My Fantasy.

                       

The problem with being a cross-dressing househusband is that the society is too backward to accept it. People just do not like the idea of letting other people live their lives as per their choice. The result is that my social circle is a big zero.

Many of my FB friends have been asking me to share my stories more frequently. However, the problem is that nothing new is happening in my life and I don’t want to bore anyone with my same routine of wearing sarees, dollingup for my wife and pressing her legs on her return from office.

Last night, as I was chatting with a friend Pranav on FB, he told me that I was living a life that is a fantasy for him and wondered as to what is my fantasy.  Well, my fantasy is to live in a world where I have  a few friends who also crossdress and with whom, I can actually meet .

Pranav suggested that I should write a fantasy about meeting a couple of similar friends. He even suggested a few ideas for a story so that at least my blog and FB page should not be inactive.

I am again warning my readers that this is a fantasy and not a real lifetime experience unlike the other entries on my blog and FB page.

Last Monday evening, G brought me a beautiful yellow saree, complete with a blouse and petticoat.  I thanked her and went to the kitchen to get her customary glass of bear. G came from behind and caught hold of my breasts. G asked me as to when do I plan to wear this saree. I jokingly told her that probably, she should have brought me a new pair of bra and panties since that is all that I am allowed to wear on her return. Even if I wore the saree, I shall have to remove it before her return.  G laughed at that time but later, when I danced for her on super hit ‘rangeela’ song, she made me sit on her lap and after giving a lingering kiss, told me that this weekend, 2 of her friends along with their husbands would be coming for dinner and I should wear this saree that day. 

I was virtually shocked at G’s callous attitude. Till now G had introduced me as her cousin sister to the very very occasional visitor/neighbors to our household but it was clear that this time she will be introducing me as her husband. All of them shall see me in women’s clothing and make fun of me. Next morning, they shall inform her other colleagues, making me a laughing stock. However, G was so excited about her friends meeting that she didn’t look at my ashen face and went to the bedroom to work on her laptop. That night, while making love to me, she again remarked “ PILI SAREE ME QUAYAMAT LAGOGE TUM” ( You shall be looking very beautiful in yellow saree ). I was close to tears.

G was very busy that week at her office and a little tense too. I did not have the guts to talk about the weekend party. G never discusses her office tensions with me but I always find out by the way she fucks me. The intensity and wildness increase in proportion. The tenderness during love making goes away and that is a signal for me “ DO NOT DISTURB”.

The D day arrived and I had made all preparations for the party. G appeared to be in good mood. I brought her bed tea wearing my most seductive and transparent bra and panty. After the traditional fondling and pinching session, I asked her “Do you really want me to wear this yellow saree in front of your friends? I think that the black 3 piece suit shall be a better option”. G gave me an odd look and said firmly” it does not matter as to what you think. You shall do as I tell you. I have already told my friends that I make you wear women’s clothing and they don’t believe. That is the actual reason for the party tonight.”. I just bowed my head.

G left for office at 9AM after giving me the usual kiss and pinching my back and I also sent her off with a warm smile. After that, I sat on the chair and gave myself 15 minutes of rest with food for thought. On one hand, I was angry with G that to show off her friend her macho attitude, she was going to embarrass me and on the other hand, I was worried for preparations for dinner. Finally, I stood up with a deep sigh, fully aware that I was G’s property and she had a right to do whatever she liked.

One of the few good things that my step mother had done was to train me to be a very good cook. G is a strict vegetarian and in last 5 years, I have given her no occasion to complain about the taste. I had decided to give my best today. Her friends might say tomorrow that G’s husband is a faggot but they shall not have a chance to say that he is a bad cook.

All arrangement having finished by 4PM, I started getting ready for party. I took a steam bath and shaved all my body as usual and applied body lotions. I wore matching bra and panty.  The yellow saree was definitely pretty and I wore matching set of black pearls, dark red lipstick and yellow colored bangles.

Just imagine my surprise and relief when the evening guests turned out to be her boss Ms Kamya and colleague Ms. Aashu. Both of them are tomboys like G and have househusbands who had accompanied them. Both Aniket and Shanu are in to cross-dressing and were dressed in sarees complete with sindoor, bindi, matching ornaments and bangles. Both of them came directly to my kitchen to help me out as the ladies sat in the drawing room drinking whisky and sharing jokes while I served them delicious snacks. All 3 of us shared our experiences. They particularly wanted to know as to how I made G to quit smoking and I obliged. After the ladies had finished dinner and went out for a walk, we sat down to take dinner in the same respective plates and also finish their leftovers. Aniket and shanu offered to help me in washing utensils but I politely declined. The 3 musketeers (as we jokingly called them) returned from walk and it was time to say good bye. We exchanged phone numbers and Ms Kamya announced that they shall be the hosts for next month get together.

That night, when G had unmounted me after a vigorous sex, I asked her “why didn’t you tell me earlier and keep me tense these last few days”. She smiled with a twinkle in her eyes and answered “you perform better in bed, when you are tense”.