Rear Window - Sex Stories

Rear Window

... you want.’ He was on the edge of tears again. ‘Thank you Jeff, this means a lot to me.’ I asked him, ‘Do you have a name for when you, you know, are dressed?’ He looked very shy when I asked and said hesitantly, ‘It’s Paula, not very creative, but it’s easy to remember.’ My heart was beating fast as I asked the next question, ‘Can I meet Paula?’ Where the hell did that come from I thought to myself. He stood dead still, I think, fearing I was having him on. ‘Jeff, do you mean that?’ I nodded, my voice getting a little thick as I said, ‘Yes, I would like to. How about tonight? Would Paula like to come to dinner?’ A big smile spread across his face, ‘I’ll have to check with her first, but I’m sure Paula would love to come to dinner with you.’ ‘There’s just one thing,’ I said, my face and voice deadly serious, ‘Can I get a fresh cup of coffee, please?’ Pau collapsed in giggles and said, ‘Coffee coming right up, sir.’ The day passed quickly, Paul was his usual professional self and after lunch I felt fit enough for a physio session. This was the first session after this morning’s confession and Paul seemed a little hesitant in his massage but he seemed to relax as he sensed I was not at all concerned. His hands and fingers soon had their usual reaction and I almost fell asl**p at one point. It gave me time to think. Why had I asked for Paula to come to dinner? Curiosity, I thought, I wanted to see him as his other self. I thought about his growing up years and how confused he ...

... must have been. Even now to have c***d come out at that age must be difficult for parents to handle and the dressing must have made it extra tough. I thought that he seemed to have grown into his skin pretty well. Was I worried about tonight? Yes, I was a bit nervous that he would look like a bloke in drag but I would have to deal with that if it happened. I was comfortable with Paul and I hoped I would be equally so with Paula. The session finished, Paul wheeled me back to the desk with a cup of tea. I had a brainwave and suggested that instead of Paul, or Paula, cooking tonight we should order a takeaway. Paul frowned and asked if I didn’t like his cooking. I laughed and said that I loved it but it would be better if I met Paula tonight without her having to cook too. He eventually agreed and I ordered from my usual Indian takeaway. Paul left me alone after that and we agreed that dinner would be at eight, with a drink at 7.30 first. I did some work for the rest of the afternoon and then watched some mind numbing TV for a while. I was nervous and I couldn’t imagine what Paul must be feeling. At 7.30 I was doing some people watching through the window as I heard the door to Paul’s room open. ‘OK, I guess I’m ready.’ The voice was somehow Paul’s and then not Paul’s at the same time. I turned the chair round fearing for the worst and my mouth dropped open. What confronted me was not a bloke in drag but a beautiful woman. If Paul was weedy as a man, he was just gorgeous as a ...