House Rules

by G. C. Scott

  What he did next was to put one hand on the back of her head, twining his fingers in her thick brown hair and gently rubbing her scalp as he held her face still for the kiss. It lengthened, until he could feel himself stirring against her belly, and Ingrid’s breath grew harsh and short in her throat. Then he pulled back and looked into her face.

  Her eyes were closed and a faint flush reddened her throat, where he could see a tiny pulse just below the fine texture of her skin. Ingrid still held the tube in one hand, but she put her free arm around Richard’s waist. When he bent to kiss her again, she sighed and opened her mouth to him. Finding herself unable to hold him tightly enough with her one arm, Ingrid groped behind her and dropped the tube of make-up on to the dresser. Then she could hold him as she wished. They stood locked together for an endless time, while each explored the other’s face, mouth and throat.

  Richard felt he could have stood there for ever, but not Ingrid. She appeared to reach a decision. She pulled slightly away so that she could look up into his face. ‘It truly does not bother you that I am so much older than you?’ She searched his face for a sign.

  ‘Don’t you remember what I told you the last time you brought up the matter of age?’

  ‘Yes, but I still wonder if that was not just something you were saying – a compliment you did not mean. You see, when a woman gets older, she must always ask herself these questions. Women age so much more quickly than men. And we are judged much more harshly. Youth is the same thing as beauty to us, you know.’

  Words would not answer her, so instead he brushed her hair aside gently and caressed her face before kissing her again. This time he was slow and thorough: his mouth explored her eyes, her nose and forehead, her cheeks, her ears, her throat where the tiny pulse beat, until her eyes closed and he felt her sag against him.

  ‘Unzip me, please.’ Ingrid’s voice was low and tense. He turned her away so he could pull the zipper down the back of her dress. As the material parted, he kissed the nape of her neck, then the tops of her shoulders, the hollow of her spine. Finally the dress lay in a pile around her feet. She stepped out of it and turned to face him. In a voice that shook slightly, she said, ‘Would you like to undress me completely now?’

  Richard nodded wordlessly, but before beginning he put his arms around Ingrid and drew her to him once again, holding her tightly.

  With a low moan, Ingrid embraced him, pulling him fiercely against her as she turned up her face to be kissed again. She darted her tongue into his mouth, and her breath mingled with his as they clung to one another. It seemed as if her doubts were gone.

  Finally she pulled away and gasped, ‘Take my clothes off, quickly.’ She took hold of Richard’s cock as he lifted the slip over her head and unsnapped her bra. Her full breasts sprang free, the nipples erect. Richard paused to touch them, then bent to kiss her breasts. Ingrid drew in a tremulous breath as his lips touched her. He worked her pants off while the kiss went on, his tongue circling her swollen nipples and his teeth nipping gently at her.

  Ingrid pulled away with an effort and sat on the side of the bed wearing nothing but her stockings and suspenders. Reaching for the chain that dangled from his scrotum, she pulled him closer. She took his cock in her hand once more, stroking it and cupping his balls in her other hand. She seemed fascinated by it, teasing and tugging at it. Richard stood still for a long moment, allowing her to do as she wished with him. Then he pushed Ingrid gently back on to the bed. She lay looking up at him for a moment, and then stretched her arms up to him.

  He lay down beside her and they embraced, their bodies fitting against one another effortlessly, oblivious of all else. Richard stroked Ingrid’s legs, relishing the electric feel of her sheer stockings under his hand, and enjoying the change in sensation as he reached her bare skin. She held him tightly as he caressed every part of her he could reach, breasts, thighs, bottom, crotch. Her breath was loud in his ears, and she moaned softly as his hands roamed over her body, touching, moving on, touching her again, until she was wild with desire. Then he moved over her.

  Ingrid spread her legs and guided him inside. She was wet and parted, ready for him, and she gasped with pleasure as he slid home. Richard felt her vaginal muscles close around his cock, enveloping him in warmth and softness. When he began to thrust, Ingrid matched his rhythm, her hips rising and falling to receive him, and then almost to lose him, before he plunged into her again and again.

  Ingrid’s mouth was close beside his ear, and Richard could hear her little gasps as she became more excited. Then she was making small, incoherent sounds of pleasure as she began to climax in short, sharp spasms that rippled through her and that he could feel in his cock as her vaginal muscles gripped and loosened, gripped and loosened. She held him fiercely against her as she was swept by her ecstasy.

  Ingrid abruptly relaxed, her breath sawing in her throat as she lay beneath him. Richard looked questioningly at her and made a move to withdraw. She caught him again.

  ‘Stay inside me,’ she gasped.

  Richard lay atop her as her breathing slowed. Finally Ingrid spoke. ‘Please raise yourself for a moment and let me look at you. This feels so good I am beginning to think I have died of pleasure.’ She pushed gently against Richard’s chest.

  He lifted himself and looked down into her flushed, happy face.

  ‘You are real enough,’ she said softly. ‘I wonder why I was so worried about making love with such a young man.’

  Richard covered her mouth with his own. ‘Don’t talk about it,’ he breathed into her. Then he kissed her lips, feeling them open to him. With one of his hands he stroked the back of her neck, while the other twined in her long hair, holding her mouth against his own. Then he began once more to move inside her, and felt her muscles clamp down on him again. As he moved in and out, in and out, he could hear her breath quickening in little, sharp moans.

  Her hands were holding his bottom, keeping him inside her as if afraid of losing that delicious penetration. He felt her begin to climax, and then she was bucking and writhing beneath him. Muffled sounds of pleasure escaped her again, and Richard felt himself go over the edge. He held tightly to her as he emptied himself into her body, and Ingrid’s cries were loud in the room.

  Afterwards they lay side by side. It was dark in the room. He felt drained but glad that they had been able to share such pleasure. Ingrid’s hand lay on his thigh, as if she were still afraid to lose contact with him. At length she sat up and turned on the bedside lamp.

  ‘I want to look at you,’ she said in explanation.

  ‘And I will look at you,’ Richard replied.

  ‘No. Please. Now that it is over I am afraid you will see an old woman again.’ Her face was sad.

  But he stared into her face, refusing to look away, until she smiled again.

  ‘You told the truth,’ she finally said. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  Richard pulled her down on top of him, liking the feel of her breasts firm against his chest and the feel of her warmth along his body. He wrapped his legs around hers and pulled the quilt over them both. Ingrid sighed gently and relaxed in his arms.

  When he awoke, he was alone in the bed. Richard turned his head and saw Ingrid sitting at the dressing table looking at him. ‘How long have you been awake?’ he asked her.

  ‘Not long. I was going to wake you, but you seemed to need the sleep.’ She continued with a smile, ‘After that, I can see why.’ Ingrid rose and wrapped herself in a dressing gown. Then she said, ‘Come on, get up, Richard. We have much work to do on you. I shouldn’t have let you seduce me into bed with you.’ But her smile at once gave the lie to her words.

  Richard rose too, kissed her on the corner of the mouth and went in search of the bathroom. The cool air on his bare legs reminded him once again why he was there.

  Back in the bedroom, Ingrid was waiting for him. The dressing gown was belted about her waist now: back to business.

  ‘Are you naked under your gown?’ Richard ask
ed her, with a smile of his own.

  ‘Don’t start again, please. I don’t think I can take much more of that,’ she said with a smile. Ingrid retrieved the tube of make-up from the dresser and motioned for him to sit in the chair again. ‘Look in the mirror and watch carefully what I do,’ she commanded, as she began to spread the make-up gently over his forehead.

  Richard watched as Ingrid gradually covered his entire face and neck with the foundation. Then she dusted a lightly scented and tinted powder over the cream.

  ‘To take away the shine and feel of the cream,’ she explained. ‘I won’t do anything elaborate. You will not have the time to learn how to use eye shadow and eyeliner and all the other things women use. You will have to be content with just the basics.’

  ‘The basics’ still seemed to require a lot of skill, Richard concluded as he watched her work. Slowly his face began to take on a feminine appearance. It was still his face, but now it was softer, with highlights and emphasis where before there had been none. Ingrid used mascara to darken and lengthen his eyelashes. Next his eyebrows received the same treatment. Subtle touches around the eyes, a light shading. Then lipstick, a pale rose shade.

  ‘Use neutral colours,’ Ingrid advised. ‘Just as I told you in choosing dresses, you do not want to call attention to yourself with a too-bright make-up.’

  Richard nodded.

  Ingrid stepped back to examine her handiwork.

  ‘Not too bad,’ was her verdict, ‘but your eyebrows are too thick. Tomorrow I will thin them slightly, and give them a more definite arch.’

  From the mirror a different person stared back at Richard. He stared at the transformed face in fascination. Ingrid stood beside him, a hand on his shoulder, gauging his reaction.

  But even she was surprised by it. Richard took her wrist and pulled her down on to his lap. Ingrid settled herself and put her arms around him. Her dressing gown parted to reveal her long, full legs, but she made no move to cover herself. Richard felt himself stir and grow stiff as she lay against him.

  Wordlessly, Ingrid shifted until she was straddling him. She opened her gown and let it drop to the floor. Then she guided him inside her quickly. Richard began to thrust at once, and she cried out as his hands cupped her breasts. When his fingers touched her taut nipples, she moaned and pressed herself down on his cock. Ingrid seemed to be affected by the same feverish haste, for she came at once, a shudder passing through her. She matched his rhythm, and came again, his cock sliding quickly in and out as they set one another afire. It was over almost before it had begun. Ingrid let out a low scream as she felt him stiffen and then spurt inside her. She ground her hips against his pelvis and shuddered again as her climax took her.

  They sat for long minutes, locked together, tense, before he felt her relax her hold on him. She lay against his chest as their breathing slowed to normal and their heartbeats ceased to shake their bodies.

  Ingrid was the first to move. She sat up and looked at Richard’s face under its layer of make-up. Then she brushed her hand lightly over his face and hair, a feather touch. ‘Don’t speak,’ she said, when she saw he was about to. ‘I understand. You had to prove that the change you see is only outward – that you are still the same man you always were: not lost, not changed.’

  Richard nodded silently. ‘So you do understand. I’m sorry I took it out on you.’

  ‘Don’t be. I know you were quick, but it was wonderful for me too.’ And this time she kissed him. ‘I know you are still the same, so you shouldn’t worry about that,’ she said, standing up. ‘Now, come to bed with me.’

  And they lay under the quilt holding one another tightly through the dark, quiet hours.

  Three

  Richard woke first in the morning. He looked at Ingrid for a long time as she lay beside him, her face softened in sleep. Then he bent and kissed her eyelids softly.

  ‘That is the best way to wake someone,’ she said.

  Richard got out of bed and went through the apartment into the kitchen, where he made coffee. He brought Ingrid a cup and returned to the kitchen to boil some eggs and make toast – his standard breakfast. In the mirror hanging on the door he caught sight of himself. The make-up Ingrid had so carefully applied the evening before was mostly still there, though there were smudges. But the face that looked back at him from the mirror was quite strange.

  Ingrid came into the kitchen as he was regarding himself. Like Richard, she was nude, seemingly having cast aside her reservations sometime during their lovemaking the night before. She came up behind him as he stood at the mirror and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her firm breasts against his back. ‘You really should scrub off your make-up before going to bed. It is bad for your skin if it stays on too long. And, more important, it gets all over my nice pillows.’ Her smile robbed the words of censure.

  He turned in her arms and kissed her laughing mouth. He felt his cock stiffening against her belly as they embraced.

  So did Ingrid. ‘Not now. We have a lot of work to do before Margaret comes back for you. But I am looking forward to this afternoon.’ Disengaging herself, Ingrid sat at the table. ‘Come and eat now. Then we must begin.’

  They ate, and then she told him to wash off the make-up and shave while she cleared up in the kitchen. She pushed him towards the bathroom.

  He took a shower and scrubbed his face, then shaved. When Richard got back to the bedroom, he saw that she had laid out the clothes they had chosen yesterday.

  With a pair of dressmaker’s shears, Ingrid cut the nylon strap around his scrotum and let the chain fall to the floor. ‘Margaret can put another on you if she wishes, but now it would be useless. Start with the tights,’ she directed.

  Richard sat on the edge of the bed to put on the sheer black tights she had selected. They slid up his bare legs easily, and he stood to ease the top into place. But Ingrid gestured for him to wait. She cut a long strip from a roll of surgical tape and made him hold his cock vertically against his belly while she taped it to his skin. Then she helped him to pull the panty part of the tights into place.

  ‘You can leave the tape off when you’re moving around Margaret’s house,’ she told him, ‘but you must use it when you go in public. Now reach inside and pull your balls up from between your legs. Let the tights contain them. Otherwise you will be very uncomfortable in a short while.’

  Richard did as she commanded. Then she helped him ease himself into one of the panty corselets. She pulled it up tightly into his crotch and smoothed the top part over his body. His cock made only a slight bulge in the tight garment. The cups of the brassiere were, of course, empty, but Ingrid produced several breast-shaped foam-rubber pads. ‘Falsies,’ she told him as she stuffed them into the cups. ‘They will give you the necessary shape. And if you want to be bigger, you can always add another set. Size sometimes matters.’ She pointed to several more pads on the bed.

  ‘Now the slip,’ she directed. And when he had put it on she handed him the black dress. ‘It goes on over the head,’ she told him.

  It fitted well enough, but he couldn’t reach the back zip. Ingrid had to help him with that. She turned him towards the mirror so he could see the result. The old familiar face was there, but the body now looked like a woman’s. He stared at the unfamiliar shape for a long moment. Ingrid handed him a brunette wig from the bureau and helped him settle it on to his head. Like Raymond’s, it was short and framed his face much more closely than his own hair. ‘Unless you plan to learn to style hair, I suggest you use a short wig. It is easier to manage. Now sit down before the mirror so I can do your eyebrows.’

  Ingrid used a small pair of scissors and a pair of tweezers to thin and shape his eyebrows. When she had finished they were more arched than they had been: more feminine, he would have said.

  ‘Now put on the make-up. Do what I did yesterday,’ Ingrid told him. She produced another towel and draped it over the top of the dress to prevent his getting cosmetics on it.

  Rich
ard applied the make-up under her watchful eye: foundation, powder, lipstick, eye shadow, mascara. He made only a few mistakes, which Ingrid corrected for him.

  ‘Now I will look at your nails,’ she said.

  He showed her his hands, the nails blunt and with traces of dirt under them. She made disapproving noises and went to get a hand basin and nailbrush. She scrubbed his hands and cleaned the nails, then with a file she shaped them.

  ‘There’s not much I can do with them until they grow a bit more,’ Ingrid said. ‘But I can make them appear narrower by making the ends more pointed.’ After wielding a nailfile, she showed him how to apply nail varnish: first a clear lacquer coating, and then a pale rose shade that matched the lipstick she had chosen earlier. ‘You can do your toes yourself if you want, but no one is likely to see them.’

  As she spoke, Ingrid handed Richard a pair of black high-heeled shoes and indicated he was to put them on. When he had done so, she motioned him to stand. ‘Be careful,’ she advised. ‘You will have to learn to walk in high heels, and it takes time.’

  When he stood, Richard felt off balance, his weight thrown forward on to his toes and the balls of his feet. The unnatural elevation of his heels made him think he was falling forward. He took a few tentative steps, and very nearly did fall. Ingrid caught his arm and helped him regain his balance. Then she released him and told him to walk across the room. He did so, slowly and unsteadily, and stopped near the door.

  ‘Now give us a twirl,’ Ingrid told him. Richard turned slowly so that she could see him from all angles. He walked several times across the room, feeling a bit surer of foot and of himself with each moment.

  Ingrid produced a 35mm camera and asked him to hold still for a moment. ‘We need some photographs for your new passport.’ She took several exposures and then told him, ‘That will do for now. I have to go down and open the shop. I will come back here when I have some free time. You should practise walking and sitting and get used to acting like a woman. If you are going to please Margaret, you will have to become much better at these things.’