Magic Dress - Grace Pt. 02

CHAPTER 6

Did I mention that the not-so-posh university was brilliant? Well, it was. In our final year we had major projects with local companies. Not academic exercises, real things.

I worked on software for converting analog video and sound to digital, cleaning it up but not losing anything. The company was so pleased they offered me a job when I finished! They didn't care about my marks - I had shown I could do the computing they wanted.

In fact, we all got offered jobs in the locality. So I went to see Ada to ask if we could have the house for a further year. She said she'd think about it, and told I should give her a fortnight which was a bit of a disappointment. I visited her as usual and she said she was looking into things.

Next time she said that a lawyer would be visiting for a new contract, and we should all attend. We did, and were reasonably smart, as far as we could manage. I was Mike, of course.

The lawyer was a tall man in a smart suit. I felt scruffy and small. It was very intimidating.

"Now I must explain something about ownership," he began in a patronizing way.

"This house is freehold. Mrs Byron...,"

"Ada," she corrected him.

"Ada owns the land and this house outright, and it can be sold on for ever. However, the house you inhabit is different: someone else owns the land, while Ada just owns the lease of the building, but is allowed to rent it to you."

"When it was built, the first occupants bought a 99-year lease, and Mrs, I mean Ada, owns the remaining part of this which is now just over 20 years."

"She wishes to assign you the contract, not just for a year but for the remainder of the lease. If you accept this, you are taking on certain responsibilities..."

"We can't afford that!" I said.

Ada held up her hands.

"No, no, Michael, dear. I'm not selling it, I'm giving it. I'm moving to Australia, and this house will give me enough. As you boys are staying there, you might as well have it, and you've been so good to me."

"Oh, I'm sorry," said the lawyer, "I thought that was understood."

"So you're Michael?" and I nodded.

"Well specifically, the remaining leasehold is being given to you, if you want it. Your friends are here as witnesses and because we thought you would wish to discuss it with them. If you continue to live together, they will be your tenants."

He sounded much more friendly.

"Just understand: you will be responsible for all maintenance, rates and of course utility bills. At Ada's suggestion I have prepared some contracts for your tenants in which they agree to contribute a quarter of any such costs while they live there. You would be entitled to charge rent as well."

"Oh, that reminds me, there is ground rent to pay as well to the freeholder."

"How much?" I asked, a bit worried, and he smiled.

"Ten pounds a year. A significant sum eighty years ago, but fixed since then!"

He told us that while I could sell it, a property with such a short lease wouldn't get a mortgage so would not find many buyers. However, if I didn't take it, then the university might buy to rent it to students.

There was more to it, and it took time, but I became the owner (for twenty years) of a house I shared with my three best friends. We all four put a small amount each month into a savings account, which I use for paying bills, and may be a nest egg for when the lease runs out. If we were still together, we might try for a new lease or the freehold. I had a feeling we would be.

I was sorry to say goodbye to Ada, but glad she was going to join her daughter in Australia. She had stayed on in England because of her friends, but now they had all passed away, there was no reason to.

CHAPTER 7

My job started immediately after graduation.

As soon as I got my first month's pay, I had a dishwasher installed. Fortunately, there was plenty of room. It had what they used to call a scullery behind the kitchen, where we had the washing machine and tumble dryer so it was easy to connect up. That reduced a lot of aggro over washing up.

When Abdul started earning a bit later, he immediately hired a cleaning woman to do his room and washing, and his share of the general cleaning! We agreed it was a good idea and hired her to do the whole place.

Except I did my own washing, and before she came, I made sure my own room was pretty clean and tidied up the shared rooms.

Her husband did gardening, so we paid him for that as well. (The following spring, he asked if he could plant some vegetables in the back garden. He likes gardening but doesn't have one now in their flat. We agreed, so I think we now pay him to look after his own garden!)

I was working over the Summer with the company installing a digitalization suite at the local Art and Fashion College. I then became the technician in charge at the college.

It took a while for me to pluck up the courage, but eventually I told the academic in charge that I liked wearing a dress or skirt, and would it be OK if I did it sometimes.

He laughed.

"It's an art and fashion college," he said.

"Pretty much anything goes, so long as you're not a danger to yourself or others, so probably no large crinolines or extreme heels."

The students certainly had a variety of clothes, and the annual fashion show featured dresses for men. So nobody complained.

Unlike my course at university, the staff and students were mostly female. There were actually some gays who dressed in a camp way, but it was difficult for me to understand what was serious and what was being ironic. I had some kind of sense for computer images, but would never have made an art student.

I think a lot of the students liked me as sort of pet. An eager to please helper who knew all the techie stuff but did not understand art. And a man who liked being a girl, but didn't entirely get it.

They even invited me out with them a couple of times, but it was just no good. I was happy being one of the girls but I wasn't the extrovert sort they were, so they understood. I was fine at work or talking one to one, but nightlife wasn't for me. It was much the same for all four of us. We were happy in small groups rather than large crowds, and shy with strangers.

The students helped me with makeup, and sometimes with clothes. There was a lot of recycling of second-hand clothes from charity shops, and the fashion students knew how to fit and flatter, while the art students were mainly about being outrageous. They gave me some professional foam fillers for the two sizes of bra, and used various ways to make my skirts stand out a little, so that I looked like I had a bit more hip, and what I had in my panties didn't show.

(I'm fortunate in having a cock that grows when I get hard, so it's quite small when I'm not.)

I never told Mum and Dad about dressing up, but I said I was continuing to live with my three schoolmates, and it didn't look like there would be a girlfriend, so they accepted they were unlikely to be grandparents. At least Mum's two older sisters have four kids between them and three are producing babies. Two don't live far away, so she can be an honorary grandma. I don't think Dad cares.

Abdul told his parents he was living with a girl but had no plans to marry. I guess they're a bit shocked so they are not really asking how he is getting on any more or suggesting suitable brides. I'm sorry for his dad, who's a nice man.

Sean didn't need to tell his parents anything. They know he's still living with his schoolmates and I don't think they ever expected him to marry. They have their own problems, anyway.

I'm not sure what Tony said - perhaps he's said he's gay - but he gets on with them all right.

People at the college asked me a few times, but I didn't want to take hormones or have an operation.

I loved a good sexy wank in the morning, and then afterwards it felt so right to be a woman for the rest of the day. Not too bad looking, no great figure, but nice clothes.

Some of the students dragged me to some lingerie shops. The staff ignored my blushes and were very friendly. It's more common than you might suppose for men to buy things for themselves. They measured me up without embarrassment. It's easier for me than a woman, because I don't have to worry about getting my breasts comfortable. All I need is the right band (chest) size and whatever cups are suitable, though I've stuck with those of Grace and Sean's mum as standard for regular and showing off a bit.

I also got a bit of a lecture about how this underwear was actually a feminist thing. Having silky and pretty things next to your skin was some luxury even if your outerwear was functional. Millions of women wear it though no man will see. It is just for themselves to express the feminine - equal, but better, as one put it! I liked this explanation.

The girls selected some sets and combinations and the shops made a note. They said if my boyfriends wanted to buy me a present, they could just choose one of these and know they would fit. But I couldn't resist a nice silky slip to wear under a dress.

I was too embarrassed at the idea of my housemates being boyfriends, so didn't tell them for weeks, but when I finally let on, they thought it was a good idea. Minimizing the time they had to go in and their blushes. Thank heavens for plastic: just a card to pay!

Of course, when they did, it meant I had to provide a show with it several times, so I hope they enjoyed their wanks afterwards.

One day there was a package for me and it were two joke things labelled as male stress relievers. They were each like a boob in some sort of squashy rubber. They're actually quite good in a bra of Grace's size, though I have to put a handkerchief between the plastic and my chest or I would get sweat rash. I don't know who was brave enough to buy them.

I could now manage proper high heels and had a couple of pairs, having been accompanied by students to the right shops and taken their advice. (God, women's shoes are expensive!)

Abdul took me to a quiet restaurant, like a girlfriend. It was a big effort for both of us. The others actually came to the door, to encourage us in, then left us to it.

Afterwards he gave me a kiss, and I did a strip for him alone in his bedroom, but nothing more, leaving him with a hard-on to deal with himself. Nothing for the others. I was his pretend girlfriend for the evening, and only his.

I did the same for the others, of course, when they got the courage.

One place refused, so we just left quietly.

I also joined them in a group, one girl, three boys, sometimes shopping or going to the cinema. Nothing very adventurous.

A good Saturday was when we all had our morning wanks (mine in private, theirs in front of me), then someone took me into the city for lunch and to buy me something from one of the lingerie shops.

Sean bought me a nice nightdress. Not sexy, just nice and girly.

Abdul bought me a black basque, which was a sort of corset and bra. It was supposed to be my size, but the waist was very tight on me (which is the point, I suppose) and the bra was not full cup, so you could see the foam fillers.

Tony bought me a see-through white nightdress. Wearing the basque underneath, the skin-coloured foam looked all right, so they all enjoyed it, though it was a bit uncomfortable for me. The nightdress was good with other bra sets as well.

Apart from disappointing our parents by not marrying (which is true of a lot of our generation) we were pretty happy. I worked and lived as a woman, with three great men, and we had sex of a sort which satisfied us. We were still not very good socially outside, but we didn't have to be, since we had each other.

CHAPTER 8

It was about a year later.

I was feeling really cheerful. It was Saturday, and it seemed to me to be a green dress day.

After breakfast, I showered and put on the black bra set and some lipstick. (The original lace stockings had gone, but I'd been bought various replacements.) I had a really good wank, actually hitting the mirror! I cleaned up, put on panties and the green dress. In my best high heels, I went to the living room where they were sitting expectantly on the sofa.

I moved and twirled and gave them glimpses of my stocking tops, gradually pulling up the skirt to show more and more each time I did. Finally the dress came off with a flourish and I was glad to see they were all hard. Tony was the first to stand as I continued to move, looking expectantly at them

But instead of going to his room, Tony stood up, got it out there and then. I stood dumbfounded as he applied spit and started wanking looking towards me. After a moment, Abdul did the same.

Sean looked shocked, but after a minute got his out somewhat hesitantly.

Somehow I started to move again, revelling in the feeling as three cocks were being thrust in my direction. The three of them came almost at the same time, and a feeling of immense satisfaction filled me up. My face was hot and I was breathing hard.

It's hard to describe. It was something like an orgasm, but without the coming spasms.

It was great!

It became a regular routine.

It was weird in a way. I didn't get hard, but it was amazingly sexy and satisfying. But I was really hard in the morning afterwards.

One day, Sean noticed something.

"Hey! Abbie's got butter!"

That rather explained the way butter got used up. It was quite a good idea really, but Tony had a better one. He'd got some kind of slippery liquid from his brother, which was much better than spit. When it dried, spit or water would activate it again, so he put it on before my performances.

It was available in Boots the Chemist apparently, near the contraceptives. The other three made several visits without managing to buy it, though we did get some more soap. Finally in the green dress, I took a big breath, grabbed four tubes, handed over the cash and went outside red-faced to the others, lurking outside like robbers.

It was really good on my morning wanks. Why aren't boys supplied with it so they don't have to steal their Mum's lotions? (Or was that just me?)

And why hadn't we just bought our own lotions at university?

Which reminded me that the girls had said I ought to use lotion on my hands and face, so I started doing that.

Next time Tony went home, he got his brother to buy some more, which was shared out.

And the butter didn't go down so fast.

I liked seeing those cocks come alive as I performed, then the urgency as all that lust and eventually spunk was directed at me. Tony and Sean are growers, but Abdul has one that is quite big hanging down, and gets up and a bit thicker. He's also circumcised, unlike the rest of us.

It was no surprise that Abdul eventually said it. In just our little group he acts as the real macho man, but outside he's the quietest. Even if they do all the jobs at home, I think his sisters intimidate him, and he really gets tongue-tied with girls outside.

"If you were a proper girl, you'd suck us off!" he said, all excited and coming not long after.

"Suck me off, Grace!" he said repeatedly next time as he wanked until I told him to stop.

Tony spoke to me later. Apparently it wasn't that bad sucking a cock, so his brother had told him.

"You just have to turn it away when he comes. Even the coming is OK, really. You can spit it out."

I kept thinking about it. It really turned me on, when they wanked at me. Imagine how excited they'd be if I actually sucked them.

Yes, but no.

It was another green dress day when I made the decision.

Sean was the only one in the house.

I asked Sean if we could try and see if I could suck cock. We both agreed it probably wouldn't work, I'd stop as soon as I wanted, and he wouldn't tell the others. He was the only one I really trusted.

He said he'd better wash it, which I appreciated. When he came back, he was half hard, so I knelt down and looked at it. Not particularly attractive, but not terrifying.

I opened my mouth and took it in.

It was a big surprise.

It wasn't bad at all. In fact I liked it. Feeling it in my mouth and knowing how good it must be for him. It was nice. So I carried on. I put my hand around his shaft, which was also a new feeling, and moved the knob in and out between my lips, licking him a bit.

I had never believed that girls actually liked it. I just thought they did it to please their boyfriends or because they didn't want to fuck.

Perhaps they don't. Perhaps it was just me. But I was thinking "Now I'm a proper girl!" and feeling really good. I carried on in a bit of a daze.

It was amazing when Sean was obviously on the edge, groaning with pleasure. I thought I should point it away, as we'd agreed.

But I didn't want him to come on the dress.

And I didn't want to point it away.

It was a bit like when you find a really subtle bug in some code, and a small change makes everything go right. That sense of triumph and satisfaction as Sean came into my mouth.

Actually, it was peculiar, and I gagged a bit, but the sense of achievement meant I held on, and milked every drop from the tube with my thumb. It didn't seem right to spit after that, so I swallowed.

"Grace, you're wonderful!" Sean said once he'd recovered.

It was a big surprise for both of us.

"I'll do it again, some time," I said, and I meant it.

Next time I did my mirror wank I was thinking of sucking cock.

And when they were all three wanking in front of me, I thought again.

"Hang on!" I said and they stopped. I knelt down and took Sean's cock in my hand and mouth, and sucked him a bit, wanking the slippery shaft. The lube tasted a bit like liquorice.

The others were dumfounded, but Abdul didn't object when I switched to his.

I had planned to switch to Tony, but somehow wanted to carry on, so took him all the way. I heard Sean warning Tony not to finish himself off - he must have been wanking hard!

Abdul was ecstatic when he came, and I was pretty pleased myself, but moved over to Tony's straining cock. He was obviously really excited, as it didn't take long. I'd only just swallowed when I heard Sean say "I'm coming!" and managed to get my mouth onto his knob in time to catch the cum.

They had none of them ever been sucked off before, and were happy and grateful.

Now I believed that some girls liked it.

Abdul said I was just as good as a girl, and Tony came up with the perfect phrase.

"She's a girl emulator!"

If you don't know, an emulator is a program that makes a PC pretend to be something else. The first ones were terminal emulators, mimicking a terminal connected to a mainframe, but cheaper than the terminals they replaced. We had an emulator that enabled us to run programs for the old Spectrum computer. There are others to emulate consoles.

I was sufficiently amused to share this phrase with one of the more nerdy college students, Natalie. She was a postgraduate doing arty things with images and video I don't understand, but very good with the technical side, so we got on well.

"Ah," she said, when I told her, "You're obviously so pleased with yourself, you've had some kind of sex at last. I won't ask the details, but well done, and I'm glad you enjoyed it."

Pretty soon everyone knew the phrase, and I got a few jokes about it by the nerdier girls.

I mixed and match, because I did like to see them toss off at me. Sometimes I finished them off with my mouth. Sometimes I'd suck one all the way, depending how I felt. I thought about which it was going to be during my morning wank. They never knew - it's the lady's privilege to be a bit of a tease.

Until Abdul told me he wanted to come on my face.

I wasn't sure, but eventually agreed to try it. I wore a bra which was easy to wash in case he missed, and a miniskirt with the obligatory stockings and heels.