L Is for Lucy

"Thanks but - er - I'd better go."

I skipped quickly past him, not an easy thing in those heels, towards the door and I didn't stop until I'd got the car door open and I was inside. I switched on the engine and sat, quietly, just for a few moments. I could see Larry looking after me from the doorway. I was glad I hadn't actually said 'yes' to either of his questions, to the offer of coffee or to his query about me being Luke's sister. Or mother, rather, that's what he'd really meant. So maybe I had some sort of get-out if the topic ever came up at work.

There were only a few cars in the car park at that time of night so I was able to carefully drive out forwards, without reversing, and steer my way back home very gingerly after negotiating the two turns and pulling into the driveway. Again I sat for a moment. Wow! What an evening this had been. I really didn't want it to end but I knew it had to. I couldn't see the time on my ladies' watch in the dark but I knew it wasn't far from midnight. I'd better start changing back to 'Luke'.

I didn't want to, I'd had SUCH a great time, I was amazed at how far I'd gone, in some way along the road to femininity. I thought about Larry watching me walking away from him, what he must have thought looking at my sheer black nylon stockings, my tight bum, my high heels. I was SO happy. But all good things have to come to an end, I knew that.

So I got out of the car, closing the door as quietly as I could and locking it. I knew I'd be able to check it over the next morning before Mum and Dad were up, to make sure I'd not dropped anything. My heels clicked on the concrete as I moved towards the front door, I enjoyed the final swish of nylon thigh against miniskirt. I pushed the key towards the lock, but fumbled a little, unused to the long red nails. I tried again, concentrating, the key moved in and I began to turn it.

"Hello love."

I didn't turn. There was someone behind me! Again! It couldn't be Larry, surely. It wasn't. As the door swung open we both fell in rather, he was holding me upright as I partly lost my balance. The moving door, the high heels, the surprise, all contributed to my temporary instability. I stood up and turned, even though I knew the voice. I nearly said 'Hello Dad'. I'm so glad I didn't.

If my heart had skipped a beat or two earlier, during my dressing up, during my outing - it missed hundreds right then. Just about my worst nightmare. In fact, yes, my worst. If mother had caught me, that would have been awful but to be actually caught by my father, well that was just terrible. I waited for his reaction, I just couldn't speak. Which is just as well. Again that's what saved me. Dad just slid a hand round my waist as he pulled the door closed behind me, and eased me through into the living room. Then - he squeezed my waist tighter and moved in closer, to kiss my neck - rather amorously.

"I know I'm early, Lucy, the coach driver had to get back. He's off on holiday tomorrow and didn't want to be late. So we had to cut our drinking time. "

I realised that, he wasn't due for well over an hour! OK so he'd not drunk as much as sometimes but he'd had a few pints, I could tell.

"And on top of that I've lost my glasses, I think I left them in the pub."

Lucy! He'd called me Lucy. What with being a bit drunk and with not having his specs - he thought I was my mother! He thought I was his wife! I still couldn't say anything.

"Come on, love. Let's have another drink."

And he kept his arm round my waist. He moved me into the living room and over towards the little drinks cabinet, pouring himself a scotch I think, and getting a gin and tonic for me. He held it out towards me. I had to look straight at him, I had to say something. Anything.

I spoke quietly, trying desperately not to give myself away. I had to get out of this, somehow.

"Thanks."

That was all I said. We sat down - together, side by side - on the long sofa. Dad looked towards me again, from much closer this time. I could see him trying to focus, to screw up his eyes a little. But with the drinks and the lack of glasses, he really couldn't see me clearly.

"So. Your stuff obviously finished early as well. What about Luke? Is he in bed?"

A get-out! I could get away, go upstairs. I stood up. But before I could move I felt my father's hand, touching my knee, sliding up my thigh towards the hem of my skirt, moving slowly under the skirt.

"Streuth, Lucy, you look really sexy tonight. I bet your friends at the meeting were impressed, specially the guys."

He pulled me down again onto the sofa.

"Wait a bit, love. Leave Luke for a minute," he muttered, his mouth very close to my ear.

And he moved his head towards mine, sliding his left hand round my back and the right gently up towards my 'breast'. There was nothing else for it, I was just going to have to kiss him! I braced myself. I realised, all evening I'd been wanting to 'be' mother, to be Lucy in some way. OK, I just had to find a way out. But first.

I moved my lips closer, opened them slightly, and touched his. I had to put my own hands round his neck as we embraced, as my mouth began to work. I'd fantasised several times about kissing a man though never my own father. I began to open and close my own lips more sensuously, to slide my hands round over his body.

I was in heaven, I WAS Lucy. Kissing my husband. Quite quickly I knew it was getting a bit out of hand, but I wanted it to so much. We were rolling on the sofa, me on top of him, I was taking the initiative. I was being a loving wife, this was so much what I'd always dreamed of, actually being a woman, being with a man.

"Peter..." was all I could say.

I slid a leg up to balance myself and felt my 'husband' moving his own hands again, over my knee and my thigh, up to the bare flesh at the top of my thigh, touching my stockings. I managed to shuffle sideways a little to stop him exploring further but I didn't want that kiss to stop, I was opening my mouth, pushing my tongue between his lips. I was French kissing him, feeling his ardour, his passion. My father's passion!

He pulled me to him and kissed me harder, probing the inside of my mouth with his own tongue. His arms were around me now, and while his left arm pinned me to him I felt his right hand begin to explore my bottom. He managed to lift my tight skirt high enough to slip his right hand under the hem, and gain access to the naked flesh of the back of my left thigh above my stocking top again. With only my skimpy black thong separating that hand from my soft, warm flesh, he probed a finger or two up under the elastic of the leg hole. All the while the kissing just went on!

I knew, something would have to give. He was going to fondle my 'vagina' - there and then, on the sofa, groping his wife, nothing wrong with that. But what I'd been thinking, that was most definitely wrong.

Suddenly he separated and stood up.

"Hang on love, loo."

I was relieved. After all that, on top of several pints probably, and a scotch too, I wasn't surprised. Thankfully he didn't go upstairs, he might have looked into my room. Instead he walked past me towards the door into the hall, into the small downstairs loo.

Now was my chance. I tripped past the door, I could hear him 'performing' inside the smallest room. I stepped quietly up the stairs and into my room. Into Luke's room, that is. Then I realised, this wouldn't do. If he came up and into his own bedroom he'd find stuff that shouldn't be there. Make-up on the dresser, some of my own clothes, Luke's clothes, on the chair and on the floor. I had to move them.

I opened the door and moved out, just as 'Peter' came up the stairs. He saw me but now he was just a little more sober. I couldn't let him see into his bedroom yet – 'our' bedroom, that is. I sidled up towards him and slid a hand up his chest inside his shirt, feeling the muscles reacting to my touch. I leaned gently towards him and whispered quietly in his ear.

"Peter. Darling. I'll be down in a minute, will you get me another gin? Please?"

He looked pleased. I was still getting away with it.

"OK. Is Luke asleep?"

He'd seen me coming out of his son's room, he obviously wanted to know if I was awake, if I might come out in a minute or two, if I might interrupt him.

"Er - yes. He's sound asleep. He's been studying tonight, I think. Poor dear, he looks tired out."

I kept thinking. The whole direction of the evening, of the night, had changed. I really was enjoying myself so much. And so was Dad! He didn't know what was really happening, of course, but he knew what he knew. He knew that his wife was looking particularly sexy and he could tell she was felling sexy that night, indeed that she was horny as hell, that she was 'up for it' all right. So why not?

Why not?! I'll tell you why not. Basically because he had been kissing and fondling his son, that's why not. Hell, driving without a licence may have been illegal, I wasn't sure what I was doing was actually strictly illegal but it was certainly immoral. It wasn't right but it was such FUN. However - I knew - it had to stop. I had to get out of this. But how?

I just couldn't walk down the stairs, face my Dad, take my wig off and say 'Sorry, I'm not your wife, I'm your son'. That just wasn't on. As he went down I quickly slipped into my parents' room and grabbed my stuff, having a very quick look round to make sure everything looked reasonably OK. Then I shoved it behind the bed in my own room, out of sight, to be sorted later.

I went down the stairs and into the living room. Dad was lying on the sofa, he'd taken his jacket and his club tie off, he always wore that at away matches. He was sipping his own drink, and grinning rather naughtily at me. With his glasses on I'd never have got away with this, but I was doing so, and doing a good job of being Lucy though I say so myself.

I grabbed my bag, for the first time in my life I actually needed another cigarette. I lit it and sat on the end of the small armchair, crossing my legs so that the hem of my skirt slid up to reveal a large area of nylon-clad thigh. I really shouldn't have been doing it, I know. But Dad was just looking across at me, still grinning. He was enjoying the 'show' as much as I was enjoying doing it.

Then I got my own drink - I'd lost count, was this my fourth gin-and-tonic of the night I think. Way too much for me, but it tasted good. And it was definitely having an effect on me. I sat beside 'Peter' on the sofa and leaned down to caress his lips gently again with my own. Very quickly this time a sensual kiss turned into heavy petting as my husband squeezed my bum and my 'tits', as we writhed together, first with me on top, then with him on top of me.

I had to say it, somehow I'd hoped to finish off before I had to make that suggestion but I realised time was beginning to get on. And what must NOT happen - mother coming home and finding us like that. Well, it was still unlikely but it was becoming possible. There was only one way out. I knew what I had to do.

"Peter. Time for bed, I think, darling."

One last kiss, then I went up the stairs and into my parents' bedroom. I looked round. I finished tidying up any incriminating evidence very quickly. Peter came in behind me and slid his arms round my waist. I realised, between husband and wife there are some things which are unspoken. Like they say, actions speak louder than words. His actions made it obvious, I knew what was coming next.

Peter stripped down to his pants, then headed for the bathroom again, I heard him peeing in there again. Quickly I removed my own top and skirt. Yet again I stood there. Thinking. Thinking hard. I decided. There was indeed only the one way out, Dad was aroused, and so was I - I just had to go ahead. My flesh-coloured stick-on latex gaff, top of the range, the one with the 'peeing-vagina' tube, was going to be given the ultimate test and so was I. I thought back, pointless really, wondering whether there had been a moment after Dad had sneaked an arm round my waist on the doorstep, trying to think if I'd missed a chance to escape. No, there really hadn't been. It didn't matter now, anyway, this was going to have to happen. My 'husband' and I were going to get into bed together.

I stripped down to bra and panties, stockings and heels. For some reason it seemed a good idea to keep my jewellery on, the necklace and earrings, and my rings. I switched off the main bedroom light, just leaving on the small one on the dressing table. I knew this could still go so badly wrong, Dad was sobering up slowly despite the extra scotch but I was coping well with the gin I'd had. I pulled back the duvet and waited, standing by the bed.

Dad came in from the bathroom. He stood just inside the door, the main stair light on behind him. He was naked! I looked. I could see his body, strong and muscular, and I could make out the shape of his long erect cock in the dark. I breathed in deeply and sidled towards him.

"God Lucy, you really are totally sexy tonight!"

I was trying to think just what mother would say in that sort of situation. Clearly I'd never seen or experienced any of my parents' most intimate moments, but I knew them both pretty well. Obviously. I'd seen them being friendly, in the kitchen or the living room, even interrupted them cuddling and so on a few times, I even had one photo of them in a semi-compromising position.

I had to make a guess as to how 'Lucy' might react. I put my arms round his neck and began to slide them down his back, appreciating for the first time a woman's view of my father. I'd admired his body - no, not admired, I'd envied his body, he was well muscled, toned. I'd always been on the weedy side, slim really, I probably took after my mother in that respect. I got up close, aware that without his glasses it would be difficult to focus from that range.

I posed in what I thought was a provocative feminine manner.

"You like what you see, Peter honey?"

I knew she called him honey sometimes, it seemed appropriate to do so in that situation. I was getting excited - of course I was - as I allowed my hands to slide down and round. To the front! I could feel his erection! Hell, I was feeling my Dad's cock!

"Ooh honey, I can tell. You do like that don't you?"

So I French-kissed Dad again. He took my arm to gently tug me towards him and led me towards the bed. Our bed. My own penis, in its pocket tucked into my latex gaff, was now becoming aroused too, I just hoped the gaff would hold it in enough. I wanted him. I wanted my father to shag me, hell no, I needed my husband to shag me. I needed to feel the length of my husband's cock plunging in and out of my own 'vagina'.

I was more than aroused by all had happened, all that was happening, and gradually began to realise what COULD happen to me that night! I let all control of myself go, and jumped headlong into it.

Peter was kissing me again, probing all the while at the inside of my mouth with his delicious tongue. This time, however, his hands had free rein to roam unchecked over all of me, and roam they did! The sexual and sensual excitement that I was feeling was all but overpowering. I squirmed playfully and felt his now-hard cock pressing even more deeply into the soft flesh of my thigh.

I was doing what I had always wanted to do, becoming what I had always wanted to be!. I was sexually arousing a man as a woman. I was a woman in every way that it was possible for me to be a woman at that moment. I was living the most incredible night of my entire life. I wanted to savour every instant of it. I needed him. My husband. I needed him to carry out his marital duties.

I didn't give him a chance to say more. I just threw my hands round his neck, this time sliding a hand quickly down past his waist and between his legs, cupping his balls and prick in my fingers. He pushed me down onto the bed and lay on top of me as we continued our petting. Needless to say his hands were still all over me. I slipped off my heels and pulled the covers over both of us, I really didn't want him inspecting my body too closely.

I knew that – if this was going to happen – it had to happen fast. In the semi-darkness Dad couldn't see me well, he was moving more by taste and touch. OK I looked like my mother but I wasn't sure I could carry off the impersonation in the dark he would be bound to notice any differences in my voice, or in the way my body felt. I was glad I'd used Mum's perfume, at least that sense was basically covered.

I kept my mouth open as I tongued him more, then opened my legs to present the hole in my latex gaff towards his cock, hoping he was still drunk enough. When I thought it was in just the right place I slid both hands down to his arse, dug in my long red nails, and heaved. Yes!

Now, I won't pretend it wasn't painful even though I'd tried to raise my arse so that it would be easier for my lover to enter me. I gasped deeply when its head popped past my sphincter, and I moaned loudly as he thrust the seven or eight inches of its thick shaft up inside me. He waited for a moment while I caught my breath, and began a slow, rhythmic, in and out motion, moving me to further heights of passion. My mind reeled with it all. At last I was being laid like a woman, I just didn't want it to stop. The feeling was incredible! I was being fucked, actually fucked! My Dad was fucking me!

His cock very quickly started to grow warm and twitch inside of me, and I knew that he was close to cumming. I didn't know whether I should say something or indeed what to say. I broke our kiss briefly and gripped my lover's bum hard as he pumped and pumped.

"Darling, yes, cum for me my love, cum hard in me. Oh yes, yes, YES. Fuck me, Peter, FUCK ME!"

My penis too was responding to being rubbed between our bellies as he shagged me. Suddenly Peter thrust his cock's full length into me! I felt it spasm hard, and then a sticky warmth grew deep within my bowels as he reached orgasm! He was cumming so hard and so hot, and I eagerly received his full load of semen! I had fulfilled the woman in me! My man had fucked me, and I enjoyed every second of his cumming!

My Dad's cock, my lover's, my husband's, Peter's cock - whichever - slipped from my arsehole as he fell back exhausted on the bed next to me.

"Streuth, Lucy, that was SO good, that was the best ...."

I caressed his lips gently once more with mine. At last the beer and the scotch - and the sex - caught up with him. He was totally knackered. He slept. Within half a minute he was breathing very deeply, almost snoring. I could easily have laid there for quite some time, enjoying my own satisfaction, revelling in the pleasure I'd given my husband. But I had to move. Quickly. VERY quickly.

I slipped out of the bed smoothly and gathered up my shoes - and my thong. Back in my own room I looked in my mirror one last time. I was shaking. Of course I was!

Then I set to. It had taken me hours to get myself ready, though I'd interrupted my preparations several times for various admirations and so on. Even working meticulously carefully I was me again in maybe just over twenty minutes. I was a bit scared Dad would wake up and catch me mid-strip, but he really was flat out. I was also concerned Mum might get back earlier than she'd thought. I wasn't sure which one I'd rather have find me out. Neither, obviously.

Within 30 minutes of starting I was done. I was sitting on my own bed in my shorts thinking through where I'd put things and what I'd put back where and so on. My sister's skirt and earrings were back in her room. I'd crept very quietly into my parents' room and put Mum's undies and stuff back where they should be while Dad still slept. My make-up was cleared carefully away, my own clothes and prostheses properly hidden behind other stuff in my room. I crept downstairs to look round and check, locked the doors.... And then I went to bed.