She landed at Stanstead airport on the Friday night and I immediately thought I had made the wrong decision.First of all she did not look like in the ...photographs and although she was not ugly she hardly did herself any favours in her dress sense. Quite frankly she was dressed like a fifty year old widow. I was in my early forties at the time.As we drove up to Great Yarmouth I began to worry how I would be able to cope with her at my house for the next four weeks.When we reached home I made us. "It's awful, but I love how my legs look in nylons," Paul said in ashigh-pitched a voice as possible. "There. That's much better." "That color does show off your legs more," the woman said with one lastcheck of her own face before leaving. As Paul took a look in the mirror, hemade sure his breast forms were straight before being seen in public. "Seeyou." Paul enjoyed dressing as a girl at the bars. Not only did the men pay for hisdrinks, but he could drink any of them under the table. As he. Then, as she reached her peak, She cried out as she came hard in my mouth shaking and groaning as the orgasm rippled through her. I lapped up her lovely juices and reveled in her tangy taste, I took out my drenched fingers and moved them to her mouth where she eagerly lapped them up. She sat up, glowing and panting but eager for more. Without saying a word she pushed me down on to the bed and I lay back as she started to stroke my cock. By now it was rock hard and standing proud, ready to be. That meant removing all my unwanted hair, brushing out my auburn shoulderlength wig, finding the right lingerie and checking that my breast formswere ok. Making sure my nails were presentable and polished. I alsochecked for and found some heels to wear.And so early on a Saturday morning, a morning I usually had a lie in, Igot up and dressed from the skin out. I took my time and didn't rush. Irelished the chance to become my femme-self. I applied a very subtledaytime look to my make up not.