This is a story about trans woman living her best life. It contains a sex scene

"No, I'm just a housewife."

As soon as I said that, it struck me with full force, that's what I was now to the world, just a housewife.

Sally smiled and said.

"Oh, don't say just. A housewife, Susan, it's a full-time job."

Bill's hand was working its way up my skirt under the table and was tugging the strap on my suspender belt. He loved me in stockings, which was why I wore them tonight.

We had moved into our new house in Ware, Hertfordshire last week. Sally and John were our neighbours and had invited us for dinner. I was nervous. I had only been living full time as a woman for a month. I was still scared about passing. Bill insisted. He said I had to test myself at some stage. The sooner the better.

I had taken all afternoon making sure my makeup and outfit were perfect. I wore a white satin blouse with a large bow at the collar and puffy sleeves. A knee-length flared black skirt. The flare helped the illusion of hips. I wore black court shoes with a modest one-inch heel. It screamed safe, mumsy, housewife.

Dinner seemed to go well. I didn't get any lingering looks from Sally or John. Except when we arrived, and I sat on their sofa for a pre-dinner sherry, my skirt rode up a little, and John caught a glimpse of my stocking top. I quickly tugged down the hem.

I took a few seconds to respond to Sally. I still wasn't used to being Susan. Susan, Bill's wife. A housewife.

"It certainly is Sally. Men think we sit at home watching daytime TV, drinking tea. There is endless, shopping. cooking, dusting, hoovering, washing, and ironing. It never ends. Bill expects his dinner on the table as soon as he gets home."

"Same with John, Susan. Whoever said, a woman's work is never done , was right. It certainly wasn't a man who said that."

We both giggled. It was still a struggle keeping my voice high enough to sound female. I had been practising for months to speak from high in my throat. Men speak from their chests. It seemed to work for me.

The men looked at us and rolled their eyes. It felt good thinking "the men" as I knew Sally and I were women. At least in the eyes of our neighbours. I was accepted as a woman.

Sally stood and said, "I'll clear up."

"I'll help you, Sally."

"No, you're our guest, you don't have to."

Nonsense, I thought. No self respecting women would let another clean up on her own. I knew she would think less of me if I didn't.

As I stood, Bill snapped my suspender strap. I gave him as sharp look as he grinned at John. He knew what he had done. Bloody men. I thought.

I helped Sally clean up while the men finished their drinks and chatted. I still wasn't sure about Sally. I thought I would flatter her to get her on my side. We chatted as we cleared the plates and loaded the dishwasher.

"I wish I had your figure, Sally. You look so feminine compared with me. I always feel like a big lump next to you. "

Everyone knows women love compliments. I knew she would love that remark, even though she would try to deflect it.

"Don't say that Susan. You look beautiful. I noticed John ogling your legs earlier."

"Sorry about that."

"Not your fault that John is a perv"

We both laughed.

"Women in my family have always been big," I said. "My grandmother was nearly six foot. She ran my grandfather's farm when he died. I come from a long line of big butch farm girls."

"Susan, you're not that tall. Not by today's standards. Anyway, Bill must be well over six foot. You look good together."

I was five foot eight. I was saying all this to put her mind at rest, just in case she thought I looked a little masculine.

"Thanks, Sally. I just don't feel that feminine some days."

"Well, I think you look wonderful. I would kill to have legs like you."

We were having a typical "girlie" chat. complimenting each other.

"You know what, Susan, when you get settled in, you must come to one of the local W.I. meetings with me."

The W.I., is the Women's Institute. It used to be known as Jam and Jerusalem. Nowadays, they do more than make jam and go to church. That really would be a test. What could I say?

"I would love to. Thank you, Sally."

Bill helped me put on my coat, and we kissed our neighbours goodbye. When we got in, I collapsed on the sofa.

"I think I passed. " I said.

"You sure did. When I saw John staring at your stockings, it really turned me on."

I knew what turned him on, but I had to ask.

"Why?"

"Because he wanted to fuck you, but he can't because you're mine."

He chuckled, pulled me into his body and started rubbing my backside through my dress. His right hand slid up my stocking covered leg and caressed my knickers.

"You wore them then?"

I kissed him and said.

"Of course I did. You asked me too. What wife wouldn't wear a gift from her husband."

He was talking about the pink silk French knickers I was wearing. He likes me to wear sexy undies all the time. When I moved in with him, he went through my underwear and threw out the plainer stuff. He spent a fortune replacing it with lace, silk and satin. He told me I was always to look sexy for him under my clothes.

I had no, jeans, leggings or slacks. Skirts and dresses only. Bill had been married to a bit of a cold fish. She stopped dressing to attract him as soon as he married. He was making up for it with me now.

"You're mine Susan. It gets me hard at work knowing you're wearing sexy silk underwear just for me. "

It was for me as well. I loved the idea of being able to turn him on with my body. I dressed every morning wondering it he would appreciate my underwear. It made me feel so feminine. Knowing I would always have to wear sexy underwear because he insisted on it, it turned me on.

"I can't wait" he said.

"Oh Bill, can't you wait just until we go to bed. It won't be long."

"No, I'm having you now."

"Bill, no wait."

He ignored me and forced me back toward the table. I sat on the edge and he lifted my skirt and petticoat. Then he stared at the knickers he brought me. My small cock tented the front slightly.

"Beautiful . Just for me. You are mine and I'm never letting you go."

I smiled. It is so wonderful to be wanted. For the first time in my life I knew what that felt like. I would do anything to please him.

He gripped my small member in his large hand and started to caress me through the silk and lace. My head went back and I moaned. Unless you have felt your cock played with through silk you wouldn't know how good it feels.

He stopped and I looked down. He had gone to his knees and pulled my cock through lace edge. He had never sucked me before. What was happening?

"Bill, you don't have to..... ahhhhhh"

He took all of me in his mouth at once. Oh god it felt so good. It had been so long. I fell backward onto the table. His tongue was doing wonders. I couldn't help myself and spurted into his mouth.

"Oh, Bill I'm so sorry. I couldn't help myself. I know you said you would never do that. I just...."

"I did it because I love you Susan. You're my woman. I want to make you happy."

I felt a lump in my throat. I threw my arms around him and hugged him.

"I love you too Bill. I just want to be the perfect wife for you. I just want to make you happy."

As I said that I slid down his body. I yanked his trousers down and his rock hard cock sprang up to meet me. I engulfed it. My head bobbed up and down, I sucked and swirled my tongue around the head. I would show him who was the best cocksucker in this house.

My earrings bounced against my face, my long pink nails tickled his balls as I worked. These sensations made me feel so feminine. He groaned and pushed me back.

I looked up at him.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No, baby, I just want to finish inside you."

He helped me to my feet and bent me over the table. I felt my skirt and petticoat flipped up, and my knickers pulled down to my stocking tops. I was a little worried. I always prepare myself before Bill comes home. That was four hours ago though.

Then I saw Bill grab the cooking oil from the counter top. He popped the lid and smoothed a handful onto his cock.

"Don't worry dear. I always think of you."

I started to laugh. That turned into a groan as he slid into me. It hurt a little, but I felt wonderfully full. I had played with dildos and vibrators, but there is nothing like a warm, hard, living cock.

He started to slowly pump into me. I felt his hands slip under my suspender straps and grip the fat on my hips so he could pull me hard into him. I could hear the rhythmic slap of his body hitting my buttocks. I caught a glimpse of our reflection in the glass cupboard next to the table.

I saw a women being fucked over the kitchen table. A wife, a housewife.
Her world was that of washing, shopping, ironing, cleaning cooking. Wearing makeup, bracelets, rings, necklaces. Always being in silk, satin and nylon underwear. All of it covered in delicate lace and frills. Appearing to the world in dresses, skirts, blouses, heeled shoes and boots. The clicking as she walked a constant reminder that she was a woman. A female just like all the other women.

Bill picked up the seed. I felt him slamming into my prostate. Then I felt his cock grow larger as he exploded inside me . I couldn't help it. His cock and the vision of the housewife being fucked in her own kitchen drove me to a second orgasm.

I lay across the table thoroughly satisfied. This is who I was meant to be. I had been robbed of it due to a little piece of meat between my legs. Now I had a man who loved me, and a life I loved.

I was Bill's wife, just a housewife, and I wouldn't have wanted to be anything else.