Turnabout Gurls A Substitute Then A Full Time Wife

Sis owned a security company doing specific surveillance jobs as requested or needed. Most of the time, it was just following someone and ensuring they didn't get themselves into trouble. Most of the people she was paid to keep track of were pretty high-profile, so they were instant targets for the news media and other individuals with varied and nefarious reasons to exploit them.

Quite often, I was invited along, two people out wandering, not standing out like an individual would. In this particular case, my presence was instrumental in saving the day.

I liked to dress all femmy, not quite sure what group of people I would be classified with. I don't think I was transgender; I still appreciated my time as a male, well, on second thought, that might be debatable. Maybe somewhere between a tranny and a cross-dresser, if that is even possible. I loved the clothes, makeup, and heels - okay, I loved every bit of dressing as a woman.

Tonight, I was dressed from head to toe as a female, wearing a way-too-tight sweater dress that someone might see. It was one of my older purchases, one that I adored and found any excuse to wear it often. My makeup was daytime appropriate, having just applied another coat of lipstick to my lips. Riding along with Sis allowed me to get out in the real world without all the stress of going clubbing.

Her current assignment was as the CEO of a prominent company, which had been in the news frequently. However, not all of the publicity was in her favor. It was thought he had gathered a small group of paparazzi looking for a chance to take a few pictures, then exploit the story, or better yet, make one up to suit their needs.

The CEO was a typical male; instead of lying low and waiting for things to blow over, he continued on his way, almost inviting trouble to find him.

The company he worked for hired Sis's company to shadow him, and try to minimize any potential scandals if possible. The company's financial status was far from perfect at the time; changing the CEO would only exacerbate the disaster that loomed over them.

I had been out with her several times in the last few days, as we followed him around, noticing the pack of scum that had been following him at a distance. It was apparent he was totally unaware of the scum, not even realizing we were a constant companion to his travels along with the others. Sis perked up when he drove to a motel on the edge of town.
When he pulled into the parking lot and drove to the back of the motel, she knew what he was thinking about doing. It was a motel known for being used when a prostitute is being met for a rendezvous.

She parked a few spaces away from him and told me to approach him, pull him into a hug, and whisper in his ear that he needed to drive you back home; the photographers were already parked out front, waiting for his next move. She would meanwhile handle the prostitute and make it seem that he was meeting me for a secret rendezvous.

Nervously, I got out of the car and made my way to him quickly, putting my arms around his neck and hugging him tightly, whispering that he needed to take me to my place. That part went according to plan; however, the next part did not.

He presumed me to be a prostitute and kissed me on the lips in a very passionate way. I tried to push him away, but he was so wrapped up in the kiss that I found it impossible to get him separated from my lips. Then we have the secondary problem, his erection is quite noticeable and tenting his pants to obscene proportions. The sweater dress was so tight that his erection felt more than just pressed into my skirt. He pushed tighter against me as his erection pushed deeper into the skirt, as I tried to get his attention.

Finally, what I had said initially sunk in, and he broke off the kiss and looked at me with pleading eyes. I mentioned that the press was waiting for him out front, and we needed to hurry. I hung on to him as I encouraged him to head to his car. As he opened his car door, I slid past him into the front seat, keeping me in front of me for most of the time. I told him where to take me, but that changed a few minutes later when my sister texted me.

She wanted him to take me to his home and to stay there until she called. No visitors, no phone calls, and stay put were given straightforwardly as she told him directly, then promptly ended the phone call.  

It took him a few minutes for all of this to sink in, but he eventually headed to his home. As we pulled out in front of the motel, he saw all the press standing there, several of them inquiring at the office as to what room he had rented. He swallowed hard, but was able to concentrate enough on his driving to get us out of there.

I looked behind us, but didn't see anyone following us, so we may have made a clean getaway. I knew once the press found out he was not there, some of them would head to his home, looking for him.

He parked in his garage and closed the garage door with his remote. I saw him let out a breath; apparently, all of this had gotten to him, and he was visibly shaken. I suggested we get inside, Sis would probably be calling soon on his land line. We ended up in his living room. After a few minutes of silence, he asked who I was and whether I had been hired by his company.

I told him that my sister had been hired by them to keep an eye out for him, exactly what she had done tonight. When she calls, she can explain everything else to him. After a few more minutes, he swallowed hard again and apologized for kissing me at the motel. I smiled, told him it was okay, and then made him blush when I said to him that was some kiss.

A few minutes later, Sis called and they talked for quite some time. Several times, he looked my way, and I figured the conversation at that time was about me. After about twenty minutes, she asked to talk to me, and he handed the phone over to me.

Sis told me that several of the press had already shown up at the house, parked in the driveway of an abandoned house a couple of doors down and across the street from his home. When she drove by, she noticed a dish set up by the side of one car and a camera on a tripod next to it. The camera had a telephoto lens mounted on it, and the dish was used to listen to conversations anywhere in the house. They were still setting up when she drove by the first time, so probably nothing was heard when we first arrived at the house.

During the phone conversation, she was using a scrambler that emitted a tone, masking most of the conversation as far as the listening device was concerned. Once the phone call was over, we had to watch what was said, staying away from any windows and doors. I was to play his wife, his real wife, who left him several years ago and has not been heard from since.

We were to sleep together in the same room and interact with each other when getting ready for bed and in the morning as he got ready for work. She was sorry that I got involved in this, but until tomorrow, she had no way to tidy things up. I was cautioned again to watch what we discussed; if anything was discussed, make it about the marriage. I handed the phone back to the guy, and she told him the same thing, then hung up.

There was quite a bit of eerie silence, neither of us knowing what to say. He got up and reached for my hand, then led me to his bedroom. He showed me the bath, and then a closet that held a lot of his wife's clothes. He told me to look for a nightie, and he would take a shower to let me have some privacy. That was said in a whisper in my ear. I smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

He stared at me, then melted a little, giving me a tender hug. He headed off to shower, and I looked in the closet to see what his former wife had left. It was apparent she had left in a hurry, since there didn't seem to be anything missing. The closet was full, with high heels scattered on the floor, and underwear neatly lined up in clear plastic boxes on the shelves at one end.

I found a nightie. After undressing, I slipped it on; it was a little tight in the waist, but otherwise it fit pretty well. I found clean panties and put them on. Then a robe to minimize the sexual aspect of the nightie. The nightie was far from matronly.

I decided to play the wife part for a while, going to the kitchen and seeing what was available to make for a snack. From the amount of pizza in the freezer, he must like pizza. I found a smaller one, started the oven, and placed it inside.

There were tons of tea on the counter, almost every conceivable kind represented. I chose one that I liked to drink and made up a pitcher of it. I found some cookies in the pantry and some containers of pre-made icing, so I iced a few cookies, planning to slip them in the oven after the pizza came out, warming them a little so they would taste like fresh-baked cookies.

I walked around the house, looking at everything, trying to get a sense of what he was like. You can often tell what a person is like by looking at how they live. After my tour, I checked the pizza, then sat on a bar stool by the serving bar. From the few crumbs left on the counter, most likely where he ate all the time.

I cleaned the counter and found a couple of glasses for the tea, which I also had to wash since they were dirty. I set them on the counter and turned to the door to see if he had finished his shower. He was standing in the doorway frame, smiling at me, then walked over and hugged me, giving me another kiss on the lips. He did tone it down some from the kiss at the motel, though.

I pushed him back a little; this was progressing a little farther than I intended and much faster than I could handle. I took him to the bar and pushed him onto one of the barstools. I shook my finger at him, as he smiled and reached for me again. I evaded his hands and walked over to the oven to check on the pizza.

I turned the oven off; a few more minutes in the warm oven, and it should be ready. I retrieved the glasses, filled them with ice, and then poured the tea into them. As I placed them on the serving bar, I had to dodge his roving hands once more. I took out the pizza, cut it into pieces, and placed it on the counter. Then I put the tray of cookies in the oven, with the oven door slightly open. They would be warm but not hot.

I found my bar stool and moved it a little farther away from his, smiled, and parked my fanny on it. I reached for a piece of pizza, took a bite, and savored the taste. He obviously bought the better brands, since this one was superb. I had found some Italian dressing and sprinkled a little on the pizza as it was cooking; it blended the flavors better and enhanced the pizza's taste. My acquired husband had finally relented a little, taking a piece of pizza for himself and letting out a moan of pleasure at his first bite.

He got up, moved his stool closer to me, and finished his first piece with his other hand on my thigh. He definitely has a one-track mind; he may eat most of the pizza and take a nap. At least I can hope.

We watched what we said to each other, in case we could be overheard. The cookies were also a hit; I managed one, while he ate all the rest. After the pizza was consumed, I wrote on the pizza box that we should go to bed, but nothing but cuddling was allowed. I warned him I had a black belt in Karate and I would stop any effort on his part to use his do hickey where it was not wanted.

He smiled and crossed his heart. He wandered off to the bedroom, trying the hurt puppy dog look, and I cleaned up the kitchen. When finished, I went to the bedroom, slipped off my robe, and climbed under the covers. A bath or shower would have to wait until tomorrow, while he is at work, but at least my body will have something between the two of us.

He did go right to sleep; this time, it was my turn to let out a huge sigh. He was good the next morning as he got ready for work. I did get a kiss on the lips, and then he was gone. When I was receiving the kiss, I noticed his crotch, his organ once more inflated, wanting to stab something, anything would do.

Sis called a little later, wanting to meet me at her beauty salon. She had made appointments for us, and we could use the time to discuss what's next as they made me pretty. Her words, not mine. I arrived, but I did notice that I had a tail; the press must be getting desperate to end up following his supposed wife for a story.

Sis was already there, her hair in curlers, as I was taken to a station to have my hair washed and conditioned. Once that was handled, she grabbed my hand and pulled me to their lounge, where they had soft drinks and snacks available for their customers.

Sis explained that the press had already made some inquiries about his wife, even dragging up a picture of her from the newspaper files. Luckily, I looked enough like her that my role as his wife should not be questioned.

As far as Sis could tell, the wife had found someone else and they were living somewhere in South America. The information from a school chum of the wife, who still kept track of the husband for the ex-wife. Apparently, she had asked for a divorce, but he had ignored her request and never replied to any of her emails.

So I will need to be the wife for a while while Sis tries to get the press off his case. She is hoping that things at his company will smooth out a little, thus reducing his status as an integral part of any story.

I asked her how I can control his horniness, since anytime he is near me, he is ready to stab something. She thought for a minute, then a huge smile came over her face.

"Yep, that will be a perfect way to combat his lust and take the pressure off of you." That statement was voiced, although I sensed she did not really want to say anything out loud.

I looked expectantly at her, waiting for her to tell me what she had come up with. Then the three words that immediately sent shivers through my body were voiced.

"A fake vagina. I know the salon can handle that procedure here and now. So by the time you get back to your home, you will be ready to handle any expectations made of you by your husband."

I didn't faint, but it was close as I wavered a little between consciousness and out to the world. I did manage to ask why me.

"Look, you enjoy dressing as a female, now you can experience the other part of being a female. It is not all clothes, beauty salons, and shopping. So you get to do what most homemakers do every day, and maybe learn something about the superior gender. Besides, you don't have anything else to do; this will keep you off the streets and out of trouble."

"You will also learn that women are the superior gender, a simple thing like getting sex, and he will do anything you want. Now, let me arrange your sex change, then we will have time to do a little shopping before you head home to your hubby. Just think of a warm, stiff penis slipping into your moist vagina, and the fireworks start."

She played with her phone for a minute, then a smile appeared on her face. Yep, they can work you in right now. One hot, moist pussy coming up.

"Oh gawd, do you have to go into detail. Surely you are kidding me."

Just then, a technician comes and escorts me to a private room in the back of the salon. As I am led away, I look back in hopes of being saved, but sis smiles and goes back to reading her magazine. The technician spreads a cream over the entire groin area, leaves it for a while, and then wipes it off; the small amount of body hair that was there is now gone. Junior now looked quite pathetic, since his camouflage had now been removed.

The area around my male organ is thoroughly cleaned, then the offending appendage is glued back between my legs. I now have a flat front, just like any other woman. She lifts a silicone vagina and then positions it over my male organ, making sure the tip of my penis is in the right place. Then it is glued down to my groin, and some semi-permanent makeup is used to blend it in with my natural skin. Just like that, I am a female as far as genitals and looks are concerned.

I looked down there again, and my mind had already succumbed to the lure of a female vagina, picturing a male organ sliding into the warm, moist slit. The tech wanted to know if I wanted to try it out, but I refused. I am sure it will get a workout soon enough.

Back to the lounge, then both of us are placed under hair dryers so that our locks can dry. Our hairstyles are brushed out after the curlers are removed, then a touch-up of our makeup, and sis gives me a tender hug.
As she walks away, she turns and says Have fun, but please keep the noise down. I make my way back home, his home, noticing that the group across the street has grown in size.

Potential stories must be at a premium right now.

I let myself in, then walk through the house, seeing what this housewife needs to do to fulfill my part in this scenario. I find some meat in the freezer; from the looks of it, it's no telling how long it has been there. I decide to cook it up; maybe a slow cooker would be best, since I have several hours yet before my hubby gets home.

Sis had postponed the shopping trip to another day, since she received a text message that needed to be looked into. So cooking something for dinner and cleaning up around the house will have to do for my afternoon entertainment.

The meat turned out to be okay, then I added potatoes and some onions. The juice from the meat will make some tasty gravy, rounding out the dinner offering. I made some more tea, this time a different variety from his extensive selection.

I decided I needed some different clothes for dinner. If I am the aggressor in the romance department, it might throw him off his game. I found some lounging pajamas, thin, lacy, and downright obscene. If they don't arouse him quickly and make him stiff, he is already one foot in the grave. I did smile a bit; this might be fun.

I heard his car in the garage and ran to the door, wanting to give him a wifely welcome. As he came through the door, I wrapped my arms around his neck and planted my lips on his. I did catch him by surprise as he didn't know quite what to do. He quickly gave in and returned the kiss, our tongues actively in pursuit of each other. As he backed off, he took in my appearance, his penis quickly rising to attention once again.

Before he could plan an attack, I led him to the table and pushed him down in his chair. Poured him a glass of tea over ice, then went to the kitchen to retrieve the food. His eyes locked on my tush and what he could see through the pajamas. It took me three trips to get the food to the table; his eyes never left my body. I appreciated the attention, which made me feel wanted. I dished out some of the food on his plate, then some on mine.

Meanwhile, he had taken a bite of my offerings and let out some moan/groan, I presume, in appreciation of what I had made for him. I knew he was having trouble deciding whether to watch me in the pajamas or eat some of the delicious food. I didn't make it easy for him as I was constantly adjusting the top over my breasts or moving an erstwhile breast back into the built-in cups of the top.

Each time I looked up, his eyes were glued to my breasts. Once, he almost spilled all of his drink down his front while watching me move a breast back into place. When his eyes finally left my body, his drink was nearer his ear than his mouth. Yep, this is fun.

I received his help clearing the table, although I had told him I could handle it. Let's face it, now that the food is gone, he can spend all his time ogling my body. As soon as I declared the cleanup complete, he grabbed my wrist and led me to the living room. He sat me on the couch, then attempted to park his body as close to me as he could.

He whispered in my ear that dinner was delicious, but the way I am dressed far exceeds any dinner I might have made for him. He wants to be good, but it is so hard. He did place my hand on his penis; there is no doubt of his arousal.

We chit-chatted, keeping our voices low, just barely above a whisper. I decided to tell all. It is not fair for me to deceive him, even if the original reason for the masquerade was to protect him. After I had told him I was a male underneath all of the feminine clothes and padding, he pulled back a little, carefully examining me for any telltale signs of that fact.
He leaned in closer and kissed me on the lips, putting as much passion in the kiss as possible. When he broke off the kiss, I had to compose myself, my breathing ragged and my heart rate soaring.

His whispered response, No, you are female, and let's not bring up that subject again. The cuddling, kissing, and romantic adventures continued for at least an hour. Then he decided we needed to move our activities to the bedroom.

Like last night, he was a gentleman, taking his shower first while I prepared myself for bed. Makeup removed, hair in a braid, and a new nightie, and I joined him after using the bathroom. I was pulled closer and held tightly. He thanked me for the wonderful dinner and for being so lovely to him, asking if I was available to fill the job permanently.
If so, he was ready to sign a contract. I looked at him to see if he was serious, receiving a kiss on the end of my nose as his arms engulfed my body and held it tightly.

Before long, he was asleep, leaving me quite a bit to think about while being held in his arms. That familiar feeling of something poking me in the butt was back, though, a little more complicated and stiffer than last night. I too nodded off, sleeping soundly until he kissed me on the lips as he left me on his way to work the next morning.

I lay there, that is two nights in a row of him treating me like a treasured commodity, even though I had divulged to him that I was male underneath the clothing. He was treating me like a wife; I may need to look into his former wife, why she left, and what kind of person she was. Time to call Sis, let her gather up the information for me.

Of course, Sis gave me grief, accusing me of falling for him, lots of giggling from her in that short conversation. She did find out about his wife, sending me an email with a whole history of their relationship and eventual parting of the ways. She did it in her usual manner, sending an email that led to a file on her website with all the information clearly outlined.

His ex was apparently a gold digger, hitching her wagon to an up-and-coming executive and riding along till the wagon was ripe for plucking. About the time she was thinking of taking him for every penny, she found an admirer, one who was richer in many ways. She left her current husband, wanting not to miss out on this new boyfriend.

He lives in Argentina and, in addition to being wealthy, owns a substantial amount of land. He was heading back down south and invited her to go with him. She has indeed asked for a divorce several times, but James has left any requests unanswered. So far, no lawyers have been consulted; however, they will inevitably be consulted at some point in the future.

I resorted to cooking another pizza for tonight, this one an extra-large with everything on it. I hunted through his cabinets for something to add to it, making an okay pizza spectacular: more Italian dressing, some green olives, and some almost out-of-date Parmesan cheese. I tried a bite after it had cooked; luck was with me, as this one tasted better than the first one I had made.

I met him at the door again, this time in a pencil skirt and a lacy blouse. My bra is showing through the blouse. The requisite passionate kiss, and then he was led to the kitchen. I will have to watch myself; these kisses are becoming habit-forming and so enjoyable.

My food offerings were quickly consumed, and he even helped me straighten the kitchen and wash the dishes. He had been a little quiet tonight, as if he had something he wanted to bring up but didn't know how to do it.

Finally, I told him to spit it out; at the worst, I would find something heavy and throw it at him; at the best, he might get a kiss. I sat back, letting him squirm, trying to get comfortable and able to discuss what he wanted.

He surprised me by telling me that his divorce is final now. He signed the uncontested divorce papers just yesterday. Her boyfriend wanted to get married, so to do so meant she had to get a divorce. Now, for a few things you may not be aware of.

"Your sister and I are old school chums, even living together for a few months in an apartment shared among six people. When the press started following me, I contacted her, needing her help on how to deal with them. We shared several dinners as we tried to figure out what could be done. Then she came up with the idea of getting the two of us together. She has been thrilled at how successful it has been, now considering her hand at match-making as a profession."

Since you arrived, the press has backed off somewhat, as there is no story in a couple exchanging loving embraces.

"When I commented on making it permanent, I was serious. I would like you to marry me and become my wife. Since then, you have shown me what married life could be like, something I never experienced in my earlier marriage. I do love you. From the first kiss at the motel, I have fallen for you, never wanting to be without you in my life. I have an engagement ring for you, hoping you will accept it and agree to be my wife."

He reached into his pocket and retrieved a gorgeous diamond engagement ring and slipped it on my finger. I was already shedding tears, mouthing yes, and trying to keep the tears from my eyes so I could look at the ring. I sensed the time was here for a kiss, grabbing his head in my hands and kissing him hard on the lips. He tried to take control, but this was my kiss, and I was controlling the action.

It lasted forever; I was not even letting him have a chance to take a breath. Tongues met and exchanged fluid, but the lips were where all the action was. When I finally broke the kiss, I giggled a bit; he had more lipstick on his lips than I usually had on mine. He looked cute in lipstick, so I leaned in again and sampled the merchandise once again.

When things returned to normal, whatever that is, he suggested a trip to Vegas, not wanting to waste any time and take a chance on my changing my mind. I don't think he has to worry about that, but I won't tell him that.

Well, we didn't wait for things to settle down; we were on a flight the next morning, were married, and back home that evening. I was now Ms. Lori Walker, and I was so happy.

He kept asking about a honeymoon. I just shook my head no; our bed will be sufficient. He needs to stay in it for the duration: other than a few snacks, that is where we stayed, seven days of sexual bliss. On the last day, he was having trouble getting it up, informing me he had to go to work so he could rest for a while. That night, I used up his one day of rest and more, suggesting he eat more carbohydrates and protein so that he could please his new wife.

I dealt with Sis, finding her a suitable match, then arranging for them to be locked in his home for the long weekend. I received no complaints from either of them, plus if sis wanted out, she had a lock pick in her purse.

It started as a substitute wife, but ended up as a permanent wife for my husband. Luck, maybe fate, even a scheming sister, but I will happily settle for any of those reasons. I am a wife now, and I couldn't be happier.

© 2016 through 2025 by Francesca Walker