Chapter 7
"Let me see them!" Wendell said as he peeked around the cosmetics counter toward Marsha's feet.
"Oh, I think you've seen these before. They're just the studded, pink flat pumps." Marsha said to him.
"Oh, yes. Well, they're okay. But, you still haven't shown me those black satin t-straps." Wendell said to her.
"Soon, soon. They're just not my most comfortable shoes." Marsha said to him.
"We must suffer for beauty, and fashion." Wendell said to her, shaking his finger.
"Well, at least I don't have to get rid of too much hair." Marsha said.
"Yes. These poor ladies that I'm studying for my thesis, they have to do so much to keep up their feminine looks." Wendell said to her.
"How is your thesis coming?" Marsha asked Wendell, curiously.
"Oh, just fine. But, I wanted to ask you a favor." Wendell said to her.
"Sure, what is it?" Marsha asked him, clipping some Cover Girl foundation on the lazy susan.
"Well, I go to this tavern, you know, Doll and Penny's, like I told you. And, I've been interviewing the queens. But, I haven't had the nerve to go into the ladies' room." Wendell said to her.
"Oh, really Wendell! That shouldn't be so hard for you!" Marsha said to him.
"Well, it is. Some of the ladies are very sensitive, and I think they might resent my presence. They don't like a gentleman invading their retreat anymore than you would." Wendell said to her.
"So, what's the favor?" Marsha asked the anthropology major.
"Well, I have the feeling that the really interesting stuff is what goes on in the ladies' room. So, I'd like to take you to the tavern, and you go in there, and remember what goes on, and tell me about it." Wendell said to her.
"Sure, if you pay for a few drinks." Marsha said to him.
"Great. And, you can bring a girl friend along, if you want some company when you go in there." Wendell said to her.
"Oh, good. Because I don't know how they'd take to my presence, either." Marsha said to Wendell.
"Great. How about this Saturday night?" Wendell asked her.
"Okay. Me and my girl friend will be waiting for you. You'll drive us, won't you?" Marsha asked him.
"Mais, certainment." Wendell said.
Saturday came around. Jonathan was going to try out his new wig.
He wanted to try being a fiery red head. Actually, it was more of a sultry auburn than an orange red.
And, it was short and curly. It gave a totally new look to Joan.
So, Marsha decided to call the red-head Anita. That was Jonathan's mother's name.
He would blush every time that Marsha would call him by the new name. And, that made him look even more like a red-head.
His mother actually had brown hair, but just the mention of her name was enough to embarrass Jonathan. However, it gave him great pleasure as well.
Jonathan wore a smart, full skirted, fitted bodice dress. It was forest green wool.
The weather was already quite chilly. Jonathan had bought a princess style, navy blue wool coat, with red leather trimming.
He wore that, with a fur cap over his wig, and soft, leather gloves. He wore textured brown stockings, and ankle high, cone heeled boots.
Marsha wore pleated, grey wool pants, an oyster colored, angora sweater, with a turtle neck, and a pink and brown print rayon scarf around her slightly dirty hair.
But, for walking outside, she wore a brown wool cloth, a brown corduroy lined coat, and Frye boots underneath her pants. And, she wore brown, hand knitted mittens.
She wore a slash of orchid lipstick to add some pizzazz to her rather dull outfit. Jonathan, of course, wore full make up.
He even wore a splashing, Liza Minnelli pair of false eyelashes. He felt that they matched his curly red wig.
One thing that Marsha liked about Jonathan was that he didn't skimp on his clothing or make-up. This was in contrast to Frank, who Marsha hardly even bothered with anymore.
Frank seemed content to hide in his room and rub his dick to orgasm with some frilly panties. Marsha found this tedious to watch, so she often just left him to himself to do it.
But, Jonathan just kept on trying out new colors of lipstick, new wigs, and hairdos with his old wigs, and he was always purchasing new outfits. And, he got more and more adept at impersonating women.
And, as he got more and more feminine, he also got more and more adept at satisfying Marsha with his dick. They would spend hours sitting in her apartment, watching television, doing homework together, and discussing fashion.
They'd flip through old Vogue magazines. Marsha liked to get them decades old, for two cents at junk shops.
She found the best fashion sense was in adapting older fashions. They gained lustre, she thought.
And, as they discussed new looks, Jonathan would perhaps be humping her from the rear. She would rest her breasts on a pillow, and turn pages, while he pumped in and out of her.
Or, she would talk to him about hair dyes, and he would be licking her pussy, and nodding his head occasionally in agreement. He had become a much better cunnilinguist, Marsha found.
This was because he was also seeing more of Dale Kelly. And, she forced him to do it right.
He had to spend several hours a week sucking on her ripe cunt lips. And, if he didn't do it good enough, she would spank him.
He would sit over her lap, his trembling cock in some silk panties, while she walloped his ass cheeks until they were red and sore. Then, she would take his panties away from him, until he had redeemed them in her eyes.
And, Dale Kelly was always calling him "Joan," or "Cynthia," or "Letitia" just loud enough for someone else to maybe hear when she saw him in the hallway or in the library.
And, Jonathan knew that he would have to take her introductory anthropology class with her the next semester. He dreaded the embarrassment that she would cause him then.
But, still, Jonathan was drawn to the older woman. He felt good having a few women know about his needs and desires.
He was only truly satisfied sexually when he could dress chicly, or be in soft, silky underthings, and then satisfy a real woman's desires. And, Marsha and Dale Kelly would both allow him to do that, each in her own style.
Marsha and Jonathan sat in her living room, waiting for Wendell to ring the bell for them to come down. Jonathan was all excited with the prospect of being with other men like himself.
Although, Marsha had warned him that the men at this place were probably gay. And, Jonathan was not so.
But, still, in their fashion sense, and taste in textures, they would be like him, Jonathan thought. He couldn't wait to parade his stuff in the tavern.
Finally, the buzzer went off. Marsha and Jonathan clattered down the stairs, and out to Wendell's waiting car.
"Oh, and who is this?" Wendell asked Marsha.
"Wendell, this is my friend, Anita. She lives in my building." Marsha said to him.
"And, does Anita know what sort of a place we're going to?" Wendell asked slightly apprehensively.
"Oh, very much so. Don't worry about her." Marsha said to Wendell.
Wendell smiled. He drove toward town. Jonathan's cock rose underneath his wool skirt.