Emily's welcome

I went into the bedroom and closed the door. Quickly I removed my boy clothes and selected a pretty pencil skirt, a silky cami top and a flowing blouse above, a pair of pretty tights and my new shoes. I spent a long time applying my makeup – this was the part I struggled with a lot, and then selected a long, red wig which fell about my shoulders.
I heard feet in the corridor more than once and there were gentle knocks on the door to see how I was getting on and would I be soon?

Finally, I looked in the mirror of the dressing table and saw Emily looking back at me, light pink lips gently pouting, and long thick eyelashes. Yes, I was ready to meet my love properly.

I walked to the door, a little unsteadily at first, and walked down the corridor to the lounge, loving the ‘click clack’ of my heels on the wooden floor. My gurl was sitting on the sofa with a drink, wearing a long skirt and blouse (I was so glad I’d not gone slutty with my dress choices) she patted the cushion next to her ‘I’ve made you a drink darling’ she said, her voice beautiful; I could see that she was now properly checking me out, and I loved it. I sat down and took the glass, she leaned over and gave me a kiss, I felt her tongue enter my mouth – just momentarily, but it was like electricity. ‘That’s better sweetheart – a proper kiss of welcome’ – we sat for a few moments sipping our drinks and chatting – mostly me talking about my new clothes purchases and inviting her to admire my new shoes. She’d warned me that tall gurls like us should try and avoid a heel, but I could see that she liked them, and more that she loved how pleased I was with them, I think she also liked the way that it made my leg shapely and pushed my bottom out a little as I walked.

In advance of the meeting, I’d researched somewhere for us to go in London, and also found that the club offered a car service – so we could get there and back discreetly - I had saved this gem up until last; my gurl’s delight was immediate and exciting, she pushed me back into the sofa, her tongue now franticly searching my mouth her hand running up my leg, across the taught fabric of my skirt and resting on the now growing bulge at my crotch.