Date: Mon, 7 Sep 2015 23:29:23 +0000 (UTC)
From: Beaumonte Bill <oral_guy_2000@yahoo.com>
Subject: Marsha Under Cover Part 2

Marsha Under Cover (part 2)

How does a straight man deal with a truly beautiful cross-dresser, even
when he knows her secret?  I hope you enjoy this work of fiction.

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As I drove to the restaurant I wondered what Agent Sanders had meant by
"know how to treat a lady."  I expected that Marty would go through days of
training before ever dressing.

Upon arrival I entered the restaurant and looked for Marty.  I expected him
to be nearby, but he was nowhere in sight.  After looking for a minute or
so, a lovely woman stood up at a table nearby and waved to me.  This had to
be some sort of a joke on me.

I walked toward her and decided to play along, saying, "You really fem up
nicely, Marty!"

She put a finger to her lips as if to silence me, and I stopped.

She sat down and I joined her.  She said, "when I am like this, you must
call me Marsha."

I must have looked comical, with my mouth dropping open and my eyes wide.
She was beautiful, and instead of Marty's voice, I heard a girl's voice.
"How can this be?" I asked.

Marsha explained that she had been instructed in how to walk and feminine
mannerisms, as well as how to raise the pitch of her voice.  She couldn't
talk very loud like that, but she definitely sounded like a woman!  They
had taken her for a makeover, and did quite a good job at it.  She said
they would teach her how to do makeup and dress completely on her own.

I just couldn't get over how pretty she was – I wanted her!

What the hell was I thinking?  Marty was a guy in a dress and I was getting
aroused!  I'm straight and am just not into that sort of thing.

We had a nice conversation throughout dinner, but I was really nervous and
repeatedly fumbled my knife and fork.

"What's wrong?" asked Marsha, as she put her hand on mine.  Her touch
almost felt electric.  I stared at her hand – not the hairy hand of a
man, but smooth, long fingers with nails painted.

"Marsha," I said, "I'm straight and don't know how to deal with this – I
want you, but you are my partner – my male partner."

Marsha smiled at me and said, "How about if we both just enjoy the
fantasy?"

I was unable to speak, but just nodded in agreement.

After dinner we walked out of the restaurant and I walked Marsha to her
car.  She walked like a woman and her ass looked absolutely luscious!  She
was wearing heels and had not yet mastered walking in them.

"Take my arm," I said, "it will help you balance."

She took my arm and walked close to me.  Her closeness and the smell of her
perfume was intoxicating to me.

We arrived at her car and I opened the door for her.  "Such a gentleman,"
she said, smiling broadly.

Our faces were inches apart and I wanted to kiss her, but I simply could
not.  I was afraid of what was happening to me.

Marsha thanked me and kissed my cheek, and got into her car.

I drove home, wondering what I had gotten myself into.

The next day I was surprised to see Marsha at the station instead of Marty.

"I'm supposed to live this way full time to learn the part," she said.

"And you are to learn how to treat your wife," said Agent Sanders.

Two of my co-workers, Barry and Ed were leering at Marsha.  Barry smacked
Marsha on her pretty round ass, making her jump.  Immediately I responded
with, "cut the crap, damn it!"

The lieutenant saw the whole thing, and came out and said, "What the hell
is going on here?"

Barry said, "When do I get a partner this pretty?"

The lieutenant snapped, "Maybe Ed will get a pretty partner."  Both Barry
and Ed blushed.


"I don't know whether to put you on report for sexual harassment, or send
you back to diversity training!"

Barry saw that he was on the verge of trouble and kept silent, but Ed said
"Please, not that – we'll be good, but please don't send us back to
diversity training."

Everyone in the room bust out laughing, including the lieutenant.  That
took the edge off things, she just reminded everyone to behave and help
Marsha and I to prepare for our new jobs.

Agent Sanders briefed us for a few hours and then sent us both to Marsha's
training.  While Marsha was being instructed in feminine ways, a woman took
me aside and said she wanted to make sure I knew how to behave properly
with Marsha.

"You might see Marsha as a hottie," she said, "but you need to see her as
your wife, to whom you are completely devoted.  That also means protecting
her if she fumbles, never abandoning her and always be supportive."

"Yes, of course," I said.

"You may say that, but when the time comes, you must be prepared to act the
part," she countered.

She posed a variety of different scenarios and asked how I would respond.
Sometimes I got it right, but quite a few times she had to correct me.
When Marsha returned, my instructor told me to take Marsha in my arms and
kiss her.

I realized that if I was going to make this work I would have to think
completely of Marsha and suppress any thoughts of Marty.

She was so hot, I went up to her and took her into my arms, and held her
close.  I looked into her beautiful eyes and pressed my lips to hers.  She
surprised me when her tongue parted my lips and we both kissed deeply.

My instructor smiled and said, "Time to take your wife to dinner."

We departed and drove to a different restaurant.  We were seated and
ordered some wine.  They gave me a special credit card for expenses, and
our training was completely covered.

We talked and I confessed that I found her to be really desirable, but was
struggling with my own feelings.

"I had some doubts at first," said Marsha, "but I found that if I didn't
over-think things, and just let things happen, it would work out."

"You mean like that kiss?" I asked.

"Yes," she said, "and how was it for you?"

"I didn't think about it either – perhaps I should have," I replied, "I
really liked it, but I'm not sure I should have."

"Maybe you are doing too much thinking," Marsha responded.

"Marsha, I'm having feelings that I don't think I should have," I
confessed, "and diversity training never prepared me for anything like
this."

"I don't think there is anything that can prepare you for this," she
explained.

We had a nice dinner and walked out to my car, Marsha holding my arm.  I
was going to take Marsha home, but she said she was staying at a hotel, so
I took her there.  She told me that she wanted me to come up to her room,
and I agreed, though I wasn't sure what I was getting myself into.

The Feds had put Marsha up at the Amway Grand Hotel – an old but
prestigious hotel in downtown Grand Rapids.  It felt like a dream to walk
her to her room, her hand firmly holding my arm.

We entered the room and found it to be a very nice suite.  Marsha led me
into the bedroom and opened the closet, which was filled with clothes I
looked forward to seeing on Marsha.

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To be continued ...

Feel free to contact me with your comments or requests.  –Bill
(oral_guy_2000@yahoo.com)

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