[continued from previous message]

old for you. Go out and explore the world. Find something exotic to
tickle your fancy before you remarry," Gillian fixed her lipstick,
holding up a compact mirror in front of her face as she did so.

"I've got a rather virile West Indian chap who does for me when I need a
bit of spice in my life. Go and find something equally extravagant for yourself," Gillian tucked away her compact and put on her jacket.

"Now be a good boy and flush these down the loo will you. Can't put them
in the bin can we?" Gillian reached up and kissed his cheek then rubbed
away her lipstick.

She unlocked and opened the door and stepped confidently outside as if
they had just finished some important business.

Donald looked down and saw that she had pressed the tissues that they
had used to clean up in his hand. He suppressed a laugh and made his way
to the gentleman's lavatory, took one last sniff of Gillian Snodgrass'
pungent fanny, and flushed the tissues away.

Julie Clifford

Julian brought The Story of O home with him and had read more of the
tome on the train. He had enjoyed wearing the sheer pantyhose and the
full-cut satin knickers under his suit during the day. Once he'd got
over his trepidation he was able to enjoy the feel of the garments on
his tingling flesh. Julie had flitted in and out of Julian's
consciousness throughout the day, especially during the lunch break when
he read more of The Story of O and Julie had imagined it was her who surrendered herself to the man she loved.

Once home Julian surrendered the consciousness of his body to Julie who
took a quick bath, plucked a few stray hairs from her chin and put on
her makeup: it was bold and brazen and whoreish, which is what she was
about to become. She'd glanced at the red telephone on her way upstairs
and part of her was begging for it ring and another part of her was
praying for it not to.

She finished her transformation into a whore: tight black vinyl micro miniskirt, white satin blouse, black seamed nylon stockings, bright red
satin knickers with black lace trim, four-inch patent leather black high
heels and bouffant wig. Her bra was stuffed with breastforms to enhance
her figure. She accessorised with gaudy junk jewellery and studied her reflection in the mirror. She looked like a cheap whore which was
exactly the effect she was looking for. She sprayed perfume all over
herself and made her way downstairs.

She had no sooner lit a cigarette and poured herself a drink when the
phone rang.

"You the tranny who does hand relief?" the cockney accented voice asked.

"Two quid. A bit of slap and tickle, finishing with hand relief.
Spanking and corporal punishment if you want it," Julie replied almost mechanically.

"Two quid's a bit much for a wank luv," the man countered.

"I'm a good looking sort in my thirties with a nice house and a lot
better than those slags working the streets. Take it or leave it," Julie
tried to sound nonplussed.

"Aright, two quid. Where am I goin'?" the man sounded defeated but also
eager.

"Twelve, Black Prince Road, Lambeth," Julie quipped and hung up.

She swallowed her drink and poured another.

The phone rang again and she requested the man call back in half an
hour. He was reluctant but Julie told him to look at her picture on the
tart card and promised him that was exactly what he would he get. She
also promised him there might be something extra if he was presentable
and amenable to negotiation. This intrigued the punter and he promised
to call back.

The doorbell rang and Julie peeped out to see a man in a boiler suit
under a fur-lined work jacket looking anxiously up and down the street.

She let the man inside and her nose was immediately assaulted by the
smell of machine oil, grease and smoke.

The man tried to paw her but Julie pushed him away.

"You're not touching me until you've had a wash and brush up!" Julie
said curtly and the man bowed his head compliantly and followed her up
the stairs.

"Yes mistress," he mumbled and Julie instantly ascertained what this
gentleman would need.

"Go in there. Strip. Clean yourself up and present yourself to me when
you are presentable," she pointed to the door to her workroom.

She had put a good quality lock on her own bedroom door and kept the
spare key hidden under a vase on a side table near her bedroom door
where she could get to it easily. She didn't want any of the punters inadvertently entering her bedroom and it was also a sanctuary should
anything untoward happen.

Julie heard the water running in the bathroom followed by the sound of
bare feet on the hallway runner and the man entered the workroom fully
naked carrying his clothes which he dropped on a chair.

The man wasn't handsome but nor was he ugly, he was a little shabby with unkempt brown hair, pale skin and a missing incisor. He was muscled from
manual labour and his skin smelled of the cheap soap she'd put out in
the spare bathroom for just such an eventuality. The man was erect and
appeared eager to begin which suited Julie because she was aware that
she had told the other punter to call back and she was beginning to
realise that in the prostitution game, time is money. The more punters serviced; the more money she made.

"Have you forgotten something?" Julie picked up the cane off the bed and flicked it.

"Oh shit! The money!" the man ruffled through his jacket and produced
two one pound notes from his wallet which he dutifully placed on the
bedside table.

He turned to Julie, his long thin cock poking out ahead of him and he
stepped into her.

She let him kiss her which he seemed to appreciate judging by the feel
of his hard cock on her sheers. He'd managed to slip his cock between
her legs and Julie closed then tight so the man could fuck her thighs
while she kissed him. Kissing the man was mechanical: she appreciated
that the man wanted her and found her attractive and sexy but she had no feelings for the man, it was a business transaction.

"You smell nice," the man broke the kiss and grinned at her.

His cock had come free from between her legs and Julie dutifully took it
in hand and began to stroke it. It was warm and pulsing, the skin almost velvet-like. It was not unpleasant and Julie would be lying if she said
she didn't like touching it,

"Not too much luv or I'll come," the man hissed, removing Julie's hand
from his swollen member.

"What then?" Julie asked impatiently.

The man nodded at the cane and Julie picked it up. The man had
positioned himself so that he was bent over, hanging onto the back of
the chair, pushing out his bottom.

Without any ceremony Julie brought the cane down on the man's buttocks
and watched a red welt form across his pale skin.

"That's perfect luv; no harder and no softer please," the man sighed and
Julie cut him six of the best, the man groaning at each stroke.

"Now if you could..." the man pointed at his dripping cock and at first
Julie was confused but then she realised what the man wanted her to do.

She stepped into him and grabbed his cock and began to stroke it, using
his pre-ejaculate to lubricate the shaft. She kissed the man driving her
tongue into his mouth and he put his hands around her waist and pulled
her close and then slipped a hand under her skirt and pawed at her knickers.

The man's cock was throbbing and leaking copious amounts of precum which
Julie gathered in her fingertips and worked into his veiny hard flesh, lubricating the shaft and glans which felt like a spongy mushroom in her fingers. The man was a good kisser and used his tongue well and Julie
couldn't help but respond and she felt her own cock thickening in her
knickers.

The man's fingers stroked the lace trim on her panties and then the
expanse of her bottom, stroking her buttocks through the lustrous fabric
and gently squeezing them. Her cock became a little harder and she felt
a bubble of pre-ejaculate leak from the eye. Although it was pleasant
being kissed, cuddled and stroked by this man, it was not what she was
here to do.

Her job was to fetch him off, preferably as soon as possible and move
onto the next punter. More punters equal more money, she kept telling
herself.

When he tried to put his hand inside her knickers she batted it away and squeezed his testicles as punishment. It was like pressing the start
button on a hydraulic sprayer as the man squealed and ejaculated.

Julie felt the man's cock swell to full tumescence and begin to pulse
and judder in her hand, then she felt a warm, wet rope of semen splash
on her stocking but she continued to wank him furiously, his semen
webbing in her fingers, dripping from her wrist and splashing on her
skirt and thighs. The musky scent of spunk filled the air and the man
held her close, kissing her passionately, fondling her buttocks until he
was spent. Julie was fully erect in her knickers.

end p 2, start p 3

A GLIMPSE OF NYLON STOCKING CH. 02
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She clung to the man returning the kiss, squeezing the remaining issue
from his pulsing member. The feel of his spend in her hand, on her arm
and her legs should have repulsed her but she found it exciting. She had
caused this! Her beauty, her seductiveness, her desirability and her
presence had caused this man to climax and surrender a good part of his
pay to do so. Julie suddenly felt powerful as well as concupiscent.

The aftermath was awkward as they disentangled from each other's embrace
and the man apologised and she told him it was ok, it was what he paid
for. Fortunately it was over quickly and the man began to dress and
Julie went into the bathroom and wiped his semen from her skin and her
vinyl skirt and dabbed at her damp stockings. She saw a gobbet of his
spend on the toe of her shoe and she wiped that off too.

Julie's erection had subsided and she felt a little guilty about it but
decided that now was not the time examine that part of her psyche. She
had made a conscious and willing decision to prostitute herself and she
would have to live with the consequences as well as the rewards.

"I'd like to see you again luv. Same time next week?" the man smiled at her.

"You have my number," Julie returned his smile; her red lips were
freshly lipsticked.

The man leaned in to kiss Julie at the front door and she instinctively
bobbed her head out the way.

The man looked disappointed and hurt and she squeezed his arm and smiled
at him.

"Fresh lipstick luv; don't want to ruin it," she gave him her best smile
and rubbed his arm affectionately and he smiled back at her before he
slipped outside and walked quickly away.

Julie was a quick learner. A repeat customer kindled the possibility of building a regular clientele, which was appealing. She would know what
each individual wanted and she could vet them to make sure that they
were trustworthy, clean and discreet.

The red phone rang as soon as she had closed the door.

The man sounded impatient.

"You're the tranny brass promising kisses, cuddles and hand relief? Is
that picture really you? You said there may be something extra if I was amenable to negotiation; what exactly is that?" the man might be eager
and anxious but he had a clipped upper-class accent and Julie felt like
it would be nice to be with someone with a little class for a change.

"You'll have to find out what the something extra is when you get here
but only if you're more presentable than my usual clientele," Julie used
her best coquettish voice.

"You're a cheeky little brass aren't you? Not many prossies vet their
customers by how presentable they are?" the man sounded cocky.

"There aren't that many tranny prostitutes look as good as me," Julie
said brazenly; realising that she had just called herself a prostitute
for the first time.

Flirting with the john was turning her on a little.

"Twelve, Black Prince Road, Lambeth," Julie whispered seductively and
hung up.

She had become a little flustered and aroused bantering with the man
with the dreamy voice. She debated whether or not to change her
stockings and decided, what was the point? It was consequential to the
services she was offering that she was going to get spunked on.

She poured herself another drink and lit a cigarette and the doorbell
chimed.

"Blimey; he must have been around the corner," Julie muttered to herself
as she hurried to the door.

She peeped through the keyhole but the man had his back to the door,
studying the street. He was wearing what appeared to be a cashmere
overcoat and his dark-brown hair was collar-length and expensively coiffed.

Julie opened the door and the man turned her way and Julie gasped but
tried her best to hide her excitement caused by the man's extreme good
looks.

The man smiled at Julie and she felt herself melt a little. In all of
her years as a transvestite she hadn't really been that interested in
men. Plenty had come onto her but few had succeeded but this man was a
dish and when he brazenly pulled her into his arms and began to kiss her
she surrendered. He took off his overcoat and hung it on the back of the
door and took Julie in his arms.

"You're more gorgeous in real life than you are in that picture," the
man smiled at her and lowered his face.

He was an expert kisser. At first he kissed her closed mouth, his lips
just brushing hers. He held her lightly, their bodies not quite
touching. He would break the kiss intermittently and gaze into her
emerald eyes and tell her how beautiful she was and then start kissing
her all over again.

He pressed his lips a little harder and when Julie pressed back he
pulled her tighter into his embrace, their bodies just touching. He
kissed her for an age and then he opened his lips slightly and Julie
opened hers. His breath was sweet, his aftershave very masculine and she
could feel the strength in his arms. It was Julie who brought tongue
into play, at first just slipping the tip of her tongue into the man's
mouth.

They kissed softly like that and slowly they eased their tongues deeper
into each other's mouths and the man pulled her tightly against him and
rested one hand on her buttocks. Julie gasped; she could feel the heft
of the man's growing erection against her belly but the man wasn't being assertive or aggressive; he still held her lightly. She was feeling
heady and it wasn't the gin. This man wasn't just using her for his
pleasure, although undoubtedly he would, that was what he was here for ultimately, but at the moment he was seducing her, and she liked it.

It was Julie who pressed her ardour. She wrapped herself around his body
like a cat; she interlaced her fingers behind his neck and hooked a leg
around his and pressed her body against him and rubbed a little. The
smell and feel of him made Julie feel so feminine and also aroused her.
The presence of the hard bar of his cock against her body caused her to
feel both meek and powerful; after all it was she who had produced the prodigious lump in his trousers.

The man responded and held her tight, his hand squeezed her buttocks and
he drove his tongue into her mouth. They kissed and ground against each
other as the man eased Julie towards the couch. When she felt the edge
of the couch on the back of her knees the man eased her down onto it.

"Let's go up to my workroom," Julie gasped.

"We'll lose the moment," the man whispered, whipping off his jacket.

He fell on her and smothered Julie with his kisses. She felt a little trepidatious lying under him like this, feeling his pulsing manhood
pressing into her while he kissed her fervently. She wanted him to stop
but she didn't want him to stop.

The man was handsome, young and well-to-do; a far cry from her other
punters. His hand was under her skirt doing things to her legs that felt
like a thousand butterflies had escaped and were fluttering their wings
on her silken-hosed thighs. When he guided her hand to his crotch she
didn't resist, in fact she fumbled with his flies and eventually freed
his prodigious erection. The smooth girth of it exuded power and
fertility. I was steely hard but velvety to touch and globules of precum dripped from the eye.

When the man began to stroke Julie's cock through her knickers at first
she struggled but the man was on top of her, kissing her, telling her
how beautifully feminine she was and she had his penis in her hand and
she loved the feel of it and she couldn't stop manipulating it and she
wanted him to manipulate hers and he did.

He grasped the shaft of her penis through her knickers and began to
slowly stroke it and Julie mewled and shuddered under him. Their kisses
became more passionate and insistent. The man's fingers found her
buttocks and his middle finger circled her sphincter and Julie became a
little scared.

The man circled her sphincter, gently massaging her puckered bud and
Julie wriggled under him. He held her by her cock and pressed his face
to hers, kissing her deeply as he slowly pushed his finger inside her anus.

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" Julie squealed.

"You promised me something extra if I was presentable and amenable to negotiation. I believe I'm both," the man smiled down at her.

He still held Julie by her knicker-covered penis with his finger was
still buried in her bum. To be fair, she hadn't let go of his cock
either and she lazily flicked her thumb over the eye and rubbed a bubble
of precum into his fraenulum.

"Well not that! I don't so that!" Julie said insistently.

"What then?" the man smiled.

He was teasing her and with his boyish good looks he knew he could get
away with it.

"This," Julie put her mouth on his and sucked on his lips and waggled
her tongue in his mouth and then broke the kiss.

"Only down there," Julie nodded to his nether regions.

"Down there?" the man grinned salaciously.

Julie nodded and smiled.

With sudden agility the man extracted his finger from Julie's bum, let
go of her cock and flipped himself around so that his cock was level
with her face. He began to kiss her thighs and Julie sighed and looked
up at the cock dangling inches from face like the sword of Damocles.
When the man licked her cock through her satin panties Julie shivered
with delight and took the man's cock into her mouth and began to suckle it.

She locked her lips around the base of the shaft and traced the veins
with her tongue, flicking it over his frenulum and across his bloated
glans. The sweet-salty taste of pre-ejaculate permeated her mouth and
she groaned around the girth of his cock as the man freed her penis from
her knickers and reciprocated.

He sucked Julie's cock and worked his tongue on the sensitive glans.
Julie had never felt anything like it before and she instinctively
reciprocated and began to slaver at the man's engorged penis. She held
the base between her fingers and sucked and licked the proud member, her
other hand found his scrotum and gently squeezed and stroked his
testicles. She felt his cock judder and a continuous stream of precum
dribbled from his cock which Julie dutifully tasted and swallowed.

She could sense the man's urgency. He was sucking on her cock and
stroking her thighs and she had never felt anything so downright lewd
and delightful. She drummed her heels on the cushions indicating that
she was close to extremis but the man didn't stop.

He engulfed her whole phallus and worked his tongue on the head whilst
his lips slipped up and down the shaft. Julie took as much of the man's
cock into her mouth as she could and suckled on it as her fingers softly stroked and gently squeezed his scrotum and she was rewarded.

Her mouth was suddenly flooded with his musky milt. She could feel his
cock pulsing as it evacuated the contents of his scrotum into her mouth.
She greedily swallowed the sweet, briny mucous and squeezed his scrotum
to encourage him to give her more. All of this was intensifying the
enormous orgasm that was raging through her body. The man was slavering
on her cock and she was ejaculating into his mouth while his fingers
caressed her stocking-sheathed thighs and her satiny knickered scrotum.

The man mauled Julie through her diaphanous garments, the sensation,
combined with his mouth caressing her cock and his tongue licking her
glans, was overpowering. Julie bucked and writhed under the man and he
thrust his cock in and out of Julie's mouth.

They sucked and slavered on each other's organs until they were both
spent when the man surprised Julie by leaping off her and then leaping
on top of her. He kissed her and she could taste her sperm on his mouth
and knew that he tasted his on hers. His semi-erect cock was pressing on
her left thigh and felt nice and comforting. He stroked her cheek
tenderly and mewed as he kissed her softly but eagerly.

She wrapped her arms around him, comforted by his embrace in the
afterglow of their orgasms.

"Well that was surprising," Julie finally said.

The man put a finger on her lips to silence her.

They cuddled like that and Julie eventually fell asleep in the safety of
his arms.

Julie was awoken by the shrill ringing of the red telephone and she
immediately realised that the man was gone and Julie began to panic but
she kept herself under control. She got shakily to her feet and tottered
over the phone.

"Hello? Is this TV Julie? I know it's late but I just want a kiss and
cuddle and a wank. I won't be any longer than thirty minutes I promise,"
the man sounded keen and anxious.

Julie looked down at the crystal bowl that sat beside the telephone
where she kept her keys and loose change. There was a five pound note in
there.

She smiled to herself. The man had indeed been presentable and amenable
to negotiation.

"Yes luv; I can give you a quick handjob," Julie said into the receiver, getting back to the matter in hand.

Business was business after all.

Donald Cooper

After his tryst with Gillian Snodgrass, Donald took heed of what she had
said to him. He needed to move on and stop wondering aimlessly through
his life. His fascination with Julian Clifford's stocking-sheathed calf
needed to cease as did his obsession with tart cards and whoever this TV
Julie woman was. These tawdry lower-class types had no place in the life
of a well-to-do barrister at one of the country's most prestigious law
firms.

Donald went home and gathered up the lingerie and hosiery that Deirdre
had left behind and put them in drawer in what had been her side of the
walk-in robe. He found the tart card and tore it into pieces and then he
called Sir Stanley Price and told him that he would be reporting for
work tomorrow as usual and then he called his secretary and the
associate and told them to have his case files ready first thing.

Donald was ready to put the failure of his marriage and the foolishness infatuation with bookshop owners and street tarts aside and get his life
in order.

Donald went back to work but he no longer took the Bakerloo Line
eight-fifty -five commuter train; he took an earlier train. He
concentrated on his caseload and dallied with a few of the secretaries
but didn't actually shag them. They were below his station with the
single exception of Ms Gillian Snodgrass who remained icily aloof as far
as any physicality might be concerned but she told him a number of times
that it was good to see him back at work and getting his house in order.

He started seeing a divorcee, one Vivian Huxtable who, like Deirdre, was
a very attractive woman with great legs and big breasts and a rather
wide undercarriage. She liked to wear skirt-suits, heels and makeup and
the only time he ever saw her sans hosiery was when she was dressed for
tennis.

The first time they slept together Vivian had worn stockings and sexy
black see-through panties and had kept on her high heels during the sex.
Vivian had once been a gal-pal of Deirdre's and Donald wondered if
Deirdre had told Vivian about his weakness for nylons, heels and lingerie.

Julie Clifford

Julie Clifford was very much in command of Julian's psyche and Julian
was only ever visible travelling to and from work and at the bookshop
and even then he was wearing sheer tights and knickers under his suit.
At all other times Julian presented as Julie, having become more
confident passing as a woman.

When Julian's neighbour Mrs Granger had made a passing comment to Julian
as he walked to North Lambeth tube station about the woman who had
similar features to him seen entering and leaving the house, Julian had
replied that his twin sister was staying with him. When the nosy
neighbour had pressed on and asked about the ebb and flow of men
visiting Julian's house in the evenings Julian had curtly told the
neighbour to tend to her own business.

Business was booming with Julie sometimes seeing as many as five clients
in a single night. In 1963 the average wage in the United Kingdom was
around £20 per week for the working classes and Julie was making between
£10 and £15 per night, except for Friday which was her night off to go
to the Elephant and Castle. According to her calculations the bookshop
should be back in the black in few months and she would be more than comfortable. She reminded herself that she was only prostituting herself
in order to rid herself of debt and that she would stop as soon as she
was debt free.

Wouldn't she?

Julie was able to get a transvestite friend of hers named Bella alone in
the snug of the 'Trunk and Brick' for a confidential tête-à-tête. She
knew that Bella was a 'working girl'. Without telling Bella anything
about the bookshop she explained that she was working as a prostitute
out of her own home during the evenings and making a decent income at it.

"You've got it made luv. Most of the trannies who sell their arses have
to do so on the street and they're shagging in back alleys for ten bob a
go, sometimes less. Some of the girls have private rooms but they have
to pay pimps or landlords which eats up the profit. There aren't many
girls like us can work from home," Bella explained when Julie had bought
a second round of gin and tonics.

Julie handed Bella one of her tart cards and Bella studied it.

"Whoever made this did a good job but are you really restricting
yourself to hand relief?" Bella asked.

"If I like them and they're clean I might offer them fellatio for a bit
more," Julie blushed when she said it.

"You're missing out on the big money luv," Bella gulped down her drink
and nodded to the publican for a refill.

"You earn real money on your back," Bella grinned.

"I'm not doing that!" Julie balked.

"Look around the pub. A good number of the men in here tonight are
tranny chasers. Most of them are going to be disappointed. A lot of the
girls are like you used to be; platonic," Bella's drink arrived and she
took a sip.

"Some of them like Sandra over there will drop their drawers in the back
alley for nothing and go home and change into their men's clothing in
the garden shed and snuggled up to their wives," Bella took one of
Julie's Consulate's and lit it.

"Then there's the likes of me and Vera, and now you, who realise the
potential of what we are. Unaccepted by society but lusted after by a
certain type of men who are willing to pay for our company but would be mortified if anyone found out," Bella tapped ash into the ashtray with a
long, manicured, red-painted fingernail.

"If the Old Bill caught a punter copulating with a woman brass in a
public place or brothel, the punter would be embarrassed but he would
pay the fine and move on with his life. If he was caught shagging a
tranny he would be mortified and if his friends and family found out
there would be hell to pay. You..." Bella pointed her red dagger-like fingernail at Julie... "have the perfect business model."

"So start shagging your punters and charge them a fiver for it. You're
worth it," Bella finished her drink and lifted herself off the barstool
and went over to join Sandra and Vera.

There was no way that Julie was going to start 'shagging her punters'!
The very thought of it repulsed her.

Then she recalled the handsome young man who had stroked her
knicker-covered penis whilst his finger was buried in her bum. She'd
liked it but she would never tell anyone that. It was a one-off event
over which she'd had little control.

No! There was no way that Julie Clifford was going to start letting
punters 'boff her up the chuff' as some of her transvestite
acquaintances crudely called it.

To be continued...

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