Dudley Wink coasted the Post Office van to a halt outside Holly Tree Cottage in Smallfield Lane. The cottage was also known as 41 Smallfield Lane, which was just as well. There were six Holly Tree Cottages in and around the village of Lippinston, not that Dudley would deliver any of Mrs Billingsgate’s mail to any of the others. Having her sign for a package was the highlight of his week. Natasha Billingsgate was an absolute cracker and his hungry little eyes were free to roam over her delicious body as she concentrated on signing. The trick was to put the proof of delivery list on the package and lower it, just as she was about to sign. He’d been treated to more than a glimpse of her cleavage and delectable breasts by using this ploy, and he could say, with all the authority of a self-appointed expert, that her tits were the best on his round.
Dudley Wink was in his early forties, plump and outwardly jolly. His wife, Linda, was a well-respected teacher at Hamsworth High School and in her spare time, District Administrator for the Girl Guides. Dudley was an active member of the Hamsworth Photographic Club and well known for his wildlife pictures. His photographs of a fox and cubs at play were published in the local paper to much acclaim. The Winks were pillars of local society. He took a sheaf of letters, held together with the ubiquitous red elastic band from the tray of sorted mail on the passenger seat. Flicking through the bills and circulars, stopping at a hand written letter addressed to Natasha Billingsgate. He pulled the letter free from the restraining elastic and carefully, almost lovingly, placed it on a small shelf under the steering wheel. Then he reached behind the passenger seat where the package to be signed for was handily placed, together with the ‘proof of delivery’ list. With everything in hand and a pen at the ready in the top pocket of his blue, short sleeved shirt, he set off down the path towards the back of the cottage, hoping fervently that Mrs and not Mr Billingsgate would come to the door.
When the doorbell rang, Barrie, in Natasha’s body, was in the utility room, looking for a cleaning cloth in the cupboard under the butlers’ sink. He had been diverted when leaning down by the way her breasts gently swayed and was holding onto the edge of the sink, swinging them from side to side, hoping to make them contra rotate. It was a difficult business. He could swing them together, but as soon as he tried to get one to go the other way, the little beauties collided and he had to start again. The doorbell rang for the second time. Natasha was obviously not going to come down, probably still in the shower. He looked around for something to cover his female nakedness. That pervert of a postman was not going to catch even a glimpse of Natasha’s cleavage. He selected her favourite apron, with cookery terms printed all over it, from the back of the door and was amazed at how easily he tied the strings in a bow behind her back and how nimble her fingers felt. He held her hands out to look at them. They were slender, smooth and beautifully manicured; artists’ hands, unlike his own, which were strong and square, positively artisan, right down to the nails and fingertips. As he moved her hands he realised that any exaggerated movement would leave her breasts half exposed either side of the narrow apron top. With a pervert like Dudley Wink at the door, that would never do. The doorbell rang for the third time as he rummaged through a basket of items waiting to be washed and found a bath towel. How was it Natasha fixed her towel after a shower? He wrapped it around the upper half of her body and tucked one end over the other, under her left armpit. At the first attempt the towel dropped to the floor. On the second it felt anything but secure. On the third it worked. The bell rang again. He tested the towel with a light tug and walked though the kitchen to the backdoor.
A disappointed Dudley Wink was filling in a ‘missed delivery card’ when the door opened. He looked up to see Natasha Billingsgate wrapped in a bath towel and in a split second, took in her bare shoulders and legs, where the towel ended half way down her thighs, before focussing on her face.
'Good morning Mrs Billingsgate, package to sign for.' He offered his pen, indicating where she should sign. As he lowered the package and delivery note he silently prayed. 'Please, please let the towel fall off.' She gave him a hard look, as if she knew what he was thinking, snatched the pen, scribbled a signature, grabbed the package and slammed the door. A bemused postman was left on the step, squinting at a signature, which he eventually deciphered as Barrie Billingsgate.
Barrie was angry. He had his suspicions – no, he knew Dudley Wink was a pervert. He had seen the way he looked at Natasha, but she would not hear a word against him. Christ, anyone could tell that his little beady eyes were willing the towel to fall off. He gave it a sharp tug, but it held firm. He pulled out the tucked in end and was about to put the towel back in the washing basket, when it occurred to him that it would do to mop the bathroom floor. His male logic told him the towel had to be washed anyway. So, with Natasha’s package under one arm, the towel under the other and a very good idea of what he next wanted to do in her body, he ran it lightly up the stairs.
Natasha was still giving his body a good lathering in the shower as he entered the bathroom. He dropped the towel over the wet area on the floor, crept over to the shower and slowly opened the door. His broad back was towards the door and his right shoulder was moving rhythmically. Was Natasha experiencing her first male masturbation?
'Are you enjoying that, Tash?'
His body turned quickly towards him and he was disappointed to see a flaccid member covered in lather. Undeterred he slid Natasha’s slim body into the shower.
'What are you doing in here, Barrie?'
On seeing her own body enter the shower Natasha felt Barrie’s penis, which had reduced to what she considered a manageable size, twitch and begin to unfurl like a giant tortoise, cautiously poking its head out from under its shell. She leant his body back, allowing the main thrust of the shower to rinse off the lather.
'Go away. You can have a shower in a minute. I’ve almost finished.'
Her face smiled sweetly at her and she heard her own voice say, 'Honey, we haven’t even started.' Natasha was horrified to see her head bob down towards the fast swelling penis and to feel her own tongue run gently around the head. She tried to pull away but was hampered by the shower controls and Barrie’s hold on his own testicles with her right hand. He squeezed enough for her to realise that any sudden movement would cause a great deal of pain. Anyway, she had no control over the blasted thing, which was now fully erect and striving to gain entry into her own succulent mouth.
'Barrie! What the hell do you think you are doing?'
Barrie stopped and looked up with a sly grin. How could he make her face look so depraved? Surely she never looked like that? 'It’s every guy’s fantasy to give himself a blow job.'
'Not with my mouth you don’t. You know very well I’m not into blow jobs.'
'You are now.' With that simple statement, Barrie turned his attention to the end of his own penis. Natasha felt her sharp teeth nibbling delicately at the tip. She wanted to pull away. She was willing herself to pull away, but the penis seemed to have other ideas; ideas she could not deny. As if on autopilot, Barrie’s hips, the hips she thought she could control, began to thrust forward. It was an animal reaction and there was nothing she could do to stop as her own soft mouth enveloped the bulbous head of the throbbing penis. Barrie ran her tongue teasingly around the sensitive rim; then used her teeth to rake playfully along the shaft as it moved towards the back of her throat. Natasha hated her own body for what it was doing and she hated herself for not being able to prevent the body she was in from receiving such gratification. But the need to reach fulfilment conquered all and she found herself thrusting Barrie’s penis into her own mouth with total abandon. Spasms of unbelievable pleasure were coursing through the whole length of the organ. The ejaculation came as a complete surprise. An explosion, which sent the semen bursting through the tip of the penis. She heard Barrie screaming – yes – yes – yes! Only realising she was responsible for the screams as a second, then a third spurt of semen followed the first. The pleasure was intense, and then – nothing. It was all over and the urgency – the pleasure – was replaced by a feeling of loss. She tried to pull his penis from her mouth, but Barrie was hanging on to it, wrapping her lips tightly around the head. Then she felt her tongue licking and from being an organ of pleasure only seconds before, it was now a weapon of torture, rasping over the sensitive skin with all the roughness of a cat’s tongue. It was more than she could bear. She grabbed a hand full of hair and pulled her mouth away and heard herself cry out in pain.
'Ouch! What did you do that for?'
'Because you are going too far.'
'And, what’s too far?' This was said with a knowing smile and Natasha knew very well what he meant.
'You didn’t swallow?'
All innocence, her face smiled up at her. 'Every last drop.'
'But we don’t swallow.'
She heard herself laugh again. It was a pleasant, tinkling, bell like sound. 'We didn’t do blow jobs until a couple of minutes ago.'
The Post Office van screeched to a halt outside Church Farmhouse in a billowing cloud of dust, which hardly had time to settle before the front door opened. Framed by Doric style pillars, the grandness of the door was totally out of keeping with a house that had originally been three farm workers’ cottages. Hugh Portland, who farmed Church Farm and the neighbouring Manor Farm, walked down the three shallow stone steps and across the yard to take a bundle of letters from Dudley Wink.
'You’re in a hurry this morning, Dudley. Hope it’s not more bills, I could do with some cheques.'
'Can’t guarantee anything, Hugh,' said Dudley with a laugh. 'Thought I might grab a couple of minutes in the copse. See if I can catch those foxes on camera again, if that’s alright with you?'
'Be my guest, Dudley. Loved your last batch of pictures in the Bugle. Any chance of having a set?'
'Only too pleased to oblige. I can put them in pine frames if you’d like.'
Hugh Portland voiced his suspicion. 'Har – and how much will that set me back?'
'Not a penny, Hugh. Those fox pictures have been good for me and it’s all thanks to you for letting me know they were there.'
'You’re welcome, Dudley.'
Dudley drove though the farmyard and up the track towards the copse, as Hugh Portland rifled through the letters and found one from the Rural Payments Agency. He ripped it open to find a long overdue cheque. After confirming the amount was correct, he watched the red post van as it disappeared into the copse. Good bloke Dudley Wink, salt of the earth.
In Holly Tree Cottage, Natasha and Barrie were having their first real argument since changing bodies. Barrie had followed Natasha out of the shower and was desperate for a ‘good seeing to’ whilst in Natasha’s body. Natasha on the other hand was anxious to discuss how they were going to play out the day in their exchanged roles. She loved Barrie. When they married she knew he had a strong libido and to be honest, she enjoyed sex with him very much. But, more and more that’s what it seemed to him – just sex. She hated it when he referred to their lovemaking as ‘giving her a good seeing to’. She wanted romance, but for a few months now, had the feeling he was seeing someone else. She had told no one, other than her mother and taken her advice – Don’t try to find out. If he has and you know he has, it will destroy your marriage. Yet it still played on her mind and as a result, she found herself wanting less sex. Now he was romping around in the nude, showing off – in her body.
In the copse, Dudley Wink took only a cursory interest in the fox den. The foxes could wait; he had another, more pressing reason for visiting the copse. He took out his latest camera acquisition, and exchanged the wide-angle lens for a powerful telescopic. This would be the first time he’d used it and he was hoping for great things. He clipped the camera skilfully onto the shoe and carefully positioned the tripod behind a cluster of hazel saplings, at the edge of the copse. He eased the black bodied lens, deliberately chosen to avoid detection, through the leaves. Lurking well back in the shadows, using the LCD monitor as his viewfinder, he panned the camera towards the village, found Holly Tree Cottage and zoomed in tight on the bedroom window. A blurred figure came into view, he pressed the shutter button gently; the camera automatically set the focus and, bingo! Natasha Billingsgate was there in all her naked glory. Taking great care not to disturb the camera he completed the shutter movement with a satisfying click and took more shots in rapid succession in case she moved away, but she was not going anywhere. It was almost as if she knew he was watching and was determined to give him a good show, first, by stretching her right arm high above her head and cupping her left breast in her left hand, then, by standing with legs apart and hands on hips. Please god, don’t give me camera shake. He clicked away and gasped when she turned side on and slid her hand down over her stomach and appeared to start playing with herself. He pushed up slightly on the panning arm and tried to zoom in closer. Tight in on a tight pussy. He chuckled to himself and licked his lips in anticipation. Unfortunately, the zoom was already at its limit. Never mind, with the crisp, high definition image this camera promised, he would be able to zoom in to where he wanted later. Oh no! Disaster! She was turning away from the window. No – wait – she was still in frame – she was walking towards her husband who was on the bed. Had he hit the jackpot, or had he hit the jackpot? He turned the shooting mode dial to ‘Movie’ and awaited developments.
Barrie was getting impatient. He had woken-up in Natasha’s body. Sure he panicked, but who wouldn’t? Then he quickly accepted the situation, but so far he’d given much more than he’d received. He gave a blowjob to end all blowjobs, which Natasha, in his body, obviously enjoyed. Christ, she’d almost pulled his head off when he finished! She would have to learn to control his strength, but where did that leave him? Yeah, okay, he’d gone in for a little female masturbation, but as long as he stayed in this body he could do that at anytime. What he had not experienced was how she felt when he gave her a good seeing to, and he wanted that – now. She was on the bed, propped up on pillows, with a manly mug of tea. Primly, she had wrapped his green silk dressing gown tightly around his body and between sips was trying to explain what his role would be at DebTash. He turned away and looked out to the copse and the patchwork of fields beyond. You had to hand it to Natasha; she knew what she was doing when she picked Holly Tree Cottage. The view from this window was really something – not another house in sight. He posed and wriggled her body seductively. Natasha had a glorious backside and her rear view always stirred his old boy into action. He turned so she would be able to see her own body in profile, with those pert breasts of hers jutting upwards. A glance at the dressing gown told him the posing was having an effect. He moved her hand down over her the gentle curve of her stomach and massaged her labia. Hmmm, that felt good.
'For heavens sake, Barrie. Stop that and listen to me.'
'I’ll listen after you’ve given me a good seeing to.' He sauntered seductively to the bed, took the mug of tea and placed it on the bedside table before straddling his own body. He smiled to himself as Natasha’s beautiful hands, following his bidding, deftly untied the green and white silk cord and parted the dressing gown to reveal his ‘old boy’ in all its glory.
'Barrie, I’m not ready for this.'
'Believe me – you are.' Hauling his ’old boy’ upright with Natasha’s beautiful hands, he brushed the tip against Natasha’s clitoris. They both squirmed with pleasure. Barrie was unable to keep the laugh out of Natasha’s voice. 'Ready then?'
'Has anyone ever told you that you are depraved?'
'First time – since I’ve been in your body. So, are you ready?'
Natasha wanted to say no, but once again, Barrie’s penis had other ideas. She groaned, it was proving impossible to control that thing. 'Okay, let’s get it over with, but make it quick.'
'That’s down to you my love, unless of course you want me to be on top?' Not waiting for an answer, he squatted down heavily. 'Ouch! That hurt.'
'You men are all the same, you haven’t got a clue.' His own face was smiling at him. Natasha was enjoying his discomfort.
'You have to be careful with that thing. It needs to be eased in and I should point out that you were way off target.'
Natasha suddenly felt the power of Barrie’s penis. She had truly hated herself in the shower, when she could not stop forcing it into her own mouth, but now she was coming to terms with it. Fully erect, it really did seem to have a mind of its own and right now it was telling her to take the dominant position. She had not wanted to have sex with her own body this morning, she did not want to give Barrie the pleasure, but now this thing between her legs was compelling her to act differently. She placed Barrie’s strong hands on her waist, lifted her body in one swift movement and rolled over to finish on top. She was amazed at the strength at her command, it made everything so easy. Natasha was generous by nature and was tempted to show Barrie how he should really use his penis to give her pleasure, but, she was in a hurry. There was a great deal for them to discuss, so she would do unto him as he so often did unto her. In other words provide a ‘good seeing to’ which would see his body ejaculate at great speed, leaving hers completely unfulfilled.
Barrie was amazed at the ease with which they changed places. He felt his strong hands slide under Natasha’s buttocks and lift the lips of her vagina up to meet his ‘old boy‘. Natasha was making a pretty good job of dealing with his body. He felt the head moving in a slow circular motion just inside the vagina. Natasha was teasing him. He wrapped Natasha’s slender legs around his own body and arched her back to pull his cock in.
'Fuck me Tash. Give me a really good seeing to, I want it all.'
Natasha gave no answer only a grunt of satisfaction as she carried on the slow circular motion which was beginning to drive Barrie wild, especially when she penetrated just far enough for the tip to rub against a very sensitive spot just inside the vagina. Was this the legendary G spot? She could leave it there as long as she liked! He was in her body experiencing immense pleasure, when, without warning, Natasha pushed hard and he heard his own voice shouting, 'I’m coming! I’m coming!' Following three to four frantic thrusts, he felt the wet warmth of the ejaculation; then his body stopped moving.
'Don’t stop! Don’t stop!'
'Sorry Barrie, but that’s it. Generally speaking, that’s how your ‘good seeing to’ leaves me.'
Barrie desperately dug Natasha’s heels into his own backside in an attempt to spur her into action, but to no avail. He could feel the erection wilting and after a minute of frantic but fruitless jerking it was a relief when Natasha rolled off and he lost the crushing weight of his own body. He watched as she walked his body to the bathroom.
'Come on Barrie, a quick shower then we have a lot to discuss.'
'Such as what?' The tone was sharp and waspish. He was more than a little pissed off at not reaching a climax. What if they got together in the bathroom and somehow or other changed back? Then he would never know what Natasha felt when she had a penetrative orgasm. He wondered if she used anything to reach a climax when she’d been left high and dry, so to speak. Perhaps she used the back brush in the shower? It had a ribbed handle and he’d often wondered if it had ever been used for that purpose. In the bathroom, Natasha was handholding the shower rose to rinse off the Jo Malone Gel Douche she had lathered over Barrie’s testicles and penis. She adored the amber and lavender fragrance, which lingered on her skin for hours, but perhaps it was not the right thing to use whilst in Barrie’s body. She would remember to use his Lacoste Body-Wash in future. As she stepped out of the shower she called to him. 'We’re presenting our lingerie range to the buyer of ‘Naughty but Nice’ at eleven o’clock. I must brief you on what to do.'
'I thought Debbie did that sort of thing?'
'She does, but I – that is to say you – will be doing the modelling.’
Barrie perked up at the thought of parading around in sexy underwear. It was Natasha’s work as well as her fantastic looks and figure that attracted him to her in the first place. She was a partner in DebTash, an exclusive corset and lingerie business, which she ran with Debbie, a friend from Art College.
'How many pieces will I have to model?'
'Six. I’ll go through them with you. It’s a mixture of designs by Debbie and me. Mine are, fine lace underwear, a basque and a lovely cream silk chemise, which has been made to my design by one of the out-workers we will use if we get a large order. Oh, and a set of French style underwear, which I would rather not show.'
'Why not?'
'Because I think they will be better as an expensive couture item for our private customers.'
Barrie swung Natasha’s beautiful legs over the side of the bed and sashayed into the bathroom. Natasha was shaving, taking great care as she wielded the razor under his chin. She looked anxiously at her own body as he took up what he considered to be a model pose, with one knee forward, left hand on hip and right held high, wrist bent forward.
'Barrie! For heaven’s sake, please don’t ham it up. This is a very serious presentation. It could be worth a small fortune to us.'
Barrie held Natasha’s hands out in a gesture of surrender. 'Okay, okay, I promise. I’ll do whatever you say.'
'That’s better. Well the first thing to remember is you are in my body, so you use the things I use. I have made the mistake of using my shower gel instead of yours.'
Barrie lent forward and sniffed at his own skin. 'Nice. I wouldn’t get too close to Duggie if I was you.'
His face frowned back at him. Natasha quite liked Duggie Lummox, the boss of Travel Plan. He didn’t help himself with his appearance, but since his wife died, he had immersed himself in running the company and didn‘t seem to care. There had been whispers about him propositioning young women at the Rugby Club, where he was Chairman, but she did not believe it. He had always been kind and never made a pass at her. She wondered what Barrie meant. 'He’s not gay, is he?'
'No, just joking. Duggie’s okay, but you never know who might get turned on by that fragrance.'
'As long as it’s not Sir Ken Allerby.' She shuddered at the thought. 'I’ll splash on plenty of your Lacoste and hope that’ll do the trick. Anyway, remember to use my shower gel and shampoo. I’ll rustle up some breakfast.’
Barrie could hardly wait to get in the shower cubicle. The handle of the back brush slipped easily into Natasha’s vagina, which was well lubricated by his semen. The ribbed handle felt pleasant as he moved it gently in and out against the swollen labia, but the angle was wrong and the brush rubbed her thighs. He turned it the other way and the kink in the handle directed it towards what he had assumed was Natasha’s G spot. He was tempted to see how far he could push the handle in, but it felt good where it was. He settled into a fast rhythm, comparable to the usual speed of his thrusting and caressed Natasha’s clitoris with the fingers of her other hand. It was not long however before he realised that Natasha’s body preferred the waltz to the quick step. He slowed the penetrative thrusts of the ribbed handle to the point where every single movement provided unbelievable pleasure. He felt the first tingling of orgasm and the sensation slowly built to a point where it became almost unbearable. Then the orgasm peaked to a fantastic moment of release, yet even then, when it would be all over for him, the tingling sensation of a pending orgasm continued. He was sure it would not take much to come again, but conscious of time, he reluctantly withdrew the improvised instrument of pleasure and lathered her gorgeous body in Jo Malone shower gel.
When Barrie arrived in the kitchen, Natasha commented on the blush, which still lingered on her cheeks, shoulders and breasts. Barrie passed it off by saying he preferred a hot shower, which obviously did not agree with her tender skin.
Over toast and coffee, they discussed what they needed to do for the day. Natasha briefed Barrie on his duties for the sales presentation. He would have to dress himself – Debbie would not expect to help. Fortunately, her make-up was always minimal. She would show him how to apply a little lip-gloss and how to run a comb through her long hair, which would then pretty well look after itself for the rest of the day. Her nails had been varnished the previous evening and as she used a natural shade, nothing would need to be done about that, probably for a couple of days. The panties and bra she had chosen for the day would be right for modelling the slips, basques and camisoles, so he would only need to change to the French style underwear for the final presentation. He was not to attempt to do any of her needlework or welding. If the situation remained as it was for longer than a few days, he would be able to get by with a bit of design work, which she would do for him in the evenings.
Natasha had obviously given their situation more thought than Barrie, who had been more obsessed with exploring her sexuality than thinking through the complexities of their situation. Natasha had a rough idea of Barrie’s duties at Travel Plan, but was there anything specific he should tell her? Barrie’s brain was racing, trying to cover all angles. He could hardly tell her he’d been giving Samantha, one of his key telesales girls, an occasional seeing to. She worked in Travel Plan Dynamic, a new division of the company, which was proving very profitable. He’d often referred to having lunch with Sam, but failed to mention she was female and gorgeous. With the Board Meeting taking up most of the day, there would be no reason for her to visit telesales, so he should be safe there – at least until tomorrow. Of course, there was always Penny Betts. Penny could cause trouble, but not intentionally. Penny was one of his old girl friends. Their relationship had run its course and they had split amicably; consequently they were still good friends. Penny was PA to Duggie Lummox and could be very helpful. Trouble was, if she couldn’t get a regular shag, she would ask him to help out – just for old time’s sake. Other than those two, there was nothing much to worry about; apart from that classy cleaner, what was her name? Lucy or Lucinda something – but that was a one off. The Board Meeting should not present any problems. He was not expected to make a formal presentation, so she could just go with the flow. There were nine directors on the board, including the company secretary. She had met most of them at sometime or other, but that was not good enough for Natasha, she wanted more detail.
'Go through them for me. How do you address them, by their first names? Do they have nicknames?'
'Ah, good point. The meeting’s are pretty laid back although the chairman, John Toddleigh does insist on being addressed as ‘Mr Chairman’ once the meeting is in progress, other than that it’s John. Duggie Lummox, is, of course. Duggie.'
Natasha interrupted his flow. 'I’ve never met John Toddleigh, what does he look like?'
'He’s a chubby little man with a pink face and a shock of white hair. You can’t mistake him.'
Natasha nodded. 'Okay, so who’s next?'
'Sir Kenneth Allerby is Sir Ken. You’ve met him. A loud Yorkshire man who made his money in scrap metal.'
Natasha shuddered. Sir Ken had made an improper suggestion at the Travel Plan Christmas Party. 'Yes, I remember Sir Ken – only too well.'
Barrie failed to pick up on the vibe. He continued through the list of board members.
'I don’t think you’ve met Lady Macdonald. She’ll be wearing a Macdonald tartan skirt and a white long sleeved blouse. Wears the same outfit, summer or winter. Looks quite severe, but a sweetie and very supportive. She doesn’t stand on ceremony and prefers to be called Sophie. Phillip Stammers, the company secretary is Phil. That leaves the executive directors. Basil Main, the financial director, known to all as Bas. Pauline Sykes, personnel director. She’s really genuine and I’ve never heard of her referred to as anything other than Pauline. Finally, there’s the one you really have to watch, Sally Barnard the marketing director. She can be deadly and won’t miss any opportunity to stab me – you – in the back. Basically she’s very ambitious and wants to run sales and marketing as a step to running the whole company. Trouble is, her ambition far exceeds her ability, but I think Duggie knows that and keeps her in check.'
'So is she Sal or Sally?'
'Some will call her Sal – I call her Sally. The meeting starts at eleven and we usually work through until all issues have been covered. Sometimes we have a buffet lunch, which is brought into the boardroom at one, but if John Toddleigh considers we can conclude business before two, he will delay lunch until then. I used to make my excuses and leave as soon as the meeting was closed, but Sophie tipped me off that Sally Barnard made mischief as soon as I left, so now I tend to stay until everyone drifts away.'
'Is there any specific issues I should know about?'
'Difficult to cover everything, but I try to anticipate what questions may come my way. I’ve jotted those down, with my answers, under ‘notepad’ in my laptop. You can take that with you into the meeting, its accepted practice to refer to it if required. If anything unexpected does crop up, stall for time by saying you’ll look into it and provide the board with a written answer. You may get a bit of stick from Sally, but most of the others will be supportive.'
'What about your laptop and computer? Do I need a password?'
Shit! Barrie hoped her face had not betrayed his moment of panic. He hadn’t thought of that. Was there anything on the computer he didn’t want her to see? He stalled for time.
'Guess what the password is?' He smiled what he hoped was a disarming smile, but it was difficult to tell when he was relying on her facial muscles.
'I haven’t got a clue, come on, what is it?'
He was frantically thinking through anything that could possibly drop him in the mire. 'Go on, have stab at it.'
'We haven’t got time for games.'
She was beginning to sound a bit testy. He was pretty sure the computers were clean – well almost. 'Come on; join in the spirit of the situation we find ourselves in – say the first thing that comes into your head.’'
'For heavens sake, Barrie!'
'No, that’s not it.' He could see the anger beginning to build. 'Okay, if you’re not even going to try I’d better tell you.' He paused for what she took as effect, but he was in fact completing a mental run through of any files that could possibly cause a problem. No – he was definitely watertight.
'The password for both is… Natasha.'
'Natasha! Hooray! No one would ever think of that.' She managed to load his voice with heavy sarcasm, but Barrie simply shrugged her beautiful shoulders and poured them both a second cup of coffee. They followed the normal routine of taking the coffee up to the bedroom to sip as they dressed for the day, but there was nothing normal about the rest of the routine. Natasha had to explain to Barrie about the pill. She was halfway through her cycle so he would have to remember to take one pill every morning, with his second cup of coffee, until the pills ran out. Her body would then have its period and he would start on the next batch of 21 pills when it ended. Hopefully they would not remain as they were for that long, but if they did, she would have to show him how to use a tampon. When it came to dressing, Natasha struggled with Barrie’s tie, but strangely, he had no difficulties whatsoever. Inheriting Natasha’s slender, nimble fingers made everything easy.
The package that Dudley Wink delivered contained the silk chemise, made to Natasha’s design by one of their out workers. It was creased and would need a warm iron over it, but they had all those facilities in the small room on the third floor at DebTash. The other items, including the hand made French knickers and bra, were laid out on the bed in the fitting room – the room opposite Debbie’s bedroom. He would use that to change in. They had already rearranged the furniture in the living room to provide a sort of catwalk area. He could check with Debbie how she wanted each item presented, it would not seem out of place to go over everything again and anyway, it would never occur to Debbie that Barrie was locked in her partner’s body.
'Just leave it all to Debs. She’ll direct operations and do the selling; all you need do is model the pieces in the right order.' She kissed him briefly before adding. 'And for heavens sake make sure you don’t put anything on back to front. Double check: All labels at the back.'
Barrie locked the cottage as Natasha opened the garage doors and looked at his BMW. It was a monster compared to her sporty Mazda – and she had never driven it before. This was going to be her first real challenge in Barrie’s body.
In the copse, Dudley Wink reviewed all the material he had captured on camera – stills and movie. The sex on the bed was priceless, although he was a bit miffed that her husband was so well endowed. Anyway, it was the still shots of her posing alone at the window, which really turned him on. His favourite was the one of her holding her right breast with her left hand and her right hand straying down towards her pussy. She was doing it just for him. He propped the camera in the shade by the gear lever and looked at her as he masturbated. She was watching him – encouraging him and he ejaculated so quickly he almost missed the back of the envelope.