The day had been a long, hard one at the office and I simply couldn't wait to relax and enjoy some dinner with my son. I wanted to surprise James with some extra time as I'd begun to realize just how disconnected we had become, the divorce not helping matters. Certainly my ex-wife had told me what a horrible father I'd been when she left with our daughter to shack up with some guy in New Jersey. But James had remained with me as he was graduating and didn't want to have to readjust to a new school for a few months.
So, I had taken to doing what I could by shoving 18 years of poor fathering into a few weeks we had alone together. But he'd been resistant hiding away in his room and playing on the computer all the time. I loved him with all my heart but he worried me the way he was going and I was determined to break him out of it.
I had stopped off at our favorite pizza place after leaving work early and parked in the driveway instead of opening the garage and pulling in so I could slip around back. With pizza box in hand, the house was quiet as I slipped into the side door that led into the kitchen. It was strange as school was on break and James should have been home by now. "He's probably playing on that damn computer," I muttered to myself, setting the pizza on the counter.
Slipping off my dress shoes, I left them by the foot of the stairs like I always did, a habit of being yelled at too many times for tracking dirt on the rugs. My socked feet padded up the tight, wooden stairs and into the main hallway that ran from the master bedroom down past the bathroom and the children's rooms. I heard the light music playing as I moved down the hallway, some female singer I didn't recognize, and a strange voice over the lyrics. It was high pitched but with a hint of a croaky baritone underneath.
Reaching for the doorknob, I threw open my son's door and nearly stumbled over my feet at the sight. A young woman was standing there dancing to the music in a dress I recognized as one my daughter had use to wear. Shapely long legs were clad in black nylons and ran into strappy high heels that hit at my weakness for a good pair of legs. Short, wavy brown hair ran into her eyes as they turned to me, shocked recognition showing in those whiskey colored eyes. And then it hit me, the attractive woman I was staring at, and whose legs had provoked a response, was my son.
I stopped in mid apology thinking I had at first walked in on a girlfriend of my son. He bent over as his knees came together and his hands tried to cover his body as if he'd been discovered naked. Despite bending over, I'd already seen the erection poking at the front of his dress even as he tried to hide it. My son was dressed up like a woman and aroused by it. For a moment, it felt like my world was crashing down and I staggered to his bed and sat down as he moved away towards the wall, our eyes still looking at one another.
"You... you ok, dad," the voice of my son asked from the lovely female figure.
"How long," I asked, my eyes looking up and down him. I patted the spot next to me for him to sit as I tried to pull my rational brain to the forefront. From the way he looked, there was no way this was his first time dressing up.
"For a while," he said, moving to sit next to me. He sat down and crossed his legs like a woman, putting those lovely stocking clad curves on display for me. "I've been dressing up just a little for years now but only seriously like this for about two."
Two years. An irrational part of me began to get angry that he felt he had to hide this from me, shutting me out of much of his life. And a part of me was angry because I'd raised someone who wanted to dress up like a girl. I began to think about all the bad things I'd seen online and wondered if he was going down to glory holes and sucking men off, being a little tramp. Still, he was my son and I tried to keep calm. "Is this because of me... not being around all the time?"
"Jesus, dad," he spat, rolling his eyes. "Not everything is about you. It just feels... I don't know... right."
Suddenly, I was standing up and moved in front of my son, towering over him. Well, 'her' really wasn't it. My hand reached down and fingers wrapped around the back of her neck, forcing her to look up at me, a snarl showing on my face. I could see a hint of fear in her face and something else, something I knew was as wrong as she did. Her skin felt good under my fingers, warm, and it had been a long time since I'd been with anyone. "Don't talk to your father like that, missy," I said, my voice low and rumbling.
We looked at each other for a moment as she licked her red lips which provoked a response in my, a bulge growing in my trousers. "So, do you just like dressing as a woman or are you one?"
"I... I don't know," she stammered, her voice rising in octaves.
"Well," I said, taking a deep breath. I needed relief and she needed to know, and then needed to be trained if it was what she wanted. "We should find out. If you are, that will make you the woman of the house with a great deal of responsibilities." I swallowed hard as I watched her looking at the outline of my cock in my pants, pressing against the fabric with growing need. "Take it out."