Nearly two years had passed since the time I had taken the place of my younger s****r in the exam room. Now aged 20, I still lived at home, with my Mum and Jessica, my 'little' s****r. Our deception had mixed results. On one hand it allowed Jessica to get the grades needed to start the college course she wanted, which was good. On the other hand there was the effect it had on me. Dressed in my s****r's school uniform I had experienced things I couldn't have imagined doing! In order to keep the plan working I had allowed myself to be spanked by one teacher and sucked the cock of another. The memories of those events still whirled in my head, prompting conflicting and confused emotions, but the greater memory of all was the way my Mum had responded to my sacrifice: she had been pleased with me in a way I hadn't known for years and I yearned for this approval constantly.
Whenever I was alone in the house I developed the habit of slipping upstairs and trying to recapture the feeling by dressing up. My outfits were nothing too elaborate. Some of the items I had kept from the first time. There was the simple white cotton bra, still with the padding Mum had put in it. The blue panties I had worn were still in my underwear drawer. In the uniform I had worn white ankle socks. I decided these were too c***dish to wear now so I had bought a pair of black tights, which I kept hidden under the other items in my drawer.
The risky part was the rest of the outfit. Since I had nothing that was suitable I had to borrow from my s****r. Each time I borrowed a blouse, a skirt and shoes from my s****r's wardrobe.
Once dressed my routine was always the same. I still had my long hair and I would carefully style it as best I could. I wasn't confident enough of putting everything back into the right place to risk using either my mum or my s****r's make-up, although I longed to. I would simply read a book or listen to music, taking the opportunity to enjoy the memories evoked by the feel of the feminine clothes. The swish of the tights against the skirt lining as I moved; the feminine curves of my false breasts; the shape of my legs when wearing the heeled shoes - it was bliss!
I always made sure I was changed back well before Mum and Jessica returned home, being careful to replace the borrowed items carefully. Or so I thought. A couple of months ago I guess I must have got a little careless. Shortly after they got back I was confronted in the lounge.
"What have you been up to this evening Peter?" asked Mum in a tone of voice that made it clear she knew I had been up to no good. Jessica stood beside her, wearing a smug grin. I felt uneasy and had the feeling I was busted. I opted for the 'truthful but leaving out the details' answer.
"Just sitting here reading."
"And what were you wearing? Was it one of Jessica's fitted white short sleeve blouses and her short black pleated skirt?" Mum asked, with the confident air of someone who knows the answer to her question already.
"And were you wearing these shoes?" Jessica added, holding the very pair of black sling-backs I'd been wearing.
I didn't answer. Annoyingly I began to cry, just like a girl. Mum comforted me, telling me that they had suspected what I was up to for a while and that they had set up a small web-cam in Jessica's room, linked to her lap-top to confirm their suspicions. I was expecting to be told off, or ridiculed. I didn't expect what happened next.
"In future" Mum began, "I want you to confine your dressing up to times when you and I are here together, when Jessica's out with her friends. I can help you fix your hair and teach you about make-up; it'll be much more fun than you dressing up alone." She placed her hand caringly on my shoulder as she said this.
"I've sorted out some of my clothes and shoes that I don't need any more. I've put them on your bed. You can keep them in your room and you won't have to borrow mine anymore!" added Jessica.
It seemed weird; my mum and my s****r helping me to carry on dressing up as a girl, but I wasn't going to complain. When Jessica was out, I would get dressed up and spent quality time with my Mum. Okay you could quibble that it wasn't entirely healthy for me to be dressed as my s****r and for us to be discussing make-up, fashion, the best methods of hair removal and that sort of girly stuff, but I didn't care one bit. For each of those evenings, those glorious few hours, I was making my Mum happy!
Perhaps I should have expected it, but after a couple of months Mum asked me to take Jessica's place once again. This time it was her driving test. She drove well enough in her lessons, but the first time she took her test she had a bit of a panic attack and failed miserably. Their chosen solution was, of course, for me to take the test instead of my s****r.
Her driving lessons had been a source of irritation to me. Mine had been paid for by me, out of the wages I had earned in my lowly paid supermarket job. My s****r's had been paid for completely by Mum. However to keep Mum happy I agreed.
On the day my nerve nearly went. The clothes Jessica and I were comfortable in were different. I favoured her former style, pretty and feminine, but her new style was heading towards what I thought was a bit tarty. Her skirts were tight and short, her blouses low cut and figure hugging, often cropped to reveal her belly-button! Even to take her test that's what she insisted on me wearing. I was most reluctant, but Mum talked me round. So I wore the pink blouse that tied under my bust and I wore the tight, black, Lycra mini skirt. Mum had produced a new more convincingly padded bra for me to wear and the blouse was arranged to make my new bust look convincing. I felt very exposed by the gap between the blouse and the skirt, although my waist did look slim and very feminine. I had to wear a very tight pair of knickers to trap my cock between my legs, just as the gym knickers I wore before had done. I wanted to wear a pair of shiny natural-coloured tights, for added security as it were, but Jessica wanted me to wear the black lace-top stockings that she favoured. Luckily Mum agreed with me. For driving she always wore a pair of flat black pumps, so I did too. Once Mum had fixed my hair and make-up I was ready for the instructor to arrive.
'b*o?' Jessica said in an ominous tone of voice. 'There's something I need to tell you.' She paused then blurted out her news. 'To save some money I've been, um, doing 'things' for the instructor.'
'What things?' I asked, dreading the answer.
'Well so far I've given him a few hand-jobs. You know wanking him off. But...' she paused. I waited as the silence grew. I prompted her.
'Well, um, I've kind of promised to give him a blow-job today.'
I was about to protest, complain to Mum, but at that moment a car horn tooted outside and I was bundled out of the door to face Clive, the driving instructor.
The look Clive gave me as I got in the car made two things very clear. He hadn't spotted the substitution and neither had he forgotten Jessica's promise. Although this was the pre-test lesson designed to put the candidates at ease, he wasted no time in putting his had on my thigh before I had even turned the key in the ignition and he proceeded to direct me to a car-park on the edge of a thickly-wooded park. It was quite deserted but we parked in the corner furthest from the entrance.
His hand stroked my thigh again.
"So Jessica I think it's time for you to fulfil your part of the bargain." Just in case the sleazy leer he gave me wasn't enough to make it clear what he expected, he proceeded to unzip his fly, take out his already hardening cock and place my hand on it. I began to stroke his cock, then, wrapping my fingers around it I gave it a few firm tugs, pulling his foreskin back a little further with each downward movement.
This wasn't enough for Clive. Pulling my head down towards his cock he said "Come on Darling, get sucking, we haven't got all day!"
Trying not to get caught on the handbrake and the gear stick, I twisted in the seat and bent over. I tried not to think of myself taking his cock into my mouth, but rather as if I was Jessica doing it -- Clive thought it was! One of his hands stayed on the back of my head, pushing it back down, forcing his cock deeper into my mouth, whenever I tried to pull away. Alarmingly his other hand began to stroke my thigh, getting higher and higher. Although it felt nice being stroked through the sheer material of the tights, I didn't want him exploring any higher! I focussed on his cock, teasing the tip with my tongue and forcing his foreskin back with my teeth and lips. All the time he was muttering to himself things like "yes", "that feels good, babe" and (my least favourite of all) "come on you little cock sucking slut".
I was praying for him to cum, but when he did I almost wished he hadn't! His hot salty cum squirted into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat. He was holding my head down so I had no choice but to swallow. As I did I sucked his cock further into my mouth which he loved! Eventually he stopped twitching, and let go. I don't know what came over me next; I found myself licking the last stray drops of cum off his cock as if I were licking a lollipop. I sat up and swallowed the last remnants.
"Fucking brilliant babe! Now let's get to the test centre." With that he tucked his cock back into his trousers, zipped himself up and reached into the glove compartment. "Want one?" He was offering me an extra-strong mint. I took one, eager to remove the taste from my mouth.
I felt tears welling in my eyes. I was confused and a bit numb. I felt used. All he had cared about was him. Also I was a bit surprised to find that I had enjoyed having my leg stroked while I was doing it, it had quite turned me on. I drove to the test centre following his instructions on a kind of auto-pilot. At the centre I escaped into the loo, the ladies of course, and sat there for a while trying to regain my composure.
A few minutes after I rejoined him in the waiting room an examiner called out my name. Well my s****r's name, but you know what I mean. I lead him to the car. Before we drove off he introduced himself as Nigel and carefully checked my driving license. There was a photo of my s****r, but it was small and we looked enough alike for me not to be concerned. I drove off and the test was underway.
After about 10 minutes Nigel asked me to pull over in the next safe place.
"Well congratulations... Jessica."
The noticeable pause before he added Jessica and the slight emphasis he placed on the name alerted me that something was wrong.
"What do you mean?"
"You drive very well and you make an excellent girl. However now we need to discuss what happens next."
His comment about making an excellent girl made it clear he suspected the truth but I had no choice but to bluff. "I have no idea what you mean."
"Now Jessica, don't be difficult. In one way you're unlucky, but in another you're very lucky."
"I don't understand."
"Impersonating a driving test candidate is a very serious offence. I suspect that you are not the real Jessica, but a close relative." He paused for a moment then added "A close, male relative."
I blushed deeply, but hoped to bluff my way out of it.
"That's an outrageous suggestion!"
"That's where you've been unlucky. I am probably the only examiner who could be certain enough to make such an accusation. You see I have several close friends who are trans-gender, like you. Although you make an extremely convincing woman, at this close range, if you know the tell tale signs, and I do, such a deception in very difficult, so I am almost certainly correct."
This was a new predicament for me. I was flattered that he thought I was extremely convincing, but what was he going to do?
"So I'm going to give you a choice. Either you can protest your innocence and we'll let the police decide or you can consider my alternative."
Once again I had no choice. "What have you got in mind, Nigel?" I said in as encouraging tone as I could manage.
"Well Jessica," he began...
Five minute later I was parked in virtually the same spot in the same secluded car park as before. This time we got out of the car. As we reached the front he put his arms around me and pulled me into a tight embrace. Passionately, almost roughly, he began to kiss me; on the lips, on my cheeks and on my neck. At the same time his hands roved over my body, stroking the exposed part of my belly and my back, squeezing my bum and caressing my thighs, raising my skirt as he did.
I was overwhelmed. I should have felt repulsed, but his passionate caresses were a turn on. He wanted me! Before I knew what I was obeying his urgings and pulling down my tights and panties to expose my bottom to him. I glanced round. He had put a condom on his cock and had a small tube of gel.
"This'll help," he said as he began to rub the gel around my virgin bum-hole. I moaned involuntarily as his finger pressed against me, forcing its way in a little. Disappointingly he pulled it away, but a moment later he replaced it with something much fatter; his cock!
As I bent over the bonnet of the car, he began to push forward, holding onto my hips as he did, pulling me back as he pushed forward. At first his cock just pressed hard at my bum. It wasn't probing as deep as his finger had reached but it was making my head swim in anticipation. Then, in an instant, he pushed a little harder and the tip of his cock f***ed my bum wide open and he slid in. I let out another moan; it felt strange and wonderful all at the same time.
"God that feels good, you're so fucking tight" he muttered, He began to rock backwards and forwards and I couldn't help myself; I began to match his rhythm, pushing back as he pushed forward. Soon he was sliding deep, deep inside me. I glanced down, between my 'boobs', he was pushing in so deep that it felt as if I would see his cock pushing out the front of my slim tummy, but of course I couldn't. My cock was as hard as it had ever been, slightly trapped in my knickers, the tip rubbing against the material with every movement. Then he gave a loud moan, his cock twitched and he slumped over, pinning me against the car bonnet. With almost painful swiftness, he pulled his cock from my bum and that was it. I bit my lip in sorrow: I wanted more, I wanted to cum with him inside me, but he was gone.
"Hurry up and get dressed, we've got to get back to the test centre."
Getting my self redressed wasn't at all easy. My still hard, aching cock did not want to be tucked between my legs and held snugly in place by my knickers and tights. I was quite painful and until it subsided I had a most unladylike bulge. By the time we reached the test centre I was decent again. I was still sore, physically and mentally, on the verge of tears. Almost unbelievably Clive was aware enough of my highly emotional state and he offered to drive me home. I sat there, saying nothing but with a head full of thoughts and feelings, clutching the paperwork to say that Jessica had passed her driving test.
At home, Jessica was delighted and quickly went out for a drive in mum's car. Mum could see that, although I was trying not to show it, I was upset.
'Tell me what's up, Darling' she said holding me in a maternal embrace.
She listened as, between my tears, I poured out my story. She made sympathetic noises and assured me that everything would be alright, telling me how proud she was of me and I began to feel better.
That evening as I got ready for bed, I began to wonder how soon I would be asked again to do something instead of my s****r... and I secretly hoped it would be soon!