Five-ish

Tuesday rolled around and I had managed to scrape some money together in readiness for my private shopping experience at Sue Ryder's. Being a small seaside town down on it's luck it was easy to park just around the corner to the little back street shop. I waited till five minutes past five and took a walk. Although a 'CLOSED' sign was dangling in the door lights were still on inside spilling a harsh florescent glow out onto the wet pavement. Through the myriad stickers and signs I could just see Morris fussing about behind the counter, I knocked softly. He looked up and I heard his muffled shout of, 'We're closed dear!'.

I knocked again and hoarsely whispered 'Hi. It's err me', he craned forward to squint through the glass and his face suddenly lit up with a smile, waving he came to let me in.

The bell dinged as he opened up, 'Oh hi there, I wasn't sure if you'd turn up sweetie, how exciting come on in to Emporium de Morris!' he ushered me in and locking the door behind us, he deftly pulled a roller blind down over the door. 'Now then', he rubbed his hands together in glee, 'fancy a gin?' he pulled a bottle from a plaster model of a Puffin, 'I have to hide it or bloody Madge and her cronies would drink the lot!' he giggled. I accepted the tumbler  he offered glad of the Dutch courage. He sipped his and waved his hand to a shelf behind him, 'I've kept those items you selected for your SISTER', he winked outrageously, 'but I do have some other garments that I'm pretty sure may interest you, anyway what's your name dear?'

'Robert' I replied.

'No, no your femme name silly!' but before I could answer it had dawned on him that I didn't have a femme name, in fact he had a complete ingenue on his hands. Morris laughed, 'Oh my, oh my you're a little virgin aren't you - how sweet'. He rushed off to the back of the shop and brought back a bulging shopping bag which he dumped on the counter, 'Now all this stuff is going begging so help yourself', with amazement I pulled out a gorgeous pair of lacy opera gloves, there were bags of costume jewelry, rings, necklaces, earrings, hatpins you name it, feather boas, bags of make up and lipsticks - it was a tv nymphette's dream starter pack! As I marvelled at the goodies in the bag Morris had brought out several pairs of high heels and a few dresses. My earlier nervousness at my 'monde secret' being invaded was dispelled by Morris's generosity and camp sense of humour, he was to become my first TV mentor.

'Come on back into the changing room and let's see what size you are', he measured my waist and chest then sat me down in an ancient swivel chair to try on the wig I had first spotted in his window. He gave me a wig cap and helped me fit the wig, it fitted perfectly. 'Mmmmmmm....very Latin lover darling' he giggled. He whipped off the wig and sitting opposite me he proceeded to make me up. He cleansed and toned my face then built up layers of foundation, he shaded my eyes, lined my lips finally applying a pair of very long black false eyelashes. He refitted the wig and spun my chair round so I faced the mirror. I was stunned at my reflection, there indeed was a hot latin senorita! Morris looked seriously at me then fetched; the opera gloves, two garish diamante rings, a pair of silver hooped earrings (very gypsy girl), a pair of lovely lacy topped hold-up stockings and a old but lovely pair of black strappy sandals with silver 4" heels. He showed me how to put stockings on without laddering them then watched as I tried. I pulled on the opera gloves and he clipped on my earrings - I loved the weight of them and the strange feeling of things dangling from my ears! The stockings felt wonderful and whilst he was sticking long red fake nails on my finger tips my clitty was trying desperately to embarrass me by stiffening to attention as I felt hornier and hornier. Finally he disappeared and was away long enough for me to gain control of myself, my clitty subsiding to it's usual teeny size. He thrust his arm through the gap in curtains, a black georgette cocktail dress hung in mid air, 'Come on senorita try this little black number on, then give us a show. I don't want to see you again till I get the full effect!' It was vintage thirties, made of beautiful georgette material that was semi see through, it's shoulder straps were finished with lavish black satin ribbons and when I shucked it on in it dropped to about 5 inches above my knees. I fitted beautifully hugging my figure to perfection. The heels slid on as if they had been made for me, it was my first experience of wearing really proper high heels and I experimented by deliriously tottering around the changing area.

'Come on missy miss!' he flapped the curtain impatiently. 'OK, here I come', taking a deep breath I swept the curtain to one side and stepped out for him to admire his handiwork. He gasped theatrically holding his hands to his face, his mouth forming an 'O'. 'Gorgeous darling let's see you swish around in those heels'.

I walked up and down for him catching glimpses of myself in the various mirrors that were dotted around the shop. Soon the excitement was spoiling the shape of the front of my dress. He gasped, 'oh look at you, come here bad girl'. I slinked up to him and he draped his hand over my back feeling the curve of my cheeks under the sheer material. His other hand sneaked under the front of that thin material and gently clasped my stiff little cockette. I couldn't help but moan in pleasure as he worked me. ''oh yeah quite the naughty little senorita aren't you', he whispered close to my ear his words buzzing and sending shivers down my spine, I nodded as he slowly pumped my clitty. My initiation to sharing my tv sexulity with a partner filled me with shivering excitement. His hand reached up and twisted my nipples making me cry out in pleasure. 'I'm going to have to polish you up, aren't I',  he whispered conspiratorially deep into my ear - 'Mmmmm how lucky am I to discover a brand new girlie like you - what fun we're going to have together', his words plunged me into a taboo world of the forbidden and as dangerous and risque they sounded they only served to drive my body on towards a huge climax. Morris expertly interpreted my shudderings and pulled his hand away, 'you finish off darling and I'm going to relax in my chair and watch'. I gladly took over rhythmically stroking away at my cock, I thrilled as I caught sight of my reflection - ivory white skin starkly contrasting with black stockings and georgette. There I was, revealed in my natural state, wanton and revelling in ecstasy not despite Morris was watching but because he was watching. My femme face glanced brazenly back at me ruby red painted lips flashed a wicked smile in acknowledgment of a line crossed. Morris's gleaming eyes roved over my body drinking in the sight of his new creation writhing and moaning in ecstasy finally squirting jets of hot white girlie cum over the threadbare carpet. He clapped daintily and offered me a tissue.

As I packed away my lovely hoard of TV paraphenalia - I thanked him for a lovely evening, we hugged. As I was about to leave, a sly smile spread over his face, 'I have a femme name for you darling girl', my eyebrows raised, 'Yes? What....?'

'Well, I saw a really funny Steve Martin film last week and the femme fatale's name was Carlotta, remember you picked out that sheer leopard print dress and you looked so gorgeous in the little black georgette number .... well.... I was thinking how about Carlotta Sheer ?'. 
I laughed, 'that's brilliant Morris', I pondered for a second, 'what about Charlotta Sheer?' 
His fae lit up, 'Ooo you clever girl, Charlotta Sheer', he tried it out a couple of times yes the two 'Shuh' sounds have a real ring to them! It's perfect, Charlotta Sheer the seaside senorita'. Smiling and waving a big thanks I staggered out laden with bags but as he closed up behind me he gave me a bright pink index card. 

'Let's see you more often Ms. Sheer', he slapped my bottom and gave me one of those winks. I stepped out back to the real world and the shop door closed. On the index card was scribbled a note:

"Look for a pink card like this in the shop window for 

special after hours personal shopping" 

M