Chapter 11 - What's Wrong With Your Wife?

Chapter 11 - What's wrong with your wife? Like we've got time for that.




We're going back to my ex-wife (not literally jebus!) who in reality I'm still married to, although I'd rather not be since we split up 8 years ago this year. I paid the divorce money, she dicked up the paperwork just don't ask. In fact I'll be talking to a solicitor about it soon because I'm a bit worried in case I die suddenly and she gets what I've got instead of my kids getting it, as if I've got owt anyway. Actually she was my soulmate for years and years so I'll try not to slag her off, she gave me the best thing ever my kids X They taught me how to grow up I never listened.



So what's wrong with your wife? Well whatever it is it'll have to wait because now we're talking about what's wrong with mine. She's too fat for starters, and she isn't the same girl I met at all. Mind you that was thirty years ago fair's fair and I'm not the person I was then. This is really What's wrong with Me, but we'll make out like the joke is on someone else for now. The true facts of this story only became clear to me about 6 months ago after I'd come out to my daughter (who is 25) about dressing up. I only knew half the story before she dropped her bombshell, now I know it all. It's taken this long to sink in, or I'd have written about it earlier. This is the daddy of revelations, if you already thought I was a bit of a dick you've underestimated sunshine, I'm Moby. Here's the story.



Not long after I'd started seeing her back in the 90s, I remember her telling me about a previous boyfriend. Rather unpleasant chap by all accounts, ready with his fists and ungallant. This was before I met her, I never met him probly best for everyone. She sometimes used to dress him up in lingerie and do his makeup she said, presumably whilst he wasn't knocking her about. Hmm interesting, the dressing up of course not the wife-beating. They can wind you up but who'd hit a woman, made you feel good did it? The cant doesn't even get a fake name in my tale.



Wasn't sure at the time if she was telling me because she wanted to do that stuff with me, or if she was just telling me. I'm sure we all know that with wives and stuff there's often a hidden agenda. An ulterior motive is a much nicer way of putting it. Summat that wouldn't be obvious to a simple guileless soul like meself. At that point in me life I'd been dressing secretly for about 15 years, but when she told me this I didn't immediately say Bring it on I'll have some of that. And why on earth did I not? I shall try to explain meself.



You wouldn't have recognized me in the last century, I was so quiet and shy not the attitude queen I am today. We're supposed to mellow with age but it seems I just get spikier. Twenty years ago I wouldn't have booed a goose, now it's plucked when it looks at me funny. Tis mostly the driving job, meeting new people all the time. That and getting old, brought me out of meself in a way 20 years of office work never could. I've changed in ways I wouldn't have thought possible, have developed presence in situations without increasing my skinny little physical presence except in the gut area. Now mine is the ability to speak up and stand your ground, and be much less worried about where it goes. But I had nothing back then.



So because I was totally lacking the self-confidence and gobbiness I have today I didn't immediately say Great when are we doing this? Even though I'd been dressing secretly since I was a kid, I couldn't tell her that I'd have loved for us to do that stuff together. I was shy, and scared that she'd have thought I was some kind of pervert weirdo and dumped me on the spot, and boy was she great in the sack in those days. She was/is liberated and spiritual on one hand, singular and demanding on the other. Circles and signs, a sort of nazi buddhist. The most chilled out person in the world when we met and quite the reverse towards the end, this is what I do to people. Sometimes the kids tell me stories about the mad antics she still gets up to. I can imagine her asking them What does your father do these days? Oh he just drinks and laughs now he doesn't have to deal with your shyte all the time like we still do. Medals is what they deserve.





Some years later I did refer to her earlier TV boyfriend and casually mentioned the dressing up, only for her to make it clear that there wouldn't be any of that carry-on. Shot the issue down in flames she did. So I didn't bring it up again and I never dressed with my wife, wearing her clothes in secret doesn't really count. I never said a word and she wore the lingerie instead. That's not to say I wore the trousers, doesn't sound like it. My secret remained secret as far as the wife went and we still had loads of fun in bed. It could possibly have been a bit awkward if I was mincing around in sussies with 2 young children in the house. What's Dad doing? He's just wearing my clothes, it's fine.



We had 18 eventful years together. Sometime after we split she started seeing someone else, as usually happens. I can't be arsed calling him The Guy Who Went Next or Mr Sloppy Seconds, so for the purposes of this story alone we'll call him Stu. I think she dated him for a year or so before it ended, he turned out to be an unsuitable replacement. In the end she suspected Stu of sabotaging her car, shooting at her house with an air rifle, all sorts of crazy crap. She told me this hersel, we were still friends at the time. I'm so normal next to Stu and the countless other guys she's been with before and after me, bet that's not how she paints it.






My daughter knows about my transvestism see chapter 9, fecks sake try and keep up. Telling her has definitely brought us closer together, and she's been a great help with buying clothes and makeup. When I told her about it, it was like this - she says I'm fine with it and I won't tell Mum, but if she ever finds out you're a sissy then I never knew a thing about it, and you better back me up Dad. She'd be in such sheep dit with Momma if it came out that she knew about my dressing and never told her, so that's the deal. An iron agreement, were locked in.



So about 6 months ago me and daughter were discussing some sissy issue when she tells me Stu was into crossdressing. Dressing up like a woman, I think we all know what it fecking is. Just like the earlier wife-beater guy he was a sissy, another one. So my wife had transvestite fun with at least 2 other guys, not at the same time you understand but before me and after me. A massive history of hanging out with blokes who enjoy pretending to be birds. There's a pattern here somewhere, and when I've finished sewing I've made meself a hat that says Sucker. She should have been doing that stuff with me, oh yeah I was too shy to say anything.






When the girl told me I mused aloud Did they used to have sex when he was dressed up, did she do him with a strapon? The gobby thing, and you can't help but wonder. My daughter says I'll tell you if you like and she would've done, she's got even less bullsht than I have. I said absolutely fecking not, no thanks talk about too much information. Nearly bit off more than I could chew there. Just like me, my wife tells my daughter everything, feck knows how the girl juggles the pair of us guess she's had practice.






I couldn't make this up. And I think back to the time when I finally got her to watch the Rocky Horror Show with me, we get 20 minutes in and she says oh I didn't think it would be like that, and wouldn't watch the rest. Oh no, she's not into any of that. I was the safe guy who paid the bills and was good with the children, clearly not one of the exciting kinky guys whom she might want to put in stockings. All the times I wore her boots and underwear behind her back, maybe I shouldn't have been so careful not to get caught.






So my wife of 18 long years ended up having tons of tranny fun with everyone but me. All those years and I could never bring it up. I belong on the fecking funny farm, did I miss an opportunity? Don't you like a joke Stella yeah hilarious.






Love, Stella X

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