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Precious Time

| Jun 18, 2018
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Because I’d been secretly listening in to her telephone call, I knew what my wife was going to ask before she asked me.

“Elaine has asked me and the children over on Sunday for lunch. I’m not sure though as it means you’ll be by yourself. Is that okay?’’

I gave a small, pre-planned frown. “Hmmm…” Not too much of a frown mind you; not too much feigned concern. And no outward show to let my wife know that I was really delighted; that my heart was already racing.

Oh thank you…, thank you Elaine; thank you!

My wife put her hand on my forearm. “If you do mind, we won’t go.” She paused. “Oh…, I know, maybe she can come over here with her son instead…? We always seem to go there.”

No, no, no. That’s not a good idea! “No, it’s okay, you go there. I’ve got quite a few things to do. Need the peace and quiet.”

My wife smiled at me. “Thanks dear, I knew you wouldn’t mind. She’s had a tough time since her husband left her. And our kids play so well together.”

“It’s fine by me, really”. 

Actually I’m absolutely delighted. I CAN NOT wait. How many days to go? How many hours?

My wife gave me a peck on the cheek.

“In fact, I tell you what. I will take you there and drop you off. It’ll save you getting a taxi, it’s so hard to get one on a Sunday. Maybe I’ll even pick you up if you let me know what time you’ll be leaving to come back.”

“Thanks, that’ll be great. But no need to pick us up, I’m quite capable to get a taxi home.”

“Oh.., it’s okay, I need to pick some things to fix my computer from a shop not far from Elaine’s apartment, so I might as well do it Sunday afternoon,” I lied easily. “I can pick you up as long as you give me enough notice.”

I want to maximize the time you and the children are out. I want to be sure that you have arrived there and not had a change of plan; and won’t come back early. I need to be sure I am not disturbed for as long as possible.

“Thanks, love. I’ll call her back and tell her yes then.””

As I sat back down in my chair, my head was whirring. Small butterflies of excitement and anticipation began to swirl around the lower reaches of my stomach. I exhaled noisily , puffing my cheeks out, my body quivering slightly as I did.

Last time she stayed there about 3 or 4 hours. If I’m lucky, I might be able to steal about three and a half hours, maybe a bit more. If we here leave at 12.00, be there about 12.20; I can be back about 12.40; pick them up at 4.00,  so leave home again at 3.40.

“Okay, I just called her back and confirmed.” My wife interrupted my growing excitement. “You okay, you looked deep in thought?”

“Sure. Sure, I’m fine.” I swallowed hard, trying to take the tremble from my voice. Trying to hide my elation and speak normally. “Just got a lot on at work. Oh…, what time do you want to leave?” I asked, silently urging my wife to say a time as early as possible.

“Twelve is fine.”

Four days sixteen hours 18 minutes. One hundred and sixteen and a bit hours. Oh god, I don’t know how I’m going to get through the next few days…

As I usually did when I had free time in my sights, I walked around for the next two days in quite a bit of a blur; my mind simply couldn’t or would think of anything else. Sure, outwardly I functioned as normal; went to work, came home; played with the children, helped them with their homework; listened to details of my wife’s busy days; even treated her to an Indian takeaway after she hinted she didn’t feel like cooking on the Thursday night.

Inwardly though, I was in turmoil. What if they or Elaine cancels? What if either one of the children get ill and can’t go? How many hours to go now?

The anticipation, expectation, frustration and tension seemed to build by the hour. My stomach was in knots; my mood almost sombre, the stress of waiting getting to me. By Friday evening I was too keyed up to eat much at dinner and then just shuffled around my study whilst the rest of the family watched TV.

“Are you okay, dear?” asked my wife as I went back into the living room. “You seem a bit down or maybe distracted the last few days. Is everything okay at work? Not taking too much on again are you?”

I tried to brighten my face; give her a genuine smile; relax the tension wracking my body. “ Hmmphh, you know me…” I began gesticulating with my hands, opening my palms upwards and outwards, trying to ease her worry. “I worry too much.”

“Well, don’t. The company need you more than you need them,” my wife said. “Maybe do something to relax when we’re out on Sunday. It’ll do you good to have some time by yourself.”

“Sunday…?” I feigned as if I had forgotten. “Oh… oh yes…” Forty hours and counting!

“I’ll get the car out of the garage. Wait for you outside,” I called to my wife at just after 11.37 a.m. on Sunday morning. The tension eating me up more than ever, almost devouring me.

“Oh, I’m not ready yet. And I’m not sure the kids are. What time is it?”

“What?” I pretended not to hear properly. “Mmm…, I think it’s almost ten to…” I exaggerated. Come on come on come on … I almost got angry; not sure with who, but managed to suppress the feeling. Then: calm down, calm down, calm down! Not long now,

The traffic on the twenty minute run to Elaine’s apartment was fine, but coming back I got caught in two sets of road works. Once I banged the wheel in frustration, hurting my little finger in the process. The second time I beeped the horn because the driver in front waited a nano-second longer than he should have to move forward. Move…, move. Come on. Move!

I was perspiring from my brow and sweat ran down my back, even though it was a mild day. I finally made it back home at 12.44, just four minutes later than I had hoped for — and despite almost having an accident within 500 meters of home as I jumped a red light in my hurry to get back.

“Phew! Made it!” I exclaimed to no-one in particular, as I felt the tension of the last few days drain away in an instant—to be replaced by intense feelings of expectation and anticipation and excitement. Got about three or so hours, make the most of them…!

I had my clothes off before I knew it; had showered in 3 minutes flat; and was all fresh and ready within a grand total of 12 minutes from getting home.

A deep, deep breath; a heavy exhale and, for some reason I found myself counting to 20, still trying to compose and contain myself.

As I kneeled down on the carpet down in front on the small white  chest of drawers in the bedroom, my mind was blank. I was about to do what I simply had to do; what I had no choice but to do; what I had been dreaming of ever since I had last had the chance almost 6 weeks ago.

Another big half-sigh and I finally opened one of the drawers to reveal a resplendent, extensive  selection of bras and panties and stockings and an assortment of other enticing underwear. My god, my god… how long have I waited? Oohh…please go slowly, I begged “father time”. Please give me enough time to get ready, enjoy wearing that new dress my wife bought two weeks ago…, relax, relax and… oohhh… how I wish could prolong my precious, precious time…

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Category: Fiction, Transgender Fun & Entertainment

Christine B

About the Author ()

Christine has written numerous (at least 150) articles, columns, op-eds, features & stories for well known T magazines, websites & e-zines; she also works as a part time fiction editor for Club Lighthouse Publishing, and is a co-editor of an award winning T-girl Magazine. In addition, she has written 8 adult books mainly in the T sub-genre which have been published by Club Lighthouse Publishing, for whom she has been the best selling author for the last 5 years.

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