Dinner with the parents

The day passed by quickly after my video chat with Sandra. My fiance entered the house shortly after that and quickly set to packing her things, and for once I found myself eager to assist in helping her on her way. "So sweet!" she told me without knowing that my eagerness was prompted by my plans to fuck a fat sissy crossdresser I had been spending thousands of dollars on online for three days straight. That night, Sarah tried to see about getting some parting sex before she had to leave, but I held me ground and declined; I made a promise to Sandra after all and I intended to keep it. Sandra deserved my pent up load much more than Sarah did, due in no small part to the fact that Sandra and I had been exchanging messages and photos back and forth for months now, and once Sarah and I were finally married, she would be the only one I was having sex with from then on out; my fiance, although impatient in other matters, would have to wait on this for now.

As such, I gave her an excuse about being tired from work and we went to bed that night, our last night together before we were to meet her parents for dinner and she was to head off on her business trip. The day flew by again as I eagerly awaited more messages from Sandra - some of them including pictures of the hotel room I had bought for her, which included a sizeable balcony, a full size hot tub, a king size mattress, and a whole host of other amenities I made sure to include in my purchase. In many of those pictures as well, Sandra included shots of herself; some of her face, cheap, whorish makeup covering the most masculine of features, a purple wig this time which fell down over her eyes, and very often of her full body, mostly nude with the exception of the black lace stockings she wore. Her fat belly was marked by stretch marks and faint hairs, and although others might dismay at these so called "imperfections", they only made me want her more. She was a proud, beautiful woman who out shined the rest (in my eyes) through the effort and sincerity she put into herself. What got me riled up the most was the pictures she sent showing off her deliciously slutty red lipstick, which almost made me salivate; I had dreamed for months upon months of what our first kiss would be like, if it would maybe be even better than the one I shared with Sarah. Sandra once told me that she had often thought about how my lips would taste pressed against hers - especially against her pussy, which I fully intended to follow through with as well.

Finally, it was time for Sarah and I to meet her parents. I was a little apprehensive - I had to make a good impression on the both of them, which was a little bit harder to do with the knowledge that in a day's time I would be ravenously fucking an expensive sissy whore instead of being with their daughter. Even so, I tried to stay focus and not check my phone for new messages from Sandra.

As we were driving, Sarah turned to look at me with a bit of a frown. "So, uh, you know how I've never really talked much about my father?" she asked, to which a nodded quickly. I was starting to wonder at what point she would start to tell me more about him. "Well, the reason I don't talk much about him and why my parents separated from the first place is..." she began, pausing to try and find her words. What could be so hard to say that she couldn't tell me? "It's just that... he's... gay," she said, quickly looking to see my reaction to the word, which only caused me to raise a brow.

"So?" I replied.

"So?" she said with more than a little bit of disgust. "John, it's unnatural. Men should not be sleeping with other men, or women with other women. My dad's a queer and it ruined my life when he came out, and mom's too!" she said, getting more upset as she spoke; I had never seen Sarah get so riled up over something before. I had no words for her, which Sarah seemed to notice, and so she withdrew into her seat and crossed her arms over her chest - no goodbye kiss for me tonight. Sighing, I elected to focus on driving us to the restaurant where we would be meeting with Sarah's parents.

I had never been too sure about my own sexuality, truth be told; most men didn't interest me, though I was definitely able to appreciate their attractive features, of course without telling my fiance of these feelings, evidently. Sandra was a bit of a special case; although in many ways she retained a more masculine body and lifestyle out of her life as a sissy, it made no difference to me as she had always shown preference to being called a woman in our many interactions. Some would qualify this as being transgender, and maybe I would to, but it was for Sandra to decide in her time, I figured. My attraction to a woman so unlike most other woman might be called "queer" by some ignorant types of people - perhaps even my bride to be included - but it all seemed straight to me at the end of the day; it wasn't the genitals that determined one's gender identity, it was the person choosing it, as I had come to learn from my chat's with Sandra.

My thoughts on sexuality came to a halt as we arrived at the restaurant. Checking my phone, I saw a message from Sandra: "Gotta go offline for a few hours, but when I'm back in my hotel I've got tons of photos I'd like to take for you ;)" the message read, which caused me to smile despite the lousy mood that had formed between myself and Sarah. "Something funny?" she asked, and I quickly put my phone away. "Just thinking about our wedding, honey," I lied, but that seemed to earn a small if not entirely earnest smile from my fiance, which disappeared just as soon as it had arrived. I just had to get through this meal and I would finally have Sandra all to myself.

It was a nice restaurant, truth be told, but definitely not the most expensive one money could afford; after all, up until a few days ago most of our combined wages had been spent preparing for our wedding next week, so some liberties had to be taken to ensure dinner with the parents wouldn't end with us cleaning dishes in the kitchen. The host greeted us, and after giving him our name, he checked the list and nodded. "Ah, yes, the party of four. Two of your members have already arrived - if you will follow me," he said, and led us through the winding tables and chairs of the upscale restaurant, until finally we were delivered to our table, and what I saw there caused me to stop in my tracks. There, at our table, were two people; one was undoubtedly Sarah's mother, a middle-aged woman with graying hair and aging skin, with features that clearly resembled Sarah's. She looked dour sitting next to the man beside her, who I immediately recognized. He was also middle-aged, though his familiar wrinkles were not so pronounced as Sarah's mother, and the fat curves that nearly busted through his dinner outfit were more than recognizable to me already. His hair was short, his eyes were... absolutely dazzling, his lips were plump and kissable, and his voice I heard as I approached I had heard clearly many times before, though with a more feminine touch to it. Sarah's father, who she and her mother detested so much, was in fact Sandra, the sissy who I was going to cheat on her with. Even in his (or was it her?) unadorned state, he still appeared pretty and gentle in a most approachable way.

"Hey, Mom! Dad..." Sarah greeted, which caused them to look our way. Sandra's eyes met with mine and recognition flowed through her at the same rapid speed it went through me. Unable to stop walking towards the table, I shakily said hello to them both and took a seat, my face already beginning to blush. He knew. Soon enough he would tell Sarah, she would break off the wedding and tell all our friends, and my social life would officially be over. Sarah seemed to notice my blush, which caused her to raise a brow. "Are you alright, John?" she asked, and I quickly nodded and **** myself to look back up at her mother and father, though my eyes lingered on Sandra far longer than I should have any right to. "Do you need some water?" he asked, already offering me a glass of water which I accepted gratefully. As I reached for the glass from him, our fingers touched gently against each other, and I would be lying if I said it wasn't electrifying.

Suffice it to say, the night went on in a rather awkward fashion. Sandra - who I had come to be introduced to as "Peter" by Sarah's mom, Hailey - and I tried not to give each other too much eye contact and keep the conversation going where we could, though it was hard to do that with Sarah and Hailey being so standoffish towards Peter, always shutting him down with a chiding laugh or a disrespectful comment when he brought up one of his interests. Even though I probably shouldn't have, I felt myself drawn to defending him when Sarah or Hailey were rude, often trying to continue the conversation he had started rather than let things die into awkward silence. I think maybe he appreciated that, because at no point did he try to tell his ex-wife or daughter about our little arrangement - about the massive amount of money I had spent on our meeting - though I suppose he likely wouldn't have told them he was a sissy whore, either, considering how they seemed to despise homosexuality or any other deviation from cis gendered heterosexuality.

By the time our meal came to an end, I was more than ready to drive home and find some way out of this, but nothing came to mind by the time I pulled in to our driveway. Sarah had to leave for her flight that night, and so shortly after we had got in, she was already packing her suitcase into her car. Looking at me one last time before taking off, she seemed to pick up on my anxiety. "Is everything alright?" she asked, and although I tried to play it cool, it didn't seem like she was buying it. "Hm... I think I know what's wrong," she said, her voice beginning to darken. "I saw how you were looking at my dad the whole night - always trying to defend him and encouraging him to keep talking instead of me, your own fiance," she said with venom in her words, and for a moment I felt like my doom was fast approaching. Did she know?

"Well if you think I'm such a bad person for not wanting to tolerate fags in our country, then maybe you've got a lot of thinking to do before I get back!" she shouted, slamming her car door shut. I stood there in the driveway as she drove away, lost in my own thoughts. What had happened tonight? What was going to happen with Sandra, or Peter, or whoever I was going to meet with tomorrow night?

Just as I started to consider sending Sandra an apologetic message for what had happened between us and my unfaithfulness to her daughter, my phone buzzed loudly in my pocket. Taking my phone out, I gulped as I saw who it was from: Sandra. Was this the end?