Phyllis: Part Two

This is the second part of a fiction serial, in 767 words.

Two wardrobes and one chest of drawers stood in the cramped bedroom. Terence had them all open, and was pulling out various items. One wardrobe was for his female clothing, along with three of the six drawers. On top of the wardrobes stood a row of wig stands, each topped by a different coloured wig in a different style. One good thing about his former success was that he could afford the best, and they were all made from human hair which was so much more convincing.

However, when he had been performing in plays, or on TV, the costume departments had made or hired his clothing. The dresses he was spreading out on the bed were from his impersonater days, and some lurid ones used in drag shows. They would not do, definitely not Phyllis.

The morning had been spent carefully eaxmining his finances. If he was careful, he could manage six months before the money ran out completely, and he would have to completely ignore the last demand from the taxman for the time being. The website he had chosen to use had the great advantage that females did not have to pay to join. The male admirers had to pay to get contact details, so that saved him some money on the registration fee.

Choosing a photo had been easy enough. He had hundreds to pick from, and wanted one that showed a demure lady of a certain age. A nice off the shoulder dress that made him look quite busty, thanks to the silicon-filled falsies inserted into the bra. Nice jewellery that was completely fake, but looked the part. Wearing two pairs of nylon tights and some tight panties dealt with any potential issues of showing a masculine bulge, and the short blonde wig with dark contrast was eminently suitable for a woman in her fifties.

The online profile for Phyllis had to be worded carefully. Only so much space was allowed, and it was important to make sure the implications were not too blatant. Just enough personal detail, but nothing that would give too much away. After many revisions, Terence typed into the box next to the photo he had uplaoded.

‘Fifty-something lady, formerly the headmistress of a private girl’s school. I consider myself to be elegant and refined, and enjoy the good things in life with the right company. Now looking for a long term relationship with a kind man aged 65-75. You must be unmarried, and financially secure. Your own house or flat would be desirable, along with being a car owner as I do not drive. I am based in the London area, but willing to travel to meet the right man. I do not accommodate at my own address.’

Satisfied, he pressed ‘Create Profile’.

He didn’t live anywhere near London of course, he could never afford the rents down there. But the slightly better part of the city of Nottingham didn’t have quite the same panache as the capital, and he could get a train to anywhere he needed to be. He had chosen to say Phyllis was a retired headmistress, as he knew that would feed into the fantasies of a certain type of man. The type who liked the woman to be dominant, and be in charge. And he had chosen the older age range for the men because they would be more desperate, and not as strong physically.

That done, he wanted to get out to the shops before they closed. His budget was only going to stretch to some well chosen Charity Shops in the city, but he knew he could pick up some decent dresses at a good price in those. Once they were dry-cleaned and pressed, they would look as good as new.

Four dresses and a pair of high-heels later, he was back from the shops with a pizza to put in the oven for dinner. As well as the clothes and food, he had purchased a large jar of hair removal cream, and a multipack of disposable razors. Any body hair was definitely a non-no, and would scupper his plans.

Eating the pizza portions with his left hand, Terence logged on to the dating website to check if Phyllis’s profile was active. He almost dropped the food onto his old laptop as he saw that he had sixteen messages already. As he continued to look at the screen, the number kept rising. By the time the pizza was finished, it had risen to twenty-nine. Smiling to himself, he relaxed back into the armchair.

This was going much better than he had expected.

34 thoughts on “Phyllis: Part Two

  1. (1) Terence had a chest of drawers. Phyllis had a chest of silicon-filled falsies.
    (2) Two pairs of nylon tights, with panties as reinforcements, helped Terence win The Battle of the Bulge.
    (3) Phyllis doesn’t mind if a man owns a cheap flat, as long as he doesn’t mind her own flat chest.
    (4) “Desperate emasculated doorman seeks dominant elegant headmistress.”
    (5) Overheard at the door: “Knock, knock! Any body hair?”
    (6) I once had a pizza in Twentynine Palms, California. (Crust me, it was good!)
    (7) Terence is bound to meet some men in person. I just hope he doesn’t rise to the occasion.

    Liked by 1 person

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