THIS IS NOT REALLY a TV story, although it is written from my perspective and i happen to be a very girly kind of guy - i will leave my underear to your imagination, but this story was written to help me deal with a very bad experience i had with a couple, and is how i wouldlike to spend my days - anyone wants to chat, guyys or girls, on this rather taboo topic, please write soon!
hugs
also -see my story " the seamstress" under my old old name
menophilist@hotmail.com
I had known her for a long time, and probably been in love with her for just as long, but for one reason or another we were just friends.
We did not live exactly down the road from each other, and I had told her things about me, about my sexuality that while they did not upset her, were simply not a part of her lifestyle or interests.
She was a best friend however, and we would occasionally meet and talk, quite intimately, and while I would be screaming with jealousy and anger when she told me about lovers and friends, I would listen, and that was what she wanted, so I was happy.
I had had a bad experience, not really rape, but I had been with a woman who had compromised me, and her husband had fucked me, quickly and vigorously -- trying to be charitable they misread the situation, and I had let my need for a certain sort of sex blind me to the danger signals that had culminated in the situation taking me somewhere I did not want to go.
I told her all about it, as we walked across the heath. It was a sunny day, and I felt as relaxed as I ever had with anyone -- she was happy for me to dress as I pleased, and I did not like to embarrass her, or take advantage of her good nature, so under a simple white shirt, and loose cotton knickers I wore a purple bra, which probably showed in outline if you looked hard enough, and purple knickers and suspenders holding up white stockings.
I always hoped that we would one day make love, and as an act of mischief, always wore her favorite colour when I was going to see her, and would go out of my way to mention it somehow.
We talked and walked for miles, under trees and out in the open, stopping for a cold drink, before moving on -- I suppose I did most of the talking, and as she was the only person who knew what had happened to me, I unburdened myself of my fears and concern and guilt -- in particular I wondered aloud if I had really wanted the scene -- subconsciously avoiding accepting what might happen in order to let it happen, but the guilt and confusion was the same, whatever my motivation.
When I had been younger I had just assumed that because I was a cross dresser I had to be gay, or at least bi-sexual, but all my encounters with men had been nervous uncomfortable affairs that I had had to force myself through, waiting for it to be over every time, and every time being certain that I would simply give up my search for dangerous exciting encounters, and now that I had "gone straight" and been dragged back into the unpleasant world of men and their need to simply fuck me and be done with me, I was again horrified and confused at how the gentle femininity in me had put me in a submissive role to a woman, I simply did not want to be a victim.
As usual she listened to all of this, and where I faltered encouraged me and chided me to let it all pour out, and she stopped me so I could cry, when that moment came.
By late afternoon I was exhausted, as much emotionally as physically -- we walked still, and eventually were at her apartment, which she normally shared.
As there was no one in, she invited me in -- suggesting that I might sleep in the spare room, and just be in a safe place, emotionally, for the night.
We bustled around, tidying the kitchen, and making plans for dinner, and she suggested that I might want to change -- there were some clothes of hers upstairs, and she would not mind if I wanted to borrow something.
My heart raced, to spend just a few hours in her company, comfortable and protected, being girly, was more than I could have dreamed of, and I told her, again almost in tears, how beautiful she was, and that I would so love to do something special for her.
I scurried upstairs, almost embarrassed, and stripped to my underwear. Choosing a blouse was easy, again, something simple, a black long sleeved silk thing with 5 or 6 buttons, but I was not sure what skirt to wear. There were clothes I had seen her in that were lovely, but it felt intrusive to wear something that I had seen her in, and I spent my time sitting on the bed just looking.
She came in silently behind me, and I almost jumped -- I turned away from her instinctively, embarrassed and awkward.
" What on earth is the matter? You have been so long?"
I tried to be coy, but she added with a pointing finger "oh. I see -- I don't mind sweetie"
I was wearing a pad in my knickers, the wings of which were obvious, and while she knew of my little kinks, she did not share them, and I felt silly and bad because she had seen me
"It's ok -- really, we all have our little habits, and that's what this is isn't it -- a little habit -- its endearing really, just don't take my last one, or I will make you run out for some more"
It was almost a fantasy, having to run to the shops in a strange town to buy sanitary pads, but I did not want to involve her in something I knew did not excite her, so we both changed the subject and chose a long green skirt from her wardrobe for me.
I stepped into it, and adjusted it, and she helped, brushing past my padded knickers front --
"Giggle -- I think I might treat you, but you might have to do something for me"
She gently lifted the hem of my skirt, and put her hand into my knickers. My cock was a little sticky already, and harder than I had ever remembered -- she gently caressed just the head at first, firmly tugging all 7 inches clear of my knickers, and pushing me to sit on the bed.
Men do not, contrary to popular belief; know what men want most sexually. Almost casually she took me to the edge of orgasm and gently lowered me down again with each stroke of her hand, occasionally pushing up at the area under my balls, each time seemingly making me harder and more sensitive to her touches -- again, she slowly wound down her movements until I was at a sort of plateau, and gently pushed my cock back into my knickers. I had not yet come, but was now swimming in a sexual mist more like the loss of consciousness than anything real or physical.
She sat and then lay on the bed next to me, very quickly almost falling out of her clothes.
Her naked body was one of the most spectacular things I had ever seen. Perfect in shape, tone, colour, and the soft responsive fluid of her curves and shapes.
I did not know what to say, but silently she indicated to a side shelf, where there was a pot of honey. I wondered if she had been practicing with it, as the lid had been put back on hastily, one handedly, and I knelt over her, and with my fingers drizzled an amount onto her left nipple.
Rather than simply take it in my mouth, I leant and placed my tongue to stop the flow of it from her nipple into the valley between her perfect breasts, and worked it back up, overlapping step by overlapping step to the top. As I reached the top, I felt a ripple through her, and she took my right hand, and placed it firmly around her right breast, which I held gently but firmly as I began to circle her now sticky sweet nipple with my lips. No teeth or tongue yet, I simply slid my top and bottom lips from side to side around her and tried to gauge how she felt -- and in time, gently replaced my mouth with my right thumb and forefinger, and kneaded her erect nipple while I moved over to her left, allowing my fingers to scoop honey into my mouth as I took the new prize into it.
This probably went on for 10 minutes, maybe 15, I certainly was not counting, and I then moved again down to her belly. Again, I tried to gently fill her belly button with honey, spreading it with my tongue across her. By now we were both sweaty, and I glided around her belly button, but with each sweep moved closer and closer to the bottom of her stomach, to her mons pubis, into the fine hair there, adding more honey, which warmed on her body, and began eventually to trip down, between her thighs, onto the bed, and a few drops splashed and stayed on her clitoris which was hard and pink and glistening.
I positioned myself lower on the bed, again wordlessly, and again using just my lips tried to stimulate her around her bud, without actually touching it, just hinting with pearly drops of honey and sweat at its presence. I tried to maintain this fractional distance for as long as I could, but at the moment when I thought I would explode, she gently pulled my face close to her, and I eagerly took her bud into my mouth.
At that exact moment I felt myself coming, my cock sticking far out of the waste band of my knickers, my come splashing my chest, and some landing just below my bottom lip -- I darted with my tongue and added the salty come to the fluids in my mouth as I began in earnest to make her come. I tried to be slow and gentle, but as she squeezed on my head with her thighs I felt myself being forced harder and closer into her sex, and each time she came I would be fighting for breath, until she would release me and we would start again.
To my delight, her period had started, just in a small way, and the area between us was stained with come, and her juices and of course more honey -- I was aching to come too, and knew that this sight and the smell and taste would ensure that I would not last long, but she rose, and sat me back, strode me under her powerful beautiful body, and lowered herself onto my cock, which felt like it was being squeezed my a sea sponge as she lowered herself right onto me -- as she went further down on me she scrabbled at my knickers and pulled them down underneath her, so all I could see was my cock slowly burying inside her, and my stocking tops disappearing under her bottom.
As she eventually took in my length, I took her bud between two fingers, and slid their length either side of it, trying to stimulate her to orgasm without actually moving either of our bodies -- involuntarily though we both began to move together, and apart, and soon the delicious feel of her orgasm all around mine rewarded me again, before I came slowly and exquisitely, able to feel my come pouring into her, looking for space between our bodies.
More conventionally now, we swung round together, so that I could make love to her, my own orgasm leaving me hard, and hers simply making her feel sexier still -- occasionally I would look down and see our bodies where they met, and as I kissed her I also slid a finger into the impossible space between us, to make sure that she came again while we kissed, and then, finally, that we would come together.
For maybe 30 minutes, possibly a lot longer, we lay together, wrapped in each others arms, my cock still deep inside her, softening, but held in place by her muscles.
The sight of her, where we were, the taste of her in my mouth, and again I became aroused, physically, and she stepped gracefully away from me, only to kneel down, and take my cock into her mouth.
If I had not come before, I would have come instantly -- the sight was incredible, by body dripping with the taste of her, and my cock going in and out of her mouth -- I lay back, and she gently began to hold my balls, and her fingers worked their way down to my bottom. I flinched, but with surprise, as she tried to place a finger inside me, but she recognized the reaction as discomfort --
"no. please" I whispered "take me".
She took the jar of honey, and poured what felt like the whole cold jar on the area just above my anus, and I felt it pour over me, and she gently introduced a finger, slowly working the honey as it warmed up into my hole, eventually her thumb at right angles to the finger pressed against the bottom of my balls, my cock still in her mouth, making me come again.
She threw back her head and laughed, and kissed me with pursed lips before returning her attention to my bottom. I instinctively spread my legs wide in the air, and was rewarded with her letting my own come pour out of her mouth, onto the place where her fingers, three now, were working their way in and out of me.
She had opened me up expertly, and indicated to me to open a draw. I did not question her as I passed the dildo to her, just closed my eyes and waited for her to thrust into me.
Again though, she was slow and deliberate, taking minutes -- maybe 30 minutes, to work it gently into me so that I did not have a moment of discomfort, just a full, sexy feeling that made me want to make love to her all over again -- my cock was hard and pointing to the sky, and the pleasure in her face as she ground the dildo into me with her hips and pussy was obvious
I came what seemed like the last time possible, my come squirting between us as she fell on me exhausted -- I squeezed the dildo out of myself, and came a little more, before we fell asleep with her on to of me.
Not a word was said until the following morning -- we woke at midnight, bathed together and washed each other tenderly, making love in the bath quite naked, quite "straight" and although I could not come because of the position, it was the most incredible sex again -- raw animal sex, with me doing all the work, and her giving in to me the way I had given in to her earlier -- eating a light dinner, before falling asleep on the sofa.
The next day was just a normal day, a simple walk, we read the papers together, and I packed and was waved off at the station -- she washed my clothes, and the whole fantastic dream seemed to threaten to leave me.
I tried to replay every moment on the way home, to write it all down, but I simply could not think of the words -- I am doing my best here, but the dream had done its job, I hope for us both, and I fear I caught only a fraction of it.