lipstick

I lay back on the bed next to Cindy, totally relaxed. The room was hot from our exertions so we lay without touching. At least until she began to run her fingers over my groin, finding where my panties were soaked through with my cum.



She moved to lay on her side, propped on her elbow, her left breast laying heavily against my arm as her right hand traced the edges of my panties and brushed my shaved legs. I shuddered happily as one finger slid down to stroke the gusset of my panties, a suggestive move toward my erogenous bottom.



I closed my eyes as her hand moved up my body, dancing over my cock for a few moments, ensuring that it recovered to half-hard. She went further up, over my smooth abdomen toward my bra and the soft, full fake breasts that filled the satin, lace, and wire completely.



I looked and saw her cupping my breasts, her fingers touching and swirling the prominent nipples around where they announced themselves in the otherwise smooth, pink satin of the cups.



The journey completed by touching my face and my lips. Traces of lipstick still rubbed off on her fingertips.



“You are a divine creature, Janie,” she said at last, satisfied with her inspection.



“Thank you, honey,” I said with a smile. I was in a glow of sexual satisfaction and acceptance. If you’d asked me three months ago, I’d say such a woman as Tessa didn’t exist, could never embrace my passion for the feminine and find her own pleasures in it. Needless to say, I’d do anything for her.



Her hand had returned to my panties, stroking them and bringing my cock back to life for round two.



“I think I’m ready for the next step, Janie,” she said after a couple minutes of silent stroking.



“Anything, my goddess,” I breathed, the flow of erotic pleasures in my cock was beginning its journey around my body and mind.



“When we play, I tease you about being a slut and a panty-loving sissy…”



“And more,” I grinned.



“Exactly. I think the theme is pretty clear, but we’re missing the main event.” She paused again, still stroking, though I was beginning to realize that this was very serious to her.



“What do you mean?”



“I think it’s time you became a cocksucker.”



While my face flushed and I suddenly found swallowing to be difficult, she continued to hold my cock. She felt it swell in her fingers. I couldn’t reply but she was smiling.



“Are you ready to play?” That was our code phrase for sexual play time where I would get to dress all sissy and we’d experiment.



“Yes…” I said quietly.



She leaned back to reach underneath the pillows on her side of the bed. I got a lovely view of her tight body and healthy D-cup breasts. I was more blessed than any man or any sissy had a right to be.



When she leaned back, she had a rubber cock in her hand. Without thinking, I let out an exhale of tension.



She raised an eyebrow. “What did you think I meant? No, don’t answer. I think I get the message. Anyway, this is my cock. It took some time to find the right one since I wanted a beautiful one that was also big enough to satisfy my girlfriend, Janie. Do you like my cock?”



“Yes, Tessa, your cock is beautiful and sexy.”



“Thank you. I’m very proud of my cock.” She got up until she was standing on the bed over me. I watched her carefully step into the strap-on harness, pull it up her legs, and adjust it for a few moments until he stayed in place and was positioned just right.



“Mmmmm, yes, I like my big, heavy cock,” she purred, swinging it around with just a movement of her hips. “I like to touch my cock too.” She traced her fingers up and down the shaft before slipping it into her grip and beginning to stroke it.



“Oooo, yea, that feels good. I like to stroke my cock. Makes it so hard, especially when I’m looking at my girlfriend.”



My panties were tented with my raging hard-on and it was hard to keep from reaching down to rub myself through the cum-soaked satin.



Tessa got back down on the bed, laying back propped up with the pillows.



“Janie, will you kiss my cock?” Her hand was still moving in a motion similar to a guy masturbating but just off enough that you could always tell she was a girl.



I slid down the bed and then got up on my knees next to her hips.



“Just kiss it, that’s all, honey,” she teased. I looked at the dildo more closely. The color was a surprising match for Tessa’s skin tone and the detail of the mold was impressive with a distinctive cum-hole and circumsized foreskin. It was then that I noticed the foreskin was moving up and down with her hand. Fascinated, I moved in for a closer look.



The detail was really amazing. If I were to squint, I could easily mistake it for a real cock. I felt her hand touch my head, not pushing but almost suggesting that I kiss it. So I did. The ‘skin’ of the head was soft with a hard core. It must have cost her a fortune.



“Ooo, baby, that feels so good. Kiss it all over.”



I got myself settled so I could lean down to the whole cock easily and began to kiss and lick the whole thing, from the fat head down to the hairless but moveable balls. I saw little traces of the slutty red lipstick I’d chosen for the evening.



“Janie, will you suck the head? Just the head a little, honey?” she whined playing her role perfectly. And if I wasn’t mistaken, I could tell that her sex was enjoying it too.



I placed my lips around the head and gently drew it into my mouth. I shuddered at the sensation. It was something I’d fantasized about now and then but never felt like I really wanted to bring it up to Tessa. Maybe after everything we’d done together I was still afraid that I could push her too far.



But I quickly forgot about all this and entered that zone where I’m completely focused on her and myself and the sensations… the weight of my breasts in my bra pulling the straps against my skin… the way my panties slide over my bottom as I shift my cock in the front… the enforced position of my feet strapped into 4″ high heels. Now I could add the sensation of taking a soft cock into my mouth.



The rubber felt cool at first, but as I worked it, it warmed up and made the illusion seem even a little more real. Tessa didn’t have to play at asking me any more. I easily moved on from sucking the head to sliding more of it in my mouth. I used lots of saliva, getting it nice and slick.



“Oh yeah, fuck that feels good,” she moaned as I began to bob my head up and down on the cock, keeping my teeth from the edges but pressing my tongue against it all the way up and down. I was about halfway down, I guess, when it would hit the back of my throat. Those were the moments where she gasped a little.



The way the foreskin shifted under my lips was amazing and it didn’t take much for me to dream that it was a real cock I was mouth-fucking. She gasped again.



Of course! She was getting rubbed by the base of the dildo. As soon as I caught on to that, I changed my blowjob technique to stimulate her more.



She was watching me intently, sucking ‘her’ cock, and I saw her face and breasts flush as they do sometimes when she gets very aroused. I wanted to reward her for bringing this into our play time so I got a finger nice and slick with my saliva and went to press against her asshole.



Her eyes shut and her hands went to pulling on her thick nipples. She was past words as I slowly felt her ass open and let my finger slip inside. She began to buck up, thrusting the cock into my mouth and grinding the base against her clit. I let her work it as I slowly started fucking her ass with my finger.



After only a couple minutes, she came, her ass clenching down on my finger and her hand reaching out to my hair to hold my head as she ground against the base, getting the real peak out of the orgasm.



Soon, we were back to laying on the bed. She was breathing hard, her eager cock jutting proudly over her pussy. Her fingers reached over and found my aching cock in my wet panties.



“My cock does something else too,” she whispered grinning.

A is for Andrea: Sisters are Doing It for Themselves



**********



A series of stories with transgender themes which I hope will be of interest to those who like women, or would like to be a woman. Which includes me!



**********



It was only after I’d been back in Brum for about 6 months that I realised that there was a potential ‘outlet’ for my hobby quite easily available. I mean, like many trannies I’m very secretive about what I do. Don’t like to tell people, it’s not the sort of thing you chat about in the canteen over lunch, is it?



‘Yes, Fred, I got a gorgeous pair of shoes in a sale last week, kitten heels, a bit high for me but what the hell….’



Like I said, not the stuff of everyday conversation.



I’d been online into TV chat rooms quite a few times, enjoyed the sexy banter, swapped a few pictures with other trannies, that sort of thing. And seen quite a few cocks, from admirers, guys who fancied themselves and liked to show off.



But it was when my little digital camera broke, usual sort of thing. The basic camera was still working but the shutter button was loose. The only moving part on the whole device. It was only a cheap one anyway, not worth repairing so I bought a new one. A far better camera, much bigger resolution, and cheaper than my old one had been. And it had a web-cam facility.



And that’s where my dressing up began to take off. I’d seen some trannies – ‘Helencam’, ‘CamTV4U’, that sort of nickname, in the chat rooms before. One of them – I’ve forgotten ‘her’ name, even came online to me. I was able to use my software to access her web-cam pictures and watch her ‘posing’ online for me. Well now I could do it myself.



So I got myself all dressed up in my sexiest outfit, and set up the camera in the bedroom, connected to my laptop so it would be more portable. I amused myself by trying to take some short 10 second videos of my female alter-ego, but it was difficult. The video didn’t have a delay setting like the still camera mode.



However the web-cam aspect still worked OK. That was somewhat exciting in itself, lying on the bed in stockings and high heels, watching myself stroking my thighs and sliding my skirt up to show my thong. I logged onto the web and clicked on my chat-room software. I spent nearly half an hour flicking between my three favourite TV rooms but there weren’t many in that night, and no-one I could find with their own web-cam. I looked again at myself on screen, my own camera output, I didn’t want to waste this opportunity. Quickly I went into the bathroom to put some mascara on. In the bedroom I looked into the tall mirror, bought specially for that purpose. Admiring my female self. I could do it.



I logged onto the site again and waited.



**admirer4tv** asl?



Bloody rude, I closed him down straight away. A couple of others popped up, starting out in a similar vein. I was beginning to wonder if I was being too quick to click out of what I saw as rude interruptions. Then.



**Tvcam4cam** Hello there, Beth, how r u?



OK, so this one was polite. May as well give her / him a go.



**BethUKcam** Hi there, w mids UK TV here with cam, u?



**Tvcam4cam** I’m good, w mids TV also. I’m Andrea, where r u?



And we went on exchanging pleasantries for several minutes. He / she was apparently in another Birmingham suburb, only about 4 miles from me. And a bit older, also single, divorced rather but that’s the same thing these days.



**Tvcam4cam** Want to swap pictures?



And I did, sent him — or her – my very best-looking picture, very slightly soft-focus, taken at a dressing service with the husband of the owner beside me on the sofa with his hand on my knee. OK, with his face blanked out, Victoria had insisted on that when I’d asked her if she would do a photo like that. It was a good one of me, though, tight pale top plunging to show some cleavage – courtesy of some wonderfully-engineered padding – and ultra-short ultra-tight black p.v.c. miniskirt.



I’ve always thought I was pretty good at make-up but on that visit Vicky had excelled herself. In her premises I think I looked as near to female as I’d ever done, and on the photos, well, the impersonation was totally convincing. She was good at her job, and I looked good too. As did Andrea, when his / her picture arrived I clicked it open to see a tallish female figure, tall in high heels that is, longish dark hair and very nicely done make-up.



**Tvcam4cam** You want to show yourself on cam? I will.



**BethUKcam** OK, give me a moment to sort out the connections.



I’d been ready to do this, but I was a little disappointed I’d not done full make-up, red nails, that sort of thing. But my figure looked good, I knew, and anyway this was really why I’d gone online.



We spent some time again looking at each other, posing rather. It was rather exciting to see another TV ‘live’ for the first time. Except the one I’d seen briefly at Vicky’s that is, ‘she’ had been leaving as I arrived. Then Andrea surprised me.



**Tvcam4cam** Bethany, I have to go soon, got to be up for work in the morning. How would you feel about meeting up?



I didn’t reply. Andrea had surprised me. In a way I’d thought someone might ask about that, I’d had enough requests at different times but never gone into it seriously. This was different. I liked the look of ‘Andrea’. This TV seemed in some ways very similar to me, and local too.



**Tvcam4cam** Beth? How about it? Tomorrow night even, before either of us can change our mind.



So Andrea wasn’t totally certain either, hence that comment. Yet this was the only proper request I’d had, and Andrea really was local.



**BethUKcam** Not totally certain about this but – yes.



We agreed to meet online again the following evening early on, about 6.30. Then, if we were still of the same opinion, to sort out a meeting at Hawkshead Park sometime later that evening. Andrea seemed to think we could come up with a strategy for meeting which would satisfy us both. I had the impression Andrea was a professional person like me, and was very wary about confidentiality.



We closed down. I changed back to being Ben. I had trouble getting to sleep, and then didn’t cope enormously well at work that day. I was nervous naturally. But straight after work, as I began my drive home my butterflies disappeared. I was actually looking forward to the evening. I really hoped Andrea wouldn’t back out. So I called ahead to Vicky’s house, she was in, and bought something I’d wanted for a long time, a pair of skyscraper high heels. Real tranny stuff.



At half past six I was online ready, anticipating. As soon as Andrea came on I jumped in to suggest ‘yes’, that we should go ahead with the meeting. Straight away Andrea agreed and offered me his / her mobile number so I could ring and we could sort out the arrangements more easily.



When I called I was – just for a moment – disappointed. The voice on the phone was male. But I got over that quickly, Andrea had clearly thought this through and suggested locations and times for the meeting. The butterflies started again. But despite all that I was determined to go through with it.



“OK Bethany. We can do this. Be there at half nine, by the side gate. And just to tempt you I’ve got a new p.v.c. miniskirt, scarlet and painfully tight so you’ll have no problem recognising me. See you there.”



We rang off. I had about two-and-a-half hours to become female. Well, to become a female-looking tranny at least, or as close as I could get. I was going to go – in Andrea’s honour – absolutely ALL the way. Tonight I was in adventurous mood, and I determined to dress to kill.



In my bedroom, I laid out all my clothes and my accessories. I set up my makeup stuff in the bathroom, and ran a very hot bath. In the tub I slowly shaved my legs and my armpits, something I’d often thought about but never actually done. I wanted to FEEL good as well as look good. I dried off and rubbed a slightly oily fragrant body lotion over my entire body. I’d kept my fingernails on the long side, but recently I’d let them grow for an extra 2 weeks. Now I filed them into tapered ovals. Then I sat down and painted them, and my toenails, a deep red vermilion, totally tarty I thought, and finished them off with a high gloss top coat. I lay back on the bed to let them dry and mentally planned what was to come next.



I have never had much of a beard, really only a light fuzz so it didn’t take much to close shave my face which I did three times in all. I rubbed in a moisturizer to try to improve the baby-smooth skin effect even more. I was becoming excited now, I’d already done stuff I’d never tried before in my efforts to feminise my body. I sat down with a small magnifying mirror on my dressing table and, with a pair of fine tweezers. A few minutes later I had severely plucked eyebrows, I’d sort out later how to explain them at work the next day.



Since I’d basically be in a darkened area in the Park I decided to go with heavier makeup than usual. I started with the foundation, first rubbing a beard cover cream over my upper lip and along my chin line. I didn’t think I really needed it but on this occasion I was doing absolutely everything which could help my feminisation. I rubbed that in, and the excess off with a cosmetic sponge, and then applied my Maybelline Colour-Stay makeup with my fingers over my entire face and under my chin and smoothed that in with the sponge. And finally, using a large brush, I applied the Maybelline matching powder all over to set the makeup and smooth the pores.



The eyes came next. I used a black liquid liner, Max Factor this time, along both my upper and lower lash lines. I always applied it very thinly on the bottom, but fairly thickly in the middle of the upper lash, and extended outside the outer corners of the eye. For eye-shadow, I used a medium blue over the entire lids, almost from lash-line to brow, with a light line under the eyes, then a slightly darker iridescent blue over the eyelids themselves. Finally I brushed a deep blue into the crease, out past the edge of the eye and along the outside of the lids.



I started brushing on coal-black mascara on upper and lower lashes. I applied five separate coats in all, using a very fine comb to separate the lashes between each coat. And finally I filled in my eyebrows with an off-black eyebrow pencil, extending the outer edges in a pencil thin line and used an eyebrow brush to blend it in with my natural plucked brows.



I brushed a dark rose blusher powder on my cheekbones and blended the edges with a lighter shade. And for the finishing touch I did my lips. This has always been a very sensual moment for me, one of those tasks which really did identify me as a woman in my own mind. My lips are quite full anyway especially for a man, but I outlined them with a red liner and then applied a new lipstick I’d discovered fairly recently, in a deep metallic red to match my nails. I used two coats, a colour coat first and then a clear high-gloss sealer. I just wondered – was I going to be kissing anyone on the lips?! So I added a second gloss coat.



I pulled on my wig tightly, a dark-blonde shade, layered, a below-the-shoulder style with a fringe. Together with my extravagant eye-make-up it brought out the colour of my blue eyes, not that it was going to matter much in the dark. I had decided to wear a pair of very large silver hoops in my ears together with a heavy studded silver necklet, and a matching bracelet on each wrist. I added all seven of my large glitzy silver rings, three on my left hand and four on my right.



OK. Lingerie. I totally LOVE lingerie.



My black lace-trimmed thong was new. I’d only worn it once before, usually I’d worn fuller panties, black of course but Vicky had shown me this special type of thong.



‘Specially made for trannies’ she’d said.



I could see why. It was quite sheer and fitted very snugly, the slightly-wider and concave front panel gently but firmly holding in my cock at the front. Perfect!



Then to get somewhere near a female figure I had decided to wear my black satin and lace bustier. It laced up at the front – very tightly indeed -and had eight garters altogether along the bottom. I pulled on a pair of fishnet stockings, loving the feeling as they slid up along my freshly-denuded legs, and stepped into my brand new black stilettos.



I slid my breast-form pads into place, I always enjoyed the feeling of large pendulous boobs, one day I’d use the adhesive and go bra-less. Hell, why go only half-way. I’d studied the instructions on the adhesive spray often enough, I checked them again and then went through the procedure meticulously, spraying, pressing into place, lying down for a couple of minutes, then smoothing just a little make-up over the upper edge of the breast-forms.



I was delighted with the result. I shivered as I looked at my outline in the mirror. I’d never worn such large breast-forms, these were some I’d bought quite a while ago and never really wanted to wear at home, preferring to go for realism. But this time I was out for effect.



The results were outstanding, literally, I just stood there gazing in awe at the 42-EE tits in front of me. Just for a moment I thought I’d gone too far but then I remembered Andrea’s mini-skirt comment. OK, so I just had to try to match that. I took the sheer white blouse from its hanger, having a little difficulty dealing with the tight gold buttons across my breasts. Again the tiny skirt was rather problematical but the end result was worth it. I stood there, maybe for a minute or two, posing, just looking at my voluptuous figure.



I knew time was beginning to run out so I grabbed my handbag and strolled across the room. I sensed the pull of my suspenders on my stockings and almost tripped in my haste in the very high heels. Then I gave my hair one final brush and looked for one final time into the large mirror on the wall. Bethany!



I dropped my keys, tissues, lipstick and some change into my handbag. I was damn near ready. I checked the clock. Perfect. Or as near perfect as I’d ever achieved before. Like any tranny I had an ambition, a fantasy, of being out and ‘passing’ as a woman, certainly I’d have loved the opportunity to do so in a sexual context. But again, like most of us, I knew that was very unlikely indeed? Did I really look like a woman? OR, more likely, like a man trying to dress as a very sexy woman?



However, whichever was the case, I had a ‘date’.



The next five minutes were scary, making sure I had everything including my house and car keys. And skipping very quickly, much more comfortable already in my stilettos, out of my front door and into my car. I’d reversed in earlier so I could drive straight out, and I didn’t stop until I was at least three miles from home. At that point I did stop, just for a minute, to collect my thoughts.



I was quite good at driving along in high heels, which surprised me. I even managed to get there a little early. Andrea had told me where to leave my car. Since the main gates of the park would be locked I had to stop about fifty yards along from there, just round a corner and off the main road. I looked at the car in front of mine in the little lay-by. We had exchanged some details about our cars and colours and registrations and so on. The Renault-205 I parked behind – it must be Andrea’s.



With nerves somewhat jangling, I got out of my car and blipped the alarm, then I set off about twenty yards down the road to the corner where Andrea had said the pedestrian gate would be. It was there, and it was unlocked. I hoped any late dog-walkers would have left already, clearly I was still very nervous.



The gate creaked just a little as I pushed it and went in. I headed towards the main buildings, a sort-of three-sided courtyard, not quite fully enclosed. And as I approached I saw someone. Sitting at one of the picnic tables in the centre of the yard. Just as I approached the late evening sun emerged from behind a cloud. The person sitting there rose at the sound of my high-heels on the concrete path. I looked. Red mini-skirt, it must be.



“Hello Andrea.”



He stood up. Yes, he. This person was a male person. I’d absolutely no illusions about my own appearance, I know that in the right light, or rather lack of it, in shadow, on a good day when my make-up has gone well and when the tightening and squashing effects of my corsetry are working to the full, I can NEARLY pass as a woman. If whoever sees me needs glasses, that is.



I’m not quite the ‘man-in-a-frock’, I can do a bit better than that. But a convincing woman? No. And Andrea was the same. Looking at him, alone in the small courtyard between the café and the museum and the park itself, in bright moonlight, I was looking at a male person in a miniskirt.



But an attractive male person, yes. It puzzled me that I thought that. Attractive? Could I possibly consider a man attractive? Well, actually, I could. Something to do with the care he had put into his own make-up. And the effort he had put into his own preparations, the high-heels, the tight skirt, the bulging bosoms, the wig, all that and more. The overall effect was – attractive.



“Hello Beth.”



The very first words spoken to me in real life as ‘Bethany’. And some sort of acknowledgement of the person I was trying to be. Andrea moved closer to me, holding out his hand. I took it, not in a formal man-to-man handshake, more a light clasp. In one sense, woman-to woman. He leaned towards me. We kissed cheek-to-cheek, in an overly effeminate way.



“Andrea, you look gorgeous!”



“And you do too, Beth, I love those tits!”



After those initial two compliments we just sat there on the bench, each of us with legs crossed to reveal an expanse of stocking-covered thigh, for nearly an hour. And talked. About our own TV experiences, very limited for both of us. And about what we liked about dressing in female clothes, about makeup and wigs and so on. And about our own fantasies. We both admitted that our innermost desire was to ‘pass’ as a woman, both in ordinary life and in a sexual situation with a man, basically we were both bi-curious but had never had the nerve to do anything about it.



And as time moved on, as we chatted, as the Sun slowly disappeared over the horizon, we moved closer. In both senses, already we were beginning to develop a friendship via our shared interests and ambitions. And physically too, we got closer. I began by holding Andrea’s hand, just stroking it gently, admiring his nails and the rings he was wearing. I became a little more adventurous, moving my leg across towards his so that our nylon stockings were in contact, and just slowly moving my own calf against his.



He began to moan a little as I continued.



“Is that nice for you? I asked, though the answer was obvious.



“Darling, it really is, I never realised just how delicious that could feel.”



He reached forward himself to caress my thigh and to begin to slide a hand up inside my skirt. I could feel my own reaction between my legs, I knew he was coming close to feeling it himself.



“Streuth, Andrea, that is SO good!!”



I couldn’t help myself, I didn’t want to stop, I wanted this to go on and on. I moved my head closer until my own lipstick-covered lips began to tenderly caress his. The feeling was just ecstatic, I could feel my own heartbeat pounding more and more as we became more intimate.



“Oh Beth, my darling” he moaned as we both moved our fingers tenderly across each others’ boobs. “I want you to….. oooH!!!”



“What’s wrong Andrea?”



“Wrong? Nothing, it’s just – wow – those tits, Beth, they’re gorgeous, that is SO gorgeous, that is so nice. Oh my God, that feels wonderful — gosh! Beth do that again! AGAIN!”



Andrea was shaking. I’d moved my left hand down over his waist and up inside his skirt again, I’d found the bulge in his panties. And I was enjoying myself too, stroking the bulge, feeling the contours, sensing the heat and the throbbing as I played with that delightful erection.

“You like that, Andrea, do you – OH YES!!!”



He’d moved his hand too, slid it up my skirt, found my throbbing cock, and now he too was stroking, probably a bit harder than I was, it felt a little uncomfortable but I didn’t mind.



“Christ, Andrea, keep that up, please, that is wonderful.”



So we did, we continued just for a minute or to explore each others’ balls and cocks, all the time staring into each others’ eyes between kisses, appreciating the experience of intimacy with a woman with a cock. Because that’s what Andrea was, a woman with a cock. As the Sun had gone down we were not able to make out each others’ features quite so well. The Moon was getting brighter though and my eyes were now telling me I was fondling a woman. But my hands were fondling a throbbing penis. This had to be – a woman with a cock.



I was loving it, so was she. But almost simultaneously we each decided to ‘withdraw’. Not for any moral reason, not because this was in some way wrong. I mean it was, married men don’t do that, don’t fondle other women, especially those with cocks. But we had been moving to a climax – two climaxes actually – too quickly.



“Andrea, my love. I do so want you. But not yet my darling, I want to make this last.”



She felt the same. We both stood and put our arms round each other, each groping the other’s arse, both wanting to maintain our lustful feelings as long as possible before – well, you know.



“Jeez, Beth, I never thought it could be like this, not this good, this feels just delicious. But please, let’s wait, let’s enjoy each other some more. I just HAVE to feel those boobs!. “



And we French kissed again. Tenderly. Lovingly. Slowly and sensuously, it was SUCH a good feeling. Then we stopped. We’d both heard it. Standing there in the dark, arms gently caressing each other, we both heard it and realised. We were not alone.



“Andrea. Did you hear…?”



“Yes.”



We were both whispering. I know what I was thinking, I had no doubt she was feeling the same. Who the hell is there? Late dog walker? Park keeper? Policeman even? I knew all about consenting adults, in private and all that. But really we weren’t in private. We were public. OK, in a secluded place and in semi-darkness as well, but still….



“Hello?”



The voice was clear. And it was masculine.



“Er – hello?” I replied, quietly.



We both looked towards the museum, the voice was coming from there, from that direction anyway. The figures slowly and hesitatingly walked towards us. One was muttering very quietly to the other. Two males. At first I couldn’t see clearly, they were in the moon’s shadow. I could just hear the muttering from one of them. Then the other spoke.



I had to think quickly. Two young men — making the acquaintance of two older ‘women’ in the park at night. There might be problems. They both seemed to be OK though, they were just standing side by side, almost staring at us. They were both carrying large bags. I asked quietly why they were there, in the park.



“Just taking a shortcut, after rugby practice, you know… We’re at the college. We’ve a game on Saturday.”



The voice was hesitant. The speaker and his friend moved forward, into the moonlight.



I took Andrea’s hand in mine and tugged her a little, walking towards the two intruders. Either they would accept us for what we seemed to be, or they’d run away. It was quite dark by then, I couldn’t make out her facial expression very well. I had to decide to make the best of this.



The second guy almost interrupted.



“Come on, Ricky. The guys will be waiting.”



“No, Martin. Jim’s gone home for the week. He went this morning. And Darren’s staying over at his girlfriend’s.”



“We share a student house…” explained the first man. Martin, that in, obviously. I knew the situation. In my own student days many years earlier I’d shared with about five other guys in my second and third years.



Then Ricky spoke again. His question surprised me. Andrea’s hand squeezed mine, it clearly surprised her too.



“Er – are you two – lesbians?”



“Er – Beth. What the hell do we do now?” whispered Andrea, leaning towards me.



I came up with a turn of phrase which would, I hoped, suffice.



“OK. Well, yes, we are lesbians in a way.”



“Wow. I’ve never met a lesbian before” said Ricky, the one who hadn’t spoken. “You look gorgeous.”



Now I know he couldn’t really tell, it was just becoming a little too dark to see really clearly. All he’d be able to make out, in both our cases, were our figures, maybe some of our clothes, and my earrings probably as they glistened in the moonlight.



“Er – thank you guys” I said.



And then – I just couldn’t resist it – I took two steps forward towards Ricky. I took his hand in mine, and I kissed him on the cheek.



“Yes, thank you” said Andrea.



The young men looked at each other . I’d deliberately kept my own voice gentle as I’d spoken, and so did Andrea though not quite so successfully.



“Jesus. I mean, you said sort-of lesbians. Are you really guys?” asked Martin.



Andrea had blown it. I can’t blame her though, I probably would have done in the next half-minute or so. I had to speak up.



“Sure we are. Have you ever met a lesbian transvestite before?”



“No.”



“No.”



They answered almost together. We’d been stood there for maybe two minutes in all, and it was getting a little chilly. I squeezed Ricky’s hand and smiled at him.



“Well, what do you think?”



“Like I said, you look gorgeous.”



He seemed hesitant, I think he thought I was going to kiss him again! The situation had changed, I realised that. But the two of them, their polite questioning, their whole manner, they really did seem so – sweet. I could see Andrea was moving closer to the other guy, probably spurred on by my own positive action. She was enjoying the situation as I was, I really didn’t want it to end there and then. But I knew we couldn’t continue our own heavy petting session. It’s not just that the ‘spell’ had been broken by the interruption, but the was another factor – two factors indeed – to consider.



“I’m so sorry, we haven’t introduced ourselves. This is Andrea, and I’m Bethany.”



“Er – I’m Martin.”



“And – er — Ricky.”



They were obviously both rather hesitant, understandably. I decided that, despite the vicarious fun I was having, Andrea and I needed to get out of this situation.



“Well, it’s been nice to meet you but we’d better be on our way. You can’t get through the arch, you know, it’s locked at this time.”



“Oh no” muttered Martin rather loudly. “Does that mean we’ve got to walk all the way round again?”



“No, we’ll show you the short cut to the exit gate” said Andrea.



I’d just thought of saying something like that but I’d hesitated, unsure of what Andrea’s reaction would be. But she had butted in, she had said it, obviously she was enjoying herself too and wanted the ‘adventure’ to continue. Maybe Andrea and I should have walked together, showing the guys the way, but she was ahead of me in other respects too. She had grabbed Martin’s hand and was leading the way. Ricky and I followed, again holding hands. I knew what I was feeling – sheer delight – I could only guess at Ricky’s motives. Probably just relieved at not having to walk all the way round the park again.



Andrea paused for a moment at the gate to allow Ricky and I to catch up, then we all four went through and onto the road. And into the full glare of the street lighting. And as we all stood there, Andrea was suddenly less certain. We were very definitely exposed. Fortunately there was very little traffic around, and no-one entering or leaving the houses on the street facing the park. I wondered if, before we headed towards our cars, we should try to kiss these two young men again. I looked at Ricky. He was staring at me.



“You like what you see, Ricky?” I asked in what I hoped was a rather coquettish tone.



“Oh yes” was all he replied.



But with enthusiasm, Andrea and I were clearly not the only ones enjoying the experience. I released his hand and began to move towards Andrea, my new lesbian transvestite friend. I was beginning to wonder if we could drive on to somewhere else and – do something.



I was still looking him in the eyes.



“Thanks for the chat. But you’d better be getting along, Ricky. I mean, your other housemates will be wondering where you are.”



“Actually they won’t, they’re both away. We’re on our own this evening. Unless you’d like to come in, for a drink, maybe? We’re in the white house — over there.”



He gestured towards a white-painted property on the other side of the road. Not a large house, maybe that explained why there were only four of them sharing.



I was amazed at the invitation. Obviously I had aroused some sort of interest in Ricky. And in Martin too, he was still standing very close to Andrea, still holding her hand tightly.



“Come on Martin, why not? It might be fun.”



Andrea was surprised at the comments, as was I. She moved to take my arm and pull me to one side for a moment.



“Bethany. What the hell? I mean, we can’t, surely, they’re only boys” she muttered quietly in my ear.



“They’re not boys, Andrea, they’re young men. OK so they’re not experienced and so on, but hey, can we pass up the chance? I mean, like we said earlier, they’re treating us like women. I don’t know about you but that comes so near to my biggest TV fantasy I’m willing to have a go. “



“Sure, I see what you mean. I just wish they were older.”



“But Andrea, I guarantee if they were older we’d be having all sorts of problems. They do seem both so young, so naïve. But what the hell, it’s just for a drink and a bit of posing and showing off. You know you want to, don’t you?”



“Yes I do. Really. OK, I’ll go along. At least we’re near the cars. We can make a quick getaway if we need to.”



We both turned towards the two young men who were waiting expectantly. They had been quietly muttering too. Maybe wondering just what they’d got into. Or even deciding who was going to get who. But I’d made up my mind, I moved towards Ricky and took his arm.



“OK then, what about this drink?”



Since I was rather more forthcoming than Andrea I’d decided to pair up with Ricky, the quieter of the two lads. That left Martin to make a move on Andrea, which he did, surprising me by sliding a hand round her waist to ease her towards the front door. We all went into the house, and all sat down together on the two large sofas in the living room, facing each other, myself next to Ricky and the other ‘couple’ facing us.



“Well boys” I began after Ricky had provided us all with drinks. “So you’ve never met lesbians before, or transvestites? So tell me, what do you think?”



I sipped my drink and looked across towards Martin.



“Like I said before, I think you look gorgeous. I mean, well, none of the girls at college has boobs like you do, specially yours, Bethany. And Andrea’s legs, streuth, they look just great. In that skirt, wow!”



I decided to continue the ‘role-play’ and see what happened. I got up and minced over towards him.



“And what’s wrong with MY legs?” I asked, trying to put on a mock hurt voice and moving very close to him so he couldn’t help but stare.



After all, my nylon-clad legs were only inches from his face.



“Er – nothing. Nothing at all. They look just great.”



At which Andrea joined in, swinging one leg up and across Martin’s own thighs.



“But you think my legs look OK?”



“More than OK, Andrea”



Martin was worried. OK, we’d been invited in but to an extent we were taking over. I wondered if we were going too far too soon. I looked at Andrea and I think she got the message.



“Martin. Come on, I need some ice for this drink. You know where the kitchen is?”



Which was a totally pointless question, at least as far as information-gathering was concerned. But that wasn’t the point. Andrea wanted to get Martin out of there. Which left me with Ricky, alone.



“You’re quiet Ricky.”



“Just enjoying the view” he quipped.



He was still staring at my boobs.



“Ricky. Do you want to see my breasts?”



He was surprised. Flustered. Unsure how to respond.



“Come on, I’m sure you’d like to. How many other girls do you know willing to show you their tits?”



“Er- none. But, I mean, real girls, I mean…”



“Real girls? What do you mean by that? Aren’t I a real girl?”



“Well, no, you said you’re a transvestite.”



“And can’t a transvestite be a real girl?”



He didn’t answer me, probably wondering at my weird logic. But I persisted. I moved closer to him, so he was staring deep into my cleavage.



“Do I look like a real woman?”



“Gosh, Bethany, of course you do. I mean, with the make-up and all, the long red nails, the legs and high heels, of course you do.”



I could see Andrea and Martin, they’d gone out from the kitchen into a sort-of-conservatory while we’d been refreshing our drinks. And they were sitting close to each other. Very close. I looked at Ricky.



“Andrea and Martin seem to be getting on well, don’t they?”



“Er – yes they do.”



He was worried. He’d seen how the other two were indeed getting on very well. We could both see through the doorway as Martin moved his hand across onto Andrea’s thigh. Sure Andrea was enjoying herself, but I knew I had to make the effort with Ricky. I reached over to take his hand and put it onto my own exposed nylon-clad thigh.



“Do you like that, Ricky?”



“Oh my gosh, wow, Bethany, I mean, that feels gorgeous, really….”



“Why thank you, Ricky” I cooed, trying to sound as sexy as I could. “That is such a nice thing to say, darling.”



I leaned across and kissed him quite gently, caressing his cheek with my lips, sliding them across to the corner of his mouth. I felt his heartbeat quicken.



“Bethany, I shouldn’t…”



“Why not, Ricky? I mean, aren’t you having fun, I know I am?”



“Well, sure I am but, geez, you’re a man and…”



“A man, Ricky?”



I sat quietly, rather demurely in front of him, our faces were only maybe six inches apart. He couldn’t help staring straight at me, seeing the make-up, the big eyes, the long thick black lashes, the big hair, the red lips. I slowly slid my tongue across my glossy lips.



“Ricky, do I look like a man? Or do I look more like a woman, Ricky?”



“Gosh, Bethany, you look like a woman. A gorgeous woman, I mean, the eyes, and the lips… oh my!”



I moved closer, just touching my lips to his ear, slowly touching with my tongue.



And in what I hoped would be a sexy whisper I asked “And do I sound like a woman, my darling?”



“Oh yes” he breathed. “You sure do.”



Now I moved even closer, taking his hand in mine and gently sliding my red-nailed fingers across it, moving so close but not touching his face.



“And do I smell like a woman?”



He had no choice as we moved even closer, he just had to inhale, to take in the scent of my ‘YSL Passion’.



“Oh Bethany, you smell gorgeous.”



I was breathing quite heavily by then. Something between my legs was bulging, trying to escape but still tightly trapped.



I took his hand and slid it up my body until he was cupping my enormous bra-covered right breast. I breathed in so that he could feel my ‘bosoms’ heaving under his caresses. Yes, he was stroking my boob, moving his hand to cup first one, then the other, I knew he was becoming aroused. I was getting to him!



“And do I feel like a woman, Ricky? Can you feel my big breasts, can you feel them moving under your gorgeous hands?”



“Christ, Bethany, yes. Yes!”



I had him. Without giving him time to think, without letting him consider logically what he was doing or who he was with – I knew I had to make the most of the hormones pulsing through his body, of the adrenalin coursing through his veins. I touched my mouth to his and slowly opened my lips, beginning to work at his, to tease him, to feel his lips with my tongue. I broke the kiss.



“And do I taste like a woman, my lover?”



He didn’t answer, he just moved in and kissed me again, forcing my own lips open with his as he carried on fondling my bulging breasts through my bra.



“Oh my God, Bethany, yes, oh yes, that is so good, so good.”



I let him carry on with the heavy petting for maybe half a minute. He was leaning on top of me, pressing my body into the couch, he was obviously very aroused indeed. Man or woman, he was so enjoying being with me. And me with him. But I wanted more. I wriggled a little to get my hands on his chest, managing to begin to take off his tie. We were both having difficulties, basically our limbs were getting in the way. I pushed him away, just a little, and began to unfasten his shirt, then sliding my fingers in to feel his muscular torso.



“Ricky. Would you like to undress me?”



Now I know I hadn’t really convinced him I was a woman, but I also knew he wanted more. In some way, that is, he was sexually aroused by my flirting and teasing. In no way could he stop there, he just couldn’t say no.



“Oh God, Bethany, yes.”



As I pulled his shirt off he began to unfasten the buttons on my blouse, then slid it right off and caressing my upper body once more.



“Haven’t you done this before, Ricky? Haven’t you undressed a girlfriend ever?”



“No, I never have.”



‘Streuth’ I thought. ‘Surely he can’t be a virgin!!’



“Well I think you should, my darling. You see the three little buttons at the front of my bra? Well, would you undo two of them for me, darling?”



This was all going so well, but I needed to keep up the momentum, again not to allow him to properly realise he was being seduced. I kissed him again.



“Please, my darling.”



His fingers were shaking as he undid the first button and my bosoms were released from their nylon prison, beginning to bulge out over the edges of my bra-cups. He was breathing so quickly now, I had to encourage him.



“And the second one, Ricky.”



He had difficulty this time, the button was tighter and his fingers really were trembling with excitement. As the second button popped open my bra-cups slid down a little to expose more of their burden, as the edges of my ‘nipples’ appeared teasingly revealed.



“Oh Christ, Bethany, they are SO beautiful.”



“OK Ricky, now take my skirt off. Come on, just undo the belt and pull down the zip ….. that’s it …. a little further …. oh yes, that feels so good Ricky my love ….. slide it down…… YES!”



I stood there, in bra and panties, stockings and heels, as exposed as I could possibly be without giving away my secret, I could feel my own organ straining inside my thong. I reached down to Ricky’s zip and pulled it down, quickly sliding his trousers down and revealing his very bulging shorts.



“And you, Ricky my love, you are DEFINITELY a man!” I cooed sexily, quickly sliding a hand in to grasp his erect cock as his shorts slid to the floor.



“And that is SO beautiful, Ricky.”



I shifted round a little on the couch so that I could kiss his engorged penis, so that I could slide my ruby-red lips over the swollen purple helmet. I felt for the very first time a man’s ardour inside my mouth. Ricky was moaning now, he was in heaven, and so was I.



“Ricky. I want to have sex with you. Would you like that?”



“Oh yes Bethany, YES!”



I hadn’t explained just how. It that situation, with his cock throbbing, he probably didn’t even consider how. And I didn’t want to give him time to think about it.



I leaned back on the couch and opened my legs as he lay on top of me and we petted some more as I guided his cock between my legs. We were both breathing heavily by then, his sweat was lubricating our bodies as his torso slid over my boobs. I tucked Ricky’s cock into the side of my thong and felt it slide – into what I hoped was just the right place. I kissed him again, and he pushed.



“Oh RICKY! MY LOVE!” I cried as he entered me, as the hot knob of his cock slid into me.

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