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New Girl in Town #3
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
From: [email protected].org (Jon Grossberg)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.erotica
Subject: Bobbi's Story (chapter 3)
Message-ID: <[email protected]>
Date: 5 May 92 04:22:38 GMT
Sender: [email protected] (Evan Leibovitch)
Organization: Somewhere just far enough out of Toronto
Lines: 667
Approved: [email protected]
Archive-Name: bobbi-03
(Note: the original author of these stories prefers to remain anonymous)
A W O R K I N G G I R L
It was Saturday night again, and Margo was looking to go out. I was
too. We had been living together for about two months now, and I was
established as one of the regular population of Drag Queens in New York
City. That was not a bad position to be in for now, but there was one
that I would much rather have had. That was as a real woman, and I
would get it no matter what it took.
Margo and I were as dressed up as we could be, and she was, as usual,
complaining that I took too long at it. Margo's alcohol problem was
getting worse if anything, and there was no living with her if there
was something standing between her and a drink. I was almost ready
anyway, so I put on my wrap, picked up my purse, and we were off to our
regular bar. I was looking forward to a good night, and Margo was just
not going to ruin it.
The atmosphere at "The Gilded Grape" was festive as ever. Some "gay
bars" in the Times Square area of New York City can be rather dingy and
sordid affairs, but this place always had a much higher class feeling
than the rest. It looked and acted more like an East Side club than
anything else in the area including many of the "straight" bars.
New York City has had a long succession of places where Drag was the
order of the day. It started with the old "Club 82" in the middle
1960's, and progressed through "The Gilded Grape", "The G.G.Knicker-
bocker" which was the old "Peppermint Lounge" of Chubby Checker and The
Twist fame, "G.G.'s Barnum Room", and ended with "The Grapevine" in the
early 1980's. They all had a slightly different ambiance, but "The
Gilded Grape" was always the one that was remembered. It was the best
of all!
Margo headed directly for our usual place at the bar at the rear of the
establishment where Emma held forth as Barmaid. Margo and Emma laun-
ched into conversation the instant we sat down, but just as fast there
was a white wine in front of me, and a vodka rocks for Margo. "I
always remember what my good customers drink," said Emma. I thanked
her, and sipped my drink like a lady.
Tonight was "Show Night." Once a month a number of the girls, and some
of their boyfriends would put together a small variety production on
the little stage. It was not Broadway by any means, but it was often
quite good, and I had always enjoyed it. "What's the show tonight,
Emma?," I asked over the din of music that always filled the place. "I
don't know," she replied. "Ask Tina."
I turned to where Emma had motioned, and saw another Drag Queen sitting
one stool away from me. "Did someone address me?," she said upon hear-
ing Emma call her name. "Are you Tina?," I asked, and she nodded. "I
was just wondering what the show was, and Emma said to ask you." Tina
moved to the stool next to me. "It's very good tonight," she began.
"We have a dance number by the 'G.G.Girls' chorus line, a guy who does
magic, and a sex-change singer who just cut a record. I hope you like
it."
I replied that I was sure that I would. Then Tina said, "We only have
one problem, and maybe you can help with it. I am the talent coordin-
ator, and I should have eight girls in the chorus line, but one is
leaving. I need another showgirl for future productions." I asked how
I fitted in with that, and Tina replied, "I have seen you a couple of
times in here with Margo. You're new, but you carry yourself well.
Would you like to be one of our showgirls? You don't get paid, but you
don't have to dance well, and it is a lot of fun!"
I thought: "why not"! I liked the way the men here looked at me, and
the idea of being ogled on stage was appealing. "All right!," I said.
"What do I do?" Tina told me that the next rehearsal would be on a
Tuesday evening in a couple of weeks, and I said that I would be there.
She also asked me to join her at a stageside table for the show. I
looked around for Margo, but did not see her. Emma called me over, and
whispered to me, "Margo has a trick. She went to the hotel with him.
She said to tell you she would be home later."
I watched the show with Tina, and she showed me where I would fit in,
and then introduced me to the other girls after the show. I got home
at about 1:30AM, and went right to bed. Margo got in at 4:00AM. She
had turned three tricks that night, and was drunk. She made some
noise, but did not intentionally wake me. I just lay back, and dreamed
of being a chorus girl.
Those first few weeks of my life as a woman flew by quickly. I concen-
trated all I could at being as much a woman as I possibly could be with
a penis tucked discretely between my legs in my crotch. I learned to
walk like a female, and even developed a gentle sway in my hips that
had male heads turning for blocks around whenever I walked down the
street. I liked being looked at that way, and the first time a man
actually whistled at me, my heart skipped a beat!
I had made it as a woman so far. I had gone beyond the level of just
Drag Queen. Anyone could be one of those. They were the ones who were
obviously men who dressed in women's clothing as a sexual turn-on for
themselves and/or their sexual partners. In Drag, I looked nothing at
all like a man, and in or out of Drag, I felt and thought like a woman.
I was not a man in a dress. I was a woman with a penis! I was only a
cruel joke of nature that had made me this way. I knew that I had to
change that, and become totally a woman in every way that I could. I
just did not yet know how.
I did know that the male job that I had as a stockboy in a famous 5th
Avenue department store was getting me down. I wanted to live totally
as a woman, but that was difficult when I had to dress in men's clothes
each morning for work. I compromised as best I could. I gave up
wearing any male underwear at all, and wore simple every-day lingerie
with a cotton camisole instead of a bra. I wore the most effeminate
male outer clothes that I could. I let my hair grow long, and had it
styled in one of the waviest of the unisex styles that were popular at
that time. I found a cologne that ran to the sweet side, but not as
sweet as perfume. I even had my name on all of my identification and
driver's licence changed to just my first initials and last name, but I
still had to live with the "M" in the little box marked "Sex" instead
of the "F" that I wanted so very much. I looked like the classic
"fairy", but it made me just that much closer to the woman that I
really was.
My appearance as a "fairy" did not go unnoticed by my co-workers. Most
shunned me as if I had some sort of dread disease. A few tolerated me,
the greater number ignored me, but a couple were outright hostile
toward me. One salesman with whom I had been friendly before now
avoided me at all costs. I was saddened by this, for he (his name was
Dave) was one who I thought would understand, and maybe help me bridge
the gap. He was a couple of years older than I, and was a philosophy
major at Hunter College. We had talked of homosexuality in the context
of philosophy, and I assumed he would be supportive. I missed our
talks very much.
I was a little surprised, however, at gaining a new friend in my new
role. I was befriended by our departmental secretary, Edith. We had
never been close before, but something about the "new" me seemed to
strike a responsive chord in her. She was about 45 years old, but
looked some years younger. She had long blonde hair with just a touch
of grey that she kept dome up in a bun. She had a truly magnificent
figure for a woman of her age, and I thought that she must have been as
much of a striking beauty in her youth as she was now. Edith had been
born in Estonia, and had fled that country with her mother soon after
it had been annexed by the Soviet Union in 1940. He accent was
delicate and haunting. I found myself drawn to her in a non-sexual way
that I could not explain. She did all that she could to encourage it.
My family could not accept the change in me. My father and I had never
been close. I had been a disappointment to him as a son. When he saw
what I had become, his macho homophobia kicked in, and he rejected me
out of hand. He was quite vocal about it all, calling me "That fucking
fairy!" to all within earshot. My mother at first tried to calm him,
but a gesture with the back of his hand stopped her. He had beaten her
once in the past that I knew of, and she would not risk it again. My
sister seemed more supportive, but too young to show it in outward
defiance of our father. That left me isolated from my family. It hurt
me deeply.
My new appearance as a "fairy" at work also caught the notice of the
Personnel Department. One of the Assistant Personnel Managers began to
take more than a passing interest in me. His name was Paul. It had
always seemed like he looked familiar, but I could not place why. I
found out soon enough.
I was at "The Gilded Grape" on Friday night sitting alone at a table. I
was dressed in a new powder-blue cocktail dress that hugged my curves
seductively. I was just in the mood for meeting someone new when a man
sat down at the table with me. I did not look at him at first, but I
thought to myself that I could use the cash from turning a trick that
night, so if that was what he wanted, that was just what he was going
to get. I looked at him to say hello, and swallowed hard! It was
Paul!
He smiled, and said, "Hello. I've seen you around here before. Could
I buy you a drink?" I accepted. Maybe he had not recognized me. It
could be a kick to turn a trick with him, but I would have to be care-
ful. Paul was married. He was one of the men who came into the bar
looking for a "change" from their wives. Now I knew where I had seen
him before, and why he had taken such an interest in the new me at
work. I calmed down a little. This might be fun!
The waitress brought our drinks. As I sipped mine, Paul said, "I've
been coming here for quite a while, but I've seen very few girls like
you. You're very pretty. You look more like a painting than a girl."
I thanked him for the compliment, and we made small talk for a while.
Then Paul finally said, "I'd like to get to know you a little more
privately." I leaned over to him, and whispered, "We could go out for
a while. It will cost you twenty-five dollars, and ten dollars for the
room." He agreed, and I led the way out of the bar.
I took him to the Alva Hotel a few blocks away. It was just another of
the seedy hotels that dotted the Times Square area. They rented more
rooms by the hour than by the night. Paul registered us as another "Mr
& Mrs Smith", and we went to our room. This was not the first, nor the
last trick I would turn, but I was excited over fooling Paul this way.
I liked being a hooker.
Paul knew the procedure. I had barely locked the door behind us when
he handed me two tens and a five. "Would you like to spend a little
more, and stay longer?," I asked in my most seductive voice. "No, not
this time," he answered. "I'll just take a blow-job for now." That was
all right with me. "Okay," I said. "Take off your pants!"
Paul dropped his pants, and tossed them over the chair. I was mildly
impressed when he took off his briefs. He had about six and a half
inches of circumcised cock-meat hanging there, and it looked clean,
smooth, and delicious! This would be even more fun than I had thought.
One of the best parts of being a prostitute was getting a taste of a
really nice cock once in a while, and Paul's cock looked very tasty!
I slipped the straps of my dress off my shoulders, and stepped out of
it. Paul looked at me in just my lacy powder-blue bra, panties,
garter-belt with sheer stockings, and white shoes, and his cock came to
attention! He took me into his arms for a kiss, and I took hold of it.
It felt as nice as it looked, so I played with it for a minute. Then I
led him into the bathroom, soaped up my hands, and gave his cock a good
washing. A working girl has to be careful, and it was going in my
mouth after all.
"Take down your panties," he asked. "I want to play with you while you
suck me." I did as he asked, and my penis popped free. From the smile
on his face, I could tell he liked what he saw!
Paul lay on his back on the bed in the cheap hotel room, and I kneeled
on the bed next to him. His hand was on my penis immediately, but he
touched it gently. He played with it like a man playing with a woman's
clit. He was not rough with it like some of the men I had sex with.
His touch felt very good, and although most of the time I did not want
my lovers to touch my penis, and break the illusion that it was nothing
more than a distended clit, I really liked the way he touched it. This
blow-job really would be fun!
I bent over, and took the length of his cock into my mouth. It tasted
as good as it looked, and Paul sighed deeply with pleasure. I let his
cock slip from my lips with a delicious popping sound. His hand
continued rolling my five inch "clit" of a penis between its thumb and
forefinger sending little shivers of excitement all through me. I was
hard by that time, and growing harder by the second. If he would use
just a little more pressure, and moved just a little faster, I could
get off too, but he was paying for this, so it was the client's
pleasure that was important, and not the prostitute's.
I nibbled gently at the underside of his cock, and Paul's whole body
stiffened. He was very responsive to all my ministrations, and it was
obvious that he was enjoying the blow-job I was giving him. I moved
lower on his cock, and flicked at the ball sack that hung below with
just the tip of my tongue. Paul was moaning audibly now, and squirming
beneath me on the bed. I licked his balls for some moments, and even
took one into my mouth to taste. I could have gone on with this for a
very long time, but there was a time limit on the room, and I had to
get him off before the limit ran out, but he tasted so very good!
With a bit of disappointment that this would have to end, I took Paul's
cock into my mouth to administer the coup de grace. He shivered with
pleasure as my lips enwrapped the head, and slid down the length of the
shaft. I really wanted to please him. I did a "deep throat" on him,
and swallowed each time his cock reached the back of my throat. That
way my glottis massaged the head of his cock sending further shivers of
ecstasy through him. I then tightened the grip of my lips around his
cock, and pumped it in and out of my mouth increasing the speed of it
as I went.
Paul's cock throbbed in my mouth, and I knew that I would soon reap the
rewards of my efforts. I braced for the first spurt of cum that I just
knew would be forcefully gushing into my mouth. Paul took a deep
breath, held it for a moment, and then let it out in a long moaning
sigh. As he did that, his semen started filling my mouth. It did not
shoot in hard spasms as I had expected, but poured out slowly in one
long gentle but relentless stream. Its warmth filled my entire mouth
before I realized what was happening. There was so much that I am sure
it would have trickled out of my nose if I had not swallowed the first
half of his load while he was still cumming!
The outpouring of semen from Paul's cock finally stopped, and I let the
shaft slip from my lips. He looked up at me with pleasure in his eyes
while I tasted the sweet saltyness of the load of cum that filled my
mouth, and then swallowed it all. I never waste a drop! I bent back
down to lick his cock and balls clean one last time, and he let go his
finger grip on my penis. I really wanted some release too, but it was
not to happen then for this working girl. I lay down next to him, and
he kissed me gently. I would have liked to spend the night with him,
but that was all he had paid for.
I lay in Paul's arms for a little while, and played with his cock as it
softened. I really wanted him to fuck me, but the trick was done. I
kissed him on the cheek, and said, "We should get dressed now," to him
softly. We reluctantly got out of bed.
Paul asked me to let him dress first, and pose for him in just my bra,
garter-belt, and stockings. Prostitutes do not usually do that for
their "Johns", but I wanted to please him. "Are you going back to the
G.G.?," I asked. "No," he said. "I have to go now. Can I see you
again?" I moved to another pose, and replied, "Sure! I am at the G.G.
most nights. I will see you there." He nodded, and finished dressing.
He reached down, and touched my dress that was lying on the chair. I
did not know why then, so I just kissed him good-bye, and let him out.
Alone now in the room, I picked up my panties, and began to get dres-
sed. I had a problem. Paul had excited me so much that my penis was
rock hard. I wanted to at least masturbate, but there was not enough
time left on the room to do it. I had to leave here soon. It took as
much concentration and effort as I could muster to get it tucked back
between my legs into my crotch. It hurt that way, but there was no
other was that it would not show. I really hated having a penis most
at times like these. I so longed to be rid, once and for all, of that
useless lump of flesh. I had to find a way to do it!
I adjusted my breasts in my bra, and picked up my dress. Something
fell out of the folds of the dress, and onto the floor. I picked it
up, and found that it was a five dollar bill. Paul must have slipped
it into the dress when he touched it on the way out. He had left me a
tip! In those days, thirty dollars for a blow-job and a kiss was a
pretty good price. Paul must have enjoyed what he had gotten. It made
me feel good. I put it in my purse, and put on my dress. A quick
adjustment to my hair and make-up, and I was out the door. This
working girl had done well so far tonight.
I walked back to "The Gilded Grape" with my high-heels clicking happily
on the pavement. I passed a couple of Drag Queens that I knew on 8th
Avenue. They were trying to pick up a trick or two out there with all
the "real-girl" street walkers. I waved a greeting, but did not stop.
I had never turned a trick on the street, and I wondered what that
would be like. I would have to try it sometime.
My new friend Tina was sitting at the front bar when I walked back into
"The Gilded Grape". I sat down on the bar stool next to her. "How was
he?," she asked. I looked at her with a puzzled look. "That guy!,"
she said. "I saw you leave with him, so I assumed you were going to
turn a trick." I ordered a drink, and said, "Oh, I didn't know you saw
us. He wasn't bad, but he got me horny as hell!" Tina smiled knowingly
at me. "I know the feeling," she replied.
We sipped at our drinks, and Tina asked, "We have a rehearsal for the
'G.G.Girls' chorus line on Tuesday. Did you get the leotard I told you
to?" I had bought it that week. "Yes," I said. "I got a red one, and
the other things too." Tina set her drink down. "I'd like to see it,"
she said. "This place is boring tonight. Why don't we go to your
place, and see what you have?" Margo was spending the night with a
boyfriend, so I said, "All right. That sounds better than sitting
here." We left the bar, and went to my apartment. I was about to
start my career as a showgirl. I was excited, but still horny!
Tina had not been to the apartment that Margo and I shared before, so
there was the usual ten minutes of showing her around, punctuated with
the usual polite comments about "how nice everything looked" from her
when we arrived. She finally took a seat in one of the living room
chairs, and I offered her a drink. When I brought it Tina said, "Why
don't you change into that leotard, so we can see what you look like as
a chorus girl?" I got a tingle of excitement when she said "chorus
girl"! I was excited about being one of the "G.G.Girls"! I said,
"Okay!," and went to my bedroom to change.
Tina waited for me in the living room, so I could make a grand entrance
in my rehearsal clothes. The management of "The Gilded Grape" supplied
the show costumes, so I did not have anything fancy, but I was looking
forward to posing for Tina in what I had. I stripped to the skin when
I was alone in the bedroom, and looked at myself in the full-length
mirror. I let my penis pop from its tuck in my crotch. I was still
horny from my session with Paul, and with the excitement of the moment
now, it was still about half hard. I wanted to masturbate, but Tina
was waiting for me, so that would have to come later. I hated my
penis! I had to find a way to be rid of it somehow.
I took out my rehearsal clothes, and started to get dressed. These
were work clothes, so there was a minimum of frills and lace, but they
were sexy enough to make me feel quite feminine anyway. The outfit
started with a pair of plain pink nylon panties with a little extra
stitching in the crotch to help keep my penis tucked safely away during
the high-kick numbers. Over this I put on a pair of sheer-to-waist
nylon tights.
I put on a lightweight, but padded pink bra. I filled out what was
missing in my bra cups with a trick that Tina had suggested. These
were two small plastic bags filled with birdseed! They filled out my
breasts, but were pliable enough to mould to the shape of my bra, so
they looked natural. They also bounced and jiggled like real breasts
when I moved. After wearing these for a while, I covered the plastic
with a cover made from a male undershirt. That way my chest would not
sweat so much when I wore them.
The crowning touch of the outfit was a red jersey leotard, with, of
course, no legs, short sleeves, and an almost daring scoop to the neck-
line. I tied a pink and white scarf around my waist for a belt, and
stepped into a pair of black leather dancing shoes with a two and a
half inch heel. Then I tied my hair into a side pony-tail with another
pink and white scarf.
I looked at myself in the full-length mirror again. I really did look
like a showgirl! My penis twitched a bit in its tuck. I was still
very horny, and I was excited over what was happening. I could hardly
wait to show Tina.
I opened the bedroom door, and stepped into the living room. Tina
looked up when I entered. She looked very pleased at what she saw, but
there was something else in her eyes as well. I could not put my
finger on what it was, but I liked the way she looked at me. I just
enjoyed the fact that she seemed to like what she saw.
"Bobbi!," Tina exclaimed. "You look wonderful! That is exactly the
look that I want for the 'G.G.Girls' in every way! I just knew it when
I asked you to do this. You should fit in very well indeed." I got
little butterflies in my stomach when she said that. It was really
going to happen. I was going to be a chorus girl! Tina asked me to
walk and pose for her. I did it willingly. I was really enjoying
this!
After a few minutes of directing me, Tina got up to stand with me in
the living room. She looked me over very carefully, taking her time
with every bit of me. She bounced my titties with her fingers, and
the little friction of my falsies against my chest made my nipples
harden. She ran her hands down my curves, and over my bottom. I was
already horny as hell, and her examination only heightened that! It
seemed for a second that this was more than a simple theatrical
examination. It felt like she was feeling me up! Then she stopped,
and stood next to me.
"Let's try a couple of dance moves," she suggested. I followed her
lead, but it was not easy at first. Men do not usually move that way,
but I worked had at it, and soon I was almost able to keep up with
her. I had the most problem with the high-kick. Tina showed me how
to use the back of the sofa as an exercise bar to stretch my
hamstrings, but it would be a few months before I could move the way
she did. At last Tina called for a rest, and we both sat on the sofa.
"You move very well," Tina said as she caught her breath. I thanked
her for the compliment. "You could be really good if you worked at
it. Have you thought about dancing lessons?," she asked. I had not
considered it, but the idea intrigued me. Tina continued, "I have a
friend who runs a school. She's a dyke, but she takes Drag Queens as
students. I'll give you her card." Tina took a business card from her
purse, and handed it to me. Her fingers brushed mine as she did, and
she smiled deeply at me. I took the card, but I wondered what the
smile meant.
Tina lit a cigarette, and spoke again, "I have an idea for a skit that
I would like to try sometime at the G.G. You might just fit in. How
about a costume change, so we can see?" I nodded in agreement, and
Tina rose to lead the way to my bedroom.
"What sort of skit do you have in mind?," I asked as we entered the
bedroom. Tina's eyes explored me once again before she answered,
"It's a comedy skit, and it's set in a bedroom. Two of the boys want
to do it, but I need a pretty girl in a nightie as 'window dressing'
to back them up. Do you have a sexy, but not too revealing nightie?
Remember, we're on stage, so it shouldn't show too much." I went to
my bureau, and took out a pink nightie of a waltz length with a
matching semi-transparent nylon robe. "That's perfect!," Tina
exclaimed. "Let me see what you look like in it."
Tina sat on the upholstered chair in my bedroom, and watched me strip.
That did not help my horniness very much either! I like being looked
at as a woman, and Tina's gaze was as much a turn-on as any. I had
not dreamed that she could be sexually interested in me, but as I
watched the way her eyes followed my every move, I became aware that
she was taking more than a "professional" interest in me. In a
strange way, I liked that too! Maybe Tina was a Lesbian Drag Queen
who preferred other Drag Queens as sexual partners. I had a hunch I
was about to find out.
I now stood in Tina's view wearing just my bra and panties. I
unhooked my bra, and watched her eyes flash as my small breasts
appeared. She was enjoying this, and frankly so was I! I dropped my
bra on the bureau, and reached for the elastic of my panties. I
turned back to face Tina, and stripped them off. Tina smiled broadly,
and took a deep drag on her cigarette. "You're even more beautiful
than I thought!," she said with a note of real sincerity in her voice.
I smiled, and stood there in the nude for a minute while she drank it
in. I turned, and donned the pink nightie. Tina still just stared at
me.
I stood in my bedroom in my pink nightie while Tina watched me. I did
a turn for her, and let the nightie flare out as I did. "That's it!,"
exclaimed Tina. "That's the look I want for the skit! You're a
natural, Bobbi!" She really meant what she said too, as I would find
out as time went on.
Tina looked at me for a little while longer. Then she stood, and
walked over to me. "You really are very beautiful," she said softly
as she slipped her arm around my shoulders. I looked into her eyes,
and her lips pressed to mine. I melted into Tina's arms as she
whispered, "I wanted you the first moment I ever saw you." Our
tongues played tag with each other as we fell onto the bed.
Tina's hand moved straight to my crotch. "There's one part of you I
haven't seen yet," she cooed into my ear as she nibbled at the lobe.
"I'll bet it's just as pretty as the rest of you." I spread my legs
for her, and she took hold of my penis. "Mmmm... that is nice!," Tina
said as she played with it. "Would you like to see mine?"
Tina stood up. I lay on my back on the bed with my fully hard penis
making a tent in my pink nightie. She lifted the hem of the nightie
to my waist, so she could look at my penis. She sighed audibly, and
just stared at it.
Tina did not strip, but turned her back, and lifted her skirt to
remove her panties. Tina faced me again, and raised her skirt to
expose her own penis. I got a shock when I saw it. Tina was hung!
Tina had nine inches of penis standing straight out from her crotch!
My own penis throbbed even more when I saw it. I was horny ever since
I gave Paul that blow-job. The sight of Tina's penis made me even
more so! I had to touch it, so I reached toward her. Tina kneeled on
the bed, and I played with her penis while she played with mine.
"I want you now!," ordered Tina after a minute. She grabbed my hips,
and moved me to a kneeling position with my head down on the pillows.
Tina reached for the jar of Vaseline on my night stand, and lubricated
her penis. She kneeled between my legs, and lifted my nightie to
expose my bottom. She caressed it, and then spread my asscheeks to
position her penis at my anus.
Tina pressed forward, and pushed the head of her penis into my ass.
She continued to push until she had run all nine inches of the shaft
deep into my bowels. It felt bigger than it looked, but in the state
I was in, it felt wonderful! Tina pumped her penis in and out of me,
and she pumped hard. Tina made love only one way, and that was full
out and uninhibited, but she was good at it!
Tina rammed her penis into me for at least twenty minutes. I felt
like I was on fire with her! She could fuck harder than anyone I ever
knew! I could do nothing but press my face into the pillows, and let
her ride me as she willed. I glanced into the mirror, and saw her
fully dressed over me with her head thrown back in ecstasy! She was a
wild woman now totally unleashed!
Tina then gave out a gurgling moan, and her penis throbbed hard within
me. I felt the familiar warmth grow deep inside of me, and I knew she
was cumming, and cumming hard! Her hot semen filled me up, and she
fell away from me with some of it glistening on her penis. I
stretched out on the bed next to her, and just lay there on my stomach
sweating and panting, totally spent.
Tina arose after a moment to get a towel to clean us both off. Then
she lay next to me, and took me in her arms for a kiss. Her hand went
back to my still hard penis. I was exhausted, but still with no
release. Tina sensed that right away.
Tina and I lay on the bed in each other's arms while she played with
my hard penis. She was still fully dressed except for her panties,
and I was wearing my pink nightie. When we had caught our breath,
Tina stood, and took my hand. She gently pulled me up to stand with
her. She kissed me again, and said, "We have one more matter to
attend to." She moved me so that I stood with my back against the
wall. "Stay there," she ordered quietly.
Tina kneeled on the floor in front of me, and raised the hem of my
nightie. My penis pointed straight at her face. She flipped my
nightie over her head, and took my penis in her mouth. She sucked it
in the same manner that she had fucked me earlier, and that was hard
and fast! Every couple of strokes Tina would run her tongue around
the head. I stiffened against the wall in passion. I had never had a
blow-job like this before. Try as I might to hold back, I could not!
Tina released the grip of her right hand from my thigh to tickle my
balls, and I shot the load of cum that had been building all evening
down her waiting throat! She swallowed it all, and then licked me
clean.
Tina reappeared from beneath the hem of my nightie, and stood up. I
was still too dizzy from all that had happened to do anything except
lean on the wall for support, but I managed to say, "Thank you." Tina
smiled, and helped me to the bed. It was after midnight, so I asked
her to stay the night. She agreed, and I offered to get her a night
gown, but she declined. "I always sleep nude if you don't mind," she
said. I just nodded. I was too spent to get up to get the night gown
anyway.
Tina stripped while I watched this time. Her panties had come off
long ago, so her bra was the last thing she took off. She had a very
good figure for a woman with a nine inch penis who could fuck the way
she did, but I got another surprise when she removed her bra. Tina
had real breasts! They were not just the smallish "male" breasts that
Margo and I had, but real female type breasts!
Tina noticed me staring at them right away, and said, "Do you like
them?" She cupped her breasts with her hands to hold them up, so I
could see they were real. "Would you like to feel them?," she asked.
I nodded, and Tina joined me on the bed. "How big are they?," I asked
as I touched them. "They're 36C!," Tina replied.
I fondled Tina's breasts, and weighed them on my hands. "How did you
get them!?," I exclaimed excitedly! Tina was obviously pleased with
my attentions to her breasts. She lay back on the bed, and said,
"Well, I started with hormone cream, but that wasn't enough, so about
a year ago I had silicone implants put in. It only takes three days
at the hospital."
I knew then that I had found the next answer to my question of how to
become more a woman. Tina said she would give me the name of her
doctor in the morning. I would have real breasts at last! All I had
to figure out was what to do about my penis. I wanted to be rid of
it. Maybe Tina's doctor would know about that. I would have to ask
him. We drifted off to sleep with me still playing with Tina's
breasts.
I woke up the next morning, and looked over at Tina in the bed next to
me. She was still asleep, but uncovered, and totally nude. I could
not help staring at the way her breasts looked. I had seen pictures
of nude women, and I had been to a striptease show a couple of times,
so I knew what a real woman's breasts should look like. Tina's looked
very real! I had, however, only seen one woman's breasts up this
close before in my life.
= = * = =
The incident had happened after a party when I graduated from high
school. We all had been drinking quite a bit of beer, and out
inhibitions were down. There was a girl named Joyce in my class who I
was friendly with. I knew that she was interested in me in a more
than platonic way, but we never actually dated. We would talk, and go
shopping together. I always envied the clothes she wore, and the way
she looked. We were more like two girlfriends than anything else.
She always defended me when the others laughed at me.
I was standing alone when Joyce took my hand. "Come with me!," was
all she said. She led me to a bedroom, and locked the door behind us.
She turned to me, and said, "We've always been good friends, and I
can't stand it when they make fun of you. Laurie bet me that you are
a queer, so I have to find out for myself!" With that she took off
her blouse, and unhooked her bra! Her breasts spilled out in front of
me. They were big and round like the pictures in the magazines. I
wanted them, but not in the way she had hoped. I wanted them on me!
"Feel them, damn it!," she ordered! I reached out to touch them.
They were heavier than I had expected. I examined them carefully, but
a little too clinically for Joyce. She pulled back with tears welling
up in her eyes. "You are queer!," she shrieked, and threw herself on
the bed crying. I tried to comfort her, but she would have none of
it. "Get out of here, you damned queer!," she screamed!
I left to find Laurie and another girl in the hall laughing at me. I
would soon be the laughing stock of the party. I left the party right
away. I was glad that I would not see any of them again!
= = * = =
Tina awoke to find me staring at her. She smiled and stretched. "You
really like them, don't you?," she asked. I nodded. I looked further
down at Tina's nine inch penis. "Are you going to have the whole
change?," I asked. "No," Tina replied. "I like my cock, but I like
being a woman too. It is just a permanent dildo to me, but my doctor
does that operation too. You should talk to him about it if you are
interested."
Now I wanted the name of that doctor more than ever! At last I had
found a way to get rid of this penis of mine that I hated so much. I
did not care what it took, or what it cost. I wanted my penis cut
off! I wanted to be a woman!
I got up, and made breakfast for us. Tina gave me the name of the
doctor over coffee. She explained very briefly about how the implant
operation she had on her breasts went. It apparently involved an
incision beneath each breast, so that a plastic bag containing a
silicone jell could be inserted to lift the "male" breast out from the
body. She showed me the hairline scars that the operation left. They
were totally unnoticeable unless you were looking for them. She also
suggested that I ask the doctor about hormone treatments to help them
heal, and even grow a little more on their own. I told her that I
wanted it done right away. She laughed, and wished me luck.
Tina went home after breakfast, but first reminded me about the
rehearsal on Tuesday. I assured her that I would not forget. I tried
all that day to imagine myself as a chorus girl with real breasts
jiggling as I danced. I very much enjoyed the thoughts!
--
Jon Grossberg - Internet: [email protected].org FidoNet: 1:107/565
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