Date: Sat, 26 Aug 2000 08:57:20 GMT
From: meno philist <menophilist@hotmail.com>
Subject: Not Really a TV Story

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.