An Afternoon with Mother (A short essay)             by: Deborah Leigh Johnson

 

Confusion was the word that described my feelings better than anything else, as I sat here, in my mother’s living room, of the big old country home that I had grown up in.

I’d been away from home for three years now, because, I just knew that if I went home, I would do what I was doing this minute. I just knew that I loved those old feelings just too too much to resist it.

I plucked daintily at the ruffled hem that tickled my nyloned knee. Oh, how I loved this. I was so ashamed of my inner feelings, but, I loved this and craved this feeling of being pretty. My dress was a light orange color, with wide ruffled shoulder straps. It was a sun dress, with a wide tight waist band. It had been three years since I had last worn it.

I could hear my mother in the kitchen, humming as she prepared a light lunch for us. I was very aware of the pressure of the high instep of the three inch heeled sandals I wore on my feet. I felt, constantly, the caress of my satin panties, the tight fingered grip of my corsetry, and the dainty jewelry that adorned my neck, wrists and ears. I could smell my perfume. I could sense the halo of curls my shoulder length hair framed my pixie face with. My silk slip rustled delicately across my nyloned thighs, as I stood and went to the kitchen.

In the kitchen, I dropped a ruffled pink apron over my head, and tied the big bow at the back. "Can I help out with anything, Mom?" "No, you just relax. Now, take off that apron, and get out of my kitchen. You should know by now that two women in a kitchen is a ready formula for trouble."

"Okay." I removed the apron and went out onto the front porch to look once again at the beautiful scenery. A slight wind was teasing at my skirt hems.

I resigned myself. I knew that I never wanted to be a boy again. Girls clothes were just too exciting, to ever settle for anything less again. I was thankful that my mother understood me and that she had insisted, almost from the moment I walked in the door, that I go up to my old room and change into something more natural for me. I had not resisted. I’d willingly doffed masculinity, and gratefully once again, accepted my feminine role in my mother’s house.

My room had not been changed. The pink canopied bed with its lace trimmed skirts, still dominated the room. The pictures of ballet dancers, were still on the walls. My dolls were seated prettily on the satin pillows of the bed. The vanity that I’d spent my formative years before, was still there, with all the necessary cosmetics to make me as feminine as I could be.

Three years ago, I had left home, in a desperate attempt, to, for once in my life, try to be a male. I’d enrolled in college, and I had been a miserable failure. I’d been a failure, not in my marks. I had received my degree, one year early, but, in my ability to adjust to living as a boy. It had been worse there, trying to live as a boy, than it had been growing up in a household of eight brothers, where they all knew I was a boy, but, was cast in the role of the baby sister.

When I was born, I was the last in a long line of boys. I was also very small and delicate. My mother could have no more children, and, she convinced my father, somehow, that he should agree to letting her dress me as her little daughter, for just the years before school. Unbeknownst to him, mom would go to the barn once a week, and get a small jar of the hormone creams that were used on the cows.

The result was, that by age seven, when I should have joined my brothers in school, my hair was long enough for me to sit on it. My facial features were not that of a boy. I had a delicate frame. I still did not even know that I was a boy.

My brothers knew, but they did not tell me. I grew up, being treated like a girl in a house of men, under a special umbrella of protection and favor, of a rather domineering mother. Because of my obvious feminine orientation, my father accepted the fact that I was more of a girl than a son. He let mom enroll me in school as a girl. My bothers disliked the favoritism that was poured out on me.

I did not do chores, like they did. I was allowed to stay in the house all the time, and help my mother. I was encouraged to wear pretty and soft clothing, unlike them. Mom encouraged me to learn how to run a home, to read, to paint and to study music. We were not rich, and, I was the only one allowed to take music lessons. She encouraged the artistic nature that I had, with special classes in poetry, prose and artwork. By the age of fifteen, I could make my own dresses, lingerie, cook, crochet, needlepoint and knit with a fair amount of alacrity.

Because my brothers resented the special treatment that I got, I did not get along with them at all. They would not let me join their games or anything like that. In fact, whenever I did try, Mom got very mad at me, and made me stop playing boys games. If I did not spend time with my mother, I was alone. I guess that was why I did spend so much time with her. I wanted to be just like her, she was so competent and, pretty. It just seemed that she was the wisest person in the whole world, to me, and, she was greatly respected by the men in the house. I grew up thinking that the womanly role in a home was the most valued role in life, and I just wanted to do every thing that I could, to be just like her.

She continued having me rub that special cream into my chest area, every night, for as long as I was at home. The result was, I had very small genital development, breast development, almost no hair on my body, and, my voice never changed.

I learned that I was a boy, when I was thirteen. One of my brothers, Bobby, about three years older than I, started to become very friendly with me, shortly after I started to develop my breasts. One afternoon, a very hot summer afternoon, Bobby and I were alone at home.

I was laying on my bed, in a shorts and halter, sandals, and my hair was pulled back in a ponytail. I was laying on my tummy, reading a novel.

Bobby came into my room, and sat on the bed. He did not say anything, but, I sensed somehow, that this was going to be something different. It was. He reached over, put his hand on my bum, and gently rubbed my cheeks. It felt so nice. It was certainly the nicest that any of my brothers had ever been to me. His hand moved around my bum, delightfully slowly.

I waited to see what he would do next. His fingers went down between my legs, and gently rubbed my private. It got hard under his fingers manipulations. I moaned, and rolled over onto my back. I closed my eyes and let him do whatever he wanted to. His fingers gently rolled my erect nipples, driving me wild.

Then, his hand went to the front of my red shorts and began, again, to rub my private. I could not help myself. I shuddered uncontrollably, and pushed myself up into his hand. Then, the most glorious sensation washed over me, as I began to release something into my panties. I felt like I was on a pink cloud, and it took many minutes for me to settle back to normal.

"Bobby, why did you do that?" "Did you like that, Karen?" "I adored it. Can that happen all the time?" "Lots of times. I just wanted to see if you would act like a boy or a girl." "Why wouldn’t I act like a girl?" "Because, you are a boy. In fact, you are the only one who does not know it. You are a guy."

"I am not." But, I knew, deep down within me, that it was true. "Listen, Karen, you are a boy. I’ll prove it to you. You have a cock, just like mine. I just jacked you off, just like any boy gets off." With that, he stood up, and took off all of his clothes. He stood totally naked in front of me. Except for the hair, and the flat chest, he was a lot like me. He also had an erection. I was fascinated by it. It was ugly and horrible, but, I was fascinated. I wanted to feel it. I wanted to kiss it. I wanted to suck on it. I was amazed, as I had never had thoughts or feelings like that before. I could not take my eyes off it.

"I bet you feel like a girl, though, don’t you?" "What do you mean?" "I bet you would like to feel it, maybe give me a blowjob?" "What is a blowjob, Bobby?" "It’s where a girl takes a guy’s cock into her mouth and sucks him, till he cums. Then she swallows it. I bet you’d like to give me a blowjob, just like any other girl, even if you are a guy, wouldn’t you?" "Yes, I would."

"Okay, kneel down in front of me. Good Girl. Now, first wrap your hand around it...no...like this. Now, see this spot right here, under the head, well, I want you to rub it with your thumb...oh yeah...just exactly like that."

It was so very hot, hard, and, yet, it was satiny smooth. It jerked wildly in my hand when I touched it the way that he wanted me to touch it. I liked making it react like that. I looked up and saw a look of total bliss on Bobby’s face. I wondered if he felt like the way that he had made me feel. "Now, Karen, you have to kiss it, and lick the head, kind of like a lollipop." When I did as he told me, he nearly screamed with what I was making him feel. I loved having such a control over him.

"Oh...Baby...you are one fine cocksucker. Ahhhh...Now, pretty one, I want you to open your mouth and take it inside of your mouth. Do it slowly....take it as far in as you can...that’s the girl."

Soon, I had it so far inside of me, that my nose was in his sweaty smelling pubic hair. He was jerking and throbbing in my mouth. I liked this. I liked the way I was making him react. I felt kind of like I was controlling him. "Now, Baby...what I want you to do, is, keep just the head inside of your mouth, and rub it the way you did before, with your thumb, okay?"

I did what he told me to do, and, in a matter of only seconds, he was moaning. He grabbed my head and drove himself into me, nearly choking me, and filling me with his stuff. I tried swallowing, as he told me that was what girls did with it. I kind of liked the texture, it was so thick and creamy. It was a bit salty, but, I liked it.

I kept him in my mouth, till he was drained, and he nearly fell on my bed. I lay down again. "Bobby?" "Yeah, Karen?" "Am I really a boy?" "Yeah, but, you are the prettiest and foxiest boy I ever saw. You really turn me, you are so foxy. I’ve been waiting for weeks to get to be alone with you." "You think that I am really pretty?" "Oh yeah, Babe. You are gorgeous." "Thank you."

"So, was I right? Did you like sucking my cock?" "Yes, I did. I can not explain it, but, I felt...right about it." "Yeah...well...the old lady turned you into a fairy, and, I guess that is what you are. If you like sucking cocks, you’re probably as queer as a three dollar bill. You will probably never be a real guy. But, I got to tell you, Karen, there are guys, like me, who really get turned on by having sex with a guy, when they are more like girls than they are boys. If you can meet a guy like me, he’ll treat you like a royal queen. He’ll treat you a lot better than guys usually treat their girlfriends."

I looked at him. I realized, that my brother Bobby, was a cute guy. I wanted him to kiss me. Instead, he got dressed and left my room. I did not get to be alone with him till nearly a week later. I had gone swimming at the old gravel pit on our farm.

It was later in the afternoon. I had thought that I was alone. I’d laid a towel out on the grass to get some sun. Because I was alone, I had untied the bra of my bikini, and was enjoying the feel of the hot sun on my sensitive breasts. Suddenly, I heard a soft quiet voice. "God, you are beautiful, Karen."

I opened my eyes and saw Bobby standing a few feet away, staring at me. I wondered if he liked my breasts. I hoped so. I smiled to let him know that I was glad that he was there with me. He came over and slowly knelt down, then, he lay beside me. I felt entirely natural as he gathered me into his arms and began kissing me. My arms encircled his shoulders and neck, and I hungrily sucked his tongue into my ravenous mouth. I craved his loving.

His fingers were calloused and rubbed my delicate breasts roughly, but, I did not want him to stop it, even if it did hurt a bit. Bobby was a strong young man, and I felt very small beside him. I knew that he could do anything that he wanted to me, and I would not be able to resist him. I loved the feeling of helpless dependence that I had, on his good intentions towards me.

He then did something that drove me absolutely wild. I screamed it felt so beautiful. He lowered his head, and began kissing, sucking, then biting my nipples. His other hand went down and untied the straps to my bikini panties, and was soon tugging them down over my hips and pulling them off my feet. I was totally naked and helpless as my brother kissed my breasts, driving me incapable of even desiring to resist his advances. I loved the feeling of being naked and vulnerable, as his hands roamed over me. Bobby was muscular and he probably had twice the body mass that I had. I was his for the taking. He knew it. I knew that I craved this feeling.

He stood, removed all of his clothing, then lay beside me on my towel. Hungrily, my hands reached for that gorgeous cock of his, as he kissed me all over, returned to my breasts, then, he kissed down to my crotch. He reversed himself beside me. He was kissing and licking my inner thighs. I could no more resist sucking his cock than I could stop shooting up, had I been a heroine addict. I grabbed at it and sucked it deeply into my self. He shifted so that I was on my back, and his legs were astraddle my thin chest. He drove himself down into my mouth, and I lovingly received him, craving that cum of his, again.

When he took my little thing into his mouth, he drove himself down into me, unloaded a huge load of his cum. I do not know how I managed to not suffocate, but, I swallowed till I had all of my reward from him. I exploded into his mouth at the same time.

The afternoon wore on as we lay beside each other, loving each other. When my emotions had stabilized again, I wondered if he could shoot it again for me. I reached over, and soon had that pretty little thing hardening in my mouth again. I made him cum again for me. We walked home, holding hands, like a girl and boy friend. He made me promise that I would not tell anyone else about our love affair. Just before we came in sight of the house, I went on by myself, and he took another route. We did not want our parents to find out about us.

About three weeks later, I was awakened one night, by the feel of someone crawling into my bed with me. It was Bobby. He told me that he wanted to fuck me. He said that when a girl loves a guy, that she lets him fuck her. He kissed me, put his hand inside the panties of my baby dolls, to see if I was hard, to prove that I loved him, and told me that was the proof that I loved him. I asked what I should do.

He told me that it might be painful, at first. He took off my panties, and told me to put them in my mouth. It seemed pretty strange, but, I did what he told me to do. I then rolled over onto my tummy. I wanted to feel my brother shooting inside of me. I loved the feeling of his hot hairy body in my satin sheeted bed, rubbing roughly over me.

He then got up, and I could see in the faint light, that it looked like he was putting something on his cock. He then got back into the bed, positioned himself on top of me, and I felt his greased cock poking at my bum cheeks. He reached down and found the little hole, and he pushed his weight onto my back, and drove himself into me. I screamed. The panties in my mouth deadened the sound , but, the pain was horrible. Because of his weight on me, I could do nothing but receive him as he moved in and out of me. Once my bum was conditioned to his movements, the pain subsided.

I lay there, my arms under my head, Bobby’s weight on my back, and his lips were kissing my cheeks and my shoulders, telling me what a sexy girl I was, and how he was so turned on by me that he had a hard on all day, that he thought about me constantly. I was flattered. It began to feel good, as he moved inside of me. I was liking being a girl getting fucked by a hunk.

I shook off these thoughts when I heard my mother setting the dining room table. I had struggled at school, but, I never met anyone who accepted such a feminine man. I had enrolled as a man, but, knew with in a week that had been a mistake. Men do not have delicate features, hairless bodies and breasts.

It had been horrible, but, I had learned, gotten my degree, and knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I could never adjust to living as a man. It was not in me. I did not want to. I hoped that somehow, I’d meet a man like my brother Bobby. My degree would enable me to work in an office, for that I was thankful.

I entered the house again, being accepted for who I was, a girl with the attributes of the male and the soul of a lady. My mother smiled. "Karen, you sit here, Dear. Now, tell me all about how horrible that time as a man was for you....I just can’t imagine."

 

 

© 1998
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