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My Fantasy               by: Miss Deborah (Debi) Leigh Johnson

 

One:

I had never felt so utterly weak, so vulnerable or so completely humiliated before in my entire 17 years of life. The emotion was so intense, that there was almost a bitter sweetness to the moment. I knew that I would remember this moment for all time.

I stood there, in front of the best friend that I had ever had. Brad Jamieson was just standing there looking back at me, but he had a smile that slightly curled the corners of his lips. He also had something else that I had never seen before, especially directed at me. It was lust. He was looking at me with the same look that I had seen in his eyes hundreds of times before, but then it had been directed at pretty girls, not at me.

Of course, I had to remember, that I had never been seen before by Brad, while I was wearing a pretty dress either.

It was summertime, and as per usual, my mom was working very long hours. Summertime was her second busiest season at the designer dress shop that she owned. And in an attempt to keep her costs of doing business down, she often worked long shifts herself, rather than to pay someone to work for her. Today was one of those days.

It was 3:30 p. m. I knew that she would not be home before 11:30 that night. As I usually did, when I was left alone for a long afternoon of being by myself, I did what I loved to do most in the world. My mom knew about it of course, but no one else had ever found out. She had said it was okay, as long as I kept it a secret. That was mostly so to protect me, I think though.

I’d always been extremely careful before, so no one had ever found out, that is, till Brad had walked in to my hose unannounced and unexpected, less than an hour earlier. I’d been in the bath room when he had come in, and I had not heard him calling out my name, as I had been running the water in the sink. I had been brushing my teeth at the time. I had come out of the bath room, in my naive cloud of innocent oblivion, totally unaware the my world was about to be shattered. I’d also been retouching my makeup in the bath room.

I walked, swinging my hips gaily and loving the freedom to swish in such a manner, and I had gone to my mother’s room to straighten up her stuff. Her number one rule was that if I was going to share her feminine wardrobe, that I was expected to make sure that I did not leave a mess for her to clean up. I had learned the hard way, that not obeying her, had resulted in a severe spanking, on my pantied bum when I was twelve years old. Needless to say, mom had never had to repeat spanking me in such a fashion.

Once I’d finished in mom’s room, and checked my own room for any tell tale mess, I went back to my mom’s room to check myself out one more time, in the floor to ceiling mirrors that she had on her sliding closet doors. If I was as good looking as I thought that I was, I was planning on spending much of the afternoon sunning myself on the back patio.

I smiled cutely at myself in the mirror. I really was cute, I believed. Mom told me I was cute to of course, but it is different when you really believe for yourself. My strawberry blond hair fell in thick waves to my shoulders, and I had used a curling iron to curl it up and under. I had bangs to. I had always kept my hair in a kind of long page boy style, because that could easily pass for a guy’s hair cut, with minor modifications.

The dress I had chosen to wear for this afternoon was a light pink and white plaid pattern. It had a ruffle around the boat neck, ruffles on the short puffy sleeves, and a white ruffled hem. The skirt flared out and fell to about three inches above my nyloned knees, in big folds. I loved this dress, because it always made me feel kind of like a little girl, and yet it was designed for the budding shapeliness of a young woman. Some dresses just scream out "GIRL", and this dress was one such a dress. It was so ultra feminine, and I loved the way that it made me feel to wear it. It was, in a word, cute.

I wore three inch heeled pink pumps, that had a tiny pink buckled strap around my ankles to. They were so ultra feminine. I’d envied my mom for being able to wear them any time that she chose to, ever since I had first seen them, three years earlier. I was glad that I could wear her shoes, and I was glad that she let me wear her shoes. My mom has exquisite taste when it comes to clothes.

I was only 5’ 4" tall, which only half an inch taller than my mom. I was almost the same weight to, at 128 lbs. At my age, I was pretty sure that I was not going to grow any more, and that pleased me. I think I am a good size, for a girl that is, but my mom says we could both do with dropping about 10 lbs. I wiggle my hips a bit, just to relish the look of my skirt flapping back and forth, in a decidedly feminine reflection.

My legs are shapely to. Fortunately, like the rest of me, I bear a very strong resemblance to my very pretty mother. I am glad of that, because she is a beautiful woman. I am still more on the girlish cute side, rather than the more debonair and sophisticated beautiful, that she is, of course. After all, I am still young.

Prettily, I cocked my head to the side, and I smiled prettily at the cute girl that I saw in the mirror. Once again, I felt that lovely and most welcome flutter of feeling utterly feminine. I loved that feeling, and I always tried to dress really cute, in order to have that feeling again. Feeling like a cute girl is the most delightful emotion that I ever have, and I am ever so thankful that my mother understands and even encourages my unnatural desires to wear girl’s clothes all the time.

Under my dress, I wore a white silk slip that had a full skirt on it, to help fluff out the full skirt of my dress, almost as much as a crinoline might, had I been wearing one. My skirt swished around my hips with every slight movement. I loved it. It made me feel so pretty.

I also wore a pretty lace bra with B cup silicone breasts. My mom had given them to me as a present for my seventeenth birthday. I loved the way they bounced as I minced on my high heels. They were ever so life like. I loved wearing them. They made me feel so girlish, and girlish is one feeling that I really love.

My panties were trimmed with delightful white lace, over the ultra soft pink silk. As per usual, I had an erection, which was one more reason for me to wear flaring skirts. Geeze, all that I had to do was to think about what wearing a pretty pair of panties would feel like, and I’d get an instant boner. I had a boner on almost all the time when I wore panties. Even if I relieved myself, it would be back again in a few minutes. Just being able to feel pretty and feminine is what turned my crank so much. Just knowing that I was a boy, and that I looked so much like a girl, was what gave me the boner.

I just absolutely loved being a boy in my pretty clothes.

I love being a girl more than any other thing in the whole world. I envied real girls for the hormone in their blood that dictated that they should wear pretty dresses all day long. I wished once again, that I had been a real girl, so that I could be pretty, and so that boys would like me.

I had never dared to admit it to my mom, but I wanted for boys to like me, when I was a girl. I wanted boys to chase after me, rather than have all the girls disdain me for my slight build and pretty face. Life seemed so unfair sometimes. It would all be okay though, if I was just a girl.

Feeling as happy as I had always felt when I was dressed prettily, I swished my way into the kitchen, and of course, I had a limp wristed sway to my walk, as it just seemed to be the most comfortable way for me to walk when I wore dresses and high heeled shoes.

I removed a soda from the refrigerator, poured it into a glass, and decided to go into the living room and watch a movie. I had a long afternoon to enjoy, and I knew there were lots of good movies on the movie channel that afternoon. I would go and sun myself later, after the UV rays went down.

I loved the sounds that my lingerie made, as I swished into the living room, made my way over to the television, found the remote control, turned it on, selected the movie channel, and turned to make my way over to the couch, to relax.

Suddenly, it was like a nightmare.

My best friend, Brad was sitting on the couch, and he was lustily admiring my effeminated presence.

"Wha... What the hell are you doing here, Brad?" I moaned out, hardly believing that after the many months of being so careful, that I had allowed myself to be discovered. I could not help but to notice that I was using my girl voice to. At least I had gotten that right, but at that moment, it was just one more reason to feel shame for my condition.

"Man oh Man. I’ve always thought that you were a bit on the swishy side, but I would never have dreamed that you were like this. Man, you look fantastic. You look really foxy."

"Brad!!! How can you just walk into someone’s house and not even be invited???"

"Hey... You upset because I see you for who you really are or because you did not know that I was here to see you? Man oh man, you are a fox."

"Yes I’m upset. It was a secret, and if you hadn’t barged in here like that, it would still be a secret. Of course I’m upset." I wished that I had not girlishly stamped my high heeled foot on the floor to emphasise my words. I knew that it just made me more of a fairy to him. I knew that I was acting every inch a petulant girl, as I stomped my foot in my fruitless frustration. My girl personality seemed to be running the show though.

Brad obviously liked what I looked like, because he looked down at my foot, and he smiled. He did not really smile, he sort of grinned as though he were finding out something kind of stupid.

"Well, girly, it ain’t no secret no more, is it?"

"Brad!!! What am I going to do now?" I knew that I had a girlish whine in my voice, but I was not able to be in complete control of my emotions at that moment. I did not want to act like a girl in front of my friend, but I was a girl, and now he knew it just as much as I knew it.

"Uhhh... What do you call yourself when you are a girl?"

"De... Debi, only one "b" and no "e" at the end, D-E-B-I."

"D-E-B-I? You spell it as cute as you look, Miss Debi."

"You... You think that I look cute?" I did not want to be so vain, but I could not help it. My heart leapt into my throat as I wondered how he saw me, really.

"Hell yes. If I saw you at the mall or something, I’d be hitting on you like you would not believe."

"You would?"

"You better believe it. You is one foxy chick, Debi."

I stooped and stared at him. I suddenly became aware that my best friend was seeing the really cute girl that I had just been admiring in the mirror in my mother’s room. I felt all that much more girlish as I began to feel my best friend’s eyes as they devoured me. His naked lust made me feel so weak and so vulnerable. I could almost feel his eyes as they passed over my nyloned legs, below my short skirted dress.

I felt weak. I felt pretty. I felt desired. I felt so completely vulnerable. I wanted him to like me.

"Uhhh... What’s next, Brad? Are you going to tell everyone my little secret? Are you going to blackmail me now, or something like that?"

"Well... Let’s see now... I will promise to do something nice for you, if you do something nice for me."

"What’s "something nice", Brad?" I did not trust the tone in his voice. He was cooking something up in that warped little hormone driven cranium that he called his thinker.

"I will keep your secret, but in order for me to keep it, you have to become my new secret girl friend."

"Secret girl friend? What do you mean, Brad?" I was wary of his idea. I was sure that I was going to get the short end of any deal with him, but did I have a choice? But, I had always dreamed of being a girl friend to some guy, and from the vantage point that I had at that moment, I realised for the first time in my life, that Brad was a cute guy. I really liked the way he looked, through my girl eyes. I knew that I was seeing him for the very first time, with girl’s eyes, and I liked the way it made me feel.

"Well, you have gone out with girls before. You know what girl friends do with the guys that they love, don’t you? All you have to do is to act just like any other girl friend, and I will keep your secret safe."

"Act like any other girl friend?" I could not help it. What he was proposing was just not sinking in.

"Yeppur. You got it chicky. You act towards me, just like any other girl friend who is in love with her guy, and you can trust me all the way to the bank."

"But..."

"But what, sweet cheeks?"

"Well... Girl friends... Uhhh... Girl friends kiss their boy friends!!!"

"Yeah..? I’d say that is pretty normal between guys and chicks who like each other, wouldn’t you? Of course..." He actually gave a lecherous chuckle, " Loving girl friends also do an awful lot more than kiss boys, don’t they honey?"

"You... You want me to let you kiss me? Are you serious, Brad?" I did not want to, but my heart was leaping with joy at the thought that this boy thought that I was such a cute girl, that he wanted to kiss me. That must mean that he liked me, didn’t it?

"I want a whole lot more than that chicky pooh. I expect you to not only let me kiss you, but I expect you to really like for me to kiss you. And I want for you to really "want" to kiss me back to. You remember your last girl friend, Wendy?"

"Yes? I remember Wendy."

"You remember what you told me that she used to like to do to you, whenever you and she would go parking together?"

"You... You can’t be serious, Brad? I... I couldn’t..."

I had confessed to Brad that Wendy had some kind of oral fixation, and she used to love to suck me when ever we went parking, or to the drive-in. I’d loved it of course, but she would never let me do anything else to her. She just seemed to have orgasms, just from doing it to me. Unfortunately, her parents had moved away from our town four months ago. I’d really liked her to, aside from her enjoyment of oral sex with me. She was the kind of girl that I wished that I could have been like. She was all girl. I envied her.

But Brad, he was sitting there, telling me that just because I was wearing girl’s clothes, that he wanted me to do the same kinds of things, and to not only do it to him, but he also wanted for me to like doing them to him, as thought I really were a real girl.

I sighed, as I battled against the mental image that was forming in my mind, of myself kneeling if front of Brad the way that Wendy used to kneel in front of me, and I could not stop it, as it flashed across my mind. I blushed furiously. Naturally, as would any girl like me, I had fantasised about it, but I had never ever really ever thought that I would ever really do it. It was just a fantasy for me.

Then the red colour of humiliated blushing drained from my face as I really began to realise what he was saying. But I also knew that if I did not do these things for him, that he would not hesitate to spread my secret all over the town, and my social life would be totally ruined.

The guys in our small town would not ever let me forget it, and the girls would want nothing more to do with me. After all, how many girls want to go out with a guy who wears the same kind of under wear that she wears, eh? My life, as I knew it, would be dead, completely dead, not to mention the constant torment that I could expect to face. I knew what all the other guys thought about guys like me, and I would do anything to prevent my secret from getting out. My social existence depended on some how preserving the image, even is it was a suspect masculinity as Brad had intimated earlier.

I shuddered. I suddenly realised how powerless I was. I had no choices. In a way, it was like being a real girl, I guessed. But, could I do that? How could I? Fantasy was one thing, but reality was something that was entirely different.

If I wanted it keep any semblance of the masculine reputation that I had tried so hard to preserve for most of my life, I had to do this, and become Brad’s secret girl friend. I had no choice. I suddenly could identify with women who complained about how they were abused and exploited by their employers, or their husbands. I to, was wearing those shoes now. They were not such pretty shoes, in that light.

I knew that I had no choice. Feeling vulnerable, and utterly helpless, I asked Brad, "What do you want me to do, Brad?"

"Well, for a start, why don’t you come over here, and sit on my lap, honey bunch?"

Humiliation washed through my psyche. He wanted me to act like a real girl, which I liked to do anyway, but he also wanted to treat me as though I really were a girl. No one aside from my mom had ever treated me like I was a real girl. The prospect of being treated like a real girl was terrifying, even if it was terribly erotic for me at the same time. I hated to admit it, but I had a huge erection in my panties that would just not quit. The whole idea of it flew in the face of the masculine image that I had garnered over the years with Brad.

But I had no choice. I made my feet move, one after the other, till I stood right in front of him. The hem of my skirt brushed his pants he wore, at his knees. I seemed to be acutely aware of every little detail. Not knowing what else to do, nervously, I turned my back to him, smoothed out my dress, and lowered myself onto his knees. I could not believe that I was really sitting on a guy’s knees like this. It felt so wonderfully effeminating to me.

Of course, I had fantasised many times about what it would feel like to do this, but I had never seriously considered that I would ever actually be doing it. His thighs seemed to be bony. But I was also very aware of the strength that he had in his legs. He was a track star at school, after all.

Brad’s hands grasped my hips. He pulled me back onto him, till I could feel my back on his tummy. I could not believe it. He had a hard on for me. I felt it pushing up into my bum. I had never ever dreamed that anyone, aside from Wendy that is, would find me to be sexually attractive to them, let alone my best friend. I also felt flattered to know that as a girl, that I could make Brad feel like this. His erection was appealing to my feminine vanity. I did not want to feel that way, but I did feel that way.

Uncertain as to what I should do next, I turned my head so that I could face him, and I knew that amazement was written all over my countenance. He grinned at me, and took advantage of my position to lay his hand on my knees, and pull my thighs to the side, so that I was sitting across his lap. His hand remained on my nyloned knees. They burned into my knees, it seemed.

I did not want to admit it, especially to myself, but I knew that there was a danger of ripping out the front of my panties, because I was so turned on. The intensity of my emotions was befuddling to me. I had never imagined that I could be so strongly attracted to another boy. Of course, because I had been wearing girl’s clothes for a very long time, I had thought about boys, and wondered if I could feel like a girl with a boy, but I had never really believed that it would happen. Brad just seemed to know what was in me though. I had never been so close to a guy before, and I liked the sense of intimacy that I was feeling. I felt like melting.

"Comfy, honey buns?"

I felt his left hand as it was lightly placed on my back, between my shoulder blades, the fingers lightly tracing the outline of my bra, and he applied a slight pressure to pull my upper body towards him. I knew that he wanted to kiss me. I knew that I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted to see what it felt like to be kissed by a boy, but I felt I had to resist. I pressed back away from him, but not too hard.

‘What, are you telling me that you, such a pretty girl, and you do not want a boy to kiss you?"

"I... I’m not a real girl, Brad..." I answered in a quiet girl voice. I sort of hoped that he would not make me kiss him. But, I also hoped that he would make me kiss him. I wanted him to make me be a girl for him.

"Listen chicky. You like this. You like being a pretty girl, and you like turning a guy on. I know you do. I can prove it to you."

"Prove it to me? How could you do that, Brad?"

He grinned at me. I did not see his hand moving, but his right hand descended into the lap of my dress, and he grasped my erection, right through my dress. I nearly died of embarrassment. I could not believe how strong his fingers felt. I nearly creamed into his hand, it felt so masterful as he squeezed me tightly.

"There’s the proof honey. This can’t lie. You love being a girl. And you love being my girl to. You might as well admit it to yourself, and stop playing these little girl games of yours. You are as queer as a three dollar bill, and I got the proof right here in my hot little hand."

He pressed my back again. I did not resist. I felt my head move towards his face. I submitted to his will. I felt his lips on mine, and something inside of me yielded. I felt compelled to accept his kiss. I closed my eyes, and I knew that my lips were soft and yielding to him. His lips were kind of hard and thin. They felt so wonderful on my lips. I was being kissed, as a girl would be kissed, and I loved it. I kissed him back.

As Brad continued to kiss me, I closed my eyes, and accepted his kiss. It was his love for the girl me, and I wanted it. As he kissed me, his breathing got heavier. I felt his cock throbbing under my bum cheek. I was flattered, to be able to make him so hard for me. I moved my bum cheeks slightly, to tease him. I knew that I was a girl for him, so I figured that I might as well enjoy the freedom that wearing a dress was giving me, to play girl games with a guy. It was what I had always wanted to do anyway.

As he kissed me, my left hand stole up over his chest, up to lightly rest on his shoulder. I knew that I was sending a message of surrender to him, but it just seemed to be the right thing to do. At the same time, Brad tightened his grasp on me, grinding the intimate girl material of my beautiful panties, into the only boyhood that I had left to me.

And I was utterly unable to control myself. I moaned as I sucked his tongue deeply into my mouth, and I bucked up into his hand. I shuddered, and I could not stop myself from ejaculating into his hand. I erupted in the most glorious orgasm that I had ever had, which was really saying something to. I’d had some wonderful orgasms before. He made me feel utterly and completely girlified, and it was wonderful to feel like that. I hoped that I was not ruining my mother’s panties.

Brad chuckled into my mouth, as his lips lightly began to lick my lips, and he squeezed me and he made me cum, as he masturbated me into my panties. I felt so utterly girlish, and it was ever so delightful. I knew that I was going to do whatever he wanted me to do no matter how humiliating it might be to me.

He held me tightly, inserting his tongue into my mouth, as he continued to milk me, till I collapsed weakly spent, against him. I knew that Brad now knew the most innermost secrets that I had ever had. I was utterly exposed to him, in a way that no one had ever known me before. I felt weak and vulnerable, and it was wonderful. It was a feminine feeling.

When Brad sensed that I was completely spent, he whispered in my ear, as he nibbled on the ear lobe, that he knew that I would really like being his girl friend because he knew how to treat a girl right, and that if I was always very nice to him, that he would always be very nice to me to. I purred.

He waited till I regained my strength, as he continued to kiss my face, my neck and all over my right ear. I shuddered as his tongue went into my ear, and I started to get hard again. Being treated like a girl was such an ultimate turn on for me. I was ashamed that he could make me react like this. It was as though he had found the switch that turned on my emotions, and I could not control them anymore. Even knowing that I was being controlled my these feminine emotions was strangely freeing to me. I’ll never be able to understand how that could happen.

When I was recuperated, Brad asked me how I felt. I told him that I felt very nice, and I surprised myself by planting a little appreciative kiss on his lips. It made me feel so girlish. I kissed him again. I liked being a girl. so that I could kiss him like that. He’d never let a boy kiss him like that, I knew.

"Okay girly. Now it is your turn."

"My turn, Brad?"

"Yeppur. Get off my lap Debi."

I stood up as he had bid me to. I stepped back, and I watched him as he stood up. He had a big bulge in the front of his pants, and I was fascinated by it. I knew that my girl self was the reason for it.

He smiled at me. "Kneel down honey."

With a shock, I realised what he expected me to do. I did not want to do this. I was not a fairy. Well, at least I did not think I was a fairy, even if I did love wearing such pretty clothes all the time. I did not want to, but I could not resist looking up into the clear blue eyes, as I found myself lowering myself to my knees. It was as though he had gained some kind of mastery over my emotions. I marvelled at the way that he could make me feel, as I slowly lowered myself to my knees. I knew that I wanted him to like me, and I wanted to please him. I loved how he just seemed to be able to lord it over me in the way that he was doing so.

I knew that I was submitting to it. I was going to actually do it. I was dressed up as a pretty girl, and I was actually going to suck a cock? I was shattered to think that my life could change so quickly. But, I knew that Brad just seemed so masterful, that I felt as though he could tell me to do anything, and that I would do it for him. Also, I knew that a part of me wanted to please this man to.

I watched, mesmerised, as his fingers opened his belt, and pushed his pants down till they fell to his ankles. There was a really large obscene bulge in the white jockey shorts. Then he pushed his white jockey shorts down, and his cock was revealed to my amazed eyes. He seemed so big. He seemed so ugly. Yet, ugly as it was, it had a fascination for me. I could not help it. I felt like I was drawn to it. I felt a strong desire to feel it, and to feel it on my lips. I wanted to kiss it for him.

He awkwardly sidled over till he was standing right in front of me. His cock was bobbing, right in front of my face. Once in a while, it would hit my nose, and once it even lightly brushed my lips. He had such a strong man smell. I liked it.

I could hardly believe that I was actually in such a situation. My own cock was once again erect, and bulging against the front of my panties. I had never been so excited in my life. I could feel every feminine stitch that I was wearing, and all of it cried out to me, that I was his girl.

"Suck my cock, Miss Debi."

That was all that he said. But, it sounded like a thunder clap as the words echoed inside of my skull. I knew that I could not resist doing this. I hated to admit it, but I felt ever so feminine, and I wanted to do every little thing that real women got to do, with men. Real girls, like Wendy were expected to like sucking cocks. Brad expected Debi to like sucking his cock, just like Wendy had liked sucking mine.

I did not know how I was going to feel about it, but I wanted, and I mean that from the depths of my emotions, I really wanted to feel it inside on my mouth. I wanted to suck it, because he was a man, and I was his new girl friend. I wanted to suck it, because that is what real girls like doing, and I wanted to do everything that real girls did.

I looked up at him from my place of kneeling submission before him. I could see the expressions on his face. He was a kind of lord over me at that moment, and he knew it, and he liked being a lord to. That was just so male, I thought. If he was my lord at the moment, then I was his maiden now.

Nervously, I licked my lips. I reached up with my right hand, and gently, for the first time ever, placed my fingertips on the shaft of some one else’s cock. I saw my pink tipped fingers on it. I moved my hand back a forth a bit. The skin felt like satin, and is was so soft. It seemed to almost float over a shaft of iron that was just under neath it. He was rock hard. He must really like me.

I saw the pee hole opening and closing, and I knew that he wanted to spew a mouthful of his cream into me, from it. I was fascinated. I moved my head forward. I felt the dryness of his cock head on my lips. I pursed my lips. I kissed the head of his cock. I had the strange feeling that I was honouring him for being able to be a real man, while I did not have what it took to be anything but a pretend girl.

I liked the way the dryness felt on my lips, as I kissed his cock. I could not help but to look up at him. I saw his blue eyes looking piercingly down at me. I wondered what I must look like to him. Did he see me as a pretty girl, kissing his cock for him? I hoped so. I did not want him to think of me as a boy.

His eyes fascinated me. He smiled with them, then he spoke. "Open your pretty mouth Debi, and put my cock inside of your mouth."

I knew what people said about boys who wore girl’s clothes, and took men’s cocks into their mouths, but I did not care. It was the right thing for me to do. I continued to seek approval in his eyes, as I opened my mouth, and I felt the dryness of his cock as it moved ever so slowly over my sensitive lips, as he entered me.

I could hardly believe what I was doing. but I could not stop myself. I knew now that I wanted to be a pretty cock sucker for my boy friend. I wanted to please my boy friend, like any other girl wants to please the boy she likes.

I received him till I could feel his cock head pressing against my cheeks. I knew that he would see his cock making my cheeks bulge out, and I knew that he would see the bulge moving in my cheeks, as I sucked his cock for him, and I hoped that the sight would really please him.

I wanted him to be very happy. I had never sucked a cock before, so I really did not know what I was doing, but I licked at it, and I sucked hard on it, as he withdrew it from my mouth, till only the head of it was still inside of my mouth. Then he moved forward again, once again filling my mouth with him. He seemed so big. As his cock moved back into my mouth, I licked the underside of it for him. I knew that he was using my mouth, like he used a vagina, but I liked the way he felt as he moved inside of me.

Over and over again, I received him, and sucked hard as he withdrew from me. Then I greedily received him again. I wanted to please him. I wanted to be a loving girl for him. I wanted him to like me, and to like what I was doing. I wanted for him to want me to do this again and again for him.

"Ohhh... Debi... You sure do now how to suck a cock. You are sooo good at it. Yesss... Suck me honey. Make me cum for you. I want to cum in your pretty little mouth honey. I want to give you my baby stuff, just like I give it to every girl that I make love to. Yesss... Suck it. I... I’m going to cum for you honey... Ahhh..."

As I heard his words, I felt him start to get bigger in my mouth. I had not known that a cock got bigger before ejaculating. I moved my head back till just the head of him was inside of my mouth, and I began to masturbate him, paying special gentle loving attention to the area under the head of his cock.

He moaned and I felt a great jet of his cum as it smashed against the back of my mouth. Then another one came. Then there was another one. I lost count as I felt him release himself into my mouth. I felt the thick hot salty gobs of it on my tongue. I had my mouth full of his baby stuff. I had his cum inside of my mouth. I liked the way that it felt. I liked the way that it tasted to. I liked knowing that I really could like being Brad’s girl.

I could hardly believe that I had actually been his girl, and that I had just sucked off my best friend. In fact, I still had his cock inside of my mouth. I loved how submissive, and how feminine I was feeling, as I knelt before him, and pleasured him in the way that he had wanted for me to pleasure him.

I could not resist my desire to ejaculate again. Kneeling in front of him, feeling his cock inside of my mouth was just so completely effeminating to me. I reached down and gently grasped the front of my dress. I orgasmed again, and the turn on was that I was doing what real girls do. I was being a girl.

When I felt him starting to go soft, I let him slip out of my mouth. Brad smiled down at me. He asked me if I was going to eat it for him. I blushed as I smiled up at him. I swallowed it. I could see the sense of masculine pride that crossed his face, as he saw me eating his cum for him. I liked the taste of it. It was salty, but I liked the taste of it.

I watched as Brad pulled up his clothing. Then he reached down for my hand, and helped me to my feet. I came up, and found myself wrapped in his arms. He kissed me, with a long deep French kiss. I wrapped my arms around his neck so that I would not fall down from the weakness that he was making me feel. I loved how his arms wrapped tightly and possessively around me the way that they were.

He lifted me from my feet, and he carried me into my bed room. He lay me on my bed. I looked up at him, submissively wondering what he was planning next. He smiled and he lay down on top of me. He was quite a bit heavier than I was, but he was ever so gentle with me. I liked the way he felt on me. I looked up at him, and I wondered if he could see the sense of love that I was feeling for him. I raised my head to kiss his lips. He made me hard again. He was so masculine.

He lay on me like that, kissing me for about twenty minutes. I could not get enough of him. Then he rolled off to the side, and lay beside me. After a few minutes, he rolled onto his back. I went up on my side, and I noted that he had another big bulge in his pants.

I leaned over and kissed him. As I did so, I reached out with my left hand, and began to gently caress the bulge in the front of his pants. I looked down to see what my hand looked like on the front of a man’s pants. I liked the way that it looked. It looked natural and right to me. I squeezed him.

He moaned. He told me that I was going to make an awful mess in his pants, if I did not stop what I was doing. I kissed him, and told him that if he wanted me to, I would take care of the mess for him.

He looked at me for a very long minute. I felt so utterly exposed and vulnerable under his gaze. I knew that I had just confessed to him, that as a girl, that I liked sucking his cock for him. And he knew what I was really saying to.

"You really do want to take care of it for me, don’t you Debi?"

I blushed. "Yes..." What else could I say. I knew that I was telling my best friend, that I wanted to suck his cock again for him. That was what was really happening, wasn’t it?

He smiled. He reached down and opened his pants for me. he pushed them down and his cock stuck straight up in the air for the second time that afternoon. I could not resist reaching down to fondle it for him, and I had soon kissed my way down over his chest, over his belly, and down till I could once again take his cock into my loving effeminated mouth.

I had found out who I was, and I was a female who wanted to please the man in her life.

Brad had made me be what I had been too chicken to become by myself.

End..? I don’t think so, Tim... ( to quote a famous Home Improvement quote)

 

Debi Johnson e-mail: dljohnson@cnwl.igs.net


1998
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