Please Note: The following story is fictional. Any perceived similar to real persons, either living or dead, is strictly coincidental. Although it's intended primarily as an entertaining story with alternative sex, the "story" part takes priority over the "sex". If you are looking to read a story that is pure sex with almost no plot, don't bother with this one. It's rather long, presented in several parts, and (just as is usually the case in real life) the sex portions are slow to develop. Also, if you are below the legal age or fiction of a sexual nature is illegal where you live, please leave now.
Summary of previous episode: Software tycoon Paul Taylor suspected his wife was cheating on him. What he hadn't suspected was that she would actually try to do away with him to get her hands on his fortune and his company. He's abducted and left for dead in a staged car crash, but he survives and is rescued by a hermit living in a canyon near the crash. When he comes to, he finds that he's snowed in with his rescuer, Rusty MacDonald, and that all his clothes were torn to shreds in the "accident". Since Paul is a relatively small man, and Rusty approaches giant status, and has few clothes himself, Paul is forced to make do with clothes left behind by the previous occupant of the cabin . . . Rusty's late sister, Cindy. All he can find are very feminine clothes - no jeans, slacks or sweatsuits. Just dresses, skirts, blouses and very feminine and sexy underwear. This really doesn't bother Paul at all, since he'd been a part-time closet crossdresser since childhood. The question is, how will Rusty react? Rusty is actually pleased, since having a fairly effeminate man dressed as a woman around the cabin is as close to having a woman spend the winter with him as he'll get anytime soon. Paul decides to do his best to support the big man's fantasy by looking and acting as much like a woman as possible during his multi-week stay, partly out of gratitude to Rusty, but also partly to live out one of Paul's own fantasy.
Paul went back to "his" bedroom, and took another quick inventory of the items left behind by the late Cindy MacDonald. Collecting what he thought he needed, he headed for the bathroom. He started drawing a hot bath, and dropped some of Cindy's bath oil beads into the water. He undressed, but before settling into the hot tub he took a few minutes to relieve the pressure in his throbbing dick. This was probably the most sexually excited he'd ever been in his life, and he came in less than a minute, shooting what felt like quarts of cum into a wad of toilet paper. Stepping into the tub, he found the hot water was soothing on his bruises, and the lightly perfumed smell of the foamy water was exhilarating. Taking the razor he found among Cindy's things, he started removing most of the hair from his body. He had to work carefully around his many cuts and scratches, but was finally able to remove all his body hair except for a small triangle in the pubic area and the hair on top of his head. He'd never had a heavy beard, and some depilatory lotion he'd found made short work of what little shadow the razor had left behind on his face.
He stepped out of the tub and toweled himself dry. He rubbed himself all over with perfumed bath powder, and returned to the bedroom to select a change of clothes. This time he didn't worry about finding the least feminine selections. In fact, he leaned toward the opposite extreme, selecting a lacy pair of black bikini panties and matching garter belt. He also picked out a lacy black bra and laid it on the bed, before opening the bottom drawer where he'd found the breast forms, adhesive and wigs. The application instructions were still with the fake breasts, and he followed them closely to get the boobs attached to him in as close to a natural position as he could. Checking himself in the mirror, he decided they were nearly perfect. If he didn't know better, he'd have thought he was looking at a mostly-naked woman. He struggled a little bit with the bra hooks in the back, but managed to get everything done up. Since he'd worn the nylons he'd had on for only a few hours, he decided that they were clean enough to wear again. Pulling them up, he realized that they felt even better on his legs now that his hair was gone.
He'd had an awkward encounter with the panties when he'd used the toilet earlier, and figured out that if he ran the straps from the garter belt under the panties and out through the leg holes before attaching them, he'd be able to drop his panties to go to the bathroom without having to pull down the nylons and garter belt. Next came the selection of a dress. He chose a sleeveless silver-gray silk dress with a fairly high hemline and a scoop neck that barely covered the bra. A pair of silver pumps with a fairly low heel completed the ensemble. He'd gotten by just fine with the one-inch heels on the other shoes, so he figured he'd be okay with the extra half inch in the heel of the pumps.
Another check in the mirror showed that the illusion was nearly complete. He pulled one of the wigs from the dresser drawer . . . shoulder length hair of a light brown color that came close to matching his own. He took it over to the small vanity in the corner and sat down, pulling the wig down over his own hair, and straightening it until it sat just right. He really didn't know that much about makeup, having experimented with his mother's only a few times, but figured he could accomplish a little with just the liquid foundation he found on the vanity, and a little bit of lipstick that was also sitting there. The effect was almost perfect. Only a few things remained. He retrieved Cindy's jewelry box and selected a necklace, a watch, a bracelet, a couple of rings and a pair of earrings that all seemed to work well together. The only problem was with the earrings. All of Cindy's earrings were for pierced ears . . . no clip-on styles. He rummaged through the three small drawers of the vanity and found what he was looking for . . . a small sewing kit. He took a needle from the kit, and grimacing with pain, pushed it through his earlobes at what he thought was the right spot. He held tissues to the holes until the bleeding stopped, and then slipped the wires of the earrings through the holes. One final touch remained. He had seen a kit of press-on fingernails in one of the top dresser drawers, and painstakingly glued them on top of his own nails. Following the instructions on the package, he shaped them with an emery board into a feminine taper, and then coated them with a pink nail polish.
He crossed the room, back to the full-length mirror to check himself out, reveling in the feel of the light fabric of the dress gently brushing his nylon-clad legs as he walked. What stared back at him from the mirror was an image of near-perfection. If this creature were to walk down the street in any city, nobody would ever guess that there was a man under that clothing and makeup. He glanced at his borrowed watch, and realized he didn't have much time left before Rusty would return. He hurried back out into the great room, and started preparing what he hoped would be a fine dinner. When the meal was almost ready he set the table for two, including two candles in the center of the table, turned out most of the lights and found some old vinyl records with soft music to play on Rusty's ancient stereo. If Rusty's fantasy had been to have a woman share his home with him over the winter, Paul would do his best to create the illusion of that fantasy becoming a reality.
Suddenly realizing that he'd meant to put on some perfume as well, and had forgotten, Paul darted back into the bedroom and found a bottle of perfume with the same brand and scent as the bath powder he'd used earlier. He came out of the bedroom into the dimly lit great room smelling every bit as beautiful as he looked. And he DID look beautiful, if he said so himself. Paul reentered the room through his door just as Rusty was entering through the cabin's front door. Paul stopped dead in his tracks and waited for Rusty's reaction. Rusty peered across the dimly lit room at what appeared to be one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen.
"Oh my God, I can't believe . . ." he started to exclaim. His big smile grew even broader, as he hung his parka on a hook at the door. "You're b-b-b-b-beautiful! This is absolutely un-b-b-b-b-believable!" he stuttered, as he took in the whole scene with wide eyes moving between Paul, the table, the rest of the room and back to Paul.
"You like?" asked Paul, turning a slow pirouette, causing the skirt of his dress to flare out and upwards slightly, showing just a bit more leg than was visible when he was just standing by the bedroom door.
Rusty couldn't answer. He was caught speechless, but enthusiastically nodded his head in affirmation. They sat down to eat, and Rusty stayed silent throughout the meal, smiling as he alternately glanced at Paul and stared down at his food, blushing periodically. Wanting to give the big redhead time to adjust, Paul didn't push the conversation issue.
When they'd finished eating, Paul got up and started clearing the dishes from the table. The record changer had dropped the third of the albums Paul had previously selected onto the turntable . . . a Righteous Brothers album . . . and Bill Medley was singing the opening words of "Unchained Melody". Paul was at the sink, with his back to the room, when he felt Rusty's hand on his shoulder. He turned to face the big man, who looked noticeably nervous.
"W-w-w-would you dance with me?" Rusty asked.
Smiling, Paul said "This will be my first time ever NOT leading, but I'll give it a try." and put his hands up on Rusty's broad shoulders, close to his neck. Rusty wrapped his right arm half-way around Paul's body, with his right hand coming to rest in the small of Paul's back, just above Paul's waist. His left arm wrapped halfway around Paul from the opposite direction, with his left hand coming to rest on the back of Paul's neck.
Paul felt the breast forms flatten slightly, captured between his chest and Rusty's stomach, as the big man drew Paul's body tight to his. They swayed gently to the music for about a minute before Paul realized that there was something pressing against his belly that wasn't nearly as noticeable when they first started dancing. He brought his hands down to Rusty's chest, and gently pushed the big man away a few inches.
"Rusty," Paul said, pointing at the expanding bulge behind the zipper of the big man's pants, "No matter what I may look like, you need to remember that behind this female facade, I'm a man, too."
"It won't be easy, but I'll do my best to control myself." Rusty said, pulling Paul back to him. And then, in a faint whisper in Paul's ear: "At least, as long as you want me to."
The song ended, and they broke apart, both of them looking somewhat flustered. Paul busied himself cleaning up after the dinner meal, and Rusty went about his nightly routine of filling the two wood stoves with fresh wood, carrying out ashes, checking the battery levels for the solar fueled electrical system, and checking the fuel level of the backup generators. By the time they'd both finished their chores, they were both exhausted, and headed off to bed in their respective bedrooms.
Paul was in the bathroom, brushing his teeth and relieving himself, when he heard a soft rhythmic thumping sound coming from the other side of the door to Rusty's room. Paul smiled a little devilishly when he realized that the big man was relieving the pressures of the evening through masturbation. It was amazing how much power a change of clothes, a few adornments and a feminine scent could wield over a man.
Paul finished up, and went back to his own bedroom to get undressed. He decided he didn't want to deal with removing the breast forms tonight, since he really didn't know how stubborn that adhesive would be. Besides, he'd gotten used to the extra weight hanging off the front of his chest, and rather enjoyed the sensation against his chest when the fake tits pressed into something, as they did with Rusty's stomach. So he left the breast forms, bra and panties in place, and put the rest in the laundry basket in the closet. He found a silky nightgown that came to just above his knees in one of the dresser drawers, and slipped it on over his head and arms. When he pulled the nightgown out, he noticed a box, a little less than a foot long and about 2" by 2", which he hadn't noticed before, hiding under some of the naughtier nighties. He opened it to check the contents, and giggled lightly to himself with some embarrassment, at the sight of an anatomically near-perfect dildo, about 9 inches long and about an inch and a half thick, with a battery compartment and a switch at the base, right above the attached weighted sack that served as the toy's scrotum. He flipped the switch, and the artificial penis began vibrating. He giggled nervously again, turned the vibrator off and returned it to its box.
He slid into bed, taking pleasure in the feel of the silky negligee between his skin and the sheets, and in the feel of the breast forms pressing against his chest whenever he rolled too far onto his side towards his belly. He dreamed that night. Dreams like he'd never had before. He had dreams where he was himself, engaging in gay sex with Rusty, and he had dreams where he was no longer himself, but was a woman, being made love to by Rusty.
He woke up around 1 AM with a raging hard-on, and realized he was still wearing his wig and makeup. Intending to remove them, he flipped on the nightstand light, and caught his reflection in the mirror. Instead of the man he'd been for his whole adult life, he saw a woman he'd love to make love to. So, rather than taking off the makeup and wig, Paul opened the dresser drawer containing the vaginal lubricating suppositories, and took one out of the box. He slipped his panties down and off his legs, and then took up a kneeling position at the foot of the bed, with his knees about a foot apart. He lowered his ass toward the bed until his cheeks were spread and his anus opened up slightly. He unwrapped the suppository, and pressed the bullet-shaped capsule, pointed end first, up inside him until his muscles took over and pulled the foreign object out of range of his fingers.
He could feel his body heat immediately start to melt the lubricant, and he didn't want any to start dripping out of him, so he quickly reached over to the dresser, pulled the box with the dildo from its drawer, and dropped backwards onto the bed, lying on his back with his legs spread, his knees bent and pointing upwards, and the soles of his feet flat on the sheet. He took the phallus from its box, and placed its head against his rosebud and started to gently push it into himself. It was difficult, and somewhat painful, at first. But after a few minutes he was able to relax his muscles enough to get the head in just past the sphincter ring. Once that much was inside him, his normal muscle contractions helped draw the rest in, with minimal pressure from his hand, and almost no pain whatsoever. And, my God, the pleasure he felt! It was a sensation like nothing he'd ever experienced! Lights were flashing in his head, and bells were ringing in parts of his body that he'd had no idea could ever feel any sort of sexual stimulation, as he slowly worked the dildo back and forth in his ass. He flipped the switch of the vibrator, and completely lost control. There was neither a need nor an ability to work the device in and out of himself with his hand. All he could do was lay and wait, as the sexual pressures built, until his legs and ass-cheeks started quivering and cramping. Suddenly, his legs straightened of their own volition, and his cock spewed hot cum all over his belly and the inside of his nightgown.
After turning off the sex toy and resting a few minutes, he took several tissues from the box on the nightstand. He used two to clean up the mess on his belly, and used two more to wipe the plastic cock clean as he pulled it from his ass. Putting the dildo back in its box, and making a mental note to clean it more thoroughly in the morning, Paul selected another nightgown and changed out of the one he'd just messed up. He wondered briefly if getting fucked by another man would feel as good as that episode just felt. He made a quick run to the bathroom, where he squirted out the excess lubricant, wiped himself clean and pulled his panties back on. He returned to bed and switched out the light, dropping his head to the pillow with the wig and makeup still in place. He'd pretty much decided that they were going to be a full-time part of his persona for the next few months, so he might as well sleep with them. He drifted off to sleep again, amid dreams of Rusty and the bulge in his pants.
The next two weeks saw a gradual change in Paul, from several respects. He had, almost instinctively, taken on all the household chores that would normally be considered "women's work". He took care of all the cooking, cleaning, and laundry, leaving Rusty with a little bit of extra time for the other chores, like his trap lines and chopping firewood. Paul still had plenty of free time on his hands. Rusty had brought the rest of Cindy's things in from the storage shed in for him . . . three large boxes. He did find two sweat suits, a couple pairs of jeans and some not-so-feminine blouses in the mix, but he no longer had an interest in them. He had grown much too fond of the feel of the more feminine attire to go back to the drabness of unisex clothing. There were also a few swimsuits, which were obviously not appropriate for this time of year, which went back into one of the boxes, along with the unwanted unisex clothing, destined to return to the shed.
Cindy also had had a fairly large collection of women's magazines, which Paul started studying in his spare time. With the help of the magazines, he was able to improve his expertise in makeup application, learning the secrets of using eye shadow, eye liner and mascara. He also found some hairstyles that he thought would work on his own hair when it grew a little longer, so he could, possibly, maintain his feminine appearance without needing a wig. There were a few other items of some curiosity to him. It seemed that Cindy, at some point during her fight against cancer, had probably had a hysterectomy, since there were several large pill bottles of replacement female hormones as well as several more boxes of the same vaginal suppositories he'd found in the dresser. These he set aside, but didn't earmark them for return to the storage shed. His conscious mind saw them mostly as a curiosity. His subconscious mind undoubtedly saw a potential for future use in them.
Two weeks into his stay at the cabin, he and Rusty had settled in on the couch after their dinner, and were watching the single snowy channel on the TV. They noted, with interest, that the search for "missing millionaire software genius Paul Taylor" was ongoing, with no leads to date. His "distraught wife, Patti" gave an urgent plea to the public to pass any information anyone had on to the police. Paul's feelings were a mixture of nostalgia for the life he had known but currently couldn't live, rage for his lying two-faced wife and amusement over the irony of the fact while that he was very much safe and sound, Patti probably thought him dead. After the news, a movie came on, and Paul and Rusty settled in for a relaxing evening.
It wasn't a large couch, only slightly longer than a love seat, and because of Rusty's size the two had little choice but to sit rather close together . . . only a few inches apart. At some point during the movie Paul dozed off, and woke up a short time later leaning well to the left, with his head resting on the right side of the big man's chest. Rusty's right arm was across the back of the couch behind Paul, the backs of his fingers resting lightly against the silky material of the shoulder of Paul's dress. Paul awoke with a start, more than a little embarrassed by his positioning.
"Sorry about that" he said, straightening himself up, and adjusting the hem of his dress, which had crept up to about mid-thigh, exposing the suspender straps of his garter belt.
"That's quite alright" replied the big man. "In fact, I actually was enjoying it."
At that, Paul gave Rusty a little smile and returned to his former position, with his head resting on Rusty's chest. The earlier news story had disturbed him somewhat, and tonight he felt a need to be held and comforted.
In fact, the past few days Paul had begun to think of himself less and less as a man, and more and more as a woman. And the woman in him wanted Rusty to hold him and never let go. Rusty picked up on Paul's return to a "cuddling" posture immediately, and dropped his right hand to cup Paul's right shoulder and draw his housemate even closer. With his left hand he reached across and gently lifted Paul's chin until their eyes met. Paul needed no further encouragement. Willing all the remaining maleness from "her" mind, "she" reached up with her free right hand and pulled Rusty's head toward "her" own, until their lips met. The kiss started soft and tentative, but when Paul parted her lips, inviting Rusty's tongue to explore her mouth, at became hard and passionate. Suddenly, Rusty drew back.
"Paul, I think . . ." Rusty started to object. But Paul just removed her hand from behind Rusty's head and pressed her index finger against Rusty's lips to stop his statement in mid-sentence.
"Shhhh! Don't think. Just enjoy. And, from now on, maybe you should start calling me "Paula" instead of "Paul".
She took her finger from his lips and dropped her hand. As he pulled her closer and their lips met again, she moved her hand to cover the growing bulge in the front of his pants, and starting massaging it to an even greater size. As she alternatively massaged and worked at his belt and zipper to free the stiffening organ, he moved his left hand to her nylon-encased knee, and upwards under the hem of her dress. She spread her legs slightly to give him easier access. Their kiss continued as she grasped has cock and started to slowly stroke it, while he caressed the soft skin of her upper thighs, in that especially sensitive area between the tops of her stockings and the lace trim of her panties.
Although she'd seen it several times in her dreams, Paula still hadn't gotten even a glimpse of Rusty's cock in this, the real world. She wanted to see it, taste it and experience it, so she pulled back from his kiss and broke his embrace. She slid to her knees on the floor between his feet. Suddenly, there it loomed in front of her face . . . easily eight inches, maybe as much as nine or ten inches in length, and at least an inch and a half thick. She looked up to his face, batting her eyelashes a little and trying to look just a bit naïve and coquettish, and said "I've never done this before, so I don't know how good it will be, but I'll give it my best try." With that she leaned forward and touched the tip of her tongue to the end of his cock, and started licking the little beads of pre-cum that had formed at the tip of the organ, and then licked all over the head of Rusty's cock. She'd only imagined the taste before. Now she finally got to savor the slightly salty taste of cock. She kissed the head, and then opened her lips, allowing Rusty's swollen member entrance into her mouth. She slowly started a rhythmic bobbing of her head, allowing him deeper entry into her mouth with each downward motion of her head, working her tongue up and down the shaft, until she felt the head reach her throat, almost causing her to gag.
Rusty picked up on her rhythm and began matching it with his hips, his cock swelling longer and thicker. Finally he let out a moan. His cock twitched twice and let loose a load of hot cum into Paula's mouth and down her throat. She swallowed what she could, with only a small amount escaping from the corners of her mouth, which she promptly recaptured by driving her face all the way down his shaft, burying her face in Rusty's red pubic hair.
She continued to suck him dry as he began softening in her mouth. Finally she released him, and looked up at him sheepishly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that" she apologized. "It's OK" he replied. "I'm every bit as much to blame as you are for getting carried away. And I can't say that I didn't enjoy it."
"Quite honestly, I can't either" she replied. "I don't know what came over me. I've never done anything like that before, but somehow I don't think it'll be the last time. I know I've never enjoyed any other sexual act as much." Then she carefully tucked his now-soft cock back into his pants, zipped him back up, and went back to her regular spot on the couch, resting her head against the side of his chest.
The rest of the evening passed without event until it was bedtime. As they headed for their bedrooms Paula stopped Rusty and pulled him to her. Standing on tiptoe, she pulled his head down to her level
"We need to talk about this" she said, "but not until tomorrow." With that she kissed him on the lips, gave his hand a squeeze, and slipped off into her room, closing the door behind her. She felt strange . . . glowing, almost as if she'd been sunbathing on the beach. Yet, there was something lacking. She had a feeling of not quite being fulfilled. She stripped herself naked, put on a negligee, and got one of the lubricating suppositories from the dresser drawer and the dildo from the closet. She put one foot up on the bed, unwrapped the suppository, and slid it up inside her. She slid in between the cool sheets, pulled her negligee up out of the way, and with her eyes closed so that she could imagine it was Rusty's cock, she pressed the dildo into her ass. Even without moving it around or turning it on, she felt a warm feeling of completeness overtake her. She dropped off to sleep, impaled on the dildo, imagining it was her lover inside her.
Paula was up long before Rusty the next morning. By the time he came staggering out of his room she'd already made coffee, showered, dressed (just a little bit provocatively for the morning) and had breakfast just about ready.
"My God! What time is it? I NEVER sleep this late!" he exclaimed, as he stumbled toward the table. The aroma of pancakes and sausage filled the cabin, and was undoubtedly what had awoken him.
"It's 20 of 9" Paula answered, with a cheerful smile. "I figured you were really tired, so I let you sleep in."
"Wow! I guess I was. Now I'm really hungry, and that smells delicious! By the way, you LOOK pretty delicious yourself".
Paula blushed. She hoped she hadn't gone overboard with her choice of an outfit this morning. She'd picked out a sheer pink silk blouse that showed the black bra she was wearing, and a very tight, rather short, black satin skirt. "Thanks. I try. Rusty, we really do need to talk about last night."
"Yeah. I'm really sorry about that. I didn't mean to get carried away and take advantage of you, but it's been so long since I'd been with a woman, and you looked and smelled just like a woman should, and I just sort of . . ."
"Whoa there, mister! You didn't take advantage of me!" Paula exclaimed. "If anything, I took advantage of YOU. No apologies! But I do want you to answer a question for me, and I want you to be totally honest."
"Ask away. Honesty is my middle name."
"Did you enjoy last night?"
Rusty blushed. "Yeah, I've got to admit that I did."
Paula stepped in closer to him . . . close enough to be sure that the scent of her perfume would reach him . . . and took both of his hands in hers. "I did too. Very much so. But . . . "
"But?"
"But, when we were all finished, I sort of felt like we really weren't finished. There was something missing. At least for me."
"You don't mean that you wanted me to suck your . . . NO! I don't think I could do that! Nothing personal, but I just don't think I could go that route."
"No, no, no!" Paula moved in just a little closer to Rusty, and held his hands even tighter. "That's not where I was trying to go with this at all! That's not what I was hoping for!"
"What then?"
"What I want . . . no, what I NEED . . . is for you to fully treat me like a real woman. It's not enough for me to just be able to suck your cock. I need to have that cock buried deep inside me. I need for you to take me to your bed, or for you to come to my bed, and make love to me like I was your wife or girlfriend. I don't want to just keep on dreaming of you. I need for those dreams to be reality. I need to fall asleep at night with the feeling of fullness that only being well-fucked can bring, and with your arms around me. I need to wake up in the morning with you lying beside me, with your arms still around me."
Rusty stepped back, a look of amazement and confusion on his face. "Geez, I don't know. I mean, when you're walking around dressed as a woman, smelling like a woman and looking for all the world like a woman, my mind has no problem imagining you're a woman. And last night, while you were . . . you know . . . I had no problem closing my eyes and imagining that it was a woman down there between my legs taking care of my needs. But, in bed together, with our clothes off . . . I think that would be a different story. I mean, there'd always be that one thing coming between us. Literally."
"Look Rusty. Just give it some thought today. I understand where you're coming from, but I can leave the breast forms on, and wear a sexy negligee when we're making love. That might help you maintain the illusion. But try to look at it from my point of view, too. I first dressed in Cindy's clothes out of necessity, but added the other touches, like the breast forms and makeup, because it seemed to please you. I have no problem with any of that. And I started taking care of the cooking and housework because I wanted to do my share of the chores around here to earn my keep, and not only are you better suited, physically and from an experience standpoint, than I am for things like chopping wood and tending your trap line, but it's pretty obvious that my clothes aren't well suited for that type of work. Besides, I think I'm a much better cook and 100 times better at housecleaning than you are."
With that, Rusty broke out into his first smile of the morning. "Boy, isn't THAT the truth?" he laughed.
"But," Paula continued, "in a way, I'm sort of like an actor who spends weeks living the role he's going to be playing, but then the play gets canceled on opening night. I fell into the role of your fantasy woman that you get snowed in with for the winter. I dressed the part, and started living the part. Last night was the `dress rehearsal'. Now I'm just looking to start playing the part for real."
"OK. I'll think about it while I'm out today, but no promises. I'm about as heterosexual as they come, so this is a big hurdle for me to get over."
"That seems fair enough to me. Just give it some serious thought." And with that she stepped up to him, stood on tiptoes, pulled his head down towards hers and gave him a little kiss on the cheek. "Out the door with you, then." she said, helping him into his heavy coat. "There's a trap line out there somewhere that needs tending."
She spent most of the rest of the day getting the cabin spotless and doing the preliminary work for what she hoped would be the best dinner Rusty had ever had. After all, they say that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. When all that was out of the way, and still with several hours to spare before Rusty would be home, she pulled out Cindy's old women's magazines, and practiced some of the makeup techniques in them. She wanted to make this evening as close to perfect as possible.
Her timing with the dinner was perfect. Everything was just finishing up when she heard the sound of Rusty's snowmobile approaching. By the time he'd parked it in the barn and had walked up to the house she'd gotten everything served up, lit the two candles she'd set on the table and turned out the other lights in the cabin. Rusty walked in to see her looking her absolute best, sitting at the table wearing a gorgeous blue satin cocktail dress.
"Wow! You really went all-out tonight, didn't you?" he exclaimed.
Paula laughed. "You can't blame me for trying to add a little more to the illusion. After all, it's all smoke and mirrors anyway, so why not make more smoke and use more mirrors? C'mon. Sit and eat. You've GOT to be hungry!"
They exchanged idle chit-chat over the meal, discussing the storm clouds Rusty saw on the horizon late in the day, and how the canyon was showing no signs of opening up again anytime soon. It brought on the first thought Paula had had in over a week about her eventual ability to get back to civilization and regain her life as Paul, but it was only a fleeting thought. At this point she wasn't even sure that she really wanted that life back again anyway. True, she longed to get her hands back on a keyboard to start producing magical code again. She just wasn't sure whether she really wanted to do it as Paul or as Paula. She had really grown to enjoy this new existence. One of the wild cards in the deck was Rusty's decision, the topic she really wanted to discuss, but didn't want to press him too hard in that direction.
The meal finished, she started clearing the table and washing the dishes while Rusty refilled the wood stoves. Then they settled in on the couch to watch the snowy TV, Rusty's arm around her shoulder and she leaning contentedly into his chest. She hoped he'd bring up the subject of that morning's discussion, but he sat watching in silence. At one point she'd thought she'd won, when he absentmindedly dropped his hand to her leg and started gently stroking the inside of her thigh just under the hem of her dress. But as soon as he realized what he was doing he withdrew his hand. Finally, with the late news over, he stood up and announced his need to get to bed, citing a long day tomorrow. Paula did her best to conceal her disappointment as they headed for their respective rooms.
Sadly, she returned the satin dress to its place in the closet and slipped a pink silk negligee on. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she was just about to unhook her stockings from her garter belt when she heard the tapping at the door that led to the shared bathroom.
"Rusty? Are you OK?"
"I'm fine, but can you join me in my bedroom?"
Paula's heart leapt a mile! Could this be it? Could that invitation be the answer she was desperately waiting for? Rusty had never before invited her into his room for anything. In fact, she had never been in there at the same time as Rusty . . . only alone, to clean it.
"Sure, Rusty! Just give me a couple of minutes." she replied. Leaving her stockings and garter belt on . . . she knew most men considered them very sexy . . . she slipped her shoes back on and opened the dresser drawer that contained her supply of lubricating suppositories. Operating on the assumption that what she'd spent the day hoping for was, indeed, about to happen, she took two of the suppositories from the box. She knew from the previous night that Rusty was larger than her trusty dildo, and figured that she just might need some extra lubrication. She was about to close the drawer when she noticed Cindy's hormone pills that she'd shoved into the back of the drawer a few days before. She pulled them out and read the labels. Three of the big blue pills, twice a day, and two of the smaller white tablets, three times a day. Of course, Paula had no idea what effect these medications might have on her, or how long they would take to have an effect at all, but she was feeling adventurous . . . even reckless. "What the hell," she thought, "my life's turned into one big experiment anyway, so why not experiment a little more?"
She shook out three blues and two whites and headed with her cache of pills and suppositories for the bathroom. She washed the pills down with a glass of water, unwrapped the bullet-shaped lubricants, pulled down her panties a bit and pushed the bullets up into herself, pressing the first one as deep as she could get it and the second one about half as deep. Her heart pounding, she readjusted her panties, washed her hands and opened the door to Rusty's room.
The lights were out, and the two candles she'd set up on the kitchen table for their recent candlelight dinner were on the nightstands on either side of Rusty's big bed. Rusty was sitting up in bed, apparently naked, with the covers pulled up over his lap to his waist. "We can try this one time," he said "but if I don't like it, that'll be the end of it. Okay?"
Paula smiled. "Sure! Sort of like driving a car around the block before you buy it. You have to make sure you enjoy the ride before you make a commitment." With that she walked over to the empty side of the bed, slipped off her heels and slid between the sheets next to Rusty's warm body.
She started soft and slow, first kissing him on the lips, then nuzzling his neck. Slowly, almost cautiously, she worked her mouth and tongue lower and lower down his body, until she was in a kneeling position between his legs with her mouth now within reach of his rapidly stiffening cock. She worked her tongue around the head of the organ, and then up and down the shaft, before allowing her lips to engulf it and suck it in towards her throat. She wanted to give him a little reminder of her ministrations of the previous night, but a simple blow job wasn't her objective tonight. Just enough to get him good and hard, and mentally prepared for what was about to happen.
She always wore the straps of her garters under her panties and out through the leg holes to make dropping them to go to the bathroom less of a chore. >From her current position it was easy to slide her panties down to her knees. She only needed to maneuver a little bit to get them past her knees, and then slide them off completely, leaving her naked below the waist except for the garter belt and stockings. As she pulled the panties the rest of the way off to drop them off the side of the bed, she felt a small damp spot in the rear portion of the crotch area. The lubricating suppositories had already started to melt, and a few drops had already leaked out of her ass.
She started slowly working her way back up his torso with her tongue, until her mouth was level with his, and her rosebud was close to the head of Rusty's cock. Her lips met his, and she invited his tongue to explore her open mouth while she reached back, lifted his cock slightly, and positioned its tip right at her opening. The kiss was becoming passionate, making it difficult for her to break it off, but she managed to do so and rocked back slightly, causing the tip of his cock to put pressure on her opening.
She alternately flexed and relaxed her muscles in that area, drawing the head slightly deeper into her with each relaxation, until all but the widest part of the head was past the tight little ring of muscle that guarded her hole. When that part finally popped past the opening there was a searing pain, but it lasted only a few seconds, and then was replaced with a glorious feeling of fullness as the bulk of his shaft slid smoothly through the opening, plunging him deep inside her.
She began rocking forward and back, driving him deeper and deeper into her with every backwards rock. Rusty picked up the rhythm she was setting, and began thrusting upward into her to match each of her downward strokes. Just when she thought she couldn't get him any deeper into her, he wrapped his arms around her, pulled her body down to meet his, and rolled so that she was on her back with her nylon stocking-clad legs at his waist and he lying right on top of her.
She wrapped her legs completely around his waist, hooking her ankles together behind his back, as he drove deeper into her, pounding away at her ass. He was pounding deeper than she'd been able to get him when she was on top, and far deeper than she'd ever gotten the dildo to penetrate. His pounding developed a rhythm that increased in tempo as he pressed deeper and deeper into her. Minutes later she felt her own body stiffen in spasms that reverberated ecstatically through her body. Only a few seconds after that first wave of spasms she felt Rusty's cock twitch a few times, grow even larger, and finally release large gobs of his cum into her ass. With that pouring of his seed into her, a second wave of spasms, even stronger than the first wave, coursed through her body, giving her more pleasure than she'd ever felt at one time before.
Finally, breathing heavily, Rusty collapsed on top of her, flattening her breast forms between her chest and her negligee and doing the same to her tiny (by comparison with Rusty's) cock. It was then that she noticed that she too had relieved some pressures within her, because there was a small gooey wet spot on her belly, under her negligee, just below her garter belt.
They lay together in that position for a few minutes until their heart rates slowed down to closer than normal. Finally, Rusty took the weight of his body off hers, and slowly started pulling himself out of her hole. After lying together, regaining their strength, for a few minutes, Paula slipped out of bed and headed for the bathroom to clean up. The front of the negligee was soaked with her own cum, so after wiping her belly and ass clean, she tossed the soiled nightgown into the dirty laundry in her own room and pulled another, equally silky and sexy, one from the closet and slid it down over her head. When she returned to Randy's bed she brought along a warm damp washcloth, and gently cleaned his cock for him. After taking the washcloth back to the bathroom and dropping it into the sink, she rejoined Rusty in bed and asked "Well, how was the test drive?"
"Wow!" was all Rusty could reply, as he pulled her down to him. She snuggled into his chest, while he wrapped his big arms around her and held her close. And that's how they fell asleep, in each other's arms.
TO BE CONTINUED