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Let's go downstairs, Martin said. I understood, we didn't want to attract attention by our absence.
We could assume Monique was there, and we were both missing.
Of course, a lot of people were more or less drunk anbd probably didn't care, if anyone was missing.
On the other hand, Monique had certainly told the other girls what had or hadn't happened in her room with Martin, which of course focused the girls' attention on him.
I stripped down, took a quick shower and came out of the bathroom naked.
Martin was watching me, he seemed to be looking mostly at my ass.
I tried to block his view so he couldn't see my clitty, I didn't want to spoil my girly image. It was bad enough that I had wear men's clothes.
Did you like it? How did I fuck you? He asked.
He was a teenager, with a head full of blow jobs, fucking and shit. He was a boy who needed admiration. He considered himself an exceptional
guy, and therefore an exceptional lover, simply the best.
He probably didn't know, he could hear only one answer from me. Not just because I loved our lovemaking, or for him it was fucking, but here were all these emotions triggered by the circumstances. I loved it all. I even loved the pain I felt at the beginning. It was the price I had to pay to become a woman. And above all, I was in love with him, the man of my dreams And that's why it must have been a great experience, the best in my life so far, , because of him, the one I loved so much, the centre of my life, my desire from the very first day we met.
Never felt anything better, than your...you in me, when you did it to me..my voice has broken, because I wanted told it differently , I wanted
to express all my feelienggs and emotions and love, and what I felt
when I was loved with his cock inside me. But I knew, I was just a substitute for Monique, maybe better than a wank. But the feeling, that I was just a hole he needed to drive away his frustration was strangely arousing. I felt great beacause I'd proven, that I could do anything for him, for his satisfaction and I needed to prove that, to myself and to him. Maybe
he didn't plan on ever touching me again, but he probably knew I was here, ready to submit to any of his needs.
No woman could resist, Martin, I added because I knew my man and I knew he wanted to hear that he is an exceptional lover.
My words hung in the air.
The conversation was a litttle bizarre. Before we slept together he talked to me like any of his teenage friends, he talked about screwing and blow jobs but these fuckers was imaginary or real girls but it never occurred to us that I might be the one he fucked one day, even be his first. The first to moan with pleasure as his hard cock moved inside me, filling me up. >From now on, our roles .
have been defined. He was a man and I was his sissy. He was a man and I was his willing lover.
But it was still weird somehow, we were classmates, friends, two guys.
He'd liked to have fun with Monique, even tonight. OK, things were a little different with me, but I didn't expect to be here tonight with my guts full of his semen.
But even under the circumstances, perhaps he was honored that I considered him excellent, or perhaps more than excellent, lover. And he was happy to have sex, even if not with Monique, but me in this
sexy outfit.
I looked at him and almost told him how much I loved him. But luckily I
held back the words at the last minute. Or should I have said it?
I looked at him again. I Pulled out another pair of panties and put them on. He looked at me with genuine interest.
Truth was, those panties were pretty interesting, especially for a horny boy.
Red boy shorts, really thight. And with an opening in the right place I was not sure what it might be like for a man, but for me it was very exciting, enjoying my shapes through the shiny fabric of the panties. It made shapes even more appealing.
We went downstairs, where Martin ignored me. He was talking to the guys, who had already gotten laid or tried it with a some girl.
Monique was talking to other girls.
From time to time Martin would cast a quick glance at my direction.
At one point he stood up, looked at me, moved his head slightly, and then headed for the bathroom. I waited a moment and then went in there too.
We were alone in there, Martin walked over to me, stuck his hand down
my shorts and started whispering to me, while he stroked my ass.
Well, tell them you're tired, go to the room and get ready.
Then he left.
I got dizzy and had to grab the sink. It was because of the emotions that rose up in me. Happiness, love, sexual excitement. After the previous rather spontaneous fucking, or love making as I called it, I was not sure, if he would ever want to do it again.
As far as I was concerned, there was no doubt , at least his horniness made him want to use me again. It was probably his first fuck and the situation could be considered as sort of unwanted. But it was also probably very tempting for him, this sissy was wearing a really sexy items, she was very willing, Whenever he wanted , he just took her. He must have been attracted to her in some way
It could only happen because of circumstances, his eagerness, the
frustration from unfulfilled expectations with Monique, my sexy lingerie and other things. And that made me his sissy.
When I recovered, I went back to the table I was sitting at, told the people I had talked to earlier, that I wasn't feeling well and that I was tired and left. --- When I got to the room, I stripped, lubed up, and tried to open my pussy for Martin's lecherous lovemaking. I put the bottle of lube on the bed.
I put on my panties, pulled out my red fishnet stockings and put them on as well. If I only had my pumps here, I'm sure he would have loved them.
I've heard a soft knock.
Yes, I answered it.
It's me, Martin said.
I opened the dor.
He imediatly took me in his arms. I just sighed. He started kissing me. Roughly.
He slipped his tongue into my mouth, exploring me, moving his tongue
from side to side. I had to hold on to him, so I wouldn't fall. I was like a drunk, my head was spinning, I felt so vulnerable because I knew I was absolutely in this guy's power. The guy I was so attracted to, the guy I was now addicted to.
I slid my hand down to his crotch to feel, oh it was so beautiful, so hard, so powerful, like his whole person
He pushed me down on to bed.
The panties and fishnets worked as expected. Although he had fed me his semen twice that night, he was clearly
aroused, his sexual feelings overwhelmed and change him into a beast.
He moaned like an animal looking forward to devouring his prey. His hands quickly slid down and up my thighs,, pulling at the mesh of my fishnet stockings . He covered me with his body.
I spread my legs. He moved between them, pulled his cock out and alined it with my pussy.
He paid no attention to the lube next to him. How I loved him, my selfish arrogant lover, he just wanted to enjoyed himself and he had no doubt at all that I would be more than willing.
And that I would be grateful for the privilege of being fucked by him. And of course I was, I was always willing, and I never refused. --- He took me by the knees and roughly lift my legs up.
The sight of my whore stockings must have sent him into another wave of sex fever.
He put my legs on his shoulders, brutally biting my thigh through my stockings while putting his hand over my mouth to stop me of
screaming. --- I was so opened, so ready, so willing , so in total control, when
this beast was controlling me. What a lucky sissy I was, no one could be happier at the moment. The only thought in my head was: now he's going to stick his hard cock in me again and fuck me like I wanted.
He pushed...and I felt him inside me again. I felt this thrilling moment when my pussy opened and the penis went in and nothing prevented the mating from starting. The sphincter was just triing to feign some resistance, but a real man knows that there is no resistance, that there is only a willing sissy beneath him, eager to be filled with his seed. A slight whimper escaped my lips.
He looked into my eyees and watched my face to see how I liked it, how I liked his amazing cock in my cunnie. I was happy to have a face with delicate features that could play a woman's or a girl's face. I've learned how to apply my makeup, after a few years of practicing in front of the mirror when no one was home. I started to feel like a girl when I was little kid and shortly after I put on my first pantyhose, I tried to make myself a better woman by applying lipstick and eye-shadow.
So Martin was looking at my made up face, the make up was a bit heavy. I knew I had to be different from Monique. She was his sweet, fragile girl who needed to be seduced and who needed to hear and listen to his sweet words whispered in her ears.
So I had to be the slut, the whore, who opened her legs on demand. As a sissy I knew men well and I knew that they could loved whores as much as their girlfriends and wifes. I was the one, who succumbed immediately afterr seeing his hard cock ready to fuck. Or maybe I succumbed ' much sooner. And I was the one who listened to the words from sleazy porn flicks whispered to my ears while feeling his furious thrusts in my mouth or cunt.
Martin begun to make long, slow motions. Later I found out, that his lovemaking went like this But he made each thrust with such force, that I had to squeal every time I felt the hit.
The slow movements of his cock inside me allowed me to feel the journey of his cock into my bowels.
A month or so after our first lovemaking, he stripped Monique of her virginity just as he had stripped it of me. Then he move from one of his lover to another. From the girlfriend to the slut. and from the slut to the beloved girlfriend
Monique was, of course, moody and didn't always give in to him.
But at these moments, I was there, ready to be sexy and willing whenever
he wanted. me to be. Probably the fate of a sissy. But truth be told all the sissies love the fate. I wanted to feel his penis inside me, and the more the better. --- Martin's family was well endowed, so he started buying me clothes inspired by his porn collection. He also took inspiration from scenes of porn stars so I could end up in the shower one day, on my back in bed the next, , on all fours, on my knees, bent over the hood of a car. I didn't know what he was doing with Monique but probably she refused to do certain things.
Of course, I was jealous , especially when I was home alone in bed and I knew he is with her. In those moments I picked up the dildo, , slowly opened myself looking at my spread legs in my stockings and imagining him between my legs, imagining that the dildo that had just slid in there was him, his hard penis.
I remember the phone ringing at the most unexpected times and just a few words and I, always doing as asked. Rushing in the heavy rain, under the blood red sky of dawn, in the summer heat, on a frosty early morning.
When our date was at his house, I walked up to the door, rang the bell, he opened the door and went to his room,. I went into the bathroom, got ready, either as instructed or sometimes it was up to me, even though I knew his taste and knew what pleased and excited him . Sometimes the clothes were ready in the bathroom.
I just put everything on and walked over to him, where his hard cock was already ready to take the cunt or feed the slut the cum the slut liked so much.
I always had the impression that Martin had strong feelings for his mother, I knew that. How many times I saw them whispering like two lovers, when they met in front of our school, she, as a business woman who went to buy lunch and brought lunch for her beloved son. I saw
them as I watched them from our class window. She, still stroking him, covering it up by brushing unvisible dust from his shirt. And he, looking into her beautiful face and whispering something, to her, something that no stranger could hear.
Oedipus complex? Years later I found out that Martin really does not like his father, a succesful business man, one of the successful bad guys. Probably Martin has fought it all his life, Trying to be as successful and as bad as his father. Moving to other town in another state to be far enough away.
So one of those morning, when I came to the call , there was a
moment, when there were clothes in the bathroom, that weren't wrapped the way that things just had bought in an e-shop were. . A Business suit, a peach colored satin tank-top, a white shirt, a peach colored panties, boy-shorts type and a very neat black stockings with a garter belt. All these together with low heeled shoes. I saw the suit outside our school the day before. I picked up one thing after another. The items were lightly scented , The Martin's mom's perfume and the scent of a woman, of her. It was not laundered, it was used clothes, that his mother just wore the day before..
I looked at the clothes, a little confused and strangely aroused. I picked up the panties again. They weren't dirty, They were used but bore no visible traces of anything.. I lifted them to my nose and sniffed. The smell was pleasant, traces of perfume and something else. Probably
the son of the owner of these panties would recognize the scent.
There was no doubt that I was ready to do it for him, for my Martin. I wanted to be his mother-in-bed as well as his whore. I wanted him to love his mother, as he had probably dreamed of doing for so long.
I showered again and checked to see if I had any unwanted hair. Then I dried myself thoroughly.
I looked in the mirror. There was nothing I could do about my dark-
head of short hair., albeit styled into a girly, page-bboy look. Martin's mother was blond, with hair a little longer to her shoulders. And she had more voluptuous figure than me.
As far as make-up was concerned, I could put on more saddle make-up than usual when I was getting ready for Martin
I put on my make-up, put on my dress and put on my shoes. I didn't use my perfume, The one from the clothes was intense enough and it was the scent Martin would be happy to breathe today. I took a deep brathe, open the door and walked out of the bathroom