5 comments/ 114099 views/ 17 favorites My Wonderful Secret Ch. 01 By: Ilbfita I had just turned 18 and my life was hell. Throughout High School I had been bullied and humiliated. When I got to University, the best years of your life some say, I thought things might improve, but they didn't. What was my problem I here you ask? Well, in a nutshell, I was socially and physically under-developed. I didn't reach puberty until I was 17. I was short, skinny, and freckly and could easily have passed as a 12 year old boy for most of my senior school years. Often I got told off by teachers who thought I was in the wrong class because I looked so young. They'd say things like "This is a Year 12 study period, get back to the junior school!" Naturally, all the other students found incidents such as this highly amusing, and I was frequently teased and tormented by them. I felt really bitter toward the whole world. It wasn't my fault that my hormones were so slow to kick in! I had a Doctor check me out, hoping that he would give me some hormones and that everything would be OK. Unfortunately he said I was slow but within the normal range and that one day "It will happen". He wouldn't recommend hormones unless I hadn't developed by the time I was 18. Typical of my luck, puberty did start just before I turned 18, validating the Doctors assessment, but while other boys at 14 appear to grow 2 feet taller and get facial hair and a deep voice in a manner of months, my pubescence positively crawled along. This devastated me, and it didn't help with the day to day teasing I had to endure. Boys were cruel, calling me a "runt" and a "freak", but it was the attitude of the girls that really upset me. They acted like it was my fault. They looked at me with upturned noses. They were nasty, bitchy and hateful toward me. I never hassled them, perved at them, tried to chat them up, or even talked to them. And yet they treated me worse than the assholes who gave them a hard time. Needless to say, I hated my body and myself. I so wanted to be a normal 18 old man. I longed for a girl friend and to be big and strong like the other guys, but there was nothing I could do about it. I was essentially an outcast, and were it not my computer (yes, I was a computer geek as well!) I most likely would have gone mad. Groovy young University students didn't want to hang out with me, and those few kind souls who made the effort to befriend me soon learned that my years of isolation had done nothing for my social skills. I found it hard to make conversation, and had virtually nothing in common with 'normal' people. My University work and general behaviour deteriorated. I plunged into depression and started drinking and experimenting with drugs. This only further alienated me from society. My parents were concerned about me, and let me move into the granny flat in our back yard to give me some "space", away from my brothers and sister. Little did they know what this would lead to. Our Granny flat had been rented to a young hair dresser named Jill until she up and went overseas, chasing her errant fiance. She swore she was coming back within 12 months and my parents, being too kind for their own good, said they would hold the place for her. My Mother packed away all Jill's possessions and locked them in a big brown cupboard in the flat. My clothes were stored in a smaller cupboard near my bed. I settled into my new surroundings very well. It was great to have my own space and to be able to be by myself after a tough day at University. It was not long however, before my thoughts turned to Jill's sexy underwear which I had glimpsed my mother hurriedly stowing into a suitcase and placing inside the cupboard. I knew it was wrong to go through other peoples' things, but I was so lonely and so starved of female company and so curious about all things to do with girls that I just couldn't help myself. It took me about 30 minutes to file away an old cupboard key I had found into one that would unlock the big brown cupboard. My eyes nearly popped out of my head when I opened the cupboard doors for the first time. Not only was there the suitcase full of her unmentionables I had seen previously, but a heap of dresses, blouses, wigs and make-up. I'll never forget the over-powering smell of femininity that hit me every time I opened that cupboard. That's about all I did for the first 3 weeks. I'd just open the cupboard doors and drink in the sweet perfume and let my eyes play over the range of pretty colours and textures that hung from rails or were neatly folded in shelves. Then I started to take things out. Just to feel and smell them. Occasionally I would get so turned on by the flimsy lace knickers or the sexy black bras or whatever that I couldn't help but start to masturbate over them. Then I started to try things on. Single items at first like a bra or panties, which I would tear off almost as soon as I put on, such was my guilt and shame. But as the months past I started to experiment with complete outfits. From humble beginnings I very soon learnt how to pad out a bra and how to tuck my tiny male equipment away to give me more realistic figure. I could not believe how good I looked as a girl. The transformation was so dramatic that I became addicted to dressing up. Almost instantly the ugly, freckly little runt became a normal, healthy, pretty girl. I learnt how to apply a sweet smelling brown liquid which made my freckles disappear. My thin nervous lips took on a sexy, shiny glow with the application of lipstick. My tiny, scrawny body, enhanced with proud, bulging breasts and flattered by a figure hugging dress or blouse and mini skirt, looked every bit like a young girls'. And then my legs, smooth and slender and hairless, the target of so much ridicule, looked positively alluring in black silk stockings or even regular panty hose. I was so happy dressed as a girl. I felt normal! I was no longer a freak. It was an escape from the reality of my everyday misery. Where I had previously sought comfort in drugs and alcohol, I now sought comfort and escape by dressing up. As soon as I got home from Uni, providing my parents were still at work, I would take a hot shower and dress up as a girl. I would then function perfectly normally, doing my study, watching tv, playing on my computer. The only difference was that in costume I felt normal and good about myself, which was in stark contrast between how I normally felt. Initially, I was sexually excited by Jill's clothes and the feel of them against my skin. But it soon became obvious that I was dressing to make myself feel good about myself and because I felt better dressed as a girl. After a while I ceased becoming aroused at all when dressing up, but my desire to dress up never waned. I secretly wished I could go to Uni dressed as a girl. I imagined how all the studs, the ones who used to ridicule me, would want to chat up the "new girl" and ask her out. I imagined how all the girls would want to gossip and giggle with her. She'd be accepted - even admired! But I knew that was only a fantasy. I was a boy. A miserable specimen, but a boy none the less. And no-one would ever believe I was a girl with my hair. Long hair was the rage back then, and even though my curly brown hair touched the top of my collar, it did not look like girls hair. I knew I couldn't have it cut like a girl - that would only be more humiliating - and to my despair Jill's collection of wigs just didn't fit properly or look right. I tried every one of them on, dozens of times each, but to no avail. Then I discovered them! - quite by accident, in a small cardboard box at the back of the cupboard. Hair extensions! Two of which matched my natural colour perfectly. One consisted of a flowing ponytail which slid into my hair via a comb like attachment. It pulled my hair in tight and combined with my inadequate locks to make an impressive show of hair. The second, perhaps the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, was a curly brown piece with long ringlets flowing from each side. It attached to my fringe, augmenting my light brown curls with bigger, more luxurious ones, and the ringlets flowed down in front of my ears. The extra curls on my fringe hung over my forehead and really softened my face. When I first looked in the mirror I nearly fainted. I looked so much like the girl I wanted to look like. I looked like a REAL girl. I was beautiful. I continued to be laughed at or at best, ignored at Uni but somehow it hurt less than before, and somehow the other students sensed that they weren't getting to me like they used to. They would tease me and I would smile back or shrug my shoulders. I was almost smug. I had the most wonderful secret and I no longer cared what they thought or said. I knew how beautiful I could be, and I no longer needed or wanted their approval. They started to tease me less, and focus on some of the other "freaks" in first year. All the while my confidence, behaviour, grades and overall happiness continued to grow. My parents were thrilled with the change in me, and my mother spoke at our church group on how the lord had saved me. Everyone in the church seemed really happy for me, and I truly believed that the Lord had shown me the way. The Lord had led me to the private flat and Jill's cupboard full of goodies. The Lord had provided me with my wonderful secret. I sincerely believed that the Lord wanted me to be a girl. Like most addictions, my dressing up became more and more consuming. I seldom dressed as a boy when at home in the flat, and when I wasn't dressed I spent most of my time thinking about it. I had strong urges to go out dressed as a girl, but I was so afraid of being found out that I convinced myself not to go through with it. That was, until I visited the library one Friday afternoon. The University library was a huge, quiet, friendly and very safe environment. The head librarian kept everyone in line and made sure people kept to themselves. "If you want to socialise, go to the mall." She would whisper angrily at talkers. I figured that if I went there dressed as a girl and someone got suspicious, she would ensure they did not make a scene, and give me the chance to get the hell out of there. But that was not the main reason I thought the library would be a good place to experiment in. Once you got inside there was large locker room which led into the toilets. There was one main entry to the toilets, girls to the right, boys to the left, so you could come out of either toilet and nobody would know which one you had been to. Being so quiet on Friday afternoons, I knew I could slip into the girls toilet dressed as a boy without being noticed, and even if I did, I'd throw on my absent minded geek act. My plan was to take my "girl gear" in my bag to the library. Once inside, after a quick check around, I would slip into the girl's toilet and into a cubicle. There I could don my girl attire and make-up, before heading back into the locker room, stowing my bag, extracting my books, and entering the library proper – as a girl! I planned it for weeks, visiting the library each night, going over my plan time and time again, devising contingency plans, and selecting my outfit carefully. I opted for the jeans and sneakers look. I didn't want to appear too glamorous and attract too much attention. With jeans on (girl jeans of course), I didn't need to worry about my legs, and could concentrate on getting my hair, face and tits just right. Girls who went to the library to study on a Friday evening didn't doll themselves up too much I had observed. They go there to work, and hence wear sensible, comfortable clothes. I opted for a maroon t-shirt and a light pink, long sleeve woollen cardigan. It was winter and I had seen many girls wearing this style of jumper around. Besides, my padded tits looked really good in them! I had nearly perfected applying my makeup, foundation to cover my freckles and soften the look of my skin, crimson lipstick to accentuate and thicken my lips, and just a touch of rouge to redden and highlight my cheeks. I had learnt that less was really more, and was confident my face looked as good as it could. The hair extensions were tricky to get right but with enough practice, and believe me, I had lots of practise, I got the look I wanted. My small compact mirror enabled me to look at my hair from all angles, and I was pretty confident that I could emerge from the girl's toilet looking like a normal girl. I would give myself a final once over in the big mirrors in front of the hand basins. I promised myself that if I didn't look right I could fix it then and there, or dart back into the cubicle. If worse came to worse, I could rub off my makeup and dress back as a boy. The point of no return was when I entered the library itself. I wore my "Outing" outfit each evening for almost a fortnight, just so I could get practise at wearing it and get comfortable in it, even though I longed to wear something more feminine and sexy. I also opted for a pair of round, dark rimmed glasses I had found in Jill's cupboard. They gave me a very serious, studious look. I felt I was ready and promised myself I would do it next Friday. Friday took forever to come around and the day seemed to take 36 hours to complete. But finally the moment arrived. My mother drove me to the library, and apart from enquiring as to why I needed such a big bag, to which I snapped "It's called studying Mother!". I arrived without incident. Taking a deep breath I pushed open the Library doors and went inside. Moments later I was in the girl's toilet in a cubicle tearing off my boy clothes. No-one came in whilst I was dressing and applying my make-up and hair, which was a little un-settling, as I had imagined in my paranoia that there would be a mad rush to the john the second I got my pants off. I did have some trouble applying my makeup since my hands were trembling so much, but I persevered and eventually got it right. I closed my eyes and gave a quick prayer before opening up the door and stepping out. I glanced at myself in the big mirror above the hand basins. This was it. Gee I looked good! I tried to remember how to walk like a girl as I had practised in the flat, but I couldn't. Luckily there was no one about to notice. In fact the library was even quieter than normal. I stowed my bag in a locker, extracted my books, and entered the Library. Passing through the security screens I made a beeline for a single desk on the far side of the library. The front desk was un-occupied and it wasn't until I was seated and opening my books that I saw the Librarian. She looked at me and smiled before continuing with her work. I buried my head in my books and tried to control my breathing. I was dressed as a girl in public for the first time and so far, SO FAR!, I had gotten away with it. After about 30 minutes, the excitement and novelty started to wear off. There were only about a dozen people in the library, probably half male, half female. None of them seemed remotely interested in me. I did not stand out in the crowd. I was accepted as a girl! The sense of relief, joy, and well being that flooded through me was overwhelming. I felt so comfortable in my make up and clothes and my tits felt so good, so natural, like they were a part of me. I began to relax. I even felt comfortable enough to actually study and to move about the library a little. No-one approached me and accused me of being a drag queen or a fag or anything. I had imagined that they would, but I realised now that I really was a convincing girl. Little old me, the tiny, geeky, awkward runt of his year was actually good at something. I wouldn't get in the faculty year book for my efforts, but I had at last found something I could excel in. The time seemed to fly past and all too soon I heard the soft bell ringing indicating that it was closing time. I reluctantly gathered my books and headed out. The Librarian smiled and said goodnight and I responded with a smile of my own. I wasn't up to trying to talk like a girl yet, although I was pretty sure I could do that too. I noticed one of the young men at the loans desk check out my tits as I walked by, but he quickly averted his eyes when I casually glanced in his direction. I felt a shiver of excitement race down my spine as I left. Had he pegged me as a boy dressed as a girl, or did he think my tits looked good? As a male, I knew a sly perve when I saw one, and he was definitely getting an eyeful. Girls are meant to hate men who perve at them, but he made me feel good. I felt so confident now as a girl. Reluctantly I grabbed my bag from the locker and ducked into the male toilet. I headed to a cubicle and commenced my transformation back into a boy. I left the male toilets with my bag hung over my shoulder just as my mother pulled up outside the library. Everything had gone to plan. It was a perfect evening. I drifted off to sleep that night, happier and more contented than I had been for many years. **** Buoyed by the success of my 'debut' in the library, it became a regular Friday night thing. I gradually wore more adventurous and feminine clothes, but otherwise I operated in the same manner. The only difference from that first night was the addition of a second bag and my increased confidence. I decided to carry 2 bags (one inside the other) and to swap them around depending on my gender. The boy would enter the toilets with a blue bag, and the girl would leave the toilets with a pink bag. After about a month or so I even managed to talk to a few people. They suspected nothing. The head librarian was so serious and dedicated I doubt whether she observed the gender of any of the library users. Other people chatted to me occasionally. I never really had a conversation; it was more like requests to pass a book or to use the computer if I had finished with it. Standard library stuff. The young man who had checked me out first time was a regular. Eventually he approached me and we shared a pleasant, whispered conversation about compilers. He had seen the books on my desk. He was intelligent, sensitive, witty, and obviously convinced I was a girl. I knew he was attracted to me by the way he looked at me and stole glances at me when he thought I wasn't looking. I was so flattered by his attention and so excited to finally be able to talk to someone who wasn't being nasty to me. It wasn't a sexual attraction, but it did make me feel very good. I looked forward to seeing him each week from then on. He was a third year student. I actually knew his family, and had known of him for years, but as he was 3 years older than me, we had never actually met before. I had been doing the Friday night thing for about four months. Most weeks he would seek me out and we would talk, but there was no pressure and sometimes he would not be there, and occasionally I could not avoid my family or church group obligations. When we did get together we got on really well, sometimes incurring the wrath of the Head Librarian, for talking too much, although I detected a slight softening of her serious frown when she saw us together. But things were about to get really weird. One night at the end of the final year exams, we were chatting and we had agreed that we probably wouldn't come in to the library much for a while since the semester was over for a couple of months. Out of the blue he offered to drive me home. Again I was flattered, but where would he drop me? What if he tried something? Should I tell him what I really was? I hadn't planned for this contingency. I normally stayed back much later than he did, and it was no drama for me to slip away. Now he had a reason to stay back. I struggled for words. My mouth moved but nothing came out. "It's all right Andrew, I know" he whispered, looking me straight in the eye. I froze in horror, my heart pounded and I felt sick to the stomach. My Wonderful Secret Ch. 01 "H-h-h-h-how?" I managed to stammer eventually. "It was the bags that did it," he replied matter-of-factly, "I went to slip a note in your bag about 2 months ago and saw the blue bag inside your pink one." I stared at him dumbly. He continued in a casual whisper. "When I saw Andrea enter the toilets with her pink bag and Andrew leave with a blue bag, I thought nothing of it, so I waited for Andrea. When the library closed and Andrea hadn't reappeared, I knew something was up. So I checked the lockers for Andrea's bag and couldn't find it. That's when I figured it out. I slipped into the locker room last month and peeked inside your bag just to confirm it." "So why did you carry on with it?" I hissed, anger dragging me out of my state of shock. He grinned. "Don't you get it?" he said with a smirk, a hint of anger in his voice. "Get what?" I snapped, so loudly that the Head Librarian cleared her throat loudly to draw our attention and then scowled at us. He leaned closer to me, so close that I could feel his warm breath in my ear, and whispered gently to me. "I know you're a guy who dresses as a girl, but I can't help how I feel about you. I really like you. I have plans for you and I." I was sick with shock, and yet, a wave of relief washed through me. Finally my secret was out, finally someone else knew about me, and even though I had been found out, my life was not over, as I had always feared. I started to sob silently to myself. He got out his mobile phone and dialled a number. "Mrs Sampson." He said into the phone. I looked at him with cold, hatred. How could he ring my mother? But he put his finger to his lips and quietly "shooed" me, before continuing, "It's Mike Hanley here, I thought I might give Andrew a lift home, save you a trip." I couldn't hear what my mother said, but I could make out her pleasant "phone" voice. She sounded calm and agreeable. "Thought we might stop over at my place and show him what he can expect in third year compilers next year, since I'm doing Comp Sci as well", he continued. I heard my mothers voice get a little higher which it often did when she was pleased about something. "No trouble at all, I'll drop him home later on tonight, there's no hurry is there?" I had to hand it to him, he was playing my mother brilliantly. She was sensitive about my immaturity. The suggestion that she might want me home in a hurry was a sure fire way of ensuring that there was no curfew. Predictably I heard her cackle "No, no, no...". The rest of the sentence was inaudible. "Where is he?" Mike repeated her, with a momentary flash of panic in his eyes, before he casually replied "Oh he's just packing up his gear, he doesn't want to keep you waiting." I heard her voice rise again which signalled her delight. He had pushed all the right buttons. "No worries, Mrs Sampson, bye." He winked at me as he ended the call. "Shall we go?" he said sternly to me. He wasn't really asking. I gathered up my books and we left the library. I loaded up my bag and we headed out the main doors. My legs felt like jelly and my heart was still pounding. He put his arm around my waist and escorted me to his car. We did not talk as he drove to his house. My mouth was dry with fear and my stomach tight. The drive seemed to last forever. When we got to his place he escorted me to his downstairs living quarters, thankfully detached from his parents upstairs, and once inside he directed me to his comfortable lounge. He poured me a glass of wine and then disappeared out of the room. I found the wine unpleasantly sour but somehow soothing. When he returned he had changed out of his long trousers and jacket and was in a pair of shorts and a loose t-shirt. His breath told me he had just brushed his teeth. He sat down next to me and sipped his wine thoughtfully. "What are you going to do with me?" I asked meekly, dreading what his answer might be, but realising that the anxiety of not knowing was more than I could tolerate. "I'm not sure," He answered slowly, placing his glass down on the coffee table and turning to face me, before he continued. "I never cared much for the relationships I've had with girls before, but somehow I feel very different about you. I want to just go along with it, and see where it takes us. OK?" I nodded. I thought about what he had just said. It was almost a compliment, but it didn't tell me what I needed to know. "Will you tell anyone about me?" He grinned. "Now if I did that, I'd ruin my reputation as well as yours, wouldn't I? No, I'll be keeping quiet about this, and I'd expect you to do the same." I smiled at him, probably for the first time since he revealed he knew my secret. I was so relieved. I couldn't even begin to imaging what my parents would do if they found out. I stared into the depths of the honey coloured wine and began to relax "Hows the wine?", he inquired politely, breaking the silence. I went to answer him but his mouth covered mine and his body pressed against me such that I could not avoid his soft, hot and wet mouth and his delicately probing tongue. His right hand slid up and down my right thigh, his thumb very lightly brushed against my panties. I had always wondered what my first kiss would be like. I had never imagined I would be kissing a man, nor had I ever imagined I would be kissing a man dressed as a woman. I had absolutely no idea that it could be so exciting, so beautiful, and so overwhelming. End of Part 1 My Wonderful Secret Ch. 02 I felt like I was going to explode inside. Such was the anxiety, excitement, fear, horror, and arousal I was experiencing. I had no one to talk about it with. I had no one to tell that I had been caught dressed as a girl. I had no one to share the secret that Mark had taken me home and treated me like a real girl. Only I knew what that first kiss felt like. Why was I so repulsed by his strong lips and tongue and his prickly mouth and chin? Why was I so turned on I could hardly breathe? All I did know was that he had organised for me to go over the following Friday night. He told my mother it was a net gamers club, and that I would need to bring my PC, and that I would be staying late. She was so pleased that I finally had a social life; she insisted that I go along, even though I was having second thoughts. Bringing the PC was a clever ruse to hide the fact that I would need to take my girls clothes over to his house. It would be a little odd to take a bag along when visiting a mate's house, but if you were taking a computer, then you would expect a couple of boxes and a bag or two. Each Friday evening after that first night he would come around to my house to pick me up. He tried to avoid my mother but she was so excited about me having a real friend for a change that she used to hang around and wait for him. It was always almost unbearable for me as she tried to make small talk with him and find out what we were doing that evening. Usually Mark could fob her off with a technical description that I'm sure even he didn't understand. Eventually we would manage to get away, the box containing all my girl gear sitting safely on the back seat, its' contents cleverly hidden by my computer. Once at his flat I would slip into the bathroom and commence my transformation. When I emerged we would carry on much as we had in the library. We were pretty much, a couple of computer nerds who for some strange reason got on really well when I was dressed as a girl. For me, it was because as a female I could be myself. I didn't have to try to be like a 'normal' boy – something I didn't know how to do and subsequently did very badly. We would play computer games, discuss nerdy computer science or science fiction topics, watch movies, and generally just hang out. Toward the end of the evening, he would sit me on the lounge next to him and we would kiss. Each week he would get a little more adventurous, and I a little more comfortable with his gentle and nervous explorations, until he went a little too far and I would shudder and pull away. This was normally the signal that it was time for him to take me home. He was often a little cold to me when I re-emerged from his bathroom as a boy. He was never unkind, but I could sense his frustration with the whole situation. I feared that it would not be long before it all became too much for him, and my wonderful little adventure would come to a grinding halt. It was much to my surprise then when mid way through the following week I got a phone call from him. I was to go over to his house on Friday as normal, but he also told me he wanted to take me out to dinner and I was to wear something sexy. This alarmed and excited me all at once. I had longed to go out looking really good, instead of dressing like a serious girl student, but looking sexy would surely only encourage him to perhaps go further than I was willing to go. That's what scared me. I enjoyed kissing him, and looked forward to doing it again, after all, it gave me a hard on, but what if he wanted more? Then he really took the words out of my mouth. "It time you met my parents." --- Mark picked me up as arranged. He didn't talk much in the car. When we got there he ushered me into his flat and instructed me, "Get ready, I'll be upstairs for about 15 minutes" I set about getting my self to look like a girl. I was an expert at applying makeup by now. My cock and balls were snugly tugged away between my legs and held in place by my tight black panties. I had a very slinky black cocktail dress. I knew I looked good in it, but I was having some difficulty in getting the false breasts I had recently bought to sit right. They were the gel type, which came with their own special bra. But they would not behave. Eventually I discarded the bra, and just let the tightness of the dress hold my tits in place. It was risky, because I would look really stupid if they moved, but they looked so real without the bra, especially the little rubber nipples as they poked through the black fabric of the dress. I rolled a brand new pair of black thigh high stockings up my freshly waxed legs, and slipped on the black, shiny high heeled shoes I had had so much difficulty acquiring. I looked hot. A little on the slutty side, but that only added to my excitement. I nervously awaited Marks return, and stayed in the bathroom until I heard him come in. He called out to me, a little angrily, as no doubt he expected me to be ready by the time he got back. I said nothing, I just walked through the door and stood there, looking at him. He nearly fell over when he saw me. The look on his face will live in my memory forever. It's a look little girls dream about and older women try to remember. He tried to talk but was unable to get the words out. Our lips collided in an unbelievably powerful, smouldering kiss. Such was his passion that it was my turn to nearly faint. I found myself being supported completely by his arms. He kissed his way down to my neck and nuzzled me there, while his right hand played with my right breast through my dress. I could feel his erection pressing against my leg and hear his heart pounding in his chest. "Please?" I managed to whisper. He pulled away slowly, staring cautiously at me, unsure as to what I was pleading for. "If I am going to meet your parents I would rather get it over and done with. I have to fix myself up now." I scolded him, and turned to the bathroom. "I'm sorry!" He blurted out. "It's just that you look so damn hot! I want to kiss you some more." "Well, if all goes well with your parents, and you help me get through it, maybe I'll let you!" He smiled a wicked but happy smile. --- We made the short trip upstairs to meet his parents. His mother was washing dishes and without approaching me, called out cheerily, "Hello, Andrea isn't it? Don't you look lovely! Don't mind me, I'm just finishing off my chores." I smiled and nodded. Mark ushered me into the lounge room where his father was watching football on TV and drinking beer. "Dad?" Said Mark tentatively. Mark's father took a swig of beer and looked up at us. I froze in horror as his eyes widened and bulged when they fixed upon me. He coughed and sprayed beer all down his shirt. I thought he had recognised me. "Orrrr Dad!" Moaned Mark, turning red with embarrassment. "Hey, I'm sorry kids, you gave me a bit of a start there. Good Grief son! No wonder you've been so secretive about her. She's gorgeous. Miss Andrea, isn't it?" Mark's father stood up and leant forward and offered his giant hand for me to shake. I timidly offered my hand and his massive bear hand engulfed mine and held it tightly. "Pleased to meet you." I said, in my female voice. It sounded strange and awkward, but Mark caught my eye and nodded. Mark's mum joined us and offered us a drink. Mark declined for both of us. His mother sat down and looked relieved to have completed her housework. I got the impression that the men in this house didn't do much housework. "So what have you two got planned for tonight?" She asked excitedly. I felt myself turn red. "Some of the net gamers are coming over and we were going to battle." Mark answered, almost too quickly. We had to keep the computer gamers theme going in case our parents ever swapped notes. Mark's father rolled his eyes and shrugged, I'm sure he was thinking that he were in Marks shoes, he wouldn't be playing with a computer! He pretended to watch the football, but I could see him checking out my tits whenever he thought no-one was watching. It was strangely exciting. "Oh Mark, surely that's not much fun for Andrea! Why don't you take her somewhere nice?" Scolded his mum. Silence filled the room. I stole a glance at Mark, he looked back at me desperately. I noticed all eyes were on me. "It's OK, Mrs Stephens, really! I'm totally into computers, so I find it interesting. Mark's teaching me so much." I managed to say eventually, catching Mark's eye and raising my right eyebrow ever so slightly. He certainly was teaching me things, but so far, nothing to do with computers! His parents stole a glance at each other and smiled. His mother beamed back at me, his father continued to perve at my tits, although he did manage a nod in my direction, as if to say, "you're OK!" "And how did you meet?" Mark's mother enquired, breaking the silence, and smiling at the pair of us. Luckily Mark stepped in. "Andrea's doing Comp Sci like me, only she's in first year. We met at Uni." His mother smiled happily and nodded to her husband. "Mark, you hang on to this one." She added sternly, staring at Mark intently. "Well, we'd better get going." Mark said and walked over to me and guided me out of the lounge room. "It was nice to meet you!" I cried out as we past through the kitchen. I heard his parents return the compliment and his mother shout something about "seeing more of you." Next thing I knew we were outside in the cool night air and walking down the stairs to Marks flat. The second we got inside we burst out laughing. It was such a relief and things had gone so well. Mark reminded me of how his father had sprayed beer all over himself when he saw me. We broke up laughing again. I had to race to the bathroom in fear of wetting myself. When I emerged from the bathroom Mark had poured us both a glass of wine and was relaxing on the lounge. I joined him and we clinked glasses in celebration of our successful ruse, and laughed again. It had been so exciting and I was really turned on. The wine was just what I needed to loosen me up. Almost before I knew it, we started to kiss. It was soft and warm and wet and gentle. I found myself really enjoying it. I let his hand wander up my leg and under my dress. He was so calm and slow in his movements and even though I felt very nervous, it was obvious that he knew what he was doing, and so I let him. I decided that the time was right to trust him and let him take charge. As he started to kiss me with his tongue his fingers lightly stroked my panties and I could feel my own arousal build. Before too long he had slipped his fingers under my panties and freed my tiny but stiff cock. Then he commenced to ever so delicately stroke it. He continued to tongue kiss and touch me down there. I could feel a deep, urgent yearning, a horrible tension, like the walls of a dam bulging with flood waters. He had lit my fuse, and I could hear the terrifying hissing as the flame crept closer to the charge. Then I felt it happening. Like a freight train thundering towards me, it is on me before I knew it. I shuddered and cried out like a girl as the most intense climax I had ever experienced rocked my body and mind. I'm sure that I felt the earth move, and I certainly felt a hot sticky mass spread though my panties. Eventually I composed myself. I had tears in my eyes and I buried them in his shoulder. He dried my eyes with a tissue and kissed me very tenderly. Then he whispered, "That's just the tip of the ice burg, baby" I smiled at him. It was a blushing, tearful, but grateful smile. He was so gentle, so sweet. I felt so much for him. I frightened myself as I tried to reconcile my emotions. I would have done anything he wanted. ANYTHING! But I didn't want for him to ask. I wanted to give. I got up and poured myself some wine. He leant back on the sofa. I came over and sat on the floor in front of him, between his legs. I looked at the bulge in his pants. I went to touch it. As I did he undid his buttons and fly and out it popped. I was much bigger and fatter than mine, but then again, all cocks I had seen so far were bigger than mine. I touched it. It felt just like mine, only fatter. I stroked it, like I did to mine, he started to freak out. His head shook from side to side. I stopped. He calmed down. Then I reached forward, licked my lips and stuck my tongue out. I looked up at him. He was so excited "Oh God, have I died and gone to heaven?" He hissed between clenched teeth. I smiled. I so wanted to make him happy, to give him back what he had so lovingly given me. I licked the shaft of his cock. Starting at the balls and slowly running up to the head. I had never even thought about sucking a cock before, but it just seemed so natural, so easy. When I reached the rim of his helmut he cried out, and I pulled away to observe him. Was I doing it right? Was he enjoying it? His eyes were clenched shut and his breathing was shallow and tight. I waited for him to relax. When his eyes slowly opened he looked down at me. "Oh yes, that's so fucking good!" He hissed. I smiled up at him and repeated the slow tongue run from his balls up to the head of his cock. He repeated his previous statement. It was just the encouragement I needed. I was happy to lick him like this all night long! I continued to lick him this way. The over powering urge I had to please him surprised me, but I could not fight it. I sensed him needing more stimulation so I gently grasped his shaft and let my lips engulf his straining purple helmet. I bobbed my head up and down very slowly, allowing my lips to slide back and forth over the ridge where his cock head joined the shaft. "OH GOD!" He winced and pushed his groin toward my face. I was so pleased to be able to pleasure him this way. Suddenly he screamed as if in intense pain and bucked wildly, causing me to pull away. I feared at first that I had hurt him but I watched in amazement as a huge stream of cum shot into the air. I had never seen an orgasm like that. Had I not backed away when I did I suspect I would have had my teeth knocked out by his groin as it thrust up to the heavens. He lay there panting, eyes glazed over and semi closed, a pool of cum filled his navel and spilled down onto his matted pubic nest. It was like he was drunk. I went to the bathroom and tidied myself up. I re-applied my lipstick and straightened my hair and dress. When I came back he was still there. I mopped up his cum with a hand towel, and poured him a glass of wine. I sat next to him and placed the glass to his lips. He took a sip. He turned to me. The colour returned to his face and a smile beamed across it. "Gosh that was great" We melted into a kiss and remained in each others arms for at least an hour. We did eventually go out for dinner, but the whole affair was just a blur to me. I remember the atmosphere in the restaurant was very warm and cosy. I remember the food being very good, and the wine blood red and seductive. I remember the looks I got from the male patrons there. But mostly I remember the warm glow that emanated from my body, and the adoration I felt for Mark. I don't remember the drive home or whether we did anything, although I suspect I would have remembered that. I do remember waking up the next morning in my flat and wondering how I deserved to be feeling this happy. My Wonderful Secret Ch. 03 Things were going pretty well with Mark and I, and with my life in general. I loved the freedom of university. I had a boyfriend whom I loved and who loved me, and he was also my best friend. We got on really well and shared so many interests. If we weren't 'together' we might still have been good friends. I was growing in confidence every day and was finally learning to accept who I was and to even like myself. My older siblings had gotten jobs and moved out of home. My younger siblings took advantage of the newly available bedrooms in our house, and got on with their own lives and senior school. Home life was calm and happy, and I was pretty much left to my own devices. My mother had taken a sudden interest in my diet and I was awoken to orange juice and fresh fruit every morning, but that was just normal craziness for my mother. She still cared for me. I couldn't remember a time when I had been as happy. These may have been the happiest days of my life. Each Friday afternoon when I finished uni at about 2pm, I would head to Mark's and change into Andrea. He would get home about 5pm and our weekend would begin. We would immediately start to cuddle and kiss, share a bottle of wine, and just unwind. Slowly he would start to run his hands all over me and stroke me through my panties; the sexual tension between us would build to a point where we were both breathing heavily and his hard cock would press against my body. Without words we knew what to do next and that normally meant Mark sitting back on the lounge and me kneeling between his legs and releasing his cock from his trousers. I would stroke it and lick it and tease and taunt him, before eventually allowing it to slide into my mouth. In the early days I was clumsy and nervous and embarrassed, but now I loved sucking him and loved taking my time with him. I would stop and talk to him, make him laugh, suck his balls, kiss his inner thighs. I had learned to talk dirty to him and him to me. I could make sucking him last up to half an hour and by the time I let him cum he exploded and screamed like a man possessed. This is what we called love making. I liked it when Mark stroked me through my panties, but I didn't want him touching inside my panties or even removing them. I was ashamed of my penis and preferred not to see it, especially when we were together. My penis was very small and my balls seemed to be getting smaller, and that suited me fine. I had no desire to be a man like him, and although I envied the simplicity of his life in comparison to mine, I knew I wasn't a normal boy and that I never would be. He told me I rocked his world and that he couldn't wait for Friday to come around. I told him that it was my love for him that made me learn to suck him so well. My love would make sure that each time I sucked him it would get better. He would kiss me deeply and wrap his big arms around me and hold me tight. I felt so loved. When he had composed himself we would normally order in and start playing on our computers. We would battle other geeks in a MUD from the university, stopping occasionally to kiss and cuddle and maybe for me to suck him again, before packing it in at about 2am, and falling to sleep in each other's arms. Saturday was sleep in morning, interrupted by love making. Saturday afternoon was study time at the uni. We normally studied separately so that we weren't distracted. Saturday night we went out somewhere to eat and have a few drinks, before back to his for more computer games and love making. Sunday was another sleep in, followed by the cross town markets, where we would eat Asian food and watch the street performers do their stuff, then back to his place again for more kissing and fun. By 9pm I was all dressed up as a boy and Mark, would run me home in his car under the cover of darkness. Sometimes we kissed good bye but I was still so frightened of my mother that I usually opted to just squeeze his hand and say my goodbyes. Usually I could sneak into my flat without any attention from my mother. As I pulled the sheets over me I would breathe a deep sigh of relief. My life was great, but it was still a long way from being perfect. I was still pretending to be a boy to the world, when I knew I was really a girl and that I needed to live my life as one. Another small issue I faced was that Mark desperately wanted to have intercourse with me. I had asked him about it after we went to a party where couples were screwing each other all over the place. He told me that he desperately wanted to do it with me. I didn't really need to ask him, as I could feel his body twitch and his hips subtlety thrust against me, every time we were entwined, and I observed how awkward he became whenever we saw a sex scene in a movie. Mark wanted it bad, but he was a gentleman and said he would never ask me or pressure me. If we were going to do it, I would have to ask him. When the time was right, I would know and I would ask him and that would be that. And there was the problem! I didn't really want to do it. I had tried shoving various things up my ass but just found it a lot of work for very little reward. In short it was boring and it did nothing for me. Of course I wanted to do it with Mark and I wanted to do it for him. I wanted him to be able to fuck his girlfriend like a normal guy would. I wanted to make him happy and to that end I persevered. Trouble was, I didn't know where to start. I am a small person and my ass is very small and tight. There was no internet to download from; there was no friendly neighbourhood doctor I could talk to. I experimented with knives and forks (the handles of course!), candles, torches, anything that was roughly the right size and shape. None of them did it for me. Eventually I resorted to trawling through the library in particular the sociology section which had a lot of books on human sexuality, but there was very little useful information for me in there. Physiology promised a lot but delivered very little, other than fascinating diagrams of men's and women's genitals. Finally I stumbled upon a book called "Variations in Human Sexuality" which as the name suggests, was quite an old book but it did offer this advice to what it termed "the receiver" in "male-male intercourse." "Anal intercourse is an unnatural act but if the receiver is determined to defile himself then he must train his anal muscles through a gradual stretching process. This should commence with lots of water based lubricant as oil based lubricants may cause irritation in the lower bowel. Starting with small, smooth, unbreakable cylindrical objects, the receiver needs to gradually increase the size of the object until he can accommodate the approximate size of the erect penis of the inserter." I was grateful for the small snippet of ultimately very logical information, and ignoring the author's prejudice, I set about finding an appropriate source of small, smooth, unbreakable cylindrical objects. This was not as easy as it seems. Then I discovered carrots! Carrots were 25 cents a bag and came in a variety of sizes. They were healthy and mother had no problem buying them for me. After trying them 'au natural', I learnt that they were easy to cut and shape with a small paring knife. I actually became very skilled in turning the common carrot into a beautiful miniature penis. A quick rub with an abrasive kitchen cloth would render them smooth, and after soaking them in warm water until they reached 'cock temperature', they were the perfect DIY training cock. I didn't enjoy pushing them inside me, but I did gain a certain amount of pride and confidence as I became able to accept bigger and bigger carrot cocks. Eventually I worked my way up to Marks cock size. The carrot took a good hour to craft into Mark's shape and size, but when I finished shaving and scraping and gave it a good smoothing then a dunk in the hot water, I was as horny as I'd ever been, and eagerly engulfed the carrot, wishing that Mark was with me and that I had his cock in my mouth. The Mark replica carrot cock took some working into me, but I got there. It did not feel great, but it did not feel bad either. Regardless, this was all about giving Mark what he wanted, not about my pleasure and if I could take the replica carrot, I could let Mark enter me and make him happy. I hoped that in time I would learn to enjoy intercourse, but to begin with, I just wanted to look after my man. Who can blame a girl for that? Besides, Mark's birthday was coming up and I had a plan to make it one he would never forget. We met as usual on the Friday afternoon. I had gone to a lot of effort to squeeze into my latest LBD. Beneath it I wore a tiny black g-string and black thigh high stockings and I had put out all stops with my makeup. My long girly eye lashes were darkened and thickened, lots of foundation and subtle blush to highlight my high cheek bones, and for the first time ever, cherry red lipstick. I'd been practising almost daily with my makeup, and I now felt very confident with it. Mark's jaw dropped to the ground when he first came home and saw me standing in the door way to his bedroom. He jumped me, picking me up like a rag doll and engulfing my lips, invading my mouth with his tongue, whilst his hands squeezed and clawed at my thighs and ass. "You look so fucking hot!" he hissed as he came up for air, before resuming his passionate assault on my lips. "Sit down, honey, I have a present for you." I said in my softest, sexiest voice when I managed to break his hold. I directed him to the lounge. Instantly he dropped his trousers and revealed his massive erection and sat on the lounge with a crazed, horny twinkle in his eyes. I went and got the carefully wrapped gift, then knelt between his legs. "Oh honey, look how big and hard you are! I think that cock is much too big to go in my mouth, don't you?" "You know it isn't! Come on baby, give me my birthday treat. Don't tease me." There was a hint of desperation in his voice, but I was enjoying teasing him. "Oh my! If sucking your big cock is a birthday treat, then you only get to cum once a year. Is that what you want, honey?" "Please baby, please suck my cock, don't tease me anymore, I'm so hard I feel like it might burst." "Mmmmm. Well I wouldn't want that. Maybe I could give it a little lick, just to test how much pressure has built up?" I ran the very tip of my tongue up his shaft and then slowly back down. I stopped, licked my lips as if I was tasting them. "Oh honey, it is very tight. You might be right. What should I do to stop it from bursting?" I was looking up at him, with my finger in my mouth, doing my best bimbo impression. He was squirming with desire and pent up sexual energy. I had never teased him like this, but I had to admit, I was enjoying myself. "Please baby, suck on my cock like a good girl. You know you like it. And it will make me so happy. Please?" "I tell you what, you open your present and then I will do whatever you want. Is that a good deal, honey?" He couldn't make words so he nodded frantically and sat forward to receive his gift. With trembling hands he tore of the wrapping paper to reveal the beautiful wooden box. Inside it was an authentic, early wooden, handmade slide rule. Mark like me was a geek, and he loved anything mathematical. I saw a tear well up in his eye, as he just stared at the exquisite detail and craftsmanship of both the slide rule and the box. "It's awesome" he said in a soft voice. His erection had completely subsided, which disturbed me somewhat, given what I had planned for him, but I was moved by his obvious appreciation of my gift. He continued to stare at it. "Why don't you take it out and look at it?" I suggested. He tilted the box slightly and gently lifted the ancient device out from the box. That was when the condoms I had placed underneath the rule fell out landed with a crinkly splat on the floor. He looked at the condoms and then looked up at me. Our eyes met and locked onto each other's. "Mark, I want you inside me. Right here, right now." I stood up, took his hand and led him to the bedroom. I tore off my dress and lay on the bed, naked but for my g-string and thigh highs. Nervously he removed his clothes and lay on top of me. He kissed my eyes and nose and lips and worked his way over my neck down to my nipples. "I can't believe how red and plump your nipples are!" He said between licks and sucks of my tender protrusions. His sucking only served to make them redder and puffier and so sensitive that I had to ask him to stop. "It must be that new dress," I offered as an explanation, as I guided his face up back up to mine and our lips locked together, allowing me to slide out from under him. I turned so that my naked ass was pressing against his slowly stiffening cock. It turned me on to feel the heat and rigidity of his member grow against me. Slowly he began to kiss the back of my neck and I moaned a soft moan of deep relaxation and contentment. Gently together we were starting the next great adventure of our relationship, and only our love for each other prevented us from exploding with nervous tension. When I felt he was really hard I rolled onto my back, and, passing him a tube of lubricant, I whispered "Get me ready." I slipped off my g-string and guided his nervous hand between my legs, lightly brushing my stiff little clitty (as I preferred to think of it), and gently pressed one of his slippery fingers against my virgin hole. "Make little circles, honey, get my pussy nice and wet and ready for your cock." I couldn't believe what a slut I sounded like, but I knew I needed to teach Mark how to get me ready. He pushed in, too hard, too quick. "Gently honey, gently!" I cried out softly. I realised that I needed to let him know what felt good for me, and that I needed to encourage him when he got it right, rather than tell him off when he got it wrong. I used my sexiest, sluttiest voice. "Get me ready nice and gentle, you've got all night to fuck me, so just take it easy. That's it, oh yeah! That's how I like it, oh yeah, you're fingering my pussy so nicely now." He resumed his deep tongue kissing and I kissed him passionately in return. Slowly my hips started to grind against him, pushing more of his finger inside me, and turning me on more and more. I can't explain the feeling of his long finger pushing inside me. It was horrible and yet wonderful, exciting yet frightening, and sickening yet delightful all at the same time. This insane conflict between mind, body and instinct made me feel more alive and aware of my body than ever before. "Put more lube on your finger baby, I want you deeper inside me." I didn't have to spell it out to him. After fumbling with the now slippery tube I felt his finger slowly work its way deeper inside me. "Oh yeah, honey, that feels so good having you deep inside me like that. Keep moving it in and out, get me nice and stretched for your cock. Oh yeah that feels so good." He resumed kissing my lips then moved to my ears, eyelids, neck, nose, eyebrows. "Oh yes, oh yes! Use two fingers! Get me ready for your big cock." I urged as his finger now moved inside me so easily and his tongue and lips worshipped every inch of my face. I went insane when I felt a second finger invade me. I was so into this weird feeling of losing control of myself. It was un-natural but I liked it. "I need you inside me now" I whispered. He broke his kiss and slid out of bed. Recovering one of the condoms and desperately trying to open the wrapper. Finally he got it open and I felt a spasm of anticipation as he rolled it down his shaft. I passed him the lube. "Get that cock nice and slippery honey, I want you to slide inside me." I wasn't taking any chances, I really wanted that cock well lubed up. Meanwhile I moved my ass to the edge of the bed, placed a pillow under my lower back, and spread my legs so that I could watch my man approach and mount me. "Come on baby, nice and slow to start with, push inside me now please." I felt the slippery head of his cock press against my tiny opening. It was like the world stopped spinning and time was fixed in slow motion, except for our heartbeats which were pounding like jungle drums. He gently pushed forward and the head slipped in so easily, but then I felt an involuntarily clench which really hurt and I yelped in pain. He quickly pulled out and stepped back. "I'm so sorry, baby, come on, let's stop this now." "No no no, Mark, it's ok. I need you to be a man for me and push inside me. It will hurt me a little bit but that is normal. I need you to hurt me, I want you to take me, and I want you to watch my face as you take my virginity." I could hardly believe I just said that but it came out. It was the truth. I wanted this so much I was prepared for some pain. I needed Mark to man up and fuck me and get it over with. He moved between my legs and leant down and kissed my lips. "If you are sure, baby?" he whispered. "I've never been so sure about anything!" I whispered back. He stood up and put his cock against my hole and pressed forward. It slid in, slowly but easily, I could feel my body stretching around him as each millimetre advanced. Again there was an involuntary clenching muscle spasm and the pain was over-whelming. I couldn't help but let a painful moan escape my parched lips. "I'm sorry, baby. Let's face it, it's not going to work." Mark muttered frustratedly, roughly pulling out of me and stepping back. His face was red and tears were in his eyes. This was not how it was meant to be and I knew he was not enjoying it as he was meant to. But I was not going to be defeated. "Dammit Mark! I want this this! We were nearly there! I want you deep inside me. I want you to fuck me hard and fuck me deep. I want you to take my virginity. I want you to accept my gift to you. I want this and I need this. I need you to grow some balls, man the fuck up, and hurt me. And if you're not up to the job, I'll put my little black dress back on, and go down on the highway and pick myself up a real man and let him take me." I had barely got those words out when Mark marched up to me, spread my legs wide, positioned his cock at my opening, and slid himself inside me. He was gentle and slow yet forceful and determined. I screamed in pain and shook my head violently in protest as another muscle spasm clamped down upon his cock and tried to repel the stiff invader. But this time it was too late. He was buried to the absolute hilt inside me. My virginity was gone along with my innocence and any remnant of masculinity. A tear of pain, sadness, joy, shame, fear, horror and elation all rolled into one formed in my eye. I had surrendered to my failings as a male and my love for him. The pain was intense but I knew deep down that I had no one to blame but myself. This is what I wanted. I looked up at him. His eyes were burning into mine, his expression a combination of anger, fear, aggression and triumph. "This is what you wanted? Well now you've got it," he hissed, "and now I'm going to fuck you!" The pain did eventually go away, but it was not replaced by sexual pleasure as I had hoped but I wasn't disappointed. I found myself enjoying feeling my man slide his cock in and out of me, and I enjoyed watching him fuck me. It was at best, physical pleasure much like a good hard massage, not sexual pleasure. I was just happy that I could give this gift to my man. I reached up and wrapped my arms around his chest, pulling him on top of me. He smothered me with kisses while maintaining a steady rhythm. "Does that feel good, honey?" I asked breathlessly. "Oh yeah, it's amazing" he grunted, his aggression easily checked by the pleasure he was receiving, "Is it good for you too?" My Wonderful Secret Ch. 03 "Uh huh, honey, it's even better than I imagined. I love having you inside me." I lied. "Oh fuck, baby, I'm going to cum. Look out, I'm about to explode. I love you so much." "It's ok, honey, you cum for me. I want to feel you cum deep inside me, come on, fuck me harder, fuck me harder!" He increased his tempo and before too long I felt his whole body go rigid, whilst his cock seemed to double inside me, and he started to shudder, driving his hips and forcing himself deeper inside me than ever before. I felt a strange stirring deep inside me as his orgasm peaked. A distant, unfamiliar and fleeting sensation passed through me. He let out a joyous cry before his body went limp with orgasmic release and he crumpled on top of me. I lay pinned beneath his sweaty body as he slept. I felt very good, not quite at one with myself and my sexuality, but very contented with the evening so far. I could have intercourse with my man and satisfy him completely. Whilst I didn't love it, I had enjoyed the experience overall and that meant I would let him do it to me again. To be continued... My Wonderful Secret Ch. 04 Later on, that same night... I managed to roll him off me and slip into the bathroom. There I checked out my now de-virginised hole in the mirror. Far from the gaping wreck I had feared, it looked perfectly normal if a little moist. It felt good too. I did a little happy dance. I was a fully functioning sexual adult. I could have sex with my man and satisfy him. Life was good! I returned to the bed. He was lying on his side and I slipped into his arms, my back against his chest, my ass nestled against his flaccid cock. I dozed momentarily until I felt him stir. "You want to do it again?" He whispered in my ear. I could feel his hard cock pressing against my ass. I was shocked that he wanted to do it again so soon, but he was after all a fit young man who had been denied for so long. I guess I should have expected this and given that I had told him that I loved it, and I resigned myself to the fact that it was going to be a long night! "Sure honey." I replied softly. "You want to do it like this?" I didn't hear him answer but a slippery finger probing my hole and the crackle of the condom wrapper being torn open with his teeth told me what I needed to hear. After some adjustment of position I felt his tip slip inside me. I raised my knees to my chest and noticed how much easier his entry was this time. Before I knew it his soft public hair was caressing my ass and he was deep inside me. "Slowly, honey, do me slowly." I whispered to him as he tongued my ear. "Don't worry baby, I'll take my time and savour every moment!" With that remark he slowly started to push in and out of me. I felt that pain again but it was a good, sexy pain. I liked having my man inside me, loving me, desiring me, needing me and this feeling let me know all those things were going on. I managed to move myself a bit as he moved inside me. I liked the feeling and so did he judging by his response. I figured it might take me some time but I could hopefully one day enjoy intercourse as much as he did. As his climax approached I could feel a strange sensation in my clitty, like I was urinating after holding off for a long time, but of course I wasn't. Somehow the feeling came from the inside and although it was weird, it was not unpleasant. When he came this time I pushed back hard against him causing him to cry out in the throes of passion and shudder as if an electric shock had passed through his body, which told me he had just gotten his rocks off big time, and that made me feel very happy. That strange but pleasant tingling feeling returned. "Uuuuurgh! Unbelievable!" He said breathlessly as his body relaxed and he crumpled up beside me. I could feel his hot breath on my neck as he slept. We fell into a deep loving sleep together. I awoke some hours with an erection. I didn't have many these days and I was very surprised to see my little clitty standing up so straight and hard. That weird tingling, urinating sensation was inside me again and all I knew was I needed him inside me again. He was stirring and had rolled onto his back. This gave me an opportunity to remove the spent condom, but not before checking out the massive load he had dumped in it. I couldn't help but notice his cock start to stir and so I sucked it to see if it would stiffen up for me. It did, and before too long it was rock hard. I rolled a condom down the shaft, something I realised was great fun to do, and smothered it with lube, then I worked some into my fresh fucked hole. Satisfied that it was good and juicy, I straddled Mark, facing his head, and lowered myself onto his cock. By the time he fully woke up I was sitting on his groin, and his cock was buried deep inside me. If it felt weird before, it felt completely insane now. Maybe it was the depth, maybe it was the angle, either way, that tingly sensation inside me was back and stronger than ever. I'd never felt so horny! I stared to jig up and down. "You were asleep honey, so I thought I'd help myself. Is this ok?" I said, smiling wickedly at him, before increasing my movements until I was practically bouncing up and down on him. "OH MY GOD THIS IS FANTASTIC!" he cried, grabbing my hips and pulling me down onto his cock. My ass started to slap against his thighs and we could both feel his climax building. This time that feeling inside me built and built and I could feel us building together. That, ladies and gentlemen, is the most wonderful feeling two people can ever share. I went insane and started slamming myself up and down on him until for the third time that night he screamed and, went rigid and did his electrocuted man act, shuddering to his third orgasm, and as I was deeply impaled upon his cock, I was shaken like a tambourine and his meat drove even deeper inside me than I believed possible. I felt my little clitty explode and squirt its tiny reservoir of milk and although that felt good it was nothing compared to the tingly feeling deep inside me which had built to a maddening height before crashing down violently around me. I screamed as fizzy wave after fizzy wave of intense pleasure tore through my entire body. My eyes rolled back in their sockets, my head slumped backwards and all I remember is his strong arms catching me before I passed out. When I awoke I was wrapped in his arms. He was awake and was staring at me. I felt so beautiful. Not a word was spoken. There was nothing to be said. I snuggled into him and he kissed and caressed me until I fell back to asleep. I slipped out of bed as the first sunlight of the brand new day hit the window. I wanted to dance with happiness but I was sore in new and unusual ways. Instead I decided to make some coffee, and shower. Once I'd showered, and given myself a full physical, I dried off and began putting on my makeup. I stared at myself in the mirror. I was beautiful, I was sexual and I was me. My brain hadn't fully processed what had happened overnight, but I had a new sense of confidence and identity. I was content. I was happy. I was horny. After much dithering I settled for a small pair of pink cotton bikini panties. They were very comfortable, looked damn hot on, and were easy to remove. I was so looking forward to Mark waking up so that we could do it again. I didn't have to wait long. I went to the kitchenette and retrieved my coffee and one for him. I took a long sip as I sat on the chair and noticed him slowly waking up. I reached over the back of the chair to put my cup on the table when I heard his voice. "God your little butt looks hot in those panties!" I turned to see him sitting on the edge of the bed, his feet on the floor, and a wicked grin on his face as his cock bobbed back to life. I turned my back completely to him and wiggled my ass at him. "Oh no, I hope I'm not making you horny! Whatever could you do about that?" I realised I loved playing the naughty, sexy innocent! He nonchalantly stood up, pulled a condom on, squirted some lube into his palm and worked it all over his sheathed weapon. Then he walked over to me, tore my panties off in one smooth motion, dried his hands on them before throwing them away, and then grabbed me firmly by the hips. "I suppose I'll have to teach my naughty girl a hard lesson, won't I?" "Oh please no! Whatever do you mean?" "I won't explain, this is more of a demonstration. Just relax and learn." With that he positioned the tip of his slippery cock against my opening and pulled me back onto him. It slid in so easily this time but it still caused me to moan. "Hope it doesn't hurt too much." He hissed, as the pleasure of having his cock buried deep inside me made talking difficult. He emphasised the word "too", implying that I was a naughty girl and there was meant to be some pain. I played along with him. I was totally loving it. "I have been naughty master, please take your pleasure. Please forgive me. I only ever want to please you." With that he commenced a steady rhythm, driving in and out of me with great power but slow speed. Each thrust inwards caused him to groan with delight. "Ahhh fuck that feels good!" "Am I pleasing you Master? Is fucking me making you happy Master?" "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!" He almost spat the words out such was the effort he was making. With all the nerves and fears being dealt with over night, he was free to fuck me with abandon, and I was able to take him without fear. He fucked me good and hard for what must have been twenty minutes or more. I could feel my tingly wave building and the steady crescendo of the "slap, slap, slap" as our two sweaty bodies came together. "Please cum in me Master, that's how I know I am being a good girl!" I didn't know where this submissive slut talk came from, but it came out of me naturally and it had a profound effect on him. He started rocking me violently with each thrust until he screamed an obscenity and shuddered to another orgasm. His shudders tipped me over the edge and those magnificent fizzy waves flooded my body and short-circuited my brain. As he pulled out of me just before I collapsed, he lifted me like a rag doll and carried me back to the bed. He smothered me with a deep tongue kiss as he lay down on top off me. Crushing me beneath him he whispered something about 'never letting me go' before I passed out. === It must have been about lunch time. With the light behind them, we could not make out who was standing at the foot of the bed. They were animated. Then I heard the voice. Mother. "Don't be alarmed. I'm here to save you both. Sodomy! It's a sin! You'll both burn in hell for this, but I have found a way to save you." "Mother, what are you doing in here? How long have you been there? How long have you ... known?" Mother waved away my questions. "Homosexuality is an obscenity! But since you are becoming a woman, the church is willing to make a few allowances." "What?" Mark and I groaned together. "Your changing into a female - I've been putting hormones in your orange juice for months - why else would you be developing breasts and have shrinking testes? If Andrea becomes a real woman, then your love is not a sin. Don't you understand?" "Yes, but..." Mark struggled to make sense of the bizarre situation we found ourselves in. My face burnt red with shame and I could not even think, let alone talk to her. "After last night you leave me no option but to stage an intervention. I can't knowingly allow my son to be buggered by another man. Homosexuality is an obscenity! Sodomy is the Devils work! I must make a stand for old fashioned Christian family values. Mark, I think you have some explaining to do to your parents. I've told them everything. They are waiting for you upstairs. Young lady, you'd better get cleaned up and then put these on. You're heading to a church retreat in the country." She pointed to a pair of black canvas shoes, white ankle socks, an ankle length black and white check skirt, a plain white blouse and a knitted black sweater. "You need to remove that slutty makeup but you can keep your hair." I tied to argue but I couldn't make words. Such was the shock that it was like my heart and brain had been cut out. I just did as she said. I showered and cleaned myself up then got dry. I put on her clothes. I looked like a schoolgirl from the 1950's. Mark dressed silently and walked zombie like out of the room. Mother ushered me across the driveway and into a strange car. She hurriedly started the engine and whisked me away. Tears welled in my eyes as I thought of what had just happened. I suddenly thought of Mark and how much I loved him. I wept at the thought of not seeing him again. He never even said goodbye...