Cyber Chick free porn video

Cyber Chick Penned by: Miss Deborah Leigh Johnson One When I was fifteen years old, I was delighted to receive a computer for Christmas. We were not a well off family, so when I opened the boxes and saw what my parents had gotten me, I appreciated the great sacrifice that it had taken for them to be able to put enough away to get me this kind of present. They had always let me know that they thought that I was the brightest kid in the family, the last in the line of five kids. I had two older brothers, and two sisters who were also older than I was. My next in age was Mary, and she was one year older than I was. Both my sisters are great looking girls, and are very popular with the guys in school. Janet is in her last year. Both of my brothers are out on their own now, and the oldest one is seriously considering getting married next summer. So, as Janet has a well developed social life, she is only home, it seems, to sleep and change her clothes. We have sort of gotten used to not seeing her around very much. My parents also have a pretty active social life, so in actual fact, I am left alone most of the time. I see Mary once in a while, but we kids are old enough now that our parents leave us alone a lot. So, the computer was a god send, as far as I was concerned. I spent a lot of my spare time studying, because after raising four kids before me, my parents do not have the money to send me through college, so I will need to count on a scholarship, which I am pretty sure that I can get, because my grades are very good. I am totally unlike my brothers though. They are stereo typical jock types, I am sure that you know what I mean. I am not. Though I am over fifteen, going on sixteen, I still have not started to even shave yet. I am only 5' 3 3/4" tall, and I weight 123 lbs. Added to that, like all the other guys in my classes at school, I wear my hair long. The problem is that if I want to wear it long, my mom makes me wash and condition it every day, so with my soft skin, large blue eyes and beautiful hair, I look more like a girl than a guy. I have often had guys driving by me on the street, no knowing who I was, honking at me and trying to get me to go for a ride with them. I guess that even in my scruffy school clothes, I look more like a girl than like a guy, even though I do try hard to act like a guy. I have always thought that I was acting, when I tried to act like a guy, but I would carefully watch all the other guys my age, and I would try hard to act like that. Because I was so small, the last thing in the world that I needed was to have to fight all the time, because of being accused of being a fairy. So, I got along all right with everyone, because I had learned how to act like a guy. I did not think that I feel like a regular guy, to be entirely honest. By that, I mean that I do not identify with the kinds of things that other guys seem to identify with. I am not a guy that goes crazy every time I get challenged. I also do not like the feel of physical strain, like most guys seem to like doing. I see the other guys go wrangy over a good looking chick on the street, and I wonder what it is that makes them feel that way. I can talk like they do, and I can act like they do, but I really do not know what it is in their nature that drives them to act like that. So, I usually enjoy spending a lot of time all alone, with my books, my hobbies and my own thoughts. the result is that I get really good grades, so I am pretty sure that I am going to be offered scholarships so that I can go on to college. I do not know what it is that I would like to study. I just know that I do not want to have to work at physical work, the way my father and my brothers have to do. I will never understand it, but they seem to really like it though. I would never like it. When I am all alone, I am willing to admit to myself that I am probably enough of a sissy that I would never be able to accept that kind of life style. I will need to find something where I can sit behind a desk all day, to earn a living, like a legal secretary or something. Maybe I could study business, and get paid for doing that kind of work? So, it was with the bliss and ignorance of youth that I spend quite a few weeks setting up my computer, and starting to learn how to use it. This is not a light task. There is a word processor program, a spread sheet program, a data base program, a presentation program, a graphical program that works with a scanner, not to mention a myriad of games. And after I had gotten some kind of grasp on how to get around in those programs, I turned my attention to another program that came with the computer. I was able to blissfully occupy many many hours for a number of long weeks. I learned that there was also a one year subscription to an internet service. Once I had gotten used to moving around in all of the other programs, I turned my attentions to exploring the internet. Two I was fascinated as I learned my way around the local server, and then learned about search engines to find out the kinds of things that were not available through my school library. This was a whole new world for me, and I was avid to learn all that I could. After a few weeks, I stumbled across a chat room. This was a study in foolishness, I thought. It seemed that adults would spend hours just making really stupid comments to each other. I was amazed. I monitored the chat rooms, just to see what was happening. One night, I got a private message from someone called Bruce. "Hi there. Want to talk a bit, in private?" That was how it started. We became friends. Bruce was a 28 year old man, a professional engineer by training. He seemed to really listen to the ideas that I had, and he began to gradually teach me, not to think like he thought, but how to analyse what I thought, to see if I really did think those things. After we had chatted with each other for a few weeks, he asked me if I could send him a picture of myself. I quickly learned how to use the scanner, and I sent a colour picture of myself. I hoped that he would not think that I was a ginky kid when he saw it. I got one back from him. He was tall, tall compared to me that is, about 5' 9" and weighed about 180 lbs. He was not fat, but he was not skinny either. He actually cut a nice looking figure. He had blond shoulder length hair, and a bushy blond moustache. I liked the way that he looked. Then he really floored me. "You look like a girl." "Yeah, I know. I get teased about it a lot." "If you were really a girl, you'd be really cute, you know that?" "Really? Cute? Geeze, I never though of myself like that before." "You know, I wish that I could see what you would look like wearing girl's clothes. Have you ever tried wearing girl's clothes before?" "No. I never even heard of a guy wearing girl's clothes before." "Oh, it is very common. Guys that like to wear girl's clothes are called transvestites. Trans refers to crossing over, and vestite refers to clothing. Hence, guys who like to wear girl's clothes are called transvestites." "Wow... This is something entirely new to me." "You think that you might like to try wearing girl's clothes? You look cute enough, you know." "Wow, this whole idea blows my mind." "Well, I got an idea. Tonight, why don't you put on some of Mary's clothes, and take a picture of yourself. Then you can scan it, and let me see what you would look like as a girl. I think that it would be really neat, knowing that you look like a cute girl, but that you are really a boy. Would you do that for me?" "I... I guess? I could try it anyway, just promise me that you won't laugh at me, okay Bruce?" "I promise. I have to be away on a job for two weeks, so you have lots of time to try out this experiment." "Okay, by for now." That was how things progressed. The more that I thought about Bruce's words about how I could be a boy, and look like a cute girl, wearing girl's clothes, the more the idea seemed to fascinate me. I decided that I was going to do it. I was not going to do it just for Bruce. I wanted to do it because I was becoming fascinated with what it must feel like to be a girl. So, I bided my time, and in about a week, an opportunity presented itself. Mary was going to be spending a weekend at my aunt Martha's place in the country, to help her with her spring cleaning or something like that. My parents had decided that they needed a mini vacation, so they were going to take a four day weekend, and go to a city that was not too far away. I would be left all alone for nearly three whole days. I was terribly excited about the idea of being able tow ear girl's clothes for three days. I could never explain what it was that made me so excited, but I could hardly wait for Thursday night to roll around. When it got there, I was finally, by six that evening, left all alone. I had bought myself a few boxes of film for the instamatic camera. I would be able to see myself, as a girl, a few minutes after taking a picture of myself. It was expensive, but I just wanted to see myself in girl's clothes. I knew that I would have no trouble fitting into all of Janet's or Mary's clothes, because I was still smaller than they were. By seven, I had bee soaking in a bubble bath, and had dried myself off. For the first time in my life, I walked into my sister's room, totally naked. I stood there, amazed at how small and feminine I was feeling. I felt like the girl's personalities of the girls who lived in the room, was somehow overwhelming me. I felt like they were actually there in the room with me, and teasing me about being such a big sissy. I actually found that I liked the way that it felt. I walked over to the bureau. I noted that Mary had left the clothes that she had worn at school that day, in a messy pile on the floor, beside her bed. I decided that I wanted to know what she had felt like all day long, wearing those clothes in the school, where all the guys had admired her in them. I felt so weak and so vulnerable, and so exposed, as I walked over to her bed, and sat down on it. I knew that she had sat there, probably in the same spot that morning, when she had put these very same clothes on. I leaned over and picked up her nylon stockings. She had not even detached the garter belt. She'd just unhooked the white lace garment, and slid the stocking down her legs. My hands shook slightly, as I picked up the garter belt. I could hardly believe that I was really going to do this, and worse, it was because a guy suggested that I do it. I felt so weak. I knew that what I was doing, was what sissies did. If I went ahead and did this, I would have to look at myself in the mirror every day for the rest of my life, and know that I was looking at a sissy, a transvestite, a guy who likes wearing girl's clothes. If my friends ever found out, I would never be able to live this down. I knew that no matter how hard I tried to think these kinds of thoughts, that I was still going to dress up as a girl. I had no excuses. I had no one to blame it on. I could never be able to say that some one had made me do it. No, I was going to become a sissy, and it was by my own hand. I should have felt shame, but I did not. What I felt was a giddy kind of excitement, as though I knew that I would be doing this thing over and over again. I worked the delicate nylon material up my legs, then stood up and snapped the garter belt at the small of my back. I could not believe how sensuous it felt, as the nylons tightened over my nearly hairless legs. Geeze, it was no wonder that girl's loved wearing these kinds of things. If I had to wear things like this to school, I would have a boner on all day long. It is a good thing that girl's can't get boners. I giggled as I thought of my pretty sister walking down the school halls, with a big tent in the front of her skirt, from her boner. I certainly had one. I could not believe that wearing her nylons had made me so hot. I debated about whether I should deal with it or not, but decided to wait. I sat down again, and I bent over. The next item that was on the pile was the panties that Mary had worn all day long. They were white, and very silky smooth. I was surprised at how soft they felt. I could detect the faint smell of my sister from them. I slipped my feet through the leg holes, and very slowly pulled the delicate garment up my legs. The softness of the silk, sliding over my nyloned legs nearly drove me over the edge. This was the most wonderful thing that I had ever felt in my life. I shivered in delight. Once I had released the panty waist, and I had to do a double take as I thought about myself wearing a panty waist, I leaned over and picked up the bra. Both of my sisters were not very big in the breast department, but I knew that I would still need to pad out the cups a bit. I slid the lacy white straps over my arms and up over my shoulders. Like I had seen them do, I reached behind and did up the catches. I sat there, looking down at the lacy cups on my chest. The elastic bands cupped my own flesh, so that I looked like I had my own girl's breasts. I decided to not pad them out after all. My nipples were so hard, as I thought about them nestling the same satin that had so recently held my sister's breasts. I could not believe how erotic this was turning out to be. I knew that I must be seriously perverted to like these feelings so much. What really concerned, and delighted me though, was that I was beginning to get a sense of my own femininity, and this was terribly exciting to me. I should not feel like I was turning into a girl, but that feeling was there, and it was very strong. I loved the way the feeling made me feel so dainty and feminine. Afterall, my sister in whose clothes I was dressing myself, was a gorgeous petite little girl, and her things were fitting me perfectly. I raised up the white silky lace trimmed slip next. I raised it up over my head, worked my arms into the arm holes, and looked up into it. This was a sight that only my pretty sister had seen before. I let the delicate silk begin to slide down over my head and shoulders. I shuddered. I felt like girlhood was coming down with it, and enveloping me in itself. I wanted to feel like a real girl, more than I had ever wanted to feel anything before. The blouse that she had worn to school that day was a delicate thin silky one, with long sleeves. It was a light silver design, with vertical beige lines, and beige leaves for a design. When I started to button it up, I had some difficulty, as the buttons were done up on the wrong side, and under a flap that hid the buttons. The neck was high, about three inches high, and was secured by four round material covered buttons. The sleeve cuffs had two buttons. When I had it on, I felt Victorian in it. I knew how well my sister had looked in it, and I was thrilled to know that it fit me just as well as it had fit her, only scant hours before I had put it on. The skirt took a bit of figuring. It was a wrap around, in a white and black plaid, that had two little belts over the left hip. I put on my very first skirt, not feeling ashamed at betraying my boyhood, like I should have been feeling, but curious to see how my legs looked, coming out from under a girl's skirt. Mary's shoes were also on the floor. They were brown, with a brass design over the toes, and had three inch heels. I wondered if my feet were as small as hers were. I slipped my nyloned feet into them, marvelling at how it felt. The insides of the shoes seemed to be lined with some kind of soft satin, that felt very nice indeed. I loved the way the high instep of the heels pushed up against my arches. What I really loved though, was the way they made my legs arch a bit, and made my legs look very feminine, and girlish. The shoes fit, much to my amazement. For some reason, I had always thought that my feet were bigger than Mary's. It must be the different designs of the shoes that had given me that impression. I stood up, very uncertainly, and was delighted at the way all the new muscles were being used, muscles that I had never had to use before. I took a few tentative steps. In seconds, I was walking just like my sister walked. It amazed me that I could so easily imitate girlish mannerisms. I went over to the vanity desk, and sat down, noting that I was looking more like my sister than anyone else that I had ever known. I had no experience with makeup, so I limited myself to a light eye shadow, a bit of pink blush, and pink lip stick. I did not want to try using mascara, no matter how much I longed to do everything that my sister had done that morning, when she had dressed herself up in the same clothes that I was wearing right now. Three When I finally knew that I was ready to see myself as a girl, for the very first time, I looked over towards the mirror. I stood up, spritzed on a bit of perfume, the same perfume that my sister had worn that day, when she had worn these clothes to school, and I closed my yes. I took measured steps over to where I thought that the mirror was. Once I was pretty sure that I was in the right place, I opened my eyes. I saw a pretty girl. I did not see me in my sister's clothes. I saw a pretty girl that looked very much like my sister Mary looked. But it was not Mary. I did not look like Janet either. I did see the resemblance to my mother though. I had never seen any kind of resemblance to family members before, but now I knew that I got my looks from the female side. A strong longing when through me, a sort of intense jealousy, because I was not entitled to wear clothes like this. If I had a girl's hormones in my blood, like my sisters did, I would be able to go to school, looking like this, and have the boys hot after me, just like my sisters did. I nearly cried with the conflicting emotions. I hated being a boy, because I could not legally dress like this, and look like this. I hated looking like this, because I knew that I could never again find satisfaction as a boy. I would always remember how pretty I looked, and how pretty these clothes had made me feel, and I would resent that I was not a real girl. I knew for certain though, that I was not a real boy any more. I never could be, not after seeing what I looked like, and knowing what I felt like when I was dressed like this. I felt guilty, because I was betraying my boy hood. I had fought and struggled all of my life to preserve the image of being a normal boy, and now, I looked better in my sister's clothes than I ever had as a boy. I felt anger and resentment. The only difference between them and me was that they had a different hormone, and I had that bit of flesh between my legs. Why had life been so unfair to me? I wanted to cry, but I looked too pretty when I smiled. What was I going to do from now on? I knew that I could never stop my desire to dress up as a girl from now on. This was too nice. I could never give up this feeling. I felt a strange sense of very deep peace inside of me. For the first time in my life, I looked at myself in the mirror, and I felt like I was looking at a whole person. I was one whole person now, and it so happened that my personality was a she, a she that I was not allowed to be. I posed in front of the mirror. I wanted to see what I looked like, doing all of those femmy things that girls are expected to do. I waved at myself with limp wrists. I looked so cute. I twirled really fast, and the skirt flew up to reveal the white panties that I was wearing. I smiled and scrootched up my nose in the funny way that my sister did it, that guys thought was so cute. It was cute, and it was cute on me to. Guys would say the same things about me, if they saw me, I knew. I should not be thinking about guys. I was a guy, albeit a totally emasculated and effeminated one, but a guy none the less. I knew that I did not want to remember that though. Then I watched myself as I executed a very pretty and graceful curtsy. I wondered what it would feel like to curtsy in front of Bruce. I wondered what I would feel like if Bruce were with me right now. Would he kiss me? Would I let him kiss me? Would I like the feel of that bushy moustache? Would he make me feel even more girlish than I already did? Would he think that I was as pretty as I thought that I was? I decided to set up the camera on the tripod. I took three or four pictures. I can not explain the feeling of freedom that I had, as I watched them develop, a permanent record of my girlification. Any one who ever saw these would know that I was a sissy, complete and utterly. I knew, when I saw them develop, that I belonged in girl's clothes. I was not a real boy, but I made a far better girl than I had ever made as a boy. I took about six pictures in total. They were all quite pleasing to me. Wearing my new garb, I went into my room, and sat at my desk, subconsciously smoothing my skirt out under me as I sat down. I could not get over just how completely I had assumed feminine mannerisms. I was a natural acting girl. I wished for a brief moment, that being a boy had been that natural to me. I set up the scanner, and soon had electronic images of myself as a girl. Bruce had given me his e-mail address. I knew that he would not be back for a week, so I decided to send the pictures to him. "Dear Bruce. I did what you asked me to do. I got dressed up in the clothes that Mary had worn to school today. I can not believe how girlish and feminine that wearing them makes me feel like. I almost wish that I had been born as a real girl, because I feel so nice wearing these clothes. I wish that I could have worn them to school today. Well, I took the pictures that you asked me for. I attach them. Please don't laugh at me Bruce, but I really do look much better as a female, than I ever did as a guy, at least I think I do. I think that tonight, I am going to sleep in Mary's bed, and I am even going to wear one of her night gowns. I know that I should not be doing this, but I can not explain how nice it feels to me, and I find that I want to feel everything that a real girl gets to feel. Bye for now, from your boy friend who is wearing his sister's clothes for you." I attached the photos, and started to send the e-mail. As I was doing this, I turned on the chat program. I surfed the chat rooms for a bit, not really finding anything interesting, when an idea hit me. I could sign onto a chat room, and use a girl's name. I could tell everyone that I was really a girl, and everyone would treat me like I was really a girl. I wanted to be treated like a girl. I changed my setting so that when I logged onto a chat room, people would see the name Debi, where my name usually appeared. I went to a popular chat room, where I knew there were lots of young guys. It was only seconds before I had a private message from Kenneth. "Hi Debi. How are you doing tonight? Do you have a picture that you can send me?" I grinned. He thought that I was really a girl. I typed in, "Sure. Here it comes, if DCC is not too slow tonight?" Then I loaded the picture, and sent it. I could not believe that I was really sending a picture to another boy, of me as a girl, and he thought that I was a girl. I did not get an immediate reaction, so I figured that he had an older system where he would have to exit one program to look at the picture. "You is one foxy looking honey, Debi" flashed up on my screen. I flushed with pleasure that a guy looked at my picture, and thought that I was foxy looking. "Thank you Kenneth. Do you have one to?" "Here is comes, babe." In seconds, I started to receive his picture. I wondered what he looked like. When it was done, I opened the file, and I was absolutely unprepared for what I saw. Kenneth, if that was him, was a young guy, thick dark curly hair, sky blue eyes, muscular and totally naked, with an erection held in his left hand. "Did you get my picture all right, baby?" "I... I did not expect one like that." "That is what looking at your picture does to me Debi. I am hard like that, right now. Do you like my cock?" Did I like his cock? I was a guy. I looked at the picture again. "Yes." "Would you like to feel it in your hands, Debi?" I was shaking. I was glad that he was not here with me right now. I do not know what I might have done if he was. I was supposed to be a girl though, so no matter what I was really feeling, I wanted to see how girls on the net got treated. "Yes." I blushed with hotness, as I knew that it was really true. I would like to feel it in my hands, just like any other girl would like to feel it, I assumed. "Would you like to suck on it for me, Debi?" Wow... This Kenneth did not waste any time. He was an aggressive guy, normal guy, I guess. "Yes." I could not believe that I typed that word. I looked at the picture, and I thought about what it would feel like to kiss the end of it, then to open my mouth, and let it slide in between my lips. I could not believe that I was even considering such a thing. "If I was with you right now, Debi, I would let you kneel down in front of me, and take my cock into your mouth. Do you like sucking a guy's cock, Debi?" In for a penny, in for a pound, as the old saying goes. "Yes I do." "Ummm... I have to confess honey, looking at your picture, and hearing all about how much you like to suck a cock has really turned my crank. I could not stop it. Just thinking about a hot looking chick like you kneeling down in front of me, and taking my cock into your pretty lips made me cum all over myself." I was flushed. The idea that a guy would cum, while looking at a picture of me, as a girl, was absolutely thrilling. But I was ashamed of the way that I was feeling to. This was wrong. I was a guy. Not knowing what else to do, I hit the off button, breaking the connection with the guy who had just orgasmed over thinking about me sucking his cock, while he looked at my picture. A part of me, I realised, I did not want to do it. I wanted this guy to talk to me about how pretty and hot he thought that I was, but I did it anyway. I suppose that my ladylike sensibilities were offended. At least now I knew how the real girls got treated, in cyber space. I made my way back into Mary and Janet's room. I decided that I wanted to try wearing a dress, for the first time in my life. I removed the skirt and blouse, placing them in somewhat the same place where Mary had discarded them, and went over to their closet. I loved the delicate scent from the mixed perfumes that assailed my nostrils when I pulled the closet door open. I moved one dress hanger after another one across the pole, till I found the one that I really wanted to try on. Non of them had worn it in a long time, but I had always liked it. I pulled it out. It was a pale lime green in colour, and was made of some kind of silky material. The sleeves were three quarter length, and were trimmed with wide cuffs of white satin. The V neck was trimmed like the cuffs, in the same kind of white satin. There was a wide white plastic belt that went with it to. The front of the top of it looked like a double breasted jacket, no pun intended, and the skirt of it flared out in a fullness that flowed around the wearer's thighs in a most graceful fashion. I lowered it over my head, and did up the belt as tightly as I could. When I saw what I looked like in it, I nearly cried again. It was a beautiful dress, and I was envious of the girls for being allowed to wear it. I wished, for the first time in my life, that I really was a girl, so that I could wear dresses like this one, all the time. I took some pictures of myself in it, lying on the bed, posing at the vanity desk, and I even went out into the living room to take a picture of myself sitting like any other girl might, and watching the television. I decided to scan them to, so I went back to my room. The sight of my computer, made me relive that I had told a guy that I wanted to hold his cock, and that I wanted to suck it, while he was looking at a picture of me, thinking that he was talking to a real girl. I smirked. I wondered if I really could fool a real guy. I turned on the computer, and scanned the pictures. When I was satisfied with the way they turned out, I was about to turn off the computer, when I thought that I might as well check my e-mail before going to bed. I was amazed to see a message there from Bruce. "You are a really cute girl. I wish that I was with you. I would kiss you gently, and make you really feel like the girl that you look like. Call me. 592-6734." I was astounded. He was not supposed to be there. he was supposed to be away for another week. I was trembling. Dare I call him? I jotted down the number, being very sure that I did not have the courage to call him. Four Before I knew what I was doing, I heard a deep voice. "Hello? Hello? Is that you, pretty girl?" My voice cracked. "Ye... Yes?" "I have got to tell you that I think that you are one of the prettiest girls I have ever seen." "Uhhh... Thank you?" I was not sure if I should be thanking a guy for telling me that I was a pretty girl, but I was flattered. "What is your girl name, honey?" "Uhhh... Debi, that is d e b I, one b, one e." "Ummm... That is so cute. Cute, just like you are honey... Debi... That names suits you honey." "Uhhh... Thanks, I guess?" "What are you wearing Debi?" "A green dress..." "I would like to see you in it." "You would?" "Yes Debi, I would. I really would..." I did not know what to say, so I said nothing. "Debi?" "Yes Bruce?" "Would you like for me to come over and see you in your green dress?" "You... You really want to see me in it?" I knew that I was playing with fire, but I had never been so excited in my life. The front of my panties were nearly bursting, I was so hot. "Yes I would, babe. I really would. What is your address?" "1284 Amelia Street." "Wow... That is only four blocks from here. I will be right there honey. Keep your panties dry." I felt so funny, hanging up the phone, having been talked to in a mannerism that is only used when it is expressed towards women. "Keep my panties dry..." I liked knowing that this man knew that I was wearing panties. Ten minutes later, I heard a light rapping on the front door. My heart leapt into my mouth. What if it was not Bruce? What if it was one of my father's friends? I trembled as I peeked around the window frame, but I cold not see anything. Summoning more courage than I had ever thought that I had, I walked over tot he door, acutely aware of the hollow click of my heels on the tile flooring, and I forced myself to turn the knob. I pulled it open, and there stood Bruce. I could not get over how much he looked like his pictures. I shook in fear, as I smiled and welcomed him in. This was the first person who had ever seen me wearing a dress, and he was a guy, and handsome guy. He smiled as he came in. He removed his jacket and tossed it onto a chair. he wore a plaid flannel shirt and blue jeans with a pair of really scruffy brown leather loafers. So, here you are. My, you are even prettier in person, you know that Debi?" "You... You think that I am pretty as a girl?" "Not just pretty honey, but foxy. You could turn the crank of any guy who sees you walking down the street." "Really? Uhhh... Bruce? You want a beer or a soda or something?" "Yeah... A diet Coke would be nice..." I went into the kitchen and got two Cokes. I poured mine into a glass, and that was another first for me, too. I just knew that most girls did not prefer to drink out of cans. I did not feel like it would be normal for me to not use a glass. I took his drink in to him, and found that he had stretched out on the couch in a semi flop. He grinned at me, as he took the can. He was so cute, I thought. I wondered if he was lying to me about how cute I was as a girl. I did not care if he was. It sounded nice. We talked for a few minutes, then he sat up on the couch, and patted the seat beside him. "Why don't you come over here, Debi?" I did not have a good reason for not going over and sitting beside him, just like I had seen my sisters do with their boy friends. I felt a flush of warmth, as I though of Bruce as my boy friend. I would never have dreamed, even this morning, of ever having a boy friend, and here he was in living glory. I went over, feeling very feminine and girlish, and I smoothed my dress out as I sat down beside him. I sat very close, in the manner in which a girl sits close to a guy that she likes. I could feel the heat of his leg right through my dress. "Debi, I would really like to kiss you. You can not imagine how turned on I am, knowing that such a pretty and delicate young lady, has a boy part in her panties. But, I do not want to do anything that you do not want me to do. So it is up to you. Would you like me to kiss you, the way that I kiss pretty girls?" "I... I guess?" I could not believe it. I had just asked a guy to kiss me, while I was wearing nothing but girl's clothes. What has been happening to me? He gently turned half way to face me, and placed his right arm along the back of the couch. I felt it as he let it slide down the back of the couch, so that it was behind my head. He looked at me in the eyes for a long moment. He made me feel utterly feminine. I did not know what to do. I lay my head back, resting it on his arm. I guess that it was the right thing to do, because he smiled at me. He leaned over. I could smell his after shave lotion. I could also smell the face soap he had last used. When his face was right in front of me, he paused for a few moments. I caught my breath. I was dressed up as a pretty girl, and I was about to be kissed by another guy. My cockette throbbed almost painfully in the soft silk of my panties. I did not want to be so turned on about being a girl, but I was. I wanted to be Bruce's girl. I wanted him to really like me, as a girl. Then I felt the moustache lightly tickle my cheeks and my nose, and my lips. It was soft. I had thought that it would be thick and scratchy, but it was not. Then I felt his lips lightly touch my lips. It was so light a touch, that I wondered if I were imagining that he was really kissing me. His lips moved ever so lightly across my lips, and then he sat back. "Kissing you is very sweet, Debi. You are a lovely young lady, in my eyes. Do you want me to kiss you some more?" I could not speak. I was too excited. I nodded my head up and down. Bruce soon had his arms tightly around me, squeezing me against his chest, and his lips were grinding into mine. But it made me feel so loved, and so feminine. I let my arms go up to encircle his neck, and it made me feel as though my whole girlified front was exposed to him. I felt so weak, and so vulnerable. I knew that real girls depended on their guys liking them, and wanting to treat them nice, as their protection. I felt like that with Bruce. Bruce continued to kiss me like that for almost an hour, as we talked, and I got more and more relaxed, and more and more into my girl role. The further I got into being Debi, the more that I like it. Bruce took one of my hands, and placed it on the front of his jeans. "Debi, real girls like to feel a guy like this. Do you like the way it feels?" "Yes... I do... I do not understand it. I am a guy. I should not be liking this so much." He reached over and lightly grasped me through the front of my dress. "The only boy thing about you is right here, in a pair of pretty panties. There is nothing else that is boy like about you." I shuddered and felt ever so weak, when he grasped me like that. I thought I was going to feint, the emotion of being in his control was so strong to me. I shuddered. "Oh... I see the little girl likes to be touched like this?" He began to squeeze me a bit harder, and ground the intimate girl material of the panties that I was wearing, into the only boyhood that I had. I swooned. I grasped him tightly around the neck, and I sucked his tongue deeply into my mouth, and I bucked up into his hand. I could not stop the enormous orgasm that shook me, as I felt a man holding me the way he holds girls. I nearly feinted with the sheer intensity of the bliss that washed over me. I knew that I would always want to take the girl's part from now on. I was a natural girl, or as the old expression goes, I was a Nancy boy, and even though I knew that being such a big sissy was totally derogatory, if felt so sweet to me. Once I had recovered, I found that I had subconsciously replaced my hand on his cock. It was throbbing under my hand. I was thrilled and flattered that I could, as a girl, make a guy like me so much. "Debi, you know what I would like you to do?" "What Bruce?" "I would like you to suck my cock." "You..." I was dumbfounded. He had just told me that he wanted me to become a cock sucker. But, as the idea rolled into my conscious mind, the idea did not seem to be such a bad idea after all. I had been kissed like a girl, and it had made me love Bruce, and had made me feel completely feminine. Bruce had felt me up, and had made me have the wildest most intense orgasm that I had ever had. Sucking his cock would be a natural extension of this new life that I was exploring, I realised. "I... I don't know if I can, but... But if you want me to try, I will, Bruce?" "Debi, I do not want you to try because I want you to. Know guy does not want a blow job. I want you to try because you are a girl, and girls like giving blow jobs to their boy friends." He looked at me for a long moment, as he sat holding my hands in my beskirted lap. "Well Debi? Do you want to please me in that way?" "How...? How do I...?" I could not believe the words that I was hearing pass my lips. Bruce stood up in front of me. I watched, mesmerised as he unzipped his pants, and undid his belt. Was this really happening to me? He unbuttoned the front of his shirt. He unsnapped his jeans, and then, hooking his thumbs into the waste band, he pushed them down. They slid down his legs, down to his knees. He had a really obscene bulge in the front of his white jockey shorts. "Touch it Debi. Touch it like a girl touches her boy friend..." I moved forward on the couch, till I was sitting on the front edge. The bulge in his shorts was only about four inches from my face. I reached up and lightly put my hand on it, as I looked up into his face. I felt utterly submissive to him, and it was such a sweet feeling to me. "Do you want, and I mean really want to suck me Debi?" "I... I want to try, Bruce?" My voice was cracking. I could not believe what I was saying and doing. My grasp on the front of his shorts had tightened as I had spoken my desires to him. I did want to do it. I wanted to look in the mirror in the mooring, and I wanted to be looking at a sissy cock sucker. "Take my shorts down honey..." I reached up with both hands and tugged at his shorts. As his waist band passed the head of his cock, his cock sprang back, and smacked me in the face. I should hate it, but I did not. I felt like a girl, about to suck out her reward. When I got his shorts down to his knees, I looked straight ahead. His cock was there, right in front of me. I smelled his man smell, a smell that I had never smelled from me. I liked it. I reached up with both hands, and I explored it. I was amazed at how the satiny smooth skin seemed to float across a rod of iron just below the surface. It was really hard, and I, as his girl, had made it that way. I felt flattered. I gently masturbated him for a long few moments. I was amazed that I was doing it. I was amazed that I had made him so hard. I was amazed that I was being his girl. "Ummm... I love the way that feels honey, but you can't suck a cock doing that..." I looked up at him, and blushed. He was right of course. I moved my head forward, and placed my lips on the dry head. I had wanted to just give his cock a little kiss, to see how I would feel about having a cock so close to my mouth. What I found was that I had a desire to honour him for having what it took to be a real guy, something that I would never have. In seconds, I was covering his cock head with gentle little adoring kisses. I wanted him to know that I wanted to honour him for being a real guy. The kisses went down the shaft and back up the other side. I was rubbing his cock along my cheeks, as though it was the most wonderful thing that I had ever done. I felt completely free, to be a real girl. Then I moved my lips to the head of his cock again. Ever so slowly, I opened my lips and pressed forward. I felt the hard dryness pass over my sensitive lips. I could hardly believe that I had this much courage. I felt it pass over my lips, and then the head was inside of my mouth. I looked up into his eyes. I could see his bliss written all over his face, bliss that I was giving to him. He pushed a bit, and his cock filled my mouth. I had never had my mouth so full before. I could feel it pushing out my cheeks from the inside. I wondered if he liked what that looked like. I hoped so. I continued to look up at him. He looked down at me, and he had what could only be described as an expression of elated superiority on his face. He was right to feel superior to me. I was not a match for him. I was a girlified cock sucker, and I knew that this was all that I would ever really be. I could never be a guy again, not after finding how wonderful it felt to be a girlified boy. I did not care if I ever felt like a boy again. I liked feeling like a girl too much. He started to jerk and swell up. I knew that he was going to cum into my mouth, just like he would do to any other girl. This was what guys did. They gave their cum to girls, and girls took it with a willing heart. I wanted it to, just like any other girl would. I locked my lips around him, and ran my tongue over his shaft, as I tried to increase his pleasure, as he gave me the reward that girls get. He started to erupt with force into my mouth. I did not think that I was going to be able to keep it all inside of my mouth. I knew there would be hell to pay if I ruined this dress, so I was desperate. I swallowed as much and as fast as I could. I loved the way the salty material felt inside of my mouth, as I swallowed the big gobs of baby maker juice. Soon, I knew that like any other girl, I had taken all that he had, and I had kept it all inside of my girlified body. I was really a girl now. I continued to suck his cock while he softened inside of my mouth. I did not want him to leave me so soon. I tried to make him hard again, but he patted my head and told me that he had already jacked off, when he had seen my pictures in his e-mail, so he was done now for the night. I licked his cock clean for him, and watched as he replaces his habille. I knew that I was going to suck him again, and that it would be soon. I knew that I was not gay, because I did not want to suck him, as one guy to another. I wanted to suck him as a girl sucks a guy she likes. I was a girl. If people thought I was gay, I could not help that. I did not want to be a guy with a guy. I wanted to be a girl with a guy. This is how I became a cyber chick. If you would like to write to me, I am Miss Debi Johnson: e-mail address: [email protected]