Bikini Beach Hey Hey Paula
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The Making Of Paula free porn video
The Making of Paula
By Paul Jutras
Born in June of 1970 I started out with a troubled birth. As my
mother told me, I was pronounced medically dead, revived three
times in the hospital and looked after before I was allowed to be
taken home. I guess even then my female soul was rejecting my
male body.
I grew up an only child. My father left the military to open his
own motel and restaurant on neighboring properties to the base.
He spent most of his time working in the office. I found I
preferred spending my time with my mother and the chambermaids
who cleaned the motel rather than with my father. Around this
time I found a lost cat. Even though my father hated cats, he
agreed I could keep her. So I added another female to my
surroundings so to speak. Mom and I soon found a strong bond of
friendship, though I knew she wouldn't believe me that one
Christmas Eve at midnight when I thought I heard sleigh bells and
someone on the rooftop.
When we weren't working in the hotel we would go to the
bookstore. She'd ride me on her bike while I hung on. When we
drove town we'd listen to the same music. Mom did her best to
teach me how to ride a bike, but I never could do it. Born with
one leg shorter than the other, I couldn't get the right balance
between the two pedals to keep the speed up to stay upright
anymore than I could tell her how much I wanted the play sets of
lipstick and nail polish that supermarkets sold. Though that
didn't stop me from using a straight razor on my legs and body
when I hit my teens.
My two best friends were a brother and sister named Jason and
Missy. Our parents considered us the three musketeers since we
did almost everything together. Missy and I set up a little
clubhouse in my backyard where we'd have tea parties, mostly
which Missy and I enjoyed. Though we also played games that Jason
liked, such as pretending the clubhouse was a castle.
Growing up in the state of Maine here in the United States, I
loved it when winter came and we'd ice skate and sled. With the
prickle bushes at the bottom of hill it was always fun trying to
see who could get closest to the bushes without getting pricked.
Then a new boy moved into the neighborhood. His bad influence on
Jason resulted in him stealing some of my toys, making me glad
that I preferred playing Barbie with Missy than cops and robbers
with the two boys named Jason. Though when a company came out
with a series of put yourself and your friends as the stars of a
book, he did help me raise charity money for the MS Read-A-Thon.
As time went by I found myself getting more and more depressed
during the holidays. While Mom handled my birthday, my Great
Grandmother handled Thanksgiving and my Grandmother handled
Christmas. I was jealous of the beautiful outfits my cousins
Jennifer and Katrina wore. They hated getting dressed up in
nylons and frilly clothes, and would always kick off their heels
or Mary Jane's to move about in their stockings feet. As the
photographer in the family I often took lots of shots with them
so that when I was alone in the house in my Mom's clothes I could
lay back and imagine that I was either of them. When I read about
the Composite Superman in DC comics, I'd imagine what it would be
like to take the best quality of both of the two girls and put
them into one girl that could be Paula.
As I kept growing up, things often happened around me. Like the
boy in the movie Poltergeist, my room was covered in all sorts of
Star Wars items. I even had a clown doll Mom gave me in a rocker
chair and an old tree outside the bedroom window that caused me
to really get spooked when I actually saw the Poltergeist film.
Of course the fact that my house was actually haunted didn't help
any. When I was six I woke up to sounds that I couldn't identify.
When I sat up in the bed, I saw a skull floating straight through
the bedroom wall. No one believed that once I saw what could only
have been a UF0 one day when I was waiting for others at the bus
area. Especially since these foot thumps and such things only
happened when I was alone.
At least till the day the Jason, who was my former best friend,
came by to show his knew BB-gun. As I took a carving knife out of
the drawer, we searched for the source of the sound never to find
it. The worst happened many years later when I was 17 and was
watching TV. After hearing the footsteps, an invisible hand
griped my throat and tried to choke the life out of me. A swing
at it's leg drove it off.
When Dad sold the hotel he went back into the military and my Mom
got a job at the chamber of commerce, I was lucky to see him 3
weeks out of the year. Which was fine, since it kept my secrets
from him, such as the fact I always preferred peeing sitting
down. Not to mention going about the house in my Mom's shoes and
clothes.
As I grew older, I outgrew Mom's clothes; I could only wear her
hose; which was much warmer in the Maine winters than longjohns,
especially the feet area. Mom would still get upset with me when
I would sit cross-legged; saying only gay people do that. She
would also be upset when I'd buy my own costume jewelry at the
store, wear her hats about town and especially wear the hose at
school during the winter. Since I preferred using the stalls to
sit down anyway, it wasn't like anyone at school would know. Even
though I did have a close call once during drama class as we had
take off our shoes and do a cave-age performance. I was lucky not
to have the nylons on that day.
As I moved up the grades, I was always more of a tomboy than a
normal boy. A tomboy like my mother, as I considered our
personalities so such the same with much the same tastes, though
she preferred to dress up less than me. Like the bit about
crossing my legs, I could never understand the big deal my
parents and teachers had about me removing my shoes in the
classroom and go about in my stocking feet, like the girls did.
"Why is it okay for them and not for me?" I'd think to myself.
Especially the year I spent in a private school my Dad had gone
to when he was my age. I'd find myself even more jealous of the
lovely clothes the girls wore while I was stuck in blazers,
though I avoided a tie. It was there; however, I learned of the
different shades of nylons, since my Mom and I only wore nude or
tan. The type I wore when Mom first caught me on a winter
Saturday, where I wore it all day until mom caught me and ordered
me to take it off.
When it came time graduate high school, I was never so happy; my
gown was as close a dress I had worn since I out grew her
clothes. I told my mother my feelings and she went to Church to
talk to a priest, only to be told Christians don't do that.
That's when she gave up her faith on The Church and made me try
to be the man she wanted me to be.
When I went to collage in Florida, I tried my hand at business
classes. When I read the form for dorm sign up, I almost marked
Transsexual, but at that time I didn't know the difference
between CD, TS, or TV, so I didn't know what I was. I ended up
just marking Male. I tried to get in the study dorm when I filed
it out, but ended up in the party dorm, which was like something
out of Animal House. I'd go home on the weekends to study and
return to find the stall doors ripped off the hinges and holes in
the plaster.
One weekend the party got so bad that the kids tossed chairs out
the upstairs window and smashed the cars in the parking lot. With
my roommate always bringing his girlfriend to sleep over and the
other guys bringing their girls to sleep over, I wouldn't mention
or bare my feelings. It was around this time that Katrina had a
sleep over one of the weekends I was home. I really wished I
could have been invited, but she at least gave me a picture of
what it was like. After years of games such as house, where I'd
sometimes be father or sometimes the pregnant daughter with a
pillow under my shirt, she had been the first family member that
I revealed my feelings, though I never did ask her for some of
her nail polish like I'd like to.
During collage I did enjoy reading Cosmo and other fashion
magazines I'd borrow from my female classmates. I also got full
Internet access and started to do some real research on the
difference in TS and TV, so I'd know what I was. It was during
this time I also joined the Japanese Anime club at the local
comic shop. I would bring my videos, mostly a collection of stuff
like Ranma 1/2 and other videos that included TG themes to them.
I would buy Sailormoon posters, stickers and other items that
have made the members wonder about me over the years. They've
even called weird from time to time. I considered dressing up a
girl for the costume parties, but I would want people to think of
me as a real girl not think of the clothes as a costume.
I didn't work while I went to collage, but when I graduated I got
myself a job at a local supermarket. Now with my own money, I
could buy my own nylons and fishnets in a variety of colors. At
work wearing unisex uniforms, I would spend my break reading
fashion magazines and talking girl talk with the female co-
workers as I did with my female friends back in Jr. High and High
School lunch time. Like most of the girl workers, I'd wear nylons
under my pants. I sometimes had the fantasy of being caught at
work. This was also where I learned of Nair and started finding
how good it was with hair, that if I didn't wash it all off my
hands when I was done that it would cause me trouble the next
time I'd shampoo my hair.
With Dad going to be gone for six months, I talked to Mom about
my feelings again and this time she started me with a counselor.
My mistake was to show up when a cold front was going through.
Wearing pants and a sweatshirt the counselor would not believe
someone looking the way I did was serious about a sex change,
especially since I was a bit worried about damage to my liver and
other organs that I read about during my research and talking
with the many TS and TV friends I met over the Internet. After
the third visit I realized he wasn't going to understand or come
around, so I dropped him, only to turn to trying to get my mother
to come around to my side.
Now Dad will come home in two weeks and it a matter a choice of
what I do now, ruin Christmas for my parents or not. At any rate
the road from Paul to Paula is never ending thing with hope on
the horizon that Mom will love me enough to side with me, even
against dad.
NOT THE END...
Myra
- 08.09.2020
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