Mommy s twisted Birthday Present
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Belinda's Second Birthday Present free porn video
Belinda's Second Birthday Present! ? by; Belinda Brookes.
It started two years ago at the age of 58. I thought that I was the
classical closet heterosexual TV, but my life has taken on a new
dimension and has continued to shock and surprise me.
I had 'found' sissy chat rooms a couple of years earlier, in particular
Mrs Silk's. I had established my email: [email protected] and I had
advertised for pen pals, but made it clear that I would not go beyond
that. But then I got an email from someone very similar to me, who said
they were 'troubled' and could I help!
He was, or should I say 'Christine' was a few years older than me, and
had discovered dressing later in life, unlike me. I remember being
caught by my Aunty when I was four! I had found her silk pink French
panties, her bra, and high heels and I had put them on, and her pearls
and her hat. She found me, thinking that I was very quiet upstairs and
then paraded me downstairs to show my Grandmother, Mother and other
Aunties. I was very pleased with this attention and they were in
hysterics with laughter. It was never mentioned again.
Christine and I got on very well. We were both married with no plans to
change this, and we were not expecting any friendship or for it to go
anywhere. We had similar issues, a desire to dress, but no real
opportunities and a love of everything feminine and female. Neither of
us wanted to be female, you know go the whole way! We did love to
dress, sadly unconvincingly from time to time.
We met in the chat room, and talked about our favourite outfits and the
excitement of it all. We also, from time to time, encouraged the other
to "cum" when we 'privated' each other! It was all very innocent and
safe and distant, until one day when Christine was very very stressed.
There had been a death in the family, there were problems at work, and
with the neighbours, and Christine needed a 'face' to talk to! It took
a month of pleading by Christine for me to give my mobile number, but
eventually I did, but with strict instructions about timing of calls
etc.
We used the phone to talk, and gradually I began to look forward to our
conversations, and Christine's stubborn sense of humour. We discussed
outfits we had seen, and as we both visited Manchester from time to
time, we often discussed window displays of new season fashion in King
Street and Marks (good for underwear in the sales, but not much else!)
Christine suggested buying me a coffee, 'to thank you for all your help
and counselling' she said. She was still a bit stressed about her
hobby, but other things in her life were 'sorted'. Again, it took me
four months to agree to this, but we did meet at a caf? bar, for
coffee.
The first meeting was very difficult, and after it, we did not speak or
email, or chat for another six weeks or so. I think that it was all too
much for us. We were locked into our own fantasies, were both
heterosexual cross-dressers, and we were both a bit shocked that
neither of us looked or acted as we had imagined.
I rang Christine to say that, and she said she felt exactly the same,
so we agreed to meet again, at another Caf? Bar know for its TV
waitresses. We enjoyed the meeting a bit more, making quiet comments to
each other about the waitresses, and as we were both on the train that
evening, we drank some beers and a bottle of wine between us.
I spoke for the first time in my life about my fantasies to dress and
be discovered, and have to provide sexual favours to the man or woman
that found me in that state. I couldn't believe my openness and
frankness, trusting a complete stranger with these very secret
thoughts. But, I felt the better for the telling.
Christine was curious about my excitement of being discovered by a man,
and asked me if I was gay. I said that it was a new thought to me, and
it did excite me, but that I had yet to meet a man that I was attracted
to, and didn't think I ever would. Christine went very quiet at this,
and seemed to be lost in her own thoughts.
She told me about her fantasies. They were mainly along the lines of
getting dressed and then playing with her equipment until she came all
over her underclothes or outfit. She was not comfortable being a sub,
unlike me, and always wanted to be in control. Either way, she did not
go as far as I did in this direction.
And so, our relationship grew from there, we would meet almost weekly
for lunch or after our work in Manchester. We would talk once a week on
the phone and we would email from time to time. We did become friends.
I learned about Christine's happy marriage, her kids, her hopes for
retirement and her interests with her hobby, which were different from
mine. She learned about my happy marriage, kids, hopes and ambitions.
We bought each other Christmas and Birthday cards, and on her second
birthday together, I bought Christine a cross-dressing day in Lymm in
Cheshire.
She was shocked and thrilled, and promised me the photos, etc.
It took months before Christine took up the voucher I had bought, and
that seemed a bit odd. But after her day in dresses, Christine went a
bit quiet about that part of our conversations. So we talked about lads
things, football, women, moans about work etc. for a few months.
I caught Christine looking at me, holding my stare for a moment longer
than normal and smiling a lot at what I said. Christine helped me and
supported me. It was nice. I enjoyed it. She did eventually show me the
photos, which were lovely, but again I sensed some disquiet from
Christine about the experience, which she would not share with me. She
seemed strained somehow, as if something very deep was worrying her.
Then it was my birthday, I was 58, and we agreed on a whole day and
evening together. I wondered if I had been bought the same present!
We met for coffee at 11am. Christine had a carrier bag with her. She
gave me a card, which I opened. It said, "With lots of love to my best
friend Belinda, may she enjoy being discovered, and all that follows!"
It was signed: "Christine xxx."
"Now," said Christine, "Take this part of your present, and take them
into the gents to put them on, and swap your male clothes for them, and
then put your male stuff in the bag, and come back. Put all your
valuables, credit cards etc., into your new handbag."
I stared at Christine! She said, "Go on then, whilst I order your
drink."
I took the bag, and went into to the gents, and found that I was
looking at a beautiful, bra, and panties in red satin. The panties were
high cut and tailored, and the suspenders set had four thick elastic
stocking holders. There were also some black stockings and a sleeveless
white cotton top, with a sweetheart neck and red trim. It was designed
to just expose the mid-drift. There was a small, sweet, red satin
handbag with a long over the shoulder string. You know, the type that
are worn diagonally, and sits on the hip.
I quickly stripped off my underpants socks and shirt, and put them in
the carrier bag, not noticing there was no heating in the toilets. I
enjoyed pulling on the stockings, fastening them to the suspender belt,
putting on the bra and pulling up the panties, and slipping on the
cotton top. I pulled up my trousers, some baggy, jeans, and my white
trainers. I put my credit card into the handbag, which I noticed
contained some lipstick and other makeup, and, put everything else into
the carrier bag. I put my denim jacket back over my new top, and bra,
and walked out of the toilets.
"Isn't this cosy Belinda?" she said.
"Yes Christine." I replied.
When I had walked back across the Caf? Bar I felt the stockings pull
against the suspender belt, with every step I took, and the pull of the
bra straps as I walked through the main room towards our seat. I also
felt conscious about carrying my handbag in my hand, and in the other,
the carrier bag. I felt very self-conscious, certain that others knew
what I had on under my clothes and had noticed that the carrier bag had
gone into the Gents half empty, and had come out quite full. I also
felt odd, carrying everything in my handbag, and nothing in my pockets.
Did I say "MY handbag?"
"Yes," I said, sitting next to Christine on the bench seat. Not a lot
of space for two, but just enough, if you didn't mind your hips
touching! "Yes it is cosy," I said, and thank you so much for the
present," I said.
"Oh, that isn't all your present, that is just part of it" Christine
said.
"What's the rest?" I said hardly suppressing the excitement in my
voice.
"Just tell me if they fit and what you think of your outfit," Christine
said.
"They are gorgeous, so soft against the skin, and yet they make you
conscious that you are dressed excitingly, and when they you move, they
do, and it is so erotic," I said, "They fit perfectly, how did you
guess my size?"
"Are you getting hard?" She said sharply.
"Yes," I flushed, and gasped huskily, casting my eyes down and feeling
my face burn.
"You're blushing," Christine said, "Is that with excitement or
embarrassment, or both?"
"Both," was all I could breathe. Suddenly, the whole mood of the
meeting had changed from being relaxed, open and even, to being
intense, exhilarating and heart thumping. I felt vulnerable and
exposed, never having seen or experienced this side of Christine
before.
"Just relax," Christine said smiling, "That was all a bit sudden,
wasn't it? It's just that I have been doing a lot of thinking, which
led to me to organise the second part to your present. Would you like
to hear about it?"
"Yes please," was all I could manage.
"Excuse me," Christine called across a waitress. "I'll order these,"
she turned to me, smiling. "I'll have a Beck's, and my friend will have
a Half Bottle of Chardonnay."
"Do you wish to order any food sir?" she said,
"Later," he responded. She wiggled away from us, we both smiled at her
antics.
"Today," he said excitedly, "You are going to spend the rest of your
time with me as Belinda."
"My present to you, is to treat you as a woman for the rest of the day,
hence the need for you to be in women's underwear, and to wear a
woman's top, and to drink and eat what a woman might." Christine
smiled. "And I want you to think of me a Chris, my real name. What do
you say Belinda?" He beamed.
"So," I said, "Your present is to make me, feel and act as a woman for
the rest of the day? Oh, that is so considerate, and so-o-o-o what I
want, how lovely. But why Chris?" I said hesitatingly, getting used to
the new name, recognising his masculine, not feminine side for the
first time ever, and, warming to this man's lovely idea of a very
personal present, that he had thought up just for me. I felt so loving
towards him, and very special at the same time. Did I say Loving? How
odd!
"Typical," he chuckled ruefully, "So like a woman, never accept
anything at face value, always ask a question!" He smiled, holding my
gaze for a moment.
He poured my drink out for me and said, "Bottoms up!" with a twinkle in
his eye. There was something in the way that he had said it that made
it sound very suggestive and anticipatory, if there is such a word. We
drank our first drink.
"Thanks," I said softly, "Thanks Chris."
"Don't worry," he said, "I do not plan to get inside your knickers on
our first date," he said laughingly. "I just want to treat you as a
lady for the day. After we have something to eat hear, we will do a
little shopping, and go for a walk. Is that OK with you?"
"Yes, fine," I said. "But we could go round as two girlfriends if you
like," I said.
He answered by frowning and saying, "I have been doing some serious
thinking Belinda. He paused. He looked at me, and asked me to put my
bag round my shoulder, "as it should be worn. You'll lose it if you
don't wear it," he said.
I looked around, the place was empty, we were sitting round the corner
from the bar, and it was unlikely that anyone would come onto our table
without us seeing them first. I lifted the string over my head, and
opened my denim jacket to let it lay across my chest, but under the
jacket. I fastened the jacket back up.
"Did I tell you to do that?" Chris said, sternly?
"What?" I said, surprised and alarmed at his tone.
"Unfasten your jacket Belinda," he said, "Or, I'll call the waitress
over to ask her if she likes your top." I did what I was told.
"Let me tell you what I have been thinking about. Bottoms up," he said.
I did what I was told, and he refilled my glass. "Another bottle
please!" He called to the waitress, and I hoped that she didn't notice
my unbuttoned, but not open denim jacket, or my handbag, with its
should strap, or should I say string, falling between the slight bumps
of my bra cups.
"When I went to your day in a dress day, which I did enjoy, I realised
how thoughtful you had been and wanted your present to be just as
special," he said. "And whilst I did enjoy the fuss and the care and
kindness of the women dressing me, I did discover something very
profound about myself." He looked at me.
"Firstly, I am bi-sexual and not hetero-sexual," he said. "And,
secondly, I don't really like dressing as a woman, but I am attracted
to men that dress as women." He fell silent, looking down at his drink.
Waiting for a response. His voice went very soft and guttural, and he
said, "I realised that I am very attracted to you."
He went on, "This is why I didn't want to show you the photographs for
so long, and what I have been avoiding telling you for some months!" I
was stunned.
"So," I said, after a long, long pause. "You want to be a real man for
me?" He turned to look at me. "And, you want me to be a real woman for
you?" He nodded slowly.
"This is the best birthday present I can ever remember," I said. He
smiled with relief.
"So its OK with you, Belinda?" he said quickly, searching my eyes for
the truth. "I would love you to be my boyfriend," I said.
"Oh fuck," he said.
"No need for that language dear!" I said pointedly.
"Sorry," he said apologetically, "Quite right! No excuses in front of a
lady."
"There is more," he said, "I want an affair with Belinda! There," he
said, "That's everything out in the open." He slumped in his chair,
with relief and looked at me again.
"Lets see what today brings," I said, "before we look at anything
else." I was beginning to think and act sensibly, like a woman would.
Being careful not to hurt Chris's feelings, and at the same time
thinking through the next steps. "Bottoms up," I said, holding the wine
glass to my lips and then holding it up for him to clink with his
bottle of beer.
"Oh Belinda," he said, "Thank you for being so understanding, I was so
worried that I was going to frighten you off."
"Lets eat!" I said to Chris, and he picked up the menus.
"You are having a salad," he said, "And a small potion at that!" You
are beginning to look pregnant in that outfit." He said looking down at
my tummy. He was right, I did look pregnant! He called over the
waitress and gave her the orders, and asked for another bottle
of wine for me, and a beer for himself.
We enjoyed our meal, and our drinks, I really relaxed, felt a little
drunk, and kept thinking how lovely, and how lucky I was to have met
him, and how right it had been for me to confide in him.
At the end of the meal, he turned to me, took my hand, placed it on his
lap, and said, "Perhaps we are both hard." Moving my hand onto his
groin, and feeling, for the first time in my life, another man's
hardened and enlarged cock under my hand.
I did what any self-respecting woman would. I said, "Who's a big boy
then?" and "Who is a naughty boy then?" I gently pressed my hand on his
cock, it seemed to grow another inch, under the pressure. "Pity its too
public for a blow job!" I said. He looked shocked for the first time,
and not in control for the first time that day.
"You wouldn't would you?" he said throatily, "I've been thinking about
this moment for months." I continued to stroke him gently through the
thin material of his pants.
"That's for me to know, and you to wonder," I said, smiling and gently
stroking him. He asked for the bill. We left the pub, me with my denim
jacket falling open, not holding hands but clearly together, and we
spent the next few hours shopping. He bought me a nightie, and we
looked at some shoes and dresses, quite relaxed in each other's company
and with the shop assistants.
Later, he walked me to his car. I was on the train, and he had driven
to Chester, for our meeting. "I'll drive you to the station," he said.
We got in the car, and he started the engine, the CD started playing
some soft music.
"That's nice," I said. He turned up the volume. "My train is not for
another three-quarters of an hour," I said.
As the engine warmed up, the heater began to spread hot air around the
car. He had parked on the top floor of the multi-storey car park. He
said that it had been crowed that morning, and now it was the only car
on the top floor, open to the sky and with a good view of the river and
the racecourse. I relaxed further. "Thank you, so much," I said, "for
such an amazing present, and for making me feel so special. I feel so
good!"
He looked at me and said, "As I said earlier, I don't expect to get
into your panties on our first date, but I would like to see them."
"Take off your trousers, and your denim jacket," he said.
Why not, I thought, he has been so kind, and I do feel relaxed and (say
it quietly) sexy? Why not? I looked at him, and began to undo my pant
buttons, zip, and slip them off my legs, revealing my stockings,
suspenders, and panties. I heard him gasp.
"Do you like them?" I said.
"Great legs," he said, pity about the pot, and the hairs, but we can do
something about both over time," he continued. "Take off the jacket!" I
did, feeling the air on my sleeveless arms immediately, feeling sexy,
vulnerable and a bit of a vamp.
"You have lovely arms, so soft and feminine," he said. "Your quite
hairless on your upper body," he said, "Very sexy! I want to touch
you," he said, reaching over to me, and beginning to caress my
shoulder. It was lovely. I looked down, and saw that his monster was
beginning to stir again. I felt a responsibility to help him.
"Now I have shown you mine, will you show me yours?" I said, touching
Chris through his pants. He drew down his zip, and his pants, it was a
monster! I reached for it, and leaned over to him, kissing him on the
lips. He responded.
I stroked him, and he played with my nipples. I was totally lost by
now. If he had asked to fuck me that night, I think that we would have
done, but that was to come on a later date, as did so many other
things, but more about that, another time.
I reached into my bag, and brought out the hand lotion I had seen in it
earlier. I poured some on my hand and placed it round his cock. He
groaned. I started to hold it and to gently rub it up and down its
length. He moaned in ecstasy. My hand began to move faster, I could
feel that he wasn't too far from release. His hips began to buck, and
his breathing quickened. I felt in control. Sometimes I slowed, and so
did he, and sometimes, I quickened and so did he. He was sobbing now,
begging for release, and I held him tighter, and pumped harder. I
didn't have long to wait. He came all over me, his legs, the dash, and
my hands. I thought, in for a penny, in for a pound, and licked his cum
off my hands.
He turned his head to me, smiled and said, "Thank you Belinda. Now its
your turn!"
"But, today, I am not going to touch you. You are going to touch
yourself. Now," he said, "feel you nipples through and then under your
bra, but keep it on. Open your legs so that you get used to feeling
open and accessible at all times. Play with your thighs at the top of
your stockings, pull your pants to one side, and start playing with
yourself. I want to hear lots of gasps and moans!"
I did as I was told, becoming more and more aroused, by doing this in
front of another man. At last my hips bucked and my hands flew and I
came in buckets, over myself, and his car. Again I licked my hands
clean.
"Good girl," he said. "I have great plans for us," he said, "but I want
to lay down some ground-rules. I want an affair with you, but I will
never live with you Belinda. I will never leave my wife, and you will
never leave yours. I just want someone to have fun with from time to
time, and that my dear is with you." I listened.
"I will," he said putting his arms around him and pulling me into his
chest, "I will speak to you again about the terms and conditions of
this deal, but I want you to know that one day I will get into your
panties, and I promise you that you will want to feel my monster inside
your mouth, and your cunt."
"You will lose that pot for me, and you will lose your hairy legs, and
your pubic hair will be trimmed, and this will be your only body hair
below your eyes. You will take up some fitting hobbies, piano playing,
knitting, cooking and embroidery. I will call you to discuss the
details and would welcome your own ideas and thoughts about our affair,
but for now, you had better get dressed Belinda, or you will be late
for your train."
And he did, but that is another story.
To Be Continued - Belinda Brookes
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