Shaving my S1ster Jane rsquo s Forest
- 3 years ago
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Shaving For The First Time free porn video
Shaving for the First Time
By Ricky
If a man in woman's clothing has an odd ring to it then a
6'2", 250# wolf in sheep's clothing is surely fair game for
some hearty guffaws. If there is one thing serious about
the situation it is that I have enjoyed bras, panties and
garters for the last 20 years, and I still do, but I only
enjoy this apparel in the privacy of a motel room or other
secluded setting. When I dress it is for the feel of the
clothing and the intrinsic pleasure it brings, and this
pleasure is largely separate from the rest of my life. I
make no distinction between Ricky and Ralph, and outside of
costume parties no one has seen Ricky except my wife. When
you add this to the fact that I am in serious contention
for the laziest person in the world it becomes obvious that
shaving is an activity that holds little fascination for
me. Besides the beard hides my double chin and keeps small
children from running off screaming.
But all things change. When I discovered Tri-Ess and as I
got to know others with the same peculiar hobby a tiny
devil began to rattle his pitchfork between my ears. I
mean, just what did I look like under all that hair? As I
looked through the directory I felt a pointed thought take
shape: "Maybe you could look like her?" (him?) (them?).
When I strolled through Lane Bryant: "Wouldn't it be nice
to know if this thing will fit before I pay for it?"
scratched at the base of my neck. When the night became
late in my motel room: "Damn it would be nice to take a
walk in a skirt!" began to claw somewhere above my right
eye. But the next morning, when I crawled blearily out of
bed, the thought became "I'm gonna kill myself if I get my
hands on anything sharp when I feel like this!", and the
beard was safe for another day.
That is until the weekend before Thanksgiving when, with
the kids gone for the night, curiosity overcame me. Before
sanity could return in the morning my wife hauled out the
scissors, soap and razor and the deed was done. Well
started anyway. Along the way we made some discoveries.
Like it takes a long time to get rid of a beard that has
had all those years to take root. Like 2 hours. Like the
first shave after 15 years hurts! Like razor burn is not
any better than it was when a teenager I knew was trying
desperately to shape what he then called a beard. Like the
beard I had now was rather blue immediately after a close
shave, and the young man who could miss shaving for 2 days
and never notice was gone forever. Like I had to shave my
chest or wear turtlenecks. Like I'd be damned if I would
shave my arms too. Like it was a Dumb Idea to start this at
1O:OO on Friday night. Like my wife doesn't use the kind of
makeup I need and that the body paint pencils just won't
cover a beard.
Talk about your learning experiences. I won't got into
detail about the other things I learned about trying to
procure makeup in a small town that would cover a blue
shadow, or the gyrations involved to get another night
alone to get the pictures that all this was being done for,
or the funny looking stranger who stared back at me in the
mirror. Suffice it to say that Saturday night all was ready
and Ricky made her first appearance in full regalia. It is
difficult to describe the experience. Since the beard made
the use of makeup rather unnecessary I had never
experimented with it before. I can only try to describe the
warm glow as I sat there, dressed in my favorite bra and
best blouse while my wife curled my hair, painted my face
and generally worked me over. There was a deep, warm glow
to simply sit there and be fussed over, an intensely
pleasurable feeling that every man should know. In a sense
this was the culmination of the feelings that make me
dress, and to be totally accepting for while is a beautiful
experience.
Even the pulled hair, curling iron burns, and exasperated
demands to: "Keep your eyes open until the mascara dries!"
could not dampen the excitement and pleasure. Finally all
was complete and I looked in the mirror. It was kind of a
shock to see my sister in there. Now I know that one of my
stature should not expect Miss America to return his gaze
in the mirror, but anyone but my sister! Please! Oh well, I
guess we are what we are, or at least what our makeup makes
us seem.
Anyway, out came the camera, the flash, the backdrop and
the commands to "Keep your legs together, you're supposed
to be a lady!" and "Straighten your shoulders. If you're
going to wear a bra you may as well show off your
attributes." Somehow those 36 exposures ran through my
wardrobe and poses from serious to whimsical. I'll let you
in on a secret. I'll never get a ride if I hitchhike with
my skirt pulled up on one leg. The 10 days before the
pictures came back were an eternity, and then I learned
something else. I was so excited about my first pictures as
Ricky that I forgot everything I knew about photography.
They were undoubtedly the most technically bad pictures I
have ever taken, and I'm glad that they were processed by a
computer because they were embarrassing. But still in all
they did provide an excuse for Ricky to sit under the
ministering hands of her hairdresser and makeup artist a
second time, which made the situation easier to bear.
This time I retained my former professional instincts, set
the equipment up properly, and zipped through another 36
frames all too quickly. The results were technically
better, but I fear Ricky will never be able to hide her
hairy arms or blue shadow without enough makeup to keep Max
Factor in business forever. A head and shoulders shot
provides a view of a matron that will now be known to the
world as Ricky, for better or worse.
Ah, but now comes the problem. The morning came once again
and I found that I could not convince Miss America to
replace my reflection, even with lucrative offers of multi-
year contracts and promises of anonymity. The thought of
looking at that face every morning while employing a razor
took on it's old horror, and the fun of watching the double
takes diminished as I ran out of people who hadn't seen me
lately. I hereby announce that I have given the razor to my
wife for her legs and the phiz is once again hirsute.
Nanette
- 04.01.2022
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