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In The Beginning free porn video
'In The Beginning'
By Jennifer James
[email protected]
I was a 5 year old girl, dressed in a yellow sun suit,
playing with my friend Linda. The sun was shining and we
were sitting on the grass giggling at something, or maybe
at nothing, as little kids do. Then, I woke up. I looked
down at my little boy's body, confused for a moment, and
reality hit me like a 50 pound weight.
I'd also have dreams of flying, soaring over the
neighborhood in the sun with a gentle breeze on my face,
looking down and feeling happy. This dream would eventually
go away, but the girl dreams never would.
As my life went on I would look forward to the dreams at
night, when I could be a girl and everything felt right.
And during my waking hours I lived my life as the boy I
didn't want to be.
Otherwise, though, I had a fairly happy childhood. I had
two wonderful parents who I adored, and was brought up in a
loving home. My father was a quiet soft spoken man who
taught me all the things a boy would need to know while
growing up, and my mother spent hours with me, talking,
listening, and encouraging me in whatever my interests at
the time were. All in all it was a very gender-neutral
upbringing.
I spent much time with my grandparents also, and stayed
with them frequently. My grandfather was a gruff man's man
who showed me off like a trophy to anyone who would listen.
But my grandmother totally fascinated me. She was from an
era where appearance was a priority, and she was to me the
image of femininity. She spent her life, from waking up
till bed time, in stiletto heeled pumps and a dress or a
skirt and blouse, and was still turning heads and eliciting
wolf whistles well into her 60's as she walked down the
street.
As a small child I used to love lounging on her bed on the
mornings I'd stay over, watching her get ready at her
antique vanity with its array of cosmetics and brushes.
She'd sit in front of the triple mirrors in her bra and
girdle with garter stockings, and carefully put on her
makeup and fix her hair, while I sat transfixed, dreaming
of my own vanity, and my own makeup and brushes.
My mother didn't have any makeup around the house to speak
of, nor lingerie, nor clothes that interested me or were
remotely my size. And my sister was 5 years younger so she
wasn't an influence or a source either, so my girl thoughts
stayed within me thru my childhood. I managed to learn how
to appear to be the little boy everyone thought I was, and
my dreams at night were my escape.
My mother always had all the women's magazine around the
house, though, and I read every issue from cover to cover,
and I was always especially attracted to the makeup ads. I
started daydreaming a lot, and imagined myself as the girls
in the magazines. There were no girl's clothes available to
me at home, and I wouldn't have been able to keep them
hidden anyway, but by the time I was 10 I had started
collecting my own makeup collection, which was small and
easy to hide.
I didn't have the courage to buy any of it so I became very
adept at shoplifting from the drugstores and the five and
dimes. Almost daily, at bath time, I'd bring my makeup and
magazines into the bathroom, lock the door, and try to copy
the makeup looks from the ads on to my own face. Not very
successfully, I'm sure, but over time I became fairly adept
with the intricacies of eye shadow, liquid eyeliner,
mascara, and lipstick.
My parents were always yelling at me to 'get out of the
bath already', and in the beginning they probably thought I
was masturbating. But I'm sure that although I did my best
to wash it all off in the bath, they eventually noticed
mascara or lipstick remnants on my face and realized that
I'd been putting on makeup.
But they never mentioned a single word about it.
Within a few years I did discover the joys of masturbating,
but my fantasies at the time were mostly of girls I knew,
and of the usual type, I'm sure.
Blowjobs were a prime source of inspiration, of course, and
about as likely to happen with the girls I knew as finding
a million dollars lying on the street. And while there were
also some sexual fantasies of guys as well, they were not
connected in any concrete way to my girl feelings, to girl
clothing, or to makeup.
They were always of me, as a person, performing oral sex on
a guy - period.
By my mid teens my parents started leaving me home alone,
and by this point in time, I'd grown my hair somewhat,
which was acceptable (though not encouraged) in the 60's.
It wasn't super long, but I was able to comb it down into
bangs and forward on the sides. And when I put my makeup
on, I think (or at least imagined) that I was presenting an
acceptable girl image from a short distance.
I'd sit in the front window of my house, which was on a
major thoroughfare, and watch the traffic go by, and
occasionally catch someone's eye as they were waiting for
the light to turn green. But when evening came and my
family was out for the night I had a strong desire to go
outside as a girl.
I went to a few department stores to buy clothes, but still
lacking the courage to purchase them at the cash register,
I again shoplifted what I needed. By taking several things
into a dressing room I was able to put the clothes on
underneath my boy clothes and walk out.
I managed to pick up a pair of girls dress slacks, a
turtleneck sweater, bra and panties, and some pantyhose
this way. The one piece of clothing I was having trouble
stealing, though, was girls shoes - so I finally went to
the store wearing a pair of really beat up guys shoes,
found a pair of girls shoes I liked, Mary Jane's with a 2"
chunky heel, and I put them on and walked out of the store
wearing them, leaving my old shoes on the rack. That was
one long, nervous walk out of the store.
The next time my family went away overnight to stay at my
aunt's house I was ready, and I got dressed, put on my
makeup, and sat there for hours trying to work up the
courage to go out. At around 1 AM, the streets were empty,
and I went out the back door and through a neighbor's yard
to the sidewalk. I walked around town for hours, ducking
behind bushes whenever a car drove past, but saw nobody out
walking. I was scared to death, and knew that if I was
recognized my life would be over - but at the same time I
had never felt more alive in my life.
My boy life at this time was filled with girlfriends; I was
probably one of the few boys they could talk comfortably
with about anything. I continued to grow my hair and let my
fingernails grow long as well, keeping them shaped and
manicured - and being the sixties, with individuality
running rampant, I was raising no flags with either.
By the late sixties I had grown to 5'8 but was skinny as a
rail, weighing in at about 110 lbs. My hair was almost to
my waist, and I was still going out occasionally late
nights as a girl, but the thrill had gone from that
somewhat.
Being out but not being seen was almost like staying in,
and I was developing a real need to express my girl side.
And into the picture came the car.
I had been saving my money, and on the day I went for my
driving test, I already had my car ready to roll. I took
(and passed) my drivers test, and when I got home I told my
parents I was going to visit a friend down the shore the
next day and would be home late. The next morning, a
Saturday, I woke up early, took a bath and shaved off what
little facial hair I had at that time, put on my panties,
bra, and pantyhose under my boy clothes, said goodbye to my
family, and drove off.
I took the car to a parking lot in a wooded public park to
dress. I changed into my girl slacks and sweater, slipped
some rolled up socks into the bra, and changed into my Mary
Jane's. I put a mirror on my steering wheel, and the first
thing I did was pull out a large safety pin and pierce both
my ears, and inserted large goldtone hoop earrings. I knew
I wasn't going to be able to keep them in, but it was worth
the pain to have them in.
I put on my makeup in the mirror, first some liquid
foundation (I didn't need a trowel full at that age) and
compact powder, and then I started on my eyes. I first
brushed on black eyeliner (it was the cake stuff you added
water to back then), heavy on the upper lash line, and a
thin line under the eye, and then applied eye shadow.
Powder blue was the lid color back then, but I had a triple
shadow kit that also had ice blue for under the brow and a
deep purple for the crease.
My brows had been tweezed somewhat (though nothing like I
do them nowadays) and I used a little eyebrow pencil on
them (amazingly, the exact same Maybelline pencils I still
use today), and finally I carefully brushed on about 5
coats of black mascara on upper and lower lashes. The eyes
probably sound overdone, but, again, it was the sixties. I
applied cherry red gloss, popular at the time, to my lips
and finally brushed on a little powder blush to my
cheekbones.
My hair was very long by then, halfway down my back, and
sun bleached blond. It was center parted as was popular, so
I took a brush and teased it at the crown and leaving some
in the front for side bangs, I brushed the rest straight
back over the teased part and used a barrette to hold it in
the back.
I had forgotten to bring nail polish, so as ready as I
would ever be I started the car and drove to a department
store a dozen miles away. I had expected to be a nervous
wreck when I finally got out, but for some reason it all
felt really natural and right. I was a nervous about my
voice, but didn't figure I'd have to do a lot, if any,
talking, and I had practiced a sort of 'background' voice
that I'd use if I had to.
At the store, I grabbed the cheap plastic purse I'd stolen,
got out of the car, and walked in. The store was very
bright and crowded on a Saturday morning, and I felt
somewhat self conscious when I first walked thru the doors,
but nobody seemed to be paying attention. I got a shopping
cart and for the first time in my life I walked right over
to the women's clothing department and began openly
shopping.
I picked out a pair of black dress slacks, and saw a
ruffled white blouse I was crazy about, but knowing my
access to an ironing board was non-existent, I instead
picked out a nice white fitted V-neck sweater. Into my cart
went a new white satin bra and panty set and some
pantyhose.
In the cosmetic section I picked up some cherry red nail
polish, some nail polish remover, and a jar of cold cream
to remove my makeup with later. I managed to get through
the checkout line without having to talk, and as I was
leaving the store with my bags an older man ran to get in
front of me and said 'Let me get the door for you, Miss' I
smiled at him, and left - but a little bell went off.
Now, as I'd mentioned earlier, despite my desire for girls,
I'd also had fantasies of sucking off a guy and getting a
mouthful of cum. And this fantasy had always been
genderless, but reality always seemed to dictate that it'd
be as a guy since that was all I'd ever pictured being
possible. But now that I was out in public as a girl, and
noticed a few guys paying attention to me, a different
mindset seemed to be developing. It wasn't that there was
suddenly any sexual thoughts attached to the dressing
itself, but it did seem like maybe there was a different
way that this fantasy of mine could be acted upon.
Anyway, I sat in my car in the parking lot, took out the
red nail polish I'd just bought, and started to paint my
nails for the first time. It was trial and error, I'd paint
one okay, mess up another, remove the polish from that one,
start over, and the car was thick with the fumes of the
polish and the acetone remover. But by the time I was done
and all the nails were a nice shiny red, I'd learned a
little bit about the technique, and as I started driving
away I couldn't take my eyes off my red fingertips - and
all I could picture were those red nails a few inches in
front of my eyes, wrapped around a cock shaft as my lips
were wrapped around the cock head, waiting for a mouthful
of cum.
Not knowing where to go next, I headed towards a mall I'd
been to a few times before as a boy. I sat in the car
gathering courage for a few minutes, and then got out of
the car and headed in thru the main mall entrance. I didn't
really want to buy anything; I just wanted to be seen? So I
started walking around, looking in all the store windows,
but mostly looking at my own reflection.
Though I'd seen myself as a girl many times, it had never
been full length, and it was completely different seeing
myself out in the real world. I walked through the entire
mall, and still not having a ton of confidence, spent a lot
of time looking around to see who was watching me. But
again, nobody seemed to be paying much attention - except,
once in awhile, I'd notice a guy looking with apparent
interest. Well, I started getting really hungry, and there
was no way I was going to order anything at one of the mall
places because I couldn't do that without speaking, so I
left the mall and got back into the car.
I drove to a nearby supermarket where I parked, went
inside, and picked up a quart of chocolate milk and a box
of donuts, and brought them over to the express checkout.
Well, it turned out that the checkout girl was one of those
who had to talk to everyone. And fortunately I was the only
one in line.
As she was ringing up the food, she said 'Hi, honey, how
are you today?' And I just replied with a kind of
background, 'Fine, thank you' - but as soon as I answered
her she focused on me and started staring.... Fortunately,
all she said was 'You look nice honey' and I again said
'Thank You,' but knew I'd been read, big time.
I took my bag and blushing, hurried out of the store. But
again, at the door, a guy stepped in front of me, smiled,
and said, 'Allow me' as he held the door open. I smiled
weakly back, still feeling strange from having gotten read,
and headed towards my car. And in the car I sat, drank my
milk and ate a few donuts as I thought about where to go
next.
The weather was starting to turn crappy, not cold but a
light rain had started, and I didn't have a coat. So for
lack of anything better to do, I decided to drive down to
the shore. I pulled out my mirror and makeup, and fixed my
face a little, but ended up just having to slide on some
more of the cherry lip gloss.
By the time I hit the Parkway I really had to pee badly. I
hadn't really thought much about this beforehand, but now I
was wondering exactly what I was going to do about it. So I
headed towards a rest area on the Parkway to use a ladies
room.
Pulling into the rest area, I grabbed my purse and walked
fast into the building thru the light rain. I headed into
the ladies room and immediately into a stall, where I hung
my purse on the hook, pulled down my slacks, and relieved
myself completely. I fixed my clothes and left the stall,
and since there was no one right there at the time I
stopped at a sink with a mirror and brushed out my long
hair. Since the lighting was good, I also took out my eye
shadow and added a little more color to my lids, and I was
just finishing off with a little more lip gloss when I
glanced to my right and saw an older tight lipped woman
with a young girl giving me extremely dirty looks.
I honestly don't know if she was reading me or just giving
me dirty looks because I was maybe looking like too much of
a slut, to her, with the fairly heavy eye makeup and the
red lip gloss, but I hurried out of there. I didn't have a
clue what the law would say if I got caught in a ladies
room, but I was scared to death of finding out.
It was now almost dark as I started driving down the shore,
and right after I got off the Parkway exit I saw a teenage
boy hitchhiking on the side of the road, as was especially
common back then. I drove right by him, of course, but as
soon as I'd passed him I had a thought of picking him up
and offering to blow him. Reality hit, of course, since
there was no way I could offer to suck him off without
speaking and getting myself read, but even if I somehow
could find a way past that, and did start sucking him off,
the potential for violence if I was discovered was too
great.
I kept driving down to the boardwalk, and though it wasn't
summer yet and there were no major crowds there, the video
arcades were open year round - so I found a parking spot a
block away, grabbed my purse, and headed towards the
arcade. The rain had stopped, and as I got to the boardwalk
there were a group of teenage boys leaning against the
railing near the arcade entrance. I walked past them self
consciously, and not a sound came from any of them - but as
I turned to go into the place, I looked back quickly and
saw that most of them were staring at me.
Once inside, I went over to the bill changing machine and
got a few dollars worth of quarters, then walked over to
the pinball machines and picked one that was in the center
of an open group of three, and fed in a quarter and started
playing. I was actually a pretty good player, and for
awhile I stood there flipping the balls around as the
lights flashed and the bells rang, but I soon noticed some
boys standing a little bit off watching me play - or
pretending to.
I was there to be seen, of course, but tit was pretty
disconcerting being under that kind of scrutiny, so when
that quarter ran out I left the machine, and left the
building to go out on the boardwalk. It was fairly empty,
with just a few small groups of guys sitting on benches,
laughing, along the beach side and I slowly walked down the
middle listening to the ocean and fantasizing about sucking
off one, or all, of the guys in the groups I'd pass at a
distance - that bell really had rung.
It was getting late, though, and despite my excitement at
the day I'd had, I was getting tired. So I walked back to
my car, again passing by various groups of boys who again
got quiet as I passed. As much as I hated the idea of going
back to boy mode, I had to do it, there was no place for me
to sleep if I stayed out, and not even a place to wash. So
I started driving home, and again stopped at a Parkway rest
area to pee, this time uneventfully.
Just before I reached home there was a final rest area, and
I pulled into the back of the parking lot there, and sat in
the front seat taking off my red nail polish. I pulled out
my jar of cold cream and some tissues and rubbed the cream
into my face and wiped off the makeup. I climbed over into
the back seat and got undressed, took off my bra, panties,
and pantyhose and changed back into my boy clothes. I took
the barrettes out of my hair and brushed it out and put it
back into the normal ponytail I wore, and lastly (and I
really hated doing it) took the hoops earrings out of my
ears, knowing the holes would be closed up by morning.
I got out of the back seat and back into the driver seat
and looked myself over in the rearview mirror, and in the
parking lot lights everything seemed to look okay. So I
headed home, parked the car, and walked into the house and
into the living room where my parents were sitting watching
TV.
As usual, they asked how my day had been, and I told them
it had been nice, but that I was tired from driving and was
heading to bed. My mother seemed to have an odd look on her
face as I left the room, and when I walked into the
bathroom and turned on the light I could see why. The cold
cream had taken the bulk of the makeup off, but in the
light there was still a lot of mascara stuck to my lashes,
some eyeliner was still there, and my lips were still
somewhat red, stained from the gloss. I scrubbed my face
with soap and water, vowed to find a better way to remove
my makeup in the future (which turned out to be baby oil
for my eyes and a wet soapy washcloth for the lips and
everything else), and I left the bathroom and headed right
into bed.
And for the first time the girl dreams I slipped into were
of me, in my car, leaning over a guys lap, his cock in my
mouth.
Author's Note: This story, although probably boring as
hell, is totally true. If you'd like to email me any
comments anyway, please do: [email protected]
Rowan
- 24.09.2022
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