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This is the second published story in a series I'm writing, based on events taken from my own life. Chronologically, however the events described herein took place well before the episode described in my first story, "Laundromat Love." Like it, the following story is basically true. As always seems to be the case, "real life" stories are never quite as tidy and cohesive as their fictional counterparts, so I have exercised a certain amount of creative license here and modified some of the details to make the story more interesting, and to give it more of a real coherent plot. Readers of my previous story can probably skip the following "About Me" section, as it is taken almost word for word from that text. Those of you who haven't yet read Laundromat Love (and you should, cuz it's a hottie!!) really should take the time to read this section, as I believe that to know a little about me and my somewhat unusual situation helps to fully understand and appreciate the story that follows. First, a little about me. I'm a transgendered girl in her early thirties, living in a small northern university town. I am fully "out of the closet"; however, I have my own means of gender expression, which forms the crux of many adventures I've had, some of which I intend to write about soon. Let me explain: I've been cross-dressing most of my life, and I came out as transgendered about 11 years ago. With the help of a close female friend, I decided at the time to see if I would really be happier as a female, and so I embarked on my own "real-life test", living and working fully as a woman for over a year. It was an exciting and enjoyable time, but the results were "inconclusive", as they say. Again with my friend's help, I decided to begin living as exactly what I was (and am): a feminine guy, and over the years I have developed my own unique style. And, this is most often how I present myself today. I typically wear casual feminine/androgynous clothes, makeup, and quite a bit of silver jewelry. I love earrings; my ears are pierced twice each, and I have a wonderful and extensive collection of danglies, hoops of every size, post-and-back style earrings, and so on. I also have a large collection of silver bangles, about thirty, which I never remove, except when I clean them occasionally. Each bangle is unique, and each one has a story. I also wear other bracelets on my other wrist (the bangles are always on my left), as well as lots of interesting rings, toe rings and ankle bracelets in summer, and often a necklace or two. I'd say over 90% of my jewelry is silver, much of it hand-made and unique. My hair is dark brunette, curly, and comes down to the bottom of my shoulder blades. I got it straightened once (a big mistake!) and when straight it was long enough to reach the small of my back. Oh, and I have REALLY long nails. They're well over an inch past my fingertips, and have been that length for over three years now. I always keep them immaculately manicured and I almost always wear polish on them (and on my toes in summer). I wouldn't say I crave the limelight, but I have to admit that I do like the attention my nails draw from time to time! At the time this story begins, however, I didn't yet have nails this length. They were the more "average" length of about a quarter to three-eights of an inch past my fingertips. Among other things, this story describes how my long nails came to be! Day to day, I usually do not wear dresses, preferring instead casual clothes like tight jeans, shorts, and now and then, a skirt. My tops are all fairly feminine, but usually casual: girls' t-shirts, ethnic embroidered tops, peasant blouses and the like. I do tend to wear high heels quite often, but I generally wear the tall, chunkier heels that are popular these days. I also don't usually wear a bra. I'm lucky enough to be very slim and fine-featured, and for the most part I've had quite an easy time of it, being a feminine guy. To be honest, I suppose that's largely because most casual observers would, on seeing me for the first time, simple pick up on the obvious feminine cues and merely assume that I am an unusually flat-chested girl. I also credit the rather tolerant, liberal nature of our little university town for my easy acceptance as well. That's not to say that I don't ever dress fully as a girl. I do, quite often. I have a collection of beautiful dresses, skirts and tops, strappy little high heels and some really fine lingerie. I adore ethnic style clothes, and have quite a lot of clothing from India, Bali, South America, etc. as well as a couple of very dramatic Spanish- style dresses and skirts. But more often than not, I save getting glammed-up fully "en femme" for special occasions: going to parties, dancing, or clubbing, and of course, for going out on dates. My first story, Laundromat Love, describes a brief but wonderful affair with a very special guy. By that time, I was a "veteran" of several relationships with men. This story describes my very first. First Love It was New Years Eve. That year, I'd received rather a lot of invitations to parties, and was reluctantly forced to trim the list down to three, hoping to end up at my close friends Rick and Julie's party some time before midnight. I was excited. Just days before, I'd found a gorgeous dress to wear, with shoes to match, and some stunning real Austrian rhinestone jewelry. The dress was floor length black velvet, with silver embroidery at the hem (to readers of my previous story: yes, it's the same outfit!). It was gloriously slinky and form fitting, low cut, with thin spaghetti straps, and daring, thigh-high side slits. At the time, I was just starting out in my own graphic design business, and thus was chronically short of money, but on this occasion I felt that the splurge was justified. I spent the afternoon in a crowded neighborhood beauty salon, having my hair, nails and makeup done. At the time, my nails were a more "average" feminine length, about a quarter inch past my fingertips, not the inch and a quarter talons I have now. My usual stylist, Beth, had outdone herself, setting my hair in a lovely romantic upsweep, with soft, wispy tendrils around my face and neck, my nails frosted a deep, rich red, with lips to match and deep, dark, romantic eyes. Back in my apartment, I stripped naked and donned my beautiful black lace panties, garter belt and sheer black stockings, then a lovely black strapless longline bra with lacy padded cups. I'd done the old drag-queen trick in which I lifted and squeezed my pectorals together with surgical tape to simulate cleavage, and when I looked at myself in the mirror I thought that my bust line looked exquisitely seductive. Excitedly, I fastened my delicate rhinestone necklace around my neck, put in the matching earrings, and clipped the bracelet around my wrist. Finally, I slipped into my new heels and then into the dress. "You foxy babe!" I said to myself as I surveyed my reflection and tugged a few errant folds out of the fabric, "You look good enough to eat!" I noted with a sly smile that as I moved, tantalizing glimpses of stocking and garter would peek fleetingly through the slits. Elated, I made some final adjustments to my "breasts", did some totally unnecessary touchups to my makeup, and grabbed the evening bag and wrap I'd borrowed from a friend. I threw a few makeup items into the bag, along with a little money and my driver's license, draped a lacey black silk wrap over my shoulders, then slid into the long faux fur coat I'd borrowed as well. I traded my heels for a pair of tall, high-heeled black leather winter boots, and threw the shoes into a small cloth bag. Finally, I was on my way. It was a cold night, and my car barely had time to warm up before I was at the first party on my evening's agenda. It was still early in the evening, and things there were still pretty quiet. I got a chance to catch up with some old friends, receive a few glowing compliments on my outfit, and down a quick glass of wine. The second party was much the same at first but, while I was there, more guests began arriving in a steady stream, and soon the house was full of milling, dancing, carousing people. I ran into some cherished friends that I hadn't seen for ages, and we embraced excitedly, complimenting each other on our dresses, and chattered non-stop above the blaring music. I was enjoying myself immensely, but I remembered my promise to be at my final destination well before midnight, so around eleven I said my goodbyes and once more headed out. It was snowing lightly, the streets were almost empty, and I felt romantically excited, without quite knowing why. In my new dress, with flawless nails, makeup and hair, my cute high heels, provocative lingerie and beautiful jewelry, I felt deliciously feminine, seductive and sexy. I had no idea what the rest of the night would bring, but I felt curiously expectant, as if something exciting and completely unforeseen was about to happen. I pulled up outside Rick and Julie's house at about 11:15, and could tell immediately that the party was in full swing. The street was lined with cars, the house brightly lit with Christmas lights that reflected prettily on the snow and rock music poured forth from an open window. Once inside the door, I was greeted with a blast of loud music, a glass of wine was thrust unsteadily into my hand, and Rick and Julie emerged from the crowd and took turns hugging me warmly. "Oh my God, Chris! You look breathtaking!" Julie enthused. "You too!" I exclaimed. She was definitely looking her best, in a long full-skirted dress and, wonder of wonders, heels. "I don't think I've ever seen you in heels before!" I marveled. "Hey, I wanted to see why you like them so much!" she rejoined, "But they're killing my feet!" Julie and Rick ran a pottery shop in town, and Julie's typical costume was track pants, a floppy work shirt and sneakers, her hands usually encrusted with raw clay. "You even did your nails!" I marveled. "Took me ages to scrape off the clay, but yeah!" She held out her hands for my inspection. I wrapped my arm around Rick's waist and squeezed him. "And how's my favorite guy doing?" I asked. He squeezed me back. "Careful!" he said, winking, "Julie might start to suspect something!" "The way she looks in that dress," Julie laughed, "I'd believe anything! You keep your hands off my guy!" I mingled with the other guests, most of whom were clutching glasses or bottles and moving about rather unsteadily. In the living room, a small group of people was dancing. I saw a friend at the edge of the crowd and went over to say hi. As we yelled at each other over the roar of the music, I glanced back toward where Julie were standing, and noticed her talking to a young, good-looking guy, with thick, wavy dark hair pulled back into a neat pony-tail, and a short, neatly trimmed beard. He was wearing faded jeans paired with a safari-style shirt, a combination I found charming. As I watched, they both turned to look in my direction, and I thought I saw him gesture toward me. I looked away hastily, but not before registering that he had remarkably beautiful deep, dark eyes. I continued chatting to my friend, and when I looked back again, Julie was talking to someone else. Curiously stirred in a way I couldn't quite define, I made my way back to her corner of the room and asked, "Who was they guy you were just talking to?" "You mean the one with those gorgeous eyes? That's Kevin. In fact, he was just asking me who you were!" she added conspiratorially. "Really? And what did you tell him?" "Well," she began, "I told him your name's Chris, that you're a close friend of ours..." "Uh-huh. Did you tell him... ALL about me?" I inquired. "Yeaaahhh..." she said slowly, "That was okay, I hope! You always said that I should..." "No, no!" I said quickly, "Of course that was okay. No false pretenses. We don't want to get his hopes up, now, do we?" "I bet you drew him in with that slinky dress of yours!" she responded, "But I should tell you, he still seemed interested even after I told him!" "Really," I said, "Interesting." The pace of my evening abruptly picked up. Rick gallantly asked me to dance, after which I danced with Julie, then some guy I'd never met asked me to dance as well. I danced one dance with him and thanked him, then, before I could decide what to do next, everyone started counting down the final seconds to the New Year. At zero, most of the throng launched into a rather incoherent rendition of Auld Lang Syne and for a few moments I was hemmed in by drunken revelers who insisted I link arms and sing along. Julie rushed over and we hugged and kissed, then Rick threw his arms rather sloppily around me and kissed me on the cheek. The singing over, I made my way to the living room couch. Although I don't consider myself a smoker, I do allow myself the occasional cigarette on special occasions, and on this "special occasion" I bummed one from Rick and gratefully sat down to relax, smoke, and sip my wine. As I sat, I discovered that it was impossible to keep at the slits in my dress from opening and revealing quite a lot of leg, and more than a glimpse of black lace. I tugged at it for a few moments, then gave up. Oh well, I thought idly, it's the price we pay for being sexy! I sat quietly for a time, then suddenly, the guy with the gorgeous eyes-Kevin I remembered his name was-materialized through the crowd and smiled down at me. "Mind if I join you?" he asked. "Of course not," I replied, "Have a seat!" He sat, still wearing a rather shy and endearing smile. "Kevin," he said, holding out his hand. "Christine," I replied, taking it. "I suppose Julie told you I'd been asking about you," he said after a moment, and I fancied he blushed slightly. "Yes, she did," I responded, smiling slyly at him, "And I believe she told you... ALL about me?" "Yeah," he said, "And I gotta tell you, I was amazed. When I first saw you, I thought you were the most beautiful woman in the room. I never would have guessed that you're... you know, not really female." "Thank you!" I said, feeling my cheeks flush a little. "Can I ask you, do you dress this way all the time?" "You mean, do I wear an evening gown and heels all the time?" I teased. "No no! I mean, do you dress as a woman all the time." "I know," I replied, "I was just teasing you." I went on to explain about my usual, day-to-day style, and how I usually keep dressing fully as a girl for special occasions. "Interesting," he mused, "Well, you certainly wear it well when you do!" He paused. "It must take a lot of guts, you know, to be so open about yourself in this society." "I suppose," I said after a moment's thought, "To be honest, I never really thought about it that way. I had a choice to make, and I made it. I could either live out my life the way I wanted, or I could hide my true self and live my life as someone that I'm not. When it came right down to it, it really wasn't much of a choice." I paused again. "You know, I often have this fear that some day, years from now (I hope!) I'll be lying on my deathbed, full of regret and saying to myself, 'Oh, if only I'd done it differently!' And I don't ever want to have those regrets, know what I mean? So the thing is, I want to do it differently now, not later. And that's what I've done, and I've never looked back. It's the best thing I've ever done, really. And to be honest, I haven't had too tough a time of it, really. My friends are all loving and supportive, and I've never really had anything really unpleasant happen to me." Following this long and rather disjointed speech, he sat silently for a moment, his brow knitted in thought. "Wow!" he exclaimed suddenly, "Well, I still think it's courageous, and I really admire you for being so honest, and so brave!" "Like I said, bravery really didn't have much to do with it, but honesty certainly did. I just couldn't see living a lie." We sat again in silence for a few minutes. It was hard work, conversing over the noise. Then he leaned closer and said softly into my ear, "Just so you know, I still think you're the most beautiful woman in the room." This time I felt myself blush deeply. My heart speeded up, my chest seemed tight, and I felt sudden stirrings where nothing had stirred for quite some time. As I gazed back at him, I unexpectedly found myself thinking that he looked even more attractive than I'd first thought. What's happening? I asked myself. I felt confused, and I wondered if perhaps I'd had more than enough wine. Unexpectedly feeling modest, I tugged the slit of my skirt closed. It promptly fell open again. The moment abruptly felt awkward, and I could think of nothing to say. Suddenly anxious, I felt my heart begin to race. As if sensing my confusion, he sought to defuse the atmosphere, and gestured to my glass. "Could I get you something? Some more wine perhaps?" "Please," I said holding my glass out for him to take. What am I doing? I thought. I've had enough already! What I needed was time to think. As he disappeared through the crowd, I was surprised-as if I needed any more surprises-to find myself admiring his slender but well toned physique beneath his jeans and shirt, the way he walked, even the curve of his ass in his jeans. What WAS happening?? Before I could fully collect myself, he was back, bearing two glasses of white wine. He offered one to me and I took it and sipped gratefully. He smiled at me with what seemed genuine warmth, and I felt yet another pang of... something... rocket through me. Thankfully, he turned the conversation to more trivial subjects: the party, the friends we had in common, Rick and Julie and their recent attempts to get pregnant, the coming year, my fledgling business as a graphic designer, his work as an environmental consultant. As we discussed such reassuringly bland topics, I felt myself relax, and began to enjoy myself, and his company. I refused to let my mind wander back to the confusion I'd felt earlier. Then, after a lull in our conversation, Kevin stood abruptly, held out his hand, and politely asked if I wanted to dance. In a split-second my heart was once again running at warp speed, and I felt faint. Without exactly deciding to, I found myself taking his hand and he led me onto the dance floor. How could I ignore the spark I felt as we touched? Why was my heart beating so? I mean, Kevin wasn't the first guy to be so attentive and friendly toward me, and he certainly wasn't the first guy to shower me with compliments, right? But his compliments seemed genuine and from the heart, not the shallow praise of someone trying to pick up a girl who didn't want to be picked up. Was that it? The first couple of dances were fast, and we whirled and gyrated in the limited space available. He watched me as I moved, smiling. But the next tune was a slow, romantic number. I looked uncertainly at him, and he held out his arms. As if in a dream, I moved into his embrace, and slid my arms around his waist. At the feel of his warm body next to mine, my mind went into a dizzying swirl of colliding thoughts and sensations. There could be no doubt about it: as we held each other and swayed in time to the music, I felt unmistakable, telltale stirrings between my legs, and through my deepening confusion I wished heartily that I'd worn something a little more confining that just panties. We danced, and when the song ended, we sat together on the couch again. Okay, I said to myself, okay, you're attracted to this guy. That's not so strange, is it? Isn't that part of what being feminine is all about? He's really sweet and friendly, intelligent, great to talk to... Isn't that the sort of person you're attracted to anyway? And he is really cute! Just calm down, I thought, firmly. Go with the flow... "Would you like to go for a walk? Get some fresh air?" he asked. I felt a surge of near-panic. What would he do once we were alone? What would I do? I found myself nodding. We donned our coats, I slipped off my high-heels and into my boots, and then we were on the street. I was quiet, not sure what to say or how to act. He kept a discreet distance between us, and didn't try to take my hand. No doubt sensing my nervousness, he began talking casually, asking my opinion on movies we'd both seen, inquiring more about my work, my life, and generally showing an interest in me as a person. I quickly shed my nervousness and warmed to him. As I relaxed, I talked more, and soon we were conversing like old friends. A few blocks away, he stopped and asked, "Do you want to head back now? It's pretty damn cold out here!" I showed him the goose bumps on my arms and said yes. Then he turned to me. "You know, Christine," he began softly, gazing deeply into my eyes, "Midnight on New Years Eve is when you're supposed to kiss someone you like. But when midnight rolled around this time, I wasn't with anyone I wanted to kiss." He gently took my chin and raised it to him, "But I am now." My heartbeat tripled in an instant. Did I want him to kiss me? I wondered frantically. I looked into his deep, dark eyes and surrendered. God, yes! I thought. It seemed like my heart was about to burst, and I felt as if I might cry. I closed my eyes and offered my lips. The kiss was brief, but warm, and tender, Tingles shot all through my body. In that brief moment I learned everything I wanted to know about his lips. They were warm, dry rather than moist, and not too soft, just right. I could feel his beard tickling my face, and the gentle touch of his hand on my cheek. His smile afterward was achingly beautiful, and to my intense surprise, did actually burst into tears. He put his arms around me and held me while I sobbed into his shoulder. My tears were brief, and in a few moments I'd regained at least some of my composure. "God!" I choked, wiping my eyes, "I have no idea where that came from!" "Are you okay?" he asked, concern in his voice. "Absolutely," I said, and smiled, "I'm so sorry. You must think I'm pretty silly... But, well... I just suddenly felt so emotional." I gave him a rather tremulous smile. "Of course I don't think you're silly," he replied, stroking my hair, "But I was afraid that I'd been a little too forward." "No, that's not it at all. It was... it was wonderful. I just..." I didn't know how to finish. How could I sum up my feelings of the last hour in a few words? We held each other for a few more seconds, and this time, as we started to walk back to the party, he took my hand. As we strolled, I found it hard to take my eyes off him. I studied the curve of his cheek as the lights from the street lamps overhead cast fleeting shadows over us, the set of his jaw, his deep-set, melting eyes. God, he was gorgeous! From the side, I thought, he bore a fleeting resemblance to Brad Pitt, but from the front all such similarity disappeared. We returned to the mayhem at Rick and Julie's house, and I excused myself and hastened to the washroom. Discovering it occupied, I waited impatiently for a while, then when it was free again I dashed inside to check my makeup. As I'd suspected, my mascara and lipstick were smudged, and I cleaned it up with a dampened tissue. Then, using the makeup I'd brought with me, I made some speedy repairs. I returned to the party and as Kevin and I sat together on the couch I discovered that my nervousness had disappeared. I even found myself wishing that he would put his arm around me but, discreetly, he didn't. I had an impulse to snuggle against him, but I was acutely aware of the stares and knowing smiles that might arouse from the other guests. We spent the rest of the party together. We danced, talked some more, and mingled. I found myself not wanting it to end, but at last, when 4 AM had come and gone, he asked, "How are you getting home? Can I walk you?" "I have my car," I explained, "And my place is a bit far to walk, but thank you." "Can I follow you home, then? I just want to make sure you get there okay. I promise I'm not going to try and 'take advantage of you' or anything," he concluded, smiling. "You already have!" I scolded, and pushed him playfully, "And besides, I'm okay to drive. My last glass of wine was hours ago. But if you want to follow me home, I'd like that." We drove toward my place, and as I gazed at the headlights of his car in my rear-view mirror, I reflected over and over on what it was like to kiss him. I'd liked it, a lot, no doubt about that. I could recall every nuance, every sensation, and, I admitted to myself, I yearned to feel it again. I recalled the strange feeling I'd had earlier that night, that something exciting and strange was about to happen. How true that turned out to be! I pulled into the tiny parking lot beside my apartment, and Kevin pulled in next to me. He joined me, and together we walked to my front door. Once again, I felt nervous and uncertain. How familiar that feeling was becoming tonight! Would he expect me to invite him up? Did I want that? There was no denying that part of me wanted to. Would that be too much all at once? What should I do? He faced me and took my hands in his. "I can't tell you what a great evening I've had with you," he said, "I almost didn't go to that party. I was alone and hardly knew anybody. I'm not a big party person, and it all just sounded pretty boring. But right now, I'm thanking my lucky stars that I did go!" I stepped into his embrace and raised my face to his. This kiss was longer, and more passionate than the first. I felt myself melt. At that moment, he could have asked anything of me, and I would have blissfully complied. But as we parted, he smiled and touched my cheek. "I should go," he said, "I think we've both had quite an evening! Can I call you later? Not too early, promise!" "Of course you can!" I smiled, "I'd be devastated if you didn't!" I gave him my phone number, and watched as he climbed into his car and drove away into the darkness. As I undressed and removed my makeup, I found it difficult to concentrate on the whirlwind of events that had transpired. Already I was so excited at the mere thought of his impending phone call tomorrow that I could hardly sit still at my dresser and daub makeup remover on my eyelids. I slipped into my prettiest, most feminine nightgown, climbed into bed and turned off the light. Kevin, Kevin, Kevin! His name echoed in the darkness. I realized that I was hard. I reached for some baby oil from my nightstand and, after spreading some on my hand, brought myself to orgasm, thinking about his kiss. I slept late the next day. Around two in the afternoon, the phone rang; it was Kevin. "How are you?" he asked, "Not too hung over, I hope?" "No, not at all," I replied, yawning, "But I am still lying in bed!" "I just got up myself. Have you looked outside yet?" I glanced through the window. It was snowing heavily, and I could barely see across the street. "Whoa!" I exclaimed, "We're getting buried!" "Yeah, my street is totally blocked. But would you mind if I walked over for a visit?" "No, that would be great!" "See you soon!" He hung up. I showered quickly, slipped into a bra and panties, black leggings and a long sweater, and put on some makeup. It took ages for him to arrive, or maybe it just seemed like ages to me, excited as I was. But eventually he did show up, covered in snow. "Man!" he exclaimed, shaking off a shower of flakes on my doorstep, "I could have gotten lost in the wilderness! You'd have to send out a search party, with a Saint Bernard and a flask of brandy!" "But then I could nurse you back to health," I giggled, "Florence Nightingale, that's me!" "In that case, I'd want to stay in bed and have you nurse me forever!" he declared, then went on, "But, since I am here, safe and sound, what else would you like to do today?" A delightful activity for the two of us immediately popped into my head, but I thought it might be a bit too forward to mention it just then. "I don't know," I said after a moment, "We sure can't go too far from home right now, can we?" We put on some music, made some coffee and sat at the kitchen table playing Backgammon. I was tempted to request strip-Backgammon, but prudence kept me silent. We played a two-handed round of Trivial Pursuit, in which I soundly trounced his sorry ass (I have a mind like a steel trap for trivia!), then we decided to make our way downtown through the snow and find a restaurant that was open. I pulled a skirt on over my leggings, traded my sweater for a pretty low-cut long sleeved tee, and put in a favorite pair of silver dangly earrings. Then I climbed into my warmest winter coat and boots, and we headed out. We wandered around for a while; it was pleasant walking, despite the thick blanket of snow on the sidewalks. The temperature had risen to near freezing, and the snow had eased somewhat. It fell prettily through the cones of light from the street lamps, and covered our hair and shoulders. A surprising number of restaurants were closed, no doubt due to a combination of the weather and the fact that it was New Years day. We ended up at a popular burger-and- fries joint, and had an unexpectedly good meal, accompanied by mugs of locally brewed draft beer. Afterward, we decided to go for a walk before heading back to my apartment. The snow had almost stopped, and the streets, trees, and parked cars sparkled beneath their white blankets, reflecting the Christmas lights that still festooned the downtown storefronts and lampposts. He took my hand for a while as we walked, then when we got too cold I put my arm through his and we held hands cozily within his jacket pocket. It felt delightfully romantic. Standing again outside my apartment door, I was once more assailed by uncertainty. Would he want to come up? What then, if he did? I decided to take the plunge. "Want to come up for a while?" I asked. "Sure," he answered immediately. Once in my apartment, we gratefully shed our sodden winter coats and sat together on the couch. He put his arm around me, and I snuggled against him. We sat in comfortable silence for a while, relaxing into the moment. Then our eyes met, and he bent toward me. Our lips met tenderly. Without any conscious thought, I opened my mouth, and in a moment I felt our tongues meet. I pressed harder against him, and his arms tightened around me. I felt myself melt. We kissed for some time. At last we pulled reluctantly apart, and Kevin said, "I should probably go..." I felt a pang of regret. "Are you sure?" I asked. "Honey," he began, "I'd love to stay longer, maybe even stay the night, I really would; it's very tempting. But I don't want to rush anything. I know this is new for you, and I'd rather we take our time. I really like you a lot, and I wouldn't want anything to happen that might harm our friendship by moving too fast. I want to get to know you a lot better, and I want to be with you, not just tonight, but many nights. I have a feeling there will be plenty of time for... other things," he concluded, smiling down at me. I hugged him tight, and felt his answering squeeze. "I understand," I said, "And thanks. If it was up to me, I'd be ready to throw caution to the winds, but perhaps you're right. I like you a lot too. I'd hate to ruin things by being my usual impulsive self!" I walked him to the door and we kissed passionately, our bodies pressed together. Then I watched him trudge out of sight through the snow, and closed the door. The following day dawned gloriously bright. The temperature had continued to rise, and streams of water were pouring from the rooftops and flowing down the gutters of the street. I had work to catch up on, so I spent a good part of the day working on several projects, bent over my computer, talking on the phone to my clients, and sketching ideas by hand on my digitizing pad. Around five o'clock, Kevin called. He informed me that he'd just been called away to a nearby city, to assist in performing an environmental assessment of a toxic spill that had happened over the New Years holiday. "I'm free for dinner, but I'm going to have to leave right after," he said, "Can you come over?" "Try and stop me!" I replied, grinning into the receiver. I dashed into the bathroom and took a hasty shower, making sure that my legs and underarms were stubble-free, and washed my hair. I blow-dried it and fluffed it into a cascade of curls that framed my face, holding it in place with a pair of small, sparkly barrettes. Then I donned bra, panties and pantyhose, and scouted out my closet. I settled on a slim, mid-calf length black skirt and a low-cut lace trimmed white blouse. After a quick makeup job, I clipped my charm bracelet around my right wrist and put in a pair of large silver hoop earrings. I looked in the mirror, dissatisfied. I traded the blouse for a tight stretch-knit ribbed burgundy top that molded to my breasts. It had a rather deep V-neck, which I thought looked appropriately sexy. Then I put on my winter coat and high-heeled boots and, as an afterthought, a cute floppy-brimmed cloth hat. Then I headed over to his place. It was a little farther than I expected, and my feet were hurting by the time I arrived. We hugged and kissed at the door, then I gratefully removed my boots. With a chuckle, Kevin provided me with a pair of his slippers, which were way too big for my feet. I figured I probably looked pretty silly. His apartment was gorgeous. He rented the upper two floors of a big house in the older section of town. The lower of the two was a large, airy, "open concept" space with tall windows, a modern eat-in kitchen, and big, comfy-looking furniture. In one corner stood a large TV and stereo, in another, an intricate wrought-iron abstract sculpture that looked to me rather like a big mechanical stork. A small office adjoined the living area, partitioned by a bead curtain. He led me into the bathroom and I gasped in amazement. It was a gorgeous, cedar-trimmed space with elegant fixtures and a glass-enclosed shower stall in one corner. In the other corner, a set of broad carpeted steps led to a raised level in which was sunk a whirlpool tub, easily big enough for two. The tub area was enclosed on two sides by solarium-style floor to ceiling windows. Blinds could be drawn for privacy, and immediately outside the windows were the clustered branches of two large oak trees. "See?" he said, I can sit in the tub with a glass of wine, with some candles lit, and watch the world go by, and usually nobody can see in, because of the trees!" "Except them," I pointed to a nearby window, clearly visible through the winter-naked branches. "Hey, if they wanna peep, let 'em!" he grinned. He led me upstairs to the bedroom. It occupied the almost entire top floor, with skylights in the sloping ceilings and large windows at each end. It was spacious, with a queen sized bed in the center, set at an odd angle to the walls. "Feng Shui," he explained, as I looked at him quizzically. Along the low headboard of the bed were about a dozen toy penguins of different sizes, small plastic ones, big stuffed ones, even a windup penguin that did a weird, frenzied little dance. "Penguins?" I asked. He grinned. "It all started at work a couple of years ago, when I somehow found myself becoming the Linux guru in the office. Nobody else wanted to do it, so I did. When they held a birthday party for me that year, they gave me a stuffed penguin. It's the logo for RedHat Linux, you see, a penguin. Ever since then, I kept getting all kinds of penguin gifts, penguin t-shirts, penguin mouse pads, penguin toys, everything penguin. They've sort of become my mascots." I grinned back, "Why Kevin, that's so cute!" A small ensuite bathroom occupied one corner of the room, and arrayed along the bedroom walls were a beautiful antique armoire, chest of drawers, and several bookcases and shelf units; clearly, Kevin did a lot of shopping at Ikea. He lay down on his back on the bed and bade me join him. "See?" he said, pointing upwards. There was a skylight directly over the bed. "I can lie here at night and watch the stars. Cool, huh?" We lay on the bed in silence for a while, our flanks just touching, then he raised himself up on one elbow. "Dinner?" he inquired. Lying together on the bed had given me ideas, and I had my own thoughts about what I wanted for dinner, but remembering our conversation the night before I kept my peace, so I simply smiled and nodded. Kevin prepared a delicious light meal of fresh rainbow trout fillets and Caesar salad. Afterward, we sat on the couch and sipped wine, his arm around my shoulders. "May I say you look lovely this evening?" he said, then continued, his eyes twinkling, "The big floppy slippers really pull your look together!" "Thank you!" I responded, and squeezed him, "I feel like Krusty the Clown, with these giant feet!" He glanced at his watch. "God!" he exclaimed, then sighed, "I've got to go, honey." "I know," I said softly. "I don't want to." "I know," I repeated, "I don't want you to." Upstairs again, I sat quietly on his bed and watched while he packed a few things into an overnight bag. The lovely meal he'd prepared sat heavily in my stomach. I really didn't want him to go. "When will you be back, do you think?" I asked. "Two days, I'm hoping," he replied, "I think I can just do the field work and then skip out on all the boring meetings afterward. It's going to be a busy couple of days, though." We climbed into his car, drove through the nearly deserted streets, and pulled to a stop in front of my apartment. Suddenly overcome with a wave of sadness at his departure, I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him tight. He stroked my hair and held me. "See you soon!" he said softly. Then we kissed, and I stood on the sidewalk as he drove away. He was gone four days. We kept in touch by phone, but by the time he returned to his hotel room it was usually ten o'clock or later, and he was so exhausted he could barely speak. We whispered our affection and spoke of how much we missed each other, and talked of being together again once he returned. Thankfully, I had much to keep me occupied, and during the day, I kept myself busy with my business, which was starting to accumulate more jobs. Then on the morning of the fifth day he called me excitedly from his cell phone. "I'm on my way!" he exclaimed, "I'll be there in about twenty minutes!" He came straight to my place, not even stopping at his apartment first. When he arrived at my door, exhausted but smiling, I rushed into his arms. He held me tight, kissed my lips, neck, hair, eyelids, the tip of my nose, and whispered how much he'd missed me, and how he'd thought of me almost constantly. He asked if he could use my shower, and while he splashed and soaped himself I ran into the bedroom to make myself pretty. I slipped on a bra and tight skimpy tank top, and freshened my makeup. I turned and examined my ass in the mirror, and decided that the tight jeans I was wearing were satisfactory. Then I donned some high heels and some silver hoop earrings. He emerged from the shower, discreetly wrapped in a towel, and asked if he could borrow a robe. The only robes I possessed were more than a little feminine, but I offered him the plainest one I had, a short blue silk dressing gown with Japanese embroidery. He put it on. "My!" I remarked, smoothing the fabric on his shoulders and chest, "Don't we look pretty!" He smiled bashfully. "Ahhh. Not as pretty as you!" I fixed him some lunch, and we sat together on the couch and ate. He told me all about his work over the last few days, the pressures of the job, the horrific mess that was the spill site, and the boredom of sitting alone in his hotel room, watching TV until he had unwound enough to fall sleep. "Now if you had been there with me...!" he said. "I could have lifted your boredom!" I said, stroking his chest, "And while you were working, I could have shopped for pretty dresses and lingerie!" "Well, next time, you're coming with me!" he declared. After lunch, we lay together on my bed. "Hey, I have an idea," he said, "First, I really need to get a little sleep... Can I just nap here for a few hours? Then, I want to take you out. Let's have a real date! We can both get dressed up, and find a really nice restaurant, and maybe take in a movie. You know, a real date-type date!" "That sounds wonderful!" I replied, already wondering what to wear, "and of course you can sleep here!" Any time you like! I thought silently. We lay together for a time, and presently I heard his breathing become regular. "Kevin?" I said softly. No reply. I got up and pulled the blinds down, darkening the room. Then I put on a light winter coat and boots. The January thaw was well upon us, and the sidewalks were bare, the snow banks shrinking rapidly. The sun was shining, the air moist and fresh. I walked downtown and began perusing the shops, on the hunt for a special new dress to wear for the coming evening, and although money was still pretty tight, I felt in the mood for a well-controlled splurge. My first stop was Wildflowers, a favorite vintage clothing/consignment shop owned by Lisa, a close friend. And there, in the window, was THE dress! A sleeveless, slinky black cocktail dress with a slightly flared skirt, short but not quite mini, with a plunging neckline, front and back. "Lisa," I said as I marched, inside, "I need that dress in the window!" "I'm fine, thanks, how are you?" she chided, then continued, grinning, "I was betting myself that you'd be the one to spot that dress first! I just put it out about an hour ago!" She retrieved it from the window and handed it to me. "In fact, I thought of you as soon as I got it in. It's your size, and I bet it would look dynamite on you! I was kind of hoping it would catch your eye." I retreated to a change room and slipped into it. "My God!" said Lisa when I emerged, "Chris! You look so slim!" "My kind of dress," I rejoined, laughing. I turned around and surveyed the back of the dress in the mirror, noticing that my bra back and straps were clearly visible. "I won't be able to wear a bra with this," I said doubtfully, eyeing the deeply scooped back, "What can I do?" Lisa thought a moment. "Wait a sec," she said, "I've got an idea." She rummaged about in a pile of lingerie; finally she said, "Here! Try this!" and handed me a gorgeous black bustier. It was an authentic vintage item from the forties, when they really knew how to make lingerie. Waist length and severely boned, it had see-through lace panels, and firm, lace trimmed padded cups and wide, lacy waistband. Also, it had a deeply scooped back. I grabbed it excitedly. "Lisa!" I exclaimed, "It's gorgeous!" I dashed into the change room, stripped off the dress and my bra, and fastened the bustier behind me. It fit beautifully, nipping in my waist and giving me a classic "hour-glass" figure, the cups exactly the right size. I looked at myself in the mirror and shivered with excitement. I felt seductive, sexy. I slipped the dress on and went out to show Lisa. Checking the back in the mirror, I exclaimed, "This is perfect! It doesn't show at all! I'll take them both!" I changed back into my own clothes, and while she and I were finishing the sale, Lisa said, "So, what's the occasion? Got a hot date?" "The hottest!" I grinned. "Oooohhh!" she replied, "Well, good luck!" "Thanks!" I said. I popped next door to my favorite jewelry store, a place called Andalou. It was owned by Bruhia, young, talented silversmith who was originally from Afghanistan. She had escaped during the Soviet occupation, and had opened the store hoping to make enough money to get the rest of her family out. Her stunningly original, one-of-a-kind designs had won awards, and had attracted the attention of discerning jewelry lovers with far more money than me. Her business had flourished, and she was not only able to free her family, but provide them with a comfortable life in their newly adopted country as well. She and I shared a love of beautiful silver jewelry, and had become good friends since we met several years ago. She came out from behind the counter to hug me. "Chris! So nice to see you! How was your Christmas?" We chatted for several minutes. Bruhia's six year-old, Farrah, heard my voice and ran around the counter as well. "Chris! Chris!" she squeaked, holding up her arms. "Hello, sweetheart!" I exclaimed, picking her up; she threw her arms around my neck. I bounced her in my arms while Bruhia continued to chat. Then I said, "Bruhia, I need something dramatic!" Still balancing Farrah on my hip, I accompanied Bruhia as we strolled around the display cases and she pointed out items that she thought I might like. A stunning bracelet caught my eye. She took it out and handed it to me. It was a wide, smooth silver cuff, hammered and polished to a gleaming finish, with an intricate design around its edges. It's fluid, abstract shape seemed to meld with my arm as I tried it on. "Oh, Bruhia!" I said, breathless, "It's magnificent! But," I continued, removing the bracelet and looking at the price tag, "Gosh, I just love it, but I really can't afford it." I handed it back regretfully. She refused to take it. "Chris," She said, patting my arm, "If you like it, take it. You can pay me when you can, in installments if you want. I would much rather it go to someone who really loves it than to someone else who buys it simply because they have the money!" I hugged her. "Oh thank you! Thank you so much! I'll leave you a deposit now..." "No, no," she protested, "Come over for coffee some time; we'll talk about it then. For now, just take and enjoy!" I hugged her again, then hurried home with my new treasures. Kevin was still asleep. I tiptoed into the bedroom and hung the dress in the closet, and put my new bustier in my lingerie drawer, the bracelet in my jewelry box. I busied myself in the kitchen for a while, then Kevin emerged from the bedroom, wearing my dressing gown and rubbing his eyes. "Wow! Did I ever sleep," he yawned. He came over and put his arms around me. "Are you ready for our date?" "You know it!" "I have to go back to my place to put my junk away and change. Back in an hour?" "Fine!" I said. When he'd gone, I took a quick shower and washed and dried my hair. I wound my hair into a French twist, holding it in place with an ornate silver barrette. Then I dressed in my black garter belt, sheer black stockings, panties, and fastened my lovely new bustier around my torso. I sat at my dresser and did my nails a rich, velvety brownish-red shade, and when they were dry, applied foundation, a wisp of blush, and executed dark smoky eyes. Then I smoothed on lipstick that matched my nails. I chose some pretty dangly earrings (Bruhia's design), and finally, my beautiful new bracelet. Last, I slid on my new dress and zipped it up. To check the whole look, I slipped on my best tall black leather high heeled boots, and I looked in the mirror and thought, 'My God, I sure look hot!' I pondered for a few minutes. What's up here? I wondered. I'm wearing my prettiest, sexiest lingerie, I just spent more than I can afford on one hell of a sexy dress, a dynamite bustier, and a one-of-a-kind bracelet. Just what did I think was going to happen tonight? My mind raced. I discovered that I was avoiding focusing on the possibilities of the evening, trying not to build any expectations. I just wanted the evening to unfold as it would, and just "go with the flow," I told myself. Kevin returned just as I was finishing up. He was wearing dress pants, an open necked shirt and sports jacket, looking utterly gorgeous. "Ready?" he asked. For some reason, my heart flew to my mouth at the question. I swallowed hard. "Ready," I echoed, giving him a somewhat nervous smile. He took me to our town's best-kept secret, a tiny, intimate little bistro hidden away on a side street near downtown that served ambrosial dishes, and even better desserts. Locals often referred to it as "the restaurant with no name", although it did have one, really. A better description would have been "the restaurant with no sign." We sat at a quiet, out of the way table, and sipped our drinks and chatted. We were one of the first arrivals, but soon the other tables began to fill. I glanced up and saw my friends, Josh and Eleanor, walk in. Eleanor rushed over and I jumped up to accept her embrace. "Hey! How's it going?" she exclaimed, "We haven't seen you since Mike's party!" "Yeah," I replied, "I've been pretty busy, trying to get the business going. Folks," I continued, "I want you to meet my friend, Kevin." Kevin shook hands with them, and we chatted for a few minutes together. I leaned over to Eleanor, cupped my hand over my mouth and said in a loud stage whisper, "We're on a hot date!" "Mmmmmmm!" she purred back, grinning, "Well, don't let us interrupt anything!" They soon departed to their own table, and a few minutes later our food arrived. The meal was heavenly. We talked, giggled to ourselves, and held hands across the table. Then, nearly stuffed, we decided to share one of the restaurant's famous desserts. We finished our wine and left, waving to Josh and Eleanor as we walked out into the night. Kevin slipped his arm around my shoulders and I snuggled against him as we walked back to the car. I sensed nervousness rising in me again and I forced myself to calm down. But I couldn't keep my mind from flitting ahead. What's going to happen? What do you want to happen? I asked myself. I had to admit that I had dressed as if Kevin was going to be seeing something more than just my dress tonight. Why else would I wear my garter belt and stockings? He opened my car door for me, then turned and said, "I'm hoping you'll come over to my place for a while." "Okay," I replied, feeling my heart race. We parked in his spot, then mounted the stairs to his front door. With each step I could feel my nervousness, now mingled with excitement, increase. My breathing felt tight, my pulse quickened and, try I might to control it, I felt my penis, tucked firmly between my legs, began to stir. Once inside, he took my coat and as I sat on the couch, he poured us each a glass of wine. I accepted mine gratefully and took a big swig. Kevin sat beside me and put his arm around my shoulders. "Are you okay?" he asked. "Yes," I said, then paused. "I guess I'm a tiny bit nervous," I confessed. "There's no need to be, you know." he said gently, and stroked my cheek. I relaxed against him, and presently he took my wineglass from my hand, and turned toward me. We kissed passionately for a while, his hands stroking me all over, my back, my face, my hair, my sides, my thighs, my breasts and my stomach. Without really planning to, I found myself unbuttoning his shirt so that I could stroke his naked chest. He kissed me up and down my neck, my throat, my chest, while I did the same to him, teasing his nipples with my tongue. The room was utterly silent, and blood rushed in my ears. Our kissing intensified, and I heard myself moan with pleasure. At last, he stood up and extended his hand to me. I took it, and he led me up the narrow stairs to the bedroom. My heart pounded, with excitement as well as anxiety. As I climbed the steps I thought, my God! I'm about to have sex with a man! What do I do? What will he do? What will he expect? Will he like it? Will I like it? The pressure against my panties seemed to answer at least the last question. We stood next to the bed. He smiled warmly at me and I answered with a rather tremulous smile of my own. He lay me down on my back, and climbed partially on top of me. We kissed. The pressure against my panties increased, and I found myself thinking, thank God for reinforced crotches! Otherwise I might tear a hole in them! This thought struck me as funny, and I giggled. I tried to regain my composure, but I couldn't. My giggles became louder, then turned into laughter. "What is it?" he asked, looking at my quizzically. Between giggles, I tried to explain, "I just suddenly thought, thank God for panties with reinforced crotches, or I might be ripping a hole in mine!" He started to chuckle as well, and in seconds we were both helpless with laughter. We held each other and fell back on the bed, hooting and giggling. When at last our chuckles quieted, I realized that my nervousness had all but disappeared, but my excitement remained. I leaned over and kissed him. "Well," he said, "Maybe we should do something to relieve the pressure on those panties of yours!" He reached behind me and unzipped my dress. I squirmed out of it and lay back. He stared at me in open admiration as I lay there in my prettiest lingerie. "God, you're beautiful!" he whispered. Back when I bought my first garter belt, the saleswoman who sold it to me said, "Now, dear, always remember to wear your panties OVER the garters. You never know when you might want to remove them quickly!" I was glad now that I had followed her advice. Kevin tugged them down and I raised my bum to assist. He pulled them down my legs, past my feet, and tossed them away. I hardened instantly. He reached down and began to stroke me slowly. My heart thundered as I pushed his shirt from his shoulders and he tossed it away. Then I undid his pants, and pushed them down. He kicked them away as well. His stroking intensified and with each movement, and a surge of pleasure swept through me. We kissed again and again. Then, as I lay back on the bed, he began kissing down my neck and throat, and caressing my torso through my bustier. He kissed and tongued my belly button, then circled my pubic area, and kissed the insides of my thighs. Then I felt his warm lips on the tip of my shaft, and felt myself tremble in response. He kissed it again, and then suddenly his lips engulfed me, and he began milking me slowly with his mouth and tongue. Every cell in my body felt intensely sensitive, as if it didn't want to miss a single sensation. I felt my earrings tickle my neck, the tight embrace of my bustier, the pull of my garters against my stockings, the feel of his fingertips as they played over my body, and the touch of his delicious lips and tongue as they explored every square inch of my hardness. My hands were entwined in his hair. I undid his ponytail and his hair fell free. I arched my back, moaning. Just as my passion was beginning to climb and soar, he stopped, and crawled up beside me. We kissed again, our hands frantic on each other's bodies. I reached down and took his own hardness in my hand, thrilling to the feel of it against my palm. My first penis! I thought excitedly. I wanted to do the same to him as he had just done to me. I began kissing all over his neck, throat and chest, teasing and tickling his nipples, tonguing he belly button, and kissing all around his pubic bush. Then, with a sense of crossing some sort of threshold into a new and delicious phase in my life, I took him in my mouth. I first took just the tip, swirling my tongue around it, while my hand pumped the base of his shaft. I thought to myself, I'm sucking my first cock! And it's wonderful! Gradually, I went deeper and deeper, my tongue eagerly exploring this new and wonderful sensation. It felt so sensual, so intimate! I could taste his pre-cum, and licked it up. Presently, I felt him stir and move himself around, and in a few seconds I could feel his lips and tongue once again seeking my own stiffness. Wow, I thought, we're 69'ing! The sensations were almost too much, his wonderful cock in my mouth, his wonderful mouth on my cock. I felt myself lose all control. I became a wanton, sexual creature, giving myself over to complete abandonment. All that seemed important at that moment were his pleasure, and mine. He moved himself away from me and sat up. He gently guided me so that I lay flat on my back with my head on his pillow. Then he once again kissed down my body and began to suck. Wave after wave of exquisite bliss washed over me, and I felt myself getting close. I wove my fingers through is hair, my head back, eyes closed. I felt myself tense, my back arched, and the final crest of climactic ecstasy reared up and crashed upon me in a liquid explosion of light. I racked again and again, my whole body shuddering with each surge. I cried out. "Oh my God! Oh my God!" It went on and on, as Kevin continued to suck passionately. After what seemed like ages, I at last quieted, and felt my body melt into deep contentment. I gazed down at him rapturously, as he gently licked me clean. "Oh Kevin!" I sighed. He crawled up beside me and took me in his arms. I could have lain that way forever, but I was aware of unfinished business. After relaxing against his body for a few minutes, I once again began kissing all down his body. I licked and tongued his nipples and belly button, then made my way down. I kissed all along the inside of his thighs, then I took each of his balls in my mouth and sucked them, swirling my tongue across them in turn. He lay back and began to moan. I licked up his shaft and kissed the tip. He was so hard! I began sucking and licking the tip as he had done to me, then gradually moved lower and lower, until I had as much in my mouth as I could manage. I started milking him with my lips and tongue, thrilling to his every twitch and shudder, as his moaning became louder. I lost myself in the moment and, incredibly, felt myself hardening again. With one hand I began stroking the base of his rigid member, while with the other hand I reached up and teased and caressed his nipples, his chest, his stomach. I began varying my stroke, shallow, then deep, shallow, then deep. He began to intersperse his moans with whispered words like, "Oh God that feels so good!" and, "Oh sweetheart, that's incredible!" As I continued to suck, his responses intensified, his body squirming and writhing under my touch. Presently he raised his head and said, "Honey, I'm going to come!" I realized that, as this was my first time, he wasn't sure if I was ready to accept his seed in my mouth. I nodded without removing my lips from him, and pumped even harder. Suddenly, I felt the first surge of his juice strike the back of my throat. Its force startled me, and I felt my gag reflex respond. But by the time he surged again, I had moved my tongue to catch it, and I continued to milk him energetically. He groaned loudly with each thrust, his head back, fingers entwined in my hair. His body arched, his legs and arms stiffened. At last his hands gently urged me to stop moving, and his body gradually relaxed. I lay for a time with him still in my mouth, reluctant to bring this magical moment to an end. Then I gently licked up the errant drops of his issue, and lay with my chin on his thigh, staring up at him blissfully, my hand still wrapped around his shaft. He gazed back down at me, eyes half closed, an expression of utter contentment on his face. We were silent for a while, drowsing, then he beckoned me with his arms and I crawled up beside him. He wrapped me in his arms, then said, "How was that for you, honey?" "Mmmmmmmmm! It was bliss," I replied dreamily. He said nothing, but held me close. Later, we did it all again. The following morning, I woke up and drowsily surveyed my surroundings in the dim light. In a moment, I realized that I was in Kevin's bed, and in a rush I remembered the events of the previous evening. I lay motionless for a while, reliving every nuance, every touch of his hands and lips, the breathtaking sensations as he sucked me, the exquisite bliss of taking his cock in my mouth for the first time. I smiled lazily. Life was good. Presently, Kevin awoke as well. He rolled over and gazed dreamily into my eyes, a sleepy smile on his face. "Morning, lover!" he said. I felt my heart skip a beat at the word "lover". What an exciting word! I thought, and that's what we are, lovers! "Hi!" I smiled. We snuggled under the covers for a while. I was still wearing my lingerie and jewelry, and I suddenly wondered uneasily what my makeup and hair must look like. But however I did look, Kevin didn't seem to mind. We cuddled, and then he said, "Hey, wanna take a shower together?" I nodded eagerly. As I removed my bustier, garter belt and stockings and put my jewelry on his nightstand, I realized that in all this time, Kevin had never seen me completely naked, and I wondered what he would think when he at last viewed my skinny male body, un-adorned by lingerie. But if he thought anything at all, he didn't show it. I joined him in the bathroom and stood naked beside him as he adjusted the water flow. A glance in the mirror revealed that my makeup had indeed become somewhat smudged overnight. He stepped in and I stepped in beside him. We stood together under the torrent for a moment, our hands on each other's hips. I washed the makeup off my face and wet my hair, while Kevin soaped himself all over. Then he soaped me, and for a while we stood in each other's arms and slid our smooth, slippery bodies sensuously against one another. We ground our hips together and I felt myself stiffen. Moments later I felt the nudge of Kevin's member against my belly. He soaped up his hand, and I did the same. Then we began stroking each other, kissing and rubbing our bodies together, while clouds of steam rose around us. Then we stood and held each other tight as our come mingled together at our feet, and flowed down the drain. We had breakfast together, then while Kevin sat in his home office and caught up on some work, I walked home to change. I hung up my dress, dumped my lingerie into the laundry, and added my new bracelet to my jewelry box. Then, overcome with fatigue, I lay naked on my bed under my duvet. I fell asleep, thinking about the night before. After I awoke, I dressed in my cutest pair of jeans and a pretty black long sleeved top with lace-trimmed neckline and cuffs. I did my makeup, pulled my hair into a ponytail with a large silver barrette, and put in my largest silver hoops. Then, after donning my winter coat and tall boots, I headed out to do a little grocery shopping. I had in mind a nice romantic dinner at my place, with lots of tonguing, caressing and sucking for dessert. Later, as I was lugging my purchases home, I spotted Eleanor coming toward me. She rushed up and exclaimed, "Hey, you! You really were on a hot date last night! I saw you two gazing into each others eyes and holding hands!" I blushed and nodded, smiling smugly. "He was definitely a babe!" She declared, "So... isn't this, well, new for you? I mean, you haven't dated a guy before, have you?" "No," I confessed, "He's my first." "So how did that come about?" "I really don't know!" I responded, "We met, I really liked him, he asked me out, and I said yes! It's all a blur!" "Wow!" she said, "So how's it going?" "It's going wonderfully!" I gushed, and felt myself blush, thinking again about the previous night. "Awesome! So have you two been... intimate?" she said in a teasing voice. "Oh, we sure have!" I said, blushing deeper. "Wow!" she said again brightly, "Well! You've certainly hooked yourself a honey. We'll have to get together for coffee as soon as possible and get all caught up. You can give me all the gory details!" We hugged briefly, then continued on our separate ways. Kevin came over later and we spent the afternoon in bed. Afterward, we bustled around the kitchen, and with his help I prepared the food that I had bought. When it was nearly ready, I left him in charge and slipped into the bedroom agai