Suanne Sunny Seeks Sex 1
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Boy Seeks Lady
John and I had been friends since we could remember. We had gone to the
same secondary school and now I was at University while John took a gap
year. We rarely saw each other, but when we did, we made up for lost
time. It was Easter and I was back at home for the holidays. As per
usual, John and I had arranged something together and I drove over to
his house, where he still lived with his mum and dad.
"Hello Lee."
John's father had opened the door. He was 6'2" in his late forties, but
still seemed in good shape for his age. His stocky frame filled the
doorway.
"Hiya Alan. How are you?"
Alan motioned me in, nodding politely,
"Good, good. How's University?"
I talked enthusiastically about my course, while he listened patiently.
Soon we ran out of small talk.
"I'll get John." He said quickly, and went up stairs.
As I waited alone, I saw a pile of ironing sitting on the counter in
the hallway. On the top of the pile was a slightly sheer, cream chiffon
blouse. As I moved closer to it, I could see the detail on the feminine
garment; the flowery patterns of the cream lace collar; the little
white silk buttons down the front and on the cuffs. It was a beautiful
blouse and I began to wonder what it would look like worn. John's
mother had a job in a bank. She was 45 and had shoulder length hair, a
similar colour to mine, which she usually styled into a side parting
with a fringe down to her eye-line. I imagined her wearing this blouse
at work, with a smart, black, pencil skirt and black heels, all the men
unable to resist her cleavage, framed nicely by the lace on the
front...
John coming down the stairs interrupted my thoughts. We exchanged the
casual smile that between good friends says it all.
"Your hair's grown." John commented.
I had grown my hair while I had been away and tied it back into a
ponytail. It now came down to just below my shoulders. Of course, my
dad hated it.
Over a few beers, we caught up on each other's lives. John told me
about his job, and how he was promoted to assistant manager at the shop
where he worked.
"Great! How is it?" I asked.
"Pretty shitty! They gave me a load of hours, and I've got to work
tomorrow morning, seven-thirty to five!"
"Poor you. Does that mean I've got to drive home tonight?" I asked.
"No, you can still crash here if you like. My parents are both out at
work tomorrow so you'll be home alone. Just remember to lock the door
when you leave and hide the key under the mat."
With that, John handed me another beer, and we spent the rest of the
night watching films and getting more and more inebriated. Finally we
had had enough, and we groggily went to bed. I slept in the spare room,
letting my hair down as I climbed into bed.
-
The next morning, I was woken by the sunlight streaming through my
window. It took me a few moments to work out why I wasn't in my usual
bed. After a while, I pushed up enough drive to get me out of bed. At
the realisation of needing to use the bathroom, I started to put on
some underwear. I then remembered that everyone was at work, and I was
alone in the house. I let the boxer shorts slide off my leg and I
confidently strode to the toilet completely naked and commenced the
morning ritual.
On my way back from the bathroom, for some reason or another, I felt
the need to browse around as some people do sometimes when they are
alone in someone else's house. As I floated in and out of the rooms, I
took in the titles of books on the bookshelves, the faces of family and
friends in the framed photos, fiddling with the random little knick-
knacks that littered the house. As I entered the master bedroom where
John's parents slept, my eyes raked the room for interest. At the foot
of the bed, I saw the pile of washing that had been in the hallway last
night, and on the top of the pile was that gorgeous blouse.
I was drawn to it, floating like a feather being blown on the wind. I
stood there naked, in front of the pile. As I once again took in the
finery of the lace, my arms moved forward to allow my fingers to gently
trace the flowery patterns. The feel of chiffon was so soft on my
fingertips. I ran along the tops of the sleeves with my thumb and
forefinger. As I reached the cuffs, I lifted the blouse up and again
thought of John's mum wearing it in the office, men staring and
flirting with her all day. A little squeeze on the knee as she sat next
to a colleague, a gentle pat on the ass as she walked by a desk, maybe
even the brush of a hand as she handed over some documents. John's mum
was desirable, and the men at her work all desired her. They couldn't
keep their hands off her. They couldn't resist those smooth legs in
tights, the click of her heels, her ass in that skirt, the lace detail
on her bra through that luscious blouse and the temptations beneath.
At that very moment, I wanted to be just like John's mum. I wanted to
be desired by all those men. I wanted to be flirtatious, and coy and
demure. I wanted to be feminine and attract those touches and pats. I
wanted to feel small in the arms of a big, strong, man.
I decided there and then that this was the time that I could make my
fantasy come closer to life. I walked over to the nearest set of
drawers by the bed. Opening the top drawer, I could see a pair of silky
knickers, white with lace trim and a little bow on the front. I
gingerly held them in my hands for a second, before throwing them on
the bed. Next, I rummaged through the draw, trying to find a matching
bra, which I did. Again, the lace trim and the bow on the front were
adorable. I grabbed a few more pairs of knickers and threw them and the
bra onto the bed.
I opened up the wardrobe and found rows of blouses, tops, skirts,
dresses and shoes. I spent a while thumbing through the garments like
silky pages in a feminine book. John's mum certainly liked to dress
like a lady. I found a black cotton skirt, which stopped, just after my
knees and had a slit at the back. I threw the skirt on the bed and
looked through the shoes. I was saddened to realise that John's mum had
small feet and none of the shoes fitted me.
I walked over to the bed and held the knickers in my hands. I stared at
them for a second. Was I really going to do this? Was I really going to
wear my best friends mums underwear? I rubbed the silk on the knickers
with my fingers. Of course I was.
I slipped them up my legs, relishing every moment. I tucked my penis
behind me and pulled the knickers up tightly. I was wearing the
underwear of my best friends mum. It felt wrong, but at the same time,
I felt I was more like the desirable woman I wanted to become. I was
more like John's mum. John's mum wore these knickers under her skirt.
So did I.
I unzipped the skirt and pulled it up my legs, the silk lining cold on
my skin. It was tight, but it zipped and the small button at the back
just about did up.
I put my arms through the straps of the bra, and hooked it at the back.
The tightness across my chest and back felt good. I stuffed each cup
with some knickers and shaped them into breasts. I gently massaged
them, feeling the lace trim on the cups.
I walked over to the blouse. God it was fabulous. I carefully picked it
up and slid my hand into the sleeve. The material caressed my back as I
brought around the sleeve to my other arm. Starting from the bottom, I
did up the little silk buttons, stopping at 2 before the collar, making
my bra visible beneath.
I thought to walk effeminately to the bathroom where I could see myself
in the big mirror on the wall. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the
reflection. It wasn't exactly the desirable office worker that I had
fantasised about, but it was certainly feminine. In women's clothes, I
looked cute. I did a half-turn and looked over my shoulder at the
reflection of my back. The straps of my bra were clearly visible
through the thin material of the blouse, always on display to all those
office men. I loved that.
My hair wasn't right. It wasn't feminine enough. I began to play with
it.
"Cute."
My heart stopped.
I saw her reflection in the mirror. She was wearing a white silk blouse
with a medium length red skirt. Her red lipstick matched her outfit and
her dark eye shadow emphasised her dark eyes. Her hair was kept back
with a clip and her nails were painted red. It was John's mum.
I didn't dare turn round. My legs trembled and I started to feel sick.
I was wearing this woman's clothes. I was wearing this woman's
underwear, in front of her! I couldn't move.
"Come here."
I did as she said. As I slowly walked towards her, I looked down at the
ground, wishing it would swallow me up. I stopped a few feet in font of
her.
"That's my favourite blouse you know." She said.
I said nothing, just kept staring downwards, my head bowed in quiet
acceptance.
"I love the feel of the material on my skin; the delicate lace detail
and the way it makes me feel all feminine when I wear it. Is that what
you like too? Do you want to feel feminine, like a woman?"
I nodded slowly, still looking at the floor.
"I love the way that men stare at my breasts when I wear that blouse.
Is that that you want? Do you want men to stare at you with desire?"
I waited a while, and then nodded finally.
"I like a man to be strong and firm. I like to feel small in his arms.
Is that what you want? To be pretty and submissive in a strong man's
arms?"
"Yes." I said.
I couldn't believe I was standing there, in front of my best friend's
mum, wearing her underwear, telling her that I wanted a man to desire
me and treat me like a woman.
"Would you like me to help you look more feminine?"
I looked up at her to see if she was joking. Her face was hard to read.
"You'd do that?" I said cautiously.
"Sure honey." She paused. "I know what it's like to want to look
desirable. I know what it's like to want to look pretty and I know what
it's like to want a man close to you. Why should the fact that you're a
boy prevent you from doing this?"
I couldn't believe she was saying this.
"I'd love it if you could make me more feminine. I want to be
desirable." I said eagerly.
"Well let's do it then!"
She went to the airing cupboard and took out a big pink towel and laid
it on the radiator,
"The first thing you should do is go have a nice long soak in the bath.
Take my clothes off while I run you one." She walked over to the bath
and turned the taps.
As I stripped off my feminine garments, I was giddy with excitement. I
couldn't believe that John's mum was so understanding. Here I was,
having been caught dressed in her clothes, and she wanted to help me
look better!
"Okay, the bath is ready, get in." said John's mum.
I felt pretty self-conscious standing there in the nude with John's mum
present. I crouched in the bath and quickly sank down into the warm
water.
"I need to go out for a while. I want you to shave off your body hair
while I'm gone okay?"
I was a little shocked at this, but I so wanted to be feminine that it
didn't matter. I'd love having a smooth body.
"Here's something to make you smell feminine too." She handed me a
bottle of bath oils. "The razor and shaving foam is on the side
there... I'll see you soon."
With that, she turned around and I watched her curvy body glide out of
the bathroom. A few seconds later, I heard the front door open then
shut. I was alone again.
I lay relaxed in the bath for some time enjoying the flowery scent of
the bath oils. Then, after washing my hair, I picked up the razor, and
began to shave my body, admiring the way my skin became smooth and
hairless.
As I pulled the plug on the bath, I heard the front door open again.
John's mum walked in as I was drying myself with the fluffy pink towel
on the radiator. In her arms was a pink silky bathrobe. She opened it
up for me to step into and then tied a big bow at the front with the
silk chord. I could feel the silky material slide over my hairless
legs.
"Okay, now let's dry that lovely long hair of yours."
-
I could feel my scalp warm up under the blow dryer, the hairbrush
gliding over my head in John's mum's hand.
"So how long have you been dressing up in ladies clothes?" John's mum
raised her voice slightly over the noise of the hairdryer.
I remember when I was seven and my mum kept some of my younger sister's
dresses in the wardrobe in my room. I remember setting my alarm clock
for three in the morning. I remember my hands shaking as I held my
sisters dresses out in front of me. They wouldn't stop shaking until
the dress finally fell down over my body and I had done up all the
little buttons on the front.
"Ever since I can remember." I replied.
My scalp was getting hotter. The sound of the hairdryer was a roar in
my ears.
"Who's clothes did you wear?" John's mum shouted.
I remember when I was 11 and I crept into my parent's bedroom, even
though I knew I was alone in the house. I remember opening the laundry
basket and fishing out a pair of knickers. I had never worn female
underwear before. My body would shake as I pulled them up my legs. I
never forgot that alien feeing I got the first time I wore my mums
underwear.
"I started off with my sister's clothes when I was a child. As I grew,
I could fit into more of my mum's things." I said.
"Did you ever get caught?"
I remembered when I was 12. I came home from school one day to find a
pair of knickers and a bra arranged on my bed. I distinctly remember
hiding them better than that.
"Once or twice. My mum didn't understand it and although she never told
my dad, she far from approved."
The hairdryer went dead. The silence.
"What are you? Gay? Bisexual? Do you like women?" She said in a voice
without a hint of negativity.
I remember when I was 13. My first orgasm. I remember I was lying in my
bed wearing my sister's silk pyjama top and matching shorts. I wasn't
thinking of anything in particular, just concentrating on the feelings
of the tight silk on my skin, as I rubbed my crotch against the bed. I
remember every orgasm I've had since has never been over a female, yet
I don't find men attractive.
I remember when I was 16. I had begun to imagine men kissing me and
touching me when I was dressed as a girl. I remember no longer thinking
that a man's cock was disgusting.
I remember when I was 17. I had gotten fully dressed up one time when
my parents were out. I had put on makeup and wore jewellery and even a
black leather handbag. I remember wondering how feminine it would be to
use a tampon. I remember my hands shaking yet again as I took one out
of it's packaging and slowly inserted it.
I remember when I was 18 and I found my mum's vibrator. Smooth and
golden, I masturbated it with lubricant, imagining it was a real cock.
I remember how cold the lubricated end was when it was when it touched
my skin, and when I had it all the way in, how I feared that it would
go in too far and not come out.
I remember when I was 19 and looking at personal ads on the Internet,
for another transvestite man to have sex with. Yet I never thought
about men unless I was in female mode. Girlfriends feel right. I've
fallen in love with women. I want to be married and have children, in
bed with my wife. But in all my experiences, women never aroused me
enough to maintain a full erection.
"I don't know. I love and adore women, but I've never orgasmed over
one. I find men unattractive, but I yearn to be fucked like a woman by
one. I feel so alone. I hear about all my friends having sex like it's
the easiest thing in the world. So why am I afflicted with this
complication? This unnaturalness?"
I looked down at my hands. I stared at them for what seemed like
forever. We sat in silence.
"Tell me more about what it feels like when you dress up?" John's mum
said, quietly interrupting the silence.
I tried to think of how to describe it. The tingling sensation, the
excitement, the warmth, the happiness, the arousal. The paranoia, the
disgust, the shame, the sadness, the loneliness. The longing.
"It feels absolutely wonderful, yet never for too long. Sometimes I
look in the mirror and see myself wearing poorly applied makeup, broad
shoulders noticeable beneath a sleeveless top. A man's jaw and thick
eyebrows stare back and just won't go away."
John's mum stopped combing and put the hairbrush down. She looked me in
the eyes while she took my hand and stroked it. Without saying
anything, she walked over to her bedside draw and opened it. She
returned with a pair of white satin knickers.
"Here you go baby. These are mine, and I want you to enjoy wearing
them. From now on, my clothes are your clothes. I want to share my
femininity with you. I will help you look as beautiful as I can."
I stood there, shocked into to speechlessness by what she had just
said.
She handed me the knickers and I stepped into them, bringing them up my
smooth legs, and underneath the pink silk of the bathrobe. They felt
fantastic.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked her.
"Because in a perfect world, you shouldn't have to deal with the fear
and the pain and the shame of who you are. I want you to feel that with
me, you can be beautiful."
This pushed me over the edge. I grabbed for John's mum and wrapped my
arms around her. As I stood there in an eternal embrace, I felt her
silk blouse against my hands. So smooth, so feminine. And at the same
time, I knew that my pink silk bathrobe rubbing against my hairless
body and my satin underwear were smooth and feminine like her.
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