Journey of Discovery
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Journey Of Discovery - Part 4 free porn video
Mark woke up to find himself amazingly clear-headed and refreshed. First
thing he realized was that he had at least one dream about Lysa, and it
wasn't one he could write home to mom about. It began with her doing lap
dance for him - right up in his face with her cleavage. And then she leaned
toward him and kissed him, falling on top of him with both of them landing
on a bed behind him. And if he was recalling it correctly, there was one
part of the dream where he only saw his own face. But there was something
different about it that he couldn't put his finger on. Then he realized he
had lipstick on in the dream. Maybe it was from all of the kissing they had
been doing.
Jumping into the shower, Mark tried remembering more about his dreams. He
got to the point though where he wasn't sure if what he was thinking was
actually what he had dreamt or if he were just fantasizing on top of it.
Today, he decided to shave -- clean and close. After washing up, toweling
off, combing his hair and brushing his teeth, Mark got dressed, grabbed a
quick bite and headed off for work.
He noted Lysa's apartment as he intentionally made sure he drove past it on
his way to the paper. Mark walked into the news room about 20 minutes early
with a little extra spring in his step that did not go unnoticed. It might
have added an extra minute to his drive. Well worth the investment he
thought when he arrived.
"You sure look happy this morning. What's up," Stevie asked Mark as he
passed by.
"Oh, nothing really. Just over whatever I had. How are you doing," Mark
asked politely.
"Better now that you're here," said Stevie.
Mark just half way grinned and shook his head.
Diving into his work load, Mark zipped through his assignments tracking down
information on some pretty mundane stuff. He talked to a councilman about a
spending proposal, police about details on a robbery, and the zoo about a
new animal they were expecting. His day was just flying by until he got a
call in the news room. Stevie said some woman named Lisa asked for him by
name.
"Hi, Mark. How's it going?"
"Just fine. How are you? Anything up?" Mark replied plainly, not wanting to
see as excited as he was about her calling.
"Just thinking of you. Had a great time last night. I know you were talking
about Thursday. But what are you doing tonight?"
"Nothing really," responded Mark, feeling a sudden rush of blood to his face
and perhaps another elsewhere.
"Well, how about catching a movie tonight? There's this new film about
transgenderism called 'TransAmerica' we could see."
"Uh, okay," Mark accepted. He wasn't really worried about it having to do
with the story, but it gives him an excuse to go and see Lysa. Plus, maybe
it would be relevant.
"I'll be out of here by four. What time is it playing?"
"There's a 6:15, an 8:00 and a 10:15."
"Why don't we try to catch the early one, then we can grab a pizza or
something afterward?"
"Sounds good. Just swing by as early as you want. Leaving by 15 or 10 till
six should give us plenty of time. You know where the independent film house
is."
From that point, the day suddenly started dragging. Mark couldn't wait to
get done with work. When he got off the phone, Stevie came by and started
asking questions.
"Who was that?" was the first one.
"Just a contact about a story."
"You looked awfully friendly for somebody just talking to a snitch or
something," Stevie said snidely, stressing "snitch" but implying a word that
rhymes. "What were you blushing about?"
"She said something funny. Don't you have other things to do besides
watching me talk on the phone?"
"Just asking," Stevie said, toning it down a notch noticing the annoyance in
Mark's voice. "What's the story about?"
Mark realized he had kind of snapped at her tried to play it off.
"I'm still exploring the idea. But I'm sure I'll need your help with it once
it gets rolling. I think it will wind up becoming a really unique social
commentary and human interest piece," he said, feigning some sort of
comaradarie.
"Yeah, let me know what I can do," Stevie responded with disappointment. She
was always the go-to girl, but never the go-with girl, she thought to
herself.
Back to counting the two and a half hours left in the day for Mark.
At about 3:45, Mark checked at the news desk to see if anything was going
on. There wasn't, so he told Stevie if anybody needed him, just to page him.
Then he left, with Stevie wondering why he wasn't working late as usually.
Then she figured it out.
Lysa called back again for Mark. Stevie offered to pass along a message. She
figured she would text message it to him. Lysa said the movie didn't start
until 6:50, so don't worry if he was running a little late.
Suddenly feeling betrayed, Stevie told Lysa, "I'll tell him if I see him."
She didn't bother sending Mark a page.
When Mark got home, he washed up and changed his clothes just in case he had
sweat during the day. He put on some cologne and brushed his teeth. Don't
want bad breath. He was out the door at about 5:10. That should give him and
Lysa about a half hour to just talk. Should he tell her how closely he
checked out her website last night? Probably not, he told himself. What are
we going to talk about, he asked himself on the drive over. Maybe other
films? He didn't know. He just went on up to her door, cleared his throat
and knocked.
"Wow, you're early! We've still got an hour."
"I thought I'd be a little early. But don't we have to leave in about 30
minutes?"
"No. I called the paper. Didn't you get my message? I was wrong about the
start time. The movie doesn't begin until ten till seven."
That Stevie, he thought. If he so much as got a call from a telemarketer,
she would page him about it. She MUST have taken the call.
"I must have already left when you called. I snuck out about 3:45."
"Yeah, that's when I called. Oh, well. We'll find SOMETHING to do," said
Lysa with her first flirtatious remark of the night. "How about some
coffee?"
"Sure. Sounds great! That way we're sure not to fall asleep during the
movie," he joked.
Lysa put on a pot and got out the coffee mugs, placing some cream and sugar
on the breakfast bar. Mark pulled up a stool on the outside as Lysa waited
around the kitchen side for the coffee to finish brewing. First, she poured
Mark's cup, then tipped the pot to pour hers as Mark reached for the cream.
He bumped the pot, knocking it into his mug and spilling it painfully onto
his lap.
Mark let out a yell, with Lysa immediately realizing what had happened and
that Mark's pants must be soaked with hot coffee.
"Take them off! Take them off!" she yelled as she ran to the sink to soak a
towel with cold water.
He kicked off his shoes, undid his belt, unbuttoned his pants and pulled
down the zipper in a couple of seconds. That gave him some relief. Then Lysa
spun around with the towel and handed it to him.
"Here, hun. I'm so sorry," she said with anguish on her face.
"Oh, it's not your fault. I wasn't looking where I was reaching," he said
honestly. He had suddenly glanced at Lysa's cleavage as she was pouring the
coffee. One of those instincts men can't resist. Especially with the silk
sun dress she was wearing. The coffee hit him about mid-thigh. He glanced
down and saw it was red, but no blistering. As the pain subsided, Mark
suddenly realized he was standing in Lysa's kitchen with no pants on and a
pair of underwear soaked in wet water.
"Are you okay, Mark? I'm really sorry."
"Don't worry. I'm fine. It's not your fault. But... uh, do you have a towel
or something I could cover up with?"
"Oh, sure. Come with me," she said as she led him into her bedroom. "I'll
get you a pair of shorts or something while I wash your pants," Lysa said,
reaching into a dresser drawer full of old clothes of hers.
"Try these on," Lysa said as she tossed him something underhand, trying not
to look toward him and save him any embarrassment. She then turned
completely away.
Inside of two seconds, Mark had both legs out of his underwear and into the
shorts, pulling them up to his waist. A little tight but they fit. He didn't
even look down, until he saw Lysa looking and covering her mouth with a
giggle.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Lysa chuckled. "That's a skort. I used to play tennis in
that."
Mark reached for the sides to pull it down, but paused to wait on an
alternative.
"I'm, I really don't have anything else that might fit you. Those were from
while I was transitioning. I weighed a little more then. Besides, I won't
tell if you won't," she teased.
He felt a little silly. But given the situation, Mark realized it really
wasn't a big deal. Then Lysa remarked that maybe it would help him get into
the mindset of a transvestite. He didn't say anything, but thought it wasn't
a half bad idea even if Lysa was joking.
"Oh, look. You've got some on your shirt, too," Lysa said talking about a
coffee stain on the front and the tail of Mark's shirt. "Gimme that. I'll
wash it, too. We're going to miss the early showing.
"Here, put this on," Lysa said as she tossed the matching top for the skort
to Mark.
Both, he now noticed, were pretty simple -- no frills or flowers -- just
cotton and polyester in a silky white finish with pink trim. He took off his
shirt and pulled Lysa's tennis blouse over his head with a brief thought
zipping through his head that he was now wearing Lysa's clothes. He then had
a flashback to that time in the shower when he looked down wondering what
goes through a t-girl's mind. Just as quickly, he put the thought out of his
head.
"I could just give you a robe. It's kind of frilly," Lysa said, referring to
her pink satin robe she wears that goes to just above her knee. She didn't
want to embarrass Mark and tick him off and spoil their friendship.
"No, this is fine," answered Mark. He then hesitated, but decided to spit
out what he was thinking about. "Maybe you have a point about getting into
the mindset. I know it's not the same as what you went through, but dressing
like this might give me some sort of idea what a cross dresser feels."
Releasing some of the inhibition felt good. And then he realized he needed
to tuck himself into the shorts lining a little better since he was
experiencing a little excitement from the situation. The combination of
being with Lysa -- in her bedroom and in her clothes -- gave him an odd
feeling to say the least. But it was a thrill in some sort of way. He
definitely wanted to explore this.
"Are you sure?" Lysa asked about Mark's comment on getting into the mindset.
"How do you want to do this? How far do you want to go?" she quizzed with
surprise.
"I don't know. Maybe you could guide me. What should I do?"
"Well, how does it feel? Do you feel like you want to look more feminine?"
Mark really didn't want to talk about his feelings. He figured he would sort
them out once his experience was complete. But he knew he had to tell Lysa
something. He decided on playing it as if it didn't affect him.
"I don't really feel any different. That's why I thought trying something
else might make sense."
"You mean another outfit or taking it to another level? Oh, let's do both!"
And with that, Lysa took the wheel of this impromptu dress-up session.
"First, why don't you grab a quick shower. It'll give you a fresh, new
start."
As they walked into the bathroom together, Mark caught his first full-length
glance of himself all dressed in the mirror. He felt a tingle of sorts
inside, accompanied by an additional surge down below. Lysa then made Mark
familiar with everything he need. She even instructed him on how to use a
facial exfoliant cream she had in the shower. She also pointed out some hair
removal lotion -- like Nair, only a little gentler. He was bare chested, so
he really only needed it on his legs.
She place a pair of her old panties on the vanity next to the sink. And
hanging on the back of the bathroom door was the silky robe Lysa had
mentioned earlier. She told him to wear this out if it made him more
comfortable. Then she would help him get dressed.
Lysa stepped out of the bathroom, and Mark instantly turned back to the
mirror. "What am I doing?" was one question that ran through his head. "How
will I look?" was another. Yet a third was, "What is she thinking?" He
didn't want Lysa to get the wrong idea and think this is why he got into the
story in the first place. He decided to holler out to her.
"Lysa, we don't need to do this. I just wanted to talk to you tonight. And
what about the movie?" He then heard a tap at the door.
He opened it and Lysa popped her head in. "Don't worry, hun. This'll be kind
of fun. Another chapter to your story, so to speak. We can catch a movie
anytime."
At least there's no signal that this is the end of the line. Oh, what the
hell! Mark quickly undressed and started the shower. Hopping in, he put the
hair remover on his legs, and even rubbed some on his arms. It burned a
little bit. Then he did the facial scrub Lysa had showed him. When he got
back to rinsing off the hair remover, he noticed a few tougher spots, turned
off the water, rubbed on some more lotion. Rubbing his groin provided some
extra sensation he wasn't aiming for, but could hardly let go unattended to,
especially if he was stepping out to let Lysa get him dressed. He rubbed
slowly and firmly until finishing the task. He then turned the shower back
on to rinse everything away. All of his leg hair was gone. So was most of
what had been on his arms, and around his private parts. He stepped out of
the shower, rinsed the tub and collected his hair from the drain. He then
washed his hands and patted himself dry all over with a fluffly, oversized
towel.
"Girls have such nice stuff," he thought as he put on Lysa's underwear and
robe. Then he began brushing his hair back while looking at himself in the
vanity mirror. Adding to the remarks he made to himself earlier, he now
reminded himself about the state he was in. "Here I am now, not a follicle of
hair on my legs, and hardly any on my arms or my crotch. My face feels so
smooth from the exfoliant and my hair is so soft from using Lysa's shampoo
and deep conditioner. And now I stand here looking at myself in her panties
and her robe." Clearly, excitement is what he felt. He wrapped a towel up
around his head the way women do after they wash their hair. Then he also
saw a pair of 3-inch thick heeled mules Lysa must wear after she showers. He
slipped them on and they fit! As he stood there looking at himself, Lysa
came with a tap at the door, peeking in.
"Oh, I see my girl is ready! C'mon! Let's get started! And wear the mules.
They'll be good practice."
Embarrassed by being discovered, Mark decided to go ahead and go as she
suggested. With the heels on, he felt like he was walking into the bedroom
on his tippy toes. Mark immediately began to notice that Lysa had been busy
while he was in the shower. He did a scan of the room from left to right,
surveying what all had changed while he was out of the room.
First, to the left, he spotted a pair of styled wigs on Styrofoam heads on
top of a dresser. "What am I doing?" he thought. But it wasn't like he could
turn back now. Then, he saw a pile of dresses spread out across her
king-sized bed. Next to them, he saw some lingerie of some sort - definitely
a couple of bras and different shades of pantyhose, as well as what looked
like a pair of fake breasts.
Lysa spotted some hesitation on Mark's face. That actually gave her some
sense of relief. While she was having fun with this little extracurricular
activity, she wasn't looking for a long-term relationship with a man whose
first desire was to be in a dress. She decided to dial back the enthusiasm a
bit -- starting with the "girl" references -- and try to approach more as an
experiment the way she figured Mark would.
"Do you want to go over mannerisms as well, Mark?"
"I don't know if that's necessary. What do you think?"
"We'll play it by ear. Let's get started with your underwear."
Mark walked over to the bed with Lysa and removed the robe and raised his
arms when she asked. Lysa noticed the nearly hairless arms, but didn't say
anything. She just went about putting one of her old black strapless bras
around Mark's chest. Then she inserted a breast form into each cup. She then
handed him a different pair of panties. They were black, with some padding
on the sides and the bottom. She stepped out of the room and told Mark to
let her know when he was done. A few seconds later, he had them snuggly up
around his hips. When she re-entered, Lysa surveyed his shape, and surmised
Mark could also use a waist cincher to give him more of an hourglass figure.
He held it up in the front as Lysa wrapped it around to the back and
attached the series of hooks.
Then Lysa grabbed a pair of light black hosiery, rolled them up to the toes,
and helped Mark step into each foot. She then explained how should pull them
up little by little to take all the slack out of the legs.
This new sensation, nylon over his bare legs, felt very nice there was no
denying. AS he stroked his thighs to remove little wrinkles in the hose,
Mark also saw for the first time how ladylike his legs looked without the
hair.
The cincher wasn't strangling him, but Mark felt things gripping him very
snug. Lysa told him he could put the robe back on if he liked. After he did,
he tied the sash then caught a look at his profile. The breasts and butt
created a convincing feminine figure. Add to that his womanly legs. And with
the towel around his hair, the robe across his thighs and the silver mules
with the pink boa-like material, he looked pretty much like a woman without
her makeup.
Speaking of which, Lysa was getting ready to apply. She showed Mark to his
seat at her makeup table. Offering to explain every step along the way.
Mark accepted, thinking it would help him realize more about what was
happening instead of just seeing the final result. He removed the towel
first, as Lysa instructed. Then Lysa put a little nylon cap over his hair,
pulling it tight.
First, she gently rubbed his face with a moisturizer, with Mark telling her
how soft her hand felt against his skin. Then she put a medium foundation
all over his face and blended it lightly under his chin. Then she added a
little rouge in places to highlight his cheekbones and give him some
contour. Next, she added shadow to his eyes, followed by eyeliner and
mascara. Finishing with his lips, Lysa outlined them then filled them in
with a candy apple glossy lipstick.
Quite happy with her work now, Lysa decided to keep Mark away from the
mirror until the task was complete. She wanted to surprise him a little with
the results. First, she grabbed an auburn wig that came about to his
shoulders and situated it onto his head until it was perfectly in place.
Then Lysa went over to the bed and picked up a little black dress. She
thought the size 12 should fit Mark just about right. She unzipped it, then
had Mark stand up and step into it, putting his arms through their short
sleeves as Lysa zipped him up.
"Oh, yes," Lysa remarked unable to contain the satisfaction with her work.
"Oh, one more thing. Let's change those shoes."
Lysa went to her walk-in closet and came out with a pair of shiny black
heels in size 8 with four-inch heels.
"Here, slip these on."
Now Mark was up a little further on his toes and standing a couple inches
taller than Lysa. He cautiously walked around in little circles. Then Lysa
led him to her full-length mirror.
"Oh, my..." Mark said as he put his hands up to his mouth. He could not
believe his reflection. From head to toe, he looked entirely feminine. Well,
maybe with the exception of his hands. But here he stood convincing dressed
as a woman -- and not a bad looking one at that. His makeup was flawless.
The luscious lashes and shades of pinks and earth tones in his eye shadow
really brought out his eyes and made them look like a woman's. And those
lips! Those shiny, red lips? Running his tongue across them made him want to
kiss them himself.
"Wow, Lysa! You really know what you're doing," he said with a little
crackle in his voice as he struggled to speak.
The dress with the gather across the top and the rhinestone clasp at one
shoulder really looked nice. And since it was snug at the waist, it
accentuated his new-found feminine form. With his hips curving back outward
and his bottom pushing out behind him, Mark actually looked like quite a
woman. His dress ended just above his knee, showing off some of those girly
legs of his. As he glanced down to his pointed shoes between his breasts,
Mark now had some idea about what he wondered in the shower Monday.
"Let's go out into the living room," urged Lysa. She offered her arm to
steady him as Mark slowly ventured beside her. She guided him to a seat at
the breakfast bar and realized she had better start the laundry.
Instead of coffee, Lysa poured a couple glasses of wine. Mark took a drink,
then noticed his lipstick on the glass as he set it down. They talked for a
while about how a lady sits, how she walks and positions her arms and
wrists, with Lysa having Mark practice through it all.
"Still want to catch that movie?" Lysa asked.
"Are you crazy?" responded Mark in disbelief.
"What do you mean? There will probably be at least a cross dresser or two
there."
"Well, let's just say three's a crowd then. I'm not going out like this."
"What? Do you think transvestites don't go out en femme?"
"Is that what they call it? I don't think en femme is for me."
"But, hun. You look so convincing! No one would know but me."
Lysa's recent references to him as "hun" were driving Mark wild. He really
liked it. And the way she almost begged was so hard to resist.
"Well, I'm not going to any movie," Mark said, caving in to some degree.
"How about if we just go for a ride?"
"Ok. Should I drive?"
"Definitely. I don't have much experience driving with heels."
So they decided on going for a drive. As Lysa turned out the lights, Mark
peered out the door as if to check if the coast was clear. Lysa grabbed her
purse and just walked ahead, motioning Mark to come behind her.
"C'mon, Marcia!" she teased.
Then Mark began hearing his heels tap across the floor for the first time,
wondering how women get used to that noise.
Unbeknownst to either of them, Stevie had been waiting across the street
since shortly after Mark arrived. She noted Lysa's phone number from the
caller ID and looked it up in the reverse directory to get Lysa's home
address. She had been waiting to follow them to a movie, but knew something
was up when the didn't leave. Now nearly 7:30, she notices Lysa's lights go
off, then two women walking out to a silver Lexis. Seeing them get in and
pull away, Stevie decides to follow them with Mark and Lysa none the wiser.
"This is a nice car," Mark said while adjusting his dress on the leather
seats.
"It was my dad's," responded Lysa. "He left it to me when he died. He had a
heart attack out of the blue. He was only 54. We weren't on speaking terms
at the end though, so I like to think of this as his way of apologizing."
"I'm sorry, Lysa. It must be tough."
"Imagine what your parents would say if they saw YOU in that dress right
now? Only every day, and realizing that hair, those tits and that ass are
real."
There was a sudden dose of reality for Mark. Both of his parents had died in
a car accident. But he suddenly felt a little ashamed and wondered if they
could see him somehow.
"I can't imagine," Mark replied. "You've got a point though, that's for
sure. It must have been difficult. Does your mother understand?"
"Not really, though she seems to try. We'll never be like mother and
daughter, but we get along," then Lysa paused and put her hand on Mark's
arm. "Thanks for asking."
Strangely enough, even considering Mark's appearance, kissing crossed both
of their minds. But they didn't want to give other drivers a lesbian lover
display and cause an accident.
"What do you say we head back?" suggested Mark.
But Lysa said, "We just got started. Are you sure you don't want to go and
see that movie?"
Just then, Stevie pulled up next to Lysa's car at the red light on the
passenger side.
Sherry
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