Ding Dong free porn video

This is a small rewrite of the original that was published in November 2006, to correct errors in grammar and spelling, and adding a few small details to make the story flow better. Ding-Dong I had almost finished my morning really close shave when the doorbell rang. It was only 9:30 AM. I couldn't think of anyone that would be ringing my doorbell that early, especially on a Saturday morning. I pulled a towel from the rack and swiftly wiped the remaining shaving cream from my face, put on my robe and walked quickly to the window that allowed me to see who was standing at my door. I could see from the back, a tall, slim a blond, wearing a mustard colored tailored suit and carrying what appeared to be a briefcase. The thought briefly crossed my mind that she might be a Jehovah witness or a Mormon but I knew I wanted to get a closer look, so I strode quickly to my front door and peered through the security peep hole. I was looking into the face of a very attractive young, women, probably in her mid twenties. I turned the doorknob, opened the door, unlatched the storm door, opened it and said, "Good morning, may I help you?" "I'm your neighborhood Lady J representative, Evey Jackson, is the lady of the house in?" The passing of a large noisy construction vehicle nearly drowned her out. "I'm sorry, I didn't understand you, who did you say you are?" I asked, avoiding a direct answer that there was no lady of the house. I was a single, 25 years old and unattached at the moment. Before she could repeat her statement I invited her into the house and motioned for her to have a seat. With the grace of youth and the bearing of a beautiful woman who knows she's beautiful, she walked across the room and sat in the chair beside the coffee table. "Would you like a cup of coffee, I just now made a pot?" I asked. With a smile that would illuminate the darkest day, she relied, "Yes that would be great." I disappeared through the swinging kitchen door, and as I went I yelled, "How do you take it?" "Black, with two sugars, please," came the reply in a feminine voice touched with a southern accent. Within moments I stood in front of her holding out her matching cup and saucer, carefully selected from my meager collection of dishware. As she took it with her left hand I noticed the lack of a ring of any kind. I sat down next to her on the couch, placing my own coffee on the table. She again asked, "Is the lady of the house in?" I now had to admit that I was a bachelor and that I lived here alone. I also told her that my busy schedule kept me from having anything that resembled a social life. In an effort to get to know more about this beautiful creature, I asked her how her sales efforts were going since this was a developing community and I also tried to make other small talk. I noticed that as we spoke she looked at my bare feet several times and stared at the part of my leg that was exposed beneath my robe. After finishing her coffee as she stood to leave. I said, "Doesn't your Company also now sell men's skin care products?" "Yes we do," she replied, "but before we get into that may I use your bathroom?" "It's just down that hall," I gestured, "first door on your right." After a few minutes I heard the toilet flush, the sound of water running in the sink, the door opening and her heels clicking down the hall. "Well, it appears that in your haste to finish shaving and answer the door, you neglected to slide the door of you bathroom's medicine closet completely closed." As she again moved beside the coffee table to pick up her brief case, she said, "I couldn't help but notice the women's skin care products on the shelf as well as the variety and large number of cosmetics in there. You also have what appear to be remnants of nail polish on your big toe, and your leg, what I could see of it, appears to be as smooth as mine. I have an idea what's going on, but you can tell me to get out, it's none of my business." I fumble mouthed an answer that came out incoherently. Before I could get my wits together she said in a kind and understanding tone, "My younger brother used to like to dress in my clothes. He thought I was unaware of what he was doing, but a women notices small things, like their lingerie drawer being out of order, even slightly, and can tell, since she arranges her closet in a particular order, when something's amiss." There was a long tomb-like silence as I looked down. "You're right, it's none of your business," I said softly keeping my head lowered, "but I'm not going to ask you to leave. I need help from someone who knows about cosmetics. And from your comportment I can see that you have real class. You probably have a well off, if not rich, boyfriend, and find me disgusting. But we have a win-win situation here. I also need advice on wardrobe and accessories and I can tell from looking at you that that comes naturally." "If you can get past your revulsion, I'll buy whatever cosmetics you think I need for my feminine persona, and I'll pay you anything you ask to go with me to the women's section of department stores to advise me what to buy." "Wait a minute," she said in a soft gentle voice. "First, I don't find you repulsive. You are a slightly built but very good looking polite and gentle young man; second I don't have a boyfriend, rich or otherwise. Like you, I've been too busy developing this business as well as going to school to get a degree in psychology to have any social life." I just sat there thinking to myself, maybe, just maybe I'm the luckiest guy in the world. Little did I know how lucky I was to become. Looking at her watch, she said, "It's almost ten thirty now and I have a couple of other calls to make. You get dressed as your feminine persona and I'll be back after lunch, let's say two o'clock. Get dressed as if you were going out in the daytime. And don't over do the make up, I would suggest little or none, but that's up to you." I jumped up and as exited as a young puppy, after she picked up her briefcase I escorted her to the door saying, "You can't possibly believe how I'm looking forward to two o'clock." Before the door closed behind her I said, "My name's Tom Kelly, the lady you'll see this afternoon name's Laura." As soon as she drove away I turned the taps on the bathtub and poured in the finest bubble bath soap I had. After the long luxurious soaking I took my Lady Schick razor from the tub side where I placed it before getting in, and shaved my whole body from my hair line to the tips of my toes, except for a small triangular patch around my genitals. I patted myself dry and applied witch hazel all over me, which stung like hell, but it does close my pores. I next rubbed a moisturizer over my entire body. Shaking with anticipation I opened my walk-in dressing closet door that was hidden behind the full length mirror in my bedroom. The 'closet' ran behind the whole length of the large bedroom about twenty feet, had a five drawer bureau with a large mirror over it pushed against the far wall. Along side of it was a large dressing table with several more drawers and a straight-back chair. The closet was actually a 7 foot wide room. I had installed a more than ample lighting supply over the mirrors and stage light (movable rack lighting) along both walls. There were also table lamps equipped with 100 watt soft lite bulbs on the end tables beside the light oak chair which was directly across from a full length 3 three pieces mirror. OH Yeah! I had it all. I took out a pair of pink satin panties decorated with lace around the waist and each leg. The matching bra was folded and lay underneath it. From the variety of pastel colored slips in another drawer, I selected a white full one that closely matched the panty set in lacey embellishments. I also had a pink waist cinch that I knew was going to be difficult to get on, but It helped me to appear to have a more feminine figure. I laid these items on the chair in front of the dressing table. From a drawer in that dressing table I drew a large clear plastic freezer bag filled with nylon stockings, each pair kept in smaller clear sandwich bags. I selected a light tan thigh high pair. My bag of shoes hung to the right of the entrance and from there I selected a pair of 2 ? inch heeled patent leather black pumps. I did that because I knew the black pencil skirt and off white blouse that I was going to wear would go along with what Evey had suggested. Before putting on the panties I put a garter belt around my waist and then pulled the panties on making sure the garter belt straps went under the panties. The feeling of the panties clinging to my behind and compressing my miniature manhood (I had never been big in that department) had to be restrained by a smaller (size three) pair of satin panties worn under the size fives. I pushed my testicles up into my abdomen and then folded my penis back between my legs. The smaller size same color panties held 'it' firmly in place. The bra was a 36 B. I never really liked the look of a big busted woman myself, so why would I want to look like one? I put on a pair of rubber gloves before I opened the plastic bag with the nylons. I had had too many experiences of snagging a good pair of real, not stretch nylons, on my fingernails, even after carefully filing them. Anyhow, I rolled the nylons up and with great care slipped each one up my leg and fastened it to its matching garter strap. I enjoyed feeling the garter belt elastic straps pulling on the nylons and panties when I walked. Next I put on the bra and inserted the expensive mastectomy prosthesis. They were as close to the human female breast as could be constructed. They felt and looked like the real thing, complete with nipples and areola. Now, when I looked in the mirror I had a real feminine shape, even the flat 'V' between my legs. Next I gently and slowly pulled the slip over my head and arranged it to fit my body. I could feel stirrings in my crotch but knew because of the restriction 'down there' I wouldn't spoil the illusion. Taking the blouse off it's hanger I put it on, also slowly and carefully. The silky feeling gave me goose pimples as I buttoned down the cuffs and the front. The blouse had a wide V neck. Not plunging enough to show cleavage, if there had been any, but enough to expose the lacy top of my slip. I began to feel more feminine as I stepped into the skirt and pulled it over my hips and buttoned it at the side and pulled up the zipper. Then standing in front of the mirror, I pulled the skirt up so I could pull down the edges of the blouse. I pulled firmly enough that my breast stuck out prominently, but I could adjust that next. Dropping and smoothing the skirt, I stuck both arms out in front of me and that put enough of the blouse loose from the skirt waist to ease the strain on the fabric over my breast to normal. I'd put the shoes on last. Next, I sat down at the dressing/vanity and began the process of applying my makeup. First, I pulled a clear plastic circled cape with a hole in the middle over my head, and then I applied a liberal amount of skin cleanser and then scrubbed it off. Next, came a liberal amount of moisturizer, which I smoothed over my entire face ear to ear and around my hairline to the bottom of my neck. I gently massaged it all in. It was almost like pouring water on a brick; it was absorbed very quickly into my moisture deprived skin. I walked out of the bedroom to the kitchen, enjoying every delicious sensuous feel of the nylon and satin touching my skin. I poured a glass of sherry and returned to my secret room. I applied another layer of moisturizer and let it sit on the surface of my skin before rubbing it in. Now the foundation; I held my finger over the top of the narrow neck of the bottle and shook it, then dabbed what was on my finger to the middle of my forehead. I repeated this process just a few times applying a touch of foundation to different locations on my face. Then using a triangular sponge I blended them together attempting to cover the darker locations, like between my chin and lower lip, with a lighter reflecting surface, therefore a thicker layer of foundation. I had been good in art in school and knew how to use light and color to achieve particular effects. Next, using a big fluffy brush I applied powder over the foundation making sure everything was covered, especially alongside my nose and below my eyes. I took a sip of my sherry and then a moment to closely examine what I had accomplished so far. I knew the foundation was still drying and the remaining excess powder would momentarily be ready to dust off with more use of the big brush. I next used a medium brown blush to darken the inside top and sides of my eyes; darker at the top and blended lighter toward the bottom. I applied just a light touch of mascara and blush and a light pink lipstick. Now for the final touch, the brown curly medium length wig. This would complete my metamorphous into Laura and everything I did after this would be in her persona. After holding the top front of the wig tight to my forehead I pulled the back as far down my neck as I could and then grabbed the two tabs on each side and centered it. Shaking my head vigorously, Voila, peeking through the bangs at the mirror I could see Laura. Using a brush and a rat tailed comb, I arranged the wig into what I considered an appropriate hair style for a woman my age. I got up and got my jewelry box from the top of the dresser and selected a silver watch, small oval rhinestone earrings and a small silver charm bracelet. After winding the watch and looking at the clock to determine what time to set it to I realized it was one thirty. GOD how time flies when you're having fun! I still needed to superglue on my fingernails. Yes, super glue. The nails come off easy enough if you don't overdo the superglue. I selected nails that were as close as I could get to the color of the lipstick and proceeded to put'em on. First I laid them on the dressing table in the order they would be applied. I would apply them to my right hand first because being right handed that would be the easiest to do without any nails at all. Then with the nails in place I'd be able to overcome the dexterity problems easier with my right hand. I guess it really doesn't matter which you do first but I've always used that method. Just as the nails dried and I was ready to walk back to my living room, the doorbell rang. It had to be Evey. I put my heels on and hurried to the door. Without looking through the peep hole I opened the door. Oh, MY GOD, It's a UPS guy, brown shorts and all. "Package for Mr. Kelly," he said as he looked at me, holding out the package and on top of it a board for me to sign. A thousand thoughts went through my head and I must have certainly had a panic looking expression on my face. "Ma'am, anything wrong?" he said with a worried look on his face. I managed to shake my head slightly, I certainly couldn't speak, both for fear of being read and my throat had almost closed from fright. Now, I really know what someone says when their mouth went dry from fear. I opened the storm door, took the package and with a shaking hand, signed T. Kelly. "Thanks and have a good day," he said as he turned and walked away. MY GOD, I thought to myself, I passed, even in the daytime. Of course I was in that shadow of the porch roof but it was still daylight. I started to close the door when I saw Evey's waiting in her car for the UPS truck to move. I was flabbergasted; she drove a real antique, a 1957 Chevy BelAir, a genuine classic. I was somewhat of a classic car buff, but I couldn't afford that car. I knew she hadn't seen me. I put the package in the closet and quickly checked myself in the mirror. This time with a lot of confidence. When the doorbell rang this time I opened the door and Evey stood on the other side. The look on her face was complete awe. Her face was frozen in that expression for what seemed like minutes. "Laura, Tom...ahhh...Tom, is that really you?" She slowly looked me over from head to foot as I opened the storm door to let her in. "This is totally unbelievable. I expected to be greeted by a person who looked like a man in a dress, not this enticing, attractive creature." "I saw the UPS truck leave, did you answer the door?" "Yup, I mean Yes," I tried to say in a softer voice. "And he didn't read me, I think." "No, I'm certain he didn't," she said in a positive tone of voice. "Did he hit on you, he was young enough?" "To tell you the truth, he could have been pounding on me with a sledgehammer and I wouldn't have noticed. I was too concerned that he would start laughing or running." "C'mon sit down," I said. Evey walked over and gracefully sat down on the couch and put her briefcase on the floor beside her. "You know, from what I see, I don't think I'm going to be much help to you." "You mean I'm even beyond what your talents can do?" I said with a depressed tone of voice. "Oh no, no, I mean I couldn't improve on what you look like right now. You're beautiful. I have one small suggestion though; those rhinestone earrings are not for day wear." "Can I see where you accomplished this transformation and get a look at your wardrobe and cosmetics as well as your foundation garments and other lingerie." "You most certainly can and please, please, let me know what belongs and what doesn't. I could use more room in that closet, so if there is anything that shouldn't be there tell me and I will gladly get rid of it." "If you're done with your house calls for today, would you like a drink, wine sherry or whiskey?" "Great Idea, I'll have a white wine if you have any." "Two glasses of white wine coming up." I had some difficulty getting the cork out of the bottle because of the long nails and Evey must have heard me struggling with it, because she came into the kitchen to watch. "Not a lot of fun being a woman with those long nails and no guy around, huh?" she laughed. She took the cork screw and bottle and had the cork out immediately with one twist and pull. She then pored us both a glass of wine. When we returned to the living room and sat together on the couch, she said in amazement, "you smoothed your skirt before you sat down, and crossed your legs without showing a lot of thigh, you've had a lot of practice wearing feminine apparel, haven't you?' I had to admit that I'd been cross dressing for about twelve years, secretly without my Mom or sister knowing. "I'm not attracted to guys though, I'm still a heterosexual through and through." "I'm somehow fascinated with the fact that a man would want to wear lingerie, cosmetics and feminine clothes," she said softly. "You know what?" How would you like to be the subject of my psychology paper?" "If you agree I'll help you to become even more feminine and sexy and... I'll supply you with the cosmetics for free, deal?" "Deal," I said quickly. "First let's do a color analysis, using your skin tone and hair color to determine what colors look best on you." As she said that she lifted her briefcase onto the table and took out several color swatches. When she finished she said I was a 'Warm Winter' type. Which meant that a certain group of colors termed 'Warm Winter' would be the colors I wanted to keep in mind when I purchased more clothes and also use as a guide when we went through my closet to decide what clothes would make an outfit and what we should throw out. She said "winters need hues that are sharp, stark and clear to complement their skin. They look best in intense, rich colors, like black, navy blue, red, and hot pink. For lighter colors, wear bright white or icy pastels, such as cool blues, pinks and yellows. Avoid earthy tones and subdued colors like beige, orange and gold as they will make the skin look unhealthy. "Okay," she said, "let's get started with the wardrobe." As she said that she stood up and walked down the hall toward my bedroom. When I caught up with her she was already looking through the clothes hanging in my closet. "Are these Mau-Mau's or housecoats?" she said almost laughing. She was holding up two shapeless dresses that I had purchased a long time ago, before my exercise program brought my weight down to where I could begin using tight feminine foundation garments to fashion a more hourglass-like figure. "Oh, I forgot I had those, put them on the bed and we'll start a 'This goes to Good Will' pile." "And this?" she said holding up a skirt that had a diagonal plaid pattern. "I guess that goes too?" "Yep," she said, "that is so 80's" We spend about an hour discussing what to keep, what to throw out and what went with what and what accessories to wear with what and when. After were finished, I had about eight different outfits that I had to admit looked a lot more fashionable that I could have thought up by myself. "Okay, the next step is deciding which of the colors in the Warm Winter group you like. I can guide you in appropriate styles for your age. Before we get started looking at the catalog, how about you change into the pleated black skirt and silk baby blue blouse I saw in your closet. I think you really look great in that outfit. And change the earrings to something simpler" I did as she suggested then we moved into the living room and sat side by side in front of the Women's clothing catalogue. I also poured us each another glass of wine. As we look through it, our heads were side by side. When I looked at her and started to speak, she looked up at me, and as our eyes met then she took my head between hands, it was completely spontaneous. The kiss was gentle, and I felt her tongue pressing between my lips. I opened them to let her tongue mingle slowly with mine. I could hear her begin to breathe faster as my left arm slowly circled her back. Her right went around me and I gently placed my right hand on her breast. She encouragingly moaned softly and moved closer to me on the couch. As I caressed her breast, I felt her hand on my leg. Her beautifully manicured nails were slowly stroking up and down the outside of my leg, getting further up with each stroke. Soon I felt her hand slide under the hem of my skirt and begin to move around the top of my leg. She moaned again and she said, "Nylons and a garter belt, you are a sexy bitch!" As her fingers continued to stroke my leg, she said, "Doesn't that feel good? I like it when men do that to me too. Is that a satin slip you're wearing? " "Uh-huh," I managed to moan. Swirling in small soft circles, she moved her fingernails further up the top of my leg. I could feel my penis beginning to come alive. Her hand touched the bottom of my panties and she moaned, "It feels like your panties are satin too, do they match your slip?" "Yes, but the panties are pink and the slip is white, why?" "I don't know, but I- I'm getting very excited about you wearing ultra feminine lingerie and I like it." She was breathing hard and speaking in a low seductive voice. Just as she was saying that she moved her hand closer to my crotch and her index finger touched the middle. "My, you even get wet too," she said with a sensuous moan. "How wet?" I asked, astonished. "You're very wet," she replied huskily. Her fingernails then began to move back and forth over my lower abdomen just above my rock hard member. She was moaning every time she touched the part of my panties that were getting wetter and wetter. She hiked my skirt and slip up far enough for both of us to see my panties. "Look you are really getting soaked." I looked down and saw a damp spot in the middle of the crotch in my panties. I got even hornier. I could see my white slip just above the black skirt and could clearly see my pink panties and I felt a tingling all over my body as I watched that damp spot get slightly bigger. I thought I was going to climax. "Those panties are really sexy with all that lace across your tummy and around the legs. Don't worry, your cum will wash out with no sign of a stain," Evey said. She then pushed me down onto the couch keeping my skirt and slip high enough to expose my panties and garter straps. She began to unbutton the top of my blouse and push her hand under my slip and bra. Suddenly she stopped, sat up, and said, "Whoa, do you have real breasts? Are you really a girl? I felt warm erect nipples and you're getting wet where a real girl gets wet." "No," I said with a chuckle as I explained about the restraint and the mastectomy prosthesis. Breathing even harder, she said, "Wow, you're really into this, do you wish you were, or are you going to become, a woman?" "No," I replied rather firmly without letting my male side show through, "I enjoy the perks of being a man but I enjoy occasionally allowing my feminine side out of the shadows. I enjoy the preparation and the feeling of wearing the soft satiny, silky clothes and hearing that faint rustle of satin and nylon," I told her "Wow, I feel the same about being a woman and I enjoy shopping for sexy lingerie." "You are a rare man," she said as she continued to unbutton my blouse until she had it completely open. She started kissing my shoulders as she slipped her hand under my faux breasts. I could hear low moans coming from her again as she moved her kisses to where my cleavage would be if I had any. My nipples were as hard as my penis. She stood up and unbuttoned her skirt and let it slide to the floor. Then she removed her jacket. She wasn't wearing a blouse only a full baby blue lacy nylon slip. She pulled up the hem far enough to expose her garter belt and panties and then lay down on top of me. I managed to move my hand and touch her crotch briefly. She too was wet. She then began to grind her pelvis into mine. My rock hard penis was now bulging enough for her to feel it pressing against her vagina. "Ohhhh my Godddd," she slowly moaned as she moved her hips up and down and in a circular motion. I couldn't resist lifting my pelvis more and more urgently. I could hold out no longer and exploded in an orgasm like I have never experienced before. "Ohhhhh, Ohhhh, Jeeze," I whispered. I could feel the wetness spread inside my panties. I thought I was going to pass out from pleasure. It was far beyond anything I had experienced before. Then I felt it welling up again. My whole body shivered with an ecstasy that I had never felt before. "Welcome to womanhood and multiple orgasms, my dear," she whispered in my ear. "What you've been experiencing in the past is what the French term only a sneeze in the genitals." As I lay there breathing hard and still bathing in the glow of smaller orgasms, like an earthquake's after shocks, Evey rolled off me, stood up and smoothed her slip down over her body, still breathing hard. She leaned over and pulled my skirt and slip down and then in a low sexy voice said, "Can you stand up and remove your skirt and blouse?" I did exactly that and as she stood there she said, "You look really hot, standing there in that beautiful lingerie. Now it's your turn to get me off. It won't take much, getting you off has me right on the edge," she said as she hiked up the skirt of her slip again, then lay down on the bed as she continued in a low sexy voice, "Use your fingers. I don't know anything about your sexual history and don't want to take any chances with STDs especially AIDS." I lay down beside her and leaning over her I began to kiss her ever so gently on the lips while stroking her arm, slowly moving my hand closer and closer to her right breast. I gently and slowly moved her slip and bra straps of her shoulders all the while continuing to stroke her arm. I finally moved my hand behind her back and unhooked her bra. Then I moved my hand inside it and began to lightly rub my finger and thumb around her nipple. "Uhhh," she moaned, "that feels sooo good, keep it up." My penis was beginning to strain against its restrictions again. I could feel it moving in all that delightful cold wet goo in my panties and I could hear the soft satin of my panties and bra moving against each other and across my slip every time I moved to pleasure Evey. She was breathing hard now and moaning, her head was back and her beautiful long neck arching like a bridge. As I kissed her neck I slid my hand inside her panties and began to insert my index finger into her ready orifice. "Slowly, slowly," she whispered. "Be gentle with me." How could I help not being slow and gentle? It was like, like, holding what I imagined an Angel would look like in my arms. I slipped my middle finger alongside my index finger and gently began to smoothly insert it too into her. As I did that, in the midst of a groan she gasped. The tone of her moans began to be lower and longer. "Oh Laura, this is heaven, keep doing what you're doing," she said in a voice full of luxuriant pleasure I could feel her hip beginning ever so slightly to move in synchronization with the rhythm of my fingers moving in and out of her, deeper each time. I could feel her lubricant beginning to pour into her love chamber. Now it was running out and down my fingers. "Ohhhhh Godddddd," she shrieked and close her eyes. I thought there was something wrong. We were both bathed in sweat and her whole body was arched on the bed. A long, low moan came from deep inside her throat as her body began to relax. "WOWEE, that was some fuck," she said excitedly. "You seem to know what you're doing." "I had a good instructor," I said. Looking at her watch she said, "I have to go," as she stood up and walked over to pick up her shoes. She hurried to the bathroom and after a short time came out looking as georgely beautiful as she did when she came into the house earlier. "I'll call you later, we must do this again."