Andy
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Andy 16 free porn video
Andy by Transbonder, translated by Leah from the German
SIXTEEN
"Do you know what tomorrow is?" Mom asked.
I shook my head. What had I forgotten?
"New Year's Eve. Did you actually forget it?"
I looked at her. "What am I supposed to do on New Year's Eve? I'd have a
hard time throwing firecrackers with the boys." Which I regreted a
little. But none of my pals could be allowed to see me this way. I was
wearing a jeans dress and with it bright red tights. I would have
preferred the dirndl, but the jeans dress was more practical when I
helped Mom.
"Yes, at your age the firecracker gig is probably the most important
thing. That will change quickly. I've gotten us an invitation for a New
Year's Eve ball. So to say, at the last second. Someone at work has
fallen ill and gave me two tickets."
"I - I am supposed to go to a ball? This way?" I motioned with one hand
from above to below over a dress.
"No, naturally not in a jeans dress. I checked already, and my brother's
outfit is here and is suitable for the ball."
"I didn't mean it like that. I can't go to a ball as a girl!"
"Why not? Wearing a suit you'd look a little weird with those fingernails
and the hair style. And you don't even have a suit, but I have a dress
for you."
"But Mom! What if someone sees me?"
"You go to the movies and shopping, and then have a problem with going to
a ball?"
Somehow I couldn't explain that myself. On the one hand I had accustomed
myself very much to dresses and skirts, so that I merely regarded them as
normal clothing. But in certain situations I still was afraid of being
seen.
"You've always been afraid of being exposed as a boy in girl clothing."
Mom could read minds. "I don't think that you have to be worried. No one
recognized you from the picture in the newspaper."
"But that was just one picture. It's totally different when someone
stands right across from you."
"Of course you're right, but I don't think that your school friends would
recognize you."
"Just because of the make-up and the hair style?"
"No, not just because of those, although the hair has radically changed
you. And your thin eyebrows contribute to that. But your body language
has changed; that makes the biggest difference. You even talk
differently."
"I talk differently?"
"Yes. How should I say it, somehow - softer? You thoroughly absorb
femininity into yourself. Like with the curtsying, that you so quickly
could do so well."
"I absorb femininity?" Unintentionally I had spoken my thoughts aloud.
"Yes," Mom answered in a convinced tone of voice. "I can't say it any
other way. No one would believe that my son is here in that jeans dress."
She sighed.
I couldn't tell whether she found that good or not. The sigh rather
pointed to her not approving. So I replied, "Then maybe I ought to put a
stop to this?"
She pondered a brief moment. "No, the situation remains: In this vacation
no pants for you. I want to see what develops out of this. And you don't
have anything else planned anyway."
This was absolutely unbelievable. I did indeed have only girl clothing,
and none of it was uni-sex. Every detail said clearly and plainly: girl.
"But I could buy a few things for a boy."
"But our agreement is: No pants for you this vacation. That includes no
suit."
I wanted to respond in rebuttal, but left it alone. Actually I felt quite
comfortable in dresses. And some of it I would have given up with a heavy
heart, say the jeans mini-skirt or the dirndl. But I didn't like the idea
of going to the ball. "Don't you have to dance there, too?"
"Of course, otherwise it wouldn't be a ball."
"I can't dance."
"You are of the age in which people go to dance schools. I'll register
you in the next course."
"That won't help me at the ball."
"I'll teach you one or two dances. That will be enough for the first
time."
Mom ended the discussion with that as she stood up and left. Soon she
reappeared with a familiar box. Then she unpacked the things. First the
dress that I'd already had on once and that she knew nothing about.
"Who put this back in here in such a mess?"
Oh, oh.
She held the dress up in front of herself. "It's good that the material
doesn't wrinkle so easily." Then she added in a soft voice, "I wish I
could still wear it."
Then she again looked into the box. "Oh yes, here are the undergarments
that belong to it." With that she pulled out the black piece with the
straps. "I wonder if the corselet will fit you?"
I knew that it fit, even if it was very tight. But I just shrugged my
shoulders.
She pressed it into my hands. "Here, try it on. And also the matching
panties."
I went to my room with the two items. I undressed and put on the panties.
The last time I had had a disagreeable experience as the material of the
thong disappeared between the cheeks of my derriere. Today it was
different. The feeling was very unusual but not at all so bad. Somehow
even a bit good. At any rate I was aware that I was wearing something
special.
Since I now knew how I had to put on the corselet, it went quite quickly.
My breasts looked genuine through the half-transparent material.
When I went back to Mom, I couldn't clearly read her facial expression.
She gave me the stockings and I pulled them on. I fumbled a bit with the
straps, but I was aware that I actually performed too skillfully.
Mom tugged the seams straight. "That fits very well, as though tailored
for you."
Hmm, what did she mean by that? Hardly the springy stockings. Maybe the
corselet.
Now she held the breast forms in her hands. "I didn't know that these
still existed." She looked at my chest. "It appears to be about the same
size. Well, now you have replacements if something happens to yours."
I didn't want to hope for that. An accident with the breast forms would
be more than painful.
"These look better than mine. Can't I take them?"
"Just take them along, then you can select which ones you want." Then she
gave me the shoes.
I put on the pumps. In recent days I had learned to deal with high heels
well. Then came the dress, which Mom zipped up.
As Mom looked on expectantly, I turned a pirouette.
"You really shouldn't have any worries. No one will have any idea you
could be a boy. The dress looks good on you, actually too good. In it you
look much too sexy for your age."
But I really didn't want to look sexy. Or did I? In some ways I felt good
in these things. Very good. Now I wasn't finding the idea of going to the
ball tomorrow to be so bad.
But before that came the dance lesson with Mom. I had to be able to
waltz, she said. And that wasn't simple. Even in gym shoes it wouldn't
have been easy, but still less so in stilettos.
At first I thought I would never learn. I cut an unbelievably miserable
figure. But I hadn't ever danced before. After an hour it was beginning
to come together.
I had really wished for a pair of pumps. Now I couldn't get out of them
fast enough, when we finally took a break.
"I never realized that dancing is so strenuous," I said exhausted.
"It really isn't either. You are still simply too unskilful, that causes
you to use your muscles too much. Don't worry, things will get better."
After this pause we continued, and it really did go better. But Mom gave
up the idea of teaching me a second dance. Slow and fast waltzes would
have to do.
##
Next morning my muscles were stiff. Going down the stairs hurt with every
step.
Mom just grinned when she saw it. "Good that you are still in your
nightgown. After breakfast you can put on a gym suit, and then we'll
loosen your tense muscles."
Mom knew what she was doing. First a massage, then I had to do a few
exercises. After just a half hour I was myself again.
When I put on my pumps that evening, I was tugged back and forth. On the
one hand I liked the way I looked. And why not, my legs looked terrific
wearing pumps. But then I also had to think about how many hours I would
be wearing them. Could I hold my ground?
But other women managed that, too, so I would as well. I hoped.
I didn't feel comfortable in this situation. Wearing the dress I felt
similar to the first time I had worn a skirt. In the car my uncertainty
grew stronger. Then the thought came to me, why I had learned to dance.
Hardly to dance with my mother. That meant - I would be dancing with a
boy. Oh man!
I shouldn't have come. Suppose I should twist my ankle? Then I couldn't
dance any more. But I think I feared the pain of a damaged foot joint
more than dancing, even if it was with another boy.
Something else occurred to me. Even if I had been wearing a suit, I
didn't know how I was supposed to dance with a girl. I was only familiar
with the girl's position.
##
Several people were already sitting at our table. An older married couple
and another couple of Mom's age - with a son! Oh no, not that!
He may have been somewhat older than I, and in spite of my high heels he
was taller than I. And Mom sat me with a grin next to him. That's how I
knew his height, because he stood up and shoved the chair underneath me.
I wasn't at all prepared for that. How do you react in such a situation?
Startled, I simply let things happen, and that seemed to be exactly what
was expected of me.
"Hello, I'm Kai. What's your name?"
Grrr. I didn't even manage to answer such a simple question without
blushing. At least people couldn't see it so readily since I had make-up
on my face. After all my make-up was heavier than usual per Mom's
recommendation.
"My name is Andrea." I almost let a final S slip out.
"You look nice, Andrea - if I may say so."
Again what was I supposed to say to that? Absolutely nothing occurred to
me. But I noticed that the red had advanced to the neckline of my dress.
If I'd only had on a suit! No decollet? there. And everything is closed
up with a necktie.
On the other hand, I was nearly naked. That Mom who was normally quite
conservative allowed me to wear a thong I could hardly understand.
Because of the surprise chair-shoving I'd not smoothed my skirt under me
and now sat with my naked buttocks on the chair. At least it wasn't made
of plastic.
And it wasn't only my butt that was practically naked, my upper thighs,
too. I felt every breath of air. Outside with all the cold weather it had
really been uncomfortable.
Kai ignored my missing answer and spoke farther. After we both had
loosened up a bit, it was fun to talk with him.
But it was very surprising how he spoke so differently with me than my
pals did. No such word as "horny" was to be heard. I was confident that
if I'd sat here wearing a suit he would talk quite differently.
And then came the moment in which the first dance was announced, and
indeed he invited me. Would I have done that in his place? At the next
ball we'll find out because I'll be wearing a suit!
The dance came off astonishingly well. He was a perfect dancer, and he
made my own imperfection less visible. Thank God he was satisfied with
one dance. It was a really strange feeling to be in the arms of a boy. I
had never before - aside from a few brawls - had such close contact to a
boy.
I had thought it would be very disagreeable to be so close to a boy. But
it wasn't so bad. Actually pretty good, although I would have preferred
to dance with Biene.
When we sat down and he pushed the chair underneath me again, for the
first time I was happy about my dress. He was plainly sweating and
loosened his necktie a little. I didn't have that problem. It was just
that my breast forms were somewhat uncomfortable because sweat had
collected there under the synthetic material.
Hmm, with real breasts a dress like this would be pretty nice, I thought.
##
Kai wanted to dance again.
"Kai, I can't do that yet. I've not yet gone to dance school."
"But you can waltz very well, and that is much more difficult than a
foxtrot. Let's just give it a try."
Then he pulled me gently to my feet. Even on the way to the dance floor
he didn't let go of my hand. That was a really strange feeling.
The bit with the foxtrot didn't actually go over so well. He stepped on
my foot, but it was very likely my fault. We broke off dancing and he led
me by the hand into the foyer where he bought me a glass of champagne. I
had practically never drunk alcohol and was therefore cautious. But it
tasted rather good though it could have been a little sweeter.
We sat on a bench next to each other and talked about music. In general
he and I liked the same things. Suddenly I felt his arm around my waist.
I twitched a little, but he ignored it.
What was I supposed to do now! Another boy has his arm around my waist!
I had too little experience with girls and with how they operated. Biene
had never had any objection if I put my arm around her. But Biene was my
first girl friend. I'd not yet experienced what a girl does when there's
something she doesn't want.
Finally he wanted to kiss me! This thought jolted me. That brought
unexpectedly the desired success: He looked at me in a confused way and
took his arm away. I smiled my thanks to him. Now the poor fellow didn't
understand anything at all.
When we went back in they were just playing a slow waltz. I was very
happy that we were in the normal dance situation and not as close as is
the rule for a slow dance in a disco. To be sure my knowledge wasn't
first-hand, but from the universal advice-giver for all teenagers for
decades: "Bravo" entertainment magazine.
Nevertheless he managed to pull me startlingly close. Just good that it
wasn't too dark, otherwise his hand would have still gone under my skirt
onto my backside... I think, I won't wear a thong any more. Actually I
should resolve not to wear any more skirts, then I wouldn't get into
embarrassing situations, but the thought didn't dawn on me for some
inexplicable reason.
But then something happened that was completely incomprehensible to me:
As the dance came to an end I suddenly missed his closeness. I had just
wished him on Mars, and now I missed him close up? What was the matter
with my head?
Naturally Kai noticed my behavior. Presumably he thought, he had come too
close to me. In any event my behavior apparently didn't seem too unusual,
because he simply accepted it.
##
A new year had begun; we experienced it outside so we could see the
fireworks. It was cold. I felt very uncomfortable on my naked upper
thighs. Naturally Kai stood next to me. Without actually intending to, I
moved nearer to him. One more glass of champagne as was customary at New
Year's reduced my anxiety about his nearness.
He seemed to like that. I felt his warmth, especially when he opened his
jacket and pulled it around both of us. The cold drove me to him.
Contentedly I snuggled myself even closer and drew every quantum of
warmth into me. Strangely enough just then I had to shiver. Kai took that
as an excuse to pull me in front of him. I allowed it to happen.
Mom was a ways away deep in a conversation. That's why she first paid
attention to me when I gave a little scream. Kai had kissed me! It was so
unbelievable that I needed a moment before I defended myself against it.
Or had I voluntarily opened my mouth? I cannot say. In any case it had
been his tongue in my mouth.
After my soft scream, which practically no one paid any attention to, I
ran inside as fast as my stilletos permitted. And then into the safest
place for girls: the ladies' restroom. Once there I broke out in tears.
Not because the kiss had been so terrible. No, because I didn't know how
I was supposed to adjust my behavior. I must have accepted the kiss
longer than I realized for otherwise his tongue wouldn't have gotten into
my mouth. And above all I must have opened my mouth. When did that
happen?
But I was much too upset to be able to think reasonably. Now I tried for
the first time to calm myself. After a minute the tears let up. But even
water resistant make-up only holds a certain amount of tears. In the
mirror I saw myself in the all too familiar raccoon Look.
At that time my mother came to me. She looked at me, didn't say a word,
but took me into her arms. This time it was not the warmth which drove me
into her embrace, but the search for a place of security.
Now restrooms are unfortunately not very intimate places. Above all
because many women wanted to go to the toilet after the fireworks.
Slowly Mom pulled my head upward and asked, "Well, are you OK now?"
I nodded. Speaking seemed just a little too hard for me.
"My first kiss from a boy was even worse. I bawled for hours."
Why do girls let themselves be kissed if it is so terrible?
##
When I woke up next morning, at first I didn't know whether everything
had been a dream. But piece by piece the memories returned. A boy had
kissed me!
Now I had time to think about it. Completely in the safety of my room.
Why had I allowed Kai to kiss me? There was no doubt I had let him. I had
snuggled up to him, so that he could scarcely reject the invitation. I
could comprehend that much.
Was the unaccustomed champagne the reason? In any case it had pushed
aside my inhibitions. Otherwise I would never have let things go so far!
Or? I wasn't so sure of myself. Somehow Kai had been attractive. He was
so tall, nothing could happen with him around. As much as I detested the
intimate closeness of another boy, I still wanted very much to be close
to Kai. I think I'm going nuts. No, I'm already there. It is not without
reason that I'm going to the psychologist.
Now I was enormously thirsty. And a little hungry, too. Breakfast was
out, it was already eleven.
I didn't know what I should put on. One second I wanted my old jeans
back, the next to put on my dirndl. Finally I just drew on my morning
robe.
Mom wasn't awake yet. It was seldom that I got up before she did. But it
didn't seem so bad that she wasn't there. Naturally she wanted to talk
with me about things, but I wasn't sure that I wanted to.
I made coffee. I needed something that to tear me out of this strange
mood.
The gurgling of the coffeemaker carried something meditative, and the
aroma of fresh coffee contributed a quality of its own. My well-being
took a great leap upward, even before I drank the first mouthful.
I sat on the couch with my legs in front of me and held the coffee mug
with both hands at my knee. Slowly I slurped the precious concoction. Bit
by bit I felt better and better.
When Mom came, she looked at me a little strange again. I couldn't see
myself after all, how I was sitting in night gown and morning robe in a
very feminine pose on the couch.
"Good morning," she said very affectionately. "How are you feeling?"
"Good." I didn't know what else I should say.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
I shrugged my shoulders. I really didn't know.
"The first kiss is always something special," she said softly.
"But it wasn't my first kiss," I protested. "I've kissed Biene a lot of
times already. And how do you know that anyway? I've never told you
anything?"
"Lipstick is very treasonous. And you might have already kissed as a boy,
but not yet as a girl."
"But I'm not a..."
She put a finger on my mouth and stopped me.
"For Kai you were a girl. And I think, you were feeling like one, too.
Otherwise things wouldn't have gone so far."
I looked at her helplessly.
"Without your permission there never would have been a French kiss."
"How...?"
"Didn't I just say: lipstick. And by that I mean the traces on Kai's
mouth."
I hadn't noticed. But at that moment I hadn't exactly been capable of
lucid thought.
"It always works the same way: The girl sends her invitation with body
language and the boy reacts to it. Up to that time the girl is the
driver, then the boy takes over. And young girls often aren't clear about
that. First they are in charge, at least they think so, and then suddenly
everything is turned around."
"But..."
Her finger was pressed against my mouth again.
"All that happens unconsciously; it's anchored in the genes. I watched
you and Kai."
I looked at her in astonishment. I thought she had been deep in
conversation.
"You pretty much snuggled up against him, right?"
"I was cold!"
"Yes, that's often the reason. Girls get cold easily, and boys give off
the warmth that is longed for. But would you have done that with one of
your pals? When you weren't yet a girl?"
I noted precisely that she said if I had not been a girl, not "brought up
like a girl."
I answered, "No, of course not."
"See. You acted exactly like a girl. Including the reaction afterward."
I didn't know what to say.
"After my first French kiss I ran away crying, too. I didn't know then
what I know today. If a person transmits the appropriate signals, he or
she receives a matching answer. Naturally teenagers don't think about-"
"And how!" I interrupted her.
"Yes, when it is too late. Thinking ahead seems impossible tor teenagers
to manage. In any case you sent the appropriate signals to Kai when you
nestled up to him."
"It was always so nice with you..."
"Yes, but with a boy it is always something very different. Then it
doesn't stay with snuggling. Your behavior is looked at as an invitation
to more. Even if you don't want it. In the beginning it's probably like
that with many girls - they don't want what they then get. Or at least
they're not conscious of it. My first kiss anyway was exactly like that:
I just wanted a little tenderness, but he wanted a lot more."
"But - I wasn't looking for tenderness."
"Are you sure of that?"
I thought about it, then shrugged my shoulders, since I couldn't come up
with an answer.
"You say you snuggled up to him just to find a little warmth. Actually
you should know better. How would you have reacted, had Biene done
something like that?"
I couldn't answer that. She was so right. I looked in shame at the floor.
"But I can retrace it. I did exactly the same thing. And there's never
been a teenager who listens to what he or she's been told. Only one's own
experiences count, above all the painful ones. I think, next time you'll
be more careful."
That was guaranteed. But what did she mean by next time? That would never
happen!
Why was I behaving just like something out of the textbook for female
teenagers?
After all I was a boy.
Kierra
- 13.04.2022
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