Cocksucker Blues
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Lipstick Blues free porn video
Lipstick Blues by Peggy Sue
It all started at the Jewish Community Center. There was a pageant and I
was Moses receiving the 10 Commandments. There were lots of 12 and 13-
year olds in the pageant and we were assembled beforehand when suddenly
there appeared a young man and women in our midst who were putting
lipstick on everyone and rubbing a little of it on our cheeks.
My heart filled with terror and I didn't know why. I saw that people had
lined up in front of the man and the woman was going around making up
those who weren't in the line. I saw that the woman was putting the
lipstick on heavier so I got in the man's line. When he painted my mouth
I could have died, my heart was pounding so hard. Later one of the other
boys went to the woman and asked that his lipstick be put on darker
which she did. Why didn't I do that too? I was entranced and terrified
but the terror won.
I couldn't remember all the commandments because my heart was making too
much noise.
When I got home the first thing I said to my mother was, "They put
lipstick on me."
She answered, "You look nice."
So I ran off to the bathroom where she kept her lipstick and tried it
on. It was even more terrifying so I washed it off quick. Then I missed
it so I put it on again. That was terrifying so I washed it off. After a
little while of this my lips were sore from scrubbing so I had to stop.
When my father came home they noticed the lipstick residue in the soap
dish and he made humiliating remarks. That was the last they ever heard
about my new obsession.
For obsession it was. I searched out and tried on every lipstick in the
house. I knew where my mother kept her new ones and her old ones, knew
she was wearing Revlons and Hazel Bishops and a whole lot of others
whose names had rubbed off. I especially liked to raid her purse when it
was lying on the stairs, put on the lipstick in her purse, and dash
upstairs to the bathroom to wipe it off. If it didn't wipe right off I
scrubbed it off. I especially liked the ones that had to be scrubbed
off, shows how perverse I was.
A few weeks after the pageant I met Mary. Mary was a little short blonde
about a year younger than I. Mary had been at the pageant too - she was
the one who missed her lines when I didn't say all 10 commandments. "Why
were you so scared?" she asked. I denied it and she scoffed at me. "My
mother always has Truth Time when she thinks I'm in trouble. She says if
I don't tell her the truth then she's not sympathetic when I later get
in trouble. So Truth Time - what's going on?"
What the heck. I was in hot water anyhow. It couldn't get worse. So I
told her everything. Unexpectedly I felt better and I agreed to come to
her house to continue the conversation.
Immediately she produced a dark red lipstick and put it on. She kissed
me gently and rubbed my lips with her finger, told me I couldn't rub it
off. When we got to her house she handed me the lipstick. My knees were
shaking but I put it on. Mary stared at me, walked around me, then shook
her head and kissed me lightly again. We sat down to talk. She wouldn't
let me rub it off, and after we ate some milk and cookies she made me
touch it up.
Then Mary's mother came home.
I was about to run for the bathroom in terror but Mary sat on my legs
and wouldn't let me. So in came her mother. She took in the situation at
a glance and sat down with us. "Mom my friend has a problem."
"I'll say he has a problem - that's the wrong color for him. You can't
put the same color lipstick on a black-haired boy as you put on a blond
girl." She went out and came back with another lipstick and a tissue.
"Here, blot that off and put on this one." It was a rich bright pink
that really did look a lot better on me, and she looked satisfied. That
put me at my ease, and when Mary's mother said "OK, Truth Time." I
spilled the whole thing easily.
"This is a big problem," she said, "Problems always feel better on a
full stomach." So she made us grilled cheese sandwiches and called my
mother to say where I was. She said not a word about what we were doing.
Afterwards she handed me the lipstick again and motioned me to the
mirror to touch it up.
I touched it up. We sat for a while talking about nothing particular and
then it was time to go. Mary's mother handed me some cream and a tissue
to wipe up then looked at me and hugged me gently. I felt warm all over
and not a bit scared any more. "You'll do," she said, "now not a word
of this to anyone else, both of you." Mary and I nodded our agreement.
Mary kissed me gently and I went home. I couldn't believe my good luck.
Here I'd found two great friends - one of them even a grownup! - and my
greatest terror was now a much smaller terror, so I thought.
I was to find out a lot about terror in the next few years.
After that first meeting Mary was my best friend. We went everywhere
together. When we were at her house I always wore lipstick and there was
never a problem. I was refusing to get haircuts which was weird enough
for my parents, but I was glad to have something for them to complain
about that didn't terrify me. Mary's mother and my mother talked on the
phone and she tried reassurance about the harmless things kids go
through. It helped little, but I was adamant. Mary's mother even trimmed
it into a unisex style and I couldn't be accused of being a mess.
For a while that's all it was, just lipstick and long hair, but one day
Mary was wearing mascara and so I had to try that too. How lovely! The
pretty girl in the mirror blissed me out. My little cock got so hard
that Mary couldn't miss it, and she said "Truth Time, show me what
you're doing." She had showed me the little buds growing on her chest so
I had to fess up. We both stared at the little wonder which only made it
harder and longer. Finally she got down on her knees and kissed it,
leaving a big red mark. "That's for later," she said and meant it.
Then we went back to our usual talk.
When Mary's mother came home that day she saw the mascara right away and
made sure I knew how to take it off safely.
But Halloween was coming and I wanted to be a girl. I didn't really want
to be a girl - being a boy was enough of a problem - I just wanted to
wear lipstick, and (it must have said in some Bible somewhere that) only
girls wore lipstick, so for Halloween I wanted to wear lipstick so I had
to be a girl.
There had to be some training.
Mary's clothes fit me OK except that her skirts were a little short. One
day Mary's mother came home with a training bra for me. When I put it on
I turned beet red but I had to go on with it, so soon I was dressed in
the cutest blouse with shorts and all my makeup with my hair tied up in
a ribbon. I was skipping around the floor with my little cock sticking
straight up and making all sorts of cooing noises.
Mary's mother must have noticed my boner because she suddenly remembered
a previous engagement so Mary and I were alone. She was all aroused too
so we shared our first orgasms by kissing each other's privates, and
then we just sat around beaming at each other. Of course we fixed our
makeup. Sometime later Mary's mother magically reappeared and made lunch
and then we talked a little about my progress and what I wanted to do.
She agreed that she'd buy me some outfits at the Salvation Army that
wouldn't cost much, and I'd make up the cost by doing housework. The
only sticking point was that I had to dress in my girl-clothes while I
was doing the housework, so then the clothes would know what they were
for.
Somehow I missed the logic of that, but Mary's mother was so trusted by
now that anything she said went. So sometime in my visits I'd put on my
bra and panties and a pretty blouse and shorts and lipstick of course,
and then I'd wash dishes or dust books or vacuum rugs.
When I got back to my own house I offered to do these things for my own
mother which she liked very much. I couldn't wear lipstick in my own
home, but any peace I could make was acceptable, because my long hair
was causing a lot of ripples.
For Halloween I got my first skirt.
It was all sorts of bright colors with swirls and stripes and only cost
a dollar and it looked super with a bright orange blouse and orange
lipstick, and I was in heaven. When my mother saw me she nearly laid an
egg. She came to Mary's house to see us dressed and Mary's mother made
her tea and talked mother-talk. My mother even insisted on paying the
dollar which was alright and if she suspected what was really going on
she never said a word. She liked the lipstick I was wearing - Mary's
mother told her it was an old one of hers and my mother never considered
that the shade I was wearing wouldn't have stayed on Mary's mother's
lips for 2 seconds, but that was the way she was.
Let me tell you this - my family was really a bunch of sweet and crazy
people who loved me a lot, but they had no imagination about what life
might be like outside their own little family island. And I didn't live
on that island any more. I was going to take as long as I could to tell
them where I actually lived, because there'd be hell to pay if they
found out too soon or in the wrong way. It wasn't just lipstick that led
me off their island but religion and politics and what kind of job a man
could do that we could at least argue about, whereas lipstick would have
put me completely off their map.
So Mary and I went out trick-or-treating, with me dressed as a pretty
teenage girl and her dressed as a swashbuckling pirate. I don't know
which of us was more scary.
One door we knocked on had a couple of teenage boys behind it. What they
must have seen was 2 pretty teenage girls, one dressed as a pirate, the
other dressed as herself. So we were invited in. Next thing I knew I was
sitting on a couch with some strange boy's arm around me. If he hadn't
stunk of cigarettes I probably would have let him stick his tongue down
my throat just to see what it felt like. But he did so I didn't. We left
soon. We were hoping for another more acceptable pair of boys but it
didn't happen. Sigh.
Afterwards we spent hours kissing each other in all kinds of private
places. Mary's mother magically disappeared as usual for our sex play.
She never even cautioned us about not getting preggers - probably Mary
had all those cautions already down.
In case you think that Mary's mother's magic was all of a feeling type,
here's a completely magical incident that happened one day.
Mary and I were hanging out at her house one day when Mary's mother came
home. "Come with me to the Magic Beauty Parlor," she commanded in her
gentle way, so I came with her.
We got in the car and drove to a desolate street where there was a
little copper hut surrounded by debris. The hut was about 10 feet square
from the outside so I expected a little one-room place. But once inside
there were large rooms and endless-feeling corridors. That was just the
beginning of the magic. I never questioned how it could be that this
could happen because it was all wonderful, and I was afraid that
questioning would stop the wonder.
Two women in the vestibule recognized Mary's mother and waved us
through. They seemed to recognize me too. The way things happened inside
is we went down a corridor that seemed blank. We'd turn a corner and
there was the next place. I thought that the place appeared just because
we were thinking of it, and no one told me otherwise. So partway down
the first corridor we turned left and found ourselves in a room crowded
with makeup.
A 30ish man with a pleasant face greeted us by name. Somehow I knew his
name was Eddie. "So," Eddie said to me, "you'd like to learn about
makeup. Please sit down." I sat in a large chair and Eddie tied a cloth
napkin at my neck and started testing color samples at my face. At
length he made a sound of satisfaction. "Here we are, the perfect
lipstick," he said, "the exact right shade for your skin, feels waxy
when you rub your lips together but doesn't come off on anything, lasts
all day but comes right off when you want it to." And he painted my lips
with this wonderful scarlet color with just a hint of taste. The girl in
the mirror was very pretty.
Eddie hummed tunelessly and then emerged with a tube of mascara in his
hand. "This will do just right for you, color with no texture, makes
your lashes black and separate but doesn't look like makeup at all,
won't come off if you cry or wash your face, then comes right off when
you want it off." The girl in the mirror got even prettier. Eddie also
came up with red and coral shades and a bunch of others. Thanking Eddie,
Mary's mother and I moved on, she carrying a small box filled with
makeup.
We were back in a long featureless corridor, then turned a corner to a
room full of wigs. A dark brown pageboy was just perfect for me. The
girl in the mirror was so gorgeous that I had a boner. Mary's mother
held my hand for a while and my boner relaxed, and we walked on.
At a twist in the next corridor there was a fingernail room. I picked up
a bottle of nail polish and a little animal jumped off the shelf and ran
into the corner. "What was that?" I asked, startled. "A toad," she said,
"that's what happens in here when you pick up something that's not good
for you. I think we'll skip the nail polish for now." Which was alright
with me.
The next corridor went on for a while and then turned into a room full
of clothes. She picked up a bra and tried it on me. It had just a hint
of padding so that I looked like I had the buds of little-girl boobs.
She picked up several of the bras and a few sets of panties. There were
tables piled with shorts and shirts and a few fancy blouses, most of
them in bright colors. There were a few skirts and dresses. She helped
herself.
I asked how she knew my size. She said "Everything here is your size,
that's how this place works." I put on a fuchsia cotton blouse and some
purple shorts. The beauty of the girl in the mirror started my heart
pounding. I had to sit down for a minute. I tried to pick up some nylon
stockings but there was a toad under them so I let be.
"I think that will do for now," she said with a twinkle and we walked
out onto the street where her car was still sitting. The tiny copper hut
mocked my rational mind. "What is that place?" I asked, "and could I go
there alone?" "You wouldn't find it," she answered. "Someday when you're
much older you'll find it by yourself, but it won't be just girl-stuff
you'll be after."
And that was all she'd tell me.
When we got back home, Mary was delighted to see my booty. She knew we'd
been to the copper hut - she'd been there herself with her mother - and
she knew as little about it as I did. But she knew exactly what to do
with my boner.
Mary's mother's name was Claire but I never called her that. I usually
called her 'Mom' because that was what she felt like, but Mary's mother
was a more accurate name than Claire so I'll go on calling her that
despite the semantic awkwardness. I never said much about what she
looked like because I was busy telling you about other things. So let me
say something now.
Mary's mother was tall - about 5-9 - and pretty, very pretty. She
dressed in an enormous range of outfits, hair styles and makeup, as
opposed to my mother who was also wonderful to look at but very
predictable looking. One day she'd wear a tight sexy dress that made the
most of her petite figure, and another day she'd wear a baggy sweater
and jeans that showed nothing - and every kind of outfit in between. She
always wore lipstick, but all the women did in those days. One day her
lipstick was bright and sassy, and another day it was subtle.
Whenever she got a new brand she always had me try it on so I could know
how it tasted and felt. Even though she treated me as though I was sane
and stable, she had no illusions about how crazy I was, and she knew
that I'd sniff it out if she had a new lipstick and try it on anyway so
I might as well do it in front of her. If I liked the taste and feel of
the new lipstick she'd get one in my shade and it would add to my little
personal pile in Mary's drawers.
Believe me when I say that there were a lot of lipsticks in that drawer!
I had Revlons and Hazel Bishops of course because I had to have
everything of my mother's, but I also had Estee Lauders, Elizabeth
Ardens, Cliniques, Macs, Prescriptives, Almays, Cover Girls, and about
anything else you could name. I also had Coty 24s that I loved the taste
of but I could never wear because they were so hard to get off.
I didn't stay talking about Mary's mother for long, did I?
Mary's father was killed in the war, and we always spoke of him with
reverence. I wished I had met him.
All these stories have a Halloween theme and they all have someone's
aunt in the country where being a girl for a weekend was a lot more
possible than it is around home. Mary's aunt Freddie was such a person.
Freddie was Claire's sister and she was another cool lady who somehow
knew how to help me with what I was doing even though I didn't have a
clue myself.
Aunt Freddie had a husband named Bill who was one cool dude. So Freddie
usually dressed very sexy because it kept Bill's eyes at home where she
wanted them. Even before I got started going to Freddie's house as a
girl, I would go there as Mary's boyfriend and go fishing with Bill,
hanging out for hours and talking guy things on some pier just
nonchalantly piling up a peach basket full of flounder or catfish for
everyone's supper. My mother was included in the fish-dispersal, so she
already thought well of Bill and Freddie. So did my father who liked
Bill well enough.
I probably would have liked my father more if he was just someone's
uncle because he was really an admirable man. But he had his program for
who I was going to be, and I was dead set against his program, so that
made a wall between us. Bill had no programs for anyone.
When Mary's mother suggested that I go to Freddie's house as a girl it
seemed the most natural thing. I wondered why we never thought of it
before.
That first weekend as a girl was the most exciting thing! Mary and her
mother laid out several outfits which was all fine by me as long as
there were plenty of bright colors. I spend all my time picking
lipsticks to go with the outfits. I brought along a whole box of
lipsticks so I could put them on and take them off and wear different
ones at different times of day.
When we got to the country I was a boy but I didn't stay that way long.
Mary and her mother and Freddie had me in a skirt and blouse and
lipstick right away. My hair wasn't really long enough to style yet but
I had my pretty wig. I had socks and Mary Janes.
Now I was a presentable girl. I was actually pretty. First Mary and I
disappeared for a while to work off the sexual appetites all this
dressup had spawned, then we were off to tour the nearby towns and get
into trouble. Mary wanted me to find out how much trouble it was to be a
pretty girl! And I wanted to feel what it was like to shop for lipstick
by myself.
There were a couple of boys in one shop who started following us around.
They smelled OK so we egged them on. The one following me was kinda cute
so I changed my lipstick to one that would leave a mark on him. I even
flicked my tongue around his lips a little which he liked a lot but
wouldn't you know it gave me a boner so I had to run off to hide it,
with Mary shrieking with laughter in my wake.
The lipstick store was a picnic in paradise.
I was only going to buy one, but it felt like I tried on hundreds,
preening in front of the mirror like a Barbie doll trying on new
sweaters. The salesgirl must have felt we were like her daughters
because she had endless patience with us. In the end the one I bought
was a beautiful color but exactly the wrong kind - smelly and sticky and
expensive and impossible to get off. But what's the sense of behaving
rationally when you have a license to do the opposite?
Freddie and Bill had to hear about all our adventures, and then we
decided to go to a dance. I didn't have any kind of fancy device to hide
my boner but Bill loaned me a jockstrap that would do.
We spent the whole night of dancing getting our asses felt up and our
mouths kissed, so we were very aroused by the time we got home. We
stripped naked, washed off our makeup, and lay on the bed kissing each
other all over. Afterwards Mary asked me if I liked getting kissed by
boys. I said it sure seemed so. She asked if I wanted to do more than
that and I didn't know. I liked playing at being a girl, at least for a
little, and girls liked kissing boys, so why not. But to be a boy
kissing boys seemed beside the point. And I could imagine sucking some
boy's cock if I was a girl but not if I was a boy.
The next day I was back to dressing as a boy because we wanted to go to
a movie and Mary wanted me to feel her up and kiss her the whole time,
which was more convenient if I was a boy. She promised that I could
taste her lipstick any time and so she did. So I did too.
So that was my first weekend at Freddie's. There were lots more. One
weekend one of the boys I was kissing put his hand right on my boner. I
thought I was in big trouble but he put my hand on his boner and we went
on kissing. Eventually we did suck each other's cocks. I loved the taste
and feel of his cock in my mouth. I loved the way he looked at the
pretty girl in front of him. But when he looked at the boy whose cock he
was sucking I was bored.
But I was getting bigger, growing big boy-muscles and hair on my face,
so that even though I wanted to wear lipstick as much as ever it made
less and less sense. The girl in the mirror stopped looking gorgeous and
started looking awkward. I was seeing less and less of Mary.
Meanwhile, I got good at school to the point that my father was trying
to send me to the same school he went to. I had to fight him about it.
Finally I won by getting a scholarship to the school I wanted. That was
so big he had to accept it. He was a good loser, I'll say that for him.
But when I went to Mary's house to tell her what happened a funny thing
happened.
Instead of a house there was an empty lot where her house used to be.
There was a weird sense of desolation over everything. It was as though
the house had never been, that she and her mother had never been.
In truth I never saw Mary or her mother again. I did find the copper hut
again but that's another story.
Stevie
- 12.07.2021
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