My First Apartment free porn video

First, a few comments: I apologize to the readers and fans of my unfinished story -"Surprised". I have, as they say, been "experiencing technical difficulties". My original intent was to do a series. Several things occurred which stopped me dead in my tracks. First, this is a format I just could not keep up with. What with Computer problems, a semi-major car crash, but most significantly, a story by another author which I felt was not only going where I had intended my characters to go, but did it far better than I. Oh, the pain! I have struggled to complete it ever since with limited success. Thank you for your patience. But parts 5 and 6 & 7 are near completion. Secondly, I also never acknowledged the work done by Vicky Tern in editing my stories. I apologize to her and you for this oversight. An omission I can only attribute to ignorance and/or my bruised ego. Finally, this story is mostly autobiographical except where it is not. Names have been changed, but 80% is true. OK, maybe only 60% . This story is intended for those over the age where such stories are deemed acceptable -- usually over 18. My First Apartment by Michelle Mikels The beginning - sort of I'm not sure when it began. I know that by age 10 or 11 I was dressing in my sisters panties and pantyhose. I soon added her bra, slip, shoes and a dress or a skirt and blouses. I was almost caught several times by my mom or sister. Once, when Cindy and my Mom came home hours earlier then expected, I had to run into the bathroom and pretend to be in the shower while I quickly stripped off Cindy's clothes. However, the closest call came when I was 13 and I had returned Cindy's clothes but they were not properly folded and were not where Cindy had originally placed them. She knew right away and accused me of snooping and going through her things and really made a big deal of it. After that, I laid low and resisted the temptation to dress for the next few months. Cindy would give me strange looks from time to time, till finally, after 3 months passed and as my birthday approached, she came into my room ( a very rare event) and sat down on my bed. Cindy was 5 years older than me and every boys wet dream. She had very nice legs and butt with a 34 C bust (I had worn her bra's after all, so I knew her size) and an angelic face. She looked a little like Sarah Michelle Geller but with bigger breasts. She is about 5'5" and weighs 118 lbs (I heard her talking to her friend, Ginny, on the phone). She attracted guys like honey attracts bears, and almost as aggressively. A fact which really pissed off my step-dad. "Listen you little pervert, I know you are going through my things again. The bra I just bought is all stretched out and I never wore it. The tags were still on it, now look." She pulled a black lace bra out from behind her back and thrust it in my face. A paper tag fluttered to the floor. "See! I know you wore this. If I ever catch you in my room or even think you are wearing my lingerie or clothes again I'll tell mom and dad, all of your friends, and everyone at school what a little perv you truly are. You understand me? Well?" I nodded.... "Yes,.... I understand," I muttered. "So, Bobby, are you gay or what?" she asked. I was too stunned to respond. I just stood staring at her. I did not know how to tell her that I just loved girls. Adored them, really. Their clothes, their hair, their smell, the way they moved and talked; I loved everything about them. I was jealous about he way they talked and made friends and acted toward each other. I wanted to look like, act like, and be one. So badly, in fact, that I prayed almost every night for a miracle that would change me. The one big problem I had was that I was extremely shy around them. Actually, it was more that, I was intimidated by their beauty and grace and the mystery of them. .It was all just too confusing. I was definitely not interested in guys. Was I? No. No, I wasn't. except.... I had seen a porno movie at my friend Paul's house last month and although I was excited, it is what happened later that cast doubt on my assertions that I was not interested in guys. I kept thinking about a scene where this beautiful blond girl slipped off her robe and walked naked up to a guy, her boyfriend or something. She walked up to him, knelt down, unzipped his pants and pulled out the biggest cock I had ever seen. He was at least 10 inches. Anyway, the part that got to me was she looked up at him and licked his cock and then slowly sucked him off. She was a great actress, as she moaned and groaned and really seem to love sucking him and then she swallowed his cum after he exploded in her mouth . She looked up at him, showed him her mouth filled with jizz and then swallowed it all; even licking him clean and scooping up the bits that escaped around her lips. The guys went wild watching that. But I just kept thinking that she was the lucky one not him. I wondered what it would be like to be her. For several nights afterward, I wished and dreamed that I could have been in her place. "Answer me, dam it, Bobby." I shook my head. "No! I'm not gay. OK? I like girls." "Then what the hell are you doing in my things? I'll just bet your wanking off aren't you? Is that how you get your jollies? Dressing up in my clothes and then ....No don't tell me. I don't want to know. Just make sure you stop or you'll be toast. You understand me?" With the threat hanging in the air, Cindy got up and left my room. I tried to avoid her for the next few days. It was not till 2 weeks later that she next appeared in my room unannounced and uninvited. "I have been doing some research Bobby. I think we need to talk." Cindy was much calmer now than the last time she was in my room. "I want you to tell me what is going on with you and dressing in my clothes. Do you wear mom's too?......... Well? I'm waiting. I want an answer or I start spilling the beans about your little.... hobby. " "No", I said softly. "Speak up. I can't hear you." "No," I said somewhat louder. "No what?" "No I don't wear mom's things. ...They're too big." "Do you know why you do it, Bobby? When did you start? The reason I ask is, that if you are... gay, I want you to know that I am OK with that and I will still love you. I just want you to stay out of my stuff. I want you to be happy, but I also don't want you taking my clothes anymore. You stained my best skirt and really ruined it. Soo...I will give you some things that you can keep, but I want you to stop wearing my stuff without asking permission first. I have a bag full of things that should fit you in my room. I was going to donate them to Good Will. But you can look through them and keep what you want. This is just between you and me. Mom doesn't know and I won't tell her, so you need to hide them if you want to keep this a secret." "Why Cindy? Why are you doing this?" I asked. "I have my reasons, but it is not to hurt you or embarrass you. Do you remember the guy that I dated a couple of times last year, Dave? He was kind of tall and really cute with long blond hair?" I remembered him, as he was the only blond guy that Cindy had dated and one of the few who actually talked to me. I shook my head. "I remember him," I said. "Well, we dated a few times but things didn't work out and although I liked him as a friend, it was obvious that we were never going to be more than that. He was real gentle and a nice person, but we just didn't click. Later, he told me he thought he was gay and had tried to commit suicide. I don't want to see you in the same position. You are a pain in the butt at times, but you are my little brother and I do care about you." I sat in stunned silence, not knowing what to say. Tears welled up in my eyes and I gave her a hug. I hugged her tight as tears rolled down my cheeks. She had never said such things to me and I loved her to death at that moment. She stoked my hair and tried to comfort me as I cried. Eventually Cindy got up and retrieved the bag of clothes from her room and came back with a large, black garbage bag. "You can keeps these if you want. But, I want you to stop taking my things. OK? If you decide to keep them you had better put them away so no one finds them, especially dad. He would kill you. You know how he can be." I nodded my head and said I would be careful. "Thanks Cindy. Thank you for the stuff and the warning and all the rest. I love you, sis." The following months were a delight. I was trying on and wearing Cindy's clothes in my room and around the house at every opportunity. I also started to use make up and got up the courage to buy my own at a sale in Macy's. I pretended the makeup kit was a gift for my sister and said her skin tone was like mine. The salesgirl was very helpful. Eventually, I even ventured outside one winter's night for a walk around the block. My folks were away for the weekend, Cindy was out on a date and I was left alone at last. I got dressed, fixed my hair, applied my makeup and headed out the door. I definitely looked pretty good and a lot older than 13. The feel of my stocking-clad legs as they swished together and the cold breeze up my skirt almost caused me to cum in my panties. I did get scared as a car filled with guys rolled slowly past me and I watched in fear as they turned around and made a second pass. This time the driver rolled down his window, whistled and asked if I wanted to party with them. I shook my head no and walked faster as I heard them laughing and drive away. I swore never to do that again. That lasted all of 24 hours, as I went out dressed the following night too. Cindy graduated from high school in June and moved out on her own. At eighteen, she was already engaged to a nice guy who was going to college. That left me all alone with no one to confide in or talk too. She did leave me a lot of her things though. Eventually, her stuff got to be too small as I was 5'7" and 138 lbs by my sophomore year in high school. Cindy was 5'5". Mom's things were still too big, except for the shoes. Although, I often made do with Cindy's bra's and panties and my mom's dresses and shoes. One Friday night, my mom came into my room and sat down on my bed. She patted a spot next to her indicating that I should sit. "Bobby we need to talk", she said. "You know that it is not nice to take things, even if is just to borrow them, without asking right?" I nodded my head in agreement. "Sure." I could not believe that I was busted again. Since my talk with Cindy, I tried to be super careful and always made sure I put things back as I found them. I never touched anything new and I never put stuff back, dirty or stretched out. "Well that is especially true of clothes like underwear, and you should never use anybody else's make up as it can become contaminated easily. Girls have to be very careful of old eye makeup especially, and they should never wear someone else's pierced earrings without sterilizing them. The reason I am telling you this is that I know that you have been wearing some of my things. Now... don't try to deny it. I knew someone was wearing some of my clothes and I used to think it was Cindy. But she's not living here now and still things are not put away as I left them. I want you to promise never to touch my clothes or things again without permission. I hope I have made myself clear." She then got up and walked out. Not waiting for my denial or even a response. It didn't matter that much. Since Cindy had moved on, I'd been without a source of clothes that fit properly, and I had no money. So my dressing up was drastically reduced. By the time I graduated high school I had a good part time job. However, my step-father was a real shit, and gave me three months to find a full time job and move out, since I showed no interest or aptitude for college. I didn't need any encouragement but what an a -- hole! Mom cried, but I knew that she would not, or could not, do anything. So, two months after graduation, I found decent full time job and a great apartment. The End of the Beginning.... On my Own The apartment was the top 2 floors of an older Victorian type house. It had 5 rooms, with lots of windows: 4 rooms on the second story and a fifth on the 3rd floor attic. There was also a locked storage area in the attic which was probably larger than the bedroom part of my apartment. Best of all, it was 35 miles from my parents house. Far enough away that they would not just stop by unannounced. The ground floor was occupied by a young couple, Ben and Marie. They had an infant son, Todd, who was 18 months old. The house was built at the turn of the century - the 20th -- so the rooms were large, but they had no real closets. It also had a lot of windows, four each in the living room, bedroom, and dining room, and two in the kitchen. The house was owned by an older couple in their 70's, and at some point it had been renovated by them, or by someone else without professional experience. However, it was clean, close to work, and best of all, it was affordable. Actually it was cheap. It was at least 50% cheaper than any other comparable rental that I looked at. I loved it the second I saw it, and fortunately I had enough in my checking account to offer them the security and first month's rent on the spot. I moved in a week later. I ran out that night and bought a bed and a couch and lots of curtains. Thank heavens for IKEA! Eventually, after unpacking my meager belongings I settled in, and I gradually added more furniture... a kitchen table and 2 chairs were donated by a friend's mother, and I found an end table and a coffee table discarded on the street. They were in pretty good shape, and after I refinished them I figured they would look pretty nice. I found an Armoire at a garage sale for $40. It needed work, as it was badly stained and scratched. Instead or refinishing it I painted it white and used it to hold my TV and a stereo. About a month after I moved in, I began to explore the upstairs room. I soon discovered gold. There, under the eaves, were several dusty boxes and an old suitcase. The first box I opened contained a skirt, several pairs of pants, four or five short sleeve tops, and two dressy type blouses. The second box contained a picture album, a high school year book, and a lot of junk that had probably meant something to the previous tenant. I put that to the side. The third box held several pairs of shoes, sandals, two pairs of heels (three inch), a couple of sweaters, and a pair of jeans. I opened the suitcase with heightened anticipation. I was not disappointed, as it contained lingerie (three bras, five bikini panties, one thong, two pairs of hipster panties, a half slip, a full slip, and two camisoles). Also stockings, pantyhose, a skirt, and two dresses. I was in heaven. I'd hit the wardrobe jackpot ... if it all fit. I immediately hauled it all downstairs and sorted it out. I spent the next several hours trying everything on. First I checked all the tags for sizes -- most were missing or had been removed. All were of good quality...originally. Some of the stuff was worn and tattered, but a lot looked new or hardly worn. The stuff in the first box was mostly not wearable... too small, especially the pants. Although the length was right, the fit was at least two or three sizes too small. I could get them on but not really zip them up. The skirt barely fit me, but surprise... all the tops fit, albeit somewhat snugly. The blouses fit ok, but they too were a bit tight. I put the pants back in the box and decided to keep the rest....I needed to lose some weight anyway. If I lost ten lbs they would probably fit great. The third box was better, the shoes fit, mostly. They were tight but wearable; same with the sweaters. The jeans I put in the discard box. Finally, I came to the suitcase. I tried everything on. The bras, like the blouses, were tight. One was looking a bit tattered, so into the discard box it went. The panties all fit like a glove, as did the three pairs of stockings, twos pair of thigh highs, and the pantyhose (three pairs). I decided to keep the slips and the camisoles, since they fit ok, a size too small, but workable. The real surprise was that both dresses fit perfectly, as did the mini skirt. One, a black dress, was made of cotton/lycra and had long sleeves, a scoop neck, and came to just above my knees. It was tight and very sexy. The other dress was short sleeved and had a V neck with a flare skirt that fell three inches above my knees. It was purple and was made of a micro fiber, and it too was very sexy looking. I had the beginnings of a new wardrobe and I had my very own LBD (little black dress)!! I was in heaven! Over the next few weeks I shopped using catalogues, and I also went out to the mall several times. Since the bras I found were 34 B's, I bought some size 36Bs from the Victoria Secret catalogue. Same with the tops I ordered. I also ordered a bustier, a corset, a garter belt, and several pair of panties from another catalogue that promised free delivery. I went out to Payless for shoes and bought a pair of girl's loafers, thinking that if size 81/2 was a bit tight, size 9 would be a good fit. After getting them home & trying them on, I went back out and bought 2 more pairs. This time I bought high heeled pumps on sale at Kmart . After my downstairs neighbors complained that my girlfriend made too much noise walking in her high heels on the bare wood floors at night; I assured them I would talk to her. I then went right out and bought carpeting at a store that specialized in remnants. I was also a lot more careful how I walked around the apartment. I did not stop dressing, I was just a little more cautious when walking around. I could not stop even if I wanted too in any case. Most weekends I would stay dressed all of the time, and I really got a lot better with makeup. Practice, lots of practice, and a "how to" makeup video helped bring Christine to a point where I thought she might pass in the outside world. I was, I decided, actually pretty. At 5'7 1/2" -- I stopped growing at age 15 -- I was down to 134 lbs, and I thought I could possibly loose another five lbs if I needed to. Of course my hips were too narrow, but that could be disguised with the right clothes I discovered. Same for the flat chest. In any case, I was soon leaving the house dressed as Christine whenever the Thompson's left for the weekend to visit their parents. This turned out to be about every couple of weeks. I loved being outside and feeling a breeze around my legs, especially when I wore stockings or pantyhose. I also loved the thrill of walking around and not being read as a guy, or even better, when guys gave me a second look. I loved looking pretty and feeling pretty too. At first I only went out dressed after dark, but as I gained confidence I went out during the day too. However, two incidents scared the hell out of me and forced me to make a choice -- get better at passing or give it up, though the second option was impossible, as I soon realized. I had always made sure I had a backup plan when I went out dressed and I tried never to be too obvious. One night, after going out to do some window shopping, I was driving home when I realized I had forgotten to put gas in the car. I was forced to stop at a nearby station on the way home. I tried to put on my "girly" voice and soon realized I had not fooled anyone. The attendant kept staring at me and kept washing the windshield over the driver's side. I soon realized he was staring at my legs. After getting $20 worth of gas, I pulled out just as he called his buddy over to point me out. I was really scared, and vowed to work on my voice, as I felt that was what had given me away. The second incident happened at the mall when I went into one of the larger department stores to check out a sale on blouses. I was going through a rack of blouses when I saw a group four or five of teen girls headed my way. I spotted them as the turned toward me. They were talking loudly, laughing and giggling. One of them pointed at me, and then they all focused their attention and starting whispering to each other. I took the opportunity to turn toward the exit. I knew that I had been made, but was not sure how, as I had been in and out of the junior's and woman's departments for an hour. I had never had a problem before, even when sales women approached to ask if I needed help. The girls followed me out into the parking lot to my car. I thought that they would stop me or call attention to me, but they just kept walking and pointing and giggling. I managed to start my car and I left in a hurry. The only conclusion I could come to was that one or all of the girls was super observant, or had her TV radar on high. I vowed to avoid teen girls whenever possible. The only faults with my Christine persona, I decided, was her voice and perhaps her slightly broader shoulders. I borrowed a video camera from work and set about taping myself. This helped immensely. While I didn't think l could pass muster in a long conversation, I did manage to soften the timbre and thought I sounded well within the range of normal girls. Not nearly as deep as -- say --Susanne Pleshette or Kathrine Hepburn, for example. I lacked the vocabulary and enough control to carry on a longer conversation or monologue. I also could now walk with just the right sway, but not too much wiggle. And with all the practice I gained a confidence that I thought showed in the way I moved my hands and held my head. The Beginning of the End... A whole new life. One Saturday afternoon, about two years after I had moved in, I was getting dressed and decided I would do some shopping at a mall. Macy's had a sale and I needed a new skirt and I loved just walking around. The Thompson's were away and I had the house to myself. I had taken a nice bubble bath and shaved my legs (I had started shaving them as soon as I'd moved in). I was excited because I had just received a new bustier I had ordered and could not wait to see how it looked on me. Pink, with white lace around the bodice and along the bottom edge and all along the straps and garters. I wiggled into it, pulling it up over my hips and settling it around my chest. I adjusted the straps over my shoulders and inserted my breast forms. Pointing my toes, I slowly pulled on black stockings. I rolled them up my legs and enjoyed their silky smoothness. I adjusted the garter straps dangling from the bustier and attached them to the stocking tops. My legs were always one on my strong features, too skinny for a guy but nicely shaped for Christine. I loved how they looked in stockings or pantyhose, especially in black, and I shivered in delight as my legs rubbed together as I stood up. I pulled on a matching pink string panty and tucked myself back so as to hide any unsightly bulge. Putting on a pair of pumps with three inch heels, I walked into the living room and turned on my stereo, the only really decent thing I owned besides Christine's clothes. As the music played, I sat down at my vanity, put on my chestnut brown wig, and started to apply my makeup. Foundation, black eyeliner, mauve eye shadow, 2 coats of mascara, pink blush, lip liner and a raspberry lipstick were all carefully and -- I hoped -- artistically applied. Just as I was about to add a little lip gloss to finish Christine's look, I saw someone standing in the bedroom doorway. I froze. It was Tom, my landlord's son. He had a cell phone in one hand and an envelope in the other. "I rang the bell but you didn't answer. The music is too loud, I guess. I tried knocking for a couple of minutes...so I let myself in. The rent was late and short again, and I came to give you notice." He waved the envelope around. "Finish getting dressed and we can talk in the living room. I'll turn down the music, OK Bobbi?.. Roberta?" During this entire exchange I was too stunned to speak or even move. "I'm Christine, I use the name Christine," were the first words out of my mouth. Tom turned and went to the stereo and turned it down low. "We need to talk then, Christine," he said from the living room. I got up and picked up the blue dress I had laid out. Panic almost overcame me and I could taste the bile in my throat as I tried to pull the zipper up in the back of the dress. A dozen excuses ran through my mind to explain why I was dressed the way I was. None were plausible or remotely believable. I debated getting changed back into boy mode. Fuck it, he had already seen me, there was nothing I could do. Besides he had said to finish getting dressed, not change, and then talk in the living room. I decide to do as he asked. After almost ten minutes I emerged from my bedroom on unsteady legs. Tom was sitting on the sofa looking at his cell phone when I entered and sat next to him. It was the only seat. "Technology is great," he said holding up his cell phone. These things can even take video now. Oh, don't look so distressed. This one can only take pictures, but I have several of you sitting at your vanity. Did you know that besides emailing them you can even send them to a web site? Amazing" "I don't know what you what," I stammered. "I don't have any money, so if you are going to try blackmail. I just want you to leave. I want...." "Shut up Christine. I did not come here to blackmail you. So, it is best for you to just keep that pretty mouth shut for now and listen. OK?" "But, what do you.... " "Shush! Hear me out. I promise I will not hurt you and maybe I can help. So just keep quite for a few minutes. Can you do that?" I nodded my head, and decided to let him speak. He held all the cards anyway. Maybe I could think of some way out of this in the meantime. I had nothing to lose by complying. "Good. I came over to give you this. It is a letter from my parents putting you on notice that they will start eviction proceedings if the rent is not paid in full. It gives you a week. But, since that is also the first of the month, the next month's rent is due as well." The city had raised everyone's property taxes six months earlier, almost doubling everyone's tax bill, so all renters in town had increases. There were law suits and it was big news locally, making the paper nearly every day for weeks. My rent had been increased by $200 per month. Although that made the rent higher, it was still way cheaper than what was average for the area, by a lot. Most one bedroom units started at $1000, if you could find one. In a nice area, it was close to $1400. But...I could not afford the new increase and had been struggling to make payments. "You have been late every month for the past four months and it gets later and later every month. My parents need to pay the mortgage and the tax increase. The rent they charge is outrageously low. I told them even before you moved in they should charge more, but they are old fashioned and they thought you would be a good, reliable tenant. They can't afford to have a slow paying or a nonpaying tenant." "I'm sorry, I just didn't have the money and my car needed repairs and...." "I know, things are tight all over. Well, while I was waiting for you to...finish getting dressed, I had an idea. You look very good by the way, very lovely. I almost didn't recognize you. At first I thought you might be Bob's girlfriend, but I did not see another car when I pulled in. And then I thought you looked familiar... like a sister maybe. Then it hit me. So, I thought, we could maybe help each other." "What do you mean, help each other?" "Just exactly that. You need to pay my parents $200 by the end of the week. Then you need another $750 for the next month's rent. That makes $950. Do you have $950? Can you get it by next Friday if you don't? " I shook my head no. "I might be able to in 2 weeks... 3 maybe" "Listen, I know what you make. I checked your references when you first started renting. I can do the math. Gas is up, food is up. Heat is up. And...it appears you are supporting two wardrobes. Girls' clothing is expensive. I know. Truth is, you don't make enough at that job of yours to absorb the rent increase, not without real sacrifices. Well, here is the deal. I'll pay my parents the $200 increase for this month, as a gesture of good will. You come up with the balance by Friday of $ 750, and then pay the rent on time every month after that. Or you can continue to pay the old rent of $550 and I would make up the difference out of my own pocket." "But why would you?" Then it hit me. I saw the look in his eye. His eyes glanced down at my legs. He wanted something in return and I was beginning to understand what that was. I was starting to get the idea. Tom turned to me, placed a gentle hand on my knee and leaned closer to me. An electric shock ran up my spine at his touch. I had never been touched while dressed. Hell, I never had been touched by anyone even when in boy mode. I was still a virgin, not by choice...not my choice anyway. His slow caressing of my stocking covered leg paralyzed me. I froze. His hand felt so good and I started to get an erection in my tight panties -- that was so unexpected. I placed my hand on his to remove it from my thigh. I think he got the wrong idea. "I am divorced. My wife left me for reasons I won't get into now. And I'm on a bit of a losing streak with women. I'm working close to 70 hours a week and don't have time to meet anyone right now. Did I tell you I am a leg man and you, Christine, have very nice legs and a very pretty face if I may say so. That is what gave me the idea. You look better than most of the women I have dated recently and really, better than my ex. I need .... Let's just say I have certain needs and if you will help with those once a week or so; I will help you with your rent problem. It is a win- win solution." "You want me to be...a...a whore? Your.... I can't! I won't !" "That is such an ugly word, Christine. I would prefer 'girlfriend' or 'friend with benefits'. I won't ask you for something that isn't given freely every day. " "Like what? I got up out of my chair. "I think you need to leave right now you ... You...you!" Tom rose from the sofa and started towards the stairs. "I'll leave, but I'll be back on Friday. Think about it. If the answer is no, you need to come up with the full rent money $ 750. I'm afraid the marshals will be here the following week if you don't come up with all the rent. Beside, I still have this." He held up his cell phone. "You definitely look hot so I'll email you copies later. Think about my offer. I hope you change your mind." As he passed me in the corridor he leaned over and whispered, "You look so sexy Christine. You have such kissable lips." He gently patted my ass on the way down the stairs. "Oh, and by the way, if you are interested in my ... proposal, be dressed the same way on Friday. Like I said I'll send you the pictures." I followed him down stairs and locked the door behind him. I was fucked! I ran upstairs and started to cry before I got half way up. I ran into my bedroom, stripped and got into bed. Not even bothering to wash the makeup off. I cried for hours until I finally fell asleep. I got up about 1 AM, washed my face and changed my pillow case. I started to soak the makeup soiled one and climbed back into bed hoping to somehow come up with a solution. Things weren't any better in the morning. Worse in fact. In my haste to get undressed I'd put a run in my new pair of stockings last night. I thought about calling my parents but soon dismissed that. Bill (my stepfather ) would never lend me the money nor permit my mom to lend it to me. Cindy was as broke as I was, so no help there. I spent Sunday trying to figure what I had to do. I had all of $143.85 in my checking account. I had no savings and my one credit card was maxed out. I got paid on Friday but my take home pay was only $424.53. My total in cash would come to $568.38 on Friday. I checked my wallet and pulled out another $37.00. My change added $2.78. I was up to just over $600. I ran to my car and pulled out $10.00 plus 60 cents in dimes out of the ashtray, I had or would have $618.76 by Friday. I reviewed my liabilities -- rent of course, my electric and gas bills were just paid. I owed the phone company $68.22. that was overdue 25 days. Car insurance was due next month, that was another $795.00. I was fucked, no doubt about it. A change of outlook- and new direction By Monday I was desperate and called home. My step-father answered, what luck. My mother was out of town visiting Cindy till Sunday. I asked for a loan and got the response I thought I would. No Way! That night I dreamed of the porn video I had seen with my friends so long ago. I woke up in the middle of the night with a raging hard on and thoughts of that huge cock. I could hear the girl moan and the slurping noises that she made while sucking, and the look of pleasure on her face when the guy came in her mouth. I came in my panties (I usually wore panties and a nightgown to bed while alone in the house) without ever really touching myself. I thought back to that and the conversation I'd had with Cindy on being gay. Did wanting to be a girl make me gay? If not, was dating a girl being gay? What if I dated a guy? If I went as Christine did any of the answers change? And if they did why? I decided I was one mixed up, fucked up kid. And none of this really helped with what I was going to do. Did it? I figured I had few options. Pay up everything. Give Tom's proposal a try. Wait to be evicted , or leave on my own before the eviction. That was four options. But where would I go if I just left? Home? That was pretty much out too. Where was my life going anyway. I wanted to be a girl, but I was afraid. I was a guy but liked dressing as a girl whenever I could. I liked girls but was still very intimidated by them. They were perfection that I could never achieve. I didn't like guys but was turned on by the thoughts of doing things with them while dressed as Christine. I was hopeless. I decided that I needed to talk to someone, and would call Cindy in the morning. After 2 hours on the phone with Cindy and my mom, the only real solid, practical advice that I got was to see a psychologist. I never told them of my money woes and how that was or was not connected to my sexual confusion. But I got lucky, very lucky. Not only did the county offer free psychological services, but there was an opening the next night. I had no illusions that one visit would make things clear but I felt better about talking it over with someone who was a disinterested third party. On Wednesday at 8PM sharp I walked into the senior center where the psychologist had an office. I was somewhat shocked to find out that, Dr. Janice Wening was not a senior citizen but a rather attractive 40 something. She laughed when she saw my surprise. "Everyone has made the same assumption based on where the office is located. The county gives this space to us for free. Services are available to anyone within the county. You must be Robert ....Lara? "Yes." I walked forward and shook her hand. "I'm Janice Wening, So, Robert, why are you here?" "I prefer Bobby rather than Robert, and I think I might be gay, but I'm not sure." "Not sure you are gay or not sure what to do about it if you are?" "Both, I guess." I went on to explain about Christine, and my love of getting dressed up, and my shyness around girls. I told her about the video and my reaction to it (in non explicit terms), and the questions I had about dating, and then about possibly dating as Christine. I was confused by the possible combinations. After almost 2 hours I left with more questions than answers. But I did leave with some facts, and with the thought that I was not alone in my confusion, and that whatever I did, or did not do, nothing at this stage was permanent A decision to do or not do something was not a lifetime commitment. I agreed to come back the following week, and left feeling exhausted and confused, but better about myself and the future. I guess Dr. Wening did Ok.. Friday evening I got dressed exactly as I had been last week( sans dress) and waited for Tom to stop by for his check. If I smoked I would have smoked a pack of cigarettes, waiting for him to show. I was a bundle of nerves, and not at all sure what I was doing. I wanted to pack up and leave. At six, the doorbell rang and I walked slowly downstairs to open it. I felt like a condemned man on the long walk to the death chamber. Tom greeted me with a warm hello and smiled as he noticed my makeup, red nails, and high heeled, sling back pumps. I turned and he followed me upstairs. I felt his eyes on my kimono covered ass the entire time. By the time I turned around in the living room I could see his stiffening cock in his slacks. He reached for me and gently slid the silk kimono from my shoulders. I stood before him dressed in the pink bustier, matching string bikini panty, black stockings, and my black pumps. I had rushed home from work, showered, powered and perfumed myself, painted my toe nails, and applied the fake finger nails with care. My brunette wig was brushed and styled and my makeup was flawless. It took me over 2 hours but I thought and felt I looked pretty dam good. "Oh my god, you're beautiful," he said as he caressed my shoulders and pulled me closer. I knew what was coming so it was no surprise when he kissed me softly on the lips. The scene from the video replayed in my head and I felt myself getting excited. "You smell great! What is that perfume your wearing Christine?" "It's called Red Door and it is nice, isn't it? It's expensive, but I love it." "I assume that you agreed to the proposal I emailed you on Wednesday, since you're dressed as I requested. Are you Ok with this? If you are; I want to hear you say it." "I'm not OK with it Tom, but I really don't have any options. So yes, I've agreed to your proposal." "Tell me specifically and in detail what you agreed to do, Christine. I want to hear you say it." Tom took out a small recorder and pressed the record button. "It's just for my protection. I don't want you to claim later that I raped you or physically forced you, Christine. Go on, tell me what you have agreed to, Christine." With some trepidation I started to speak but my mouth was dry and I seemed to have trouble forming the words. " I...I ...agreed to,.. to go out with you on dates occasionally and to ... to ... service you at your request at least once a week." I was trembling when Tom took my hand. "And by 'servicing me' did you mean orally? That you would suck my cock, Christine?" "Yes, Yes, I agreed to give you a blowjob Tom, at least once a week in exchange for keeping my rent the same. That is what I agreed to do." "Are you being forced Christine? Have I physically forced you into this agreement" "No. No Tom, I have not been physically forced." I had just agreed, on tape, to be a whore. The thought both excited me and repulsed me at the same time. With that, Tom became more aggressive and pulled me tight against him. He lifted my chin up and kissed me again. This time the kiss was passionate and I sucked on his tongue as it entered my mouth. I felt his hardness against my belly as his tongue explored my mouth and his hand moved lower and squeezed my panty covered ass. I had never been kissed like this. I almost swooned. I felt like my knees would buckle at any moment. Tom placed his hands on my shoulders and gently pushed. I knew what he wanted. My moment of truth had arrived. But I had already made the decision. I would suck his cock and would do so at least once a week. I stepped back from him and knelt at his feet, prepared to carry out my end of the bargain. Kneeling, I looked up into his eyes as my hands found his zipper. I struggled a bit, as I had never done this before, and with my nails in place it was more difficult than I had imagined. I pushed his hand away without a word, and after a few seconds I pulled the zipper down. I reached into his pants and struggled again for a second or two to pull his warm pole free. He was huge, not the ten inch monster from the video but much bigger than my 4 inches, both longer and thicker. What hit me first, what I was not prepared for, was the smell. Very musky. That and the heat and how soft his now erect cock felt in my hands, these were a complete surprise. I almost pulled away. The smell was just too...too strong and I was repulshed momentarily. But I thought again that this was what girls do and I was dressed and acting like a girl. I looked closely at the warm cock in my hands, the large sponge like head that was just seeping a drop of precum. I was mezmerzed and brought it closer, the smell no longer seemed as strong. The contrast between his large, purple cock and my slender fingers with their polished fingernails was stunningly erotic. I was suddenly overcome with lust and just had to taste this beautiful cock as my slender fingers gently stroked his throbbing organ. I could not take my eyes off of it as I guided the head into my mouth with the tips of my fingers. I sucked the soft head into my mouth and let my tongue play with it for a few seconds. I pulled it out and looked up at Tom, who was watching me intently. I smiled, licked my lips, and softly kissed the head of his cock, leaving a bit of lipstick on the tip. I licked it up and down a few times to get his hard shaft wet, then while looking into his eyes I sucked him back into my hot mouth. Tom placed a hand on the back of my head and gently urged me to take more. I did my best until I started to gag. I had taken about half his length, but thought I could do better. I tried to pull Tom's pants off, but stopped when I realized his shoes were still on. I removed them and the pants and gently directed him to the couch. Tom sat and spread his legs as I crawled between them and directed the throbbing organ back into my mouth. I went back to work sucking and slurping and trying to suck as much of him down as I could. The image of the porno film formed briefly in my mind. This time I was the woman giving the man a blowjob. I felt like a total slut and I loved it. I loved the way his cock tasted and I loved the feel of it between my lips and in my mouth. I could not get enough and started to moan as his hard meat pushed its way down my throat. When I started to gag, Tom would pull back briefly and then push in again. The third time I started to swallow him I tried breathing through my nose. That proved to be the key, and I found myself with all but an inch or two in my mouth. I looked up at him again. His eyes were closed and he was moaning to himself and softly calling my name. He must have sensed my eyes were on him as he looked down to return my stare. I loved having a warm, hard cock in my mouth and sucked him as far down as I could. Tom held my head in place and started to fuck my face. For the next several minutes he kept driving his hard meat into my mouth until I could feel his wonderful organ begin to throb. "That is sooo ....fuck...ing... goood, Christine. I'm going to cum in your mouth. I.. Want.. To... Cum... In... Your .... Fucking.....Mouth. Oh my god, you... suck... cock... so good .Youfuckinglittlewhore, eat..my....cum. Eat it you little bitch. I want you to swallow every drop." ... He grunted and watched me as his cum squirted down my throat; his hands holding my head in place. I had most of his stiff cock in my mouth but pulled back some as spurt, after spurt hit the roof of my mouth. The thick cream coated my tongue and throat and leaked out around his hard shaft. I swallowed as fast as I could and almost choked several times. I swallowed five powerful squirts. His salty, slightly bitter ejaculate coated my mouth. I licked my lips clean and then sucked his softening rod back into my mouth to clean it of any remaining residue. I loved it. I loved sucking his cock! This realization shot through me and I came in my panties without ever being touched. I loved sucking his hard prick. I was a cocksucker and suddenly proud of it. OH... my... god.... I was a whore, and I felt I had finally found myself. I loved being on my knees with a hard cock in my mouth. Tom pulled up his pants, zipped them up, put his shoes back on, and started to walk out on shaky legs. Turning, he looked back at me as, still kneeling, I slowely licked my fingers clean making a show of it. I wanted to demonstrate how much I loved sucking his cock and tasting his sperm. To show him how much of a whore I could be. His whore. "That was amazing, Chrissy. The best blow...the best I ever had. I was not prepared for that." He opened his wallet and placed a couple of bills on the stereo. "You more than held up your end of the deal. Just mail the rent. I'll cover the increase. I'll be back next week, probably on Tuesday. I'll call you." Twenty -five minutes after he arrived, Tom left. My life was headed in a direction I never would have predicted when I first moved in. Flowers arrived on Saturday and Tom called on Sunday to tell me he would be over again on Friday. Tuesday was out, and he apologized. The End ... A New Job, a New Life. This whole episode changed me forever; in ways I had yet to understand. In order to keep my sanity, I decided to keep my appointment with Dr. Wening on Wednesday. However, she referred me to another Psychiatrist who specialized in sex & gender issues. I made an appointment with Dr. Phyllis Dent for the following Monday and every other Monday after that. When I left after my fourth session I had a diagnosis and 2 prescriptions for hormones and a hormone blocker. I decided to start the hormones at once, as I really wanted my very own breasts and a more feminine appearance. Tom showed up every week, sometimes twice a week. As I gained confidence, we even started to go out. Like on a real date! I realized that I enjoyed being on my knees with a hard cock in my mouth, and once a week was just not enough for this gurl. I found I also loved that I could get a man hard with just a word or gentle touch, sometimes with just a look and a slow lick of my lips. I discovered, like countless teenage girls, that I had power. Power to turn a guy on and power to make him cum. He did not know it yet, but Tom had created a monster. I soon found myself going out to "friendly" bars a couple of times a week. I would pick up men or allow myself to be picked up. Often I would just go outside the club to their car and we would neck and I would suck them off in the parking lot. Sometimes we would go to a cheap hotel where we could take our time, and I would suck their cocks and watch myself in the mirrored closet doors. I really loved that. Watching myself in a mirror, sucking a stiff cock, was the most exciting thing imaginable for me. But the chance of getting caught in the car while I had a hard cock in my mouth did definitely enhance the experience as well. Men frequently paid me...er ...tipped me for a good blowjob. The first time a guy gave me $20.00 I was thrilled and hooked. This motavated me to dress and become a more obvious slut. One month I made almost $600 in "tips" for something I was willing to do for free. Only four months after giving Tom that blowjob I began dressing up just about every day. In fact, the only time I was in boy mode was at work. I shopped, went to the laundermat, food shopped, and had the car serviced all as Christine. Ben and Marie, my downstairs neighbors, moved out in August (they bought a house in the next town), and Tom offered me the downstairs apartment and a job as an executive assistant ... to him. I turned down the offer of the apartment, but took the job as Christine. Tom also offered to pay for implants, but I just wanted to try "natural" first. My new job is great. I'm making more money and have more responsibilities. I like my coworkers and my coworkers like Christine. Best of all, several times a week I can go into Tom's office, close the door, and get on my knees. Mmmm fresh, warm cum for lunch if I want it. I know Tom wants me to move in with him, mostly because I am such an enthusiastic cocksucker who gives him the best blowjobs he's ever had, and he loves my tight little ass. But I hate to give up going out at night whenever I feel the need for cock. So, for now , I'll keep my beautiful first apartment until I fill out my bras, and then I'll think about my options. Tom and I both know he is not "Mr. Right," but for now he'll do. He's fun, and has a nice size cock that he knows how to put to good use, and is very, very generous. The End