Becoming Suzanne A Woman s Journey
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Becoming Suzanne -- A Woman's Journey, Part 3 free porn video
Part 3
Becoming Suzanne - A Woman's Journey
The project took a couple of weeks longer than expected, but everyone
was very happy with the results. To mark the success, the prime
developer rented out a slick new restaurant on the lower East side and
everyone who'd been involved was invited. That meant nearly a hundred
writers, directors, media people -- a heavy dose of "creatives" and a
few business types all mixed together. It would be a great way to blow
off the pressure of the past few months.
A few days before the party, Suzanne had a 'closing' meeting with her
client. It was scheduled to happen in one of the porticos in the lounge
of the Mid-Town Westin. That was a good sign. The corporate offices
were more formal and often a little contentious.
Suzanne had changed a lot in the past few months. Her girlfriend Julie
had been such a powerful catalyst in helping to shape who she was. Not
that she was really her "girlfriend", per se.
Julie had had a number of girlfriends in her life. Her first was her
freshman year at RISD, the preeminent design school in Providence.
She'd been a very creative, successful student in H.S. She was pretty
and popular in artistic circles and was very mature for her age. She
didn't date much.
Julie was nearly 17 when she first had sex. It was with a handsome,
sensitive, older, married man who happened to be the photographer at her
first internship. It wasn't that she preferred lesbian sex now over
hetero, they both had a wonderful place in her life. But she preferred
the companionship of women. Mixing that companionship with physical
intimacy was a lifestyle that contributed to Julie's serenity and quiet
confidence. Nearing 40, she was successful in what she did and well
respected.
She actually was very committed to another woman in her life, Trish, a
prominent ad agency head in her mid-40s. They were a perfect complement
and they brought each other into different circles of smart, liberal,
successful NYers. They'd been together for six years, but it was a very
open relationship. Julie was the free spirit and her partner enjoyed
seeing her happy.
Julie had told her Trish that she'd met Suzanne and that she was
planning to invite her to dinner. She'd told her all about that first
night too.
"You definitely should meet her," Julie had said. "She can be very
quiet but she just exudes this strange sensuality. There's a palpable
feeling that there's some hidden mystery about her, yet she can be so
childish, so open, so exhuberant. She's a surprising mix of
contradictions that makes her so unpredictable, delightful."
Julie's partner, Trish, laughed and asked, "ok...and this woman's body?"
"Oh, that's just it," laughed Julie. "Suzanne acts like a woman who
just got new implants . But they're not. They're very real, very soft,
rather big. It's as though her whole body is this beautiful new
experience to her. Very strange, yet oddly disarming in a thirty-year
old."
And so Suzanne continued to meet at Julie's once or twice a week over
the next few weeks. It was usually just evenings but Julie's partner
Trish was often busy and it meant that they spent some weekend time
together too. One lazy rainy Sunday, Suzanne spent the day with her
inside reading the papers, watching old movies. Julie did a little
work. They played Scrabble. While Julie wore silky pants and a T,
Suzanne never got dressed the whole day. She was so confident in that
body now.
In the afternoon, they smoked a joint and Suzanne offered to cook. She
wasn't very adept in the kitchen and being high didn't help. She didn't
even finish the supper before she asked Julie, so strangely, so
seductively, how many radishes she could fit into her pussy. So weird,
thought Julie, yet so unexpected, so fresh and enthusiastic. Suzanne
had a very primal sensuality.
She finally met Julie's partner, Trish. They had drinks in a quiet,
luxurious, dark lounge. It was really more of a conspiracy. Julie
wanted her partner to bed Suzanne. You must experience her, she said.
She said that she thought it would be good for Suzanne too.
Julie's partner Trish was a directed, successful executive and a
beautiful blonde southern transplant. She was always impeccably made-
up. She had been married once, right after she graduated Vanderbilt, to
a successful Southern entrepreneur. The marriage didn't last long but
she had one son, who was at Stanford. Forty-something, smart and a
quick study, she was the strap-on girl in the relationship.
Suzanne would've loved to have fucked this woman when she was a man.
She had the hips and the dramatic curves that Julie didn't. She was
about 5'9, maybe 145 pounds, but trim and full breasted. Her blonde
hair she often kept pinned up.
And, now, Suzanne was here, in this well-appointed, sprawling Manhattan
apartment, with its large windows that looked out on the night of the
city. Suzanne knew why she was here of course. Julie had told her that
she wanted her partner "to experience you."
Suzanne felt emboldened by all that. She was emboldened by her
experience with Julie. She was becoming increasingly more sociable.
She'd menstruated four times now. She learned how to braid her own
hair. She could put on her bra now without fumbling at all, expertly,
quickly, covering her breasts and always giving them that little bounce
as she felt inside. She'd gotten a tattoo - a butterfly - down near her
pussy.
She knew what she wanted to wear to this woman's that night. It was a
red, tight, expensive tube dress that clung to her body. Her breasts
were provocatively exposed and the hem went just to her upper thighs.
She wore red heels, red manicured nails, long black-feather earrings.
She had smokey black powder on her lids and her eyes were rimmed in dark
mascara. She'd spent hours to make sure her makeup was perfect. Trish,
took off her coat and was surprised by the dress , she loved it, but she
hadn't expected this. Julie too, was surprised when she heard she'd
worn that and the evening they had.
Suzanne was emboldened by the situation, by the fact that she was here,
sipping a drink with this handsome woman. It was all sexual -- why she
was here, what Trish expected, and the power Trish exuded.
Suzanne had thought a lot about that first meeting with Trish once Julie
told her about it. She wanted to see the appetites of a woman like
that. What does she want for her pussy. That meant something to
Suzanne now. There were so many different things and feelings that
could be enjoyed there. Suzanne wondered what Trish would think of her
pussy, what sort of attention will she show me.
That's why she arrived looking like a beautiful high-end hooker. It was
just about sex. And it was strong and provocative and blunt.
Right off the bat, sitting back on the couch, Trish said, 'you do look
like such a terrific fuck.'
Suzanne wasn't embarrassed. "My god, look at me now," she wanted to
shout to herself. She had hardly touched this woman and her pussy was
wet. Her knees were together, her legs gloriously smooth, and the hem
of that dress pulled up in her lap, barely hiding that pussy underneath.
Suzanne put down her drink, bent down to unstrap her heels, watching
Trish at the end of the couch.
"You make me very wet," Suzanne said in a soft, dreamy way, as she
brought up legs onto the couch and pulled up her dress.
Trish watched, surprised, as Suzanne pulled her panties aside and began
tracing her labia. She did it so genuinely, without any self
consciousness. It was transfixing.
Suzanne traced up and down, gently spreading her wetness, teasing her
clitty, so focused, seemingly oblivious that Trish was even there.
Trish watched, growing aroused. And when Suzanne finally looked up,
Trish saw an expression that was at once so pure, so unique and so
languid.
But Trish was never flustered. She took a long sip of her drink and she
said mater-of-factly: "Do you think you're the only one with a wet
cunt?"
There was nothing she could have said that would've affected Suzanne
more, except for the all the other things she said that night.
Only twenty minutes after Suzanne had arrived, Trish went to her bedroom
and unlocked the drawer in her wardrobe. She walked back into her
penthouse lounge, wearing a black bustierre and a strap-on with a big,
black veiny cock. "You are such a sexy little bitch. Get up," she
directed. She took Suzanne's hand to help her stand up and said "come
here." She held Suzanne, with her dressed hiked up to her hips,
closely, both of them standing, her black cock pressing against
Suzanne's tummy, and kissed her. She licked the top of Suzanne's breast
and whispered into her ear: "Are you just a slut. Just a little girl in
a woman's body."
She guided Suzanne to the bed, effortlessly tied her hands back over
head. "Spread your legs," she directed as she walked around the room,
strutting her erect cock, sipping her drink."
"Look at you. You even shave your cunt. Such audacity. I hate shaved
cunts." She held her big dick, grinding the back of it against her
thick, pulsing clit. She tied Suzanne's legs to each corner.
She twirled her cock up and down Suzanne's slit. She slapped near her
clitty. Suzanne didn't realize how the movement of the cock affected
Trish, how the other, hidden end stimulated and teased her. She had no
awareness of that. She only knew how that dildo would feel, how much
she felt that she needed that pressure inside her.
But Trish didn't give in. "You're so weak. Look at your pussy now."
She continued to tease until Suzanne's pussy was soaked and gaping. She
held her cock in her hand, her hand with its manicured nails and
expensive rings.
When she finally crawled on top of Suzanne and put that cock deeply
inside her, Suzanne's climax was so bucking and feverish that when she
completely released she was frozen, inert.
Trish remained in her, kissing her gently on her lips, her eyes, her
ears, her neck. She'd pulled Suzanne's breasts from the top of her
dress and held them and licked them. When she pulled her cock from
Suzanne's cunt, Suzanne finally moaned and reached down weakly to
prevent her withdrawl.
They fucked until 6 a.m.
That night changed Suzanne a lot too.
And when it came time for that 'closure' meeting a few days later,
Suzanne was a different woman. They told her how much they liked her
work. "You're better than your brother," they laughed.
"Oh, I'm much better than he is," she said. One of the executives
sitting at the edge of the group, watching her cross her legs, could've
sworn she was wearing no panties.
"We've got another project for you," they told her.
It was all changing so quickly. Suzanne was gaining in power. But deep
inside, her male self was still there, dormant but there. One year,
that was the situation. If she took on another long project it might
extend to the point in which she'd revert back to her former male self.
That was her true self, after all, wasn't it? It was an internal
dialogue.
They wanted an answer on the new project shortly after the party.
She had a few days off. It was a time of soul searching, of self
assessment. But Suzanne was powerful. But still she thought of her
girlfriend...or rather 'his' girlfriend. The girlfriend she'd only been
emailing for the past few months. She thought of the tenuous situation
of that relationship now, the hurt she'd caused by not communicating by
phone.
But it was that girlfriend who unknowing had the last vial of serum.
The serum, which if Suzanne injected during the course of this current
period, might make her a woman for two, maybe four years longer. But
how could she get it? She smoked. She continued thinking, searching
inside herself. How could she even present herself to her old
girlfriend now? But she didn't need the stinking serum, there was
another way too. Shit. Stop it. Fuck it. Forget it. One year! That
was the deal he'd made to himself...to Suzanne.
She pulled on her cigarette. Suzanne was so much stronger now.
Charlize
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