Becoming Suzanne A Woman s Journey Part 3
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Becoming Suzanne - Part 4 free porn video
Part 4
Becoming Suzanne - A Woman's Journey
So, for now, there was no current project to keep Suzanne busy and
distracted. In fact, there were a number of days she had off before the
party, and before she had to make a decision regarding the next project
that had been offered.
Although Julie was working on other photo shoots, Suzanne often came by
with take-out or a bottle of wine. They were becoming close. Julie was
very fond of Suzanne and a little protective. There was something about
Suzanne, a sort of mystical quality that Julie couldn't really put her
finger on. There was also the sex too, of course. Suzanne's fresh
enthusiasm meshed so beautifully with Julie's passionate sensuality.
Both of them enjoyed how their bodies meshed so deliciously.
But their relationship posed no threat to what Julie and Trish shared.
In fact, Julie had loved hearing Trish's account of the evening those
two had had together. She was happy that Trish was taken with Suzanne
too.
Some nights Suzanne would stay over. Oftentimes, they'd lie naked,
talking. Julie's questions made Suzanne introspective. She'd rethink
old things and consider new things she'd never thought of before. Julie
made her whisper thoughts and dreams.
Suzanne was creating a new past and present. Sometimes she'd simply
replace herself with 'him,' thinking of the house they grew up in, the
schools they went to, or the people in their lives. Julie knew Suzanne
had never been with a man. She knew Suzanne had a life somewhere else.
Suzanne didn't feel threatened by her curiosity. She felt so
comfortable in so many ways with Julie.
One time as Suzanne was talking; Julie quietly listened, while weaving a
long thin braid in her hair. When Suzanne noticed, she was a little bit
more excited than most women would be. That delighted Julie. She was
surprised too to learn that Suzanne had never braided her hair before.
"Not even when you were young?," Julie asked incredulously, laughing.
Suzanne answered honestly, admitting her hair wasn't that long then.
Julie proceeded to brush Suzanne's hair, separating it into different
parts and playfully gave her two long braids. It was a very juvenile
look, the way a ten year old might wear her hair. As Suzanne admired
them in the mirror, clearly taken with their weight and look, Julie had
a flash of kinky artistic inspiration.
"Do you want to give Trish the perfect gift?," she exclaimed excitedly.
Before Suzanne could answer, Julie took her and hand and said: "C'mon,
let's go. Shopping time."
They got back to Julie's a couple of hours later with their bags and
Julie began setting up her photo equipment.
"Put on that jumper first," she instructed Suzanne. "And no make-up!"
The jumper was a plaid wool skirt with matching suspenders. She wore a
simple white blouse, leotards, and black patent leather shoes. Julie
tied pink ribbons on her braids. She began shooting pictures,
soliciting poses, directing changes in clothing, settings.
Suzanne enacted a bizarre variation of her girlhood that afternoon and
long into the evening. There were shots of her so innocent in dresses,
PJs and nighties. There were others of her lifting her dress, coyly
touching herself. In some, her breasts were banded tightly to her
chest. In others, her full, large tits peeked out. She wore her little
girl's PJ top, with her large round ass showing, her woman's pussy just
visible underneath She did her mock homework, wearing her school
dress, sucking her Winstons.
It was still a number of days before the work party when she was invited
to one of Trish's gatherings out at the Hamptons. It was a welcome
diversion. Julie told her to make sure to bring her bathing suit, some
casual things and perhaps one nice thing for the evening. It wasn't a
big party. It was one of Trish's more extended dinner parties actually.
She rode out with Julie. They arrived around 6 p.m. Friday night.
Trish was happy to see her and showed her to her room. It was off one
of the various 'wings' of the spacious contemporary beach house with a
sliding glass door that opened out on the ocean. Julie and Trish had
their own room in another part of the house.
Suzanne began unpacking. It was quite ironic. She was using the same
bag that she'd brought with her five months ago before the
transformation. She unpacked her toiletries, make-up, two new
swimsuits, shorts, undies, a sun dress, shoes and a sexy silk top and
pants in a bright coral that she'd wear tomorrow evening.
She took a long steamy shower and dried her hair. She'd gotten a soft
perm the other day with added blonde highlights. Everyone seemed to
love it. She passed her legs through her white thong, straightening it
over her pussy. Her hair had grown back there but was tightly manicured
in a neat little triangle. She was waxed smoothly elsewhere and her
toes had been polished and pedicured.
She lit a cigarette as she sat at the make-up table. She put on
eyeliner, mascara and subtle layers of light blue eye shadow. She
looked, took a drag from her cigarette, and put her hair up in the back.
She toyed with it some, loosening some strands of her long hair, tucking
in others. She put in two gold hoop earrings and some matching gold
bracelets. She pouted as she raised the lipstick and ran it over her
lips. She dabbed a little of a wild honeysuckle fragrance behind her
ears, then picking up one breast then the other, dabbed it under there
too.
Peering closely at her face, she smudged some of the shadow and
eyeliner, adeptly with her ring finger while her two fingers held her
cigarette.
She was braless as she slipped on her white sleeveless blouse and a long
floral skirt. She stepped from the mirror, pivoted, looking over her
shoulder and straight ahead, adjusting and preening. She unbuttoned one
button. She examined once more, then leaning against the bureau put on
one sandal, then the other. She picked up her lit cigarette from the
ashtray, her lighter and a pack of fresh cigarettes and made her way to
the living area.
Do you know what was really odd? When Suzanne stood there at the
mirror, she saw only Suzanne. Maybe it was the fact that she'd
concentrated so closely on all the things necessary to get ready. Maybe
it was all the experiences she'd gone through in the past several
months. Whatever it was, and maybe it wasn't the first time it had
happened, but when she looked at herself, she was only a young, sexy
woman. And as she walked down the hall, the smoke of her lit cigarette
trailing behind her, she felt so pretty and happy to be there. She was
excited to be there.
Julie stood up to her introduce her to the guests who'd arrived.
"People," she said loudly, waiting until conversation had stopped.
"This gorgeous creature," she said, with her arm around my waist, "....
is Suzanne."
There were seven others, sitting along the long modular couch, in chairs
and standing. Side by side, Julie and I stood there in the center of
the room as she named off each guest. It was a fun, mixed group. They
all seemed smart and successful. Everyone was in a good mood and
friendly.
They made me laugh and I felt very accepted in this special little
group. It helped a lot that I had noticeable endorsements from Julie
and Trish. Julie and Trish's open relationship was no secret. They
could see that my experience with both our hosts had been sexual - and
more. I was the new 'ing?nue.' But I never felt that I was seen as
just a 'conquest'. There were three other women there, who may've also
tasted and shared with them.
The guests all seemed to share a certain healthy hedonism. They seemed
to work very hard, and, likewise, to play hard. There was a lot of wine
at dinner, lively discussions and arguments, and funny stories. I drank
more than my share and at midnight snuck off to my bed.
I was actually one of the first up at around 8 the next morning. I got
a cup of coffee and saw Trish and Harvey reading the papers out on the
sunny patio. Harvey was a fifty-something clothing distributor -- a
large, hilarious guy who was openly gay. I learned that most of them
had been up until 3 am, with more drinking and lively arguments. Some
had been up later than that.
I sipped coffee and smoked, picking over the pile of newspapers with
them. Harvey couldn't read without offering his position on certain
articles or making jokes. He was a smart man and I realized he was also
sizing me up. It occurred to me that this circle of friends could hold
significant career benefits for me. Trish was very powerful in her
business and had already mentioned she had some projects that she wanted
me to look at. I never had such easy, intimate access to these sorts of
people before.
In the late morning, as breakfast things were laid out under the big
umbrella, all the guests eventually made it out, joking about last night
or groaning under the weight of their hangovers. People were in shorts
and bathing suits. Some were reading, some sipping drinks already, some
swimming in the clear pool. I'd changed into my bikini. That was a
first.
Harvey made me stand in front of him as he held my hands, inspecting:
"How simple is a beautiful bikini," he said. I was a little self-
conscious to begin with, and didn't exactly appreciate his calling
attention to me. But I braved the moment and just stood there, sticking
my tongue out at him.
We walked on the beach, lazed about, joked, drank and napped. Around 2
pm more guests joined us. Two of them were clearly friends of Harvey's.
They were tall, young handsome men from Argentina who were somehow
related to his distribution network in South America.
The evening was warm and clear with a cool breeze from the water. We
ate dinner at a long table on the back patio and everyone looked
resplendent in their dress under the candlelight. There was more wine
and more laughing. I was a little more careful with the wine this time.
In typical boy-girl dinner party fashion, I sat next to the sweet,
distinguished NY businessman who was with an elegant divorcee. On the
other side of me was Antonio, one of the men from Argentina. Harvey
commanded most of the attention at the table with his stories, but the
others weren't shy.
Sometime after dinner, someone was tossed into the pool. By midnight
everyone was in the water, naked, playing a raucous game of Marco Polo.
Antonio, my Argentinean dinner partner , tall and strong, had a
marvelous body, as did his companion. Each of them was noticeably
endowed. There was a time when I might have self-consciously wondered
how I compared manhood-to-manhood, but that was completely, totally
gone.
We had swimming races. We played a naughty game of water tag. At one
point, Antonio picked me up effortlessly over his shoulder and carried
me up the ladder. Draped over his back, I playfully slapped his
broad, strong back to let me go. He easily shifted me in his arms,
cradling me, and swung me once before tossing me into the deep end. But
I held onto his neck and pulled him in with me laughing.
Julie, sitting at the end of the pool, naked, was watching us. Everyone
was pushing and jumping and laughing, but she noticed us. She'd known
that Antonio would be coming. She knew him rather well. In fact, she
had had designs on him for this evening, and intended that they would
include me.
But I didn't know that. I didn't know that when I returned later from
briefly inside, where I'd slipped on a terrycloth top and bottom.
People were scattered in their little groups, torches gave off their
light. Julie and Antonio were sitting next to the fire pit sipping
their drinks, his arm around her. She was in a robe and he only in
shorts. She called me over to join them. I still had no idea. Even
when I sat down on the other side of him and he lifted his free arm over
me, I still had no idea.
Julie brought out a joint. We smoked it, it seemed very strong. He
held us against him as we looked up at the stars. We were giggly. We
talked about the cosmos. We shared the deep realizations of three high
people.
Antonio was explaining to me how the constellations were different in
his hemisphere. I listened to his broken English, my head on his chest.
I didn't realize Julie's hand was on top of his shorts, slowly rubbing.
When Julie said dreamingly, "isnt this art?", I was still looking up,
admiring the expansiveness of the universe in my dreamy state.
"Isn't this art Suzanne?," she said once again. I thought she meant the
night sky until I looked and saw his cock that she'd pulled from his
shorts. It was long, floppy and very striking to see then.
"I mean, just look at it," she whispered absently, obviously high, "its
shape and its softness." She continued holding it and it began looking
less floppy.
She sat up a little. "I really mean that Antonio," she said looking at
him before kissing him tenderly.
Then, speaking to me, she said "do you see how its art?" Thinking
again, she said to Antonio, "do you know Suzanne's never felt that?"
"No?," he said looking down at me. "Never one time?"
He gently took my hand and said "just hold it, you feel it." He said it
tenderly, graciously, in his beautiful accent. He didn't mean it
provocatively.
"See," Julie said, as my hand wrapped around it.
It was warm. It was thickening, hardening.
I looked at his face. I looked at Julie's. She leaned over and kissed
me passionately. I felt him harden beneath us.
Somehow Julie guided us to her room. I remember feeling so small as we
walked together held by his arms. I couldn't help but to feel what was
to happen.
There is so much I don't remember. I know we all kissed and caressed,
slowly, languidly. I remember Julie so familiar, so gentle on my clit
and my hole. I know I kissed him.
But I'll never forget lying there, my legs open, Julie kissing my face
tenderly. In her hand was his cock, large and erect. She whispered
soothingly into my ear. I felt it touch me. I felt her move it slowly
around my vulva. I felt his hands grazing my breasts. I felt him
looking down at me.
My eyes were closed when I felt the head of him just barely inside me.
I know I let out a soft moan. I know that's when she kissed my mouth
firmly. And I know that's when I felt him slide deeper inside me.
How can one ever explain that feeling? I'd experienced penetration with
dildos before. I knew what my body was capable of. But when I felt the
exquisite heat of his thickness, it felt as though soft electricity or
energy consumed my entire consciousness.
At some point I felt him slide out, then in. It revived me and I opened
my eyes and saw him over me. He went inside again slowly. Slowly he
was out again. Silently, motionlessly, I just lied there, looking at
him. He was in me again, deeply, unmoving, pressing against me.
Unmoving, only pulsing, he kissed my breast. His cock became this
amorphous feeling of heat and pressure intimately inside me. I moved my
pelvis only to discern the feeling of him. I reached down to feel the
reality of him there. He continued in and out slowly. Each new time in
me felt stronger and stronger.
I didn't know then that Trish had taken her camera. I really didn't
have any real sense of awareness. It felt all so primal, so
overwhelming. It struck her as art. It made him only harder.
There is a photo of him standing, holding me clinging to him, my head
lolling back. My legs were tight around his hips, the strength of his
cock invisibly bonding us. I don't know how long it all lasted. She
says her favorite picture is the one after, of me lying down, seemingly
asleep with the dim light complimenting my "beatific expression." My
legs were open and the angle of the shot revealed my pussy so dilated,
my labia still enflamed, and the slow white drip of his semen from
inside me.
I woke up before 6 a.m. and quietly showered and packed.
"I've called a car," I said softly to Julie, waking her.
"Are you ok?" she asked.
"I'm fine."
"Let me drive you," she said starting to get up.
"No. Julie. I'm fine. You have to express my goodbyes to Trish and
the others. And to Antonio."
We hugged. We kissed goodbye. "I'll be leaving soon. I'll call you
later," she said
"Oh wait!" She went to her bathroom. "Here. It's a 'morning-after'."
She put the pill in my hand. "You were so beautiful," she said
tenderly, brushing my hair back from my eyes.
I got into the black car still holding that pill, thinking. We wound
our way out of Hampton for several miles and onto the expressway. I was
lost in thought, lying back in the seat, as the car sped closer toward
the city.
Finally, nearly halfway there, I opened my water bottle, and swallowed
the pill. Still only thinking.
Gert
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Becoming Suzanne A Woman s Journey
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Becoming Suzanne A Woman s Journey Part 5
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