A Change Of Life, Part 11 free porn video

A Change of Life, Part 11 by LaShaunda.... Well, that Sunday, we did one more shopping trip for clothes for the girls, before they were packed off for the summer and off to dance camp. Ashanti went mental and tossed pair after pair of short-shorts into the cart, @ Target. We also picked out bikinis and swimsuits for both girls..... I picked out a dark blue bikini for Tanisha.... My eyes were drawn to it instantly, and I thought that she would look really sexy in it. "Why don't you go try it on," I said. So she took the swimwear into the dressing stall. No one else was really around in the store, so she said to me, "Mom, James apologized for what he did to me yesterday." "I know, he wasn't trying to be mean to you, but he felt you just had to get used to your new role, with such a small amount of time to do so." "I am nervous about camp," she said. "Not that I'll act like a boy, but that someone will "discover" what I really am." "Well," I said, "James told us that we are all going to remove our breast prosthetics today and just go "natural," which will help." "Yeah, it is about time," said Tanisha, "I am starting to really get swollen underneath. I can't believe that I am developing boobs." "I can't believe so either," I said, "I would never have imagined that we'd all develop breasts and live as women." "Yeah," said Tanisha, "and remember that I am still a guy underneath. I'll just get through the summer, and then when I come back, only a few more days before I change back." "It will probably be good to get away from James for awhile too," I said. "Yeah," said Tanisha, "I was quite honestly thinking about saying something to someone after the playpen thing yesterday, but I didn't want to ruin the girly experience for you and Ashanti. Also, James is so incredibly powerful (as a lawyer), that any complaints I made would likely have fallen on deaf ears. Also, even if I had gone and complained to someone like the police, they would have just laughed me out of the building." "We are going where no men have been before," I said... "Yeah," said Tanisha, "I mean, even if I tried to tell someone about my predicament, they would just laugh in an absolute riot at the thought of a white boy being "downgraded" and forced to live as a black chick." "There are lots of ways in which being a black girl is easier though than being a white guy," I said. "Many people probably think that white guys have it so easy, with lots of social connections and everything. However, black people can qualify for all sorts of scholarships and government assistance. So there are advantages to being one of either race." "I know," said Tanisha, "the problem is just that very little of me feels like a guy anymore. Most of the time, I even think like a girl now.... which is fucked up, especially as there are still girls like Rachael I like from school. OMG, I think I would just DIE if they saw me the way I was right now." Tanisha came out and modeled her blue bikini for me, spinning around... "Oh honey, anyone who looked at you right now would only see a perfect teenaged black girl." "I know, and can you imagine the shame if some girl I liked knew how I was looking and dressing this summer, not to mention going out on a date with a black boy!!!!" There was little else I could say. She was absolutely right, and hopefully after this summer Ryan/Tanisha could put the trauma and drama behind her and get on with life as a straight white boy. The same for Tommy/Ashanti too, even though it would be much more difficult for her to leave her alter-ego at James's house. James went up and paid for the cartloads of clothing and makeup purchases we made at Target and other stores. We practically knocked makeup items from the "black" section off the shelves at Wal-Mart with our elbows. The next morning, bright and early, my daughters got up and were taken off to the bus-stop by LaKeesha. I felt a bit sad thinking I would not see them for the next 2 and 1/2 months, while they were at Dance Camp. It was also a bit lonely knowing that the girls were gone now, and I was all alone in this big house with James. I sat at a table and ate brunch by myself. (There was some consolation though, as Ashanti and Tanisha told me that they would keep in touch with me by blogging and on facebook, and they would share posts, pictures, and videos from how things were going at camp!!!) I had little to do now that morning, with the girls gone and the maid service doing the deep-cleaning the house, so i finally kicked off my heels and began watching Daytime TV, while James was at work. It was rather fitting that I watched TV, as James had made it quite clear to me that I was more of a "trophy girlfriend," and "above" manual household chores. I definitely had no arguement with this as Maria, the Latin cleaning lady, went about the laundry. It was actually kind of a relief just to relax. On TV, I watched programs like "The View," and the Wendy Williams show. The programming was clearly aimed at females (like me) who were expected to be around the house at this time. My interest perked in things advertised, like sales on dresses and kids' clothes at Kohls. When Wendy Willams would interview a black stud like Ja Rule or Denzel Washington, I also found my interest strangely peaking. In the afternoon, the Maury Povich program came on, with yet another "you are not the father" segment. I found myself with heartbreak for the poor black girls on this show who had to take care of a kid with no reliable provider. It made me think how lucky I was to have a man like James who took care of me. As I was just hanging out that afternoon, James came in the door, early from work... "Hey Sweetie," he said as he came and pecked me on the lips, "How was your day." "Oh, just same old same old," I replied. "Listen," he said, "I made an appointment back at Pauline's for you to have another hair-braiding session tonight. I have a hunch you would enjoy getting styled again." "Oh yeah, absolutely." "I suggested to Pauline that maybe you get a weave, and braids for the first time." "That sounds amazin'." "Yeah, and also," said James, "I think since the competition for partner is heating up at work, there are just going to be many more social functions and dinners, so don't get too used to just sitting around here on your lonesome for the rest of this summer." "Oh James, you know how much I appreciate you, and now we have this big house ALL TO OURSELVES!!" " Well, we can save that for later," he grinned, "But for now, get ready to go off to Pauline's and get your new weave." ------ When I went back to Pauline's, Pauline, Ayumi, and Nabiki greeted me like old friends.... "Hey LaShaunda, hows u doin'!!!," they cheered as they came over and gave me a hug. "Oh Dayum gurl, us look amazin'!!!" "Oh yea, very sexy, very sexy," said Ayumi as she studied me up and down. The little Asian girl was a bit giddy as she studied the "new woman" that she had had a hand in creating. "In all seriousness," said Pauline, "It looks like our treatments really "took," You ARE a real black lady. You are by far the best genetic male we have ever worked on. No one would ever suspect ANYTHING looking at you now... And we do always like to follow up with our clients to see how they are getting along." "Oh why thank you," I gushed.... I was so flattered. It was amazing that Pauline was accepting me as one of her own. "I am very happy with the treatments," I said. I even posed a bit in my dress. "Oh yes, you very feminine," said Ayumi in a thick Asian accent. "I think of myself as only a black lady now," I said. "And how are the girls doing," said Pauline? "They just went to summer camp," I replied. "Oh yeah, they will have so much fun." In the beauty shop, I totally belonged. I was just one of the black ladies, who naturally came in here for her perms and weaves. Pauline said, "So, where is James?" "He just popped over to the gas station.... he should be back here in a bit." "Well," said Pauline, "On the phone, James said he wanted us to do for you a new weave, and then braids for you for your first time? Is that correct?" "That sounds fine," I replied as I was seated in a salon chair. Once again, I was immersed in femininity as I felt Pauline's fingers working my scalp and new hair extentions being woven into my locks. Yet more perfumy-smelling hair products were dumped onto my head. I was still getting used to these unique fruity smells that used to repulse me as as a white guy. As Pauline worked on me, there seemed to be no evident undertone that she was really doing this for some pathetic white guy who was trying hopelessly to be a black lady. I knew, obviously, that many blacks felt resentment against whites who held what they perceived to be a "superior position" in society. Maybe Pauline was thinking, "What is this honky-ass-cracker doing coming in here and trying to pass as a black woman." However, the truth was that this was all under the sponsorship and control of James. Pauline did seem to completely accept me as part of her "crowd," laughing and chatting with me about my girls as she began to pull my long hair into tight braids. Having my hair braided and pulled was a new sensation for me. As a boy, I had only ever had short hair and crew cuts. Coming into the hair braiding parlor, I had had long nappy and ebony hair that hung down all around my head in curls. Now, I watched with fascination as my girls were getting pulled up into a massive "up-do" with lots and lots of braids. It was a hairstyle I would have been mortified to sport as a man, but it seemed so natural to me as a woman. Another black lady customer even came and sat down in the chair next to me, and she complimented me on my big hairstyle. Ayumi began to work on her. It actually was rather blissful to be pampered and "styled." I liked watching the progress made on me as more and more of my curls vanished, to be replaced by braids. I thought my hairstyle was really cool, almost like that of a native woman from some obscure African tribe. (If my father could see me now)... James finally came back in the hair braiding parlor, and paid Pauline. Soon, we were on our way. "Come back and see us soon, and bring your cute daughters again too!!!" "You can count on it." ----- After we left, James studied me and looked me over.... Actually, this is a massive understatement. James could not keep his eyes off of me. He kept studying me up and down, especially my made-up face and my big hairstyle. "Oh my god LaShaunda, I can not tell you how absolutely ravishing you look tonight!!! You just look stunning.... absolutely stunning." As I checked myself in the mirror, even I had to admit that I looked rather incredible. By styling my hair into an updo, Pauline had pulled the hair off of my face, which really exposed my slender Ethiopian neck and cheekbones... All of the contours of my face were exposed, hiding none of my true beauty. With an updo, my striking facial definition was much more clear. "Pauline did a fantastic job," said James. "I have to give her a massive tip next time." Even I could not stop smiling at myself in the mirror, and blowing kisses at myself. For the first time as "LaShaunda," I was quite honestly truly in love with my reflection. I felt absolutely NONE of Dave Miller trying to re-emerge, but I was all black lady tonight!!! As James praised my beauty, I was also melting in his car seat like melted chocolate!!! Another factor in my stronger feminine feelings was that now that my girls were not around, I felt much less pretense to keep up any facade of manhood, or being Dave Miller. If I wanted to, for the next two months, I could give myself completely over to being LaShaunda, and totally enjoy the experience. James reached over and put one hand on my pantyhosed thigh, as he was driving. "Oh James," I said "I can't thank you enough for my new hairstyle." "Its no problem," he said, "You look ravishing." "And now," James said, "I just can't wait until your sex-change, when we can finally "seal the deal."" "Oh James," I teased, "I'm not HAVING a sex change. I'm going back to being a guy in two months." "I know, I know," said James, "I was just joking." "Of course," I said as I batted my lashes at James again. I kept fluttering at myself in the mirror, at disbelief at how pretty I was. I had come such a long way in a few months. On the long car ride home, the lengthy and not-so-subtle flirting had gotten me all hot-and-bothered, and bordereline anxious and apprehensive as to what might come once we were back at our abode. As James stroked my nyloned thigh, I quivered nervously in the seat.... I kept looking in the mirror, seeing the pretty black lady looking back.... As I sat there and James whispered sweet-nothings in my ear, I began to once again feel a raging hard erection sprout inside my tights and my pussy-panties. It felt so erotic to have my blood-filled boner pressing hard against the tight and repressive nylon material. As James touched me, Inside my panties, I felt the exact same erection I had had many times before. As I was appearing as a woman now, my turgid penis was instead so positioned to stimulate female arousal as James was getting me going. I felt the familiar twitch, and then an absolute rush of blood as James described things like the types of outfits I would look so sexy in. My cock soon strained against its restrictive casing..... Unlike James, I was not allowed to proudly display my manhood. No matter how powerfully aroused I would get, I would always have that smooth front of my crotch. My excitement took place inside my new vagina. Having to wear the restrictive vaginal garments did indeed make getting an erection somewhat painful. My penis would swell up and yearn to break free as I thought about how womanly I was now. Worst of all, it was very difficult to satisfy unless I obviously removed my pussy- panties. I was, however, able to take my dildo, my finger, or another object and probe my dark faux-vagina, which would stimulate the nervy underside of my penis. With the rest of my manhood firmly encased, I could stroke and stroke for several minutes until I was agitated enough to completely erupt inside my black prison. I felt like such a woman when I did this and thought about all of this. However, I soon came to the realization that tonight it would not be under my own efforts that my new orifice would be penetrated, but perhaps James would do the job for me. This might make achieving that all-elusive orgasm much easier than me flailing away with my own finger or the ridiculously oversized dildo that Cha'relle had given me!!! We pulled up in James's driveway, and James grabbed my hand as we practically tore into the house and up into his bedroom. It was hard to run in my heels as they clicked on the pavement.... My dress blew in the breeze, and the cool night air felt great on my pantyhose.... It was also hard to run as my cock was absolutely bloated inside my feminine enclosure. James, however, was ready to give me the ultimate treat. My thoughts were a whirr as he whisked me away. He led me into his bedroom like I was a puppet. Even though there was no one else in the house, he slammed the door shut behind us, anticipating total privacy for this forthcoming "session." "Oh LaShaunda, you have no idea the effect you have on me," said James as he dropped his trousers and exposed his tiger-print briefs. Even under his loose boxers, I could see that his penis was also massively erect.... (A giant waiting prize just for me). "James," I said, "I'm sorry, but I don't know if I can." (I was so nervous, as it was my "first time.") Even though I knew he would be entering a totally fake orifice, I was still feeling very apprehensive about taking this step.... (my "deflowering, I blush to admit it.) (It was crazy to think I was posing as a black woman, in the bedroom of a completely virile and proud black man. All of his pictures of tigers, lions, and African themes seemed to stare down at me, ready to welcome me into their community. Being taken by James now would seem to be another giant confirmation of my new black-female identitiy. I felt so submissive and small in this bedroom, but this was how I was supposed to feel.) James sat down on the bed... "Come sit with me sweetie," he said to me. As he sat down on the sheets, he was absolutely pitching a giant tent inside his underwear. I could not take my eyes off the prize. Like the good submissive girl I was, I went over and sat down demurely next to him. "Oh LaShaunda," he said, "You have no idea how far you have come. And I care for you so much, and I love spending time with you. I also want to make a better life not just for you, and your girls, but all of us. You are the woman I have been waiting for, and you complete me." "James," I said, "That is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. And I too am feeling like I might be your "soul mate." You are the dominant person that may be the perfect contrast to my natural submissiveness." "Indeed," said James, "When you were a white man, I noticed how submissve and demure your true personality was. You (or your boys) could never function effectively as men. You would always wind up with dominant women who used you for what they wanted and then left you. When you act as a woman, your true natural talents come out and shine !!! All you girls needed was this chance." "Honestly, this has been the most memorable experience of my life, and a big turning point. And to be honest with you, I LOVE posing as your girlfriend. And I think once Tanisha is done with her "Training," she will come to love it too." "I think Tanisha is doing just fine at camp," said James, "But now that the kids are on, it is just US, with plenty of time to learn about eachother." As I bonded with James, I barely even realized it, but my hand had wandered over to his tented nylon boxer shorts, and I had begun to stroke and rub his gargantuan penis. His cock was truly the Eighth wonder of the world. Also, even though I was NOT inherently attracted to black men, he was truly the ultimate prize out of any "brutha" I could have bagged. Not only was he incredibly wealthy and intelligent (much more learned than me), but he was SO incredibly handsome and rugged as well. I had always thought that facially and physically, he looked like a combination of Michael Clarke Duncan, and LeBron James, with all the best attributes of both. James was also so urbane, suave, competent, and well-educated..... Even when I was a white man, he totally had me outclassed, and he could argue me into doing what ever he wanted me to do. He was just so far above me in every facet of his life, to where I looked so pathetic next to him. Now, as a black woman, I was in the perfect subservient role next to him....... My job was to look pretty, attend parties, watch the girls, and keep my mouth shut. My new "role" was actually ideal, as James got to be the breadwinner, and I got to be pampered and do the things I did best.... Wear dresses and act as the housewife (or formerly, the house-husband).... As a white male, I was not cut out for work, and I could never survive on my own, except scraping by on the most menial of jobs. This is why I NEEDED a provider, be it a strong man or a strong woman. And since that provider just happened to be a black man (whom I was giving yet another foreplay hand-job to), fate dictated that I take the natural form of a black woman in order to be socially compatible with him!! I stroked James harder and harder, preparing his rock-hard penis for whatever he wanted to do with it. I wasn't sure what intent he had towards me tonight, but his level of arousal seemed to indicate he wanted to go to "the next level" beyond handjobs and blowjobs. I stroked and rubbed him, making his shaft sprout more and more, to where it was almost stuck to his belly. He reclined back and moaned of pure ecstasy, enjoying every second of the experience that my manicured mahogany hand was providing for him. I expertly slid my long red nails up and down his shaft, scratching the nervy underside with my nails and giving him the most intense feeling.... (I had loved scratching the underside of my own penis with my fingernails when I was a guy.... I had always found it so stimulating)... (The fact that I had once been a guy and I had had my own penis also made me much more skilled in knowing James's "G-Spots" and where to please him. This is why (I felt) that James was so satisfied with me as a love partner, as I could use all the "tricks" I used on myself to maximum effect with James. For example, I knew exactly where to go on the nervy underside of his penis to get him to "black out," with pleasure...... I knew how to use the nylon fabric of tights and stockings to get his penis going, and many, many other little tricks to heighten the sensual experiences for him!!!!) I continued my "foreplay" with James, running my other nubian hand up and down his leg, and I began to climb on top of him as he reclined back onto his pillow. James, at this point, seemed content to just enjoy the experience I was providing him. I was still anxious about what we were about to do, but my black female persona was "committed" and taking over in the direction of stimulating James. James now lay completely back on the bed, and pulled his drawers down; his penis standing erect like a flagpole..... I continued to rub it now with both hands...... Next, I came directly across James's hips, and "mounted" him, holding his penis directly in front of me like a joystick. I pressed both knees into the bed as James lay under me. His cock was directly in front of me, which I groped and pulled with absolutely no holding back. I was completely into it now. James was totally lost. However, there seemed to come a moment in which James snapped back to reality from his temporary ecstasy. "Wait LaShaunda," he said to me, "Not like this... I don't just want another handjob...." James then crouched like a tiger and rolled me down to the bottom of the bed. I had been on top, but now I was the submissive one in the missionary position. James and I had switched places in the blink of an eye (he was so strong and quick).... I felt James mount me now, in the same position I had been on him. He got on my waist, and I could feel his extremely massive cock rubbing against my tights and panties.... (I did not know what to think... I did not know what to think!!! This big black guy was ready to FUCK me and have sex with me) James was at first gentle, caressing my face with one hand as he kept rubbing his cock against my tights. He seemed determined to get the most from this pleasurable experience ..... absolutely milking every second and not letting a single stroke go to waste. He sweet-talked me as he looked into my eyes, "Oh LaShaunda, my African Queen. I am ready to deflower you, once and for all. You are my princess, my Ethiopian Goddess....." James kissed me on the lips and stuck his tongue in my mouth. He continued to study my beautiful face and stare longingly into my eyes. Then, with his other hand, he first raised the short hemline of my dress, completely exposing my tights and panties. Then, he reached up and pulled down the waistband of my pantyhose, and dropped my panties down to my knees. My hosiery was now pulled down, totally revealing my chocolate hips and vagina.... My glory hole was waiting for him. His penis was still enormous and rock hard (and had been long-waiting).... His thing was such an impressive drill (far more glorious than mine)... He was well hung, like an animal at the zoo.... "Go on, I am ready," I assured him. "I want this." James then mounted me in the missionary position. I let out a shriek as his massive cock entered me for the first time. To be honest with you, I had no idea what to expect.... It felt a bit weird at first having a large and throbbing foreign object enter me, but it soon felt great to have this massive thing pummeling my own hidden and long-neglected penis. James was so powerful and strong, with such thrusting hips and a girthy cock, that he was able to pound me with much more force than I could do with my own finger or a dildo. The consequence was that my own male member quickly became extremely turgid again, and I felt it would not be long before I had an uncontrollable explosion. It took only 12 or 13 pumps from James before I was completely hard and on the brink of orgasm. My thoughts went to being a sexy woman, and how much I loved appearing and being addressed as a female. I thought about my tights fetish, and how much I relished and enjoyed being pantyhosed. Most of all, I kept thinking, "LaShaunda, LaShaunda, LaShaunda, and how much I loved being a sexy woman of color!!!" James was also foremost in my mind as he deflowered me. I loved his musk, and the feeling of this extremely powerful black man having his way with me. It was all an erotic blur, and the blood rushed away from my head to the point where I felt ready to black out..... I was really enjoying this experience though. This was BY FAR the most pleasurable that sex had ever been. I could do it again and agian (with James!!!) James was so strong and sexy, and I braced myself as I got harder and harder, grabbing on to his massive triceps muscles. He thrust his basketball hips into me.... He was TOTALLY the strong and assertive male, while I was the demure female spitroast!!! James pumped again and again.... It would not be long now. He groaned and moaned with pleasure. "YES YES YES..." I shrieked like a loud African black lady at a Jay-Z concert. "Oh Yeah Honey, Oh Yeah, dat be Amazin' Dat be Amazin'".... (As I was being pleasured, my "Ghetto-Mama" instinct came back out.... 'Yous be da man, You's be da man." James was pumping me so hard, that I could not resist orgasm. I felt that final familar twitch in my engorged penis, and then those 10 seconds of undeniable pleasure as my throbbing came to a climax, and all of the pent up semen drained from my organ. I absolutely loved that feeling as I came to that unstoppable eruption, and i had that shameful spray inside my pussy panties. However, that was NOTHING. As I began to cum, I felt James have the exact same climax, as his dick was throbbing like never before. I too felt spurts of warm liquid hit me on the inside of my belly, inside my vagina. The trajectory assured me in my head that the hit had come from James. He too filled me up with his baby-juice, and our fluids mixed appropriately. I was absolutely dripping wet!!!....... I knew for a fact that James had exploded with me, as his big body slumped over mine, and he lost his "pump." "Oh LaShaunda, that was the best I ever had," he moaned, "Truly, that was the most sensational thing I have ever experienced." "I's be so glad you's liked it. I be yo' ghetto ho' any time." (This had all made me feel like a "real" black woman, and for some reason, I felt the urge to "go ghetto," when James was screwing me. A part of me was beginning to feel a real urge to become a total inner-city baby momma, instead of some uppity black suburban-wife who was just "posin'" and wishing that she could be a white lady. As James lay on me, taking in the moment, I began to wonder what life could be like living in the projects, with 7 screaming kids from three baby-daddies. We'd be on welfare and food-stamp assistance, with certainly no opportunities for the kids to do things like ballet in their un-funded school district. I'd get some low-level job as a clerk in the DMV... something crappy that the governemnet doled out to black ladies on charity. Now that I had been a black woman for some time, however, a part of me was really sort of wishing that I could participate in the true African- American experience in this country. I sort of felt like I wanted to explore my "LaShaunda" identity even more, and trace my roots. I was certianly thankful for the high-class lifestyle that James provided for us, but I began to sort-of wonder what life would be like if I spoke in ebonics, and had to scratch-and-claw my way through life. As Dave Miller, the struggles of black Americans had seemed like something totally foreign to me.... out of sight, and out of mind. However, as LaShaunda, I was no longer just a mirage, but a living, breathing, truly functional black woman, with her own history and identity. I cuddled with James for a few minutes, lost in thought. I was still absolutely dripping with cum. "James," I said, "Can I go wash off," "sure, sure," he moaned. I went to the restroom and douched myself until I was totally free of juices, and I flushed the toilet towels down the latrine. I finally felt fresh and "like myself" again in my artificial pussy. I went back to the bedroom and cuddled with James, and I realized then how grateful I was that I had avoided the worst and most painful aspects of being an African-American woman.... Discrimination, social- invisibility, getting disrespected, gangs, no employment prospects, etc.... I was so lucky that I had James here to give me and my girls all the best of this wonderful, once-in-a-lifetime experience, but none of the worst. We got to dress, be pretty, dance, and be totally taken care of.... How could we ever give this up?. ---- With the kids off at dance camp, things quite honestly got a lot more fun and relaxed around the house. James was less concered with "training," but more or less wanting to have fun as relationship- partners of sorts. I thought a lot about how the girls were doing, I admit, and I eagerly awaited their first letters. However, after a few days, NOTHING had arrived, which basically made me think that the girls were having such an extreme amount of fun that they had completely forgotten their mother !!! Also, I admit that I had little time to just sit around and think about the kids. In the first place, over the week, James and I were basically humping like gorillas every night. I blush to say this, but we would basically start off with me giving him a comprehensive handjob or blowjob... Then, for "the hard one," James would screw my pussy, which also got me completely aroused to the point where I exploded in orgasm. After James had came twice every evening, he was pretty much spent. Sometimes, he'd go masturbate by himself thinking of what we had done, and I would also be feeling like I needed to pleasure myself again. We'd also cuddle, hold hands, and just talk, and our "bonding" took up large parts of the evening. We'd sit, eat dinner together, and talk about our day and our future plans. In a way, even though we were now complete fuck-buddies. We also got along so well, as when we chatted, we chatted like two guys sometimes. I could still sit there and talk with hiim about basketball and work, and not be clueless with the conversation. Other times though, we'd make total sweet talk with eachother, and I'd become his "ghetto mama" who was ready to give him the ride of his life!!! Even in the day though, I had plenty to keep me occupied. James would give me large sums of cash to where I could go purchase outfits and dresses, and my wardrobe was soon massively expanded to befit and upper- class woman of color. I went to the stores and splurged at stores like Nordstrom.... This was one reason why I think even though I was still (sort of) a straight male, I became very accepting or resigned to my new female status... As a white guy, I HATED having to do things like count change to buy a cheesburger at McDonalds. It was such a WELCOME change of pace to get handed a credit card with complete freedom to go and PICK whatever I wanted. The fact that I could only buy female-oriented things seemed secondary to the new surprising feelings of empowerment I had. It would be difficult to give things like this up when I went back to being a white guy. I also did not know how I would support myself again, since I assumed I had been naturally oblitterated from my factory job long ago, when I just stopped showing up. The future of living and providing as a white man terrified me. Even if I didn't like some things about sexual-relations with James, it was sort of tolerable compared to the unimaginable alternative. James and I also started to have fun too. After a few days, the novelty of just hanging around the house and "exploring each other's bodies" began to wear off. I began to get ready to get out of the house and have experiences other than shuttle the kids to dance class. I was ready to live other aspects of my life as a black woman, and I felt that my voice and body had changed enough to where I could socialize without inhibitions as an African-American female.... I had popped off my fake boobies a few days ago, revealing a glorious pair of all-natural ebony tits underneath, which I had admired glowingly in the mirror for a VERY long time!!!) Yes, my boobies (which I had proudly grown) were absolutely spectacular, and totally worthy of a National Geographic covergirl. I began to want to show them off to the world in tight-tops and leotards. I began to beg for James to take me out more and more, as his lovely girlfriend, LaShaunda. James and I had been practicing our salsa and Latin dance moves. I was getting really good, and James was kicking off the dust from so much practice with me. We finally felt brave enough to go "cut a rug" at a local club. We also invited Kendrick and LaKeesha, and Cha'relle and her man, to head out on Friday Night and "chill" with us. Even though obviously I had been out MANY times in public as a woman now, this would be another unoffical debut of sorts for me. For the first time, I would be out on a dance floor in a very sexually-charged place, with EVERY man in the establishment checking out every hot chick on the floor. Naturally, I wanted to be the hottest lady out there (even hotter than LaKeesha).... There was no doubt for me as to what I would wear as a "debutante....." I instantly decided on my dangerously sexy leopard-print minidress, the one with short sleeves that I had pranced around in for my boys so long ago in my "home fashion show." Underneath, I wore a padded white bra and panty set (so my tits would be even more mammoth), and tan pantyhose.... (I wanted all the guys to burn holes with their eyes in my tights). I also wore matching leopard-print heels!!! I admired myself in the mirror, and I thought I looked SO sexy. The hemline of my dress was SO short and showed off all of my legs, and my tits were protruding like balloons in my tight nylon dress. While this was my first time at the club, I felt no need to be inhibited in my dress, and I could totally wear what I wanted. I was going to announce my presence as a glorious female, who was the hottest chick at the club, with the most "swagger." I even wanted to outshine my fellow man-in- drag LaKeesha, and Cha'relle. Cha'relle turned up in a simple but elegant black-velvet LBD, with coffee-colored pantyhose that matched her dark legs. She came out with her husband, Julius, another monumental black man with the physique of a football tight-end. LaKeesha wore a white and gray "white Siberian tiger" print dress, which she wore with tan pantyhose. She came out arm-in-arm with "her" boyfriend Kendrick. I thought that LaKeesha's outfit really went well with mine, and made us look like "Sista's." Our party snapped pictures together in James's house before we went off dancing. Us three ladies smiled and hugged, while our boyfriends and husbands laughed and chatted away. I thought it was crazy how delicate and demure us three "girls" seemed in comparision to our powerfully built black boyfriends.... For example, LaKeesha, Cha'relle, and I all had lithe and slender arms. smooth and shaved legs, big busts and wide hips..... We acted the girls in every attribute...... We had done-up hairstyles, made-up faces with purple lips, and we all wore pantyhose. The three of us chatted and giggled about our kids, fashion, and superficial female interests. By contrast, the guys were strapping, all over 6'4'', and all had rippling muscles. The guys all wore slacks and dress-shirts, in contrast to our dresses and tights. They had the confidence and deep voices of males, talking about sports and hot girls. By contrast, the three of us "females" were all pictures of femininity.... Another crazy twist to this picture was the fact that both LaKeesha and I were, of course, men.... However, you would NEVER guess that by looking into James's living room that night. LaKeesha acted the perfect wife, and both of us completely embraced our feminine roles that evening. Cha'relle, of course, was a true woman (the only genetic woman there), but she did not outshine LaKeesha or I with regards to beauty. In fact, the three of us girls were all total hotties. We could have all been real sisters. Our boyfriends and husbands took us by the arms. We were totally their "arm candy." We acted completely as the females, despite our true genders. Both LaKeesha and I were a complete head-shorter (with regards to height) than our men, which made our submissive roles even more apparent when we were compared objectively, side-by-side with them. We clung on close to them as we pulled up to the club. Also, while the guys all had broad, strapping, and muscular shoulders, LaKeesha, Cha'relle, and I all had narrow, sloping, and womanly shoulders. As a long-story-short, we appeared completely as the sassy female companions of three virile black men. We pulled up to the club downtown, which had a long wait to get in out front. The Club was called "The Cotton Club" in homage to the old Jazz Clubs of the 20's, in which blacks could wait tables or play music, but not be seated. In this club, however, the roles were reversed. The club was completely oriented towards African Americans, with long lines of blacks waiting to get past the bouncers. The staff also seemed to be all-black. No white would have any interest in this club... A mix of loud rap/Latin fusion music seemed to be playing from the inside. For James and Kendrick, however, their lofty status was such that they brushed right by the bouncers, who waved us in with a friendly and familiar "hello." The other waitees looked on jealously as the obviously superior black couples were admitted instantly. (James was the type of man who they wanted to have in their club, to add to the "prestige" of the place.) We went in and were ushered to a choice table, right by the dance-floor. About 20 swankily-dressed black couples were "bumping-and-grinding" to the non-stop music at any given time. The ladies all wore stylish dresses; some sparkily, but all very expensive. The guys were all dressed very nicely too. As I walked in, however, I noticed LOTS of leering eyes instantly "checking me out." They had obviously never seen this new babe in here before. The waiter came by and took our drink orders. US "ladies" all ordered three apple martinis, while the guys ordered jack and coke. We sat down at the circular table and chatted some more.... "LaShaunda," said James, "I don't mean to build up your bubble so early, but you have to realize that ALL of the guys in here are checking you out. Admittedly, it is because it is your first time here, but still, you are TOTALLY drawing eyes." "I don't know what to say," I sighed. "Are you kidding me, you gotta get up and work it!!!" What seemed to be a new rap song began playing in this dark club (lit only by strobe lights).... (Honestly, I had never been a big fan of rap music, and I had never been able to tell one rap song from another. Oddly enough, even though I was currently a sexy black woman, I was still a big fan of COUNTRY music.... pickup trucks and trailer trucks. I thought, how crazy is it now that I was once basically a redneck, but now I'm here living a lifestyle that is the complete antithesis of what I used to be.) You could not get farther apart from the red-blooded white man I used to be, to the sissy black girl I had now become. But I could barely dwell on these thoughts, as James was so eager to get up and dance. He had a real passion for all forms of dance.... ballet, salsa, latin, etc. I was not used to dancing to rap music, but I let my natural moves take over, and I began shaking my booty. James moved in rhythm with me. Quite honestly, our dance just "flowed," and James began to get closer and closer. Once again, I felt him began to rub his cock through his pants on my nylon dress. I actually quite liked the feeling, and it was now old-hat for me for James to get a bit "frisky" with me. Another thing was that I felt less inhibited about dancing provocatively with James. Most of the other black couples also danced with each-other in an extremely sexual manner, and even as James grinded against my butt, nothing was really out of place. LaKeesha and Cha'relle also got up to dance with their men from time to time. We danced for what seemed like hours, and both of us got lost in the music. I was really having a good time actually... As I danced with James, I reccollected back to my middle school and high-school years, when I was "Dave Miller, white boy." I recalled that back when I was in school, I was so unpopular and geeky that no attractive girl would EVER agree to dance with me during a school dance. I was sort of an outcast who had to be content with longing at attractive girls from a distance, and engaging in petty acts of vandalism (as paroxysms of frustration) with my other loser friends. I had felt so stifled for all of those years. What a change it was to now be ACCEPTED on the dance floor, and to be invited into social situations by other prominent people. It was AMAZING and so much more fulfilling to be a part of the "in crowd." Back when I was a white boy, popular girls would never give me the "time of day," which had me depressed to the point of suicide. I feared I would die without EVER kissing an attractive girl, much less having sex with one or getting married. Sometimes, it made me wonder how I had ever met a woman and had kids at all. Then, I realized that the whole time, I was really the "wife" in the relationship with Christine. She did not need me as a "man.".... She was the male part of the relationship herself, but she needed a partner (me) to tend to the secondary things and support roles in life while she pursued her big dreams. Again, I was coming back to the reasons why it felt so much more "natural" for me to take a female role in life, and to have James treat me as the "woman." We danced and danced, and the ecstasy and rave could go on forever. However, while I was shaking my butt, I suddenly felt a strange wet-spot grow on the back of my tights.... "Oh no," I thought, "What is that? Surely, I did not have another "female" orgasm or wetness in my "poonany," (like Tanisha had). I looked back, and James had stopped dancing. He seemed to be cringing out of embarassement.... "Oh no, I'm sorry LaShaunda," he said, "I seem to have gotten "carried away."" I looked downward, and it seemed that James had another big wet spot on the front of his slacks. I looked back, and a bit of the seepage had stained my dress. "Oh Dayum," I protested, "What did us DO!!! Now I gots to go clean up.... I just hope that this stain will come out." "Come quick," said James, "I gotta wash up too... Don't worry, yours is so small that I don't think anyone will see." With that, James went off to the males' latrine to clean up his "mess," and I went into the ladies. Fortunately, the bathroom was empty at that moment, and I was able to quickly get some soap on the dress and my tights, which took out the semen stains before they had a chance to "settle" and permanently ruin the garments with white streaks. I gathered myself again, and returned to the party with no incident, and no one else had realized what had happened. James had also been able to fix himself up again well enough, and for the rest of the night, we made eyes at each-other, smiling and laughing. We enjoyed our drinks and chatted the night away!! ----- We had been out so late last night, that I didn't pop out of bed until 1:30 in the afternoon. James had taken off somewhere else long before (to where, I did not know). Groggily, I hauled myself out of bed, still wearing the dress and pantyhose I had crashed in the night before.... "OMG," I thought to myself, "I have a total hangover." I grabbed a soda from the fridge. I let myself wake up, and soon, I heard the mailman making his rounds. He came by our front porch, and then quickly left. "Well, I suppose I'll go see if anything interesting came." I went and grabbed the envelopes, and I browsed through.... I finally came to one, and I thought, "Oh wow, a letter from Tanisha." I eagerly tore it open and began to read. I had been getting worried, as I had not heard from my girls in almost a week now!!! I was so excited to hear how they had been getting along at Dance Camp. (To tell the truth, I was not more than a little jealous that they were getting to spend the summer doing nothing but wearing tights and leotards.... and lounging around a pool and making eyes at boys from the other nearby sports' camps..... Honestly, I would have given anything (my left nut, perhaps) to also be allowed to attend a girly camp like that. A part of me was getting increasingly jealous at the types of experiences my girls would have, with them being being black female teenagers..... experiences that were denied to me because I was older. I began to regret that I had had to spend those precious teenaged years totally wasting time as a dorky white boy, when I could have in fact been a luscious teenaged black girl, experimenting with an Afro and "groovin'" to the Donna Summer and the Midnight Special!!") Before I read the letter, my thoughts drifted to what life could have been like for me, as a little black girl growing up in the 70's and 80's. I began to think about how cool and empowering it would have been to embrace "Black Power".... and to like Michael Jackson and Prince. I loved the fashions of that era too... I could have worn short dresses with tights, and thong-leotards for aerobics. I also could have sported a massive "fro."... Most of all, I could have had silly dates with teenaged black boys... letting them take me out and with me learning how to make out with them!!! - Oh, the life I had missed!! (OMG, my thoughts were getting so CRAZY!!!.... "Yes," I thought, "I will not regret that I missed those formative years anymore.... I could get my hair "styled" into a hot afro the next time I's go back to Paulines!!!.... OMG, can you imagine the look on James's face when I come back and surprise him by sportin' a massive fro'!!! I could look like Gladys Knight!!!") Yep, but I was still jealous that my girls, if they wanted, would basically have 20 more free years to totally live as black woman. They'd get to have experiences like joining a College all-black-female sorority, and living as "sorority sisters..." They could go out to hot clubs in their early 20's, drinking and partying with abandon.... Yes, these things were negatives, but there were so many more things they would get to experience in the primes of their lives as black ladies!!! Oh, how jealous I was!!! - Better late then never, for me, I suppose. I popped open the letter, and began to read with wide eyes.... "Hey Momma, it be Tanisha here.... Summer Camp absolutely be a BLAST.... Me and Ashanti be havin' so much fun. Ok, I don't even know where to begin, but we basically get to dance around and have fun all day. We start with ballet, and then tap, and then in the Afternoon, we do salsa dancin' or just chillin' and steppin' to rap music. We are practicing for a big show for the parents at the end of summer when you's all come to pick us up... So ok, we's get to dance all day, and there are some really cute BOYS that come here too. They's got me ballet partnering with another really cute little white boy named Jason... He is just so precious that I could just eat him up (he have no idea I's be a little white boy too!!!.... and he's always got his hands down by my crotch and spinnin' me arounds while we's be dancin!!!) I's feel like a gurl now though.... Anyway, another cute thing is that they gave us all these really cute black and blue leotards monogrammed with the Camp logo, and we wear these all day with white tights throughout our dance classes. Ashanti also gots' a little black boy dat dey partnered her up wif too.... But ok, anyway, we's do other things besides dancin.... We go to da pool and swim and just hang out in our bikinis... Most of the "Soul Sista's" don' get in because dey don't want to mess up their "styles" and fro's. I'm the same way too, lol. We just hang out and chat with da boys... And you know that to the left of us is a basketball camp, and to the right of us is a football sports camp, so we basically mix wif all of them and hang out. They come and chill with us at the pool and watch are dance classes some time. There are some really cute studs there....... Also, next week, we's be havin' a big dance in the dining hall, where ALL of the other boys are invited... It wudnn't be no fun wif' just us girls dancin' by ourselves.... LOL!!! Anyway momma, sorry for not writin', but it just be so much fun here that we not even thinkin' bout nuthin' else.... How James be doin'? Anyway, I gotta go... the girls all want to model each other's bikinis in a little fashion show... ok bye!!! Love, Tanisha.... " As I read, all I could think was, "Wow, Ryan seems to REALLY be embracing her new identity as Tanisha.... Will I ever get my old son back?" Within a few seconds, however, I was kind of deciding whether I wanted a very short and close-cropped afro, or a giant radiant bush on top of my head. Getting a 'fro would make me feel so "empowered" and liberated as a black woman!!