Panty Mistake free porn video

Panty Mistake I remember hearing an old joke as a kid about a guy in the men's room wearing woman's panties. The guy in the next stall asks "When did you start wearing girls panties?" "When my wife found them in the glove compartment." Pretty lame joke, but it seemed funny to a twelve year old. I should say it seemed funny until it happened to me. A couple weeks earlier I had been out drinking with my buddies on a Friday night and wound up taking this slut out to the parking lot and banging her in my car. As I was driving home I noticed she had left her panties on the passenger seat. When I stopped at a traffic light I opened the glove compartment and tossed them in, thinking I would put them in the trash when I got home. Well after a couple too many beers I forgot all about the panties. Two weeks later my wife Sharon and I were going shopping. Traffic was backed up and she said something about looking at a road map for an alternate route. That's when the shit hit the fan. She pulled out the slut's lacy pink panties and shook them in my face. "Paul, what the hell are these panties doing in your glove compartment?" "I ... well you see ... I bought them." "I can see they've been worn. Who wore them Paul?" "I ... me. I wore them." "Why would you want to wear girl's panties Paul?" "I ... just like wanted to see how it would feel to wear silky panties. You know, I was curious." "Did you enjoy wearing them Paul?" "Um ... yes sort of. They're softer; smoother; more comfortable than my jockey shorts." "Do you have any other women's clothing Paul?" "No just the one pair of panties is all." "If you like wearing panties so much why aren't you wearing them all the time?" "Sharon, I was afraid ... you know ... afraid that you would be upset." "Paul darling this doesn't upset me in the slightest. I was a psychology major. I understand how some men have these urges to cross dress. If you want to wear girl's undergarments all the time you certainly have my blessing." "Gosh Sharon, I really appreciate you being so understanding and all. I was afraid when you found the panties you would think they belonged to some other woman or something." "I'm sure my loving husband would never violate his wedding vows by playing around with other women. After all, if you're wearing panties you would be too embarrassed to even show them. Keeping you in panties would be almost like putting you into a chastity belt." "Um ... yes, I sure wouldn't want to try fooling around if I was wearing panties would I?" "No Paul you surely would not." I was feeling pretty good about how I handled what could have been a really bad situation. I couldn't believe Sharon actually bought my story about the panties being for me. I really dodged a bullet thanks to my quick thinking. Nothing more was said about panties. Sharon and I finished our shopping and went home. As we were getting out of the car Sharon handed me the pink panties. "You should hand wash these so you can wear them tomorrow Paul." "Oh, yes sure." And that's how it started. That night I hand washed "my" panties and the next day I wore them to work under my normal clothing. Other than not being able to use the urinal and having to sit down to pee, nothing really changed. In fact I actually kind of liked the feeling of the slick nylon panties around my crotch. Our evening was pretty normal; Sharon cooked our supper and I cleaned up after we ate. We read, watched a little TV and went to bed. We were both undressing in our bedroom. I was down to nothing but the pink panties and started to pull them down when Sharon said, "You should wear your panties to bed Paul. I know how much you must love the feeling of them. And you look so cute in your pretty pink panties." Looking 'cute' was sure as hell not one of my goals in life, but what could I say? I kept the panties on and slept in them that night. The next morning I got up a little before Sharon and headed for the shower. I threw the panties on the bathroom floor and took my shower, shaved, brushed my teeth and got ready for another day at the office. I walked back into our bedroom in the nude. Sharon was just getting up. I opened my underwear drawer. I was shocked to see that my jockey shorts had disappeared and in their place were a stack of girl's panties in various colors. "Sharon, what happened to my underwear?" "Knowing how much you like wearing girl's pretty things, I took the liberty yesterday of doing some shopping for you Paul. I just knew you would love them. They are all lace trimmed and have those little bows, just like your first pair of pink panties." "You ... you want me to wear panties every day?" "Yes of course Paul. I know how hesitant you must be about revealing your desires. I just want to encourage you to express yourself; to let that girl inside you come out and enjoy life. Come here. I'll help you pick out your panties for today." So I went to work that day wearing pale blue panties. This went on for the rest of the week. Every day I wore a new pair of panties. They actually were pretty comfortable. I figured the inconvenience of having to sit in a stall to pee was a small price to pay for potentially saving my marriage. Friday night was normally "boys night" when I would go to a bar right after work and hang out with my buddies. Since I was still wearing my panties, I decided to pass and went straight home from work. Sharon seemed pleasantly surprised that I arrived home before six instead of after midnight. She greeted me warmly and pushed her hand against my crotch. We soon wound up in bed. It was the first time we had sex since the panty thing started. Sharon insisted on being on top, which she had never done before. She pulled off my panties. The sex was good although I came pretty quickly and I'm not sure Sharon had an orgasm. As my penis was deflating, Sharon raised up and crawled forward, pushing her pussy against my face. I didn't have much choice as she had me pinned down, so I stuck out my tongue and started to pleasure her. Of course her pussy was full of my cum, and I must have wound up eating most of it. That was the first time I had ever tasted semen. I didn't like it, but it wasn't what I would call horrible either. Thanks to my tongue Sharon did get her climax. We got up. She went to fix supper while I washed myself and brushed my teeth. I put my panties back on and pulled on a pair of sweat pants and the shirt I wore to work. Over the next several weeks my life settled down to a routine. I continued to wear panties exclusively, never again went out with the boys on Friday nights, but instead had sex with Sharon. She was always on top, and it always ended with me licking my cum out of her pussy. Sharon had bought me seven pair of panties; one for each day of the week. It was a Saturday morning and I was hand washing my dirty panties when Sharon came into the laundry room with a basket. "Paul as long as you're washing your delicates why don't you wash mine as well." I looked in the basket. It was full of panties, bras and pantyhose. I wound up spending the next two hours hand washing all of her under things as well as my own panties. The next Saturday was the same routine. It seemed that from then on, washing delicates was my responsibility. Sharon was out shopping most of the afternoon while she tasked me with cleaning both bathrooms. When she returned she handed me a shopping bag. "Paul you needed some cute new panties and there was a terrific sale on matching bra and panty sets so I got you seven sets." "I guess I could use a few more pair of panties, but why did you buy me bras?" "They're sold as a set Paul. They can't be separated." "Yes but I don't wear bras. Why would I want to wear a bra?" "Please don't suppress your desires Paul. I know you'll love wearing cute little bras that coordinate with your panties. Now, take off your clothes and let me help you put on your very first bra. I know you must be just as excited as me about taking this next step." I got undressed. She handed me a pink set. I pulled on the panties and Sharon showed me how to put on and fasten my first bra. She adjusted the shoulder straps. "That bra is a perfect fit Paul. It's a 36A, so if you're shopping and see any bras you like, remember that is your size. If you wanted, you could wear a 36B or even C or D cup. Of course you would need padding for them to fill the cups. You look so cute in your pink panties and bra. Stand still while I get my phone and take a couple of photos of you." "I ... I don't want to be photographed like this Sharon. It's too embarrassing." "Don't be silly Paul. The only people who will ever see these photos are you and me. I think I'll start a special photo album of my loving husband dressed in his girly things." I'm not sure why, but when she put my first bra on, I started to get an erection. I always thought of women's underwear as kind of sexy and I guess that came through even when it was me wearing the sexy garments. Of course Sharon noticed my stiffy and pretty soon she was on top of me on the kitchen floor. I guess wearing a bra does have some fringe benefits. From that moment on I knew I was going to be stuck wearing panties and bras for the foreseeable future. And for the next three months that was precisely the case. I wore my bra and panty sets about twenty three hours a day, only removing them for my morning showers. Thankfully my girly underwear went undetected. I wore heavy oxford cloth dress shirts to work and they did a good job of covering the outlines of my bras. After a few weeks wearing my 36A bras, Sharon bought me a couple of 36Cs with padding. There was no way I could wear them to work without it being detected, but she insisted that on weekends at home I wear the C cup bra. One evening when I walked into the kitchen Sharon was frying lamb chops and chopping a salad. There was a shopping bag sitting on the kitchen table. "I bought you a present Paul; actually two presents, one black and one white. They're in the bag on the table." I opened the shopping bag. I wasn't sure what it was. but I figured it was more girl's underwear. I held up the white garment inspecting it. It was made of some kind of heavy stretchy elastic material. It was a rectangular shaped panel with a row of little hooks on one end and a row of matching eyes on the other end. There were half a dozen straps about eight inches long sewn into one of the long sides of the rectangle. "Take off those ugly sweat pants Paul. I want to see how you look in your new waist cinch." "Waist cinch? Is that what I think it is Sharon?" "Yes love. It's a cute little garment that will compress you flabby tummy and give you a much nicer more feminine look." "Ok, I know I've gotten a little soft around the middle thanks to your good cooking, but I don't want to look feminine. I'm a man after all; not a girl." "I think you're a man who wishes he was a girl Paul. I'm just trying to help you achieve that goal. Now take off those sweat pants and put on your white waist cinch." I didn't want a big confrontation, especially not right after we had sex. So I took off the sweats and held up the white waist cinch. "How does this work Sharon?" "Obviously the garter straps are at the bottom of the cinch so hold it with garters dangling down. Wrap it around your waist from back to front and start hooking it." I started to stretch the thing around my waist. With effort I was able to fasten the bottom hook and eye and then slowly work my way up. "I think it's too small Sharon. It feels horribly tight. I can barely breathe it's so tight." "Oh I think it's perfect Paul. I love the way your waistline is defined now. And besides, with your new diet you'll soon be losing pounds so it won't be as tight. I bet in a few months I'll need to buy you new ones in a smaller size." "I really don't want to wear this Sharon. My waist is fine. With this cinch thing on, my pants will probably be too big." "Yes Paul, as we reshape you, I realize you'll need to buy new pants and blouses. But I don't mind spending money on things which contribute to your self improvement. I can't think of a better investment." "Blouses? What do you mean, blouses?" "I simply mean that as you develop a more feminine shape, you'll find that women's blouses will fit much better than those old men's shirts you have been wearing. Shirt, blouse; what difference does it make what they're called? I just want you to wear clothing that fits properly is all Paul." I looked down at my waist cinch. These garter straps were flopping around as I moved. "Have you got a scissors Sharon? I need to cut these strap things off." "You'll do nothing of the kind Paul. How are you going to hold up your nylon stockings without garters?" "What nylon stockings?" "The ones in the bottom of the shopping bag. I got you three pair; black, white and nude. Since you're wearing the white waist cinch, open the white stockings. I'll show you how to roll them, put them on, and fasten them to your garter clips." Fuck. I am so screwed. First I had to wear panties; then panties and bras. Now it looks like I'm stuck wearing the whole nine yards; panty, bra, waist cinch, and nylon stockings. Thankfully there isn't anything, left unless I start wearing skirts or something. The next week at work I wore the works under my dress pants, shirt and tie. Every time I went to the toilet I checked myself out in the mirror, hoping there were no signs of bras or stockings showing through my outer clothing. I guess I pulled it off because no one said anything. I got lucky again Friday night when I came straight home from work. It seemed that Sharon wanted to reward me for being a good boy. Once more she took the top or dominant position and once more I had to eat my own cum when she sat on my face after my ejaculation. After sex we had supper. All I got was a small salad, while she had a steak and fries. "Sharon I need more than a little salad. I'm still hungry." "You better get used to being hungry Paul. By my calculations you need to lose at least twenty pounds to be at your ideal weight." "Twenty pounds? I only weigh 140 now. Do you honestly expect me to diet down to 120 pounds?" "Yes darling, I do expect you to get to 120 within three months." "I'll be skinny as a rail at that weight Sharon." "Yes you'll be as slim as a fashion model won't you my love?" "I mean like if I was a girl and was real concerned about my appearance I could see how maybe 120 pounds would be a good goal, but I'm a guy." "Anatomically you may still be a male Paul, but psychologically you seem to have tilted toward the girl side of life. If you're going to wear pretty frilly girl's clothing, you need a body to match. Don't you agree?" "Hey Sharon, it wasn't my idea to wear bras and nylons." "Oh yes. It wasn't your idea to wear bras. You just wanted to wear lacy pink panties. I suppose I forced you to wear the other things." "No you didn't force me Sharon. You bought all these nice things and I didn't want to hurt your feelings so I agreed to wear what you bought me." "Indeed. I haven't heard any complaints out of you except to whine about how your waist cinches are too tight. I'm addressing that problem by encouraging you to lose weight. I don't see any issues here at all Paul. You are going to do a daily weigh in each morning so I can monitor your progress. I'll create a spread sheet for you to record the data. How does that sound?" "Yes I guess if I have to be on a diet I better keep track of my weight. The sooner I get to 120 pounds, the sooner I can start to eat real meals again." Over the next three or four weeks nothing much changed except for me always being hungry and dropping about six pounds. I continued to go to work wearing bra, waist cinch, panties and stockings under my male clothes. It was another Friday night when something new was introduced. Sharon was wearing an outfit I had never seen before; black top, black spike heeled boots and a long black leather skirt. She was wearing really heavy makeup giving her face an exotic and rather dramatic look. I was hoping we would have sex right away, but Sharon insisted I take a bath first. I always take showers and never used the bathtub, but that night Sharon was quite persistent. She even drew my bath, pouring some kind of fragrant bubbly stuff into the warm water. The bath actually felt nice and I was very mellow and relaxed soaking in the bubbles. Sharon was next to the tub chatting about this and that. Finally she hit me with it. "Paul I want you to use this razor on your legs and chest. Body hair is very incompatible with your new underwear." "Yes I noticed that my leg hair looks kind of weird matted under nylons. I suppose if I have to wear stockings every day it would be better to shave my legs." "Yes Paul, girls who wear stockings always keep their legs clean and smooth. I'm glad you see the merit in that." I figured after shaving off all my body hair, including my chest and arm pits, that Sharon would want to have sex as had become our Friday night custom. Instead, she had me get dressed again. "Paul my love we're going shopping tonight. With the weight you've lost, you need some new pants and blouses." There she goes again with the blouses bit. I guess as long as it fits, I don't care whether she calls it a blouse or a shirt; same difference. She drove us to the mall in her car. We went into one of the department stores and headed straight for the women's department. She flipped through rack after rack of shirts (blouses) and wound up selecting four. They were all of the same style; kind of a shiny fabric with long sleeves. The buttons were pearl. There were four buttons on each sleeve and about eight on the front. The colors she selected were pink, a pale blue, white, and yellow. At work I usually wear either white or blue dress shirts, but I've sure never worn a pink or yellow shirt before. She took me into a dressing room and I tried on one of the blouses. The fit was like perfect. It was cut a little fuller in the chest and a lot narrower in the waist compared to my straight up and down men's dress shirts. I thought they looked awfully girly, but Sharon assured me they would be fine for work wear. After paying for the blouses we looked at pants. I always bought men's pants based on waist and inseam measurements, but these were numbered sizes like ten tall or eight short, etc. I guess Sharon knew how to translate from those size numbers to my measurements because the first pair of pants I tried on fit just right around my waist and butt. The fabric was nice too; much softer than the stuff I normally wore. The only problem was that the legs were a little too long and the pant cuffs dragged on the ground when I walked around in the fitting room. Sharon assured me that wouldn't be a problem. I wound up getting four new pair of pants in black, grey, navy, and brown. After we bought the new pants Sharon led me back to a dressing room. When I exited I was wearing my new pink blouse and grey pants. Sharon tossed the shirt and pants I was wearing into a waste basket, explaining that since they no longer fit properly they were of no use to me. There were no pockets in either the blouse or pants so Sharon was kind enough to carry my phone, keys and wallet into her purse. As we were leaving the department store I nearly tripped when I stepped on my pants cuffs. "Sharon these pants are really too long. I think we should return them." "Don't be silly Paul, they'll be perfect in your new shoes." "What new shoes?" "Follow me lover. I know just the shoe style to compliment your new pants." We left the department store and Sharon led me into a women's shoe boutique. The display windows were full of stiletto heeled shoes and boots. I noticed there were boots on display just like the ones Sharon was wearing. She had me take a seat while she browsed the shoe displays. She drew the attention of a sales girl and pointed towards me. The girl approached, sat on her stool, removed my shoes and measured my stocking clad feet. She went into the back room, returning with three shoe boxes; two of normal size and one which was quite large. She opened one of the smaller boxes and took out a pair of lace up oxfords. They were very similar in style to the shoes I wore to work, except for the block heel, which I guessed to be about three inches high. She slipped the oxfords on my feet, lacing then snug. The fit felt fine. I was instructed to stand and walk about. I was a little unsteady due to the heel height, but could see right away that my new pants cuffs broke perfectly and no longer scraped the floor. Without really asking my opinion Sharon said we would take them. The second shoe box had an identical style shoe in brown. Just to be safe, I tried them on as well and the fit felt identical to the first pair. Again Sharon said we would take them. The larger box held a pair of boots which looked just like the ones Sharon was wearing. They were black leather knee highs with about a four inch stiletto heel. They had a full side zipper and front laces that ran from the toe box to boot top. The sales girl slipped the boots on and zipped them up over the outside of my pants. I felt kind of a rush as I looked down at these ever so sexy spike heeled boots. I stood rather unsteadily and walked a circle as the Sharon and the clerk watched. Naturally I was embarrassed. After all I'm a guy and these were unquestionably girls boots. Both the clerk and Sharon were very complimentary telling me how great I looked in my new boots. I guess if I was a girl like Sharon I would have appreciated their compliments, but their comments just made me feel even more humiliated. I sat back down and started to unzip the high heeled boots. Sharon grasped my wrist as I was pulling down the zipper. "Zip them back up Paul. You're going to wear them." "Sharon, I can't wear these boots. I'm a guy. Men don't wear stiletto heeled boots." "Real men don't wear bras and panties Paul. Real men don't wear garters and nylons. Real men don't wear blouses and girls pants. But these boots are perfect for a girly boy like you Paul." I didn't know how to respond to that. I started to cry. I never wanted to wear any of this stuff, but I just seemed to be in getting deeper and deeper. Every bit of clothing on my body was made for a girl, not for a man. I guess maybe I'm not a real man anymore. A real man would never have agreed to wear this stuff, but a girly boy would. Sharon used to think of me as her man; her husband. Now it seems I've become more like her girlfriend; her lesbian lover. "Sharon this is too much. How can a guy walk around the mall wearing these boots and not be totally humiliated?" "If people perceive you as a guy in drag, I can understand how you would feel humiliated Paul. But the solution to that problem is so obvious even you should be able to see it." "Yes I can see it Sharon. The solution is just to not wear girl's clothing in public." "Paul, Paul, Paul. You can be such a bimbo at times. The solution my love, is to assure that people perceive you as a girl; not as a guy in girl's clothes. You're ninety percent there already love. All you need is a little makeup and some jewelry and people will think you and I are just two girlfriends out shopping on a Friday night." "Makeup? You seriously want me to wear makeup?" "Paul I'm a student of psychology. You know this is what you want. Wearing men's clothing over girls underwear will never fulfill your needs. You need to be a hundred percent girl. I understand that, and I'll support you in your transition to the feminine side. Now, lets go to the cosmetics store and we can get you your first makeover." I am so fucked. How the hell did I get into this mess? How could I have been so stupid as to leave that slut's panties in my glove compartment? The hell of it is, I don't see any way out of this. Sharon actually believes I want to be a girl, or at least to dress like a girl. All I ever wanted was a little piece of ass. I'm not gay. I'm not a transvestite. I'm not a bisexual or transsexual or multi-sexual or metro-sexual or any of that stuff. I'm just a guy who fucked around and cheated on his wife and lied about it. Maybe this is what I deserve for being unfaithful to the woman I love. Maybe this is all like a punishment for my past transgressions. Sharon held my hand as we walked into the cosmetics store. She spent a ridiculous amount of money for a few jars and tubes and powders. When we left I was wearing eye liner, eye shadow, foundation, blush, lip liner and lip color. The transformation was amazing. My face really looked like that of a girl. They even restyled my hair to add to the illusion. Our next stop was a leather goods shop where Sharon bought me my first purse. With no pockets in my clothes, I didn't have much choice. She transferred my phone, wallet and keys from her purse to mine. My new makeup went in as well. She even handed me a tampon and some tissues which apparently are standard contents in girl's purses. The last stop was a costume jewelry shop. She bought me four finger rings, eight bangle bracelets, a steel choker necklace, and an ankle chain. I couldn't see the point of wearing an ankle chain hidden by my knee high boots but Sharon assured me that it was important that I wear it. Then I was seated in the chair where they pierce ears. The store manager asked me how many earrings I wanted and I wasn't sure how to respond. I looked up at Sharon and she said, "Let's do three in each ear for now." I about crapped my pants. Six piercings? I have to go to work Monday. How the fuck can I go to the office wearing three earrings in each ear? My secretary only has two. The only one at the office with more earrings than me is the mail girl who has like eight in each ear plus a bunch of tattoos and a nostril stud. The actual piercings weren't all that bad. The pain was sharp, but momentary. After a few minutes my ears sort of burned but didn't really hurt all that much. I started out with plain stainless steel ball studs. The girl said that after a few weeks they would heal and I could wear hoops or dangles or whatever I wanted. Of course what I wanted was to never have gotten my ears pierced at all, but it was a bit too late for that. We hadn't eaten anything and it was almost nine pm. Sharon suggested a new Japanese restaurant on the lower level of the mall. As we strolled toward that destination I scanned the crowd of shoppers. Surprisingly no one seemed to pay any attention to me. Sharon was right! With the clothes and makeup and jewelry I looked enough like a girl that people just assumed I was a girl and not a guy dressed in girl's clothing. Once I got over the initial fear of being humiliated I sort of started to enjoy being a faux girl. I was fascinated by the clack of our spike heeled boots as we walked through the mall. I know that my stride changed due to the height of my heels. I needed to take smaller steps and sort of swivel my hips as we walked. Basically, I was walking like a girl walks; not like a guy walks. Given the way I was dressed and the crowd of people at the mall, that was a good thing. I began to feel more confident that among strangers I could pass as a female and not draw any undue attention. But I kept thinking about Monday; about what would happen when I showed up at work with my makeup and jewelry and girl's clothing and shoes. We were eating in a quiet corner of the restaurant. "Sharon I'm really concerned about Monday. I don't see how I can go to work dressed like this. Its one thing to pass as a girl among strangers, but I can't imagine walking into my office Monday morning wearing all this makeup and jewelry and girl's clothes." "I totally understand Paul, or should I say Paula? I've been thinking about the work issue for some time. I have concluded that it would be best for you to resign. You know I make a multiple of your modest salary. And you know how I don't relish doing housework. I think the solution is for you to quit working and become the housewife. You'll have all day too keep our home clean and organized; to shop for food; to prepare nice meals for us. How does that sound love?" "Oh Sharon that sounds ideal. You know my career is at a dead end. I hate getting up and going to work every day. I would love to just be able to stay home and take good care of you and our home. That sounds so good to me. Thank you for thinking of it, and for being so successful in your career that I can afford to stop working." Sharon leaned over and kissed me on my lips. Our tongues intertwined. A couple at another table started to stare and whisper. I guess they thought we were a couple of lesbians out on a date. I suppose in a way we are lesbians now; two girls in love with each other, even though one girl still has boy parts between her legs. The next couple of months we settled into our new routine. Sharon got a nice promotion and raise at work. We stopped using a cleaning service; stopped sending out laundry. I took over those tasks. I kept pretty busy all day every day. Sharon discarded all of my old male clothing and I wore girls clothes exclusively. I even started wearing skirts and dresses. She bought me higher heeled shoes; shorter tighter skirts; more and more feminine blouses. My pierced ears healed and I started wearing bigger hoop earrings instead of studs. She took me to another piercing place and I got two more earrings in each ear, plus two small nostril studs; one on each side. Then I removed my blouse and bra and had both nipples pierced. Sharon insisted that her "wife" be tattooed. I got a tramp stamp that covered most of the lower half of my back. There was a lot of fancy scroll work which framed the words "Sharon's girl" in block letters about two inches high. Dieting was a constant in my life and I rapidly approached my 120 pound goal. Our sex life evolved as well. Sharon demanded lots of oral service from me; almost every night, not just Fridays. She stopped allowing me to penetrate her vagina, telling me she never could orgasm from that. Instead she made me put on a condom and then gave me a hand job. After a few weeks of that, she decided I should do my own hand jobs. I felt like I was back in high school when masturbation was my only sexual outlet. When I filled a condom she insisted I consume its contents. I suppose it wasn't that much different than when she would sit on my face. Sharon's logic was that since I was a girl now, it was only natural that I should swallow cum. Sharon sent me to her WomanCare doctor and I left with four prescriptions; female hormones, an anti-androgen which suppressed my male hormones, an appetite suppressant to help me with my dieting, and a tranquilizer to help me emotionally deal with all the changes in my life. After a few months my body started changing; my breasts were growing, my waist got smaller, and my bottom got bigger. Another thing happened that I sort of expected; I stopped getting erections. Our love centered on me pleasing Sharon orally. She even had my tongue pierced and studded as a way to increase the stimulation of her clitoris. Once I could no longer perform sexually as a man, she bought a rather large black strap-on dildo which I occasionally wore to pleasure Sharon. Then the tables turned and she stated wearing it and penetrating me anally. At first I was horrified by this, but in time I learned to like it. It created feelings of pleasure inside me which were analogous to a female having an orgasm. As I look back on my years living as a man, I realize what an asshole I was then. I got drunk every Friday night. I was unfaithful to my wife and disrespectful of most other women. I worked a pointless dead end job. I'm in a much better place now. I am truly happy being a girl. I love my wife and she loves me. I love feminine fashions and can't imagine ever going back to wearing boring men's clothing. I know now that the luckiest day of my life was the day my wife found that pair of pink panties in my glove compartment.