Hosed free porn video

Hosed By Gingerfred Man Chapter One - Nylon teasers They came into the video store where I worked as a clerk. Almost every day. Teasers. Both of them. What made it both great and terrible for me was that it fed my deepest fetish - stockings - as it denied me any fulfillment other than frequent and frantic "self-gratification." Stephanie was the blonde. Five foot six. A full head of countless, tight curls. Swelled, pouty lips. Crystal blue eyes. Absolutely fucking beautiful. BIG boobs. Maybe 42D. Fantastic, shapely legs. Just the teeniest hint of plumpness in the face, tummy and hips- barely enough to be called voluptuousness. Delightful. Jessica was the brunette. Five foot eight. Curly, beautifully-styled, shorter hair. Dark brown, bedroom eyes. A face even more gorgeous than Stephanie's. Full, heavy boobs, maybe 40C. Long, elegant, stunning legs. And that was just the beginning. Both Stephanie and Jessica dressed and carried themselves in ways that would eliminate the scourge of erectile dysfunction from the world. Those girls dressed hot and teased exquisitely. My guess was that the girls were in their mid- to late 20s. Both wore tight, silky blouses that their titties threatened to puncture. Their skirts (never icky pants) were severely abbreviated. So short that the attentive could discern their stocking tops. I was attentive. Stephanie and Jessica wore skirts, stockings, garter belts and four- or five-inch-stiletto heels every day of their lovely lives. Never pantyhose. Never pants. And never what passes for "stockings" these days. Their stockings were throwbacks to a far greater era. Fully-fashioned, 1950s-style stockings. With reinforced heels and toes. And seams. Oh, how I love seams. Just describing those stockings to you has me gasping and panting. Stockings drive me wild. They always have. The sight of a beautiful woman's legs in proper stockings gives me a stiffie. Without fail. Continued exposure to said stockinged legs empties my testicles. Also without fail. Oh, the nights I spent, before meeting Stephanie and Jessica, poring and pouring. Poring over my collection of lovely-lady-in-stockings books and pictures. Pouring out gobs of sticky cum after cum all over my stomach as I imagined making hot, fucky love to those babe-a-licious beauties in my "stroke-book" collection.. Mom and Dad must have smelled the residue of my frequent activity. I don't think you could miss it. Thank goodness they didn't make an issue of it. They had already made an issue of my deciding to take a "find- myself" year before going to college. Mom had the gall to suggest that I wouldn't find much of myself working at a video store. In theory she was right. As it turned out, she was very wrong. Stephanie and Jessica, as I mentioned, were not only superior looking to every babe in my "sticky-book" collection. Their teasing was world- class. Almost every day they would come into the store together. Giving me two girlish waves and an ensemble "Hi, Dwayne," as they came in. Then they would move around the store observing the DVDs, looking for a movie for that evening's entertainment. As they moved about the store, I imagined the forms of entertainment I could offer them. Seemingly by accident, the girls made sure I got an excellent show. Most of the DVDs they inspected just happened to be on the BOTTOM shelves. And they did not bend over in a ladylike manner. Every day, I would get some great views of their stocking tops. I adored the dark "welts" that adorned their perfect thighs. Seeing the "keyholes" at the rear of Jessica's dark-brown stockings one day got me so excited that, after the girls left, I had to close the store and "relieve my tensions" for a good half hour. Sometimes I could even see their panties. That was nice, but I loved the stockings. And the creamy thighs the girls exposed just above them. Every evening they would bring me three videos and ask for my recommendations. I wanted to recommend a threesome, but I played it straight. They listened and usually took my advice, renting one DVD each evening. Sometimes I would wonder. Shouldn't these babes be getting their pussies stuffed by hunky guys every night instead of watching movies? Shouldn't that hunky guy be me? Ha. I was anything but hunky. Five-foot seven. Skinny. Pretty hairless. Kind of wimpy was how most of my male contemporaries described me. Another reason for me to speculate about why Stephanie and Jessica spent so much time in my inadequate presence. Not that I was complaining. My fantasies of making love to those girls were so vivid that after a month of their visits, I didn't need my stroke books any more. All I needed to do was close my eyes, think of their beautiful nyloned legs, touch my "little person" and BAM! Messiness happened. I had two major fears about the situation. The first and by far the most terrifying was that Stephanie and Jessica would stop coming into the store. And that I would never see them again. That was so horrifying that whenever I imagined it, I felt cold sweat. The second, less critical fear was that I would discover that they were lesbians. Manhaters, perhaps. But that beast had duller teeth. If they were lesbians, but I still got to see them, I would never fuck them, but I could still see them, smell their perfume, listen to their giggles and fuel my cummy fantasies. That was kind of a status quo thing, since I didn't really imagine that I would ever fuck them anyway. And I knew they weren't manhaters. They were really sweet to me. We chatted more and more as they continued to visit the store. Stephanie was an administrative assistant at a local doctor's office. I'll bet that doctor's business was booming. Men would actually visit the doctor before they were on their deathbeds. Jessica was a professional person - an endophilologist - for a local corporation. The girls lived together. So maybe they were lesbians. Or just good friends. They were movie fans, they told me. Though I already knew that. I told them my story. Good student in high school, but burned out. Taking a sabbatical year, while I applied to some great schools, then probably attending a mediocre school. They actually seemed interested. Interested enough to ask personal questions about my family. I was the youngest of three boys. My older brothers were well into "making something of themselves." I would get there too. Just not yet. Jessica sometimes asked really personal questions, like "Do you have a girlfriend?" [No] "Have you ever had a girlfriend?" [Blush] [No. But you're my girlfriends.] They giggled at that. Jessica even asked if I had a boyfriend. I really blushed at that. And responded with a testy "NO!" Which made them giggle and apologize. Chapter Two - Teasers become pleasers Well, this went on for some weeks during my "summer of Dwayne," until one Friday afternoon in early August. I had opened the store that day and was scheduled to get off work at 5. While I was happy about being liberated from my boring job, I was disappointed that Stephanie and Jessica would be stopping at the store after their jobs and I would miss them. Oh well. At least I had the prospect of an extended wank session dreaming of them. Or so I thought. I walked out of the video store at 5:05 and what to my wondering eyes did appear but the two loveliest lovelies!! They were standing together, watching the door. Were they waiting for me? That couldn't be. But yes. "We took off early from work today, Dwayne," Stephie said. "We decided you needed some fun in your life." Fun in my life? With them? Ohhhh. "That's right, Dwayne," Jessie said. "You're coming home with us and you're going to watch one of the movies you recommended with us. And we won't take no for an answer." My throat constricted. My cock stiffened. An evening with Stephie and Jessie? At their place? Ohhhhh. Since I was unable to speak, Jessie said, "And don't even think of turning us down, Mister. I saw your Dad today and told him we were Shanghaiing you. Your Dad was really nice, though he never really looked me in the eyes. [Giggle]." She saw Dad?!? Arranged all this? I was dreaming. I had to be. No. It wasn't a dream. They just wanted to see a movie with me. They liked me. As a friend. They were probably lesbians. And all I would get was a movie, company and some startlingly beautiful feminine companionship. I took that deal. "Thank you," I stammered. They hustled me into their red convertible and ten minutes later, we were opening their apartment door. I almost removed my shoes in recognition of its sacredness. Stephanie and Jessica's apartment. The place where they undressed and dressed. And put on their feminine things. And did [gasp] all their private things. Stephie giggled as I paused at the entrance. "Go in, Silly," she said. "We're not carrying you over the threshold." Acting like a dork was not helping my cause. I strode forward and observed my surroundings. A girlish place indeed. Lots of pink things. Frills. Lace. Small television carelessly positioned. Probably didn't even have cable. I mumbled something about it being "very nice." "Glad you like it," Jessie said. "Let me show you the rest." The rest? Did she mean.... "Here's our bedroom," Jessie said. "Our" bedroom? They shared a bedroom? Maybe there were two beds. There weren't. Just one king-sized "workbench" with pink everything, including a large, old-fashioned canopy over the bed, and pink dressers. If they were lesbians, they were the world's femmiest. The bedroom also featured a lovely vanity table, laden with a multitude of cosmetics and beauty products and topped by a huge, well-lit mirror. Some real beauty heavy-industry happened there and the results were obvious. I thought the tour was over until Jessie opened the bathroom door and led me into the enchanted forest. It was the most wonderful place I had ever been. It was large, 15x15 foot square, with a double-sized, sunken bathtub and double-sized shower. But forget all that. The bathroom was a grove of wispy, feathery, ultra-sheer stockings, hand-washed and lovingly draped over every vertical surface to dry. There must have been 30 pairs in there, in shades from near-nude to tan to brown to jet black. All seamed, fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel- and-toe stockings. It was the very epicenter of my fantasies. Amazingly, I didn't cream my pants. And amazingly, Stephie and Jessie didn't rush me or tease me. They just let me drink in the arbor of femininity before me. When my breathing came back to near normal, Stephie said, "Excuse me, Dwayne. I have to get ready for my date. You and Jessie will be watching the movie tonight." Should I have been disappointed? I wasn't. I was excited and confused. But still in the realm of the somewhat normal. Then things began to get strange. Jessie began to natter a bit about how they really liked living there - location, nice neighbors, yadda, yadda. Then she led me from the bathroom to the connecting bedroom and I almost singed my corneas! Stephie had taken her dress off and was sitting in a chair, slowly and deliciously removing her stockings. She didn't seem to notice that I was in the room - observing as each millimeter of exquisite leg flesh was revealed to my lustful gaze. Nor did Jessie, who was telling me some story about a neighbor's dog. I was staring at Stephie. Bad, I know. Puerile, even. But I couldn't turn away. Locked in.... Staring.... "Why don't you take a picture, Dwayne? It'll last longer," Jessie said, quoting Mr. Herman in "Pee Wee's Big Adventure." I blushed nuclearly and was certain that I would be defenestrated and banished from the sacred ground forever. But Stephie and Jessie just giggled sweetly and Jessie gave me a playful punch on the arm. I began to stammer an apology, but Stephie just said, "My fault, Dwayne. I should be more modest, but I'm rushing for my date tonight. It's a special guy. Almost as special as you." And then she unhooked her bra. Freeing "the Twins." The Twins were the two most beautiful titties I had ever seen - in two or three dimensions. Two-inch-diameter, dark-brown nipples. High and firm boob structure. Perfect, curvy shape. As quickly as I witnessed perfection, it was gone. Smiling at me coquettishly, Stephie turned around. She took off her garter belt and then, clad only in brief, pink panties, she girly-ran to the bathroom. Seconds later, I heard the shower running. [Sigh] To be in that shower with her. To be the guy she was hurrying to get ready for. [Sigh] But wait. Jessie was still there, looking at me the way a mom looks at a naughty boy. "I'm going to have to cool you off, Mister," she said. And I blushed even more deeply. She led me into the living room and asked me to set up the movie while she made some popcorn. We both accomplished those tasks and ten minutes later, it was time to watch the movie. Whose name I can't remember. Because it wasn't really relevant to the evening. "You can sit right there, Dwayne," Jessie said, as she pointed to the right side of their three-cushion couch. I sat. When she sat on the left side of the couch, I figured that the popcorn would be my most sensual thrill for the rest of the evening. I started the movie. Jessie smiled at me and stretched a little. Then she said, I'm taking my shoes off. These darned heels look great, but they're tough on the toes. You can take your shoes off if you want, Dwayne." I didn't. My feet probably didn't stink, but why risk further embarrassment? Ten minutes passed. I wondered idly how Stephie was doing on her beauty regimen. Then things took a turn for the better. "Dwayne," Jessie said. I looked at her. "Could you please rub my feet a bit? They're a little sore." Oh my! TOUCH those gorgeous feet, encased by those fantastic stockings????? Oh my! "Uh, sure," I stammered out. Jessie smiled beautifully and reoriented her posture. She lay on the couch and put both of her perfect feet on my lap! Her left foot even grazed my painfully stiff cock Did she notice its condition? More mortification if she did. Reverently, I held her right foot in my hands. Her perfect, red- lacquered toes peeked out from the reinforced portion of tan stockings. The seam ran all the way along the sole of her foot. She was still smiling at me, so I began a soft, gentle massage of her beautiful, right footsie. Her left foot lay inert along the side of my stiff cock as I adored her right foot's instep with my fingers and palms. When she purred softly, I barely escaped a humiliating orgasm. Time stood still as I illustrated my love for Jessica through an inexpert, but eager and adoring massage. When I switched to her left foot, she shifted her posture a bit so that her right foot was now resting along the length of my delighted cock. That couldn't have been random, could it? Anyway, I must have been doing a good job because Jessie kept saying things like "mmmmm" and "so nice." Then things improved. "You're doing a wonderful job, Dwayne, Honey," Jessie said. "You can kiss them if you like." I gasped. Kiss my adored one's feet? Was I worthy? Trembling a bit, I lifted Jessica's left foot to my mouth and kissed each toe lightly. She seemed to like that, so, on an impulse of passion, I sucked and tongued her little toe. Her eyes opened and she sat up straight when I did that and I feared I had gone too far. But no. She eased herself back down and began to purr again as I sucked and licked and kissed each of her ten sweet, nyloned treasures. I was having the time of my life, but then things REALLY improved. Jessie breathed out a fresh command. "Pull your pants and underwear down to your knees, Dwayne. I want to do something as nice for you as you did for me." Was she going to suck my toes too? Not likely with my pants down. I considered the basic rules of thumb for life: Never eat half-priced sushi. Lock up all sharp objects and blunt instruments before telling a woman she looks fat in an article of clothing. When you're with a beautiful woman and she suggests that you show her your prick, do as she asks. I followed rule three. Semi-reluctantly, I lowered my trousers to my knees. Then, blushing fiercely, I shucked down my white Jockey underpants. My cock stood stiff and proud - all four-and-a-half inches of it. Breathing free air. Red, dripping and aching for fulfillment. Casting a glance at Jessie and seeing her approving smile, I wasn't sure what was imminent, but I was pretty sure it would be very nice. "Lift your shirt up to your chest, Dwayne," Jessie said. I, of course, complied. The incongruity of the whole thing flashed through my mind. Why would an ultra-babe like Jessica be willing to exchange carnalities with a wimpy, small-dicked nobody like me? Good question, but it flew from my mind when Jessie lay back on the sofa and lovingly embraced my throbbing peener between the warm, nyloned soles of her angelic feet. That still ranks as the greatest moment of my life. The feelings...oh! Nylonic dreams realized. Sexual contact of the naughtiest (I thought) variety. Jessie was smiling and locking my eyes to hers as she rubbed the shaft like a boy scout lighting a fire. The flame was on in my testicles. I didn't want to cum too soon, but Mamma mia! She was skinning back my foreskin with her toes, then rubbing the sensitive, pink tip of my peeny with her left big toe. All around the peehole! Gasp. Pant. I whimpered like a sissyboy for a brief ten minutes or so, then began to spurt in thick ropes as Jessie giggled with delight. I cried out as the sixth and most intense spurt made me arch my back. Maybe I was wrong about that previous moment being the best of my life. When I returned to the home planet, I fluttered my eyes and surveyed the aftermath. Actually, the there was no math involved, so it was an aftercum. And it was a messy one. All over my tummy and all over Jessie's feet. Good thing Jessie had told me to lift my shirt. But what a mess on her feet! "I think you enjoyed that, Dwayne, Honey," Jessie said. "I know I did. But look at the mess you made on my best stockings. What are you going to do about it?" She was right. Not only had I spurted all over her feet, but she was rubbing her feet all over the hot cum on my tummy, soaking her stockings even more. I didn't know what I was supposed to do, so Jessie helped me. "Maybe you could do the gentlemanly thing and clean my stockings the way you were treating my feet before." Did she mean, lick my own cum off my stockings? I think she did. How did I feel about that? I thought it was very dirty and it made my limp cock begin to stiffen. I had never tasted cum before. And I wasn't sure that eating my own cum from Jessie's toes was going to get me into her panties. But refusing her didn't seem like a good alternative. Jessie had pushed all the cum on my belly around enough that she had most of it on her pretty feet. I raised her right foot, took a breath and began to kiss and lick it all over. The taste was kind of neutral, I thought. Not unpleasant. And I loved licking my Darling Jessie's feet. She liked it too, moaning and gasping in a way that I thought she would even cum herself. Though I had no concept of how women orgasmed or what induced their orgasms. I was just about finished licking Jessie's second foot clean when the bedroom door flew open and there was Stephie. Who had finished dressing for her date. Looking spectacular. And surprised. I mean, there I was, naked from my nipples to my knees, with a cum-and- saliva-soaked face, holding Jessie's cum-and-saliva-soaked foot. Hard to explain that one, wouldn't you say? Stephie laughed. "Looks like you kids have been getting acquainted. Sorry I won't be able to join you tonight, but Eric's pulling into the lot now. He'll be knocking at the door in a few seconds if you'd like to cover up, Dwayne." Both Stephie and Jessie giggled as I scurried to lower my shirt and raise my pants. I wiped my mouth on my sleeve and looked almost presentable when the doorbell rang and Stephie answered it. Oh my. Was this my competition? Stephie's boyfriend Eric was everything I wasn't. Tall, achingly masculine, handsome and muscled. Dressed in a very expensive suit. Probably had a cock three times as big as mine. I hated him, of course. At least I tried to. Stephie introduced me as "our friend Dwayne" and Eric was affable and polite to me, giving me as much, if not more attention as he gave Stephie and Jessie. He even sort of half-leered at me, or maybe I imagined it. I felt very odd talking to Eric. As if he knew things about me I didn't know about myself. Eric didn't stay long. He clearly wanted Stephanie all to himself. And who wouldn't? Her fantastic boobies were spilling out of her little black minidress. She had the sexiest black, fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings on the sexiest, shapeliest legs. Five-inch, black, stiletto pumps that stuck out her bottom and her boobs and screamed, "Fuck me!" Eric was in for a great night, I was sure. And maybe I was too. When we said goodbye to Eric and Stephanie, I waited to see what was next with Jessie. Are you getting the idea that I wasn't fully in charge of the situation? As the MAN should be? I was terrified that she was going to send me home, after having her teasing fun with a pathetic, teenaged, video-store clerk. But no. "Would you like to watch some more of the movie, Dwayne," Jessie asked, "or would you like to join me in the bedroom?" I'll take "Option B" please. Jessie picked up her shoes in her left hand, grabbed my left hand with her right hand and led me to the epicenter of world femininity. "I like you, Dwayne," Jessie said, as she set her shoes down and flashed me her stocking tops. "Do you like me?" I gulped and said, "Very much, Jessica." She smiled and said, "Do you like me enough to do me a little favor?" This was it, I thought. The part where she asks me to murder her estranged husband as Phyllis Dietrichson (Barbara Stanwyk) asked Walter Neff (Fred MacMurray) in "Double Indemnity." Of course, Fred never even got to suck Barbara's toes, so maybe I was ahead of the game. I gulped again and said, "Of course." 1000-watt smile from Jessie. I blinked at the brilliance. "Good," she said. "Then take all your clothes off. I'm going to give you what you really want." No discussion of murdering husbands yet. A good sign. The nakedness could be good too. The "what I really wanted" part was a bit iffy though. What did I really want? A Porsche? World peace? A good, knock-down-drag-out fuck with Jessie? How did she know what I really wanted, anyway? Self-consciously, but compliantly, I undressed, as Jessie searched through her chest of drawers for something or other. By the time she found what she wanted and turned around, I was naked. Not much to say about that. I was no match for Eric. Or Fred MacMurray. But Jessie looked as if I had just won the Mr. Universe contest - skinny, teen, video clerks division. "You're just as I imagined you would be, Dwayne. Perfect," she exclaimed. Perfect for what, I wondered, as I observed what she had in her hands. It appeared to be a delicious black garter belt and an ultra-sheer, seamed pair of black, fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings. Which made sense, I guessed, since I had cum all over the stockings she was wearing. But no. Jessie turned around and asked me to unzip her dress. Which was a good sign, but made me wonder for the millionth time how women undress when they're by themselves. She pulled her dress over her head and treated me to the stunning sight of her challenged, lacy, black bra; wispy, black garter belt; tiny, black panties and stunning black stockings. I was going to be fucking her soon, I knew it. I didn't know why. I wasn't sure how, but we'd be fucking. I knew it. I knew it. I knew it. What should I do first? I mentally reviewed porn movies I had seen. Call her a bitch, smack her and tell her to suck my cock NOW? That didn't seem wholly appropriate. Jessie stepped in and rearranged my fantasies. "Here's the favor, Dwayne," she said in her sweetest, little-girl voice. "I know you love stockings - Stephie and I aren't blind. I know you want stockings. I want you to wear these stockings as I get in my knees and suck your cock and swallow your cum." Huh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Stockings???????? Me???????????? Too much punctuation?!?!?!?! What did those girls think I was? A cold film of sweat formed on my upper lip as Jessie unfurled the stockings and let them flutter a bit for me. They were very nice stockings. And they certainly made my peener twitch. But me wear them? I wasn't gay. Or a crossdresser. Or a gay crossdresser. Was I? But those stockings. I wondered how it would feel to wear them. Just wear them. Not turn gay or anything. Just wear them. Feel their silky caress. Like Jessie's stockinged feet caressed my penis. And there was the matter of that blowjob from Jessie. That was a plus, right? Was Jessie just teasing me so she could take pictures of me and humiliate me? I didn't think so. As I was deciding, Jessie sweetened the pot. She unhooked her bra and released the eighth and ninth wonders of the world. Perfectly shaped. Huge, brown, erect and pointed nipples. She was aroused. Not by teasing. She wanted to suck my cock. And all I had to do was put on some stockings and a garter belt. Which might be fun too, right? Deal or no deal? I took the deal. Jessie squealed with excitement when I told her I would. And she hugged me, rubbing her incredible titties against my chest. Then she opened her mouth for a tongue kiss. Oh my goodness. That was nice. Almost as nice as the feeling I got when she broke the kiss, sat me down and rolled a stocking up my right leg. Stockings and I were meant for each other. Stockings and I met that day, when I was 18, and we sealed a lifelong commitment on our first encounter. I loved the smooth caress and [gasp] the feminine "rush" I felt when my legs were embraced by stockings. Stephie and Jessie were right. It was what I really wanted. That kind of stockings needed a garter belt, so I was hooked up to that little confection as well. The Bettie Page look was mine. Except I had no boobs, long hair, cosmetics or big heels. But my legs were hot. And the night was young. I tried to speak but couldn't. Jessie said, "I know, Honey. Stephanie and I knew soon after we met you. It's what you need. And you need this too." Jessie slid to her knees and began to kiss, lick, suck and tongue my stiff cock. She was really good at it and I was really excited, despite my recent explosion. She knew just how to tongue the "arrow point" on the underside and her occasional licks on my swollen balls put me over the top. She didn't "cap" the head with her mouth, so she didn't swallow my glorious load when it was liberated. So much of it flew onto her beautiful face. I was in paradise. Stockings on me and on my lover. Cum drained from my balls, through the air and onto her face. Limitless possibilities ahead. I helped Jessie up and thanked her profusely. Then I did my gentlemanly duty by licking all the cum I could from her face and chest. We kissed as I held her in my confused-but-happy arms. Why were these girls being so nice to me? A person they had pegged as a stockings-wearing sissyboy. When would Jessie turn into Barbara Stanwyck? After ten minutes of delicious tongue kissing, Jessie asked, "Would you like to do something nice for me now?" Eagerly, I said, "Anything!" That ex-husband she wanted me to kill was toast. But no. "I just want you to do for me, what I just did for you, OK" I agreed instantly. All I had to do was get on her knees and eat her pussy? No problem. Though I had never actually seen a pussy. You just lick it, right? I got onto my stockinged knees and tried to remember what pussy eating was like in porn movies. Jessie turned around and eased down her panties, which she had put on over her garter belt for quick release. For the first time, I viewed the complete gloriousness of her phenomenal ass! In a moment she would turn and I would be smelling, then eating her hairy, I hoped it was hairy, pussy. I licked my lips in anticipation as I saw her reach between her legs and sort of untangle something. Hmmm. What could that be? Jessie straightened herself out a bit, fiddling with her pudenda. Then she took a deep breath and turned around. I looked for her pussy. But it wasn't there. It wasn't there. But a cock was! Six hard inches. Sticking straight up. Large balls in a long, hairy sack. I actually squealed in shock. Jessie looked concerned. But she spoke quickly, "I'm sorry to spring this on you like this, Dwayne, but there's no good way to tell you, is there? This is what Stephanie and I are. And it's what you can become too, if you want it. We think you want it. But while you're deciding, what we've been doing has me in a very bad state, so could you please suck my cock and put me out of my pain?" Shock. Awe. The two most feminine, gorgeous babes on earth were..... They thought I was...... Dazed and confused, I asked Jessie a very odd question. "Stephie has a cock too! Does Eric know?" Jessie gave me a look that said I was the one who held back the "slow group" of life, but she said, in the sweetest way, "Of course, Sweetie. Eric has sucked several gallons of cum out of Stephie's pretty thingee. And Stephie has returned the favor two to one. All our boyfriends know all about us. And it drives them wild with lust." "All" their boyfriends? I thought they were two lesbian babes who watched DVDs every night before munching each other's muffies. Now I find they have cocks and a rich social life. With men!! I wanted to think that all through but Jessie's need for me to suck her appeared drippingly urgent. I hesitated for about 15 seconds. Processing. Then I thought, I've never been so turned on in my life. Jessie needs me sexually. And I'm randy as South African currency. Jessie's my friend. Needy friend. It's not really a cock I would be sucking, since she's a girl. I took her cock into my mouth. It was warm and sweet and delicious. She shuddered with lust. And I was completely delighted. I didn't know much about cock sucking, but what's to know? Enthusiasm trumps technique and I was enthusiastic. Jessie seemed quite pleased with my amateur efforts. When she came in my mouth, she squealed happily. I gulped down what I could, remarking that her cum tasted different than my own. Sweeter, maybe. But about half of it was all over my face and chest, not in my stomach. That girl could shoot sperm! Jessie leaned over and drew me to my feet. She kissed me deeply and tonguily, steering me to the bed where our cum-sprinkled bodies locked in a scorching clinch for a delightfully hot 15 minutes. I had never been so grateful to anyone in my life. Jessie gave herself to me freely. And she gave me the greatest treats in the world - her passion and her compassion. She didn't just give me sex, but understanding. Understanding of my real needs. I got a funny, glowy feeling in my stomach and my eyes filled up with happy tears. No one had ever been so good to me - even my family - as Jessie was being to me. When Jessie saw the tears, she understood and held me in her arms. "I know, Baby. I know. It's a shock to find out who you really are. Stephie and I are happy we can help you. You're not alone." Chapter Three - Alone no more Well it turns out that Stephanie and Jessica were once boys like me. Can you imagine what an atrocity it would have been to allow them to live out their lives as males? S and J knew they were different, but didn't know about each other's differentness and didn't know how to realize their differentness. It turns out that they joined an after-school, extracurricular activity called The Miniskirt Club, where male, high-school students can choose to learn to be pretty and feminine. The club's faculty sponsor, Miss Shagworthy, who was a special girl herself, was wonderful to the new "girls." She taught them femininity as she gave them ample opportunity to enjoy sex with each other and a legion of adoring men. Stephie and Jessie fell in love - with femininity - with each other - and with men in general. Well, I had no intention of ever being with a man. They could just forget taking me down that dark alley. No intention. Forget that. Jessie saw me thinking and decided that I needed a better activity. "Would you like to fuck my bottom, Dwayne? Your little man is stiff again and I'd love to introduce him to my insides." I shivered with delight at the prospect. Jessie lay on her stomach and directed the program. "There are several tubes of lube in just about every drawer in the apartment, Dwayne. That one, right. Just put some on your middle three fingers, then slowly lubricate and dilate my bottom with it. Good boy. Mmmmmm." I didn't think I would ever be putting my fingers in anyone's bottom. An hour earlier, it would have seemed icky. But Jessie's bottom was so pretty. And she was so feminine. And I had to lube her up before I diddled her. So I eased my fingers in and out of her warm spot. One finger, then the second and third. I loved how she gasped and panted for me as I fingered her "pussy." Jessie loved sex. Way more than I would expect a woman to love sex. Another advantage, I guessed, of being a Jessica or a Stephanie-type girl. After about ten very nice minutes of lubrication and dilation, Jessie said, "I'm ready for you now, Dwayne, darling. Slide two pillows under my tummy, then lube up your, big, hard cock and put it inside me. I want you inside me!" OK. Can do. I did the pillow thing, which definitely improved the angle of attack. Then I lubed up my already excited, "big," hard cock - being careful not to shoot my load into my hand, thus ruining the greatest opportunity cruel life had thus far presented. Lubed and ready, I mounted my lover and wriggled my cock around until I felt the wrinkled sphincter. I gave a little push and found the head of my thus-far virginal cock encased by a warm, welcoming hostess. Jessie let her breath out a little, but didn't scream in pain from being fucked by a "large" lover. Rats. She did sort of give me a husky, "That's very nice, Dwayne. Now put it all in and rub my prostate with it. That drives me wild." I wasn't clear on the prostate concept at that time, but if Jessie wanted it, she would get it. By the way, thank goodness that I had only put the head in when Jessie urged me to put the whole thing in. That would be like telling a short person to stand when he already was. So, back to the fucking. I slid the whole 4.53 inches in and two things happened. I loved it. Jessie loved it. Apparently, my tiny tickler caught her prostate very nicely. And anyone who didn't enjoy a fuck with Jessie was a crazy person. She gripped my cock with her ass muscles in a way that curled my toes. She was very hot and very tight (though her lack of pain on insertion told me she had had anal visitors every day of her life for quite some time). I was having the best part of the best day of my life. Listening to Jessie's excited utterances. Feeling her hot bowels embracing my delighted cock and the warm caress of my black, seamed fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings on my smooth legs. I reached around and found Jessie's cock with my right hand. I gave it a sweet tickle as we both neared orgasm. I felt the little warning. Next, the big warning. Then Jessica squealed and pumped her hot cream all over my happy fingers. I joined her in the kingdom of the empty-testicled. Where all is peace, love and beauty. What surprised us both was the girlish squeal I emitted as I pumped my load in Jessie's hot butt. Maybe there was a bit more girl in me than I was ready to admit. I fell forward, putting my full weight on Jessica. She purred nicely as I kissed her neck. As my cock softened, it was involuntarily rejected by its recent hostess. I rolled off Jessie and wondered what was next. A nap sounded good. But Jessie had a better idea. "Call your mom and tell her you're not coming home tonight, Dwayne, Honey." Wow. I called home. Dad answered. "Dad," I said. "I won't be home tonight. Maybe not tomorrow night either. I met a new friend." "You got lucky, huh? With those girls I met today? Wow. It's about time. Congratulations, son. We'll call your cell if there's an emergency. Enjoy yourself." "Oh, I will, Dad," I said. And we hung up. I wondered what Dad would think if it had been a videophone. His alleged, big-stud son was in bed with a gorgeous shemale. His cum was drooling from the shemale's fantastic bottom. And the big-stud son was wearing black, seamed, fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings and a garter belt. Maybe he would be envious, I reasoned. I was having a great time and I recommend it to anyone. Jessie surprised me by her next suggestion. "Let's take a nap." Underneath it all, we were two guys who had just serially emptied our nuts. Like Thanksgiving dinner, that makes genetic males sleepy. I spooned up behind Jessie, cuddled her in my arms, and gladly went to sleep. I had serial, great dreams of my new-found femininity. I was a prom queen and a stripper. It was sexy, but confusing. When femininity is thrust upon you, you have to sort things out. My last dream was a beaut. Someone was sucking my cock and someone else was actually tonguing my bottom! Tonguing my bottom! I had no idea how that felt. So why did it seem so real? Then I found out. I woke up. It was 2 a.m. I was lying on my left side. Jessie was sucking my cock most eagerly. Someone else...oh. Stephie had returned home from her date, stripped to her stockings and garters and was "eating me out." How did I ever get so lucky? The whole scene was so painfully erotic that I soon spurted a big, thick load down Jessie's beautiful throat. She then moved up, face to face with me, to give me a big cummy kiss as Stephanie stopped licking my pootie. Rats. Stephie spooned up behind me and kissed my neck. That was very nice, but I really enjoyed what she had been doing. The neck kissing was nice, though. Very nice. I was actually getting the beginnings of another stiffie again. But then, I felt something very strange. Something was pressing against my bottom. Stephie's cock. That felt nice too. Maybe I would suck it for her later. But then. I felt something strange. Stephie's cock had found my anus. Was she going to...? Oh no. I didn't want that. But I didn't want to ruin a good thing. A really good thing. Still, being fucked was a big line to cross. Stephie had made me very wet down there with her tongue. So it was good and loose for her considerable cock. Which she was intent on lodging in my virginal bottom. Stephie knew her anal sex. Taking and giving. She eased her sweet knob into my stretched pooper and asked me if it felt all right. It was better than all right and I told her so. Of all my genetic traits, the one that will always amaze me is my ability to take large cocks into my bottom without pain. From that first moment with Stephie, at most, I have felt merely uncomfortable when a rammer first probes my anus. I guess if you believe in fate, genetics had long ago selected mine. I was pretty, with great legs and a hospitable asshole. And I happened to be male. But nobody's perfect. Stephie got her whole big boy in me and I squealed with pleasure. Jessie and Stephie were delighted at my natural-born ability. As Stephie fucked me, Jessie kissed me and stroked my cock. It was heavenly. My cock agreed. It stiffened gloriously, which gave Jessie a naughty idea. She turned around, backed into a spoon position with me, lifted her leg and invited me to fuck her bottom as Stephie fucked mine. I accepted the invitation. I slid into Jessie easily and for the first time in my life I felt the sublime joy of being the simultaneous fucker and fuckee. It was a cataclysm of pleasure. Intensified by the beauty, femininity and yes, lingerie, of my beautiful companions. Stephie came first, flooding my bowels for the first time in my life. The sexiness of it all triggered my explosion and only Jessie remained unsatisfied. She disengaged from my drooping cock and climbed over me to take Stephie's place. Jessie's cock was hard. My bottom was creamed and inviting. She plunged in and fucked me vigorously. Stephie moved in front of me and kissed my lips as Jessie fucked me, then pumped her girlish goo into my happy ass. We fell asleep in a girlish heap. As Frankie Valli said, "Oh what a night." Chapter Four - The Morning After Morning seems to follow even the best of nights. When I awoke that Saturday, my bottom oozing cum, my stockings sticky with dried sperm, I was slapped by hard reality. And I slapped back. Sure I had been hosed, then hosed someone, then was hosed in a different way myself. But it was all good. Very good. I was happy. And unashamed. Mostly. I mean, I wouldn't want my grandmother, my first-grade nun and Mr. Spunkwell, my senior-year English teacher, to walk in on me at the moment I awoke. Especially Mr. Spunkwell. Who was my favorite teacher. And I liked him. Because he was nice to me. Not because he was manly and handsome. Especially not him. Walking in on me. Seeing me half-femmy. In pretty stockings. Recently fucked. Especially not him, because I wasn't attracted to him. In that way. At all. I wasn't gay. I just liked wearing stockings and garter belts as I "took it" up the old poop chute from similarly-attired she-males. Nothing odd about that. So on that non-gay Saturday morning, I was ready for just about anything that Stephie and Jessie proposed. Anything except what they actually came up with. The girls gave me a lovely waker-upper: Jessie sucked my cock as Stephie rubbed her huge juggs against my chest as we tongue-kissed. Even with all the exercise Mr. Johnson had had the previous night, he stood smartly at attention, then gave a seven-spurt salute. We had a nice three-way shower after that with lots of kissing and groping. So far. so good. But then, after we dried off and were about to get dressed (an act for which I saw no need, by the way), Stephanie surprised me by saying, "I think we'll get you girlied up, give you a make-up lesson, show you how to walk in heels, put a pretty dress on you, and take you out for brunch. How's that, Dwayne?" How was that? It was horrible!! I couldn't do "full girlie." Not even in private, let alone in some brunch place. It would be humiliating - emasculating - life-threatening!! What if a man saw me and knew I was a pantyboy? What if he pulled my panties down and showed everyone in the restaurant my sissy cock? What if, after that, he tried to do what the girls had done to me - stick his big cock into my tiny bottom? And other gay acts of gayness??? Why was it suddenly so hot? Still, refusing Stephanie and Jessica's requests seemed to be an even worse idea. So I agreed. Reluctantly. Whimpering a little, with a wet tear or two of fear. - I could do it. Just dress up and go. No one would be looking at me with Stephie and Jessie in the room anyway. No prob... "Oh, and one other thing, Dwayne," Jessie said. "I asked your Dad if you had any nice men friends and he mentioned a Mr. Spunkwell, who, I believe, was your teacher. Is that right? Anyway, he'll be joining us at brunch." My eyes widened and tears cascaded from my eyes. I couldn't! I wouldn't. Yet, I did. I was, of course, under the total sway of my sway-hipped seductresses. Even to the point where I would put myself in emasculating, total humiliation's way, just to be able to breathe the same air that they did. And they knew it. It was clear to me, even in my sex-addled state, that Jessica and Stephanie were trying to get me "interested" in men. Or one man in particular. Or one man now and a legion of them later. I was terrified. And simultaneously, fiercely excited. Terrified/excited at the huge possibility of being massively humiliated. Terrified/excited at the emasculation that would inevitably follow that public humiliation. But worst of all, terrified/excited at the thought of seeing Mr. Spunkwell again. Dressed as a girl. In stockings. Would he know it was me? What would he think of me if he did? Would he laugh? That would be the worst. Or maybe it would be worse if he laughed, called me cruel names, then spanked me! Calling me a stockings-wearing homo as each painful swat bruised my bum cheeks. Was all that possible? No, wait. The worst would be if Mr. Spunkwell thought I was hot. And wanted to "do things" with me! Right there in the restaurant! As people were brunching! Ick!!!!!!!!!!!! What if he tried to kiss me? Stick his tongue into my mouth? What if he got hard "down there?" And it turned him into a raging beast? What if he tried to [gasp] shove his cock into my mouth? It wouldn't be entirely his fault. I had looked pretty good in my stockings the night before. And men are just hormone-driven animals after all. But still... What if Mr. Spunkwell threw me on the floor, right in the restaurant, pulled my panties down, then forced himself on me? Kissing my "wrinkle!" Licking it so that he could pull out his "stiff business" and FUCK me!??!?!? I was gasping and panting at the horror of it all as Stephie and Jessie happily shaved my legs, then [blush] shaved me around my "pink wrinkle." The fantasy about being practically raped in public was so silly. I dismissed it. Mostly. And paid extra-special attention to what was happening to me/ At the delightful, but insistent shemales' urging, I was pulling on a pair of tan, ultra-sheer, seamed, fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and- toe stockings. Over my freshly-shaved legs. For the first time. Which was very different from the first time my mildly hairy legs hosted a pair of nylonic delights. It was like Almond Joy candy bars used to describe themselves - "indescribably delicious." Every man must do that at least once in his life. But that was only the beginning. The two pushy shemales hooked my stockings to a white, ruffled, garter belt. Touching the exposed, creamy flesh above my stocking welts as they attached each clip. Oh! Marginally tamer fantasies invaded my brain. What if Mr. Spunkwell reached up my skirts and tried to touch me THERE? On my tender, exposed thighs? I would have to fight him off! Tell him NO! Because I was NOT gay! But what if he caressed each thigh thrillingly as he told me how beautiful I was and how much he had always loved me? What if that made my peener stick straight up? And leak in my pretty panties? What if, sensing my unwilling arousal, he took that as consent to do gay things and began to kiss me as he rubbed my stiffie through my sheer, silky panties? What if I opened my mouth and sucked his tongue as he rubbed my enflamed knob to a ball-draining orgasm? Right there in the restaurant! It wouldn't be my fault. Any of it. It sounds homosexual, but it's all very hetero. I would be engaging in what appeared to be homo activity for very hetero purposes. Staying in Jessie's and Stephie's good graces. So I could fuck them. Heteroly. And suck their hetero cocks. While I was wearing seamed, reinforced-heel-and-toe, fully-fashioned stockings. With a garter belt. And taking the cock of the girl I wasn't fucking at the moment up my bumhole. See what I mean? Pure hetero logic. I was in quite a state when Jessie and Stephie gave me my first cosmetics lesson. Though I couldn't pay much attention to what I was doing since I was stunned by the evolution my face underwent as it assumed foundation, lipstick, blusher, eyeliner, eye shadow and mascara! I was a real beauty!! Not as pretty as Jessie or Stephie. maybe. But real potential to play in their league some day. As I was coming down a bit from the dazzle of my beauty, the ladies challenged me by putting strappy, red, three-inch-stiletto sandals onto my stockinged feet and then giggling wildly as I tried to stand. Followed by more peals of laughter as I took my first high-heeled steps. I was a bit ticked to be the object of their mirth, so I concentrated on the task. Twenty-eight minutes later, the girls clapped in awe as I strode easily in the girlish shoes. It's great to be a quick study. Though it hastened the moment when, in a pretty white minidress with big red polka dots and flouncy skirts, I sissied out to their car, got in and headed out to my doom. We parked in the lot of a trendy brunch spot and I carefully dismounted the car. Keeping my legs together. Keeping panty viewers at bay. Though it didn't seem that any panty peepers would be looking at me with Jessica and Stephanie as my companions. Apparently, I was selling myself short. True, I didn't have big boobs. Or any boobs, for that matter. But I got at least my share of male drool when the three of us entered the restaurant, then va-va-voomed our way to our table. I was blushing from all the "unwanted" attention and trembling from the fear of Mr. Spunkwell's reaction. So upset was I that I didn't see him, already at our table. He was standing politely. Paying no attention to Jessie and Stephie. While smiling, dare I adverb it, lovingly, at me. "It's wonderful to see you, Dwayne," Mr. Spunkwell said. "You're amazingly beautiful. I'm flattered and flabbergasted that you wanted to have brunch with me." These words stuck in my mouth: "But I didn't want to, Mr. Spunkwell. Jessica and Stephanie blackmailed me about withholding stockinged sex if I didn't". Instead, I just blushed and smiled. Quite girlishly. "She calls herself, 'Jeanette' now, Mr. Spunkwell," Stephanie lied seamlessly. "Jeanette?" But I.... Where did that come from? My name was... "Jeanette. What a lovely name for a lovely girl," Mr. Spunkwell said. I blushed and smiled. OK. This wasn't all going the way I had fantasized. He wasn't mocking me or ravishing me. He was acting sort of, well, smitten by me. Wasn't that worse? For my fragile heterosexuality, I mean. And why was he looking so handsome and muscled and manly? And being so polite and attentive? I asked myself that. And my cock asked more loudly. It was standing at the complete vertical and leaking like a Congressional committee. He pulled out my chair. Went and got my food. Told me how pretty I was. A lot. Told me how he had always wondered what I would be like if my femme side emerged. My femme side? Until the day before, I didn't know that such a side existed. I did a lot of blushing and smiling at that brunch, but very little eating. I pretended to look down at my plate now and then, but I was actually looking at Mr. Spunkwell's penile region to see if I had excited him. And if he had a lot there to excite. Yes and yes. Which was good to know and bad to know. You know? Anyway, my lovers/ tormentors seemed to be having a wonderful time. Chatting and flirting with Mr. Spunkwell. Though the flirting fell a bit flat. He only appeared to have eyes (and cock) for me. Then I wondered. What fresh hell did Jessie and Stephie have planned for me? Would they suggest we move to a local dungeon, where they would tie me up, strip me down to my bra, garters, stockings and heels while Mr. Spunkwell satisfied all his filthy urges with my hetero-yet- powerless body? Phew! Why was it so hot in that restaurant? The reality was much tamer. Or so it seemed. We finished our meal. Mr. Spunkwell gallantly paid. He held my chair. I got up. He touched my batre shoulder and said, "I'm very much looking forward to having dinner with you tonight, Jeanette." Dinner? I didn't agree to have dinner with Mr. Spunkwell! Who was and is a man! Dinner wasn't like brunch or lunch. Dinner was a date. With date things to follow. Like sex!! Horrors!! I began to question the premise when Jessica stepped in and said, "Yes. Thank you for brunch, Mr. Spunkwell. We'll bring Jeanette to the restaurant at 7. Let's go, Jeanette. We have a busy afternoon." Dinner? At 7? Busy afternoon? Jeanette? Huh? Chapter Five - Restoration Stephanie drove the car (though I find it hard to believe that she could do so in 5-inch stilettos) as Jessica and I sat in the backseat. I was looking at my hand where Mr. Spunkwell had kissed it, ever so gentlemanly, as we parted/ A kiss on the hand. That was all I got. From that man person. Nothing homo, really. I didn't want homo. Have I mentioned that? So why did I keep looking at my hand where he kissed me? And why had my penis been painfully stiff for 90 straight minutes? Which made my balls bluer than the deep blue sea. Jessica recognized all the symptoms. "You need relief in the worst way, honey. Your balls must ache like an abscess in your wisdom teeth. Just scoot your hips up and get those panties down. Nurse Jessica knows just the treatment." I whimpered needily. And most unmanfully. As I lowered my panties to my knees and held my skirts up for Jessica's sweet attentions. Jessie kissed the dripping lips of my "little person," then looked me in the eyes and observed, "You have that blushing-and-smiling-shy-girl thing down, Jeanette. Men love that. You're already quite a prickteaser, aren't you?" I blushed and smiled. Hoping she would "relieve" me before my "peanuts" got gangrene or something. Jessie smiled back. Then gave me a super-sexy, saliva-rich, lipstick- intensive blowjob. I fired my baby bullets into her pretty mouth and shuddered with delight and relief as I watched her devour its creamy goodness. It was so delicious and satisfying that I was almost able to ignore that as Jessie licked my helmet, I was fantasizing that it was Mr. Spunkwell doing the dirty deed. Was Jessie a mind reader? Probably. Because as my temporarily incapacitated soldier slipped out of her mouth, she asked, "That was the most cum I've seen you make, Jeanette. Was that for me or for Mr. Spunkwell?" I stifled a gasp. And merely blushed and smiled. I had barely stuffed my drooping and leaking prick into my panties and reordered my garments when Stephie pulled into a parking garage under a large downtown building. Few places were taken on that Saturday. I asked where we were going. "Some place you will love, Jeanette," Stephanie said. Hmmm. Was it a ten-year reunion of a high-school football team where my heterosexual body would be offered up for the amusement of 30 twenty- something studs? Was it a kissing and fondling booth where men would pay $100 a minute to feel me up as they sucked my tongue? I wouldn't put either of those past Jessica and Stephanie. Oh no! My stiffie was back. Just from imagining those worst-case scenarios! How hetero was I still at that point? We entered the parking-garage elevator and sped to the 16th floor, where a big reception desk and a logo with the letters HRL greeted us. HRL? No sign of hunky ex-linebackers. Or booth enthusiasts. So far so good. Then things changed. In the form of the most sex-dripping creature I had ever seen. A woman (?) standing six feet, with an additional 5.5 inches of stiletto heels. Stunning facial beauty! The longest legs I had ever seen - encased spectacularly in black, seamed, reinforced-heel-and-toe, fully-fashioned stockings. Boobs that dwarfed those of Jessica and Stephanie!! And an outsized ass that was plump, but not fat. In a skin-tight, electric-blue minidress. She seemed to be about 40 years old, but that "seasoning" added to her sexiness. And she was looking at me and smiling. "Thank you so much, Stephanie and Jessica for bringing Jeanette by today. You're a rare beauty, Jeanette. and I hope you will let me help you bring that beauty to its full potential." Blushing and smiling wouldn't do it with that babe, so I stammered out a "Thank you, Ma'am." "You're welcome, Jeanette. And you may call me Ms. Stunner." [Gulp] "Welcome to the headquarters of the Hosiery Restoration League, Jeanette," Ms. Stunner continued. "It is our mission to relieve the world or the scourge of pantyhose or even [shudder] bare legs on women, shemales and crossdressers. Thanks to the extraordinary generosity of like-minded, male donors, we have been able to stand on our stockinged legs and fight for truth, justice and the hosiery way." At least I think that was what she said. It's hard to think straight when your cock's straight. I never wanted to fuck anyone as much as I wanted to fuck Ms. Stunner. And she knew it. She obviously got that reaction a lot. She knew what was on my mind about something else too. "You needn't look for a lump in my genitals, Jeanette. I'm a genetic girl. Born and raised. The HRL is a big tent. Any stocking lover is welcome, not just pretty boys wanting to be prettier." Ms. Stunner was a natural-born female? Wow! There was a plot twist, huh? Anyway. I didn't know any of it at the time, but Ms. Stunner was a committed stocking enthusiast since the age of seven. Even though her parents didn't allow her to wear seamed, reinforced-heel-and-toe, fully- fashioned stockings, garter belts and heels until her 12th birthday. She wore and wears them every day of her beautiful life since then. Which got her intense male attention from the age of 12 years and one day. And pregnant by the age of 18 years and three days. Again at age 21. And twice more at the ages of 23 (twins) and 25. Mother of two girls and three boys, one of whom was a shemale, one a crossdresser and one a hetero stud who fucked girls, crossdressers and shemales who wore stockings, garters and heels. Grandmother (!) of six! It seems that the babe I had guessed was 40, was actually 53, with children who were 35, 32, 30 (x2) and 28. Ms. Stunner had been married to her only husband, who was the father of the youngest three children, for 31 years. Before we anoint him as the luckiest man on earth, we need to recognize that their loving marriage was based on a sound principle insured to ensure its surety. Ms. Stunner's husband had full access to the loving arms, vagina, anus and mouth of his constantly-damp-pussied wife every moment except when she was working or sleeping and except for two weekly periods. From 6 p.m. on Friday until 9 a.m. on Saturday and from 6 p.m. on Sunday until 9 a.m. on Monday were "Ms. Stunner can be anywhere she wants with anyone she wants doing any nasty thing she wants and NO ONE can ask questions about it" times. So Ms. Stunner's husband could put up with cuckoldry for 30 of each week's 168 hours. Fucking her silly in all three stunning orifices for much of the other 138 hours. Or he could divorce her. He chose wisely. And so did I. I stood there and listened as Ms. Stunner looked me over from all angles. "Yes," the world's sexiest grandma said. "You will do very nicely, my dear Jeanette. Very nicely. I don't imagine that those two scamps Stephanie and Jessica said anything about why you're here, did they?" Rather than throw my two best sources of ball-busting sex under the bus, I just blushed and smiled. Ms. Stunner actually giggled at that. With the looks and demeanor she had, she would have been a five-star dominatrix, but that was not her style. "Of course they didn't, Honey. The girls, who were two of my greatest transition achievements in 30 years, by the way, brought you here because a) they like you a lot, b) want you to be happy and c) know that the Hosiery Restoration League is your key to that happiness. They also owe me, and know that it's girls like you who fund the League." I was confused. Ms. Stunner saw that and said. "No, Sweetie. No one is cleaning out the $70.12 from your savings account. Let's say that you'll be the catalyst for our funding by a number of wealthy stocking enthusiasts." That confused me even more. Why would wealthy stocking enthusiasts give money to the Hosiery Restoration League because of me? Unless... Oh no! Did she want to... "No, Sugar," Ms. Stunner interjected. "No one is whoring you out. You'll be given some options about meeting one or more male admirers, who will help you get on your feet as you transition fully from Dwayne to Jeanette." "But I'm not gay" I blurted out. Ms. Stunner smiled and said to Stephanie, "Does that sound like anyone we know?" "Yes, Ma'am. Jessica and me when we were 18." Ms. Stunner smiled and said, "So true. And are you gay today, my sweet girls?" "No, Ma'am," Jessie and Stephie said in chorus. "Of course you aren't. You are both masterpieces of femininity. The feminine loves the masculine." That made some sense, I guessed. "And what's all this nonsense about your fear of sucking cock and taking a big cock up your bottom, Jeanette? My spies tell me that you did all that and more with Jessica and Stephanie." I looked to Jessie and Stephie to confirm my nuanced contention that sucking a beautiful shemale's cock and taking said cock up one's pooper was not "gay" in the traditional sense. But nuance was losing big with Ms. Stunner. "Enough of that for now. Jeanette has her photo and video shoots to do and Stephanie and Jessica have their Saturday afternoon dates. So let's go, Jeanette." Photo shoot? Video shoot? What was she talking about? Shoot! The girls kissed me goodbye and disappeared. Ms. Stunner led me to an inner studio, where I met Franco. Franco. The chief photographer and videographer. Who would be recording my beauty for the HRL restricted-access web page. So that a bunch of rich, clearly homo pervs could look at me in makeup and lingerie and beat their cocks to an early grave. Imagine that. Men. Masturbating and cumming hard as they fantasized about making sweaty love to Jeanette, the feminine me. My erection was back. Stiffer than ever. And Franco noticed. I blushed and smiled. My goodness. I was becoming a prickteaser, wasn't I? Anyway, that afternoon, Franco and his assistants were either dressing me, making up my pretty face, posing me or otherwise directing me through one scenario after another. The only constant was that I was always wearing seamed, reinforced-heel-and-toe, fully-fashioned stockings and heels and my legs and face were in every shot. Most of the pics and vids were rated PG. I would be wearing a pretty dress and big heels in a garden or a living room. Some were rated R. I would lift my skirts to show my stocking tops and panties -tented with my fierce and painful erection. Franco frequently asked if he could give me some "stroke relief." But I was pure and hetero. Until we reached the X-rated stuff. Me in just my lingerie. Pantied and then [blush] unpantied. Showing my popsy and my pretty bumhole to who knows how many men. Making them shoot their disgusting fluids. Because of my beauty and sexuality. Franco sensed my distress and, before I could protest, he skinn