So Convincing free porn video

SO CONVINCING by Throne "But honey," Bert said, trying to sound reasonable. "Can't we just discuss this?" "Again?" his wife Marlene wanted to know. She was a shapely blond with full breasts, and several inches taller than her spouse. "We've been through it all before. You were crossdressing behind my back, I caught you, and instead of throwing you out on your panty-wearing ass, I let you stay. I'm even trying to make you as convincingly feminine as I can. You could pass for a chick right now. What's to complain about?" "I know you're proud of your work. And it's pretty amazing. I mean, even I would mistake me for a real girl. What you've done is so convincing. But did you have to invite your friend Shirl to come and see me?" "Well, Berta," she said, giving added emphasis to his femme name, "I won't be convinced I've achieved perfection until I get an unbiased independent opinion. So yes, she has to see you." "No one else has ever seen me as Berta." "Would you rather I showed around all the pictures I've taken of you in your pretty outfits? Along with the ones that show, step-by-step, your transformation? And those special ones of you practicing your oral technique on that big fat dildo I got you?" "That's not fair, Marlene. You know I'm not gay or anything. I just like to dress up." "So you wouldn't mind if I showed those shots to, let's say, that nice Ms. Jackson who's your boss at work? Or your secretary Tina, who Ms. Jackson tells me you like to flirt with? You think Tina would like to see you in panties? How about those special panties with no crotch in them, so she can see your dick's only four inches long, and skinny as anything? Hmmm?" "I..." He saw the futility of arguing. "All right. Shirl is going to see me. But please don't let her stay too long." "Not too long. She and I have appointments at the nail parlor. So we'll have to go pretty soon after she arrives. Okay?" "That's some consolation, I suppose." Bert went to the full length mirror in his room to check himself over. He had to admit that this was the most feminine he had ever looked. Short and slightly built, it was easy for him to assume the female roll. At the moment he had on a blouse with vertical rainbow strips, and under it a bra will small, liquid breast forms in its cups. His navy blue, pleated skirt was longer than he preferred, falling to mid-calf. Bert had nice legs, especially like now, when they were encased his shiny stockings, and liked to show them off. His collar length hair was worn straight, parted in the middle. He reminded himself that Shirl would only be there for a brief time. Once they left he would be by himself and maybe switch the bikini- cut panties he had on for the new ones he'd gotten, covered with ruffles. He pictured himself in them, holding up the hem of his skirt, turning around and wagging his ass while he admired his reflection. Sure, it would be a good day despite this one problem. The doorbell rang and Marlene called for him to answer it. He didn't like doing that. What if someone outside spied him? Nevertheless, as accustomed as he was to doing what he was told, Bert went and put his hand on the knob. He took a deep breath to steady himself before he opened the door. As it swung inward he was confronted with Shirl, who resembled his wife but with auburn hair... and someone else. Standing slightly behind her but easy to see because he was very tall and broad-shouldered, was a swarthy guy with dark hair and piercing eyes. Bert staggered back a few steps. As Shirl breezed in she said, "Well, I finally get to see the famous Berta." The towering young man followed her in, eyeing Bert with an unreadable expression. Marlene appeared with a bottle of wine and two glasses. She seemed as surprised as Bert had been to see that Shirl was not alone. "Oh," Marlene said, overcoming her shock and adding a hint of sultriness to her voice. "Who's your friend, dear?" "This is Derrick. He's putting a new roof on that shed that's attached to the back of my house. I thought he could take a look at the door to your basement." She looked significantly at Bert and added, "I know you don't have anyone here who does handyman jobs." "That's terrific. And hello, Derrick. Let me get another glass." The big man looked straight at Bert, "And one for her? I haven't been introduced to..." Marlene said uncertainly, "Oh, that's my... um..." Shirl rescued her with, "That's Marlene's cousin Berta. She's here for a visit." Derrick put out his oversized paw of a hand to Bert. "Pleased to meet you, dear." Bert extended his arm and those long thick fingers enclosed his entire, much smaller hand. An unfamiliar tingle ran up his arm. It was so strange to be seen as a woman by Shirl, but stranger still to pass with another man. Derrick held Bert's hand just a bit too long before releasing it. Marlene and Shirl fetched more glasses and returned with them. Bert had felt obligated to be a polite host -- or hostess -- and invited Derrick to sit down. The visitor went to the sofa and put himself at one end. He patted the spot next to him for Bert. Moving uneasily, Marlene's husband went and sat alongside their guest. The women lined up the glasses on the coffee table. Marlene had a corkscrew to open the bottle, but before she could start, Derrick volunteered to help. He drove the pointed end into the cork and twisted it deeper and deeper, before effortlessly extracting the cork. He handed the bottle to Marlene, who poured equal servings for each of them. Everyone picked up their glasses and Shirl raised hers in a toast. She said, "To new friends," as she locked her gaze with Bert's. He felt his cheeks grow warm and knew he was blushing, at the same time wondering how much his make-up hid the reaction. They all clinked their glasses. Bert took a sip, which he hoped would help to settle his jangled nerves. He didn't handle alcohol well, but what harm could one glass do? As the women chatted, Derrick let his leg drift to the side, doing a little man-spreading, so that his muscular thigh touched Bert's soft and hairless one through the thin material of Bert's dress. Derrick was powerfully built all over. That might be partly from the type of work he did, performing home repairs, but there had to be regular visits to a gym to yield that much development. As Bert continued to sip his wine he relaxed slightly. To his relief, Derrick stood and excused himself, asking where the lavatory was. Marlene directed him and then, at least for a few minutes, he was gone. Bert leaned toward the women, who were on two chairs opposite him, and in a strained hiss, asked, "What's going on? I didn't expect Shirl to have anyone with her, least of all that... that..." Shirl offered, "That gentle giant? That mocha muscleman? Sorry, Berta. He showed up at my house to drop off some materials and I happened to mention your wife needing work done. He insisted on coming with me." "Well," Bert said tightly, "you can just take him with you when you go." "Whoa," Marlene cautioned her spouse. "Manners, Berta. No need to get all huffy. I'm sure Shirl will be happy to cooperate." "Sure," Shirl agreed. "We can... Oh, wait. I can't ask him to come to the nail parlor with us. Derrick wouldn't want to do that. You might, Berta, but not him." She chuckled. "Well," Bert said quietly but urgently, "you can't leave him here with me." "His truck is still at my place," Shirl pointed out, sounding reasonable. "His big powerful truck. And we'll only be... well... a few hours." "A few...?" Bert was horrified. "You can handle him," Shirl said reassuringly. "He's big but he's a sweetheart. It's not like he's going to jump you." "Well," Bert shook his head, "I don't like how he was looking at me. And he put his leg against mine. I'm sure it was intentional. What am I supposed to do while we're alone together? I mean, if he does try to, you know, get friendly." Marlene snickered. "Oh, Berta, you're such a worrier. If that linebacker of a stud does anything, just tell him... I don't know... tell him you're saving yourself. You know, preserving your precious virginity for the right guy." Bert hung his head. "This is terrible." "Yeah," said Shirl. "Sorry about that." She didn't sound sincere. "One thing, though. Derrick's a peaceful man but, honestly, I don't know how he'd react if he found out you're a guy. So, whatever you do, don't let it slip. Or maybe don't let it slip out. Keep those legs crossed, Berta." "That should work," Marlene seconded. "What you've got down there is awfully small, Berta, but it still looks like a penis." Before the harried husband could respond further, Derrick exited the bathroom. He came back and sat again, this time even closer to 'Cousin Berta'. The unhappy TV wriggled his panty-clad bottom and inched himself away. "Well," Shirl said, rising suddenly, "some of us have important business at a place called Nail Perfection. I'm sure you two will be fine until we get back. Just enjoy the rest of the wine and..." She waved her hand in small circles. "... get to know each other." "Sounds like fun," Derrick said. He reached out and refilled Bert's glass without being asked. As the dusky guy settled back onto the sofa he reclaimed the short distance Bert had put between them. Marlene gave her spouse a meaningful look as she said, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do, you two." Derrick laughed. Bert forced a smile. As soon as the ladies were out the door, Derrick lifted his glass and gestured for Bert to do the same. The reluctant TV did it. He was caught off guard as Derrick hooked his long powerful arm through Bert's shorter and not at all developed one. Though their arms were joined, each of them had their own glass in front of their face. Derrick grinned at Bert and winked. The friendly man took a drink and Bert, not wanting to start anything that might lead to Derrick realizing he was male, did the same. His head was buzzing a little but he told himself he was still very much in control. Shirl's warning about the unknown consequences if Derrick discovered his true gender kept replaying in his mind. "So," Derrick said, taking back his arm but now leaning toward Bert, "how long are you staying here?" Off the top of his head, Bert blurted, "Just till the end of the Summer." "Oh? Two more months. That's nice." Why hadn't Bert told him two more weeks? Or days? He nervously drained his glass and then, with disconcerting speed, Derrick replenished it once more. They talked about how nice the weather had been for the time of year. Derrick mentioned how the home team was doing in baseball but Bert was at a loss, not being a sports fan. Then Bert, eager to have something neutral to discuss, mentioned reality TV shows. Derrick asked him which ones he liked and, without thinking it through, Bert said his favorite was By Design. Derrick gave him a quizzical look. Bert saw his mistake. Still, he had to explain or else appear rude. "It's a competition, between young designers, to see who can create the best outfits. Each week they have a different challenge. Like to dress women with a particular body type." When his listener just kept waiting for more, looking straight at him, Bert continued, "The contestants get to pick fabric and..." Derrick's hand went to Bert's thigh, feeling it through the dress. He said, "This is nice fabric. It feels so smooth and soft and... touchable." Bert froze, just when he should be discouraging the big, coffee- complexioned guy's advance. He saw that his lack of response might be taken as acceptance, even encouragement. Bert put his fingers on top of Derrick's, intending to gently move the offending hand away. An overgrown thumb caught Bert's hand and held in there. "It's okay," Derrick said, "I'll go slow. Let's not rush into anything. Just do what Shirl said and get to know each other better. Maybe a lot better." He started stroking Bert's arm, which made the husband anxious. Desperate to say something, anything, that would stop what was happening, he remembered the words his wife had advised him to use. He steadied himself and, being careful to continue using his femme voice, said, "You see, Derrick, this thing is... I'm saving myself." "Oh," Derrick said. His thick black eyebrows went up. "Saving yourself. I understand." He withdrew his roving hands. "I know what that means." Bert was so relieved. He told him, "Thank you for understanding." "It's fine. I've had other girls say that." Suddenly he wore a wolfish grin. "And everybody knows what it really means when you say that." "Well... yes. I mean... it means... I'm saying..." "It's okay, sugar. You just want to keep your cherry intact. Kind of old fashioned but I respect it. So you want to get me off another way. With a pretty mouth like yours, that won't be hard to do." He gave her a conspiratorial smile. "But I hope you take your time." Bert tried to correct the obvious miscommunication. As he started to speak, Derrick put one thick, upraised finger over his lipstick-covered mouth and made a shushing sound. That broad hand resettled on his thigh and gave it a squeeze. Bert didn't know what to do. He definitely didn't want to risk having Derrick touch his hidden privates. The broad-chested man's other arm went around Bert's shoulders and he held him close. Hoping to buy precious minutes by distracting him, Bert leaned against that solid body and awkwardly put his hand on Derrick's knee. "That's a good start, honey," Derrick said, amused by Bert's reluctance, perhaps thinking it was just an act, "but what you want is up here." He lightly gripped Bert's wrist and moved his hand higher, right onto what was inside Derrick's pants. "Oh my..." Bert gasped. "It's... ginormous." "More than a mouthful," Derrick agreed. "Which you'll be finding out real soon. But you're kind of shy for a girl who's asking for it, using that coded thing about saving yourself. So how about for right now you just rub it, like you're petting a kitten." He moved upward on Bert's thigh again. Alarms went off in the TV's head. He had to prevent Derrick from going any higher. At once Bert started running his hand over the alarmingly large bulge that extended partway down the hard thigh. Derrick moaned with pleasure and let his head fall back, eyes half closed. Bert had won himself another reprieve, one that he hoped he could prolong quite a bit. There had to be some way out of this. He just needed time to think. His fingers detected Derrick's cock growing fuller. Bert could easily discern where the shaft ended and the head began. There was a wide corona and then the rounded knob. He found himself concentrating there, making a special effort to please the man who was, at that moment, so in control of him. Several minutes later, the arm that was around Bert's shoulders moved, and Derrick's large hand went to the back of Bert's head. Pressure, persuasive but not forceful, coaxed him forward and then down. Bert's face was directed toward Derrick's crotch. It was happening too fast. All at once, Bert's mouth touched Derrick's bulge. "Go on, girl. Give it a kiss. Let me feel those lips start working. Show me what you've got." Seeing no other choice, he pressed his lips to the thickness and made a loud kissing sound. Derrick eased the pressure on the back of Bert's head somewhat. Instead of attempting to move away, Bert stayed where he was, lavishing more oral attention on his target, alternating kisses with nuzzling. He told himself it was simply to stall while he tried to think. While doing all that, he became acutely aware of the difference between his own inferior endowment and what Derrick had. Marlene liked to remind her husband of his shortcoming, suggesting that for a TV like him, it could be an asset. He squeezed and released Derrick's impressive shaft with a slow rhythm, while still using his mouth on the head. Derrick began to run his fingers through Bert's long hair. The bent-over man was glad that his wife had allowed him to grow his locks long. He would hate to be wearing a wig at the moment. That was when Derrick got his hands on Bert, under his arms, to move him off the sofa and lower him onto his knees... between Derrick's spread legs. While murmuring something soothing, the big man undid his pants and lowered his fly. He pulled the pants and his shorts down until they dropped to his ankles. His powerful hirsute legs were bared. So was the thick patch of hair below his navel. But what really mattered, and what Bert avoided looking at until last, was Derrick's privates. Uncovered, his cock seemed even larger. His balls were in proportion to its considerable length and girth. And Bert was staring right at it, while in drag, with the potentially vindictive -- if he guessed Bert's true gender -- man waiting for what he expected. "Now come on," Derrick said, only a hint of impatience in his words. "Just open up and say 'ah'. It won't hurt you, Berta baby. It's okay that you're saving your cherry, but you don't lose any kind of virginity when you use your mouth." Bert shuddered. When he didn't proceed with what Derrick was waiting for, the seated man again took the back of his head, once more applying just enough pressure to send his message. "Now don't disappoint me, sweetlips." Bert was confused. The wine was making it hard to think clearly. He didn't dare risk being exposed. And the waiting guy was so big, so strong, so expectant. As if hypnotized, Bert opened his mouth wide and managed to engulf that cock knob. He slowly closed his lips and sealed them around the indented space behind the corona. It seemed the natural place to do that. He sucked experimentally and was rewarded with a moan. His tongue slid back and forth against the underside of the head. That earned him a longer moan. Bert realized with a sick sensation that there was no turning back. He sucked harder. Brought up one hand to cup and softly fondle those heavy balls. His other hand gripped the shaft that was too much for him to swallow fully, despite the way his wife had made him use his mouth on that big dildo. He began to work the manageable portion -- the first six of what looked like twelve inches -- in and out of his mouth. That had been his limit on the artificial cock. At least he was preventing Derrick from learning that he had a penis. And...? What was going on in his panties? Was Bert's little half-dick... getting stiff? Why would THAT happen? He kept working on Derrick's superior cock, varying his techniques to keep him happy. Bert wanted to get this over with, but that would mean making Derrick empty his balls. The idea of a mouthful of spunk was repugnant. He didn't want that stuff running down the back of this throat. He didn't want to know that it was lying in his stomach. Bert slowed down, trying to come up with some way to have Derrick shoot elsewhere. He decided to switch to just using his hand and let him spurt all over the front of Bert's dress. Even if he got some on Bert's face it would be better than having the salty cream in his mouth. And gullet. He took his mouth off the big tool and leaned back slightly. To make it appear natural, he looked up at Derrick and gave a seductive smile. Bert stroked, lapped at the head, all the while trying to judge when the eruption was about to take place. Derrick's body tensed. His jaw set. Eyes narrowed. As Bert stroked, he aimed the rod lower, so the spunk would land where he wanted. It was getting closer. Closer. Derrick had self-control that Bert could never have matched. Closer. His voice thick with lust, Derrick said in a no-nonsense tone, "I'm ready, Berta. Get it back in your sexy mouth, babe." Too afraid to disobey, and despite his rising gorge, Bert locked his lips around the shaft, just behind the head, sucked hard and administered a series of rapid hand pumps. The sitting man grunted and let loose. Bert's unaccustomed mouth was filled to capacity. Excess cum leaked out of one corner. He moaned and, as soon as he heard himself, knew that it would be mistaken for passion. Derrick put his fingers in Bert's long hair and held on while his balls drained themselves. Bert wanted to free his mouth, turn his head, and spew everything onto the carpet. But Marlene might figure out what had happened and that was the last thing he wanted. She already questioned his sexual orientation because of his cross-dressing. What would she think if she knew he had sucked a cock? With no other choice, Bert gulped down some of the plentiful semen. It was awful. He had turned a corner that he had never even expected to even approach. The way he saw himself would be forever altered. This was the worst thing he could have imagined happening. But... but... but... unthinkable as the fact was, his little dick was still hard inside his panties. He swallowed more spunk. Derrick was still in a rapture of release so, just to be safe, Bert ran his tongue around and around the corona of his cock. Derrick let go of Bert's hair and took several deep breaths. "Whoa," he said, and then sighed with satiation. "That was amazing. I could tell you were really into it. You love the taste of sex sauce, don't you?" Bert could hardly say he didn't, not after all the spirited oral gratification he had just provided. "Of course," he purred. Was that enough? Derrick was still gazing down at him. "Especially when it comes from you." More? "From that monster of a cock." Derrick chuckled. "There's a little more, if you just milk it out. Come on, lover. And let me watch you catch it on your tongue. Damn. I'm sure glad Shirl brought me along. Wouldn't have missed this for anything." Obviously meaning it as a compliment, he added, "You are one wild cocksucker." As he gave a few additional strokes, keeping his thumb on the seam that ran along the underside of that massive, still half hard tool, Bert said, "Mmm, thank you." A heavy drop of residual cream appeared, grew, and was about to fall. Bert dutifully extended his tongue and, with Derrick watching delightedly, caught it. Bert even licked his lips and smiled, despite the massive shame he was experiencing. The swarthy giant patted him on the head. Several more drops followed. Then he had Bert give his tool what he called 'the spit and polish treatment', to remove as much of any remaining cum as possible. "Now I'm going to finish getting cleaned up," he told Bert. "But don't you do a thing." He grinned slyly. "Just savor all that delicious protein that's still on your tongue." Bert made himself give a flirty smile. "I will. And I'll be thinking about how it got there." As Derrick got up and left the room, Bert admonished himself. Why was he encouraging the guy who had just used him? At least he didn't have to worry about a repeat performance. Once Bert himself ejaculated he wasn't able to perform for a day or two. He took it for granted that every man had that same limitation. When Derrick reappeared, looking contented, his cock neatly tucked away, Bert quivered. At least his own unwanted hard-on had subsided. "What are you doing still on your knees?" the big man said, plainly amused. "Hoping for more of the same?" "Oh, I just thought... you'd like to see me this way." "It does look good. But get up on the sofa, Berta. I want you snuggled up against me." "Okay," he said uncertainly. Bert still had the problem of avoiding detection. Derrick sat at one end of the long piece of furniture and Bert put himself alongside him, pulling up his legs and folding them up in a feminine posture. He leaned against the guy who had just enjoyed his favors, feeling how solid his body was. Derrick's arm went around Bert's shoulders, drawing him nearer, so that Bert's cheek ended up resting on Derrick's chest. Rather than risk spoiling the scenario, Bert let his hand rest on Derrick's thigh. Derrick put his hand on Bert's hip, then moved it slightly so that he was cupping one buttock. Bert started to tense up inside. Even after what had just happened, being touched by a man was uncomfortable. Maybe now it was even more uncomfortable than it would have been before, because he knew what it could lead to. He reminded himself that he had just made that massive cock shoot, and so he had a reprieve from any possible replay. Closing his eyes, Derrick whispered something about how relaxed he was. He rubbed Bert's ass through the thin material of the dress, finding the space between his buns and teasing it. As he pushed the fabric in further, he reached the tight pucker. Derrick withdrew his hand. Bert's was relieved but that was short-lived, as Derrick put his hand back there, except that this time it was beneath the dress. His fingers wormed their way under the panties and settled between the twin ovals. He began to toy with the tightness in the center with one finger. Bert bit his lips. This couldn't be happening. He breathed through his nostrils. That spot was surprisingly receptive to being diddled. As Derrick used more pressure, Bert couldn't contain a gasp. Worse, his undersized penis was rising again. That shouldn't be happening. The man teasing his body wanted to know, "Feel good, lover?" Somehow thinking the controlling man would know if he lied, and unable to deny that his own penis was straining from all the stimulation, Bert admitted in a thin, overwhelmed voice, "Yes. It does. It's... it's..." "Damned good. Some girls definitely get off on it. Like you. Now just take it easy and let me keep going for a few more minutes." His finger probed harder, moved with practiced skill, entered, and had Bert gasping and panting. Derrick's other hand toyed with his sex puppet's ear, tickling and tugging. Bert squirmed uncontrollably against him. The arousal went on for another five minutes, until the recipient thought he would swoon. That was when everything stopped at once, leaving Bert confused and anxious. Derrick eased him aside. He went across the room and came back with a footstool, which he set in front of the sofa. Then he took Bert by the arm and eased him to his feet. "Come on, little girl. Let's go to the kitchen and get something from the fridge." As they left the room, Bert with weak knees, Derrick taking long steps that required an effort to keep up with, the TV was trying to figure out what had just happened. Why was the big man suddenly seeking something to eat? Why the abrupt change of mood? He was even more startled when Derrick reached into the refrigerator and came out with... a jar of mayonnaise? "You okay with this?" he asked Bert. Still in a whirl of uncertainty, Bert took the safest path and nodded. Derrick chortled and said something about what a bad girl Berta was. Back in the living room, Derrick directed Bert to step up onto the stool. Derrick gripped him by the hips and mashed his crotch against Bert's backside. "That's the perfect height," he said as he ground against him. "Now let's get that skirt out of the way." He flipped the long garment up and draped it across Bert's back. "And lower those panties to half mast." He yanked them unceremoniously down, exposing his bottom but leaving his genitals contained in the garment's crotch. He ran his fingers over the tops of Bert's stockings. Bert had a moment of panic, again terrified that his privates would be exposed. But that didn't happen. Instead, he heard the jar being unscrewed and then, the next thing he knew, Derrick's fingers in the furrow of his bottom again -- and they carried a large dollop of mayonnaise. The busy man smeared it over Bert's rosebud and then inserted a slippery finger, and then two, to generously coat his inner passage. The lid was replaced. He told Bert to not dare to move. Moments later Derrick had gone to the kitchen, replaced the jar, and washed his hands. He got back behind Bert and pressed up against him once more but now it was on the bare. And the well hung specimen had his cock out. All at once Bert's befuddlement vanished. He understood what was about to happen. Derrick clamped his capable hands on Bert's hips and used his thumbs to part his buttocks. He kneaded those soft cheeks and then, to Bert's dismay, Derrick's cock was hard again, it's business end bumping against Bert's virginity. No, no, no. The guy standing on the stool wanted to say something. He made a sound of distress. The man behind him said soothingly, "It's all right, little angel. I've done this plenty of times. I know I'm big. Well, very big. But hey, that's what a girl like you wants. Not one of those wimps with a dick the size of my middle finger. What girl would want to settle for that?" He continued talking in that reassuring tone, his flow of words preventing Bert from breaking in. As Derrick spoke, he lined up his cock and pulled back on Bert's hips, at the same time pushing his own pelvis forward. The fat knob of his rod, aided by the slippery lube, stretched him out and entered. Bert let out a squeak of distress. "It's all right. That was the toughest part. It gets easier from here on in. Trust me, Berta. I know what you need." Slightly distracted by the calming words, Bert was surprised when Derrick shoved again, this time burying what must have been another three inches. That portion got backed out but was then fed back in. The action was repeated several times and, on the last inward thrust, another three inches were added to the penetration. Bert moaned. He sniffled. Derrick paused and massaged his partner's neck. There were more tender words. The next move was for Derrick to pull back until only the head was inside, and then lean into his target, inserting himself slowly but steadily, ending up with his entire substantial bone inside. "There you go," he told Bert. "Buried right up to my balls. Now doesn't that feel good?" As Bert tried to speak, his penetrator began a steady in-out rhythm, providing constant stimulation to the sensitive area. Bert bent back his head as far as he could, overcome by the intensity of it all. Derrick held him steady and continued to ream his back alley. Bert could only moan and hiss. He had been deprived of speech. Derrick started to vary his strokes, alternating long with short, adjusting the angle slightly this way and that, stopping unexpectedly and then starting again just as unpredictably. All of it was, as Bert found out, calculated to add to Bert's excitation. He whimpered with the need for more. His little dick stretched out the front of his panties. To his shock, he began pushing back to meet the thrusts. Whenever Derrick slowed down, Bert would give a brief wriggled of his hips, as if to chide him, perhaps to urge him back to full speed. He clenched his deflowered ring. What was happening to the TV? He was straight. He was married. His wife would be home soon. Oh crap. What about Marlene? And Shirl? As if on cue, Bert heard a car pulling up out front. He sobbed. "Derrick, I think my... my cousin is back. I don't want her to walk in on us like this. Please, pull out. Let me go." "Nonsense," the anal invader said, as if nothing stressful might be about to occur. He effortlessly lifted Bert into the air and, still deep inside him, eased himself back to sit on the sofa. Staying supremely calm, he spread Bert's mid-calf length skirt, made sure it was pulled all the way down, and smoothed it out. His cock inside Bert was like a well-fitted piston in a chamber. On his lap, Bert was paralyzed by the fear of a discovery potentially more damaging than Derrick finding out he was a guy. The door opened and in strolled Marlene, followed by Shirl. They came right up to where Derrick sat with Bert on his lap and, as if nothing was amiss, showed off their newly done fingernails. "Aren't they the best?" Marlene wanted to know. "I love that place," Shirl enthused. To Bert it felt like the room was tilting, as if he had been transported into some surreal alternate dimension. He was sitting on Derrick's lap, with the big man's rigid cock impaling him, his own penis undeniably hard and pulsing, while his wife and her friend were directly in front of them, unable to see the sexual joining, expecting a response about their nails. "Well?" Derrick asked Bert. "What do you think, Berta? This is something a girl would know more about than a guy. Do you like them? Would you want to get your nails done there?" On that seat of shame, with his brightly striped blouse and conservative navy skirt, carefully applied cosmetics highlighting his face, his long hair neatly brushed and mildly perfumed by flowery shampoo, Bert appeared to be the right person to answer those questions. His voice was smaller than before as he approved of the manicured and colored nails, and confirmed that he would indeed wish to get his own nails done there. He shifted slightly, out of uneasiness, and felt Derrick's cherry-popping weapon limiting his movement, thrilling him in ways he didn't want to admit to. Bert inhaled and blew out through pursed lips. It was the extreme limit of mortification to be there, with that magnum cock spindling him, while his wife and her good friend looked on, unaware of the reality of his plight. The women retook their seats across the room. They didn't seem in any hurry to go elsewhere. Bert despaired of escaping with his new secret still preserved. His masculinity was endangered and his marital future in doubt. What could he possibly do to salvage this impossible situation? Derrick put one well-developed arm around him and pulled him back, so that they were firmly against each other. The bigger man contracted his buttocks several times, making his engorged cock work itself up and down - - not much but enough to be felt and to add to the unwanted stimulation -- while Bert's desperation grew. Worse, the TV's arousal continued to mount. The last thing he wanted was to become overexcited and give himself away with a display of losing his breath, fluttering his eyes, and opening and closing his mouth like a landed fish. To his relief, Derrick stopped the subtle movements. The ladies' chatter went on as if nothing was unusual. Derrick made a few comments. Bert was too breathless to say anything. Just as he decided he might actually get through it in one piece, Derrick repeated the up-and-down action, unnoticeable to the women but oh-so-effective on Bert. When the penetrated male couldn't sit still and began to wiggle his bottom, Derrick tightened his hug just a bit, as if to signal his appreciation of the reciprocal teasing. No, no, no -- that definitely wasn't Bert's intention. The dusky devil on whose lap he sat tried another trick, tightening first one buttock and then the other. This time the movement had a side-to-side rocking quality to it. Bert thought his overworked little dick might explode right then and there. He was able to relax a short while later, after several sessions of that new mischief, when Derrick finally relented. The darkish defiler said to the women, "That wine we had earlier was really good. Where did you get it?" Marlene told him, "There's a new liquor store right out on the highway, about ten minutes from here. One of the clerks recommended it. They really know their stock." "I'll have to pick some up." "Oh, well I need to head out that way to pick up some gourmet coffee from a specialty shop near there. I'll stop and get more wine, too, and an extra for you. As a gift, for keeping my cousin company." To Shirl she said, "We can go together. Okay?" "Sure," her friend agreed. Then she looked right at Bert. "Do you want to come with us... um... Berta?" Did he? Absolutely. But there was no way to discretely dismount from that butt-busting Billy club. He self-consciously smoothed down his skirt, the motion very ladylike, and shook his head. In his best girlish voice he said, "No thanks." He had to take a breath to continue. "But you two have a good time without me." Marlene chuckled. "And you two have a good time without us." Did she suspect that something had gone on? And that more was happening right now? Or did she just believe that Bert was being mildly embarrassed? The women took their time getting ready to leave. Each of them had to visit the bathroom to touch up their faces. Marlene wanted Derrick's opinion of her eye shadow. He liked it and said it would look good on Berta. So Marlene stood there and applied some to the eyes of her speared spouse. Bert couldn't believe how mortified he was. At last the gabbing girls departed. Derrick laughed at the situation he and Bert had just been in. He pushed the skirt up high enough to rub Bert's bare thigh above his stocking. As his fingers approached the juncture of Bert's legs, the helpless husband protested that he didn't want to be touched there. The swarthy man snickered. "You are so funny, babe. I mean, you sucked me off so good it would make a whore blush. You were loving it. And just now you were riding my cock like you couldn't live without it, right while your cousin and Shirl were in the room." He playfully nibbled the faux female's neck. "You are such a freak for it. But I can't even touch your cherry spot. I'm definitely thinking that you're one of those submissive types. Hmmm? Fifty shade of tie me up and spank me? Am I right or am I right?" Just then Derrick pressed his hands into the cushions of the sofa and raised his hips several inches, easily lifting and lowering himself a dozen times. Bert was overcome by how possessed it made him feel. How... submissive... if only in that moment. He sobbed from too much arousal. His undersized dick was so hard inside his panties. It was leaking. He muttered, "Yes... submissive... freaky..." Derrick switched his hands to Bert's uncovered hips and kneaded their softness. He blew playfully into his ear. He said, his voice holding lots of promise, "We can get to that kinky stuff another time. But right now let's finish what we started. You sound like you can't wait much longer." Still gripping Bert's hips, the awesome man rose as if he was handling no weight at all, and set Bert's feet back on the low stool. Bert bent forward slightly, accommodating the deep penetration. His panties were still over his cock, holding it securely, despite having been down in back for so long, and despite all the moving that had gone on. A second later Derrick was again working himself in and out of the well lubricated passage. His breathing accelerated, along with his pace. Once more Bert, unable to stop himself, shoved back to meet his thrusts. Everything was rushing toward an inevitable conclusion. And then it happened. Derrick made a sound deep in his throat. He held on tighter and switched to a series of short jabbing motions. It was what Bert had dreaded. The man with the caf? au lait complexion was blasting his seed into his reluctant partner's body. Bert would now have two helpings of spunk inside him. Even as that occurred, however, Bert went over the edge himself. His dick seemed to spasm and suddenly was spewing the contents of his undersized balls into his panties. It was like he couldn't stop coming. He reached back and put his hands over Derrick's much larger ones, as if he never wanted him to let go, as if he wished this moment could go on and on and on. As he began to recover from that brief madness, all Bert wanted was for Derrick to withdraw, so Bert could race to the bathroom and clean himself up front and back, and give his mouth and throat a thorough rinse and gargle. But Derrick felt no similar urgency. He stood there, still savoring the afterglow, when Bert was long past wanting it to go on. Bert had taken back his hands and was hugging himself, wanting only to flee and remove every trace he could of what had happened, even though he knew he couldn't get rid of the fluid that had been pumped deep inside of him. Twice. Finally, Derrick released his stunned sex partner. He gave Bert's bottom an affectionate squeeze and told him to go freshen up. Bert got off the stood unsteadily. He glanced over and saw the tall man's cock, flaccid now but still much more impressive than Bert's ever was when it was hard. The TV, his recently violated back entrance sore, clenching himself there to prevent shameful leakage, took mincing steps toward the bathroom, certain that Derrick's eyes were on him and probably full of amusement and gratification. Bert managed to clean most of his own cream out of the front of his panties. He got the space between his nether cheeks mopped up as well and hoped that whatever else had entered him would stay where it was instead of leaking out, unhappy though retaining it made him. As he was finishing up, his penis safely hidden away by the damp front of his panties, Derrick entered the room. Bert stepped aside and Derrick laid his long, softened member over the edge of the sink. "Hey, sweet-cheeks. That was a fantastic rump-bumping. Now how about if you clean me up down there? Just a little soap and water. Be careful not to get my pants wet. Wouldn't want the girls to figure out how nasty you got with that hungry ass of yours. Your cousin and Shirl might get jealous." Bert carefully began the undesired job. He got Derrick's double-helping of a cock washed and used the hand towel to gingerly pat it dry. Then Derrick put his big hand once more on the back of Bert's neck. "Go on," Derrick said, as if granting a favor. "Now that my Johnson's all spick and span, I know you want to give it a goodbye kiss, you cute little pervert. Go ahead. In fact, you can get your lips on it as much as you want." He didn't want that at all, but Bert still bent down to lavish kisses up and down the admirable length of Derrick's spent tool, finishing with about a dozen on the thick head. He even, with one more thought about disguising his true feelings, so as to keep his actual gender unrevealed, took the bulbous end into his mouth and, while awkwardly bent over, gave it several farewell sucks. It certainly couldn't be mistaken for the behavior of a straight man, even one who was a TV. Derrick sighed and pulled up Bert's skirt to give his rear end one more extended fondling. Then, Bert was relieved to tell himself, it was at last all over. He would make sure that the big man never got a chance to explore those 'tie me up and spank me' ideas. When the women returned home, carrying the wine and coffee and a few impulse purchases, they found Derrick sitting on the sofa, with Bert busy serving him a neatly arranged plate of cheese and crackers. The hungry man made a joke about how being around such a pretty girl as Berta stimulated his appetite. The others joined in and Marlene opened a bottle of wine that she had bought chilled. When everyone's glass was refilled, Marlene proposed a toast. "Trying something new is always a good idea." Bert tensed up at her words but relaxed when she went on, "Like trying this delicious wine that I bought for the first time yesterday. So here's to trying new things." Bert was back alongside Derrick by then and the macho man hooked his arm through that of the TV, so that they could both drink at the same time without disengaging, as they had done earlier. Shortly after that he belatedly remembered why he had come in the first place, and went to check the home repair job that Marlene needed looked at. When he came back he said fixing the basement door would be a minor and inexpensive task, and that he would call her to schedule the work. "And," he mentioned with a grin, "you'll get the friends and family discount." Before long Shirl declared that she had to get going. Derrick got up. He reached out to Bert, who automatically extended his hand. The bigger man took it between his and compressed it warmly, simultaneously tickling Bert's palm with his thick forefinger. The man in a skirt and blouse felt his face grow warm and knew he was blushing. Marlene said she would walk them out to the car and asked Bert to straighten up the room. Glad that he didn't have to be seen outdoors the way he was, and that he didn't have to go down the two front steps with his tail end in its current condition, he got busy taking the glasses and the remains of the cheese platter to the kitchen. Marlene came back inside shortly and joined him there. As he started washing the glasses she spoke. "I was glad to see you having such a good time with Derrick." When he tried to correct her she held up a dissuading hand. "It's all right. I get it. You were thrilled to be so totally convincing. I know that's important to you when you're all dressed up. And it makes sense that fooling a guy would mean more than, say, passing in front of someone like Shirl." She gave him a smile. "So I just did you a big favor while I was saying goodbye." "You... did...?" "For sure. I told Derrick that my cousin Berta is kind of shy but that I knew she'd love to see him again." "B... but what if he... wants to... if he thinks I'm a girl...?" "Just do what I told you before. What you did today. Tell him you're saving yourself. I mean, any guy would understand that. It'd be different if you said it and were sending signals that you didn't really mean it. I know some girls are like that. But that can't happen with you, not even unconsciously, because like you always say..." She paused and made an air kiss in his direction. "... you're straight." Marlene said those last two words as if they were sharing a private joke. "So... um... what did you do? Tell him to call me? Or...?" "No, silly. Why bother with that? I mean, I couldn't miss how much you were getting off from being on his lap. That certainly proved that you had him thinking you were the real thing, pussy-wise." She chuckled. "And since you're not going any further, I don't see where there's any harm to him. He'll never know. As long as you remember, like we talked about earlier, that it might no go well for you if he found out the truth, a big muscleman like him." "Yes, but... what did you...?" "Oh, I arranged for him to pick you up on Friday night at eight. Now don't worry. I realize that you don't want to be seen in public, en femme. So I told him to just take you to his place. I'm sure the two of you will have a nice evening just talking. Oh, and I gave him his bottle of wine but I didn't charge him. I told him it was a gift because he would be sharing it with my cousin. So everybody wins. You get to dress up and pass for the real thing. Derrick gets to think that he's charmed some cute girl, even thought she's saving herself. And I feel terrific because I'm helping your to realize your cross-dressing dreams. Everybody wins." "Yes," Bert echoed weakly, "everybody wins." His lips seemed to be numb. "Especially Derrick." He thought about the whole bondage and butt-smacking evening that his physically superior 'date' imagined Berta craved. And how he -- Bert -- was going to keep hiding his manhood if it came to that. Or rather, he conceded to himself, WHEN it came to that. On Friday night. There was one special pair of panties that he had ordered on-line, that even Marlene hadn't seen. They had just a thong in the rear and would leave his buttocks completely accessible, to spank or... with the narrow bit of 'butt floss' so easy to pull aside... for more of what had happened this time. Bert felt dizzy and had to hold onto the kitchen counter. His wife, perhaps believing he was overcome with gratitude, put a comforting arm around his shoulders. "I'm really pleased that I can do this for you, honey. I know I let myself get upset when I first found out about your secret. But now I've come to accept your Berta side and I'll do anything I can to help you get to know her better -- especially with Derrick. And hey, you'll have lots of opportunities to explore all that. He mentioned how you told him that Berta is here until the end of the Summer. You two are going to have so much fun together." ********* (Would especially like to hear readers' thoughts on this one. I had fun writing it and hope you had fun reading it.) (And thanks to those who took the time recently to review some of my older stories. Always happy to see additional feedback.)