Date: Wed, 17 May 2006 16:15:52 +0000
From: Frank Staples <frankstaples@hotmail.com>
Subject: Chapter 2 to The clothes we wear

Chapter 2: The builders

Since that first time, a year ago, Frank had used every opportunity he had
to dress in his mother's clothes. They were too big for him in some ways,
for example his mother had bigger hips; and did not really go with his age;
but he could hardly ask his girl friends to lend him something more
fashionable. In any case, the clothes turned him on and allowed him to live
out the latest fantasy.

It wasn't all that often that he got a clear period with the house to
himself but that just increased the anticipation. Now that he had taken the
first step and enjoyed it so much, he used the "down-time" to think about
what he would do the next time. His mother worked in the locality and had
appointments rather than fixed hours, so she could reappear at any
second. Indeed, she had done so on several occasions and he had only just
managed to escape to the bathroom in time to take everything off and hide
it in the washing basket.  What she thought of her teenage son walking
around in just a towel in the middle of the afternoon, she never said, but
he had been given some strange looks.

What he really liked was the feel of the stockings, suspender belts, skirts
and dresses against his skin, but these items couldn't be worn with others
in the house.  On the other hand, he could pinch her girdle from the wash
basket and sleep in it overnight. He had found that he could make himself
come, just by making thrusting movements with his hips, while his prick was
held stiff against his belly. By leaving it on while he slept, he found
that it would wake him in the night with another hard-on to satisfy, the
friction being constant. But this was about as far as it went, if someone
was at home.

While he waited, he started to take much more notice of what his mother
wore and how she wore it. He soon found out how to watch her in order to
see what she wore under her outer clothes. The view down the front of her
blouses and shirts showed him her bras, if indeed she wore them. At the
weekends she usually went loose and occasionally he had seen his father
stand behind her and slip his hands onto her breasts, when they thought no
one was looking; she always leant back and relaxed into his embrace.  To
find out if she had pants or a string, he quickly found out that all he had
to do was watch her hips. As soon as she bent forward, he could see the
outline through the material of her trousers or skirt. He discovered that
she usually wore a string with the trousers and this meant that the
trousers themselves fitted the curve of her buttocks very exactly, often
with the central seam pulled up tight between them.  It was not so easy to
work out if she had tights or stockings on, because that required a direct
view of her thighs. It was tricky to sit opposite his mother and focus his
gaze on her legs, hoping that she would give him what he wanted. Her skirts
were mostly quite short but still they were tantalisingly too
long. Crossing her legs only gave him the most shadowy of
impressions. Sometimes she sat down on a low seat and then there was a good
chance of seeing her legs but it was not often. Besides she had caught him
staring a couple of times and he had to be much more careful afterwards. In
fact, he realised, wearing a skirt and not revealing your thighs was quite
a trick.  As the summer holidays went on, and the temperature went up, even
for England, he found himself dreaming of wearing a light summer dress with
a full skirt, as well as the stockings again. He had taken the belt and a
pair of stockings to wear in his bedroom, but he had later overheard his
mother asking his father if he had seen them, so, at the first opportunity,
he had put them back. It was getting frustrating.

It wasn't as if he didn't relieve his needs with long and very satisfying
wanking sessions; he did. Maybe it was the "you can see it but don't touch"
aspect of his situation; he knew where everything was but he couldn't get
at it. Then again, he hadn't been fucked for several weeks, since coming
home for the holidays, and at the very least he was wanting to use the
vibrator. Still nothing. His father was away most of the week on business,
so he wasn't the problem; it was his mother, who, to his increasingly
frustrated mind, was beginning to remind him of a puritan yoyo, always in
and out, stopping any sex!

Then, one day, she suddenly announced that the next day she would have to
go to the other side of London, leaving very early and getting back
late. He couldn't decently cheer, but his helpfulness around the house rose
to new levels, so that nothing should hinder her departure. The inevitable
list of things to remember was cheerfully written down, assurances given
about locking up etc. etc. and he made a careful note of what to cook the
following evening for when she got back.

The evening passed and then he went to bed. He stayed awake a long time,
dreaming what he would do the next day. At the same time he worked on his
prick so that he built up to a tremendous climax, which covered his chest
and belly with cum.

Early the next morning he heard his mother getting up, having her shower
and leaving for the day. He stretched luxuriously and got up.

He went to the bathroom and had his shower. Then he took his razor and
shaved his legs carefully, so that he would enjoy the stockings
properly. Naked, he walked through to his parents bedroom. His image moved
about in the full length mirrors and he could see his semi-erect cock
swaying with each step. He started opening drawers: it was the first chance
he had had to see what new things she had bought. The strings were now
almost as numerous as the pants, and even the pants were all lacy and
brief. The bras matched, and he realised that there had been something of a
revolution going on since he had first taken an interest. At the back of
the usual drawer was the vibrator, and it's batteries seemed to be new when
he tried it.

Looking in the wardrobe, he found the dress he had in mind; cotton, pale
green with a darker green floral pattern in it and a full skirt. It would
come down to his knees, though it fell well below his mother's. He had worn
it before and enjoyed the airy feel as it slipped over his skin, but the
bloody zip at the back always made him swear, he just was not double
jointed. Still, one had to suffer to look beautiful, they said, so he would
do battle once again to get into the dress.

He started with the suspender belt and settling the stockings on his legs.
The weight training in the winter had given him much more clearly defined
leg muscles and he felt the stockings grip him as he pulled them up and
attached them, with none of the loose wrinkles of the year before. He stood
in front of the mirror and admired the curve of his outer thigh which was
carried on by the line of the suspender up to his waist. The dark top of
the stockings made a band across his thighs just below the line of his
balls; it was as if the decoration had stopped just in time to give way to
practical action, he was definitely "available". He turned and looking over
his shoulder, he could see the tension in his legs and buttocks, the
slimness of his ankles and his well developed calves. He could feel the
pull of the stockings against the belt and how the straps strained against
his hips and thighs.  But what really caught his eye, as always, was the
framing that the belt, straps and stocking tops gave to his buttocks. It
turned him on, so what it would do to, say, Ray, if he were ever to see
Frank like that, he could only imagine; and his own cock thickened steadily
at the thought.

And that was a problem. Every time he got dressed up, he got excited, but
then he had to let everything calm down again so that his prick was small
and soft enough to tuck into the tight pair of pants he used to obtain a
flat front. One of his favourite deflationary strategies was to imagine his
parents catching him dressed as he was; the only thing was that more and
more this was having the opposite effect. This time he thought about some
of his "straight" friends finding out and the ridicule which would follow,
and it worked. He quickly pulled on the black lace pants and tightened them
further by sliding the back of the pants between his buttocks. He had tried
the strings but they didn't hold everything in place, so this was his
alternative. He rolled up the sides to make them as thin as possible and
pulled them up on his hips. He did his usual deep squat to get everything
settled, and as he stood up he felt the material band between his buttocks
tighten and rub on his anus. Now it didn't matter if he got excited, he was
strapped up and any stiffening of his prick was immediately felt on his
entrance.

The bra and it's padding, which he had gradually improved with time until
it not only filled the cup but had a realistic weight in it, was clipped in
place and adjusted, and then he started with the dress. He stepped into it
and slid it up over his hips; so far so good. Then he slipped his arms
through the sleeves and got the shoulders in place. He reached behind him
and slid the zip up as far as he could go. This was the start of the
problems. His mother just put her hand over her shoulder and finished
pulling up the zip. Frank's problem was that, although he could reach the
zip, his chest was now too big for the zip to slide up easily. He knew that
once it was up, he was OK if he didn't breathe too deeply; for the material
was tightly stretched all round him. To get it there he had to relax, not
breathe too much and stretch down his back to grip the zip and bring it
up. If it didn't work in the first few attempts, he also had to contend
with slippery fingers.

After taking several deep breaths to relax himself, he let out his last
breath and reached for the zip. One small breath and then he pulled up as
he expelled it. Almost against hope, he felt the zip come up smoothly. It
was done; he was in the dress. Breathing out, he adjusted the fit and then
relaxed carefully, it was tight but not impossibly so.

Frank walked to and fro in front of the mirror and enjoyed the sensation of
the material on his buttocks. The skirt brushed against his legs, pressing
against and between his thighs, giving him a cool caress. He sat down on
the bed and watched the fall of the skirt and way in which it slid off his
legs, revealing them to any observer. He got up and went downstairs to have
breakfast.

The paper had arrived and so he sat at the kitchen table, half reading the
sports and half enjoying the sensations of tensing his crossed thighs so
that his prick was put under pressure. His mind was also starting to work
on what he would do next; when he went upstairs to find the vibrator.

Suddenly there was a rap at the window. Frank jumped, and his heart nearly
stopped. There, at the window, was a man with a ruddy face and a large,
rough hand. "Sorry!  Your bell doesn't work," he said loudly through the
window, "we've come to do the roof."

Frank couldn't believe it. His parents had talked about the roof for weeks
but he had not heard that anything had been fixed; why hadn't his mother
said anything?  Never mind that; as he recovered he realised that very soon
the man would realise that he was not a girl. Oh fuck! He got up very
reluctantly and went to the back door. The man turned out to be in his
thirties and he held out his hand, "Hi, sorry to startle you but your Dad
did say to come round today. I'm Joe Green" "Oh."  "Didn't he tell you?
Well we won't be inside much, the leak's probably from some loose tiles,
the lads are setting up the ladders now." Lads! Ladders! This was getting
worse by the second.  "Er, well OK," he said as lightly as he could, " do
you need anything?"  Joe looked at Frank intently for a moment and then
said, "Well, not yet, we'll have a look first and then maybe we will need
to get into the attic. I'll knock at the front when I need to get in. OK?"
"Um, yes, OK."  Joe went off round the corner of the house, leaving Frank
with a stomach that was getting colder and more cramped by the minute. It
was just that he had recognised Joe as one of the players in the veterans
team at his football club. He felt as if the world was going too fast, this
could only end in disaster.

Walking through to the front room, Frank looked through the curtains. There
were three other young men, probably in their early twenties, unloading
ladders and generally getting organised to go up onto the roof. Joe
appeared and said to someone out of sight, "Well, I've seen the
daughter.....", which was followed by suggestive noises and laughter from
the others, "and she says we should go up and see what has to be done. So
you get organised for that and I'll go see what is in the attic." Having
said that, he disappeared from Frank's view and, almost immediately, the
front door bell rang. Frank went to the door and let Joe in.  "Can you show
me what's wrong in the attic?" he asked.  "Yes, follow me," said Frank,
setting off up the stairs. This Joe did not seem to notice anything, so
maybe it would be alright.

They reached the upper landing and Frank got out the hook to pull down the
trapdoor. The house was old and the ceilings were very high, so the
trapdoor was quite difficult to catch with the hook. He handed the pole to
Joe and told him what to do. Obviously Joe had done this before, because he
caught the trap easily and pulled the ladder down.  "I'll go up first,
where's the light?"  "On the right. On the beam."  With that, Joe climbed
the ladder, switched on the light and disappeared from view, heading for
the corner with the leak. Frank started to climb, but found that the skirt
of his dress kept getting in the way of his feet. Then he found that, by
standing up straighter than usual he could climb up, provided he kept both
knees on the same side. When he got to the top, he could see Joe examining
the underside of the roof with his torch. He went over, until he was
crouching under the roof with Joe. As he did so he was acutely aware of the
tension in his stockings, as they were pulled tight over his knees, and the
corresponding way in which the belt dug into his hips.  "Right," said Joe,
once Frank was next to him, "you see? We'll have to strip off everything
back to here and then re-do all of this, before we put the tiles back."
Then, raising his voice to a shout, he yelled, "Take the tiles off." And
soon there was a gap for him to talk to the others, who were all on the
roof. Then he explained what he wanted done and said he would be up there
after he had confirmed it all with Frank's father on the phone.

He crept back to the higher part of the attic and stood up. As Frank joined
him, he said, "Do you think you can explain all this to your Dad later? I
don't think he needs me to tell him, and he told me to get it done."  "No,
I suppose that's OK, I can show him what you showed me," said Frank.

Joe stepped over to the ladder and went down quickly. Frank was about to
follow when he realised that if Joe stood at the bottom, as indeed he was,
he would have a clear view up his skirt. There was nothing he could do, it
would be impossible to ask Joe not to look, especially as he had watched
his mother come down the ladder just like that, and had enjoyed the view
himself.

So Frank turned round and started to climb down the ladder. As he looked
down to check his feet, he saw that Joe was indeed looking up. Frank was
very aware that as he bent forward to hold onto the top of the ladder,
which was attached to the floor of the attic, his bottom stuck out and Joe
could see everything, including the pants pulled up between his
buttocks. Frank went down the ladder as quickly as he could, but all the
time he could feel his face burning with embarrassment and his stomach was
getting more and more fluid as he thought about being discovered. When he
reached the bottom, his face was crimson with embarrassment.  "You Dad said
that his son would be here to let us in," said Joe, with a grin. "Now, all
I've seen is a girl. Or, at least," and then he slipped his arm around
Frank's waist, "someone dressed like a girl. I think that you've got great
legs."  Frank swallowed. "Er, yes, well thank you. He must have meant my
brother," he improvised hopefully. All he saw in reply was a widening grin.
"Well, come to think of it," said Joe with an even bigger smile, "you
remind me of a fellah I know down at the football, would that be him? Name
of Frank. Good player for his age."  Frank had a horrible feeling that he
had been discovered and that everything would come out, "Yes, he is rather
good isn't he. Do you play as well?"  "Yes I do, Frank, and I think that
like that, you look as good as in the showers."

Frank thought he would die. He had been found out and it would be all over
the club by next training. He looked at the floor and wished that his
mother had told him they were coming, life was so unfair! What the hell was
he going to do? What if his parents heard about it? As he stood there,
wondering about all this, he felt Joe's arm pulling him closer.  "Why don't
you take me to a bedroom?" asked Joe. "I'm sure we could find something to
do, couldn't we?"  Frank couldn't believe his ears, "what for?" he asked, a
little stupidly.  "Well, you don't dress up like this for fun do you? I
mean, it does turn you on doesn't it?"  Frank nodded. "In that case, let's
see what we can do, I like girls but I quite fancy boys too."

Suddenly Frank could see that maybe there was a way to keep things secret,
"you won't tell anyone, will you?" he asked nervously.  "Not if you don't,"
smiled Joe, "the better it is the quieter I will be."  Frank turned and
walked towards his parents' room, because it was the farthest from the
front of the house. He pushed open the door and they went in. Frank's cock
was as hard as the pants would let it and he knew that he was wet, because
he could feel the tip slipping around inside its covering skin.  "Sit on
the bed," said Joe, and Frank did so. Out of the corner of his eye he
caught a glimpse of himself in the mirrors of the wardrobe. In front of him
Joe was taking off his jeans and pants. He turned towards Frank and his
cock stood out hard in front of him. He had been cut. The head was a
beautiful deep purple and the shaft was thick and straight. As he moved
towards Frank, it swayed to and fro, with a drop of pre-cum beginning to
drip from the end.

Frank leant forward and took him into his mouth; he tasted salty and hot.
Joe thrust himself further into Frank's mouth, until he hit the back of his
throat, when Frank bit him gently to stop him going any deeper. Frank kept
his mouth loose and started to run his tongue around under Joe's shaft. Joe
grunted and started to thrust backwards and forward; sometimes Frank had
his mouth full and felt as if Joe was about to slide right down his throat;
and at others, he could feel the twin bumps under the tip right on his
tongue. Joe's pre-cum was really flowing, and Frank could feel the taste
permeating his throat and even reaching up into the back of his nose.

Frank pulled right back and took Joe out of his mouth. the shaft was very
hard and it glistened with the attention it had received. Frank pushed it
up against Joe's belly and then ran his tongue all the way down to the
balls underneath. By kinking his neck, he was able to lick them and then,
with the help of his fingers, suck one into his mouth. he rolled it from
side to side and pressed it against the roof of his mouth with his
tongue. Joe, moaned and then, as he came under pressure, grunted
sharply. Frank pulled away from Joe's body and heard Joe gasp, "Careful,
not too far." So he relaxed the tension and then switched to the other
one. As he worked on it, he was aware of Joe bending over him, panting. He
let Joe's balls go, slipped quickly back to the top of his prick and once
more took it into his mouth, this time holding the shaft and working on the
head.

Round and round with his tongue, then hard sucking. Flicking under the
head, and then soft pumping with his lips round the tip. All the time Joe
was moaning, his hand on the back of Frank's head. Suddenly, Frank let go
of the shaft and forced his mouth as far as it would go down onto Joe. He
felt the cock surge in his mouth; Joe grabbed his head to keep him still
and he could feel the twitching in Joe's shaft, all the way from the head
which was lodged at the top of his throat, to the thick bar which he was
gripping with his lips. He was sure if he swallowed, Joe would come.

As he waited for Joe to regain control, Frank knew what Joe would want to
do next. After another minute of suspended animation, Joe withdrew. Frank
looked up and saw that Joe's eyes were bright. Looking down again he could
see that Joe was now really stiff and pointing towards the ceiling at a
sharp angle. "Take your pants off, I want to fuck you," said Joe huskily.

Frank's stomach turned over and he stood up. He went to the bedside table
and took out the KY his mother kept there. Tossing it onto the bed, he
walked back to Joe and then reached up under his dress and pulled down his
pants. The sudden coolness and the freedom for his prick to straighten out
gave Frank a thrill. More than that, the usual excitement of taking off
that last layer in front of the person who was going to thrust up into his
anus, was heightened by the the fact that they were going to use his
parent's bed.  "Kneel on the end."  Frank turned round, hitched up the
front of the dress and knelt on the foot of the bed, with his feet hanging
over the edge. Joe's hand pushed him forward, until he was resting on his
elbows. As he looked sideways, he could see himself in the mirrors. Joe
lifted his dress and pushed it up over his back. Frank's thighs rose from
the bedclothes like smooth columns of tanned muscle, covered in clinging
nylon, with the darker band focussing the eye on the top of the
thighs. Frank started to stiffen, his legs looked good and with his
buttocks fully uncovered and pushed back so that he was available, he felt
very hot.

As he watched, Joe stepped up to him and reached out with a finger coated
with jelly.  Frank felt him find the opening and after the slightest pause,
one thick finger pushed its way in, making him jump. Before he had time to
react, a second finger forced its way inside and then started to spread
him. They were hard inside him, but Frank was too excited to want it to
stop. Steadily, they massaged him until he was loose and slippery; at the
end, he was being finger-fucked and enjoying the roughness of it. Then Joe
pulled them out.

Frank looked at he mirror and saw Joe's rock hard prick advancing on
him. He put his head down onto his forearms and waited. Then, suddenly,
there is was; that hot tip of the shaft, which caressed him as it settled
into the circle of his anus. The power of the prick behind it could be felt
as a promise of stretching and hard penetration, but in that first moment
everything was soft and gentle. Frank took a deep breath and felt himself
open further to the probing tip. Hands then gripped his hips, he felt the
hardness of the shaft press up against his ring. "Slowly," he whispered,
and felt the start of that inexorable drive which would push the iron hard
prick through his anus, stretching him to the point of agony, and up into
his gut, filling him, possessing him and stopping only when his lover's
hips were locked against his buttocks.

Joe was careful, Frank could feel that he was holding himself back; but
even so, the speed of his thrust and the swiftness with which Frank's anus
was forced open, made him gasp.  He hadn't been penetrated for several
weeks; he hadn't had the vibrator, it was only his knowledge that he could
take such a large cock that stopped him panicking.  Oh, but it took his
breath away. His anus hurt, but not enough to scream, he was filled up with
one long hard thrust, which felt as if it would split him in two. And yet;
and yet, all he wanted to do was thrust back to meet this heavenly
invasion. He wanted to be fucked, he wanted to be taken, he wanted to be
used, he wanted to be treated like a slut. "Oh yes, fuck me!" was all he
managed to say; and somehow Joe understood.

He started to thrust steadily and deeply, full-length penetrations, ending
with the thump of his pelvis hitting Frank's, where the buttocks were
pressed back. As he thrust back to drive the cock into his body, Frank felt
the stockings and the straps of the suspender belt cut into his buttocks
and thighs. It made him think of how he looked, framed by the black lines;
now someone was making use of that practical exposure. his face was back in
the bedclothes, his whole being was focussed on the ring and the sensation
of that hard shaft sliding through it, and the wonderful feeling of being
stretched, full and possessed at the end of each thrust.

With each thrust Joe became more urgent. The rhythm picked up. The hands
gripped Frank harder, hurting his hips. As the lubrication started to wear
off, Frank could feel his anus being pulled in and out, and the sliding
feeling was replaced by an altogether rougher sensation. The speed
increased. Frank wanted to ask him to stop and put more lubricant on, but
he could sense that Joe was close to cumming. Now he was being banged hard,
it was making his entrance sore and hitting sensitive spots inside, but he
was becoming very excited by the roughness of it, and the feeling that Joe
had stopped caring how he felt, he was only interested in his own
satisfaction.

Suddenly, Joe started to grunt and shout, "Oh, yes. Fuck. Fuck. Spread
yourself for me."  And with that his hands pulled Frank's buttocks so far
apart that the joint begun to sting, and he thrust without any
hesitation. As Frank felt his lover's cock plunging as far into him as it
could and the increasing fierceness of the thrusts, he knew his own climax
was coming. After all those weeks of no sex at all, suddenly, his dream of
being fucked while dressed up, by a man who would treat him like a slut,
was being realised. In his mind's eye he could see Joe's prick disappearing
between his buttocks, burying itself in his hole. As it was withdrawn, his
anus was pulled with it, as it was thrust in, his anus was forced back into
him. Inside, he felt the great emptiness as the prick was withdrawn, and
then the gorgeous submission as it rushed back into him, refilling its
space inside him. It was almost indecent to need that feeling of being
possessed, but that was what he wanted above all else; another man was
inside him, and he would have an orgasm because Frank had opened his body
to him.

Joe was gasping now, he was very close. Then he was there, his thrusts were
deliberate and deep, Frank could feel his spasms, deep in his belly and in
the shaft which his opening gripped so tightly. the angle changed and Joe
hit Frank's spot and so he too came, shooting great jets up into the dress
bunched up under his hips. Joe moaned as the contractions of his partner's
anus squeezed him, giving him yet more spasms.

Slowly they came down from their high. Joe pulled out gently, stroking
Frank's buttocks as he did so. Frank felt empty and the air on his skin
seemed to make him shiver, or was it just the after-glow. He knelt up and
then stood up on slightly shaky legs.  As he did so he could feel a warm
sticky flow running down his leg.

Joe looked at him while he dressed and smiled "That was very good," he said
quietly, "you really like it don't you? Don't worry, your secret is safe
with me." Frank smiled and nodded. "OK.," continued Joe, "you had better
clean up, or your dress will be a real state. I must go and make sure those
lazy sods are doing their job. I'll come back when we are done and we can
do all the paperwork then."

With that he left and soon Frank heard him yelling at the men on the roof.

Frank went slowly into the bathroom and started to clean up. Suddenly he
realised that he didn't want to change out of the dress, it really did not
matter any more.

Comments? frankstaples@hotmail.com