Date: Sat, 18 Oct 2008 22:35:11 +1000
From: space boy <spaceboy_4192@hotmail.com>
Subject: Amy's New Life - Part 1

This story is a work of fiction intended for adults only. It tells the tale
of a young man who discovers a new life as a transvestite when he moves out
of home. This opening chapter contains cross-dressing scenes but no sex
just yet. Future installments will include depictions of sex between men of
various adult ages. I hope you like it.


=====
Amy's New Life: Part 1
by Spaceboy


Moving into my first apartment had been an exhausting experience. Late on
Sunday night, after two full days of unpacking boxes and rearranging
furniture, I knew there was only one way I could feel fully relaxed.

With steam pouring from the hot bath and filling the room, I slipped out of
the day's clothes. Jeans, polo shirt, boxers were discarded; my naked body
was soon covered in the sweet luxuriousness of lavender and tea tree oil.

I lay back against the tub and closed my eyes. I'd finally done it. Just a
few weeks shy of my 21st birthday, I finally had a place of my own. It
wasn't that living with my parents had been particularly miserable - they
were both generous and loving - but it felt so good to now have my own
space. A new chapter in my life had begun.

Snapping out of my reverie, I took the opportunity to shave the few areas
of my body that weren't already smooth. I was kinda lucky, I guess, in that
I never could grow much hair on my arms, legs, chest and wherever else a
guy usually sports some fur. Even the concept of facial hair was foreign to
me.

Out of the bath and wrapped in a clean towel, I paused in front of the
mirror. I like to think I'm cute, my slender frame and fine features lend
me something of an angelic boyishness. I've a nice smile, although kinda
shy at the same time, short and messy dark hair, grey eyes and pale
skin. Oh, and my name's Andy...

But on nights like tonight, I'd prefer it if you called me Amy.

Tiptoeing from the bathroom to my adjacent bedroom, I headed straight for
my chest of drawers, the third drawer from the top, to be precise. Inside
lay my favourite clothes: rows of pink satin, white lace, red silk and
black sheer. A wicked grin lit up my face as I considered the
possibilities.

Eventually I decided on a fairly simple combination, removing a baby doll
nightie (sheer black with pink lace trimmings and a pretty pink ribbon
tying it together on the chest) and matching French knickers (black lace
with pink hems). As I sat on the bed I slowly drew the lace knickers up my
smooth slim legs and then stood up to ease my rounded butt inside the tight
material. They felt amazing.

My semi-erect cock stretched the lace front, so I adjusted myself, easing
my 5-inches to rest across the top of my right thigh. I preferred to not
tuck it away between my legs. Instead I loved to see the outline of my hard
cock straining against my panties. Already I could see a slight damp patch
near the head...

Next I slipped inside the baby doll nightie before fastening the ribbon at
the front. It exposed my taut tummy at the front and barely covered half my
butt at the back. I touched my nipples through the sheer material and
sighed with pleasure.

Last but least were the shoes. I knelt down beside my bed and peered
underneath, making sure my ass was poking as high into the air as
possible. There they were: I snatched my two-inch black heels, stood up
again and eased my feet under the tight leather straps.

I turned to face the mirror, posing with one hand on hip and pouting as
seductively as I could. My hair was still messy, the fringe would soon be
creeping down over my eyes, but I liked it that way and - truthfully - felt
too lazy to drag out a wig. If I thought I looked cute in the towel in the
bathroom before, then I thought I looked hot now.

I had moved to the inner west of Sydney and had been lucky enough to find
myself a rooftop apartment (one bedroom). The balcony was huge, wrapping
around the western and northern sides of the building. At either end, there
was a diagonal wall from balcony railing to roof that divided my apartment
from the common rooftop area to the east and my neighbour to the south.

Fixing myself a drink (vodka, ice and lime) on the way, I stepped out onto
my balcony to admire the city skyline at night. To the north I could see
the city lights, a thick constellation of whites, blues, yellows and
reds. It looked beauitful. Lighting a cigarette, I walked over to the
western railing and - looking away from the city - was able to make out the
stars above. I felt liberated.

Just then a noise startled me. It had come from behind me to the left. A
door sliding open. Then footsteps. My neighbour had stepped out onto the
balcony. I tensed up.

I'd seen my neighbour a couple of times already this weekend. Once when he
arrived home while I was holding my front door open for the removalist
men. Then once again when we shared the lift ride down all five floors as
we'd both decided to grab our Sunday morning coffees at the same time. He
seemed nice enough from the few seconds of small talk we'd exchanged. Tall,
broad-shouldered and probably twice my age.

What if he sees me? I thought. If he walks to the railing and looks over
he'll see me, for sure (thanks to the peculiarly sloped divide between the
two properties). Dressing in lingerie was my secret, no one else knew. It
was something I did - and had done for about four years now - because it
turned me on. It turned me on like nothing else could do, certainly more
than the sex with my old girlfriends had ever done.

I considered myself straight. I mean, I'd only had sex with girls, a mere
four in total. But I loved dressing in lingerie. And I loved watching
straight porn while doing so. And every time I would imagine I was the
girl. It wasn't that I necessarily found men attractive; it was a
fantasy. Which is why I had to keep it secret. I guess I was scared about
what would happen if anyone found out

I held my breath, standing there against the balcony railing. Maybe it was
the feeling of being somewhere new. Maybe it was the liberation I felt of
being untethered from my childhood. Maybe it was the vodka. But I didn't
move.

Out of the corner of my eye I caught movement and the footsteps were
silenced. He must be standing at the edge of his balcony now, maybe ten
metres from me. I remained focused on the stars in the western sky, in my
left hand a glass, in my right a cigarette. The cool night air breezed
through my nightie and tickled my skin. I could feel my nipples
harden. Another drag on my cigarette as I tried to remain calm. My cock -
previously flaccid - was now stirring under tight lace.

"Hi..." came a deep voice to my left. Somewhat uncertainly, he added, "Is
that... Andy?"

His name was Robert. I was pleased I'd remembered that and surprised he'd
remembered mine. I turned his way, swallowed nervously, and when my eyes
met his I quickly took another drag on my cigarette.

"Uh...", I mouthed. "Yeah."

"Hi..." he repeated. His eyes were still wide as he looked me up and
down. He had the slightly weathered tan of someone who enjoys the
outdoors. Short sandy brown hair gave way to well-manicured stubble along
his jaw. As I studied his masculine features, I could've sworn his gaze
kept flicking between my bashful eyes and my crotch. Understandably so, I
guess.

"I'm sorry if I scared you," he continued, rightly assessing that I was too
dumbstruck to speak. "I heard you opening the balcony door, so I thought
I'd come out and say hello."

If he couldn't take his eyes off my crotch - and the outline of my
gradually stiffening cock - then I couldn't look anywhere but his chest. He
wasn't wearing a shirt, just a pair of jeans. Thick brown hair covered his
well-defined chest and most of his stomach before the trail disappeared
beneath denim. He was in extremely good shape for someone of his age.

"I, uh... could also smell your cigarette," he laughed, "and thought I
might be able to pinch one from you."

He'd already stepped up to the dividing wall at the limit of his balcony
before I realised what to do.

"Oh, sorry," I gasped. "My pack's just inside."

Tottering in my heels towards the apartment, the reflection in the glass
balcony door enabled me to see him lean forward and watch me disappear
inside. I ducked into the kitchen and fumbled for my cigarettes. All alone
now, I suddenly realised how quickly my heart was beating. I'd been
sprung. My secret was out now. My neighbour knows it. He was leering at
me. He just checked out my ass. What should I do?

My cock was now fully erect. Again I adjusted it so it lay flat across the
top of my right thigh. I poured myself a shot of vodka and downed it in one
gulp. I breathed deeply, picked up the packet of cigarettes and went back
outside.

(To be continued)

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