Date: Fri, 30 Sep 2016 10:49:14 -0400
From: Full Name <lovepinkpumps@excite.com>
Subject: TS/Aunt Maggie, Part 1 (Revised)

Thanks for all the nice comments on all three parts of "Aunt Maggie". I
hope you like this revised version of Part 1 just as much.

I respond to all emails, so if I didn't to yours, it's because my address
changed to: lovepinkpumps@excite.com

Please note that I haven't referred to any of my star characters as
"tgirls" in quite awhile. And I've never used "trannies", "shemales",
etc. My "special girls" are just that, and that only.

All of this, I think, that makes my "special" characters more feminine. And
isn't that the point?

Like all of my stories, this is fiction and fantasy, and please donate to
Nifty. If you don't, how can you read other stories like this?
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

If it's illegal for you to read this for whatever reason, then don't.

Aunt Maggie
By Pink Pumps
(REVISED)

Chapter 1

Hello! My story of how Christopher became Christy starts on the day I went
work for a company that provides secretarial services to small businesses
that can't afford full-time secretaries.

Before you poke fun at a me for being my career in a female-dominated
world, let me tell you three things: (1) I am not a secretary, (2) I am the
only male here, (3) every woman here is beautiful. And there are 30 of
them. As they say, all of them could eat crackers in your bed and you
wouldn't complain.

I'm the IT Specialist at the company and it's impossible to walk through
our office, look around, and not get a hard-on. Impossible.

My problem is that I am as androgynous as they come. If my hair is cut
short, I look like a nerdy guy. If I wear my hair long, I look like a bland
girl.  I'm not handsome enough to attract women; too plain for men.

I'm 19 years old, but I graduated from college when I was only 18. I'm a
computer whiz. But there are a lot of them around these days, and I was
having a very hard time finding a job. Well, in steps Margret, the owner of
the firm.

Margret is a strikingly beautiful 40 year old. She has Nordic looks –
naturally blond hair, blue eyes, and very tall. She towers over me when she
wears heels, which is daily. Hell, she towers over me without heels.

When I interviewed for the job, she said she damn near offered it to me
after only 30 minutes. I got the job on my merits, which are undeniable. I
also got the job because of my looks. Margret had had some serious problems
with the other men she'd hired. Every one of them had unmercifully hit on
the women here, made inappropriate sexual comments, and eventually
"drooled" themselves out of a job.

"Christoper, please don't take this the wrong way," said Margret after I
accepted the position. "I don't mean this the way it's going to sound, and
I promise from the bottom of my heart that what I'm about to say is not
meant to disparage you in any way. In fact, I'm telling you this because
you seem like the type I can trust. Can I trust you?"

"Of course," I said.

"The main reason you got the job is because you're the best damn IT
specialist I've ever interviewed. The other is your looks. The women here
will not think of you as an aggressive man."

Well, that stung a bit, I must admit. But Margret came from around her desk
and pulled up a chair beside me. She took one of my hands in both of hers.

Just her being that close; just smelling her intoxicating perfume; just the
swishing sound her stockings made as she crossed her long legs, almost made
me cum in my pants.

"If you'll allow me, I can create a beauty out of you. I can see right now
you have the looks. They're just hidden. I can show you how to wear your
hair. I can help you buy clothes that will be very flattering. And many
other things. Will you allow me to do that?"

Of course I would. Who wouldn't? The job paid top-dollar and I would be
surrounded by beautiful women. It would dawn on me later that I let one of
her words fly right over my head. She said she'd make me a "beauty", not
"handsome."

"Well, settle into your job and we'll take it slowly," she said. "Deal?"

"Deal," I said without hesitation.

"If I asked you to grow your hair out some, would you?"

"Sure. How long?"

"Just below your ears is a start."

A start for what?

Chapter 2

After about six months on the job, I must admit that I was having very
strong feelings for Margret. Obviously she has sex appeal, but there was
something else I couldn't put my finger on. One thing I was certain of,
though – I was completely out of my league with her. Several times she
caught me staring at her, but when she noticed and made eye contact, she
just smiled. It was a very sweet smile, too. Pity for me? I didn't think
so; I really didn't. But what?

It was a Friday when my life changed completely. I wasn't looking forward
to another very lonely weekend, but I am what I am, right? As it was
approaching 5 o'clock, Margret stopped by my desk.

"We've become very good friends, haven't we, Christoper?" asked Margret.

"We have, and I love it here," I answered.

"I think it's time for me to start helping you with the changes I
mentioned," she continued. "Could you spend the weekend at my house?"

There was nothing overtly sexual, said or implied. I just felt like she was
inviting a friend to her house so we could spend some downtime
together. She had a pool, so maybe we'd just hang out by it.

"Yes, of course! I'll run home and pack a bag and be at your house no later
than 6."

"That won't be necessary. I'll drive us home at 5, and you won't need
anything more than what you have on."

"But ..." I said.

"No `buts!'" She said, but there was that smile again. "We'll go shopping
for everything you need tomorrow. My treat!"

So when 5 o'clock came, we walked out of the office together, the heels of
Margret's five-inch alligator-skin pumps clicking enticingly on the parking
garage's pavement.

As we approached her Jag, I assumed I would walk to the passenger side, and
she the driver's side. But she was at my elbow when we got to the passenger
door. She clicked the remote for the locks and opened the door for me.

"Slide your butt in first, but keep your feet on the pavement and your
knees together," Margret instructed.

I did.

"Now, keep your knees together and swing your legs in."

I did that, too.

"Perfect," she said.

Perfect what? Damn, I was so confused.

We chatted on the way to her house, and when we arrived, I moved to get out
of her car.

"Wait," she said. Margret has this way about her that's forceful, but
disarmingly polite. I obeyed.

She walked around her car and opened my door for me yet again.

"Now slide your legs out, knees together and place your feet on the
ground."

Remembering how she instructed me to get into her car, I automatically knew
what to do to get out.

"Perfect again," she said.

We walked into her huge den and she motioned for me to sit on a leather
couch. She went to a wet bar and fixed two vodka martinis. She never asked
what I wanted, but I love vodka martinis, the dryer the better. Forcefully
polite again.

Beautiful Margret sat on the couch with me and almost took my breath away
by sitting so close. She placed her arm around me and pulled me to her.

"I want to call you `Chris' for now. Is that okay?" she asked. "And I want
you to call me `Maggie.' How does that sound?"

Of course it sounded okay.

We downed three martinis and were loosing up. As we talked, Maggie brushed
her breasts against my shoulder several times. On purpose?

She looked me in the eyes and said, "Chris, you're such a gentleman. I know
you would never stare at my breasts at work. But we're not a work now. Do
you like my breasts?"

"They're beautiful, Maggie."

"Would you like to see them?"

I didn't even have to answer. Maggie pulled away from me and unbuttoned and
took off her silk blouse. She reached around and unclasped her bra, and the
most beautiful breasts I'd ever seen swung free. They were full and
plump. I'd learn later that they're 38Ds, but they fit her tall, almost
willowy frame perfectly without being overwhelming. And her quarter-size
areola were pale pink. Her nipples were rock hard.

"Touch them," said said.

She didn't have to ask twice. I fondled them for a minute or so, then she
said, "Suck them." She cupped a breast with one hand, offered it to me, and
gently pulled my head to it with the other.

I sucked away like a feeding baby, then she moved her hand to my crotch and
started to feel my cock through my trousers. Needless to say, I was
stainless-steel hard.

She stood, unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor. Her long legs
always look great in the sheer stockings she always wears, but I had no
idea if she wore pantyhose, thigh-highs or stockings and a garterbelt. I
did have my fantasies, though.

Holy crap! Maggie was wearing stockings and a garterbelt! And NO PANTIES!
The garterbelt and stockings highlighted and framed her full but trimmed
pubic bush.

She stepped out of her skirt and said, "Let's go upstairs, darling."

Again, she didn't have to ask twice. The wiggle and jiggle in her naked ass
as she climbed the stairs was breathtaking.

After we entered her bedroom, Maggie said, "Take off your clothes." I
stripped as fast as I could and there I stood, completely naked, my
five-inch peeny harder than it had ever been.

"Sit," she said, and patted the bed. I followed orders and she sat down
beside me. She took my face in her hands and kissed me. She placed a soft
warm hand on my cock and began stroking.

"Chris, have you ever fucked a woman?"

I had, I told her, but not many.

"Have you ever sucked a cock?"

"No."

"Have you ever wanted to?"

"Well you asked me to trust you, so I will."

"Completely?"

"Yes."

"No questions?"

"No."

"Have you ever fantasized about a man, Chris?"

"Well, not a specific man, if that's what you're asking. But I have
wondered what it would be like to wear women's clothes. They're so much
prettier than what a boy or man wears. I've never worn panties, but it
would probably be nice. I love the way you dress – tight skirts, silk
blouses, stockings, garterbelts, heels."

"So you've been looking," she giggled.

"Well, it's impossible not to."

"Tell me more. All of it."

"I've wondered what it would be like to be with a man, with me dressed in a
little black dress, sheer black thigh-high stockings and black stiletto
sandals. No panties. Not even a thong."

"Ooooh! Naughty! I like that," said Maggie.

She gave me a gentle, slow hand job and I shot off all over both of us. She
just smiled and gave me a peck on the lips.

Then she took my hand, guided me into her bathroom, and drew a warm bubble
bath. We both got in the big deep bathtub. She shampooed and rinsed my hair
– it felt so relaxing.

After we got out, she patted us dry. I could get used to this.

Maggie led me to her dressing table, and motioned for me to sit in the
chair. She covered the mirror with a towel so I couldn't see what was going
on.

"Give me a little while, then tell me what you think."

She blow-dried my hair, then went to work with a curling iron. When she was
done with that, she used scissors to trim the front of my hair, leaving me
with bangs. Then she applied a light coat of lip gloss.

Maggie removed the towel over the mirror and said, "So?"

I was speechless at first. I even gasped! Looking back at me from the
mirror was a very pretty teen girl. A flat-chested girl, but a girl
nonetheless. With a cute Dutch-girl hairdo! Remember "Scout" from the movie
"To Kill a Mockingbird?" I was a blond version of her.

"I think I love it," I said.

"Shall I finish?"

"Yes, please."

She applied a light coat of makeup, eye shadow and more pink lip gloss.

"Wait," she said.

She returned with some ice and a needle. She expertly pierced my ears and
inserted a pair of diamond studs.

"Up," Maggie said.

She helped me step into a pair of white cotton panties, then slipped a pink
sundress over my head and let it fall to mid-thigh. She turned me to the
mirror again. I stared until she broke the silence.

"You're my niece `Christy,'" she said.

"Yes," is all I could think to say.

Still naked, my new Aunt Maggie donned her pumps and led me downstairs.

We ate a light supper, before retiring to the couch with drinks in
hand. She crossed her long legs and let a pump dangle from a foot. My dress
tented, and why wouldn't it? I was sitting next to a goddess who was naked
but for her stiletto pumps. Maggie noticed my little stiffy.

"We can't have that, honey," she said. Maggie reached under my dress,
grabbed the elastic waistband of my panties and pulled. I raised my hips
off the couch so they could clear my peepee.

"Hold your dress up, Christy. We don't want you to get cum on it."

She stroked me into another explosive orgasm.

"Bedroom," she said, and we walked upstairs; again that beautiful ass at my
eye level. Maggie helped me remove my dress, then pulled a diaphanous
baby-blue nighty over my head. It reached just below my peeny. She offered
no panties.

I was presented with a pair of strappy baby-blue five-inch stiletto sandals
and she helped me with the buckles.

"See if you can walk in them, baby," Maggie said. "Take small steps, one
foot in front of the other, and let your ass swing."

I managed, then she had me try it again. And again. And again. I finally
got it and she gave me a hug and a kiss. I was hard again.

She got on the bed, spread her beautiful legs and said, "Eat me."

I did.

Then after we fucked ourselves out, she wrapped me in her arms and we
slept.

Chapter 3

When we awoke the next morning, Maggie was spooning me.

"Thank you for last night," I said.

"You are most welcome, my lovely Christy," Maggie whispered, then nibbled
an earlobe.

"But why?" I asked.

"Why not?" she countered.

"I love everything about this, but tell me where this is going."

"Well, my love, it seems to be going in the right direction, does it not?
Remember when we hired you and we discussed your looks?"

"Of course," I said.

"Well, THEN you WERE a `plain James,' who was a genius IT specialist. NOW
you ARE a very `beautiful Jane,' who is a genius IT specialist. Wouldn't
you agree?"

Hell, yes, I agreed!

"Honey, I don't want a man in the traditional sense. Not at all," she
continued. "But that doesn't mean I don't have sexual needs. I know that
probably doesn't make a helluva' lot of sense after they way I dressed you
last night, does it?"

"Honestly, no," I said. "Not at all."

She giggled at that. A very sweet, alluring giggle.

"Do you have feelings for me, darling?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Well, would it surprise you to learn that I have feelings for you, too?"

"Yes, it would surprise me."

"Well, I DO, silly! And I've had feelings for you for quite some time, I'll
admit. I love the way you look at me when you think I don't know. You're so
cute when I catch you. Can't you tell? Let's let this play out and see
where it goes, hum? Do you still trust me?"

"Completely."

"Without hesitation? You will do ever thing I ask without question?"

"Yes."

"Let me make YOU happy while you make ME happy, darling. Give in. All the
way in."

"I will," I said. "Without hesitation. Without question. All the way in."

I turned onto my back and she mounted me, guiding my hard cock into her
very wet pussy. We moved in unison for awhile, then she screamed, "Oh, my
god! I'm coming so hard! Cum with me baby! Shoot it in me now!"

I did just exactly that.

We rested for a bit, kissing and fondling. I erected again.

"More to come, baby, but not now. We have a lot to do today," Maggie said.

We had stripped off our heels before we went to sleep last night, but I was
still wearing the babydoll. And Maggie was STILL delightfully naked. I
raised my arms and she lifted the nighty off me.

We padded to the bathtub and soaked for awhile. I washed Maggie's wonderful
titties and she soaped my hard cock. We got out and patted each other
dry. She applied scented powder to us both.

Then she guided me to the dressing table again and I sat down, hoping she
was about to make me beautiful.

She worked with my hair a bit, tying a yellow ribbon in it.

I applied my own makeup, but took her advice when she offered it.

When we were done, Maggie helped me into a pair of white cotton panties
with yellow trim. The she pulled a yellow elasticized tube-top over my head
and down over my flat chest. She helped me step into a white pleated
miniskirt and a pair of off-white boat shoes.

She latched a single strand of pearls around my neck, then slipped a silver
tennis bracelet on my wrist.

I was a flat-chested, casually elegant teen beauty when she was done.

"We'll do something about the boobies, honey," Maggie said. "You'll find
everything you need for Bloody Mary's at the bar. I'll be down in a
minute."

I descended the stairs and went to the wet bar and mixed two Bloody
Mary's. In just a few minutes, I could hear Maggie's heels clacking on the
stairs.

She was wearing a white sheath-type dress with bare shoulders. It was tight
enough to cling to her in all the right places without being slutty. She
had on white four-inch strappy sandals with no stockings.

Her jewelery was all gold, but not overdone. She had a white ribbon holding
her ponytail.

What a stunning beauty Maggie is. On top of that, she thinks I'm beautiful,
too.

We drank a couple of Bloody Mary's and I prepared omelets.

"We need to get a move on, honey. We have a ton of shopping to do today,"
Maggie said.

"I know, but I'm scared."

"I understand. But there's nothing to be scared of. Did you see a boy in
the mirror this morning?"

"No."

"What did you see?"

"I saw a pretty teenage girl."

"Shall we go shopping, Christy?"

"Yes."

Chapter 4

We walked out of Maggie's house, hand-in-hand, and she again opened the car
door for me. I slid in like a lady, and smiled at Maggie.

"Well, done, Christy!" Maggie said. "You're wearing a miniskirt and you
didn't flash your panties. It won't be long before you're the perfect teen
angel, my love. In fact, may I say you already are?"

Holy shit! I blushed! Do boys blush? I know boys get red in the face, but
do they blush? Maybe I was getting there. For real.

As we drove, she placed a hand on one of my bare thighs. Even as small as
my thingy is, when I got hard from her touch, it showed in my miniskirt.

"Oh, my goodness!" she giggled. "I guess I'd better stop that, huh?"

"Yes, maybe you better," I said. "But what if I get out of the car with a
stiffy?"

"We won't let that happen, darling. Just relax."

I didn't exactly relax, but the thought of being in public as a teen girl –
in a miniskirt, no less – for the first time took care of my
erection. The little turtle pulled its head back into the shell.

We stopped first at a salon where we got manicures and pedicures. All of
the people there knew Maggie very well, and she introduced me as her niece
Christy. I was told over and over that I was beautiful. Like Maggie. Was I
really? Maggie said so. They said so. But ...

Then before I knew it, we were walking in the mall. Oh, shit! I was scared
to death!

"Christy, darling, the boys are staring at you," Maggie teased.

"Oh, no!" I moaned. "They know!"

"Honey, they know they're seeing a very beautiful young lady out for a day
of shopping. Just trust me."

"I do. I won't stop now. Just don't leave me alone, please."

"I won't."

We walked into a Victoria's Secret. As scared as I was, I erected again and
it showed. Aunt Maggie noticed, thank goodness.

She stood between me and a saleslady so she couldn't see, and said, "Would
you give us a minute? We'll be right back."

She led me into a nearby women's restroom. Oh, my!

We went into a stall, and Maggie closed and locked the door.

"Hold your skirt up, honey," Maggie said.

I did and she pulled my panties down to my thighs. She took me into her
mouth and after just a few seconds, I exploded. She easily swallowed all of
my cum, wiped the tip of my peeny with a piece of toilet paper, pulled my
panties back up, and gave my thingy a little love pat. She touched up her
lipstick and we headed back to Victoria's Secret.

Just as we got there, she asked, "Christy, do you love me?" Just out of the
blue, she asked me if I loved her!

"Yes," I said. "Very much."

"And I love you just as much. Will you move in with me as my lover and
become `Christy' full-time?"

"Yes. Let's do this."

"Yes, let's," said Maggie.

Over the next few hours, Aunt Maggie bought me panties, thongs, dresses,
skirts, blouses, high-heels, casual shoes, jewelry...

But not a single pair of pants – well, just short-shorts – and NO
pantyhose. Clothes to workout in. Everything! Tank-type swimming
suits. Even a teeny, tiny white bikini!

When we were done, there must have been 20 big, full boxes of new girls
things for me. Maggie arranged for all of it to be delivered to her house,
and we walked to a food court.

"Order salads and iced tea, please, Christy. No sugar in either!"

She turned and walked out. I was alone! But she promised not to do that!

A young waiter took the orders and smiled at me. He thought I was a pretty
girl, I was sure of it! I even managed to shyly smile back. Did Aunt Maggie
leave me alone to help build my confidence as "Christy?" Well, his smile
DID make me more confident.

The salads and drinks arrived – and the waiter smiled again – just as
Maggie got back to our table. She was holding a bag. I looked at her
questioningly.

"It's a surprise, honey," Maggie said.

We chatted as we ate, and I'll admit I was beginning to accept this teen
girl thing.

On our way home, she walked me to and from her Jag, opened the door for me
both times, and I got in and out ladylike.

By then, the packages had been delivered.

Maggie grabbed one of the smaller ones and we walked upstairs. We both
stripped naked.

She pulled the tiny bikini from the box, and she helped me slip it on and
adjust it.

Then Maggie put on bikini. Just as white as mine; just as tiny. The
triangles at the top barely covered her nipples. Then she stepped into a
pair of yellow pumps. I was handed a pair in pink. Five-inch heels. Both
pair.

"Unless she plans on getting in the water, a proper lady wears heels with
her bikini, darling. We're not getting in the water. We're working on our
tans today."

We walked down the steps – both asses jiggling. Her boobies doing the
same. Not mine, of course – and out into the warm sun to her pool.

I applied oil to her luscious body, then she returned the favor. I got
hard. She pulled my thong bottom to the side, and gave me a blowjob.

"You can't be hard in your bikini, can you, love?"

Well, if this was how being hard in a bikini ends, then I wanted to be
hard. As much as possible.

While we sunned, Maggie fixed a pitcher of margaritas and we drained
it. With beautiful buzzes on we retired to the bedroom and fucked like two
schools kids doing it for the first time.

We napped for a little while, then went through the whole bathtub and
makeup thing again.

I'm not hairy by any means, but Maggie shaved my legs and trimmed my pubes
in a "V" shape. Nice!

For some reason, Maggie insisted that she give me an enema. Actually, she
gave me a series of enemas until I ran crystal clear. Then she gave me a
scented douche. Very pleasant ...

"I want my Christy squeaky clean tonight," was all she would say. What the
fuck just happened? I mean, it was great, but why?

When we were done, Maggie handed me a white floor-length see-though
dressing gown and shooed me down stairs.

"I need 30 minutes, my darling," she said. "Then bring up two martinis."

After giving her time, I walked back up and gently tapped on the door,
trying my best to balance the tray with the martinis as I did. Maggie
invited me in.

She was dressed and laid out on the bed was a little back dress, sheer
lace-top black thigh-high stockings and strappy black five-inch stiletto
sandals. That's what had been in her bag at the food court.

But no panties.

"My surprise, honey," she said. "Tonight you live your fantasy."

Chapter 5

Maggie was dressed rather conservatively for the evening out, I must
say. Mostly gray with plain black pumps. No stockings and very little
jewelry. I had to wonder why.

We held hands again as we walked to her car, and she opened the door for
me, as usual. But this time I slid in and purposely exposed my hard peepee,
and let my dress ride up past my hips.

"Well," she giggled, "I guess that means you like the clothes. Without
panties, of course!"

Maggie, wisely, kept her hands to herself as we rode to the restaurant. The
last thing I needed now was to keep my stiffy.

We were met by a valet, who held my door, and I managed swing my legs out
of the car without exposing myself completely. But my dress rode up enough
for the lacy tops of my thigh-highs to show. He was a true gentleman and
averted his eyes.

After giving me time to adjust my dress, he offered me his hand. "May I
assist you, miss?" he said.

I took his hand and he gently helped me to my feet.

We were met by the Maitre'D, who Maggie kissed on the cheek.

"Andrew, may I introduce my niece Christy? She's just enrolled at school
here and will be living with me."

The Maitre'D, bowed slightly at the waist, took my hand and said, "I hope I
will be seeing you often, Miss Christy. It will be my pleasure to assist
you and Miss Margret."

Then he whispered to me, "Your aunt is a head-turner here, if you don't
mind my saying so. And so shall you be, too."

Obviously Maggie overhead and said, "You always know the perfect things to
say, Andrew. What's good tonight?"

"May I suggest the grilled swordfish, Miss Margret," he said. "It was
brought in fresh today. Now, ladies, shall I escort your table?"

He offered us his arms, and we both took one. And heads really did turn as
we walked, but most eyes were on me. Meeee! Now I understood why Maggie
dressed down. Tonight was my night.

I was praying I wouldn't get a stiffy, but it was impossible not too! I
mean, I'm in a little back dress, stockings, heels and no panties! And
people thought I was pretty. The Maitre'D helped me with my chair and
placed a napkin on my lap just before I erected. Wow, just in time!

Maggie giggled and said, "Do we need to go to the ladies room, baby?"

I blushed. "I think I'll be fine. And I need to forget you said that, or we
really will need to."

Dinner was great. The wine was great. The conversation was great. The
stares I got as we walked out were great. EVERYTHING about this was great.

Again I managed to get into Maggie's car without flashing the valet, but we
drove away in the opposite direction from Maggie's house.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Sit tight, love," she said. "The night is just beginning."

Chapter 6

We drove to the next town over, and Maggie pulled into a very nice
hotel. She didn't even bother to register, just strode confidently to the
elevators. The elevator door closed and she pressed a button. Several
floors later, the elevator stopped and we got out and started down the
hall.

"Maggie, please tell me what's going on," I pleaded

"Just enjoy what's coming," she giggled. "Just enjoy."

We reached the door to a room, and she tapped lightly. The door swung open,
and there stood a man. A very handsome man. A very young man. A very naked
man. A very erect man.

I stood in stunned silence.

"Go in, sweetheart," said Maggie. "We can't have a naked man in the hall!"

I did. Still stunned.

"Welcome to your fantasy, Christy," Maggie said. "But don't mind me. I'll
just sit here and watch."

Whoever this person was, took me in his arms and kissed me. He helped me
slip out of my dress and handed it to Maggie.

He guided me to the bed and I sat, in only my stockings and
heels. Flat-chested me wearing only stiletto heels and sheer stockings!
With a hard, naked man. Oh, my! This really is my fantasy.

Maggie dimmed the lights. He offered me his cock and I kissed the head. Not
so bad! I began to lick and suck around the head, then took him in as
deeply as I could. He moaned. I made him moan!

I continued sucking until I thought I could feel his orgasm building. How
did I know that? I guess I just did. I stopped and laid on my back, and he
slid in beside me. We kissed a little and I played with his cock. It was
really big. Could I get this thing in me?

As I stroked him, he began sucking my tiny nipples. My diamond-hard
nipples! I untangled myself, laid back and spread my legs.

"Please," I said. "Please fuck me."

Then Maggie was at my side. Still with my legs spread, she inserted a lubed
finger. She kept that up until her finger easily slid in and out. She
inserted two fingers. Then three. Now I understood the enemas and douche.

"She's ready," Maggie said.

He moved between my legs and I lifted my hips a little, making it easier
for him to get to my tight pootie-hole. Maggie helped me place my calves on
his shoulders.

She whispered, "Relax darling. Try to relax the muscles in your fuck hole."

I did, and felt the head of his cock pass my sphincter. I muffled a scream.

"Relax, baby. Relax. Breath. He's not going to move anymore until you're
ready."

To my surprise, I adjusted rather quickly and it began to feel so good.

"I'm ready. I think. Push in a little more."

He did, then stopped again so I could adjust.

"Now a little more."

I guess he had four of his eight inches in me. He moved deeper, then
stopped. Adjust. More. Then he was all the way in.

"Give me just a second," I managed to say. I relaxed, took deep breaths,
and adjusted for the final time.

"Okay, fuck me. Please fuck me."

I really don't remember much after that. I just know it was like a Fourth
of July fireworks display.

He pulled out, Maggie wiped his cock off, and kissed him on the
cheek. Before I knew it, he was dressed and out the door.

Maggie slid onto the bed and I rested my head on her chest. She stoked my
hair.

"Thank you," I said.

"You don't have to thank me. You'll never have to thank me for anything."

"But I will."

"I know you will, Christy. That's just one of the many reasons I love you."

After a bit, she wiped the cum still leaking from my poop-chute and helped
me pull my dress on. We left on the stockings but I removed my heels, and
Maggie helped me out of the hotel. I was asleep as soon as she buckled me
in.

The next thing I knew, Maggie was gently shaking me. "Wake up, baby," she
said softly. "We're home."

I was revived enough from the nap to make my way into the house and up to
Maggie's bedroom. Well, I guess it was OUR bedroom now.

She helped me out of my dress and I managed to wash my makeup off.

Maggie slid another babydoll over me. Hell, I can't remember what color,
because it didn't matter in the least. We climbed into bed and she spooned
me. That was beginning to be a nice habit.

"Who was he?"

"Doesn't matter," she said. "I don't even know his real name. I've used him
before. He works for a very discreet service. We've always used that
hotel. I don't need him anymore, do I?"

"No. And neither do I. I'd rather be Aunt Maggie's niece, Christy."

Chapter 7

When we awoke the next morning, still spooned, I said, "What now? What do
we tell the office?"

Maggie giggled that sweet giggle and said, "Let me handle it."

OUTSIDE the office my cover story of Christy the niece would hold up. But
not AT the office.

Sunday came and went. We spent the day at the pool, and actually got in.

We ordered out for dinner. Pizza. With very cold beer.

As we ate, Maggie said, "Okay. I have it figured out. You'll take tomorrow
off and I'll go take care of things at the office. You've trusted me, and I
love you for it. I won't let you down."

"I know you won't. I love you, too." Talk about your whirlwind romance!

That night we made love slowly. But there were still fireworks ...

Monday morning came too quickly. I cooked a light breakfast and Maggie
kissed me goodbye.

I spent the day trying to figure out how this was going to work. But Maggie
had said leave it to her. I trusted her. I knew whatever she worked out
would be perfect.

I sunned in my bikini for awhile. Yes, in heels like a lady! Ate a salad,
and sunned a little more.

Maggie has a full gym, so I donned some of the workout clothes she bought
for me: Yoga pants, a sports bra (not that I needed it) and pink
trainers. I ran on the treadmill until I was soaked in sweat.

After that really nice workout, I went upstairs to soak in a bubble bath.

I dressed in a short pink sundress and put my hair in pigtails, tied with
pink ribbons

Oh, yeah. I left off the panties.

Then I puttered around the kitchen, preparing dinner. I phoned Maggie and
asked her to call when she was 10 minutes from home. She did and I mixed a
pitcher of dry vodka martinis and set two glasses by the sofa. I put two
filet mignons aside for later.

When I heard her in the drive, I ran to the door. I hoped she liked what
she saw.

When she saw me, she smiled that sweet smile of hers

"Well, if it isn't my pretty 13-year-old niece, Christy!" she said. "Love
the pigtails!"

"So I pulled off the very young look, huh?"

"Yes, you did. You more than pulled it off."

"Oh, look, Auntie Maggie," I said in a child's voice – something I
really didn't have to try all that hard to do. I pulled up my sundress
exposing my hard peeny. "I'm not wearing panties!"

"You naughty little girl," she laughed. "I guess I'll have to teach you a
lesson tonight."

"Just like the other lessons you've taught me this weekend, Aunty Maggie?"

"Yes, honey. Just like those."

We sat on the couch for awhile and each drank two martinis. We
kissed. Exchanged "I love yous."

Then I got up and threw the steaks on the grill. I served them rare, with
salad and baked potato. I picked a fruity red wine from Maggie's selection
and she approved.

As we ate, she said, "I have it worked out. Don't ask how. Just trust
me. It will be fine, and so will you."

Chapter 8

Maggie dressed the next morning like she always does – wool business
suit with jacket and knee-length skirt, sheer thigh-high stockings and a
pair of five-inch pumps. I was so freaking nervous, I didn't even notice
whether or not she put on panties.

I, however, was going to have to go to the office as a 19-year-old
girl. And I DID put on panties.

I selected navy blue as the primary color – big navy bow in my hair,
navy jumper over a collard white blouse with puffy short sleevs, opaque
white thigh-highs and navy four-inch pumps with straps over the instep. I
thought I wore what a teen would call business attire.

As we rode, Maggie placed a hand on my thigh. I didn't tent up.

"My goodness! You are nervous," she said.

"I know we've talked about this. I can pull off the niece thing in public,
but I'm scared to death about the office!"

"Believe me, you worry too much."

So the moment of truth arrived. I hung on Maggie's arm as we entered the
office.

I was totally SHOCKED at what I saw. Balloons everywhere! Pink bows
everywhere! And a banner that read: "It's A Girl!"

"So, they know?" I asked Maggie.

"Oh, yes. They more than know."

"So what's with the banner?"

"Well, a beautiful girl named Christy was born this weekend, silly!"

And we lived happily ever after. I'd be telling a big ole lie if I said
Aunt Maggie hadn't worked things out perfectly for Christy.

Oh, yeah. I have a pair of perfect 34B boobies now, courtesy of Auntie
Maggie. She said she would do something about my flat chest, and she never
disappoints. For awhile there, I thought about gender reassignment surgery,
but passed with no reluctance at all. A cute, horny niece with a peepee has
to take care of her aunt, doesn't she? I don't disappoint, either.