Date: Tue, 03 Oct 2000 14:14:49 BST
From: JemimaHeart <jemimaheart@hotmail.com>
Subject: Jemima's Tale

'Jemima's Tale'{Jemimaheart}(MM tv 1st mast anal con)[1!1]

Jemima's Tale -
A true story by jemimaheart@hotmail.com

Part 1 - Aftermath

I'm
exhausted.

I'm still lying where he left me: half-naked, covered in sweat
and face-down on my own living-room carpet. The wet patches under my thighs
and stomach feel tight and sticky on my bare skin. The wool carpet is itchy
against my right cheek and uncovered waist. The whole room seems to
distinctly smell of sex - the sweet musk of sperm, to be more
precise...

Sweat cools on my forehead as I gingerly move my left hand down,
passing the damp limpness of my satiated prick, to reach under my raised
left leg, with the aim of trying to gently sooth the dull ache that throbs
between my buttocks.

There was no escaping the fact that I had been well
and truly fucked...

Images of the previous few hours flit restlessly across
my mind, strange memories of new feelings and sensations that I had never
known before today. Never before have I had to face myself with the
knowledge that my lips and hands and body had touched and caressed and
sexually explored another man. That I had played the female for him, first
performing intimate sexual acts for his pleasure, before finally letting him
use me to satisfy his lust. Even now, half-undressed in frilly white
lingerie, I was spread out across a carpet still damp with the evidence of
our coupling -  not only his semen but also my own.

My cheeks grow warm at
the thought that only an hour ago people were walking past my front window -
literally just feet away from the scene of my debasement. If their vision
had managed to penetrate the obscuring white net curtains, they could have
seen me in my full shameful glory: down on all fours in the middle of the
floor, desperately thrusting my bare bottom for it was worth back into the
groin of the naked blond man kneeling up behind me...

At this image, I
once more feel the strong hands round my waist, holding me down firmly,
brooking no escape from the stiff demands of his cock. With a remembered
thrill of lust, my own prick once more complies obediently with my new-found
role, stirring gently against my sticky thigh at my reawakening excitement
(...I had let that man - that stranger - fuck me like I was a woman...) and
I had loved it. All my unthinkable, long-buried desires had rushed to the
surface and come tumbling out at last, clumsy and desperate with the
strength of their need. There was no excuse left for me - no-one had forced
me to accept his kisses or suck his prick, and neither had I been held down
and raped - what I had done today, I had done willingly, unleashing all my
hidden lustful fantasies of offering myself to a man to fulfil his every
sexual need and desire. No longer could I pretend that my dressing up and my
'special sessions' were just a release of innocent fantasy; now I had
exposed myself as someone who derived his greatest sexual excitement from
actively playing the feminine role in bed. Gay, queer, homosexual - the
words were probably true but my throbbing anus didn't care, it just knew the
wonderful, panting, excitement that had come from being opened and stretched
by a stiff, thrusting prick.

How long ago it seemed since all I knew was my
old world, the solitary world of secret desires and unfulfilled
longings...


Part 2 - Preparing for Pleasure

Inevitably, the day had
dragged at work, and I was out of the office door and walking home, dead on
leaving time. Even as I walked along the street, tempting pictures of the
secret hoard that awaited me in the back of my bedroom wardrobe formed in my
mind and I was glad that the length of my jacket obscured my burgeoning
hard-on from the traffic.

Once home, I rushed upstairs, quickly stripped
off my everyday clothing and went into the shower. When I emerged with
smooth-shaven legs and behind, perfumed and talcum-powdered all over, it
felt like I had finally rid myself of the day.

I went into the bedroom,
opened the large mirrored wardrobe door and retrieved the innocent looking
box labelled 'photocopy paper'. Inside, carefully folded and wrapped in
tissues, numerous items of feminine apparel lay waiting to be enjoyed.
Carefully I extracted my intended outfit for the evening and laid it out
ritually on the bed:
two white satin hair ribbons;
a white satin
choker;
sheer white silk stockings with deep lace tops,
pretty white lace
strapless bra - full cup and expertly padded,
a white satin baby-doll
nightdress with matching frilly-backed pants;
matching white satin
suspender-belt,
fingerless opera gloves in white lace;
white leather
stilettoes with 3-inch heels;

To complete the look, a pair of long clip-on
silver earrings and matching ankle-bracelet.

Then I set out the necessary
items to complete my fantasy session:
a pink latex anal vibrator;
a 7-inch
long, flesh-coloured, dildo - shaped like a real phallus;
a jar of Pond's
'cold cream' and box of tissues;
a 12-inch metal ruler;
four meter lengths
of nylon cord...

My make-up box went on the dressing table, then I put my
maids dress, basque, playsuits and other delights back in the box, restoring
it to its hiding place in the wardrobe. I sat on the bed and selected the
colour scheme for my lipstick and eyeshadow.

My reflection in the mirror
watched as gradually normal everyday features became carefully transformed
with an application of pale blue eyeshadow, a light touch of mascara and the
drawing on of full, luscious, red lips. A hint of blusher to accent the
cheekbones and an altogether more feminine reflection appeared in the
mirror. This was Jemima - her open, inexperienced, features contrasting with
the sparkle of intense longing and passion that shone in her seductively
made-up eyes. She wanted to express her feelings and herself so much, but
always, when she started to let go, their very nature and strength
overwhelmed and frightened her. Only when she really could not stand it any
longer, like today, would she allow her inner self out to satiate itself
with a few precious hours of guilt and pleasure.

I took the ribbons and
tied up my fair-brown, shoulder-length, hair into two cute schoolgirl
bunches high up on my head. The lace choker went round my neck, tying at the
back with a bow. The delicate material brushed my smoothly powdered chin and
I pouted into the mirror, admiring the effect. My heart was already beating
a little faster with the forbidden excitement of looking and acting like a
girl. I reached for the nail-varnish, and sat naked on the bed, painting my
fingers and toes crimson red, to match my lips. They dried quickly in the
cool room.

At last it was time to get dressed.

Still sitting, I opened the
packet of stockings and unfolded them from the cardboard. The late afternoon
sun through the bedroom window gave them a luxurious pearl-like sheen. I
took one, stretching it over my hand and gently rolling it up, then bent
down to my freshly painted foot - always the right one first - and slid my
toes into the weightless ring of silk. This moment always felt the same,
seemingly significant or symbolic. I seemed to become slightly light-headed
as I pulled the silk up over my heel, and beyond, watching and feeling first
my calf, then knee and finally thigh gripped smoothly in a sheen of fine
white silk. I repeated the process with the left stocking, pulling it high
up my thigh to match its twin. A few inches above the lacy stocking-tops, my
prick began to stir with familiar excitement.

I wrapped the lacy bra around
my chest, reversing it so I could fasten it easily at the front. Sliding it
round to the correct position gave me two beautifully curvaceous
breasts.

Next I wrapped the white satin suspender belt around my waist,
again securing it at the front then sliding it round. The front two
suspenders attached easily; I stood up, the bedroom carpet caressing the
soles of my stockinged feet, and turned putting first one foot, then the
other, up on the bed, stretching each remaining suspender down under the
curve of my buttocks until they gripped the back of the lace
stocking-tops.

Instantly I became aroused, feeling the soft, elastic tug of
the suspenders holding the silk hose firmly in place. My heart was beating
faster as I reached for the panties. They felt like the softest thing I had
ever touched, shiny and new, the many frills of white lace making them
unexpectedly heavy in my hand. I bent and stepped into the elasticated leg
holes. Pulling them up around my waist, I heard and felt the exquisite rasp
of satin gliding over stockings and suspenders, then coolly clinging to my
bare thighs until finally my buttocks and stiffened prick were deliciously
encased in the taut, white garment.

It took seconds to bend and place my
feet in the 4-inch heels of the stilettoes; a moment to secure the thin
leather straps over and above my ankles. When I again stood the effect was
amazing - the angle of the shoes pulling my silk-clad calves and thighs
tight and sexy, my bum raised and pushed out invitingly.

Eager to complete
my outfit, I pulled the matching white nightie over my head, adjusting the
thin lace straps on my shoulders. The sheer satin fell down from the large
bow below my bustline, reaching to mid-thigh. It was obviously designed to
reveal a great deal of the wearers frilly-pantied bottom. The gloves slid up
to cling to my upper arms, leaving red tipped fingers free to explore and
caress...

I looked over my shoulder, to critically regard the overall
effect in the mirror, and there was Jemima, all dressed to please in white
satin and lace and waiting for her man to take her. Her enticing vision of
feminine sexuality brought into contrast by the unmistakable male bulge
nestling within the frill-backed panties, half-revealed by the shortie
nightdress...


Part 3 - Satisfying Jemima

Quickly, I placed all my
'equipment' out on the left edge of the bed, removing the top from the jar
of cold cream and laying out a big wad of tissues - in case of
accidents...

Satisfied, I lay back on the edge of the bed, my stiletto
heels resting deep into the pile of the bedroom carpet. I ran my right hand
over my breasts and felt my nipples stiffen lazily beneath the satin and
lace. Slowly, I slid my hand down to my satin-encased prick. For a while, I
allowed one crimson-coated nail to draw slow sensuous circles of pleasure
across the surface of the tautly pushed out material. Then letting it join
its companions in firmly grasping the delightfully-imprisoned column,
trapping it in a tight fistful of sheer, silky, underwear. They started to
sliding the material up and down the swollen hardness, stroking it back and
forth, back and forth, in a long, slow, universal rhythm of pleasure.

I
closed my eyes and felt my excitement growing more urgent at the many
sensations running through me. I began to push down with my feet, freeing my
bottom to move up and down off the bedspread, as I masturbated myself
through the satin panties.

Through the growing pleasure, I imagined it was
someone else's hand - another man's hand - who was working my prick for me
like this; imagine if he was trying to get me so aroused that I would do
anything for him, let him do anything...

My heart started to beat faster,
and I knew that I could deny the familiar, unsatisfied, craving no longer. I
lowered my bottom back to the bed and, with a final caress of prick through
panties, raised my legs up and back until my knees were over my waist. The
points of my stilettoes pointed at the wardrobe mirror, and I looked down
between my breasts, through my splayed thighs to see my reflection, lying on
my back, legs spread and silken bottom displayed, a woman waiting anxiously
for her lover to mount and take her.

I watched my right hand reach over my
crotch, down to the seat of the panties, and deftly find the secret hollow
hiding beneath its tight satin covering. Frills tickled my knuckles as I
pressed, gently at first, then more firmly, pushing the satin against the
opening bud of my anus. My legs quivered in the air. Still watching my
reflection, I reached out, my left hand found the cool latex barrel of the
vibrator. Deftly, I dipped the rounded end of the slender anal 'finger' into
the cold-cream. Holding it practicedly between thumb and middle finger, I
positioned my forefinger over the switch on the rear end. I put it between
my legs.

With my other hand, I pulled the crotch of the panties to one
side, displaying my bare anus to the mirror. I teased the eager sphincter
with the smooth, lubricated tip of the vibrator, enjoying the glorious
sensation of being widened and probed by the slippery head. A push with my
forefinger and it slid easily inside, instantly filling my bottom with a
warm, satisfying ache of fulfilment. (...ohh please - fill me with it - fill
me with your hard cock...) My captive prick strained even harder against its
satin enclosure.

The blunt end of the cylinder bumped against the hot flesh
of my perineum. I clenched my muscles round the slender but firm invader,
strangely proud that I had taken its entire 7 inches were up inside me. It
felt so good and so right to be penetrated like this. I let my head rest
back on the bedcovers, closed my eyes and switched the vibrator on.

A
building sensation of pure, deeply-felt, pleasure buzzed through my entire
lower body. In my mind, the sound of the small motor whirring in the still
room merged with the grinding pulse of the latex cylinder buried between my
legs until they were one and the same. Of their own volition, my hips
shifted on the bed, while, helplessly, I reached into the panties and began
to wank uncontrollably in time to the waves of noise that thrust and churned
inside me. (...yess that's it - give it to me - oh god I can feel it...) My
fingers trembled to the rhythm of the grinding latex cylinder; I pulled it
out and pushed it back inside of me, giving my hot slippery anus the full
benefit of the vibrations, my orgasm started to build, centred exquisitely
at the dual core of anus and groin. It was too soon... to soon to fill the
soft satin panties with cascades of creamy spunk.

Reluctantly, I pulled the
vibrator out of me, switched it off and dropped it on the wad of tissues. My
anus felt hot and scratchy, bereft of its welcome invader. I felt flushed
and sexy. Sitting up, I turned to kneel up on the bed, desperate to continue
and increase the sensations running through me.

I looked over my shoulder
at my reflection and sensuously licked my crimsoned lips . I pushed my
satin-clad rear out, making a show of ruffling the generous frills that
covered it, before taking the waistband of the panties and starting to pull
them down over the taut suspender straps. Inch by inch, the pale cheeks of
my bottom were completely uncovered. I left the panties stretched tight
across my thighs and with my right hand reached down to grasp the shiny
metal of the 12-inch ruler.

Jemima was being very naughty and she deserved
to be reminded her that such degrading, sluttish behaviour was not to be
tolerated. I pressed the flat steel into the skin of my right buttock;
appreciating the feeling of the cool metal. Gently I began to tap the ruler
against my bottom, making the surface of the flesh vibrate slightly and
causing a slight stinging feeling. Still very much aroused by my
near-orgasm, I watched helplessly as my hand slapped harder, first one
buttock, then the other, feeling myself enjoying the increasing tingling
heat building in my cheeks. My knees shifted on the bed with the warm
pleasure flooding through my behind. A glance in the mirror showed my
flushed bottom taking its punishment like a man...

>From under my
nightdress, my unfettered prick strained excitedly out in front of me; I
smacked harder and harder now, my whole rear flaming redder with each
rhythmic slap of the ruler.  (...Ahh show me that burning arse - yes that's
right, show me how you love it...) Delirious with the combined sensations of
stinging pain and ecstatic pleasure, I just wanted relief, to be fucked, to
be dressed like a girl and made to come with my prick exploding and my hole
filled up with a stiff cock...


Part 4 - Final Release

It was too much. My
stomach felt sick with excitement and my thoughts were feverish with  sexual
images of release. Suddenly I knew what I would do; a special thing that I
had previously devised. I would take my dildo and fuck myself from behind
until I climaxed over the floor...

I threw the ruler aside and climbed off
the bed. Pausing to feel the heat from my reddened buttocks, I carefully
pulled the panties down to my ankles and stepped out of them: now nothing
would get in the way. Grabbing the dildo, I exited the bedroom,  the feeling
of cool air moving across my body making me very aware of the gorgeous
lingerie I wore.

It felt extremely naughty to go downstairs and enter the
living room, in full daylight, made up and dressed to thrill in stockings
and heels. The lace curtains prevented anyone seeing in, but  the room still
added to my arousal by making me feel daringly revealed. In front of me,
under the window, I saw what I needed - the brown leather sofa. I caressed
my stiff erection, reminding it of what was to come, and knelt down in front
of the sofa.

Years of feverish experimentation had led me to discover that
it was possible to firmly wedge a long, cylindrical object between the
tightly packed leather cushions of this sofa, in such a manner that it stuck
out, strong and proud, waiting to be used as an instrument of desperate
pleasure. Doggie-style, I would get on my hands and knees and, backing my
eager bottom onto the rigid dildo, fuck myself deliciously from behind...

I
pushed the end of the dildo into the dark crevice between cushion and
armrest. By twisting it slightly, I ensured that it couldn't be pulled out -
not even if gripped with the tightest of muscles...

I looked around.
"Shit..." I said to myself. In my eagerness, I had left the cold cream
upstairs. I felt around between my bare buttocks and fingered my anus -
still fairly moist from earlier attentions, but in need of a little extra
help. (...oh well - nothing for it but to use the natural method...)
Impatiently, I got down on my hands and knees in front of the protruding
dildo, leant forwards and placed my lips over the realistic purple glans.
Automatically, I closed my eyes and began to run my tongue around the head
of the fake penis, making it nice and wet. It was the well-endowed prick of
my lover that I took into my mouth, sucking him excitingly, making him ready
to take me. Soon I would impale myself deliciously on this hard, thick,
shaft, so the slippier it was, the easier it would slip inside...

"Fucking
hell." said a quiet voice directly behind me.


Part 5 - Caught in the
Act

My eyes snapped wide open. My mouth released the dildo and I looked
over my shoulder with a gasp. There, standing in the doorway, was a tall
blonde man staring open mouthed at the sight in front of him. How long had
he been there? I couldn't move a muscle. I was completely, utterly, exposed:
on all fours, dressed in sexy white lingerie, legs splayed wide, bare bottom
in the air, and fellating a dildo for all I was worth. (...found out! - I've
been found out!...) My secret was out.

I could not seem to think
consciously. I remember that it felt like I was living to survive every next
second and no more. My mind seemed to absorb the facts that he was
well-built, late-30's, blue eyes and a fair moustache, wearing a green
T-Shirt, jeans and sandals. Another impression was that this man seemed to
possess a distinct bulge at the crotch area of his jeans. (...was it
possible? - could he be...?)

"OOh..." I murmured tremulously and something
deep inside me, deep inside Jemima, made me wriggle my bottom slightly in my
distress. It must have been obvious to him that I was not a girl - for a
start, I thought, feeling my face flush at the image, my balls would be
visible to him, hanging below my naked bum-crack, but maybe something within
him was responding to my explicit signals of sexual submission. My girlish
make-up and hair, sexy white stockings and high heels, and particularly the
smooth feminine buttocks openly displayed before him, could perhaps be
providing enough female sexual signals for him to become aroused.

Still
looking over my shoulder, I met his gaze, then dropped mine submissively.
"I..I.." I started to try to say something, anything, to make it go away. I
knew from the heat on my cheeks that I was now blushing ferociously. I
slowly sat back on my heels, removing any male elements from his view.

"Oh
God." I finally uttered, and hid my face in lace-gloved hands. "Please..."
In my shame, I still couldn't get any coherent words out. I was totally at
his mercy.

I felt him come and stand near my right shoulder, and I knew he
was looking down at me cowering on the carpet before the protruding evidence
of my humiliation.

"So you like being fucked, then, do you?" The "by men"
was left unspoken. He asked in a matter-of -fact, obtaining information sort
of way, which made it seem a lot worse, somehow. I flinched behind my hands.
No answer seemed possible.

"Well?" he said eventually.

"I don't know, I've
never done it," I made myself whisper, " I just.." (...fantasise about it,
day and night...) my reply trailed off into silence.

"You're queer, though,
yes?"

This was really awful. Although he was just asking this stuff
straight out, I felt like I was destroying myself a bit more with every
reply. "I don't know..." I repeated quietly.

There was a long silence. He
came nearer, looking me up and down intently, until his thigh was almost
touching my bare shoulder. In a moment, I found that I had turned towards
him, and reached around, hugging him to me, pressed my head into his stomach
beseechingly. I felt the heat of him through the thin cotton T-shirt. He
didn't push me away.

"Please..." I heard myself mumbling into his jeans,
"don't tell anyone. Please..I'll do anything."

Unconsciously, my left hand
moved from round his waist and rested on his upper thigh. I really had
intended no connotations in my simple plea, but when I felt a definite swell
of warmth beneath the jeans next to my fingertips, my heart literally
skipped a beat. Unknowingly, it seemed that I had truly put any future
outcome in my own hands.

It seemed the most natural thing in the world to
silently cover that self-same bulge in his jeans with red-nailed fingers and
lightly stroke the swelling denim. - He can feel me touching him - He
neither spoke nor moved away. His breathing stayed slow and regular against
my right ear. I was acting on pure unconscious instinct, aware of nothing
but the twin textures of smooth, worn denim under my hands and wool carpet
through my stocking-clad knees. I remember thinking, as if watching myself
from a distance, 'oh look you're feeling his prick', but it seemed to have
no bearing on what I actually was feeling. It was if it had all been mapped
out for me, long ago. I had been caught pretending to be a girl, so it
seemed only right that I should now act like one. I licked my dry lips,
tasting lipstick, and deliberately, unmistakably, began to caress him
through the pale blue fabric.

Under my fingers, the hidden member hardened,
its shape full and obvious behind the zip fly of the jeans. (... oh God, he
wants it...) It took an instant to grasp the zip fastener and pull down. I
knew I was holding my breath as the prick, covered with its canopy of black
briefs, sprang free as much as it could. Still, he said nothing, so I
watched my fingers cover the warm bulge in front of me and firmly stroke him
through the thin cotton. A gasp from above me and a slight shifting of his
hips let me indeed know that, yes, he was going to allow me to suck him off,
as though I really was a girl.

Careful only to look directly at his groin,
I kneeled up straight and placed a respectful kiss directly on the member
intent on releasing itself before me. Awkwardly, I reached for the waistband
of his jeans and, finding it strangely unfastened, simply hooked my fingers
in his underpants. A single strong pull eased both briefs and jeans well
down muscled thighs.

His cock bounced free, just missing my cheek, and
swung up to his navel. Immediately I smelt the strong, unmistakable musk of
an excited male. I felt the reality of being on my knees in front of another
man, his proudly erect cock just inches away from my face. My heart beat
loud in my chest as I tried to take in what was happening to me - Take him
in your mouth, totally give yourself to him. His prick was sturdy and fat,
appearing to curve slightly to my left. It seemed very different to my own,
now half-limp, organ - he was circumsized, for one thing. My attention was
drawn to the rounded purple-red head as small drops of pre-come oozed out
moistly. I felt a strange female urge to lick them off with my tongue. What
would they taste like? I wondered absently. - There's only one way to find
out.


Part 6 - Jemima's Moment of Truth

I reached out with a shaking hand,
the contrast of bare fingers and white lace of the opera glove making the
act even more sensuous, and lightly touched the stiff veiny shaft, making it
wave to and fro. He gasped and shuddered lightly. I held the aroused manhood
in my hand  feeling the warm pulses of excitement coursing through it. I
felt myself sliding out of control, totally abandoned and depraved. I wanted
this so much.

Angling my head, I presented the rigid prick up to my open
mouth. I lowered my head and took the tip of him between my reddened lips,
distinctly feeling them close around the thickness of the shaft. I remember
thinking how amazingly smooth and slightly damp it felt. I received his
prick further into my mouth, my curious tongue discovering and intimately
exploring the large spongy glans. When I sucked experimentally, he jerked in
my mouth and I almost lost him, so I held the stiff cock steady with my left
hand, instinctively bringing the other up to cradle the large taut, balls
that dangled beneath.

After all the years of dreaming and fantasising about
this moment (...I'm kneeling here sucking him...) - finally experiencing the
full, sensuous taste and feel of a cock made me light-headed with excitement
. Working sideways down the hard shaft, I pushed the head into my cheek and
lathered the underside with saliva. The close male smell of him suddenly
overwhelmed me and, light-headed with greedy pleasure, I leaned forwards and
took as much of him in as I could manage.

Concentrating on trying to swirl
my tongue directly over the swollen head, I murmured my approval, savouring
the salty liquid taste that filled my mouth. I was a hungry calf suckling
the fat and swollen teat offered to me, only dimly aware that saliva was
running wetly across my chin. He moaned aloud now and I felt hands close
around my head. It felt good to be held like that and I glanced upwards, my
mouth now totally full of him, to see his head back, eyes shut tight, as he
enjoyed my inexperienced ministrations at his groin.

His hands urged my
head back and forth, and I quickly learnt, obediently sliding my mouth back
and forth along the whole length of his cock, letting him almost withdraw
from between my lips, then swallowing him right up again in a long, firm
rhythm of pleasure. Automatically, I reached up and held onto his hips for
purchase. Quicker and quicker his prick slid in and out of my mouth, my
lipstick smearing crimson over the repeatedly bobbing shaft. He was actively
moaning with pleasure now, and I could actually feel his engorged member
swelling as it repeatedly bumped against the roof of my mouth.

My reward
arrived unexpectedly; his grip on my hair became tighter, and suddenly he
was coming, and my mouth filled with spurts of warm semen. Totally
surprised, I struggled to accommodate the thick, salty, outpour but the best
I could do was to swallow continuously, receiving his male seed gratefully,
like a real woman, until the flow ebbed.

I knew from my own prick that
after coming it became very sensitive, so I opened my lips and released the
shiny wet member gently. It was still hard, the head bulbous and swollen
from its recent release. I ran my tongue over my lips: the thought that I
could still taste him in my mouth seemed to belong to another person; it
really felt like I had changed - become someone else, perhaps truly growing
into the person whom I had named Jemima - someone who enjoyed taking a man's
cock into her mouth and making him climax. And worse than that, as Jemima I
knew that I would gladly repeat the performance whenever I was allowed...

I
stood on shaky legs and turned away from him to look at the window. Through
the net curtain, two youths passed by noisily, I felt a thrill of pleasure
from imagining that they might have observed my very first attempt at a
blow-job. Things really had changed.

I  felt a touch on my bare bottom and
gasping, I gave a little jump. I started to turn but thought better of it
and remained with my back to him. His hand wandered firmly over my left
buttock, its owner drawing nearer to me. I shivered at the caress and pushed
back ever so slightly, enjoying the sensation of the warm palm sliding
across my cool, naked, flesh. Then he was behind me, both hands intimately
exploring  my rear. I was glad that I had taken time to ensure that it was
as soft and feminine-smooth as possible. My heart started to beat faster
again and I hoped that he was being aroused as much as I was. His hands
moved up, round my waist and he pulled me back against him, simultaneously
reaching his hands round to cup the curves of my breasts.

It was the stuff
of my most intimate fantasies; I moaned out loud, surrendering to the vivid
images in my mind, my excitement jutting out proudly from under my shortie
nightdress. I felt his chest against my shoulders, his stomach against my
back and for the first time in my life I felt the sensation of a man's
erection pressing into my naked behind. Suddenly I was aware that a mutual
decision had been made - he had decided that he didn't care whether I was a
woman or not (... he's going to fuck me anyway...) and I was going to let
him...


Part 7 - The Ultimate Submission

My head in a whirl, I leaned
back against him fully, pushing my rear encouragingly against the
newly-hardened prick. I felt its wet, exciting, hardness settle between my
bottom cheeks as though it was the most natural place in the world for it to
be. I surprised myself by immediately imagining an even better place for it
to go...

Now totally aroused, I didn't care. I looked back over my left
shoulder and was almost shocked as he kissed me, hard and open-mouthed, with
a taste of smoke and mint. I murmured aloud with the pure sensuality of it,
giving myself up to his male urgency, hungrily accepting his thrusting
tongue, suddenly desperate in my desire to be totally mastered by him.

It
went quickly then. He broke the kiss, leaving me momentarily gasping and
confused; firm hands on my shoulders pushed down and obediently I dropped to
my knees. A push in the small of my back propelled me forwards on
outstretched arms. I felt the weight of my breasts as they hung towards the
floor, the tug of the suspenders on my waist. The carpet was soft on the
palms of my hands and I vaguely noticed the neglected dido still protruding
from the sofa on my right.

He knelt down between my legs and used his knees
to nudge mine further apart. Hands pushed my nightie up my back and caught
me firmly by the waist. It was all going very fast and I felt totally dazed;
I looked back and caught a glimpse of his intent, furrowed, brow beneath a
blonde fringe, then I felt his efficient, shameless, fingers sliding up
between my buttocks to rest directly over my anus. Gently but insistently, a
finger probed my tight hole and, finding it still moist from the attentions
of the vibrator a lifetime earlier, slid easily inside. I gasped at the
delicious feeling of penetration and in an instinctive, female movement,
raised my bottom up higher to aid its progress. A faint but distinctive
smell filled the air and my face grew warm at the thought that it was coming
from me. Trembling there, on outstretched hands and knees, I felt utterly
open and vulnerable to this man behind me, as he began to explore the very
core of my body. I knew now that I would let him do whatever he wanted to
me, I was totally his, a sexual plaything for him to use however he
liked.

The finger moved in slow circles, widening and stretching with a
calculated erotic intent that brought my prick up hard and stiff below my
bare stomach. Another finger joined it, moving in and out of the gripping
muscle, a firm rhythmic glimpse of what was to come. I lowered myself
forwards, my elbows resting on the soft carpet, and moaned in my
abandonment. My knees spread wider apart and I could not help tipping my
bottom up even further to meet the wonderful thrusting going on inside me.
When I felt three fingers working into me my heartbeat leapt like I was
going to die, I began to breathe heavily, sweat braking out on my forehead
as the masterful digits pushed and stretched - making me ready to perform
the ultimate sexual submission - to accept his stiff maleness inside my
body.

The fingers withdrew and I felt my anus close around the sudden
emptiness. Then I felt something both soft, yet strangely hard, run slowly
over my open rosebud, before teasing it gently with little probing pushes.
(...feel it - it's his cock - waiting to open you up...) He raised himself
up behind me and his hands came up to steady my hips. I distinctly felt the
large, sticky, head of his prick pressing directly against my raised
entrance. Light-headed, and with excited anticipation churning in my
stomach, I literally felt like I would faint, there on the carpet in front
of him.

"Does that feel good, then?" Another little push of his prick
opened me slightly, emphasising the tease in his question.

I was helpless
to do anything but gasp back weakly: "..oh yes.. ...YES..", before he thrust
his hips forward, pulling me back onto his prick in a single, powerful,
movement. I cried out loud, feeling my anus stretching to accept the
engorged thickness of his shaft; then suddenly, easily, he was inside. My
head went back and my eyes closed with the intensity of the feelings within
me. My arms and legs were trembling so much I could barely support
myself.

The pressure in my bottom mounted and I could not help trying to
bear down on the invading shaft. I winced momentarily at a sharp, burning
pain, then it was gone and all I could feel was the slow but inexorable
progress of his cock working its way into the deepest recesses of my body.
(...fucking you - he's actually fucking you...)

I felt like I truly
belonged to him now; this man whose stiffened prick was intent on wedging
itself ever deeper between my open buttocks. I started to wriggle with the
effort of taking it all in but the firm hands around my waist ensured that
there was no escape - he was making me accept each and every inch of him.
>From far away I heard luxurious female noises of appreciation and knew that
they escaped from my own lips: "Oh... oh...OH!...ohh please!..."

Then all
my dreams became swooning reality: a final push and his shaft slid inside
completely. Cool, male thighs pressed firmly into my trembling backside;
wiry pubic hair nestled up between my sweaty bottom cheeks. I swallowed
hard, my thoughts on fire with the knowledge - and, oh yes, the feeling -
that I had taken the entire length of this man's prick up deep inside my
bottom, letting him totally possess me.

For a few moments we stayed still
like that. Maybe he was giving me time to get used to the exquisite feelings
that rippled through the very core of my being. My only thoughts were that
it felt so good and so right to be taken like this, and the longer it went
on the better and better it felt. The feeling of being totally filled and
stretched by his wonderful prick grew stronger and stronger, matched only by
my mounting arousal.

I threw back my head and began to pant, my excitement
fuelled by the sudden thought that the same stiff column of flesh that was
buried to the hilt inside my bottom, had minutes earlier been thrust between
my rouged and eager lips. He was really and truly making me his...

Unable
to help myself, I once more resorted to trying to clench my muscles around
the rampant, invading shaft. This time there was no discomfort; instead I
suddenly became so completely aware of the entire wonderful length buried
inside me that I moaned in sheer pleasure and literally squirmed on the end
of his prick. This seemed to give him the cue to withdraw slightly from me
before returning, exquisitely filling me once more. I found this movement
extremely arousing and he repeated it, slowly at first, then with increasing
speed. As his slippery rod slid back and forth into my yielding anus, I
realised that, gently but firmly, I was now properly being fucked...

My
rear was on fire from this new assault. The gorgeous man behind me pushed
harder and harder into the accommodating cheeks of my bottom; each slap of
the powerful thighs pounding against my quivering backside forcing an
answering gasp of utter pleasure from my open, panting mouth.

Over my
shoulder, a hissed groan let me know of his own enjoyment and sent violent
surges of warmth blasting through my groin. I was acutely aware of his thick
cock thrusting into me, his strong arms supporting me, the backs of my
stockings sticking sweatily to the front of his own thighs, the silk hem of
my nightie falling to brush the head of my own straining prick...

Suddenly
it was all too much. Arching my back and choking out a cry of absolute
ecstasy, I jammed my bottom right back against him and came all over the
carpet beneath me, my prick squirting jets of spunk uncontrollably, as I
writhed in the grip of the greatest orgasm of my entire life.

Helpless in
my climax, my muscles locked in a steel reflex round his cock. I briefly
felt him shudder before he slammed his groin into my rear with a thrust that
lifted my knees from the carpet. An arm scooped beneath my waist, pulling me
back tight against him. He grunted in pleasure and I squealed my
encouragement, actually feeling his prick jerking wildly inside me. Then,
for the first time in my life, I knew the incredible sensation of a man
ejaculating into my anus. Warm semen spurted into me, completely flooding my
insides. I moaned out loud, totally overwhelmed with the delicious sensation
of his come pumping inside me, deep and strong.

It seemed to go on for
ages. I felt totally depraved, wantonly pressing my buttocks back onto him
while he finished inside me. It felt so totally right. I felt like I wanted
to be Jemima all the time... I would live only to dress up in sexy underwear
and be fucked by this strong, masculine, man... but above all, to receive
this warm sticky fulfilment of his lust up between the cheeks of my bottom,
over and over again...


Part 8 - Jemima's Future

Finally he was done. He
groaned once more and eased his grip on my waist. My knees at last gave way
and I slumped forwards to the floor. The movement caused his prick to
withdraw, and I gave a little cry as it bounced stickily along my
bottom-crack and away.

Physically and emotionally exhausted, I rested my
cheek on the soft carpet and winced slightly, my softening and sensitive
member now trapped beneath my stomach. I became aware that I was lying in a
significant amount of damp patches. Now exposed to the air, the entrance to
my anus felt distinctly wet and sticky with his sperm. I closed my eyes and
marvelled at how I was feeling: now that I had finally done it, how
satisfying it had felt to be made love to bu a man. What was strange was
that my orgasm had not diminished my excitement by one iota - already I
found myself excitedly wondering if being fucked in a different position
would feel different, maybe on my back like a woman so I could kiss him as
he took me -  a whole world of possibilities was opening up for Jemima to
explore her secret lustful fantasies...

He knelt down in front of my face
and I opened my eyes. I was surprised to see that he was already fully
dressed. His hand reached down, tilting my chin up to look at him. I felt
myself blush again, thinking of the intimacy that I had just shared with
this stranger, feeling vulnerable yet terrible aroused at the same time.


His steady gaze held mine and I heard him say: "I've got to go. Be here
next week. Same time..." His blue eyes flickered over my lingerie-clad body
and my heart missed a beat as he added: "...and be ready for me."

Then he
stood and was gone.

As I drifted off to sleep, vaguely aware of the kitchen
door closing (...is that how he got in?...) behind my new lover,  (...you
don't even know his name...) I knew that my life had changed forever.
Twenty-eight years of repression and denial had been brought to a climax -
literally - by letting Jemima, myself, express those deepest longings to
make love to a man. Now that it had finally happened and I had lost my
virginity for a second - and maybe third - time, I knew that it no longer
mattered whether it was 'strange' to enjoy adopting a particular type of
feminine sexual role. It was neither right or wrong, it was just how it
was.

All I knew was that I derived the most unbelievable excitement from
being taken by a strong demanding male, teasing and pandering to his wildest
sexual fantasies, then pleasing him and also myself, by acquiescing to his
unleashed lusts. I had always imagined that this was true, and now I had
real experience to back it up.

I had a whole week to plan my appearance for
this next rendezvous. Just enough time for a mail-order purchase to
arrive... or should I stay all-innocent in white, now that I knew how well
it worked? Maybe he'd appreciate my lovely, frilly, maids outfit?...

He
wouldn't know what hit him...