Date: Fri, 30 Oct 2009 02:53:25 -0500
From: Amber Fountaine <amber_fountaine@hotmail.com>
Subject: "John's Journey"

Amber Fountaine stories contain sexually explicit descriptions of
consensual sexual activity and are not suitable for reading by anyone under
the age of 18, or anyone offended by reading such material. These acts
include gay and bisexual activity as well as any combination of piss play,
diapers, cross-dressing and other fetishes and perversions that may please
the author's whims. The characters in these stories are fictional, but are
mostly based on the author's true experiences, as well as the experiences
of others he has met. Every attempt to conceal these identities has been
made. These stories are placed in Nifty for the enjoyment of its readers
and are not to be copied and/or distributed without the approval of the
author.


			     "John's Journey"
			    by Amber Fountaine

	John's journey began at "River Cliff Mall" when he was in high
school in his junior year. Up until the previous semester, John had been
taking gym and had never really paid all that much attention to the cocks
of the other boys. But that afternoon, at the mall restroom, things had
been different.
	John had gone to the men's room to drain his bladder and had never
given a thought to taking the urinal next to the older man. Then at some
point while he'd been pissing, the man made a noise or spoke softly to him
or something and John had glanced in his direction.
	The man was slowly stroking a big, hard, man-sized cock and every
time the man's hand reached the base, pulling the skin tight, the huge cock
head seemed to swell even more and turn dark purple. John had been
mesmerized by the sight and couldn't make himself turn away until the man
had muttered, "Go ahead and feel it."
	"Scared," hadn't been the word for it. John had damn near pissed in
his pants in his hurry to get out of there. But that night, he'd jacked his
own cock thinking about the one he'd seen and wondering what might have
happened if he'd really done as the man said. He'd been pretty sure - no,
positive - that they'd have had some sort of gay sex. He'd known
instinctively that holding that man's big beautiful cock would have led to
putting it in his mouth and sucking it and swallowing the man's cum - all
those nasty, horrible things that he'd heard gay guys did together. And
John wasn't gay.
	He'd told himself that every time he jacked off and thoughts of
that big-headed dick had crept into his mind. He'd told himself that every
time he woke in the morning, his cock hard as a rock, after having had a
dream about some man offering John a cock to play with. Sometimes those
dreams had really upset John; especially when the man in the dream happened
to be his dad or the man next door or one of his friends. Then, a few years
later, he'd had the weirdest dream of all, and things changed in a new
direction. It occurred when John was older, and thanks to the help of one
young lady, had been much more experienced.
	John hadn't been the handsomest of boys and while he'd dated some,
he'd graduated from high school, still a virgin, and hadn't had his first
sexual experience until he'd been in the Army for a couple of years. Her
name had been Crystal - not too pretty and not too bright, but she had a
great body and loved to fuck.
	In some ways, especially for a young man on Private's pay, she was
every man's dream. She didn't care if they went out anywhere or not. She'd
been completely satisfied to stay home and fuck. So that's what John had
done. Every moment that he could get away from post, and she wasn't busy,
he'd gone to her apartment and they'd fucked. The only catch had been - and
it was a small one once he'd gotten past the notion - Crystal wasn't
completely satisfied until after John had eaten her out after they'd
fucked.
	For years prior to meeting Crystal, every time John had thought
about that big-headed cock while jacking off, fantasizing that instead of
running off, he'd had the courage to touch it, hold it, kiss it, put it in
his mouth and suck it, like he was sure the man wanted, he'd wonder about
the taste of cum. So each time his jack-off fantasy was of that big headed
cock, John had told himself that this time, when he shot his cum, he was
going to taste it just to see what it was like. But once he'd shot off and
had a puddle of jism in his palm, those urges had vanished and he'd never
done it. He'd tried tasting his pre-cum, and thought it sort of bland or
tasteless. That big puddle he shot in the palm of his hand was another
issue altogether. Down from his sexual peak after ejaculating, he'd never
gone through with his plan to lick it up. He'd looked at it, tried to work
up the courage, and each time had backed out and wiped his hand clean on a
towel or his underwear instead. But at Crystal's insistence, he'd licked
his cum from her pussy and discovered it was . . . different, but not bad.
       From his point of view, he'd really had little choice, and he liked
the aftertaste, once he'd gotten used to it. That lingering flavor in his
mouth reminded him of Crystal's pussy and that would get him aroused
again. He could even understand her attitude.
       "Guys are so stupid about that," Crystal had told him. "You guys
want me to suck your dicks and swallow your cum, but you guys are afraid to
taste it. If you're afraid, I'll find another boyfriend."
       So John had quickly gotten over his aversion, and soon thought
nothing about it; even beginning to like it - when he was honest with
himself. Still, it hadn't been the sort of thing he'd told his Army buddies
about either. In a relatively short time he had even gotten to where if he
hadn't had sex with Crystal for a few days and needed to jack off, he'd do
it under the covers in the barracks, shoot in his hand, and then lick his
hand clean. It made for a much nicer experience as compared to jacking off
in one of the latrine stalls. What had seemed so difficult to him as a
teen, had become commonplace once the line had been crossed. Then had come
what he referred to as, "The Dream."
       In the dream, he and Crystal had gone to a dance, had gone out to
his car to fuck in the parking lot, and when John had pulled her panties
down to eat her pussy, instead he'd found a cock that looked just like the
one from the mall that had been in so many of his other dreams. He'd
recently told Chrystal about that incident, so thinking she was pulling
some kind of joke on him, John had sucked the cock until it filled his
mouth with cum. That had made John wonder how Crystal had pulled off that
trick, since a fake cock wouldn't be shooting out real cum, and when he'd
looked up at her face, it wasn't Crystal any more, but one of his Army
buddies dressed as a girl. Somehow they'd worked together to fool him and
they'd swapped places. Crystal had still been there, watching through the
car window, and began telling John that she'd always been sure he really
wanted to suck some dick and she'd really done him a favor.
       The cock from the mall had given John years of fantasies and dreams,
but not like the, "Crystal with a Cock," dream had done. Most dreams were
forgotten within minutes of waking up. This one he remembered
vividly. Worse yet, over the next few weeks, the dream had returned and in
various versions. In some, Crystal really had a cock. If he'd suck it and
swallow her cum for her, the cock would disappear and he could fuck her
pussy. In others, he'd pull off Crystal's panties, find a pussy and she'd
tease him about being disappointed that she didn't have a cock. And in the
one's that really bothered him, John was the guy that dressed as a girl and
had sex with another man while Crystal watched.
       Then another incident happened a few weeks later. Crystal had to
work late, again. She'd previously given John a key to her apartment, so
she'd told him to pick up some beer and pizza, and said that when she got
home, she wanted him and the pizza both hot and ready.
       Following her instructions, John had put the beer in the fridge, the
pizza in the oven, and had gotten naked, planning to greet her at the door
that way. Then he'd gone to the bathroom, needing to pee, and had found a
bunch of her lingerie hanging on the curtain rod and towel bars. He'd
looked at the lingerie, looked at himself in the mirror, and as he'd
watched his cock stiffen, he knew what he was going to do. He'd seen
Crystal wear the black lacy panties several times and when he thought about
it, he was sure that the man he'd sucked in the car in his dream had been
wearing an identical pair of panties. Without another thought, John had put
them on and marveled at the feel and fit and the image of himself in the
mirror.
       What John had always liked about the panties was that they were made
of two layers of material. The outer layer was black lace and the inner
layer was shear black nylon. When Crystal wore them and he rubbed her
pussy, the outer layer slid around on the inner layer and for some reason,
they'd both found that exciting. So John had begun to rub his cock the same
way and had found it to be even more exciting. Adding to the tactile
sensation had been the visual image of his hard cock, very visible through
the shear material, as he'd watched in the mirror.
       Then he'd grabbed a yellow nightie off the curtain rod and slipped
into that. It didn't exactly go with the black panties, but it had been the
shortest of the three nighties hanging there and allowed his panty covered
cock to be visible. That had been his goal. He'd fought the urge to jack
off, knowing that Crystal expected him to be ready for sex as soon as she
got home, but he hadn't wanted to take off the lingerie either. So he'd
gone to the kitchen to make sure the oven was warm enough, but not so hot
that it overcooked the pizza, popped the top on a cold beer, and damn near
dropped it when Crystal had asked, "Is that for me?"
       Unable to speak, John had tried to hand her the beer, thinking
that's what she wanted. Instead, she'd grinned even bigger and pointed at
his crotch. Because of the way he was dressed and the thoughts that had
been on his mind, being caught red-handed - or in this case, red-faced -
had caused his mind to stop working. It wasn't until she'd pointed at his
panty covered crotch that he'd realized she was naked.
       Somehow they'd gotten it backward. Normally when they had sex, he
was naked and she'd wear one of her sexy nighties - at least for the first
few minutes. His plan had been to greet her at the door naked and give her
a minute or two to change into one of her nighties. Instead, he'd been so
caught up in his first cross-dressing experience that he hadn't heard her
come in. Then when she'd seen him in the bathroom in her nightgown, she'd
gone in the bedroom and gotten naked. She was naked and he was in the
nightie - backward of the way it usually went.
       "You make a very sexy lady," she'd told him, finally taking the beer
with one hand and using the other to put behind his neck as she kissed him,
hot and heavy. When she'd finally pulled her tongue out of his mouth, she'd
told him, "Glad one of my other boyfriends didn't stop by and catch you
like this. I might have lost both of you."
       He'd long suspected that Crystal saw other men besides him. The one
time he'd tried to question her about it, she'd told him, "I don't talk
about you to other men and I don't talk about other men to you. If you're
not happy with that, don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out."
       So he hadn't commented on her remark, and after taking a couple of
big gulps of the beer, she'd said, "Bedroom time sweetie. I've got a treat
for you."
       She'd spread across the bed, parted her legs, and raised her knees
into the position she enjoyed most when he ate her. But when he'd started
to take off the nightgown she'd stopped him. "You really look cute," she'd
said, "And . . ." She hadn't been able to stop herself from giggling, "It's
appropriate."
       Everything considered, John had realized that he was more turned on
than he'd ever been in his life. So he'd buried his face in her hot wet
pussy and ate her the way she'd told him she liked best. He'd hit all the
right keys, hummed the right tune while sucking her clit, and given her an
awesome orgasm. When they'd cuddled together, a few moments later, she'd
told him, "Damn, you're as good as a girl when you're dressed like
one. I'll have to get you some lingerie of your own."
       "I don't want to wear lingerie," he'd insisted.
       "Are you certain about that? You can't tell me wearing my things
didn't have you excited, and you sure seemed to enjoy the taste of Ed's cum
- even more than usual."
	Again he'd been too shocked to speak. He'd buried his head in her
hair on the pillow so he didn't have to look her in the eye. Ed was her
boss. John had met him, knew he was married, yet had long suspected that
there was something more than work going on between Ed and Crystal. And
he'd tried to ignore the fact that every time Crystal had to work late, she
was always hot and horny and ready for sex as soon as she got off. He also
had ignored the fact that her pussy was always hot and wet and - now that
he'd learned to recognize the flavor - had sort of tasted like cum when he
ate her at those times. He'd written that off to his overactive
imagination, probably caused by that dream about Crystal having a cock.
       Now he knew that for the last few months he'd been eating another
man's cum. It wasn't like he'd really sucked a cock or anything queer like
that, but it was worse - much worse in his opinion - than just licking up
his own cum. Suddenly he'd known that he could never look her boss in the
eye again. And sometime that night, he'd decided that he didn't want to see
Crystal again either. Afterward, on many nights, while jacking off in his
bunk, he'd regretted that decision.

       Almost ten years had passed since then. John had gotten out of the
Army, found a good job as a service rep, had gotten married, fathered a
girl, and a few months back, he had gotten divorced. In that whole time,
there hadn't been a week went by that John hadn't thought about his
dreams. And a few times, he'd had newer versions that were just as wild and
wanton. Sometimes he was dressed as a girl making love to a girl, as he had
with Crystal that one time before they broke up. Other times - more like
most of the time - he was sucking another guy's cock either dressed as a
girl, or the other guy was dressed as a girl. It had been a growing
fantasy.
       In addition, many times in the six years he'd been married, he'd
worn some of his wife Cheryl's lingerie to jack off when she wasn't
home. He'd only done it once in front of her. On their honeymoon, he'd
dressed in one of her panties and nightgowns to surprise her. He'd been
hoping she might like it, as Crystal had, but instead she'd told him it was
disgusting and he'd never done it in front of her again. If she'd known he
was doing it behind her back, she'd never said anything. She'd also thought
it disgusting when he tried to eat her pussy after they'd fucked.
       "I'm not clean," she'd told him. "Why would you want to do that? Are
you queer?"
       He'd assured her he wasn't and never tried that again. Sometimes he
wondered how he'd ever made it through six years.

       For his thirtieth birthday, after years of fantasy and an
unsuccessful marriage, John had made a vow. Fantasy time was
over. Somewhere, somehow, he was going to have sex with a man - and more
than anything, he wanted it to be a man dressed as a woman. He was afraid
that if he tried it the first time with a more masculine appearing man that
he might back out. But the `chick with a dick' idea that had been part of
his dreams and fantasies for years seemed like the best place to start.
       Perhaps he'd had that in mind when he'd taken his current position
that required him to be back out on the road so much. While John was
anxious to cross that line, he took his time, buying a small supply of
lingerie that he could wear as he pleasured himself and day dreamed about
what might happen when he met the right man. For more inspiration, he had a
small but growing collection of she-male porn
       In the meantime, he also pursued women, dating often, and after
several in a row had turned into one-night-stands, he had to admit that
what he'd really been looking for - hoping for - was a guy, dressed so
convincingly as a woman that it had fooled him. In thinking about it
honestly, he realized that most of those women had been larger; women that
most men wouldn't have gone for. He was sure he knew the reason. Not
wanting a totally impersonal tryst with someone he met over the internet,
and not knowing where to find a she-male any other way, he'd been hoping
that one of those masculine appearing women would turn out to be a
man. Then a motel magazine pointed him in the right direction.
       He just happened to notice a story about a "Pride Celebration" and
how as part of the gay festivities, two bars had challenged each other to a
"Drag Race" with guys dressed as women having a foot race in high heels,
running around a local park. John wrote down the name of the two clubs,
pinpointed their locations, and went looking.
       He was sure the first woman he picked up was a guy dressed as a
woman. It wasn't until they were back at his motel, about to get undressed
and climb in bed, that she told him, "I usually don't do guys. I love other
women. But sometimes I want some real dick." That soliloquy had almost
caused John to lose his erection. It was just his luck to pick a lesbian
that liked a little cock now and then.
       The next time he was in the area, he tried the other bar and almost
didn't stay long enough to meet Rhonda. He'd never been in a club that was
so loud. He found a seat at the bar, around the corner and almost up
against the wall. It was as far from the bandstand as he could get. There
was an older man sitting between him and the wall at the end of the
horseshoe bar and that guy didn't stay long either. The club, at least for
that night, had a live band that had taken the old adage, "If you can't
play good, play loud," to a new level. In this case the level was well over
100db. John would have followed the old guy out the door, but he heard the
band say something about one more song and then they'd break and John had
spotted a couple of `girls' that he thought might be men. So he ordered
another drink and made a quick trip to the men's room. When he got back to
the bar, there was a woman sitting where the old guy had been.
       John couldn't believe his luck. This one was even prettier than the
two he'd spotted. Too pretty maybe - he began to wonder is maybe she was a
real woman. Then he noticed she was drinking a beer. Every real woman he'd
ever known drank wine or some kind of fancy drink. So he guessed that `she'
was a guy that still liked his beer, no matter how he was dressed. But
before he could summon the courage to talk to her, the band started back up
and he didn't feel like shouting over it.
	At one point, the band all screamed, strummed their guitars, or
whatever they were doing, and the noise was so deafening that John
winced. In the short moment of comparative silence that followed, he heard
her giggle at him and turned to her. "Not funny," he told her. "They're too
damn loud."  "I agree," she answered before going back to sipping her
beer. Then a few minutes later, she had to almost shout in his ear, "Want
to go somewhere else?"  John had almost laughed, thinking that while this
guy could look gorgeous dressed as a woman, he still drank beer like a man
and picked up guys like he was still a guy. "Where to?"
	She shrugged. "Anywhere that's a little quieter."
	John briefly thought about suggesting his motel room, but instead
mentioned the name of the other bar that he'd visited a couple of weeks
back, getting a smile and nod. Fortunately he knew the town well enough
that he didn't get them lost as she followed him in her car.
	At the other bar, John learned her name was Rhonda, which he was
sure meant that when she wasn't dressed as a woman, he probably went by Ron
or Ronald or something like that. The thought that he was finally going to
make this happen had him incredibly excited and she noticed when she let
her hand drop into his lap. When she felt his hardness, she gave it a
squeeze and whispered in his ear, "I may not be as good as some of your
other lovers, but I love to suck cock if you'd like to give me a try."
	He smiled at the thought that she'd gotten the impression he was a
regular at those gay clubs and was about to tell her, "yes," and that he
wanted to suck hers too, but the waiter interrupted. They both declined
another round, finished what was in front of them, and continued their
conversation in the parking lot.
	As they clung to each other, enjoying the warm summer air and their
even warmer bodies pressed together, John marveled at how lifelike her
breasts felt in his hands. He'd been learning a lot about the guys that
cross-dressed from the internet, as his own assortment of lingerie grew. He
hadn't as yet had the nerve to walk in and buy anything from a retail
store, and had made his purchases online. So he knew that some of the more
lifelike bra pads were expensive. As he continued to grope her tits as they
kissed and made small talk, standing beside his car, he decided he would
find out what kind she'd gotten and where, as he had a growing fantasy of
one day being able to do the things she was doing.
	But that was a long way off, considering he still didn't know for
sure that he'd be able to get over the stigma of another man's cock in his
mouth and enjoy that forbidden act. He'd become aware that girls like
Rhonda liked to call their cocks, "Clitties," or some other cute name and
he was more than ready to see how he did with Rhonda's clitty before he
made plans to dress fully as a woman so he could pick up a man.
	Again he laughed to himself. He was making the same mistake as
Rhonda. He'd have to stop thinking like a man if he went that far. He
wouldn't pick up a man - he'd allow a man to pick him up. Rhonda looked
gorgeous to him, but she still had some work to do in that area.
	"Am I your first fag-hag?" she asked, as they cuddled and cooed and
debated which car or both they should take back to his motel.
	Not being that attuned to the alternative lifestyles, John assumed
"fag-hag" was another nickname for guys that dressed as women to have sex
with men. So he smiled and admitted he was a virgin in that respect.
	"The quicker we get back to your motel, the quicker I can make that
history," she said, rubbing his cock with one hand.
	Again she followed him, neither wanting to leave their cars in the
lot as this was promising to become an all-night - and maybe longer -
affair. It was Friday night, she'd hinted that her weekend was free, and
he'd told her he could stay in town a couple of extra days with no
problem. It was a thought that brought smiles to both of their faces as
they drove the few miles back to where John was staying.
       As before, John was filled with anxiety; eager and yet afraid of the
consequences of what they were about to do. He knew at the moment he was as
sexually aroused as he'd ever been and that he'd have no problem sucking
Rhonda's clitty and looked forward to his first mouthful of cum. He just
had to be sure he didn't let her make him cum first. How he'd feel about it
afterward . . . well he'd just have to wait for afterward to find out. But
at the moment, spending the whole weekend in the sack with a cross-dressed
man seemed like a good idea.
       Rhonda's smile was caused by her assumption that John was a virgin
with women. She hadn't had a virgin since her high school sweetheart, who
was now her ex-husband. Most of the guys she'd met through her ex, or at
the club where he hung out now, were gay, but had tried girls in their
teens, and were willing to give it one more try with her just to be sure
they'd made the right decision. One more try was fine with her. She'd just
wanted to get laid, didn't like macho guys at all, and wasn't looking for
another relationship. But there was something different about John that
she'd picked up on right away. She wondered . . . that cock in his pants
had felt real . . . but could it have been a dildo? Was John really JoAnne
pretending to be a man? Her cousin Emily had taught her how much fun two
girls could have in the sack and there'd been several other girls and women
since then. If John did turn out to be JoAnne . . . well, it would be sort
of a disappointment, but not a huge one. She really did love sucking cock
and the reward of a mouthful of cum, and that she couldn't get from a woman
with a strap-on, but she'd yet to meet a woman with a strap-on that wasn't
willing to give Rhonda all the orgasms she could handle. Men didn't tend to
think that way.
       Once in the room, John tried to get his hand up her dress
immediately after the door shut and she stopped him.
       "You already told me we have plenty of time. Let's enjoy this." Then
she began to slowly undress him. When she found the camisole under his
dress shirt, she wondered again about his being a `JoAnne' and immediately
went for his belt buckle and fly. Seeing the lacy panties almost made her
stop to let John, or JoAnne take the lead, but then she saw that cockhead
peak over the waistband of the panties and the little drop of pre-cum
already forming there, and knew it had to be the real thing. They didn't
make dildos THAT lifelike.
       From the aggressiveness of her actions, John was certain that Rhonda
needed more work on how to act feminine. In the better light of the motel
room, he marveled again at what a beautiful woman Rhonda made when she
dressed enfemme, but again thought about how she seemed too masculine in
her actions and attitude. For a moment he'd thought this cross-dressed man
was going to rape him. She kissed like a woman but thought like a man.
       She interrupted his thoughts to ask, "Do you wear these things all
the time?" Rhonda had him down to just the camisole and panties.
       "Usually just at home. Tonight was the first time I've worn them
out."
       She smiled. "What's the special occasion?"
       He returned her smile and said, "You."
       That earned him a kiss that developed into a passionate
embrace. Considering there was no way he could have known ahead of time
that he'd meet her, she thought that was a very nice thing for him to
say. Then she pushed him back across the bed, hooked the waistband of his
panties behind his balls, and over his protests of wanting to do her first,
proceeded to give him that blow job she'd promised, licking and sucking and
almost missing the first squirt of his jism; he responded so fast. One
thing she'd learned from her ex and his friends was that gay boys - or the
mostly-gay men that she'd been to bed with - like to share their cum. So
instead of swallowing his load, she held it in her mouth and moved up to
kiss him.
       John realized immediately what she'd done as her sperm-coated tongue
dueled with his. Up to now, Chrystal had been the only woman he'd ever
known that would do that, but he imagined that gay guys did it all the
time. And that reminded him of his real reason for being here with Rhonda
in his room.
       While still kissing, John attempted to undress her, pulling her
blouse out of her skirt and reaching behind her to unhook her bra. When she
stopped him, he thought he'd done the wrong thing. He'd done what he would
have done automatically with a real woman, but realized that with Rhonda,
once that bra came off, she would look more like a he than a she. When she
quickly stood up beside the bed, he thought she'd re-hook the bra and maybe
just take off her blouse and skirt.
       Unbuttoning her blouse, she told him, "Better let me do this. I need
to wear this stuff home and you seem to be in a real big rush to lose that
virginity."
       He smiled and nodded and then was amazed when her breasts
appeared. She must be on hormones or something, he thought. "Those look
real," he muttered.
       She laughed. "They are real - what did you expect?" Then before he
could answer, she knew. "Oh shit! You thought I was a guy didn't you. I
should have known when I saw you admiring Bobbi-Lynn and his
friend. Rhonda," she said aloud, speaking to herself, "You are a dumb-ass."
       When he realized she was putting her clothes back on, he jumped up
to stop her. "Wait - please. I don't want you to go. I . . ."
       "What did you mean about being a virgin? She asked, pausing for a
moment. "Have you ever been with a woman?"
       "Not as beautiful as you." In a pleading voice he added, "I'm glad
you're really a woman."
       She looked at him steadily, watching his eyes and facial expressions
and knew he wasn't some slick talking guy trying to say all the right
things. She studied him a moment longer, began to smile, and then broke
into a laugh. "Okay, let's start over. I love the taste of your cum in my
mouth, but I could really use another beer."
       There was a small refrigerator under the sink and John had five
beers out of a six-pack left in it. He flew across the room to get her
one. By the time he got back to her, she'd taken off her blouse, which was
a good sign, but had re-hooked the bra. Then when he handed her the beer,
she took it with one hand and pulled his panties back up over his cock with
the other.
       "Let's put that away for the time being and start from the
beginning."
       He sat on the edge of the bed, and she took the arm chair nearby. He
began to give her a brief outline of his life to date, but with her urging
for detail, she'd finished her beer, even though she was sipping it, before
he finished his narrative.
       The only question she asked when he'd finished was, "Do you still
want to try sucking a she-male dick?" When he nodded, she told him, "I
could use another beer."
       So he got her another and him one too. While he was up, he heard her
leave a message for someone on her cell phone, telling them to call
her. Then she gave him a much shorter version of her life.
       Robert Lynwood Harrison had been her high school sweetheart from the
time they started dating in the 10th grade. She'd known back then that Bob
was different, but she really liked that difference. He wasn't pushy and
trying to get in her pants at every chance like most of the other
boys. Even before they started having sex, she'd known he had a friend in
the neighborhood that swapped blowjobs with him, and that Bob like to dress
up like `Bobbi' when he did it. So when they began having sex, she
encouraged him to wear her clothes and always tried to give Bob the best
blow job possible. "I thought he looked cute in my clothes and I wanted him
to come to me to get his dick sucked and not his friend Tim." Eventually
Tim had faded from Bob's life and she thought that would be the end of it.
       But he'd continued to dress as a girl and she found that to be a lot
of fun. She'd experimented with sex with her cousin Emily and had liked it
and Bob or Bobbi was like having a boyfriend and girlfriend all rolled into
one at the same time. She told John how at their wedding, they'd worn
matching lingerie and that Bob had dressed as Bobbi for most of their
honeymoon. They'd been deliriously happy, like most newlyweds for a few
years, but when she began to press him to start a family, he told her he
didn't want to talk about it just yet. Finally he'd confessed to her that
he'd been having gay sex behind her back for years; even before they'd
married. He'd told her the real reason he didn't want a family was because
he thought he was gay.
       She told John that she'd been hurt by his confession, but then
thought maybe it was something they could share. To her amazement she
discovered that watching her husband sucking cock and getting his ass
plowed really made her hot. For a couple of years, he'd get dressed up on
Friday night, they'd go out with one of their mutual male friends, come
home for a three-some, and then she and Bobbi would fuck all weekend. She
thought it was great, at least at first, but after a while, she realized
she was being cut out. Bobbi would pay all his attention to the other guy
and when the guy went home, Bobbi went back to bed - to sleep.
       So a couple years back, she and Bobbi had gotten an amicable
divorce, had remained friendly, and that since then, Bobbi had set Rhonda
up a few times with his gay friends that wanted to try sex with a woman. It
had gotten Rhonda a reputation as a fag-hag among the gay crowd. "And
that's fine with me," she concluded. "I'm a photographer and often have to
work with male models. Believe me, the gay models are MUCH easier to work
with."
       Then she sat back in her chair and stretched her arms.  Her movement
caused her skirt to ride up and John could see the tops of her stockings
and a garter strap that he thought he'd noticed earlier. He'd toyed with
the idea of getting some for himself, but that was another line to cross
and so far he hadn't pushed himself over it; maybe after this weekend.
       "See something you like?"
       Caught staring, he told her, "Your stockings. They're so much sexier
than pantyhose."
       "Then how come you're not wearing any?"
       He shook his head. "Don't have any." Then he grinned sheepishly and
added, "Yet."
       She stood in front of him, returning his smile. "Take off my skirt
and you can see better."
       Without hesitation, he slid off the bed, dropping to his knees in
front of her. But just as he reached to her waist to loosen her skirt, her
cell phone went off on the table next to him and it was almost as if he'd
set off some sort of security alarm. He jerked his hands back, causing her
to laugh.
       "Phone call silly," she told him. "Would you hand it to me please."
When he did, she said, "Now finish what you started."
       As she began talking, he went back to removing her skirt,
unbuttoning and unzipping and letting it fall to her ankles. As he held it
so she could step out of it, she told whoever she was speaking to, "Just a
second."
       Then she grinned down at him as she stepped out of her skirt and
asked, "Sure you still want to suck your first cock? I can make it happen."
       There was something about the way she'd said, "your first cock,"
that gave him pause. A couple of times he'd speculated to himself as to why
all men didn't try it at least once, and he had concluded it was because
they were afraid they might like it. Rhonda saying "first cock" instead of,
"a cock" must mean that she was certain he'd try it, like it, and want more
in the future. There was only one way to find out for sure, so he nodded
his head to indicate, "Yes."
       Rhonda then began to tell whoever she was talking to that they were
in the La Quinta on West Broadway near the Outer Loop and anticipating her
next question, John used the fingers of one hand to flash her, one, one,
four.  After Rhonda had told the person they were in room 114, and said,
"Bring her too," she hung up and John asked, "Who was that?"
       "Remember the two `girls' you were admiring when we met?"
       He hadn't realized she'd been watching him that close. Nodding
again, he told her, "Yeah, I think so."  "One of them was Bobbi-Lynn, my
ex. And the blonde coming with him is Ginger."
       He was still in position, kneeling at her feet and it seemed like he
could smell the heat of her pussy, only inches from his face. He was torn
between burying his face in her crotch and being a good host. He decided to
let her make the decision. She hadn't said how much time they had before
they'd have company. "There's only a couple of beers left in the
fridge. Should I go next door to the convenience store and get more?"
       She hesitated, then told him, "Yeah, that's probably a good idea. I
didn't think of it. You would pick a place that doesn't have a bar or room
service." Then when he reached for his pants, she asked, "Sure you wouldn't
like to borrow my skirt and blouse?"
       He knew she was just teasing, so he told her, "Not this time."
       "Pretty sure of yourself, huh?"
       He didn't know what he'd said that might give her the impression he
was sure of himself. At that moment he wasn't really sure of anything. "Why
do you say that?"
       "Because you're automatically assuming there'll be a next time."
       "Oh. I didn't mean it that way. But . . ." By then he had his pants
on and she was still standing a few feet away. So he closed the distance
and kissed her again. When they separated, he finished his sentence. "I
really hope there is a next time."
       Rhonda again studied his face, looking at his eyes to see if they
looked away and as best she could tell, he was completely sincere. She
almost felt bad about misleading John. She hadn't lied, but she hadn't been
totally honest either. When telling him about her past, she'd made it sound
as if she'd started dating Bob in high school and they'd been together from
then until they'd divorced. The truth was, they'd never gone steady in high
school. Bob had been just one of many boys she'd dated - and slept
with. Then they'd both gone to the same local community college and it had
been the same there - and more. Bob spent more time as Bobbi, started using
the name Bobbi-Lynn, and often came to school in male clothing and makeup.
       She'd like Bob - loved him in fact - but her friends would get on
her for dating a guy that in their opinion was a swishy fag. They'd
continuously tell Rhonda she could do so much better until Rhonda would
accept their opinion and start seeing other guys. Then she and Bob had both
gone to work after two years of college, and soon after, without her
friends influence, they'd gotten engaged and then married. So while Bob had
been the mainstay of her love life, she'd heard lots of lines from other
men, had learned to spot the ones that lacked sincerity, and was pleased
that John wasn't one of them.
       "Go get the beer and hurry back," she told him, gently pushing him
away before their passion could build to the unstoppable stage. "And if
they have any kind of white wine, Bobbi-Lynne and Ginger were drinking wine
at the club and might want to stay with that." Then she giggled and added,
"And don't worry. They're not used to drinking anything fancy. I like wine
too, but that stuff at the club tastes almost like vinegar to me."
       As John cut across the parking lot to the convenience store, he
concluded that walking out of that motel room, with a woman like Rhonda,
dressed in bra, panties, garter-belt and hose, standing next to his bed and
oozing with sexual need, was definitely the most difficult thing he'd ever
done in his life - and maybe the stupidest. Why, he wondered, as he made
his purchases, was he even thinking about doing anything with a
make-believe woman when he had the sexiest woman he'd ever known apparently
willing to spend the rest of the weekend with him? He chuckled when he
thought about Rhonda calling herself a dumb-ass. Maybe he was the real
dumb-ass of the two of them. But he knew she was looking forward to
watching him suck his first cock. She'd said she loved to watch her ex when
he did that. And the thought that he was going to fulfill a fantasy which
he was sure he'd enjoy, and at the same time bring pleasure to the person
whose cock he'd sucked, AND give pleasure to Rhonda too . . . if there were
such a thing as a win-win-win situation, maybe he'd found it.
       "That didn't take long," she commented as he walked in the room with
his packages.
       "I was in a rush to get back to you."
       There was a twinkle in his eye that told her that this time he was
teasing her. "Uh-huh." She was capable of teasing too. "What you were
really in a rush for was the two pantied pricklets that are on the way. You
were afraid I might get to them first and there wouldn't be any big old
gobs of dick cream for you to drink up. Well not to worry
sweetie. Bobbi-Lynn called just after you left to see if I wanted him to
stop for anything. They . . ." The knock on the door interrupted her. "That
should be them now."
       He was closer, but she moved past him to the door before he had time
to think about it. John wondered briefly what would happen if it wasn't her
ex and his friend and she opened the door dressed as she was, but by then
she had the door open and was ushering the two `girls' inside.
       "This is my friend John," she told them, and then speaking to John
said, "And John, these are my favorite girlfriends in the whole world. The
cute one here is Ginger. For a homo cum slut, she does a pretty good job of
eating pussy. And the ugly one next to her is Bobbi-Lynn."
       Everyone laughed, including Bobbi-Lynn, who commented, "Nice to see
you again too."
       Because Bobbi-Lynn and Rhonda continued to tease each other, Ginger
moved to stand next to John. "I understand this is your first time with a
man, or one of us girls. Are you excited?"
       John wondered for a moment how Ginger could have learned all
that. He didn't recall that Rhonda had said all that much to Bobbi-Lynn on
the phone. Then he remembered that Rhonda had said she'd talked to them
while he was gone. She would have had plenty of time to relate most of what
he'd told her. And of course Bobbi-Lynn would have passed it on to
Ginger. So blushing slightly, he told Ginger, "Yes, it is - I mean I am."
       "Let's see." Even as she said it, Ginger was groping the front of
John's pants. "Not too excited," she commented, as her fingers closed
around her target. "But you're getting there."
       "You two starting without us?" Bobbi-Lynn asked.
       Continuing to fondle John through his slacks, Ginger replied over
her shoulder, "You said we were coming over here to break in a newbie. Why
take all night to get to it when we could be doing it all night."
       John was a little embarrassed to be the center of attention and
still nervous about his first experience, but told her, "I like your
attitude."
       That gave Ginger all the encouragement she needed, if she needed
any, and she undid John's belt and slacks, letting them slide down his
legs. "Oh my! Silkies!"
       "They're not really silk," John explained.
       "I know that silly," Ginger told him. "We all wear nylon and pretend
they're silk. Daphne is the only rich-bitch that can afford real silk."
       John was confused. "Who's Daphne?"
       Rhonda thought she'd better get back into the conversation, since
she'd been the one to put together this impromptu party. "One of their
friends," she explained. "They have a whole group of . . ."
       "A circle of refined and personable ladies," Bobbi-Lynn interjected.
       Rhonda scoffed at that. "Y'all sound more like a gaggle of
geese. You're about as refined as those golden showers you like."
       "That's recycled, not refined," Ginger piped in. "And don't tell me
you didn't like it."
       John may have been inexperienced, but he'd done his homework; at
least when it came to the more unusual aspects of sex. He knew they were
talking about pee play and was amazed that they all seemed to be into
it. He'd read some stories on the internet about people that did that and
he'd thought it was probably all fiction or fantasy. But he wasn't so
startled by this new information that he didn't notice that Ginger had his
cock out of his panties and was stroking it as well as he'd ever done
himself. Then Rhonda stopped her.
       To Ginger, she said, "I had him like that a few minutes ago, so it
wouldn't take much of that to set him off. Aren't you the one that says cum
should never be wasted?" Then, with the two separated for the moment, she
turned to John. "Why don't you help me undress our guests?" Not trusting
Ginger, she pushed John in Bobbi-Lynn's direction as she began to unbutton
Ginger's blouse.
       John suddenly realized that he'd never undressed a woman. He'd
helped his ex with unzipping or unhooking things behind her back, but she'd
never let him do more. So helping Bobbi-Lynn undress was all the more
exciting. Her blouse buttoned in back, so he had her turn around, undid the
buttons, and helped her slip it off, leaving her scarf in place. He thought
it looked sexy that way. He remembered his earlier thoughts, when he'd
tried to help Rhonda and she'd stopped him. He reasoned that Bobbi-Lynn
wouldn't want to remove her bra and left it for her to decide. The hook and
zipper of Bobbi-Lynn's skirt was also in back, so he undid that next, knelt
to help her step out of the skirt, and then felt a new flush of excitement
when Bobbi-Lynn turned to face him and he saw Bobbi-Lynn's cock, fully
swollen and pushed to one side, quite visible through the shear material of
her panties.
       John might have hesitated a moment, seeking a go-ahead from either
Rhonda, who seemed to be in charge, or Bobbi-Lynn, since it was his
cock. But he did neither. Fifteen years of fantasy became reality in less
than a heartbeat. One moment John was staring at the panty-covered cock and
the next it was in his mouth- or most of it anyway. Only then did he pause.
He had about half of Bobbi-Lynn's pretty prick in his mouth, and let it
rest on his tongue while he took a few deep breaths and thought about
it. He'd done it at last. This thing in his mouth was a real, live, hard,
cock. A man's cock - even if it was attached to a man in lingerie.
       But then, he was wearing lingerie too, just as he'd often fantasized
he would be when this momentous occasion happened. There was no turning
back now. He was a cocksucker. The only thing left to do at this point was
suck until he made Bobbi-Lynn cum. And he definitely wanted to experience a
man's cock filling his mouth with cum.  He thought about Crystal, and the
great blow-jobs she'd given him back when he'd been in the Army. They'd
been way better than any other's he'd had. John tried to remember all the
things that Crystal had done that he'd enjoyed so much and did those things
to Bobbi-Lynn. He was concentrating so hard on sucking her cock that it
took a while for the comments of his audience to filter in.
       He heard things like, "You go girl," and, "Suck that dick," and, "Oh
yeah - She sucks like a pro," coming from behind him. He couldn't tell one
voice from the other. Ginger, in her excitement was talking about half an
octave higher, and Rhonda's voice had gotten huskier. The two almost
blended together. He could tell Bobbi-Lynn was getting close and wasn't
surprised when she told him, "Wait a second. You're damn good.  I'd better
sit down."
       John paused long enough for Bobbi-Lynn to sit on the edge of the
chair Rhonda had been sitting in earlier. For the first time he realized
Bobbi-Lynn was wearing stockings and a garter belt almost identical to
Rhonda's. "I've got to get me one of those," he thought as he walked on his
knees to resume his quest for Bobbi-Lynn's cum. Then, just as he was about
to engulf Bobbi-Lynn's dick again, he thought to look back at Rhonda.
       She was still standing next to Ginger and had Ginger's prick out of
her panties. Rhonda had it in her hand, slowly stroking it. "Finish up,"
Rhonda told him. "There's another one waiting for you right here."
       Then, no sooner had he begun again, taking a long slow, lick up the
length of the cock before him, when Rhonda and Ginger knelt on each side of
him, "To see better," Rhonda explained.
       As John's head bobbed on Bobbi-Lynn, John wondered if that was
entirely true or merely, as it seemed, just an excuse. One of the two was
rubbing the front of his panties and without a thought, John reached to put
Ginger's cock in his free hand, caressing it the way he'd seen Rhonda
doing. He had to knock away the hand on his panties to keep from cumming as
Bobbi-Lynn exploded in his mouth, giving him the first taste of cum that
wasn't his own - unless you counted the cum he'd eaten from Crystal's
pussy. That gave him another inspiration.
       As the two she-males swapped positions, John turned to Rhonda and
kissed her passionately. No stranger to that sort of action, Rhonda
returned the kiss with gusto. John had never let go and still had Ginger's
dick in his hand so he knew she was seated and ready for her turn.
       Reluctantly, he broke off the kiss with Rhonda, said softly, "Looks
like it's time to get back to work," and gave the head of Ginger's cock a
kiss too.
       Like he'd done with Bobbi-Lynn, for the first few moments John got
wrought up in the new cock in his mouth, oblivious to the world around
him. Just as his senses had begun to register anything except the prick
between his lips, he heard Rhonda ask her ex where he was going and when he
replied that he needed to pee, John heard her tell him to save it, that she
thought their new sissy might like to try that too. John bobbed and licked
and sucked a moment longer, then pulled off to look at Rhonda, smile and
nod.
       Returning to Ginger's cock, he thought, "Yeah. If Rhonda likes to
drink pee, than I want to try that too. And anything else she might think
is a good idea. When I finish with Ginger, I'm going to fuck her and then
eat out my cum. Maybe she'll pee for me when I do that. That would be
awesome. And maybe tomorrow we can go shopping together."
       Then he thought about her earlier remarks about how she and
Bobbi-Lynn had shared at one time, but eventually Bobbi-Lynn had stopped
doing that. So he put his arm around her shoulders to pull her closer,
pulled off of Ginger's slick, wet, prick, and pointed it at her, the
invitation obvious. He had a suspicion that she'd been intimate with Ginger
in this manner and the way she showed no hesitation proved it to him. Then
he turned to Bobbi-Lynn and told him he was ready to try drinking pee, if
Bobbi-Lynn would allow him.
       Rhonda watched from the corner of her eye, never taking Ginger's
cock from her mouth. She thought John seemed a bit surprised by how quickly
his mouth had filled with pee, but was happy to see that he'd gulped it
down and never hesitated to keep the flow coming. In fact it looked to her
like John had done a much better job of it than she had the first time
she'd tried that. She waited until she was sure he was finished with
Bobbi-Lynn before turning Ginger's cock back to him, then watched as he
eagerly sought Ginger's load, with Bobbi-Lynn's pee still dripping from his
chin. "If that guy gives me at least one good fuck this weekend, without me
having to ask for it," she thought to herself, "I might have to think about
keeping him. And if he goes down on me after we've fucked, I just might
marry him."
       Little did she know, if that was the sum of her criteria, she should
be planning the wedding . . .

Comments appreciated: amber_fountaine@hotmail.com