Date: Thu, 17 Oct 2013 13:11:51 -0400
From: sissi lesli <tvlesli@gmail.com>
Subject: Young Times Pt VI

Young Times Part VI

Hazel Tucker smiles at the camera, Christian's cum dripping from her
outstretched tongue as the film ends and the booth goes black.  My dick is
still only semi hard, so I know I can't just sit in the dark and jack off.
Besides, Hazel's getting fucked has me so hot that I simply have to do the
same, and I open the door and walk out.

To my surprise, Mr Big has moved down the hall and is standing just outside
the booth as I exit.

`Look like you need to get screwed' he says, as his eyes take me in from
head to toe.  He doesn't mean it as a question, but after what James has
told me I'm not going to let him have the upperhand in this conversation –
at least not yet .  I need to establish some ground rules, well at least
one, before this goes any further.  I won't try to kid you, with one
exception, I'll do just about anything a man wants me to in the sexual
department.  That - and I tell my self my looks - is what makes me popular
around town.  But I won't do bareback anal unless I know the guy is clean.
Not just think, but know, so that means the number of people who screw me
without a condom is very, very small.  Mostly married men I know, because
they have a lot at stake and generally take care of themselves.  But I
don't know this guy and I'm not about to take a risk just to please him.

`Um, I do baby, but I need ya to use a little protection, ya know?'

`Ah, I don't go for that raincoat in the shower stuff.  What if I fuck ya
in the ass and cum in your mouth?  That protection enough?'

`Nah baby, precum is a bodily fluid just like cum is.  I've lost too many
friends to AIDS to compromise.  Sorry.  I've got a condom if you're
interested'.

 I could tell he was mulling things over as his eyes kept sweeping from my
hair to my toenails.  Just to help his decision along, I extend my right
arm and let my hand play along the outline of his cock through his jeans.
He has an impressive feeling dick, I would estimate 7-8 inches and fairly
thick if what I'm feeling is any indication of the final state.  I twist my
wrist around and let my fingers play between his legs where I know his
ballsack is confined by the tight `V' of his jeans.

`Alright' he whispers as I rubbed him harder `but I ain't cumming in that
thing.'  I have him now.  In my experience, negotiation can work to my
advantage if I'm firm.  In my younger days I would always cave in, becoming
too submissive too soon.  It took me a few years to realize that a sissy is
nothing more that a girl.  And a girl can be strong.

I lead him into the booth, my hand still grasping his package as he half
turns to latch the door.  Sitting on the bench, my face level with his belt
buckle, I reach up to unbuckle, unsnap, and unzip as he reaches down and
pulls my tee shirt up.  I briefly stop my work and raise both arms so he
can pull my shirt off and keep them raised as he reaches behind me to
unsnap my bra.  Dropping my arms, I shrug out of it and place it on the
bench beside me.

`Stand up' he orders, `I want you naked.  I want to see that body of
yours.'

So I give him a show, standing and pushing my skirt over my hips and down
my legs.  I stoop and step out of it, placing it on the bench.  Then I turn
away from him, bend slightly at the waist and hook my thumbs in the elastic
of my thong.  I work it down my legs until the back strap snaps out from
between the cheeks of my ass.  I keep my penis and testicles covered with
my left hand as I work my thong down til it drops to my ankles and I step
out of it and bend over completely to retrieve it, giving him full view of
my gorgeous ass.

`Jeez' he exclaims ` you've got a killer bod baby.'

`Thank you,' I reply as I turn to face him and see that his hand has gone
to his cock now.  `Let me help you with that.'  And I sit back down, left
hand still covering any trace of my dick, as he pushes his jeans and
underwear down to expose a beautiful, rock hard, cock.  He's at least the 8
inches I had estimated, if not more, and my fingers barely have a chance to
slide down the length of it before his hand on the back of my head is
pulling my mouth toward it.

My lips come open as if triggered by some unseen sensor which also
activates the teeth, jaw, tongue sequence in an effort to fit this thing in
my mouth.  His smell is clean, I guess he could be the Irish Spring guy if
he wanted to, and his cock is tasteless.  It's that clean.  I have no idea
if he's married or not, but he certainly would be a catch for any girl –
in the cleanliness department.  So many of the cocks I suck at the ABS,
especially those of the lower social economic rung of the ladder, are
strong or sour, either the result of poor hygiene in general, or from
having cum earlier in the day.  If I'm hot it doesn't stop me from going
down on them, but guys like this are a treat.

`Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh", he sighs as I get the head and about 2 inches of the
shaft in my mouth, `Motherfucker you have a hot mouth'.

`Mmmmmmf' I manage as then next 2 inches slide past my straining lips.  I
bring my fingers to circle his dick and plant my hand at the base of it,
making sure I have leverage to manipulate the amount of his meat in my
mouth and keep him from impaling me to the point of choking before I'm
ready.  I'm going to take some warming up before my throat is ready to take
this cock head.

But he has other things on his mind, and abruptly pulls out of my mouth.

`Get on the bench' he commands `I wanna fuck ya'.  Again, it's not a
question.  I had hung my handbag on the doorknob and now I fish in it for
the condoms I always carry.  Taking one out, I rip the package open with my
teeth and slide the pre lubed rubber from it.  As I look up at him I can
see the disappointed look on his face but I wasn't going to let either his
or my passion cause me to compromise my sexual health.  Too much at stake.

I place the condom at his dickhead and push back, slowly rolling it in
place.  That was one full condom, and the sight of it caused a twitch in my
dick.  This could turn out to be an outstanding fuck.

`On your knees on the bench' he instructs.

Now I've had a lot of cock in my ass over the years, from Stephen who got
my cherry at band camp when I was all of 15 years old up to last night with
the two cowboys, and the majority of the times I took it the way my partner
wanted it.  True I did prefer the missionary position and I did love to
make out with my man, and watch the expression on his face when he came,
but usually I just followed orders and got on my back or on all fours.  But
one thing I did know from all this experience was that doggy fashion is not
the most comfortable position to take a large cock.  Something about muscle
strain, I had heard, but nevertheless I could vouch for the fact that it
was easier to take a large cock laying on my back with my legs spread and
my knees pulled back toward my head.

And Mr Big is BIG.  And even with my well used used hole and a lubed
rubber, it was going to hurt.  Oh, it'll fit, no problem, but it's stretch
my sphincter past comfortable into hurt.

But I'm too hot, and too in need of his cock in me to protest, so I
willingly kneel on the bench, my head wedged in the corner between the back
and side walls.  Ready for the onslaught.

As prepared as I was, my reaction to the invader back there is a sharp yelp
of pain and an attempt to pull away.  Rather than giving me time to stretch
and adjust, he had simply plunged ahead, his cock forcing my ring to give
way immediately as the nerve endings sent cries of help and pleas to stop
to my brain.  But there was no help on the way and my brain refused to
block out one iota of the pain, as if it was punishing my hole for all
these years of promiscuity.  And, try as I might, I can't come up with a
single thing from my bag of tricks to ease the pain.  I try pushing back,
as if trying to poop, which usually worked to relax my sphincter but that
doesn't make any difference.  The pain is still intolerable.  I try
clenching and unclenching my sphincter, but his cock is so big that all I
can do is unclench, and not much of that.  He has simply stretched my hole
beyond the limit of my muscles to control anything.  I am, for all intents
and purposes, splayed open for him and I'm just going to have to wait out
the pain.

And, as it always does, my insides adjust to the aggressor, the pain starts
to fade just the least bit, and I accept and then embrace the fucking.  I
open to him.  I moan.  I push back to meet him, his pubic hair prickly
against my bare buttocks, his balls slapping my ass on the in stroke.  As
I'm leaning on my left hand to steady myself on the bench, I sneak my right
to my dick, rock hard now, and begin slowly jacking it.

He's pounding me now, taking long strokes that reach deep inside my bowels,
and I'm on sexual fire.  I have nothing on my mind now save this incredible
piece of man meat that's splitting me apart, and as the outstroke brings
the head to the edge of my hole I push back, trying to keep it inside me.
Or, to be more precise, to keep me impaled like a rotisserie chicken.

I'm on sexual auto pilot now, basking in the incredible attention I'm
getting from this cock.  I discovered my purpose in life years ago and this
is it.  I'm providing pleasure to this man and that gives me an incredible
high.  I was made for this.

I'm jerking my had cock now and it's responding.  I can feel the first
drops of precum on my index finger and thumb as they slide over the head in
an increasingly frenzied jack off.

He's buried up to his pubic hairs again and his cock feels like it's in my
stomach.  My balls are roiling with pent up cum needing to be released.

`Oh baby, I'm gonna cum' he exclaims and I feel him pulling out.  My
initial reaction is push back and try to keep him in, but in the back of my
mind I know I'm going to enjoy sucking him off, so I pull forward and his
cock comes out of me with a wet plop as the cool air of the ABS rushes in.
The thermal shock of a hot cock being replaced with cool air causes my
bowels to clinch.

`On your knees bitch' he orders and I comply without thinking, off the
bench and my knees on the cum stained floor.  He rips the condom off and
presents his wet cock to me, grabbing me by the back of my neck and pulling
my head to him.  I open my mouth and take half his cock in one smooth
motion.  My throat isn't pliable enough to take him deep and I don't think
he will last long enough for me to loosen up, but I want his come in my
mouth where I can savor the taste rather than down my throat immediately so
this is good.  My hand goes back to my cock and begins jacking it again.

`Ah...ooooooooh...aaauggg...' he moans as I feel the first spurt of cum hit
the back of my mouth.  The first is followed by a weaker second, and an
even weaker third, and by the fourth it's a dribble.

Ahhhhhhhhh...' he sighs as I continue to milk the dreamy liquid into my
mouth before swallowing it.  It's thick, and the taste is strong and salty,
just the way I like it.  Oh, who am I kidding, there haven't been any that
I haven't liked!

`Ummmmm...baby...that was one fantastic fuck and a great blowjob.  I mean
it' he compliments as I draw the last remnants of his orgasm to me.

`Pleasure's all mine' I reply, not embellishing at all.  I've enjoyed this.

`See ya round' he says as he pulls up his pants and reaches for the door.

`Any time, lover' I reply.  He's out the door now and I'm still kneeling on
the floor jacking off.  Relief comes within seconds and I shoot a thin
stream of cum toward the wall.  One spurt and I'm done, the hormones long
ago reducing my semen flow to a level comparable with early puberty.  .

But the taste of the cum in my mouth, and the ache of my sore sphincter are
my rewards.  I've pleased my man, and in the process I've pleased myself.
I lick the cum off my fingers as I sit on the bench and refocus on the
video, which has reset and is starting again.  `Hazel Does Hollywood', on
of my favorites.

`But Hazel's putting on a little weight in the middle' I think to myself as
run my hands across my flat stomach, proud of the fact that my body is
still in such good shape and that I've managed to stay the same size that I
was all those years ago.  It hasn't always been easy, but the results have
been entirely worth the efforts.

I step into the thong and pull it back up, carefully tucking my wet dick
back in place so the slight buldge doesn't show in front..  I slip my bra,
tee shirt, mini, and sandals back on while contemplating whether or not to
hang around for more.  One of my `superstitions' is what I call `three
dicks', which, in essence, is that I never leave a place after having sex
with three men.  One, two, four, or more are fine, but three is a number I
don't stop at.  You say `strange, superstition', I say that it works for
me.  34 years and no AIDS, well while three dicks is not the answer, it's a
least part of it.  No one knows when the `danger penis' will present
itself, my theory is as solid as all the other bullshit out there!  So,
question now is do I stop with two or go from two more.  I check the time –
I have approximately thirty minutes before I have to be at the hotel- and
decide to think about it.

Opening the door and moving into the hall, I do the `short loop' around
half the arcade.  Seeing no one but James, I decide to call it a morning
and scoot off to work.  By leaving now I have time to make a quick stop at
my apartment and change clothes.  I give James a kiss on the cheek and
promise to tell him about `Mr Big' the next time I see him, bid Stav a good
day, and step out into the sunshine of the day.

I fish my tictac box from the side pocket of my car and pop two in my mouth
and swallow them.  Then I put two more in my mouth and let them melt there,
the mint flavor strong on my tongue and the vapors seeping into my nasal
passages.  I have to smile as I remember Cookie teaching me her four tictac
cure for cum breath some thirty one years ago...

Young Times (the between years) Part VI

My second night on the street was fun.  I began to feel comfortable with
Mandy and Cupcake, who would become like sisters to me over the next few
weeks and who would play such an important role in the transformation of a
young, naοve high school boy into a street wise transvestite street
walker.

And, to my surprise and amazement, that's the thing I would become most
comfortable with.  As my time on the street wore on, I became more and more
aware of my changing attitude toward myself and the situation I found
myself in.  Gone was the disappointment I felt when Cookie brought girls
clothes for me, replaced with the realization that I really didn't mind
wearing them.  In fact, I wished I had worn them a long time before now.
Maybe then I would have realized where I was headed in life.

But I was a work in progress and the total me would still take some time to
develop.  I still had corners to turn and kinks to work out before being
completely at ease with myself.

The way things worked, as I found out this night, was no matter how good of
friends hookers may be, when the johns cruised by, it was every gurl for
herself.  While we stood on the corner talking when things were quiet, as
soon as car lights cut the night, we took up our separate spots on the
street to try and attract business.  Mandy, being senior tonight, stayed
under the light, while Cupcake moved about 20 feet up the block and I moved
about the same down the block.  That gave each car the chance to look at,
talk to, and negotiate with each of us.  I, as the newby, had the least
chance of scoring a trick.  If another tranny joined us tonight, I was
expected to move down the block further.  Seniority meant how long you had
hooked, so I moved down the street quite a bit during many nights.

Apparently, before I came along, Cupcake had been the best looking tranny
of the group.  Even by my novice observations, I knew that even though
Cupcake was what I would learn to be a `passable' tranny, I was a much
better looking one.  So, eventually, my spot on the street meant less and
less as the johns got used to me being there, and some hunted me out no
matter where I was standing.  All of which didn't go over well with some of
the gurls, but Mandy and Cupcake seemed honestly OK with it and that meant
a lot to me.

So, the night wore on and the traffic picked up from nothing to about one
care every half hour.  Some were just drive by voyeurs, but at least one an
hour were serious and took the time to stop.

Over the next few weeks I would learn how this all works.  It took time to
master the swag and vernacular of a streetwalker of course, but with time
it became ingrained.  The drill was fairly simple, if the car stopped in
front of you (in your zone, so to speak), you walked (I walked, most of the
others `strut') up to the window and, depending on which side of the street
they were, either bent in through the passengers window, or stood my the
drivers window and tried to strike up a deal.  Which usually went something
like:

`Hi baby.  That's a nice car (truck, jeep, bike) you got.'

`Um...thanks.  How much?'

`How much for what, baby?'  You never quoted a price or mentioned sex so
you couldn't be busted for solicitation.  Cookie had taught me the basics,
but these trannies had discovered a few variations that were needed to
clear up any misconceptions that might lead to hurt feelings, violence,
etc.  `A blow/handjob/fuck (pick one – or two!) whatever he wanted to
ask for.

`You know I'm a special gurl, doncha baby?'  Get the tranny thing
established up front.  Less likely hood of a violent reaction later on if
and when you're discovered.

`That's what I'm looking for'

`Okay baby, let me see something a cop can't show me' As vice as Vice Cops
can be, they can't expose themselves.  If they do, and then bust you, your
defense is entrapment, and the case will get thrown out.  Not even the most
stupid of novice Vice Cops will fall for that.

So once you see the dick, quote a price, negotiate if you want, you get in
the car.  It's nice to get the money up front, but some guys don't like to
pay until you're done.  Some have, I supposed, had bad experience with
hookers taking the money and splitting.  I've never done that but I'm
flexible and go with what makes him comfortable.  I've never had a problem
getting my money from a john afterward.

If he knows what he's doing, he knows where he wants to take you for sex.
If he doesn't, make sure you have a few safe spots in mind.  A good spot is
fairly close by, secluded from street view, and easy to get out of in case
the cops try to block the car in.  Avoid one way streets, but it that's all
that's available, have him back into it so it's easy to get out of in an
emergency.

Have a whole menu of prices in mind to fit possible situations.  I always
quoted prices for variations starting from lowest to highest – straight
blowjob, undressed blowjob, dressed fuck, undressed fuck, rimjob, etc –
that not only gave him prices but maybe even ideas he didn't think of.
Nothing wrong in `selling up' as they say.

Sex, you would think, would be the easiest part of the whole thing.  I
mean, hadn't I had sex with men and boys for the past 3 going on 4 years?
What could be required that I hadn't already done many times over.  I
wasn't a virgin in any form or stretch of the imagination, both physically
and mentally.  I lived, at times it seemed, for sex.

But this was a different sex and I would come to appreciate the differences
as much as I would come to discover the differences between my former self
of 2 days ago and myself on this second night.  I was a sex object.  I had
been before, to certain men, in certain circumstances.  But now I was a
completely different object.  A mirage of sorts.  I was still, physically,
a male under all these clothes and makeup, but to many of my new johns, I
was a female, at least in appearance, and that's what justified having sex
with me.  If I were dressed in male clothes, they may or may not (most
would not) have sex with me, let alone pay for it, but since I appeared to
be a girl – and since I acted like a girl – that was close enough to
rationalize the whole thing for them.

So I had to make sure that I gave them no cause not to believe their
senses.  And, at the same time, I had to make sure they knew I was a
tranny.

In 1982 Virginia, condoms were optional, usually used for the protection of
the john.  So trannies didn't normally carry them.  Ninety nine percent of
oral sex was raw, and most johns expected trannies to swallow, which was
fine with me (I can't even remember when the last time I spit out semen
was).  Anal sex was a mixed bag, but mostly raw.  Again, fine with me.  Gay
cancer would come later.

Most sex with trannies involved blowjobs.  The illusion of having sex with
a female was much easier sustained with a head of long hair bobbing up and
down in your lap.  If was easier to rationalize for more `straight' guys.

Anal sex involved guys more in touch with and confident in their sexuality.
It took a real man to put his cock in another `man's' ass, no matter how
much the other man resembled a woman.  And those were the kind of me, I
would grow to understand, were the men for me.  A `normal' male-female
relationship, even if it was on the surface only, brought with it many of
the `normal' emotions that befit some degree of `love'.  I would learn to
actually love a few men in my life, and I'm convinced that I've been loved
by just as many.

Homosexuals aren't, usually, attracted to trannies.  Some homos, from time
to time, dress up, but that's an unusual situation and mostly they parody
true transsexuals.

Quite a bit for a 17 year old boy from the sticks to master you say?  Well,
believe it or not, with a little practice it became second nature.  Just
like the role I was playing became second nature, and then I realized it
seemed so simple because it was me.  I didn't understand why, but within
that second night on the street, I lost that 17 year old boy from the small
town and found myself

To be continues
tvlesli@gmail.com.