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A Natural

By: SoftShoulder



Marti's natural talent for motivating people serves her well in her executive position in her family's company. As it turns out, Marti has many natural talents. Having grown up in a wealthy family, Marti has enjoyed the fruits of her heritage. On her parents' estate she has known such luxuries as a swimming pool, a tennis court and a stable. Marti loves the horses and has a favorite one named Dusty which she rides often, usually at dawn or dusk. She loves to ride with someone, and Abe, the overseer of their stables, sometimes joins her on her rides. Since he lives in the quarters above the stables, he is able to accommodate Marti at a moment's notice. Abe is a 30 year old cowboy and a consummate professional. Marti loves to ride Dusty while Abe's cowboy cock bulges deep inside her.

Being somewhat of a natural exhibitionist, Marti occasionally entertains at a private party bar called Shaker's which is owned by an old family friend. A sensual and voluptuous woman of 25, Marti is slender and tall, and her long auburn hair hangs down to her waist which creates a pleasing contrast to her total body tan. Her body has superb muscle tone, every muscle, internally and externally, at its vibrant best. Marti's tongue, nipples, and clit are tastefully pierced. 

She loves for her full breasts to be expertly licked and sucked after having been confined all day. Marti also likes for her pussy to be filled-up with a dildo or some such exquisite toy. Her favorite toy is a six-inch vibrator with a remote switch. Marti has named this piece of hardware, Blueboy, a blue fuck toy, hence the name. She allows her favorite people to flick the switch at their discretion because she thrives on surprises. It brings her much pleasure and is an aid when she does some of her favorite things. She becomes so excited when she knows her cunt is wet and full, and she forces herself to tolerate it for hours. A challenge arises when she wears a skirt and no panties -- sure wouldn't want any accidents! Her sorority sisters would shit, and that might spoil all the nice money Daddy contributed to her mother's sorority, just so little Marti could be socially acceptable.

Sometimes, she surprises her audience with a special treat from her pussy, such as a strand of pearls or grapes and cherries. Naturally, they may insert approved items, preferably edible or battery-operated. Her audience members are always welcome to keep anything they retrieve from her body. Once a long-time family friend arranged for her to wear an oval ring box in her puss for him. His fiancé's engagement ring was in the box. Its implantation and retrieval is a fascinating tale.

The long-time family friend is an old friend of her father. Houston Lennox has known Marti since her birth, and he appreciates her special talents. His fiancé, Cara, is a virgin, and Houston wants her to remain that way until they marry for his own personal reasons. He has introduced her to some sexual pleasures such as oral sex which she enjoys. Actually she loves it, but wonders how Houston would react if he were aware of how much she craves it. He has chosen to meet his young fiancé at the bar on this particular Saturday night for his own pleasure; he wants her to view Marti's handling of her engagement ring. Cara doesn't yet know how much Houston loves to fill up and feel up Marti's natural treasures.

Marti waits for Houston in the bar on this spring afternoon with her pussy stuffed full with a vibrating Blueboy. She can't resist stroking herself while she sits in a booth. She pulls aside her shorts to expose her swollen, stiff clit, which she massages, savoring her sensitivity. She is wearing a tight white t-shirt, high-cut blue-jean shorts and sandals. The contour of her ample breasts is highly visible against the white cotton shirt, and her nipples appear angry, begging for freedom. 

Naturally, Houston decides to stop by his bar early on this Saturday afternoon to supervise the implantation of the engagement ring's soft oval box inside Marti. Houston shows up just in time since Marti is way past being horny. He is a silver-haired, handsome man, 6' 3" tall, and he possesses a prodigious member. Marti longs for the fulfilling pleasure and release that Houston's endowments can provide, and she is prepared for his gifts. As he enters the bar, he speaks to Howie, the bartender. Howie smiles and points toward the booth where Marti is enjoying herself. 

When Houston spots Marti in the booth, he smiles and sees that her head is resting against the back of the booth. Her eyes are closed, and her mouth is open while she raggedly breathes. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what she's doing. Houston feels his cock perk up as he walks toward the booth and stands beside Marti, who senses his presence but doesn't respond. With eyes closed, she continues to stroke herself. The remote switch for Blueboy is on the table, and it is set on medium. Houston leans over Marti and deeply kisses her while he adjusts the setting to high. As Marti's pussy absorbs the quickened pulsations, she sighs into Houston's mouth. He forces his fingers past the shorts, plunging them into her pussy beside Blueboy. This full-pressure within her body is exquisite, and she arches her body and groans as she cums.

"Oooh! I'm cumming so hard! My god – do me now, Houston!" Her eyes are open now, and he continues to maneuver his fingers within her while the vibrator is relentlessly pulsating inside her pussy! "Oh Houston, I need you to fuck me! Get this thing out of me!"

Houston smiles into her beautiful, flushed face. "Yes, my Marti, I'll be fucking you, and Howie will too! You don't have a problem with that, do you, love?"

"Oh, Houston, please just do it, both of you!" She smiles up at him. 

Marti removes his fingers from her pussy and licks them, pushing him away while she stands. She turns so that her back is toward him, and she bends over as she lowers her shorts and steps out of them. The end of Blueboy is shining and twitching inside Marti's rosy-pink pus.

She spreads her legs apart and says, "Be a dear. Turn off Blueboy and take it out of me, please, lover." She remains bent over so both men can get an eyeful of her tempting treasures. Marti is so excited in her exhibition that her body trembles in another orgasm, causing her wetness to dribble down her thighs.

"Take off your shirt, Marti. Howie, get your ass over here, but first lock the door and pull down the shades!" Houston demands.

Howie hurriedly does as requested, and he and his hard-on stand with Houston in front of Marti. She grabs the bottom of her t-shirt, slowly pulling it upward, letting her breasts bounce painfully as they are freed from the shirt. Her silver nipple rings shine against her tanned breasts. She tosses the shirt onto the floor with the jeans. Marti stands tall, naked, and beautiful with her breasts and her bare twat aching for attention. Houston gently cups one breast, and he licks and sucks her right breast while Howie does the same with the left one. Both men fondle her clit and her pussy where the vibrator is still working away. Marti's body trembles, and her legs almost collapse as the result of her orgasm.

"Oooooh God, please! I need a cock inside me now! Do you want me to blow you first, Houston?" 

Tears are falling down her cheeks. She feels her wetness running down her thigh, and she wipes it with her fingers and holds them to Houston's mouth. As he sucks her fingers, he closes his eyes. Both men are about to erupt in their pants. While Houston and Marti are kissing, Howie moves his wet fingers away from her body. He unzips his jeans, and his freed cock explodes onto Marti's leg. Unashamedly, he wipes her leg with a napkin before slumping down in the booth where he watches them.

"Damn, Howie, couldn't you wait?" Houston asks a relieved Howie.

"No, I couldn't stand it any longer. Marti, you're something else! I'll just sit back and enjoy watching you."

"Here, Marti baby doll, climb onto this table, my sweet girl."

Houston watches her sit seductively on the cold table top. Then she lies down on the round table. Marti's body is stretched back, and Houston spreads wide her legs so that her engorged pussy and the end of Blueboy are nearly in his face when he gets on his knees. Easing his hands under her soft butt and raising her lushness before him, he kisses her thigh and teases her clit before he thrusts a finger up her ass. He feels her body spasm on his finger, and she cries out in ecstacy. Houston slowly works the vibrator in and out of her which causes her to continue to cum, her juices leaking out with his movement of the toy. He has never known a woman who can cum like Marti -- she has a gift for it. 

Marti strokes her breasts and cries out, "Ah, I'm cumming again – can't stop – Oh fuck!" With that, Houston pulls out the vibrator and goes down on Marti's pussy, sucking up her juices and thrusting his tongue into her puss. She grinds herself into his face, screaming out in delight! "Houston, fuck me! Baby, Baby! Please, I'm cumming again! This is too good, I want you in me!"

As she writhes on the table, Houston continues to alternate between tonguing her and licking her clit. Marti continues to cum, and he finger fucks her with three fingers, causing her to scream out in pleasure. His face and hand are covered with her wetness.

Houston pulls Marti up to a standing position with her back to him and bends her over the table where she supports herself with her arms. He gently moves her legs far apart, preparing to enter her from behind. He unzips his pants and rubs his enraged cock in her wetness and then plunges into her pulsing pinkness. Her head goes back and she laughs with pure pleasure while tears stream down her face. While she is leaned over, Houston massages her breasts as he fucks her hard and slow. He pinches her sore nipples, and she cries out in painful pleasure. She kisses his hand and takes his fingers into her mouth and sucks them. 

"Oh Houston, you're making me feel so good!" She moans out loud again. 

Howie fondles her nipples, pulling them upward, which sends jets of hot sensations through her body. After he positions himself, he hungrily sucks one of her breasts while he fondles the other.

With a few more hard, deep plunges, Houston's cock erupts deep within Marti's twat. He pushes Howie aside. Houston groans and leans over her, embracing her and squeezing her breasts, while he keeps his cock inside her. "Marti, nobody is like you. Your little cunt is so hot and tight! You're a beautiful woman, my sweet Marti."

His cock slides out of her cunt, and she turns around. She licks and nibbles his lips before she thrusts her tongue into his mouth, deeply kissing him. He tenderly massages her beautiful breasts, and he returns the fervor of her kiss. They wrap their arms around one another, and his manhood comes alive once more. Marti strokes him, and he begins fingering her musky wetness. Howie sits in the booth and watches in amazement, enjoying the aroma of sex.

Marti kneels before Houston, taking his cock in her hands, licking and nipping the head. Then she takes his entire member into her mouth and throat, pleasuring him with her oral talents. She caresses his big balls and inserts a finger into his ass. Howie thrusts his fingers into her puss, finger fucking her while rubbing her ass with his other hand. Marti groans and moves against Howie's hands and fingers, grinding on them. When her moans vibrate on his cock, Houston explodes into her mouth.

Houston caresses her face while their eyes meet, and he cries out, "Marti, swallow me, swallow me!" Marti swallows and sucks the last drop from him. She engulfs his balls in her hot mouth and runs her tongue around them. Afterward, she stands and deeply kisses him as she puts her fingers into her vacant pussy and slips her wet fingers into their mouths while they kiss.

Houston grins at Howie. "Howie, your turn!" He is immediately up to the task.

Houston sits on a stool and prepares to watch. Howie gently pushes her back onto the table, raises her legs over his shoulders, spreading her wide open. He watches her as she stares into his eyes, squeezing her breasts and nipples. He smiles and looks at her swollen, shiny cunt. Then he sucks her clit until Marti cums again, gyrating her pus in his face. "Thank you, Howie! Fuck me, Howie. Now!" 

She guides his cock into her pulsating cunt, and he fucks her hard and fast. Howie can scarcely believe how luxurious her sheath feels around him. 

"Oh! I can't stand it – so good!" She grinds against Howie's pelvis. Houston can't resist and moves into the booth where he kisses her and sucks her nipples. She continues to experience orgasmic spasms which lock around Howie's buried cock. He explodes into her pussy and falls against her, enjoying the feel of her soft body. His spent member slips out of her, and he staggers to a seat. Marti continues to lie on the table as her breathing returns to normal.

"Marti, you're the sexiest woman I've ever seen!" Houston says while he teases her erect nipples.

"Hell, Marti, Cara will be here soon! Come on into the back with me so I can put this inside you for her surprise!" Houston pulls up Marti and leads her to her dressing room in the back.

"Houston, you sure know how to sweet talk a girl!" She laughs and walks with him as he pats her butt and curves his hand under her ass, fingering her moistness. "Sweetie, that's no way to end something! You still want to fuck me when you're married to Cara?" Marti laughs. 

Houston pushes her into her dressing room and thrusts his tongue into her mouth. She sucks his tongue and reaches for his twitching cock. He strokes her nipples and plunges his fingers inside her wet pussy. "Marti, I want to fuck you as long as I live. God, I could live inside you!" 

"Houston, let me grab a quick shower, and I'll be right back, unless you want to wash me." She moves away from him and touches her puss with her fingers and licks them. "Mmmmm, good to the last little cum drop!" 

By then his cock is standing, and she giggles as she undresses him and leads him into the shower stall. Both Marti and Houston's hands lather her body, and her nipples become stiff and long, pointing through the soap bubbles. She lathers his nice body, especially his balls and cock. With her back against his front, she grinds her ass onto his cock. He caresses her butt cheeks while she guides his soapy cock into her puss while they're both slick with soap. Her body arches back against him. "Oh, Houston, how wonderful!" He methodically cleanses her body, and she kisses his face and steps out of the shower.

She dries him off, and he hurriedly dresses. "Marti, you're a breath of fresh air to me. You're a dream! Don't let some son of a bitch tell you otherwise, my sweet girl. I want to be inside you when I die."

She lightly kisses him. "Houston, I'll do anything for you, my lover." She turns around and starts to apply her make-up while she stands before the mirror totally nude and uninhibited. Her breasts protrude high and full, their nipples red and erect. 

Houston kisses her shoulder. "My sweet, you are a beauty." He picks up the soft oval box which holds Cara's engagement ring. "Are you ready for this little box?" He laughs.

She looks at his reflection in the mirror. "Yes, Houston. Come here."

She lies down on the couch, and he pulls her legs far apart so that her lovely pussy can be wide open. He bends down and licks it. He can't help himself -- he teases her clit and plunges his tongue into her cunt – "Oh so tight and juicy wet, Marti." He tenderly pulls apart her pussy's lips and carefully inserts the soft oval box into her. Marti feels it inside her, and it pleases her to know she has a diamond within her innermost parts.

"Will you retrieve the box, or will you let Cara reach inside for it?" She rubs her cunt against his arm, leaving wet streaks.

"I want you to do it. Will you do that gracefully for me, darling?" He lightly runs his fingertips over her breasts.

"Oh, shit! I'll be nice, and play like I'm a virgin – like her!" He sensually kisses her ass. "God, Houston, you're a good man! Get on out there and make sure that my clothes and Blueboy are put away, please, hon."

He leaves Marti to finish her preparations for the evening. When Cara arrives, he sits at the table with her and caresses her face which peeks out of her luxurious brown hair.

Marti applies her make-up and squeezes her vaginal muscles against the soft egg-shaped box inside her. No need to wear anything except her high-heeled red boots over her sheer black thigh highs. She brushes her auburn hair, and she's pleased with her wanton appearance – just what a lot of horny, drunk men like – an easy lay.

Then she eyes Cara and Houston. Marti walks toward them as she runs her hands over her body. The guys in the bar begin to whistle and call out for her. She runs her fingers through her long hair and undulates her hips right before slowly fingering her twat and sucking her finger like a lollipop. She blows kisses to her enthusiastic audience.

She stands beside Cara and thinks that Cara's little breasts look like they belong on a boy. Hell! Then Marti places one exquisitely sinful leg on the table before Cara and Houston so that her pink twat is fully exposed to both of them. She smiles at Houston as she watches his erection grow. Houston places Cara's hand against Marti's pussy and inserts Cara's finger into Marti's wetness. Cara seems excited, and this arouses Houston and Marti, not to mention the other guys who are cheering her on. She moves her finger in and out of Marti. Cara looks up at Marti with a curious expression, and Marti expels the oval box into Cara's hand. Cara curiously looks at the wet oval box. Houston takes the warm box from her, opens it, and places the ring on Cara's finger. Cara thanks and hugs Houston who deeply kisses her while he finger fucks Marti. 

Marti sighs, and Cara opens her eyes to find three of Houston's fingers plunging into Marti's cunt, and she smells Marti's scent. It is very pleasant and a turn-on for her. She reaches up and pulls a nipple ring, causing Marti exquisite torture. 

A young man walks toward Marti and massages her breasts while kissing her. He then unzips his pants and stands behind Marti and rubs his hard cock against her moistness and slowly works his cock into Marti's puckered ass. As he pumps away, Marti fingers her clit and massages his balls and butt, moving her body against him. "Oooh! Baby, that feels good!" Cara continues to watch Houston's vigorous finger fucking of Marti. She frees his hard-on from his pants and gives him a hand job. Shortly, Marti cums, her wetness flowing onto Houston's hand as his finger fucking continues until he cums in Cara's hands. While Marti is cumming, the young man who is fucking her ass cums, jabbing deep into Marti. 

Marti's orgasm intensifies, and she screams out loud, "Oh my God! Oh! Oh! I can't stand it! Fuck my pussy now!

Another man, unbuttoning his jeans on his way to comply with her request, frees his thick cock, already standing at attention. Marti smiles at him. She pushes every one back so she can lie on the table. Cara and the first man stand on either side of Marti and hold her legs spread open.

The second man sucks on her clit and then he plunges his hard cock deep into Marti and fucks her thoroughly. Marti screams as her orgasm tears through her pelvis, and her body goes limp with the warm rush. The man cums deep inside her. He feels as though her smooth sheath is sucking his cock. He withdraws slowly from her and sits on a bar stool where he smiles at her contracting puss. Howie walks to the table and kneels before eating out Marti's cunt, making her cum again. When he is finished, Marti slowly sits up and regains her composure. Her hardened nipples are even longer and stiffer – quite a showing for the guys.


A Natural 'Gurl'



Yes, I know that it has been a few years since I last posted. I was busy. I hope, however, that this new story makes up for the delay. It is in a new category for me, gay male instead of gay female like two of my previous submissions.  

Enjoy!

Debbie, er, sexyR2...

*****

Today...

When the somewhat urgent knocking came to the door, Debbie knew in an instant who that it had to be, Candi had been trained to not dare enter their apartment without permission. Displaying less excitement and desire to see the latest result of her experiment than she actually felt, she casually rose from the table, where she had been perusing the new website, took one last dram of coffee, the better to prepare her for the drama that she knew was coming, and with measured patience casually paced over to the door. Just as she reached for the lock, a second round of knocking, even more urgent and louder than the first interrupted her, although she expected as much.

Through the door, "DEBBIE, PLEASE!"

She was enjoying the calm before the storm for one last moment, thence...

...lock un-click,...

...door knob turn,...

...door open.

She was greeted by the sight of a naked man, no, not the correct word, boy, no, not that either, 'boi', dried cum caked his disheveled shoulder length dishwater blonde hair and piebald splotched his face and chest, down to his hormone grown titties, smeared remnants of pink lip-stick which had previously graced his full pouty lips were present on his chin and cheeks, tears and ruined eye-liner streamed down his effeminate yet currently horribly contorted face. What a shame, Deb felt, her experiment has such a pretty face normally. Maybe she could lighten the situation a little. Hence, Deb smiled sweetly at the 'boi' that stood at her apartment entrance.

"WHY!"

Debbie stood in the doorway, not granting the implied and imploring entreatment for entrance into her apartment and out of his predicament, not yet anyway, letting the predicament build in the mind of the young 'boi'. A thought occurred to her. 'HIS predicament', 'HIS mind', no not a 'HIS', not anymore, not after yesterday and last night, nope, not anymore and never again, for sure.

She scanned the sight in front of her up and down. Dried cum didn't just end with his (there is that 'his' word again, maybe 'her') sissy titties, but rather continued down heaving ribs, across smooth flat toned yet unmuscular stomach, over shaved bald pubes and chemically dysfunctional 'boi clitty', and obviously down sexy sleek smooth tanned inner thighs.

Deb tilted her head slightly, which facilitated her gaze down to the parking lot, one floor below. Along with the somewhat bemused stares of a couple stripper club works coming home from a night shift 'at the office', the apartment complex was adjacent to the local red-light part of town after all, she saw Evan wave out his car window at her as he started to drive off.

Evan! Well, Candi (yes, that was Debbie's name for her experiment) would certainly have enjoyed being used one last time this morning by a stud-muffin hunk like Evan!

The smile returned to Deb's lips as she returned to looking back at Candi. "So, what has your panties all in a wad this morning, sweetie?"

"HOW COULD YOU! WHY! WHY!"

Debbie momentarily closed her eyes in frustration, sighed a deep sigh, thence stared deeply into Candi's eyes, and then "calm yourself down, girlfriend! Take a few deep soothing breadths before you say another thing. You will feel better and think clearer. Okay, lover girl?"

The words 'girlfriend' and 'lover girl', a calculated dig by Debbie, almost send Candi off into another screaming jag, however Candi caught herself and did as she was told. Slower, softer, "W-Why? Why did you DO this to me? Why did you let this happen to me?"

Deb was momentarily concerned that Candi was asking about the whole feminization experiment, now so close to a conclusion: the lingerie; the regular lower body shaving; the cross dressing; the make-up; the long months of training; the hormone shots; and so much other as well. If Candi was asking about that, Deb was going to change the subject, not wanting to lose the results just at the finish line. Recovering, she took control of the situation. "You mean yesterday, last night, all of that, right?"

Candi's calmness made her (yeah, 'her' is now the correct word for Candi, Debbie concluded) predicament come into more focus. She was naked, outside, exposed for all who cared to look, and she had been making a screaming crying spectacle of herself and her obviously violated body. Candi dropped her head, slowly, meekly, "yes, OFCOURSE I mean the pool party, with all those men..." And with more of a moan that actual words, "...and you left me there alone, and with THEM..."

"Did you enjoy it? Did you have fun?"

Candi looked up, imploring, "They took turns fucking me, fucking my ass!"

"But, did you ENJOY it?"

"They made me suck there big cocks!"

Debbie took note of Candi's use of the word "big" in front of "cocks", and tried to hide a knowing smile, "But, did you ENJOY it?"

"...one after another, after another, making me suck from one to another and back again, stroking the cocks on either side..."

"Candi, did you enjoy it?"

Head down again, almost a whisper, "...making me swallow their salty loads..."

Debbie decided to remain quiet for the time being, to let the 'tail' "tell the tale", as it were.

"...pounding hard into my ass, shooting their spunk into my hole, using me over and over..."

A smile crossed Deb's face as the pictures and video of what had occurred she had just enjoyed viewing on the new website passed through her memory, scrumptious in her thoughts.

"...two and three or more at a time! Hour after hour! And the five that were there when we showed up? Four more came later..."

Yes, I know how many were there thought Debbie.

"...and that man, wh-wh-who drove me home this morning, just now, down there, h-he made me suck his big thick man-meat one more time in the car. IN THE CAR! IN THE CAR! PEOPLE COULD HAVE SEEN! ...and, right before he shot, he pressed my head down hard against his prick. It went deep into my throat. And it was so big that I couldn't breathe as he fucked my throat."

Somewhat smirking at Candi's use of the term 'man-meat', Debbie decided to gain a response again. "Candi! DID YOU ENJOY IT?"

Candi's head fell. "W-Why did you leave me? Why did you take me there in the first place? W-Why, for goodness sake, why did you make me wear that skimpy outfit and put on that slutty make-up?"

One word, harshly, "CANDI!"

Silence, the effeminate Candi trembling there at the apartment door, the previously bemused onlookers from a few moments ago, having lost interest in this micro-drama, the sight of even a nude faggot not being all too unfamiliar, had all dispersed. The wave of her emotions having crashed and dissipated on the shore, one last quiet heaving sigh, still looking down, then acceptance, faintly "y-y-yes... I did enjoy it."

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Yesterday...

"NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO! I WON'T GO OUT IN THIS BIKINI!" Candi storming out of the bedroom in a one piece continuous wrap around outfit that started as nothing much more than a G-string, not even large enough to adequately conceal much, made of the thinnest white cotton, attached to white cotton straps that ran between her thighs and up between her naked ass cheeks, then around her hips to join the front straps that rose from the barely there material that was over her mound and from there spun around her midriff and around her back and then around to her front again, to rise to two additional small white cotton covers that widened just enough to cover her easily seen in outline pouty nipples and thickened areolas before once again crossing at the nape and thence to tie behind her neck. She took a determined stance, bare feet, with bright pink painted toenails, at shoulder width, heaving in defiance, fist on sexy naked hips, holding the accompanying 4-inch bright red platform stripper heels in one of those hands.

Deb looked at her. What an erotic sight! Any real man would want to grab and use Candi repeatedly until his lust abated. Long silky smooth shapely bronzed legs cascaded down from that barely hidden equally bronzed torso. Just enough lack of tone that no muscles were outlined on legs or tummy (or arms, for that matter), which gave the image of a weak fragile frame, easily taken if one so wished. Candi's tits were a little disappointing. While the hormone shots had wondrously thickened and lengthened her nipples and areola, now dark reddish brown, from their original pink pin-pricks that were there when Deb had first come up with this feminization plan, the actual bundles of flesh had never really developed beyond tiny B-cups. On top of all, under blonde hair, now tied in pig-tails with pink bows, was 'a face to launch a thousand cocks', full pouty lips, covered in pink glitter gloss, a hint of dark highlight, dark eye-liner, and pink glitter eye-shadow, matching the lip gloss.

Coming back to the moment, Debbie tried to not betray the frustration that she felt at Candi's outburst. In slow measured tone, "Candi, you look absolutely gorgeous in it! Most women would kill to wear something like that to a pool party!"

"BUT I'M NOT A WOMAN! AND YOU KNOW THAT! I'M A MAN! AND WHY DO YOU INSIST ON CALLING ME 'CANDI' ANYWAY? MY NAME IS ALEX!"

Such a drama queen!

"CANDI! You and I have discussed that over and over since I agreed to help you! Alex is such a boring name! A name for a looser, somebody that can never get a date! It's a name of somebody who will never get a girl to go the bed with them, never have sex with them. Remain a virgin his entire life! Just like you were when we first decided that I could help you become cool! Help you eventually have sex, get laid! Alex is plane and boring, correct?"

"BUT, I'M STILL A MAN! CANDI IS A GIRL'S NAME!"

"A man?"

"YES!"

"With tits?"

A pause, and quieter, but still defiant, "well, ... yes!"

"And long hair?"

Quieter still, slightly more hesitantly, "y-yes"

"And smooth curving hips and ass?"

A whisper, "ahm, yes", then with defiance renewed, "but I have a penis!"

"A PENIS! Does it work?" Thence, Debbie went for the juggler, "You are standing there nearly naked in you bikini, here am I, also in a swimsuit" (though nowhere near as daring and provocative as Candi's, although Deb wasn't going to let Candi off the hook). "You have always wanted to fuck me, don't deny it! Well, here we are, alone, what, maybe five feet apart? The object of your lust opened and helpless and nearly naked in front of you. I'll tell you what. Take out what you call your 'penis' and see if you can get it hard? If you can get it up, I will agree that you are a man! Hell, I will even let you hump me!" Rubbing her own crotch with one hand, squeezing at a breast with the other, her hips gyrating, "mmm, baby, I'm so hot, so horny, take me, take me now! Please, my handsome hunk, my stud horse, do me, do me hard and fast! I need it! I need you in me now, now, oh please, now..." Debbie stopped, her arms folding in front of her, "but you can't, can you? That little 'clitty' that you call a 'penis' doesn't work anymore does it?"

"N-n-no."

"And when you masturbate, you have to cow-girl a dildo stuck to the floor, while you stare at pictures of real men's hard cocks. And when you cum doing that, it is a pitiful little dribble from your pitiful little SOFT 'boi clitty', correct?"

Tears welled from Candi's eyes, "but you did this to me. You made me this way."

"Made you? I forced you to wear lingerie? I forced you to shave your body hair? I made you watch gay porn? I held you down and forced you to take hormone shots?"

"N-no", a pause, "but I did it so that I could be with you".

Softer, "And you ARE with me! You are my BFF! My coolest nicest sissy friend, whom I want to be with forever!"

"Really?" Then, wait, what was that about 'sissy', ire built but dispelled just as quickly, acceptance, "yes, we are together..."

"And, just because I don't want to have sex with you, Candi, doesn't mean that I don't want to be around you! All those times that I bring a lover home for a night of good hard grunting and humping, or go to their place for the same, ..., well, all those times are just sex. That's biology! I need a good fuck every once in a while, and seriously, you and I both have known for a long time, as we just demonstrated, that you can't help me there, right? Right?"

Dejection, acceptance, "Right." 

Flippantly, "So, silly girl! I think that your body looks just absolutely fantastic in that suit, and I want you to wear it to the pool party because I want you to wear it to the pool party, simple as that!" A smile, Debbie even made fun of the argument by putting her fist on her hips, mirroring Candi's stance.

Candi smiled, gave an inch further, "but won't the other girls think me silly? Showing up in something this skimpy? They DO know that I'm a guy, cor...", Candi caught herself, adding sadly, "but I'm not a guy, I'm a sissy."

"You are my sexy smoking hot sissy friend!"

"But, won't my pe..., another catch, "my 'boi clitty' show down there?" However, Candi already knew the answer, those hormone shots had all but eliminated her useless testicles and useless pe..., er, 'clitty', allowing them to be pressed and concealed, for all practical purposes, flat into her scrotal sac.

"Silly sissy! Any other girl that is there will be jealous of you, such a hot body in such a skimpy outfit. They will not think twice about what remaining plumbing, indoor or outdoor, that you still have down there. Every other girl that is there will wish that she could entice her boyfriends as much as you in that swimsuit would entice men."

"MEN? THERE AREN'T GOING TO BE MEN THERE, PLEASE SAY NO MEN!"

"Candi? I'm your best friend! You are mine! I only want the best for you! I wouldn't try to hurt you! I want you to enjoy! I want you to be happy! Have fun!" She stepped closer to Candi, poked a finger or two a few times at Candi's ribs, tickling, eliciting giggles. "Okay? Okay?"

Capitulation, never realizing that the question itself remained unanswered.

Not wanting Candi to think the answer through for too long of a time, and not really waiting for Candi to concur, but knowing that she would anyway, "YES! OKAY! Soooooooo, let's see you in the entire outfit."

Candi momentarily had hope that maybe 'he', no 'she', had been mistaken and that there was a further wrap around cover-up or some such to put on, but saw Debbie looking at and nodding toward those stripper heels.

Understanding, Candi dropped them on the floor, kicked them vertical with her feet, then stepped into them, instantly adding definition to her calves, instantly causing her to hold her ass, that scrumptious enticing ass in Debbie's opinion, a little more pronounced, instantly causing her to throw her shoulders back slightly, accentuating her nearly completely exposed breast and those sensitive ever growing areolas and nipples, so incredibly sexy and arousing.

Yes, Deb was sure, Candi would find today oh so very interesting, her hot body all but assuring lust in the minds and loins of the studs that she would soon meet.

With that, Deb grabbed her wrap around, threw it over herself, stepped into her flip-flops, grabbed her keys and told Candi that it was time to go have some fun at the party, hurrying Candi out the door before that unsuspectingly soon to be 'real gurl' could understand why she didn't need a wrap around, why she had to wear 4-inch heels instead of flops, why she was feeling just this side of suspicious...

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Nine Months Ago...

Like all strippers, Debbie knew him as soon as he came in the door, 'fresh pickings'! "Not sure how thick his wallet is, not much by the look of him, but I'll get first dibs, which means I get it all, or most once the club gets a cut!", she thought as she was nearing the finish of her set on stage three of the strip club. Debbie stepped to the front edge of the stage angled her naked body toward the new guy, seductively swaying her hips while staring, as a hungry shark, willfully drawing her prey to the closest table. The other dancers, seeing her intent, left her to her next victim, er, customer...

Alex was fresh past his eighteenth birthday and on his own, when, having just stepped out of the cross country bus station across the street, and seeing this place, he figured that going to one of these places, too innocent to even mentally think of it as 'a strip joint', was what 'guys just did'. And so he walked in. Twenty dollars admittance fee had shocked him, however he was too embarrassed to turn around and run out, so he dutifully handed over nearly a tenth of the money that he had left to his name. The thought of needing every dollar he had for any chance at room and board while he searched for a job never registered in his innocent mind. He sheepishly stepped into the dimly lit (except for the stages), loud with a throbbing beat, and not too crowded room and looked around, not knowing what to really do next, but he saw a naked vision of beauty looking directly at him on one of the side stages, so he stepped in that direction.

Alex sat, waitress arrived, waitress asked, beer came, five more dollars out of his diminishing reserves. All the while, Deb swayed her seductive naked gash and firm mounds in front of Alex's face, lust in her well-studied gaze.

Finally, her set over, Deb plopped her sweaty and still completely nude body down on Alex's lap, legs agape. "Wow, that was exhausting! I'm Britanie! Buy me a drink, my handsome man", more of a command than a question. Her fingers already were toying with the exposed skin above Alex's unkempt shirt neck opening as she seductively licked her lips.

Waitress arrived, waitress asked, soda water with food coloring came, and fifteen more dollars vanished.

Leaning forward, her moist breast pressing against Alex's chest, "Wow, these mixed drinks make my head spin! I probably won't be able to control myself with too many more! Gawd, you make me hot! How would you like a lap dance?" Twenty more dollars gone.

And so it went. Five here, fifteen there, twenty for another bump and grind, again and again.

In short order, when Alex finally said that he was broke, Deb, her hand resting in Alex's lap contrived a fake frown, "Ah, lover hunk, we were having such fun! But, I like you a lot, you are so sexy, you make me so hot, so come back just as soon as you get paid, so that we can have even more fun together, okay?" She kissed his forehead, and bounced up and left the floor without a look back, mentally adding her cut versus the club cut of the proceeds.

Suddenly, a little confused, a little hurt, Alex watched her go. The waitress showed, already knowing the answer, she asked anyway, "Another beer?"

"No, no, I better go." The hint taken. Alex trudged meekly toward the door. Outside, in the light of day, he became aware of a growing void in his stomach, and, just as soon, realized that he had no money. The word 'refrigerator' flashed in his mind and he realized he didn't have a motel room either. And not even money to get back on the bus and head back home, nor even to call home!

"Money!" He turned and looked back at the entrance to the club, somehow knew that he could go back in.

"Job!" He looked around, mainly box shaped buildings with flashing neon signs. No help there, that is where my money went in the first place. An apartment complex, kind of dingy, over there. Not likely that there is anything they can do.

His mind racing now, "Can I steal some? How? Pick pocket? Maybe rob a store? No, I'm not desperate, I won't do that. Not yet."




A Natural 'Gurl'



Then the solution hit him, like a ton of bricks. "That girl! In there! She liked me! She can help me. I just need to wait for her to come out! She will help me. I just need to wait!"

And, so he waited,

...and he waited,

...and he waited,

...and he waited.

Thirst. Sweat. How long until her shift is over?

OH NO, employees don't come and go through the front entrance, she would leave by the back door. He frantically ran around, hoping beyond hope that he hadn't missed her, and he waited some more... 

The day was fading into evening when, suddenly she appeared at the door.

"Hi!" It startled her. She momentarily thought of heading back in the still not completely closed back entrance, finding a bouncer.

"No, please, don't run. I, I, I need, I need help. Please, don't run."

Debbie was a taker, always had been, but there was suddenly something in this boys puppy dog eyes that reached her. She let the door close, with her on the outside with Alex. She knew that she had taken all his money. She knew he was really broke. And, by the looks of him, she knew he was famished and dehydrated, maybe didn't even have a bed. And, she suspected that she was somehow his last hope. Resistance fell, "you don't have a place to stay, do you?"

Sheepishly, "no".

A pause, desperately trying to think of an adequate brush off that wouldn't cause her guilty misgivings in the morning. Finding none, "and you're hungry, ... and thirsty".

This time, a sheepish "yes", eyes downcast.

Debbie acquiesced, but thinking that she would regret this, "fine, okay, come on. You carry this", handing a small duffle bag with her toiletries and a couple smelly dance outfits needing washed in it to young Alex.

She started walking to her apartment in the complex over there, Alex joyously following along. Turning slightly as she walked, glancing over her shoulder, "one night! ONE NIGHT! Then you go get a job and find your own place. Understand? By the way, my real name is Debbie, Britanie is my stage name. Safer that way. You don't snore, do you?"

Alex fell in love.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Yesterday, Reprise...

Deb, as they drove, would occasionally steal glances at the innocent, nearly naked 'gurl' next to her. Candi, of course, knew that Debbie was doing such. Candi had been trained to be constantly aware of her Mistress Debbie (although not required to call her such) and her demands. Yet, while aware of the glances, she could not tell exactly what Debbie was thinking as they drove.

"Your life has changes so much these last few months, Candi, haven't they?"

Girlfriend talk! Candi loved sharing her cares and thoughts, her highs and lows, like this with Debbie. Candi loved her so, had loved her ever since Debbie had rescued her that first awful day in town. She would do anything for Debbie! In fact, she HAD done 'anything', she, as Alex, had allowed herself to be feminized INTO this new self, so much better than what she HAD been all those months ago.

"And all because you knew best, Debbie, you knew what I needed even though I didn't! You've allowed me to blossom..."

Debbie smiled over at her.

"And, you got me my job waitressing at the club. And, you let me stay at your apartment. You even allowed me the honor of paying for the apartment, out of my waitress pay, just to lighten your cares and woes. You are the best, most wonderful friend I know. I love you always and forever."

Debbie, as she usually did, had zoned Candi's words out. Rather, she was thinking of how this experiment of hers had started, months earlier, soon after Alex had all but invited himself into Debbie's life.

Back then, Debbie knew that Alex had loved her, even had sexual feelings for her, ever since those first few lap dances that she had given him, way back then. However, Alex was soon in the 'friend zone', as if he was ever NOT in said zone, as far as Debbie was concerned. Hence, as those first few days that they were roommates stretched to a first few weeks, with Alex always promising to leave 'tomorrow' or 'next week' or 'as soon as I get a paycheck', Debbie became increasingly frustrated, especially knowing that Alex would eventually try to become more to her.

Concerns at the thought of needing to defend herself from Alex turned, over days, into speculations on how to get rid of Alex. Speculations on how to get rid of Alex turned, over days, into frustrations on Alex's clinginess. Frustrations on Alex's clinginess turned, over days, into thoughts on changing Alex's manners. Thoughts on changing Alex's manners, over days, turned into ideas on changing Alex. And so, a plan was born...

Debbie recalled those first tentative steps that had instigated her experiment...

She recalled how she had gotten Alex to admit that he was a virgin and how, in his mind, he should link that to being a looser. She recalled, it turned out correctly, that she could use Alex's desires for intimacy with her and his acceptance that eighteen year old male virginity equaled looser, into him letting her to start changing him 'for the better'...

Baby steps...

She had him agree to grow his hair longer. She had him soon agree to dye it blonde, she wanted platinum blonde, but consented to dishwater blonde when he fussed.

Baby steps...

She had started to change his wardrobe, nothing drastic, he still had to go to his 'guy job', which, at the time, was cash register attending at a nearby fast food place. She had decided to start with his tidy whitey' underwear, telling him all 'real studs' wore no-fly low waste bikini style.

Baby steps...

"Here, let me paint your toenails. I want to see how dayglow this hot pink shade is once it dries! What? NO, nobody else will see."

Baby steps...

"Let's go for pedicures! Wear those new sexy flip-flops I bought you!"

Baby steps...

"You need to stop going to the gym, which is SO yesterday! I want you to start doing yoga instead. We can attend the one I go to. You will be the only stud in the class, all the girls will notice you. Meanwhile, you can maintain your weight by strict dieting. Oh, and soy milk from now on for you, mister..."

Baby steps...

"You know, all the hot guys have pierced ears, and they get all the hot chicks..."

Baby steps...

She soon had Alex daily shaving 'all that ugly hair' off his chest and shoulders 'for the ladies', soon enough after off his genitals 'like all guys that want to get the ladies do', and almost as soon after off his legs, this time so that 'you can feel how wonderful silky sexy nylons felt on your legs', which soon became regular additions to his wardrobe, just as lacy women's thongs, in pink, had become the choice over the earlier low waste men's briefs.

Baby steps...

"No, I am tired of buying you those thongs, you need to go into the ladies lingerie department at that store up at the mall and purchase them yourself! What? On-line? They will never get your size right! You HAVE to go get fitted by the sales girls. So what if they laugh, they don't know how much of a stud you really are, correct?"

Baby steps...

"Alex, you might want to start using this perfume, er, I mean, cologne. Yes, it smells very flowery and girly, but the hot chicks will dig you!"

Baby steps...

"Do you use female deodorant sticks or yucky male deodorant sticks? Well, you start using female ones immediately!"

Baby steps...

"You DO use a loofa, correct? No? No wonder I never see it. I am SO glad that I went ahead and bought you a new one! What? Yes, all the best ones only come in pink."

Baby steps...

"All the hot chicks read magazines such as Allure and Cosmo and Vogue. Guys that read nothing but sports magazines leave chicks cold and distant. If you want to turn the gals on, start studying the articles that they read every month so that they know that you know the real scoop! Don't worry, I will help by quizzing you each article every month! What are friends for?"

Baby steps...

"You know, if you really want to get the hot chicks, like me, you should try experiencing what those hot chicks experience. Try wearing a sexy bra under your clothes. Try wearing frilly nighties when you sleep."

Baby steps...

"To really understand the feminine mind, maybe you should start calling yourself by a new name. Something cute, something delicate, something sweet, THAT'S IT, we will call you Candi from now on! Yes, Alex is no more!"

Baby steps...

"You know, I think that you are really becoming feminine, which I like. Maybe you can start shopping for some cute skirts and blouses to wear, oh, just around the apartment of course."

Baby steps...

"Candi, can you go down to the store and buy me some condoms? Ask for the ones with ridges, the sales clerk with know. What? Don't be silly, your makeup, shorty-shorts, bikini top and heels don't look out of place. And nobody will ever know you aren't a real man. They will just think that maybe you are going to a Halloween party or something. Yes, in May."

Baby steps...

"From now on, I want you to keep a daily journal. And, I want you to write things such as "I want to be pretty", "I want to be feminine", "I want to be a real girl" a minimum of 100 times each day. And say them out loud as you do."

Baby steps...

"There is an opening at the club for a waitress. Of course, you would have to wear a body stocking, pantyhose and a short skirt, show off your sexy legs and girlish figure, oh, and stuff your bra. And, of course, makeup and fix your hair more feminine if you want the job. But, you would be working with me every day. We would be together not just at home but when we had matching shifts! Do you want the job?"

Baby steps...

"I think you need to start embracing your true personality. Maybe you need to go see a doctor friend of mine. He has a series of pills and shots that would do you wonders!"

Baby steps, culminating in today...

"The club girls are all going to go have a pool party! Wanna join? Bikinis only! Sounds like a blast, doesn't it!"

Baby steps, all along the way...

Thinking back, as they drove, with Candi droning on and on about some such girlfriend drama, or some such girlfriend 'she said, the she said' argument, or some such 'they are going to close the club, aren't they' conspiracy, Debbie wondered if all those steps of her experiment had been THAT EASY or was it just 20-20 hindsight. No matter what, today was graduation day, as it were, the day that Candi would either become a full-fledged faggot bimbo slut or would crash all of Debbie's hard work in an instant. 

"...I said, where IS this pool party, Debbie, we have been driving for quite some time!"

Startled back to reality, "oh, ahm, yes, ah, just up the road here, a private house that they rented out. We will be there soon, I promise, girlfriend!"

And, just as promised, they soon arrived at a non-descript house, not too large, but quite a distant from any neighboring house. As she stopped the car, switching it off, "The pool is in the back, let's go!"

Giggling as they went, Debbie and Candi lively walked, bounced actually, up to the front of the house and rang the doorbell. Seconds later, the door opened and Candi's heart nearly stopped as her stomach immediately became queasy.

Grabbing Candi before she fainted, Debbie made the introductions, "Candi, I want you to meet Robert! He's an old good friend and lover of mine and I hope a soon to be new good friend and lover of you. Robert, this is Candi, you've seen her waitressing at the club", and with that she pushed the suddenly desperate 'gurl' into the house.

Robert took Candi by the arm and led her into the next room. There, he introduced Candi to David, Evan, Mitchell and Carl and told them that the entertainment was now arrived.

As the five men surrounded her, their hands already grabbing at her curves, already overpowering her, already taking her clothes off, Candi turned a stunned blank face over one of their shoulders toward Debbie who smiled, mouthed the words 'surprise, have fun', waived, and wheeled around and walked out the front door. The last Candi could hear of Debbie, as they pushed her, now nude, down on her knees, the first of them unsnapping and unzipping their pants and exposing their organs, was the door slam shut.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Today, Reprise...

"I know you did! You had a blast! Like when you were twerking your naked ass all over in front of those studs, you loved being the center of attention, being their cum-whore, being their bimbo slut, sucking their hard pile drivers dry, being humped, satiating their lust, over and over! I know, I saw, just now..."

Candi, still nude, still standing on at the open apartment door, shocked, looked up. "You saw me twerking? You were there? Wh-when, how?"

"Come on, you silly sissy, would I have let you experience your first gang-bang without filming it? I have it all up on the internet already, four separate porn websites, plus a special new one I initiated, all of you and your losing your cherry! You are NOT a virgin anymore! CONGRATS! And to think, you used to be so worried about how to act around real men! Well, my little 'gurl', we have video proof that you can satiate up to nine real men, probably more, to their cocks contentment!"

Again, just as she had almost done the day before, in front of that house, Cadi almost fainted. Deadpan, "I'm nude on the internet? I am seen fucking and sucking all those men?"

"YES! And you are a hit, not exactly viral, not yet at least, but you already have over sixty eight hundred views just on your new website, let alone how many on the four pornsites that I uploaded to."

Candi's brain went blank.

"You are now officially a faggot, no getting around it, and everybody knows it. And those that don't know soon will, I have an agreement to run the video on continuous loop in the front entrance of the club. Everybody walking in will see you as the faggot that you are. Isn't that marvelous! You are outed! No turning back! By the way, in order to get permission to run the video like that, I had to agree that you would now always work completely nude, and let customers and bouncers grab and molest you all they want, while at the club. I know you won't mind, correct?"

Debbie led the nearly catatonic Candi inside and sat her down in front of the computer, "here, watch for yourself..."

"Oh, and while you do, let me tell you about some of the other features that I have, just because I know that you would like them, all for you. See, over here, that is the view count, wow, its closer to seven thousand now, up two hundred since last I looked..."

"And over here, that is a button so men can send you nasty suggestions in your email, it takes one to an emailer program that immediately puts your correct email address, the one with your real name, in the "to" field."

"And, see above the button, I put that you LOVE to have men tell you dirty naughty nasty things to do and that when they did, you would try to record yourself doing them and send the recording back to the man asking for it. Oh, don't worry, we can always post those recordings p here on the videos link for all to see, even the ones not asking."

"Oh, and see what else I said, that you would respond to each and every email that you receive, and not just with a perfunctory 'thankyou' or a 'received', but with a well thought out response about how hot and horny that their suggestions make you ad that you wished that you could suck and be fucked by them."

"And look at that, you already have more than four hundred emails in your inbox. You naughty 'gurl', you are going to be up for a while answering them."

"And, over here, I don't have those two buttons working just yet, but they will allow direct video and direct text so that your viewers can join you directly and tell you what to do as they watch or read." 

"And one more, here is the best part, remember I just said that your real name in in the email address? Well, it is here right on the page, in bold, together with the name of the club and town. That way, if somebody lives nearby and either wants to have a quickie with you, or have an extended abuse of you, they will know how to find you! Same with out of town travelers or cross country truckers that want a fast suck and fuck while passing through."

"I bet a day won't go by without you having to service five, six, maybe seven, maybe more real men's cocks! Isn't your life, you silly 'gurl', going to be fantastic from now on?"



A Natural History Of Desire



Author's note: all characters in this story are well over the age of 18 – including the cat, who slept through the whole thing, any way.

I was saying, "uhh, unhh, ahhh, unhhh, UNHHH."

Meanwhile, Joan was saying, "uh uh uh uh, OOOH, ah, ohh, baby!"

"Oh baby, oh, UHH, unhhh, aghh, uh – uh ," I said. "Oh ahh?! – Ohhhhhhh - I'm gonna come!"

"Oh god, do it lover – UNHHH! - Come on, big boy, give it to me," Joan panted.

"AAAaaaaAAAAAAGGGHHHH!" I yelled, as I ejaculated. I pulled out of her just in time. My spitting cock flung thick strands of pearly sperm all over Joan's hard, sleek belly and her small dark-nippled breasts. She reached up and milked the last big drops of juice out of the tip of my dick, and put her hand to her face, taking the hot jizz into her mouth and eagerly swallowing it. She put her hands to her perfect little breasts, collected more sperm, and ate it. Then she ran her fingers all over her stomach, collecting still more, which she also put in her mouth and greedily gulped down.

"I want every drop," she said, as if I was requiring an explanation.

"I'll make more," I panted. "I'll get busy making more right now."

My penis, having gone semi-limp in the wake of my orgasm, woke up as I took in the sight of my voraciously spunk-hungry girlfriend. It throbbed as blood rushed back into its length, getting harder and longer with each pulse beat. This was not lost on the keen-eyed Joan. 

"I can be late getting back to work," she said, giving my balls a soft squeeze before beginning to jerk me back into full erection. It was fifteen minutes before one in the afternoon. "This time just come in my mouth."

"Whoah, whoah, honey," I cried out. "I have to get back. I have a meeting at two, and I need to get ready."

Joan sighed unhappily and let go of my dick. She stood up, and while reaching for her clothes on the floor, she bent over elaborately giving me the full view of her taut bare backside. Joan was a small woman, a runner with the legs to prove it, hard and sinewy, wide hips and a very firm ass, flat abdomen, very small upturned breasts, dark thick straight hair with streaks of gray that she did not dye at my insistence. Everything about her body gave me a boner, but those streaks of gray hair were the best. I teemed with lust when I stroked her hair, which I did often. Something about those marks of age on a very attractive and otherwise young-looking woman gave me the hots, big time. 

As I contemplated her bent-over figure, I thought, I can change my mind; I can go fuck that ass right now. Just take her and do what I want. I knew her daughter wouldn't be home from school any time soon. And, in fact, I had no meeting that afternoon. I was just in a hurry to get back and email Kirsten to tell her about my lunchtime lovemaking. 

I once read a book in which a womanizing character was almost unable to actually have the illicit sex he was always after because he was so eager to finish and get back to the pub to tell his buddies about it. Sometimes I wondered if that was the case with me. Good old Kirsten – I was forever regaling her with accounts of my sexual capers with Joan, in hopes that she would reciprocate with some hot tales starring herself. She rarely disappointed.

I know, I know - I started this story with a Joan, and now before you know it we have a Kirsten. Who is the story about? The answer: Kirsten. Who is she? She was not Joan's opposite, despite their polar physical differences. Physically, where Joan was small and slender, Kirsten was tall and full-bodied; men of a certain age would call her stacked. Joan's breasts were tiny and delicate; Kirsten's breasts were big and rather, well, active under her blouses. Joan's stomach was flat, very defined, and gorgeous; Kirsten's belly was round, brown, smooth, and gorgeous. Joan wore virtually no makeup and was lovely that way. She would doubtless look lovely with makeup, too. Kirsten was beautifully made up; she used cosmetics with great subtlety, but I happen to know that she looks great with none at all. 

There were somewhat less pronounced and more problematical differences of personality. Joan was quiet; she spoke quietly, and yet she talked too much, and too often too seriously. Kirsten was not quiet, and though she could be serious, was generally much more playful. Joan loved sex. Kirsten looked like sex. Joan was like the shy librarian who might give you a very hot fuck indeed, and after, she would assign you a chapter to read and discuss before you fell asleep. Kirsten just fucked, or so I imagined. 

Of course, the real difference between them was this: I had Joan but I was sure I wanted Kirsten. Joan had me, but insufficiently - she wanted to get married. She always wanted more. Kirsten had a husband, and could have had me, but wanted – what? Such was my situation. Two women were circling planet Carl (that's me, in all my self-centered glory) in crazily elliptical orbits, sometimes far away, sometimes too close, one sometimes close when I wanted her far away, one sometimes far away when I yearned to draw her to me. As I said, Kirsten was married, but only once. Joan was single but twice married in the past. She wanted me to be husband number three. 

"We would make such great children," she told me. Joan and I were the definition of the off and on relationship, in the course of fifteen years being sometimes just friends, sometimes friends with sleepovers allowed, at other times, eager inseparable lovers. 

Kirsten and I had put in eight years worth of flirtatious but ultimately platonic friendship. We met at work. She (I think) initially cultivated my acquaintance because she was a highly competitive company sales rep and I was a company number cruncher. She wanted an inside guy to see that her research requests were given preference in the processing queue. It worked for her. It's amazing what you will suddenly be willing to do when a pretty woman needing a favor asks nicely, and sits in your office with legs crossed and showing a whole lot of smooth, silky bare thigh, and if she leans close to you – having remembered to unbutton an extra blouse button... the sales history spreadsheet she cares so much about magically jumps to the front of the line. Is that wrong? Is it cheesy? Maybe. Probably. But if so, then nature, if possible, got us humans wrong, should have made us more noble, stronger. Did she manipulate me? Not really. We had a mutually beneficial transaction. She did her job well, and I got the pleasure of her attention. She unbuttoned that blouse for ME, bro. It is what it is.

I probably would have helped her out any way, even without the extra inducements, because I liked her. She was worldly, subtle, and sarcastic, and those are personality traits I value. I also don't think the displays of extra flesh were her standard operating procedure, either. I think she liked me. As time passed we became actual friends.

As I mentioned, she was married. Her husband was a guy who loved fishing as much as he loved his fishing boat, and both seemed to come before his wife in his heart. Weekends – he fished. On their vacations they went where fish were and he fished. She watched him fish, I assume. I became the babysitter for their cat when they were on vacation. I was often single, Joan notwithstanding, and so it didn't really matter where I spent my evenings and weekends, at my house or at theirs, with the cat. I liked her cat. It was no big deal. 

I said that our friendship was flirtatious. It was. I was very much attracted to Kirsten, and made it no secret. I thought that, as her friend, it was only right for me to keep her apprised of this, so she could be on her guard. She didn't protect herself from me all that much. I think she liked the attention more than she was made uneasy by my deliberately obvious advances.

"I'm a man," I told her, "I know what rotten behavior I'm capable of. I can have a great time in the sack with a woman I don't even know – with a woman I don't even like – so watch out, because I know you and I like you. If I can fuck you, I will. I'll fuck you first and worry about the consequences later."

"You should have known me when I was single," she told me. 

"Get single," I told her. I felt justified in saying such blunt things as this because all the stories of disappointment she had told me about life with her husband left me little to no doubt that she was not very happily married, and I intended to be first in line for a newly-single Kirsten, should she ever become available. I'm a planner by profession and by inclination; it's what I do. Meanwhile, we flirted. She was a chronic sexual tease with me.

If I missed a day of work, she would tell me something like, "Oh, Carl, yesterday - when you weren't here - I wore a halter-top blouse. The kind you can't wear a bra with. I'm afraid I let a bit too much show."

"And how did that make you feel?" I asked in my best psychologist's manner.

"Like fucking every guy in the office," she coolly replied. 

"Give me a moment, I have to go jerk off about that," I replied. 

"Ooh, I'll come watch," she said in a breathy Marilyn Monroe voice.

"You can help," I told her.

Or, she would tell me that on the weekend while she was swimming laps in her pool, her strapless bikini top slipped down and she was swimming along with her boobs out. "And I was thinking at the time that if you were there you wouldn't have minded a bit if that happened," she told me. 

"Thanks for thinking of me and your boobs at the same time," I said, and I meant it. 

It went on like that all the time. Once I won a bet with her. My prize: I got to pick her work outfits for a week. 

"What should I wear tomorrow?" she asked before the first day of that week.

"A real loose bra under a real tight shirt," I told her, half jokingly. "I need to see you jiggle." And she wore just that. I picked all the stuff she wore that I had seen and liked: the clingy red cotton jersey dress that was just a bit too short for work and stretched so nicely across the cleft of her ass, the ruffly black blouse that was see-through in the right light, her tightest jeans, the snug v-neck sweater that came so very close to providing an inappropriate display of her breasts – although to me it was highly appropriate. And so on. I'll say this for her – she delivered what was promised.

(And let me add, on the subject of flirting, and Kirsten's cat: don't even get me started on all the deliberately dumb pussy jokes she made while referring to her cat. "Do you like my pussy?" and "Let's play with my pussy!" and "Wanna pet my pussy?" and "Isn't my pussy cute?" and on and on and on. Sadly, even this got me hot and bothered.)

I spent a lot of time hot and bothered over Kirsten.

"What about Joan?" she would sometimes ask me, usually when my overtures toward her were becoming maybe a bit too insistent. "Why aren't you happy with her? Your sex life certainly sounds great."

"It's fine," I would say. "She's fine, the sex is fine. It's all the time when we're not having sex, though. She talks things to death, Kirsten. It's why I don't live with her. Ultimately, we aren't compatible. I like to fuck then sleep, or fuck, then eat, or fuck, then go out. And so on. Or do whatever, and then fuck. I mean, sex is important, but when it's over it's over. Move on. She wants to dissect everything. Too much talk can suck the life out of things, sometimes. She's all over me with stuff like 'what were you feeling when...' and on and on until I just want to get up and leave. I bet you wouldn't do that."

"But I'd probably do something else," she said.

"I'd take my chances," I told her.

Those fishing vacations were a real hot-button issue between her and the husband, I think. Students of human behavior would most likely say it was a simple, classic case of the neglected wife, and hey, they'd probably be right. I won't claim it as a unique circumstance. I'm just reporting what happened. But those vacations really seemed to be the focus her sense of dissatisfaction. Sleazily, I benefited from this. I got more attention in those times of her discontent. There would be physical contact. If she came over to my house to watch a movie she would sit very close to me then silently push her head under my shoulder – a childlike action which I found unspeakably adorable - to let me know it was okay to put my arm around her. She would "need" neck and shoulder massages, back massages. I'm a strong man. Big wide mitts for hands. I'm good at massages.

"That feels wonderful," she would tell me as I plied her delectable flesh.

"You feel wonderful," I would tell her. 

These massages took place at my house. "As soon as I leave I bet you'll masturbate," she told me.

"I will," I told her. "My hands will go directly from your skin to my johnson."

"Really?" she would ask, with a lovely smile. 

"Maybe," I told her. She claimed her husband knew about the massages, by the way. Said he didn't mind, at least so I was told. Odd guy. 

She was particularly miffed about the fishing vacation they took in the eighth year of our friendship. I believe there was a marital spat over it. She did not want to go. That time she said she needed a head to toe back massage. The full ramifications of this request became clear to me when she emerged from my bathroom in a towel and laid face down on my bed, unwrapping the towel to reveal herself, wearing only a rather brief pair of white panties, about as small as panties can be without qualifying for full thong-dom. Being a gentleman, I had resolved long ago not to attempt to touch her private parts unless invited.

"So, what are my parameters?" I asked mid-massage as I began rubbing the warmed-up massage oil across the satiny skin of her upper thighs and hips. "What am I forbidden to touch?"

"No penetration – that's your only restriction," she said with a laugh. 

"This is excruciatingly sexual for me, you know," I told her. 

"When we're done I'll leave and you can beat off, dear," she said. 

"Can't I just take a quick break and do it now?" I replied. 

"But what if you come all over me?" she said. 

"Then I'll just have to strip you and wash you off," I answered. 

She laughed. "I'm already stripped, almost," she told me. 

"Or I'll just rub it into your skin," I told her. "I hear sperm's full of vitamins."

"Gosh - maybe I should eat it," she told me.

"Oh, girl, you should," I said. "You definitely should."

All the while I begged, I pleaded, I pointed out the positive health benefits of a complete massage to Kirsten, but she would not turn over and let me work on her front. What can I say? I'm a man; I love tits. All styles welcome. The best I could do was to slather oil on the sides of her large breasts where they were squashed between her ribcage and the bed. So soft, so smooth, so squishy.

"I'm falling deeply in love," I told her, as I kneaded and caressed that heavenly breast flesh.

"Save some massage oil for you," she told me. "Won't you need it for after I leave?"

"Maybe so," I told her.

"Do my shoulders some more," she said. 

"I can't take my hands off your boobs," I said.

"It isn't like your hands are really even on them," she said. "It isn't like you have two big handfuls of my tits - like you wish you had."

"I have to take what I can get," I said. But, I began working on her shoulders. 

After a while, she sighed and arched her back, which raised her rear end off the bed and made it stick up in the air in a very provocative manner. She wiggled her ass at me.

"Fanny again, please," she now said. I went at her bottom. The massage oil had soaked her white panties so that they were essentially transparent, and as they were a sort of semi-thong type any way, not much covered the two round smooth ass cheeks. I grasped each side with my hands and rubbed slow and hard, working the large muscles that lay under all that creamy skin. I so badly wanted to get a good firm hold on her hips, pull that ass to me, and fuck my balls empty in her. I channeled my frustrated desire into how hard and thoroughly I was massaging her beautiful butt. She groaned deeply.

"God that feels good," she said. I worked her backside from the waist down until I reached the backs of her thighs. She adjusted herself so that her legs were spread open wider. I took this as an invitation. Slowly and deliberately, so that she'd have time to stop me if she wanted, I reached deep between her legs and slowly ran the tips of my fingers over her pussy mound, across her clitoris, along the split of her vagina lips, and on up and oh-so-slowly across her anus. I could feel it all through the thin damp panties. She made no attempt to stop me. I really would have stopped if she had. She lay still on the bed, but she was breathing very deeply. 

"You're a naughty boy," she told me. "Now I've got something to go home and remember."

"There's lots more where that came from," I told her.

"It's seven. I have to go," she said. She sat up, holding the towel she had been laying on over her chest, and took a long look at me. "Why Carl, is there a problem with your sweatpants?"

I had had a raging and uncomfortable hard on throughout the hour-long massage. I looked down at the obvious bulge in my sweats, and then looked Kirsten in the eye.

"That's my cock," I said. "It's your cock, whenever you want it." Why be coy?

"If I'm ever single again, I might have to take you up on that," she said. "It looks huge."

It's actually not huge, by the way. 

"Get single," I said, for about the zillionth time since I met her. "Of course, if you get single right now you won't get to go fishing next week - all week long."

I thought it was a strategically good time to remind her that her husband was a jerk and was making her spend her vacation watching him fish – again – which I think was the reason she felt justified and deserving in coming to my house for completely improper and far from innocent massages. I hoped I was strengthening my case for eventually being granted a fuck for crying out loud. But, who ever really knows what evil battles go on between married people. 

At the mention of the fishing trip, her face clouded up in a frown, and her big green eyes narrowed.

"Nice. You had to mention that and ruin my good mood. Fucking fishing. Fucking FISH," she spat out.

Bulls eye, I thought. She got up abruptly, and went into my bathroom. My heart sank as I heard her dressing. Playtime was over. 

"You're still going to babysit Biscuit, right?" she asked from the bathroom. Biscuit was her cat. A nice little dark stripey-style kitty. I didn't mind watching her. She was a nice cat. It was also nice to stay somewhere different. I get tired of my house from time to time, so staying at Kirsten's was a good change. "I'll leave the key under the flower box on the porch like before."

She came out of the bathroom and sat on the edge of my bed. She drew a heavy sigh, looked at me and smiled. I sat down next to her. She laid her head on my shoulder. "Why don't you give massages to Joan?" she asked.

Now, Kirsten's mention of Joan right then may have been a well-aimed poke back at me for my mention of her husband and the dreaded fishing trip. It was as much as her saying, my husband might be a bore and an asshole, but you have a supposedly nice girlfriend – yet here you just spent the afternoon in your bedroom with a nearly-naked married woman, and didn't even get laid. Too-shay, my love, too-shay, I thought. 

"I do give Joan massages - proper massages, back and front," I said, trying to put the tiniest hint of reproach in my voice.

"That's because you're a couple," she told me. 

"Let's you and me become a couple. I've got time to become a couple right now. Joan wouldn't even mind," I said. "Shit, she was going to let me go to some group sex thing with her ex-husband's sister."




A Natural Occurrence in Seclusion



It was a most curious sight to see in the middle of nowhere, Jana decided, but always a pleasure to come upon. Granted, every state in the union had a few of them, but to see one just lying outstretched lazily in the sun so far from where she was accustomed to finding them was both intriguing and a little hilarious. Damn, she thought, are they really becoming that common or am I just not as able to be astonished by them as I grow older?

The seclusion and solitude she had sought out when she made her annual pilgrimage to Desoto Canyon was to her what high-rolling trips to Vegas and high-kid-volume hair-pulling trips to Disney World are for so many- a break from it all. While she had been many places and done many things to take her mind off the daily grind of single parenting and crappy upper management decisions, it ultimately fell to her annual indulgence of the quiet peace of the secluded cabin and awesome abundance of natural beauty that replenished her soul. To get away from it all, one had to escape more than the hometown pitfalls and humdrum.

She had always come in May because of her vacation time being so regimented and dependent on people with more tenure and clout being able to pick and choose their allotment with impunity. She had ridden out a few of the older hands, medical maladies and retirement thinning the ranks of the older co-workers. Firings and new hirings chopped up the tenure list enough for her to state with finality that she would take in the seasonal change in autumn. Any acre of Desoto in September is worthy of a postcard photo or Ansel Adams print and she at last had the opportunity to visit a heavenly spot of earth.

Her son was safely stowed with her parents and the house was secured as well as could be expected. The more pressing of her financial matters were resolved for the month. Her car ran beautifully all the way into northeast Alabama. 

She was completely at ease in the sturdy cabin. It was well furnished with all the necessities. There were pots and pans in the cupboard, a freshly made bed in the bedroom, hot water aplenty, and a huge tub to relax in and allow for quiet leisure and growth of soul. She had bought provisions along the way, stopping at a Food World in Gadsden for canned goods and a few bottles of merlot. Jana was set for seclusion and a peaceful respite.

She had spent the first few days reading, inhaling fully the words of Jackie Collins and Anais Nin, at first. But after a day of alternating looking blissfully out of the window in between text and sips of red, the walls closed in a bit and she decided to take in the views and sights and perhaps shoot a few frames of film. As luck would have it, her quest for life's simple pleasures yielded the most basic and simple of them all.

Desoto Falls was truly awe-inspiring. It sprang up suddenly from the forest, a towering cliff of falling white mist whose roar shrouded the valley below with scattered rainbows and foggy clouds of humidity that completely overwhelmed the senses of any who come to see its grandeur. The kaleidoscope of bright yellows, reds, oranges and greens surrounded the valley with autumn's own swirl of psychedelic inspiration. The granite itself was alive, a hodgepodge of lichen and oddly hued mosses having taken up residence on the rock faces eternally made boggy by the omnipresent misting. The fauna had no fear of man here. The multitude of animals living around the park were not hunted and were in fact a bit tamed by decades of peanuts and half-bitten slices of tomato or lettuce haven been throw out to them by gawking tourists. 

There were a few tourists here and there. She noted a few hardy mountain bikers, hikers, naturalist stoners, stern game wardens, and the occasional van load of kids whose sour expressions led her to believe that all things being equal, the kids found the Gameboys in their laps much more stimulating than some dumb waterfall. Ah, youth.

She spent a great deal of that second day sitting high on the cliff overlooking the falls below her, thinking about things in general and dwelling on nothing in particular. The only interruption to her natural coexistence with the park was one intrusion by her mother explaining that her kid was fine, the house was fine, everything was fine. It was an unnecessary call, really, but she understood her mother's need for checking in and was tickled by her description of the tyke's bumbling and fumbling with sounds and crawling. He would be running circles around the house in no time. Watching a pair of raccoons, one large and one small, dancing around a trash can in search of a morsel, she felt that sense of motherhood strongly. To raise a son alone was always a challenge, but at the end of the day, seeing one's offspring attain just a little step forward into life was its own attribute. She loved him so.

All this and everything else was thrown carefree into the wind when she saw it. It was on her third day in the cabin, a dire sense of boredom having overrun the rustic qualities of seclusion and her need for exposure to the forests taking her on a much-needed hike off the beaten trail. It was a gloomy day, the lack of sun decimating the rainbows and casting a pale shadowy pallor over the valley. The sky's pale grey pallor tempered the fiery bright colors of the valley, as if depressing the natural sense of soul in the flora with a pungent attitude of blasé and melancholy lack of rapture. It was in this doleful mood that the entrance of a man's bright exuberance changed her lack of human touch into a long forgotten sense of need and desire.

"It" was a perfect man. Jana watched the human form from atop a hill, eyeing the stranger as he sat against a large oak, snapping an occasional picture with a long lens that he tossed casually aside as he leaned back against the tree to pick up an acoustic guitar and thumb a few notes. He played the notes low, the windless air denying the sound's travels up the hill in any substantive way and begging her to cock her ear to receive its song. She did not go to him, instead crouching low in a stand of ripening huckleberries and spying as she would observe a skittish animal. He was dressed in a blue pullover of some kind, an Indian style print etched horizontally in faded black across it. A well-worn wide-brimmed hat of leather shielded the eyes and brow but not the full lips and definitive chin denoting good breeding through countless generations. His casual ease of movement was apparent even sitting down; she could see he had a genteel and calm demeanor that was sexy in that he contained the self-confidence to sit alone and unafraid. He wore well-fit jeans as well and a rugged pair of hiking boots. 

She lost track of time and space watching him, as if enthralled as her child would be with a bright noisy toy seen for the first time through infant eyes. There was no sounds apparent to her except the gentle notes of C minor and A sharp occasionally fighting their way up the hill, as if each lick of a string no matter how inappropriate to the desired chord sent a determined soldier of lust floating on humid air up to find her. Nothing in the world mattered to her in that span of time. All thoughts of the world left behind her for so short a time failed to break her rapt attention in the stranger. 

A strange wave of compulsion began to take hold of her, a desire to ravish and pillage a source of virile presentation and to have him firmly clutch her lack of fulfillment left unchecked by so many dicey encounters with men who had just been there and not fully transported her needs into accomplishments. So complete was her attraction to a man whose voice she had never heard that she never heeded the approaching grunts of a large mammal sashaying up her trail. The odds of finding a bear in Alabama were small, but Jana and a large male bruin quickly introduced her to the perfectly unassuming man she coveted.

It was a small black bear, shuffling its nose through the underbrush for a tasty sweet acorn or grub worm. It's eyes were poor and it was as guilty of lack of attention to detail as she for not seeing him approach. The bear was quite used to pillaging the stand of huckleberry bushes along the ridge for a tasty treat without any fear of man. Her quiet crouching and spying immediately gave way to a scream of immense pitch and volume. The bear, used to people's noises, moaned low and menacingly in return. It did not run away, sensing the panic of the woman and determined to have its way with the berries, human be damned. It stood up and its hind legs and gave its reply to her fear in the form of a low growl that only sent another bout of hysterics thundering down the hillside to the stranger's ears. Jana never saw the man toss caution and the Washburn aside, pick up a limb and rock and charge the hill. Her eyes locked on the bruin.

"Hey you sonofabitch! Git' tha' hell outta' here! Hey! Hey! Haaaaay bear! Git on outta' here! Now, you big bastard!"

The wild approach of another human triggered a new level of flight or fight in the bear. It dropped to all fours, unsure whether to listen to reason and run like hell or call the people's bluff and fight for its rightful share of the succulent berries. Its and Jana's eyes locked on the angry face of the fast approaching man, his camera swinging wildly side to side and his deep voice demanded to be heeded. Jana could scarcely believe the speed and power of the man's approach, each long stride fighting to gain uphill ground and succeeding in closing the gap between himself and the threat rapidly. With feline ease he slipped through the underbrush. The bear flinched to its right, grunting loudly to challenge the attacker's resolve. He kept coming, his ferocity and tenacious assault on the bear's position emboldening Jana's adrenaline to pump her full of a previously unknown sense of mettle she had never known. She stomped loudly on the ground and began shaking the shrubbery around her vigorously, taking her own stand against the threat. If a bear's long face could ever personify the phrase, "Fuck this!" it was in this split second before it turned and dashed away, yelping like a puppy and thudding down the hill opposite from the tall man swinging a limb and demanding to be acknowledged. 

Jana stood transfixed and gaping at the chiseled face and wild eyes of the man as he ran past her without even pausing. He continued past her, following the bear's path and continuing to yell obscenities at the fleeing animal. He ran for several hundred yards further down the valley, ultimately flailing the thick limb repeatedly against an elm tree that may or may not have been offended by his assault against its old trunk, depending on one's beliefs in a tree's thoughts. Still not convinced the threat was eradicated, he threw the rock and the limb high and hard into the last patch of foliage in which the bear had been visible. 

Her heart began pounding hard, the adrenaline finally making its presence known completely. The fresh blast of blood rushing into her mind and the glut of oxygen streaming into her veins from her deep breathing made her swoon and she fainted dead away, her last clear thought and vision being a strangers smile turning into concern as she grayed out.

She awoke to the feeling of jostling, the roar of a motor beneath her, and a strap holding her firm against an upright body. Shaking her head and gasping aloud, she realized she had some type of strap around her, securing her to the trunk of a man's body. His back was damp but there was the scent of sweat that was fresh and oily, not yet dank with time. It filled her with the deep aroma of a long-ago application of cologne tempered with the rich scent and masculinity and leather. Her head was resting on a man's shoulder, her arms and legs loose and reaching around him. Her hands were palm down on his lap, inadvertently resting on a firm bulge shielded by blue jean fabric. She sat up abruptly, not completely sure where she was or what in the hell was occurring. Realizing she was on a four-wheeler, she latched onto his chest. The nipples were hard, the chest firm. 

"Hey!" He turned around and stopped the ride. She fidgeted a bit, not afraid but certainly more than curious about just how and why she was tied to him on a four-wheeler. Instantly, the strap released.

"Are you alright?" She cautiously stepped off the four-wheeler, stumbling a few steps at first but composing herself quickly out of embarrassment.

"I think." He looked her up and down. Gone was the wild look or rage that had bore into her psyche, replaced with concern and sincere glee.

"You passed out. I thought you would come around quickly but when you didn't I thought you might be anemic or diabetic or something. The ranger station is just a few klicks farther if you are hurt. My phone ain't gettin' no bars out here."

"No, I'm fine. I think anyway." The last thing she wanted was a trip to a hospital out in the sticks. God knew what her parents would think if they heard she was injured after a bear attack.

"You sure?"

"Yessir. Thanks for doing that back there. I thought that bear had me."

"Naw, not really. Oscar is a big titty baby. He just needed a little persuasion."

"You named him?"

"Shoot no. He's from a zoo. They named him." He chuckled at her puzzlement. "If it had been Brenda Lou and her cub though, things may have been quite different." He grasped at his back, his grip outlining the silhouette of a holstered pistol beneath the pullover. "Things may have gotten intense and tragic. That bitch gets a lil bit moody around the baby."

"Well, thanks anyway." The gun and his seemingly casual nature about the incidence intrigued her. He did not possess a deliberate country twang nor the boorish demeanor of the local redneck flavor. He spoke well, seeming to choose his words carefully and with a deliberate understanding of tact. "I'm Jana, sorry I didn't stay awake to introduce myself." She felt the blushing come up fast to her cheeks.

"Danny," he thrust out a tan hand adorned with a class ring of some kind. "Danny Comeaux." She shook his hand daintily, more interested in feeling his skin's texture than making acquaintance.

"Hello." His eyes danced to her. The grey air still filtered our a great deal of color from their surroundings but his eyes were clearly brown. He had a curiously tiny scar just forward of the hairline near his temple and to her hidden happiness, had all of his teeth in good order. It was his bright exuberance of character that once again captivated her. The memory of staring at him as he lounged content and plucking guitar strings returned to her and washed away any tinge of nervousness she initially felt coming to. There was an aura of manly protection and concern for her, not any deviant vibe that should she felt should upset her. She could not know whether for sure he was telling the truth or not but merely she felt safe and gracious. "I had no idea there were bears here."

"A few years ago, you would have been right. The local sportsmen..." he spat the word "...take great pains to make sure anything they rarely see gets a quick piece of lead. They have been trying to reintroduce bears and wolves in a few places where they have disappeared." 

"You don't hunt?"

"Not bears." He laughed a bit. "They are a bitch to clean. Pardon my Cajun."

"Well, that's the first one I ever saw outside of a zoo and that is about as close to nature as I think I'm going to get this year I hope."

"You definitely got a good look at him. I was waiting for him to get a picture." Oh, Jana thought.

"Sorry to ruin the shot."

"No sweat. He'll be back." He glanced down at his watch. "If you wish, I'll get you back to your cabin. I need to go back for my guitar. You're sure you're okay?"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine. You said we are near the station?" 

"We're closer to the cabins than the station, actually." He pointed toward the east. "Just across that tree line."

"If it's no trouble. I don't mind hiking. It's actually what I was doing when I saw your bear."

"Naw, no trouble. It's better to go ahead and take the ride. I'm not sure where Brenda is and with winter coming up and the cubs getting big, she may take to poking her nose in your way if she thought she smelled you alone."

"She would eat me?!"

"Well, they are used to people feeding them, either through trash cans or outright throwing sandwiches. They get a little pissed when they come up on a person that doesn't chunk 'em a piece of tuna fish. Plus you could stumble up on her and the kids and female bears don't take kindly to strangers around their young."

"Like people, I guess." He cranked up the ATV.

"Occasionally." His face lit up. "You ever driven a four-wheeler?"

"Once."

"Here, have at it." He slid back on the seat. 

"Really? Cool!" She eased onto the vibrating bike and began running her eyes over the controls, eager to look as if she was in control. The ATV jumped and lurched at first, but she figured out the throttle quickly and roared through the woods, turning onto the trails he pointed from behind her. The trees and briar patches roared by, the wind on her face slapping tears from her eyes. He rode silently, obviously unsure of whether he could hold onto her and instead grasping the bar behind him and hanging on for dear life. It was a short ride, the first few empty cabins racing by in a flash. Slowing abruptly, the bike lurched and his grip became untenable, instinct taken over and a panicked passenger's normal motion was to grab the driver. Feeling his broad arms around her midriff, she felt a odd tingle that she dismissed as just girlish notions of lust enhanced by the rumbling motor beneath her. She eased up to her cabin and slowly braked. Finding neutral, she coasted up and stopped at the door.

"Damn that was fun!"

"Glad you liked it." He slid forward on the seat as she got off. 

"I thought you couldn't have these things in the park. You work here or something?"

"Naw, but since that terrorist attack last week the park is empty and the rangers and me are tight. They know I'm not out grassing things up. You know this is the first time I can remember that the cabins are empty in September. You're lucky there aren't too many people here."

"I come up here once a year usually. I love it."

"Where are you from?"

"Jackson, Mississippi. I work at a park in the city."

"Sounds fun. I go through there occasionally on my way back home to visit. I live up in Gatlinburg."

"I've heard it's beautiful up there in the mountains."

"Looks about like here, I guess. I'm gonna' head back down the ridge now." She felt the compulsion to block his path.

"You staying around here? In a cabin?"

"No ma'am. I have a camper I stay in when I'm on a shoot. I travel a lot with my job."

"You're a photographer?"

"More of a writer, but Vanderbilt is sponsoring the bear project in conjunction with the Nashville Zoo and they hired me to come check the guys out."

Don't let him go, girl, she thought. 

"Would you like to have some dinner? I thought some friends I met here were going to come in to see me tonight but they canceled out. I've been bored."

He looked unsure but accepted her offer. "That would be great. I have a camper full of food and I'm a great cook. Anything you want me to bring?"

"Just whatever. I'll whip up something."

"Okay then, seven good?" He shrugged a bit.

"Seven would be great." Jana's heart fluttered a bit. "It's a date."

"It's a date." He smiled earnestly. "See you in a bit..." 

 The ATV roared and in an instant, Danny was just a dull noise echoing from the woods and a great notion of perfection left in her mind. It was four p.m.

By six-thirty, she was in a rush to complete things. Dashing around the cabin's tiny kitchen, she forced herself to calm down and finalize things. Normally a demure woman, she was filled with an enhanced sense of desire and expectation that flustered her unexpectedly. She had showered up and cursed herself for not packing something just a tad bit provocative than a pair of jeans and a blouse that she tied up across the belly and shaped to accentuate her breasts. Her hair was fixed well, curled and stacked up with a slight bit of curls dangling over each ear to frame her face. She applied make-up well and fixed her face up well, determined to make a much more enthusiastic second impression on Danny than her first had been. Her legs were shaved, including a light tidying up of the pubic area. No detail too small.




A Natural Sissy



 Author's note: This is a story about a woman turning a man into a compliant, sissified plaything. If that idea doesn't appeal to you, don't read the story. If you like the idea, read on, and don't forget to vote and leave a comment. More will be added if comments from readers justifies it. 

A Natural Sissy – Ch. 01

Stacy is a natural sissy. I knew it the first time I laid eyes on him when he came to visit at my request on an Internet forum. After 3 months of Internet chat, I was ready to implement my plan. I knew he had money. He inherited most of it from his parents when they died in horrible automobile accident a few years ago. I knew he was well educated, too, with a doctorate in electronics, but he was retired now that he was rich. He drove six hours to get to my home from his. When he knocked on my door he had two dozen roses behind his back, and when I opened the door to let him in, he stuttered his name, and brought the roses from behind him to hand them to me.

"Hello, Gail. I'm... I'm... St... Sta... Stacy. I brought you some roses." He looked concerned that I might not like roses.

"Well, thank you, Stacy. The roses are lovely. Please come in." I took the offered roses, filled a vase with water, and placed them on the bookcase at the far wall of my living room. "Would you like some wine? Or a beer?"

"Uh... thank you. Wine is good."

"Coming right up." I brought out a bottle of Chablis and poured two flutes, handing him one as I sat beside him on the sofa. I purposely sat so that my thigh brushed against his, and I put my hand on his leg just above the knee. I could see that he was quite nervous, and I hoped the wine would settle him a bit. You can't train a skittish horse, and you can't train a skittish man, either. As we continued our conversation, I continued to refill his wine flute, while nursing my own with small sips to avoid getting high myself. My object was to seduce the poor widower of two years who probably hadn't had sex since his wife's death. At 46, he was twenty years my senior, just the way I like my boi toys.

His build was almost exactly what I had expected from information gathered  during our Internet chats. At six feet tall and weighing about 155 pounds, he was slender, and I noticed he had very little stubble on his face, so I expected to see only a minimum of body hair. He was taller than my 5 feet 5 inches, and heavier by 50 pounds, but that wouldn't be a problem. He'd be perfect for what I had in mind. It was going to be fun turning him into a plaything for my friends and me.

We continued to talk, about everything and nothing, and I inserted some seemingly innocuous questions to gain more information without appearing to. After several flutes of wine he began slurring words, so it was time to set my plan into motion.

I began stroking his thigh, moving higher and closer to his crotch as I continued our conversation. I could see that his cock was growing, and from the bulge it appeared that he was well hung. Even better than I expected. A sissy with a large cock had advantages not inherent in a minimally endowed boi toy.

"Are you tired from the drive down from Atlanta?" 

"I think the wine is making me sleepy, Gail. I'm sorry to be such a dullard."

"Oh, you're not dull, Stacy. I find you quite the opposite." Yeah, right. But that would change. "Why don't we go to the bedroom, and you can lie down and rest a bit. We have time before we go for dinner." I stood and took his hand, pulling him up beside me.

He followed me like the puppy he would become as I pulled him along toward the bedroom. I stood him beside the king size bed and faced him. "Let me just get your shirt off so it won't wrinkle, okay?"

"Okay..."

I took his shirt, and placed it over a nearby occasional chair, and went back. "Now, just sit on the bed and let me get those shoes off for you." He didn't object as he sat. When his shoes and socks were off and shoved under the bed, I unbuckled his belt, told him to rise up a bit so I could pull his slacks off, he sleepily complied. I put them with his shirt and then pushed him onto his back on the bed. 

"Just close your eyes now and have a little nap. I'll wake you in time to get ready for dinner." 

I watched for a moment before shedding my sundress and shoes. He blinked. So, he was watching as I took a place beside him on the bed. I saw his cock throbbing. Just what I wanted, without even trying. He closed his eyes again, pretending to sleep.

So there he was in t-shirt and boxer shorts, and I was down to my 32C bra and matching bikini panties. I put my hand through the fly of his boxers and found his still growing cock. I pulled it through the opening and took it in my mouth, sucking gently on the tip while I jacked the staff slowly. His eyes flew open as he lifted his hips trying to put more of his cock in my moist, warm mouth. I put a hand on his stomach and pushed his hips back down as I took more and more of his now fully erect cock to the back of my mouth, just grazing my throat. There was still three inches to go. Wonderful. This was going to be even better that I had hoped for. 

When I was beginning to moisten in my vaginal cannel, I pulled away from his cock with a loud 'plop'. He wasn't sleepy anymore. I straddled him, facing the headboard, sank my pussy down on his throbbing cock, and rode him like that for thirty minutes or so, admonishing him not to cum until I said he could. Step one in his training as a boi toy. Obey your superiors, who would be any female, of course. And any male who weren't a sissy, and maybe a few who were. We'd establish that pecker... er, pecking order as the training progressed.

After bringing myself to three orgasms I decided to let him spurt. "Okay, Stacy, you can cum now, if you're ready." The last word was barely out of my mouth when I felt him convulse and send a series of roped cum deep inside my pussy. I leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "Good boi." I'm sure he heard "Good boy," not "Good boi," but he would soon learn.

When we recovered, I headed for the shower, pulling Stacy along behind by his wilting cock. We showered together, and under my tutelage he learned to bathe me properly as a good boi toy should.

We dined that evening at an upscale Italian place I liked, at Stacy's expense, of course, and by the time we returned to my house; Stacy was committed to selling his house in Atlanta, and moving in with me. Little did he know what that meant.

But three months later he began to understand. He sold his house in Atlanta, moved in with me, where he follows me around like the good bimbo puppy he is going to be, hoping I'll let him fuck me again. And I just may, as a reward, if he trains well. He does have a nice cock. But for now it's just teasing and training, and learning how to put on his makeup properly. He's doing well in selecting his lingerie and feminine outerwear when we go out for parties and such. He's down to one day a month dressing as a male now, and that will cease very, very soon. As soon as the hormones make his breasts too large to hide. They're coming up on 38B now. I catch him fondling them occasionally.

"Stacy! Where are you? It's time to dress for dinner." When I walked into his bedroom, I found him already at the vanity applying eyeliner. He had his lingerie on already, and I must say it is as feminine as any I've ever seen. The lavender bra was lacy with an open nipple design, and his pierced nipples were as visible as his erect cock, with its little gold ring at the base just where it joins the ball sac. The matching open crotch panties allowed attaching a leash to the ring when I wanted to lead him along behind me. His garter belt held his lavender stockings ended in purple patent pumps with four-inch stiletto heels. I guess the only thing not ultra feminine was his hair. I kept it cut in a man's short, almost crew, cut just so he and anyone else would no he was not a woman, but a sissy.

"I'm getting ready, Gail. I won't be much longer." 

I was dressed to the nines in a smart sequined cocktail dress with a hemline just long enough to hide my ass cheeks. Stacy's was only inches longer, but he looked sexy as hell with the open nipple bra showing through the gauze bodice of his almost skin tight strapless sheath. His dress was of course pink, the mandatory color for introducing a sissy to your friends. I suppressed a smile as I gazed at the earrings dangling nearly to his shoulders, the turquoise and silver contrasting, and catching the light just as I had hoped. And it matched his silver and turquoise choker necklace perfectly. The sterling chain suspended from nipple to nipple added to the boi toy image I was going for tonight. I had told him to go heavy on his makeup, because everyone at the party tonight would do the same. 

I would wait until we were at the party before feeding him a couple of Viagra tablets to assure that his cock would lift his dress enough to be noticeable.

I put him in the passenger seat of his fully loaded, top-of-the-line Mercedes and we were off. "You'll love this party, Stacy. All of my friends will be there, and I'll introduce you to those you haven't yet met."

"I'm sure it will be nice," he answered with a bit of trepidation in his voice. I suppose that was to be expected of a sissy about to be exposed to the world for the first time. At least it was with my other four bio toys.

I made a mental note to give him a GHB along with the Viagra to assure that he was compliant once we were there. He would know what it was, of course, because I used it extensively during his training to keep him agreeable to the things I was doing to him. But there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

"Oh, believe me, Stacy, you will absolutely love it."

He was silent. I could almost see the wheels turning in his mind. I let it go. Ten minutes later I handed the car keys to the valet with a caution to park the Mercedes in a safe spot away from other vehicles to avoid small dents caused by careless people. I emphasized my instructions with a fifty-dollar bill from Stacy's evening purse.

We walked side by side under the plush canopy covering the entrance to the club. Stacy's hips were swinging as he tried to navigate in his 5-inch stiletto heels. I could hardly suppress my glee. What a fun night this would be. For me, anyway. Stacy might have a different opinion, but it had to be done.