****** Never to Early to Learn - Part IV by AlterEgo ******
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Never to Early to Learn - Part IV


This is the ongoing series of short stories about a boy who felt more like a
girl. Two young women, themselves discovering their sexuality and interests,
like the idea of encouraging his interest. It also ventures into some
bestiality where the women know someday they will 'have a man' but substitute
this for both their needs and play. Each woman has her own interests and
curiosities that play out. As is curiosity, it opens many new doors.


Never to early to learn - Part IV

Cary, one of my neighbors, sat behind me in class. As I leaned forward in my
desk, a couple times I felt her tug at the back of my shirt. Each time I would
turn and she would look at me with a smile and said, "I'll talk to you at
recess."

So, when recess time came I walked outside with Cary and found a place to sit
and then I ask what she wanted. Cary began by saying, "I was walking by your
house last night and at first I thought you had company visiting".

"No," I said, "What made you think that?"

"Oh, I thought I saw your sitter talking to a little girl."

A fear shot through me as I tried not to show any reaction and franticly tried
thinking of something to say. But before I could say anything she said, "Don't
worry I won't tell anyone but it was you wasn't it?"

"No, why would you think that?" was the first thing that came to mind.

As I shook my head and made that 'no way it was me' face, she leaned forward
and said, "Does the bra you have on match your panties? I saw them when you
leaned forward in your seat in class."

I was caught and I knew it. My mind was racing and I felt the best response
would be to boldly and quickly just say, "Yes," as if going along with some
joke. "Are you going to tell?"

"No . . . well, maybe . . .it depends. Why are you wearing them? And, whose are
they?" she ask.

I said, "Ok, I'll tell you if you promised not to say anything."

I told her it began when the sitter first made me wear them once when Mom
forgot to do the laundry. Since then, both my sitters had made me wear some of
their sister's things.

"I don't believe it. You could take them off when you got to school and they
would never know."

"Yes," but I had to admit that I told the sitter I liked them better than my
own. Now she is in charge of doing our laundry and dressing me. Very
convenient. I explained that I found the difference and variety fun. They fit
better; they are fancier so they are a lot more fun. It does not bother me that
they are "girls" underwear, I like them.

"But why the bra?" she ask.

I said the sitters had said to and after while I had gotten to like them.

Cary did not run with the regular crowd of girls. They liked her to but she was
smarter and seemed more mature than the rest of us. Strangely as I think back,
she never made us feel infantile or got caught up in the typical 'I'm better
than you' games we all went through.

So, she herself was a little different than the other girls our age. Maybe that
was why she said she would not tell and I believed her. She went on to ask what
else I had worn, how long I had been wearing girls things and what seemed like
tons of questions. I of course told her, but not all.

When I got home that night I told Betsy about it and she was not happy about it
at first. She told me I had to be more careful and that I was very lucky. She
told me that if I wanted to continue then it was up to me, if I got caught she
would have to say she had caught me a couple times but thought it best not to
say anything.

She then checked the damp napkin I had worn all day. She was happy I had not
told Cary everything. Nevertheless, we should be careful for awhile.

Over the next couple of weeks, we did not play with her dog and I wore basic
girls cotton panties to school, no bras. At nights, I still got to sleep in the
PJs. I also stayed over at the sitter's house a couple times. My parents with
all their travel were gone over a couple weekends and everyone agreed it would
be easier. Our house was open and we came and went now and then as needed. At
the sitters house I never wore boy closes. Even the bluejeans I wore were hand-
me-downs. Shirts became blouses, socks were knee-highs or ruffled [when adults
were not around], and no one seemed to notice a thing. As you can imagine, I
was finding the attention and the 'play' of being able to dress as I was,
preferable. Without this, would I have been just a little boy they had to take
care of or drag around with them? Instead, I was part of everything.

* * *

It had been several weeks and Cary had asked a few more questions at school but
that had been it. Therefore, it was no real shock when Betsy came over to baby
sit that Friday night and she brought her dog with her as I rather expected. It
had been a while since, other than laying out my clothes every day, we had
'played', as she liked to call it. Remember that her dog is sort of a mixed
breed husky that had a personality much like hers - not always the most
friendly. It liked what it likes and did it when it wanted. The truth be told,
which I will do in these stories, since we first started playing with the dog,
there had been times the dog had just mounted me and done his thing.

Tonight, Betsy barely got in the door when she ushered me directly to my
bedroom and told me her dog needed his relief. As Betsy put some socks on his
front paws, I took off my pants. I started to get down on all fours on the
floor when Betsy stopped me.

"Hold on," she said, "tonight I want you to lie on your back on the footstool,
raise your legs and watch him mount you."

I had never done this. So, we pulled my powder blue panties with lace trim down
my thighs just far enough to keep his penis against me.

I lay on my back and the dog was on me in an instant. His penis was protruding
and started to poke and slide against my crotch. I held my legs up by folding
them and holding onto them just below my knees. I felt his soft fur rubbing
against me as I leaned back and relaxed on the oversized footstool. His precum
was beginning to make my crotch and panties wet. It had been several weeks
since we had played and I did love this. I had on the powder blue panties, a
powder blue but not matching satin striped bra and little girl's undershirt
with the rose at the center of the front. Her dog was making me wet and I could
feel his juices running down my crack. His penis was growing and sliding
against me. I found myself without thinking, rotating my hips up and down to
allow him keep almost constant contact with me and the panties.

After a bit I felt Betsy's finger working his juices over my 'little girl hole'
and gently pushing her finger into me to get me relaxed. It had been a long
time and it did not take much. I was in the mood for this fun. It was then she
took her dog's firm, slippery shaft and positioned him at my entrance. In took
about four or five strokes and he slid inside me. Buried to his growing knot.
He began to pump harder, sliding in and out of me a bit with each stroke. It
felt wonderful to be needed and to provide this pleasure for him, to service
him. I wanted him to fuck and fuck me. He did and I could feel him still
growing and pushing deeper and deeper into me. He was also wonderfully hot.
That warmth helped me to relax and feel him oh so deeply buried in my accepting
'womb'.

His knot began to swell and he was becoming rock hard with each frenzied
thrust. His juices were seeping out of me as I tried to keep some tightness to
retain his juices. I felt him grow very hard and slow his strokes. With that, I
also I felt Betsy pushing on his knot a bit to keep him inside me. I began to
feel his hot cum squirt into me. He did not move much when this happened but it
was like someone lighting something warm and filling deep inside me. It didn't
burn, but I definitely felt a growing sense of extreme warmth. When this
started, I could most times feel the actual cum squirting into me. I flexed and
relaxed my 'little girl' muscles, milking him into me.

After what seemed like ten to fifteen minutes, I was feeling quite full and the
dog was losing interest. Betsy played with his knot and continued to encourage
him until he just didn't want any more of me. With that, she helped slide him
from me and almost immediately dug her nails into my soft pink flesh around my
'girlishness' where the dog had just pleasured himself and me. Her nails were
not meant to be mean - well maybe - but more to help me tighten my muscles and
keep everything inside me.

As she wiped off the dog and pointed him into the other room, I rolled over on
my side and onto the floor. I was tired too. I had pumped him just as much as
he had me. Now I was trying to keep 'his gift' inside me. Betsy came back over
to me and helped pull up my panties. I too had come during his last frenzied
thrusting. It was strange, sometimes I got hard like the dog, and sometimes I
stayed soft. I still came when I was soft.

Betsy had something knew for me to try. She made me slide on another pair of
slightly larger panties over my wet ones. As I stood up, placing my hand on her
shoulder to steady myself, I noticed she had put the feminine napkin she always
had me wear after our fun, in the crotch of the other panty. Betsy had me lay
on the bed and spread my legs. She took her finger and wiped up some of the
juices that were on the inside of my thighs. She then reached inside my bra,
her fingers dripping with this mixture of juices and rubbed it on each of my
nipples and 'breasts'.

That weekend she continued her "lessons", teaching me though practice she would
say, to give the dog a blow job as well as help take care of him. I was to give
him what he wanted, if he wanted anything . . . anything at all.

As for the wonderful pleasuring, he had given me. I enjoyed the feeling of his
juices seeping from me that evening; and waking during the night to find myself
excited, the napkin and my panties soaked. I also began at this age to
masturbate by rubbing myself through the panties or into the mattress. As I
grew, Betsy - through a combination of fear & pleasure - could almost get me to
cum on demand, her demand that is. All's it took sometimes was a simple touch,
the slightest touch it seemed.

As I began to grow a bit, Betsy seemed to take a fascination in making me come,
along with our other adventures. I will tell you more as we go along.

* * *

So, from an early age I became very comfortable with my acceptance of liking
and wearing woman's lingerie, and have since preferred "their" underthings
including socks, hose, nylons, and sleep attire. I like the outer clothing from
time to time but only when in private or those times when, as I did at this
early age, I wear things that people don't even pay attention to like jeans,
pants or a blouse instead of a shirt. No one has ever mentioned that it
"buttoned backwards", even women. I don't own any outer clothing any more. I
prefer the underthings and sleepwear.

This story is part of White_Shadow's_Nasty_Stories.
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