After years of a loveless, sexless, in-the-closet marriage I was finally free - standing alone in the living room of my apartment. My wife had left me for "another" man - I say "another" because I am not much of a man. She had figured out years ago what I am - a gay, pansy, transvestite faggot.
At age 57, my first act of my new life was to wax my body and legs and arms. It felt so good - so right. The only hair I left except for my head was a small patch of pubic hair in the shape of a love heart. I immediately took to wearing high healed slippers around home and most importantly from then on I always sat down to pee - I had never been able to pee in front of other men anyway - another thing that felt so right.
My aim was to develop my look for attending drag, tranny bars and hopefully to pick up men who would treat me and use me as a lady. My dream was an older silver haired man, well endowed and totally queer in his own way.
There was a drag clothing shop nearby which I was popping in and out of all the time and I spent countless hours going through trans clothing catalogues and within a few months I had a large and growing wardrobe ranging from sexy to slutty to sensible. I named myself Caroline Bunny.
I started going to the two drag bars in the area and had quite a few "brief" encounters usually sucking a guy off in one of the toilet stalls and sometimes being fucked - I went for bareback if they were into it, because I wanted the whole experience - in fact I had a deep longing for cum inside me. When I was lucky enough to get a full load inside me I loved to put my fingers down there and get some as it oozed out which I would smell and taste and rub around my lips like gloss. I didn't just love cum, I revered and worshipped cum. A true faggot cumslut.
One night I was at my fave drag bar and some of the girls invited me to a party. I was looking hot in a short black miniskirt and a hot pink top - even though I was 57 I have to say that my legs look really sexy in heels. The party was full of gay men and trans gals of all kinds. We all had some molly which always makes me feel super-femme and slutty. There was a kind of dungeon happening where there were things going on that your mother couldn't warn you about because she couldn't have imagined.
I was dancing when a man approached took my hand stared into my eyes and said, "You know you are quite lovely". I melted inside and leaned in and kissed him passionately. I told him my name and he said, "I am going to call you my little Bunny." I melted inside again. We went back to my apartment - he was about 5' 11', mid 60s, trim with a nice chest and a solid 7" cock that was impressively thick. He said his name was Peter. He fucked me over and over - I was quite sore in the morning but in a good way - and he left at dawn.
A couple of days later he turned up at my door with a big bunch of flowers and we kissed and licked and fucked every inch of each others bodies. A repeat customer for the first time! Did I have a boyfriend? Well for awhile. He stopped coming after a month or so and I never really learnt much about him - but at least he made my dream come true.
A couple of years later I was walking down the main gay strip, dressed very slutty and holding hands with a big bear of a man I was seeing, when I saw my ex-wife and her partner walking towards us. She walked straight on by without noticing me. It made me so thankful that I had made the move to live out my dreams and desires and also realise that my change of life was complete.