This story is fiction. Any similarity between names in this story and real people is coincidental. If you enjoy this story, please make a donation to Nifty so that those of us who are gay or transgendered can continue to share our experiences and fantasies with you. Feedback very welcome to: missbee2016@mail.com
JUST GOING THROUGH THE EMOTIONS
"You look very attractive this evening Veronica," I say as I enjoy the meal my lover has prepared for us.
"Thank you Jennifer darling, you look very pretty too!" Veronica replies.
Our eyes meet across the table and I am reminded of how attractive my companion is. So very beautiful that I find it difficult to believe that this woman has a penis and testicles lurking inside her panties. Yet recently retired Army Officer Gerry Stanford offers me the best of both sexes. A passion to transform himself into an attractive transvestite yet retain sufficient masculinity to play the male role sets Gerry as the perfect lover for a transgender such as myself.
Before our dinner date began, Gerry had transformed himself into the 'woman' he introduces to select acquaintances as Veronica. A transgender identity that has been hidden from possible ridicule for many years, yet honed with patience and dedication into the beautiful transvestite whom graces my presence tonight. Blessed with a natural effeminacy, Veronica's delicately painted lips and lovely expressive green eyes sparkle from behind the added allure of false lashes and masterly blended eye liner, offering an intimation to the passion that lurks in Gerry's mind. A passion that I have recently freed, embraced and fallen in love with.
Not surprisingly, my sex glands stir with a delightful tingle whenever my gaze lingers upon the attractive woman in my presence. Although no localized swelling is evident at this early stage, the sensation within my lower regions warns of a need that I know will grow in intensity as this evening progresses. Consequently, when I return my attentions to the food on my plate, I can't keep my mind focused upon the food alone, excellent as it is. The temptation to steal glances across the table to absorb every aspect of my lover becomes compulsive. It's as if I feel the need to reassure myself that Veronica is real, convince myself that this relationship is not a dream. Persuade my sceptic brain that behind that veil of expertly applied cosmetics lurks the most perfect lover that I could ever hope to meet.
"Hello, you still there?" my dream asks.
I awake from my fantasy in an instant. I look up into Veronica's pretty face again but nervousness causes me to stumble with my words. "Ar... yes...you"
Veronica saves me from further embarrassment. "You really are a dreamer." she says.
I feel a blush appear on my face. I have been caught fantasizing again. Emotions are something I find hard to control at times, but when I am dressed as Jennifer, dreaming takes my mind to where I have always longed to be. Into the very soul of the female that lurks just beneath the skin of my masculine body. The girl called Jennifer who right now needs to expose her soul and submit her body to whatever my beautiful Veronica desires. Men have tried to fulfill my dream with their words and their cocks, but only Veronica has breached the invisible boundary between sex and love. She catches my eye again and I look away, feeling embarrassed. I hope she can't read my mind! Such private thoughts are too raw to reveal to my lover across a dinner table.
She laughs. "Hey it's okay! I will take care of you! You must remember the pledge we made?"
Yes I do remember the pledge. How could I ever forget those long conversations we had when we first met? Hours spent holding hands on the settee, searching each other's eyes for the reflection of oneself, whilst we discussed issues that had troubled each of us for all our lives. Intrinsic issues such as public intolerance and the desperate need for acceptance. Sexual incompatibility with men had disclosed many disappointments in both our lives too. This led to even deeper discussions about the entire transvestite experience and what each of us hope to achieve in the future.
On other occasions our kindred feminine dispositions had us debating such simple issues as whether a girl should wear a long sleeved top with a mini skirt. The relief we both felt at finding someone with similar dreams and similar interests, bonded us so close that love crept up upon us without warning. Yet it wasn't easy to give up the barriers that we had both built up to protect ourselves from public mockery. After many years of ridicule and rejection, we both felt the need for almost constant reassurance.
I remember the tears. Mostly mine, although Veronica has wept on several occasions too. Sometimes just a wetness in the eyes, sometimes a trickle down a cheek and on at least two occasions, a cry onto a comforting shoulder. As my confidence rose under Veronica's expert guidance and our relationship grew into something deeper, I have dropped my guard further, exposing the fragility that I believe substantiates my transgender status.
Sometimes my emotions scare me. The fear of rejection and of misinterpretation is the most profound. Shyness too. The affliction that has me looking away when Veronica needs to read what I am feeling. Veronica is beginning to breach my barriers and I am just a little scared.
A lifetime career in the Army and having to project himself as a strong leader of men, I know that Veronica suffers from a different unease. She needs regular reassurance that her transformation is indeed consummate and convincing, especially when she adopts the female role. But with each helping the other, we're working through the issues. As this confusion of identity and orientation is something that we share, this partnership has blossomed into a special alliance. I have discovered on many occasions that a strong, red blooded man with compulsive urges to fuck the woman who teases his masculine gonads, lurks beneath Gerry's veil of femininity. Yet Gerry retains the ability to quickly cross that invisible divide and seduce me into her arms and into her body. Half man, half woman, Gerry/Veronica can be masculine, feminine, dominant or submissive or any variation that her furtive mind may invent. Crossing that divide means he/she understands the emotions involved in living in the wrong body. But of course I love Gerry/Veronica in whichever guise he/she may choose to express her sexuality. As Jennifer and Veronica's lover, I cross that blurred divide between male and female often too. Being flexible enough to play many roles has bonded our relationship into a very intimate affinity of similar personalities. We enjoy switching roles, sometimes experiencing the extremes, but mostly enjoying the nuances and unpredictability of the majority group. Unpredictability in our lovemaking keeps us guessing and never bored.
The prearranged dress code for tonight's dinner was 'Night Wear', but as usual, only the headline has been respected. Our dress codes are not compulsory. They are a simple suggestion to ensure that both partners approach the dinner table wearing something similar. Freedom to impress and even outrage the partner is important to preserve our individual style and keep the other guessing. Wearing bras, suspenders, stockings and heels is not only permitted within a nightwear code but expected. We are transvestites after all and these items are what we enjoy wearing the most.
The ruffle edged, deep-vee neckline of Veronica's bright red, gossamer thin baby-doll nightie that she wears tonight reaches low enough to offer a hint of cleavage, encouraging the mind to imagine those delightful little buds that Veronica refers to as her 'tits'. A similar ruffled hem drops to about the midpoint down her thighs, frustrating my attempts to see her panties or even ascertain if my lover is wearing any. Yet the generous cut and high waisted style allows a freedom of movement that keeps my eyes focused upon the hem whenever she moves. As a transvestite, Veronica relishes her chance to flirt at every opportunity, swinging her hips just that little bit extra to catch my glances and arouse my interest. Similarly, at these moments, I make no apology for feasting my eyes upon the pronounced tilt of a well shaped ankle atop red stilettos or her fabulous long legs encased in red fish-net stockings. Beautiful legs that go all the way up.... At five foot eight in hose, Veronica in stilettos is a statuesque beauty.
As Jennifer and her partner in this transgender relationship, I grace her presence this evening wearing a white bra, white G-String and white lace topped hose held in place by a lace suspender belt. To comply with the dress code, I have wriggled my top half into a white baby-doll nightie. Although both our garments comply with the dress code, I have chosen a more risque combination to convey my desires for tonight. My nightie can only be described as outrageous. Outrageously short. When I stand with hands at my sides, the hem drops only to across my hips, offering a clear view of the triangular scrap of material that is the front panel of my G-String. From the rear, the view can only be described as brazen. The string that gives it's name to such skimpy items of ladies lingerie, lies hidden within the narrow slot of my buttocks offering no concealment to the lower half of my soft bum when viewed from the rear. A bum that Veronica claims is the biggest and softest transgender bum she has ever had the pleasure of handling. The wide bands of lace that add glamour and strength to the tops of my stockings are in full view, as are the narrow straps that hold these stockings taut to the suspender belt. Consequently, I feel like a tart. But when I witness Veronica's eyes following my legs and bum whenever I move across the room, my decision to flaunt my best asset sits comfortably within my plans for this evening. The year since we met has taught me that my bum is one of my best aids with which to attract her attentions whenever I crave the need to play the female in our boudoir.
When Veronica stands to leave the table, I notice how the light from a window seeps through the shimmering, gossamer like fabric of her nightie to silhouette her fabulous slim figure. My eyes follow the vision of beauty that is my Veronica as she moves across the room to gather up plates from the servery. Blatant perving is permitted in a relationship where both partners crave to tease.
As she returns to the table, she sees me looking and smiles. She looks gorgeous and I tell her so. "You look nice enough to eat."
She pauses at the table edge, plates in hand to look into my eyes. A favourite passion of hers. A passion that still unnerves me at times. Shyness is one hurdle I still struggle to overcome.
"You look nice enough to fuck!" She blurts.
I am shocked at her blatant approach. Blasphemies such as this are usually only uttered in the bedroom or during a period of intense groping on the settee.
"Veronica! You are very naughty tonight! What on earth brought on that blasphemy?" I scold.
"Sorry," she says.
She lowers her head as if shamed, but I catch a glimpse of a smirk that lingers in her painted lips.
The bitch! She is playing her role so well! Sometimes bold, sometimes retiring, I never know what to expect with Veronica. Is it any wonder that she has my undivided attention whenever she is in range of my sight?
Veronica distracts my considerations as she offers me my dessert. I thank her and she sits herself back opposite me. We eat in silence for awhile, my mind drifting ahead and using anticipation to increase the tingles that race through my lower body. I picture myself upon her bed, my legs splayed recklessly apart, my cock curving back above my belly and my anus tingling with need. The tingles increase dramatically as I imagine my lover greasing her beautiful cock....
My dream ends abruptly when I spot Veronica studying me again. Our eyes connect and we both smile. Once again, I am reminded of the beauty in her face. Although it has been a year since we first laid eyes on each other, I still get a thrill out of admiring her madeup face at every opportunity. Right now it's those thin red lips that have me captivated. Damn it, those lips look so kissable! I am smitten. Veronica has to be the most beautiful transvestite I have ever met!
"Penny for your thoughts?" Veronica asks.
Startled, I realise that I am caught again, alone in my private world of fantasies.
"Arrrh...I was just thinking..."
"What were you thinking? Come on darling, spit it out!" Veronica squeals.
"Well I have decided that Veronica is the most beautiful transvestite that I have ever laid eyes upon!" I blurt.
"Darling, you are so sweet!" She says and reaches a hand across the table. I accept the gesture and we clutch each other's hand. Our eyes connect again and we both smile.
"You are very beautiful too!" She exclaims.
We abandon our meal to hold hands across the table. We sit like this for several minutes, our hands clutching each other's and our eyes searching for that indefinable acceptance that exists only between lovers.
"I love you Veronica," I whisper.
"I love you too Jennifer," she purrs.
I feel a familiar stir in my pelvic area, accompanied by a stretching sensation in my G-String. A sensation that warns me of the inadequate shaping in the front panel of women's panties for those women whom have something extra to conceal.
Later as I place my spoon down on the empty plate, I say: "Thank you for that fabulous dinner. I did notice you know, despite the distractions you set up!"
"Ha, ha! Don't blame me for that! You know our rules about tease and anticipation. But I'm always happy to cook for my special friend," Veronica says.
I catch her eye again and she flutters her thick artificial lashes. How does she know to attract me like that? I am so smitten, my heart beats at a faster pace.
"You look absolutely fabulous this evening darling," I comment.
"Thank you darling, you look very sexy...but...very feminine too!" Veronica replies.
I understand her conflict. Until we offer or proclaim our roles for each session, neither partner wishes to enforce the balance of ascendancy. Yet our personalities seem so sympathetically aligned that on most nights, the question of who takes the lead or plays which role is rarely discussed. The way we dress is usually enough to cement our roles into play. We both know how to read each other's body language and tonight we are giving off clues that are simple to read.
"Is red for danger, or just a sign of passion?" I ask with a giggle.
"Both!" She replies.
"Oh, should I be worried?" I ask.
"Only if you are afraid of a full frontal assault by a soldier welding a hard weapon!"
"I will use my nightie as a white flag and lay down my arms...and...and legs to my master!"
We both laugh.
"Did you realise that tonight is nearly our first anniversary?" Veronica asks.
"No, I didn't notice. Sorry, I should have got you something!" I blurt.
"Don't be silly! I'm not very sentimental about things like that," she says.
"But a whole year. That calls for some sort of celebration!" I exclaim.
Veronica looks pensive. She reaches across the table and takes my hand in hers again.
"It's been loads of fun! That's all that matters!" She exclaims.
"Fun and understanding!" I say.
"Yes, without the understanding there wouldn't have been any fun," she adds.
We remain silent for several minutes as we absorb the significance of the occasion. I cast my mind back to our first meeting. I recall how my nerves were at breaking point when I knocked on her door for the first time. She is reading my thoughts.
"You should have seen your face that first night!" Veronica giggles.
"Don't remind me! I was so nervous it was just as well you were willing to take the male role! I don't think I could have got mine up enough to fuck you that night," I say.
She laughs.
We are silent for awhile again and I cast my mind forward to more recent meets. She seems to be reading my thoughts again.
"What's been your favourite theme so far?" She asks.
"All of them," I say as my memory runs wild.
"Or come on! You must have a favourite! What about that time I hired that Marilyn Monroe replica dress? Remember that? It was in gold lurex and had a big slit down the thigh." Veronica says.
"Yes of course I remember! That was an evening dress night. I remember how you refused to take your dress off even when you were pleading for me to fuck you!" I exclaim.
"As I recall that night, you fucked me standing up against the wall first. Later you held me down on my back with my legs against your chest on the bed, then ended the session with me draped over the end of the settee!" She says.
"Yes I recall having to lift your dress hem at each location so I could get my cock into a Marilyn Monroe reincarnation!" I remind.
Veronica laughs. "I had just got my divorce settled so I wanted to treat myself to something special."
"That dress really was special," I say.
"Did I tell you that I spent over two hours getting ready for that meeting? But a lot of that time was spent wriggling into that tight dress!"
"No wonder you didn't want to take it off again quickly!" I squeal.
"I couldn't get it off quickly. Thought I might have to sleep in it after you went home!"
She squeezes my hand again and I watch those gorgeous green eyes flash. "Thank you for that lovely evening," she says.
"Hey, I should thank you for that evening," I say.
"Why is that?" she asks.
"Because that was the first night that I spotted the genuine feminine need in your body language and in your eyes. A need that you couldn't fake nor hide. I saw it when I first walked in your door and it didn't fade till well after I had drained your sweet cum out of you. You being an ex army man, did cause me some misgivings when I first met you, but that night settled all my doubts. I think I fell in love with a woman called Veronica that night," I say.
She squeezes my hand again. "I love the way you absorb all the vibes."
"Thank you," I say.
"What about that night you wore the black and purple basque? That was a night to remember!" I say.
"Oh yes, that was a lingerie night. I've still got that bloody basque!" Veronica exclaims.
"What's wrong with it?" I ask. "It's too tight under my arms! Took me three weeks to get over the chaffing and blisters after that meeting!"
"I'm not surprised it chaffed you after the way you chased me around the house and fucked the living daylights out of me!" I say.
"You know that you lead me astray with the way you roll your big pleading eyes!" She says.
"Yea but you certainly looked butch that night! I'll never forget the sight that greeted me when I knocked on your door," I say.
She laughs. "I'll never forget the look on your face when I gestured for you to enter my house!"
"I thought I had arrived at a B+D establishment!" I say.
She laughs. "I like to immerse myself fully into the role!"
"I like it when you fully immerse yourself in me!" I squeal.
Veronica roars with laughter.
"That must have been our most physical meeting to date. I don't think I've been fucked in so many different positions before!" I squeal.
"Yea, you looked kind cute draped over the end of the settee with your legs in the air!" She says.
"Lets not forget that tandem ride we had on the exer-cycle! I still don't know how we managed that!" I say.
"You sat in my lap," she says.
"Impaled, you mean! Each turn of the pedals threatened to split me open!" I squeal.
She laughs."Then the tandem ride on the treadmill! Don't forget the tandem on the treadmill!"
"Now that was hard work! I noticed how you didn't have much trouble keeping up behind me though! It was all thump, thump, thump! And you complain about your chaffing problem!" I squeal.
She laughs. "But it was all worth it though wasn't it?" She asks.
"Yes, it's been fun alright," I reply.
Later when Veronica clears the table, I capture another thinly veiled silhouette of her slim body through her nightie. "You look sexy in red." I say.
"Glad you like it," she replies.
"I hope there is a raging bull lurking under that thin veil of red lace?" I ask as I stand to help clear the table. Veronica laughs. But then she reaches for my hand, squeezes it gently and looks right into my eyes from just inches away.
"You bet there is!" She whispers. "Should I be worried?" I ask.
"You bet you should!" Veronica declares.
She carries our dirty plates into the kitchen and I follow behind, determined to be close to her at every opportunity. I watch her tight bum cheeks flex as she walks. Wow, despite the feminine clothing, her army figure is still lurking under there! Her arse cheeks are as tight as a cowboy's. Since leaving the Army, working out at the gym and on her own equipment at home is keeping her back straight and her bum cheeks taut. I wish I could make a grab at her bum as she walks, but the plates that I carry tonight stall my opportunity. She bends to stack dishes into the washer and her nightie hem lifts to reveal a glimpse of a bright red stocking top.
I whistle my approval.
"You are naughty!" She says and crouches in front of the washer to thwart my view. The hem of her nightie makes contact with the floor now, frustrating my gaze. I hand her the plates I carry and watch her for a moment as she loads the plates into the washer. A see her thin delicate fingers and the red polish that signifies her status as a transvestite. I find it difficult to picture this same person running around brandishing a rifle and giving orders to a team of trained killers.
Later we sit on the settee as the news plays on the TV. But the world's events scarcely intrude into our private world as we sit and talk. This is our time to be women and discuss women's stuff.
Veronica tells me about the dress that is on display in the front window of a local woman's wear shop. Her enthusiasm for her subject and recall of detail always impresses me. She describes the colour, shape of the collar, the buckle on the waist belt and the depth of the gathered flounce in the hem. I tell her that it sounds delightful and that I will have a look at it myself next week. We discuss the merits of buying shoes from a cheap 'warehouse' type store. I ask her about the stilettos she wears. She uncrosses her legs and lifts her right leg up to show off her fabulous red stiletto. I tell her that I am very impressed but don't mention how my eyes divert to her fabulous legs.
She spends many minutes telling me where her stilettos came from and how she managed to try them on before buying them. I listen but my mind has been distracted by the shape of her ankle and the way her red fishnet stockings cling to every compound curve. I wonder if her display was a deliberate tease or did her enthusiasm for her subject distract her? Whatever, the close up view of a well shaped ankle encased in fine nylon increases the stir that I feel growing in intensity, deep in my groin. When she recrosses her legs, I give in to temptation, focusing my eyes on her beautiful thighs and the reinforced bands at the tops of her stockings. I catch a fleeting glimpse of a suspender strap where it is clipped to her stockings. It takes my excited mind several minutes to settle before I feel confident enough to tell her about the new bra and panty set I bought at a sale. She seems fascinated as I describe the lace detailing in the bra cups. She asks about the size and shape of the briefs. I explain that they are quite generously cut and feature exquisite lace panels forming a vee shaped pattern across the front, but with a central panel of stretch material. She says that she is looking forward to the day when she gets to pull them down my legs. I tell her that she is very naughty to be threatening such blatant actions. She pretends to sulk which sets me giggling. An hour or more passes this way on each of our dinner dates. This is our special time together as women. As a couple. A time to relax and express our femininity in an atmosphere of safety and acceptance.
When the conversation begins to waver, I decide it is time for another transvestite game. Tease.
I stand up and cross the room to bend and pick up a woman's magazine that I spot lying on a distant sideboard, before spinning on my heels and returning to the settee. I hope my deliberate flaunting of my body is not too blatant. But the excited look on Veronica's face as I return to the settee calms any reservations. When I sit and recross my legs I imagine Veronica's eyes upon my thighs, stocking tops and suspenders. Sure enough I hear her whistle her approval as soon as I have settled into position. I giggle my acceptance. Sitting close alongside her, I flick through the pages of the woman's magazine as Veronica tells me about an article that interested her. But a lingerie advertisement catches my attention first and we both study the beautiful lace trimmed bra with interest. Veronica tells me that it would look lovely fitted to my chest. I agree with her sentiments.
When I begin searching for the article she mentioned, Veronica seizes her opportunity to follow my lead. She stands and walks across the room. I ignore the magazine and lift my eyes to follow her graceful long legs as she moves to in front of the windows where the light silhouettes her fabulous figure. She turns to face me and checks that I am looking. I am perplexed at her intentions but I smile. When she smiles, I know something special is about to happen. Sure enough, she lifts her arms out to shoulder height, raises her arms at the elbows and does a complete turn around on her heels like a ballerina!
I watch the hem of her nightie swirl out and away from her body, offering a sexy view of stocking clad knees and beautifully shaped thighs. Then she pauses, facing me again, checking my reaction.
"Like a pretty ballerina!" I exclaim.
She smiles another of her fabulous smiles and spins around again. She is quicker this time, more confident and yet the pose that she adopts with her hands raised looks so elegant that my eyes focus on her whole body rather than her lower regions. I am captivated.
"Do that again...Please! Please!" I demand.
She holds her arms aloft again and spins faster. But suddenly she begins to loose balance! She grabs the edge of the table to support herself and retain her dignity. The startled look on her pretty face is something I will remember for a long time!
"You look fabulous! Come back here," I order.
When she returns to the settee, she sits right alongside me and we turn toward one another to look deeply into each other's eyes. "Where did you learn that trick?" I ask.
She laughs. "Promise not to laugh?" She asks.
"I promise."
"When I was on an overseas posting, they asked for volunteers to form a concert party to entertain some orphans at Christmas," she explains.
"Like in World War Two?" I ask.
"Yes something like that only this was only for the local inhabitants. No regular soldiers were permitted to come," she explains.
"Probably just as well after seeing that sexy performance!" I say.
She laughs.
"Come here my pretty ballerina." I whisper. We move closer together.
"Love your perfume, my dear," Veronica whispers.
"Selena Gomez," I reply.
"Who?"
"The fragrance! Selena Gomez!" I whisper, then giggle.
"Oh."
I reach for her and our faces approach to within inches. Her beauty captures my attention again. I see her delicate face structure, the fabulous way she has enhanced her eyes and the sensuality that her lipstick has imparted to her mouth.
"You look absolutely stunning again this evening my dear," I whisper.
"So do you."
As her lips form the words, I spot that hint of sensuality in her mouth again. We've been meeting regularly for a year now, yet I am still mesmerized by it. I am certain that there is just the slightest hint of a ripple in her bottom lip when her mind is alive with passion. It is not there all the time and hard to catch, but when I do see it my infatuation races into overdrive.
"You were too pretty to be a man, much less a soldier," I whisper.
"Thank you."
"But tonight I need Gerry," I whisper.
"Gerry needs Jennifer tonight too!" She giggles.
The kiss begins as a soft and gentle brush across painted lips. It's almost as if neither partner wishes to disturb the meticulous work put into the other's make-up. But once initiated, the contact and taste stirs a longing for deeper intimacy in the mind and body. Aroused now, only frivolous conversation seems to pass our lips between kisses.
"Love you darling," is repeated by both partners between lips sucks, cheeky tongue stabs and deep tongue duals.
"You look good and taste good" Veronica whispers as our hand contact leads into a full embrace.
"So do you."
As time moves forward, the kisses become desperate attempts to convey just a little of the passion that is building in our minds. Eventually hands begin to drift down to lower regions. Yet the touching and fondling begins as a very subtle contact. Both partners appreciate the pleasures of sedate seduction. It's one of the special treats that only real women and transvestites appear to understand. "You're too brazen!" I protest when I feel Veronica's fingers reach to contact the bulge in my G-String.
"Your short hem is too short! Too sexy!" Veronica retorts.
"That's no excuse," I whisper.
"Yes it is, you're asking for it."
"Asking for what?"
"Asking to be fucked."
"Veronica! You're dreadful!
"But you are asking for blatant suggestions by displaying your charms so blatantly!"
"But I am just an innocent wench with nothing better to wear!" I squeal.
Veronica laughs. "Innocent wench? I suppose next thing you'll claim to be a virgin!"
I laugh. "Not after that time you wore that purple basque!"
When her assaults increase, I squeal, "You are awful!"
I attempt to push her away. But her assaults continue, so I protest. "Veronica!"
I push her hand away again. My turn to play the girl decrees my attitudes for this evening. Subtle and not so subtle resistance is expected from the 'girl' in our relationship.
Later however, as our arousal rises and our contacts become bolder, desire turns the sedate seduction into frantic groping. Squeals of laughter erupt as the meager protection afforded by female G-Strings becomes apparent. I feel one of Veronica's hands squeezing under the soft cheeks of my arse. Wearing a G-String does have some advantages. The contact with her bare hand sends a shiver through my lower body.
"Love the feel of your arse!" She squeals as an excuse.
"You're a naughty boy!" I squeal, but I don't push her hand away. It feels too good now.
When my fingers contact the bare, hard knob of Veronica's cock reaching beyond the waist elastic of her G-String, I quickly draw my hand away. Timidity is a feminine trait I enjoy enacting because it frustrates Veronica and extends the all important role-play. In our private world, unless prior discussion has decreed otherwise, the man is expected to seduce the woman and the woman is expected to resist. But as passions rise, that resistance will falter.
I feel Veronica clutch my right hand and return it the knob of her cock. I resist for awhile, pretending to lack interest. Veronica becomes frustrated and returns my hand to where she wants it. Eventually, I give in and place my finger tips upon the large knob that stands proud and swollen at the head of her shaft, feeling the heavy lips and sensing the pressure of blood that lurks under the skin. I run the tips of my fingers in and out and around every indentation in her knob, feeling the shape and fantasizing about submitting to the power that lurks within my lover's masculine body. After several minutes, I pull back from this blatant contact and lean my head against the back of the settee. Veronica follows suit bringing her face up to mine until we are looking into each other's eyes from just inches apart.
We both have a hand resting on the other's thigh, stroking the thin nylon and bare skin above and creeping ever closer to that sensitive area between our legs. Both our cocks are at full arousal and within grasp, but for now, neither partner attempts to contact our maleness again. Our shared interest in womens lingerie becomes our central focus again. I stroke Veronica's stocking top and inner thigh and absorb the feminine feel that the contact conveys. I feel her fingers follow a similar path across my thigh and pause at the elastic strap of my suspender. Her fingers dip under the strap and tug gently, causing a delightful little stretch sensation upon my stocking.
"Veronica is a beautiful girl," I whisper.
I look into her eyes and see the acceptance that my words impart reflected back.
"I love you and I need you," She whispers.
My heart rate appears to increase again.
"I need something extra tonight," I whisper.
Veronica looks a little perturbed.
"What can I do for my little angel?" She asks.
"I need a highly trained soldier to breach my defenses with a full frontal assault tonight" I whisper.
I see Veronica's eyes light up with excitement at the chance to play games of tussle and tease.
She laughs. "What defensive positions am I likely to come up against? A soldier needs to know the strength of his enemy," she whispers.
"Expect a strong resistance to any forced entry," I squeal.
She laughs. "Sounds like I'll need to soften up the defenses with a concentrated volley of kisses and cuddles," she says.
I laugh "That's subversion! I'm not willing to lay down my arms in exchange for a few kisses and cuddles!" I whisper.
"Could I weaken your defences with a full frontal...um...exposure of my weapon?" She asks.
"I feel my defences crumbling already! I will tell the sentry at my back door to expect a visitor wielding a large weapon!" I whisper.
Veronica laughs. I feel her fingers move into the slot below my balls and begin stroking my sensitive perineum.
"Of course I'll need to recce the lay of the land before I arrive with my weapon drawn." She whispers.
I giggle. "Should I expect a full frontal, creeping flank or airborne strike?" I ask.
"How about a sneaky, back door approach when the enemy is in bed? Been proven to catch 'em with their pants down!" She squeals.
I laugh.
"What sort of reception am I likely to encounter once I get inside?" She asks as her finger tips race back and forth along the narrow strip between my legs.
"You must expect a hot reception! And I don't want you going off half cocked. There's to be no shooting till I scream now!" I say.
We both roar with laughter.
When the laughter dies away, she looks deep into my eyes.
"I love you Jen," she whispers.
"I love you too Veronica. I love the way you are prepared to play along with my silly games," I whisper.
"You are so sweet and so lovely that I'm gunna make love to you like never before tonight," she whispers.
"Oh Veronica! You sure know how to stir up my anticipation!" I whisper.
"I'm gunna fuck you and fuck you and fuck you tonight till you scream with pleasure!" Veronica squeals.
"Oh Veronica! You can be so rude, so goddamn crude!" I retort.
"But you deserve it darling!" Veronica declares. "That big soft arse of yours is better than any woman's!"
"Darling, that cock of yours is the biggest, fattest cock I have ever had inside my body!" I squeal.
"Jennifer! You can be so rude, so goddamn crude," Veronica squeals.
We both roar with laughter again.
When the weather girl graces the TV screen dressed in a gorgeous blue and pink ensemble, we pause and comment upon her immaculate appearance.
"What a lovely match," Veronica says.
"Yes, I love those soft hues," I add.
Our mutual interest in all things feminine has become a link that binds our relationship.
When a cooking show begins on the box, we both yawn. Veronica says nothing as I release my arm from around her waist, pick up the remote and turn the TV off. Without any instruction, Veronica takes my hand and leads me with a confident stride through to her bedroom. Her agreement to top ensures that every element of this evening's role play is as dramatic as it is satisfying. She folds back the covers on her bed, as I light the scented candles on the dressing table and bedside cabinets. She switches the electric light off and in the soft ambiance, we meet in the isle beside the bed. I open my mouth to say something, but she raises a finger to her painted lips and shakes her head. I understand her gesture immediately. The time for talk has passed now. In the silence that follows, she lifts her hands and presses them against my lips. As I kiss her hands fleetingly, I see the beauty in her carefully manicured nails and the freshly applied red polish. Enhancements that had captured my attentions during dinner and at the dishwasher. The subtlety of my contact is not lost on my lover. She brings her lips to mine and we kiss again. Automatically now, arms reach around each other and our bodies make full contact. Face to face, belly to belly and thighs to thighs.
The body contact ensures that the kiss becomes a sucking experience. First the lips, then the tongue. In time, the body contact becomes more and more encompassing. I feel Veronica's arms slide down my back till her hands reach the bare cheeks of my bum. Full hand holds quickly develop there, one on each cheek as she pulls me against herself.
When I strain to match Veronica's embrace, I feel my cock burst from the inadequate cover of my G-String and press against my lover! As the female in this encounter, I feel betrayed by my masculinity.
Fortunately Veronica ignores my accidental transgression, digging her fingers harder and harder into the soft flesh of my bum as she attempts to increase the body contact and draw my body against hers. As she is taller, I feel myself being lifted slightly as her desire increases and her strength is unleashed. Eventually a pain develops as my super fit friend exerts his/her strength to appease her passion to envelop my smaller frame within her embrace. Veronica is demonstrating her intention to dictate proceedings tonight and I am thrilled.
The urge to open my body to my lover seems to increase as pain receptors in my brain interpret pain as correlating with submission. Maybe my brain has accepted that pain is part of the agony and ecstasy of transgendered sexual contact? Whatever, the sensation leaves no doubt that my body is about to be used by a man with far more strength than mine. I feel vulnerable yet with a desperate need for fulfillment.
The firm grip eventually leads to a grinding sensation as both partners strive to appease their increasing need for physical contact. Eventually even our cocks make contact through the thin materials that clothe us and we begin rubbing our erections firmly against the other's. To many people, our same sex relationship may appear strange and unnatural. Not heterosexual, yet not gay in the usual sense either. A transvestite needs a man to complete her experience, but not many bi-sexual men understand the emotional needs of a transvestite. Firstly the need for acceptance, no matter how inept the transformation may appear. Then the inexplicable desire to be indecently assaulted with both panache and patience, no matter how obvious the final outcome may appear. It's just a game, but to a transvestite, a very important game.
Eventually Veronica releases her little doll from her powerful embrace, permitting me to lead my lover over to her bed, where I sit on the edge. She understands my compulsion immediately, standing before me with her crotch level with my face.
I lift the front of her red baby-doll nightie and note how her erection has slipped from within her inadequate G-String and stands in magnificent, full arousal.
Although I am becoming familiar with it's appearance, I still gasp with excitement at each new intimate exposure. Without doubt, Veronica has a stunningly beautiful cock. Although it stands up and out to only about six inches, the heavy head with it's thick, overhanging flange appears to add bulk to the shaft. Compounding this impression are Veronica's pair of large shaved testicles that are tucked in, tightly bunched below her shaft, adding a perception of masculine virility. Not surprisingly, the prospect of submitting to the masculinity that confronts me stirs my desires to high levels. That gorgeous tingle in my groin that began earlier when we confirmed our respective roles, has grown into a desperate need for penetration now.
Rising excitement dictates that I reach both hands to the thin strips of nylon that reach around Veronica's hips and slide her G-String down her lovely stocking clad legs. Once at her ankles, Veronica steps out of her panties and I pick them up. Whilst diverted, she turns away, grips the hem of her baby-doll and lifts the flimsy garment clear over her head. After folding it carefully, she drapes it over a nearby chair.
Whilst she is turned, I seize my opportunity to feast my eyes upon the masculine aspects of my lover. I see Gerry's straight back, the taut cheeks of his bum and the ripples of muscle in his slender thighs. A lifetime in the military has left Gerry with a body that exudes power. This maleness that I perceive in my beautiful lover, increases my desire to play the feminine role dramatically. When Gerry turns and stands before me, I am reminded that Gerry is also Veronica. With facial features that would be the envy of many genetic women and dressed in a pretty red, half-cup bra, red suspenders and matching fish-net stockings, Veronica looks stunning.
"You look absolutely magnificent, my darling," I whisper.
Veronica smiles. "Thanks sweetie."
She reaches her hands to the hem of my baby-doll and lifts it clear over my head and shoulders. I watch her gather up the clump of thin nylon, fold it neatly then lay it carefully over the back of the chair alongside hers. I am enchanted. Despite her arousal, patience and attention to detail such as this proves Veronica's transvestite status.
"Stand up darling," She requests.
I follow her order and feel her fingers clutch my G-String to slide it quickly down my legs. I step out of the scrap of material at my feet, then watch as Veronica picks up the G-String, folds it carefully and adds it to the gathering collection on the chair.
I sit down on the side of her bed again and motion for Veronica to bring her gorgeous weapon to my mouth. She follows my prompt and I lower my mouth to her swollen knob. A drop of liquid oozes from her slit hole, giving my taste buds my first infusion of male sex hormones. I begin by licking up all traces, allowing the tiny drop to linger on my tongue for a few seconds and ingest itself into my taste buds. The sweet/salty taste sends a directive to my brain that increases my need to submit. Yet even as I pause to taste the masculinity leaking from Gerry's sex glands, I find myself being influenced by other stimuli.
My olfactory senses catch the subtle fragrance of Veronica's perfume and my vision sees the exquisite patterns of red lace within the suspender that frames her cock. These combine to convince my brain that only a transvestite lover could ever satisfy me now.
Veronica moans and flexes her hips ever so gently as I open my mouth wider to take more and more of her cock into my mouth. I feel my lips pop over the heavy flange of her knob, then slip delightfully down her finely dimpled shaft, the textured surface of my tongue sliding down her sensitive dorsal channel. When I lift my head, I feel my lips being spread again by her large, blood filled knob, only to pop shut upon withdrawl. Excited now, I repeat the procedure several times, keeping pressure upon my lips so they are forced open by her large knob, thus creating extra friction. When I lift my mouth momentarily to delicately run the tip of my tongue into every crevice and indentation evident in her swollen knob, Veronica moans with excitement. When I pause to look up, I find Veronica smiling down at me.
"Love the subtlety of your touch darling," She whispers.
She runs her fingers through my blonde locks, then presses a thumb against my right cheek. The touch is smooth and ever so gentle. An unspoken reminder of acceptance and unrestrained affection.
When I return my mouth to her cock, I note how a little of my lipstick has rubbed off, imparting a delicate shade of pink upon her fabulous, blood engorged knob. It looks so utterly fabulous that I open my mouth wide and plunge deeply down upon her erection with scant regard for finesse, burying her shaft to the back of my mouth with a rapid thrust.
Veronica is stunned. "You teasing bitch!"
I return to gentle sucks and licks, varying my tease to run the tip of my tongue around every indentation in her swollen knob before popping my lips over her knob again. Veronica's moans increase in frequency. I lap up every blob of liquid that oozes from her slit hole, letting the tang linger on my taste buds for as long as possible. Then I repeat the wild plunge of my mouth upon her beautiful cock, ensuring that my tongue remains in contact with her dorsal channel all the way to the back of my mouth. Veronica squeals her approval. When I shift my mouth to her two beautiful hairless testicles and mouth each of them in turn, rolling my tongue over the finely creased surface, I find myself drooling over the masculinity apparent in such beautiful packages.
When I pause to look up into my lover's eyes and find my lover smiling, I suspect that she has mischief planned.
Sure enough she clutches both of my hands!
I am caught by surprise and protest. "What are you up too?"
She ignores my question and pushes me back till I lie upon my back near the center of the bed. Here she forces my legs apart as she straddles me, grinding my body into the soft mattress. I am stunned but when I spot the flash of excitement in her eyes I begin to understand her urgency and melt into my role. It seems to match the throbbing need that I feel within my sex glands, deep within my pelvis. Her mouth comes down to mine and we kiss. It is apparent that this kiss is no gentle attempt at seduction. Frantic is the most logical word to describe this kiss. The passion within our minds now is more of a need than a desire and is reflected in the way our mouths open and our tongues dual for possession. Not surprisingly, the kiss endures for what seems an eternity as both partners strive to convey not only their emotional affections for the other, but their pressing sexual needs too.
"I'm going to fuck you now!" Veronica whispers when breathing prompts a pause.
"Please be gentle with me darling!" I whisper. She laughs, then looks down upon me from just inches away. Our eyes meet and I sense the flash of excitement in her mind.
"Please take me and use me," I whisper.
Veronica smiles and flutters her thick lashes.
"I love you Jen," she whispers.
As she looks down into my eyes, she dips the knob of her cock lower to below my testicles and presses her hard cock against my sensitive perineum. Still watching and reading my reactions, she begins thrusting her cock against my perineum, jabbing and stabbing repeatedly. It's her tease for what lies in store for her woman. Although it is only a simulation, every punch of her cock, every flex of her hips to between my thighs, confirms her strength. Yet feeling vulnerable to the male's power feels natural when my mind and body is in feminine mode.
Veronica reads my body language and facial expressions correctly again.
"You're really immersed tonight Jen," She whispers.
"I know. Sorry sweetie. My role seems to have taken charge of me tonight."
Don't apologize! Just relax and let your emotions transport you into the role nature intended for you darling. I will take care of you every step of the way. Promise."
"Did I ever tell you that I love you?" I whisper.
"Yes you did. Now let me look after my special girl." Veronica says.
She lifts herself away from within my embrace. Immediately, I feel abandoned. But then a slap of bare hand upon my thigh, shakes me from my dream. It is Veronica's signal for me to move.
I roll over onto my front and bury my face in a pillow. We have learned to treat a pillow as a blindfold. It is one of our little treats. To blind oneself to visual stimulus and hopefully heighten our sense of touch. It certainly seems to work when Veronica is playing her masculine role and my femininity is pleading for fulfillment.
But nothing happens for several minutes and my anticipation rises so high I nearly scream with frustration. I am tempted to lift my head and sneak a quick look but recall that tease and anticipation is what keeps our relationship fresh and never bored.
Then I feel the bed dip and bend as Veronica positions herself behind and over me. I wait for her first contact with my heart racing.
Suddenly, I feel her lips at my shoulders. She is kissing there and on my neck. The delicate contact seeds a shiver straight to my cock where it lies squashed into the mattress.
"You're a very beautiful woman," Veronica whispers.
I feel her kisses reach lower and lower down my spine. The sensation is delightful but I wonder how far she will go?
"Please!" I squeal.
Veronica picks up on my reactions and ignores my plea for urgency. Not knowing what the next step will be or where the next kiss will fall is what this game is all about. Today she pauses for several minutes, leaving me panting and shivering. I know that she is still astride me because I can feel her breath on the back of my neck. But what is she doing? Then I feel the bed move as she shifts herself lower. Her kisses contact my body across my lower back, perilously close to the commencement of my bum crack, but never quite going lower enough. She is taking her time and really extending the tease today.
I feel the bed move rather violently and I realize she has got off it onto the floor alongside.
Suddenly I feel her hands on my arse cheeks. She's parting them and opening me to her inspection. I hear her whistle and imagine her eyes staring right into my body. I wonder if she can see through the round muscle of my sphincter and into the pink lining of my rectum? I hope so. I want her to see right into my body and maybe even spot the quivers that race through there as my sex glands anticipate being stimulated by her gorgeous weapon?
Surely now she will be so aroused that she won't be able to resist greasing her cock to plunge it into my back passage? I imagine the burn of penetration adding to the gorgeous tingles already there and shiver all over.
"Veronica darling! I need you! I need your cock in me!" I squeal.
Veronica says nothing. Then just as suddenly her hands are removed.
"Please!" I repeat.
Veronica's kisses return to my lower back but within minutes, shift lower to contact the crease of my arse. I moan and whimper at each delicate contact. When her hands spread my arse cheeks, opening me to her inspection again, I feel exposed and quiver with anticipation. I hold my breath, awaiting that first delicate tongue probe into my dark tunnel. Or is she still just teasing? Where is her tongue now? Where will she strike next?
"Please darling!" I squeal into the darkness of the pillow. The privacy offered by the pillow is becoming both a relief and a damnation! Why am I so eager to blind myself so she can take advantage of my vulnerability in this manner?
The sharp sting of Veronica's open hand that strikes my bare arse cheeks comes as a shock! The pain is quite severe, yet as the initial sting burns deeper into my buttocks, it seems to add further heat to that tunnel of fire in my sex glands. It streaks right through my lower body till I feel my cock stir into a harder rod where it lies pressed into the mattress.
Acceptable foreplay between us involves many impromptu play scenarios that add extra verve and excitement to our intimate games. I know Veronica well enough to know the rules, but still I get caught napping.
"You've been a naughty girl, haven't you darling?" She asks.
"Yes," I whisper.
She pauses again, her tease drawing my mind into a turmoil of what and when and where? "Please!" I squeal as my mind attempts to predict a mix of possible sensations.
Smack! I jump as her open palm strikes the flesh of my arse again. The pain barely has time to penetrate through to my rectum before she strikes again. Smack! Smack! Smack! The three full hand smacks create a stinging pain that penetrates right into my sex glands, igniting a fire from within. My cock seems to absorb the shock waves and feels ready to explode into the mattress. I hear her laugh, then her hand traces a sliver across my stinging cheeks, barely touching, yet reminding of their presence and how they could strike again. I imagine her studying her handiwork and cringe with embarrassment. My cheeks sting still and I can only imagine how they look to a lover with anal desires at full strength. Our relationship is bonded by familiarity with such contradictory games of pain and pleasure, yet I still get caught napping.
I feel my arse cheeks being held open again. I hold my breath. Will she?
The tip of her tongue feels like hot liquid when it contacts my tingling sphincter! Then it is stabbing gently, attempting to worm it's way into my body. After a pause, I sense a slippery sensation as she oozes some saliva into my crack and then the stabbing resumes in earnest. I moan my approval when her tongue forces a passage right inside me, tickling my sensitive opening and warning my sex glands that bigger and more appropriate intrusions will be arriving soon.
She draws back and I hear the cap flip open on the tube of lubricant that she keeps beside the bed. This is serious now. I lay still and I listen carefully, my heart thumping, my body in limbo. But I hear nothing. Nothing except the sound of a car passing in the street. Then silence. The silence seems to add to the tension that exists in this room.
My mind runs wild. I imagine her greasing the long thick shaft of her beautiful cock, her long manicured fingers spreading the lub into every crevice and down the full length till her fingers bump up against her balls. God yes, those balls! Those huge tennis ball shaped things that have produced the seed that lies waiting in her glands, poised and ready to shoot into my welcoming body. The ultimate compliment to my femininity!
I jump as Veronica pours a very generous strip of lubricant directly into my arse slot!
"You cheeky bitch!" I squeal into the pillow.
She giggles and repeats her pour but now her aim goes astray. Accidental or deliberate, I have no idea. I feel a river of lubricant run off my left cheek and over to slide away towards the bed. The wet, sliding sensation is so outrageous and my emotions so overwrought that I begin to giggle into the pillow. Veronica roars with laughter too.
But then I jump as both her hands descend upon my arse cheeks to spread the lubricant into every pore of my soft skin!
"You've got a very sexy arse!" Veronica declares as she kneads my cheeks with her open hands.
Eventually her hands gravitate to the central slot and her wet, greasy fingers trace a rapid pass through the slot between my arse cheeks. The sensation is delightful.
"Yes, please!" I squeal.
"A very sexy arse," Veronica repeats.
Her tease continues, running her fingers up and down within my slot for several minutes, but deliberately ignoring my anal opening. Deliberately ignoring my desperate need for contact.
When a finger finally pauses at my anus, I attempt to suppress any indication of the tingle that reaches right to the very core of my sex. But she must notice the rapid exhalation of my breath when she presses her finger through the tight opening.
"Your arse is so fucking tight!" she whispers. "Better than any girl's cunt!"
When she adds a second finger and her fingers press right in, greasing and testing the entrance, a pain develops. Yet I can't suppress the tiny gasp that leaks from between my closed teeth.
"You're a naughty man," I hiss into the pillow.
"Turn over Jen, I want to fuck you as my girl now!" Veronica demands.
Shit! What did she say? With my eyes tightly closed, my face buried in a pillow and alone with my dreams, I am shocked back to reality. After the relative privacy in the pillow, coming back to having my emotions read is more than a little daunting. I had been hoping that she would have fucked me from above whilst I cried my tears of joy into the pillow. Instead, I feel vulnerable now. For some reason, my emotions are extremely high again today and shyness and vulnerability are emotions that I find hard to deal with at such intimate moments.
But I know that I have no choice, Veronica calls the shots when she takes the male role. I turn slowly over and face my lover again. My eyes focus on Veronica standing alongside the bed. She looks more beautiful than ever! Then I see her cock. It is standing proud and hard, looking more magnificent than I had ever imagined any cock could!
My mind formulates the question that I hate to ask. "Do you want to fuck me missionary style?"
"Ah..Yes, I want to see the anguish and the ecstasy in your eyes as I fuck you," she says.
My fears are realised. "You're a bitch!" I squeal.
"Yes, I know! A real bitch transvestite! But you are so beautiful to watch darling. Your pretty face reveals your vulnerability like a map," she says.
I know I am caught with no chance to hide my emotions now. Shit. Shit. Shit.
She smiles and scans her eyes over my prone body again.
"Jennifer is the most beautiful girl in the world right now," she whispers.
"Veronica is the most beautiful butch transvestite," I reply.
I can't stop myself now. I stuff a pillow under my bum, spread my legs apart and open my arms in a welcoming gesture.
Veronica reaches for the tube of lubricant again and greases her cock with slow, powerful hand grips. Deliberations that are fully conversant with my desperate need to watch. Building anticipation by prolonged tease is the basis of our foreplay. Our recent decision to dispense with condoms is a sign of our commitment to each other too. Once shiny and wet, Veronica's cock looks even bigger than I had imagined, and infinitely more beautiful too. Without rubber to flatten and conceal the colours and texture, every lump, every bump, every swollen vein stands out in glazed magnificence.
She smiles another of her captivating smiles and I become a shivering, quivering wreck. My emotions are so raw now that I feel tears wet my eyes again, only this time they well up so much that several slide down my face. Veronica sees them and smiles.
"Oh darling, I love you even more when you set your emotions free," she whispers.
Her comment opens my flood gates and great streams of tears trickle down my cheeks. She watches with wide open eyes.
"Oh Jen baby, I love you more than you could ever know," she whispers.
Without a word, Veronica climbs onto the bed and lowers herself into position between my open legs. Shivering with excitement and with my emotions boiling over, I reach my hands to her hips and attempt to guide her body into the correct position. As her lover and her 'woman' I see this as my duty. When I feel her hard knob at my anus, I increase my hold upon her.
"Fuck me darling!" I squeal.
Veronica feels the tension in my grip. "Relax," she whispers.
I attempt to follow her advice. But when I feel the hard knob of Veronica's cock pressing her intentions against my sphincter, I find myself tensing up again. I lay still and attempt to will my sphincter to relinquish it's resistance and open to Veronica's demands, but once again, I fail. I find submitting to any initial penetration a physical ordeal. My anus remains a tight aperture, evidence of minimal use in the past.
"Relax darling," Veronica whispers and tries again.
Her cock feels huge as she wriggles and worms it against my sphincter. When a pain develops, I tense up. How can I not concentrate on the one thing I need right now? But then Veronica pulls away and reaches for the tube of lubricant again.
I close my eyes in a desperate attempt to follow her guidance, but only to find my imagination concentrating on the exquisite shape of Veronica's cock as she lathers more lubricant onto it. Suddenly I feel her wet, greasy fingers at my anus again. One finger enters my hole, then two, as she attempts to lubricate and open my entrance.
"Relax my darling," she whispers.
When she lifts herself into position between my open legs again, she scolds: "Open your eyes."
I didn't realize that I was squeezing them shut so hard! Embarrassed, I look up to find her looking down to guide her cock to my entrance again.
She hisses, "Relax, my darling."
But how can I relax when my mind is afire with such passion? Such need?
I feel a sharp jab, a withdrawal and then a harder stab.
"You ought to see your face now!" Veronica squeals.
I cringe and close my eyes. Fuck this shyness!
Veronica pauses with her cock poised to strike again.
"Open your eyes, darling!" She demands.
I understand her need and flick my eyes open again. I see her studying me closely.
"I love you," she whispers.
"I love you too," I return.
She smiles, then presses her demands with extra vigour. The pain increases with each jab till it becomes intense. Ouch! My mouth forms the words but no sound escapes my mouth. Instead I grit my teeth and determine to stay silent no matter how severe the pain becomes.
I feel another stab. Pain. Then a harder one. More pain. I grit my teeth and dig my fingers into Veronica's hips in desperation. She senses the desperation but continues. She knows that she must. I feel another stab. It seems stronger than the others, but something appears to give way down there.
Veronica pauses in mid stroke.
"Relax," she whispers.
I sense that the knob of her cock is resting in my entrance. Yet she resists completing her penetration for several minutes. Allowing time for my body to adjust to the unnatural intrusion is another bonus of having a transvestite lover.
Whilst paused, Veronica continues to study my reaction. I imagine she can see my soul! I look away to her neck.
"Look at me darling," she whispers.
I follow her order and our eyes connect. I feel exposed!
But then I become aware of a pressing, stretch sensation in my bum and spot the excitement in my lover's eyes as she dips her pelvis to reach her cock deep into my rectum. An image that I am certain will remain in my memory for long after tonight.
"Fuck that's nice!" Veronica says.
"I'm your woman now." I whisper.
But even now, my transvestite lover pauses to allow my sphincter muscle and rectum to recover from it's unnatural violation.
"Thank you," I whisper in appreciation.
I grip her body to mine as I attempt to reconcile my emotional needs with my body's unwelcome, physical responses. Damn that dreadful tightness in my arse!
Veronica thinks along different lines. "I love your tight arse Jen," she whispers and lowers her face down to kiss me briefly on the mouth.
Several minutes pass as we kiss and whisper words of affection back and forth, and soak up the intimacy that can only be reached by sexual penetration. Time enough for a delightful warmth and fullness to develop in my rectum which I attribute to my prostate appreciating it's intimate contact with Veronica's cock. Time enough for Veronica's cock to absorb the heat that only a tight arse can impart upon a cock too. Being tranvestites and willing to swap roles has major advantages at moments like this. Each partner knows what the other is experiencing.
When a kiss dissolves into another searching gaze into each other's eyes, my emotions boil to the surface again. I try to form words that will convey my appreciation for her appeasement of my need for intimacy as a woman. But the issues are too complex to phrase in simple terms. I want to tell her that my role today is not just a physical experience at the receiving end of a cock. My need to assume a role as a girl runs very deep in my personality. So deep that even I fail to grasp and control the emotions. If it was only a question of submission, it would be easy to explain.
When Veronica grips my hips and begins to thrust her cock, her exertions begin gently, building slowly into deeper and more rapid strokes. Thrusts that I know convey great joy to Veronica, yet my conviction that girls have the most fun increases with each thrust.
The burn and stretch in my rectum is very stimulating, but when I catch sight of my lover's beautiful face as she bites her bottom lip in sexual bliss, my pleasure is quadrupled. The knowledge that the finely textured walls of my rectum are teasing her cock better than any cunt could ever do adds enormously to the pleasure. When I am the woman, being privy to my lover's experience and pleasure is the best part!
Veronica is certainly enjoying my body today. She makes deep and powerful thrusts that create a gorgeous burning sensation right the way through my pelvis, my rectum and into my sex glands. A burn which seems to quiver as she withdraws and ripples again at each entry. It's almost as if my rectum is hanging onto her cock and doesn't want to let go. Every thrust becomes a test of the flexibility of my rectum to grip and resist the hard intruder, yet take it's own pleasure from the friction too.
As my arousal increases, eagerness to fulfill my role, means I lift my hips to meet each of Veronica's thrusts. I squeeze my anal muscle around her thrusting cock too, gripping then relaxing, hoping to increase both our pleasures. Hoping to convey just a little of the emotive thrill of being penetrated as a transvestite woman.
"Don't stop! Don't ever stop fucking me!" I squeal.
I reach my arms further back and dig my fingers into the firm, fleshy cheeks of her bum pulling her into me.
Veronica reads my signals. "You sexy bitch!"
I feel my anal entrance being wrenched upwards, downwards and stretched every which way without mercy, as Veronica holds her pelvic muscles taut, forcing her cock to dip down, then up as she buries her cock to the depths of my rectum. "Love your tight arse darling! Love your attitudes too! You're an amazing woman!" Veronica squeals.
I look up to her beautiful face and witness the euphoria of sexual intercourse with her lover in her expression and spot that sparkle of passion in her eyes. She spots me looking, pauses in mid stroke and smiles. "I love you!"
"I love you too!" I blurt.
Still connected in the most intimate way, she pauses, bends down and we share another brief kiss, but her rapid breathing prevents a longer and more emotive connection. When Veronica lifts her chest above mine again, I spot the lust in her expression and the flash of mischief in her eyes. Something is about to happen. Either she is going to finish herself off with a wild ride to the finish that will leave me battered and bruised or is asking for a pause to cool her ardour and prolong the session. Knowing Veronica's perchant for extending the pleasure, I suspect the latter.
Sure enough I feel her cock slide from my body and her legs retreat from between mine. I take my opportunity to grab a quick look at the gorgeous weapon that has been stimulating my sex glands and appeasing my needs. It stands proud and magnificent, bouncing delightfully as Veronica gets to her feet alongside the bed, still wet where it has been immersed in my girlie body.
The gentle slap of her hand upon my thigh brings me back to reality. It tells me to shift position. I roll away onto my front, spread my legs and bury my face in a pillow. I hope this is what she has in mind because I need a good cry to bleed some of that fragility from my soul.
I feel the bed bend and bulge as Veronica climbs into position above and behind me. I feel her fingers at my anus, guiding her cock and then her magic weapon is sliding deep into me. There is no pain, just a stretch feeling that sends ripples of delight straight to my sex glands, warming every nerve receptor in my lower body. I am amazed at the flexibility of my arse muscles to stretch so far without tear. Even my tight sphincter seems to have given up it's fight to resist large objects passing through it's clamp in the wrong direction. Mind you, after the reaming out that Veronica has delivered, I am not too surprised. Veronica supports herself above my back with both hands alongside my shoulders, as she buries her cock into my arse from above. She starts off gentle enough but as is the way with Veronica, she is soon plowing her cock to the depths again. Then she lifts her legs to outside of mine and squeezes mine together, ensuring that both partners get maximum friction from her thrusts. Today, as on every occasion that we make love, I am amazed at this man's control.
She lowers her face to my right ear and begins to communicate with whispers of love.
"I love you." "I love my little girl," she repeats many times.
She thrusts very slowly now. Sometimes pausing completely to look down to where her cock disappears into my body. I know she is relishing in the unique opportunity we grant the male at this point to extend the experience in whichever way he desires to fulfill a fantasy or tease his gonads long enough to provoke a mind blowing orgasm.
She pauses with her cock fully embedded in my arse and with her body hovering above mine.
"Oh baby, I love you Jen!" She whispers.
I'm feeling so fragile now that I hide my face deeper into the pillow and begin to shiver with emotion. I absorb all the vibes and hang onto every word whispered. Being a trans woman can't get any better than this!
When her thrusting resumes, it creates gorgeous ripples and shivers that race through between my legs. Her cock seems to be touching something inside me that it was missing before. I know the angle is changed. Maybe my prostate is getting direct contact? Maybe Veronica's feedback has added the mental stimulus that I needed?
"Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me!" I blurt into the safety of the pillow.
"I love my little girl with the hot arse!" Veronica whispers and bites my neck. The pain is minimal but what it relays is too much for my fragile emotions to absorb.
Without warning, I begin balling my eyes out into the safety of the pillow! The sense of relief from pent-up emotions is rapid and relaxing. But then Veronica hears my sobs and sinks her teeth into my neck in earnest. Whilst I am having sex, I find pain a powerful stimulant. It goes straight to my highly charged pain/pleasure receptors, increasing my arousal to extreme levels. My sex glands appear to teeter on the edge of orgasm!
"Love you baby," she whispers.
Veronica pauses, then places her hand on my left hip and attempts to lift it. I don't understand her motives.
"Come over onto you side. I want to spoon my lovely girl." she says.
I roll myself over and Veronica follows till we end up on our sides and with her cock still embedded in my arse from behind. For many minutes Veronica rests her left arm over me pulling me to her and cuddling me but not moving her cock. I feel it in me though. Oh yes indeed! A gorgeously hot rod of steel that reaches deep inside. With my mindset in full feminine mode and my sex glands on such high alert, the sensation is wonderful.
She begins thrusting again, flexing her hips and stiffening her legs to force her cock into me. My sex glands respond differently now. Each thrust creates tingles that appear to linger expectantly, then jump, ripple and slither away along the shaft that created them.
"Okay?" She asks.
"More than okay. That's bloody gorgeous!" I reply.
I've fucked this way before and enjoyed it, but tonight the interloper seems to be touching every goddamn nerve receptor in my rectum.
"Take your pleasure from my body darling! Make my dream come true!" I whisper.
"You're gunna get your reward very soon my darling!"
She renews her attempts to ream my arse with every inch of her cock. "Is that too much for you?"
"Not enough!" I reply.
She responds to my offer and in a very short time, everything becomes super sensitive. My body begs for relief from the pent up energy that is building and building with each gorgeous stroke of her cock. The temptation to grab my cock and relieve myself of this maddening sexual frustration becomes imperative. But my role tonight is to pleasure my partner as a female, so I ignore the desperate need.
"Jen! You gorgeous bitch!" Veronica screams.
I feel her thrusts shorten as her back stiffens. The strength in her back frightens me at these times!
"Jen, darling! I love you!" She screams.
I know she is close and shiver with anticipation!
"Jen! Jen! Oh fuck Jen! I love you!"
Her final, desperate penetration seems to reach to my very soul, burning a trail deep into me!
"Oh Jen! Oh fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Veronica screams.
"I love you! Love you!" I scream.
I feel the shock waves that grip her body as her sex glands shudder, recoil, then shudder again as her cock pumps her hot seed into me. The freedom offered by a bare cock becomes apparent to both partners now.
"I love you Jen! I love you!" She screams in appreciation.
Stretched, pummeled and now sprayed with hot semen, my internal sex glands quiver then stall as if waiting for that final shove. Free of my feminine responsibility now, I reach my left hand down and grab my cock.
But I never get to wank it properly. The pain that shoots like an electric shock from my shoulder as Veronica's teeth bite, grips my shattered senses to push me straight over the edge!
"Veronica!" I scream and shake all over as my orgasm tears through my groin.
Veronica's still jumping, twitching cock feels like a red hot rod within my anus, as my internal glands grab at her cock, then my seed begins it's rapid expulsion from my body. The first shot is ejected violently, spitting onto the pink sheet near the far side of the bed. Further shots follow in quick succession, spreading a trail of strips and pools across the clean sheet.
Through it all, Veronica continues to grunt and shiver as her sex glands pulse, recoil, pulse and finally ooze her hot seed to the far reaches of my rectum.
I watch as the last heavy clump of my seed oozes out of my cock and rolls over my gripping left thumb to drip onto the sheet.
Veronica holds me close for many minutes as our heart beats thump and stagger, then slowly return to normal. I feel a desperate need to express my thanks for Veronica's efforts to slake my girlie demands. Yet neither partner utters a word for many minutes. Role play within our transgender relationship appears to us as a natural response and requires no verbal endorsement.