Marsha Under Cover (part 4)
How does a straight man deal with a truly beautiful cross-dresser, even when he knows her secret? I hope you enjoy this work of fiction.
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I awoke still cuddling Marsha. As I lay next to Marsha I was amazed at how my partner Marty had transformed into a woman – almost completely. She lay in, my arms, her wig now crooked from sleeping in it.
I knew in my head that Marsha was really Marty, but my feelings said she was an especially pretty woman. That incongruity had caused me anguish, and still did a little, but I was coming to terms with it.
Just lying next to this beautiful woman was wonderful – I realized that I was beginning to really have feelings for her. As Marty, we were very close friends, but this was beyond friendship alone.
I carefully disengaged from Marsha to get up and pee. When I returned Marsha was awake. She also had to get up to pee. When she returned to the bed her wig was straightened and she had a lovely smile. We kissed and cuddled more. I slipped my hand into the back of her panties and really enjoyed the feel of her soft round buns. They felt so nice I just had to have a good look, and pulled her panties down and looked at her backside. There was a truly luscious woman's ass. I like most parts of a woman, but for me the ass was my favorite, and I had seen quite a few.
I moved closer to have a better look, and couldn't resist a quick kiss on each cheek, and then a quick lick along her crack. "Mmmmm," said Marsha, enjoying my attention. I loved to rim a woman's ass, and considered it for a bit, but decided not to just yet – I knew I'd be thinking about it though.
Marsha rolled onto her side and I could see that she was fully erect. She was small – about 4", but clearly very aroused. I reached out my hand and took hold of her, gently squeezing. When I did Marsha practically leapt to me and started to kiss me passionately.
I squeezed her as we kissed, and then she said, "I really need to take care of this" and began to pull away.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"Into the bathroom to take care of this," she said, blushing slightly.
"I'd rather that you didn't," I said.
"You mean that after getting me all worked up you just want me to get no relief?" she asked.
"No," I said, "I didn't mean that at all, of course you should have relief." I replied.
"Well?" she asked.
"It's only right for a man to take care of his lady," I said.
"What do you intend to do?" she asked.
I realized that I had spoke too soon, and didn't really know what to do. I could stroke her off or suck her off, but it's just not something a man should do. I kissed Marsha more to buy some time while I decided.
"You must feel very conflicted, dear," said Marsha, "you want to take care of me but don't know of an honorable way to do it – right?"
"Yes, I suppose that's right," I said.
"Whatever we do," Marsha continued, "is completely between you and I – nobody will ever know – just us."
She took hold of herself and said that she never was very big – it was probably more like an large clitty than a cock.
As she said that, I noticed that it did actually look pretty on Marsha, and soon took her into my mouth. Marsha grabbed my hair and held onto my head, really enjoying my efforts.
As I thought about what I was doing, I was simply going down on my lady – any man who truly cared about his lady would go down on her – it was only right that he did.
Soon Marsha was cumming and I got the surprise of my life. I found the taste to be horribly bitter and I thought I was going to throw up. I quickly ran to the bathroom and spit in the sink, rinsing my mouth out.
I felt embarrassed, especially since Marsha made no fuss about swallowing my cum when she sucked me. I returned to bed and found that Marsha had tears in her eyes.
"I'm sorry dear," I said, "I'm trying my best." I felt like I had failed her once again.
"I know you are," she responded, "and I really appreciate it – I'm crying because I'm not a REAL girl – if I was it would be a lot easier for you."
"Do you REALLY want to be a girl," I asked, "or are you just saying that?"
"Yesterday you asked if I had ever dressed in women's clothes before, she replied. "I lied because I didn't want you to think I was a pervert. Ever since I was a child I always felt that I was supposed to be a girl, and would dress whenever I could. I often got in trouble for it. My parents took me to doctors who said I would just grow out of it."
"I've heard of that," I said, "and I know some live as a woman and even get surgery. Did you ever get over it?"
"I tried to," she said, "I joined the police because I thought a manly job would snap me out of it, but I still felt like I was just pretending to be a man. This assignment has made me realize how much I really crave to be a woman."
I pulled Marsha to me and kissed her, and said, "when I kiss you and hold you in my arms I'm holding a woman. I had no idea it was like this with you, but I think we can work out a better life for you."
I had no change of clothes, so I left Marsha to shower and get dressed, while I drove back to my place to shower and change. I drove back to the hotel and we had breakfast together and went to the station.
Agent Sanders said she was pleased at the progress Marsha had made. I realized that Marsha was simply refreshing her memory on being a woman – not learning anything really new. I now thought of her as a woman, so it felt much more natural being with her.
Agent Sanders gave us lots of papers to read about our first assignment, but for the rest of the week we should get accustomed to being together so we can be convincing.
That night I packed clothes so I could stay with Marsha the rest of the week and drove to the hotel.
–––––––––––––––––––– To be continued ...
Feel free to contact me with your comments or requests. –Bill (oral_guy_2000@yahoo.com)
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