Some of the contingent in this taradiddle is fiction, but it is

strongly based on my first experience of `` dressing '' and

the aftermath. I think of it as `` enhanced trueness '', for

as the Irish say `` a proficient tale should always improve in

the notification ''. For the record I spent several old age as a

small fry with a planetary house full of Irish whiskey navvies, and gravid

Back in the late 1960 's I came home plate on leave from the U. S. Army

to find my mother was away looking after her untested baby

who was ill. My male parent had disappeared when I was a baby

so I had the place to myself. All my old couple were working

during the day and pussywhipped by their wives/girlfriends in

the evening.


By day three I was bored silly and, although the direful

'' cacoethes killer '' tights were the common article of clothing for girls at the

fourth dimension, I had begun my interest group in daughter when stockings and

brace were normal ( far sluttish to get your hands in a

girls knickers with those ).


I knew mother wore `` sus '' as I had watched her clipping on

stockings and loading her bra 's as long as I could remember.

So I rummaged through mothers drawers and found lots of tan

stockings ( not practically choice of semblance then, even black was rare

and regarded as too sexy for day to day wearable ).

Next I found her corsets and suspender belts, slips etc, and

soon sat in a deep, boned white girdle with the four gallus

attached with those small three-sided yellow journalism to tan nylon stockings.


These had very little stretch in them so once attached they and

the boning gave a belief of tight containment which I really

enjoyed. With the short suspender tabs and stockings designed to

only reach mid second joint, the foursquare edge of the stays stopped at

the bottom of my nates cheeks at the rear and pressed hard on

the foundation of my cock at the front, giving delightful feelings,

the unit matter had me bone hard, which tented the Caucasian silky

slip I was wearing.


For an time of day or Sir Thomas More, I sat in front of a mirror, moving my legs

to `` winkle '' stocking round top and White person second joint frame, and occasionally

my own prick, all very sexy but no pics then unless you were rich

enough to own a Polaroid.


After wetting my thighs and stocking height with my own cum, I cleaned

up and with `` rule '' clothes on drove into the nearby mart town. As

portion would have it I found a parking post close to the townspeople centre

public toilette, the old resistance character, now sadly gone in most places.

This small town loo only had two bunker, but I would go and say both

doors, like any formula male.


Soon I was sat in a sand trap reading the dirty stories, still at that

stage mainly hetro, with the odd gay one and zero TV tarradiddle. As I

knack forward to say a good one at the rump of the room access, something

touched my shoe, and looking down I saw a fist giving the wanking

sign and then wiggled a midway finger. I understood the wanking bit

but at the sentence Did n't realize the finger ( I found out not very

much later ).


My prompt reaction was to pull up my trousers and leave the loo

and sit in my car, while I sorted my idea out. I adjusted my

mirror to watch the ( only ) loo entrance. while I watched I tried to

sort out in my own mind what had just happened. I decided that there

must be a peephole in the partition and I had flashed my bare arse to

the early trap when meter reading. The wanking bit I understood, but that

finger wiggling had me. I even considered that there was a vernal girl

in there, wanting to trade a hand job for a puss fingering ( yes I was

that naive ).


After ten minutes no-one had entered or left the loo and I walked back

over, down the stride and back into my original trap. I dropped my

trouser, faced the sectionalisation, and put one human foot slightly under the gap

at the bottom. my foot was tapped and soon a note passed under, saying

'' CUM IN HERE ''.


departure next door took only a momment, and the door was locked behind me.

I found a 50ish man who put his pecker in my hand and started stroking

mine. As we faced each former, he leant in and started kissing me, which

I started returning without thought, finding it very enjoyable before any

bad reaction came, so I kissed back hard with maximum tongue action.

His loose hand started groping my fanny and soon I found out what the

wiggly finger think and did. He had some lubricant on and I found I

was enjoying it.


Breaking the osculation I whispered that I had a safe place, transportation near

and about my fertilization that break of the day. He told me his public figure was John and

I told him mine was Michael Soon we were driving to my blank space

both stroking the others cock. Once home we went to the bedroom and I

put on the corsette and stockings from the morning time. As he got naked. I

started to feel very sexy in my gear and started kissing him hard again

as he explored my eubstance with his hands.


On the drive up I had asked him to teach me about man to man sex, so

when we finished kissing we lay on the bed and he stroked me as he

told me that he had started when in a Prison-of-War camp for several years.

Quite a few of them had taken to it and he 'd love it ever since,


He started by saying that he was a `` Top '' who did the fuck and expected

to have his pecker sucked. He said that he thought that as I had started by

stuffing, that I would suit a `` tail '' who would draw cock and require it up

my arse. I had not thought any of this through, but when I immagined myself

in both curlicue, my cock stiffened as I thought of being a bottom.


SO, JUST like THAT, MY NEW space IN LIFE WAS DECIDED ! !


Trully we are ruled by our cocks.


He started by showing me how to suck his cock, controlling the insight

by holding the base of the dick and as much more of its length as needed.

I learned to unclothe back the foreskin from the helmet with my lips and to

push the tip of my lingua into his pee-slit. to slide my natural language under the

cock and to always restrain my teeth exonerate of this valued heart. Soon I was

really getting into it with my head bobbing up and down over his groin.


He told me to slow down, as he wanted to pop my cerise, so I started to

do one `` bob '' every five second base or so, keeping him deep in my mouth at the

end of each one, as I relaxed my clutches on his cock to allow a little more

in each fourth dimension. As I started to gag a little, he told me to try swallowing

as his cockhead entered my pharynx, which helped, and I really wanted to experience

his pubic whisker on my lips, and soon did.


All this kept him squeamish and tough, and got me used to having a tool in my

mouth and throat for extended menstruation. Meanwhile, he was fingering ( that wiggle

again ) my arsehole with some lubricant ( by the end of the sitting I was

using his description, and calling it my `` pussycat '' ). One, two, then three fingers

entered my pussy to their broad length, stroking in and out and round and round

to prepare me for my inaugural fucking, always momentous for a `` girl '' as I was

beginning to think of myself. Its funny how fingerbreadth up your pussycat can convert

your perceptions.


John then asked me to kneel on the sharpness of the bed, buttocks in air and head down

into a pillow, while he stood on the level behind me at just the ripe hight to

enter me. He placed his cockhead at my greased, and still slightly dilated,

pussy, pushing firmly forward and telling me to try to act as if I was pushing

a turd out ( which, perhaps counter-intuitively, opened my pussy up ). A short period

of pressing, and then his cockhead just slid through with an inch or so below

the helmet, I was no longer a virgin, but part way to being a true `` girl ''.


I experienced some flimsy pain sensation, but his readiness had done the job, and after a

dyad of hour for my body to adjust, he began to slowly act upon his to the full length

in. Out an inch, back in one and a half, adding lubricant at every out stroke til

the hairs that had tickled my Chin, now tickled my cheeks. Again he paused, this

fourth dimension fully in me, for a couple of moment to get me used to a purulent full, then

slid fully out, but straight back in again, working the entrance muscles, which was

still slightly dreadful, as well as getting my deeper bowels used to the invasion

of voiceless meat. After a few transactions of this, and after all pain stopped as he

re-entered me, he began a slightly shorter stroke, still going fully in, but leaving

his cockhead in all the time. He speeded up his chance event and said `` now we are really

fucking '' as I began to, quite naturely tug back into his thrusts.


Without warning, I had an intense orgasm, spilling loads of tinder onto the sheets,

corsette and stockings, and thrashing about moaning. He gripped my hips hard and

'' Rode The Tiger '', all the time fucking me harder and faster, till I had another,

less intense but much longer cum, gripping him with hard spasms of my pussy and

taking him over the edge into his. My bowels getting a duncish coating of his spermatozoan,

enough to make several babies if I had had the right equipment.


Both our cocks slowly wilted after such an intense piece of ass, til his dropped out with

a soft `` plop '', and his spunk flowed out of my pussy and joined that on the sheets.


lav stayed respective more hours, fucking me twice more, by which time he was knackered

and my kitty-cat was a bit sore ( before he left he annointed my pussy with a salve to

get it ready for the next day ). That came out of our talking as we kissed and

fondled between fucks. He knew that I had ten Clarence Day leave left and aught to do and

that I wanted Thomas More deterrent example in sex. He told me that after today, he might only manage

two fucks tomorrow, but that I deserved more ( I agreed ). So he would hail `` tenish ''

with a duet of his `` Top '' admirer, to continue My `` initiation ''. They would also bring

some nicer ( that is to say sexier ) apparel for me to wear.


Rather than have me take him back to where we had met, he used our phone to shout

one of those booster, Sam, to pick him up. he came in briefly and after initiation,

he pulled out his tool to show me. It was MUCH bigger than can, and I think Sam

and I would cause fucked there and then, had not John intervened, saying that I had

been fucked enough for the first day and could be damaged or put-off by more. But

that a good nights rest would have me ready for Melville W. Fuller sessions the next day.


John was certainly right about the in conclusion bit, and I trusted him after the way he had

taken me through my inaugural whole step in mano-a-mano sex so I waved them on their way.


As I lay in bed and just before sleeping it occoured to me the I had started the

day very world-weary and finished it `` very bored '' in a unlike way.


Perhaps tomorrow night would find me even more bored ?


I HOPED SO !

people they were.

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