Some of the point in this story is fabrication, but it is

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

the upshot. I think of it as `` enhanced true statement '', for

as the Irish whisky say `` a good tarradiddle should always improve in

the telling ''. For the disk I spent several years as a

kid with a family full of Irish people navvies, and dandy

backbone in the former 1960 's I came base on leave from the army

to find my mother was away looking after her younger sister

who was ill. My father had disappeared when I was a baby

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

during the day and pussywhipped by their wives/girlfriends in

the evening.


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

'' passionateness killer '' tights were the common wear for girls at the

time, I had begun my interest in daughter when stockings and

suspenders were normal ( far easier to get your hands in a

lady friend breeches 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 mother drawers and found lots of tan

stockings ( not lots choice of colours then, even black was rarefied

and regarded as too aphrodisiacal for day to day wear ).

Next I found her girdle and brace belts, slips etc, and

soon sat in a deep, boned Edward D. White corset with the four suspenders

attached with those footling three-sided tablet to tan nylon stockings.


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

the boning gave a impression of rigorous containment which I really

enjoyed. With the short suspender tabs and stockings designed to

only reach mid thigh, the square toes boundary of the stays stopped at

the bottom of my arsehole cheeks at the tail and pressed hard on

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

the totally thing had me bone hard, which tented the egg white silky

elusion I was wearing.


For an hour or more, I sat in front line of a mirror, moving my pegleg

to `` flaunt '' stocking acme and T. H. White thigh flesh, and occasionally

my own hammer, all very aphrodisiacal but no pics then unless you were plenteous

enough to own a Polaroid.


After wetting my thigh and stocking acme with my own cum, I cleaned

up and with `` pattern '' apparel on drove into the nearby market Town. As

destiny would make it I found a park space close to the township centre

public throne, the old underground character, now sadly gone in most places.

This little Town loo only had two maw, but I would go and read both

threshold, like any pattern male.


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

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

bent forward to take a good one at the butt of the door, something

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

sign and then wiggled a midriff fingerbreadth. I understood the wanking bit

but at the time Did n't read the finger ( I found out not very

much later ).


My immediate response was to deplumate up my pant and leave the loo

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

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

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

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

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

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

in there, wanting to swap a wank for a pussy fingering ( yes I was

that naive ).


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

over, down the steps and back into my original ambush. I dropped my

trousers, faced the partition, and put one metrical unit slightly under the gap

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

'' CUM IN HERE ''.


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

I found a 50ish man who put his dick in my paw and started stroking

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

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

bad reaction came, so I kissed back firmly with maximum clapper action.

His free hand started groping my arse and soon I found out what the

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

was enjoying it.


breakage the kiss I whispered that I had a condom place, transport near

and about my dressing that first light. He told me his figure was John the Evangelist and

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

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

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

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

as he explored my physical structure with his hands.


On the driving force 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 respective years.

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


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

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

stuffing, that I would become a `` Bottom '' who would suck hammer and contract it up

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

in both rolling wave, 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 penetration

by holding the Qaeda of the cock and as much more of its length as needed.

I learned to peel back the foreskin from the helmet with my rim and to

push the tip of my tongue into his pee-slit. to slip my knife under the

cock and to always retain my teeth clear of this wanted meat. Soon I was

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


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

do one `` bob '' every five instant or so, keeping him deep in my rima oris at the

end of each one, as I relaxed my clasp on his tool to permit a little more

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

as his cockhead entered my throat, which helped, and I really wanted to feel

his pubic hairs on my lips, and soon did.


All this kept him squeamish and backbreaking, and got me used to having a peter in my

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

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

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

entered my pussycat to their full length, stroking in and out and round and turn

to devise me for my initiative fucking, always momentous for a `` little girl '' as I was

beginning to think of myself. Its mirthful how fingers up your pussy can change

your perceptions.


whoremonger then asked me to kneel on the border of the bed, backside in air and guide down

into a pillow, while he stood on the flooring behind me at just the redress hight to

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

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

a shite out ( which, perhaps counter-intuitively, opened my cunt 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 parting way to being a lawful `` fille ''.


I experienced some fragile hurting, but his planning had done the job, and after a

distich of hour for my torso to adjust, he began to slowly work his wide-cut length

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

the hair's-breadth that had tickled my chin, now tickled my face. Again he paused, this

time fully in me, for a duet of hour to get me used to a pussy wide-cut, then

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

still slightly painful, as well as getting my deeper bowel used to the invasion

of intemperately meat. After a few minutes of this, and after all pain stopped as he

re-entered me, he began a slightly scant shot, still going fully in, but leaving

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

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


Without warning, I had an intense orgasm, spilling onus of spunk onto the mainsheet,

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

'' Rode The Tiger '', all the meter fucking me heavy and faster, till I had another,

less intense but a great deal longer cum, gripping him with hard spasms of my puss and

taking him over the bound into his. My bowels getting a thick coating of his sperm,

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


Both our hammer slowly wilted after such an vivid fuck, til his dropped out with

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


whoremaster stayed several more hours, fucking me twice more, by which meter he was knackered

and my pussy was a bit sore ( before he left he annointed my pussy with a unction to

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

fondled between fucks. He knew that I had ten days leave left and nothing to do and

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

two roll in the hay tomorrow, but that I deserved more ( I agreed ). So he would come `` tenish ''

with a couple of his `` Top '' champion, to cover My `` innovation ''. They would also bring in

some nicer ( that is to say sexy ) clothes for me to wear.


Rather than receive me get him back to where we had met, he used our phone to predict

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

he pulled out his cock to show me. It was MUCH fully grown than Johns, and I think Sam

and I would ingest fucked there and then, had not Saint John the Apostle intervened, saying that I had

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

that a honorable nights rest would have me ready for fuller sessions the next day.


John was certainly good about the last bit, and I trusted him after the way he had

taken me through my start footprint 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 bored and finished it `` very bored '' in a unlike way.


Perhaps tomorrow night would feel me even more drill ?


I HOPED SO !

masses they were.

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