Some of the item in this story is fable, but it is

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

the consequences. I think of it as `` enhanced truth '', for

as the Irish say `` a good tale should always meliorate in

the tattle ''. For the record I spent several geezerhood as a

child with a house total of Irish navvies, and slap-up

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

to find my mother was away looking after her younger sister

who was ill. My forefather had disappeared when I was a infant

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

during the day and pussywhipped by their wives/girlfriends in

the evening.


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

'' passion slayer '' tights were the usual wearing for missy at the

meter, I had begun my interestingness in girls when stockings and

suspenders were formula ( far promiscuous to get your men in a

fille 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 bloomers and found lots of tan

stockings ( not much option of colors then, even melanise was rare

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

Next I found her corsets and suspender belt ammunition, slips etc, and

soon sat in a deep, boned white stays with the four suspender

attached with those petty three-sided tabs to tan nylon stockings.


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

the boning gave a tone of plastered containment which I really

enjoyed. With the shortstop suspender tabs and stockings designed to

only reach mid thigh, the square edge of the girdle stopped at

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

the al-Qa'ida of my cock at the front, giving delightful touch,

the whole thing had me bone hard, which tented the white silky

slip I was wearing.


For an time of day or more than, I sat in movement of a mirror, moving my legs

to `` twinkle '' stocking round top and white thigh flesh, and occasionally

my own cock, all very aphrodisiacal but no pic then unless you were deep

enough to own a Polaroid.


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

up and with `` normal '' clothes on drove into the nearby market township. As

fate would take it I found a park place close to the town heart and soul

public toilets, the old underground case, now sadly gone in most places.

This humble Ithiel Town loo only had two traps, but I would go and understand both

doors, like any normal male.


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

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

bent forward to understand a honest one at the tail of the door, something

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

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

but at the clip Did n't sympathise the finger ( I found out not very

much later ).


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

that uninitiated ).


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

over, down the steps and back into my archetype trap. I dropped my

pant, faced the partitioning, and put one fundament slightly under the gap

at the bottom of the inning. my understructure was tapped and soon a annotation passed under, saying

'' CUM IN here ''.


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

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

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

I started returning without intellection, finding it very gratifying before any

bad chemical reaction came, so I kissed back heavily with uttermost lingua action.

His disengage 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 safe place, transferral near

and about my dressing that morning. He told me his name was whoremaster and

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

both stroking the others cock. Once base we went to the bedchamber and I

put on the corsette and stockings from the break of day. As he got naked. I

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

as he explored my soundbox with his hands.


On the crusade 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 enjoyed it ever since,


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

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

Dressing, that I would suit a `` Bottom '' who would suck cock and take it up

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

in both cast, my pecker stiffened as I thought of being a bottom.


SO, JUST like THAT, MY NEW PLACE IN life history WAS DECIDED ! !


Trully we are ruled by our cocks.


He started by showing me how to absorb his pecker, controlling the penetration

by holding the fundament of the stopcock and as much More of its length as needed.

I learned to peel back the prepuce from the helmet with my lips and to

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

cock and to always hold open my teeth clear of this precious meat. Soon I was

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


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

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

end of each one, as I relaxed my grip on his cock to reserve 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 finger

his pubic hairsbreadth on my lips, and soon did.


All this kept him courteous and hard, and got me used to having a turncock in my

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

again ) my arsehole with some lubricator ( by the end of the session I was

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

entered my pussy to their full length, stroking in and out and round of drinks and round of drinks

to prepare me for my first piece of ass, always momentous for a `` girl '' as I was

beginning to conceive of myself. Its funny how finger up your pussy can alter

your perceptions.


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

into a pillow, while he stood on the floor behind me at just the right hight to

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

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

a shite out ( which, perhaps counter-intuitively, opened my snatch up ). A curt period

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

the helmet, I was no longer a Virgo, but contribution way to being a on-key `` girl ''.


I experienced some slight pain, but his provision had done the job, and after a

duo of minutes for my soundbox to line up, he began to slowly run his full distance

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

the hairs that had tickled my mentum, now tickled my cheek. Again he paused, this

fourth dimension fully in me, for a twosome of minute to get me used to a twat full, then

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

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

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

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

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

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


Without warning, I had an vivid orgasm, spilling loads of spunk onto the sheets,

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

'' Rode The tiger '', all the meter fucking me harder and faster, till I had another,

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

taking him over the edge into his. My bowels getting a deep coating of his sperm,

enough to make respective babe if I had had the right hand equipment.


Both our cock slowly wilted after such an intense fuck, til his dropped out with

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


St. John the Apostle stayed several more hours, fucking me twice more, by which sentence 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 following 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 than lessons in sex. He told me that after today, he might only manage

two shtup tomorrow, but that I deserved more ( I agreed ). So he would get along `` tenish ''

with a duet of his `` Top '' friends, to retain My `` founding ''. They would also bring

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


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

one of those supporter, Sam, to cull him up. he came in briefly and after insertion,

he pulled out his cock to show me. It was MUCH self-aggrandising than Johns, and I think Sam

and I would possess fucked there and then, had not John the Evangelist 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 repose would experience me set up for fuller sitting the next day.


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

taken me through my first steps 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 different way.


Perhaps tomorrow night would find me even more bore ?


I HOPED SO !

people they were.

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