Some of the detail in this floor is fiction, but it is

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

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

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

the telling ''. For the track record I spent various class as a

tiddler with a house full of Irish drudge, and great

binding in the lately 1960 's I came home on leave of absence from the ground forces

to recover my mother was away looking after her jr. babe

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

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

during the day and pussywhipped by their wives/girlfriends in

the evening.


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

'' passion slayer '' leotards were the usual wear for girls at the

meter, I had begun my pursuit in missy when stockings and

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

girls knee 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 mothers drawers and found pot of tan

stockings ( not often choice of coloration then, even black was rare

and regarded as too aphrodisiac for day to day clothing ).

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

soon sat in a deep, boned Edward White girdle with the four brace

attached with those little trilateral tabs to tan nylon stockings.


These had very piddling stretchiness in them so once attached they and

the boning gave a spirit of tight containment which I really

enjoyed. With the scant suspender chit and stockings designed to

only reach mid thigh, the second power border of the stays stopped at

the bottom of my rear end buttock at the rear and pressed hard on

the base of my cock at the battlefront, giving delightful feelings,

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

slip I was wearing.


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

to `` twinkle '' stocking peak and blanched thigh flesh, and occasionally

my own putz, all very sexy but no pics then unless you were fertile

enough to own a Polaroid.


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

up and with `` formula '' clothes on drove into the nearby market town. As

fate would have got it I found a parking shoes close to the townspeople essence

public commode, the old underground type, now sadly gone in almost places.

This little town loo only had two traps, but I would go and read both

doors, like any pattern male.


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

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

bent forward to study a thoroughly one at the bottom of the door, something

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

sign and then wiggled a middle finger's breadth. I understood the wanking bit

but at the prison term Did n't understand the fingerbreadth ( I found out not very

much later ).


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

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

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

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

must be a eyehole in the sectionalisation and I had flashed my bare arse to

the other lying in wait when indication. The wanking bit I understood, but that

digit wiggling had me. I even considered that there was a Whitney Moore Young Jr. little girl

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

that unenlightened ).


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

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

pant, faced the divider, and put one foot slightly under the gap

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

'' CUM IN HERE ''.


leaving future door took only a momment, and the doorway was locked behind me.

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

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

I started returning without thinking, finding it very pleasurable before any

bad reaction came, so I kissed back laborious with upper limit knife action.

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

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

was enjoying it.


breaking the candy kiss I whispered that I had a safe place, rapture near

and about my dressing that first light. He told me his name was John and

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

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

put on the corsette and stockings from the cockcrow. As he got defenseless. I

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

as he explored my body 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 inner circle 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 pecker sucked. He said that he thought that as I had started by

medical 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 rolls, my cock stiffened as I thought of being a bottom.


SO, JUST LIKE THAT, MY NEW spot IN LIFE WAS DECIDED ! !


Trully we are ruled by our cocks.


He started by showing me how to take in his cock, controlling the penetration

by holding the groundwork of the pecker and as much more of its length as needed.

I learned to flake back the foreskin from the helmet with my sassing and to

push the tip of my spit into his pee-slit. to slew my spit under the

cock and to always proceed my tooth well-defined of this valued 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 second base 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 piffling, he told me to try swallowing

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

his pubic hairs on my backtalk, and soon did.


All this kept him nice and severely, and got me used to having a rooster in my

lip and pharynx for extended periods. Meanwhile, he was fingering ( that wiggle

again ) my asshole with some lubricant ( by the end of the academic session I was

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

entered my pussy to their full distance, stroking in and out and beat and round

to fix me for my world-class screw, always momentous for a `` girl '' as I was

beginning to think of myself. Its funny how fingers up your kitty can convert

your perceptions.


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

into a pillow, while he stood on the floor behind me at just the rightfulness 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 dirt out ( which, perhaps counter-intuitively, opened my pussy up ). A short-circuit stop

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

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


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

couple of proceedings for my body to align, he began to slowly act his full distance

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

the hair that had tickled my chin, now tickled my cheeks. Again he paused, this

meter fully in me, for a couple of minutes to get me used to a pussy broad, then

slid fully out, but straight back in again, working the entrance heftiness, 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 sensation stopped as he

re-entered me, he began a slightly myopic diagonal, still going fully in, but leaving

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

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


Without warning, I had an intense orgasm, spilling loads of spunk onto the plane,

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

'' Rode The tiger '', all the time fucking me knockout and faster, till I had another,

less acute but a great deal longsighted cum, gripping him with unvoiced cramp of my cunt and

taking him over the border into his. My bowels getting a thickly coating of his sperm,

enough to throw several babies if I had had the correctly equipment.


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

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


John stayed several more hours, fucking me twice more, by which clip he was knackered

and my pussy 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 days leave left and nothing to do and

that I wanted to a greater extent lessons in sex. He told me that after today, he might only deal

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

with a yoke of his `` Top '' Quaker, to continue My `` installation ''. They would also bring

some nicer ( that is to say aphrodisiacal ) dress for me to wear.


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

one of those Quaker, Sam, to pluck him up. he came in briefly and after introductions,

he pulled out his cock to shew me. It was MUCH bigger than Johns, and I think Sam

and I would have fucked there and then, had not privy intervened, saying that I had

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

that a honorable night eternal rest would have me ready for fuller sitting the future day.


Saint John the Apostle was certainly right about the net bit, and I trusted him after the way he had

taken me through my first footmark 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 tire and finished it `` very bored '' in a different way.


Perhaps tomorrow night would find me even more bored ?


I HOPED SO !

people they were.

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