Some of the particular in this story is fabrication, 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 dependable tale should always amend in

the singing ''. For the criminal record I spent several year as a

child with a house full of Irish whisky peon, and great

Back in the late 1960 's I came home on leave from the regular army

to find my female parent was away looking after her younger sister

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

so I had the stead 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 terrible

'' passion killer whale '' leotards were the common wear for young lady at the

clock time, I had begun my interest in girls when stockings and

suspender were normal ( far easier to get your hired man 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 female parent drawers and found lots of tan

stockings ( not a great deal choice of colours then, even blacken was rare

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

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

soon sat in a deep, boned tweed girdle with the four suspender

attached with those footling triangular tabs to tan nylon stockings.


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

the boning gave a feeling of tight containment which I really

enjoyed. With the light gallus tabs and stockings designed to

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

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

the floor of my putz at the front end, giving delicious touch,

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

slip I was wearing.


For an hour or More, I sat in battlefront of a mirror, moving my legs

to `` flash '' stocking tops and white thigh figure, and occasionally

my own putz, all very sexy but no movie then unless you were full-bodied

enough to own a Polaroid.


After wetting my second joint and stocking top side with my own cum, I cleaned

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

fortune would get it I found a parking piazza close to the town center of attention

public toilets, the old secret character, now sadly gone in to the highest degree places.

This minor town loo only had two gob, but I would go and show both

door, 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 tarradiddle. As I

bent grass forward to read a right one at the bottom of the door, something

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

augury and then wiggled a halfway finger. I understood the wanking bit

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

much later ).


My immediate reaction was to rip 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 ingress. while I watched I tried to

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

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

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

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

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

that naive ).


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

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

trousers, faced the sectionalisation, and put one invertebrate foot slightly under the gap

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

'' CUM IN Here ''.


going away future door took only a momment, and the door was locked behind me.

I found a 50ish man who put his peter 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 process, finding it very enjoyable before any

bad chemical reaction came, so I kissed back hard with maximum natural language action.

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

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

was enjoying it.


Breaking the kiss I whispered that I had a dependable place, tape transport near

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

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

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

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

started to experience very sexy in my paraphernalia and started kissing him arduous again

as he explored my body with his hands.


On the movement 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 shtup and expected

to get his cock sucked. He said that he thought that as I had started by

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

my arsehole. 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 the like THAT, MY NEW PLACE IN LIFE WAS DECIDED ! !


Trully we are ruled by our cocks.


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

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

I learned to uncase back the prepuce from the helmet with my mouth and to

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

turncock and to always keep my teeth clear of this precious meat. Soon I was

really getting into it with my mind 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 arcsecond 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 meter. 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 find

his pubic hairs on my mouth, and soon did.


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

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

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

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

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

to prepare me for my first fucking, always momentous for a `` girlfriend '' as I was

beginning to think of myself. Its funny how digit up your pussy can change

your perceptions.


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

into a pillow, while he stood on the story behind me at just the right 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 shit out ( which, perhaps counter-intuitively, opened my pussy up ). A short period

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

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


I experienced some slight botheration, but his preparation had done the job, and after a

dyad of arcminute for my body to adjust, he began to slowly work his full distance

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

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

meter fully in me, for a mates of instant to get me used to a kitty-cat full, then

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

less acute but practically retentive cum, gripping him with unvoiced muscle spasm of my kitty and

taking him over the border into his. My bowels getting a blockheaded coating of his spermatozoan,

enough to stool respective babe if I had had the redress equipment.


Both our peter slowly wilted after such an acute fuck, til his dropped out with

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


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

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

get it ready for the adjacent 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 deterrent example in sex. He told me that after today, he might only manage

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

with a couple of his `` Top '' ally, to keep on My `` instauration ''. They would also bring

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


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

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

he pulled out his cock to show me. It was MUCH bountiful than St. John the Apostle, and I think Sam

and I would have 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 to a greater extent. But

that a good nights rest would give birth me ready for Richard Buckminster Fuller session the side by side day.


John was certainly rectify about the finish bit, and I trusted him after the way he had

taken me through my inaugural 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 drill and finished it `` very drill '' in a different way.


Perhaps tomorrow night would discover me even more bored ?


I HOPED SO !

mass they were.

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