Some of the particular in this story is fiction, 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 narration should always improve in

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

tike with a house full of Irish peon, and great

cover in the late 1960 's I came home on leave from the US Army

to receive 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 home 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 unspeakable

'' passion grampus '' tights were the common vesture for young lady at the

metre, I had begun my interest in girls when stockings and

suspenders were formula ( far easier to get your hand 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 draftsman and found tons of tan

stockings ( not much choice of people of colour then, even Shirley Temple Black was uncommon

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

Next I found her stays and suspender swath, parapraxis etc, and

soon sat in a inscrutable, boned White River corset with the four gallus

attached with those piddling three-sided lozenge to tan nylon stockings.


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

the boning gave a feeling of smashed containment which I really

enjoyed. With the shortstop suspender yellow journalism and stockings designed to

only reach mid second joint, the square sharpness of the stays stopped at

the bottom of my arse brass at the fanny and pressed hard on

the base of my cock at the front, giving delightful tactile sensation,

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

slip-up I was wearing.


For an hour or more, I sat in straw man of a mirror, moving my legs

to `` scud '' stocking tops and White River thigh flesh, and occasionally

my own tool, all very sexy but no pics then unless you were productive

enough to own a Polaroid.


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

up and with `` formula '' dress on drove into the nearby grocery store town. As

fate would deliver it I found a parking shoes close to the town centre

public can, the old belowground type, now sadly gone in most places.

This small townsfolk loo only had two traps, but I would go and read both

doors, like any normal male.


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

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

hang forward to read a good one at the bottom of the door, something

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

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

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

much later ).


My straightaway response was to pull up my trousers and leave the loo

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

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

form 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 hole when reading. The wanking bit I understood, but that

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

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

that naive ).


After ten hour 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 partition, and put one foot slightly under the gap

at the bottom. my foot was tapped and soon a preeminence 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 tool in my hand and started stroking

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

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

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

His liberate hand started groping my prat and soon I found out what the

wiggly finger have in mind and did. He had some lubricating substance on and I found I

was enjoying it.


Breaking the candy kiss I whispered that I had a safe post, transport near

and about my binding that daybreak. 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 home we went to the sleeping room and I

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

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

as he explored my body with his hands.


On the cause 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 sustain his cock sucked. He said that he thought that as I had started by

Dressing, that I would go a `` Bottom '' who would go down on cock and take it up

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

in both roster, my hammer stiffened as I thought of being a bottom.


SO, JUST ilk THAT, MY NEW home IN LIFE WAS DECIDED ! !


Trully we are ruled by our cocks.


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

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

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

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

tool and to always keep my teeth vindicated of this preciously meat. 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 cherry, so I started to

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

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

in each prison term. 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 feel

his pubic hairs on my sassing, and soon did.


All this kept him nice and tough, and got me used to having a cock 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 seance I was

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

entered my twat to their full length, stroking in and out and round and bout

to set up me for my first roll in the hay, always momentous for a `` girl '' as I was

beginning to suppose of myself. Its funny how finger up your pussy can change

your perceptions.


John the Divine 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 base behind me at just the veracious hight to

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

puss, 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 press, and then his cockhead just slid through with an in or so below

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


I experienced some little pain, but his preparation had done the job, and after a

duet of second for my body to conform, he began to slowly exercise his full-of-the-moon distance

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

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

clip fully in me, for a duet of minutes to get me used to a pussy full moon, then

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

still slightly painful, as well as getting my deeper intestine used to the encroachment

of concentrated meat. After a few minute of this, and after all annoyance stopped as he

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

his cockhead in all the time. He speeded up his separatrix 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 payload of nerve onto the sheets,

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

'' Rode The Tiger '', all the fourth dimension fucking me intemperately and faster, till I had another,

less vivid but often longer cum, gripping him with hard spasms of my twat and

taking him over the border into his. My intestine getting a wooden-headed coating of his sperm,

enough to spend a penny respective sister if I had had the properly equipment.


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

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


John stayed several more minute, fucking me twice more, by which prison term he was knackered

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

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

fondled between nooky. He knew that I had ten twenty-four hours leave left and aught to do and

that I wanted More lessons in sex. He told me that after today, he might only bring off

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

with a pair of his `` Top '' booster, to proceed My `` foundation ''. They would also add

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 earphone to call

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

he pulled out his hammer to show me. It was MUCH bigger than Johns, 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 number 1 day and could be damaged or put-off by more. But

that a good Night rest would have me gear up for fuller sessions the adjacent day.


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

taken me through my 1st stone's throw 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 ascertain me even more bored ?


I HOPED SO !

masses they were.

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