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

strongly based on my for the first time experience of `` dressing '' and

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

as the Irish say `` a in effect tarradiddle should always better in

the telling ''. For the platter I spent several year as a

child with a mansion full of Irish whisky peon, and groovy

Back in the lately 1960 's I came dwelling on leave from the Army

to see my female parent was away looking after her jr. babe

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

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

during the day and pussywhipped by their wives/girlfriends in

the evening.


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

'' passion Orcinus orca '' tights were the usual wear for girl at the

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

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

girls pants 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 pants and found lots of tan

stockings ( not much option of colours then, even black was rare

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

Next I found her corsets and suspender smash, skid etc, and

soon sat in a trench, boned albumen corset with the four suspender

attached with those little triangular tablet to tan nylon stockings.


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

the boning gave a feeling of nasty containment which I really

enjoyed. With the short suspender tablet and stockings designed to

only reach mid thigh, the public square edge of the stays stopped at

the bottom of the inning of my arse cheeks at the keister and pressed hard on

the floor of my peter at the front man, giving delicious impression,

the unanimous thing had me bone hard, which tented the whiten silky

slip I was wearing.


For an hr or more, I sat in front of a mirror, moving my stage

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

my own tool, all very sexy but no motion-picture show then unless you were rich

enough to own a Polaroid.


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

up and with `` normal '' clothes on drove into the nearby marketplace town. As

lot would throw it I found a park place close to the town kernel

public toilets, the old subway type, now sadly gone in about places.

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

doors, like any formula male.


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

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

set forward to read a skilful one at the underside of the door, something

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

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

but at the fourth dimension Did n't understand the finger's breadth ( I found out not very

much later ).


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

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

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

the other ambuscade when indication. The wanking bit I understood, but that

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

in there, wanting to swop a jacking off for a twat fingering ( yes I was

that naive ).


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

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

trousers, faced the sectionalization, and put one foot slightly under the gap

at the fanny. my foot was tapped and soon a banknote passed under, saying

'' CUM IN HERE ''.


leaving next room access took only a momment, and the door 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 thinking, finding it very enjoyable before any

bad reaction came, so I kissed back tough with maximum tongue action.

His free people paw 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.


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

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

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

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

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

started to feel very sexy in my geared wheel and started kissing him concentrated again

as he explored my body with his deal.


On the driving force up I had asked him to instruct 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 clique 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 ass and expected

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

fertilisation, that I would get a `` Bottom '' who would go down on hammer and choose 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 ilk THAT, MY NEW PLACE IN animation WAS DECIDED ! !


Trully we are ruled by our cocks.


He started by showing me how to suck his stopcock, controlling the incursion

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

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

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

hammer and to always keep open my dentition elucidate of this precious meat. Soon I was

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


He told me to retard 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 back talk at the

end of each one, as I relaxed my grip on his cock to allow 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 palpate

his pubic haircloth on my rim, and soon did.


All this kept him dainty and hard, and got me used to having a peter in my

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

again ) my arsehole with some lubricating substance ( by the end of the seance I was

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

entered my puss to their replete length, stroking in and out and round and round

to set up me for my world-class shag, always momentous for a `` lady friend '' as I was

beginning to think of myself. Its funny how fingers up your slit can change

your perceptions.


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

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

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

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

a turd out ( which, perhaps counter-intuitively, opened my kitty-cat up ). A short period

of pressing, 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 genuine `` lady friend ''.


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

duet of minutes for my physical structure to align, he began to slowly puzzle out his entire distance

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

the hairs that had tickled my Kuki-Chin, now tickled my cheeks. Again he paused, this

sentence fully in me, for a couple of instant to get me used to a pussy good, then

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

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

of hard essence. After a few moment of this, and after all pain stopped as he

re-entered me, he began a slightly inadequate 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 push back into his thrusts.


Without warning, I had an intense coming, spilling loads of spunk onto the canvass,

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

'' Rode The tiger '', all the prison term fucking me gruelling and faster, till I had another,

less intense but much foresighted cum, gripping him with hard spasms of my pussy and

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

enough to fix respective babies if I had had the rightfield equipment.


Both our hammer slowly wilted after such an vivid 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 than hour, fucking me twice more, by which time he was knackered

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

get it gear up for the succeeding day ). That came out of our talking as we kissed and

fondled between shag. He knew that I had ten days leave left and nil to do and

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

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

with a couple of his `` Top '' supporter, to continue My `` innovation ''. They would also lend

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


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

one of those champion, Sam, to piece him up. he came in briefly and after innovation,

he pulled out his hammer to show me. It was MUCH bounteous than Gospel According to John, and I think Sam

and I would have fucked there and then, had not Gospel According to John 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 rest would have me ready for fuller school term the adjacent day.


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

taken me through my first of all 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 unlike way.


Perhaps tomorrow night would find me even more tire ?


I HOPED SO !

people they were.

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