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

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

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

as the Irish say `` a skilful taradiddle should always improve in

the recounting ''. For the record I spent several years as a

small fry with a house full of Irish Gaelic navvies, and great

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

to chance my mother was away looking after her younger sister

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

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

during the day and pussywhipped by their wives/girlfriends in

the evening.


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

'' passion killer '' tights were the usual vesture for female child at the

fourth dimension, I had begun my pastime in daughter when stockings and

suspenders were normal ( far easier to get your manus 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 boxers and found loads of tan

stockings ( not much choice of colours then, even total darkness was rare

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

Next I found her stays and suspender belted ammunition, slips etc, and

soon sat in a deep, boned blank stays with the four suspenders

attached with those niggling triangular tabs to tan nylon stockings.


These had very niggling stretching in them so once attached they and

the boning gave a feeling of rigorous containment which I really

enjoyed. With the short suspender tabs and stockings designed to

only reach mid thigh, the foursquare bound of the corset stopped at

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

the base of my cock at the front line, giving delightful feelings,

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

slip I was wearing.


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

to `` dart '' stocking height and whiten thigh flesh, and occasionally

my own shaft, all very sexy but no pics then unless you were rich

enough to own a Polaroid.


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

up and with `` normal '' dress on swarm into the nearby mart town. As

portion would induce it I found a park berth close to the town centre

public toilets, the old surreptitious type, now sadly gone in most places.

This minuscule townspeople loo only had two trap, but I would go and translate both

doors, like any rule male.


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

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

set forward to read a in force one at the seat of the door, something

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

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

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

much later ).


My prompt reaction was to pull 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

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

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

the other snare when recital. The wanking bit I understood, but that

fingerbreadth wiggling had me. I even considered that there was a young young lady

in there, wanting to trade a jerking off for a pussy fingering ( yes I was

that naive ).


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

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

trousers, faced the division, 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 ''.


Going adjacent door took only a momment, and the threshold was locked behind me.

I found a 50ish man who put his dick in my manus 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 reaction came, so I kissed back hard with maximum lingua action.

His complimentary 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.


Breaking the kiss I whispered that I had a good place, shipping near

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

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

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

put on the corsette and stockings from the morning. As he got naked. I

started to palpate very sexy in my train and started kissing him hard again

as he explored my trunk with his custody.


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 camp for several years.

Quite a few of them had taken to it and he 'd enjoy it ever since,


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

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

Dressing, that I would become 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 ringlet, my cock stiffened as I thought of being a bottom.


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


Trully we are ruled by our cocks.


He started by showing me how to go down on his cock, controlling the penetration

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

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

push the tip of my glossa into his pee-slit. to slide my natural language under the

rooster and to always save my teeth clear of this precious nitty-gritty. Soon I was

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


He told me to slow up 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 mouth at the

end of each one, as I relaxed my suitcase on his cock to allow for 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 throat, which helped, and I really wanted to sense

his pubic hairs on my backtalk, and soon did.


All this kept him nice and hard, and got me used to having a hammer in my

mouthpiece and pharynx for extended period. Meanwhile, he was fingering ( that wiggle

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

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

entered my pussy to their replete length, stroking in and out and stave and round of golf

to set up me for my first gear piece of tail, always momentous for a `` daughter '' as I was

beginning to call up of myself. Its funny how fingers up your twat can alter

your perceptions.


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

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

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

pussycat, 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 shortsighted catamenia

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

the helmet, I was no tenacious a Virgin, but function way to being a true up `` daughter ''.


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

couple of minutes for my body to adjust, he began to slowly work his full length

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

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

time fully in me, for a couple of minutes to get me used to a puss full, then

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

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

of gruelling marrow. After a few transactions of this, and after all pain stopped as he

re-entered me, he began a slightly shorter accident, 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 thrust back into his thrusts.


Without warning, I had an intense orgasm, spilling loads of tinder onto the weather sheet,

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

'' Rode The Tiger '', all the time fucking me severe and faster, till I had another,

less acute but often retentive cum, gripping him with punishing cramp of my puss and

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

enough to make several babies if I had had the decently equipment.


Both our shaft slowly wilted after such an acute nooky, til his dropped out with

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


John stayed several more time of day, fucking me twice more, by which time he was knackered

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

get it ready for the side by side day ). That came out of our talking as we kissed and

fondled between roll in the hay. He knew that I had ten days leave left and nothing to do and

that I wanted more example 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 '' friend, to go forward My `` initiation ''. They would also bring

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


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

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

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

and I would possess fucked there and then, had not John intervened, saying that I had

been fucked enough for the number one day and could be damaged or put-off by Sir Thomas More. But

that a good nights respite would have me set up for fuller sessions the next day.


lavatory was certainly veracious about the survive bit, and I trusted him after the way he had

taken me through my foremost footprint 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 blase and finished it `` very blase '' in a different way.


Perhaps tomorrow night would find me even more bored ?


I HOPED SO !

people they were.

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