Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I was living and working in London, my first job after college. No chance of having a place of my own with these crazy house prices and this being my first job at the age of 23, so I rented a room from a guy older than me, in his mid-30s. His name was Steve and he was a masculine type, split up from his wife but seeing a feisty Spanish woman called Manuela. There were big arguments now and again but at least the sex sounded good, if the rather loud sighs, moans, groans and shrieking I could hear most nights through the thin bedroom walls were anything to go by. Then one workday evening I came back to find Steve sitting on the sofa drinking a large whisky. “Manuela’s left me,” he blurted out. “Have a drink and sit down,” he said. I didn’t really want to but I felt a bit sorry for him, so I poured myself one and sat down next to him. “She came round during the day and moved all her stuff out,” he continued. “Well except this, it was under the bedcovers, she must have missed it,” he laughed. My attention was drawn to some unspecified black satin and lace garment next to him on the sofa. “Oh,” I said, a bit nonplussed, thinking to myself that Steve must be quite drunk. “It’s an open-crotch teddy,” he announced, holding it up right in front of my face so that I could see for myself. Sure enough, there was a large gaping slit in the material Çukurambar escort bayan of the crotch. At this distance I could even spot what were presumably splashes of her cunt juices around the edge of the slit. I couldn’t really say much, I was taken aback not just by the teddy itself and the fact that he was showing it to me, but also by the signs of recent sexual activity and the fact that Manuela would even wear something as slutty as this. She didn’t seem the type. You never know! Then Steve dropped his bombshell. Leaning over and looking very intently into my eyes he ordered, “Put it on!” “What?” I cried. “Put it on!” He was serious, drunk but deadly serious. “I – I can’t,” I stammered. “Yes you can,” he replied, “you will like it.” By now he had grabbed my arm, I felt frightened, so I said quietly “no” and slipping out of his grasp went quickly into my room, locking the door. There were a few knocks on the door, then silence. The rest of the evening passed slowly, I was too scared to come out of my room. But yes, I was turned on. While I still lived with my mother I would secretly dress up in my sister’s clothes, then later my mother’s clothes herself. I was a classic crossdresser, the oldest son, a strong female figure was running the family, there was no male influence as my Escort demetevler mother was a single parent. I thought I’d managed to give it up when I went to college, but now the old urges were back with a vengeance. I lay in bed, playing with my raging hard-on, imagining how the sexy lace and satin would feel stretched over my shoulders, belly, hips, buttocks, how dirty I would feel with my erect penis sticking out of the open crotch and my tight virgin arsehole exposed too. If I’d tried it on maybe I’d have taken Manuela’s place in Steve’s bed, being fucked by him while wearing the same slutty costume she used to wear when he fucked her. Then another fantasy came to me, one I would even maybe put into practice.The next morning I waited till Steve had gone to work before coming out of my room. The teddy was still there on the sofa, I picked it up and stroked the sexy material, lifted it to my nose and breathed in Manuela’s pungent scent. The urge to try it on was overwhelming, but I somehow resisted. I phoned in sick to work, got dressed and after waiting a bit of time for the shops to open went out shopping. And what a shopping trip – I had decided to embrace my crossdressing tendencies fully, and submit to the wanton desires that would bring, it was time to start building up a wardrobe. dikmen escort Nothing from a sex-shop though, I was shopping in Topshop, H&M, Miss Selfridges, Debenhams, even Harrods. Real shops selling real women’s clothing full of real women buying it up. And me too. The experience was liberating, by lunchtime I had bought a little black dress, a short flowery flared summer dress, a pink baby doll nightdress set, black lacy suspenders, bra and panties, a white basque and matching thong, a flowery bra and panty set, various sheer stockings, some with seams, some with lacy tops, fishnets, a black miniskirt, a pink and a white blouse, high heeled strappy silver sandals, black shiny slingbacks, makeup, perfume, jewellery, 2 wigs – one long and blond, one dark in a bobbed style, and a large tube of KY Jelly. I got it all back home, then went out again and bought some food, before texting Steve to tell him I’d cook tonight. “That’s good!” came his reply quickly, maybe he still felt embarrassed about last night. So back home again and now it’s time to get ready. First of all an anal douche using the shower, I feel very clean afterwards, it’s a strange feeling sitting on the toilet peeing like a woman but it’s water squirting out of your arsehole. Then a bath and shave all over. I’m not very hairy but even so the feeling of my smooth freshly shaved legs brushing together as I walk is incredible. My bare smooth cock, balls, mound and arsehole feel great too, it’s all I can do to stop myself from wanking off. Then on with the makeup, and nail varnish for both fingers and toes. Some jewellery, perfume, then the black bobbed wig. Now I’m ready to get dressed.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32