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Four years ago as a 14 year old the girl trapped inside my body was screaming to be released from her prison. I had showed up at school on the first day of my freshman year wearing a dress from my sister’s closet. I’ve never worn boys clothing since. Carrie became my new persona replacing Todd.
Psychologist Jen Robertson, herself a male to female transsexual, had taken me on as a patient less than a month into my freshman year. The thirty five year old attractive blond was at first all business. Over time I recounted my life story little by little. We chatted also about dresses, tresses and shopping and grew close. The sessions came to feel like I was chatting with my aunt.
Barely a month into my psychological therapy, I had begun hormone treatments under the care of endocrinologist Gerry Westin. Regular visits monitored my weight and blood pressure, as well as desired and undesired effects of the hormones. At my young age something more was needed. My doctor added the testosterone blocker spironolactone.
By age 18, I had become as feminine in appearance as any genetic girl. My new look had become a source of pride. Softened skin, vase like curve, and boobs had all appeared. The bone structure of my head and face also worked to my advantage.
Mark stood five foot 11 with an athletic build, sandy blond hair, pretty gray eyes and kissable full lips. I had met the twenty year old recently.
It was on a warm, late Friday afternoon. The sun was low in the sky and casting long shadows across the field. There was very little breeze. Like everyone else playing softball that evening, I was perspiring in the humid air.
I had dressed that day in blue Canyon River core tank top with white shorts and white sneakers. My wavy dark brown hair fell onto my shoulders. Dark red gloss colored my lips and birthstone earrings hung below the lobes.
Looking at the Indigo Red Timex watch on my left wrist I noted the time. It was 705. We had been playing for a little over an hour. Batting tenth in the order, I had come up to the plate just twice.
Three other girls on the field, all genetic, also batted low in the order. Cindy and I sat together canlı bahis on the team bench. Carla and Terry played on the other team.
No one knew that they were looking at a t girl. From a few feet away I felt Mark’s eyes on me. A few seconds passed slowly. Just come over and talk to me if you’re so interested I told myself. I turned and looked back. He turned away.
Mark Brenner was a quiet, and probably shy 20 year old. Maybe he had been with girls in the past or maybe he had not. I neither knew nor cared. I’ll date him I told myself. He’s gorgeous.
Finally as the game ended at dusk I decided to approach him. Walking quickly I caught up with him halfway to the road.
“Hi,” I said. “You played a good game today.”
I figured he could use a complement.
“You didn’t play poorly either.”
He referred to the catch I made and my two singles. In fact I barely had to move for the pop fly.
“Maybe it’s the tomboy in me from my younger days.”
Referring to myself this way would not betray my past as a boy. I knew that tomboy types were not rare.
We were not strangers. Two months earlier I had taken the night job stocking the store shelves. Mark was there. Though we had not spoken much I knew that he played guitar, watched very little television, preferred the Blues and adapted his I pod to play through the car radio. I knew that during his teens he and friends had formed a band. It didn’t play for any money but they had fun in the back yard.
He knew a few things about me. I talked about my sister, and my brother. He knew that I once enjoyed climbing trees and playing football in the back yard as well as playing with my dolls. I did not say that the dolls actually belonged to my sister Laura. He had seen my perky sense of humor. He knew that I enjoyed watching Burn Notice.
Reaching his car I continued walking. My own wheels were three spaces further up the road also along the edge of the grass.
“Carrie hold up a second!”
I stopped and turned back toward him.
“I was wondering if I could take you out for ice cream.”
“Sure,” I said. “Then you can bring me to that new book store.”
I bahis siteleri was excited at the prospect of going on a date with him but at the same time a little nervous. O God I thought. He will see my penis then it’s all over. I tried to think more pleasant thoughts. Maybe he’s bi. He won’t care what’s between my legs.
Tens of hours fantasizing had led to lost sleep. This slightly red eyed girl had played in bed with one imaginary friend after another. The dildo made with look and feel of a real penis enhanced the imagination.
I was sitting on the living room sofa staring out the bay window when Mark’s blue Honda pulled into the driveway. A Saturday evening out was rare for me, and then only with the girls.
Mark stood in the open door.
“Hi handsome,” I said grinning.
“Hey,” he replied. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yup,” I answered.
We walked out the door.
Back home three hours later with my detective novel in it’s white Borders shopping bag, I was not ready to count the night finished. I turned to Mark wanting a romantic evening. My lips pressed against his. My arms went around hs shoulders.
“Come inside and stay for a while.”
“Sure,” he said.
On that note, we walked inside by the front door and down the stairs where I had an HD tv. We sat close on the sofa caressing. He kissed my neck. A second kiss followed then a third and a forth. His lips moved to my cheek. Our lips came together again and this time mouths opened. Our tongues went into each other’s mouths.
He withdrew and stared.
“You’re looking at my boobs.”
As if a little shy, he blushed. Somehow I knew that he would react that way to my comment.
I pulled the medium orchid top over my head and off then reached behind and unfastened the maiden form. With a nudge of the straps it fell onto my lap.
“Wow, nice tits,” he remarked.
He put his open hands against me and rubbed the boobs gently causing the nipples to go erect.
“It feels good.”
“I’ve got something else that feels good too.”
“I’ll bet,” I answered.
I giggled nervously. I hope he doesn’t mind bum fucking bahis şirketleri me I told myself. At the same time it was exciting.
“Go for it you gorgeous hunk,” I said softly.
Encouraged, he opened my shorts pulled them down past my knees, to my feet and off. My moment of truth had arrived. Mark took hold of my panties and pulled them just far enough.
“It’s awesome!” As always, his voice was soft.
Now I knew that he was mine. His hand closed around the modest last remnant of boyhood tugging lightly.
“I never had a chick with a dick before. It’s so great!”
I leaned in for another kiss allowing him to fondle that five and a half inch penis as much as he desired. With a lot of coaxing it could still go erect.
“Can you still cum?”
“I’m afraid not,” I said frowning. “Hormones leave a person dry.”
“No matter,” he answered continuing to pull it.
The dildo had left my butt hole stretched which was a mixed blessing. Would he realize that I had been using one or think that I had been with other men?
“A dildo is a great thing to have.”
“I’ll bet,” he replied. “Did you name it too?”
I giggled. “Did you name yours?”
“Matt,” he replied quickly.
“Oh so it’s Matthew,” I teased.
“I’ve never made it with a girl before.”
“Neither have I,” I answered.
“He was real.”
Mark stripped naked leaving his clothing in a heap on the floor. Going to my knees I leaned into his cock, licked it then took it into my mouth. While my head bobbed he rubbed my shoulders. Taking my own cock in hand I kept it hard while his balls touched my chin.
My first time ever with a man, I wanted more than just a the taste of cock. I pulled back, turned facing him, and sat straddling his lap, resting my hamstrings onto my calves. Ecstasy showed in Mark’s eyes as I looked down and rode him. It was the same feeling for me.
The climax came. Viscous cum oozed from my buttocks hole and down the cheek as I withdrew from him. I cleaned myself using the paper towel roll nearby.
We had done it at last. I chose not to inquire about his little episode with Matthew, if in fact he had one.
Choice of location could bring an element of risk. Without a place to call my own, my parent’s home had to suffice. Seeking to avoid being embarrassed, I dressed quickly. The action encouraged him to dress also.
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