Cindy Laura and I

By Kachar Ricuchi

Published on Apr 29, 2020

Transgender

XVIII

Cindy arrived in the early evening. She was radiant, wearing a long silk dress and some light sandals. I could tell she was not wearing a bra as her skin and the silk were is very close contact and her nipples were well defined. Had she seen me the night of her play with Laura? Had she sensed my presence amidst the heightened levels of pleasure Laura was nursing into her folds? Isn't it true that the senses are highly aware of every noise or detail in such a state even with your eyes closed? Did my short peek gave her yet more pleasure? I do recall that it happens to me: when Laura is giving me pleasure in any form I do feel every sensation around me. Whether she is down on me or I in doggy with Laura ramming into me, I need my mouth or hands to do their own thing to ride with her and appease the sensations of her ministrations. So if my dick is hard in her mouth my hands are usually on her head but my mouth is gasping for contact and that is when I wish I myself had someone to suck, be into the depths of some cunt or softly sliding on a girl's shaft.

I recall that I have not properly introduced myself. You know Laura and Cindy, but not me. My name is Claire. I am now 27 years old. You know now that I was a boy and I was a girl and I am now a woman (I was never a man). As I girl I have kept my boy parts. They are too precious to me. I always appreciated them, even as a boy. I used them widely and were a central part in my arousal first with boys, as I told you earlier, and later with girls. You know how they brought me pleasure as a young stud, relying often of the interest on the size of my dick. I was not ready to loose that and I saw no problem being a girl with it. At about fifteen years old the boys started getting really aggressive. My approach to sex kept on being a more pleasurable, soul-driven and soft affair. Late a good deal of consciousness came into it, more so with Yoga. So I sought sex somewhere else. It was not difficult to reach and be able to have sex with girls. They provided that romantic dynamic that I yearned. And they were amazed by my loving skills. I realized that I started a tendency to take a liking to the ways girls would behave, how they would dress and how they would take care of themselves. I seriously asked myself how I would wish to develop my sexual identity in the future. Liking girls was clearly not sufficient in my physical form (but mentally femenine). I really wanted to like girls as a girl. I was then ready to start a switch in all my habits in the realm of relationships since I would present myself as female.

XIX

I started shaving early. My first pubescent hair in legs and thighs was swiftly removed; I was about twelve. I really did not like it at all. Still a boy. At school the lack of hair made sense in my smallish body frame. I was still a part of the sex games. Until I decided it not to be. Then I avoided the soft hair around my nipples, plucking the few ones that dared pop up. And I kept my pubic hair away. Thankfully hair in my face was slow to come. I knew I would have to decide soon if it would need the help of hormones to keep all the hair away, and, more importantly, if I really wanted to grow breasts. I really cherished the idea of having breasts, albeit small ones with perhaps puffy nipples, a trait that turns me on a lot. Then I would be able to wear bras knowing there was something to grasp; I was already wearing small bras for effect. Not that I got especially turned on by flat-chested girls; I just wanted some myself. I like all kinds of tits really, but I would try to avoid implants at all costs.

So I applied the patch when I was 15 years old and the important decision had been made: to live as a girl. I wanted to come out to the family and hope for acceptance. I wanted to keep my boy parts and hope my erections would not dwindle with the hormones. I really wanted my cock to be part of my feminine equation, so to be able to attract females in my same shape, but mostly, I wished them with a deep feminine instinct. So you could say my choice was more cultural than genetics at play, which certainly contributed to my looks and my sexual tastes. I just was aware that the desire to live as a woman did not come from a very early age as happens in many other cases of transgender people. This said, no matter what my family thought about the issue, society is often not kind to people who belong to the queer category, encompassing gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender as me. Therefore it was my task to navigate the social morass of prejudice and rejection with care. Not an easy task.

Next: Chapter 11


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