Marsha Under Cover (part 10)
How does a straight man deal with a truly beautiful cross-dresser, even when he knows her secret? I hope you enjoy this work of fiction.
––––––––––––––––––––
Marsha and I were thoroughly enjoying life as a married couple in Las Vegas. Though it was an undercover fantasy we were living, we looked forward to making it a reality soon.
Neither of us were avid gamblers, but our schedule called for us to visit a number of casinos today. We spent time hanging out around the roulette wheel and gaming tables, and ended up playing the cheap slots. We visited five casinos and dropped about $20 in each. We could have spent more; being on expense accounts, we saw no reason to. I made a point of kissing Marsha many times in public. I really loved kissing her, but said it was also to support our cover.
While the business of the Casinos was gambling, they had really great buffet meals and cheap drinks. We took advantage of much that they had to offer, but especially enjoyed the shows and opportunities to dance.
I had never liked dancing before, and felt a bit awkward, having never formally learned, but with Marsha in my arms I was determined to learn. We didn't do any of the fast modern dances, but missed few opportunities to share most of the slow dances together.
Words cannot explain how I truly felt about Marsha. While it was true that my male partner of 20 years was in my arms, what I saw was an angel in my arms. It really felt wonderful being with her and sharing everything with her.
At lunch Marsha posed some very challenging questions to me. "Bill, you make me feel wonderful and completely accepted as a woman," she said, "but I would like to know how you feel about yourself."
Not knowing exactly what to say, I responded, "I feel wonderful about being with you."
"That's not what I mean," she counted, "How do you feel about YOU?"
"I'm not sure I understand what you are asking me," I responded.
"You have stressed that I am already a woman," she said, "and I'm sure that was aimed at building my confidence. But when we are intimate, you know full well that you are not looking at a woman's body, and how does that make YOU feel?"
"When I hold you in my arms," I replied, "I know that I am holding a woman, and I feel your feminine spirit. When I see your body, I see a woman whose body does not quite align with that."
"Does any of that misalignment make you uneasy?" she asked.
"It first, but I have become more comfortable with your body," I agreed.
"Ok," continued Marsha, "I'll be more direct – when you sucked my clitty did you think you were giving a blowjob?"
"Not at all," I insisted, "I was just going down on my lady."
"That's a really nice way to look at it," Marsha agreed, "but are you sure you aren't just rationalizing?"
"I'm not sure where you are going with this," I protested, "so what if I am rationalizing – my feelings for you are completely genuine!"
"I don't doubt that your feelings are sincere," explained Marsha, "but I don't want you to feel unsure of your sexuality."
"I know that I'm completely straight," I assured her, "and see our relationship as a boy-girl relationship, with some unconventional aspects." Having said, that, I began to wonder if I had been deceiving myself.
We went to a couple more casinos after lunch, and I found myself lost in thought – realizing that Marsha was a woman, but born into the body of a man. I loved Marsha, the person, but was interacting with her male body. I knew that I loved it, but began to wonder if I was engaging in gay sex with Marsha.
"You've been strangely quiet since lunch," she said, "is there something on your mind?"
"When I was going down on you," I asked, "did you think I was giving you a blowjob?"
"No, not at all!" Marsha exclaimed, "whatever gave you that notion?"
"Your questions at lunch," I replied.
We went to one more casino before returning to the hotel. Marsha was rather silent throughout that visit. When we returned to the hotel she said, "would you wait for me down here for awhile – I'll text you when I want you to come up, ok?"
"What's this about?" I asked, "just trust me, ok?"
I went to the lounge and had a local microbrew beer while Marsha proceeded to our room. After half an hour I received her text and went up to our room.
Upon entering I was surprised to see Marty standing there, with no trace of Marsha.
"What's going on here?" I asked.
Marty approached me and put his arms around my neck, kissing my cheek. He said, "do you still see me as Marsha?"
"You don't look like Marsha," I replied, "but I know that Marsha is in there – it is kind of like you are Marsha under cover as a boy."
"Will you kiss me?" Marty asked.
In answer, I kissed Marty, closing my eyes and imagining Marsha – otherwise I would find kissing a man to be repulsive.
It was as wonderful a kiss as ever, and we remained joined for a few minutes.
"Just one more thing," Marty said, "would you please go down on me again?"
I hesitated, and Marty said, "you did it before, dear – please give me more."
Marty unzipped and took out his small cock. He moved my hand to hold his cock, which I did – it felt like Marsha, but it was Marty standing before me.
Marty pushed on my shoulders and I dropped to my knees, Marty's cock just inches from my face.
––––––––––––––––––– To be continued ...
Feel free to contact me with your comments or requests. –Bill (oral_guy_2000@yahoo.com)
Please support this website by donating to nifty.org