Summer in Touch An anonymous gay transvestite tale Not Copyrighted
I
I was 18. Home from college for the summer. My 3 older brothers were out on their own, and my wealthy parents had just left for a two month vacation cruise. The house was silent. I took a breath, knowing the joy of unrestrained freedom. Time for a solo sex video!
My parents took the new digital video camera with them, but the old Hi8 one still worked. I closed the lace curtains of the living room, set up the tripod, and put a blank tape in the camcorder. The house was silent. I stood before the lens and used the remote control to begin taping. The fold-out screen on the camcorder helped me stay where I wanted in the image. After a deep breath, I slowly stripped off my clothes. The camera captured the gentle daylight on my sleek pink body.
For the next forty minutes I performed a simple erotic "story"--one guy getting naked and masturbating all through the house. I liked to switch from wide angle to close-ups often. I found the best, most natural camera height to be at standing eye-level. No shot lasted more than 25 seconds, which meant a lot of starting, stopping, and fussing with tape position. My hot pink cock kept dripping with thin strings of pre-come, so I had to keep tissues handy. I loved doing these tapes!
After my faked orgasm on the basement pool table, I rewound the tape. We had a big screen TV in the basement, so I hooked up the camera. I was already naked, so I reclined on the soft white couch and got a handful of tissues. The 18 minute tape began playing as I brushed my long black hair back from my eyes. Since the tape was made in daylight, the video signal was strong and clear. I just loved watching my beautiful body move around so freely. Masturbation felt so right like this--more naughty than a completely private fantasy. The chance I could be caught, or someone else might see the tape added to my excitement.
I watched myself pose, jack off, adopt "gay" positions, and close my eyes with a smile. Since I was alone in the house, I moaned and breathed hard in my performance. I was such a queer! It was so nice to play once again with video. Before that day, I had only been able to make secret tapes in my bedroom. Seeing my nude body in all the halls and rooms was a wonderful new turn-on. I especially loved my long, long legs and tight, gorgeously rounded ass. My cock head was completely slippery from pre-come now, and I tasted it with my fingers and tongue. Oh Yes...
I came close twice to orgasm, but knew it would be even better if I held off. Eventually, I had to have it! It may sound strange to those who have never experienced it, but when I reach this level of... Goodness... I hear the Tone. A soft, high, clear G note fades in as my penis reaches maximum sensitivity. To the sound of my breath from the big screen, I jacked off hard, pumping fast and flying higher with no apparent effort. I saw myself posing from the side, on my hands and knees, with my back arching down. Orgasm... A breath... My body here and there... Coming, oh God, my legs on fire. Oh YES!
The waves subsided. Whoa. I closed my eyes and tasted come. I caught my breath, in no hurry to clean up. I opened my eyes and happily watched the last two minutes of my Summer Video Project. Life was good.
II
I kept making fun queer videos for the next three days. Since I had a computer, I was able to feed in the videos for compression and encrypting. Then I recorded over the original tape. The thrill of 24 hour-a-day video freedom was wearing off a little though. At sunset I was doing a little scene in my parent's bedroom, and happened to notice my Mom's pastel blue silk mini-robe on the hat rack. I set up the camera, then approached it. Little did I realize how important the next few moments would be.
I wasn't hurting anyone. There wasn't anything "wrong" about what I was about to do. But my heart was beating fast. I knew this was a clear line I was about to step over. I swallowed, then took the simple, feminine robe from the rack. It didn't weigh a thing. Very naturally, I put it on, having to raise my arms for each sleeve. Oh God! The silk! It felt so cool as it slipped down around me. I had always worn boy clothes, and had never imagined anything could be this wonderful. I forgot about the camcorder. The silk fluttered around my bottom as I took a few steps to the mirrored sliding closet doors. I couldn't believe how beautiful I looked, and how incredibly special I felt. I was turned on beyond belief, but beneath it all, there was... Peace.
I began posing like a girl, with hands on hips pushing the sides of the robe back. I pushed my genitalia back between my legs, so all I saw was my thick bush. Wow. This experience was a profound blessing. Her shining silk matched my every move, and delighted my skin with its cool, smooth caress. This was amazing. My brain felt like cotton, if that makes any sense. All of a sudden, I was aware of a deeper part of my soul. My girlhood. And I loved it immediately.
There I was, wearing women's clothing for the first time. My dick was extremely hard. Now I was one of "those" people. Realizing I was gay was an ordeal, but this new facet of sexuality was a revelation. I walked over to the camera and said, "Wow." with a wide eyed grin. With a beep, I turned it off.
I had to try on more things. Before people think I was getting off on wearing my Mother's clothes, I have to say it never entered my mind. To me, they were just female clothes. The only ones I had access to. Since my mom was 43 and in good shape, her clothes were the perfect size for me.
I gracefully slipped out of the delicate robe. As I returned it to the rack, I realized how feminine my moves were. How could clothes have such power?
The mirrored door slid back to reveal a closet stuffed with dresses and suits. The rod sagged from all the weight. I picked out an elegant black dinner dress, then pulled it free, causing the ten hangers on either side to tilt up from the ridiculous pressure of the other clothes.
I unzipped the back of the dress and removed the hanger, laying it on the bed. I smiled as I held up the beautifully simple size 8 dress. Velvet. I dried off the tip of my dick so I wouldn't leave any evidence behind, then figured out how to put on this wonderful thing.
It felt so right to step into the top of the unzipped dress, then pull the straps up and over my shoulders. The breast area easily took on the right shape. I was in another, better world as I reached back to zip up. I looked up into the mirror. There I was, beautiful. Elegant. Even my long hair looked feminine, and the way it matched the dress was divine. My golden arms looked so perfect. My first dress!
Feeling very feminine, I delicately reached up my left hand to brush my hair back. I felt tingly all over. This was magic. I took another deep breath, marveling at my reflection. Then I took a step.
My God. Why didn't everyone wear dresses? The freedom was incredible. My long legs moved, unrestricted by the awkward confinement provided by thick denim. All I felt was the velvety flowing softness and the gentle elastic pull of a wide band around my waist. My ass and legs were One under the wonderful dress. Oh! It was great.
I knew how the rest of my summer would go. I took one last fabulous look at myself, then took off the dress. I carefully returned it to the closet, then started a bubble bath in the master bathroom. I got a disposable razor from my room, then settled in the hot soapy water.
III
My Mom's perfumed bubble bath sustained my girlish mood as I began stroking the razor down my legs. It took a long time to finish, but it was so much fun to fully concentrate on this womanly task that time didn't matter. I felt my legs as I went along, making sure the smoothness was complete. As the hair disappeared, my legs felt kind of invisible beneath the water. Interesting.
As long as I was here, I shaved my arms, hands, and chest. I had never shaved my pubic hair, so I left my complete mound intact. The suds had all disappeared and the cloudy water was cooling down. I opened the drain and watched the tub water flow away. There was so much hair in the drain, I had to unblock it after a few minutes. I kneeled and kept the drain clear as the water swirled down. My smooth, wet thighs felt incredibly sensual when they touched. What had I just done?
I showered off the stray hairs and soap film with the handheld, then rinsed all the debris toward the chrome drain. The running water felt fantastic as it ran down my sleek body. Without body hair, it immediately beaded up when I moved the spray away. I turned off the shower, then gently toweled myself dry. Feeling so queer and feminine, I gracefully stepped from the tub to the light blue floor mat.
When the water was done dripping, I mopped up the drain hair with some toilet paper, then put it in the toilet. Everything was clean now. Even though I only had to shave every three days, I used a new razor on my face, just to be complete. There I was, smooth in the warm moist air.
I had read some transvestite stories on the internet, and they always amused me. Most guys had their first experience right at puberty, some even having their first orgasm seeing themselves dressed. And now it was happening to me. All of a sudden, I had new respect for those guys... My... sisters? Yeah.
Anyway. I knew I would be having sex tonight. I don't know how I controlled myself as I wore the robe and dress earlier. Now that my mind was clear, I decided to make this night truly special. I had to be completely female for this to work. There was a makeup table and mirror in the bedroom. Time to check it out.
I went to my Mother's lingerie drawer. The stuff wasn't carefully arranged, so I knew I could choose anything and she wouldn't know it had been moved. I daringly selected a pair of black panties and a tiny black bra. I checked to see if the panties were easily washable. Yep. Good. I dug around in the wide drawer and came up with a sheer, translucent white slip. Beautiful.
Mmmm, how can I describe the ecstasy of my first panties? Why did boys and men put up with normal, thick cotton underwear when this was available? They stretched to fit me perfectly. I had to swallow and catch my breath when I saw how perfect they made my buns look.
It took awhile to put on my first bra, since the hooks were hard to connect in back. I studied my reflection as I centered the bra and shaped the lacy cups. I slowly shook my head to make my hair wave and fall right, just like a woman. This was all coming so naturally... I loved it. Even though I was gay, the magical presence of my feminine self was a turn on. Truthfully, this was even cooler than vanilla homosexuality. I had to laugh when I knew I was no longer a "straight" gay guy. I believe that was the first moment I tasted the Power of the feminine.
I stuffed the bra with some crumpled-up tissues. There was no stopping me as I delicately ascended into the see-through slip. I waved my head and hair again, and saw myself, so beautiful. My cock was aching now.
I sat at the makeup table and turned on the ten globe lights around the mirror. I couldn't believe how great I looked. People had always noticed (and punished me for) my sissy qualities, but now they were a priceless asset. The realization hit me--I really was girlish. How lucky! I hadn't gotten a haircut for two years, and knew I would always wear it long from now on. It would feel so cool to have it touch my shoulderblades someday.
The top shelf smoothly slid open, revealing a profusion of brushes, makeup cases, nail polish bottles, and old lipsticks. I inhaled the wonderfully light, waxy fragrance and closed my eyes at how lovely it was. I had no idea where to begin, so I went for the most feminine thing--mascara.
I read the instructions on the bottle, then opened it up. Using the cap as a handle, I gently raised the curled brush to my left upper eyelashes. I blinked a few times, then applied the black Maybelline mascara. It really made my lashes stand out, and the brush separated each lash perfectly. It felt so cool to learn how to do this, being careful not to touch my eyelids. Soon my lashes were done.
Somehow I knew lipstick should be last, so I found a glossy black Cover Girl case of eye shadow. How I loved these brand names! The colors were all subtle beige. I used a tiny white brush and began filling in under my eyebrows. My mind readily accepted the challenge of brushing the color onto my closed eyelids. The pressure of the gentle brush felt so good on my eyes. When I opened them, the effect was incredible. The soft, neutral beige made my blue eyes... dazzle. I loved putting on makeup, and telling myself exactly what I was doing as I went!
There was a large white circular container made of pearly plastic. I opened the gold hinge to see a powder puff atop a cake of light pink. This was truly a gay thing to do, but I thoroughly enjoyed applying a bit of powder to my nose and cheeks. My old male identity was far away by now. I took the biggest black brush from the shelf and used its soft downy bristles to evenly spread the powder around my... pretty... face. Pretty. I had never felt that way before.
Which lipstick to choose? There were at least 18 tubes available. For the first time, I understood why women placed such importance on Color. Variety in clothing and makeup is a necessity! What would go good with... I hadn't decided on an outfit yet. Oh well, I was sure I could match the clothes to the lipstick. Now my mind was using feminine logic.
The deep burgundy shade in the gold and black tube looked versatile. I had only seen women in movies put on lipstick, and hadn't paid much attention. Now I had to do it for real. I found the tube base twisted to make the lipstick rise out. Ingenious. The fragrance was intoxicating. It was like my Life was beginning anew, right here. Gently, I touched it to my warm, soft lips. The color went on the ridges, then, surprisingly, the wonderful double lip-rubbing move happened instinctively. My wet dick softened, and I forgot about it inside my panties.
The lipstick looked even now. I moved my lips around some more to cover the two millimeters on the upper right edge I missed. There. I was... Really... Right there. The globe lights around the mirror made me look stunningly gorgeous. Me. This lovely creature was Me. I felt the beautiful inner storm that brews right before crying. I sniffed and blinked, wondering at the profound depths I had discovered inside.
IV
I had no name. I was just a woman. The Female. At one with my true nature. Connected, at last, deeply to the living Universe. I didn't mind the little mascara streaks from my tears. I was okay. I tasted a salty tear as it rolled into the corner of my perfect lips. One perfect expression of the oceanic unity I now knew. My deep blue eyes blinked and I recovered myself, purified from the cleansing cry. My face cleaned up easily with some gentle buffing from a tissue. I blinked and smiled at my softly lit reflection.
Time for nail polish. I examined my fingernails, and knew they needed shaping and filing. Another detailed task ahead! My short nails quickly improved.
'I really should get a full manicure and pedicure some day,' I thought with a smile.
I chose a light pink coral polish, and proceeded to paint it on. ALL of this makeup and pampering was wonderful. There was so much creativity involved. It was so nice to take care of myself on this level. The glamorous results came so easy too. Just like in the movies, I gently blew on my nails to help them dry. They shined like jewels.
I felt so peaceful and... vulnerable in my state. I put the makeup away and closed the shelf. I turned from the mirror and crossed my legs, knee over knee. My hairless legs looked and felt so good. The toenail polish almost made me blush with embarassment, but I soon realized the new feeling was giddy joy. Here I was. Female. I felt fine with each soft breath.
Trembling slightly, I stood up and walked toward the mirrored wall of closets. Now I walked like a girl. My God, how much of this had I been repressing? My outrageous look was suddenly hard to believe as my male perception began to emerge. What a day!
Going by color, I selected a skirt and jacket that matched my nails. Wow. My Mom had good taste. I found a classy long-sleeved white top, made from shiny satin. Choosing such "normal", conservative clothes made my deliciously twisted deviance all the more evident.
I quickly put on the wonderful outfit. I looked so good in just the skirt and top. I put on the lightweight, feminine jacket. Needless to say, I had never worn anything quite so well tailored. I arranged the shoulder pads, then pulled my bra down and back into proper, ladylike position. Freely, I walked around the bed room. My hips swayed and my wrists went limp as I stopped and posed every so often. How cool.
I turned on the video camera and aimed it at the mirror wall. I zoomed in for a medium shot. I went over to stand in the frame with my reflection behind me. I began recording.
"Hello. I am a girl. Today is... my... real birthday."
I blinked and gazed into the lens. With a confident smile, I blew a gentle kiss, then stopped recording.
Acting quickly on an excellent idea, I set up the camera parallel to the mirror wall, then zoomed in tight. Checking the little screen, I positioned myself to record a slow profile mirror kiss. Then another. My lipstick stayed behind. Right there I decided to make my first feminine video, then enjoy another big screen orgasm.
I taped myself strutting all through the house. I did a series of fashion model catwalks through the longest hallway, tilting the camera to show my tall, woman's body. I taped myself in front of the makeup mirror, accessorizing with my Mom's collection of sunglasses and bracelets, then applying more lipstick. I found a five strand choker of tiny pearls, and it took my look to a whole new plane.
Eventually I found my way down to the white couch in the finished basement. With the camera thirty feet away, I zoomed to the right half of the couch, so my whole body would be in focus in the compressed telephoto frame. I started the camera, then walked to the couch and gracefully sat down.
In my feminine fantasy, I began massaging my breasts slowly under the jacket. I worked my way free, then began rubbing my breasts and skirt. Moaning like a woman, I unbuttoned the top and pulled it off. I lied back on the couch and lifted my ass to get out of my skirt. The slip and panties didn't last long. Then, just wearing the bra and pearls, I pumped away on my cock. I pulled my legs up so I could kiss my knees. My soft bra felt so good against the top of my smooth thighs...
I assumed the "face to face" gay lovemaking position, lying back, feet in the air, with my elbows holding my spread legs down. Smooth, feminine, queer, free... I went for it right there. I heard the Tone... The wave began. My balls exploded as the warm come shot up, out, and onto my bra.
"Ohhh!", I screamed.
I kept coming and coming, and managed to catch a few spurts in my mouth. Yes! Oh yes! I let my legs relax and fall back. My left foot limply hit the floor. What a mess. I didn't care.
"Ahhhhh. Oh yeah.", I said, catching my breath.
I turned and smiled to the camera.
"I am a girl."
V
The summer of my awakening was the greatest adventure of my life. Thank God for the internet. I wasn't alone, and every flavor of the tranny world had a clear voice. As much as I respected crossdressers, I preferred the harsher, truer term--Transvestite. Yes, I had a feminine inner nature. The peace and relaxation of dressing up was nice. But the raw charge of male sexuality added a vibrant energy and purpose that real women tended to shy away from.
I stocked up on food and spent a solid month in the house as a woman. I devoured beauty tips and fashion advice from online guides. I took some digital glamour shots and showed them around, finding an incredibly supportive reaction from the net community. Since I was the only one home, I ordered $3,000 worth of clothes, makeup, and wigs. My favorite fantasy (and video) item is a zebra-patterned leotard.
Now, six years later, I have happily become a shemale. With saline breast implants, electrolysis, and some minor facial surgery, I am beautifully passable. I live full time as a woman, growing moment by moment in holiness and awareness of the sacred. It sounds crazy, but I consider myself to have a female penis. I wouldn't dream of surgically changing such a perfectly working source of joy. It is wonderful to be a guygirl... I love myself. Peace, unity, and blessings to you all!
-A