The Intimate Liaison
You would think being at home all day while the wife works would give me all the time in the world to indulge myself as Michaella but not so. Being a closet crossdresser with a f****y and home to look after is OK but a great number of friends and f****y call in knowing I’m at home and always good for a cup of coffee and a chat. Take this morning for instance my friend Steve phoned and warned me that he may be calling in on his way home from the town, but he did ask if I was busy. It is always good to see him, we go back a long way and even if I were busy I would always find time for him. So I had at least one visitor to look forward to today, I had better get busy, there are a lot of chores to get through as well as a little self indulgence. I know; I’ll change into my girlie things and get busy cleaning the place up, but I’ll slip on a nylon housecoat over the top while I clean. First though I must get changed. I cannot put on the shoulder length wig or apply make up, as I may have to get changed quickly back into my male clothes. A shame, but part of the price of being in the closet so to speak. I had mixed emotions about what to wear, I was feeling very feminine but tarty as well and this reflected my choice of clothes. Not having a lot to choose from anyway I opted for a corsellette that was way to small for me but it had the advantage of holding in and flattening my stomach while at the same time giving me some boobs! After tucking my maleness under myself I struggled with the hook and eye fastening at the crotch and was pleased by the end result of nothing visible but a flattened area where seconds ago a respectable sized male sex had been. Looking in the mirror my body had changed shape too and I liked what I saw. Choosing black seamed nylon stockings these were carefully attached to the three suspenders at the top of each leg, a backward glance in the mirror proved that once again the seams ran straight up enviably long legs. Continuing to get dressed and continuing to get turned on I reach out for a micro kilt next and that slips on nicely followed by a dark green roll neck jumper, finally putting on a pair of 4” black court shoes onto feet too large to be female.
The touch, the feel, the restrictiveness of some of the female clothing that I have on makes me want to caress and stroke myself. Lower my hands go as they glide over my now flat stomach, and further down my silken restrained groin stirs. I must stop as I have work to do, time for this later I tell myself. I check myself on the way out of my bedroom, yes, smart but tart. I give myself a look that only a man can give a woman. I start with those high heels, up long legs to that oh so short red kilt that really should give up the struggle of trying to hide the top of those stockings, and all this is topped by the green jumper which gives an air of respectability … just.
Now to work. The sound of the heels click clacking across the hard surface of the kitchen floor sound so feminine to my ears. I put on a blue patterned nylon housecoat to protect my clothing. The first job must be the sink. Careful not to bend, but to squat knees together I delve into the cupboard under the sink to get some cleaner and rubber gloves. A soft swishing of nylon accompanies all of my movements that I try to make more feminine when dressed this way. The pink rubber gloves go on after a struggle and I prepare to do battle with the kitchen sink. “Oh no the f**king doorbell!!!” I curse aloud. Suddenly in panic totter across the kitchen, what am I doing, flashes of guilt and lots of oh no’s, I race in to my bedroom. Gloves off, shoes off, jumper off, jeans on, trainers on and a big manly looking jumper last of all. I grab the front door “hi Steve, sorry mate, come in … you’re early, kettles on” Phew! I feel flushed and slightly frustrated as we walk through to the kitchen for the promised cup of coffee.
We talk about usual things. Little does he know, I thought feeling slightly embarrassed. Adding to my embarrassment I rub my leg and feel one of the suspender clips, which causes a little stir down below. It’s no good I tell myself I’m going to have to change out of the female clothes. I’m sure he can tell. I make an excuse and leave the kitchen, back in my bedroom I sit on the side of the large king-size bed and ponder what am I going to do? I tell myself he cannot detect anything other than my usual clothing and return, nervous but more confident. We go in to the lounge and carry on talking. After a while I laughingly tell Steve that I’m going to a fancy dress party … as a tart! He nearly choked, which slightly dented my ego, but I continued nonetheless. To his credit he took this bit of news more seriously when he saw that I meant it. Asking if I had any clothes to wear, he said that he had a French maid’s uniform, well you could have knocked me down with a feather duster! Telling him what I had in mind he was curious to see what I might look like and suggested that private viewing might be nice. My pulse was racing and my throat was tightening. I was not ready for this, NO WAY. I sat there feeling nervous, Steve is probably the only person I could trust to come out to. If I had to completely change clothing I think I may have said NO but I still had on women’s undies. I told my friend to be prepared for a shock and to give me a few minutes while I change and tart myself up a bit. On going into my bedroom I looked around, what a mess, rubber gloves, shoes etc. strewn all around, I never noticed on my last visitation probably because my head was spinning. Well girl what are you going to do? I picked up some clothing to tidy it up and had a change of heart and kicked my trainers off, yes, I said to myself, almost as if I meant it! Putting on the last of the clothing I had on earlier I lightly applied some makeup, then I removed my one and only wig from it’s hiding place and popped it on. Checking myself in the full length mirror I blew myself a kiss for good luck and realised I was getting turned on by what I saw and probably the situation I was getting into. Returning to the lounge door I almost turned around but was glad I didn’t when after pushing it open I was treated to the low whistle of a man appreciating what he saw. If that didn’t boost my ego then the compliments that Steve spoke to me certainly worked wonders, I was beginning to feel shy under the penetrating glances he was giving me. Sensing this he suggested that I ought to be more confident and what if a stranger came up and mistook me for a girl, how would I react. I needed some lessons on men from a girl’s point of view. This was all going to quickly and my mind was in a whirl of emotions. Sitting down most correctly across from Steve I built up the courage to confess to him my desire to crossdress and that there was no fancy dress party. I began to cry quite openly during my confession mostly because of the relief of telling someone and was just reaching out for a tissue when through my tears I saw shape of Steve coming closer. He gently put his arm around me and said all of the right things. After a while I had got back some composure, I hadn’t had a good cry for ages! I actually wanted to be held by his strong arms, I was feeling small and I wanted to be wanted. He was playing the part of the perfect gentleman, the bastard. I wanted to be taken advantage of… men, I thought, will they never understand! Steve put an arm around me again and began to speak in soothing low whispers in my ear. Feeling washed out after my good cry I needed to hear and feel him near me and incredibly I was melting to his charms, I put up no resistance when I felt his other hand on my stockinged knee. At last this boy is getting the message. I had a stirring in my cock that was beginning to bother me, as it was growing rapidly uncomfortable in the tight confines of the crotch of the corsellette. The whisperings in my ear were gaining in their urgency and they were working! I yielded some more and my legs seemed to part slightly further of their own accord than what was decent. The cool touch of his hand above my stocking tops made my flesh tingle and scream. The inside of my left thigh was being touched and lovingly caressed by somebody the same sex as I and I was loving it. Right then my senses were screaming at me, going crazy, electric flashes before my eyes, the pounding of my pulse in my ears. I was a squirming writhing female with a cock, thoughts racing, imagination fired, I wanted so much. I had such strange feelings, feelings that I had never before felt or experienced, yet it in all this turmoil there was a quiet place inside of me where it all felt so natural. Giving up the pretense of resistance and respectability I slid to the floor and knelt between his legs, my head was quickly gripped and brought down to his clothed crotch. I breathed in his scent, his maleness and kissed the area of his genitals, relaxing I could have stayed like that for a long time. Steve’s hips gently rising and falling in a sexual way broke the spell. I rubbed the imprisoned hardness and knew it must be getting uncomfortable for him. I was getting so turned on by this strange scenario that I took to my role of playing the tart so well that it did not worry me when I leaned forward and playfully bit his erection through his jeans. Reaching behind me I took his trainers and socks off, Steve meanwhile wasted no time in undoing his belt and fly, so releasing a long slender uncircumcised cock not unlike mine. Favouring it’s warmth in my hand I gently pulled down the foreskin to reveal it’s soft velvety head, which I knew very soon it would be getting some close attention from me. The novelty of being allowed to breathe in the smell and the sight that was before me as I knelt there was truly mouthwatering. Again I felt a persistent pressure being applied to the back of my head but this time I was to taste another mans sex. Offering no resistance I opened my mouth to receive this hard flesh for the first time. I gripped its base and guiding it in accepted half it’s length along my tongue. Closing my lips and forming a vacuum I raised my head until once again I stared in mixed fascination at its now glistening beauty. It begged to be adored again. Squeezing a little harder at the base of his manhood I dipped my head to the pleasure of both of us. A moan arose from above me “oh yes, my little tart”. Tasting his pre - cum was delicious and tender experience and spurred on my more feminine feelings to new heights. I was a female in mind if not in body and I wanted him. I wanted as much from this as I could take, and I wanted it all. Growing in confidence I was taking control of the situation. Rocking back on my heels I looked up at this man on the verge of coming - he was so desperate and I had the key to his release. I was feeling a power within me I had not known before and could not even have guessed about but there was no doubting it. I could play this any way I wanted but I wanted to be submissive this time. I wanted to be taken. I was ready to be taken.
Steve lay down on the carpet and looked up at me. The cheeky so and so was looking up my skirt! And what is more, he was playing with himself! With one hand he stroked and massaged his erection the other he reached out to me, so standing astride his head I gave him what he wanted. He sucked in his breath and caressed my groin much as a man would to a female partner. His hand sliding on the silkiness, down and around, rubbing more urgently, the friction working its wondrous way into the nerves of my constrained erection. I sighed with a contentment not felt before. Steve taking this as a sign that his actions were having the desired effect rubbed more earnestly further round underneath me, the pressure he was applying causing the material to be pressed between my buttocks. His persistent fingering around that area soon found my secret place. I crumbled, I thought I was going to come, it felt as though my legs would give up their brave fight to keep me upright. I had to lie down and quickly to. Taking a faltering step or two backwards I sat provocatively astride his erection causing it to rub against my pubic area as I lay down. With a few deft moves his hot cock was between my thighs trapped in a nylon prison. Hotly whispering his intentions into my ear made me squirm and I rotated my hips in response, which caused Steve to reply by thrusting his hard flesh against mine. So intense were my feelings at this moment that I would have done anything for this person that was taking me to never before dreamt of heights of ecstasy. Steve rolled me over onto my back and I assumed the posture of a woman about to receive hard maleness into her body. He now lay between my thighs and reaching back he grasped my legs below my knees and lifted them towards my chest making me vulnerable to his further actions. Steve’s thrusting took on a new urgency. It was becoming clear to me that all this may soon end so I was determined to take a more active role to try and prolong these wondrous feelings I was getting. The rubbing of his hard cock on my pubic area was speeding up. Questions were whirling around my head, what should I do? Instinctively I wormed my hand between our writhing bodies to where he was intently rubbing that gorgeous cock across the silken panels sewn onto my underwear. Just in time to as Steve started his relentless journey of no return. I didn’t know what to do next, I tried to catch his cum in my hand. I could have cried I did not want this to end. My lover was now in the final throes of his orgasm, his come went everywhere! He must have been saving that up for a while! Thankfully most was caught in my hand but he managed to catch my stockings, crotch, kilt and top! So much was going on and I was NOT paying attention. My mind was floating in some satisfied state not on this world it was almost as if I had came with him. I was on a higher plane when I was brought back to my senses by Steve who was sobbing sorry over and over again; by now the cum that was in the palm of my hand was rapidly cooling off! PHEW! Back to reality with a bang (so to speak). I could have cried with satisfaction and contentment. I cradled the sobbing Steve’s head and whispered thank you over and over again almost in time with his replies of sorry. Rolling Steve onto his back I looked into his eyes for a very, very, long time, each of us had gone quiet. I leaned down and gave him a firm kiss, one of those eyes open deep, deep, meaningful, lustful, lingering, dirty kisses that left both of us in no doubt where we stood. Nervously I brought up my cum covered fingers and placing one against our lips our tongues danced as they playfully cleaned ………………ummmmmmmmm cleaning….. Steve you did say you had a French maids uniform
100% (13/0)
Categories: Shemales
Posted by michaella_cd
3 years ago    Views: 591
Comments (4)
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1 year ago
Great story, I used coverals!
2 years ago
fab story michaella and so so sexy, the maids uniform sounds like fun. nat xx
2 years ago
An incredible story.
Brilliantly written, refreshingly honest.
Loved it thanks for sharing.
3 years ago
This is such a beautiful, warm and horny story - I love it.
And your writing is excellent - if I'm allowed to say that as a native german speaker...
Thank you for these sentences full of lust and sensibility and the love in a very special kind of feelings...

(Uuuuh - I should urgently warm up my English - reading is a thousend times better as writing down... sorry...)