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Robert... Part 1
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Robert... Part 1 This story is dedicated to JR0 I was in the closet for years as a crossdresser. I never dreamt of venturing beyond my front door dressed in women's clothing. My dressing as a woman was an even darker and deeper secret than my bisexuality. I have enjoyed men since my teens. I was no stranger to sucking cock. In public places like a movie theater or the front seat of a car or somewhere along a public hiking trail. I never discussed, even with men I saw frequently that I got pleasure dressing in women’s clothing. There was a man named Robert. Seems like every guy is Bob at these places. We have met on and off for years. We would cross paths and it never failed that I got his load. There was one night in particular that stands . While sucking him, he started a line of questioning. He seemed to be on a fishing expedition. His questions were interesting: how many men have you been with? Do I fuck? Do I do bareback? Have I ever done a of men? The clincher which caused me to pause was, “what is your deepest darkest sexual secret.” I paused. I stammered and sputtered. My mind immediately focused on my crossdressing. There were pregnant pauses. He started putting his cock in my mouth and he would pull it away teasing me. He said, “I need an answer if you want this cock.” I told him, I like dressing as a woman. He asked if I still lived alone. I was living alone. I hear, “what is your ?” I gave it to him. I am still on my knees his cock in my hand, he grabs by the jaw harshly and says “my wife is of town, I have all night to play. Get your sissy ass home, dress. I will be there in 2 hours. I want a sissy answering the door.” My response, “yes, sir.” I could not make eye contact. He turned into a of a bitch quickly. I rushed home, shaved, put on makeup, douched and started to pick clothing. I decided on a blond wig, one if my favorites. I thought I looked somewhat passable... heels on, I put some porn on the television. I was hoping to sit snf snuggle and watch movies with him. He was punctual. Two hours exactly and not one minute sooner or later. He said, “do you have your house keys.” No, I did not have them. I hear, “get your fucking keys you are going for a ride.” I was terrified. I was scared shitless. Walking awkwardly in heels, wobbly ankles and all to his car, I prayed none of my neighbors would spot me. He opened the door and I hear, “get in lady,” I was in a safe place. least I thought so. He reaches over, hits a button and I am locked in. The car goes into gear, we are on our way somewhere. He rubs my thigh as he drives and is telling me he loves the feel of my hose. His hand drifts to my crotch and I have a rock hard cock. He rubs and said I was not that nervous and laughed in a crazy way. I hear, “Sissy want to suck my cock?” He unzips and his cock is at full attention. I slide over as we are cruising down the highway. I did not think I had much of a choice in the matter. Bob is well endowed. He is thick. Bob is very thick. Bob can make my jaw ache if he takes too long to . His cock is lovely. All I have ever done when we met was me suck him off. I was scared and excited with the thoughts running through my mind. I wanted to get fucked. He would need to be patient and use plenty of lube if he was going to fuck me. As I sucked him called me his “sissy slut.” I liked it. It turned me on. He was right. For the 1st time, I knew my place and was happy. I intentionally slowed down sucking him to tease him. I feel body movement, his hand is on the top of my head and he forces the entire length of his cock in my throat. The teasing was apparently not on his agenda. I gagged. I gagged violently. He said, “you make sounds like a sissy bitch.” He asked me, “are you hungry?” I told him no. He said I don’t care if you are, I am. He went through a drive through and I wanted to crawl into a corner and hide. I kept my head down the entire time and stared a hole in the floor. He orders me to take my panties off. His hand roams up my thigh on my hose and he finds my hard cock. He say, “I always wondered what you had, not bad.” He started to jerk me off while he drove. He says, "from now on, this is not a cock -- it is a clit. Your asshole is your pussy." We pull into my drive and I make a beeline for the door. Wobbly ankles and all! He follows me in. “On your knees, slut,” I start to suck, his hand is at the back of my head, his entire cock forced in. My nose is buried in his pubes, I am gagging and saliva is running down my cheeks. Tears are running down my cheeks. There were times I could not breath. Secretly, I was in heaven. His cock is glistening with my saliva. I hear “bitch lift your skirt.” Fingers loosen and lubed my pussy. He stretched and worked it for quite a few minutes. I suspect, given the thickness of his cock.., he had better lube me well... He bent me over my sink. I felt the tip of his cock perfectly where it needed to be... he slid in. I watched my neighbors mowing their lawn while he fucked me from behind bent over my sink. Roughly 50 feet away, they had no clue there neighbor was a sissy and hard a delightful cock buried in me. Once adjusted to the size of his cock, I began to match his rhythm with my hips. I know he was getting close. His tempo was picking up, his penetration was deeper. His grip on my hips was tightening. I heard him start to grunt. It is funny how each man makes a different sound when he cums. I felt his cock spasm in my pussy. Yes, I can feel the pulse pf your when you cum and dump in me. Each pulse dumping more cum forcefully and deeper into my cunt. I sucked the remaining cum from his cock, getting the last few drops. I warmed a wash cloth and cleaned his cock. Before he left, he said “plan on me stopping by whenever I want. If you are not at work, be dressed as a woman.” Our relationship went in for years. It was at this point, I started dressing every , Bob gave the key to happiness and I learned my place. I belong on my knees and my role is simple: be a good sissy and do as Sir asks.” |
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Definitely got a boner reading this story. Thank you Ivanna!
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This is a beautifully crafted story true or not makes no difference. I can see the pictures (Virtual Symposium Group) use Virtual Symposium Group
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Pocogato, Bright Blessings! It is perhaps a romanticized version of the truth. My “stories” are based upon real experiences, perhaps lacking the angst and nervousness and awkwardness...
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