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Date: Fri, 7 Jan 2005 00:23:26 GMT
From: "teresawood1@juno.com" <teresawood1@juno.com>
Subject: Holiday Schedule
Hello, my name is Teresa and I would like to share a little fantasy
with you. Most of it is true, the rest is imagination. I'll leave it to you
to decide which is which; I know that's my preference when I'm reading
stories such as this one.
I'm not very big, nor overly masculine. I love dressing up in
women's clothing and have a variety of wicked fantasies I indulge in when
hiding within the sanctity of my home. Many of them involve me being made
love to by a man, and I am particularly fond of being a cheerleader when I
seduce my current imaginary stud. However in my fantasies I am either a
real woman or so passable that the hot man of my current dreams has no idea
that it's not a woman sucking his cock. I love the fantasy of being caught
dressed like a woman but not being forced into doing anything as a result
of it. When I kneel before my man I want him to know it is absolutely
voluntary.
So normally I dress at home and have only rarely ventured out into
public. A few times I have dressed up, hidden everything under a long coat,
and went out to rent a video or something. Once when I lived in the country
I went outside totally dressed and drove my car in about a five mile circle
right back to my own house. I love the thought of being caught, but not so
much that I actually want to be caught. I'm not prepared for those
repercussions. Therefore I live a somewhat lonely life, but I really don't
mind.
Physically I am very fit, and work hard to keep myself as thin as
possible. It helps me feel pretty when I dress up. Nature, combined with
specific weight training and endless aerobics, have given me natural A cup
breasts and wide hips although I normally augment my chest with breast
forms to a C when I want to feel sexy. If I just want to dress casually
I'll wear my smaller bras without the forms. My hair is long but I often
prefer wigs to my natural mousy brown. Occasionally I take a weekend and
concentrate totally on feminizing myself, and I must say that when I take
care with my makeup I am almost passable, at least to myself. I am too big
a coward to ever take a chance that someone might `make' me, so I don't
know for sure how well I do it. At least I didn't know until recently.
I work in a large factory, and I do mean large. Our company does
business with a variety of industries including the automotive. We have
extensive assembly lines and manufacturing areas and at any time have
millions of dollars of inventory on hand. Keeping track of all that
inventory is difficult, and so our company created a small department of
six people whose sole purpose was to count something every day, correcting
any errors found but ensuring that the quantities of parts shown in the
computer were, if not accurate, at least pretty close. It's not a hard job
but it can be awfully boring.
As the member of the Inventory Department with the least seniority, I
often get stuck with the worst possible assignments but as even the worst
assignment in Inventory is better than the best assignment on one of the
assembly lines, so I don't complain. At least I'm on day shift.
As you can imagine there aren't many days that there isn't something
going on somewhere in the plant. I once worked on Easter Sunday. Even if
every bit of production is shut down, there are likely to be Maintenance
men or contractors working on something. Those days are primetime for the
Inventory Department, as we can inventory items that might otherwise move
too quickly for us to keep up with, so you can count on our department
being ordered to count something any time that production is shut down for
any reason.
I joined the department last February and as each holiday approached
and we found out what parts we had to count it became quite clear to me
that none my higher seniority coworkers were going to volunteer to work for
even one of them. I resigned myself to working every holiday for the next
several years.
At first I was appalled when told that I would be working both
Christmas Eve and Christmas, but a few words with Ike, the guy who was the
lowest senior person in the department before I arrived, assured me that it
wasn't so bad. He explained that last Christmas Eve he had been alone in
the plant except for a handful of contractors, and completely alone all day
on Christmas so he had hurried through his few duties and spent the day
surfing the web and sleeping. Not bad work for double-time and a half. He
explained to me that I could even come in on third shift if I wanted to, so
that I could have my holiday-days free. I mulled this over for a few days
and decided that perhaps working those days wouldn't be so bad after all.
I did some investigating and found out that there would indeed be
some contractors in the plant on Christmas Eve, but only during the morning
hours. No one was going to be in the building on Christmas except me. My
devious mind began planning some fantasy activities for me.
Arranging to work third shift on one day and second another was as
easy as Ike had said it would be. The plant would be deserted starting at
11am Christmas Eve and I didn't have to clock in until noon. Then I was off
from 8pm until Midnight, when I would clock in again. It might seem like a
tough schedule but those hours gave me the maximum amount of time alone in
the factory while limiting any chance that someone might show up for some
reason. There was always some suck-up foreman coming in to check on
something during the day, but with those hours I would be safe, I
hoped. Being the natural coward that I am I still couldn't convince myself
of that completely.
Preparations for my upcoming fantasy began two weeks in advance. I
knew that I wouldn't completely go through with everything I had planned,
but getting everything ready was so much fun. In my dreams I went to work
in a dress and high heels, and I packed my oversized lunch box with a
variety of fun things to do when I got there. The reality was far less, of
course, as I couldn't take the chance of being caught. If nothing else I
could be fired for not coming to work wearing the baggy blue work uniforms
we were assigned, not to mention the steel-toed work boots that had to be
worn even by the people who never left the office. Still, I felt myself
quite daring when I left the house wearing what I did.
I spent Christmas Eve morning napping, shaving, and nare-ing myself
to complete smoothness. I wore a nightgown all morning, just to get myself
in the proper mood. I knew that if I was not really horny when I left for
work, I'd chicken out and not go through with my ultimate plan. When the
time came to get dressed, I naturally didn't follow through completely, but
I packed as if I was.
First off was my underwear. Pink satin panties with a cute little
flower on the front went on first, completely and easily disguising my tiny
dick even when erect. I groaned at the feeling of wearing my panties, I
dearly love them. Next I slid my stockings up my long, smooth legs, then
slipped my waist-cinching girdle on and fastened the snaps to my
stockings. I was already nearly too excited by this time. I knew that I
would go no further with my clothing, but teased myself by putting on the
matching bra for the panties, knowing that I would chicken out and remove
it before I left the house. It was one of my A cup ones, and I loved how
delicious it felt as it caressed my breasts. Next I donned my hated
uniform, ignoring the dress I had laid out. I knew I couldn't wear it or
the high heels but wanted to enjoy the illusion as long as possible.
Finally I packed my lunchbox as if I was going further with my little
fantasy, including my breast forms, a size C bra that also matched my
panties, a wig, and a satin top slip went into my purse, which also
contained my makeup. I even added my dildo, doubting that I would dare take
it out but loved the thought of peeking in at it. I slipped my purse into
my lunchbox and was almost out the door when I remember that I was still
wearing my bra. That was when I exceeded my expectations, as I dared leave
it on for the drive to work.
My confidence was sufficiently buoyed by the sight of the deserted
parking lot that I even dared to wear the bra into the plant. I knew my
uniform would conceal most of my girlish underwear, even the slight bumps
from my little A cups, but also knew that if I stretched the wrong way my
bra straps would be clearly outlined on the back of my shirt. I swallowed
my pounding heart and entered the building, glad of the concealment of my
jacket even as I kept my arms crossed over my chest. I just knew someone
would be there.
A quick search of the offices revealed no hidden person, as did my
survey of the nearby shop floor. I was so glad we didn't have any security
people, for whatever reason our plant didn't have any, or camera's. We
depended solely on a sophisticated alarm system that I of course knew the
password too. I checked the secondary parking lot, then the primary one
again, seeing only my rusty little Volvo. I was truly alone.
At this point I realized that my bladder was about to explode. I had
been so intent on searching for hidden spies that I had neglected it. I
entered the locker room with the intention of peeing and then using one of
the lockers to lock up my lunchbox, as I normally do, when I suddenly
remembered what I was wearing. Hands shaking, I removed my purse from the
lunchbox and slipped it over my arm. Peeking down the hallway in both
directions I dashed breathlessly across the way, sliding into the women's
locker room without really opening the door.
"Anyone here?" I squeaked, the pounding of my heart so loud I doubt
I would have heard any reply that might have been given. I quickly peed in
the closest stall and dashed back across to the men's locker room as if a
monster was on my heels. There I reclaimed my lunchbox, deciding that I
wanted everything to stay with me, replacing my purse within it, and nearly
ran back to the front of the building to recheck the parking lot.
I was still alone, and began to be concerned with having a heart
attack as it pounded away beneath my pretty bra. I was so frightened, and
so excited!
Walking back to the Inventory office normally takes no more than five
minutes. I took the longest possible way, doubling that time, so that I
could inspect as much of the plant as possible for habitation. I still saw
no one, but couldn't seem to calm my racing heart. It just felt so good to
be wearing my feminine underwear, how I wished I dared wear them all the
time. I just couldn't face being found out.
I reached the Inventory office, a former large closet that had been
given over to our use when office space elsewhere became scarce, and closed
the door behind me, loving the feel of my bra stretched across my chest as
I sucked air through my wide open mouth. I snaked my way between the
tightly situated desks to my little cubicle, and immediately sat down to
try and compose myself.
Which took some time. I fired up my computer and checked my email
messages, gratified that the work due that day was not overly
time-consuming, Ike had helped me get as much of it done as possible in
advance, and that nothing new had been added. Grabbing my clipboard I
prepared to go begin my first count, and then made the first of a series of
fateful decisions that day. Telling myself that no one was here but me, I
unbuttoned the top two buttons of my shirt.
Now I knew that even with those buttons open, no one who might show
up was going to see my bra unless I pulled my shirt open for them. Still it
was quite a thrill for me to be able to so easily peek inside and see the
lacy edges of my bra, and the hint of miniature cleavage I was pleased to
have. Next I secured my long hair behind me with a rubber band in what I
considered a masculine way and then, clutching my clipboard over my
breasts, I fearfully opened the door.
Again I saw no one, despite returning to both parking lots to be
sure. I trembled as I held the clipboard over my breasts, my pulse pounding
behind my eyes as I shakily began counting my inventory. After about twenty
minutes I relaxed enough to lower my clipboard, and after an hour I calmed
down enough to even open another button. Anyone approaching me now would
easily see my bra but I was now brave enough to believe that no one was
coming in and even if they did, I would see them coming and have more than
enough time to fasten one button.
Break time arrived as I finished my first count. I clutched the
clipboard to my chest; now pretending it was my homework as I walked home
from school rather than trying to hide my chest from anyone's view. I
practiced my feminine walk, placing one foot directly in front of the other
as I strutted my way across the plant. I felt so good, so sexy. So
feminine.
I sat in one of the breakrooms, drinking a diet coke and skimming
through an old newspaper someone had left there. After using the ladies
room again, I strutted back out onto the plant floor and began a different
set of counts, all the while wondering if I was going to have to masturbate
in order to make a good count. As time went on I became more and more
relaxed in my situation, which of course caused my mind to begin searching
my options.
Returning to my office I began my research, checking the inventory
records against my counts. All the while I was staring at my computer
screen, the corner of my mind was glued to my nearby lunchbox. I wanted
more, more feminization, more thrill, and more excitement.
I ripped the top off of the lunchbox and tried to choose what to
do. I still didn't feel completely confident but knew I had to take the
chance and push the envelope a little more. I considered the long black
wig, but rejected it just as quickly. I considered my breast forms, and
blushed at the mere thought of the dildo. Finally I slapped the top back on
the lunchbox and settled on readjusting my hair, removing my `masculine'
tail and replacing it with a high ponytail. That felt pretty nice, bouncing
around on the back of my head, yet I knew I could easily laugh off anyone
who saw it, claiming that many men had pony tails. It only took a few
moments before I realized that the ponytail just wasn't going to be enough.
Taking my purse, leaving only the wig in my lunchbox, I peeked out
the door of our little closet to make sure no one had wandered in. I then
eased the door open and spent a few moments listening. Confident that no
one was around I slung my purse over my shoulder and minced over to the
ladies room, admiring the simple word as I slowly swung the door
open. "Women" it said. So simple a word, and yet it thrilled me to no end
to be able to open this door.
I made sure my shirt was open enough to give me a view of my bra
peeking out of my shirt as I spent five wonderful minutes primping my hair
in front of the mirror. I readjusted my pony tail, ensuring it looked as
feminine as possible, secretly assuring myself that I could pull the rubber
bands out quickly enough if need be. I gathered up my purse to leave when I
had another thought the set my heart to pounding. Again with hands shaking,
I am such a coward, I took out my lightest shade of lipstick and gave
myself the thinnest coat possible. Eyes wide at my own courage and drunk
with the eroticism of it all, I staggered back to my hidden cubicle licking
my lips in near ecstasy.
Now I know that compared to some of you girls the things I was doing
were not erotic or dangerous but to me that were both those things and
more. No one knows about Teresa, no one. I have always been content with
that outside my personal fantasies. What I risked that day was my entire
life as I presently knew it, and I was nearly petrified with fear and
arousal.
Once I had regained a little composure, I felt that stirring again. I
knew I wanted to take this just a little bit further. Initially I resisted
the impulse, contenting myself with working at my computer for over an
hour. Finally I simply ran out of things to do, and my idle hands joined my
idle mind in my desire. Grabbing my purse I returned to the ladies room,
but this time I nearly went berserk.
My A cup bra went into the purse as quickly as I could get it off. My
C cup replaced it, breast forms firmly attached with glue into place. Next
I put on my slip, I dearly love slips, and regretfully put my ugly uniform
back on over it, making sure that enough buttons were undone to leave no
mystery as to what I wore beneath it. I was almost sick with fear, yet I
took a good half hour fixing my makeup to perfection. No wanton slut here,
just a girl trying to look her best. I replaced my usual clear nail polish
with something a little more daring, wishing that I had my nail extensions
along but I had forgotten them. I touched up my hair and nearly lost my
nerve when it came time to leave the bathroom. There was no way I could
explain any of this if I was caught now.
I must have looked like someone in fear for her life as I slunk from
that bathroom. Unable to stand the suspense I went to the front of the
building, slinking from hiding place to hiding place, until I could view
both parking lots and assure myself once again that I was alone. Gasping
with emotion when I saw that they were both empty of trespassers, I
returned to my office for my clipboard and began counting those parts I was
supposed to be counting on the next shift. I had to do something or I was
just going to explode!
Time again eased my fears until I truly began to enjoy myself. I spun
about, laughing and practicing my feminine voice, pretending all the while
that this was just any old workday and I was just a girl doing her job. I
found myself drifting by work areas were particularly good looking young
men normally worked and found excuses to `accidentally' bend over in front
of them, showing off my ass or cleavage, pretending that they were enjoying
the view as their cocks grew harder and harder. In real life I was only
showing off for robots. Sigh. The thought of my dildo was getting tougher
and tougher to resist.
After recounting my parts three times, I had a hard time keeping my
mind on my job; I finally assured myself that I had a good, accurate count
of what was on the production floor. I only needed to check the receiving
warehouse for current stock to be done with my count. As it was well past
lunchtime already, this was the last task I would do that day, saving my
remaining paperwork for my shift later that night. I went to the warehouse
door and entered the long building, emerging in the middle of the
centermost aisle.
And there stood a man looking at me.
Not that he was anywhere close to me. He was at least a hundred yards
away but he could see me just as clearly as I could see him; that is to say
not very. Still I had just been seen clearly dressed as a woman for the
first time in my life.
We were too far away to make out details, you say? I know better. I
could see him and knew he was a guy wearing blue jeans and a yellow
jacket. He was also wearing a hardhat, which meant that he was likely a
contractor. I was so scared I know I squeaked in fright at the sight of him
and then just stood there, stunned and likely with my mouth hanging
open. He returned my stare with a smile, taking a step towards me and
saying "Hi there."
I ran away.
No, not really, but I didn't stick around to wish him a pleasant
evening. As quickly as I could escape I did so, darting back through the
door into the main building. A glance over my shoulder showed me that he
was still coming towards me, perhaps following me. I made sure to walk as
femininely as possible, hoping to maintain my illusion since he wasn't
anywhere near me. What should I do? Where should I go? I needed to get my
hair out of this ponytail, and get these breast forms off my chest, and get
this makeup off! But what if I didn't do it fast enough, and he caught me
in mid transformation? He'd know I was a guy and would then tell my secret
to whomever he knew in the factory. Would I be better off trying to pass
myself off as a female? Could I pull it off? What if I did and he later
asked for the girl he met working on Christmas Eve? I was the only employee
here!
Nothing I thought of seemed to be the right answer, so I did what my
inner voice said: Hide! If he never got close enough to see me clearly, he
would either forget he saw me at all or confuse the details over time. "You
saw a lady in here the other night? Naw, that was just Chad. He's kinda
small, and he's got that long hippy hair, but he ain't no girl. Yeah, I
guess you were kind of far away, easy to understand." That was my only
hope.
But where? I started to head for the ladies room, but thought that he
might wait outside if he saw me go in. Why shouldn't he? If he was a local
contractor, he likely knew a lot of people that worked in our factory, and
may even think that he knew me. It was no accident that I looked somewhat
like a pretty young lady that worked in the Human Resources Department. I'd
switch bodies with her in a minute. She was often on my mind when I played
dress up, as I truly admired how good she looked even in her company
uniform. She was a primary source of emulation for me.
With the bathroom rejected I settled on the Inventory office. No one
ever came there as it was out of the way, tucked into corner on the second
floor of the payroll department, and at the end of a hallway that either
went to our office or a room filled with generators. I could not remember
the last time someone not from out department had even been in there. There
I would be safe.
With the office door firmly closed behind me I leaned against the
portal and trembled. It occurred to me that I had just ran out of
options. If this mystery contractor did find me now I had only but two
choices left to me. Since I had forgotten my purse in the bathroom, I could
now either try and pretend to be a woman for real or beg him to keep my
secret.
Eventually I calmed down. He wouldn't find me here. No one ever came
back here and this guy wouldn't have any business with me. He had obviously
surprised me and I had moved quickly away. He would think that I was afraid
of being raped or something and likely leave as soon as possible. He
wouldn't come looking for me.
I sat with my head in my hands, slowly calming down. It was nearly
8pm and time for me to leave. I would wait until the last minute, then
sneak out to retrieve my purse, change back into boring old Chad and then
drive home like my life was in danger. I would come back at midnight in
male clothing and I would from now on keep the panties and skirts in my
bedroom.
The pulse pounding in my ears must have been why I didn't hear him
until he knocked on the door.
"Uh, excuse me Miss?" he asked, his voice muffled by the cheap wood.
Mortified I held my hand cupped over my mouth, so scared I dared not
breath. Please let him go away.
"Uh, Miss?" he said again, obviously no great whiz at
conversation. "Look, I'm sorry I frightened you but I have permission to be
here."
It was then I knew that he knew I was in here. I wasn't going to fool
him that way but if I could keep him outside the door, perhaps he would
never know I wasn't a real female.
"What do you want?" I squeaked, using my practiced female voice. It's
pretty good, and I was at least a little hopeful I could fool him with it,
just so long as the door remained closed.
At the sound of my voice he opened the door.
"Hi, sorry again for scaring you. Someone should have told you I was
coming by. I'm with Sanders Electric, and I was supposed to give this
paperwork to Joe Clemons," he said, waving a sheaf of paper. "He was
supposed to meet me at his office."
I spun my chair about, unwilling to give him a clear look at my
face. I knew Joe, and his office was indeed back in the Receiving
Warehouse. I also knew he was off work, having left early the day before
when his wife went into labor.
"He's not here," I said, praying that he didn't figure out my
secret. So far he hadn't given me any reason to believe he knew that I was
a man.
"Maybe I could call him. Do you know his extension?"
I don't know if my fright was making me a better actress or if he was
simply preoccupied with something else but when I took a quick peek at him
he was obviously unaware of who I really was, digging through a pocket
organizer in search of Joe's extension number. Rather than risk speaking
again I snatched up the phone that sat on the table right next to him,
bringing my hand uncomfortably close to his crotch as I did so, and dialed
Joe's in-house extension before handing the handset to the intruder. He
accepted it gratefully, thanking me and again calling me `Miss' to my inner
delight.
As he waited for Joe to answer the phone, something I knew would not
happen as Joe was certainly still at the hospital and unlikely to return to
work just to meet a contractor, I was thankful that I had turned my name
plate over upon my arrival that day and that I had chosen a uniform whose
name tag had been ripped off. After a few futile rings he hung up, and
asked me how to dial out so he could try Joe at home. My shaking little
hand reached over and dialed the four-digit code necessary to make a local
call, but my eyes were fixated on the bulge of his jeans just a couple of
inches away from my pinky. I whispered a `There' and went back to staring
at my monitor, trying in vain to judge the man's reactions by his
reflection in my monitor. I pretended to type something, but I'm sure it
was just gibberish.
"Damn," he said, laying the phone back down. "He's not home
either. Oh well, I guess I could just leave it on his desk."
I nodded, looking back just enough to give him a small smile before
returning to my supposed work. I thought he would leave but he seemed to be
waiting for something.
"Look, my name is Tom and I really am sorry I scared you a while
ago. Joe told me that I could always find someone here in this office if he
wasn't here, but I truly thought that he'd let you know I was coming just
in case."
I assured him that it was all right, trying to be polite but not
allowing him any opportunities to continue the conversation. Why wouldn't
he just leave?
He continued to talk, asking simple questions like my name, and how
long had I been with the company and the like. I answered him as truthfully
as I dared, with short one or two word answers such as `Teresa' and `three
years', and then abruptly told him that I had to go, as it was time for me
to get off work. That was certainly a mistake.
"Well let me walk you to your car at least," he said, a shy smile
just turning up the corners of his mouth.
Then I made my biggest mistake of the evening, I looked up into his
eyes.
He was gorgeous! His blue eyes were perfect, as was the sweet little
dimple in his chin. I found myself staring at his lips, wishing I was being
kissed by them. With his jacket open and nothing underneath but a thin
T-shirt, I could see that his body was lean and well muscled. I opened my
mouth to thank him but graciously decline his offer but what came out was a
grateful acceptance.
What was I doing?
He waited patiently as I shut down my computer and then sweetly held
my jacket for me. I noticed him peeking down my shirt before I realized
that I had forgotten to rebutton it when he entered the room. Not wanting
to draw attention to my lacy slip I turned off the lights and led him
across to the bathroom, explaining that I had left my purse there. He
waited patiently for me as I took the opportunity to touch up my makeup and
rebutton two of my buttons, one of which I unbuttoned again before I left.
We chatted as we left the plant with Tom doing most of the
talking. We had to go out of our way to leave the papers on Joe's desk but
I found myself not minding the extra time with him. He was very polite and
mannerly and I found myself enormously attracted to him. However the fear
of discovery still loomed far too large for me to consider anything else. I
had hoped to part ways with him at several different turnings necessary to
leave the building but he seemed intent on walking me all the way to my
car. This irritated me somewhat until I saw that his pickup truck was
parked next to my Volvo.
A true gentleman he took my keys from me and unlocked my door,
holding it open for me to slide behind the wheel. However he seemed in no
real hurry to leave, and continued his small talk for some time. Eventually
I stated that I had to leave and explained that I was due back to work in
just a few more hours.
When will I learn what not to tell? This fact simply gave Tom more
ammunition to talk about and I found myself enraptured with this sweet
man. After an hour had passed he asked me if I'd like to go out for some
coffee, as it was nearly nine thirty and I had already stated that I did
not intend to go to sleep right away.
What was I to do? Obviously the guy wasn't going to leave me alone
and I was more and more sure that I didn't want him to. I couldn't take my
eyes off of him and he was beginning to flirt with me! Was I fooling him?
Did he really believe that I was a really and truly a girl? I'm not sure at
what point that I made my decision, but I resolved that if this sweet,
handsome man thought that I was a real woman, or just wanted to pretend
that I was and treat me that way, I was going to go all-out to enjoy the
experience.
I insisted on taking my car and getting takeout and so we spent the
next two hours sitting at the lake, drinking lukewarm coffee and
talking. He drove, naturally, as he was very sweet and a real
gentleman. I've never laughed so much in my life! I found myself lost in
his eyes a number of times, other times I found myself watching his sweet
lips moving without a clue what words he was saying. I couldn't imagine a
more attractive, thoughtful person. Time was flying along and suddenly I
found myself leaning towards him as he was leaning towards me. He was going
to kiss me!
Odd how I didn't think about that fact that I was kissing him too. I
was totally into my female role at that point, and my handsome boyfriend
was kissing me.
I sank into his sweet lips, going limp at the magnificent pleasure
that was blazing through my body. This man was absolutely perfect, and he
was kissing me, Teresa! I felt like I was finally a woman; an attractive,
desirable woman! I'm not sure how long I experienced the heavenly pleasure
of his lips. When I came to myself again he had reclined my seat and was
leaning over me, our mouths attached as if life itself depended on the
contact. One of my hands held him prisoner by the back of the head, and his
hands were busy cupping my face and softly squeezing one of my breasts.
That was when I noticed the dashboard clock said 11:43.
We barely made it back to work on time. I told Tom that I had to get
to work but my sweet Romeo insisted on walking me back to the time
clock. How I wished that I had never asked to work third shift that night!
But what would I have done? Taken Tom back to my place? I already knew he
was from out of town, and was driving home tonight. Plus I couldn't have
done what I wanted with him anyway, I was still convinced that he believed
me to be a woman. I told myself that if I had a pussy, Tom would have
gotten lucky tonight if I had had to mount him in a broom closet.
I clocked in, then leaned against the wall to say goodnight, and
goodbye, to my gorgeous stud. Tom leaned against me, kissing me like I have
never been kissed before. My knees were weak as I tried to drink from his
lips. We stood there at least an hour as he sweetly tasted me and lovingly
stroked my breasts. My inhibitions were all but gone; I don't believe I
even realized that I was really a man by the time he said he had to go. I
cried, holding him tight and refusing to let go of him. I begged him to get
closer to me, and he tried, pinning me against that cold cement block wall
as he melded his body to mine.
And there was his cock, raging and hard and pushing into my belly
button. I gave up then, looking up into his baby blues as I came in my
panties.
My moans may have given me away but I simply told him that I had to
`freshen up' and that he was to wait for me right there until I could give
him proper goodbye, and as I said this I stroked his erection through his
thick jeans. I don't think a gun would have made him leave at that point. I
hurried into the ladies room and cleaned myself as best I could, touched up
my makeup, in particular my smeared lipstick, and then hurried back to my
man.
Now it was his turn to lean back against the wall by the time
clock. I threw myself against him, kissing him with all the love and
passion that had been building in my life. I gripped his erection tightly,
squeezing it until he gave me a groan of satisfaction. I then dropped to my
knees, unbuttoning my shirt as he unfastened his jeans. When I took him
into my mouth I wanted him to see the soft, lacy slip and bra I wore,
showing him just how feminine a woman it was that was about to suck his
cock.
He was taking too long getting himself free of the jeans, so I began
to help him. I was scared and excited and couldn't wait to get my hands,
and lips, on him. My few sexual experiences had all been with women, and
now it was my turn to be the woman.
Finally I got his zipper down, biting his cock through his underwear
in my passion. He pulled his briefs down and his beautiful cock sprang
free. My face was so close it bounced off of my nose. I immediately began
licking the underside of it, so lost in the passion of the moment that it
seemed my entire awareness existed only in those parts of my body that were
touching his cock.
And a beauty it was. Long, thick, and hard, I'd never seen anything
to match it. I gripped it with both hands and still had plenty to work with
my tongue. I met his eyes when I couldn't stand to wait any longer, and
looked lovingly at him as I finally took him into my warm mouth.
I don't know which one of us groaned louder, or enjoyed the blowjob
more. I worked my lips up and down his hard rod, using my tongue to inspect
every inch, every bulging vein as I bobbed up and down on him. I maintained
my suction all the while, releasing one hand from his cock to reach up
under his T-shirt and stroke his muscular body. It may have been an hour,
or it may have been only a moment or two, but all too soon he groaned and
began bucking his hips, feeding me his delicious cock as poured his cum
into my grateful mouth.
His semi-hard cock slipped from my lips but I didn't stop making love
to it. I continued to lick it while adding occasional kisses and gentle
sucks on the very tip. I caressed his balls and stroked the sensitive spot
behind them. By the time his breathing slowed from his first orgasm, his
cock was once again rock hard and nestled firmly inside my mouth.
Our lovemaking was slower this time as I gently nursed on his hard
prick. I slid up and down his pole slowly, keeping a steady suction as I
firmly but gently rubbed my tongue over him. The feelings were fantastic. I
was keenly aware of my stocking covered knees touching the floor, even
through my pants. The steady squeeze of my bra and the satiny grip of my
panties were exquisite, as was the hard yet soft texture of my man's hard
dick sliding across my lips.
He moaned, he groaned, and somewhere along the line I came in my
panties again. I made it last as long as possible and although my jaw hurt
terribly later, it all just felt so right. Regretfully my loving attention
became too much for him, and he fountained a massive load of cum into my
mouth. Not regretfully that he did it, just regretfully he came so soon.
I licked his cock clean and we said a tearful goodbye. Well I was
tearful; Tom was weak in the knees yet completely sexually satisfied. He
promised to look me up next time he came to town.
After he left I flew back to my office, I say flew because I'm pretty
sure my feet never touched the floor along the way, and stripped off my
hated uniform when I got there, nudged my soiled panties to the side, and
mounted my dildo right there in the office; I didn't care if anyone caught
me. Of course you know whose face was in my mind as I bounced happily on
that plastic cock don't you? The same one that has filled all my private
fantasies every since.
Somehow I managed to finish enough work that I didn't get into
trouble. It's only been a couple of weeks since I had Tom, and as yet I've
not seen him again around the plant. I know that if we do ever meet again
it will likely be very awkward and likely a bad scene for me, but as long
as I work here I'll have my memories of that beautiful man and the taste of
his delicious cock. At least twice a day I pass by that same time clock and
gaze fondly at the spot where I once knelt with him in my mouth.