by OldBillyBob

Copyright© 2014 by OldBillyBob

Sex Story: A transgender romance. Alex isn't the little boy that moved away ten years ago. She's a woman now and she's come back to see her old neighbor, the man she's had a crush on all her life. Love blossoms in this sweet twisted tale.

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Consensual   Romantic   TransGender   Shemale   Fiction   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   .

I was sick with anxiety over this phone call but I knew more than anything that I had to call him. I'd had this phone with a local number for my new city, actually my old hometown, for over a month now. I'd looked up the number of our old neighbor and added it to my contacts the very day I got this phone, swearing to myself that I'd call and let him know I moved back to town. I'd brought up the number countless times this week, and at least three times already on this Saturday morning, but this was the first time I actually let it ring. Yes, I wanted to see him; I've had a terrible crush on him for most of my life. After three rings, which became a sweaty-palmed eternity, he finally answered.

'Is this Joe Harrison?' I asked, my voice a nervous squeak about two octaves higher than I'd hoped for.

'Speaking.' he replied. 'Who's calling?'

'You probably don't remember me, ' I said, still trying to push my voice down to a lower register. 'I'm Alex. Alex McMannis. I used to live next door.'

'Of course I remember you, Alex, ' he replied. 'What brings you back into town after all these years?'

'I have a job here, ' I said.' It's in the Curator's office at the City Art Museum. I start next week. I'm just getting settled in my apartment.'

'That sounds like a great job for you, Alex, ' Mr. Joe said. I could hear the pride in his voice. That helped me relax a lot. Mr. Joe meant so much to my three sisters and especially to me when I was growing up. We all hated having to move away ten years ago.

I'm really happy to get this job, ' I answered, my confidence returning. I really was a lucky young woman to get this job at age 25. I had worked so hard in college and graduate school for a master's degree in gallery and museum management and now I had scored my dream job. 'It was hard moving away from you and Miss Jean.'

'I imagine it was hard for you, ' I said, 'having to move right in the middle of High School.'

'Tori swore she'd never forgave Dad for making us move, ' I laughed, finally at ease in this conversation. 'But she came around the first day of school when half the football team asked her for a date. Julie was already in college and Kelly was starting that fall, so it didn't make as much difference to them. It wasn't a fast start for me, but it turned out to be a good thing eventually. It gave me a chance to re-invent myself.'

'Uh, can I come over?' I forced myself to say that. I had to see him in person and the very thought of that meeting tightened my stomach into knots. 'There's a lot we have to catch up on and I think it would be better if we did that in person.'

'OK. I'm free all afternoon and I think you know how to find the old home place, ' he told me. 'I'm so happy you decided to look me up!'

We said our goodbyes after I promised to be right over. I couldn't back out of it now. I had to go. If I was nervous before I called him, it was only a preview of the panic attack that was washing over me now. I reassured my nervous self by remembering how Mr. Joe always said, 'House rule: no judging.' He always said that to me and my sisters when I was a little boy.

Yes, you read that right. I was a little boy, but now I'm a young woman. Now you know the reason for my nervousness. Mr. Joe remembered me as Alexander McMannis but now, legally and officially, I am Alexandra McMannis. I haven't yet taken the final steps and had sexual reassignment surgery, but the law already recognizes me for what I am - a woman.

Remembering that the Mr. Joe I remembered so fondly would at least try not to judge kept my hands from shaking enough for me to slip on a pretty sundress with a pair of summery sandals, touch up my makeup and hair and make it to the car. I the address already programmed into my GPS and it started giving me directions to his house on the far side of town from my new apartment.

On the drive over, many scenes from my childhood replayed in my memory, most of them involving Mr. Joe. He always accepted me for who I was: a not-very-masculine little boy who loved art and music and had no interest in hunting, fishing or football, much to my father's dismay. I especially remember the time he stood up for me when my dad said I should choose more manly hobbies than the art and music which I've always loved. Since Mr. Joe was a graphic designer and an incredible guitarist, he really laid into Daddy for that one, and I adored him for it. These memories of Mr. Joe's unconditional acceptance of me were the only thing that kept me from turning around. Still, I wondered how unconditional his acceptance was going be. The little boy he remembered turning up at his door as a grown-up young woman was going to be a lot to take in. Sometimes I have trouble taking it in myself.

As I drove, following the directions from the GPS, I thought back to when we moved away from this man that I adored so much. The fondest memory was of the going-away present he gave me Ð his 1960s vintage Fender Telecaster and twin-stack Marshall amp and speakers. I still have them and I still play. In fact, they were what kept moving to a new city from being a total nightmare.

When we got to the new school and my twin sister Tori (Victoria) and I started our junior year, I told people that I played, and when they came over to hear me they were all so jealous of me because of that equipment. I was suddenly cool because I had that vintage Fender with twin-stack Marshalls and could play pretty well. Some of us formed a band and we were doing some minor gigs by Christmas. It was pretty cool to be one of the popular kids for once in my life.

The other guys in the band were in heaven with the attention they were getting from girls, but I wasn't so comfortable with that part of my popularity. At that point in my life I wasn't sure if I was attracted to girls, and I was still afraid to think that I was attracted to guys. I certainly wasn't attracted to the effeminate gay guys I knew at school. That wasn't a group I imagined fitting into. It wasn't how I pictured myself. Actually I wasn't sure how I pictured myself. I thought maybe that part of me was just disconnected or something. I think I was just in denial.

So I just kept the groupies at arm's length by making excuses, telling them that I was tired from the gig or that I had to load the equipment. Most of the time the girls accepted that and went after the easier targets, and Billy, our drummer, was always an easy target. One night, there was this girl who had set her sights on me and just wouldn't take no for an answer. She helped me load the equipment, massaged my hands, rubbed my neck and eventually tried kissing me. I finally told her I wasn't interested in girls just to get away from her. She made this face like she was going to throw up, said 'You're gay?' I just nodded and said, 'Yes, I like boys.' It was the first time I'd ever said that, even to myself. Really, I'd just said it to make her leave me alone, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized I really wasn't attracted to girls. It didn't take long for the whole school to hear about it after that. I think she probably had a lot to do with that.

Things were a little strange for a while until people realized that I was still the same old Alex and not much had really changed. Most of the girls probably thought it was a waste, the gay guys probably were wishing I'd hit on them and the straight guys were hoping I wouldn't. Being in the San Francisco area probably helped with acceptance, but it didn't hurt that Tori was popular with the football players and let them know they didn't stand a chance with her if they let her brother get bullied.

Tori and I turned 18 just after our senior year started in September, and that's when things started happening. The school had this annual Senior Class Halloween party. It was actually a pretty big deal. Everyone was talking about who they were going with and what they were wearing; it was almost like the prom. Around the first of October, I told Tori that I didn't have a date and that I wasn't going to go, but she insisted. I told her I felt uncomfortable going alone, and she actually told me she would cancel her date and we'd go together.

The next question, then, was about costumes. Tori said we should go as 'the zombie twins from hell, ' which I thought was a little lame. She said it wouldn't be lame if we also went as each other. She thought it would be hilarious to pull such a prank on the rest of the school, even if people figured out we had switched places, it would still be a memorable time. Her enthusiasm for the idea eventually brought me around.

I think she got the idea because I hadn't cut my hair since we moved, so it was already about shoulder length. She spent a couple of weeks getting me ready for that party, including dragging me into a shop in the mall and getting my ears pierced. I tried to object but she told me I was the cool rocker dude and pierced ears would only add to my image. She was right. Nobody even gave the plain gold studs in my ears a second look.

The party was on a Saturday, so after school that Friday, Tori and I went and got identical haircuts. Her wavy auburn hair had grown to reach the middle of her back, so it was a pretty drastic style change for her, but it was really pretty when it was styled. Mine didn't look girly at all but I knew, once it was styled for the party, it would look just like Tori's.

Saturday, she started getting me ready for the party in the middle of the afternoon. She had me shave my legs, my chest and my armpits Ð not that there was a lot of hair to begin with. She surprised me by giving me a pair of her panties to wear Ð lacy pink bikini-cut ones! I asked her why I couldn't just wear my own underwear and she told me I was going to be a girl for the evening, so I had to dress like one all the way. She then gave me a short pleated plaid skirt Ð the naughty schoolgirl kind that only came down to mid thigh on me Ð and told me to go put it on with the panties and then come out and she'd help me with the rest of the costume.

She put me in a bra that matched the panties, and came up with a couple of silicone breast forms that she said mom had gotten her a few years back when she was still hoping her boobs would grow Ð which they hardly did, by the way, so a little padding was all I needed for my chest to resemble my sister's. With the bra properly stuffed, I was only slightly less busty than she was, not that Tori had all that much anyway.

We used an athletic bandage to flatten her chest (I had to help her finish pulling it tight enough) and I think she stuffed a sock in the front of the tighty-whitey underwear she borrowed from me. She had on my jeans and sneakers and an old baggy sweatshirt of mine that we'd smeared with fake blood. I had on that skirt and a pair of her sandals; with an old blouse of hers all bloodied the same. She cleaned off all her nail polish and makeup, then shaped up my eyebrows, and polished my nails. We traded earrings and curled my hair. Her hair was all tousled and tucked behind her ears like I wore it back then. We both had fake blood and stuff on our faces so we'd look like zombies. When we stood side by side in the mirror all I could say was 'wow' because we looked so much alike. It seemed a little strange to hear my voice coming out of Tori's mouth.

The party was actually a lot of fun. Before long, I was getting comfortable being dressed in a short plaid skirt with lacy panties under it and wearing a bra and makeup, with my hair curled and wearing a little of Tori's perfume. I couldn't believe it, but nobody seemed to have a clue that I was masquerading as my sister. Even several of her girlfriends came by and complimented my new haircut, and the guys? Wow! They had me surrounded and kept trying to outdo each other for my attention.

The longer I pretended to be Tori, the more comfortable I got in my role, and it looked like Tori was doing OK pretending to be me. She was off in the corner joking with some die-hard fans of the band and that small crowd guys who were OK with me being gay. Most of them were gay or curious themselves, though nobody ever made any moves on me.

At one point I was surrounded by all these really hunky, good looking guys who had no clue that I wasn't Tori, and they were flirting with me and trying to touch me. These were the kinds of boys I was interested in; apparently I had the same taste in men as my twin sister. Because of their attention, I was bordering on a hard-on the whole time, and my panties (Tori's panties, I should say) were starting to get a little damp from my pre-cum. That was bad enough, but when Johnny Gustafson, a football player Tori dated now and then, came up and wrapped his arms around me from behind, I was completely aroused. It was also a little uncomfortable because I'd tucked myself back between my legs so I wouldn't tent the front of my skirt, and my growing erection was getting really pinched.

Maybe even then I could have managed, but Johnny leaned down, pulled my hair away from my neck and kissed me right on my collarbone. I immediately came. It was a real gusher, and it left me weak in the knees. I wrenched myself away from him and ran to the bathroom to clean myself up, remembering at the very last second to go to the ladies room. God, I was so embarrassed. I was dressed as a girl and had semen running down my leg. I had to get out of there. Once I cleaned up a bit, I found Tori and begged her to take me home.

She kept asking me to tell her what had happened, but I made her wait until we got home and I took a shower before telling her. Tori thought it was really funny and teased me about cumming in her lacy panties. She kept saying things like, 'I have to wash my underwear now. Can you imagine what Mommy will say if she smells semen in my panties?' but she stopped teasing me when she saw the tears. She thought she had embarrassed me but, for me, it was something more than that. I was really disturbed by my reaction to Johnny's kiss and that puzzled me for reasons I couldn't pin down. Tori left me alone for a few minutes while she got her own shower, then she washed a load of her underwear. I heard her tell mom that she realized she didn't have any clean ones for the next day. I was physically and emotionally exhausted, so I put on the usual boxers and t-shirt I slept in and crawled into bed. When Tori came back in to check on me, I'd calmed down a lot and I was almost asleep. She kissed my cheek and told me good night. She must have been worried about me, though, because she stayed and held me until I fell asleep before slipping off to her own room.

I had the strangest dream that night. In the dream, I was naked on a bed, and I looked down and saw, to my shock, that I had breasts, and when I looked back up, Johnny Gustafson was on top of me, naked, and he was pushing his big hard cock right into my pussy! It was so vivid and so shocking that I screamed. Coming out of my dream, I was panicked and patting myself down to make sure I had clothes on, to make sure that I didn't have breasts and to reassure myself that I had a cock and not a pussy. I did still have a cock, and it had spewed out a huge load of cum and soaked my boxers. That was, believe it or not, my very first wet dream.

Before I could bring myself back to a calmer state of reality, Tori had rushed in from her room and scooped me up in her arms, telling me that it was just a dream and that everything was all right. I told her about the dream and she held me as I cried and confessed how confused I was. As we talked, a whole flood of repressed memories returned; crying when I didn't get the same pretty underwear that my sisters got, wanting to play with Tori's dolls instead of the toy trucks I got for Christmas, and many similar events from my earliest childhood that I had buried because I finally realized there was a difference between girls and boys. I told Tori these things and added that it felt amazingly 'right' when I was pretending to be a girl for the party. I asked her if it was possible that I was really a woman trapped in a male body. She told me she didn't know and that, while she didn't completely understand, that she loved me enough to help me and support me no matter what.

We talked about it late into the night and again all weekend, and the feeling of being in the wrong body just kept getting stronger. When the emotions just kept getting stronger Tori pushed me to get counseling, so I made an appointment with a doctor that specialized in gender identity issues. I had two sessions with her, a week apart. More and more of my repressed memories of wanting to be like my sisters and being uncomfortable with being a boy surfaced in those sessions, and she said she was already pretty sure that I had a form of gender dysphoria but that it would take extensive counseling before she'd recommend me for actual transition. Dr. Simpson said I needed to be up front about it with my family. Tori and I decided we would ask for a family meeting to break the news when Kelly and Julie were home for Thanksgiving. I had already told my family earlier that year that I was gay, and that was stressful enough. Telling them that I was seeing a counselor because I thought I was a woman trapped in a man's body was a hundred times worse.

Mom took a while to come around, but Kelly and Julie didn't really seem that surprised. They said they always kind of knew that I wasn't like all the other boys. Daddy took it very badly, as I expected. He never could understand why I wasn't a 'normal' boy, even over such harmless things as preferring art and music to football and hunting. When Mom finally joined my sisters and pledged her support, it was the end of Dad's rope. He moved out by Christmas. He hasn't spoken to me since. Mom, Julie, Kelly and especially Tori have been really supportive about everything from that time forward.

Not long after my parents divorced, Mom's father died. Grandpa Harry left us each of us a generous trust fund in his will. Since I was already 18 I used some of the money to pay for my gender transition counseling. The doctor told me right up front that he wasn't going to let me rush into this, so I didn't start hormone therapy until after graduation.

That last semester in High School was very hard for me. I wanted so much to just be a girl, but Tori and Mom and my counselor convinced me that it would be better to finish high school as a boy. The compromise was that Mom and Tori would be my tutors on the weekends. We'd get all dressed up and go shopping on the other side of town where nobody would recognize us. I got lots of practice at being a girl. Once Tori and I graduated, I started hormones and lived as a female full time.

The problem was going to be college. I had applied for school as a boy, so it took a lot of phone calls and a couple of letters from a lawyer to get my status changed from male to transgendered. Tori and I got an apartment off campus, and for all anyone knew we were just twin sisters. We never told anyone anything different.

I was trying to be a conscientious student on top of all the counseling and everything, so my only actual sexual experience was when Tori and I celebrated our 21st birthdays with her boyfriend. We were all really drunk and he'd been flirting with us both the whole evening, finally being so bold as to suggest a threesome. Tori and I discussed it in the ladies' room of the bar and she finally decided that I needed at least some experience with a man, but would tell him she drew the line at letting him actually fuck her sister.

Tori and I alternated making out with him (he was a really good kisser) as he slowly stripped us of our tops and bras and spent a lot of time sucking our nipples and squeezing our asses. It felt really good and I was nearly as aroused as my sister was. Finally, we paired up to give him a blowjob. When one of us was sucking on the head of his cock, the other was either licking his shaft or sucking his balls, and we teased him along for what had to be a half hour. I bet he'll remember that blowjob for the rest of his life. I know I'll always remember him cumming in my mouth. I climaxed the very instant the first shot of his cum spurted onto my tongue, and I swallowed his entire load without even thinking. After that, I left the room and took a shower before turning in for the night. The rhythmic sound of Tori's bed creaking as they made love soothed me to sleep.

It was almost like coming out of a dream when I pulled up in front of Mr. Joe's house. Trying my best to calm my nerves, I knocked at his door. I tried my best to smile when the door creaked open and he peered out at me. He looked the same as I remembered him, except now he had a touch of gray at his temples.

'Can I help you?' he asked.

'Yes, Mr. Joe, ' I said. 'I'm Alex. Alex McMannis.'

He stood there for a long speechless moment, staring in shock while he tried to reconcile the sight of me, a woman of 25, with the memory of that young boy who had lived next door.

'I should go, ' I choked. I started to turn away as my eyes filled with tears. 'This wasn't a good idea. You're probably disgusted by me.'

'Alex, wait, ' he stammered. 'I'm not disgusted. I'm just very, very surprised. I wasn't expecting... '

'You weren't expecting me to be a girl?' I finished his sentence.

'Yeah, ' he laughed nervously, 'That's definitely a surprise, but I'm still glad you came to visit. Why don't you come in?'

'Are you sure?' I asked hopefully.

'Alex, ' he scolded. 'How many hours did you spend in this house, instead of your own, because we would let you be yourself and not judge you?'

'That's why I always loved you and Miss Jean, ' I replied as he stepped aside to let me in the house. When he'd shut the door and turned to me, I wrapped my arms around him and burst into tears. 'Thank you, Mr. Joe, ' I don't know what I would've done if you'd turned me away.'

'Alex, ' he said gently as he held me in his strong arms. 'It's OK. Everything's alright.'

He had to repeat himself a few times before I quit sobbing and loosened my grip around his ribs. By then I was sorry to let him go. He was so masculine and smelled so nice that I was beginning to enjoy holding onto him so tightly, but I finally composed myself and stepped back.

'Thank you, Mr. Joe, ' I sniffed. 'I'm sorry for being so emotional, but I've been really scared about coming to visit. I was so afraid you wouldn't want to have anything to do with me.'

'House rule: no judging, ' he said again, just as I'd hoped he would.

'How could I forget?' I smiled. 'You drilled that into our heads over and over.'

'Anyway, Alex, ' he said. 'I've forgotten my manners. Come on into the den and lets start catching up. Can I get you some lemonade or something?'

'Just some ice water, thanks, ' I said as I followed him into the den and seated myself demurely on the familiar wing chair by the front window. He came back to the room with my water and lemonade for himself, and sat on the loveseat across from me. He just sat there and looked at me for the longest time. I'm sure he was still trying not to judge, still trying to wrap his head around the concept of Alex the woman.

'This room just doesn't seem the same without the twin stack Marshalls, ' I said after a while, trying to break the awkward silence in the room, 'but I'm glad to see you have that nice Les Paul to take its place.' It was a top of the line Gibson Les Paul Special that probably cost several thousand dollars, so yes, it was a nice guitar.

'I had to have something to play, after all, ' he said with grin. 'Do you still have the Telly and the amps?'

'Oh, yes, Mr. Joe!' I smiled. 'I can never thank you enough for giving them to me. I started a band just a few weeks after we moved there.'

I continued to catch Mr. Joe up on my life since my family had moved away and he seemed to be paying rapt attention to my story. I also noticed that he studiously avoided asking me for details about my transition. I don't know if he was just letting me tell that part of my story for myself or whether he might be squicked at finding out I still had some boy parts, but he, as always, was sincerely interested in my life. That's something I had always loved about Mr. Joe: he truly cared about me.

'But enough about me, ' I finally said 'What about you, Mr. Joe? I heard from Mom that Miss Jean died, but she didn't know much of the story.'

'It was three years ago, Alex, ' he replied as the tears began to fill his kind blue eyes. 'She was on her way home from an evening shift at work and was hit by a drunk driver.' That was all he could say before he broke down completely. I moved over to the sofa to sit beside him. Now it was my turn to helplessly pat his shoulder and tell him it was all going to be OK.

When he finally regained his composure, he immediately steered the conversation away from memories of Miss Jean and toward what Mom and my sisters were doing. I told him that Kelly and Julie had both gotten married and that Kelly was expecting my first niece in about six months. I showed him pictures from our family vacation at spring break and he commented about a picture of us all girls at the beach house, Mom (Kirsten) with my sisters Kelly, Julie, Tori and me, all of us in bikini tops and shorts, happily smiling for the camera with our arms around each other. I love that photo. Even studying it closely, there's no way you could guess that I had once been this woman's son, or the brother of these beautiful women.

'Nobody has to look twice to see that you're all related, ' Mr. Joe laughed. 'You always did look a lot like Tori. In fact, I'll admit I thought it was her playing a joke on me when I answered the door.'

'It's easy to tell us apart, Mr. Joe. I'm taller, and she's curvier, ' I giggled.

'Not that much curvier, from what I can see, ' he said with a wink as he handed my phone back.

Did Mr. Joe just give me a flirty wink with that compliment? I thought to myself. The very idea that Joe Harrison, the man I admired back when I was a boy; the man that, if I were truly honest, I had a bigger crush on than any of my sisters, was flirting with me made me flush with desire. Believe me, flushing with desire wasn't something I had much experience with. There were too many hormones and hormone blockers floating around in my bloodstream for that to happen on a regular basis. My doctor said that, physically, my male parts were still functional but that I was unlikely to experience a full erection without some extraordinary stimulus.

Extraordinary stimulus was sitting right next to me and I was blushing with arousal from my forehead down to my breasts. All the time we lived in the house next door, Mr. Joe's approval was the one thing I wanted most. When he would compliment me on a drawing or tell me I played a guitar riff really well, I would be on cloud nine for the rest of the day, and every compliment made me want to try that much harder to get another. Now he had complimented my curves. Wow! For the first time in years, my little boy-part was trying to grow hard. Fortunately my underwear was designed to hold everything in place. Still, I squirmed in my chair just a bit to make a little extra room.

Eventually we realized that we'd talked all afternoon and, after he got me to admit that I was a little hungry, suggested that we walk down to a little diner a few blocks away for some dinner. Mr. Joe offered me his arm like a gallant gentleman and I gladly took it as we started down the sidewalk on that summer afternoon.

Over dinner we did even more catching up (ten years is a long time) but the conversation eventually devolved into the easy banter and wordplay of old friends. It was dark outside and I think the staff was ready to push us out the door by the time we finally started back to Mr. Joe's house, once again with me on his arm. It felt so right to be around this man that part of me was dreading the time when I'd have to go back to my apartment. I didn't want the magic to end.

Standing just inside the door, I started trying to make an exit, even though I really didn't want to go. 'Mr. Joe, ' I stammered, 'I probably should get back to my apartmentÉ'

His strong arms enveloped me in a tight hug and I melted against him, my heart about to burst from the love I felt for this man. When his grip on me loosened, I looked up into his eyes. As I tried to find the words to tell him that it had been wonderful to see him and for us to catch up on each other's lives, his lips descended on mine in a tender kiss. Well, it started out as a tender kiss, but then my tongue betrayed me by slipping out to seek entrance to his mouth. Ten minutes later, at least, we were still kissing. Both of us were breathing raggedly by then and I could feel a sizable erection bumping against my abdomen. I was feeling some stirrings from the boy parts tucked away in my panties, too.

Our hands started roaming about that same time, beginning with his strong hands clasping my butt cheeks. (I paid him back for that with a few gropes of his muscular backside.) Then I began to feel the hem of my sundress creeping up the backs of my thighs. I knew I'd be a lost cause if he got those marvelous hands under my silky panties and onto my skin, but I really wanted to be a lost cause at that point. That's when I moaned and pressed my belly even tighter against his throbbing cock.

I felt one of Mr. Joe's hands leave its home on my butt cheek, but it soon showed up at the side of my breast as it began to seek a new home. I turned slightly in his arms to make the visitor welcome and Mr. Joe's warm right hand was soon gently squeezing my left boob through my clothes and bra. I can't begin to tell you how wonderful that felt to me.

I finally got brave and slipped a trembling hand down between us to grasp at Mr. Joe's hard-on. It felt huge to me, but you have to remember that I'd only had one experience with a real cock before, and Tori said that one was average at best. Mr. Joe felt much bigger than that one.

When Mr. Joe felt my hand on his dick, he pulled away from our feverish kissing and looked at me with a questioning look. I whispered, 'Please!' I wasn't sure if that meant 'please let me leave before we do something stupid, ' or 'please fuck me, ' but the next thing I knew I was scooped up is his arms and on the way to the bedroom. He gently lowered me back to my feet and we stood beside the bed and kissed again, just like we had been doing in the entryway.

I sighed almost petulantly when Mr. Joe broke our kiss and moved around behind me. His hands, usually so calm and steady, were trembling, making him fumble as he tried to lower the zipper down the back of my dress. Once the zipper was down, he guided my shoulders and turned me around. We kissed again, very tenderly compared to how frantic we had been just moments before, then he stepped back and started to ease my dress off my shoulders. The expression on his face can only be described as reverent as he slowly slid the dress away, revealing the delicate lace bra that I wore under the dress. Once the dress was free of my arms, Mr. Joe let go and it slid down my slim body and became a puddle at my feet.

We kissed again, hungry for the taste of each other, but I broke away. It was his turn to sigh in disappointment, but I doubt he minded too much because I quickly began to unbutton his shirt, revealing his strong chest with its sparse dusting of dark chest hair. When I had undone all the buttons down to his waist, I tugged the tail of his shirt out of his jeans to get the last couple of buttons. Then it was my turn to get that awe-struck expression on my face as his body was revealed to me. I couldn't resist hugging him right then, rubbing my face against his masculine chest and breathing deeply of his manly aroma.

I couldn't stop there, though. I fumbled at his belt. It frustrated me by not cooperating, but that was nothing to the obstacle that was his button-front Levis. I just couldn't get those buttons undone! Mr. Joe only let me stay frustrated for a few seconds, though. Chuckling, he gave the waistband of his jeans a jerk, one side to the left, the other to the right, and the buttons were all open. He kicked off his loafers as I dropped to my knees in front of him, then I slid his Levis and his boxers down below his knees in one quick motion.

When his cock sprang up before my eyes, I drew in a deep breath. Tori's old boyfriend had what she described as an average-sized cock and it had seemed big enough to me at the time, but Mr. Joe had something that belonged on a porn star.

I giggled, which even with my inexperience I knew was the wrong thing to do. 'I'm sorry, ' I told Mr. Joe. 'It's just that my sisters, especially Julie and Kelly, used to try and guess how big this thing is, and it's me that got to find out. Should I tell them it's even bigger than they guessed it would be?'

He grinned down at me and I winked back before I took the head of that wonderful instrument in my mouth for a quick suck. There was already a big bead of pre-cum oozing from the slit and I savored the sweetness of it on my tongue. I wanted to coax more of that from him but he gently guided me back to my feet. We kissed again, as hungrily as ever while he expertly popped the hooks on my bra. We moved apart again, letting the lacy fabric fall away from my little A-cups.

I was suddenly shy. I can't explain it. I know my boobs are little. The doctors told me when I first started on hormones that I'd probably end up a cup size smaller than the rest of the women in my family and they were right. My three sisters were all barely B-cups, and Mom was only marginally bigger, while I stalled out with a pair of A-cups. On the bright side, they're perfectly symmetrical cones topped with puffy, inch-and-a-half-wide pink nipples. Tori's boyfriend certainly seemed to enjoy them that one night.

Mr. Joe wasn't going to stand for my shyness, though. Taking my hands in his, he gently pulled my arms away from my chest and gazed admiringly at me.

'They're small, ' I began.

'They're perfect, ' Mr. Joe whispered. 'You're perfect, Alex.'

I mashed myself against him again, wanting to hug him forever, but he scooped me up in his arms again and took the three steps to his bed and gently put me down. He tenderly pushed against my shoulders, urging me to lie back. He bent over me for a sweet kiss before he moved farther down the bed and tugged at the waistband of my panties.

I wanted to panic. 'Mr. Joe's going to see my cock, ' I fretted to myself, 'and then he's going to throw me out.' I'd heard a few horror stories like that from other trans women during group counseling sessions and I'd seen some bruises, too.

Mr. Joe sensed my tension and soothed me. 'No judging, remember?' he whispered. 'Everything will be OK.'

I smiled weakly at him as he sat by my feet. He tugged at the panties again and I assisted him this time, lifting my hips to let the skimpy garment slide down my legs. I still held my breath, though. There was no hiding the fact that I had a penis and testicles; there was no way to know how Mr. Joe would actually take this, despite his reassurances that he wouldn't judge.

The truth is that my uncut little penis, still only about half hard despite my arousal, was lucky to be four inches long and my testicles were the size of cherries in a little sac that hugged itself tightly against my body. Except for the lush patch of red pubic hair that I leave there by choice, it looks like the genitals of a little boy. He moved to take it into his mouth and I tried to get away. 'You don't have to suck me, Mr. Joe. I know you're not gay.'

'Alex, I have never in my life made love to a woman unless I've gone down on her first. You are a very beautiful woman, Alex, and I intend to make love to you, so I'm going to do this.'

He took my entire little penis in his mouth and then licked my balls at the same time.

'Oh, god, Mr. Joe, ' I moaned.

He didn't suck very long. Maybe the thought of sucking a cock started to bother him, or maybe he somehow sensed that I didn't really like being reminded that I still retained that last vestige of masculinity, I'm not sure. Having my cock sucked for the first time ever in my life did feel really nice, though. Part of me was almost sorry he stopped.

Mr. Joe very gently rolled me over on my tummy and straddled my butt and gave me what felt like the most sensuous backrub in the history of massage. He took his time, stroking my back and shoulders, leaning forward to kiss my neck and whisper in my ear, telling me how beautiful and sexy I was. The love and tenderness of this massage was arousing enough. My little cock was the hardest it had been since before the hormone treatments began. Feeling his big hard erection pressing between my butt cheeks multiplied my sexual excitement exponentially, and I could feel beads of pre-cum oozing from me, making a puddle under my lower belly.

It took him what felt like forever before he scooted down to straddle my thighs and begin to sensuously prepare my virgin backside for his beautiful erection to penetrate. Urging me to lift myself up, he placed a couple of pillows under my hips, then he settled me back down onto them and began kissing me everywhere from the small of my back to the backs of my knees.

His kisses turned to little love bites as he began to concentrate on my buttocks. Strong hands gently spread my knees farther apart, opening me even more to his hungry mouth as his kisses and love bites spiraled inward, moving steadily toward the cleft between my buttocks. The love bites gave way to hungry licking and he pulled my cheeks apart and ran his tongue from my scrotum to my tailbone. Gradually he focused closer and closer to my center until my whole universe was nothing more than his tongue swirling around and probing my anus. I could feel my tiny little penis oozing pre-cum, and was surprised that I could even make that fluid anymore.

After a heavenly eternity, Mr. Joe pulled his face from between my cheeks. I heard a click and a little 'splurt' sound, then felt the chill of cold lube at my entrance. He whispered soothing words to me as he began working the lube into my channel with a finger. As I became accustomed to that intruder, he added even more lube and began to work a second finger into me. It was only a little uncomfortable, and his soothing words and his gentle touch kept me relaxed while he prepared me for the main event.

Apparently satisfied that I was ready for him, Mr. Joe rolled me onto my side, curled up like a fetus, and moved behind me with his lubricated cock. I felt his strong hand lift up my ass cheeks; the lube on my sphincter chilling as the air hit it. The warmth of his cock quickly replaced the coolness as he moved into place behind me. Once his cock was in position, poised at my entrance, he kissed the back of my neck and whispered soothing words to me. I've never felt so loved in my life as I did at that moment, anticipating penetration by the man I'd wanted for so long.

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