Chapter 5

Dale parked in the garage and led Tiffany into the house. Before the door closed and latched they were in a tight embrace and kissing deep passionate kisses. “You are so beautiful in that dress,” he said between kisses.

“I was getting looks,” she replied.

“I know. When you walked into that dining room, guys stopped and stared.”

“Doesn’t that bother you?”

He smiled. “Not in the least.”

“Well, it bothered me. I don’t like being the center of attention.”

He kissed her again. “God, how I love you.”

“I know you do, Dale. I feel your love all the time. When I’m in your arms I have not a single care.”

Holding hands they ascended the stairs to the master bedroom. “Let me draw your bath.”

“I can hardly wait.”

“Neither can I,” he replied. “I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to gaze on all your beautiful brown skin.”

He stepped into the en suite and started filling the tub. Tiffany entered the bathroom wearing her knee-length robe, her hair up in a bun. “Water is almost ready.” He turned off the tap.

Tiffany slipped out of her robe. He supported her as she stepped into the tub and sat down, the water coming to her armpits. “This is a deep tub,” she remarked. “It’s quite a luxury. I could get used to this.”

“This tub hasn’t been used since Brenda passed,” he said, “since I’m a shower guy.”

“I prefer showering, too, but I do like a soak now and then.”

“Let’s see if the jets still work.” Dale manipulated a control and the water in the tub began to swirl. “Looks like they do. My folks had this bathroom re-done about twenty years ago. That’s when this tub was installed.”

“Turn it down a bit,” she said.

“It also has a bubble massage.” He operated another control.

“Ooh, I like this. It feels like I’m sitting in a glass of Champagne.”

“Speaking of which...”

Dale dashed downstairs to the kitchen and retrieved a bottle from the fridge. Heading to the wet bar, grabbed the ice bucket and two wine flutes.

“Here,” he said and handed one to her. He tore the foil from the bottle and removed the wire cage restraining the cork.

“More Champagne?”

He popped the cork. “This is only a half bottle -- good for about one pour each. Besides, a little buzz can be fun.” He filled her glass and his. They clinked rims and sipped.

“You really are making this special,” she remarked.

“About that back scrub...” he said.

“Use some of this.” She handed him a bottle of bath gel. He smeared some on her back and began scrubbing with a plastic scrubbie. “Careful not to get my hair wet.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“This feels so good, Dale. I have a routine -- I do my hair on Sundays and Wednesdays.” He handed her the scrubbie. Tiffany leaned back, her knees poking out of the water. She drained her glass and began scrubbing her arms.

“I’ll get you a refill,” he said. “There’s a little bit left -- enough for half a glass each.”

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” she asked. “We had cocktails and Champagne at the restaurant.”

“A little buzz adds to the fun, don’t you think?”

“I’m giddy already,” she replied and sipped from her glass. She closed her eyes and leaned back. “Mmm ... This feels so good.”

“Are you happy?”

“I’m very happy ... in a way I never expected to be.” She finished her glass and handed it to him.

“Anything else of that beautiful body need a scrub?”

“No. I think I’m done here.” She switched off the jets and bubbles and stood. Dale wrapped a bath towel around her. “I’ll need to finish up ... wash my face and brush my hair.”

“I’ll do some prepping in the bedroom.”

Dale turned down the covers and turned a nightstand lamp on low. He stripped to his briefs and put his clothes in the closet. From the closet he took a basket filled with washcloths and set it on the floor near the head of the bed. Then he slid between the sheets and rested his back against the headboard.

Tiffany emerged from the bathroom in her robe. She approached the bed, untied her robe’s belt and slipped out of it. Underneath she wore a bright red teddy made of shiny satin. The bodice was cut in a deep vee that extended to her sternum. Around her waist was a thin elastic belt holding a piece of the same satin fabric cut in the shape of a triangle. She turned around to model the back, cut like a thong with a thin ribbon between her buttocks.

Dale’s jaw dropped as he regarded her. “Do you like it?” she asked.

“I love it. I love how you look in it -- very sexy.”

“I like how I look in it, too. I have such a better body image since we’ve been together -- it’s done so much to improve my sense of self worth.”

“What’s with the flap?” he asked.

She lifted the triangle of fabric to expose her stiffly up-cocked phallus, protruding through an opening cut low in the front of the garment. “Peek-a-boo,” she said. “Wearing this has made me so horny.”

“I can tell. Where did you get it?”

“On-line. There’s a website run by a trans-woman, another college kid, I think. She designs lingerie for T-girls, pre-ops in particular, to accommodate our special anatomical needs.”

“How did you find out about her?”

“From Quinn’s blog.”

“She’s that T-girl you’ve been following?”

“Correct. Quinn is her pseudonym. I don’t know her real name.”

Dale patted the mattress between his legs. Tiffany sat between them and leaned against his chest. “This is my absolute favorite way to get things started,” she said. He held her around her waist and kissed the base of her neck. “I love feeling close like this.”

He looked down at her. The gown’s bodice covered her breasts like a coat of paint, her puffy areolas and small nipples discernible through the fabric. Dale ran his fingertips across her nipples. They firmed and made little bumps in the satin.

Tiffany gripped his legs, drew in a breath and let it out as a soft moan. “Mmm ... This feels so good.” As her nipples firmed under his touch he began pinching them between his thumbs and forefingers. “Mmm ... Do your left-right-left-right thing...” He gave her nipples languid squeezes alternating side to side. “Oh, I love this,” she purred.

Dale slid her shoulder straps down her arms, lowering her bodice and exposing her compact breasts. He resumed his fondling of her nipples, skin-on-skin. Tiffany rolled her face to one side, her lips parted and her eyes closed. Dale watched her ribs and belly move as her breathing deepened.

She reached up, took his right hand and pressed it against the triangle of fabric covering her erection. “Feel how hard I am.”

Dale felt her shaft. “That is one stiff stiffy,” he replied.

“Make me come,” she said softly, “slow and gentle.”

Dale stroked her shaft from tip to base through the smooth and shiny red satin. Small wet spots appeared and he lifted the flap to begin stroking her stiff she-cock, skin-on-skin, now and then milking it for her slippery pre-cum.

He continued fondling her left breast and could feel her heartbeats growing faster and stronger. Dale began a rapid stroking of the underside of her glans using light pressure. “Just like that for a while,” she said softly. “It’s building ... feels so good...” She began panting.

“I can tell it’s building,” he replied, “you’re getting bigger and harder.” Dale reached down and took a washcloth from the basket and lay it underneath her shaft. “Don’t want to get your pretty gown all messy.”

“It’s washable...” she panted.

He resumed his light stroking of her glans. Her panting became vocal and he could feel her heart pounding. Dale began vigorously stroking her shaft full-length, pressing it against the washcloth. “You read my mind,” she panted. “I was just about to ask for more.”

“I read your heart,” he replied. “It told me you were ready for more.”

“Uh ... uh ... uh...” she panted and then let out a groan. Dale watched as blobs of her milky cum oozed onto the washcloth. He ran his fingers along the underside of her shaft, squeezing out the remaining drops. Gingerly he daubed her organ with the cloth, folded it in half and set it on the floor. He lowered the flap. “Look -- no mess.”

“Having a supply of cloths handy is genius, Dale. Did you do that with Brenda?”

“No -- it came to me in a flash with you. Why waste Kleenex?”

“Why, indeed? I hate waste ... Mmm ... Just hold me like this for a while. Kiss me if you like.”

“I do like.” He kissed and nuzzled her neck as he held her around her waist.

“I love the mellow feeling that comes after,” she said. “So satisfying. Now it’s my turn to play with you.”

“I thought we’d be in the mood for some anal conditioning,” he replied.

“You’re in the mood for it, no doubt.” Dale continued nuzzling the base of her neck. “What does this conditioning involve?” she asked.

“You need to train your bottom to admit a foreign object,” he replied. So, are you game?”

She lifted her shoulder straps and adjusted the bodice of her gown. “I said I’d try it and I keep my word. But if something’s going to be lodged in my butt, I want to have a look at it first. I didn’t have much of a chance last time.”

“Fair enough.” Dale lay on his back and lifted his buttocks off the mattress. Tiffany grasped the waistband of his briefs and slid them off his legs. She knelt by his hips and caressed his thighs.

“Very nice,” she said as she cupped her palm under his nut-sack. “Feels like a nice strong pair. Do you like having them played with?”

“Not so much -- they’re kinda sensitive.”

Tiffany wrapped her fingers around his stiffly erect phallus. “Very nice ... warm, meaty ... firm...” She slid her hand up and down his shaft.

“Not too big or scary,” he remarked.

“Just right, I think. Something is missing, though.”

“I was circumcised as an infant.”

“You told me you’re not Jewish.”

“I was born in the era where doctors were recommending to parents that their baby boys should be circumcised -- for better dick hygiene. These days, not so much.”

“Sort of like what Bryce’s parents had done to her.”

“Same mentality.” Tiffany kissed the underside of his shaft. “So, does it meet your approval?”

“Definitely.”

“Then, let’s get started.” He swung his feet to the floor. From under the bed he removed a small plastic tackle box.

“What’s that? she asked.

“Just some necessaries.” He opened the lid and removed a tube of personal lubricant. “Unfortunately you’re going to need to shed that lovely garment. My disappointment is tempered by knowing I’ll be seeing your beautiful and sexy nude body.” Tiffany slid the thin belt and flap down her legs and stepped from it. Then she slipped her arms from the shoulder straps, slid the teddy down and off her legs. “That definitely is a keeper,” he said. “You look terrific in it.”

“I’m happy with how I look in it. Now, how do you need me?”

“Let’s start with you lying on your tummy. I want to love up that beautiful bottom of yours.”

Tiffany lay on her belly. Dale began caressing her legs. “I love these gorgeous legs, Tiff ... the muscles in your calves ... the backs of your knees.” He kissed her legs and moved his hands up to her thighs. “Your skin is so smooth and taut ... and such a lovely shade of brown.” He caressed her buttocks. “Round and gorgeous. You have a sexy back, too.”

“This feels good ... helping me relax...”

“I want you to try to push aside any thoughts or pre-conceived notions about this part of your body. I want you to regard it as an un-discovered erogenous zone.”

“I will try.”

“Good...” Dale spread her buttocks and gazed upon her dark brown anus, darker than her nipples and in an oval patch of similarly pigmented skin. Kneeling on the floor beside the bed he leaned over and began licking her bottom, his tongue sensing each fold of her dark brown pucker.

“How can you do that?” she asked.

“You just had a thorough bath -- you’re clean here. Tiff -- I want you to try to get accustomed to being stimulated down here. I’m doing it out of love. I love you, I love every part of you including this.”

“I am trying.” He resumed rimming her anus with the tip of his tongue. “Actually,” she said, “once I get past my taboos, it feels ... pretty good.”

“Excellent.” Dale reached for the tube of lube. “Now I want you to lift up on your hands and knees ... lower your shoulders a little. Now, spread your knees a bit. Perfect.”

With his left hand Dale caressed her smooth round buttock, slipping his fingers into her crevasse and running their tips across her pucker. With his right hand he reached under her and languidly stroked her semi-erect she-dick. “I want you to begin associating touch here as something erotic and pleasurable,” he said. “Feels like it’s working,” he remarked as he pinched her hardening shaft.