Giving Is Receiving: A Bottom's Storybydicknbottoms©
It all started when I accidentally came across a site called "Literotica." I am not sure what I was looking for but was interested in sex and passion, since my wife decided over twelve years ago that she did not like sex or at least with me. So, seven months ago, I turned to Literotica online to discover what pornographic stories were like. After many hours of reading about lesbian sex, frigid wives made to have horny sex, forced lesbian, forced wife into slut sex, I was curious about how or why straight guys turned into cock-sucking, sperm loving, anal pussy poked sluts.
Now you got to know that I have always liked girls and women. I like their bodies, their hair, their hips, their lips, their eyes, their thighs, their neck, their breasts, their tummy, their pussy, their legs. I love their softness, tenderness, their attention, touch and passion.
I don't think I ever consciously thought that I wanted to be a woman.
However, in the back of my mind, I wondered what it would feel like to wear their panties and slips, to be desired and touched.
I always liked seeing women naked. I am small boned, thin (most of my life), been told I have a nice ass, and I have very little body hair and never could grow a mustache that looked like a mustache. My older brothers use to tell me I should have been a girl. As I passed fifty and gained a little weight, my chest formed small breasts. I have always needed to be hugged, held, caressed and kissed. I craved intimacy. I need the attention of touch.
I never thought a naked man was attractive, in fact, I thought that their genitals and bodies were ugly. But after reading in Literotica about straight guys who were forced or blackmailed into giving blowjobs for the first time, or taking a cock in the rear for the first time then learned to like it, or forced to swallow loads of cum and become addicted to it or reading about the enjoyment received from being another man's bottom and cock-sucking whore, I began to fancy being a bottom to a big guy's top.
Having read those forced gay stories about how a turned straight wanted to please a man, feel a touch, passion, physical intimacy or wearing ladies things, after several months of reading, I would drift through the ladies shops in the department and discount stores. After some weeks, I started just looking at lingerie and then I progressed to touching and thinking about buying ladies undies.
Many weeks into my reading and self brainwashing, I worked up the courage to ask a sales clerk how to determine what sizes women wore for articles of lingerie such as slips, thigh high stockings, panties, baby doll pajamas, chemises, bras, etc. The silky, satin feeling of these female garments was fantastic and I wonder again what it might feel like to have them and wear them.
One afternoon, I was running a pair of white silky panties between my thumb and fingers, enjoying the touch, and fantasizing, when behind me a deep voice said, "I'll buy those for you if you will let me see you in them."
Embarrassed, I turned to see a very tall man in his forties, weighing perhaps 60-70 pounds more than me, standing about four feet directly behind me. He was dressed in business casual and appeared to be a professional businessman. This stranger with dark hair, brown eyes and a square jaw line on a nice but masculine face was looking at me. I am six feet tall and I had to raise my head to look at his face.
No one knew of my interest in ladies under garments or my self-induced fantasy. I just stood silently staring up at him for a few heart beats. Then I said, "Oh, no, I was just looking for a gift for my wife."
"My offer still stands," he said in his radio deep voice. "Are you sure they are for your wife or yourself?"
This was crazy; I was caught, fortunately by a stranger. I was embarrassed but part of me that had been practically brainwashed by all the stories of straight guys loving being a bottom, the taste of male love juice and the organism that comes from being repeatedly anally penetrated by a man was saying, "Do it. Do it!"
In a low voice I said, "If I agree, you mustn't
tell anyone, I would be so ashamed."
"I was looking at you from behind as you were trying to be so sneaky about touching those panties, I thought you would look good in them." the tall stranger said. "Now that I see your face and front, why don't I buy you a slip to go with the panties? What size should I buy for you?"
"Some weeks ago, a sales lady said that someone with my waist, hips and chest measurements would be a size 2x or 3x. I have never bought ladies lingerie before, so I'm not sure how they might fit. " I quietly replied.
"Let's get the 2x size, I would rather they fit you tight than loose, he said." "You pick the panties and slip from the racks, hand them to me and follow me to the checkout stand. OK?"
"Yes," I almost whispered as I quickly looked around to see if someone I knew was watching, pulling the white panties and slip from the rack. He took the slip and panties from me. We headed to checkout.
"Oh, wait a minute, he declared, "You will need a woman's razor specially designed for shaving legs, under arms and other private areas. You will want some make up, like mascara, lipstick, perfume and an enema kit that you can reuse as needed."
"What, are you crazy, I did not agree to anything but to let you see me in the panties and slip? I can't pretend to be a woman."
He just held up the panties and slip and said, "You know you want this, now is you opportunity. I find you attractive and if you pick up those items and use them, you will look sensational in the lingerie. "Meet me at checkout," he said in a commanding tone, as he handed me back the slip and panties.
I went to the cosmetics aisle and selected a red shade of lipstick, some dark mascara, skin lotion and perfume. In the drug department, I found the razor and shaving cream for women, but I had to ask a clerk, where the enema bags and items were. I thought she looked at me a little strange, so I mumbled, "This stuff is for my wife, and she couldn't shop today."
I walked toward the checkout counters and saw him towering above everyone else. He saw me coming, smiled and motioned for me to get in line next to him. He held a bag of something that he had just purchased.
As we stood in line to checkout, I was nearly red faced with embarrassment holding the white slip, panties, make-up, lotion and the enema supplies. This was wrong and crazy.
Why was I feeling excited?
He paid and as we walked toward the door he asked if I knew where the Willow Valley Apartments were and I replied that I did. He said that when we got there, I had to follow him close through the entrance so the security gate would stay open as we went through together bumper to bumper.
As I followed him, I realized I did not even know his name or if he was insane, or a stalker, killer of older married men who touched women's panties? I thought about what if someone finds out that I dressed in a slip and panties for another man and told my wife or my friends?
I kept following and driving.
As I approached the apartment entrance and pulled close to his back bumper, he was punching in a security code to open the gate. We drove through. I followed him to one of the many complexes and his apartment was near one of the complex pools. He parked, took all the bags we had purchased from his car and waited for me to come to him.
As I climbed from my car, he said, "Take your packages and follow me to the elevator."
I did as I was told and as we waited for the apartment elevator, he dropped the bag that he had purchased before I met him at the checkout stand. The contents came out and I saw two cucumbers about the same length 7 or 8 inches, but one was at least an 2 inches in diameter and the other was maybe an inch and a half wide. He politely asked, me to pick them up and put them back in the sack and carry them in with my two bags. I could only imagine how those vegetables might be used.
The elevator arrived. We entered and as it ascended to the sixth level, the tall man said, "When we enter the apartment, you will take off all your clothes, place them neatly on a chair in the living room and stand in front of the couch. Don't say anything and don't move unless I tell you, got it?"
By this time the doors of the elevator opened, he put his arm around my shoulders and walked me to his front door about four units from the elevator. He unlocked the door, opened it and placing his arm around me again, escorted me through the front door. He switched on the lights.
He took the sacks from me, placed them on a coffee table and pointed to an arm chair next to a large stuffed couch. He crossed his arms and looked at me and gave me a silent command as he pointed and wave his arm to tell me to proceed.
I have never underdressed in front of a man who was not either a doctor, or in a gym class at school. I was nervous, self-conscious and little excited, too.
I did not make a show, I sat in the chair untied my shoes, took off my socks, stood up, took off my Izod knit shirt, my blue jeans and folded them up and put on the arm chair. I was standing in my boxers, in a strange apartment of a stranger, who offered to buy me panties if he could see me in them.
I placed my thumbs and fingers in the waistband of my shorts and pulled them down to my ankles, having already bent over; I lifted one foot and then the other. It occurred to me that from his vantage point I was displaying my back and my naked ass, as I bent over to pick up my boxers.
I placed my underwear on the pile of clothes in the arm chair in his apartment.
Buck naked, nervous, embarrassed and becoming horny, I walked about eight feet toward the expensive stuffed couch and stood four feet from the couch.
From behind me he said, "You can call me John that is not my real name, but you will call me either John or Sir. Do you understand?" As he said this, he walked by me slowing, running his hands across my exposed hips and softly squeezing my right ass cheek, patted my butt and sat down on the coach.
"Yes, John, I understand."
"When you are with me, you will respond to the name "Sweetie" because you have a sweet sexy ass and small girly breast. What is your name?"
"Sweetie, my name is Sweetie, John."
"Walk over here and stand directly in front of me, Sweetie."
I took one and a half steps toward the sofa. John's eyes, nose, mouth and face were slightly higher and nearly aligned with my genitals. I was slightly aroused, but my nervousness and fear kept me from being hard.
As he reached out and began squeezing my breast and pinching my nipples, something no one had ever done, he leaned in and kissed then sucked both my breasts. It felt strange, erotic and good all at the same time. When he bit on my nipples I felt a tingle of pain and pleasure I had never had.
He proceeded to run his hands down my stomach and over my thighs, as he worked on my small breasts. I was hard. He stopped pleasing my breasts and said, "Sweetie, when I take my hands away from your dick and your balls, I want you to go into the third door on your left with your bags.
I was excited by his sucking and kissing my breast, by his slowly masturbating me. Someone was touching me and wanted me for their pleasure. I needed attention and to be touched all my life. I wanted more. He was gentle rubbing and massaging my balls and penis as he was speaking to me.
"I want you to take a quick shower and shave all hair from your neck down to your toes. From what I see, you won't have much to shave anywhere. Sweetie, have you recently shaved your legs and crouch?"
It was obvious that I had, so I said, "Yes, sir, I did about two weeks ago, while having a fantasy about this very moment.'
Continuing to slowing play with my now enlarge dick of 5.5 inches and balls, he ran his hands around my thighs to my lower hips and began squeezing and rubbing them. He rubbed my dick with one hand and with the other John began to run his index finger into my butt crack.
He then moved his hand from my hips and crack moving his fingers to my anus. He pushed against my anus with his index finger, never penetrating just teasing. He teased my ass with his probing for several moments, and then John moved that finger to my lips and told me to lick it and suck it.
As he massaged my engorged dick, I licked and sucked his index finger. I kissed it up and down, licking nail to hand, sucking in all into my wet mouth. I thought I heard myself moan a little.
He told me that he was going to push that finger into my ass and I had better get it good and wet. John said that I should suck his finger the way that I was going to suck his dick, after I showered, shaved, used the enema bag, put on the make-up, perfume and modeled the slip and panties.
After a few minutes of sucking his finger, while he played with my dick and balls, he pulled his index finger from my mouth and pushed it slowly into my ass. It did not hurt. He pushed in up to where his finger met his hand.
He had big hands and larger than normal fingers. His index finger was more than four inches long and slightly more than an inch wide. John pushed his finger in and out of my rectum slowly. In and out, in and out, in and out, slow then fast, fast then slow, in and out.
It felt invasive but it felt good. It did not hurt. I could feel my cock reacting. I had not had physical sex for over a decade. No one had touched me in an intimate way for years. I loved the attention, the feeling, the stroking. I was so close to Cumming.
Then unexpectedly, as I was beginning to hump his finger, he pulled his finger out and stopped touching me.
"Sweetie, he said softly, go get your shower, do your maintenance and come back dressed in your lingerie and make-up. Come back in here. I will be waiting. Make sure you shave all your hair especially around your dick, balls and ass. Look sexy for me, Sweetie, now go."
I did as he instructed. Since I had shaved myself before, it did not take me long. As I soaped myself in the shower, I almost paid too much attention to my erection. I have had only hands on sex for too long and wanted another person to assist me to share my passion's product with me.
Enemas were an experience I had as a small child with constipation problems. My mother would use a large rubber water bag with a four foot tube like hose with an end attachment. She placed Vaseline on the attachment, which was as narrow as my little finger, and pushed it three or four inches in my butt hole. She then released a clap and the water rush into my butt from the rubber bag that she held high.
The item before me was a model forty years advanced, but worked on the same principle, except it had a plugging device that forced the soapy solution into my ass. The instruction said to hold it in for five or ten minutes. I waited until I felt crapping and was no longer able to retain the quart of liquid.
I cleaned up and thought to put skin lotion on and place a generous gob up my rear, just in case.
The only time I wore makeup was when I was in high school or college plays and I put it on or someone else put it on me. I remember some of the techniques, but I had never applied lipstick before now. I watched my mom and my wife put lipstick on, so I had a good idea how to do it.
The red lipstick made my lips look fuller. I looked in the mirror and looked away. I wasn't even close to being pretty. I looked like a naked guy with make-up on. I needed a wig or plastic surgery.
Finishing my self criticism, I took the tags off of the white satin panties and pulled them up my smooth legs, hips and genitals. It felt great. Size 2x was too small.
The panties were very tight around my waist. My hips were visible as were my balls and cock. My hips looked like a girls butt in the white panties. The garment felt soft, silky... sexy.
I reached for the white slip, somehow white seem coincidentally appropriate. I it pulled over my head? Tugging the slip over my shoulders was a little difficult, but it came down over my breasts, stomach, panties and thighs.
The slip was so tight my small breasts actual tented the material across my chest. My "breasts" were about three inches long and two inches high and stood out about an inch. My small, quarter sized nipples were elongated like a football and pushed against the silky satin.
Looking in the bathroom mirror, I could see curves in the right places, except for the bulge of my frontal package.
Somehow, the silky panties and slip made me feel feminine and sexy.
I wanted to be possessed and desired, touched and bonded intimately with another person all of which was lost to me in marriage by my mate's unilateral decision not to be sexually intimate. Her fault, my fault, she decided, "No more."
I took another quick look in the mirror and walked to the living room with as sexy a walk that I could with one bare foot in front of the other take short steps.
As I came into the living room and headed to stand in front of the couch, the satin fabric of my panties and slip sent chills through me. I began to become erect. Have you ever run silk or satin across your naked crouch? Well, you know the feeling.
John was sitting on the sofa in a bath robe. He was sipping some sort of drink and turned to watch me waltz in and station myself in front for him.
"You look so sexy," he said. "The slip clings tightly to you and makes your breasts and ass stick out great." "Here, put this on and pose for me'' he said as he handed me a long, red hair wig.
I took the wig and placed it on my head and shaking my head back and forth causing the hair to move a few inches below my shoulders.
"Go over to the entry closet and look at yourself in the mirror. You look beautiful and so feminine."
I walked over to the entry closet, walking sexy and purposefully trying to sway my hips. I open the closet door and a light automatically came on as I turned to look in the full length mirror on back of the door. Wow! What a change? I knew who I was, but didn't.
I was attractive and could pass for female. The red hair wig flowed over my shoulders and bangs covered half of my forehead. I unconsciously began to run my hands over my chest, stomach, hips, thighs and back again.
"Come over here and pose for me," John commanded. "I want to see you in your panties."
I did my best sexy walk, swinging my hips as I walked the twenty feet or so back to the couch where John sat with a tent formed waist high on his robe.
I couldn't believe that I was turning him on that I was sexually appealing to him or anyone. After twelve years of sexual rejections, I lost all confidence in ever appealing to any person again. Was I hot and hard!
As I reached the sofa, he put out his arms and I went straight to sit on his lap and his hardness. I felt his hard dick pressing against my butt. He wrapped his large arms around me and began moving his hands all over me, especially my breasts and thighs.
He leaned into me and kissed me on the lips. I never had a man kiss me on the lips. I hesitated until he began rubbing my cock that had caused the tent in my slip. I kissed back. It wasn't that horrible. As he began to french me, I began to like it and returned tongue for tongue.
I wasn't in control, John was. During all this, I felt his concrete cock pushing into my panty coverage ass crack.
He began to run his hands down my stomach and over my dick and on to my thighs, squeezing them. He slid his hand under my slip and proceeded to caress my balls and cock through my panties.
John pulled up my slip and brought it up carefully over my head. He leaned down and began to kiss my nipples and gently bite my nipples. I actually heard myself groan in pleasure as he administered to my breast with his tongue, lips and teeth as well as massaging my cock and balls.