Jemima's Tale Pt. 02

Part 1 - Lustful Thoughts

The week after I lost my virginity passed slowly, and I mean REALLY slowly.

I couldn't concentrate at work, couldn't relax at home, couldn't keep my mind on anything much at all except to retreat into my thoughts and try and relive that first, incredible, moment when I finally gave myself to another man.

I made some casual enquiries with old Mrs Tate across the road, and could barely contain myself on hearing that, yes, last week a man resembling the one I'd described had been in charge of the fitters installing a kitchen for her next-door neighbour - in fact, she even knew that his name was Steve, because she'd filled their kettle for them when the water was off...

Knowing his name really brought it home: I had actually allowed another man to use me sexually like a woman. I could feel that accepting his prick inside me had opened some kind of door that could never be closed again. When I had let a stranger named Steve fuck me (..down on all fours, taking it like a good bitch should...) until I came helplessly on my own living-room carpet, I had also let him make me his own.

Over and over, I daydreamed about how he had discovered me: down on my hands and knees, dressed up in my girly white lingerie, stockings and high heels. I had been totally caught out, right in the middle of acting out my fantasies as Jemima, wriggling my naked backside in the air while sucking lovingly on an 8-inch dildo for all I was worth... It brought a blush to my face every time I thought about it - but it didn't seem to stop me thinking about it...

Again and again, I recreated those incredible moments with the stranger I now knew as Steve: down on my knees, trembling before his penetrating gaze, the stomach-churning excitement of his warm prick growing hard in my mouth or the feel of his cool, masculine, hands running over my bare thighs and bottom.

Most importantly of all, I tried to relive the feelings that had coursed through me on being opened and entered by a stiff cock for the first time ever (...show him just how much you will be a slut for him...), and how being used like a woman had left me with such a wonderful, pulsing ache of satisfaction inside...

Truth be told, I was getting myself into a bit of a state.

I have to confess that one night - Sunday night, I think - I got so horny thinking about him that I got dressed up, exactly as I had when he'd discovered me, and went downstairs to re-enact my deflowering as best I could...

I stuck the dildo into the sofa again and made it good and wet with my mouth, then I got down on all fours and held my anus up against the shiny rounded head. I slowly backed onto the smooth pink shaft, pretending that it was Steve penetrating me all over again. Once it was all the way in, I began to rock backwards and forwards on the rigid latex phallus, fucking myself in sheer delight.

I was looking forward to a good long tension-relieving session but when my bum started slapping back into the cool leather sofa-cushion, the memory of Steve's powerful thighs slapping into me with each heavenly thrust of his prick into my bottom was so exciting that I came instantly, orgasming over-excitedly into my hastily cupped hand. As I came, my muscles clamped so hard round the dildo that it locked tightly in my anus until I grew quite worried. It took a good few minutes for my prick to soften and, to my relief, I unclenched and released the intruder onto the carpet.

This experience did not exactly ease my frustration or help me relax, instead, it made me feel even more out-of-sorts with my new self...

As the days past, my nervousness grew. He had definitely said he was going to return for me - "be ready", were the words he'd used - and every time I imagined his voice my stomach actually began to hurt.

There was a constant feeling - an excited combination of fear and arousal - that accompanied what little daily routine I could manage. I fantasised about his blue-grey eyes, his blonde hair, the brief touch of his moustache when he'd kissed me. I wanted to be kissed like that again.

I fantasised about him standing over me again, the worn 'ball' patches in his faded denims level with my vision, his taut package perfectly presented to my lips. Unable to resist, I repeatedly wanked myself to orgasm, reliving the incredible moment when I first unzipped those pale jeans, took his manhood into my waiting mouth and discovered the amazing reality of how it felt to lick and kiss and suck a beautiful stiff cock.

I did not even know his name, might never even see him again, but I knew that whatever happened in the future, at the moment when that man had pulled me back onto his prick and squirted his gorgeous creamy sperm up between my buttocks, he had claimed me as his property. If he came back (...please please come back and make me squeal like a girl again...), I prayed that I could be brave enough to do everything possible in order to satisfy him, my first true, male, lover.

Part 2 - Preparing for Pleasure

Inexorably slowly, the week did pass, and eventually the appointed day rolled round. I rang into work and claimed I was ill - I really could NOT stand being there for even one minute.

After a restless night - not even wanking had got me relaxed enough to sleep - I awoke and almost immediately started to plan for my important visitor. Clean the house, prepare the bedroom, then get myself ready to meet the new man in my life.

I tidied the bedroom, remaking the kingsize bed with my luxurious red pillowcases and sheets. Candles, incense, CD player ...adjust the dressing table mirror near the bed to an interesting angle... turn up the heating... at the last moment I would add some vodka and a couple of beers in an ice bucket. An open jar of vaseline on the bedside table left no doubt as to what was on my mind... (...oh please please let him want me as much as I want him...)

So, room sorted, next it was face and body basics to attend to, then I would take some time choosing what to wear for Jemima's second ever bout of lovemaking...

First a long soak in the bath - scented bubble bath was the order of the day. I sat and luxuriated for a while - so what would Jemima be dressed in for her liaison tonight? I rested my head back against the bath, took another sip of my vodka and lime, and wondered...

Surely it would be sensible to repeat last weeks performance - frilly baby-doll nightie and high heels, all in lovely virginal white. It had definitely seemed to work, propelling his gorgeous thrusting cock where it rightly belonged - straight into my waiting bottom - but perhaps a change of image might be better, to keep the juices really flowing, as it were?

I thought about presenting myself to him in my young-and-girly look (...gosh you're so big! I bet you could easily pick me up...): bubble-gum pink camisole and panties all covered with white hearts, white, thigh-length, hold-up stockings, trendy pink platform shoes (...a bit heavy when your legs are thrashing in the air, though?), chunky plastic jewellery and Pokemon hair band - you know the sort of thing... but perhaps it would all be a bit much.

My favourite uniform might also be a bit too 'TV' for my new man's taste - or would he enjoy me in my little French Maid's dress, bending over teasingly to persuade him to join in with my favourite roleplay game? (...firm smacks on the bum are needed to keep naughty Jemima in her place...).

It kept coming back to the fact that I didn't really know what had aroused him enough to want to have me, that first amazing time. I hoped against hope that it was Jemima's feminine sexuality that had turned him on, rather than simply the opportunity to relieve his lust in what was obviously a submissive male virgin...

Whether he was straight, gay or both, (...perhaps he went back home to fuck his girlfriend while all the time imagining sliding his prick between my smooth white buttocks ...) I had no practical experience of what men might find exciting about Jemima, I only knew what I fantasised about with men! Whichever way I turned, I knew I could easily be caught out.

So in the end, after much agonising and a few false starts, I decided to play safe and go for a classy-but-raunchy feminine boudoir look, hoping that it would give out the right signals. I would wear: my beautiful lined-lace teddiette in dark purple, with its taut suspenders, deep violet stockings in lace, my matching lacy panties, purple satin choker, purple lace opera gloves and of course, sexy high heels.

I would start the evening in my co-ordinating thigh-length ruffled lace robe, but who knows about later on?

The rich luxury of the underwear would contrast well with my smooth pale skin and, I reckoned, serve to accentuate my seductive curves nicely. If I could be brave enough, I planned to tantalise and excite my new lover until he wanted me so badly it hurt.

If he gave me the chance, I would willingly become his special girlfriend, who would let him do anything he ever dreamed about to her. I wanted to make him so happy that he'd be always be back for more and more...

Part 3 - The Look of Love

Outfit decided upon, I washed my hair with the shower, carefully shaved my legs and arms and chest, then spent quite some time trimming my pubes into a heart-shape.. yes it was corny, but I'd always wanted to do it for someone special and I found its suggestion of sexual invitation and display particularly exciting. It looked really good when I'd finished, and I completed my toilette by thoroughly cleaning myself inside, before using my cream to remove absolutely all foreign hairs from between the cheeks of my bottom - I wanted that part of my body to be totally pristine for my new boyfriend.

I finished my bath, dried my hair and body, then powdered all over. Toenails were trimmed extra short (...don't want ladders in those lovely lace stockings, do we?..) and painted dark violet. Finally, select squirts of perfume were applied to my pulse points, and I made myself giggle with a quick squirt in my bottom crack for good luck...

My make-up was quite dramatic - dark, almost black indigo lipstick with gloss, violet eyeshadow with gold highlights on the eyelids. Thick black mascara made my eyelashes simply divine. Nails were filed smooth and painted to match my toes. I brushed my shoulder-length fair-brown hair until it shone, tying it back using a lovely soft hair ribbon the same rich colour as the lipstick; dangly gold earrings contributed to the overall effect - vaguely vampy, a bit gothic but definitely worth paying attention to...

Time to get dressed!

First though, I couldn't help showing off my newly-shaped pubes in the wardrobe mirror. Completely naked but for make-up, hair ribbon and the purple satin choker, I pouted and wriggled for my new boyfriend, sensuously offering him the subtle curves of my breasts and hips, before more blatantly displaying the rounded cheeks of my bottom. I started to get really excited as I watched the reflection in the glass - a naughty, prick-teasing Jemima parading shamelessly about the room - first standing up on tip-toe, then bending over and caressing her own smooth backside - now stroking herself lewdly, and now staring straight into your eyes, pumping her hips up and down and crying out - acting like a girl who deserves to be caught, held down and given her come-uppance, the longer and harder the better...

In a panic, I grabbed a handful of scented tissues from the dressing-table and found myself messily ejaculating into them. It was a short, edgy orgasm (...not as good as with a bottom full of nice stiff prick...), and had completely taken me by surprise. I felt my face flush - what if he'd walked in on me, bringing myself off to my own reflection? I needed another drink!

After a while, I calmed down, went back into the bathroom to wash myself and dispose of the evidence, before finishing getting ready.

I climbed into the soft lace teddiette, delicately inserting my feet, before wriggling the garment up around my waist. I pulled up the straps and slid my arms through them, adjusting the purple elastic neatly over my shoulders. Instantly I felt like I was coming alive, and a familiar, unstoppable, warm buzz of pleasure spread through my groin once more.

I breathed in slightly before fastening the clips at my lower back. The lycra back clung tightly to my curves, its boning constricting my middle in a most agreeable fashion, emphasising the flare of my waist and finishing just above my hips with a trim of lovely ruffled lace. The underwired cups pushed my breasts up nicely, giving me a small but distinct cleavage, my nipples clearly visible through the violet lace.

Then my favourite part of any outfit - my hosiery!

I pulled on the purple lace stockings, enjoying the sensation of them clinging to my thighs, and straightening the seams carefully (...after all there is nothing more distracting than looking at crooked seams when you're mounting your new sissy girlfriend is there?...) and adjusting the back garter suspenders so that they stretched smoothly over my backside. The tug on the stockings served to emphasise the deliciously bare feeling of my naked bum.

I didn't possess any purple footwear, but my faithful three-inch gold heels - with long criss-cross straps that tied below the knee - matched beautifully. The purple lace opera gloves completed the 'take me' effect that I wanted to project.

I pulled the panties up to my waist, the tight lace at my groin helping to restrain my still-interested penis, before stepping into the high heels, winding the straps up my legs to tie with a bow below my knees. I felt thoroughly womanly and sexy in my lovely purple underwear - I just couldn't quite believe that someone else was going to see me in it (...please let it make him nice and hard for me...)!

As I sat at the dressing table to brush my hair and titivate my makeup, I looked in the mirror and saw Jemima positively aglow with anticipation at the evening to come. The large and sparkly eyes, the flush of excitement at her throat - this is what it looks like, I thought, when what you have been waiting for all your life is unbelievably about to happen again; when you know that there is another chance for your true, inner, self to be released... another chance to express the deep emotional need to give yourself sexually to another man...

Part 4 - Playing into His Hands

It started to get dark outside, just as it had when he had walked in on me the week previous. In the cosy red light of the bedroom, I sat and waited for him.

I poured myself a vodka-and-lime, didn't even stop to add ice, just drank it, then refreshed its glass. I adjusted the covers on the bed - yet again.

Restlessly, I stood in front of the full length wardrobe mirror once more, this time feeling a sharp pang of desire for the anxious-looking girl I could see, all by herself in her bedroom, but unmistakably dressed up for a night of passion.

Jemima turned round lightly, her robe swirling round to rest once more across the back of her stocking-tops. I watched in the mirror, entranced, as she bent slightly forwards from the waist and moved her feet apart slightly.

A short pause, then long-nailed fingers crept into view, reaching behind the back of her legs, grasping the ruffled hemline there and easing it upwards, uncovering parallel lines of suspender stretching up white thighs, until the lower curves of her bottom-cheeks were enticingly revealed. Firm, well-rounded, buttocks then appeared, well defined and taut in their tight prison of purple lace.

Still she leant forward, still she raised her robe, until at last she stood there on her three inch stilettoes, legs apart, bottom fully exposed and thrust up for the viewer's delectation. Her large-lashed eyes peered brightly over her left shoulder as if to say, "don't you want to have me then?". My gaze was drawn to the shadowy cleft between those proffered cheeks - it was an irresistible vision - and I felt myself growing hard at the thought of someone reaching out and sharply tugging those panties down her thighs. Smooth fingers would then curve down between those white, uncovered, buttocks, before sliding deliciously into the now-revealed crevice, and up into whatever moist, secret place might lie between them...

Sudden footsteps on the staircase gave me only enough time to straighten up, remove my guilty hand from my panties and whirl round to face the door before it opened. My heart was beating fast beneath the boned constriction of the teddiette as the only man who knew about my secret life entered the bedroom with the confidence of someone who knows he holds all the cards.

My first shocked thought was that he looked so smart and businesslike in full dark grey suit and tie - he'd obviously come straight from work - and as he looked at me I became acutely aware of my enticing frills and stockings. The contrast between our attire couldn't have been greater if he'd done it deliberately, and it made me feel a bit like a call-girl greeting a client.

His unremembered size and sheer male handsomeness took me by complete surprise. He was taller than I'd remembered, good-looking with dirty-blond hair that needed a cut, nice neatly-trimmed blond moustache and intense, blue-green eyes that made my stomach flip over (... the last time he saw you you were spread out before him, holding your bottom high in the air for him to fuck...). I felt myself blush furiously in overawed confusion. I didn't know whether to throw myself into his arms and beg him to make love to me or run out the bedroom door as fast as I could.

He took a step towards me, leisurely looking me up and down. For some reason I had my hands behind my back, as though I was waiting for his instructions. In a way, I think I was.

He came to a stop just in front of me and I briefly dared to look up at him. As he met my gaze my heart began to pound madly and for the first time I felt he was really looking at me, peering directly into my eyes. I found myself starting to tremble inside, helplessly responding to the man standing before me.

I knew that as he searched my face all Jemima's intimate secrets were being laid bare before him, all the shameful excitement and needs that had constantly surged through me, throughout the long week since he had physically taken possession of me. He could see everything - just how much my world now depended on my expressing my love for him and all he represented to me - and how my adoration was such that I would gladly offer him any pleasure he demanded from me, proud to be the object that helped him gain the satisfaction he deserved.

Once more I was standing at the edge of my life, waiting to recklessly leap over the precipice: standing in my bedroom in front of this man, dressed up as a woman and virtually shouting out that I was ready - no, eager - for him to make love to me...

Part 5 - A New Intimacy

"I didn't think you'd come..." I blurt out, my voice soft in the warm room.

Then he speaks and I have to make an effort to keep my thoughts on what he's saying: "I nearly didn't - but I had to. I couldn't get ...last week... out of my head."

I know I am blushing even harder. I look down at his feet and hear myself whisper, "I haven't stopped thinking about it, either...".

I try again, looking back up at him somehow makes me feel better: "Your name's Steve isn't it..?". It is literally the first thing that comes into my head.

He nods and his eyes sparkle with momentary amusement. He doesn't ask how I'd found out. Jemima is breathless and nervous so she says the second thing that comes into her head:

"Do you like my outfit?...it's specially for you...".

An endless pause before he grins, "...looks good to me" he says, and I feel my head and stomach swim with delight (...he likes you like a girl!...) and relief all at the same time.