tagTranssexuals & CrossdressersA Fishing Trip, But I'm The Bait Ch. 06

A Fishing Trip, But I'm The Bait Ch. 06

bystickygirl©

Ch 6 Coming clean

In the preceding chapters John became Jane, at first just with Paul her stormy lover, then Laura, her sweet sister. Her relationship with Paul was threatened by misunderstandings but they sensibly kissed, fucked and made up. The morning after things are looking bright, but back home Laura is curious. Read on to join Jane's emotional and sexual journey....

It felt strange to be sleeping with another person and especially next to, and around, someone made entirely of heavy limbs and hard muscles. Paul slept soundly, if noisily at times, but I lay propped up and gazing at him, wondering. My head was full of all sorts of contradictory thoughts: of guilt and happiness, of love and fear. My life had just taken a huge turn and although the decision seemed the right one, I was now in uncharted territory. I was going to need Paul to be my rock but I knew I couldn't rely solely on his support and had to be independent.

In the end I got so exhausted by the thoughts chasing round and round that I concluded I would just have to take one day at a time and finally fell asleep.

I awoke to the smell of fresh coffee and a hand stroking my blond hair. I smiled with my eyes still closed, turned on my side and buried my head under the pillow with a groan. Paul lifted the pillow away and placed a soft kiss on my cheek, making me smile again as I reached up to rest my hand on his neck.

"Morning, blue eyes," he said with his face still pressed against mine. "You smell gorgeous."

"And you smell of coffee. What time is it?" I said finally opening an eye.

Paul ran his hand over my back and came to rest on my bottom.

"How are you feeling this morning? Not hung over I hope?" he said.

"Nah - I'm fine, just tired. Is there some coffee or am I dreaming?"

"Yea, sure. I wasn't sure if you were a morning coffee person so I brought tea as well."

I finally roused myself and sat up, pulling the covers up to my chest as Paul dropped a pillow in behind me. He handed me a mug of coffee.

"Thanks honey: you're a life saver," I said, taking the hot cup carefully in both hands.

"I've brought your bag up with your other clothes but take your time: there's no rush. Ans there's a fresh towel on the bed," said Paul as he stroked my bare arm.

"I ought to phone my sister - she'll be fretting I expect," I said with a laugh."I think she gets a bit protective of her new little sister, especially when she has her first proper sleep over. Is it OK if I have a shower after this, then we can decide what to do?"

"I was hoping you'd say that: scrub your back?" said Paul.

"That sounds a good plan," I smiled back. I gave Laura a quick phone call and assured her I'd had a wonderful night. We agreed she would pick me up in an hour or so but as we chatted Paul handed me the big bath towel: he was wearing his own dressing gown but when he stood up his erection was poking through, looking very pleased with itself.

"Ooh. Um - Laura, I think I should go now - Paul has something for me to eat! Bye Sis", I hung up the phone and turned to Paul. "I see someone else is up and about early! Are you going to hit me on the head with that thing of yours or do you have other plans?" I laughed as I modestly wrapped the towel round me and slid off the bed.

"I'm sorry, Jane. I just don't know where to put it," he said.

"Hmmm. I think I can guess where this conversation is going! Well, lead on Mac Duff and damn him that first cries, Hold Enough!"

"Shakespeare?" asked Paul.

"You can shake it all you want, honey, but I've got other ideas," I replied laughing.

He had one of those old fashioned, tiled showers with plenty of room for two. I let Paul step in and after a few gasps of shock as he adjusted the temperature he put out a hand to pull me in but I resisted. He was standing in the steam with the water cascading down his big muscled frame, the water making patterns in the dark hair that covered his chest and legs. I signalled him to turn around and, picking up the soap stood in behind him. I lathered up the soap and began to work the froth over the hard shapes of his shoulders and reached up to his neck that rose from them like the limb of a tree. Paul stood quietly and let me explore his body all naked and wet for me. I worked the soap down his spine then outward down his sides, where the ribs pushed out on the skin.

My hands bubbled with soap as I worked lower to his buttocks that bulged and flexed under my hands as he shifted his weight. I rubbed the skin of his thighs and felt the hardness of the muscles, where the dark hair formed into patterns in the rivulets of water. I could see his genitals through the gap in his thighs but studiously passed by. On my knees I let my hands encircle his lower legs: sharp edged shins and rounded calves but then smiled when I saw his hairy toes.

Paul turned around and his engorged penis pointed at my face. I knew what Paul was aching for but I decided to make him wait and rose with the soap to wash the broad expanse of his chest. The water revealed his scars but I was blind to that and busied myself rubbing foam into his armpits and down each arm. I followed the thick vein that ran from his bicep and emerged just below the surface of knotted forearm. I massaged my thumb into the muscles, woven in ropes under his hair-washed skin, finding knots the history of hard work. I returned to his abdomen letting the foam scurry down his tummy and divide to run around the great hanging tool that jutted out from his pubis. On my knees again I ran my slippery hands around his thighs, resisting the temptation for a moment of touching his prick. Looking up through the clouds of steamy rain I could see Paul had raised his head, his mouth opened silently. I slid a hand under his balls and let it plunge into the channel between his thighs. Paul groaned and I felt a sympathy for what he must be enduring. I took his heavy, twitching tool in my soapy hands and drew them slowly down its length, from base to head. My hands returned, drawing his foreskin back to leave his purple skin thick with lather until they reached the base again, where I let my fingernails run over his big hanging balls. Three times I repeated this long journey: my hands full of his wet flesh as the water splashed into my face from his chest.

Paul's hands interrupted my thoughts by resting on my wet hair and as he knelt down in the spray of water, his prick slipped from my fingers. He lent forward and we kissed: his unshaven face prickled me but his kiss was slow and sensitive.

"I have to have you Jane," he said flatly, our foreheads touching in the steam. I nodded in reply. We shifted so that I could hold the wall and gripped the shower pipe that sparkled with condensation. Now the water caught me in the full stream and beat on my shoulders as Paul ran his fingers over my buttocks, then between them. I pushed my bottom back out of the cascade and felt Paul's finger, slippery with lubricant, quickly enter me. He worked it in and turned it inside, reaching deep. His arm reached around my tummy as I felt his big tool press against my opening. He pushed hard and I had to think fast to relax. It was not without pain and my cry rose in pitch as my sphincter stretched and then yielded to him. I could not tell if my scream was of pain or pleasure, for there was both, but as he began to fill me completely I could only hang my head as my hands hung from the shower fitting. I cried out again as he withdrew, leaving me aching with emptiness. As he stabbed again, his hard fingers gripped my pelvis tightly. On and on he went: now pushing us apart, now pulling us splashing and wet together. Water drummed on my neck and shoulders and ran in a hot torrent over my hair then over my face and open mouth. My legs were now shaking and I knew I would fall if it were not for Paul's support. The heat and the fierceness of his body were making me light-headed but then I heard his voice, urgent and staccato.

"Oh Jane. Oh Oh ... I'm coming. Jane. Aaaargh!"

Paul made a final thrust at me, his prick pulsed and though numbed by the drumming heat of the shower, I could feel his hot semen scalding my insides. With each beat of his tool he cried out and pushed again as though he sought a deeper place within me, a place where he could make me his forever. Nothing could be so perfect as the precious beats of his life in me: his hot come bathed my soul with his love, but bitter sweet: my rapture already tinged in knowing the ecstasy must pass. The twining of souls with flesh is quickly gone and my trembling legs now buckled under me. I would have fallen but for Paul's hands, that gently let me down. His prick gone, I lay in a ball, my face on my knees, happy and grateful for the gift of his seed. Paul's strong limbs enveloped me, like a beast over its fallen prey but I felt small and secure. A thick vein stood up on his forearm, descended web-like to his gnarly fingers, spread like a sprinter's, waiting to leap. His panting chest pressed hot on my back as we lay without words, in steam and soap.

We were motionless for a long while and I was content to be surrounded by his heavy wet body, but I was becoming uncomfortable and began to stir. We knelt up and I turned to face him. He had the biggest grin on his face that shone like sun in snow. We kissed but he was still smiling, so our tongues met but our lips laughed.

"Shall I let you get washed up?" he said.

"Before I drown, I think!" I replied.

Paul stepped back out of the shower and began to dry off whilst he continued watching me through the gap in the curtain. I quickly rinsed the soap from my hair but then turned my back on Paul, so that I could hide my little prick and balls from him: he never really looked at them though. I soaped over my bits but my prick was only half-hard and I felt no particular desire to satisfy myself that way. When I was done I turned off the water and poked my head round the curtain. Paul had dried off and had wrapped the towel round his middle.

"Paul? You know when I came last night? I've never ever come like that, so what was it?"

"Ah, well. It's a gift. Not every person can achieve it because I think a lot of it has a to do with your frame of mind. It is a very kinda passive thing - you know? You have to let it happen to you. But when it does - well, how was it? You know you have that sensitive spot inside you, well that where my nice big prodding prick was poking you. I thought you were magnificent!" said Paul as he lathered up his face for a shave. "And the other amazing thing is that you can go on having them, over and over."

"What, you mean like a woman?" I said stepping from the shower and wrapping a towel round myself.

"I guess so."

I went over to Paul who was trying to keep a portion of the mirror from misting for his shave. I slipped my arms round his waist.

"So I could just keep on coming?" I said, smiling mischievously. "Could we do that now?"

"Nope."

"Oh. Why not?" I said, a little perplexed.

"Because, if my memory serves, you suggested to your sister that she should pick you up in...," Paul said as he examined his watch by the sink. "....in about ten minutes."

"Oh shit, yes! Ok, I'm going to get dressed next door but there's no way I'll be ready in time."

I grabbed another towel and stumbled out into the bedroom, which felt chilly by comparison. I lifted my bag onto the bed and searched through the contents. My face was too hot for make up so after applying a scented body-lotion, I pulled on a pair of pretty cotton knickers ( pink with red piping - not sexy, but practical as they were stretchy enough to stop everything falling out! ). Laura had loaned me a summer dress with which I could just wear flip-flops and I was pulling this over my head as Paul had emerged from the bathroom. He pulled on a t-shirt and jeans ( no underpants ) and had just started to go downstairs when the doorbell rang. Why did Laura have to be so prompt?! I wrapped a towel round my wet hair and followed Paul downstairs.

After some hasty introductions, Paul suggested us girls finish up in the bedroom, whilst he busied himself in the kitchen.

Laura followed me upstairs giggling. I closed the door behind us and turned to her: Laura hid her smile behind her hand and we gave each other a huge hug before sitting on the edge of the bed.

We spoke in hushed conspiratorial tones with lots of giggling as she pressed me with questions but I assured her I would answer everything once we got home.

"Do you like him?" I asked.

"Well he's a bit of a hunk isn't he?" Laura replied. "Nice eyes. I can see the attraction. Here let me help you with your make up."

"I can do it," I insisted.

"Yes - but you'll take ages honey. Let me," Laura said and she was probably right. We didn't want to keep Paul waiting too long and Laura and I were keen to get home and have a proper catch up.

"Well we can forget anything fancy with foundation," Laura continued as she busied herself with eyeliner."Your skin is on fire. I hope I didn't disturb anything?"

I had to remain completely still as Laura ran the kohl over my lower lids but I started to giggle anyway. Laura paused as my giggles grew into a gurgle of laughter and smiled back at me, shaking her head a little.

"I'll take that as a 'Yes' then?"

"Sorry, sorry. Ok, I'm calm now," I replied biting my lips together and fanning my face with my hands.

"Here: let me do your lips, though God knows where they've been in the last few hours!"

"Laura!" I exclaimed and it was her turn to laugh.

"OK. That should do you. Is your hair soaking wet? Let's see." Laura had me stand up then bend forward as she towelled my hair between her hands. "And up! Oh my God - look at you. You look scrummy even with your hair a mess. I hate you!"

"Am I done?" I asked and Laura shrugged so I bundled my belongings into my bag. I waited till Laura had turned to the door then pulled out the lacey knickers I worn last night and dropped them under Paul's pillow. Then I noticed he'd left one of his t-shirts hanging over the back of a chair. I gave it a quick sniff and stuffed that into my bag instead. Fair swap I thought.

"Ladies!" Paul announced dramatically from the foot of the stairs as we descended. "Can I tempt you to anything before you hasten away? Jane - you definitely need liquids and Laura - you look like an Earl Grey girl to me."

Laura and I exchanged looks. It would have been very rude to leave but I let Laura decide.

"That sounds lovely," she said. "But then we really must -"

"I know, I know," said Paul interrupting. "We all have busy lives and I'm sure you two have much to talk about. Please be discreet though, Jane: I have a reputation to uphold! Now, here. Jane: orange juice, freshly squeezed from the carton and Laura - was I right with Earl Grey?"

"Oo! Builder's tea is fine for me, Paul," said Laura as she took a seat at the table.

Paul was thoroughly enjoying the company and made a big show of flying the drinks through the air like an enthusiastic waiter. He returned with a plate of toast: a slice already held in his teeth.

"Help yourself to toast. I'm ravenous!" he said, munching.

"Oh - have you worked up an appetite?" said Laura into her tea. I kicked Laura under the table then looked primly at Paul, who had adopted an air of innocence.

"I'm always ravenous," Paul replied to me with a wink.

"I'll say," I replied.

"Toast?" Paul asked again, quickly side-tracking the conversation. We managed to finish breakfast without further innuendo and Paul explained between mouthfuls of toast everything he'd done with the house. His taste was traditional, without being twee and apart from the expected fishing trophies he had a huge vinyl collection with everything from Jazz to R&B. Not exactly my style but I appreciated his enthusiasm. Paul was in very good spirits and when we got up to leave he opened the door to Laura. He cocked his head to look at her pert looking bottom as she stepped through the door.

"Paul!" I exclaimed. He laughed as he turned to me.

"Cute bums are obviously a family trait," he said pulling me close to him and giving me a quick kiss on the lips. His hands rested on my bottom and briefly explored the line of my knickers. I gave a little moan of frustration."Go on with you, you little minx."

He turned me by my shoulders and gave me a slap on my bottom as he got me underway.

"Have a great day, and phone me when you can," he said at the doorway.

I turned and placed a hand on his chest and we exchanged kisses again.

"Thanks Paul, for everything," I replied and reluctantly walked up the path to where Laura was waiting by the car.

"So?" said Laura as we pulled away. I looked over my shoulder to see Paul closing the door before returning to Laura.

"...and?" I laughed back.

"Did you get laid? Is he a stud? Did ya squeal for more?" she said in a mid-West accent.

"Yes. Yes and errr, some." I replied primly.

"He seems really nice, but you can't tell from meeting someone for five minutes. You didn't get any negative stuff did you?"

"No - and I was looking for it. I suppose that issue with his past made him a bit stroppy but we seem to be past that now. Trouble is though Sis, I'm completely besotted. I know I shouldn't be what with university coming up. You could say I chose the worst possible time to get attached."

"Hmm. That's a toughie but you'll be surprised how a term away from home can change your perspective. Have you thought about how you're going to tackle that?" said Laura.

"You sound like mother. Ooohh! I just want to run away and hide," I replied.

We drove on in silence for a few minutes till Laura finally spoke.

"Well that's the next thing you have to tackle: we have to tell Mum."

I nodded again and felt tears welling up. I looked away and quickly brushed them off my cheek, but I was bumping back down to earth quite hard after living the dream with Paul. Laura put her hand on my leg as reassurance and said."Don't worry pumpkin. We'll sort it out. You owe this to yourself so don't go wobbly on me now."

I took some deep breaths to chase away the crowding emotions and stifle my tears. We were at the house and Laura stopped the car on the drive. We sat in silence again for a few seconds, broken only by one of my big sniffs.

"Jane. In a couple of months you'll look back at this time and wonder what all the fuss was about. I know you're strong: strong enough to see this through, if that's what you want. I can see the change in you and I know Mum will. Come on, let's go in a have a cup of tea."

Laura gave me a dig in the ribs and forced a smile from me. I glance up into the vanity mirror.

"Oh God. My face looks a complete mess." I muttered.

"There you go," said Laura brightly. "You're such a girl!" She leaned across and gave me a kiss on the cheek. Only Laura could make me laugh in such circumstances and I was smiling as we got out and made our way inside.

Armed with a pot of tea we sat at the kitchen table, thumbing through fashion magazines and chatting about clothes and styles. I listened carefully to everything Laura said because although I didn't agree with all your tastes, she was the only girl Jane knew. From a masterclass in clothes we moved on to Hello and gossiped about celebrities and TV until the tea had gone cold and we had demolished a packet of biscuits between us. I yawned and slumped forward over the table.

"I'm tired," I announced, resting my head on my hands. "I think I might go and catch forty winks. What are your plans?"

"Well let's see. I have a choice between a summary of basic predicate and equivalent logic or writing a paper on act and rule utilitarianism. Which do you think?"

"I think the moral philosophy dictates that I leave you to decide. How's that?" I replied.

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