Dancing on My Cocks Tunes 01

It is such an irony (at least for me), I now do not wish to have the one thing that decided my fate. It is said "Its all in the mind". But beware a few things have the strength of overpowering it. I know of two such potent things, the first one being alcohol which my mind can handle (or maybe my mind doesn't know coz I am all drunk and dozing). The second one is my black, hairy 3 incher when sleeping and six incher when rock hard, piece of meat hanging between my legs. As I look back to my sexual journey so far, I am amazed at things that my cock has made me do and go through.

I had never imagined that this little thing standing tall between my legs which I started massaging and stroking as a teenager so dearly would later not only stroke but screw my brains to such an extent that today I am typing this story in my nail painted fingers and stroking my thing in between lines beneath my frilly skirt and panties and feeling absolutely amazing about it.

I have loved women, women of all kind, of all sizes. Women's beauty has never skipped my eyes, the more I see them, the more desperate I get. (Oh my freaky mind, juicy jiggling boobs is all I can visualize as I am typing this). My cock has taught me to worship women's beauty all my life. And what better a proof of devotion to them that I myself wish to be a woman now. Yes, I want to be a woman, in fact with the effort, time and love I am putting to look like a woman please do not think of me anything less than a woman.

Let me give a quick recap of my life before I start spilling my filthy beans. I, Vinod am a thin 5.10" tall, brown complexioned and very thin, an insult of a man weighing nothing more than 55 kgs. (I attribute my bony structure to my excessive masturbation). And so you would know now that girls don't even turn to spit at me. Still I haven't been a hopeless guy overall. I had fucked three chicks and dated a couple more until I was 25.

At 28, I married my beautiful wife Maya. It was my fortune to marry a bombshell like Maya thanks to the Indian custom of arranged marriage which is still an in thing in this part of the world and my professional success which included a couple of years spent in U.S.

Maya, a 25 year old milky fair girl, 5.5" tall, brown curly long hair ending just above her temples was a voluptuous female with sharp curves at killing places. She sized 36C 26 38, none of her bras and tight blouses were strong enough to keep her boobs from jiggling whenever she made the slightest of movement. Her swaying hips and milky thighs were no less appealing. But the most beautiful part of her were her marble like big cat eyes. I could never really tell if she is happy or angry from her eyes. Yet they were delusional and attractive.

I and Maya met only a couple of times before being tied into rituals of marriage. Maya wasn't a difficult choice to make really. She was hot as hell and her killing figure was like a strong magnet pushing me to her. Maya was a small town girl and I had expected her to be reserved of sorts. But it amazed me to see that she wasn't. In fact she would make a lot of modern girls in metropolitan cities jealous with the way she carried herself. She had distinctive taste in western as well as traditional clothes. Her clothes were always well fitted; color coordinated and though she didn't wear too revealing attires, her full sized boobs and curvy ass were too big for any of her dresses to hide.

Only two things were enough to convince me to marry her at our very first date. First was the site of her round juicy melons beneath her cotton blue t-shirt and black bra. My mind was weighing her sizes and often wondering about how her bra hooks managed to cage her boobs in its confines. Second thing was her teasing ass crying to break free from her tightly hugged black jeans as she walked in a rhythmic oscillating motion shifting weight to and fro.

I wasn't too sure why Maya had chosen to marry me though. I wasn't a charmer like she was and my soft mannerisms (submissive behavior -- I know now) and rather repulsive appearance was a complete mismatch compared to her extrovert persona. Per my guess, she must have been intrigued by my rather settled lifestyle and secure bank balance. I had a self sufficient house which was waiting only for her to rule in future and she being an educated girl was more than happy that I was ok to let her pursue her goals post marriage.

Two months post our wedding; we both are staying alone in a two bedroom hall kitchen apartment in suburbs of Mumbai. Life was good with her and so was sex. I was experienced in this department as she was a virgin or so she said. (uh can't make out from her eyes whether she is being honest of bluffing). Every night I would jump on her like a horny dog, kiss her, lick her all over and start pounding her cunt with my five incher, applying all my stamina and vigor. I used to enjoy the fact that she never used to hesitate getting naked like most other girls I have known.

In fact, in early days of our wedding I found her waiting crazily for me to get on to bed with her. What more would a sex pervert like me hope for? I was a drooling dog on bed in front of her. I was not able to hold cum for more than 15 minutes no matter how hard I tried. The fact that Maya never showed disappointment on bed was relieving (Sadly it wasn't going to be for long). After our sexual acts, Maya would go the bathroom and clean herself up being a hygiene freak. Overall my life was wonderful until I started wanting something else.

Maya got a job in a multinational company as an HR executive. She was dedicated, hardworking and did a lot of extra hours. She soon moved up the ladder and was promoted as a Manager. This amounted her putting in more hours in office than before. Plus she worked for six days in a week unlike my five day a week job. With both of us working, our nights started getting boring.

It was then when I resorted to was soothed me the most. "Dressing like a girl".

I still remember my first time when I slid into those sexy tight fitting feminine girly clothes. I was only 21 then and the girly clothes I wore were of my girlfriends and trying on her sexy silks happened just after I lost my virginity fucking with her in her hostel room. It was a romantic evening of Valentine's Day and we both had spent a romantic evening enjoying together riding on my motor bike. Friction was plenty as my bike's brakes (you know what I am talking about) were working fine and her vulnerable advances were unmistakable. It was not too long before we couldn't hold our lustful selves. She took me to her place where she let me experience my first sexual experience of my life.

Next morning when I woke up, I found myself lying naked on the bed and alone in her room. As I tried to get up moving my weight to my left, my hands hit a notepad lying right there. I picked it up and started reading.

The small note was written in a red sketch pen with small hearts drawn everywhere. The note said "Hi Darling, I am sorry I did not wake you up. I was late and had to get going for work. Treat my home like you treated me last night. Lock the door when you leave. I have keys with me. Love you baby".

I was too lazy to push myself out of the bed as I was still in heavens feeling her aroma in her room. My cock was still rock hard and starring straight at the ceiling fan as the result of lustful thoughts that had engulfed me all night and were still teasing me to the core. I wanted more. Like a dog I started sniffing all over her place. Firstly, I found her unwashed bra and panty which I smelled and inhaled to let their sexual fragrances spin my head.

How would that have been enough? I was still naked and her sexy body was all I was thinking of. Still lying on her bed and sniffing her heaven guardians, my eyes laid on her silk red dress she was wearing while we started rocking each other. It was a traditional Indian Punjabi dress that included a red colored hip long top and white skin fit elastic leggings. I picked the top, sniffed it and rolled it all over my bare chest. It was cold and moist and so soft.

I don't recollect why, but I slowly stood up, watched myself in the mirror for a while, and then rubbed the dress on my cock. Oh the touch of silk feels so nice. It was smooth and slippery and it was making my heart beat faster. As I continued feeling this beautiful dress on body, a crazy though of wearing it struck my mind. I laughed at myself at first watching myself in the mirror. Then contemplating my thoughts, I decided to try wearing it just for fun.

I can still remember the glow in my eyes when these thoughts were flooding me. I raised my hands and let this slippery piece slide over my body. For one, I did not look girly. My unshaved face wasn't helping me here. But I was too aroused to ignore my face anyway. I looked down. No boobs I had. But my figure was looking feminine. I was thin enough to look like a girl.

But this wasn't enough for me. I decided to improvise. I removed the dress, walked to the bathroom and started looking for a razor as I wanted to look clean and smooth. I found a razor in her top shelf beneath her nappies. How could I ignore what my girlfriend would be using her razor for? A couple of curly thick hair strand still stuck between razor blades. The view of her shiny crotch between her milky legs was flooding my imagination as I got to my job of shaving every trace of hair I could see on face.

After shaving, I walked back to the mirror and picked up the bra lying on her bed. Girls are complicated and so is everything they wear. I realized it as soon as I let my hands between bra slips, let the bra rise and rest on my chest and tried to hook it behind my back. It took me a good 10 minutes to finally get it right.

All this while I was thoroughly watching myself struggling like a helpless bitch in the mirror. With every moment passing by, I loved the helpless feminine feel that I was experiencing trying to wear the bra. My boobs were flat; I had to make them protrude out. I ran to the door where I had left my shoes and socks at the rack. Pulling out my socks, I quickly bundled them up and stuffed them in my bra cups.

Oh my God, wasn't I looking nice. But this cock which was had bowed down a while back being ignored for a while was now again interfering my feminine advances. I decided to hide it. I searched for the panties I was playing sometime back. It was right where I had left it on the bed. I picked it up and raised one leg after another letting this pink beauty rise through my legs. It is not possible for me to explain how heavenly I felt when the panty was touching every part of my inner thighs as it progressed towards my crotch.

Panties are made for girls, the creatures who don't have anything shamelessly hanging down their crotch. Mine was a sorry case. I was trying helplessly to adjust my cock in the confines of this very little piece of silky panty. And with every attempt, my cock was getting harder and bigger.

I then took all the length of my cock and pulled it down and back sticking my testicles until it was millimeters away from my asshole and pulled the panty as high as I could.

With bra and panty worn, I picked up the leggings of my sweet girlfriends dress. The leggings embraced my legs and butt cheeks fully as its waistband rested nicely below my belly button. In fact I could feel my butt cheeks being lifted and parted a bit from their place. (No doubt these girls look so hot). I slowly started walking around the bed to find the top where I had last removed it,

I noticed how the super tight leggings were embracing my legs and crotch. I felt as if these leggings were designed to constrict girls from taking longs steps. One long stride while walking and nakedness would be inevitable in them. I bent down carefully and picked-up the top and came back to the mirror to check myself out again as I would wear it.

Though getting impatient to wear the silky top, I held myself for a while to admire my thin figure in the mirror. I could see a petite slut standing with legs crossed and hands on her hips in a white bra and white leggings showing signs of womanhood.

With a little effort, I now looked nowhere close to a man and only inches away from looking completely feminine. Then I raised the top over my head and let it slip down my neck as I penetrated my hands in its small confined sleeves. With some effort, I managed to pull down the dress to let it rest on my body. I might be too thin for a man but I was still an equal match for a fit girl.

My girlfriend must have been at least 2 inches smaller sized. Off course the view of me struggling to pull the top down my body was an awesome view for myself. I could see a complete woman in the mirror now. I was mesmerized and completely moved by what the reflection in the mirror was showing me. I kept standing in different girly ways, posing like a girl and checking myself with every moment passing by.

As I continued inspecting myself standing in girly ways getting legs closer and transferring my weight seductively to each hip in slow feminine manners. I was amazed by the way I looked. Oh my cock was hard and I could feel my nipples erect as my eyes were transfixed on the lady in mirror. How could I have stopped myself from masturbating?

I sat over the bed, resting my back to its head as I raised my top to my waist and lifted my butts to pull off the leggings and panties down to my knees and started jerking my cock ferociously. I cummed twice in just about 10-15 minutes until my filthy mind was satiated.

My girlfriend never found that dress and panty in her room again. I had stolen it. I had found a new hobby, which was to turn into a woman whenever I got my privacy. I was either realizing my true self or turning into a filthy sex starving animal. Whatever the case, my mind was filled with nothing but women.

Every day I dreamt about them, I didn't knew what was dearer to me, fucking them or being like them. Being staying with my parents then, I didn't get a lot of alone time to nurture this beautiful hobby of mine. Still I would get an opportunity every 2-3 months. And my filthy mind would chalk out how I would want to look the next time when I would dress up again.

I had gathered a lot of girly stuff since my first cross-dressing experience. I had my own pair of bras and panties, stockings, pantyhose, some beautiful dresses, my own makeup kit and accessories including some sexy dangling earrings (I did get my earlobes pierced especially to wear them). Plus one thing that I brought that was dearest to me was a hair wig.

The wig never looked like one when I wore it. I could feel this long black thick hair resting on my shoulders as if they were actually a part of me. With everything required to look like a woman, my lonely sessions were much more fulfilling and I loved the woman I saw in the mirror even more now. With some experience and a lot of observation from starring girls, my makeup and dressing skills were nicely tuned. I would see a young slut showing herself off in the mirror now. And there was no part that would make me look like a man.

However when my wedding day approached, I convinced myself (although not completely) that I need to divulge from this hobby of mine as it may affect my married life. I had packed all my girly stuff in a bag and hid it at home. (I could not muster the courage to throw them away).

Today I had returned back to my passion of being a slut after long. I had a full day of seclusion on every Saturday when I had an off and Maya would be at her office working. And things were turning up on a completely different level for me. My thoughts were more articulated, getting to have a wife like Maya was helping me watch and learn the little details of becoming a woman.

I cannot deny the fact that I found watching her getting dressed more pleasurable than even fucking her. It was because I was imagining myself dressing up in her place. My cock did have a mind of its own and it was making me jealous of my wife too. Jealous coz I was realizing what I am missing for not being born as a woman. I can't agree more.

I was learning every bit from Maya. The way she would sit in her towel in front of the mirror table, dry her hair, then comb them, put clips at places, tie them, then picking up her moisturizer, applying it on her hands and legs and some around her neck and then getting up lifting her heavy ass (oh I love the way girls get up from their seats.. legs close, holding their breath and then raising their butts at the end. If you observe closely, you would feel as if their stamina emerges from their pussies).

She would then scan her upper cabinet for her undergarments, grab them bunching them in her hands. At most times, her panty would be bunched deep in her palms and her bra would be further bunched between both hands. (Aren't women cruel? They know what sparks your fantasies and they try every bit to cover up). Maya would then wait patiently between our chats before she gives me a naughty stare hinting me to watch elsewhere. And I would return my eyes on her when I her towel rested on the couch to find her standing in her bra and panty.

Picking her stockings, she would again sit across the mirror, lifting her feet one after the other and resting on the table in front of her. I was secretly observing the way she would slide stockings up her thighs just close to where her crotch ended. Then she would start working on her makeup. She didn't need any makeup to look beautiful.

The only things she applied daily were her eye liner and lip stick. My eyes would keenly study her creating those thick black lines around her eyes. Yes her marble-like eyes looked killing. But I was keener on examining her hand movements when she was doing her eyes. My learning would continue further as she would pout her thin petal lips and color them pink. Oh I was so grateful. My Goddess was unknowingly teaching me so much.

Maya being a working lady always preferred decent knee length pencil skirts and hipster pants matched with black, white, grey and formal colored tops or shirts at office. Her clothes were always figure hugging that never failed highlighting her assets. I was taking in everything my eyes were watching. My education would continue as she would wear her clothes, choose matching earrings and penetrate them delicately through her earlobes and finally stand a couple inches taller in her heels ready to walk out the door.

Learning all aspects of becoming a woman every day and waiting until Saturday to try it all was like my cock making my mind masturbate itself for six long days and finally spurting out its entire kinky cum on the seventh day. From clothes I would wear on Saturday, to makeup, hairstyle, accessories, sandals, lingerie and pantyhose, my cock was fucking my mind ferociously deep to plan everything. On Saturday mornings, I would wait impatiently for the moment my wife would get ready and kiss me good bye before the slut in me could come out.

I was in my own world once I was alone. My heart would beat faster, my breathing felt like a moaning slut getting fucked and I would feel my body getting soft and tender. And every nerve of me would turn feminine except my bastard cock that would grow hard and show its ugly self making my efforts look futile as if taunting and laughing at me.

Still I was only thankful to my cock. It had now transferred me into a WOMAN.