Getting Into Dove

I glanced at my phone. 6:02PM. Well, I can't put it off any longer, I thought. I stripped, hopped into the shower, and immediately started shaving. I always shaved in the shower, but usually it was just a small section of my body so that it wouldn't take forever. Today, however, I was shaving everything: legs, ass, pubes, chest, armpits, even my arms, which were usually such a pain that I didn't even bother.

But today - really, tonight - was special. I had a lot riding on it. I was going on a date with a man nearly double my age, and he didn't even know it. Things would probably startle him at first, but hopefully he would understand how everyone would benefit in the end.

That man was Dr. Jonathan Buford, graduate admissions counselor at Dove College. Dove was tiny, so tiny that Dr. Buford was the entire graduate admissions department, and therefore the only thing standing in between me and my goal of getting in. He'd seemed like a nice enough guy, too, when I had met with him, but his own incompetence was the reason I currently was not offered admission.

"We take federal funds, which means we have to meet Title IX regulations," he'd said, "and, well, uh, in the past few years, well, we've admitted too many men, so now our sex ratio is off. Basically, we can only admit more women. And you're a man."

I was not happy, since the debacle was entirely his fault (who else had let all those damn men in?) and he was unwilling to let it slide for just one person.

"Look," he'd said, "it's a shame you're not a woman, because you're highly qualified. But the administration is breathing down my neck here. There's nothing I can do."

That should have been the final nail in the coffin, but, instead, it had gotten the gears turning in my head. I'd surprised him by offering to take him to dinner at a local steakhouse, my treat, where we could talk it over further.

Now I was getting ready for that. I finished shaving and stepped out of the shower, dried off, and looked at my smooth body in the mirror, rubbing my hands up and down my legs and torso.

When I was done being vain (at least for the moment), I walked into the bedroom of my apartment. My outfit for the night was already laid out before me: a sleeveless black minidress, a red thong, and red open-toe heels.

What Dr. Buford didn't know, but was about to find out, was that I was more than happy to pretend to be a woman to get into Dove. I loved looking pretty, and this would be the excuse to do it all the time.

I stepped into the thong and wiggled into the dress, my cock growing harder as I did so. Then I put my hand on my chin and frowned: should I wear pantyhose? I opened the drawer and shook my head. I didn't crossdress often, so all I had was two pairs of thigh-highs, which were a little too slutty when combined with such a short dress, and some thick black tights that would be too warm for the summer. Oh, well. Guess I'll let my legs breathe.

I went back into the bathroom and immediately started on my nails, painting my toes and fingers a dark red. There was something so hot about seeing my own toes painted red.

Waving my hands around to get them to dry, I got out all my makeup. Recently, I had been trying to get more subtle with how I did my makeup when dressed, but tonight I was only going for stereotypical sex appeal. The women in the restaurant might not be impressed, but the men - and Dr. Buford - certainly would be.

So the eye shadow went on a little thick and the lipstick was the same dark red shade as my nails, and when it was all done at 6:47, the thin young man in the mirror had been replaced by a hot young woman. I admired myself for a second before remembering I was missing one thing, ran to put on my heels, and click-clacked back before the mirror.

So hot, in fact, that there was a problem. Between rubbing my smooth legs, admiring my round butt trying desperately to break out of the tight, short dress, pursing my red lips, and the sensation of the thong working its way into my ass, I was as hard as I could be. The thong was only barely containing my cock, and I could see it tenting the front of the dress a little.

6:50, and the date was at 7:00. The steakhouse was only five minutes away, so I had a little time, but not much, and I knew that the rubbing of getting in and out of the car was not going to help the boner go away. Guess it's time to take matters into my own hands - literally.

I pushed the thong to the side, pulled my dick out from underneath the dress, and started stroking it. I made eye contact with myself in the mirror, and watching the hot woman jerk herself off was incredible. My other hand squeezed my ass and I moaned like a whore. It didn't take long before I knew I was about to cum, so I teetered over to the toilet, opened the lid, and with one final, girlish moan, dropped my kids off at the pool. A little bit of jizz got on my fingers, and I licked it off before washing my hands.

Suddenly my cock was much more willing to be tucked away, so I grabbed my clutch, threw my phone and wallet in, and took off for the car. Driving in heels was not something I had done before and was very awkward, but I managed to make it to the steakhouse in one piece.

I walked in and up to the counter. "Hi, I have a reservation for 7PM? Erlanger?" I said, my voice higher pitched than normal.

The waiter smiled. "Ah, Miss Erlanger. Your friend has already arrived. I'll take you to him."

The waiter - whose butt looked incredible in his tight dress pants - walked me to the back, where Dr. Buford was sitting at a table by himself. I sat down across from him, and he looked at me, baffled.

"Uh, miss, I think you have the wrong table," he said.

I smiled at him. "No, Dr. Buford," I told him, "I'm in the right place."

He could not have looked more puzzled. "Uh, uh... I'm supposed to meet someone."

I couldn't help but grin. Here came the knockout punch. "You have." I took my wallet out of my clutch, removed the ID, and handed it to him.

His jaw dropped as he read the name on the ID. He looked back and forth from the photo on it to me four or five times before he could muster any more words. "Im-impossible. How..."

I leaned forward towards him. "No, not impossible," I said in my normal, manly voice, before going back to the higher pitched one, "in fact, very possible. So possible, in fact, that it's the kind of thing I could do every day if need be..."

Dr. Buford blinked a few times before leaning back in his seat. "Yes, yes... every day..." He smiled. "I must admit, I did not expect such a... convincing argument."

We hashed it over for the next few minutes, but it didn't take much at all to convince Dr. Buford that I could easily pass for a woman, and all he had to do was click a few different buttons on my application. No one would be the wiser. I'd get into Dove, his bosses wouldn't be mad at him, and everyone would go home happy.

As we ate, however, I began to consider just how happy everyone would be going home. While handsome enough for a man in his mid-forties, Dr. Buford wasn't the hottest man I'd ever seen, but, hey, what the hell. Live a little.

I started to flirt with him, playing with my hair and laughing at all his old guy jokes. By the time the meal was over, he was completely in love with me. So much so, in fact, that he volunteered to pay for the meal, something I'd been hoping would happen despite the fact that I had said I would.

"Oh, really?" I asked him when he pulled his credit card out. "That's so sweet of you..." And to thank him, I leaned across the table and kissed him on the lips.

He clearly hadn't been expecting it, and stuttered, "uh, y-you're welcome," but it was just as clear that he had enjoyed it.

After we'd paid, Dr. Buford had stood up and said, "I'm going to use the bathroom." I waited for a couple minutes after he'd left then stood up and followed him into the men's room.

He was alone inside, washing his hands. I walked in so I was beside him, looking at him in the mirror.

"Oops," I said quietly. "Wrong one." I smiled at him. "Force of habit." Then I turned my head to look directly at him, and we made eye contact. "I guess it's a good thing we're in here alone..."

Suddenly, his arms shot out and grabbed my waist, and he pulled me in for a forceful kiss. It was a few seconds before he broke off and grinned at me.

"Bet you weren't expecting that, huh?" he breathed.

I didn't have time to respond before he kissed me again. I wrapped my arms around his neck and closed my eyes, giving into him completely. I felt both of his hands leave my hips and reappear on my ass, squeezing for all they were worth before pulling my dress up and spanking me. I moaned into his mouth.

He broke off and grinned again, much more maliciously than the first time. "You like being spanked, don't you."

I squeaked out a quiet "yes" and was rewarded with another spank, and then another, each one being answered with a moan. Dr. Buford then spun me to the side and shoved me into the sink in front of the mirror, bending me over.

He hiked my dress up even further and spanked me again, much harder, this one drawing a full "oh my god" out of me. My cock was threatening to rip out of my precum-soaked thong.

Suddenly, he reached beside me and started pumping lotion out of a bottle on the sink. Good thing I picked an upscale place, I thought, as Dr. Buford spread the lotion on his dick, pulled my thong out of my crack, and plunged his cock into my waiting hole.

"Oooohhhhhhhh" I moaned as he penetrated me. I had thought maybe I would go back to his place and make out or something, but I had never expected anything like this. Not that I was complaining.

As he spanked me again and started to pump in and out of me, my knees pressed together. I was completely his and wanted nothing more than to be fucked by him. I didn't even need to do this to get into Dove, but Dove was the last thing on my horny mind by then.

He grabbed my hair and pulled it back, and I made eye contact with myself in the mirror. Seeing my slut ass get used like that was so hot I could barely stand it, and just when I thought things couldn't get more intense, Dr. Buford shifted just slightly and started nailing my prostate with his cock. I nearly screamed with pleasure.

He spanked me once. My legs were shaking. He spanked me twice. I grabbed onto the sink head for dear life. He spanked me a third time, and I couldn't hold on any longer.

"I'm cuummmming" I moaned as I did just that in my thong, flooding it and letting the excess cum dribble down my legs. I had never cum like this before and I felt like I was going to pass out from the intensity of the stimulation. I felt my ass flexing around Dr. Buford's cock and that was enough to send him over the edge as well, and suddenly I felt ropes of his cum flowing into me.

We stood there panting for a moment before he eventually pulled out and began putting his pants back on. I straightened up, readjusted my thong, and pulled my dress back down. My makeup was a mess, but I didn't have any in my clutch to touch-up with. Rookie mistake.

I turned around and faced Dr. Buford, who was just finishing tucking in his shirt.

"Orientation starts August 18^th," he told me. "Wear something cute. Welcome to Dove."

"Yes, sir," I replied. With that, Dr. Buford walked out of the bathroom. I took a few more breaths to compose myself then followed him. I went straight to my car, hopped in, and immediately went home.

My ass was so sore that walking up the stairs was a struggle, but I managed to make it to my apartment. I was so exhausted that I didn't even take off my heels. I just staggered to the bed, flopped onto it, and fell asleep.