How I Became a Sissy Ch. 01

This is the beginning of the story about how I became a sissy. No dressing up in this chapter yet, but definitely in the ones that follow :-). A warning up front, I love to tease and to be teased. So don't expect a quick fuck. There will be, oooh yes. But it might take a little time. But if you're willing to be edged, please read on ;-`)

Going camping after the divorce.

How did it ever come to this? How did guy Nick slowly turn into sissy Nikki? It didn't happen all of a sudden, of course, but still pretty quickly. It has probably always been inside me...

The divorce is now six months ago. It still hurts, but I have decided that it is important for the kids that life goes on. That is why I booked for two weeks at a campsite. No trip far away, the alimony that my ex wife pays is not generous enough for that, but with the beautiful summers we have had this should also be fine. A bit away from the the campsite is a natural pool in a forest, surrounded by more expensive log cabins, and because it's very hot that is where we spend most of our time. Fortunately the kids quickly find contact with their peers and have a great time, which gives me the time to rest and read a book. And to think, which is not good if you have not yet gotten over the divorce.

Fortunately, there is a lot to see around the pool. Mothers who are there with their families. Some still tight, others with a few more pounds in their bathing suits. Both nice to see, although after my slim (according to her) and skinny (according to me) ex I have begun to appreciate some fuller women more. Firm tits that bounce in a bikini or bathing suit are nice to look at. Tanned bodies with such an exciting tan-line when bikini panties move up a bit. Panties that are sometimes just big enough to get into the butt crack, with those lovely tight asses. Or panties that are so tight that you can read their lips. Watching is allowed, and nothing will happen because what should these women need a divorced middle-aged man for. And the milfs, there are some among them who are also single parents. But I'm shy by nature, and circumstances haven't made it any better. So I just watch, with the prospect of a quick jerk in my sleeping bag tonight.

"Are you okay, with the kids?" I suddenly hear. In front of me is a man of about my age in tight swimming trunks. It happens unconsciously, but in the flash it takes to look up from my chair, I see a huge bulge in those pants. Wow. He introduces himself as Carl, living in the area. His two children are the same age as mine, and as it happens they found each other on the deck at the natural pool. Apparently they are having fun together, which makes relaxing a lot easier for the parents. Carl asks if he can join me. We have the usual conversation you have with strangers. The weather (warm by our standards), the facilities on the campsite (reasonable, but there appears to be a nice restaurant close by), the natural pool on the other side of the huge camping ground (fortunately quite quiet, most camping guests choose the swimming pool). And of course the question that always comes up if I'm here alone. It keeps getting a little better with time, but it is still annoying to tell.

"Yes, I'm here alone. My ex and I have been divorced for six months, but before that it was not going well for a long time. We were in a serious relationship since we were teenagers, married young and later grew apart." Assuming that Carl (no wedding ring) is also a divorced father, I end with, "But I'm probably better off without her, you know what I mean."

I shouldn't have tried to be tough, because I can see his face darken. With a sad look Carl tells that he's a widower. Was married for a long time, also to his childhood sweetheart, but then she became seriously ill. It soon turned out that nothing could be done about it and she passed away a year ago. Oh shit, I feel like shit. I apologize, and then again. Luckily he doesn't get angry about it as I couldn't have known, and we decide to have a beer together. He walks back to their cabin for a moment, takes a chair and a cooler and sits down with me. Fortunately, the painful moment has passed and soon we are talking about anything and everything. It's nice to just click with someone again and talk about it.

When Carl invites us to come and barbecue with them, I say yes after a short check with the kids. The BBQ is very relaxed, there are still some beers by, but by eleven the children indicate they want to go to bed. Carl has just put a bottle of good whiskey on the table, but that is no problem. "Then you just stay dad. It is only 5 minutes by bike to the campsite, we'll see you at breakfast."

After-BBQ drinks.

Carl's also go to sleep in their own room in the cabin and we adults are alone. In the dark, with only the light of the afterglow of the bbq, and with a good glass, the conversation naturally becomes more personal. The drinks help, but there is also something about Carl's attitude and words that give me a familiar feeling, the idea that I can just say things. That is maybe why I'm soon talking about my marriage and divorce for the first time.

I explain you how Cindy and I knew each other from our religious town. The kind of small town where everyone knows each other and looks after each other, and where premarital sex is a tricky thing even today. We got married when I was nineteen and then moved in together. Carl asks if we really haven't had sex before. He can't see me blush in the dark, so I'm telling for the first time that of course I wanted to. Cindy too, I think, but she really wanted to get married as a virgin, as it should be. Some things still happened during long walks in the woods where we would find a quiet place to sit, or later on in my parents car. I would get the chance to put my hand in her panties and finger her. And if I was lucky then after that Cindy would put her hand in my shorts and then quickly jerk me off until I came. That would always mean walking or driving home in sticky shorts. We were in love, at least I thought so and the first years of our marriage were a joy.

Shortly after our second child was born Cindy got the opportunity to get a promotion at the marketing agency where she worked. A considerably more salary, more responsibility for larger customers and occasionally also traveling for work. Well, I really liked my job, but it paid a lot less, so we decided that I would take care of the children for a while and she would have the opportunity to further expand her career. She also really blossomed. My modest, slightly prudish Cindy was slowly turning into a confident businesswoman. And I have to say I found that very attractive. She started wearing tighter dresses with her slender legs in shiny tights, pumps with increasingly high heels, expensive silk blouses and even a pearl necklace. She started to look more and more feminine by the day. But where I became more and more aroused by her, the lust seemed to disappear for her. Sex went from once a week to once every 2 weeks. Then to once a month. And if it happened at all, we didn't even fuck. First I had to lick her pussy for an hour (with pleasure, by the way, especially after she started shaving there) and then after that I got a quick handjob.

After a while I began to suspect that there was someone else when she had to work overtime more and more often or went on a business trip with her best lingerie in her trolley, But when she confirmed my suspicions that she was sleeping with her boss and planning to move in with him I was still shocked. There I was, alone in an apartment on the outskirts of the city while Cindy moved into a new luxury apartment in the center. And there I was now, six months later, still.

Staying over.

"Fuck man, that sucks! And what a bitch that Cindy is," Carl says after my story. Pffffew, it feels good to have told someone, especially when he reacts like that. Carl then talks about his wife Diana. Not about her death, but about what a nice, spontaneous, sweet woman she was. How they had always been soul mates, finishing each other's sentences. The evening goes by in the blink of an eye. When I finally get up to go to the bathroom before heading home I feel shaky on my feet, apparently not used to much alcohol anymore. Carl proposes that I stay the night. 
"I don't have a guest room, but my bed is king-size or something, so it's big enough. We would not want you to cycle against a tree after all you had to drink."

Even though I'm not normally that spontaneous I'm pretty easy to persuade. I send the children an app that I will stay with Carl because of the alcohol, so that they won't be worried in the morning when my tent is empty. Carl takes an extra toothbrush for me and a little later I am lying under sheets in his bed in my boxer shorts.

Normally I sleep naked, but that really doesn't seem appropriate. Carl comes in and the lights go out. As I've had with alcohol before, I can't fall asleep. The thoughts about being this close to a stranger, and telling about my failed marriage, are racing through my mind and I turn and twist a few times. "Can't you sleep as well? Me neither," Carl mentions in the dark. We turn toward each other, I think, and our conversation continues. About our wives and how different they were, about what it's like to be a single dad, and again about the women in our lives.

"Wait, I'm telling you all about her, but would you like to see what Diana looked like?" asks Carl.

I think it would be nice to have an image to go with of ​​the beautiful stories he tells, so I like the idea. He takes his phone from the bedside table, puts it between us and goes to the folder with pictures. I see a beautiful brunette. Sparkling eyes, full lips that are always smiling, full breasts (I'm guessing a C-cup opposite my ex's A) and long legs.

While swiping on the screen of the phone, I see that Carls finger remains for a moment above a folder marked private. Not long, but long enough to stand out. I'm still a little drunk and if I'm honest a little bit excited about the images of this beautiful woman, and ask if there are any more pictures there. "Well, I have other pictures, but they are pretty private. If I show them to you, you must promise not to tell anyone about it," Carl says. I nod and he opens the folder. These are indeed different photos. Still the same pretty Diana, but in these pics she poses in see-through lingerie, in a long satin nightgown, in a few pics even in nylon stockings with a garter belt. She looks into the camera sultry and sexy, with red lips and heavily made-up eyes.

Turned on.

I feel myself getting really turned on now, and lie on my side to give my growing cock a little more room in my boxer shorts. By the light of the telephone I can see that Carl has a flush on his cheeks, he apparently also finds sharing these photos exciting. The pics now become more explicit. In one she sits in a chair, a skirt pushed up around her waist, while fingering herself. Then Diana lying on her back, looking into the camera. Her breasts in a see-through bra, and at the bottom of the pic you can see a really big cock sliding between her spread legs. "Is that you?" I ask.

"Yes, that's me," answers Carl with a grin. "Although I also have pictures of her with other men." Pfffffhhh, I'm about to burst. "Nothing to be ashamed of," he says, as if he can read my mind. "I've seen those pictures so many times and every time they still turn me on. After all, it is also a very natural reaction to such a hot woman. Do you mind if I, um, help myself?"

I'm not sure how to react to that and I stammer a "no, of course not." Of course I don't see what's going on under the sheets, but I can feel Carl taking off his shorts. Based on what I saw in a flaccid state this afternoon, his cock must be huge cock by now. Carl doesn't seem to see me anymore, because he has his eyes closed and I notice how his hand moves back and forth under the sheets with slow, long strokes. Fuck. My own shorts are now full of pre-cum at the front, and if I am not careful, I will soon cum in them. Then of course I will be too shy to take them off and will have to spend the night in sticky pants, just like when I drove home after a hand job from my ex.

That does it, no way I will let that happen again. So I too slide my boxers down and grab my cock. It is now very hard when I start pulling slowly. I'm afraid that I might come very soon, but that is not possible. The fact that there is a strange man lying right next to me, naked, jerking himself off in bed is quite a distraction. Then the bed moves and I feel Carl moving closer. I try to pretend that I don't notice, but then I can feel his leg against mine. It feels like my skin is on fire. For months, what am I saying, for much longer I haven't felt another body against mine, so somewhere it makes sense that this is how it feels. I just pretend that we both think of that beautiful brunette in horny lingerie with a hard cock in her pussy that we just saw in the picture.

But Carl knows how to scare me even more. I feel the fingers of his hand wrap around my hand, the hand I'm jerking myself with. For a moment his hand goes up and down in the rhythm of my masturbation, then I feel a warm breath in my ear.

Some help.

"Shall I help you?" he whispers in my ear. I don't know what to do! Well, I do, get up and run, but my god I'm so horny and it's been so long. And we're both thinking of the same woman. So without saying anything I let go of my cock and feel his hand wrap around it. Red-hot fingers, soft, strong, slowly going down and up again. Ooooh fuck, this is good. Make's sense, a woman probably knows best how another woman likes to be fingered as well. For months, no one cared about my cock except myself, and now I'm suddenly jerked off. Naked, by a man. I'll probably be ashamed in the morning, but then I can always blame it on the alcohol, I probably didn't know what I was doing anymore etc etc.

Then his hand leaves and I think it's over, and I'm disappointed, my cock throbbing under the sheets. Then Carl brings his hand back, only this time wet and slippery. He probably licked his palm as a lubricant, something my ex used to do. And it feels so good, I can't stop a moan anymore. I, shall I? I don't dare I don't dare I don't, but I want it so badly now. Before I can change my mind I turn on my side a bit and reach out to where I think his dick is. My god, what a pole! Glowing, as if on fire. It feels twice as thick as mine, hard, throbbing. I put my hand around it and do what I normally do to myself.

I I hear Carl moan, and it is bizarre how hot that is. Here's someone moaning, horny, because of something I do. And not just anybody, but another man, a naked guy with a huge cock. I let go of some inhibitions and do what he did. I collect saliva in my mouth and wet my palm and fingers all over. I take his cock in my hand again, and in my mind I see how my saliva and his pre-cum mix. I twist my fingers around his wet head, a lot bigger than mine. "Ooohyes Nikki, you're so good, please keep going," Carl says.

My cock is about to explode. No one calls me Nikki, everyone sticks to Nick, and there's something very intimate about using my name like that. And here is a man who had an incredibly beautiful wife, a woman who let herself be photographed during sex, and that man enjoys my handjob. Then I must be doing something right. I feel proud, also a little confused, but I don't have time to think about that. I can feel all through my body that I am going to cum. The muscles in my legs contract, my cock throbs like never before and I'm making small fucking motions with my hips to feel Carls hand even better. I think he feels the same, because it almost feels like his huge cock is getting bigger. I can feel it beating in my hand, hot and hard.

"Oooooooh Nikki, yes, like this, I'm cumming Nikki, mmmmmmmhhhhhhhhh". I feel his cock squirt in my hand, and it's so different from jerking myself off. It pulses and grows and squeezes with ever spurt. I can feel hot, sticky cum running through my fingers. I can't see it, but I imagine thick white cum, thick male sperm now in my hand. That thought (and Carl's words, fuck) are enough to bring me over the edge. And for a moment I don't see anything anymore, only stars in my head and behind my eyes. Months of frustration and pent-up sexual energy come out with a discharge that almost makes me cry, it is so intense and wonderful and wonderful. As an expert, Carl milks me completely dry until the last drop. Then he lets go of my cock, and I feel him using his hand to wipe his own load of cum off his stomach. Then I see that he puts his hand to his mouth and licks it up.

Carl looks at me closely and ask, "I don't have a towel nearby and I don't want these clean sheets to get dirty. Could you clean it up too?" Uhm, okay, as if not enough new things have happened today. But I don't want to disappoint Carl and so I wipe the sticky mess off my own stomach with my hand. It smells a bit strange and it tastes even weirder, but it's also very exciting. This is very, very special. It's not at all as strange as I expected and for some reason the question of how Carl's cum would taste like pops up in my head. But before I can think about it any further I hear a soft snore next to me. Some things are the same for everyone. Confused but terribly satisfied I surrender to sleep. I don't dare to think about tomorrow.

To be continued...