I Finally Got My Wish

It was five-thirty in the morning; way too damn early when my cell phone alarm went off--loud! At that same moment I heard a noise outside my apartment window, a pleasant sound, it was raining. My room had no color, nighttime dark. I turned to look out the window and saw faint sparkles of rain lightly falling among the yellow glow of two street lights against the dark, moonless sky. I touched my phone to silence the screaming, morning daemon when the sound of the rain became forefront, the static-like sounds of falling rain. Gentle rain has to be one of God's most beautiful sounds. Imagine a pan of frying bacon, the sounds of the micro splatters of grease gently leaping into the air. This is what an, early morning rain sounds like.

As my window was cracked just a tad, I began to smell the rain--sinfully beautiful. It was a gorgeous light rain without the lightening or thunder. I rolled over and swung my legs out of the bed and I stood up. Then, as if I had been doing this for years, I pulled on the left side of my soft panties as they had ridden up my bottom. Next, "Not fair," was the thought running through my mind, I was still so tired. However, I did have a bit of a smirk on my face. Even though I was tired I remembered it was my first night wearing both a bra and panties to bed. I paused for a moment to feel the bra strap against my chest; I had finally done it. I had begun living as a woman and for the first time in years, I was simply happy. My smile did not end there. As I walked into the bathroom, closed the door, my smirk turned into a full-blown smile as I saw myself in the mirror. I was completely nude except for the matching, pink bra and panties. Even though I had a smaller A-cup bra, I noticed my penis bulge was remarkably small, and that alone made me quite happy. The last thing a person like me wants is a massive dick-bulge. I removed the bra then the panties, it was time to shower. The hot water felt so good as I shaved and washed everything. Morning showers were the best part of any day. I got dressed in my typical boy clothes, but from now on I wore beautiful panties underneath. This was my last year of college and I was ready to graduate and get a job. College was fun, but it was time to move on. Feeling absolutely pretty on the inside I grabbed this old, Army-green, worn jacket and headed out the door.

Whoever invented the necessary hot beverage known as coffee, did more for humanity than the discovery of the wheel. Humans were simply not meant to walk on Earth without coffee. It's Fall outside; late September in the Midwest. Cool, crisp, jacket wearing weather; my favorite time of year and my last semester of college, what was not to love. I live for this time of year, especially if you have a cold morning, a warm jacket, and my favorite, a hot cup of roasted black coffee.

I was on the way to my first class, music history. However, I needed to make a routine stop at my favorite coffee shop first. The coffee shop was a historic, red brick building which sat on the corner of Fifth Avenue and Thomas Blanks Street. It was located Eureka a small college town in rural Illinois. Rumor has it this small, two door, brick building was once used as Abraham Lincoln's law office when he graduated from college and the reason they call it, The Judge Chambers. To me, the name sounds more like a horror movie than a coffee shop, but they did make a mean dark blend.

I was feeling unusually happy this morning, but couldn't put my finger on, as to why. As I walked into the coffee shop I noticed it was lightly populated, nearly empty. Then, I realized it was only six-thirty in the morning. Normal people are still asleep. I rolled my eyes; at myself.

As I was placing my order, talking to the young lady dressed in all white, when I remembered why I was so happy. I began to smile outwardly. I could see the look on her face. She too wondered why, out of nowhere, I began to smile, nearly laugh. Perhaps she thought I was mad, crazy, or even a psychopath. Actually, the answer was quite sexy, closer to erotic. It was nothing more than pink, soft panties and it was my first time wearing them in public under male jeans. I could not have felt any more girlie, more feminine if I tried. With a smile on my face, soft panties below, and a cup of hot Joe I began my traditional walk to class.

My walk to class usually took about a half hour, but today I didn't care if it took three days. I felt like a girl, I was happy, and that's all that mattered. Also, I instantly noticed wearing panties seemed to make my suicidal level of depression simply vanish, and that sure as hell didn't cost one-hundred and twenty dollars an hour!

These pretty and pink feelings I have inside me are incredible and they are hard to capture. Mostly they are: female-like pretty, girly, feminine, soft, happy, gay, vulnerable, submissive, sexy, and not to mention the soft panties against my crotch and thighs caused me to have several erections this morning alone.

I loved the morning walks, but today was off the charts. Not only did I get in a great walk, but it gave me time to think and unplug from technology. I made sure to put my phone away. My mind wondered down its own path while my nose took in delectable, and smoky damp-leaf smells of Fall. I was finally off to class.

My last semester of college was going well. I had a steady job and my grades were back to mostly "A's" and "B's." The crippling depression I had experienced most of my life was letting up as I began to socialize more, walk in the mornings, surf less porn, and finally; a steady girlfriend, but that's were things went a little, downhill. I had been dating this woman for three months when things took a whole new direction--due South.

Continuing on to class, I walked down a recently paved, black path which cut through the middle of our tree filled, beautiful campus. I began to relive the events from two weeks ago, late afternoon, my girlfriend and I broke up. I was upset, but I didn't seem to feel anything; more numb than pain. I thought she was the love of my life. I figured anyone who shared with me the sort of sad stories she told, I felt comfortable opening up to her about anything. I told her about my crippling depression, my past and my dysfunctional family life but, I didn't mention my erotic fetish of wearing panties; especially different shades of pink.

I could allow myself to ponder as too why she left, but she made it very clear. I had been caught wearing her panties, bra, and if that wasn't strange enough, she noticed me holding her vibrator. Weird, right? Well so much for a future marriage, we weren't that close anyways. For all of her other issues with me, the panties, bra, and who could forget the dildo, all seemed to be a deal breaker. She told me she had an open mind, but now I'm thinking she was referring to guys who painted pictures of bunnies, not men dancing around as women soaked in hot lube with energized warm dildos stuffed down pink panties! Our last night together went like this.

She had a key to my apartment, but how was I to know she got off work early. She came over, let herself in when she saw me standing in the living room dressed as, well; her. She was so pissed. At first, she began talking calmly, but that quickly escalated to prosecuting me as if under oath.

"Are you gay?" she yelled. "Why didn't you tell me you're gay?" Then, she became even more horrified when she realized I was wearing her most valued Victory Secret, pink bikini, panties. She yelled, "Goddam it, are those my Victoria panties!" I was sure the neighbors were calling the police. This is not what I expected.

"I am not gay!" I said, as she began to turn red. She looked at me as if I had lied to her about our entire friendship. Simply a blank, silent gaze. I felt horrible.

"What else should I know about you?" she asked with soaked eyes.

"I'm not gay. But I'm not totally boy either." I went on to tell her about these changes I had been feeling. About how my mind began to register physical changes in my steps, my gate and my hands! I was afraid she would become alarmed. I told her I thought these were good changes, sexy changes, a sexual experience type of change. I tried to tell her I have more to give a girl than a typical guy. I feel empathy, softness, I can enjoy both chick-flicks and war movies all in the same weekend. I tried my best to get her to realize having a feminine boyfriend was actually in her best interest. Lastly, I reminded her that I love to go down on her in bed. I continued to pled my case, yet nothing was working.

I told her how my hips have started to sway when I walk. How my hands open, palms down, swing left, then right when I walk down the street. I let her know my body had taken to panties better than I had imagined and how I loved it! I let her know how, for the first time ever, my mind felt free, sensual, and most importantly my depression had let up.

I finished my persuasive speech by telling her I wanted to wear male clothing, but prefer to wear female panties underneath. She asked one final question.

"Why didn't you tell me you were gay?" she asked. I didn't know what else to tell her.

"I grew up knowing I was male, but deep down there has always been a large feminine part of me," I said while she looked around the room. "I spent the better part of my life trying to fit in, watch NFL football, fix lawnmower engines for neighbors, shoot all kinds of guns, and live the typical male role. The problem is, that lifestyle, simply never made me happy." I stopped talking. She was looking out the window and then turned towards me. I waited for the yelling to continue.

She had nothing left to say. She gathered up an old photo of hers, a blue jacket, and snatched the dido from my hand. She went into the bedroom, slammed the door open and quickly came back out. She dropped all of her things into a shopping bag and walked out. She never even slammed the door closed. She vanished as I stood there nearly naked feeling emotionally exhausted. I wish she understood I wasn't gay, or was I? Now I wasn't even sure what I was. I felt confused, but at least I got to keep the panties--if there was a bright side.

My walk to school was quickly coming to an end as the time had flown by. That memory was two weeks ago and as luck would have it, I was on to bigger and better things. Finally, arriving at school, I sat in class for an hour listening to music history, boring. I kept thinking back to the breakup, not a happy time. So much for women. I needed to move on.

Three weeks later I found myself in a retail store full of straight men as I searched for a new shower curtain. I was in a local hardware store walking up and down the isles when I noticed something beautiful, something male, yet very soft and feminine. I saw this guy. He was in his early twenties with painted finger nails. He was so pretty. He was obviously gay or bi. His hair was so light and fluffy while his fingernails were painted a dark brown and they shined in the light which made them look wet. His single nose piercing was almost sexy until I noticed the jeans he wore. They were low riders and I could be wrong, but they looked as if they were from the women's section. I was smitten, infatuated, no, I was lovesick! He was trying to be a she. Maybe a fem-boy? Maybe gay? I didn't even care, all I knew was, I was quite lonely and I needed to talk to him. I gathered up as much courage as I had and approached. Not knowing what to say my mind went on autopilot and words simply feel from my, socially inexperienced mouth.

"They have a lot of cool old stuff here." I said as I could not believe what had just came out of my mouth. I smiled but noticed he wasn't turning to look at me.

"Yeah, it's all pretty cool," he said as he finally turned to look at me causing my body to short circuit; I was paralyzed. His eyes were so adorable, so pretty, dark brown like a small fuzzy woodland creature. Oh, my goodness, I wanted to take him home so bad! I had never felt this way towards a boy before, but he looked like a girl! What was I supposed to do?

"I need to take a shower." I said, and then just looked at him puzzled. I was totally messing this all up. He smiled back at me.

"Yeah, showers are pretty cool. Is your shower not working?" he asked. His gaze shot through me like a laser. He never blinked, yet his clean, white smile made him look more like a Saint. Just being in his presence made me feel safe, feminine, and mostly submissive all at the same time. Oh my goodness, was I in love? Was I flirting with him? Was he flirting with me?

"Actually," I said smiling with embarrassment, "I need a new shower curtain, mine is kind of old and beaten up."

"I need to pick up some rope," he said staring at me "and the shower curtains are towards the front of the store, I'll show you," he said as he began to walk. I couldn't help myself, as soon as he began to walk my eyes immediately went to his butt and hips. The women's jeans he wore accented the sway of his hips, I was mesmerized. Maybe he could tie me up with his rope?

"Thank you" I said, smiling and feeling unnaturally embarrassed.

"If you want, I could come over and help you hang them? Are you from around here?" he asked while looking at me as if he had known me his entire life. I didn't know what to say so I stood there, just smiling. Then, with grand humility and embarrassment all at the same time, I only giggled. I felt like a huge dork.

"Yes! I'm just on the other side of town, 313 River Road, It's a duplex kind of place--"

"Yeah, I know the place," he interrupted. "I've done some work over there," he said with more confidence than I've ever had in my entire life. His voice was slightly higher pitched, his movements were soft and slow kind of like a woman. He was pretty, effeminate, but for some reason I felt weak, and submissive. His gentle, feminine presence made want more.

"Really?" I asked, "You would do that for me?" I said waiting for his reply while looking into his beautiful, animal darkened eyes. I also couldn't help but notice he was in excellent shape. He probably went to the gym every day.

"Yeah, of course," he said smiling at me.

"That sound great, how about this afternoon, say, three o'clock?" I asked.

"Sounds good. I'll see you then. 313 River Road?" he asked.

"Yes, that's the one," I said while smiling, blushing, and holding my heart in my throat. As he was about to leave the store, he blurted out his name.

"I'm Robin!" he gently shouted, then stuck out his hand.

"Markus," I said. I too stuck out my hand and took his. We shook. For as effeminate as he looked, his hands felt like tough leather. Super tough hands. No wonder he was in a hardware store, he's probably a carpenter. I was on cloud nine. I was beyond happy.

He pulled out his phone and added me and my address to his contacts. He smiled, gave a slight nod, then left the store. What just happened! Did I just pick up my first guy? But I'm not gay! Right? In just a few hours a man was coming to my house to help me hang curtains? In my bathroom? I began to smile so big, people in the store gave generous stares. "Hell with them," I thought as I left the store.

I had purchased and took home the shower curtain. I raced home. I cleaned like I had never cleaned before. I put away all my girly things; sex toys, did the dishes, and of course began to clean the bathroom. How do bathrooms get so nasty?

A few hours later, and right on time. It was three o'clock and the metallic door knocker struck the bell--he was here. I opened the door and standing there was this person I had just met in the hardware store. I never thought I would be attracted to a guy. Yet, this was no ordinary male. The person standing at my door looked more like a female model, loose blue faded jeans, and skin tight, tan, short sleeved dress shirt. His dark brown hair was short and chopped like a girl. He sported cute white sneakers, and he smelled like cotton candy. He was definitely either a girl or transiting to become one. Either way, he was beyond attractive; and I hooked.

"Hello! Come on in," I said. He looked around taking in every detail. He pointed and nodded towards a piece of art I had picked up last year at an auction, an old oil painting. Then, he smiled when looking at my book shelf. Classic books adorned the entire six-foot, hardwood bookshelf. Lastly, I got a smile and a nod when he noticed my whiskey decanters.

"Whisky!" he said with a warm nod. "You have a very nice place," he continued. His eyes finally landed on mine. He must have inspected my entire apartment in thirty seconds. I gave him the very short tour and could not help but notice how polite he was. After everything I said, he would either smile and nod, or say, "You know, you're right!" He was like having an old soul in my home. It was great. I was beginning to feel a funny feeling in my stomach--probably butterflies. I had a crush on him, but I'm not gay!

"Thanks," I said. "Oh, did you want to help me with my curtain?" I asked.

Lastly, I took him to the other side of the one room apartment to see the bedroom. He walked in and of course walked over to the only dresser in the room and by sheer dumb luck managed to open the third drawer down. I tried to get words out. I tried to slam my hand over the drawer face, but it was too late. He opened the drawer. We both looked down at the contents, and then at each other. He was waiting for me to say something. I had nothing to say. We both new what dildos were used for, especially large pink ones and a lonely male wanting to feel female. Awkward! Damn awkward! But, once again he made me feel safe and secure.

"How about that shower curtain?" he asked while smiling at me, changing the subject. He never mentioned the dildo, what a classy move!

"Right here." I handed him the package, but the dildo sighting was still a fresh wound. He began to open it and unfold it. I followed him into the bathroom where we held it together. Throughout the five-minute process he kept looking at me smiling. The butterflies in my tummy were intensifying. I was so happy to be with him. Finally, the last hole was hung. The curtain was up. We smiled at each other when he broke the silence.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" he asked while reaching out and gently taking my left hand. His intensions were extremely sensual, with a seductive over tone in his voice while gazing into my burdened and sad eyes.

"I'm not sure," I said. I had no idea what to say. He sensed my shyness. He took my hand and placed it on his shirt, and together we unbuttoned him. After the first button was opened he dropped his hands down by his side leaving me to undress him, alone.

He a few inches taller than me, and after each button, I looked up into his soft eyes and smiled, moving down to the next. No more words were spoken. I had never been with a man, but my body and my erect penis sure wanted to try. He took me by the hand and led me to my bedroom where he placed me in front of my bed. While looking into my eyes he began to undo my jeans. First the button and then the zipper. He took down my jeans and I stepped out. I was left standing there in panties and he nodded his head in approval. He touched my right hip and panties, he nodded again in approval. He smiled at me again, then slowly turned me around. He was now behind me. I was confused, but he helped me understand what he needed me to do. He took his hand and pressed down on my upper back causing me to bend over my own bed. Then, I realized what was happening, he was preparing to sodomize me. The butterflies in my stomach intensified. I had only dreamed of this moment. He broke the silence.

"Let's see if that pink dildo has anything on the real thing," he said as I could no longer see him.