My Name is Raquel Ch. 06

My name is Raquel and I'm a crossdresser.

My saga began when I was about five years old. I mostly played with my sister and her friends and they would sometimes dress me up in girl's clothes.

When I was 18, I started wearing on my sister's panties.

My freshman year in college, I acquired my first pair of panties in the dormitory laundry room. And I began a collection.

After graduation, when I married, I hid what was, at the time, just a panty fetish from my wife.

Years later, I was caught and transformed into Raquel by my stepdaughter, Jessica .

Who betrayed my secret and outed me to her mother.

As it turned out, all of my fears were for nothing, Allison was thrilled to indulge my urges.

As a matter of fact, her lifelong friend, Crystal was a transgendered male.

The two of them, along with Jessica, embraced my inner girl and were always helping me, improving my transformation whenever we got together, making me a better girl.

We shared everything: lingerie; clothes; shoes & boots; makeup tips; jewelry; tastes in men and women; sex toys; penises, pussies & cum.

Which brings us to now.

Allison, Crystal, and Jessica had plans to go to Atlanta for the weekend to see a concert. They invited me, but I didn't really care for the artist. And while a weekend in Hotlanta, as Raquel, with the three girls I love the most, was tempting, I opted to stay home.

I knew, and they knew, that I would spend the weekend as Raquel, anyway.

They left Friday morning. As they loaded up in Crystal's Lexus SUV, I hugged and kissed them goodbye and told them to have fun. Allison blew in my ear and whispered, "You, too. Don't do anything we wouldn't do." And gave me a wink.

I didn't really have any plans.

Friday evening, I decided to go to our favorite salon for a mani/pedi. Of course, I first transformed into Raquel.

I make a very convincing and beautiful woman, or so I'm told, but the Korean girls at the salon are very observant and I'm sure they know. I didn't care, because, I think they really like me and, besides, they always give me the star treatment. Allison claims they always spend more time and do a better job on me than anyone else.

Afterwards, I decided to go to a local sports bar for a few beers. Crystal would have disapproved. I can hear her saying, "Ladies don't drink beer." However, I just love a good craft beer.

I got hit on a few times and I didn't pay for any of my beers, but I turned away all the advances. I loved the attention, though, and felt so girly, in spite of my beverage choices. And I wasn't necessarily dressed to kill.

When I got home, I couldn't help but think how attracted the guys were to me and I began getting hard, my manclitty stretching the silky fabric of my panties.

I went to the bedroom and looked into the mirror. I saw a girl dressed in casual black slacks, a comfortable white blouse, with brown hair, not too much makeup and wedge sandals (to protect my recently manicured and painted toenails). I thought, "Wow, if this look gets that much attention, I wonder how much I'd get if I tried." It was just a thought at the time, though, not a plan.

I stripped down to my matching bra and panties and lied on the bed. I started touching myself, gently scratching my balls and tracing my cock with my newly manicured fingernails through my pale pink Wacoal Bodysuede lace hi-cut briefs. I was not wearing any breast forms. I massaged and pinched my nipples through the La Femme t-shirt A-cup bra.

My mind wandered.

One of the guys from the sports bar was feeling me up, trying to get into my panties.

I reached into my panties and took my hardening clit and rotated it and tucked it between my thighs. Wouldn't want a guy to see that thing sticking up, tenting these sexy panties.

I would, of course, resist at first. But my libido would be as strong as his or stronger.

I would succumb, but I would be in control.

I would have him sit on the bed.

I would kneel on the floor between his legs and unzip his fly. (I got on the floor.)

I would pull out his dick. (I grabbed a dildo from the nightstand.)

I would lick the tip, tasting his precum. He was already leaking, because he found me so hot. (I put my hand into my panties and found a droplet the end of my clit and wiped it on the dildo, then licked it.)

I would wrap my lips around just the head. (The dildo slipped in my mouth.)

I would suck him in deeper and deeper. (The dildo hit the back of my throat.)

I would eventually take all 8 inches of his manmeat. (I swallowed, relaxed my throat and deepthroated the dildo.)

I would begin bobbing up and down his shaft, working my tongue all over it. (I worked the dildo in and out.)

I would bring him to the brink and I would stop. (The dildo came out of my mouth.)

I would whisper, "I want you inside me!"

I would crawl up on the bed and put my ass in the air, lowering my head to the pillows. (I got into the doggie position on the bed.)

I would tell him to look at my pussy and see how wet he'd made me. (I grabbed some lube and used my finger to prepare my opening.)

I would tell him I was ready for him to enter me. (I put the head of the dildo against my glory hole and slowly applied pressure.)

I would push back, wanting him inside. (The dildo would push past my defenses and pop in.)

I would tell him I liked it nice and slow to start. (I slid the dildo in and out, in a gentle rhythm.)

"Faster." He would really lean into me and pick up speed. (The dildo began stroking me.)

"Fuck me! Cum in me! Make me cum!" (The dildo rammed in an out, ravaging my G-spot.)

I would feel him explode, filling my pussy. "I'm cummmming!"

I flooded my panties.

What just happened? Was I a girl that just got fucked in her pussy? Was I a guy dressed as a girl who just got his ass pounded? I had to be a girl in that scenario, because trapping a guy the other way might be dangerous. I shuddered when I thought what a guy picked up in a sports bar might do if he found out I had a dick.

Either way, I was spent. I left the dildo in my ass. I pulled my panties off and licked up and swallowed my cum. Or was it his cum?

I drifted off to sleep.

The next morning I awoke. The dildo had slipped out and was laying right next to my ass. It wasn't a dream. I couldn't stop thinking about the fantasy, though.

I needed to get my mind off of it. I decided to go shopping.

I got up, showered and transformed, including in my preparation, the ritual Jessica had taught me of cleansing my manpussy with an enema.

I was wearing sand colored, lacy bikini panties from Soma and a matching C-cup bra. The breast forms Crystal had given me filled the bra nicely and the adhesive gluing them to my chest made them tug and bounce like the real thing. I tucked my manclitty between my legs and held it in place with the snug panties while a mild adhesive set, keeping it safely tucked away.

Concealing foundation, and powder gave me a glowing complexion. False eyelashes, eyeliner, brown eyeshadow and fire engine red, sparkly lipstick were applied. The French tip nails I had chosen last night went with anything. I chose a brunette wig and tasteful gold jewelry.

A tight white t-shirt blouse clung to my breasts. A leather skirt, cocoa stockings and short brown boots, showed off my toned legs. A short white jacket accentuated my breasts and hips.

I was so comfortable as Raquel, I had no fears going to the mall, shopping for new outfits, mingling with the girls in lingerie specialty stores. I relished the attention from the men and women as i confidently went about my business.

After browsing several stores and just walking around the mall, basking in the feeling of girliness, I found what I was looking for, even though I hadn't been looking for anything particular. A short red minidress in the window of Lulu's screamed, "Buy me!". I entered the store.

A clerk came up to me. "Hi! I'm Chrissy. Can I help you find anything?"

"Hi, Chrissy. I'm Raquel. I really like this dress."

"That's new. It would look adorable on you."

Chrissy helped me find the right size and loaned me a strapless bra so I could try it on. I headed to the dressing rooms. She followed. She said she would wait outside in case I needed anything else. I'm pretty sure I knew what she was looking for, but I don't think she knew what she would get.

I went into the dressing room and slipped out of my clothes. I put on the borrowed bra, adjusting my tits.

Suddenly, she brazenly opened the door to the dressing room. "Do you need help?" Luckily my clitty remained tucked.

"Yes, please. Could you zip me?" I slipped the dress over my head and she zipped it up in the back, her hands touching me places they really didn't have to. I spun around giving her a view from all angles.

She couldn't stop talking about how great it looked on me. I thanked her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Her eyes said she wanted more, but that wasn't why I was here. I was, however having a great time seeing the effect I was having on her.

I pulled my phone out of my purse and asked her to take a picture. I would send it to the girls, later. She also wanted to snap a selfie with the two of us.

"Well, I was probably going to buy it anyway, but you've convinced me. I'll take it, but I don't think I'll wear it home. I'll take the bra, too."

She took the hint, and said, "Well let me know if there is ANYTHING else I can do for you." She unzipped me and let herself out of the dressing room.

I changed back into my bra and clothes. Chrissy was still hanging out around the dressing rooms and when I exited, was quickly at my side and said, "Let me me check you out." She was obviously not discouraged.

I gave her a bit of hope with another quick peck, this time on the lips and said, "You've been a doll, Chrissy, and I'll definitely ask for you, next time I'm here." She lit up. "Thank you, Raquel. I can't wait!" "Oh, would you send me copies of the pictures?"

The girl was smitten. I knew her game. I handed her my phone and said, "Here, put your number in."

I pulled up the pics, found her contact and hit send. Her phone dinged and she saved my info. She was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

She then took the dress, put it on a hanger and slipped a clear bag over it, and put the bra in a small bag. She rang up my purchases, giving me her employee discount. I slung it over my shoulder and walked out of the store and through the mall. I loved seeing the reaction of people, looking at me, then looking at the beautiful dress, slung over my shoulder, then imagining me in this dress. I could see raw animal lust in their eyes. In the parking lot, I hung it on a hook in the back of my Jeep and headed home.

The dress WAS gorgeous and would look good on any of the girls in my life. Allison, Crystal, and Jessica would be so excited with my purchase. And I had accomplished what I had set out to do. I had so much fun shopping, I hadn't thought about last night.

After I arrived home, though, I couldn't keep my mind occupied and it kept wandering back to last night's fantasy.

I decided I would return to the sports bar, just to watch my favorite college football team on a jumbo screen, with like-minded fans, I told myself.

I showered, shaved and de-haired my entire body again. I also repeated the douching of my love hole. I wanted to feel and look my best, for myself, I told myself again.

I reapplied my breast forms and chose a sexy leopard-print bra and panty set. While I wasn't trying to impress anyone, no flat chest A-cup, tonight. I again tucked and glued my clitty in place between my thighs.

Stockings were a must. A nude pair would do.

Next I did my makeup. Extra time was spent getting it just right. False eyelashes were reapplied. Raquel was going to be a redhead, tonight, so deep brown eyeshadow with hints of red, was called for. I glued on my wig. A neutral tan eyeshadow was placed under the brow as a highlighter. Under the eyes and on the lid to line the eye, a rust shade brought out my green eyes. Deep red lipstick created a shiny, wet-looking, velvety coating. A brown eyeliner and eyebrow pencil completed the look.

I pulled on some skinny jeans. Next, a red button-up long-sleeved blouse with enough buttons left unbuttoned to show the right amount of cleavage. And lastly, some black ankle boots with 3-inch stiletto heels.

I wasn't really trying to impress anyone, I told myself. Just a girl going out for a beer and some football.

I grabbed a small clutch purse and stuffed a compact, my lipstick, my credit card, my cellphone and a small tube of lube (not that I would need it) in it.

I grabbed my keys, walked out of the house, climbed into my Jeep and headed to the sports bar.

When I arrived, I confidently walked in and found a seat at the bar and spun around on the barstool to face the biggest TV.

My entrance didn't go unnoticed. Before I could order my first beer, the bartender asked what I was drinking and said that the table of guys in the middle of the room was buying. I ordered a New England style IPA and when it arrived, turned and raised my glass to them and mouthed, "Thank you."

The game kicked off and my attention turned to the TV. I love college football and I love my team, so I barely noticed when one of the guys from the table, sat down on the barstool next to me. I screamed at the TV, "What the fuck, Ref? That was clearly pass interference, you asshole!" Luckily, my training didn't let me down and my voice still sounded ladylike, even if my language wasn't.

"I love a passionate fan."

"Oh, I'm so sorry for my language."

"Don't be. That was a shitty call. Hi, my name is Russell."

I noticed him, for the first time. He looked familiar.

"You're Russell Johnson!" A former all-star wide receiver for my team, whose pro career was ended by a horrific knee injury.

"I'm surprised you recognize me."

"Are you kidding? That catch against State in the '14 conference championship was poetry in motion. As a matter of fact, you carried the team on your back the whole season."

"I'm impressed. I had that one pretty good year in college and a lackluster pro career."

"Don't give me that shit. You still have two records at the University and your pro career was taking off until that injury."

"Wow. I think I've found the president of my fan club. Which until now, I thought only consisted of my mom."

We laughed.

"So you know who I am, what's your name?"

"I'm sorry. Where are my manners?" I held out my hand, "Hi, I'm Raquel."

"It's a pleasure to meet my biggest fan, Raquel." He took my hand and shook it, holding on a little longer than necessary.

He then let go and bought me another beer and our attention returned to the game.

Our conversation went back and forth between his career and the game at hand.

I told him that I had graduated from the University in 2000 and almost let it slip that I had met my wife there. That would have killed the mood quicker than beer turns to piss. Which reminded me that my bladder was full. I excused myself.

I walked across the bar and looked back over my shoulder. He was definitely checking out my ass, but quickly tried to make it look like he was studying his nearly empty beer glass.

I reached the restrooms and raised my hand to grab the door handle to the men's room and caught myself and turned left and went into the ladies room. Damn it! I hoped he hadn't noticed.

I returned and everything seemed the same as before. "I did the math. There's no way you're 40," he said.

"You're right. I'm 39."

"No disrespect intended, but you're hot for 39."

I blushed. "Thank you."

We had another beer.

By halftime our team had a precipitous lead.

When the first half ended, Russell said, "There's a lot of ruckus here. You want to go to my place and watch the second half there? I mean, look, I like you. You're fun, and I don't want you to think I'm looking for a quickie. I really just prefer watching the team without a bunch of drunks distracting me."

I was a little tipsy from the high-gravity beers, but not that drunk. Russell had been a perfect gentleman and I told myself, "Nothing's going to happen."

"I agree. I usually watch the games on my couch at home. Let's get out of here. I'll follow you."

He walked out and slid into a beautiful Lamborghini. I pointed to my jeep and climbed in, and we were on our way. He only lived about 10 minutes away.

His place was in a very nice gated neighborhood. I guess he made enough money during his short pro career to afford it. We drove up a curved driveway, providing privacy from the street and stopped on the circular drive with a pretty fountain in the center in front of a gorgeous house. We walked in through a beautiful foyer, past tastefully decorated living and dining rooms. We turned and entered a large comfortable looking den with a TV larger than the bar had. He turned on the game and we sat close but not too closely to each other on the couch.

During a commercial break, he offered me another beer.

"What do you have?"

"Come on, let me show you."

We went through his kitchen and entered his "beer cave".

I was jealous with the selection. There were some mighty fine beers, some in refrigerated displays, some on shelves. There were probably hundreds. I scanned the room and settled on one. "I'll have that barrel-aged stout from North Carolina."

"A wise choice, M'lady. You really seem to know your beers." It was a 22-ounce bottle. He opened it, poured both of us a glass and we returned to the den to watch the game.

"You live here, in this big beautiful house all alone?"

"Well, I travel a lot. I luckily still have sponsor endorsements. And I have a house in Acapulco."

"Wow!"

Our team began pulling away during the third quarter and the 14% ABV beer began loosening me up. I scooted closer to him and leaned back against his chest. He rubbed my shoulders and began getting just a little handsy.

"Whoa, Raquel! Consider what could happen," my mind spoke. I recoiled slightly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come on too strong," he apologized.

"That's ok, I may have sent mixed signals."

"I understand. You don't have to explain."

I had stumbled onto a stud athlete who could have any woman and who was a perfect gentleman and he had chosen me. I could feel an insatiable desire building for this hunk.

"Shut up." I was still laying against him. I turned my head and kissed him. The game on TV was forgotten. I turned over so I was laying on top of him. We began making out. Like my fantasy, though, I decided I would be in control.

So when he started trying to explore my body, I playfully slapped the backs of his hands. "Easy, big boy." He backed off.

"Please don't discover my secret," I prayed.

I was in control, but I didn't know how long I could maintain it.

I broke our kiss and got up.

"You're leaving? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. I hope I didn't come on too strong." Damn, he was so sensitive.

"No. It's okay." I held out my hand. "Show me your bedroom."

"Are you sure?"

The look in my eyes didn't warrant a reply.

He led me through the massive house to the master suite.

"Listen, Russell, sexual intercourse is out of the question. It's the wrong time of the month, if you know what I mean," I lied. "But, I want you." And I did.

"Raquel, I want you understand that I'll do whatever you want. I can't believe how lucky I am you agreed to come home with me. I don't usually do this, pick up women in bars, that is. And this wasn't intended as a pick-up. I was being honest about just wanting to get away from the rowdy crowd at the bar,"

I kissed him again. "I believe you. You've been extremely chivalrous, almost too chivalrous. I can't believe I had to make the first move," I smiled.