My Phantom Lover

Growing up, one of the things I hated was having to share a bedroom with my brother. Sharing with any brother would have sucked, but my brother was - well, I think the polite word is - an asshole. But I will admit that he was an asshole who was good at handyman stuff. So when our dad gave him permission to fix up an old shed we had at the back of our yard as his bedroom, I was both happy to get rid of him and also jealous that he got to have his own cool space outside the house! And as he was apprenticed as a plumber, he even put in a bathroom and connected it up to the water and sewer system. In effect, his "bedroom" was what today might be called a "tiny house."

And then a year later he moved out to take a job in another town. And I grew up enough to move into his cool little place. What made it especially cool was that I could now do far more often, what I loved to do when I got the chance - dress up as a girl. I had been doing it whenever I had the house to myself, but now every night after my parent's lights went out, I could put on make-up, dress up as a sexy teenage hottie and dream my dreams. Little did I know that they were going to become a reality.

It was my senior year in high school and I had got a job in a coffee shop owned by the mother of a friend. I wasn't super femme, but I wasn't exactly the stud of the year either, so there were several gay men who would visit the place and who would flirt with me. But although I was tempted, I was also scared. My family and small town neighborhood were blue collar, and being a "sissy" wasn't exactly a safe occupation. I knew what I wanted - I fantasized about it all the time - but I was terrified of the consequences of being found out.

There was one older man who came into the coffee shop frequently who would watch me constantly, though he avoided ever talking with me. He was there the day I turned eighteen and heard my friends all talking about the party they had planned for me. I didn't give it any thought, though later when I looked back on it, I realize that his face reacted when he heard the magic "18" number being mentioned... He also heard my friends teasing me about my "tiny house" becoming party central for all the teens in the neighborhood. Yeah, like my parents would be okay with that! Not!!

On the Friday night after my birthday, I was in my little house and as always, when I saw the lights go out in the main house, I made sure all the shades were closed and lit a few candles and transformed into my dream self - "Diane." After prancing around and posing in front of the mirror for an hour or more, I finally put on a nightie I had purchased from the Goodwill store and went to sleep. Well, I passed out to be truthful, as I was a part of the "420 friendly" crowd at school and with my coffeeship job providing funds and contacts, was usually able to obtain some pretty good stuff.

Some time later, probably a couple of hours, I briefly woke up with a start. I had felt a sharp pinch in my arm and what felt like a hand over my mouth, with a soft male voice saying "Relax baby. This is just a dream. A very sexy, wonderful dream. Just relax." I found myself drifting back to sleep, or at least it felt like sleep, though it also felt like I was in a hazy kind of waking state. I felt the covers of my bed being lifted back and the weight of someone lying down alongside me. I slept on my side anyway, so it was a "spooning" situation, even though I didn't know that expression yet. (Oh, I was so innocent! Well, somewhat innocent, compared to now anyway!) I felt strong arms around me and found myself sighing and snuggling back into the dream companion. He was kissing my neck and then I felt the hem of my nightie being lifted and my panties being pulled down. All the time there would be the occasional words that seemed to be in my head about this being a dream and to just relax and enjoy it. Well, what teenage boi is going to ignore that possibility?

Then I felt my butt cheeks being stroked - the dream was getting better and better. Then I felt something cold and slippery against my boi pussy and it felt so good. A slight pressure and my tight little rosebud opened up and I felt something slip inside. It was definitely smaller than the cucumbers and other fruit I had experimented with, but I loved the way it moved and explored the silky insides of my boi pussy. And then dear reader, I passed out. Deep sleep.

The next day I woke up with my alarm set as always so I could get myself ready for another boring day as a young man wearing boring clothes and with a boring face and a boring hair style. All necessary actions to avoid my parents finding out my secret and my neighbors beating the crap out of me for being a "sissy." At first I was a bit hazy about my dream, but then some of the details came back and I thought how nice it had been. Oddly, my butt was a bit sore, but nothing to worry about as I had woken up from the occasional cucumber session with it being much, much sorer. And so began another boring day that led into another boring week - all normal for a teenage boy in his senior high school year whose deep dark secret was that he really wanted to be Nicole Kidman or Lady GaGa.

That Friday night it was my turn to do the closing shift at the coffee shop, although the owner was always there to supervise because of my age. The "silent stranger" was there, as he often was on a Friday night, sitting by himself reading a book. Every now and then he glanced at me and I felt a strange feeling in my stomach - butterflies flitting around and all that girlie stuff. He really was a handsome "silent stranger" and I found myself wondering why he never tried to flirt with me, as he seemed like he was interested. But knowing my luck, he was probably straight and some kind of missionary who would try to tell me I better come to Jesus before the night was over. So silence was maybe the better thing...

My boss dropped me off at home and as always after Friday night shift, my parents were sound asleep and the house dark. So within seconds of my boss's car lights disappearing from the driveway, I was into my secret stash and transforming into my fantasy persona. I had a pretty basic wardrobe and cosmetic collection, but I had limited funds and was always terrified of buying things that would get me noticed. One thing I really wanted more than almost anything, was some sexy perfume. Oh well I thought - some day maybe...

As always, I posed and pranced until it was getting too late for it to be fun. I slipped outside and smoked a joint and then went back into my boudoir and as usual, after shucking off my mini skirt and putting on a cute little knee-length nightie, I fairly quickly passed out. And then came the crazy dream again. The short, sharp prick of what felt like a needle. What seemed like a hand over my mouth, and the quiet, sexy male voice in my ear assuring me that it was all a dream and to just relax and enjoy it. Then the hazy, twilight feeling of being asleep but not really... The rustling sound of clothes being removed. The creak of the bed as if someone was lying down beside me. The strong arms around me, and the kissing of my neck and then, on my lips. Or was it? I was numb and it all seemed unreal - yet deliciously surreal as well.

Again there was the feeling of my nightie being raised, the wet cool feeling of something slippery, the probing sense of something slipping into my eager boi pussy. Only this time, it was followed by something slightly bigger, gently probing me and slipping in and out. And then again, it got bigger, as though several fingers were exploring me. And then heaven of heavens, I smelled perfume being applied to my neck. Not just any perfume, but Givenchy Amarige, a fragrance I had experienced when my older sister got engaged and someone gave her the most expensive perfume available at our local mall. And then once again, the darkness of deep sleep.

Next day, my trusty alarm woke me up to the depressing task of removing my girl night clothes and make up and becoming boring old me again. And as in the previous week, the sense that I had experienced a wonderful erotic dream that somehow left me with my boi pussy feeling gently used. But this time there was something else - the lingering odor of that exquisite perfume. "But no" I said to myself, 'it was just a dream". It must be the pot still making my imagination race...

Fast forward through another boring week in the final semester of my senior year and my pathetic life as a boy who dreamed of being a girl. That weekend I had the Saturday night shift. Friday night was spent with some buddies playing video games and smoking some pretty pathetic weed. Come Saturday evening, I showed up to my shift at the coffee shop to find that my mysterious quiet stranger was already there - with a book as he always did, his customary cappuccino and looking even more handsome and distinguished than usual. He was probably in his late 30's, tall, well built, nicely dressed, hair starting to show some gray.

In short, my absolute wet dream of the man I wanted to meet some day who would make all my feminine fantasies a reality. Throughout my shift I kept trying to catch his eye, and from time to time succeeded. He was very cool - no obvious sign of any connection. But for the first time I noticed a small smile playing on the corners of his sexy mouth. And when I went to bus his table and bring him a fresh cappuccino, he quietly and quickly opened his hand and then closed it again. And I could have sworn that I saw the distinctive shape of a tiny flask of that heavenly perfume - Amarige.

Shortly after that he drained his cup, closed his book and left. And my eyes followed him as he went out the door and then, just before he vanished from sight, I saw him turn around and look back at me.

The rest of the shift seemed like eternity but it finally ended and my boss dropped me off at my darkened, silent home. As soon as her car lights vanished, I lit some candles and transformed myself as quickly as I could into Diane. I made sure my door wasn't locked (small town, nobody usually locked their door but just in case...) and then got into bed without getting high and without taking off the little black dress that looked so fucking sexy on me it even got me hard! And although I blew out all the candles as usual, I left one on right by the door with a handwritten note illuminated by it. "I want you. Please no needles - I want the dream to continue without me passing out!" I signed it "Diane." Then I lay down on top of the covers and tried to pretend to be asleep.

"Click." I heard my door handle quietly turn and felt the cool breeze of an open door. Quietly it closed again. There was a pause and then I heard the rustling sound of clothes being removed. I felt the bed squeak. I felt a hand over my mouth and a quiet, manly voice say "Relax baby, this is just a dream. A wonderful sexy dream". Only this time no sharp prick in my arm. No needle. No strange twilight. Just the soft breathing of a naked man nestling up beside me. And then the heavenly smell of Amarige being sprinkled on my neck and ears. Strong hands enfolding me. Soft lips kissing my neck and then my lips.

And this time I could respond. I wasn't frozen in a strange, dark dream world. I could put my arms around my phantom lover. My tongue could meet his. And I felt those strong hands pulling my panties down. I felt his fingers with the wet, cool lubricant begin to stroke my rose bud and penetrate my tight little boi pussy. One finger. Two fingers, then three. I moaned in ecstasy. And then came that big, hard yet silky soft pressure against my now opened up boi pussy, as something much more wonderful than a cucumber began to press against me, and then as I yielded, to enter me. Still the voice whispered, "This is just a dream. A wonderful, sexy dream." Only this time I was able to answer - "My name is Diane and I want this dream to go on forever." And dear reader, guess what? So far at least, it has...