Trust Ch. 07

I tested out my quickly worked out (on the fly, as it were) plan by giving the still exposed part of his length some vigorous stroking as I took him back out of my mouth and then cupped my other hand closely around his head that was just starting to dribble. I was relieved to see his attitude unchanged. I repeated the stroking and cupping treatment a couple more times and then on the third stroke, with a long groaning gasp, he came into my hand. I had to surreptitiously twist my hand around him to contain his load as his sticky warm milk began to flow out between my fingers. I gathered up what I could with my other hand and rubbed it into his length.

Thankfully, he kept his eyes closed for a few more seconds as he enjoyed his aftermath. "Oh you are so good", he smiled.

"How do I compare with all the other girls?" I asked him cheekily as I began to clean my hands with a wet wipe from a packet that Emma's wonderfully foresighted handbag packing had provided for me, knowing full well what his answer would be. I was right.

"Baby, you're the best," he sighed.

"I bet you say that to all the girls," I teased as I finished wiping his helmet.

He opened his eyes at last just in time to see me finish wiping around my mouth with a clean wet wipe. "You taste very nice," I twinkled at him as I pulled up his trousers and fixed him back in. I stood up to him again and curled my arms around his neck.

"It's too bad you're going away tomorrow. We could have had some great times together," he smiled, with genuine regret in his eyes.

"Ships passing in the night," I smiled back sympathetically. "But we had a great time tonight. Thank you for that. And thank you for what you said to me about beauty being on the inside. I'll always remember you for that."

I was amazed at how much I was able to absorb myself into my female persona as I lifted up the heels of my black plimsolls in order to be able to plant my lips squarely on to his and began to kiss him passionately, although as I felt through my black leggings his suddenly renewed erection pressing against my groin I was glad of the impregnable and unyielding barrier of the Underpants of Doom between us; otherwise my own mounting excitement, as his hands stroked my pony tail, descended my spine and smoothed down over my silly frilly little tutu skirt before rising up again beneath my skirt to rest on my bottom, would have given me away.

After several minutes of passionate interaction Emma and I both reluctantly disengaged from our partners and we all walked a little sadly together to the entrance of their block. We kissed and made our goodbyes and they waved to us from the foyer until the lift took them away and we never saw them again.

Emma and I had a long walk home arm in arm and plenty of time to talk. She began to recover her sensibility in the cool evening air as we huddled close together in our thin coverings of black leotards and leggings for warmth. As we walked we flexed our toes inside our black plimsolls against the cold being drawn up from the pavement through their soft rubber soles and our thin soft cotton rich day-glo ankle socks into our feet. We preferred to continue sharing our close feminine companionship in this way rather than opt for the comfort of a taxi.

"I'm so sorry I got you into that," she giggled. "I really don't know what came over me. The wine must have flowed a little too freely."

"It's OK," I smiled. "I quite enjoyed it actually. They were nice guys and they deserved a bit of fun for treating us like ladies; though they probably don't think of us as ladies so much now." We both laughed. "You seemed to get on with Wes OK, although from what I could see you seemed to be on the same level most of the time," I observed.

"You're right there," she agreed with feeling. "He was fun to be with but that was all, really. He never really let his guard drop and he didn't share much about himself at all. He was really frustrating. He had a nice dick though," she giggled again.

"I'm glad you copied my trick with the hand," I said to her. "I would have felt really cut up if you'd actually let him come in your mouth." I squeezed her hand to emphasize the point.

"I know you would," she smiled affectionately to me, "and I'm flattered that you would. In fact that means a lot to me. And because of that there's no way I would have let him come in my mouth. The only taste of man I want from now on is yours, especially when it's wrapped up like this." She stroked my false breasts through the tight stretch of my leotard. I so wished they were real at that moment

We stopped walking and I, forgetting for a moment who I was meant to be, drew her into my arms and began to kiss her. We kissed for a long moment in the deserted residential road until a passing motorcyclist, seeing two girls dressed as ballerinas in black leotards, tights and plimsolls kissing passionately in a tight embrace, beeped his horn as he sped by. Suddenly recollecting ourselves, we continued walking as we laughed in our embarrassment. Then I had a sudden thought.

"What would we do if we did happen to meet them again when we told them we would be going around the world for six months? I'd be alright but they'd recognise you straight away."

"That's easy," she grinned, "I'll tell them I met you on the way to the airport and that you went away without me!"

As we came into the welcoming warmth of her flat she hugged me and asked, "So how do you like being one of the girls?"

"I like it a lot, you definitely haven't seen the last of Charlotte," I enthused, returning to my normal voice. "I love dressing up to feel girly and sexy and I love going out in girly sexy clothes. But more than that I like how people open up to me more and give me much more attention as a woman, even if some of the attention is the sort I wouldn't necessarily choose. I really liked having the freedom to observe a person and relate to them more closely on more levels. I learned a lot more about Bill relating to him as a woman than I ever would have done trying to relate to him as a man. Even so," I grimaced, "it will be a relief in one way at least to get back to being a man. These bloody underpants are starting to kill me."

"Will you stay as a girl for just a little longer," she smiled as I noticed her advancing on me.

"What are you doing?" I smiled broadly as she proceeded to push me back down onto the sofa and get on top of me.

"I want to check again to see if kissing a girl is more exciting than kissing a boy," she smiled wickedly with a hungry look in her eyes.

My temperature begin to rise and my tightly restricted manhood begin to protest again even more vociferously as her lips fused on to mine and I felt her breasts pressing into mine through the thin lycra membrane of my leotard and I heard the mingling rustle of our tutu skirts as her groin rubbed against mine through the equally thin stretches of our leggings, and her black plimsolls began to rub against my legs through the sheer black nylon that moulded them.

She wore black slip-on plimsolls in bed that night. I was not wearing underpants.