tagTranssexuals & CrossdressersWe Need a Man in the House

We Need a Man in the House


The sun beat down on the asphalt with an unforgiving strength that bordered on relentless. The heat added to the discomfort of my losing efforts. My girlfriend, Carol, and I were playing tennis when the accident occurred. Carol is a better player than me, a lot quicker and more agile. We're about the same height and size and truthfully, I'm not that much stronger, so she held all the advantages.

At a crucial point in the match, Carol placed a shot across court and very shallow, toward the edge of the net. Flustered at the way she was dominating the match, I made a desperate attempt to reach the short shot.

Lunging forward—awkwardly, I caught the ball at the last second and managed to barely push it back over the net. Still propelling forward, I watched in amazement as Carol slammed it cross court for the winning point. As my eyes remained glued to the bouncing ball, my momentum carried me into the metal post that secured the net.

The hard object won.

Catching the post squarely in the groin, I saw stars shooting through my blackened mind. I fell, grabbing my aching crotch.

For long moments I wriggled on the ground, moaning in agony. As usual, Carol found my clumsy efforts amusing; despite the fact I was in considerable pain. Finally, taking pity on me at last, she helped me to the car, chuckling with each moan. Practically carrying me across the lot, Carol dumped me unceremoniously into the back seat. While I lay there, my hand trying to comfort my throbbing groin, she drove us home.

"Don't be such a baby, Donnie. Quit moaning so much, you sound like a little girl," Carol scolded. An amused smile flashed across her face at my obvious discomfort. Carol always smiled when I was put in an awkward situation, which unluckily for me, seemed to be quite often.

Stumbling to the couch, I fell across the soft cushions while Carol called the doctor. Being a bit of a wuss, I found the pain almost unbearable. Despair set in and I wondered if I would ever be able use the wounded warrior again.

Eventually, Carol returned with some ice cubes wrapped loosely in a dishcloth.

"Take your clothes off, you big baby," she demanded. A valiant attempt to disrobe proved unsuccessful and I fell back on the couch with another moan.

Taking charge once more, Carol yanked my shorts off. With obvious distaste, she pulled off my sweaty jock-strap. Holding the objectionable thing away from her wrinkled nose with only two fingers, she tossed it across the room in disgust. The pressure of the cold cloth against my groin elicited another groan. The ice cubes didn't do much to ease the pain, even as they shrank my already smallish member.

The sounds of my anguish were becoming annoying.

"Would you be quiet? You're worse than a girl!" Her eyes widened as though struck by an idea. She stood and walked away. "Just a minute, the doctor said there was something else I need to do to help ease your pain."

Carol rummaged about the kitchen before coming back. In her hands were three pills and a glass of water.

"What are these?" I asked.

"Just take them. They'll help you to relax." After she forced the pills down my throat I fell back against the pillow and tried to forget the pain. Minutes later, the powerful medicine started taking effect and I began drifting in and out of consciousness.

In the pleasant reverie, a soft, moist sensation covered the entire length of my legs. The feeling, incredibly sensual, was also slightly erotic. Following the dampness was a firm, scraping motion that also tickled my senses. As the scraping continued, my legs felt cooler, fresher, and smoother.

Helping me to my feet, Carol guided me into a very hot, scented bath. More scraping ensued, under my arms, on my chest and around my groin. The dream seemed very real, as did the exotic sensations.

The perfumed water and the sweet tingling of my skin caused a very pleasant feeling. Allowing me to soak for a while, the scent becoming one with mine, Carol finally pulled me out and toweled me dry.

Seating me on the toilet, she drew a sheer fabric up my legs. The cloth ensnared me snugly all up and down my legs and clasped tightly at the waist. The feel of the tight constriction against my skin by the garment was simply delicious.

With one hand under my arm Carol helped me to my feet. A very soft, satiny robe fell over my shoulders. It felt wonderful. After she toyed with my hair a little, she steered me to the bedroom. Almost as soon as I hit the pillow, I drifted off to sleep.

A few hours later, the obstinate sound of a doorbell awakened me from a deep slumber. My eyes flickered open and I noticed it was dark out. I thought it must be during the night sometime. Fumbling for some clothes I found a robe on the bed. Although it felt softer and sexier than my usual one I slipped it over my shoulders and fit my arms through the holes, stumbling towards the door. The robe was short and light, giving me a strange, unfamiliar, sensual reaction to its feel.

As I opened the door from the darkened bedroom, the bright lights from the living room temporarily blinded me. Blinking rapidly, I tried to focus. As my eyes cleared I saw Carol shaking hands with a tall, arrogantly handsome stranger, dressed in very stylish white shorts and a skin-tight, dark blue Polo shirt. My first thought was that the two made a very attractive couple, Carol, so alluring and the handsome stranger so ruggedly handsome.

As they entered the main room, their attention turned to me. Still groggy, I noticed they broke out with broad smiles on their faces. A little dazed, it took a moment before I realized that they were staring at me and my peculiar outfit. Glancing down, I examined my attire. The robe, a dark red satin, was Carol's. It was short, barely covering my crotch and I had tied it snugly around my waist. Pantyhose encased my legs.

"What the...?" Still groggy, I tried to comprehend the rather bizarre situation.

"Don't worry, Donnie," Carol explained, "it was the doctor's orders. He suggested wearing something tight to support your... injured area. A pair of pantyhose was the only thing I could think of that would do the trick. But never mind the medical reasons, you look darling in that outfit! Don't you think, Ron?" Oddly, they were still holding hands from the initial hand shaking.

"Who's he?" I asked.

"This is Ron. Remember I told you I wanted you to have a roommate for your protection?" She turned to the fellow to explain. "He's out here all alone in this big house and I worry about him so much."

Unfortunately, I remembered the conversation all too well. Yes, Carol had insisted I needed a roommate. Her reasons, she said, was that there had been a lot of robberies lately and she was worried about me. She didn't think I could protect myself. After a number of arguments, I lost the battle. I fought hard, but she was adamant. Being a man, I saw no need for someone to 'protect me'. Like always, she kept up her demands until I relented.

"We need a man in the house," she kept insisting, much to my chagrin. Obviously, I felt deeply offended by the belittling remarks but like all of our disagreements I had finally given in and let her have her way.

"This is your new roommate," Carol announced as she introduced me to the domineering presence.

Ron strode across the room as though he owned the place, stopping directly in front of me. Towering above me by at least a foot, he offered his rather large hand. The powerful arm seemed to be all muscle. My original intention was to show him a bit of my strength and grip his hand hard but he caught me by the fingers so all I could do was wiggle, like a wimp. As he squeezed, he took my breath away. He was so strong! The pressure increased and I felt small and weak, befitting the way I was dressed. Staring into his eyes, he seemed the master of the situation.

"Pleased to meet you, Donnie," he offered. Unfortunately, he called me by Carol's pet name for me. Under normal conditions, I preferred to be called Donald but, at the moment, for some reason, it didn't seem appropriate to correct him. He held my fingers much longer than he needed, but I didn't pull away, standing docilely, waiting for him to release me, following his lead.

"That is a very cute outfit," he said to Carol, still clinging to my fingers. They talked about me as if I wasn't even there. "Does... he dress this way often?"

I wanted to respond to the outrageous nature of the absurd statement, but Carol beat me to the punch and answered for me.

"We're the same size so we often wear each others clothes." She was grinning broadly with the reply and he smiled back in return. Of course I wanted to say something in my defense but I couldn't get a word in between their laughter.

"Donnie, be a good girl and mix some drinks for Ron and I while we discuss his living arrangements?" I started to say something about being called a girl but with my mind still befuddled from the drugs I did what I was told. While mixing the drinks I overheard Carol explaining to the arrogant stranger that he could live here for free since I had so much room and had a lot of money. She added that I was an excellent cook and housekeeper so that his only responsibility would be to watch over me—protect me and keep me from hurting myself. She made it sound like I was totally incapable of taking care of myself.

"He's such a clumsy little guy that I've often worried he'll lock himself in the bathroom or fall down while showering or some such silly thing. In fact, I've insisted he take baths instead of showering for fear he'll injure himself."

They were sitting together on the sofa when I brought the drinks. My first thought was they seemed awfully close to each other but being the courteous host that I am, I didn't mention anything. Handing them the glasses I realized I hadn't made one for myself. Standing awkwardly in front of them, trying to figure out what I should do next, Ron spoke up.

"Donnie, why don't you go fix your hair while Carol and I get to know each other better." He patted her knee when he said her name. I didn't mind the familiarity but when the gentle gesture ended, he kept his hand on her knee. That was enough for me. After all the subtle put-downs, I blew. Just as I was about to tell him to get the hell out of my house I looked into his eyes.

They were so dark and very intense—piercing. He was so big—so strong. Suddenly, I felt my composure slip into a state of immobility. As if hypnotized by his haughty demeanor, I simply nodded, acknowledging his request. As I turned and walked away Carol spoke up.

"Donnie, your brush is in my bathroom," she reminded me.

"Thanks." A few weeks ago, I redecorated the downstairs bathroom to her specifications. The walls were painted in a lovely pink shade, the floor covered in a matching rug, and every nook and cranny was filled with frilly decorations. All in all, the total appearance presented a not-too-subtle feminine aura. To my surprise, doing the chore gave me a pleasant sense of achievement and I enjoyed the entire project.

The walk to the bathroom gave me time to consider the situation. The intrusion of another man, no matter how appealing he was, bothered me. Instead of trying to figure out how to get him out, I couldn't help wondering how his presence would change my life style. If he moved in, when he moved in, what role would he play? What role would I play?

What role would he play with Carol?

Sitting in front of the vanity in the soft, cushioned, fluffy chair helped me relax. It always did. There was something about the warmth and safety of the lovely room that filled me with such a wonderful sense of belonging. Checking out my reflection I could see that Carol must have been toying with my appearance again. She did that a lot, amusing herself especially by styling and playing with my hair. At times she made me feel like a little Barbie doll that she loved to play with.

Strangely, being helpless under her domineering way always caused a stirring deep in my soul and aroused my little guy.

I studied the effect of my hair. The length was longer than I preferred but Carol wanted it that way so naturally, I went along with her decision.

Lately, Carol had been curling it, making it look feminine, too feminine I thought. As I studied the style I noticed that when I cocked my head to the side I almost looked believable as a young woman. Standing before the full-length mirror, I checked my overall appearance. The image, although not quite complete, showed a certain saucy sex appeal. Pirouetting, like a model, I noticed my legs seemed extra clean.

My fingers raced over the nylons. A close examination revealed that my legs were hairless! Shocked, I wondered how Carol managed to shave them without my knowledge. As I fit pieces of dreams together I had to admit they looked nice. My legs curved in a feminine way and looked sort of sexy.

I removed the robe and hung it over the back of the chair, checking my appearance without it. The look was disappointing. Without the feminine garb, the image was ruined.

I glanced around the room. Maybe Carol had something that could help. Tossed in the hamper, waiting for laundry day, was some of Carol's discarded underclothes. On top was a beautiful, black, lacy pair of panties. I found the matching garter belt and bra, along with a very sexy black negligee.

Being an incredible beauty, Carol looked absolutely gorgeous in these naughty clothes, her sex appeal undeniable. Of course, being the decadent voyeur I am, I looked forward to the times she dressed up. There was another reason I looked forward to her dressing up, other than just ogling. Whenever she wore lingerie, sexy lingerie, meant I was allowed to demonstrate my devotion by spending hours with my mouth glued between her legs, a treat both of us cherished.

Over the course of the last few months, we developed a pattern in our lovemaking. Whenever Carol dressed in sexy clothes like these, it meant she wanted my tongue and mouth to spend long hours servicing her needs. She never let me assume the traditional male role while she was wearing sexy lingerie. It had been months since the little guy got to penetrate her delicious pussy. Often, while we were in bed and I was between her lovely legs feasting on her luscious snatch, she would pull the sheet over me as I demonstrated my devotion.

As odd as our lovemaking might have seemed, I didn't mind. Frankly, there was some part of me that got off on pleasing her with my adoring tongue. In fact, it got to the point where sharing her orgasm orally was as satisfying as regular sex.

The only time I could penetrate her was when she was completely naked and then she had to be on top. It didn't matter, I loved her with all my heart and whatever she wanted was fine with me. Being with her was enough, I never objected to anything she wanted. Frankly, I felt honored to be with a beautiful girl like her.

There were times, I admit, when I wondered if she was with me because of my status. Inheriting a large fortune, I had a lot of money. But I was so grateful she was with me that I never dwelled too long on the thought.

Grabbing Carol's panties from the hamper, I ran my fingers across the smooth fabric, relishing the sensation. They felt so luxurious. Almost by magic, they found their way to my nose and I inhaled deeply. To my disappointment, there was no scent except the smell of the fabric. Carol hadn't worn these yet. The precious odor of her womanhood hadn't yet graced this pair. Although the panties were scrumptious, they didn't suit the mood I was in, so I tossed them aside.

Deeper in the hamper was the pair she wore while we played tennis. The plain white cotton panties were still a little damp from her exertions. Once again, I brought them to my nose.

The scent was heavenly. As if having a mind of its own, my tongue sought the crotch. There was a stir in my panties as my little guy roused to attention. The sudden excitement brought a dull pain to my aching balls, but being tightly encased in the nylons helped. The nylons felt so good against my shaved legs. I ran my hand down my thighs, relishing the soft, smooth feel. They felt just like Carol's.

Without considering the consequences, I removed the stockings and slipped on the black panties. A moment later I put the nylons back on. Wearing the panties only enhanced the sensation I felt with the nylons. The combination was heavenly. Not content with the partial dress, I added a bra to the overall appearance. The effect was very disappointing. The way the fabric lay flat against my chest didn't seem right. Pawing through the hamper, I stuffed some of her other panties inside the cups. Admonishing myself that the hamper was very full, I made a mental note to make sure I did the laundry soon. I hadn't realized there were so many dirty clothes.

Once the cups were filled, I looked better. Examining the reflection in the mirror I tried various poses searching for the best angle. Arching my back and holding in my sides to push out my upper chest seemed the naughtiest. With a little dieting, I thought, I could develop some curves and maybe look as good as Carol. Even Ron would see that.

Suddenly I stopped the ridiculous charade. What was I thinking about? How absurd. I'm a man, not some tart trying to seduce the ruggedly handsome man.

Ridding my head of these insane thoughts I glanced over at the negligee. The thought crossed my mind wondering if wearing that piece would complete the look I was trying to achieve. I couldn't wait. Grabbing it I slipped the smooth fabric over my head. Checking my appearance in the mirror, I caught my breath.

There. Now that's perfect, I thought as I scrutinized the image in the mirror. With a little make up I could look just like...

"Donnie?" Carol interrupted my reverie. "What in the world?" she said loudly. "Ron, come in here. You've got to see this! Donnie you look absolutely wonderful." Carol walked over to stand next to me.

Ron entered. When he saw me, a huge grin spread across his face. For some reason I noticed that his Polo shirt was untucked. Also, Carol's hair seemed a bit tousled.

"Donnie, you're simply gorgeous," Ron stated. My face turning bright red, I felt totally humiliated. Here I was, standing in front of my girl and my new roommate in feminine apparel. Before I could offer an explanation, Carol took my hand.

"Come on, Donnie. I'm going to tuck you in. The doctor said you should get plenty of sleep."

"But I have to take you home."

"Don't worry about me getting back. Ron will take me home. By the way, he's going to move in tomorrow. After discussing his needs, we decided that he should use your room. He needs lots of closet space so I promised he could have the master bedroom. You can move your stuff out tomorrow morning. Put everything in my room."

I was still too shocked to respond. She led me by the hand to the guest room. Like her bathroom, it too was furnished in a frilly and feminine motif. Guiding me to the bed, I slid under the silk sheets. After she tucked me in she kissed me on the cheek. With her lips next to my ear, she whispered.

"If you dress up like this tomorrow night I'll give you your favorite treat." We both knew what that meant. My reaction was immediate and I felt a bulge grow in my panties. She noticed the slight rise in the blanket and grabbed my arm.

"Don't waste it tonight. You know it's better if you wait. Besides you're ruining all of my panties with that icky gook."

She turned to leave then mentioned, "I'm taking the credit cards. We're going to need a lot more clothes for the both if us now." She gave me a real knowing look followed by a wink before leaving.

She did give me one last image, one that is etched in my mind. Before she left, I got to watch that gorgeous derriere of hers wiggle very seductively out of the room.

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bycolleenslittletoy© 10 comments/ 134114 views/ 71 favorites

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