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Angelus's Journal


Angelus's Journal

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5 entries this month
 

Woodside

19:54 Mar 27 2007
Times Read: 1,173


Woodside





Directly across the River Mersey from the Albert Dock, Liverpool, is the Woodside Ferry.

As one leaves the Ferry terminal itself one finds oneself at the Woodside Bus terminus.

Still walking up, to the left there is a short tram line; whilst ahead sits the Woodside Hotel;

and, to its left, ‘Rinty’s,’ the pub and live music venue.



Following the one way road, around what is a large roundabout, one continues round, till there are a series of three or four bright yellow and glass bus shelters to the left, behind which is a small one way approach slip-road, on which are several old buildings; then some waste ground and some more red stone Victorian buildings of a similar age, currently being renovated.

After five hundred yards or so these lead to the main junction, to the left of which is Hamilton Square Station, the right leading back down to the river.

Behind the bus-shelter’s and to the left of the waste ground, with its access to the slip-road blocked off by several concrete bollards, so taxis cannot park there – is the building where our office is located.

I’m down the stairs, in a cellar, next door to the main office, in a perspex box and currently it’s all under renovation; although, at present there is a t.v. and video for me to use.



From where I sit I’d seen some fares at the top of the stairs.

I’d gone to ask them, with clipboard, where they were going and then dashed down the stairs, to the radio set and ordered down their taxis.

“How long will it be ?” I had been asked when I had returned to the head of the stairs, to tell the two customers that their taxis were on their way.

“I’ll get you a time,” says I, returning to the set.

(I was anxious to get a good time quoted, as one of the fares was a distance, or ‘good’ job for a driver and I didn’t want a ‘walk-off,’ where we lose a fare, when they’re not prepared to wait the time given.)

Being given an answer, I had run toward the stairs leading upward and the waiting customers.

I had run toward the stairs and straight into the heavy wood lintel framing the door.



I had fallen to one knee and then … held onto the floor, just to make sure that it wouldn’t go away. Then I’d blanked out, for either a second, or thirty … I’m not sure.

But, I do know that I held onto the rails going up the stairs, every time after that, believe me.







* * *





21/08/1999


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Eurovision Night

19:27 Mar 27 2007
Times Read: 1,177


As this deal with a relationship and events therein, there is some adult content.





Eurovision Night



Val was my lady, twenty-six, half-Venezuelan, petite and to paraphrase a friend, ‘stunningly gorgeous.'

We had net at an assertiveness class, through which we had got to know one another.

Yet, the thing was, I had considered Val so gorgeous that I had doubted that I stood a chance with her. As it was, it had been she who had asked me out, a then, thirty-four year old twice bitten cynic. She was a Tantric Buddhist - not the archetypical image of the physical, as defined by the media, but more, much more … and over the past two years I had learnt that I, as her partner, benefited greatly from her beliefs and knowledge.

Val believed that anything a couple consent to do with each other is okay, as long as it is between them; and that mutual sex is best when lovemaking is dedicated to ones partner; multiple male orgasm is possible; and that foreplay must never be ignored.

Indeed foreplay can be just as mutually satisfying for a couple as active penetrative sex.

But, I digress. I am lucky, that after a series of misfortunes in my life, my parents gave me succour and I am now living in a room in their bungalow.

That said, life with not too difficult though, far my parents afford Val and I a great deal of respect and much needed privacy; as when Val visits, we are uninhibited as it is possible for a couple to be ...

I had cooked well for both, a treat I enjoy when my parents go for their Saturday lunch-time meal out... and after our repast and a walk round the block, on a pleasant sunny day, we had decided to go to my room, for cuddles.

Val had removed her blouse, then her dainty, black, lace-up ankle-length boots, whilst I had undressed completely and then I’d pulled back the duvet and covered us both either it.

Val had worn an old 'Goth'- type skirt, with black lace n' beads trim, a white cotton slip, thin dark-tan stockings and white suspender belt. Over her beautiful upthrust breasts, Val wore a light apricot coloured chemise top.

And my-oh-my, Val looked absolutely lovely as she lay there, expectant,

Then, as I had run my fingers over her white cotton, panty-clad pubis area, I had been berated with, “Where’s the forelay nowadays?”

‘Ah,’ I had thought. ‘point taken.’

So, doing my best to ignore my raging hard on I had begun at my lovers exquisite neck, kissing an biting gently in the manner knew would please my partner, kissing.

I had then begun my journey downwards, kissing at her nipples, and licking at the underswell of her perfect breasts.

My erect penis pressed against Val’s slender, shapely, stocking-clad legs, I had made to kiss her inner thighs. Then her panties deftly removed I had kissed at the shaven folds of my darlings flesh, reveling in the taste and savouring the now of the moment. My tongue had traced the contours of my lovers vagina, my body pressed against hers, well aware of the growing passion, evidenced her increased lubrication.

Her legs had parted a little, in invitation, but I had continued my oral attentions, as I’d uncovered her clitoris from its fleshy hood, with the tip of my questing tongue. I had swirled that little nubbin of flesh, flicking at it occasionally, very aware of the nylon of her stockings and the pleasurable sensations this gave my throbbing self.



As Val had climaxed, her eyes opened wide, until they showed all white and a soft, almost inaudible sigh escaped iron her lips.

She had pulled me to her, almost dragging me up the bed and toward herself, saying, “Come on, now …”

I had entered my lovers willing body, with an almost electric charge running through me, such was my desire at that moment.

So it was, that with only a few thrusts into her, I had found myself rising toward my point of no return. I knew I could not wait and I came my seed, as my licentious wench entered a finger into my tight ass-hole ... Then, my body racked by a powerful orgasm I had taken Vat into my arms, to hold her, loving her, for the pleasure we had shared.

I had dressed and made us a drink, then returned to my room to find Val naked, awaiting my return.

We had drunk tea, cuddled and watched television awhile, just enjoying the closeness of one another. And, as we had lain together, I had lit the inevitable cigarette and then, breathing in the acrid smoke, I had looked from Val’s shoulders to her hips, as she had lain on her right, facing me. Then, as I had stared at the lines of my lover’s body I had felt an ecstatic tension in my gut, as my eyes had drunk in her beauty.

In the background, Kate Bush sang, as I pulled the duvet down a little from Val’s body and her shaven haven was mine to view.

The soft music had been turned up a little, for I had learnt that Val could be very vocal when pleased and I’d wanted to please her, but not disturb my parents in the next room, with too much overt noise.

"Honey ... I want you,” I had murmured, slowly inching down the bed, so as to once more taste my lover … But, as she had neared her peak and I had risen on cry arms, to enter her, Val had grasped my shoulders and turned me fully onto my belly. Her tongue had found my anal ring and I had turned to watch; as Val lubricated my anus with saliva, then sat: astride my thighs and entered me, with first one, then two fingers, a look of lascivious delight on her face.

Slowly Val had fucked me, loving her possession of my ass and me, a look of almost intense determination on her face as she screwed me. Pleasure and sweet pain mingled, as Val bit into my left shoulder and I had found myself thinking, 'this is exquisite.'

I had begged Vat to let me rest and this she had allowed. Then we had held one another and cuddled awhile until I had slowly risen from the bed on rubbery legs, fatigued as I was from such passionate love-making.

"I’ve got to go ... ' I had said, making for the bedroom door then, as I had remembered previous games played, I had continued, a smile on my face, "and even you couldn’t take all I’ve got in here…” placing my open right hand over my distended bladder.

But, Val had sat there, looking at me, her eyes speaking of mischievous bedevilment and lascivious intent.

My heart racing at what she had wordlessly assented to, I had passed Val my robe from the back of the bedroom door. My parents were in the living-roam and Val and I were going to the bathroom together,' the prospect had pleased me greatly.

Val had followed me quickly as I entered the bathroom naked, after which I had locked the door hurriedly.

Then once inside, I had walked across to the toilet and standing before it I’d lifted the lid and seat.

Val had knelt on my left, her body quite close to the pedestal; she had pulled my robe away from my shoulders, leaving them and the upper part of her exquisitely pert breasts naked: and, looking up at me, with her beautiful eyes, Val had taken my semi-erect cock gently in her right hand and held it toward her luscious open lips.

As I had relaxed my bladder, Val had endeavored to take all I had to offer.

I had put out my right hand to steady myself, as in a rapture of ecstasy; I had felt quite weak to my knees. And though Val had drunk avidly, it had become obvious to rne that she could take no more. So as she had finished swallowing my water I had redirected the rest of my flow to the bowl before me.

An act of love between two people, made all the more sweet for me as once I had finished, Val had amost reverently licked my shaft with her tongue, taken the crown of my circumcised penis into her soft moist mouth and enveloped me. Then gripping my buttocks, Val had pulled me to her, taking al of my now flaccid penis into her mouth, sucking me softly, passionately.

I had helped my lover to stand and we had kissed, long and hard, our lips locked together, fuelled by what we had shared. Then, a little while later, back in bed cuddling, Val and I had lain, warmed by the duvet and the closeness of our bodies, just watching television; and, The Eurovision Song Contest was on.

And, sated an satisfied, we had left it on …





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the old house

11:31 Mar 27 2007
Times Read: 1,178


James stood in the hallway and closed the front door. Outside it was sunny, while inside it was dark, gloomy and foreboding. He closed his eyes for a second, before looking to his younger self, walking up the stairs, hand upon the balustrade.

He had sworn not to return here again, having left many years earlier. Yet here he was once again. James opened his eyes and decided to follow, as he had once chased that first kiss. His life had been spent full of brooding angst, looking back on the self-destruction of his life, avoiding the move.

As he toured the second floor James recalls the brooding type she had been drawn to, who no longer existed and he felt hollow, as he tried first one door, then another.

With cautious steps he warily trod through the miasma of memory.

Many of the doors were locked, yet one opened to a dust strewn room, full of detritus which he walked through, to look out of grime covered windows: and, James drew his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped through the dirt, to stare out at the sunny day outside.


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Bring and Buy

15:53 Mar 26 2007
Times Read: 1,185




This contains some adult material.

Don't read on, if you're too easily offended.



*





John Blair was slim, in his late twenties, he found office-work boring; yet, it was what he did and as he liked the money, John did it well.

It began when he went to the to the school fair with his wife, 'for the little-one.' He'd found himself standing by a charity bring and buy stall.



A man was running the stall in his early sixties, who reminded John, ever-so-much, of an Edwardian gentleman, in his dress, demeanour and whiskers.

Grey hair and moustachioed with broad whiskers, the man had a twinkle in his eyes that was apparent to John from the first moment he saw them.

"He always comes, does 'The Major' said one member of The Women's Guild to another, cup of tea in hand.

"He's here every year, always with nice pretty things. A boon to the school coffers, the man..."



For some inexplicable reason, John found himself leaving his wife's side, drawn to 'The Majors' stall and the promise of 'pretty things.'

He walked toward the stall, one man amongst all those women, all-vying for bargains.

'The Major' eyed him, amused.



Finally he got through the ladies, where the table stood, piled with underwear, of all colours. The stall had John's interest.

John saw two things which caught his eyes: a nylon slip and a pair of nylon panties; both purple and edged with a lace trim.

He slid his right arm between two big women, just to feel the material of the lingerie.

Suddenly a tug on his arm and 'The Major' drew him aside.

"For you wife?" He enquired, taking the carpets and folding them carefully, before putting them into a brown paper bag, which he folded down at the end.

"Or for you?" He asked, holding the bag toward John Robbins.



John felt like a rabbit caught in cars headlights at night: aroused, guilty and a little humiliated.

He'd shown an interest in something different and, could imagine himself wearing the slip and the panties.

But, John felt his fantasies were already known, his dreams of wearing these things etched on his face.

He blushed, sure the man could notice his arousal; the growing erection in his trousers.

"That'll be forty five pence?" He explained, holding out his right hand, the bag now in his left.



John rummaged in his pocket and brought out a handful of loose change.

Counting out the requested amount, he handed it over, expectant of his precious items.

Instead of the bag, 'The Major' drew a card from his jackets top pocket, which has passed to John.

On one side it said:

James R. Burrows esq;

- Captain (retired)



it said on one side, with the mans full address and telephone number on the other side.

"Look on the other side," he instructed.

John did as the man bid and saw a phone number.

"What's you name?" 'The Major' enquired, as John looked at the number.

"John." He replied, nervously.

"Well John," the older man said to him, "you phone me later and you call round for these and you can wear them, for me."



At that very moment John heard Cecile call his name and he turned away from 'The Major' to let her know where he was.

"Don't forget to phone," he heard 'The Major' say behind him as he took hold of his wife's elbow.

Cecile smiled, expressed her surprise with a gasp, then drew John toward a cake stall at the end of the row.

"You must see this," his wife told him, her brown eyes alight with pleasure as she pointed to a pineapple upside down cake.

"It's just like my mother used to make." She said to John, who still felt distracted by his knowledge of the card in his trouser pocket with his change.

'Will I phone?' He mused, as Cecile enthused over her mothers cooking.

"You buy it hun," John told her distantly, aware of her question as to whether she should and simply wanting to walk away from the recent memories of his private desire, exposed so fully before another.

"Alright I will," she responded, smiling brightly.



John turned his head; to look back at 'The Major' knowing as he did that the man would be looking toward him smiling. He was.

"I've got it," Cecile told him.

"Okay then, let's go." John snapped, anxious to get home and the comfort of his study: he needed to think.

"But, I wanted to see the book stall," his wife responded, with defiance.

"Okay, you do so, I've got work to do, okay?" He kissed Cecile chastely.

"I'll see you later then," she mouthed softly as he turned quickly and walked away into the crowds, toward the exit.

Cecile knew that once he was in his office John wouldn't be disturbed, by anyone.

"Ah well, I'll enjoy my time here then!" And, she returned to the throng, intent in seeing what else she might find of interest.



Just short while later, John Blair sat at home in his small office at the back of the house. He sat with his thighs crossed, before the pc, having already keyed in a Google search on lingerie, with the results to be brought in image form.



In less than a second there were a multiplicity of images for him to look at and fire his imagination still further. There were seemingly hundreds of pages of thumbnails, each a link to the temptation toward making the phone-call. And as he stared at the imagery John drank at his second double scotch.

Almost an hour later he came to a page called 'men wearing panties club' and John felt relieved. Of course he'd heard of men who enjoyed wearing women's lingerie; but here was an entire site devoted to the subject.



And John read on avidly: pleased to know he was by no means alone in his interest.

Rather, there were many more with his interest than he thought as the text and photographs illustrated.

And as he looked at one young man, with a slim body like his, John found himself fascinated with the photo and the light blue French knickers he wore.

John couldn't help but picture himself wearing them.



There it was, he acknowledged, he was tempted, seriously tempted, to make the phone-call: and, wear those clothes, in front of 'The Major' as he'd heard the older man being called.

But, John had never been with a man before: after all, he was straight - he kept reminding himself later that evening, as Cecile and he ate tea.

He was picking at a potato with his fork when she asked him what wrong.

Cecile had repeated the question as he lay in bed, watching her undress.

"Nothing," he replied, wondering momentarily how the taut purple panties felt on her buttock flesh. And, then 'on his?'



His wife was beautiful: half-Latino and fiery, passionate, yet loving.

Yet all John could think of as she undressed was his growing obsession, to dress for another man, in women's underwear.



As Cecile got into bed with him, she had assumed, wrongly that his arousal was due to seeing her naked, save for the panties, he asked her to keep on.

She had smiled at this and did as requested.



And, he didn't repel his wife's advances, as she ran a gentle hand across his shoulder and he turned toward her, to embrace her before sharing a long-lingering kiss, as his hands cupped her pert buttocks, pulling her closer toward him.

As the kiss continued she said to him:

"I can feel your arousal?"



She could feel his hardness against her belly.

"Can you feel mine?" She asked him in turn, taking his right hand and guiding it between her legs... where he found her silk panties wet, hot; and Cecile moved her lips to his shoulder as he cupped her mound with his hand.



As he rubbed her through the damp silk, she bit at his shoulder... and smiled as he moaned.

"I think of this often John!" She told him, moving a hand around to the front and cupping his chin. She lifted his face upward, and trailing her lips down the front of his neck... stroked his chest, where she kissed.

As her hand held his, Cecile felt him move her silk panties aside as he knelt between her legs; parting her panties aside at the crotch.



He leant forward... and began to lap at her closed folds, opening them with his tongue. And Cecile opened easily with his oral caress, as he inhaled her musky charms... licking softly, tonguing deeply... searching, seeking to arouse her further... and then... he began to tease her clitoris... with little flicks of the tip of his tongue, moistening her further... taking pleasure in her sigh's, as her hand holding his tightened its grip a little.



Moaning, she grabbed a handful of his hair.

"John.." She sighed, watching as he lapped at her... the scent a musky sweet.

She opened her legs a little, moaning as his tongue slid deep into her hot wetness...



Cecile breathed deeply as she came close to her climax, as her legs trembled he held her thighs and continued his ministrations, as he endeavoured to bring her to orgasm.

"Ahhhh..." She groaned, to his pleasure, as she became quite limp and still he continued to lap at her open sex, sweet liquid coating the lower half of my face...



Finally John sat back onto his haunches, as her breathing slowed a little.

"Turn over," He told her... "I want you from behind..."

Feigning submission, a moment, she turned and bent over the bed... and he couldn't help but smile, at the sight.

Cecile looked over her right shoulder to see him smile, his chin coated with her juices. She felt him move between her legs, and turned back to face forward.



His hand went to the centre of her back and he pushed her down on the bed. "Stay hun. I am going to..."



Kneeling behind her, John parted her folds, easing his hard self into her velvety warmth. And, holding her hips, he began to ease very slowly, in and out...

And, he leant forward, to kiss her back, caressing her flesh... and he pumped in and out, increasing his speed...

"Ah man," He murmurs, "I don't want this to end..."



Cecile's hands dug into the duvet, and she started to moan as he filled her...

She heard his words, and felt his lips, his hands and Cecile threw her head back and screamed... her inner walls tightening around him and wet heat flowed out of her, as he slid into her softly...

"I don't want it to end either.. " She sighed, pushing back with her hips as her body enjoyed his..



John's pace increased, as did his breathing.

He was near climax, he knew it... and, with sweat dripping from his forehead he thrust harder, deeper, as he tried to get further into her... into her.

John wanted to satisfy his wife... but, he wanted to cum... and, continued to pump his hips, driving his length back and forth...

Her hands slammed down on the bed as she shoved her hips back as he increased his pace. She knew he was close, and screamed as his hard cock slammed deeper into her. Reaching climax, she reached back to slap his ass..

"Come John!" She ordered.



He hardly needed to be told. But, managed to hold off though a while, just awhile longer ...as he stilled his movements, just to enjoy being deep inside her... deep inside her welcoming cunt... and she groaned, arching her back, thrusting herself back to him.



He held her hips tight... tighter, as his climax began, spreading outward, as he shot his seed within... becoming such much more than a climax, such was its intensity and he was awed by it all ~ and the encompassing powerful orgasm...

"Oh... this is ... goood," he cried aloud.



He grasped her buttocks clasped in his hands, the purple satin saturated.

He held her tight with his left arm; whilst with his free hand he caressed her perspiration shining body.

John listened to her panting as she sought breath and he smiled, saying to her ~

"I do hope it'll be this good again?"



And, he rested his head, just a moment, on his wife's soft buttocks, caressing her satin panties: and then John was asleep.



He awoke to the sound of Cecile singing: naked.

She had taken off the purple pants he had s liked, on her.

Briefly he wondered whether to ask, yet quickly realised how foolish that would sound.



"Oh, you're awake," she expressed with surprise, as Cecile turned and realised her husbands eyes were open, as he watched her touching herself, her tender self, as she was after last night.



"Yes," He replied smiling: they would be in the laundry basket. Of course!

John wondered.

"Hun, would you get me a coffee? If you don't mind? I'm a little tired after last night."

"Yes, last night. I'm not surprised you're tired still." Cecile told him and laughed, as she slipped on a robe.

"And, I'll check on your daughter on the way downstairs," she added as she left the room: and John sat up, briefly wondering why Lucy was always his daughter when Cecile was doing something with her.



He stood and walked toward the bathroom and headed straight for the laundry basket, where his prize awaited: the satin purple pants heavily encrusted with their combined juices after last night.

He brought them to his nose and smelt, her: and him.

They smelt divine.



'Cecile,' he thought quickly, putting the pants back where he'd found them and returning to bed, just in time for her entrance, with his coffee.

"Thanks babe," he said, smiling.



So it was he began his day of indecision, as he later named it, in a web-blog:



He went through the normal routine of seeing Lucy to nursery, whilst Cecile went to work at the hospital were she spent far too many hours at reception for his liking; then he went home, ostensibly to do the housework and prepare the evening meal.



Instead, John returned to his PC and his growing obsession with lingerie and the idea of wearing it, to feel like a woman!

He stayed at the computer, only leaving it to pick up Lucy and return to cook the evening meal. And, even as he stirred the spaghetti, John realized the obvious: he was going to phone! He had to.



So, setting his nerves aside, he picked up his mobile and dialled the phone number on the card he'd been given.

"Hello? Who is it?" He heard a man asking, the curiosity evident in his voice.

"Erm, it's the young guy you're holding some clothing for.." he responded.

"And you are?"

"John."



"Well John, I suppose you rang as you want to try on your.. frillies. Did you?"

"Erm, yes.." John answered quietly, having decided to go through with this and see if the reality of the experience would match the fantasy.

"Well when are you free?" 'The Major' enquired.

"This evening, if that's okay?" John answered quickly, anxious to try on those items, in the presence of another, who actually wanted to see him dressed 'en femme.'

After all, he'd read so much: now was his chance to taste a little of what he'd read of.

"I'll see you at nine then," 'The Major' instructed curtly, before setting the phone down.

'Nine,' John thought, nervously: that was only a few short hours away.

Then two hours later, he sat in a cab, on the way to the address on the card, having told Cecile he was going out with a few of his mates, on a stag-night and he didn't know what time he'd be back.

He didn't go out that often, so she'd just smiled and said, "Enjoy."

John had smiled in return and told her, "I'm sure I will."



And, he had thought of his wife, as he stood outside the address on the card.

But desire had caught him in a web, which he had to investigate further: he had to.



John rang the doorbell, tremulous with anticipation, yet curiosity held him rooted to the spot, as the door opened and 'The Major' stood before him, smiling.



Grey hair and moustachioed with broad whiskers, the twinkle in his eyes was more apparent than the last time John had seen him.

"Do come in," he said to John ushering him inside.



Burrows encouraged the young man to come sit with him on the sofa.

John sat, as instructed, very aware of this confident man, sitting so close to him.



"A drink?" Burrows asked, after several awkward moments of silence passed.



"Please?" John said, in response.



The drink of scotch, straight, was generously and quickly poured and passed to him.



And they drank one glass, after another, as Burrows sat smiling gently: he was pleased the young man had behaved just as he had expected he would.



"You came to wear something, for you and me, didn't you?" He asked.



"Yes," John replied dry mouthed, conscious of the hand on this left thigh, squeezing firmly, to emphasise the question.



"So here, this is what you wanted." He was told as he was passed two brown paper bags.

John looked inside: there was the slip and panties, carefully folded, waiting for him to try on.

He next looked in the other bag.



Inside was a pair of black self-support stockings and a lipstick - vivid scarlet.

"I think they'll go with what you'll be wearing. Don't you?" he enquired, smiling.

"Now upstairs," he instructed. "Go get changed, for you and I!"



In the bathroom John undressed hurriedly.

He sat, staring at his knees, wondering if he could go through with it.

The toilet seat was cold on his bare bottom, but his shivers were mostly due to nervous apprehension of what lay ahead.



He had carefully removed the clothing from the bag and laid them over the edge of the bath, to look at them, before he changed.



Then, John pulled on the purple nylon panties.

He chose to wear them backwards, taut material covering his genitals, the crotch pulled tight, cleaving between his buttocks.



Next he picked up the slip. John lifted the full-slip up over his head and slid the slip over his arms and head, adjusting the straps on his shoulders, so it fell properly, then smoothed the bottom skirt over his hips and legs.



He stared at his reflection in the mirror over the sink, and caressed his nylon-covered chest, enjoying the sensation of the material on his flesh, particularly his nipples, as he brushed over them.

Then I lifted up the slip to see the panties: his arousal was evident by the bulge in them.

'Oh they are so-sexy,' he thought.



Finally John was dressed in the slip and panties and wearing the lipstick, which he's applied easily enough, after watching Cecile do so.

The stockings were difficult though.



John was ready, his heart beating hard: he wasn't a woman really, but he wanted to feel like one tonight.

And, with these thoughts, John left the bathroom bedroom and walked across the landing and down the stairs, stocking clad feet on the carpeted stairs.

The door to the living room was closed. His hand hovered over the door handle. With mock bravado he pushed the door open and walked in.



'The Major' was sitting, looking at him benign kindness. He looked around, then he stood and smiled.



"A drink?" He asked.



"Please?" John responded, shyly, feeling very self-conscious.



The drink, a whiskey, was generously and quickly poured and passed to me.



John watched as this lovely greying man couldn't keep his eyes off him and felt so-special.



"Well" John said in a soft voice, hands on hips, stocking tops showing, "Do I look nice?"



'The Major' giggled and walked toward him, took his hand and guided him to the middle of the room where they stood on a thick deep white carpet. He took John's now emptied glass from him me and placed it on a table.



His hand slipped around John's waist and he pulled him insistently towards him.

His other hand was on the back of his head and he pulled John's face towards his. Suddenly his lips were on his and a man was kissing John for the first time; a tongue pushed between his lips and played in his mouth, rolling around his tongue and thrusting deep into his throat as 'The Major' grasped his buttocks.



Suddenly his hand moved and was pushing the slip up, feeling the flesh at the top of the stocking tops, and his panties. His hand rubbed Johns cock harshly as he groaned and the tongue invaded his mouth further still.



He grabbed John's hand and pushed it against his trousers, so he could feel the hardening cock.



"Oh you sexy girly" he murmured releasing John's lips. "You sexy, sexy girly."



His hands played through his hair; touched his cheeks; and finger played with his lips as lustful eyes looked downward.

Then his hands moved to the young man's shoulders and he was pushing John to his knees.

He went without a struggle, as he was enjoying all this far too much to give any type of resistance.



"You little sissy girl; my sissy girl, come over here and suck my cock. Down on all fours now and do it!" 'The Major' commanded.

John didn't know what to do, and then recalled his decision to go with the low and see what happened. This was what was happening...



Getting down on all fours, like he had been ordered to, John started to crawl over to where he was standing. Bringing myself up onto his knees he started to undo 'The Majors' trousers, and let them fall to his knees.

Next he slid both his thumbs and forefingers in the sides of his underpants and slowly pulled them down to join his trousers.

Taking hold of the base of his cock with his right hand he started to ease the skin up and down. Slowly but surely, it started to get hard, and when John thought it was hard enough, into his mouth it went.

He was startled at the fact that he'd done so, so easily.

Yet, he had: he was a cocksucker. And, he liked it.

John moved his head back and forth: and the cock started to get even harder.

"That's a good girl," 'The Major' murmured, taking hold of either side of his head.

Faster and faster he moved Johns head back and forth at the same time, using his face and mouth as if he were a fuck-doll.



Then he started to feel him pushing harder and harder, as his thighs tensed; and his breathing became ragged; and John knew he was about to come.

But he did not stop sucking. John wanted him to come in his mouth and it wasn't long before he did. He shot his load straight down his throat. Hot and sticky spunk was running down his chin, but still he never let 'The Majors' cock out of his mouth. He wanted it all, and was going to.



Sucking harder and harder he could feel himself getting every drop of spunk out of his cock and into himself. Finally John relaxed his grip and licked the remaining spunk that had escaped onto my chin.



"You really enjoyed that. Didn't you?" 'The Major' said, with a smile, as he looked down, at the blushing young man at his feet, with a look of satisfaction on his face.

"I think it's time you learnt who what its like to really be my woman now." He said, as he zipped himself back into his trousers.





The tension, submission and the oral sex had gotten John's cock fully erect and throbbing for release!

But, he knew that he was dressed for his need and 'The Majors' satisfaction.

If the older man wanted more, then he would do whatever he wanted.



So, he followed obediently as 'The Major' led him upstairs, to his bedroom.



John's legs felt weak and shaky as they climbed the stairs, his heart racing as they neared the room. An electric shock ran through his body when the older man closed the door behind them, with the realization that all they had done was nothing, compared with what was to follow.

They stood and looked at one another, each filled with expectant need.



James Burrows caressed the young mans face with his left hand.



With his right hand he gently ran his hands over Johns nylon-clad legs, to his delight and embarrassment.



"Kiss me, like your wife kisses you," Burrows told him.



And John blushed; at the mention of his wife; and the need, to quietly acquiesce to anything this man might want of him.



He stepped closer, and wrapped his arms round 'The Majors' neck.

Suddenly they were face-to-face and less than an inch apart.

Pressing his lips against the older mans hesitantly at first, John thrilled with the contact, his erection threatening to burst though the nylon panties that he wore.



John took his face in his hands and kissed him. Burrows then took control, with his tongue invading John's mouth and he melted into his arms.

He leaned onto his shoulder and watched the action in the mirrors as

Burrows started to slowly and surely seduce him.



He started by tracing little circles on his stocking-clad thigh. His touch an electric shock to the young man, who sighed with pleasure. He was giving into him more and more.

John started to nuzzle his neck as the circles on his thigh moved higher.



As the kiss continued and 'The Major' held John tightly, he slid his right hand upward, over the young mans naked flesh.

He took possession of the young mans mouth with an avaricious tongue; and, John melted in his arms.



Fingers slid under the panties, bunching up the slip; and two saliva-moistened finger-tips teased open John's sphincter: and, he moaned with pleasure, his lips busy as he kissed 'The Majors' neck.



John squirmed in Burrows embrace, pushing his buttocks back, at the intrusion past his tight muscles.



"Relax your hole, my cunt. It won't hurt as much, alright?" 'The major' suggested.



John groaned, relaxing his sphincter muscles and smiled, as discomfort became pleasure, as he was taken, anally: and, slowly Burrows began to finger-fuck him.



The left hand left his back, to caress his body, gliding over the nylon slip; and Burrows brushed the palm of his hand over John's erect nipples, causing the young man to sigh with pleasure.



Briefly John looked at their mirrored image, as fingers pistoned in and out of his warm receptive hole, as a thumb and forefinger tightened its grip on his nipple.



He wanted to watch some more. But, John couldn't help but close his eyes - as he gave his body away to 'The Major', to use and abuse, as he might want.



He was 'The Majors' cunt: a hole to be filled, nothing more.



Then suddenly John found himself thrown to the bed.

"Stay face down!" Burrows ordered, taking pleasure in undressing slowly, as he stared with lustful eyes at the young mans nylon clad legs and lingerie he'd worn over his slim young body.



The slip has risen high, to expose John's pert buttocks and Burrows couldn't help but smile. He was pleased he'd taken that diamond shaped little blue-pill earlier, as it was obvious to him that John wanted to be fucked, almost as much as he wanted to fuck him.



Finally naked, Burrows lay to Johns left, watching the young man tremble a little.



'He wants it,' Burrows told himself, lubing his hands and erection, deciding there and then, that if he were good he might just share him with friends.

'Why not?' He thought, bringing his right leg over John's legs, enjoying the sensation of the stockings brushing against his flesh.



Suddenly, John felt violated, as three fingers were thrust into him, as if searching deep inside. He found satisfaction, as his hole was filled - he was cunt: just another man's hole, waiting to be filled.



He could feel Burrows arousal, hard against his left upper thigh.

John was trembling still, as the older man caressed his panty-clad buttocks.



"Calm down honey. You're too tense," He murmured: "I want you to enjoy this as well. So relax..." Burrows soothed softly.



John turned his head away from 'The Major', to look over his shoulder at the wardrobe mirrors.



The young man was thrilled to see 'The Majors' leg straddling him, his cock hard with desire, just visible, as he lay there dressed in women's lingerie, a submissive-toy, a cunt.



And John laid his head back on the pillow, his breathing a little slower, as he he took delight in the situation.



"That's it, relax," Burrows whispered to his ear, as he ran his right hand up John's legs, parting them gently.



John sighed with unrestrained pleasure, at the older mans touch, eager to learn more of the pleasure they would share.



And, 'The Major' moved, to crouch over John, one hand on his upper back, two lube-slick fingers back at his hole.



They slipped in, opening him easily and John groaned with pleasure, as Burrows began to slide them in and out.



Then momentarily, Burrows drew his fingers out, smiling as John murmured to him:

"Please, don't stop."



And, in answer, he thrust three fingers into John, hard and fast.



John's toes curled; and, he opened his eyes, his mouth open, no words emitted.

He was being finger-fucked, as he used to enjoy with girls when he was younger: and, John's mind whirled, at the idea of it.



He was a man, lying there, dressed in lingerie, his body given to another: and John relaxed, again - as those three fingers piston in and out of his rectum.

"Oh yes..." he hissed, eyes closed again, "don't stop."



He was begging for his fucking: bringing pleasure to Burrows ears, who knew that at this moment he could do anything he chose - and John would willingly acquiesce.



'This is so-perfect,' he mused, withdrawing his fingers again, a wide smile on his face.

"Turn over," he instructed sternly, slapping the young man's left buttock.



John rolled over, and then smiled himself, somewhat bashfully; as Burrows slid the panties over hips and down his nylon-clad legs.



"Now come here," the older man encouraged, drawing John to his arms, kissing him, caressing his body, and teasing his nipples.



"Raise your legs and spread them..." Burrows instructed, "It's time for us to fuck, my sissy-girl."



Spreading his legs, John lay nervous waiting what he knew was to happen, as 'The Major' then climbed between his legs, pleased with how rapidly the he responded to orders.



Supporting his upper body with strong arms, Burrows put the young mans feet onto his shoulders and leant forward.

This made Johns arse stick in the air, so the older man had perfect access, as he manoeuvred his cock toward the young mans tight anus.



'This is it,' John thought, 'He's going to take me, now.'

Slowly Burrows rubbed his aroused hard cock up against his arse hole, slowly up and down, then all of a sudden, in it went.

'Fuck did that hurt,' the young man thought, letting out a scream that encouraged Burrows and made him push it in even harder.



Deeper and deeper he pushed and it was not long before the pain eased, to be replaced by pleasure.

Once John got used to the length filling him, it really was quite enjoyable.



"You like it? Don't you bitch?" 'The Major' grunted, gathering speed as he went in and out the warm receptive hole.

"I like it, I like it." John groaned in response, "Fuck me, and fuck me harder."



John could feel the older man's legs tremble, as his pleasure mounted.



Then Burrows paused a moment to regain his breath.

He grasped hold of John's thighs and pushed his legs till the young mans knees were by his ears: and then, he slid back home, deep and fast.



"Wow, you are so tight," 'The Major complimented, "it feels so good." Burrows thrust forward, entering deep; and a fiery blast of pain wracked Johns body and throughout his nervous system.



As pain thrashed through John, Burrows began pumping faster and

faster. Each time his cock passed through his tender sphincter muscles John winced and moaned as a searing fire of agony engulfed him.

But Burrows interpreted these cries as evidence of his ecstasy, and he kissed his neck, teasing his hard nipples, hard.



John's eyes glazed over: as he realized, he really liked being fucked, like this.



John's lips opened, spittle forming, as he wrapped his stocking-clad legs round Burrows lower back. He wanted this and more: and began to lift his hips, to encourage his lover, as he thrust into him.

'His lover,' John squirmed inside at the idea of being a lover and sissy cunt, to Burrows, 'The Major.'



His own erection lay hard between them caught in the friction of their writhing bodies, exciting him further.



Briefly, John recalled that 'The Major' calling him a sissy.

He did like the idea.

And in that brief moment, he pictured himself dressed en femme, on all fours, ready to be a sissy-whore, for 'The Major' and anyone else who might want him, as he did. 'A sissy-whore,' he liked that.



John was being properly fucked - delighting in this older man's possession of his body; hole and cunt.



"I'm gonna cum," he cried out suddenly, as he throbbed spasmodically, and then collapsed on top of John, breathless from his exertion.



As 'The Major' slumped down on him John released his ankle-grip and lay exhausted legs down on the duvet, beneath the tired, older man.



He too had cum, although it'd had been as he'd been used and hadn't been noticed, unimportant as it had seemed then.



Now, his pool of cum seemed to hold them together, as John kissed 'The Major' tenderly, as he tried to show him his gratitude for all they had shared together.

"Thank you ..Sir," he murmured in the older man's left ear.

And, Burrows smiled.

'He had been right. He had been a good girl.'





The next day he sat bleary-eyed before his PC, the events of the previous night filling his every thought.

The bisexual aspects bothered him a lot since he had always been straight.



Only the fact that he had felt coerced by mutual need into acts previously repugnant to him, made it all somewhat bearable.



Even now, hours later, the very idea of all he had done sent a wave of submissive pleasure over John Blair and he began to harden, restrained within the panties he still wore.



He had learnt that he revelled in the feel of wearing panties, worn beneath the full-length nylon slip: in fact, he had found the whole encounter most liberating.



And, so it was he began his 'diary of a secret TV' web-blog, to explain in words, for himself, just how good he found it, wearing what he did.

COMMENTS

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Last Word

10:53 Mar 13 2007
Times Read: 1,209


Michael Shaw was tired – not just physically, but also emotionally tired.

Drawn out. Exhausted.

And, everyone in his office knew it.

They saw the look of fatigue on face, every morning.

Yet there were no whispers behind his back – they felt sorry for him.

He would sit at his workstation, staring at the monitor, eyes almost closed.

Then the phone would ring and Michael would abruptly sit up, seemingly alert, to answer the phone.

Often it was her, his wife.

They had only been married six months, but she would phone through the day – always with a suitable reason, of course.

And his work colleagues watched with dismay as the formerly vibrant, enthusiastic young man ceased to be who he had been.

He began to arrive late and leave early, to please Ellen, to keep her happy and off his back.

And then came the day he didn’t turn in.

Ellen had rung in to say he was sick.

His sickness lasted weeks, until the day he arrived back at work, early.

He sat at his desk and his friends were pleased to see him back, little knowing that Michael Shaw was a widower.

He sat at his desk and dealt with his workload just as he had before meeting Ellen, even offering to do overtime.

And then the phone rang, just after five; and those still in the office watched his face turn ashen, as he heard Ellen’s voice.

“But, you’re dead, I killed you.” He was heard to say in hushed tones.

Yet, in death, as in life, his wife would have the last word.


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