Playing with makeup always seemed like such a harmless pursuit especially for the strikingly pretty son of a Cover Girl.
Chapter I: So Much in Love!
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. Alonso, you may now kiss your bride,” the priest said as Alonso Pascale’s mouth met my heavily painted lips. Alonso who had courted me. Alonso who had bedded me. Alonso, the Italian Movie Director who had seen to it that my dear mother’s stalled movie and modeling career had taken off once again and was now thriving.
He did it all because he desired my tight, little, jiggling ass and wanted it be his, all alone. I knew that Alonso’s mother, Donna Vicenza, was in the front pew, making the Sign of the Cross. She was praying to the Holy Mother, the Saints and the Angels. She was praying that Alonso be spared the burning fires of Satan’s Hell, for marrying the “Sissy Girl” with those tiny boy parts between her legs.
“It will all be fixed one day mother,” Alonso had lied. He liked me with a dick, even if at this point in time it was a very tiny cock. He never wanted a real female. Why would he ever want me to become just like one? He adored me on all fours, screeching like a Siren, as he banged away at my ass pussy.
Oh, but I was a girl at heart. A real girly-girl. Even more so, a very fussy and quite prissy, girly girl, when it came to my attire, my hair, my makeup and my jewelry. As Alonso kissed me hungrily to the oooh’s and aah’s of the people in the church I hoped he would keep his hands right at my sylph-like waist. How much I didn’t want him to put his fingers thru my elaborately coiffured tresses!
I’d spent the entire morning with my mother Eliza’s, personal hairdresser, Mr. Mauricio, having my hair “done” in a heavily lacquered, high-fashion upsweep. The top was finished in a very detailed, carefully arranged cascade of curls. The rest was swept back and exhibited in a gorgeous, Grecian braid.
I already knew I’d have to have my makeup redone after this lengthy kiss. I just wanted to look my most beautifully best, for the remainder of the reception and the wedding photographs. I knew that once I was onboard Alonso’s private jet on our way to Buenos Aires, everything would become a complete disaster. My gown, my girdle and likely my brassiere would come off almost instantly.
That would expose everything that Alonso desired to play with. He’d want me to keep on my stockings, my tallest of heels and my jewels, just for the sake of looking sexy. And at that juncture my hair and makeup would be intact. But not for very long.
And I was so right. Prior to takeoff, we relaxed. Alonso drank some private stock, Scotch whiskey. As always I’d sipped my very favorite sissy drink. A mixture of Cherry Liqueur and Grape Brandy. So very sweet, but with a kick. Sort of like me. Between sips of our beverages we’d smoked a carefully rolled, cigarillo sized joint, laced with Hashish and Marijuana, and dipped in just a tincture of Opium.
The Opium, though addictive if smoked plentifully enough, was for me, very essential. It loosened my sphincter muscles dramatically. I’m no virgin as far as that goes. But Alonso has a cock likened to a Claiborne Farm Stud Horse. Every little bit helps for this girl.
Once we were at 40,000 feet and the plane leveled off, the pilot told us in English, Italian and French that we could move about the cabin. Of course we walked up one level to the king-sized bed. The room was equipped with lubricant and numerous toys which we would employ to enhance our sexual experience.
Would it now be any different because we are legally married? In the sense that our love was now sanctified by a Catholic Priest, well, maybe? I know the very thought terrified my new mother-in-law. Though I think she may be warming to me?
The morning of the wedding, after I’d slipped into my Versace, Tulle-Lace, A-line, bottom-ruffle, Mini-dress, she looked at my long, Bambi-like gams and said, “Lola Maria, you have the most lovely legs I’ve ever seen on a girl.”
I know that her son, my wonderful Alonso loves my long, sexy legs. He also loves a lot more about my sultry body, though. And as the jet leveled off at 40,000, and it became “safe to move about the cabin,” we climbed into our little love nest in the sky and Alonso took me into his arms and gently lowered me to the bed as if I were his virgin bride.
His kisses enticed me and the way he fondled my implanted breasts made the surgery all the more worth getting. I know he thinks so. More than once he’s told me my tits were worth much more than the tens of thousands he spent on them.
He sucked on my nipples as if they were producing Scotch whiskey. Oh, but the feeling I get throughout my loins when he worships my breasts like that! Not enough to give me any sort of real erection of course. I know when he kissed me at the wedding I wasn’t worried that my cock would ruin the girlish front of my prissy wedding gown.
My sex organ hasn’t reacted like the sex organ of a real, normal boy for quite some time. Of course I’m very far removed from ever being a normal boy, ever again. And I don’t think I ever desired the life of a real normal boy anyway. I’m so full of Estrogen today, and my Testosterone level is practically non-existent.
Still, when Alonso makes love to me, he enjoys massaging my nearly flat groin and squeezing my tiny nuts along with my penis. My penis, which is so tiny it is more like a clitoris. I love thinking of it as my clitoris.
Alonso’s cock is another story, however. As he worked over my breasts and genitals I fondled his cock, just to feel it grow into the huge monster that will soon be inside my mouth and will later assault my hot, steaming, ass-pussy.
“Please, oh please my darling, I implore you, my love. Please let me take you between my lips, my husband? I painted my lips so prettily for you. Just to receive your cock between them. Let me surround your penis with my mouth?” I begged, in my sweetest, most girly, subservient wife voice.
“Of course my Lola Maria, my love. Service me with your mouth. But not for too long, Cara Mia. I want to enter your pussy, my princess,” he added.
And so, I did. I licked all around his cock and balls, greedily tasting his manliness and hungrily pleasuring him until he finally mounted me. As much as I wanted Alonso to explode inside my mouth, I was as submissive and obedient to his expressed desires as any “Old World,” European Italian wife would be.
As far as I am concerned I am married to this Italian stud, and I am his “Little Woman” and he is my Master. When he was ready, I smiled to him. I asked him what he desired of me. I am a slave to his wishes.
“Darling. I know you want to be inside me. I want you to be inside me. How do you want to take me?” I submissively asked.
We’ve made love in so many various positions. I have knelt on all fours. I have laid on my back for him. I have sat on his lap with my back to him. I’ve sat on his lap facing him and I’ve laid on my side with my back to him. For our post-wedding lovemaking he honored me.
My loving husband wanted me positioned as if I were any other eager, but helplessly in love bride. On my back with my legs spread and splayed, as well as opened-wide, hungrily awaiting my very masculine husband’s penis.
And when my husband Alonso finally gave the word, I threw my legs wildly around his torso as he fucked me into heavenly bliss. When his penis entered me I lost all focus and cognizance that we were actually in a private jet at 40,000 feet. We could have been in the Honeymoon Suite at the Hilton San Moritz or a cove on the beach at La Costa Del Sol, for all I knew.
And I knew all that practice with dilators and the butt-plugs, which I still wore had been worth the effort to insert them. Alonso’s massive erect cock slipped into my gaping, greased-up, ass-pussy hole just as if it had belonged there all along.
Of course we were headed to Buenos Aires. But, from my modeling career I’ve become what is known as an air-head. I’ve spent so much time looking and acting pretty and being told just what to do that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to think for myself, ever again. Never.
Not that I was ever really great at thinking for myself. Fashion modeling did suit me well. They told me when to smile, when to look sultry, when to look bored and when to wiggle my ass. They taught me how to walk, how to pose and how to stare blankly off into space.
But, spontaneous sex, the way Alonso likes it is somehow second nature to me. That’s because, in addition to being an airhead, I’m also a slut. A real slut. I love having a giant horse-cock just like Alonso’s buried deeply within my ass-pussy.
Whether at 40,000 feet or at sea level it all feels the same. And as Alonso pounded away so gleefully, on our way to Buenos Aires, I felt his cock expanding and I knew that very soon, my insides would be filling with his wonderfully warm sperm.
Sperm that would never find an egg to fertilize, but all the same it was sperm he had expelled because I turned him on. So I screamed and screeched gleefully as he filled me up because that is just what slutty girls like me do. My deeply satisfying climax produced its normal leakage of milky white discharge from the tip of my clit.
As our passions subsided I realized how fulfilled I was and how thoroughly rewarding my life as Alonso’s wife would be. I’ll never want for anything. We have three gorgeous homes, with servants. As far as the servants are concerned I’m am the Princess Lola Maria, mistress of the castles.
Anywhere I go I can buy custom fitted clothing or if I’m “slumming” I can do “off-the-rack.” Salesgirls, in jewelry shops fall all over themselves to wait on me. As do hairdressers in beauty salons, unless of course my own private stylist comes to one of our homes to do my hair.
I wasn’t always a princess, but I am now and I love it. I simply adore it darling. I really do. Hours later, as the jet descended and made it’s approach to the international airfield in Argentina, my foggy, hashish enveloped mind drifted back to the days when I wasn’t yet a princess and I recalled what that was like.
I was born Leo Mario Henley. My father, like my new husband was a European movie director. The only interest he had in my mother was that she was the newest, hottest, piece-of-tail in the business. He was gone even before she became pregnant. When I was born he sent a lot of money to keep her from bringing a paternity suit.
Mother wasn’t crazy. She kept the money. She’d have never brought a paternity suit though. Mom raised me single-handedly. You surely know of her, or from my last name have figured out who she is. Yes, mother is Cover-girl cum actress, Eliza Henley.
I didn’t just inherit my now “Maiden” name from her. No, I inherited her gorgeous looks, dark, smoky eyes, thick, generously lavish tresses, fat pouty lips and her slender, svelte figure. I was my mother’s son. Now, I’m Mommy’s daughter.
Did I have a chance to be anything other than a girly-girl? Well, I was raised in a household surrounded by females like my mother. All her closest friends were models and actresses. Many were married, some were single but most who had children, had daughters.
Even before I took any interest in girls, these chicly dressed, perfectly coiffed women would be over the house, discussing men, comparing hairdressers, experimenting with the makeup mother marketed and remarking on how very much mother and I looked alike.
So, when these queens of stage and screen did Mother/Daughter photos, my jealous mom would do one of the two of us. Did it matter if our slacks and tops were similarly cut? So what if mom put a few dabs of makeup on my lips, cheeks and eyes? And who cares that we wore similar but not identical hats?
Well not me. And of course everyone loved our Mother/Son pictures. By my early teens if I was photographed with the daughter of some actress, right away we were a couple and of course I could now pass as a normal, heterosexual boy. What they didn’t know was that these girls were as fascinated as their moms were with just how pretty I actually was.
And me? Well, who was I to complain if any of them wanted to try out some of their newly found makeup skills on me? As the son of a cover girl, wasn’t that what I’d like to do the very most? And then maybe put some hot-rollers in my hair? And wouldn’t you know it, but their clothes fit me perfectly, also?
It was from a few photos of me taken by Lori Lane, the actress, that launched my first “Androgynous” photo shoot. Lori’s daughter, Cassandra, had dolled me up with curled hair and full makeup, wearing spike heels, a sequined blouse and a pair of Capris. She posed me at the foot of the stairs at their home.
“Look what I did with Leo, mother. Isn’t he gorgeous?” Cassandra chirped.
Lori, all in fun, took some photos for mom. She kept some for herself. One afternoon, Katy Royale, from Royale Management was over the Lane home. Katy had just taken on the management of three or four, Androgynous/Transgendered male models. One was Andrea Previn from the Czech Republic. Katy saw the photos and said, “That looks like Eliza Henley when she was eighteen.”
“You’re very close, Katy. And it should look like Eliza. It’s her sixteen-year-old son, Leo,” said Lori.
“What on earth? She, I mean he looks just sensational! Lori, I just took on four Androgynous boy models. None are over nineteen. They are the hottest properties I have. Call Eliza for me? Please Lori? I just simply have to talk to her,” Katy begged.
When mother took the call, she was interested. Why not? We were doing okay but her Cover Girl career had slowed. And she’d never achieved the acclaim as an actress that she’d needed to still get the leading lady parts.
She was still doing movies but no blockbusters. “I’ll talk to Leo. It sounds very interesting Katy,” mom said.
I sort of balked. Playing with makeup and dressing up as a girl around mom and some friends, in private, was one thing. But publicly doing it and having all of Hollywood as well as the rest of the world know I might be a “girly-boy” wasn’t exactly on my Top Ten list. But then Mother told me what I could get paid as a model.
“As a Cover Girl as well as a model I occasionally made more in a year than I ever made as an actress, Leo,” she said.
I was sold. Mother made an appointment for us to be in Katy Royale’s office Monday at 8 A.M. sharp. Mom had sent the contract Katy had faxed to her to Mom’s agent. He’d looked it over and said it looked standard and pretty good.
“You’ll note that I’ve allowed for the modeling agencies to pay for all the dance, charm and modeling lessons Leo will be needing. Leo, you look great! Who did your hair and makeup? Mother? And the outfit is a good start on what we’re trying to achieve here,” Katy said, approvingly.
“Yes, mother set my hair last night and did my makeup this morning. And these clothes are her’s,” I added in reference to the black, spandex pants, the ribbed-knit pink sweater, and the white, kitten-heel pumps.
“Did you say charm lessons, Katy? I can see the dance and modeling, but why charm?” Eliza, my mother asked, with a frown.
“This isn’t just about Androgyne modeling. Sometimes, like in Andre Previn’s case, it crosses over into Transgender shoots and shows. And the boys walk the catwalk with the girls and they need to talk and act, just as properly and as prissy as the girls do. Especially during a taped interview,” Katy explained.
“I didn’t know that. Do all of the boys, I mean the Androgyne models, get involved in that?” Mother asked.
“All of my androgyne’s have done transgender stuff, thus far. That’s where the money really is. Crossing over. Andrea does it the most. Sami, my new eighteen-year-old from Turkey wore a few dresses in the last show he did and looked just stunning. The two youngest, Rene, a French boy, and Sasha, from Russia have only worn skirts, blouses and heels in photo shoots so far,” Katy added.
“Rene and Sasha are both seventeen. Their mothers take turns and split traveling time with them. I need for anyone under eighteen to be chaperoned,” Katy explained.
“I’m not sure how much time I can devote to that?” Mother said.
“Maybe we could ask Aunt Cynthia to help out, mother?” I offered, not wanting to miss out on something this exciting.
Aunt Cynthia was mother’s younger half-sister, and at twenty-nine, a jet-setting trust fund baby. They had different fathers.
“I could ask her? She might enjoy being a stage mother or in her case a Stage-Auntie,” mother laughed.
“I’ve found a lady that can serve as Leo’s dance, charm and modeling tutor. Elaine Balsam. The dance will be primarily all ballet. This entire Androgyne thing has just morphed so quickly into the world of transgenderism. And very quickly, I might add!” Katy exclaimed.
“Before I knew it, tartan kilts had become plaid jumpers, with knee-highs. Then, one piece exercise suits, became rompers and sun-suits. After that, tight, slim-fit slacks turned into sexy Capri’s. The latest craze is having the boys in Palazzo pant sets, with billowy, flouncy blouses, kitten heels, and cute, Bolero shrugs,” said Katy with just a hint of resignation.
“I’ve had designers and shoot directors ask the boys to wear curly wigs, or have their hair colored and of course, even permed. I went on a shoot last Wednesday at Lulu Fontaine’s fashion house. Sami and Rene were backstage seated at mirrored vanities with the makeup girls. Their hair was pinned up in rollers sets. They had high-heeled pumps on, and they were wearing hairnets,” Katy sighed.
“So, I’m never surprised and I don’t know what to expect, any longer. But, all the boys and their moms have been fantastic,” Katy smiled.
“Katy I have to ask Leo something before we fully commit to this,” mom said.
“Leo. You’ve been listening to Katy. Are you okay with all of this? Now there’s nothing wrong with ballet of course. But what about the charm lessons? And will you be comfortable with wearing such obvious and traditional ladies’ clothing, such as a set of billowy Palazzo slacks or a pair of high-heeled pumps?” Mother asked.
“Plus it sounds like there are trips to the beauty parlor involved, where you might have something done like a perm or highlighting. So Leo, mother will support whatever you want to do, but I need to know that you are all in,” mom added.
“Yes, mother. It doesn’t sound like I’ll be spending all my waking hours dressed like Jasmine Laurent. I think modeling is like acting. The clothes you wear and how you look are only for the camera and the people watching,” I said.
“When you played Anne Boleyn you didn’t have to wear flowing gowns when you went out to dinner did you? And as for having my hair set? And wearing makeup? I slept in plastic curlers last night and you styled my hair and put makeup on me this morning, mother,” I said.
“Yes, you’re right, as this was for a job doing androgynous modeling. But it wasn’t a lot of makeup and it was only to give your hair some body. Well Leo if you’re okay with this, I guess we are in. Katy, let’s sign the paperwork,” mother said.
Chapter II: Like Mother, Like Son
Mother decided to have Aunt Cynthia over for dinner to fill her in on my new career and ask her about traveling with me. When she gave Cynthia an outline of everything, Aunt Cynthia was really enthused.
“You’re kidding? I think it sounds fantastic. I mean, right now it’s the summer, schools are out and you have the time to see if it’s something you really want to do. I’d love to help out. This is thrilling! What can I do?” Cynthia asked excitedly.
“Well, for instance. Monday he has some sort of private dance, charm and modeling class to attend. I need to be at my agents during the same time frame. I’m looking at a script. It’s a supporting actress role. I’m supposed to be Jasmine Laurent’s older sister, I guess?” Mother shrugged.
“Eliza, that’s a heck of a lot better than playing her mother, don’t you think? Sure I can be there. I just dumped my last boyfriend. I want to be out of circulation for a while. I have plenty of time on my hands,” Aunt Cynthia agreed.
We had to be at Elaine Balsam’s at 7:30 AM sharp. Elaine turned out to be a real martinet and task-mistress. She invited Cynthia to stay just as long as Cynthia didn’t mind sitting behind the glass with the recording tech.
Elaine recorded all lessons with sound and video. It gave both the student and teacher a valuable tutoring aide. We began with very simple posing and walking exercises. I never realized how difficult routine catwalk modeling was and I wasn’t even in high heels. Yet.
After about fifteen minutes Elaine threw up her hands and said. “Okay. You’ve got good poise Leo, but you walk much too fast and your strides are much too long. So, we have a method to correct that,” Elaine explained.
She brought out a pair of two-inch high-heeled pumps. They had an ankle strap for a little more support. “The pumps will slow down your walking speed. That height should be manageable. If not I have a few sets of kitten heels that should fit you. This, should train you to take tinier strides,” she added.
“This” was a short leather cord with a fur-lined ankle-cuff at each end. She had me sit and she snapped the cuffs around each ankle.
“Now stand up and slowly walk towards me, Leo. That’s it. See how the higher heel slows you down some as you get your balance? And the cord limits your stride, doesn’t it? The cord is adjustable, incidentally. But I think we have it adjusted, just about right, don’t you, Leo?” Elaine asked.
I wasn’t exactly certain of that? But Elaine seemed to think that me taking about a nine-inch stride was just perfect?
“Wonderful, Leo darling. Simply excellent honey. Perfect. See now? You were walking like a cowboy. Now, you’re mincing like a prissy debutante. But that’s what it takes to walk the runway dear. And that’s what I’m being paid to teach you,” Elaine intoned as she put me thru my paces.
I was exhausted after that first day. We did stop for lunch and a break now and then. On the way home I asked Cynthia what she thought.
“I think you did very well. Especially once Elaine put you in those training shoes and the anklets. Modeling is all about discipline and sacrifice kitten, and that is what Elaine is trying to ingrain in you. Discipline and sacrifice. So you should practice at home. It was nice that she gave you those high-heels and ankle cuffs to take home, too, baby,” Cynthia added.
“So between now and Thursday I’d practice about two hours a day if I were you. You should have the time. Tonight we’ll show your mother what you learned,” Aunt Cynthia said.
Aunt Cynthia stayed for dinner. After coffee she had me take out my new high heels, fasten the cuffs and show mom just how “pretty” I could walk. Mother kind of freaked out.
“She’s already teaching him how to walk like a girl? And what kind of medieval device is that? Well, I’m going there with him Thursday to straighten this out,” mom insisted.
“No, Eliza. I’m going to class with him. There is nothing wrong with the tutor. You know yourself that acting and modeling are all about discipline and sacrifice. That’s all this is, big sister. Please Eliza? Don’t get too deeply involved with this right now. Let me be the stage Auntie or the stage mom, or whatever,” Aunt Cynthia said.
“I’m sorry Leo. You weren’t walking like a girl. And actually you have great balance for a boy wearing a pair of two-inch pumps. Okay. I’ll stay completely out of this for the time being. Thank you Cynthia for being so gracious as to help Leo out with this,” mom smiled and hugged her sister.
“I’ve got plenty on my plate right now anyway. I’m going to try out for that part. I will read for it at the end of the week. It’s going to be big budget with Jasmine Laurent in it,” Mom added, happily.
The next several lessons went smoothly. I liked the ballet very much. After a month of ballet and modeling lessons, Elaine Balsam called Katy and told her I was ready for a photo shoot test. Katy said she’d get back to me.
“Now, we need to concentrate on the Charm aspect of modeling which is central to the entire modeling experience. Especially if you do interviews on camera, or intense catwalk posing. Even for an extensive photo shoot, charm can be critical to getting the mood of the planned photo shoot across to the public,” Elaine explained.
It sounded intense and indeed almost anything taught by Elaine could be very intense. My Aunt Cynthia really liked Elaine Balsam and the methods she was using to train me, very much. In fact after one of the classes Auntie spent a few moments complimenting Elaine and reassuring her that her training methods were really working for me.
“Ms. Balsam I just have to thank you for the amazing progress you have made with my nephew Leo Mario. Leo has become one of the most well-mannered, demure, perfectly disciplined, young, teenaged boys I have ever seen. And it has been all because of the amazing disciplinary methods you have used in training him,” Aunt Cynthia said.
“I’m sorry. How rude of me. I’m Leo’s Aunt Cynthia. His mother Eliza’s half sister. Cynthia Caruthers. Ever since he began Charm, Dance and Modeling lessons with you, Leo has progressed fantastically. Please keep it up. You’re doing such a wonderful job. Thank you so much, Ms. Balsam,” Aunt Cynthia added.
Elaine Balsam was thunderstruck at such an exuberant compliment. She paused and reached out her hand. “Well thank you Ms. Caruthers. Please, Ms. Caruthers, call me Elaine. I sincerely wish all the parents and guardians were so supportive and understanding of my methods,” Elaine smiled.
“Well thank you Elaine. I understand completely. This is all about discipline and sacrifice. Just like acting. Modeling and acting are so very similar. And please Elaine. Call me Cynthia. I do hope we can become friends, Elaine?” Aunt Cynthia professed.
“Yes of course Cynthia. I think we already understand each other quite well,” Elaine Balsam smiled.
During my next lesson Elaine Balsam was to teach me all about sacrifice. I was dressed in my normal “Dance” outfit, for ballet of course. White Tights, pink leotard, and dainty, silver ballet slippers with my long, dark brown hair done in the usual French Braid that Elaine so strongly favored for me.
She posed me in front of the wrap-around mirror in the studio with my right leg upon the barre. The strains of the “Nutcracker suite” were playing softly. “Did you read that book I gave you with the series of bios on all of those great models included, Leo Mario? Could you see what they all stressed so clearly about their success? They all stressed emphatically that it was both discipline and sacrifice that led to their success. Didn’t they Leo?” Elaine asked redundantly.
She strode a few feet from me. “And in the bio on Andrea Previn, the newest Androgyne modeling sensation. What was it that he said he had to pocket along with his boyish pride when he modeled so beautifully? Now tell me Leo? Tell me what it was and don’t be afraid to say it. Come now Leo. Be brave for Ms. Elaine,” Elaine insisted.
I hesitated and then said, “HIs masculinity? Andrea Previn said he had to sacrifice his maleness at times to succeed in his endeavors. Didn’t he?” I asked, confused.
“Yes Leo. Andrea did say that. Very good. I’m quite proud of you, Leo Mario. Yes. So today we’ll practice an exercise that will exemplify and illustrate just what Andrea meant by that,” Elaine said, holding out to me the fussiest ballerina Baby-blue Tutu, on the face of the Earth.
“Let’s put this on you, Leo Mario. There, we’ll just slip this Tutu up those lovely, well-formed, beautifully shaped legs you have. Has anyone ever told you what absolutely stunning legs you have Leo Mario? Well you do, dearest. Lovely, sexy legs. Especially as you can see, right now. They’re simply gorgeous when displayed in tights and a pretty, girlish Tutu,” Elaine smiled, motioning for me to assume a Plie.
“Now. I realize you’ve never danced the entire Nutcracker, but you do know all of the basic ballet movements. So while the Suite plays and I sing and hum, I want you to gracefully spin, glide, jump, dart and turn about the room, over and over in that order Leo Mario. Begin now!” Elaine ordered.
As Elaine hummed and sang, and the beautiful strains of the Nutcracker Suite played in the background, I danced gracefully as instructed. Once I began and listened to her sing-song cadence I managed to blot the outside world from my mind and truly enjoyed what I was doing.
“Very nice Leo Mario. And now we jump, and now we glide, and then we dart, and now we turn and then we spin, and spin, and spin again and again! And one, and two, and three and four, spin and spin, and spin yet again! Up on our tippy-toes darling. Oh so very nice and pretty!” Elaine sang approvingly as I pirouetted in my pink Tutu.
“And Plie!” Elaine sang out as the music stopped and she circled around me, like a lioness, stalking her prey. With her hands on her hips she appraised me. I had to admit one thing. Though somewhat spent, I certainly felt very excited and refreshed.
“Well now wasn’t that a lot of fun? And so very exciting wasn’t it, now? To be as free as a little birdie with her wings spread so wide and so beautifully. Gracefully soaring without a care in the world. You looked so lovely and at perfect peace, my beautiful Leo Mario!” Elaine gushed.
Just for a fleeting moment I paused to look thru the glassed-in area where Elaine’s technical assistant Brenda sat with Aunt Cynthia. Aunt Cynthia was watching in rapt attention and smiling almost gleefully. I smiled back and returned my attentions to Elaine.
“And now, we will take this all, just a few steps further. Just solely for the sake of instruction and presentation. Now, Leo Mario we will learn all about being, not just a well-disciplined model, but an alluringly charming model. Charm, as I have said, is at the very heart and soul of modeling. Come over to the vanity dear,” Elaine said as she motioned for me to follow her.
I did follow her. As if I were a gentle little lamb. When I arrived at the vanity she motioned for me to remove the tutu. However in it’s place she handed me a light pink/beige, wraparound knee-length skirt. It had a spilt down the right side and at the same side, a convenient tie at the waist.
“Here, let Ms. Elaine help you Leo. You obviously haven’t handled one of these pretty wrap skirts, have you now, Leo my dearest? These sash, wraparound skirts are just so nice and flirty, Leo. See? Just put it around your waist and we tie off this pretty bow just like this. Isn’t that cute?” Elaine asked as she made certain she had tied a big, floppy bow at the right side of my waist at my hip.
Then she seated me at the vanity with my back to the mirror to explain what we were doing. As she explained everything she held a shiny pair of black, three-inch high heeled, ankle-strap pumps in her hands.
“Let me explain Leo. Today our lesson is going to exhibit just how closely melded together acting and modeling are. Just as your Mother, Eliza, went from being a Cosmetics Cover Girl to a sought after Movie Queen, I’m going to show you how you can go from being a sweet boy, named Leo Mario to a pretty girl model named, Lola Maria!” Elaine smiled.
“It’s all about projecting to an audience that you are someone you are not. Instead of timid Leo Mario you’re going to play the role of the effervescent, outgoing, and very flirtatious, Lola Maria. Just watch. Let’s get these high heels on you and see how you handle them, darling,” Elaine said.
As I’d done before, I looked towards the glassed-in area surrounding the Audio-visual booth and my Aunt Cynthia and Elaine’s A/V Tech, Brenda, were animatedly in a discussion. My aunt had the fingers of one hand to her chin, but she was smiling. She didn’t appear at all, to have even the slightest concern that this woman was in the process of dressing me as a girl.
As Elaine fitted me with the high-heeled pumps, she explained why they’d be fairly easy to walk in. “These fit you very well Leo. A very nice snug toe and a high back. As you can see there is plenty of support. You have one strap that fits nicely around your ankle and another over your instep,” Elaine instructed.
“Now, take my hand and we’ll do a little test drive. Before you know it we’ll have you in makeup, with your hair done up and you’ll be ready foo be a runway, princess,” Elaine effused.
She took me around the perimeter of the studio slowly. I’d already been practicing twice daily at home, walking in two-inch heels with the leather cord and the ankle clasps between my legs. Truthfully these three-inch heels with double-straps weren’t difficult to get used to.
Elaine let me circle the studio twice on my own, and seemed pleased. “Very nice darling. Now mince Leo. Walk pretty for me. We’ll work on that butt wiggle and a little shimmy later on dear. Come over here and we’ll get your face and hair fixed,” Elaine ordered.
I was quite apprehensive as we sat side by side on the vanity bench with possibly a foot of space between us. Elaine had me turn towards her by twisting my torso. She got close enough to look over my face. Then she picked up a cleansing wipe and and went to work around my entire face, cleaning my pores.
Then she patted my face dry and she began to apply a fawn-shaded foundation. She was excruciatingly precise with my makeup application. She petted the foundation with a soft translucent pressed powder, before she glamorously decorated my eyes, using a soft rose shadow and a deep, dark, dusky kohl mascara.
Having my eyebrows plucked and thinned was an experience that was very new to me. Elaine paused to look my brows over before saying, “You could use a complete brow waxing and possibly a touch of lip plumping. I’ll talk to Katy. Maybe she could get you in next week for both those procedures, plus some highlights, at one of the salons she uses over in the Hills?” Elaine added to my puzzlement. It was as if she were speaking to herself.
Before she went to work on my mouth, she softly dabbed some Titian blush onto my cheeks. Now, I’d of course been dressed as a girl by the daughters of many of my mother’s friends. But, well, that was mostly all in fun and we were all just being cute.
And yes, Mother, from time to time did my hair, dressed me in her more “mannishly” designed attire, and put a little makeup on me for the greeting cards she sent out around the holidays. Again, that was because she envied all her actress and model friends for their Mother/Daughter, look-alike photos.
This somehow seemed different, in that Elaine wanted me to play the role of a girl and had even given me a girl’s name. However, then again, I’d said to myself, and even to my mother, that as a model I’d simply be “playing a role” while I was on the runway or having pictures taken.
Elaine now took a lip-wand and moistened it in a tube of liquid lip-liner. “This is called Magical Magenta. Pucker-up please, Lola?” Elaine said as she took such great care outlining my pretty lips.
I’ve had hundreds of makeovers, even if it does seem like thousands, any longer. Some, of course occurred just before I strolled the runway. I’ve had numerous other makeovers before I flitted capriciously before a camera, during a photo shoot, or taking pictures for my “Look-Book.” Mother has always insisted we both have extensive makeovers prior to walking the red carpet, hand-in-hand. Of course today, whenever Alonso and I go somewhere like Cannes, I wouldn’t ever think of not having a makeover, often daily.
But this first thorough makeover, from Elaine Balsam, who even today is such a mentor to me, was special. Very special. For me it would be the bridge I would cross-over to first meet, if not embrace, a girl named Lola Maria. I wouldn’t actually shed the illusory male shell of Leo Mario immediately, of course.
However the day I first assumed the persona of Lola Maria, a layer of the facade named Leo Mario was initially peeled away. Yes, that fateful day in Elaine Balsam’s studio will forever be a transformative moment in my life.
After Elaine was satisfied with the outline she’d drawn upon my mouth, she carefully and dramatically extended a tube of lipstick. “Creamy Terra Cotta darling. This will make that puckered bouche of your’s just so devastatingly alluring,” she smiled, as she painted my lips so precisely.
She then put the tube of lipstick away. Like a well-trained toy-poodle I remained turned towards her. She rose from the vanity bench and placing her hands on my slender shoulders she rotated my torso and head, so I could see my reflection in the mirror. Of course, staring back at me with an amazed look upon my prettified face was a girl I barely recognized.
The true vision of loveliness that was to become Lola Maria was yet to be fulfilled, but her wide-eyed innocence at this stage of her transformation was startling.
As Elaine casually took down my French-braided hair, removing the pins and the band that held it all together, she idly appraised the enchanting waves produced by the braiding process. Then she looked into the mirror, oh yes, the “Looking glass,” and her piercing blue eyes appeared to lock onto my dark orbs.
I felt so vulnerable at that instant. It was as if I was being sexually violated. I attempted, unsuccessfully to avert my eyes from Elaine’s penetrating gaze. But, her strong, steady leer now held me captive. It was as if she had penetrated through a window, deeply into my fluttery soul.
She smiled, no, she smirked. “An updo, I think. Wouldn’t an updo appear so perfectly dazzling on you, right now? Lola Maria? Answer me, girl. An updo would be just perfectly charming on you today, wouldn’t it, princess?” Elaine asked as if she were my attendant governess, and I a debutante, now subject to her charge.
“Yes, Madame Elaine. An updo would add such an enchanting touch to what you’ve already done,” I whispered, the voice coming from my lipstick moistened lips barely my own. I stared, with my smoky, kohl enhanced eyes, fully entranced, at the cool, detached, efficiency, with which this grand lady now embellished my wavy tresses.
She carefully set upon the side of the vanity table, a hairbrush, a rat-tailed teasing comb, a bottle of spritz and a jar of sculpting gel. Then she set out to fashion my locks into a tonsorial hybrid of Brigette Bardot and Audrey Hepburn. After intense back combing she melded the locks on the side and rear of my pate, into a sleek, French-roll.
On the top of my head she twisted, wound and swirled my tresses into a Bouffant inspired, beehive. After a very healthy spritzing she smiled and held out her hand as if to assist me, the new princess, to stand. “I think for the time being some simple curtsies will be in order. Aunt Cynthia, would you like to meet your brand new niece, Lola Maria?” Elaine asked.
Aunt Cynthia came smiling, practically glowing, from behind the glassed-in A/V booth. As she strolled across the dance studio, Elaine showed me how to properly curtsey. When my Aunt Cynthia did reach us she was breathless.
“Elaine. I can’t believe it? She looks marvelous. What an amazing, transformative appearance you’ve achieved! I knew she’d always be a pretty girl, but oh my heavens, she’s just simply divine!” Aunt Cynthia exclaimed, having no problem ascribing a female pronoun to typify me.
“Cynthia I just simply knew you’d love her. Lola Maria, I think you need to properly thank your Auntie Cynthia for such a lovely compliment,” Elaine said.
Indeed, I dipped into a curtsey, playing the role of the pretty Lola Maria to the hilt. “Thank you so very much Auntie,” I smiled.
Now, Elaine, ever the martinet, put me thru my paces. I walked, sat, stood, gestured and did my very best to speak, move and pose like a 16 to 18 year old female. Just before we broke for lunch, I walked the catwalk/runway numerous times until I met Elaine’s reluctant approval.
Brenda now came quickly from the A/V booth to speak directly to Elaine.
“Ms. Balsam. Katy Royale just called. I took it on your cell. She’ll be here in about ninety minutes. She’s bringing a photographer and a rep from Lulu Fontaine’s Fashion House. The want to see Leo, or Lola Maria, take some shots for her ‘Look Book,’ see her move on the runway, do some test photos and take some publicity pics for the trade papers,” Brenda announced.
“Well then why not have the deli send something over for lunch? Make sure in Lola’s case, that it’s something light and vegan. She will be needing to watch her waistline from here on out,” Elaine said as my Aunt Cynthia nodded.
“Shouldn’t I change?” I asked.
“Change? Why would you need or even want to change, sweetheart? After all the work we did on you? You look fabulous. Darling, the difference in Androgyne modeling and Transgender modeling is all within the small matter of the eyes of the beholder. Why not present the facade of Lola Maria today?” Elaine asked.
“We already have plenty of shots of Leo Mario to give them. The world will see Lola Maria soon enough anyway,” Elaine laughed, as Brenda updated Katy Royale with a lengthy text.
When Katy arrived with the Rep and Photographer from Lulu Fontaine’s, Katy was thunderstruck at how amazingly feminine I looked.
“Whoa! This is just so perfect. Elaine you fantastic, shrewd, bitch!You have outdone yourself once again. If there is anything all the fashion houses want to know, if how good do my Androgyne Boys look when they are dolled up. What did you call her? Oh, Lola Maria? I love that name!” Katy said, absolutely thrilled.
“That’s one of those names like J-Lo. Everyone knows who you are talking about. We don’t even need to use her last name. It would be anti-climatic. Let’s stick with that. She’s Lola Maria. Period. Again, I love it!” Katy added, clapping her hands.
I was then presented in every imaginable pose any model could be coerced into assuming. Hand on hip, one arm languidly dangling at my side. Then, they had me look off into the distance, dreamily distracted. Of course there is always the sultry, “Come hither, darling” look, staring into the eyes of the photographer.
After that, I strolled the runway, rolling my hips, taking dainty steps, staring vacantly and blankly, only occasionally smirking, as if I knew I was just too beautiful to smile.
“I think she did great. I mean after only two months of training?” Katy said to the Fontaine Rep, who readily agreed.
The photographer reluctantly gave Aunt Cynthia a few of the shots taken. Only after both Katy and Elaine told him and the Fontaine Rep who mother was.
Mother’s reaction to the photos was typical of her recent reluctance to let go and allow her younger sister to make decisions as to my new career.
“Geez, Cynthia. You let them dress my baby up like a brunette Barbie Doll? Why not let them pose Leo in a fur coat with his tits showing? Oh I forgot. He hasn’t grown tits just yet?” Mother remarked.
She would certainly change her tune when we sat down to negotiate with Lulu Fontaine herself, and she saw the numbers in the exclusive contract they offered me. There was one stipulation in the contract that we would all need to get over, though.
Fontaine Fashion House wanted me to model solely as Lola Maria. When we signed that contract any chance I would ever have to model as Leo Henley would evaporate.
“If we approve this and sign, I cannot allow you to publicize who Lola Maria actually is. You do understand that? Leo has friends, schoolmates, and other family. And I have a career in transition. It would just be too much, too soon, to contend with, right away,” Mom intoned.
“Maybe later, when it’s more accepted. Remember, Lola Maria is being marketed as a transgender model. It would turn our world upside down. That’s the only stipulation. Leo’s true identity cannot be revealed,” Mom insisted.
“Eliza, that is just what we intend to do and that is exactly what we want. That plays right into what our marketing strategy was intended to be. It will only add to the seductive mystery of Lola Maria,” Lulu Fontaine revealed.
“That is exactly how we wanted to play this from the start. No last name, no background. It will drive the press and the public crazy. When you feel comfortable about revealing Lola’s identity, you let us know. She does resemble enough, and people can guess all they want. But your secret is safe with us for now,” Lulu Fontaine promised.
“After makeup and hair color, eyebrow re-shaping and some lip-plumping, her looks will change enough that we can keep her identity under wraps until you’re more comfortable revealing it. Heavens knows we use plenty of cosmetics on these girls,” Lulu Fontaine, gushed.
“We’re going to provide her with a tutor, so there is no need to worry about her attending school. She’ll be spending quite a bit of time at Christophe’s in Beverly Hills. Waxing, Highlights, Collagen treatments, ear piercing, electrolysis. Plus we’ll have to do a little something to keep her girlishly flat downstairs and a little plumper up top,” Lulu smiled.
“Plus, we may need to pad her ass out, to make it more attractive. But we’ll take good care of her and of course both you and Cynthia are more than welcome as her chaperones. Always welcome,” Lulu added.
It wasn’t lost on me that I was now a “she” and a “her” in all the conversations. As valid as mother’s reluctance to this huge change was, when Alonso Pascale took a romantic interest in me and made her a career vaulting offer, her apprehension simply oozed into the stratosphere.
Of course, by then I was past the age of legal consent and hardly an innocent in sexual matters. Alonso was hardly my first love. That honor fell to the beautiful Andrea Previn.
Chapter III: Model Daughter and Niece
My dark, brunette, hair had this shiny, crimson glow throughout. I practically lived at Christophe’s during that juncture of my life and my trips to the salon, though tedious at times were often exciting too. My body was now completely waxed and as smooth as a baby’s ass.
I spent so much of my time now, with either me or my Aunt Cynthia, making my skin even softer with oils, lotions and moisturizers. My eyebrows were almost non-existent and very slim, high-arched curves.
As fat as the lips I had inherited from Mother were, the specialists at Fontaine’s Fashions had decreed I needed yet further plumping with Collagen injections.
Luckily for me, my thick, dark hair had a nice natural wave to it or I’m certain I’d have been subjected to tight, spirally perms. As it was, even the recent highlighting had made my thick rich hair look so much fuller. Having my hair highlighted for the first time was certainly a fun, girlish, experience.
It just felt so girly sitting at the manicure table having my nails painted, chatting and giggling, with a cute manicurist, with the foil wraps in my hair. And the way it turned out! Looking at the gleaming crimson highlights set against my rich brunette, natural color, I simply primped and preened in the salon mirrors.
And then, as I had my tresses tightly bound in curlers by the make up girl’s at Lulu Fontaine’s, it was as if I sat there in front of the wrap-around mirrors dreaming away my childish boyhood, and wondering about the life of feminine submission that awaited me.
Yes, as they painted my pretty face, I became more and more aware of a what a passive, subservient girl I was becoming. Yet more submissive than even the average girl of that day.
I’d went into the studio that same day, swinging my hips and smiling so flirtatiously. They were shooting several girls along with Andrea and I. And for the very first time, I was so very envious of these pretty females with their pointy tits and their rounded asses. The flirty attitude I brought to the studio that day really helped me with looking hot for the camera guy.
I felt like throwing myself into the lap of the hunky photographer. Every chance I got I winked at him and thrust my hips out. Later, I caught myself winking at Andrea more than once. Even my Aunt Cynthia mentioned it, when she whispered to me, “What do you have going on today girlfriend? You’re really acting like Little Miss Hot-Pants, aren’t you?”
I was fixing my makeup and fluffing my bangs for the umpteenth time that day when I felt the presence of someone close by staring at me. It was Andrea Previn. I continued to paint my lips, pucker them and then loudly snapped my compact shut before I spoke to him.
“Hello Andrea. I thought it was a fun shoot? How about you?” I asked.
“Yes. I could tell you were having fun, Miss Lola. I wanted to ask you, something Lola. How old are you? I thought maybe eighteen? No?” Andrea asked.
“I just turned seventeen. I still need a chaperone most of the time. I usually come with my Aunt Cynthia, like today. Sometimes with my Mother,” I said.
“So having coffee with me would be out of the question I guess? Me being twenty, I mean?” Andrea asked.
“No. Not exactly. I mean I could ask her. Of course as long as you don’t mind going out with someone who is jailbait?” I smiled.
“Let me find my aunt, Andrea. I’ll ask,” I said.
My aunt hesitated. “This is one of those things that I find so innocent yet your mother finds way too intriguing. I look at it as two like-minded kids just having fun. Sure, why not? If he has a car you need to be home by 6 PM, for supper. It’s 1 PM, so you have five hours to have fun,” Aunt Cynthia smiled.
The shoot had been a really early 7 AM start. My mother was on location in Nevada. So luckily I was staying with Aunt Cynthia. Andrea and I drove to a Starbucks in his Miata. He drove fast. I think he was showing off, but I liked that.
I also liked that he was taller, older and at that time, a little less feminine than me. It made me feel more like a girl out on a date with a pretty boyfriend. Though it was probably more like two chicks out on a date, and Andrea was the more Butch, between the two of us.
The entire thing was exciting if nothing else. There were always rumors of Andrea having a boyfriend. Then there would be rumors of him dating a female model, also.
When we left Starbucks, I asked him where he lived. “With my sister in Beverly Hills. She’s a Versace model. But right now she’s doing a fashion show on the east coast. Would you like to see the house where we live, Lola?” Andrea asked.
“Yes. I’d liked that very much, Andrea,” I said with a wink.
That was all the prompting he needed. When we arrived at the home he asked me about Aunt Cynthia. “You know that people always talk and gossip. Rumor has it that your Aunt is more open minded and less protective of you than your mother as a chaperone? Is that true, Lola?” Andrea asked.
“Yes, Andrea. Why would you ask?” I smiled.
“Well does she allow you to drink alcohol?” Andrea wanted to know.
“Well sometimes a glass of wine or two with dinner. And maybe a little Brandy afterwards. But I don’t care so much for the taste of the Brandy,” I added.
“I have the perfect drink for you Lola. It’s a real girl’s drink. Cherry Liqueur with Grape Brandy. Very sweet but with a nice little kick,” he smiled as he mixed the drink in a large decanter and brought it to me.
He mixed one for himself and then held up a pretty good sized joint. “I’ll put this away if smoking marijuana offends you Lola,” Andrea said.
“Oh no. Why would that offend me, Andrea? I’ve smoked pot. Most kids around Hollywood have smoked pot,” I said as he immediately lit the joint.
We passed the joint back and forth and sipped our drinks. Looking at Andrea’s pretty face was making me hot and horny. His eyes glazed over and he batted his mascara coated lashes. We had moved over closer to each other to share the joint. Andrea was stubbing out the little roach that was left from the joint.
He looked at me with a cute smile. “Your hair is so pretty today Lola. Something is different, isn’t it?” Andrea asked.
“Yes. I went to Christophe’s yesterday and Mr. Dante put in highlights for me. I’m glad you like it. So, do you find me as attractive as all those other gorgeous models? I hope so. I’d be jealous if you didn’t, Andrea,” I flirted.
“Lola Maria, I simply find you just so ravishing. Everything about you is so beautiful Lola Maria. Starting with your name,” Andrea whispered.
“Then why don’t you kiss me, if you find me so beautiful?” I asked, leaning my face as close to his as I could.
Oh, and Andrea just kissed me ever so sweetly. And the fireworks went off in my head. It’s been quite some time since a sissy could turn me on the way Andrea did that day. These days I enjoy the sexual company of a very, masculine, man’s-man like my Alonso. Andrea Previn was barely a boy.
Still though, on that afternoon Andrea filled me up with a sexual longing that at 17 years-old I didn’t know existed. I was pretty much a sissy, mommy’s boy. Andrea, though hardly overflowing with maleness, was much more sexually experienced than me, even in sissy-to-sissy love.
I’ve known sweet lesbian love, and that lady-to-lady love, was very much like Andrea’s moist, sexy, lipstick-coated, kiss that day. But what did I know? I was a sissy, girly-girl about to have her first real sexual experience. No more playing kissy-face with Mother’s girlfriend’s daughters. This was so surreal to me.
We kissed for a long time. Our excited tongues touched, titillated and intertwined with each other. When we finally broke away from what was just an absolutely breathless kiss, Andrea began to unbutton my pretty, sky-blue, high-collar, ruffled blouse. My eyes were glazed over.
I was totally smitten by this gorgeous sissy-boy. The alcohol and the pot, took me over the top. He could do anything with me that day and he did. He began to suck, lightly bite and nibble at the aureoles of my tit nipples. I really didn’t even have boy-boobs then. I’d already begun to want real, girlish tits, though.
But to even have that sensuous part of my body stimulated was very erotic for me. Face it, I was a virgin, sissy. I wrapped my arms around him and let out a deep, deep breathe. “Oh, Andrea, that is so nice. Is there anywhere where we could lay down and enjoy each other?” I whispered, sexily.
“Of course Lola Maria. I was about to ask you if you’d like to come to my boudoir, with me?” Andrea said, taking my hand and pulling me towards his boudoir. Andrea using the word “Boudoir” that day was very telling as to what sex “she” most strongly identified with.
It was certainly an opulent boudoir. Pictures of Andrea and his sister, along with photos of other models, both male and female graced the walls. The closets and dressers were opened, and overflowing with girly fashions. Either Andrea’s sister kept a lot of her clothing in Andrea’s boudoir or Andrea owned some very lovely dresses and gowns?
I’ve seen Andrea on the Red Carpet recently and I know he/she owns some truly sensational dresses as well as some stunning gowns. Along with Andrea’s collection of fabulous cosmetics, her own beautiful blonde hair, her long legs and stiletto heels, she can often be the most photographed girl at the Academy Awards.
Andrea removed my gorgeous Lulu Fontaine blouse and hung it up so nicely. Then, with me seated on the bed, he slid my A-Line, box-pleated skirt, down, my soft, smooth, shaven legs. When he slid my stiletto heels and panty hose off, my erect cock sprung to life. He touched it and he felt my swollen balls.
“That’s not fair, Andrea honey. I want to see your’s. It’s only right,” I teased.
He kicked off his kitten heels and slid down his Spandex slacks and frilly panties. His cock and balls looked really nice and not too intimidating. I took hold of his cock, just as he gently pushed me to the bed and fell on top of me. Andrea then smothered me with firm, moist, sexy kisses.
Andrea was a very good kisser. As we played with each other’s genitals we both became hard. I was pretty much rock-hard. Andrea? Not so much. The telltale signs of two, newly sprouting breasts, at his pecs, where I was now flat, might have been the clue?
But back then, I’d yet to investigate Estrogen or T-blockers, though, I would soon be on that path. For now I was satisfied that if I took Andrea’s cock in my mouth everything would be beautiful. He had such a sexy body. It was smooth, shaved and waxed just like mine.
And he smelled so nice. Like me his body was prettily scented with lotions, powders and perfumes. His bush, around his cock was pretty and heart-shaped. I licked his cock first and then sucked his balls gently before I took his cock in my mouth.
He mewled just like a girl. So pretty! I played with his balls while I sucked him. He was whimpering and almost crying when he finally exploded into my mouth. I instinctively swallowed every bit of his sperm as if it was the sweet liqueur drink he’d mixed for me.
We cuddled up like two girls and kissed each other on the lips. I played with his small, new tits and was fascinated by them. He then asked me if I wanted to screw him, or if I wanted him to blow me?
“I hadn’t thought about it? Would I fit inside you? By the way, you’re growing boobs? How and how come?” I asked.
“One thing at a time, my curious, cute, little doll. I began estrogen shots and tablets along with infused creams and lotions, a few months ago. I get then from a GYN who counsels transgenders. From her I also acquired some dilators and plugs to stretch my asshole. Gender Confirmation surgery recipients use the same implements to open and stretch out their new pussies,” Andrea explained.
“I want to grow boobs so I will look more like the girl models I’m competing against. The drugs also soften your skin and they help you more strongly identify emotionally with the female sex. Are you interested? I could give you Dawn’s card. You could go to see her,” Andrea offered.
“As far as you fitting inside of me? I’m certain you’d fit with some lubricant,” he added.
“Yes, I’d be interested in seeing Dawn, who ever she is. And okay. I’d love to fuck you,” I smiled.
Andrea began to ready me, with a nice, very professional blow job. It was obvious he was skilled. Just an amazing cocksucker. When I was erect and nearly bursting at the seams, he lubricated me and I helped him grease up his rectum. Then he got on all fours and offered up his ass-pussy to me.
He was correct. With only a little pushing and grunting on his part, I slid into his anus without very much trouble at all. Andrea then showed me how to slowly follow the pace he set. I slid in and out so nicely. I was rigid and excited. Then my marvelous lover asked me a question.
“Would you like me to get on my back, my kitten? Then I could wrap my legs around you just like a real girl does, when she gets screwed?” Andrea asked so sexily.
If you’ve ever seen Andrea in a short skirt, or a skirt with a split down the side, you know this girl has the most amazing set of legs on the runway. I voiced my consent and slid out of her ass. Then she laid on her back smiling, holding her arms out to me.
“Come to Mummy, dearie. She will care for you, muffin. That’s it kitten, I’m all oiled up nicely for you. Oh yes Lola. Put that nice stiff cock in me,” Andrea said gleefully as I slid inside her.
Then the fun really started as those amazing legs wrapped around my waist tightly and squeezed me so snugly. Both Andrea and I really came alive. She seemed to enjoy being screwed while laying flat on her back. I began to slide my cock in and out of her. Andrea panted loudly and started to emit these girlish gasps and little screams.
Her little squeals of delight began to get louder. Her gasps became more desperate and it sounded as if she were crying. “Oh no! Oh yes! Keep doing it to me? Oh please don’t stop? Oh my heavens!” Andrea cried out.
It all became too much for me. I was really taking off, “Oh Andrea. I’m coming!” I gasped excitedly, as I began to squirt streams of sperm into her rectum.
“Oh good! Yes. Oh yes, fuck me honey! That’s so good. Oh gracious! Here I go!” Andrea screeched frantically and I could feel her vibrate, as her cock spurted semen all over my nice, flat belly. Oh it was wonderful. We humped and humped until we both ran out of stamina.
We just collapsed, with me on top of her. And we just laid there. Sticking together in a gooey, sticky, lovely mess. We separated momentarily and Andrea expertly took a tampon from her bedside table and slid it into her rectum. She took a sanitary napkin and quickly cleaned us both off.
Then she pulled me to her to cuddle, while she sobbed sweetly about how good she felt. “Oh that was so lovely Lola Maria. I’m so glad I decided to seduce you, my little flower. I thought you might be a virgin and you are. Aren’t you, my baby love?” Andrea cooed.
I admitted that yes, this was my very first time doing anything like this. She laughed softly and hugged me tighter to her. It was so startling. This pretty sissy boy that had seduced me earlier, was now cuddling with me as if we were now two girls. She was giddy. Her voice was softer and sweeter.
She tossed her hair away from her face. Then she asked me what I wanted to do for the rest of the day. I told her about my 6 P.M. dinner curfew and she teased me. “It sounds as if I just kidnapped a sissy, mommy’s girl, didn’t I, Lola?”
On the way to my Aunt Cynthia’s I looked over the business card Andrea gave me for Doctor Dawn Grantham, the GYN, Therapist and Transgender Counselor. I intended to contact her. I’d been living almost exclusively as a female for over six months now and I wanted to continue to explore that side of me more thoroughly.
When Andrea stopped her Miata in front of Auntie Cynthia’s drive, she leaned over and kissed me lovingly. “I’d like for us to get together again like we just did. I want to teach you some more things about being a girl, Lola Maria,” Andrea said.
“I’d like to learn more from you about that, Andrea. You’re a good teacher,” I smiled.
Over the next year, my modeling career began to take off on an ascending path. As a “Fontaine Girl” most of the shows I did, exhibiting the seasonal fashions, took place through the major cities on the West Coast. Though, on occasion, Lulu Fontaine would combine her “stable” with another fashion house and show her line on the East Coast and throughout Europe.
I finally made an appointment to see Doctor Dawn Grantham. She agreed that even though I was under 18 she could counsel me. Though, unless I became an emancipated minor or could get a parental/guardian signature, she couldn’t prescribe Estrogen for me.
“Lola, there is bootleg Estrogen out there, and there are transgender girls getting scrips from more than one doctor. I do not recommend you using bootleg medications or medication prescribed for other girls, though,” Dawn said.
Dawn did however help me with the procuring of a set of dilators. She knew why I wanted them and did caution me on their usage. The first chance I got, I got together with Andrea, to impose upon her for her expertise as to the proper insertion and use of the smallest of the dilators.
I stood upon a tall pair of heels in Andrea’s boudoir, my miniskirt pinned up and my panties around my ankles, holding onto a dresser. Andrea used one of her long, beautifully manicured fingers to lubricate my rectum.
“Now, along with me, just slowly rotate the dilator and use the clenching action of your ass cheeks to sort of suck the dilator into your ass. This dilator will soon become your very best little friend,” Andrea assured me.
“Oh wow! I don’t see how? Is it all the way in yet, Andrea?” I asked, nervously.
“Almost. There sweetie. Now just relax and take a deep, deep breath girlfriend. I call it my ‘little friend’ for a few reasons. One, when it’s there it reminds me that I am a girl and becoming more of a girl everyday. Not too many real boys mince around with a dilator plug stuffed up their asshole, honey-bun,” Andrea laughed.
“Plus, you will note that it adds the most delightful little wiggle to your walk. Use the hall mirror and just sashay for a moment. My sister and I practice our runway sashay in the same mirror. Check out your ass wiggle, now. You’ll look just adorable. Lastly, once you get used to it, you’ll find it can be very sexually stimulating,” Andrea smiled.
“Not to mention that whether you have a boyfriend, a sissy lover, or a girlfriend with a dildo, you’ll always be ready for some action,” she grinned.
Lulu Fontaine had recently worked a deal to show her Fall/Winter collection in New York and Paris with Versace. That was exciting. Also on the West Coast, people were now starting to ask more questions about who Lola Maria really was? There were enough people comparing me to my mother that I was glad to be going to New York and Paris.
Mother always did a really good job of deflecting gossip with her Cover Girl smile. I wasn’t quite as good. We’d always known that sooner or later the truth would come out. It was just a matter of time.
It was while we were in Paris that I found out that the rumors of Andrea having a European boyfriend were true. “Romeo” showed up at the arena in Gay Paris, where we were modeling the new lines. He and Andrea were smiling and arm in arm. I’m not sure if I was more jealous of Romeo or if I was jealous of Andrea because she had a boyfriend and I didn’t?
In any event, after exhausting myself thru numerous sashays down the runway, I was just so thrilled to return to our hotel, have a quick bite to eat, and then soak in the tub before I offered to give Auntie Cynthia a bath. As I had been doing, especially after a long day on a runway, I didn’t insert my butt-plug after my bath.
“Lola Maria. How sweet, you are? This reminds me of when your mother and I would give each other baths when I was on break from finishing school,” Aunt Cynthia recalled.
“You and mother gave each other baths when you were a teenager? How old was mother?” I asked.
“Oh, well, she’s nine years older. So if I was in my senior year, she would have been around twenty-seven. I don’t mind telling you I dated both boys and girls right thru college and beyond. I never cared about dumping a guy. But when I broke up with a girlfriend, I could become absolutely heart broken,” Aunt Cynthia reminisced.
“Sometimes I’d spend a portion of the break with Nana Muriel, your grand-mom. Then I’d drop in to see you and your mother. I think you were about 5 or 6 my last year at finishing school, before I began at an all girl’s college. Your mom would commiserate with me over my most recent breakup with a girlfriend,” Aunt Cynthia said.
“Eliza was always such a great big sister. She’d offer me a nice hot soak in the tub and a bottle, not just a glass, of white wine. Then we’d spend the night together. We’d never gotten to do that as little girls like most sisters. Not being nine years apart in age,” Aunt Cynthia added.
I guess I should tell you now, that being such a mommy’s boy, I’d still missed my mother when Aunt Cynthia and I traveled. Sometimes I’d go so far as to ask Aunt Cynthia if I could sleep in the same bed with her when we shared a hotel room.
“Of course you can precious. A lot of times me and my various roommates at finishing school, would sleep in the same bed because we were homesick. You can sleep with Auntie Cynthia anytime, girl,” Aunt Cynthia would say.
Tonight was one of those nights. I was so confused about my emotions over seeing Andrea with Romeo, together as a romantic couple. Plus I was going to ask Cynthia if she could help me with asking mother about going on Estrogen.
As I bathed Cynthia, I paid extra attention to soaping her breasts. She giggled as I rinsed them off. Then I lavished even more care upon her as I shampooed and conditioned her hair. I even combed thru her tangles and didn’t rinse out the conditioner.
While I toweled my aunt dry and helped her put lotion and moisturizer on her skin, I asked, “Auntie Cynthia. Could we get in bed together tonight and talk? I need to ask you something?” I said.
Of course sweetie. Why not bring some wine and maybe we can set each other’s hair, and do each other’s nails?” Cynthia asked.
Once we got into bed, we looked over some fashion mags and sipped wine. Finally I sighed and said, “Aunt Cynthia, I want to grow breasts. I’m seeing a transgender counselor, now. She’ll only prescribe Estrogen if I can get parental consent. I’ve been living as a girl exclusively for almost a year now. I want to go further,” I said.
“I can only say, I’m not surprised by any of this, at all, honey. I have always wondered how much of a girly spirit you had within you? I think I saw it when you were very young, when nobody else did?” Aunt Cynthia said.
“Let me explain. And yes, we’ll both talk to Eliza. I’d say it would be better for you to get prescribed Estrogen, with parental consent, rather than go any other route,” Auntie agreed.
“I don’t know when I first noticed it about you, but you had a very investigative curiosity about feminine things as far back as I can recall? You must have been seven or eight, maybe? You and your mother would come and visit Grandmother Muriel and I. You’d inevitably wind up in my boudoir sitting at my vanity,” Aunt Cynthia smiled.
“If I’d sit down to do my makeup, because we were going out somewhere, you’d ask me questions about the makeup I was putting on. You had a true fascination with cosmetics. Always. If Eliza and I went to the beauty parlor you’d want to come, instead of staying with Grandmother. Do you recall any of this Lola?” Aunt Cynthia asked.
“Not really clearly, but it explains a lot of things today. I know I always identified very strongly with the female sex. I never really hung out with a crowd of guys. I liked girls and if I kissed one I’d get aroused but I never could take the initiative to push things any further than kissing,” I agreed.
I inadvertently leaned my head against Cynthia’s left breast. I don’t what got into me, but I said to Cynthia, “Oh, your breast feels so nice against my face. Could I look at your bosom again, Aunt Cynthia? You know, I think I want to get implants also,” I said.
“Sure honey. I’m proud of my boobs. I always loved it when my lovers would kiss, touch or nibble my tits,” Cynthia said, pulling her baby-doll top over her head to reveal a sensational set of perfect, C-cup breasts.
I smiled and ran my index finger in a circle around the nipple and aureole of the breast nearest me. Cynthia sighed and smiled. Then she closed her eyes and leaned back on her pillow, which was propped up against the headboard. She exhaled deeply and whispered, “Oh yes honey. Just like me and Eliza. So nice, girl.”
Impulsively, I puckered my mouth and used my lips to surround her tit nipple. I sucked lightly and used my tongue to lick her breast. She squirmed, giggled and smiled, her eyes still closed. I wondered if she would soon come to her senses and tell me to stop?
But she never did, even when I raised myself up, threw my legs over her torso and kissed her directly on the lips. Instead of being startled she wrapped her arms around me and kissed me right back. From there, I slipped my negligee over my head and crawled under the covers with Cynthia.
Then Cynthia really came alive as both her hands surrounded my cock and balls. I got an erection pretty quickly. I always had when kissing girls. I was just always too immature emotionally to go any further. Possibly had a female ever took the lead with me, I might have had sex. But none had ever done that.
Even backstage after a show or a shoot, if any of the models had come on to me, I was always too self-conscious to carry the the flirtation any further. Tonight I wouldn’t have that chance. My Aunt Cynthia would assuredly take the lead from here on.
“Oh, this is nice and hard, for a pretty girly-boy’s cock. I could do a lot with this I think, but my pussy needs some attention first. Have you ever eaten any pussy Lola? I didn’t think so. That’s okay girl. That’s what Aunties are for. We show our little sissy mommy’s girls how to suck pussy,” she laughed.
“Can you feel this? Yes? Make sure. Well that’s my clitoris. Feel it good. Now, I want you to put your pretty little mouth on my clit and make me very happy. It’s best to use your tongue to lick it, your lips to kiss and suck it, and your fingers to put light pressure on it honey. Don’t worry. You can’t go wrong. Auntie will teach you,” Cynthia said.
“Oh. Good girl. That’s nice. You have a very special feminine heart and mind, baby. I think you’ll do well at this. That’s good. No in fact it’s great, sweetie. Aunt Cynthia won’t have to show you too much tonight, will she?” Cynthia added as I treated her pussy as if it were my own cock.
Cynthia began sighing and breathing more heavily. Her eyes had this dreamy look, every time I looked up to see how she was doing. I surmised I was doing a good job eating her pussy. I’d never quite think her as “Aunt” Cynthia again. From then on, unless mother or Grandmother Muriel was present, I’d simply call her Cynthia.
She began to make mewling noises, so I assumed she was very close to a climax, and I redoubled my efforts. I was correct as she now stiffened her muscles and cautioned me, “Keep doing what you are doing girl. I love this so much. Oh, Lola honey you are fantastic, baby!”
I enjoyed hearing that. I continued to lick, suck and pucker my fat lips around her clitoris. She stiffened one last time and her legs began to spasm. She cried out, “Oh geez. What a good little cunt-licker you are! Oh my!” Cynthia shouted as she orgasmed, long and hard.
My face was covered with her girly juices and my makeup was really smeared. I was still rock-hard as we held each other. “I guess I need to reward you for what you just did? Honey, you need to get on all fours so your new girlfriend Cynthia can do something about that pecker of your’s,” Cynthia said.
She took a pretty nice sized vibrator out from underneath her pillow. “I call this, ‘My little friend,” she laughed.
She put a nicely lubricated finger up my ass. Then she lubed the vibrator prior to starting it. Cynthia then moved the vibrator in and out of my rectum as she massaged my erect penis. It was just so very, heavenly! Such a rush!
I’d never had very much sexual self-control. I really think that if I had attempted to live my life as a straight, heterosexual male, I might have been pretty good at eating pussy, but I wouldn’t have lasted very long with my penis inside of a female’s vagina. Cynthia had me panting like the sissy-girl I really was.
I finally gushed all of my semen all over the bedsheets, as Cynthia laughingly and lovingly teased me. “Oh, just look at me sweet girly girl, squirting all her sissy-juice everywhere?” Cynthia cooed.
I collapsed, completely out of breath. My eyes rolled back into my head. Cynthia kissed me on my mouth and rubbed my tummy. “Such a good girl. Well it looks as if we didn’t get to do each other’s hair and nails did we, honey? Well that will be okay, won’t it? Another time, maybe?” Cynthia asked.
For the remainder of the European and East Coast trip we were lovers. As we jetted back to the West Coast in First Class, I leaned my head onto Cynthia’s shoulder.
“This was a very nice trip. And you know what I mean when I say it was very special. We won’t be doing this together much longer, Lola. When you turn eighteen you won’t be needing a chaperone. That isn’t too far off, is it? Pretty soon, your body will be changing and becoming more feminine. You might be starting to think more about boys, like Andrea does now?” Cynthia reminded me.
“When your breasts get bigger, you’ll be becoming more desirable to both men and women. You already are. I see how people look at you. What’s going to happen when your figure becomes more womanly? You’ve got what they call Bedroom Eyes, Lola. Men like that,” Cynthia explained.
“We both know we can’t continue on as lovers. That would complicate matters for far too many people. I’ve been out of circulation far too long. I’m going to begin cruising for a female that has a long-term relationship on her mind. First order of business though is to have a family conference about getting you on Estrogen,” Cynthia smiled.
“I’ll miss you Cynthia. I almost want to cry. I understand though. Maybe I’ll be looking for a man soon, that is looking for a long term girlfriend?” I laughed.
“Maybe you will find someone? And never worry about crying girl. It’s a girly thing and it’s what we do. And remember. You’re a girl, now and becoming a lady,” Cynthia added.
Chapter IV: The Flower in Bloom
The discussion of me getting a prescription for Estrogen and possibly getting implants down the road went much better than I could have ever predicted. Cynthia decided to include her and mom’s mother, my Grandmother, Muriel. She really hadn’t seen me since I’d went so girly.
Though in her early 60’s “Nana” Muriel was very forward thinking. Cynthia had prepared Nana to finally meet me as Lola Maria. She was so cool about it. She gave me a big hug and kiss. Then she stood back and took a good look at me.
“Well, I’m glad I have finally gotten to meet my new grand-daughter. It’s about time. Maybe now, we can go clothes shopping and to the beauty parlor together? Now, what’s this? You need to do something about that figure young lady. You need some help up top,” Nana said, looking at my mother.
“Well I knew this had to come up soon enough. Lola, if you’re certain of this, I’ll go with you the next time you see your GYN. I’ll sign whatever needs to be signed. You’ll be eighteen very shortly, anyway. I would hope, before you get breast augmentation, that you adjust to the Estrogen first?” Mother requested.
I began to love the way the Estrogen made me feel, especially after each monthly booster. I’d get all gooey and gushy inside. I spoke with Andrea about it.
“Isn’t it fantastic? I love sex with Romeo the evening after I get a booster. You need a boyfriend girl,” Andrea teased.
I’d would eventually get a boyfriend. But, I’d somehow land a girlfriend first. Right after I’d turned eighteen I went to an attorney recommended by Katy Royale, my agent. I applied to have my name legally changed to Lola Maria Lafleur. It means, “The Flower.”
I found it very apropos. I had only just turned eighteen, when Mother and I finally met with Katy Royale and Lulu Fontaine at Fontaine fashions. Mother asked for the meeting.
“I want Lola Maria to come out. I spoke with the studio I’m with. They’ll be releasing the new film I did with Jasmine Laurent. The studio thinks, that, if anything the publicity generated will boost interest in the movie premiere,” mother said.
“I couldn’t agree more. A former cover girl, cum actress’s son, becomes a transgendered model. We could run some of those mock, Mother/Daughter shots you two used to do. Plus we could take some today for comparison,” Lulu agreed.
“Why not do a presser?” Katy asked.
So we did. Lulu held it at her fashion house headquarters. Lulu spoke first.
“I know there has been lot of talk, and a lot of rumors about who our newest Transgender model, Lola Maria, actually was. A lot of you thought she could be, Leo Henley, the son of Eliza Henley. As you can see Lola Maria and Eliza Henley are sitting behind me, ready to speak. So I think you might be correct?” Lulu smiled.
As murmurs began and questions flew, Lulu held up her hand. “I’m not taking questions just now. Lola Maria is going to speak and then Eliza. Lola honey?” Lulu said.
“Hello. Yes, I was once, the person known as Leo Henley. When I began this journey as Lola Maria, it was fun. Then I realized I liked being Lola, much more than I’d ever enjoyed being Leo. In any event, I’ve now decided to transition further into being Lola Maria. I’ve begun hormone therapy. I’m taking Estrogen and growing a female bosom. I intend at some juncture to undergo breast implant surgery,” I explained.
“I’ve also legally changed my name to Lola Maria Lafleur. I can take a couple of questions. Yes, you sir?” I said, picking out a really cute guy.
“Steve Brody, Hollywood Press. Lola. Along with your hormone replacement and bust improvement, do you plan on undergoing Gender Confirmation Surgery?” Steve asked.
“Not at this time Steve. I’ll leave that decision for another time. I don’t think I’m quite there yet. But, don’t you think I can still be one, hot, sexy chick?” I asked, to plenty of laughter.
“Yes ma’am?” I said to a very striking Eurasian girl with a really perfect, long, inverted, bob.
“Kelly Yang, the Beverly Hills Modiste. Ms. Lafleur. At present, do you have a love interest? Either a boyfriend or girlfriend?” Kelly asked.
“No Kelly. I do not have anyone at all who is special in my life right now. But, if you’re interested Kelly, how about coffee later? Mother, did you have anything you’d like to say?” I asked. Plenty of people liked my faux come on, to Kelly, and laughed,
Mother, really hit a home run with what she had to say. “Unlike a lot of mothers, I have had the privilege of raising a son until he was sixteen. And now I get to watch the same wonderful person grow into being a beautiful daughter right before my eyes. I fully support anything Lola Maria decides to do. I always will. Now and into her future,” Mother paused.
“Right now, I’m pretty emotional and don’t think I’d care to answer too many questions. I’ll refer any other questions to Lola and Lulu,” mother closed.
Once the presser was over, I was gathering a few things and I heard a female voice say, “Ms. Lafleur? Lola? Hi, it’s Kelly Yang. Were you serious about that coffee?” Kelly asked.
I turned and it looked to me like she’d just freshened her lipstick. I smiled at her. “Hmm? Why not? I came with my mother. I’ll assume it was going to be coffee with just you and I?” I asked.
“Well. I don’t think your mother appeared to want to do coffee with a reporter?” Kelly stated.
“Good answer Kelly. You’re driving?” I asked.
“Of course. I’ll take you anywhere you like afterwards,” Kelly said.
After letting mother know what was up, I went to the ladies’ room and fixed my face. I was glad I now had something to put inside a bra. I hoped to have more, soon. Then I found Kelly and she drove us over to, “Cocoa Vaughn’s” a new coffee shop over in Laurel Canyon, near where Kelly said she lived.
“So you reside here in the Canyon, Kelly? It’s pretty pricey around here, isn’t it? I shrugged.
“What can I say? I graduated from UCLA with a Bachelor’s. I have a major in Journalism and a minor in Fashion Design. I’m back in school, part-time getting my Master’s. I live at my parent’s house. Well, I’m their house-sitter, anyway,” she said.
“They’re always traveling. They’re loaded, financially. This is the only way, right now, I can fulfill a dream. I want to go to work as a writer for a major Woman’s Fashion and Beauty Magazine,” she added.
“My goal is to work my way to Fashion Editor. I’m just obsessed with Fashion Models, especially adventurous girls like you. You are super-special to me Lola Maria. In fact, I’d like to do a one on one up close and personal interview with you for the Modiste, if I could?” Kelly asked.
“I’m truly humbled you’d say that and ask, Kelly. How could I say no?” I shrugged.
“Why not come over the Canyon with me then? I’ll show you around their place. It really is gorgeous,” she said excitedly.
“Care for a little wine and maybe some pot?” Kelly asked as she opened the door to her parent’s home and dropped her purse and laptop on the couch.
“Doesn’t sound like a bad idea. I need to get used to being eighteen, with no curfew or chaperone, anyway,” I smiled.
“That’s the truth girl. I mean if you get too loaded, just spend the night, right?” Kelly laughed.
We sat pretty close together on the couch, to share the joint. The wine worked nicely to cool the smoke. It was killer Mexican weed from Michoacan. Kelly’s eyes looked really dreamy. Then she leaned over and kissed me, sexily blowing the smoke from her mouth into mine.
I coughed, giggled and then asked, “Is this what you meant by ‘Up close and personal’ Kelly? Because if it is, I like it.”
I reached over and began to unbutton her blouse. She took it the rest of the way off and I reached behind her to unsnap her bra. I sucked on one set of nipples right away.
“These are nice tits. Maybe I’ll have mine done like this?” I teased.
“Well honey, you are all girl. You got my bra off in seconds. No clumsy-assed guy could ever get a brassiere off that quickly,” Kelly laughed as she took my top and then my new bra off.
“These are growing out pretty nice with just the Estrogen alone, girl. I like them. Why don’t we get off of this couch and into my bed?” Kelly asked.
It really was a very quick start to what would become a pretty hot relationship for both of us. Kelly and I hit it off, emotionally, mentally, spiritually, not to mention physically, from the get go. As soon as we fell into bed, it was like magic.
The kissing, the touching, the embracing and the sexual manipulations were explosive. I felt like I was on fire, almost instantly. And it only got a lot better for a while. I licked her puss like it was covered in Maraschino cherries. Kelly was like a box of firecrackers. She had these little volatile fuses all over her lithe, sensuous body.
There was no part of her that I could touch, lick, kiss or suck, that wouldn’t get her stirred into a sexual frenzy. Whether it was my fingers in her rectum, my mouth on her clit, my tongue up her vagina or my teeth on her tit nipples, Kelly was soaring.
And oh, did she love her collection of vibrators and dildos? Oh my gracious. That first time we made love, after I’d sucked her pussy, she got out a dildo and vibrator. She had me get into the classic “sixty-nine” position with her, on her bed. She was the “top” and I was the “bottom.”
In fact that was the way it was for us all along. Kelly was just naturally, always the “Butch” in our relationship. And I’d forever be her “femme.” With Kelly’s puss over my face, I slid the dildo in and out of her cunt. At the same time, Kelly stared down at my shrinking sissy-cock, and rotated the humming vibrator in and out of my asshole.
It was sensational. As I watched the pussy juices and the lubricant oozing out of Kelly’s snatch, I was being taken to the point of no return by Kelly’s expert manipulations with the vibrator. I was actually on the verge of asking her to stop when she contacted my prostate and just sent me into orbit around the moon.
It was really that good. But, as wild and maddening as Kelly was when making love, she was as sensitive, caring and heartfelt in the aftermath of lovemaking. She’d kiss and lick my face and eyes, as well run her fingers thru my hair and tell me how beautiful I was.
And after she had an unusually strong orgasm, she might melt into my arms, sobbing and telling me how wonderful a lover I was, and how much I meant to her. For a time, Kelly and I were inseparable. We went everywhere together. No matter whether it was a fashion show or a shoot, Kelly was there.
She’d help me change, she’d tell the hairdressers how I should look, she’d fix my lipstick or tie a bow into my hair. She was like a stage mother with a ten-year-old beauty pageant contestant. On long flights she’d get the travel agent at Lulu Fontaine’s to take her credit card number so she could sit next to me in First-class.
The summer I turned nineteen and had my implants put in, my mother had wanted to hire a nurse to care for me during my recovery. Kelly insisted she and mother could handle it.
“Eliza, I don’t have any classes until the second summer semester. As far as the magazine goes, as long as the interviews get done and the articles get written, my hours are flexible,” Kelly insisted.
And she did it. It seemed like she was constantly by my side. She kept me clean and fresh. She made sure I took all my medications. She spoon fed me and even held a little kid’s sipping-cup up to my lips when I asked her to get me some water.
She was so very tender, loving and caring. I found myself thinking I was in love. Even my mother thought so. “Lola Maria. Maybe Kelly is who you’ve been looking for all along, honey?” Mother intoned.
It was certainly possible. I’ve heard people say that relationships like mine and Kelly’s that start off like a rocket-ship to Mars, sometimes crash and burn to earth. It almost happened like that. I’m glad it did not. I’m glad we patched things up quickly and remained friends.
In many ways we still love each other too. Alonso, my husband, adores Kelly. And Kelly and I want the best for each other. It all happened at the Hollywood Premiere showing of mother’s second picture with Jasmine Laurent. Jasmine had liked the chemistry she and mother had during the first film. She went so far as demand mother be her supporting actress for her next film.
During their first picture together, mother had played Jasmine’s older sister. In this next movie my mother was to play Jasmine’s mother. Mother was hesitant at first, concerned she might be typecast in that sort of role. An actress older than mother advised mother otherwise.
“I’ve been doing roles like that for sometime now Eliza. Hollywood is changing rapidly. Even a senior like me, now gets the role of the leading lady. Do it. The director is great and from looking at the script, your character can be played even more dynamically than Jasmine’s,” Helene Beckett added.
The Hollywood Premiere showing was fantastic. The reviews by people in the theater alone, were more than encouraging. The studio had timed the showing to occur just prior to the Oscar nominations. Mother’s performance was enormously grand. We were all excited.
Kelly and I had walked the Red Carpet arm-in-arm. Kelly had demanded we do the “Butch and Femme” thing to the hilt as long as we were going as a couple. She was actually toned down more than I expected. Yes, she did wear a mannishly cut tux and a bow-tie.
The tux mostly obscured her breasts. But she also wore a pair of kitten heels, full, obvious makeup, pearl studs in her ears and her long bob was stylish and shiny. On the other hand I was as glamorously femme as I could have possibly been. I wore a gold lame, fishtail, hobble gown.
I took the tiniest of mincing steps in my five-inch, stiletto heels and due to the ridiculously tight, restrictive hem of my dress. My underwired uplift bra gave my new, B+ Cup implants an outrageously plump look. My updo was totally Hollywood as was my makeup.
The updo was a completely “high-lift” affair, complete with a swirling frond of curls, set-off by a cascade of spirally tendrils falling recklessly along either side of my vividly painted face. I had recently had striking, Burgundy highlights put in my Dark-Brunette hair.
My makeup was purely striking, and truly brilliant. To begin, my eyebrows were extremely high-arched, and gave me such a wide-eyed, vacant look. My mascara was deep, rich and enhancing. The rose shade on my eyes and cheeks shimmered in the stage lighting. Most of all my plum lipstick looked nearly black. My collagen pumped lips really stood out. Anyone could easily tell who the girl was in our relationship.
When we got to the interview area prior to going into the theater, Kelly answered all but one question. I remained quiet and docile, holding tightly to my dainty, silver, clutch, makeup bag. If they asked me almost anything I would look to Kelly and titter.
Until someone asked me, “Do you think your mother has any chance at the Best Supporting Actress Oscar?”
“Well, it’s much too early to really tell about that. I haven’t seen this film, yet. The reviews aren’t in. Plus the nominations aren’t even out yet. But, from what I’ve heard around town, Jasmine Laurent and the director gave my mother what amounted to, the meatiest role in this film,” I said.
“The woman she plays, is a sort of Tennessee Williams neurotic mother, with real issues to resolve. I just know I’m hoping for the best for the film, for Jasmine, for my mother of course, and for everyone associated with the production,” I closed, before we went into the theater.
After the excitement of the showing was over, Kelly and I strolled across the lobby, dodging interviews and finally landed in the vast meeting room where the buffet was. We were together much of the time, there. Working for the Hills Modiste mag, she knew many of the same people I knew.
Kelly tapped me on the arm and said she was going somewhere to do something, but I really didn’t hear her thru all the noise and I simply nodded. She didn’t return right away and soon enough, mother was tugging on my arm. “Lola. Lola Maria, I want to introduce you to someone. Come with me,” mother asked.
In the lobby, she pointed to one of the most handsome men I’d ever seen. Even to this day. “Honey, this is Alonso Pascale. He’s a director. He loved the movie and what I did. He’s mentioned he wants me to read the script for a movie he’s casting. He said I’d work well for the leading lady,” mother said, winking.
“He’s wanted to meet you ever since he first saw you modeling, in Paris. So I’ll leave the two of you alone. Oh, I forgot. Alonso, this is my daughter, Lola Maria Lafleur,” mother laughed at her faux pas.
“I’m enchanted to meet you at long last Lola Maria,” Alonso smiled as he reached out and touched my hand.
I was momentarily speechless and had even, selfishly forgotten about Kelly. Alonso’s dark, swarthy looks were just so very enticing. His build was taut and muscular, though tallish, slim and athletic at the same time. To me, he just seemed to be all-man. What interest would he have in a trans-girl, like me?
It couldn’t possibly be sexual, could it? He offered to get me a drink. Hoping to sound sophisticated I asked for a glass of Courvoisier. He returned with a large drink for each of us. The Courvoisier was more tasteful than I had expected. I began to sip it more quickly than I usually drank alcohol.
I guess it was the mood of the evening? First, it was a big Hollywood Premiere. I’d went with my current love interest in formal, glam attire. Then I was introduced to a very handsome, Italian director, who spoke to me in perfect English, but with a sexy, European accent.
When booze goes to my head I get terribly flirtatious. Alonso was being flirtatious enough for both of us. He put his hand on my arm and I leaned into him with one of my breasts, laughing and giggling. Then I did it. I got too close and I gave him an impulsive, quick peck on the lips.
He didn’t bat an eye. He pulled me into him slowly, by taking hold of me very gently under both of my elbows. Our faces were inches from each other, smiling. After two more sips of Cognac, I was cheek to cheek with Alonso, laughing and he was asking me if I’d like to hit some show clubs with him.
“Oh. I’d forgotten. I don’t know how either? But I came with someone. A female friend. A close female friend,” I said, looking around for Kelly and recalling I’d last seen her in another room at the buffet.
“I know. Your mother told me. Plus I saw the two of you together on the Red Carpet. A beautiful Eurasian girl. Correct? It appeared to me she went home early. I saw her head out of the theater entrance about ten minutes ago,” Alonso said.
“That can’t be? She’s my ride. Maybe I should call her? I wonder why she didn’t contact me? I hope everything is okay?” I said.
Then, I realized my cell-phone was turned off. Before I could text or call her, Kelly’s text popped up. It wasn’t good.
“I’m sorry but I have to leave. I just can’t believe this Lola? I only left you alone for a little over twenty minutes. I went to use the ladies’ room. Upon leaving the ladies’ room I ran into an old friend from UCLA. We talked about a lot of stuff and suddenly I recalled I left you at the buffet,” the text began.
“When I got there you were gone and then someone recognized me and said you’d went into the lobby with your Mother. When I did locate you, a really good looking guy was flirting with you and you were flirting right back. You even kissed him. I’m upset and it’s better we don’t talk about this right now,” Kelly added.
“Good night and have a nice time with your new boyfriend Lola. Don’t call me. I won’t be calling you anytime soon,” Kelly closed.
“Is everything okay?” Alonso asked.
I hesitated before answering. “She had to leave. She’d gotten a headache. She sometimes get’s migraine’s when she watches movies on a big screen. But she said she was okay to drive. I guess we could hit those clubs?” I said, mostly lying.
On the drive over to the Grande Dancer, I thought it best not to contact Kelly right now. I realized I should have texted her right away when mother took me to meet Alonso but I just wasn’t thinking. Even as hot as Alonso was to me, I could have still put this evening off for another night, couldn’t I?
But, it was too late for that right now. I had one more Courvoisier at Grande’s. By then Alonso was all over me at a corner table. We were kissing passionately and as people sometimes say, “It was time to get a room.”
Alonso knew it and said, “Where should I take you? Your place or mine?”
“Considering I still live with my Mommy, I think we need to go to your place,” I slurred slightly.
I was far from smashed, but I had really hot pants for this guy and I planned on acting on that impulse. During the drive to his grandiose home in the Hollywood Hills, I asked him, “How much do you know about me, Alonso? Are you aware of the fact that I wasn’t born a female?”
“Of course I am. Your mother discussed that with me. Of course I already knew you were transgender. I read about that when you began modeling,” Alonso stated.
“Okay. Then do you know the degree of transgender that I am? Are you aware that when you remove my panties there may be a few surprises behind Door A?” I asked.
“Yes. The way you just described things was humorous. I like you Lola. Very much. You are an exceptionally intriguing young lady. I think we will get along quite well. And you are beautiful beyond compare. You dressed so exotically for this evening,” Alonso said.
He gave me a tour of his amazingly opulent home. I wasn’t quite certain if he was trying to impress me, but when he compared his Hollywood home, to his home in Italy and to his home in Spain, I certainly was stirred. He offered me another drink and I declined.
“What I would like though, is a kiss,” I said as I moved towards him and stopped. I had my tits pushing against his chest and my hands at his waist. We kissed long and hard. When we stopped he spoke.
“I know you are nineteen. I know you live with your mother. I have a nineteen year old daughter who lives with her mother in Italy. If she lived with me and did not come home by a certain hour I would be concerned,” Alonso explained.
“Do both me and Eliza a favor, and at the very least text her. Let her know where you are and who you are with. Please, Lola?” Alonso asked.
“That’s so thoughtful and gentlemanly of you Alonso. How could I possibly refuse?” I asked.
“Mother. I’m with Alonso at his house in Hollywood Hills. Don’t wait up. I’ll see you in the morning. Love you. Lola,” I texted.
Before I could shut the cell off, she texted me back with an intriguing response. “That’s fantastic, baby. Have lots of fun! See you tomorrow. Mother.”
“Well handsome. She told me to have lots of fun. I fully intend to. How about another sexy kiss?” I asked.
“Lola. You don’t mince words. You are very forward, when you know what you want,” Alonso noticed.
“That’s correct, you big, hunky stud. I am a very, very, nasty, little girl. If you’re going to hang with me, you’ll need to get used to that,” I said as I jumped into his arms.
“Now, you don’t have any choice but to carry me into your bedroom,” I added.
He took me across the threshold to his room and playfully tossed me onto his bed. I rolled over and said, “You’ll need to unbutton this gown.”
Once he did that, I slid out of the gown, I kicked off my spike heels, took off my bra and then removed my lined panty. Then I removed my garters and hose. I wanted him to see me completely naked. No hidden surprises allowed for this girl.
He must have liked what he saw? He began to take off his clothes. I hadn’t put my rectal plug back in after my shower earlier during the day. I figured it would be difficult enough to walk with the tall heels and the hobble gown.
When he was naked, he laid down beside me on the bed. He then took me into his arms. He felt so strong! I just loved being in his arms. Up until then I’d had three other lovers. All female, the truth be told. Two genetic girls and a transgender lady.
It’s true, they were soft and gentle. But after I’d been with Alonso for one night, I knew a man could be gentle, too. But what I wanted after being with Alonso was to feel a man’s strength when he held me in his arms. I wanted that feeling of being safe, secure and protected.
And only a man can do that for me. Only a man can truly take real charge of the lovemaking and make me do things and feel things I never dreamed I could do and feel. I simply adore manly men. Sissies and females are a lot of fun. Men are just so sensational to have sex with.
Men take me places I’d normally be afraid to go. That’s what Alonso did for me and made me feel that night. When I finally took his prick in my mouth, and a small drop of salty discharge dripped onto my tongue I simply wanted him to explode up inside of me.
And it wasn’t my mouth I wanted him to explode into. I wanted his salty seed dripping out of my rectum. I sucked his prick as long as I could, and finally I asked him, “How do you want to take me? I want you to make me feel like a real female. And the only way I can feel that way is with your cock deep inside of me,” I gushed.
“My little flower. Come here. Let’s get you nice and lubricated along with my penis. Then sit on my lap facing me. This way I can screw you, we can kiss passionately and I can also lick your breasts, if you like. There are many ways we can have fun,” Alonso smiled.
“For instance, my love, I can fuck you between your breasts as you squeeze your breasts around my hard cock. And if you so desire, you can lick my cock at the same time,” Alonso explained.
What an amazing, sexual man! I loved these ideas.
“Oh Alonso! Let’s do the ass fuck with me facing you right now. Then, in the morning, we can do the tit and mouth fuck!” I happily exclaimed.
It was just so wonderful as he lifted me up and down upon his hard penis. He was very strong, and athletic, from the sports he played and the workouts he did in his free time. And such a virile man! As my ass went up and down upon his erect cock, I was filled with chills and rushes of pleasure.
“Oh Alonso, I never knew lovemaking could be like this. Yum. Kiss me again and again, you virile beast. Oh, I am so thrilled that I came home with you. I don’t want to leave here. Not now. Now ever. Now Alonso, now. Give me your seed. Make me a woman. Make me your woman!” I cried out as he ejaculated inside of me.
I bounced up and down rapidly, upon his stone hard penis as he shot his load within me. Then I felt myself shaking. He’d engaged my prostate with his piece of mighty man-meat and I squealed with delight. He’d reached my hot-spot and I spewed milky white discharge from my pretty sissy-clit.
I was so excited it was a wonder I didn’t hurt myself bouncing up and down upon his penis, in ecstasy. I slept like a baby that night. I slept the peaceful, dreamy, fulfilled sleep of a sated woman, who had finally been taken by a real man, in pure, lustful, satisfaction.
And when the first drops of sunlight, found their way into Alonso’s bedroom, I turned to my left and saw his hairy chest and the beautiful sight of his manly, morning erection. I crawled between his legs. I found the bottle of baby oil he’d used the night before to lubricate us. I lavished that sweetly scented oil all over and between my tits.
Then I put enough oil on his cock to make him stir. I squeezed my boobs around his cock and began to slide my oiled tits up and down, to give him a nice, “good morning” tit fuck. As I got into a nice rhythm, I then decided to lick the end of his vein, engorged cock.
“Lola Maria? Oh, wow. What a nice way to wake up,” Alonso gurgled.
“Good morning handsome man. I thought the same thing. You know I wish my tits were bigger?” I said.
“If you want bigger tits, Lola Maria. We can get you bigger tits. Just tell me what you want, Lola Maria and I will get it for you,” Alonso sighed.
“Well that sounds like fun. I think I would enjoy being your girlfriend?” I added.
“I would like you to be my girlfriend,” Alonso agreed.
“Well, we’ll have to work on that honey,” I laughed, as I licked around the head of his cock, as if I were licking the chocolate frosting off a cupcake.
I could feel him tensing as I watched the veins in his cock grow really large. I watched closely for the first signs of pre-cum to dribble from his penis. And when his cock began to jerk and spasm, I took a very healthy portion of him into my mouth and he began to spurt.
There is nothing like a healthy male orgasm early in the morning, unless it’s a healthy male orgasm in the early afternoon. Alonso really did explode, mightily. And I made certain that I got to gobble up every gooey, salty drop of his potent spunk.
We had breakfast and then I decided to call my mother.
“I’ll drive you home,” Alonso insisted.
“I’m not wearing a gown and tall high heels with an elaborate head full of curls and tendrils through the streets of Los Angeles, my dear. I’m having my mother bring me a skirt and blouse with some sensible kitten heels and I’m going to take a shower, right now,” I said.
When I got out of the shower and walked into the living area wearing one of Alonso’s oversized bathrobes, my mother was smiling and talking to Alonso.
"I brought you some clothes honey and I’ve already packed your other things into the car,” mother smiled and waved.
When we arrived home I knew what I had to do. I texted Kelly.
“Is it okay to call? I’ll understand if you don’t want me to,” I texted.
“Sure. You can call. I called out sick today,” Kelly texted back.
“Kelly. This is all on me. I should have tried to find you when mother came to get me,” I began.
“It’s okay Lola. Just come over. We can talk,” Kelly sighed.
When I got there we hugged. We didn’t kiss on the lips but we kissed on the cheeks and looked at each other.
“I understand Lola. I used to think, even when we were in bed together, that you really weren’t equipped to be in a long term relationship with a female. I don’t think you could truly be a lesbian. I think you like men all too much,” Kelly shrugged.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Sit down Lola and listen to me. Think about it. You told me, more than once, that as a teenaged boy, in junior high, and in high school, you had girlfriends. But never really one, romantic encounter, let alone a romantic relationship, with a girl,” Kelly pointed it.
“I think, even that far back, if you could have felt accepted, you would have rather had a boyfriend, to hold hands with and kiss. I can have sex with a guy, Lola. But I can’t stay with a guy long term. That’s just me,” Kelly shrugged.
“I think it’s just the opposite with you is all. Lola, I’m okay with what happened with us. For a time, I got to date a beautiful fashion model. I got to be her girlfriend and lover. I got to go everywhere with her and be seen with her, as part of a couple,” Kelly smiled.
“I’ll always love you Lola. I can’t help that. I hope you feel the same about me. I think we’ll always be close friends,” Kelly said.
“Oh thanks Kelly. You’re much too kind,” I smiled.
“I know. Give me a hug. That was nice. Lola did you sleep with him? Was he good? I know he’s very handsome,” Kelly added.
“Yes. I had sex with him. And he’s fantastic. And you’re right Kelly. I’m much better suited to be with a man, than I am being with a woman,” I agreed.
Later. Early in the evening of that same day, Alonso rang my cell-phone. “Oh Alonso! How nice! Yes, I had a simply wonderful time. Saturday night? Seven? Oh course. Pick me up at Mother’s? I’ll be ready,” I added.
And you can bet I was ready. I’m always ready for my Alonso.
Denouement
Over time, I’ve gotten used to sleeping on Alonso’s private jet, or any plane for that matter. After we touched down in Buenos Aires we went right to our hotel. I showered and took great care to lavish plenty of moisturizer and Estrogen creme on my very new, 36 D-cup breasts.
I’d had my second set of implants done four months prior to the wedding. I wanted them to be ready for the honeymoon. Models really never had big tits, but these days, even “Plus” sized models are fashionable. Of course Alonso loves my new tits.
Kelly, my former lover, and still a very close friend, with both Alonso and I, finally got a job with a major fashion publication. She keeps me abreast (no pun intended) of all the trends in the industry. I hope she gets that editors position she’s always coveted. And I hope she gets it soon.
It always helps to have friends in high places. My mother certainly believes that. Kelly really looked stunning as my Maid-of-Honor at my wedding. What a girlfriend she is. How many ex-lovers ever serve as a bridesmaid or Maid-of-Honor for anyone’s wedding?
We spent ten days in Buenos Aires on our honeymoon. Then we flew to Miami Beach for my birthday. Alonso planned a “Big surprise” for me in Miami.
You already know what a super girly-girl I can be. So you well know, that after a shower and some rest in Buenos, plus a meal and sex with Alonso, I planned a spa and salon day in Aires, starting the next morning, bright and early at 10 AM. My hair still had all that curl and wave Mister Mauricio, my mother’s stylist, put in at Christophe’s when he did my hair for my wedding.
Between the curlers, setting gel, the Updo, and all the curlicue’s, hairspray and spirals, I just wanted my sleek, elegant, fashion model look back. Especially if anyone spotted me in Argentina and wanted a few shots of me shopping or party hopping.
I really only get the very personal services done at salons where they know me and they know I’m a trans-girl. It might really cause an embarrassing moment if I was to get a massage or a bikini wax at a salon where I might be a complete stranger, if you know what I mean?
In any event, my Spanish being far from perfect, my language proficient husband called ahead for my appointment. When he got off the phone he said, “I booked you in at Carlo Vega’s. Hair, nails, facial and leg wax. The girl who booked you in is from the US. She knows who you are. But, still, keep your cache-sex and panty brief on for the wax,” he smiled.
“Honey, did you tell her I wanted a complete blow out? I’m tired of these curls,” I whined.
“Not so much. You can work this out. Her English is perfect, even if your’s isn’t. I’ll be at one of the nearby casinos while she’s making you beautiful,” Alonso added.
When we got to Carlo Vega’s the receptionist turned me over to Kimberley, the chick from the States. Alonso gave me a big kiss.
“Anything else you want them to do, tell them to put it on the bill, princess. Be a good girl and let me know about thirty minutes before you need to be picked up,” Alonso stated.
“Oh, that’s so cute. I love newlyweds. Wow, so I come all the way to Argentina and I get to work on Lola Maria Lafleur. Oh, is Lafleur still your last name?” Kimberley asked.
“For professional reasons it is. But, I changed my last name legally to Pascale. You know? I’m the submissive little Italian bride now?” I teased.
“Why don’t I zip your legs first Lola? Then I’ll get one of the girls to do your fingers and toes after I wash and condition your hair. You want your Long Bob completely blown out then?” Kimberley asked.
“Please. If I never see another curler, wave rod or hot roller as long as I live it won’t be too soon. Alonso is really flush, financially. I’ve done well. I really, sort of, don’t ever need to model for a while, or maybe ever again?” I said.
“But, I do love waltzing down the runway fantasizing that the entire fashion world is focused on me. Just between you and me? Anyway, I’m calling the shots for now. I’m still a Lulu Fontaine girl, but I now have it in my contract that I can model for any designer as long as Lulu gets a tiny piece of the action,” I added as Kim zipped my legs.
“So, a very sleek, Long Inverted Bob, or anything I decide to do with my hair is going to be my signature look. If they want to put a wig on me, okay sure. But no curlers, rods, pins, or rollers go in my hair. Plus, I decide on the color,” I added, as she began my shampoo.
“Well, I think your highlights look fantastic especially with this dark brunette. Is that your true color? Really? You have gorgeous hair. I don’t blame you, girlfriend. Carlotta? Can you do a mani/pedi on Ms. Lafleur? Thanks honey. She recognizes you Lola,” Kim smiled.
It was a gorgeous day to leave a salon and stroll down the grand avenue to meet Alonso at the casino. I’d worn the shortest mini I had, just to show off my long, freshly waxed legs. Nothing like it.
The honeymoon would have been exhausting, if it wasn’t for those refreshing nights in bed with Alonso. I wished I’d had a pussy for him to stick his cock into but that still might happen one day. For now he likes me just as I am and he’s my man and that’s that.
I looked forward to Miami Beach only because of the big surprise Alonso had promised me for my Twentieth Birthday. We arrived in Miami the night before I turned twenty. Early that morning I began to eagerly await my surprise. It wasn’t until around sundown that night, that I couldn’t imagine when it was happening and what it was?
We’d ordered room service. Alonso was in his pajamas. I was in a baby doll set covered up with a negligee. I was wearing full makeup with my hair blown nice and dry.
The food had been delivered. It was a buffet of shellfish and other seafood appetizer niceties, with chilled white wine. Then there was a knock on the door. “Well there is your birthday surprise. Happy birthday Lola!” Alonso said.
I knew Alonso well enough by then to think that it couldn’t possibly be something corny like a singing telegram of a lame candy or flower delivery. So, I went to the door and opened it. My mouth dropped open. She stood there in a fluffy collar, satin robe, high heels and full makeup. What a stunning, Eurasian vision she was.
It was my Kelly! Gorgeous Kelly. “Happy birthday Lola. Please let me in? I’m standing out here in a Jean Harlow robe and four-inch stilettos. Some guy might try and pick me up? How about a kiss Lola? On the mouth please?” Kelly asked.
I let Kelly in, and looked back at Alonso. He smiled and nodded. Kelly took off her robe and she wore nothing underneath but a brassiere and panties. Alonso helped me take off my negligee before Kelly, my ever faithful Butch lover, took me in her arms.
When she French kissed me aggressively, all the memories of our Lesbian lovemaking came flooding back. “Why don’t you ladies move over to one of the beds? I’ll bring over a tray of wine, cheese and grapes for you. And maybe some toys to play with?” Alonso asked.
Alonso, as promised, brought over the refreshments as well as a dildo, vibrator and some Love oil. Then he turned his back and went over to the middle of the room where the Bus-boy had set up the buffet. Kelly took a few grapes and fed me. Then she held up a wine glass and I sipped a little white.
After that, Kelly removed her bra and panties and I hesitantly slipped out of my Baby Doll top and bottom. But I wouldn’t hesitate much longer when Kelly pushed me to my back onto one of the large King beds in the hotel room, and really started to work on my new boobs.
“Wow. You certainly got some nice, big, new, tits didn’t you Lola? Yum. They taste good too. I’ll bet Alonso enjoys sucking on these babies?” Kelly said as I threw back my head and closed my eyes.
Kelly moved from my tits, down my tight, flat stomach to my genital area. With all the Estrogen in me, it wasn’t like I’d ever again be walking around with a big boner. However within the region around my shrinking cock and balls I still had an erogenous zone. And when Kelly started licking me there I could feel a real stirring in my loins.
“Oh wow Kelly. Do it to me honey. Oh baby, oh, what that does!” I gasped.
“So, the little girl still has something going on in her crotch area? I thought maybe it might be worth a trip to the surgeon to get this useless junk sliced off? Maybe not, huh, Lola?” Kelly teased.
Then Kelly began her vibrator magic. She lubed up my asshole, the vibrator, and my tiny cock and testicles, with baby oil. When she slid the vibrator up into my anus my back arched, my body shook and I gasped. What a wonderful birthday present this was going to be.
“Kelly honey, move your crotch over my face so I can lick your pussy,” I asked.
“I’ll worry about my pussy later, Birthday Girl. You just lay back and enjoy. Don’t get too rambunctious sissy-missy or I’ll have Alonso come over here and whack your fat little ass with his belt,” Kelly threatened.
I did just as she told me and loved every sexy minute of it. The feeling of the vibrator going deeper into my bung-hole and reaching my prostate was really nice. And when Kelly held the buzzing vibrator against my prostate and rotated it I could no longer hold back. I began to scream loudly and couldn’t stop. Gushes, rushes and waves of pleasure surrounded me.
I just felt so very special. What a loving thing for my new husband and my former Lesbian lover to do for me. When my screeching stopped I felt all sticky between my legs. I’d spurted some milky white juice from my pubes.
It was such a girly thing for me to do. While I whimpered in post-coital ecstasy, Kelly held me tightly and kissed all over me.
“Oh wow, Kelly, honey. I owe you baby. I owe you big time,” I sighed lovingly.
“You think so? Well why not have your Alonso eat my pussy for me? That would be nice,” Kelly said.
“Well, Alonso, can you help Kelly out? Here Kelly. I’ll move over,” I added.
“It would be my pleasure darling,” Alonso said, taking off his robe and underwear and walking towards the bed. Kelly’s eyes opened wide when she saw Alonso’s astonishingly large hunk of man-meat hanging between his legs.
Alonso put his face into Kelly’s crotch and began to lick and suck. It made me wish I had a pussy. I’d be seeing about him licking between my legs the next time we got into bed to screw. I could only watch for so long though.
I felt recovered from my shuddering, introspective climax. I moved to the foot of the bed. Alonso’s butt was raised high enough for me to get my face underneath his crotch and begin to suck him off. His big fat prick and his balls were dangling as I took his cock in my mouth.
I didn’t have to suck too very long for him to get really huge. By now Kelly was squirming and moaning in hot passion. Alonso’s prick was as big as it could get. I sucked his balls one last time and spoke up.
“Alonso honey. Why not show my girlfriend Kelly what it’s like to be fucked by a real stud? How about it Kelly? Are you up for some real loving from a real man, girl?” I asked.
“Oh my gosh, yes! Yes! Put something in my cunt. Anything. A dildo, a vibrator, even a big fat cock! Please?” Kelly moaned.
I got off of the bed Alonso and Kelly were on, and moved to the other bed. I sipped from the wine glass I’d left there. Alonso mounted Kelly and slowly and gently pushed his cock into her waiting twat. Kelly gasped as he entered her and wrapped her legs around him. This was going to be fun to watch. I propped myself up with a pillow and poured another glass of white.
The sun had gone done. From the beautiful penthouse view we had I could see the lights of Miami beach. Kelly was really digging the pounding that Alonso was serving up to her pussy. They were going at it like two dogs in heat.
I looked around and grabbed my cell phone. I took several pictures for posterity. I wouldn’t be able to put these on our Christmas cards or show them to Nana Muriel, but they’d be cool to have. I mean how many girls get to watch their new husband screw their Maid-of-Honor?
I’ll bet not too many. Then again, I’m an air-head fashion model so what do I know? Kelly gave in first, but Alonso wasn’t too far behind. She began to blubber, which was just so like Kelly. Alonso grunted which I knew meant, that he was pumping his big hot load into Kelly’s ovaries.
Wow! That was enjoyable. To this day it is still the best birthday present I ever had. “Kelly. You can stay with us tonight. I mean we have two beds and who knows what may happen?” I said.
“Thanks Lola. I hope you had a nice 20th birthday. Maybe we can do this again, for your 21st?” Kelly asked.
We didn’t. For number twenty-one, Alonso and I flew to Italy so he could introduce me to his daughter, Teresa. We’re the same age. She thought it was cool that she now had a step-mother that was her age as well as a fashion model. The we flew to his beautiful home in Spain with Teresa.
On the flight I promised Teresa I’d never be the “Wicked” stepmom. She’s just the cutest kid. And great fun to be with. Loves shopping for new clothes and adores going to the salon. I never dreamed I’d have a daughter to pick out clothes with or take to the beauty parlor.
She even let me brush her hair at bedtime. I did not expect any of this, when my mother and Katy Royale talked me into doing some androgynous modeling. I really owe a lot to Elaine Klein for pushing me over the edge into a transgender role.
I’m having the time of my life. Like the song says, “I love being a girl!”
Ended
No comments:
Post a Comment