B A B Y D O L L G R O W S U P

The first week of sharing Margo's apartment with her was all I had hoped it
would be. We had been lovers before, and would make love to each other many
times again, but we did not live together as lovers. The apartment had a
second bedroom which Margo had been using to store odds and ends. We cleaned
that out to become my bedroom. We both shared Margo's bed for the first few
days, but by Thursday night my somehow appropriately queen-sized bed
arrived,
and we each had our own room.

We came to an agreement right away on the, for lack of a better phrase,
"sexual arrangements" for our place. On average, men tend to have their
casual affairs outside of their living space while women tend to bring their
sex home with them. If we held to that statistic, we would each need a place
to be bedded by our lovers. We decided that whatever we did in the privacy
of
our own rooms with whomever we chose to do it, was our own business. The
living room would be for mutual use for entertaining with our clothes on
unless we were both entertaining the same lover, or the other one had
previously announced her intentions of being out all night. The kitchen was
our place, and off-limits to lovers. These arrangements worked well, and we
held to them all the while we lived together.

The only problem I had was the need to keep my male job, so that I could pay
my half of the rent. How I loathed getting up each morning, and putting on
that stifling male clothing, and heavy shoes to trudge to work. The job was
not difficult. I was the stockboy in the Children's Shoes Department of a
famous 5th Avenue department store. The problem was that I had to do it as a
male, and I no longer wanted to be male in any way! I had to find a way to
change that, or at least the job. I did not yet know how to do it, but I
knew
I would somehow find a way.

As soon as I got home from work each night, I would shower, and change into
some frilly lingerie borrowed from Margo. She was generous to a fault with
me, but I could not continue to borrow things all the time. She had made me
a
present of the white outfit that I had worn on my first night in Drag, but a
girl needs more than one outfit. There was but one answer. We had to do what
every woman enjoys doing more than anything else. We had to go shopping!

Saturday morning was bright and breezy in New York City. It had been one
week
since my first night in Drag, and it was time to take the next step. Margo
layed out the outfit I would wear after breakfast. There was a yellow based
floral print skirt with a hemline that fell just above my knee, and a
matching
loose fitting jacket. To go with that was a light pastel green silk blouse,
and green shoes and bag that were almost the same color as the blouse. Margo
also let me wear the aqua lingerie set that she had worn last Saturday. I
tucked my penis back into my crotch, and slipped on the panties. "Always
dress to the nines when you go out shopping," Margo told me as we put our
clothes on. "You get a lot better service from the tacky shopgirls when you
look better than they do!" She was right.

I was shifting things from the pink purse to the one Margo had just given me
when I came upon something I had almost forgotten in the rigors of moving
that
week. It was Peter's business card. Peter and I had danced at "The Gilded
Grape" last Saturday night, and I promised to call him. I tucked the card
into the frame of the mirror over my dresser. I did not want to forget to
call on Monday when he would be back at his desk. I wanted very much to see
him again.

We were ready to go out by 10:00AM, and the elevator whisked us to the
street.
Another womanly adventure lay ahead!

We hailed a taxi, and I got in first to slide across the back seat, so Margo
could get in. I glanced at the driver, and caught him trying to sneak a peek
up my skirt in the rear-view mirror as I passed along the seat. I was in a
good mood, so I let my legs spread, and my skirt to hike up just enough to
give him a flash of my thigh above my stocking top. He took it all in. I
wonder what he would have thought if he had known that a little higher above
that stocking top, my penis was neatly tucked away protected by my panties.
He just got a very pleased look on his face, and said, "Where to, ladies?!"

The cab weaved its way through the usual crush of midtown New York City
traffic, and soon deposited us in front of "Macy's" at Herald Square. I
treated the driver to another peek up my skirt as I slid out. He grinned
appreciatively. I liked being a tease!

Margo led the way into the store. Macy's was its usual hubbub of activity,
but soon we had shopping bags full of bras, garter-belts, blouses, skirts,
stockings, dresses, jeans, shoes, make-up, and jewelry. We spent about
$300.00
in all. "Just get your dressy things here," Margo advised. "We can get the
everyday stuff cheaper else-where." We walked out of the store loaded, and
walked up 34th Street to get some of that "everyday stuff" to add to our
load.

Our last stop was a wig shop on 5th Avenue near 35th Street. Margo seemed to
know the owner, and introduced me to him. "Bobbi, this is Ira," she said.
"Be very nice to him. All the girls like us get wigs here." Ira was about 55
years old, smelled of old cigars, and was rude enough to give my bottom a
good
feel while I looked at the wigs. Margo gave me a signal that I should not
protest the intimate touch, and Ira continued feeling me up all the while we
were in the shop. I tried to pretend not to notice, but it really bothered
me
quite a bit!

When Ira rang up the sale for the two wigs I bought, I saw why Margo had
motioned to me that I should not complain. Ira had marked the bill
"Shopworn", and taken 60% off the price! "He gets his jollies feeling up any
Drag Queen that comes in," Margo said when we were back out on the street.
"He's a pig, but it saves you some money." I was learning a whole new set of
ethics on my way to becoming a woman.

The taxi deposited us back at our apartment, and we took my purchases
inside.
It was all we could do to carry it all. I had spent almost
$500.00, but now I had a woman's wardrobe. I could live now as a woman full
time if I wished. All that remained was to be able to have a job, and
support
myself as a woman.

That was what I wanted then above all else in the universe. I had never felt
comfortable as a male. It took me a long time to figure out what was wrong,
but now I knew. My childhood had started out normally enough, but I was
never
really interested in the things that the other boys in the neighborhood
were.

= = * = =

I found sports boring. My father could never understand this, and showed his
displeasure by all but ignoring me as I was growing up. When I was about 14
years old, I even tried to cultivate an interest in some of the things he
liked in an attempt to get closer to him, but he put down my lack of
knowledge
of those things, and managed to strain our already tenuous relationship even
further. I was just not what he wanted in a son.

If I did not get on well with the boys in the neighborhood, I did enjoy
playing house with my sister and her girlfriends. The girls liked it because
that way they had someone to play the "daddy", but I loathed that role. It
did not suit me at all, but at least I was in the game that way. I did not
know what was wrong with me. I only knew that I was different somehow, and
that I did not seem to fit in completely with the "normal" groupings of
childhood. I was 15 years old when I began to realize why.

I had only been 15 for a few months, but I already considered myself enough
of
an adult to act on my own. Apparently my parents agreed too one day when I
found myself left alone at home. I had a slight cold, and I had talked my
mother into letting me stay home from school. My father was at work, of
course, my sister was in school, and my mother had to visit her sister in a
hospital some distance from where we lived. "We're giving you a big
responsibility," my mother announced as she was leaving. "Take good care of
the house. I'll be back around three fifteen." With that she pulled her coat
on, and left. I was alone.

I glanced at the kitchen clock. It was 8:30AM. If my mother was not due back
until about three that left me six and a half hours to amuse myself on my
own.
I had not had breakfast yet, but I was not really hungry. I wandered through
the house aimlessly looking around the rooms. There must be an instinct to
do
that in all of us. Sort of like some primordial animal surveying a new
territory.

I stepped into my sister's room. I looked at the dolls lying about, and
picked one up. This was the baby doll that we used when we played house. I
had cradled it in my arms as its "daddy" many times before, but there had
always been a little girl around to take it away from me. Today, however, I
could hold it for as long as I liked. I vaguely thought about how much I
liked being its "mommy" for a change, and noticed my sister's robe lying
across the bed. I touched it, and thought, "Why not?"

I stood and removed my pyjamas. I was naked in my younger sister's room.
That was Freudian enough, but nothing compared to what was to come. I picked
up the robe, and found a "baby doll" nightie underneath. I gazed at it for
only a moment before I caught myself stepping into the panties, and pulling
them up my legs. I had a little trouble getting my penis into them. It stood
out rock hard from my body, and I had to lay it back against my tummy. I
slipped the top of the nightie over my head, and felt the cool nylon fabric
caressing my torso as it floated down over me. My nipples too were now
erect,
and I could just make out the outline of their little nubs poking into the
fabric when I looked in the mirror.

I tugged the robe around me, put my feet into a pair of fuzzy slippers, and
trembled all over. To this day I find it difficult to describe what I felt
at
that moment. Something changed in me. I felt real and alive at last! As a
boy I always felt as if I were acting a role in costume in some strange
play.
This was different. I was normal, the way I should have always been. I
picked up the dolly, and went to the kitchen for my first breakfast as a
girl.

After breakfast I went back to wandering the house in the robe and nightie.
This time I stepped into my parents' room. It was strange being there
especially dressed as I was. This room had always been the inner sanctum of
the whole house. As children we might run roughshod through the rest of our
home, but we always stopped at the door to this room, looked in, and waited
for specific parental permission to enter. There was something almost sacred
about it. It smelled lightly of "Old Spice" and my mother's perfume. I
walked slowly around the room taking it all in.

I stood before my mother's bureau. I was pretending to be the "mommy" of the
house, and I wondered what a real mommy might keep in the drawers. I opened
one, and saw a delicate pile of silk and lace. I took out a pair of my
mother's panties, and held them up to look at. I knew at that instant what I
had to do. The clothing of a little girl that I wore would suit me no
longer.
I was 15 years old, and enough of an adult to be left alone in the house for
the day. Only the clothing of an adult woman would do.

I may have never been comfortable as a boy, but I could now feel comfortable
as a girl. I needed to know if I could feel comfortable as a woman! Was this
what I had been yearning for all of my 15 years? I only knew that it felt
right, and that it had aroused feelings and emotions in me that I wanted to
explore!

I placed the panties on the bureau, and returned to my sister's room. There
I
stripped off the robe, nightie, and slippers, and placed them on the bed as
I
had found them. I picked up my pyjamas, and took them to my room. Then I
returned to my parents' room, and stood in front of the bureau looking into
the mirror at myself. I was nude, but I still clutched the dolly. I was
about to go from little girl to woman. This baby doll was about to start
growing up!

My hand fell to the panties on my mother's bureau, and I picked them up. I
examined them slowly. They were white nylon with white lace panels at the
sides. I swallowed hard, stepped into them, and pulled them up about my
hips.
The nylon felt cool against my skin. I felt a rush of excitement flow
through
me. They felt good! I looked down to see my penis straining against the
filmy material. I pressed it up against my tummy, and looked into the open
drawer.

My hands found a white nylon bra that almost matched the panties. I slipped
my arms through the straps, and reached behind me to fasten it. I had some
trouble with the catch at first, but soon had the bra secured around my
chest.
My tiny male breasts did only a little toward filling out the C-cups, but a
couple of pair of stockings did the job nicely. I looked down at my brand
new
breasts. I wished in my heart that they were real!

After a moment of looking, I found a garter-belt and stockings. The
garter-belt was soon around my waist, and the elastic top helped to hold my
penis back against my tummy. The stockings were more of a problem than I
expected, and it took me a while to figure out the best way to put them on,
and hook up the garters. I managed to put a run in one of the stockings in
the process, but I was too excited to care!

I looked at myself in the mirror standing in my parents' room wearing my
mother's lingerie. I was far from beautiful. In fact I looked rather
ungainly, but things felt right! I could not explain it, but in that
lingerie, no matter how bad I looked, I felt like I belonged at last! Male
clothing had always seemed heavy and encumbering, but these light whisps of
nylon and lace made me feel alive! I had now to finish the job.

In the drawer was a white nylon half slip with lace trim. I put it on, and
looked in the other drawers. They were filled with all sorts of pretty
things. I wanted to try them all! I finally settled on a knitted pink top,
and slipped it over my head. It clung deliciously over my breasts, and I
took
a moment to admire the way they looked in the mirror before moving to the
closet. I had seen into my mother's closet before, and I knew what I wanted
next was there. I quickly located the white skirt with the pink belt. I had
seen my mother in this outfit before, and I had always liked it. I wanted to
see how I looked in it.

At the bottom of the closet were the shoes. I took out a pair of white pumps
with four inch heels, and tried them on. They were a little tight, but I
could get into them. I stood unsteadily on them, and my eyes found the
blonde
wig on its form on the closet shelf. In a second it was on my head, and I
returned to the bureau for a look.

In the mirror was a strange sight. There was a strange blonde girl staring
back at me. She was rather plain, and perhaps not the prettiest girl I had
ever seen, but the realization that she was me made my heart skip a beat! I
had seen myself in mirrors before, but I had never paid much attention to
the
way I looked other than to ensure that my hair was parted properly. I looked
the female me over very carefully.

The first thing I noticed was that my face appeared rather plain for a girl.
It took me a moment to realize that it needed make-up. I looked down at the
bureau, but saw nothing like what I thought I needed. I started looking
through drawers. Soon enough I came upon the drawer where my mother kept her
extra make-up. The tubes, bottles, jars, compacts, pencils, brushes, and
boxes were a mystery. I spent quite a while sorting through them before I
got
an idea of what they were all for. Then I had to chose a color scheme. Since
the outfit I was wearing was pink and white, I chose shades of pink. I
decided against using nail polish then thinking that it would be difficult
to
remove before someone else came home.

I applied the make-up the way I thought it should be applied. I am sure that
I looked nothing short of grotesque, but maybe it was not all that bad after
all. I do know that I looked very different when I was finished, but I also
felt all the more female. I felt the way it seemed I should feel. I knew in
my heart that this was right. It was now 11:45AM. I was starting my first
day as a woman, and I had almost four hours of it ahead.

I spent quite some time just looking at myself in a number of mirrors. I
wanted to see my new female incarnation from as many angles as possible. No
matter what view I took, I liked what I saw! Gone were the shapeless clothes
of my male self! Gone were the angular male features un-softened by make-up!
Gone was the feeling of rough wools and cottons against my skin! Gone was
the
lanky boy who never could fit into the role into which he was cast by some
perverse misalignment of genetic material!

In his place was the soft female form into which he should have been moulded
from the first. The feeling of satin and lace caressed her delicate flesh.
The subtle shadings of her make-up blended her features into a soft balance.
The clothing fitted and enhanced her form to set it off at its best.

I felt wonderful! It did not matter that I would probably not have passed as
a woman on the street that day. I knew that such things would come in time.
All that I cared about was that I had found the real me at last! The best
part of that was that I liked HER!

When most people consider making major changes to their lifestyle, the first
things that they picture themselves doing are the things that appear to be
the
most spectacular, or the most fun. I had just made such a major change to my
lifestyle. Indeed, visions of dancing until dawn in a long sequined evening
gown flowed through my mind. Even at that moment I could picture myself
doing
it. What really happened, however, was something much more mundane. I went
downstairs, and made myself some lunch. It was such a simple thing, but the
doing of simple things that day affirmed and validated the woman that I had
become. The spectacular is usually done by a character in a dream, but the
mundane is done by real people every day. I was indeed real as a woman, and
I
did those "every day" things to prove it.

Doing all of those mundane things made me feel very good indeed. I walked
all
over the house just to listen to the click of my high-heels as I walked. I
moved in the chair and on the sofa in the living room while I sat watching
television just to see the different ways that my skirt as I changed
position.
I bent, twisted, and moved in as many ways I could think of to catch
glimpses
of different parts of my now female anatomy in different ways. I did all
that
I could that a woman might do that day. I had a lot of time to make up for.

I liked the way that my female clothing felt. By 1:30PM, I was becoming
sexually aroused by that fact, and all that had happened that day. Somehow I
found myself back in my parents' room staring at myself in the mirror. I
wondered what would I look like to a man. I slid my skirt up to expose the
creamy skin above my stockings. I liked how that looked! I did it again.
Soon I was sexually teasing myself in the mirror. My hand went to the zipper
at the back of my skirt. I undid it, and slid the skirt to my feet. I was
doing a striptease for myself, and I was enjoying both sides of it!

Before long I wore only panties and bra, and I lay down on my parents' bed.
I
had never layed there before. It always seemed almost sacred. This was where
my father fucked my mother! I looked down my body to see my penis straining
against the thin panties that I wore. It seemed to harden even more with the
thoughts of them together here! I touched it, and a shiver ran through me. I
rubbed at the bottom of the head with just the tip of my middle finger like
a
woman masturbating her clit. My breath came in excited gasps. I bounced my
ass on the bed thinking of what it could be like to have a man fucking me!
My
release was copious. I came in long spurts. It soiled my panties, but I did
not care. I had found what I should always have been!

The clock said 2:20PM. My mother would soon be home. I arose, and took off
the bra and wig. I carefully placed everything back where I had found it.
Then I went to my room for a robe, and went into the bathroom. I was just
starting to take off my make-up when I heard my mother entering the house.
She called to me from downstairs, and I ans- wered that I was going to take
a
bath. I got the last of my make-up off when I realized that I was still
wearing my panties. I slipped them off, and held them up for a look before
putting them into the pocket of my robe. My mother would think that they
were
lost in the laundry. They really were my panties now!

= = * = =

Margo and I plopped into two chairs in the living room of the apartment we
now
shared. Boxes, bags, and packages from our shopping spree to get me a
complete female wardrobe lay all about the room. I was tired! I kicked off
my
high-heeled shoes to give my feet a rest. I knew Margo wanted to go to "The
Gilded Grape" tonight as she did every Saturday night, but I was not sure
that
I was up for it. I did want to wear some of my pretty new things, and I
liked
the atmosphere of the club, so I knew that we would wind up there.

"Well, Bobbi," said Margo at length, "shall we put these things away?" It
took
me a moment to gain my feet, but soon we were in my bedroom with all of the
parcels. Margo sat on the bed opening things, and passing them to me to be
put away. I only had a minimum of male clothing there. Just enough so that I
could work at my male job until I could find work as a woman as I knew I
would, and that clothing I kept tucked away in the bottom drawers of the
bureau. There was plenty of room for the things I had just purchased.

"We should get ready to go out soonbbi," saidMargo said as the last soft and
lacy piece of my new feminine attire was gently placed in the drawer. "All
rightaidwas all I said in response. I was tired, but I sort of did want to
go
out. I had to live in male clothing all week at my job, so I relished every
moment I could spend as a woman. Margo worked as a woman as a clerk in a
store, and I too wanted a job as a woman. That all made the time that I
could
spend in a dress all the more precious to me. I knew that a shower and a
change of clothes would perk me up enough to go out.

There were two other problems to going out with Margo that evening. Margo
liked going to "The Gilded Grape" on Saturday nights, and Margo liked going
to
"The Gilded Grape" on Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and
Friday
nights too! The problem was that Margo was an alcoholic! She kept it enough
under some control so that it did not affect our situation together then,
but
it caused quite a number of problems for us later as it got worse. I enjoyed
a drink or two at the bar, of course, but I did not want to try to keep up
with her drink for drink as she always tried to get me to do.

The other problem was that Margo turned tricks for cash with some of the men
who liked Drag Queens that came into "The Gilded Grape" to supplement her
income. She had gotten me into doing that once, and I would probably do it
again, but I did not want to tonight. She usually took them to one of the
sleazy hotels in the Times Square area, so I would have the apartment to
myself for a while later tonight when I came home. Bringing a trick up here
was reserved for only a few of her special regulars like Frank who we had
brought here last week. I just wanted to somehow insure that I could watch
television later without having to listen to the sounds of Margo getting
fucked in the next room.

I had a word with Margo about all of this while we were getting showered and
dressed. I told her that I wanted to try some things on my own when we went
out that night. After all, I had been in public for a week as a woman, but
she had been with me to advise and direct for every minute of that time. I
told her that I appreciated her help, but I wanted to see how I could handle
things as a woman for myself. It was as much true as it was a ploy to get
around the problems, and perhaps more true than anything else. I did want to
feel what it was like to be a woman on my own.

Margo took it well, and went along with it. "So the little bird wants to fly
on her own?," she joked. "That is fine with me. It's about time that you
did! You are as much woman as I can make you now. The rest is up to you!" I
knew that she was right. I thought that I was just getting by a couple of
problems, but the time had come for me to leave the nest. I was a woman now,
and if I wanted to continue being one, I had to go out on my own, and do it.

This Baby Doll was growing up a little more. It had started with the panties
from my mother's bureau four years earlier, and this was the third step. For
a moment my mind wandered back to that second step in between when I lost my
virginity to a man!

It was only about four months after the first time I had dressed as a woman
in
my mother's clothes that it happened. I was left alone a few other times
since that first day in Drag, and each time I headed directly for my
mother's
bureau to dress. I was getting better at it, and I even seemed to be having
some of the same feelings toward things that a woman might have. At 16 years
old I was awakening sexually more and more each day, and that sexual
awakening
was in an attraction to men as sexual partners, and not to women. It just
felt natural that way to me.

I fantasized about what it might be like to be seduced by a man as a woman.
I
would lie in my parents' bed in one of my mother's filmy nighties, and
pretend
that I was being made love to by a man. I would hold one of my father's
king-sized pillows to me making believe that it was my man. I would slide
the
hem of the nightie up to my belly, and roll onto my back. Then pull the
pillow on top of me, and masturbate to climax while bouncing on the bed as
if
I was being fucked by a man. I wanted it to happen for real! I did not have
long to wait.

I grew up in Union City, NJ. Not very far from where we lived was a vacant
lot on the edge of the Hudson River Palisades. Looking straight down from
the
cliff, you could see the entrance ramps for the Lincoln Tunnel. Looking out
across the river, you could see New York City. In the lot was the ruins of
the foundation of an old building. A few people would sit on the ruins or
park in the lot to watch the ships on the river, and just enjoy the view.
You
could also find a rather treacherous path or two that led down the cliff to
some more secluded ledges for sitting and watching. This all amounted to the
local "Lover's Lane" in the evenings. I, however, was a daytime watcher, and
so was an older man who seemed to enjoy watching me more than the river!

He was about 35 years old, or maybe a year or two younger when we met. He
worked a night shift, and sometimes spent the afternoon sitting on the wall,
and watching the river like I did after school. I know now that he was
cruising almost anyone who came into the lot, bit in those days I was still
a
little naive to such things.

He was about 6'1" tall with black hair, and looked very Italian. He was well
muscled, but with just a tiny bit more tummy than he should have to make his
physique perfect. We had talked a few times, so I knew that his name was
Donb
but not much more about him. I was about to learn a great deal more on that
day!

I was sitting on the wall watching a cruise ship dock on the other side of
the
river when he sat down beside me. We greeted each other, and talked for a
while about the ship. While we were talking, a car with a man and woman
inside pulled into the lot behind us. Don and I took little notice at firstb
but after a little while I turned to see the couple in the car kissing, and
the man touching the woman's breast.

Don looked too for a moment, and turned back to me saying, "Do you think
he'll
get a feel of her pussy too?" I replied with only a smile, but as I did I
shifted my seat a bit, and touched my crotch. In my youth, I was getting
somewhat excited by the scene. I was also thinking of what it would be like
to be that woman getting my breast, and maybe my pussy, felt by that man! I
knew that I wanted it to happen, but I was not yet able to understand it
either.

Don saw what I was doing, and picked up his cue. "Are you getting hard?," he
whispered to me. I was surprised by his question, but somehow I think I
actually grasped that he was propositioning me. I knew that I wanted it to
happen, but I did not know what to say next. In a halting voice, I said, "I
don't know." "Would you like me to feel it, and see?," Don asked in a low
voice. Nervously I nodded, and his right hand slowly moved to my crotch.

I jumped slightly as Don's hand touched me. My penis throbbed with pleasure
as he held it between his thumb and forefinger through my trousers. It grew
harder as he fondled it. My breathing came more quickly now, and I looked up
to see him smiling at me. I wanted to fall into his arms, and kiss him right
there and then, but we were in public view in broad daylight. I ached for
more of what was happening to me!

"Yes, you're getting a nice hardon there," Don said. "I live in the
apartment
house down the street. Would you like to get a little more comfortable with
me?" I needed no further encouragement. I wished that we were there already.
A quiet "Yesidwas all I said, and we were off. I glanced into the car as we
passed. The man had his hand up under the woman's skirt now. She and I were
both getting our "pussiesidfelt that day!

Don and I were soon in his apartment. I hoped that he would take the lead in
this, for I was not sure of what to do, or what would happen in this, my
first
time! I need not have worried. Don sat on the sofa. "Strip for me, honey!,"
he ordered. I slowly took off all of my clothes, and stood nude for him to
look at. I could see the bulge in his trousers, and yearned to touch it. I
walked to him, and he reached up to play with my now fully erect penis. With
it in his hand, I sat down next to him.

Don's arms enfolded me, and we kissed a long probing kiss. I had never
kissed
a man in that way before, but it was wonderful! I matched every movement of
his tongue in my mouth with a response from my own tongue. Then my left hand
dropped to the lump in his pants. It felt huge! Much bigger than my own
penis, and I felt that I had to know what it was like. "Mmmm!," Don
murmured.
"You're a hot one, honey! I like that. Come on!"

Don stood and pulled me to my feet. Standing, he took me in his arms for
some
more kissing and feeling. I could feel the hardness of his cock pressing
into
my naked thigh through his pants. He broke the clinch after a few minutes to
take my hand, and lead me into his bedroom. I did not resist. I wanted him
to have me as soon as possible!

In the bedroom, Don turned down the double bed, and then took me into his
arms
for another kiss. Then he lay me down on the bed, and stood over me. He
stripped off all his own clothing as I watched. The curly black hair on his
head was matched by a forest of curly black hairs all over his body. To this
day, I am most turned on by men with hairy chests.

At last Don removed all but his briefs. I stared at the bulge in them. I
knew
what was making that bulge, and I wanted to take it in every way that he
wanted to give it to me! I stared even more when he stripped away the
underpants, and I got my first good look at his cock. I thought it was one
of
the most wonderful cocks I had ever seen. It was about seven inches long
with
its straight slender shaft ending in a beautiful circumcised head. I had to
touch it!

Don lay down on the bed next to me, and took me in his arms. My hand touched
him on his ribs, and began to make its way downward on his body. As we
kissed
in that sensuous embrace, it reached his hip. I liked the feel of Don's
flesh, and the warmth of his body pressing close to mine as I lay in his
arms.
Something about all of this felt right to me. I had only felt this way
before
when I was in Drag in my mother's clothes. I felt like the woman I was in
this man's arms. I closed my eyes to better savor his probing kisses, the
touch of his hands on my body, and the feel of his skin against mine.

I moved my hand a little further down, and felt the first brush of his pubic
hair under my fingertips. I played with my fingers in his curly black bush
causing Don to writhe a bit with pleasure. His hand had been caressing my
penis all the while. I wanted to return the favor, but I was hesitant. I was
having the normal virgin's nervousness about Don's. I wanted very much to
feel it. I wanted to hold it in my hands, and get to know every inch of it.
I knew that I had to do it. I mustered all of my courage, and my hand moved
lower.

My hand then touched Don's cock! A shiver of pleasure ran through me, and
Don
moaned in ecstasy. I had, of course, touched my own penis innumerable times
before, so I expected this to be the same, but it was not. I do not know
why.
A cock is a cock, and basically all men's sexual hardware is similar, but
Don's cock did not feel like my penis. I liked the way it felt, but it felt
different.

I played with Don's cock for a very long time, and felt it grow long and
hard
in my hand. I was enjoying this. I ran my fingers all over his cock, and
rolled the shaft between my palms. I weighed his balls in my hands, and
gently kneaded his scrotum. I let myself be guided by what I knew I liked to
have done to me, and by my desire to explore all of this man. I was caught
up
in the experience! This is what I wanted. I knew the woman I was from the
times alone in Drag. I would now be able to fulfill the full potential of
that woman with this man. He was welcome to every part of my body in any way
that he wanted it. His pleasure was all I was for at that moment.

Don then moved to take his full pleasure with me. "I want you now!," he
growled into my ear with an urgency I had never heard from anyone before. He
gripped me tightly, and rolled me onto my stomach. "Hold still!," he
ordered,
and I felt a cold lump of Vaseline squirt onto my asshole. I flinched at
firstb but wiggled my ass in anticipation of my imminent deflowering as I
felt
Don's fingers rub the jelly into my anus.

Then there was something other than a finger at my ass. I immediately knew
what it was, and I let out a small prayer that I could take it enough to
satisfy my man. I felt Don push at my tender, young, virginal bottom, and
felt my flesh spread as he forced his way deep inside of me! I felt as if I
was being impaled on a peg as my asshole spread wider and wider to accept
him
into me.

It hurt! It hurt like nothing I had ever felt hurting before, but it felt
very good at the same time. The spasms of pain rippled through me, but soon
subsided to a level that I could ride along with the ripples of pleasure
that
alternated with them. This was what I had wanted, and now I was getting all
that I had hoped for!

Don rode me for some minutes. I reveled in every stroke, and gasped in
ecstasy every time he drove that wonderful cock of his into me. I wanted it
to go on for a very long time, but then there was something different in
Don.
His movements became erratic, and his body stiffened noticeably. He drove
his
cock deep into my bowels with a violence I had not felt from him before. He
groaned a deep guttural growl, and I felt the warmth of his cum filling me!
My man had cum inside of me! I had been well and truly fucked! I had lost my
virginity!

After a while, Don rolled off of me, and lay beside me on the bed. He pulled
me to him, and kissed me again. I looked at the time, and realized that I
had
to get home for dinner. I dressed quickly, kissed Don in good-by assuring
him
that I would seem him again soon, and headed for home. My ass squished a bit
while I walked. I thought about my first fucking all the way home, and on
into that night. This baby doll was really growing up!

Margo was staring at me from the doorway to my room. "Are you coming?," she
asked. I snapped out of my daydream, and replied, "Yes! I'll be right with
you!" I had finished dressing, so all there was to do was slip my wrap about
my shoulders, and leave. Margo and I were soon on the street, and headed for
"The Gilded Grape" again. I was a woman now in every way that I could be at
that point in my life. I was enjoying it, and I wanted more. I would soon
find just that!

We spent a good deal of the first few months of living together in that sort
of routine. A lot of my life at this time revolved around "The Gilded
Grape",
and the people that I met there. Margo would go there almost every night,
but
I tried to hold it to just weekends with an occasional foray in the middle
of
the week. It was not that I did not like the place. I just felt that I had
more things to do on my way to becoming all the woman I could be than just
hanging around in bars with the other Drag Queens.

I had a long way to go on the road that I had chosen for myself. I wanted to
be sure that I was doing it the right way, and the Gay and closet-Gay men
and
transvestites in there were not the ones that I wanted to do it with. There
was another life that I wanted, and that was where I fitted in with people
like the woman I was.