Bye Bye Baby Oh Ooh Babbee!Oh God Oh ****, Miss E.....
I made my "debut" not long after I moved up North.
Everything I was wearing I had "borrowed" from you.
Fishnets. Pinkblack garterbelt, snaps showing under Tight white **** slip straps falling down my shoulders. That sexy black slip of yours. A couple pair of earrings. Long, dangly, glittery ones.
I mean, c'mon... I was moving to "San Francisco" so of course I secreted away many items (YOUR items!) for the transforming change, you know?
A small round jar of "face-shaper", for instance. Some lipsticks and mascara and stuff. Panties.... *blush* ...
And that sleeveless black top, tighter than paradise...
it clung to me the way it clung to me so tight so tiny so trashy tramp vamp **** **** sexy.
It happened so fast.
I was at this guy's place and suddenly....he just grabbed me and kissed me. Kissed me long and wet and deep and soulful. At first I tried to pull away but his strong hand on the back of my head kept me in place as he kissed me deep and wet and soulful.
Remember when I would spend 8 or 12 acid-drenched hours exploring your drawers and your closet and your makeup kits? Mincing and sashaying and flouncing and traipsing? Teasing my hair for hours and hours..
You'd go to college and I'd snort crank and practice crossing my legs and spend hours teasing my hair or stuffing a bra...
Oh! Or melting LSDelicious candle-poems into the mirror sizzling suckle drool slurp whimper.... enjoying the thrilling pull of your dangliest shiniest drop-ball earrings,
From April all the way to
(POEM: "wet pink windows sizzle in my mouth whilst mirrors cling to my hips like *****-splattered lips as the hero unzips and unleashes his flooding load all over and into me it leaks from my slit don't quit the fit is too good knock wood who knew it could taste so oh yes oh no suckle lick drool gurgle gasp choke in a ***-soaked ****-skirt with slits up the side ultra-glide pink lisp.....tough tool in my fists, slick with syrup oh **** you **** me oh yeah pretty please release this ***** from her bindings let him be she fierce 'n free ooh oh oh ooh la la I luv you for loaning me your bra and those long glittering dangling earrings swing like some ****'s hips grinding ....")
All drooly, snapping foaming lathers of pink bubble gum, emptying your aerosol hairspray cans, breathy as a brazen *****, cooing like a **** and whimpering lasciviously and flouncing around your soft dark bedroom all ******* night all ******* day on corrosively-potent pink crank that just catapulted me deep deep deeper into the secret wet femme girlish **** heart inside of me, at the candy-coated core. You allowed me thank you to ******* reveal it revel in it trembling licking my transforming lips all glistening with your tubed gloss which I slathered on like sugar syrup doing my level best to somehow somehow become a "girl" who was a combination of the Holy Trinity: Paula, Donna, and you. I carried the way you all moved inside of my loosening hips. Tried to mimic the delicious way you all ("ya'll") moved your honey-hot girl sexfuck mouths. Oh! Ooh!
You all had such distinct sexy "styles."
Donna was more Classic Rock Groupie with some GlamPunk smeared in.
Paula was Early '60's Vegas Lounge Hussy.
You were Tuff Irish Trash Super Deluxe.
You all had pretty pouting lips. In different ways.
MIRROR POEM 2.
sticky lathered pools of syrup foam.
so rich and creamy. feels like home.
lavender misty straps
my cheeks need slaps!
All 4 of them!
Sometimes when you're gone I play with your vibrator. ******* myself in the ***. Sitting on it oh yes yummy yes! In your pink sundress, and stretchy black mesh pulling tugging terrifically oh thank you oh god why were you so wonderfully acceptive and helped me become more receptive
and your black mesh panties.
and your fishnets. Please control me. Please do me. Pretty please...make me get on my knees and....
I savor the slick rewarding taste as my pink tongue polishes the slit at the tip of his steely helmet. I literally squeal, probing it with my tongue-tip to coax out the thick glistening spurting proof of his lust.
I moan whimper gurgle as I swallow spluttering lashes fluttering I follow wallow wantonly, en femme. On him.
You, My Ideal ***** Mistress, you were: ..
that first time I saw you, at Sally's party...I immediately started getting hard. *blush*. You were wearing some trashy gold lamé "cocktail dress" that hugged you pulsating within and vintage heels and your lipstick-mouth was so erotic. You looked "interesting" and sexy and mysterious and dangerous and safe and cynically romantic and game and I remember thinking to myself: "I bet that girl's gash is wet wet wet. If I had that body and was wearing those clothes and if I had a ***** it would sure as shootin' be wet dripping wet thick and creamy drips dripping. "
Which is to say: I was automatically attracted to you. In dozens of ways.
Oh ******* God, that first time I confessed my desire to you, in hushed tones... and you opened your drawers and handed me a pair of black bikini panties and a classic white slip, slinky-sexy-slick...... oh god remember? Did I seem "different", look "different", as that slip settled around my pale weakling-white body?
Could you see "IT" in my eyes?
Remember that time I asked you if it would be alright if I put on your garter-belt? You said yeah sure but I don't think it's gonna fit..." and I stood up and sucked in my pale girlish belly and reached around and attached it in place hugging my waist just above my hips and I could tell by the way you sort of smirked and giggled that you were quite impressed with my girlish deliciousness. How could I turn back after that? Hmm? It wasn't long before I asked if you minded if I shaved my legs, remember? You didn't!
I'd spend hour after drug-drenched hour exploring your closets, drawers, makeup kits...
Squeezing into every piece of girly apparel you had!
I liked it when you kept your panties on when we ******. Kept them on until they were sopping drenched slick 'n stinky. So that I could put them on afterwards. The foamy slick oozing...sometimes when you were gone or in the bathroom I would suck the foamy juices from the panties and ...
I loved the slips and skirts and panties and halter-tops and I loved that one push-up bra of yours that I would put on and then stuff with kleenex and rolled up panty hose until I had a nice set of **** to stick out from under tight black mesh or whatever.
I was such a *****.
Oh god oh goddess.
I guess you could sense how much I wanted what I wanted, huh?
What a queer!
Shake that lil' rear!
Why didn't you tell me what a ******* li'l queen I so obviously was?
Why was I so repressed?
Remember when you'd be on your back on the bed and I'd put your vibrator between your legs and....?
I remember once, I asked you, "Do you think I'd be a good **********?" and you said, "Mmm! You sure would, baby!" and I nearly swooned.....
What I really wanted was to be your girlfriend.
Maybe me and Donna could be your two *******!
I wanted to yank my penis between my legs and tuck it up and then pull up your *****-juice-soaked panties pull them up TIGHT and adjust it until it looks like I have a vagina under there!
I only did it when I did drugs but since I did drugs ALL OF THE TIME I pretty much was in DRAG all of the time too, huh?
It was very sexy. Do you have any idea just how much fun it was to dress up and play with makeup and tease my hair and....?
Sometimes I would just "cream" inside of your panties from sheer sexiness. I loved shaving my legs and wearing sheer black stockings with seams down the back attached by delicious snaps to that impossible garter-belt and I loved to cross my legs ("swish!") for you and toss my hair ("toss!") and oh god oh **** i don't know...
did you find it cheap and tawdry and perverted and nasty and wrong wrong wrong? Because it sorta seemed like you, like... accepted and allowed and encouraged "it." It was pretty sexy wasn't it? Admit it! I was tall I guess but didn't I possess a certain "white RuPaul" pizzazz? In a drugged out ****** ***** type of way? A dazzling razzle?
I did have great legs, didn't I?
Pretty hot gams, huh?
More "girl" than "boy"...don'tcha think?
And shoulders made for halter-tops?
Remember that tiny halter top you had that said, 'DON'T UNTIE THIS. IT'S HOLDING UP MY ****!" or something? I was wearing it once when you came back from college. Along with an ultra-short impossibly-tight oil-skin miniskirt?
You giggled and smirked and shook your head.
I used to wish that you would **** me with a strap-on. I dreamed of "changing places", switching roles. You the strong "man" and me the lisping **** *****.
How can I begin to explain the thrilling humiliation, the glorious shame of it? The delicious fear? For a boy to tuck his stuff up between his legs and squeeze into a pink skirt and just really show himself, you know? To simper and mince and gush and sashay for dear life! Stuff a bra and shave his armpits. Toss his hair. Move differently. Oh god! YOu have no idea!
I don't know why.... I was 6 when I put on my first dress. I hid it artfully. I tamped it down and acted normal but it kept raging back. It would burst out in stolen secret moments alone, dressing up in my sister's things, flouncing and traipsing and and and... terrified of getting caught. But I couldn't couldn't stop. Stolen moments locked in the bathroom putting on lipstick! After everyone was asleep I'd slip into my sister's pink panties or a slip or a bra or....
It would freak me out and I would try to forget about it later but all of my earliest masturbatory fantasies involved MEN.
When I was just a little boy I found a gay magazine in the street.
My favorite picture was this classic stud muscle man beefcake stud ******* an epicene pale and slender girlish looking boy, ******* him in the ***. I would stare at the stud's bulging muscles for hours, seething and roiling. The "*****" was wearing a garter-belt. Oh god.
My style was already classic slutty pin-up *****.
Sheerest seamed nylons, garterbelt snaps showing under super-tight, sexy-short spangled skirts, lip-gloss, push-up bra....Sexy saucy sluttish cheap trash tramp strumpet supreme deluxe.
I knew what I was and I wanted the opposite of me.
A big tough strong sweaty muscle-man beefcake cowboy stud.
Even as a little boy... I would usually fantasize about men when I first started ************. "Visions of sugarplums..."
Oh god if I found a magic-lamp with a genie my only wish would be to become a fusion of you paula and donna at your respective hottest sexiest peak moments. Oh god I wish I could have traded places with each of you for a couple weeks or a month. Oh ****! I would just constantly "work" it and sashay around intent on enticing men to become aroused and **** me or make me suck their ***** or preferably both at the same time.
I wish I could have been you when you were dancing at that trashy ***** bar on 5th St. or whatever. I would have sucked the ***** of filthy stud bikers in the bathroom or the parking lot or right on ******* stage if they let me I swear to ******* god! What fun to have a ***** and a pretty pink mouth! I would have ridden off on the backs of motorcycles with my knees and arms wrapped around some stud's hard muscle body, Riding "*****"! I wouldn't have minded riding *****!
I wish I could have been Patty licking your **** or vice versa ooh.
Or all 3 of us sucking some black muscle stud's huge throbbing ****. At first we take turns but I can't get enough and I keep trying to hog it all and my enthusiasm wins out and eventually you all sit back and giggle and watch me working on that huge throbbing tool... so slavishly so lovingly so energetically so ooh oh o o ooh god I LOVE it I'm gasping and gurgling and drooling and slurping luvitloveitloveit...until it just ERUPTS hot sticky stud-syrup splashing against the back of my throat and oozing thickly from the corners of my mouth drip drip drip drop...I cup my hand my chin, to catch the spillage and she says, "Hmm hmm. That's right. Get it all, girl." and then Patty says: "See that, Emily? Your boyfriend's a ******* *****."
maand they all titter and giggle and laugh.
Oh **** ooh you should have seen me in this amazing wire underfr
my saliva mixed with lipstick leaks from the corners of my mouth and drips down my chin in sticky messy profusions.
Get the picture, sweetheart?
That's what I secretly wanted.
I wanted to start a punk-pop band called "Candy Slot & The Sodomites".
I would be the star, as The Slot and I would be backed-up by the Sodomites. bless their bulging bats.
I got something that I sure ******* need
pump it up inside me with lightning speed
C'mon cowboy, spill me some seed.
Way back in the daze!
She probably just indulged me 'cause she thought it was only a phase.
That first time... she probably thought it was just a random fantasy that first time when I asked her, tremblingly, if I could put on a certain yellow sun-dress... but it wasn't!
She was so understanding and kind and open
"Of course you can," she said.
I was trembling as I stepped into it.
Her eyes glittered.
I turned around and looked over my shoulder at her and she smiled and zipped me up.
I had to take a deep breath!
And of course I abused the privilege and within two weeks began to dress up pretty much full-time oh god at first I would **** her but soon I lost my taste for that and wanted her to **** me. I would pull her fingers up to my tight ***** *** and indicate that I wanted them inside of me. Oh god!
It got to the point that I could hardly even get hard at all unless she finger-****** me.
I was on my back with my legs wrapped around her waist and she was ******* me with 4 fingers and I was drooling and gurgling and moaning and grinding my hips wantonly and....
I stand up on my 4-inch pumpspike heels, swaying from sheer extreme sexiness, feeling the tight black leather miniskirt gripping my hips riding up oooh ooh la la la la! *blush giggle* . My tight sleeveless ultra-tiny pink tee-shirt say's "WILL WORK FOR ****" on the front in big smeary letters, just to prove the point, you know?
We DID have fun that morning, didn't we, Daddy? We CONNECTED, I thought.
I sashay across the floor (click clack click clack) and open a drawer and take out....
(dare I confess?)...this ITEM. One of my favorite special toys. Given to me by a former gentleman friend of mine a few years ago. His name was Stefano and he insisted that I wear it ALL OF THE TIME and I did. The first time I put it on I didn't take it off for a month and a half.
Can you guess what it is, Daddy?
I putting it on right now.
Or should I say, putting it IN right now? *giggle gasp wiggle drool*
It's exciting to strap it into place and pull it up into position and push it in deeper and open myself up wider to receive it and take it in and adjust my ***** body to it and clench my tight ***** butt muscles around it oh ****. It hurts and feels good at the same time, you know? and it's SO humiliating! Which turns me on, for some reason. It reminds me that I am here to SERVE, you know? Here to serve and service men real men men oh god my mouth is watering men yes yummy pretty please more men I promise to kneel and crawl and beg and lick and drool and slurp and slobber and moan and swallow and whimper and get down on knees and elbows and and and and....
It was so much ******* fun to dress up act up make up **** up suck up slurp it all up! You know? The humiliatingly-thrilling sexiness of it oh my ******* god how dare I? You know? I only did it because I had to. Because my earliest sexual feelings.... I was 7 years old when I first put on a dress. I had hard-ons even before I reached puberty, for chrissakes!
Wanna hear about my FIRST ******?
I was 12 years old. Dressed in fishnets and garter-belt. Black bikini panties. My sister's black patent leather high heels. I had been prancing around the apartment for hours and hours. My mother and sister would be gone for 2 whole days and nights and I had the entire place to myself. I spent a long time on my makeup, carefully applying lipstick and eye-shadow and eye-liner and mascara and powder and everything everything. My not-yet-teenage **** was throbbing where I'd tucked it up between my pale pretty legs and I was peeking out the window at the man next door in his garage. He was working out. Lifting weights. He was naked except for a disturbingly-small Speed-o that really showed off his stuff if you know what I mean.... *blushgiggle* He was VERY well-muscled, rippling biceps, ropy abs pulsing as he strained at the bar-bells. Glistening with sweat. Total stud macho manhood. He looked tough and scary and powerful. The Speed-O was so tight I could see the outline of his big **** and balls moving around under the tight material. I knew I had to hide but I couldn't stop watching. Something about it. My innate sexuality was "locking" into place oh god my hungry frightened eyes drank in the spectacle of his well-muscled manliness oh god blush oh god and then I just EXPLODED, drenching my sister's panties with my first conscious ****** oh god so exciting and shameful and delicious and terrifying and taboo and essential!
It felt so good in seven scrumptuously shameful ways.
There was so much *** in my sister's panties that I washed them out in the sink and dried them with a blow-dryer.
Through the years I must have left gallons and gallons of ***** in my sister and mother's clothes.
For years when I *********** I would think about that man next door and his glistening powerful muscles.
Sure I pretended and adapted whatever and started having sex with girls when I was 14 and loved it and loved them but I was already bent somehow deep inside secret painful truthful hidden
would appear unbidden
in full glorious fever
Carrole was cool, at first.
Seemed more like she "condoned" it,. without really being "into" it, if you know what I mean. At first she played along or whatever....I think the breaking point was the first time she saw me with "****". She came home unexpectedly and there I was... wearing one of her white slips, under which I was wearing one of her bras that I had spent hours stuffing just so until I had a very nice set of gazongas bulging under the tight slinky fabric of the slip.
She stopped short and just gaped at me for a while. She snickered slightly and shook her head. "Look at you."
I just stood there, blushing. Speechless.
"Nice ****!" she smirked.
I covered my breasts with my hands.
Then I slid my hands down to my hips... and struck a provocative pose, tossing my hair languidly.
Biting my bottom lip fetchingly.
Batting my eyes alluringly.
I used to drive around dressed up.
Late at night.
Just insane with girlishness!
Nylons and garter-belts and panties and and and...
I once went to this party (more like an ****!) and was making out with this guy and he bent me over this low-slung black leather and chrome table bench type thing and he pulled my arms down and shackled them to the legs of the device, and pulled my legs up and chained them to chains that hung from the ceiling and I felt myself lifted up, my legs dangling skyward, attached by the ankles and wrists.
I spent 2 days chained up like that.
Men ******* me in the *** and the mouth and shooting hot ***** all over me drenching me coating me!
Each time some man would *** in my ***, the next stud would slide in
Used and abused and ****** and ****** and covered in *** and raw and sore and literally unable to stand up oh god it hurt so deliciously oh my god ooh unhhh...
Oh my god,
There's a series of photographs of me that were taken in a Castro District apartment on or about 1986, I am COMPLETELY dolled-up beyond ******* belief. I'm SQUEEZED into this slutty black slip. My useless penis is pulled up by a "gaff" and tucked up away out of sight almost if you know what I mean. With the gaff in place and a pair of painfully-tight tiny black mesh panties it totally looks like I have a Camel Toe! oh god I swear to goddess!. And the way it feels? oh god the way it feels to surrender and confess and admit and roll over and beg and open wide and flounce and primp and priss and pout and pose and simper and mince and oh god in the first picture I'm standing in this room in my slutty finery surrounded by tough-looking muscle-men. I teeter there on 5-inch stilleto-heels, hot-pink tight miniskirt. My tight black sleeveless top says: 'I HEART *****!" in big smeary silver letters down the front of course oh no oh yes oh **** I con-con-confess. Two holes are cut out of the tight black sleeveless top, exposing each of my pink nipples oh my ******* god!
In the next picture I'm on my back with my mouth wide open looking up at this man above me who is just releasing a thick stream of his stud spit that splashes against the back of my throat.
In the next picture I'm being lifted by 4 sweaty muscle-men, one on each limb...upside down...
in the next a big red ball-gag is being fitted into my mouth, ******* my head back helplessly.
In the next one I'm suspended upside down from 4 chains, my tight little *** about a foot higher than the rest of my body, a big fat black **** in my mouth and another sweaty black stud using a black leather riding crop on my ***...
in the next one I'm getting fist-****** up to the elbow by some man with arms like Schrawzanegger. oh god it is all SO ******* GAY!
My eyes are rolled back in my head and I cannot form coherent sentences.
Oh god. I can't even continue detailing those wanton wicked pictures pulsating through my flaming mind....yes I can! gigglegiggle drool slurp....
I sucked and got ****** and swallowed and licked and gasped and gagged and squealed and squirmed and oh **** they came all over me pissed on me whipped me with thick black leather belts with big brass buckles oh **** then they dragged me staggering like a **** in a *****-soaked skirt to some underground queer tranny drug sex bar where they made me perform unspeakable acts in front of everybody yes please thank you....
Did I mention that I was totally waxed and shaved and depilitoried and creamed painted powdered prissed and oh **** I had even been taking HUGE amounts of female hormones for a couple of weeks and could already feel the way it broke thru the last vestiges of my "manhood" such as it was...and as my masculinity crumbled it was replaced deliriously by a deep overpowering feeling of "girlishness" ... oh **** I was so ******* fried on acid and cocaine it was unbelievable.
Sometimes, when everybody else was asleep I would stagger out onto the streets and sashay around until I found some of what I so desperately needed. Hard ****.
I got beat up roughed-up abused viciously sometimes but even that only made me desire the bodies of MEN even more, if possible. I needed it like a bee needs rivers of honey. Like a bra needs ****. This one time I remember it was 4 or 5 in the morning and I was on my knees in some filthy alley and 3 sailors were ******* into my mouth splash gush flood oh **** after they had all drained themselves over my face there in the queer shadows of Frisco. Or as I call it: Wonderland. Heaven on ******* earth. Vaseline Alley. Drag Village. Dreamdom. Suckslurping drooldreaming.
ohfuck thank you
drag tight **** sexy
You don't have to coerce.
Because now I want it worse
than anything, anything ever.
I don't mean to curse...
I'm not trying to get clever
but where's my ******* purse?
I wanted to simper and mince and flounce and traipse.
I wanted to be beyond gay!
I wanted to slink around in a pink miniskirt and a sleeveless haltertop that says "**** INSPECTOR" in big letters across the front and I wanted to wear a rhinestone choker that spells out "*****" and I wanted to flounce around town in broad daylight shaking my *** and tossing my long hair, one hand on hip. the other hand
Cat-Woman eye shadow.
Sally Anne Sheryl.
Flouncy li'l cowgirl.
Pencil-skirts and penis!
Sheer black stay-ups and a pink sequined sleeveless minidress.
Mr. Kathleen Queen.
Mr. Debbie Drool.
Maxine Mascara The First.
Sissy Le Swirl.
Princess Lisp of Suckington.
Miss Ima ****.
Lady Candy Gurgle.
Princess Priss E. La *****.
Miss Kelly Bluebook.
Nanette No No.
Oh god eleanor I got so into it! Remember?
I would have totally had sex with a man.
I'd be so deep into drag and so perversely excited that I needed a hard **** in my mouth and another one ******* me hard in my anal ****.
Oh Dear E.--