Date: Sun, 7 Jan 2001 01:15:13 -0800 (PST) From: curiousone Subject: Billi Gets Himself a Real Man Billi Gets Himself a Real Man by Verna Benson My name is Billi LaChance and this is my story. I'm a gay 36 year old man with a few flourishes. When I say, I'm gay, I'M GAY is what I mean. I have a severely feminine lisp. I'm limp wristed. I wear a diamond in my nose, on my fingers and in my ears, along with several hoops. I get my nails done at a salon and wear them an inch long and often polished. I favor leather trousers and boots, which I always wear. I tend to wear silk, long sleeved blouses. I wear a closely-cropped goatee and have a shaved head. All of my underwear is silk (Hane's Her Way) and I sleep in nothing but my collection of silk short sleeved tops and matching shorts from Lane Bryant. I carried a very big black leather purse which carries my beloved cigarettes, More Menthol 120s. I often stop at a convience store late to buy my cigarettes and am waited on by a short, stocky man about 20 years older than me. He is quite muscular and wears his hair buzzed severely, like he has a military background. When others are in the store, he is short with me and rolls his eyes at others like, "Oh, the queer wants his faggot cigarettes!" When it's only him and me in the store, he's downright courteous and engages me in talk. I called him on it one night when it was just us in the store and was surprised when he opened up to me. Seems in the military years ago, a freind of his had come out to him and then revealed that he was in love with him. Instead of socking the guy, he was touched and over the next few weeks they'd actually kissed and petted and he had worked himself up to actually fuck his gay friend. Then one day, some other buddies come to him and say they've found love letters in the gay man's foot locker and that he's got to be "taken care of". So he helped his friends beat the man to within an inch of his life, scared all the time that the man would spill the beans about their encounters. But he never said a word. The man was discharged and was never heard from again. I felt somewhat bonded to the man and introduced myself formally. "Frank," he said, "Frank Jones." As I lit one of my Mores, he stubbed out his Marlboro. I decided to ask something..."Do you ever...," I started, "Wonder what you missed?" I placed my hand on his. His eyes darted up at me, then relaxed. "Hell, yeah, sure." he said. That was all I needed to hear! I grabbed my red Cross pen and jotted my address on a scrap of paper. I pushed it toward him on the counter. "When you get off?" I said. He said, "A few hours." I waltzed to the door, turned, took an exagerated drag on my More and said, "See you later...," blowing a plume of smoke. I sailed home and into a bath of warm water, bubbles and Jean Nate. I was positively glowing! Around 7:00am, he knocked on the door and stepped inside. When he saw me in my silky nighties, he got a small grin on his face. "Mind if I shower? I'm all sweaty after work. he said. I undid a few buttons on his shirt and licked his chest. "Oh you're gonna be sweaty alright," I said, dripping with lust, "But go ahead. He grabbed me strongly and planted a deep, hard kiss on me. "Be right with you." he said, letting me go and heading to the shower. He walked into my bedroom, stark naked and glistening with moisture. I moaned my approval and he came over and embraced me. Kissing me with a passion I've never experienced in my life. All of a sudden, he turned me over, pulled down my shorts and panties. This is it, I thought. Nearly 40 years of pent up frustration, wonder and testosterone were about to be unleashed in my ass and I quivered with anticipation! When he touch my asshole with his knob, I shook. When he entered me, I wailed. When he began thrusting me, I was convulsing. I was being engourged and split apart. I was speaking in tongues and purring and moaning. He'd pump out and then thrust in and I'd squeal with pain and delight. When he finally exploded after 15 minutes, World War III broke out in my anus. I could feel his cum dripping from my ass and I was totally weak and helpless. I couldn't move and shots of pain from my assfucking would shot through by butt and I'd tingle with sheer ecstacy! I finally rolled over and bleary-eyed and drunk from his love, noticed his long, thick pole was glistening with sweat and cum. Panting with desire, I motioned him over to me. On his knees, he climbed over me until his stiffness was hanging over my eager mouth. I grabbed with what little strength I had left, pulling his cock to my mouth and began sucking. After a few minutes of me sucking, he took control and began to eagerly fuck my face. As he pumped my mouth, I floated on a cloud. This is where I was born to be and with this man. When he shot this time, it was all over my face and I greedily began scraping it off with my fingers and licking them clean. After a few minutes, I collapsed in his strong arms. When he woke up at noon, I was in the kitchen making him lunch. I was still wearing my silk short, along with my Powerpuff Girls bedroom slippers and I was wearing the long, long sleeved dress shirt he walked into my house in this morning. When I'd woke up an hour ago, I started dressing and saw the shirt on the bathroom floor. I picked it up and smelled it and it was all sweat and cheap colonge and 100% MAN! I'd been wearing it and dancing in his smell. When he walked into the kitchen stark naked, I immediately ran to him and he lifted me in his strong arms, planting a kiss on me that lingered and lingered. He put me down and I fell to my knees and grabbed his long dick and began sucking the knob. He strang to attention and grabbed the back of my head and started to face fuck me slowly. After about 5 minutes and swallowing his ramrod he shot a load down my throat. As I was licking his dick clean, he looked around and said, "Do I smell coffee?" We chatted. He was unhappily married, 36 years, to what he called a "battleaxe". Worked for 33 years at a local plant that closed, hence the convience store job. He started coming to my house every few days, then daily and finally he left his wife and filed for divorce and moved in with me. We got married a year ago. I'm now Mrs. Frank Jones and I love it!