Date: Wed, 5 Feb 2003 10:03:49 EST From: LoveTV2@aol.com Subject: Lingerie Lust Chap 5 Disclaimer: This story deals with mature subject matter. As in all other postings, if you are underage in the area in which you reside, or find stories of gay sex, transvestitism, and the like offensive, or it is illegal for you to access such sites and stories via the Internet, Leave now! Please do not read! Any further perusal of story is undertaken at your own risk, and the sampling of such material cannot be considered as offensive to the reader, nor is the author liable to prosecution for having written this story, etc. Also, this and any other story is copyrighted and the intellectual property of the author, and no posting, re-posting, or selections from this story are allowed in any manner, (whether for free distribution, or for monetary gain) on any website, newsgroup, online e-zines, or in print form, etc. under US Copyright law, without the permission of the author. Chapter 5 Mike realized he must have dozed off, for when he opened his eyes, it was twilight. A soft light near the bed was lit, just giving enough illumination to distinguish the textures and colors of Libidina's bedroom. Classical music was coming from the living room, and the clink of kitchen utensils was heard. Glancing at the alarm clock on the nightstand where Libidina kept her sexual toys, Mike realized that he had been asleep for at least three hours. What was wrong with him? Why was he so tired? And what would Libidina think of him? S/he may even kick him out of her apartment for his tacky rudeness. Mike got up, and, finding some black, sheer, over the calf silk stockings, along with a pair of male leather slippers in his size, put them on. The sox were nothing like anything he had ever worn before, and it made his feet, ankles, and calves feel quite sexy. Sexually aroused even. Nor were the slippers ordinary. Cut like feminine mules, they had a heel, which Mike had seen in other shoes he saw in the store. They were called "Cuban heels,' and they made him feel as if he were wearing women's mule pumps, but in a man's size. He tried to pad down the hallway, but the shoes `click-clicked' as he walked, and made his hips undulate seductively. Mike thought back to his theater days, when he once tried on a gay friend's high heels, as his friend Tom was getting ready for a Halloween party. Walking now, Mike realized these were heels for a man, and it sort of was kinky, to think he was sashaying down the hall. Stopping in the alcove that framed the kitchen, Mike saw it was done in a somewhat campy, but charming, 1940's oceanside decor, and there was Libidina. S/he was still in his outfit from earlier, only now s/he was padding around not in her red `come fuck me boots', but in stocking feet, white, soft, everyday athletic sox. Such an obvious nod to male attire seemed out of place with all the femininity that Mike had been assaulted with earlier in the day. Yet her feet in the sox were erotic even dressed like that. Libidina's feet were small, shapely, and strangely sexy to Mike, as s/he stood there on the kitchen floor. Mike remembered his father used to walk around the house after the work day in his white sox, and those fragrant symbols of his father's masculinity were the first item of male clothing that had stirred the gay desires latent within Mike at the tender age of 11. He even stole some of his dad's socks to wear when a friend came over, thrilling in a strange sort of way while being near his 13 year old friend, wearing his dad's sox, which were way too big for him. Looking at Libidina's stocking clad feet there in the Laguna Beach kitchen, Mike thought back to that time of his adolescence. Four years had passed from that day when Mike and his friend Harry had talked, played, and sat too close to one another while Mike wore his dad's used sox, before Mike had learned the pleasure of masturbation. Trouble was, after the first cum, Mike had no idea how to hide the many other cums he suceeded in giving himself, after he learned how to jack off in the basement of his parent's home. One day, while passing the laundry room, seeing his dad's used socks, he had an idea. Mike used some of his father's sox as 'cotton condoms'. The thrill of that sock sex was more intense than the hand jobs. After that first time, Mike had been hooked, and had come often in his dad's size 13 sox, until his parents had found out what Mike was doing- not finding out that Mike was fantasizing about men- but that he was doing `degrading things with your father's clothes.' That talk with his folks stopped Mike's use of his dad's sox, but not his sox fetish. It was a few more years, his whole high school life, which brought so many, many temptations before his eyes, before Mike could let loose his gay passion, which he did the month before he finally left home. "Strange to think of that now," he thought, as he quietly coughed to let his presence be known to his host/ess. Libidina stopped, and turned around slowly, her eyes peering out from the waves of hair, looking like a gay Veronica Lake. S/he said, "I see you are awake. Dinner will be done in about a half-hour. Is that o.k., or do you have other plans for the evening?" Mike was astonished. After such a brazen display of lust earlier, and not even having the chance to have sex, Libidina was now cooking dinner for him? What kind of gay person had Mike met? Usually it was `wham, bam,' not even `thank you, ma'am,' and if you were lucky enough, maybe a phone call a week later, to get together `just for a drink.' But this? Mike's look of astonishment must have been visible to the androgyne, for s/he smiled and laughed lightly, sounding more female than male in that tinkling laugh. "Oh, my, you think you don't deserve dinner, after falling asleep on me when I was planning an afternoon of wild, passionate sex, do you?" Libidina padded over to Mike, took his arm in hers, and led him to the sofa in front of the fireplace, where two glasses of wine had already been poured. Ever the consummate host/ess, Libidina motioned to Mike, and, sitting him down, s/he took off Mike's slippers, letting her alluring hands linger just a bit too long on the stocking clad feet, which definitely was turning Mike on! Looking up from her kneeling position, with more than a hint of lust in his/her eyes, Libidina said softly, "I'm glad to see you decided to wear the stockings I chose for you - I like them on you a lot. Did you like the mule pumps for men as well? " "So they were male high heels!" , Mike thought. S/he seated herself demurely, tucking her white sox under her harem pants, and Libidina, handing a glass of wine to him, said to Mike, "Come, darling, let's sit here and just talk. There is time enough for sex tonight, unless you already have another date..." Mike, seeing the questioning look in her face, said, "No, I don't.' ` I would love to spend the night with you.' `But you have to know something.' `I'm not from Laguna.' `Hell, I'm not even from Southern California, and I have to go back home on Tuesday.' ` You have been very sweet, and I like you a lot, but please, don't think I either can, or am able or ready to be lover material.'" Libidina paused a minute, her finger tracing the rim of the glass. Then, quietly she said, "Well.' `I have never had anyone be so blunt with me before.' `It is somewhat refreshing, if disappointing.' `Why don't you tell me about you, and let's see how the evening develops, shall we?' `No preconceived notions, no promises, about us, or from either of us- is that a deal?' " "Deal," Mike said. He settled down, curling his feet under himself in the roomy, cushiony couch, as he and Libidina began to chat. The stockings he wore however, were a constant reminder of the sensuousness that was part of Libidina's world, and they caused him to lose his train of thought, as they pricked at his mind via his body, goading him to let loose with the lust he earlier had exhibited. Sipping wine from time to time, Libidina listened, attentive, as though the Raj of India were seated before her, rather than a Software salesman/computer programmer from Cleveland! Mike told her what his life was like: the dead-end job, the career, the days at college, and why he happened to be here in Laguna this weekend, and how he had decided to `party', which was why he had entered the shop "where I met you, and ended up here, naked in a caftan, aroused and confused, drinking wine with the sexiest, and nicest person I have ever met." Mike's emotions were too near the surface; he felt close to tears, for it seemed as though this man/woman before him knew of his frustration, his hurt, and his dreams gone awry, and more importantaly, s/he acted as if s/he cared about him. Trying to say something, Mike was overcome with emotion. Rather than make a fool of himself, Mike put his head in his hands, and tried to steady himself. He was not an emotional person. He rarely cried, but right now he felt so damnvulnerable, almost....feminine! The couch sighed, and the cushions moved, as Libidina slid to him, to hold his head in her arms. Mike heard her murmuring words of soothing, loving tones, but the thing that was screaming to Mike as Libidina held him there, was that this sexy male was posessed of tits! Real titties! They were small, and you couldn't see them unless you knew where you were looking, but they were there, and one of them was pressed against Mike's head. The thrill of that moment was intensified when the transvestite male lifted Mike's head to look into his/her eyes. "Mike, sweetie, we all have to choose a career. Some choose wisely when they are young, some choose later in life, and some never choose at all. You should be lucky that you have realized that maybe you need to change careers, while you still can." A wave of Libidnia's hair fell from his/her shoulders at that moment, and Mike, overwhelmed by the generosity and kind spirit of the person in front of him, and her physical nearness, drew the smaller man to him. "You could make me fall in love with you, you know that? " Mike said, just a kisses' breadth away from Libidina. "Darling, that is what I always hope a man will tell me", Libidina said. S/he leaned in, and took Mike by surprise. Earlier, it was he who had taken the initiative. Now, as s/he kissed him, Mike felt a passion, a commanding presence that he thought was not possible from such a demure creature as this. It was as if, in showing the `feminine' side of his nature, Libidina now showed the `masculine side' of her nature as a counter to his feminine vulnerability. Because he had been `soft and yielding,' if only for a moment, the androgyne had balanced his/her sexuality in response, to become the perfect counterpart of masculinity for her lover's need. Mike felt the smaller body of the transvestite writhe on top of his own, touching him, kissing him, feeling Libidina act as a man acts with a woman he is about to seduce, and Mike was carried along with the tide of passion. S/he was bringing his dick to life, and his body as well, encased as it was, in the silk lined caftan. As he stretched out his legs, he gave in to her, and let the androgyne be the domme. While Libidina used her hands, her feet, her legs, her torso, to touch and caress Mike as he lay beneath her, the passive partner to her lust, Mike's whole body, from his feet, encased in the obscenely erotic hosiery he wore, to his head, as her fingers gripped his scalp and pulled him to her, made him realize he liked feeling this way. A mere kiss had begun to feel as if sheer Lust itself was converting him, dominating his senses. Every inch of him was being stimulated, and he wanted more of it, and wanted Libidina to bring it out of him. He looked up as Libidina began to nibble his ears, his neck, and he saw the statue of Pan. Was it coincidence, or was the statue glowing? Was it moonlight on the ocean coming through the window? Mike was not sure, but Libidina was seducing him, and he loved it. Kisses deepened, tongues darted back and forth, that elusive fragrance was in the air again, and Mike felt himself succumbing. To what? His own desire? His own submissiveness? Or just Libidina's powerful personality? Whatever it was, he felt his mind sink deeper and deeper, becoming more desirous of the aggressive nature of the androgyne making love to him here on the couch. When he tried to take charge- to be as aggressive as s/he was with him, Libidina broke the kiss, and, with a voice suffused with passion, said deeply, `No, my dear. Let me please you as a man pleases a woman. Be my woman for the moment. Give in to your own submissive side. You have denied this part of yourself too long." With that, Libidina, her cockclit now fully erect, stood off of Mike, and slithered out of her harem pants, to show Mike that s/he wore black crotchless pantihose, and red women's panties, beneath her other femme attire, to constantly caress her male frame. Libidina was now quite aroused, and her masculinity was very much in evidence. Mike was confused. His need to be dominated by a man conflicted with the overt symbols of feminine sexuality present in the clothes which Libidina wore. All of it, both male and female, were standing before him. Libidina, taking off the white sox which, till now, had covered her feet, slipped on a pair of mule pumps in her size, which were under the table, raising him/her to the full height of 6 feet. Mike noticed that s/he had toes that were painted, her shoe size no more than a woman's 9, and the legs straddling the obscenely large crotch were obviously hairless. Yet above the packed crotch, the male mound was nice and full, with blond hair rimming the red satin panties, as inviting in its way as the moustache was, which s/he sported above her red lipsticked lips. Mike's dick was hard as a rock. S/he stood before Mike, clad now only in her chemise shirt and pantihose, the panties bulging obscenely with a very thick dick encased inside of the lurid satin confines of her oh-so-feminine clothing. Flicking hair away from his/her eyes, with a gesture that, while feminine, was an act of defiance to any sexual boundaries society would dare to use in defining him/her, Libidina showed Mike herself as someone who, living as a sexual being somewhere between male and female, loved both aspects of him/herself. Libidina stood there before Mike. S/he said, "Come and suck me, Mike. Be comfortable with the passive side of your nature, and enjoy your own femininity, as you suck a transvestite cockclit." The long, soft fingers with their polished nails grasped the panties, and pulled them off of the large, cut cock, that now bobbed before Mike. Suddenly, Mike realized he wanted this- all of it, the mind games, the male and female lover who aroused him as no one had done, and he wanted to be submissive to the lingerie clad man in front of him, at least for tonight. Tomorrow, or Monday, he could leave Libidina, go back to Cleveland, and be just the `same old Mike' he had been before. That is what his mind told himself, in the moments before he kneeled before the shemale's cockclit. He never could, of course. Having met this vision of erotic seduction, Mike was hooked. He did not know that here, a door was being opened to a hidden part of his own sexual awakening, a door which, once opened, would never close. Mike had come close to this sexual self-awareness with Erik, some 7 years ago. Then, in Iowa, with another gay man, it had frightened him. Now, in front of this seductive slutman, he wanted it with all his being. Mike was arousing in his psyche, a part of himself that could not be denied. That part of him was not just gay lust, it was a part of his desire he had never known before- a decidedly feminine part. Once indulged, it could only grow and develop, as the need for Libidina was developing with every second that passed, while he slid from the couch, knelt before him/her, and gave in to his lingerie lust. As Mike looked at this vision of whorish need, his mouth watering, he felt his dick began to drip with precum, staining the carpet before him, while his legs felt as if a third person was stroking his calves, due to the silk hosiery still on his feet. He was becoming the very slut of a man he had once envied, showing his lust by dripping copious amounts of male fluid, and Libidina was doing it to him. His only thought was, "I must suck her. I need her cockclit. I want it..." He was her slave. And he was going to taste transvestite cock for the first time. On his knees, Mike crawled to the androgyne, this mix of male and female. "Yeah, baby, you wanna be my slut boy, don't you?" The androgyne's words thrilled Mike to the core of his being, as he looked up at him/her. "Yes, I do. I want to feel this way." "Good," Libidina said as s/he leered down at him, knowing that this was just what he needed, her voice deepening, tainted with raw masculine sex. "Then call me Mistress, and suck the cockclit that wants you soo bad, Mike. Be my submissive boytoy lover. Taste the wine of my lust." Mike took the almost 8" of uncut cockclit in his mouth, and was immediately aware that the precum he tasted was sweet. Not just an odd sort of flavor of precum, but actually sweet! It was also the source of the intoxicating smell that he had mistaken for perfume earlier that day. What Mike had thought was perfume was in actuality, the pheremones of Libidina's own transvestite sexuality! As Libidina's fingers gripped Mike's head, Mike realized that this vision of shemale lust before him was more erotic than anyone he had ever done before. This tv cockclitsuck he was indulging in, was as thrilling as the first real sexual experience Mike had had in high school, late in his senior year. When Mike found a torn gay porno mag in the dumpster of the store where he worked, as he was closing up shop one night, Mike realized that someone had thrown this magazine away. The gay man had to live in the apartment building above the grocery store, cuz the dumpster was in a locked parking lot, accessible only via the store and the back entrance to the building. Mike wanted to finally know what thrilled him so, when he saw men's bodies, and, after jacking to the picutres in the magazine at least five times in two days, Mike had his answer. Two days later, a man drove up on a Harley, swung his massive legs over the hog, and came into the store, to buy a few things. And was he a stud! Six feet tall, with a mane of salt and pepper hair, an equally hairy chest, big, black leather motorcycle boots and levis, and a pierced ear, he was everything Mike thought was hot about a man. He came into the store, but Mike could not see his face. After a few minutes, he appeared in Mike's aisle, and Mike about died. Mike knew that this was the gay man who had discarded the hunky stud magazine, because this same stud had been featured in some of the gaysex photos at the back of the book- and the dick in his torn and faded levis was every bit as big as the photos that Mike had lusted after while jacking off to the photos these past two days! Luckily, working at checkout that day had been offered to him as a lastminute idea of the manager, otherwise Mike would have been stuck in the back unloading produce, and would have missed this man, whom he now wanted with all the pent-up lut an adolescent could muster. Taking his chance, Mike flirted shamelessly with the stud, who took the chicken bait. Giving Mike (who had just turned 18) his telephone number, Mike soon learned from Rod what gay sex was all about. That, and his father's work sox , had been his initiation into man to man sex. All the lust that had erupted with that first man to man cum, as Rod had taken his cherry the second time they had been together, while rubbing his hairy face on Mike's shoulders, calling him his `pussy boy,' as he was fucked for the first time -- now seemed as nothing to Mike. As Mike swallowed the precum of the beauty before him, Mike knew. This was Mike's first real gay sexual encounter. All the rest had been images, phantoms, wet dreams, but here was Mike's own sexual reality, which would change him forever. Libidina was the culmination of the need he had wanted to indulge, yet never dared, even with all the men he had known since he first came out. With Libidina, and her cock, Mike knew he was a gay man. He wanted to serve this trannyman. He wanted to adore the cock-wielding woman before him. Both sexes in one person. Male and female, boy and girl, fucker and fuckee. Libidina would be the first `woman' he had ever been to bed with, and he was glad s/he had a dick. For some reason, he knew that `safe sex' with Libidina was not an issue, and that s/he would never do him harm. He felt secure, right, and at home. Libidina, as Mike sucked her, felt the rush of maleness suffuse her very being. This new man roused in her the animal passion she so longed for, which she craved to indulge at every opportunity, but which often escaped her. It was a strange thing... her very sexual need, the gayness which she loved, which s/he felt was enhanced by her andogyny, was the very thing that turned most gay men off to her. But tonight! Here was a tall, dark, very handsome gayman loving her as a man loves a TV, sucking her very clit of love, pleasuring her, heightening the sensations that she indulged in every day, in the fabrics s/he wore on her body. The silks, satins, nylons and linens gave her pleaure day after day, filling her with soft reminders of her own sexual need. But here, this man made her own lingerie lust seem tenfold more erotic. Her hand stroking his head, Libidina felt the luxurious hair Mike had, and s/he thought to herself, "He would be lovely with long hair like mine. We shall grow it long, and look like one another." Mike, meanwhile, drank the precum he tasted as if it were wine. Instead of satisfying him, it made him want her dick even more. It was a drug, this cock juice from this TV slut before him. "Mmmm, yess, let me suck her forever," he thought, as Libidina's already large member grew with his cocksucking. Mike had not liked to suck cock very much before tonight. He did it, of course, because he liked to pleasure his lovers, but here, with Libidina's cockclit in his mouth, her aroma all around him, her `oohs', `aahs' and `yessssss' spurring him on, it made him want to do nothing but drink cum, and eat cockmeat all night long. He had not thought of himself as a `faggot cocksucker,' until now. Her dick was soo right in his mouth. Mike felt good sucking this manwoman, wanting to be her cockslave. He fisted his own dick, so wet from his precum. He needed no lotion tonight, just the love juice flowing from his own manmeat. and flowing freely. Feeling her cock in his mouth, and his own dick in his hand, Mike realized that his cock was smaller than his `female' lover's meat. Stroking ever harder, Mike felt good that it was so. It gave him a perverse pleasure now, which seemed right, good, fitting. Slaves must not be more than their masters... or their Mistresses. They just serve. Libidina, aroused to fever pitch by the sucking, (which held promise of expert ability after training) wanted more than just this blow job. S/he needed this attention, and s/he loved what her male `slave' was doing to her cock, but s/he knew that for Mike's lust (and hers) to come to completion tonight, their first night together, Mike must be fucked by her. After her seed filled his cavity, then they could reverse the roles, and be equals in their lovemaking, But tonight s/he would be his `man,' while he was her `woman.' Libidina at last pulled his sucking mouth from her cock, and, looking at him with wanton pleasure, s/he said, "let's finish what we started this afternoon, slave. Mistress wants your ass in her bed." Mike arose, and towered over Libidina, yet felt humbled, awed in her presence. The caftan, dropping to his feet, like a large negligee, flowed around his body, heightening his sexual awareness. "Yes, oh yessss, Mistresss. Anything you demand, Mistresss. I am your sssslave.' Mike heard the sibiliant sounds escape from his lips, and knew that his feminine side was taking over, that he was submitting to the Transvestite before him. Never had he wanted or needed to be a `prissy faggot,' until this moment. But he sensed s/he wanted it of him, and it pleasured him to submit. He felt as if all his life were a prelude to this moment of feminine awareness. He could not have known how right he was.