Date: Mon, 29 Jul 2002 14:37:44 EDT
From: LoveTV2@aol.com
Subject: Lingerie Lust Chapter 4

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 4

Mike awoke, wondering at first where he was. The erection he sported had
woken him up, as dreams of orgies in hotel rooms with 10 bellboys all
pleasuring him made his dick hard. Rolling over, the satin sheet caressed
him, and Mike sat up, fully awake. "Holy shit, it was real!' he exclaimed. Mike
remembered the great suck job he had received almost two hours ago, and
noticed that the sun was lower in the sky. He lay back down in the seductive
comfort of the bed, his whole body being wrapped in luxurious satin- red, no
less! `What kind of gay bordello have I checked into?',  he asked himself.
Mike looked at the Entertainment guide on his bedside stand, and, reading in
the inner pages, realized his luck. `I wanted to party, and here I am, checked
into a gay-owned hotel, for gay men, with a bar and live entertainment show
in the basement!' Mike put his arms behind his head, and lay still for a while.
"Whoa, baby, this is gonna be a fucking fun weekend,' he thought. Until Mike
realized one element was missing. He still had to go buy some new clothes,
and shed his corporate image, before the stores closed.  Mike rushed to dress,
and get some `party clothes,' before the stores all closed for the weekend.

Entering the store, Mike felt silly. It had been advertised as a `store for men
who know fine fabric and quality' in the magazine, but the title - `The Trans-
gendered Clothing Company' made Mike think twice before he entered. Mike
had thought of a sedate, orderly store, with serged wool suits, possibly some
khaki slacks, a polo shirt, or that sort of thing. But here was a store that was
more `slut attire for the pimp in training.' Flashy colors, silky fabrics, and
shoes and boots that looked obscenely like male high heels, were all Mike
saw. They were beautiful, expensive, and well-made, but not his style. Mike
was just about to turn and retreat safely to the innocuous blandness of a
shopping mall, when a sexy, sultry voice said, "Mmmmm, may I help you?"
Mike turned around, and there before him was the loveliest person he had
ever seen, and one of the most erotic. Long flowing blond hair, well past
shoulder length, cascading in loose curls, it billowed from a wide, open face
with a high brow where large, open blue-green eyes stared at him. Mike was
not sure, but it seemed that those eyes, like pools of water in the moonlight,
were rimmed in what looked like mascara and eye shadow, yet so faint that
one was not sure if it were reality, a natural play of light and shadow, or an
illusion created by a master cosmetician. The eyes were set like gems between
the cutest nose, straight, even, balancing the face like an artist's rendering,
with a tip that was more feminine than masculine. And, to complete the
picture, s/he had the full, pouting red lips that models often had plastic
surgery to achieve, but here, they looked natural, normal, beautiful. It was the
most exquisite, most beautiful, most feminine face Mike had ever seen on a
man. Ears which sported at least three piercings on each side, with big hoops
and small studs added to the overall illusion of femininity, but the person in
front of him had a full, but very pale blond mustache, which only made the
overall feminine appearance even more shocking and alluring. It also made
the lips look even more inviting to kiss.
As this androgynous person came closer, Mike could see it was a man, but so
subtle was the look,  so mixed were the signals, Mike felt psychically that he
was in the presence of a lovely woman. His/her clothes and jewelry were no
help, either. About 5'9" tall, the sexually seductive vision was pure lust. The
nails on the soft, pale hands were longish, and painted an opalescent color
that accentuated his/her long, slender hands.  S/he had flawless skin, which
was of an extremely fine texture, the color of porcelain with the barest hint of
blush, so that s/he glowed, and obviously, s/he never sat in the sun for any
length of time. Bracelets dangled from his/her wrists, which were  obviously
feminine bracelets. Mike noticed as he scrutinized this vision that would
never have been seen in Cleveland, that s/he sought to hide a normally
haired masculine arm and hand with the jewelry. Looking lower, and Mike
was unable to give this one at least a once-over, so beautiful was s/he, Mike
noticed that while the slacks were loose, baggy, and long in the leg, yet they
were made of  some clinging material that tightly outlined a crotch with the
cock and balls readily visible, almost obscenely so. S/he had on shoes as well,
the tips of some very pointed high heeled boots sticking out from `her'
diaphanous pants, and, like some obscene version of cowboy boots, they were
tipped in red leather. Mike almost expected a glimpse of stocking or garter, or
something more erotic as s/he approached. The shirt s/he wore was more
like a chemise, white and silky, also loose and flowing. Mike swore that this
man had some cleavage, but he wasn't sure. And here s/he was standing in
front of him! S/he brushed his/her hair out of the eyes, and waited for Mike
to reply, raking a tongue over what now obviously were his slightly lipsticked
lips.
Mike, thinking on the sexual nature of the day so far, decided to be
businesslike and matter of fact. "Well, er, um, Miss, I am looking for some
clothes that I can wear to go out for a night on the town, that are not quite so
stuffy as my work clothes, but I don't think that you have what I am looking
for." Feeling a great sense of relief, Mike thought he could make his excuses,
and leave quickly. But the proprietor/ess of the shop thought otherwise. In a
voice much more steel-edged, yet still sensuous, the effeminate vision of lust
said,  "It's not Miss, but Mister, sir. I am the owner of the shop. My name is
Libidina, and I am sure we can outfit you, or help find you what you came to
look for, if you would only look around for a while." With that, the vision of
androgynous lust turned, and walked back behind the counter. Mike was
relieved that he was not in his/her presence any more, but watching the
retreating figure of Libidina, he saw a definite swish to the hips, and the most
succulent ass he had ever seen. It seemed to be ready to eat, to tongue, to taste,
and to satisfy every gay longing a man could ever have. The man/woman's
body was a complete sexual turn-on, and Libidina made no attempt to hide
his/her erotic potential, as he sashayed/swished/walked back to the counter
at the rear of the store. Mike knew that he would like to be the one turned on
by this manwhore, even as the overtly feminine nature of this creature both
attracted and repulsed him. His mind was a mix of emotions, and attractions,
that he had never experienced before today. Yet he knew that something had
happened. He had met Libidina.
Mike came to his senses, and realized that Libidina was offended by his
remark, which, for lack of a better term, was `sexist'. Thinking it better to
make more friends than enemies in the town, at least while he was here,
Mike went back to the counter. Libidina was figuring some entries in a book,
checking it against an invoice as Mike approached.  "I'm sorry,' Mike said, `but
I didn't know what you.... I mean, I knew what you were, but wasn't sure, and
so I called you Miss." Libidina looked up, a trace of mirth in her eyes, which
glowed like pools of sexual oblivion, and, s/he, touching Mike on the arm
with her long, silky hands, said, "Don't worry, sir. Many men who don't
know me, think I am a woman. For I am a woman, but I am also a man, and I
strive to balance my `yin and yang' continuously, in my attire, my person, and
my speech. I have been bisexual, and have slept with women,  but more and
more I am deciding I prefer gay men for my sexual partners, over a woman,
and I think I would not interest a heterosexual male, even as femme as I
appear. Thus my desire to be even more feminine confuses people, both gay
and straight. But I do it, merely to keep my erotic potential in balance."
When s/he touched him, Mike's whole body felt an electric shock go through
him. He heard the words of the creature in front of him, and felt the touch,
but it seemed as if pure Sexuality itself, like Eros appearing before him, had
caressed him for the first time, to awaken in him a desire he had never
known. Looking into Libidina's eyes, he said in a hypnotic tone: "Yes, I see. I
am a gay male, and I find you very beautiful, and I want to have you. "
In his head, Mike wondered why he ventured to be so honest, or so bold.
Libidina smiled, and leaning closer, s/he was just inches away from Mike's
masculine face. There could not have been a greater contrast. Mike, angular,
sharp, dark, and masculine; Libidina, soft, pale, feminine, blond. and smooth,
all curves without edges. "Yes, my dear,' Libidina cooed back at him, "I
guessed as much."
Mike knew that, if he really wanted to start something, he would have to
make the first move, for he now felt palpably the feminine side of this person
near him. He never felt more alive, or more like a man in the presence of
this androgynous being, and he wanted her. Libidina was waiting for him to
take her in his arms, almost daring him to do so. Mike slowly came around
the counter, and, taking Libidina's head in his hands, said, "I don't know why,
but I have to kiss you!" "Libidina, knowingly tilting her head toward her
male aggressor, parted her lips, and said to Mike, "My darling, it was destined
to be so. Give in, and let us join together." Mike gently, slowly kissed the
man/woman before him, and as he did, all sorts of things happened. His body
sprang to life, his mouth tasted her, his sense of smell inhaled an odor that
was sweet, heady, yet elusive. Mike's dick became rock hard, and his hands
touched the softest, most luxurious hair he had ever caressed. Mike knew
that he could never live without Libidina from this moment on, and his cock
let him know that this is where it wanted him to be, as it began to gush
copious amounts of precum, staining his blue dress slacks. Mike felt all this in
the half-minute it took to gently but firmly kiss Libidina, and the depth of his
gay passion for this demi-man, dressed in feminine attire, completely
confused, yet thrilled him at the same time.
Mike's senses reeled at the smell of the heady perfume, which grew stronger
as he sank his soul into that kiss. It enraptured him, and as if from nowhere,
seemed to invade his mind. Libidina, meanwhile, gave in to the moment, as
s/he always did, and loved Mike for the masculinity he possessed, which s/he
did not. Libidina felt his power invade her being. S/he always liked this first
contact with a man, the moment when s/he knew s/he would have someone
to fulfill her needs as s/he wanted them fulfilled, both as a woman, and as a
man- totally, passionately, submissively, and fully.
Mike's body began to touch Libidina's as the s/he opened her lipsticked
mouth, and let Mike's darting tongue invade her oral cavity. "His breath is
sweet,' s/he thought, and Libidina noted that he tasted of love, a pure and
honest need for him/her; not just the raw passion or mere male aggression
bordering on hate for the overtly feminine, that Libidina had noticed with
other men, or how their mouths had often tasted, when they  held her in
their arms. It seemed that so many men had tasted like that, when kissing
Libidina. It was a bitter taste. But not Mike. His lips were full, his breath was
sweet, and arousing to her.
As Mike held her closer, letting his hands touch his/her back through the
chemise, then drop seductively to the clinging fabric of the harem pants
Libidina wore, Mike started to grab the melons of Libidina's ass, and s/he
melted into his arms.  The maleness of Mike's crotch, wetting her own
diaphanous pants with his dripping, urgent sexual need, made Libidina
swoon with lust. Her cockclit, encased in red satin panties, surrounded by
crotchless pantyhose, began to grow, and soon it tented the harem pants s/he
had decided to wear this morning. Her breasts, small and pert, barely an A
cup, rose to the touch of the fabric as Mike's body held her, achingly, strongly.
The lipstick s/he wore was smudging Mike's mouth, s/he knew. That pleased
her, as he tongued her deeply,  and had his way with her. He soon would be
like all the others s/he had known, more friend than lover, more woman
than man, but that was as it should be, and would not happen for some time
yet.  For now, he was all man, and s/he could be all woman to him, unless he
wanted her to be strong, or domineering. That also was part of who Libidina
was, and it was not a thing to be concerned about, as far as s/he was
concerned. Love for another was doing whatever the other needed, or
desired.
Breaking the kiss, Libidina said, "Darling, I have to close the shop, if  you
want me as much as I want you. Is that what you want?" Mike, his cock
swollen with lust, his mind reeling with the aphrodisiac still clinging in his
nostrils like a drug, panted after this man/woman before him. Mike had lost
his mind. All he wanted was sex, and more sex, and night after night spent in
embrace with s/he who stood before him. "Yes, whatever it takes, I want
you!" Libidina, her own submissive lust beginning to stir in her ass as well,
calmly said, "Alright, baby, I'll lock up, and you go upstairs. The bedroom is
the last room at the end of the hall, and find some nice robe or something to
wear, till I can close up. Relax, we have plenty of time." With that, s/he
calmly, almost defiantly, turned and swished even more provocatively to the
front door of the shop, and, locking the door, slid the sign with it's business
hours, to `closed.'
Mike, walking as if possessed, blindly groped his way up the stairs, needing ,
wanting, addicted already to this man named Libidina. Looking at the upstairs
apartment, he saw that Libidina was intelligent, well-read, had excellent taste,
and was quite at ease with his/her sexual interest in men. There were large,
expensive framed prints of homoerotic `classic art' over the fireplace, and a
sculpture of Pan, with full erection, standing in the corner, his eyes looking
lewdly at Mike. It almost seemed as if the statue were alive, as if it mocked the
need Mike felt within himself. Pan's overly large male member, erect, easily
12," and thick, was a taunt, a dare, that Mike was nowhere near as potent as
he, and Mike swore he heard words coming from the direction of the statue.
They said, `Wouldn't you like to sit on this, young man?" Mike could have
sworn he heard those words, as he vainly tried to clear his mind. Moving
away from the statue, which seemed demonic, Mike thought he had better
check out the rest of the apartment.
What had he done? Why was he here? Had one day in Southern California
made him into the sex fiend he now felt he was? Yet Mike did  want to have
sex with the owner of the shop, and s/he had invited him up. The scent of
Libidina's perfume wafted into the living room, as an ocean breeze blew
down the long hallway. Mike decided to go to the Master Bedroom, and
started down the hallway toward it.
	There were two other rooms off the hall, as well as a second Bathroom. One room
was a design studio, and Mike realized that Libidina not only owned the store, but designed
the fashions s/he sold and wore.  Renderings of erotic and exotic attire were everywhere,
along with color swatches, and some outfits in various states of construction. The other
room was almost Spartan in comparison to the rest of the apartment. It was a decidedly
Male bedroom, with simple fabric, wallpaper, furniture, and lighting. Similarly decorated
was the `guest' Bath. These two rooms were almost Midwestern corn-fed normal, in their
blandness, and they were  surprisingly calming to Mike. But the red walls of the Master
Bedroom beckoned, as they practically glowed in comparison, when Mike resumed his trek
toward the end of the hall. 	Entering the spacious suite, it took Mike's breath away.
Mike entered, stripping his clothes as he went. Mike knew he had  found the creature's
bedroom. It looked like a harem, or a set from Sunset Boulevard. As he began to look
around, Mike saw that there were elements of the English Arts & Crafts period, and
Mackintosh reproduction pieces were scattered here and there. It all was of the best taste,
but everything in the room was meant to heighten sensation: color, texture, lines and
angles, all of it was a sensuous delight to the eyes, and nose. Fragrances from candles,
aromatherapy devices, and, as he neared the bed, the scent of the manwoman, that subtle
mix of sweet and sexy that got into your mind with its' scent, lay on the bedclothes.
	Mike noticed that there were pornographic tapes and books in the entertainment
center, along with a TV that looked like it was  five feet across, yet high tech devices were
housed in an armoire that obviously was over a hundred years old. The furniture and wall
coverings reminded him of the illustrations of the medieval romances he had read as a
child, where luxury was accepted as a normal thing, and that was why, it seemed so
decadent to modern eyes. It was luxury for the sake of being luxurious.  Looking out the
French Doors,  which gave a stunning panorama of the Pacific, high above all the other
buildings for at least a block, Mike noticed that here too, were hung draperies of rich and
sensuous fabric- this desire for luxury was positioned everywhere. The walls were
decorated with more posters of erotic male films,  more blatantly sexual, and, near the bed,
he chuckled as Mike saw that  a large assortment of dildos, single and double-headed. They
were in the drawer near the bed, with an open jar of lubricant as well. Yet it all was clean,
and looked as though it were a set for a decadent European movie, rather than a real TV
whore's boudoir. While Libidina may be free with her sexuality, she was neat and clean
when it came to her `toys.'

	As he finished taking off the last of his items of clothing, Mike turned to the closets
to search for that robe- the breeze from the ocean was colder than he was used to, and he
was butt naked! 	Opening the double doors, Mike walked into an immense room,
where he saw Feminine attire  everywhere; drawers filled with bras, hose, teddies,
negligees, and shoes on racks, arranged in color and style- in short, it was either a high
class lady's closet, or a very well-paid transvestite hooker's bedroom! But,  somehow,
even if that were true, it didn't matter to Mike now. Mike had begun to be comfortable in
the midst of all this luxury,  and he liked what he saw. If Libidina indulged in the gray area
between male and female, what was that to Mike? He found Libidina attractive, and s/he
did him. What more could he want at this moment? Mike began to be at ease with the
thought of transvestite sex, if that was what it was he was lusting after.  Hunting through
one of the side closets, (Mike had never seen so many clothes!)  he came across Libidina's
`male' wardrobe. It was not as massive as the female wardrobe, and was purposefully
androgynous, but there he also found some leather items: Hood, chaps, boots, jackets,
corsets, thongs, etc. Mike also saw a series of professionally done photographs on the wall
in this closet; They were done in the style of 1930's Hollywood: Black and white, glossy,
contrasts of light and deep shadow, of Libidina with a leatherman. There in Jean Harlow-
like poses, were numerous shots of Libidina with her leather man- s/he in some black or
ruby velvet ensemble, the cascading long blond hair, draped around the legs and torso of a
tall, hairy brunette longhaired leatherman, with a full, thick mustache, and a perpetual 5
o'clock shadow- with a dick that was at least 9" in length, soft. Was it an old lover? A
publicity picture?  Camp? Mike was so sodden with lust, he would do anything Libidina
said, even don such clothing, for the mere chance for sex with him/her. In short, he was
hooked. Wherever he went in the world Libidina inhabited, sexuality was constantly on
display,  behind the scenes, or in your face. It was all too much for Mike, and he felt
drained of energy.

Mike finally found a large caftan-like thing, deep royal blue, lined in  garnet-
colored silk, which obviously was meant for the men who visited this
androgynous being. Slipping it over his head, it fell to almost his toes. It was
cut to fit closer to the chest, and then, via pleats in the back, it flowed more
fully as it went past the waist. Mike felt as if he were in a Baroque dressing
gown.  It caressed his body as he walked.  His genitals, swinging free, were the
only part not in direct contact with soft and sensuous fabrics, but even they
were touched from time to time by the swish of the weighty caftan. Mike's
chest and arms were held by the bodice of the caftan, and his legs were
caressed by the fabric as he exited the closet, closing the doors behind him as
he went. Looking at himself in the full tri-fold mirror once he re-entered
Libidina's bedroom, he thought, "Not bad, not bad at all." I wonder if s/he
sells something like this in her store?"
The sound of a cash register printing out its final reports was heard, and Mike
realized that soon the lovely androgyne would be with him, sharing their lust
together in the early evening. Mike began to fantasize about what Libidina
would feel like, how they would couple and uncouple in their exploration of
each other's bodies, and he lay down on the king-sized bed to await his sexual
destiny. He did not think he would have to wait long. As he lay there in his
deep blue caftan on the blood-red sheets, a sense of palpable release came over
him, and that damn perfume assaulted him. God, it was erotic. And it was
everywhere on the bed! He closed his eyes, and dreamed of Libidina, and that
succulent ass swaying before his eyes. He soon was fast asleep.