Crossdresser Eats Guys Cum 1

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"Oh, by the way," I said as he was half-way up the stairs, not troubling to look up from my magazine. "With that kind of underwear you really should get rid of your body hair. Shave it off tonight, and use some 'Nair' on the stubble. Instructions are on the box."

Nothing more from me, so he continued on his way. When I went up myself and started preparing for bed, Jim was already under the covers, reading. He was in regular pajamas, and he looked up at me puzzled, still working through why I thought his shameful transvestism was too routine to notice. Was it? "Men don't wear panties, do they?" he asked. "You tell me," I said laconically, giving my hair its twenty-five strokes with the hair brush, as if that were far more important than his question.

He had to test again. "And bras?" "Apparently. Why not? Most men love women's breasts." I looked at him. "If your skin feels smooth now, you'll find a nightgown nicer to sleep in than those pajamas. Here!" I took one out of my lingerie drawer and tossed it at him. "This is yours now, but get yourself your own so you won't always be borrowing mine. More bras and panties too, if you mean to wear them regularly, enough so you can change every day. Did you remember to lock the rear door?"

I pretended not to see him slip the first nightie of the rest of his life over his head. It was a salmon-colored baby doll, with ruffles on the short hem. He looked so precious, sweet and silly, all at once! That my husband now wore lingerie as a matter of course seemed of so little interest to me that he let the subject drop. The next morning he made no effort to hide from me the fact that he was putting on his now-hand-washed bra and panties again, though he seemed a little self-conscious about it.

"Remember to pick up the cleaning on your way home," I said. "You need help with that?" I stepped behind him and did up his bra's three hooks. "I should think that by now you'd have learned to hook bras in front first and then turn them, if you can't reach around behind you. You aren't exactly a young girl with her first training bra, you know!" He was speechless. I decided that if he ever slid back into male underwear I would make a show of anger that he couldn't seem to make up his mind about anything, and he'd shift back again. Phase one completed.

He showed up at Hospitality House ahead of schedule, and I began his training at once. My receptionist had him wait for me wearing only his lingerie, on his knees, and warned him that in my presence he must always remain on his knees and look at my feet, never under any circumstances higher than my crotch. When I arrived my hair was tight back and I had a cat mask on just in case, though I needn't have bothered -- his eyes stayed draped under his lids the whole time. I gave him the middle finger of my left hand to kiss, then to lick, and finally I began to pump it into his mouth while he sucked on it, and then I added my forefinger for thickness. His first dildo. He slid his lips up and down on it devotedly after a bit. He wasn't very good at it, Loretta, but you'll have to admit it was a beginning. It's hard to criticize. I had lots of high school boys' pricks to practice on, and you've had your experiences too, I'm sure. And he's certainly come a long way since then.