Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The Body Beautiful: Lady Joyce Hamilton (c) Hamilton Joyce.  tv MF.

   Josh looked at himself in the long mirror bought in the second-hand
furniture warehouse just after Christmas.  He liked what he saw, but the
real reason for looking, he told himself, was to check his body-building
progress.  He was a boxer, and most of his spare time was spent at
O'Mulley's Gym, using the punch-ball, sparring with Joe Hadden but also
with lots of other boys, and especially building muscles with the weights
and the machines.  He wanted to succeed as a boxer, but also had ambitions
towards male modelling, and perhaps competitive body-building.

   The spare room at home was a mini-gym, with that mirror, and weights.

   He got a kick from standing in front of the mirror and flexing his
biceps, looking at the bulging muscles, the tree-trunk thighs, his genuine
six-pack, and especially his arse, an arse to die for Julie had called it.
He flexed his gluteal muscles and admired the hardness of that bum.  As
usual he found his cock stiffening when he went through these
self-adulation poses, and wondered if there was something odd there,
perhaps a bit gay even.

   He knew he had a good cock, and was glad his dad had him circumcised
before the bastard did a runner leaving his mum alone with an baby boy.

   He shook his cock, rubbed it, and turned profile-on to admire it.  Well
above forty five degrees, in fact nearly vertical against his flat,
muscular stomach with the groove between the plates of muscle.  He knew his
cock was big for a fifteen-year-old, near nine inches, and broad, with a
great, flaring purple helmet.  Lots of girls had fancied those nine inches,
and Julie had enjoyed them a lot at one time....in her pussy, mouth and
anus.  He still could have any girl he wanted in the school, and sometimes
did, but Julie, his old regular squeeze, had got bored with all the time he
spent at the gym or road-running and so on: they drifted apart and now she
was steady with another bruiser from the gym, Big Joe Hadden.

   Everything about his body was hard, muscled, male, but his face was
anything but: he was pretty and had been since childhood, always admired
for film-star looks.  His mum was blonde, his dad had apparently been
black, very black.  Josh was somewhere in between, chocolate brown but with
his mum's fine, shiny hair, same black as his dad's must have been, but not
wiry or crispy: silky, wavy hair.  He certainly had his dad's body....  mum
said dad had been a fine figure of a man but a scoundrel......  but he had
some of his mum's facial beauty with high cheek-bones, very full lips,
wonderful gleaming, regular teeth, long, sultry eye-lashes; only his deep,
dark eyes suggestive of passionate depths were inherited from dad.  Soon
after he got the mirror he started to remove his body hair: first it was
just the few wisps on his chest, but later he waxed his legs so they shone
when he oiled them.  Finally, a few weeks later, he had the lot
professionally waxed ......  bum, balls, belly, and cock.  He had not much
yet in his armpits, but that went next.  Once the growth had been removed
it was easy to keep it smooth, and he gloried in the sight of his lightly
oiled body.

   Girls swooned and surrendered to him.  Boys were jealous and it showed
in their vindictive behaviour towards him: not that he cared!  If it went
too far he would "knock them through next Christmas" and that soon stopped
it!  Some guys, fancying that wonderful body and that pretty-boy face
propositioned him.  He never gave them what they wanted, but did not hold
it against them.  He knew he was downright sexy, gloried in it, and was
neither surprised nor offended when men wanted sex with him.  He always
smiled as he politely refused.

   And yet, sometimes he looked at other muscular guys in the gym, and
especially in the showers and wondered what it would be like.  Julie had a
way of getting him hard after a first sex session by slipping an oily
finger up his bum and massaging his prostate so he knew anal sex might be
good.

   Thinking of Julie, with her magnificent body, he felt his cock twitch,
and gave it a stroke.  Julie was the sexiest girl in the school....  in the
school?  Possibly in the county.  She was the female equivalent of Josh....
super-fit, super feminine, tits and arse to die for, and that straight ash
blonde hair and clear blue eyes.  Loved sex too, and had any boy she
wanted, though he could hardly blame her for preferring Big Joe Hadden most
of the time.

   He felt like a wank and there was time before he had to go to the gym.
He went to the bottom drawer of the chest and pulled out a lacy white
thong. Watching himself in the long mirror he stepped into it and drew it
up, settling the thin lacy strip between his buttock cheeks, and cupping it
round his balls: his cock stuck out the top of the waistband.

   He stood in front of the mirror, licked a finger and as his cock
stiffened even more and started to dribble pre-cum he pulled the thin strip
of nylon aside and inserted his index finger in his arse: holding his
cheesecake pose he finger-fucked his arse and stroked his cock, enjoying
the sensation but also the look of his magnificent body.  He knew it was
good, and was proud it was all hard work, and no steroids.  When he came
his cum arced in the air before splattering on the parquet flooring.

   After, he felt good, invigorated.  He put some weights on the bar and
did some presses and then some squats.

   Time to go to the gym: he was sparring with Big Joe at eight.  He was in
that mood tonight, and he rummaged in the drawer to find a fuller pair of
knickers, ones he liked the feel of under his shorts, the satin across his
buttocks and the soft nylon around his balls.  His cock was half-hard
again.



   ................................................

   He sparred twenty minutes with Joe, then spent a few minutes at the
punch-ball before going to the press machine, setting the weights at about
his limit and working at it till he had a real sweat.

   "Hey!  Pretty boy, looking good!"

   "Drop it, Joe.  Don't call me that!"

   "But you are, Josh.  Everyone says so, especially the girls.  Shit!  Us
guys are all jealous."

   Josh got up from the machine: time to stop all this!

   "I said drop it, Joe."

   He balled his fist.

   "Ease off, Josh.  Don't mean anything.  Nice panties by the way.  Should
go well with that beautiful chocolate complexion."

   Josh swung a fist, which Joe parried easily with an open palm....  he
was a boxer too!

   "Hey man!  Look down at your waist."

   The white, lacy top of his knickers was showing above the waist of his
shorts.  The exercise machine had made the shorts slip a couple of inches.

   "Shit!" Josh's horror was real.  If this got out his rep was ruined.

   "It's ok man!  I wear panties too."

   Joe lowered his shorts an inch to reveal the lacy trim on his black
nylon thong, at the same moment as Josh was hiding his.

   "I mean it really is all right.  Julie told me all about her dressing
you up, fucking you with her strap-on...."

   "The Bitch!"

   "No.  She dresses me too, and fucks me as well.  It's good aint it? 
Man, we gotta talk."

   .................................

   Julie must have a thing about guys in lingerie, Josh thought, if she
dressed Joe as well as having done it to himself.  His mind went back to
the night it had all started.

   His mum had been away a couple of days training in some new medical
procedures (she was a theatre sister in the local hospital) and Julie
stayed the whole night: the girl had filched one of her dad's viagra pills
for Josh which made it a bit special.  It seemed her parents did not give a
damn where she was, and that they knew only too well how sexually active
she was: her mother had put her on the pill long ago.

   They were both feeling horny, but Julie liked to stand in front of his
long mirror and look at herself, for the same reasons as he did.  It made
her feel horny to look at her perfect body.  Both were bare-chested.  and
both gloried in their torsos....  his broad and muscular, almost bare of
hair still, her tits perfect B-cups, small but pert and perky with erect,
pink nipples.  So they were standing there in his bedroom embracing and
feeling each other's butts when she commented.

   "You've got a lovely bum, Josh....  it's what I like most about you. 
Look, you could almost stand a glass on it."

   He glowed...

   "But this aint good!" She grasped his underpants through the thin sports
shorts he was wearing, and pulled at the elastic stretching it.  You
shouldn't wear shorts so tight they show your pantie-line: spoils the
effect."

   "I like them tight."

   "So do I, darling.  I agree, if you've got it flaunt it, and boy!  have
you got it.  You should do what I do and either go commando or wear a
thong."

   "You got panties on, Julie?"

   "Sure".

   Her jeans were ultra-tight, but she wriggled them down and off over her
feet, standing there in just a tiny white lacy thong, the front just about
cupping her cunt-lips, the back disappearing into her buttock crease.  She
pulled his shorts and underpants down together and his cock sprang clear.

   "That's more like."

   She pulled her thong down and off: She had waxed or shaved all her pubic
fleece away, a complete 'Hollywood' job.  His cock twitched.  Of all the
girls he knew she had the most perfect pussy, so simple and elegant, almost
childish the way the lips were closed unless he opened them with his
fingers, lips, or penis.

   "You want to wear pants under shorts, you should wear these."

   She handed them to him with a laugh as he held them to his nose...

   "Go on, Josh.  Put them on.  I want to see you in them.  Your arse will
look so sexy."

   "Fuck!  I can't, Julie.  That's sissy.  Gay."

   "No-one who knows how you can fuck girls could say you're gay, and with
a body like that not sissy either.  Go on.  For me, darling."

   Yes!  In retrospect that was the moment his problems and self doubt
began.  Shaking with excitement he pulled the frothy confection up over his
thighs, the elastic stretching almost to breaking point as he settled them
around his waist and adjusted his balls in the pouch: his cock stuck out
the top, rock hard and weeping pre-cum.  He looked in the mirror and liked
what he saw.  The white lace set off his arse, and it felt so good, and so
natural to be wearing feminine lingerie.  Surely she was right this was not
gay, this was just sex.  Perhaps!  But he knew what he wanted and that was
her lovely pussy!.  He lifted her up bodily....  he often did that and she
loved it...  and dumped her on the bed, throwing himself on top of her as
she opened her legs for him.

   Not sparing her his weight, not supporting himself on his elbows, he
crushed her tits under his broad chest, and as his mouth sought hers he
rammed his cock past her outer labia, almost bending it inside her cleft
before his knob found her vagina entrance, and with the flowing juices of
her arousal to lubricate, his shaft went thundering in, knob crashing
finally into her cervix.

   Her "OoooooooooH" was part pleasure, chiefly pain, but she hung onto him
for dear life as he pile-drove into her, cumming almost immediately but not
stopping, still hard fucking with manic fury.  He felt her nails dig into
his back, ignored that, and ignored too her first climax, feeling her body
tense and relax, hearing her scream of joy, then panting mixed with grunts
and obscenities as his fucking drove her to a second orgasm.

   He fucked for a long time, though both had lost all sense of time.  He
had never before stayed hard after an orgasm, and she had never before
experienced these serial climaxes, one seeming to merge into the next,
climbing higher and higher.  Sweat poured off him and their bodies slipped
about sensually despite her arms hugging him, his arms under her.  She had
to make him cum, she realised, before he fucked her senseless.  As yet
another orgasm built she started to slap his buttocks hard, but all that
did was make him fuck her even harder, faster.  Desperate, she wet a finger
in the juices running down from her cunt to her arse, and soaking the bed;
she shoved it hard into his anus.  and finger fucked him.

   "Shit!  Yes!  Oh fuck!  That's good.  Gonna cum....."

   She imagined she could feel his cock swell even broader, filling,
stretching, owning her cunt, and then the blessed release as at the same
time as her final orgasm he spurted over and over again into her.

   Both amazed, they lay in a sweaty embrace, mouth to mouth for minutes
before she tried to push him off, and he reciprocated, rolling on his side.


   "My God, Josh.  If that's what wearing a lacy thong does, you should try
stockings and garter-belt too!"

   "It was your finger in my arse, sweetie...."

   "Yeah!  But admit it even before that you were better than you've ever
been before.  Has to be the lingerie.  I'm gonna dress you, darling, and
have some more of that.  I could see how you looked at yourself in the
mirror when you were putting my thong on: you're transparent, so easy to
read.  It turned you right on."

   That was only the first and there were many more.  Julie dressed him
sometimes in fish-net stockings, sometimes in glossy black fully fashioned,
bought him suspender belts and panties, and even an expensive basque.  She
made him up, at least his eyes and lips, and varnished his nails.  He was
never an imitation woman, however, always a big, muscular male in lingerie
and make-up.  Never a wig, but often high heeled shoes.  And he became a
magnificent sex partner, repeating without viagra, giving her multiple
orgasms.

   The first time she dressed him in stockings she fucked him with a
strap-on.  He came for her, and still was hard to reward her with a good
fucking.

   While she was with him, before she moved on to Big Joe, that was enough
for him.  But as he became increasingly obsessed with his body image and
his physical fitness so he began to masturbate more and fuck girls less. 
He loved to dress up, and at first to his horror, and soon as a habitual
pleasure, began to imagine being fucked by a big macho male.  Usually this
was Joe Hadden....  to his amazement as it was clear Joe did not like him,
considered him too pretty and self-obsessed, vain and stand-offish, and was
not slow to tell him so at every opportunity!  Still, Joe had a good body,
almost as good as his own.



   ...............................

   And then that afternoon in the gym Joe Hadden admitted he shared his
secret vice, seduced into it by Julie just as he had been; it was an
epiphany, He was not alone.  Yes, they had to talk.

   So it was in a quiet corner of Murphy's Bar, the room empty because of
the international on screen in the other room, they sat side-by-side,
healthy glasses of mineral water on the table in front of them.  And
talked! And talked!  And talked.

   "I worry sometimes, Joe, about how my cross-dressing is gradually taking
over my life, changing me.  I just can't resist dressing up and looking at
myself in my full-length mirror.  And I keep on buying knickers and
stockings and garter belts: can't resist them.  I just wish I could afford
more shoes as I've only got two pairs.  Then I lay down on my back and
imagine I'm being fucked by a strong, fit guy.  I have my legs over his
shoulders and he has bent me foreard so my arse is just right to shove his
cock in.  Of course, it's just my fingers...."

   "I'm the same, Josh, only with me I'm kneeling down and he's fucking me
from behind.  And do you know who the guy always is?"

   ???

   "It's you, Josh.  It's always you.  Do you think I'm gay?"

   "I've thought about that a lot, and decided it's not really gay.  I
think I can be two persons, one called Josh fucks girls and does it well.
The other likes dressing up in lingerie and admiring himself in the mirror,
and wants to be admired by other guys too, That's the person who wants to
be fucked.  I think I'm bi-sexual: sometimes girls, sometimes fit young
men. Joe, it's you I fantasise about, your cock in my arse...."

   "I guessed, Josh: saw how you looks at me sometimes when I'm stripped
off, sort of out of the side of your eyes in case I notice.  But that's me
too, two people in one.  Have you ever kissed a guy?"

   "No.  But I want to now."

   Heads turned to face each other, a slight mutual movement towards, and
they had an arm each around and open mouths pressed together.  Josh felt
Joe's tongue penetrate his mouth, gave it a moment and then forced his into
Joe's mouth.  He felt under the table, and Joe's cock was stiff: then Joe's
hand on his cock.  The embrace became even more passionate.

   The barman looked round the corner of the noisy television bar and saw
the two big, strong lads kissing.  He had them tagged as lovers from the
moment they came in, something in the way they looked at each other, a
sultry, sensual depth to their gaze.  And they were probably under-age for
the bar, but he let it go as they were only drinking mineral water.  They
were beyond his class, alpha males, but it did his heart good to see such
fit, handsome lads making out.  He smiled and went back to the match,
keeping the noisy crowd supplied with beer.

   The two came up for air, amazed but liberated by that kiss.

   "Jesus!  That was something!  Josh, we've got to make love, fuck each
other.  My parents are away tonight....  they do competitive ball-room
dancing.  Come over to my place and we can get it on."

   "Yeah!  We'll drop past my place and tell my mum I'm sleeping at yours,
pick up my pretties.  I'm going to wear my best fully-fashioned stockings:
I like the look of the fishnet, but nothing can beet the feel of
glossy...."

   The end (for now)

   I have a confession to make.  This story is based on one I read and
which I often remember, but I can't find it again and have no idea who
wrote it.  It was probably on Nifty.  Anyway, when I am dressed as Lady
Joyce Hamilton it is one of the fantasies that turns me on, as I love big,
strong guys.  My apologies to the author if it is too close to his (her?)
original, and not as good.

   I wrote the story in two sessions, and have just spell-checked it.  I
decided to leave the first night of Josh and Joe's new life together to the
reader's imagination, and stopped the story short here.  I wrote it today
dressed in my scarlet satin bra, panties, and suspender belt, with
expensive very fine fully fashioned tan nylons ("Gio" for those who know
about these things) and gold high heels, all under my gold satin kimono. 
Oh yes, and a long, straight ash-blonde wig to go with my pink lipstick and
blue eyes.

   I am douched, showered, perfumed, and have just ten minutes to post this
on-line.  I texted my favourite beefy lover when I had finished the
writing, imploring him to drop everything and come over: I always let him
bareback me as apart from his wife's pussy mine is the only one his cock
visits.  Bareback he is a repeater, and a right royal fuck!  The doorbell
will ring in about ten minutes.

   Dedicated to all tvs, and to their lovers whether macho males or tvs. 
Kisses, Lady Joyce Hamilton.