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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o  	The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of    o
o  stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the  o
o  world.  Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups).   There is no  o
o  particular  order  other than offering them to you in  alpha-  o
o  betical directories.                                           o
o   	Lest we forget!!!   This story was produced as adult en-    o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors.   Kristen         o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

The Camp Fire Girl (F/m, cd)
Penned by: Miss Deborah Leigh Johnson
           AKA Miss Karen-Anne Brown


What happens when a loving and well meaning sister decides that her
little brother should spend his summer vacation, in pretty clothes?
Join with us, and see how things transpire for our hero(ine).


    I know that this is going to be one of the most unusual times that
I have ever spent in my life, so I want to keep very accurate records
of all that happens this week. That is why I a.m. writing this diary
of my experiences for the week. I do not want to forget even the
smallest detail.

    First, let me tell you what situation we are in, okay ? We are
settled into a beautiful campsite in a park in Northern New York
state. It is raining out, a sort of wet drizzly kind of day. In spite
of the drizzle, we have decided to embark on our one week long camping
escapade anyway. Well, my sister Sharon was the one who decided for
us. I was voluntold that I was going to go with her. 

    We have managed to get our two tents set up, in spite of the rain.
One tent is a smaller one, with just enough room in it for the
sleeping cots that can just barely fit into it. It is a bit cramped,
but two people can get along in it, if they do not do much aside from
sleeping in it. 

    The other tent is the one we are sitting in now, as I a.m.
beginning my journal. It is a large tent, with flaps on all four
sides. It is what is referred to as a dining tent. Because it is not
raining too hard, we have put all four flaps up, to let whatever
breezes blow to come in, and hopefully help to dry things out for us.

    Where we are set up is just such a beautiful place. It is in the
Higley Flow state park, just outside of South Colton in New York. The
small cleared open space for our tents is surrounded by these huge
tall straight 60 to 70 foot pine trees that sway like graceful ballet
dancers in the wind. 

    We are on site 3 of loop A. It is so beautiful here. Another nice
thing is that there is almost no undergrowth here. All the hill tops,
under the pines are covered in a floor of brown pine needles. They are
so soft to walk on and they make a crinkly noise when you step on
them. They have such a delightful scent to. I love it here.

    Now, if you were in a car and you were driving by our camp site,
you would see two attractive young girls sitting at a picnic table,
inside the dining tent. There is lots of bright light in the tent, as
we have an electrical hook up at this site. It would be obvious to any
casual observer too, from their looks, that the two girls were
sisters. 

    One of the girls has short cropped blonde hair, a small cute pixy
like face with constantly smiling eyes. She is wearing a pair of cut
off denim jeans that are cut just above her knees. Draped over her
slim shoulders is loosely hung large bulky pink wool sweater. You
could not see it if you were driving by, but I know that under her
shorts and sweater, that the only things she is wearing are a delicate
pink silk pair of panties and its matching bra, trimmed with delicate
white lace. At her ankles, all bunched up, are her white knee socks
and on her feet are scruffy white sneakers. This girl's name is
Sharon.

    The other girl Brenda (me), looks younger than her sister. She is
younger. Sharon is eighteen, and as I a.m. only fifteen. Her (my) hair
is quite a bit longer than her sister's, falling in thick waves to her
shoulders. The damp air has made her hair complete in its unmanageable
curliness. Presently, her mop is pulled back from falling in her face
by her pink hair ribbon, which loosely gathers her hair back into an
informal loose ponytail, that is resting on her left shoulder. 

    Brenda is sitting at the picnic table, in a pink corduroy jumper
that has three quarter length legs and sleeves. It also has a wide
elastic waist band that tends to emphasise her waist's sliminess.
Also, her ankles are in white socks, bunched, like her sister's. On
her feet are pink sneakers. It is not evident from our seated
positions, but, the second girl is an inch and a half shorter than her
older sister. 

    Like Sharon, I too, a.m. wearing very pretty lingerie. Only, mine
are in a very pretty light mauve colour. The only differences between
what she is wearing under her outer clothes, and what I'm wearing,
under my outer clothes, is that I a.m. also wearing a few extra items
that my pretty sister is not wearing. 

    I a.m. also painfully aware that I a.m. wearing these extra items
as well. Partly that is because they do tend to give me a good deal of
discomfort, bordering on pain. Actually, I a.m. getting quite used to
them and, in some strange way, I do find them somewhat comforting. Let
me describe them to you, okay? 

   Firstly, glued to my chest by some adhesive that can not dissolve
in water, and for which Sharon had left the dissolving agent back
home, is a small pair of soft rubber breasts. These make my chest
bulge out to nearly 35", and fill up the cups of my lace trimmed satin
bra. Their weight makes the lace straps of my bra cut into my
shoulders most of the time. I like the way that feels.

   Actually, Sharon has gotten me to admit to her, that I really do
think that my breasts are pretty. I also had to admit that I really do
like having them on my chest. I also admitted that I like the way they
make me look more like as though I were a grown up girl, just like
Sharon. 

    I have to wear mostly, Sharon's old clothes. That is, I a.m.
wearing the clothes that she used to wear about two years ago. I have
to have almost exactly the same measurements that Sharon had, when she
was my age. 

   Presently, I do have those same measurements. The next special item
is a waist nipper corset, that is really quite tight. It has
successfully trimmed at least 5" from my waist, taking me down to an
18" waist line. It's very nice size for a young girl.

   The one that I a.m. wearing is made of a skin tone plastic kind of
material that is so tight that I can not get it off without her help
In fact I can not get it on without her help either. It is on me till
she decides that she will help me take it off, period. I guess that in
that sense, I a.m. imprisoned by it. That kind of feels nice to me.

    The last item that I wear that my sister is not wearing, is an
ingenious little device that she made for me. She'd sewn four small
round rings of metal to the bottom edge of my waist nipper, two on the
front and two on the back side. Then she had taken two lace trimmed
elastic bands, and sewn four small hooks to each end. She had then
sewn a triangle shape of heavy pink satin between the two elastics. I
put it between my legs, and hook the elastics on to the rings. 

   The satin triangle presses my penis up between my legs, tightly.
This very effectively flattens out my crotch, and makes me look just
exactly like my sister does, when she wears her panties. But, it also
makes me sit daintily. If I do not sit carefully, I can easily pull my
groin muscles the wrong way, which, I have learned is quite a painful
thing to do.    If someone were to see my exposed shadow, they would
see no trace of the only remaining five inches of boyhood, that I have
left to me. The way it smoothes me and makes me look like my sister,
very much pleases me. It will also let me pee without having to remove
it all the time, but I can only pee by sitting down on the toilet,
like any other girl. I a.m. not sure if I can remove this item by
myself or not either, but at present, I don't want to remove it. It
helps me so much to feel so much more girlish when I feel that
constant restraint between my legs. 

   You see, I always get very, very excited by wearing my sister's
clothes especially her pretty panties. I have done so ever since the
first time that she wanted to dress me up in her lacy little frocks
and her soft silk panties. The first time was when I was only at the
age of two years. Because I feel this way about wearing girl's
clothing, I have always needed something to keep me under control.
Because this is device is attached to elastics, if I do get an
erection, which is almost a constant state for me when ever I a.m.
wearing a pair of girl's panties, it does have some stretchyness to
it. 

   But, the stretchyness is not enough to ever allow even a bulge to
show. I've even worn tight spandex cycling shorts, when I had it on,
and the only thing that was visible at all were my panty lines. 



I have always loved my sister's pretty clothes.

   I have tried to describe what you might see if you were just
driving by the campsite, that is, except for the description of our
frilly feminine underwear. Sharon, the older girl is reading a book.
And of course, you'd see the pretty younger girl writing these words
in her new pretty pink diary.

    This site has almost no other people in it at the present time.
There is, over on our left, site 5, a camper, but no one is at home
right now. Across the street from us, on site 1, is an older man and
his wife. He is really nice too. His name is Harold and he came over
and gave us some kerosene soaked kindling wood and a box of water
proof matches so that, if we wanted to get a fire going, we'd be able
to. He even told us how to build it to make sure that it will light
and work right. I think he just likes being around young girls. 

   Sharon really teased me a lot after Harold left. Let me try and
explain to you, why she did that okay? 

   You see, Sharon knows that I have envied her for being able to wear
dresses, for as long as I can even remember. Sharon knew that, and
Sharon encouraged it. Ever since I can remember, Sharon has enjoyed
having me for a sister. But, it was also our very closely guarded
secret. 

    No one knew about me wearing her dresses whenever she would baby
sit me. She always babysat me when my parents left us alone. No one
knew that I almost always wore silk panties under my boy's outerwear.
No one knew that I always wore lacy dresses and spent all my time
playing with my sister's pretty dolls, at every chance that I got to
do so. Neither did anyone know that my sister had a special section of
her closet, for my dresses. These were the clothes that she had out
grown, that I had grown into. 

  When ever my mom wanted to throw them out, Sharon was always found a
reason for keeping them, without betraying our secret. So, I always
had my own girl's ward robe to wear, that fit me perfectly.

  Sharon knew some of the girlish boys at school, and she knew that
they also had a very, very hard time of it at the school. So, she
helped me learn how to act like a boy at school, and she taught me and
encouraged me to act like her little sister while I was at home. But
it was secret. Sharon, as far as we knew, was the only person alive
who had ever seen me dressed as Brenda. She was the only person who
ever called me Brenda. Sharon now thought that it was time to change
that situation. 

   Our parents left for a three and a half week business trip about
three days ago and they agreed that Sharon was responsible enough to
leave in charge of her little brother, while they were away. I was
delirious. I knew that this would be the first time in my life that I
would be able to do things the way real girls do them. I could go to
bed one day, sleeping in a night gown, after I had taken off the dress
I had worn all day long, and then when I awoke, be able to put on new
dress or skirt to wear for the next day. 

I knew to, that I'd be able to sleep in Sharon's room, sharing just a
wee bit more, the joys and intimacy of the privileged life of being a
girl. I knew that I would not have to wear any boy's clothes at all,
not even for even one long minute of this summer vacation time. I
could experience being a real girl. I was ecstatic about the idea.

   Little did I realise that Sharon too had been thinking of having a
little sister around for three weeks. As we had known about the
pending trip for nearly a month, she'd had a lot of time to formulate
her ideas and her plans. I got my breasts and my waist nipper because
she had time to plan my girlhood for me. I had not even suspected what
her plan was. 

    Her plan was, simply this. No one ever knew that I loved being a
girl, because we had always kept it in secret. And because we were
terrified of me ever being exposed as a fairy, I had never been
outside of the house, while I was dressed up as Brenda. My sister had
made the decision that I should get to experience what it was really
like, to have the whole world treat me like I was a pretty girl. She
was pretty sure that I would never agree to her idea of masquerading
me as a real girl in public, because of this intense fear that I had
of being discovered. She was also aware that I had an absolute and
complete lack of confidence in my feminine persona. I'd only been a
girl at home, after all. She was right. I would never have agreed to
do it, if she had told me her plans. 

    The first day that our parents left, Sharon insisted that I make
myself as completely as girlish as I could be. She found that I did
not want to resist her. Within two hours of their leaving, I'd become
hairless, not that I had massive amounts of body hair anyway. I had
also luxuriated in a steamy flowery scented bubble bath. I had also
dressed to the nines. This also included the rare pleasure of wearing
jewellery, make-up and perfume. She'd taught me all about makeup, but
I never had the chance to use it very often. 

    This was the enticement that she used to get me to agree to let
her help me into the waist nipper and to let her glue the pretty
little breasts onto my chest. She did not tell me that in order to
remove them, that there was a special chemical that I'd have to use,
and that I could not take them off with out it. That was when she
showed me the crotch apparatus that she'd made for me. I was nearly
delirious when I stood in front of the mirror that first time, looking
at my flat feminine crotch in my silken panties. Even though I had a
very painful hard on, my pantied crotch looked just like any other
girl's crotch, in her panties.

    This just had to be one of the most dear and exciting moments of
my short life to date. I saw the way the delicate lace trimming of the
bra cups caressed my new slight bulges, and how the now full cupped
bra forced the bulges on my chest. I saw the newly thinned waist line,
and the really flat belly that gave me the curves of a girl, curves
that I had envied my sister for having. I saw the way the silk slip
draped over my new girlish curves, when I lowered the lingerie down
over my head.

    I sat and applied the makeup, the perfume, and then adorned myself
with the jewellery. After an hour, I went to the closet and tried on a
dress that she had just given me. Because it was so pretty, Sharon had
not allowed me to wear it before. But that morning, it was in my
section of her closet. I exhilarated at the loudly rustling crinolines
as I raised the light green satin knee length dress over my head, and
let slowly lower down over me, enveloping me in it's utter femininity.
If one could ever get addicted to wearing girl's clothes, then this
dress could be the cause of my addiction. I was utterly girlish in it.
This feeling of being pretty and feminine was addictive to me.

    I adjusted the puffy effeminating sleeves, and slid up the zipper,
in the back. I knew that it would not have looked or fit right without
the new breasts I now had. I also knew that it was tight enough around
the elasticised waist, that without the new waist nipper, I would
never have been able to do up the zipper.

    It would not have fit me the way that it did without these new
additions to my ward robe that my loving sister Sharon had just given
me. The waist nipper was so tight that it was like a vice about my
waist. But when I saw what I was able to look like in this dress, I
was glad that I had laid on the bed and let her lace up the laces in
the back as tightly as she did. At the time though, I was sure she was
trying to kill me. 

For the first time in my entire short life, I knew that I looked like
a lovely if not sexy young lady. I stepped into high heeled shoes and
sat at the vanity, waiting for Sharon to come to dress my hair. I felt
every inch like a young lady.

   It had taken me about three hours to get so completely girlified.
It was all worth it though, as I saw my reflection and I experienced
feeling so feminine. I had never ever been allowed to get so
completely girlish looking before, and I was enjoyably thrilled.

     I was so completely engrossed with this experience of my utter
effemination, and the ensuing examination of my girl self, that I
really had no idea of what Sharon had been up to while I was so
engaged. I had not even given her much of a thought, to be entirely
honest with you. 

    When she came up the stairs and entered the room, I stood up for
her. With a loud rustling of my crinoline slips, I curtsied to her, as
prettily as I could, in just exactly the way that she had taught me to
curtsy. When she saw me, her eyes lit up and she clapped her hands in
glee, at the vision "of loveliness she had created," (her words) that
I made.     She soon had my hair swept up in the back, and falling in
a big wave to over my left ear. She pinned it and sprayed it and
teased it, and all the while she chattered on and on about what a
gorgeous and foxy little chick I made. She talked about how every guy
on the street would have a hard on in his pants for me, if they could
see me now. 

    I told her I wished she wouldn't talk like that, as it made me
feel kind of uncomfortable. She chided me, telling me that if I was
going to be a girl, I had better get used to being foxy, and to making
the guys, as hard as I could, because, that was why we girls got as
pretty as we did. She told me that if I ever expected to be a girl, I
had better get used to the way that real girls talked about guys. And,
if I did not want other girls to think I was queer or something that I
had better learn how to be like and to talk just exactly like a real
normal girl. She also said that at my age, that meant talking all
about guys. She said that was 99% of what girls my age talked about. 

    While my mind was on that taboo subject, she very quickly, before
I could lodge my resistance to her actions, had pierced my ears and
inserted the studs. I had shiny diamond studs reflecting prettily from
my lobes. If I had not thought they were cute and so delicately
beautiful, I would have been angry at her. But, it did make me feel
just that much more of a girl, actually. I think she knows me better
than I know myself.

     I spent the rest of that day dressed in what I came to think of
as my princess dress. It made me feel like was a princess albeit a
"fairy princess". Sharon kept taking many more photographs of me, and
every once in a while, I would find that she was focusing the video
camera on me as well. I loved it. I guess that I a.m. a natural born
starlet, Tee Hee Hee.

     At the end of this wonderful day, I wore a sheer pink baby doll
pyja.m.a set to bed. Not only that, but I slept like a girl in
Sharon's bed, with her that night to. She thought I would feel more
like a girl, sleeping in a girl's room. She was right to. But that was
only the beginning awakenings of my newly realised girl self.

And, for the first time in my life, Sharon started kissing me, and
caressing my girlified form. She played with my little rock hard cock
right through my panties. I could do nought by lay there passively,
feeling every inch a girl. After driving me almost nuts with pleasure,
she showed me how to masturbate a girl. I had never seen a girl orgasm
before. When I saw the way she just lay on her back and gave herself
over to the sensations caused by my probing fingers, I envied what she
was able to feel. I wished that it could be me that could have fingers
inside of me like that. 

    Then, she told me to pretend that I was the girl, and that she was
my boy friend. She caressed my breasts, kissed my lips and eyes, ran
her hand down inside the back of my panties, causing me to feel
sensations that I did not know were possible for me to feel. Then she
masturbated me by touching me in the same way that she told me that
the guys liked to touch girls. I could not help it. I never would
admit it to her, but as she was touching me, bringing me to the
wildest orgasm that had ever shaken my body. All the while, she was
talking to me, and telling me what a guy does with a girl that he
likes. I wished that for a moment that she really had been a guy. In
my mind, she was my boy friend, for a few minutes. It just seemed so
natural, somehow. I wanted to be a girl.

    I was sorely ashamed of the thoughts I had let go freely through
my mind, after she made me climax, and I was glad that I had not
confessed to her what my thoughts had been. I did not want to be a
faggot. I just liked the feeling I had, when I dressed up like a girl,
and that was all I wanted to do. I did not like the scenes of being a
girl with a guy that had been coursing through my imagination when she
was caressing me and talking to me, telling me what boys always wanted
to and liked to do, to sexy young girls. 

    My slept was peppered with vivid dreams of me being a girl, and in
most of the dreams, I was a girl and I was with a cute boy from my
home room class at school.

    I was able to be Brenda for all the next day to. All day long,
Sharon kept telling me how pretty I was, and how I just had to have
the guts to try going outside and living like a normal girl lives, at
least once in my life. Under her constant prodding influence, and the
excitement that wearing such pretty clothes for such an extended
period of time gave me, I finally agreed to let her take me outside
the next day. 

    The next day came too quickly, and was now, this morning. It was
only an hour ago that she told me about the glued on breasts were
unremovable and that she had packed no boy's clothes at all. So, if I
wanted to stop being a girl, I would have to steal some clothes from a
boy. But, even then, I'd still have breasts and that I would have
breasts till we got back home again. So, she even counselled me to
relax and enjoy being treated the way all pretty girls get to be
treated. She confided that she knew that I was going to love getting
treated the way that all pretty girls get treated.

     I found I was truly and literally trapped by my own feminine
compulsions, and now I had no alternative but to be the most
convincing girl that I could be. I soon learned that while I had been
dressing myself with such an abandonment as a girl, that first
morning, that Sharon had been busy packing and stowing all of our
supplies for this camping trip that she had planned for us.

     So, as I started to explain before, that is what led up to her
teasing me about Harold. Harold was the first person, aside from
Sharon, who had ever seen me as a girl. He was also the first person,
aside from Sharon that ever called me Brenda. When he came over, he
smiled, like men do, when they are addressing pretty girls, and he had
offered us his assistance. Sharon took my hand and forced me to follow
her out of the dining tent, and she told him her name, and then told
him that I was her little sister. I could not escape it. If I did not
act like a girl, I could be in deep trouble. I liked knowing that I
had no more choice in the matter.

    He smiled charmingly at us and asked us a few questions. And, some
of them, I had to answer because he had asked them directly of me. I
stood there acutely aware that he was seeing the feminine curves and
the flat pubes of a teen aged girl, as I stood there, in my tight form
enhancing pink overalls. As I'd often seen girls do, I cocked one foot
out to the side, and folded my arms under my new breasts, and hoped
that I was convincing to him. I do not remember what he talked about,
because I was so scared, and terrified that he would see how badly I
was shaking. If he noticed that, he might be able to figure that there
was something wrong with me. He did see that I was shaking, and he
suggested that in that kind of damp mountain weather, that a delicate
outfit such as I was wearing should be supplemented by a warm sweater,
or I would not just have a case of the shakes, but a serious sickness.
I smiled at him, and like a polite young lady, I thanked him for his
concern. I promised to put a sweater on right away.

     I shrugged into a pink long sleeved wool sweater as he walked
back across the road to his own camp site, and then I had to endure
listening to Sharon imitate him, as she repeated some of the kind
words that he had said to me. She got her point across. I had to just
get used to the fact that for this week anyway, people were going to
treat me like a pretty if not weak minded young girl. And I would have
to learn to react to it in the same way that girls learned to react,
or maybe I might cause myself some real trouble and other problems.

     If I had to admit it to Sharon, I'd have to thank her for forcing
me into my girlhood for the next week. I kind of like knowing that
being a girl is not my choice now, it was the only option that I had.
If I didn't want to get seriously beat up or something, I'd better be
the most convincing young lady that I was capable of being... 

 7:30 p.m.

    I was just not able to resist it any longer, so Sharon just took
me to the first ladies bath room that I've ever been in. It is up the
hill and around a corner to the left from our site. I felt strange
walking over to it. Most of the people who saw us, smiled and greeted
us. I knew that they knew that I was going to a girl's public
bathroom. I knew that they were seeing a girl in me, doing what a
normal girl does.

    All the stalls were made of this beautiful pine panelling. The
room smelled of the musty damp mountain air. It was what can only be
described as rustic, in appearance. The only difference between it and
the boy's wash rooms that I was used to being in, is that there is no
urinals. And there was extra sinks and mirrors. I felt funny knowing
that I was really a boy, as I sat and peed like a girl pees, while in
a girl's bath room. I also liked knowing that this circumstance is
forced on me, for at least the next week. I looked around at the stall
walls, wondering if I could ever feel normal in this place. As I left
the washroom building, Sharon took a picture of me coming out of the
door. I knew that the big word 'WOMEN' would be seen over my head when
the photo was developed. I grinned, knowing that she was going to do
these kinds of things to me, all this week. I would have a complete
photo journal of my week as a girl.

    Back at the campsite, she teased me in a gentle way, and asked me
how I had liked going into the girl's bath room instead of a boy's.
All I could say that was I had really needed to pee badly. She giggled
and went back to her book. 

9;45 p.m. 

  The family to the left of our campsite just came back. There is an
older man, the father maybe, the mother and what looks like a younger
woman and her husband, and two teenage boys who are being kind of
loud. 

The boys are constantly looking over this way, with a lot of interest.
I shudder to think that a boy is looking at me as though I was really
a desirable teen aged girl, but I kind of like having the interest
paid to me to. 

I hope that I am not going queer.  Sunday August 11 1991 11:30 a.m. 

    We decided to go into South Colton to have our breakfast this
morning. Boy was I scared out of my wits, as I walked into Smiley's
Country Kitchen, the little hole in the wall local diner that you
would expect to find in a small rural town. 

   Sharon insisted that since it was Sunday, that we should both wear
skirts if we were going to be in public. I love wearing skirts, even
if I have never worn one in public before, so I did not resist her
suggestion. 

   I have on a white silk blouse that is thin enough so that my lacy
bra and slip straps are clearly visible through it, and I am wearing a
kind of short white pleated skirt. I also have a wide red plastic belt
around my waist, that really draws attention to the sliminess of my
waist line. I feel pretty, even though I am scared shitless. 

    The restaurant was mostly full, and it was very obvious that it
was mostly local people who were the patrons. The main room had two
large round tables, where people got up and left, and others took
their places, in a continual stream of diners. We sat in a kind of
little alcove at the front of the diner, seated right in the front
window. 

This was my very first time being out in a public room dressed as
Brenda. I was so scared that someone would see a boy in the clothes
that I was wearing. I hurried to the table, in the hopes that no one
would notice me or my sister. Little had I understood the attraction
power that pretty young girls have for people in general, men in
particular.

    Since most of the patrons were men, and we looked like we were
young pretty girls, that was not too likely to happen, that we could
escape a lot of attention. Many friendly smiles were directed to us as
we made our way across the room, and sat down in the alcove. True, I
was as skittish as a kitten, but I was thankful for that crotch piece
that Sharon had made for me. I found that just doing something that
any normal girl does, was giving me one glorious erection in my pretty
silk panties. I loved being taken for being a girl. 

    That is always the way it had been with me. It is not that I love
being a boy that is wearing girl's clothes that excites me so much,
though that is a true statement. That is not really it at all. What
really excites me is that I am a boy, but I that I am being allowed to
do something that only normal girls do. Not only am I being allowed to
do it, but I know that I am expected to act like a girl, and gawd
alone knew what would happen to me, if I did not act like a real girl.
I loved it.

    It is the experiencing of being and doing normal feminine things,
that normal girls do without a second thought, that so turns me on. I
hoped my panties would not split at the crotch, as I found that being
a girl in a public place was a very, very terribly exciting experience
for me. Sharon kept smiling at me, because she knew the discomfort and
yet, the secret bliss that I was feeling at the moment. 

   Our breakfasts took a long time in coming. When they finally came,
they were so plentiful that I knew that with my waist nipped in the
way that it was, I'd never be able to eat it all. Sharon did not have
that problem and attacked my plate as well as hers. While we ate, the
owner of the diner came out of the kitchen and started to read out a
poem that a visiting patron had written, as he had stopped for his
breakfast at this diner, the morning before. 

    He apparently had been just passing through the town, and while he
was eating, he had written down his impressions of the place. After se
read the poem, they started making plans to make a nice frame for it,
and hang it over the bar on the wall. From the way they talked, the
man had only been there for twenty minutes, but every one could
remember where he sat and what he had looked like. I knew that if they
could remember him, then they would be able to describe the two girls
that had come in, just as accurately, tomorrow morning. I blushed as I
thought of the image that I presented to them.

     Sharon told me to go to the bath room before we got back into the
car. Blushing profusely, I rose and gracefully, without too much swish
in my stride, walked over towards the door sign that said "Wash
Rooms." I looked for the door with the girl on it, and went inside. 

     It was very rustic, very small, and not really clean either. I
did have to pee really badly.

     I went into the stall and raised my skirt, lowered my panties and
did what I had come in to do. On the way out, I checked the mirror for
my makeup, such as it was early on a Sunday morning. I nervously
glanced up, as I came out of the room. Almost all of the guys were
watching me. They knew I had gone into a girl's bathroom to do a
girl's thing in there. Feeling like everyone was looking at me, I
lowered my eyes demurely to the floor, and made my bashful way back to
the table. Sharon wanted us to stay for a second cup of coffee. 

     After a few more minutes, a young family came in to the diner.
The woman caught my eye, partly because of my envy of her. She was a
pretty blond wearing a pair of tight blue jeans and a casual loose
fitting but becoming white linen blouse. She had a pretty baby in her
arms. Her husband was kind of tall and thin, with a thick black
shadow, showing where his beard would be if he did not shave soon, and
a mass of curly black hair. He wore blue jeans and a red plaid
lumberjack jacket. I could not help but to notice that he had thick
knotted muscles in the backs of his big hands. He must be a very
strong man.

     I watched the woman as she settled her baby into a high chair
that was brought and placed beside her. Then she greeted all of her
friends who were already seated around the table. I could tell that
she seemed to really like her husband, from the way she was treating
him. She very often reached over to touch his forearm and smile at
him. She was very attentive to her baby's needs also. I could not help
but to wonder what she felt like as she lived her daily life. I was
half willing to trade places with her, so that I could be her.  I
found that I was envying her for her life style. With a start, I
realised that if I was her, that I would do exactly as she did. She
did his laundry and took care of his baby, cooked his meals and then
she probably crawled into bed every night, and gave him a good reason
to have come home to her bed. 

    I looked at him, and found myself wondering what he looked like,
lying naked in a bed. He was probably all covered in black hair. I
shuddered with the shame of my thoughts. I was actually envying this
woman, and knowing that if I could trade places with her, that I would
have. I knew that I would have also given him a reason to be glad that
he had come home to lie in my bed at night, just as his loving wife
did for him. 

    I had to somehow make myself stop thinking such queer thoughts, I
knew, or I would really end up in trouble. What if I could never stop
myself from thinking about men like a girl does?

     When it was time to leave, Sharon took out some money to pay the
bill, and left it with the bill on the table. The bill was for a few
dollars, and she had taken out a twenty. Then she smiled at me and
told me to go and pay the bill. I knew that I had to do it, as she
quickly  got up and left me sitting there in the restaurant. 

    I picked the money up and walked over to where the cash register
was. I was acutely aware of every male eye on my naked legs below my
short skirt hem, and on my pert little tits. One guy even made some
funny joke, but I was too far away from his table to hear what it was
that he had said. The older lady who seemed to own the place heard him
though. 

    "Jack Morgan, you just keep your tongue to yourself." She turned
to me with a motherly kind of smile. "You don't pay any attention to
the likes of him, Honey. He just gets a bit carried away sometimes.
You see, the way he is, he don't got to see pretty girls very much." 

    I could tell from the reaction to her words that she had made some
kind of joke about Jack Morgan, but I did not understand what it was.
His friends laughed at his rebuff though. I smiled, trying to convey
to her that I was used to having men ogle me, but that it still made
me shy.

    When we got back to the campsite, Harold and his wife had left
already. The family next door were packing up as well. They wanted to
know if we would like some kindling wood and some paper for starting
our camp fires. It turned out that they also had quite a bit of split
wood that they did not want to take back with them. Sharon said that
we would need it, and she wanted to go over and get it. The older man
insisted that his sons could bring it over to us. He said that there
was no reason for us to dirty our pretty little hands, when he had tow
strapping boys who would be very willing to do this for us.

    This was a strange feeling to experience for me, to stand
passively idly by, watching someone do something for me. Sharon kept
grinning at me as the younger of the two boys made a point of saying
something to me every time he brought another armload of fire wood
over. He had a shiny earring in his left earlobe, and he was nice.

    Now, we find that we are all alone in this section of the
campsite. The only person we see is the security man as he makes his
bi-hourly rounds, to make sure that no one is causing us any trouble.
I am also walking more than I have ever walked in my life. Sharon
keeps dragging me off to the various loops, to see what the camps and
the big RV campers look like. She teases that she is really looking to
see what the young men campers look like.

    She keeps teasing me that she is going to get me a boyfriend,
whether I like it or not. I hate to admit it, but something deep
inside of me wishes that she really could. She says that if you want
to attract a guy, you have to advertise your presence, and so, she
walks through the loops a lot. Really, except for reading and writing,
there is not much also to do here anyway. We can swim, but the weather
has not been warm enough for that yet. We can't sun bathe as it is
overcast today, and every once in a while, we get a little sprinkling
of rain. I find it's fascinating under the pines, because, you do not
get all the rain that is coming down. I guess the boughs, so high
overhead catch the rain and it runs down the trunks of the trees,
instead of falling on our heads. 

 Monday August 12 1991
    1:30 p.m.

    Today is the first half decent weather we have gotten since we set
up our tents on Saturday. There were a lot of clouds early on, but the
sun keeps shining through, enough that the air has really warmed up
during the day.

     It got warm enough that, for the first time in my life, I
actually went for a swim while wearing a girl's swim suit, at a public
beach. It was absolutely just a fantastic experience.

     Sharon wore a bright day glow pink bikini, trimmed in a lovely
delicate white lace. She is just such a knockout in it. If I was a
guy, at last not the kind of guy I am at the present time, but like a
regular boy, I'd be all over her. She is one very foxy young lady.
Sharon tells me that I am a fox too, but I don't really believe her. I
think she is just trying to make me feel less conscious of her looks.

     My swim suit is a pretty one piece. It has to be a one piece,
with the back high enough to hide the waist nipper that I am so
tightly laced into. The corset goes nearly half the way up my back. My
suit is a beautiful pale blue satin, a light azure blue colour. The
neck string tie up behind my neck in a bow, leaving the top half of my
back and all of my shoulders bare. It also has a wee satin bow at the
bottom of the V neck line.

     It is the same suit Sharon used to wear two years ago. My breasts
fill the smallish cups very nicely. With the flat cinched in waist
that I have, my hips look much wider than they really are. Also
accentuating my hips, is a little six inch frill, sort of like a very
short skirt, around my lower part of my suit.

    Just a few minutes before I went down onto the beach, I had passed
myself in the full length mirror in the ladies change room. At the
first glance, I hadn't even recognised my own refection. For a moment,
I actually wondered who that foxy young chick was, when I first saw my
own reflection. When it dawned on me that I was seeing my own self in
the glass,  I silently prayed and just hoped that everyone else who
saw me, would also think the same thing about me, the same as what I
had thought for that brief moment.

    Though it was the first really warm day since the weekend, we
pretty well had the beach to ourselves. Because of the rainy weather,
the whole campsite is nearly empty. That suits us (me) just fine. I
find it nerve wracking enough to be walking on a public beach in a
girl's bathing suit, without having a lot of people looking at me
while I am doing it to. We spent about two hours at the beach, then
headed back to our campsite. Sharon is absolutely amazed that I am
still not confident of being a girl.

    We returned to our campsite around four o'clock. The next site to
ours, number 5, had became one of the few occupied ones in our loop,
while we were down at the beach. There beside our site, sits a large 4
wheel drive camper truck, with a long canoe on the top of it, and the
new family. Their father is in a wheelchair. His wife flits around
taking care of everything. 

    There are also three teen aged boys, we noted. They look like the
are about 17, 15 and 12 in ages. The two older boys just sat at the
picnic table and stared at us, when they saw us coming back from the
beach. It was a really quite a funny feeling for me. I've looked at
girls in that manner before, and I know the kind of eerie mesmerising
effect that a pretty girl can have on a boy. It is so very strange to
know that it is me as a girl, who is doing the mesmerising now. It is
not the other way around this time. It makes me feel kind of powerful,
in a way.

     We walked and watched the boys. When we got back to the campsite.
Sharon whispered at me, unceasingly going on and on about how cute the
boys were, as we busied ourselves doing our normal house keeping
chores. We were trying to look busy, trying to make them think that we
were doing something else, than paying even the slightest attention to
them. She giggled playfully, as she told me that the boys had to sit
down, because they did not want their parents to see their hard ons.

      We tried not to notice as the middle aged of the boy gets on his
bike and pulls the youngest boy by a tow rope. The youngest one is on
roller blades, and his brother really causes him to move very fast,
much to his delight.

     The oldest boy does not look like he really belongs to the
family. They all have dark hair, while he has light blonde, almost
reddish hair. He is pretty tall, about 5' 8". He is on the thin side,
not really thin, but rather, more lithe and sinewy. Sharon likes him,
I can tell.

     The next oldest of the boys is a bit shorter than the blond boy,
maybe around 5' 6" tall. Even at 5' 6" though, he is still a bit
taller than Sharon. She is 5' 4" 1/2" tall while I am a shrimpy one
inch shorter than she is. Sharon kept teasing me till she finally made
me admit to her that I did indeed, think that the two boys were cute.
She was embarrassing me terribly, and she knew it. She just wanted me
to be a real girl though.

     But that was all that I would say about what I thought about the
boys. As it was, my face was burning and I blushed with very hot
cheeks. I had never before in my life ever looked at a boy and thought
of a boy as being cute. Now, I had. I could hardly believe that I had
looked at those boys over there, and that I had actually thought of
them as being cute guys.

     I was so embarrassed about my feelings. I was also getting more
than a little worried about myself. Maybe I really was turning into a
faggot after all? And that I had just not known it about myself
before? I hoped that it was not true, but I had to admit to myself
that I liked knowing that I was doing, saying and feeling the same
kinds of things that real girls do.

      Life just seemed so unfair some times. It would have been so
much simpler if I had just had the same hormones flowing in my blood,
that my pretty sister had in hers. I'd love to have to live a real
girl's life, because I was a real girl, not because I was forced to be
one. I really hated the thought of having to live a faggot's life. I
knew all the jokes about guys like that... Now I had to also say...
Guys... Other guys who were just like me now. Guys who wore panties
and dresses to feel pretty, and who thought about how cute other guys
were. I hated to admit this truth to myself.

     As my mind dwelt on the thoughts of "guys like me...", I
remembered the last guy like that, that I had heard about. It was in
the high school locker room. As I remembered it, the whole scene
replayed through my mind. About six guys were in there towelling off
after showering, following a rigorous gym class. 

     Suddenly one of the guys piped up loudly, saying, "Hey, did you
hear that Rockdale High's got a new wrestler on their team? They say
that though he is the smallest guy on the team, that he can't be beat,
not by anyone. He's won every match he's ever been in." 

    "Oh yeah? How's that possible?"

    "Well, they say he's a real pretty little fairy, a real swishy
type you know... But there is no one who can beat him. You see, he's
got a secret hold that he uses and no one knows how to counter it."
"Oh yeah? What's it like?"

     "Yeah... What he does is he puts a lip lock on the love muscle.
And guess what? No one wants to resist his hold, or counter it. So he
beats everyone that way."

     I remembered the loud derision in the laughter as the guys caught
on to the joke about the rival school's wrestling team. Now, there
seemed to be a very real possibility, that kind of joke just might be
made about me to. I shivered in my abhorrence of such a thought. Yet,
I had to admit reality to myself. The fact was that I was sitting
here, wearing my pretty sister's girl's clothing. The fact was, that I
had just admitted to my sister that I had actually thought that a
another guy was a cute boy. I also had to admit that I had just
thought about the possibility that it might just be me who was the
swish, in the locker room joke.   With resolve, I tried to put these
disturbing thoughts out of my mind. They were very uncomfortable
thoughts indeed. What would my dad say, if he could look into my mind
at that moment?

     Sharon grabbed my arm gently, shaking me out of my reverie, and
told me it was time to go to the bath house for our showers. It was
also time for a change of clothes. Meekly, I went with her. I hoped
desperately that no one would find out that the brown haired girl in
the women's shower stall, had a cock in her panties.

     Sharon had already gotten a bag full of fresh clothing and towels
for us, with shampoos and all the other stuff that we would need. As
we walked the half mile to the bath house, she also told me that it
was time for me to have to spend a bit of time shaving my legs again.
She reminded me that I had to keep them silky smooth and hairless at
all times, in order to avoid any kind of suspicion, and to make the
guys look at my legs. 

    We arrived at the bath house, and we were pleased to find that no
one else was there. I went into a stall and very carefully shaved my
legs, my arms, my under arms and my chest, all around my breasts but
not my face. I still had almost no hair on my chest, and had not yet
started to shave my face yet, so I did not have that problem to deal
with, but Sharon told me to do it anyway. It had always been a source
of merriment for my friends that at my age, that my face was still as
prettily hairless and soft as any girl's face. Now, for the first time
in my life, I was really glad for this fact of my life.

     When I was done, Sharon helped me dry myself and then she helped
me gather my hair back into one of her banana clips. It was a bright
yellow clip. She checked my ears to make sure that there was no
infection in the newly pierced lobes, and was pleased to report that I
had no infections. She gave a fresh pair of panties and a matching bra
that were of white satin trimmed with delicate pink lace. They were so
pretty, that I nearly swooned at the thought of being allowed to wear
them.

     These, I put on as quickly as was possible for me to do so. I did
not want anyone coming in and seeing me half dressed, lest they
discover that I was not a real girl. But I just could not resist
taking a moment to enjoy the wave of girlishness that washed over me,
as I thought of myself being able to wear such delicate and pretty
under things.

     As it was very hot out, and since we were camping, I did not have
to wear a slip. The dress that Sharon gave me to wear was a dusty rose
colour. The dress was a very loose fitting garment that had a sash tie
at the back. She tied it very loosely in a big floppy bow. I stepped
into a pair of white leather single crossed strapped low heeled
skimmers. I felt almost naked, as the closed were so very skimpy. But
girls dressed like this all the time in the summer. It was normal
attire for a pretty girl who was seeking to announce her availability.
Sharon was determined that I should experience all that real girls do.

     Sharon had put on a loose see through white shirt with tight
bright red satin short shorts. She also wore a pair of white leather,
X strapped skimmers. Our daily ablutions done, we headed back to our
campsite. Because the weather had turned out so nice, we took the long
way around. That also meant that we would have to pass by in front of
the boys next door to our campsite, on our way home.

     As we walked by, we noticed that they had hung a sign out on a
tree, advertising that the family name was Nicholson. Mrs. Nicholson
was overtly friendly and she smiled warmly as we neared their site.
She asked us if we were staying long. We stopped to chat for a while
and she warned us that their boys had been watching us very closely.
She told us that we should expect them to come and visit us. She
giggled girlishly.  Just as she was telling us that, the two older
boys were just returning to the campsite. They bought up the
opportunity to get to know us by quickly engaging us in a light
conversation about the town of Canton. We were vaguely familiar with
the town, as we had passed through it on our way to South Colton. From
what I remembered, it was a very pretty little "Anywhere, USA" kind of
town. 

    They invited us over to play cards with them later that night, and
Sharon agreed for us. I knew from the look in her eye that it would be
better for me, not to disagree with her. I knew that she wanted to get
to know that older boy. I suspected that she wanted me to get to know
the younger one in the same manner as she wanted to know the older one
too. 

    I was nervous and scared, and on pins and needles for the next
three hours. I knew that it would do no good to try and talk Sharon
out of it. Finally the time arrived. It was finally the time to go
over to the campsite next door to us. She teased me about going on my
first date, which did not help me to relax at all.

     Mr. and Mrs. Nicholson had left to go and to do some grocery
shopping in Canton. They had taken the youngest son with them. So
there was only the two older boys and us. Sharon looked so hot in
those satin shorts, that I knew the boys would have hard ons for her.
Boy was I ever scared. I had never been in this situation before and I
really did not know how to act. We sat at the picnic table, boy beside
girl, facing each other.

     We had been right in our guess about Danny, the oldest boy. He
was not a family member. The oldest son, Chris was 16. Chris was
sitting beside me, a wee bit too close for my comfort. We started to
play gin rummy, and soon we found, including me, that we were laughing
and joking at almost every little thing that happened or was said. It
was stupid and insane, but it was fun.

     I had to admit to myself that it really was very different being
treated like a girl, by guys. They do not treat girls like they treat
other guys at all. It's like everything they do is geared to try to
please the girl, and try to win her approval of them.

     Guys just wanted to show each other how good they were at things.
I'd never been treated so favourably before. Usually I was sort of
scorned for being so small, and for being some what girlish. I'd never
ever been really accepted without a hard trial of having to compete
and prove myself to the other guys first. 

    Now, much to my amazement, all that I had to do was to titter like
an empty headed girl, and I was accepted. I was not only accepted, but
Chris was trying very hard to make me like him. I loved it to.

     For example, I found that Chris was trying to be very sensitive
to just about anything that would cause me to not like him. And, he
was going out of his way to make sure that I was happy. If I wanted a
drink, he'd jump up to go and get it. I mentioned that I was hungry,
and Chris ran to the camper to get us Cokes and chips. I liked having
this kind of influence over a guy, and, I flirted just a little to see
what girls could do to guys. I was quite pleased and surprised that
Chris seemed to be so reactive to just about everything that I did.
Actually, I found that I laughed a lot as they were trying hard so
very hard to get us girls in a good mood. We really did have a lot of
fun. We even agreed to meet the boys the next morning to go for a
swim.

     Once I had gotten into my pyjamas, and was settling into my
sleeping bag, Sharon began teasing me about all the ways that she had
noted that I was teasing and flirting with Chris. She told me that I
was acting a just exactly like a boy crazed thirteen year old teeny
bopper. I did not think so, and I argued with her about it.

     I had not realised that I was being such a flirt, but, as she
reminded me of the little very girlish type of things that I had done
and that I had said, I did realise that Sharon had been right. I had
been acting like a boy crazy teeny bopper. It must have been because
of my nervousness about being a girl with a boy, we decided. 

    I promised her that I would try to cool it from now on. I did
admit to her that I did have a lot of fun being treated like a cute
girl. I also admitted to my sister that I had more fun being treated
as a girl, than I could ever remember having had as a boy in the same
kind of situations. 


      Tuesday August 13 1991 1:00 p.m.

    I have just finished washing the dishes after our light lunch of
salad and grilled hamburgers, which I had cooked on the open camp
fire. I had thrown some pine cones into the fire and they seemed to
make a nice flavour to the meat. I'm alone doing the clean up, as
Sharon has gone off with Danny, for a walk around loops E and F. Danny
thinks that he has some hometown friends staying there, and wanted
Sharon to meet them.

     The Nicholsons had left early this morning again, leaving their
dad to sit in his wheel chair alone. He reads a lot. He and I talked a
bit as I fussed about our campsite. I had to strain my voice a bit as
we talked back and forth across the open space between our
campsites, but it was okay. He told me that he was a teacher in a
local high school.

     He seems to like being alone a lot. He also seems to not be upset
about his having to spend his time in a wheelchair. His obsession is
hockey, and he told me that both of his sons, and Danny attend hockey
schools. He promised that if I wanted to come to a game, all I had to
do was to just let him know, and he would get us free tickets. I said
I would tell Sharon, and maybe we would take him up on his offer
sometime.

    I spent the next hour just laying around in the lounger, soaking
up the rays, as they say. It feels so funny knowing that every person
who walks by our campsite is convinced that I am a pretty young girl.
I love it. Everyone is so much friendlier with young girls than they
are with young boys, and like liked being liked so much.

     I also took the time to paint my toenails a shinny bright rose
pink. That of course meant that I would also redo the nails on my
fingers as well, to pass the time. I loved knowing that everyone could
see me doing such typically feminine things, things that boys would
not be caught dead doing. I especially loved knowing that they also
thought that it was perfectly normal for me to be doing things like
that.

     We did actually go swimming with the boys that morning, around
10:30. This was an entirely new experience for me. I love the way my
girl's swim suit feels on my body. It is tight and pulls and exerts
pressures where a boy's suit doesn't. I love the feeling of it,
especially when I dive. I just love the way the neck ties seem to
strain against my skin as I move in the water. I can feel the water
pull at my suit, all over where my suit touches my skin. I love the
feel of it. It is so very sensuous.

    Also, for the very first time in my life, I have held a boy's hand
today, in the same kind of way that girls will hold a boy's hand.
Chris, wanting to show off about how brave he was, to get wet in the
cool water, grabbed my hand and half dragged me into the water with
him, till we were nearly up to our necks. I could not resist the
playful screams as the cold water shocked my nervous system, as he
dragged me after him.

    I tried desperately tried not to get my hair wet, but he dunked me
anyway. He dunked me, just enough to get my hair wet, then, he pulled
me up to the surface again. As he pulled me up to my feet, he also
pulled me against his body. I became acutely aware that I was there,
standing beside a nearly naked boy, who wanted to keep holding me as
close to him as he could. I was also quite surprised at how strong he
is for such a sinewy looking boy.

    Chris, I very quickly realised, was certainly a lot stronger than
I am, even if I had wanted to act like a boy. I managed to extricate
myself from his grip on me and swam out to the raft.

     I will admit it, okay? When I was standing in front of him like
that, and he was holding me in a sort of loose embrace, it really did
turn me on. I found that I wondered what it would feel like to have
him kiss me. I found that I liked it when I had inadvertently put my
hands up and I had touched his flat hard muscled chest. I liked the
feel of his hairy legs as they brushed against mine under the surface
of the water. I had even liked it when one of his knees intruded
itself between my legs for a brief second or two.

     It was only because I was so very ashamed of those erotic
feelings and thoughts that were ripping and tearing their way through
my psyche, that I had fought to escape his embrace, and to swim away
from him, out to the raft. I was a boy. I was not supposed to feel
things like this, and I was certainly not supposed to like the way
these feeling felt either. I desperately wished that I was a real girl
so that I could behave like a real girl with him. Yet this desire
caused me to be torn with guilt to, because, I knew that I was still a
boy under all the dainty prettiness. None the less, Chris had followed
me out to the raft, however. I felt a strange kind of power to know
that I could make a guy follow me around like a lost little puppy dog.
It was kind of cute, in a way. 

   When we got to the raft, it seemed like he was doing things just to
try and prove to me how strong he was. For example, once we got to the
raft, he was constantly picking me up and throwing me out into the
water. Then he would grab my wrists and hoist me out of the water,
back up onto the raft. Each time that he pulled me out of the water,
he managed to pull me up against him into his arms, so as to steady my
balance, so that I would not fall or trip. Every time he did that, I
became very acutely aware of the feel of his hairy soft skin on my
very hairless girlish skin.

     It did not take me too long to realise that he was being macho
for me, trying to impress me with how masculine that he was. I let him
know that I did not really like having him throw me around like that,
and he stopped it immediately. I was finding out that it is a
delightful thing, the way a small girl can control a boy who is so
much bigger and stronger than she is. I loved it. It was the fairer
sex that ruled the world, after all.

     I let myself act in a bit of a pouty way, complaining about how
hard the raft was to get comfortable on. Chris asked me if I wanted
him to go to the beach and get me a towel to lay on. I wanted to see
if he would, so I said I would like that, and smiled warmly at him. 

    He did not hesitate to dive into the water, swim to the beach, get
my towel and brought it back to me. I could hardly believe that a guy
would try so hard to please a girl. I could hardly believe that any
guy would try so hard to be in my good graces, that he would bend over
backwards for me, the way Chris was doing. Okay, I admit it. Being a
girl has got a lot of advantages to it, at least as far as boys go.

     Anyway, that was how I spent the morning. Now, I am faced with
having to ask to myself the big question, "Am I really a fairy?''

     The facts are that I very definitely prefer to wear frilly
delicate soft girl's clothes. I am certainly finding that I just love
being able to put a guy through the hoops for me, like the way I had
gotten Chris to swim all the way to the beach just to get me a towel.
I can not even remember how much I hated the feeling of rejection,
when I had tried to act like that for a girl, and she would just
ignore me. The shoe was on the other foot however, and it was a very
nice foot to.

     I had to admit that I had really liked the feel of his skin
touching mine. I also had to admit that I had really wanted Chris to
kiss me. I had gotten a hard on, as I had stood in front of him, when
he had first pulled me up after dunking me, and he had pulled me into
his arms. I had loved the way I felt when, for just a brief moment, I
had been leaning against his chest. But, would I be able to really
face myself, knowing that all those filthy names and those crude jokes
about effeminate boys, would now also apply to me?

     With a start, I realised that I had been only playing being a
girl so far. If I was serious about experiencing all that girls get to
experience, I would have to let Chris kiss me. I'd also have to do
more than that. Sharon told me that she does not know one single girl
at her school who does not regularly suck off her boyfriend. 

    She says it is the only way for us girls to be able to keep the
guys happy, and still guarantee that they don't get ourselves
pregnant. She told me that she has done it, and that she really likes
sucking a big hard cock. She told me that it was one way to really
feed a guy's ego. She said that they love to have a chick go down and
suck them off. She told me that she also loves the sense of submission
to a strong guy that she always feels, when she goes down on him, as
well as the feeling of power that a chick has when his most vulnerable
parts are in her mouth.

     I knew that. I knew how much she had liked it, because she had
told me in detail how to suck a cock to make the guy really like her.
And realised I might have to become a cock sucker for Chris, if I was
to maintain my feminine identity. Would I really be able to do such a
thing? 

     Worse than that, I also realised, was that I must really be a
queer if I was even willing to think those kinds of thoughts. Thoughts
like those are just not the thoughts of normal guys. Of course, I was
not exactly dressed in clothes that normal guys wears either, at the
moment. 

     I just lowered my hand to my thigh and tugged downwards at my
skirt hem, as though it was the most natural thing in the world for me
to do. I giggled at my action, just as I was writing these words. I
just knew that I loved being a girl, and if being a girl meant that I
would have to get down on my knees in front of some dude some day, and
suck his cock for him, then I was pretty sure that I would probably
would do that, just so that I could act in one more way like real
girls get to act . I kind of hoped that it would never happen, but I
also had to admit to myself that I also hoped that it would to. 

    I readily admitted to myself that I wanted to do everything that a
real girl gets to do, just because I to wanted to be more and more a
girl. I guess then, after all these things are considered, that I have
answered my most troubling question. I am now willing to admit to
myself, that I really am a fairy.

     So, that means that if Chris tries to kiss me, I will let him
kiss me. And... I will also... kiss him back, with passion and
tenderness, and a school girl kind of love. I would act just like any
other normal girl would act, and kiss a boy who strikes her fancy. A
shudder went through me as I imagined myself standing in his embrace,
with my arms stretched up around his neck in a totally vulnerable and
defenceless position, feeling his hard flat body pressing against
mine. But of course, that would mean that Chris would have to like me
enough to want to kiss me. I thought he did, but I was not certain. I
wondered what I could do to find out if he liked me like that. I'd
have to ask Sharon how other girls did it.

   11:30 p.m.

    Sharon and I just got back to our own camp site.

    Danny and Chris asked us to come over to have supper with them
tonight. Sharon readily agreed for us, saying that she abhorred
cooking, and that she would do anything to get out of it if she could.
Actually, it was me that was doing all of our cooking, but I did not
feel to correct her. 

    We went together to the bath room to change from our casual attire
into something that was a little bit dressier than what we'd been
wearing most of the day. Sharon did insist that we wear dresses or
skirts over to the Nicholson's. Since I really do prefer to wear
dresses or skirts anyway, I did not disagree with her suggestion. I
wanted to be very feminine when I was around Chris. I did not like
realising that I felt that way, but I was willing to admit to myself
that this was the way that I did feel.

    The outfit that I put on, was a light green, long sleeved silky
blouse and a short white pleated skirt. It was the same cute little
skirt that I had worn out for breakfast on Sunday. Though it is still
quite warm out, I did want to wear a slip under my skirt. My only
concession to the weather was that I did not wear any nylons. It was
just too hot to get really dressed up. The slip some how afforded me
just that little extra sense of security, though in all honesty, a
filmy little silk slip can not afford any security what so ever, can
it?

      Sharon wore a kind of slinky tight red silky dress with a high
princess neck line and short puffy sleeves. Her dress zippered up the
back. She joking said that it would give Danny freer access to her
body, if he wanted it. That gave me the first hint of what she was
thinking about for later on, but I tried not to pay any attention to
it.

    We did put on a light dusting of makeup, which included also a
spritz of perfume However, we decided to wear the same skimmers with
the cross straps that we'd been wearing all day, as they were very
comfortable and cool. I thought they made my legs curvier in a sexy
way.

    The boys, it was very obvious, liked what we looked like. Their
eyes seemed to light up when they saw us. It just felt so very nice to
me to be liked and appreciated. I had never been treated like this
when I was a boy.

     Mrs. Nicholson took over our attentions as soon as we got there,
by asking us for some help in the kitchen. We agreed. It felt kind of
strange having a woman treat me like I was her daughter, and I really
liked it to. Sharon and I helped her to carry all the food out to the
picnic table, and we washed the dishes and stuff when the meal was
over. I loved doing what a normal girl is expected to do. What really
made my day though was when she offered us aprons to protect our
dresses from any spills that might try to find their ways on to our
clothes. I wondered briefly, what Chris thought of me when he saw me
coming out of the camper, wearing one of his mother's aprons. I felt
very strange having her tie it around my waist and, I liked wearing
the woman's apron. I knew that she would never put it on a boy.
Feeling it on me, just released some strange kind of excitement in me
to know I am acting like a girl is expected to act like. I loved it. I
wished that it never had to end.

     Mr. Nicholson kept making funny little remarks about the four of
us and about romance in general, telling us about some of the humorous
happenings when he was a teenaged boy, when he was trying to get his
very first girl friend. Actually, between him continuing to embarrass
the boys the way he did, and his wife's trying to get him to stop it,
they kept us in stitches all through the meal.

     It was a really delightful meal. She had seated us so as Sharon
was on one side beside Danny, and I was sitting on the other side,
with Chris. Because his little brother also sat on our side of the
table, I had to sit quite close to Chris. His legs kept rubbing up
against my thighs. I do not know if it was on purpose or not, but it
seemed that he was sitting much closer than he really needed to sit.

     Once, when he had gone to get me a fresh bottle of ketchup, his
mother smiled at me and commented that she'd never seen him quite so
smitten with a young lady before. Her words and actions led me to
believe that she liked me, and that she was approving of a match up
between Chris and I. If only she knew what was really in my panties, I
am sure that she would not think the same way. But, I enjoyed the
charade while it lasted. It was a ruse but I loved being treated like
I was her potential daughter-in-law. It was so pleasant for me to
experience having a girl's role in a family setting. Of course, my
sister just sat there with a knowing secret smirk on her face all
night. But I am certain the she also understood how much I was loving
having a real girl's role at the dinner table.

     Around 7 p.m., Danny suggested that we walk over to see who was
at the beach. We agreed. Chris and I walked a few steps behind Danny
and Sharon. I was surprised to see Danny reach out and take Sharon's
hand, as though he'd been doing it all of her life. I was even more
surprised that Sharon did not pull her hand back, but she moved
slightly closer to Danny. When Chris saw that, he reached for my hand.
If I wanted to be thought of as a real girl, I knew that I had to act
like my sister had acted. I too accepted Chris's hand, and I to moved
over a bit, to walk just a little closer to my "boy friend".

     As my sister had done, I accepted his warm strong fingered hand,
and moved a slight bit closer to him, to make our walking a little
more romantically compatible. Soon, Danny and Sharon were walking
quite a few feet ahead  in front of us, so we could not hear their
conversation any more. 

    As we walked, Chris began telling me all about his aspirations to
go to college on a hockey scholarship and how he eventually wanted to
study law. I found it was much easier to keep asking him questions and
keep him talking about himself than it was to let the conversation get
around to me. Besides, I found that I liked to hear him tell me what
he hoped for in life. I knew it was the way that he only talked when
he was with a girl that he liked, like me.

     Ultimately, though, he wanted to know more about me. I told him
my imaginary life that I had lived as a girl. I told him my secret
fantasies, as though they had been fact. I related about how I wanted
to grow up and become a famous dress designer. I told him I liked
painting and writing poetry. I said I played the guitar, which I did
do in reality. I told him I just loved drama and that I acted
regularly in school plays. The acting part was certainly true at the
moment. I also confessed that I had yet to be the star and I had only
played supporting actress roles to date.

     He asked about my boy friends, and I told him that my parents
were kind of strict, so that even though I was fifteen, I had only had
two boy friends before. I also admitted that both of them were in the
last six months. I told him that I was not going steady at present,
however. He asked me why I'd broken up with them and I told him it was
because they seemed to be mostly interested in my body, much more than
they were in me. I told him that they'd constantly be all over me,
trying to get into my pants, and that I did not really like that in a
guy. 

     I was sort of hoping, as I told him all of this that he would
decide to not try and kiss me. I wanted him to kiss me but I did not
want to be a faggot either. I was torn on in the inside. If he kissed
me, I just knew I would act just like any other girl, regardless of
whether it meant that I was a faggot or not. And, even though I wanted
to do that, still I did not want to wake up tomorrow, to look in the
mirror, and know that I was looking at a 'fairy' princess.

      Soon we reached the beach. It was just starting to get dark. The
smell of the pines and the quiet rippling of the Raquette river made a
beautiful atmosphere for the evening. The north star could be seen,
reflecting on the still water's surface. No one else was there. I was
alone with Chris, my new 'boy' friend.

      Sharon and Danny had already decided where they were going. They
had perched on top of one of the picnic tables, to the far left,
almost under the trees. I could see that Danny had his arms around her
and that they were kissing. For a brief moment, I envied her because
it was normal for her to have a boy kissing her like that. I could see
that her arms were smoothly moving up to go around Danny's neck. I
wondered what it felt like to be so close to a boy. I wondered if I
was going to find out.

    Chris noticed them to, as he put his arm around my shoulders and
directed me to another picnic table, not too far away from my sister
and her new friend. It was far enough away that we could not hear what
they were talking about, when they did talk, so we had a certain
measure of privacy. He took my hand helped me to step up onto the
table's seat. I was acutely self conscious as I turned and smoothed my
skirt out under me, as I sat. Chris was still standing on the ground
and just smiling as he watched me move. 

     "You are a very lovely and graceful girl, Brenda. I... I think
you are so beautiful."

     I looked at him. In the twilight, I could see he meant every word
he was saying. I did not know what to do. My mind raced quickly over
every conversation that I had ever had with Sharon about her boy
friends, hoping for some clue as to how I should act.

     "Thank you Chris. That is very flattering. I... Uhhh ... I... I
think you are kind of cute to, you know?"

     His face split in a big smile. "You do? O... shit... Man, that's
great, just great." He climbed up onto the table beside me, smiling
all the while. He was smiling like the proverbial Cheshire Cat. He was
smiling like he had me as his own girl.

     "I don't want you to think that I'm just trying' to get into your
pants, you know, like those other two guys you told me about, but I
really think that you really are a foxy chick, you know? I can't help
it. I just get really turned on by you. I,... I am just trying to be
up front with you, so, I hope you don't get mad at me if you think I'm
coming on too strong or something, okay, Brenda?"

    "Okay, Chris," I responded softly. I felt like a soft romantic
girl. I loved the way that it felt. I loved the feeling of such
tenderness in me, for a boy.

     He sat there and stared at my face in the fading day light. I
could almost feel his eyes as they slowly studied every facet of my
face. I loved it. I knew that I was being admired, and it felt ever so
delightful.

     "What are you doing, Chris?" I asked in a soft voice.

     "I just want to remember this night forever. I want to remember
exactly how pretty you look, with the slivery moonlight in you hair
like it is. I want to remember every detail of your face."

     "Now, that's very flattering, but it makes me a little nervous."
It did make me nervous. I was afraid that he might see something that
would alert him to the fact that I was not entirely all that I seemed
to be.

     Chris smiled, and put his arm around my shoulder, and gently
pulled me to him. I had no desire to resist him. "Maybe this will
relax you a little more...."

     I looked up at him and could see his eyes closing as his lips
descended to touch mine. I could smell the sweat on his body. I could
feel the strength in his arm as he pulled me closer to his chest. I
felt his hot breath from his nostrils on my left cheek as his lips
came down, and ever so lightly and gently, touched mine for the first
time. 

     This is what I had waited for, I knew. I'd longed to see if I
would feel like a girl, or if I'd get sick to my stomach because a boy
had kissed me. This was the turning point for me. I knew that the very
next few seconds would let me know if I was a dyed in the wool class
'A' faggot, or if there was some normal boy left in me at all. I
tensed in my anticipation of my first kiss from a boy. 

     I felt his lips gently tickle mine as they brushed softly across
mine. His kiss was so light, that I almost doubted that his lips were
really kissing me. He felt me tense up, and he pressed his lips a bit
harder against my lips, then drew back to look at me, although not
letting me go from his embrace. I was so close to this boy. I had
never felt so close to anyone like this before.

     I could see that he was worried that he had offended me by
kissing me. I did not know what else to do. His kiss had not been long
enough for me to tell whether or not I hated being kissed by a boy, or
if I had liked being kissed by a boy. And I could see the angst in his
face, and I knew that he was awaiting some sign from me that he had
not ruined      our time together.

   I felt a wave of tenderness for him, because he was so sweet to me.
I also found that I wanted another kiss, to be sure. Not really sure
about anything, I gently reached up with my right hand, touched his
chin, and let my fingertips caress the corner of his lips, back to his
jaw, then past his ear and on to the back of his neck, where it rested
lightly. I could feel the hairs on the back of his neck. He moved back
as he felt me moving my left arm, and gave me enough room to raise it.
I let my hand run up his side, over his very tense chest, where I
could feel his rock hard nipple in the palm of my hand, and up to the
right side of his neck. This hand to, rested lightly on his neck.

     Still, I knew that he was not going to kiss me again, unless I
gave him a very clear message that I was inviting him to do it. He
seemed to be so desperate to want to be accepted by this pretty girl
in his arms. I felt so tender towards him. I felt so absolutely
flattered that I could make a boy's body react to me like his was. I
remembered that the thought played in the back of my mind that this
boy was hot for me. For a long moment, I held my hands on his neck,
looking at his eyes. They were so pretty and reflected the growing
starlight. His strong arms about my shoulders made me feel dainty and
strangely secure, in his arms. This was a feeling that I cherished.

     I knew then, that if it was possible for me to feel like a girl
feels, for this boy, while I was wearing girl's clothes. It made me
feel kind of free in a way. I knew now that I could react just like a
normal girl would react to a boy that she liked to be with. What
excited me was that I was doing just exactly what millions of girls
did all over the world, every night of the year. In fact, I was doing
just exactly what my sister was doing, right now with her boy friend.
I was so turned on. It was not because I was dressed up as a girl and
that I was kissing a boy. It was because I was actually getting to do
what real girls get to do. I was a girl inside, and it did not matter
how painful that bulge got in my panties. I felt like a girl, and I
loved the feeling. Chris loved me as a girl.

     I raised my elbows a little more, which had the effect that I
pulled Chris's face towards mine. I closed my eyes as I felt his lips
gently at first, touch mine again. As he began to act more and more
like a boy in heat, his lips pressed mine hard. His right arm went to
my neck, capturing me in a neck hold so that I could not get away from
him. That was okay with me. I did not want to get away from him. I
liked where I was.

     His left hand moved ever so gently from my shoulder, down lightly
over the silky sleeve of my blouse that covered my right arm, then
back up to make it's way down my back. I knew that he was petting me,
and I nearly purred. I felt his fingers tracing the outlines of my bra
straps. Girls felt things like this every day, and I was just one more
girl tonight.

    He let his hand move in small circles, on my shoulders as his lips
pressed at mine. Then he moved his lips gently to kiss me all over the
entire area under my nose. He kissed up the side of my nose to my
eyelids, then back down the other side back to my lips again. I knew
that I was being made love to. I was the loved, not the lover, and I
felt entirely natural and happy. His lips went in turn to each of my
ears, where he nibbled gently at my earrings. He kissed down my neck
and back to my lips. I was feeling so loved. Warmth spread like a warm
pink cloud through out my entire inner being.

     His fingers found the top of my waist nipper. He explored it a
bit, then asked me what it was. In a quiet whisper. I told him that I
had been born with a slight abnormality in my lower back, and that I
had to wear a corset all the time to support my back muscles. He told
me that he thought he might never meet a girl who wore a corset, and,
he liked it. He said it that he thought that it was very sexy.

     He continued kissing me in his loving gentle manner, making me
want more of his loving. Now, I felt the tip of his tongue on my lips.
I knew that a real girl would welcome this intrusion into her body.
Sharon had told me. I also knew that I also wanted to have this part
of this boy inside of my body, just like any real girl would. I opened
my teeth slightly, hoping that he would get the message that he was
welcome inside of me. I wanted him to shove his tongue deeply into my
mouth. He got the invitation message.

     First, he softly licked all over my lips in a very sensuous slow
fashion. It was so erotic to me. Then I felt it start to ever so
slowly and carefully begin to penetrate my mouth. As it moved in, I
opened my mouth to receive him. I could feel the hot moist thing
sliding over my ultra sensitive lips. This was terribly exciting for
me. I could not help but wonder if I would feel the same way if it was
his cock that he was trying to put into my mouth. I had the strange
suspicion that I would welcome it just as much as I was welcoming my
boy friend's tongue.

     Having my arms up around his neck, as Chris kissed me, made me
feel completely weak and vulnerably exposed to him, as he pressed his
chest against my breasts. If he grabbed at my breasts or my crotch,
I'd be completely helpless to defend myself or to protect myself. This
too was a feeling that all girls experienced, and, I loved it.

     I felt his exploring left hand leave the small of my back and
move up to gently caress my right breast. I was not concerned. I knew
that they would feel like real breasts to him, and I knew that they
could not move about or come off without that special solvent that
Sharon had deliberately left at home. I was amazed at how nice it felt
to me, to have his hand squeezing my pseudo breast. It felt real to
me.

     Chris manoeuvred me so that I found that I was soon laying on my
back, on the table top. He had his right arm under my neck, and his
lips again possessing possessively against mine. I hungrily sucked on
his tongue. I wanted him to kiss me deeply, with all of his passion.
He was pinning me to the table with is weight, which was half on top
of me. My left arm was around his neck, hugging him to me. My right
hand was gently rubbing his taut chest and his shoulder. I marvelled
at how hard his muscles and his little nipples had gotten. I could
feel his fingers as his hands roamed over my right breast, and I
longed for real breasts.

     His left hand went down and began to gently rub the skirt on my
right thigh. I was so caught up in the excitement of the moment that I
did realise it right away, but he was slowly working my skirt up. I
felt his hand move to my flat belly, then back to my thigh. He
stretched, and I felt his hand go to my right knee then to my left
one.

     With a start, I realised that my legs were slightly opened. It
was like an invitation to this young stud, I knew. In my mind, there
could not be a more girlish experience, than for a girl to have a boy
feeling her up with his hand up under her skirt. Even though Sharon
had assured me that with the patch that she had made, that if a boy
did manage to get his hand up onto my panties, that he would feel a
girl's privates there, I was scared. I tensed up in my fear. I knew
that if he ever thought that I was really a boy, that he would kill me
for the deception.

    The problem was, I was not sure if my deception would continue, if
he managed to get his fingers up to the crotch of my panties. I dearly
wanted to feel his strong fingers on the crotch of my panties, but I
knew better than to take the chance. When I felt his hand half way up
my thigh, I clamped my thighs together, like I thought a girl would
do. Sharon had told me that this usually worked. I could feel his hot
fingers on my naked hairless thigh, as I squeezed tight enough so that
his hand could not move any further upwards.

    Chris stared at me, almost not believing that I would stop him,
when he was so close to scoring with me. For a moment as I looked up
into his frustrated eyes, I was scared. I knew that if he decided to,
he could do whatever he wanted to with me. He was far too strong for
me to ever try to resist him. I knew then, that girls felt like this
for most of the time to. "What's wrong, Brenda?" "Nothing's wrong,
Chris. I just don't like for a guy to touch my private parts until I
know him very well. I have never let a boy touch me like that. I'm not
that easy of a lay, you know."

    "I know that. It's just that... Well... I thought you were just
like your sister?"

    "My sister? What has my sister Sharon got to do with anything
between us?"

     "Well... Look at her."

     He moved so that I was able to sit up. I looked over at where
Sharon and Danny had been sitting. I was absolutely shocked at the
vision that I saw. They were no longer sitting on the table. 

   Danny was laying on his back, on the grass. He was stripped totally
naked. And Sharon... Sharon was kneeling on the grass, between his
wide opened legs. I could see her head moving very slowly in an up and
down motion. I knew that she was giving Danny a blow job. I could have
screamed at her because she was putting me into this kind of tight
situation. I knew darn well that she was doing this to make pressure
on me to do the same kind of thing to Chris. I also knew darn well
that Chris was going to expect the same thing and that he was going to
be really ripped off if I did not come through for him.

     Could I like sucking a guy's cock? I was afraid that I was about
to find out.

      I knew that Chris was strong enough, that he could certainly
force me to suck him, if he wanted to, and that I'd be totally unable
to resist him. I also knew that if he did force me, that, being a boy
in a dress, I could hardly look to the police or the park rangers for
help. They'd laugh themselves silly. I'd never be able to convince
them that I was not doing this on purpose. They'd figure that a faggot
got whatever 's'he deserved. Not only that, but if Chris got really
worked up, it seemed likely that I might lose my controlling influence
over him.

      I was stunned, and did not resist when he pulled me back down
onto the table. His hand was still tightly squeezed between my thighs
and I let go of him when he started to pull his hand out from between
my knees.

      "Brenda?"

      "Huh?"

     "You have given me the worst case of lover's nuts that I have
ever had. You just got to do something for me. You just got to. I'm
going nuts. You are driving me nuts."

     I heard the desperation in his voice, and it made me very wary. I
realised too late that I had been playing with fire, and I was now
about to get burned for it.  "Wha... What do you want me to do,
Chris?"

     "I want you to treat me the way that your sister is treating
Danny."

     "But... I... I've never done that before. You... you'll want me
to be... To become a... A cock sucker?"

     "Yeah, so what? From what I've heard, chicks love sucking cocks.
Why should you be any different from any other chick?"

     He had me there, if I had been a real chick. "I... I don't know.
uhhh... No reason I guess." The worse part was that he had sound
reasoning for turning me into a faggot cock sucker.

      He lay back on me the way he'd been before, and started kissing
me again. He shoved his tongue back into my mouth, and because I had
to keep up the pretext of being a girl, I knew that I had to act like
a girl would act. So I sucked on it the way I had been before. I even
put my right arm up around his shoulder again, like an excited girl
might do with her boy friend. I wished that doing this was not so
exciting to me, but it was.

     I felt kind of giddy. Soon, if he had his way, I knew, it would
not be his tongue that was buried in my mouth, but it would that hard
cock that he had in his swim trunks. I was terrified of that, mainly
because, I hated the thought that I was really a faggot. And, Chris
was going to turn me into a faggot, very soon. I was afraid that I was
going to love it to.

    I trembled with the humiliation that coursed through me, and yet,
a strange perverse feeling was also coursing through my every fibre,
telling me that I would like it. It told me that somehow, this was
normal for me. All of the social conditioning of my previous life was
warring with my most secret inner desires.

   Guilt flashed through me like lightening, yet still, I lay there
and let him move his tongue inside of my mouth, and sucked on it as
though I were really a girl in heat.

     As my mind raced, looking for ways to try and escape from this
dilemma that my sister had gotten me into, Chris's left hand came up
and took my right wrist gently in his finger tips. He lowered my right
arm so that in a moment, he had my right hand pressing on the front of
his nylon swimming trunks. He was rock hard, and moaning. I could feel
the heat of his hard on, right through the thin nylon material of his
trunks. Touching his cock the way a girl touches a boy, excited me so
that I had trouble breathing.

     Chris was so hot for me. I had caused this to happen to him. Some
kind of strange and perverse pride took over me, as I realised that he
was acting this way because I was such a foxy chick, and that I had
made him this hot.  He was flattering me by being so hard for me. He
was showing me the power that my femininity had over him. Not knowing
what else I could do, I slowly let my fingers begin to move on it,
feeling out the shape of his cock. I began to wrap them around the six
inch long rock hard shaft. I was so ashamed of being a boy and doing
this to another boy, yet I knew that if Chris thought that I was a
boy, that he would not be allowing me to do this to him. I felt
strangely privileged. I was being allowed to do the intimate things
that girls do with guys. I could not get much more feminine, in my
eyes, I thought.

     I started to move my arm up and down, so that I was actually
masturbating Chris, through his loose fitting nylon trunks. It was
strange, but I liked acting like I was a real girl, in this way. I
felt that somehow, the girl's clothes I was wearing, had given me
freedom to do things like this. I had never experienced any thing like
this before and I loved being in the total girl's role.

     As soon as I began to touch him like that, he started to moan and
writhe around. It made me feel powerful to make someone react to me
like this. I also felt, in some strange way, as though I had been
trusted by him. Afterall, this is what most men live and die for, and
protect with everything they've got. Afterall, they do call it their
pride and joy, do they not? 

     I had never understood that feeling, as I would have willingly
traded mine for a vagina and a pretty pair of breasts, but, I was
certainly not a normal boy, was I? And. Chris was just so willingly
giving it to me, wanting me to do anything that I wanted to do with
it.

     I did not know what else to do with it, or even what I wanted to
do with it. I did know for the first time in my life, that I would
want to do something with a guy's hard cock though. That was a strange
and enlightening idea to me. His hardness made me feel so much like a
real girl, that I loved it.

     After what seemed like a long time, I still did not know what to
do next. I just liked lying there and being kissed by this boy. I
liked the feel of his hat hard on in my fingers. I liked knowing that
I was jacking off his cock for him. He turned his attention to my
neck, and kissed me under my chin. I loved it and submissively raised
my chin to let him do whatever he wanted to me.

    "I... I don't know what to do, Chris? I never did anything like
this before? Tell me what I should do?"

     He sat up and got off the table. "Here Brenda, you sit at the
table, just like you were going to eat something." Then he started to
giggle. "Hey, you really are going to eat something anyway, aren't
you?"

    Not knowing what else to do, I smiled as demurely as I could.

    "I... Uhhh... Yes, I guess I am, aren't I?"

     I sat at the table in the normal way, remembering to tuck my
skirt under me as I sat down. I heard him moving behind me, but could
not see what he was doing. He went around to the other side of the
table. I was astonished. He was stark naked. His cock bounced with his
every step. I was fascinated by it and could hardly take my eyes off
it. He was circumcised. It was big, about three inches in diameter,
and, it looked like the most ugly thing that I had ever seen in my
life. At least, it seemed big to me, compared to what I had in my
panties, it was big.

     Yet, I was mesmerised by it. Even worse was that I found I was
having a deep craving in me. I wanted desperately, to feel it inside
of my mouth. I wanted to feel it. I wanted to taste it. I wanted to
make it fill my mouth with his cream. 

     As I sat there, looking up at his erection as it bobbed in front
of my eyes, I realised with a startling clarity, that if I was really
a girl, that this would be the weapon that he would use to attack and
subdue me with. He would fuck me with it if he could. I felt a shudder
of weakness pass through me. Still, I knew that if I had a choice
about it, even facing such a reality, I would like to be his girl.

     I blushed in the dark night, because of the shame I was feeling.
These were very perverse longings I was discovering in myself. These
were not feelings and thoughts that normal boys were supposed to have,
and yet I knew that I had them. Yet, they were there. Still, I had a
hope that somehow, that something might happen to get me out of this
situation.

    He climbed up on the table, towering over me. This made me feel so
small, so exposed, and vulnerable. I looked up. His cock seemed to
dominate my vision, as it seemed to be so big, so ugly, and ever so
powerful. Chris smiled down at me, walked across the table toward; me.

    For a long moment, he just stood there, looking down at me. I
could tell that he was proud of the cock that was jutting out of his
midriff, so hot for me. I could also tell that he expected me to
really like it to, like any normal teen aged girl would. 

I was fascinated with the thing, as it bounced around, as though it
had a life of it's own. It was so big, compared to the little cockette
that I had in my panties. I knew that he would see a look of
wonderment on my face, but I could not stop myself from feeling that
way about my naked young stud. I did feel a sense of wonderment at
seeing his cock in a way that was only meant for girls to see it. 

     Chris stepped down, onto the seat of the table, where I was
seated on. He put one foot on each side of me. I could smell his boy
smell so strong. It was kind of intoxicating. I also felt his cock
lightly brush against the top of my head. He stood over me like that
for a long moment. Then he sat down in front of me. I had never felt
so weak and so overwhelmed before. I was a girl, and now I knew how
girls felt. I was giddy.

     Chris looked around at the semi secluded area we were now in.
"Sure hope the ranger does not come around too soon, Brenda."

     When he said that, my heart just leapt into my mouth. Fear went
through me. I was terrified. What would happen to me if the ranger did
come and find me doing such a thing? Chris would probably just be
commended for being able to get a girl to do this kind of thing for
him. That is the way that it was for guys. But what would happen to
me?

     I looked up at him, and I am certain that my uncertainty showed
in my face. He hunched his back down and took my face gently, into his
two hands, turning it up towards him. He smiled in a reassuring
fashion, then he kissed my lips, and he put his tongue between them
again. I could not help it. He made me melt.

    I felt so strange. Not knowing what else to do, I put my elbows up
onto his hairy knees, with my forearms resting on his thighs. When I
did that. the back of my right hand accidentally brushed his cock. It
was so hot, I was surprised that it did not burn my hand. What
surprised e even more though was that I did not move my hand away from
it. Instead, almost as though my hand had a life of its own, my hand
turned the other way, and I could suddenly feel the hardness of this
boy's cock in my palm. For the very first time in my life, I was
touching another boy in the intimate way that a girl touches a boy.

    For the first time, aside from when I touched my own that is, I
was holding a boy in the loving way that a girl holds a boy. But I am
not really a boy anyway so that does not really count. So, in my mind,
I felt as though this was the first time that I had ever touched a
real cock. It was so very hard, yet the surface was satiny smooth. I
felt the veins in it, and felt the constant throbbing of it. I liked
being the girl for him.

    Chris moaned when he felt me touching him, and his cock jerked in
my hand. He kissed me once again, then he lay back on the table. I sat
there, and in the near dark, illuminated only by the stars and a
rising half moon I looked at my right hand as it held it's very first
cock. 

   I was mesmerised by the sight. It was like a fantasy coming true. I
was really a girl now. I could just barely make out the pink tipped
nails. I gently closed my fingers around the shaft of his cock, and
placed my thumb on that secret most sensual part, right under the head
of the shaft. 

    Chris jerked on the table as he felt me touching him there. Loud
moans escaped his lips. I could not believe that I was really having
the guts to do this. I was at last, being allowed to do what a real
girl is allowed to do. I felt intoxicated with the freedom of the
moment. Yes, I wanted to be a girl, for guys.

    I slowly began to masturbate my new boy friend. With my left
hand's fingers, I gently lifted his rather hairy balls and felt the
hardness of his excitement. I then caressed the insides of his thighs,
with my left hand, and continued to jerk him off with my right hand,
especially with my thumb. I let my left hand run, palm down, over his
thighs and up onto his flat well muscled belly. I touched his hard
little nipples with my finger tips, and it seemed so right to me to be
touching a boy like this.
 This is what the real girls get to do, and I relished the freedom
that I had to do what the real girls got to do, so that I could do it
too. I loved the feel of his soft curly hair on my palm, and his soft
satiny smooth skin. I felt as though he had made himself open and
vulnerable to me, so that I could pleasure him. He only did this with
girls.

     Chris was nearly rolling around on the table under my hands. He
was so excited that it pleased me and flattered me that as a girl, I
could affect him in such a way. He was helpless in my hands,
desperately wanting for me to help relieve him of the pent up passions
of his boy hormones. 

    I did not know what to do next. I wondered if what I was doing for
him, was going to be enough. He sure did seem to like it. I knew how
it felt, from when Sharon had done me like this, but Chris seemed to
be enjoying it a whole lot more than I ever had. This was an
interesting observation for me. 

     Fortunately for me, he told me what he wanted me to do next,
though.

     "Awww... that is fantastic, Brenda. Put your mouth on it, Babe
and suck it for me now. Put your sweet soft pink lips on it, and then
your sweet mouth, and suck my big wad right out o' me.... Awww...
Fuck... You are so fucking good... Brenda, Ohhh Sweet Baby... Suck my
cock now Awww..."

    This was the moment of truth, wasn't it? How much of a girl had I
really become?

     I steadied his cock with my right hand, and put my left hand on
it as well, holding it in place with just my fingertips. I wondered if
I really could be a cock sucker? I decided that before I could answer
that question, that perhaps I should see how I would feel about
kissing it for him. Perhaps if I knew what it was like to kiss a boy's
cock, I might have a better idea of whether or not I could actually
take it into my mouth, and suck his cream out of him.

    Tentatively and with a lot of fear about what I might discover, or
what I might do, I lowered my head, hardly daring to believe that I
was actually going to do this. I really did not know if I could do
this, or if I would throw up all over him. His smell was so strong.

      I wondered all over again, if I even had the guts to suck his
cock for him. It would take guts, I knew. I knew it would take buts,
because, this was against everything that my life up to this pint in
time had ever taught me about what was right and normal for a young
guy to do. I had tried most of my life to convince people that I was a
normal boy, and now... this. This was not a normal boy. This was doing
what a normal girl does.

     Not knowing whether I really could or not I thought that just
maybe I'd find out, if I just kissed it a little. I lowered my head,
till I could feel that I was placing my lips on his cock head, right
over the little pee hole. And ever gently, ever so lightly, I touched
my lips to the smooth hard dry head of his cock. 

    The moment seemed electric with magic for me. I was actually
dressed up as a pretty girl, and I was kissing a boy's cock. It was
not real. Also, surprising to me, it did not seem so bad after all. I
liked being so intimately close to a boy. So I moved my moist lips a
bit, kissing it, moving my lips all over the cock head. I wondered if
I was leaving traces of my lip stick on his cock. Some how, that idea
was making me giddy with excitement.

      I was actually kissing a hard on, and, I found it pleased me,
strangely, to know that I could find this kind of courage deep within
myself

     It seemed to me that if I could kiss Chris' cock, and also find
that I was even liking the act of kissing his cock, that I should be
able to suck his cock for him, after all. I was pretty sure that I
could even like knowing that I had become a totally effeminated cock
sucker, sucking a guy's cock, just exactly like my sister was doing at
the moment.

     I opened my lips wider and put my bead down again. I could hardly
believe that I was going to take his cock into my mouth, but I craved
to feel what it would be like to have his cock inside of me, like a
girl gets to feel one. 
 It surprised me to find that the head was too dry, and it would not
go into my mouth. Extreme disappointment coursed through me. I could
not believe that I could humiliate myself to such a degree as I had,
only to find out that I was not going to become a real sissy girl like
cock sucker after all. I was actually sad at the thought. It seemed so
unfair. I wondered what Sharon would do.

     I wanted so badly at this point in time, to do what all the other
girls do, so badly that I almost ached inside. And since girls sucked
cocks, so that is what I wanted to do. I wanted to feel this cock
slide past my lips and into my mouth. I wanted for it to fill my
mouth. I wanted to taste Chris's cock flesh on my tongue. I wanted to
make him ejaculate his cum right into my mouth, so that I could feel
his hot cream, just like any real girl gets to do. 

    Wanting to get the reward that girls get from their guys, I was
disheartened at this turn of events. I could not believe that I could
come so far, and end up being so disappointed. I felt like crying. How
did girls do it? Surely real girls met the same kind of problems?

     The thought occurred to me that since it was so dry, that just
maybe, if I licked it that there might just be enough lubrication to
allow it to slide into of me. I was giddy with the idea of solving
this problem and I hoped that it would work. Tentatively, I stuck the
tip of my tongue out and soon realised I had put my tongue right on
his pee hole. I was about to pull it back, when I laughed at myself,
reminding myself that I was going to suck him so that his cream was
going to cum out of that hole and fill my mouth anyway. So, I might
just as well go ahead and lick it any way. Afterall I had been
lovingly the experience of kissing it, only moments before, right? I
was going to try and make his cream come out of it, right?

     I moved my tongue slowly over the dry head, covering the entire
head of his cock with my spittle till it was completely wet. Then, I
started to lick down on the sides of the shaft, as though it was some
kind of lollipop or something. He of course was writhing about, but I
had a lot more interest in what I was doing, then in how he was
reacting to it. True, I wanted to give him pleasure, but even more so,
I wanted to feel what it was like to do what a girl does in real life,
to a real guy. I knew this much, licking his cock like that made me
feel a wonderfully lovely sense of intimacy with him. I was being a
girl.

     When I got to the bottom of his hard shaft, I just found myself
unable to resist the desire to take his bag into my mouth and suck it
for him. This, I learned, was a mistake. All I got for my trouble was
a bunch of hair stuck between my teeth. I had to remove it before
doing anything else. It was humiliating, yet strangely exciting to me,
to know I'd sat there, wearing girl's clothes, plucking a man's cock
hairs out of my teeth. Strangely, it made me feel free. This was what
girls had to do.

     When his shaft was soaking wet from the top to the bottom, I
again kissed it all over. I felt like I was somehow honouring it for
belonging to a real boy, and not to someone like me. I could never be
a real guy, I knew. I kind of liked knowing that though. I lovingly
and slowly kissed my way back up to it's crown.

     This was it. The moment of truth had arrived. I was about to
become what I had spent my whole entire life in the fear of being
branded as. The next time one of my school chums called me a 'COCK
SUCKER', I would know that it was a true name. Somehow, the word
glared in bright large letters in my mind. 

    Yet, even though I knew that there would be humiliation and
ostricization for being a fairy cock sucker, I longed to feel his cock
inside of me. I wanted to do all that real girls got to do. I wanted
to be as much of a girl, as it was possible for me to become.

     Again, I allowed myself to open my mouth as far as I could, and
again I lowered my head down over his hard cock. I felt the head of
his cock as it pressed on my lips. I felt his hardness, as his cock
very slowly began to slide into my mouth, as I lowered my head. I felt
it then as the circumcised head of it, popped past my lips. I was
giddy with my new excitement. I could hardly believe that I had
actually had the courage to be able to do this. I locked my lips
around the head, and I licked the head of his cock, as I lowered my
head as far down as I could go.

     I closed my lips tightly and moved my head down as far as I could
go, feeling the shaft slide over my sensitive lips. I lowered my head
till I could feel the cock head at the back of my throat. It almost
made me want to gag. I was surprised at how little of the cock would
actually fit inside of my mouth. My mouth was fuller than I could ever
remember it feeling before. It seemed as though not much more than the
head and an inch or so of the shaft was inside of me. But, I had the
realisation that I actually did have a cock in my mouth. I loved it,
because I was Chris's girl friend. I was finally a real girl, loving a
real boy. The sense of freedom and submissive femininity that washed
over me in huge waves of deep satisfaction and pleasure, intoxicated
me.

     I stopped and I took a brief moment to think about it. I wanted
to be able to know that I would remember every detail of what was
happening. I wanted to be able to remember every perverse little
detail of night of becoming a boy's girl cock sucker. I smelled his
sweat, in the pine scented air. I heard the water lapping on the
beach. I heard the faint sighs and moans from the orgasm that my
sister was giving to Danny, as it mingled with the songs of the night
birds.

     I felt every stitch of the very feminine clothes that I was
wearing, caressing me, reminding me that this was a womanly thing that
I was getting the privilege of doing. If he only knew that I had a
cockette like his in my panties, smaller true, but a cock none the
less, he would never being lying there, allowing me to suck him off
the way he was. He'd probably be pounding the shit out of me. I was
all girl.

    I savoured the moment blissfully. I was almost, every inch a girl.
I could even feel the lace trim of my panties on my upper legs,
because I was so alert to every sensation at the moment. I could feel
the soft caress of the satin on my bum as I moved slightly to get more
comfortable. I heard the slight rustle of my slip under my skirt, as
the soft lingerie moved delightfully across my hairless girlish legs.

     I felt the tight constriction at my crotch, and yet somehow, that
to seemed to be a right thing. I felt in some perverse way, that since
I was being allowed to be so much of a girl, when I was not entitled
to by nature to do that which I was doing now, that I should pay some
kind of a price for the privilege of doing it. 

      That tight constriction at my crotch was the price that I was
paying, for being allowed to be where I was at the moment. In some
strange way, it felt right. The pain seemed to be an appropriate small
price.

    Still, even though I had Chris's cock in my mouth, I knew that I
was not yet a complete cock sucker. I still had not sucked his cock. I
now wanted to be able to look in the mirror tomorrow morning, and know
that I was looking at a cock sucker's mouth, when I applied my lip
stick. I locked my lips, made a vacuum with my mouth, and raised my
head slowly. Now, I told myself, I had become a class 'A' faggot cock
sucker. This is what fairies and girls do, and I was now a fairy and a
girl, and I loved it. I am a girl, and I'd give anything to be able to
spend my life relating to real boys in this way.

    I lowered my head again, and raised it slowly, expecting at any
moment to have him start cumming in my mouth. I wanted to taste his
cum. I wanted to eat it, to swallow it, I wanted to get the same
reward in my belly, that my sister, a real girl, was getting in hers
right now, at the same moment. I wanted to know that I had sucked it
right out of him. If Sharon could do it, I could do it. I wanted to be
just like my beautiful sister, in every respect. That also included
being a boy's cock sucker.

    I lowered my head again and sucked very hard. Over and over again,
I sucked till my jaws got very sore and my neck and shoulder muscles
began to ache. I was fearful that somehow, I was not sucking him the
right way. I just could not understand why he wasn't cumming for me,
and filling my mouth with his cum.

     My own cock ached from its painful confinement. I did not want to
cum though. Girls do not cum with cocks. I just wanted to continue
feeling my skirt and slip as the slight night breezes tugged at it. I
moved my knees open and closed, so I could feel more of the girl's
clothes I was wearing. I liked the feel my elastic bra straps digging
into my shoulders. I loved the feel of the soft silky long puffy
sleeves of my blouse as it was caressing my arms, as I moved my head
over my boy friend's cock.

     This was a real girl kind of thing that I was doing, and I
relished the feel of the girl's clothes I was wearing while I was
doing it. This feeling of being a real girl was the most satisfying
feeling that I had ever had. I wanted him to cum and fill my mouth
with his boy's stuff. I had sacrificed a lot for this moment and I
felt like I deserved his cum. I wanted his cum to fill my mouth, just
like Danny's was filling my beautiful sister's mouth at that moment,
judging from the sounds coming from the darkness a few feet away.

     At last, Chris tensed up, jerking upwards, and started to spurt
himself into my mouth. I was at last, getting my face fucked. I felt
his cock twitching and swelling in the confines of my mouth. I ran my
tongue all over the underside, of the cock that was cumming into my
girl's mouth, to try and give him the wildest orgasm that he had ever
had. I wanted for him to like me more than any other girl he had let
suck him. 

     As far as his cock was concerned, it was a girl's mouth that he
was fucking and filling, and I felt just fine about that. I was being
a girl for him. It was more than fine for me, it was a fantasy come
true. I ran my fingers up and down his shaft, trying to coax
everything out of him that he had to give to me. I knew now, beyond a
shadow of a doubt, that if I was wearing girl's clothes, that I liked
sucking boy's cocks.

     He came so much that his cum started to squirt out of the corners
of my lips. It was hot. It was thick and creamy. He tasted a little
bit salty. I tired hard to swallow all of his cum, but there was so
much of it, that a lot squirted out onto his belly, and all over my
right hand. I hoped that he would not be mad at me for that.

     It was a wonder to me, to be so completely identified with doing
such an intimate girl's thing. I loved the feeling of utter
girlishness that was sweeping over me, and yielded my mouth up to him,
to serve him as his cunt. I loved the utter effemination that I was
feeling. This, to me, was what I wanted to do all the time. I hoped
that he'd let me suck his cock again and again before we had to leave
the camp site.

     Chris collapsed back onto the table that he was lying on. Though
he had cum and I had swallowed as much of his cum as I was able to, I
still had his erection in my mouth, and my finger tips were still
exploring what a real boy's balls felt like. I felt him starting to go
soft inside of my mouth. I gave him one final suck and raised my head.
I looked at the cock that I had just sucked: He had his cream all over
it. I leaned down and kissed his cock again, and with my tongue, I
cleaned his cock for him.

     When he had recuperated, and he had gotten dressed, we started to
walk me back home, because when I had finally drained him as dry as I
could, and he had gotten dressed again, we found that we were left all
alone. Danny and Sharon had already left. As he walked me home, we
stopped many times, every few feet in fact, and I'd put my arms up
around his neck, and he'd wrap his arms around my waist and back,
squeezing me tightly to him, and he'd put his tongue into my mouth and
kiss me deeply.

     Just before we left the beach area, I noticed that as he pulled
me to him, that I could feel another hard on in his trunks. I decided
to tease him with a line I had heard from Mae West, in a movie one
time.

     "Hey, Mister, is that a pipe in your pocket or are you just glad
to see me."

     "Brenda, I got to be honest with you. I have a hard on every time
I am around you. There is just something so damned sexy about you, and
I don't know what it is. You just make me so hot all the time."

     "Oh?" I was, naturally pleased. "You think that you want to try
to cum again?"

     "Yeah... Why? You want to suck me off again?" The hopefulness in
his voice was loud.

      "Sure, I'd love to." The words that passed my lips surprised me
even more than they surprised him, but I knew that it was true. I
would 'love' to do it again. The idea of sucking that cock again was
fascinating to me. Girl friends sucked the same cocks over and over
again, as did wives. I wanted to be like them.    

     I could tell by the look on his face that I had just blown him
away, when I smiled, kissed him, and told him that I'd love to suck
him off again. By this time, we were at the boat house. He took my
hand, and led me up under the trees, and started to kiss me again.

     "Brenda, did you mean it, when you said you'd 'LOVE' to suck my
cock again?" I loved the look on his face when he asked me that. It
made me feel brave to be a girl.

     I reached out and gently grasped the front of his satin swim
trunks again, and gently began to jack him off. He was as hard as he
had been the first time I had touched hm like that. I responded by
answering, "What is the point of being a girl, if you can't enjoy what
makes boys so different from girls, eh?"

     I put both of my hands on his chest and began to unbutton his
shirt. When it was open, I put my hands on his hard nipples and gently
massaged them. Then I lay my cheek on his chest, and began to kiss his
nipples.

     "I like your chest, Chris."

     "I don't have any hair on it yet." He sounded ashamed.

    "I know, it is just like a girl's almost." I wanted to see his
action. 

    "Well, I don't have the boobs you do, but, I guess with no hair on
it, it looks kind of like a younger girl's chest, in a way?"

     I bunched up his chest flesh. "I bet this would be enough to fill
an A cup. Maybe we can try it some time, eh?" 

    He looked nervous, but he did not back away from me. I lowered
myself to my knees, untied his swim suit, and pulled them down to his
ankles. I stood up again, and began to kiss and bite at his chest. In
my left hand, I gently cradled his cock, and was moving my hand back
and forth, slowly loving the feel of it in my hand.

    "In fact, I bet you that this lovely thing would look marvellous
in a pair of silky girl's panties," I whispered to him. "I would love
to feel it through a pair of silky panties."

     His only reaction was that he moaned as though he were terribly
excited. It seemed to me as though he got excited, more so, if that
was possible, at the idea of wearing girl's panties.

     "Chris?"

     "Ummm?"

     "Let me do it to you?"

     "Do what?"

    "Let me put my pretty pair of my soft silky girl's panties on
you?"

    "Okay, if you want to."

     Wow, I was floored. Chris should have been screaming at me for
making such a suggestion. In stead, he watched me, as though in a
daze, as I raised my skirt and pulled down my panties. I took them
off, and then knelt before him, and raised each foot to slide the lacy
leg holes over his feet, then raised my panties up his legs. He was
fit to burst, all over my face. I stood, placing my hands at the back
of his neck, pressed myself to him, kissed him, and whispered to him.

     "In days of old, knights used to wear clothes that the ladies
gave to them, as a token of good luck and devotion to their ladies.
Would you wear my panties for me, if I gave them to you, Chris?"

     I stood in front of him, rubbing his engorged cock through the
delicate pink silk, with my belly. I just could not believe that this
young hockey stud would let me put my panties on him.

     "Oh.... I'll do anything you want, Brenda, just don't ever stop,
what you are doing, okay? I will do whatever you want."

     It stunned me to realise the power that girls could have over
guys. Girls were weak and dainty, and could never compete with guys,
but I was beginning to learn that most guys will do almost anything
that a good looking chick will ask of them. Skirts meant power over
boys. Girls did not need strength and the ability to win in
competition. The guys were more than willing to do it all for them.
All they had to do was ask. I felt powerful, in a dainty sort of way.

     "Oh, I won't stop Chris. I want to make you cum for me again, my
big strong stud in my little girl's silly little silky panties. You
are so sexy in panties, did you know that, big stud Chris? ... Hmmm...
Maybe I should have a nickname for you, huh? How about, if in secret,
I call you Christine, or Christa? I like Christa better, don't you?"

    Maybe you'd even look pretty in a dress and nylon stockings, with
some makeup on your face. You are kind of cute, you know, Christa.
Would you like that, big boy?"

     He nearly fainted when he heard those word come from my mouth.
His knees buckled. I told him to lay on the grass, all the while, I
was grinding the silk of my panties into his cock. It was obvious that
he loved wearing my panties and he loved the things I was saying to
him. "My Chrissy pooh may just be a fairy to", I thought to myself

     "So, Christa, you got to tell me how come such a big strong stud
hockey player like you gets off so much, by wearing a pair of frilly
girl's panties, eh?"

    He was like putty in my hands. He explained, as I masturbated him,
that his mothers' clothes would not fit him because she was so short
and kind of on the fat side. I asked him if he had ever stole his
girlfriend's panties to wear. Chris admitted to me that he had some
times stolen his girl friend's under wear in the past, but he had
always felt so guilty about stealing them then wearing them under his
school clothes, that he always destroyed them after a couple of days.

      "You should not feel guilty about doing something that doesn't
hurt any one else, Christa," I tried to console him. He was, if it was
possible, even harder than he was the first time that I had sucked his
cock.

      I gently lowered the front of the panties he was wearing at the
moment, and started to lovingly kiss his cock again. I asked him if he
thought that he was a queer. He said he did not think he was. I asked
if he had ever done to a boy what I was doing to him, as I lowered my
mouth over his engorged organ and began sucking his cock again.

      He said that he had not done that. I asked if he thought that he
ever might suck a cock, and he said he did not know, but he did not
think so. I asked if he would like to have a boy friend if the boy
could make every one think that he was really a pretty girl.

      Chris responded that thought sounded kind of sexy and exciting.
I moved my head back up his flat belly so that I could kiss his
nipples and I gently chewed on them.

      Then I asked Chris whether, if he really did knew any boys that
could look like, act like, and talk like real girls. I went on to add
that they should be boys who would also be willing to love him, just
like a girl would love him. I then added that if he would treat her
just like he would treat a real girl, which would include making love
to her, which might mean sucking the cock that she'd have in her
pretty silk panties, just like I was doing to him right then, then he
might have a very special loving girl that would be adoring and
devoted to him.

    He panted out, and said that sounded really exciting to him. He
said he'd like to meet such a boy as that. I again went down to his
cock, and slowly, kissed and sucked it till I made him cum for me
again. When he had cum and, he had actually gotten soft in my mouth, I
lay beside him, running my right hand all over his chest.

    I lay and cuddled in Chris's arms, with my head on his chest,
gently playing with his cock with my left hand, as he continued to
kiss my face. I kissed him, and asked him if he had been lying to me
about his willingness to go out with a boy who masqueraded himself as
a girl. He swore to me that he had not lied, and then a suspicious
look come over his face.

    "You're not... One of them... Are you, Brenda?"

    "I thought you said you would like a boy like that?" I teased.

    He lay back down again, and sighed. Then he raised up on his right
elbow, kissed my lips again, and then as he looked into my eyes in the
pale starlight, he softly whispered his thoughts to me.

    "You know, Brenda, if you were really a boy like that, you know,
one that dressed up and lived like a girl an all, like you said, I
would still really love you. I think that I would even want to marry
you. I guess you could tell by the way that I reacted when you talked
about such things, that they really get me turned me on. I don't think
that I would like to live like as a girl, but every once in a while, I
think about what it would feel like to wear dresses. I think about
what it must feel like to act dainty and to be pretty, not that I
think I could ever look like a pretty girl.

    Heh... do you want your panties back now?"

    "Yeah, I will need them."

     He giggled nervously as he humped his hips up and he let me pull
them down his legs. He watched me, as I stood up, stepped into the
panties, and raised them back up my legs. I pulled them into place
under my skirt, where they belonged. As I did so, I was careful to not
let the hem of my skirt get too high. I smiled at my stud boy who had
just been wearing my panties. As I was pulling my panties back on,
Chris had redressed himself He just stood and grinned at me.

     I felt special because I knew that he had revealed a side of
himself to me that no one had ever seen or even suspected about him
before. Still I was just too nervous and too scared to tell him that I
really was the kind of boy that he said he would love to meet and even
to marry. I still feared being rejected for being a fairy, even though
he's said he'd love me if I was like that. 

     "I don't want to go back yet Do you, Brenda?" 
 "No... I like being here with you, Chris."

     Chris lay back down on the grass and held up his arm for me to
join him. I did just exactly that. I felt like there was a strange
kind of magic around, as I lay back down beside my first boy friend
again. His strong arm encompassed me. I knew beyond any shadow of a
doubt that I was capable of feeling the same kinds of feelings that
real girls can feel towards real boys. I felt secretly delighted to
know that I could feel like that. It felt so girlish to me, and it was
a heady experience.

     We did not talk for a long time. I felt like purring. We lay and
listened to the sounds of the nights birds and the water lap in on the
beach. Every once in a while we could faintly hear one of the jets
from the Fort Drum military base. I lay with my head on his shoulder.

     Chris would kiss the top of my head every once in a while. Then
his hands started to trace out the outline of my bra's straps on my
back again. I opened my eyes and could see that he was starting to
have a stirring movement in the front of his trunks again. I smiled,
absolutely pleased that I was able to have such an effect on him. I
turned my head towards his chest and began to kiss him again. Soon I
found his left nipple and began to kiss it, then to lick it, then to
chew on it. It felt so very different from the only other nipples I
had ever had in my mouth, Sharon's. It was so small, hard and on a
flat well muscled chest. I loved what it felt like.

     He moaned under me. I felt it reverberate through his chest,
feeling it more than I had heard it. I smiled, pleased with my first
night as a girl friend. I looked down and watched to see what it would
look like, as I slid my left hand down and gently rubbed the front of
his nylon trunks for the third time that night. The sound seemed loud
in my ears, as I caressed the front of his trunks. I could scarcely
believe that I was having the courage to act just exactly like any
other girl acts. I felt free and excited. I did not have to have my
own erection slaked to be happy. I was elated, just be being allowed
to be a real girl for a short time in my life.

     I moved my hand up and slowly I slid it down inside of his
trunks. I wanted to feel his cock again, in my hand. I never wanted to
forget how nice it felt to me. I gently began to masturbate him again.
Chris was like putty in my hand.

     This time, there was no urgency. This time I did not have to make
him cum because of his lover's nuts. This time, I could go slow and
really enjoy every moment of making love to his cock. I could take my
time, and stretch out the moments of enjoying being his girl.

     After what seemed like a short eternity of relishing the fact
that as a girl I had the freedom to caress a boy in such an intimate
fashion, I decided that the time had come for me to suck his cock
again. I wanted to taste his cum again. I wanted to pleasure him in
the way that girl's pleasure the boys that they like. I certainly
liked Chris well enough. If I lived in Canton, I knew that I would
really want to be his steady girl friend. I wanted to feel like a girl
making love to her boy friend, once again.

     I began kissing my way down his belly again, till I got to his
trunks. I raised my head a bit, and began kissing the front of his
trunks, following the hot hard bulge that was under my lips, up and
down the entire shaft. He was starting to moan and buck his hips
around again. I was making him react to me like that. I was very
flattered that my girl self was so able to make a virile boy respond
to her like that. I gently bit his cock, right through the trunks.
Chris loved that.

   I pushed the waist band of his trunks down to his knees, so that I
could have free access to his engorged cock once again. For a long
minute, I watched my hand play with it. I was seeing what any other
girl would see in her most intimate moments with her guy, and it gave
me a warm tingle inside to know that.

     I gently rubbed my fingers all up and down the hot satiny smooth
yet throbbing hard shaft. I cupped the head of his cock in my palm. I
reached down and grasped his hairy balls, gently in my finger tips.
These were his family jewels, and he was letting me have them to do
what ever I wanted to do with them. In some strange way, I felt
trusted and privileged.

     I moved down so that I was kneeling between his legs, and pulled
his trunks all the way off him. He opened his legs wide and raised his
knees for me. I moved up between his legs. I stared at the cock that I
was going to suck again. It seemed so ugly, yet I was fascinated with
it. It was so completely unlike mine. It was big and strong compared
to my little wang. 

    This was a cock to honour, I thought to myself. And honour it, I
was going to do. I was going to honour it by making love to it. I
leaned forward and began planting my loving little kisses all over
it's swollen head, very slowly. Chris moaned and moved around under
me. I was glad that he could get so hard so often for me. He was
certainly a young stud, that was for sure.

    I held his cock still with both of my hands, and kissed the shaft
up one side and down the other side, and then repeated it, over and
over again. I revelled in the lightness of freedom that was coursing
through me. I was free to do what girls do to boys, and I was elated.
I knew that I was all girl at the moment, and I never wanted the
moment to end. It seemed to me that I was totally satisfied, just by
acting like a girl, in a girl's intimate situation, more so than I had
ever felt in my life before. I was in love with being Brenda.

     I lowered my head so that I could look at his balls. I could not
see much in the dim starlight. A small cloud had covered the quarter
moon. I pressed my lips against his hairy balls, and I was unable to
resist my urge to once again, take his balls into my mouth. I could
only take one at a time in, as his balls were pretty big.

     When I got my fill of sucking and licking his balls, which I
could tell was driving him nuts, no pun intended, I took a moment to
pluck his pubic hair from my teeth. His cock hair really irritated me
when it was stuck in between my teeth the way that it was.

    Then I began at the shaft and put my tongue on it. I very slowly
licked my way all the way up to the head of his cock. Then I repeated
my action, on the left side of his cock, then on the right side. I
felt like I was licking a very large lollipop. I could hardly wait for
the taste of the sweet stuff to cum out for me.

     I then licked all over the head of his cock, very slowly. I did
not want to just suck his cock for him. I wanted to make love to it
for him. I felt like I loved his cock, at the moment. I wanted him to
know it to.

     Then came the moment I had been teasing myself with, by deferring
it as long as I could. But, now, I wanted to feel him inside of me. I
opened my lips and lowered my head. I felt the soft skin slide across
my lips as he entered me. I could hardly believe that just hours
before I had been so scared of being a cock sucker, and now I could
not get enough of sucking Chris's cock for him.  I lowered my head
till I felt his shaft moving on my lips. Once I had him inside of me
as far as I could get him, without making myself gag, I moved my lips
around and licked his shaft. I hoped it would take him a long time to
cum. I wanted to prolong the pleasure of sucking his cock as long as I
could do so.

     I very slowly raised my head, feeling his cock on my tongue as I
washed him with it. I relished the feel of his shaft moving on my
lips. This time I was not going to lock my lips on him. I did not want
to get a sore jaw again.

     I sucked him in this manner for a very long time. I have no idea
of how long it was, but I knew that it was a long time. One time, I
even had to stop so that we could hide behind a tree, as the park
ranger drove by. Once the ranger had gone by though, I had Chris lie
on his back so that I could get on with making my love to his cock. I
enjoyed having such control over such a strong boy, and I wanted to
make it last as long as I could. I loved doing what girls do to boys.

     However, he was unable to hold off, and he began to fill my mouth
with his cum in one big gob after another. I felt it jetting back
against the roof of my mouth and splashing against my tongue. I loved
it. He was doing to my mouth, what he would do to a cunt.

   This was the reward that nature intended for girls to have, and I
relished receiving it as a girl. I locked my lips, and I sucked it all
out of him.

     I swallowed all that he had to give me, and tried to suck some
more out of him at the same time. I kept sucking his cock till it had
shrivelled up into a tiny worm in my mouth. I loved being his faggot
cock sucker, I admitted to myself, as I removed him from my mouth.

     I lay back and watched him as he put his trunks back on. No one
had ever treated him the way I had treated him, and I could see his
appreciation in his eyes, and hear it in his voice when he talked with
me. We stay there and necked for a bit longer, then he walked me back
to my tent. As we walked, he held me very close, which made the
walking slow and awkward. But he was making me feel loved, like a
girl, and I wanted the moment to go forever.

     Sharon was already in her sleeping bag when I crawled into the
tent, but she was not asleep. And she would not let me sleep until she
had gotten me to tell her every little detail of what I had done and
what we had talked about. She seemed to be the most interested in my
feelings at the times that I had his cock in my mouth, or when he was
kissing me. She insisted that I describe the feelings to her, as
completely as I could.

     When I had told her everything, she told me that was just the way
she felt, so now I knew that I was really more of a girl than a boy,
because I felt the same kinds of feelings that a real girl feels. I
then asked her why she had started sucking Danny off in the first
place. I asked her if she knew what kind of pressure that her sucking
Danny's cock was going to put on me to do the same thing for Chris. 

    She smiled and said that she had wanted for me to have to suck
Chris's cock, and she had figured that the only way she could get me
to do it, was to put me in a position where I figured that I had no
choice but to do it.

     She said that she had felt it was important for me to know
whether or not I was as queer as she thought that 1 was. And now that
I knew I was just another fag queer, that I could get rid of a lot of
the uncertainty and stupid guilt that I was carrying around, for
betraying my stupid sense of boy hood. I could get on with enjoying my
femininity.

     I did not like being referred to as a queer, but as they say, "If
the high heeled shoe fits, wear it." I was a queer, and that was all
there was to it. I could never again be a normal boy. Of that, I was
certain.

     Then she wanted to know if I would ever admit to Chris that I was
not all girl, but that I did have something a little extra than a
regular girl in my panties. I said that I didn't know if I could ever
be able to tell Chris about me. She just smiled knowingly, but Sharon
did not press me on it.

     She watched me as I shimmied out of my skirt and blouse, and got
out of my underwear, into the baby dolls that I was going to wear to
sleep in. I had taken off the little apparatus, and my engorged cock
was bouncing around obscenely in the pale blue silk loose fitting
panties.

     Once I had laid down on the cot, inside of the sleeping bag,
Sharon got out of her bed and knelt beside me.

     "Brenda, you poor baby. You must feel a terrible pent up sexual
tension. From what you tell me, you were on an erotic high for at
least three hours. I can't let my little sister stay like that, not if
I really love her, can I?"

     I lay back submissively as I felt her soft delicate hands search
around under my sleeping bag, till she found the front of my panties.
When she touched me, I nearly orgasmed at that moment.

     She opened the sleeping bag, pushed down my panties, and took me
into her warm loving mouth. I moaned loudly as she made me ejaculate
in a wild orgasm of pent up emotions. All I could picture was that I
had made Chris feel what Sharon was making me feel at the moment.

     I orgasmed into her mouth as I was acutely aware that I had
become a completely effeminated person. Every one here knew me as a
girl. I loved what Sharon had forced me to live this week. I loved it
and I loved her for knowing what was best for me. I had never felt so
complete in my life. I yielded to her ministrations, and was thankful
that even in this, I was in the more feminine submissive role. 

  Wednesday, August 14 1991

  11:30 a.m.

    The Nicholsons have been gone for most of the day. I got up very
late, about half an hour ago, and they had already left. Sharon is all
bustling with vim and vigour this morning. She wants for us to go to
Lake Placid today, and see the High Falls Gorge.

     I do not really want to go. I want to stay alone, so that I can
think about the things that I did last night, and to think about my
conversations with Chris. She says we can't stay at home, because, we
have dates with Chris and Danny, that she arranged for us, to go out
for dinner, at 7:30 tonight. So, we had to get a hustle on if we are
going to get back in time to keep our dates.

     She drove us over to the bath house so we could shower and get
fresh clothes. She insisted that since no one else was there, that I
should take the time to use Nair on my legs and arms. I'd never used a
depilatory before, and, I was quite pleased at how smooth and soft my
skin felt after using it. I loved the feel of the silk panties on my
legs, as I got dressed.

     I dressed casually, in just a pair of long pink shorts that are
made of some soft billowy type of material, a light pale yellow short
sleeved blouse and the same white Maryjane looking skimmers that I
wore yesterday. My hair is in the banana clip again. My pretty
lingerie is peach, and made of delightfully soft silk with white lace
trim. It is very pretty. I could not help but to smile, as I wondered
how Chris would like to wear these ones.

     Today, I will have to carry a purse over my shoulder all day. She
just grinned and told me to get used to it. I have found that I really
do not have any more qualms in going about in public wearing girl's
clothes. The way I've been accepted by everyone has just convinced me
that I am accepted and treated like a girl, and that every one just
assumes that I am what I look like. I get no quizzical second glances.
I know for certain, that I sure do get treated a lot better when I am
a girl, than I ever did when I was a boy.

     One thing that I do especially like is the sense of freedom that
I feel. As a guy, I was always aware of how I had to walk or hold my
hands, or the way I talked, like as if I thought that someone was
always watching me, to see if I was acting faggoty or something all
the time. I was terrified of being thought of as being an effeminate.

     Now, I just act the way I wish I could all the time. Besides, if
a girl acts a little boyish sometimes, no one thinks twice about it.
In fact, it is often treated as being cute. Most girls have been
tomboys at some stage in their lives, it would seem anyway. So, I
don't have to be overly concerned about boyish behaviour either. But,
do not let a boy ever act like a girl, or man it is over for him.

     I love this new freedom I have. I can just be what I a.m. and act
the way that is most natural for me to act, and no one will persecute
me for it. It's great. 

    Thursday August 15 1991 12:30 a.m. 

    I have not been able to get to sleep, so I thought I might as well
get up, and write down what happened tonight. To say the least, it was
exciting, unexpected, and, I think very life changing for me.

     We got back from the High Falls Gorge around 6:00 p.m. It was, to
say the least, absolutely awesome. Sharon bought me some new earrings
made of a light blue polished stone from the gift shop at the gorge.
She insisted that I put them on right away to see how nice they look.

     They are about two inches long, and dangle down. I like the way
they are constantly knocking against my cheeks and neck, if I turn my
head too fast. It's nice to have this constant reminder of my complete
effernination on top of every thing else. I love it. I do not know
why, but I like being reminded that I am girlified.

     We drove over to the shower house to change for our dinner dates
because the lighting is better than in the wash room. Sharon insists
that we do it up right, so for the first time in my life, I am going
to be completely dolled up, just like any other teenager would on her
first date. She wants me to be especially pretty, to have a very fond
memories of this night. She said it would sort of be like my prom
night for me, that I would never get to have. That is okay with me. I
want to feel ultra pretty tonight.

      She tightened the waist cincher tighter than I had ever thought
that it could be tightened. I did not believe she would be able
tighten it, but because I have been wearing it constantly, I've been
unable to eat like a boy, so I've actually lost weight. I wore the
same panties and bra that I had on all day, because they were so
pretty. This time however, I also wrapped a lacy garter belt around my
waist, before putting my panties back on. Then once again I felt the
ecstasy of wearing nylon stockings on my smooth hairless legs.

     I've worn nylons before of course, but I'd never worn them on
completely denuded legs. This was such a real sensuous experience that
I determined I was going to wear nylons at every chance that I got to
wear them, after that. I even found myself planning to wear them under
my school pants, if I could manage to find a way to avoid detection.
Then, came my high heeled shoes. They were white with three inch high,
thin spike heels. For a moment, I wondered if they could even support
my weight, then giggled because I had seen really fat women wear heels
like this before, and they did not break under that weight. At the
backs of the heels were pretty little bows. These shoes were ever so
feminine in their design. They added to my sense of being pretty.

     Down over my head, drifted the softest most sensuous satin slip
that I had ever had the privilege of wearing. This was something new.
Sharon told me that while I was sleeping this morning that she had
gone in to Potsdam, to buy me something special for today. It had a
big full skirt that just seemed to constantly rustle against my
nylons, and it seemed to touch nearly every square inch of my thighs.
I loved it. The bodice and the hem were trimmed in two inches of the
finest most delicate lace I had ever seen before. It hung from my
shoulders by delicate satin spaghetti straps. This was a truly
feminine slip and I really did feel a sense of privilege to be allowed
to wear it.

     Next, she showed me the dress she had bought for me. It was white
with a loud floral pattern on it of big red and yellow flowers with
big green leaves. It had a wide full skirt with a three inch wide red
belt. It was made of a soft silky jersey material, and I could hardly
wait to see what I would look like in it. Before she allowed me to put
the dress on, however, she wanted to do my makeup.

     She plucked at my eyebrows, making them perfectly arched, then
she studiously applied my makeup. We both have summer complexions, so
we can use the same makeup and clothes colours. That certainly
simplified my girlish life, believe me.

     First came a rose based foundation cream. Next she brushed my
eyelashes with a water proof brown mascara, till they were thick and
long, sticking farther out than I had ever seen them before. These,
she then curled upwards, making me look ever so innocent. She then
highlighted my eyes with a liquid eyeliner, also in brown. Next came
the dark blue eyeshadow over my lower eyelids, and a thin strip of
light blue eye shadow above that, 'nearly as high as my arched brows.
When she was satisfied, she let me apply my own blush and lipstick
while she dressed herself.

     She wore bright red lingerie trimmed in black lace. She told me
that if she was going to have sex with Danny that night, that she
wanted him to get as hot as he could possibly get, and that her sexy
lingerie could always do that to a man. Over this, she draped a black
silk slip with red lace trim on the bodice and hem. Over this, she
lowered a silky red dress, that was kind of tight around her breasts
and her hips. I envied her for her natural shapeliness.

     I told her what I had felt when I had first seen Chris's cock all
primed and ready for the girl to satisfy, and asked her if she had
ever thought those kinds of things. She laughed gaily, and told that
this was exactly what girls wanted guys to do with their cocks. Girls
really wanted to be seduced by a guy, to be conquered and made love to
with the cocks that we excited for them. That was why we dressed so
prettily, after all.

     My dress, I realised, though very pretty, looked a wee bit on the
little girlish side, beside the lovely dress that she was wearing. It
almost looked too feminine and girlish, if it is possible for a dress
to look that way. When I commented on it, she laughed and told me that
she would never wear it, because it was just too woosie for her
tastes. 

     I asked what woosie meant, and she laughed. She explained that
most modern girls thought woosie meant too girlish like, too feminine,
or just too frilly and sissy like for modern girls.

      None the less, I raised my dress over my head, because, woosie
or not, I thought it was gorgeous. I slid the silky short sleeves over
my wrists and let the ultra feminine garment envelope me in its
prettiness. Once I had the full skirt adjusted, and the short puffy
Bishop's sleeves were comfortable, I buttoned the three large round
buttons up the front, and buckled the belt. My waist looked positively
tiny, as the belt made my dress really flare out over my hips.

     An inch or so of the lace bodice of my slip could be seen above
the deep V shaped neck line of my new dress. I'd seen girls dressed
like that before, and I had always thought that it was very pretty.
There was no floor length mirror in the shower house, so I could not
see what I looked like. I knew that I felt like a princess. Sharon
solved my problem for me. She produced an instamatic camera, and took
pictures of me in various poses. We even waited a few minutes for them
to be developed.

     I was absolutely thrilled with the image that I presented. The
wide belt made my skirt flare out. It fell to just an inch above my
knees, and made me look ultra feminine, almost like a girl from the
mid fifties might look, but with a shorter dress. It was a delight,
and I was very pleased with it.

     Next, I had to sit patiently while she played with my hair, using
combs, pins and mousse. When she was done, I had curly bangs at the
front and my hair was full of soft waves, falling to curl inward at my
nearly bare shoulders. I loved it. I smiled my pleasure at her
handiwork at her. With my eyes closed, she sprayed perfume at the back
of my neck and my wrists. I looked like a lovely lady, and I knew it.
It was a kind of classic effect, and I loved it.

      In only a few more minutes, we were back in the car, and driving
towards the camp site where the Nicholsons were. Before we got out of
the car, she remembered that she had forgotten about putting on our
jewellery. I was still wearing my new earrings, and she said that they
went fine with my dress. I wrapped a delicate silver wrist watch on my
left wrist, and put a small pearl ring on my right hand, the fourth
finger. Next, she reached up behind my neck to snap on a delicate thin
silver necklace, with a diamond looking heart pendant dangling from
it.

      She smiled at me and told me that I was as pretty as any
princess. I felt like a pretty feminine young lady. But, I was
surprised when I saw that the boys were still in their scrubby old
casual camp clothes. They explained that they needed to go home to
change their clothes and that we would stop there on the way to the
restaurant.  Sharon gave the keys to the car to Danny, and she sat in
the front seat, on the passenger side. I sat behind Danny, and Chris
sat beside me. His eyes were full of wonder at what I looked like. All
he could keep saying was, "Gosh... you're just so gorgeous..."

     It made me very self conscious, and I loved his adoration.

     We sat, holding hands in the back seat, for the whole three
quarters of an hour that it took to get to Chris' house in Canton.

     Sharon told us that she and Danny were going on to Danny's house,
for him to change, and that they would come back and get us when they
were finished. Boy, did this news ever scare me.

    Once we got inside the house, Chris grabbed me and wrapped me in
his strong arms around me, nearly crushing me as he smothered my face
with his kisses. I was thankful that I had thought to put a supply of
makeup in my purse, because, I just knew that he had smeared my lip
stick, but I did not care. I just wanted to feel him continue kissing
me so ardently. He held me tightly like that for nearly fifteen
beautiful minutes.

    I went to the bathroom to repair my lip stick, and he told me
where his room was, and to go there when I was done. I loved the sound
of my delicate heels clicking on the hard wood floors in their house.
I loved the constant rustling of my lingerie when I walked. It just
made me feel just so completely girlish. I loved knowing how pretty my
lingerie was.

     I walked down the hall to Chris's room. It was a typical guy's
room, with a basketball net on the wall, sports posters all over the
place, including on the ceiling, and some dirty clothes thrown on the
floor in scattered heaps. He was obviously a slob, this Chris of mine
was. I grinned. 

     As there were no chairs in his room, I went over and sat on his
bed, and waited for him to get out of the shower. I felt so funny,
being dressed up in such pretty clothes, sitting on a boy's bed, a boy
whom I'd sucked off before.

     He had gone to take a shower, and when he came back to his bed
room, he was naked. The only thing that he had on, was a raging hard
on, for me. When he saw me looking at his hard on, he just grinned and
told me that was the price I had to pay for being so pretty.

     All I could do was smile. He also told me that he was going to
find it very hard to put his underwear on, with his ridged cock
sticking out like that. He told me that I had caused him a lot of
problems like that one.

     "Brenda, you can't believe how horny I am for you. I've had a
hard on all day long, thinking about what you did to me last night."

     "Oh? You can't put your under wear on, and it is all my fault? I
suppose you want some more of last night to?"

     "Hey... Does a bear shit in the forest? Of course it is all your
fault, and I'd be daffers not to want some more of your loving. You
are fantastic."

     "Is that why you got me up here, on the pretence of showing me
your room?" 

    "Well, Brenda, would you be real mad if that was true? By the way,
you look absolutely beautiful tonight. I love it."

     "Thank you kind sir. So, are you going to be able to live with
that hard on, or are you just as desperate as you were last night for
me to get rid of it for you?"

     "In all honesty, I am more desperate than I was last night. I've
had it all day long. It has almost got me bent over double with the
pain. 

    "Oh..? So, you'd like me to take care of it for you?"

     "Yeah, but only if you really want to." He looked deeply into my
eyes. "It is important to me to know that you really want to do it for
me, Brenda."

     1 did not understand what was going on in his mind, but I smiled
at him as I straightened myself up. "Yes, Chris, if you must hear it,
I really want to do it for you. I liked doing it for you last night.
And I think that I will like doing it for you now. Are you happy,
silly boy?"

     Amidst the loud rustling of my dress and slip, I kept my eyes
fixed on his eyes as I got off his bed and walked over to where he was
standing. Still watching his eyes, I reached out to grasp his cock in
my right hand, and slowly I lowered myself to my knees. With my eyes
still fixed on his eyes I moved my face fore ward till I felt my lips
touching on the tip his cock. I pursed my lips, and kissed his cock
head. I could smell the fresh clean scent of the soap he had showered
with. He was staring down at me, fascinated.

     I opened my lips and found that this time, his cock would slide
easily into my mouth, when I was in that position. I took the head of
his cock into me, and sucked and licked at it a bit. Then I moved my
head back so that I could smile up at him.

     "You still like to wear little girl's frilly panties, Mr. Big
Stud, Christa?"

     He moaned. He was like putty in my hands. He explained to me, as
I vacillated between sucking him and masturbating him, that his mom
had always wanted a girl, and that she used to dress him up in pretty
dresses and silk panties when he was little. He said he had liked the
feel the clothes gave him, and that he missed it when it stopped. It
had stopped when his little brother was born. When I asked, he told me
that he used to have his own collection of dolls that he used to play
with them all the time. He told me that he was five years old before
he realised that he was not another girl. I asked if he still wore
girl's clothes at home. He said, as he writhed about, that only some
of his mother's clothes would fit him, and he wore those as often as
he could get away with it.

     Then he asked me again if I really liked what I was doing to him.
I took his cock out of my mouth and smiled up at him.

     "Chris, I can guarantee that if I did not like what I am doing to
you, that I would not do it." Then I put him back into my mouth and
started trying to make him cum for me again.

     "You know, I find it almost absolutely unbelievable that you are
really a boy."

     The shock of what he had just said, hit me like a hammer on my
head. My eyes went dark and fear tore through my psyche. I froze. My
first thought was that if he tried to hurt me, I could bite the cock
that was in my mouth, and try to run away. That would at least
immobilise him for sure.

     But I knew that he was not going to hurt me. I quickly realised
that he loved what I was doing, especially since he now knew that I
was also a boy, though I was a complete girl at the moment. He must
have had a talk with Sharon.

     Not knowing what else that I could do, I slowly regained control
of myself I went back to licking and sucking the ridged cock that was
so hard in my mouth. My hands were shaking. 

    "You know, last night when you asked me if I would like to have a
boy friend who passed himself off as a girl, and I told you that I
would love to meet a girl boy like that, I was not kidding you. I want
you to become my steady girl friend, Brenda. I want you to come and
see me some times, even after you go back to your old life. I want to
make love to you lots of times. I... I even want to suck you the way
you are sucking me, Brenda."

     When he said that, he started to spurt his big load into my
mouth. I hungrily sucked it all out of him, trying to get every drop.
I felt the thick stuff as it started to slide down my throat. Girls
felt things like this all the time. I felt very girlish.

When Chris started to get soft in my mouth, I got up and went over to
lay on the bed. I was emotionally exhausted. Chris came over and lay
beside me. He started to kiss me on the lips. He licked my lips. I
knew that he was trying to taste his cum.

    "I can taste my cum on your lips, Brenda."

    I did not know what to do, or how to act. "Do you like the taste
of it, Chris?"

    "Yeah... I do like it. But, Brenda... I want to taste your cum
to." With that, he put his hand down on my right knee and then slowly
pushed it up under my dress, caressing my nyloned thighs. I did not
stop him this time. He pushed his hand all the way up, till I could
feel his fingers on the crotch of my panties. I was aching hard for
him.

     I lay on my back panting, afraid to move lest I find that I had
only been dreaming. Chris moved down on the bed. He sat on the edge
and reached over to push my dress and slip all the way up till it was
bunched up on my belly.

     He leaned over and slowly he began to kiss the thighs above the
tops of my nylons. His lips then moved to the front of my panties. I
could feel his hot moist breath right through my panties.

     His fingers then slowly lowered the front of my panties. I felt
him fingering at the apparatus that Sharon had made for me, till he
figured out how it worked. He unhooked the little hooks, then he
pushed my legs open so that my erection could spring up.

     "It's beautiful, Brenda, just beautiful. It is almost... Dainty?
I like it." I felt the bed shift as he moved his weight. Then I felt
the glorious sensation as his wet warm mouth came down over me. I was
aware of every single stitch of feminine clothing that I was wearing.
Chris, even though he was sucking my cock, was making me feel
completely girlish. This was like my wildest fantasy coming true. It
took very little to make me explode in his mouth. I was so super
charged sexually, that it only took a few seconds.

   The orgasm was so intense that I nearly blacked out as I ejaculated
wildly into my boy lover's mouth. I felt that I was loved by him. This
feeling made me wild with orgasmic and emotional release. I was unable
to stop the moans that had escaped my lips as he made love to me.

     Once my cock had started to get soft, he replaced my clothing for
me, tucking me back between my legs gently. Next he moved up to lay
beside me again, kissed me tenderly on the lips and looked me in the
eyes with a big grin on his face.

    "Well, I guess that you are not the only cock sucker here, now are
you, Brenda?

     I could not resist smiling back at him, and wrapping my arms
around his neck in a loving embrace. As far as I was concerned, this
boy could do anything that he ever wanted to me, and I would love him
for it. 

Friday, August 15 1991 7:30 p.m.

    We are back at home now. It has been a most delightful week for
me. Our parents will not be back for a few more days yet, and both
Sharon and I agree that I should remains as Brenda till the last
moment.   I do not ever want to go back to being a boy, but I have no
choice.

    We have just had supper. Because I am the younger girl, I had to
wash the dishes. I am not complaining though.

   As I write, I have to keep holding my left hand out, turning the
back of it to the lights, so that I can admire the way the diamond
reflects it. Chris gave me a ring this morning, and asked me if I
would marry him, when we were old enough.

   What could I say? I love him.

   Then end.

If you want see me, go to www.geocities.com/WestHollywood/9864 If you
want to write me: debijo@cybergal.com If you live in Vermont of NY
states, on the Canadian border, or in eastern Ontario, and you would
like a girl friend like me, drop me a line, and see if we like each
other.  Miss Debi.