My New Life Begins  

rm_LisaJ16 53T
8 posts
9/5/2006 8:00 pm
My New Life Begins

Life Begins

The answer for me was to move to Vancouver, to find my own apartment and to run my sales business from a small office with a single support staff person. I figured if I had the right person, it would help me succeed, stay disciplined and take care of things when I was busy with other things. I hired a mid thirty aged woman named Amber and I started making money in specialized investments. I ended up making a lot of money, at least by the standards I was used to. My apartment was modest, but had two bedrooms. The master bedroom with the walk in closet was for the woman in me ‒ Lisa. The other bedroom was where I parked my mail clothing and also my home office.

Lisa is the one who needed the space for her cloths. I knew I needed the space for all the dresses, skirts, slacks, blouses and all those shoes. I spent a ton of money on cloths, underwear, foundation wear (bras and such), makeup, shoes and everything else I needed to transform me whenever I had the chance to do so. .

My first night alone in my own place was very exciting. I first had to go shopping for makeup, a wig, shoes and a few outfits. I spread my shopping around and tried to make it seem like I was shopping for a wife or daughter or whatever. I don’t know if I fooled anyone when I went to Payless Shoes to purchase size 12 high heels, pumps and boots. Oh well, let them think what they want.

I couldn’t wait to get home that first evening. I started by having all my body hair removed using a razor, Nair and a shaver. I shaved every last hair off my legs and body and very much savored being able to shave my underarms. Most of the hair came off my arms as well. After a long bath with scented oils I finally got out to dry my body and to feel the sensation of once more ‒ being so smooth, so soft and so feminine. Sleeping with such smooth legs proved to be very hard initially as I could not get over the sensation of rubbing my legs together and feeling them so incredibly desirable. I wished for a man to touch them, to kiss my feet, my calf, my hips, my thighs and much more; to rub his legs against mine, to feel his hardening penis against my pulsating anal hole.

After my shower, I immediately but on a bra and filled it with my new, attachable, silicon breast forms; B cups with protruding nipples. They are a lot of fun to wear so totally real in the way they move and feel. I can’t get over the jiggle of breasts when I walk. After slipping on my panties and a slip, I go and find myself some very deep pink nail polish and paint my toe nails with those toes held apart my little wads of tissue paper. It’s an amazingly feminizing activity and after I get that done, I start with make up and a wig. I’ve had a ton of practice, so doing my makeup really doesn’t take that long, less than a half hour. The last thing I do is my lips, to carefully outline them with lip liner and to apply two shades of lip stick, to create a sexy and luscious pair of lips ready to pout, to smile, to frown to smirk or to whisper in a mans ear to kiss when that perfect moment with the right guy arrives.

I started immediately by ordering hormones and (while I was waiting for my breasts to grow) breast forms from the internet. I ordered two sets, one B cup and the other large Cs. I wanted to get a feel for them and decide how big I really wanted to go.

I also ordered quite a few pairs of shoes of every kind from women’s tennis shoes (white with pink trim) to flats for casual times, to pumps, mules, strapys, open toed sandals, and high heeled zipped up boots. I love shoes and am super comfortable in heels.

I ordered most of my clothes from Sears, especially the lingerie and other ‘intimates’ that I needed. I also enjoyed going to stores and shopping, always for ‘my girl friend’. There were a few times where the cashier checking me through would make comments that let me know she knew, but they were always a) women and b) very nice about it. I really didn’t mind. I got so used to a local drug store an their staff that I would go in and buy any sort of makeup, pantyhose or other women’s personals and not think twice about it. One of the girls asked the name of the person I was buying for and I told them Lisa. After that I would get teased, “for Lisa is it?” But they were very nice and I was a good customer.

I love putting on a good wig, it makes the transformation so complete going from a man dressed like a woman to being a convincing woman ‒ maybe not the most beautiful, but sexy and attractive to an average guy and maybe a little more. The final touch in front of the mirror is to put on my earrings, my toe rings, my rings and a nice necklace to match.

I have amazing legs and in shear panty hose they can be very sexy, especially when I slip on my heels. I handle being in heels very well, having walked many miles in some very high and sexy pumps, mules and open toed sandals and slip-ons. My legs always draw the attention of passer bys when I’m going for a walk so I do try and appropriately show them off. High heels, sexy hose and a short dress always do the job ‒ sometimes more than what I bargained for.

Of course getting ready involves doing my nails, to get some of those clips-ons works best. They are long and easy to get on and off, no glue required. But they are just very expensive and require me having longer nails than what a well trimmed man should have. The next best thing is to use a little dab of glue on the glue on nails and make tem work for an evening every once in a while.

After doing my nails I like to put on a corset and a padded girdle to give me some curves before putting on my dress. The dress can be long or short. In fact I even love wearing women’s pants and jeans anything a woman would wear and as long as it shows off my curves. Of course, I really like short sexy party dresses and I really enjoy wearing a nice evening dress. On the other hand, pant ad skirt suits are also a lot of fun while I imagine being someone’s appropriately sexy executive assistant and working in an office.

After choosing a dress and slipping my body into it I find a perfect pair of heals to go with that dress. It’s the finishing touch and then, after checking my hair and makeup, finding my purse and putting on a coat, I go out. I always have this urge to go out and to be seen (maybe at a distance) as a woman. Ironically, I find walking on a side-walk later in the evening along a busy street to work the best. If it’s too early I end up walking past too many people, a little latter and the side walk traffic diminishes. People drive by, they can have a look, some even honk but they can’t stop and I just keeping walking into the traffic so if they do stop I can walk away.

There are a few times where I’ve had to run after having a guy stop and pick me up. If I knew they knew I was a transsexual, I’d have jumped right in, but I am quite certain they were looking to be with a real woman. Oh well. I’ve had a few very exciting but scary experiences of having guys drive around the block looking for me. It’s thrilling but also in this world dangerous. You never know what a red blooded guy will do to you if he discovers he’s been had. But it’s so much fun being seen as a desirable woman.

It’s the routine I’ve followed for years, never being in contact with another human being too afraid of what could happen of where it could lead and yet still wanting to find a way to get there. Now that I am alone, maybe I can open the door and see where it leads.

Mid-aged Adolescence:

But first I want to improve myself, to loss some weight, to get better at looking the part of a real woman, to maybe even develop a few curves and feminization of the body. That’s where the hormones came in real handy. I actually have exposed myself in the past to estrogen, via my mothers estrogen patches. I once used a full month worth which did nothing for my body but plenty for my soul. The knowledge that estrogen was being released into my body was both a turn on sexually and very comforting emotionally. I really wished I could stay on but them but I now had a chance to do exactly that.

My plan was to take some pills to reduce my testosterone and some other pills to enhance my estrogen. I gave myself as much of the latter as I could, hoping to feel the surge of womanhood in my veins I guess. Of course, your body can only practically handle a certain amount of estrogen and I ended up mostly staying on that dose for a number of months before I finally could feel the results, first with tender and slightly larger, protruding nipples and then with swelling little breasts. It was to be the most exciting moment of joy in my entire life. But getting there took a long time ‒ a time of very purposeful progress from being a nearly full time man to being a majority time woman.

Every single night I would dress up as a woman, sometimes very casually and staying home and other times dressed to the nines, going out on the town and having a lot of fun. I always looked forward to being able to come home and to immediately drop the male cloths and get into a dress or a pair of shorts or women’s slacks or jeans or a skirt or just walk around in my panties. I always put on some makeup and a wig at least until I grew my hair out enough to curl my hair and to feminize myself with my own hair.

I shortened my work week to four and managed to make almost the same amount of money. In fact many of my work weeks were only three days at the office or in meetings with clients. The rest of my work week was at home, in a dress, as a woman doing whatever I could professionally in a dress, as a woman. It really was amazing, with a little creative thinking, how much work can be done on a phone, even if it is in a sexy party dress, or in a nightgown while doing your nails. I had a lot of fun, dressed as a sexy woman, or often as a female executive in a business dress/suit, having a serious conversation and doing a deal over the phone in my male persona.

I actually find wearing dresses very stimulating in terms of my creative energy as well as super helpful when I had a lot of administrative work to do. I loved paperwork as a woman including paying bills, filing and all the rest and literally despised doing the same as a man. For a while, having both male and female operating in my life made me a much more rounded and successful person.

Of course, I’d sleep every night a woman, in a night gown, teddy or real girl pajamas ‒ as long as it was silky or lacey I love it and sleep like a baby. Next morning, if I had to go to work, I’d have to do a major washing in the shower and get transformed to becoming a man. I started thinking of myself as a woman having to disguise myself as a man so I can make a living. It made the experience of going to work as a man more tolerable and in some strange way even a little fun. I mean, a woman disguised as man would still wear her panties and would probably still keep her painted toe nails. She would still sit down to go to the bathroom ‒ right? That’s exactly what I did.

Coming Out: After a few weeks of being alone in this world I decided I needed a coming out. To connect with other transsexuals and to have a bit of a social life based on my feminine side. Via the internet I did eventually connect with another trans-gender girl, Barbara.

I connected with Barb, first by phone and then over coffee and then finally, one glorious Thursday evening, at a small night club for trannies where I could go as a woman and feel very safe and accepted. The first time was a bit of a surprise, I discovered that most trannies were actually just casual cross dressers, mostly hetro and not too concerned about how they looked. I was actually one of the prettiest of the girls. Quite a few guys would drop in and out, some were friends of one of the girls and others were looking to pickup a girl.

The problem I had is that some “not so good looking guys” kept coming on to me. It was flattering and I enjoyed the attention, the playful flirting etc. I made some good friends but I was going to be very picky about my first time. My line to resist their advances was to tell them I was straight. Some were able to tell I was lying, I really can’t figure what I was doing to give myself away. Come to think of it, early on, when I very good looking guy walked into the bar one night, I sighed and blushed and got very nervous. I was so afraid that he would come and talk to me and so disappointed when he didn’t. Barb knew then, where I was at and probably told the some of the others.

My first dance with a guy was one I will never forget. I had taken dancing lessons recently with my wife and remember how that as we were learning I was paying a lot of attention to the female partner’s steps, role and movement in various dances. It was not too difficult to accept that first dance. It was with Danny Jordan and the reason I accepted is that he was persistent and reasonably good looking and was someone else’s boy friend. It was rather an innocent situation and for that reason I felt comfortable enough to say yes when he asked. He was the first man with whom I held hands for any length of time. As we walked to the dance floor, he held my hand and took my hand and led me past a number of tables and into an open area for our time of dancing. I was so turned on by having a man hold my hand; I knew I was into ‘men’.

I warned him that this was the first time as a woman. He laughed and told me I was looking and doing fine. It was also handy that he was quite tall, in my 3 inch heels he and I were the same height. While I was tall I had also become very slender, and thus felt very feminine with him. We danced a few dances, the first was rock and roll dancing with little contact (darn) but the last was the one I will never forget. It was a slower, more formal dance and he took me much closer in his arms than I expected. The first moment when I felt his hand touch my waist and stay there left me breathless I felt like I was going to faint.

At first we held each other in the usual way, his hand on my waist and holding my hand and my hand on his shoulder, but then he drew loser to me and a could feel my breasts rub against his chest. His hand dropped down to the top of my hip and his face drew close right next to mine until his cheek touch mine. Our held hands came in close to our bodies and my hand slipped unto his chest. I loved the sensation of touching a man and I’m sure he could sense I was really enjoying him.

He whispered in my ear how that his girlfriend had arranged this moment for me and asked that he take me to the dance floor and even arranged for the music and encouraged a nice romantic slow dance with me. He asked if I was ok with the experience. I told him; “very much so, in fact I think I’m enjoying this more than what your girlfriend would appreciate.” He smiled and laughed softly saying, that “if she knew what I was thinking right now, she’d kill me”.

At that we only drew closer and he kissed my on my cheek. He had both his hands on me, one down low, practically on my butt and the other around my waist. I had both my hands on him as well, one on his shoulder moving to his chest and the other on the side of his face and neck. As we got closer I could feel his penis and it was getting hard and we both decided we needed to stop before things go out of hand, but first we danced the rest of the dance.

When we got back to our table Dan’s girl friend, Janis smiled and said sure looks like you enjoyed yourself Lisa and Danny. I blushed and said “it was very nice, my first dance”. She said I knew Danny would be very good at making your first an unforgettable one, but that’s as far you two are allowed to go ‒ no more dancing for you two”.

She was right; my first Dance with Danny is one I’ll never forget. There was not doubt now for me that if I met the right guy I could be swept off my feet and into his arms and eventually in his bed. Anyway, my weekends were filled with fun times going out with the girls, going to movies together, to dinners and dances and just having a lot of fun.

But every weekend came to an end and it was back to the serious business of working and making money. Transitioning from my weekend attire as a woman back to the weekday male persona was usually a very sad experience. I used a little psychology on myself to make it easier though ‒ when I dressed as a man, I thought of myself as an actual woman having to disguise myself as a man ‒ to make myself look and pass convincingly as a man.

Of course, half the fun was wearing panties and sexy panty hose under those suit pants and also knowing that my toe nails were painted a sexy pink or bright red. Just knowing that under the veneer of this so-called man I really was a woman and the slow transformation via the hormones just magnified the excitement I had going to work. But where was this going to go? Especially after a few months when I started to grow my own breasts. I was actually shocked at how suddenly the change on my chest took place.

One day I could feel my nipples getting hard and staying hard, within a few more days they became very sensitive and starting to hurt, getting a little bigger and much darker. In a space of three weeks they went from quarter size man’s nipples to slightly larger but undeniably female nipples. I spent a lot of time touching myself and savoring the soaring joy of feminine adolescence ‒ at the age of 46.

It was only a few more weeks latter that my breasts began to blossom, to begin to grow that incredibly amazing soft tissue that a man can’t keep his hands off of. Sure enough, I couldn’t keep my own hands off my own chest. I had to feel them, even during the day I would take extra breaks just to undo my shirt and take off my athletic bra just to feel my breasts, as small as they were. To me they were an amazing and promising beginning; I planned on enjoying every moment of the experience.

Of course, I also had to start to buy bras for me that actually held by emerging breasts in place. The jiggling when I walked was so incredible but too much of that would be very visible to people, even when I am wearing a suit jacket. At home I started wearing training bras and then A cup pushups with silicon inserts. The first time I looked at myself with that pushup and extra little help from the insert I went crazy with excitement. My breasts were getting plumb and filling my bra and I was developing very sexy cleavage. I discovered that it doesn’t actually take a lot of visible breast to really turn a guy’s head. A lot of heads were turning and taking a second look and I loved every stare.

I also experienced other changes in my body including slower beard growth, higher fat content, expansion in my hips and a lot of emotional turmoil. All of it was exciting to experience.

At the office I had to suppress my breasts and I did so by wearing tighter fitting athletic bras that would be interpreted as a t-shirt for those seeing the outline of my undergarments against my shirts or sweaters. The athletic bra really worked well for a while but before very long I realized I was going to have a problem. If these breasts kept on growing, how was I going to hide them? What was I going to do to make a living?

I knew I was facing a real crossroads of decisions and didn’t even know how I was going to handle that crossroads. I just knew I was not going to turn back, this felt so good and so right and where ever this was leading me, I planed to following this path to its conclusion.

Big Leap Forward: In fact, after spending some extra time and money on the internet, I received in the mail a new hormonal supplement package that could be used to a) duplicate the sensations of having a monthly cycle (or at least the hormonal surges women have each month) and b) help a person (man or woman) who is not pregnant to lactate and be able to produce milk. I decided to take them; first to experience the emotional turmoil of having a period and then to produce milk ‒ just for a few days (or so I thought).

I decided that in order to experience the real sensations of being a woman and appreciate what other women go through, I would give my self a period once a month. The hormone regime was quite radically different for a full week every four weeks, and it sure didn’t take long to understand what a woman goes through. The first day I felt very little, nothing to speak of , but the next morning I woke up very hot, sweating and with my skin sensitive to the touch. I got up and made breakfast and had a surge of sadness come over me. I was starting to cry for no apparent reason other than not wanting to go to work as a man, and then realized it was hormones. The hormones seemed to awaken the emotions I tended to suppress ‒ it was a very interesting experience. I got my stuff together, got ready and went to work.

When Amber saw me she immediately noticed something different ‒ she asked “are you OK? You look sick, like you have a fever”. I looked in the mirror and realized I was reddening in the face, too much blood I guess. It was as I discovered “hot flashes” that come with the first days into a monthly cycle. I did everything I could to get my mind off my body but just couldn’t. My skin was different, I could feel so much more than I was used to and it was making me crazy.

My nipples were much harder and I had a constant reminder that I was a woman and not a man. My penis went completely limp which was nice for wearing slimming dresses in the evening. But during the day, I spent every moment conscious of my changes and distracted by them. The extreme feeling of being a female led to more than the usual episodes of crossing my ankles and legs, walking with a ‘wiggle’ and just feeling like giving Amber subtle hints that something was up ‒ now why did I do that?.

The hardest thing was dealing with ordinary conflict. When a client got angry, I didn’t get as defensive as in the past, I didn’t fight back with a clever response. I just smiled and gave in to him. It was actually a very good move in terms of PR with some difficult guys. They appreciated my soft response. But after dealing with them, I just wanted to cry ‒ to go into my office and really ball for a few minutes which is exactly what I did a few times that week.

After that week I would never be the same. I always noticed when a woman was experiencing that “time of month” and was able to adjust my approach to make her week easier for her. Every man should have to go through this a few times in a life time. It also seemed to stimulate my breast and nipples quite a lot. They were growing slowly so it was always hard to tell, but I could swear that after each period my breasts were slightly larger. Other than when I was lactating, I kept up the routine of a period every fourth week. It’s good for creating and maintaining a true woman’s soul.

I had two ‘monthly cycles’ and then decided I was ready for my next very big ‘women only experience’; producing my own milk and growing out my breasts in the process. With the pills (similar to the monthly period ones) I also was required to use a breast pump to encourage the production of milk. The instructions suggested that a person should start using the pump after one week of taking the pills. I used the pump the day I got it and every day afterwards because it was fun and it seems to make my nipples larger almost right away.

After taking the pills for 10 days I could feel a change happening in my breasts, first the left breast and the right. My breasts were still only A+ cup and easily hidden by wearing a tight fitting athletic bra, but ‘big’ changes were about to happen and my life would never be the same.

One morning I woke up and felt my breasts had gotten larger over night and that they felt like they were swollen. I read in the instructions that when that sensation comes that a girl is to massage the breast and to ‘express yourself’ by squeezing from the sides and towards the middle.

As I lay there in bed I started to squeeze and suddenly could feel warmth surge to wards my nipples. I was so excited to get up and use the pump and this time, as I did fluids dripping and then even little squirts into the pump. It was euphoric beyond words ‒ the most amazing sensation to realize I was producing milk and my breasts were about to swell into a size that a) would make me very happy b) draw a lot of attention from the guys and c) make hiding my secret almost if not completely impossible.

I decided to take a month off, to grow my breasts a couple of sizes and then to stop lactating and let them shrink back before going back to work. I decided I needed to inform Amber of my decision to take time off and then figure out how to adjust the schedule so as to minimize the loss of revenue.

I pumped myself dry and then quickly got dressed and went to work. I had a number of clients to call and some items to review when I finally decided I needed to tell Amber, but first, I had to pump my breast again. It was only three hours and they were starting to drip. My breasts were also swelling so taking a break to deal with my overflowing breasts was a necessity ‒ and a lot of fun. I produced several table spoons of milk from each breast, which really freaked me out. This was getting serious real fast.

Kitten’s Out of the Bag: After gathering myself together I sat down with Amber and told her I was taking a month off and that she would receive paid holiday in addition to what were contract included. I thought she’d be thrilled but she had something on her mind. She finally broke the awkward pause with “I need to ask you something”. I had a feeling this conversation was about to get very uncomfortable.

She continued, “I know, or at least I’m pretty sure that I know what’s going on… you’ve been changing quite a lot over the past few months… you got rid or your body hair, you’ve lost weight, you look very good but… you seem like you’re into a private habit of some kind. Let me get to the point…this is awkward… are you transsexual or into cross dressing? … I’m sorry to ask, but I am worried about you … I don’t think less of you if you are ‒ in fact ‒ I really care about you as a friend … like a sister … I just wanted you to know that I know. That I’m here for you and care about you… I want to be your friend.

I was shocked… frozen with embarrassment and then relieved, she knew, but what gave it away? I mean, a lot of guys are skinny and get rid of access hair. I still projected a lot of masculinity at work, or at least I thought I did. I asked her, what gave it away?

“Well, the fact that you’ve lost so much weight and seem like you really like it and your mannerisms and a lot of other little things I’ve noticed. My brother is transsexual and when I found out I picked up on the mannerisms, the habits of a cross dresser. You often cross your ankles and hold your knees together and then tilt them to one side when sitting on your office chair, guys don’t do that ‒ ever. You walk with a wiggle some times ‒ a very distinct girl walk. You mostly don’t, but every once in a while I can see it in your walk. I’ve noticed a little makeup in your eyes ‒ a little darkness on your lashes. I’ve also seen a little pinkness on your nails at times…. And your hair has been getting longer, a new look but it just seems like there is a bit a feminine direction happening there too.

There are lots of little things including your very private social life. A couple weeks ago you didn’t seem yourself at all, you looked sick but then also very alive ‒ it’s hard to describe but it sure was different. I thought maybe you had met someone and were falling in love. In the last month your voice seemed to change and last week you were very uncharacteristically gentle and sweet to me. But the way you hold your legs ‒ makes it very clear to me ‒ you are a woman somewhere in there”.

Knowing that Amber had a brother who is transsexual made me feel safe talking to her. I could feel real empathy and understanding from her. It made a real difference in our relationship, in my willingness to open up my heart and life to her. I really started to relax and let the conversation continue…

Can I ask you another question? You don’t have to answer but I’m just curious?

She was on a roll, I told her of course.

“Are you wearing a bra of some sort? It just seems like you are hiding something. You wear a lot of cover up clothing like my brother did when he was wearing bras and padding them. So are you wearing a bra?”

I was actually very excited to be able to spill the beans and tell her about my growing secret. I replied to her question by informing her that “I’ve been wearing a bra, an athletic bra for the past three or four weeks…. Because if I didn’t I wouldn’t be able to hide my breasts”

Watching her in shock was a lot of fun.

“You’ve got to be kidding… you are growing breasts under there… real breast? You’re crazy, what are you going to do? Can I see them?”

That was an awkward request but I must say I was more than pleased to oblige her. I told her that I was taking hormones for breast development but the real reason for needing to take time off was that I was producing milk and my breasts were growing a lot… I didn’t want to stop yet, I really wanted to feel the sensation and satisfaction of producing enough milk and then maybe even growing some real good size breasts before stopping and letting them shrink back to normal.

She laughed ‒ “you can’t do that in a month, you’ll need at least two or three to pull that off and even after stopping your milk production there is no guarantee that your breasts will shrink back. What if they don’t?” “You’re like a thirteen year old who gets pregnant, you have a lot of breast development still coming to you and the pregnancy only accelerates your breasts to grow to their natural size and then some. Your natural size might be C pluses or Ds. What if you end up with huge beasts? Have you thought about that?

Of course I thought about it all the time and secretly actually hoped I would have that problem but my answer to Amber was one based on logic that allowed me to do what I was doing “I don’t care I just need to do this… if I need an extra month that’ll be worth it for me and I am almost 100% certain based on everything I’ve read, that I’ll be small again after I stop making milk… That’s what most experts say”

Ambers still excited asked again to see my breasts and I did just that. I unbuttoned my shirt and undid the bra in the back and let it fall off my breasts and let her see my little teenage girl breasts. As soon as I showed her, my nipples started to drip. I couldn’t believe it; something about showing a person your breast stimulated the milk to start flowing.

Anyway, I grabbed a Kleenex and wiped my nipples dry and immediately stated putting on my bra when she asked if she could touch them? I turned around, so timid and yet so willing to let her tough me, to touch my breasts and to play a little with my nipples.

Amber insisted - “I’m not gay, just very curious, very intrigued with what is happening to you. You really have breasts and you are really lactating… that is so amazing”

I started to put on my bra and she continued “So tell me more, are you transsexual or just a cross dresser gone a little over board.

I’m transsexual; I really wish I was a woman and enjoy living as one every evening and every day off, whenever I can. Even at work, I think of myself as a woman, disguised and playing the part of a man. I’m definitely transsexual.

Do you plan on transitioning… to become a full fledged girl?

Well... I don’t know for sure, I sure hope to get close to living full time as a woman and then making my mind up before taking the big leap… I always think about being a full time woman…”

Are you … do you make out with guys?

No, I mean yes… I’ve not been with a guy… not yet. But I really want to try and be with a guy… I think I’d really like to have sex with a man… I’m just scared. I don’t know where to find a decent guy to become... my first lover. I’ve had lots of online sex, but I’m just really afraid of meeting a guy I really don’t know. I guess I’m really afraid of being rejected or hurt… I’d like to find the right guy and then take it slow, to date and then after some time, make out and make love when we are both comfortable.

Ambers response was …. Very unexpected. “I know for sure I can help you with that. My brother knows a lot of very decent guys and I happen to know lots of gorgeous gay guys. Gay guys are mostly very nice. I’ll find the right man for you… some gorgeous tall, dark and handsome man will be glad to help you experiment with your feminine desires.

I’m actually very excited about this. I want to see you dressed up as a woman… I want to see and really get to know the real you. Can I come over tonight? I’d like to be your sister friend and help you become the best you can be as a woman. I really want to see you as a woman, maybe even in a sexy dress. … It would be so much fun getting you ready to meet the man of your dreams…”

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