Boundaries

Whilst I consider myself very uninhibited, there are some things which I’ve never really come to terms with. Cross dressing and transvestites are one of them. That was until recently.

I’ve always been an each to their own type of person, if it floats someone’s boat, then good luck to them. For me though, the whole idea of cross dressing or being a trans-sexual conjures up images of hairy 40+ men wearing their wives underwear on a tuesday afternoon in Bradford whilst their beloved is out at work.

Not for the first time in history, I stumbled across the thing that changed my mind in a bar recently in Istanbul on a work trip. I was there on my own for a few nights, and decided I would try the hotel bar one night after being out for a meal with some people from the office. I sat at the bar a few stools down from a very good looking woman, hoping the conversation would start when she heard my very English accent, which is usually the catalyst. Within a minute of me ordering my drink she asked where I was from. Turns out she was from Spain and was visiting on work too.

You know how the rest of that story goes, so I won’t bother with the details, except to say it was the best blow job I’ve ever had. I think I took the big reveal in my stride, but I couldn’t help but let out a “what the fuck?” when I first encountered the half erect salami in his\her pants. My surprise was more from a how the hell was I so easily fooled, rather than a shit what do I do now. What did I do? Well, I did what every self respecting pervert does, I had sex with him\her. Very good it was too.

But there I was a few minutes later. Kneeling behind a man on his way to becoming a woman. Breasts were in place and small and tender. Waist was suitably slim. Skin was hair free. Face was incredibly beautiful. Frankly, I don’t think many people would have spotted the signs of her being a him. Anyway, as I’m kneeling behind her, I’m thinking to myself, actually, this doesn’t feel like being with a guy. Yes, every now and then I get a slap of his penis against my balls as he bounces backwards and forwards, but other than that, there was nothing going on in my mind that suggested I wasn’t liking the experience.

After we’d both come, and I did help him to reach his climax too, we lay on bed, with her in my arms stroking my chest. It was a surreal experience if I’m honest. Since then, I’ve been looking through my usual web sites to find someone similar and this beauty at the link below is as close as I can get. I think you will agree there is a remarkable lack of male signs except for the obvious.

Amazing Cross dresser

I don’t think I would go looking to find this experience again, but I am glad I’ve done it.

~ by Spiritual Pervert on October 18, 2012.

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