You don't have javascript enabled. To properly interact with Adult Confessions, please enable javascript on your browser.
Adult Confessions | Out-of-the-closet |
Out Of The Closet
Coming out of the closet is never an easy thing to do. Where you forced out by an unfortunate circumstance? Did you come out on your own terms. What and how did you finally come out? To who?
  • — Out of the Closet —
    Transsexual Male / 48

    I am a crossdresser I live in Lakeland fl. I love to have sex with men and I do it all the married men seem to want a crossdressers and the sex is out of this world and I love the sex and I have more orgasms then I ever did before and I love when they cum inside me its so hot and when it runs down my legs I feel more like a women everyday and I hope it never stops I am also on hormone therapy male to female and been on that for 5 months now I have a whole closet full of women clothes and shoes I have a small dresser full of bras and panties and pantyhose I wish this was online for everybody to see I feel sexy and it makes feel like a women

    #43442 — Comments (2) — Feb 19, 2019 at 3:53 PM — That's Juicy! (11) Remove It. ( * )
  • — Out of the Closet —
    Bi-Sexual Male / 18

    Strictly speaking, I'm not gay. But because I am very feminine and have been since I was a toddler, everyone assumes that I am.

    I am also not a transgender female. But since I am so feminine and always have been, my mom assumed I was.

    When I was 10 years old I began an interest in cross dressing. I loved to luxuriate in soft silky girl's clothes and put on make-up and style my long hair. But I never really thought of myself as a girl transgender or otherwise. It thought of myself as a sissy faggot who also just happened to be very attached to her cock and balls, especially her balls and who also just happened to also adore girls both as friends and as potential future sex partners.

    When I was 12 my mom caught me in drag, make-up on, hair in pigtails, high heals and all her favorite garments. For a brief second she was pissed that I'd borrowed her things without asking. Then she was shocked that her son was in drag then she wasn't shocked and said she'd known all along I was either gay, transgender or somehow both. I tried to explain that I was none of the above and that I just liked to pretend I was a girl. So she took me to a psychiatrist who specialized in such things and he talked to me forever and on more than one occasion and then a few weeks later informed my mother that I was merely an effeminate bisexual cross dresser, which I'd already tried to tell her. So he would not sign off on declaring me officially a transgender female which would permit me to use the girls rest room and take gym with the girls and go to school dressed as a girl. Only there had been a resent law suit and so all the schools were terrified of being sued so when my mother asked if it was OK for me to attend school wearing the girl's uniform they bent over backward's to accommodate me. The school nurse and principal were in a meeting with my mom then they brought me in and asked me what my gender was. I blurted out, "sissy faggot." But that I was considering "shemale." Just saying that to both women made me tingle between the legs. They tried to correct me and coax me into admitting I was transgender female but I told them I would not presume to pretend to be an authentic female. I'd heard part of that phrase elsewhere earlier in the week and thought it sounded nifty when I said it. So they said that if I won't admit to being transgender female I can't use the lady's rest room or lady's locker room but I could take gym class with the girls. I could also come to school dressed in either the boy's uniform or girls. I could keep my hair long in any approved girl's hair style which included pigtails. So Mom bought me a full wardrobe of girls uniforms and some girl's gym clothes including a sports bra.

    So there I was in the 7th grade, the youngest grade in St. Patrick's Academy. Our progressive bishop had told the parochial schools to be sensitive to the needs of transgender children lest they be sued. So I wore the burgundy plaid pleated kilt style girl's skirt. Mom carefully read the regulations and hemmed my skirts up the shortest the school permitted with only an eighth of an inch to spare. I wore the short sleeved white blouse with the girl's version of the school patch over my heart. I wore the girl's burgundy knee socks trimmed with a ruffle at the top. I wore school approved girl's brown leather shoes. I had the burgundy and white girls gym uniform with white girls gym shoes. I had the girl's burgundy v-neck sweater and wore my long hair in pigtails held up by burgundy silk satin ribbons. My nails were done in regulation burgundy. No other color was permitted except natural. We could wear a subtle shade of lipstick on Friday's if over 14 but Mom gave me some and showed me how to use it and none of the nuns complained.

    The first time I used the boy's rest room in drag was deliciously humiliating. The boys all called me sissy or faggot and I corrected them by saying "that's MISS Sissy Faggot to you!" But the best part was when the absolute cutest 13 year old 8th grader in the entire school grabbed me at lunch and pulled me into the gym and forced me to give him a blow job while he verbally abused me. He came in my mouth thus deflowering it and that is when I fell in love with the flavor of sperm. I told no one and made myself available for the same fun the next day and frequently after that.

    Many of the nuns gave me dirty looks but were warned by the mother superior to be nice to me. One nun said I looked very pretty and will make some man a nice wife one day forgetting I had testicles. A testament to my mother's cosmetic skills.

    That was six years ago, I recently turned 18 and will be graduating this spring. I have played on some of the boy's sports teams. I'm particularly fond of baseball. I wear the boy's sports uniforms when playing but change into my girl's school uniform when the game is over. the only thing is I always wear my pigtails, long burgundy nails and lipstick on the mound. I'm a relief pitcher but I have won a few games for the team so nobody hassles me about my hair, nails and make-up except our opponents who stop laughing when I strike them out. The thing is my favorite part of going in drag is when the girls ridicule my total lack of masculinity and when the boys demand blow jobs and the best, the very best, are those few times when I get to be viciously ridiculed by my female classmates WHILE they watch me suck a male classmate's cock.

    #43383 — Comments (0) — Feb 15, 2019 at 4:39 AM — That's Juicy! (5) Remove It.
  • — Out of the Closet —
    Gay Male / 54

    I had a neighbor who was a couple of years older than me. He had a television in his house and he had a large collection of comic books. We were pretty poor and lived in a small house behind the big house and my mother worked in the big house as a maid. We did not have a television, although sometimes I was allowed to watch television in the big house but I was not allowed to sit on the furniture. We were the only black people in the neighborhood.

    In the big house lived a girl who was a younger than me but I was prohibited from playing with her. So my only friend was the boy that lived a couple of houses down and he invited me over to watch television and read his comic books. There was one more thing, he liked my black cock. He would examine it, play with it, suck it, kiss it with long drawn out kisses. He had me run my cock up and down the crack of his white ass and push my cock into his white asshole. Push it until one day I got it in, just the head but I got it in. After that day he wanted that every time we got together. He liked my black cock and I liked the white girl that lived in the big house.

    One day my mother saw me staring at the white girl, she was seven to be exact, and I looked at her with eyes of desire. I wanted to see her white legs. Time would come when that happened but not yet, I went over to the other boy's house and he sucked and kissed my cock and sometimes I sucked and kissed his cock. And I pushed my cock into his ass until I was able to get it in all the way and then I moved it in and out, but if I pulled it out all the way I had to start over again, so I kept at least half of my cock in his ass when we fucked.

    I was reading a comic book and he asked me to go with him to the bathroom and hold his cock while he peed. I loved getting behind him and holding his cock while he peed. That day I let him pee in my mouth. I liked that, sucking his white cock and let him pee in my mouth. I sucked his cock and drank his pee and I fucked him. You just can't tell how good it was. It was about that time that the white girl became pregnant.

    She was discovered to be pregnant by the doctor because she was sick and they thought she had the flew or something worse. She told her family that it was me and I got in trouble and my mother was fired and we moved away and my mother went to work for a hotel. It wasn't me. But the problem with a black baby at that time is that the family could not keep it so the girl went to a school in another state and when the baby was born it went up for adoption. She never saw the baby or ever knew if it was a boy or a girl.

    She went to college and my mother got her address and I went up to see her on the bus. She couldn't invite me in so we talked out on the front lawn of the boarding house she lived in. She told me that she couldn't see me. She told me that she didn't want to see me. I had to understand, she was white and I was black. She never admitted to me that she lied. The year was 1975.

    I was good with my hands and I worked on refinishing furniture and I sucked cock. Black cock and black guys and from time to time I would suck a white cock and fuck a white guy. I was all queer and it wasn't a secret. At that time a black queer was cool, I guess the white guys getting fucked by a black queer were not cool. I had friends and I lived in the back of this store and paid about 75 dollars in rent. Those were good days.

    #43348 — Comments (2) — Feb 12, 2019 at 4:12 PM — That's Juicy! (7) Remove It.
  • — Out of the Closet —
    Lesbian Female / 28

    My grandmother insisted that I be named after her, Lucinda. I never liked that name and I went by Lucy. I got a degree in Marketing and got hired by a major department store and went through training and I was assigned to the women's clothing on the second floor. That afternoon a woman came in, I guessed her to be my age and she said that she needed a dress for a wedding. She wasn't a bridesmaid she was a guest, but it was her cousin and she needed a dress, something nice. She is not a slender woman, she is about five seven and once she was in her bra and underwear she was what I would call one solid girl. She needed a size twelve or maybe fourteen. Her boobs were boobs, her curves were curves, she had thick legs and strong arms. She told me that in college she played rugby and she was on a rowing team. It is not my place to dress clients but I dressed her, I put every dress on her and took every dress off of her. I told her that she needed to get a bra that fit her, something that would make her look more like a woman, not wear the bra she had on which may be good for rugby but not for the dress. We took her bra off and we tried on several bras until I found one that fit her and made her curves and cleavage show. I told her I loved cleavage on a woman, I loved a woman with curves, I help fit her into this dress that knocked her out, that moved when she moved, that made it clear that under that dress was a lioness. I told her that I wanted to be at the party when she walked in. I took her down to shoes and I helped find her a great pair of heels, I helped find a purse for her, I spent so much time with her, I told her that I would buy the clothes and shoes later with my employee card and take her the clothes. She bought the purse at retail and told me where she lived.

    When I went to her place she lived alone. She invited me in, I asked her if she wanted to try on the dress again and she said she was quite comfortable right then, she was in shorts and barefoot and a top and no bra and she asked me to stay. I sat on the couch and she came and sat beside me and asked me lots of questions and then said just out of the blue if I wanted to be her date for the wedding. Her kiss was unexpected, not unwanted but unexpected, her hands went immediately to my chest and I had no choice but to put my arms around her neck. She took off her top and said she wanted to see and she worked with me to take off my top and she pressed her boobs against mine, no comparison except that my boobs are very sensitive. She told me she dreamed of me that night and I admitted I dreamt of her and she asked me if I wanted to go get on her bed.

    After making love for about an hour we stopped and talked about things, still naked sitting on the bed. She is just curvy and her boobs are everywhere and her skin is so firm and tight, her leg muscles and her arms are just buff, she could break me in two if she wanted, I just fell back on the bed staring at her. The date went well, she helped me pick out a dress that would make us look good, shoes and a purse and we went to the wedding together. She introduced me to family as her date and she kissed me on the dance floor at the reception. We had fun together and we spent the night together and had more fun, and she confessed to me that she had never presented a date to her family before. I had been out to my family since high school, I was a thespian then and all thespians were either gay or lesbians, but she had been an athlete who kept her feelings to herself.

    Going back to my high school days I always only had a crush on a girl in track or the soccer team. I never had a crush on the thespians or dancers or choir girls, I broke a couple of hearts. In college I had a crush on a girl who played tennis, but she had a crush on someone else. And now I had a crush on a sports girl who needed a dress and she had a crush on me. I can't help it I have always liked curves, with lots of muscle, strong legs and arms, and cleavage, I just like cleavage and now I found someone to like who had all that and more.

    #43330 — Comments (0) — Feb 11, 2019 at 9:30 AM — That's Juicy! (4) Remove It.
  • — Out of the Closet —
    Lesbian Female / 28

    The short of it is that I acted on impulse and now I don't know what to do. And this isn't about being Out of the Closet, it is completely about being In the Closet. I have a roommate, I met her in college and we were friends and after college when we both got jobs for the same company we agreed to be roommates and get a bigger place. The apartment has two rooms and two bathrooms so we each have our space. That was five years ago. Our social life revolves around doing things together, in the five years we have been living together not once have we ever gone out alone.

    Now what happened is that my boss, who is not her boss, had tickets to see Celine Dion on Las Vegas. These were first class tickets but his wife had to have surgery and he couldn't make the dates so he generously offered the tickets to me, free. Getting over the uncomfortable part of accepting the tickets, I just couldn't take them and not go. The only person I wanted to go with is my roommate. I told her that this was something we had to do together and if for some reason she didn't want to go I would give back the tickets. This was an opportunity for a get away weekend, just the two of us to Las Vegas, catch a great show and just bum around together. She agreed and we bought our plane tickets and rented a room at a not so nice place and the weekend came up and we went.

    Our room had one queen size bed. No big deal, we had slept together many times over the years. We unpacked and we got dressed to go out and we got a ride to the strip and went from one hotel to the other looking for one that we liked. Neither one of us gambles so it was like window shopping. We were standing in line to catch a cab and this man behind us started to get personal and I turned to him and told him to back off couldn't he see we were together. He answered so your queer, figures. Our cab came I helped my roommate into the cab and we went to another casino. While we were walking the floor of the other casino, she took my hand and asked me to stop. We stood there and she asked me if we were queers. Not answering she asked me when was the last time I had sex with a guy, when was the last time I had even gone out with a guy, not since college and I didn't have sex with him. She said she didn't have sex with a guy, she never had. She took my hands and said we are in Las Vegas let's get married. This can be our wedding trip and honeymoon all rolled into one, let's go find one of those quickie marriage places and get married.

    We walked out of the hotel and she asked the concierge where we could go get married and he gave us a name and place and we stopped at this jewelry store in the hotel and we bought rings and she said we were going to do this, right then, we were getting married, she wasn't going back home single. We went to this marriage chapel, we got all the paperwork done, we waited for our turn and an hour later we were married in Las Vegas. We went to a Ruth Chris steak house and had dinner and we had a picture taken of us holding up our ring fingers. We kissed and we went back to our room to start our honeymoon. It was fast, it was everything, everything we had never done living together we did right then until we fell apart. She got up and stood at the foot of the bed and said that was the happiest day of her life, she was now a Mrs. and she was my Mrs. and I was her Mrs. and she wanted us to change her name to mine.

    The rest of the weekend, the Celine Dion show, the whole thing was a long crazy weekend, five years of holding it in came out and the bed was too big for us. We took hundreds of pictures, she bought me a diamond pendant and I bought her a diamond ring. We got our names tattooed. Three days in Las Vegas and when we flew back home we agreed to move into one room and that night we moved all our clothes together, we showered together and had sex on our bed at home. Then we woke up in the morning and got ready for work. We didn't tell anyone, we didn't go to HR, we didn't call our parents, we didn't tell anyone. She went quietly down to change her name, to register it at the Social Security, but we never told HR. Our lives on the outside were exactly the same as before we went to Las Vegas.

    We have been married a year now, we live together just like always, we work at the same company just like always, we haven't told our parents or families, we go out together with friends just like always. The only way you would know is that we sleep together at home and we have sex a couple of times a week. She baked a cake for our anniversary, we exchanged cheesy first year anniversary cards, we kissed over the cake and we agreed that being married is the best thing we have ever done. But it is a secret to everyone.

    Yes it is nobody's business, but we are married. This isn't like just agreeing to sleep together, we are legally married and all her legal papers have my name on them, her driver's license, her Social Security card, her Passport, her bank account, not to mention her tattoo and mine, not to mention the hundreds and hundreds of pictures we have together and of course we sleep in the same bed and we have sex, real sex. Now what? We have never come out to anyone, the only person who knows we are sexually active is our doctor, and we are in a secret marriage. So how do we have the big reveal?

    #43276 — Comments (0) — Feb 6, 2019 at 10:48 AM — That's Juicy! (2) Remove It.
  • — Out of the Closet —
    Gay Male / 47

    For a long time, going back over ten years, I have been wondering about cock sucking. To be truthful I started thinking about it when I was at a convention and I was with a dealers rep and somehow the conversation turned to sex and he told me that he had been sucking cock for a long time and he would rather suck cock than get laid. Whether he was telling me this to get me to suck cock or to let him suck cock I never found out. But the conversation never left my mind. The more I thought about it the more I became obsessed with the idea to the point that if I am sitting at an airport I look around and wonder what kind of cock the men there have, if I am in a men's room I peak and wonder, if I am driving I think about this guy or that guy and wonder what it would really be like to suck their cock. I just never got attracted to anyone, not enough to even hint at it.

    Our work is not gay friendly, most of the men are into hunting or golfing or poker. We sell heavy industrial equipment. We hired this man, he is in his fifties and he came recommended from a vendor to be the new supply chain manager. Six foot, heavy for his age, college athlete, played ball for one of the big ten teams. Articulate, well spoken, educated and he knew his business. I had a lot of problems with one of my lines and I spent some time with him working out the kinks in the supply chain, basically we had to change vendors. I got to thinking of him on the drive into work. I got to thinking of him during meetings. I didn't know he was gay.

    I asked him to lunch with one of our reps and he was very helpful. My rep later asked me if I thought he was gay. I was taken aback at the question, no he played ball in college. My rep said he was gay, he was the husband. Things changed after that, I had to deal with that and I worked hard to deny that to myself. One night we worked late and we went to this pizza place that he knew about and he was treated well by the staff. On the way out he put his arm around my shoulder. At the car he asked me if I wanted to get to know him better, maybe I would come over to his place and we could have some of that chocolate cake his mother had made.

    At his place we talked and he asked a lot of questions. I was standing, looking at his trophy case from high school and college and he got behind me and put his arm around my shoulder again and he said he liked me, maybe too much. He kissed me there, when I pulled back he said it was OK, but he kissed me again. He asked me if I had ever had a boyfriend, he kissed me again and said I really needed a boyfriend, he kissed me again and told me to come upstairs and he would be my boyfriend. He was in good shape for being 54 years old, with silver hair on his chest, his cock wasn't some out of this world cock, it wasn't any bigger than mine, he rubbed and played with my cock while we kissed and he put my hand on his cock, he leaned down and kissed and sucked my cock and asked me to help him out and I kissed and sucked his cock. He ground his cock up against mine, I was so hard, much harder than usual and he was hard too and he said a man has to be man and know what he likes and he liked me and he wanted to be my boyfriend.

    He likes to kiss and he kissed me over and over, kissed my cock and kissed my nipples and he had me kiss his cock and kiss his nipples and he asked me say out loud that I wanted him to be my boyfriend, to put my arms around his neck and hold him tight while he kissed me, to kiss him back while he put his hand lower under my cock and asked me if I was ready because he really wanted to show me that he liked me. He told me he was clean and he presumed I was clean but if I wasn't I should speak up, no herpes, no VD, no AIDS? Because when a man likes a man he wants to be with a man without anything artificial between them. No, nothing, well then he used his finger to work on me and then he got on and slowly penetrated until he said that was all he didn't have more to give and he got into a rhythm and before I knew it I was holding him while he gave me his last drops.

    He is the husband, we get together socially, I spend weekend nights at his place, I think about him while I am driving to work but now I think about our last time together, I do like kissing his cock and I think about that rep that preferred to suck than get laid and I can't agree with him, I love getting laid. It isn't only about sex, there are lots of fun times, with his friends mostly and we got to social functions, but it is about sex, by the time we have been out for a while I ask him if there is any of that chocolate cake of his mothers and that is our queue to go back to his place and have sex. That in a nut shell is how I ended up with a gay boyfriend.

    #43270 — Comments (0) — Feb 5, 2019 at 9:09 AM — That's Juicy! (7) Remove It.
  • — Out of the Closet —
    Gay Male / 47

    I am a crossdresser and proud to be one also on hormone therapy male to female I love having sex with men I love sucking cock and having my ass stretched to its limits I have more orgasms then I ever did before I have found married men are the best they last longer and cum more I am so glad I have become a feminine crossdresser I am with two married men now on a regular basis and they are ok with it I am a no condom girl and my men love it

    #43245 — Comments (0) — Feb 3, 2019 at 3:03 PM — That's Juicy! (3) Remove It. ( * )
  • — Out of the Closet —
    Bi-Sexual Male / 37

    I my twenties I would get high on pot and go to gay bars in Ft Lauderdale to tease gay men. I have a feminine side and would wear nylon panties, nylon short shorts size extra small to show my cheeks and a girls tie in front blouse.
    I was good looking and not flaming but definitely gay in manners and got all the attention I wanted. When I walked thru a crowd, my ass would attract hands. I would get a hard on when guys were hitting on me and that made me even more desired. When the right guy chatted me up, I would go out to his or my car and let him do whatever he wanted with me. Sometime we would make out and other times I would go down on him. After doing this with several dates, I would find a dark place to park, do some more pot and fix myself up pretty and get out of the car and walk hooker style. When guys came up to me, I would let my fem side out completely and if I liked them, would tell them to park and I would walk over and get in their car. Sometimes the guys were straight but just wanted to walk on the wild side. Sometimes they were married and just needed a blowjob. Mostly, they were gay and wanted sex. Sometimes, I followed them to a nearby no tell motel for an ass pounding fucking. Sometimes after having several dates I would sit in my car and strip down to panties and stroke my cock and wait to see who saw me and would come over. Guys liked seeing me that way. Nude and kinky and knowing I would suck them off!

    #43234 — Comments (1) — Feb 2, 2019 at 7:23 PM — That's Juicy! (9) Remove It.
  • — Out of the Closet —
    Bi-Sexual Female / 51

    Married and the kids are out on their own my husband gave me cruise for my 50th birthday present. We flew to Italy and caught the cruise around the Mediterranean. On board we met a German couple and we got along well and had dinner with them a couple of times so we invited them to our cabin for a before dinner drink and chat. The husbands sat out on the veranda and had a smoke and a whiskey and the ladies sat inside and had a glass of wine.

    The talk went from one topic to the other and then it landed on our life before marriage and some of our experiences. She was a bit too open for my taste, telling me how she had been in love with the girl next door. She had those distant eyes and she told me how they had their first time together and how she was in love after that. But her family was Lutheran and her father was a very strict man and he objected to her being in love with the girl next door so he found her husband and had her marry him. Wow!! To think that this 50 plus woman had been married to this man for 30 years and she was still in love with the girl next door.

    Somehow this brought us together in a special way, I told her a little about some of my high school crushes and my college experience losing my virginity and how I met my husband and at work and he seemed to offer the security that I was looking for. But her story of her love for the girl next door was just too much. In that twenty or so minute conversation she told me that once she was married she stayed with him and never followed her heart and never made love with her girlfriend.

    We got home from our cruise and I went back to work at my somewhat boring job at the insurance office where I work and my husband went back to his job. One of the young girls at my work flirts a lot with me. I had never put it together, she was flirting not just being friendly and I asked her to lunch and one weekend after that I asked her to go with me to this quilt show and I was friendly to her and she was very friendly to me. I kissed her at the quilt show and she didn't say anything so I kissed her lips again and said I hoped she didn't mind. I asked her to show me where she lived and we went there and I asked her for a kiss, this time I asked her for a kiss to make up for all the kisses we had missed, I undressed her slowly playing with her as I took off this and that and let her undress me. There were lots of kisses and gentle massages of her breasts but I was intent of doing what I wanted, I opened her legs and tasted a girl for the very first time.

    She and I have a wonderful close relationship and we have made love so many times that you stop counting, long sensuous kisses, full body massage, and she was always so ready to let me open her legs and show her how much I want to make love to her. I didn't have a girl next door to love when I was growing up, and I felt bad about feeling the way I did, I waited until I was almost through college before I let a guy have sex with me so that I could say I did, I married my husband because he was a good catch but never felt wild for him. No, over the years from time to time I found myself with feelings for a neighbor or a coworker or a young woman at the mall. After listening to the story of the lost love of my German friend on the cruise I decided that was enough. I came home and I let the girl at work know just how big my feelings for her are and try to show her everyday that she is the love of my heart. I am not going to walk away anymore.

    #43186 — Comments (0) — Jan 29, 2019 at 9:56 AM — That's Juicy! (9) Remove It.
  • — Out of the Closet —
    Lesbian Female / 29

    Growing up with a small petite very pretty little sister is not easy. I took after my father, five eight and weight around 145 to 155 pounds, blondish and brown eyes and lanky and just not properly proportioned. My sister took after my mother's side of the family, she is small, petite, very pretty with a brown hair and brown eyes, porcelain skin, perfectly proportioned. She went into Marketing and I followed my father into Engineering.

    I never had a boyfriend in high school, boy friends yes, boyfriends no. I graduated pure. My sister had boyfriends all the time and she graduated not pure. We went to the same college to save money and I was my sister's social secretary. It is of course an exaggeration but for purposes of this she had sex every week and I never had sex. Zero. We graduated from college and I was pure. She graduated from college and she wasn't pure and she had marketed herself to half the male population on campus.

    I went to work in my father's company and she moved to Chicago to work with a Marketing company. She became the VP's girl Friday (night) and rose up and now she is the Account Manager for one of their largest accounts. I worked through the bottom rungs one by one always had friends but not boyfriends (or girlfriends either which I was seriously considering). I turned 25 still pure. She turned 25 a part of the social set in Chicago. When we talk she is all over about how she and her boyfriend, the VP, do this and that and where he takes her and all the sex they have. I tell her about this boring project I am working on with a couple of nerd engineers and that fun is Friday night watching Netflix.

    One day I am having lunch with one of the nerd engineers and I tell him quite frankly that I am seriously considering a black guy or a girl but I have to have something, I don't want to turn 30 and never been fucked. He gets on my case about the black guy comment, no black guy, better dead than let a black guy fuck me. The girl thing he can stomach if I have to do that, but no black guy. I sat back and asked him why I had to do what he said and he said that if I did a black guy he would never talk to me again.

    The whole idea of a black guy died right there. That left a girl. He told me that I needed to start going to places where girls hung out, especially girls who wanted to get with girls. There were well known lady lunch places and of course there was always the gym or yoga or one of those things. I needed to just put on my girly panties and start going to one of the ladies only lunch places and sit at the counter and hope that some woman would come up and start a conversation. He coached me on how to dress, conservatively but nice, to let the girl talk and control the conversation and when she hit on me to let her. I had to let her touch me so get used to the idea first.

    I went to this ladies only lunch place and I did what I was told I sat at the counter and ate slowly and I had several conversations with women who went there but no date. My coach told me to try a wine bar after work, to ask around and see where a girl could go to get laid. Same thing, dress nice and conservative, nice on the makeup and let the conversation go, allow touching and smile and let myself get picked up. If I wanted to get laid I had to let myself get picked up. The woman that picked me up is a lawyer, mid fifties with a Mercedes and she got very hot when she found out she was getting my virginity. I did have an orgasm, she made sure I had an orgasm. I dated her for a while. But all in all it just wasn't right.

    I told my coach that I had gotten laid but that I still didn't feel the burn. She had to work hard to get me going I just couldn't get in the mood on my own. Wrong girl, I needed another girl, maybe younger, someone who had that certain umph about her. Maybe long hair, maybe instead of getting picked up I needed to focus on a girl and go talk to her and pick her up. Be the butch. Being the butch was harder than getting picked up but after several false starts I did meet a girl at the wine bar who was moving from out of town and she went home with me and I used my experience with the woman lawyer to initiate sex with her. After sex I was more myself and we talked about the whole difficult thing of meeting someone and we started going out, dating. After six months she moved in with me.

    When you meet her and if my sister is there you will see that they are almost perfect clones of each other. Same body size, body type, hair color and physical features, they could be sisters or close cousins. The only difference is that my girlfriend is pure when it comes to guys, and I am pure when it comes to guys and we like that about each other.

    #43171 — Comments (0) — Jan 28, 2019 at 8:48 AM — That's Juicy! (4) Remove It.
Back to Top