Then There Were None

Out with a whimper and not a bang? Monday was my big day. Thong panties, cable knit tights, skirt, bustier, satin top (which doesn't really work), pearl ear rings, pearl choker, ladies watch, eyeliner, mascara, three and a half inch mary janes finishing with a ladies knit cap. Sort of a brimmed beret? Once again, I surprised myself. Even without trying to cover my shadow, or paint my lips, one could see hints of a woman. That cap helped tons! I suppose a decent wig might too.

About dusk, all dressed up I went for a ride to a local shopping district and had a walk about. I added a scarf to hide the beard. I didn't venture indoors but stuck to the sidewalks. Cold weather and evening light left me unnoticed. It still felt exposed. Somehow the thrill was gone. Even less of a rush than jogging in my skort. So long as I stayed on the street, I was passable. What did I want out there?

It brought back another one of those childhood memories. A backyard camping adventure. I'm not sure how old we were, probably eight or nine. It seems hard for me to believe, even back in those innocent days that my parents would have let me stay out overnight younger than that.

Anyway, the neighbor kid and I would stay out fairly often. Sometimes on his back deck. Usually further from the house. We often fished some. Played cards. Strip poker mostly. Almost always talked about things we didn't understand--women and "fucking" them. We took turns simulating sex. One on top of the other, dry humping with no purpose. No, I didn't always volunteer, or even secretly long to be in the woman's position. I didn't like it. Although being on top left me pretty nonplussed too. I had no idea how to stimulate myself. I assume he didn't either.

What walking those cold slick sidewalks brought back was a memory from one of those long-ago nights in particular. I decided to take a walk away from the yard--nude. My friend wouldn't go. It wasn't far, but felt a world away. My little dick hard as granite, I tried strolling casually. The cool night air on my body caught each little hair that stood on my energized skin. I recall the sensation of thrusting my groin ahead, piercing the night as I walked.

My goal was probably no more than 50 yards. I couldn't make it. I'm not sure why I chickened out. Fear of something in the dark? Concern over being naughty? I just don't know why I turned back. I only remember the excitement of nakedness.

What's common with that experience and being in womens vestments? Why was the remembrance cued now? Especially since the kick was missing?

Without an answer I went home.

I was so nervous it was like being on a junior high date, except this time my skirt went up, tights and panties came down. Overexcited, I actually had a moment of trouble getting an erection. I played with my titties just a little. I stroked. I took no chances. Heels went over. The purplish head of my dick was just inches from my gaping mouth. I rubbed and came.

Not much else to say but that it was disappointing. Intensity and volume were both missing. I'd anticipated the first, but not the second. At least for me personally, I believe I pushed the denial too far.

The only other time I'd really tried something like this, I had gone five days. Then, like now, I had eaten directly from my dick. I could feel the streams hitting the back of my mouth, pooling at my throat.

When I finished, I literally gagged not expecting my shut mouth to be filled. I had to hollow its shape so I wouldn't spill. I was disgusted, fascinated and horny as hell all at the same time. I stomached the load in a gulp, savoring the after-taste in my still hungry cockpit.

That's what I'd hoped for. Had driven me so long. I got hardly a taste.

Maybe the next day might be better. It wasn't. "Feeling like a girl" was closer to normal, but volume was way down. The third day the same. It appears my body has stopped producing semen. Okay not stopped but drastically slowed. I had expected cum flying everywhere. Instead, what I got was no more than a third ejaculation on a busy day.

I would hardly say it was a wasted 32 days. It was an experience. Not all have happy endings. I think I discovered a few things, not least of which will be in New Year's post.

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