One a Day For Girls

One a Day for Girls
By Mel Huntington

The author welcomes feedback at [email protected]

This is the story of a mother and her child. She gave birth 18 years ago and was sure she was having a girl. But there were complications and this is the story of how that cosmic mistake got rectified.

I was studying my notes for my Chemistry final when I heard my Mother's voice as she came down the stairs.

"Happy birthday my darling boy! How does it feel to be 18 and only three days from graduation?"

"About the same as it did to be 17 and four days from graduation."

"Such a grumble Gus. Well happy birthday just the same."


"I know you have one more final tomorrow but I hope you aren't going to keep your nose in that book all day. All you have to do is pass the exam, honey."

I grunted. The phone rang as my Mother started flipping thru a folder of papers.

"Could you get that please?"

I stood up from the kitchen table and lifted the receiver.

"Huntington residence ... no this isn't Elizabeth Huntington. I'm her son Mel. Hold on."

"Mom? It sounds like a telemarketer."

"Just tell them I'm not interested and remove me from their list."

I did as she had asked and returned to my coffee and my notes.

"Are you upset because Daddy isn't here on your birthday?"

"I don't care about that."

"Well if he was here, he might make you cut your hair," she said teasingly

I flipped my long brown hair behind my each ear and said firmly "I'm not. Cutting. My hair."

"I was just teasing honey. No one is going to make you cut your hair. After all you're an adult now."

"Finally, a benefit to being 18," I said.

"Well I know your Father is sorry that he can't be here on your 18th birthday. But you know he's getting paid a lot of money for this one year contract."

"Not to mention freezing his cojones," I replied.

"The money is going to make a big difference for the family, Mel. A big difference for everybody, even you. It's going to be worth it, you'll see. I know he's thinking about you."

I grunted again.

"Now, don't forget your pill."

She fished out a bottle from her purse and handed me the tablet.

"That's one thing that doesn't change. Whether it's Daddy or you, you never let me forget my medicine."

I took the tablet and washed it down with the last of my coffee.

"OK I'm off. Try not to spend the whole day studying honey. I know you'll do fine on this last final exam. Oh one other thing. Could you please run a load of laundry for me? Just whites and lights please. I have a wash bag with my cotton bras in the hamper. Don't forget the bag doesn't go in the dryer, right?"

"Yeah, I know."

"OK now give your Mommy a hug."

I sighed and rose from the table. She looked at me.

"You know you can't keep wearing those baggy sweats much longer. It looks like we're skipping spring and going straight to summer. The high is supposed to be almost 80 today."

I shrugged as my Mother came forward. Her arms came around my waist as my hands landed on her shoulders, creating a gap between the two of us.

"What kind of hug is that? You used to be such a cuddly boy."

I turned sideways to her then and slipped my left arm around her shoulders, and now she was hugging across my shoulders, and we stood there for a moment until she kissed my cheek then stepped back.

"Your skin is so soft, Mel. I've wanted to ask you what you've been using."

"Nothing, Mother. Nothing at all."

"Well, I gotta run I'll be late. Happy birthday honey. I just have office hours for my students until 4 o'clock then I'll come straight home so we can start your birthday celebration. Speaking of, don't forget to make dinner reservations wherever you want to go tonight. Have a good day."

"You, too," I said.

I watched the door to the garage close, and when I heard the motor move the garage door back down, I took off up the stairs. It was 8:30.

I reached my bedroom and kicked off my slippers. My pink toe nail polish glistened in the light.
I pulled off the sweat pants my Mother had criticized a moment before, and ran my palms along the satiny smoothness of my legs.

"I do use skin lotion, Mom. Same brand as you," I thought to myself.

Then I prepared the three pieces of tape I needed. It was second nature now, to do what needed to be done, and it took but a moment to hide that part of me that screamed "Mel."

"Yeah, I am going to have a good day," this time aloud. "I get to be Melissa all day long."

I reached into my dresser drawer, the bottom one, far in the back, and pulled out a pair of panties I had rescued from the trash. They were cotton, aqua marine, and had been mine now a long time. I pulled them up and admired the flat V-shape that formed in front. I turned and wiggled my bum, and tried to ignore the way they bunched in the back. My Mother's butt was larger than my own.

"You really should get panties that will fit, Melissa," I reminded myself.

Next I pulled my sweat shirt over my head and dropped it on the floor. I picked up the hair brush from the dresser and began to brush out my hair, stroke after stroke, first one side and then the other.

Cut my hair? I thought. Not in a million years. I hadn't won many battles with my parents, but my hair was a symbol of one of the biggest victories. And I hadn't even known, when the victory occurred, that I had won.

When I was a kid, once a month, every month, my Father would announce that we were going to the barber the following Saturday, no ifs, ands or buts. I'd protest, told him it was my hair and I should decide when and how it should be cut. But each time he told the barber how he wanted my hair cut, and I sat there in sullen acquiescence, month after month and year after year. Sometimes I threw temper tantrums, and sometimes I cried but it wouldn't matter. It never mattered.

Until I turned 12, and suddenly the monthly trips stopped. I had been sick the first time he went to the barber without me, but I knew I had gotten only a temporary reprieve. But the next weekend, and the weekend after that, until two months had passed, my Father said nothing, until I finally asked.

"Well," he'd said, "you're growing up now and we've decided that how you wear your hair is your decision." I kept my composure then, and thanked him, and he told me to thank my Mom too and I did, and then I excused myself. When I got to my room, I started to cry, tears of joy this time.

Now, six years later, my hair fell halfway down my back, and I loved when girls complimented me, and if sometimes people thought I was a girl from behind, that was OK, too.

I reached into the dresser drawer again and this time removed my carefully folded bra, also rescued from my Mother's discards. I slipped the straps over my shoulders, and bent forward a little, bringing the cups underneath, before I straightened up and slipped the hook and clasp together.

I looked at myself in the mirror. The cups dimpled because I didn't fill them out as I wanted.

"It won't be long now, Melissa," I whispered.

"Now let's go see what Mommy bought for us at the cosmetics counter."

I walked into my parent's bedroom, letting my hips sway a bit as I moved, and sat down at my Mother's vanity. I started to look thru her newest purchases and when I saw the smokey midnight blue eye shadow I smiled, and then I started working on my foundation, blush, and lips. Then I turned my attention to my eyes.

I was finishing my mascara when my mother's voice startled me.

"There's my beautiful daughter."

My eyes shifted until they met hers thru the vanity mirror. She was standing in the doorway, her eyes looking impassively at me.

"Mel, I asked you to wash my bras, not wear them. If you wanted a bra to wear around the house you should have asked. Take it off."

I didn't know what to say. Should I tell her the bra is one she threw away? I thought. And wait a minute - did she just say that if I wanted to wear bras she'd buy them for me?

"Come on Mel." She emphasized my given name, interrupting my scrambled thoughts. "Stand up and take it off."

I did as I was told. I stood up and faced my Mother, and slipped the bra straps off my shoulders, reaching behind me to undo the clasps. After it slipped off my left arm, the other strap fell into the palm of my hand. I held if for a moment, then I let my mother's bra fall to the floor. My arms fell to my sides and my Mother's eyes grew big.

"My God, Mel, you've got breasts! And a butt! We've got to get you to a doctor and find out what's the matter with you."

"No, Mommy, no!" I cried. "I love my breasts. Don't take them away from me! I'm a girl, Mommy. I've always known I was supposed to be a girl!"

Then my Mother smiled, a radiant glowing smile, and she moved toward me. I collapsed into her arms.

"Oh Melissa how I've waited for this day. I know honey. Of course I know! Now let me see that body you've been covering up for the last six months."

We stood together at the full length mirror, and she smiled at the reflection.

We are both five foot seven inches tall, her head being higher only due to her heels. She put her hands on my shoulders and pulled them back, making my back arch and my small breasts jut out from my chest.

At first the swelling had been barely perceptible, and I was sure I was only projecting my dreams into a false reality. But then my nipples started to change, growing wider and thicker, and the swelling on my chest couldn't be denied, and then I spent hours in my room, cupping and caressing them, as if they might grow faster.

And my waist had started to shrink then too, or at least it looked that way because my butt and hips were growing. The baggie clothes could still hide them, but standing next to my mother, only wearing her discarded panties, nothing was hidden anymore.

"Such a pretty girl, Melissa. You know I was just like you, a late bloomer. When I was 17 my breasts were no bigger than yours are now."

She pulled her robe off the hangar and gave it to me. Then she sat me on the bed and handed me a tissue which I used to dab at my eyes.

"Melissa ..."

I interrupted her. "I can't believe I am hearing you call me that."

"Well you have breasts and a booty, should I still call you Mel? Melissa is the name I picked out for you when I was pregnant. You see honey, I knew, I mean I absolutely knew, from the moment I found out I was pregnant, that I was going to give birth to a little girl. I told everyone."

She paused as she remembered, then continued.

"I even saw a psychic, an island voodoo psychic lady named Mrs St Croix, who told me I was right. And your father scoffed at me and told me it was silly and no one could know what sex the baby would be. But I believed, and Mrs. St Croix told me I was right. She said there would be complications but that I definitely would have a daughter."

"I couldn't imagine what she could mean by complications, and then I went into labor and after, I asked the doctor, is my daughter healthy and he said, "Well ..."

"They said you had 'ambiguous genitalia' and I said no, she's a girl. But your Father said I was foolish to listen to a 'psychic' and that we have to listen to the doctors And the doctors, the doctors said it was easiest and best for you to have surgery, to take away the female parts and make you fully male, to raise you as a boy. And your Father made me swear that I'd never tell you any of this."

"You mutilated me," I said quietly.

"Oh honey how could we know? It's not like we could ask you what you wanted. We had to make the best decision we could. But it didn't take long to realize we made the wrong decision. When you were three years old ..."

"Daddy was giving me a bath and I tucked my penis between my legs, and I said 'Now I look like Mommy.'"

It was my earliest memory, a story never told to anyone.

"And your Daddy spanked you."

"Beat me," I corrected her.

"And he kept trying to make you into a boy, and you kept rebelling. He kept your hair short, and bought you toy guns and toy soldiers, and wanted you to play football and lift weights and if you cried he said cut it out, boys don't cry and you were so miserable. And it broke my heart."

"I hate him," I said quietly.

"I know you do honey. But I hope you'll change your mind. You know that at the age of 12 your Father stopped making you cut your hair. That was our decision. And remember when the doctor said you had a 'chronic condition' and needed daily medication? Well that chronic condition was really Gender Dysphoria,. And the medicine was hormone blockers."

"It was a test," she continued. "We wanted to see, if you didn't develop into a young man, become more like your father, would you say anything? Would you watch your classmates reach puberty and nothing changed for you, would you question it? And your silence told us what we knew. What I knew all along.

"So six months ago when Daddy left for this job in Alaska,"she continued, "We switched the meds and I started giving you estrogen. Why did you think your breasts started growing, honey?"

"I thought God had finally heard my pleas. My nightly prayer that I wake up and would be a girl."

"Well not God, Melissa, but Mommy and Daddy. We're the ones who heard your pleas."

She pulled out the bottle from her purse and showed it to me.

"Please ma'am may I have some more?" I said in a British orphan accent. She smiled and told me I could have as many as I wanted, and it took two glasses of water before I had swallowed every pill in the bottle.

My Mother laughed at me, then took a deep breath.

"What is it Mommy?"

"The real reason your Father took that job in Alaska on a 12 month contract was to make enough money for you to have surgery."

"Surgery? You mean I am really going to be a girl? Oh my god Mommy I love you so much!"

"And Daddy?"

"And Daddy too! I can't believe this is happening."

I started crying again, the tears running down my cheeks in a torrent, my makeup flowing with them.

"Oh honey I know this is emotional for you but you need to get yourself together. It's your birthday, and finally I have a daughter to spoil rotten. We're going to the mall and find you some clothes!"

"Oh my God, Mom! But what am I going to wear out?"

"Well I have some outfits that I think will fit and I hope you'll like. But first we should fix your make up. I thought I might need to give you some pointers but I can see you don't need any. You do know what's appropriate for a 'day look' right?"

"Oh course I do, Mother."

"And there's really one other thing that has to be done. Your eyebrows."

It was the one missing part, what I'd wanted to do since I was 13 but couldn't dare. Finally I was going to have the arched, tapered, pretty eyebrows every girl has.

"Will you help me, Mom?"

"Of course."

I sat down at the vanity again and in a few minutes, my Mother had transformed my eyebrows and I was smiling at my reflection. I re-did my eye make up, this time with just a little eyeliner and light mascara and some subtle, barely-there eye shadow. My Mother was watching me in the mirror and smiling.

"You look very pretty Melissa."

"Thank you. You know when I was younger and I'd watch you get ready to go out, I was watching everything you did with your makeup."

"Yes honey, I knew."

"And when you decided I didn't need a babysitter anymore, I'd put on your makeup while you were gone. I used to have nightmares that you'd come home early, or that there would be a fire and I'd run out of the house before I could wipe it all off."

I smiled at the thought that I'd never have to go out without makeup again.

My mother moved into her closet and began pulling out bags and hangers.

"I hope I got the right sizes. I bought some small panties and some B-cup bras. We just need to be sure which is the right size. I just got white ones, we'll get you other colors when we're out."

I slipped off my Mother's cast-off panties and threw them in the trash basket, then I pulled on the panties, which fit fine and felt wonderful. I tried the size 33B bra first and it fit perfectly. Now when I turned each way, my underwear fit as it should, and it really accented the curves that I had so carefully covered up over the past months. I'd never have to cover them up again.

"So what are my options Mommy?"

"I got you a pretty skirt & blouse as well as a dress. I think you may like the dress best."

As soon as I lifted the plastic over the hanger I knew she was right. The dress was an 'optical illusion' dress, royal blue in the body but with white along the sides. It was designed to make every curve look curvier. I stepped into the dress and pulled it up to my waist before slipping my arms into the sleeves. My Mother stood behind me as she pulled the zipper up. I watched in the mirror as the dress pulled tight against my body, the fit was perfect and the coloring made my body look so much more womanly. I beamed at my reflection.

"Pumps or wedges?" my Mother asked and I chose wedges, royal blue to match the dress.

"I know we need to pierce your ears but I did get you some clip on earrings."

She handed me some costume earrings, white, shaped like sea shells, and I slipped them onto my ears, frowning. I had pink toe nails but nothing on my finger nails.

"I should do my nails, shouldn't I?"

"Well I was thinking it would be easier to get you a Mani-pedi at my salon. That is, if you're willing to have your hair cut and styled."

"Oh Mom yes I would love to go to your salon."

"Good because we've got an appointment in about 15 minutes."

"Pick a handbag Melissa." And I did, a white one with a long gold chain. I put a dab of my Mother's perfume behind each ear and then smiled at her.


"I think so."

We went downstairs together. My Mother complimented me on how I walked in heels. I told her it wasn't the first time I had worn them.

I stopped at the door to the garage and Mom looked at me.

"What if we run into one of the neighbors? What am I going to say? What will they say? How should I act?"

"Just be yourself. Do what comes naturally."

We got into the car and backed out of the garage. As she backed into the street I looked to the right and our neighbor, Tammy, who was working on her flower garden, was waving.

"Just go, Mom. Please."

But she kept her foot on the brake and lowered the passenger side window.

"Hi Tammy, how are you?"

"Hi Liz." Tammy bent at my window and looked at me.

"Who is this?"

"It's me, Tammy. Mel. But I prefer to be called Melissa." I looked pleadingly into her eyes and she looked warmly at me.

"Oh Melissa you look so pretty. Good for you. I always had a feeling about you. Enjoy your day, girls."

I was speechless but Mom said, "Oh I am sure we will. Talk to you later," as she pulled away.

I started to laugh, and then my throat caught and I felt like I was going to cry again.

"Now don't ruin your makeup again, Melissa."

"I won't ... it's just ... I don't know. I wasn't ready for that reaction." And I started to smile again. I was ready then, ready to go out and be the girl I was born to be.

"So do you know how you want your hair styled, Melissa?"

"I think so," I said and smiled at her.

We walked into my Mother's salon and my Mother introduced me around. The staff was surprised, to say the least, to learn that Liz Huntington had a daughter.

"Well, she hasn't been living with us. She was ... overseas, at boarding school. But she just graduated and she's home until she starts college. Who wants to take care of her? Dawn?"

Dawn spoke.

"It would be my pleasure Melissa. What did you have in mind?"

"I'd like to get a bob, Dawn." I waved my fingers just below my ears to emphasize how much I wanted her to cut off. After a pause, I turned toward my mother. Her mouth was hanging open.

"Got you!" I said as I laughed.

"You little stinker!" She replied. Then she spoke to Dawn.

"Melissa has wanted long hair since she was so young. I never thought ..." She laughed and said again, "You stinker!"

"Got you!" I repeated.

"Actually Dawn I thought I'd like this style." I pointed at one of the model's pictures on the wall.

Her hair was parted in the middle, with bangs framing her face to just below her jawline. The rest of her hair had wide, angled cuts at progressively longer lengths, creating a pretty, layered look.

"Oh Melissa that is going to look so pretty," my Mom said.

Dawn led me back to the shampoo station and when the shampoo girl was done, she led me to Dawn's chair, where I sat for my first feminine haircut. Dawn combed out my wet hair and began to carefully separate two or three inch wide swaths of hair and began to turn me into the beautiful model pictured on the wall. My Mom had sat down below the picture frame and she smiled at me, and I smiled back, and she mouthed the words "don't cry" and I subtly shook my head 'no'.

I picked pink polish for the beds, and white at the tips, and I felt so pampered and lucky, and when Dawn finished with the blow dryer, Mother came over and spoke.

"Oh Melissa it looks even prettier than I thought it would. Dawn you did a great job."

"It was my pleasure, Liz. You girls have a great day together, OK?"

Mom steered toward the mall and I asked if we could get bras and panties first and she said of course and parked by the entrance closest to Victoria's Secret.

I walked in, trying to keep my emotions in check. After all, buying such things is a normal occurrence for girls, why would anyone be that excited about it? Soon I had armfuls of beautiful bra and panty sets, and sexy sleepwear too, including a black baby doll nightie, and pink pajamas, designed for a girl - no hideous bulge or fly in front.

As we browsed together, I noticed a group of four girls moving thru the store in unison, chatting and giggling. They were my age, and it seemed like one, the prettiest, was the leader. They were watching me when my Mother held up a pair of boy panties, tightie whities re-designed for a girl. I wrinkled my nose and mouthed the word "gross" to her.

The Queen Bee spoke, loud enough for me to overhear her.

"God. I can't believe she's shopping with her Mother. Don't you come here with your girl friends?"

I stared at her.

"For your information, my Mom is my best friend."

The Queen Bee smiled, all false sincerity.

"I think that's really sweet."

Then she turned toward her friends, and in a stage whisper said, "Loser" and laughed.

"Bitch," I replied, but not in a stage whisper, and three other shoppers turned their heads as I walked back toward my Mom.

After she paid for my purchases, as we were walking out, my Mom whispered.

"I am so proud of you, Melissa."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because, I've never seen you stand up for yourself like that. The old you would have just slinked away if someone picked on you like that."

"Well I just wasn't ... myself before."

We were strolling between shops when my Mother pulled my hand toward a shoe store, and pointed at one pair in the window. As I looked, I saw a reflection in the window. A young man, 19 or 20 years old, stopped behind us. I could tell he was staring at my butt. His eyes moved up my body until they met my own, just for an instant, before I glanced away and he continued walking. I whispered to my Mother.

"Yes, I know. I noticed him checking you out before and I wanted you to see what he looked like."

"Oh my God," I said.

"Melissa, you better get used to guys paying attention to you. You're a pretty girl in a public place. Guys have been known to stare at what catches their eye. Who knows, someone might even hit on you."

"I don't know if I'm ready for that, Mother."

We went from store to store, and Mom wouldn't deny me anything I wanted. Cute little shorts and cropped t-shirts, skirts and blouses, dresses and jeans, cosmetics and costume jewelry, and shoes, so many shoes. She said she was making up for years of shopping for the wrong clothes for the wrong gender.

After our third trip back to the car to drop off the bags, Mom said we should stop back at the food court. It was 3:00 and we hadn't eaten anything since breakfast.

Mom asked me to get her a salad and a diet soda while she went to the ladies room. I was glad I didn't need to go. As I stood on line, I glanced behind me and realized the same boy who had been checking me out before was right behind me. He smiled, and I smiled back at him, half hoping that he would talk to me and half petrified that he would talk to me.

"So, where are your besties?"

I didn't know what to say and all I came up with was, "Hmm?"

"Your best friends. I thought all beautiful girls traveled in packs with their best friends."

"Oh, um ... no, I'm um ... I'm shopping with my Mom. She's using the restroom."

"I'm Bobby."

"Um ... Melissa. Did you really say I'm beautiful?"

"What, no one's ever told you that before? Listen Melissa, I'm having a graduation party next Saturday, you're welcome to drop by. What's your number?"

"No, um, I don't think I can make it ..."

The cashier saved me by calling out "next person in line?" and I tried to smile at Bobby before turning away. I had to cough a couple of times, my throat felt so dry and constricted, before I could give her our order.

I paid her, and it was then I realized someone else was next in line. Bobby had only gotten on line so he could talk to me and ask for my number and then he went back to his seat, rejoining his friends. He waved at me, and I smiled a tiny smile and began to look for my Mother. When I didn't find her I took a seat at an empty table, and in a few moments she joined me.

"Do you want some salad, Melissa?"

I ate a couple of forkfuls of her salad and then I spoke.

"Please don't make it look obvious but if you look over my right shoulder, do you see the same boy who was checking me out before?"

Mother glanced in Bobby's direction.

"Ooh he's really cute. You should go over there and say something."

"I already did. He was behind me while I was in line. He asked where my BFFs were, because beautiful girls only travel in packs."

"That's cute. What did you say?"

"I hardly remember. I was so nervous and flustered being spoken to by a hot guy. He asked me to his graduation party. I said no."

"You said 'no'?"

"Of course I said 'no'. I'm not ready to start dating. Not now. Not yet ... after Daddy comes home. After. Not now. I don't want to be in a position where my secret might get discovered. No way. I'll date after ..."

"Suit yourself. He's really cute though. Maybe you should give him your number, play a little hard to get, then 'after', you can call him back."

"What, just go up to him and say, 'I'm sorry I turned you down, but can you wait six months? You see, I'm on a six month daily hair washing regimen. But in six months, if you can wait that long, give me a call and maybe we can go do something.' What do you think, Mother?"

"I think we need to talk about boys, honey. That's what I think. And I think I might just go over there and help you out with this particular boy."

"No, Mother, please. Don't embarrass me. Just let me go at my pace, when I'm ready. I'm sure I'll meet another boy just as hot as Bobby."

"Boys like Bobby like confident girls, Melissa. You showed such confidence at the store with those bullies. Show me the same confidence with that boy. Just go and talk to him. Give him your number, or get his."

I took a breath, and started to psyche myself up. I can do this, I thought.

I stepped back from the table and turned and saw Bobby was watching me. I smiled shyly and started walking toward his table. Bobby and three other boys were all watching me, and I kept my eyes on the floor until I reached his chair.

"Real confident, Melissa," I thought as I walked, trying to think about what I should say. My mind was a blank but Bobby rescued me.

"Melissa, hello again. Is that your Mom? I can see where you get your good looks."

I smiled again. "Um, thanks, Bobby. It is my Mom and she was just telling me that our family plans were changing on Saturday night so, you know maybe I can stop by your party."

I handed him my cell phone.

"Can you put your number in? I'll call or text you if it looks like I can go."

"Great," Bobby said as he took my phone, his pale blue eyes looking intently up at me. I smiled again, and looked down at the floor.

"Here you go, I think I might have accidentally auto-dialed somebody, sorry about that," Bobby said as he handed back my phone. His phone started to ring as I pressed the end call button. He also pressed a button and his phone fell silent.

"OK, so, um, I'll let you know if I can go."

"I hope you can, Melissa. It's gonna be a blast. No parents, plenty of booze."

I turned away then, and I met my Mother's eyes and my eyes grew large, a look of "Oh my God I can't believe I just did that." Mom smiled. As I walked toward her, I heard Bobby's friends.

"She's cute, man," said one.

"A little small up top," said another.

"Hey man, more than a mouthful is a waste."

"Yeah whoever said that never dated a girl with big tits."

And the others laughed, except for Bobby. I heard him tell his friends to cut it out before their voices faded amidst the din of the food court.

"Way to go Melissa!" said Mom when I reached the table. "We got you everything a girl needs, even a boyfriend. I told you this mall was the best."

"Very funny, Mother. He's not my boyfriend. I'm not going to call him. I am not going to date anyone until after my surgery."

"Well I'm still very proud of you just for going up to him and talking to him."

When we got home, Mom and I took several large garbage bags and filled them with all of my old clothes. Mom told me we'd do some more shopping soon.

"That's great but what about when I outgrow all of these new outfits? I mean, we up my hormone dose, my development is going to be faster and I'll get hips, bigger booty and bigger breasts. You shouldn't spend too much money on things I can only wear for a little while."

"You let me worry about that Melissa. We can always donate whatever you outgrow."

"Whatever you say. Can we go to the bedding department next time? I'd really like to change the sheets and comforter on my bed. Something pink, or flowery. It's like the last reminder of how I was raised."

"Of course, honey. We can go after dinner. Wait a sec - we don't have any reservations, do we?"

"No, like we've had a chance to? But I'm glad I didn't. This has been such an amazing day Mom can we just stay in, order pizza or something? I think I want to do that, and try on my new outfits."

"Whatever you say Melissa, it's your day. But I do want to sit down with you and talk about boys. You're becoming a woman and I think you need to hear about some things. Things my own Mom never told me."

I didn't think I would, but after talking to Bobby, now I wanted to hear what my Mom had to say. We went downstairs and sat together on the couch.

"So, you wanted to talk about the birds and the bees, Mom? It's not like I am going to ever have my period, so I don't need to hear about that, or about birth control."

"No, dear, but it won't be long before you have a vagina, and the care of a vagina isn't nearly as much fun as it's feeding."

"Mother!" I couldn't believe she said such a thing.

"Boys have penises."

"Um, yeah Mom I knew that. Or have you forgotten?"

"I was going to say, boys have penises. And they usually think with them. You've heard of the phrase, 'think with your big head, not your little one"?

"Yes. I've also seen graffiti in the boy's room, "Don't look now but you've got your best friend by the neck."

"Well that's very true. His cock is his best friend. And you should be his best friend's best friend. Find the right man, and be his whore. Have you heard the joke about how a girlfriend is like a condom, because she spends more time in his wallet then on his dick? Don't be that girlfriend, Melissa. Spend more time on his dick then in his wallet."

"You want me to be a slut? Just give it away to whoever?"

"No honey. Not a slut. Find a man who gives you orgasms that rock your world, and be his whore. You'll be so glad you did. I know I was when I met your Father."

"OMG, Mom! TMI. TMI, Mother, too much information!"

"Sorry dear but it's true. And I want you to be happy. For a man - for a real man's man, sex isn't just about his pleasure and yours. It's about the ego stroke of making a girl scream at the end of his cock. And you want a real man, a self-confident man like Bobby who sees what he likes and goes right for it, right? I want you to look at this."

She opened her laptop, and then opened a folder, and double clicked on a file. It was a GIF, a continuous loop, of a huge penis, standing alone, ejaculating.

My mouth fell open and my hand came up and covered it and I looked down, blushing.

"Look at it, Melissa. That is your birthright. It's every woman's birthright, a beautiful hard cock that gives her so much pleasure. Did you see how Bobby looked in his jeans? I think he has a cock almost as big as that one. Nine inches, at least."

"Mother, that's enough. I can't believe you're talking about Bobby like that. You're my Mom, for God's sake."

"I heard you say I'm also your best friend. Let me be your best friend and help you."

"Can you just close the screen, please?"

"Can't take your eyes off of it, can you? I know, it's a nice cock isn't it? It's a magnet for your eyes and catnip for your body and soul. "

I didn't answer but just reached out and closed the laptop myself.

"You're 18 years old Melissa, you've had this terrible problem growing up. But you must have thought about boys. At your age all I ever thought about was boys. You're lucky in a way, you could go in the boy's locker room, see your classmate's dicks. I had to steal my sister's Playgirls."

"Believe me, Mom, I learned a long time ago to keep my eyes straight ahead, or on the floor whenever I was in the locker room. I was always afraid someone would notice."

"Oh, so you did sneak peeks?"

I blushed again. "Yeah."

"Of course you did. I would have too."

She opened up the laptop again and started to type a URL. The browser auto-filled it and I saw 'annamalicesissyselfhypnosis' while the page loaded. A video started to auto-play - "Blowjob Rules for Sissies" it said.

"I'm not a sissy, Mother. Gay boys are sissies. I'm a girl."

"I know honey. I'm not one either. But this video has something to teach all women. Where it says 'Sissy', just think 'girl'."

The 'rules' started to appear, each one accompanied by illustrations - video and still photography.

"Anytime, anywhere" was the first. Girls should give their boyfriends head whenever and wherever they want it. There were scenes of girls under restaurant tables, and in bathroom stalls, in moving cars and in darkened alleys.

"Smile while you work" was another. Large erections and girls on their knees with big smiles were shown.

"Eye contact is a must" came next.

"Let him know how much you love his cock" was the fourth, and out of the speakers came soft girlish moans interspersed with dirty talk.

"Use your hands ... " appeared, and pretty hands tugged and stroked as they licked and sucked.

"... Unless he doesn't want you to use your hands" and arms were held above heads by strong men, and the women opened their mouths and moaned louder.

"Make love to his cock with your mouth" was next, and I stared as happy girls gave sensuous licks and kisses and long strokes up and down, smiling, giggling and moaning.

"Always let him finish in your mouth and on your face" scrolled across the screen, as one girl after another had her face and lips covered with ejaculate. Each one smiled and swallowed all she received.

The last rule appeared, "Play with his cum and be sure to clean him up" and the screen filled with images of girls, their faces glistening, gently licking and sucking and cleaning up their man's penis, squeezing out last drops, smiling and kissing his manhood.

When it was over, we were silent, until my Mom spoke. The video was on auto play and started again. This time I didn't try to shut the laptop screen.

"Is it really that much fun, Mother? I think a girl must feel really sexy when she does that."

"I'm so glad to hear you say that, Melissa. You see there are three types of women in the world. Well, four but the last one is pretty rare. The first are the ones who refuse to give head. We call these women frigid, repressed, or gay. And seriously deprived. And in all likelihood, very lonely.

"The second type give head, but not happily. They'll do it, but only as a reward for their man, or to get him hard so he can fuck her. Their blowjobs are actually practically hand-jobs. They go suck-suck, strokestroke -stroke-stroke-stroke. I imagine if they find a man who doesn't love to receive head, they can be happy together in their mutual deprivation."

The performers on the video were moaning loudly now as Mom continued.

"The third kind are girls like these, who are really getting off on the cock in their mouth. And do you know why, Melissa?"

She didn't wait for me to answer.

"Because when a girl like this has a cock inside her, it makes her feel soooo good. It doesn't matter where it is, only that it's inside her."

"What do you think is the best position?"

"Whatever position aligns his cock and your mouth."

"I'm serious, Mom. I think it's on your knees."

"Good answer. It's how me and your father like it."

"Mom, can we have this talk without bringing Daddy into it?"

I paused and then spoke again.

"Actually it makes me wonder. If I had been happy as a boy, what do you think Daddy would have said, if he was giving me this talk?"

Mother stood up, scratched between her legs, and said, "When a broad bends over, shove it in her ass! She can't get pregnant that way!" and she laughed. I wrinkled my nose.

"Don't knock it until you've tried it, Melissa."

"Ewww, mother! You mean you let Daddy put it in your butt?"

"I thought you didn't want to hear about your Father?" She didn't pause. "That's what I mean by being his whore, honey. And who knows, you may find you like it in your ass, too."

"I doubt it, Mother. P in V. That's the kind of girl I will be."

The video was coming to the end again, and I reached for the laptop. But I wasn't going to close it.

"Can I show you the kind of videos I like, Mother?"

"Oh, so you have seen porn before."

I didn't answer. I navigated to a porn search engine and typed in "X-Art" and clicked on the thumbnail video I recognized.

"I like these kinds of videos. They're soft and pretty and sensuous and have a lot of foreplay. They aren't as nasty as the ones you like."

We sat in silence as the scene unfolded. When the girl began to move down her man's torso and slipped off his boxers, I spoke.

"What is the fourth type of girl, Mother? You said there were four."

"The fourth type of girl, Melissa, can have an orgasm while sucking her man's cock.

"Without touching herself. Even without actually sucking his cock."


"The mind is an incredibly powerful sex organ, Melissa. Just last weekend I was talking to your Father ..."

"Mother! Please!"

"Oh grow up, Melissa. Your mother and father have sex. We used to have a lot of sex but then he went away, to help you. How about a little credit to me for going without for six months, and another six months to go. All for you, dear."

"Oh sorry, Mom," I said sarcastically. "I never knew how much Dad and his wonder cock meant to you."

"How did you know his pet name?" she asked, laughing.

"I hope you're being facetious," I replied.

Now the girl was kneeling on the bed, between his legs. Her hands were going in a twisting motion up and down the shaft. I spoke.

"Do boys like it that way, Mom?"

"Sounds like you're about to impart some inside information, Melissa."

"Well, I guess. You know though I've had a hate-hate relationship with this thing, right? It was only after my breasts began to develop that I started looking for videos like this one. It's easier to put yourself in the scene when you can caress your own breasts. It's not the same though."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because when a girl strokes her man, her hand goes away from her. Mine always comes down on myself. Anyway ... I think boys only stroke up and down. It feels best."

"OK, good tip. Thanks. And I thought I'd be the one giving advice."

The video continued, and soon the girl was having an orgasm, a powerful one, thrashing on the bed.

"Usually this is where I'd orgasm too. When the girl cums, that's when I would."

"Yup, you're a girl, Melissa."

"Speaking of orgasms, what about the way he finishes?"

"What about it?"

"I was reading an article on the website Jezebel. It said that modern porn treats women like dogs. That men cumming on girl's faces is degrading."

"Degrading how, Melissa? What did this feminist say about the practice?"

"She said it was like a male dog marking his territory when he pees. That the girl is being marked as a man's plaything."

"Well they got it right but they reached the wrong conclusion."

"What do you mean?"

"Well honey, yes the man is marking his territory when he sprays his cum all over his woman. But it's not degrading. If you love him, and love his cock, you should want to have your body marked by his cum."

Then she laughed.

"I just thought - what if guys had the same sense of smell as dogs do? We'd probably have less cheating going on, if guys knew which girls belonged to another man."

"Yeah," I agreed.

The man had climaxed, and the girl told him it tasted sweet.

"Does it really taste good, Mom?"

"That's a 'buying question'."

"Buying question?" I asked.

"Don't you remember that movie we watched a few weeks ago? About the stock brokers, with Ben Affleck doing a bad impersonation of Alec Baldwin? He said a question like "what's the name of the firm" is a buying question. The guy who asks that question is going down, he's bought what they're selling. And a girl asking the question you just asked is thinking about going down ... maybe on Bobby's cock?"

I sighed, exasperated. I didn't tell her I had been thinking about him while we watched the video.

"So? What does it taste like, mother?"

"Like the nectar of the gods, Melissa. I promise you'll love it."

Mother reached for the keyboard and typed in another search.

"Google Glass videos?" I asked. "You mean that eyeglass thing with the computer embedded? They've made porn from the woman's perspective?"


She launched the first video, and a tanned, thickly muscled male torso filled the screen. A girl's arms were down below, her hands at his waist. Then the screen was filled with his shaved chest. She was kissing and licking and exploring his pecs and his nipples, the camera coming in tight as she stimulated his nipples and kissed his chest, then moving back when she caressed him and lifted her head for some deep kissing.

Then her head turned, and he must have been kissing her neck and ear, as his lean body stretched out alongside hers, his erect cock pointing straight up, her fingers reaching, grasping the base, drawing her fingernails up the shaft before she began to stroke him.

"Is that the perspective you've been wanting, Melissa?"

"Yeah," I sighed, my eyes locked on the screen.

"Melissa, I'm going to make a suggestion. There are men. Men that can be hired ..."

"Mom, I told you I don't want to be with someone until I'm completely female. And I don't want it in my butt."

"I know honey and I get that. It's just that, boys your age, most girls have been giving them what they want for at least a few years. The girls have experience. And those girls are your competition. Don't you want a little experience first?"

The Google Glass camera moved up and down the shaft, which filled 80% of the screen. His chest stretched away from the shaft, and his eyes were staring thru the screen at me. Then the video changed and the camera began to move forward and back, forward and back, nothing but the bare skin of his lower abdomen going into and out of focus, the screen going nearly dark as the device practically touched his skin. I sighed, just as male and female moans came out of the speakers.

"But what about my penis, Mom? No gaffe or tape will hide it if I become aroused."

"I have that covered, Melissa. Watch your video, I'll be right back."

I heard Mom come down the stairs a few minutes later but I didn't look at her. My eyes were watching the screen, as the man rose above her and moved forward. His erection was swinging below him, pointing at her, pointing at me, moving toward her pussy until their flesh came together and she groaned loudly as he penetrated her smoothly and began to fuck her rhythmically.

"Oh my God your cock is so fucking big." I was mouthing the words as the woman said them.

Mom moved directly into my line of site, behind the laptop. My eyes stayed on the screen until she spoke.

"Meet The Transformer, Melissa."

I looked at her. She held up something that looked like a girdle, but one that had been rubberized and was flesh-toned.

"'The Transformer'? I asked.

"Designed specially for girls like you, Melissa, who have something to, um, hide? See, you wear it down low, and it starts with your natural booty, and expands it outward and moves it lower. It gives you a more womanly figure. Your penis goes inside, hidden away, and by moving your crotch down, it makes your legs look shorter, in order to create space for the life-like pussy between your legs."

She held the bottom out, so I could see the crotch.

"But no guy is going to be fooled by that," I said.

Mom replied, "No, honey, they aren't. But these are men for hire. They've seen everything. He won't bat an eye. And if he does, we'll kick him out and get you another."

"I don't know, Mom."

"You know your Dad, right before I finally convinced him to get the drugs to postpone your puberty, he said, "If he doesn't have a girl friend when he's 18, I'm going to get him a hooker." We can still do that, honey."

I looked back at the screen, the woman's moans growing louder and louder as the man's cock fucked her relentlessly, without pause, a blur between her legs. She began to orgasm then, thrashing below him until he pulled out, and with one stroke, then another, his cum started spurting, huge white streaks hurtling at the camera, at the woman, at me.

"OK. I'll do it. Call the service, Mom. I want some experience. I want to be ready, when I begin to date."

When Mom got off the phone, she said my date would be here at 8 PM, and that she had selected someone with dark hair and blue eyes, just like Bobby. It was 5:30 and I told her that we need to order the pizza so we can eat and I can have time to get ready. She agreed, and by 6:30 she was back, and I had quickly devoured two slices, so I could go upstairs and start to get ready.

I took a slow relaxing bath, and carefully shaved my legs and underarms. Then I returned to my Mother's vanity, where this crazy whirlwind of a birthday had started, only this time my Mother was standing by my side as I applied my own makeup.

I looked up at my Mother's face in the mirror. She was smiling when I had finished.


"I'm going to have to ask you for pointers, Melissa. Your eye makeup looks beautiful. And perfect for a romantic evening with Mr. Right."

"Or Mr. Right-Now" I corrected, and we both laughed.

Mom picked up The Transformer off the bed, and handed it to me. I stepped into the legs and began to pull it up.

"See the groove in the center, honey? Hold yourself up so it stays in place while I pull it up over your hips and butt."

I did as she said, and it wasn't long before it was on. But I frowned.

"What about this extra at the top? This looks ridiculous, Mom."

"They told me that this happens. You just cut away the part that bunches up at the top and it will look fine."

Mom got out a small pair of scissors and soon the excess was gone and the top of the device stretched taut and flat against my skin.

I stepped in front of the mirror, and grinned.

"So this is how I will look after surgery."

"Well something like that, Melissa. Your legs will be just as long after, though. You should move around, I'm sure that like tight jeans it will loosen up a bit. And they said that your body heat will make it warm up so it will feel even more like normal flesh."

I began to move, to bend and stretch, and it didn't feel confining, it felt like a second skin. Finally I lay down on the bed and asked my Mother to hand me her hand mirror.

"I want to see what it looks like."

I lay on the bed, with my knees up, and looked down my body, my small pert breasts flattened slightly against my chest, my flat tummy, down to The Transformer, which had a closely trimmed mound of pubic hair at the top. I reached forward to hold the mirror between my legs. My other hand reached down and touched the bare skin, and then the rubberized labia and folds of skin. It was soft and pliant and like Mom said, it felt warm to the touch.

"What do you think?" Mom asked.

"Can I wear this all the time?" I laughed, and then I stopped, and my brow furrowed.

"But what am I going to wear now? I don't think my panties will fit over this bigger butt its given me."

"You can try mine. Why don't you try that black baby doll nightie we bought, and I've got black panties to match."

I went into my bedroom, and slipped the nightie over my head. It felt so soft and sexy against my skin. Back in Mom's room, she handed me her panties and she was right. They slid right over my new hips and butt.

"You look beautiful, Melissa. I can't believe my daughter, who until today I had to treat as my son, is so pretty and sexy and smiling and happy and .... horny? Are you ready to give yourself to a man?"

"I don't know, Mom. I feel ... nervous. And ... vulnerable? I feel like, very soon, I am going to lose control. Not lose control in a crazy sexy horny way but lose control because a man is going to take it. Take control. And that's exciting but scary too."

"Oh honey, I know exactly what you mean. Promise me you'll find a man who always gives you that feeling. The kind of man who doesn't ask if you want to do it doggie-style but the kind who turns you around, puts his hand on the back of your head until your head is down and your ass is up and then he starts fucking you again until you start screaming at the end of his cock and your pussy is spasming around it but it's not enough, it's never enough for a man like that, and he pulls out and turns you over and shoves his cock back inside and your eyes roll up into your head and then you hardly notice it but his arms go under your knees and your arms are around his neck and suddenly you're suspended on his cock and it's like you're in a sex swing only it's his muscles holding you in the air swinging your hips back and forth while his cock plows in and out and then finally, when he's finally finished, and the orgasm count is like, five for you and still none for him, he doesn't ask if he can spray his cum all over your face, he lays you down, and finally gives up his sweet nectar, all over you, marking you for life as his woman. No one else. His."

"Wow," I said. "Do you really think this guy can do all that?"

"Only one way to find out," she said.

It was 7:55. My date was due at any moment. We went downstairs together and sat on the couch, waiting silently until finally a few minutes after 8, the doorbell rang. Mom got up and answered the door.

"Melissa? I'm Stephen St. Croix."

"Hi Stephen, I'm not Melissa, I'm Liz, her Mom. Please come in. Melissa ...?"

I got up from the couch and turned toward the door, where I saw a young man, perhaps 25 or so. He had skin the color of very light coffee, and he had straight black hair and pale blue eyes. He was gorgeous! He wore a sport shirt and khaki chinos. I could see how muscular his physique was and I smiled at him.

"Hi Melissa." His voice carried a lilting trace of what must have been some Caribbean island heritage. It was very mellifluous and sexy.

"It's nice to meet you, Stephen." He took my hand gently and raised it to his lips, making me smile again.

"I have to say, Melissa, I don't usually get out-calls from such a young, pretty girl as you. I assumed Liz was the one who needed my services. You know, lonely single Mom. Why would a pretty young girl like you need an escort?"

"Well since you asked, Stephen, it's Melissa's 18th birthday and ..."

"I've had some long-term medical issues that had to be resolved and I wanted ..."

"She wanted to have a memorable experience on her 18th birthday. Think you can handle that, Stephen?"

"Absolutely, Liz. I'll make sure Melissa is fully satisfied. Now is this a 2 for 1 deal? Will you join us, maybe give Melissa some pointers?"

"No Stephen this is just for Melissa." Her hand was on Stephen's lower back and she pushed him gently into the living room. "I may watch though."

"You want to watch Mother?"

"Just to give any suggestions, Melissa. I promise I won't be too disruptive."

"Can't we use your bedroom?"

"No, there's plenty of room on the couch. I'll just go up to the landing, you won't even see me."

Mother dimmed the living room lights - "Not too much, Mother," I had to caution. Then she turned the stereo on and soft midnight saxophone started emanating from the speakers, a pretty, sexy sound.

"Would you like to dance, Melissa?"

I held out my hand, and Stephen took it, pulling me toward him, until my hand was on his chest, and his palm covered it. We swayed slowly, together, his right hand holding me around the waist. I felt so secure and happy, held tightly by this sexy man. Suddenly, he shifted his weight forward, and I felt my back arch backward against his strong hand, until he pulled me back upright and I came face to face with his pretty blue eyes.

"You're very beautiful, Melissa, and I'm honored that you are allowing me to be your first."

I leaned forward then, wanting to kiss him, his lips moving toward mine, when I suddenly thought, how does a girl kiss a boy? His lips met mine, and I knew instantly. I kissed him playfully, teasingly, my lips grazing his, taking a tiny bit of their fleshy fullness and pulling my own past them, then meeting them again, my lips parted this time, his tongue slipping out to enter my mouth, my own tongue dueling with his. My hands were in his hair, running my fingers thru them, as our lips and tongues blended together.

His hands rose toward my shoulders, pulling the robe as my own hands were untying it. The robe slipped to the floor and I leaned into him again, as his hands reached down and cupped by butt cheeks. I could barely feel them thru the rubber, and I froze, wondering what he was thinking.

But Mom was right, and whatever he felt or suspected or knew, he kept massaging my ass as he whispered into my ear.

"Very nice, Melissa."

I pressed my lips into his now, and started pawing at the bottom of his shirt, lifting it, pushing it upward until his hands came up and pulled it over his head. His broad chest was bare in front of me and I began to explore it, kissing down from his neck, squeezing his chest muscles as I kissed his lips again, then I began to kiss steadily down his torso, until I was squatting at his waist, undoing his belt.

His hand cupped my face, and I turned and kissed his palm. Then he slipped his thumb inside my mouth, and I held it softly, my lips sliding forward and back, until I had unbuttoned his pants and pulled his trousers down to the floor.

He slipped his thumb out of my mouth and I looked at the growing bulge in his white boxers, then up into his eyes. He was smiling and I smiled back, then planted a soft kiss at the head of his penis and down below, one on each testicle. There were three ruby red splotches on his boxers when I pulled them down, and his cock was freed.

Shaved smooth and circumcised, his cock was beautiful. It wasn't crazy huge like like the ones we watched earlier, and I was thankful, because I didn't know if The Transformer would handle something too big. It was perfect, and I started at the tip, kissing and playfully licking my way up to the base, where I kissed him just to the right of the shaft, then I dipped below to envelop his balls with the flat part of my tongue, swishing around each of them. I kept my eyes on his throughout, as I realized I had in fact been right about the best position.

I licked my way back to the head, then slipped his full flaccid length inside. The texture was soft and spongy, but as I sucked sweetly along the length it wasn't long before I felt his cock get thicker and harder, until I released him, looked up into his eyes, then stared in awe at his erect penis for one long moment.

Then I gripped the base and held it steady, and opened my mouth and slipped the head inside, sliding my lips an inch or two down the shaft. Now there was weight to it, and warmth, and the taste was heavenly. It filled my senses and made me feel that I was a part of this man, his penis inside me, so intimately connected to him.

I slipped him out of my mouth, and began to stroke him, spreading the saliva down the shaft. I smiled at him, bouncing on my knees, so pleased with myself.

"Your cock is very nice, Stephen. It tastes delicious."

"You are so sexy, Melissa," he replied, and I smiled before I lovingly welcomed him back inside my mouth. I began to suck urgently at the satiny smoothness of the head, then moved further down the shaft, a different kind of textured smoothness, so hard against my soft lips. When I parted my lips and fluttered my tongue against the bottom of the shaft he moaned loudly, and I did too, a sweet sexy purr of contentment.

I released him again, this time so that I could lift the shaft out of the way, and stroke him with both hands while I licked and cradled his balls again. He groaned louder at this, and when I slipped the head back inside my mouth, his hand cupped my head again, and pulled me forward and I loved it, the way he took charge of me, and I tried to take more of him and he was moaning again and then his moan was something different, and I slipped him out of my mouth.

Saliva stretched from the head to my lower lip, and I pulled at it until it separated and I could stretch it down the shaft and stroke him again.

"Am I doing something wrong?"

"No, it's just ... um ... just watch the teeth."

"Lips together, teeth apart, Melissa," I heard my Mother's voice say from the landing. I'd forgotten she was there.

"Oh!" I cried, and my hand came up to my mouth. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

I kissed the head and told it I was sorry. I apologized to each of his balls in turn, then peppered the shaft with kisses and more apologies.

"Can I try again?" I asked and Stephen nodded.

"I have to remind myself that this is your first time. Your mouth feels really good."

I smiled at him and tenderly took him back inside my mouth, making sure my teeth were as wide apart as possible. I took more and more of him, slowly and steadily and our moans filled the room. I felt him against the back of my throat, and spontaneously it must have opened because suddenly my lips were nestled at the bottom of his shaft, and his moan turned into a drawn out groan of pleasure.

My lips slid back up the shaft and released him and my Mother spoke again.

"Are you sure you've never done this before Melissa?"

"No," I said. "I'm not even sure how I did that."

I engulfed him again, slowly, steadily sinking further down the shaft, but this time I gagged, and I released him, coughing.

Stephen beamed at me and said "I don't think I can take much more of that." And he reached down and slipped his arms around my shoulders and under my knees, lifting me up effortlessly into the air, so strongly that I actually lifted out of his arms, then fell back into them. He walked me toward the couch and I kissed him passionately, before he lay me gently on the cushions. His hands lifted my nightie over my head, and when his hands reached for my panties, I put my own hands over his and stopped him.

"There's something I should tell you, Stephen."

"There's nothing you need to say. Everything is fine, and I'm going to make love to you."

My hands were around his cheeks as he spoke, and I trusted him and believed him and after I pressed my lips against his, I lay back down as he pulled the panties off of me.

He moved forward then, hovering over me, and I reached for him, until our lips met, melted together, reformed and melted together again. He broke off our kiss and moved to my neck, and around my ears and down to my shoulders and chest, until I felt his strong tongue flicking against my left nipple, while his thumb and forefinger stimulated the other one. I moaned softly and he looked up at me, kissing me again before enveloping each breast in his mouth, sucking and kissing and flicking his tongue against the soft flesh.

Finally his lips and tongue drifted lower, and lower until I saw him kiss just above the ridge of my pubic hair. Then he moved to the side, kissing down my thighs before working back up the inner thigh. When he reached my labia, his eyes locked onto mine, betraying nothing, and then my eyes closed and I gave in to the moment, and began to imagine that I had a real vagina and that he was tenderly exploring it's folds and crevices, its secrets and its secretions. And even though I felt nothing, I began to grind against him, and I raised my head to watch him, one hand's fingers running thru his hair, the other entwined with his, squeezing strongly against him.

My head sank back into the couch, and a long moan escaped my lips. That was when it happened.

It started with a fluttering, a strange and foreign sensation starting below my tummy, a tremble that turned into a vibration and suddenly my moans were rising into cries and it was like a wave had crashed over me, a release so powerful it shook me to my core.

Did I have an orgasm inside The Transformer? It felt like nothing I'd experienced as a boy, and the rubber was so taut against me I couldn't imagine how I could feel any stimulation. No, this was different.

I opened my eyes and saw Stephen, his head hovering between my legs, and I watched him go forward, and somehow, somehow I felt - I felt him take one final long lick and I felt it, felt the tip of his tongue against me, and it made no sense, and I rose up from the waist, and my hands went around his cheeks, and his cheeks, his cheeks were wet and I looked into his eyes uncomprehendingly and I kissed him and his lips tasted different and my mind was going in circles and then ...

And then I felt his cock pressing into me, and I felt my pussy open to him, and his cock pushed inside me, I felt the thick hardness inside me, every beautiful, perfect, powerful inch of his cock. I screamed.

"Oh my God your cock is so fucking big!"

And then he started to move in and out of me, and it felt so good, so fucking good, and I was rocking into his thrusts, and then he rose above me and drove himself into me and I stared as I watched his cock take over my body and soon I was screaming again, bucking wildly against him, an even bigger climax scrambling my mind and vision.

He was stretched out alongside me on the couch when I caught my breath, his magnificent cock still rising straight up, and I slipped him back into my mouth to suck him. His cock had a new taste, a mixture of male and female. I felt his hand on the back of my head and I surrendered to his desire as he pulled down and thrust up, holding still as he fucked my mouth.

When his hand fell to his side, I straddled him, glancing up at the landing as I did. My mother's arms were crossed over her chest, and one hand covered her mouth, which hung open. Then his cock slid back inside me, and my eyes shut tight again.

We alternated, first I leaned forward to give him room to pound himself in and out of me, then he lay still and I bounced up and down his shaft, my pace quick. Then I sank to the bottom, and rocked back and forth, stimulating my clit as his cock was buried to the brim.

Finally he lifted my ankle and I slipped off of him, keeping my position on the couch so he could move behind me and fuck me from the rear. But he didn't. He pressed inside of me and paused, and I began to move my ass back until his cock was buried deep inside of me then moved forward and back, forward and back so urgently that he slipped out of me. He held his erection against my soft flesh until I backed onto it and began again to fuck him, moving carefully until I found the perfect correlation of distance and length, taking his cock from the tip to the root over and over again until he moaned loudly and one hand went to the back of my head, pressing it down, as other came down with a loud wallop on my ass.

I stopped then, and turned my head into the cushion and smiled as he took control, fucking me at a pace and depth of his choosing, and when his finger pressed into my asshole, my last thought before another orgasm coursed thru me was that yes, I would find the right man and I would let him take my ass, because he should have me, any time, any where and any way he desires, because I would be his whore.

Those thoughts slipped away as Stephen kept going, mercilessly pounding in and out of me, relentlessly, insatiably. In a blur, I was on my back again, and he was back inside, my senses alive to nothing but his cock, his sweet precious cock. My hands fell against his thighs, and he held my wrists, crossing my arms over my tummy so that he could hold them down with one hand, totally controlling me, having absolute dominion over me.

I started to speak then, a whisper first, then rising to a shout.

"Please cum in my face," I kept repeating. "I want to taste your sweet cum."

Stephen thrust one last time inside me, then pulled out and leaned forward, and his cock started spraying a fountain of cum, long white streaks marking me from my lips and cheeks to my shoulders and down to my tummy. I slipped what had fallen on my face in to my mouth, and, delighting at the flavor, ran a finger thru the long streaks on my chest so I could taste more of his nectar. Then I remembered to take his precious cock into my mouth again, to clean it and play with it and to thank it.

Finally we both sank into the couch, which was wet from a combination of bodily fluids.

"What happened?" I sputtered.

My Mother spoke first.

"She told me what would happen and I didn't really believe her and then I watched and ..."

Stephen's island accent thickened.

"If she really s'posed to be a girl, the first ti' she com' as a woman, she become a woman."

My hands reached down and I touched myself. I was restored. I was a girl, a real girl. And now, a woman.

My Mother spoke again. "I didn't tell you where I got that thing, Melissa. I went back to the psychic, the one who told me that I would have a girl child but that there would be complications. She told me that if you wore it and you had an orgasm even though you couldn't feel anything, it was proof that you were meant to be a girl, and you would become one."

Then Stephen spoke.

"I've watched it happen so many times, Melissa, but I've never seen it happen like it did with you. You're going to make some lucky guy very, very happy some day."

"So you ... the psychic is your Mom, and she just sends you out to service girls who were raised as boys. To fix things. Oh my gosh. That's why you knew all along."

My mother had come back down the stairs and she noticed it first.

"Oh my gosh Melissa I think you're spotting."

I moved aside and saw a few bright red spots on the white cushions.

"You mean?"

"Yup. We're going to have to have that mother-daughter talk about the care of a vagina, too."

My eyes teared up as my phone which I had left on the kitchen table started buzzing, from a text message. It was from Bobby, asking if I was going to come to his party. I realized that instead of putting his number into my phone, he had called his own phone so he'd have my number. I texted him back, asking for his address. Then I came back to the couch.

"You don't mind a little blood, do you?"

Stephen shook his head, and I pulled on his hand. He rose from the couch, and once again lifted me by my shoulders and knees as I laughed and kissed his neck.

"Mother, we're going up to my bedroom. Good night!"


Bobby's moans filled my ears, and when I sensed he was close, I slid my lips all the way down the shaft, gave the base two soft licks, and immediately his cock began to jerk and twitch as cum pulsed out of it. We moaned loudly together, as I heard the sharp crack of his knuckles striking the roof of his car, as his back arched in the seat.

I held him in my mouth as his cock slowly softened. Even when flaccid it overflowed from my mouth. I don't know how my Mother could tell, but it had turned out that Bobby did have a huge cock, nine inches easily. It was six months since I first laid eyes on it.

When I finally let him go, I slipped the shaft back into his fly. Just as he liked it, there wasn't even a hint of moisture on the material of his jeans. My panties, however, were soaked.

Bobby looked at the clock and cursed. "Oh shit, your Dad's plane must be on the ground by now."

We locked up the car and went back into the terminal, my hand reaching for Bobby's and playfully swinging it as we walked toward the baggage claim area. He pulled my hand down, and pulled me tight into him and kissed me. I kissed him briefly, and then pulled away.

"I have to use the ladies room." I said as I stepped away from him.

"I can't believe I am seeing my father for the first time in a year, and I am going commando." I whispered when I returned.

"And I still can't believe how you can get off just from sucking my cock and never touch yourself." He whispered back.

"I can't help it if your cock does that to me, babe."

"Never seen it before."

"Well I am not the only one. I know for a fact that a member of the wedding party, same thing."

"Wait - what? Who?"

"I'll never tell," I said teasingly.

"Well then I'll have to do some investigating. Is it that really hot bridesmaid Jenny?"

I stopped and pulled him close and kissed him and told him he'd do no such thing. He laughed, and then he turned serious.

"I'm still a little nervous meeting your Dad. I'm sure he didn't expect to spend a year in the Alaskan wilderness and come home to find out his daughter is planning her wedding."

"Well a lot of things can change in a year's time, Bobby. A lot of things."

"Yeah, like the way your figure has filled out. You really are a late bloomer, Melissa. I do kind of miss that optical illusion dress you used to wear."

I gave him a little hip sway and asked, "you think I need an optical illusion dress? Melissa's got it goin' on!" punctuated with a sassy finger snap.

"She certainly does," Bobby said as he leaned forward to kiss me again, but my eyes had traveled down toward the escalators and I exclaimed, "Oh my God, there he is. I can't believe how skinny he is!"

I broke free from Bobby and ran toward my father, waving. When I reached him, I jumped toward him, wrapping my arms around his neck and my hips around his waist. My father held me for a moment before setting me down again.

"Hi Daddy, I missed you so much."

"I've missed you too Melissa."

Bobby came up behind me and held out his hand.

"Mr. Huntington, I'm Bobby Wheeler. It's a pleasure to meet you sir."

"It's nice to finally meet you, Bobby. I've heard a lot about you. You going to make my daughter happy for the rest of her life?"

"I'll try my best, sir. She's an amazing girl."

I looked up at my Father as he spoke, his eyes turned toward me. They were sweet and soft.

"She sure is," he said. "She sure is."

I kissed him on the cheek and whispered in his ear.

"I love you, Daddy."

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