She is my dream girl. Of course I would do anything for her.
My new girlfriend has only dated girls before. I’m the first boyfriend she’s ever had. And we’ve been together for months with nothing happening which I’m fine with. I know this takes time. I can wait.
But waiting can be such agony. Every time I see her, every time I’m around her, I need her with all of myself.
I would do anything for her to ask me into her bed, so when she set down her rules I jumped at the chance. Not knowing what it would give to her. Not knowing what it would take from me.
My girlfriend has a secret. My girlfriend keeps it safe. She dresses me up into a girl that she can bear to touch and each brush of her skin against mine strips away a bit of my masculinity.
Inch by inch she changes me, she transforms me. Bit by bit she makes me someone new.
Someone soft. Someone surprising. Someone feminine.
A woman she can love.
Excerpt
“One night with me will change you forever, in ways I don’t think you’re prepared for.”
It was, on the face of it, a ridiculously cocky thing to say. But something about the way she said it made everything different for me. It rang so true that I knew it wasn’t a lie and it wasn’t a statement borne of anything but experience.
I didn’t know why or how, but I believed her. And I knew that was an experience I would never be able to say no to.
And in the moment I am aching for that change. Three months of teasing. Our first kiss even only tonight and our first night together so very different from what I imagined.
I’m the type of guy who usually likes to disarm situations with humor and it’s always served me well. Sure tonight was a night unlike any I’d ever experienced before, but maybe humor would still serve its purpose.
“I don’t think I’m likely to forget this,” I said bluntly, a little grin lighting on my lips as I gestured to the clothes I was wearing, “Because I’ve never done anything quite like this
before.”
She looks down. She looks down at me. She takes me in from top to bottom like she did when I walked out of the bathroom wearing the outfit she’d set aside for me and she nods, like she did then. She nods like she approves.
“You look good in that,” she says, “Almost better than I do.”
Stockings. Panties. Garter belt. Bra. I’m wearing all of that. Everything that she has I have on, all except the choker.
“None of it fits me nearly as well as it does you,” I say.
But she shakes her head, “It fits you better than you think.”