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An Afternoon with Marcy by Louis Friend

I love the look of an attractive man in drag. The look of a masculine body depilated and dressed up in frilly things really gets my blood boiling. Unfortunately, these men are usually emotional wrecks. They carry as much emotional baggage with them as sexy negligees, teddies, and panties. That’s one reason why I try to keep in contact with and know as many of these folks as I can, hoping that the stars align with one or another every few weeks to allow a meeting and a few hours of fun before that window closes again.

It was one early winter Saturday afternoon when an opportunity presented itself. I was putting in some overtime at my office, occasionally opening my Instant Message window to see who else was online while I toiled.

“SexyMarcy33” popped on and I opened up a window to talk to “her”. We shot the shit for a while, catching up about things that had gone on over the fall and summer. She told me that her girlfriend was out for the afternoon and what she had put on in her girlfriend’s absence, celebrating a few hours of freedom by going “en femme” for a bit.

As always, I asked if she was ready to put her money where her mouth was and invite me over so I could see firsthand what she was wearing. And then she surprised the hell out of me, “Sure I don’t C Y not,” came her response.

I had to suss out if she was serious but her providing directions to her apartment sealed the deal. I told her I’d be over in a half hour and signed out before she could protest or change her mind.

Marcy opened the door, being sure to not let herself be seen by anyone outside, including me. When my eyes adjusted to the dim of her apartment, I saw a lovely red head, all dolled up in a yellow sun dress with a chunky necklace, earrings, and too-tall heels. Her shoes and short dress helped show off her long, lovely legs.

Like too many of my favorite girls, she wore too much make-up but I knew that it was only a crutch to make her feel even more feminine. What would help her, there, too, was if I treated her like a lady. I stepped forward, putting an arm around her and pulling her into me, kissing her gently at first until she returned my kisses more passionately. I snaked my tongue into her mouth and allowed her to feel the bulge in my pants against her leg. This opened her mouth up more as she tilted her head back and groaned.

After this display of arousal and power, I pushed away from her slightly and entered her apartment more, looking around to see what kind of man she was and what kind of woman her girlfriend could be.

The apartment was quaint and I had Marcy make me a drink while I sat on her couch, checking out the lay of the land.

As she handed me my drink, I patted the cushion next to me, indicating that she should sit there. She seemed rather nervous, and that was fine. I liked her being off balance a little bit and hoped the alcohol would help the situation. Too many times I’d been with a girl like Marcy who would go only so far before getting scared of her own desires and backing out, graciously or not. I was here to get some action, not to hold her hand through some kind of touchy-feelie self-knowledge gathering. I made her painfully aware of this by sitting back, undoing my belt, button, and zipper before fishing my hard cock out of my pants and putting her hand on it.

She took a slug from her drink and then did an extra gulp as she looked down at her hand wrapped around me, surprised, almost as if it were someone else’s. The crimson nail polish at the ends of her fingers looked particularly lurid compared to her pale skin and the dark, veined surface of my sex.

She looked up to me and licked her lips. She had a question in her eyes and I nodded my assent. She got down onto the floor and I spread my knees for her. She propped her elbows on my thighs and took me hungrily into her mouth. It was obvious that she hadn’t had much experience sucking cock and I was more than willing to help teach her what she needed to know.

“Hon, take me out of your mouth. Now, put your fingers around the base of my cock,” I offered. “Good girl. Now, lick me. Lick along the vein that runs up the underside of my cock. Stroke me while you do that.”

I stroked her hair, wondering briefly how she wore it when she was “en drab”. I drove this thought out of my head, wanting to enjoy her fully as the girl she was being for me. “Good, now take me into your mouth again, slower, this time.”

She was more deliberate this time, thinking of how things must feel for me, rather than how she was enjoying the sensation of a cock in her mouth. I could feel her tongue butterflying around the head before snaking it down and around me. She took me deeply, choking herself a bit.

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