Private Self

A thank you again to my reliable and trusted editor, who wishes to remain anonymous. Also, thank you to all the readers who have sent me encouragement to keep writing. If you leave a comment, I will let you know when next chapters are available! (For me to contact you, I must know your Lit username, and you must opt to receive PMs)

I hope that you enjoy this chapter!

- Lusty.

*****

It has been over a week since the encounter with Ryan. Ryan got a lift to his bartending job from Rhys in the end and I haven't seen him since. I have had too much time to visualise his long lean limbs and smooth chest - hairless! I need not wonder anymore! I am aching to run my hand through his head of shiny dark hair and to see all the bits I didn't get to see. I have a reverse Pocahontas fantasy, where Ryan is the strong, young Cree dressed in rawhide from the waist down. He must protect the wild land from the arrogant, yet brave, white lady explorer...well, it doesn't really work when I say it out loud because I'm Chinese. However, it's MY fantasy so I can be a white Colonialist if I choose.

I haven't tried to contact Ryan. Like a fly to a web, I'll let him come to me, and then I'll pounce. That setup would be much more exciting. Just in case the opportunity arises, I've been trolling online sex shops for specialty items and devising some possible scenarios. My perverted mind distracted me at work this week. I work in a government service department and every man I meet, whether it be a client or co-worker, I wonder if he secretly has a fetish or if he is generally as sex-crazed as I am.

I can feel my depravity growing. In my constant state of restlessness, I have no choice but to do something to relieve it. I have this evening free to myself, so I thought I would smoke a joint and masturbate. Or quilt. Really, no joke, I'm a nymphomaniac that quilts in her spare time. Go figure. I call at 6.30pm with my monthly weed order. I am even turned on by the husky, friendly voice of a woman on the other end of the line. I have a vision of a cute, petite, butch-y woman. I giggle at the thought.

After I run to the bank for money to pay the weed delivery driver, I have a bite to eat. My phone rings at about 8pm. It's standard for the driver to call from a blocked number before they arrive at the door. It's the same voice! She says, "Hey, this is the delivery driver. I'm about 10 to 15 minutes away."

"Great."

"Please leave your outside light on."

"Right," I say, "See you soon."

Mmm. That voice does sound sexy. What if she loved my voice, too? Do I dare try to seduce her? Well, I could at least flirt and see what happens. Then, I wonder if the voice didn't belong to a woman, but to a young man...maybe 18 or 19? I start to conjure up images of the mystery woman or man. The thought of relieving my horniness with either a cute dyke or virginal young man makes me wet.

Still holding my phone, I bolt up the stairs to my bedroom and tear off my two-piece flannel pyjamas with the polar bears on them. I grab a soft T-shirt, which I throw on over my boy short panties. When I look in my full-length mirror, my small high breasts highlight nipples that stick straight out in an obvious way. Perfect. I run a brush through my hair. Wait, are my bare legs too lewd? In order to appear nonchalantly sexy, I grab a pair of shorts. They are sporty 70's style, green and tight fitting but casual enough to look like it's a piece of clothing that I just wear around the house. When I look in the mirror again, I am pleased at what I see. I think I could be considered a MILF. I'm 43 but I am mistaken for a woman in her 20's quite regularly. I am secretly proud of that fact.

After hastily applying liquid eyeliner and lip gloss, I hear an interesting knock at my front door. There are 2 knocks, a pause, then 4 short raps. As I pad down the stairs, a moving image comes unbidden to my mind. I see myself passionately kissing a petite blond with a man's haircut against my front door. Then I see images of me on my cushiony navy couch, with one leg draped over the arm and both my legs spread wide apart. I see the tomboy's blond head between my legs, her tongue licking thirstily. I am aware that I am more wet than before.

"Is that your secret knock?' I say, flirting immediately as I open the door. Standing on my small porch is a large woman with full makeup on her face, wearing a heavy jacket and leggings. She looks like a hockey mum. I am disappointed.

"Yeah, I never know if there's kids in the house, or if I should knock really softly so I don't disturb them", she says in her husky, friendly voice. She's a bit younger than me, and she seems likeable.

Bashfully, I say, "I have the house to myself tonight."

"Ah, I see! Well, here's your package.", the delivery lady says in a congenial way.

"Party of one tonight!" I say, joking. She laughs genuinely and says goodbye as she walks away from the door to her running car outside. After I close the door and turn around, I laugh softly to myself at my crazy insatiable sexual appetite. Recently, I was turned on by a short piece of pornography where a service man comes to fix a housewife's oven and they have sex all over the kitchen. This was the closest I'd come to living out that scenario. If the delivery lady had been my butch-y dream girl, I probably would've tried to at least get her phone number. As I roll a joint and go to smoke it outside, I create more details of my imaginary woman. I am already feeling floaty by the time I return inside. It's no question for me now whether I am going to masturbate or quilt. Masturbate, of course.

I head upstairs to my waiting bed. I summon my fictional girl lover but instead, in my mind's eye, I see Lisa.

//

Lisa was introduced to me through a friend from college. Over several nights out with our group of friends, I'd learned that Lisa played bass guitar and she was studying music at the time. One night, we found ourselves alone on a corner laughing, when I got up the nerve to ask if she'd like to go out for a coffee. Since the time when I had last seen her, I had been thinking about how I was going to ask her out. I loved how she ducked her head with a shy smile when she spoke, causing her cropped blond hair to fall over an eye. She always wore baggy jeans and a baggy T-shirt; I never saw her wear anything close to a dress or skirt. She wore Doc Martens. If I was going to have a clothes fetish, it would probably be black Doc Martens. Lisa said yes to a date.

But nothing came of it. I learned shortly after that Lisa had started seeing someone, so we didn't go for that coffee. A couple years later, we reconnected through the same college friend. Well actually, my friend set us up on a sex date. Come to think of it, that is the first and only time any of my friends has set me up on a sex date. Now THAT'S a good friend. I can't imagine any of the ladies from my quilting group would do me that favour, and certainly not the other school mums.

We ended up at my apartment making out on the futon couch. Lisa was a good kisser. She had nice full lips, but they were chapped a little. We were sitting on the couch, facing each other with our knees touching. We both pulled her baggy T-shirt over her head, and I took off my tight one. As we removed our own bras, our tongues started snaking into one another's mouths, and I could feel that we were both getting more turned on. Soon, we were completely naked, and I explored her body first. We were tentative at first, neither of us directing with words. Checking in with each other with eye contact, we moved slowly and carefully. I kneeled above her between her legs and felt a pull in my groin, because she looked so lovely and curvy under those baggy clothes. Her skin was milky white. Her nipples were so much pinker than my brownish ones. Lisa had nice breasts, not too big. As she reclined below me, her breasts lay alluringly across her chest, with her arms flung to either side.

"You're so beautiful." I found myself saying and meaning it. Lisa ducked her head in shyness in that Lisa way. She watched me with a slight smile as I started with lightly kissing the inside of her knee. I took my sweet time to work my way up the inside of her thigh with my lips, not in a line, but randomly. I floated over her untouched pussy to tease her and to save the best for last. I brushed the soft curly strawberry blond hair with my lips and my hot breath. I moved up to her navel and around her soft stomach.

I kissed her breasts, opening my mouth and swirling my tongue on their soft yet firm surface. Her back arched and she moaned sweetly. I kissed her shoulders and her neck, lightly biting below her ear. I reversed and made my way slowly down her torso and I could feel her anticipation. She lay in wait, presenting herself to me. I was mesmerised and had to taste her. Her cunt - I like that word, but rarely have I said it out loud - was truly beautiful; a baby pink colour on her inner folds fanning out delicately like an exotic flower. The soft velvety outer labia were the same milky white as her stomach. I started with light feathery kisses as she wriggled underneath me. I raised her one leg to the top of the couch for better access. I put my tongue at the lowest point of her folds and ran the tip of my tongue excruciatingly slow in one line up to her clitoris. She had an earthy, sweet and salty taste all mixed together. I continued to explore every soft part, licking and flicking my tongue, and then concentrating on her clitoris. Lisa gave small sighs and mews of contentment.

Before I could discover how to give her an orgasm, Lisa sat up and drew me up her body to her lips. Kissing her deeply was carnal and exquisite as the taste of her mingled in our mouths and on our tongues. As I pressed firmly against her body, which was so wonderfully soft and feminine, we both began to move our bodies by undulating our hips. Our movements gradually became more frenzied as our hands swept to caress any body part we could reach. Lisa's hand reached to my wet pussy and I glanced down to watch her hand stroke me with intent, compelling me to moan as I became more aroused. Still working me with her hand, somehow Lisa sat up to press me backward and lie down. Now it was me with open legs, and Lisa between them. My left leg hung over the edge of the couch, and she swung her right leg over me so that her foot was on the floor. Half standing and half kneeling over me, she laid her pussy over mine. Our warm, wet, slippery cunts joined together, and Lisa began to grind herself into me from above. She raised my right leg over her shoulder as our hips bucked and circled and slid against one another. The hard pressure felt just right, and I felt an immediacy rising in me. I loved watching her take pleasure until she came and collapsed on top of me. I wrapped my arms around her back and held her.

//

20 years later, Lisa's name has been changed to Kieran. We are still in touch on social media. When he came out as transgender, I thought it made perfect sense. Although he didn't know it back then, he's known for a long time that he's a man inside the wrong body. He has lived as a male for many years and has begun transitioning his body. If Kieran asked me, I would sleep with him again. I think he's hot, just as Lisa was hot.

I'm feeling tired now. Even so, remembering Lisa really turned me on and I'm squishy wet. I am going to masturbate in the way I have masturbated since I can remember. This method I commonly use just before I fall asleep, as it grants me a gentle orgasm in a very short amount of time. I turn onto my stomach with my panties on because my hands slide too much on my bare slippery pussy. I place both hands, right over left, to cup my pussy. I make sure my fingers are situated to place the most force to my clit area. Using the weight of my hips I rock my clit up and down on my groping fingers and the hard part of my palm. Rocking slightly at first, but gradually becoming forceful and urgent. It's so easy and lazy to come this way. I think of Lisa in a woman's body. I think of Kieran in the body he has now. Just when I'm about to submit to a flood of sweet release, I imagine Ryan fucking me in abandon.