It wasn't like me at all, I am naturally very shy, but something inside me burned to explore this ongoing fantasy. The need was tangible, I dreamed day and night of being dressed as a girl, giving myself willingly to a man, thrilling to the feel of him touching me, possessing me, filling me. I awoke at night to the clear feeling of my imaginary lover's cock slipping into my ass, the sensation so realistic that I woke myself with the movement as I pushed back to try to meet him. This night was the fourth in a row, but that was little in comparison to the three years I had been harboring these feelings. Three years, over which time the fantasies had spread out over a myriad of sexual areas then grown and taken shape entirely focused on the centre of my desire, the need to be dressed up and give myself up entirely to a strong sexy man. I felt a huge need to give him pleasure and feel him in turn taking his pleasure from me, the need to be entirely commanded by his will, entirely subjected to him.
I picked up my phone, looked at it for an age in the darkness, the numbers glowing at me, beckoning me. I dialed his number, a number I had memorized, looked at for weeks wondering if I would ever have the nerve to dial it. I didn't press send, just looked at his number wondering what he would say, teasing myself with the image of him lying naked under thin sheets on a big bed, teasing myself with the image of his face looking down at me. My free hand grazed my nipple, I groaned and my eyes closed, my breath was ragged and hot with desire. I could see his face in my mind, his lips grazing mine as his hips lowered onto mine, his fingers were teasing my nipples, not my own. I was so aroused, so terribly aroused.
"Hello!" His voice came through the darkness at me, it was thick with sleep. I was stunned; I must have hit send without realizing it. "Who is this?" he questioned, still sleepily, his voice deep and slow and even more attractive than I remembered. He didn't sound irritated, just sleepy. This was stupid, I should just put the phone down and go back to sleep. I should forget about him and my ridiculous fantasies and switch the phone off.
"You don't know me." I replied in a half whisper, surprising myself. There was silence at his end for while.
"So, why are you calling me then?" He sounded vaguely interested in a sleepy way.
"I know you are gay." I blurted out.
"Mmmmmm. You and a couple of hundred other people." He murmured with a hint of humor. "Are you?"
I didn't know what to say, his question caught me completely off guard. The silence stretched out between us as my mind searched for a way to say no. "I don't know. I mean I didn't think I was, until.........."
"Until what?" He probed gently, sleepily.
"I met you." I blurted out, lulled by the safety of the anonymity, safe in my dark bedroom.
"Ohhhhh!" He said in a slow rumble. "It's a long time since I had that effect on anyone." Then there was a long pause. "It's flattering, but you should find someone a little better equipped to handle the responsibility of this than me."
"I dream about you every night. I dream about giving myself to you." I said, my voice wavering and the words sounding huge in my own head.
"Mmmmmmm." he mumbled appreciatively. "You have it bad, don't you! You have no experience of what you're dreaming about, it makes it all seem more dreamy I'm guessing. You really want to be my boy?" His voice was thick and sexy, a hint that he was a little intrigued too.
I agonized for a moment, then, relishing the moment I quietly whispered: "Not your boy. I want to be your girl."
There was silence at the other end. Perhaps I had pushed too far, perhaps I had misjudged, perhaps this was too much even for a gay man to process and perhaps my dreams had obscured the truth. He was a gay guy, he liked other men, not ones who wanted to be girls.
"How much?" He asked.
I was frozen. Shocked. How much? What? He wanted me to pay him? Wanted to know how much he had to pay me? This wasn't about money, What?
"How badly do you want this?" He spoke out of the silence. "Is it just a dream, or is it deeper, stronger."
"Deeper than a dream. It consumes me all night, haunts me all day."
"Hmmmmmm. How old are you?"
"23"
"How long have you been interested in men?"
"I don't know. It has been growing, I guess, for a year or two, but there wasn't anything specific. Not until you."
"How big are you? You sound like a cute little thing!"
"I'm 175 centimeters, 72 kilos." I replied with a little pride.
"Nice." He purred. "You are a cute little thing."
"Are you in bed?"
"Yeah."
"Wearing anything?" His voice sounding husky, interested, sexual.
"A satin babydoll, panties and stockings. "
"Huh. How does it feel?"
"Sexy. Slippery on my smooth skin."
"How smooth?"
"Very. I'm not very hairy and I shaved in the shower this evening."
