Unbetitelt

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“Less is more.”  Less boy, more girl.  I like that.  I think that’s a good way to look at one’s journey in being a girly boy.  At least I like to think of it that way for me.  I’m not becoming a woman and I know I’ll always be a boy.  So, that means that there will always be a kind of wrestling match going on in my life.  I know myself enough to know that the boy will never win out, but he’ll always be fighting for some attention.  I know that, because no matter what clothing I have on, I will always look like a boy.  No matter how I act, talk, or even smell, I don’t have a feminine figure.  Regardless, I don’t have to allow my physique to disrupt my passion.  I’ll choose, if it doesn’t come naturally, to be less boy and more girl.

I hope you all have a fabulous day.  For those of you precious girlies who are taking bigger steps, I hope for you that you will one day say, “No boy and all girl.”  But for the majority of my followers, let me encourage you as before: “Less is more.”  Less boy, More girl.

"You, uh, you're looking a little distracted there, champ." Rick knew the pause was deliberate, accompanied by a sly smile and a glance down at the bulge in his boxers that was getting bigger by the second, but he couldn't really be upset by the implications of Donna's knowing words. His mind seemed to have coasted to a gentle halt, caught off guard by the sight of his sister's friend standing in the kitchen wearing nothing but a bra and a pair of thong panties that left her sculpted ass thoroughly exposed, and even though he felt guilty about staring he couldn't make himself stop, either. His eyes were absolutely magnetized to the tight, rounded curves of her buttocks and they simply would not look away.

And Donna didn't exactly seem bothered by the attention. She took a sip of her coffee and said, "Lori got called in to work, by the way. Some big emergency, said she probably wouldn't be home for hours. So it's just you and me in the apartment for a while… if there was anything you were thinking about doing, you know. Anything you might have been feeling shy about." Rick was surprised at how little of that he consciously processed--his brain was still cobwebbed with the lingering remnants of sleep, yes, but he intuitively understood it shouldn't be this hard to push thoughts through his slow and sluggish mind--but some part of him must have figured out what Donna was implying because his hand moved down to rub his cock through the fabric of his underwear.

Donna responded by setting down her coffee cup and leaning against the kitchen counter, thrusting her ass out and swaying her hips in a gentle, almost subliminal rhythm that Rick nonetheless followed with his eyes. "That's a good boy," she purred, looking back at him with a seductive smile on her face. "It has to be so hard on you, living with your sister like this. All her cute friends coming and going every day, wearing such sexy outfits and showing off their hot bodies, and you can't do a thing about it because Lori's always around and you can't make a move. It has to make your balls ache with arousal, honey. You probably can't even think because you're just so fucking horny." There was something about her soft, sensual growl that seemed to register a warning inside Rick's brain, but he couldn't think what it might be because his prick was getting so hard against his rubbing hand.

"Don't worry, sweetie," Donna cooed, hooking her fingers into the waistband of her panties and lowering them slowly down a little bit more with every sway of her hips. "I'll take care of your little man, I promise, and when I'm done you'll be so happy to be drained of all that sexual tension that you won't even want to think anymore." That sounded faintly ominous more than it did sexy, if Rick was being totally honest, but by this point his cock was straining against the fabric of his boxers and the warm, throbbing pulse of lust between his legs was drowning out any misgivings he might have. He felt himself stepping closer, the action coming from somewhere totally outside his conscious control, and his underwear puddled around his ankles as Donna leaned back into his stiff prick and guided him inside her. That was about the end of Rick's memories of the day… but the warm, lingering pleasure that replaced his thoughts would make him easy for Donna to control whenever she wanted.

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