A Gurl in Search of Her Man

The cock was inches from my face; I looked at it, looked over at my wife. "I'm so scared," I whispered.

She touched my face in a calm, reassuring way. "Every girl is her first time," she said. "He'll be special to you. Every man a girl sucks has a claim on her, but the first one has a different kind of claim because no girl ever forgets her first blowjob."

I was suddenly afraid I wasn't pretty enough, feminine enough. She read my mind, leaned over, whispered in my ear. "Look how hard he is," she said, "you're what he wants. Just close your eyes and do it like we practiced."

I did, I closed my eyes and let myself melt. I opened my mouth, leaned forward just a fraction, stuck my tongue, and licked the head of his cock, tasting the salty precum.

"That's my girl," my wife encouraged me. She put her hand on the back of my head, gently pushed me forward, and guided me to his cock. "Just hold it there for a moment," she said, "and savor him. Swirl your tongue around his head and taste him. This will imprint him in your mind, his size and shape, his feel, his taste. You'll measure every cock you ever taste against him.

My eyes opened, found my wife’s, and I moaned.

"That's it," she said, "savor him. You'll never forget it, you'll never forget him. That first cock will be on your mind forever. You'll have dreams about it, and you'll be thinking about it all the time, even when you're just with me."

I felt his hand on my head, holding me, guiding me. I couldn't move forward or backward; I could just hold his cock in my mouth, the taste of him imprinted on me. I blinked, afraid. Would I really think of cock every time I was intimate with my wife?

The quiet yearning

For years, he tried to push the feeling away the quiet yearning that whispered beneath the surface, telling him he wasn’t truly himself. He wore his masks, tucked away the feminine dreams, hoping they’d disappear.

But one day, he finally let go. Draped in soft and silky fabrics, he looked in the mirror and saw her the real him, radiant and whole. The happiness that swelled inside couldn’t be denied. He was no longer hiding; he was becoming her, and it was more beautiful than he ever imagined.

I cannot work miracles as some mistresses would have you believe, but as a passing trans woman, I can help put you on a firm setting where you can enjoy being feminine instead of muddling through, embracing the true you with confidence and grace.

🅣🅢🅐🅑🅑🅔🅨🅒🅗🅐🅢🅔

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