by Zoe Brown
Violetta’s comments to me on the day that I had come out to her about my gender-bending desires came back to me then, as we shot down the highway headed south out of the city together, flying so fast that other, slower moving vehicles seemed to be standing still as we blew by them. Her suspicion that, underneath my competitive, macho exterior I was hiding a secret, private desire to give in, to submit, to let someone finally beat me, let someone finally take the power from me, let someone pleasure me for a change, instead of the other way around, came back to me. I remembered her words: “I mean LOOK AT YOU! You have spent your entire life trying to be the best, most successful, most powerful, most desirable and most daring macho man around, but now that you’re there, it all feels meaningless to you, and what you want more than anything is to be a ‘hot girl.’ Give up all that power and strength and success and sexual dominance and just be a soft, beautiful, sexy young woman who gets flirted with, and maybe teased, and gets to be a little bit decorative, and feminine, and… who ‘gets fucked.’” She’d raised an eyebrow at me, grinning as she tapped my chest. “I listened when you said that: ‘get fucked.’ Not ‘fuck.’ ‘Get fucked.’ There IS a little bit of a submissive inside of you after all! I was right! I just didn’t know… that she was a girl!”
The image of the big, handsome, hulking piece of manflesh riding a crotch-rocket not twenty feet behind me, as well as the knowledge that he was chasing me all the way across San Francisco because he very obviously wanted to get in my pants, sent another shocking current of arousal rolling across my body. I actually moaned out loud, feeling my damp crotch actually getting seriously wet now, after nearly fifteen minutes of solidly lusting after the nameless stranger. I wanted him. FUCK, I wanted him so badly. Violetta was right. I wanted to give up control. I wanted to submit – just a little bit. To give in. To be taken. To be pleasured. To be his woman, for a few minutes.
I want him to get in my pants, I groaned breathlessly, excitedly, in my own mind, feeling my nipples tightening even more achingly inside my sports bra as I imagined his big strong hands on me, on my breasts, on my hips, on my big, beautiful ass, on my pelvis, running along the firm, smooth lines of my pubic mound, down towards my soaking wet pussy… Unnnnnhhhh! I want him to touch me everywhere. I started panting, my new breasts beginning to heave up and down on my chest as my heartrate and breathing increased in response to my arousal, imagining the big bulge in his pants that I assumed – that I hoped – he possessed, imagining me touching it for the first time with my small and girlish hands – another man’s penis! For the first time! No, not ‘another man’s penis’, because I’m not a man right now. I – I squeezed my thighs together as if to confirm that fact, feeling my wet, empty, achingly yearning and almost-soaking crotch beginning to dampen my lacey new panties at last – I am most definitely a woman right now… and thank fucking god! I groaned the last, feeling a full-body yearning for the man riding along behind me and deciding, finally, in that moment, that I was going to do something about it – right here and now.
I mean, after all, I reasoned to myself, as the land to my left fell away and the San Francisco Bay filled all of my peripheral vision on that side, isn’t that what this whole weekend is supposed to be about? Spending a weekend as a beautiful, hot, sexy, and very sexually active young woman? Well – here’s the sex part, a little bit ahead of schedule I guess, but shit, the body is fucking willing, even if my spirit is a little… nervous.
When a sign for the turn off onto Sierra Point Parkway flashed by on my right, I suddenly glanced up and ahead of myself, taking note of a small little paved over pit-spot on the side of the road a little bit off of the main highway. It looked like it might have once been a part of a planned construction project for a new neighborhood, but the larger project appeared to have been abandoned before it was begun, leaving only an awkwardly-large paved space off to the side of the road now. I gave the site a quick once over as we approached: it was fairly well off from the main highway – at least a hundred feet down a slight bank. There were some lane dividers at the end of the paving, plenty of space for both of our bikes and it looked like a pretty private spot – no one else was parked there, or driving by…
Fuck it, it’s not gonna get better than this, I growled hungrily at myself, reaching up with one arm and signaling for my pursuer, behind me, to follow my lead as I slowly pulled myself off of the main highway and onto the Sierra Point Parkway turn off. He did so. Glancing back over my shoulder in his direction, I saw him bank to the right, following my lead, as we both swung away from the main lanes of traffic and towards the relative privacy of the secluded little paved area beside the road.
It only took us one, maybe two minutes to pull off of the road and into the paved area, but the closer we got the more I started feeling nervous, twitchy, and shaky. The reality of the act that I had just committed to was suddenly hitting me, and I was both reeling from the shock and trembling with nervous anticipation as I approached the little, semi-secluded spot I’d picked for my rendezvous with Mr. Sexy Biker Guy, for my official deflowering as a woman.
A number of different, sometimes complimentary but mostly conflicting thoughts suddenly began thundering through me as I started to decelerate off of the highway – What am I doing!? Oh my god, am I really going to do this? Am I really going to let him fuck me? Let HIM fuck ME? No, girl, I’m gonna fuck HIM! Oh god, I’m really going to do this! FUCK I wanna do this so fucking much!! – I roared into the paved little ‘pit stop’ just a little too hot, and somewhat jerkily came to a stop, pumping the breaks more desperately than I would have liked and kicking out with my booted feet to try and slow myself before my bike could crash into one of the lane dividers. I came up short just in time, but I could definitely feel how flushed and trembly I was as I shifted my bike into park and switched the engine off, and when I swung one leg over the side of the bike so that I could stand again, I found that I was a bit unsteady on my feet. I settled instead for leaning back against the seat of my parked bike (parked up against the side of one of the lane dividers, as it was), propped up on with my arms and hands behind me on the seat, unintentionally arching my chest up and out and putting my breasts on full display again, my legs crossed one-over-the-other at the thigh, rather fetchingly but unintentionally ‘posed’ as my pursuer coasted in behind me.
“Oye, Mama,” the tall, ripped, handsome muscular man in the tight white t-shirt and an equally tight pair of dark black jeans whistled at me as he bent his head and pulled off his helmet, setting it on the seat behind himself as he switched off his bike, kicked out the kickstand, and swung off the seat to drop feet first into the thin layer of sandy dust that covered the paved area, “Shit, woman, you can ride…” he laughed appreciatively, grinning widely at me and staring at me with those intense, dark eyes of his.
I shivered again as his eyes took me in, devouring my full figure from head to toe, drinking in my curves with a lick of his lips and with a lustful hunger in his eyes. Watching him want me, I felt my own yearning for him only intensify. I kept being surprised every time that my nipples seemed to get even harder inside of my bra, and my panties were definitely getting wet now. My new womanhood ached and yearned for something to penetrate me, to fill me up. And fuck, I needed it to be him. I mean, just fucking look at him, I purred inwardly at myself, at the little bit of me that was still feeling hesitant and nervous about what I was about to commit to. But outwardly, I tried to keep my cool. I took a deep, slow breath, unable to completely hide how affected I was by his body, and by his obvious interest in me (he smiled a little when he saw me shiver, and tremble), but then I steeled myself, clenching my teeth for a moment to still their chattering, and then coolly and regally tossed my flowing hair back over my shoulder, fixing the tall, dark, handsome, hulking stranger with a lustful look of my own.
“Well thanks for noticing. But…” I licked my glossy, painted lips, slowly and deliberately, “I already knew how well I could ride a bike,” I teased him and retorted all a
t the same time, “now I just want to know …” I let my eyes wander down his considerable chest, and then sucked in an excited breath and rode through the sensation of another lustful tingle in my crotch when I saw that the bulge in his pants was just as large as I’d hoped it would be, “how well I can ride you.”
Slowly, deliberately, I uncrossed my legs and parted them several inches wide, setting my heels firmly on the ground. I felt the wet crotch of my lacey panties tug snuggly against the wet lips of my pussy, and the tight, stretchy and shiny fabric of my black leggings pull taut against the flat, smooth, inviting slope of my very clearly feminine anatomy. I was trying to issue a very clear and not-at-all-subtle invitation to my hot, sexy, male pursuer. I just had to hope he would take me up on it, because otherwise, I had a feeling that I would start feeling pretty silly in a minute or two.
Fortunately for me, however, my mystery man picked up on the invitation right away, and he chose to act on it without any hesitation whatsoever. Closing the distance between us with three swift, sure steps, the big, dark handsome hunk of man flesh that had chased me out of the city slipped a hand behind my neck and up the back of my head, into my hair, pulling my face roughly against his and into a powerful, passionate kiss that, metaphorically, knocked me off of my feet.
Mmmmphhhh! I heard myself moan inside my mind, while against his lips I whimpered, “Mmmmmmph!” The kiss itself had surprised me. Much more surprising to me, though, was just how much I enjoyed it. Having never kissed a man before, I’d had no idea what to expect – what it would taste like, whether it feel soft and sensual, like a woman’s mouth, or rougher and more aggressive, like a typical man’s sexual advances. To my delight, however, I discovered that I quite enjoyed the taste of ‘man-mouth,’ or ‘man-lips,’ or at least this man’s lips. There was something about them that reminded me of … good coffee, or of hot cocoa, or … cinnamon rolls. I mean, not really those things, but like little hints of those things, little similarities, or little ways in which my mind tried to connect the taste of this man’s lips with other tastes that I already knew I liked. I don’t know, exactly. But I liked it! And while there was a bit of rough aggression in the insistence of his mouth, I … discovered that I actually, sort of, enjoyed that, too. I liked letting his lips set the pace of our kiss, I liked surrendering to the urgency of his lips, the speed with which he devoured my mouth, the moment at which we moved from a set of impassioned, closed-mouthed kisses to more fully-throated, groaning, open mouthed kisses instead, with dueling tongues and huge gasping breaths as we both tried to consume and devour one another’s delightfully pleasing lips with our own.
“Unnnnnhhhh…” I groaned deeply into his mouth after we locked lips yet again, gasping for breath with my nose and biting down on his soft, full bottom lip, sucking it into my mouth, “Mmmmmmm…”
And it wasn’t just kissing that we were getting up to either. At the same time that my unknown, mysterious paramour pulled my face towards his and started kissing me, his other hand slid up one side of my body, under my leather jacket, up over my satin blouse, and wrapped a large, powerful, meaty hand around my right breast and began to squeeze and caress it hungrily through the fabric of my shirt and bra.
“UNNNNNNNHHH!” I groaned, crying out loudly against the dark-eyed stranger’s lips as my back arched and my chest pushed the chosen breast firmly against his hand, begging for more. Every touch of his hand on my soft, new, sensual breast mound – even through two not-inconsequential layers of fabric – felt like delicious fire, shooting sparks into my tight, aching nipples and all the way through my body, warm electric currents that blazed through me and tickled all of my pleasure centers, even firing their way down into the depths of my crotch, where, beneath the mound of my pussy, my womanly little clit tightened, tingled, and ached for direct physical contact.
Fortunately, however, that region of my body didn’t have too terribly long to wait for its desires to be fulfilled, either. Once he had his hands on me, and lips on mine, my handsome, muscular lover stepped swiftly in between my thighs and ground the hard cock that was outlined in the front of his pants against my smooth, empty, and inviting female crotch.
“MMMmmmpphh!” I heard myself whimpering against his mouth as his hardness ground down against the soft, yielding flesh of my smooth, sloping pelvis, the tight and excitable bundle of nerves and pleasure-receptors that made up my new clitoris, buried beneath my new vaginal mound, and the supremely sensitive lips of my wet, aching new vagina. Though there were several layers of cloth separating my new womanly genitalia from his male parts – Nnnnnghh! Not for much longer I hope, mmmmm! – I could have sworn I that I could already feel the heat of his cock pressing into me, and it turned my already wet, willing lady parts into a dripping waterfall of arousal.
“MMmmmpphh!” I whimpered again as my muscle man rocked his hardness into me. The dampness seeping out of my pussy was starting to seriously affect the dryness of my clothing, down below, and for that reason – as well as my own eagerness to get this on with and find out just what the experience of vaginal penetration felt like from the other side of the vagina-having fence – I tore my lips away from my lover’s with a moan of regret, gasping for breath and whispering hoarsely: “I don’t want to wait. I need you in me, now,” I felt myself smirking internally as I heard myself echoing the sentiments that so many women, most recently among them Jade and Brianna, had whispered to me in a similar state of arousal and sexual urgency.
“Ohhhh, shit, chica,” the big hunk groaned against my cheek, his own chest starting to heave with labored breathing as he felt my urgency, my warm, inviting crotch basically melting under the proximity of his hard cock. He was a strong and handsome man, but it had probably been a long time since any woman had wanted him so much that he could all-but feel her crotch flooding with arousal under his hard shaft. I knew from experience just how potent an aphrodisiac the knowledge that I was basically melting for his cock could be, and he wasted no time taking advantage of my desires. Lifting his hips away from my crotch (a movement which, though I knew it was coming and had wanted it, so that we could both get some of the clothing out of the way, made me whimper a bit in protest), my big man started fumbling with the button and zipper of his jeans, while I lifted my round hips and womanly ass off of the padded seat of my bike long enough to slip my hands down inside of my tights and under my panties and push them down to beneath my knees, after which I wriggled them completely off of one booted leg.
When the soaking wet, womanly-musky scent of my thoroughly-drenched vagina hit the air, both of us smelled my arousal at the same time. We exchanged a look. A nakedly smug, self-assured smile stretched across my soon-to-be-lover’s face as he smelled how badly I wanted him, and while my initial reaction was bashfulness – I blushed and felt my cheeks heat, my eyelashes fluttered, and I couldn’t immediately meet his gaze – I thought back to the confident, charmingly-assertive ways in which both Jade and Brianna had owned their sexualities and their desires during their intimate encounters with me. They, like many other women I had been with, I now recognized, had simply been sexual women, like I was now, who had wanted me back then like I now wanted my muscle-bound, bike-riding stranger – they hadn’t been ashamed or embarrassed about their desires, and I didn’t want to be either.
Taking a deep breath, I glanced up at my hard-bodied friend and managed a lusty and encouraging smile. “Well, see look what kind of effect you have on me?” I challenged him, blushingly, spreading my thighs even wider as I slid my wet, soaking crotch even closer to the edge of my bike seat – and my lover. I could still feel my cheeks burning, but I could hold his gaze, and when he dropped his pants and his tight black briefs, I fixed my eyes on his dark, veiny, throbbing cock without even a hint of bashfulness or embarrassment. My eyelashes did flutter again, though.
My god, though, he was huge! I might have been over-estimating things a bit because it was my first time, but he looked easily as thick around as my balled-up girl-fist, and hal
f again as long as my old cock had been on its best day. I couldn’t believe that that monster was going to go inside of me. What was even weirder, though? I wanted it inside of me. I’d never once looked with interest or desire – or anything other than vague disinterest – at another man’s penis before in my life, but now I found myself gazing longingly at the strong, handsome shaft of his engorged member and found myself craving it with my whole body – especially the new, feminine parts between my thighs. I felt a yearning inside my new womanhood, an aching emptiness that my body was telling me my new lover’s massive manhood could happily fill. I could feel muscles inside my newly flat and smooth, wider female pelvis tensing and seizing as I took in the size of him, anticipating what was to happen next.
“Well that’s big,” I heard my new, soft, soprano voice whisper – unintentionally. I was just so surprised. My hot biker guy’s face brightened with delight and amusement at my impromptu admission. I blushed again, but managed to laugh it off, pulling my partner in towards me with a groan of desire. “Oh, shut up and get over here.”
“Si, bella, whatever you say,” my big man laughed with me, stumbling closer as I tugged on the front of his shoulders. Once again, his powerful arms went around me, as each of his massive hands gripped one of my full, firm ass cheeks (and a fair amount of my hips, to be honest) in his palms and pulled me, and the wet, aching emptiness between my thighs, closer to his hard, straining cock.
Panting faster and faster, I grabbed the shaft of his cock in one of my delicate, feminine hands. Even after a lifetime as a man, thousands of years of evolution had supplied my overwhelmingly horny, female body with all the instincts and biological urges it needed to figure out what to do next, and instinct was taking over now. My vagina was wet, she was willing, and she was empty – and one look at that big giant of a cock was all she needed to start flooding my system with signals that my brain interpreted as ‘see that big cock there? STICK IT IN ME!’
