Fluid movements

Surrounded by those enclosing walls of pouring rain, it truly felt like this dirty, little bus stop might be an island cut off from all the world. Huddled up in your corner, still catching the occasional freezing drip down the back of your neck… you kissed the handsome boy who'd plucked you from the air just yesterday.

You put everything you had into that salivary mesh of tangling tongues. Drawing him in to push himself further into your mouth too. While down below your lithe fingers played piano upon the zipper of his jeans. It felt so wonderfully wicked to be doing this here: in otherwise miserable and grimy surrounds. A dirty, sleep-around sissy shoving your tongue into a veritable stranger… still unsure if he even really knew who and what you were. It was everything the world outside might tut at… Might grumble and gossip in ignorance about your generation, your sexuality, your 'type'. Yet, proving them so seditiously, maliciously right was just fun. A rebellious act of meeting their sordid, jealous expectations and going further… since they didn't really even know the half of what you got up to!

“Are you sure this is… okay?” Asked Trev, breaking off for just a moment. “Didn’t you say you had a boyfriend?”

By now your sissy blood was pumping at a mile a minute. The feel of his stiffened meat straining against its denim confines, just millimetres from your teasing fingertips… was not something you could resist much longer.

“Absolutely sure…” You winked, breathily. Beginning to tug at the pull of that last, metal obstacle between you and that which you craved to hold. Tooth by tooth. Clink by clank… it slowly began to open. “Me and Ben have an… an arrangement. He likes me to… explore...”

Your general timidity had not disappeared. The self-doubts and social awkwardness never left, even when you were dancing naked in a room full of strangers. It just… fell behind the uncontrollable, insatiable lust that also defined your very being. You were in a state of constant, blindingly heightened anxiety whenever you found yourself teetering on such an edge of sexual encounters. But it was that which drove your urges even more. Made you **** to fall into the messy, shameful delight of it all.

You had him out in the open air by now, gripped in the palm of your hand. Yet another throbbing, twitching meat-stick which had risen to full mast… just for you. Nothing made you happier than the thought that it was your care and attention. Your flirtatious innocence. Your sultry, feminised appearance… which had earned such a swollen salute. Everything made sense: when you had a freshly grown erection to hand. Your place and purpose in the world was obvious and absolute.

You jumped up to kiss him again, and this time there was no escape. You sucked his tongue into your mouth and kept it there, a willing prisoner. Your soft but iron grip upon the young man began to move, shifting up and down the length of his hardening realisation that this was really happening, right here and now. His kiss was reinvigorated by such acknowledgement: pushing back into your enthusiasm and setting you back upon the back foot, where you were always happier to be. Your neck was craning to reach him, and balance was teetering over… yet you had such a sturdy handle to hold onto, and all the joy of his strong arms against your back. Once again you were gifted with weightlessness, as this tall, new friend took the burden of your smaller frame. One of his hands slid down to find purchase in the bubbled bump of your derriere, the very purpose for which you'd honed it over years of careful exercise.

All around the rain kept falling… but suddenly you were so very warm. A sissy in their perfect element. A spirit of freedom and fluidity.