Your first Date

You wake up with butterflies in your stomach, like you had all night. You did sleep moderately well given how nervous you are, the dreams all about Clara lured you into the dreamworld. Refreshed you get out of bed, under the shower and call in sick at work while having a coffee. You don't feel bad about it. They're not going fire you and even if. More time to spend with Clara. That's all that matters right now.

The door bell rings and you jump, run to the door. There she is, radiant, beautiful, the prettiest sight you can imagine.

You barely notice she’s wearing baggy jeans, a black baggy T-shirt, a base cap, no makeup. She didn't dress up for your first proper date, but why should she have to, she’s perfect without trying. You on the other hand took a long time to pick your best outfit. Not TOO sexy – you don't want to seem **** – even though you are. Desperately in love. A sundress, flowery pattern, short enough to give a good glimpse of your firm thighs and your pink panties when you bend over or spread your legs right, and tight and sheer enough to let your date know you’re not wearing a bra.

Not too much make-up, but enough to make your pretty face perfect – you've become quite an expert in make over the last week.

Clara clicks her tongue.

“Wow. You look hot, Lexi.”

You blush, harder than ever this week. No matter what you did, no matter who called you hot, nothing hit you as deep as this.

“You… you look stunning, Clara!”

You return the compliment. She doesn't blush but just laughs it off.

“Oh, don't mock me. I just put on this old stuff - I really hate dressing up in private, with all the glitter and chichi at work.”

“You look stunning in this old stuff!”

You mean it.

“OK, enough with that you don't have to flatter me to impress me, honey!”

She pulls you to her and you kiss in the door frame, hungrily, passionately. Kissing Clara feels like kissing no one ever before, as a man or a woman. You never knew a kiss could have so much… meaning. You wonder if some of your neighbours see you through their door viewer. You hope so. You want everyone to know you're in love.

“Ready to go?”

You're out of breath and can only nod. Link arms with her and obediently let your girlfriend lead you to the date she planned.

As you walk past a so window you take a look at you both. Clara in the baggy, almost masculine clothes and you the picture of a feminine woman, short dress and make-up and styled hair. For anyone who sees you, arm in arm, there can be no doubt who's the butch and who’s the femme in this lesbian relationship. You blush. At the beginning of your week as woman, with the voice of {fist_name_male} still loud in your head, dating another woman was the most logical place this would go. But now – his voice a lot more quite inside, he feels the need to object to how this goes. You're not meant to he the WOMAN in a lesbian relationship. Look at you, are you ENJOYING to look this girly, and follow the other woman around who's – metaphorically and very literally wearing the pants in this relationship?

You look at your reflection in the window and smile. Yes. You are enjoying it. Being a woman in love with another woman and being feminine about it. Screw you, {fist_name_male}, you loser never had anything remotely this meaningful.

You look up to Clara, smile and lean your head against her shoulder.

“I love you Clara!”

“I love you, too, Lexi.”

She kisses your hair as you enter the café she picked for brunch.

You enjoy the meal, but obviously your girlfriend's presence a lot more. You talk and talk, flirt like hell – you always play-acted flirting as friends, but it turned hot and steamy so quick and so real. You feed each other with your food and after bout an hour, it’s time to pay. Clara does, for you both, without hesitation. She picked the place, she pays.

You spend the rest of the morning in a nearby park, walking in the warm summer breeze, enjoying the sun on your skin. You find a nice spot by a pond, lay down in the soft grass and start heavily making out like two horny teenagers, kissing and fondling each other hungrily and without any inhibitions, Ignoring the wolf calls and whistles from passers by. And some less than kind remarks about from some damn homophobes, but only few and far between. Now that you're lesbian in public - or bi, at least, you have no desire for cocks when with your girl, but you can't deny you enjoyed them in the past days - you're more sensitive maybe. But also more determined to not let the bigots bother you.

Clara’s hand strokes your pussy through your panties under your short dress, but doesn't venture inside. Doesn't have to. You feel hot and flushed by your make out, your panties dripping wet as Clara decides it's time for a break. You feel your lips ache as the kissing stops, your other lips pulse longingly for her fingers, your whole being finds it very hard to let go of her once you have her in your arms. But eventually, you’re an obedient girlfriend and do what she wants. You would do everything she wants.

You try to straighten you hair - probably not very effective without seeing it and Clara laughs.

“And that's why I wear a hat for outdoor dates!”

You blush as puts a rouge strand of hair behind your ear.

“Don’t bother you looks sexy when you’re a bit dishevelled."

You giggle and leave it as it is if she likes it.

Clara gets you both tacos from a food truck for lunch – “Fish tacos” she winks with a grin. You roll your eyes. That’s just like her. A Dad joke about your new lesbian status to determine what you get to eat. You still have to grin as she licks hers before biting into it hungrily and sit down on the bench next to her. It’s yummy, Dad joke or not.

When you're done eating - not without Clara pulling of a “you got something on your mouth, let me lick it off! - leaning into a kiss" routine - Clara leads to to her afternoon plan of your date. You hadn't even realized she apparently intends to spend the whole day with you. This is less a date and more a girlfriend day out. You feel warm and cosy at the thought.

”Do you have to go to the club today!”

“Nah. This whole day belongs to you, after our little – kissing show yesterday he was -in a very good mood to give me a day off.”

You snicker, happily remembering the “kissing show”.

Clara pulls you into a boutique.

“Let’s go shopping!”

You hesitate.

“That’s… quote an expensive joint. I don’t think I..."

She kisses you on the mouth to shut you up.

“It's on me. You're my, girl, now I'm gonna treat you like the princess that you are!”

“But I couldn't…”

“Shhh. We both known I make more in a night at my work than you earn in a week in your boring office. I WILL make you expensive presents and that’s the end of it! You can thank me later!"

You blush. And at the same time decide that you will. Being honest with yourself, you love having a girlfriend who treats you like a princess.

You remember your relationship as teenagers. It seems 100% real to you by now. Clara was often the one in need of support, her self esteem low, family and friends estranged. you were her rock more than once. Somehow that has changes. Being Candy at work, a strong independent confident woman seems to have helped her a lot. she's a rock now. And you - your memory being a male teenager and man - more or less a "man" - clashes with your memory of yourself a confident woman. While your strength as a woman you remember as real, the strength you as a man sure wasn't - you play acted tough. Which all falls off of you now.

You look into mirror as you enter the store. Filling the subordinate,"female" role in a relationship feels - amazing. You enjoy being "weak" and allowed to lean on to a stronger partner. Because you are woman and deserve to be one who gets all the benefits. You smile and follow your girlfriend.

You spend what feels like hours searching through the clothes. Your attitude as a man towards shopping was what society expected it to be. You scoffed at the women fawning over dresses and skirts. Now that you’re woman, this is great. Going through clothes and imagining what you might look like is a one of the great joys in life.

Eventually you make it to the dressing rooms, a heap of clothes in your arms. Just for you, Clara was not joking about treating you.

Thank goodness the cabins are big, as Clara insists to be present at ever step of the try on.

You love it. Love your girlfriend's approving looks as you take off your dress and reveal your bare breasts – you giggle as she leans forward to kiss them

"I always loved those babies. So perfect. I can't believe they're mine now!”

You blush t this unashamed statement of owner ship

“They are…”

Is all you can reply.

And you love how your girlfriend appraises you in all the outfits she picked. After a while, in the tight dressing room she makes her decision what she’s buying for you: a short skirt, and some pretty sheer tops, all showing your pointy nipples. And yes, she decides. You have no objections, she picks all hot stuff for you that you'll love wearing for her – no baggy jeans and t shirts for you. You kiss her lips gratefully but then she pulls out one last thing she's been hiding from you until now. On a hanger a full set of lingerie, black, lacy, sheer at the right places – a half cup bra, thong, garter belt and stockings. You have bought yourself some serious sexy underwear yourself in the last week that you can't wait to show her. This one is – not sexiest but it also excites you more than anything you bought for yourself. Your eyes open wide.

“That’s…”

She winks at you.

"You’ll put this on for me tonight hen we get home, honey !”

Not a question, a statement. You blush at her almost commanding voice. And nod.

“Yes, babe. I'd love to!”

You kiss her again, this time gratitude mixes a lot more in the kiss with love and you cant stop with her lips. You pull up her shirt, kiss and lick her nipples, and finally go down on your knees, pull down her jeans and boxer shorts to reveal her plum an juicy pussy. You lick your lips and start kissing it, lick the clit, let your tongue play over her wet lips and slide it between them. Clara's clit swells and demands you attention and you pay it eagerly, licking kissing, sucking it, letting the tip of your tongue play over it as you keep it between your lips. Eventually, you hear Clara moan. She puts a hand over her mouth but she's loud, you're sure this can't remain secret in the small boutique as she cums and you hungrily lick up her juices.

She smiles down at you and pats your head.

“Well done, little {fist_name_female}.”

“Thank you, Mommy.”

She chuckles at the name but you smile. you love it. Being treated like princess makes you feel like the little girl you never were. But maybe... should have been… And very grateful.

You kiss her lips, the stand up and kiss her other lips giving her a taste of herself.

“It that’s how you thank me for being a generous girlfriend, you sure have more treats coming your way."

Getting put of the cabin and walking towards the check out, you feel the gazes of the other costumers on you as well as the grinning eyes of the cashier. Yeah, you're pretty sure everyone heard your girlfriend's ecstatic moans and grunts. Let them.

Clara's credit card takes care of the cheque and you walk out with the bags in your hands, filled with the tokens of being loved and pampered.

After dropping off the bags at your place – for a second you think the date is over, but you’re very wrong - Clara grabs our hand and moves out again taking you to the cinema. Movie night. You smile.

So many films you watched together. Or at least that’s how you remember it. This reality in which you were BFFs since forever has almost completely replaced the other one. You can still remember that one if you try. But you're so deeply ashamed of it, the man you were and the way you treated Clara that you don't try. This is reality. And right now you want it to stay reality, which makes you shiver when thinking about Sunday...

As much as you remember movie nights with Clara, as a date - this feels very different. For one, Clara paid for the tickets and for the snacks and drinks she picks. You're not a friends you're on a date. And she’s the man in this one so she’s in charge.

And as the one who pays she also picks. The horror movie over the superhero flick or the romcom, the big bucket of salty popcorn she likes over the sweet one you’d favour and a big drink with two. Fanta. Her favourite. You prefer Sprite, but smile and take a sip.

You follow your girlfriend into the theatre, sit beside her and grin as you take a handful of popcorn and another sip. Lean your had against her shoulder.

And jump at the very first musical sting of the opening credits of the movie. Clara chuckles.

“It hasn't even started yet, little scaredy cat!”

You scoff. You never were fan of horror movies. As a man, you, of course, never admitted that you didn't like them because you fucking hate being scared. You were a man THAT didn't bother you. As a matter of fact you actually just found them boring, thank you very much. And the way you always grabbed the armrests of your seat when your group of friends made you go to a horror movie with them had NOTHING to say.

You were a wimp.

Now though… you smile as Clara calls you a scaredy cat. There's nothing wrong with that, somehow. Is it because as a woman, you're allowed to show emotions? Allowed to be **** in public? Or is it rather…

As a black cat jumps to the screen with a musical sting you spill some of the drink into Clara's lap and grab her arm.

“Shh. It's OK. Nothing going on yet, baby-girl!”

She kisses your head.

That's the reason you’re not worried about going to a horror movie and showing your true feelings. You have someone with you to calm you. And to whom you dare show your true you. When you took a girl to a horror movie – hoping to get a few gropes out of it - you had to play act to be the tough one and and calm her. Which took ALL of your little strength so that you normally didn't even think about making out any more. Too busy hiding your fear and acting strong.

Now - you can let go.

You cuddle up to your tough, brave girlfriend, grab her hand when the slasher finds his first victim, bury your head in her shoulder as the hero has her first encounter she barely survives.

This feels – amazing, and you suddenly know why people like horror movies. This is cathartic. Letting out all your fear and turmoil - and having someone who doesn't judge you for it, comforts you, allows you to be weak by being strong. This is want you need, deeply, elementary. Someone to lean against, someone who holds you, because you’re weak. Feminine.

And you Always were. As a man, too. Had you accepted that, and looked foe someone, woman or man who guides you and takes you under her wing in relationship where you can be the woman, even as a man. You'd have been so much happier in life than by pretending to the a tough strong guy.

The gem on you chest glows warm. Lesson learned. Getting in touch with your feminine side is not just something you needed to do as woman to get rid of the curse, you should have done it all along as a man.

You smile, feel something inside of you vanish, a weight, a burden that seems to have build up for long years. Put an arm around your girlfriend and enjoy her warmth, her heartbeat, her strength. She a rock to support you. All you ever needed.

The final scare gets you good one last time and you hug her in terror. Burying your face in her shoulder, But you join her laughter and enjoy her comforting kiss. No matter how much terror life throws at you, she'll protect you.

"You’re an absolute mess, Lexi, you know that?" She smiles and kisses you.

“I really am, am I thank goodness I got you to straighten me out, baby.”

You lean into he for a long and passionate kiss, ignoring the cheer and applause of the mostly teenage audience passing you by on the way out of the theatre.

You feel like going home and cuddle up to her on the couch, the movie was - stressful, but Clara is not yet down with the night and pulls you towards the door of a bar right next to the movie theatre.

She picks to seats at the bar, orders you drinks – a whiskey for her, something pink, sweet and with a paper umbrella for you, making you giggle. She’s really determined to define your parts in this relationship. You take a sip of the sweet drink. It's delicious, why haven't you ever tried this before. Oh right. You were a man. No fun drinks for you, just beer. You hate beer.

You cover your frown with another sip. Stupid little man you were. Missing out on all the fun. Like pink drinks.

You feel the eyes of a few men in the joint resting on you, but before anyone can get up and approach you, Clara takes your head, pulls you towards her and kisses you, long, hungry, demanding. She's marking her territory and none of the guys dare to mess with her and lay claim on what's clearly hers. You blush, you love thinking about yourself as belonging to her.

You didn't talk much. It’s been a long day, you’ve had many a meaningful and many a silly conversation in the park, on the way to shopping or the cinema. Nothing much to talk about other than…

“I love you, Clara.”

“I love you, too, Lexi.”

Followed by more kissing. The perfect conversation after a long day.

After a while Clara gets up.

“Need to go powder my nose.”

You take your mark and without asking walk after her.

Nobody finds it weird, two women going to the restroom together. Common sight. You always wondered what that is about as man. You never got a chance to find it out as a woman until now… And to be honest you don't expect THIS occasion to be an exact representation of what most women do when the go together.

You enter the ladies room, past another guest who grins at you two as Clara pulls you into one of the stalls, presses you against the wall, kisses you hungrily, forcefully, dominantly.

“You make me so hot, baby, I need your mouth now, I need to cum!”

Without hesitation she pushes you down to your knees, opens her pants and drops them and her panties to her ankles.

You feel – used? She’s dominant and demanding, taking the privilege to use you that comes natural to her - and you - by now. You love it, you love how she takes your body when she wants. You give it to her willingly, whatever she wants, she gets. You're very happy to oblige and let her be the man.

You kiss her clit is swollen end erect, demanding to be caressed by your lips and tongue and you eagerly do so. She turns around, hands against the stall wall and pushes her ass out to you, you lick her plump lips from behind, fingering her slit, also wandering up and letting your tongue tease her brown little asshole. You've never done THAT before as BFF's with benefits, but the way she presents herself, you feel from her girlfriend this is what she wants. And there's nothing - NOTHING - your girlfriend wants you wouldn't give her. You lick and kiss her asshole while continuing to tease her clit until she cums, loud, wild, moaning and grunting, not trying to muffle her orgasmic screams this time.

Eventually she turns around and pulls up her pants and kisses your lips.

“I don't think I'll ever get tired your cute little mouth”

“I hope so.”

You smile and return her kiss eagerly and follow her out of the stall. She didn't offer to return the favour and make you cum, but you wouldn't want her to. She treated and pampered you all day, paid for everything, gave sou comfort and a shoulder to lean on. Making her cum in restroom quickie is the least you can do to thank her. she deserves the reward. You don’t need a recompense. You're happy and satisfied.

A woman at the wash basin looks a you as you leave the restroom. She must have heard Clara cum. Is she envious or shocked or aroused? You don't care.

You both get another drink to come down and then go to your place.

She sits down on your couch while you bring the bags of your new clothes and finally dress for her in her special gift. Putting it on in front of her. She observes you as you stand there, in sheer lingerie, garter belt, the eyes so the woman in jeans and t shirt you've fallen head over heels for eating you up - this is what you want to be. Your being as man has no purpose comparable to being loved by this woman.

She pulls you towards her and you fall onto her lap, giggling.

"You're so perfect, Lexi. How do I deserve you?”

She kisses you.

“I love being the prefect girl for you, Mommy. I love you!”

You kiss her.

“And… you don’t mind.. I mean… I’m aware I've been a little... presumptuous. Haven't made you cum all day, only took advantage of you, you just make me woozy and horny, and I have butterflies in my stomach, I just can't think of anything but your lips on my pussy whenever I'm with y....."

You giggle and kiss her again-

“Carla, the day way PERFECT. You're such a great girlfriend, Strong, generous, protecting. I've never felt so safe and loved with anyone. You can make me eat you out whenever you want and never worry about me! I love being your little lesbian fuckpet, I love making you cum, you so deserved that for all you did for me today.”

“Guess we're officially together then, huh!”

“Are we, Mommy?”

She chuckles.

“We are baby girl!”

As you kiss and hug and make out, she wriggles out of her baggy, clothes and climbs on top of you on your couch, her face between your legs as yours is between hers.

For the first time today you feel her lips and tongue on your private parts and close your eyes with a sigh. This is perfect You wouldn't want your first time as her as her girlfriend to be any different, you loved giving her her quick and intense clit jobs today and it feels right that she got to cum alone first – this is how you want your first orgasm with her as your lover. Long, caring, gentle, mutual. In the dim light of the night, you put your mouth to her lips and kiss her pussy, lick her clit as you feel her doing the same.

You spend a big part of the night 69ing on your sofa, enjoying each other's taste, fragrance, smells. You've remember doing this as friends with benefits, but none of that matters. That was shallow, casual fucking, teenagers experimenting. Neither that nor anything you experienced as a male teenager means anything compared to this. This is making love. For the first time in your life, male or female you understand making love is not just a euphemism for fucking. It's a whole different sports.

You cum multiple times, too many time you lost count, both of you, until you eventually lie entangled on your couch, Clara's weight comforting on your body, her heartbeat and warmth luring you into slumber.

When you recovered enough from your long day that you make it from the couch to your bed, where you cuddle up to Clara, your back pressed against her breasts as she puts her arms around you as the big spoon and you fall into the deepest, calmest, most resting sleep you've ever had. In the middle of the night, you barely wake up as Clara gets up – you try to cling to her, but are too sleepy.

“Nnmm, don’t go…”

“Shhhh, baby-girl. Everything's OK. I'm going home now. I want your first morning together to be as special as your first day. You’ll be patient, I’ll organize a sleepover at my place for our second date and then well have breakfast. Seep now. And have fun with your family tomorrow!”

She kisses you on the forehead and you drift back to sleep, dreaming of her. She writes a note proclaiming her love which will await you in the morning.