My name is Keven Bardot and, yes, I am a Sissy! When I was a teen I put on my mom’s panties and some of her lipstick when she was out. I had longish blonde hair and I ruffled it up – kind of teased it up – and when I looked in her dresser mirror, I almost ejaculated. Because what I saw looking back at me was not a skinny excuse for a male. What I saw was an extremely sexy looking girlie-girl – and it was me! I went to mom’s closet and picked out a pair of her high heels, stepped into them, and walked to the full length mirror in the hallway. When I saw myself in the full length – a woman with a hard on – then I did cum. I was immediately ashamed, and couldn’t wipe the red lipstick off my mouth fast enough.

That was the first time I stepped over the line. But definitely not the last. I had always been hypersexual; I used to get a hard on thinking about this one girl in my class. I imagined her naked and I was chasing her and whipping her. I should note that I was not like most of the guys of my age, in that I was very much a born sissy. I loathed any sort of athletic sports, for example, and I was afraid of my peers because I had no real physical strength, was uncoordinated, and could not fight. I was bright enough, however, to understand that being a sissy in the world in which I found myself, was completely unacceptable. I had a real sense of shame and embarrassment. So I went to great lengths to fake it; I didn’t play with girls, for example, and I avoided situations that would put myself in the spotlight.

Being a weakling, I learned to be a good manipulator. I managed to make it through my youth by keeping a low profile. So when I began masturbating several times a day, I figured I was normal enough. After all, I was extremely attracted by the sight of the naked women in the sex magazines that I used as a visual aid, so I assumed that I must be normal.

I had heard about queers. Everybody I knew hated queers. The last thing anyone in my circle wanted was to be thought of as a queer! There were queers in San Francisco, some of whom dressed and behaved like women. I was told that the queers had bars and clubs where they hung out. These were revolting people to the people I knew.. So when I found myself in front of that full length mirror, wearing my mother’s high heels, panties and lipstick, I was revolted with myself.

It was around that time that my cousin and I were taking a shortcut through the woods. As we rounded a bend in the path we came upon a guy of around our own age, sitting on a large boulder, completely naked. We walked on in stunned silence until we heard him call out: “Do you want a blowjob?”

I was enraged. This was an affront to my maleness. I told my cousin that we should go back and give this nymph a beating. We ran back to the boulder but the nymph had disappeared. My cousin and I resumed our journey, speaking in tones of outrage as to what we would do if we ever saw that “faggot” again.

A few days later I went back to the boulder by myself, hoping to find the nymph – not to beat him – but to join him. To do what, I didn’t know. Perhaps just to frolic naked with him, feeling the warm spring breezes on our beautiful young bodies, or maybe to sit naked and provocative next to him, both of us soliciting real men as they passed by. I went back several times, hoping to see him, but I never saw him again.

My relationship with the opposite sex had always been strained. Now that I was full of sexual desire, I imagined various girls of my acquaintance, naked with me. In reality these same girls left me tongue tied and red from embarrassment. Many guys of my age had matured to where they had begun to look and act like actual men. I was small and skinny and had no body hair to speak of other than a few sparse, very blonde hairs on my pubis. When I entered the navy at the age of 18, I still could have easily passed as much younger.

I had sex with another person for the first time when I was 18. I was in the navy and stationed in California. I still had absolutely no confidence around girls, but I was always horny. I don’t know why I did it, but a few days after arriving at the base, I went walking through the sweltering hot city late at night. I didn’t know then that what I was doing was called “cruising”, a homosexual term for looking for sex.

It was a very hot night and I was wearing a tank top and some really short skimpie cutoffs, and my black navy issue dress shoes with black socks that really accentuated my hairless, skinny, feminine looking white legs! After about an hour I spotted a car that I had seen earlier. God – I was so fucking HORNY! I kept putting my hand in my pocket and pressing down on my erection.

I knew that the driver was hawking me. I knew that what I was doing was called “cruising”, and I knew, oh so well, that was what what queers do – and I didn’t care. I was so horny I just didn’t care! The car came by again and this time pulled over. The driver had his window down. My heart was pounding and I was really nervous. Now I knew that this time I was the nymph, out for seduction. The driver leaned over. “You need a lift?” he asked. He was Latino, about 40, with a shaved head and a goatee.

I walked over to the passenger window. “I don’t know”, I said. “I’m just hangin’ out.”

“Come on, get in”, he said, reaching over and opening the door. I was really nervous – scared – but something inside me told me I had to. I got in the car and closed the door. He drove off immediately, giving me these intense looks. He pressed the lock button and I heard my door lock. Now I couldn’t get out even if I wanted to! I stared straight ahead. Then he put his hand on my bare leg. I stiffened, but said nothing. His hand began feeling my bare legs and I could feel myself getting hard. “Ju gotta silky legs, puto”, he said. “Like a woman!” I blushed, embarrassed. I didn’t know what “puto” meant.

“Thank you”, I said, still staring straight ahead. He pulled over near a school.

“Let’s go for a walk”, he said. We walked to the building and he led me to some exterior concrete steps that descended to a basement door. We went halfway down the stairs, until we were out of sight. It was a hot night, dark and very private. He stripped off his wifebeater and pulled off his jeans and undershorts, until he was naked in just his socks and work boots. He was really muscley, big arms with oodles of big, hard muscles, shave head, goatee, and had a lot of tattoos on his arms and torso. He was so – fuckin – CUTE!

I quickly stripped to just my dress shoes. As soon as I was naked he took me and pulled me close to his body, leaning down and kissing me deeply, his big hands were cupping my buttocks. He was really hot. He began kissing my lips, face, ears and neck, calling me, “juera, puto,” and “linda.” He put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me down on my knees. “Chupar mi pollo, marica!” He choked, gripping his hard cock. “Suck me.” I had my first kiss, and now I was about to give my first blowjob.

I had seen videos before of women sucking men off. I bent my head and took the head of his dick into my mouth and began sucking him off. He was moaning and ran his thick fingers through my mop of thick blonde hair, entwining my hair in his fingers to control the movements of my bobbing skull. I ran my hands all over his big hairy legs. Suddenly he tensed and I felt my throat being flooded with warm semen. I swallowed it and he relaxed back on the steps, his chest heaving. I remained crouched between his legs, resting my face against his thigh. I looked up at him. “Didja like it?” I asked him, savoring the unfamiliar taste of semen in my mouth.

“Oh that was so good, “juera”, he said. “Where you learn to suck cock like that?” I blushed and put my head down. I felt so…right, my cheek on his thigh, inhaling the smell of his bare flesh.

We had a cigarette and then put our clothes back on. The Latino – he told me his name was Abel – drove me to the bus station. It was 1 a.m. The last bus going to the base left a 1:15. Abel sat with me as I waited. He told me that he wanted to see me again. “I want to fuck you next time, Blondie”, he whispered. I looked at him. I was so naïve.

“Fuck me? But where? I don’t have a pussy?”

“I fuck you from behind – that is your chocha – your pussy.”

I rode back to the base, my head reeling from what had just happened. Now I was having second thoughts. I began to feel really angry – with myself – and with Abel. I began to transfer my anger to him, blaming him for what had happened at the school, as if he had reped me. After a few days I made friends with some of my fellow sailors and tried to put what happened with Abel behind me.

I was furious with myself on the bus ride back to base – and for several days afterward. Furious that I had let myself slip and acted like – like – I dont know! Like some faggot? I swore that it would never happen again, and I hated Abel for what he had done to me. I felt like killing him.

But guess what? Two weeks later, I was laying in my bunk with a hard on. it was a really hot, sweltering afternoon, and I began feeling crazy horny! I teased up my hair and put on my short-shorts and black dress shoes with black socks rolled down around my ankles, and a skimpy black muscle shirt – which I had no business wearing as I had nothing resembling a muscle on my body! I looked in the mirror. God, I looked like a total faggot! A complete sissy! But my mind was sex crazed by that point and I just didn’t give a fuck! It was 3 pm on Friday, and I didn’t have to be back on duty until Monday. I ran to the bus stop and caught the first bus to town.

On the ride to downtown all I could think about was getting some hard cock! It was still early when I got to town. I went straight from the bus station to a really dirty section of the city. I spotted an old hotel and went to the desk and got a room. The clerk was an older bald headed mexican guy. He kept looking at me and licking his lips. I pulled out a coral pink lipstick and applied some to my pouty lips, acting really sexy and putting on a show for him. I mean, I wasn’t gonna fuck him or anything – he was old and ugly – but it turned me on to know that he wanted me. He gave me the key and I went to my room. It was a pretty nice room for a dump. There were no windows, but I didn’t care about that anyway. And there was air conditioning! I decided to go out and cruise, hoping to find Abel – or some other rough man – it made no difference to me. I went out, wearing nothing but the butt baring jeans cutoffs – no shirt, no shoes – just the short shorts! I felt so SEXY – and LIBERATED!

I had been thinking about Abel a lot lately. By the time I hit the street it was 7 pm. It was still light out, but the shadows were growing longer. I walked on a main drag, every so often cutting down the side streets and coming back out on the main drag again. I knew I looked sexy and white trashy, barefoot with only my tiny short-shorts and the pink lipstick! I wore the pink lipstick because it was noticable but not too obvious. Because looking the way I was looking, the attention I was gonna get was either from some horny guys, OR – from gay bashers!

Then I spotted his pickup! It was Abel! My heart was pounding. I pretended not to see him, but I began walking a little more sexier, wiggling my hips a little more, behaving a lot more feminine! He pulled up next to me and I turned. I gave him a little smile, but continued walking. This time it was different. This time I was feeling much more confident, and I knew how much he wanted me. I wanted him just as badly but I didn’t want to act over eager. I wanted him to chase me a little.

“Keven, I wanna talk to you!” he said.I kept walking, but looked over my shoulder, giving him a sexy look.

“What?” I said.

.”Keven, come on, baby,” he said. Just get in the truck so we can talk – ok?” I smiled but kept walking, making sure to put some wiggle in my ass. Suddenly he accelerated and pulled up in front of me, blocking my path. He jumped out of the car and ran up on me, taking my arm firmly in his big hand. I tried to pull away but his grip was like iron. He bitch walked me back to the truck and put me inside. I knew better than to try and run – it would just really piss him off and – well – who knows what he would do?

He drove off and I folded my arms and sulked. He reached over and pinched my jaws in his hand, so tight that it hurt. “Don’t pout, Juera, he said harshly. “What the fuck is the matter with you, Keven?”

I shook my head. “Nothin'” I answered.

“It’s just that… well I’ve been lookin for you all night!”Jose pulled over and pulled me close and kissed me deeply. Oh GOD! Now I just KNEW I was in love! “Honey, I got a motel room,” I blurted out. “We can go there, if you want. I don’t have to be back until Monday.”

When we got to the motel, I couldn’t help but see the desk clerk staring. I started talking loud and laughing, because I wanted him to see what a handsome MAN I had. As soon as we got in the room I let my shorts fall to the ground and stood there naked.. Abel had stripped off too, and was standing in the dimly lit room, his bull like body, muscley and sweaty. I came up to him and ran my fruity little hands all over his gorgeous body, and then I licked and kissed his buff chest. His strong hands cupped my bare buttocks and we kissed. Then he picked me up and carried me completely naked to the bed.

We were lying side by side, kissing and making out. Abel’s cock was rock hard. So was my little dick. As we made love, I kept squeezing my man’s hard penis, choking it down near the base. I got down between his big meaty legs and began sucking his cock and balls. He raised his legs, exposing his very hairy anus. “Kiss it, puto,” he said. My face was right next to his ass hole. I sniffed it and began to eat him out! He groaned in pleasure as I hungrily nibbled and tongued out his rectum. Suddenly he lowered his legs and pulled me to him.

“What is it, honey?” I asked him. “Don’t you like it?”

“I love it, marica, but I want to fuck you now.” He took a small tub of vaseline from the bedside table. “Here – grease up my cock, bitch.” I did like he said. Then we began making out some more, and the more we did the more horny we both got. Abel got on top of me and was passionately kissing on my ears and neck and tits. I began sobbing. “What’s wrong?” he whispered.

“Oh, honey,” I sobbed. “Am I like a woman?”

“You’re ALL woman, baby,” he told me.

“No – but am I YOU’RE woman?” I asked.

“You are about to be,” he said, raising my legs up over his broad shoulders. I could feel the hardness of his raw meat poking near my rectum. I got scared.

“Honey, is it gonna hurt? Please don’t hurt me, honey,” I begged.

“Gonna hurt GOOD, baby,” he growled, his rough sandpaper jaw nuzzling my soft neck.

“Sweetie, I don’t think I’m ready yet – I don’t think we shou–” My words were choked of by a searing pain in my anus as the big mushroom head of his rigid cock ripped into me. I screamed in pain and tried to get out from under him, but I was totally helpless – that’s how strong he was. I thought I was gonna pass out the pain was so bad, and then it began to subside as the head slid in deeper and deeper, until I felt his pubis bump up against mine. He was in, balls deep. My cherry had been popped! ‘This is what it feels like to be a woman!’ I thought.

Abel began fucking me with long, slow strokes. I began moving my hips in time with his rhythm. He was kissin all over me and I was babbling all sorts of filth – every vulgar, filthy sexual thought spewed from my mouth, like diarreah. I could feel his strong arms around me so tight I thought he would crack my ribs – and I didn’t give a fuck! THIS is what I had been born to be – woman – a whore!

Now we were two naked human beings, together as one, the headboard of our mating bed was pounding against the wall and I was whining and yelling in pure sexual JOY, my skinny white legs wrapped around my mister’s bull like neck. Finally, Abel’s entire body tensed and he shouted out in pleasure as he emptied his load deep into my guts. Slowly he relaxed and soon lay over me.

We spent the rest of the weekend in bed. It was like a honeymoon. I was SO in love! When Abel dropped me off at the bus station on Monday morning, we kissed and he promised to see me again next weekend. But I never saw him again. I know he was married, and that he’d been in and out of prison, but that was it for us. I cried for weeks, but eventually I got over him. I hated myself for being weak – for being a faggot – and I swore that, from now on I was going completely straight!

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