Feature Writer: Boxlicker101

Feature Title: ANGEL 1

Published: 13.10.2007

Story Codes: Transgender

Synopsis: Chapter 1: A T-girl’s Feminization – This is the first of a new series I will be starting. Please let me know what you think of the story. I expect to be adding new chapters over the rest of this year – The boy has become the woman she was truly meant to be …

Author’s Notes: Thank you for reading the first chapter of the story of Angel Jones. I hope you had as much fun as she and George did, at least while they were still ensconced on that sofa. I like writing stories on Literotica, but I like it a lot more when I know that people are reading and enjoying them, and I appreciate it when readers take the time to express their opinions by voting. Like most authors on Literotica, I practically live for feedback from readers, either public comments or email to me. Such feedback, whether praise or criticism, helps me to write more and better stories, including more of this series, and I respond to it whenever I can.

Angel 1

On her eighteenth birthday, fresh from her shower, Angel Jones looked at her nude reflection in the full-length mirror in her bedroom, and was mostly pleased with what she saw. Her blonde hair, down past her shoulders and still growing, was soft and shiny, and all that she could have asked for. She had always had very smooth, fair skin and, by the age of 16, had not developed a beard. It appeared she never would, which was a relief to her. The very mild hormone treatments she had begun right after her sixteenth birthday had worked perfectly in that regard. Since she was now 18 years old, she would be able to start taking the full-strength treatment.

The hormones seemed to be working perfectly in other places also. Between them and the oils and lotions she applied regularly, the skin all over her body was just as soft and smooth and creamy as that on her face. She inspected under her arms and found some wispy stubble, which was starting to grow back after her shaving there the previous week. This was alright; women usually had hair under their arms, so there was nothing unfeminine about it. As long as she shaved there when needed, it would not detract from her appearance.

Leaning closer to the mirror, Angel inspected her torso for body hair, and was quite elated when she found none that was unwanted. A close inspection was necessary because any hair would be even finer and lighter in color than that on her head. An equally careful inspection of her legs revealed none, although she expected to eventually find some there, since all her older female relatives had some hair growing on their calves. Her legs would also be shaved as needed. She had a pink electric razor, the most feminine-appearing one on the market, which she used under her arms, and she would use for that purpose also.

There was some hair on her body, of course, a soft blonde thatch just above and beside what she still called her cock. One small disappointment she had experienced since beginning the counseling and hormone therapy was that it and her testicles hadn’t somehow disappeared, nor had they even shrunk. It would have been unrealistic to expect them to do either, and she knew that, but sometimes Angel fantasized that they had been replaced by the beautiful pink and white pussy that should have been her birthright. The pubic hair was perfectly normal, for either a man or woman, and she was not concerned about it. Some day she might trim it or even shave it all off, but that day had not arrived yet.

Angel cupped her hands under her breasts and compared their size to what they had been during her last inspection, three months earlier. Although still not as big as she was hoping for, they had definitely grown since then. The doctor who had provided the hormone capsules had mentioned the possibility of implants, but he hadn’t recommended them. Angel had decided against such artificiality. For one thing, the T-girls whose nude pictures he showed her looked unnatural with implants, their chests resembling two grapefruit halves sitting on a platter. Having small, natural breasts was better than looking like that. For another thing, all the women on both sides of Angel’s family were quite bosomy and she hoped that, after the added female hormones had overpowered the natural male ones in her body, the genes she had inherited would take over and she would have breasts to be proud of. Angel hadn’t achieved that yet, but she could tell she was getting closer, and the stronger treatments she would be getting should help to increase their size.

She liked to end her body inspections on a positive note if she could, and Angel knew how to do it. Stepping back again and facing the mirror, she ran her hands down her hips. They were still fairly narrow; the bone structure would never change, but new fatty tissue was building them up, even as she watched it seemed, causing them to spread out nicely from her slender waist. Angel turned sideways to admire the cheeks of her ass, which were the most womanly part of her body. As on her hips, fat was being deposited there and, also like her hips, they flared sexily from her waist, curving out and around and back, forming soft globes where they joined her legs. Even now, that part of her body drew admiring glances from men, and Angel hoped it would continue to do so.

Her inspection complete, Angel put her clothes on, starting with the lacy white French knickers she favored, followed by the clear, thigh-high stockings and the short, tight skirt that flattered her hips and ass and legs. She considered her legs to be too long; she was almost six feet tall, but she also knew there could be advantages, if she was able to move gracefully, even in heels. Angel had hopes of some day being an entertainer on stage, and her height could be a definite advantage there.

Her padded bra matched the panties, and she donned that next. Although Angel would never have implants, she saw nothing wrong with wearing padding where it was needed, until her breasts reached their proper growth. The last thing she put on was her sheer, silky white blouse. Her clothing and her entire appearance shouted out her femininity, which was as she wanted it. Her counselor had advised her that the hormones and other treatments could give her a female appearance but, equally important, would be learning to think and act as a woman, after having been raised as a boy. Angel had taken the counselor’s advice completely to heart. Everything about her, from her long, blonde hair, to her sexy clothing, to the teddies and babydolls she slept in, to the fact that that she always sat on the toilet, told herself and the world that she was a woman, and proud of it.

With her smooth, fair complexion, Angel didn’t need much makeup, but she did apply a minimal amount, after she was through dressing. Soft red lipstick, a bit of blush on her cheeks and a touch of eye shadow to frame her beautiful, blue eyes was enough. Angel’s face, with that skin and those eyes and her delicate features was already lovely, and the intent was to emphasize that, rather than to hide any flaws. In addition, she considered a bit of makeup to be an integral part of her feminization.

Her shoes were another part. Because of her natural height, Angel had no need for high heels, but she didn’t like the idea of wearing flat heels when dressed the way she was. A compromise was two inch heels, which were high enough to be feminine, but not high enough to be awkward or to make her excessively tall. Just before going out, she dabbed a drop of flower-scented cologne on her wrists and the pulse spots of her throat. With everything ready, she picked up her purse from the dresser and walked out the door of her parents’ flat, down the stairs and out into the street.

Angel had two reasons for going out that day. First, every time she walked out on the street dressed as she was, it helped to solidify her femaleness in her own mind and, she hoped, in the minds of the neighbors or anyone else who might happen to see her. More importantly, at least on that day, she was going to leave an employment application at a local bank. William Parker, her favorite sixth form teacher, had suggested it, and had given her a letter of recommendation addressed to his brother, who was the head of personnel at the branch in town. It was no guarantee, but the recommendation would go a long way, and Angel hoped she would be able to eventually get a transfer to the main office in London, and be that much closer to her real objective.

Angel had always been fond of Mr. Parker, the teacher, who was tall and athletic but, during the last few months, her feelings had taken a new direction. If she had been younger, Angel might have thought of the attraction as a schoolgirl crush, but she considered herself too old to have such things. Whatever it was, she had started having explicitly carnal thoughts of him, even sexual desires, and guiltily cherished those thoughts and desires. They were on her mind a lot, although she didn’t know how they could ever come to fruition, especially since she had graduated from sixth form, and hadn’t seen him for almost a month.

She had never had either a girl friend or a boy friend, or any really close friends of any kind. As a young boy in primary school, she had never felt anything in common with other young boys. They had always seemed too crude and brash and, although she had tried, there had never been any enjoyment for her in their rough games. Lee Seymour, which had been her name then, had always felt a stronger kinship with girls, but had been rebuffed by those who knew him. Most girls of that age don’t really like boys very much, at least most boys, and Lee did not appeal enough to them to be one of the exceptions.

Secondary school and the related sixth form were much worse, with the most dreadful part being the physical education classes, and the worst part of them being the showers afterward. Lee was terrified and incredibly embarrassed at crowding into the shower with a bunch of naked boys, although he would have been unable to explain why. He tried, with no success, to conceal his own nudity and avoid noticing that of the others. Finally, he had confided in his parents, with no benefit. They had chided him, saying “What’s the matter? You’re all just guys.” Their reaction had done nothing to mollify his extreme discomfort.

A series of sessions with the psychologist on retainer with the school had helped much more. That doctor had suspected the reason fairly early and, after considerable research and discussion, had showed his patient case histories of female-to-male transsexuals or, as they often preferred to call themselves, T-girls. Reading those histories was an epiphany to Lee because he saw a great deal of himself in every one of them. After extensive physical and psychological testing, the doctor concluded that this truly was an example of a mistake of nature, a girl born into a boy’s body.

That mistake could be corrected to a degree and, shortly after her sixteenth birthday, Angel Jones, using the name she had chosen, began her therapy, including ingesting very mild hormone capsules. Technically speaking, she should not have been provided with even those, because she was underage. However, the doctor was an independent thinker, who believed the treatments were necessary to counteract the heavy dosage of male hormones her body was giving itself, and provided them for her anyhow. She chose the surname because it was her mother’s maiden name, and she had relatives who already used it, but it was sufficiently common that it would not be associated with her family. “Angel” seemed to be an obvious first name because of her fair complexion and because of the resemblance of her blonde hair to a halo.

Wanting to be completely straightforward and believing he owed her the information, the doctor also described her sexual wants and needs and possible activities as a T-girl, even including masturbation. The latter was no different from what she had done as a boy, but Angel was dismayed at being told of what she might do with men. She had heard of such things, sucking a man’s penis or being anally penetrated by it, but they had always been described to her as something that gay men do. Angel already thought of herself as a girl or young woman, and had never thought of herself as being gay. Although she had no animosity toward them, she did have difficulties understanding people who wanted to have sex with others of the same gender. However, she also realized the limitations her body would have and conceded that, after she fell in love with a man and he fell in love with her and they were married, that would be what their sexual activities would involve.

To her great relief, the doctor also ordered her withdrawn from the physical education classes she hated so much. As a girl, she couldn’t attend the boys’ classes and, as the possessor of a penis, she couldn’t attend the girls’ classes either. That was fine with Angel, but not so fine was the ostracism she faced from her schoolmates. Once she changed from the gray school uniform trousers and white shirt to the gray skirt and white middy blouse, the boys were openly contemptuous. They had tolerated Lee Seymour as being a rather useless twit but, after the change, they thought, contemptuously, of Angel What’s-her-name, as being the worst kind of pouf, one who dressed like a girl and even pretended to be one.

This was not much of a problem because she had never liked any of them anyhow, but the girls were something of a disappointment. They had never had much use for Lee either, but they had even less for Angel. They thought of her as being a boy in disguise, even though she was prettier than any of them, and she never became a part of any girls’ clubs or cliques or associations or anything else extracurricular. Angel was lonely, but took solace in knowing that she was finally the person she was meant to be, and took pains to be as good as possible at being that person.

Because of her high intelligence and lack of a social life to distract her, Angel excelled in her classes. As her graduation date neared, she was the top student in her class, and her scholastic achievements came to the attention of Mr. William Parker, a teacher and career counselor, who foresaw an outstanding career in finance for her. He wanted to talk to her and advise her but, before he did that, he examined her school records, and learned that she was a transexual, who had adopted her current name when she started to undergo the sex change. To him, this fact was not relevant, nor did he think it would matter to most prospective employers.

At the conference he arranged with her, after some friendly chatting, he said “You have really excellent grades, the best in your class. How do you manage that?”

“Well, I don’t have much of a social life, so I have plenty of time for studying.”

“Not much of a social life? Why is that?”

Angel was not in any of Mr. Parker’s classes, and she had only seen him from a distance until that day. She had always thought of him as being quite handsome but, in the more intimate confines of his office, she quickly started to feel a strong attraction, even sexual desires toward him. This was a new and decidedly pleasant experience for her. Any deception, she decided, would be a waste of time, because he probably knew a lot about her anyhow, so she told him the main factor that made her unusual.

“I’m a T-girl. A transsexual. The boys think I’m a pouf, and want nothing to do with me, and the girls think I’m a boy snooping on them, and they want nothing to do with me either. I think of myself as a woman, or almost a woman, although I was born a boy.”

“I know that, Angel, and I’m glad you trust me enough to talk to me about it. In school, even a big one like this one, there can be a lot of problems, especially with students who knew you as a boy and now have a hard time believing you really have become a girl. Once you get out into the real world and start working, there will still be problems, but not like you have experienced here.”

“I’m glad to hear that, and my doctor and counselors have told me the same thing. I expect to start working after I finish sixth form, but I don’t know where.”

“I have a suggestion, if you’re interested. My brother is the personnel manager at the local branch of a London bank. I notice that you have done exceptionally good work in your math classes and business classes, and I’m sure you would do quite well there. They are always looking to hire bright, young persons like yourself, and I can put in a word for you.”

“Thank you. I would really appreciate that.”

Angel meant that sincerely and the phsical attraction she had started to feel for William Parker grew even stronger. She had never been involved in sexual activity of any kind at all, either as a boy or as a T-girl. As a boy, there had never been any interest in girls, nor had Lee been appealing to them. The attraction of boys, especially her schoolmates, was even less, but the person across the desk from her was no rough and impudent boy. He was kind and understanding, besides being the most handsome man she had ever met. His age, probably as great as that of her father, she thought of as being of no importance.

She had no great regard for her virginity. In fact, Angel considered her lack of worldly experience to be a drawback, and sex as being something she had been cheated out of so far. Too shy and nervous to flirt with him, and not knowing how to do it anyhow, the only thing Angel could do was to fervently hope that William Parker would try to seduce her. Had he made such an attempt, he would have enjoyed total success. However, either he was not aware of what she hoped for, or he was too honorable to take advantage of her, which is what he would have considered any attempt at seduction. Angel left his office with her virginity intact, and possessing a letter of introduction to George Parker, the personnel manager of the local branch of the big London bank.

That same letter was folded neatly and inserted in a clean, white envelope and placed protectively in Angel’s purse on the morning she went to call on George Parker. From her personal inspection in the mirror and from the looks she got from men on the street, she knew she looked her best, but hoped her appearance was businesslike besides being attractive. Had she been calling on his brother, her sexual desirability would have been foremost in her mind, but she had never met George Parker, and was only concerned with making an impression on him as somebody he would want to hire.

“Mr. Parker, there’s a Miss Angel Jones here to see you,” his assistant informed George Parker, handing him the envelope she had received from the applicant.

“Thank you, Deborah. Send her in.”

He already knew what the contents of the envelope said but he opened it, unfolded it and spread it on his desk. His brother had called and told him to expect Angel, because she would turn eighteen years old that day. He had mentioned that she was a transsexual, but had not given any description of her. George was not thrilled at the idea, and expected somebody with broad shoulders and a lantern jaw to come clumping into his office. He was amazed, even flabbergasted, when his assistant ushered the tall, slender and exquisitely beautiful Miss Jones through the door.

He was not the only one surprised. Angel was still infatuated by William Parker, and even fantasized about him while she masturbated but, from that moment forward, his image was crowded out of her mind by that of his taller, more ruggedly handsome brother. When George greeted her in his very masculine baritone voice, and offered her a seat, she was captivated. If he had sexually propositioned her, which he didn’t, of course, she would have avidly agreed.

Their conversation was something of a formality. Even without the strong endorsement of his brother, George Parker would have hired the lovely young woman for almost any position she might have asked for. What he offered her was a job working for him as his second assistant, starting the next day. Angel eagerly accepted it. If he had told her she had to work for no pay, she probably would have agreed to that too, just to be able to work near the man of her dreams. Of course, he didn’t do that either. The salary that was offered and accepted was the standard one for a young, starting clerk.

The next day, Angel came to work, her first day there, in a blue knit dress that hugged her curves and set off the color of her eyes. It did things to George’s eyes too, attracting them, as well as the eyes of all the men, both employees and bank customers, who saw her. The women noticed her also, and their reactions ranged from the friendliness of Deborah, George’s first assistant, to the hostile envy of her youth and beauty that was the attitude of some others. None of the people who saw her, or talked to anybody who had seen her, knew Angel was a T-girl, and she didn’t want to tell them. She would not have denied it but she also felt it was nobody’s business, as long as she did her job. Mr. Parker didn’t mention it to anybody either.

Many years earlier, on a night when he was drunk in London, he had indulged in sexual intercourse with a transsexual prostitute. She had been rather homely and lacked real breasts, but the sex had still been extremely hot and enjoyable, better than any of his other youthful escapades with women. Her ass had been very tight but she had used plenty of lubrication, and it had squeezed his cock perfectly, better than any pussy ever had, when they fucked in her loft.

Besides the great time he had, what had stayed on his mind were the kinkiness of the experience and the appearance of the prostitute. She was the only T-girl he had ever met, at least that he knew of, and he had expected Angel to resemble her. The surprise when she wasn’t even close to doing so had been an extremely pleasant one, and some interesting possibilities began to occur to him. Like his brother, George was an honorable and religious man, who was happily and securely married, but he couldn’t help the erotic thoughts that crept into his mind every day when he saw the young beauty.

Interesting possibilities were raised in Angel’s mind too, as she came to the bank five days a week to work closely with the man she thought of as being Mr. Right. She quickly became aware that he was married, and she didn’t expect him to change that for her, but was willing to settle for what she could get. Meanwhile, Angel spent as much time around him as possible, smiled, and otherwise put on a cheery appearance, and continued with her ongoing feminization. That meant always looking her prettiest, and dressing in ways that would accentuate her femaleness, such as short skirts and dresses and sheer blouses.

It also meant that the lust that George Parker felt for her increased steadily. Angel was almost always around him, and she seemed to get sexier and more beautiful every day. That was not just his imagination. As she had hoped and expected, her breasts were still growing and, six months after she started to work at the bank, the padding was no longer needed in her bra so she removed it. The other parts of her body that differentiated her from the boy she used to be were still filling out too, which meant her skirts and dresses were slowly getting tighter. Angel was aware of this, and knew she would have to replace them, and had started to do so, but she wanted to get as much wear as she could out of the older garments.

After almost eight months of constantly looking at his beautiful new assistant, George developed an obsession for her. He didn’t know if Angel was flirting with him or not. Her actions didn’t seem subtle enough to be flirting, but she was the friendliest young woman he had ever known. Even though he loved his wife, he wanted to fuck the sexy T-girl. He finally admitted that fact to himself, although he would never dare admit it to anybody else. The question of how and when occurred to him, and he didn’t have the answers, but he did buy condoms and a plastic bottle of Aqualube so he would be ready if he ever did get the chance to fuck her. They were kept securely locked in the private drawer of his desk, buried under some personal papers.

Besides being prepared in that regard, he wanted to learn everything he could about T-girls, concentrating on their sexual habits and desires. From an online site dedicated to their sexuality, he learned what they were supposed to like, both doing to men and having done to them. He learned that what he would have called her ass or anus and her cock, a sexually active T-girl would call her pussy and her clit. This was important information, if his lust were to ever be assuaged, and George made a special point of remembering it. Like most men, he liked to receive as much pleasure as he could from sex, while giving as much to his partner, so he needed know what to say and do if and when the opportunity with Angel should ever arise.

One day it did arise. After dragging herself in to work sick all week, Deborah was unable to make it to the office on Friday, which was the one day she most should have been there. The last day of the week was also the busiest, because of employee time sheets, and George and his assistants sometimes had to work overtime even when they were all there. Once he knew there would only be the two of them to do the work, George informed Angel of the need for her to stay late that evening. Smiling at him, thereby making herself even more desirable, she agreed to work overtime. The additional money would be nice but, even nicer, would be the chance to spend the evening alone with the man she idolized. Angel called her parents to tell them she would arrive home later than usual that night.

George worked faster than he normally did during the day, making sure that as many as possible of the time sheets were completed. With Deborah not there, he would be alone with Angel that evening, and he wanted to get as much of the actual work done as he could. That would be the night, he resolved, that he would try to seduce his lovely assistant, and the less time they had to spend on work, the more time they would have for what he really wanted to do. They would be working in the room that was usually shared by Angel and Deborah. This was where they always worked when staying late, because it was larger and had two desks and a table available. The room also had some chairs and an imitation leather sofa, which was where applicants sat while waiting to be called for interviews. George wanted to put the sofa to another use that evening.

At five o’clock, he walked into the room where Angel was hard at work. She smiled at him. “Hello Mr. Parker. I hope we can get through all this tonight.”

“I hope so too, Angel.”

He was carrying a large filing basket that seemed to be full of documents. Actually, in the bottom of the basket were the lubricant and the condoms he had bought earlier. George slipped them into the top drawer in Deborah’s desk, where he would be able to retrieve them later. He fervently hoped they would be put to use that evening, and he started working toward that goal immediately.

“Why don’t you call me ‘George’? It seems silly to be so formal while there are just the two of us here.” He took off his coat and tie and hung them on the coat rack next to Angel’s green blazer. He knew she was wearing a matching skirt, and hoped it would soon be hanging there also.

“Okay, er, George.”

Angel was rather surprised when George took some of the documents from the filing basket and placed them into her “In” basket. There was much less work than there had appeared to be. It would mean less overtime pay than she had been expecting and less time alone with the man of her dreams. She bent her head over the papers and began working, raising her head occasionally to look at George’s handsome head, bent studiously over his share of the time sheets. He glanced at her a few times too, admiring her long blonde hair and sweet face with its delicate features, but their eyes never met.

The time sheets were important, and involved multiple verifications, but they were not very complicated and the work went quickly. After just over an hour, Angel finished the last of her share and looked over at her boss. He was leaning back in his chair, looking at her and, this time, their eyes did meet.

“Well, that didn’t take very long,” she commented. Angel felt a bit sad that their time together was about to end.

“No, it didn’t.” George was eager to get started on what he considered the most important part of the evening. He was apprehensive, but determined to give it a try, because he didn’t expect to ever get a better chance.

Angel stood up, came around to the front of her desk and bent over slightly to straighten the things on it, as she did every night before leaving. George knew her habit, and this was what he had been waiting for. After nervously checking the desk drawer to look at the condoms and Aqualube for reassurance, he stepped quickly over behind her and gently placed the palms of his hands on her lovely shoulders. Angel was pleasantly surprised at this familiarity, and did nothing to discourage it. Instead, she straightened up and leaned back against his hands.

George had thought of this moment for a long time, and was still exercising caution. If Angel had brushed his hands away, or told him to stop, his actions could have been passed off as no more than a friendly gesture. Emboldened when she did neither, he began to gently massage her shoulders and was elated when she expressed her enjoyment of what he was doing.

“Mmmmm, that feels good,” Angel murmured.

It felt wonderful to her, both the massage and, mostly, because it was George’s hands, so kind and gentle, that were doing it for her. She rolled her shoulders, helping him, because she hoped he would keep going. He did exactly what she wanted, slowly moving his hands lower on her back and continuing his caresses, using circular motions, with his thumbs kneading between her shoulder blades. Hoping to encourage him to go much further, Angel raised her arms and backed up snugly against him, while continuing to murmur her appreciation of what he was doing.

George was extremely encouraged, and Angel felt his hands continue their slow and pleasant journey, down her sides and around toward her front, pulling her blouse from her skirt along the way. What George was doing felt so good to her, and was already so fulfilling of her erotic dreams that she wriggled her back and her curvaceous ass against him, like a kitten being petted, and the soft noises she made deep in her throat resembled the sounds of that same kitten purring.

Until then, George’s hands had stayed on the outside of Angel’s blouse but, once they reached the buttons in the front, she could feel his fingers fumbling with them, until the bottom one was opened. She was suddenly confident that she was on the threshold of losing her virginity, and didn’t want the glorious event to be delayed any more than she could help. Angel started on her own top button, and continued down until her more deft hands met George’s, just as he finished the second one from the bottom. She dropped her arms to her sides, letting the blouse fall open, and he pulled it from her shoulders and all the way off, dropping it onto the top of her desk.

George’s hands returned to Angel’s body, caressing her sides and belly, while he marveled at how soft and warm and smooth her skin was, and how the flesh underneath it was so firm. He reached forward and up, trying to squeeze the fingers of both hands under her bra. Years ago, when he had done the same thing to the other T-girl, his fingers had become buried in foam rubber, and he would have been sorely disappointed if the same thing had happened that evening.

It didn’t. “Just a minute,” Angel whispered, as she reached up behind her back to unhook her bra, pulled it off and set it on top of her blouse.

George’s hands were filled with the most wonderful breasts he had ever fondled. Although not large, they were perfectly shaped, curving softly out from her body, and down and back up, to be topped by nipples which were almost erect already, and became rigid under his fingers. As he hefted the delightful breasts, he could feel their warmth and vibrancy, and their fullness in his hands. George wanted to remove the rest of Angel’s clothing and get his cock into her as quickly as possible, but he was willing to wait until she was ready for that. He didn’t want to delay too long, though, because he could feel his erection trying to rip a hole through his trousers.

Angel could feel it too, pressing against her buttock, and it gave her a sense of pride that she had brought a man like George to such a state. He seemed to enjoy playing with her breasts, even though she had been worried they might be too small. She liked it too, the way his hands were fondling her, and Angel could feel herself getting aroused by them, and by the pressure of his stiff cock. Her own erection, much smaller than his, was also pushing against her skirt, but she wanted to conceal this vestige of her boyhood from George for as long as she could.

“What I need more than anything right now is to kiss your beautiful lips,” George told her in a voice much huskier than she had ever heard it. His hands dropped to her hips, and he seemed to be trying to turn her to face him.

Angel did what she thought he wanted, and felt George’s hands and arms slipping around her waist and pulling her against him. She responded by reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck while he bent down to press his lips against hers. Never before had she been kissed like this, and she was surprised to feel his tongue against her lips, as if trying to gain entrance. She permitted it, and was amazed at the erotic sensations that shot through her as his tongue slid into her mouth. Angel reacted by licking its underside with the tip of her own.

She wondered if George’s chest was as hairy as she had imagined it, and pulled his shirt free of his pants and started unbuttoning it. Her fingers were more nimble than his had been, and she quickly finished. They broke off the kiss, and George shucked off his shirt and tossed it onto the floor. Glad to see she had been right, Angel kissed the mass of dark curls that had been exposed, loving the sensation of them against her nose and lips. “There is a place,” she told herself, “that will feel even better against his chest, and proved it to herself by rubbing her nipples against the place she had just been kissing.

They kissed again, and this time, Angel was the aggressor, thrusting her tongue between George’s lips. With their mouths locked together, she felt him start to back up, pulling her with him, and she scuffed off her shoes and followed his lead, until the edge of the sofa was against the backs of his legs. Still kissing, George’s fingers fumbled with the button on Angel’s skirt. She pushed his hand away, finished with the button and unzipped her skirt, letting it fall to the floor. Once again they broke off their kiss as she bent down to pick it up and toss onto the arm of the sofa. She was wearing only her stockings and sheer, aqua panties, while he was fully dressed, except for his shirt.

That was something she intended to change immediately. George was leaning with the backs of his legs pressed against the edge of the sofa. Angel pushed lightly on his chest, intended as a request that he sit, and he took her suggestion. She quickly knelt between his legs, trying to keep her erection out of his sight, and reached forward to take hold of his belt buckle. After opening that, Angel unfastened and unzipped George’s trousers, slipped her fingers into the waistband, and started to pull them down. He raised himself from the sofa and Angel pulled them around his ass and down to his ankles. Before continuing, she removed his shoes and socks and, when his feet were bare, pulled his trousers all the way off and tossed them in the direction of his shirt.

The only thing George was wearing was his boxer shorts, and his cock was sticking straight up through the fly. Angel had been practicing one of the things she expected men would want and expect from a T-girl like her. She had sucked on cooked sausages, and had learned to take one quite deeply into her mouth, but what she was looking at was bigger than anything she had used for practice. Before trying to get it into her mouth, she unsnapped the waistband of the briefs and, with George helping by raising himself from the sofa, pulled them off and added them to the pile of clothing.

As he scooted toward her on the sofa, Angel leaned on his thighs and raised her head above George’s waiting cock. She lowered her face until her lips contacted it, and kissed the tip gently. The hard, velvety surface felt better than the sausages ever had, and it felt even better to her tongue as she licked all around it, and under the ridge. So far, the new experience was an extremely enjoyable one for her, especially hearing George’s murmurs of pleasure. She was proud to be bringing so much happiness to such a sweet and handsome man.

Angel lowered her head slightly more, and felt a new and different thrill as the head of his erect cock, followed by almost an inch of hard shaft, squeezed between her lips. Once again, her tongue brought pleasure to George and her, as she licked the slit at the end of his cock. She felt his thigh muscles tense up, and heard his breath drawn in suddenly between his teeth. She hoped he wouldn’t ejaculate into her mouth, because she thought of this as just preliminary fun. The main thing would be when he deflowered her by fucking her bum, and she hoped to be able to take his whole cock without too much discomfort. Other T-girls did it all the time for their men and Angel, though a bit apprehensive when she saw its size, was confident she was woman enough to do what they did.

Still moving slowly, Angel lowered her face farther until she felt the tip of George’s cock touch against the back of her mouth. She didn’t want to take it any deeper, at least not this first time. More than anything else, she wanted to avoid choking or gagging as she had once done from thrusting a sausage firmly against that same place. Briefly, she kept his cock where it was, reveling in the feel of the firm roundness as it spread her lips and filled her mouth, and in the skin that was pulled so tightly around its hardness. Her tongue continued to caress the bottom and the sides of his shaft, as far along it as she could reach. Although she tried, she was unable to curl it around to lick the top.

Angel raised her face until she felt the ridge around the head of George’s cock against the inside of her lips. She paused there a few seconds and lowered her head again, squeezing with her lips, until the tip pressed once more against the back of her mouth, where she stayed for a few seconds. Once more, she raised her head, but this time, she took his cock out of her mouth and smiled, looking up at George with her pretty, blue eyes, while she held it her fingers.

“That was wonderful, Angel. I’ve never felt anything so good.” It may or may not have been flattery, but Angel took it at face value.

“I’m glad you liked it. I did too, but right now, I’d like to go further.”

She hoped he would know what she meant. Regardless of the extremely intimate things they had already done, Angel was too shy to tell George she wanted to fuck. She also hoped that, in the future, when the opportunity arose, she would be able to suck him off. His cock filling her mouth the way it had was one of the high points of Angel’s life, and she wanted to do it as often as possible, but to bring him to a climax next time.

He did understand, at least the first part. “I want to go further too, all the way. Lie down on the sofa here. I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time, ever since we met, and I’ve got some things we’ll need to use.” George started toward the desk drawer where the Aqualube and condoms had been stashed, but he stopped on his way, picked up Angel’s skirt from the sofa, and hung it on the coat rack next to her blazer.

When he returned, Angel was lying face down on the sofa, still wearing her knickers, but having removed her stockings. While admiring her truly gorgeous ass in the tight, sheer garment, George rolled a condom onto his cock, which was still wet from her mouth. With that done, he slipped his fingers into the waistband and started to pull them off. Angel quickly slid her own hands down the front, so she could cover her erection and hold it out of the way while her knickers were being removed. Especially with George, she wanted to emphasize her femininity as much as possible, and she felt there could be nothing less feminine on a woman than a stiff cock. Once she was completely naked, with the last garment draped over a sofa arm, Angel held her erection in her hand and lay on top of it so, once the fucking started, she would be able to stroke herself until she reached her climax.

“Reach back here and spread yourself open, Sweetheart,” George directed her. “I’ll need to put some lubricant in you.”

Almost euphoric at the term of endearment, Angel did as he asked, spreading her legs as far apart as she could on the sofa and holding her ass cheeks apart to expose the place that was about to be deflowered.

“Your pussy is really beautiful, Angel. You are a beautiful woman all over.”

Her pussy! George had referred to her pussy! And he was right! “After all,” she told herself. “I am a woman, and women have pussies. And that part back there that’s about to be fucked is my pussy. And, if I have a pussy, I must have a clit too. It’s in my hand! My clit is in my hand!” From that moment forward, Angel referred to her pussy and her clit, and never thought of herself as lacking either.

Her thoughts were interrupted by something being pushed into her newly-identified pussy, followed by a sudden cool sensation, which she realized was the lubricant that had been mentioned. Next came a brand new thrill, the latest of many that had come her way that evening, something long and narrow — George’s finger! – poking into her and spreading the lubricant inside her pussy. Previously, the only thing that had ever been inserted into there had been her own soapy fingers while she was taking a shower. That had been fun, but George’s finger felt so much better. Best of all, soon there would be something inside her that would feel many times better than his finger.

“She does have a really beautiful pussy,” George told himself, as he applied lubricant to his cock and gazed at the tiny hole Angel was holding open for him. “The skin inside her ass cheeks is as smooth and creamy as her face, and that cute, pink hole looks just like a rosebud.” Angel was holding open the lower ends of her cheeks, so George took hold of the upper ends and spread them apart, watching the rosebud blossom for him.

With the thumb and fingers of one hand holding her open, he guided his cock with his other hand until the end was pressing against the small hole. To spread the lubricant better, he rubbed the tip back and forth against the Aqualube he had applied to what he thought of as her rosebud. When he was satisfied they were both ready, he wiggled his cock, while pressing it firmly against the opening, until it popped through, and was inside Angel. She moaned as she felt the penetration.

“Are you okay, Sweetheart? Does it hurt?”

“No. I mean, yes, I’m okay. No, it doesn’t hurt. It feels good.”

Her answers were truthful enough; Angel was much more than just okay. Although the initial penetration had produced some pain, it had been a dull pain, and was easily outweighed by the warm, romantic feeling she got from hearing George call her “Sweetheart” for the second time. Even that small amount of initial pain faded quickly, and evolved into pleasure, which was becoming more intense by the second. Angel continued to hold her pussy open, wanting George to stick as much of his cock into her as he could. She felt very feminine, and very confident that she could take it all.

She didn’t have to wait very long. She heard George grunt softly, and felt another small part of his shaft squeeze into her. There was no pain at all that time, only another rush of pleasure from where he had spread open her pussy. What was happening to her was a completely new experience, and she couldn’t think of anything that had ever felt as good. She twisted her head back to look at him and to speak to him.

“That feels really good, George. And it keeps getting better. Please don’t stop.”

He had no intention of stopping. It felt really good to him too, and was getting better. Angel’s pussy was the tightest and most beautiful place his cock had ever been. Another firm push drove almost another inch into the hole where it was being made so welcome. George was rewarded by an even louder and more blissful moan.

His hard, thick shaft was stretching her tight opening, and the head of his cock was burrowing into her, expanding the walls of the channel it was stuffing so well. Extreme pleasure flooded Angel’s body from these two places but, best of all, was the way his cock was starting to massage her prostate gland. Waves of joy swept through her from even the fairly small and very indirect contact that had been made so far. Her clit was fully erect, and Angel wanted to reach under herself to stroke it, but her hands were occupied in holding her pussy open. She didn’t want to do anything to reduce the incredible sensations George’s big cock was giving her, so she moved around on the sofa to adjust the position of her clit. Her movements sent even greater waves from her pussy to saturate her whole body, evoking more and louder moans.

Everything that was happening on the sofa was making George feel great too. The pussy of the lovely young T-girl was squeezing his cock better than anything in his experience. Her movements under him sent pleasure throbbing repeatedly through his cock and swirling through his whole being. He also recognized her moans and the writhing of her body as being expressions of the sexual enjoyment he was giving her, and he felt almost as good about that.

His cock was embedded deeply enough in that wonderful pussy that George could take his hands from her ass cheeks and place them on Angel’s hips. The soft, smooth skin felt erotic against his fingers, and he was able to pull her toward himself, while driving in most of the rest of his cock. Her body started pitching and rolling from side to side on the sofa, while he slowly drew his shaft almost all the way out, paused and plunged it most of the way back into her pussy. As she felt it surging into her that time, Angel moaned, even louder than before, and the movements of her body became more erratic. The next stroke was just as slow and even deeper, and produced the same reaction from the young beauty. George took even more pride in the fact that he was giving Angel as much enjoyment as she was giving him.

In fact, he was giving her more than she ever could have imagined possible. Nothing in her experience had prepared her for the enormous pleasure of having the virginal entrance to her pussy spread open or the walls of the adjacent channel expanded by the hard cylinder that was slowly surging in and out of her. Best of all was what that cock was doing to her prostate gland as it continually massaged and caressed her there.

Because of the extreme tightness of Angel’s pussy, George used many short strokes of his cock. By the time he finally got it all the way inside her and was ready to start fucking with the long, slow strokes he knew would be best, the Aqualube was fully liquefied and spread through the entire part of the channel he was stuffing. She was just as tight, but there was no friction at all. Once again, he slowly drew out his cock, until just the head was still inside Angel, and drove it back into her, all the way until his pubic hair was brushing against the insides of her cheeks. George smiled as Angel fucked back to meet him, making it so much better for both of them. He had been kneeling between her legs, but he lay down on top of her and prepared for a long, slow, and absolutely delightful session.

Angel had already had many new experiences that evening, each one seeming to be better than the last, and the best one yet was having George’s body lying on her back, with his cock plunging in and out of her pussy. He was actually supporting his weight on his knees and elbows so she moved freely under him, and the intense pleasure caused her to thrash about. Everything was wonderful, from what his cock was doing for her pussy and prostrate gland to the way it felt when the hair on his chest rubbed against the sensitive skin on her back. She could tell, by the way George’s cock was gliding in and out, that she would no longer need to hold her pussy open so Angel brought her hands up to rest by her face. Every time she felt one of the many long strokes surging into her, she reflexively pushed with her hands against the sofa to thrust back to meet it.

As wonderful as it was already, it kept getting better. George’s cock was going in so deeply that the surrounding pubic hair tickled the puckered area of her pussy. Her moans turned to whimpers from the exquisite pleasure of everything that was happening. Over and over, he drew back and stroked forward, and she fucked back to meet him, eliciting the same sounds of bliss from her, while George sighed in pleasure. For a long time, they shared the same kind of slow, deep strokes, while expressing their bliss in a duet.

Angel’s clit was under her, squeezed between her body and the sofa cushion. As she fucked back and slid forward from the impetus of George’s thrusts into her, it rubbed against the imitation leather, adding to her pleasure, until she climaxed, ejaculating onto the cushion and smearing the sticky semen onto her belly. George didn’t know about her cumming and ejaculating, of course, and he wouldn’t have stopped even if he had. As they continued fucking, Angel felt her clit stiffening again, and minutes later, it was as hard as it had been before her climax.

He didn’t know what had happened to her clit, but George knew that he would be cumming soon. For better leverage and stronger strokes, he held onto her shoulders, and it helped him fuck Angel harder and faster. She responded by matching his speed, thrusting her pussy back to meet him and envelop his cock. Her pleasure mounted even more rapidly and she could already feel her clit throbbing under her, as her second climax quickly built up inside her groin.

George was even closer to cumming. Angel’s pussy was just as tight as ever but his cock slid in and out easily, while its entire length was squeezed by the muscles that ringed the opening and lined the walls of her love channel. Seeing the way Angel’s body thrashed on the sofa and rocked from side to side, and hearing her moans and other sounds of bliss added immensely to the ecstasy that he knew was imminent. Pleasure welled up, seemingly even from his toes and fingers, and concentrated in his groin. He started driving his cock even harder and faster into her pussy. Suddenly, his climax burst through, and George filled his condom with semen. After the first ejaculation, he continued fucking, but at a slower pace, until he was through cumming.

The powerful strokes had an effect on his partner also. As he rammed his cock into her, Angel’s clit was pounded harder and faster against the sofa, until her climax overtook her, and she ejaculated at almost the same time as George. Her semen gushed under her and on her, and didn’t stop spurting until he stopped fucking her.

That wasn’t the only thing that happened then. His lust for Angel’s sexy young body was finally slaked, and George had a sudden attack of conscience. “Why am I doing this?” he asked himself. “Why am I dallying here with this girl? And she — or he- or whatever, isn’t even a real girl.”

His cock had barely started to soften, but he yanked it roughly from Angel’s pussy, got off the sofa, and peeled off his condom so he could wrap it in one of the job application forms that were on the table. He would throw the bundle in a garbage can somewhere. Forgotten completely were the desires he had felt for the last eight months, and the planning and preparations that had resulted in this evening of mutually pleasurable sex. Although he had derived tremendous enjoyment from his tryst with Angel, he put that out of his mind too. All he could think of was that he had sullied himself with an unnatural act. Turning his back to hide his genitals from her, he went about the room collecting his clothing and started putting it on.

Angel lay on the sofa, watching as George got dressed. Her pussy was distended and sore after the workout he had given it, but she felt wonderful. Her first sexual experience had been tremendous, better than she had ever dreamed it could be. Angel hoped there would be many more like it, every time she and George had a chance to get together. They probably wouldn’t be able to do it on Saturday or Sunday, but she was already thinking about what they might do on Monday or the rest of next week. If Deborah was still out sick, it should be fairly easy; if not, they would have to wait and watch for their opportunities and take advantage of them.

George Parker’s thoughts were in a much different vein. Looking over at his beautiful young assistant, he was assailed by guilt. “How could I, a good, Christian man, have betrayed my wife and family like that,” he asked himself.

Suddenly, he realized how. “It was Angel Jones! She’s Jezebel! She’s a harlot, who led me astray, and in the most wicked way possible. Look at her even now, lying on the sofa with her face down, showing off her nakedness and trying to tempt me into committing sodomy with her again. But, I will be strong, and I won’t let have her way with me.”

He turned his back on her so he wouldn’t have to look at the sexy body that she had used so successfully to lead him astray. “You’d better get dressed,” he told her. “It’s getting late. I’ll have to lock up, and I have a long way to drive home.”

Angel wondered why he had addressed her in such a brusque way, but she didn’t worry about it. “Can you give me a ride home? It’s not very far, but I’m pretty sore, and I might have some trouble walking.”

“She’s looking for sympathy,” George told himself. “As a good Christian, even though the harlot sinned against me and my family in the vilest way, I must return good for evil.”

“Alright, but hurry up.”

Angel did hurry, and got up to start getting dressed. Using a handful of the application forms, she wiped her semen off the cushions. She could see that George was impatient, and couldn’t help wondering why, after the marvelous experience they had just shared. After putting on the skirt and blazer that were hanging on the coat rack, she decided against wearing her shoes and stockings, because it would be easier for her to walk barefoot rather than limp unsteadily on the heels she had worn to work. With some difficulty, she crossed the room and started down the hall that led to the back door, wondering why George made no offer to help her.

He did hold the employee exit door open while she went outside and, after setting the alarm, he closed and locked it behind them. “My car is this way,” he informed Angel, without looking at her, and started walking rapidly across the parking lot.

With considerable difficulty, and with the rough surface hurting her bare feet, Angel hobbled after him as well as she could. At least he held the passenger door on his car for her to get in, before walking around to the driver’s side. She was also a bit disappointed that the car was equipped with bucket seats. She wouldn’t be able to sit close to the man who had just shown her paradise, but Angel said nothing as she waited for him to start the engine and drive her home. The directions were simple, and the distance was short. The car pulled up in front of the building, and stopped, but George left the engine running and did not get out and help her exit. Still sore and with difficulty moving, Angel got out on her own, still carrying her shoes and stockings, and closed the door. As soon as she had done so, the automobile pulled away while she stood on the sidewalk watching it.

As Angel walked slowly to the front door, it occurred to her why her new boy friend was acting that way. He was concerned with his reputation and with hers, she reasoned. A supervisor, giving an employee a ride home at night, would not usually open her door or walk her to the front step, while a lover would. George must want to keep their true relationship a secret, Angel decided. She conveniently dismissed from her mind his rude behavior even before getting into the auto.

Once she was safely inside, Angel was already looking forward to Monday, hoping for a chance at another rendezvous. Her parents inquired as to why she was having difficulty walking, and she explained she had clumsily twisted her ankle on the doorstep. They did not pursue the subject. Generally speaking, they thought of her as an embarrassment and wanted to have as little to do with her as they could. Her parents had felt that way ever since she started undergoing her sex change treatments, and hoped she would move out soon. Besides being sore Angel was tired and, after a shower to wash the semen off her body and the excess Aqualube from her pussy and legs, she went to bed.

Her soreness disappeared over the weekend and, on Monday morning, she walked from home to work again, eager to see George and continue their new relationship. Angel realized she would have to address him as Mr. Parker, in order to hide its nature. She wore the same kind of ultra-feminine clothing that she always did, but this time, when she greeted her supervisor, he looked at her coldly and disapprovingly.

George Parker had done some thinking and some justifying over the weekend about what happened on Friday night. He came to the conclusion that the harlot, Angel Jones, had done more than bewitch him and lure him into betraying his wife and committing the unspeakable sin of sodomy. She had endangered his future with the bank, and maybe even the bank itself. Although he had been the victim of her beauty and her wiles, and was innocent of any kind of wrong-doing, some might not see it that way. If the slut were to tell his supervisors about their escapades, he would almost certainly be sacked. Even worse, if she were to make up some tale of sexual harassment, the bank might be plundered by her lawsuit, unjustified though it would be.

He did think he had a way to prevent any of those things from happening, and called her into his office later in the morning. Happily, Angel answered his summons, closing the door after herself. Deborah was on her coffee break, and this would be their chance for further intimacies. She stood by his chair, smiling at him and ready to drop to her knees and open his pants, should that be what he wanted. Angel placed an affectionate hand on his shoulder, but he pushed it away and told her to sit in the chair in front of his desk, facing him with more than six feet between them.

“Angel, I remember you saying something about possibly transferring to the London main office if the chance ever arose.” This was a reference to a conversation a few weeks after Angel started.

“Yes, I did say something about that, but I’m really quite happy here.” That was the truth, but Angel was somewhat perplexed about the coldness that was being displayed toward her that morning.

“You may be happy, but I’m not. There must never be a repetition of what you did to me on Friday. I was weak and you took advantage of me but it will never happen again. I’m willing to expedite a transfer to the main office, if you want one. The alternative is for you to be immediately transferred out of this department to another one where I won’t see you any more.”

Angel was crestfallen. “But, I thought you liked me. I thought you liked what we did as much as I did.”

“You enticed me into doing something I never should have allowed myself to do. You lured me into sins of the flesh, but I have repented, and I will never allow it to happen again. Make up your mind which you choose to do.”

Angel made up her mind quickly. George Parker’s open hostility toward her brought back previously ignored memories of just how lacking in affection he had been after their mutual climaxes on the sofa, and of his rude indifference to her needs. There had been no physical contact of any kind after he finished doing what he wanted to her, not even an offer of assistance, even though she was sore and could barely walk. The ride home had been just a chore, an obligation that had to be done quickly.

“I’d rather transfer to London.” She would have said more, but thought it prudent to control her feelings.

“Good. I’ll start the paperwork going this morning, and you should be on your way there by the end of next week. Now, go back to work, and don’t tell anybody about what you did to me on Friday.

Angel did go back to her desk, and she did get back to work. She was unhappy about what had just happened, until she realized something. George Parker was a rat and a cad. He had used her, and cast her aside, and she was a million times better off never having anything more to do with him, never even seeing him, if she could help it. The attraction to him had seemed strong, but it evaporated completely that morning.

She did have to admit, however, that while she was being used by him, she had enjoyed it as much as he had, maybe even more. Angel hoped to indulge in the same activities with men in London, if there were any available for her. But, the next time, she would choose more carefully, and avoid personal entanglements with people she knew at work. Angel smiled, already looking forward to her new life in the metropolis.


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