Michele cleaned herself up as best she could in the bedroom; she only had the small sink but the water was hot and she had some face cloths and towels. She checked the door again and was happy that the chair jammed against the door handle would hold. She shucked out of her skirt and blouse, and her come-stained knickers and hose. She removed her wig and washed off her makeup. She was Mike again; the lean rangy youth whose uncle sat in the next room drinking himself into oblivion.

Mike spent a restless night but managed to fall asleep in the early hours just before dawn. When he woke up it was nearly midday and the cottage was deathly silent. The bedroom was cold and there was only wan light through the frost-crusted window. Mike got out of bed wrapping himself in the doona to keep warm. The bedside lamp would not illuminate and then he noticed that the comforting hum of the generator had stopped. The silence was deafening.

Mike went over to the window and saw that the snow had drifted right up to the sill. He would not be leaving the cottage today. Fuck! What was he to do now?

He decided that he would keep up the ruse of being Michele. Steve hadn’t figured out that he was a transvestite and, more importantly, that Michele was really his nephew; and Mike wanted that secret to not be revealed at all costs. He wasn’t stupid; he knew Steve would probably keep demanding sex from him but if he could keep the sex confined to the dry humping and, if he had to, a little fellatio, then that was the price he would have to pay. He made the mental connection that transformed him from thinking like Mike into thinking like Michele.

Michele had given long hard thought to the events of yesterday. She was disgusted that her uncle had forced himself on her but she had to admit that deep down inside she was a little flattered that she could invoke lust and desire in a man. After all, what was the point in dressing like a woman if you couldn’t behave like one?

That said; the sex was very unsettling. She had been forced to capitulate twice now and even though she felt totally feminie when dressed as Michele, she was very much aware she was a boy in a girl’s clothing. She was a little surprised that she wasn’t more repulsed by the sex, especially the fellatio. In drab, as she was now, the thought of sucking a man’s cock was repulsive, but when she was dressed as Michele she had to admit that she was quite inquisitive about the experience. It was not as bad as she had thought it would be; it was a little empowering, having a man beg you to suck his cock, and the skill was not that hard to master. Even the taste of semen was not too revolting.

It couldn’t have been too bad; the evidence was in her panties! She had orgasmed at some stage whilst performing fellatio yesterday so she must have enjoyed it to some extent.

It was all too much, too fast! She loved dressing up as Michele and she had to admit that she found it exciting to some extent that a man lusted after her. She just wished the man wasn’t her uncle and that he didn’t force himself on her.

She cleared her mind and thought about what she would do today. She needed a shower and to transform. The problem was that most of her clothes were how would you say it? Licentious? Provocative? Sluttish? Yes; that was it: sluttish! Her wardrobe consisted of miniskirts, tight blouses, high-heels and sexy lingerie. The last thing she wanted was to be dressed like a trollop around Steve. Michele walked over the wardrobe and opened it, flicking through the skirts and blouses until she found the nice business suit skirt-jacket combination that she had bought at Oxfam. It was almost exactly like the suits her mother wore to work and was the closest thing she had to modest attire. He laid it out on the bed.

Snap! In her mind she was Mike once again.

Mike cautiously removed the stool from against the door and opened it just a crack. Steve was fast asleep on the couch surrounded by empty booze bottles. He was snoring and it was obvious he wouldn’t be waking for quite a while. Mike briefly considered checking Steve’s pockets for his car keys and stealing his car but he couldn’t drive very well and even if he could the road was under three feet of snow.

He padded across the room still wrapped in the doona, his feet cold on the bare floor. The fires in the hearth and the combustion stove had burned down to embers but they still provided enough heat to keep the cottage tolerable and to keep the hot water warm. Mike shaved closely even though he wasn’t very hirsute and his facial hair was only really fluff. He took a long hot shower and brushed his teeth. He checked the coast was clear and padded back to his bedroom.

Time to become Michele once more!

Snap!

Michele sat down at the dresser and applied foundation and finishing powder, then eyeliner and then eyeshadow, blush and lipstick. A final coat of finishing powder and she was nearly done. She spent a few minutes painstakingly applying mascara to her eyelashes and after a few touches she was happy with the results. She would have liked to become a blonde today but the sudden change in hair style and colour would definitely raise Steve’s suspicions so she brushed out the shoulder-length brunette bob she had worn yesterday, fitted it to her head and adjusted it so the fringe sat straight.

Her toenails and fingernails were still coated with the plum red nailpolish she had applied yesterday and they didn’t require any touching up.

Once again Michele was amazed at the transformation; she looked very attractive and feminine. She had laid out some underwear on the bed next to the suit and now came the most exciting part of the transformation. Putting on her lingerie. She put on a mauve satin brassiere and filled the cups with her homemade breastforms. She stepped into the matching full-cut panties, having first carefully gaffed her penis out of the way. She decided that today she would wear stockings instead of pantyhose. As much as liked the feel of the sleek pantyhose gusset caressing her parts; there was something sensual and exotic about wearing stockings.

She fitted a black lace suspender belt around her waist and led the garters through the waistband of her panties and out the leg-holes. She had found out to her chagrin that if she put the garters over her panties; she couldn’t pull her panties down very far to attend to nature’s calls.

She opened a packet of Mayfair fifteen-denier fully-fashioned stockings. They were flesh-toned but the back-seam, welts and reinforced Cuban-heels and toes were black. She sat on the bed and carefully rolled them up her lean, coltish legs and pulled them taught and smoothed out the wrinkles. She clipped them to the silver clasps on the suspenders and walked over to the vanity mirror. They looked extravagant and sensuous and they emphasised her long, toned legs. She pulled on a black rayon half-slip and a mauve satin long sleeved blouse. She buttoned the blouse and stepped into the navy-blue skirt. It was tight around her buttocks but at least the hem came down to just above her knees so she would have some modesty whilst she was around Steve. She stepped into a pair of black high-heeled court shoes, what the Americans pumps, and pulled on the suit jacket. It too was tight so she left it unbuttoned.

She checked herself out in the mirror and made a few adjustments, she turned side-on and straightened the seams of her stockings and then she walked over to the dresser and clipped on earings, slipped rings on her fingers and bracelets on her wrists and a nice silver necklace around her neck. She sprayed herself liberally with Poison and then she was ready.

She was once again Michele Nylons, transvestite vixen!

Michele cautiously opened the bedroom door and peeked into the lounge. Steve was still asleep, she was aware that her high-heels were click-clacking on the hard floor and despite the cold she kicked off her pumps and carried them with her into the kitchen so as not to wake her uncle. She stoked the fire in the combustion stove and considered going out to refill the generator fuel tank but she was hardly dressed for it and although the soft light coming through the windows was not very bright, it illuminated the cottage sufficiently and once she got the combustion stove rekindled and lounge room hearth fire burning the place would soon warm up.

She made herself tea and toast and then went back to her room to collect the underwear and blouse she had worn the previous day. She washed them in warm water, rinsed them, and hung them up to dry on the shower rail in bathroom. Just like her mother and sister did at home. She hung up the skirt she had worn yesterday in the wardrobe and made the bed. Doing all these ordinary things took her mind off the obvious question: what was going to happen when Steve woke up?

Michele went back into the lounge and saw that the fire was nearly out; the room was getting cold despite the heat coming from the combustion stove in the kitchen. Michele squatted down next to hearth and began to rebuild the fire.

Steve opened one eye first and then the other. His head ached and his mouth tasted like shit. Then he smiled as he gazed at the sight presented before him. The girl was squatting next to the fire; her luscious buttocks clad in a tight skirt, her legs encased in taupe stockings with black back-seams and reinforced heels and toes. Her jacket was tight around her waist. She had her back to him and her hair was sleek and shiny. He could smell her perfume from here. His cock flinched; but as soon as he tried to get up a bolt of pain shot though his forehead.

Michele heard his movements and she looked back over her shoulder, she looked vulnerable and he could see fear in her eyes. She was safe for now though; Steve was in no shape to do much at all. He reeled to his feet and staggered over to his bedroom.

“Good night,” he mumbled, and collapsed on the bed.

Michele closed the door behind him, grateful that he was well away from her. She slipped on her high-heels and commenced cleaning the house. She found the chores strangely satisfying. She like being dressed as a woman flitting around the house doing the day to day tasks that most women found boring. She liked washing her clothes, making her bed, sweeping the room, washing the dishes and clearing away the clutter. It made her feel more like a woman somehow.

She made herself another cup of tea and sat down and stole one of Steve’s cigarettes and smoked it while she thought long and hard about where she was, what she had become, and what had happened to her. Her fascination with her mother and sister’s panties and hosiery as a young boy had developed into a full blown fetish as she entered puberty. It had evolved into crossdressing in her early teens and had matured to the stage where she was now a full-on transvestite. She even thought like a woman when she was dressed as Michele. Well she thought she thought like a woman anyway.

She whiled away the afternoon drinking tea, reading magazines and tending to the fire. She did anything that took her mind away from her dilemma. What to do about Steve?

She considered the obvious; just changing back into Mike but how would he explain what happened to Michele? He could sit his uncle down and talk to him man to man and explain that he was a transvestite; but the consequences were not worth considering. She could remain dressed in drag and explain to Steve that she was really Mike, his nephew, but once again the consequences were unfathomable. She decided the best thing to do was remain in character as Michele and bluff her way through the next few days and try to keep Steve at bay as much as possible.

It was nearly dark when she heard Steve stumbling about in his bedroom. A cold chill ran down her spine.

Steve half staggered out of the bedroom wearing only his jeans; his hair dishevelled and his eyes bloodshot.

“Jesus; what fucking time is it?” he mumbled.

“Late,” Michele replied.

She decided to lead the conversation away from yesterday’s events and away from anything to with sex.

“Would you like some dinner? I can make us soup and sandwiches?” she asked.

“Sure. Anything you want love,” Steve replied absentmindedly, intent on getting to the bathroom.

He left the door open and Michele could hear him pissing into the toilet bowl. It was somehow vaguely erotic imagining him siphoning his long thick cock; and Michele shook her head to clear the image from her mind and concentrated on making their dinner. She heard the bathroom door slam and the shower begin to run and she wondered if Steve had left the door open on purpose when he peed just to annoy her.

He came out of the bathroom about half an hour later, a cloud of steam bellowing from the door. He looked a lot better. He’d shaved, showered and washed his hair. He wore it a little long for a man in his forties. He had a towel around his waist and Michele couldn’t help but look. He’d once been very well built but now sported a little pot; he had very little body hair and Michele thought he wasn’t too bad for a man his age. He was certainly handsome; handsome enough for her mother to have an affair with at least.

He smiled at her as he walked past the kitchen on the way to his bedroom.

“Smells good,” he smiled again.

Michele smiled back despite her loathing for him. She was confused by her feelings. She despised him for what he had done to her; whilst at the same time she found herself vexingly attracted to him. She stirred the soup and then laid the table. She made sandwiches and poured the soup into bowls and bought them to the table. She quite liked playing the role of a housewife whilst being dressed like this. She imagined she was a character in one of the many novels she read; the pretty young housewife who needs to be rescued perhaps? She smiled to herself and once again shook her head.

“Silly cow!” she whispered to herself.

Steve came out of his bedroom wearing a dressing gown and slippers. He smelt of soap and aftershave; very masculine.

“This looks great,” he beamed as he sat down at the table.

Michele sat down opposite him and they both ate in awkward silence. Steve got up from the table and went to the kitchen; he opened the fridge and took out a bottle of wine.

“Want one?” he showed the bottle to Michele.

She nodded and Steve bought the wine and glasses to the table and poured them both a drink.

“Here’s hoping the snow clears soon,” he held out his glass and Michele clinked hers to his.

“Jesus, I hope it does. Looks like there’s still some more to come though,” he nodded to the window; sheets of snow whipped against the glass.

“Yes I hope so too,” Michele said soberly.

The awkward silence continued until eventually Steve couldn’t take it any more.

“Look about yesterday…………I’m sorry…………I was pissed and I’d just left my wife and I was angry and stupid. I’m so sorry,” the words stumbled out.

“You coerced me into to have sex,” Michele’s head was bowed; she couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Wow-there girly! I thought you liked it? It was just a little slap and tickle,” he tried to make light of it.

“Forcing your penis into my mouth is slap and tickle is it?” Michele responded.

“Oh come on love; don’t be like that. Like I said; I thought you liked it. Never mind; I promise I won’t do anything like that again,” he said apologetically.

“Thank you,” Michele replied cynically.

“Unless you want me too,” Steve added cheekily.

Michele glowered at him from across the table and Steve held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture.

“Ok, ok, ok, just joking,” he beamed and went back to his sandwich.

Despite him being a complete arsehole there was something about his cheeky manner that was hard to dislike. Michele smiled to herself and sipped her soup.

After they had eaten and drank two glasses of wine Michele stood up and began to clear the table. She took her dishes into the kitchen and returned for Steve’s. As she removed his tableware she was very aware of her close proximity to him. She could smell his aftershave and maleness; almost a musky smell; it was quite sentient. Steve was also aware of Michele’s presence; her perfume and makeup, the swish of her nylons as she walked. His cock began to become tumescent.

When she turned to walk away he playfully slapped her behind.

Michele spun on her heels and glared at him but he just gave her a whimsical grin and held up his hands apologetically. She couldn’t help but smile back.

“Behave,” she said sternly; but she was smiling when she said it.

She turned back to the kitchen and be damned if she didn’t swing her lovely arse from side to side; sashaying her buttocks as she walked back to the sink. Steve stared at her ample backside in the tight skirt; his gaze traced the dark back-seams of her stockings from knees to heels. God she was a sexy young thing!

Michele was as surprised as Steve was when she strutted into the kitchen. She had practiced walking around the cottage seductively many times when she had been here alone but this was the first time she had done so in the presence of another person. She knew Steve would be checking out her legs and her behind and she couldn’t help but tease him just a little.

“Can I have another sandwich then?” Steve asked.

“Make it yourself! I’m not your maid!” Michele replied.

“Mmmmmm! I like to see you dressed like a maid,” he chuckled.

“Like I said; behave!” she smiled back.

Steve took a couple of slices of bread and the butter dish over to the lounge and ate slices of bread and butter as he drank his wine. He got up to get another bottle of wine and went back to his seat; his eyes straying to Michele’s firm buttocks.

He came for her again about ten o’clock that evening.

Steve had been amiable enough for most of the evening but then he started drinking heavily again. Michele had a few glasses of wine with him and they got along for a while but after a while he started making lewd comments.

“Good you look good in that suit; I’d like to kiss your toes and then follow the seams of your stockings with my tongue,” he said to Michele who was now sitting across from him on the couch.

“Behave Steve; you promised you would,” she chided him.

“But you’re just so sexy; I want to do things to you,” he leered.

Fingers of fear once again stroked Michele’s psyche. She knew he would soon want more that to just talk about sex; he would want her body. She weighed her options but there weren’t many. She could run to her bedroom and hope that the stool against the lock would hold the door shut, which was unlikely. She could wipe away her makeup and pull off her wig and expose herself as Steve’s nephew but the consequences were unthinkable. She could try to fight him off; but even half-drunk he was stronger than she was.

Or she could capitulate. She could encourage him and let him hump her legs and arse as he liked to do; worse case scenario she could even fellate him. It had turned out giving her uncle a little head wasn’t as bad as she’d imagined; after all she had orgasmed when she did it last. This seemed the safest option. Play along; but at all costs prevent him from finding out that she was a boy.

“What sort of things?” she looked over the rim of her wine glass.

The room was dark; lit only by the firelight and two kerosene lamps now that the generator had failed.

Steve looked at her intently; was the little vixen playing along? She sat on the couch with her legs curled under her; the navy-blue suit clung to her body. The jacket was unbuttoned and the mauve satin blouse was tight around her small breasts. Her skirt had ridden up a little; he could see she was wearing a black slip; the lace edging peeped from under the hem of her skirt. Her long legs, clad in the taupe nylons, seemed to shimmer in the lamplight and he was sure he could just make out the dark bands of her welts. She was wearing stockings! It made sense now, and explained the dark back-seams and the reinforced fully-fashioned Cuban-heels on her nylons. She seductively dangled one of her black high-heels from the toes of her right foot.

The bitch was teasing him!

He looked into her heavily made-up eyes; then at her rouged cheeks and red-lipsticked lips, her jewellery glittered at her earlobes, wrists and decolletage. His eyes found hers; he drew in a breath and inhaled her perfume and continued.

“You know what sort of things. The sort of things I’ve already done,” his breathing was heavy.

Steve was barefoot, dressed only in loose jeans and a cotton shirt. His chest was exposed and the beginnings of an erection began to tent the fabric at his groin.

“I know what you want; you’ve taken it twice. I also know I can’t stop you if you want to take it again so I propose a deal,” Michele said, swinging the pump dangling from her toes.

Steve was mesmerised by the shoe rocking back and forth; dangling from her dark nylon-clad toes.

“Deal?” he replied.

“I’ll let you do what you did to me before. The slap and tickle stuff as you call it. I might even suck you if you behave yourself.”

“First off; I remain fully clothed.”

“And you mustn’t! And I mean mustn’t; try to touch me down there or touch my breasts. I’m saving myself for Mike and he gets to be the first one. Do you understand!” she glared at him intently.

“You mean I can dry hump your legs and you’ll suck my dick but I can’t finger you, fuck you or play with your tits,” Steve translated her demands.

“If you must put it so lewdly yes! And I keep my clothes on. All of them!” she replied sternly.

Michele thought that the deal was too good for Steve to pass up on. A compliant girl ready to do almost anything as long as she remained fully-clothed and he wasn’t allowed to touch her cunt or her tits; which were non-existent anyway.

“Agreed,” Steve answered; his voice thick with lust.

Michele let her dangling high heel drop to the floor and pointed her toe directly at Steve; her red-varnished toenails just perceptible through the black gauzy nylon.

“So what were you saying about I’d kissing my toes and then following the seams of my stockings with your tongue?” Michele wriggled her toes at him.

That set him off! He put down his drink and crawled across the floor to the couch until his face was level with her feet. He pulled Michele’s legs out straight and pulled off her remaining high-heel. Michele wriggled her toes in anticipation of what was to come.

She really liked the feeling of power she held over this man as he worshipped her feet. He held her silken-clad ankles firmly and she could feel his hot breath on her feet through her nylon stockings. Then she felt his tongue begin to explore her toes. He ran it under all of her toes on both feet and then he licked each of her toes individually. She felt her cock hardening tucked away in the crevice of her buttocks; lucky it was restrained by the gaff.

Steve tasted the silky material of her nylons, a scintilla of sweat, and a little trace of her perfume as he sucked her toes. He explored the valley under her toes and then examined each foot with his tongue. Then he put her toes into his mouth, alternating from left to right foot as he sucked and slathered her feet. His cock was rock hard and he was tempted to reach for it but he had a better idea. Michele had her eyes closed and was breathing quite heavily. The sensuous tactility of this man worshiping her feet was surprisingly erotic and she was extremely aroused.

Steve removed Michele’s feet from his mouth and lowered them towards his groin. Michele was filled with expectation and lust and she leaned back on the couch. She was going to enjoy giving her uncle Steve a footjob. She imagined she was one of the pretty models in her fashion magazines and that Steve was her boyfriend.

Michele leaned further back on the couch and her skirt rode up higher exposing her stocking-tops and the crotch of her mauve satin panties. She lowered a stocking encased foot into Steve's lap and watched him begin to squirm and moan.

"Oh Michele!" Steve moaned.

Michele's dark reinforced nylon toes now rubbed against the Steve's hard penis through his jeans. Steve lifted Michele's other nylon encased foot and rubbed it all over his face and Michele enjoyed listening to his muffled moans.

"Oh my god, I can't believe this is happening! Yesterday you fought me tooth and claw and now you’re driving me wild with your feet; they smell so good and feel amazing!" Steve sighed

“Shut up and kiss my foot,” Michele tickled his nose playfully with her toe.

Michele pressed and rubbed one stockinged foot against his erection while Steve worshiped the other foot pressing it firmly over his nose and mouth; inhaling her foot odour and licking at her nylon imprisoned toes. He reached down and stroked the stocking-clad foot that was pressing on his hard cock. He continued to moan; licking and sucking on Michele's toes, sliding his other hand farther up and down Michele's long, sleek stockinged-sheathed legs.

"Take it out!" Michele whispered seductively.

Steve fumbled at his lap; unbuttoned his fly and released his engorged penis. Michele worked her nyloned foot all around his rampant member. She worked her toes on the underside of his shaft, just below his glans. After few strokes from Michele's toes Steve was squirming and groaning. A filament of pre-seminal fluid oozed from the tip of his penis and stuck to Michele's toe; it glistened on the dark reinforced nylon. He began to run his hands up and down the full length of Michele's gossamer-sheathed leg from the tips of her toes to the tops of her hose. He moaned with pleasure as Michele's massaged his phallus with her silken foot.

Michele pulled her other foot away from Steve's face and dropped it into his lap. She placed each of her feet together and arched her soles, trapping Steve's engorged manhood between them. She moved her feet back and forth masturbating Steve's cock with her nylon clad feet.

Steve's cock was swollen, the glans bright red and almost ready to shoot its load. Pre-seminal fluid was flowing freely from the eye of his penis, and the sensation of the wet scratchy-slick nylon sliding up and down his shaft was exquisite. Michele's toes became soaked with Steve's pre-seminal fluid.

Steve looked down at his lap again and watched as Michele's shapely feet slid up and down his straining penis, milking him with her diaphanous encased appendages. The nylon covering her toes glistened with pre-seminal fluid and Steve ran his hands up and down Michele's stockinged legs all the way up her thighs to the dark welts and garter straps. He bucked back and forth fucking Michele's feet and he could sense his orgasm approaching. He firmly grabbed her ankles and pulled her feet from his cock.

“Hey! I was enjoying that!” Michele whined.

“Not the way I wanna come love,” Steve smiled up at her.

He stood up and dropped his pants and ripped off his shirt so he stood naked before her. His penis was rampant and throbbing. He fell on her and she giggled as he began to hug and kiss her.

Michele opened her mouth and met Steve’s tongue with her own; she crushed his lips with hers whilst at the same time raising her legs and wrapping them around his flanks. She knew Steve loved the feel of nylon against his bare skin and she was not disappointed when he groaned. Her plan now was to get him to come against her legs or on her body; worst case scenario she would fellate him. To be honest she was enjoying every minute of their passionate embraces. Her cock was hardening; trying to break free of the gaff. As long as Steve stayed away from her tits and groin she was confident her ruse would hold and she could concentrate on pleasuring herself whilst Steve took what he wanted from her.

Steve’s cock was rubbing on Michele’s legs; he enjoyed the differing sensations as his cock shifted from her sheer nylons to the cool firm flesh of her upper thigh. His cock touched one of her garter clips and he winced as the cold metal snap nipped the flesh of his penis. He didn’t mind actually, because the mild pain held back his orgasm. He was close to coming but didn’t want to just yet.

He extricated himself from Michele’s embrace; much to her disappointment but he wasn’t off her for long. He spun her around so that she was lying on her back on the couch and he mounted her again. She willingly opened her legs to accommodate him; even helping him ruck up her skirt. He kissed her and his cock brushed against her rayon slip leaving a silvery trail of pre-seminal fluid on the slippery black fabric. Michele felt him rummaging around, pulling her slip out of the way and then she felt his hot cock on the front panel of her full cut satin panties; it was hard and throbbing and she became concerned about what he might try next.

“Ok Steve you can rub on my panties but remember our agreement; no penetration!” she warned him.

She raised her hips and ground her belly against him. The feel of his hard member pressing against her flesh with only the flimsy layer of panty material between their bodies was extremely arousing. She kissed him deeply, driving her tongue deep into his mouth, wriggled her hips and wrapped her legs around him once more. She wanted to bring him to release; to feel his hot seed splash on her belly and thighs.

Steve had other plans and before she could stop him he slid his cock inside the leg opening of her panties and it came into contact with her warm flesh. Michele panicked and tried to push him off her but Steve hung on and probed at her groin with his hard manhood. She drummed her heels on his back and pushed at his shoulders to try to dismount him.

“No Steve! No! You promised!” she shrieked.

It was too late; Steve’s cock was buried in her groin trying to find her non-existent vagina.

Steve was stymied; his cock should be buried in the folds of Michele’s labia but instead his cock found nothing but hard flesh and then he realised what was happening.

“Stop! Stop! Stop” Michele cried, but it was too late; her ruse was up.

“Fuck me! You’re a tranny!” Steve exclaimed.

Michele was howling; beating her hands against his body, writhing and wriggling, trying to free herself from his embrace. Steve held her down with his bodyweight and then he did something that Michele was totally unprepared for. He bent his head and kissed her softly.

“Shh, Shh, Shh, Michele its ok honey,” he whispered in her ear.

He stroked her hair and then kissed her eyelids, her cheeks and her mouth with extreme tenderness. Michele was not prepared for this display of affection. She thought Steve would be revolted and at best berate and belittle her and at worst he might beat her.

“It’s ok Michele. I now know what this has all been about. You’re a transvestite and you were scared I’d find out,” Steve said in a soothing voice.

“I actually find it a total turn on that you’re a tranny. I served in the Royal Navy for ten years and I’ve met heaps of trannies over the years,” Steve explained.

“And I have to say that you are heaps sexier and far more attractive than those slanty-eyed lady-boys in Singapore. You are feminine, beautiful and seductive and I want you even more,” he kissed her again; this time softly on the lips.

Michele remembered that her uncle Steve had done a stint in the RN but she was not aware that he was transvestite admirer. She didn’t even know that such men existed! She stopped struggling and lay still letting Steve kiss and embrace her. It felt comforting and exciting at the same time. She looked in his eyes.

“You don’t mind?” she whispered.

“Mind? I think it’s fantastic! I haven’t been with a tranny for years but I’ve never lost my taste for them and you are absolutely gorgeous,” he replied and kissed her again; this time with passion.

‘Well at least he doesn’t know who I am,’ she thought.

They continued to kiss and grope each other and then Michele felt Steve begin to hump away at the front of her panties again and she was happy to respond. His hands stroked her stockinged legs rubbing them from knee to stocking-top and then his fingers stroked her bare thighs.

“MMMMmmm, that’s nice,” Michele moaned.

Steve slid his hand along the front of her panties and then he slipped his fingers inside the waistband. Michele began to struggle again.

“Shh, shh, shh, it’s ok; just let me do this, trust me you’ll like it,” Steve kissed her ear.

Michele felt more than a little trepidation as Steve’s hand slid inside her panties. His fingers found her penis, semi-erect, taped under her groin. She struggled a little but Steve held her still and gently extricated her cock from the gaff, dropping the disused tape on the floor. He positioned her member along her stomach and pulled her panties back up over her penis and lay down on her. His own erection pressed against hers through the satiny panty material. He began to rub his cock against hers and he kissed her deeply.

Michele had never felt anything so exotic in her life. All the times she had masturbated with panties and stockings covering her cock could not compare to the sensation of having a hard prick rubbing her own with the layer of panty material between them. She could feel her uncle’s cock pulse and throb as it massaged her own quivering shaft.

Once again she lifted her legs and wrapped them around Steve’s body; locking her heels behind his back.

“Ride me Steve! Make me come!” she whimpered and ground herself against his hard, hot cock.

She was close to coming and she hoped Steve was too. She wanted to feel his hot seed flood her panties and coat her cock as she too erupted.

Steve adjusted his position slightly and pushed his cock into the crevice of her panty-clad buttocks and began to hump her there. It felt nice but not as nice as his cock against her cock.

“Put it back please honey,” she whispered in his ear and then went back to kissing him whist she wriggled her behind trying to extricate his cock from between her buttocks.

"Stop it you naughty boy," she giggled.

Steve did not stop; instead he pulled the gusset of Michele's panties aside and slid his cock harder into the crease of her soft creamy buttocks.

"Stop it!" Michele yelped; seriously now.

Steve ignored her and his glans probed at her sphincter. Michele screamed and wriggled but Steve was too strong. He held her down with one hand whilst he used the other to guide his penis into Michele’s anus.

Michele screamed.

“No!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Please don’t Steve; I don’t want this; I’m not ready for this,” Michele pleaded.

She knew what Steve was trying to do and the very idea of it shocked and appalled her. Steve ignored her pleas.

“It’s ok Michele; the first time will hurt a little but then it will be wonderful. It’s just like the first time for a girl,” he smiled down at her but Michele would still not consent to what he was about to do.

She did not want to be sodomised!

Steve reached out to the coffee table and took a dollop of butter from the butter dish and spread it thickly over Michele’s sphincter and his long thick shaft; all the while Michele wriggled and struggled underneath him. He used his bodyweight to hold her down.

“Stop! Stop! Don’t! Don’t!” she screamed.

But they were alone in the cottage miles from anywhere. There was no one to hear her cries. Outside the snow continued to fall.

Michele was just about to scream out again when the head of Steve’s penis pierced her sphincter. The butter eased the entry of Steve’s cock past her tight bud but the pain was still incredible. Michele moaned and bucked in pain but Steve would not remove his phallus from inside her, he only had his glans inside her and he didn’t try to push any more of himself inside her but he still held her down.

“Ohhh!!! Hurts! Hurts! Hurts! Hurts! Hurts! Hurts!” Michele whimpered.

“Shhh Honey; relax and it will be ok,” Steve whispered, trying to sooth her.

“No! No! No! No! No! No! Take it out!!!” Michele moaned.

Michele was feeling a constant deep burning sensation combined with spasmodic twinges of intense pain shooting from her sphincter. She whimpered and wriggled trying to expel the intruder from her back passage but Steve held on.

“Michele!!!” he hissed; and she stopped struggling and listened to him.

“Look honey, the worst is over I promise, if you lie still and let me; I can make this experience special for you. Or you can keep struggling and I’m going to fuck you anyway and then it’s really going to hurt!”

Michele realised that once again she had been vanquished and she would do anything to stop the excruciating pain that was coming from her back passage. She sighed and lay still; her anus pierced by Steve’s penis; she was smart enough to know that fighting was only going to make the pain worse. She tried to relax her sphincter but her instinct was to try to push against the object invading her anus; not to accept it.

“That’s it honey,” said Steve as he felt Michele’s sphincter spasm as she tried to relax it.

“It will be ok I promise.”

Michele was quietly sobbing but at the same time she forced her inner muscles to relax. Amazingly the twinges of intense pain began to subside; she still felt the burning sensation around the entrance to her anus but it was tolerable. Steve took another dollop of butter from the dish and applied it his shaft.

“Ok honey; keep relaxed, I really don’t was to hurt you,” Steve soothed.

Millimetre by millimetre Steve slowly pushed himself inside Michele; he took his time and whenever Michele flinched he stopped and soothed her as his shaft slowly disappeared inside Michele’s rectum. Michele felt full and intensely uncomfortable, the urge to expel Steve’s penis was immense and she had to physically and mentally prevent her internal muscles from contracting.

After ten minutes Steve had about half of his girth buried inside Michele’s anus he raised her legs so that they rested over his shoulders. He looked down at her pretty face and smiled.

“It’s ok Michele; you’re doing fine.”

Michele’s only response was a silent tear. She had stopped sobbing and now and only mewed softly, but now that she had relaxed her sphincter she really didn’t feel any pain. Even the burning sensation had subsided; she just felt full.

Steve continued to press slowly forward cooing and encouraging Michele to stay calm and relax her anal muscles. When he had about three quarters of his shaft inside her, he sensed her internal muscles respond and she gasped. He knew what it was; it was not pain. His glans had found her prostate gland. Her reaction was pleasure not pain.

Steve knew better than to rush; he took his time pushing the remaining few centimetres of his shaft inside Michele until eventually he was buried deep inside her with his scrotum resting snugly against her. He wriggled his penis inside her to stimulate her prostate and he kissed her. She began to respond and she kissed him back.

“Mmmmmm, that feels good Steve. The pain has stopped and it feels quite nice,” she smiled up at him.

“I told you it would hurt but only for a little while. Just stay relaxed and it will get better,” Steve lowered his face to hers and kissed her again.

He rubbed her silken-hosed legs and she rubbed them against his body because she knew he particularly liked it.

She felt Steve’s glans rub against an area inside her that suddenly caused waves of intense pleasure to course through her body. As his penis stimulated her prostate, rings of pleasure ran up and down her insides; her sphincter responded and loosened and began to emit its own tingling ripples of pleasure. Michele gasped.

When Steve lowered his mouth to hers she kissed him back, deeply, passionately. She drove her tongue into his mouth and lifted her buttocks up off the couch and pushed herself up against him; her legs moved around his waist; she locked her ankles together and held him against her. She felt totally feminine lying here underneath this man; wantonly giving herself to him.

They fucked slowly but passionately taking their time; Steve easing his penis in and out of Michele’s anus with long slow thrusts as she raised herself up to meet him. There was no fervent thrashing or pounding; just firm, slow deep thrusts providing the maximum stimulation for both of them. They said little to each other, the fucking was accompanied by one long passionate kiss.

"Oh fuck me honey!" Michele moaned and began to push back against Steve as he slid in and out of her tight passage.

Michele's cock became fully erect in her panties. Steve’s reached down and squeezed Michele's penis through her panties.

"Ohhh!!!" Michele moaned.

Steve fucked Michele and she fucked him back; both of them moaning and groaning with the intensity of their passion. He squeezed and stroked Michele's hard penis and the stimulation she felt from having her cock massaged through her satin panties amplified the rings of pleasure that radiated from her anus. She was going to come.

Steve's cock throbbed and he frantically squeezed Michele’s cock through her panties. He unloaded his seed inside her; his cock pulsing and juddering as his scrotum contracted ejecting steams of hot semen. Michele felt her back passage flood with Steve’s sperm and this triggered her own orgasm.

Michele felt him orgasm; his cock was fully embedded in her, his scrotum tickling her buttocks when he shuddered and wriggled his member inside her as it pulsed and throbbed. He was kissing her passionately, their tongues entwined, lips mashed, their teeth occasionally cracking against each other with the intensity of the kiss.

Michele moaned as her own orgasm shook her body and she felt her penis begin to pulse and expel her issue. Steve slid a hand between their bodies and milked her as she ejaculated, hot semen soaked into her panties.

Michele slid her stocking-sheathed legs up and down Steve's torso and pulled him harder against her; her fingernails raked his back as their lips crushed together and their tongues intertwined. Michele drummed her heels against Steve's hard buttocks.

Steve lay on top of her, supporting his weight on his elbows as they both slowly came down from their orgasms. He placed soft little kisses on her lips and kissed her on the eyelids and stroked her hair. Michele felt fully sated and very feminine. She felt like she knew what it would be like to be woman who had just been made love to and her lover, in no hurry to leave, was content to remain in her arms.

"We need to talk Steve," Michele said sometime later.

To Be Continued….

Not getting much in the way of comments so maybe this story is a bit too 'hard' for this site...one chapter to go anyway