I had to grip her even more tightly to stop her bouncing away from the extreme stimulation, so longed for and yet so overwhelming. I could hear her ga...sping and crying for more, unable to express herself in words and yet making herself clear in the way lovers so like to hear. Her tiny love-button stimulated me in return with what felt almost like an electrical charge, as if I had touched the tip of my tongue against a battery. Both hands were clutching my head again now as if she wanted me never. "Yes" She began to rotate her pelvis on him. "You're my adorable, precious girl," she said. "Yes," he said, eyes shut, clenching his buttocks up into her as she responded by pressing herself down on him. Now she seemed to be squirreling and squeezing him deeper and deeper, all the way into her, and he was rising into a delicious place he had never before entered. He knew he couldn't hold off much longer. "That's what you are! Aren't you?" "Yes," he said, rising to meet. She sucked, ran her tongue over it, bit lightly with her teeth and pulled. I moaned and pulled her hair some. One of her long, slender hands ran down my stomach and slipped inside my bottoms. Groaning and with my head leaning back, I rocked my hips slowly against the finger that was playing with my clit. Two well-manicured fingers plunged inside me and I cried out; I'd only ever touched myself once and was not used to having two fingers.Wiggling her fingers and pumping them in and out, she. I walked like John Wayne,I spit, I cursed like a trucker, and I watched sports. Societal scornbreeds denial. Denial breeds self-repression. I became more masculine inmy behavior, but it was a cheap imitation of masculinity. I was neverreally that which I hated.I hated my maleness and hated others. It kept me from the femininity Iknew I needed and belonged with.Now, that repressive side was submerged by my mental exhaustion. I hadlong embraced some aspects of femininity. I cross-dressed around.