Becoming His Woman

It was Tuesday morning. I was lying in bed with Marcus, spooned, my butt pushed into his crotch and his morning wood more than halfway into my asscunt, its entry lubricated by his cum still leaking from me after our love-making the night before. One of his arms was wrapped under me, with his hand cupping my plumped tit, fingers pinching and toying with its large, engorged nipple. Marcus' other hand was caressing my bare hip and thigh, sometimes stroking down towards my manclit. His mouth nuzzled my neck and shoulder, before turning to my ear.

"I want to talk about something," he whispered.

It sounded serious, which seemed hardly fair since his ministrations to my body had certainly raised my sexual arousal level. "What, baby?" I murmured back.

Before we go any further, let me review the last few days. After another feminization session at the spa on Friday, I spent that evening and weekend, and the Monday holiday, as essentially Marcus' woman. And that is how I thought of myself now. Biologically I might still be a male, but the transforming treatments had done a decent job of allowing me to present as a female. I now thought of my body parts in feminine terms; I no longer had a dick, or sphincter, or pecks - they were now my clit, pussy, and tits. Psychologically I was dedicated to using this body to provide womanly sexual pleasure to Marcus.

And Marcus made full use of it. We coupled at least twice and usually three times a day during the long weekend. One of those had me worshiping his magnificent cock with my mouth and hands. The more I sucked him, the more I enjoyed it. Given his size and the difficulty in swallowing him, I had made my two-handed stroking of his cock a big part of the sexual play. There was a tube of strawberry flavored lube in my weekend kit and I would lather his shaft and head with it, while licking and sucking him. I liked the combination of tastes; his cum especially complemented the lube.

Ahhh, his cum. It gave me great satisfaction to make Marcus orgasm with my hands and mouth. Honestly, in a relationship with a large, strong black man, it made me feel like an especially sexy white woman. I loved making his cock hard and throbbing between my lips, and hearing his pleasurable moans. When his warm jism shot from the tip, gushing into my mouth, I knew I had fulfilled my sexual role.

Then there were the deep, intense fuckings. I understood that one of the things - maybe the most important thing - Marcus valued about me sexually was that I could take all of his huge tool in my pussy. At first, that required a lot of lube, repeated use of poppers, and - frankly - a fair bit of pain. But there is a strange relationship between pain and sexual pleasure. Just like I loved it when he bit hard on my big nipples - it was a lightning bolt from my tits to my crotch - it was important to feel him stretch open my channel. It hurt so deliciously. Then, working his cockhead around the curve from my rectum into the colon - allowing me to feel his wiry pubic hair pressed against my spread cheeks - involved both discomfort and incredible satisfaction.

I previously described our Friday night coupling; being on my back and having Marcus between my open thighs was an incredible, womanly moment for me. I was literally offering my body to him for his pleasure. And he took it, and with it, me. I loved his weight, warmth, and damp sweat on top of me. His cock filled me, and then some, and rubbed my channel and my p-spot erotically. I felt SO connected to him.

But I wasn't the only one being transformed by our intimacy; Marcus was changing, too. He was beginning to accept me as female - he certainly fucked me that way. But there were also small gestures: Nuzzling my neck, tonguing my ear, appreciatively caressing my body. The only thing missing was deep, soulful kissing.

And finally that changed. On Sunday morning I had gotten up early, attended to my appearance and hygiene, and gone into the kitchen to make coffee. I was in a short silk robe, and underneath it a lacy corset that exposed my modest breasts, a thong that tightly held my clit, and a pair of high-rise frilly socks. My body was smooth and moisturized, my pussy lubricated, and I had a jeweled plug in it.

As I attended to mugs and plates next to the sink, I felt Marcus come up behind me. As he pressed himself to me I could tell he was naked and his cock was hard. His hand reached around and he cupped both my tits and pinched my nipples. As he had done several times before, he lustfully nuzzled me, this time gently biting the nape of my neck. As his actions aroused both of us, he removed his hands from my breasts to untie and remove my robe, and then explore my ass. Finding the plug, he moved it in-and-out, sorta fucking me with it, before pulling it out and tossing it aside.

It was pretty easy to see where this was going, so I moved things along by lifting my left leg up and putting my knee on the counter. This spread me open for Marcus. What happened next was like a scene out of "Last Tango in Paris." I had put some butter out for toast. Marcus reached over, scooped some on his fingers and applied it to both his cockhead and my cunt opening. He then pressed his cock into me, taking away my breath and pushing me hard against the cabinets.

There wasn't anything comfortable about this position, but it was 100% erotic. The butter was a sensuous lubricant, but with little preparation and no poppers, it definitely hurt as he stretched me open. However, I loved how Marcus was taking me, and he reinforced his dominance by reaching forward with his buttered fingers and shoving them in my mouth. I immediately sucked on them. Then something completely surprising happened.

Marcus used his hooked fingers in my mouth to pull me up off the counter and turn my head towards him. As we locked eyes, he quickly moved in and suddenly it was his long, strong tongue in my mouth, not his fingers. Marcus immediately took full possession of me, from both ends - his cock penetrated deeply into my pussy and his tongue filled and explored my mouth. Yeah, I was twisted and contorted, but I didn't care. My man had just crossed the last line into complete intimacy with me and I was thrilled.

When the kiss finally broke, I squeaked out, "oh, god, Marcus... fuck me!" And he most definitely did. In this position my plumped and buttered ass cheeks were part of the pleasure my body was providing his cock. His thrusts were almost animal-like and he pressed me back down on the counter, hands on my shoulders, as his huge cock rutted in my cunt. This was all about making him feel good and I didn't mind a bit; I wanted to give it to him after that kiss. It did not take long to feel him throb and expand as he began ejaculating into me. It was the most primal sexual experience I'd ever had.

In the aftermath, I felt his hands stroke my shoulders and back, almost lovingly. I am not sure whether he was embarrassed or proud (or some combination) of his lustful fucking, but he seemed to want to assure me of his affection. So he gently helped me lower my leg back to the ground and turn me in his arms. With that, he pulled me forward and up so he could kiss me properly. This was definitely not a tentative peck; this was a manly, possessive - and yes, caring - kiss to complete my transformation to being HIS woman. And he was my man.

* *

The long weekend wasn't ALL sex (tho' I think I had real clothes on only once or twice, and we never left his condo). Marcus and I spent a fair amount of time intimately lounging while watching a few movies and in rambling conversations, some of them involving stay-in dining. Side note: I continued to eat very light, and often just had one of my protein drinks while Marcus had a normal meal. While my stomach occasionally growled, I wasn't terribly hungry and being ready to take Marcus' long cock deep and cleanly into my colon was a huge motivator - rather than stuff myself, I greatly preferred that he do it.

During this time together we learned a lot about each other. As I have previously mentioned, we discovered early in our acquaintance that we shared a few interests, so we didn't lack for stuff to talk about. When we didn't agree, I was impressed with how respectful Marcus was of my viewpoints and I made an effort to do the same. It was as if we were on an extended first date - which in a way we were - and it was interesting how we became both more knowledgeable and more affectionate as the hours and days passed.

One element of our interaction that impressed me was how consistently Marcus treated me as a woman. I don't mean that in a sexist way; rather, when he wasn't fucking my brains out, he simply was a considerate gentlemen. He always used feminine pronouns when referring to me, often got up to get me something, was solicitous of my opinions and desires, and just generally made it easy for me to stay in the role of his woman. And after the "Last Tango" scene in the kitchen, he also was more physically affectionate, including kissing.

To keep up appearances, I regularly checked out to the guest bathroom to attend to my body. Actually, I think Marcus appreciated these breaks - it let him have some alone time and catch up on his life responsibilities. Meanwhile, I was becoming both more skilled and more efficient at maintaining my smooth skin, attractive hair and make-up, and internal hygiene. This routine was reinforcing my new identity and I did not begrudge the time or effort it took. I was becoming comfortable being - or at least presenting - as a woman, and spending time with Marcus, especially in bed, was an incredible reward.

I had brought an "interesting" collection of clothing items - mostly lingerie - from the spa. My usual attire started with a corset in several of different colors and materials that were intended to cinch my waist while pushing up my modest breasts, exposing my hard nipples. It also accentuated the curvature of my ass. There was an assortment of stockings. Most of them were silky thigh-high stayups (tho' I had one corset with stocking straps and clips), and I also had a couple fun and frilly knee socks. And of course there were thongs, including one designed sort of like a jock with dual straps that left my cunt open to cock attacks from Marcus.

During this "me time" my mind often explored the implications of what I was doing. Just a few days earlier I viewed this as simply experimentation or exploration of an alternative gender identity, but as the weekend progressed, my feelings were changing. There were A LOT of things I was enjoying as a woman: I liked how my body felt, how sensuously the lingerie clung to me, how sexy and desired Marcus could make me feel with a look or gesture, and of course there was the sex. It is almost impossible to relate how being held by Marcus, or having him inside me, change my views of myself and of the world.

This naturally led to my contemplating how I was feeling about Marcus. This had started with my being just a fuck toy in the middle of a BBC spit roast between him and Henry. But even then, I felt like he appreciated something about me that was not purely sexual. As the days passed, and I enjoyed more of his attention, I found I was returning it. I often flirted with him, and found many of his qualities - at least with me - admirable. There was little doubt that we liked each other - as man and woman - and that there was some more to it. We had real chemistry, and the thought of leaving him to go back to California was something I was constantly pushing out of my mind.

On Monday night, Marcus really tested the limits of these feelings. We were in bed together and it wasn't just sex. We were making love. Each of us took time to arouse and pleasure each other with our hands and mouths. He had internalized how erogenous my nipples and my pussy opening were, and took time to exploit that. I LOVED it when he sucked and bit my nipples while fingering my cunt. Meanwhile, I had become really good at blowjobs combined with lubricated stroking of his magnificent cock, which had the virtue of getting him ready in several ways to penetrate me. What we were doing for each other was feeling more than lustful; it was caring... dare I say loving.

And then he mounted me, my thighs spread open in invitation, his cock stretching me to the limits as he took his place inside me. But Marcus was clearly in no hurry to just take his pleasure; he moved languidly to open me up and penetrate me deeply. All this time his hands roamed my body in an incredibly sensuous way. He also dipped down, again and again, to kiss me - sometimes sweetly, sometimes possessively. Having his tongue fill my mouth while his cock absolutely stuffed my pussy was sexually completing in a way I had never known when having sex as a man. I loved it.

We shared a bottle of poppers. While I didn't require them any longer in order to take his huge cock, I still enjoyed how they both relaxed and aroused me. The poppers made me even more receptive to feeling his deep thrusts inside my cunt. As for Marcus, they made his manhood even harder and - amazingly - a bit larger. In this horizontal dance in bed, he was definitely the alpha male taking my willing woman, but in a way that made me feel safe and, this evening, perhaps even loved.

As both of us grew closer to orgasming, he let his warm and slightly damp body down on mine. After a passionate kiss, Marcus moved his mouth to my ear and in a raspy voice said, "let's cum together... cum with me, Jamie, cum!" I was on sensory overload and was immediately ready to share this moment with him. "Oh, god, yes, Marcus... take me completely! I am yours!" With that I felt his cock throb as my channel spasmed; he filled me with both his flesh and his fluids as my body wrapped itself tightly around his long, hard shaft. Deep inside me, the feminine receptacle, we connected in a cosmic way. I never in my life felt as close to anyone as I did to him, in a coupling that was so much more than just sex.

"Stay inside me, stay on top of me" I begged as we came down off our shared orgasmic high. And he did. With my arms and legs wrapped around Marcus, and tears filling my eyes, it was clear that I didn't want to let go.

* *

"I want to talk about something."

So now you know where I was, mentally and emotionally, when he whispered those words in my ear on Tuesday morning.

In a tone that seemed filled with both caring and sincerity, Marcus began his pitch as his cock slowly moved in my pussy. "I don't want you to leave. I think we have started something that we need to keep exploring, for each of us individually, and for us together. I know I care about you as a person. I know that you make me feel like more of a man than any woman ever has. I know I love spending time with you both in and out of bed. I know that I feel in-synch with you."

"What I don't know is how you feel, and I am hoping you will share that with me in a moment. But here is what I wish would happen: That you want to spend more time with me and that you stay here in Boston. That you want to transition to full-time womanhood. That we build a relationship as a man and a woman who add value to each other's lives. And, yeah..." as he emphasized this point with a double thrust of his cock in my pussy, "we keep having mind-blowing sex."

Wow, just wow. We were FAR past experimenting and exploring now. But thing is, I think I felt the same way. But in order to express any coherent thoughts or feelings, I needed to get his addictive cock out of my aroused body. So I moved forward, his tool slipping from me, and turned to face him. However, to maintain the intimacy - and perhaps engage in a bit of payback - I reached down and gently stroked his cock with my hand.

"Oh, Marcus, I feel most of those things too. Any time I have thought about going back to California I just push it out of my mind. And, honestly, I am enjoying being a woman - YOUR woman - very much. But it is an insanely complex issue for me. There is a whole world in which I earn a living where everyone knows me as a man. I have no idea how I would deal with that."

"That said, I confess I have thought more than a little bit about what it would be like to live permanently as a woman. A week ago, that would have been comical. But today, I take the matter very seriously. But there are so many challenges..." I began to tear up.

Marcus brushed my hair back with his fingers and gently wiped a thumb under a watery eye. "Let's start with this... let's say that I was prepared to support us both while you shifted your life to Boston, and that I would pay for your medical transition. How would you feel? What would you do?"

This caught me by surprise, but maybe not so much. It was clear Marcus cared for Jamie (shifting for a moment to the third person) on several levels, and the way he phrased it encouraged me to say out loud what I had only thought to myself.

"I think I could make my femininity permanent. I like my shape and want more. I would like to have real breasts. I want to know what it is like to have my tits sucked into your mouth while I sit naked in your lap. At first, it would be nice to see if HRT would allow them to grow and be natural. If not, maybe implants. And I'd like to have laser hair removal, especially on my face and back. I don't mind shaving my legs; it makes me feel feminine. And of course, I'd like to grow out my hair on my head and find a style is flattering."

"Damn," said an impressed Marcus. "You have given this some thought."

"Well, of course. I love being a woman for you - it has been surprisingly and incredibly fulfilling. It is only natural that I'd think about how I could be even better suited to please you." Marcus smiled, moved forward, and kissed me sweetly.

"What else?" he asked?

"I've kept my testicles tucked up and out of the way. From what I've read, the number of drugs I need to take to transition would reduced, and maybe more effective if they were simply removed. If I am going to live as a woman, I think I'd like that, so I'd want to get an orchiectomy. That said, I don't think a fake vagina makes much sense. It could never be deep enough to take all of your cock, and I am pretty sure it would not bring either of us as much pleasure as my asspussy does now."

"I'd like to keep my clit, though I'd hope the hormone replacement treatments might contract its size. If not, maybe a bit of surgery would do it. I want it to be an erogenous nub - really, just a big clit. Maybe in time you'd find it sexy. The HRT would have other feminizing effects like creating some curves and softening my face. Do you think you would like me that way?"

"Oh, Jamie, what you just described would be perfect. You would be so beautiful and sexy, I am sure of it. And I'm willing to pay for it all - and more if there are other things you want."

Suddenly, my femininity wasn't just a hypothetical or a thought experiment. Marcus wanted me to transition to being a full-time woman and was willing to underwrite the process, both medically and professionally. But I needed a little time and perspective before totally changing my life. I had a thought.

"I want to go back to the spa. I've come to trust Michelle and Anya, and I know they have access to professional counselors for this. Will you give me a couple days to consult with them, and to think though not only the changes this decision would bring to my body, but to my life?

Marcus pulled me to his chest, and kissed me softly on the forehead and temples. "Of course, sweetheart. As much as I want this for me, and for us, it needs to be right for you. Take the time. But in the meantime, can you stop stroking my cock and take it either in your mouth or your pussy? I'm about to explode."

And with that, I pushed him to his back, straddled him, and dropped my cunt down hard on him, taking that wonderful black cock all the way into me on a single stroke.