Sandy Part One SeXStoRY

Things had always been different; remembrance of those halcyon days of c***dhood was bittersweet, slightly built and ever delicate, the boys teased openly but loved the presence in their makeshift camp hidden in the wastelands. Made to strip from the waist down, the soft body was displayed whilst made to oblige older and larger boys till their balls would spend no more; though humiliated, the figure stood, with tiny white cock erect and excited, wrist aching with the endless task of relieving the stiff members of newly virile adolescents. A day at the beach, round in a secluded cove changed Sandy’s life forever. Stripped naked and held down by two large boys, a third violated the soft milky cheeks of the submissive, pushing his stiff eager member into the tight pink haven, with no regard for the whimpering sissy; the other boys laughed as the third grunted with relief. The three departed leaving the crying violated figure on the sand, a fourth boy had watched from afar and gently picked the frightened wretch from the beach, covering the soft body with the warmth of a coat. The sudden extra warmth of a soft kiss startled the submissive and stopped the tears, creating another quandary as the two walked away; both opposing events would stay in the memory forever. As the others developed pecs and biceps, Sandy remained soft and delicate; girls provided a welcome sanctuary from the hardening boys, a yearning to be with them and hide in their clothing became more than a distant fantasy. The girl inside developed, eclipsing the rudimentary semblance of a male exterior; Sandy’s path was set, the lush feel of silk panties drawn up freshly waxed feminine legs became the norm. Moving to districts where she was unknown, she basked in the adoring glances from men who could not know the inner secrets of this beautiful redheaded girl. Sandy’s sweet dilemma was in finding that contact with someone who would want her for what she was; how to make that breakthrough? After great deliberation and much coaxing via e-mails etc., Sandy made contact with a group of people with the same dilemma, and could now share her problems with trusted friends. Ellen and Cindy were regular members of the group of friends and both were of a similar disposition to Sandy; soft and very effeminate, visually female in every way, Sandy loved to compare shoes and clothes with them, it gave them all such a subliminal thrill. Discussing males was always on the agenda, the three receiving lusty looks and comments from men and boys when in public places, those eyes oblivious to the true, full nature of the pretty trio. The girls tingled at the adoration, but knew the unintended tease they created could not be fulfilled with just any good-looking male; they needed a specific audience and would need to venture to those places where their sweet difference was expected, though great care would also be required in differentiating between those whose intentions were simple lust, and those who would nurture a true and lasting passion. Ellen had been around and knew of somewhere discrete that would suit them all; they made a date to take that step. * * * He had struggled with his feelings for some time; he had been married and had c***dren, had never had any gay tendencies whatsoever. Though he had no stirrings or attraction for males who looked like males, he had long had a deep passion for sweet effeminate t-girls. He wrestled with the thought for some time, afraid that this would lead to full blown homosexuality, but years on he had found his desires were just the same as they had always been; males, regardless of shape size or looks, did not appeal to him in any way, but his desire for the soft touch of a t-girl only got stronger. Once he had been happy to simply masturbate over pictures and stories about the sweet effeminate ‘third sex’, but the yearning to actually meet one was ever increasing. Casual contact via the net with those soft pretty a****ls, however taciturn the comments, had him burning with the desire to hold and have that special person. Now he found himself about to enter premises frequented by the beautiful people he sought. It was not particularly humid, yet the sweat trickled down his back as he viewed the club from across the street. What did he have to worry about? It didn’t matter if he didn’t actually talk to one, he could have a drink and just take in the atmosphere and then leave. With fumbling feet he crossed the road and went in…