It was so freakin’ hot out, but I had work to do. My summer job, while my neighbors, the Johnsons, were away for two weeks, was to weed their flower bed and mow their lawn. Mr. Johnson had left me a long list of “to dos” on their kitchen counter. They’d left me the key, letting me know that I could help myself to a cold drink if I felt like it. After an hour on my hands and knees yanking weeds, I was dirty and sweaty. I’m eighteen and I sweat like crazy. I felt like a sticky mess.
I went inside. After downing a Coke from the Johnson’s fridge, I decided I would take a shower upstairs. I wasn’t supposed to, at least I hadn’t been given explicit permission for that, but I didn’t want to go home and do it. Plus, after I showered I could do what I really liked about this little summer job, which was snooping. I think the only reason I took the job was so I could sneak around their house and see what I could see.
My parents had encouraged me to take the work, saying I could earn some pocket money – like, if I wanted to take Mary Johnson, the Johnson’s teenaged daughter, out for a milkshake, I could pay my own way, like a real man. My parents had been teasing me about my “crush” on Mary for years. It was so awkward and embarrassing. Mary was like a sister to me. We watched soap operas together and blabbed about celebrity gossip. Sure, she was beautiful, and starting even to be a little sexy, but I just didn’t think of her like a girlfriend. I didn’t think of any girl like that.
The Johnsons were sort of loaded, I have to admit. My family was not poor, but nothing like this. Their house seemed palatial. They had six bedrooms. The master bath was enormous, with luxurious fixtures and a jacuzzi tub.
I stripped down to nothing while the shower was warming up. I caught a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror. I blushed as I saw my face… those cheekbones, my mother’s friend had said. “I’d kill for his cheekbones. And those legs,” she had said. “If I had legs like that, I would have worn miniskirts.”
“They didn’t have miniskirts back then, Gladys,” my mother had said, and then they had both laughed, looking me up and down. Awkward! Yikes, didn’t those old bitches have any sense of propriety. But at least I knew: I had great legs and cheekbones.
I looked down. My cock was so small… would it ever grow bigger? It was about the size of my pinkie finger, but shorter, if you can even imagine. I tried to cover it up with a towel in the locker room, but I got noticed anyway. My nickname was pencil dick. More blushing and humiliation. My friends all had long, thick cocks and bushes of pubes. I tried not to stare at them, but I snuck glances here and there. I was fascinated by their size. Was I even turned on? It was mortifying to imagine that I was. Would that mean I was gay? I didn’t want to imagine that. But still, I couldn’t stop thinking about how well hung some of my friends were getting.
I toweled off and put my clothes back on. Now it was snooping time. First, I hit Mr. Johnson’s home office. I found his porn stash easily. There were a bunch of magazines that I flipped through… lots of young girls with huge tits and shaved pussies. I liked that shaved look, though not to turn me on, but rather in making me curious what it would feel like to look like that… to be smooth like a girl. Stop that, I thought. That’s a really gay way to think.
One of the magazines had a male-female photo set. The woman was on her knees, ready to take the guy’s enormous dick into her mouth. Wow… I had never seen anything like that before. It had to be ten inches long and was nearly as thick as a soda can. I stared and stared… what a cock… what a man… I started to feel excited. No, stop it. I closed the magazine and shoved it back in the drawer… but then I took it back out again.
I went back to the page. There were a bunch of photos that showed the man’s cock and balls. His balls were also very large, hanging low. I was transfixed. I felt my little cock grow hard. I put the magazine away again. I needed to get out of here. This was not right.
But, I kept snooping, this time in Mrs. Johnson’s dresser. She had a whole drawer full of women’s underwear and bras. I took out a pair of black silk panties and rubbed them against my face. So smooth and sexy. I put them back and went into her closet. She had tons of dresses and high-heeled shoes. I tried on a pair of her high heels and wobbled around the room.
My cock hadn’t gone soft. I was still thinking about that man’s big sexy cock and that woman, so ready to take him in her mouth, to serve him, to worship that cock and eat his cum load.
That’s when I had a major insight. (Well, at the time, I wouldn’t have used that word. That’s a grown-up word that I learned later in one of many therapies that my parents had arranged to “cure” me.) My insight was this: I wanted to be her. I wanted to be on my knees accepting a massive cock in my mouth.
It was a confusing and deeply embarrassing thought. Me? Do that? Never… but… but… NO. Stop it. You don’t want this, but you do want this. It’s disgusting. It’s sexy. Can it be both?
It didn’t matter. I was on autopilot. As if in a trance, I stripped my clothes off again and headed back to the shower. Mrs. Johnson had a pink razor in there. I soaped up and started to shave my legs. Would anyone notice? I could wear long pants until the hair grew back. I did my legs, and then my underarms, not that I had much hair there, but if I wanted to be the girl in the photos, I had to have hairless sexy underarms. Then, my pubic hair. It took a while and I nicked myself. Ow! But then it was done. I was completely smooth.
I got out of the shower and dried off. I took a look at myself. Not bad… hairless and smooth now, like a girl. My poor tiny little cock was raging hard again. I touched myself and started to picture myself with that fat, dripping cock in my mouth. I kept going for a while, but then stopped. I needed to do more.
I went into Mrs. Johnson’s makeup cabinet. I was really crossing a lot of lines here. It was one thing to use their shower. It was another to use her makeup. She would find out. She’d call my mother. It would be a disaster, but I couldn’t stop myself.
I picked a lipstick, a bright sexy red, and put it on. I didn’t know what I was doing, so it was sort of messy. Still, I like the way it looked. I added some blush and eyeshadow. I was starting to look like a girl. Those cheekbones! That’s when I remembered the wig in the closet.
Mrs. Johnson had sort of thinning hair. I’d seen her a few times without the wig. I went back to the closet and found several wigs on styrofoam heads. I picked one with shortish blond hair and put it on. I grabbed a pair of lacy panties and pantyhose from her drawer and went back to the bathroom.
I put on the panties and pantyhose. I went back to the mirror and took a look. To say I was shocked by the way I looked would be an understatement. I look like a girl! All I was missing was tits. Holy shit! And, you know what? I looked GOOD. I looked SEXY.
My poor little cock was throbbing now. I pulled the pantyhose and panties down and started stroking, harder now. Harder… think of that big cock… yes, he wants to cum in your mouth, cum all over your face so it drips down your chin. Will you lick it up like a good girl? Yes, yes, yes… give me that cum.
I shot a load of cum onto the mirror. I watched it drip to the floor. I was breathing hard, so excited and a bit freaked out. I would put everything away and clean up. I was never going to do this again. NEVER!!! But even as I thought that, I knew I would be back…
To be continued…
