Dirty Dream

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It wasn’t like me at all, I am naturally very shy, but something inside me burned to explore this ongoing fantasy. The need was tangible, I dreamed day and night of being dressed as a girl, giving myself willingly to a man, thrilling to the feel of him touching me, possessing me, filling me. I awoke at night to the clear feeling of my imaginary lover’s cock slipping into my ass, the sensation so realistic that I woke myself with the movement as I pushed back to try to meet him. This night was the fourth in a row, but that was little in comparison to the three years I had been harboring these feelings. Three years, over which time the fantasies had spread out over a myriad of sexual areas then grown and taken shape entirely focused on the centre of my desire, the need to be dressed up and give myself up entirely to a strong sexy man. I felt a huge need to give him pleasure and feel him in turn taking his pleasure from me, the need to be entirely commanded by his will, entirely subjected to him.

I picked up my phone, looked at it for an age in the darkness, the numbers glowing at me, beckoning me. I dialed his number, a number I had memorized, looked at for weeks wondering if I would ever have the nerve to dial it. I didn’t press send, just looked at his number wondering what he would say, teasing myself with the image of him lying naked under thin sheets on a big bed, teasing myself with the image of his face looking down at me. My free hand grazed my nipple, I groaned and my eyes closed, my breath was ragged and hot with desire. I could see his face in my mind, his lips grazing mine as his hips lowered onto mine, his fingers were teasing my nipples, not my own. I was so aroused, so terribly aroused.

“Hello!” His voice came through the darkness at me, it was thick with sleep. I was stunned; I must have hit send without realizing it. “Who is this?” he questioned, still sleepily, his voice deep and slow and even more attractive than I remembered. He didn’t sound irritated, just sleepy. This was stupid, I should just put the phone down and go back to sleep. I should forget about him and my ridiculous fantasies and switch the phone off.

“You don’t know me.” I replied in a half whisper, surprising myself. There was silence at his end for while.

“So, why are you calling me then?” He sounded vaguely interested in a sleepy way.

“I know you are gay.” I blurted out.

“Mmmmmm. You and a couple of hundred other people.” He murmured with a hint of humor. “Are you?”

I didn’t know what to say, his question caught me completely off guard. The silence stretched out between us as my mind searched for a way to say no. “I don’t know. I mean I didn’t think I was, until……….”

“Until what?” He probed gently, sleepily.

“I met you.” I blurted out, lulled by the safety of the anonymity, safe in my dark bedroom.

“Ohhhhh!” He said in a slow rumble. “It’s a long time since I had that effect on anyone.” Then there was a long pause. “It’s flattering, but you should find someone a little better equipped to handle the responsibility of this than me.”

“I dream about you every night. I dream about giving myself to you.” I said, my voice wavering and the words sounding huge in my own head.

“Mmmmmmm.” he mumbled appreciatively. “You have it bad, don’t you! You have no experience of what you’re dreaming about, it makes it all seem more dreamy I’m guessing. You really want to be my boy?” His voice was thick and sexy, a hint that he was a little intrigued too.

I agonized for a moment, then, relishing the moment I quietly whispered: “Not your boy. I want to be your girl.” gaziantep travesti

There was silence at the other end. Perhaps I had pushed too far, perhaps I had misjudged, perhaps this was too much even for a gay man to process and perhaps my dreams had obscured the truth. He was a gay guy, he liked other men, not ones who wanted to be girls.

“How much?” He asked.

I was frozen. Shocked. How much? What? He wanted me to pay him? Wanted to know how much he had to pay me? This wasn’t about money, What?

“How badly do you want this?” He spoke out of the silence. “Is it just a dream, or is it deeper, stronger.”

“Deeper than a dream. It consumes me all night, haunts me all day.”

“Hmmmmmm. How old are you?”


“How long have you been interested in men?”

“I don’t know. It has been growing, I guess, for a year or two, but there wasn’t anything specific. Not until you.”

“How big are you? You sound like a cute little thing!”

“I’m 175 centimeters, 72 kilos.” I replied with a little pride.

“Nice.” He purred. “You are a cute little thing.”

“Are you in bed?”


“Wearing anything?” His voice sounding husky, interested, sexual.

“A satin babydoll, panties and stockings. “

“Huh. How does it feel?”

“Sexy. Slippery on my smooth skin.”

“How smooth?”

“Very. I’m not very hairy and I shaved in the shower this evening.”

“Hmmmmmmmmm, just the way you’re meant to be. No wonder you can’t sleep though, dressed like that. How come you know me and I don’t know you?”

“I see you around, I asked. I saw you come out of the gay bar on fourth one time with a little asian guy and I haven’t been able to get that image of you out of my head. I heard you that night, making love, you sounded so sexy. And now I dream about you every night now. I dream about what it would feel like to be the one with you.” I groaned inwardly. I hadn’t meant to say so much, I sounded like a stalker.

“Where do you live?”

“Uhhh.” I fell silent.

“You live close though, close enough to hear what’s going on in my apartment?” He chuckled. I was relieved that he wasn’t angry.

Slowly I said: “Yeah. I used to be, before you moved.”

“I did move, got myself a nice house with a nice big back yard, lots of space, pretty views. It’s a bit quiet though, seems like a big empty space compared with the city and living in the apartment.”

“Yeah, living here is anything but quiet.”

“Huh. Are you the cute blonde kid that lived in the ground floor apartment over on pacific?”

“Uhhh.” My heart skipped a beat. He had noticed me way back then and remembered me too. “I don’t know about cute.”

“Ohh, Sweetie, if that’s you then you are very cute.” I was swooning. This was my crush telling me things I longed to hear. “You still drive that little Miata? I remember pushing that thing for you to get it started last winter. Me and Jake. Damn, you looked cute and helpless in that little car. When you left, Jake gave me no doubt he had first dibs on you. I thought you’d be with him by now. Didn’t he hit on you?”

“Uhhhhh. I guess. I thought he was just being friendly though. He met my cousin Meg, she stayed with me for a month, he thought she was my girlfriend.” I said, realizing now why Jake had been so attentive. I realized sleepily that this was an admission to who I was, but felt secure in his knowledge of me in the dark room.

“Hah.” He snorted. “His loss! You would have made a great couple, he loves the little subs. He’s closer to your age too.”

“I like you being older than me. I don’t know why, but it is part of the attraction.” I said quietly, feeling as if he was rejecting me because I was younger than him.

“Hmmm. Really!” He said, his voice sounding interested but slow and distant. I didn’t know whether he was contemplating me or falling asleep.

There was a long pause. My mind was going mad. In the silence I was slowly becoming aware of the madness of this call, of the ridiculousness of my imagination and fetish and girlie crush. Finally, I couldn’t bare it any longer. “I’m sorry for waking you with this stupid call, I shouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry.” I went to switch off the phone.

“I’m not sorry.” I heard distantly as I was about to press the little red button. Despite all the reality hitting me I rushed to press the phone back to my ear. “I’m not sorry at all. It’s nice to be woken up by a hot little thing whispering sweet nothings in my ear. You got me all worked up, Sweetie.”

I could barely breathe, but in my excitement I let out a little moan.

“Oh, you horny little bitch!” He chuckled. “So, you dressed up after your evening shower?”

“Yes.” I admitted quietly, with barely enough breath to speak.

“Why? Were you pretending you were coming to my bed?”


“Huh. Where did you get the clothes?”

“My cousin left a lot of stuff that I’m storing for her and then I bought some too.” I confessed.

“Did you put on perfume and make up too?”

“Uhhhhh, no. I didn’t think to.” I replied. A sudden rush of erotic charge ran through me, a realization that I wanted all of those girlie accessories too, the painted lips, the pretty smells.

“Well, Sweetie, if you are pretending to be my girl, you need to know that any girl wanting to get in my bed needs to be looking hot. She’d have hot red lips and mascara and eyeliner and all the rest. She’d smell sexy too, a nice sexy scent. You would want to look your best for me wouldn’t you sweetie?”

“Yes.” I replied quietly.

“Yes, Daddy.” He corrected. “You know that’s what you want to call me. Call me Daddy, I’d like that. Daddies take care of their little girls. You’d like me to take care of you, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy.” I replied in a gasp, the relief exploding out of me.

“Then you need to go and make yourself look pretty for me, Sweetie.” Then he chuckled. “Hah, it felt good to call me Daddy, didn’t it, Sweetie?”

“Yes, Daddy. I didn’t know how right it could feel.”

“Good girl. Now, you need to get out of bed for me, Sweetie. You need to go and put your make up on for me. I’m already horny for you, Sweetie, but it’s only right that you make yourself pretty for me. you can do that for me, can’t you, Sweetie?”

“Yes, Daddy.” I purred, loving the knowledge that he was horny for me, loving being told what to do.

“Pour yourself a big glass of wine to sip while you do your makeup, it might take a while. And don’t forget to turn on the heat. I don’t want my little girl getting cold as she puts on her makeup!” He said playfully.

“Yes, Daddy.” I assented, getting out of bed, putting on the sexy lace robe I bought only a few days before. My whole being was thrilling at this game, this fabulously realistic sexual game. I turned up the heat as I walked first to the kitchen for a glass of Chablis then into the bathroom, rummaging through the drawers of my cousin’s makeup, looking for the best stuff.

He kept up a stream of questions and suggestions as I started to play with the makeup. “How does the lipstick feel on your lips? Don’t overdo it, it’s not paint, it’s make up. Just enough to make your pretty face look even prettier. How does your hair look? How about some gel? Or some glitter? What are you doing tomorrow? Do you feel prettier? How do your panties feel? Do they feel tight in front? Are you aroused? You can touch your little clit, rub it a little through your panties for me, just enough to keep you aroused, not too much though. I don’t want you cumming without my permission. Does it feel good, Sweetie? Pinch your nipples for me, Sweetie. Imagine how it will feel to be in my bed, my hands on you, all over you. Do you have any heels, Sweetie? I love a girl in heels. Put your heels on for me. Tell me when you are finished, Sweetie.” His deep seductive voice rumbled across the phone, I could hear music quiet in the background.

Finally, incredibly aroused, I was able to say: “I’m ready, Daddy.”

“Mmmmmmm, Good.” He purred. “Time for the bedroom! How’s that glass of wine holding up, Sweetie?”

“I drank it all, Daddy.”

“Go and get a refill, Sweetie. You deserve it.”

“Yes, Daddy.” I said heading for the kitchen. Pouring myself another big glass and taking a deep gulp of the cold dry liquid. Oh, how I was loving this fabulous role play! He was so wonderful, so controlled and so patient. So understanding. What a wonderful Daddy I had.

“I can hear your heels clicking on the floor. Which room are you in?”

“The lounge.”

“Do you have a mirror on the wall?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Look in it. What do you see? Is she sexy?”

“Yes, Daddy. More sexy than I could have imagined.”

“Do you have your wine glass in your hand?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Only one?”


“How lonely! Surely you should take one for your Daddy too! Put your’s down and go and pour another.”

“Yes, Daddy, Sorry.” I said as I returned to the kitchen. Pouring another glass and heading back through the living room to my bedroom, he again had me stop infront of the mirror.

“Do your lips look full and red?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Imagine mine pressed up against them, my tongue probing between them, invading your mouth.”

“Ohhhh, Daddy!” I moaned as my hand wandered down to stroke my hard clit.

“Imagine them wrapped around my thick hard cock. Imagine the feel of it in your mouth, my hands in your hair. Imagine the feel of it pressing against the entrance to your throat. Does it feel good, Sweetie, to have Daddy’s cock in your mouth?”

“Ohhhhhhhh! Yes, Daddy, yessss.” I hissed, aroused beyond belief.

“Turn around. Look at your tight little ass in your panties. Imagine my cock there, pushing against you, straining to get inside you.”

“Ohhhhhhh, Daddy.” I moaned as I watched my ass involuntarily push backwards, greedy for the pretend cock.

“Imagine my cock, pushing into you, hot and hard and thick. Imagine it deep inside you filling you completely, my hands on you pulling you tight onto me. You want it don’t you! You want Daddy’s big thick cock inside you!”

“Ohhhhhh, Yes Daddy, please make me your girl.” I whimpered, my ass inside its satin covering rocking rhythmically back onto my imaginary daddy’s imaginary cock. My mind so full of desire I could almost feel him inside me.

“Are you ready to take you Daddy back to your bed? Ready to give yourself to me, Sweetie? Ready to be my girl?”

“Oh yessss, Daddy. I want you so much. Please take me to your bed, Daddy. Show me how to pleasure you and teach me to be your girl.” I said, giving in to a wave of lust, entirely engulfed in a dreamlike desire.

“Knock, knock, Sweetie!” He said, his voice seductive music to my ears.

Then “Knock. Knock!” came the sound of a rapping on my appartment door only two paces away from where I stood.

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