My First Time With A Man

Keeping the backstory very, very brief, I started crossdressing when I was about ten and for the next twenty five years of life tried to pretend I was just a straight guy who liked dressing up as a woman. At about age thrity five, I went out to a gay bar for the first time in full femme. Nothing happened that night which does not mean I did not invite the one guy I spoke to home with me. He was gay gay and said I was not his time.

From that night going forward, I knew I wanted to be with a man.  One night I was at the club and meet three people out celebrating a birthday.  Two of them were lesbians, one of whom was having a birthday.  The third in their party was the designated driver, a roommate to the birthday girl.   We struck up one of those friendships that are so common when everyone is out to have a great time and get drunk.

Brad made it very clear that the only reason -- the only reason -- he was in this bar and would ever come to this bar was as a designated driver for his roommate.  However, him and I often found ourselves sitting together at our table while the two girls danced.

I think I asked him to dance or maybe he decided to ask me.  Whichever was the case we ended up on the dance floor and as we danced he reminded again that he was straight -- Nothing was going to happen.   He simple wanted to to dance and he was not going to dance with another guy.

Did he say 'another guy?"  Possibly.  Maybe not.  What ever term he may have used he somehow was already willing to accept  that dancing with me was different than dancing with a guy.

How cozy did Brad and I get at the club?  I suspect not quite as cozy as this young couple, but when closing time came upon us, the four of us were in complete agreement that we should all go back to his place and continue the party.  Now mind you four people could also be seen as two couples.  The two lesbians were one couple.  Were Brad and I also a couple?

His home was a small one bedroom house.  His roommate was staying with him short term and sleeping on the sofa.  I do not know what I was expecting from this after-hours party, but I know I had expectations.  At one point I stood up from my chair and headed down the hallway to use his bathroom and spotted the open door to his bedroom.

After I had used the bathroom, rather than return to the party, I sat down on his bed and waited.  Was I expecting him?  I know I sat there for several minutes and then decided it was pointless  to remain any longer and I returned to the party.

A while longer passed and I stood up and headed down to his bedroom again.  Did anyone know I was in the bedroom?  That I was waiting?  Not sure, I was simply hopeful he would make it down the hallway.  I gave up again and headed back out to the party.

Now I am preferring willing to acknowledge that I might have gotten the wrong message from him, particularly as it was quite important to him that I did not get the wrong message.
However as I return to the living room that second time I found myself almost angry at him.  He had taken me out of the game at the bar and had brought me back to his place.  If he was not going to fuck me, why had he brought me home?

A few moments after I sat down in my chair, one of the girls turned to Brad (most likely not his real name as I cannot recall it) and said, "I think Veronica is tired of all this talking."  Or words to that effect.  Brad replied, "What do you mean?"  To which she replied, "She has been sitting down in your bedroom just waiting for you."

Had I picked up the wrong signals from Brad?  Had he brought me back to his home to fuck me?  The answer to that question is totally moot.  Presented with a clear invitation to fuck me that is exactly what he did.

Soon enough after that brief exchange, I was face down on his bed.  He pushed my dress up about my waist and pulled down my panties and then laid into me.


I cannot recall much of what occurred. How easily did my ass accept his cock? I cannot recall? Did he fuck me because he wanted to or as a concession to his responsibility to do so. What I do recall is someone calling out to me from the living room to 'tone it down some.' Apparently I was making quite a racket.

At one point I told Brad to pull out, I needed a break.  I stood up and stumbled out of the room.  I ended back in the living room where the two girls were having their own party on the living room floor. They told me to go back to Brad.  And when I did so he was right back at it.

It was my first time. It was mostly likely his first time.  It was approaching dawn when I finally told him I had had all I could take.  I can recall him asking for more time to 'finish off.'  I did not have the energy for him to finish off.  I told him I couldn't.  Now I would have known how to help him.  Then I did not.

I never saw him again.  I wonder sometimes what happened to Brad.  Did he become a tranny chaser or would that prove to be a one time thing?  Did he ever go out looking for me?  Did his friends ever tease him about the night he fucked a tranny?  So many questions.  One big answer -- I loved cock.