Farside…

Of course, one of the ongoing requisites of producing and running a site like mine is that I need a regular supply of new cock. Not for my enjoyment of course, purely to provide material for your entertainment. So if you’re within reach of S. Wales, and fancy a good fuck drop me a line either via the comments on this blog or via e-mail from the main site. I’m not in the habit of turning down any cock that comes along so all are welcome. But if you do happen to be a self-confessed, dirty old man who can get a good hard-on (either naturally or with Viagra), and particularly cums off on seeing us girlies as fairies in frocks who deserve a bit of verbal abuse along with the cock then so much the better.

And now, it’s back to work. Ciao!

As mentioned, I had intended to dress on Easter Sunday. I had second thoughts however when I awoke to discover that I had burned my nostrils. For those who don’t know, when poppers get old they tend to cause chemical burns. Unfortunately unbeknown to me along with the new bottle I had made a point of putting in my handbag was on older bottle. Needless to say, when reaching for the poppers the previous morning I had grabbed the old bottle.

The clincher came when I considered missing dinner. Being Easter Sunday it was to be a traditional roast. Having said “traditional”, Paul being Jewish was unaware of the fact that the traditional meat is lamb and had selected pork. Yeah, I know Jewish, pork!? We won’t go there. Anyway, a roast is a roast and I do like my Sunday roast. It may surprise some of you, but the only thing that ever comes between me and sex is food. And when it’s a particular favourite… Well, no contest.

The day was pleasantly relaxing. Paul took Philip off to church in the morning and on their return we got on with the meal. I say “we” got on with it but Philip and I left it to Paul having learned long ago that three cooks in the same kitchen does not work. And besides, Paul’s got an electric cooker whereas mine is gas - so much easier to use as far as I’m concerned. Wow, quite normal stuff, eh. And there’s you thinking trannies do nothing but sex.

The plan for Monday was that Paul would take Philip out visiting for a couple of hours leaving me to dress at my leisure. That part went just fine other than the fact the buggers were about two hours late getting back having stopped off for breakfast. Fucking men!

When I dressed on the Friday, it had been with Paul’s tastes in mind but today I dressed for me. As you will see from the picture, my outfit was almost respectable. Actually, I do rather like long skirts and left to my own devices that’s the look I tend to go for. As the guys were back late, I spent the time taking some pics in the kitchen. I was hoping later in the day to get Philip to take some pics of Paul fucking me but due to Paul having a shy moment that was not to be.

When the guys finally got back I did the outraged girlie bit and let Paul stew for an hour or so before letting him near me. When I decided that he had suffered enough (well alright, when I couldn’t resist the thought of cock any longer) I let him lure me into his bedroom. Paul called Philip in to take some photos. They were rather nice in a sentimental way (you’ll get to see them eventually in the Diaries). They were close-together shots which made us look just like a normal couple. Oh dear, it’ll be violins next.

Philip left the bedroom when he had taken the pics and Paul got down to fucking my mouth before getting up my arse. He had me doggy-style, across the bed so that I was facing the mirror. Fuck, he was on form. Almost like his old self, rigid and eager. His strokes were taking him in to the balls and when he adopted his old position of getting up high so that he was literally riding me I felt that I might be in with a chance of taking some spunk.

It was at this point that Philip came to the bedroom door. It must have been obvious from the noise what was going on so he knocked before entering. I was going to get him to take some pics but this was when Paul decided to go shy on me and shooed Philip away. Damn! But I do have to say that it didn’t put Philip off his stroke and I was well seen to before he finally pulled out. But still no spunk. Not to worry, we’ll get there.

I had planned to be back home that evening so I changed back into guy-mode after tea and after packing, got Paul to take me home at around eight, dropping Philip off on the way.

It was when I went to wash my outfits the following morning that I realised I’d left the Chinese dress and a basque at Paul’s place. I knew he had family visiting in the next week or so so I gave him a ring to warn him. As it happens he’d found them and dropped them off for me a few nights later.

And so ended my Easter holiday.

I’ve got a lot to get on with at this time so I’ve told Paul that I won’t be available until the end of May, but whether I’ll last that long, I really don’t know.

Actually the whole thing is somewhat ironic. Almost a case of deja-vue. The second volume of the comic book that appears in the Sunday Supplement goes into just that subject. I know Paul can’t have seen it so I’m wondering if I might know him better than I had realised. As it happens, the comic is designed to be entertaining rather than a true account but now it seems that it could become more true to life than I had originally intended.

But enough of that. It’s time to reflect on what I (and Paul) got up to over the Easter Holiday. (That’s right, Easter Holiday. Spring Break indeed!)

I had been invited to join Paul and his friend Philip for the holiday. The intention was that I should go over on Good Friday and that Philip would join us on the Saturday. We would then both stay over until the Monday. Being an organised girlie, I got everything ready and the packing out of the way on the Thursday. It will probably come as no surprise that it took a good hour to decide which of my clothes and bits and pieces to take and a mere ten minutes (literally) for those of my male persona.

Oh yes, Paul had informed me that he had arranged for some guy to come over and fuck me on the Good Friday. This had nothing to do with his idea of pimping me out, but I do suspect that it might have originally generated the idea. Well, if he does intend to make his fortune out of my arse, I hope he improves his sales pitch. Yeah, you’ve guessed it, the guy chickened out at the last minute. But at least he had the courtesy to let Paul know so it may have been a genuine case of cold feet. Paul had told me on the phone the night before what he had told the guy to get him interested so it came as no surprise to me when he cancelled. Unfortunately Paul has no idea whatsoever of the protocol involved in talking about us trannies and it seemed likely to me that if anything, he’d probably frighten the guy off. During my stay I made a point of explaining things to him so hopefully he’ll be somewhat more successful next time. Actually I was quite pleased it had fallen through as I didn’t have to rush around like a blue-arsed fly to get ready in time and took the opportunity to unwind a little.

I decided to dress around tea-time. I went for a little Chinese number in black (see the pic) with all the usual trimmings. My hair was similar in style to that which I wore on my last visit but brown rather than blonde. Having now compared the pics from both visits, I definitely prefer the blonde image so I guess I’ll have to buy some more wigs of that colour. Well I don’t want the same hairstyle all the time, do I? I have to admit that contrary to my usual habit and other than the hair, I had chosen my outfit with Paul’s tastes very much in mind. Yes, I know, I must be getting soft in my old age. (More about that in a future article in the Diaries-proper.)

The evening went pleasantly enough, starting as usual with small talk as Paul tried to ply me with drinks. By the time he thought he was in with a chance it was quite murky so the lights were on but the curtains were still open. Paul was standing at a window, looking out at his neighbours’ houses. He called me over. I stood next to him looking out of the window as he groped at my bum. I suspected that I might be in for a poking.

My expectations increased as he moved behind me and dropped to his knees. It seems to be an automatic reflex with me so my bum pushed out to him as my legs spread. I was wearing a thong which was pulled aside as he spread my arse-cheeks. I found myself watching his neighbours through their window as I ground back onto his probing tongue. At some point he must have pulled his dick out of his trousers because he stood and I became aware of it pushing against me.

I reached for my bag which was fortunately on my shoulder and felt around for the lube. Taking it from me he smeared some over his cock and slid it into me. Believe me, sweeties, it’s quite a buzz standing at a window while some guy fucks you even though I knew nobody could actually see what was going on. Unfortunately Paul still seems to be having some problems with his confidence and just as I was beginning to really enjoy it he went limp on me.

That effectively was the end of the evening. Don’t get me wrong, I stayed dressed and the rest of the evening was spent pleasantly enough. But I did go to bed somewhat disappointed.

The next day started somewhat unexpectedly. I had no intention of dressing when I got up so before going to bed I had removed all traces of Nance except my nail varnish. I always leave it until the following morning to clean it off. I was coming out of the bathroom having showered, etc with the intention of cleaning my nails, only to find Paul outside the door. It was quite apparent that he had decided to fuck me whether I was Nance or not.

My excuse is that he was rather persistent in his attempts to have his way. Having said that I have to admit that I’ve never been able to put up much of a fight against Paul and so inevitably he had his way. He did me in my bedroom. I was surprised to find him not just stiff but fucking rigid and have to own up to really enjoying the fucking he gave me. He banged away at my arse in several positions for quite some time but didn’t shoot his load. But so what? I’m sure he will eventually. It just seems to be taking him some time to get back to being his old self and he is, after all, five years older.

And so started my day. And it was very nice to say the least. But fucking me when I’m not Nance? I hope he doesn’t think I’m a queer!

The rest of the day was very pleasant. We took the opportunity while it wasn’t raining to go out for a walk around the local lake and around about four in the afternoon went to pick up Philip.

It was originally my intention to dress for Easter Sunday but my plans went slightly awry as you will see in my next post.