Soma's Journey: Galatea Awakens

Who will bring out my inner submissive woman? While, as a 60+ year old MWM, I'll never be mistaken for a starlet, I am still fully capable of passion. As a submissive with a strong oral fixation, I want you to show me how to bring you pleasure as often as you desire, in the manners you desire. I want you to seduce me and make me yours, eager to worship your body, from head to toe, and to offer you my body, to dress as you desire and to use as you wish.

More than that, I want you to shape me into the submissive maiden that you and I desire. As a person of mature years, I'm not interested in becoming a sissy bimbo (leave that to the youngsters). Rather, I want to be your woman, not necessarily in outer appearance, but in the demure manner in which I approach you, being the lady to your gentleman, being able to carry on an intelligent conversation and being the perfect mature lady in public while being your passionate lover in private.*

*I'm looking for someone special, someone who is literate and sensual, who needs my passion as much as I need his, taking possession of me and molding me into his perfect giver of pleasure. Is that, perhaps, you?

I expected the same result from this ad as the others I had posted: a few semiliterate emails and no real action. To my surprise, I received a response that was both literate and interesting, from a professional looking for a playmate. We arranged to meet at a McDonald's near my work Tuesday.

I ordered a cup of coffee and looked around for a man wearing a green dress shirt and khakis. I saw him sitting at a table with his coffee. We acknowledged each other and he approached me. He was slightly taller than me, with a distinguished face showing him to be in his late 40s and a small bald patch. After making introductions, Dan suggested we talk in his car. He held the door open and we went to his car.

I was surprised to see he was driving a Mercedes. I was even more surprised, and pleased, when he opened the door for me. While he was walking to the driver's side, I took a look at the interior, admiring the wood trim and the soft leather upholstery. It seemed vaguely familiar.

"Nice car, Sir."

"Thank you. But you don't have to call me 'Sir;' my name is Dan."

"Force of habit, Sir. This car seems familar. Have we met before?"

"We may have...a couple of years ago, perhaps?"

"I remember meeting a man at a Starbucks and going to a hotel. Was that you, Sir?"

He smiled. "It may have been. Were you wearing something special under your clothes?"

I blushed, remembering an afternoon of surprising passion and getting fed not one, but two delicious loads of cum. It had been a memorable moment. I looked and saw him smiling at me, seeing the answer in my flushed cheeks.

"Yes, Sir," I replied softly, "I wore a bralette and panties. It was a memorable afternoon."

"Yes, it was. As I recall, they were red. And it was a memorable afternoon."

"I was sorry we didn't connect again."

"I'm afraid that was my fault. Soon after we met, I had emergency surgery and was laid up for a while."

"I'm sorry, Sir. Are you OK now?"

"More or less. But, since we've been reacquainted, would you like to get togther again?"

"I'd like that very much, Sir." More of that cock and cum, yes, please. I resisted the urge to place my hand in his lap.

"As would I. I'll send you my address, if you don't mind meeting at my house."

"That would be great, Sir."

"I have a roommate who will probably be there. Is that a problem?"

Another man in the house while we play? My inner maiden was rapidly becoming my inner slut.

"I don't mind at all, Sir. Do you think he might want to join us?"

He laughed. "No, I don't think so. He's gay, but he just sits around and watches Chat Roulette. He doesn't care for guys who dress up, but who I see is no concern of his."

"No problem, Sir. Anything special you want me to wear?"

"Do you still have that bra and panty set you wore last time?"

"No, Sir, but I can get it again. What sort of stockings do you want me to wear?"

"I have some for you. You won't need to bring anything else, except for lipstick. I want you to wear red lipstick for me."

"Yes, Sir." I was moving to new territory: to this point, I hadn't worn makeup, but I was eager to try. I looked down in what I hoped was a demure manner, not wanting him to see the lust in my eyes. His hand was resting on the gear shift. I wanted to place my hand on his, but this was not the place. We agreed to meet Thursday and I returned to my car, slouching a bit to conceal the bulge in my pants.

When I got home, I found an email from Dan with his address and a request for my shoe and dress size, as well as my height and weight. I sent him the information and almost masturbated considering the possibilities. However, I decided it would be best to wait and maximize my horniness. I could hold out for two days, right?

Knowing little about lipstick, except that I needed to be sure I could completely remove it in a hurry, I went online to research it. After an hour of browsing and another hour on Pinterest, I found three lipsticks that were reasonably priced, matched my skin tone and eye color and were easy to remove. I also made a note to pick up a jar of cold cream and cotton makeup removal pads.

Wednesday, I made a return trip to Costco to pick up the bralette and panties. They were both available in handy boxes of assorted colors. In the past, I had found bralettes were a good fit for me, adding a touch of compression to my chest and pushing the small man boobs I was beginning to develop into something resembling breasts without being too obvious under regular clothing. The panties were lacy high cut panties that showed my cheeks to best effect. Once again, I thanked Costco for installing self service checkouts.

From there, I drove to a nearby WalMart to pick up the lipstick. It was a Revlon light red shade: that should be easy to pick up, right? I walked into the store and wandered around until I found the lipstick aisles...

...aisles? Before me stretched out three aisles with nothing but lipstick, in no discernible order. I couldn't believe the magnitude of the task before me. I walked down one aisle, trying to find any of the shades I was seeking. Who knew there were 784 shades of red, none of which was easily labeled?

I almost asked for help from the women who were picking up lipstick with practiced ease...almost. "Excuse me, Ma'am. I'm looking for a particular shade of lipstick to wear while I go down on a man's penis. Can you help me?" Somehow, I didn't see that as a winning approach.

Eureka! After what felt like hours, I stumbled across the style I was seeking. Breathing a sigh of relief, and hoping I wasn't being filmed as the store's latest pervert, I picked up a jar of cold cream and makeup removal pads and hit the self-service checkout...which was being staffed by a blue vested clerk. She helped me scan my items and ignored by deep blush. At least, I hoped she did: I couldn't look at her. I mumbled my thanks and walked out of the store, wondering what her break room conversation was going to be like.

Thursday arrived. I was glad to have a lot of work, as it kept me from spending the day in a state of perpetual erection. At one point, I had to put a tissue in my briefs to prevent any embarrassing spots on my khakis. Finally, five o'clock arrived: it was time to prepare for my visit. Everyone had left my work area for the day, allowing me to open the boxes I had secreted in my bottom desk drawer. I found the red bralette and panties and put them in my day pack, along with the WalMart bag.

On my way out, I entered the bathroom and stepped into a stall. I slipped out of my shoes, took off my pants and briefs, hanged the pants on the stall door hook and slipped my underpants into the pack. I slid the panties up my legs, enjoying the smooth feeling of the fabric on my skin. Before it could become too aroused, I pulled my cock between my legs and pulled the panties up tightly, trapping it and transforming it into my clit. I put my pants back on and replaced them on the door with my shirt.

Out came the bralette. I slipped it over my head and put my arms through the straps, struggling with how tight they were. Fortunately, there were no clips; the only adjustments I had to make were getting the straps untwisted and pushing my man boobs into the flat cups. I rubbed the outside of the bralette, imagining my man molesting them. I slipped my fingers inside and pinched and pulled my nipples, stimulating them and enjoying a bit of pleasure/pain. Not for the first time, I wished I was able to shave my chest to avoid the comic effect of hair peeking out of the bra. I pulled my shirt back over my head, tucked it in and checked my appearance in the mirror. The straps were barely visible unless one looked carefully.

I walked down the five flights to the front lobby, stepping carefully to keep my tuck in place and working on my heel-to-toe step. No one was in the lobby and I made my way to the parking deck, taking small steps and moving toward my inner feminine mindset. I stowed my pack in the trunk, opened the door, turned and sat down, then pulled my legs in, keeping the calves together. I was already starting to shift to my female persona.

He lived in a two story house in a typical suburban neighborhood about 20 minutes from where I worked. I parked on the side of the road and walked up to the front door. I rang the doorbell and looked around, breathing a sigh of relief that no one was looking at me (as if they would care).

Dan answered the door and welcomed me in. He was barefoot and wearing khaki cargo shorts and a tee shirt. Seeing several pairs of shoes next to the door, I took mine off. To the left, in the living room, a man was sitting watching a cock being masturbated on screen. He looked up at us and returned to his viewing.

Dan led me to a small room that appeared to be a combination home office and bedroom. Besides the computer desk, there was a dresser, a single bed and a mirror sitting on top of the dresser. On the bed was a package the one size fits most black fishnet thigh highs that can be found in the higher end adult boutiques. Dan opened the closet and showed me a swing dress with small red polka dots.

"I saw this and thought you'd look good in it. I also got you some heels," he added, pointing to a pair of strappy black pumps. "And one more thing..."

He brought out a styrofoam head on which was resting a light brown wig with shoulder length hair. Next to it was what appeared to be a metal hair band. I almost lost my tuck as a new sensation washed over me. I had never worn a wig before. I was about to take the next step in unleashing my inner feminine.

"Thank you, Sir," I replied, my voice becoming softer and moving to the alto register used by my inner maiden. I unbuckled my belt and lowered my pants slowly, showing him my panties. He was focused on me, his breathing picking up. I unbuttoned my polo shirt and teased it off, the time spent practicing the cross arm undressing movment finally paying off. I was standing in my socks, panties and bralette, looking for his approval.

He surprised me by giving me a tight hug. "I'll let you get dressed now," he whispered in my ear, making me shiver with anticipation. He walked out and closed the door behind him.

After opening the package, I sat on the bed, took off my socks and rolled the fishnets up my legs, taking care not to tear them. To my surprise, they were soft but sturdy. The mesh was small enough that my toes didn't stick out. Even more surprisingly, they had the paradoxical effect of minimizing my leg hair. After rolling them up, I rubbed my legs, luxuriating in how they felt. This was the first time I had worn fishnets and I had fallen in love with them. I stretched my leg and pointed my toes, feeling like a pinup.

I pulled the dress over my head and straightened it. It fit almost perfectly: a little tight in the waist, but otherwise perfect. The sleeves came almost to my elbow; the hem stopped just above my knees. This was the first dress I had worn, and the cotton caressed my skin. I spun around, smiling as the dress flew up in a most enchanting manner.

Next came the wig. Trying to put it on and fit properly was a comedy of errors. Inside the wig was an adjustable velcro strap, which seemed to have nothing to do with adjusting the wig. Normally, I would have researched the subject and come prepared. However, the wig was a surprise to me, and I had to improvise. Having only worn a wig once before, I struggled with getting it to stay on. I couldn't find a position where it didn't hang down over my eyes. Eventually, I turned it to a point where I saw the hair falling over my shoulders in a natural manner. I used the metal hairband to pull it out of my eyes.

I opened my bag and pulled out the tube of lipstick. This was the moment of truth. I had researched the topic and selected what should be an optimal shade for me, but could I put it on without looking like a tramp or a clown? Using the mirror over the dresser, I applied it carefully, starting at the center and working my way out. I was careful to keep it on my lips and filled them in completely. I took a tissue and kissed it to remove the excess. I wanted to leave an identical kiss mark on the base of his cock to mark it as my own.

The final touch was putting on my heels. I sat on the bed and slipped them on, luxuriating in the feel of the straps on my feet. I tightened the straps and stood up carefully. The heels were tall enough to give my calves an extra pop, but not make me lose my balance. I took a few steps to adjust to the feeling.

I took off my glasses and turned to the full length mirror on the closet door. I was amazed at what I saw. I've always said I wasn't passable and didn't want to be seen in a dress, but looking at me in the mirror was a woman, a woman who wanted nothing more than to please her man. She was the woman I had wanted to be. My heart skipped a beat, and I wondered if it was time to give full makeup a try.

I opened the door and stepped out, enjoying the clicking of my heels on the wooden floor. Dan was out of sight.

"I'm ready, Sir," I said in my best alto. His roommate turned from his porn viewing, took a look and returned to his viewing. I was thankful my glasses were off so I couldn't see his expression.

"You look great." He had come up quietly and stood next to me.

"Could you help me?" I asked, turning my back to him. He zipped up my dress and I turned to face him.

"I hope I look OK," I said quietly, and a bit nervously.

He took my hand and led me back to his room. After closing the door, he took my face in his hands and gave me a kiss. I wasn't a fan of kissing men, but I parted my lips and gave him free rein. Our tongues briefly touched. He pulled my body close to his and I could feel his cock growing in his cargo shorts.

I lowered myself to my knees and unzipped his shorts. I pulled down his shorts and briefs in one motion, needing to see his cock. I sensed him pulling off his shirt, but I only had eyes for his crotch. He had a patch of hair that was full but soft. I inhaled deeply, taking in his masculinity and feeling myself starting to melt in his presence, even as his manhood was swelling with pride, pointing toward me and challenging me to claim it as my own.

I took his scrotum in my hands and planted a loving kiss on each ball before taking them in my mouth. The hair that so disgusted me when I shaved it off my crotch reminded me of how manly he was. What was happening to me?

I ran my tongue over his balls, feeling the hairs tickle my mouth. I had no doubt some of them would wind up in my mouth, but it didn't matter. I closed my eyes and let his moans of pleasure resonate within me as I stroked his cock and felt the first drops of precum form.

I released his balls and ran my tongue up his shaft, giving the slit a brief taste before sliding it into my mouth, feeling it continue to grow as I caressed it with my tongue. I wrapped my lips over my teeth, opened wide, grabbed his firm buttocks and pulled his cock into my mouth. I clamped down hard on the base, leaving my kiss on his cock and marking it as mine. I kneaded his cheeks and slipped my fingers over his ass as I ran my tongue up, down and all around his cock, tasting his precum, which was flowing freely. We were both groaning with desire.

Apparently, he was as needy as I was: after what seemed like only a couple of minutes, he grabbed my wig and pulled me into his groin. His ass cheeks clinched and his back arched. Pulse after pulse of his cock filled my mouth with his pleasure. I swallowed his load eagerly, reveling not only in its texture on my tongue, but in his cries of delight. I had done that for him...I had done that for my man.

I kept his cock in my mouth, cleaning it and feeling it twitch as I tongued his frenulum playfully. When it was too much for him, he pulled my head back gently. I gave his cock one last kiss and looked up at him.

"Thank you, Sir," I gasped, "I needed that."

"So did I," he replied, pulling me up and giving me another kiss. I opened my mouth this time and let his tongue have it way with me. I had never responded like that to a man before, but I had never fully released my inner feminine before. I turned and pressed my back into his chest, my head leaning on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around me and held me close. I sighed contentedly, feeling at home in his arms.

After a few minutes? an hour? a year?, he turned me around and lowered me gently to the bed. I lay back with my head on the pillow, gazing at him and breathing heavily. He unstrapped my shoes and lifted them off my feet. Kneeling on the bed, he caressed my legs and ran his hands over my body, still fully clothed. I squirmed with pleasure as I ran my hands through his chest hair and rubbed his nipples. I despised my own body hair, but his was magnificent and I lost myself in playing with it and twirling it with my fingers. I ran my foot up his shin, reveling in the sensation of cloth against hair and flesh. I wanted him...I needed him...

...and he needed me again. He turned my body so my head was hanging off the bed and, standing beside the bed, fed me his now tumescent cock. I took it gladly into my mouth, sucking on it noisily and humming as it grew in my mouth. I was able to hold the entire length in my mouth without gagging. It felt good...it felt right having him in my mouth.

It felt even better when he started making love to my mouth, sliding his cock almost out then pushing it gently back in. I tightened my mouth to make as narrow a passage as possible to heighten his pleasure. I felt drool rolling down my cheeks, but I didn't care. All that mattered was his hands on my head, his increasingly heavy breathing and his cock taking my mouth and making it his, coating my tongue with increasingly copious amounts of precum...

...and then he pushed hard, stiffened and pulsed one, two, three times. I felt the stream of pleasure fill my mouth. It was thinner this time and had a saltier taste, but was no less in volume than my first meal. I swallowed it as it came out, not wanting a single drop to be wasted. I looked up and saw him looking down at me, sweating. Sometime during his assault on my mouth, my wig had fallen off, but neither of us cared about that now.

I lay my head on the pillow and he joined me. We were both panting and exhausted from our...not sex, but lovemaking. I curled into him and he spooned me. I still wore the dress, but was too tired to take it off. He slipped his hand inside my bralette to rub my nipples. I purred with pleasure, pressing my back against him and playing footsie with him. I closed my eyes and drifted into a semi-slumber.