His cock, still slick from the blowjob, pressed anxiously against me. I felt my pulse race as my desire consumed me. I let out a low, guttural groan a... the head broke through my tight ring. He continued to enter me, inch by agonizing inch. He never stopped or paused, instead he slid his cock in with one very, very slow stroke. I soon became aware of nothing but the sound of the pulse pounding in my ears and the hard cock in my aching ass. For a time, I didn’t know if I could take it – no had. Hence my obsession with hosiery. I realized more and morethat, beneath the chic fashionableness--in some circles--of queer posturingand philosophically hollow gender nonconformity, all of the internalrealities of lifelong cross-dressers like myself still surge and spilland shoot like hot lava, as do the philosophically comprehensive andreasonable principles of androgyny; which principles concern themselveswith the nature of personal and collective holism--ethical, in a sense, aswell as. More

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