Antonios' Garden

Eighteen months before, after having lived in an apartment for five years, I decided to buy a house. The home needed quite a bit of work but the two-acre garden, having been neglected in the preceding years, needed a miracle. The house renovation was the easy part of the transformation and within four months it was looking great. Two months later I met Antonio, a gardener, who was recommended to me by a neighbour.

Antonio was stocky, with the most beautiful brown eyes and long black eyelashes I had ever seen. He was heavily tanned, hardly surprising given his vocation, with the most butch hands I had ever seen on a man. He had hairy legs and one further physical feature that drove me to distraction. He had extremely bandy legs. Don’t ask why, but bandy men have always driven me wild. Antonio had a reserved demeanour and always treated me in a deferential manner. He always referred to me as Mr. Stanley, despite my constant requests for him to use my first name, Stanley. I eventually gave up trying to persuade him otherwise and went with the flow.

Antonio worked in my garden on Wednesdays and Saturdays. Wednesdays he would do all the weeding, bed edges and mowing, and on Saturdays mornings we would visit nurseries to buy all the plants required to transform the garden. Fortunately, money was no object, as I earned a good salary. A year later, Antonio had transformed the garden into a wonderland and passers-by often stopped to ogle and gawk.

When Antonio, therefore, informed me that he would no longer be able to work for me, I thought my life had come to an end. The accommodation he had been renting had simply become too expensive for him after a recent increase. Although he was employed six days a week, he simply wasn’t able to make ends meet any longer. He had been offered a job on a farm, where although he would receive a lower salary, it included free accommodation.

Stunned, I went into a flap on a Saturday when he informed me of this development. As he busied himself with his work, my mind went into overdrive. By lunchtime, I had found what I hoped would be a solution. When I mentioned that he was welcome to use my garden cottage in exchange for free garden service from him on Saturdays, the look of delight on his face was unbridled. That afternoon we made an assessment of what needed to be done to the cottage. We went off to buy all the paint required, and he offered his service on Sunday to do all the necessary painting.

Antonio arrived early on Sunday with two friends, and by that evening the place was looking remarkable. The following week, I took some overdue leave to ensure that all the other work that needed to be taken care of in the cottage was done. I purchased all the bits and pieces needed, and by weeks end the place was looking fantastic.

When Antonio arrived the following Saturday, he was stunned. What especially delighted him was the thirty-two-inch flat screen television that I had installed. I had won it in a raffle six months earlier, but already having two televisions had never needed to use it.

By Sunday evening Antonio had moved in, lock, stock, and barrel. In all honesty, I had long planned to fix the cottage. Having killed two birds with one stone, however, I was thankful to be retaining my brilliant gardener.

The following week we got into our normal routine. Cooking for two was actually easier than cooking for one. Mondays to Fridays I would plate up Antonio’s food for him, and he would eat in his own quarters. Antonio took care of his own breakfasts and lunch. On weekends he also did his own thing where food was concerned. Most weekends he would leave after work on Saturdays, to visit what I presumed were family or friends.

A few weeks after Antonio moved in I was standing in the back garden one evening. I found myself inexorably drawn to his bedroom window. With his curtains slightly open I peered in. Moments later I observed him enter his bedroom after a shower. The sight arresting my eyes was one of complete wonder. Antonio had a thick uncut dark sausage which nestled on the plumpest balls I had ever seen. The entire package was framed by a dense bush of black hair. My knees almost gave way from under me.

As he dried his hair his knob flopped about. When he pulled the towel between his legs to dry his arse, my heart almost stopped. I had always thought him good-looking, but naked he was totally mesmerizing.

That night I had a sexual dream about him.

The following evening I repeated my performance from the previous night. In fact, this obsession now took complete hold of me. My jerking sessions were always about the Hispanic god that lived in my cottage.

Two weeks later, on a Friday evening, as I was visually feasting on the beauty before me, Antonio exited his room after putting on a pair of shorts. I hung around a short while longer, hoping for another glance at my compulsion.

“Mr. Stanley,” I heard a voice behind me inquiring.

With my heart spinning in my chest I turned. “Are you looking for something?” he asked.

With my mouth hanging open like an idiot, I just stood there stupidly. All I could manage to say was, “Please, call me Stanley.”

Smiling he replied, “I think you like looking at me naked, Stanley.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” I said quietly, before he interrupted.

“That’s okay,” and then after a brief pause, he rubbed his crotch before asking, “Would you like to chupar mi verga amigo?”

“Si,” I replied, nodding with embarrassment.

“Do you like tequila,” Antonio questioned.

“Yes,” I answered, surprised by the question.

“Great, come,” he replied, gesturing with his head.

Antonio led me into his cottage. After pouring each of us a shot he handed me my drink. Having slugged back our drinks he again produced the bottle and poured us each another tot. Again we gulped the liquid down. Antonio then took my glass from me and placed it on the counter. His eyes had a look in them that I had never seen from him before. The shyness was gone and had been replaced by an assertive gaze. With a horny grin he moved closer and pulled my t-shirt off me. My body shuddered as he placed his beefy hands on my shoulders, before running them down my arms.

“No hair on your chest, just the way I like it,” he said, caressing my torso.

Next, after lifting my arms he sighed. “That hair needs to be shaved,”

Astounded, I didn’t reply. Then, after pulling the front of his shorts down and placing the elastic under his balls, his tackle flopped out on full display.

“Is this what you are looking for?” Antonio asked smiling. As I looked down, the object that I had admired for so long had grown substantially.

“Yes,” I whispered.

As I toyed with his silky fat tube Antonio placed his hands on my cheeks and ran his thumbs over my lips, before pushing them into my mouth. Wedging his broad thumbs between my upper and lower jaw he asked, “Will you be able to take this pinga, Stanley?”

“Yes Antonio,” I spluttered.

Removing his thumbs, he lightly patted my cheeks before saying, “I hope you don’t disappoint me, Stanley. Do you want to be Papi’s woman?”

“Yes,” I pleaded.

“Are you sure, chica?” He inquired.

I nodded lustfully, little realizing where this situation would ultimately lead. Antonio then led me through to the bedroom, pulling by my wrist.

After pushing my shorts down slightly Antonio said, “This hair also has to be shaved, Stanley, and the hair on your legs as well.”

I was totally confused, wondering what all the hair removal shit about.

Pulling the elastic confining my ponytail off, he then ordered me to shake my hair loose. My blond hair was shoulder length; I had decided to grow it several months before. Antonio’s broad fingers approvingly pushed their way through my thick mop of hair.

“Make sure you are smooth when I arrive back on Monday,” he ordered.

“Yes Papi,” was all I could think of saying.

Pushing me down onto my knees, he shoved his thick cock towards my mouth. Antonio clasped the back of my head and began pushing forward. Because of his girth, I could only manage fifty per-cent of his cock in my mouth. After a minute or two of frantically spluttering on his knob, he came. I swallowed a bucket load of cum as he grunted loudly.

After I got up he said, “On Monday I want to meet Stacey, shaved and smooth like a woman.” I nodded.

“Goodnight, Antonio,” I said, as I left bewildered.

On Saturday we didn’t need to buy any plants and our interaction was brief. I was, however, astonished to find the regular Antonio working in the garden and our interaction was as it had always been. I was even referred to as Mr. Stanley once more.

That afternoon, I went to the mall in somewhat of a daze. In a large and well-known department store I encountered a very effeminate, young male sales assistant.

Playing open cards with him, he took me under his wing and an hour later I left with makeup, depilatory creams, and an assortment of lingerie. Fuck knew why, because I had never wanted to dress up like a woman and felt like I had just entered the twilight zone.

‘What the fuck am I doing,’ kept repeating in my head.

When I arrived home quite late that afternoon, Antonio had already left for the remainder of the weekend.

On Sunday morning I walked around in a stupor.

“Seriously,” I kept asking myself aloud. “Am I really going to go through with this shit?”

However, thinking about the heavenly Hispanic who had taken control of my life, my mind answered a resounding, “Why the fuck not?’

That morning, I actually had more fun than I had had in a very long while. I had never contemplated giving vent to my female side. But, amazingly, I was having a great deal of fun.

After all the hair removal had taken place I had a shower. I even found an old hair dryer and fluffed up my locks to give them a rather feminine look.

Next, I set about applying makeup to my face, which was a lot harder than I had realized. After an hour or so, however, I had done a pretty good job.

‘Mmm, perfect,’ I thought.

Next, the bra, panties, and stockings followed. I had chosen a chocolate brown ensemble, which the effeminate assistant advised would suit my fair complexion best. He was right! The slightly padded bra also gave me a wonderfully feminine frame. Fortunately, I had small hands and feet and so the final result had a very authentic look and feel. The stockings were epic!

After putting on the silk slippers I had bought I minced around before the mirror, transfixed by my metamorphosis. The sheer nightgown I had bought was the cherry on the cake.

“Fuck, me,” I said aloud, “I could pass as a woman any day of the week.”

Having had my dry run I returned to my normal persona.

The following afternoon when I arrived home after work I made our dinner as usual. By six-thirty Antonio had collected his food.

At around seven-thirty I went to my bedroom and began my transformation, and by eight Stacey was standing on the back porch.

Shortly, I observed Antonio’s front door open, but he did not emerge.

I slowly moved toward his door with a great deal of trepidation. As I arrived at the door I saw him sitting in his lounge. Observing me his face lit up. The relief I felt was enormous, pleased that I had read the situation correctly.

He arose and walking toward me, he said, “Welcome, Stacey, you look beautiful.” I smiled demurely.

Taking me by my hand he led me into the lounge where two glasses of tequila were awaiting us. After picking up both glasses he presented me with mine. Once the liquid was consumed he placed the two glasses back on the table.

Next, after moving toward me and placing his right hand on my neck, Antonio pushed his fingers upward into my hair. Very slowly, he moved his lips towards mine and lightly kissed me. He then moved his lips toward my neck and uttering a sensual sigh, gently kissed my neck.

Antonio’s left arm then encased me as he pulled me into his body. Returning to my lips, he began to kiss me more fervently. With both arms now embracing me, he began rubbing my back as his oral attention escalated even further. Then, with his left hand controlling my head and his right hand on my back, I could feel him pushing his hard knob into my body. As the grip and grind went along for the next while, I became increasingly intoxicated by his manly odour. Antonio had obviously not showered yet that evening.

After our bodies moved slightly apart, he unfastened the cord of my nightgown and let it drop to the floor. Again he enfolded my body and continued his sensual embrace. A short while later, Antonio asked me to place my arms around his neck before he lifted my body and cradled in his arms, carried me to the bedroom. After placing me on his bed he pushed his shorts down and kicked them to the side. As he moved up and over my body, he gently pushed my legs apart before resting on top of me. With my head nestled in his hands, his kissing further intensified.

As his hips swayed rhythmically he ground his cock into me. After a short while Antonio lifted onto his knees, before he slowly began removing my panties.

“Turn for Papi, chica,” he uttered softly.

After turning, Antonio began to rim me. He did so in a leisurely manner, lapping at my hole like a person savouring an ice-cream. Whimpering like a girl I convulsed with pleasure. When his body finally moved over me he apologized for not having showered.

“I hope that you will only shower in the mornings from now on,” I sniggered hornily. Antonio then let out an approving laugh.

As Antonio encased my body, the heady smell of his hairy pits infused my nostrils. Slowly, I began to feel his dick searching for my hole. After nudging my arse-lips for a short while, I felt him prizing me open. Again I let out a feminine whimper as his urgency strengthened. My manhole capitulated to his excavation as he delved ever deeper. I had never enjoyed such fulfilment before. His fat knob stretched and dilated my hole to its limit.

When he eventually commenced thrusting into me I howled approvingly. My ears and neck were lovingly nibbled and kissed, as he plunged his dick into my backside. I prayed that the bliss would not end too soon and begged him to take his time. On and on, my pleasure ensued as he kept altering his pace and intensity. Antonio’s grunting and the rich smell of his body drove me out of my mind. My cock finally erupted all over his sheet as my body shuddered.

A minute later, Antonio growled loudly as he seeded my hole on outstretched arms. Collapsing on me afterward he groaned his approval as his body continued to twitch on top of me. He did not get off me for the next few minutes and we lay there united in bliss.

The Stacey transformation had been well worth all the effort.

When Antonio finally lifted off me and got off the bed, I followed and fell to my knees to worship at the altar of his manhood. As I ran my hands over his butch bandy legs, I paid tribute to the cock that had given me the best fuck of my life. Antonio’s approving groans were loving and sensual, as he smeared his knob all over my face, while massaging my head with his rough hands.

When his hardness began to return I was totally delighted. My mouth welcomed his dick enthusiastically, as he again began to manipulate his hips in a lustful manner.

Fortunately, given my horniness, I at least managed a little more of his cock on this occasion. Regrettably, I never managed the entire knob because Antonio’s cock was just too thick.

After five more minutes, he pulled his dick out of my mouth and after a few lusty tugs on his knob, shot his second load down my throat.

After another brief kissing session, I returned to my home and I had the best sleep of my life.

Over the following year I enjoyed a sexual relationship with Antonio. Truthfully, I knew it wouldn’t last. Antonio wanted to marry and have a family.

Finally, he accepted a job offer on a farm close to his bride to be because of her attachment to her family. He was very emotional on the final evening before his departed.

After Antonio had left I disposed of all the makeup and creams from my former existence. Strangely, I retained all the lingerie which had grown substantially over the previous year.

Over the next month, I had to endure the services of a really disagreeable gardener whom I really did not care for.

Mercifully, a month later I received a call from Antonio asking me if I would employ a younger cousin of his named Joao, a twenty-one-year-old whom he highly recommended. I offered Joao the same deal as Antonio. Fortunately, all Antonio’s former employers also agreed to use Joao’s services and we were all finally rid of the miserable gardener, whom we all despised. Joao turned out to be brilliant!

Joao was not as good-looking as Antonio, but not too shabby. He was taller and slimmer than Antonio and sexy in an odd way.

A few evenings after Joao started working for me, I was standing outside on the back porch. After a short while, Joao exited his front door and waved to me. As he casually rubbed his crotch I felt a sense of Deja vu.

After re-entering his cottage I saw him opening his bedroom curtains moments later. Entranced, I moved towards his bedroom window. When I peered in Joao was standing with his legs apart, tugging on his knob.

‘Jesus’ I thought, ‘this family was in the front row when cocks were being handed out.’

Plucking on his dick with a shitfaced grin, he motioned me to join him.

Obediently, I headed for the front door, which had already been opened. Joao was already in his lounge and continuing to languidly stroke his pole. Engrossed, I entered and was immediately instructed to get on my knees. His cock was not as thick as Antonio’s, but longer.

Gripping my head he slid his knob into my mouth. Because of its smaller girth, his dick was soon sliding down my throat with ease. Joao was not as gentle as Antonio and a lot more verbal. My face-fucking was vigorous and noisy. Unlike his cousin, Joao appeared to be very happy with me being a man.

Sex with Joao was always rougher than with Antonio, which did not worry me in the slightest. As much as Antonio’s sexual ‘female’ requirements had never really troubled me, this new approach was much more enjoyable. An added bonus was that Joao had an even stronger body essence than Antonio.

Two weeks later, when Joao moved into the main house with me I could not have been happier. Joao was totally disinterested in women, which was also infinitely preferable to me. He had a mega sex drive and there was a place in our home, where I wasn’t anally or orally infiltrated.

Much as I always remembered Antonio with great fondness, Joao was definitely more suited to my needs. In addition, Joao was a brilliant cook and as a result my culinary mediocrity finally ended in our household.

 Who could ask for more?