The Girl Within Me

After the evacuation of the Vietnam war, my grandparents arrived in America as refugees. Several years later, my mother was born and grew up in the states. She received a good education and would become a successful architect. My mother then met a white American boy, my dad, and got happily married.

Sadly, I remember little of my father, who tragically died in a motor vehicle accident when I was seven-years-old. Although she infrequently dated after, that she never remarried. 

Given my mother’s Asian heritage, I got given the unisexual name of Ninh, which loosely means, tranquil. It turned out to be an appropriate name, because being of Eurasian ancestry, I frequently got told that I was too pretty to be a boy. Instead of annoyance, my calmness, however, habitually got tested in this regard. Much as I had to endure this ribbing as a prepubescent, it only became worse when I arrived in my teens.

Being slim and only five-foot-six-inches-tall, my hairless physique and girlish face didn’t help in these matters. I always wore my long hair in a ponytail, egged on by my mother’s encouragement. Unlike most of the people from the far east, who have the most incredible jet-black hair, mine, however, was a thick mop and medium brown colour. Most girls at school enviously ‘berated’ me for this feature. The guys at school were not as complimentary and persistently mocked me for looking like a girl.

By the time I had finished with college, I did cut my hair slightly shorter, but it was still shoulder length. I had the distinct features of a Eurasian person, and my skin tone was light. In an attempt to bolster my masculinity, I even attempted to grow a moustache, with the pathetic fluff above my top lip.

Although I was comfortable being gay, I never felt the urge, despite the continual pleading of friends, to dress up in drag. All my buddies believed that if I did so, I could easily pass as a beautiful woman.

What I am about to report is purely subjective and should not be misconstrued as an attack on guys that are into drag. For me, however, dressing up as a woman or attending drag shows never tickled my fancy. The overdone makeup, hair, and dresses always made me feel that this kind of entertainment had a caricature edge to it. To inflame this, the bitchiness and overt female mannerisms perplexed me. If one is going to imitate something that you are not, the more exaggerated it becomes, the more the attempt falls short of the mark. Surely a far subtler approach would be more convincing. On the other hand, maybe I just didn’t get the point of this ‘art form.’ These guys were competing and knew what they were doing.    

Late one Saturday afternoon, as I was visiting a friend named Frank, aka Miss. Understood, who was entering a drag competition that evening, he commenced showing me all the evening gowns he was considering for the event. Enthusiastically I gave him my five cents opinion on the matter. He also showed me a sketch of the makeup he had planned. It was, as always, OTT. I even got the lip-sync performance of the song he intended to do. Knowing full well that it wasn’t my scene, he knew I would not be attending his performance that evening.

As we sipped our wine, Frank suggested, “For fun, why don’t we do you up and see what you’ll look like as a woman.”

“I don’t think so,” I summarily answered.

“Oh, Ninh, just fucking chill… It’ll just be a bit of fun,” Frank exasperatedly countered.

After a bit of backward and forward wrangling, I finally gave in.

Next, I found myself in his shower as he applied hair removal cream under my arms and to my legs, and even my scanty moustache got removed.

“If we are going to do this, let’s do it properly. Besides, I’m going to give you the full treatment,” Frank instructed me.  

Before long, I had curlers in my hair, and as I sat under the hairdryer, I got a full facial as part of the deal.

Following on that, Frank did the understated makeup to my face before doing my hair. I was astonished by the transformation I saw when he finally got done.

Fortunately, Frank and I had similar builds, and the shoes and outfit he chose fitted me perfectly. The cocktail dress he selected was an off-white colour, and the selected shoes were tasteful and had low heels.

Although Frank also supplied me with sexy G-string panties, I refused to tuck and this was not a problem, because being of modest endowment, my package presented no difficulties. I also selected two small beast enhancers that got inserted into the brassiere that Frank supplied for me.

The final product I observed as I stood before the mirror was astonishing.

“Jesus, Ninh, you could pass for a woman on any day and in any place,” Frank gushed. I had to agree.

“You know, it would be such a waste for you not to have some fun as a girl tonight,” Frank naughtily suggested.

“Oh, no, definitely not,” I quickly countered.

“Don’t be so chicken-shit, I know you look down on us drag girls, and maybe it’s time you get a better understanding of how drag excites us. After all the trouble I have gone to, it would be such a waste for you not to indulge in some fun,” Frank challengingly stated.

“Uh-uh, I don’t think so,” I retorted.

“For fuck sake, don’t be such a wuss. You’ll have a lot of fun. Just pop into a bar on your way home and have a blast. Nobody is going to try and rape you and then beat you up if they find out that you are a man. It doesn’t work like that. You are in control. If some guy tries to get a little too fresh, all you do is say that you have a boyfriend and that you are on your way to having dinner with him, and the leave,” Frank concluded.

By now, I had begun to warm to the idea, like a kid was about to do something they knew they shouldn’t, but we’re going to chance their arm in any case. I did look fabulous after all!  

I immediately thought about a gin bar around the corner from where I lived. It was a popular place that not only sold an infinite variety of gin and gin cocktails but other alcohol, including wine as well. Being more upmarket, I felt comfortable that I would be safe for my debut into the drag scene.

Once the deal got sealed, Frank even gave me a clutch bag to finish off my ensemble.

As I drove to my destination, I had butterflies in my stomach. Nervous as I was, a sense of exhilaration pulsed through me. I had a naturally higher-pitched tone to my voice and found as I practiced en route, that softening my speaking voice, it could pass as female very comfortably. Another benefit for me was that I didn’t have a protruding Adam’s apple.

When I finally sat on the barstool in the pub, I have to admit that I was nervous. What intrigued me, however, was the number of approving glances I had received after entering the bar.

After I had taken my second sip of wine, a behemoth entered the place and sat two seats away from me. I would soon learn, the behemoths name was Allister, and he was a powerlifter.

I always liked bigger men, but Allister took that concept to a far higher an unimaginable level. He was ruggedly handsome with a large head and broad features. Allister was wearing a tank top with tight jeans. The jeans looked like they were at full stretch to contain his bulbous thighs and calves, underpinned by massive boots on his feet. His torso and hairy arms were enormous, and his hands were grotesquely huge. The hair on his head and face was short-cropped and very dark.

I glanced at him was with a ‘morbid’ fascination, almost shitting myself.

As I was assessing him, my thoughts were interrupted by a deep rumbling voice as he said, “It’s been a lovely day.”

“Yes,” I demurely replied.

Without invitation, Allister now moved closer and took the stool next to me.

“My names, Allister,” he announced as he did so.

“I’m Ninh,” I nervously replied.

“That’s beautiful. What does it mean?” Allister asked.

“Tranquil,” I answered.

With Allister’s eyes alive with interest, we continued our conversation. I told him about my heritage and job, after which he stated that he was a builder by trade and that powerlifting was his hobby. We talked seamlessly, and I almost lost myself in the deceptiveness of the situation. By now, however, I had begun to realize that I would soon have to make my exit and mentioned this to him.

That situation was brought to an abrupt conclusion when Allister finally asked, “Can I see you again?”

The moment of truth had arrived, and I hoped like hell it wouldn’t be acrimonious.

After a deep breath, I then revealed the truth by telling him about my day with Frank, and how my visit to the bar had come about, before remorsefully apologizing.

I was relieved when I saw no anger on his face. There was nonetheless a discernible look of disappointment in his eyes.

“Just my luck… I meet the most beautiful woman I have seen in years, and she turns out to be a guy,” he sorrowfully reflected.

I again ruefully apologized, before adding that I hoped he hadn’t taken any offense.

“No, I cool. I don’t feel like you were coming on to me. If anything, I was the ‘aggressor’ in this situation,” Allister admitted with a hint of sadness.

As I was about to leave after my farewell, Allister surprised me by asking, “Listen, why don’t you give me your number? Maybe we can get together sometime and have a good laugh about this.”

I did give him my number, an act that I was sure would be a meaningless gesture. As I got to the exit, I took one more look back at him to wave goodbye. Although the disappointment on his face was apparent, there was also a look of intrigue as he smiled back at me.

Once I got back home and transformed back to my usual gender, I could not stop thinking about Allister. Although he far exceeded my taste for masculinity, I had warmed to his charm and found him sexy. Much as I had enjoyed my journey into the drag realm, I was, nonetheless, also uncomfortable with my deceptive behaviour and hoped that I had not caused him too much distress.  

To my amazement, the following Saturday, I did get a text from him, asking if he could pop by for a late afternoon drink. Much as I was fascinated by his request, I was sure that he may simply be curious to see what I looked like as a man. I did also prepare a meal for us, which I hoped I could offer as an apology for my charade the week before.

When I opened the door, I was wearing my usual male garb, with my hair in the usual ponytail.

There was an amusing look on his face as he said hello and asked me what my name was.

“Ninh,” I replied, immediately fathoming that he may have believed that to be my drag name.

As I looked at the confusion on his face, I went on to explain that Ninh was a unisex name and, therefore, I had not needed to change it.

When we finally sat in the lounge talking, I made mention of the ‘apologetic’ dinner and invited him to stay.

“That would be great,” he answered, then added, “But I have one condition.”

“What?” I asked.

“Well, I would love to have dinner with a beautiful woman,” Allister answered with a mischievous smile.

“You want me to dress in drag?” I disbelievingly replied.

“Yes. You said that you wanted to apologize, didn’t you?” Allister countered.

When I had phoned Frank that week to ask if I could drop off the outfit he had lent me, he had told me to keep it, before chuckling and then adding that I may again want to go on another female excursion in the future. Although I didn’t have any makeup, at least I still had the lipstick he had placed in the clutch bag. 

I was finding the situation I was in extremely weird. ‘What is this guy playing at?’ I thought to myself.

Having made the bed, however, I reckoned that I would now have to lie on it. Summarily I excused myself and left for my bedroom with my mind in a quandary.

After entering my room, I quickly moved through to the bathroom to remove the fluff above my lip, which I had started to regrow that week. I even got rid of the stubble in my armpits and on my calves. 

After getting dressed like I had done the week before, I loosened my hair and brushed it out to the best of my ability. Regrettably, I was not able to replicate the curls from the week before, but it looked quite good in any case.

When I finally entered the lounge, Allister gave me an approving smile.

“I’m sorry about the outfit, but it’s the only one I have,” I apologetically stated.

“It doesn’t matter, because you look beautiful in this dress,” he answered as he extended his hand to me.

I watched, totally entranced, as Allister then kissed my hand.

I a state of flux, I then suggested that I should plate up our food for dinner. Allister followed me to the kitchen and stood next to me as I went about my task. Shortly, I felt his enormous paw gently stroking my back before he leaned over and kissed my neck.

‘Oh, Jesus, what the fuck is happening?’ I thought to myself.

“I love the smell of your fragrance,” he whispered, “You should always use this one.”

Once we sat down at the dining table and commenced eating our supper, I almost melted from the febrile intensity of his gaze. My heart was beating so fast that I thought I might faint.

“Ninh, I couldn’t stop thinking about you all week. This situation is unusual for me, and I have never done anything like this before, but I just cannot help myself. But, you need to be a woman for me from now on,” Allister playfully said.

“I don’t have makeup and other outfits because I don’t usually do this kind of thing,” I meekly countered.

“Well, then we must make sure that you take care of that,” Allister said, before continuing, “Most drag queens look like cheap whores that are trying to dress like women. You have class and look like a real lady. Keep it that way.”

“Okay,” was all I could manage to answer.

“I am sure that the other person is a nice guy, but that’s not who I want to get to know. You are the person I want,” Allister said in a firm voice.

I didn’t know if I should feel insulted or not. I was also confused because drag had never been my thing. Suddenly, however, it felt like it was getting forced upon me. Overwhelmingly, nonetheless, Allister was turning me on unbelievably.

My thoughts were interrupted when Allister spoke again, “I’m sure we can work things out, Ninh.”

I simply smiled demurely before asking, “Is the food okay?”

“It’s great, but I’m looking forward to dessert later,” he answered.

“Oh, shit, I didn’t make any,” I innocently replied.

“With a naughty grin, Allister answered, “You’re going to be the dessert… Baby.”

For the remainder of our leisurely meal, Allister’s hand kept stroking my hand and arm as he seductively caressed me with his eyes. Exciting as this was, I was worried about what would transpire later. I was a man, after all.

When we got to the bedroom later, Allister turned up the heat and instantly embraced my body and commenced kissing me. Not only was he a great kisser, but the most passionate lip caresser I had ever encountered. His mouth was all over my face, neck, and shoulders as his lips incessantly nibbled away. I was also overwhelmed by the size of his body as he embraced and clamped onto my frame. I had never had a man a large as him before and intimidating as I had found his size earlier, I was now mesmerized by how great it felt. As clear as it was that he was powerful, his approach was pleasingly firm, yet dominatingly gentle.

Before long, my dress disappeared off my body. As I once more got enfolded Allister’s arms, he murmured, “Just make sure you keep your panties and bra on, baby.”

His request made it clear that the illusion for him was of paramount importance.

After I got placed on the bed on my back, Allister removed his tank top. His torso was hairy with a generous garden path that broadened on its southern journey. Upon discarding his shoes and socks, he stood and began dispensing with his jeans. As I looked at him in his underpants, his legs were as large as I had deduced but hairier and more muscular than I had anticipated. Allister’s Y-front underpants were restraining which looked like an ample erect cock. I was both pleased and concerned about this. I was pleased by his arousal, but also nervous about the endowment that his underpants were concealing. He was a big boy, as the bulge in his jeans had forewarned.

The following scenario then commenced, as Allister climbed on the bed and hovered above me, mainly supported on his elbows and knees. For the next several minutes, as his mouth once again traversed the upper regions of my body, his hands caressed my arms and torso, Allister did not touch my false breasts, nor did he grind his cock into my crotch. As he swayed above me, I did feel the odd brush of his erect dick over the top of my panties.

Eventually, Allister lifted slightly and asked me to turn onto my stomach. When I did so, he moved his head downward, before pulling the string of my panties to the side. His hands re-enacted the parting of the Red sea on my cheeks before his mouth suctioned onto my pucker. The rimming I now received was legendary. I had never before experienced a thicker and more powerful tongue assailing my arsehole. It was like he was worshipping at the cove of womanhood as his tongue lapped and prodded. His zealous groans and the sensation of his actions had me gasping like a bitch in heat as I hyperventilated with lust.

The strength of his fingers was incredible as he pawed on my buns, and when Allister began slapping my cheeks and grunting, my head almost exploded with pleasure. All I wanted at that moment was to get fucked. It took every fibre of my being not to shout out for him to fuck me but his reference of me being a lady restrained me from doing so.

Fortunately, as I sensed that he was removing his underpants, I knew that my wish was about to be fulfilled. After Allister moved up my body and I saw his left arm anchoring his torso next to my shoulder, I knew my backside was about to get plundered.

When he lodged his cock-head at my portal, I knew that an ordeal lay ahead for me because the intruder felt unusually big. As would later see, not only did Allister have a big dick, but easily the thickest one I had ever seen. Above all, the crowning glory of his phallus was what can only be described as an enormous candy apple, topping a shaft-pole of unnatural girth. I was happy I hadn’t seen it earlier, because if I had, I would’ve run away and locked myself in the bathroom.

The infiltration by Allister was uncomfortable, and even after the apple had wedged its way in, the shaft offered little respite. Despite the earlier discomfort, when Allister lowered his body onto me, the solidity of his compression was breathtaking, and it felt like I had gotten ensconced in the most gratifying cocoon of sensuality.

I was under no illusion about what was happening. Allister was straight, or as I had begun to believe, demisexual, after all. I was so enraptured by the moment, however, that I wasn’t interested in overthinking the situation. All I could think about was how gratifying my pulverized sphincter felt as he commenced fucking me. His humping hindquarters had me whelping hysterically as the apple-head scoured my subjugated sanctuary. It was fan-fuckin’-tastic!  

Added to my ecstasy, Allister’s murmurs of pleasure as he humped me was glorious. After an age of bliss, when he finally unloaded, his intonations of affection were mind-blowing. I was not sure if he would leave soon after, but as I gleefully discovered, our first session was a mere prelude to a night of delight.

When I awoke in the morning, Allister was fast asleep. I did not disturb his peace and headed off for a shower. Afterward, with him still sound asleep, I made my way to the kitchen to prep our breakfast. I had enjoyed our sex but knew that I also had to set my boundaries if our relationship was to endure.

As I finally made my way back to the bedroom with his cup of coffee, dressed as a male, I woke him up. As he looked up at me, I could see the surprised look on his face. Unperturbed, I informed him that breakfast would be ready in ten minutes.

When Allister joined me at the dining table later, I placed our meals on the table.

“Did you enjoy last night?” Allister asked as we commenced eating.

“Yes, very much,” I answered with a smile.

“I’m glad to hear that, because I would like to see a lot of you, Ninh,” he said in reciprocation.

I had given a great deal of thought to my experience with Allister so far that morning. Much as I had loved having sex with him, however, I couldn’t see my way clear to the constant feminization to which he had alluded. Drag was not my thing, and although an occasional bit of ‘diversion’ into that realm could be interesting, I could not see my way clear to rushing to the bedroom to transform every time he appeared.

“Allister, I know you are straight, and I respect that. The thing is, I enjoy being a guy, and you also need to respect that. I cannot spend my life scurrying around like a mad person and dressing up in drag every time you pop around,” I informed him.

Allister now looked at me earnestly, before he began chuckling. “Ninh, I’m not as straight as you think. I’m bisexual and happy to enjoy gay sex with you, but I also do like women and will expect you to be one from time to time. Besides, you are a fuckin’ beautiful woman.”

“So, you’ve been fuckin’ with my head all this time, you bastard,” I said as I tittered in bewilderment. “When you met me, did you know I was a guy?”

“No,” Allister earnestly answered, “You had me completely fooled.”

“So, what was your big act all about?” I asked with a hint of annoyance.

“Forgive me. I have a quirky sense of humour and couldn’t resist,” Allister confessed.

“Payback?” I exasperatedly inquired.

“I suppose so,” he replied in contrition, before adding, “But I promise I’ll make it up to you after breakfast.”

“Who says there’ll be an after breakfast?” I admonishingly replied.

“I do,” Allister answered as he placed his knife and fork on his finished plate. Following that, he stood and moved over to me. After lifting me as though I was as light as a feather, Allister placed me over his shoulder and moved toward the bedroom.

“Now, I’m going to show you just how bisexual I am,” he growled as we made our way.