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Already year since the death of my hotly beloved mother passed. Year as I replace her in everything. In everything, for the father... except for only one thing: sex. This story how we overcame the last boundary of our normal relationship between the father and the son. Throughout all the life I considered that there is with me something is not right. That I — not such, as all. From the early childhood I wasn't interested in communication with an opposite sex, didn't interest also own as model of role behavior. But I always liked a women's clothing, it was pleasant to watch mother, to watch how she directs the usual maraft before issue. It was pleasant to drag furtively at her cosmetics and to repeat her toilet in all smallest details. It was pleasant to sink in her dresses improper for my slender constitution... For the first time I learned what is with me not so with approach of the pubertal period, and emergence of the first personal computer with connection to the worldwide computer network. Then I also began to turn into the girl secretly. I began to name myself Alice and to speak about myself from a woman's face. Of course, secretly, while at school and with parents, remaining the same approximate boy, let also a little ordinary-looking, to men's measures, and effeminate. Actually, from here and further I will prefer to speak about myself in a feminine gender. I with might and main depilated for a long time bodies, undesirable from all surface, and already had magic feeling of an anal penetration, with emergence in my life of the new silicone friend ordered on the Internet. Then I began to carry on a constant basis the magnificent women's underwear which collected at me is a lot of for few years of use of the Internet. Frankly speaking, all my pocket money left on my secret collecting of women's clothes. In a year of the secret girlish life I made the hard decision to spend on drink a course of hormonal tablets in the near future not to lose the femininity. This decision meant completely to refuse purchase of new clothes, but as it seems to me it was worth. By eighteen years I blossomed, having turned into very nedurstvenny myself the person, to undisguised to amazement, and even bewilderment, people around. As if the ugly duckling who turned into a beautiful swan. Thanks to gormonchik I got breasts of the first size, and at my fragile constitution from sticking out the daddy, I it was just indistinguishable from the real girl of average height. I began to grow hair. Girls from a class envied me while boys, usually, puzzly looked at me, darting the estimating reserved glances at my back. And everything went perfectly, that fatal day when my mother died didn't come yet. She had a stroke. On the father measure her I worked especially painfully: I often looked at the still not the old father and understood that from now on he nobody, except me had. Mother was dear to me, but the father... I wanted to console somehow him, to somehow help him. I assumed overall responsibility on the house: I cooked to it food, I washed and iron his clothes, I cleaned after it, I tried to distract somehow it a trifling talk on abstract subjects... but every month it became more gloomy and more gloomy. He washed down. Somehow time, having come late night, home in a state of intoxication, it came into my room, having thought that I already sleep. Having approached a bed, he stroked me on the head. The father ispytyvyushche looked at me several minutes which seemed me eternity, and then quietly whispered: "And., as you are similar to my lovely Zhenya in youth..." On his face bitter tears zastruitsya. I didn't give a sign that bodorstvy, and it hasty left the room. Then I wanted to turn into Zhenya — my mother. I long thought how to become for him more, than the son — to begin his woman — to become my mother. In my head the plan of further actions gradually was built. I ceased to hide a make-up, walked in a women's shirt on the apartment at night what he, appear, doesn't pay any attention to. Every day I developed the daddy, every day I put to myself a klizmochka, but he nothing is resolute in me I noticed. It became clear to me that it is worth beginning to work far more resolutely, than I act now. And here, one day, I specially left a dildo on the foreground. The father came home late in a half-drunk state. He angrily called me: "And., it that it?! Approach here!" Having overcome alarm, I left to him in the sexiest shirt, lacy underwear, kapron stockings and shoes on hairpins. — Yes, father? The father was stupefied. — And., it... it you? That... that... did you on yourself get on? — angry notes weren't in good voice any more, it is rather a surprise and a fright. — Please, from now on call me Alice, my dear father. — Wait how... why did you so put on? — For you, the daddy. — playfully I answered, and I moved to him on a meeting. He recoiled and rolled up the head. — What are you doing? — half-whisper the father asked. — Anything of that kind. — I told, undoing him trousers. He answered nothing but only he peered into my eyes even more fixedly. And I was kneeling to him meanwhile, being going to caress orally him the sixteen-centimetric dick which was already standing in all the tool. Having kissed a head, I began to drive a uvula on all its length — from the basis to a tip — then took a head in a mouth and tried to move awkwardly the head back and forth. I left, it is necessary to tell, very nasty. But here the father didn't keep and spread my head on the pole on the basis. I as could, suppressed an emetic reflex, tears came into eyes. It began to fuck, literally, my head! Having made couple more of frictions, it released the hot cum in my throat. I got up, having wiped the back of a palm of a tear and the begun to flow ink, and having smiled, told that it still not everyone. He was silent and loured at me. I completely undressed him and having taken by hand, pulled for myself to the parental bedroom. In the bedroom I covered previously a small table, put a bottle of wine and a basket of various fruit, but it, without having paid to all this the slightest attention, attracted me to myself. Suddenly his strong hands were twisted around my girlish waist while our lips adjoined, and languages were weaved in a passionate kiss. I released the for a long time standing penis from under an elastic band of panties that our dicks could adjoin in not less passionate kiss. Having recoiled, I whispered to him on an ear: "the beloved daddy, please, make me the woman!" He took me for buttocks, in turn I clasped him with legs, and we fell to a bed. I don't know how many minutes we spent in this passionate texture, hot caressing each other, but finally, I softly pushed away it and got up a crustacean, having stuck out the appetizing buttocks. Itself in utter disbelief, I said by a languid voice: "The daddy, I ask, take me! Make of me the mistress, the bride!" — Yes... A... Alice... you... you are my bride! — the interrupted whisper he said — and thrust on the balls the penis in my male pussy. Delightful pain spread on all my dicks and I loudly moaned. He drove the of the decent sizes prichindat without using lubricant, but with each blow to me it became more pleasant and warmer, and here I already for the first time cum without touching the dick. It was enough for about ten minutes which to me seemed for hours. And here, he lowers the hot cum in my bosom... We, silently, lay, without daring and to look at each other. And here his hand begins to caress me on a buttock, here he takes me again and again, uses me as maybe as wants... kisses me on a neck, on a breast, on lips. We had sex all night long until both fell flat-out and fell asleep in tenacious embraces each other. The next morning, I regained consciousness one in the parental bedroom. I is frightened I looked round around. I called the father, but the answer didn't follow. I jumped on legs and was run on the apartment. And here I heard a ring of the keys opening an entrance door. The smiling father, with some parcel entered the apartment. — With eighteen-year-old, my lovely Alice! — he exclaimed, stretching me a parcel. — Thanks, daddy! — I exclaimed, having just now remembered what I today day, threw oneself on the neck to it and kissed on a mouth. And here I recoiled. — The P-daddy, you aren't angry for yesterday's? — No, my dear how I can be angry with the dear bride? Give open the gift! I joyfully screamed, and began to develop a gift. Inside there was an airy wedding dress. dating and new york netflix date today latex site mapMain Page