Most of the dates I have assigned to posts and events on this blog are not accurate and only represent something close to my best guess or in many cases a date largely just pulled out of thin air. For my first time getting fucked as Veronica I have chosen to use my 40th birthday. It would have been around that time. It did not happen on mu 40th birthday but it it had it would have the best and most memorable birthday gift I ever received. And for such a gift what better birthday than my 40th. Well i have to agree my 16th would have been so much better. Or my 18th. Or 21st. But that was not to be.
On New Years Day 1992 I was working at Lord & Taylor in Dallas Texas. I did not know it at the time but within a few weeks I would have to move from the apartment that had been my home for over three years. I could have simply move but I was about to turn 39 and my life was going no where. I made a decision that I had to start exploring my sexuality. Dallas had a vibrant and robust gay scene at the time but I felt it was maybe a bit too vibrant and robust. So i decided to move back to Spokane and begin this phase of my life in a large city that at best had maybe three gay bars. My mode of transpiration at the time was Greyhound. There were limits to how much one can transport on Greyhound so most of my possessions were simply given to friends or left behind.
However at the time I did have a large wardrobe of feminine attire and as best as I can recall one large suitcase and a large overstuffed garment bag were filled with this my ,most prized and essential outfits and other needs. My mother met me at the bus station. At the time she owned a country store about two hours north of Spokane that had an attached home. Rather than make the relatively long drive back to her home she got us two motel rooms. Once we had each retired to our rooms, I dressed up and went out to a gay bar. That was the first time I ever went out to a public place in femme. I will share more about that night on a separate post.
One night about a year later, I dressed up and went out to one of my favorite destination when en femme, a gay bar in downtown Spokane. It was a weekend night and the place was packed but I had gotten there early enough to get myself a table. At one point two women approached my table and asked to sit down. One of them was celebrating her birthday. The other was her girlfriend. The birthday girl was staying with a friend who had volunteered to be their designated driver for the night. “He is straight and is feeling very uncomfortable. We were wondering if you would be willing to keep him company.” It was their thinking that he would be more welcoming of my company because I was . . . well let’s go with feminine in appearance and manner.
He was sitting at the bar and his friends introduced us. I sat down next to him and we started up a conversation. I am not sure which of us suggested dancing. Nor am I sure that if it was me to do so that he agreed when I first suggested the idea. However there came a time when we were dancing together on the dance floor. I recall one snippet of the conversation. He stressed that he was straight and that nothing was going to happen between us.
When the bar closed, I was invited back to their place for an after party. He had had a couple of beers and was ready to get home so he could have some more. It was just the four of us at the after party. At one point I needed to use the bathroom and was given direction. After I had done so I saw a bedroom door open and knew it had to be his room. I entered his room and sat down on his bed. I waited. What was I waiting for? I am not sure. But I gave up after a several minutes and returned to the party. I did not remain in the living room for long and excused myself. This time I went straight to his bedroom, once again sitting on his bed. I waited longer and finally decided a second time to return to the living room.
After I found my chair among my new friends, one of the girls said to their male friend, “I think Veronica has had enough to drink and is ready for something more.” I recall his response. “What do you mean?’ She replied, “What do you think I mean??
My next memory was that of basically being pushed face down onto his bed. He pushed my skirt up about my waist and pulled down my panties and pantyhose. He then entered me. Neither of us was experienced. Or rather he did not exercise any indication of experience. He did not use any lubricant. There was no foreplay involved. If I had to guess — and it would be only a guess — he did not wear a condom. I screamed. And then I screamed some more. I kept screaming. At one point, one of the girls called out to me “Turn it down Veronica” with a chuckle to her voice. At one point I needed a break. I got out of bed and walked back down to the hallway to the living room. I was instructed to return to the bedroom. They were also have a good time. When I did so, he was back in me in a hurry.
The bar closed at 2AM. I do not know how long we fucked but I finally told him I had taken all I could handle. He had not yet shot a load and begged me to ‘let me finish.’ I simply did not have the energy. We called a cab and when the cab arrived and I stepped outside the sun had already risen. Actually it was my second time with a man. The first time had been fifteen years previously. But on that occasion I had not been Veronica. It had simply been one faggot getting fucked by another faggot. I had not yet sucked cock. I could have finished him off with a blowjob but that was not an option I considered and to the best of my recollection not one that was suggested.
I lost his address and I never saw him again. Nor did I see the two girls. It was not my birthday but his cock was one of the best presents I have ever received.