Tuesday, April 5, 2011

The D Chronicles Vol 1 - (Men): Drag

AJ Mclean in Drag c/o tylershields.com 2012.


Drag

Upton Barnard was a man without disclosure. He lived his life with the firm belief that he had everything to hide. Because of this belief Upton Barnard worked very hard at resigning himself to accept most situations in life. Including those that he couldn’t tell anyone about until Saturday night at 10:15 when there was nothing to do but share…

All night the “untold” lay there between them.  Just as he released himself with Celia for the third time he was ready to say it. He could see it happening in his mind before she wrapped her lips around him and looked into his eyes that third time but he wasn’t ready.

Like most men, Upton Barnard had a dirty little secret. Although it wasn’t a traditional skeleton that he kept tightly in his closet. Nope. This was a whopper and he hadn’t been able to tell anyone until now.
Completely unarmed lying next to Celia, Upton let the words rest on the tip of his tongue for release. 

“I have a secret.” And it was that simple that the words came out. Gently Celia placed her hands upon his head to encourage and he smiled. Celia knew that quite often men let themselves go after spending a moment with her and hoped for something different when she asked him to tell her a fantasy. But this was so much better when he said it. She knew that wanted to say more and give her his trust but that’s where it stopped as he took another drag off his cigarette.

“Tell me what it is,” she says. “There’s nothing I won’t do for you. Remember this is the last place for judgment. Especially with me.”

And he knew that she meant it  when she said it. Until this moment with Celia everything had always been a lie. An accepted condition because he couldn’t share the one thing he wanted most. Lie after lie continued because that’s what happens when you build around a falsehood. A lie can’t hold up on it’s on and needs to be surrounds by dozens and dozens to survive.

Somewhere between her hand touching his face and her mouth on his chest out it came in a whisper. With a slight grin Celia nods her head and rises to match his stare. Never moving her hand she stares into Upton’s hazel eyes. When she leans into him further his eyes turn blue with a flash of light. The fear in his eyes indicates for her to slowly approach this and she presses on his cheek. Celia knows what to do next.

She tells him, “I’ve got exactly what you need and it will suit you just fine.” And for the first time since he could remember he felt a sense of relief.

Upton Barnard was always fond of lingerie, particularly lace and garter belts. Especially on women with long legs. Now a woman’s height had little to do with her length of legs. Some of his most favorite women were petite with an amazing pair of stems attached to them. But on Celia who was anything but small or petite, the lace and garters always managed to remind him of how much he wanted to…

“Wear them?” she rambled on behind him in the boudoir. Somehow his mind wandered and she continued to talk. Before he could beg pardon she said it again. “Do you know how to wear them?”

Upton hadn’t done this in years, but he nodded and clasped the garter right along his thigh. The feel of the silk stockings on his thighs was absolutely divine. When he turned to face Celia the reality set in. And it aroused him further the way she almost matched him in size, color and shape. Her hands reached around his waist to slip in and secure the black lace panties. The snugness of the fit was accentuated the touch of her hands on his ass. He’d hardly been in them long enough to enjoy when she started to shift him. With a slight giggle Celia stopped and moved her hands up to his chest. The satin straps of the lace bra untwisted beneath her touch. When she pressed against him he could almost feel himself growing with excitement.

“Tell me about the…” Upton begged.
“You want to know about these.” Celia says while snapping his bra strap and letting the lace cups of her bra rest on his bare arm. “Paris. Silk. Lace.”
“Amazing. More.”
“Your turn. Tell me about you…”

Finding it impossible to hold back any longer, Upton walked across the room and told her that it wasn’t always like this. And he wasn’t. Upton didn’t do this sort of thing. Most certainly not in front of someone else.

“The lace is heaven. I always loved it on you, but against my own skin it’s quite intoxicating. And this… I did this once or twice as a young man and on occasion when an ex- girlfriend wasn’t in town but I’ve never been…”
“You’ve never shared this?”
“No.”

Upton could tell that Celia loved that he hadn’t shared his secret with anyone else. It wasn’t about her when he opened up. Celia told him how exciting his fantasy was as he slid down her silk stockings.  When her hands were on his thighs she told him that his fantasy was anything but a secret. And it meant so much more to him now that it was revealed to her. Upton thoroughly enjoyed Celia unhooking his garters and touching him in the lace while telling him about her fantasy that didn’t involve any more than a newspaper and some honey. For the first time in his undisclosed life Upton Barnard found a situation where nothing was to be resigned and everything was accepted. And all he had to do was reveal a little more.






Drag. Have you ever been in drag? Ladies or Fellows? Oh I know a few... And I’ll never tell. Kisses. Well, I’ve been in drag but never dressed as a man. Maybe someday. Why not. Crazy? Perhaps… But where’s your sense of adventure? Anyway… This one had me thinking about fetishes and fantasies. And talking to people about such things. Now there’s a lot of judgment out in the world. A lot. I’m told… It can’t possibly be helped. Really? Honestly it really can be helped. And my thoughts on this are… it’s not a bad thing as long as other people don’t know. The one thing people agree upon is that once others know about it, then it becomes a bad thing.  Think about it. If that judgment isn’t there, what happens in your bedroom happens in YOUR BEDROOM. It doesn’t matter what it is between you and yours. If it’s what gets you going, then consenting adults shouldn’t worry what other people think. There’s nothing to hide, but not everything is meant to be a public affair. Anyway, hope your weekend was amazing. Mine? Regrouped. Necessary. Enjoy. Kisses. m.

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