Just a Normal Couple

To the untrained eye we look like just another normal couple walking down the street. Beautiful girl with a handsome guy, both smiling and laughing, holding hands with each other. But if you were to look a bit closer you would realise not all is as it seems. You see, my name is Paul and I am the beautiful girl. My girlfriend's name is Sarah and she is the handsome guy.

Sarah and I met at university, we were both Arts majors, and we quickly became friends. We were both the youngest children in our family - I had two older sisters and she had two older brothers. I guess our shared experiences of being bullied by our older siblings really brought us together. After 6 months of friendship Sarah surprised me by asking me out on a date. We had already done plenty of stuff together, like movies and dinners, but this time she was asking me out on an actual date. I had had girlfriends in the past, but Sarah was my first serious relationship, and a year into being together I thought to myself that one day I would marry her.

You're probably wondering where the gender-swap thing comes in to play. I can't speak for Sarah, because we've never explored the why in her instance, which may have something to do with having older brothers and men not being good at expressing emotions, but that's just a wild generalisation. For me, though, it was growing up with two sisters. From an early age I was an outsider because I was the boy, and because I was the youngest, so I was always the "dumb" one. So, any time they gave me a chance to prove myself to them, I took it without question. My sisters knew I wanted to impress them, so they went out of their way to humiliate me. This often took the form of modelling for them. That's right, my sisters would dress me up in their clothes, put make-up on me, and make me model for them. I did this, off and on, from the age of 5 until about 16. They always used to tease me for being so short and effeminate, and my decision to grow my red hair long really added fuel to their argument. Eventually my sisters moved out of home and the modelling and ridicule stopped. In fact, pretty much all contact with my sisters stopped - and I was glad. But these modelling sessions got me hooked on women's clothing and I continued to crossdress in secret. Over the next few years I accumulated a collection of panties and bras through online shopping and tried them on when no one was home. When I met Sarah the urge to crossdress went away. I no longer thought about wearing women's underwear and I completely forgot about my stash, hidden away in my closet.

I should tell you more about Sarah. Well, Sarah wasn't your pretty girly-girl in those days, but she wasn't unattractive either. She rocked a little more of a tomboy look, but that, she says, is because of hand-me-downs from her older brothers. She's a little bit taller than me but she doesn't tower over me or make me feel inferior about my height. She didn't have big boobs either, but I was never one for those. After we were dating for a while she got a pixie hair-cut, which brought back a bit of femininity to her look. I usually wore my long hair in a loose ponytail, and if it wasn't for my red beard and hairy legs, I'm sure people would have thought we were a lesbian couple. But we never cared what others thought about us. We were happy together, and happy to be us.

When we graduated from university we decided to move in together. We wanted a change, so we moved interstate into a big city, somewhere where we could find ourselves. This is where our relationship dynamic really changed. When we were packing up my things, Sarah found my stash.

"Uh, what's this?" she asked. I turned around and the blood drained from my face. Shit.

"It's, um..."

"Are you cheating on me?" Her eyes burned with rage.

"N-n-no!" I managed to say.

"So, you mean to say that these are yours?" Fury still evident in her voice.

"Well... y-y-yes... they are..."

There was a long pause for, what felt to me, an eternity. This was the moment I saw my world crashing down. This was the moment that I saw my happiness evaporate before my eyes. Sarah's shoulders relaxed and the fire in her eye's extinguished.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were a crossdresser?" she asked

"Because I'm not. I mean, I haven't worn them since we started going out."

"Is it because you thought I wouldn't accept you?" a slight quiver of offence creeping into her voice.

"No, of course not. I guess I had you to fulfil my needs, and I kind of just kicked the habit."

Sarah paused for another moment. My heart was racing. I've never told anyone about my urges before. I did tell Sarah about my modelling career - though I left out the bit that I only stopped after my sisters left. For all she knew, it only happened once or twice when I was quite young. But watching at her as her mind raced to digest the situation in front of her, I knew she was beginning to realise that I might not have been entirely truthful.

"I'm not mad," she said finally, "In fact, I feel a little bit guilty because I'm not the shining beacon of truthfulness you think I am."

I was puzzled by this and decided to push the subject.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"For years I have been having these... fantasies."

"About what?"

"About what it would be like to..."

"To what?"

"To be..."

"To be what?"

"To be a guy!" she suddenly shouted. I realised that I should have been a bit more delicate with my interrogation. But at least, I thought, the truth was out there. I still wanted to know more, so I kept pressing for answers.

"How do you mean? As in, you want to get a sex change?"

"No, of course not!" she sighed, "It's just that I grew up with two older brothers, and it seemed their lives were always so easy. So sometimes, I just fantasise about being a guy. And when we started dating, these fantasies started to include you..."

"Me?!" I said, shocked, "Me how?"

"Well... I imagined our roles were reversed. I was the guy and you were... the girl..."

It was my turn now to pause and think for a bit. This was getting heavy, quick. But something was stirring in me that made me feel a bit, some might say, excited. I had to admit to myself, when I used to wear those clothes in secret, I did often wonder what it would be like to be a girl.

We stared at each other in silence for a while. I could see she wanted to say something, but wasn't sure how to approach the subject, so I silently motioned for her to speak.

"So, after all these revelations between us..." she started.

"Yeah?"

"How about you bring your lingerie back to my place and try them on for me?"

In what seemed like a heartbeat, we were at her place. I stood in the lounge room wearing a pink-lace thong with matching bra that I brought with me. Sarah had given me a black skirt and white blouse to wear over them, and she stuffed the bra's cups with tissues to give me the illusion of boobs.

"Bigger than mine!" she said, and we laughed, releasing some of the tension. "I'll be right back." And with that left me standing there, looking like a hairy secretary, feeling very insecure about myself.

After about 10 minutes she returned, but she looked very different - she looked like a guy. She wore a button-up shirt and trousers. She had put some binding to hide away her boobs and filled in her eyebrows to give her a manlier look. Then there was this bulge in the pants that I couldn't quite figure out. She raced over to me.

"Hey, babe, name's Steve." She said, "Can I have this dance?" I gave Steve my hand and, just like in the nightclub, we began to dance. As time wore on, I realised I was slowly fitting in to my role as the girl. I moved in closer, so my ass was right up close to 'his' groin area, and that's when I felt it. Grinding together, with his hands on my waist, I felt the strap-on. I hesitated, but Steve held me tighter and kept me there.

"That's for later." He whispered in my ear. I shuddered, I realise now, from anticipation.

We danced for about an hour. With each minute that passed by, we became our other selves more and more. The girl in me, which we came to call Paula, was taking over, and Steve was becoming more confident. We moved over towards the couch and I pushed Steve to have a seat. I had seen this move plenty of times and decided to give it a try. My hips started swaying, and I slowly, sexily, began to take off my clothes. Steve's eyes lit up with excitement as I threw the blouse to the side. Then, slowly I took off the skirt and threw it away. Left now wearing just the pink-lace bra and thong, I sat on Steve's lap and continued to grind my ass around his 'cock'. He let out a moan, then pulled me in for a kiss. I could feel him start to take over. This new manly alter ego taking control of the situation. He flipped me onto my back on the couch and kissed me again. He then kissed my neck, my shoulder, my chest and my stomach. Each time making me more and more aroused.

He kissed my cock through the panties and I let out a high-pitched moan. Steve took this as a sign and kissed me there again. I let out another, similar moan. By now my cock was straining hard through the panties. He grabbed my hand and placed it on his crotch. I could feel the strap-on through her pants and began to rub it. Not content with this, I proceeded to pull down his pants and his 8-inch cock popped out in all it's veiny, plastic glory. I wasted no time. I knew what my job was. I leaned in and kissed the tip. Steve shuddered a little. I slowly began to work my way down the shaft, lubricating 'his' cock with my saliva. He grabbed my head and slowly inched the strap on all the way into my mouth. To my astonishment, I was able to take the whole lot without gagging. Steve then, started to thrust the strap-on in and out of my mouth, faster and faster, but then stopped suddenly.

Without a word, he pushed me down and flipped me over on to my stomach. I knew what was coming next, so I raised my ass into the air. Steve pulled the panties down until they rested around my ankles. My cock, now free, was hard and leaking pre-cum. Then, Steve poked the head of the strap-on at the entrance to my ass, like a knocking at the door. I made my intentions clear by pushing back on the cock until the head squeezed into me. It was a little tight and strange at first, but he then pushed his cock all the way into me until I felt the balls against my ass. I felt instant pleasure and let out the loudest, girliest, moan of the night. Slowly at first, but then faster and faster, Steve fucked my ass with his 'cock'. Our moans began to synchronise as both got closer and closer to climax. Faster and faster still until, all at once, we both orgasmed - me shooting my load all over myself and the couch, and Steve squirting through the strap-on. He pulled out of my ass, with an audible pop, and we kissed. Exhausted we lay there, me the little spoon to Steve's big spoon. He finally spoke up after 10 minutes.

"That was the best sex, ever!"

"I never knew how good it could feel to be the one getting fucked." I replied.

"Well," Sarah said, "Maybe when we move to the new city, we could make one another change. We'll still move in as boyfriend and girlfriend, only you would be my girlfriend and I would be your boyfriend."

I thought about this until we fell asleep.

***

I mulled over her proposal for a few days. Each day we had sex as Steve and Paula. After that first night I decided to shave off my beard. Next, I got rid of all the hair below my head. Each time feeling more girly and enjoying the sex more. Sarah gave me tips on how to be more girly. I did end up accepting the proposal. We had to go shopping for our new wardrobes, so we swapped clothes and upon arrival in our new home, went out. And that's where you probably saw us. A normal couple walking down the street, smiling and laughing, hand in hand. We were on our way to pick up some clothes. For Steve, we picked up plenty of trousers and t-shirts, shorts and jeans. He continued to cut her hair short, though now it was more of a men's cut than a pixie cut. I was able to pick up plenty more bras and panties, swimsuits, dresses, skirts and blouses. We also got some breast forms to stop wasting so many tissues. With each passing day, my actions and my voice became more girly, and Steve became manlier in her voice and mannerisms.

Six months after we moved in, we went out to dinner. Steve surprised me by getting down on one knee. The ring was gorgeous, and of course I accepted. The restaurant applauded. That night, Steve decided to spoil me even more. This time, he pulled my 'strap-on' out of my panties and gave me the blowjob. It was so strange, yet arousing, to see a guy, lips around my cock, taking it all in. Happy with his prep work, Steve pushed me onto my back and climbed onto me. He placed my cock between his ass-cheeks and slowly sat down, taking more and more of me in. He bounced up and down on my cock, his cock slapping me on the stomach with each bounce. I felt so dominant, fucking this guy in front of me. My confidence growing, I pushed Steve onto his stomach and slowly began fucking his ass harder and harder. We moaned again, in unison, until I climaxed and released my seed into him. After I pulled out, I played the big spoon.

"You know what?" I said after a while.

"What?" he asked.

"This was really fun, but I think I prefer it when I'm the one getting fucked."

"Yeah," he agreed, "Me too."