It had been something I'd thought about for years, and as each year went on, I desired it more and more. So I've gone out dressed as a woman, I can do my own make up. The final question of what it's like to be a woman, other than pregnancy, periods, menopause and scouring markets for earrings and jewellery (urgh), was to go on a date with a man. Not another crossdresser or tranny, but a Man with a capital 'M.' After lord knows how many false starts, fake profiles, genuine profiles that got cold feet. I finally met someone via the TVchix website, who turned out to be an actual real man. And I went on a date with him! Amazing!

 

I met, we'll call him Spike, as it is related to something about him, not that! I had hired a lavish hotel in south London, called Le Trannylodge. There I got ready, and headed on the train over to Wimbledon. Spike had arranged to meet in a rooftop bar near the station. I wasn't too nervous getting there on the train, but suddenly the nerves started going a bit as I walked through the door. What if he was boring, ugly, poor body odour? What if he didn't like me in the flesh? OK, the last one would be impossible! 

 

The place was roundish, and the central bar was round in the middle. The tables on the outer rim of the bar, the staff pouring drinks in the middle. Most surfaces were white. I walked round in my flats, and there he was, like Johnny Cash, the man in black. He was wearing black trousers, black jacket and black baseball cap. I think it said ZZ Top or something on the baseball cap. I'm writing this around 3 months after the date. He was as he had showed in his picture, and very lovely. The butterflies were circling my inner self, I had finally met a lovely Man. He was here, as a date. This was all very lovely and magical. 

 

We sat at the bar, and he asked me for a drink. I had recently got into margaritas, so ordered one of those. I think he stuck to beer. The chat started off a little stilted, but picked up as the evening went on. After an hour or so, we gravitated down to a table. There he became a little more assertive, and stroked my stocking thighs a bit. I placed my hand on his thigh. All things I'd dreamed about were happening. Another drink and it was starting to get late. We upped and left, and Spike ordered an Uber. It took a while to arrive and we stood a little nervous on Wimbledon broadway, waiting for the car. It turned up after 10mins or so. We set off back to the luxury and glamour of Le Travelodge. This had been the plan all along, so it wasn't as if I'd just pulled. I think I'm a long way off that, although came close with a nice chap in a suit at 'Way Out' once.

 

Back at the hotel, I grabbed a few things and went off into the bathroom. I had fantasized about being taken in a white outfit from my favourite video. Spike would help me realise that dream. I was dressed in white platform heels, white stockings, white suspender belt, very short white skirt and white bra. Spike asked for me to parade for him a bit, then he stood up and we kissed. It was the first time I'd kissed a man, I was very much Ophelia, so it just felt natural. He then sat down and produced his penis. After playing with it he invited me to kneel and take it. He'd said in previous chats that it was 7", yet I found I was able to take it fully in my mouth and touch my nose against his body. I proceeded to pleasure him for a bit before he wanted to move. I have to be honest, I've still to work out the wonder of fellatio. It just felt like sucking a large finger with a taste of skin very much on the tongue. I see TVs in chats lording the joy of fellatio, but I just didn't think it was all that. It was mainly just pleasing a guy for me. Maybe that's the big thing. 

 

It got to the time for the main event, and he asked how I wanted it. I explained like the video, from behind. After some jostling and putting on a condom, he went  off to wash his hands. Then came back, and applied lube, then again washed his hands. Feeling a bit silly, he finally returned and got to work. It was a gorgeous feeling, being connected in this way to a Man. Letting him use me for his pleasure, not that I wasn't getting any in return. I'd always wondered and been intrigued about the ball sack acting as a cushion whenever I'd watched porn, and was enjoying feeling Spike's cushion up against me. After a while of pounding, Spike left again for the bathroom to wash his hands. Although slightly annoying, I did genuinely appreciate his cleanliness. 

 

He returned and was seeking more oral action, and I worked on his penis and balls. I heard him grunting a bit more and before I knew it, he was clearly coming in my mouth. I'd never tasted semen before and expected it to be salty, as most seem to describe. However there was no real flavour, just a sort of tasteless yogurt like substance that I swallowed down. 

 

All over, he was keen to leave as it was getting late. He talked while he got dressed, we kissed, and he left. I removed my makeup, and pulled on a nightie before crashing into bed. Thinking about what had just happened, and going to sleep with a smile! I never heard from Spike again, I hope I wasn't a disappointment, and that he merely wanted to help other T girls achieve their dreams and fantasies. Like a sort of kinky superman or something, listening to his ZZ top as he goes. 

When I started off these adventures, I had no desire to sleep with a Man. I wanted to be classy and have dignified meetings. Yet after this experience, I was left wanting more action and an admission that yes, I did like a decent size cock. Sod it, life's too short. Although not short enough I'd ever want to go to Sweet Wednesdays basement or whatever depravity goes on at Legs and other Saunas.

 

**Apologies for lack of photos to break up the text. Everything happened so quickly and I was enjoying myself so forgot. Maybe next time...