The First Lesson in Masculinity [M/FtM] [con, public, gym, cunnilingus]

Note: In this story, FtM refers to gender transition, not gender transformation.

My arms were already starting to ache when I took the plates off of the bar. I’d finished up just in time. In half an hour, men all over downtown would come here for their after-work workouts.

Maybe one day I’d join them, but for now, I was happy to exercise on my own. I was still getting used to going into the male locker room. Having other guys there would be weird.

Turning on the shower, I let myself relax. The hot water soothed my muscles. I stared at the tiles so I didn’t have to look at my own body. Testosterone was slimming my hips and my chest, but there was still work to do.

The door creaked open. Fear shot through me. I ran to my clothes. Even though I wasn’t dry, I needed to dress. My packer refused to sit properly. I kept trying to shove it into place.

“Kid, chill.” A man laughed.

I looked up at him. He was tall. His body was muscular despite a soft middle-aged pudge. Stubble adorned his chiselled face. His dark brown hair was peppered with streaks of gray. He looked like my goals.

I stuttered, “S-sorry. I just realised I’m a little late and, uh, I should really be going…”

He took off his shirt. “We’re both men. Take your time.”

I did, putting on my pants at a normal pace. I could feel his eyes on me as I stepped into my binder. My chest flattened, and my nervousness grew.

“Oh… I get it,” The man muttered.

“What was that?”

“You’re one of those trans kids.”

“… Yes?”

He smiled. “I’ve always wondered if it went the other way. I knew a few trans girls back in the 80s. Actually, I dated one of them.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “Relax. I’m not going to make a fuss because your dick is smaller than mine.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

He looked at the bulge in my pants. “Actually, that’s quite big.”

“It’s not real. It’s my packer… it makes me look more masculine.” I blushed.

He listened patiently as I explained the different types of packers. I felt proud teaching him. After I’d finished talking, he looked me up and down. There was a playful glint in his eyes.

He bit his lip. “I think you’d look masculine enough without it.”

I tried to form a response, but all I could get out was a stuttering mess. He brushed his hair out of his face. If he looked attractive before, he looked downright Adonis-like now. His steely blue eyes seemed to pierce my soul.

“Kid, you need someone to teach you how to be a real man,” he said in a measured voice. “Real masculinity isn’t about what you look like. It’s about how you act. I can be that teacher for you.”

“Yes!” I responded way too eagerly.

He chuckled. “If you’re going to be a real man, I’m going to treat you like one, physically, emotionally, and sexually.”

“**Sexually?**”

“I’ve seen how you’ve been looking at me. Just take off your pants.”

My heart raced as I obeyed him. I couldn’t look him in the face. My packer made a thud as it hit the tile floor. I was exposed from the waist down. He could see everything. My inner thighs were already damp.

He grabbed my chin and forced me to face him. “You don’t have to be shy.”

He took off his own pants. His boxers stretched to contain a growing erection. He brushed his hand over it, showing it off. I covered my pelvis.

Without a word, he took me by the wrists and placed them on the bench. I had to bend forward to keep them there. My ass stuck out.

He ran a single finger down my backbone. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Nick. And don’t call me a kid. I’m twenty.”

He placed a confident hand on my leg. “Sure, Nick. I’m Michael, and as long as you’re learning, you’re a kid to me. Got it?”

“Yes, Michael.”

Michael spread my legs apart. His warm breath tickled my thighs. His stubble scratched them as he dove between them, licking my already damp parts.

My knuckles grew white. Michael knew his way around my feminine parts. Every move was incredible. I held back my moans, letting them build up as he turned me into a wet, shuddering mess. He grabbed my hips to keep them from moving too much. It didn’t work. I kept twisting and bucking, trying to keep his mouth where it felt the best.

He alternated between sucking on my sensitive dicklet and playing with my folds, always going for maximum impact. His strong tongue made me quiver. A masculine scent filled the room.

The metal of the bench dug into my palms, and my limbs started to ache. Michael’s grip tightened. His movements grew rougher. His decades of experience gave him all the tools he needed to make me ecstatic.

It was almost too much for me to bear. My core tensed. My cheeks flushed. My legs rubbed against his face. Gasping for breath, I orgasmed.

Michael stood. A glossy sheen covered his mouth. A confident grin spread across his face. There was a wet spot on his boxers – he had climaxed too.

He wiped his face on his towel. “The first lesson of being a man: treat pussy right.”

I was still dazed. “You do.”

“Go wash up,” he ordered. “I have plenty more to teach you. The other lessons won’t be as sexy, but if you’re a fast learner, I’ll reward you.”

I looked in the mirror. For the first time in a while, I felt good about my reflection. The other lessons could only make me more confident.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/jfu25e/the_first_lesson_in_masculinity_mftm_con_public