I’m not a girl.
My name is Eric Redman and I’m 100% a guy through and through, which is why you might be surprised to learn that no one knows that.
Have you ever seen those super androgynous people where you just can’t peg down what their true gender is? That’s me, and it’s been me my whole life. I’ve been mistaken for a girl so many times I can’t even keep count. Teachers, classmates, coworkers… one time a doctor even called me ‘she’ when I was getting some antibiotics even though my paperwork clearly said ‘male’.
My parents were horrified at my gender ambiguousness, so much so that they tried everything to ‘right’ it, including buzzed hair, baggy clothing and all the contact sports they could fit me in. They even had my hormone levels checked out, which all turned out to be in order.
When puberty finally came around handing out deep voices and muscles, it seemed to just pass me by. I grew for sure, but not much. I looked just as ambiguous as before. One thing it did gift me though was an insatiable sexual appetite that just wouldn’t leave me alone. There was hardly a day that passed by without at least one jerk-off session being performed. And the real kicker? I usually did it wearing my mom’s clothes.
You see, I had developed a real interest in cross-dressing during my teenage years, partly because I could pull it off so well, but also because it turned me on so much. I thought I was Trans for a time, but no. This was definitely not a wrong body thing as I liked being a guy. I just… liked being a guy who pretended to be a girl more.
My parents never knew. Seriously. They legitimately never found out that I would sneak into my mom’s drawers, put on her pantyhose and heels and masturbate like a madman.
At 19 I moved out and never looked back. Now when I say that, I really do mean I never looked back; I’m 21 now and haven’t spoken to my parents in over two years. Or my friends, or anyone else I ever knew.
I started a whole new life in which everything about me was a lie. And you know what? I fucking love it.
I let out a breath as I watched my reflection. 5’6″, skinny as a matchstick, and proportioned like a girl, with long legs and a short torso. But on the flip side, I was flat-chested, bald, and had a dick between my legs. Androgyny at its best.
“… another gorgeous day with a high of 24 and no clouds,” said the pretty weather reporter on my TV.
I lived in one of those small bachelor suite apartments where it’s all one big room except for the bathroom. It was okay however as I wasn’t home much anyway. I really just needed a place to store my stuff while I was away.
It was cozy enough though, with pinks and whites being the dominant theme and a nice view of the city sprawled out below me. I had a fluffy bed with a small vanity table beside it and on the other side of the room, I had a big tv with a large full-body mirror beside it that I had leaned against the wall.
It was that mirror I was currently watching myself in. I was taking a good look before getting ready as it’d be the last time I’d see my true self for some time.
“Okay,” I said in a higher pitched but still recognizably male voice, “let’s go.”
I spun around on the fuzzy white rug I had in front of the mirror and padded over to the foot of my bed where a black polymer case sat. It was big and looked almost militaristic in design, though its contents were furthest from, and had two clasps keeping the lid closed. I snapped those open and lifted the lid to reveal my very expensive, debt-inducing prosthetic forms.
Seriously, if I thought getting a fake ID and papers off of some seedy individuals was expensive, then I was sure shocked when I got the bill for these bad boys.
They were top of the line in fake flesh. Two each of breasts, hips and butt cheeks that were custom made for me and offered unparalleled realism in looks and touch.
And they came with glue!
This wasn’t some school glue though, it was seriously strong stuff that doubled as a seam hider. All you did was put some on the underside of the prosthetic, slap it on your body, wait for it to dry, then follow up with a thin layer around the edges. Viola! You had an ultra realistic body part that melded perfectly into your surrounding skin.
And that’s what I did, but with a bit more care than how I explained it. The last thing you wanted was to put your tits on crooked as the procedure to get them off involved soaking in a special solvent for a few hours.
It was a weird feeling having that extra weight suddenly on your body after a few days without, though of course it also felt weird removing that weight after you had gotten used to it as well. Especially the boobs though, as you became top heavy. Thank goodness for the hips and butt then, as those moved my center of gravity downwards, giving my back some relief from the pound and a half of weight on my chest.
After finishing with the seams on the last prosthetic, I went back to the mirror to check for faults.
My body was rockin’! I had D-cup breasts and a sexy hourglass shape that didn’t take away from my slim figure. My legs went for miles and eventually ran into my butt which was firm and bubbly, along with my thighs which were now shapely from the fake hips.
I looked closely to make sure nothing had lifted or glued down weirdly, but everything seemed to be in place. That glue would hold these suckers in place indefinitely or until they were properly removed.
I smiled mischievously as I jumped up and down, watching my tits bounce realistically. I gave them each a squeeze and pushed them together playfully as my cock immediately went hard. They felt absolutely real, along with the other forms; mimicking bone, muscle, fat and breast tissue perfectly. The only thing they didn’t do was provide me with any sensation. Sadly, I’d have to use my imagination for that.
“Fuck, yes!” I said to my reflection.
I was excited now. Don’t get me wrong, having a few days off and in boy mode were definitely needed now and then, but damn it was good to be back.
With my body now ready, it was time to get to work on my head. I sat down at my vanity and picked up a little tube of wig glue which I applied to my scalp. It would’ve been nice to keep my real hair, but unfortunately my genetics dictated that I should have a super high widows peak, one of my few masculine features, so I just lasered it all off along with the rest of my body and facial hair. It just made life so much easier. All I had left were my perfectly plucked eyebrows and eyelashes.
I took the long, blonde wig off of its stand on the vanity and was careful not to get any stray strands in the glue as I gently worked it on my head. Naturally I was a brunette, but if you’re going to laser all your hair off, you might as well go with a different color.
I applied more glue here and there, meticulously making sure it blended perfectly into my scalp to create a natural and realistic looking hairline. The wig of course was real human hair, so I didn’t have to worry about showering or styling. I’d be able to leave it on for weeks at a time without having to do any touch ups to it.
“There,” I whispered as I finished. I combed it out and tied it up into an intricate French braided ponytail and let it cascade down behind me in big, fluffy waves. Left undone, it would naturally fall to my lower back.
Happy with what I saw, I moved on to makeup; starting with moisturizer and foundation for a base, followed by contouring to create shape. Next, I filled in my already plucked and shaped dark brown brows and accented the feminine arch before moving on to my hazel eyes. The first thing I did was insert blue contact lenses so I would look the part of the blonde, before applying eyeliner along my water line and slightly fanning it out, followed by a heavy and dark smokey eye with glitter lightly dusted overtop, especially in the inner corner, and finished with thick mascara that made my already thick lashes even more full. A little blush on my cheeks to give me some color and my lips, already plump from being botoxed, I filled in with a beautiful blood red matte lipstick. To finish everything off I added highlights everywhere: around my lips, under my eyebrows, on my nose, on my cheeks, etc.
I smacked my pillowy lips together and inspected my work in the vanity mirror. God, I was hot, like a 10/10, blue eyed, blonde haired bombshell that just walked out of the steamiest wet dream ever kinda hot.
And I was hard. Really hard.
I looked up at the ceiling and slowly blew out a long breath to try and calm myself down before refocusing to do my nails.
This was a newer skill I had only recently acquired. After spending loads of money on acrylic nails and fills, I finally decided enough was enough and invested the time and money into learning how to do my own. And honestly, it’s paid off.
After filing and prepping my fingers and toes, I began the long process of lengthening and shaping my nails with acrylic until I achieved a French tipped mid length almond design. My toes I didn’t lengthen however, as it’d interfere with my shoes.
I clicked them against the vanity top playfully after they had hardened and smiled a big, beautiful smile at myself in the mirror. My teeth, like most of me, were also fake but damn did they look good. I literally had them pulled and replaced with artificial ones after I moved out as my natural ones just weren’t working with the look I had in mind.
So at this point, with the fake ID, prosthetics, teeth, laser hair removal, and everything else required to start my new life as a girl, I was very heavily in debt. What was I to do to pay this all off? Well, that’s where my job comes in.
A year ago I was hired at Sparrow Airways to be their newest flight attendant. This wasn’t just any old airline though, no, this was top of the line luxury travel that provided such amenities as private rooms, an onboard casino, bar, and restraunt, and sexual services from the staff. Yes, that’s right, I’m essentially a flying prostitute.
It wasn’t the wild west when it came to sex though, this was a luxury airline after all. No penetration was allowed, and we could refuse service to anyone we didn’t feel comfortable with. Best of all though, it paid big, like 200 grand a year big; more than enough to slowly pay off my debts and have extra on the side.
I finished off at the vanity by opening my jewelry box and putting in a pair of small diamond hoop earrings with matching bracelet and necklace, which gave me an air of elegance without being too much.
I stood up then and went to my closet, clearing my throat and focusing myself.
I said a test line, “Hello, welcome to Sparrow Airlines.” No, that’s not it. I tried again, “How can I service you today, sir?” Yes! There it was. My voice had shifted from guy to sultry girl, which let me tell you was no easy task to master. Many days of a sore throat and even more hours had it taken me to perfect my feminine speaking voice to a level I felt comfortable with. Since I used it so much these days though, it came very naturally to me. It was all thanks to those gamers who posted videos on trolling people over voice chat.
“Hello, my name is Olivia and I work at Sparrow Airways. Yes, it’s so nice to meet you. Does that feel better?” I continued speaking to lock myself into the new registry as I pulled open my closet doors.
Inside were neatly organized and hung up articles of clothing, from skirts and dresses to blouses and tops with heels lining the bottom and a small dresser in the corner. Not a pair of pants was in site, and not one of my shoes had a heel under 4 inches.
I pulled open the top drawer of the dresser to reveal a pile of panties on one side and bras on the other. I picked out a matching silky white set and put them on. The panties were a Brazilian style that I shimmied up my legs after tucking my cock between my thighs, and the bra I clasped behind my back before snuggling my breasts into the cups. I felt immediate relief on my back.
Next, I opened the bottom drawer and plucked out a fresh package of 15 denier nude pantyhose. This was honestly my favorite part. I had such a fetish for nylon ever since I had first put my moms on when I was a kid.
I took a seat at the vanity and carefully removed them from their packaging, conscious not to snag them with my nails. My cock literally throbbed as I rolled them up my smooth legs, trying everything in its power to escape its imprisonment between my thighs.
I adjusted them until they sat comfortably at my waist before I repositioned my cock back into place.
With that, I was secure from any accidental slips. My penis, which both loved and hated its new nylon cage, continued to throb.
I went back to the closet, the touch of my pantyhose gliding over itself on my inner thighs sending shivers up my spine, and pulled my uniform out.
It was a white, short sleeved blouse that tucked into a blue pencil skirt which in turn fell to just under my mid thigh. I buttoned up a matching blue vest followed by a white and blue Ascot before pinning my flight cap into my hair; my fluffy pony sticking out the back.
I then picked out my work shoes; a pair of patent black, 4.5 inch closed toe stiletto heels that I eagerly slipped my nyloned feet into. Most women complain about wearing heels all day, but for me it’s insanely sexually stimulating.
To finish off the outfit, I pulled on my blue flight jacket and white gloves, both of which were only required outside of the plane.
And with that I was done. I had completely transformed myself into something I am not, and boy did it turn me on.
I admired myself in the mirror for a bit, trying to think of a girl, any girl, I had ever seen that looked better, but it was hard. My cock tented my panties and pantyhose downwards under my skirt, I could feel it, but I refused to do anything to relieve my sexual tension.
Believe it or not, I actually really liked women over men, which weren’t my preference and did little for me sexually. But the idea of tricking men into cumming for me was, so I found a solution.
I didn’t cum.
Or at least I rarely did. If I kept my balls full at all times I’d be much more willing to pleasure men, and even came to enjoy it. But if I came, the thought of a man would become much less appealing to me, and since my job literally depended on pleasing men, it was a sacrifice I was willing to make.
I was more than okay with it though as I quickly learned that I loved denying myself. And there was absolutely nothing like a man’s cock down your throat, him thinking you’re a full blooded woman, all the while your own cock is tenting against your pantyhose out of sight. I was very prone to precumming a lot, let’s just say.
With a final glance in the mirror, I readjusted my tits and struck a sexy pose as I purred, “Cum for me, darling,” in the most honey filled, sultry voice imaginable.
I knew it sounded really good because I pre came a little into my panties a second later.
I walked confidently through the lounge area, my stilettos thudding against the carpeted floor as men and women watched me intently. It gave me such a rush to see the faces of the wives and escorts look on in very obvious annoyance and jealousy as their husbands and dates feasted on me with their eyes.
Continuing along without skipping a beat, I made my way into galley 3 where I found Jessica prepping some drinks.
“Hey hun,” I purred.
Jessica turned around and gave me a grin, “Olivia! I can’t believe it’s taken you this long to come see me!”
“Sorry Jess,” I said sheepishly, “they’ve had me busy upstairs ever since I boarded. I stepped away as soon as I could.”
She gave me a big hug, our tits smooshing together as she said, “I missed you. Jerking off guys just isn’t the same without you.”
I laughed at that as she pulled away grinning. God, she was beautiful. Dark brunette hair, angular face, and a body you just wanted to run your hands all over. She was a flight attendant like me, a year older, and my best friend. I wished it was more than that though, truthfully.
“How was your time off?” She asked as she went back to her drinks.
“Oh, you know; parties, boys, drinks.”
She scoffed at me and shook her head, “Ya, okay. So what did you really do?”
I smiled as I looked into her light hazel eyes, “Ya, you got me. I sat around at home, ordered a pizza and watched movies. It was pretty epic.”
“There it is!” she chuckled, “the truth always comes out!”
I hoped not.
“And you? How’s work been?” I asked.
“Fuck me Olivia, it’s been busy!” she said quietly, making sure none of the passengers could hear. “Last night alone I did nine service calls, and that’s on top of all the food and drink, and pillows, and all the other bullshit people needed.”
Nine was a lot. The average was two or three, and I think the most I had ever done was eight.
A soft ding rang in the galley as ‘Cabin 4’ displayed on the overheard screen.
Jessica looked at me knowingly.” Speak of the devil,” she chuckled.
“Why don’t you let me take this one? Go finish your drinks.”
She gave me a puppy dog face, “Are you sure, babe? You don’t have to, it’s not even your floor.”
I assured her it was all right and silenced all protests before gathering up a service tray and making my way to cabin 4. The service tray contained all the materials a service call might require such as lube, warmed towels, and sanitizer, to name a few.
I organized myself in front of the closed door and read the name ‘Weatherly’ before knocking and softly calling out, “Flight attendant.”
“Come in,” came a feminine voice from the other side. Weird, but not unusual. Sometimes the client would have his wife or girlfriend in the room, or more rarely, sometimes it was a female who needed servicing, though I’d only ever had two of those.
I let myself in, a big smile on my face, and was greeted by a middle aged couple relaxing in their seats. Each of the cabins was quite spacious, with adjustable leather seats that could double as a bed, and a small, pull out table.
“Hello,” I said cheerfully, “my name is Olivia. I understand we need some service today?”
The woman smiled and motioned to her husband. “Arthur here’s been acting up ever since we took off and it’s getting rather bothersome. Would you mind pleasuring him for me so I can have a little peace and quiet?”
Arthur grunted something about a dusty old hag before giving me a good look. His eyebrows raised a little and he seemed to suddenly perk up.
“Olivia, did you say? Well, well… Yes, I think you’ll do rather nicely,” he said approvingly.
“Thank you Mr. Weatherly,” I said brightly as I put my tray down on the pull out table, “I’d be very happy to bring you to climax today!”
“You see, Lisbeth? This is how a real woman behaves,” he said to his wife with a chuckle. She just rolled her eyes and pulled out a magazine like she was waiting for the next bus.
I removed my white gloves delicately, one finger at a time for Arthur to see. It was all a show of course, and not one thing was considered too mundane to not spice up for our passengers. I laid them on the service tray and reached up to the overhead storage to pull out a pillow. I made sure to stretch tall, showing off my figure for him as I did.
Arthur adjusted himself in his seat. He was obviously enjoying the show already.
I placed the pillow between his legs and knelt down on it, keeping my back straight and heels on. I looked up at him from under thick eyelashes and asked, “Do I have your permission to continue, Mr. Weatherly?”
He looked down at me with wide eyes, breathing heavily, and said, “God, yes!”
He wasn’t attractive, and I didn’t particularly feel like doing this, but he would never know from the looks I gave him. In his mind, he was the number one person in my world at the moment.
I ran my hands slowly down the tops of his thighs, showing off my glossy nails as I did and gave him a soft moan. He was already hard, I could see it tenting his trousers, so I skipped the rest of the foreplay and went straight to unzipping his pants.
He couldn’t keep his eyes off me as I helped him get his pants and underwear off, revealing an average looking cock with longer pubes. I gasped of course, nothing too dramatic, just enough to stroke his ego before I grabbed the lube off the service tray and squirted some into my hands. I bit my lower lip seductively as I warmed it up in my hands first.
I moaned again as I reached out, wrapping my lubed fingers around his cock and began stroking. He groaned as my hand traveled up his shaft slowly before I lightly squeezed just under his tip, causing him to gasp.
“Oh, Arty! She’s good,” mused Lisbeth as she glanced over.
I brought my face closer and blew lightly as I started to glide up and down his cock rhythmically.
“Do you want me to put it in my mouth?” I asked temptingly.
“Oh Christ, yes!” he groaned, gripping his armrests tightly.
I kissed his tip ever so lightly before I slipped my pillowy red lips over him and slowly descended down his shaft.
His leg started to shake beside me and he was breathing heavily now. This was getting hot for me too. I could feel myself getting hard under my skirt; my cock straining downwards against the lace and nylon that encased it.
“Ohh ohhhh ohhhhhh!” Arthur moaned loudly as I began sucking him off in earnest. My tongue cradled his engorged shaft as I let him buck into my throat. He was desperate now, eager to breed my tonsils as quickly as he could. I placed my hands under his thighs and squeezed lightly to indicate for him to let me control the tempo.
It was too late though, as with one final thrust of his hips he released into my mouth. It was bitter and salty but I kept it in my mouth, gathering every last drop until he collapsed into his chair. I opened my mouth for him as he looked down at me panting and showed him his pleasure on my tongue.
“Holy shit,” he mumbled, his voice wobbly. I swallowed his load then and giggled.
Cum does not taste good, and anyone who tells you differently is lying. It’s the idea of it that’s attractive.
But God damn the thought of it was attractive. My cock throbbed as I licked some stray droplets off my lips.
“Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Weatherly?” I asked.
“No… no, not at the moment,” he said, closing his eyes, “Christ…”
Lisbeth looked over at me and raised her eyebrows. “Young lady, I have never seen him react so positively to that sort of thing before. You are truly talented, both in beauty and skill.”
I got back on my feet and began cleaning up. “Thank you Mrs. Weatherly, you’re too kind.”
Her eyes traveled down my body and stopped at my legs, “Oh! You must tell me what hosiery you wear, dear, your legs are absolutely glowing!” She ran her fingers gently down my calf.
“Wolfords!” I said cheerfully as I finished cleaning Arthur’s softening cock.
“Yes, I’ve heard very good things. Control top?”
“Oh yes,” I said, “in this profession you need all the support you can get.”
Lisbeth chuckled at that and nodded her head, “Yes, I bet you would.”
By support she didn’t know I really meant keeping my dick tucked.
She rummaged around in her purse for a moment before pulling out $300 in cash. “For you, dear. I’m sure we’ll call upon your services again.”
I thanked her and left with my service tray as Arthur started to snore. Well, mission accomplished for Lisbeth I guess.
Out in the hall I wiggled my hips to help my softening cock slide back into place before continuing back to the galley, the taste of cum still staining my tongue.
“Thanks again,” said Jessica as I came back in. She was sitting on a pull down chair with her feet up on the counter. Her heels were discarded on the ground.
“It was no problem, Jess,” I said cheerfully, “Honestly it was a cuter older couple and the husband came really fast so no trouble at all.”
“Mm, good,” she said as she closed her eyes and tilted her head back.
I sat across from her after cleaning off the used service tray and motioned for her to bring her feet over.
“Come here hun, let me give you a massage.”
It looked like she was about to refuse, but decided better of it and swung her legs over, putting her nyloned feet squarely in my lap.
“Thanks Olivia, you’re the best.”
I began kneading my thumbs into the sole of her foot, careful not to snag her pantyhose with my nails.
“You deserve it Jessica, you’ve been working hard!” I said as I really got my fingers in there.
“Oh fuck yes!” she groaned, “those heels are killing me… ”
Now THIS was turning me on fast. I was currently massaging the silky nyloned feet of the woman I liked AND got to hear her moan. Christ, my cock was at full mast right now.
That’s when I heard another pair of heels approaching.
“Olivia! What are you doing down here? You’re assigned to the upper level!”
It was Margret. Every workplace has a Margret, no matter if it’s flipping burgers in a dump or serving wealthy passengers in an airplane.
“Sorry Margret, I was just helping Jessica out for a minute.”
“It’s my fault, Margret,” Jessica butted in as she swung her legs out of my lap, “I asked her to help me.”
Margaret shook her head, “You have Patricia and Annabelle on your team today, and that should be adequate. Olivia, back to your station. Elizabeth and Victoria are probably missing you.”
They weren’t. We didn’t have a lot going on at the moment up there and both Elizabeth and Victoria gave me leave to check in on Jessica. They knew how close we were.
“On my way,” I said as I got up and started out of the room. Jessica was already getting her heels back on and Margret stood there to make sure we did in fact go our separate ways.
She wasn’t that bad honestly. Margret ran a tight ship and took her job as supervisor very seriously, just maybe a little too seriously sometimes.
I walked back through the lounge area on my way to the stairs, my stiff cock remaining rock solid as I drank in the jealous looks of all the women once more.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/whtg3i/crossdressing_flight_attendant_m21m55_m21f22