Motel Meet

To say that I used to be a frustrated crossdresser would have been a considerable understatement. My wife thoroughly disapproved; she had just retired, so I had little private time to indulge myself. I don't want to be a girl; I don't want to dominate or to be subservient. I just get excited by wearing ladies' lingerie, looking at lingerie on men or women and the idea of playing around with someone else in lingerie. What fun I had was from the few short occasions when my wife went out alone. Once I was sure she was on her way, it was into my panties, slips and stockings and a precious hour of solo play.

I considered finding an excuse to spend a night away in a hotel, but I had been very ill last year, and my wife insisted on accompanying me on overnight trips now. Which is very good of her but hardly what I was looking for. If only I could rent a room by the hour.

Eventually, the penny dropped. Even though you pay by the night, you do not have to stay all night at a hotel. We live close to a major trunk road. There are many cheap hotels within a few miles. I could use online booking services to find cheap nights, stay from check-in to late evening, and check out early. I could give the hotel an excuse about a change of plans. Meanwhile, I could tell my wife I was attending a classical concert. She doesn't like classical music.

So, not so long after, I arrived at a hotel about 8 miles from home. I had told my wife I was going to a concert 50 miles away. I checked in and went to my room. I had loaded my bag into the car when my wife was occupied elsewhere. It was my old sports bag with a "wet" compartment for damp clothes. I had a feeling that might be useful.

I took a shower first, clipped on my white suspender belt, rolled my sheer black stockings onto my legs, and fastened the garter straps. I wished I had seamed stockings, seeing as I had the time to fit them properly. It was a luxury to take my time over it and not worry about finishing my games before the wife returned. Then my gold French knickers and matching satin slip.

I took my time to parade around the room and feel the smooth, silky material moving against my skin, especially the end of my penis. I sat down before I lost control and shot my load. I spent a glorious hour luxuriating in the sensation of my satin lingerie caressing my skin as I almost brought myself to climax five or six times before I could contain my excitement no longer and filled my knickers with man juice. The feel of my spunk-soaked panties was so erotic that I regained my erection within moments, and there I was, wanking again in my juicy knickers. It wasn't long until I added to the mess in my groin and sat back, exhausted. Once I regained my breath, I stripped off my slip and knickers and rinsed them in the bath before hanging them to dry a little before packing them for home.

Now it was time for dinner. I put on my blue camisole and French knickers and then my trousers and a shirt over them. I went to the restaurant and ordered a beer at the bar while I looked at the menu. The bar was quiet, with only a few people present. I was somewhat distracted by the feel of my lingerie and rather excited to be wearing it in public, all be it concealed from sight, or so I thought. Another guy came in and took a stool next to mine. He, too, ordered a beer. We exchanged an understated British greeting by nodding at each other. As he looked towards me, I suddenly remembered! I had no socks over my stockings! Perhaps he wouldn't notice. I quickly moved away to a table and ordered my dinner.

As I tucked into my gammon, my new friend came and sat at a table near to me. He seemed to be watching me as he ate. Had he spotted my stockings? Did he think I was a sissy? What might he do? When I finished my meal, I returned to the bar for one more drink before going back to my room for a few hours of self-abuse in lingerie before heading home. There was no point going straight back to my room; my new acquaintance had either spotted my kink by now or not.

My "friend" came to the bar and ordered a Scotch. When the barman was serving someone at the far end of the bar, he suddenly said, "I think we have a similar hobby, you and I." I was flustered and didn't know how to react. He continued, "You are wearing stockings. I can see the nylon above your shoes and the suspender bumps through your trousers. You are also wearing a blue camisole or slip. It's peaking out between your shirt buttons." He opened two shirt buttons to reveal a layer of ivory-coloured silk. "See, I'm into dressing too. Would you like to have some mutual fun?"

I quickly explained that I was new to this and hadn't planned on getting together with anyone.

He indicated a table away from the bar, and as we walked over, he continued, "My name's Brian, by the way. Although I sometimes go by Brenda. All I am proposing is that we go to your room and show each other our frillies. Nothing more. That is unless you want more. I would happily oblige, but I will not push you into anything. We could start with a no touching rule and, if you want to, we could relax that. What do you say?"

My mind was racing; this was unexpected. I had often fantasised about mutual masturbation with another crossdresser but never thought it would happen. But now I had the chance. What was the worst that could happen? I had given no personal details, and I was as sure as possible that there was no physical danger.

"Okay, I'm in. We take it slow, and NO will mean no."

"That's just fine. We'll meet in your room in fifteen minutes."

Back to my room and man clothes off. My stockings were stained from my earlier games, so I took them and my suspenders off. I replaced them with black hold-ups. Then I pulled on my black nylon slip. So, to recap, I was now wearing matching blue French knickers and camisole with white lace trim, black hold-up stockings and a black nylon slip. I was very apprehensive but also very excited. I wondered if I should have a quick wank, to relieve the pressure. But then, I might not get things up again quickly enough.

There was a knock on the door. Taking a chance that it was Brian, I answered it without coving up my lingerie. It was Brian. He was wearing a heavy dressing gown, but I could see tan-coloured hosiery and very girlie pink fluffy slippers. He also wore a little make-up, with blue eyeshadow and a little lipstick. He had quite long hair, and he looked very feminine. He could have made a very convincing female. He opened his dressing gown, and I saw that under his ivory slip was a very full red lace bra. He had gained breasts in the last quarter-hour!

As he stepped into my room, Brian said, "Do you like my tits?"

"Yes," I stammered. They did look very realistic and put a tantalising strain on his bra. I sat down on the bed, and Brian took the chair. He sat back and opened his legs so that I could see his red satin panties and red suspender belt. I found this very arousing, and my cock was standing to attention. Brian stood up and dropped his dressing gown. He stepped forward and reached behind to pull his ivory slip taught across the front of his body. His well-filled bra was outlined, as were his suspenders, and the red of his panties could be seen through the ivory slip. He stood right before me and let the slip fall loose around him. He hitched it up to his waist and thrust his hips forward so that his bulging red satin panties were right in my face. His cock was bulging forward, and I could see the outline of his foreskin just in front of my eyes. Then he turned and presented his backside to me. The satin was tight across his firm bottom. I almost forgot the "no touching" rule.

Brian returned to the chair and told me it was my turn to give a display. I stood up and repeated Brian's performance in my black slip, blue knickers and stockings. Brian looked just as excited as I was. He also broke the rule. Just a little because he reached out with one hand to feel the lace on my slip. I had no objection. When I finished my turn and sat down again, Brian returned to stand in front of me with his slip raised again. Once again, his bulging panties were right before my eyes.

Sod the rules! I took hold of his satin-covered cock with my right hand and cupped his balls with my left. He pulled me to my feet and ground our slip-covered bodies together. It was Heaven.

Brian dropped to his knees, lifted my slip and began to suck my cock through my French knickers. It was delightful, but it didn't last long. I came like a fire hose within two minutes. Brian got back to his feet, and I went down on my knees. I pushed him around so I could kiss his beautifully pantied arse for a few moments before spinning him back to perform fellatio for the first time ever. It was so thrilling to see how much pleasure I was giving him; that seriously turned me on. He lasted a little longer than I did, but he had done this before. I kept his cock in his panties until he shot his load of man juice. Most was held in his panties, but some came through onto my face. We both fell across the bed and lay there for about five minutes while we got our breath back.

Time was getting on, and I had to be thinking about getting home. We cleaned ourselves up in my bathroom, and I quickly packed. Brian was anxious to know how I had found the experience. I told him that it had been fantastic and I would like to try it again and even go somewhat further if he wanted. Brian explained that it might be two or three months before he returned this way, but he would love to do it again.

I gave him an e-mail address I only ever used for anonymous internet postings and bid him farewell until the next time. I checked out and went to my car. As I drove home, I listened to Sibelius' Symphony Number Five; after all, the concert I was supposed to have been at in Birmingham featured that piece.