I am finally a woman

chapter 1

I am finally a woman. A beautiful, mature, plump woman.

With the decision to undergo my transition into a definitive female state, I initiated my female puberty over two years ago. The female hormones I've been taking have finally given me luscious curves, skin as smooth as silk and Junoesque breasts. In my female body, I'm especially proud of my protruding, oval-shaped belly. The jutting out of my navel, caused by the distension of my abdomen, reinforces the impression that I am pregnant. Pregnant with femininity and tenderness. I am also thankful for the genetics I have been blessed with, as my breasts have grown to a nice D cup with wide areolas and thick nipples, all unaided by surgery. Despite the wider bust, my breasts are nicely distanced and form a sexy cleavage.

When I see myself in the mirror, I cry of joy and happiness. All I can see is a woman. A stunningly attractive, feminine, big, beautiful woman.

In my puberty I've lived the most incredible dream. After only a month into it, I had already developed a curvy, feminine belly and perky, budding breasts. Proud of my new bosom, one summer afternoon I decided to go to the swimming pool, only wearing a G-string with my shameful bits tucked and taped between my legs and my breasts boldly displayed for the world to see. I felt so proud and elated at the thought of finally appearing to the world as a woman, a real woman! While lying on a bed revelling in the sweltering sun, a bald, wide-shouldered, bearded Arab stud appeared from behind the bushes and walked up to me. His eyes oozed masculinity and pointed at my breasts and belly. So piercing was his look that I could almost feel it caressing my skin, exalting my femininity, making me burst with lust!

Mustapha (I learned later that was his name) said hello, sat by my side and took my hand. His eyes were still firmly set on the temples of my femininity. Little did I know then, together with him, I would live the most feminine adventure a woman like me could conceive of! Next we were chatting casually. While his piercing look flattered my breasts and belly - his deep, brown, smouldering eyes demanded absolute respect and submission, fuelling my femininity- he told me how, for many years (he was 39) he had identified as gay. Lately, however, he had found an interest in BBW, especially transsexual ones. In fact, in his gay stint he had been attracted to very effeminate chubbies. He had even fallen in love with one of them, his name was Lenny. Lenny completely lacked any body hair, sported long, curly locks and had a big, oval belly and very developed man boobs. The fat around his thighs gave him decisively feminine curves. His overall demeanour had a distinct womanly flair. Mustapha had asked him if he would like to change sex and become his wife, but Lennie had refused. Although he identified as a woman on the inside, and liked to cross-dress and be Mustapha's sex slave, he was scared at the prospect of transitioning, and possibly going under the knife to further feminize his body. He much preferred to remain a delicate, tender chubby and act as a woman in bed, and sometimes even in public. After Lennie's refusal to submit to his request (one I was sure he had made with a voice and eyes that would not take no as an answer), Mustapha had left him and decided to turn towards plump, transsexual women who had already started their transition. He hadn't been so much in love with Lennie in the end, although he was very attracted to him. But he was very confident in his newfound sexuality at that point, and longed to express it with a woman he could fall in love with.

So there we were by the swimming pool, the two of us with our eyes locked onto each other. The sexual tension was palpable. Mustapha's hairy chest exuded virility, a smell of musk and testosterone. While he held my hand very delicately, a tingle all over my body made me feel lusted over by a real man. For the first time ever in my feminine life. But Mustapha's eyes showed more than just lust. His intent gaze had a tinge of sweetness to it, that gave me a sense of incipient romance and love. He had a deep and commanding voice, just like his looks were, but his manner of speaking sent soothing waves through the air. It was pleasant to listen to his stories. The more he spoke, the more I felt drawn to him. I was in a state of pure bliss. Not only was I a woman, an incredible man was seducing me slowly and gently. I was experiencing just everything every woman could possibly desire.

Given the time of day, it was getting hot. So we decided to take a dip in the pool. While Mustapha took a dive, I opted for a more ladylike way of getting in the water, using the steps. I started swimming slowly in the shallow end, and soon I was joined by my man. He put his arms around me. While we stood in the water arms in arms, our eyes were once again locked onto each other. So he kissed me once, twice, three times. His lips were velvety and fleshy. Not before long, they were sliding down my neck and reaching all the way to my nipples. First the right nipple, then the other one. My budding breasts were thirsty of sweet, adoring kisses. Mustapha was glued to my bosom, and I felt showered in masculine, passionate love.