June
2008
The Erotic Adventures of a Sissy Named Jamie0
“Hello, ma’am. I do yard work and I noticed that you might need some help with yours,” the man said in a deeply sonorous voice when I opened my front door upon hearing someone knock.
He stood there before me in the light of the mid-morning Sun, and I had to catch myself from showing amazement, as I was stricken by the fact that here was one of the most breathtaking examples of the masculine sex that I’ve had the fortune to lay eyes on. His stature was around 6?2?, with him appearing to be in his early-30s, and I could tell through the T-shirt and shorts he was wearing that he had a body that would make the Greek gods envious. He was Caucasian, but his skin was beautifully bronzed. He had dark eyes and hair—of which his hair was mid-length and lied down nicely with just the slightest waviness to it, with bangs hanging just off to the sides of his eyes. His face was warm and inviting, with youthful, angular good-looks, while being smooth-shaven.
“Oh—hmm—I’ve kind of let it go a bit, haven’t I?,” I replied to him in a feminine voice after discreetly clearing the lump in my throat.
“Well that’s quite alright, ma’am, or else I wouldn’t have any work. My name’s Brutus, by the way.”
“My name is Jamie. Good to meet you, Brutus,” I said, while offering my hand for him to shake.
He took my hand; gently, but with a firmness to it that evinced a powerful grip, he shook it.
“It’s good to meet you, too, Jamie.”
It was in that moment that I first became especially aware of my fragility and smallness compared to him. I weighed only 145 lbs. and stood a mere 5?8? next to his imposing stature. The largeness of his hand enveloped my dainty palm and fingers. The skin of his hand was thick, and rougher than mine. It wasn’t unappealingly course, but it gave me the impression that he could handle thorn bushes with little worry.
So then also, awareness came to me of my long, natural fingernails that were painted deep pink with metallic sparkles; and the feminine gold ring with diamonds and a pink tourmaline center-stone that adorned the ring finger of my right hand, given to me by my mother for my 29th birthday less than a year ago.
The contrast with his hand made an impression within my psyche.
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