My neighbor

Warm May days were upon us. After all, the end of spring is a time of hope and anticipation. You always want to believe that the coming summer will bring you many new sensations, new acquaintances, and, of course, life experience. So, I was waiting for the upcoming summer with particular trepidation. And I had my own reasons for that. But before I tell you about those reasons, I'll tell you a little about myself.

My name is Valery, and I'm 18 years old. I live in an average Russian city with my parents. I study at an ordinary, average school. In general, I'm an ordinary Russian guy, if it weren't for one circumstance. I don't know when it happened, but at some point, I realized that I wanted to be

a girl. I, of course, thought a lot about it, weighed everything carefully, and still caught myself thinking about men. I looked at naked girls, and they didn't excite me at all. The only thing was, I wanted to be like them. I wanted to have the same tender and smooth skin, a narrow waist, a beautiful butt, firm breasts, and most importantly, that little slit between the legs. I imagined how I would take care of myself, how men would devour me with their eyes, how they would want me. Because when I saw naked men, I got so aroused. I wanted to caress and kiss the male member. I dreamed that strong male hands would squeeze my waist and that wonder would fill me from the inside. I started looking for information on this topic and learned that in the 21st century, nothing is impossible. I learned about sex-change operations, breast augmentation, and hormones that can turn a male body into a female one.

The first time I dressed as a girl was when I was a teenager. I was home alone and was looking for something in the closet when I suddenly stumbled upon my mom's tights. An irresistible desire to put them on arose in me. I pulled on the tights and liked how my legs looked in them. Immediately, I took out some skirt and blouse and tried them on right away. Instead of breasts, I stuffed some rags, and lo and behold, I found my mom's wig. It was on my head in an instant. When I approached the mirror, a pretty girl was looking back at me. I must say, this incident, I believe, played a decisive role in my life. After that, I constantly dressed as a girl and walked around the apartment like that. A little later, I started using makeup. I liked walking around the house, practicing walking like women.

A little over two years passed like this, and finally, I made up my mind. I set a goal for myself that I would definitely become a woman. Naturally, I didn't involve my parents in my plans, but I gathered the necessary information. Thank goodness for the Internet. From it, I learned everything necessary to achieve my goal. So, a plan for my transformation into a woman matured in my head. The first point was to get hormones and learn how to use them. I won't go into details about how I found and bought them, I'll just say it cost a lot of effort and money. After all, it's hard for a boy to get such a specific product. Here I should mention my "secret" teacher. Through the same Internet, I started corresponding with an adult transvestite who helped me acquire the necessary drugs. I'll add that his role is hard to overestimate. Since through him, I always got everything I needed without any problems, for example, discs with makeup application courses.

So, I started taking female hormones. At the same time, I began conducting "training sessions," as I called them. That is, during the times when I was alone, I would dress in women's clothes and learn to apply makeup. The time when I was at school or somewhere else didn't go to waste either. I observed how girls behave, how they dress, what hairstyles they wear. I also noted their emotions for myself. How they react to this or that situation. What words they say. Their gestures and facial expressions, even how they rummage in their purses. I also watched adult girls and each time noted something new. At home, after changing and applying makeup, I tried to repeat it. I invented various situations and acted out my reactions. I spent all my money on hormones, and what was left, on clothes and cosmetics. I looked at my classmates and bought things I liked. I went to the market in another district, afraid of meeting acquaintances.

When I turned 18, I had a decent stash of women's clothes. Several fashionable jeans, a couple of capris, about eight different blouses and tops, two pairs of high-heeled shoes, stiletto boots, and, of course, short skirts. Of course, there was a lot of beautiful lingerie. Bras and panties. Stockings, tights, a garter belt. All the money I was given for my birthday, I spent on two expensive wigs made of natural hair. One was dark red, curly hair, just below the shoulders with highlighted curls, and the second was light with straight hair down to the waist. But all of this paled in comparison to the changes that had happened to my body. From the day I started taking hormones, I photographed myself with a digital camera twice a month. Two photos, front and back. For the first few months, I didn't notice anything. I even got upset, wondering why nothing was happening, but after a while, I started noticing changes. My face, and indeed my whole body, became much more delicate and feminine, so to speak. My body is slender, and it was clearly noticeable that my hips had become wider and rounder. My butt had filled out and acquired appetizing shapes. But the most important thing was my breasts. The nipples, which used to be small and puny, were now the size of a 5-ruble coin, their edges had grown and were visible even through a T-shirt. The breasts themselves were growing at an enormous speed. In a year, they grew to a size somewhere between 1 and 2, acquiring a magnificent shape. During my training sessions, I even stopped wearing a bra and stuffing rags into it. When I put on a tight-fitting top, my breasts were very clearly and sexily prominent, and my nipples stuck out, pointing slightly upward. I liked caressing my breasts, kneading them with my hands, stroking, teasing my nipples. I could even reach them with my tongue. But now another problem appeared. I had to get used to hiding it from others, and first and foremost, from my parents. I'm not even talking about school. If it was still okay during regular lessons, then in physical education, it was problematic. I had to wear T-shirts several sizes larger, trying to make sure no one saw me in the locker room. But still, when I ran, my breasts shook a lot, and it seemed to me that everyone could see it. I had to forget about medical check-ups altogether. This was the price for my second life. After all, after dressing as a girl, I could no longer imagine myself without these mounds.

All my classmates talked endlessly about girls, especially since puberty had begun. Some girls were already dating guys, naturally older than themselves. Many had even lost their virginity and didn't hide it. I, of course, also thought a lot about it. I imagined many times how I would have sex with a man. I wanted to try these sensations. I wanted to know how men would react to me, a "girl." And then such an opportunity presented itself. The sewer pipe in our bathroom cracked, and my father called a plumber. I was returning from school at 2 o'clock, and my parents at 6. Dad asked me to wait for the repairman. I decided that when he arrived, he would be met not by a son, but by a daughter. I even bought a new sundress of a beautiful dark brown color specifically for this. So, after getting permission to leave the last lesson, I literally flew home. Running into my room, I took out my suitcase where I kept all my things and started getting ready. Carefully, I pulled on black stockings. I put on black lace thong panties, slightly widened in the front to hide my member, and in the back, a thin strip cutting into my butt. After thinking a bit, I decided not to wear a bra, as the sundress had a deep neckline. Then black stiletto sandals appeared on my feet. Sundress, red wig, hoop earrings, a thin silver chain with a heart-shaped pendant around my neck, a bracelet on my left wrist matching the chain and two rings, one thin ring on my right hand. Then a bit of foundation, mascara, light eyeshadow, small pencil strokes, and lipstick. Well, the finishing touch was my nails. I bought removable fake nails that glued on with special glue and then easily came off if soaked in water. I went out into the hallway, stood in front of the mirror, and looked at myself. In the reflection was a young girl about 18 years old, with red hair, in a fashionable sundress just above the knees, which seductively hugged my butt and emphasized my waist, slender legs in sexy stockings, beautiful makeup and a stylish hairstyle, perfume. In general, the result of my efforts and skills acquired over a year. In the bathroom, on the towel dryer, I hung a few of my panties and bras to enhance the impression and started waiting. God, these minutes of waiting lasted an eternity. And then the intercom rang, and two men were at the door of my apartment. One was about 50, with a mustache, stocky and tall, his name was Viktor; the second, Sergey, was about 23-25, of average height, quite handsome.

 — Hello, miss, what happened? — asked Viktor, looking straight at my chest.

 — I don't know, something's leaking in the bathroom. I went to take a shower yesterday, and the whole floor is in water, — I answered, very nervous and stammering a little.

 — Probably the sewer, right, Vit? — said Sergey.

I immediately understood, or rather in this case, I should say "understood," that Sergey was starting to get embarrassed. He immediately put on a serious look and tried to impress me. It was visible to the naked eye. He even asked:

 — And where is your bathroom?

I smiled slyly and pointed my finger at the door, trying to show off my French manicure. They went into the bathroom and started poking around there. I decided to show my involvement and asked:

 — Maybe something is in your way, let me clear it?

 — Yeah, these bottles with shampoo or whatever, put them away, — answered Viktor. I approached the bathtub and started rearranging the bottles of soap and shampoo. At the same time, I showed the guys my butt. I adjusted my hair, putting so much femininity and seduction into every movement. All that I had rehearsed in my training sessions. After clearing it, I asked:

 — Is it serious, or not?

Sergey walked over, squatted down, looked under the bathtub, shone a flashlight there, and turned on the water. After a while, water started pouring onto the floor.

 — And what's your name, beautiful? — he suddenly asked.

I was even a little taken aback but answered:

 — Valeria, and yours?

 — I'm Sergey, and this is Vitya, — he said, nodding at his partner, — Lera, please bring a rag, there's water on the floor.

 — Why the hell did you turn on such pressure, — Viktor said rudely and, turning to me, remarked, — He probably got flustered, whenever he sees a pretty girl, everything falls out of his hands.

I smiled, handed him the rag, and, making an innocent face, supported this topic, addressing Viktor, I said:

 — So shy, and you wouldn't tell by looking at him.

 — Don't listen to him, Lera, he's talking nonsense, he's already seen his share, yeah, old, you better go shine the light, can't see a damn thing, — Sergey muttered, clearly embarrassed. They continued working, and I went to my room. Entering, I couldn't calm down, my heart was pounding in my chest like a huge engine from the excitement, and my member had popped out of my panties from the erection. I was even afraid it would be visible, but the sundress hid everything perfectly. Calming down a bit, adjusting my overexcited organ, I gathered my thoughts and decided to offer them tea. Approaching the door, I started to open it and saw Sergey in the doorway.

 — Lerochka, we're all done, accept the work, — he said, shifting from foot to foot, — Can I smoke on your balcony?

 — Yes, of course, I was just about to smoke too, let's go, — I took my purse, which I had prepared specifically to rummage through it in front of men. It contained all sorts of female junk, cigarettes, and two condoms. I wanted them to be noticed, as if by accident. I thought it would add to my significance in the eyes of men. Now was just such an opportunity. We walked through the hall to the balcony. I walked with a confident, rehearsed gait, swaying my butt a little.

Sergey walked behind and didn't take his eyes off my legs. Entering the balcony, I started rummaging in my purse looking for cigarettes. Sergey had already lit up but didn't put away his lighter, clearly intending to take care of me. My plan worked; he saw the condoms and looked away. I took out a started pack of thin Parliaments, and Sergey gallantly gave me a light. I decided I wouldn't speak first. About a minute passed before Sergey decided. It was visible that he didn't know where to start, apparently choosing the right words. For him, this minute was pure torment. But for me, it was a minute of triumph. The triumph of feminine charm and beauty. I watched as this young man got nervous, as he couldn't take his eyes off my legs, my hair, as he openly stared at my chest. Finally, he said in a trembling voice:

 — Do you live with your parents?

 — Yes, — I answered calmly, expecting a continuation.

 — Studying or working?

 — Studying, um, at the institute, 2nd year, — I answered, hesitating a little, and tried to smile sweetly. It's worth noting that I probably blushed a lot because I had to lie, but the foundation hid it perfectly. Although my new acquaintance clearly didn't doubt my words. It was noticeable that he considered me, let's say, not of his level. Sergey was self-conscious and looked away when I looked at him. And I, in turn, had already decided to deviate from the previously planned manner of behavior, keeping my distance. My member was straining to get out of my panties. I was so aroused by this situation that if Sergey had directly offered me to suck him off right now, I would have done it right on the balcony. Different thoughts were swirling in my head. The general meaning of which was sex, sex, sex. For some reason, at that moment, I wanted Sergey's member to be in my butt. Suddenly, without expecting it myself, making pitiful eyes and voice, I asked:

 — Serezhenka, how much do I owe you? You just saved me. I don't know how to thank you?

 — Nothing needed, for beautiful students, everything is free today, — he answered, realizing his necessity and gaining a little confidence. Yes, the answer wasn't the one I expected. At that moment, I wanted to hear something like "You can pay in kind." I thought then, here are two people standing on the balcony, both wanting sex, but neither dares to say it. But how arousing it is. If Sergey hadn't finished his cigarette and left, I probably would have unzipped his fly, taken out his member, and sucked him off. But he left, I finished my cigarette, caught my breath a bit, and went to offer them tea. But they were already standing at the door, about to leave. Seeing me, Viktor went into the bathroom, turned on the tap, and said:

 — Accept the work, mistress, and we're off.

I don't remember how they left, how I closed the door behind them, everything was like in a fog. I only remember how I sat down in the armchair, pulled down my panties, took out my clean-shaven member, and as soon as I touched it, I came immediately. The orgasm was very strong. I wanted a man so badly that my legs were