The Interview

“Well, Ms. Upham, everything seems to be in order on your resume,” he said, focusing as closely as he could on the paper between him and the interviewee, almost using it as a shield to keep himself from staring at her nylon covered legs. “Degree from Fordham, an internship with Continental, and then three years with the Canton Group in Sales Analysis. You seem to be exactly what we’re looking for.”

“Thank you, Mr. Harris, that’s such a relief to hear; since the market turmoil and Canton’s problems, it has been so hard to get an interview, let alone a job.” Nikki was nervous, desperate for a job. In the last years Nikki had not a single second interview, let alone an offer. Of course, that was spent as Nick, looking for a job as a boy, as she had been born. Maybe it was true, sex appeal did help, it sure seemed to be here, if she could only stay calm, try to forget that she was a boy dressed as a girl, a sexy one at that.

“Yes, well…” His voice trailed off, he glanced quickly at the woman in front of him, eyes quickly darting from her breasts to her legs, then back to the resume. No, no, it could not be, he thought to himself, it made no sense.

“Yes, Mr. Harris,” Nikki asked nervously.

“I, maybe it’s nothing Ms. Upham, but Scooter Porter and I play handball together at the same club, I remember him mentioning that he had a sharp young associate from Fordham working for him.” He knew it could not be, but something was not right.

“Yes?”

“Well, it’s just, I remember, I think, pretty clearly.” He could not believe he was about to voice his thoughts. “Scooter telling me his new wiz kid was named Nick. Nick Upham, as I recall.”

“I…” Oh fuck, Nikki thought, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“I could be wrong, but…I know he told me it was Nick, not Nikki. It just doesn’t make sense to me.”

“Are you sure, Mr. Harris, maybe you didn’t hear him correctly.” Stay calm, stay cool, this would be okay.

“No, no, Ms. Upham, he was pretty explicit. His new associate was named Nick. I remember him telling me we should see if Nick plays handball and he could join us at the club. See, the thing is, we belong a male only club, so it had to be a guy.” There was no way. Right. He was being foolish, there was no way that this beautiful woman, with those breasts, those legs, there was no way.

“Um, did you see on my resume, Mr. Harris, I put together an analysis program for regression in emerging markets.” Distract him. That’s what she had to do, distract him. Forget sex appeal for the moment. Fuck, why did I wear such a short skirt. Fuck, why did I wear a skirt at all. What the hell am I doing trying to be a woman. This is crazy. Nikki didn’t care how much she actually liked dressing as a woman, how strangely erotic it was.

“Yes, yes, Ms. Upham, as I said, you’re exactly what I’m looking for,” he responded, wondering how the hell he said that. Just what he was looking for? What the hell. “Anway, Ms. Upham, well, I can’t help but thinking you’re hiding something from me.” He had to ask, there was no way he could let this go, no way.

“Well, I…I’m not really sure how to say this, Mr. Harris, it’s rather embarrassing.”

“Ms. Upham, if there are core values here that we put above everything else, they are honesty and intergrity.”

“Well, Mr. Harris, I…I guess…you see, I…I’m not exactly a, what’s the best term to use, a genetic girl,” Nikki burst out, hardly believing that she could have such bad luck. Nikki knew she passed as a woman, but he had to know Scooter? Fuck!

“What…what the hell does that mean? Not a genetic girl? I…I’ve never heard that term before, Mr. Upham,” Mr. Harris said as it slowly dawned on him what was going on, no matter how badly his brain did not want to actually admit that this beautiful woman might not be a woman at all.

“Er, Mr. Porter was right, the…his new associate was named Nick,” Nikki said, her face reddening.

“That’s what I thought! So you didn’t work for Scooter. What, did you make all this up, is this all a lie?” It had to be something else, it had to be. There was no way this woman wasn’t a woman, there was no way he was actually attracted to wasn’t actually…no way.

“No, Mr. Harris, I did work for Mr. Porter,” Nikki said softly, trying to figure out what to do, how to get out of this.

“I don’t understand. His associate was a guy named Nick. Yet you’re telling me that you worked for him and that…no…no…that doesn’t make any sense. You’re…” No way, there was no way!

“Yes, Sir, I was born a boy. I guess I still am, in some way, anyway, a genetic boy, though I…I don’t go by Nick anymore. I go by Nikki, now.” There, she admitted it, both to Mr. Harris and to herself. This wasn’t just a ploy to get a job, this was more, this was Nick somehow admitting more, admitting, however strangely, admitting to himself or herself, that he just might be something more than to him or her, something feminine, something…a woman, a woman inside himself.

“You’re not a woman? No…no…that isn’t possible. You’re…I’m not sure how to phrase this with sexual harassment laws and all, but…you’re beautiful. How can you be a boy,” he asked, unable to use the word ‘man’ to describe her, not with those breasts, those legs, not when he found her so fucking attractive.

“I am, Mr. Harris,” Nikki, face flush again, unable to explain that while she might be a genetic boy, for the first time in her life, right there, in that office, she wasn’t anymore, she wasn’t a boy, she was a girl.

“You…you have…boy parts,” he said, half statement, half asking.

“Yes, Sir.” Suddenly Nikki was as ashamed about her small penis as she had ever been in her life.

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, Ms. Upham, but, fuck it, I don’t believe you.”

“I…I can show you, Mr. Harris,” Nikki heard herself say as if it was someone else saying it.

“Oh, fuck, you…you…you have a…a…” What? What word was he searching for? Cock? That wasn’t right. That would be his natural word. Cock. But how could that be right? Fuck, look at her.

“A penis, Mr. Harris,” Nikki said softly, the word sounding strange on her lips. “Yes, Mr. Harris, I suppose I do.”

“But you have,” he looked at her chest.

“Breasts, Mr. Harris.”

“Breasts. But…you look…you’re…you’re beautiful.”

“You’re going to make me blush, Mr. Harris,” Nikki whispered. Beautiful? Did he really find her beautiful. My goodness, how feminine this made her feel, how pretty, how womanly, how wonderful.

“Turn around, Ms. Upham,” he heard someone say, he heard his own voice say, staring at her legs, at her breasts, needing to see for himself, not sure why.

“Mr. Harris, I…” Was he really asking? Did he want to see what she thought he wanted.

“Fuck, look at that ass. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be so crude, but, fuck, you’ve got better legs, a better ass, than any woman here.” The words flowed again, he knew he had to see more, no matter what happened, he had to see, he just had to.

“I do?”

“I guess you do have a penis, Ms. Upham,” he said touching her gently, rubbing, stunned at the swelling going on in his own pants, feeling his cock while touching her soft penis. “But fuck if you don’t have the smoothest, most fucking feminine…”

“Mr. Harris, please, you shouldn’t,” Nikki said softly, as soft as her feminine penis, as soft as her legs, as soft as her breasts. She said it with no conviction, no feeling. She might just as easily told him to do more, to touch her more, to rub, to feel, to…

“Do you want me to stop, Nikki,” he asked hoping, mentally begging, she said no.

“Oh, fuck, Mr. Harris, oh fuck, oh fuck, that…that feels…”

“Do you want me to stop, Nikki?”

“No,” she said so quietly he could not have heard her.

“What?”

“No, please, no, no, no, please, don’t stop, don’t,” Nikki moaned as his hand rubbed her crotch, as his had touched her, teased her, excited her.

“Do you want to take off your skirt, Ms. Upham? Or would you prefer I stop and we can get back to discussing the job opening,” he toyed with her, thinking of one opening he never imagined thinking about.

“No, no, please…please don’t stop, Mr. Harris.” God, why was he torturing her like this, teasing her. Why couldn’t he just be a man, why couldn’t he just take her, like a man would, should.

“Are you sure, Ms. Upham? I don’t want this taken the wrong way, but I love a woman in nylons,” he said, running his hand over her legs, the nylon touching him as it always did. Her legs were as sexy, hot, smooth, beautiful. God he wanted her.

“That feels so good,” Nikki moaned, shuddering at the feel of a man’s touch.

“I just love running my hands over a woman’s legs, over her pantyhose, teasing her, toying with her.”

“Mr. Harris. I…I’m not sure about this,” Nikki belatedly said, suddenly on edge, realizing she was about to hit the point of no return.

“You’ve never had a man touch you, have you, Ms. Upham?”

“No…no, Sir,” she admitted softly, wondering why she had ever waited for this.

“You’ve fantasized about it though.”

“Yes,” she said quickly, never dreaming she would ever tell someone something like that.

“Turn around, Ms. Upham. I can’t say that I’ve ever been attracted to a man, but let me tell you, you’re no man.”

“No, Sir.”

“Look. Look Ms. Upham. Look at those breasts. Look at those legs. Look at that smoothness, the soft, the feminine, the beautiful lines of your pantyhose.”

“Oh god, oh god.”

“You’re swelling, Ms. Upham,” he laughed, stroking her, using his fingertips, just like he would to a woman, any woman.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Harris, I can’t help it.”

“No, Ms. Upham, no woman can help it when she gets excited, when her clit starts tingling.” She was a woman to him.

“Mr. Harris, I don’t know if we should.”

“Why don’t you have a seat, Ms. Upham,” he said, commanded, pulling her, spinning her onto his lap, onto his erect cock.

“Mr. Harris,” Nikki yelped, feeling his erection, his throbbing, suddenly losing herself.

“Yes, Ms. Upham?”

“You’re…you’ve got an…you’re…” She could not speak the word, so confused was she by her reaction to feeling him press against her, by her grinding, her deep, sudden need.

“Yes, Ms. Upham, I am.”

“I…I never…”

“Do you want to stand up, Ms. Upahm?”

“I…no…no…I want to…ohhhh god, that feels so good on my…my…”

“Pussy?”

“Yes,” she groaned, “yes, yes.”

“Ms. Upham,” he said, “stand up, take off your dress, I want to see your breasts,” he said, pushing on them as she sat on the edge of the desk.

Nikki stood, shaking, both from desire for him, for his cock, the throbbing she was feeling a second ago, now not, and from nervousness.

“Turn around,” Ms. Upham,” he ordered her.

“What…what are you doing,” she asked, almost shaking at the sounds, at his belt unbuckling, at his pants dropping, at his shirt coming off.

“I’m getting naked, Ms. Upham,” he chuckled, pushing her forward slightly, pushing her so her hands went to the desk in front of her, involuntarily, as she bent over.

“Mr. Harris,” she squealed. She felt his hands on her ass, grabbing her pantyhose, ripping, just enough. Just enough to expose her pussy ass, but not enough to allow her own small penis free from the nylon trapping it against her.

“Hold still,” he growled, spitting.

“Mr. Harris,” she protested, loudly, “you can’t…OHHHHHHHHHHHHH,” Nikki felt his fingers on her, touch her, probing, pushing, something no one, man or woman had ever done to her before.

“Mr. Harris, please,” she gasped, groaned. “I…I don’t know…I don’t know…I don’t know…” She kept chanting, never finishing, not saying no, just chanting.

“Nikki,” he laughed softly.

“What, what, what?”

He moved his soaking wet fingers around her rim, teasing, toying, tormenting. “Your pussy is soaking wet and I’m going to fuck it.” He pushed one, then two wet fingers into her pussy ass, trying with all his might not to shove his whole fist inside this gorgeous boy-girl.

“Oh fuck,” Nikki yelped as his fingers, one, then two pushed into her. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Then they were gone, replaced quickly by something larger, thicker, harder. Nikki knew what it was, of course, knew that his cock was now poised against her, waiting, knew that a man’s cock was on the verge, was touching her.

“Mr. Harris, please, please,” she begged, unsure if she was begging him to stop or begging him to finish.

And then, in the blink of an eye, in an instant, he made the decision for her and she closed her eyes and surrendered as she felt it quickly, confidently, fill her.

“OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH,” she moaned as his cock filled her and she first thought, then said what he wanted to hear more than anything in the world. “Fuck me, Mr. Harris, FUCK ME!”

He did, and excited as he was to feel the inside of a special girl, it did not take him long until he was thrusting hard and deep and panting and fucking and with a grunt, a growl, a yell, he pushed into her with a final, violent, needy thrust and had the most powerful orgasm in his life.

“Oh fuck,” he said pushing his pelvis hard against her, holding, his cum deep in her, “oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.”

That’s all it took for Nikki, for she knew exactly what he was doing, holding in her, knew, somehow, despite never having felt it before, the instant he shot inside her, the instant his cum began to fill her.

Feeling him, feeling a man, feeling Mr. Harris explode inside her sent her over the edge for she too felt an orgasm, a powerful, rumbling orgasm of her own start deep inside her, felt it the instant he came, felt it despite her own penis, her own clit, never being touched.

She felt it, the orgasm, the femininity; she felt it, no longer boy, now only woman.

She felt it as the orgasm washed over her, longer, all over, everything, dizzy, felt it a minute, two, as he held his cock inside her, felt herself become a woman, never, ever, to be a boy again.

*********

Images are from Pantyhose Addict. Obviously Izzy (who owns/runs/poses the site) is NOT transgendered. She's an amazingly beautiful woman who has run an amazing site for a number of years. I only wish I was half as pretty as she is. I HIGHLY suggest joining and seeing all the thousands of pictures she has posted over the years (she has a great blog, too.)