First Time at Lake House Ch. 01

I am a transgender woman who writes erotica about and for transgender women. My stories feature trans women being treated like women and having the diverse sexual experiences that they deserve. Enjoy and let me know what you think! This is the first chapter in a story exploring Analise's first sexual experiences while she vacations alone at her parent's lake house. This part features her getting into an awkward situation with a domineering family friend, and the first of the consequences which result.

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It was my first time at the lake house alone. In fact, it was my first time there since I was little. My parents refused to let me go up when I started transitioning, saying that I would embarrass the family to all the other old-money folks up there.

Their strictness pervaded all areas of my life. They were against alcohol, against weed, against sex. They didn't even buy me a phone until years after all my peers had gotten theirs.

My transition had gone well, though. I was now a beautiful, confident woman, and I had gone stealth. Nobody at my school or in my day-to-day life knew that I was transgender, save for my family and closest friends.

Still, I had relatively little experience. I snuck a few drinks here and there at friends' houses, but my parents didn't let me go to any parties.

I had never even gone on a date.

Leaning back on the plush sofa, among the grandeur of my family's house on the lake, I began to think of what sex would be like. Who would my first time be with? Surely, I would find men when I went off to college in the fall.

Did I want to wait that long though?

No, I thought, touching my womanhood, which had started to swell and create a bump in my skirt, I wanted someone this summer.

I wanted to feel a man's touch, now. Someone who could show me the ropes. Someone who could unlock the secrets of my body. Someone who would take charge.

I could already feel my panties start to moisten, so I pulled off my skirt. The lake house was mine for this week. Why shouldn't I do what I wanted?

I took a velvet pillow and placed it between my thighs, rubbing myself back and forth on it. I moaned, imagining the firm hands that would hold my hips and take my virginity when I would finally meet the guy who was right for me.

But then I stopped. How would I know I was ready? Didn't I want to get some experience before I met someone special?

Three hard raps on the door interrupted my thoughts. Who could that be?

I got up, still aroused and skirtless, and went to the door. I unlocked it and opened it a crack. Standing there with an unamused expression, tapping his foot, was Mr. Carrick.

He was a family friend, a classy older man, probably in his mid-50s. I remembered him from vacationing here previously. He was tall, with a salt-and-pepper beard and deep, brown eyes.

Above all, he was hot.

"Hello?" he asked. "I'm Mr. Carrick. I didn't expect the Ashforths to be in this week. I'm making sure nothing is amiss"

I didn't know what to say. Here I was in my underwear in front of Mr. Carrick, who hadn't seen me since I transitioned from being a guy!

"Hello Mr. Carrick," I said. "My parents let me come up alone this week."

He looked at me, skeptically. "And what is your name, young woman?"

"Analise, sir," I said.

"Analise..." he said, thinking. "I don't think I've heard that name... though you look familiar..." He pondered this for a moment, while I studied his muscles. I couldn't help but soak him in. His biceps protruded from the sleeves of his polo like mountains from the ground. I felt my arousal come back.

"Wait a minute," he said, "you used to be the Ashforth boy. But now it seems that you've... transitioned? You must be of age by now. And you've grown into such a beautiful young woman. Well, nothing wrong with that, in my eyes!"

"Uhh..." I said, stammering under the glow of his eyes. "Thank you, sir?"

"Well, why don't I come in for a coffee?" he asked, presumptuous as ever as he swooped the door away and stepped inside. I was mortified! His back was toward me, but in a minute he would turn around and see my without pants.

"The place still looks the same," he said, looking around at the high wood ceilings and the lush living room. Looking everywhere but at me. My apprehension hightened. "It looks like it did when your dad's dad owned the place! Such a great sense of taste. Although I never thought these rugs fit, here," he continued.

"Thanks, Mr. Carrick," I said. "I should get back to unpacking though. It's been a long trip up here."

"Don't be impolite!" he scolded, still with his back toward me. "I thought your parents raised to you to be a good girl. How about that cup of coffee?"

"Uhh," I said. "Yes, sir."

"Don't 'uhh' me!" he said, whirling around. When he stopped to look at me, his eyes flickered down to my lower half and his mouth dropped.

"What are you doing?" he asked, but it was more of a shout. His eyes were fixed on my panties. Under his gaze, my womanhood started to swell. I couldn't help it.

"This is not how a woman of your position should be dressed," he scolded, "whether you're transgender or not!"

I grabbed a blanket from the couch and desperately covered myself up so that he wouldn't notice that I had an erection.

"I was just getting changed when you knocked!" I yelped.

"No excuses," he said. "You're a slut. It's obvious."

"Mr. Carrick, no!" I yelled. I couldn't believe he would call me such a thing! It was degrading. I shouldn't be judged by an awkward mistake. I couldn't lie, though. As he called me a slut, arousal shot through my body. I wondered if he was imagining me having sex.

"Are your parents aware of this?" he asked. "I have half a mind to call them up and tell them, right now. Which one were you planning on getting with? Was it the Porter boy? I always knew that family was no good!"

He was threatening to tell my parents. That would be disastrous! Tell them what, though? He thought I had arranged a hook up at my parents cabin? I had to tell him the truth, no matter how embarrassed I would be.

"Mr. Carrick," I said, my voice small.

"Yes, Ms. Ashforth?" he said, peering down at me from his strong nose.

"I wasn't going to have sex. In fact, I've never even had sex with anyone, before."

"What?!" he asked. "A young and well-looking girl like you? Why aren't you wearing pants, then?"

"It's embarrassing," I said, burying my head in my hands. The embarrassment made me grow even harder, though. I could feel a spot of wetness in my underwear. In a few moments, I would tell a family friend that I had been pleasuring myself just as he knocked on the door.

He sat next to me and touched my shoulder with his hand. I felt the warmth of his touch and shivered. My body craved more of him.

He looked me in the eye with deep, searching eyes. Up close, his features looked even better. His face was so well-defined. He looked like someone who, with confidence and a certain tempered ferocity, could just brush off the blows of life.

I stared back in his eyes.

With shaky breath, I told him. "I was touching myself, Mr. Carrick. I was fantasizing about what my first time would be like."

He nodded.

"That's certainly the behavior of a bad girl, still," he said. "Isn't it?"

"Yes, sir," I said, grasping his knee with my hand. "Will you be able to forgive me?"

"Maybe," he said. "But we have to ensure that this won't happen again. How do you think we can do that?"

"I don't know, sir," I said.

He stroked my chin with his finger. "You need to tell me how," he said, smiling but firm.

"Maybe," I said, "if I have my first time, I'll stop fantasizing about it."

"That's an interesting idea, Ms. Ashforth. Do I need to give you your first time, then?"

"I think so, Mr. Carrick."

"I see," he said. He hoisted me into his lap. Through the thin layer of my underwear, I could feel his hardness poking through his jeans. I felt my wetness dribble down my thigh. I was filled with desire in that moment, but he just let me sit there for a beat. I was so eager; I thought I might explode if I did not get more of him, but he was happy to tease me like this.

I bit my lip and looked up at his sharp, broad features. He brought his lips to mine and kissed me. It was pure ecstasy. It felt like plunging into the lake on a hot summer's day, like a humid swelter being broken by cool water. I was submerged within the ocean of his mouth.

He kissed long and deep. His tongue poked into my mouth, ever so slightly, teasing me and exerting his dominance over my lips.

When he pulled away, I moaned. I couldn't help it.

"You seem to be enjoying this," he said. "Don't you think that you need a bit of punishment before so much pleasure? After all, even if we're addressing the root cause, you still need to be discouraged from doing what you just did."

Punishment? What did he want to do to me? I could hardly think, though. I wanted him to do with me as he wished. I knew he was experienced. I trusted him with my body. I wanted him to take charge of it.

"Yes, sir," I said.

"Well then," he said. "Why don't you turn around?"

"How so?"

"Like this," he said, flipping my body around so that my head was facing the couch cushions and my butt was over his lap. My womanhood pressed into his manhood. I couldn't help but shudder. I couldn't believe Mr. Carrick was staring at my butt, covered by only the thin fabric of my panties.

"I'm going to spank you, Ms. Ashford," he said.

Spank me? I had never been spanked, before. I grew even more aroused by this. He wanted to discipline me. I wanted this to be my place, under the hand of a strong and respectable man like him.

"Okay, sir," I said.

"After each spank, you will say 'Thank you, sir,'" he said. "I am going to spank you ten times, total. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

His hand came down hard. A *thwack* resounded throughout the cabin. I yelped and moved my legs.

"Be a good girl, Ms. Ashforth," he scolded me as he firmly moved my legs back into position and raised my butt up. "You must stay like this."

"Okay, sir."

"And you did not thank me. Let's start over."

Before I could respond, another hard smack came down on my butt. With it, I could feel a bit of wetness come out of me.

"Thank you, sir."

He spanked me again. And again. And again. I felt the pleasure build inside of me as my butt grew red and tender underneath his hand.

Finally, he stopped.

"You're almost done, Ms. Ashforth," he said. "But I'm going to spank you a bit more. Without these." As he said this, he pulled my panties down and off my legs. My lower half was now completely exposed. He could see everything. I could feel the air travel over the tender skin of my butt and the rough texture of his jeans against my womanhood, jeans which I was now dripping onto.

He brought his hand down again, this time on my bare ass. He hit it in a series of unyielding smacks, making me yelp each time. There was only his hand and me, only the pleasure emanating and building with each downward stroke of his hand, until I was a mess of moans. Each time he spanked me my hips moved across his lap, rubbing me into his jeans. More and more wetness pooled out from womanhood. I was overwhelmed. I didn't know how much longer I could withstand his rough smacks, but I didn't want him to stop. I knew that I had been bad, that I shouldn't have answered the door how I was dressed. I knew that I deserved this, but more than deserving this, I wanted it. In that moment, my butt belonged to him. I wanted him to take more of me. I needed him in my mouth, in my opening, inside of me, thrusting hard, but I also needed him to continue spanking me.

He stopped after what felt like an eternity. I curled into him.

"You're a good girl, Ms. Ashforth," he said, stroking my hair. "I'm proud of you."

"Thank you, sir," I said, clutching him. I felt a buzz throughout my body. I felt delicate. I felt as if I was staring down a precipice I had never crossed before.

I felt as if I might come.