Like a Girl recently received a new review:
Wonderful Twist On Gender
I'm a big fan of crossdressing stories and I'm a definite fan of Alison Tyler. Put them together and you have a wonderful adventure! I like how Ms. Tyler took the well-loved act of cross-dressing and gave us something new. The exploration of all the characters was interesting and the result of their actions left me pondering long after I was done. Definitely pick this one up!
Here's a snip:
“You touch yourself like a girl.” There was both disgust and pity in his tone.
“I am a girl.”
“Not in that outfit. You’re trying for Officer Joe, or something, right? Fresh out of basic training. Yet you grip your joint in that wimpy manner. Oooh, look at me! I have a cock. Christ, it’s not even a cock. It’s some girly toy.” He’d nailed me. He was right. I had gone half the distance in my efforts, hadn’t been willing to go the full route.
“Try again.” His voice was cold. The rules of the games had changed.
I thought of what Logan looked like when he came on me, standing next to the bed, working his hand on his own cock. I found that vision mesmerizing, his hand, jerking faster and faster, touching himself harder and with more power than I’d ever dare.
With difficulty, I tried to channel that sexy image, tried to climb inside. I closed my eyes and let my head go back, feeling a little more powerful in my Docs than I would have barefoot, although the fact that my jeans were pooled around my ankles did limit my mobility. Concentrating, I slid my hand along the smooth plastic cock. Up and down, squeezing hard, speeding up.
“Spit on your palm,” Logan whispered.
I did. Or I tried. Waiting for the inevitable, “You spit like a girl” comment to come. I could easily have licked my palm. I could have unbuckled the toy and deep throated it with finesse. But this was different. Suddenly, this had become a lesson—work rather than play.
“Jesus,” Logan said, and I opened my eyes, watching as he stood up from the sofa and came to my side. He pushed me hard back up against the wall, spit cleanly into his own palm and started to work my cock for me. And in instant, I felt as if it really was my cock. As if I truly had become connected to this toy, or as if I were part of an X-rated version of the children’s classic fable of the Velveteen Rabbit, and that the synthetic cock had somehow turned real.
Logan’s ice blue eyes burned into mine as he stroked me, forcing the connection between the two of us. And I could imagine us somewhere else. In the back room of a club, Logan manhandling me. Others watching. An audience forming because of our heat. Or out behind some bar, in the parking lot, Logan using his own spit to lube me up, knowing that in seconds he was going to have to stand aside, to watch me shoot my come on the dirt....
The story is available on Kindle for .99 cents.