I sat at my desk and somehow my hand found its way into my jeans. I started stroking my tingling cock as I played each video.

I closed my eyes and imagined myself as the guy in one of the pictures who was fucking a Latina slut with a fat pussy to kill for. The guy was fucking and sucking her brains out after they’d just met her minutes ago at a park.

Why can’t things like that ever happen to me? The guys in porno flicks have all the luck. I’d love to fuck a hot slut that I just met, but stuff like that never happens to me.

I forced the thought out of mind and forced myself to think about the videos of Tatiana. Just as I was getting into it, my leg started vibrating. My pager was going off.

I work for a plumbing company. I’m on call during work hours, so I spend most of that time doing whatever I want until a call comes in.

I swear those people have the worst timing. They always call when I’m deep into something I enjoy, like jacking off, for instance.

I called my dispatcher, Susie. She said, “Victor, let me run a name past you: Lydia Newman. Does that name ring a bell?”

“No, should it?” I asked.

“Yes. She’s a customer that you serviced just a few days ago and she’s already calling back complaining that her pipes won’t stop leaking since you came out there.”

My hard-on was dwindling away. I started pulling my jeans back up as I scrolled through my mental rolodex of customers that I’d serviced in the last few days. I remembered Lydia Newman.  She was a fox, a few years older than me but sexy as hell and very flirtatious.

I said, “Susie, I apologize about the pipes, but they were working fine when I left and she seemed happy. She even gave me a twenty-dollar tip.”

“Regardless of that, she still made a re-call, so this time I want you to get it right. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She read off Ms. Newman’s address. I don’t have the best memory in the world, but for some reason, that address didn’t sound right.

“Be prompt,” Susie said.

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied. “I’ll do that.”

She hung up without saying goodbye. I slammed the phone down and called her every curse word I could think of.

I checked my watch after I calmed down. I wanted—no, I needed to finish masturbating, but I didn’t have very much time to get to where I was going so I bookmarked Nasty Napster and disconnected from the Internet.

Not only did the address seem different, the drive to Lydia’s house seemed different too. This neighborhood was a lot nicer than what I remembered. This was a more expensive area with great landscaping and houses the size of small apartment buildings. It didn’t look familiar at all.

Something just wasn’t right.

She even answered the door in a strange way—on the first knock. I usually had to wait a minute for the customer to get to the door.

But the person who opened the door was indeed the woman who had been flirting with me a couple days earlier. The only difference was she looked a lot better today. Her makeup and hair was done and she was wearing some kind of one-piece, wrap-around skirt that looked like she’d taken it out of an old Japanese movie. It was very colorful and showed an ample amount of cleavage.

“Hi, you called?” I said as I struggled to keep my gaze focused on her eyes instead of her breasts. My cock started sliding down my leg.

She stepped to the side to let me in. “I think I have a leak under the sink. You could come take a look at it,” she said. She closed the door and locked it.

I wasn’t sure if Lydia remembered me, but she showed no signs of recognition.

I followed her through the house and complimented her on it just to see her reaction. There was none. She just said thanks and kept leading the way.

We arrived at a small bathroom just beyond the stairs. “It’s in there,” she pointed.

I took a look in the half-bathroom. There wasn’t any water on the floor, nor a bucket under the faucet to catch leaking water. “Under the sink?” I asked, dumbfounded.

I sat on the floor to get a better look, examined every inch of pipe carefully. “I don’t see a leak.”

“Well, there’s gotta be because I’m feeling all wet all over,” said Lydia.

I looked up. She had that sexy expression from days ago when she was flirting with me and I thought maybe she was doing it again. There was something sexual in the way she said her last statement.

“Excuse me?” I chuckled.

Her wrap-around was split in the front and I could see glimpses on her bald pussy as she smiled and stepped over my outstretched legs.

My cock reacted immediately and started sliding a little farther down my thigh.

“Here, I’ll show you,” said Lydia.

She kneeled in front of me with her legs spread wide apart. She opened the skirt fully, revealing a pouty cunt with traces of juice between the lips.

“Oh, my god!” I blurted.

It was obvious what she wanted and I felt the same way, plus I was still very horny from the videos I'd seen.

She placed her hand over her snatch. A red fingernail disappeared between the swollen outer lips, and then reappeared as she slowly masturbated in front of me.

“It’s wet all over. See?”

I slid forward as my cock grew even stiffer. I touched her thigh and then moved my hand towards her pussy. She moved her hand out of the way and spread her thighs a little wider.

I touched the tender mound, then started thumbing along the outer lips and let my thumb slip between them. She was right. It was saturated. She was hornier than me, if you can believe that.

Her breathing got heavier and her legs started trembling. “Do you think you can fix it?” she moaned.

“If I can get my tool out, I’m sure I can do something about it.” It sounded corny, but that’s what they would have said in a porno.

She stood, said, “Come with me.”

I followed her to the living room. She motioned for me to sit on the couch. She kneeled between my legs, unzipped my pants, and reached inside.

“Is this your tool?” she joked, but her mood turned serious as she fondled my cock. She was surprised at how big and thick it was and I wasn’t fully hard yet.

She pulled it and started kissing and licking it. She closed her soft lips around the head and slid her tongue from side to side, and then she started going down, down further, and down some more until she’d consumed almost the full length of my shaft. My cock grew to full erection inside her mouth.

She pulled it out, kissed it, and resumed slurping the bulky meat stick.

“Yeah. Yeah, oh, suck that,” I moaned. I closed my eyes and leaned back and let her have her way with it. The air was filled with the sounds of her lips smacking on my cock.

When I opened them I noticed the pictures on the entertainment center. None of them were pictures of Lydia.

That’s when it all made sense. This wasn’t her house. She had borrowed a friend’s house to fuck me away from home. But why?

I felt a tugging on my pants. I looked down. Lydia had her lips pressed firmly on my cock.

Still licking around the head and kissing it, she said, “Let me help you get out of these pants.”

Both hands were wrapped around the bottom of my dick. There were tan lines around her left ring finger. She was married. No wonder she didn’t want to fuck at home.

I lifted my pelvis off the couch as she pulled my pants to the floor.

Now I could open my legs wider and give her better access to my cock. She took my prick whole to the back of her mouth and pulled it out with a loud pop.

“Oh, yeah.”

“More comfortable?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah.”

We went on like this for minutes with her deep-throating me, kissing all around my cock, slurping my balls, and stroking pre-cum out of my cock so she could savor its flavor.

When she was done, my whole pelvic area was soaked in her saliva and my cock was jumping like crazy.

She stood up and turned around. She bent over reaching between her legs for my dick. She started stroking it up and down, keeping it rock hard as I stared at her beautiful ass and the pussy lips that decorated the middle of it.

She rubbed the head along the lips. It was hot like an oven, and very tight, yet the head slipped in and out without a problem.

Lydia was teasing me, making me want her more by the sight, sound, and feel of my cock head slipping around and about on her wet cunt.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, she let it slip inside. It was an easier entry than I’m used to. Lydia’s pussy adjusted quickly to accommodate my girth, which was remarkable considering she was holding her legs pressed close together, which made her hole seem that much tighter.

She kept easing back on my hard prick until I felt her ass cheeks touch my hips. My cock was throbbing inside her. I don’t know if she could feel it, but it was driving me nuts with the desire to cum in her pussy.

She started moving. It was an in-and-out motion at first, and then she started grinding from side to side, enjoying the pleasurable width of my eager cock.

“It’s so good,” I said. “Yeah, ride my cock. Ride it. Ride that pussy on my cock.”

She started bouncing and grinding more aggressively. Soon, we were both moaning in ecstasy.

“You’re so tight!” I grabbed a handful of ass and aided in bouncing her wet pussy on my hard dick.

My balls started tightening and I prepared myself for what I thought would be the best orgasm of my life. But just as I was reaching my peak, she stood up and my cock fell out with loads of shiny pussy juice covering its entire length.

Lydia lay on the other couch and opened her legs wide, then parted her sweet pussy lips and waited for me come plug her pink hole.

She was gorgeous and so erotic lying there in such a compromising position. She started fingering her clit as I entered her. She kept staring at me like I was a piece of meat and I couldn’t get enough of it.

Her pussy felt good with her on her back but I liked it better when she was riding me backwards on the couch. As tight as her cunt was now, it seemed much tighter before. Then I figured out why.

“Pull those legs back for me, baby,” I ordered.

Both legs went skyward, straightened out, and touched at the ankle.

The space in her hole decreased by half and I could feel the walls squeezing firmly against my meat.

I started easing in and out of her once more. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Lydia’s moaning kept getting louder as she mirrored my movements. Her toes curled up and I knew she must be having an orgasm.

“Ooh, yeah,” she whispered through heavy breathing as hot pussy juice spilled all over my hard cock. “Some more…I wanna leak some more,” she moaned.

She had no idea how sexy she looked cumming all over my cock right now.

I could feel an orgasm growing inside me. I started fucking her snatch harder, my hips smacking her tender ass.

“You’re just making me wetter. Yeah, yeah,” she cried out.

“You’re gonna make me cum, baby.”

“All over my face.”

The thought of cumming all over this married slut’s face was all that was needed to bring me over the edge. Cum started welling inside my balls in a tension-filled moment as I continued pounding Lydia’s sweet muff.

“I want to taste it,” she said.

That was it! Hot Damn!

“Come here,” I said.

She brought her head around and licked at my shaft as she stroked it.

I could feel cum making its way up my rod. My eyes grew wide open so I could take in every erotic second of what was about to happen.

Lydia grabbed it with both hands and started stroking harder as white spoo splattered all over her eyes, face, and mouth. Her face twisted into an expression that resembled a lunatic as she eagerly milked me of every drop of cock juice.

She gave me a wicked smile and started kissing my sensitive cock head and used it to smear cum all around her lips.

She looked up at me. I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I just thanked her.

“You’re welcome,” she said in that sexy whisper of hers.

I told her she could call me anytime, but she was already planning on calling me the next time she needed her “leak” fixed.

Copyright 2005 http://www.DramaSex.com">http://refer.ccbill.com/cgi-bin/clicks.cgi?CA=923263-0000&PA=1081791">http://www.DramaSex.com All Rights reserved.

They finally left and arrived at the bar/club. They went in to find a bustling environment, full of people chatting while music played at just the right level to hear it but not to drown out conversations.

They sat at a table and were drinking steadily for just under 2 hours, before each scanned the room for people they wanted to approach with their proposition. After much discussion and occasional arguing they were left sat alone until almost closing time when one of the barmaids came over to offer them one last drink.

With only the barmaid left as company, Keith and Linda decided to sit at the bar talking to her. They found out she was called Tanya, and she lived a little outside of town but was still very friendly and seemed equally as open minded as they were. Tanya was dark haired, a little shorter than Linda but with a slighty bigger chest of a 36D.

They discussed their situation about not finding the right person to join them when Tanya suggested to Linda that she give in and let him have another woman, and that she was free after finishing cleaning and locking up if they were interested.

Keith and Linda talked quielty to each other, agreeing it was a tempting offer, and Keith was more than happy to pay for them all to get a taxi to Tanya's place, he was after all about to get to have sex with two beautiful women.

After sharing a taxi to Tanya's place, they sat in her lounge area while their host brought more wine. They drank another bottle before Tanya asked Linda ot join her in getting into something more comfortable. They left Keith to get his mind racing at the thought of these two ladies stood together in lingerie.

Neither lady watched each other change, but admired each other after they had done so. They called Keith up as they both lay provocativly on the bed. He walked into the room to the best sight of his life, as they both stood and started to strip him down to his boxers.

As well as rubbing him all over, they were rubbing each others breasts and softly squeezing. Seeing them both doing this made Keith start to harden, as both Linda and Tanya looked down and smiled at his cock poking throught the gap in his underwear.

Keith laid his wife on the bed as he slipped off her panties and began to lick at her pussy, nibbling her clit occasionally. Tanya took off Linda's bra and began to play with her nipples, heightening Linda's pleasure as she gasped and sighed.

Tanya removed her own bra before moving around the bed to get in position to gently stroke Keith's member. She removed his boxers and began to wank him slowly. His cock was now fully erect at 7 inches and she licked at the head tasting his pre cum, while he continued to eat his wife's cunt.

After getting his wife to climax he stopped to take full pleasure from his cock now being greedily sucked by Tanya, easily taking all 7 inches into her mouth. Linda watched her man struggling to hold back his own orgasm, until he could no longer take it and shot his hot cum down Tanya's throat.

She pulled away licking her lips and complementing Linda on her husband's cock. She also told the couple that they should know something before they continued. Both looked on puzzled until Tanya explained the easiest way possible. She removed her panties slowly, as she did so her 9 inch cock sprang to life, released from its confines. Both Keith and Linda were shocked, confused, but equally excited.

Acting on one of his old fantasies, Keith moved forward and kissed Tanya softly letting her know it was ok. He moved down her body, kissing her breasts and upon reaching the cock, took its head into his mouth. He had never given a blowjob before but he tried immitating what his wife does and what Tanya had just done for him.

He knew he was doing fine, although struggling to get more than 5 inches into his mouth, when Tanya grabbed the back of his head and gently eased him further onto her cock. Linda lost some of her shyness, due to the amount of booze that had flowed before, and started to kiss Tanya and caress her ample busom.

Unable to take the pleasure Tanya pushed Keith's head even further onto her cock as she exploded into his mouth. He swallowed to arouse his curiosity and found that he didnt hate it. Keith turned to his wife only to see her continuing to kiss and fondle Tanya. He watched as his wife played with her own pussy with one hand while stroking Tanya's penis with the other.

Upon getting hard, Tanya moved Linda onto all fours and pressed her cock at the entrance of her dripping wet cunt. She slid in with ease and built up a steady rythym as Linda enjoyed every second, moaning loudly. Keith moved round to his wife's mouth and positioned his cock infront of her face as she greedily snatched at it and began to suck.

Linda continued to be fucked while sucking her husbands cock for some time before Tanya withdrew and joined Keith in front of Linda. Tanya instructed Linda to stop with her husband  lay down on the bed flat and finger fuck herself. As Linda followed the instructions, Tanya and Keith both tugged away at their raging boners.

Within minutes Tanya shot her load onto Linda's face and tits, shooting stream after stream of warm jizz. Seeing such a massive load, Keith couldn't hold his and also coated his wife in his own love juice.

As Tanya helped clean Linda up, she asked her about her submissive-ness and questioned f she ever wanted to be in charge. Linda agreed tha she had thought about it at times but it can sometimes be hard for a woman to be the dominant one without the use of bondage.

Tanya explained she had an idea and to go along with it.

They both re-joined Keith at the bed and resumed kissing and stroking each others naked bodies. Tanya suggested it was Keith's turn to get some action, as his face lit up with joy, thinking it was his turn for his wife's pussy or maybe her back passage, until Tanya reached into a draw and withdrew an 8 inch strap-on. She gave it to Linda and told Keith to get on all fours like his wife had done.

He did as he was told as Tanya began to lube up his asshole. Linda was ready as Tanya finished lubing up Keith and helped Linda guide the strap-on into his tiny wet hole. He let out a cry of pain at first as his wife slid the fake cock into him, but when the pain subsided he got used to it and found he was enjoying the sensation.

Tanya got up and began to stroke her long hard cock again, watching Linda take a more dominant role as she fucked her husband ass. Tanya offered her cock to Keith's mouth and he accepted willingly. His wife was definately enjoying herself as she began talking dirty, getting into her role as th dominant one, calling her husband her bitch and asking him if he  liked it.

Tanya got very aroused by Linda's new found dominant attitude and began to erupt as her hot cum shot down Keith's throat for the second time tonight. As he hungrily lapped up any excess cum off her cock, his wife continued pounding his asshole, whilst now reaching round and wanking his cock. It didn't take long for him to shoot his load from the intense pleasure of a hand job and being fucked.

His wife removed the fake cock from his ass and the three of them collapsed into a heap, panting and laughing at the fun they were all having, until finally they slept for hours.

In the morning, Keith woke last to find his wife using the strap-on to fuck Tanya from behind. His cock instantly sprang to life as he thought to himself, here we go again....

Comments and views welcome to:

drty20@hotmail.co.uk

She opened her eyes and smiled at Jonathan enjoying the feel of his hand between her thighs. She wanted to feel him inside of her again but first she wanted to taste him. She rolled Jonathan over and straddled him. She could feel his hard cock throbbing against her still moist pussy. She began to kiss Jonathan on the neck just behind the ear. Jonathan released a gentle sigh. Slowly, taking her time she moved down Jonathan's body kissing and nibbling until she got to the prize that she wanted. She braced her arms on either side of Jonathan as she knelt on the bed between his legs. His cock was fully hard and she knew that it was screaming at her to just kiss it. She leaned over and gently kissed the tip. Jonathan's cock jumped at the touch and she smiled. She rained gentle kisses up and down the shaft of Jonathan's cock enjoying the sounds of pleasure escaping from Jonathan's lips.

She nudged Jonathan's cock into an upright position with her mouth and took him in all the way to the back of her throat. Jonathan groaned excitedly at the swift and smooth way she took him in. He looked down at her head and loved the contrast of her brown skin against his lighter wheat colored skin. He'd been with Black women before but this one was blowing his mind. No, she wasn't the most beautiful woman, but the way she looked up at him as she sucked on his cock made him want to drown in those deep chocolate brown eyes of hers. In Jonathan's mind, she was the cutest, sexiest woman he'd ever had the pleasure of being with. Jonathan braced himself up on his elbows so that he could get a better view of what she was doing to him. She began to play with the spit that had worked up on Jonathan's cock and Jonathan could feel himself about to explode at the sight of the spit trailing from her mouth to his cock. He didn't want it to be over yet, so he stopped her and pulled her up to him. He grabbed her legs and wrapped them around his back as he sat in the middle of the bed. He kissed her passionately wanting to express to her the only way he knew how, how she had just made him feel.

She began to grind on his cock allowing Jonathan to feel her juices mix with her spit and Jonathan swiftly rolled her over onto her knees. He knelt behind her and looked at her nice, thick ass facing him in the air. She had some junk in the trunk and Jonathan couldn't help but give one of her butt cheeks a light swat. She giggled at his playfulness. Finally, Jonathan reached over the side of the bed to find his pants and rummaged around in his pants pocket and found what he was looking for. He sheathed his rock hard cock with the condom and slowly entered her juicy waiting pussy from behind. Gawd!! She was tight. Her pussy felt as if it had a vice grip on his cock and it was hard for Jonathan not to just lose all sanity and explode right then and there. He didn't want the sensation to end and he wanted her to really enjoy herself. He gently shoved her down onto the bed and lay on her back so that he could whisper in her ear as he gently pumped his cock into her pussy. He whispered how good she felt and how he never wanted to stop. He whispered how incredibly sexy she was to him. He whispered that he would make her feel things she never felt before.

Never having had a man communicate with her during sex, drove her wild. She immediately came and Jonathan couldn't believe how wet she had gotten from just a few words and some well placed strokes. She gripped the sheets and began to buck up against Jonathan wanting to take him in as deep as he could go. Jonathan wasn't ready to cum yet and he knew if he continued to allow her to buck up against him with her tight, wet, and now throbbing pussy, he wouldn't be able to resist. He pulled out and she groaned in dissatisfaction. He smiled down at her and rolled her over. He looked down into her passion filled eyes and knew at that moment that he would make love to this woman whenever and wherever. He was hooked!

He put her legs up on his shoulders marveling at how limber she was to be such a healthy woman. He rubbed his hands down her thick thighs as she reached down, gripped his cock and placed him back inside of her looking into his eyes the whole time. He slipped in easily and she grabbed his ass and silently pleaded for him to continue to give her the pleasure she never knew she could feel. He leaned down on top of her as she raised her legs back and opened herself up wide to him. He sank into the passion and began to thrust his cock into her in long, hard strokes. She scratched his back and demanded he fuck her harder. He complied. She pleaded that he fuck her even harder and faster. Jonathan began pumping his dick into her pussy with everything he had. They were flying as they both exploded simultaneously, violently shaking with the intensity of their orgasms. As they came back down to earth, they looked into each others eyes and smiled a smile to each other that just confirmed their new discreet relationship.

 Now stopped for this reason,I could hear a tractor somewhere in the distance and knowhere to be seen. A short while before two girls obviously local,cycled past going in the other direction. I say local because they had just dresses on and these were riding up their thighs revealing all,right up to their panties. That was enough for my bad boy to demand attention. So having started to feel the coldness of my cock,I was interupted by the sound of this tractor coming now along the metalled road. I thought,good when he's passed,I'll have my wank. But he didn't pass,well not straight away. Swinging in a bit to where the gate was,the farm hand jumped down and with diesel thumping away,went to the large backwheel as he nodded at me with a grin and flipping his fly open pulled out a sizable piece of man meat and started pissing.

 I'm sure I didn't give any signs of interest,- yes I'd looked at this cock as one might, but no more than that and I'd estimated on reflection,the farmhand was about 34/35ish. His physic was muscular typical of a country manual worker. Now looking back over the gate I was at,his voice was nearer and he said, "fuck I was busting for that. What you up to then,looking for summat to nick?" - I realised he still had his cock out in his hand, - "N-O, I was admiring the view" As I uttered this I could have bit my tongue off. I meant the scenic view,but the connotation could have meant his dick.

 In an instant,he'd closed in behind me and with a muscular arm down over my shoulder and his calassed hand on my stomach, - "Me too and I like what I see" I trembled with fear and trepidation as his other hand pulled at my waistband in an effort to pull my shorts off my ass cheeks, "Come on don't fight me,a lovely blue eyed blond,I bet I'm not your first" - "FUCK OFF! will you,I'm not into what you're after" - I was totally innocent at this time but he'd already made it clear where he was at. His knob was hard against my now uncovered ass cheek and his fingers were fingering my ass groove. "Bullshit,you've even greased it up in case you find a hard one. Well you have"

 Twist and wriggle as I might,with his stiffy pressing at my sphincter,there was no way I'd save my virginity from this brutal hardon cock waving country bastard. By now my shorts were off my waist and down by my ankles and his hand much to my surprise was wrapped around my hardon. In my struggling I'd lost sight of the hardon I'd created with a view to having my wank. My sphincter was no match for this country cock as it pushed me open. Surprisingly I expected to find great pain as he opened my ass,but no,after the spongy head had opened me to what felt like an enormous size the shaft pressed ever deeper up me and before I knew it he had my cock in both hands as leverage and started pumping at me with gusto until with ever greater grunts I heard his first gasp against my ear as his first shot of sperm launched itself deep inside my rectum. He was riding me good and it was all up hill as he pressed me against the gate.

 "Fuck,you're fucking tight" with deminishing shorter thrusts I felt every squirt of his cum as it spewed up inside my asshole. Then he pulled out. Grabbed at the edge of my shirt,using it to wipe his cock off. "Fuck I needed that,see you around kid" With his deminishing hardon placed back in his trousers he climbed back up into the tractor and pissed off. Surprisingly on checking my shirt,it showed signs of wetness,but that was all. I felt my asshole and I could feel spunk dribbling out,so I decided to strain a bit to remove it if I could. It worked,then still with disbelief I started to have my delayed wank,thinking as I did how sensational his cock felt pulsing and thrusting in my ass. I tell you,what ever that cock done I don't know, but I shot off the most astounding amount of sperm,it was at least twice my normal amount of cum,in fact probably three times as much and my orgasm was horrendous.

 Bye.

that night i was wearing a light blue halter and my fav jean mini skirt. i put my feet in my in the waterand spashed my feet around.

" what are you doing all the way back at the water."

"holly shit mark what are you trying to do kill me me." i said well tring to grab my bearth.

" well i saw you and thought i see what you were doing out here."

i looked at the ground i felled like i was going to fall. my arm were covered with gosse bumps.

"you look cold, well i don't have a coat so." he put his arms around me. he smelled so good like he had just gotten out of a shower. i was in front of him look out to the beach. then something hit me. it was like a little tap.

" what was that? " i asked. i didn't have any idea what it was.

" umm well it is my dick."he look at me like he didn't know what to do know what to do.

i looked at him. " ca- can i see it. please." i some what begged.

" umm ok but don't tell ok, but also you have to do something for me ok." he look at me.

" yeah i'll do whatever you want." i told him as i moved hair out of my eyes.

" ok, cool" he said.

so i got down on my knees as he pulled down  his pants. once his pants were down he pulled down his pants he pulled down his boxer's. " wow it is so big" i said. he laught at me. "well have you ever seen a dick be sor mine" he asked me. i look at the sand, i hadn't seen one befor his's. "ohh it ok. i mean your 13. well you have seen my dick now it is time you pay me back."

" ok what do you want me to do?"

I had brought my video camera and playstation for this visit, because gramma didn't have cable or a computer.

"Jeff, make sure you lock the doors when you go to bed", gramma said on my fourth night there.  It was nearly 11:00, and I was into a new video game and wide awake.

"Okay gramma, you want me to turn down the game?"

"Oh yes dear, that would be nice, but it shouldn't bother me if you don't".

I left the volume where it was for the next hour, and by midnight became tired.  Turning the game off, I heard a gurgled grunting noise coming from upstairs.  Fearing gramma was having a medical problem, I ran 2 steps at a time to get to her room.  I skidded to a stop a foot from her door at what I saw.  There was a guy not much older than me kneeling at the foot of grammas bed.  Gramma was naked and had her ass at the edge of the bed, her legs spread wide.  The kid was licking grammas pussy while he was thrusting four fingers into her hairy wet cunt.

"Ohhhhh God Jerrrrrrrry!" gramma said in a low gargly voice.

I ran to get my camera.  I sat across the hall with a great view of the action.  I finally realized that the young stud was grammas grocery delivery guy Jerry.  Jerry is 22 years old with what appears to be a 10 inch cock.

"We have to be quiet, my grandson's here", gramma said as she scooted up and rolled over on her stomach.

"Fuck me Jerry!!!!  Peg needs your cock deep in my ass".

At that Jerry took his enormous hard on and shoved it in one thrust into grammas relaxed and well stretched ass hole. 

"Ohhhhh Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitttttt, I'm gonnnnnnnnna cummmmmm", was silently exclaimed while gramma clutched the bed spread and slammed her ass hard into Jerry with each of his thrusts.  Jerry's ass clenched as he shot his first load into my grammas hole.  Both of their orgasms seemed to last a long time as gramma would continue to push herself back on Jerry's shaft, not allowing him to move from behind her.

"Daaaaaamn Peg, I can't stay like this forever", was all Jerry could get out as his body gave way and he fell onto my collapsing grammas back.

I quickly got up and ran to my room.  I checked the video I had taken, and watched it over and over during my stay, stroking my cock each time I watched.  As soon as I was able, I knew what I would do with the tape, and what I want to do with gramma! 

That is a story for another time.

I just looked down at her and nodded. She said, “Now drop your pants and sit down”.

I did as ordered by this little 13-year-old mistress. She walked over to where I was sitting and took my cock in her hands. I immediately started growing at her touch. She started stroking my cock slowly but with a firm grip. I got hard and was oozing pre-cum when I leaned back and closed my eyes. She reached up and slapped me and said,

“Open your eyes and look at me.

You’re going to watch every stroke”. She started stroking faster and faster. Her tiny hands were a blur as I felt the pressure building in my balls. I was so close when she stopped.

She said, “Oh no, not yet”. She told me to lay on the floor on my back. I did as she commanded then watched wide eyed as she stripped off her pants and panties. She had the most beautiful tiny hairless cunt I had ever seen. She stood over me straddling my head with one foot on either side while I just stared up at her little pussy. Just then she let go a stream of piss right in my face. It hit me in the mouth before I could close it and close my eyes as she pissed on me.

My cock was ready to explode on its own. She turned around to show me the most perfect round ass I have ever seen. It was flawless. She squatted down over my face putting that perfect ass right on my mouth. She ordered me to lick her ass hole. I guess she didn’t realize I didn’t need any encouragement as I stuck my tongue out to taste her wonderful ass hole. I started licking and sucking for all I was worth. I felt her start grinding her ass down on my mouth and heard her moan quietly.

I started to reach up to her tits when she smacked my cock really hard. She told me not to move just keep licking her ass. My cock was standing up rock hard and ready to explode.. She started moving her hips more and moaning. She was getting close to coming. Then she really pushed her ass down on my face and started yelling,

“Oh my god I’m going to cum. Eat my ass pervert, eat it all up.”. Then she stiffened and actually had a great squirting orgasm. Her cum shot across my stomach and hit my cock. When I felt that that was enough. My cock shot off with the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever had. The first shot must have gone 6 feet straight up, followed by at least a dozen weaker shots.

I was exhausted and totally spent. She just sat there on my face catching her breath. When she finally got up she started putting her pants on but handed me her little panties. She said, “This is your reward for doing a great job”. With that she smiled and said, “See you tomorrow”. As she left I couldn’t help thinking, I’m being dominated and controlled by a beautiful 13-year-old girl that just gave me the most incredible orgasm of my life. I couldn’t help but smile and wonder what “punishment” I would receive tomorrow.

Part 3 coming soon

 

Malcolm was a middle manager in a small business in a large city.  Malcolm led a pretty boring life; he in his forties, single, devoted to his work, he liked to keep himself fit, all of his family lived interstate except for his older sister who lived nearby, and he led a quiet social life.  Malcolm had a few girlfriends over the years but never anything serious; he kept himself to himself and rarely socialised outside of a small circle of colleagues and close friends he had cultivated over the years.  Malcolm was boring really; but he one closely guarded secret.  Malcolm was a crossdresser.

 

Once or twice a week Malcolm liked to lock all the doors of his modest two-bedroom suburban home, close all of the blinds, take the phone off the hook, and dress like a woman.  It had started as nothing really serious; as a child he had liked to play with his older sister’s panties and nylons; he loved the feel of the garments against his skin and occasionally he would wear his sister’s underwear for an hour or two and then carefully place it back in the laundry basket.  His fetish continued into his teens and when he finally left home and got a place of his own be bought his own panties, stockings and pantyhose and would spend the odd evening dressed in the silky articles.

 

Malcolm enjoyed his fetish alone and never talked about it to anyone, not even to whoever his current girlfriend might be at the time.  Every now and again he was successful in talking a girlfriend into wearing stockings or pantyhose during sex and he loved the sensation of fucking her as she wrapped her nylon encased legs around his body; but it was not the same as wearing them himself.  After a few years he also added petticoats, slips, suspender belts and other lingerie to his collection.  Then the internet explosion happened.

 

Like most men Malcolm went searching for pornography on the net and concentrated on searching for sites which contained lingerie and hosiery fetish.  Then one day he typed “men in pantyhose” into his web-browser and as he explored the matches to his search he came across a few sites dedicated to crossdressing.  He followed the links further and further into the cyber-world of crossdressing and he was fascinated by it.  He saw so many pictures of guys dressed not only in lingerie but fully dressed as women; wearing women’s clothes, shoes, wigs and makeup.  He became hooked.

 

Eventually he summoned up enough courage to acquire some clothes, makeup, shoes and a couple of wigs.  He would buy the items whilst he was away on business; never in his home town; he was terrified of being caught.  And so Malcolm went on year after year, dressing up once or twice a week, home alone and surfing the net where he entered chatrooms to chat on line with other closet crossdressers about all sorts of TG issues.  He soon discovered that the world of the Transgendered was often confusing and mostly secretive.  A few of the girls he chatted with on line were Transsexuals and wanted to live their lives as women.  Some Crossdressers dressed so well that they could pass as women but were not at all interested in becoming women; they just loved to dress as women and sometimes they got together.  They called themselves Transvestites and some of them met up to share their experiences or just to be in each other’s company; some of them belonged to an organisation called the Seahorse Club.  Other Transvestites met up to have sex with each other or with men. He discovered that the men who liked to have sex with Transvestites were called Admirers and they trolled the chatrooms and websites looking to arrange meetings.  But most of his online friends were like him; for reasons many and varied, all they wanted to do, or most often all they could do, was to dress up at home and enjoy what they could of their fetish, alone or in the cold world of cyberspace.  A lot of them were married men who kept their crossdressing activities secret or ‘in the closet’ as the colloquial term was known. 

 

Yes it was a very exciting but confusing world out there in TG land and up until now Malcolm was content with his lot; he never dreamed of going out dressed as a woman and even though he sometimes fantasised about meeting other Crossdressers or Admirers he was too scared to do so.  Malcolm was just too terrified of being caught; he was horrified of what the consequences might be if his colleagues and friends; or even worse his if his family found out about his secret.  A couple of times he had summoned up the courage to wear pantyhose and panties to work under his male attire and even though it had thrilled him he had one bad incident which had scared him from ever doing that ever again.

 

Malcolm got on with everybody, especially everyone at work; he was friendly, cheerful, a good listener and worked hard.  But there was one person there who just didn’t like him.  The guy’s name was Eddie and he was the office jerk.  If there was an office prank or someone was the butt of a practical joke, then you could pretty much guarantee that Eddie was behind it.  He was annoying, but harmless enough and very productive; the bosses liked Eddie and turned a blind eye to his misgivings because he earned well for the company.  In fact the only other manager whose department earned more than Eddie’s was Malcolm’s; maybe that’s why Eddie was particularly vindictive to Malcolm with his petty practical jokes.  Malcolm mostly ignored Eddie’s jokes and snide comments but one day he let his guard down and paid a hefty price.

One day Malcolm had gone to work one day wearing black sheer to the waist pantyhose and pink nylon panties under his business suit and was enjoying the thrill of being dressed that way secretly in public.  On the rare occasions he went to work wearing pantyhose and panties he was very careful to make sure that his secret was safe; if he had to go to the toilet he would use the cubicles that had full length doors and when seated at his desk he checked every few minutes to ensure that his shirt remained tucked in, in the unlikely event that the waistband of his pantyhose or panties might show.  This day he had to go pee and went to the men’s room and locked himself in the end stall, contented that he could lower his trousers and do his business without being caught dressed in panties and hose.  He hung his suit coat on the hook on the back of the cubicle door, lowered his pants and sat on the toilet seat with his panties and pantyhose bunched around his ankles.  What he didn’t know was that Eddie had followed Malcolm into the toilet to play a prank on him.  Malcolm never found out what the prank was; all he ever knew was that it somehow involved Eddie standing on the toilet in the stall next to his and looking over into Malcolm’s stall; maybe Eddie was going to throw a glass of water over  him or something equally inane. 

 

What did happen was that Malcolm heard snickering and looked up to see Eddies grinning face peering over the adjacent stall. Malcolm was horrified and just looked up slack jawed. Eddie just said,

 

 “Nice underwear sweet-cheeks,” and his face disappeared from view.

 

Malcolm spent the rest of the day, then the week, and then month in agony waiting for Eddie to torment him and ridicule him in front of his colleagues; he thought up ridiculous excuses as to why he might be dressed that way but the best he could come up with was that it was a bet; but with who?  As it turned out Eddie never said anything to anyone else; he just occasionally sidled up to Malcolm and whispered,

 

“Are you wearing them today?” winked and walked away.

 

Eventually Malcolm decided that Eddie was too scared to bring up what had happened because he would have to explain his own actions; spying on a man doing his business in a toilet stall.  Malcolm figured Eddie was content to just torment him occasionally with the question as to wether he was wearing female underwear to work.  Malcolm never wore female underwear to work after that; he remained content to just play dress-up at home.  Until one day………………

 

Every year on the anniversary of firm’s founding, the bosses paid out for a big party; it had become a tradition.  The party was fancy dress and it was held on the evening of the last working day before the Christmas break.  Over the years it had become customary for the party to have a theme; and the theme had a twist. The twist was that whatever the theme was, the women dressed in the male or dominant role and the men dressed in the feminine or submissive role.  One year it was ‘cops and robbers’; where the women came along dressed as policemen or prison warders and the men arrived dressed as criminals or prisoners (lots of horizontal striped shirts and black masks that year; like the Beagle Boys in the Scrooge McDuck comics).

 

One year had been ‘toffs and paupers’; lots of the women dressed in top hats and tails and the men dressed in the rags similar to the scallywags in Oliver Twist.  There had been ‘cowboys and Indians’ (girl cowboys, boy Indians); ‘heroes and villains’ (girl heroes, boy villains); and last year, the best yet, had been ‘knights and damsels’ with the girls dressed as knights, valets and lords of the realm, and the men dressed as medieval princesses and ladies of the court.  Everyone had a big laugh at that one, especially the men who had really got into the spirit of the thing with lots of them dressed up in drag in crinolines and ball gowns.  It was a big laugh for everyone.  Malcolm was tempted to dress up in his favourite lingerie, a ball gown, wig and makeup; but in the end had chickened out and came dressed as a court jester.

 

This year it was Malcolm’s turn to choose the theme because he had been voted the worst dressed at last year’s party.  The judging panel had decided that his court jester’s outfit was a copout on the theme and, as per tradition, the person voted worst dressed had to choose the theme for the following year.  It was considered a task not to be taken lightly; the more outrageous the theme the more acclaim it received; and the person who chose an interesting and outrageous theme became the most popular man in the company; for at least a few months anyway.  Malcolm had wrestled with the decision as to what the theme for this year’s party should be.  Malcolm being Malcolm, everyone expected something boring like ‘spacemen and aliens’ or some other safe subject matter, but they were all surprised and delighted when in late November Malcolm posted the theme for this year’s party on noticeboard. It was ‘Whores and Pimps’.

 

Of course Malcolm had his own secret agenda; for years now he had wanted to go out in public dressed as a woman.  Not like last year, dressed in a costume, but dressed in real women’s clothing, fully made up and feminised.  This was his big chance, and of course the more effort he made to be feminine the more he could justify it; after all, as the party’s organiser it was expected that he would endeavour to dress up as realistic as possible in keeping with the spirit of the theme.  The only concern he had was when he received an email from an anonymous address that simply said; ‘I might have guessed’, Malcolm was sure that Eddie had sent him the email but after a few days he pretty much forgotten about it.

 

Malcolm agonised for weeks as to how he could get away with dressing up as realistically as possible and to have a valid excuse as to why he looked so good dressed as a woman.  Last year the men who had dressed as ‘damsels’ had looked pretty ordinary; sure they had hired great costumes, crinoline ball gowns, tiaras, ladies slippers and so forth; but most of them had five o’clock shadow and their makeup was garish and clown-like, their wigs cheap and knotted poor facsimiles.   Then he had a brainwave; he would get his sister to dress him and make him up!  He could answer any questions as to why he looked so good dressed as a woman truthfully; “My sister dressed me and made me up,” and if anyone asked her, she would verify his claim.  She would be his unwilling alibi.

 

Malcolm hit the chat rooms in the days leading up to the big party and all his online friends encouraged him and offered advice; everything from “Don’t do it!” to “Go for it honey; stay out all night and pick up a nice man!”  Malcolm was a little perturbed about that last remark because sometimes, when he home alone dressed as a woman, he fantasised about what it would be like to be with a man whilst he was feminised.  He also hit lots of Transvestite web sites like TVChix, KTM, Crossdress World and so forth looking at pictures of Transvestites he admired to find the right ‘look’ for the party.  He wanted to look slutty but not trashy; sort of up market streetwalker.  He found a lot of girls in the UK and Europe had mastered the look he wanted capture; that dark haired beauty Lyn in the UK had the look; so did Janet Petteflet in Holland, Wendy Stockings in Scotland, and Cherry in Melbourne Australia.

 

Malcolm finally made up his mind as to how he wanted to look for the party; and then he had a dilemma that he hadn’t thought of before; one of his online girlfriends had asked him what fem name he was going to use.  When he was online he just used the handle ‘loves-to-dress’ and because he had only ever dressed alone he and had never talked to anyone in the real world about his transvestism, there had  never been a reason to have a fem name.  It would be easy to think up some trashy name to use at the party; everyone wore nametags at the party and they were usually the same absurd double entendres you heard on bad British comedies.  Names such as: ‘Sir Shagsalot,’ ‘Baron Ivor Bigun’ and ‘Princess Swallows’ had been some of the more ridiculous names used by partygoers last year.  He wanted a name that he could use at the party and that he could keep forever as his own secret name for when he crossdressed.  He thought about it for a few days and finally decided on a name.

 

He wanted a first name close to his male first name, but not so close that it was obvious; and his crossdressing had originally started out as a fetish for panties and hosiery; so the name came to him in an inspiration.  He played with the name Melanie for a while but decided that it was too close to his real male name.  He settled on Michele; Michele with one L, because it was a little bit different.  Malcolm decided his fem name would be Michele Nylons.

 

By the time the day of the party arrived Malcolm had made all of the many arrangements required of him as the organiser. The venue was the small function room of one of the cheaper city hotels, the catering, drinks and entertainment were part of the venue’s package; the firm paid for the party but they didn’t lend themselves to extravagance; after all the party was just really an excuse to dress up stupidly, get drunk and let off steam.  Also the firm’s thirty or so employees preferred the venue to be at one of the cheaper hotels because, as most of them and their partners got drunk at the party, they usually rented hotel rooms at the venue.

 

The previous weekend Malcolm had called his sister on Friday evening and explained to her about the party and his need to dress up as a whore for the theme; he then went on to clarify why he needed to look as realistic as possible because he was the host and organiser it was expected oh him, and begged her for her help.  He went on to say that he had some ideas as to how he wanted to look and that he had even got hold of some pictures off the internet to help him decide how he should look.  As he had no idea how to dress like a woman she would have to help him.  She eagerly agreed and was pleased that the normally quiet, reserved Malcolm was coming out of his shell for this event.  She told him to bring along the pictures on Saturday morning and they would go shopping for everything they needed so that Malcolm would look as whore-like as possible; it would be fun!

 

When Saturday arrived Malcolm met his sister Angie in the city outside of a large department store.  He had already figured out that he needed to behave naive when it came to world of women’s clothing and makeup; but he was determined to ensure he got exactly the look he wanted; he would have to be cunning that’s all.

 

“Hi Angie,” he said, and kissed her cheek when she arrived outside of Myer; one of the better stores in town.

“Hi Malcolm,” she responded.

“Let’s get you feminised then, you hussy,” she laughed, and Malcolm blushed; ‘If only she knew the truth,’ he thought.

“Come on; lingerie first,” she said enthusiastically and took his hand and led him into the store.

They made their way to the lingerie section of the store and started looking around.

“When you say you have to look as realistic as possible does that mean underwear too?” she asked.

“We can get away with some cheap foundation garments if you like; we can squeeze you into a cheap bra and you can just wear your own underwear under women’s clothing if you like?” she added.

Malcolm was horrified at the prospect.

“No; definitely not!” he enthused, “If we are going to make me look like a hooker, then lets go all the way; I want to win best dressed and who knows how good some of the other guys will look; it can be quite competitive you know and it might come down to who is wearing the best knickers!” he laughed, hoping he hadn’t gone to far and given his real motive away.

“Alright then; lets turn you into a complete slut,” Angie giggled, “This is going to be fun!”

“My boring, unadventurous, brother is really getting into the swing of things.  It’s about time!” she added.

Angie led Malcolm to the brassiere section of the lingerie department and he pleaded ignorance as she expounded the various virtues of the different types of brassieres.  They eventually settled on red satin full cup, size 14C.

“Red is definitely a whore’s colour,” she chuckled “and your panties should match; they usually have a matching panty for the better quality brassiere you know?”

“Do they really?” Malcolm responded feigning ignorance of such things.

“Here they are!” she quipped, delighted at having found the matching item on the rack of panties below the bras.

“Now I reckon any whore would love these,” she laughed, “here; what do you think?” she asked holding a pair of red satin bikini panties up for him to see.

“How the fuck would I know Angie? And do you have to hold the fucking things up for everyone to see they’re for me?” he pretended to be angry.

“Oh don’t be silly Malcolm; if anyone asks we just tell them the truth.  Besides you will have to try on some of the clothes anyway, at the moment I’m just guessing your sizes,” she responded.

“You mean women have different sizes to men?” he quizzed.  Malcolm knew exactly what size he was in women’s clothes and shoes but he couldn’t let on.

“Of course; at the moment I’m guessing your about a 14; a larger size for a woman even though you take a medium size in men’s clothing.”

“Ok,” Malcolm tried to sound befuddled but she had nailed his size in one guess.

“Now if you want to look like a real whore then we had better get you some stockings; we can get stay-ups or we can get the type that require garters or a suspender belt; what do you think?”

“Definitely suspender belt!”  Malcolm responded a little to eagerly.

Angie looked quizzically at her brother and he reddened.

“Angie; I’m a man so I have seen plenty of pictures of scantily clad women in my time and the sexy ones always wear suspenders and stockings,” he responded.

“Suspenders and stockings it is then,” she laughed.

“Oh I just love this one; and it matches the panties and bra,” she said, reaching for, and then holding up a red lace garter belt with six long red suspender straps hanging from it.

They wondered over to the hosiery section and began to browse.  Angie rummaged around and eventually held out a package to Malcolm.  ‘Sheer Fully-Fashioned Seamed Stockings by Kaiser” the label said.  A little clear window in the package displayed that the stocking were black.

“Perfect,” Angie said. “Whores always wear black stockings.”

“Mmmm,” she mused, “Show me your legs.”

“What?” Malcolm responded caught unaware by the request.

“Show me your legs stupid,” she repeated and reached down and pulled up one leg of Malcolm’s pants up to his knee.

“Just as I thought; hairy! That will never do!  Even though these stockings are black your hairy legs will show through; we’ll have to get you some pantyhose to wear under them,” she went on; dismissing Malcolm and rummaging again amongst the many packages of hosiery on the shelves.

“Just the thing!” She sounded delighted and flung another package at Malcolm.

This time the label said ‘Kolotex Sheer To The Waist High Sheen Pantyhose.’ ‘Colour – Taupe’.

“Jeeze, I didn’t realise it was so hard being a woman?” Malcolm laughed; again pretending ignorance but secretly pleased at all of the selections Angie had made so far.

“Ok buster; now comes the hard part; skirt and blouse.” Angie went on and led Malcolm further into the store.

“Didn’t you say you had some pictures?” Angie asked.

“Well I got these off the net,” Malcolm said. “Apparently the women in the photos are really men; Transvestites I think they are called.  They look realistic to me though.”

“Malcolm; you are the dark horse; I never dreamed you would know about such things!” Angie looked shocked as Malcolm handed her the pictures.

“Well I never did know anything about this until I had to organise this fucking theme party!” Malcolm pretended to be angry again.

“I just entered a few keywords into my browser and these are some of the pictures that it came up with.  And I’ll tell you what; some of the other pictures were actually pornographic.  Do you know there are some sickos out there that actually LIKE dressing as women?” he went on.

“Malcolm you have led a sheltered life haven’t you,” Angie answered but she was now too busy looking at skirts to carry the conversation on any further.

Angie looked at the pictures and looked at some skirts on a rack.  She poked around for a while selecting items and then putting them back. Finally,

“Yes; this is it!” she squealed.

Angie held out a black leather miniskirt looking extremely pleased with herself.

“It’s just like this one the girl; well man; well whatever; is wearing in this picture,” she said; pointing to a picture of Janet Petteflet which Malcolm had downloaded from KTMGirls. 

“Now for the awkward bit; you will have to try it on.”

Malcolm paled; he hadn’t though of that.  He knew that he was usually a size 14 in a skirt but also knew that sizes varied; he had a couple of 12s and even a 16 at home.

“It’s no good frowning and looking sorry for yourself.  If you are going to spend all this money to dress up for one stupid party we at least better make sure the clothes are going to fit you.” Angie scolded.

As it turned out it wasn’t that difficult.  Angie being Angie just went up to the floor supervisor and told her the truth; that Malcolm had to dress up in drag for a party.  The supervisor, an attractive woman in her fifties, was only too delighted to help.  She led them to a single fitting room that had a full length door that was separate to the rest of the female fitting rooms.

“We keep this room for special clients and the handicapped; It’s separate to the rest of the fitting rooms and very discreet.  Just find me when you have made your selections and I’ll see to you personally,” the floor supervisor smiled.

“Right; now a blouse!” Angie went on and charged on through the women’s clothing department to where there were what looked like thousands of blouses.

Malcolm was so glad that he had though of using his sister as a ruse; she seemed so enthusiastic and was actually having fun selecting clothes for him.  This was going a lot easier than he thought it would; he didn’t have to explain what he wanted at all; Angie was taking the lead and selecting just what he would have chosen to wear himself.

“Finally!” Angie exclaimed holding up her prize after what seemed like eternity as she waded through a sea of blouses and tops.

It was a sheer nylon leopard-skin patterned, longsleeved blouse and it was perfect to go with the black leather miniskirt.

“Right lets get you sorted brother of mine; go and wait by the fitting room.” Angie dictated and stormed off back towards the skirts.

A few minutes later Angie returned with the floor supervisor; her arms loaded with clothing.

“I’ve got the skirt and blouse in size fourteen and sixteen,” she said “Try them on in there and make sure they fit properly; can you do that?”

“I know,” she went on, “take this in with you and try to make sure you look as good as the girl in the photo,” she said, handing him the picture of Janet Petteflet.

Malcolm went into the booth knowing that the size 14 skirt would be perfect; and it was.  The size 14 blouse was too short in the sleeves and tight in the shoulders; the size 16 would have to do even though he would have preferred it to be tighter around the waist.  Malcolm came out of the fitting room and handed his selections to Angie and the others to the floor supervisor.  Angie wasted no time and dragged him over towards the footwear department.

“The fucking blouses button up the wrong way,” Malcolm whined; again pretending ignorance in the matter of female attire.

“No they don’t; men’s shirts button up the wrong fucking way, you lummox,” she quipped, and continued to drag him along by his sleeve.

When they got to the ladies footwear section it was blessedly easy.  Angie went straight to a pair of black, patent leather, high heeled sandals. Malcolm made a stupid gaffe as Angie looked at a size chart,

“Size ten,” Malcolm said, not thinking of the consequences.

Angie spun around and looked him quizzically.  Malcolm blushed a deep red and stammered,

“I read somewhere that women’s sizes are two sizes smaller than men’s.  You know it’s one of those bits of useless information you pick up,” he offered as an explanation.

Angie continued to stare at him questioningly for a minute and then turned back to the rack of shoes and selected a pair of size tens.

“Here; try these,” she said handing him the high heels.

“There’s no one around, just try them on ok,” she warned before Malcolm could offer a protest.

Malcolm sat on a stool and removed his loafers and socks and tried them on; a perfect fit.

“Lovely! I’ll show you how to walk in them tomorrow Malcolm; you will find it difficult but no self respecting whore would wear anything except high heels,” she laughed, regaining her previous joviality.

“Accessories and makeup next!” Angie charged ahead again.

“Accessories? Makeup?” Malcolm quizzed.

“Oh just go to the in store coffee shop Malcolm and I’ll meet you there later,” she tried to feign anger but laughed.

Malcolm did as he was told and Angie joined him about twenty minutes later.  Sipping on a latte she showed him what she had acquired in his absence.  There was a slim gold belt with a silver buckle, a gold clutch purse, a selection of makeup (to which he showed absolute ignorance for sake of appearances), and what seemed to be far too much jewellery for one night’s dress-up.  They finished their coffee and took their selections to the checkout where thankfully Angie presented the purchases to the cashier and all Malcolm had to do was hand over the cash.

Angie again led the way and this time they stopped in hairdressing salon.  Angie explained that it was her favourite salon. And the best hairdresser in town worked there.

“I could take you to a fancy-dress store and rent something tacky or we could go to a novelty shop and get one of those awful novelty wigs but you did say you wanted to look as feminine as possible so I’m afraid you will have to fork out for something good.  On the bright side; if the wig looks good on me too I might buy it off you after the party,” she said.

Angie took charge of the situation and entered into a deep discussion with one of the hairdressers whilst Malcolm stood there with his hands full of shopping bags trying not to look embarrassed.  Eventually he was led into a small room at the back of the hairdressers where he was seated and introduced to Stephan, Angie’s hairdresser.  Angie and Stephen then seemed to have the time of their lives trying different wigs on Malcolm.  They finally both agreed on one, and Stephan held up a mirror so that Malcolm could see.  It was brunette with some lighter highlights; the hair was straight but curved slightly at the neck and fell to just on his shoulders; the fringe just covered his eyebrows.  It was lovely but of course Malcolm just said,

“Well if you think its ok we’ll take it” and paid up.  He made a fuss about the price, secretly pleased that the wig was perfect for the shape of his face.

Outside the hairdressers they parted ways; Malcolm was disappointed when Angie took all the purchases from him,

“It’s not as if you need them until next Friday is it? And as you are coming around my place to for me to dress you properly and make you up I might as well take them home,” she said cheerfully, kissing him on the cheek and walking off towards where her car was parked.

“Thanks for all the help,” Malcolm responded and walked away excited. He could hardly wait for next Friday.

All week the office was abuzz with talk of the party; many of the staff discussed how they were going to dress.  Some were just going to squeeze into their wives clothes; some had gone to costume-hire specialists.  The girls were having a great time rummaging out old flared purple pants, platform shoes and other outrageous seventies pimp apparel. Malcolm kept quiet despite the friendly ribbing that he copped from some of the staff; they joked that boring old Malcolm wouldn’t know a whore from a boar or that he would probably come looking more like a washer woman than a prostitute after last year’s feeble effort.  The only quip that disturbed him was an aside from Eddie,

“She’ll look gorgeous I’ll bet.”

Malcolm didn’t know if Eddie was joking or being sarcastic but he didn’t care; he was too excited and looking forward to the party for reasons that none of his colleagues could imagine; Michele was making her debut!

Friday afternoon finally came and Malcolm drove around to his sister’s place in eager anticipation.  The firm had finished work early and he had a few drinks after work with some of the staff and they had said cheery farewells until later that evening.  He arrived at Angie’s place as instructed at five o’clock having showered and shaved as close as possible ensuring his face was smooth and without a trace of stubble. He had a gin and tonic to steady his nerves before leaving home and Angie greeted him at the door with another.

“To help you relax dear brother,” she laughed and led him through the house into her bedroom.

Angie had unwrapped all of last week’s purchases and they were laid out on her bed; Malcolm get excited just looking at them and gulped down his drink. Angie went to fix him another.

“I’ve been thinking Malcolm; how serious are you about looking as feminine as possible?” she called from the lounge.

“I really want to win the prize Angie; I want to really make up for last year,” he shouted back.

Angie returned with a drink for both of them.

“Well there is only one thing for it then,” she said and reached into a draw in her dresser and held out a pink plastic object that looked like some sort of alien ray gun.

“It’s my Lady Shaver,” she responded to his quizzical look, “were shaving your legs ok?”

Malcolm was now a little drunk and laughed out loud,

“Well if that’s what it takes Angie; let’s do it!”

After a brief argument in which Angie explained that she had seen her younger brother naked when she bathed him as a child.  She also went on to explain that in her eyes seeing a man in his briefs was no different to seeing a man in his swimming costume so Malcolm stripped down to his briefs and sat on the chair in front of the dressing table.  Angie ran the shaver up and down his legs until they were hairless; this was achieved with much howling and complaining from Malcolm who was reminded by Angie that women had to suffer far worse to look good for men; as he was about to find out.  She shaved the hair off his feet and toes and examined her handy work.

“You’ll still have to wear the pantyhose I’m afraid; your legs are lily white and some of those varicose veins look like roadmaps. It’s a trick I used when I was younger when I couldn’t be bothered shaving my legs before a date; just wear two pairs of nylons,” Angie explained.

“You’re the boss,” Malcolm chuckled and took another sip of his drink.

“Ok; sit still, keep quiet and just do as I say and we’ll have you looking like a girl in no time,” Angie laughed and moved in front of him and went to work.

She had quite an assortment of cosmetics laid out on the dressing table along with various sized brushes, sponges and applicators.  Malcolm forced himself to relax and let Angie go to work.  He had made himself up hundreds of times before but now he was going to be made up by an expert so he payed attention to every detail so that he could pick up any pointers.

First Angie patiently painted his finger and toenails; two coats of glossy plumb red.  She told him not to smudge the nail polish before it hardened and went on to explain how women often tried to match their nail polish with their lipstick.

Angie applied a thick coat of foundation to his face and neck and then set it with a liberal dusting of matching face powder.  She then went to work on his eyes.  Next she brushed dark blue eyeshadow onto Malcolm’s eyelids working from the inner corner of each eye to the centre above her pupils. She worked the powder upwards right up to his eyebrows and then she applied a coat of lighter blue out to the far corners of his eyes, lightening the makeup as she worked it up to his brows and blending the two shades where they merged.

“I’m no expert at hooker makeup,” she said, “but I’ve seen enough movies to know that usually go for these garish colours.

“Whatever,” Malcolm said pretending to feign interest whilst paying close attention.

Angie tut-tutted a little and reached for some pink eyeshadow and applied it liberally around the edges of the two coats of blue that she had already applied; blending the eyeshadow with a small brush and making final adjustments with her fingertip.  Malcolm loved the effect and filed the snippet away for future use.

“Ok brother; keep very still now and just close your eyes half-closed for me; here comes the hard bit; the eyeliner.” She said, concentrating on her task.

Angie applied jet black eyeliner to his upper and lower eyelids as close to his lash-line as possible. She started in the very corner of her each eye and worked outwards applying three coats and touching up where necessary so that his eyes were framed by the black makeup.

“Open your eyes; lift your head up but look down at my tummy and keep still for me sweets ok; I’m going to do your mascara next.  I hope you are taking mental notes so that you can touch up your makeup during the evening.” Angie said.

“What do you mean; touch up my makeup?” he asked; knowing full well what she meant.

“We girls don’t stay looking good all night without touching up our war-paint you know” she giggled, “that’s why we spend so much time in the john; why do you think we call it the powder room!  I bought you some makeup yesterday that you can take with you tonight; you can give it to me later as you won’t be needing it,” she explained.

She applied plenty of thick black mascara to his upper and lower eyelashes; fiddling a little as she worked.  She explained that as his eyelashes were very fine she had to apply lots of the product to get a good effect,

“I wish we had bought falsies,” she muttered.

Malcolm laughed inside because he had three sets of false eyelashes at home.

“Ok nearly there,” she sighed and took a sip of her drink.

Angie applied blusher to his cheeks, feathering it along his cheek-line and smoothing it up so that it almost merged with his eyeshadow.  Then she dusted his whole face and neck with a coating of sheer-glow finishing powder, being careful not to smudge her mascara and eyeliner.

“Ok Malcolm I want you to play particular attention to how I do your lipstick; you will definitely have to touch up your lippy tonight,” she lectured.

She opened a long slim box that contained two slim tubes and unscrewed the first tube to reveal a slim applicator coated with plum coloured liquid lipstick.

“This is the first coat and it is long lasting colour; be careful how you use it honey because it is really hard to get it off if you fuck up ok?” she instructed, “so pay complete attention and when you touch it up tonight make sure you don’t go outside of the lip-line that I put on you.”

Malcolm had never used a two-coat lipstick before; he just used ordinary cheap lipstick at home and he paid very close attention as Angie coloured his lips with the first coat of colour and then took the other tube which she screwed at the bottom to reveal what looked more like the lippy he was used to, but slimmer and it was clear not coloured.  She waited a minute and then applied the clear top coat over the base colour coat.

“Perfect,” she whispered more to herself than him, “now leave your lips parted for a second until its dry ok?”

Angie took the brunette wig off the wig stand and brushed it out while Malcolm sat still and let his makeup set and lipstick dry.  After a minute or two Angie put the wig on his head and fiddled with it until it was sitting perfect with the fringe straight.  She brushed it here and there and then stood back to admire her work.

“You look stunning; take a look,” she said, pointing to the mirror.

 The transformation was astounding; from a plain, smooth-faced man he had become a heavily made-up middle-aged whore.  Her brunette fringe framed her dark exotic eyes and her bangs caressed her rouged cheeks and highlighted her luscious red mouth.  Malcolm now started to think of himself as Michele the whore; not as Malcolm, the boring manager of a small department in a small business.  ‘From now on, for the rest of tonight, I AM Michele!’ she convinced herself.

 

“Ok let’s get you dressed then,” Angie said.

 

“You can have a quick drink and get into your pantyhose and knickers you hussy,” she laughed, playfully kissing his cheek.

 

“I’ll step out and freshen our drinks while you do that I think; I don’t want to see your wiggly bits,” she laughed, “put the pantyhose on first then the panties over them ok?  You’ve seen one of your girlfriends put on pantyhose I take it? You don’t need my advice,” she joked; then added as she walked out the door, “don’t ladder the fucking things!”

Michele sat on the edge of Angie’s queen size bed and kicked off her men’s briefs; they now seemed ugly and inappropriate for a lovely whore like her. She eased the pantyhose from the slim packet and slipped the hosiery over her pretty painted toes and slid the sheer nylon up her feet one foot at a time.  She carefully eased the pantyhose up her legs keeping the nylon taught; smoothing out the wrinkles as she went.  She stood up and pulled the waistband of the pantyhose up over her crotch and smoothed the nylon gusset around her midriff to just below her bellybutton.  She slid the red satin bikini panties up her nyloned legs and pulled them snug around her arse and crotch. Michele felt the beginnings of an erection and nearly panicked; but then the though of her sister finding her aroused soon made it go away.

“Ready sis;” Michele called through the door.

“Oh lovely,” Angie joked as she came back into the bedroom with two more gin and tonics.

“Ok let’s get a move on, I don’t want you to be late for your own party,” she said in determined tone.

“Stand up and just do as I say buster,” she joked; but in a tone that bore no argument.

Angie took the red lace suspender belt and adjusted it so that it sat tightly around Michele’s waist and so that the top of garment covered the waistband of the pantyhose.  Next she knelt down and drew the diaphanous black nylon stockings up Michele’s legs one at a time; the stockings sighed their nylon on nylon whisper as they glided over her pantyhosed legs.  Angie carefully adjusted the back-seams so they lay straight and centred along the back of Michele’s legs and then clipped the garters hanging from the suspender-belt to the reinforced stocking tops.  As Angie smoothed the nylons along her legs Michele suppressed the shiver of excitement and felt a little uneasy about experiencing such emotions; especially with her sister’s face so close to her sex organs.  Michele swallowed and tried not to think too much into it. 

Next Angie hooked the brassiere around Michele’s chest and settled the cups into the right position; she walked over to a drawer and took out several pairs of old pantyhose which she stuffed into the cups of the bra to fill them.  Then she had Michele step into the black leather mini which she pulled at and played with until it was adjusted nicely at the waist and the hem was nice and straight at mid thigh; she left it unzipped for now.  Angie handed Michele the leopard-skin nylon blouse to put on while she went to the dresser and took a drink.  She gave Michele a sip of her own drink and put the glass down on the table.  Michele noticed that she had not left any lipstick on the rim of the glass as she often did when she was dressed at home. ‘That two-coat lipstick really works,’ she thought pretending to struggle with the buttons because they were on the opposite side to men’s shirts.  Angie came over and finished buttoning the blouse and tucked it into Michele’s skirt and zipped it up. She buckled the slim gold belt around Michele’s waist and adjusted it so that it sat nicely.

“Nearly there; just jewellery and shoes to go” she sighed.

Angie opened the packet which contained the cheap costume jewellery that she had bought for her brother last week. She clipped silver mounted ruby drops to Michele’s ears and hung a matching silver and ruby necklace around her neck and matching bracelets on both of her wrists.  She put on four large silver rings, two on the fingers of each hand; the rings were set with emeralds and rubies. 

Angie sat Michele back on the bed and slid her feet into the black leather high-heeled sandals; buckling the thin straps which came to just above Michele’s ankles. 

“Now for fuck sake be careful when you walk in these Malcolm,” Angie said; “ lean a little forward and make sure you come down on the balls of your feet first, not the heels, when you walk.  It will take some practice but it’s only for one night.  You should know what we girls have to put with when we wear those fucking death traps anyway,” she chided playfully.

Finally Angie fastened a silver anklet below Michele’s left ankle; another fake ruby glittered as it hung from the thin silver chain fastened to the anklet.

“You’re done honey; take a look in the mirror,” Angie said and helped Michele to her feet. Michele stood up and walked over to the mirror and looked at herself.

She looked stunning; the best she had ever looked dressed as a woman.  She had just the look she wanted; in her mind she decided the look was to be called ‘London streetwalker’ because she looked just like the English prostitutes she saw in the TV shows.  Michele walked over to her sister and kissed her on the cheek and said,

“Thanks Angie; you are a doll.  Oh! One more thing; pin this on for me will you?”

She handed Angie a large white name bar embossed with the firm’s logo in one corner and a Christmas tree in the other; in gold pen script in the centre of the name bar was written: MICHELE NYLONS.  Angie pinned the badge to Michele’s left breast.

“Michele Nylons; cute name,” Angie said.

“Ok Malcolm; err I mean Michele; lets do the last finishing touch.”

Angie went to her dresser and took a small green bottle of the cologne ‘Poison’ and sprayed a liberal amount of the perfume on Michele’s neck and décolletage; then she reached down and playfully sprayed under Michele’s skirt and on her thighs.

“Just in case you get lucky honey,” Angie teased.

Michele blushed a deep red,

“Fuck off Angie!” Michele responded a little hurt.

“Don’t be such a girl Malcolm; here take this,” she said dropping the small bottle of ‘Poison’ into the small gold clutch purse that they had purchased last Friday and holding it out.

“The purse has got powder, eyeshadow, mascara, eyeliner, blush, and lippy in there sweety; so you can touch up your makeup as you need to.  There’s also a hairbrush; everything an old whore needs to ply her trade,” she laughed.

Michele stepped forward and took the purse from her sister and bent to kiss her chastely on the lips to bid farewell.  Angie shocked Michele by pulling her into a tight embrace and kissing her, closed mouth but forcefully, on the lips; then Angie astonished Michele completely by sliding her hand under Michele’s skirt and gently stroking her manhood through her panties.  Angie whispered into Michele’s ear,

“I know about you, you know!”

Michele pushed her sister away and looking absolutely stunned; she gasped,

 

“What do you mean; you know!”

 

“Oh Malcolm; I mean Michele.  I’ve suspected since we were kids.  All the times I found my nylons and panties dishevelled and stained; who else could it have been?  One day I even saw you putting a pair of my pantyhose in your pocket as you left the bathroom.” Angie explained in a soothing voice.

 

“And last week you knew your ladies shoe size; you insisting on wearing a suspender belt; you had those pictures of Transvestites; and you pretended not know that blouses button on the opposite side to shirt.  You sat uncomplaining while I put on your makeup; but the real give away was the way you walk in those high heels honey.  It took me fucking months to master high heels when I was a teenager; and you glide around my bedroom like you were born wearing the fucking things!” Angie finished.

 

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of; your secret is safe with me.  And you look positively gorgeous; if you weren’t my brother I’d fuck your brains out; now get the fuck out here and go and enjoy yourself before I throw you on my bed and ravage you.” Angie pushed Michele towards the bedroom door.

 

Michele was stunned but accepted what she had just heard and realised that she had been stupid to think that she could get away with using her sister to help her crossdress and still keep her secret.  In hindsight Michele knew that she would slip up some how.  Then a question lanced into her head; ‘What did Angie mean about ravaging her? And what the fuck was that passionate kiss and quick fondle all about?’

 

“Angie; are you a lesbian or something?” Michele asked her sister as they walked to the front door.

 

“I’m an ‘or something’ ok; but that’s a conversation for another day; now get the fuck out of my house and party til you drop bitch! Oh; and come around for coffee tomorrow afternoon and tell me all about it!” she laughed and pushed Michele out of the door and into the night air.

 

Michele walked over to her car, stunned at what had just happened; even though she had lost count of the number of gin and tonics she had drunk over the last few hours she now felt completely sober.  She dropped in behind the wheel and her skirt rode up revealing her stocking tops; she smoothed down her skirt and slid her hands along her stockinged thighs and sighed with desire at the feel of her feminine attire.

 

Michele smiled to herself and drove off into the night trying to get her head around the last few minutes.  Eventually she settled down enough to realise that she had been particularly stupid drinking so much alcohol with a three quarter of an hour drive ahead of her from the suburbs to the city; the police were ruthless when it came to alcohol breath testing during the festive season.  She decided to use a little used back road that bypassed most of highway into town; it would put an extra twenty minutes or so onto her journey but she was better safe than sorry.

After she had driven a few kilometres down the dark road she realised that the effects of the drinks she had imbibed earlier had far from worn off; she had to really concentrate and to make matters worse she had never considered the difficulties of driving a car whilst wearing high heels.   Michele checked her mirrors and then reached down and attempted to unbuckle her right shoe so that she could better control the brake and accelerator.  It was a huge mistake; as she struggled with the buckle on her high heel her car swerved violently to the right and she had to correct the vehicle quite quickly on the dark narrow road.  As she gained control of the car and was congratulating herself for avoiding disaster she saw blue and red flashing lights in her rear vision mirror.

“Fuck!” she exclaimed, and pulled her car over into a darkened rest area at the side of the road. 

She followed the small dirt track to series of marked parking bays behind a darkened toilet block and pulled into one of the spaces; she looked around and saw that the rest area was deserted except for her own car and the police cruiser that had now pulled up beside her.  A fat policeman squeezed from behind the wheel of the police car, turned on a large black torch and sauntered over to her driver’s side window; Michele wound down the window terrified.  She didn’t know wether to be more worried about being out dressed up in drag or being over the prescribed alcohol limit.  The fat policeman shined his torch on her face, smiled and said,

“You were all over the road back there miss; have you been drinking?”

Michele summoned up all of her courage and answered,

“I had a couple of drinks an hour ago officer but I’m sure I’m under the limit; I swerved to avoid a small animal on the road,” she lied.

The policeman looked at her for a nearly a full minute shining his torch inside the car and up and down her body and back to her face.

“Jesus Christ you’re a fucking guy aren’t you?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes officer; let me explain…….” and Michele went on to explain that she was dressed in drag to attend a theme party at work.

After listening to her story for a few minute the officer cut her short.

“Well that may be sir, ma’am; whatever.  But I still think that you are under the influence of alcohol and I intend to issue you with a roadside breath test.” He said and waddled back to the cruiser and returned with an alcometer.

He pushed it through the window in front of Michele’s face and said,

“Put your lips on the tube and blow; words I’m sure you quite used to;” he added cruelly.

Michele did as she was told and heard the machine beep rapidly after a few seconds.  She hung her head and contemplated what would happen next.  She would be taken to the police station and have to suffer the indignity of waiting around for bail dressed up in drag.  Undoubtedly the policemen at the station would ridicule and taunt her.  Even worse; what if they put her in a holding cell?  She had read about what happened to some young men in prison at the hands of jailhouse thugs; what chance would she have dressed as she was?  Could she ask for protective custody?  Her head was spinning.

The Policeman took the machine away from Michele’s lips and looked at the reading and smirked.

“You’re shit out of luck tonight sweety,” the cop smiled evilly at Michele through the window.

He turned on his heels and wobbled back to his cruiser; ‘He’s calling it in or whatever they do!’ Michele thought to herself.  She was on the verge of sobbing.  She looked across at the police cruiser and by the light of the dome light she saw the fat cop leaning inside talking on the radio.  Then the flashing lights on the top of the police car went out, closely followed by the head and tail lights.  The cop slammed the door and the rest area became hauntingly dark and deathly silent.  Michele could just make out the dimmed glow of the policeman’s torch as he returned to her car; as he approached she saw he was shading the light with his other hand.  He leaned on the roof of her car and it lurched under his added weight.

“Look honey, I’ve dealt with your type before ok; you don’t do thirty years on the force without dealing with the occasional trannie now and then.  You are in all sorts of problems here; the reading on my little machine there says you’re at least twice the legal limit to be driving.”

“Now, we can sort this out one of two ways; you can accompany me to the police station, and I’m sure the ramifications of that option have crossed your pretty little mind; and also you will lose your license and cop a hefty fine.  Plus I’m betting someone who drives a car like this has a job where a DUI will not be particularly welcomed,” the fat cop droned on.

“Or I can get in the passenger seat there and we can settle this quickly, painlessly; and to both our advantages if you know what I mean?” he finished.

Michele was now totally confused; was there a way out of this?  Was he asking her for a bribe?  Thank god! There was a way out of this! All she had to do was let the cop get in passenger seat and she would hand him some cash and he would be gone.  Yes; it made sense!  He wanted to sit in the car so no one passing by could see her handing him the money; that’s why he turned off his flashers and headlights.

“Well sure officer; get in and let’s settle,” Michele sighed, relieved.

The fat cop had trouble squeezing into Michele’s small BMW but he finally got settled and closed the door.  The dome light went out and Michele heard a rasping sound that she couldn’t quite figure out.  ‘Of course he’s opening the zipper of his wallet to hide the money,’ she concluded.

“Turn on the dome light honey; I want to see you do it,” the cop said.

That made sense to Michele; he wanted to make sure he was giving her the right money; when you take bribes you have make sure the person paying the bribe isn’t ripping you off.  Michele turned the dome light on and turned her head towards the cop and started to say,

“How much?” when she glanced down and saw the policeman’s stubby fat penis sticking out the front of his uniform trousers.

“Well I won’t be long honey; I haven’t had any for ages,” the cop chuckled and reached out and pulled her head into his lap.

Michele was horrified; it finally dawned on her what he had been talking about all this time; she had completely misunderstood his intentions.  These thoughts sped through her mind just as her lips came into contact with the man’s fat smelly cock.  Michele sputtered and tried to move her head but the heavy cop held her down.

“Suck it good babe; come on,” he moaned; and he pushed down harder and Michele had no choice but to take the appendage into her mouth.

Michele sputtered and blubbered trying to spit the fetid member out of her mouth.  Her efforts to get away from the cop’s penis in fact stimulated the glans of his organ as Michele’s lips and tongue lashed at the stubby little cock trying to spit it out.  The cop pushed down so hard on her head that it hurt, and at the same time he pushed upwards, lifting his fat arse out of the seat; Michele had to open her mouth or choke and as she did the whole of the diminutive fat member slid inside her mouth and started to convulse and throb.

Michele gasped as a torrent of semen filled her mouth and then she started to gag.

“Don’t you spit it out bitch!” the cop warned, holding her head down in his lap.

“Yeah baby that’s it; swallow it; oh fuck you’re good! Suck it baby; suck it! I’m coming; oh yeah,” another stream of obscenities issued forth from the policeman as he ejaculated into Michele’s mouth.

Michele was helpless; held over the cop’s small throbbing cock as it continued to flood her mouth with sperm.  She had no choice; Michele swallowed.  The policeman’s secretions were not actually that foul; they tasted musty and creamy.  She sucked and swallowed knowing she had no choice.

“Ok baby; daddy’s finished now; just lick it clean and I’ll be on my way,” the cop chuckled.

Michele realised the worst was over; she licked the fetid member clean and swallowed the last of the cop’s secretions.  The cop lifted Michele’s head out of his lap and leaned over and kissed her full on the mouth before she had time to react.

“Thanks hun,” he whispered in Michele’s ear; then zipped his fly and struggled out of the passenger door.  He walked away towards his police car and waved over his shoulder without glancing back,

“Drive careful now sweetheart,” he shouted and climbed into the police car and drove away.

Michele sat there stunned; she couldn’t believe what had just happened; not only had that fat smelly, little dick cop raped her mouth; she was rock hard in her panties.  What the fuck was going on?

To be continued………………………………………

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I had very little social life, and when I got horny I would hang out in the bars of fine downtown hotels hoping to meet a successful business man, or at least have a one-nighter with one.

About a year ago, I was working late and decided to hit a bar and see if I could get lucky. I hadn’t been laid in almost two months and I was hornier than hell. I left the office a little after 8pm. It was late September and already getting dark. I got into my Honda Accord and cruised a few blocks to the Four Seasons. I found a place in the lot just a short walk from the hotel and shut off the car. I was checking my make-up in the mirror when a conversion van parked in the space next to mine. It was white with gold pinstripes and the windows were darkly tinted making it impossible to see inside. It was almost full dark now and nobody exited the van, making me nervous. I slid over to the passenger side and exited through the passenger door so my car was between me and the van. (Better safe than sorry) I looked at the van and detected no movement. I spun on my heels and half walked - half ran to the hotel.

I made my way to the bar and, damn the luck, it was almost totally void of customers. The only patrons in the place were two old codger business types who barely took the time to ogle. I sat at the bar and ordered a screwdriver. I told myself to take it easy as it looked like I would be driving home tonight. Maybe one more after this and then get something to eat. I hadn’t eaten since noon and I was famished.

I asked the bartender to turn on the news channel and removed my jacket and hung it on the back of my chair. About half way through my drink I noticed out of the corner of my eye that somebody else had entered the bar and was standing one seat away from me. He ordered a scotch on the rocks and told the bartender he would like to buy the young lady a drink if she would accept.

I heard him order and thought he might be drunk as his speech sounded slurred. The bartender stood in front of me and conveyed the man’s desire to buy me a drink. I accepted. When the bartender set my fresh drink before me I spun my stool around to thank my benefactor.

I drew in a sharp breath as I raised my glass to the stranger and our eyes met. He was a big man, about 6’4” tall with broad shoulders and a barrel chest. He was nicely dressed but he was hideous looking. His head was badly misshapen and bald reminding me of that character Shrek. His face was scarred on the right side causing the corner of his mouth to droop on that side. His right nostril was almost completely shut and his right eye was red and watery looking.

I was able to maintain my composure as I thanked him for the drink and then turned away from him to watch the news. After about ten minutes, I heard the stranger ask for another drink and offer to buy another one for me. I was only halfway done with my present drink and didn’t want to feel obligated to converse with this hideous creature, so I spun on my stool and told him I had to go after this one, holding up my half finished drink to show him I wasn’t ready for one anyway. I then excused myself and headed for the restroom area.

When I got into the ladies room I laughed quietly out loud. Imagine me and Shrek out there hooking up, I snickered to myself. What a Beauty and the Beast story that would make. I was warming to the liquor and didn’t really want to leave, but there was no way I was going to spend the evening talking to that ogre. I would drive closer to home and have a couple more drinks nearer to my apartment. I checked my make-up in the mirror and ran a brush through my hair. Perfect, I smiled to myself and exited the ladies room.

I went back to the bar and hurriedly finished my drink. I shrugged into my jacket, nodded to the stranger, and offered another mumbled thanks before exiting the bar. As I made my way through the hotel lobby my head started to swim. I must have drank that second drink too fast I thought to myself, remembering that I hadn’t eaten since noon. I exited the hotel and made my way through the parking lot to my car. My head was swimming and my eyes were having a hard time focusing. I reached my car and fumbled in my purse for my keys. Damn, you should have had them in your hand already, I admonished myself. I found my keys but couldn’t seem to get one into the lock. I dropped them and bent over to pick them up. Suddenly the world went black and I could feel myself falling backwards. The last memory I had was a pair of hands catching me before I hit the pavement.

I don’t know how long I was out, but when I came to I was lying on my back and we were moving. I waited for my head to clear and realized I couldn’t move my arms. I raised my head and noticed a thick leather belt around my midsection, my hands manacled to it at my sides. My legs were spread eagle and fastened to the sides of the van, a piece of duct tape over my mouth. Unable to move, I tried to scream. All that came out was a high pitched hum behind the tape. I heard a voice from the drivers seat say rather casually, “Relax, we still have a way to go.” The voice sounded slurred and recognition came to me in a rush. I had been kidnapped by Shrek. I struggled against my bonds but it was no use. I couldn’t move any of my extremities more than an inch or so. I tried to see out the windows but saw nothing. No trees, no buildings, nothing. I couldn’t even tell if it was night or day because of the tinted windows. Again my memory came rushing back. The van in the hotel parking lot!

I lay there asking myself why. Did somebody pay to have me kidnapped. Not too many people liked me, but would anybody go this far? Was it random? My stomach growled from hunger and my throat felt dry. How long has it been since I left the bar? I dozed off again. I don’t know how long I slept but I woke up when I felt the van stop. I heard a creaking noise outside and tried to scream again. Another high pitched hum. The van began moving again and then stopped about a minute later. I heard the driver get out and then the back doors opened. Sun poured in and I squinted my eyes. Daylight!! How far had we driven and where the hell was I?

He freed my ankles, then grabbed them and dragged me out of the van until my ass was at the tailgate. He grabbed my shoulders and sat me upright. I was right. It was Shrek. “Welcome home,” he said with a lopsided smile.

We were in a garage with the overhead door wide open. There was a beautiful home about a half a mile away surrounded by a well manicured lawn. The house seemed to be perfectly centered on the lawn. The property was surrounded by a wall which was surrounded by woods on all sides. I saw animals in the distance running about the property. At first I thought they were horses but then realized they were dogs. Dobermans! About a dozen that I could count. It all seemed so peaceful.

I was pulled from my reverie by his slurred voice. “My name is John,” the Shrek thing said, stepping in front of me. “I’m going to take the tape off of your mouth in a second. If you scream, no one will hear you, and your reward will be a new piece of tape. Do you like the taste of duct tape?” he asked.

I shook my head no.

“Good, let’s see how well you listen.” He grabbed a corner of the tape and ripped it off.

I felt a terrible sting as the tape was ripped from my mouth. “”You lousy son-of-a…“ WHACK, the side of my face went numb and my head rocked backwards.

“You’re in no position to get ugly young lady, you will learn manners and obedience. What’s your name?”

“Gina” I spat out, tears running down my cheeks.

“Very good Gina. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He helped me to my feet and led me to a work bench in the garage. “Do I need to manacle your feet Gina or are you feeling cooperative?”

“I’ll cooperate,” I replied, not seeing any other option. He opened a drawer in the workbench and pulled out a very sharp looking knife with a six inch blade. I froze, tears running down my cheeks. I begged him not to kill me.

“I’m not a killer Gina,” he said cordially. “Now stand real still so there isn’t an accident. He bent over and I felt the blade of the knife against my skin as he shoved it under my pant leg at the ankle. I closed my eyes and heard a soft tearing sound as he slit my pants from ankle to hip. He went to the other side and did the same. My pants fell to the ground leaving me in the red silk panties I had worn in hopes of getting lucky the night before. I felt a blush rising on my skin but he didn’t seem to notice. Two quick flicks of the knife blade and my panties joined my pants on the floor. He pulled my blouse out from under the thick leather belt and unbuttoned it. A couple more cuts with the knife and my blouse floated to the floor behind me, joining my pants and panties. He finally cut my bra straps and pulled it from my chest. My tits sprang forward in all their glory.

He stepped back, my bra still in one hand, the knife in the other. He looked me up and down and whistled. “You are probably the finest young woman I’ve ever seen outside of magazine.” he said admiringly. He dropped the bra and took one of my breasts in the palm of his hand, hefting it as if trying to guess it’s weight. He circled around behind me and gave me a gentle shove between the shoulder blades forcing me to bend forward. In spite of all that had happened, my body was betraying me as I felt a drop of my own pussy juice running down my leg. His hands were probing my ass cheeks and then I felt one of his long thick fingers push easily into my sopping wet vagina. He moved his finger out and in a few times and my body quaked with an explosive orgasm. My knees buckled and I felt his hands go to my hips, holding me up.

“Why are you doing this and what do you want with me? I asked, my voice quivering.

“I like to make love to beautiful women,” he replied. “Unfortunately, beautiful woman no longer want to make love to me because of this,” he said, pointing to his face. “Ironically, it was a beautiful woman who supposedly loved me that caused my disfigurement. She’s rotting in prison for the next forty years but that doesn’t give me my looks back. I have taken you as my bride.”

“You mean your sex slave.” I interrupted.

“You can call yourself my wife, my sex slave, or my hostage. I don’t care. I am going to remove the belt now and release your arms. It is useless to try and get away, though I don’t doubt you’ll try it at least once.”

He undid the leather belt from behind and my arms fell forward under the weight. He pulled a key from his pocket and undid my wrists one at a time using his knee to support the weight of the belt. When I was freed I rubbed my wrist to get the circulation going. He opened a small refrigerator that was sitting on the workbench and handed me a Snickers bar and a can of Diet Pepsi. “This should hold you until we can get some food into you. I hungrily gobbled the candy bar and drank the Diet Pepsi down in huge gulps. When I finished he put his huge hand on the back of my neck and said simply, “C’mon.”

We walked out of the garage and he turned to shut the overhead door. Seizing the opportunity, I made a beeline for the house screaming at the top of my lungs. I was hoping somebody would be there to save me from this maniac. John let out a shrill whistle and I was immediately surrounded by a dozen growling Doberman’s. One nipped at my thigh puncturing the skin. I fell to the ground and curled up in a naked ball expecting to be torn to shreds. When I opened my eyes, to my amazement, the dogs were sitting quietly in a circle surrounding me.

John came forward laughing. He walked through the circle of Dobermans and picked me up by the waist as if I weighed no more than a rag doll. “Rule number one Gina. When I’m on the property I need only whistle and these dogs will bring anything to bay, man or critter. If you freeze or drop to the ground, they will simply surround you and wait for my command. If you had continued to run, they would have brought you down. And Gina, just so you know, if you’re outside the perimeter of the house when I’m not around, they will tear you to pieces.”

“Now let’s get to the house. By the way Gina, you were running in the right direction. That house is mine, and yours too now. You are welcome to enjoy all the amenities and live the life of Riley or you can fight it and be miserable. It’s your choice.”

“My thighs bleeding,” I said, holding up my leg for him to see.

“That must’ve been Buster,” John said nonchalantly. “He gets a little overzealous. Let’s get to the house and Paula can take a look at it."

So we continued on to the house. John leading, me in all my glorious nakedness, following.

Paula???