Faerie IV Love is where you find it IV Yes love flourishes
- 3 years ago
- 18
- 0
Cold Flour free porn video
Caught
Kneeling on the cold, concrete floor beside the toilet, dressed in lingerie and wearing pink lipstick waiting for the door to open, my mind kept going around in circles to what led me here, wondering if I could have done anything different to prevent it.
I remembered sitting on the toilet, I looked at my bight pink nylon and white lace panties, resisting the urge to play with myself. They looked so lovely against my pale, shaved legs above the stocking tops and garter straps. I blushed slightly and smiled at what a dirty little pervert I was to wear lingerie under my street clothes to work. It wasn’t something I did very often, but this morning, after taking off my pink baby doll nighty and satin panties I thought how shameful it would be to do that again.
At first, I dismissed it, as there was always the chance that someone might notice the garter straps, or panties when I bent over. You never knew who might be watching you around the office. After the shower and shave, I felt particularly horny looking at my totally shaved body in the mirror and ran my hands over the slight, soft swelling on my upper chest. They looked and felt like young girls titties with large, round nipples, a slightly darker pink than the rest of my chest.
I guess that was when I decided to wear lingerie, shivering slightly as I put on the bra, teddy, garter belt and stocking, thinking how sissy and faggy I looked dressed like that. The last item of course was the ‘boys cut’ pink panties, smiling to myself as I thought of that name. ‘Boy cut’, or ‘boys shorts’.
It sounded like all boys and young men should be wearing them. Now there was a thought. How about a law that said you had to wear them until you were 18, wouldn’t that be something. All those pretty boy and young men, all male and macho like me, walking around in sissy pink panties and bra under their street clothes. I guess they wouldn’t be calling anyone faggot or queer then with everyone knowing what they were wearing. Just to be on the safe side I wore a tee shirt over the bra and teddy, as I didn’t want them showing through my shirt, even though I was wearing a lightweight vest over my shirt. That should hide any tell-tale outlines or visible signs of what I was wearing.
I felt the outline of the bra, and the lace around the top of the teddy, and I couldn’t resist the urge to touch myself after that, letting out a soft moan as I stroked my cock. It felt so good, and I sat on the toilet a little longer, reveling in the feeling between my legs and smell of the toilet. Somehow, the smell made it feel even more shamefully erotic and depraved. With a sigh I stopped, knowing that if I didn’t I’d jack off until I climaxed, and I wanted that feeling to go on as long as possible.
Standing, I turned to flush the toilet and reached down to pull my panties up.
As I did, the toilet door opened. I froze in shock. In my haste to go for a pee I’d forgotten to lock the door. I was so petrified I couldn’t move, not even to look around to see who it was. I heard movement, the door closing, and the click of the lock. The next second the light went off. I heard myself moan in panic and the sound of my heart beat pounding in my ears, hardly being able to breath. I turned, but couldn’t see who it was, only the sound of his soft footsteps coming towards me, and the rasping sound of a zip.
I wanted to run, but was too petrified to move, and run to where? I felt him stand close, then his hand touching my crotch, stroking it with rough fingers. His breath brushed my ear as he leaned closer.
“Nice panties, bitch!” He whispered in a husky voice.
Between the pounding of my heart and my gasping for breath, I couldn’t tell who it was. Someone from my office was all I knew, someone who now knew I was a panty-wearing sissy masquerading as a real man. I couldn’t help myself, between his man smell, the darkness, toilet smell and his hand squeezing my cock I started to get hard. I felt movement and knew he was playing with his cock, then he stopped and using both hands, he pushed the vest off and unbuttoned my shirt.
I wanted to stop him, wanted to say don’t, but I couldn’t. He pushed the shirt off my shoulder and ran his hand over my body as the vest and shirt dropped to the floor. Without a word, he lifted my tee shirt and pulled it over my head, dropping it onto the floor I suppose. I head him sigh and his fingers ran over my body again, feeling the bra through the teddy and down over my hips. Gripping the waste band of the panties he pulled them down and freeing my hardening cock. One hand returned to squeezing my cock, while the other return to jacking himself off, and I thought for a wild moment that would be enough. His hand wandered up my body until it rested on my shoulder and began to push downward. I let out a small sob, knowing what he wanted.
I tried to tell myself not to do it, to refuse, but I couldn’t. Slowly I sank to my knees, tears of shame running down my face. He’d seen me, knew who I was. If I didn’t do this, I knew he’d tell everyone. My knee hit the damp, cold concrete floor and I could smell his manhood, right in front of my face.
I sobbed again as he reached down, and using his thumb and forefinger squeezed my cheeks until my mouth opened. The moment it did, he pushed the head of his cock between my lips and into my mouth.
“Suck it faggot!”
Crying in shame, I started licking and sucking his big cock and it wasn’t long before he started gently pumping it in and out of my mouth. I shivered in disgust at the feel of his cock in my mouth, tasting it and the little shot of musky pre-cum that leaked from the tip. At first, he just stroked my hair, gradually moving his hand to the back of my head so he could push my head forward as he pushed his cock in and out of my mouth. Then he had both hands on my head, holding it tight, gradually speeding up his stokes and beginning to pant.
“Suck it hard you disgusting little cock sucking faggot bitch!”
Sobbing around his cock with hot tears of shame running down my face I did, sucking his rock hard cock as it slipped in and out between my wet lips. I felt his cock swell in my mouth, and with a loud groan of pleasure, he shot his load into my mouth, filling it with his hot cum. I gagged and choked as it hit the back of my throat, but he didn’t stop, just kept fucking my mouth. In desperation I swallowed, and kept swallowing as more and more cum filled my mouth. With a last thrust, he stopped and I felt him shiver as he slowly withdrew his cock from my mouth.
“Ummmm good.” He murmured, hearing the rasp as he zipped up his pants.
Without another word and turned and walked across the toilet towards the strip of light coming in under the door. For a moment he stopped.
“Hey bitch!’ He whispered loud enough for me to hear.
I looked in his direction and caught the flash in my eyes. He’d taken a picture of me. I sobbed again and dropped my head as he opened the door and left, closing and locking the door behind him for which I was thankful, as I didn’t think I could move right then.
Wiping the tears from my eyes, I turned, thinking to throw up in the bowl, but I didn’t. As disgusting as it was, I didn’t feel in the least bit sick. In the end I stood, pulling my pants up enough so I could go over and switch the light on. Checking to see if the door was locked, I dressed, rinsed my mouth out, washed and dried my face and hands and stood there looking myself in the mirror. I couldn’t look at myself for long, still feeling ashamed of myself. I’d just been used like a cheap faggot slut and I should have stopped him but didn’t. What made me blush ever more was the fact that throughout the whole ordeal I was as hard as a rock. Thankfully, he, whoever he was hadn’t seen that, not sure if that would have made a difference.
What would I do now? Someone out there knew what I was and had a picture of me. Would he tell? Would he say something to anyone or show then the picture? I didn’t know. Combing my hair, I walked slowly back to my desk as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened and continued my work. Even so, it was hard to concentrate, looking at the other guys in the office and wondering which one of them it was. The day progressed, depressing hour after hour. An orange juice lunch couldn’t get the taste of his cock and cum out of my mouth, no matter how much I tried. It was still there, at the back of my throat, a constant reminder of what I’d done. At three, I took a break and went outside to get a breath of fresh air, thinking it might help.
It did for a moment, until I got back to my desk. Tucked under my nameplate was an envelope with my name on it and something bulky inside, and with trembling fingers I opened it. Inside was a simply note a picture and a lipstick. Checking to see no one was looking at me I opened the lipstick, sucking in my breath as I saw bright pink. The note was simply.
‘5:00 pm – bathroom – lipstick – lights off - be ready – or else’
There was no signature and the note could have been written on any computer on the office. As poor as it was, the color picture said it all. A recognizable me, kneeling in front a toilet dressed in slutty, faggy underwear. The office closed at 4:30, and by five, I was in the darkened toilet stripped down to my lingerie, wearing bright pink lipstick and kneeling on the floor. The door opened, but I didn’t look up. I didn’t want to know who it was. He walked over and stood in front of me, unzipping his pants as he did.
“Stand up and bend over the toilet, bitch.”
I moaned softly and did what he told me, feeling his hands traveling over my body as I turned and bent over. His thumbs hooked into the waistband of my panties, pulling them down to my knees.
“Good. Spread your legs pussy boy!
Please let this author know what you thought of their story. Stories are provided free of charge, and our authors only "payment" is the fan-mail that they receive from readers. If you liked what you read, encourage this author to write more! If you have some CONSTRUCTIVE feedback, provide that as well.
Kneeling on the cold, concrete floor beside the toilet, dressed in lingerie and wearing pink lipstick waiting for the door to open, my mind kept going around in circles to what led me here, wondering if I could have done anything different to prevent it.
I remembered sitting on the toilet, I looked at my bight pink nylon and white lace panties, resisting the urge to play with myself. They looked so lovely against my pale, shaved legs above the stocking tops and garter straps. I blushed slightly and smiled at what a dirty little pervert I was to wear lingerie under my street clothes to work. It wasn’t something I did very often, but this morning, after taking off my pink baby doll nighty and satin panties I thought how shameful it would be to do that again.
At first, I dismissed it, as there was always the chance that someone might notice the garter straps, or panties when I bent over. You never knew who might be watching you around the office. After the shower and shave, I felt particularly horny looking at my totally shaved body in the mirror and ran my hands over the slight, soft swelling on my upper chest. They looked and felt like young girls titties with large, round nipples, a slightly darker pink than the rest of my chest.
I guess that was when I decided to wear lingerie, shivering slightly as I put on the bra, teddy, garter belt and stocking, thinking how sissy and faggy I looked dressed like that. The last item of course was the ‘boys cut’ pink panties, smiling to myself as I thought of that name. ‘Boy cut’, or ‘boys shorts’.
It sounded like all boys and young men should be wearing them. Now there was a thought. How about a law that said you had to wear them until you were 18, wouldn’t that be something. All those pretty boy and young men, all male and macho like me, walking around in sissy pink panties and bra under their street clothes. I guess they wouldn’t be calling anyone faggot or queer then with everyone knowing what they were wearing. Just to be on the safe side I wore a tee shirt over the bra and teddy, as I didn’t want them showing through my shirt, even though I was wearing a lightweight vest over my shirt. That should hide any tell-tale outlines or visible signs of what I was wearing.
I felt the outline of the bra, and the lace around the top of the teddy, and I couldn’t resist the urge to touch myself after that, letting out a soft moan as I stroked my cock. It felt so good, and I sat on the toilet a little longer, reveling in the feeling between my legs and smell of the toilet. Somehow, the smell made it feel even more shamefully erotic and depraved. With a sigh I stopped, knowing that if I didn’t I’d jack off until I climaxed, and I wanted that feeling to go on as long as possible.
Standing, I turned to flush the toilet and reached down to pull my panties up.
As I did, the toilet door opened. I froze in shock. In my haste to go for a pee I’d forgotten to lock the door. I was so petrified I couldn’t move, not even to look around to see who it was. I heard movement, the door closing, and the click of the lock. The next second the light went off. I heard myself moan in panic and the sound of my heart beat pounding in my ears, hardly being able to breath. I turned, but couldn’t see who it was, only the sound of his soft footsteps coming towards me, and the rasping sound of a zip.
I wanted to run, but was too petrified to move, and run to where? I felt him stand close, then his hand touching my crotch, stroking it with rough fingers. His breath brushed my ear as he leaned closer.
“Nice panties, bitch!” He whispered in a husky voice.
Between the pounding of my heart and my gasping for breath, I couldn’t tell who it was. Someone from my office was all I knew, someone who now knew I was a panty-wearing sissy masquerading as a real man. I couldn’t help myself, between his man smell, the darkness, toilet smell and his hand squeezing my cock I started to get hard. I felt movement and knew he was playing with his cock, then he stopped and using both hands, he pushed the vest off and unbuttoned my shirt.
I wanted to stop him, wanted to say don’t, but I couldn’t. He pushed the shirt off my shoulder and ran his hand over my body as the vest and shirt dropped to the floor. Without a word, he lifted my tee shirt and pulled it over my head, dropping it onto the floor I suppose. I head him sigh and his fingers ran over my body again, feeling the bra through the teddy and down over my hips. Gripping the waste band of the panties he pulled them down and freeing my hardening cock. One hand returned to squeezing my cock, while the other return to jacking himself off, and I thought for a wild moment that would be enough. His hand wandered up my body until it rested on my shoulder and began to push downward. I let out a small sob, knowing what he wanted.
I tried to tell myself not to do it, to refuse, but I couldn’t. Slowly I sank to my knees, tears of shame running down my face. He’d seen me, knew who I was. If I didn’t do this, I knew he’d tell everyone. My knee hit the damp, cold concrete floor and I could smell his manhood, right in front of my face.
I sobbed again as he reached down, and using his thumb and forefinger squeezed my cheeks until my mouth opened. The moment it did, he pushed the head of his cock between my lips and into my mouth.
“Suck it faggot!”
Crying in shame, I started licking and sucking his big cock and it wasn’t long before he started gently pumping it in and out of my mouth. I shivered in disgust at the feel of his cock in my mouth, tasting it and the little shot of musky pre-cum that leaked from the tip. At first, he just stroked my hair, gradually moving his hand to the back of my head so he could push my head forward as he pushed his cock in and out of my mouth. Then he had both hands on my head, holding it tight, gradually speeding up his stokes and beginning to pant.
“Suck it hard you disgusting little cock sucking faggot bitch!”
Sobbing around his cock with hot tears of shame running down my face I did, sucking his rock hard cock as it slipped in and out between my wet lips. I felt his cock swell in my mouth, and with a loud groan of pleasure, he shot his load into my mouth, filling it with his hot cum. I gagged and choked as it hit the back of my throat, but he didn’t stop, just kept fucking my mouth. In desperation I swallowed, and kept swallowing as more and more cum filled my mouth. With a last thrust, he stopped and I felt him shiver as he slowly withdrew his cock from my mouth.
“Ummmm good.” He murmured, hearing the rasp as he zipped up his pants.
Without another word and turned and walked across the toilet towards the strip of light coming in under the door. For a moment he stopped.
“Hey bitch!’ He whispered loud enough for me to hear.
I looked in his direction and caught the flash in my eyes. He’d taken a picture of me. I sobbed again and dropped my head as he opened the door and left, closing and locking the door behind him for which I was thankful, as I didn’t think I could move right then.
Wiping the tears from my eyes, I turned, thinking to throw up in the bowl, but I didn’t. As disgusting as it was, I didn’t feel in the least bit sick. In the end I stood, pulling my pants up enough so I could go over and switch the light on. Checking to see if the door was locked, I dressed, rinsed my mouth out, washed and dried my face and hands and stood there looking myself in the mirror. I couldn’t look at myself for long, still feeling ashamed of myself. I’d just been used like a cheap faggot slut and I should have stopped him but didn’t. What made me blush ever more was the fact that throughout the whole ordeal I was as hard as a rock. Thankfully, he, whoever he was hadn’t seen that, not sure if that would have made a difference.
What would I do now? Someone out there knew what I was and had a picture of me. Would he tell? Would he say something to anyone or show then the picture? I didn’t know. Combing my hair, I walked slowly back to my desk as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened and continued my work. Even so, it was hard to concentrate, looking at the other guys in the office and wondering which one of them it was. The day progressed, depressing hour after hour. An orange juice lunch couldn’t get the taste of his cock and cum out of my mouth, no matter how much I tried. It was still there, at the back of my throat, a constant reminder of what I’d done. At three, I took a break and went outside to get a breath of fresh air, thinking it might help.
It did for a moment, until I got back to my desk. Tucked under my nameplate was an envelope with my name on it and something bulky inside, and with trembling fingers I opened it. Inside was a simply note a picture and a lipstick. Checking to see no one was looking at me I opened the lipstick, sucking in my breath as I saw bright pink. The note was simply.
‘5:00 pm – bathroom – lipstick – lights off - be ready – or else’
There was no signature and the note could have been written on any computer on the office. As poor as it was, the color picture said it all. A recognizable me, kneeling in front a toilet dressed in slutty, faggy underwear. The office closed at 4:30, and by five, I was in the darkened toilet stripped down to my lingerie, wearing bright pink lipstick and kneeling on the floor. The door opened, but I didn’t look up. I didn’t want to know who it was. He walked over and stood in front of me, unzipping his pants as he did.
“Stand up and bend over the toilet, bitch.”
I moaned softly and did what he told me, feeling his hands traveling over my body as I turned and bent over. His thumbs hooked into the waistband of my panties, pulling them down to my knees.
“Good. Spread your legs pussy boy!
Please let this author know what you thought of their story. Stories are provided free of charge, and our authors only "payment" is the fan-mail that they receive from readers. If you liked what you read, encourage this author to write more! If you have some CONSTRUCTIVE feedback, provide that as well.
Mikhaela
- 31.03.2022
- 10
- 0
