The Girl Next Door free porn video

The Girl Next Door Written and copyrighted by Gina Rose and Marcia St.Denis, December, 2001 All rights reserved. Chapter 1 I've known Mark for over four months now. He lives next door to me in a brand new apartment building near the center of town. I moved there just after leaving home at age twenty-one. I had been desperately waiting to be of legal age so I could get off on my own, away from the prying eyes of my mother who knew how special her sweet child was and who had kept a careful watch over me to keep me with her doing what she wanted me to do, not what I needed to do. Oh God, how wonderful it feels to be all alone to pursue my special interests in private! Anyway, Mark, (who is in his mid-thirties and looks very successful in that tanned, well to do, sleek, urban way) never really noticed me, I don't think, though I couldn't take my eyes off of him whenever I chanced to catch a glimpse of his slim, lithe body and his lean, handsome face surrounded by dark wavy hair. Every time I could, I would try to get behind him so I could gaze at his tiny little butt and daydream about how hard and muscled it must get when he was clenching it under a lover's pair of hands. I knew almost nothing about him other than he was a bachelor and lived next door to me and drove an expensive and very sexy car. I wanted to know more, much more, but couldn't think of any way to get closer to him. One day about two weeks after moving in, I was in the laundry room getting one of my loads out of the drier and folding the clothes, when he walked in with his stuff, which he proceeded to put into a washing machine. I was struck dumb and must have seemed like a silly young twit to him the first time we met there in the laundry room. He smiled pleasantly and said, "Hello," and all I could do was mumble a brief "Hi" and go back to my laundry, hoping desperately that he wouldn't see what was in my basket. I was shaken, however. I had never reacted so physically or as emotionally to meeting anyone before in my life. Maybe it was the room and its heat. Maybe I was feeling a bit faint from the lack of fresh air. But my heart was beating fast, my legs were shaking, and my breath felt like it was stuck in my throat. Yet, try as I might to deny the truth, I couldn't get over what I had just seen. His eyes were sooooooo green, and his hands looked so masculine and strong, yet he handled his laundry with such a soft touch. I nearly swooned at the thought of his touch on my soft, hot, feverish skin. He asked me how long the cycle ran, and when I told him about an hour, he said, "Damn!" I guessed that he must have had an appointment or something and I told him that I needed to stay for my load and that I would be happy to watch his stuff. When he left I breathed a huge sigh of relief for he hadn't seen what was in my basket, and as I proceeded to finish his laundry for him I couldn't help but notice the extremely masculine taste he had in clothing. At least in everything but one: he seemed to wear only silk boxer shorts and not just in blacks and other dark colors. He had some in bright gem tones of green and blue and there was even a red pair. I wondered if beneath his very male exterior he might not be a sensualist, but I quickly put the thought out of my mind and finished up and left. After that brief encounter, we never really spoke much to each other though he did thank me for finishing his laundry. Our conversation was limited to just the usual small talk of "Hi, how're you doing?" But if I used to notice him in the past, since I looked into his eyes, I've had this really big "thing" for him ever since. Nice looking athletic body. Flat tummy. Well defined muscles. Tight ass. Sweet, sexy smile, and deeply green, deliciously cool eyes. YUMMY!!!! There was also something else there... a certain animal-like detachment, an inner strength, almost cruel in its honest brutality. If it sent shivers of submissive lust through me, I could only imagine his effect on women. I figured he'd have his pick of women; that they'd be spreading their legs for him after one glance. He undoubtedly has loads of girlfriends and probably thought of me as a sissy, faggot, weakling. Yet, I never saw him with any women and certainly I couldn't hear any sounds of love making or squeals of delight from an orgasmic woman coming through the walls. Of course, his private life was none of my business.... But I am so nosy that I make it my business to know as much as I can about the men I desire. I learned at a very early age how to pick up my men on the street or in dark parking lots near gay bars whose reputations are spread by word of mouth when my mother took me out of the house to work with her. I had a special appeal to many men with very special needs since I was clearly underage but had an insatiable hunger and need to be used by older men. And mom knew it and encouraged me and taught me almost everything I know about getting what I wanted from men who needed what I offered. I would hang around the parking lots of gay bars or openly walk our town's special street and wait to be picked up and used. Older men love tender sweet morsels like me, and I learned early how to use them to my own advantage. How do you think I could afford this fancy apartment and all the nice things inside? Certainly not just on my secretary's salary. Every town has a certain kind of bar where people like me go to find the type of men who are interested in soft little sweet things to use for their pleasure. And after a few years, I thought I could read the differences in those kinds of guys pretty well. It became easy to tell the insensitive, macho, dominant types from the soft, weak, submissives. My special talent was looking like their daughters or their daughter's "bad" girlfriends. I learned a lot about men who wanted to fuck minors and even more about men who wanted the illusion of being with a hot little underage girl but needed the hard, hot action of being mounted from behind and fucked till their assholes couldn't close anymore around hard, hot cocks. I ought to tell you, I'm a TG: A transvestite, crossdresser, trannie, ladyboy.....whatever you want to call it. I'm a girlboy. Completely transgendered and thankful for it. That means I have a boy's body and equipment, but a girl's thoughts, emotions, desires, needs, and lusts. And I like to look and act like a sexy little girl relishing a girl's right to dress properly and primly (which I never do) or like a wanton, wicked little bit of girly fluff (which is my natural taste in clothes). But you wouldn't know it to look at me unless you knew what the telltale signs are to look for. Oh sure, I looked very gay but I don't wear my tgirlness openly on my shoulder. Like most of us tgirls, I have learned to hide my true self, as TG's are generally reviled by all segments of society, even gay society. And so I am forced to live a lie most of the time. The straights laugh at us as if we were freaks and the gays look down their noses at us thinking that we just aren't brave enough to admit we are gay. If you looked at me closely, you'd catch it all though. The slightly sing-songish voice, the slender waist, the hairstyle, the unisex, almost feminine clothes, the soft, totally hairless skin, the shaped eyebrows, the longish, beautifully manicured nails, the little wiggle in my butt when I walk. I try to behave as straight as possible in public though I know I'm not very convincing. What I am can't be denied, and in private, I am surrounded by soft femininity. My apartment is painted in soft yellows and pinks. My drapes are all made of the sheerest chiffon with the most delicate ruffled fringes, and I have very thick off white carpeting. My bedroom is dominated by a large white canopied bed covered in satin and fluffy pillows with lace pillow covers. My vanity is littered with my makeup and perfume bottles. I have my hair rollers and hair spray and curling iron right there within easy reach. And my closets are overflowing with lingerie, dresses, stilettos, thigh high boots, skirts, shortie-shorts, halter tops, cropped tops, ruffled blouses, sheers and tank tops...... You see I am a clothes horse of the worst kind. And what I was terrified Mark might see that day in the laundry were all of the panties, bras, corsets, and body stockings I had just finished folding. In case you are wondering, my girl name is Gina, and my last name is Rose. Mark probably thought of me as quite aloof and unfriendly. I could tell by the very distant way he would greet me afterwards. But that has changed. See, recently, I had this pleasant accident of sorts. What was it? Well, Mark found out about my little secret. And I found out secrets that Mark has been keeping too. It would be boring if I told you in brief, wouldn't it? Chapter 2 "Oh, fuck!" I thought. If this boy were a girl I'd be all over her. I was kind of upset with myself (and scared) as I have never in my life reacted to another male the way I reacted when I met that slight little effeminate looking boy who lives next door. What was going on? I couldn't stop thinking about him. I would have completely ignored him except for the fact that I noticed his eyes and skin the moment I looked up to see him when I entered the laundry room. Soft, smooth, honey brown skin and the biggest doe eyes I'd ever seen on a man, with incredibly long eyelashes. The way he looked at me... like a deer caught in headlights, as if he were about to cry, was haunting me. And then there were his hands: Long slender fingers, soft to the point where it was clear they'd never done a lick of hard work in their entire life and those finger nails were longer and better maintained than a lot of the women I date. I can't stop imagining his tapered fingers wrapped around my rock-hard cock, stroking it till I cum all over his face. Shit! I've turned into a fucking faggot. I've got to snap out of this. But what really got me to thinking, I guess, was what I saw him trying to hide in his laundry basket. It was full of soft, silky, lacy, delicate women's lingerie all perfectly folded and all in the latest styles and fashion.... Thongs and padded push up type bras where the cups stay up and shaped, and satin paneled corsets and silk chemises, and slips, and I'm sure that I even saw an unbelievably sexy spaghetti strap, lace-bodiced, long flowing black satin nightgown. I mean, what was an unmarried boy doing with stuff like that? At least I don't think he is married. Maybe he has a girlfriend who leaves her things there, but I don't think so. He looks too gay. I know it's wrong to judge people by their looks or mannerisms and I've been around long enough to know that a lot of women like their men to be soft and weak. And I have to admit that I don't know much about gays but I just got this feeling that he is one. On top of that, I have never once heard a woman's voice come through the wall that separates our apartments so, I don't even think he has a girlfriend. Were all those sexy things his? What was getting to me was the image of him dressed in those gorgeous little wispy bits of clothing. You see, I have an unbelievable fetish for women's lingerie and sexy clothing. It's something that started way, way back in childhood when I saw my neighbor in her bedroom from my room every night. Her husband always seemed to like watching her give a strip tease show and I loved watching through their open curtain. I always wondered if she knew she left her curtains open and that her window faced mine. My guess is that she did and she knew exactly the effect her hot shows had on her little neighbor boy cuz of the way she would smile at me when I saw her in the neighborhood..... as if she knew I had to wank off while watching her. What she probably didn't know was that it was me who kept stealing her satin and silky panties and slips from the clothes line. I stole them so I could wrap my cock in them while I jacked off at the sight of her through their window. The slippery, satiny feel of her lingerie on my hard little cock was such a huge turn on and just knowing that they were hers and had been on her gorgeous body next to her sweet pussy turned me on to the point of making me cum practically before I even touched my tool. My love of sexy feminine lingerie is such that even today I only date girls with extravagant taste in women's clothing. I have this theory you see. I've figured out that you can tell a woman's attitude towards sex by the clothes she wears and ESPECIALLY by the shoes she wears. The sexier the clothes and the higher and more impractical the heels, the more you know she dresses for men.... You know.... She's picked her clothes with the thought of getting men all worked up and hot for her and then being undressed by some hot stud like me who can't keep his hands off her and wants only to nail her with his hard cock. Those are the kind of girls I date. In fact, if they don't wear super short dresses with minimum 3" heels and stockings then I don't even look at them. So what in the world was I doing fantasizing about this boy next door all dressed up as a girl? And why did the thought make my cock rock hard and make me want to take it out of my pants and jack it till I cum? Was I becoming a fag? God, what a horrible thought. Poofs, queers, sissies, faggots, butt-fuckers... whatever you want to call them.... I was the type of guy who NEVER ever thought about gay men without feeling sorry for them because of the pleasure of soft sweet pussy that they were missing. And then the thought of them humping each other doggie-style.... I mean, it really just kind of disgusted me. Yet here I was, walking around my apartment thinking about the little soft effeminate boy next door all made up and dressed as a hot sexy girl, being so thoughtful and sweet as to offer to do my laundry and then folding it all perfectly, and delivering it to my front door when I had to rush off. How ironic that the meeting I had to get to was to meet Nancy at her place where she got down on her knees to blow me like I've never been blown before. I couldn't believe it, when I came all over her face, that I was thinking of that boy's big brown eyes and his fat, pouty lips and his long dark eyelashes and imagining what those fat soft lips and wet mouth would feel like wrapped around my huge cock instead of Nancy's. I have to admit that like all of the women I date, she was starting to bore me..... badly. And yet, I don't even know his name. I mean I've seen it on his buzzer and I think he introduced himself to me in the laundry.... maybe not.... can't remember.... but for the life of me, if he did give me his name, I can't remember it now. All I know, right now, is that something changed in me when I saw him and now I'm scared. I mean, here I am all alone in my apartment when I should have Nancy or Sophie or Sherry with me to fuck and make me happy, and what am I doing? Well, I'm not calling one of my babes. I'm sitting on my sofa with the drapes drawn, nursing my third martini ,and dreaming about doing it to girlyboy next door. "Oh fuck, I need another drink. And wouldn't I be totally ostracized and laughed at by all of my colleagues and friends if they could see me as I got up and made sure I didn't trip on the hem of the purple satin nightgown that one of my ex-girlfriends had left at my place and which I love to wear when I need to jack off.... as it is so easy then for me to reach down and wrap its soft silky fabric around my member and jack myself through the fabric so that when I explode, the fabric collects all my cum and absorbs it and I don't have a big mess to wipe up." I had put it on and I was getting plastered cuz I knew I wanted to fuck that boygirl next door and I knew it was perverted and not right, and I just couldn't bring myself to actually act on my impulse, and I knew deep down that if I stepped over that line I would never get back. So I was going to spend a lonely night alone jacking off into Sophie's sexy nightgown instead. Chapter 3 I was returning from my evening jog and I was wearing an extremely pretty and delicate pale lavender tracksuit, which was nice and loose to hide my waxed body and girly underwear. By the time I got to my apartment block, my hair, which had been neatly pulled back for the run when I would be in full view of the public, was starting to come loose and there was a slight amount of perspiration on my face. (But I have to say that I looked very sexy with a little glow from the exertion of the exercise even if it wasn't the kind I really wanted just then. The kind of exercise I was in desperate need of that night was the kind you do on all fours or on my back with my legs in the air and the panting comes from pleasure not exercise.) Left loose, my hair makes me look quite girly. In fact, I go to a local beauty salon with the latest edition of Vogue and have Jackie cut and style my hair to the latest fashion. Having beautiful hair is one of my fetishes as I think it makes or breaks a woman's sex appeal. But when I am in public, it is pulled back into a ponytail... very unisex. As I approached the building, I noticed there wasn't anyone in the foyer or the elevator. So I let my hair loose and slipped out of my track pants to cool off. I thought it would be OK, even though I was wearing just these itsybitsy girly gym shorts with a very tiny, skin tight, pink lace thong beneath to hold my girlcock down between my legs. I think there was another reason I partially undressed however. Subconsciously, I guess I was feeling extremely horny and I think I knew that the moment I got in my door, I was heading to my bedroom and my beloved vibrator. I needed to cum..... really bad! I had been thinking about sex and cocks and cum all day, and when I was jogging I kept seeing more and more men in their tight shorts with sweat streaming off their bare chests and I was desperate by the time I finished. I got out of the lift and quickly walked to my door. As I was turning the door handle, I heard someone say, "Excuse me missy." I froze. It was Mark! Oh God...... would I be able to behave myself? I desperately fancied him. I had been fantasizing about his hard body and the size and girth of his prick for months. But I didn't want him to see me like this, to discover my secret.... to be humiliated and mocked publicly. I mean, here I was. Hair all loose, half my butt sticking out of those white shorts, legs waxed. With a hint of lip gloss left on my lips. Two holes in each ear for my earrings. It wouldn't take long for him to figure me out now. I turned around embarrassed and blushing. "Oh, hi Mark," I said weakly, as I fumbled with my key. There was a few seconds pause. I thought I'd hear something like, "Why are you dressed like that? You look so girlish. Are you queer?" or maybe even a snicker. But there was nothing. All he did was smile. "Been jogging? That's healthy and good for the figure. Maybe I'll join you some weekend if that is OK with you." I almost fainted. He was either too dumb to guess or he was being polite and if it was the latter, then I was thanking him silently. What a darling sweet boy. I wanted to sink to my knees right there and show him my appreciation. He always looked the polite sort. Anyway, he went on his way and I went directly to my bedroom and stripped down to my matching pink bra and thong and reverently took out my favorite vibrator, got on my bed, lifted my legs, dipped my fingers into my lube jar, pulled the thin strip of lace aside and lubed my ass really well. MMMMMmmmmm, Ungh, It feels soooooooooooo goooooooooooooood!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh God I needed and craved Mark's big thick cock going up me instead of this stupid plastic prick. I wanted to feel the throbbing heat and powerful thrusts of a horny, sexy stud-muffin male whose only thought was to fuck the shit out of his little tgirl whore and pump his thick, hot, sticky love juice into my waiting asspussy. I wanted to walk around my apartment in a negligee and high heel slippers and feel and smell the cum leaking out of my well used hole as it dripped down my legs and I longed to feel the inner peace of knowing that I could reduce a strong, powerful man into a rutting, mindless cock whose ONLY thought was to cum inside of me. Now that's the kind of power I wanted to hold over a man and that's the kind of debased, abusive, humiliating treatment I craved at the hands of a lover. I didn't bump into him again until the following weekend, in the basement when I was heading back down to pick up my laundry. I had been doing my nails. "How's the jogging coming along, cutie-pie?" I thought he was being sarcastic but then he quickly added, "I just wanted to tell you how nice you looked the other night with your hair left loose. Why do you tie it up? It makes you look so severe that way. You should leave it down all the time. And I have to say, your exercise sure is working. I think you have a great figure. Very cute in fact. Running's good for everything, isn't it? Excellent for the skin, and the heart, and the legs, and.... of course, the butt. It keeps you looking very nice." Was he trying to tell me something, I wondered? But he had said it all so matter of factly and he was off so quickly, I thought it was just a compliment or something. But then a slight change occurred and we seemed to run into each other a little more often, almost as if he were timing his comings and goings to coincide with mine. The next time we met, there were some more compliments. This time about the color of my hair which I had just had highlighted with some henna and a light blond streaking. Also he would usually say something very nice about the clothes I wore. And I even let myself begin to flirt with him. I'd smile and giggle or pretend I was mad at something or I'd ask him if I could do his laundry or come over and cook for him. Once, he even patted my butt as we got out of the lift. It was starting to feel like the beginning of something that up till now I only fantasized, about: a love affair. To see if I couldn't help this thing move along a bit faster, I tried being a little more flirty. I'd slip out of my tracksuit on our floor with just a tiny pair of hotpants and ankle socks and a white exercise blouse on hoping he'd be there to see me or hoping I could "accidentally" bump into him with my big soft behind. Once, the old guy in the other apartment caught me like that. He had a puzzled look on his face. He'd never seen me like this but he seemed to like what he saw. I would stand in the hallway wondering if I should go to Mark's door to ask for something dressed like this. Then it happened. Another chance meeting. I was turning open the door and I felt someone behind me pinch my butt. "Cute shorts and nice blouse," he said. This was it. I was so thrilled. I had unbuttoned my blouse till the top of my lace bra showed, and when I turned around to greet him, I knew he was looking at it. And I was thrilled that he got a glazed look on his face. You know the way men get when they start thinking about sex and fucking? Yes, that look. It was so cute on my little Marky. I thought I'd get emotional and all I wanted to do was fall into his arms and have him kiss me. But instead I just put on a coy smile. His hand was still on my waist and he was looking down at my bra and my smooth sexy legs. "Oh, I've never invited you in for a drink. Do come in and join me. Please?" I asked. He clearly didn't need a second invitation. He liked my apartment. "Pretty," he said. We stood there facing each other, his hands on my hips. I held on to his arm. Then he pulled me close and kissed me. Our lips met first, then slowly he slipped his tongue in. I let my hand run through his hair. He slipped his fingers in under my shorts and squeezed my butt. We pulled apart a bit. I suggested we should freshen up and meet later. He thought for a while and said he preferred waiting there in my living room. So I rushed into the shower, feeling all giddy with excitement, and my girlcock starting to get hard from sexual tension. I douched my behind to make sure that I was absolutely fresh. Then rushed to my room to put on my face, lube my ass and get dressed up for him. I wanted to impress him and make him fall under my sexual spell. I took out my prettiest yellow lace thong and matching bra. I added some C cup breastforms, which I needed until I could save up for my implants. I wore a sexy soft cream colored crop-top and another pair of very girly black velour shorts with a wide patent leather belt and silver buttons down the front. I did my hair, letting it fall around my face, put on some nice floral perfume, a hint of pale pink lipstick, some eyeliner, lots of mascara, a pair of pearl drop earrings, a single strand pearl bracelet and anklet socks before slipping into a pair of black patent leather, open-toed 4" stilettos. I wanted to go all the way and make him lust after me and take me and give me his seed just the way I needed it: hot and hard and fast and rough. When I walked out of the bedroom to meet him, he had removed his tie and coat and had made himself a drink. He took one look at me and froze. Mark stood there speechless. I came up to him and asked him what he thought. He said he had never seen anything as sexy in his life. He was besotted with me and my look and my smell, and the touch of my fingers on his skin gave him goose bumps. He then said something that was so typical of him and atypical of the average male: he liked what I was wearing. I just loved how he always paid attention to the details. I love dressing for a man who sees what I've done and appreciates my efforts to look sexy. We sat on the sofa, his hands on my downy soft thigh. We tried to make small talk but couldn't. So we started kissing again. Only this time I broke away and slowly slipped down and unzipped him. Boy, was he hard and ready. He must've been at least 8 inches long. Beautifully cut with a tiny little piece of skin on the underside of his glans that remained connected between the head and the shaft. I'd never seen anything like that before, but he was nice and thick. Just right to fill up this horny little slut's hungry holes. I slipped it in my mouth. I bet he has had lots of blowjobs before, I thought, so I'd better make this good. Soon his hand was guiding my head up and down. He liked it. I had passed muster. I was thrilled. He asked me if I had many boyfriends. I said I didn't, that I was too new to the area. He told me this was his first time with a girlyboy. And even though he was a bit shell shocked, he was loving it. After a while, he whispered into my ear to ask if he could have anal sex. I was ecstatic. Oooph, I was worried he'd never ask... or even know that it was a possibility.... though all you other trannies out there will know what I mean when I say that asking to butt-fuck a girl like me isn't necessary. But, wasn't he the sweetest, cutest thing to ask? So I turned around and slowly slid down my shorts to expose my flawless and perfectly heart-shaped butt and the flimsy little piece of wispy lace that split my big round cheeks. Mark was new to this I'm sure because he wanted to drive it straight in. I mean, if you've had anal sex before, you know it's the sort of thing that needs a lot of foreplay. Anyway, I rushed into my bedroom and came out with my strawberry flavored lube and I asked him if he wanted to take my panties off for me. He got on his knees in front of me and slowly lifted his hands to my hips, hooked his fingers under the elastic of my thong, and gently pulled them down my legs till they lay in a heap around my ankles. I would have stepped out of them but I couldn't move as my big fat clitty was being held prisoner by Marky-poo's soft, wet, tenderly loving mouth. MMMMMmmmmm, I simply LOVE the feeling of getting blown by a beautiful man, and this man was the most beautiful creature I'd ever had between my legs. I wanted to cum right then, but I didn't. Instead, I gently pushed him away and quickly re-lubed my bum and then did his penis really well. "Go slow," I said softly, as I got on my hands and knees and offered him my lovehole.... and I hoped he would. However, after I guided his cut head to my pussy, I knew I was in for rough treatment when he thrust in quickly. I had to let out a gasp. Then I clamped my mouth shut even though it hurt. I think I bit my lip so hard I drew blood. And admit it girls, there are times when you want it rough, aren't there? Well I was ready to get it any way this gorgeous dollface wanted to give it to me. Mark thrust in too fast, but after resting a bit he began fucking me slowly. Only now and then there would be a wild buck which made me wince, but on the whole it was exactly what this little slut needed and it was beginning to feel mmmm,mmmm good for me. I knew in a while an anal orgasm would build up. However, Marky kept telling me that he was going to cum real soon. I was desperately begging him to slow down, to wait for me to catch up, to show me he loved me, but in the end I didn't really care. I wanted this to be the best sex my new baby Marky had ever had so that he would keep coming back to me for more. Right as an orgasm was beginning to build up in my butt, he couldn't hold back any longer and he came with an intensity I had never felt from any other man before. He kept cumming and cumming forever. My bowels were distended with the amount of cum he poured into me. Then he slumped over me and went limp. I guess it being his first time with anyone besides a selfish, smelly cunt, he was just lying there savoring the experience. It was a very peaceful, contented, and satisfying time lying there on my stomach with his dead weight crushing me into my soft white rug. I felt whole and satiated, and happy, even if I hadn't cum, and I was so happy and contented that his first time was as perfect as it can get. Next time would be better for me, I guessed. And I would make damn sure there would be plenty of next times. He lay there on the couch stroking my bum, asking if there was anything he could do to make me cum. I wanted to use my vibrator in front of him but thought I'd save it for another time. So I rolled over and told him that he could jack me till I came. As soon as I felt his strong but soft hands on my hard penis I knew this man would be my master and I would become his slave. I came within 15 stokes, and he scooped all of my cream up and slowly rubbed it into my cock and balls and asscrack. Oh fuck!!!!!!! I was in love and in heaven. Mark left a little later, saying he hoped he could drop in over the weekend. Little did he know that I was hoping he'd be at my door before then begging me to let him have another taste of me. After he left, I used my vibrator. I just had to have a huge anal orgasm. There's nothing so satisfying to a true girlboy. It was so strong that my eyes got wet. I wondered whether Mark would really turn up at the weekend. Then, the next morning I saw a note on my door. It said he wanted to confirm our date for the weekend and asked if he could take me out. Chapter 4 I don't know how I got home that night. I was in a trance. I had never, ever, in my wildest dreams thought that I could actually go through with it, that I could fuck a girlboy in the ass and walk away totally, completely changed........ forever. Now that I have had asspussy there was no way I could ever go back to loose sloppy girlcunt. I knew I was lost. "This must be like what crack addicts feel after their first toke.... Willing to give up everything that is near and dear to them just to get another hit..... one more high..... one more glimpse of Nirvana. Just one more little femmie boygirl, one more tight little asshole, one more soft pair of boy-lips, one more huge cum.... Then I'll quit." Yeah... right! I went to sleep and slept the sleep of the dead.... No dreams....No movement.... Complete and utter restorative sleep after living a lifetime of lies. The next morning I took stock. I was a 37 year old selfish bachelor playboy who never got involved and left countless girls heartbroken. I was wealthy and had a great job. I traveled the world. I was well educated and sophisticated. I bought my clothes in Paris and went to the theatre in London. I met beautiful, sexy, available girls all the time... and I bedded as many as I could!!!! I rarely wrote or called home. I went from one fling to the next and....... I was miserable. I hated myself. I was unhappy and unfulfilled and I didn't know what was missing. At least not until I kissed Gina for the first time. I had been totally and utterly... miserably unhappy. And I had been for years, and now I knew it. Now I couldn't deny that I had found something so powerful and so right that made a sham of the emptiness of my previous life. I couldn't lie to myself about the fact that I had been a totally self-absorbed, cruel, creep of a man... totally and utterly selfish and living only for my own pleasure.... Only, irony of ironies, I didn't even know until now what it was that I needed that would truly give me pleasure. And worst of all, I was coming to grips with my own need for fetishistic sex. Why had I always made my girlfriends wear the most outrageous lingerie? Why had I refused to fuck a girl who didn't keep her underwear on? Was it because I needed them to hide the fact that they didn't have that certain something that I found out last night that I craved.... That I needed... That I desperately, cravenly had to have in order to feel complete: A big fat, deliciously hard, throbbing, blue- veined, cum-filled, creamy smooth, unbelievably hot and pulsing cock. And why didn't I throw out or return the panties and the camies and the nightgowns and the stockings and garter belts and bras that my girlfriends invariably left behind... (Much like a dog leaves a marker behind to carve out its territory? Yes, it's true. I did think of them as dogs... as bitches to be mounted and used, and then left. I guess my lack of respect for them should have been telling me something all along. But I also guess that I was too dumb or too scared to admit my desires, my needs, my wants even to myself.) Were those girls who left things behind trying to let others.... and me.... know that they belonged at my place? Or were they trying to leave a bit of themselves behind to remind me that I was crass and cruel and that I just used them. There was no denying it now. Not after what I did last night with that unbelievably gorgeous creature next door. I wanted that thing. I wanted to be on my knees in front of her, with her dress up, worshipping her unbelievably beautiful girlcock with my mouth and stroking it with my hands and tickling the balls with my finger tips and getting it to the point where it needed to shoot.... to release..... to spray..... to pump.... to cream.... to cum all over my face. I needed and wanted and was obsessed with having to feel the spunk, the jizz, the love-juice on my hands and on my fingers and in my mouth and on my face and then to be able to rub it into her soft smooth, golden skin, into her softening cock and her balls and her thighs and if I couldn't have that again I'd go crazy, nuts, insane. But what was I going to do? Could I really give up my previous life, all of my fun times for one tiny little nothing of a queer..... Big, macho, womanizing, heartless, hedonistic Mark give up his stable of cunt? No way! C'mon man, snap out of it. This is crazy. OK, so you had one little fling... Big deal. Forget it. Forget her... him... whatever. In fact, avoid her. Forget you wrote that note. Don't even get tempted. Go back to your life. She's just a lonely little fag who suckered you in a moment of weakness. Have a drink. Go to work. Call up Sherry and get laid properly. Chapter 5 I was thrilled and all day before our date I could barely keep my mind on work. I am a male secretary in an office full of men. I am very good at it as I love to be told what to do by strong men. No arguing, no whining. I just do what I am told, the way they like it..... kind of like the way I like my sex..... as an object of men's lust and a receptacle for their pleasure. I love being dominated and I especially want men to tell me what to think and what to do and how to do it. When you make men happy they can be so appreciative. They will give you pretty things and buy you what you want and treat you like the queen you want to be. It's a two-way street. You be nice to them and they'll be nice to you. Normally, I love my job and focus all of my attention on the tasks I had to do, but today I could think of nothing but what I would wear and what I would do to get him to fuck me again. I can be such a scheming little bitch in heat. When I want to get fucked I will do ANYTHING to get my ass full of the cock I need. I think I should explain my past a bit so you can understand my deepest psychological needs and why I became the pretty little girlboy that I am. I learned about men from my mother. She was widowed soon after I was born and she never remarried. She had inherited a large insurance policy and had kept to herself for a long time after my father's death. I was sent to school but she rarely left our house. I didn't know why at the time. I thought it was because all the men she would meet would try to get her to sleep with them. Widows are considered fair game in my country, for any man to use for their pleasure, and their lives in public can be hell..... Later, I found out it was because she didn't think she wanted to return to the life she had known before she had me. But she was wrong. I found out she needed that life DESPERATELY. Mom was too young to handle the insurance money or the loneliness and it didn't take her long to start drinking too much to dull the pain of her life. She always liked getting high, but it got worse with the loss of dad. I would come home from school and rush in to greet her and as she opened her arms and hugged me close. I could smell the whiskey, but I was too young to know about the down side of drinking. What I saw, at 11 years old, was how sexy and wantonly slutty she became when she was high. Many afternoons, I would come home to find her sitting at her vanity dressed only in a negligee or in a corset with stockings, putting on makeup. I know now that she did it on purpose, to get me hot and bothered. I used to love watching her do her makeup, and I would get an erection from the sight and especially the smell of it all. I especially liked watching her put mascara and eyeliner on, and when she put a really dark lip liner on and painted her lips to a glossy red, I would reach down and slowly stroke my cock. It was the most exciting thing in the world for me to watch. Even to this day, the simple act of a woman or tgirl putting on her face transports me to a dream world of pleasure and sensualism. But I didn't know she liked watching me get hard and jacking my little cock while staring at her. She later told me how she would diddle herself with her free hand while watching me stroke my dick. She got to LOVE cumming with me watching her do her makeup. The makeup, and the lingerie, and the cumming, got all mixed up in both of our brains, I think, to the point where we didn't know which caused which.... and I didn't care. I just loved to watch her and to wank and to cum. But even though she spent hours doing her makeup and dressing in her frilliest, sexiest lingerie, she never had any visitors nor ever went out. I was glad because I wouldn't have been able to deal with it if she had. You see, I was in love with her and wanted her all to myself. I didn't want anyone to see what she would do with me after she drank so much that she didn't know what she was saying or doing. I didn't want anything to come between us or put a stop to our activities. Most children hate having an alcoholic mother. But I craved it and went to school every day praying that she'd be bombed out of her mind by the time I got home. You see, she didn't need other men. Instead, she turned all of her attention on me. By the time I was a teenager and knew what men and women do to and with each other, I'd get home and hear her say, "You're my little man, aren't you sweetcakes? Oooo, it's sooooo good to have a big gorgeous male like you around the house to look at me and admire me.... You do like looking at Mommy don't you babydoll? Hmmm? Don't you think Mommy is pretty? Don't you like looking at Mommy's titties and her smooth, sweet smelling pussy through this sexy see- through wrap? I shaved my cunny all nice and smooth for my little man. Don't you want to look at it and feel it? Hmmmm? Don't you want to come over here and show Mommy how much you love her? You know why I dress so provocatively don't you doll? Don't you know how much Mommy misses having a rough, hard, horny man around to give me what I need? Oh babycakes, I really need you to love me. Come over here and love Mommy. Come and show me how big and hard and horny her little man is. C'mon sweetie, come to Mommy and let me spread my legs for you. Come and give Mommy's sweet soft pussy a nice little suck before you fuck the shit out of me." And then she'd crook her finger at me and beckon me to come to her. When I'd get to her side, she would bring me around to stand between her legs and I would feel her begin to rub her stockinged thighs against my haunches and reach her hands down to my ass and pull me in close to her. My cock would be raging hard and she would bend her face down and slowly lick my lips till my mouth opened a little. Then, she would kiss me and snake her tongue into my mouth and pull my hands up to her tits so I could rub them and pinch them and make her moan in ecstasy. It wouldn't be long before she'd be reaching down to open my zipper and pull out my cock and slide it into her dripping pussy. We'd fuck with her sitting at her vanity and me standing between her legs, thrusting hard. I loved that position cuz I could look down over her shoulder at all of her makeup and women's things and get hornier because I was so close to it. Her nails would dig into my shoulders and buttocks and she'd bite my neck and claw my back and wrap her legs around me and pull me so close that I could barely fuck. But that was OK cuz she'd be rubbing her clitty so hard against me that she'd cum buckets and then slump into a dreamless drunken sleep. I would then do whatever I wanted to her. I'd fuck her pussy and sometimes I'd pull out and cum all over her face. I loved watching my hot sticky white cum drip down off of her heavily mascara-ed eyelashes, down her nose, all over her lips. What she didn't know was that I had fallen so deeply under the magical spell of her makeup ritual that I wanted to make myself up too. And so I would sit at her vanity all night while she slept off her drunken binge and do my face. I would try style after style. I would set my hair and comb it into every sexy look I could think of. I would shape my nails and varnish them. I would spray myself in perfume and then, little by little, as the days went by, I started to experiment with her lingerie. At first, I don't know why I did it. All I knew was that I loved the feel of her girly femme clothes adorning my soft young boy's body, and I loved how sexy and slutty I looked all made up and dolled up in her finest, frilliest underwear. Gradually, however, I began trying on more and more of her things till finally I would transform myself completely into a totally sexy, foxy, gorgeous trannie. By this time, I was about 15, and when I was completely dressed and made up, I looked 25. It was the sexiest thing I could imagine doing, and in spite of the fact that I had just fucked my mother and cum in her mouth, or her cunt, or in her tight ass, I would look at myself in the mirror and immediately get hard again and have to masturbate through her panties until my jiz sprayed out and soaked the lace or the satin and would cool off and run down my cock and balls and onto my stockinged thighs. After many months of this, most of her sexiest dresses had cum stains on the front from me. Luckily, mom was too far gone to notice..... or so I thought. But you know, it doesn't take a lot to go from alcohol to move on to drugs. And then, before you know it, you're an addict and you'll do anything for the high. Mom started by taking Quaaludes. She loved the way it made her float, she said. One afternoon, when I got home from school, she wasn't as drunk as normal, and when I came into her bedroom, she was lying on her bed with a huge vibrator in her pussy. Her legs were in the air and she had her fingers up her asshole. She looked over at me and though I thought she'd ask me to replace the dildo, she only smiled and asked me to go to the kitchen and bring her some more of her big blue pills. When I got back, she took one and told me that I should join her. She told me how much fun we'd have if I got all loose like her. A few minutes after I swallowed it, I felt hornier and sexier than I had ever felt in my life and Mommy started laughing and reached out to undo my belt. As she slowly undressed me, she kissed every inch of me and told me how she enjoyed our afternoon sex sessions. " Ooooooo, babydoll, you know I really love getting high and being fucked. But sweetie, as much as I adore you, I need more. I am such a slut whore. Oooo babydoll let's go out and pick up some men for me, OK? It will be soooo much fun. I mean , I love you and you turn me on.... Especially when I feel the way I feel now.... So high and bombed.... Don't you want to make me happy? Well then, help me get more cocks to fuck and suck." "Mom, I can't go out with my own mother to help her pick up men to fuck her. Men won't like to see a young boy doing that." "But honey, you won't be a young boy. You'll be Gina, my girlfriend," came her smooth reply. I was stunned and silent. " Oh sugar, don't be embarrassed. I know what you've been up to after you think I've checked out for the night when you've given me my dose of drugs and cum..... I know you adore becoming a young slutty girl. I've been watching you and I think you are sexier than most real girls. I really do. I also know what you are. Do you?" she asked. "There's a name for what you do. Did you know that? I'll bet you were worried about it and you thought you were sick because you like to become a little slut-girl. Right? But actually, you are just like your daddy. I married him and avoided all other men because he was so special. He knew how to make a woman happy because he WAS a woman. Not genetically, but in his heart. He was a trannie, a crossdresser, and you are exactly like him.... There are lots of men like you sweetheart. Don't worry, it's normal in a way and there are lots, and lots, and lots of men who would pay any price to play with you. Would you like to be a woman totally, honey? Well, you can't be until you've been with a man and know how to make a man happy." I was stunned and terrified. It was all coming too fast. I thought she must be saying all this cuz she was so bombed from the drugs. I started to cry. "Oh huneeeeeyyyyy, don't cry. You're my special little man. You know exactly what to do to make Mommy happier than she's been in years. You know sooooo much. Especially in how well you know how to please a woman in bed. You're the best lover a girl could have. But it's time you learned what I had to teach your father. That as good as a pussy can be, there is absolutely nothing like hard cock. Once you get a taste of that sweetie, you'll be as hooked on men as I'm hooked on my bottle and my pills." I was shocked. How could she talk to me that way. I was a 15 yr. old boy! OK, so I liked to dress up in her clothes and wear makeup and style my hair. And yes, I do get more excited by Gina than I do by anything else, including mom's open legs and mouth and ass. But, how could she think I liked men? Yech!!!! Gross!!!! No way. She didn't mention it again. Instead, the pills had really kicked in and we were both flying high as kites. She asked me to put on a little fashion show for her. Mmmmm, I was feeling so horny. I made mom go downstairs while I took a bubble bath and luxuriated in the feeling of being the woman I dreamed of becoming. I had been shaving my legs and armpits for months now and took a long time making sure there wasn't a hair left on me from my eyebrows down. After I dried off, I rubbed Dune lotion all over my skin till it was creamy smooth and then I powdered my girlcock. I sat down and plucked my brows to a high thin arch and proceeded to do my face in an extremely heavily made-up way. I put on three coats of mascara. I wanted to look as vampy as possible that night. When I was done. I put on my favorite pink and white satin corset that pulls my waist down to 24 inches and pushes my hips and butt out into a really feminine form. I attached some of mom's Wolford lacetop stockings with a back seam and reinforced toe and heel to the garter tabs. When I stood up I almost swooned from the feel of the straps biting into my thighs and butt flesh as they pulled my stockings tight over my legs. Very retro. Very hot. I then pulled up a teensy sheer pink lace thong and tucked my tool in and down so there was no telltale bulge. I slipped on the matching bra and put my C cup silicone breastforms into the cups. (The ones I had found in with some old clothes in the closet. Now that I knew about dad, I understood where they came from and I wanted to cry, it felt so good to be so close to him.) Next came a full-skirted black chiffon, multi-layered, backless cocktail dress. It looked very Cuban, very fifties, and extremely hot and the finishing touch was a pair of 4" open toed strappy heels. One last look in the mirror and I knew I was ready to stun. I wasn't sure I could walk straight as I had never been this drunk before.... But I have to admit I felt divine and I felt divinely beautiful. I felt like I could melt any man or woman with one look. When I got downstairs Mom gasped and started shaking. She called me over to where she was seated. As I stood in front of her, she reached out and caressed my legs but she couldn't stop there. She snaked her way up my legs and freed my cock from its lacy confines and pulled me forward so she could give me the blowjob of my life. It didn't take 3 minutes before I poured my cream down Mom's hungry throat. I felt wonderful. We were still both very high and giggled like naughty schoolgirls. Within minutes, Mom had us both dressed to kill and out the door. Twenty minutes later, we were standing on the sidewalk in a well-known red light district. I was completely stunned when most of the girls came running over to find out how Mom was. And to ask where she'd been and how was she, etc. etc. When I asked what was going on, the girls just giggled and waited for mom to tell me how she and dad used to work this street as hookers. And then she announced how great it was to be back and to have a new trannie partner.... Me! I worked the streets with Mom for three years. We were the highest paid prostitutes in the city and the most well known. But I started to want to fall in love and so I left and went off on my own and left mom working King Street and here I am. Dreaming of my Markie and what I will wear tonight to make him want me. I think I'm in love and I will do anything to make him happy. Every man has a kink, every man has secret needs and wants. I know I'll discover his. Chapter 6 I spent most of that week in an alcoholic fog. I stayed up late drinking and woke up late with a headache not really remembering what I done the previous night. I went to work but couldn't stay focused. I'd miss appointments and cancel meetings. I was a total mess. All because I couldn't get Gina and her big throbbing love muscle out of my mind. I would relive the feeling of my cock pumping into her incredibly tight ass. I could feel her fingers grazing my skin. I could see her eyes looking at me with fire in them begging me to take her and make her the woman she craves being. After work, I would pick up one of my girlfriends and go out dancing and drinking and wind up back at their place and try to fuck them, but I couldn't get hard. The more I tried the smaller my dick got. I was really freaked out. I had never.... not once.... failed to be ready for the big event. After three dates on three nights, all turning out the same way, I gave up and just stayed home all alone drinking. I couldn't perform for them. I let them down. I was sure they were talking about me to their girlfriends and telling them that I must be a fag cuz I was impotent around them. Nothing they tried had gotten me hard... not sucking or hand jacking or kissing or watching porno flicks or having them do an erotic strip tease... nothing. I was a dud, no good to any girl who needed a good fucking. Yet late at night, when I was sufficiently drunk.... when, by all rights, I shouldn't have even been functional, those erotic thoughts of Gina crept back into my mind and I would immediately go hard in a fit of overwhelming physical need that I'd never imagined before, let alone experienced. Nothing would satisfy it or let it go down until I had relieved myself in a paroxysm of tormented, filthy lust with my mind filled with images of Gina in the skimpiest, frilliest, sexiest, lingerie imaginable. I'd see her right there in front of me and she was so real that I could smell her and taste her and almost touch her and when I did, her honey, golden skin would ripple with pleasure and her flat little titties would balloon out to overflow her bra and I would get hard and all I could do was to free my cock from my satin pajama covered crotch and slowly, lightly tickle it and stroke it as if she were doing it.... Full of love and tender lust for me. And then I'd cum. I would cum so hard and so fiercely and shoot so much spray that I would black out only to find my hands and crotch and stomach and balls and cock covered with dried crusty jism early the next morning and I would groggily stretch out and feel so much contentment that when I would try to reach out beside me to wrap my arms around her and pull her soft tight ass to my crotch, I would wake up fully and cry out in dismay and pain and loneliness because the one person in the world that I needed wasn't there. Why? Well, because I was too proud to admit that I was gay and I loved girlcock and I needed her hardness in my mouth and in my hands and her soft smooth ass nestled into my crotch and her long languid arms wrapped around my neck and her long painted nails running through my hair and scratching my back and butt and thighs as she pulled me frantically against her in the middle of a deep, dark, soul-searingly satisfying fuck. It was no use. I couldn't keep away. I needed to be with her. I wanted to see her. I wanted to love her and make love to her. I wanted all of my friends to see her and be jealous of me for having her, for being with her, for having her nibble my neck and stick her tongue in my ear and reach her perfectly manicured hand for my cock, and all the while having them stare dumbfounded with horny male want and desire and need and lust. And I wanted the two of us to laugh at the fact that they would be jealous of me and lusting after my "girl" and want me to share her with them the way I used to share all of my girlfriends yet all the while knowing how incredulous their shock would be at reaching for her furry pussy only to find an enormous and scalding hot cock. I would have to contact her tomorrow and confirm our date. I couldn't wait now. It was all I could do to keep from breaking down her door and ravaging her in her bed. Chapter 7 Now you know why I couldn't wait to escape from my mother to be myself and lead my own life and become the girl next door. The whole week went by so quickly. I was quite dizzy. Everyday after work I'd rush home to see if I had heard from Mark or try to catch him as he went into his apartment, but always, there was nothing. I was beginning to worry that he was feeling guilty and was having second thoughts about being with me. But I was also incredibly horny just thinking about him. Every night, I would put on one of my nighties and lie in bed face down with a pillow under my waist and my favorite vibrator throbbing in my bum, thinking of Marky and me and how our date would be. I could never stop myself from cumming several times. Ass cums allow multiple cums to occur in boys, just like girls, and they would build in me until I had to cum with my cock too and soil myself and my nightie. I just love the feel of cum cooling on my skin and being swished around my stomach and thighs by the movement of my nightgown. I love the way it cools and feels thick and sticky and then slowly crusts. I also love the nutty smell of spunk after it is a day or so old. Mmmmmmmmmmm. I am such a cum-slut. Finally, as Friday evening approached, I was a bundle of nerves. I kept thinking of my Marky all the time. I thought it was odd that he didn't call or stop by. Nor did I even hear him in his apartment. Hadn't he liked our hot little session? Didn't he want me anymore? Wasn't I cute enough? Or was he ashamed that he liked it so much? I know I am good. All those years on the street with countless men every night. I learned every trick in the book on pleasing my man. And I know Marky has never had such good sex before. For once, I didn't notice any other guy on my evening jogs. But I wanted to run into Mark there in the park, I wanted to run in my girly peach gym shorts and stop in front of him and snake my arms around his neck and pull his lips down to mine and grind my tummy into his cock and make him want to cum right there in his pants in the park. When I got home that night, I stripped off my track pants on our floor and waited there in my cream blouse and peach gym shorts. The black thong showed through the thin material of my shorts and my ass cheeks were peeking out the back. I waited a long time but no Marky. Oh well, we were supposed to meet tomorrow. Oh.... I do so hope he'll show up. I really need to get fucked. One of the down sides to going straight after being a whore is that you get used to the constant fucking and you get horny when you don't have it. And man was I aching for cock. I really needed a hot throbbing stiffie pounding my ass till I came. I was tired of my plastic. I was so horny I almost got out my hooker clothes to go cruising for some meat but I resisted. I wanted to be a good girl. So I bathed and fixed dinner and even watched my diet that night. Only salad and pasta. And I went to sleep early but as I was going to my bedroom I noticed the note that had been pushed under my door. I opened it. It was from Mark and he DID want to see me again..... tomorrow. I was sooooooooo excited that I could barely sleep. Well, I admit that I DID get to sleep finally. But only with my ass filled by my strap in butt-plug. Mmmmmmmm, it felt so nice to drift off feeling full. I had so much to do the next day, I don't know how I got it all done. I wanted to look spectacular for my baby. First of all, I made sure I got enough beauty sleep the night before. When I woke up, I did my morning stretches and exercise and then showered. Then slipped into my short white chiffon bath robe which I adore. It is so soft and feminine and I love the ruffled hem and collar. I feel so sexy in it and I know that the white against my golden skin and long streaked hair is incredibly erotic. Then I realized that we would end up the evening back home so I made a few changes to enhance the mood for hot sex. I went so far as to change the drapes: From my plain lace white ones that look femme and girly, to a fabulous red shade in chiffon to make my room look more like a whore's room. Men love their women to be whores in the bedroom and I wanted Marky to be seduced without even being aware of my tricks. Then I put my red satin sheets on the bed. And I put perfumed white and red candles all over the place which I'd light before he could enter the room. I got dressed for the day and departed. I left to go to my hairdresser's and have my hair re- streaked and my nails done. I love Jackie and the magic she performs. I am her only trannie customer and I think she has the hots for me and wants to get me in bed. She's always suggesting new styles or colors and always wants to give me facials and manicures for free. She says it turns her on knowing that she can make a boy look hotter than most of her female clients yet still have the equipment to make her happy in bed. Most of her gg clients don't want to look hot. They don't want men to look at them and get hard and want to fuck them. Not me. That's what I live for. And Jackie knows the look I want and gets me there. But she has been most proper. She's very professional and she'd never make a pass at a customer. Only once did she let her hand graze my girlcock beneath my tight short skirt. She smiled to herself when she found out that her styling and makeup skills got me hard. I know she watched me through the two way mirror that she put up in the restrooms when I excused myself to go for a quick wank and cum while reading her Playgirl magazines. I know it cuz she would be flushed and breathing hard and very flustered when I returned to the styling chair for her to comb out my perm. I would be calm and feeling all floaty the way I always do after a massive cum but she would be very edgy and sweaty and she'd keep looking into my eyes with longing. Every time she works her beautician's magic on me, she wants to get on her knees to suck me and then beg me to fuck her pussy really hard till she cums all over me. Anyway, I know what you're thinking, and you're right. Yes, I am an incorrigible sex-queen. I can't help it. I told you that just the smell of makeup gets me hot. It's from my youth, standing in front of Mommy, who would suck me off while I gazed at and smelled all of her makeup on the vanity behind her bent head when she took her little boy to heaven every afternoon. And the smell of hair salons makes me incredibly horny. Every time I go there, the sights and smells make me feel desperate for a nice, sweet, releasing, cum. You can guess how much I wanted to make Marky happy when I tell you that I resisted the urge to wank off this time and I was able to get in and out and back home with all of my precious sweet cum still in my soft little balls. So I went into my room to get ready for my date. And I'm sure you want to know everything a girl does to get ready for an important date with a dreamboat hunk. Jackie had done my nails in a nice shade of plum red which I knew would go well with my new lipstick. I had purchased it knowing that it was one of those stay-on kinds. You know, where you can kiss and ki