Jane's Addiction free porn video

Jane's Addiction I met Jane in the middle of 1991, just after my return from Desert Storm. My wife had contacted her for some information about a horse she saw in a newspaper ad, and during the initial phone call they got along so well that we were invited out to her place. She lived out in a rice- farming area of a mostly agricultural county, which meant lots of mosquitoes. We went to visit, and after introductions Jane and my wife started talking about horses, which led me to begin my daydreaming. You see, I am/was a cross-dresser (along with a few other fetishes), and at that time, a fairly active one. When my wife and I initially started getting serious, I was honest with her about it, because I knew that there was no way I could live my life without it. I had read a lot of erotic, as well as clinical information on the subject, and was fairly convinced I knew the dynamics of it all. Jane looked to be of Hispanic descent, with very large, dark eyes, and long, raven black hair. She was a little overweight, but that had never put me off about women. She had a Mexican boyfriend who seemed nice enough up front. I don't know what it was, but something in my mind really started humming. Jane had that classic dominatrix look to her. Even without makeup. To someone like me, that was a real attraction. She smoked (a side fetish of mine....I don't smoke but I love to see women do it), but nothing over the top. Flashback: I remember the early days of our relationship (my wife and I). She actually got into my whole crossdressing gig. It was a whole routine we would do. I am a lover of stiletto heels, long fingernails, and pouty lips, and, while she didn't have a lot of experience in her life previously wearing any of these things, she has the soul of an artist and is very creative. She was able to do my fetish makeup, as well as her own. And make it her own. How I wished I could make it my own. She took to makeup as if it had been made for her. When I started pressuring her to color her hair, she did. When I asked her to smoke for me, she didn't understand it, but she did it anyway, and reaped the rewards of my extra attentions. She was going to college at the time, and had been gradually changing her look. All her friends thought it was fantastic, and I got so turned on seeing a farmer's daughter become a real sexy vixen. I even dared her to smoke in front of her friends at her college, which she did. How I wished I could have been there that day. Her long nails and makeup absolutely drove me wild. My wife did not understand the control over me she had no matter how hard I tried to show her. When I dressed, I was trying to serve her. I wanted to be the maid of a sexy, dominant woman. I knew that I wanted her to determine how I would look and act. And she tried to play the game, but just never could. Over the next few months, Jane and my wife got to be really good friends. My wife really wanted to get a horse, and we had to keep it at Jane's farm. All my wife cared about was the horse, so my crossdressing dried up. We had some emotional discussions about things, and she was not afraid to discuss her displeasure of me with Jane. I guess Jane took that as her cue to really start making my life a living hell. She made sure that all my spare time was occupied with my wife's hobby. On one hand, I was very angry that she made these demands of my wife (ergo me). On the other hand, the submissive CD in me was just a bit titillated at being dominated by her in this way. She radiated dominance, and all I could do was fantasize about her seeing the same look in my eye that I saw in hers. By this time my wife had really lost interest in my crossdressing, so I tried to do a little vicarious living by having her done up the way I would want to be. And trying to get her to be the wanton slut I so desired to be. She could get the look down, but never the attitude. I don't know why, but this took some of the edge off my crossdressing desires. After a year or so, Jane decided she was going to cosmetology school. She and my wife had played around with makeup, hair, and nails at various times, and Jane had alluded to a past in which she "glammed" up quite frequently, a far cry from the unglamorous farm girl she was now. Jane also decided that she would use my wife to practice on. Holy cow! A dominatrix beautician practicing on a girl (my wife) who could make any look work. Why, oh why was I born a guy? I was soooo hoping she would get to the eventual cliche conversation of practicing on me. But, as her boyfriend was a mucho macho Latino, she could not even suggest this. The results of her schooling were almost immediately evident. Over the next few months, she started doing makeovers on my wife, sometimes simple ones, and sometimes very elaborate ones. She experimented with hair color and nails; the entire time I was just going crazy. And she was still treating me like shit for being the terrible person my wife had made me out to be. So I didn't get the full benefit of these times. There was one time when my wife had been put on 5 days bed rest for an illness. She couldn't go to work, so Jane invited her to stay over for the 5 days. She would take care of my wife while I was working. At the time, my job involved not only 8 hrs a day, but also service calls on nights and weekends, so I worked a lot of hours some weeks. Jane got bored and decided to do another makeover of my wife. This was one of those days that I ended up working 18 hrs. I was mad because Jane wanted me to stop by my house and pick up some clothes for my wife. After 18 hrs working, I was in no mood to extend my day another hour to get some clothes for my wife. When I walked in the door, it was obvious Jane had put in a lot of time and effort on my wife that day. To say I was stunned just didn't express it enough. To say that I heard my jaw hit the floor is a little more accurate. There she was with platinum blonde hair, dark makeup, and long nails painted to match her lips (for you sticklers, the lipstick and nail polish was Revlon Blackberry, the older Blackberry which is darker than what they're currently selling). Flashback: There was a period after I left the military that I lived in a teeny- weeny apartment by myself. I spent serious money on mail-order items, including 5 inch strappy stilettos and 5 inch fuck-me pumps. I had discovered, through an old girlfriend, some glue-on nails that were straight, with a slight taper. They extended at least 3/4" past my fingertips. I would shave, put on my foundation garments, stockings, and whatever dress I was wearing. Then my makeup and jewelry, a ritual I thoroughly enjoyed. I affixed my long flame red wig upon my head, put on my shoes, and awaited the part I enjoyed the most...my nails. Once I glued my nails on, that was it. I was "imprisoned" in my finest, sluttiest, garb for at least 12 hours. Due to the nature of the CA (superglue), I had to wait 12 hours or so before the glue deteriorated enough that I could break the joint. My lipstick, usually, was Revlon's Cherries in the Snow, a lipstick that was not easy to get off. It dyed your lips, something I really enjoyed. Going to work the day after a night of this, I usually always was questioned about my lips. What the nails prevented was my being able to undo the small buckles on the straps of my shoes. It prevented me from handling the garter tabs for my stockings. It prevented me from handling the zippers on my dresses. I loved the feeling of being trapped in my clothing that way. Well....initially I felt trapped. After I accumulated a few hours wearing these nails, I could do anything in them. Eventually, I was doing all my household chores with them on: washing dishes, vacuuming, making beds, etc. After those experiences, when my wife complained about her long nails, I knew better. If I could adapt, certainly she could. Blackberry was my second favorite lipstick. As a matter of fact, the Blackberry liner with Cherries in the Snow on top made a very interesting combination for my lips. And with my nails on, I would practice my smoking in a feminine way, moving around, and just otherwise be as girly as I could. Because I was "trapped" I usually had to sleep with everything on. Didn't really bother me. I relished the small amount of pain from the heels as part of what it was to be feminine. I accepted the additional trouble the nails caused because that's what I wanted. I relished seeing my lip prints on a wine glass because that was only something a female would do. Only a few people knew I was a CD. No one knew what I did in my apartment. Anyway....I walked in to see my wife looking like Gwen Stefani, only at the time, I didn't know anything about Gwen Stefani. My God she was hot. It was all I could do to keep from taking advantage of her right then and there. Jane noticed the bulge I had and made some sort of offhand comment. Jane had spent a lot of time on herself as well. She had colored her raven black hair flame red (I am VERY partial to redheads). She had long nails, and had done her makeup and nail polish very dark. Her lipstick was a very dark plum color, almost black. She hated any red colors (I would find out later), and really enjoyed dark ones. Black too. For a CD like me, this was almost heaven. It was all I could do to not ask her to do me up right then and there. I wanted to take my wife home right then and there, but Jane would have none of it as my wife was still on bed rest. We ended up sleeping in her son's bed. My wife would not let me touch her. Jeez. Over the next several months, Jane and my wife became best friends. Jane still gave me a hard time, mostly about how I wasn't attuned to my wife's needs and desires (meaning I wasn't spending enough money or time on my wife). She continued to do makeovers on my wife, and any feedback I gave was "let's make it wilder." I had contemplated asking my wife to share my secret with Jane. When I finally got the courage to approach my wife with this, she put her foot down. Nothing doing. Which, to me, meant she really didn't approve of my "hobby" despite the cooperation she gave me and the fun times we had? I began to turn my attentions in other directions. I had discovered the whole BBS thing several months earlier. I had huge phone bills from downloading stories and pictures about crossdressing from these BBS's. Through a BBS I met a submissive transvestite in a town about 120 miles away. Nikki was her name. I could get Nikki to do all the stuff I wanted my wife to do/wanted to do myself. Interesting psychological ramifications here. Nikki was sweet. She was willing to wear the nails, and lipstick. I gave her a pair of my fuck-me pumps that I had mistakenly ordered a size smaller than I wear. She wore them for me. She learned to smoke in a feminine way for me. She talked dirty to me over the phone, and even sent videotapes of herself going through the entire process of dress-up and play. I was only able to visit her once, and when I did it was exquisite. I had her greet me at the door wrapping her arms around my neck and looking up to kiss me. She was wearing a very nice floral dress that just screamed "female." Listening to her heels tip-tap across the floor drove me wild. Once again, I was living vicariously through another person. Nikki and I had a lot of fun that single visit. I was feeling a bit guilty for not only seeing another "woman" but for putting Nikki through the gyrations I had, just so I could see someone else do what I wanted to do. Nikki got mad at me and disconnected. I haven't heard from her since, and I don't blame her. Jane was progressing nicely through her beauty school. She was a natural at it, and the wilder the style or look, the more she liked it. She looked forward to graduating so she could open her own business. However, her Latino boyfriend didn't like the idea of her working. Like Jane was making my life difficult, her boyfriend was making hers impossible. Eventually she quit the school. Before Jane quit, she did my wife up one more time. My wife and I rented a cabin on a mountaintop, and I had planned on getting her drunk and turning it into a wild, kinky, fuckfest. I had talked her into getting made up as wild as she had ever been. Jane did the hair and makeup, and I brought the nails. Jane looked at me odd when I produced them for my wife, but she put them on my wife and did the thing she does. Wow, was my wife hot! I really wished we could change places but I knew that wasn't about to happen. My wife had the longest nails she had ever dared to wear (at least an inch past her fingertips). We had a wild weekend. I placed her into so many scenarios I wished someone would put me in. My wife has a knack for being able to pull off any look. Doesn't matter what the color or style, she can make it uniquely hers....as long as she has the confidence. My encouragement usually gives her the confidence. I can only say I wish I had taken pictures. A few months after that, Jane decided to move. She found some acreage about 40 miles from where she was. My wife demanded I help, so I got some resources from where I work, and asked a couple of my friends to help. The way I was being treated, I don't know why I did. Maybe I was still hoping she would figure me out. We spent a lot of time helping her move, and I didn't get one thank you. I didn't mind being a slave as long as I got my enjoyment out of it (the slavery altruists will laugh at that one). Over the next few months I kept pressuring my wife to look wild. Jane kept pressuring my wife to get us to drive out to her place every day (a 70 mile round trip). I was tired of spending every single evening after work at her house. The environment was just plain bad. Eventually, one day she and my wife had a big fight. We got our horse and left. I was upset at losing the whole potential crossdressing side of it, but I was relieved to get that kind of negative influence out of our lives. Reacquaint After a few more months things were somewhat ok. My wife and I were finally able to buy our own place out in the country. I was hoping to resume my dressing activities where I could actually go outside without fear of getting caught. The concrete floor of our garage and driveway was an excellent runway for me to practice walking in heels. And there is no better sound than listening to heels tap across a hard surface. My wife was somewhat cold to my "hobby" so I didn't do it much. We were in this kind of co-dependency thing where I couldn't really feel comfortable unless she was in to it. Without us really trying. My wife became pregnant with our first child. She was afraid to have sex while she was pregnant, and after a few weeks I was going out of my mind. No dressing. No sex. What was I going to do? She started having me rub her belly literally for hours, so I started having her talk dirty to me while I was rubbing her belly. And by talk dirty, I mean I would sketch a scenario about my fantasies and she would fill it in. After a couple of months of this, I was sketching scenarios that I fantasized about and had never told her about. Extremes regarding piercing and tattooing, my being a total whore, surgery, shaving my head, her having a cock and my worshipping it...stuff like that. Stuff that she had never been exposed to in her entire life. I guess I was just desperate. I was feeling the "pressure" that all of us feel. Little did I know that she was just going along. Little did I know that the more bizarre I got, the more disgusted she became. The baby was born - a son. Everyone was healthy. Couldn't be happier about it. I had started to put my desires behind me for the sake of raising a family. And trust me - I have read all about the shipwrecks involving CD/TVs and their SOs and family, and how things fell apart. I didn't know how I would face that, but I would give it an honest effort when the time came. Six months later my wife gets a letter from Jane (it had been about 2 years since the fight). She misses her and wants to make up (you know...the 'I'm sorry' type of make up). Well, I was fairly content with the way things were, but I couldn't help thinking about Jane and her look. She could make up her eyes in a way that would make you just bow down and kiss her feet. My wife writes back to her and gives her our phone number. A week later a phone call. A week after that a visit is scheduled. Jane shows up on a Saturday. I go out to greet her and am blown away. Her raven black hair is all the way down to the middle of her back in a soft wavy perm. Her nails are long. Her makeup is perfect; very dark and glamorous. She has lost some weight and is wearing some revealing clothing. This combined with her look just screams "fuck me." My wife pops out, they greet each other, go into the house and yack for a while. Of course, all I can think about is her making me up and dominating me. Jane has gotten back into beauty school. She has also moved to a different place with a lot more acreage, but is now living in a house trailer. Still with the same boyfriend. She is not afraid to talk about how uptight he is. Over the next few weeks, Jane and my wife get together more and more. Jane wants to makeover my wife again. My wife had let her hair go back to its original mousey-brown color, and Jane could not stand that (neither could I for that matter). We have to go up to her school to get my wife's hair done. While we're there, Jane makes a comment about how I need to get my ears pierced. Had she finally figured me out after all this time? No, she just needs the experience. My wife is uncomfortable, but I take Jane up on it. I always wanted to get my ears pierced. Actually, my fantasies always have me with at least 3 holes in each ear. Jane went ahead (on my suggestion) and colored my wife's hair a flame red color. Wow, my wife can be hot when she wants to be. Sitting in that beauty school, watching all the activities go on around me, it was all I could do to not jump and declare who I was, and that I wanted all the same attentions as the other women in the place. This led to the next crisis in our lives. My 30th birthday was just around the corner. Most of my dreaming about my future that I had done dealt with my eventually getting to the point I could live as a man or a woman. I wanted to work on making myself passable and presentable. I was willing to throw whatever resources I needed to into it. Having a kid changed the outlook a bit. I decided that if I was going to express myself fully, I needed to get it done before my child got old enough to realize what was going on with Daddy. I talked with my wife about this, and wanted her to help me get Jane to assist me in "expressing myself." My wife would have none of it. We got into a big fight and she told me that she had only told me she would let me crossdress just to snag me. She also was totally disgusted by some of the fantasy stuff I had her talk about while I was rubbing her belly when she was pregnant. This totally devastated me. One of the foundations of our relationship was a fraud (purists, moralists...please...this is my story). She also looked at something that was so much a part of me as disgusting. I honestly did not know what I was going to do. I eventually called Jane on my own. I explained to her I was a crossdresser and I was interested in retaining her services as a professional beautician. She started asking some questions so I explained some of the psychological dynamics, some of the compulsions involved. When she seemed receptive, I told her about the influence she had on my fantasies. I told her about how I thought she looked, and that she could make a lot more money as a professional dominatrix. She had the look and the attitude. People like me would pay an awful lot of money for that. Jane admitted to me that she was interested. It turned out, after long discussions, that there was a side of her that she had suppressed for a very long time. She was bisexual, a nymphomaniac, a dominant, and addicted to sex. She loved looking and acting wild, and having attention drawn to her. Because she loved her boyfriend, and had a child with him, she suppressed herself for a long time. She was getting tired of being someone else though. She was getting tired of his macho Latino bullshit always trying to repress her. She did let me know that he was hung like a horse, though. That was a motivating factor for her. Well, I basically bared my soul to her. She was sympathetic, but concerned about my wife. Tensions were getting somewhat high between them, mainly because of Jane's domineering personality (she liked to make everyone do things the way she wanted them done). With the damage done so far between my wife and me, I no longer cared about how she felt. I was driven to pursue my hobby and maybe get it out of my bloodstream for a while. A few days after that Jane stayed at our house for something while her boyfriend took her car home (a 45 minute drive). My wife and I had been arguing about my revealing myself to Jane, and she was truly freaked out. She was even more freaked out when I told Jane about some of the shoes I had, and Jane asked if I could model them for her. I ran in the bedroom, put on my stockings and a skirt (still with my male upper half) and started putting on shoes. When I walked into our living room, the look on my wife's face was extraordinary....she looked to be giving birth to a cow. Jane made some admiring comments and talked about me to my wife as if my wife had me doing this every day. To my wife's credit, she played along as well as she could. Since Jane's boyfriend had taken her car, my wife offered that I would drive her home. Unseen by my wife, Jane winked at me and kissed at me. This will be an interesting drive, but I did have to change back to my male shoes and jeans. I had a full-size pickup with a bench seat, so there was lots of room in the cab. We got in the truck and headed down the road, and before I even got off the dirt road, Jane asked me what I was thinking. "In what context?" I replied "Don't fuck with me. I want to hear what you're thinking girl." She looked at me hard, with a knowing smile on her face. "I am very horny right now." I looked at her and smiled "I am thinking what it would be like to be on my knees in front of you, strands of my long, red hair in my face, my long nails caressing your cock and balls, seeing my lipstick rings on your cock when I take it into my mouth, and feeling my earrings swinging back and forth as I move your shaft in and out of my throat. How's that?" "Oh my god!!!" she screamed as an orgasm took her. "How did you know I always wanted to have a cock?" "I didn't. I always thought about a strap-on for you, but never a real cock. Wow, you sure come easily." She closed her eyes for a few seconds, then looked at me with her hypnotic stare "Picture this missy...you are on your back with your legs around me while I fuck you hard. You are spurring me in the back with the heels you are wearing. My nails are long and curved like a cat, and I am digging in to you and scratching your body while I fuck you. After I come in your pussy, I pull out, sit on your chest and piss all over you. Just like a cat, I am marking my territory." I almost wrecked my truck. "That's a very vivid image. Wow, it sounds great" I said. She looked at me concerned "You don't mind the pissing-all-over-you part?" "No. I could probably do almost anything depending on the circumstances." "How about the cat thing?" "Not a problem. I find that very erotic. You know I like long nails" I said. "That's good" she said "because it will probably happen that way." "Huh?" "Keep driving" she said as she moved over next to me. "You ever finger- fucked anyone before?" "Yes." "Here's an opportunity to do it again." She grabbed my right hand and put it down in her panties. I knew what to do from there. We got to do a few rides together like that, always ending up with us making out pretty heavy, her giving me a blowjob, or my finger-fucking her. Never any full-blown sex. She would always talk to me like I was her bitch and I would talk just like I was...bitch. Her nympho ways meant she actually orgasmed while sucking on a penis, which just astounded me. I mean, I had read about such things, but to actually see it happen was wonderful. After she graduated from beauty school, she worked in a few shops for other people. We had, on a few occasions, had the chance to sneak looks, or talk over the phone. She could do a perfect phone sex voice when she wanted to, and I was the eager recipient. She would call my wife, and if I answered the phone she would launch into her sexiest voice, describing what she would do with "her little girl." She knew all my buttons to push. We had a great time during this period. Jane eventually bought her own shop. She called upon my wife (ergo me) for assistance because the pipes had frozen and ruptured, and her good for nothing boyfriend didn't know anything about fixing ruptured pipes. So we spent a few late nights getting everything going. She did my wife up a lot because she knew it was torture on me. My wife knew that I loved her getting all done up, and that I was really turned on, but she would not let me touch her afterwards. This was deliberate. She felt I was not doing enough for her, even though all our spare time and income was going towards horses and Jane. The company I worked for eventually got some work up near Jane's shop, so I would take advantage of any service call to go see her. If she had customers she would make me just sit and wait like I was a customer. She loved manipulating me. If she hadn't put her makeup on yet, she would slowly go through the entire ritual making sure that I was watching. If she already had it on, she would do something like refresh her lipstick, or light a cigarette. She knew exactly what she was doing. We had a game that under certain circumstance I could not touch her but she could touch me. She used that fully to her advantage...the look of her eyes, the smell of her lipstick, the touch of a long nail...I just could not resist her at all. She started just having me jack off and eating my cum. She wanted more. For a Christmas present I bought her a vibrator. She burned out the motor within a week. I ordered a lifelike dildo (with testicles) from a specialty company. It had a suction cup on the bottom that she could secure to a hard surface. She would make me watch while she fucked herself with it. Sometimes when I would call her on the phone, she would have the dildo stuck to the toilet seat cover and be fucking herself with it. I could hear the squish sounds over the phone. I was not allowed to touch her at all. When she had a slow time, she would lock the door and put makeup on me. She wanted me to commit to being the girl she knew I was inside. I eventually ended up bringing my shoes and some of my clothes to her shop. She bought a long, red wig for me, and she let me use some of the jewelry she had on sale in her shop. I loved having pierced ears. And I would attempt to suck her dildo. I did enjoy seeing my lip prints on the monster. Jane always would talk about having a real cock when I did that. She would always talk about fucking me. For a long time we never had a chance to go very far with this. Well...I could never take it as far as I wanted. There was either not enough time to do it up right, or a customer was coming, or I had to go. One day I was complaining about it and she sat me down in her chair, and looked right at me with her intoxicating eyes. "Young lady, you will stop your bitching and start carrying yourself like the person you are....my bitch slave. You will do what I tell you when I tell you to do it. Disobey and I will beat the shit out of you. Do you understand me?" "Yes maam." I meekly replied. "That's good. From now on you will answer to Bridget. That is my name for you. It's girly enough for you." "Yes maam." "Sit still. I want to do your eyebrows." I almost panicked because Jane's eyebrows were very thin and arched, in that evil female way. No way I wanted mine like that. Fortunately for me, my eyebrows are mostly blonde, so once she waxed and plucked them they didn't really stand out. I just had to be able to explain why my forehead was red from the waxing. I kept my legs shaved so I was spared that pain. She made up my face in a different way this time. Being fair-complected I am used to pale foundation, and that my eyebrows are light so they don't stand out. She used a dark foundation and blackened my eyebrows. My eye shadow, blush, and lipstick were dark as well. I looked like I had a deep tan, at least on my face. My hands certainly gave it away when I held them up, but Jane seemed satisfied. "You look like a completely different woman. This is definitely interesting. I wonder if you could look like me. Wouldn't that be hot?" I knew that it would not work as our basic bone structure was different enough that we couldn't do it at all. It was an interesting idea, and it must have turned her on because she was breathing heavily. She then had me take my clothes off, and wearing nothing but a bra and thong, she ordered me to a tanning bed for a bit. I am fair-skinned and sunburn very easily. There is no way I wanted this (though tan lines did appeal to me). What would my wife say? A few more months went by. She was having me take more chances when I showed up. It was a wonder I didn't get fired from my job because I spent so much time there. She was buying panties and stockings for me. She wanted me to wear them all the time under my male clothes. What would my wife think? I had a stock of female clothes at home, and occasionally I would put something on, but I nothing as daring as the items Jane was getting for me and forcing me to wear. All the panties were thongs. She would inspect me when I showed up at her shop to see if I was wearing the designated items. And if it was a thong she wanted the floss buried in my butt crack so far that she could not see it. I have to admit I enjoyed the stimulation. My toenails were always polished and I did have a visible tan line (though not very visible). It shows you how great the relationship was between my wife and I that she didn't notice most of this stuff. My wife and I showed up one day as part of another "mandatory" trip. Jane made up my wife, but then called me over to sit down. I had just had a haircut so I wondered what was happening. She pulled out her ear- piercing gun and asked my wife "how many?" My wife looked surprised, then disgusted, and said "I don't care." Jane put a second set of studs in my ears. Wow. I was stunned. I believe my wife was angry, like she thought Jane and I had planned this. I was able to wear small hoops in my older holes with the studs in these holes. I absolutely loved it! And no one questioned me about it at all. I could not wait for the new holes to heal so I could wear combinations of earrings. A couple of weeks later Jane presented me with a dual set of large and medium size golden hoops that she wanted me to wear for her. I was so happy, but I wanted more. I would call Jane a lot to just be dominated by her. She would have me do things like jack off and eat my own cum. She would have me buy gay literature for her in adult bookstores. She would have me put all my earrings on and go into some of the local "alternative" lifestyle establishments. I was scared shitless, but so turned on at the same time. I used up a lot of minutes on calling cards, and also made the mistake of using the calling card for my home phone. When my wife started seeing the larger phone bills, she started asking questions. Jane had recently bought a computer and I had been doing a lot of work on it for her. She was an internet neophyte and was constantly surfing porn sites and picking up all kinds of viruses and spyware. That's what I used as an excuse. Jane had not shared my secret with anyone specifically. She had (so she claimed) told my story anonymously to friends on the internet. Recently, she hired a girl to work with her. Tracy was tall, blonde, a somewhat overweight girl that had a fairly decent imagination. Her husband was cheating on her, and she talked all kinds of shit about fooling around on him, but when it came down to it she didn't have the balls to do anything about it. Sound familiar? Just wait. I showed up at Jane's shop one day, as always wearing the lacey underthings she demanded. Tracy was there and they both were just chatting as they had no appointments scheduled. Tracy looks at me and says "I hear you want to be a girl." "Well, I like dressing as one" I said, surprised. "And acting like one" she says. "I hear you're a real slut." "Who told you that?" "Jane did. She says you do anything she says. You wear whatever she wants you to." I look at Jane somewhat hurt. I never intended for any of this to go beyond she and I. Jane glares back at me and says "Bridget, show Tracy your underthings. Go in the bathroom and take your man clothes off and put some heels on. I want her to see." This is an order I cannot turn down. I am so scared, yet so turned on. While I am in the bathroom changing, I can hear them talking. Tracy obviously didn't believe a word of what Jane had told her. When I start out, and Tracy hears the tip-tap of my stilettos on the floor, I hear her exclaim "No way!" I walk across the shop in my 5 inch heels as only someone who has spent a fair amount of time in them can, and strike a pose. "Holy shit!" escapes Tracy's mouth. She looks at Jane and says "what's he look like with the rest of the stuff on?" "Pretty decent. She'd look a lot better if she would let me do more to her. She's chicken." Tracy, surprised, "I've never worn heels that high. She walks in them sexier than I walk in low heels." "She's had lots of practice." said Jane. "Go back and put your normal clothes on. I've got an appointment coming." "Yes maam." I go back to the bathroom and start taking off the shoes. Jane's phone rings and she answers it. Tracy follows me over. "I never thought you would do that" she says. "Yeah, well...it's fun." That's all I could think to say. "And you have tan lines?" she asked. "More like sunburn lines. She's made me spend some time in the tanning bed." Then Tracy surprised me "It's hard to resist her isn't it? She can get kind of bossy. She told me you like long fingernails and to watch women smoke. That kind of turns me on." "It does?" "Yes it does. As a matter of fact, she has talked me into getting a set of nails later today. She and I are going to a club tonight." "Wow. That's sounds cool. Any idea how you're going to do your nails?" "Well, how do you like them?" "About an inch past your fingertips. Slightly tapered with a not-too- sharp squared off end." "Well, that's the way I'll get them" she said. All I could think was holy cow! The next day, my wife mentioned that we needed to make a trip to see Jane, and it was all I could do not to jump. I could not wait to see Jane and Tracy both because I knew that they had been out most of the night clubbing and that they would still be wearing "residual" glam. We got to Jane's shop and they were talking about what fun they had the previous night. Both Jane and Tracy had an identical set of long fingernails. Same color, same decoration. Wow. Tracy lit up a cigarette and starting smoking in the most feminine way I had ever seen, using her nails and lips to the greatest advantage teasing me. Funny thing is my wife never noticed, even though she knew how it turned me on. When my wife got up and went to the restroom, Tracy came over to me, along with Jane, and blew smoke in my face. She asked me what I thought and I told her I was speechless really. She said she was glad I liked the show because she and Jane decided that I would be doing the exact same show for them. Tracy was hot. She had the whole delicate feminine long fingernail thing down better than Jane. Jane tried to hook us up, but had told me Tracy didn't have the courage to really do anything. Tracy left Jane's employment after a few more days and went back to her cheating husband, as predicted. I haven't seen her since, but always wondered what she was capable of. Jane and I started spending more time together. When we saw each other, I was always wearing my frilly lingerie, and she was always heavily made up. She got into wearing clunky heels and being dominant. I wanted her to wear stiletto heels and be dominant. In any case, she knew what buttons of mine to push, and I knew hers. Interestingly enough, we never had what you might call "straight" sex. She loved giving blowjobs, and I obliged her. She would let me watch her fuck herself with the lifelike dildo I got her, and when I was all dressed up (more and more often) she would let me lick her dildo clean after she finished with it. She would not let me fuck her or eat her out, both of which I was dying to do. She always commented about fucking me, her "bitch." It had never happened. I had never had anything larger than a finger put in my "pussy" before, and as rough as she wanted it, I was honestly worried if I could be what she wanted me to be. One day we had started playing dress-up in her shop, where she totally went overboard on makeup and nails. My nails were at least 1 inch long and curved, in a dark golden color. My hair was strawberry blonde and wild. I was wearing a black catsuit that exposed my "body" in key areas. While I never felt I had a feminine figure, Jane always encouraged me, so I felt hot and sexy (a corset and breast forms helped). I had just put on my 5 inch fuck-me pumps with the gold metal heels and was admiring myself in the mirror when she said "okay, let's go." We had never done anything like this before. "Get your purse. We're going out." "G-g-going out? I can't do that. Not like this." "Yes, we are. I left some things at my house and we have to go get them. I can't leave you here at the shop alone." She threw a short skirt at me. "I'll let you cover your butt." The catsuit was crotchless - my cock just hung out in the air. Normally I had a gaff. "No one in this county or in the surrounding counties for that matter, looks or dresses like this. We are going to draw a lot of attention" I said. "You're right" she laughed. "You better hope we don't get pulled over." We endure the drive to her house. It's about 35 miles. Jane makes it worse by taking a very circuitous route, and making me tease male drivers that we go past. She got so turned on that at a stop light we started making out and that really got us honked at. I am winking at people, blowing kisses, and putting the end of my fingernail on my lip in some come-hither manner. She makes me smoke long, feminine, cigarettes the entire time we are on the road. We stop at a fast food place for something to drink because my throat is getting dry doing all the smoking for her. She makes me order the drinks in my "Bridget" voice, which is something I've worked on for quite some time. By the time we get to her house, we are both very aroused. I have a serious buzz from the cigarettes because I don't really smoke at all...only when I'm dressed. I think of the possible stereotype of 2 heavily made up, suggestively-clothed women getting out of a beat-up car and going into beat-up mobile home. What kind of girl was I anyway? She lives in a clearing cut out of a hillside, so there is no sidewalk. Lots of dirt and rocks. Concrete blocks for steps. I figure I will break an ankle trying to get into her house with these heels on, but again, somehow I am turned on by having to endure something like this....something that only a woman would have to endure. Her boyfriend was out of town on a job for a week. We got in and she said "Put your purse down, take off your skirt and follow me." I did as I was instructed. We walked into her bedroom and she pointed to her open closet and said "Looky here." I looked and saw her collection of sexy clothes on one side, but the other side of her closet was empty. She grabbed my right hand and locked a handcuff around it, pulled the other handcuff up over the clothing rod, and locked my left hand into it. "What are you doing?" I asked, thinking she was playing. "Stand right there with your ass out like that. I'll be right back." I didn't realize it, but the way the closet was built, along with all of her shoes and stuff on the floor of the closet making me stand away from them made me bend over just a bit at the waist. With my arms in the handcuffs, my butt was sticking out, and the heels just amplified the effect. Wow, did I feel exposed. After a few minutes I was wondering what was up with Jane. I could hear her humming and moving around the house. I was almost disappointed that she wasn't going to change clothes. I would know about it as I was almost in her closet. "I'm coming lover. I hope you're ready." She walked around the corner, and the thing that really caught my eye was the shiny, black, strap-on sticking out from her midsection. She had done her eye makeup up like a porn star (that's the way she usually wore her makeup anyway). She was rubbing the dildo with some lubricant while walking around me. I was certainly scared. I had thought about this, and even asked her if I could try a butt-plug for a while to prepare myself for this and she had refused. "I'm not sure about this" I said. "Shut up scaredy cat. I AM ready for this. There is no way you can stand there looking like that without me getting some action." She walks up to me and starts working one of her already lubed fingers in my ass. I squirmed. I was not used to this at all. I could count the times someone had stuck anything there on 2 fingers, and the gap between those times could be counted on 2 hands. She cooed in my ear about relaxing, tugged on my earrings with her teeth, and eventually I started to relax. She started working her cock into my ass slowly, and I just gave in. After a few strokes, my insecurity started melting away because it actually started to feel good. My problem is I think about things too much, and when I started visualizing the scene we were making in my head, I couldn't help but be turned on. Eventually I was vocalizing my level of arousal, and she was doing the same. Her pussy juice was running down her legs, and she was sweating pretty good. I imagine I was too. I had to grab the curtain rod just to keep from falling. After a while (I don't know how many times she came), I finally ejaculated all over her shoes on the floor. When she pulled out, I remember thinking about all the stories I had read that described the emptiness that remained after a lover's cock was removed, and that's what I felt. Jane unstrapped her strap-on, came over and started kissing me. Kissing me with the really tender, soft, erotic kisses that feel so good. I realized we were smearing lipstick all over and tried to pull back but she would have none of it. We made a mess of each other's faces. I realized how much I enjoyed that kind of contact with a woman. My wife would never have kissed like that, even if I was the super macho sexy guy she dreamed about. In reality, I was just an average looking guy who worked on computers for a living. It was interesting that my wife had put up with the strange way I was living the past several months. My body was mostly hairless. My toenails were polished all the time. I wore studs in the holes in my ears all the time (when I wasn't Bridget...thank goodness my wife didn't know about Bridget). She simply treated me like dirt when we were together. It didn't help that Jane was manipulating her. She was constantly telling my wife what a lousy husband I was. Jane even told my wife I was gay after she told her about the communications we had regarding my soliciting her services. Jane didn't tell her everything, but she told her enough. Fortunately, she kept our play activities to us. And a couple of other folks too. She hired a gay hairdresser on a temporary basis (I don't remember his name...let's call him Ron). He was looking for a place to live and needed some income. In this rural community, he stood out. Nothing flaming but once you heard him talk (compared to the locals) you knew something was different. One day when my wife and I were visiting on a weekend, he went outside to smoke, and called me out. He said "So Jane tells me you dress up pretty well." Once again I was shocked she had shared this. "We have had some fun." "Check these out." He pulled some pictures of him in drag out of his pocket. He had been a performer in New York. He looked pretty damn hot, except he was so skinny he had knobby knees. "Have you ever been with a guy?" he questioned. "No. I have only been with Jane and her strap-on." "Would you like to try? I would really like to dress you up." "I don't know..." "Jane says she can work something out." Oh my gosh. Here I had a gay guy propositioning me. "I don't know" I said again. I was thinking that, knowing Jane, this would be at least a 3 way with her fully in charge. I knew that, had I been 'Bridget' at that moment, there was no way I could have refused. With my wife just a door away, it was a bit difficult. He said that he understood if I was nervous, and went back in. I just stood there thinking. I was intrigued yet fearful. This was waaay more than I thought could happen....not that I hadn't dreamed about it. The next week I had a chance to spend a day with Jane. We went through the almost 'normal' routine of my becoming Bridget. Jane said she had a free night's stay in Tunica, Mississippi. If you don't know anything about Tunica, it's about 30 or 40 miles south of Memphis, and was once the poorest county in the nation until they legalized gambling. Now it's grown up to a fair-sized "Vegas of the South." It was only a couple of hours away from us, and she wanted me to go. At the time it was something I could easily arrange, as my job took me out of town occasionally. So I called my wife and let her know. She gave me the usual guilt trip about how my absence was going to inconvenience her, but that was it. Over time Jane had brought more and more playtoys into our time together. Today was no different. After I was dressed and had my makeup done (she had done my nails earlier), she had me do some administrative work on her computer. She kept all her business records there and since I was the 'expert' she had me do the work when I was there. I had become very adept at typing with long nails, a skill I partly attributed to my past history, and a fetish for long, fake nails. She came in to show me a new toy she had, a black leather ball-gag with a nice bright red ball. "What do you think of this?" she asked me. "Very nice" I said with a knowing smile. "Good" she said smiling back. "Put it on." Alright. I could only hope I would create as fetching an image as I had seen in literature. Once I had it on, she tightened it up so my lips were splayed around the ball. "Look at yourself" she said. "Look at how hot you are." Wow. Isn't it surprising that, no matter how good or bad you look as a guy dressed as a girl, you can really get caught up in the moment? I was fucking hot. "I'm glad you like it. Turn around." I turned around and she produced handcuffs, and locked my hands behind my back. "Sit down and don't squirm." How could I not squirm as turned on as I was? My mind was going crazy as to what she was planning. Jane was updating her makeup when Ron walked in. "You ready to go?" he asked her. "Yup. Bridget's in the office" she said. Once again she had gone too far. I was petrified. This was going way too fast. "Hi Bridget. You are soooo hot. I love that outfit. I can't wait to get to know you a little better" said Ron as he came into the office. "I need you to stand up, dear. We are going on a trip." Ron helped me stand, and led me out the door to his car. To the open trunk. There was a quilt spread in the trunk. "You are riding back here, girl" he said. He 'helped' me get into the trunk and lay down. As he closed the lid, I was truly bewildered at where I was that particular moment in time. I trusted Jane to not do anything that would hurt me, as I was pretty sure she had feelings for me. Finding someone who got into everything I got into had a serious affect on my outlook in life. There had been a few times she had asked me to just drop everything, my wife, my kid, my job, and my mortgage, and just run off with her. Her business wasn't doing so well. A lot of it had to do with her dominant personality re- emerging. She didn't suffer fools lightly, and she did not put up with women coming into her shop and bitching about the service they got. Don't get me wrong: Jane was an artist. But you know how some folks can be. If everything's not perfect, they will complain. Jane was tired of working on conservative fuddy-duddy women and found that practicing her artistry on me the most exciting work she had ever done. Jane believed in a woman standing out in a crowd. Over the time of her relationship with my wife (and me), there were a lot of inconsistencies in her background. You know, describe a past event one way one time, and describe it a different way the next time. That doesn't even count the things that I had deduced were just outright lies. Despite this, I was attracted to her like a moth to a flame. And once she discovered my submissiveness, she manipulated me any way she wanted. It was hopeless. Even my wife, who is pretty much one of those fuddy-duddy women, could not help being used by Jane. I won't go too far into details, just in case (hopefully) she reads this. I honestly have no way of validating any of what follows, but it is what she told me. Jane had discovered the power of her body at a young age. She enjoyed...no, REALLY enjoyed sex and masturbation. She discovered early on how she could manipulate men, and that ended up as her first job. She started as a street whore, but her looks got her moved up into being a high class call girl. She had an affiliation with Chicago organized crime, and that got her access to a lot of areas. And people. She did just about everything sexually, or fetish oriented under the sun. And she liked it all. She considered herself a sex addict, and described herself as slut, whore, or nymphomaniac with pride. She saw no shame at all in being a sex toy. She absolutely loved manipulating weak-willed men out of money or gifts. One of her benefactors got her pregnant. She elected to get out of that world to have her child. She remembered what she had been through, and did not want her child to go through the same thing. She moved several states away and met her Latino boyfriend. They had been together for almost a decade when my wife and I entered her life. Once she and I started seriously talking, she felt her old self coming out. She was reveling in the way the old urges were taking over. She started becoming a lot more outgoing in the way she looked and acted, and it was making her Latino boyfriend crazy. He could not handle her looking like a punta (sic) and wanted her to go back to being her old self. She was having none of it. He could go with it or he could leave. She had enough of the attitudes of this backwoods state. What it meant was I was responsible for opening Pandora's Box. And according to Jane it would not be closed again. Anyway, after a couple of hours in the trunk the car finally stopped. It stopped a couple of times. I assumed we were registering at one of the hotel/casinos or something. Eventually, the trunk opened and Ron helped me out. I noticed we were on the backside of the hotel facing away from the building. So no one could see them pull me from the trunk? Probably. My face and hair were a wreck from drooling into the gag, and sweating. It was so hot in there. Jane said "Bridget, do not say a word to anyone. I am going to take your cuffs and gag off. Just follow us up to the room. I know you are as excited about this as I am so you won't try and run away." She was right. As embarrassed as I was to be in public like this, I was still under her spell. I fell behind her and Ron as we walked to building. They were walking quickly and it was difficult for me to keep up in my pumps. But hey, I volunteered for this, right? We made it to the room without much fuss, thank goodness. I still was not comfortable with this at all. Once in the room, Jane made me unpack all their clothing and either hang them up or place them in drawers. The room was a 2 room suite with 2 beds. I could see the excitement in Jane's face. She was really getting turned on, which meant she was planning something. She made me fix my face and hair, and then go get a bucket of ice. She then called room service for a bottle of white wine. I had no idea she had this kind of money. While waiting for room service to deliver, Jane informed me that I was to be her maid while we were there. I would serve the drinks to her and Ron. And while she was out gambling, I was to do whatever 'Ronnie' wanted. Jane was breathing heavy and Ron was smiling what could be best described as an evil smile. Ron came over, put one arm around my waist, the other on the back of my head, and kissed me hard. He jammed his tongue into my mouth roughly. I was totally caught off guard. "I love girls like you. We are going to have some fun." he said. Jane nodded and said yes. She came over and kissed me the soft, sensuous way she does, and walked out of the room. Ron said "Pour us some wine then sit down. Try to look as sexy as you can. I will be out in a few." He disappeared into the bathroom. I drank one glass of wine quickly, and poured another. I then sat in the love seat and tried to cross my legs and look demure. I loved the way the shoes looked on my feet. I even tried practicing the trick of dangling one shoe off my toes. I turned the TV on and tried to find something interesting to watch. After a few minutes, 'Ronnie' came out of the bathroom dressed in a black rubber catsuit, spike heeled boots, a long red wig, and looking like a dominatrix drag queen. I mean, had I been in any other situation I would have laughed at the knobby knees. Where I aspired to look like a woman, he aspired to look like a man in drag. I don't know what breast forms he used but I could see the nipples through the rubber. Wow. She caught my attention. "You look so delicate sitting there. Bring me some wine." She moved over to a leather deskchair. "What do you think?" she asked. "I think you look wicked. I think you look lovely" I said. "That's what I was trying for" she said. "We are going to have some fun. Well...I am going to have fun. Jane tells me you have a submissive streak in you, and that you are actually gay." "She said that? I'm not gay." I claimed. "Doesn't matter. For all intensive purposes you are a girl right now. And Jane has told me what you think of chicks with dicks, so I am the chick-with-a-dick, and you are my girl." What commenced was full scale use and abuse. She fucked my mouth and my ass while I was bound, and while I was free. We drank almost 3 bottles of wine, and I was just trying to see how fucked up (drunk) I could get, because eventually what she was doing started hurting me. She just got more and more abusive as time went by. When Jane came in early in the morning (I don't know how long) I was passed out on the floor. She said she found me hog-tied on the floor with my ball-gag on, and a wine bottle shoved part way up my ass. She said Ronnie was just sitting with her heels propped up on my body, and smoking a cigarette. She later said I looked pretty roughed up. My clothes were torn in a few places. I had some carpet burns on my arms and face. And I had dried cum all over my clothes and hair. Jane was upset with Ronnie. She was pissed over the ruined clothes, and was also not too happy about the marks Ronnie left on me. Jane equated it to rape, but knew I had at least a little fun. She managed to get me untied and into one of the beds, and let me sleep a couple of hours. When she removed the wine bottle, she lubed a butt-plug and stuck it in hoping that I was not so dry that Ronnie had done any damage down there. When she woke me up later, it was in the most gentle way I had ever been awakened, kissing me in the way that only she could. I was hurting everywhere, it seemed. And I could feel that plug, but it didn't bother me that much. Jane told me what happened. I was upset that Ronnie took that kind of advantage of me, but I was more upset that his assault on my mouth had caused lesions at the corners of my mouth and I couldn't put my lipstick on the way I wanted to. Ronnie had changed back to Ron by then, and was apologizing for getting carried away. "It was the alcohol" he said. I didn't buy it. I was allowed to ride up front in the car for the return trip. I didn't say much. My trust had been violated some, but not irreparably. Jane had managed to win some money. Not too much, but enough for her to get some more fetish stuff she wanted. Like I said, I was responsible for opening Pandora's Box. I told my wife I had gotten the scuff marks playing football with the guys at work. She didn't question that at all. My marriage sucked. A few days later, Jane described to me a place she had found that dealt in fetish clothing. She was very excited about it, and asked me if I knew of it. I did not. She informed me that Ronnie ruined my wig and she was getting me a new one. And that she had replaced my catsuit that Ronnie had also ruined. He refused to pay for any of it, and they had a fight. He had decided to leave. Once again it was just Jane and I. Doing her administrative work on computer, over time I noticed there was less and less money coming in to the business. Jane had made a few remarks about shutting her shop down because of money issues, and I had gotten a little concerned. She continued to put pressure on me to 'run away' with her, where I could be Bridget full time. I have to admit I was seriously tempted by it. If it wasn't for the danger involved with getting caught by my wife or someone I knew in the area, I would have been having the happiest time of my life. Jane was always trying to get me caught without my knowing she was. She told some other friends of my wife that I was gay, and that I was trying to get her to make me into a woman, something that she was disgusted by. Funny...I never confronted her about this, and all the other things she tried. She would leave her lipstick-coated cigarette butts in my truck thinking my wife would find them. She even came to my house once and got drunk with my wife. When I came home they were sitting on our deck smoking and drinking. I was really surprised, but turned on at the same time. Her demands on my time kept increasing, but I had taken a new job and my time available was less and less. She found a Latino boyfriend. He wasn't girly or anything, but he did allow her to use her strap-on with him. He also didn't mind the extremes she dressed to and acted on. She told him all about me, and then convinced him that he could have his way with Bridget. She would call me and put him on the line and want me to tell him my fantasies. No way. I was just not comfortable enough to do that. She spent more time clubbing. And buying clothes and makeup for clubbing. I was only able to see her once every couple of weeks, and usually all I had time for was working on her computer. She let me know she was closing the shop because it wasn't making any money. Really, she was either gambling it all away, or spending it on her club habit. Don't get me wrong, it was clothes and makeup she was hooked on. She started dressing and acting more and more dominant. She picked up a sub female at the club, and that's all it took. She cut her hair short and spiked it high. She wore black everything, including lipstick and long black nails. Clunky high heeled boots. Leather and such. She was mad at me. She admitted she loved me very much and wanted me to run away with her. I was heartbroken, caught between a bad marriage and a crazy dominatrix beautician who was everything I'd ever fantasized about. She made her sub chick into me. The girl was somewhat frumpy, but Jane turned her into a sex-crazed slut that dressed and acted to the extremes. She even gave her extensions and colored her hair to look like my wig did. She had very long nails, and Jane taught her to smoke. Whenever I saw them, the girl was looking at her and following Jane around like a puppy. What have I done? Even more so, what am I doing? Jane tried one more time to get me. She had me meet her at a park. When she arrived she was actually wearing a dress, and had a very nice non- dom look. She asked me one final time to run away with her. When I said I couldn't, she cried. Again I was heartbroken. When I got home I found out she had sent an email to my wife saying that I was running away with her. Needless to say, the next few weeks were pure hell. I was able to get things back on track with my wife. As much as they could get back on track. It was still very difficult. I had a good job and I could focus all my attention on it, so there wasn't a lot of extra energy to be used up. I was working on convincing myself that I did not need to dress up to be happy. I could just either live vicariously through my wife (odds were against that), or just keep looking up stuff on the internet. After 6 months or so have gone by, I get a call from Jane. She wants me to come up and visit her. She has closed her shop and is getting ready to move. She wants me to fix her computer before she goes. I am cautious, but agree to it. She lives in a different area now. When I arrive, Jane's girl Friday (the sub...I don't remember her name) greets me at the door. Wow, does she look hot. Jane has had 6 months to do her work on this girl and it shows. Her teeth are perfect and blindingly white (I find out that Jane has been trading sexual favors for cosmetic dental work). Her eyes are really green; I mean a green so bright it's normally not found in nature. Contact lenses obviously. She has a fiery red mane of hair. Her lips are very round and pouty. She's wearing high stiletto heels (I could hear the tip-tap when she came to the door). She has multiple piercings in each ear, a pierced nostril with a chain running from her nose to her left ear, a stud in her tongue, and that's just the ones I can see. Her nails are long and straight with a slight taper. She has a couple of little baubles hanging from each pinky nail. Overall, there are a lot of specifics other than what I describe here, but suffice it to say she has done pretty much to this girl exactly what I wanted her to do to me. Exactly what she and I had talked about oh so many months ago. It turns out Jane has been trading sex for a lot of things. She has several sugar daddies that take her to Tunica and pay for everything. She keeps all her winnings, though. She doesn't let Friday fuck anything except her dildo, and Friday has become a very accomplished cocksucker, which is what I was going to be, according to Jane. Friday has been practicing on her Latino boyfriend and keeping him in line for Jane. We make some small talk. There is an erotic tension between us. At least that hasn't gone away. Jane goes through the ritual of doing the erotic smoking act. So does Friday. I know she is just trying to get an obvious reaction from me. I am so tempted to be Bridget for her right at that moment, but then I remember she has a Bridget. But her new Bridget doesn't have a cock. Anyway, she shows me to her computer in her bedroom. I sit in front of it and she sits on her bed behind me. She starts rubbing and kissing my neck. There's nothing really wrong with her computer except a full hard drive. I take care of that quickly and decide that I will do what I want. I ask her if she wo