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TV2B-A2Z - Alarm From Alan's Apartment free porn video
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Chapter 1 - Alarm from Alan's Apartment
My divorce was messy and traumatic, but I must admit that it was
ultimately the best thing for both of us. Candice and I had been married
for nearly a decade, but we hadn't really been "in love" with each other
for the past three or four years. Candice put on a lot of weight right
after we were married, and then ate some more when she realized that I
didn't find her as attractive as on our wedding night. Three years in, she
outweighed me by some fifty pounds, and I'm a fairly big guy.
Exacerbating matters was the fact that Candice wasn't a very sexual
person. We were both virgins when we married, so we didn't know any
better. But soon after we were wed it became sadly apparent that our sex
life would never go much further than the missionary position, grudgingly
submitted to once or twice a week. Blowjobs and other arousing activities
were absolutely out of the question. She wasn't even interested in having
me go down on her. Candice found almost all aspects of human sexuality to
be patently disgusting. Obviously (thankfully) we didn't have any
children.
So why did we stay married for nine years if things were so bad? That's
easy. Our neighbor Sarah saw what was going on and wanted to help two
friends out. She tried to get Candice to go to the gym with her, tried to
be a supportive friend, even tried to coax my wife out of her sexual
shell. When that didn't work out, Sarah began helping me "cope" with my
frustrations. I know it's cliched that a husband would have an affair with
one of his wife's friends, but I suppose that it's cliched because it
happens so often.
I didn't mean to hurt my wife, but it was inevitable that I soon found
myself thinking about Sarah and how attractive she was whenever she
stopped by to chat with my wife. She exuded a raw sexuality, seemingly
directed straight at me, and I was quickly falling under her spell
(although I was far too na?ve at the time to act upon my impulses).
Sarah wasn't nearly so shy. She initiated the affair, giving me a blowjob
one-day as I relaxed by the pool while Candice was away at the store.
Things progressed quickly from that point on and soon I was sneaking back
home everyday at lunch for a quickie. She even showed up at my office once
and blew me from underneath my desk while I took a phone call. Sarah
undeniably loved giving head and could swallow swords with the best of
them.
Things really ramped up when Candice went to spend some time with her
mother. Sarah promised my wife that she'd look in on me from time to time,
and kept her pledge by waking me up each morning by sneaking into my room
and licking my cock until I was roused from my already erotic dreams.
Nothing puts a spring in your step for the rest of the day like a blowjob
first thing each morning.
On the third day of my special morning wakeup call, I tried to excuse
myself for a moment so that I could empty my bladder. Sarah grabbed me by
the balls and said, "if you've got to go, go, but I'm not letting go of
your cock." I thought that I must have been hearing things, but every time
I tried to disengage, Sarah would lock onto me with her oral vacuum that
had me seeing stars.
Finally I couldn't hold out any longer. With one final warning, I let
loose a stream of piss that went right down Sarah's gullet. A drop or two
escaped her mouth and spilled onto my groin, but I was too caught up by
the eroticism of the moment to care. No sooner had she finished swallowing
the last drop of my piss than I growled in sheer animal lust and flipped
her over the bed and immediately slammed my cock deep into her vagina. She
was sopping wet and on fire. Predictably, I came after only three thrusts,
but my erection never flagged for a second. I kept pounding away at her,
eventually dropping in intensity but unwilling to pull out of her still
quivering pussy. After about five minutes, just as I could feel a second
load churning in my balls, Sarah looked back at me through the sweaty hair
that had fallen across her face and said, "Take my ass."
Once again I groaned in lust. Scooping up some of our juices that had
puddled between our legs, I slathered it across her ass, working my
fingers right past her hole. Sarah moaned as my invading finger was joined
by two of his slippery friends. I don't know what came over me, but I
started to spank Sarah as hard as I could. She collapsed on the bed,
writhing in orgasm as I slapped her ass and told her that she was a,
"Dirty girl who needed to be punished." Then spreading her ass cheeks, I
plowed into the tightest and hottest hole I have ever experienced.
I've been an ass man ever since.
This went on for several months, until the day that Sarah told me that she
and her husband Jeff were moving out of state. Candice and I threw a going
away party for our neighbors, and my wife once again drank far too much
wine. Sometime around 9pm, Jeff thanked us for the party and then excused
himself for the evening, saying something about having to wrap a few
things up at the office before leaving. Candice was three sheets to the
wind by this point, and Sarah suggested that I put her to bed and then
stop by her house for "a more private goodbye party."
I knocked softly sometime before 11, and was surprised when Sarah opened
the door dressed in a see-through body stocking. When I say see-through, I
mean that I could see that there was a dildo buzzing away in her cunt and
another shoved up her ass. I slammed her against the wall and kissed her
as violently as I could. My cock was so hard that I think I could have
forced it through the fabric of her body stocking.
Sensing my ardor, Sarah reached down and took my cock in hand and dragged
me down to the basement. It was dark, but as I descended the stairs, I
became aware that there was a very sexy woman tied face down across a
leather bench. "This is my friend Jasmine." Sarah explained, "I told her
all about how much you love to fuck my ass, and I thought that you two
should meet before we moved."
Jasmine was also wearing a body stocking, although hers had a hole
strategically cut that allowed access to her ass. A huge dildo was already
buried home and buzzing loudly. Sarah led me around front and fed my cock
to Jasmine, who immediately gave it a good coating of lipstick. Damn!
Sarah must have taught Jasmine to suck cock, because both women were
amazing.
Just as I was about to flood Jasmine's mouth with my cum, Sarah stopped me
and pulled me around behind her. As she was pushing my cock into Jasmine's
ass, Sarah whispered in my ear, "Ever since we were married, Jasmine has
always preferred a cock in the ass to one in the mouth." I was lost in a
sexual heat, so it took a moment before I realized that I was actually
fucking Jeff. It troubled me for half a second, but Jasmine started
thrusting her hips back at me and I soon let go of all my reservations.
Sarah slipped out of her outfit, and quickly inserted half of a long, two-
headed dildo into her cunt. She bent down and kissed Jeff tenderly once
before feeding him his half of the dildo. We soon built up a rhythm,
slamming into Jasmine from both ends while we kissed passionately over the
top. I came first, flooding my next-door neighbor's bowels with semen, and
I felt him stiffen and cum in his panties soon after.
"Good girl," Sarah cooed in his ear as she scooped the cum out of his
panties and fed it back to him.
Smiling, Sarah led me upstairs to the shower, leaving her husband tied up
and plugged at both ends with dildos. The thought of him tied up in the
basement had me hard again in no time, and we had a quick fuck in the
shower. God, I was going to miss this woman!
Just before 1am, Sarah explained that Jasmine was going to be saying
goodbye to all of her friends tonight. It turns out that he (she) had a
small cadre of men that she serviced on a regular basis. I asked if I
could stay and watch, but she told me that some of Jasmine's gentlemen
callers relied upon discretion. She kissed me goodnight and showed me to
the door, saying that I could stop by in the morning if I wanted to.
I didn't sleep at all that night. I sat by my bedroom window in the dark
and watched as seven cars pulled up to their house that night. Most of the
time it was a single man who stepped out of the car, sometimes there were
two, and once there was a woman led inside by a leash. I wondered if the
woman was actually a man like Jeff.
I didn't sleep at all that night. I spent the whole time stroking my cock,
although denying myself an orgasm time and time again, preferring to save
it as a goodbye present for my wonderful neighbors. Just before the sun
rose, Sarah boldly stepped onto her porch completely naked and lit a
cigarette without worrying about anybody seeing her. She seemed to know
that I was awake and watching, and she gestured for me to come over. I
literally ran full speed across the lawn, wearing nothing but my boxers.
The front door was ajar, and I burst into the house and down to the
basement. I was immediately assaulted by the stench of sweat and cum. It
was horrible, but it didn't stop me. Jasmine was still tied up, but his
body stocking had been ripped to shreds and deep red welts crisscrossed
every exposed piece of his skin. He was also covered with cum from his
head to his toes, some of it still wet but most of it dried and flaking
off. Sarah laughed when she saw how shocked I was. She cruelly stubbed out
her cigarette on Jasmine's ass. "Don't worry, she loves this. Don't you
honey?" Jasmine moaned something that sounded like "God, yes" and I was
surprised to find my cock shooting strings of cum across the room.
Sarah looked disappointed, as my cock pumped away until my balls were
completely drained dry. She ran a finger through one of the ropes of cum
that had landed on Jasmine's ass and raised it to her lips. "Oh well," she
said as she licked her finger clean, "I had hoped that you would have
saved your last load for me, but I can understand that sometimes you men
can't control yourselves. That's where I come in."
She sauntered forward and took my cock in her hand. Aiming like a
firehose, she told me piss, and I let loose without question. After I had
soaked her husband down, Sarah pushed me to my knees and ground her crotch
into my face. I gave her my most enthusiastic oral sex ever. At times I
couldn't breathe, but I kept lapping away at her pussy while kneeling in a
rank puddle of my own urine. She came twice, then abruptly pushed me away
and said it was time for her to go. She kissed me one final time and
handed me a pair of her panties as a "souvenir of our last night
together."
I reluctantly went home and showered, before heading off to work. On an
impulse, I decided to wear Sarah's panties underneath my business suit.
Needless to say, I got nothing accomplished all day long.
Sarah called me from the airport. She was calling to say thank you for the
party, acting like nothing at all out of the ordinary had happened last
night! Stunned by her nonchalance, I asked how Jeff was doing. She told me
that she didn't know, as she had crated him up and sent him along with the
movers.
I was too flabbergasted to speak, and Sarah chuckled on the other end of
the line. "Don't worry, honey," she said, "those moving men know how to
take care of a girl like Jasmine."
How do you respond to something like that? Finally, Sarah asked me if I
happened to be wearing her panties. I swallowed once and told her that I
was.
"I thought you would," she said. "You know, I love Jasmine, but sometimes
a woman just needs a man to make her feel like a woman. That's what I got
from you, and I'll always cherish that. But then again, there's nothing
like taking a big strong man like you or Jeff and turning him into your
own personal sissy sex slave. Maybe it's a good thing that we're moving,
because I had decided that if you and Candice ever got divorced, that I
would turn you into Jasmine's sister Stacy." She laughed. "Something just
told me that you'd like it, and I can see now that I was right."
My cock twitched in my panties, and I knew deep down that she was correct.
She hung up, but not before making me promise to visit them sometime in
Detroit. "Be sure to bring the panties," was the last thing she said to me
before hanging up.
The next few weeks were difficult. Candice was even more depressed than
usual, and I started spending my evenings at the office on to the internet
checking out all sorts of sex sites. I found a transvestite escort service
and started booking "erotic massages." I enjoyed these dates, but they
didn't have the same intensity of my night with Sarah and Jasmine.
Predictably, Candice caught me when she saw the credit card bill, and our
divorce soon followed. I pretty much gave her everything that she asked
for, knowing that if she ever really figured out my philandering was with
crossdressed men and transvestites, she could destroy my reputation for
good. For my part, I was chastised and decided to leave my newfound fetish
behind me for good.
I decided to make a fresh start of things and accepted a new job at the
Texas Medical Center. I found a nice apartment that was relatively
inexpensive and filled to overflowing with good-looking women who spent
their every moment sunning themselves by the pool. I fantasized about
hooking up with any or all of the bikini babes, but nothing ever really
worked out. I was almost thirty now, while my neighbors were mostly young
college students. I held a well-paying but demanding job at the hospital,
while the apartment girls just wanted to go out partying every night.
It was frustrating to say the least. I almost caved in to my desires and
called one of the Houston based transvestite escort agencies.
Then one Saturday afternoon, Alan moved into the adjacent apartment, and
we struck up a friendship when I helped him unload the U Haul truck. Had I
been more observant, I would have noticed that I was helping a very
effeminate man move in as his furniture and furnishings didn't have any
masculine touches at all. Had I looked in his closet, I would have seen
the rack full of dresses and female clothing. Had I sniffed the air, I
might have caught the faint scent of some expensive French perfume. Had I
looked carefully at him, I might have seen that his arms were shaved and
he was wearing garters and stockings underneath his clothing.
But I didn't see anything other than the skinny guy trying to drag a couch
into his apartment. I asked Alan why he was trying to move all by himself,
and he told me that he too had just accepted a new job and that he didn't
know anybody in town.
"Join the club," I said and we toasted our similar situations with a
couple of beers.
When I woke the next morning, I found a cake and a thank you note on my
doorstep. It was delicious. I tried to return Alan's Tupperware cake
thingy, but there was a woman's voice coming through the door, and I was
happy that Alan had found himself some company, so I let them be. That
night I heard high heels clomping around next door, and ultimately fell
asleep thinking that if Alan could find himself a girlfriend, I would
certainly get lucky soon.
I was having a delightfully erotic dream (Sarah was teaching all the girls
in my apartment complex how to give me head) when a loud noise roused me
from my sleep. A few more thumps and it started to sound like somebody was
being beaten up. I listened closely and could single out an agitated male
voice that didn't belong to Alan. I almost called the cops, but in the end
I dialed Alan's number to see what was going on.
I heard the phone ring through the wall and the commotion immediately died
down. The answering machine came on. "Alan, it's Mike next door. Pick up,"
I said. No reply. "Alan, are you okay?" Complete silence next door. "Okay,
I'm gonna call the cops first then I'm coming over."
There was an explosion of sound through the thin walls, and fearing the
worst, I grabbed a golf club from my front closet and ventured out onto
the common landing. I arrived just as a disheveled guy burst out of Alan's
apartment. He blanched when he saw me holding the club, and I could tell
he was mentally contemplating whether he would survive a leap off our
balcony onto the sidewalk below.
"Where's Alan?" I demanded, trying to sound as menacing as possible.
"Dude, it's cool," the guy stammered. "We were just having a little
fun..."
"Sounded like you were beating the shit out of him."
"Naw, man, it's not like that." He was almost pleading now. "She just
likes things a little rough, that's all."
"She?"
"He, she, whatever, man. I just wanted to have some fun."
"What kind of fun?"
"Aw, man..."
"What kind of fun," I repeated and smashed the club into a hanging plant
for added effect. The guy dove out of the way and ended up crouching
against the door.
"Please, man..." He was shaking now, "Please, I just did what he asked me
to do..."
"Inside," I said and prodded him in the chest with the club. I honestly
just wanted to make sure that Alan was okay. Despite my previous night
with Jasmine, I never in my wildest imagination would have guessed what I
would see when I turned on the foyer light in Alan's apartment.
In the dim light I could see that a woman was tied to a wooden chair in
the middle of the room. She had been stripped down to her bra, panties,
stockings and high heels, and then intricately bound with a mixture of
cotton rope and leather shackles. Her arms were encased in a leather
sleeve and pulled tightly behind her. A thick collar was locked about her
neck, which forced her head to be severely tilted forward. The rest of her
face was encased in a leather hood with a blonde ponytail jutting out the
back and a rubber phallus shoved into her mouth through an O-ring gag.
Underneath the chair was a small motor with a pole attached to the
crankshaft. The pole rose through the seat and was obviously lodged in the
woman's vagina or ass?just how far in I couldn't tell. The motor kept the
pole thrusting up and down every second or so. It was a fucking machine,
and by the way that the woman tensed and squirmed in her bonds, it was
obvious that she was enjoying herself.
I let my attention wander and the guy suddenly ran out of the apartment. I
thought about giving chase, but I finally realized that this was nothing
more than a kinky booty call, and since the woman was actually enjoying
herself, I decided to leave well enough alone. I was going to slink off
back to bed, but figured that I'd better turn off the motor and take the
dildo out of her mouth so she didn't get hurt (the guy was obviously not
coming back, and who knew when Alan was coming home.)
I pulled the plug on the motor, and heard the woman moan in disappointment
as the pole stopped fucking her. With the engine off, I could hear a muted
sound, which I realized came from the headphones that here underneath her
hood. It was hard to hear, but it sounded like an orgy being piped
directly into her ears. This girl had a rubber cock in her mouth,
something fucking her up the ass nonstop and an orgy going on in her head.
I didn't know who she was, but I was getting turned on by what I saw. I
wondered if Jasmine ever spent a night like this.
That's probably why, when I took the dildo out of her mouth and I heard
her whisper, "Give me your cock," it didn't take long before I realized
that it was Alan underneath the hood. I silently thanked the gods for my
good fortune, and then forced my penis past the O-ring gag into her gaping
mouth. She moaned with contentment and quickly started sucking on my cock.
Now I might be a bit jaded after Sarah, but this blowjob wasn't all that
great. She was too immobilized to do anything other than suck. I prefer a
bit more variety in my blowjobs. Anyway, the point is that my mind
wandered, and I thought about Sarah and how much I missed her. I thought
about how much Alan reminded me of Jasmine at the moment, and I thought
about how much I would enjoy having him come over and wake me up with a
proper blowjob each morning. Granted, his skills left a lot to be desired,
but they say that "practice makes perfect..." And thinking of all the
practice that I would give my new sissy sex slave, I shot a week's worth
of pent-up cum down his throat, and smiled as he choked and sputtered and
coughed but swallowed it all down.
I decided to take a look around, so I turned the fucking machine on and
strapped the dildo back into Alan's mouth and then proceeded to explore
his apartment. Everywhere I went, there were signs of kinky sexuality that
soon had me rock hard again. There were trays full of makeup and
fingernail polish in the bathroom, with the undersink cabinet filled with
Nair, bubble bath and tampons. His closet was filled with skirts and
dresses; his dresser drawers were filled with stockings and panties. There
must have been forty pair of high heel shoes under the bed and in the
closet, and there was transvestite and bondage porn scattered in every
room in the apartment. His magazine rack held "Cosmo" and "Glamour," and
there was a suitcase full of all sorts of intricate bondage gear and
dildos and butt plugs.
Finally, I logged on to his computer and found that he had bookmarked
several forced femme websites. The computer automatically prompted the
passwords, so I just hit return and spent the next two hours going through
Alan's email and personal ad correspondence.
During all of this, Alan was strapped to the fucking machine in the front
room. From the sounds of his moans and the stain spreading across the
front of his panties, I could tell that he was enjoying himself.
It was time for a heart to heart talk. I left the fucking machine running,
but removed Alan's gag and facial mask. He got a wild look in his eyes
when he realized that I was in his apartment, but was powerless to do
anything about it. By that I mean that he couldn't untie himself, but also
that he was so wracked with lust that he would have done anything at that
moment in time. I suppose that being fucked by a machine for several hours
will do that to you.
I sat down, cool as a cucumber, popping the top off a beer that I had
pulled from Alan's fridge. "So, this is a bit of a surprise." I laughed
and took a long swig. "I thought that you were being robbed or murdered or
something. Came over to help you out. And look what I find." Another
chuckle. Another swig or beer. "So. What's going on here?"
Alan tried to deny and make excuses, but that was pretty hard to pull off
while a machine fucked you up the ass. Even more telling was the unsightly
bulge in Alan's panties, something I exploited when I had finally lost all
patience with Alan's desperate and unceasing yammering about how this
wasn't what it appeared to be. I leaned forward and took Alan's cock in my
hand. It immediately started to twitch, like a fish gasping for air.
"I've checked out your computer ads and snooped around your apartment.
You're a sissy slut wannabe who needs somebody like me to turn you into
the woman of your dreams." His twitching cock told me that I was right.
"I've never been with a guy," I lied, "but you're pretty close to a girl
already, and I bet I can make you 100% female before we're through. What
do you say?"
His tiny cock started pumping semen into my hand, and that was all the
answer that I needed. When he was finished spurting, I lifted my hand to
his mouth and let him lick up his cum from my hand. "Good girl," I said. I
went back to my apartment and grabbed my Polaroid camera, happy that I had
a new pack of film. Click, click, click. I showed Alan the developing
pictures and was amused to see him shudder.
"This is probably your biggest fantasy, isn't it?" I said.
"Well, congratulations. You're about to get everything that you've ever
dreamed of. We'll get started tomorrow morning. I'll leave my door
unlocked. Come in and wake me up at 7:15 exactly with your best blowjob.
Don't be late, or else there'll be hell to pay." In a show of bravado, I
snapped open the lock on Alan's arm sleeve and walked out the door.
By now it was almost 5:00am, so I slumped onto the couch, hoping to catch
a few hours of sleep and not really sure if Alan would show up, but
desperately hoping that he would. My mind raced as I thought about all the
possibilities, and I was still awake and fantasizing about Alan when I
realized that the sun was peaking through my living room blinds and that
the front door was creeping open and a naked man was sneaking into my
apartment.
I pretended to be asleep, as was rather satisfied to find that Alan had
crept up underneath the blanket and quickly found my exposed cock (Which
was hard and waiting for him). Once again, Alan treated me to his best,
but still lackluster blowjob. It was enjoyable, but not enough to get me
off. Truth be told, I was only hard because I had to take piss. Then I
wondered if I could make Alan drink my piss. Sarah had loved it, why not
Alan?
I grabbed his head and held him fast as I started to piss into his mouth.
It was hesitant at first as I didn't want to make a mess on the couch, but
when I realized that Alan was swallowing it all, I let loose and was
thrilled once again by the sensation. Just the thought of having my own
sissy slut and personal toilet was enough to get me aroused to the point
where I came, gushing down Alan's throat. He never let up off my cock, and
it wasn't until I was soft that I realized that I had been holding his
head in place into my groin all this time. I panicked as I thought I might
have killed the boy, but then I realized that he was simply waiting for me
to tell him what to do next.
I decided to see how far this went. "Bathe me," I commanded and Alan went
to run me a bath. I lounged in the tub while he cleaned me, once again
sucking my balls empty when I got a hard on in the tub.
He patted me dry and helped me dress for work. By now it was 9:00am and I
was running late. I hadn't been with the company long enough to have
accumulated any sick leave, but I called in sick anyway. I sent Alan back
to his apartment, told him to get completely dolled up and then to tie
himself up in front of his computer. He was to write a 5000-word essay on
what he would expect from a sissy sex slave relationship with me.
I fell asleep and dreamed about Alan and Jasmine.
I woke in the afternoon and wandered over to Alan's apartment, only to
find him fast asleep, but tied up in front of his computer. He was tied
far more tightly than I would have ever dared. In addition to Alan's very
best slut wear, he was wearing 5" stiletto heels and a corset tied so
tightly that he could barely breathe. He was seated down on a large dildo,
with leather straps holding his thighs and chest in place. A posture
collar kept his face looking at the screen, and his wrists were shackled
to the keyboard with only a few inches of slack so that he could type.
Damn, I chuckled, this girl is for real.
Printing out the story, I learned that Alan's femme name was Barbie, and
he fantasized about being forced into a life of sissy slavery. Right then
and there that I would help her out. "Like it or not, Barbie," I thought,
"all your dreams are about to come true."
I hope that you enjoy my TV-2-B series, and would love to hear your
thoughts and suggestions. Sometimes I'll be writing as Mike, although I
definitely identify with Barbie in real life, so I suspect that the POV
will change over the weeks to come. With apologies to Sue Grafton, there
will be 26 of these stories, arranged A through Z. I'd love to hear your
story ideas ("Blackmailing Barbie," "Chastising Claudette" "Dildoeing
David," Ernie's Enema," etc). Hopefully, if I meet the right guy or TV
models, I'll also have the chance to add some photo illustrations. Stay
tuned...
Elissa
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