The Door To Door Stocking Salesman - Part II free porn video

The Door to Door Stocking Salesman - Part II By Michele Nylons Michele was thought about her first sexual encounter with the door to door stocking salesman; she had certainly enjoyed giving him a footjob and she would like to explore their burgeoning relationship further. She particularly liked it when he had kissed and cuddled her just before he left. Of course the dilemma was how to explain to him that she was a transvestite. So far nothing more than masturbation had occurred between them, but Michele was fantasising about going a lot further than that. But this was the nineteen fifties and people were not tolerant of any form of sex other than that which occurred between a man and a women; the word gay meant happy not homo. Not that Mike felt like a homo; when he was dressed as Michele he imagined himself as a totally feminine woman. Now; if only Brain felt the same way! Michele was mulling over a number of options; one: do nothing but refuse to see Brian again, two: tell Brian the truth and hope that he isn't disgusted that she is a transvestite, or three: don't tell Brian that she is a transvestite but continue to have sex with him. She had a week to decide, and she chose not to rush her decision. As the days passed her fantasies became more vivid and she used the memory of the nylon footjob she had given Brian as her main masturbatory aid. On Friday Mike received a phone call requesting that he come to the head office of the Midlands Lingerie and Fashion Garment Distribution Company located in Birmingham. The company had heard that he was good accountant and bookkeeper who charged a reasonable rate and they had an employment opportunity for him. Mike caught the bus to the head office and arrived on time at 10:00am. He had an interview with the firm's senior accountant, Mr Tilsbury who conveyed that the firm was looking to outsource some of their bookkeeping, particularly the accounts of their travelling salesmen. They had just become the local distributor of Aristoc hosiery and expected to increase their sales significantly as Aristoc was the most popular hosiery brand in the UK. "We need more accountants and bookkeepers because we are expanding," Mr Tilsbury said. "We sell quality lingerie and hosiery and we've just acquired the Aristoc distribution rights for the whole of the Midlands," he further explained. Mr Tilsbury took Mike on quick tour of the offices and warehouse. At the front of the warehouse was a large counter over which the salesman collected their stock and completed paperwork with the stores assistants; behind the counter the warehouse was fitted with floor to ceiling shelving loaded with stock. Leaning nonchalantly on the counter was a handsome man in his mid forties who was giving a plump, mature, female stores assistants his biggest, cheekiest grin. She was halfway up a ladder reaching for some stock and the salesman was getting an eyeful of her legs and knickers. She was obviously well aware that he could see up her skirt but she seemed to enjoy flirting with him. "We distribute to all of the major retailers in the Midlands and we also have about twenty or so salesmen working door to door." Mr Tilsbury was saying as they approached the counter. "Actually there's one of them over there; come on over and I'll introduce you." Mike was somewhat taken aback, he recognised Brain immediately; he actually felt a twinge of jealousy when he saw him looking up the skirt and flirting with the saleswoman. "That fucking Brian; he spends more time looking at stockings than he does selling the bastards!" the senior accountant said. "But I'll give him his due; he's our best salesman." "Come on over and I'll introduce you," he said, leading Mike over to the counter. "Mike this is Brian, one of best door to door salesmen," the senior accountant introduced them. Brian snatched his eyes away from the saleswoman's skirt and looked guiltily at them. He then smiled that magnificent smile and held out his hand. "Hello Mike; I'm Brian; don't believe a word this bastard tells you about me," he grinned. "Pleased to meet you," Mike answered meekly. Brian looked at Mike quizzically and asked. "Have we met before; you seem familiar?" Mike's face went a deep shade of red, he remembered Brian shooting his load over his stockinged feet and kissing and cuddling him only a couple of days ago. "No I don't think so; but you can never tell; it's a small world," Mike answered. "Mike will be doing your books Brian, so it's best to stay on his good side," the senior accountant joked and then led Mike away to continue the tour. Mike realised that when he was introduced to Brian he immediately adopted Michele's personality in his head. That explained his jealousy and why his thoughts turned to memories their sexual encounter. Mike decided then and there that Michele would be waiting for Mike the next time he knocked on her door and that she would be taking their relationship one step further. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Brian went home from Michele's house very satisfied. He couldn't believe that he could find a mature attractive woman who shared his nylons fetish. Sure, there was something a little odd about her; she was big, but well proportioned, and she had that deep throaty voice; but she was very sexy. He fantasised about her all week and every evening as he lay in his bed with a silk stocking on his cock, masturbating like crazy, he thought of the beautiful silken tunnel that she had made with her feet for him to fuck. He was really looking forward to next Tuesday. Brian went to the warehouse every Friday morning to restock his sample case and to deliver postal orders. He liked going to the warehouse because there was a cheeky stores assistant there named Alice who liked to tease him. She would find an excuse to bend over or climb a ladder so that he could look up her skirt. Alice was married and he knew it was just flirting around but it stimulated them both and it was harmless enough in the long run. Today she was halfway up a ladder giving him a great legshow when they were interrupted by the firm's senior accountant and a new bookkeeper who, it was explained, would be working from home. There was something about the bookkeeper that Brian just couldn't put his finger on; he knew him from somewhere but was buggered if he remembered where. When they moved on and left him alone with Alice she resumed her legshow whilst she was perched up the ladder. She finally came down from the ladder with a box of assorted nylon stockings for him to add to his sample case. "We've just got the distribution rights for Aristoc here in Birmingham so I'm going to refill your sample case," Alice said. "Head office wants us to push the product; and to be honest, they're probably the best stockings on the market now anyway." "I wear them exclusively; look," she said lifting the hem of her skirt to show him her sheer nylon stockings. "Lovely Alice; I'll bet your husband likes that you wear them too," Brian winked at her mischievously. "You never mind what my husband likes," she quipped back. "I always say 'a little of what you fancy does you good' and I make sure he gets a 'little' every now and again." They both had a good laugh; stopping when they heard the approaching footsteps of the warehouse manager. "Go on you cheeky bugger; I've filled in the counter book. By the way you were down six pairs of nylons last Friday with no payment recoded." Alice said. "Shit!" Brian exclaimed, remembering the stockings that he had let Michele take from his sample case free of charge. "How much am I down luv?" he asked. "Two pounds, seven and six," Alice replied. "Do you want me to put it on this week's slate or do you want to pay it off now?" Brian handed over two pounds and some silver and waited for Alice to make change. A couple of pounds was well worth it for what he had received in return, he smiled to himself. Brian was looking forward to Tuesday; he would come here to the warehouse to stock up his sample case, make his usual rounds in the morning and then arrive at 162 Sovereign Way in the early afternoon. He wanted to see if the sexy lady who lived there was willing to go a little further. He fantasised about how she had let him fuck her stockinged feet; would she let him do other things to her? Was she married? Did she live alone? Would she even be home when he called? All good questions. Tuesday morning arrived and Brian had filled his sample case and was ready for the road. He was disappointed that he didn't get a legshow from the plump but pretty stores-assistant. The foreman was at the counter in serious mood and had no intentions of allowing his staff to flirt with the salesmen. As Brian was about to leave, the foreman called him over. "Brian, Mr Tilsbury wants to see before you go out on your rounds," he said. "What the fuck does that old codger want?" Brian asked. "Well as been as I'm in charge the warehouse, and he's in charge of accounts; and as I'm a hard working, callused handed labourer and he's an inky fingered, shiny pants bureaucrat; it's highly un-fucking likely that he would tell me is it?" The foreman answered. "Fucking wanker," Brian muttered under his breath and headed over to the accounting section. There was a mature secretary over in the accounting section who insisted on wearing skirts that were far too short for her matronly figure and she often sat far enough away from the edge of her desk for Brian to get an ogle at her fleshy thighs and sometimes even a glimpse of knicker or suspender. When he arrived in the accounts office she was out from behind her desk and bent over at the waist getting a file from the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet. He stood there silently watching her and his erection tented his trousers at the sight of her apple shaped arse stretching her skirt to seam-breaking point, her seamless nylon stockings stretched taut on her shapely legs, they shimmered in the glare of the overhead lights. She caught him staring and gave him a severe frown and then stared pointedly at his bulging erection. "You should be ashamed of yourself; I'm old enough to be your mum," she chastised him. But when she moved back to her desk and sat down she slipped him a wink and made no attempt to pull down the hem of her skirt as it rode up high on her thighs. "Mr Tilsbury will see you now," she smiled at him. "You might want to adjust yourself before you go in though," she pointed her chin at Brian's erection and smiled sarcastically. Brian put his hand in his pocket and adjusted his semi-hard cock so that it was hidden in the pleats of his trousers. He smiled at the secretary. "If I was a few years older........" "If you were a few years older, you wouldn't be getting the free show I gave you today luv," she smiled back. Satisfied that he had held his own bantering with the secretary, Brian knocked on Mr Tilsbury's door and went right in. Tilsbury was pouring over a ledger; another pile of ledgers was stacked on the corner of his desk. Brian didn't know how these desk-bound scribblers could stand their work; cooped up in a dingy office eight hours a day. 'Maybe Mr Tilsbury occasionally got his secretary to come in help take down some particulars?' he smiled to himself but doubted that Tilsbury had it in him. He looked at the photo set on the desk; a mousy little wife and two mousy little daughters. Still you never knew; often in was the quiet ones.............. "The warehouse foreman said you wanted to see me Mr Tilsbury," Brian said. "Oh yes, Brian Macklin; you service the Moseley area don't you?" Tilsbury asked. "Yes it's on my route," Brian answered. For a fleeting second he wondered if either the woman who'd given him the footjob last Tuesday or the mischievous older woman who'd asked him to straighten her seams had lodged a complaint. "Oh good Mr Macklin; would you be so kind as to deliver this ledger to Michael Rodgers, you met him on Friday; he's the new bookkeeper. He lives in Moseley which is on your route today, yes? " Tilsbury finished. 'As if I give a fuck,' Brian thought to himself, 'now I'm being used as an errand boy. Me! One of their best salesmen!' "Absolutely, Mr Tilsbury; it will be my pleasure," Brian lied, and picked up the ledger wrapped in brown paper. Brian put the ledger in his sample case and left the office mumbling to himself. "Officious little prick!" "Oh it didn't look that way to me when I saw it," the secretary smiled lasciviously at him. "Not me; him!" Brian smiled back. "Well let me tell you something, 'mister hunky smiling salesman'; Mr Tilsbury may be officious, but he ain't little," she smirked and winked at him again. Brian looked at her with amazement. She got up from behind her desk and bent over to the filing cabinet making a show of returning a file back to the bottom drawer. Brian's eyes locked on her buttocks and legs when she bent over. "You can stand there all day looking luv; but it'll cost you more than a pork pie and pint of bitter if you want to get your hands on these goods. Call me Friday afternoon and I might let you take me out," she said, turning her head to look at Brian, remaining bent over the drawer. "I just might," he said, thinking about how cheeky all of the women that worked at this firm seemed to be. "Then if you treat me nice I might take YOU out; if you know what I mean" she winked lecherously. Brian sat on the bus heading out of Birmingham City to Moseley. He was thinking about Alice up the ladder in the warehouse letting him look up her skirt, Mr Tilsbury's secretary bent over the drawer of her filing cabinet showing him her ample bottom and shapely nyloned legs, the old lady who'd let him straighten her stocking seams, and of course, about Michele who had let him fuck her stocking encased feet. His cock was so hard that it was almost painful; he hoped that Michele would be home this afternoon and was up for some more fun. He put his sample case on his knees to hide his erection and he opened it up, attempting to get his mind off sex and back on work. He picked up the brown-paper-wrapped ledger book and looked at the address on the white packing label: Mr Michael Rodgers, 162 Sovereign Way, Moseley. Fuck! It was addressed to Michele's old man! Jesus! So she was married! But hang on minute; Mr Tilsbury said that Mr Rodgers worked from home. Jesus fucking Christ! The silly tart had given him a footjob and kiss and cuddle session knowing full well that her old man might come home at any time. But hang on? She didn't seem particularly stupid; maybe her old man might have a permanent commitment on Tuesday afternoons. Maybe he was a member of a club, a lawn bowler, a golfer, a bridge aficionado. Who the fuck cared! He would go around to 162 Sovereign Way this afternoon and be a professional salesman. And if Mr Rodgers wasn't home; he might give Mrs Michele Rodgers a good rogering, he laughed to himself. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Monday morning Mike turned up at Oxfam to assist with the donated clothing at the sorting tables. He was very excited, thinking about his meeting with the door to door salesman tomorrow. He was a little perturbed that they had met face to face last Friday at the Midlands Lingerie and Fashion Garment Distribution Company and that Brian thought they might have met before. He was still ruminating about what to do about telling Brian that he, Michele, was a transvestite. He transformed into Michele in his subconscious. She was ninety nine percent sure that she was going to keep her transvestism a secret from Brian. There were plenty of sexy things that they could do together without Brian having to know any different. She would use Brian's stocking fetish to her advantage and allow him to play with her legs and let him kiss and cuddle her, but she would remain fully dressed and would not allow him to touch the front of her body intimately between her neck and thighs. Besides the thought of anything more than masturbating him and kissing and cuddling was quite abhorrent; after all she was not a homo; was she? Mike looked around the sorting room and was disappointed to she that Miss McGuire and Mr Billson had volunteered to work today. Miss McGuire was a spinster in her fifties who thought she was the queen of the sorting room and tried to tell the other sorters what to do. On the rare occasion that they were rostered on the same day she barely tolerated Mike working at the ladies clothing sorting tables. Mr Billson was a pensioner in his late forties who for some reason had a dislike for Mike; they seldom worked together as Mike insisted on working only at the ladies clothing sorting table; Mike's justification for working at the ladies tables was that there was usually more women's clothing than men's clothing donated to Oxfam. Mr Billson sometimes made the odd quip about Mike's penchant for working at the ladies clothing sorting table but Mike ignored them. Yesterday's sorters had separated the ladies clothing from the men's and the pile of ladies clothing was at least twice as big as the women's. They had just sorted the clothing by gender and removed any torn, damaged or excessively stained clothing. Mike would have no problem justifying working at the women's clothing tables today. After perfunctory hellos to Mr Billson and Miss McGuire, Mike grabbed a pile of clothed from the pile and dropped them on his sorting table. At the end of the table were bags marked for the various items of clothing: skirts and dresses; blouses and shirts; shoes and boots; hats, gloves and accessories; coats and blazers; lingerie and underwear; and miscellaneous. There was also a large bag marked 'rags' for clothing that was not suitable for resale. Any underwear and lingerie that was not in immaculate condition was thrown in the rag bag as a matter of course. Mike went to work sorting through the pile of clothing on his table dreaming about his assignation with the door to door stocking salesman tomorrow. He mechanically sorted through the clothing until something special caught his eye. It was a black satin and lace, open-bottom, bustiere with inbuilt waist-cincher and it looked like it would fit him perfectly. It laced up at the back and had four garters on each side of the bodice. The bodice was beautifully detailed black satin with whalebone supports and lace trimming on the top of the brassiere cups and the bottom of the bodice. It would cost a fortune in a West End lingerie shop. Mike held the garment up to inspect it under the overhead lights. "Oh that's lovely Luv," Miss McGuire cooed, "I'll have that!" "I don't think so!" Mike snapped. "Well; why would you want it?" Miss McGuire barked back. "He's a noncer that's why. I see him nicking women's clothes all the time; it's unnatural it is!" Mr Billson joined the argument. "It's none of your business! We're not supposed to be nicking anything!" Mike whined at both of them. "Besides, what I do with the clothing I get from here is none of your business!" he whined. "Well I never; if I new you was a knicker nicker I wouldn't have had anything to with you! I've seen you nicking women's clothing too; but I thought it was for your mum or a girlfriend." Miss McGuire said. "Leave me alone! The clothes ARE for my girlfriend," Mike whined at the two of them and went back to sorting the clothing on his table. "Noncer," Mr Billson whispered under his breath but went back to work. Miss McGuire was obviously miffed that she couldn't steal the bustiere for herself but she let it go. Mr Billson continued to glance up accusingly at Mike but let the issue drop. Half an hour later one of the other volunteers came into the sorting room with a large pot of tea and a plate of biscuits. Work stopped as tea was poured and biscuits dunked. Miss McGuire wandered off to the loo and Mr Billson looked around and noting that the room was empty, took the opportunity to sidle up to Mike. He muttered softly to Mike. "You know, I don't really mind what you do with the clothes you get ere' you know. Before the war I lived in London and used to go to some special interest clubs, if you know what I mean," he winked at Mike. "I have no idea what you mean!" Mike snapped back. "Yeah, ya do; you're blushing like a virgin on her wedding night," Mr Billson chuckled. "That's ok though; I just got to thinking, and I could see how a bloke you; dressed properly and with a wig and makeup, could carry it off." "I have no idea what you're talking about you silly man!" Mike snapped back. "Sure; well if you ever want to get together over a pint, or something; just remember I'm ok with that sort of thing," Mr Billson winked at Mike again and wondered back to the tea trolley. Mike was astounded. He might have guessed that some of the volunteers had noticed him knocking off the odd garment here and there but he never dreamt that any of them would confront him. It served him right really, he was too absorbed in the reverie of what he was going to get up to tomorrow. He would normally never hold up a garment for appraisal like he did today; the bustiere would normally surreptitiously disappear off the table and end up in his satchel to be thoroughly inspected in the privacy of his home. Mrs McGuire returned from the loo and they got back to work. The altercation over the bustiere was not mentioned again, and at knock off time they packed up the tables for the day and got ready to leave. As Mike walked out of the Oxfam and started heading down to the bus stop, he was approached by Mr Billson again. "Look Mike if I'm wrong about my presumption, well, I'm sorry; but I don't think I am," he said. "And I meant what I said; I'm ok with that sort of thing and would be willing to talk with you more about it," he said, winked at Mike, and walked away. Mike was puzzled by exactly what Mr Billson meant. Was he crossdresser too? Was he a man who liked to consort with crossdressers? Mike would have to give this situation some careful thought. He caught the bus and sat down and looked at his watch and had a horrible feeling that he had forgotten to do something important. What had totally slipped Mike's mind was that he was supposed to go to the accounting section of the Midlands Lingerie and Fashion Garment Distribution Company and pick up last weeks sales ledgers. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Mike had a profitable morning and had made some good sales; he was looking forward to some serious fun with Mrs Rodgers this afternoon. He sat in the Moseley Arms public house with the ledger book addressed to Michael Rodgers in front of him, sipping a pint and eating a cheese sandwich and pondered the conundrum regarding Mr and Mrs Rodgers and the house at 162 Sovereign Way. It just didn't make sense that Michele Rodgers would let him fuck her feet and then arrange a meeting for the same time next week if it was at all likely that Mr Rodgers would return home during the afternoon. He thought back to his meeting with Mike Rodgers at the garment distribution company last Friday. He recalled their conversation: "Have we met before; you seem familiar?" Brain had asked and Mike had answered, "No I don't think so; but you can never tell; it's a small world." Something didn't sit right! Mike had blushed and stammered when they were introduced. Did Mike know him? Did Mike know that Brian had been at his house last Tuesday? Did Mike know that Brian had foot-fucked his wife? What the fuck was going on at 162 Sovereign Way? He played it over in his mind. Suddenly Mike choked and spat out a mouthful of cheese sandwich and bitter ale. "Fucking hell!!!" he exclaimed. The punters in the pub looked at him disapprovingly and the publican gave him a stern stare. Mike raised his hands in apology to the lunchtime crowd and went back to his rumination. Chris; that was it!!! Michele Rodgers was big, but well proportioned, and she had that deep throaty voice. When he compared the images in head of Michael and Michele Rodgers they looked too much alike for coincidence. They were either brother and sister, or, Michael Rodgers was also Michele Rodgers. "Fucking hell!!!" he exclaimed again and immediately apologised to the patrons and the publican. Michele Rodgers was a transvestite! Brian Macklin had been given a footjob by and kissed a man! He pondered that for a few minutes and was surprised that he wasn't disgusted with himself. It wasn't as though he'd been with some bloke in suit and tie; he was no homo. He'd been with a sexy woman who just happened to have male genitalia! He rationalised this further. He had a raging stocking and lingerie fetish and had tried on the garments himself occasionally. Brian didn't have the urge to dress up like a woman, but he had to admit that Michele looked sexy hell. So what to do now? That was the question! He had a number of options open to him. He could continue on as if he knew nothing; he could confront Michele with the truth; he could just never go back to the house at 162 Sovereign Way; or he could even blackmail Michael Rodgers and threaten him with exposure. It was quite a conundrum. Bugger it! He would keep his appointment with Michele this afternoon and see how it played out. He felt himself begin to thicken down there in anticipation. Brian finished his pint. Left the pub, after again apologising to the publican for his outburst, and caught the bus that would take him to Sovereign Way. He plotted and schemed and played out various scenarios in his head but he had to admit that the more he thought about the situation the more he became aroused. He'd never given any great thought about what it might be like to have sex with a transvestite; he'd always had plenty of willing women. But he had to admit that Michele was not only sexy, the way she dressed and spoke, she had also demonstrated a particular aptitude when it came to satisfying his fetish. Brian stopped briefly at a chemist and by the time he knocked on the door of 162 Sovereign Way he was sporting a fierce erection and had formulated a strategy regarding how he was going to deal with Michele Rodgers. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Tuesday morning and Mike had a nagging feeling that he had forgotten something important. Then it dawned on him. Fuck!!! He was supposed to go into the Midlands Lingerie and Fashion Garment Distribution Company yesterday and pick up the sales ledgers. He looked at his watch. Shit!!! Ten o'clock; there was no way he could make it into Birmingham and get home again before his afternoon sware. He decided he would keep his tryst with the salesman and then call Mr Tilsbury later in the afternoon to apologise. If he rang now, Tilsbury was likely to demand that Mike come to the firm and collect the ledger and Mike was anticipating transforming into Michele and having a pleasant afternoon with Brian Macklin. Mike allowed his mind to transform from his male persona to Michele as he prepared for the encounter. Michele poured herself a bath and shed her male attire and then lowered herself into the hot frothy water. She closely shaved her face using a hand held shaving mirror and a new razorblade. She ran her hands all over her chest, arms, legs and buttocks and shaved away any stubble she found. She dried herself off and sat at the dresser and applied foundation, finishing powder, blush and lashings of mascara, eyeliner and eyeshadow. She painted her lips with two coats of ruby red lipstick. She pulled on her favourite brunette, shoulder length, wig and adjusted it so that the fringe came to her eyebrows. She stepped into a pair of red satin full-cut panties and pulled them tight around her buttocks and tucked her penis under the gusset. Then she stepped into the black satin and lace, open-bottom, bustiere and laced up at the back with some difficulty. The bustiere cinched her waist and gave her an hourglass figure, accentuating her full hips. She slipped her homemade breastforms into the cups and admired herself in mirror. Michele opened a package of seamless, flesh-toned, fifteen denier stockings and rolled them up her legs attaching them to the four garters on each side of the bodice of her waist cincher. She had selected a charcoal grey business suit with a knee length pencil skirt with rear kick pleat and a white silk long sleeved blouse. She liked the idea of wearing the risqu? bustiere under the conservative suit. She stepped into black, four-inch high heel pumps and accessorised herself with gold earrings, necklace and bangles. She fastened a gold chain anklet around her left ankle. She sprayed a liberal amount of perfume on her d?colletage and under her skirt and picked up her bottle of red nail polish and went downstairs to the lounge. She poured herself a glass of red wine and lit a Woodbine and glanced at the mantle clock. She had half an hour to do her nails before Brian was due to call; providing he was on time of course. Almost exactly thirty minutes later there was a knock on the door. Michele pulled a curtain to one side and peeked out. Brian Macklin, the door to door stocking salesman, stood on her doorstep. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Brian was very impressed with what greeted him at the door of 162 Sovereign Way; this woman (well not really) knew exactly how to dress to get him excited. From her heavily made up face, to her wide hips, to her sexy legs and large but elegant feet, she exuded sex. She didn't say anything, but curled a red painted fingernail at him beckoning him inside. Brian's eyes locked on her ample bottom, the kick pleat of her pencil skirt inviting his gaze to lock on her shimmering sleek nyloned legs and sexy black high heels. He slammed the door closed behind him and followed Michele into the lounge. Part of the strategy that Brian had fabricated to deal with Michele the transvestite was to think of her only as a woman. If you looked closely at her you could see some of the give away signs: she was large framed, had big feet, a husky voice and an Adam's apple; but dressed the way she was, her feminine charms far outweighed any evidence of masculinity. Besides, regardless of anything else, she was just downright sexy! Michele reminded herself of her own strategy for dealing with Brian; she would let him do what he liked, to a certain extent, but he was not to touch the front of her body between the neck and thighs. Brian put his sample case on the coffee table and they sat on the couch, a little nervous and awkward with each other. Brian spoke first. "Nice stockings Michele; they're Wolford Perlons seamless aren't they?" "Yes they are; a donation from your sample case last week," Michele answered. After thirty seconds of uncomfortable silence Brian moved in towards Michele and kissed her gently on the lips, his hands on her shoulders. The kisses became hotter and they were soon mingling tongues and grinding lips; Brian pushed Michele down on the couch and his hand fell to her stocking sheathed legs and he stroked and pawed at them. "You'll ladder my stockings," Michele panted breathlessly into his mouth. "It's not like I can't replace them," Brian laughed and pounced on her again, firmly kissing her and snaking his hand under her skirt. Brian's hand smoothed over the welt of her stocking onto her garter strap and continued up her thigh towards her panties and Michele struggled and tried to push his hand away. "No Luv; don't do that!" she instructed him. "Why not luv; I bet you're wearing lovely knickers and I'd love to have a feel of them," Brian begged, knowing full well why Michele didn't want him touching her there. "Please Brian; you can do what ever you want to my legs and bum but you can't touch me there," Michele replied in her husky breathless voice. "Ok then; let's get yer skirt and blouse off so I can enjoy what's on offer," Brian pleaded, knowing full well that Michele would not acquiesce. Michele decided it was time to be more assertive to keep Brian away from the parts of her body that she didn't want him to touch. She hadn't thought it would be this difficult to control him. Michele forced Brian away and pushed him back onto the lounge. "Here; let me take the lead for a while," she giggled, trying to slow things down. She straddled his lap, the seams and kick pleat of her skirt stretching to the limit and forcing it to ride up her thighs. She took off Brian's jacket and tie and folded them over the back of the couch. She unbuttoned his shirt and raked her nails across his chest as she leaned into him and kissed him passionately. Brian responded and slid his tongue into Michele's mouth and wrapped his arms around her inhaling her scent and tasting her mouth. Michele decided that she had better continue to take the lead; rational thinking told her that she shouldn't touch another man's penis, but she was so excited that the very idea of touching Brian's erection for the first was highly exciting. She looked down and saw his cock tenting the front of his trousers just in front of where her thighs straddled his. She lowered a hand and felt the hard bulge of his phallus through the material of his trousers. Brian was delightfully surprised when Michele took the initiative straddling him and allowing her skirt to ride up high on her thighs. While she removed his jacket and tie he stroked her thighs and then returned her kisses and embraced her. She was so sexy, he could taste her lipstick, and her perfume was driving him heady. He decided to allow her to take the lead for a while; but soon he was going to show her that her ruse was up. When she grasped his erection though his trousers he emitted a low growl from deep down in his throat. Michele fumbled at Brian's flies, encumbered by his hard cock pushing at the material of his trousers and his fly buttons. She was aware that in a few seconds she would be touching another man's penis for the very first time. She had thought that the act would be repulsive; but in fact the opposite was the case, she was becoming highly aroused at the prospect. Finally she popped open the buttons on Brian's flies and her hand groped inside his trousers and found the sleek hard shaft and bulbous head of his penis. The musky smell of an aroused male sex organ wafted from his flies and her nostrils flared like a woman in heat. She slid her hand down until she felt his pubic hair, then through the coarse hair to the base of his cock. Michele slid her open hand up one side of his cock and down the other. It felt foreign; hot and hard, but with a soft smooth surface. She intertwined the fingers of both hands around the base of his cock and then slid them up the length of it, and rubbed her thumbs over the head. Each time she brushed the tip of his cock, Brian gasped a little. Brian's response was highly stimulating and she moaned into his mouth as she kissed him passionately, her lipstick smearing on his mouth. She raked her red painted nails along the smooth shank of his erection and felt his penis pulse and strain, the thick veins bulging prominently along the smooth shaft. Michele started to stroke his cock like that, using both hands on his penis. Brian grunted and started raising his hips to meet her downward strokes. He began to fuck Michele's hands. Michele looked down at Brian's cock moving in and out of her hands when he gently eased her mouth from his and spoke. "Michele, hold on a minute please; I don't want to come yet" he pleaded She stopped stroking, but didn't take her hands off his cock. She could feel it pulsing in her hands. Michele decided that she was going to bring on Brian's orgasm, she was very excited by the experience of touching another man's cock, but she was also determined that this was as far as she would ever go with another man. She had drawn a line in the sand in her mind; masturbation was ok, but anything else would be perverted. Michele held Brian's shaft lightly in her fingers and rubbed his glans across the welt of her stocking. Brain groaned and pulled her face back to his and thrust his tongue inside her hot, wet mouth. Brian was intensely stimulated by Michele's ministrations but he was still in control. He was letting her take the lead for a while but he was determined that this bitch was going to find out who was ultimately in charge; she would soon learn that he knew her all about her secret. Brian guided one of Michele's hands back to his cock and bought the other to his chest. She needed no more urging and she groaned at her hand came in contact his erection and the fingernails of her other hand scoured his chest. She gently took Brian's cock in her fingers and began to slowly traipse her fingers around it, over its length and then back down the shaft. She then placed the hard flesh of his penis against the soft; nylon encased flesh of her thigh and rolled it against the diaphanous material of her stocking. Brian humped at Michele's leg, his glans secreting a thin silvery thread of pre-seminal fluid that glistened on the dark welt of Michele's stocking. He was building to his orgasm, not yet close enough that he couldn't control it, but he wanted release, and it would not be against her legs or her feet as much as she thought it might be. Brian had other plans for Michele Rodgers. Brian continued to kiss and embrace Michele but he snaked one hand away from her and reached for his jacket. He fumbled around until his fingers found one of the pockets; they closed around a small glass jar. Brian extracted the jar from the pocket and with some difficulty, he one-handedly unscrewed the lid. He put his fingers inside the jar and scooped up a dollop of the contents and bought his hand down to his erection, and easing Michele's fingers out of the way, he smeared his shaft with a generous coating of Vaseline jelly. Michele was initially confused when Brian pushed her had away from his cock; at first she thought he just wanted her to stop stimulating him for a while. Then she felt him take his own shaft in his hand and she broke away from the kiss and looked down at his lap. Brian's fierce erection stood out proud of his trousers, the glans an angry red. It was glistening with a coat of viscous emulsion. Then the odour of the Vaseline wafted up to her and she realised what it was. Did he want more lubrication? Wasn't his pre-seminal fluid lubrication enough? Did he have a fetish for Vaseline as well as nylons? Brian moved his hands to Michele's thighs and pushed at her skirt until it was rucked around her buttocks and then slid his hands under her buttocks and lifted her up. He pulled her towards him and pushed his groin forward. Michele suddenly realised what Brain was doing; he was trying to fuck her! My god! What would happen when he found out she was a man! Would he be disgusted? Would he hit her? Would he scream abuse at her? Would he tell everyone her secret? Michele began to panic and tried to squirm free. "No, no, no, no, no, nooooooooooooo!" she screamed. "We can't do this. Put me down! Put me down Brian!" she begged. "Oh don't worry Michele, we can and we are going to do this!" Brian hissed. Brian's fingers were digging into Michele's buttocks entwined in her satin panties and he pulled the gusset to one side exposing her bare buttocks and sphincter. "No! Brian! It's not what you think!" Michele beseeched him to stop. Brian payed no heed and wriggled his hips until his erect penis was positioned directly underneath Michele's soft white buttocks. He lowered her slightly and he felt his cock nestle against Michele's anal bud. Michele wriggled and fought in his lap; she put her feet on the floor and tried to push herself up and away from the greasy weapon snuggled between her buttocks. Brian let go of Michele's thighs and buttocks and placed his hands on her shoulders. He strained and pushed Michele down into his lap whilst wriggling his groin to keep his penis positioned at the entrance to her anus. Michele fought against him but Brian was too strong for her; she was losing the struggle and slowly being forced down into Brian's lap. She felt the Vaseline covered tip of Brian's glans against her anal opening and she gave one last upward shove to try to escape her fate. "Please Brian; please don't do this," she begged. Brian looked into her pretty painted face and smiled evilly. "I'm sorry luv, but you bought this on yourself," he said. Brian pushed down on Michele's shoulders with all his strength and slowly impaled her on his phallus. Michele screamed and Brian clamped his mouth over hers and shut off her cries. Brian started to push up hard as his cock slid slowly inside Michele's anus. Michele felt her sphincter stretch as Brian's glans began to invade her, the lubrication of the Vaseline easing the invading member's passage. The initial pain was almost unbearable and tears ran down Michele's cheeks leaving trails of mascara as Brian's cock continued to intrude into her bowels. Brian was still kissing Michele despite her moans and cries, his he continued to push her down into his groin but he slackened his grip slightly and gradually changed from a vice grip to a hug. He fluttered gentle kisses on Michele's cheeks, eyelids and then kissed her lips. "Easy Michele, relax, its ok," Brian tried to sooth her. Michele was now fully violated as Brian's cock forced its way completely inside her and her soft buttocks rested on his groin. She forced herself to relax the muscles of her sphincter and back passage and finally the last inch of Brian's cock was inserted inside her; he was buried in her anus up to the hilt of his shaft. Michele put her high heels back on the floor and took up some of the weight of her body so that Brian's cock was not jammed so uncomfortably inside her. Her tears and sobs began to stop as she resigned herself to the situation. Brian lifted her slightly and then let her own weight lower her back down. He was slowly fucking her. As Michele felt the gentle thrusting inside her, she forced herself self to relax further and Brian's cock was able to thrust in all the way, deep into her bowels causing her very little pain. As her buttocks came down into his groin he released his grip on her shoulders and rubbed his hand along her stockinged thigh, further stimulating himself. Sensing Michele's compliance Brian dropped his other hand to her buttocks and stroked her slinky satin panties. Michele began to realise that the slow fucking was actually arousing her; she felt pleasantly full; the base of Brian's shaft stimulated her sphincter whilst his glans stimulated her prostate gland deep in her bowel. She never realised that anal sex could actually be pleasant for the recipient. With her feet firmly planted on the floor Michele could control the rhythm of the fucking and she flexed her knees and slowly moved her lower body up and down letting the tip of Brian's cock come all the way out to the ring of her sphincter and then lowered herself down on him until his entire length was buried inside her and his groin rubbed against her pantied buttocks. She lowered her mouth to Brian's and kissed him fervently thrusting her tongue into his mouth. "You bastard!" she panted into his mouth, "You knew all along!" "I didn't figure it out until this morning luv, but let's talk about that later," Brian gasped. He pulled Michele's lips down to his and thrust up to meet her and slid his tongue into her mouth. They slowly fucked, Brian matching his thrusts to her rhythm; he scrunched her pantied arse and eased his cock in and out of her. He moved his hands to her thighs and rubbed her stocking legs. Michele reached out and locked her arms around him as they kissed passionately. Brian took hold of Michele's garter straps and leaned back into the lounge to he could look as Michele sitting astride him. She was lovely; her heavily made up face framed by the brunette bob; she looked even sexier now because of her racoon eyes caused by her crying episode and her ruby red lipstick was smeared around her mouth from their the fervour of their kissing. Her suit jacket was open and her false breasts thrust against her white silk blouse. His eye followed her body down to where her tight skirt rucked around her waist exposing her creamy white thighs above her stocking welts; he entwined his fingers in the garters of her bustiere; her legs shimmered, sheathed in the seamless flesh toned stockings. The smell of her perfume mingled with the musk of their sex assaulted his nostrils, exciting him further. Brain lay back timing his thrusts as Michele slowly lifted and lowered herself up and down, impaling herself on his rampant cock. Brian took Michele's buttocks in his hands and squeezed, pulling her down against him and Michele issued a guttural moan. She adjusted her position putting more of her weight on Brian; and putting more direct pressure on her prostrate gland as she writhed, impaled on Brian's cock. Michele leaned forward and rocked against Brian, her hands falling forward, landing on either side of his shoulders, then she pulled back as she braced herself against him. She slid forward and back, and rose up and down, feeling an intense pleasure emanating from her back passage unlike anything she had ever experienced before; she threw her head back and moaned. "Oh god Brian, I'm going to come!" Michele moaned. "Oh.........me too; I'm so close." Brian gasped. Brian leaned forward and let go of her garters and grabbed her hips. Michele bounced up and down on his lap plunging Brian's hard phallus in and out of her, her motion irregular and choppy as she got closer to orgasm. Brian clutched at her hips and thrust up against her, adding his own movements to their sexual frenzy. Michele's breathing suddenly became laboured and she stopped rocking. "Oh my god here I go!" Her fingers dug into Brian's shoulders. Brian continued to push his penis deep into Michele's anus, increasing her stimulation as his cock began to convulse. He thrust into her, slowly, deliberately knowing that he wasn't going to last much longer. Michele arched her back, dug her fingers into his shoulders and bore down against him as she moaned. They were both about to climax. Michele bore down on Brian, impaling herself on his shaft and wriggled her buttocks as her orgasm shook her body. Her own penis, only semi- erect, but freely leaking pre-seminal fluid suddenly spasmed and she flooded the front of her satin knickers. The hot sticky pool of semen saturated her knickers and soaked through the satin and began to drip down onto her thighs, staining her tan stocking welt a darker shade of brown. Brian pulled Michele down on to his penis as he shuddered with the paroxysm of pure pleasure radiating from his groin, travelling upward through his body. As he ejaculated streams of hot semen deep into Michele's bowels; he shuddered and groaned. He was experiencing the most intense orgasm of his life as this fully dressed transvestite slut writhed in his lap, milking him of the last of his seed. They both slowly came down from their orgasms and as their shuddering and moaning subsided Michele leaned forward and kissed Brian gently on the lips and when Brian responded, the kiss became hot and feverish as the last dribble of Brian's issue was deposited deep inside Michele and the last trickle of her semen expelled into her panties. They kissed for a few minutes, neither of them saying anything until the afterglow of the sex began to slowly dissipate. Brian reached for his jacket again and this time he produced a handkerchief from one of the pockets. He dabbed it on Michele's thighs, cleaning away the sticky mess and then as he eased Michele up and off him and wiped at his semen and Vaseline coated, slowly deflating penis. Michele took the handkerchief from him and wiped between her buttocks and pulled her panty gusset back in place and then adjusted her skirt as she stood up. She could feel the pool of semen in the front of her panties soak into the material of her skirt. "I think I need to clean myself up a bit and change my underwear and skirt," Michele giggled. "But that was lovely. You knew my secret you bastard!" she chided Brian. "Not until this morning; and to be honest I didn't know what I was going to do. I was wondering what it would be like to fuck a transvestite but I was still unsure about whether I would go through with it until I got here. When you met me at the door dressed like that, you took away any reservations I had," he grinned. "Now; while you get cleaned up and changed, I'll clean myself up in the kitchen and pour us both a drink. I think we need to talk after what's just happened between us," Brian said. "Yes, I think so," Michele replied. Brian lit them both a cigarette and Michele took hers and took a heavy drag as she turned to leave room. Brian reached out and slapped her playfully on the buttocks. "Cheeky cow!" Michele reproached him. "Wait until you come back down here Michele; I've got some great Aristoc stocking you're going to look fantastic in," Brian smiled, the small creases in the corners of his eyes crinkling. Michele left the room with self-satisfied smile on her face and walked towards the staircase.