The Long Con free porn video

The Long Con By Amy B "You really don't remember do you?" quipped Tracy. I shook my head no. "About three months ago, you were fixing your makeup in the ladies room here and I was making out in one of the stalls and you yelled 'get a friggin' room sluts', it was then that we decided to teach you a lesson." I guess I should back up a little bit. I'm a closet transvestite. After moving from my wholesome Midwestern town and hiding my proclivities, I found myself in the big city. I found friends online and acceptance and became brave enough to go out dressed... in certain places, where it's accepted and even encouraged. One of my favorite clubs has been Drumbeat. It's off the beaten path, it's huge, so I can blend in with the numbers, it basically an old warehouse. They accept all kinds here, freaks, goth, gay, trannys like me. The music is loud and droning and they have strobing lights and blacklights that pulse intermittently, showing off an array of colors and highlights, and keeping me out of the 'real light' intermittently. I try to look as passable as I can, and with the help of my new girlfriend I'm getting better. Yes that's right I said girlfriend, the one that's berating me now. See I'm not gay, I just like dressing. I don't go to the clubs to hook up, I just like to be out, dressed. It gives me a thrill. Although if I must be truly honest, between you and me, I often have fantasized what it might be like, you know, to 'really' play the role of a girl to the fullest. At 5 foot 6 I'm a little on the short size for a boy, but just about average for a girl. I have been blessed with what I call my 'little girl's feet' too, wearing a women's size 8. It's actually harder for me to find shoes in my size as a boy than it is to find cute flats and heels. I'm in my mid to late 20's and about 120 pounds. I don't have big shoulders or muscular arms, I'm just basically kinda average as a guy, but as a girl, with the right wig and makeup and a good set of fake boobs, I look pretty passable. My girlfriend's been super awesome. We met here a while back. She loves that I dress and has been not only accepting but encouraging. We share clothes, go shopping together. The sex has ben amazing, she's even tried some kinky stuff with me, things involving dildos and the like. She's also a little bit Bi, and has made out with other girls, which I think is pretty hot. Tonight has been a weird night. I mean I think I'm pretty cute, and don't get me wrong, I do get hit on, but for some reason tonight it's been different. The come-ons have been pretty graphic and specific. I mean I've had at least 5 to 10 guys ask me for blowjobs. All of which I politely decline thank you very much. It's starting to irritate me to the point where I'm starting to get a little short with them. One guy said that I should be sued for 'false advertising'. Whatever. So I'm wearing a blue plaid kick-pleat skirt that goes above my knees, white knee-socks and black patent leather Mary Janes, a pastel yellow peter pan collar shirt with a red tie, but not like a necktie, it's one of those short things that just snaps in the center.....okay it's called a criss-cross tie, and my black wig is in braided pigtails. Okay so yes, I look like a tarted up catholic schoolgirl, but 'false advertising'? Really? It was my girlfriend Tracy's idea, and I think it's cute. I've worn things just as risqu?/provocative/slutty here before and not generated near the kind of response as tonight. What is the deal? Must be a full moon or something I guess. One guy got irate with me because he insisted I blew his friend an hour ago and was mad that I wouldn't do him too. As if. I told him he must have been mistaken. This place is eclectic, but I wasn't the only gurl, or girl in a schoolgirl outfit. There are more than a few themed outfits that get a lot of play here. Wearing a catholic schoolgirl getup here was like wearing a stormtrooper costume to ComiCon. Whatever. I don't think I can oversell the sheer scale of this place though. When I say warehouse, it's probably more like an airplane hangar or even a blimp hangar in its size. Twice as long as it is wide at least, super high ceilings, very utilitarian and industrial. Huge dance floor, skyboxes/VIP areas upstairs looking down, and several bars, pockets and alcoves. And the lights. Hung up in the rafters, above the main floor but below the skyboxes- so all the VIP's can look down and get a commanding view. The strobing blacklights were the thing. Pulsing intermittently. Sometimes people would wear clothing and makeup to accentuate that. Sometimes it could show off imperfections to though. More on that later. So I think the stage is appropriately set. I hope I've given you a good sense of place and painted enough of a visual picture of where I was at. But let's get to the meat of things, which is what you came here to read about in the first place right ;) So I'm up in one of these VIP rooms with Tracy and like three of her female friends. How she scored one of these rooms I don't know, but it's pretty sweet. Plush leather couches, muted lighting, bottle service, and a really nice view of the dance floor and the main bar. "So you don't remember," she repeated. "Think hard sweetie pie." I did remember, although a bit vaguely, yes. I was putting on lipstick in the bathroom and two people were going at it in one of the stalls. I saw one set of pants and a girl with bare legs and heels on her knees...and moans. I DO remember saying 'get a room'. I just thought it was rude. The bathroom is supposed to be a 'safe place'. I've had a lot of guys try to follow me, and been able to duck into the safety of the women's room. It's kind of like 'base' when playing tag when you were a kid. You can't be tagged when you're on 'base'. Sometimes guys are brave enough to try to follow you in, but are usually met with an aggressive girl that shoos him away. It was my safe place and I just felt like the sluts in the stall were ruining the sanctity of that. I recalled this to Tracy and the others but didn't know why they were asking. "That was me and Melissa in there thank you very much, we waited for you to leave, but I made sure to take note of your shoes and your outfit through the door," This was a shock and a revelation. I knew my girlfriend had lesbian 'tendencies' but I thought it started and stopped with making out and maybe some heavy petting. "Oh sugar that's so cute. Look how confused she looks," said Tracy. "'Melissa is and always has been my girlfriend and life partner, for like what, eight years now?" If I looked confused before, I was ten times more confounded now, but the worst was yet to come. "You were my most challenging project ever" she said. "I...we, decided to teach you a lesson, one that you will never forget, and we had some fun with it, and we're about to have even more." "Initially, I was insulted and just wanted to embarrass you, but when I learned more about you, I came to understand you more and even become fond of you and felt sorry for you and decided I wanted to help you too, because you were never going to do it yourself." "It was easy to come up to you in the bar and get your attention and get you to fall for me. You like girls. You like the female form. You identified with me and I took you under my wing. As a clinical psychologist, your 'case' became interesting. Over the last few months I've been drugging your 'nightcaps' to put you in a semi-hypnotic state. You've been sharing with me things about your life, and your innermost thoughts and desires, and meanwhile, I've been conditioning and preparing you to 'come out of your shell' with the motivational tapes I've been having you listen to at night, when I wasn't questioning you in your sleep-dream state." "I know more about you than your own mother, more about you than you even know or understand or accept about yourself and your true nature." Hypnotic states? Conditioning? The motivational tapes? "I thought those were 'confidence' tapes!" I shrieked. "Oh they were sweetie, more than you know. In addition to helping give you the confidence to accept your true nature, and identify as female, and be more and more comfortable living a female role...I've given you the confidence to overcome your fears and try things you've literally only dreamed of." "What are you talking about, accept my true nature? Try what things? You're scaring me Tracy!" "Silencio Mujer," she said. Immediately I became calm and passive, my anxiety was gone and I was intently listening to everything Tracy had to say in earnest. "Good. Like I said, my initial knee jerk reaction was to punish you, but as a lesbian who lives in a world of judgement and sometimes ridicule myself, I soon realized the error of my intentions and turned a corner. Granted I still find this hilarious and have enjoyed watching you all night. It more than makes up for all the times I had to pretend to be your girlfriend and do all the things a girlfriend does, including kissing and handling and accepting that disgusting penis of yours. But you've almost made up for that tonight dear. I hate judgement and ridicule as much as anyone. Melissa and I have an active sex life and we like to spice things up with exhibitionism and sometimes we just can't keep our hands off of each other, and when you chided us doing what comes naturally and lovingly and passionately to us, I was filled with nothing but rage. I decided that very night that I was going to do the 'long con' on you. Convince you to become my boyfriend, let you take me into your confidence, and exploit those revelations in as embarrassing a way as possible." "I've created a post-hypnotic suggestion, when you hear a certain phrase, you will let go of all inhibitions and do as pre-programmed without thinking, and have no memory of it until I utter another phrase, at which time you will remember everything in embarrassing detail. I picked out this outfit for you on purpose. Your conservative upbringing and Catholic guilt have repressed how you truly feel inside and tonight is the night that we break you free of them for good. One night after having sex, I made sure to keep some of your semen and, diluted with some water I put it in a little syringe. I took your blouse and on the back, I wrote, in semen with the syringe squirting it out and writing like a pen the words "Ask me about smokin' head". That is your trigger phrase. Every time you hear that phrase, your mind will go blank and you'll immediately turn to whoever uttered the phrase, grab them by the hand, and your pre-programmed response is "Why don't you let me show you instead sweetie," where you will then walk him to a pre-established spot outside in the parking lot, blow him to completion and eagerly swallow every drop of cum. You will then mindlessly walk back into the club and go on about your business with no memory or recall of what you just did." Although still in my calm, trance-like state, I shook my head no. "I don't believe you," I said. Still calm. It just didn't make any sense. "Well honey, your pre-programmed spot was actually a straight line out the re-entry door to the club, about 50 yards away, in the parking lot, between two cars, and under a street lamp, giving a full show to anyone walking by, or out having a smoke. Oh and also, conveniently, there's a security cam on the street light," She then began to play the tape, and sure enough, a girl dressed like me walks into frame holding the hand of a guy in tow, stops at a very specific spot, drops to her knees, undoes his pants, drops the pants and underwear to his ankles and begins a delicate, then eventually enthusiastic blowjob. Caressing and licking balls, a few deep throat attempts, choking on some cock a little, looking up at his eyes, cupping the balls, stroking the shaft, this girl was a pro. Finally the guy starts whacking himself with the girl holding her mouth wide open and sticking her tongue out, with the head of his penis resting on her tongue. When he finally starts to cum she wraps her lips around his cock eagerly and as he starts pumping you can see her gulping and swallowing. He finally finishes, she strokes the shaft and milks him a little bit, licking one final drop of cum out of the hole before daintily kissing the head with a quick peck, looking up and saying what looks like 'thank you' and then getting up to mindlessly pull out a compact and re-apply her lipstick, leaving him to put on his pants on his own. I looked at the video quizzically and puzzled. "That's not me," I said calmly and matter of factly. She fast forwarded through the video and showed me at least five more. All different guys, all same girl, exactly same spot and same routine. "The thing about hypnosis and post-hypnotic suggestions is, you can't really get someone to do something they truly don't want to do," she said while fast forwarding through the tape like a couch debriefing a highlight reel from a football game. "I particularly like this play here," she said. "She tries to get it all in but this guy wants to give her a facial. Look, look there," she said, pausing the tape. "He manages to get one jet across the corner of her eye and a little in her hair before our little champ just gorges herself on the whole honkin' meat pipe," she said as she hit play for a few seconds then paused it again. "He was such a big cummer that some of it ran down her chin and onto that cute little tie of hers," she said pointing at the tie on the big screen. I looked down at the tie on my outfit and there was a splotch of a white stain in the exact place of the tie of the girl in the video. I thought that was strange. "Still not there hon?" Tracy said as her friends giggled. Melissa was sitting right next to her and they were cuddling and stroking each others arms and hair and just being overall very comfortable with one another. The rest of the girls were all sitting on couches, legs crossed and sexy, with shoes I was jealous of, watching and throwing in quips here and there as the video played. I stood between a leather chair and a red leather L-shaped sofa where all the girls were perched, facing straight at the tv and standing like a scolded child while they all looked up at me, exploring my reactions, which were still none as I was still in a trance-like calm. They kept looking back and forth between me and the tv, like a cat watching a tennis match. "Boy that parking lot sure took a toll on her knees huh," one of them said as they looked from the tv back at me. I looked down, and my knees were red, almost, but not quite to the point of bleeding. Scraped was all, but definitely two red knobby knees right above where my cute little knee socks ended. Still, I didn't associate my knees with the girl on the tv and didn't understand what they were making such a fuss about. "Oh shit I almost forgot," said Tracy. "I'm a little bit tipsy. I still haven't given you the piece for you to put this all together," she said as she swallowed her last gulp of champagne, refilling her glass halfway, and when the bottle ran out, stuffing it upside down into the silver bucket of ice. "Obviously, I had to use a word that you'd not normally hear in everyday conversation," She held up her glass and clinked it with her friends, and they all said in unison: "Schadenfreude," "It's a German word for which there is no word for word English translation, but it basically means taking pleasure in the misfortune of others. I thought it quite apropos for the occasion," she chirped. But I wasn't listening, because once she said the word, all memory and recall of everything I had done tonight suddenly and horrendously came flooding back to me. It was like going out and drinking too much and the a friend tells you the next day how crazy you were, and you don't believe them until they mention one detail which suddenly and embarrassingly brings the whole of the previous evenings escapades right back into the fore. But this was times one thousand. Instantly there was the recall, and the realization that the girl on the tape and me were one in the same. That I was that eager little cocksucker in the parking lot. That I sucked off what had to have been a dozen guys. I felt shame, embarrassment, horror. There was no disbelief, I knew it was me and I was beside myself. I shrieked, half fainted from the shock and gravity of it all, my knees buckled and I began weeping uncontrollably. I had never had a panic attack before, but I believe I was having a full on one right at that moment. As I was turning 16 shades of crimson and basically melting right in front of them, I saw some with a knowing smile, some holding their hand up to their face trying to hide a giggle and a smirk, a saw more than one "Aww, poor baby" face and expressions of genuine concern, and then I saw Tracy, un-emotive and stoic, straight faced, but clearly excited. "This is a breakthrough girls, wait. Silencio Mujer." I quickly calmed and stopped crying, I stood up straight, wiped my tears. It was like someone had given me a gigantic horse-pill of Valium or something. "Good, need you in this state, calm and responsive. I need you to listen," Tracy said. "You had a good time tonight. I'm not planting this as a suggestion into your head, I'm telling you something that deep down you already know, but through the stringent and narrow minded culture you grew up in, you have repressed and been shameful of almost your whole life. Who knows, if you were born in a different time or place, if you had grown up in San Francisco or some other more liberal and accepting city, you might have been the girl you always wanted to be years ago. You identify as female, and are more comfortable in dresses and panties than boxers and pants. Again I'm not planting this, I'm telling you something you already know. You left home to get away from the repression and you were blossoming when I met you, but you still had so much pent up reservation and guilt and shame, that you may have never crossed this threshold on your own. I took what might have been two to five years of experimentation and experience and condensed it into one night, you're welcome." What she was saying was making sense. I had always loved dressing, and had often wished I had been born a girl. I was caught a few times when I was younger and my mom asked me if I was going through an identity crisis, my dad threatened counseling. Finally I just sloughed it off as a joke, or a Halloween prank or whatever I could say to make them buy it. I think they begrudgingly knew that it was more than a 'phase' or a prank, and I think nobody was surprised or voiced too much protest when I decided to go away to college and move to a liberal city. "Now get past the 'shame' of what you've done. There's no shame in it. You had fun. If I had five bucks for every boy Jessica brought home after a night at the bars in college, or how many blowjobs Amy gave for a ride home, I'd probably have enough for another bottle of Cristal," "Hey," Jessica and Amy said, almost in unison, before a glare from Tracy and a knowing nod of acceptance from the two. "Another bottle please waiter," Tracy said into the speaker near the light switch. "Yes ma'am, right away," "Think about this- after every blowjob, what did you do," she said. "Fixed my makeup," I said sheepishly, but I knew what she was getting at. "Nooo. Before that," she quipped. "Said 'thank you'," I said shamefully. "That's right. I didn't notice it until we watched the tape. I never programmed that. The thank you and the lipstick were both your own doing, and it brings up a curious point," I tilted my head and looked quizzically. "That stuff was all you, and you did it every time. It tells me that number one, you enjoyed giving head, and number two, that you're concerned about your appearance as a girl, because that's what you consider yourself to be," she said. "Don't you see, you're not a gay man, you're a straight woman trapped in a male body. As normal as it is for you to feel comfortable in panties and a pair of leggings, it's equally comfortable and normal for you to be pleasing and attractive to men, be attracted to guys, maybe have a boyfriend," "What?" "Okay, I'm getting a little ahead of myself, today is basically your first day, and a few years of dick sucking for the average girl overwhelmingly smashed into one unforgettable night, sorry sweetie. You have to see it by now don't you? You keep your body completely hairless all the time, you feel naked without a coat of polish on your toes, you wear panties every day, and would probably wear a bra to work too if you thought you could get away with it. You're more of a girl than Melissa here, and she has a vagina!" Melissa feigned protest, but in her butch-ish pantsuit with Tracy perched in her lap just gave a knowing nod. The trance-like state I was in subsided, as everything Tracy started saying made more and more sense. She could see the change in me right on my face, as, through the course of our conversation, she saw my facial expressions and deportment change from fear, confusion, disbelief and shame, into that 'a-ha' moment and a light bulb going of and seeing revelation, and eventually acceptance take it's place. I didn't need any more hypnotism or mysticism, I was truly at peace with who and what I was, and for the first time in my life, accepted it fully and embraced it. I LIKED being a girl, and I wasn't going to stop. I suddenly became acutely aware of my appearance and was again embarrassed but not like before. "Jeez, I must look like the tarty little cum dumpster huh?" I said as I spit some saliva on a tissue I had in my purse and tried to dab clean my sticky chin, which was akin to trying to clean up a water spill on your floor with a soaking wet sponge. We all giggled as I straightened my skirt and brushed little pieces of blacktop and dirt off of my knees. Seeming to know and sense then change in me, Amy squealed 'Yaaaay, now Jess and I have someone to go clubbing and meet boys with," clapping her hands rapidly in front of her and looking directly at me. "Sorry," Amy said, "You lezzies can have each other, Trixie and I wanna go dance," she said playfully, taking me by the hand. Trixie was my 'girl' name and all this time I thought it was like an alter-ego. The name Trixie sounded like some '50's bimbo. Only now, just now... did I remember my Grandmother's name was Beatrix and I always admired her. She was one of the few people who were accepting of me back in Ohio. I missed her. Tracy looked at me and nodded and smiled as she came to see my reaction upon hearing this name and the revelation and acceptance on my face that followed. The champagne arrived before Amy could drag me, quite willingly onto the dance floor. We clinked our glasses and toasted. "To Trixie, our newest girlfriend," Tracy said. I gulped down my drink as Amy started pulling me towards the door to head downstairs when another shockwave hit me like a ton of bricks. "All those guys that asked me for a blowjob were doing it because in the blacklight there was literally a sign on my back!" "She's quick to catch on isn't she?" Melissa said. "So that guy that called me 'false advertising'?" "He didn't say the trigger phrase," Tracy said. "And the guy who said I blew his friend?" "Quite enthusiastically if I must say. The comical part is, if you look at the tape, after you thank him, you actually tell him to tell all his friends," I turned another few shades of red at that one, but did remember it. I was mortified, but again, not like before. "So every time I'm out there on ground level, and the black lights strobe...." I squealed. "There's a big sign on your back written in cum that says 'ask me about smokin' head'" Tracy finished. I blushed even more. "So how come I'm not eating you out right now?" I quipped. "Oh because it's only when a guy utters the trigger phrase, sorry hon." Tracy looked at the other and said "Wait for it..." It was like those investigative shows where they went to hotel rooms or guys' bedrooms with a blacklight, and you could see all the cum stains on the sheets glowing a phosphorescent bright white. As Amy kept trying to drag me towards the door, and as much as I did want to go dance, it finally clicked. "You bitch!" I said to Tracy. "Careful," Melissa cautioned, Tracy's face got a little scornful, but in as playful as a way as I had said 'you bitch'. I uttered the words but smiled. I was angry a little, but it brought me to where I am now and I feel good about that and couldn't have gotten there without a dozen cocks down my gullet I guess. "So not only do I have a glaring neon sign on my back that says 'ask me about smoking head' and a hypnotic suggestion to go off half cocked at every cock that says 'the phrase that pays," I whined, hands on my hips, like a petulant child. "Yes, you also have a mouth that sparkles glowing white from all the cum you swallowed and pockets of smeared cum down your chin and droplets on your eyebrow, hair and your little tie," Tracy finished my thought. "We call them sparkles," said Melissa playfully, with the couple giggling. "Why don't you ask a nice boy to buy you a drink," said Melissa as they both cackled almost uncontrollably. Tracy finally caught her breath. "I'm so sorry hunny," but look at where it's gotten you now. You have the life you already know you've wanted for years, be honest," I knew I couldn't take off the blouse, I had no change of clothes, and I couldn't very well go topless. I had glued the silicone breast forms to my chest with a special adhesive. That Tracy thought of everything. Melissa handed me a makeup wipe that I used to wipe my chin and eyebrow where it felt sticke. I hoped that would do the trick. Jessica texted Amy, she was already downstairs wondering where we were. "Let's go girl," Amy said. Who cares. We'll get you a yummy apple-tini with a straw so you don't have to open your mouth too much," she said matter of factly. Everyone could see the hesitation in my face. I wanted to go down, and finish my first night with my new life, but I was a regular here, I didn't want to be embarrassed out of my favorite bar. "Time to do the walk of shame Trixie," Melissa said, waving her hands in a "shoo" fashion. I realized her and Tracy wanted to be alone, probably for one of the first times since Tracy started fake dating me when she took me on as a project a few months ago. We were at the threshold of the door when I grabbed the sides and said "Wait!" Tracy and Melissa took a break from their liplock and looked up. "Turn it off!" I said. "Why Trixie whatever do you mean?" Tracy said demurely. "The suggestion, the post-hypnotic thingie, whatever," I said, stomping my somewhat dainty foot for dramatic effect, which wound up just looking more 'cute' than forceful or demanding. "See I told you she was smarter than she looked," Melissa said playfully. "Are you sure, you did seem to be having so much fun. More fun than I ever had with a cock I'm afraid, no offense," she said. "None taken, Off please" I said again. She sighed heavily, looked at Melissa and they shared some kind of knowing nod with each other before Tracy said "Ohhhh all right," quite dramatically and then said "Let's try this----and with a flourish of her hands and wrists said "Aurora borealis" or something equally nonsensical. I wasn't really paying attention, just impatient and refusing to go back down and be a robotic cocksucker. I wanted to do what I wanted to do on my own, if I was even going to do anything. "So that's it, it's done? You turned it off?" I said, still embarrassed about having a glowing sign on my back, and nervous about my pockmarked face under the glow but excited about going down and dancing. "Modified," she said. Seeing the concern on my face she added "Don't worry, you won't accept any more solicitations for smoking head," Relieved, I sighed. "Thank you," I said. "Thank you for everything," I said quite earnestly and appreciatively. "I would never have gotten here on my own without youooooo," I squealed as Amy, who had been tugging on me to go downstairs this whole time had finally gotten some leverage on me and managed to manipulate me down the stairs. "Modified?" Melissa asked. "Call it a 'going away present' for my boyfriend," making a point of saying 'boyfriend' with all the appropriate amount of sarcasm she felt it deserved. "After tonight, Trixie will have taken over, and I don't think any of us will ever see 'Travis' again," Travis was my boy name, but I was long gone to hear any of that last exchange. I was snugly and smugly in my chair at a high little four-top table with Jessica and Amy, skirt smoothed, legs crossed, foot swaying playfully, self consciously sipping on my apple-tini with a straw. Amy was right, these are yummy. I finished the whole thing and then we went out on the dance floor. Never leave a drink unattended, you never know if someone is gonna be sneaky and put you in a tight spot. I had hoped the noise and the crowd and the colored lights pulsing on the dance floor would help me blend in. I hoped it had the wipe had masked my tell-tale neon cum stains. I hoped none of the dozen or so guys I blew would see or recognize me, but mostly I hoped that Tracy had turned off that stupid post hypnotic suggestion. Overall though, these things started taking a back seat and the more I drank and the more I danced the less I worried. I was having a blast with the girls, better than any other good time I'd had before. It was different because I was different. This was not only who and how I wanted to be, all the time, but I had finally come to terms and not only accept that, but embrace it. That's what made it different. Then it happened. I was dancing with this cute guy and that's when it happened. The music had stopped and I had thrown my arms around him, and buried my head in his chest, exhausted. The DJ was talking so it was loud, but not as loud as the music and that's when he took me by the chin, tilted my head up and leaned into my ear and said... "How about some smokin' head?" with a smile. Quickly, and without thought or hesitation, it was almost like I was out of my own body...I looked him directly in those gorgeous blue eyes and said "Why don't you bend me over and back door me instead daddy, please" while grabbing and squeezing his semi-hard cock through his pants. Immediately I not only snapped out of my trance, but I had full knowledge and awareness of what I had just said. Holy shit! Modified indeed. I guess technically Tracy was right, I didn't accept an offer to give smoking head. Instead, I unconsciously grabbed a guys dick and pleaded for him to fuck me in the ass, then came to, realizing everything I'd just said and done. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. How can I get out of this? I mean, you can't just say, and do something like that, and then say 'just kidding' right? I was about to get ass-pounded and there was nothing I could do about it. I was nervous, scared, excited and yes, turned on...all at the same time. This was going to be a long night. As I was enthusiastically getting railed in...as luck would have it, the exact same bathroom stall that Tracy and Melissa were when I barked at them so many months ago, I heard two voices chime in unison "Get a room, sluts!" followed by guffaws of laughter and finally a calming down and cheers of encouragement. "Just kiddin' girl, you get yours," said one "See, I told 'ya it's fun," said the other. "Bye!" they enthusiastically chimed together as they walked out. I barely registered their comments though. With my skirt hiked up and my panties pushed to the side, all I could think about was this fantastic cock popping my cherry. I had gotten past the initial pain and was starting to buck my hips to meet his thrusts. Bent over, with one hand on the metal plumbing and my other forearm precariously perched on the toilet paper dispenser, all I could think about is how hot it felt for my glued on tits to be jiggling back and forth with his thrusts and how much I wished I had real ones so I could feel my nipples. My transition was complete I thought. Here I was getting railed and thinking about getting fake tits, how much more fem can you get...and then my orgasm started building. Oh my god please don't stop. Harder. Yes, yes, yes I squealed. Bucking my hips harder and faster I finally came like I had never cum before. I had the most amazing, toe curling orgasm of my life, and nobody even touched my peener. As I squealed and orgasmed and convulsed, the pulsing of my sphincter during my orgasm brought him over the edge, and while I was still squealing and wailing with pleasure, he came too and gave me a nice creamy finish as he groaned in pleasure and pumped his load into my now more than willing ass. I cleaned up as best I could, and gave him a peck on the cheek before he slinked out of the ladies room as I was once again fixed my lipstick. It struck me as a little odd that no one had come in or out of the bathroom except Melissa and Tracy, until I walked out, cheeks flushed, and even my pigtails had 'sex hair', and there in the doorway were all five of the girls cheering. They had blocked off the door to the restroom so we could be undisturbed. Turns out the guy was one of Melissa's friends from work and it was kind of a set-up deal. Tracy said the 'ala-kazam' words to finally get me out of any suggestive states and, as it was getting late, and I was every bit of a hot fucking mess the suggestion was made to get the hell out of here. I agreed, but not before I calmly and deliberately saw the guy who just banged me sitting at the bar talking to one of his friends. I confidently walked up to him, grabbed a bar napkin, pulled an eyebrow pencil out of my purse and delicately and expertly wrote 'Trixie', the eye dotted with a heart and my phone number followed by the words 'call me'. I then dabbed my lipstick over the words 'call me', folded the napkin in half and stuffed in his front shirt pocket and strutted away with a flip of my hair. Considering that I had cum leaking out of my ass and smearing between my buttcheeks and staining my panties I knew two things. Number one that I needed to get the hell out of here fast before the toll of the evening unraveled before everyone's eyes, and before close when the bright, blinding house lights make even Victoria's Secret models look like shit, and the other thing I knew, without even looking back, was that he was watching my ass wiggle all the way out the door. "Can I wear your pink dress tomorrow night Tracy?" I said as I hopped in the car. "Only if you've got a good dry-cleaner on speed dial 'ya little slut," she quipped playfully. -fin-