Hotwife Chapter 3A The Continuation Of My Hotwife s Weekend
- 3 years ago
- 60
- 0
My New Wife Chapter 6 free porn video
Chapter 6: Layla and I meet in real life
The next day was Saturday. I thought about the videos. The redhead began
as an androgynous boy in the videos. Over the three videos with her in
it, she became a woman. Her cock was cut off. She got breast implants.
If I hadn't seen the first video, I wouldn't have known she wasn't always
a woman. Maybe that's what's going to happen to the asian girl. Maybe
she'll become all girl?
That morning, I went to the bookmarked site. The videos were all gone! I
went to google and searched there. I couldn't find them. I was in a bit
of a panic. I had 9 videos left to watch, and they're all gone!
I closed my browser, and stared at the wallpaper of the asian girl's
pretty face and blissful smile while being ass fucked.
I concentrated on that, and jerked off successfully.
After cleaning myself up, I went upstairs and took a shower. When I came
out of the shower, there was water dripping out of the ceiling of the
room with my computer in it. I put the trash can underneath it to catch
the water and called the plumber.
The plumber arrived after I emptied the trash can twice. The first time
had all the tissues from jerking off, all soaked from the leak. The
second time was a full trash can of water.
The plumber opened the ceiling and fixed the leak. While he was in there,
he noticed my computer's wallpaper.
"Very pretty girl," he said.
"Yes, she is," I said.
"Your girlfriend?" he asked.
"I wish," I said.
"Do you know her?" he asked.
I was a little creeped out. "No, but I'd like to," I said.
"I've seen her somewhere," he said.
"She lives in town here," I said.
"That's probably it," he said.
After the plumber left, I decided that I'd call her phone number, just to
meet her in person and chat.
It was at that moment I realized the piece of paper with the phone number
was in the trash can that had taken all the water.
I rushed out to the outside bin and retrieved the soggy mass of tissues
and papers from the trash. Frantically, I searched for the paper. When I
found it, my heart sank. The ink had run. All that was visible were the
last few of the numbers.
I went back to my computer. I typed in my area code and the 4 digits that
I knew, and the word "sex".
I was shocked when google came back with only one hit, a craigslist
personals posting:
"Asian girl wants husband. T4M" was the title. I opened it up. Inside was
a picture of the girl in a sun dress, wearing her falsies. The rest of
the ad said:
"Amazing asian girl with sunny disposition requires husband. I'm a girl,
but I have the original male parts down below. You should not be freaked
out by this. I hope to someday be all girl, even down there. People tell
me I'm pretty, and no one can tell I'm not a genetic girl until they'd
see what is in my panties. I'm 30 years old, 5'4" tall, 104 pounds, non-
smoker, non-drinker, thin, athletic, drug and disease free. You must be
around my age, small in stature, non-smoker, thin, and drug and disease
free. Not looking for a limp wristed lisping gay male. Please be just a
normal guy. Let me be clear. I'm not looking for a casual sex hook up or
men who want to explore their sexuality. Send a clear picture of
yourself, not one of your junk, and your phone number for real
consideration. My phone number is: (deleted), but only call me after
we've chatted via email."
The phone number wasn't there. So, I found a picture of myself taken at a
corporate event, and sent it to her, with this message:
"Hi, my name is Tony. I saw your ad and I'm interested. I'm 5'7" tall,
athletic, drug and disease free. I've never been with a girl like you,
but am open to it. I'm totally normal, and have a good professional job.
My phone number is: 111-555-1111. I'm in your town, over on Elm Street."
It looked ok to me, so I hit "send".
I read the newspaper online, which took a while, and was about to turn
off the computer when the "new email" chime went off.
There was an email from "Layla". Now I had a name to put to the face. It
said:
"I'm not looking for guys who want to experiment."
I was crushed, but I think she got the wrong impression. So, I wrote back
with this go-for-broke message:
"Not experimenting. I saw a video of you online and fell in love with the
whole package."
I hit "send" and turned off the computer. If she was going to reject me,
I didn't need to sit by the computer all day to not get a reply, or a
reply that said "buzz off".
As I was walking into my kitchen a minute later, my phone rang. The
caller id showed a local number, and it looked like Layla's number.
"Hello," I said.
"Hello, this is Layla. Is this Tony?" she said. Her voice sounded 100%
female.
"Yes, I'm Tony. Thank you for calling me," I said.
"I'm sorry I was so abrupt in responding to your first message. I get 40
or 50 emails a day from guys who are looking for a fast hook up and want
to experient," she said.
"No problem at all. I completely understand," I said.
"You said you saw a video of me online?" she asked.
"Yes, I saw one a week or so ago with you in a cosplay schoolgirl
outfit," I confessed.
"My jerk ex boyfriend posted a number of videos we made. I've been trying
to get them down for the last few weeks. It looks like he's been posting
them for a long time, without my knowledge, and they're all over the
Internet now," she said
"That's not particularly nice," I said.
"No, he was not nice. It took me a year to figure out what was going on.
His former girlfriend, Ginger, was the one who told me. She found videos
of herself posted online," she said.
"So, he's a serial jerk," I said, not saying anything about seeing other
videos from the ex boyfriend.
"I really thought he was the guy, even though he was a swinger. He was so
nice, right up to the point where he suggested, then demanded, I get
breast implants," she said.
"It could be worse. He could have demanded you get his name tattooed on
you," I said.
"You've seen the cosplay video, so you know I have a tattoo of my phone
number on my cock, right?" she asked.
"Yes, I know. But that's not as bad as someone's name tattooed on you," I
said.
"That's true," she said.
"One thing I need to ask you about, before we go on," I said.
"Which is?" she asked, a little defensive.
"I'm pretty much ok with you the way you are. You don't need big boobs,
or even a pussy to be a girl in my eyes. But, if you do decide to do any
body modifications, you'd consult with me first, if we were in a serious
and committed relationship, right?" I asked, knowing this could be a case
where she may have strong opinions on what she can do to herself.
"If we were in a serious and committed relationship, I would discuss
anything like that with you first," she said.
"Excellent. Would you like to meet for coffee?" I asked.
"How about brunch tomorrow?" she replied.
"That would be very nice. Would you like to meet at the Piedmont? I
understand they have a lovely brunch buffet," I asked.
"Is Noon ok?" she asked.
"Noon would be fine with me," I replied.
"If you don't look like your picture, I won't be able to find you," she
said.
"The picture I sent is only a few months old. I look pretty much like my
picture," I said.
"Good. Then I'll see you tomorrow," she said.
"Thank you. I'm looking forward to meeting you," I said.
"Good bye, until tomorrow," she said.
"Good bye," I said, and hung up.
I immediately went upstairs and picked out something appropriate to have
brunch in. I found nothing. I realized that, not being a gay man, I had
no sense of style. Layla clearly would expect someone who would date her
to be stylish.
I drove to the local men's shop. I walked the aisles until someone
approached me and asked if I needed help. I explained that I was meeting
a gay friend the next day and wanted to be at least as stylish as he was.
I explained we were going to the Piedmont for brunch, and I'd need
clothing for that. If the friend approved the clothing, I made it clear
I'd be back for an entire wardrobe. The sales person gave me a limp
wristed wave, and hooked me up with a cable knit sweater (wrapped, not
worn), a very classy pale yellow shirt from a designer I never heard of,
blue pleated pants, yellow socks, and some pointy toed black oxxfords,
after I confessed I only owned one pair of dress shoes, brown. I have to
say, when I put it on, I liked the overall look.
The next morning I waited in my underwear until 11am, not wanting to mess
up the new clothes with wrinkles. I arrived at the Piedmont at 11:40, and
stood outside by the door. By 12:00, I got a little panic-y about whether
Layla was going to show up. At 12:15, she walked through the doors,
leaving the Piedmont. I called to her.
"Layla. I'm here," I said.
She turned. "I was waiting inside," she said.
"I've been waiting outside since 11:40," I confessed.
"I've been inside since 11:30. I didn't want to be late. When it got to
be 12:15, I figured you had gotten cold feet," she said.
"No, not me. I actually disciplined myself this morning to not show up at
10am," I said.
She giggled.
I laughed back.
"She we go in?" I asked.
"Let's do that," she said, taking my arm and leading me into the
restaurant.
We had a very nice brunch. We spoke about what we like to do in our spare
time, what we do for a living (she's a nurse), and our hobbies. As the
restaurant emptied at 2pm, we decided to continue in the restaurant's
bar.
The conversation was light and pleasant. She told me about her childhood
and college, some of the difficult years when she wore men's clothing but
knew she wasn't male, and her siblings accepting her long before her
parents did. I talked about my job, being picked last in every gym class
in High School, and the joy of being able to redeem myself in College. I
talked about my hobbies. She talked about her collection of Japanese
Manga. She and I both laughed when she confessed she doesn't read
Japanese, so she has no idea what the comics are actually about.
I started to get hungry, and looked at my watch. It was 7:30pm, and we
had been talking all afternoon and evening. I suggested we move back to
the dining room for dinner. She accepted.
Back in the dining room, we pretty much had the whole room to ourselves.
It was then she opened up to me. She confessed that her boyfriend had
made at least a dozen videos of her, often with another person. I
confessed that I had seen four of them. We talked about the four I'd
seen. She confirmed the redhead was Ginger. She was a little ashamed
because she let her boyfriend dictate to her that she do specific things
in the video, like getting the tattoo, and then saying she was owned by
her "Mistress", and having to have sex with men she didn't know and would
never have even considered. She said that Ginger was completely mortified
to learn that the video of her giving "a hundred" blowjobs to raise money
for her breast implants was posted by her ex. I asked about the camera
operator. She said that was her boyfriend. Years ago, he was convinced he
was a woman and had breast implants. He still has them, even though he
decided he's not a woman now. When dinner ended, she said she'd like to
see me again. We arranged a date for Tuesday night. I confessed that I
was an un-stylish heterosexual male and had to go to the men's store to
get the clothing that I was presently wearing, and would have to do that
again tomorrow night for a Tuesday date. She laughed and told me she was
wondering who picked out my clothes.
She gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek as we left. It was sweet.
Julianne
- 01.06.2021
- 12
- 0
My wife becoming a hotwife 1
- 4 years ago
- 38
- 0
This is part 2 of how my wife became a Hotwife
- 3 years ago
- 49
- 0
