The Dice Game free porn video

The Dice Game Few novels can change your life. This one will Luke Rhinehart Cockcroft* [writing as L. Rhinehart] describes the origin of the title idea variously in interviews, once recalling a college "quirk" he and friends used to decide "what they were going to do that night" based on a die-roll, or sometimes to decide between mildly mischievous pranks. It has content that includes the protagonist's decisions to engage in rape and murder, and is described as having been "banned in several countries". (wikipedia) The odds of me rolling another double six were vanishingly small, 1/216, but then as everyone knows probability works in strange ways. I have known Dave and Brian for years, we shared a house together at university and have remained friends ever since. Although we'd been on different courses we always got on. We were all still single, but living in our own flats in London. As we still lived fairly close to one another we met up regularly every week or so: London is a tough place to get to know people outside of those you work with. Although we were studying very different things at Uni we all ended up in a similar field professionally, all working in the growing tech start-up space. Dave is an engineer and seemed to be doing really well at a fintech, Brian was a product manager for a comparison site, and I was working as a visual designer for a digital media company. While we were at uni "The Dice Man" was one of those cult books that had a sudden moment of popularity. We'd all read the book, and for a laugh and probably like most students that read it, we used the idea of rolling a dice to choose what to do sometimes, Dice weekends, we'd called them. We'd gone to some crazy bars because of it and had both awful and wonderful unexpected weekends, from hitch-hiking to Paris to rough sleeping. Mostly it would be something we would all do together, then sometimes a dare that one of us would do with the others watching so there was no backing out. After reading the book which had led to murder we'd always set a clear rule that no choice could lead to someone else getting hurt. We had also introduced a double or quits rule if someone was really uncomfortable about one of the choices they could ask for. As our studies got more intense towards graduation, we had gradually stopped playing it, but still, often as not, would use the dice to choose which bar to go to. A few months after we had started meeting again in London we realised we were in a bit of a rut. Every Thursday evening we'd meet at the Kings Head, have a couple of beers, and head home; we could see ourselves still doing the same when we were 40. "Right, this is getting painful, who's up for a dice game?" asked Dave, always the most keen. Brian and I were a little hesitant, but both agreed. We decided to throw the dice to see what we were going to do that weekend. So with going to Brighton, an all-night clubbing event and a sightseeing bus tour all on evens, that weekend saw us heading down to the coast for a weekend in Brighton. It was great, wandering around the Lanes, eating fish and chips and seeing a great band on the Saturday night, so it was no surprise that it became fairly regular again. Probably the best one was that we had to see who could get the furthest from London and back by Sunday night, without spending more than ?25 and without using a plane. It was agreed that we'd meet up at the Kings Head on the Sunday night with proof. Brian had won that one hands down, by chance having hitched a lift with a guy who was delivering something to Munich. One Thursday night we'd had one or two pints more than we should have done, I don't remember why, probably the end of one of our projects, and the conversation turned to sex. Brian started talking about a local adult cinema which allegedly had glory holes for the customers. "Sounds like a perfect opportunity for a Dice Game!" said Dave, and before we thought it through too much, we'd laid out the game; Total 2 - 7 we would all go to the adult cinema to check out what it was like, 8 - 11 we would all get a blowjob in a glory hole, Double six, one of us would give a blow job in a glory hole. And if it was a double six, whoever then rolled the highest die had the dare I knew the odds, we all did, we'd been playing often enough that we knew what the odds of each throw was, 1/36 that we'd get a double six, hardly worth worrying about. We always had a Russian roulette option like this to make it more exciting when we threw the dice. We all raised our glasses, probably bravado as much as anything else, and then as Dave had proposed the game, he rolled the dice. Double Six, Fuck, still, 1/3 it would be Dave or Brian so that would still be a laugh. We each threw a die in turn; Dave threw a one and I could see relief flow across his face and he handed the die to Brian. He picked it up like it was a hot coal, clearly petrified of what was now effectively a 50/50 chance. I watched him closely; throwing a five made him visibly pale and he handed the die despondently to me. I was relieved, yes there was still a small chance but the odds were clearly in my favour as I watched the white cube roll from my hand, the red dots barely visible as it rolled across the table. I didn't need to look: Dave and Brian cheering in amusement and relief told me that I had rolled a six. Fuck Now the thing was, I wasn't that bothered about having a man's cock in my mouth, and even the thought of the taste of a man's seed. I had thought about it often enough, but I really didn't want my friends to know that. So, although it would piss off my mates, I decided to use the double or quits option. I got another round in even though by now that was a pretty bad idea. The rules we had agreed were that they got to state what was double, and I got to state what I'd be prepared to do as quits, and I had to state it first. Wanting to appear as straight as possible, I said that if I got quits I would go there and get a blow job, but I wasn't prepared to give one. Dave and Brian chatted for a while before saying, "OK, you remember at Uni you dressed in drag for a couple of fancy dress parties? ( At uni there had been a couple of times when it had been relatively easy for me to dress in drag for a party, the freshers ball had a theme of "tarts and vicars" so I borrowed a dress and bra from a new friend and bought some heels from a charity shop and styled my long hair. Then there had been the rocky horror Halloween party which just cried out for me to dress. Unfortunately at that one I was the most convincing girl and it had obviously stuck in their minds.) So, If you get another double six, you still get to give a blowjob, but you turn up dressed in drag" Dave and Brian pissed themselves laughing at this, we all knew that the odds of me rolling another double six were vanishingly small, 1/216, but they got to have a laugh anyway. I decided I might as well get this over so I could get firmly back into my closet. I picked up the dice. As I shook them in my hand I really wasn't sure what I wanted the outcome to be. I threw them across the table, one of them ricocheting off Dave's beer glass and then both of them coming to a slow stop in the middle of the table. Double Six. Fuck Dave and Brian cheered, they knew they'd won. Their cheers were as much a sense of relief as anything and while I'd lost, the cheers were still those of friends. In our time we had all done some weird stuff because of the dice. What they didn't know was that as I now lived in my own flat I spent many evenings dressed. I had on purpose found a quiet flat with its own front door and plenty of storage space. Over the couple of years I'd been there my wardrobe had grown from the small bag that was possible to easily hide, to taking up half the wardrobe space in my flat. I had many inappropriate clubbing dresses that I often as not wore while talking to "admirers" on video chat, as I had normal clothes that I could go out to a restaurant in should someone invite me. I had been invited, although most of the invites had been to someone's house, or more often someone inviting themselves around to my flat. I hadn't invited anyone to my flat, I was just not ready for that yet, but I had started to accept a couple of invitations out to restaurants, so I knew I passed pretty well. I had never accepted more than a goodnight kiss from a man though. I thought I looked good, but I was just too worried about being laughed at or rejected once they were in post orgasm guilt. "Look, it's OK," Dave said, "you've got tomorrow evening and Saturday morning to get yourself a skirt" Brian added, "Yeah, and some heels, no chickening out with jeans, trainers and a pink sweatshirt!" Meanwhile I was just wondering what I should wear, at least I wore my hair in a style that I knew I could style in a very feminine way, very easily. I barely listened as they laid out the plan, we'd meet at the Starbucks close to New Cross tube station at around three o'clock on Saturday afternoon. We would all go to the glory hole and they would wait until they saw the room occupied beside the cubicle I'd gone into. Then they would leave me to it and we would meet up at eight o'clock that evening back at the King's Head. I could hardly think the next day at work; as much as anything I had a rotten hangover, on top of the realisation of the dare crashing back onto me as my morning caffeine fix cleared my head. Luckily my workday was pretty busy so I had little time to dwell. Lunch was a quick trip to the local Pret a Manger for a crab salad baguette. As I walked quickly back to our office in Shoreditch I couldn't help but browse the windows of the clothes stores: that brought it back into sharp focus. Being Friday a lot of people finished up early and I took advantage to get out and home as fast as I could. I've never been a particularly masculine looking man. I'm average height, around 5'9". I'm slim, and I've always kept my hair fairly long, even when it wasn't in fashion. I keep it in a kind of long pixie cut that with a little wax can look edgy male or distinctly feminine. It helps that as a designer I can get away with most things. I've had my ears pierced since I was a teenager and since I've been in London I've had my eyebrows regularly threaded, not too thin, but thin enough to look great with a little eyebrow pencil. Walking home I went past my normal salon so decided to get my brows cleaned up. There is something almost therapeutic about the sharp pain as the twisted thread pulls a few more hairs out, follicle and all. Probably stupidly, and without thinking it through too much, I asked her to give my brows a little more shape this time.. Looking in the mirror as she held it up to me I swallowed hard, I'd thought a little more shape would mean a very subtle difference, she had decided to thin my brows further and give them what I had to admit was quite a beautiful arch. I realised that my brows along with my hair was starting to tip me firmly into the androgynous even without makeup and styling. I paid her the ?15 and gave her another ?5 as a tip and then walked quickly the rest of the way home, grabbing a quick bento box for dinner on the way, slightly unnerved by the cashier saying "thank you Miss". I opened my front door and walked through to the little kitchen, putting my bento box on the counter. I hung my coat up and poured myself a glass of chilled Chablis. I put some music on and sat at my little table to eat my sushi and savoured the crisp white wine, running through my head what I should do. I realised I had three choices. I could go over the top, drag queen style, which I was sure would crack up Brian and Dave, but which would make getting to the Tube station tricky as well as getting home. I could dress down, making some obvious mistakes but looking like I'd just been and bought a cheap dress from Primark for the occasion. Or I could dress normally:. normally for me in the evenings, that is, that way I knew I would pass well enough and I wouldn't feel uncomfortable. I poured a second glass of Chablis and took it to my bedroom, stood it on my dressing table and opened my wardrobe. I realised pretty quickly as I scanned my clothes that most of them were better suited to going to a club than wandering around New Cross in the middle of the day. My eyes lit on a stunning pencil skirt suit I'd bought last year when I'd wondered about whether I should consider presenting as female at work. I had only worn it a few times, I knew I looked great in it, I'd used selfies wearing it for my Chix profile, but it clearly wouldn't be any good for kneeling down in a glory hole. I laughed to myself as I took a sip of Chablis and realised what I was seriously considering. My thoughts were disturbed by a ping from my phone, it was Dave, an IM reminding me to be at Starbucks the next day at 3pm in my dress followed by a load of laughing emojis and the dice emoji. I sent back a quick dress emoji, a laughing emoji and the dice emoji. That reminded me that what I was doing was real, not just an evening edge game. I had only just gone back to my wardrobe when my phone pinged again, this time it was Brian to Dave and me. Apparently there would be a great band playing at a local pub tomorrow evening at 8pm and did we want to go after the dice game? And if so maybe we should meet at the Kings Head at 7pm. Before I had a chance to answer Dave had already agreed that it sounded like a great idea, so I just replied with a "sgtm", realizing that I was going to have to get a move on to get back here to change after the dice game. After looking through my clothes again I settled on a few choices; a dress I'd bought from an online retailer but only worn a couple of times, I'd thought it was more of a club dress, but in reality it was a little more restrained, just above the knee and a tailored dark blue front and back, with very dark grey side panels intended to accentuate an hourglass figure. It had a highish neckline too, so would easily cover my breast forms. The second outfit was more office girl than gloryhole slut, a mid- length stretch burgundy skirt and a jersey wrap blouse which covered my breast forms well, but clearly showed my chest: that could be good. Then lastly one of my favourite outfits, a stretch olive green miniskirt and a leopard print peplum top. Not being able to decide further than that, I hung them around my room and decided to do my nails that evening, one less thing to do in the morning. First my toes, I quickly checked that my nails and cuticles were in good shape, carefully smoothing the edges to a delicate curve and the cuticles pushed back into a clean line. I chose a beautiful dark red polish that I knew from experience would give a stunning deep colour. I relished the moment the brush stroked each nail, leaving a dark almost black trace of colour, making sure I made a clean line at the side of each nail, my toes kept apart by separators. When both feet were given their second coat, I sat back admiring how feminine my feet were, happy that they are only size 7. I then concentrated on my fingers: my nails are always slightly long, and I decided that the right thing to do was to paint my own nails rather than using acrylics. After carefully trimming my cuticles, I shaped the tips, pleased that they were long enough to give a nice oval shape. I buffed the surface to a smooth lustre before stroking the brush across each nail in turn to give the first coat, carefully ensuring the colour went from right beside the cuticle to cover the very tip, but not quite touching the sides of my nail. I admired the way the colour contrasted with the stem of the crystal glass holding my wine as I sipped it. With the first coat dry enough I carefully brushed on the second coat, my nails now deep, lustrous and, due to the buffed nail, a beautiful smooth high gloss. Letting that dry, I finished with a high gloss clear lacquer. I checked my phone again in case anything else had changed. Luckily it hadn't, just a couple more jibes from Dave about the game. I sent him back a quick answer telling him not to worry, I wouldn't be backing out, and to watch out next time he got a solo game. My nails were now dry and the lacquer hard and I wanted to be wide awake tomorrow, so I got ready for bed, slipping on a long black satin nightdress and relishing the feeling as I drifted off to sleep. The radio coming on at 8 o'clock brought me out of a deep and dream filled sleep. Stretching out like a cat in the smooth satin of my nightdress, I briefly admired how perfectly I had polished my nails until I suddenly remembered why. I sat straight up in bed now wide awake. How could I have been so stupid as to agree to this today, and how the hell could I undo what i had done last night in time to go to the band? I jumped out of bed and hopped into the shower, the hot water cascading over me, washing and conditioning my hair almost on autopilot, also on autopilot lifting the pink razor from its cradle and removing the few stray hairs from my legs and body. Wrapping the thick towel around my chest I wandered back into my bedroom, surrounded by the clothes in which I knew I would now be presented to my friends. As I blow-dried my hair, lifting it from androgynous to definitely female, I reasoned that my friends knew I never did things by half, and anyway, being a designer needed me to be a little more flamboyant: it was almost expected. By the time I slipped on my soft towel robe and wandered into the kitchen, I had convinced myself that everything was fine, that Dave and Brian would put it down to me going over the top as usual. I savoured a light late breakfast, it was already nearly ten. Orange juice and muesli served with a very frothy cappuccino from my prized bean to cup machine reaffirmed that all was right with the world. I reasoned that it was going to take me around thirty minutes to get to New Cross station, maybe slightly longer given I'd be walking in heels, so I'd need to leave the flat at around two fifteen. That gave me just over three hours, plenty of time, plenty of time to make sure everything was right. I had already shaved when I first got up, but I shaved again to be sure I was absolutely smooth, I was glad that I was blonde, so that I never got a five o'clock shadow, just a little stubble. Satisfied that I had shaved as close as I possibly could I sat down at my vanity table still in my robe. I looked around the room at the choices I had picked out the previous evening. I discounted my favourite outfit as looking a little too "evening out" for the middle of the afternoon, and decided the burgundy outfit was probably the most flexible. I blushed as I thought the stretch skirt was easiest to kneel in. I went to my chest of drawers and looked for the burgundy lace lingerie I knew I had: this set didn't have a garter belt, but I had plenty of lace top hold-up stockings. I also took out a flesh coloured dancers' gaff which I first slipped up my legs, pulling my cock and balls tightly up and back, out of the way. Sliding the beautiful burgundy lace knickers up covering any sign I had been a man. I easily clipped the bra behind me settling the cups over my own almost flat chest. Sitting in front of the mirror I went through my make-up routine with practiced ease. First a light covering of mousse foundation, then a primer on my eyelids and a little powder on my face. First my brows, I was shocked at just how much finer and higher they really were once accentuated with an eyebrow pencil, lovely high arches. Next some contouring powder to highlight my cheekbones. Eyeliner, a little white on the wet line to open my very blue eyes, then black around the lash line with a little flick at the end. I decided to go with a plum brown eyeshadow palette to complement my outfit. Making sure to keep the darkest shadow for close to my eye to give a smouldering effect, and a dab of the lightest highlight on the centre of my eyelids and the inner corners of my eyes, I used my lengthening mascara, the first white coat to build my lashes then the deep black to define them. A plum coloured lip liner and lipstick, with a tiny dab of silver powder on my cupid's bow completed the look. Looking back from my mirror was unquestionably Christine, there could be no doubt at all. I swallowed hard, realizing that I was about to meet my two friends looking like this, the thought that I was also about to give a total stranger a blowjob secondary. Glancing at my clock I saw it was already twelve thirty, just time for a cup of coffee. Before going to the kitchen I decided I really wanted to feel whole, so I lifted the case out with my breast forms in, always very carefully washed and dried before they were put away, and lifted them each out in turn. I peeled the protective film off the self adhesive backing and settled each in turn into the lace cups of my bra, being careful to ensure they were positioned just right. Over the previous couple of years I had tried several different forms, these were expensive and from Special-Trade in Germany, the adhesive was strong and long lasting and they felt perfect. You could make out the edge if you looked carefully, but then you always can if you look too closely. Slipping my robe back on over my lingerie I felt totally calm, as I always did once I felt complete, I happily wandered into the kitchen, smiling as I occasionally caught sight of the flashes of colour from my toes, then as I made myself a lungo, strong black coffee with a thick crema. I sat at the table with my legs crossed bouncing my foot and admiring how smooth my legs were now after months of keeping them hair free and moisturised. The coffee cup on the table, I held my hand out, palm down and arched my long fingers up to look at my perfectly polished nails. I was pleased, as always, to see the red imprint of my lips on the rim of the cup. I still had a little time, so enjoyed a half avocado with a little white wine vinegar. There was little time left now. Returning to the bedroom I slipped off my robe. Before lifting down the outfit I had chosen I opened a new pack of lace top thigh highs and rolled them up my legs, a feeling I will never tire of. I then slid my skirt up to my waist, reaching down to my knees. It stretched to conform to all my curves, a little slim on my hips, but overall not bad. Pulling the wrap top over my head and pulling it carefully over my breasts I was thrilled as always at the shape it showed. Exposing a long V of pale white skin between two perfectly shaped breasts, the pressure from my bra pushing my own skin to give a hint of the start of a cleavage. I clipped on a favourite necklace, nothing fancy, just costume jewelry, along with some gold earrings and a couple of rings. I sat back down at my vanity and touched up my makeup. I then brushed out my hair before spraying it to hold it in place and coated my lips with a gloss "kiss proof" seal. I checked everything was in my handbag, some makeup for touch ups, drivers license, tube pass, credit cards, some cash, I slipped in my phone, a spare pair of stockings, tissues, then almost giggling, some condoms, not that i thought i would have any use for them, it just seemed the right thing to do. I saw that it was already two fifteen, so I slipped my feet into my favourite heels, a pair of leopard print heels, about three inches so easy to walk in, that just lifted my outfit from office girl to out for fun. I wrapped a silk scarf around my neck and slung my bag from over my shoulder, pleased at the way the strap went across my cleavage. I looked in my full length mirror before I left my flat, damn I looked good, I didn't think I'd ever looked this good. I had been out often enough to know that I'd be fine, but it didn't stop the butterflies in my stomach as I stepped out and locked my door, dropping my keys into my handbag. I have always loved the sound of heels as I walk, and this sunny spring day was no exception. Angel underground station was just around the corner, one of the things I loved about my flat. The station was bustling, but no one batted an eyelid as I went through the barriers to the Northern Line and down the long escalator to the wide southbound platform. There were quite a few people around, but no one was bothered or pointing, shouting, "Look, there's a tranny in a skirt!" I was happy to get a seat on the tube and crossed my legs carefully, pleased that the stretch skirt kept my modesty. I smiled to myself as I caught a couple of older men eyeing me up and continually glancing at my nylon covered legs, my knees uncovered where I had crossed my legs. I started to think about what the hell I was doing this afternoon as the tube filled up while we made our way across central London to London Bridge Station. I really hoped that this place we were going to was clean, I knew nothing about it, I wondered whether using the condoms in the Glory Hole would be acceptable, but then they may taste awful too. Changing to the Southern overground line at London Bridge was typically chaotic. London Bridge was still a nightmarish warren thronging with people, even since it had been re-built. As I made my way through the crowds I realised that no one gave me a second glance except to check me out and as the crowds got more packed I was sure I felt a couple of hands touching my ass and I blushed. It was just after three as I made my way out of New Cross station and over towards the Starbucks. I had rehearsed my story in my head repeatedly on the train, how they should know that I never did things by halves and how I'd been lucky in charity and vintage shops around Shoreditch. As I walked into Starbucks Dave and Brian were seated together at a table close to the window; they'd already bought me a flat white. I made my way across to them, but as I did I realised they hadn't recognised me. Oh Fuck.... I realised I had gone too far, much too far. Fuck. "Bloody hell Chris!, how the hell have you done that??" Dave asked as I sat down, dropping my tush onto the chair and keeping my legs together in front of me. Brian said nothing, he was just looking at me. "I went to a few charity shops near work," I began, using the story I'd prepared. "I just got lucky that they had some clothes that would work in my size... look, you know I always go all in." "That is a lot more than fancy dress standard," said Dave. "We said to make sure you weren't just wearing a pink sweatshirt, but Christ, you must have had a lot of practice to do it this well." "Not at all, look, you know I dragged up for a couple of fancy dress parties at Uni, I just learned how to do it then, you must've forgotten how well I did it then" Brian spoke, "Look Chris, it really doesn't matter to us, but there's no way this is fancy dress, anyway, we're here for a dice game and it looks to me like you might find this easier than we expected." I blushed again and realised I should not protest anymore, we sat quietly while we finished our coffees. "OK, showtime!" said Dave as he went to stand up gesturing to me to do the same. We all got up and I could see Brian looking me up and down as we made our way out of Starbucks and towards the brightly coloured but still dingy cinema around the corner. Normally we would have been walking chatting, keeping up with jokes and banter as we went, but now the guys were even treating me slightly differently, just subtle ways they were talking, not including me in the jokes in the same way, but making sure I was OK on the rough ground, checking the traffic for me before we crossed the road. It was weird. But I realised I liked it. The lobby of the cinema was clearly grotty, and the guys all wandering round, all ages from barely eighteen to well over seventy all looked me up and down like fresh meat. There were a couple of women there too, easily in their forties and looking like they'd seen a lot of life, as well as a couple of men who had dressed up a little, with cheap wigs, I guess like Dave and Brian had expected me to look. The screen was apparently showing a film called "Mother and Daughter Exchange Club" I guessed we wouldn't be watching that. There was a flow of people to and from an area off to the side of the Lobby into what looked like a shop, so we went through there. It was a pretty standard sex shop, dildos and porn mags, along with some bondage and fetish wear. There were a bunch of men browsing the magazines, again they eyed me up and down, I couldn't show it to Brian and Dave, but the way these guys were looking at me was starting to turn me on. They called me over to show me some porn mags, laughing at me as much as with me when they showed me they were shemale porn. They laughed again when they pointed out the polished stainless steel butt plugs with the jewelled ends, asking me if I wanted one? I was now getting both extremely turned on and embarrassed in equal measure, I blurted out "No thank you, I don't think I'll need that." Dave laughed, Brian was a little quieter. Their jokes finished, they decided it was time to get on with the game. By now we had seen the block of doors in the dark along the back wall and worked out what they were for, they had locks on them like a public loo, except you had to put a token in them, except for the door in the centre which seemed to just have a standard slide bolt. They guided me over, Dave with his hand in the small of my back, which to be honest felt quite nice. They turned me to face them. "Right, well we can hardly go in there with you, so the deal is we'll watch you go in and lock the door, then we'll wait and watch at least one guy go into the cubicle beside you, lock it, do whatever he needs to, and then come back out. Then we'll head off so you can save your embarrassment, we'll see you at the King's Head tonight at seven, ready to go and see Twist Helix, OK? We've still got two and a half hours so that should be plenty of time." As we were talking I saw the middle door open and one of the women walked out; she winked at me as Dave's hand on my back propelled me towards the open door. This was it, I looked around the dimly lit room; there was a stained cushion on the floor to kneel on and as I watched the four holes around the room had cocks pushed through them. I made sure the door was locked and slid my skirt up a little to allow me to kneel. I hung my handbag and scarf on the half-broken hook on the door, my eyes starting to adjust to the light. I couldn't believe I was doing this, I looked at the four cocks presented through the holes, all uncircumcised and none particularly huge or tiny. "Come on love, get your lips round my cock.. I seen you wanderin' round wiv your boyfriend's, tasty slut you look too love, I bet you suck good." I realised the voice was coming from the guy in the cubicle closest to where Dave and Brian must be outside, I thought this would be the quickest way to get the deed done, so to say. I lowered myself to my knees, realising as I did that the cushion wasn't just stained, but damp. I recoiled a little, realising why. I looked straight ahead of me, at the cock sticking straight out at me. It was around six inches long and not too thick, at least it seemed to smell clean. I reached out and touched it, excited by seeing the deep red of my nails, almost black in the dim light, contrasted against the white skin. As I held it I heard the guy breathing more heavily. I slowly wrapped my delicate fingers around this cock, and slid my hand back, pulling the skin of his shaft back tight, then slowly pulled it back towards me. Again I slid my hand back, fascinated by the way it bobbed in front of me. "That's it love, now, wrap yer lips round it, come on ye' little tart, suck it." Almost in a trance, I leant towards it, first kissing then licking the tip of this cock. I opened my lips and pushed forwards, allowing him to invade my mouth. The skin was smooth and hot in my mouth, and thankfully I could smell the soap he'd used to clean himself, I squeezed the shaft with my tongue as I started to slowly bob a little on this cock. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the cock in the booth to the right waving at me. "Come on love, give us a hand," another disembodied voice called. I reached out my right hand and caressed this second cock. I was sucking hard on the first cock, my right hand wanking the other guy. I could feel the guy in my mouth was close, his shaft beginning to pulse a little, the salty taste of his seed starting to coat my tongue. I was still surprised by the speed and ferocity of his orgasm as his cum flooded my mouth. I swallowed it down, and as his cock started to soften I looked over at the cock in my right hand. I simply turned a little and it was by my lips, then welcomed into my hot mouth. By the time his seed also filled my mouth I had my hand on one of the cocks behind me. Briefly I looked around, my eyes now accustomed to the dim light. There was a different cock in the first hole, and a cock in two other holes. I lowered my mouth to the middle one of the two and gripped a cock in each hand, one slightly behind me. I realized I was enjoying the power I had over these men, knowing they found me desirable, or at least my mouth. With another load of seed in my mouth I turned to the guy on the left, just as he pumped his load straight at me, dripping from my chin onto my cleavage and blouse.. I licked the tip and turned behind me to another cock. My jaw ached, I lost track of time.. Eventually I stood. I looked down at my blouse, now with several loads staining it. My cleavage still wet with spunk running down it. I used some of the tissues helpfully provided to wipe up as best I could. I said out loud, "Sorry guys, I'm done." I put my scarf into my handbag and slid the bolt back. Walking out of the cubicle I looked around for Dave and Brian, but realised they'd gone. I saw the lavatories to one side and went to the ladies; looking in the mirror I looked a right state. They was cum crusted into my hair, my makeup was smeared and I had clear stains over my blouse and my stockings were wrecked. I set about doing what I could, I took my blouse off and washed what I could out of it, then dried it as best I could with paper towels, I replaced my now laddered stockings and re-did my makeup. Brushing my hair took out most of the cum and although I was cold with my damp blouse at least I looked presentable again, I wandered back out into the shop area. As I approached the brighter lights a tall well-dressed man was coming towards me. He smiled at me and said, "Thank you, i did enjoy your mouth." I was taken aback and realised I was blushing yet again, I dropped my eyes and muttered thanks, suddenly aware that I must have looked like I was flirting with him. He held out his hand and I unthinkingly took it. "Perhaps you'd enjoy the film?" he asked, I really didn't know what to say and he took that as agreement. He led me, initially by the hand, then with his hand on the small of my back, to the doors of the screen room. The sounds of sex filled the air as he pushed opened the door, I realised they weren't all coming from the speakers as he guided me to a double seat in a darker area of the room. He gestured for me to sit first, I lowered my tush to the seat as he stood in front of me; sitting beside me I could feel his strength and heat, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me deeply. My arms were around his neck and I realised that gave him full access to anywhere he chose on my body. He ran his hands down, his finger trailing down my cleavage to the bottom of my blouse. Without giving me the option to respond he hooked his finger under the hem and bringing his other hand to help pulled it over my head and he dropped it onto the seat beside us. His hands ran down, cupping my breasts.. "You are a girl of surprises aren't you?.. Luckily I love girls like you." I bit my lip as he continued to run his hands down to my waist, and in a smooth motion he lifted my ass off the seat as he slid my skirt into a ring around my ankles. I kicked it off as he pulled me into a deep kiss, his tongue invading my mouth I felt his weight on me as he crushed me into the cinema seat, his hand cupping my ass and gently pushing the lace aside. I realised that he was now sliding my knickers down as well and soon they too were on the floor with my skirt, my gaff tangled with them. Meanwhile, he was still fully dressed. I panicked momentarily as he pushed me onto my back, lifting my legs up to his shoulders, I was shocked briefly as he spat into his hand and then rubbed it into my sphincter. The pressure of his cock against me made me slightly grateful. I didn't think to tell him that I was a virgin as he gently but firmly buried his cock deep inside me. The intense pain I felt he either enjoyed or took as encouragement as he started to thrust into me; the pain subsided and I started to moan in pleasure. Glancing at the screen I could see a woman in the same position as me, being pounded by her stud, as mine was pounding me. His seed pumping into me finally pushed me over the edge and my own cock leaked its fluid onto my stomach. He held me for a while as I came down from my orgasm. He only had to slide his fly back up, whilst I wiped myself clean and pulled my clothes back on. I looked around for him, but he seemed to have gone. I hurriedly made my way back out of the cinema and again to the ladies loo where this time I only had to re-do my makeup, hair and straighten my clothes, I could feel his seed leaking slightly from my ass, I hoped I would recover the muscle tension quickly to hold it in. As I exited, thinking it must be getting late by now, he was waiting for me. "Here's my number," he said, handing me a business card. "And I bought you a little gift." He handed me a small but very heavy gift bag. Inside was one of the polished metal butt plugs. "I think we should put this in, don't you? You don't want your skirt to get spotted do you?" I blushed as he reached behind me and hitched up my skirt in view of several of the customers. I felt his hand reach into my knickers and the cold metal of the steel plug, he found his target and pushed the plug smoothly into me. "Now leave that in until you get home, promise?" "I promise," I said, knowing in the back of my mind that I really needed to get going. The sun was still bright as I left the adult cinema, but I knew it was getting late, I pulled my phone out and saw that I only had half an hour to get to the Kings Head, I also had three missed calls from Dave and a message from Brian asking me to let him know I was safe. I sent them both a quick message saying I was fine and that I'd see them soon. To be honest I didn't have a clue what I was going to do, I needed to get home to change before I met them to go out to Twist Helix tonight, but I had no time to do that. I was quickly at New Cross station and I dashed through the barrier in time for the next train back towards Shoreditch. Sitting on the train seat immediately reminded me of the new invader in my ass, pressing deeply into me as the train moved. A girl was sitting opposite me and I could see her looking at my blouse, she caught my eye and gestured towards one of the more noticeable cum stains. I blushed, and gladly took the wet wipe she offered me to clean it as best I could. I decided to go to the King's Head straight away, I'd be late anyway, apart from the cum stains my friends had seen me dressed like this anyway and they had no knowledge of the chrome jewelry I now wore, or of the gentleman's card in my handbag. I would then go straight home and make an excuse about the gig tonight. Dave and Brian were sitting at the same table in the quiet pub where this game had started, they looked at me with a mixture of what I took to be concern, awe, and, was that lust? I sat down, instantly reminded of what was nestling in my ass, and the seed that it was holding in. I asked for a glass of white wine and they looked at me questioningly. "No pint of beer for the lady then?" With my glass in my hand, we raised a toast to the latest dice game as usual, then they asked me why the hell I hadn't been home to change, and was that really cum on my blouse? And what it was like, sucking a cock? I tried to answer them and explained that as it had got late I decided to go to the Kings Head first then go home and that I was sorry but it meant I wouldn't be joining them at the gig that night. "Why not?" asked Brian, looking directly at me. "If we didn't know you, and frankly even though we do, we would have no idea you weren't born a girl." He paused. "You might want to see if you can clean your blouse up a bit more though.." "Here, use this." He passed me a clean folded linen hanky and gestured towards the ladies loo. "I can't, this was only supposed to be a laugh, just an afternoon," I argued, although in my heart it was what I wanted. "OK..." began Dave, placing the dice on the table. "If you throw any double, you come to see the band tonight, dressed as you are, any other number you head off home, OK?" Brian jumped in, "And a double six, you come out with us tonight, and from now on you play the game like this, as Christine." I picked up the dice, and looked at my hands, my deep red nails contrasting with the white cubes but complementing the red dots so well. As the dice rolled across the table I squeezed the chrome invader and watched as the dice stopped with twelve red dots pointing upwards, the dice having changed my life forever.