Joe turned and looked in the mirror. By now, he had grown accustomed to
how he looked with the wig. His short hair looked strange, and sort of exotic.
He touched his cheek, feeling the softness. His hand then went to his breast.
He cupped it, as if estimating its weight, then squeezed it slightly. The hand
then continued lower, and he carefully felt his pubic area through the dress.

“I really do look like a girl, don’t I?” He said, turning to look at
Linda. “I just checked, and I guess I feel like one now too. I don’t have
any choice in the matter, but that’s what I am. If tomorrow, next month, or
next year they tell me I can go back, then I’ll have a difficult decision to
make. Till then I guess this person in the mirror is what I am.”
GET MORE THAI TRANNY HOTTIES AT LADYBOY 69
“And I’ll help you.” Linda said. “However you want to handle it, I’ll
help you.”

“Should I wear this tomorrow?” Joe asked. “Can I wear it to get a hair
cut?”

“You can if you want to.” Linda said. “It’ll probably take less than an
hour.”

Joe thought about Sally’s…all the women just sitting
around…talking…gossiping…about god knows what. If they even suspected
that he was really a guy…a rooster in the hen-house…he could imagine the
disturbance it would create. Of course, there is no way he would be
detected…he may not always know precisely how to act like a woman, but
nobody could ever get him confused with a man. Not unless he told them. And
even then it’s doubtful they’d believe him.

tranny ass fucked

that in front of everyone.” Just then Ron gave my hand

another squeeze, and I blushed.

We all laughed as we went through the typical cake-

cutting-and-feeding ritual. Then came the gifts.

she came over to welcome me to the building. We had a cup of coffee and some

cake she brought over, but she had to run. Going to her dance class she said.

I had taken some dance, so I asked about it. Apparently it was right across

the street, and many people from the building went, but she wasn’t sure that I

would like it, but, if I wanted I could tag along. There was a smile in her

eyes that wouldn’t let go. I put on my sweats and followed her.

It was three floors up. I was the only man in the place, and I could tell that

this wasn’t a soft workout for chubbies. Every woman there had a body that was

toned like a 64 Rolls. They wore their leotards with the grace of professional

dancers, flowing through the room. Many wore a wide sash of embroidered fabric

around their hips. They smiled at me. I was glad I wore my grey sweats.. they

were loose where it counted. I smiled back.

Donna introduced me as a visitor. The class started, and I knew what the

problem was.. It was a Belly dance class. I’m all man, and I’m no quitter, so

I got in and did the work. Shimmys, pelvic thrusts, everything. I was pretty

good. The instructor said they’d never had a guy come here twice, but maybe I

could be the first. The gleam in her eye was more challenge than I’d seen from

many a tough guy. I gave her my winning smile, and asked when the next class

was. The way the women looked at me as they left, I knew I’d found a winner.

It was about the fourth week. They had a present for me. I opened the paper

and found a black and aqua lycra leotard, footless tights, a jogbra, dancebelt,

wig, and a length of material for a sash. I had to think fast. This was a

test, and if I wanted to keep the respect of these dames I couldn’t fail. I

went behind the curtain, and emerged, fully dressed. I had done the right

thing. I went through the class looking at myself in the mirror. The leotard

was very high cut and the aqua hourglass pattern on the front gave the illusion

of a female figure. The sash filled out my hips.

I was good that night.. better than ever before. My appearance has helped me

lose myself to the dance. I got compliments.. and a few more phone numbers.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Donna talking to the instructor. She walked

me home.

Donna explained that I had a decision to make. I was being offered admission

to the Slata.. the sisterhood. The first man ever. Most of the women in the

class were members.. it was a society that helped others learn the tricks of

Belly Dancing. Problem was, there were rules. I would have to follow the

dress code at classes. Have to learn the rules. Have to make a costume. Have to

perform in public. And have to go through the initiation.

The Sisterhood taught total release of self during dance. You followed the

rules, you lost the hung up you, found your freedom. She came closer to me,

her face begging for my acceptance. That night I was in. In more ways than

one.

The dress code was clear. No hair on your body. Any where. The hot wax smelled

of honey. A few shots of Jack Daniels, and the sting of my pubic hair being

yanked out was just a deadened hum. Proper makeup. Base, contour, rouge,

shadow, liner. My wig was full and frizzy cascading onto my shoulders. Show

your breasts proudly. Well they were just foam latex over silicone, but they

were mine.

The thin lycra stretched tightly over my breasts, high heels clicking on the

terrazzo floor, I began my journey. The first step was across the street, but

I had no idea how far it would take me.

I just stared at myself in that big mirror. I snapped open the front of my

skirt and slipped it off. My legs looked so bare, covered with nude pantyhose.

My balls were taped up into their sockets with moleskin. A ribbon around its

head pulled my penis back between my buttocks. My hairless pubic area showed

under the tight fabric. My hairless armpits were sensitive to the wind, and I

was almost overwhelmed by the scent of my own perfume. I danced. Every ripple

of my body was visible to all. Every eye was on me. I was sexy as hell. I

wanted to rip off my clothes and dance naked for all the women, to open myself

up and take the sexual heat that pounded trough that place into my body. I was

going to writhe and sweat until my muscles couldn’t move anymore. The warmth of

my skin mixed with the strong musk of my perfume.

Did I dance. As they left, a number of women touched me, their long fingers and

bright nails stroking me through the lycra, damp from sweat so it clung as if

it was glued to me. The places where they touched me heated up, hot and

driving.

The chill city air snapped my leotard cool as Donna and I walked across the

street. Follow me, she said and I did. Into the bar across the street, and down

at a booth. We ordered white wine, and I glowed when I saw the red lipstick

mark on my glass. We were seated where I could see myself in the mirror. I

looked fabulous.

Nature calls. We picked up our purses and wiggled back to the loo. The leotard

slid off my body,still with a cling from the sweat. The panty hose rolled

down, and Donna got behind me to release my cock from it’s home. I had gotten

used to the continual excitement of my buttocks rubbing against my helpless

cock, but when it was freed I looked down through my adhesive breasts to see it

stand out free and proud. Donna took it between her long nailed hands. We’re

sisters now, and sisters share everything. Soon my back arched crazily as she

took it in her mouth.

I thought of the men outside nursing their beers. I looked into the cracked

mirror and saw the red nipples of my foam breasts bouncing. The lipstick tasted

creamy as my tongue circled my mouth. I wanted to cry out as she sucked harder,

her tongue in a frenzy, stroking my glans. My calves ached from the tension

pushing against the 4 inch heels. I came for what seemed like hours.

We caught our breath, did what we had to do, put our clothes back on and

checked our makeup. A couple of guys bought us some drinks and got a little

thigh, but we were going home “alone”.

A good costume takes hours of work. Beaded push-up bra with silicone inserts

that make it all look like me. Scanty panties. A heavy girdle..a beaded, coin

bedecked belt that accentuates the movement of the hips. A thin skirt, veils,

and heavy jewelry. Had to pierce my ears, and the heavy earrings pulled at my

lobes.

When I put it on I was another person. Meena. No last name, no family, no real

life, just a beautiful sexy dancer. I danced with my soul, unladen of worldly

worries. I worried about keeping a perfect tan, about keeping my skin supple,

about if I should get a jewel for my navel. I was a creature of the body and

soul, and my intellect drifted along, released from a need to control my every

move.

Donna and I sat home, practicing our dance, sewing beads, or spending hours

practicing sexual techniques from the Kama Sutra. Our hairless oiled bodies

moved too slowly to see as our souls hovered above and watched.

The initiation took all weekend. All of the initiates were stripped naked. We

were to be cleansed fully. Each of us assumed the position of the dog and the

goddess of all came along to cleanse us. From the front of her robe came a

long hollow dildo. She inserted it deep into the vagina of the first initiate,

and shot a quart of soapy, perfumed water deep into her. Her braething became

deep and heavy, panting with the fullness. I felt the woman next to me receive

the cleansing, her body quivering. They lubricated the dildo for me, and it

sank slowly into my anus. My balls were taped inside my body, and my penis hung

below my hairless pubis. I tensed up as it entered, but changed my focus. I was

being entered by the earth, by all. I was being cleansed. My body began to

quiver, and I felt myself coming to the orgasm that Donna had spoken of. The

water was in my bowels, flushing out the impacted debris of this society. I was

cleaned.

We dressed. For me that meant tying my penis back between my buttocks, putting

on a garterbelt, stockings and high heeled sandals, and slipping into a long

fox coat, lifting my long hair over the collar. The satin lining caressed my

skin and caught lightly on the erect nipples of my latex breasts. My long red

nailed fingertips swept through the luxuriant fur. We were going out dressed

like this, ready to bare ourselves to the world. Donna had the Polaroid camera

to snap the flash pictures.

The fur had no closures.. I was all that held it shut. In the back of the cab

I saw the cabbie stare into the mirror. I let the fur slide open, shut it

quickly as the cab swerved across the street. In the mirror I saw my face with

a huge wicked smile showing white teeth outlined in red lipstick.

Our first stop was the mall downtown. It was all but deserted at 2 AM. I opened

my coat wide and Donna snapped a picture. My eyes were bright red dots, my

hairless body was luminescent against the dark lining, and the lights of the

city shone behind me. I exposed myself to the world, showed that I was not

ashamed of my nakedness.. but was in no hurry to get arrested either!

As we walked the satin rubbed against my body touching and caressing my flesh.

We entered a greek resturant. I didn’t check my coat. I had been there before

to awtch the cabaret dancers, but only in my male clothes. Let them stare I

thought.. I am beautiful! The bartenders jaw dropped, but Donna snapped some

picures with my coat open and we moved on. I saw the bouncer stop someone from

following us as we walked away.. Donna had friends.

We got on a subway and rode to the beach. The photos on the subway were

wonderful, and I let my coat hang open and the air come against my hairless

pubis. My finger strayed under Donna’s skirt to her clitroris. It was dark at

the beach, but I felt powerful, and shed my coat as Donna snapped me

sillouetted aginst the reds, golds and purples of the rising sun.

Just looking at the photographs were a powerful turn-on. I fell to my knees and

put my head under Donna’s skirt and ate her hungrily. We had sex on the beach

under my fur, and went home. I had two more days to go to become the first male

sister.

After a few hours sleep, It was time to dress for my first public performance.

We drew a hot scented bubble bath and relaxed. Donna rubbed my tan body down

with perfumed lotion. The tan lines from the bikini to I wore at the tanning

booth were faint but noticeable. Full makeup went on, from deep contour to

tons of eyeliner. My breast forms that had been removed for the bath, but

tonight all the flesh would be my own. I pulled on the beaded bra, and lifted

my breasts so that they would be pushed into place by the silicone inserts.

Donna ran her hands over my newly formed breasts, and i felt a tingle in my

nipples. Usually we have one of these for both holes, Donna smiled, but you

only need one. She inserted a butt plug deep into my anus. My cock was again

imprisoned between my buttocks, lavishly lubricated to ease the constant

friction when I walked. It held the plug tightly. The panties slipped over

all of this, cut so high that the clefts between my legs and hip showed all the

way up. My pubis was smooth and hairless, so nothing peeked out. The

embroidered skirt went over that.. in belly dancing the positions of the legs

are not always attractive, and the skirt conceals as much as it reveals. The 10

pound girdle went on next, weighing down my hips so that every move of them is

accentuated, so you feel the weight bearing down. The veils covered me. I

slipped on a pair of heeled sandals, my toenails painted the same shade as my

lengthened fingernails, and I was ready.

Walking to the studio was different. I felt my buttocks squeeze my cock, and

the butt plug made me squirm.

Our first performance in public was scheduled for a local mall at the height of

day. A stretch limo had been hired to drive us to the mall, and the we piled

in. I was dressed in pink and purple, but with my sisters in orange, red

,green, in all their shades, we were wildly colorful. The limousine smelled of

perfume and the perspiration of our half naked bodies. We swept through the

crowd at the mall, veils flowing behind us, and went to the central stage. My

heart pounded with adrenaline as I thought of all of those people watching me

be something that I wasn’t. I was a faker in this outfit of chiffon and silk.

There was a mirrored facade on one of the stores, and I saw four beautiful

women making their way through the crowd. I retreated into my mind and

remembered that I was Meena, lovely dancer whose body and talents were meant to

serve and delight. My body loosened as I relaxed and in my next glance in the

mirror I was walking with the grace and fluidity of one born to dance. I

accepted the heat coming from the audience, accepted their visible desire for

me as my due. I was a sister in the dance. I was the object of their

affection, and I embraced it and it made me strong.

We walked to the stage, and the music started. We danced together, and then

each had a solo. We cheered each other on, and the audience joined in. I was

in in ectasy during my solo. I could feel my penis grow in my cleft, forcing

the butt plug deeper into me. As I forced my hips forward in an age old

pantomime pantomime of sexuality. The audience was my partner, and I could feel

them heating up, twitching and throbbing to my unbridled sexuality. We were one

joined, together. There was the wet feel of semen between my buttocks as I wal

walked off stage.

The walk back to the limo was delicious agony. My sensitive penis was wet by

come, and it tingled with every step I took. My hips swiveled wickedly to

accentuate the stimulation. My breasts heaved with every breath and I longed to

touch someone, to have someone touch me. It was the most delicious foreplay I

had ever had.

In the limo I learned that I wasnt’t the only one to have had an orgasm during

our performance. All of us had. We slid the divider between us and the driver

shut.

Clothes came off. I remember having one woman sitting on my cock, and another

sitting on her face. The smell of musk was unbelievable. My brain was unhooked

from my pulsing body. My hands reached out blindly and found a tender nipple to

stroke. Every time I felt myself starting to come, the rhythm changed. My penis

was a mass of nerve endings, sore and hot. I reached up to gab the hops of the

woman above me, and force her down so my tongue could penetrate her deeper.

There was a chain reaction of orgasm, as four voices cried out together. We

lay together in a crumpled mass, and adjusted our breathing to each other.

The car pulled to a stop. We scurried back into our outfits, all the women

reinserting their dildos with a short gasp. As we walked upstairs to the

studio, we knew that now we were sisters, the four of us, bound through the

dance, and though the basic needs of our bodies.

I could tell by the looks that everyone knew what had happened. I suspected it

wasn’t the first time. The knowing smiles were contagious.

We had performed well, and we would celebrate with a fabulous feast. We were

to serve.

All of our clothes were slowly removed. We were told to lie on plastic covered

tables, and we were given slow delicate sponge baths. The warm water tingled on

my hairless skin. There wad the mild tang of disinfectant in the air. Every

part of me was scrubbed with a natural bristle brush. I relaxed , and let the

many hands touch and soothe me.

We were to serve these foods. We were to be human platters, our clean skin

laden with the many tasty dishes.

The food was brought out. Pots full of spicy stews, meant to be eaten with the

fingers or with pita, warm and fragrant. Cool yoghurt dips, flavored with nuts

and essences. Bowls of prepared fruits in a sweet honey sauce. Creamy farmer

cheeses, soft and spreadable.

Each of these was ladled onto us. The contrast in textures, in temperatures,

started my heart to pound. The scent wafted up to my nostrils. I could barely

lie still.

The dinner was invoked. The room was darkened, lit only by candles. The Sisters

filed in, almost 35 of them, all dressed in ceremonial costumes that barely

covered their breasts and genitalia.

As we opened our mouths, wineskins were held over them, and we were given

drink. The dinner started.

At first I felt many fingers touching my body and lifting the food, but as more

wine was consumed, I felt the fiery tongues scrape off the warm food. Teeth

scraped my breasts lightly as my sisters grasped honeyed fruit in their mouth.

I felt my penis rise, covered with a milky sauce. My breathing speeded to a

deep pant as four or five tongues lapped up the yoghurt. My back arched, and I

heard a cry from the next table. I knew that all of the initiates would be

forced to come. I fought the feelings, but to much wine had been poured down my

throat. As I came many fingers grasped my penis and squeezed every drop of

semen out of it, greatly prolonging the delicious agony of orgasm. Even as I

was coming, they licked, bit and touched my body.

There was no rest. Amidst much giggling they set about to make me come again.

By the time they succeeded I was sore and every nerve ending in my body felt

shrieked with pain and delight.

My knees were trembling and weak as I was helped up and lead to the shower.

The third Friday of every month is my day. This is the one day,

or rather night of the month that I truly look forward to. Only

twelve times a year, do I allow myself to totally, absolutely

indulge myself. To be a slut! A total tramp! To luxuriate, and

fulfill my desires that have been pent up inside me since the last

month!

To enjoy fully the sexual cravings I have, the cravings I stifle

until that one night on the town when I unleash the sex crazed

lust starved animal passion inside me. The night I go on the

prowl!

I start my day off slowly, savoring in the preparations for the

fuck and suck fest that will transpire before the night is

through. I always take the day off work, and I’m glad no one at

work has caught on to my pattern of ’sick’ days.

I leave early in the morning for Toronto, although it’s only an

hour from where I live, it is big enough that nobody will

recognize me, especially not after I’ve transformed into the slut

that I will become.

I check into a different motel every month, and unpack my ‘tramp’

uniform. Then I begin the transformation. I shed my clothes the

minute that I enter the room, lay on my bed and play with myself

until I’ve had two or three good climaxes while fantasizing about

the forth-coming night.

With my lust temporarily sated, I run myself a luxurious bubble

bath, filled with expensive bath oils and perfumes. As I sit in

the bathroom, inhaling the sweet fragrance of the tub, I start to

shave my legs. Since tonight is my special night I take much more

care than usual, and even take a few minutes with a pair of

scissors to trim my pubic bush. Then I get into the tub.

I can’t help myself now! The sex drive inside me is too strong,

and as I lay relaxed in the warm bubbly water that feels like

satin and silk against my tender skin, I have to masturbate again

and again! My animal urges are hurrying me along now, and my

hands can’t satisfy my needs enough! I shower off and dry myself

quickly.

My need is welling up inside me! I need cock and I need it bad!

I take the time to powder myself liberally, I know it’s going to

be a terrific night! As I apply my favorite perfume, I wonder

what my co-workers would think of me now. I know the names they

use whenever they talk about somebody as cock crazy as I am, and I

wonder how I manage to control the animal passions inside me as

long as I do each month without them guessing my true nature.

I slowly pull on my black nylons, attaching them to my matching

black lace trimmed garter belt. I am wearing a pair of red satin

panties, and as I rub my crotch lovingly, I have to fight myself

from masturbating again. I want to save my climaxes now until I

get downtown!

I don’t usually wear a bra, but I do whenever I wear my ’slut’

suit. I think the extra padding helps me attract more guys this

way. Black satin and lace tickles my nipples until they’re stiff

and I feel so aroused!

Walking around in just my bra, panties and nylons I feel so

sluttish! I carefully apply my make-up, making my eyes look deep

and wanton. Then I pin my hair back and pull my blond wig out of

its container and put it on. The wig is really long and nearly

white blond. The golden curls cascade over my shoulders, and I

wonder why I couldn’t have been born with hair like this instead

of my mousy brown which I keep trimmed short. I inspect myself in

the mirror, turning slowly admiring every curve. I know that many

men are going to be looking at me tonight, and I want to look just

perfect for their fuck fantasies.

Satisfied with my appearance in my dainties, I put on my black

leather mini skirt and my black patent leather, high heel pumps.

I top off the whole outfit with a bright red silk blouse, through

which you can nearly see my lacy black bra. But just in case the

guy’s eyes aren’t quite that good, I leave it unbuttoned far

enough that they can see the lacy frills. Now I am ready for

Yonge Street. I take my small black matching leather purse and

leave the motel.

Look out Toronto, here I come!

It’s just past six when I get out of the taxi near the strip

palaces downtown. Through past experience, I have found it’s a

good place to get picked up. The stores are closed now, and the

only people on the streets are tourists and the night people.

Street musicians are everywhere, trying to hustle a buck, and the

street kids are looking for handouts or trying to bum pocket

change. The hotel trade is good this time of night, since the

hookers don’t come out till much later.

Mostly business men, looking for a cheap thrill from the strip

acts, and a few hours of steady drinking until they have to go

home to their wives and families. I watched one dark handsome guy

in his early forties cross the crowded street. I could tell by

the lust in his eyes that I was turning him on, so as he headed

for the door I wiggled my cute buns over to him.

“Hi good looking” I said in my deepest sultry voice, “Want me to

blow your horn for you?” He looked at me and shrugged then said,

“You sure look inviting babe, but I can’t afford to pay the

piper.”

I put on my best pouting expression and said “I didn’t ask for any

money mister, I’m just a volunteer for the sperm bank and I want

you to make a donation, right down my throat.”

He looked around quickly, and I could tell by the growing bulge in

his pants that he wanted to fuck my pretty face as bad as I wanted

his, no, needed his hot fuck tool between my lips.

I led him by the hand to the alley beside the bar, (a place I knew

so well from previous visits), looked around to make sure nobody

was sleeping behind the dumpster, and dropped to my knees while my

fingers flew at his fly trying to pull that big hunk of cock out

of his pants. It was so hard and so big, that I couldn’t close my

fist around it!

I pulled back the foreskin slowly letting his musky aroma

tantalize my nose before I slipped my painted lips over his shaft.

Oh, he tasted so good! A tangy, zesty flavor, and I started to

slurp my way up and down his pole. I stuck my tongue into his

slit, and the way that his balls contracted in my other hand told

me how much he liked it! His cock head was swelling by the

second, and my head was spinning with desire for his hot cream.

He was my first in a month, and I needed his liquid offering in my

stomach to cool the fire smoldering inside.

I pulled his foreskin all the way forward and let my tongue slip

in between the folds of his skin and his ballooning cock head. I

needed his cum bad, so I started sucking for all I was worth!

“Oh, yeah, suck it baby!” he moaned, “Suck it hard you fucking

slut! Eat my seed, suck my cum, oh fuck! I’m cumming!” He

grasped my head between his hands and shoved his salami down my

throat as his balls erupted and exploded sending blast after blast

of hot, steaming, delicious spunk down my throat. I sucked on his

cock until it started to shrivel in my mouth. I didn’t want to

waste one single drop.

When I was sure he didn’t have anymore to offer me, I let him slip

out of my mouth. I stood up and straightened my clothes and

started to walk away. He called out after me, asking me my name

and the usual bullshit they always do about when can they see me

again and such, but I’m not looking for a boyfriend, and I’m not

available for this kind of thing except one day each month. I

could still taste his cum on my lips, but instead of quenching my

fire, it was burning even hotter. I didn’t need any more friends,

I needed more cock and more cum, lots and lots of cum!

After I turned the corner, I re-adjusted my wig, and put on some

more lipstick. Then I headed for another bar. This time I went

inside and ordered a drink. It wasn’t five minutes before a guy

came over to me and said: “Hey gorgeous, would you like some

company?” I looked him over, and figured him for a junior sales

clerk, the way he was dressed, but he wasn’t bad looking so I

said, “I don’t need any company, but if you have some cum you’d

like to give my mouth, I sure do need some of that.”

He was startled by my remark, but it didn’t take him long to

respond.

“Sure”, he said, “I can spare you about a gallon, but I don’t have

a room close by.” I looked around the bar and noticed that there

were hardly any other women there so I told him to meet me in the

women’s john in two minutes. I went ahead first to make sure

there was nobody in there.

When I found the coast to be clear, I signaled him to come in. As

soon as he entered he wanted to kiss me and feel me up, but I just

brushed his hands away. I didn’t come here for kissy-face crap, I

wanted his prick sliding back and forth between my lips!

I pushed him into a stall, and pulled his pants right down to his

ankles. Then I told him to sit on the water tank while I

straddled the toilet facing his cock. Its size wasn’t very

impressive, but it was growing, and the purple tinge to it told me

that he was getting good and ready!

I licked around his balls first and watched them contract like

little golf balls, hard and ready to burst. I licked my way up

his shaft and was a little disappointed with the soapy taste of a

guy who’s a little too fussy about cleanliness. When I got to the

tip of his cock though, and I tasted a drop of his pre-cum, it

more than made up for everything else. Just a little salty, and

with a hint of garlic is the best way I can describe it.

As I licked his slit, he started to buck and groan, so I clamped

down fast knowing that any second now he would explode and fill my

face with his hot sticky cum. I squeezed his shaft so that when he

blew, it would be much more intense, for both of us!

He yelped when he finally blew his load into my eagerly waiting

mouth, and I used my hand to milk him totally dry.

“Oh, fuck baby. You do that so good!” he said.

I asked him if he was ready for another round, but he said it

would take him a little bit before he could get it up again. Then

he said that he was in town for a convention, and that if I wanted

he would send in one of his buddies while he worked up another

hard for me.

“Sure send him in!” I said, “The more that cum, the merrier I’ll

be.” Well it turned out that he had a lot of buddies with him

from the convention, and I figured I was on about the tenth one,

(being I had lost count past the fourth). I know I’m a cock crazy

slut, but I just couldn’t get enough. I figured I had drank about

forty gallons of hot musky sexy delicious seed and I still needed

more. Then this tall lean guy came in. I told him to sit on the

tank, like all the others, but he lifted me up under the arms,

raised me to a standing position and kissed me! I thought this

guy is crazy! Didn’t he realize that half his buddies had shot

their seed in the mouth he was kissing? But he persisted, and

finally succeeded in getting his tongue into my mouth. He swirled

it there and my head started to spin.

He didn’t try to feel up my tits, he just reached down and grabbed

a hold of my crotch. I did the same to him, and massaged his

stiff prick like he was doing to me.

“Fucking right” he said. “I knew the minute the guys started

talking about the great blows they were getting for free from some

chick who didn’t want anything in return that you had to be a TV

Queen!”

I didn’t say anything but let him raise my skirt and pull out my

own aching rod. It was my turn to sit on the tank, and finally

get my rocks off! He said his name was Jeff, and that he swung

both ways, but that his buddies didn’t know that. It only took a

couple of licks from Jeff’s experienced tongue and then I was

groaning and shooting my seed into his mouth. Jeff kept at me

though, even after I shot my first load, he just kept on slurping

away at my love stick until I came again. It was my turn to kiss

his sticky lips now, and then we traded places. I sucked on

Jeff’s big tool until he let loose with a torrent of hot cream

down my throat!

Jeff asked if he could take me home, but as much as I enjoyed

fucking his face, it was still my night on the town. I left the

bar after sucking off Jeff, thinking I had stayed too long in one

place already. Jeff was pouting, but hey! It’s my night out!

I come here once a month, every month to get my fill of sucking

hard cocks. I have my needs, and one of them is not spending the

night with just one guy. I want as many big hard cocks fucking my

face as I can get. I need as much cream as I can swallow, it has

to last me a whole month, and one guy just can’t give me enough.

Aren’t I a nasty little bitch?