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Just continied Mandy: Hot Shemale Sex Story.

“We came to a time.” You continued, “When I thought that our relationship would be able to take the openness that I so really sort. One day when we were in my bedroom, I told him that I had to tell him something that would affect how he saw me and felt about me. I slowly took off my top and then my jeans, as I faced him. Clad only in panties now, I felt very self-conscious. He looked at me and grinned. It was then that I pulled my knickers off, revealing my penis, to him.”

“You don’t have to go on, if you don’t want to.” I said, as I noticed that you had tears in your eyes.

“No, I want to.” You said, in a teary voice, which only made me hug you tighter.

“George just stared at me and then he put his hand over his mouth and then ran to the bathroom, where he was sick. I stood there crying, wondering what I had done and slowly I got dressed. By the time I had come out of the bedroom. George had gone. I was so alone and so scared of losing him, I nearly thought about taking my life.”

“Don’t ever think that.” I said sternly to you, “You are a beautiful woman and everyone who meets you thinks the same.”

“I know.” You sobbed, “But back then I was only 15 and I did not know much. All I knew was that I had loved George and I had destroyed that.”

“Okay.” I said as I kissed your forehead.

“I didn’t go to school for a few days, because I was not sure if George had told any of his mates, but no one said anything, so I assumed that he was embarrassed by the whole thing. I would pass him in the hall sometimes and see him in class, but he sat away from me. People asked if we had broken up and why, but I just told them “That we were having time apart.” Finally after a week, he came to me and said that we needed to talk. We met by on the oval, by a tree and he told me how his feelings were confused. He still loved me and wanted to be with me, but he was unsure of how the situation would work. I told him that I still loved him and that we could work it out. He agreed and then he reached across and kissed me on the lips.”

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As we lay in bed, I listened to your breathing as you slept. Turning onto my side facing you, I rested my head on my hand, lifting it off the pillow. The sheets had fallen off the top of your body, revealing your breasts, in all their glory.

As you lay there I remembered the sex and the contact we both shared after going out to dinner and then to the park, by the river afterwards. It was so exciting and wonderful, that words could not convey the feelings that were within my body and my heart.

I gently moved my other hand to your left breast, turning the finger in circles around your nipple and over your breast. You murmured in your sleep, as I did this.

“Should I stop?” I thought to myself.

As I looked at your face I could see that you were dreaming, so the answer came back, “No.”

As my fingers traced the firmness of your two mounds, their little sentinels began to grow and become harder. It was like watching small hills grow out from the surrounding countryside. Oh, how I longed to take them in my mouth and suck and tease them.

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She ordered an expensive drink from the waiter, who had rushed over to the table when she sat down. That’s standard procedure at a strip club; the drink she got was ginger ale.

“Maria, I liked your dance - very much.”

“It’s ‘Huan”, but you can call me by either name.”

“You like it either way?”

“If you mean sex, yes. I like to get fucked in the ass, and I like to fuck a woman or a man, any way they want. Is that a problem?”
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She stepped away from me, to the center of the stage. Maria reached down and undid snaps that ran down one side of the bikini. She whipped it off, revealing a big cock! The bastard stood there and grinned, as if it was the biggest joke in the world.

The audience went crazy, and my buddies laughed. I just sat there, feeling embarrassed and stupid.

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Finally, when the crowd’s clamor for her to take it off had become deafening, she did exactly that. Maria pulled off the bra with a flourish and stood there, showing off to the crowd, shaking her tits.

“Holy shit,” yelled out Howie, a computer tech from World Adult Company, “that’s the best fucking pair of jugs in Muanez.”

I said, “Howie, those tits look too good to be real. I bet she had a boob job.” He told me I was full of shit, so I dropped it and ordered another round of beers for our table.

She moved around the stage, flaunting those gorgeous tits, and by God, she winked at me again as she passed our table! The guys gave it to me again. Sometimes strippers do that, pick out one guy, a harmless looking one like me, and have fun at his expense. Just what I needed, to get worked up over a fucking stripper. I figured that I’d wind up after midnight with the guys at “El Corazon Rojo”, buying sex from a whore, on a back street full of whore houses. They run a decent house; nobody gets rolled there. And, if a customer gets out of line, the Policia arrive quickly to take care of things. Sex is one of the main businesses on the border, and it’s well controlled.
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We were in a strip joint in Muanez, across the bridge from El Tanasso. I was sitting with my buddies from Fort Bliss, doing what GI’s do in Muanez: eat hot food, get laid in whore houses, and bitch about the Army over beers. We went to strip clubs and got shit-faced before buying pussy. It helps to be high when you shop for whores.

The MC introduced the next stripper, ‘Maria’. She came out while the band played ‘Bésame Mucho’, great music for stripping. Maria was something special, not the usual tired-looking Muanez stripper, but a tall voluptuous woman who made eye contact with the audience as she moved around the stage. She wore a long red dress that buttoned down the front. It was tight, tight enough to show her tits and great looking ass.

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She lifted the cups to her breasts, slipped her arms through the straps, and secured the clasp behind her back. The bra fit wonderfully, and, Natasha saw by consulting the mirror, lived up to its promise. She looked as if she’d gone magically from a “B” to a “C” cup, and her sleek, firm breasts jutted from her chest like rockets. She grinned at her reflection, deciding to buy the wonderful brassiere regardless of its seemingly exorbitant price. A bra that could do such magic to her figure was worth whatever the manufacturer charged. Who was the manufacturer, anyway, she wondered? She looked at the attached tag. The manufacturer’s name, Crisitina, and address were printed on the label. The address was right here in San Diego! She’d never heard of such a company, but she was going to pay a visit to its corporate offices. She wanted to thank the president for offering such a splendid bra to the public. She also wanted to see what other items of apparel, innerwear as well as outerwear, the company might offer.

She removed the bra, replaced it on its hanger, and put her blouse on again. She parted the curtain and was about to step out of the dressing room when she remembered that she’d promised herself to give whoever might be watching her over a closed-circuit television camera a little something to remember after she’d tried on the bra. She hung the hanger on the hook, unfastened her jeans, slipped the denim over her smooth ivory thighs, and lowered her silk panties to reveal the soft, limp, circumcised penis that dangled before the small pouch of her scrotum. She grinned. That ought to give any secret admirer a bit of a shock, she thought. Smiling, she tugged up her panties and jeans, reclaimed the brassiere, and hastened to the front of the store, where she purchased the bra.

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Natasha wondered whether the ladies’ dressing room in which she was about to try on a brassiere was under surveillance by some fat, obese fucker with a day’s stubble of beard and a cum-stained crotch. Probably, she thought; it would be just her luck. Well, if some slob was drooling over her image on a “security” monitor somewhere, she’d give him a little something to remember after she’d tried on the bra.

A fancy item of clothing, pink and frilly, it was adorned with lacy lavender bows and ribbons–and the tag attached to it promised that the bra would “lift and separate” to provide “cleavage enhancement.” Despite the hormones she’d taken for the past year, Natasha was a little on the petite side, with “B” cup breasts. She’d never had any complaints, but, well, like a lot of women, genetic girls included, she’d like to have bigger boobs–provided that she didn’t have to undergo more surgery. She’d had quite enough operations lately; she didn’t want any more.

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As far as Sasha was concerned, George could hammer her ass anytime or thrust his prick down her throat whenever he wanted. She was up for it as much as he was. As she thought about his long, thick, hard cock jutting from his groin, inches from her face, and the purple glans kissing her lips, before the shaft, entering her mouth, its sleek, rigid length sliding over her tongue and past the inner walls of her cheeks, shoved past her tonsils and into her throat, she felt the familiar, tickling sensation in her loins. Her nipples came erect, and she pressed herself more tightly into George, letting him feel her excitement and the warmth of her breath against his neck.

George’s cock began to stiffen. He frowned. An erection wouldn’t be welcome at his high school prom, he thought, imagining the shocked expressions of the girls and the angry glares of their dates, should he exhibit a hard-on at their graduation dance. He couldn’t picture anything more mortifying. Fortunately, his anxiety caused his stiffening prick to soften. It went limp again, wilting inside his pants. He breathed a sigh of relief. If girls only knew what guys went through, he thought. A prick had a mind of its own. More than a few times, his own recalcitrant penis had decided to engorge itself with blood at the most inopportune time, causing George to hold a notebook over his groin or place a book on his lap to hide the offending erection. At least, this time, his penis had decided not to embarrass him.

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“Let’s dance,” Sasha suggested.

“Now? We just got here. Besides, I’m starving. Let’s get some refreshments first.”

“Dance now, eat later,” Sasha insisted.

Reluctantly, he placed his right hand against the small of her back and held her right hand in his left hand. He moved to the music, Sasha following his lead. He was a good dancer, as was she, and they enjoyed the feel of their hands clasping one another. Sasha closed her eyes, laying her cheek against George’s strong, broad shoulder. She could smell his cologne and feel the heat of his body. She loved his tall height, his muscular build, and the strength of his body. With him, she felt safe and secure. With him, she felt happy and complete.

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“You look lovely,” George told his date as they walked hand in hand to his Mustang, parked at the curb in front of her house.

Transsexual amateur blonde lady Sasha was wearing a frilly lavender prom dress made of silk and satin, lavender heels, and a string of pearls she’d borrowed from her mother. The dress was tight around her ample bosom, and it was tight across the front and rear as well, hugging her curves. She’d pinned the white carnation corsage that George had given her to her breast. She carried a tiny lavender silk bag, about the same size as George’s scrotum. Her hair was swept up in a blonde mountain of tightly coiled tresses, and her blue eyes were accentuated with lavender eye shadow. A touch of blush made her cheeks a soft pink, to match the pale pink lipstick that highlighted her full, sensuous lips. “So I’m passable?” she said coyly.

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Britney was standing on the side of the road hitchhiking when a stud in a car picked her up.

He said he would give her the ride to the beach, but she had to ride him too. Britney had no choice but to agree.

“I will give you the ride of your life” she said, “I’m very special girl, I hope you like surprises”…

As they got to the beach, she began to suck him, getting horny he fondled her big tits and then she whipped out a tempting dick!!!

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