In the dim glow of his mother’s bedroom, heart still thumping from his mouth on me, I whispered if I could return the favor. Marc’s eyes burned. ‘Not yet, darling. Let’s savor it.’ His cock strained against black panties, that ‘clitoris’ the travestis call it, begging. He stood close, arm snaking behind, fingers grazing my ass cheeks. Heat surged. I mirrored him, palms on his curves. Together, we rifled mom’s nylon treasures, lace spilling out. ‘What do you crave, my girl?’ His voice dripped honey, turning me on fierce. My hand froze on a pink garter belt. He unfolded it—delicate tulle, short straps with rosy bows. ‘Perfect for you. Bustier and panties match.’ Heart racing, he wrapped my waist, hooked it tight. My erection throbbed wild, head spinning. White seamed stockings next, sheer as whispers. I sat on the bed, legs out. He rolled them up slow, skin tingling under nylon kiss, clipped them secure. Panties so thin, fragile—feared tearing them. But once on, embracing my stiff cock and tight balls, pure bliss. Bustier followed, fussy ruffles transforming me. Fake tits stuffed in cups. Then black pumps, heels wobbling me into feminine sway, arousal spiking. Marc slipped into sky-high black boots, ass arching, strutting like a pro—hips rolling, cock tenting. I craved that shaft, to touch, lick. We collided, hands roaming shoulders, chests, hips. Lips crashed, tongues deep. Bassins grinding, cocks rubbing through sheer nylon. Breath ragged, skin fever-hot.
He pulled back. ‘Nightie time, sweetie. Bed awaits.’ Pink veil for me, black for him—exposing every lace curve. On mauve satin coverlet, eyes locked, fingers tracing dressed bodies. I tugged his panties down. His slim, curved cock sprang free, balls swaying. Gripped it, stroked, tongue on pink glans. First cock in my mouth—salty, pulsing. Swirled the slit, swallowed deep. He moaned—his first blowjob too. Sucked harder, fondling nylon thighs, balls. He gripped my head, thrusting, then shoved away. ‘Stop, or I’ll cum.’ ‘What now?’ ‘Want woman’s full pleasure?’ ‘Yes. Own me.’ ‘On all fours, pet.’ Lube squirted, condom rolled on his tip. He yanked my panties, jerked my cock. Cool gel on my hole, finger probing. Strange burn melted to crave. I rocked back, ass waving. Two fingers, three—stretching me open. ‘Fuck me now. Use your clitoris on your slut.’ Gland pressed my ring. Pushed in—burn, then full. He paused, then hilted, pubes slapping ass. Thrusts built, skin slapping, caressing my stockings, hips. Leaned over, jerking me. ‘Your ass is fire, girl. Gonna flood you.’ Pace frantic, he growled, froze—hot spurts in me. Pulled out slow. We collapsed, kissing soft.
The Fever
‘You’re a girl now,’ he purred. ‘Fuck me too?’ My cock raged. Condom on, lube slick. He lay back, legs wide. Gel on his brown pucker. Fingers in—one, two, three—loose, practiced. ‘Mom’s dildos trained you?’ ‘Yes. Fuck me hard.’ Legs on shoulders, glans breached easy. Balls-deep in velvet heat. ‘Like butter.’ Pumped slow, his hand on his cock, stroking. Boots flexed under my grip. Scandal raced my mind—caught in lingerie? Shame fueled fire. Climax boiled. ‘Cumming in your ass!’ ‘Me too—make me your bitch!’ Slammed deep, seed erupting. His spurted ropes on black nightie. Waves crashed, bodies quaking. Slid out, curled tight. Sheets down, we slipped in, hands on soiled silk. Exhausted, entwined, sleep claimed us—skin still humming, forever marked.