Stephi's Perfecta


Transgender/Transsexual TV

I have a story to tell, but just judge the story, not me. I know there is a chance that you will probably think I am an ass, maybe I am, but it is that personality that gets the job done.

My job, selling cars. Yea yea, I know only person worse than me is a lawyer, but let me tell you, when you need a new ride, you don't go to the candy man, you come to me.

People like to say I am full of myself, but there is nothing wrong with being confident and in my line of business, you have to be confident. The thing is: self-esteem translates to other aspects of my life, especially when it comes to sex. To be good, you have to do what it takes. You flirt the flirt, you open the doors, you please and thank you, and you move in when it is time to move.

My story involves sex and a challenge, two of my favorite scenarios

I was riding high. First thing in the morning a professor from the university comes in, he has a new in Tuscon, but wants to secure a car before he changes jobs. In an hour I had him in a new Accura. That just isn't done --- selling a car before 10 a.m., maybe noon, but not 10 a.m., UNLESS you are me. And this was a Monday.

If you are good car salesman you sell 26 cars a year, about one every two weeks. I sell 40 a year. That was last year, this year I am on track to better that. That said, much of the time for a salesman is spent anticipating what is next.

You spend much of your time waiting for that next customer. Sure some days the lot is filled with prospective buyers, but there is a ton of down time. Usually it is spent jawing with the other salesmen. Some time we talk shop, other cars, other dealers that might be looking for a salesman and occasionally ideas how to sell a car, but most of the time is everything but cars. A lot of talk is about sports for sure and with my pal Frankie we are betting on things. It started out with sports, and maybe our golf game, but soon we were betting on which direction the wind would be blowing at 3 p.m.

Usually who ever won the last bet, sets the parameters for the next wager. It was Frankie's turn, having lost on predicting which inning Pujols would hit his next homer. We decided long ago --- to keep our friendship --- the bets need to be around $10 and no one could owe the other more than $100. At the moment, Frankie owed me $40.

When one guy gets behind he goes to a bet where he is golden. Like once I was $50 down and I bet him $50 I could sell to a priest before he could. Both of us spent the afternoon calling our contacts in the church, checking out with Father was due for a new vehicle. By 4 o'clock I was even.

I ruined the priest though, because he will forever think he can get an Accura from me under cost. Sorry father, that was a one time deal. Ironically I made out on the deal because in the next month three priests came in thinking the could get the same deal. They got a good bargain, but not below cost.

So Frankie comes into my office and I thought he was going to discus where to go for lunch, but I see he has this big ass grin on his face and I know we aren't going to talk about salad bars. And I knew he had something up his sleeve, but I figure I am riding the big luck wave, so bring it on.

Much of sales is a gamble. You see a couple walk into the lot and you take a guess at how to approach them. I kid you not, but sometimes you can sell a car just by acting like the buyer isn't serious about buying. Other times if you act like the buyer is smarter than you and they feel like you are the man to buy from. Mostly that is because they think you couldn't possibly be smart enough to take advantage of them.

The truth be told --- what people don't know --- I want my customers to have the best deal. If you make the customer happy they not only come back, they recommend you to their friends and co-workers (like those priests). Of the 40 cars I sold last year, half were to previous customers, who came into the dealership asking for me, knowing what they wanted to buy. Another 10 were people who were referred. It's all in the mechanics. Get your mechanics right and you succeed.

Shit, where was I, yea, Frankie was in the office with that Cheshire smile. Lately his bets were these tricky things that you had to do something to win, not like betting Tiger Woods against the field and waiting until Sunday to see if you won. Like a month ago he made the bet of who cold hold their breath the longest.

I am way better in shape than him, I work out at the gym four times a week, but he won. He had been planning it and every night for a month holding his breath as long as he could, which I guess is a way to expand your lungs. I should have expected it, since it was his bet. In a way he won because he is a good student Like I said before, my mantra to him is 'it is in the mechanics.'. I am always giving him tips on things, how to sell cars, pick up women, how to hit a baseball, etc.

In many ways they all take the same approach, there is the right way, the efficient --- tried and true --- way and you use it. For example there is some luck in hitting a baseball, as in guessing pitch (curve, fastball, and so on) or pitch placement (inside low, outside high); there is some natural talent involve, but most of success comes down to technique and mechanics. You look at Albert Pujols, Ted Williams or Mickey Mantle and they all have a solid swing. Sure they have more skill than Frankie and I put together, but they studied mechanics of hitting and refined their skill to an art form. Something I wished I would have practiced more when I was in college. Or at least as much as I practiced my drinking mechanics.

Women the same. You can score with luck or pure good look, but there is the right way to treat a woman and you do that. Sure you aren't going to get laid every night with every woman you meet, but give me a couple weeks and I can assure you I will improve your sex life. Ha, listen to me, always trying to be the coach.

"Hey Frankie," I say standing up. "You here to pay me the dough you owe or are you thinking about increasing your losses?"

"No, I figure I would earn it back," he responds with a gleam in his eyes.

"Earn it? When did you start working?" I said and punched him in the shoulder.

"Not work my friend, a little challenge, you up for a challenge?" He says and I nod waiting for his gambit. "Now I am sure you are a little afraid to test your salesmanship skills, so I will understand if you aren't interested.

I know the guy is jerking me around, he wouldn't stand a chance in a battle of sales and he knows it. I figure he has cooked up something that he can't lose at, but I figure even then I am going to win. I was still rocking with the adrenaline I get when I sell a car. It's like a drug and when I am hopped up like that, I think I can do anything. And if it involved sales, I would take on all comers.

"Yeah, when you put it that way, you might have an advantage over me, I mean you do know how to sell cars," I say that half as a compliment, because he can sell his share of vehicles, but I use this phony deflated tone in my voice so he knows I am being a little sarcastic; just so he doesn't get to big an inflated ego. "Of course, since you owe me, I really don't have much to lose now do I?"

I wanted to taunt him back, at the same time give myself an excuse if I lost. I always act like I know he needs the money and pretend I let him win once in a while. Of course we both know I want to win every contest.

"Okay, but if you want to back out, tell me up front."

"Layout your challenge," I tell him, sometimes he likes to be theatrical as a way of yanking me around.

"This might be one of our crazier bets, so I suggest the bet to be $60," he begins.

"$60, that would put you down $100, which would mean on pay day you have to pay me off," I point out.

"Well your math is right, if you win. On the other hand, you lose and I am up $20," he still has that smile as he talks. "You up for this?"

"I can say yes without even hearing the bet. And I would be glad to win if only so I can wipe that cocky grin off your face," I say.

"Just what I like to hear," he says, then pauses, to set me up. "Here is the bet, starting after lunch the first guy to get a blow job wins."

I look at him like he is out of his mind

I mean even with his rolodex I could find a woman right now. I would be a winner before the work day is over. Not to mention I have a hand full of women 'go to women' I could call, who would suck me in my office. Just for the excitement of doing it. I know there is a catch to Frankie's bet, but catch or not, don't see him having a chance.

"You and Sheryl get back together?" I ask. Sheryl has been Frankie's on and off girlfriend for the last four years. Every so often she will break up with him, then two weeks she remembers that it is hard to attract men when you are 30 pounds overweight and will be back. Supposedly the last time was the last time.

I figure if he was back with her, he had a pretty good chance. Maybe they even cooked up this scheme together, where she would be waiting for him at the restaurant and after lunch blow him in the restroom. It didn't exactly seem like something Sheryl would want to do, but to help Frankie win a bet over me --- maybe.

"No, I told you that is over," he says. "Besides she is off limits in this bet."

"Why, no ex-girlfriends? Are you saying I can't call up someone I have dated?" I am calculating my own rules as I say this. I know of two or three customers that I could call and, after dinner, I'd be the winner. I have been pretty lucky with divorcees buying cars. They come in here with low self-esteem, to buy their first post-marriage car. After holding their hand through the process, I have the women eating out of my hand. In fact there was a woman, Diane Cadwell, just last week that gave me a hug before driving off in a Civic. She made some comment about it didn't matter if the car was small, she was a lone most of the time. The comment told me, had I been interested, neither of us would be alone that night if I wanted. You learn to pick up on these comments.

"No, no ex-girlfriends," He said and his smile seemed even wider. I was mentally calling Diane, working on the dialogue to pique her interest.

"In fact," he said, then after a theatrical pause worthy of Marlon Brando, added: "No women at all."

We just stared at each other for about five minutes, then it hit me was joking and I ROARED. "Awww fuck Frankie, that is a good one. You had me going." I kept laughing until my sides hurt. The thing is, the expression on Frankie's face didn't change. Not like it would if he had just pulled a good joke on me.

"No," said in a measured voice, "this is my challenge."

"Wait a minute doode, is this your way to come out of the closet. It makes sense, dating that Sheryl for so long, but not getting married, You're a homo aren't you?"

"Kiss my ass," he said, kind of pissed. "And I don't mean 'kiss my ass' as a gay come on. I figured you would have a problem with is bet and would chicken out, but I didn't think you would call me a homo over it."

So I walk around him, looking at him like I would a alien or something and say: "You okay frankie, you sure Jimmie from service didn't hit you in the back of the head with a crowbar?"

He laughs and says, "No. I might be crazy, but crazy like a fox."

"You are serious, you are fucking serious. Okay I will bite, what makes you think I can't get a guy to suck me off even faster than the women I line up. Like that guy, what's his name? Lance? The guy that deliver parts for NAPA, he is gay, I could get him to suck me off and bim bam boom, I have a hundred bucks in my pocket.

"Maybe, but Jimmie told me Lance quit the parts job to be a bartender at a gay bar," he informed me. "But I am not telling you the name of the bar, as if you would go into it."

"What do you mean: 'as if I would go into it'?"

"It's all part of my bet. Kenny, I figure what is something you are so proud of, your 'manliness,' and what would question that? Having a guy suck you off. It might take you a month to work up the courage," Frankie explained

"What? That is bullshit," I said and sat down.

"Bull or not, you don't have what it takes to get a man to suck you off," he taunted.

"And you do? Right"

With that, his smile was back: "I am not sure, I am betting on you failing more than I am betting on me succeeding."

"You are one crazy son of a bitch," I replied. "Say you are right --- I can't get a guy to toot my horn --- what happens if you can't either."

"I figure we put a time limit on it, a week. If neither of us finds a guy to perform fellatio, the bet is dropped," Frankie explained

" 'Fellatio,' first you come in here with a gay challenge, now you are using words like 'fellatio.' I thought I knew you, but now I wonder." I said it and I meant it. If you would have told me an hour ago that Frankie and I would have been talking about get a guy to suck me off, I would have told you you were out of your mind. Now I wonder if maybe Frankie was out of his mind, or maybe he set up this bet because he was gay and he could come out of the closet and make some money on the side. On top of that, the thrill I had from selling a car two hours ago was gone.

"All you need to know is I have come up with a bet that you have no chance of winning," he said with a smile that was pissing me off.

"You think I can't do this? Ha the joke is on you. This bet is like any other endeavor. There is a science to it. It would be good to have a natural talent for it and I can safely say I don't know what natural talent is is needed for picking up men, so maybe you have an advantage on me. Second you have to be lucky, who is going to be lucky enough to have a gay man fall into their lap-"

"Literally," he said interrupting.

I just continued with my theory: "and thirdly you do what it takes to appeal to a man who may be willing to suck you off. You do it and you do it, until you succeed." I recanted. "Let me tell you, to win that $100, I can train myself to be good at getting a homo to suck me."

"So the bet is on?" He said, "you aren't backing down?"

"No, as in HELL no. The bet is on," I told him, but I was bluffing. I was up $40 and there was no way I was going to work at finding a man to put his lips around my johnson. If Frankie wanted to I would let him win.

"Okay," I said and forced up a smile, but after I get a guy to blow me, I want my $100 in cash."

"Sure," he said and our conversation switched to lunch. We ordered out.

The afternoon was interesting. We had a good number of customers, I worked on getting my mind back on selling cars. One of the things that was interesting was hardly any men came in, it was mostly women. I guess --- though I wasn't going to pursue it --- my mind had a little focus on men and what would a guy look like that would give a stranger oral pleasure.

Around 3 p.m. Frankie was taking a school teacher for a test drive, when Madeline came into my office. She is the woman that calculates your loan when you buy a vehicle. If you saw the look on her face --- or had any relationship with her --- you would know that car loans aren't the only thing she calculates.

"So did you fall for it?" She asked

"Fall for what?" I asked.

"Frankie's chump bet," She said.

"Chump bet?" I asked. What could she be talking about. Surely Frankie wouldn't have told her about the fellatio wager. Or would he?

"Didn't you hear about the guy that lives under Frankie...well not literally, " she started laughing. "I am not sure if it is literally of figuratively. But there is this gay college student that moved into his duplex, in the lower unit.

"Yea?" I wanted to ask her more, because I wasn't going to say the bet out loud to her.

"Come on, I know you think you are Gods gift to women, but Frankie is not bad, it's no surprise to me that a dixie boy would want to get Frankie to join the confederacy," Madeline was all giggles over that one. It kind of stung what she was saying.

"First of all, let me tell you I am not God's gift to women. If that was true you would go out with me," we both knew how true that was, I have been trying to get in her pants for three years now, ever since she started working at the dealership. "Second....second, Second is I am not as full of myself as you like to think."

She bursted out laughing at that.

"O please, you have to be kidding. You are good looking, still have hair on your head, and a nice thick mesh on the rest of your body..." she stopped and turned a little pink, after all these years, maybe I did have a chance with her. "But the thing is, you are going to lose this bet."

She went on to explain how this college student had been hitting on Frankie for the last month. I didn't know this at all, but apparently Sarah and Frankie now share secrets. She told me about how Frankie just wanted to get me where it counted, so it was Sarah that suggested this bet. And she was so proud of it.

"Come on, admit it, you just can't stand the thought of Frankie winning a bet, any bet," she explained. "And the only thing worse than that is someone would question your manhood."

"What questioning, what are you talking about," I asked, and I added (a little louder than I wanted), "This bet is not about me being a man or not, and it just goes to show you don't know me very well."

"O I know you well enough," Madeline said and she had the same smirk on her face that Frankie did this morning. "And I know you are not letting a man play with your family jewels."

"Madeline, this is where you are showing that don't know me," I said. "The bet isn't over and I haven't lost."

"Ha, like that is going to happen," She said and it was like we were arguing. It is one of those things that makes me want her, just to prove she doesn't know everything. "The only thing less likely to happen is that YOU would give a guy a blow job."

"You think you know it all don't you," I told her.

"Maybe" she said turning to leave, then paused at the door. "Maybe not, but I have a pretty good hunch."

She left and I was pissed again. Now this was a conspiracy. I was half a mind to prove them both wrong. Unfortunately Madeline was probably right. Damn it, that Frankie had sucked punch me again. I got so pissed off about the thought of a guy blowing me, that I didn't realize he probably had the bet all figured out.

I checked off the board drove to "Yankers," a bar down the street. Two scotches later I had chilled out. It was 4 p.m. and I figured I should check in for the last half hour before the dealership closed.

Both Sarah and Frankie asked me if I was okay when I got back. They were afraid I wasn't coming back. I laughed it off and told them I was celebrating my morning sale. When I was talking to Frankie, I added that I was drinking to my new gay friend. He was mum about the guy downstairs, but did admit he had tricked me again, though he admitted he wasn't sure if he had the guts to go through with it.

"But as Madeline pointed out, it is up to me, it's not like you are going to let a man with a dick suck yours," He said in complete seriousness. He had to throw Madeline in just to tweak me.

"O man, you let Madeline trick you into going gay," I insinuate.

Just when he said that, the buzzer when off that lets us know someone has driven on to the lot.

"You want it Frankie?" I asked. "Or are you in a hurry to go home to your boyfriend?"

At least I had gotten in the last barb.

"No, it's your turn Ken," He said alluding to I hadn't been around all afternoon. Looking out the window he added: "O and look it is an attractive blond."

He was right. She wasn't dressed how one would expect or what was common for a customer. She had on a leather mini-skirt, black fishnet hose and sandals with a bit of a heel. The shoes accented her hips as she walked around the red Civic. She also had a tight black t-shirt. She looked a little what they call 'Goth.' Not the usually look that comes in to the lot. For some reason people either look like they are coming from the office or are in Jeans. This woman looked like she was going out for the night.

"Oooh la la, look at her," I said and smacked my lips. "I bet you could score with that sweetie, but then we know which side of the duplex you come down on..."

I added that as a conniving taunt. I figure I would let him know he was in for a lot of homo jokes if he had sex with a man. I mean, contrary to what Madeline might think, I am alright with it, it's just not for me, but I am still going to harass the guy about it.

"Funny," he replied. "Well she is all yours, go and spin your wheels."

The wheels comment was to remind me that no one wants to take a customer at the end of the day. For one thing they couldn't buy a car even if they wanted to, since the secretaries that do the paperwork are out the door on the dot. Also, customers that come in at the end of the day are often lookers, people that would like to buy a car --- if they won the lottery --- but they still like the fantasy of buying a car.

This woman was a 'looker' in more than one way. I grabbed a couple set of keys, including the set that went to the red Civic SI. They would would lock up the building while I was out there. It was just easier to have the keys with me.

As I walked out to this looker. She was a little taller than I had expected. Probably had a lot to do with the high-heeled sandals, but she was a tall girl. Up closer her outfit seemed to accentuate her shoulder-length wavy blond hair.

"Hello," I sad approaching her from the other side of the car. She smiled back, but didn't say anything. "Thinking of economy with the gas prices?"

Again the smile, lovely, and a head nod. I am used to doing a lot of the talking, but I was hoping for more than head shakes, especially if I was working past 4:30.

"Just getting off work?" I asked, work is important. I can calculate a person's salary and how much they can afford just buy knowing where they work.

"No, I had the day off," she said in a low sultry voice. The voice caught me off guard, it seemed to whisper sex.

"Nice, always good to get a weekday off, recharge the batteries, do a little shopping," I can be quite charming. "Where do you work?"

"BJC Health Care," She said. "I am in accounts receivable."

Again I was caught off guard, that voice is not one I was used to. She was a sexy woman, but I never expect a sexy voice to go with the package. And because I was distract, I actually thought she said: "B. J. blah blah would you like to receive?" I felt lust flush through my body. I am sure today's series of events had something to do with that.

I nodded my head like I was taking in the information. It was clear she could afford the car she was looking at. I unlocked the driver's side and opened the door, "Why don't you have a seat, see how it feels."

She walked behind the car to the waiting entrance. I was dangling the keys over the door. Her legs looked even better close up.

"I hope you don't mind me saying this, but an attractive woman like yourself deserves to be in a hot car like this."

"Thank you," she said as she slide in, giving me a good look at her thighs. She adjusted the seat and ran her fingers over the dash and center console.

"Let me tell you, you belong in this car," I told her and handed her the keys. I was mentally calculating how cheap I could set the price of this vehicle. There was no doubt it, she was getting a deal; not to mention the all the important accessories I could throw in --- like me. "It's manual transmission, can you handle a stick."

She tilted up her blue eyes to me checking to see if I was flirting or talking down to her, I winked and let her know it was all flirtation.

"I'm a very good stick girl," she said with a smile flirting right back.

What a day, first selling a car before 10 a.m. and now maybe another sale and perhaps more.

"Would you like to go for a ride?" I soften my voice to match her sultry tone.

"Sure, where would you like to go,"

"It's up to you," I replied and if we kept this up we would be heading back to my place.

I walked around the front of the car to the get in. She was adjusting the rearview mirror, first taking a quick look at her reflection. As I was getting he she was adjusting the seat. I tapped on the door for her to unlock it. Instead of using the automatic lock to her left, she leaned over and pushed the lever. He skirt had rode up her wonderful thighs even more. She had panty hose on and I could see the darker control-top; hell I could see an inch or so of it. Any more and I would be able to see her crotch. She didn't seem interested in pushing it down.

"There are automatic locks over here," I told her and leaned over pointing out the locks. I was almost cheek to cheek with her, getting drunk on her perfume. "You can control all the locks from here."

"So I could lock you in here?" she asked coquettishly. Damn she was better at seduction than I was; she had talent, it was her lucky day and she knew the mechanics. Our faces were inches apart, we could have kissed with only the slightest of movements. With the two scotches swirling in my head --- how I stopped --- I don't know. It was at that point that I noticed something, I am not sure what it was, but something different. It might have been the heavy make-up in early afternoon or the thickness of her eyebrows, but she was a little less feminine up close. She was not someone I would kick out of bed though, or a car I was trying to sell her.

"Um yes, I will explain the reclining seats latter," I retorted, then turned my head to the dash.

"Here is the speedometer, and the tachometer," I explained, her perfume was exquisite, "You wouldn't want to race the engine."

I leaned back and added: "At least until the vehicle is broken in."

"We wouldn't want that," she cooed, "At least not until I was in control of the vehicle."

It was ironic that she would say that, because I felt she was already in control. If she asked, I would have promised to detail her car every weekend for a month.

"You're in the driver's seat," I said with a light sigh and leaned back in the passenger seat so I could put on my seat belt.

She was an excellent driver. When she shifted I would look over as if I was watching her shift, but really was stealing glances at her legs. They where thick and athletic. I thought she might have been at home on a soccer field. I hadn't seen such nice, muscular pegs since I was playing baseball in college.

We didn't go very far and she pulled into a little strip mall.

"How about a drink?" she asked and I realized there was a little tavern between a Chinese restaurant and a dog groomer. The question was basically rhetorical, since she was out of the car before I could answer. It's funny, as much as I consider myself a salesman, I forgot about selling her the car.

She was more talkative in the bar, mostly asking me questions. We sat talking in a booth and I ended up drinking two more scotches. I ended up rambling about playing baseball in college and being drafted by a minor league team. She was drinking diet pepsi, but I could tell she was into me because she kept rubbing her knees against mine under the table. The feel of the fishnet hose against my leg was driving me wild. I had a hard on and wanted to find a new owner for it.

We weren't flirting as much in the bar, but I knew where we were headed, figuratively (sex), literally I wasn't sure. I made a note to myself that I was going to tell Madeline about this and explain the difference between literal and figurative.

I am not sure why, but when the waitress came back, I ordered a third drink. I was tipsy already and the fifth drink of the day put me over the edge. When the drink arrived, Stephi (her name) excused herself. She must have been taking a dump, because she was in the john for about 10 or 15 minutes. Some of that time must have been to adjust her make up, because she looked refreshed. While I sat there alone, I drank down drink too fast.

I was pie-eyed and glad that she suggested we leave when she got back.

"I'm a little drunk," I told her once we were in the car, I said it as I was reclining the seat. "You could take advantage of me."

"I had a sneaking suspicion," she said, but her voice sounded different.

"What?" I asked, more because of the voice change, than because I had misunderstood.

"I'm attracted to you," she said, her voice purring again.

"I'm honored," I told her. "You are are a beautiful woman."

She had gotten the car into fourth gear and left it there and slide her hand over to my crotch. "That's not entirely true."

I was wondering what she meant, but when her hand grabbed my cock, it disconnected the thought from my mind. She drove slow and steady so she wouldn't have to shift gears, allowing her hand at work on my erection. I closed my eyes, my mind swimming like a drunk fish. She whispered: "this feels nice."

"Yes it does," I said agreeing, but from a different perspective.

"I bet it tastes good too."

God, I almost came in my pants. I am used to pursuing women, but was enjoying Stephi doing the seduction. She took her hand away for a second and downshifted, then turned. At that point I realized she had returned to the dealership.

"I.. I," I was stuttering, thinking she was going to leave me like this. Or drop the car and we would have to drive to one of our places. I was thinking: 'I am too drunk for this.'

"Relax," she said, placing her hand back on my cock. "there is a loading dock that is out of sight in the back right."

"Yes," I answered and glanced at my watch. It was about 8 p.m. still light out, but no one goes back there. I was also wondering if I had lost the bet to Frankie. If he worked up the nerve, the downstairs lover boy might be all over his cock. Ironically just like Stephi was with me.

"I thought it might be a nice adventure to see if I could park the car there," she said. Steering with her left hand, Stephi effortlessly slide the Civic out of site in the back, then --- just as effortlessly --- she slipped her hand down my pants.

"O baby," she whispered feeling me erection. I unbuckled my pants and she stroked me a couple times. She leaned towards me, but decided to undo her seat belt. As she did hers, I did mine and pushed the seat back as far as it would go. Together we pushed my pants off.

She contorted herself around in the seat so she was face down on my cock and her beautiful hair covered my lap. In twisting around, her shirt had shifted into a waist band, exposing her ass. All she had on were the panty hose --- no panties --- and I could see her ass through the sheer.

She started to lick and suck my cock. She knew what she was doing. Someone must have sat her down one time and explained the equipment and how to get the best performance out of a cock because her actions were sublime.

I slipped my hand into her panty hose, and did the litmus test.

It has been my experience that if you want to figure out how kinky a woman is, stick your finger in her ass. If she doesn't like it, she will tell you, but you know it is vanilla sex from there on. If she doesn't complain, there will be no holds barred.

"Yes, that is nice," she said, in weird tone --- a masculine voice. I almost missed the tone because she went right back to bobbing her head up and down and sucking me for all she was worth. She was wiggling her ass around my thumb as I massaged her sphincter.

"mmm mmm mmmm," She was humming on my cock and I was going crazy.

She was playing my cock like a kazoo, hitting all the right notes. I grabbed a handful of her hair and started to flex my whole body, on the edge of an orgasm. "fuck fuck fuck" I whispered as if I was harmonizing with her humming.

"Im im im," I was frantic then I let it out: "I'm going to cum."

I drove the thumb of my left hand deep into her ass and came. My whole body was flexing: "O GOD YES YES!"

"Yurrs Yurrrs," she mumbled with my dick spasming in her mouth.

I looked down at my sweet little cock sucker and realized I had pushed the wig off Stephi's head. Now sitting up, what I saw was a man with a lot of makeup and sperm dribbling down his cheek.

end of part i.