Date: Tue, 21 Apr 2020 16:39:02 +0000 From: Katharine Sexkitten Subject: TINGLES NINE TINGLES NINE By Katharine Sexkitten I lay in Peter`s arms, both of us coming down from our sexual and emotional highs. The tingles had subsided somewhat, but they were still heightened, and reverberating through me. The physical sensations were overwhelming. My pussy had been stretched and filled like never before, and those nerve endings were all afire, telling me non-stop that I had just experienced something real, something visceral, and something life-changing. Peter had made love to me in a way that had shaken me to my very core. Yes, he`d fucked me, and I had willingly and wantonly encouraged it, needed it, brought it on, participated in it. We`d joined in the most intimate of ways, the only way humans could ever truly be whole. Like Peter had said to me at one point in our love-making, his massive girth opening me more than any other man, ``you and I are as one now, Jessica...I`m all the way inside you...can you feel it?...we are together, in the only truly sacred way two people can be together...this is God, right here...this is heaven, right here...`` I had taken him inside me, joyfully. He had touched me inside with his cock, over and over again, in a way no one else ever had. A profound way. Like I`d never been touched before. We`d watched each other go through the journey, nose to nose, from excitement to the building hysteria to the final release, the moments of surreal and sensual honesty and openness. And yet the emotional and psychological ways he`d touched me made the real physical tsunami of feelings pale in comparison. He`d let me explore my sensual capabilities. He`d let me see that by taking his cock in me, taking his cock into my soul, I was also taking his soul. We`d never be the same, the two of us. We`d both shared our love, our lust, and our passion, to the zenith of intimacy, and now we were both different people, our lives enhanced by having gone through the journey together. For a long time we lay together, murmuring sweet nothings at each other, caressing each other, revelling in our sweaty bodies, talking about how fucking fantastic the sex was and how fucking fantastic we were feeling, both of us with cum all over us. Our torsos, from my giant orgasm while he was on top of me, were coated in my juice. And I also had the special and solitary thrill of feeling his cum sliding out of my freshly-fucked asspussy. YUM YUM YUM!!!!! I don`t think I`ve ever felt more feminine, more sexual, and more alive! Almost an hour after his cock had slipped out of me, both of us groaning our natural displeasure at that, I raised myself up and moved to straddle him. He was on his back, his head supported by pillows. His smile was mesmerising. His eyes were alive with passion. For me. His cock was again hard. And very very slippery, since I`d been giving him the most glorious hand-job for about half an hour, slowly edging him and bringing him close to cumming, but always sensing the imminent explosion and backing off just in time. I wanted it to last. His precum was voluminous, however, and his entire huge shaft was now wet and slippery and perfect for what I had in mind. For what I needed. That which this slut was made for. Now, I moved so my legs were on either side of him, my legs bent under me. I never stopped staring at him, sending him my love and lust and ardor through the most intense non-verbal communication. I wanted him to know how much I adored him, his body, his attitude, his obvious love for pleasure. I wanted him to fuck me again. No, check that. I wanted to fuck him. Cowgirl. YUM! I reached back with my right hand, found his rock-hard cock, and with the greatest of ease pointed it straight into my pussy, holding it firm as I slid myself down on to it. One fantastic inch at a time. His eyes were sparkling, encouraging me to take what I wanted, as he watched my every feeling broadcast all over my face. The enormous initial physical act of stretching my asshole, my pussy lips, to take his girth. Then the exquisite shock and joy of that much man meat beginning to find its way inside me, into me, reshaping me and changing me, filling me and more importantly fulfilling me. Then the abject euphoria of his entire cock being in me, to the brim, his pubic hair tickling the delicate white skin of my ass cheeks. And once that point was reached, we moved together as if in the most erotic of dances, both us wordlessly knowing each step as nature was choreographing it. My legs and torso took over for my brain, and I began just bouncing up and down on his cock. Luxuriating in it, losing myself in it, giving up any sense of there even being a rest of the world out there. I became a pneumatic machine, an absolute fuck-doll. Up and down and up and down. I was driving his cock into me as fast or as slowly as I wanted. I was controlling the entire event. BANG BANG BANG went the headboard of the bed into the wall, neither of us caring at all about it, as I fucked my man. As I fucked my man. We both talked, in breathless syllables, each of us knowing the eroticism of words will enhance everything. I kept babbling about ``being so full of cock`` and ``I never want this to end`` and ``fuck me Peter, fuck me!``, and he just kept encouraging me to ``take my cock, darling`` and ``your pussy is so fucking beautiful`` and ``I want to fuck you every day like this!``. His big hands came up to my nipples, pinching them through my bra. I moaned my approval. So he gripped them even harder, turning them in a deliciously sinful way. As if he could read my mind he whispered, ``Have you ever thought about having real breasts, Jessica?`` and the idea raced through me like a wildfire! YES!! I want real breasts. I want my man to fondle them and kiss them and suckle them. I want to wear low-cut sexy tops and dresses and show off my gorgeous feminine breasts. I want men, and other gurls, and everyone else for that matter, to desire my tits. To play with them. To see me as I want to be seen, a sexy feminine sultry sensual slutty gurl!!! A gurl with a great ass, a nice big set of tits, a pussy to die for, and the greatest attitude in the world....I am a special woman, and I will be that way every second I can be for the rest of my natural life...and I adore getting fucked!!! A short while later my tempo increased. I was truly bouncing up and down on him now, my arms out to my sides to keep my balance, his cock ramming over and over again into me, from the gigantic tip to the wide base, again and again and again. I could feel another massive cum approaching for me, and the look in his eyes told me he was on the same path. I knew he was really close when his big hands moved to my hips, and his hips started moving with me, slamming his gorgeous penis into me as I came down from my bounce, both of us beginning to grunt, the bed slamming harder and harder into the wall, our moans and whimpers getting louder and louder. Soon, it was just pure and utter sex. WHAM WHAM WHAM WHAM WHAM. Cock into pussy, man into woman, faster and faster and harder and harder and then I began violently cumming, like a fountain, my head falling back, my mouth open wider than ever before, the animal-like sound coming from me almost scary in its honesty and volume. Pure and utter fucking. As I continued to cum, my world became bright white with stars again. Covering me, enveloping me. I was riding a wave of tingles that were totally consuming me. It was the most selfish moment of my life, and also the most selfless. My pleasure was enflaming him, enraging him, catapulting him to his most lofty existence as well. He came inside me with a loud scream. His eyes clenched shut, his face became a grimace, like every ounce of energy his body could produce was being used to propel his semen into me, quite possibly harder than he`d ever cum before. If I didn`t know he was in the grips of pleasure, I would swear he was suffering the most inhuman pain. But I knew better. He was reaching nirvana, inside me. Through me. Through my pussy, through my body, through my passion and desire for his cock and his cum and his love. We shared that most sacred of human accomplishment again. Peter had very wisely previously set his alarm clock, because I collapsed on top of him and his arms wrapped around me harder than ever before, and we both fell into the deepest of sleeps. It was as if our shared sexual and spiritual orgasms had made us both pass out. We`d lost consciousness on a sea of pleasure. When we awoke, I was still on top of him, still cocooned in his arms, and his cock was still inside me, albeit not completely hard. I was immediately gleeful that I`d spent hours sleeping with cock in my pussy. I loved my new life, and it was all due to my tingles!!! One quick but glorious fuck later, Peter asked me if I wanted an escort back to my room, having woken us up with enough time for both of us to get ready for our busy business days. I kissed him lovingly, thanked him for his offer, and told him that I wanted to make the walk by myself. Because I wanted every human in every room in the hallway to open their doors, right then and there. To see me. The real me. Freshly fucked. On display. A sexual being, a feminine slutty cross-dressing special woman. One walking in her high heels with her head held high. Proud. Ecstatic. Unashamed. Back in the day I would have been like a lot of men and called it the walk of shame. But it wasn`t a walk of shame, not at all. I told Peter it was my walk of honor. My slut walk, and one that I would make with pride. It would be me, at my truest, being myself. I would almost shout out to the doors as I passed them! LOOK AT ME!!!! I AM JESSICA KURVA!!! I AM THE MOST SPECIAL OF WOMEN!!! I JUST SPENT THE NIGHT WITH A BEAUTIFUL SEXY MAN AND HE FUCKED ME AND I FUCKED HIM AND WE BOTH FUCKED EACH OTHER!!!! I HAVE NEVER FELT PROUDER, OR MORE SURE OF MYSELF. I AM A SLUT!!!! I AM JESSICA KURVA!! Jessica Slut. Monday was a full one. Meetings, and emails from back home with local issues to deal with. I was meeting people I`d communicated with before but never face-to-face. I was full of energy, and on top of my game. And also hornier than I`d ever been, all day long. It was astounding. My mind was reliving and replaying every last delicious part of last nights` fun with Peter, but at the same time I was lucid and totally into my surroundings and aware of everything going on around me. As if I could split my mind, and end up doing multiple things at once, easy as pie. I made several suggestions or points in various meetings that were salient and appreciated by some pretty high-up people in the organization, and I felt like my position on the national team was deserved and indeed a good fit for the company. Plus, I was wearing panties and a garter belt and the silkiest of stockings under my boring boy clothes, and that thrill of dealing with the real world knowing that underneath the false veneer was a slutty feminine gurl made me giddy. If only all these people knew that I am a special gurl. They think I`m one thing, when I`m totally another. The tingles coursed through me all day long. I am a very special gurl. Peter was in an early-afternoon meeting I was part of. He sat at the other end of the big boardroom table, and everything was perfectly professional and respectful. But every once in a while he would look at me, for just a second or two, and I could read everything going on in his soul. Joy, and passion, and desire, and lust, and mirthful musings, like he was bubbling under the surface with glee. Everytime I thought of how we`d fucked last night, my little cock got even harder in my panties. One particular look from Peter let me know he knew I was hard, and that he was hard too. YUM! There was a group plan for dinner, so I went along. It was a very expensive restaurant, and I felt like I was suddenly living a life I could never have imagined just a couple of weeks ago. My business world was moving into new exciting areas, at the same time that my emotional and spiritual world was moving into its new but rightful place. The camaraderie with the group was wonderful. Everyone was cordial and supportive. I was truly enjoying my time. Some people talked about going to a nightclub to see an up-and-coming jazz group, and while I would have normally been open to it, one look into Peter`s eyes and I knew I`d say no. I made a big deal about hemming and hawing and making it look like I was serious, but in the end I bowed out and said I`d just go back to the hotel and relax. My new and special way of relaxing. Barely two minutes after I got to my room I received a text from Peter. Did you decide to go to the jazz club with the others? I had just stripped off all my clothes and started the shower running, so my response was quick and to the point. No, my darling. Give me a few minutes to get ready. I want you again Peter. I need you again. Don`t you want me again? I already knew the answer, but the flirting was fun. His answers sent my tingles from zero to a hundred in about a millisecond. More than life itself. I got ready real fast. I wore my camel pencil skirt again, the one I`d worn the other night at Brads. This time I wore a forest green silk blouse, with padded shoulders, and lots of bangles on both wrists. Underneath, a matching bra and panty set from Victoria`s Secret, in lavender. Black thigh-highs slipped sensuously and sinfully up my freshly-shaved smooth as silk legs. I`d brought two wigs with me on the trip, so since I was Farrah last night I decided to change it up, and after makeup I donned my black Cher wig. Long and dark, parted in the middle, hanging halfway down my back. My only other pair of shoes I`d packed were a touch more conservative than last nights, simple three inch heeled black pumps. But still gorgeous and feminine. This time, I didn`t even check the spyhole to see if anyone was in the hall, I just grabbed my little clutch purse, checked my makeup one last time in the mirror, opened the door, and started walking. In heels. My hips just naturally swung, I was totally into it. My walk made me look like a harlot, I suppose, in some minds. But to me, it was tingle-city!!!! They were zooming and weaving and zigging and zagging all around me, carrying me on the wings of joy. Instantly I saw a man two doors up, just entering his key card into the slot, a suitcase by his feet. He heard me close my door and looked over at me, slowly, like people do. He had the look of a business person, maybe a lawyer or accountant. One who`d had a long day. He looked tired. He was in his late sixties, I`d guess, with a ruddy face, and a certain air of sophistication underneath his weary demeanour. But as soon as he saw me, walking towards him, his mood changed. His posture changed. He stood straight up, as tall as he could make himself, and an ear-to-ear grin appeared on his face. Now he looked alive, like he was full of vim and vigour. ``Good evening,`` he said, and bowed his head slightly towards me. ``Good evening,`` I replied, in my breathiest voice. ``Miss, I don`t mean to offend you, and please take this in the most respectful way possible, but you look like a million bucks!`` My smile was huge. At him. I felt like I had him in my laser beams of femininity. ``Why, thank you, kind sir,`` I replied, nodding my head towards him as I passed behind, walking towards Peter`s door. ``I feel like a million bucks!`` ``I hope you have a most wonderful evening, young lady,`` he said, turning his head the other way towards me, following me, watching my ass wriggle inside my tight skirt. I kept walking, slowly, with my hips sashaying back and forth, and turned to look at him over my shoulder. ``Oh, I plan on it.`` I blew him a kiss, which made him smile even wider, and then returned to my walk down the hall. At the end, I knocked on the door, looking back to see him still standing there. Watching me. Peter opened his door, and saw me looking down the hall. So he casually stepped to the edge of his door, and poked his head out. He saw the man, still just standing there looking at me. Admiring me. Lusting after me. Then Peter sent my heart soaring. He turned to look at me, now directly in front of him, and he gracefully put his right arm around me, on my lower back, and pulled me to him, gently, so our bodies met. I could feel his hardness through his slacks. My head snapped around, to look up into those eyes. Those same eyes that captivated me last night, watching my every feeling as he fucked me to the stars. Then he leaned down and kissed me, lovingly, and I responded in kind. I brought my arms up to go around his head and neck, and put all my balance on my left foot, raising my right leg from the knee down, showing my new neighbour the most feminine sight of a lovely lady in a long pencil skirt and blouse being kissed romantically by a gorgeous loving man. When we broke our kiss, we both looked down the hall. The man nodded, and I noticed a bulge in his pants, and then he shuffled into his room and closed the door. Peter and I looked at each other, and began giggling. Then he showed me inside his suite. To a surprise. There was somebody else there, sitting on the sofa. A woman, I thought in the initial first seconds. Then another second or two worth of visual information clarified things for me. A special woman. Like me. Peter spoke first. ``Jessica, I`d like you to meet one of my oldest and dearest friends, Michelle.`` She stood as we approached, and stuck her right hand out towards me. ``Oh Peter,`` a husky voice said, ``she`s even lovelier than you described!`` I blushed, I`m sure, and stuck out my right hand. ``Thank you, Michelle! You are looking pretty gorgeous yourself!`` And she was, from head to toe. Her hair was reddish, almost metallic in colour, had short bangs and cascaded down her back. She was wearing an evening gown, very formal, navy blue in colour, with white trim around her wrists and bust line, full-sleeved and so long it was almost touching the ground. It had to have been satin, and shone in little movements as she moved. A plunging neckline showed a hint of cleavage. And she had the most gorgeous leopard print heels on, with at least four inch heels. All in all, a very elegant and sexy older special woman, perhaps in her mid to late sixties. Her makeup was flawless, and her lips begged to be kissed. She moved towards me, and I set myself prepared for an air kiss, both cheeks. And all at once I was hit, like a shot of lightning, by her scent. Her aroma. It was intoxicating. Whatever perfume she was wearing, it was one I`d never encountered before, and it was driving me insane with passion, instantly. It was like nothing I`d ever smelled before. It captivated me. It captured me. I wanted more of it, always and forever. And instead of the air kisses on both cheeks, she moved to me, pulling my hand with hers, our breasts touching, our thighs touching, our groins touching, and palmed my cheek with her left hand, and kissed me. Softly. Right on the lips. And it was fantastic! So I kissed her back. Peter`s hand was on the small of my back, and he slowly slid it down to cup one of my ass cheeks while Michelle and I kissed, at first just with soft lips on lips, but soon graduating into languid and gentle tongue touches. A whole new level of tingles arose in me. This was tingles times three! We kissed and touched each other softly for a few minutes, and then by unspoken agreement we broke away and settled down to sit next to each other on the sofa. Peter handed both of us a glass of wine, and slid a tray of appetizers from room service towards us on the coffee table. ``Peter has told me all about you, Jessica,`` she said, her voice belying her appearance, and pointing at her birth gender. I noticed she wore a choker around her neck, silvery and sparkly and metallic, and covering her Adam`s apple. I wanted one of those for myself, and blurted that out. They both laughed, in a joyful way. Michelle continued. ``He and I always get together when he`s in town.`` ``Indeed, we do,`` Peter said. ``I`ve known Michelle for years. She worked with Josie for a short while, many years ago, and soon joined us in the lifestyle clubs we belonged to.`` Michelle interjected. ``I`m a chemist, like Josie was.`` I nodded my understanding. ``Careers moved us further apart for many years,`` Peter continued, ``but we`ve always remained friends and lovers and enjoy spending time together when I`m travelling. She`s also another `Darling`,`` he added, nodding towards her hand, where my eyes moved to and saw the same ring as he had on his finger. I looked into her eyes, and she smiled. She was positively glowing with sexuality, and I decided I needed a new way of measuring tingles. Right now they were going through the roof. Then she told me all about herself. A normal upbringing, middle class all the way. Church on Sundays. Her years denying her gay thoughts, her feminine desires. The straight and narrow life. Dating the same girl all through college, remaining virgins. Their wedding night being a disaster, since neither one of them knew what they were doing. They began their journey together on a bad note, because he had wanted to explore sexuality more and more often, and she was the exact opposite. It didn`t enter her radar. They had a daughter, and then they mutually decided to split. Michelle told me of her sexual life. A horny divorced young man, knowing nothing, wanting more, but unaware of what or even how. Tired of jerking off alone, he`d heard about a place where straight men could get blowjobs from gay men. A gloryhole. One night, after being lonely for too long, a visit became inevitable. It turned out to be a glorlyhole inside a bathhouse. He`d never been in one, or even heard of one. The man on duty at the front door explained the place to him, frankly and matter-of-factly. Showers, t.v. rooms, private rooms, theaters, swing rooms. All of it. He`d almost turned around when they told him he`d have to strip and store his clothes in a locker. He`d assumed he could just walk in, discretely pull his little dick out of his pants and someone would suck it. As soon as he was done, he`d be one zip away from getting out. But no, actually getting a blow job, something he`d never had but heard so much about, would require some participation on his part. For a few moments, he questioned his resolve, thought maybe his hand wasn`t a bad thing after all. Then, like a switch had been moved inside his brain, he turned and went in, paid the fee, got his locker key and towel, stripped quickly and wrapped the thin white cloth around his slender body. He`d headed for the gloryhole wall. The man had told him where it was. When he got there, he headed for the left side, the side the guy had told him was for the men getting sucked. He was a man, a straight man, right? He was there to get sucked. So he headed left. Just before he got there, a giant hand came down on one of Michelle`s bare hairless shoulders. She started to turn to see who was accosting her, when she heard a deep basso voice. ``No, sweetie,`` the voice said, in a caring way, ``you should be on the other side of the wall.`` Michelle was about to protest that she was a straight man, and would not be sucking anybody`s cock ever, when her head finally turned all the way around and the man came into her full view. He was tall, and muscled, and hairless, and had muscles on muscles, and was tanned and oiled and looked like a Greek god, with curly blond hair and a thick handlebar moustache above huge lips, and had eyes as fiery hazel as she`d ever seen. He was just looking down at her, a smile on his face. Then he casually dropped his towel, and her eyes travelled down his body, past his nipples as big as Pez candies, over washboard abs, to a cock that hung at least seven inches down, still completely flaccid. Her mouth had watered instantly. She couldn`t take her eyes off it. He moved closer, and she naturally just reached her hand out and touched it, then held it, feeling its weight as it began to grow. She moaned. He grabbed her hand and led her quickly down a series of halls to a small room. It was darkly lit, and had a small t.v. mounted on a wall playing grainy amateurish gay porn, with the tinny sound filling the room. There was a small mattress on a raised platform, only slightly wider than a park bench. He`d spun her, sat her down, and immediately rested the end of his growing cock on her lower lip, telling her that he knew right away she was a virgin, a noob, and probably scared out of her mind, but also bursting with horniness, and that she could finally lose her cherry and be totally anonymous and have his big cock if she wanted it, but she had to make the first move. He wasn`t into forced stuff. Needless to say, she started sucking right then and there. One moment she`d been a straight man, there to get a blowjob, the next she was taking a cock in her mouth and throat, marvelling at the taste of his precum, which was flowing like a river. Her life changed, there and then. This is what she`d always wanted, and never knew. She talked about the indescribable joy of swallowing that first load of cum. She raved about how he`d then spent a long time and lots of lubed fingers to open her up, and then he`d fucked her. Pure and simple. Ass up, face down. The best thing she`d ever done. She came multiple times, before he filled her with his seed. He`d held onto her hips and slammed her once he`d gotten going, and she`d screamed for more, like the horny gay pussy she was. Afterwards, the next morning, came the shame. She wasn`t gay, was she? Back to the straight life. Deny the yearnings, when they started popping up. A couple of months later they were popping up every minute of every day, and she couldn`t deny them anymore, so it was back to the bathhouse. A different guy, but the same results. Over the course of the next few years, her once-in-a-while shameful gay hobby became eventually every weekend, and then sometimes more. Gay ads in various underground magazines were answered, gay bathhouses were visited, and gay nightclubs were frequented. Soon it was an almost-nightly occurrence. Meeting other sexual people, for open and unashamed sexual interplay. And from day one, due to that initial experience in the bathhouse, she had never stuck her little cock in anyone. She was always the bottom. By her own choice. Her own destiny. One night, at a gay nightclub she`d never been to before, it was Tranny night. Another new for her. It was immediately captivating for her. Men dressed as women, in sexy clothes and heels and wigs and smelling so sweet, and acting so gurly but with the sex drives of horny men. And as if a ray of light from heaven above suddenly broke though the sky and pointed down directly upon her, she knew she`d arrived. From that moment forward, away from her successful professional career as a research chemist, she became Michelle, and had never looked back since. She talked about growing a wardrobe, learning makeup and hair, colours and styles and expressing one`s femininity in an almost-endless variety of ways. Temptress, ingénue, harlot, nun, tease, slut, whore, mommy, seductress, queen, princess. As the mood struck her, so she behaved. She talked about how the lifestyle clubs she sought out and participated in meant meeting people from all walks of life, some rich and some poor and some in the middle, and while sex was the main thing, social interaction was equally important. She`d met many people over the years, some who came from the upper upper classes, and befriended many of them, and they`d shown their friendships in lots of ways, from good times at parties and get-togethers to luxuries, such as lavish gifts and trips around the world. And yes, she explained to my stunned reaction, that there were many people, all over the world, who lived lives of sensuality and sexuality, who encouraged others, who gladly and willingly gave of their own time and money to make sure other like-minded and open-minded sexual people shared in the joys of lives worth living. Spreading love and sexual freedom through sponsorship and patronage. She looked me right in the eye and told me that I would meet people in the Darlings who would want to shower me with love and affection and generosities. And no, she explained to my newly stunned reaction, there was nothing immoral or unethical or illegal about any of it. It was purely people with means sharing with others they love. She herself had benefitted many times, too many to mention, including from some information quietly given one evening at a private orgy with a particularly rich European on-again off-again lover to ensure she`d never have to work again her entire life. She let me know she still does, however, because sharing other things with other people over the years had allowed her the chance to start her own company, utilising her chemistry background, and now she was probably going big time in the fragrance world. ``OH MY GOD,`` I blurted, ``is it about whatever scent you`re wearing tonight? Because that is the most incredibly erotic thing I`ve ever smelled. It almost made me cum in my panties when I first noticed it!`` Michelle laughed, proudly. ``Yes! Do you like it?`` ``I LOVE IT!`` She smiled again. ``I`m glad you do. I spent a lot of time on this one. I think it`s the best perfume I`ve ever invented!`` Peter spoke up, for the first time. ``Everyone does. I have personally invested some money in her company, and it has every likelihood of exploding in value very soon. You would be well-advised to get in now, while the share price is still quite low.`` ``Me? An investor? I don`t have that kind of money.`` Michelle looked at me seriously. ``Jessica, we`re this close to doing a deal with a very big player in the world marketplace. For this very fragrance I`m wearing. It`s called LUST.`` I smiled. ``That`s the perfect name for it.`` ``All I`m saying is that if you put five thousand in tomorrow I would suspect that in six months or less you might very well be a millionaire.`` I was gob-smacked. ``Are you serious?`` She nodded, with an assured look on her face. I turned to Peter, and he was nodding just as seriously. ``Your choice, Jessica,`` she said, running her hand up my arm, sending my tingles soaring again, ``no pressure. This is just an example of what loving people do for other loving people. We share sexy good times, of course. But we share joy and friendship and camaraderie, and lots of other benefits too.`` Then she went back to her life story. From that first Tranny night forward, she lived the two worlds so many people do. A satisfying career by day, as a traditional male, and a slutty vixen by night, as her true feminine self. She long ago gave up any care about what others thought, if they found out. She was safe, and respectful of others, of course, as any sane person should be. But she was a very dedicated slut. She talked about how being a slut for her was an affirmation, a complete acceptance of her true natural spirit. Of everyone`s true natural spirit, if they would only allow themselves to understand it. For her, that trueness came in femininity and sex. Like me, in so many ways. She had no desire for any operations, nor did she ever want to lose her male genitalia, because it gave her enormous pleasure. And on that part I agreed, and completely understood. My cock made me feel alive now, being as how it was now the cock of a feminine slutty gurl. It was no longer a male cock, in my convoluted reasoning. They both said they understood what I meant, and that it wasn`t convoluted. My male cock had become a female cock. They both accepted it and talked about it as if it was natural. And it was. It was naturally who I was. Our conversations lasted for a couple of hours. Michelle delighted me in stories of certain encounters, certain lovers, lovely moments and situations from all over the globe. Peter added many of his own. I told them both all about mine too, and my short feminine life as Jessica, now just over a week old. For a while Michelle asked me about my future dreams, and desires. Did I have any thoughts about being Jessica fulltime? My truthful answer was that I was only now in the last day or two even contemplating those kinds of ideas. Was I interested in any surgeries? Being new to this, I`d only had a few days to occasionally see things online about those subjects, so Michelle and Peter talked in generalities about everything from hair removal, permanent tattooed makeup, boob jobs, shaving of Adam`s Apples, injections to make butts and hips bigger, and so forth. Much of it was still so new to me, I hardly had anything to say. But I had lots to think about. I did share with them that Peter`s question last night, the one about breasts he asked in the throes of having me ride up and down on his big fat thick juicy cock, my own cock flapping and flailing about with my bounces, had triggered some enormously serious thoughts in my head. I was honestly thinking about tits. I admitted it to them, with pride. It was as much admitting it to myself as it was to them. But it was true. I wanted breasts. Nothing massive or Dolly Parton-ish, but I realized at that moment that my tingles would rocket just thinking about having breasts. Smooth, upturned, curving, feminine breasts. With rosy red nipples, which luckily I already had. Breasts. Bouncing in my bra as I walked, feeling that weight transference from side to side and up and down with each of my steps. Each of my high-heeled steps. The higher the better. The sluttier the better. For a long time they both talked about the Darlings. There were chapters everywhere, all over the world. Discrete, respectful, people living active sexual lives. Some were straight groups, others were mixed, or bi. Some chapters were gay, some were lesbian. Some were for special women, and their admirers. Michelle called it sexual networking. Events, meetings, parties. As little or as much sex as people wanted. Friendships, lasting relationships, that`s what members really got out of it. Then the subject turned to an unusual one. Michelle straight out asked me. ``Do you realize that you could be Jessica twenty-four/seven?`` I sputtered my champagne a little bit. ``What? How do you mean?`` She smiled at me, a loving caring smile. ``You`re so young and beautiful, and so feminine, and from everything Peter has told me, such a fucking sexy slut, that you could very easily quit your job, and live full time as Jessica.`` I shook my head. ``Really? C`mon, how would I pay my mortgage?`` She took my hand in hers. ``My guess is that at your very first Darling party you will have offers of patronage.`` I took a moment to absorb her choice of words. ``Patronage?`` She leaned towards me, so our faces were almost touching, and her intoxicating aroma came at me in full-force. Her lips were red and shiny and full and I wanted to drown in them. ``Patronage. Someone will be so enamored of you and so generous that they would give of their time and money to allow you to live as you want to live, fully feminine, fully open and fully sexual.`` I couldn`t think of anything to say. ``With no obligations, Jessica. I`m not talking about prostitution here. In the Darlings, there are a lot of movers and shakers, from every world you can imagine. Industry, finance, politics, show business. Lots of them are wealthy, and I don`t mean in just money. But some of them do have money. Lots of it. And power, in many cases. And they`ll want to share it with you, sometimes beg to share it with you, because they want to see you live to your full potential. You`ve probably heard of patrons of the arts? From the renaissance period to now, there are rich people who will spend some of it on talented artists, just to make themselves feel good. Just to make sure that artists are out there, doing their good work.` ``But I`m not an artist,`` I said. ``Yes, you are. You`re an artist of the sexual kind, the sensual kind. The feminine kind. And well-off people, both men and women, will fall all over themselves to be your benefactor. Their payback is knowing their actions allowed another fully sexual person to blossom, and of course socializing with you, from time to time. Seeing you at events and parties. Knowing that their blessings are being shared with their most prized of assets. ``Their sexual friends.`` At that moment, a song started playing in the background. I recognized it. It was Art Garfunkel singing `I Only Have Eyes For You`. A few notes in, and Michelle bounced up onto her feet. ``Oh bless me, I do love this song,`` she whispered, and putting her champagne glass down on the table she turned to me and stuck out her hand in an inviting way. ``Would you dance with me, Jessica?`` I slowly stood up, nodding of course, and after putting down my champagne glass I sensuously walked right into Michelle`s open arms. Peter moved quietly to turn the sound up a little. Not enough to bother anyone else in adjoining rooms, but more than enough for two special women to enjoy a romantic dance. Michelle and I began to sway our hips in time to the music, our arms around each other, our heads resting on each other`s shoulders. The song was gloriously soft and romantic, and holding this older sexy special woman was turning me on to no end. My little cockette was VERY hard in my panties, and leaking lots of yummy precum. I could feel it. I could also feel her little cock getting hard too. And probably leaking. Our mouths were next to each other`s ears, more or less, and she began murmuring into my ear, telling me how sexy I was, and how she loved spending time and playing with sexy special women like me, and I of course softly reassured her that I too loved to spend time with other special women. Soon, our whispered sweet nothings morphed into out-and-out statements of horniness. She told me how much she wanted to suck me, and swallow all my cum. Just hearing her breathy voice in my ear saying those things made my cock jump in my panties, and since I was pressing myself up against her she felt my rise in excitement too. Another soft and romantic song came on afterwards, and we continued to dance together, continued to caress each other, continued to feel each other getting harder and wetter. Soon, she was kissing the side of my neck, and my earlobe, and I was doing the same to her. Minutes after that, she had slid one of her hands down and was rubbing my clitty from the outside of my skirt. Naturally, I was very quickly doing the same to her, through the satin of her evening gown. Nature took its course, and soon we were kissing. Lipstick on lipstick, soft tongue dancing with soft tongue, lips smacking gently and loudly, saliva from both of us being shared by both of us. The promise of the upcoming hours with Michelle and Peter were like a drug to me. My tingles were booming and echoing through my consciousness, and I knew also that her tingles were doing the same. We eventually gave up any pretense of dancing anymore, and worked our way to the bedroom. Kissing, caressing, touching, massaging, swapping spit, two gorgeous sisters making love, two romantic tranny`s beginning the journey of the ages, two sexy slutty gurls about to make the most beautiful of translesbian love. Effortlessly we made it to the bed, both us gently disrobing the other so we were each down to lingerie, and then found ourselves on our sides, staring at the lump in each other`s panties, in the classic sixty-nine position. Without planning, but at the same time, fingers moved and panties were lifted and pulled to the side, and lipsticked mouths found themselves full of gurl cock. And oh my god, can that woman suck cock. Her tongue and lips and suction were of a level that I`d never encountered before in my short feminine existence, and she had me on the edge of cumming within minutes. Which spurred me on, and I was feasting on her small uncut cock, delighting in the copious amount of precum that she was generating. It had a much stronger taste than Peters, or Vladimir's, or Brads for that matter. Strong, and tangy, and delicious, and with a slightly heavier consistency that all the others, and I wanted it more and more. I was single-minded in my resolve, needing her sweet precum elixir like air itself, like a supply of water to a starving person in the desert, and I absolutely was giddy with delight in sucking her, and swallowing all the juices she could give me. I found myself having to concentrate at least somewhat on not cumming too fast. She was that good. And I knew as well that when I did allow myself to explode, it might be the biggest cum in my life. She was that good. We`d been sucking each other and fingering each other`s pussies for a long time when I felt the bed shift slightly. I instantly knew Peter had joined us, and was on his side, right behind me. I felt his hands caressing me, massaging my back, and my stockinged-legs, and then my ass cheeks, making me feel wanted and warm and sexy. Soon he was spreading my cheeks, and the cool air felt insanely sexy against my pussy hole. I heard him whispering about how `fucking sexy` my exposed pussy hole looked, and moments later he was squeezing lube into me and all around my hole, and presumably all over his big thick cock too. Michelle must have known what was going on, and she helped him getting me ready. Her fingers were mixed with his, gaping me, sliding into me, opening me, preparing me, for the inevitable. His cock. His magnificent cock. Thicker than any I`d ever had before, and as long or slightly longer than Brads. Not as long as Vladimir's, but decidedly thicker, and I already knew that he was about to fill me up again, fill me more than ever before. Fill me with his flesh, his soul. Fill me with his passion and lust and love. And then fill me with his cum. I never wanted anything more in my entire twenty-seven years of life. Michelle never lost her concentration on my cock, and still managed to help Peter line up with me. Somehow I just knew she had her feminine hand on the shaft of his cock, guiding it to my pussy. I moaned audibly around her cock, louder than ever before in my entire life, when the bulging head of his penis easily entered me, expanding my ring quickly to its shape, effortlessly sliding further into me, changing my physical being right down to each individual cell, and then finally ending its path fully embedded in me, touching my insides and reshaping them to his will, his body touching mine at the base of his cock, my prostate being rubbed in yet another new way, another exotic and erotic way, my battle not to cum becoming that much harder. Then he fucked me. At first it was gentle, but soon his passion and lust for my sexy pussy overtook him, and he started slamming into me. It must have made it a little more difficult for Michelle to continue to devour my little cock, because his ramming into me was engendering huge movements of my own, but she held on, her suction and oral loving unlike any other I`d ever had. Later on I realized that she`d done lots of these kinds of things before. She was an experienced slut! I wish that somehow we`d recorded the audio of the night. The room was now full of moans and groans and sucking sounds and slurping sounds and the tell-tale squishy sounds of a well-lubed cock going in and out and in and out of a sweet pussy hole in faster and faster speeds, building momentum, gathering intensity, racing towards the inevitable conclusion of orgasms. Luckily, we were all able to hang on and delay the finale for as long as possible. I kept sucking Michelle, and fingering her pussy, while she continued to devour my little cock, desperately wanting my gurly cum, while Peter became a grunting swearing sweating fuck machine, just non-stop drilling into me, the entire length and breadth of his fantastic cock pistoning in and out of me, over and over again, sending my body into spasms of feelings right at the edge of pain and right at the edge of my being able to handle them, but never over those edges. He had me, in his sights, and the man inside him was going to completely lose himself to the woman inside me. I came first, bright white lights filling my vision, filling her mouth with my salty goodness, which caused her to suddenly lurch, her pussy hole clamping down on my finger inside of it, and her little gurly balls exploding and sending wave after wave of tangy cum past my taste buds and into my belly. YUM. Then Peter exploded. I head a sound from behind me unlike anything I`d ever encountered before, like a human male animal reaching a zenith of physical and emotional experience, a loud and deep voice, carnal and loving and feral all at the same time. Like the sound of heaven. His grip on my hips became life-altering when he came, and left marks, and after we`d all rolled off each other and Michelle and I had cuddled into him, our heads on his chest, his big arms around both of us, he apologized. But I quickly admonished him. No, his finger marks on my hips were nothing to be apologized for. They were the marks of joy, to me. The marks of passion. They made me feel even more feminine and loved, if that was possible. For a while none of us spoke, but after a few minutes we all started to get our breaths back. ``Peter, if you don`t nominate Jessica right now I will,`` Michelle said. I didn`t know what she meant. ``Nominate?`` I asked. Peter took over. ``Long-term members of the Darlings have the privilege of nominating new people to an individual chapter, if they`re interested in joining. Two long-term members approval and a nominee is guaranteed entrance.`` Then he paused for a moment of two. ``Michelle and I are both long-term members.`` She added, ``in different chapters.`` Peter hushed us both. It seemed he had different ideas for how we should spend our time. Michelle and I kissed softly with our heads on his chest. She was a lovely human being, and I wanted her to know that. We both spent some time fondling Peter`s cock, of course, and it soon came back to life, so I offered it to Michelle in whispers. And then I sat back and watched these two experienced lovers. Their shared history meant there was no stumbling, no gaps, nothing unnecessary or inept. They were two people who knew each other`s bodies, who knew each other`s sexual likes and dislike, who knew the other so well that their love-making was languid and beautiful. I masturbated as they made love. It was the most sensual thing I`d ever seen. Both of them knew when to go fast, when to go slow, when to be forceful and when to back off, and their shared sex was awe-inspiring. I could only wish to one day attain that level of intimacy, that level of familiarity, that level of expertise, and that level of shared sexuality. Once again, I came first. All over the sheets of the bed. Then Michelle came again, all over her own belly, contrary to her earlier prediction that she wouldn`t be able to cum again so soon, in screams and gasps and moans, and finally Peter lifted himself up on his hands from his elbows, roared like a lion, arched his back and blew himself into her. Can life get any better than this? I asked myself. Goddamn it, I FUCKING LOVE MY TINGLES!!!! The end.