Date: Mon, 28 Apr 2003 06:25:45 -0700 (PDT)
From: Jaymes Ryan <jayryan90028@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Girls and Me, Part 3  (TG, F^m)

THE GIRLS AND ME -- PART 3 (F^M)

(Disclaimer: This a work of adult fiction, do not read it if you are
underage or if explicit and alternative sex discriptions offend you.)

After that every time Pammy came over she would fuck me with her strap-on
dick.  Or mine.  She gave me one as a present, just like she did to Shelly
that night.  Gave her a strap-on, I mean.

I looked forward to seeing her.  It was my first experience with a woman
who liked to play the boy with me and employ my feminine urges.  I guess
they were feminine. Although she often dressed me in frills and silk, and
called me slut, pussy and whore, I never felt like she left off enjoying me
as a man.  It seemed like it was the very fact of my masculinity that was
essential to her erotic satisfaction.  The hungry consumption of my long
penile pleasure stick shuddering and spewing, spasms of orgasms from creamy
bulbous mushroom head through like a hot rail through to the clit inside my
nether lips.  She knew how to milk my prostrate, massage the cum juice
right out of that organ.  Slowly, we loved to manage that member, so drops
and streams of semen came, that we each tasted in turn.  The salty precious
sperms imbuing us from within our throats so no part of us failed to share
in the carnal love.

For my part I loved succumbing to her wiles and charm; descending dreamily
beneath her dominating fleshy imagination.  Dominating? It could feel
dangerous. When I found myself getting self-conscious I would just think:
"Submit to her. Don't want, or need or think you know where it's going, or
should go.  Let her take you and use you in her own private fantasies and
desires.  Be a mirror to her libido, give expression to her unrealized
desire.  Just respond and appreciate every minute while it lasts."  Every
minute of her intimate manipulations of my private carnal organs.  Express
my desire to be used and fucked by her thrusts and strokes.  A phallus and
a vulva beneath her wanton fingers and clitoris.  Man, was I lucky.

Stroke my clitoris, baby.  Make my pussy cry.  I'll fall to my knees to eat
you, your perfumed lips swollen, dripping the cum nectar into mine;
brilliant tear drops and sighs, slaking my thirst for abandon in the
manifold ejaculating mound-hill of your venus in thighs, wet crack of
volcanic spume, squirting in to me from your big cock monster clitoris
honoring me with pleasure to be your fuck, baby.  You might say I looked
forward all week or day or whatever, to when she would come again to me.
And in to me, and all over me.

My wife, Shelly, knew Pammy was doing me, but I don't think she knew the
depth and dimension of it.  To Shelly it was all sex, which it was, but to
Shelly it was just sex.  In a superficial way.  She herself loved Pammy's
company, and since Pammy kept Shelley's fat juicy snatch all squishy,
excited and satisfied, she allowed Pammy to diddle and dally and play with
me, amused to watch her dyke sweetie pole the boy toy, because Pammy had
the capacity to make her benefactress experience this adulterous indulgence
as their own sapphic foreplay.  After she was through with me, I watched
enviously at the girls' lesbian couplings, feeling used.  Humiliatingly,
excitingly and deliciously used. And jealous of the pussy being fucked by
the cunt clit between Pam's thighs.

I began to feel less like Shelly's husband and more like her unappreciated
love slave.  On loan for her amusement.

Eventually, after some time passed, Pammy even began to stop by when Shelly
was away.  And I took to meeting her at the door on those occasions in a
skirt, and panties, and sometimes high heeled shoes.  Black.  She didn't
really care what I had on top, if anything.  At least not until after she'd
had me bend over the nearest counter, table or chair, and fucked me with
her prosthetic dick.  Her big long creamy, blue-veined throbbing dick that
she wore under her pants or skirt so there would be no delay to her
satisfaction.  She would come up behind me, me wearing textured hose and a
garter belt, bent over with my white ass stuck up as high as my spike heels
would allow, and drive it right into my hole.  We did it so much that my
ass felt like a horny pussy that just couldn't get enough.  It yearned
between visits for that good fucking.

Sometimes I would prepare before she came by attaching the strapon she gave
me to a chair so that I could back into it or sit on it and get my hole all
lubed up, stretched out for her super clit.  Oh, don't get me wrong, she
liked to force it in and feel me hurt; but, she also like to see me bent
over all glistening and horny.  And especially she like to see the chair
where I had prepared, even to watch me fuck myself on it.  Many times after
she had fucked me and come, she would sit back on the sofa stroking her wet
sticky dick and encourage me to masturbate while taking that strapon up my
butt.  I would make quite a show of it for her.

copyright jayryan90928@yahoo.com