Time to Suck Some Cock TS

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Time to Suck Some Cock TS
I knew it was a tranny bar. I had worked down the street for almost four years and had heard all the stories. Our parking structure was just across the street from Fern’s Place, so many of us had occasionally seen what we believed to be transsexuals. And although I had a fascination with shemales I had never been in the place.

Tonight was different. My wife was back in Chicago nursing her sick mother. I had worked late finishing up an overdue account. I just didn’t feel like going home to an empty condo. Just one drink, I thought . . . just one to relax a little bit and look around.

The place was smaller than I thought. There was a bar with maybe fifteen seats, four booths along one wall and a couple of tables. It was pretty empty. There were a couple of guys at the far end of the bar and four women sitting at a booth. The girls looked to be in their mid-thirties and looked attractive. They may have been to a gym or something as they were all dressed in workout clothes.

There was no one behind the bar. The guys were busy with each other, but the ladies all gave me a look as I took a stool at the counter. One of the gals said something I couldn’t hear and the others giggled.

The lack of customers surprised me, but I realized it was a Tuesday and only 7:30 pm. Maybe the after work group had left and the late evening crowd had not arrived yet.

An elderly asian woman came out of a back room behind the bar, saw me, and hurried down to where I was sitting. She mumbled an apology and asked what I’d like to drink. Moments later she produced a rather large glass of Jack Daniels with ice.

The girls seemed to have an interest in me and glanced at me often. They would talk in hushed tones and sometimes peek at me and laugh. I would have liked to have flirted with them or joined them, except I’m a naturally shy guy and had no idea how to approach them. So I just sat there and worked on my drink. I had hoped to see some transsexuals, but was pretty sure the girls in the booth were natural women. They were too pretty to be trannys I thought.

After a while the guys at the other end left. They walked out arm and arm and it was just me and the ladies. I had finished my drink and was thinking about leaving when one of the girls slid out of the booth and went up to the bar. I couldn’t help but notice her and found myself staring. She was gorgeous . . . probably close to six feet tall and physically toned. She was wearing skin tight yoga pants, and a cut off t-shirt top that left about a foot of her flat midriff exposed. She had a beautiful, full, rounded butt. Her breasts were not very large, but were certainly full . . . a D cup, I guessed. She had short silver blond hair combed straight back with a wet look. Her narrow face had high cheekbones and full, lush lips.

The barmaid came out of the back room, had a short conversation with the gal and brought me another large Jack Daniels. I raised my drink and smiled at my sponsor as she slid back into the booth. She gave me a dazzling smile and tipped her glass back to me.

When I was almost done with my second drink I had a pretty good buzz on and was thinking about leaving. I watched as the girls huddled together and had a whispered conversation. A brunette, who had her back to me, turned and took a long look then turned back and shook her head. I knew I had to pee before I left, so I headed for the men’s restroom which was around a corner in the rear.

It was a small bathroom with one urinal, one toilet stall and one wall hanging sink. I headed to the urinal and wrestled my penis out of my fly-less underwear.

It startled me when I heard the door behind me open. I thought I was the only guy in the place and wondered who would be coming in.

Then a mellow feminine voice said, “Hi Sweetie, you waiting for me?”

I was halfway through emptying my bladder and tried hard, without much success, to shut it off mid-stream.

“Just leaving,” I muttered as I tried to get my still dripping penis back into my underwear.

I heard the lock on the bathroom door snap shut and glanced over my shoulder to see the tall blond who had ordered me a drink.

“No hurry,” she said, ” . . . and leave it out, I want to take a look.”

I was still struggling with my dick and underwear with both hands, when I felt a hand on my back.

“I said leave it out”

I was still messing with my dick when my face was suddenly mashed against the wall above the urinal.

“Don’t you hear well, Sweetie? I said I wanted to see your cock.” She growled next to my ear.

I attempted to struggle, but I was off balance and tilted forward. The porcelain urinal was between my legs, the plumbing was jabbing me in the chest and my face was flattened against the wall. I stopped messing with my dick and got both hands on the wall. I tried to push off, but found my assailant was strong and in my awkward position I couldn’t even budge. Her other hand worked its way between my legs from behind and took a firm grip on my testicles.

“I don’t want to hurt you, baby, but if you don’t behave I’m going to rip these right off.”

I tried again to twist and push off the wall when the pain hit. For a second, I really did think she had torn my balls off it hurt so bad.

“Give it up, bitch. I’m just trying to give you what you came in here for,” She argued.

“And what was that?” I managed to moan.

“You wanted to suck a nice big tranny dick,” She said. “So let’s get to it.”

She yanked on my balls from behind and grabbed my shirt collar with her other hand and pulled me off the wall. I had to baby step backward while she forced my head down to almost waist level. In this position she maneuvered me over to the single toilet stall and pushed me in head first.

“Now, I can either stick your head in that toilet and start flushing or you can start cooperating. You can see that I’m bigger, stronger and in better shape then you are. So, if you want to fight me, the trash men will find your bruised and beaten body in the dumpster out back tomorrow morning. It won’t be the first time that’s happened.”

“I don’t want to fight you. I just want to leave,” I pleaded. “I just came in to have a drink and look around.”

“Well, you’ve had your drink, looked around and now it’s time to suck some cock. Turn your ass around and sit down on that commode.”

She did another tug on my jewels and let go. She turned me around and shoved me backward bahis firmaları onto the toilet seat.

“Well, that’s not bad,” she claimed, while looking where my six inch penis was still hanging out of my pants. “Most of you subbies have little dinky cocks.” She started pulling down her yoga pants and said, “But, its not quite the size of a real dick.”

Under her pants she had something that almost looked like a man’s jock strap which she also pulled down to her knees. I still could not see any evidence of a penis, even though her crotch was right in front of me at eye level. She slightly spread her legs, reached between them and flopped out a whopper of a dick. I noticed it had a good sized piece of medical tape still attached. She pulled the tape off and massaged her prick inches from my face.

She reached down with one hand and cradled her big dick and golf ball sized testicles in front of my face and said, “This is what a real dick looks like.” She smacked it on one side of my cheek then the other and announced, “And that’s what a real dick feels like.”

It was impressive. She had to be about eight inches soft and almost two inches wide at the head. It was a beautiful tool. Perfectly shaved and smooth with one dark vein running up the bottom. It was a pinkish color which turned browner near the perfect mushroom shaped head. There was a single pearl of pre-cum forming at the slit.

“It looks like your cock likes mine,” She commented. I looked down and saw my member was at full attention.

I noticed that her pre-cum had formed into a single large drop at the slit. It was about to fall from the head when my tongue whipped out on its own accord and scooped it up. It was silky smooth and had a slight sweetness.

“Good, boy! Now put your lips around it”

I wanted nothing more. I opened my mouth as wide as I could, covered my teeth with my lips and slid my mouth over her semi-erect penis. It felt as good as it looked. I had never had a cock in my mouth before this moment and it seemed so natural I wondered why I hadn’t.

“Get busy down there,” she ordered. “Start moving your tongue around.”

I had just been savoring the sensation, but now I got to work.

“Pretend you’re massaging my shaft with your tongue.”

I did just that and could taste more of her pre-cum oozing out.

“Lick the slit.”

I worked my tongue around and tried to push it into her hole. I got more sweet pre-cum as a reward.

“That’s nice, Bitch. Now apply some suction.”

I sucked in until I had a firm pressure on her entire rod. At this point I only had the large head and a couple extra inches of her dick in my mouth, but what I had was now nice and stiff.

“Now vary the suction and mix it all up.” She insisted.

I did as she asked and could feel her dick start throbbing and her pre-cum slicken my entire mouth.

“Okay, Sweetie. That was all the easy stuff, just basic Cocksucker 101. Now it gets interesting. Are you going to be a good little subbie for me?”

“Yes, Ma’am, I’ll sure try.”

“Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to shove my dick all the way into your face. And yes, before you complain, I know it won’t all fit in your mouth. You’re going to have to open your throat so I can get it all in.”

“Oh, God,” I thought. “I can’t do this this. I’ve never even had a cock in my mouth before . . . how can I take one down my esophagus.”

“I don’t think I can do that,” I said.

“Oh, yes, you can . . . and you will. Either we take it easy and I help you along or . . . .”

“Or, what?” I asked.

“Or, I just grab ahold of your head and ram my clit down your gullet.”

As much as I had enjoyed our oral intercourse, I knew I wasn’t ready to have her big dick down my virgin throat. It scared me to even think about. Once again I weighed my chances of escaping.

“Okay! If you let me finish my pee, I’ll give it a shot.” I compromised.

I thought that if I could get on my feet, out of this stall, and to the urinal, I might have a chance of fighting my way past her and out the door.

“Sure, Puto, piss right in the toilet you’re sitting on and then we’ll get back to work.”

“Crap,” I thought. “I forgot I was perched on a commode.” I rearranged my penis and managed to deposit a little urine into the bowl. Before I was done shaking it off she grabbed me by the ears and pulled me toward her still swollen member.

“What’s it going to be, Bitch . . . easy or not?”

“Neither one,” I argued and started to get up from the toilet.

I never saw it coming. The blow to my left cheek was so hard that it knocked me halfway off the toilet and my head smacked hard into the stall’s side wall. I had read stories about people seeing stars after a blow, but I was examining the whole Milky Way.

“You done fucking around, Babe?” she asked, “’cause I got a few more where that one came from.”

I was so groggy; I couldn’t even form an answer.

She reached down, grabbed my hair, and yanked my head back. She brought her face down within two inches of mine and growled, “There’s that hearing problem again. I asked you a question, Faggot.”

“Yes,” I murmured. “Yes, I’m done fucking around.”

“Good! Now get my dick back in your mouth,” she ordered.

She painfully pulled on my hair and forced my face toward her crotch. I opened my mouth slightly and she rammed her cock all the way to the back. As she bumped my throat, I gagged, choked and felt I might throw up, but then she pulled back a little.

I looked up at her pleadingly as tears rolled down my cheeks. “Please don’t,” I pleaded.

“Let’s stop and talk for a minute,” she offered and pulled her dick out of my mouth.

“Yes, please,” I croaked.

“What’s your name?” she asked

“Robert . . . Ah, Bob for short,” I responded.

“Well, considering the size of your dick, I’m going to call you Bob for short,” she laughed.

“My name is Ronda and “yes” at one time in my early life it was Ron.”

Hello, Ronda,” I sniffled.

“So, Bob, did you enjoy me making you suck my dick?”

“Yes . . . I liked sucking your dick.” I replied hesitantly.

“I know you did, that was pretty obvious. But not what I asked you. Did you enjoy me forcing you to do that?”

I had to think about that for a few seconds before I replied, “Yeah, I guess I did. I mean I wouldn’t have done it otherwise. You making me do it was a big part of the thrill, I think.”

“Exactly . . . the domination adds an extra level of excitement to the event for both parties. You’re a submissive perabet güvenilir mi and I’m a dominant. It’s like a baseball pitcher and catcher . . . we complement each other. A single sexual act can bring us both great pleasure and satisfy our different psychological needs.”

“What did you know about this bar before you came in?” Ronda asked.

“I work around the corner, so I had heard it was a transsexual bar.”

“Did you hear that those transsexuals were tops? That they were inclined to be dominant?”

“Kind of,” I offered.

“What the fuck does that mean, Bobby?”

“Well, there was a rumor in the building that a guy that works there has . . . . like . . . like a transsexual mistress here.”

“And did you believe that?”

“Kind of.”

“And is that why you came in here tonight?”

“Kind of.”

“Bobby, you say those words once more and I’ll smack you again. Is that the reason you came in?”

“Yes, Ma’am, I guess it was.”

“You know, Bob, there are a whole bunch of people with gender issues and they all handle it different ways. Some occasionally dress up in clothes of the opposite sex. Some live as the opposite sex. Some change their plumbing to become the opposite sex. Additionally, some of these folks are “bottoms” and others are “Tops”. Bottoms are the passive partners in sexual acts and the Tops are the aggressors. Many Tops are also dominant. That means they enjoy being in an authoritarian role and having their partners submit to their orders.”

“This is a big city, Bob, and we have quite a few spots where folks with gender issues gather. This place happens to cater to transsexual dommes. Most of the girls that come here regularly are dominate tops. The guys and girls who visit here are usually looking to be sexually used and abused. They want to be ordered to do things they feel ashamed to do, but love doing. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, I understand what you’re telling me.”

“Here’s the deal, Bob, you’re a subbie . . .

you have a submissive sexual personality. My friends and I knew that as soon as you walked in. You may not fully realize it yet, but that’s why you’re here. You want to be dominated, and you want to be dominated by a transsexual. There are plenty of gay bars in town you could have visited if you leaned that way. However, you wanted the cock you sucked to be attached to a girl. Am I right?”

“Maybe . . . I mean I guess it makes sense.”

“Good, then let me explain one more thing. I am going to shove my dick down your throat. Why? Because that’s what we girls do. It gives us a feeling of power and control. Plus a throat is very similar to, and in some ways better than, a vagina or rectum. It’s smooth, wet, tight and clean. It needs no lubrication or preparation and because it empties into the stomach, it can accommodate huge quantities of cum. It can sometimes be an uncomfortable act for the person on the receiving end, but so can other kinds of intercourse.” Ronda lectured.

“Trust me,” She said, “Every top tranny is going to want to do this, so you better learn now if you want to our boy-bitch. Once you’ve done it a few times it becomes pretty natural.”

I had a hard time imagining that it would become “natural”.

“Okay, Short Bob, the cocksucker, we’re done with the lecture and returning to practical application.”

With that she lifted her now flaccid penis and said “Now it’s time to use your newly acquired oral skills to get me hard again.”

I swallowed her organ and tried to do just that. Within minutes she was rock hard again and banging against the back of my mouth.

“You’re a quick study, Bobby. Now relax your throat and pretend this is something good, like a Popsicle, that you want to swallow.”

She pushed her organ against the entrance, but, once again, I started gagging.

“Okay! This sometimes helps. When I hit that area where the gag reflex kicks in, use your mouth muscles like you’re swallowing something.”

Again she shoved, hit the passageway, and again I started choking. Instead of pulling out, she wrapped her hands around the back of my head and pulled me toward her. Her mushroom tip felt huge against the opening to my gullet. She held a steady pressure on my head until she gave a sharp jerk and I could feel her shaft force its way into my esophagus.

“Oh yeah, Baby, that’s it. Give it a second or two and we’ll do it again.”

My nose was gushing fluid, my eyes were spewing tears, my throat hurt like hell, but I was happy I succeeded. I felt very proud of myself.

“Alright, here we go again,” She said.

She withdrew from my throat, paused a second, then plunged her penis back in further than before.

Much easier . . . no gagging or choking, but it still hurt a little and I figured I’d have a sore throat tomorrow.

“Again,” she announced.

She withdrew once more and then plunged deeper still. This time it seemed well down my windpipe and I felt her balls bang against my chin.

“Okay, good. Now match your breathing to my strokes. Your wind will be cut off when I’m all the way in, so inhale on the out stroke. Understood?”

I couldn’t talk, so I just nodded my head a little.

“Here we go!” She proclaimed and thrust her prong in all the way to the base.

She was slowly stroking in and out while I tried to link up with my breathing. “In hold, out inhale, in hold . . .,” I mentally chanted.

She had her hands locked behind my head holding it in place while she thrust her prick deep into my throat. Her pace was increasing, making it more difficult to grab enough air. Her heavy ball sack was banging against my chin and her stomach painfully compressing my nose. Tears were flowing down my cheeks, snot gushing from my nose and saliva and pre-cum dripping off my face. She was grunting and moaning in sync with her lunges.

I was in another world. I had totally lost track of time, space and situation. I’m sure the alcohol bolstered my impression that I was absorbed in a sensual cocoon. There were only two things in life that currently mattered . . . Ronda’s dick and my throat. It was like a sexual dream and nightmare combined. She was fucking my face with a****listic abandon and I was trying my best to help her along. I was frantically using my tongue, alternating suction and trying to clench and unclench my throat muscles. The heat, fluids, odors and physical contact had me utterly consumed. I was living out my deepest erotic fantasies.

“Oh, you bitch! Get ready, tipobet get ready.”

I wasn’t sure what ‘Get ready’ meant, so I just continued my efforts. I could feel her penis throbbing and pulsating and knew she was getting close to orgasm.

“Oh, God, Oh God, Ooooh God,” she screamed. She released my head and pulled her dick out of my mouth. She grabbing it with one hand and sprayed two copious jets of thick white cum all over my face.

“Oh, yes. Oh, that’s so good,” She continued and quickly shoved her rod back in my mouth. Ronda let go a couple more copious spurts of sperm before she rammed it back down my throat. I could feel her organ still throbbing as she coated my larynx with several more surges of warm semen. Suddenly I realized that she was in my no-breath zone and I had failed to fill my lungs before she impaled me. She made no motion to withdraw and had wrapped her hands around my head again holding me in place. I tried inhaling around her now receding erection with no luck. I started to bring my arms up to try and push her off of me when everything went dark.

When I came back around I heard her yelling, “Don’t pretend you passed out on me you phony faggot, just start swallowing that cum.”

I was still trying to orient myself back into reality, when I heard her shout again, “Swallow my juice, you cocksucker.”

I tried, but with her sizeable dick halfway down my gullet I couldn’t manipulate my tongue and mouth muscles in a swallowing motion.

“Fucking swallow, damn you”, she growled and reached down between my legs. Ronda grabbed my testicles again and squeezed and twisted them. It was so painful I would have screamed if I hadn’t had my mouth full of shemale dick.

I tried again and was able to direct some cum down my throat although quite a bit leaked out the corners of my mouth. I’m sure it joined the mess that was dripping off my face and onto the front of my shirt and tie. Amazingly, I could still feel her shrinking prick pulsating as it emptied a couple diminishing trickles into the mess in my mouth.

“That’s better, but not good enough. You best keep working, Subbie.”

Her penis was now softening and I could exercise my oral muscles better. I kept gulping down her jizz until she eased the pressure on my balls.

“That’s enough,” she said as she pulled her flaccid shaft out of my mouth. “Now it’s time to clean me up so I can get dressed without messing up my yoga pants.”

I knew want she meant and immediately started licking the combination of fluids off the base of her dick and around her balls. This was a strange combination of semen, pre-cum, drool, tears and sweat. A delicious cocktail of body juices, I thought.

“Don’t forget my taint,” she advised and, sure enough, there was a trail of sexual sauce running under her testicles toward her anus. I quickly disposed of that nectar with a couple of long licks.

She pulled up her underwear and pants and told me I better put my dick away. After I did she grabbed me by the hand and started to lead me out of the restroom.

“Wait,” I insisted, “I’ve got to clean up first.” I caught a glance at myself in the sink’s mirror and saw the mess that I’d become. Cum was creeping down my face with several white globs of it stuck in my hair and eyebrows. My lips looked red and swollen. My shirt and tie were a soaked with various fluids. I looked terrible.

“C’mon,” she ordered and pulled my hand.

“I can’t go out there like this,” I argued. “I look like shit.”

“You can and you will,” she threatened as she yanked my arm.

“You’re going to win me a bet,” she confided and painfully squeezed my hand. She unlocked and pulled open the bathroom door. As she led me around the corner to the bar area I noticed a guy sitting at the end of the bar with his back to the restroom.

We walked a little further and Ronda stopped beside the man at the bar. “Sorry, George,” she announced, “we won’t be partying tonight.”

The guy turned toward me and I immediately recognized him as a fellow who worked in my building on the third floor. I had ridden up with him on the elevator several times on my way to floor six. I saw him look at the mess on my face and had never felt more humiliated.

“Ronda, please,” George whined, “I really need some . . . Ah . . .,” he glanced at me, “. . . company tonight.”

“Get lost, Fuckface. Come back again next Tuesday, maybe you’ll get lucky.” Ronda snarled. Then it dawned on me that George must be the guy who had the rumored relationship with a transsexual mistress here. I also figured that Ronda was probably that mistress.

Ronda jerked my arm again and in a couple steps I was standing in front of the booth of girls. I gazed around the table and thought they all looked like beautiful women . . . two brunettes, and a blond haired black girl.

“Well, what do you think?” She said as she took ahold of my head and turned it in various directions. “Is this a winner or not?”

The shorter brunette called out, “”Wait, wait! Let me get my cell phone out and get a picture of this.”

As Ronda displayed me a blob of liquefying cum decided to drop off my chin and splattered on the floor.

“Got that one on my phone,” the photographer called out.

“Have him lick that up,” the black girl said.

“Oh, Yuck!” the taller brunette exclaimed, “That’s too gross even for me.”

“I agree,” the other shorter brunette chimed in. “I concede the bet. Let him go wash off or he’ll mess up the whole place.”

“Does everyone concede?” Ronda asked and they all nodded and started fishing in their bags.

“Go!” Ronda told me, pointing toward the restroom.

I was walking away when I heard Ronda tell the others “He’s a keeper . . . a genuine subbie and a fast learner.”

“Ooh, that sounds like fun. Is he a virgin?” I heard the black girl ask just as I entered the bathroom.

I cleaned up as best I could and returned to the bar. I noticed that “George” was gone and the girls were now standing up by the booth.

Ronda was putting some money in her purse. I thought once again how beautiful they all were.

Ronda took hold of my hand and said, “C’mon Bob, you’re going home with us. We’re going to have a little party.”

“Well, that sounds like fun, but I’d have to leave early. I’ve got to be at work tomorrow,” I told her.

“Here’s what you do, Bobby. Use your cell phone tonight. Call your boss and leave him a message that you have the flu and won’t be in tomorrow,” Ronda told me.

“Couldn’t I just call in the morning?” I asked.

“You could, but you may not be in any shape to do that, Sweetie,” She answered and started leading me toward the door.

“By the way, Honey, are you an anal virgin?” Ronda asked. Yes

Well that’s about to change sweetie!

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32