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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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My nerves were frayed. It took a lot of resolve to remain on the train and not disembark at the penultimate stop before Bank. I could've swapped platforms and returned to my comfortable, quiet apartment, a bottle of cold beer, a shower to wash away the nervous odour and begin a long porn session dedicated to the fantasy I was on my way to realise: a date with a beautiful transsexual.
I remained on the train. I distracted myself by reading the adverts above the red handrail where only a few people were steadying themselves as the London Underground train completed its bullish passage. Ava was always at the periphery of my mind, and when we stopped in Bank, she burst to the forefront: brunette, blue-eyed, big-boobed Ava, my black dress-clad seductress.
As soon as the cool air of Autumnal England received me, I knew I would make it to her apartment. I followed the directions she'd given me. I paused outside her building, peering around to see if I recognised anyone -- it was the London metropolis in the wake of the rush hour, so I was obviously insignificant and unnoticed. I took a deep breath and with a trembling hand buzzed her apartment, 4A.
"Hello." I'd never heard her speak before. Her voice was soft and light, placed a register above where it normally resided.
"It's Jack."
"Come on up."
I was actually doing it: I was getting into an elevator to meet a transvestite I'd met on a dating app. We'd swapped photographs. I'd offered her one face picture and an array of the finest penis photography I'd done, all clever angles and dramatic lighting; she'd offered me photographs of her curvy figure inside a classic black dress, one of her big ass and wide hips sticking in the air and two selfies where she'd made herself up and styled her hair. Needless to say, I'd pounded my penis over all of them, swiping between them in a frenzy of masturbatory lust. The picture that I liked to explode over was a selfie she'd taken in her bathroom mirror, her bathrobe fallen coquettishly from her left shoulder, as she looked at her own picture on her screen. The sly and sultry smile on her face would bring me to an orgasmic rush
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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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As per my request, she was wearing the black cocktail dress from the photographs. Strapless, shape-holding, stopping just below the knee. She jumped behind the door so I only saw a glimpse of her before I entered the apartment. As soon as I did see her, I shook my head at my own good fortune and at my previous anxious self who'd sat trembling on the well-worn seat on the Underground. Now I was here, a winning lottery ticket wouldn't have had the power to the lure me away.
She led me into the living room and I greedily eyed her full, womanly ass. Her tits were smaller than I expected, but they were still there and larger than a lot of the girls I'd been chatting with. Most importantly for me, she was gorgeous, exceedingly feminine, even down to her slightest movements. She'd painted her toe and fingernails blood red, and she'd taken great care with her makeup. A crimson lipstick, that left a trace on my lips when we kissed, was the perfect cheery on the proverbial cake. She had strong facial features and a honey-coloured skin tone owing to her Greek heritage. As we kissed, I felt her heart thudding along as fast as mine. Understanding how nervous she was, helped me to relax.
Holding the tips of my fingers, Ava led me into her living room. She was cultured and well-travelled: heavy literature and ornaments were spread ubiquitously about the room. She'd lit candles and an incense stick. I spied an open bottle of Shiraz and a wine glass with the faint tattoo of her lipstick on the rim. She fiddled with the hem of her dress and brushed loose strands of her long black hair behind her ear: the wine must've been to temper her jangling nerves before I arrived.
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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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Thanks for coming," she said. "I've been looking forward to this."
"Me too! Nothing could've kept me away," I replied, attempting to sound confident, nonchalant. "You look amazing."
"Thank you. You're not so bad yourself."
"Nice apartment."
"Thanks."
"Have you met anyone before, you know, like this?"
"No. I'm quite nervous. Do I look OK?"
"You look phenomenal."
This was the extent of the pleasantries. During this thirty seconds of conversation, we'd been stroking one another's forearms and edging closer on the leather couch. We kissed. I felt the warm pall of the wine of her breath and tasted it on her tongue. My cock sprang into attention as soon as she probed her tongue into my mouth while her large lips massaged mine.
"God, you're unbelievable," I said.
She giggled. "Would you like a massage?"
She led me into the bedroom where more candles were burning, illuminating the room, bottles of massage oil and a bottle of lubricant. "Strip down and lay on the bed."
I obliged. I took my clothes off and lay on the bed while she went to the bathroom. When she returned, she appraised my body and smiled when she saw my swollen member resting against my thigh. "Very nice," she cooed. We kissed again as she fondly my cock lightly. I lay down and she rested on top of me. I grabbed onto her wide, supple ass and pulled her onto me. The bulge I felt pressing against my hip was impressive. I would have to wait to see it because she told me to go onto my back.
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