In The Land of Red Lights

by Solon Plorry

 

'The Apple of Her Eye' part 1

 

How fast can a girl run in high heels? Not very fast, as she discovered before twenty feet! She kicked off the heels while bouncing along first on one foot, then another, frantically shaking the problems free, then sprinting along in stockinged feet. She was twenty-three, and was blessed with powerful calves, which quickly got her up to speed. She threw away her purse, which was empty. With arms swinging, she hurried down the darkened street away from 'his' enraged pursuer.

Junior had tried everything to get money. His grandmother was sick, dying of a horrible illness that required large quantities of expensive medications to treat, and poor granny hadn't a pot to piss in. So Junior had to come up with something, being a dutiful grandchile. Working was no good anymore. The only work Junior was skilled in was dishwashing, and the wages were too meager for the demands of granny's medical problem. That left the gray area between wickedness and evil. Junior tried stealing, making off with a few worthless items before giving it up. Even thieving required some skill, and Junior angrily renounced himself for lacking even these! That left the evil of whoring, which Junior reflected was not as easy as it sounded, looking over her shoulder at the chubby businessman who had gasped to a stop, the pursuit given up. Junior stuck her tongue out at the guy, but the night's shade thankfully prevented the exhausted client from seeing his date's final insult. To lose a pile of money is bad enough, to have the thief stick 'her' tongue out at you was salting the wound!

Junior slowed down to a brisk walk, mincing slightly as stockinged feet stepped on pebbles, nicks of this and that and sundry. Carefully she avoided identified horrors, spit, broken glass and discarded foodstuffs. It was inevitable that she stepped in a pile of feces, while avoiding stepping on a crack in the sidewalk! The squishy mess probably was the worst disaster that Junior had ever experienced, and she gasped in gagging horror when the state of affairs became clear. A gassy stink rose to Junior's nose, disgusting her even more. Appalled, she tried to scrape her foot free of the crap, but only spread it around. Holding a delicate nose, the blonde slipped into an alley. Reaching up under his dress, Junior pulled down the nylon, carefully guiding the top hem down, lifting her leg so she could work it past and off her foot, all while balancing precariously on the other. A few feet away, a derelict lying in shadow watched through a scruffy beard, and calcified nerves stirred, or tried to stir deep within the old rapist's groin! Visions of the last softspot he'd enjoyed carnally flitted tantalizingly in his mind, but the old ogre knew his time was long ago. Nevertheless he enjoyed the show. She hopped around, maintaining enough balance to get the stinking nylon off far enough that she was able to stand normally and wrench it off by stepping on the loose end and lifting her other foot. Finally freed, she patted down her dress, looking at the bumsted with pretty scorn unaffected by awareness of the fact that had the derelict been a few years younger…! And Junior Miss went home with the dispatch of someone eager to have a bath.

***

Later, luxuriating in a bubble bath and working soap between painted toes, Junior Miss reflected on his night's work. He had dressed in a powder blue outfit that gave her a busy executive career girl air, which generally went well with the business type clientele she thought she was interested in serving. It was a tricky game though; Junior Miss had a bigger then average cock (Mr Wilson said) and a heavy pair of underhanging balls. The clients had no idea Junior was a very feminine guy, thinking her a mannish young lady, and many of them would get very angry if they found that out! Usually, the faux miss got away with the shenanigans by means of a busy mouth and able hands, getting 'her' customers very excited and bringing them to a satisfying climax, as only someone who had learned what was required from long experience at the hands of experts. Junior was a sissy with a very sensitive high-strung nature, but his bedtime friends brought him to such intense orgasms she routinely was knocked right out! Even crudely applied, as he did, these skills prevented her from having to reveal to his partners the truth of her genre. As Miss raised a smooth arm out of the soap, lifting a small mountain of suds 'til it rolled over and tumbled back accompanied by playful noises of what he thought a crashing down mountain sounded like, she idly remembered how the guy's wallet fell out, and how he caught Junior trying to stick it empty back into his pocket! Then rolling away and out the car while the man grabbed at him, yelling 'you little slut, thieving bitch!' fleeing with youthful vigour as 'her' erstwhile lover ponderously exited the vehicle, went around the front and began a pursuit. The rip off netted a measly eighty five dollars more, and Junior closed his eyes, her conscience nipping at complacency. He wished she had just done what she had contracted to do; the extra dollars not worth the shabby feeling the affair left her with.

But getting vacuumed by a stranger was never Junior's idea of propriety. Too taxing on her manhood, if required too often. Junior had graduated from high school, better late then never, and had unfortunately liked the first job society offered him. That was as an inventory 'comptroller' for Wilson's Fine Foods, a local supermarket which was only ten minute on roller skates from the house Junior shared with his granny, a bearded old woman who bragged that 'she never killed anybody….hmm!' and Emsted, her butler cum nurse. Junior's mom and dad, both of whom left home for the orient inexplicably, when Junior was fifteen, followed shortly thereafter by Junior's Aunt Willowby, then by his two sisters, Dart and Cubicah, and that left Junior Miss as the man of the Sarret house.

 

Junior had been perplexed by the sudden departures, though granny explained that Junior's parents apparently needed away time. Aunt Willowby, who had been involved in several shouting matches with granny (annoying Emsted mightily) in the immediate wake of the departures, lived in the treehouse behind the Sarret house, in an ancient oak tree. Sometimes now Junior retired to the treehouse, which had electricity and running water, after it became empty. Aunt Willowby had suddenly gone away one day, leaving a long letter that granny showed to the kids. Cubicah, who was two years older then Dante, Junior's regular name, got in trouble too complicated to go into here, before she ran away one long weekend. Dart hung around for a few months, before she in her turn took off, apparently with a boy, granny told him. That was strange, because Hilda and Fender, Dante's parents, raised the two girls as boys! Dart actually had looked a lot more masculine then Dante (Junior), what with her short hair and stevedore arms. Granny, who was old for as long as Junior could remember, nearly went nuts waving around Dart's letter! Emsted of course raged silently in the doorway. Imagine, leaving the poor old lady with all the responsibility for the scion of the Sarret family! Thankfully, granny's madness never enveloped Junior…indeed he was the apple of her eye!

 

Junior finished her bath, and dressed warmly in her bikini undersilks, and with one of daddy's old tee shirts, he strolled in her moccasins downstairs to the kitchen for a snack. In the living room, the tweek tweek tweek of granny's rocking chair summoned the youth for hugs and a report. The bills were mounting up, and Junior wanted to rent out the treehouse, but granny preferred that it be left empty, and someplace away for Junior to take the girlfriends. And she didn't like any strangers nosing around, besides them reasons. Emsted was on watch, as usual. Junior took his snack into the living room. Granny watched her as Junior set the snack on the table beside her chair, and pulled up another for himself….the youth leaned over and kissed the weathered crone, whose wispy mustache and beards set off her toothless visage.

"Gran" he murmured… "here's some money..ah, a nice gentleman was, ah, nice to us". She chuckled at the fiction; she knew damn well where the cash came from, that her grandson tricked….she after all had arranged one of Junior's first trysts, not to mention his 'job' but being a granny, and widow of Dr. Paisley Sarret, who had been a most reverend also according to family legend, and thus righteous, granny had to keep up appearances. That wasn't that hard, as the old lady was renown for her thespian skills. "An how are you feeling, Gran, lowly or out of sorts?" he inquired gently. Gran looked pained, taking Junior's hand, "Well, I's aint skipping!" she lied boldly, rolling her eyes up more in the expertise of Lana Turner the actress then any judgement of the child naiveté… "Mr Wilson had no call to fire you, sweet thing!" she changed the subject as Junior sat and ate the wedge of pie. "Now Gran, no use rehashing that…we're lucky we're…' Junior saw his granny's stern look as he wrestled with the pie, and hesitating, rephrased the comeback… 'I'm not in the jail, you know darn true that" The old lady shook her head. It had been her idea to pad the orders, then sell the meats, produce and fresh vegetables to the chinaman from downtown. The scam had worked well, until Junior was forced to increase the order so much that the truckers were talking about it. It took Mr Wilson some fine maneuvering to get rid of Junior, as he lived in dread of Milly Sarret (and Emsted!). The bottomline was the young man lost the job she'd enjoyed for three years. Milly Sarret rocked complacently; the Wilson affair needed thinking about before she made any moves, that was all. To granny, the world was a 'turkey in need of carving!' and she could carve, darn yes she could! Doctors could learn plenty from her!

 

After the clock struck eleven, granny looked at Junior, who was listening to her Walkman, dancing silently around in the middle of the room with eyes closed, and waited. It didn't take long. The crone's eyes settled on the youth for only seconds before he knew it, and wiggling her taut young ass, Junior sashayed to the back room to turn the outside light on. Then she merrily returned, stopping when a particularly good musical lick caught attention, and sent her dancing a bit. Eventually, by degrees, the slender creature approached his granny, who watched her offspring appreciatively. Soon it would be time for bed. A door noise suggested Emsted was in the house, and Junior kissed his loving granny goodnight with tenderness love before she scooted out of the living room up the stairs and to her room to get ready.

Junior dressed for success. She stripped naked, looking at himself in the floor length, and decided on a red wig, feeling a fiery heat that the red hair would communicate to suitors. Sometimes Junior thought about going out as a manette, jeans and oversize lumberjack shirt, to troll for a sissy down on 16^th. Tonight, he'd dress as a single mom, the red hair backed by cheap necklace, broken timex and torn stockings… and she'd go for the sort of client found at the Tavern Wellcome rather then the salesmen in the hotel district. With the wig in place and looking fine on his head, she quickly threw on the spaghetti dress after fitting a garter belt and an augmented bra, his small teenagerish titties needing some augmentation. She took matching hose from the drawer, and put them on over her pretty feet: they felt exquisite. Junior rarely shaved her legs. If a client got that far, he'd hardly see the downy body hair that Junior had, as a surprise…indeed most clients preferred their misses a little hairy, being that sort! Before she snapped on the garters, Junior slipped into a pair of SilkySweet panties, positioning her manhood down as much as possible. Lastly, the kid stood up, letting the dress fall into place. With a brown cord jacket to keep him warm, and her hair swept back and barretted, Junior Miss was ready.

 

***

After she left, granny consulted with Emsted on what to do. The derelict had followed Junior Miss to the house, which was set back from the street, and nearly lost amid the elms and oaks. Indeed the house had no lawn, granny (and both Hilda and Fender before) preferred wild growth. It gave the property an abandoned air, behind the barred fence, and thick undergrowth grew back for thirty feet on both sides of the front path. Most traffic in and out was off the side street, where a hooked gate let into the tree canopied walk leading to back of the house. Lush Juniper shrubs had gone wild in back too, and the atmosphere at night was right out of gothic romantic…with granny's reputation as the Lady Hardbrook of her day supplementing all that. The derelict didn't know this, of course, having ridden a straightback eighteen wheeler into town a couple days before, ensconced between the strapped cargo on their pallets, and under cover of the canvass tarps. Emsted had smelled the bumsted from his rocker chair, in the shadow of the tree beneath the treehouse, where he waited with infinite patience for Junior's mom and dad to return. Emsted had taken the rapist into custody, his silent rage at the intruder transformed into grim action. Now he signaled to granny the location of the trussed and helpless man, too old in physical terms to actually rape anyone, but not in sordid spirit to mentally envision it! The poor fool could only groan at the fates.

 

Junior went into Tavern Wellcome, and the smoke of cigarettes and ale, whisky and sweat welcomed him. Loud whiny country musak made the cheapest emotion of the drinkers and hustlers valid, and that was good. Junior looked good too, her brown corduroy jacket telegraphing her lack of pretensions and a casually innocent vulnerability. Granny had taught the boy everything she knew about…..dating perfect strangers, and it wasn't long before Junior was invited to a variety of tables, some crowded with partiers and others not crowded at all. Miss flirted lightly, setting at this table and that a bit while checking out the nightlife, just cruising. Several of the houndogs interested her; her standards were not very high this eve. One guy however, caught her eye. He was thirtyish, and unlike many in the place, he expected and grasped at nothing. But the dude looked at Junior, and for a moment Junior locked eyes…the gentleman calmly watched as Junior looked away and laughed at someone's joke, slapping a busy hand that somehow got lost and found itself under Junior's dress. The game of 'fucking' was on, and Junior Miss was armed to the tilt.

 

Back at the big house, granny held on Emsted while he took her out to the toolshed, where a few chickens and rabbits kept house. The bum was laying outside, the night being fairly warm, in the dark of the bushes, trussed up like a rodeo steer. Granny slid off Emsted's broad back, and with the help of her cane, neared the derelict, whose eyes were wide blue at his predicament. Granny looked at the derelict while Emsted's torchlight revealed what little there was to see. Normally, granny would have pummeled the intruder with her cane a few whacks before giving orders to Emsted as to how to get rid of him, but despite the duct tape and dark and the man's face half buried in leaves and twigs, granny caught her breath, then leaning in to examine her prisoner closer. She shook her head, stood back to leave, then looked at the bum, whose name was Pibbs, again with greater effort. She sent Emsted to fetch her specs…..her sight not as strong as her determination, but the man gave off more then the odors of someone unwashed weeks on end. Granny detected the presence of Ansel Pibbs before she actually saw it was him. She was an unusual old gal in any circumstance!

2750words end part 1

 

 

Part 2 Pretty, Pleased

 

Kent watched the young hussy and nodded sagely. She'll do he told himself. He watched as the hussy spread herself around, and Kent felt the spark whenever she made eye contact with him, which happened more as the night grew long. Kent had come to the Wellcome Tavern because he was due…..due for a nice reward for a job well done. Back in the valley, his wife and three pups probably were snug as bugs in bed by now, and Kent enjoyed knowing that. He had come into town with several consignments of Grade B, and he had gotten rid of them at better then the market value quoted in the paper. Consequently, he had made a nice profit, both on his stock, and a nice commission on the rest, which circumstance had trusted him to sell. A good year would do wonders for the farmers in the valley; though not all had faith enough in Kent to let him represent them; they were still at the mercy of the market as a result…and Kent knew the quotes had shrunk in value by closing time! He was very pleased with himself, though it had only been dumb luck, but Kent had heard that luck went flying by only when the lucky wore catching mitts! No two ways about it, he told his self, he deserves some of that big city hussy girl!

 

Back at the Sarret house, Pibbs faced the last person on earth he expected to see. "Millicent, my my, dearie, it's a pleas…' he was saying before Emsted hushed him by boxing his ears. Pibbs would have howled had not the nearness of Emsted and granny's bemused glare precluded making noise or attracting too much attention to himself (which howling might have done). Pibbs had gotten out of the penitentiary several weeks before, and had drifted inexorably to this place it seemed. By rights he should have done the airdance long ago, but Pibbs was a testament to the effectiveness of sycophancy, brown nosing and ass kissing, which were a rapist's only tools in a place like prison, where 'rapos' usually suffered their own medicine, though often administered using mop handles! Pibbs could only wonder after surviving that what combination of bad karma had him brought to a place where even his expert suckholing would probably just delay the inevitable! With a well practiced whine, he faced his future.

***

Kent brushed off the seat he had readied for the youthful wench. Junior Miss, the 'wench' watched him flick a handkerchief over the seat, as if that improved matters. Junior settled himself into the chair while Kent signaled a waiter for a couple 'brewskis' he called them. With the crowd starting to settle down as the hours passed, the hunters and hunted paired off. Of all potential dates in the tavern, Kent stood out as the best bet for profit while not straining the girl's toleration limits. Kent wasn't drunk, though fairly tipsy, and he was in a good mood. He'd also showered and was dressed for 'going to town' unlike some of the men, who hurried to the tavern from work for a couple cold ones before going home to get cleaned up…. and who hadn't yet done that! All told, the farmer dude struck Junior Miss as his late evening's most likely meal ticket.

Small talk requires skills few have in abundance, and neither Junior nor Kent were talkative sorts. After their beer arrived, and Kent rewarded the waiter, they circled around the issue that had united them at the table, warily in the girl's case and boldly in Kent's. He mentioned the day's successes, and gave the younger man a quick tour of the world of farm feedlots, auctions lot quality, lading cost per mile and such things that were of utmost important to him, though only faintly interesting to Miss. The pleasure Kent took in his work made the chat easy, and Junior gleaned several important details from the talks. Mainly, Kent had money to spend, and no one to spend it on unless…. unless 'she' was interested. Kent was fairly stout, as is normal among hard working guys with ample appetites matched to country home cooking. He drove a 'halfer', or a club cab ford, which was the Rolls of valley folk, and he had a couple days before the paperwork would let him go; this Kent explained was a choice he could make, if the companionship was becoming, as he could have the papers fed ex'ed otherwise…. the door was open! Junior thus took the bullshit by the horns, mentioning a figure that needed to be haggled down, but surprisingly the big goofus bit, and Miss had her granny's next meal ticket!

***

Pibbs marveled at his own panache. Despite the harshness that typified his relationship with Sarret, he was seated on a milk crate in one of the rooms of the treehouse, the one that was up a ramp and enveloped by the jungle-like flora of the ancient oak, and some nearby elms. The room was tilted noticeably, and bereft of furniture. Emsted had brought granny and him to the room; the crone on his back and Pibbs being hauled up along the stepway by his beard. Pibbs was too jaded by heartlessness to be afraid, although he expected the little journey to end suddenly, and awfully. But by dint of his sniveling and protesting cowardice, and his motormouth, he must have said something that stopped granny before Emsted did his damndest. Pibbs had ended up in the room with a TopMart bag over his head, still trussed but seated, while whispery consultations occurred between granny and the monster. Sweating and breathing his own air, Pibbs savoured living while the plot was thickened out of his sight and mind. Millicent had soon returned; the sounds in the room of scraping and murmurs from Milly Sarret while Emsted put her in a chair. Pibbs knew Milly was there, and any normal human would have trembled, with the old lady feet away and staring unblinking at him! Pibbs had known some bad actors in his years of depraved living, but Milly Sarret was diva of any stage her hand had set!

 

On a lighter note, miles away but worlds apart, farmer Kent led his squeeze to the motel door. The rent was mighty high, to Kent's usual custom of thrift in habit permitting greed on occasion, which lesson Kent had learned from his forbears, who put being cheap on a pedestal, next to godliness cleanliness sobriety and…. boredom, or something like that. Kent had planned to sleep in his cubcab when he first came 'town,' but the windfall! Kent wasn't a womanizer, and home he was looked upon as solid as all get out, but appearances are sometimes deceiving. The windfall occurred as if guided by an elf's hand, with the result that the bid on eighteen thousand bales was 'understood' which was auction feedlot speak for automatically higher on delivery to the railhead…. where Kent had had the harvest delivered from the start! The difference was a twenty thousand dollar cheque no one knew about, in effect a gratuity for doing business with some operator who needed the fresh cut clover hay right away, please! And the storage price was deferred, giving Kent two hundred thousand square feet locked up before the second cut was even started! Kent had stumbled into it, and it was impossible not to celebrate!

 

Junior Miss checked out the suite. It wasn't as shabby as the preliminaries had suggested probable, as characters like Kent were fairly common, being the salt of the earth and known tightwads. With the dress, long hair and her effeminate manner, Junior assumed that Kent knew what she was. Furthermore, the Wellcome was well known as a transy pickup joint. More then a few obvious males who were dressed up like ladies had been in evidence from the minute Kent had entered, and it was unlikely that Kent hadn't noticed them. One girl, who had a five o'clock shadow, looked as if she had just awakened from an all nighter, and Kent had joked that he 'wouldn't wanna drink that'uns bathwater!' Junior had used her maleness as an excuse for the hefty price tag she'd put on her charms, explaining that 'Us girls haven't got the' stamina for more then three or at most four dates a night, thus the expense. Kent had nodded pleasantly at everything she said, and as Junior looked about, Kent went extra lengths to make the transvestite feel comfortable.

 

Back at the ranch, Kent's wife and kids slept. At the Sarret treehouse, on the other hand, sleeping was the last item on the agenda. Granny was sipping tea, laced with 'skip' or bennies, which both the old lady and her 'Lurch' liked, late at night with the scalding hot tea that Emsted brewed up and served in their special pot. Though both were over eighty, Emsted appeared the better preserved, and it was granny who was responsible. She had first operated on Emsted when they were whippersnappers, which was more then sixty years earlier. Emsted had done the honours himself a few times, but the mug was just a little too clumsy for the type of operations granny needed. That had been evident after she had talked Emsted through the first operation, simple though it had been. Granny wasn't one to give up though, as she felt she had plenty of living still to do. In fact, the old crone mused as she and Emsted sipped their tea and looked down at Pibbs, who appeared to have pissed himself, maybe just to annoy them; in fact she allowed as to how her life was really just beginning!

"You brought It up?" granny said to Emsted, mainly to reassure herself. Emsted held the tiny teacup in his large gnarled hands, a slip of pink china in the midst of the blackness, and he glanced at the doctor (as he often thought of Milly). The momentary glance communicated more then words; indeed 'it' was now chained to the cable that was strung from the treehouse oak to an eave riser near the front end of the house. It could patrol back and forth, silent except for the sound of sheathed paws disturbing the undergrowth. It was a dog, or had been once, before they had fixed It up for hunting. Junior hated the thing, and It was indifferent to the pretty boy; but It wouldn't dare touch him, that was sure! Still, the chain kept It away from the front door, which Junior (and the two girls earlier) always used after granny's bedtime; lest Emsted wasn't on watch. A letter telling the family that Hilda and Fender were still alive had arrived with news that they were thinking of visiting, and thus It had been taken out of its 'coon' (cocoon) deep within the tunnel passages that could be accessed from the cellars. Hilda's young'uns had all been integral to the household until they got old enough to wander around by themselves, and maybe stumble on things that were best let be. An ordinary guard dog should have done the trick, and indeed did do the trick, but it was difficult to stop old granny; who was always thinking of improvements! 'It' was just one of granny's improvements!

End of part 2 1900wds

 

 

Part 3 Sex for Money …

 

Kent stripped Miss with awkward hands and with numerous 'sorry Danty's!' (as he misinterpreted Junior's name). Dante smiled, standing pensive and warm before his trick. A thousand dollars were folded into Miss's handbag, and even with the soothing noises of seduction and sex present, Junior kept the bag clutched tightly in hand. Kent removed her dress, lifting it up while Junior raised his hands; when the dress was off Miss looked at Kent with a face familiar to all, a bit breathless and achingly beautiful with sexpectation. Most transvestites truly enjoy sex, and while whoring has unpleasant connotations, it is the world's first oldest profession!

Even as he stood in the bra, garters and nylons before the yokel, Miss still wasn't sure that the guy KNEW. There was a thickness about the country man, which Junior wasn't use to, grubby and sordid facts being the hallmarks of earning money this way. At any rate, Miss felt quite horny, the paid money pushed worry away, which left the t-girl free to get into being worshipped and pandered to pleasured! Tendrils of excitement were liquid gold shooting about where her legs and belly and ass met, and the boy within her stirred.

Kent felt thrill. Conquest, even if done by hard earned cash, is the spice of life, and Kent savoured knowing the cash wasn't hard earned at all! The more time he spent with Danty the more he enjoyed her, the more he wanted to be with her. Deep within his consciousness, alarm bells were ringing, and Kent had been aware of them, but ignored them. The moral code Kent lived by was strict as hell, because of precisely the situation the decent family man was blundering into. He was falling into love! Bad enough that Danty was a pickup from a cheap dive. There was more to the kid then met Kent's eye, yessirree!

He unsnapped the bra, then unfolded it from Miss, standing up close behind her to do so. Junior looked at him over her shoulder, the large lashes over the wide grey eyes infinitely mysterious to a simple man, Kent kissed the boy, running his hands over Miss's front, enjoying the perky and naked breasts, touching rubbery nipples and causing Junior to gasp, grinding her back into Kent. Kent settled back down on the bed, wanting to see Danty naked, naked as the day she was born, naked as her mama saw her, naked as she would be in her privacy! Kent's excitement built, but out of sight, with Danty the focus of all attention. 'Danty' stood trembling before her date, the purse forgotten and dropped away. She had kicked her flats off earlier, and waited for her due.

Mechanically, Kent unsnapped the garters, while Miss attended to the belt hooks. It slipped off, and was discarded with a hurry. Now Kent grasped the top hem of Junior's panties, the bulging cock that was barely contained within poking up, and as Kent peeled them down, the head of Danty's cock appeared, pink and sticky with kid juices. Kent saw the golf ball sized head, and smelled the raw scent the young give off, but he just shook his head, pulling the SilkySweets down over the swell of the girl's buttocks, plus the mysterious erection like thing saluting him boldly in the front! Kent stopped and stared at it, and at the sacful of family jewels hung like shiny globes underneath. The starkness of malehood was unbelievable, as Kent knew Danty was a gal, but the contrary proof had an undeniable animal rudeness, which suited the mood in the room. Kent couldn't explain the girl's masculine features, beyond murmuring "hmm, that's unusual…you're like a boy…" but sotto voce. Junior watched her date, and detected genuine surprise in the way he drew back. Like many t-girl whores, Miss knew the exposure of man parts could confront some customers, first timers for sure, but even old hands, if they detected danger, and in a flash a lovemaking session could become frightful nightmare.

Without giving Kent time to reflect, Miss pushed her hardon to his face, and Kent looked up at her. Danty's jaw was set, teeth clenched and eyes bright as he looked directly at her man…she was a vision almost unnaturally pretty, and Kent's heart leaped. "Darn honey you are ….to eat you!" he gasped, hugging the cutey to him, feeling her firm ass. She smoldered with growing lust, and her dick ran with youthful eager threads of seed as she pressed against him telling Kent to 'suck it, guy, suck me!' insisting with her boy selfishness and throaty girl voice. Kent took the quivering dink in hand, feeling the strange and terrible heat within the rock hardness. He was stunned, as the penis felt like a penis! Kent looked at Junior's determined face; except for the navy blue nylons, which were snug to her thighs, he was bare naked, just like Kent wanted. The cock pulsed with its want to couple, and Kent pressed it to his face. She was an unusual girl he told himself again; why 'she built different then most!' he marveled. Holding the shaft, he looked at the head, at the wide slit which oozed a steady stream of semen. Kent smelled it, the faint musty smell mixed with sweat and perfume, too wonderful for small appreciation. The exotic overwhelmed Kent, who was just enough of a rebel to feel totally alive, but not so much that he would take the final step and admit this…. 'darn it' were his words of surrender, and he licked Miss's seed from her cockhead.

Junior jumped. He knew that Kent had never sucked off a girl before, and the knowledge was like power. Sex is an adventure anytime, but homo sex can be intoxicating, which maybe why the activity continues to occur despite social disapproval and often brutal punishment. For men of Kent's caliber, even the proposition rarely gets mentioned, outside of crude joking and vicious references, so Kent's obtuseness is understandable. The taste of the hot cum, fresh from Junior Miss's balls, was delicious, although Kent was letting go and turning away from the shouts of his conscience, he never noted its goodness, just knew of it. He then took a man into his mouth for the first time, and savoured the sensation. Wow! The seed bubbled steadily out of Junior, hot and with a special taste, not unlike a woman in her heat, but tart, with a near salty edge. It was the most intensely private thing he'd ever tasted, and a violation of rules! Danty held Kent's head with both her hands, as she fed him her tool, thrusting it into Kent's mouth. The girl was young enough that every coupling she experienced was a standout, filled with some new aspects that made her totally alert too, but without the spice of sinfulness which so affected Kent. Kent wasn't too good at sucking a cock, especially a young tender shoot like Junior's, and several times his teeth grated her shaft, even while his tongue bathed it, returning to the headslit, sending jolts of pure pleasure to her nerve center, but hinting at hurt.

It was taxing to the youth's trembling legs, and the edgy feel of teeth cooled her frantic desire enough; so exhausted, she squatted down in front of her man, and without ado Miss threw her arms around his neck, kissing Kent on the mouth. Her mouth was sweet, hot and wet, and her little tongue sought him out. Kent kissed the wench, and the lovemaking session kicked up to another level, without either thinking about it. They snuggled, the gasps of their breathing and anxious squirming no longer polite, but animalistic. Kent had ventured a long ways from 'heckfire and darn-nation' (the valley term) and he was hot with anticipation of more transgression! Standing, the older man lifted the younger, and set the staring Miss onto the bed. Junior crawled up towards the pillows, her face flushed with excitement. Kent joined her; her body first prize in their game. He caught a flash of sweet ass, firm and round. Kent had always loved that part of the wife, but as their marriage matured, she gained the confidence to deny him toying with it. Now here was a butt even more enticing, because of no law remained, making Kent dizzy. The two looked at each other, wanting more!

Kent manhandled the other, deciding to get right to it. When Junior was stretched out belly down on the bed, Kent went for the rounded butt, laying his head on Miss's legs, and lightly running his fingers over pale cheeks. The cleave tempted him, but to buildup the interest, he only skipped over it, indulging in self-denial. Strangely, Junior felt it was too much, his butt was truly private, and blushing, she waved her hand back there, to push his away if he went to where Miss suspected he wanted! Every fuck session in history, if detailed out on paper, could fill a volume, as that is how involved are the emotions and passions two people bring to a bed. But like Kent and his baggage of subconscious awareness of sin, Miss had baggage too, rather common among transvestites and shemales, involving their buttocks! This was a certain shyness, most noticed among younger inexperienced t-girls, of having strangers, other men, toy with that specific body part, as that is where his truly private functions are performed, and naturally it is part of if not their main charm! Junior Miss felt this a lot, at least partly because she hadn't been messed with there that much. Of course, this didn't affect Kent, as he'd paid.

Junior tried to roll over, to get serviced, but her customer had a different idea. Kent began licking along her asscrack, oddly comforted by unalloyed femininism of her butt. He buried his face in Junior's cleavage. Junior gasped, her face burning bright red. That was too much, and she tried to push Kent enough to turn over, to get down to business. But Kent wouldn't be denied. The ladylike butt was round and firm and very pretty. Kent spread the cheeks, exposing Miss to some real teasing. Miss struggled, gasping and feeling very embarrassed by Kent's actions. Something like male racial pride awakened to shame her! She tried again to roll over but the larger dominant male prevented her wishes. Kent looked up at her, and could see her embarrassment; if anything that spurred him on! He smelled her asshole, enjoying humiliating the younger man, then gently licked the steamy knot, surrounded by its lurid dark stained aureole, sending a shockwave through Junior so strong her entire body flinched as she cried out, nearly cumming from the stimuli. Kent loved it…. kissing and eating the youth out as Miss drew her knees up, now totally giving in to the exquisite pleasure, but still hot and flushed! His dick was as hard as it would ever get, sculpted to her belly, and Kent gripped it away, meanwhile licking the tensed up nuts, tasting and smelling the young lady ass! Miss was so excited she tried grabbed at her cock; chatter moaning loudly amid her frantic gasps. Kent pushed a leg up, high, toppling Junior over on her back, where she clawed at the bed covers, straining her muscular, pleading for satisfaction. Kent gripped the hardon, looking at Miss, who was too excited by desires to pay any attention to anything outside of herself. She squirmed around on the bed, raising her legs and talking in a crying babble, anxious for release from his excitement. Kent took the dick in mouth again, feeling the series of shivers that previewed orgasm. He mouthed the cockhead, delighted by the girlie squeals, and he could see she was on the verge…the nuts had tensed and there was only one way to relax them. Motivated by her, Kent's erection strained in his jeans, and there was no stopping it! Kent squeezed Junior's cock, feeling her pulse pounding deep within her, and for good measure, he slipped a finger against her anus, pressing until the damp muscle gave a bit, then shoving in hard until the asshole opened up and his finger slid in up to the knuckle in the hot tightness. Junior arched hard, squealing from the hurt, the invasion! The tendrils of liquid gold rocketing about her groin and belly and legs suddenly roared out of her guts and approached center at light speed, gaining in intensity until her cock was a stinging ache: Miss began to orgasm, her eyes opened wide and time seemed to stop. Everything turned liquid golden, and a flash of white hot intensity stung the youth to the quick as she erupted! Junior's entire being pumped, and the scalding jets of seed hosed Kent's throat, hot jet after jet! Junior came so strongly Kent could hear the whip sound of it ejaculating! Kent finger fucked his wench, sucking and masturbating the girl's dick as the orgasm lessened intensity. Far away, Junior heard noises, her pleasure surged past fulfilled. She was gasping loudly, sucking in oxygen, unaware of anything but her body exhaustion. Kent wrestled with his own dick, but the need for relief didn't give him time to dig it out so he squeezed at it and came to a wondrous climax himself, unfortunately inside his jeans. In a few moments, both lay back hyperventilating and trembling from released tension. Kent's laid his head against Junior's shaking leg, too drained to do anything else. Junior shivered and moaned unhappily, his teeth chattering. Kent gently slid his finger out of her ass, making her softly cry out, then wiggled his way up beside the naked shivering boy; Miss's wig had been torn off, and the now blonde looked at Kent trembling quite violently, complaining about cold. Kent reached over Miss and brought up enough blanket to cover up his lover. Kent tucked the delightful creature in up to her neck, and kissed him affectionately; wrapping his arms around her protectively. Junior warmed up, and the lover's breathing settled down as they cooled off.

End of part 3 2367 wds

  

  

  

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