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7:24 Cuckold's Revenge!

Hi again

Well – tonight was a very different night that came from absolutely nowhere. On Wednesday nights the five of us always go to a quiet pub for a few drinks and a chat. Simon always organises the taxi and it does a circuit of the town picking us up, getting to me last as I’m nearest the centre. We have a pact that we dress down on Wednesdays as we are not on the pull and are just there to catch up on each others gossip. If anyone is too dressy they get sent back to change by Simon! It’s a system that seems to work well!

Last night I wore skin tight jeans, a white crop top, white stilettos and my white leather jacket. We went to a quiet pub which is run by the most lovely gay couple. They’ve been together for 27 years and look after us like the princesses we are. Seriously, it’s not a traditional tranny pub but we know we are welcome and will be left alone by the rest of the guys. Anyway, we are sitting at the bar gossiping away when this guy suddenly appears at my side. As I said, we have an agreement that Wednesdays nights are ‘non pulling’ nights so I ignore him. But he puts a hand on my shoulder and says:

“Are you Melanie?”
“Maybe.”

At this point I expect Lou to weigh in. She’s the oldest and most experienced of us and, having spent years on the stage, has a great line in put-downs. However, Lou and the others are concentrating on their drinks like their lives depend on it and it seems like I’m on my own. The guy whispers:

“What size shoe do you take?”

Fuck! That was from way out on the left field. I’ve heard some crap chat-up lines but that’s gotta be the worst!

“7 UK – why?”

I’m pissed-off now that I seem to be dealing with this guy on my own when this is supposed to be an ‘all for one – one for all’ night. Even Simon has taken himself off to the loo instead of bringing his six foot three body to my rescue. The guy leans closer and his lips brush my hair - actually he’s not that bad looking:

“I have a proposition for you!”

With that he whispers earnestly for a good five minutes while the others pretend not to be trying to hear - and my smile grows wider by the minute. It all makes sense now. Zahra takes a size 6 shoe, I take a 7, Stas an 8 and Lou a 9 – that’s why we never share shoes. He takes my hand like we are on a first date – which I suppose we are – and I glance across at the others – who all wink at me. Why do I get the impression I’ve been set up?

My guy is in his mid-40s and sort of sexy in a nice dependable way and he does nice things like open the door of his car for me. His home is a few miles outside the town, a nice big bungalow in its own grounds with an automatic gate – how cool – I’m not very good with technology so it doesn’t take much to impress me! We park and he leads me into his home and pours me a glass of wine. Then he takes me into this vast bedroom and opens up a huge walk-in closet. Over the next couple of minutes he carries an assortment of items to the bed and lays them out.

“I bought all these things for my wife to try to rekindle our marriage - but she won’t wear them for me. Will you do me the honour?”

Fuck – that was like something out of a 1930s movie. Anyway, he leaves me to it and I strip down to the bare buff and examine the stuff on the bed. My mouth opens in awe as I see the label on the lingerie – even I have never been able to justify buying Guia la Bruna and I pull it on grinning like the cat that’s got the cream! The dress is the most classic LBD and I wonder whether it will fit me – but it does! Fuck me – the closest I’ve ever been to a Maria Grachvogel dress is looking in a shop window. Trembling with excitement I pick up the shoes – Roger Vivier peep-toe stilettos in size 7 – and they fit me like a glove. There is pearl jewellery on the bed and I pull off my cheap white plastic bangles and drape myself in a necklace, bracelet and ring before I fix my makeup in the en-suite bathroom. Finally I look at the perfume - Hermés – new and very expensive – I tried it once in a shop - it smells of cat piss – but what the hell!

I join him in the sitting room and he stands and ogles me. Without a word, he takes my hand and leads me back to the bedroom. He takes his clothes off and kneels beside me as he tells me how his wife ignores him, is frigid and is having an affair with some other guy. I pretend to listen but I’m thinking ‘how can any woman not like these beautiful clothes’. He kisses my shoes and his cock stiffens – he has a nice body and a big, meaty cock, and I think his wife must be dating some frickin’ hunk if she’s ignoring him. Then he takes off one shoe and kisses my toes, running his tongue between them, licking them and nibbling my pink toenails. Then he slips something over my second toe. “I bought this ring for her on our fifteenth anniversary as a token of my love – but she never wore it - and I’d like you to have it!” Fuck! He must really hate her if he’s giving his wife’s eternity ring to a tranny he met an hour ago! This was getting freakier than I wanted so I slid my foot back into the shoe and took his cock in my mouth.

“I’ve always wanted you to do that to me Sylvia!”

Frickin’ Sylvia – what’s wrong with Melanie? Anyway, I play with him and his eyes never leave me as if he’s savouring every moment of his betrayal. Then I take one shoe off and slide it over his cock until his smooth, purple tip pokes through the peep-toe. He moans as I close my pink lips over it and suck and tease his magnificent cock. It swells, filling the peep-toe and pinning the shoe along his throbbing shaft. Without my eyes leaving his, I slowly draw his glistening tip into my mouth followed by the toe of the shoe with his cock impaled inside it. He moaned and jerked and I was sure he would cum in my mouth. However, he seemed to change in an instant and pulled himself free, replaced my shoe and told me to kneel on the bed.

Within seconds he had pulled my bare heel from one shoe and I felt his cock take its place. Gripping me tightly around my waist he thrust his cock into my shoe, fucking the sole of my foot then, just as suddenly, switched to my other foot. For the next few minutes he fucked one foot after the other – his cock probing deeper into my shoes - almost emerging from the peep-toes. Finally, with a primal cry, he came into one shoe, once, twice and pulled his cock free. The next jet shot up the back of my panties before he found my other shoe and expended his load beneath my foot. He mustn’t have had it for years because I swear there was a pint of it swishing around in my shoes! I looked at his face and there was an expression of pure joy – like he had just had the ultimate revenge.

We lay together and I whispered – ‘you know trannies have needs too!’ - as I took one hand and placed it on my cock, which was straining to escape from a pair of $600 knickers. He hesitated then I saw his eyes melt and he moved to kiss me…but the crunch of tyres on gravel made us freeze, his lips on mine.

“Fuck! She’s home early! Get in the closet!”

Fumbling for his clothes he pushed me into the darkness and slid the door shut as I heard the cry of:

“Hey – I’m home put the kettle on will you?”

“Coming Darling!” – Then I am on my own in the dark.

A minute later she comes into the room and dials on her mobile:

“Hi darling– it’s Sylvia…I know…we are so hot together – what a great evening…I can’t get enough of you…almost caught him out…I think he’s been wearing my stuff…I can smell that awful perfume he bought me…just let me check the closet…yeah…as I thought…that slutty dress he bought me has gone…and the fuck-me shoes…Christ – I wouldn’t be seen dead in them…he’s hidden them somewhere… but I’ll find them...”

I lie under the bed with my own clothes in my arms. I knew the closet was a bad place to hide but now, under the bed doesn’t seem a good alternative. Now she’s in here with me I am sure to be discovered. Soft footfalls approach and a pair of Birkenstocks appear in front of me. A line of dirty toenails confront me as I shrink further under the bed. GOD! I hate Birkenstocks – and I wouldn’t be seen dead with dirty toenails! She flops on the bed and the springs sag dangerously close to my head.

“Yeah! He’s a just a worm…couldn’t cum to save his life…frickin’ impotent if you ask me…hey look…I’m gonna find where he’s hidden the clothes…can’t wait to tell you how he tries to explain it!...OK…see you tomorrow…I love you too Cheryl…bye!”

Cheryl! – frickin Cheryl! I barely suppress a giggle as her cracked heels disappear and she shuffles out of the bedroom. She yells:

“Where’s my fucking coffee!”…as I open the bedroom window, slip out, and squelch my way down the drive with cum slithering around inside my new shoes.

Two hours after leaving the pub, I’m back, carrying my own clothes in a little bundle and wearing £5,000 worth of Sylvias’s stuff. The girls stand and applaud me and I sit next to Simon and swing my legs across his. Giggling, I shuck off my shoe and wiggle my new diamond-studded toe ring in front of his eyes. Simon’s nose wrinkles and Lou quips:

“WOW! That’s taken cross-dressing to a new dimension!”




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