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14:53 A lesson learned the hard way!

Hi

I never bring guys back to my apartment – well last night I broke my own rule!

It all started because I was on the rebound, having been dumped by a guy I really cared a lot about. Anyway, I’ve been sorta dating this other guy for a few weeks – on and off – the odd midweek evening – and we’ve got to a bit of snogging and he’s put his hand up my dress but that’s about it. I know he fancies the arse off me cos his cock is rock hard when he kisses me and he writes me the most sordidly explicit emails I’ve ever read!!! So as you do when you are on the rebound, I got to thinking that maybe he might be the guy to settle down with. So when we met up in the club last night I wasn’t gonna take no for an answer.

I spend ages getting ready and wear a white mini dress, low cut with a cutaway panel at the front, white platform shoes, with my nails painted glossy white too. Chunky pink plastic bangles and necklace and glossy pink lipstick completed the ensemble. I’d arranged to meet him in a different club where not many people know me, cos I feel safe with him. But, even so, Simon, my gay friend, chaperones me inside until I meet up with my guy. He looks even better than I remember, well over six foot tall with thick curly hair and brown eyes to die for. I had already done the wedding finger check and either he doesn’t wear a ring or he’s single. Anyway, I’d asked him and he said something like “would I be here with you if I was married?” I thought…’well yes actually’ then decided not to credit him with the low moral standards of most of my lovers!

We dance and sit in a quiet corner and chat, and dance some more and pretty soon two empty bottles of champagne sit forlornly on the table. He is so considerate and wants to know all about me – I want to know more about him too but – like most trannies – I’m just happy to prattle away about my inconsequential life. We kiss, and the space between us fizzes with barely suppressed lust and I make up my mind… “Shall we go back to my place?”

We catch a taxi and he actually holds the door open for me! Sitting on the back seat, I tease his cock as the driver watches us in the mirror with a sly grin on his face. We enter my apartment and Hoover, my little dog, bounds up to greet us, skids to a halt and stops, baring his teeth at my guy. “I hate dogs!” The guy says – drawing me closer and kissing my neck. He nibbles my ear and I lose all reason – (note to self: take dog to local animal rescue centre in morning.) I lead him, still connected to my ear, to the bedroom where he takes off his jacket and hangs it over the back of a chair. Then we collapse across my big bed in a tangle of limbs. His kissing is so deep and tender and his caresses so light as he runs his fingers over my bare tummy then follows with his tongue, nibbling my belly button bar and working his way ever lower. I hitch up my dress to make things easy for him but he bypasses my white skimpy panties and traces a glistening line down one bronzed thigh to my knee. He bends my legs and suddenly he is licking and nibbling the soft flesh behind my knees. Good job I’m laying down cos my legs would have buckled as my heart turns somersaults and my cock swells, straining against the white satin.

His tongue resumes its journey south and my ankles receive the same treatment. He pays attention to every single one of the little teddy bears dangling from my ankle chain and squeezes his probing tongue beneath the straps of my sandals. I undo his shirt, then his trousers and coax his cock from his shorts. It is every bit as big as I knew it would be and I flush with desire for him. We pause for a moment while he shucks out of his clothes then he resumes his minute examination of my feet. I lay there as he kneels over me and takes first one foot to his mouth then the other. Each toe is thoroughly worked over by his tongue, he attends to my nails, the gaps between my toes, under my toes and all over the front of my shoes. He must have the lung capacity of a South Sea pearl diver ‘cos he doesn’t come up for air for at least twenty minutes! When he does, it’s only to change position and start on my bare heels until he has finished with them and he takes each long white stiletto heel into his mouth, sucking on them like the phallic symbols they are. Next he takes both heels, pushes them together and takes them into his mouth. I’m very much the spectator but deeply turned on by the attention I’m getting, he is so tender and as my heart flips again I know I’m soaking my panties with my desire for him.

“Turn over darling!” He whispers and I’m still quivering as I gently roll over, kneel and wave my ass in his face…He actually called me ‘darling’!!! I barely notice as he removes my left shoe and I feel the heel at my little puckered ass. Then it is inside me and I gasp – as much with pain as surprise as there is no foreplay – and it frickin’ hurts. I grin and bear it as he thrusts my eight inch heel into me – this is our first time and I’d forgive him anything. I grit my teeth as he rams my heel into me, stretching me painfully as the heel widens towards the top. My nails dig into the sheets as I try not to cry out - then he is finished. He flips me over onto my back and I am in seventh heaven as he gently bends my right leg and lays the outside of my shoe, with my foot inside it, across the front of my knickers. Then he takes my other shoe and lays it next to my head. I can see my grubby toe prints on the white lining and think he was bloody brave to stick his tongue in there earlier! He holds my leg close against me as he licks the inside of my foot before positioning his throbbing cock over me. I arch my foot and he slides into the gap, squeezing my foot against the restraint of my sandal straps. He leans forward, pinning my leg in position with his weight and places my shoe over my face with the heel inside my mouth. I taste my own juices before he comes down on the shoe hard, forcing his face into it, inhaling my scent as he rams the heel into my throat. I let out a muffled cry of ecstasy as his long, hard cock emerges from the gap between foot and shoe and spears the front of my panties. He is so strong as he powerfully fucks my shoe, each jab on my pubic bone sending me ever closer to my own climax. I hook my other leg across his knees to pin him there, never wanting this glorious sensation to end, as he increases his pace.

Then, without warning he pulls away, throwing my leg off his back like a straw, and drags me towards him by a combination of neck and hair. My right leg is numb and still thinks he’s pinning it to me and I can’t uncurl it as he drags me up the bed. He is rough, but it’s all part of the game, and I follow my hair before it’s pulled out by the roots. My leg is now pinned against his thighs as he thrusts his cock into my mouth. I’m so off balance that I clutch around his waist for support as he pushes his cock straight down my throat, forcing my head back as I struggle to take his full length. I gag and my throat expands and he is inside me up to the hilt with his balls slapping against my chin and my nose embedded in his thick curls. He hasn’t showered today but that’s the least of my worries as I fight for air as he pulls me tighter against him. He has obviously timed this to perfection as with a couple of tiny thrusts, his cock swells and I panic as my throat is totally filled and I begin to choke. I am breathless and light-headed as the first jet of cum shoots into me then another and another. I could not pull away if I wanted to as he has two handfuls of my hair and is pulling my head against him. I do not taste his cum as it shoots directly down my throat and all I am aware of is the feeling of drowning as it flows towards my stomach. I gag again and he withdraws from me in one swift movement. He sits back and my trapped leg slowly drops to the bed. My voice is gravely, not surprising as I’ve just gargled in spunk! I try not to sound like I’m about to cough up a mouthful of jizz as I shimmy closer, flutter my eyelashes and ask:

“Would you like to stay the night? Maybe there might be some other parts of me that you haven’t fucked yet!” I know there are because he’s written to me in great detail what he’s going to do when he gets chance. He doesn’t respond so I say:
“I make a real good breakfast too!”

My dream lover reaches for his shirt and sneers:

“You must be joking! There’s no way I’m staying the night with you - let alone sticking my dick in you! If I fuck you - I’m fucking every guy who’s ever had you! How many is that then – a hundred – a thousand?” He stands and I grab his arm – there are tears in my eyes. I plead…
“Please babes! I just…”
I never finish the sentence as he slaps me across the face…
“Don’t touch me you whore!”

Then everything happens at once. Hoover charges across the room to protect me, snapping and snarling and the bastard guy kicks out at him sending him skittering across the room where he crashes into the dressing table with a yelp. I fly at the guy, tearing at him with my long nails and raise a line of bloody scratches down one cheek. “Bitch!” He yells and throws a punch at me, aimed at my mouth. At this point the fact that I’m only wearing one shoe catches up with me and the slight issue of having one leg eight inches longer than the other comes into play. I try to stand on thin air and collapse under the punch, which catches me square in the eye. I see stars and reel across the room, sending the chair flying, before ending in a snotty heap - sitting in my laundry basket. I am on the verge of consciousness as he scoops up his fallen jacket and aims a kick at my ribs.

However, the blow never comes. Instead the bastard lets out an ear-piercing yell as Hoover sinks his teeth into his leg. He grabs his clothes and runs for the door with Hoover worrying his calf muscle. Finally, he kicks my dog out of the way and slams the door shut. I fall out of the basket and Hoover runs to me, his white muzzle covered in blood and I hug my brave little soldier as our attacker fumbles with his clothes and then runs out of the front door. I phone Simon and my eye has already closed tight by the time he arrives. Simon makes a call and a guy comes to change the locks within half an hour. I’m OK and I just want to be alone with Hoover so I pad around the apartment in a daze, erasing every trace of that bastard, cleaning blood from the carpet and changing the sheets. As I’m righting the chair I notice something under the corner of the dressing table. It’s a wallet – his wallet. I open it and the perfect little family smiles out at me from the plastic window. Perfect little mousey-haired wife, perfect little boy with train-track braces and perfect little girl with ribbons in her hair. Bastard! I think all sorts of thoughts of revenge – should I call her? – send the wallet back to her with a note? – or even call the police? In the end I take his money. It’s only four hundred pounds but more than enough to buy something nice for Hoover. There is also a bill from a garage where he’s had his car serviced. It has his name, address and car registration number on it. I keep that too as a sort of insurance policy. Then I put the wallet in a plastic bag and hang it from the outside door handle. I shut the curtains and phone in sick the next morning. By midday, the wallet is gone and I know I’ll never see him again.

Love

Melanie

xxxx



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