Crossdressing Tales Novels & Stories

Lena tells us in a very husky voice as she flashes the coat open, adding to the sexual tension. “Do you like my crotch-less pantyhose?” she asks as she flaunts her roaring erection poking out for both of us as she teases underneath it with just one finger. “I was going to wear my garter belt and stocking for you, but this is more comfortable. Though it was difficult to get over my erection. “I do, very much, a fantastic turn on,” Jerry and I answer as one. I have long fantasized about cross-dressing men dressed just like this and having them while my man watched and perhaps joined in, which is about to happen.

Abe’s only contribution was, ‘Enjoy yourselves now, but it isn’t going to happen. Cath ignored him and rubbed his face. ‘It’s smooth, but his hair is so dark on the white skin.’ ‘Let’s black him up.’ ‘It will have to be a long-sleeved dress and thick tights.’ Mave disappeared to the bathroom and came back with some waxing strips, waxing honey and a wax warmer. Things had reached farcical. I had to intervene. ‘Let’s try something else. I’m looking at some cross-dressing advice online. There is one picture here of a very hairy man in a short-sleeved, short dress, hair everywhere, bushes poking from under his décolleté.

The boutique smelled like sex and satin. Callie was still breathless, legs parted on the fitting stool, thighs slick with her own orgasm and the ghost of Luca's mouth. Her dress was hiked above her hips, bodice loosened, veil hanging from one pin in her hair like a fallen halo. Luca stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his cock thick and heavy in his slacks, the outline unmistakable. He looked at her like a man not done. "Stand up," he said, voice rough.

Disclaimer: This work is a piece of fantasy fiction. All names, characters, businesses, events, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. As a writer, I believe in the power of storytelling to create worlds that allow readers to escape reality and explore their imaginations. Each character and event in this story has been crafted with care, and I hope they resonate with you as much as they do with me.

“I see, so basically I look like a freak?” “Let’s see, you need makeup, real boobs, and you have to learn to walk on those heels and you need a wig.” “Fuck!” Valerie laughed. “Not to worry.” She reached for her laptop that lay on the coffee table and opened it up. After searching G****e she said, “look, here is a site for crossdressers. Give me your wallet.”

“Put this on. Speak only when spoken to.” Celeste slipped the mask on and stepped through the second set of doors. That was when she realized what the Playground really was. Naked bodies danced in the dim candlelight. Women on leashes, crawling. Men sipping whiskey while watching someone tied to a cross being flogged with a soft whip. Moans echoed off the walls. A woman was blindfolded on a velvet chaise, two men taking turns between her thighs. It wasn’t an orgy. It was theater. And she was the newest act.

I guess I would never know what my murderer looked like. "Why do you have to be such a buzzkill? You see—buzz, kill. You get it?” The man laughed once again, which made shivers run down my spine and all over my limbs.“Oh, is someone getting excited?” A hand touched my stomach, and I jumped, suddenly realizing that I was naked. “Who knew that dying could be someone’s kink?”I continuously couldn’t think of anything, completely dumbfounded by the situation.

Plagiarism of this work in any shape or form is strictly prohibited and will be treated seriously under applicable law. This is an original, non-plagiarized work. All the characters, scenes, and narratives are the product of the author's creativity. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental. --- Final Word Tales of Instant Lust is a celebration of uninhibited sexuality, desire without delay, and storytelling that gets straight to the point. It’s for bold readers who enjoy their erotica quick, dirty, and deeply satisfying. Please read with an open mind and respect the intended age boundaries.

For three years, I used my family's mob ties and my own money to pave the way for Declan's crew. He was the boy I survived the streets with as a kid. But at this month's sit-down, his newly hired secretary, Roxy, tossed my casino ledgers and club records onto the table in front of all the guys. She accused me of skimming profits and slacking off. "These underground banks, these smuggling docks," she read the numbers out loud, her voice full of fake outrage. "Every time she bribes someone, she skims thousands of dollars! She's lining her own pockets." "I say the Boss strips her of her club manager title right now to save our cash flow." I glanced at Declan, the boss of the crew. He knew

"A young woman vanishes without a trace. No evidence. No leads. As if she simply... ceased to exist." "The story fascinated me. I dug deeper, trying to find the truth behind the disappearance — until I came across a novel." My body went rigid. "What did you just say? A novel?" "The world we're in right now — it's a novel. I stumbled into it the same way you did. That's when I realized you didn't just disappear. You crossed over, just like me." "I've been watching you for a while. Everything about you confirmed it — you're the woman who vanished."