Crossdressingstories Novels & Stories

She even told her everything about going shopping and to the movies, and went into explicit detail about the way she and her father had made each other cum in the theater. The blonde's expression turned to one of amazement, and her hands grew continually rougher and more aggressive on Brook's tits as she listened to the story. Just telling it had Brook's panties soaking wet, and she was pretty sure Cindy's were too. "Holy fuck!" the blonde said. "You're so lucky."

A third, hand raising his lady’s gown, was stroking her pussy in a leisurely manner, while she reached round and grabbed his sturdy weapon. The screen lovers were now showering each other with streams of golden rain. The guests whooped their approval, their activity frenzied. Each couch was occupied by couples straining in ecstasy. The lovely person who had sat near Karen during dinner began to remove her bustle dress. Her breasts were small, her waist slender, but as the gown slid lower, a small penis emerged from the folds. The transvestite stroked it fondly, spread its dew up his arse crack and bent over. The man who had been with him all evening whipped out his stumpy, broad-headed cock

The experience only lasted maybe seconds, and my feet hit the floor, but it took me a moment to recuperate and center again. When I could focus again, I noticed that my ankles and wrists were bound to the wall. My clothing looked different and there was some type of bracelet on my right ankle. There was a curved wall of glass around me and a soft white light above my head. The blackness of my veins was gone, and my hair was down over my shoulders but appeared to be in long and thick curls. Peering through the glass, I saw that there were other women in similar glass displays. Wait, am I in a display case? What the hell is going on, I thought! Panic filled me once again. In front of me, a ver

I walk into the cool premises that’s scented with candles and incense, a very huge difference with the disgusting smell of sweat and heat outside. My short black dress that shouldn’t be seen on a pastor’s wife clinging to my body like a second skin and screaming nothing but sin. The thin mesh of the material is damp with sweat from the blazing heat outside outlining my full breasts and wide hips. I intentionally ignored wearing a bra and panties, I’m here for confessions and deliverance after all and what better way to do it than without underwear. As if being told someone is in the premises, two people suddenly appear from a hidden door behind the altar. Priests to be precise. People that h

She brought both breasts back to my penis and wet them again, and brought them back to my mouth. The next moment, she straddled me again, and checked my bondage's for tightness. I could definitely not move my hands or my legs. "Do you know what I read recently?" "No, what?" "I read a story that you posted online. It was called 'I want you to feed me'." I stared blankly,I'd forgotten that she read my sex stories online, sometimes, especially this one. "Uhhh yes well..." "Do you remember writing the story, do you remember what it was about?" As she questioned me, she was humping her open pûssy over the head and shaft of my cock.

Almost immediately her phone vibrated, it was a message from Derick which read, “Opposite the bar, there is a sex shop with a glory hole. You will go there to suck a dick, and then you will come back to the bar. You have to remove your bra before you step out of the taxi.” As she removed her bra, the taxi driver took a glance at her breasts and licked his lips. This made her nipples hard. She came down and waved goodbye to the taxi driver. She crossed over to the other side of the street; she noticed the glances some men gave due to her breasts, which pointed clearly through her elegant blouse. The sex shop was quite large but looked old and well preserved. The manager approached her immedia

Scenes where she called him her husband and begged to be used. In her stories, he had a name. Caleb. She whispered it while touching herself under the covers, her thighs slick and trembling as her fingers moved in rhythm with the words she’d written. She told herself it was harmless. That lots of people fantasized. That it was better this way. Safer. He didn’t know. He’d never know. Until the night they crossed paths at the corner store. It was raining. Mira’s hoodie clung to her neck, and her flip-flops slapped wet against the tile floor of the tiny market. She grabbed a can of soup, a bottle of wine, and turned toward the register—and froze.

Well, I can't fuck myself, someone has to do the fucking" I replied. He chuckled. I returned to his cock, sucking like a slut in heat. I made sexual sounds to excite him; years of watching p**n and reading erotic stories had taught me that men love hearing erotic moans from women, even if they are just for effect, not because my pussy is actually getting stimulated. The New York best selling romantic novels were my best companions during my college days.

Her back met the cool glass of the window, sending a shiver down her spine. Alex's hands moved to the thin straps of her dress, his eyes questioning. Mia nodded, lifting her chin in silent permission. Slowly, he slid one strap down her shoulder, then the other. The simple dress, held up now only by the pressure of their bodies together, waited to fall. Alex stepped back slightly, just enough for the dress to slip down. The fabric whispered against her skin as it pooled at her feet, leaving Mia naked before him. She'd deliberately worn nothing underneath after her shower.

I got my three bitches destroyed. I walk into the club and unlike before, I don't head to the bar. I already had enough to drink. As usual, the place smells of sin and smoke, high liquors and gambling. My eyes roam the place in search of the manager, Sasha. I sweep past the orgy party and hall of bad game players. There she is, dressed in a tight leggings that hugs and divides her big butt. She inspects a stripper, ranting in her UK accent as always. “Sasha.”