Crossdressingstories Novels & Stories

"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."

The car drops me at the gate of the mansion. Inside the mansion, everywhere smelt like perfume and weed. People were everywhere, some naked, some half naked. I spotted a woman on her knees in the corner, giving head to a guy. Two people were fucking on a leather couch, the woman's legs hooked over the man's shoulders, his hand clamped over her mouth. My thighs are already pressing together under the hem of my dress. I've been wound so tight for weeks. All these things on my plate, the press, the interviews, having to be perfect all the time. Now, I needed to relax.

“Yes. Send” Friday, Paradise was packed as usual. There was cigar smoke and the smell of whiskey hung in the air. I didn’t mind the smell of either. I stood at the end of the long mahogany bar, finding out where the guys were sitting. I took a quick look at myself in the mirror behind the bar. I wore my hair up in a lazy bun with a few hairs framing my face, black stilettos that Nathan bought on our anniversary in Paris, and a black bandage dress that I hadn’t worn in years. I was surprised that it still fit.

The red dress was tight, short, and low-cut, hugging my curves obscenely and making my breasts look even fuller. When I walked back into the living room Damien was waiting. I lowered myself to my hands and knees without being told and started crawling toward him. The carpet rubbed against my knees and the dress rode up high, exposing the bottom of my ass and the thin strip of the thong. I could feel his eyes burning into me the entire way. The humiliation of crawling like this after everything else today made my cheeks burn hot, but my pussy was already getting wetter with every movement. “Good girl,” he murmured when I reached his feet. He ran his fingers through my hair, then gripped it ti

What the fuck! My curiosity got the better of me. I knew I shouldn’t. I knew I should turn around and go back to the living room like a normal, professional babysitter. But instead, I crept closer, holding my breath. The door was open just enough for me to see inside. And what I saw made my mouth go dry. Damien Cross was sitting in his large leather chair behind the desk, legs spread wide. His shirt was unbuttoned, his powerful chest and abs on full display. His pants were open, and his hand was wrapped around his thick, hard cock, stroking it slowly, deliberately.

Warning: Explicit sexual content, dominant/submissive dynamics, rough sex, forbidden relationship, risky public sex. 18+ only. Ethan had been subscribed to Scarlet's exclusive content for eight months. Eight months of the most intense, addictive solo sessions of his life. The mysterious masked stripper had become his obsession....her body was perfection, her moves were hypnotic, but it was the mystery that really got him. Nobody knew who she was. She never showed her face, never spoke, just moved with a sensuality that made grown men weep.

Every breath carried the low growl of his voice in my ear: Look at yourself… dripping for me while my fiancée waits. By 7:15 p.m. I was back at his building, wearing a loose black sweater dress that fell to mid-thigh. No underwear. The notebook burned in my bag like contraband. I told myself this would be the last time. One more night of filthy vows and mind-shattering pleasure, then I’d find a way to extract myself from this job before the wedding planning spiraled any deeper. The lie felt thinner than the lace I’d stopped wearing. The penthouse lights were dimmed to a warm amber glow tonight.

Lyrics I woke up already wet. My pussy throbbed from dreaming about Dominic’s hands and his thick cock pressing against me. I chose my outfit carefully today – a tiny sports bra that barely held my breasts and very short dance shorts with no panties underneath. I wanted him to know exactly what I was offering. I waited in the elevator. When the doors opened and he stepped in, his eyes went straight to my body. “Fuck, Lyric,” he said, voice rough right away. “You trying to kill me?”

He took an extra inch into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and bobbing his head, the hard length disappearing gradually. “Fuck” the man recieving the treatment gasped, his veiny hands moving to hold his head and his hips thrusting slowly. “Shit” someone cursed drawing my attention. Max, Jonathan and George were all stroking their cocks but Jonathan’s eyes were locked on me, his full lips plump and parted as he rocked his hips into his palm. The depravity of the action sent a chill down my spine and straight to my cock and a choke gasp escaped my lips.

The burn was intense, but the pain melted into filthy pleasure as he buried every inch. “Take it, whore. Take that dick in your shithole.” They started pounding her….. Ethan wrecking her ass, Jax skull-fucking her. Then they switched. Jax took her asshole while Ethan made her clean his cock straight from her ass, making her taste her own filth. She came hard, squirting messily onto the mat while both holes were used. But they weren’t satisfied yet. They flipped her onto her back and double-penetrated her properly. Jax lay down and yanked her on top, slamming into her cunt. Ethan mounted her from behind and forced his cock back into her already-stuffed asshole.