Female Trunks Novels & Stories

I Stiffen when I hear the door unlock. “Bash?” Trinity’s sleepy voice makes me blink. She opens the door wider while rubbing her right eye with the back of her finger. Her bedhead proves that she’s already sleeping. She’s only wearing a gray baggy shirt with her college logo printed on it. Her long legs are in full view with her bare feet, and deep red painted toenails. “Coming or not?” she asks, and that almost startles me from checking her out. I swallow when my eyes land again on her now very prominent braless tits. Even with her shirts on, I can see the little buds react, perhaps from the cold weather.

she gasped. Traci picked up where I'd left off, sitting up and grabbing the bottom of Andrea's t-shirt and pulling it up over her breasts. With a bit of a tussle she got it off of her. During the turmoil, I lowered Andrea's panties to the bottom of her butt cheeks, and slipped my cock between the material and the crack of her ass. When she lifted her leg, the pressure on the material just pulled me closer against her. "So, do you think you might be desirable? Do you think it's you, or the asshole?" Traci insisted, tracing her fingers across Andrea's hard nipples.

It's most definitely not something she can wear to see Kane Boron. Remembering how Priscilla use to dress whenever she sees her and Kane, how she looks sophisticated, charming and alluring as well and she realized that being a woman is a lot of trouble. If she was to be Oliver now, just a shirt and a pant will be enough to see Kane. She left her room for her aunts, all the way making a mental note to herself to go shopping for female wears if she knows she wants to keep up her little game.

Yes, it really is big enough to get lost in. "Aha!" she yells triumphantly, appearing with a dress in her hands. It's gold, short and covered with sequins. I gawk at the dress and throw Trish an amused look. "How many prostitute costumes do you own?" Trish gasps, her eyes widening before she takes a second look at the dress. "Okay maybe you're right, only a little. This one is definitely a no." Trish grimaces before hanging the dress back up.

I asked then realized he was pointing out two girls coming out of the clothing store. My jaw nearly dropped. They were gorgeous and dressed so sluttily. Like something out of a rap video or a porno. I mean, they were schoolgirls. Trashy schoolgirls with skirts so short that the tartan cloth barely covered their rumps. They had their blouses tied beneath their big tits. Were those fake? They had tramp stamps, too. I couldn't believe what I was reading on them. "Bareback Only" was written on one and "Deposit Only" on the other. A throb of heat shot through me and raced up my cock. I couldn't believe it.

“Besides, I thought you were staying off bad boys? This is Alaric’s bodyguard.” “Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate his beauty,” she murmured, rolling her eyes. “Who’s the girl anyway?” We got our answer when the trunk popped open, and the woman reached inside to pull out a rack of garment bags with Trip’s help. Brows furrowing in confusion, I walked toward the SUV, Nova trailing closely behind. “Uh… Trip? What is…” I trailed off as the girl reached for four shoeboxes and boxes that I was sure contained purses.

The top had thin straps and a neckline that liked the idea of gravity but wasn’t loyal to it. “That’s a bridesmaid sample,” a junior consultant said, appearing at my elbow. “We get creative during trunk shows.” “I like creative,” I said. “Can I try it?” “It’s not on the list for today.” “I’ll be quick.” She hesitated, then nodded. “Room three.”

She pranced away completely naked as Ben shook his head with a smile. Minutes later she returned dressed in her jogging suit minus the sports bra which she held in her hand. Her tits were seriously bulging out of the suit and Ben did his best not to stare. "Mmm! Fresh and warm from the dryer!" she hugged herself making her tits threaten to spill out. "Trish! Please!" Ben gasped.

I helped her lift the lid and froze when I saw the contents. The trunk was full of items that definitely belonged to a woman. Clothes folded neatly, costume jewelry in little containers, a scarf that looked like it had been eaten by moths. Things that clearly hadn’t been touched in some time.

I handed the bracelet to the police, and they quickly located the chip inside the dress. A scan revealed the identity information. The dress was mine, clear as day. "Miss Huxley—or should I say Miss Smith—do you see this? This wedding dress belongs to the Vance family. It is the personal property of Sheila Vance. This gown is worth 1 million dollars. You've ruined it with your alterations, and you will be held fully responsible for all losses!" Lisa froze.