[continued from previous message]

brushed her cock earlier but the man seemed to be enjoying himself,
certainly there was no reduction in the flow of pre-ejaculate that
drooled from his cock.

Julie was quite enjoying the experience of having a man on top of her,
kissing her and frotting her. Her cock was also leaking pre-seminal
fluid and was tingling with delight. The man was squeezing her buttocks
through her knickers while he ferociously rubbed his cock on hers.

The man jabbed at her and missed and his cock slipped between her legs
and the man raised her bottom off the bed so his cock could slide
between her buttocks. Julie began to panic. She made it quite clear to
all her punters that she did not offer anal sex.

The man's prodigious cock slid along the crease of her perineum, the
soft white pillows of her buttocks cushioning his hard cock. He pressed
her buttocks together and humped the soft, slippery, warm channel
between her cheeks. Julie batted at his back with her fists and
scissored her legs against him in frustration but the man humped away at
her, his cock dangerously close to her sphincter.

Did it feel wonderful lying underneath this man while he held her tight
and pressed his penis between her pillowy arse cheeks eliciting little
tingles of delight every time his glans pressed on her sphincter? Of
course it did; it felt wonderful!

Was Julie terrified that the man was going to pierce her anus either intentionally or unintentionally? You bet your best knickers she was but
it just felt so wonderful to be smothered by this big handsome man who
was kissing her, squeezing her buttocks as he humped them, with her knicker-clad cock rubbing on his hard belly while he did it.

The man began to whimper and Julie felt his cock shudder and suddenly
her bottom was soaked with warm syrupy jism and Julie held him tight and scissored her nylon-clad legs against him, raking his flanks with her
heels as she released against his hard, flat belly. The room suddenly
reeked of spunk.

Julie clung to the man, returning his desperate kisses as he pinned her
to the bed and fucked her buttocks. At least once the tip of his glans
pierced her sphincter but only enough to open it a little and when he
did Julie screamed but it was a scream of trepidation and delight rather
than abject terror. She had to admit that it felt nice as she flooded
her knickers with her seed and the man continued to spurt his issue
between her legs.

When he was finished the man lay on top of Julie and stroked and coddled
her, whispering endearments, telling her how beautiful she was. He left
her sated and exhausted on the bed, soaking in his semen and her own
juices. Julie was too tired to see him to the door but found later that
he had left a decent tip.

Later that night in bed she recalled the handsome young man who had
stroked her knicker-covered penis while his finger was buried in her bum
and compared it to the feel of the big man's cock thrusting between her buttocks and at least twice accidently slipping inside her sphincter
just a little. She also recalled what Bella had told her: "You earn real
money on your back."

Food for thought but Julie was still adamant that's she wouldn't be
doing that any time soon.

However the next day her curiosity got the better of her and Julie
overcame her fear and had Julian purchase a dildo from a Soho adult shop
for Julie to use. She experimented with it over the next few days and discovered a few things. First she must douche before using it, second
she must use plenty of lubricant, third, it needed to be inserted
slowly, and finally, if she positioned it just right she could ejaculate
hands free.

The dildo was a wonderful toy but Julie still had no intention of
letting a man mount her. The very thought of it sent waves of
trepidation through her. There was big difference between Julie slowly
pushing a small lubricated dildo inside her clean anus and manipulating
it to please herself, than some brutish man pounding away at her tight
puckered bud!



Julie Clifford and Donald Cooper

Saturday morning Julian opened the bookshop a little later than usual.
Julie had imbibed a little more alcohol than she usually did on Friday
night and Julian's stomach was queasy. He had a frightful day and didn't
sell much but now that Julie was making good money from prostitution it
wasn't that important. What was important was that Julian's beloved
bookstore was safe from the debt collectors at Barclay's Bank.

Julian locked up early and went home and Julie took over. She took a
long luxurious bath and examined her slim body for any stray hairs which
were immediately plucked. Julian was not hirsute and had very little
facial or body hair. Julia's body was svelte but not skinny; she was
hippy and what little fat she had was stored on her pert buttocks. Her amber-blonde hair was growing out nicely and had recently been cut so
that Julian could wear it centre-parted and look like some bookish intelligentsia and Julie could wear it styled in a feminine bob.

Julie never wore her own hair at the Trunk and Brick or with her
punters. It was something personal to her and she loved to sit in front
of the mirror and brush and style it and was a little dismayed when she
had to put a wig cap over it and pull on one of her hairpieces but it
gave her the anonymity she needed to perform her duties as a whore.

The only part of her body she was not satisfied with was her breasts.
She had silicon prosthetics of course, breastforms they were called and
they filled the cups of her brassiere nicely and gave shape to her upper
body but she would really like some real tits. Nothing over exaggerated;
that would be outrageous; maybe a B or C size proportionate to her body.
But even if her wish came true and Julie did sprout breasts, what would
Julian do with them? Bind them? That seemed a little unkind. She was
already making him wear nylons and knickers under his man-clothes.

What if there was a way to do away with Julian? She'd often had this
thought but it was impossible. Everything was in his name and how would
she explain his disappearance and her sudden manifestation? She put away
such thoughts.

She dried herself and poured herself a drink and began the ritual of
applying her makeup. A glance at the clock revealed it to be five
o'clock. The phone would begin ringing soon. Saturday evenings were
always busy.

Julie finished her makeup and slipped into her lingerie, a white satin full-slip, matching full-cut knickers and brassiere, a black lace
suspender belt and flesh-toned seamed stockings. As often happened,
slipping into her dainties had produced an erection. She was too drunk
and exhausted yesterday when she got home from the pub to allow herself self-pleasure and she was concupiscent. She glanced over guiltily at her
little dildo and the tube KY Jelly beside it.

Julie had douched as part of her toilette and she smiled wickedly. A
little stimulation before she went to work wouldn't hurt. She took off
her knickers and lay on the bed and lubed up the dildo and put the tip
near the entrance to her anus. She improved her erection to full
tumescence and slowly inserted the dildo. It still hurt when it pierced
her sphincter but she took her time and soon the tip was pressing on her prostate whilst the girth of it illicited little sparklets of pleasure
from her puckered bud.

She took her cock in her hand and worked the dildo slowly in and out of
her anus, allowing herself fifteen minutes of sustained pleasure,
backing off each time she approached extremis. She would wait until she
had serviced all of her punters before she allowed herself to orgasm
unless one of them bought her off during a session which sometimes
happened if the man was handsome and the sex was good.

She wiped the dildo clean and set it aside and then she wiped the excess lubricant from her sphincter and put her knickers back on. Julie was
still tingling with sexual excitement and that wasn't a bad thing. It
made dealing with the pasty, fat, working class, middle-aged married men
who made up the bulk of clientele tolerable.

Julie had just put on her high heels when the phone rang. It was early;
still only five thirty. Normally she would have ignored it but she was
in a good mood brought on by post-masturbatory bliss and she
click-clacked down the stairs to answer the red phone, dressed only in
her lingerie.

"TV Julie," she whispered into the receiver in the sultry tone she used
for customers.

"What are you wearing?" Donald whispered; he was so nervous he could
barely speak and realised that he sounded stupid as soon as the words
left his lips.

"Piss off, tosser!" Julie hung up the phone and reached for her Consulates.

The phone rang again and Julie snatched it up ready to give a mouthful
of expletives to the idiot on the other end of the line.

"Don't hang up. I'm sorry; I know I sounded like a tosser," Donald said,
his tone genuinely conciliatory.

There was something in the man's tone and his educated accent that
appealed to Julie. It was hard to make an assumption based on a
telephone conversation but the man sounded genuinely sorry, a little
nervous, but also sanguine.

Julie lit the cigarette dangling from her red lipsticked lips.

"Mostly white. A satin full-slip, full-cut knickers and a brassiere that
I've yet to stuff with my false tits," Julie decided to have a little
fun with him.

"Hosiery?" the man whispered hopefully.

"Tan, or more correctly, flesh-toned, fully fashioned nylon stockings.
Black high-heeled courts," Julie let out a stream of smoke.

"Not those horrible thigh-high boots in your picture?" the man sounded
hopeful.

"Hey! Those boots cost me a pretty penny and a lot of my customers like
them," Julie said indignantly but she had to admit that she was enjoying
the banter.

"Your legs are too beautiful to be covered by boots," Donald whispered
and immediately realised his mistake.

"How would you know? Have you been here before?" Julie sounded pensive.

"No. But the shape of your legs in those boots leads me to believe they
will be even more magnificent just clad in stockings with your feet shod
in high heels," Donald thought he had recovered well.

"Well the clock's ticking ducky and I've got money to make. What can I
do for you?" Julie got down to business.

"I have a proposal," Donald took deep breath.

"I bet you do. Look you've read my card. The only thing I've got to add
is that it's two quid for hand relief and a fiver for fellatio... that's
if I offer it to you," Julie wanted to ensure this man knew that she was
in charge.

She tapped ash into a cut glass ashtray beside the phone and listened to
the man's heavy breathing. He seemed to making some sort of decision.

"My proposal is as follows. You take on no other customers tonight other
than me. I have you to myself for the whole evening and I'll pay you
seventy pounds Stirling," Donald couldn't believe that he had actually
said it.

Julie was shocked. She'd had all sorts of proposals put her way; most of
which were downright disgusting and mostly illegal but this was the
first time anyone had asked for her company exclusively other than
drunken proposals of ardour from admirers at The Trunk and Brick.

"It's a tempting offer but I'm not going to say yes. Turn up to my gaff
and I'll take a look at you and if you're clean, healthy and decent
looking I'll consider it. I'm not going to do anything dodgy. The only
thing on offer is what's on the card," Julie said, half-regretting that
she had.

Julie used a lower class cockney type inflection when she was working.
It was something that developed naturally. Inside herself she believed
that work she was doing was beneath her and if she was to be a whore she
might as well sound like one.

Her intuition was to tell this man to throw his hat in the air and take
a flying fuck at it but there was something about his manner that
tempted her. Besides if he really was some toff with a pocket full of
pounds, wouldn't it be nice to just have one customer to deal with?
Someone who sounded like they had a bit of class.

Like most of those posh poseurs, he probably wanted his bottom spanked
and to be told he was a naughty boy. If he asked to wear her knickers he
was out the door short shrift that was for sure.

"Ok done. If you don't like the look of me I'll be on my way. Don't
worry I'm not going to ask you to do anything, what did you call it?
Dodgy? I really just want to spend time in your company and of course a
kiss and cuddle and whatever else is on offer," Donald said, hardly
believing that he was saying those words.

"Twelve, Black Prince Road, Lambeth," Julie quipped.

"I won't be long; wear something nice," Donald said and hung up the
phone with trembling fingers.

Donald leaned on the telephone apparatus for support. His whole body was shaking and his legs felt like they might give way. How could he have
done such a thing? Donald knew that Julie was really just Julian dressed
as woman. But she wasn't! He'd seen her, heard her voice; he'd seen her
walk and talk. She was a beautiful woman. An alluring sexy woman and the
fact that she was anatomically different didn't repel him; it made him
desire her more.

This was madness! He needed to stop this now. Go home! Go down the club
and get drunk! Go to a nightclub and pick up a woman more his type!
Maybe even pick up a brass who was a real woman! Dare he say it: maybe
even call Vivian Huxtable!

All these things recurred to him over and over as Donald Cooper walked
the fifteen minutes from Lambeth tube station to twelve, Black Prince Road.

"Wear something nice! Who the fuck did this toff think he was?" Julie fumed.

But secretly she was glad that he had said it. She'd half expected him
to ask her to put on dominatrix leathers or a latex catsuit. These were
the favourites of those in her flock who were into bondage and
discipline. Others liked her dressed as the obligatory French maid,
perhaps a secretary or school teacher (she used the same outfit for
both). One punter had the audacity to ask if she a nun's habit!

It would be nice to wear something less costume but still seductive. She settled on a dark suit. The skirt was tight and had a kick-pleat in the
back otherwise it would be difficult to walk in. It wasn't really a
mini. It was a pencil skirt that came to just above her knees. That
jacket was also tight and fitted over a brilliant white satin blouse.
She'd had to lose the full slip she had been wearing earlier and settled
on a black rayon half-slip to go under the skirt, otherwise the
foundation garments and shoes she was already wearing went perfectly
with the outfit.

She poured another drink, lit a cigarette and waited anxiously for her gentleman caller to arrive. She'd seen hundreds of punters since she had started 'being on the game' but she had never felt so anxious about a
single one. She weeded out most of the loonies over the phone and those
that got through her rudimentary screening process were easily dealt
with, usually with a whip, a crop, or cane.

But this man seemed different; a rich toff who wanted her all to
himself. If he was handsome he might be the man of her dreams she joked
to herself and stopped laughing when the doorbell rang.

Donald took a deep breath and pressed the doorbell. He knew that if he hesitated he would never do it and walk away, likely forever. He would
probably be thankful that he did but he also knew that he would regret
it for the rest of his life. He would spend the evening with this TV
Julie person who had somehow enraptured him, captivating his thoughts,
ruining his life. He would let her do the things women of her kind were
paid to do and he would satisfy both his lust and his curiosity and he
would never see her again.

One thing was for sure! He would be going nowhere near what she kept in
her knickers under any circumstances!

Donald heard the click-clack of her high heels in the hallway and took a
deep breath and forced himself to smile.

Julie opened the door.

Smiling at her was a handsome man with rugged good looks, wearing an
expensive suit and polished brogues. His hair was black, thick and
lustrous and he reminded Julie of the actor Richard Burton. There was
something worryingly familiar about him and Julie couldn't put his
finger on it. He was certainly not one of her regular punters but she
was sure she had seen him before.

Julie began to close the door, her senses tingling; sensing danger.

Donald's heart was filled with dismay.

"The Elephant and Castle!" he blurted out.

Julie stopped with the door half-closed and looked at him quizzically.

"The Trunk and Brick! You asked me how I knew that your legs were
beautiful and if I'd been here before. I saw you at The Elephant and
Castle. I was amazed at how beautiful you were and then I found your
tart card in the bogs," Donald held out Julie's tart card, which had
crumpled in his hand, as if offering a tribute to a goddess.

It was not really a lie but it wasn't the full truth.

"Look it's my first time doing anything like this and I'm a little
unsure of myself. You know, being with a err, a... well you know. You're
not going to make this easy for me are you?" Donald sighed.

Julie opened the door and studied the man. She knew that she had seen
him before and although his story about seeing her at the Trunk and
Brick was believable and likely she was certain that she had seen him
somewhere else.

The curtain in the house across the road moved and Julie knew that Mrs
Granger, the local gossipmonger, was watching them, gathering more
gossip and rumours to spread.

Julie made a split-second decision.

"Come inside," she looped her hand through the crook of Donald's arm and
pulled him through the door.

Her touch was electrifying. Donald could feel her long delicate fingers
through the sleeves of his jacket. Her long red fingernails seemed to
dig into his flesh. He knew that he was embellishing and imagining it
but the miasma of her sensuous musk was not an illusion and he breathed
in deep as he stepped past her.

Julie felt the man's bicep through the sleeve of his coat and was
impressed. His aftershave was something spicy and alluring and she liked it.

Julie closed the door and put her back to it and studied the man closely
under the hallway light which was the only light in the house burning
brightly. Julie kept it that way so she could examine the punters as
they entered. The man was even more handsome under the light with his
leonine head, Roman nose and full lips and shock of coiffed black hair.
He had an athletic physique despite his age and his suit was cut
accordingly.

"Donald Cooper; enchanted to meet you," a smile lit his face as he
leaned in and kissed Julie on the cheek.

Julie had never been kissed on the cheek by any of her punters before.
Nor had many of them introduced themselves; they demanded anonymity and
they were simply 'men'. They usually grabbed her by the arse and forced
their mouths on hers or they were the opposite: shy and bashful and
Julie had to take them by the hand and lead them upstairs.

Julie felt herself taken with this man immediately. She felt stupidly
girl-like and overwhelmed by his good looks and his manners but it
wasn't just that. Donald seemed to have a genuine affection for her. How
she knew that having just met the man was beyond her. She couldn't
assume anything of the sort and realised that she was being silly.

"Ok you can stay. Seventy quid you said?" Julie was being deliberately
cold and aloof to hide her true feelings.

"Seventy it is Julie," Donald reached for his wallet and Julie realised
that she had failed to introduce herself.

But she had no need to, did she? He had her tart card with her name was
on it. He was just another punter; albeit a rich one.

Julie eyed the crystal bowl that sat beside the telephone where she kept
her keys and loose change and nodded. It was as if for some reason she
didn't want to touch Donald's money. That doing so would somehow degrade
her in his eyes. She knew that she was being stupid but she gave a sigh
of relief when Donald laid the crisp fifty pound note along with two
tens in the bowl.

"Now the preliminaries are concluded, might I suggest that we move
elsewhere, it's rather crowded here in the hallway," Donald quipped.

He couldn't help but drop his eyes to her ankles and calves. There were
the culprits! The limbs he had seen peeking out from a pair of trousers. Swathed in nylon stockings, they had beguiled him. But the woman to whom
the limbs belonged bore little resemblance to the man on the
eight-fifty-five commuter train. This woman was the girl of his dreams.

Julie saw Donald's gaze descend to her legs. This was not an uncommon
scenario; men often lusted after her legs... and her bottom, but in this
case she sensed that Donald was appraising her rather than just lusting
over her. It was a strange experience and she wondered if she had made
the right decision allowing him into her house.

end p3

She eyed the seventy pounds in the crystal bowl and decided that if
nothing else; the money would come in handy. She took the handset off
the red telephone and laid it on the table top so that they would not be disturbed and led Donald into the sitting room.

She'd done this absentmindedly. With one single exception she had always
taken her punters upstairs to the workroom.

"May I pour us both a drink?" Donald pointed to her little bar and Julie nodded.

He poured two gin and tonics and brought one over to Julie where she
stood in the middle of the room lit only by two dimmed standard lamps.

"You really are beautiful," he offered Julie her drink and she took it.

Her fingertips lingered briefly on his hand and Donald smiled and
sighed. She smiled demurely at him and took a sip.

"I bet you hear that all the time?" Donald said; knowing it was true.

There was no evidence of Julian's existence in the house. The woman
standing before him could have been Julian's twin sister but there
wasn't a skerrick of manliness about her. She was petite, utterly
feminine and ladylike and ridiculously beautiful and desirable. Donald
wanted to kiss her like he had never wanted to kiss another a woman in
his life but now he was in her presence he was scared. He thought that
if he started he would never want to stop.

"As a matter of fact..." Julie was about to reply when Donald stepped
into her and kissed her.

It wasn't lewd or coarse. He held her gently by her elbows and placed
his lips on hers and Julie felt herself melt. There was something
affectionate and tender about the kiss. Donald's full lips were gently
pressed on hers. She could smell his aftershave and feel the warmth and tender-heartedness in the gesture. His lips were soft and gentle, barley brushing her own. She felt his breath on her cheek as he lingered just
long enough not to be lascivious.

Julie felt her cheeks burning as she blushed. Why was she behaving like
this? Men came to her house to kiss and fondle her, to grope and
manhandle her. She whipped them and spanked them and pulled on their
willies until they spurted their essence and left, having paid for the satisfaction they received doing these things to her. She willingly got
down on her knees for some of them and suckled their phalluses until
they ejaculated in her mouth.

So why was she feeling like an adolescent schoolgirl in the presence of
this handsome stranger? He may be behaving like a gentleman for now but
soon he would behave just like all the others. He would make her do the
things that fed his carnal desires. 'Make no mistake Julie -- he's just
like the others' she thought to herself.

Julie's lips were plush and delicate; unlike any other woman he had ever
kissed and there had been many. She exuded a magnetism that beguiled
him, he could taste her lipstick, smell the cosmetics on her face and
the scent of her perfume. Her hair brushed his cheek and he was swept
away by the deliciousness of the simple act of kissing her. He wanted
their first kiss to go on forever but he broke the kiss and stepped back.

He reached out to stroke her cheek and Julie stepped back alarmed. She
wasn't used to such affectionate gestures and she thought that Donald
might be about to slap her. Some punters had done so before.

But Donald reached for her and pressed the back of his hand to cheek and
gently stroked it.

"You are such a beautiful creature," he sighed.

Julie demurred and put down her drink and turned her head slightly so
that Donald could stroke her cheek. She stepped into him and pressed
herself against him and he enveloped her into his arms.

This kiss was also tender and gentle at first but soon their passions
ignited and Julie clung to him as he kissed her with raw passion and
desire. She felt safe and secure in his embrace; his toned body pressed
against her delicate frame. The root of his manhood thickening against
her as the kiss became fervent; mouths opening, tongues intertwining,
breathing haggard with desire. Julie was becoming uncomfortably
tumescent, her penis swelling, trapped between her buttocks.

"You are a beautiful little minx," Donald gasped when they finally broke
the kiss.

"Do you want to go upstairs," Julie sighed demurely, catching her breath.

Donald knew what that meant and yes he wanted desperately to take this
woman upstairs.

He followed behind her his eyes glued to her buttocks swathed in that impossibly tight skirt. The kick-pleat opened and closed as she
ascended, providing him with glimpses of her stocking-sheathed thighs.
He had developed a wet patch in the front of his trousers and he'd had
to adjust them to cater for the erection growing in his underpants.

Julie led Donald into the workroom and they began to take up where they
had left off downstairs; kissing each other, at first tenderly and then
as their passions built, more eagerly and lecherously.

Julie felt tiny in his embrace and Donald was scared that he might hurt
her but he wanted to hold her close. Julie nestled into him, fitting
into him like a jigsaw piece, perfectly aligned to his frame. He had to
lean down to kiss her and her head was tilted upward to meet his. She
felt like a damsel in a movie, being held by her paladin. Julie imagined
that she was the damsel in distress in one of the many books she had
read and Donald was her white knight.

She knew that it was a foolish thought. He was merely a man who had paid seventy pounds so that he could have sex with her but her imagination
was rife and if the illusion made it more palatable then let it be so.

Donald had rid himself of all thoughts of Julian; there was only Julie
ever since he walked through the door and seen her and he couldn't
believe how captivated he was by her. She fitted against his body
perfectly, one arm around his neck, the other around his back, holding
him close, one long leg hooked around his so that she was moulded to
him, her lips pressed to his. He smelled, he tasted her, he heard her
shallow breathing, but most of all he felt her and she felt wonderful.

He caressed her buttocks through her tight skirt, the fabric hissing
against her satin knickers, the contours of which he could feel with his fingertips. He desperately wanted to touch those knickers. Somewhere
deep inside his subconscious he knew that Julie would be different down
there; there were things in her knickers that weren't exactly womanly
but he wasn't repulsed. In fact he was inquisitive and excited.

Julie felt him squeezing her buttocks and she liked it. That's not
right... she loved it. Most of her punters played with her arse of
course and sometimes she liked it and sometimes she didn't but she was delighted with Donald doing so. He had a way of squeezing and caressing
her buttocks that was both forceful and affectionate. She slipped her
tongue a little deeper into his mouth and showed her appreciation by
wriggling against him.

She could feel the heft of his manhood pressing into her; his phallus
hard long and proud, generating its own heat; its own life force. Julie
wanted to touch it, to squeezed it, to stroke it, to put in her mouth
and suckle it and dare she say it... she wanted to feel it pressing on
her puckered bud. She'd be too scared to take it inside her; it was too
big and would tear her apart but the very idea of having that mighty
prong pressing dangerously on the entrance between her legs was what
excited her the most.

Knowing full well that she would never let him enter her made her feel
safe while she relished the fantasy of it.

Donald had moved his hand under her skirt and was exploring the welts of
her stockings and the delicate fair skin above them. This was Donald's territory and he caressed, tickled, stroked and manipulated Julie's
thighs in ways she had never thought imaginable. Her cock was rock hard
and trapped uncomfortably between her legs. It ached for release.

Donald had enjoyed immensely caressing Julie's lovely buttocks and of
course he had relished stroking her stocking-sheathed thighs. He adored
the feel of her silky hose on his fingertips. He'd traced the backseams
of her stocking with his forefinger; he'd stroked the dark bands of the
welts at the top of her stockings and had savoured the soft cool flesh
above the welts after spending time tinkering with the silver clasps of
her garters.

Now his fingers had found the lace trim on the legs of her knickers and
were about to explore further. This is where Donald thought he might
have a problem and Julie sensed his hesitation.

She had never ever wanted a man to put his hands on her knickers as much
as she wanted Donald to do it right now. To stroke them. To caresses
them. To slip his fingers inside them and find her penis hard and
bloated and pressed to her perineum.

Julie melted in his arms when he did exactly that.

Donald slipped his fingers inside the laced gusset of her full-cut satin knickers and found a perfect V in the front of them but of course there
was no mons or labia. Instead his fingers forged on and found her fleshy appendage hard and throbbing, trapped between her legs. He freed it and
the organ sprang forward and filled her knickers. Donald wrapped it in
the silky satin of her panties and stroked it.

Far from being repulsed, his cock began to throb. It excited him so hear
Julie gasp into his mouth, and writhe and wriggle as he pleasured her.
His own cock was demanding attention too.

A single tear ran down Julie's cheek when Donald freed her penis and
began to stroke it through her knickers. She was terrified that he would
be repulsed by what he found in her panties. She knew that it was his
first time with a transvestite and while some men were raptured by the
idea of being with a 'special girl', some of them were horrified by the
reality of it when they actually touched her genitalia.

But Donald hadn't done that. He was caressing her tender root, he was
kissing her harder, he was holding her tighter and she could feel his
cock throbbing against her. He was enraptured with her and she with him.

She sensed his urgency and she snaked a hand between their bodies and
freed his cock from the confines of his trousers. Her small hand could
just contain it. She felt the velvety softness of the thin dermis
covering the hard erectile tissue; she traced the veins with a
fingernail, sensing the blood coursing through them, filling Donald's
cock to make it into the hard, phallic weapon that it had become.

The pad of her fingertip circled his fraenulum while her other fingers
lightly caressed his glans. Julie heard Donald gasp and felt him shiver
with delight. Then Donald slipped his hand inside her knickers and
caressed Julie's penis in an almost identical manner and she began to
shake with the delirium of pleasure he was wrenching from her sensitive
organ.

She fell backwards onto the bed and Donald went with her, lying on top
of her, covering her with kisses. He pulled her hand out of the way and

[continued in next message]

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