Divine Angels - Crossdesser & Shemale Erotica
The kind of night that held infinite promise, all that promise culminating in the certainty of sex. In the throng of Swathe, Davina stood amidst the population of camp queers, the muscle boys and their adoring twinks, dykes, dolls and screaming queens, perusing her options, wondering with whom she would pursue a night of excitement. There were familiar faces with whom she had already spent a night or two with, and unfamiliar strangers who appealed. Plenty of them were looking her way and she leaned against the bar sipping a cocktail.
When dolled up, Davina was a sight for the sorest of eyes. Statuesque with a blissfully defined muscular tone that exposed every feminine curve; she was wearing six inch heels that made her calves and thighs look like carven marble, wrapped now in nylons, the tops of which were buried beneath a sequin-peppered shimmering black skirt. Her gym-honed buttocks looked like rolling steel bearings atop artisan-sculpted pistons. Her flat stomach hung behind the veil of her top, a halter neck that hung from the curve of her artificial breasts. Lustrous brown hair cascaded, framing a face with a perfect jaw and nose. A stunning combination of mascara, eyeliner and jade eyeshadow brought out flicks of opalescent light in her eyes.
Keen glances were on her as they always were; other tgirls and crossdressers looked her way, admiring her unmitigated aura of strength and confidence. She found it an endless joy to be not only accepted but appreciated, to be undressed via the gazes of those around her, to star in the deviant thoughts of such a range of people. Finding someone to go home with, or for a fumble in the alley, or any form of quick orgasmic encounter was never difficult; it was choosing whom to have said encounter with that was the trouble.
Who would it be tonight? Last week had been a member of her s****rhood, a fellow tgirl she had met in this very bar, and rather hoped she would not see again; the lady had been an unimaginative bore once their clothes had been shed. Midweek she had met for drinks with a girlfriend with whom she had used to work, the kind whose curiosity had never faded upon learning the truth of Davina’s lifestyle; always one for adventure, Veronica had demanded to be serviced by Davina’s fem-dick, and a walk home through the woods had let to a rough and ready encounter against a sturdy oak tree. Veronica would certainly be a prospect to entertain again; but weekends were out, since she spent most of the time with her husband, who had no clue as the transgender dalliances of his lady wife. Veronica had always been exceptionally naughty.
While scouting the heaving bar for potential tumbles she heard a polite cough and felt a slight nudge against her shoulder.
“Can I buy you a drink?” came a voice that was 80% confidence masking a remaining portion of nerves.
She turned to him; she did not know his name but she recognised him from the scene. He was smartly dressed in pinstripe trousers, a crisp white shirt with a dark waistcoat over it and a skinny black tie. Somewhere in his late twenties, he was handsome, clean shaven with short hair combed immaculately. He looked like an off-the-clock lounge singer from the 50s, an affectation but one that he pulled off rather well. He was broad shouldered with a thin waste, toned biceps straining against the tailored shirt. Calm and confident for the most part, there was still a hint of anxiousness in his manner; this was a secret affair for him, an identity he wore that was totally different from the face he projected during the week. Whether he was single or in some boring relationship was irrelevant, this was how he experimented, played and coddled his secret fantasies.
Many of her the gurls around here had entertained him, or been entertained by him. He was a tourist; seemingly straight, completely avoiding and averting the attention of the gay men, but bundle a brawny member into a dress and makeup and he was like a tgirl-guided-missile.
She eyed him up and down, making sure he noticed, like an art critic surmising the worth of a piece; though her mind had already been made up the moment she had seen that face and those arms, she would tease him a while.
“I’ve seen you around here before,” Davina purred.
“Always looking at me.”
“How could I look anywhere else?” the young man said with a disarming charm.
“I’m not the first maiden in here you’ve ever undressed with your eyes, or those lovely hands of yours, am I?” She rolled her fingertips across the back of his hand up to his forearm, squeezing that shapely bulk.
“It takes a long time to build up the gall to speak to a lady like you.”
“And what sort of lady am I, exactly?”
“The kind a man like me dreams about, and wants to spoil.”
Davina caught the attention of the barman, and she let the man order drinks for them. She sipped her fresh cocktail while never taking her dark eyes off the newcomer; her tongue flicked against the straw then her plush lips closed, cheeks hollowing slightly as she sucked the sweet mix into her mouth.
“And what if I don’t want to be spoiled?” she said, and leaned in to whisper in his ear. “What if I just want to be ruined?”
“That’s equally wonderful,” he said, sipping his own drink.
She gestured with her head across the bar, into the area affectionately known by the patrons as The Alley Way; a narrow corridor that led off from the main area and towards the toilets. It was loud down hear, speakers high above reverberating the bass around the enclosed space. Set in the walls were six alcoves on each side, barely deep enough to fit two people side by side, with high podium table for drinks, and velvet seats set into the walls. There were elegant curtains d****d from the ceiling and tied back at the side of each alcove; though intended purely for decoration it was not unusual to see one of those curtains closed while the occupants of the booth enjoyed each other’s company in rather more intimate ways. Likewise, it was not unusual to see the curtains in their restrained position, the alcove’s guests uncaring who saw them. There seemed to be a tacit agreement between customers and staff; what happened in The Alley Way stayed there, and as long as it did not degenerate into an all out orgy, then the fun was to be had. It was a bugbear amongst her straight friends that such behaviour was never tolerated in their bars and nightclubs.
That’s why you should all come over to our side she would tease.
The first booth they passed was occupied by two twinks, hands snaking under each other’s tight T-shirts as they hungrily devoured their partner’s lips. A the second, the, the curtain was closed, and Davina resisted the urge to peek.
They found a seat in the third. They placed their drinks down and squeezed onto the raised seat, Davina against the wall, her new friend’s body hot against hers. She angled herself in the enclosed space so that her right leg crossed her left and rested on his thigh. Her skirt crept up, revealing the patterned tops of her stockings against bronzed thighs.
“So what’s your name?” she spoke into his ear so to be heard over the bass of the music.
“Eric,” her suitor managed as Davina’s leg rolled gently against his muscular leg. Her hand went to his chest, idly stroking, elegant fingers sliding between the join of his waistcoat to feel the tight flesh beneath. His hand was already on her thigh, brushing against her nylons.
“Nice to meet you, Eric.”
She titled her head back, exposing her neck to him like a willing victim to a hungry vampire; she so loved having her neck kissed. Eric was not an idiot and was easily coerced, sliding his free hand behind her, pulling her close, and peppering that neck with soft kisses. Every few moments his tongue would dart from his mouth and slick the flesh he intended to caress next, like painting the target before attack. She breathed in his delightful, masculine aftershave and delighted as the scent of it mixed with her fruit-scented perfume.
Her hand drifted now to his groin, where his b**st was already straining to get out of its cage. She rubbed it with her palm, which brought sharp, hot breaths from him.
“You like that, Eric?”
“I do,” he gasped, his own free hand now snaking its way down to her legs, squeezing, dividing her thighs and massaging the dark curves beneath her skirt, sliding closer to their mark.
“Slow down, we have a long way to go,” Davina said.
But she knew very soon after there would be not as far to go as Eric had been hoping, because that was the moment when she appeared. The girl she would later come to know as Angel.
Davina had never seen a gurl so strikingly, uniquely beautiful and it made her breath catch. This newcomer wore black hair with a severe fringe, looking like a glamour star or pop singer-cum-celebrity judge. She had not quite yet perfected her makeup; though even and smooth, her cheeks displayed a small excess of rouge, and her eye makeup veered slightly too far into trashy rather than elegant, a look that did not suit her. Her cherry lip balm glistened in the lights of the club. She wore a sequined blouse that exposed her narrow shoulders, and tight leggings that clung to her shapely thighs and calves.
This stranger, brimming with potential, was anxious, scared to approach and seemed even a little embarrassed to be there, as if regretting her decision to grace the bar with her shy presence.
“I want to fuck you all night long,” Eric breathed in her ear, bringing her back to the moment. It was absolutely something Davina would have loved to indulge him in, but she had different prey now. It was simple: she had to have her, and would rest at nothing until it was a reality.
“It will have to be another night,” Davina whispered. “My girlfriend is here.” She flashed her eyes across the booth to the new arrival, whose gaze averted swiftly.
Eric looked disappointed, unsure of how to proceed; he certainly was not going to make a scene, because that would rule out the possibility of ever returning, both to this bar and to the joy under Davina’s skirt.
“No chance of the three of us getting together?” he joked wistfully.
“She’s a lot more shy than I am,” Davina smiled. Her hand had not left his bulge and she could feel it starting to wilt like an untended flower. She squeezed it, ensuring the bl**d halted its retreat.
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t leave you hanging out to dry. Let’s give her a little show.”
She wanted to the new girl to see what she, Davina, was capable of. The girl looked so nervous and timid that she was afraid it might scare her off if she got too graphic, but the fact was that nobody came into The Alley Way without the intention to get a little frisky, or to watch others in the act. If she was indeed a complete freshman and didn’t realise it, then this was to be her first introduction.
Davina carefully unzipped Eric’s trousers; his white CK boxers were stained slightly where his precum had begun oozing from his hidden head. Davina traced her finger across the moist fibres and raised it to her lips, gaze drifting between Eric’s thankful expression and the nervous voyeur. She sucked the salty residue.
Her hands snapped back the waistband of Eric’s shorts, exposing him to the air a brief moment, all seven inches of him, stout and eager; with the curtain open it was still possible to raise the ire of the bouncers in the place were things getting too graphic, so Davina acted swiftly. With feline grace she stood and rolled a leg across him so her back was pressed to his chest, and lowered her ass into his lap, skirt hiked up a moment then lowered to form a shield to their antics.
Eric let out an audible gasp as Davina’s tight thighs clamped around his rod, trapping him there. His hands went to her hips as she writhed blissfully slowly; her stocking tops pressed against his cock, heightening the sensation. She released him a moment and his meat slapped back against her own, brushing against it through the fine silk of her panties. He could gauge the size of her then, long and thick, and she felt hum shudder beneath her.
“Fuck!” he gasped.
Folks passed by on the concourse next to them, on the way to and back from the bathroom. To anybody looking it appeared to she was merely giving him a lapdance, the truth hidden by her skirt and known only to the participants and their audience of one.
The bashful stranger looked away only when others passed, but as soon as they were gone her eyes returned to the show; she was biting her lower lip now, and a hand had lowered to clasp her thigh, gently massaging it, unsure if it should proceed to the hot secret between her legs.
Davina lifted her skirt when there was nobody to see but her new quarry, widening her thighs long enough so she could see Eric’s cock pressed against her skin. Quickly she reached down and tugged at the gusset of her panties, completely exposing herself and letting her thick manhood spill out. Her deft hand stroked Eric’s prick and pressed it against her own, frotting them together as one, her tight balls brushing the root of his cock, heads meeting and smearing each other with transparent fluid.
“Give me your ass,” Eric breathed, burying his face into her lustrous hair, teeth threatening to bite down on her neck. “Please, I need you.”
“Not tonight,” she said, tilting her head back to look into his eyes. Her hand caressed the both of them down below. She winked at him and he felt the stinging but pleasurable snap of elastic against his dick; she had slid his own cock into her strained panties so now they were entwined, skin on skin, veins brushing, helmets colliding as Davina worked her magic.
She ensured the voyeur had seen what was happening then let the skirt fall again, roiling her ass back and forth, her eyes now holding the spectator in thrall; this was for her now. The man behind her was getting his but it was all for the new girl.
Eric’s whole body tightened like a spring stretched to its limits, his powerful fingers digging into her waist and ensuring she could never escape until he was done. His face nestled into her neck and over the bass of the music she heard him roar through clenched teeth as he exploded.
Beneath her skirt she felt his volcano erupt; she squeezed him tighter to prolong the glorious sensation, hot spurts of sticky cum coating her cock and her panties, soaking through, more of his voluminous seed spattering the tops of her thighs and the underside of her skirt. With expert precision she squeezed every drop from him, relishing the sensation of his tender kisses to her neck and exposed shoulders; all the while she focused her stare on Angel, cheeks flushed beneath her makeup with barely contained excitement.
Davina dismounted and Eric quickly buttoned up his trousers. The feel of his jism plastered across her dick and thighs was thrilling, and she was pleased that she had not gotten too swept up in the moment and gone off with him. He extricated himself from the booth and smoothed down his shirt, eyes sated and slumberous.
“That was wonderful,” he said.
“Certainly was,” she said with textbook modesty. “Now you run along.”
Eric looked with deflated jealousy at the girl in the booth opposite, resisted the urge to tell her how lucky she was. “Can I see you again?”
“Oh, I’m sure of it,” Davina cooed. “I’m always around. Until next time.”
With a gentle shove she sent him on his way, off through the bar and back into the night, dreaming of their next encounter. She picked up her barely-touched cocktail and took a sip, completely regained her usual graceful, confident poise, then turned and slid into the booth next to her soon-to-be new friend.
“Good evening, my darling. Now where shall we begin?”
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