This is a print version of story Dirty girl gets it by angyqtv from xHamster.com
Dirty girl gets it
My heart was beating ten to the dozen as I brought my car to a halt in the loop of the road that was now a lay-by. It was getting on towards dusk but few cars had yet to put on their lights although the odd flash of those that had made me jump slightly.
As agreed, the blue Rover 600 car that my ‘date’ had described in his email was parked facing towards mine but about 20 yards away. A double flash of headlights from it was returned by me as I prepared to get out of the car.
A quick check in the vanity mirror to ensure my hair and make-up were still as good as they were when I had set off some 50 minutes before; they are, and so I reach for the door handle. As I did so I glanced down at my short dress which had ridden up to show the welt of my sheer tan brown stockings. There was just the peek of white ribbon of the suspender and a glimpse of flesh. As the door opened I took a deep breath and holding my legs together swung my bottom on the seat stretching my legs out so my white 5” heeled strappy sandal shoes contacted with the tarmac. They made a dull sounding click as they do.
By now my heart had gone into overdrive. This is the ‘rush’ – the point of no return – the moment that you know there is no going back.
I stand, slightly wobbly from fear, anticipation, excitement and the vertigo effect of the very high and spindly heels. The evening breeze around my knees reminds me to smooth the dress down, not that it is going to hide a great deal since it comes about 6 inches above my knees and has a split up the back which shows off the seams in my fully fashioned stockings. These are the proper 50’s style - made on the old machines, shiny, slinky and very sexy.
I shut the door and lock it and take the precarious journey to the Rover.
As I walk I try to remember all I have been taught. One foot directly in front of the other, sway the hips slightly, head up, smile and be confident. I toss my hair (another trick I have been taught).
In a flash I remember the preparation which had started several hours before.
I had driven to the rundown street in the East End of London where one person fades from existence and another, altogether different one, comes into being. I press the bell and Linda opens the door almost at once. ‘Hi Angy! You’re bang on time aren’t you?’ “Well you know me!” I reply with a grin; “always eager!”
I follow her down the narrow staircase which leads to, for some, the place of dreams, where I will shed my male attire and become the female that co-exists within me. ‘You’ve been spending your money again haven’t you!’ she laughs. ‘I think that’s what unites us girls – shopping! Shopping! Shopping!’
We step into an area where Linda and her colleagues transform men in to women. Some very successfully (like me I hope) and others less so however, I am still amazed at what they achieve with men who simply do not look at all feminine but, as they say, that’s another story.
I am a seasoned visitor and so I am straight into the changing room to throw off my male clothes while Linda starts to open the packages that have arrived for me.
‘Ooh! Angy I love these shoes – where did you get these?’ (Linda is as excited as I am!!)
I shower and re-shave legs, arms, face and neck – taking great care not to nick myself – a little bl**d goes a long way!!. Then, as I have been taught – moisturise, moisturise, moisturise. I have already painted my toenails a delicious colour of satanic red!
I slip on the white ‘G’ string that I have selected from my collection, slipping my hardening penis under my legs; then a white and pink flimsy robe. I have agreed the outfit with Linda who, as a real girl, gives me some advice about various aspects of my choice. I keep my feminine clothes and effects in a large suitcase which Linda stores for me and I route through it selecting various items that I intend to use.
She prepares the silicon false breasts by cleaning them and spraying on the special medical adhesive which will hold them in place so that I can go bra-less. Having applied them carefully she fastens me in to a white waist cincher pulling the laces tight which brings my waist down to a respectable 28 inches. I take out the sheer slinky stockings and carefully put them on knowing how easily they can ladder (I always carry spare pairs when I am out on a trip just in case). Linda checks the seams are straight before I fasten them to the suspenders on the waist cincher. A quick squirt of perfume over me and the underwear brings even yet more femininity.
I have chosen to wear my favourite white and black print dress. This is tight, short sleeved, cut well above the knee, low neck and with a split up the back. Linda assists me into this pulling the full length zip up and fastening the loop at the top. My falsies have pert nipples and these show through the tight fabric over my chest.
I glance in the mirror and already, even without make-up and wig I can see Angy emerging.
‘Full tart I suppose?’ Linda laughingly exclaims – ‘you girls!! I don’t know!’
‘Yes please!’ (Silly question really!)Linda works her wonders with the Dermablend (not that I have strong beard) and the false eyelashes. Plenty of eyeliner and blusher and then Angy stares back at me. Lips then are properly outlined and plumped with a special lipstick which sting a bit as the vitamins in it ensure a more feminine pout.
I have a real hair wig which I use wig tape with and Linda assists me with putting it on thus ensuring only a nuclear bomb or the releasing spray will remove it. The wig is long and butterscotch blond. She fusses with the hair to get it looking natural, brushing, spraying and winding little tendrils into place.
Eventually she is content and I slip on a pair of large hooped gold earrings which although not for pierced ears look as though they are. Linda has found a nice necklace and places it around my neck as I put on some rings, a couple of bracelets and a watch. Then I stick on a small nose stud which I just think looks so tarty.
False nails are secured before I turn to my favourite moment. I put my stockinged foot up on to a chair a place a silver ankle chain around my right ankle. Then the shoes!! They are very high – but hey! I am used to high heels. They are white, strappy and have 5 inch stiletto heels - they make a lovely sight on the end of my tan covered legs my pretty toes showing through the stockings.=
I turn to the full length mirrors which line one wall of the basement.
For those who have never seen or experienced it the change from male to female in this way can be nothing short of mind boggling. Where 40 minutes before a man stood I see this sexy feminine creature gazing back at me. There is practically no way anyone would ever recognize this slinky feminine creature as the man who had walked in some time before.
I parade up and down getting my walk perfect. God I love this!
Linda hands me the denim jacket that I intend to wear just to keep me warm until later. She also hands me a black handbag into which I put some money, mobile phone, lubricant spray, condoms, make-up bag and some flat heeled shoes.
Linda reminds me to take a spare pair of her keys so that I can slink back later to change back in to my alter ego. I am such a regular and trusted customer that she is content for me to come back when she isn’t there knowing that I will ensure that I lock up properly after me.
I pack up all the spare items into the case and looking at Linda say, “the envelope is in here OK?” I am referring to our ‘buddy arrangement’ which is all the details she would need if, God forbid, I don’t come back (a girl has to have an insurance policy). I lock the case so that she, not that she would, will not look for this information unless it is absolutely necessary and I am missing or have been found with my throat slit or something equally horrible! Once I return I will shred the contents until the next time.
Serious stuff over, I say my good byes and head up the stairs to the street. The first time I did this I nearly wet myself as I stepped out in the East End of London but now I don’t turn a hair. Some guys on the other side of the road whistle at me and I just grin and head for the café around the corner for a quick coffee before setting off. They know us girls in there and are very friendly – one guy in particular who works there always chats me up even though he knows my little secret. He may even fancy me I think.
I read a paper that has been left by a previous customer and sip my coffee. I check the time and the route I am going to follow and then, coffee finished, nip to the loo. A quick remake of the lipstick (most of it having been left on the coffee cup) and I head for the door.
“Bye darling!” says my admirer “hope to see you soon” In my specially practiced voice I reply, “Hope so hon!”
It’s a short walk to where I left the car and I practice my walk again to make sure it’s fluid and convincing. I love the way the breeze tickles my normally covered legs. The way the heels click on the payment. Likewise the flash of those red toenails and the swing of the handbag on my shoulder.
I get into the car as lady like as possible but the dress naturally rides up – ‘OK it ‘ill give the lorry drivers and their mates something to ogle at!’
Once in the car, high heels come of and flats go on until I am about 5 minutes away from the ‘meet’ - it’s simply unwise to drive far in these heels
The drive passes almost in a flash. I do however notice how men look at me as I pass or as they overtake. I have a permanent smile on my face because I just love the attention. As I thought, at traffic lights the lorry drivers’ mates get a good view of my legs as they gaze down from on high. About 2 miles away from the predetermined place I pull into a pub car park and slip the flats off and put the heels back on.
These memories pass by me in but an instant as I reach the blue Rover. I can see the man with whom I am to become very intimate looking at me in a lascivious way – I’ve scored - he wants me.
Through the windscreen I can see him smiling as I sashay around to the passenger door and he reaches over to release it.
“Hi hon!” I say breathlessly (and hopefully sexily). “You’re on time Angy – most unlike a girl!” he says as I get in the car. “Well I don’t like to keep my men waiting – who knows you might go - then what would I do?”
By now I have slid my bottom in onto the seat and swung my legs in to the foot well. I am only too aware that the dress has ridden-up revealing my thighs and a glimpse of stocking top. His eyes have not left them since I arrived and the forming bulge in his trousers is testament to the affect a nice leg can arouse.
“So darlin –what now?” he asks. “Well my lover if you drive back the way I have come from you will come to a crossroads with a pub on the corner (about half a mile I guess) – turn right and about a hundred yards on the left hand side you will see a stone bus shelter. Drop me outside and take the car back to the pub car park and walk back to me. OK!”
“OK! Yeh! Let’s do it”
We set off out of the lay-by and up the road. It is now nearly completely dark and the pub lights are clearly visible from some way off. He turns up by the pub and pulls up outside the bus shelter. I have chosen the spot carefully in that there is some light from a street lamp but not too much and the residential houses are screened by trees and bushes.
I slide out of the car carefully as there are some guys just walking past – don’t want too much attention at this stage.
“See you in a mo’ then!” - “OK won’t be long sweetheart!”
Another rush of adrenaline as I leave the safety of the car and make my way in to the dark area in the corner of the shelter.
I watch from the shadows as he turns the car around and heads back down to the pub. I think this location is quite popular for this kind of activity judging by the graffiti and the dank smell. I check up and down the road and take my lubrication pack from my handbag. I slide my G string to one side and insert the nozzle into my arsehole and give a good long squirt. Another squirt as I withdraw it to make sure the area is running with lubricant – I want it in me as soon as possible!!
I peek out again and see him on his way back. I smooth my dress back down and put my hand up against the entrance in a ‘come-hither’ pose with my leg and toes pointing towards him.
My god he’s eager – he grabs me as he reaches the shelter and pushes me back into the darkness grabbing my hands and putting them behind my back. His mouth envelopes mine and his tongue f***es its way into my mouth as he pins me against the wall. He is grunting like a rutting pig as he pulls my dress up to my waist and runs his hands over my legs and stocking tops.
This snogging session lasts for about 3-4 minutes as he probes my mouth with his and feels my underwear and bottom.
“Right you tart get my dick out and let’s see what you can do with that pretty little mouth!!” I position myself on the slatted wooden bench make sure that in the half light he gets a good view of my crotch as I open my legs.
He brings his genital area towards my mouth and I reach for the bulge- caressing and cooing as I rub and hold it through the material of his trousers. After a minute or so I undo the clip at the top and pull the zipper down. A car drives by and the lights illuminate the scene for a split second. We are well behind the doorway so, other than perhaps his back; no one would have seen anything.
His prick engorges as I pull it out from his boxer shorts and I get that lovely cock smell that all girls love. The tip of my tongue makes contact with the ‘eye’ of his dick and I dart it backwards and forwards pushing it into the edge of his foreskin noting with pleasure that he has his head back moaning quietly. Another car passes and for a second we are bathed in reflected light again. So what! I need my man’s organ in me.
I am now putting as much of his erect manhood into my mouth as I can. Slavering over it a using plenty of spittle it is becoming slippery and wet as I get as much into my throat as I can. This is not that easy since it is about 8 inches long and pretty thick. I gag a couple of times and reposition my head to get a straighter line; his hands are behind my head and he is thrusting his penis towards my throat. At last I manage the line up and with a slight ‘pop’ it goes down my throat and my nose touches his belly. He holds me there as I struggle for air and then releases me when I pinch his leg – the sign I need to breathe! In it goes again but much easier this time and I mange to do some ‘figure of eights’ with my nose in his pubic hair.
For the moment he has had enough of my mouth and stands me up, turning me around and pushing me on to the bench on my knees. I have to go kinda sideways since otherwise my face would be right into the wall.
‘Angy I haven’t got a condom!’ - “I have -I put them under my handbag for you.”
I think he was hoping he’d get a bareback but I don’t do that unless I really know someone and he is a casual.
I check that he has put it on and the offer my arse up to him. We still need some more lubrication despite the vast amount I have already put in my hole.
He penetrates me slowly, my sphincter offering a fair bit of resistance despite my wish for it to go in. After a little adjustment of position I feel it slide into me – Oooh! The ecstasy of a man penetrating you there’s simply is nothing like it. He holds me by my waist and puts his foot up on the bench. By now his shaft is sliding in and out as he competently gives me a good fucking. He knows that it is important to push his dick in right up to his balls. I can feel them banging against me. Cars go by and some pedestrians but by this stage we are too far gone to care. What they would see is a stocking clad girl getting fucked – most people will just walk past and won’t get involved.
I suggest that I turn over and he agrees. By now my man pussy is well reamed open and he can fuck me missionary style with my legs up on his shoulders. I love to see him kissing and licking my heels as he pounds away at me. I get hold of my own cock and wank myself at this amazing sight.
I recognise the signs of a man about to shoot his load and he pulls out, my arse giving a sort of wet sloppy plop as he withdraws. The condom is off in an instant and I am on my haunches with my head near his cock. He holds my face to one side and I put my tongue out. After about ten jerks of his prick I get hit on the upper lip and over my left eye as his jizz spurts out. Then the next one squirts on to my tongue; the next my chin and then some little blobs go into my mouth. At that point my own cock decides enough is enough and shoots a load over the floor of the bus shelter. I swallow the cum in my mouth but he hisses, “Don’t wipe it off you have a task to perform you slut!” – This is not part of the plan but hey what the fuck!
“Stand up and pull your dress straight you little whore!” I do as I am told. “Right you have a choice; walk with me to my car at the pub with you mark of shame dribbling from your face – or make your own way back to your own car!” There is no choice really at least if I walk back to the pub I will be e****ted for some of the journey.
He takes my hand and we walk down the pavement towards the pub. My feet hurt a bit but I lean on him as we make our way towards the bright lights. A couple of guys walk past us and stare at my face – Have they seen? Certainly the ribald laughter behind us would indicate they know what we’ve been up to but who cares?
We get back to his car and before I know it we are back near my car in the lay-by.
He puts his arm around me, gives me a long lingering kiss and says, “Thanks Angy that was one hell of a fuck sweetheart!” – What more can a girl ask for from a man?
Story URL: http://xhamster.com/user/angyqtv/posts/19479.html