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I registered in photography class after I bought a new DSLR. There were about 15 of us, 10 guys and 5 ladies. The class was 2 hours every week for 10 weeks. I am a bit reserved and didn’t really speak with anyone during the first class, but I did pick out one lady who I figured was a couple of years younger than me and looked somewhat familiar.

On the drive home, I followed her and was pleasantly surprised that she headed in the same direction. I tried to be as unobtrusive as possible and stayed a safe distance back so she wouldn’t think she was being “stalked.” Turned out that she lived around the corner from me!

At the second class she sat closer to me and during the practice session asked for some assistance. We were all using the same model and at one point she put her hand on mine while holding the camera. It was electric! And I think she knew it! After the class, we walked to our cars and she made small talk asking me what kind of photos I liked and whether my wife shared my passion for photography. She didn’t/doesn’t but I said it is OK since I felt that it was good to have separate interests. She said that her husband didn’t share any of her interests and that she was very frustrated by that. We chatted about that for a while and then she said that she could see that I was a passionate person. She put down her camera bag, put her arms over my shoulders and kissed me. I was so shocked, but kissed her back and held it for a long time. I gasped when she put her tongue in my mouth, but sucked it with abandon. We just stood there in the dark for what seemed like an eternity.

When we finally came up for air, she whispered that she hadn’t had sex in four years! And then she dropped her hand and grabbed my swollen cock. We just stood there like that while I contemplated what the heck I would do next. I had been married for 20 years, never strayed but always fantasized about something like this! Now I had a hot, horny lady in my arms holding my cock, sucking my earlobe and who was essentially begging me to fuck her.

As I was swooning, she relaxed her grip on my manhood and took a step back. I was still holding her around the waist and just tried to regain my composure. We stood there silently and finally I said that we should try to figure out how to make the most of our class-time. We agreed to meet about 15 minutes before the next class.

I drove home in a daze and with a wet spot on my pants.

As we had discussed, the following week we met before the class. Linda said she had followed me home and that she found out that I lived around the corner from her. She suggested that we car pool to class and that would give us the opportunity to get to know each other better. She smiled broadly when she said that. I concurred in a flash. After class that night, I suggested that we get a coffee and talk. She agreed and said that I should follow her.

About a half-mile away though, she pulled into an elementary school parking lot.

I have just had a rather wonderful experience.

For some years now, I have experienced bleeding during bowel movements. It is less likely to occur when I have had an enema, probably because there is less effort involved in evacuating. My doctor has attributed the bleeding during bowel movements to hemorrhoids, which is quite likely given my genetic makeup. But recently it became more severe, and the doctor’s digital test showed internal bleeding also. So, she prescribed a colonoscopy.

A year ago, I had undergone an endoscopy to determine the cause of severe heartburn. That turned out to be a hiatus hernia (I knew that was likely, but the doctor wanted to be sure).

In that experience, I was prepared with a venous drip, which the nurse assured me was only dextrose, but which would make way for other drugs when I needed them. I asked what drugs they had in mind, and was told that there would be drugs to relax my throat muscles, and also to erase memory of the experience afterwards. It was therefore no terrible surprise to me to find myself in the same room where I had started, sort of half wondering why they had brought me back there without having done anything in the room into which I had been wheeled earlier. Suspicions were confirmed when the physician joined me and my significant other and informed me that the problem was, indeed, an inflamed hiatus hernia, which he would prescribe medication for (it didn’t work).

This time, I was given instructions for the days previous to the procedure. No iron supplements for three days before it; on D-day minus one, I was to eat breakfast, but then no solid food until after the procedure for my bleeding during bowel movements.

At noon of D-day minus one, I was to start drinking something called NuLytely, which was supplied in a four-liter container as a powdered mixture. The instructions said to mix it to the full four liters with lukewarm water, but to chill before using for palatability. It was then to be drunk at the rate of one 8-ounce (240 ml) glass every 10 minutes until all gone.

Having been exposed to something called an Evacu-kit some years ago, I wasnÍt looking forward to this stuff. But it turned out to be only slightly salty in taste, and not difficult to take. By the time I was through with it, some two hours later, I had the feeling that I had just taken an oral enema. I was passing fluid at a great rate – but without discomfort. That evening, after the fluid flow had stopped, I took a four-quart enema, which felt real good. The following morning, I took another – this one was specified in the instructions. My SO took me to the hospital – the instructions said that I would definitely NOT be able to drive home after the procedure. We arrived an hour before the appointment time (the instructions had said 45 minutes), and I was ushered into a “recovery” room to prepare. for my bleeding during bowel movements procedure.

Because this section of the hospital was being renovated, space was scarce, and I discovered one other man in the room with me. After I had undressed and put on the hospital gown, another man, fully clothed from the waist down, was wheeled in. He had apparently just had an endoscopy – the nurses were chuckling about the fact that 100 (milligrams?) of Demerol had not fazed the young man, and he was still wide awake. The nurse said that much would have put her out for a week.

He didnÍt seem too upset about the experience, however, and was quite interested about what was going on around him. He asked me what I was there for, and flinched when I told him it was for bleeding during bowel movements. The nurses proceeded to connect the IV tubing to me again. I again asked what it was for, and was told the same thing as I had been the previous time. I objected – told them I did NOT want to be drugged, but wanted to be able to be cooperative and aware of what was going on. They suggested I talk to the doctor about it.

My gurney was wheeled into the Same Day Surgery unit, and the doctor appeared. I expressed my concern about medication, and he wanted to know why I didnÍt want it. I told him I was unhappy about having been drugged on the previous occasion; that I wanted to be aware after the fact of what had happened, and, “well, I just donÍt want it.” He smiled, and said, “Well, weÍll hold down on it.”

The gurney was wheeled between an elaborate cabinet which I would love to have examined more closely, and a rack with electronic equipment on it, including a video display tube about five feet from the floor. Projecting from the cabinet was a black tubular appliance, about 2 or 3 inches across where it attached, and with one or two clear plastic tubes connected to it. It tapered quickly to about five-eighths of an inch, and the rest of it was coiled up on top of the cabinet. Before I was able to grasp any more of the situation, I was told to turn over on my left side, and to pull my legs up somewhat, leaving my butt at about right-angles. From this position, I could see a cabinet on the other side of the room, with a mate to the appliance behind me, not attached to anything, and stretched out to its full length. It looked to be about six feet long. The lights dimmed, and the video display lit up dimly. The gurney was “jacked up” about four or five inches, to get me to a more convenient height. I heard the doctor say, “Give him 50.” I felt the effects of the Demerol immediately, and just as immediately asked them to hold back on it – which they did. I was in a marvelous position to watch the video – they had been considerate enough to let me keep my glasses on – and as I watched it suddenly went from a vague brown color to a red blur. At the same time, I felt the scope tube press gently on my anus. I relaxed to let it in. The red blur continued for a moment, and suddenly materialized into a clear image as I felt air come into my rectum. For a moment, I continued to relax my sphincters, and then realized that I was farting cheerfully, which was probably not polite, to say the least! I tightened up.

The movement of the tube in my anus was delicious. It was cool, but not cold, and was probably covered with some sort of Teflon finish, which made lubrication unnecessary. On the screen, I could see with brilliant clarity the pinkish-white tissues of my rectum as the tube went in. I suspect that there was some mechanism to deflect the end of the scope, so that it didnÍt run into corners – at least, I rarely saw anything that I would have identified as the sigmoid flexure, or the sharp corner where the descending colon suddenly becomes the transverse colon. But the picture was astonishingly clear, and it was fascinating to watch as the colon expanded ahead of the scope, responding to the air injection which I could hear and feel being so deftly administered. Periodically, the progress would stop, as though the doctor wanted to look more closely at something. But the light movement of the tube where it entered my anus kept up, driving me nearly into ecstasy. And the images on the screen continued to intrigue me. Throughout, the doctor and nurses (there were two, I think) kept up a line of inane chit-chat, which had nothing to do with the situation at hand. I would have liked to have had the doctor give me a sort of travelogue – “thatÍs the sigmoid flexure; weÍre now entering the transverse colon,” etc., but I was left to my own imagination and what I knew about the anatomy I was looking at. After some time had passed, the doctor said, “We can give you more medication if you want it.” I immediately shot back, “Oh, no, please donÍt!” He responded, “YouÍre a brave man!” I am still wondering if my long experience with enemas, colon tubes, and the like (of which the doctor had no knowledge), had conditioned me to the point where something which would make an ordinary person very uncomfortable didnÍt bother me at all. But yes, I could feel the movement up through my body, and yes, I could also feel the air expanding my gut – but both sensations were entirely pleasant to me.

At one point, I did feel a strong sudden pressure upward against my diaphragm, although I couldnÍt see anything on the screen nor feel anything at my anus to explain it. The only thing I can surmise is that a bend of the scope was pressing there. Now I know how a pregnant woman must feel when her baby kicks! I was so fascinated that I forgot to breathe, and I guess it must have shown on the monitors they had connected to me. One of the nurses asked me to breathe deeply. At first, I thought she was expecting me to use my diaphragm to massage the bowel – something that any enemaphile is used to doing – but then I realized that her concern was regarding a lack of oxygen, and started breathing normally. The doctor asked me to turn on my back. I did, reflexively letting my legs fall, as I remained transfixed with the image on the screen. This brought laughter, and instructions to “lift your legs back up,” which, of course, I did immediately. After a few minutes, he asked me to turn back on my side, and one of the nurses came around in front of me to press on my abdomen, just below the sternum. After a while, she pressed on the left side, where the descending colon would be. I assumed these to be maneuvers to keep the appropriate portion of the plumbing collapsed to guide the tube of the scope better.

All the while, we were regaled by one of the nurses discussing her time-share on Cape Cod! At this point, I began to see little pockets of fluid collecting in the recesses of my colon on screen. Quickly, there came the sound of suction as they were drained by an intake just out of sight behind the lens of the scope. I muttered something about not having completely drained myself. The doctor said that was perfectly okay, he could take care of it. After I saw the end of the colon – sort of a blind alley – the tube suddenly started retreating rather rapidly. I was a little disappointed that I had not been able to identify the pylorus. I could see the colon collapsing as the air pressure dropped off. When the tube had come almost all the way out – I could feel it in my rectum – it stopped for a moment, to give us a good view of something large and bluish-purple on the wall of the rectum. Then the tube slipped out completely I looked at my watch – the whole thing had taken just exactly half an hour. The gurney was lowered to its original height, and I was told to lie on my back as I was wheeled out of the surgery. Back in the recovery room – which no longer had any other patients in it – the nurse started taking my vital signs, and seemed quite surprised that I was doing so well. When the doctor came in a few minutes later, I asked him if my Significant Other could join us while the doctor gave me his evaluation.

When the two came back a few minutes later, my SO was definitely white in the face. I realized later that he was convinced that the doctor had bad news! Nevertheless, all he could find fault with was the hemorrhoid that we had seen just inside the rectum; he said he would recommend a suppository that my primary doctor could prescribe, to shrink the thing and rid my bleeding during bowel movements.

Thirteen inches was bigger than I thought. The feeling in my pussy as his huge white cock stretched my pussy as far as it would go. I thought it would tear as he pounded the shit out of me.

He picked me up in his strong arms and flipped me over. My huge tits swayed back and forth as I landed with my ass up. He slid his huge white cock in to my my cunt.

AAAAhhhh I sigh as he penetrates me. In…Out….In….Out.

I took his full thirteen inches, his whole huge white cock in up to the balls as he dumped his hot seed in to my hungry cunt.

Now I just have to work on my deepthroating ……

Ooooooh. That feels so good.

Oooh.

The chilled cucumber is making my soft pussy quiver as I pound the homemade sex toy in and out of my tight pussy. I can feel every little bump, every little crevice along the surface of my new play thing. Fuck Ted, I thought to myself. He can stay at work all night for all I care.

Just a few minutes before I had read online how to create my own home made sex toy using items in my fridge. I thought what the fuck and decided to give it a try. Now here I lay, my long, thin legs hanging over the edge of my bed and an 8″ cucumber sticking out of my pussy. The juices of my wet slit giving the homemade sextoy a shining coat that glistens in the light.

My toes curl and I let out a soft moan as I make myself cum. Mmmm I muffle under my breath.

Winded and fully satisfied, I place the cucumber back in its rightful spot in the fridge. It is no longer my homemade sex toy, but instead has become part of Ted’s dinner. When he finally gets home that is.

Take me. Take control of me….

After I am naked you lay me down on the huge four-poster. You take a smooth, silky, emerald green scarf and tie my wrists together. Holding my arms above my head, you whisper to me, “Submit.”

“No,” I say defiantly. I am in an uncooperative mood this evening. You kiss me gently on the nose and say, “You’re in no position to deny me anything. You will submit to me–willingly or unwillingly.” “Ha!” I snort. “Make me.”

You grin wickedly. “If you say so, m’dear.” And then your teasing, tickling tongue is at my throat, licking and flicking over the tender, pulsing artery just underneath my skin. Then your teeth, nibbling gently–then a little rougher. I suppress a groan, try to keep my hips still. Your cock is hard, poking aggressively against my thigh as you hold me down and control me.

Your mouth then trails lazily over my collarbones, and then down, eager to capture a dusky nipple between your teeth. Your fingers tickle my ribs through my trembling skin. I giggle a little. You suck my nipples hard between your lips, and this time I cannot quash the sounds of pleasure emanating from my throat. “Victory!” you hiss, forcing open my thighs with an insistent knee, controlling my sex and having your way.

“Not even,” I say through clenched teeth. My hands strain at the silken bonds. My body steels itself against the onslaught of your desire. And still you attack: your tongue now exploring the recesses of my belly button; your hands underneath me, kneading my soft, round bottom. “Submit,” you command again. “I control you slut“.

“No,” I reply, my voice shaking. My resolve is weaker now as your strong, nimble fingers trace lazy figure-eights on my inner thigh. “You are quite the irreverent Little Miss Thang this evening,” you murmur, continuing to stroke my thighs. Your breath is hot against the thick hair of my mons. My core is throbbing, liquid, on the verge of exploding. Tiny colored stars arrange and rearrange into showy constellations in front of my eyes. You continue to stroke and breathe against me. A tiny “please” escapes from my lips before I can bite it back.

“Beg pardon?” you query mischievously, lightly brushing your thumbs across my clitoris. There is laughter and a hint of triumph in your voice. My body quivers in torturous pleasure as you control my sex and my body.

I try to arch my hips towards your touch, but you pull your fingers away. “Say it,” you command me. I open my mouth to utter the phrase, to say the words that will guarantee me explosive ecstasy. But a final swell of rebellion takes control of me and I shake my head. “No,” I say again.

Gently, very gently, your tongue arcs out to flick over my clit. The tiny colored stars condense, implode, and then explode, raining down over all five of my senses. “I submit, I submit,” I moan over and over again, my body bucking against the silk that holds me captive. You grab my hips to hold me still and inflict your exquisite torture again, and again, and again….

“The minister is fresh out of the seminary and welcomes any practice he can get,” my wife said. “mel is going to be the best man, and Carla is going to be your attendant.

I couldn’t believe she had told our friends about my crossdressing. How could I ever face Mel again? Especially as a hot ass tranny.

The night of the wedding, Lulu came in to see how I was doing getting dressed. I was surprised to see Carla and her wearing matching dresses.

“Gee, I thought you’d be wearing a tux,” I said, “not dressed like the maid of honor.”

“Oh, no,” Lulu laughed. “I said Carla was your attendant I’m your maid of honor.”

“But you are the groom!” I exclaimed.

“I can’t very well marry another woman. Remember you’re the hot ass tranny crossdresser in this family, not me.”

“Then who’s the groom?” I was getting worried now.

“Just like a woman to be nervous on her wedding day,” Lulu said turning to leave. “See you down front. Don’t forget to say your `I do’s” nice and loud.”

Carla walked over to me, kissed me on the cheek and said, “You are a very beautiful bride.” Then, barely holding back the laughter, she added, “I’m sure you’ll make him very happy. Enjoy your honeymoon, you really are a hot ass tranny and deserve some great sex.”

What did she mean by that? I wasn’t nervous now. i was just plain scared. What had Lulu cooked up this time? Just then I heard the music begin, my cue to start down the isle. When I looked down front, there stood Carla and Lulu, smiling at me. On the other side stood Mel, his mouth was wide open. I was hoping that meant he was Impresses with how I looked. I nearly fainted when I saw the man next to Mel. He was about six feet tall, quite nice looking, and a total stranger to me. Where had Lulu gotten this guy? Did he know who or what I was?

As I got to the front, I looked at my wife, handing her my flowers. She whispered, “I love you.” Then I turned as the minister began talking. He was so young. He looked as if he was fresh out of high school. I though, wow he would make such a hot young tranny. He instructed us to face each other and repeat the vows. I looked at this guy standing next to me. He looked deeply into my eyes and smiled warmly. My knees almost gave way. He was holding my hands and saying, “I do.”

“Lulu,” I thought, “when are you going to call this off?” I heard myself say a week “I do.” My god, what about the kiss? m I supposed to kiss this guy? I’ve never kissed a guy in my life. Just then he lifted my veil. I felt my head tilt up and my eyes close. I felt something warm on my lips, softly at first then with steadily increasing pressure.

His arms were around me, pulling me tight against him. He was so strong. My hand was on his back and I was pulling him closer. I was really kissing him, and what a kiss! Then the music started, and everyone was talking at once. Lulu was hugging me, telling me how proud she was of me, asking how I felt. Before I could answer, Carla gave me a kiss, saying what a beautiful wedding it was.

Then Mel came over, saying he wanted to kiss the bride, and gave me a big kiss on the lips, and said, “Hey, a girl only gets married like this once.” he seemed so accepting of me being a shemale.

Lulu was saying, ” Come on, newlyweds, let’s cut the cake and open the presents.”

My “groom,” who I learned was named Ron, took my hand and led me up the isle. On the way he said, “You’re very beautiful. I’m glad I got to be a part of this.” Then he stopped and kissed me again. I was surprised that I was not repulsed by this and in fact enjoyed kissing him back. “Very funny, Lulu,” I thought. “Don’t make jokes like that in front of everyone.” Just then Ron gave my hand another squeeze, and I blushed.

We all laughed as we went through the typical cake- cutting-and-feeding ritual. Then came the gifts. Mel and Carla gave us a bottle of champagne. Ron said, “She may need that.” Then Lulu gave us each a box. Inside mine I found an envelope and a beautiful long flowing nightgown which I was told to hold up. Then I opened up the envelope and read out- loud the note inside.

“Every girl dreams about her wedding and fantasizes about her honeymoon. To complete your trip into womanhood, I am giving you a honeymoon. You and Ron are registered at a hotel for the next four days. Your clothes and everything you need are already there. Have a good time. And don’t worry, all girls are nervous on there wedding night, even hot ass trannies.”

I looked to see Mel and Carla smiling and Lulu wearing a big grin. Then I looked at Ron who was also smiling. He then showed me what was in his box: a large tube of KY lubricating jelly!”

Lulu whispered in my ear, ” I want to hear all about it when you get home, you hot ass tranny.”

I had neve had a hard cock in my shemale ass before, but now was a great time to start.

I am a cross-dresser who has for years enjoyed looking and acting like a woman. Lulu, my wife, started to enjoy this side of me once she discovered how easily she could dominate me. She likes to expose my transvestism to unsuspecting souls.

At first it was something simple like holding panties up to my waist while shopping for lingerie. But it has progressed to her telling me to buy specific items like a pink bra, a red garter belt or a black teddy. She also insists that I tell the sails clerk that the items are for me. I will be severely punished if I don’t comply, so when we go into the lingerie department and asked what we’re looking for, I will answer, “A pink bra. I wear a 36A.” It never fails to raise eyebrows. I love the embarrassment of it all. She loves it too, being a shemale wife.

My wife loves to embarrass me outdoors too. We will go to a public tennis court with me dressed in a white shirt and shorts with bright pink panties and a bra that will clearly show through underneath. It never fails to provoke stares. I have also gone to the tennis courts wearing a tennis dress with full makeup and a blonde wig. I’m quite convincing when dressed as a girl, so this doesn’t bother my game. But what does bother it is the fact that I’m also wearing tight nipple clamps and have a butt plug in place.

Being a shemales wife, Lulu thinks I should experience womanly feelings and adventures as much as possible. So in bed I must be ready to accept her strap-on dildo and open my mouth so she can feed me my semen when I come. I also make regular visits to a beauty saloon for wig styling and facials.

A real surprise came a few weeks ago. Our tenth anniversary was fast approaching, and we had talked about exchanging vows again. We had arranged to hire a minister in a small chapel and have another couple, our best friends, stand up for us. This would be on a Wednesday night, and we would take off the rest of the week for a second honeymoon. I should have known nothing is as expected when Lulu is involved.

She called me at work and told me to meet her at a bridal shop later on so we could get fitted. I thought she meant that I would be renting a tux. But when I arrived at the shop she was inside talking to the owner. they gave me a strange smile when I walked in. The owner looked at me and said, “Yes, I have something will fit him perfectly.”

She disappeared into the back and before I could ask Lulu what was going on, the owner reappeared carrying a long white wedding gown. She instructed me to follow her to the changing room. My wife followed us carrying a bag which, I soon discovered, contained my wig, makeup, underwear and padding. I was informed that this time, I was to be the bride! “It’s something every woman wants to experience and you’ll be a gorgeous shemale wife,” said Lulu.

Soon I was standinf in front of a full-length mirror looking at the blushing bride: me. Then I remembered the wedding plans. “What about the minister?” I asked. “He will never agree to this. And what about Mel and Carla?”

I am a cross-dresser who has for years enjoyed looking and acting like a woman. Lulu, my wife, started to enjoy this side of me once she discovered how easily she could dominate me. She likes to expose my transvestism to unsuspecting souls.

At first it was something simple like holding panties up to my waist while shopping for lingerie. But it has progressed to her telling me to buy specific items like a pink bra, a red garter belt or a black teddy. She also insists that I tell the sails clerk that the items are for me. I will be severely punished if I don’t comply, so when we go into the lingerie department and asked what we’re looking for, I will answer, “A pink bra. I wear a 36A.” It never fails to raise eyebrows. I love the embarrassment of it all. She loves it too, being a shemale wife.

My wife loves to embarrass me outdoors too. We will go to a public tennis court with me dressed in a white shirt and shorts with bright pink panties and a bra that will clearly show through underneath. It never fails to provoke stares. I have also gone to the tennis courts wearing a tennis dress with full makeup and a blonde wig. I’m quite convincing when dressed as a girl, so this doesn’t bother my game. But what does bother it is the fact that I’m also wearing tight nipple clamps and have a butt plug in place.

Being a shemales wife, Lulu thinks I should experience womanly feelings and adventures as much as possible. So in bed I must be ready to accept her strap-on dildo and open my mouth so she can feed me my semen when I come. I also make regular visits to a beauty saloon for wig styling and facials.

A real surprise came a few weeks ago. Our tenth anniversary was fast approaching, and we had talked about exchanging vows again. We had arranged to hire a minister in a small chapel and have another couple, our best friends, stand up for us. This would be on a Wednesday night, and we would take off the rest of the week for a second honeymoon. I should have known nothing is as expected when Lulu is involved.

She called me at work and told me to meet her at a bridal shop later on so we could get fitted. I thought she meant that I would be renting a tux. But when I arrived at the shop she was inside talking to the owner. they gave me a strange smile when I walked in. The owner looked at me and said, “Yes, I have something will fit him perfectly.”

She disappeared into the back and before I could ask Lulu what was going on, the owner reappeared carrying a long white wedding gown. She instructed me to follow her to the changing room. My wife followed us carrying a bag which, I soon discovered, contained my wig, makeup, underwear and padding. I was informed that this time, I was to be the bride! “It’s something every woman wants to experience and you’ll be a gorgeous shemale wife,” said Lulu.

Soon I was standinf in front of a full-length mirror looking at the blushing bride: me. Then I remembered the wedding plans. “What about the minister?” I asked. “He will never agree to this. And what about Mel and Carla?”

As he started a rapid-bucking pace between my legs, I decided that it was true what they said about pussy being elastic. I had to have an elastic box to take that huge trucker dick. He kept plunging like a wild stallion, filling and refilling my cunt with a piston of steel-hard horsepower. I throbbed and burned enroute to my third miraculous orgasm. It came when he tightened in an incredible orgasm of his own. That extra millimeter of huge trucker cock triggered an explosion of pleasure which engulfed my trembling body with a starburst of ecstasy. Then it was all over.

We lay trembling and weak in sexual relief for a few moments, and then redressed. We didn’t speak. It seemed rather embarrassing now that we were finished, so we hurried our dressing and then made our way back to the parking lot. He squeezed my hand once before he disappeared into the night, and I remember his parting words. “Catch you on the flip flop. My handle is Night Runner.”

I didn’t mind the abrupt ending. I knew that I would indeed see this man on the flip flop, and I intended to make a habit of catching him on the flip flop. That truckers huge cock will be enough to keep me up and going for a few more days. Even a female trucker needs to let off a little steam now and then, and that gorgeous trucker with the huge cock sure made this one night stand worth every second.

If I live to be a hundred, I will never figure out how strange life can be. I’m a female truck driver which isn’t the most common thing in the world, but even stranger is the fact that I am quite attractive. I’m five feet two inches, weigh one-hundred and fifteen pounds, have blond hair and blue eyes. Every time I meet a nice man, he asks me the same question men ask hookers. “How did a nice girl like you get into a dirty business like this?” To top it all off, I have four huge brothers who are also truck drivers, and who have taken it upon themselves to protect my virtue at all cost. So you can see why it might be hard for me to get laid, especially by a good man.

I remember one man in particular. It is almost comical. He buzzed me on the C.B. one afternoon while I was on a California run, saying,” Breaker for the good-lookin’ blond that drives the silver rig. If you’re within hearing, meet me at midnight at the Stop and Slop on Exit 89.” His voice sounded nice, and I decided to meet him. Like I say, it isn’t the easiest thing for me to meet men in my profession. So, I arrived promptly at midnight, and guess who had beaten me there: two of my four goonish brothers. It took all the convincing I could muster to convince these boys to refrain from smashing the man to a pulp, but eventually I did.

As they left, I turned to apologize, thinking that the man wouldn’t have anything to do with me now that my brothers had threatened his life. I was disappointed because the truck driver was very attractive. I started to speak, and he reached up and touched my lips with his fingertips. It was like an electric shock struck my body, and we suddenly melded into one another’s arms and, from there, in to my rig.

I don’t know what happened to me, but somehow I couldn’t resist his advances as he groped my tits, and mauled my pussy through my jeans. I hadn’t had a one night stand for at least a year, so this fling would be just what I needed. The next thing I knew, my pants were down around my ankles along with my panties. I felt like a schoolgirl as he buried his face in my bush, and I was burning all over as he tounged my clit furiously. I grabbed two handfuls of his hair and rode his mouth to ecstasy and back.

I climaxed twice before he lifted from my snatch and planted a pussy-drenched kiss on my slack lips. I was putty in his grasp as he produced his cock and found the hungry opening to my cunt. His bulging cockhead was almost too big, but he finally managed to break through the initial resistance and slide inside my heated box, once past the outer ring. I nearly screamed as he stretched me beyond my previous imaginable limitations; it was the biggest cock I had ever had in any of my one night stands before, maybe even my entire life.