By Reading this, you acknowledge that it's intended for adults only, like the rest of the work of tinafosteruk@gmail.com
If you're not old enough to read this, "why are you here?? Go away..." To those who enjoy reading these, thank you for your attention. It's appreciated. Do get in touch. I like the feedback.
Getting the few fan letters I've had from my stories, both true, fiction and, somewhere inbetween, I'd looked in my account, half-expecting to find it empty of new messages, as usual; but there was one, waiting for me, from a fella named Gregg.
Now Gregg had complimented me on my stories, and also added that he had worked out where I lived, which I thought a tad spooky. But, I'd been pleased enough by his ever-so flattering message, which I'd carried on reading.
He was from an area of outer Liverpool, Bi and married, and thought I sounded horny. Little did I know then, just what that email would lead to.
But, I had messaged him back, with a little bit of a tease: and, a photograph. And, although I'm not really passable, it's the wearing of those clothes; wearing those pretty things, that gives me a sense of being whole.
Well, that and I liked my hole to be filled. [Grins] And, for quite awhile I'd thought I'd here no more from him.
Then one day, about a week after the first message, I got the second: "sorry about that, Internet connection down. I liked the photo. Are you still interested?"
`Was I still interested?' Well, how was that for an understatement?
I messaged him back, within seconds of finishin reading the message, telling him yes, I am,' and enclosing another picn then waited.
Well, I'd been left guessing what it was he didn't like, as a week passed, and there was no response.
Then one morning in the autumn, as the leaves were just turning to a golden brown, a letter dropped through the letterbox and, onto the welcome mat. I knelt down and picking up the A5 size brown envelope I slit the sealed end with a convenient wooden knife.
There was text, above and below a picture printed in the centre of the A5 size paper. The photograph was a copy of the one I had sent to Gregg; yet obviously, this had been printed out, in hard copy.
So, I began to read, more than a little concerned as to who had sent it: and how did they get my address: `as you can see, I know where you live. But that won't be a problem, if you do as I say.'
With my heart beating faster, through fear and arousal, I continued to read on: `The wife is away this weekend and I want some fun. You're going to meet me and I'm going to enjoy your body.'
I placed the letter down, as I got to the bit with the details about `where and when' and picked up the envelope.
Like the text inside, the address printed by a PC, so it was impossible to decipher anything about the sender from its writing.
And for a good while, I paced the house, as I dealt with the ramifications of all I'd read. I had no choice really, but do as I had been instructed.
I had plans; plans that entailed a train journey to Liverpool, to meet him at Lime Street, to go back with him, if we got on, at the flat that belonged to a friend of his, who was amenable to Gregg's dalliance's.
So come Friday night I'd hardly slept, so intent had been on finding the right panties to wear over my on my freshly shaven body. Then come the morning, my first action after getting washed and cleaning my asshole, was to lube myself well, in preparation for the touch of my first lover in a long while, I had hoped.
As it was, I hadn't had too long to wait. Gregg had met me at the station, as he'd said he would. And, though he was not the most handsome guy I've known, or who has fucked me, I had felt so damn horny, as he'd leaned out of his car window, to look at me, his brown eyes staring deep into mine.
"You ready, Wendy?" he'd said with a smile and, I'd just grinned, sheepishly.
`Ready?' I'd been so ready, if he didn't take me soon; I'd have gone straight home, lubed myself up further and, fisted myself to oblivion.
As it was, I hadn't had to.
We'd got to his mates and, I'd got out, my bag of `pretty things' slung over my shoulder, with more than a butterflies dancing in my stomach.
I'd so-wanted to please Gregg, `n show him that dressed en femme, I could really please any desire he might conjure up.
Finally he had joined me at t he end of the drive-way and with a smile, he had said to me, "She thinks I'm at the match, so we've got ages. Alright for you, slut?"
Now it must be obvious to anyone who reads my stories just how much of a slut Tina really can be. And, my time with Gregg would be no exception. Of that I was sure.
"I'm definitely alight with that," I'd assured him, eyeing the bulge in his trousers, which definitely promised more than a few interesting hours: or so I secretly hoped.
He went to the bathroom first and, having had his pee, he poured us each a stiff vodka and coke and then passing me my drink, Gregg looked at me and said, "Cheers!"
We clinked glasses and I knocked mine back. I was nervous and although I was feeling very horny, I was anxious about the coercion involved here, there was just something so sweetly sordid about it all, something so very exciting.
Then with his free hand Gregg caressed my face and said to me, "Go and get changed. I want my first fuck, soon."
So I went to the bathroom to slip on the gear I'd brought with me, my slut-outfit. N first I rolled on a pair of slip-ons, worn with white panties under a short pleated tartan skirt, then pulled on a white shirt and staring into the wall mirror, checked my look'.
And though I'd chosen not to use much make-up, I did make-up my lips, to make them look kissable; and then I left the bathroom.
As I left the bathroom, hoping my outfit would please, I almost walked into Gregg, who had been stood there, waiting for me.
"Thought you'd fallen down the toilet, you were so long..." he said to me, standing back a little, a grin on his face a mile wide.
"I wanted to look nice, for you," I told him, toying with the hem of the short tartan skirt as I spoke.
I couldn't help but wonder how my time with Gregg would play out. The fellow had already intimated his needs; and mine did not seem to fit into his plans, at all.
`But,' as long as he gets what he wants, he'll be okay I guess?' I'd considered, as I followed him dutifully; and I'll swear down, my well-lubed sphincter in anticipation of Tina being his whore.
"Shall I close the door?" I asked quietly, as Gregg finished undressing and made himself comfortable in the middle of the large double bed, his right hand quickly finding his erect, which stood proud, already leaking pre-cum.
He stopped what he was doing and, crossing his arms behind his head, looked at me and said with a grin: "Yes, you do that. After all, I don't want my whore running out on me. Now, do I?"
There was that word, again: `whore.' I was his whore and, liked the idea.
"Oh, I wouldn't do..." I began, only to be cut-off in mid-flow, with an airy wave of his right-hand.
"Close the door, eh? Then press `play' on the CD player over there," he instructed.
So, suddenly feeling very self-conscious about the length of my short skirt and, the hold-up's, I'd closed the door and pressed play', as I'd been told and turned back to face Gregg as The The opened up with, Infect me, with your love...'
"Now dance," he barked at me.
And though I don't dance, I'd made an effort, swinging my hips as I moved to the music.
"Screw that!" He exclaimed, "I hope you're a better fuck than you are a dancer."
I stopped danced, thoroughly humiliated by his words, looking down to my toes. Gregg patted the side of the bed, to his right.
"C'mon," he told me, "come join me."
But, as I attempted to lie on the bed as if to cuddle him, Gregg snapped at me, "Fuck that slut, what makes you think I want you holding me? Face the window and away from me, whore!"
There was that word again; and deep inside, I rippled with pleasure.
I turned onto my left side, waiting to hear what he wanted of me next.
"That's better," he growled, "Now I don't have to see your face, as I fuck your ass like a cunt..." And so saying, Gregg lifted the back of the skirt over my buttocks.
"Perfect..." he drawled, as he began to spank my flesh; and boy, his hand felt heavy, as he landed smack after smack, on my left buttock.
Finally he stopped and snarled at me, "Now get your panties off, I want to get to your cunt..."
It was obvious what he thought of me, I mused. And, I slid the pretty panties over my arse-cheeks, down my thighs, then off my long hose-clad legs.
`My cunt? Whore?' His words were getting me tremulous with my Need, to be used.
"Now keep your leg up!" He instructed, slapping my left thigh, to illustrate what he meant.
And obviously, I did as he bid, determined to be the willing whore he wanted.
Raising my left leg and bracing it with my foot against my right knee, I gave Gregg the access he wanted.
I hoped.
"Is that all right?" I asked, in a small timorous voice. It was well apparent to me that the subbie-side of me had come to the fore; an, I lay there, nipples hard and sphincter twitching with anticipation once more.
"It'll do," he murmured, as first one then two fingers entered my thankfully well-lubed hole. He was widening me, readying my ass pussy for the main event.
"Gonna fuck you well," he told me, his chest against my back, his lips just inches away from my left ear.
And, though I wanted to touch myself, I didn't; after all I was there for his satisfaction, not mine.
"Oh yes, please..." I moaned as those insistent fingers continued to drive back and forth. And, all the while I could feel his six to seven inches of real manhood pressed against the back of my thigh, half clad in hose.
`N he gripped my right shoulder, biting my left shoulder, pressing his body against mine and, driving those fingers deeper, turning them inside me and I groan loudly.
All of sudden he withdraws those fingers, leaving me empty and panting.
Gregg holds me and bites me again, pressing the head of his proud erection against my tight lubed rosebud. And as he pulled me toward I pushed back and my hole opened for him.
As I felt his length slide through my slippery sphincter the pressure followed. He was bigger than I'd first thought: and I clutched the mattress as I felt that fullness and, then Gregg was in me and he froze.
"You know what, slut...?" he whispered into my ear, his tone of voice suddenly getting very mean: and the grip, he had on me got tighter: "I know all about your dressing up... and, you being a horny sissy slut..."
He gripped my hips and slowly began to pump his length back and forth and, I couldn't help but groan through my gritted teeth.
His thrusts got faster, as he spit out the words: "and right now, you're in a room with a webcam and, everyone watching my page now has paid to watch this. Heck, thaat's what the sites all about `ExposeTeeveeSluts.Com'!!"
Gregg's voice became exultant, as he fingers but into my flesh, as his shaft seemed to get bigger, a moment, then I felt him cum, shooting his seed deep inside my hole.
And humiliated as I was, I could feel that I was damp and sticky down in my panties. I had cum myself.
Then I lay there, beneath him, our bodies sticky with sweat and the rest and, I find myself wondering if my lipstick was smudged, and `would he kiss me?'
I wanted to be, needed to be kissed: `Would he kiss me, or just fuck me?'