She walked into my bar for the first time. I knew just which table she would aim for. CCC, they called it -- the Cheating Cunts Club. CC Clubbers were of any race, class, or looks. Somewhere between elegant and shoddy, noticeable or not, whatever. Nothing identified them but a shared expression. It is not too subtle. It is a tension, a certain set of eyes...
Robin arrived home from work about 5:30 on Thursday, he still felt a little apprehensive about what happened Tuesday night with his sissy friend Patty, and he hoped he might get to talk about it with his wife Morgan. He really enjoyed wearing the corduroy skirt outfit she bought for him, and he loved being a sissy whore for his wife and Patrick, her "boyfrie...
Chapter 24 The corporate jet landed Back in Nova Scotia a stretch limo was waiting. The trip took us a little over an hour drive through the countryside and we turned down our back road to the farm. The closer we got to our home the more stairs we got from people. Of course how often does a stretch limo come through our small communities? We pulled into...
The morning after the night of Kelly's party, I explained to Kelly that what had happened should have never happened. If she was going to be sexually active at all, it should have been with boys her own age, not someone my age. Even though she was over 18, her parents were trusting me to be something of a temporary guardian while she stayed with me and I fel...
I first met Ronnie when he was 16, His father, a Cuban exile, had hired me to customize a 37 foot cruiser, a big, beautiful boat. If you've read my stuff, you know that I'm a boat builder here in Florida. Oswaldo, Ronnie's dad, had come over from Cuba in 1963 and made a fortune as an insurance broker. He'd married a gorgeous Venezuelan lady, and Ronnie was t...
I had just turned eighteen and only had two months of high school left. My marks were good and already had a possible placement in a university where I hoped to get a new start. I was so looking forward to getting away from all the shit that life had forced on me in this little hick town. Usually one of my parents insisted driving me back and forth to schoo...
This story involves gay sex and forced fem, not your thing, move to another story. * I haven't been able to concentrate all day, didn't get anything done. All I can think about is having to go back to the bookstore tonight. I don't know if I can do it but if I don't I'm not sure what he might do. Maybe he just won't contact me anymore and I really don't w...
'I am ready, Sir.' I texted on my cell phone. 'Room 28.' A few moments later, the cell phone pinged and a return message appeared. 'You know what to do -- I'll be there very soon.' I took a shuddering breath and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. An angry frown marred the soft made up sissy face looking back at me, framed as it was by dark straight h...
Like many people, I was bullied in school. I was small, slender and effeminate and, as a result, was often called gay, queer, fag and sissy by school bullies. The fact that what they said was sort of true just made it closer to the bone and more painful to hear. Like many teenage boys, I was going through something of an identity crisis surrounding my body a...
Morgan Ashley was a very pretty lady, not movie star glamorous mind you, but far prettier than anything her wimpy husband Robin would normally attract. Having just stepped out of the shower she was wearing a red mid-wale corduroy bathrobe and her long red hair was wrapped in a towel. She was seated in the living room armchair with a cigarette perched between...