Me, Jenn and the guy she wanted to fuck. If my memory serves me his name was Kevin. I had Jenn wear her short black dress so I could discreetly finger...her while she made the introductions and guided the conversation. Our day started two hours earlier making love. Her makeup hid the lingering flush of exertion that came from putting her through her paces.Jenn is my mistress. She is my lover and my slut. We share a rather unique relationship that works well for us. When we first started chatting. ..My spouse found out eventually and while understanding and somewhatsupporting, she would rather I keep my little "hobby" to the confines ofour home. In other words she was accepting as long as no one else knewabout it. Considering what I have read about other transgender marriages,I considered myself lucky. Years of on-again, off-again hormones had givenme a female shape including small breasts with very large nipples and darkaureola and a huge bubble butt and hips. Let me tell you... these. “Who are your people?” he asked her. Lisa saw in his mind where the question had come from. She smiled, not knowing how to tell him.“My people are not native to this land, if that’s what you’re asking,” she replied. “More than that, I’d rather not say. Please don’t be offended. Our secrets keep us alive.”“Then there are not many of you?” he asked.She shook her head, agreeing with him. He cleared his throat.“My people will be harmed if I do not give you to Juan’s brothers,” he explained. “It. "Who's the lucky man this time?" He's that painter from yesterday that I told you about, the man called Mark."Brendan liked to drink coffee with me in the mornings and for some reason — probably because he's a guy and guys for some curious reason love to listen to women telling dirty stories — liked to live vicariously through me, which prompted me to tell him about my adventures in as salacious detail as possible. I guess what also made it better for him was that my tales were true."You are.