" I thought I would die! He noticed my face getting red, and he told me that I was blushing. I did not know what to do...except to acknowledge that he...was correct, I was interested. I didn't tell him that my dick was so full of blood it was about to explode and cause a serious mess in the coffee shop. "Well," he said, "my name is John like I told you and this is my number," he then wrote down his telephone number on a napkin. "Okay," I said, "I am interested in you...but for purely sexual. ” It was, after all, Christmas Eve. I was lucky to even get a seat. I called Marissa to give her the bad news. She took it in stride. “I’ll meet you at baggage claim, sweetie. Love you.” “Love you, too, babe.” Air kisses and I clicked off. I slept a little bit in the Presidents Club lounge, but an insistent buzzing from my phone finally woke me. Marissa had taken a series of rather explicit selfies showing me what she was doing to get ready for me to “cum home,” as she put it; and I was far. They felt so hot that it was likethey were burning their way out, but they felt good too, like his cockright when it was growing hard.Nate didn't know when he started moaning or how long it had been going onbut there were now two fat breasts hanging off of his chest with no signof slowing down. They squished against each other and started to pressagainst the insides of his arms, there wasn't enough space to contain allthe tit flesh that kept expanding out and out.As they reached their crest. "And you madam. Can I see your passport?" the check-in girl asked.Malcolm ignored her, unused to being addressed so."Madam I need to see your passport!" The check-in woman insisted moreforcefully this time. Malcolm looked up realising that it was him thatshe was talking to. He was really struggling still with remembering thathe was a woman now. Malcolm fished into his handbag and produced thepassport that Rent-a-Self had provided him. The check-in womanscrutinised it quickly with the look of a.