It maynot be sold or reproduce for profit of any kind.Send all comments or suggestion to [email protected] was 17, in high school in San Diego cou...try. At that time, the middle70s, cross dresser were a sub culture, all were in the closet orperformer. You were labeled a fag or queer, and if you marked one of theother you were a out cast or worse.I was dressing up every chance I could, working for my mom, at the motelshe own. I made good money and on the nights that I wanted off, if itwas a. I turned her chair around, put a finger below her chin and lifted her face upwards, “Astha honey, you are the prettiest girl I know, with the exception of Shoheliji. I’d happily even marry you if I could” I said, trying to make her feel better.She was crying freely now, “Ghanta! I’m sure you also like hot women like ma’am only! Men don’t like fat, ugly, stupid women like me!” In a split second, I decided to take advantage of her vulnerability. I wheeled my chair in front of her and sat down.. I asked her if she has ever seen a cock. She said no. I told her to see if someone is seeing us and started opening my zip. She knew what was coming next. When I got my cock out, she was shocked and her eyes went big.She had never seen a cock and that too a big and thick cock like mine. I asked her if she wanna touch. but she was shy. So I took her hand and placed it on my cock. She started feeling for it and started jerking it. I asked her to take it in her mouth. She initially refused, citing. My period had begun, and maybe my scent had attracted and aroused him, and here he was between my legs. Still half asleep, I moaned at the sensation of his large, warm tongue licking my pussy and teasing my now engorged clit.“Please go away Bruno . . . leave me alone,” I said as the tears again began to flow down my cheeks. Bruno looked up and tilted his head curiously as if wondering why I was crying. If he could speak, I have no doubt he would have asked, "Why are you crying bitch? You know.