I did receive few responses from real people during the process but our conversations did not go a long way and I was to be blamed for almost all of t...e mess ups. Part of the problem was the specific asks I had. I wanted to get acquainted with a real TS in a non sexual way and on top of that I wanted to keep it discrete. And as you can tell, both of these requirements usually do not go well together. I eventually lost hope and stopped renewing the post.Couple weeks later, I randomly went back. He only replied with deep grunts and panting, as the small space we were in started to really get hot and steamy. The two of us started to really start sweating, and I fucking loved it. The scents in the room, him dripping all over me and making me feel so dirty drove me wild. His big strong arms held my shaky legs up, and rammed into me as hard as he could, using me as if I'm his personal fucktoy to use on a whim as he pulled and yanked my hair back sometimes so I'd turn my head and show him. I was hardly a regular. In fact, in all my years at Nanticoke, I’d gone exactly once (to see Gilda Potash). The idea of meeting Becky there was something out of a wet dream. I accepted, of course, showing up in chinos and a madras shirt, my brown, processed hair parted neatly on the left side. Becky, in a yellow dress and green blouse, showed wearing a yellow ribbon in her hair, set with bangs and a flip curl in back. My confidence level was higher than it had been years ago. Still, there was. It was just daddy licking me that mattered. My thighs clenched about his head.“What is this?” I asked. I knew it was an orgasm, but I felt so girlish. So young and innocent now. “It feels too good.”“Daddy just made you orgasm,” he said as I hit that wonderful peak.“Oh, wow, that’s an orgasm,” I moaned, my voice so breathy and childish. “It was so amazing. I just burst with all these good feelings. Mmm, and it’s making me feel all naughty and itchy. I want more, Daddy. Give me more. Please!.