|
I reached beside him on the couch for my clutch purse and opened it. I pulled out a condom. "A girl's got to be prepared," I said, and tore it open with my teeth. Before I had a chance to roll it over Nathan's cock, however, Nathan had lifted up the skirt of my dress and tugged down my boxer shorts. He pulled me toward him, and his mouth closed about my dick as he eagerly shoved himself onto me. "I told you not to move," I complained, although I didn't mean a word of it, I wanted him to move and keep moving, his mouth sliding up and down along my dick, his pointed tongue probing into the loose folds of my ballsac as my entire shaft was in his mouth, or swirling around the crown when he'd pulled back. The couple who had come in when the doorbell rang--a towheaded blond and his dark-skinned Brazilian-looking lover--were staring at us, curious and unbelieving and semi-uncomfortable by such blatant sexuality. They looked away when they noticed I'd seen them watching. I didn't care, let them watch. Not that they could see anything, anyway. My skirt had dropped over Nathan's head, so all they could see was the bobbing orange fabric. All I could see was bobbing orange fabric, too, but damned if it didn't feel fine. Nathan pulled off my cock for air, and lay back against the couch as he caught his breath. One hand still held his own cock, which he'd been tugging on as he sucked me off. His dick was bright red, swollen from his desire and the crotch wig slash cock ring. I delicately stepped out of my boxer shorts, which I realized were foolish things to be wearing when I knew I'd have to be in drag and would need to "tuck". The unrolled condom in my hand had begun to go dry, but I had a small bottle of lube in my clutch purse. "A girl's got to be prepared," I said again, as I knelt down in front of Nathan again, with the lube in one hand and the condom in the other. ------------------------------------------------------------------------
|