Her walls writhed about my girl-dick. It was such sweet heaven. I trembled atop her, my nipples kissing her nubs as I pounded her pale form hard. I th...ust with all my passion, her moans inspiring me to give her every ounce of my love that I could.I kissed her pink lips. I tasted her sweet mouth as we writhed and heaved together in the oldest act of art: sex. The first way something new and beautiful was created. The joining of flesh. The sharing of fluids. The union of lust and love, passion. Monica knew she had to be patient and understanding. Being aveterinarian made it that she could read body language and she couldsense how scared frightened Heather was. She did not want the silence toget awkward but also could not think of a question.The silence was getting deafening in the room as they ate. Then it cameto Monica she needed to take the lead on this date. Monica smiled andstarted to tell a story from her childhood about playing house. Shehoped that Scott acted out on his. Lastweek was the truth. Last year was the truth. You know me better thananyone, and now all of that's a lie? Why? Why is it a lie?" Because you didn't tell me." Why should I have had to? What obligates me? Because we're friends?Should I have to tell all of my friends? Maybe I should come up with alittle form letter explaining my transsexualism so I could hand it outto everyone I meet in case we might become friends?" I didn't say that, dammit!" No, but you sure feel I was obligated to tell you,. Months of me furiously fingering myself every night wishing it was him. Until one day, I decided that I was done waiting. I had decided the night beforehand. I was going to fuck him the next day no matter what. I got up early and took a hot shower. I shaved my pussy carefully, and ran my fingers along my slit and smiled. Today was the day. I wore my basic uniform, and let my hair down. Only I decided against wearing spandex and opted for a tiny white thong instead. All day I was shaking.
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