Any naughty man over here who can cum on my face and into my mouth in USA

I am a 28 year old brown male just wanting someone to suck my di ck and then ride my **** I feel like exploding of cum

No Ai or Fake Pictures, What you see is me and mine. Nothing more or less.
Why do I love Co ck......
This is a good question and I guess it's personal to me ...
Co ck that has the head fully showing to me look amazing, small medium or large just look incredible and if Smooth Shaven and in Stockings or Holdups then I'm Week and I must have them in my mouth.
The way the skin behind the head moves with your lips, the feel of the rough edge of the Head.
The taste of a clean **** is amazing.
The way it shows you it enjoys what you started by getting hard, what a turn on
The best thing of all is how after all this fun sucking and playing it rewards you again with the most amazing Pre Cum then followed by a juicy mouth full of Cum for me to Swallow and enjoy...
Damn I love them so much ....

If you are local to Derby or Nottingham then get in touch, get those Co ck Photos and
Send them my way
------------------------------------------------------------
Further Slutty Reading

As someone that on the odd occasion meets other CDs, I think it is important to know how I feel about you if we meet up.
Well it's very important to understand before we meet a few things.
I'm meeting you for my own pleasure entirely,
I'm not interested in you looking like a Female entirely... Let me explain
Before we got to the meeting point we would have chatted extensively about it, and swapped Pics as you do.
So now we know I'm only interested in your Co ck, but only Smooth Co ck and in Lingerie.
Unfortunately I DON'T do beards, not on my Co ck.
So now we know, You need to be Smooth, in Lingerie and have a **** I WILL use.
That means I will be Sucking that Co ck Dry and Swallowing the Content, No Ifs, No Buts...
Now the next thing is what you may want me to do or of course do to me.
The 2 rules I have will have been discussed with you before now anyway so...
My Co ck 'WILL' be Emptied and 'WILL' be Swallowed by You, No Ifs, No Buts...
I get asked, but I wanted you to **** my Ass, that's fine but the rule above still applies so remember that...
I get asked, But I wanted to **** your Ass, well again that's fine but you WILL Cum in my mouth and Feed me, No Ifs, No Buts.
You are a Toy for my pleasure.... That's it
You may become a friend and we may meet very regular, but everything above ALWAYS stays the same....Never Ever any Mess or Waste...
Now you know..


All my best pictures and Stories in one (FREE) Private Group <a href="https://www.flickr.com/groups/14871084@N25/">www.flickr.com/groups/14871084@N25/</a>

No Ai or Fake Pictures, What you see is me and mine. Nothing more or less.
Why do I love Co ck......
This is a good question and I guess it's personal to me ...
Co ck that has the head fully showing to me look amazing, small medium or large just look incredible and if Smooth Shaven and in Stockings or Holdups then I'm Week and I must have them in my mouth.
The way the skin behind the head moves with your lips, the feel of the rough edge of the Head.
The taste of a clean **** is amazing.
The way it shows you it enjoys what you started by getting hard, what a turn on
The best thing of all is how after all this fun sucking and playing it rewards you again with the most amazing Pre Cum then followed by a juicy mouth full of Cum for me to Swallow and enjoy...
Damn I love them so much ....

If you are local to Derby or Nottingham then get in touch, get those Co ck Photos and
Send them my way
------------------------------------------------------------
Further Slutty Reading

As someone that on the odd occasion meets other CDs, I think it is important to know how I feel about you if we meet up.
Well it's very important to understand before we meet a few things.
I'm meeting you for my own pleasure entirely,
I'm not interested in you looking like a Female entirely... Let me explain
Before we got to the meeting point we would have chatted extensively about it, and swapped Pics as you do.
So now we know I'm only interested in your Co ck, but only Smooth Co ck and in Lingerie.
Unfortunately I DON'T do beards, not on my Co ck.
So now we know, You need to be Smooth, in Lingerie and have a **** I WILL use.
That means I will be Sucking that Co ck Dry and Swallowing the Content, No Ifs, No Buts...
Now the next thing is what you may want me to do or of course do to me.
The 2 rules I have will have been discussed with you before now anyway so...
My Co ck 'WILL' be Emptied and 'WILL' be Swallowed by You, No Ifs, No Buts...
I get asked, but I wanted you to **** my Ass, that's fine but the rule above still applies so remember that...
I get asked, But I wanted to **** your Ass, well again that's fine but you WILL Cum in my mouth and Feed me, No Ifs, No Buts.
You are a Toy for my pleasure.... That's it
You may become a friend and we may meet very regular, but everything above ALWAYS stays the same....Never Ever any Mess or Waste...
Now you know..


All my best pictures and Stories in one (FREE) Private Group <a href="https://www.flickr.com/groups/14871084@N25/">www.flickr.com/groups/14871084@N25/</a>

I'm coming to London for four nights on the 24th Feb for course work
staying an a hotel. I'll be alone and needy if anyone wants to cum over.

cum over?

No Ai or Fake Pictures, What you see is me and mine. Nothing more or less.
Why do I love Co ck......
This is a good question and I guess it's personal to me ...
Co ck that has the head fully showing to me look amazing, small medium or large just look incredible and if Smooth Shaven and in Stockings or Holdups then I'm Week and I must have them in my mouth.
The way the skin behind the head moves with your lips, the feel of the rough edge of the Head.
The taste of a clean **** is amazing.
The way it shows you it enjoys what you started by getting hard, what a turn on
The best thing of all is how after all this fun sucking and playing it rewards you again with the most amazing Pre Cum then followed by a juicy mouth full of Cum for me to Swallow and enjoy...
Damn I love them so much ....

If you are local to Derby or Nottingham then get in touch, get those Co ck Photos and
Send them my way
------------------------------------------------------------
Further Slutty Reading

As someone that on the odd occasion meets other CDs, I think it is important to know how I feel about you if we meet up.
Well it's very important to understand before we meet a few things.
I'm meeting you for my own pleasure entirely,
I'm not interested in you looking like a Female entirely... Let me explain
Before we got to the meeting point we would have chatted extensively about it, and swapped Pics as you do.
So now we know I'm only interested in your Co ck, but only Smooth Co ck and in Lingerie.
Unfortunately I DON'T do beards, not on my Co ck.
So now we know, You need to be Smooth, in Lingerie and have a **** I WILL use.
That means I will be Sucking that Co ck Dry and Swallowing the Content, No Ifs, No Buts...
Now the next thing is what you may want me to do or of course do to me.
The 2 rules I have will have been discussed with you before now anyway so...
My Co ck 'WILL' be Emptied and 'WILL' be Swallowed by You, No Ifs, No Buts...
I get asked, but I wanted you to **** my Ass, that's fine but the rule above still applies so remember that...
I get asked, But I wanted to **** your Ass, well again that's fine but you WILL Cum in my mouth and Feed me, No Ifs, No Buts.
You are a Toy for my pleasure.... That's it
You may become a friend and we may meet very regular, but everything above ALWAYS stays the same....Never Ever any Mess or Waste...
Now you know..


All my best pictures and Stories in one (FREE) Private Group <a href="https://www.flickr.com/groups/14871084@N25/">www.flickr.com/groups/14871084@N25/</a>

This **** craving cum guzzling sissy is bout to get spun and I need to have a woman or a few women to get to watch my mouth and tight little sissy ass penetrated and gaped by these toys or anything else you want to see me shove in my mouth or up my ass and get a close-up video of me begging to have all my pictures and videos uploaded on every media platform l you can and I need to have a job on my knees sucking dick in front of everyone and the best thing is I don't have any problems with my own mom and my wife seeing my mouth and tight little sissy ass raped raw and soaked in cum by multiple bbcs on a live stream cam show . Like my legs and ass cheeks my PM is ALWAYS open. Now who wants to turn me out

Horny as ****. Id take any one who would fill one of holes up with cum right now

No Ai or Fake Pictures, What you see is me and mine. Nothing more or less.
-----------------------
Why do I love Co ck......
This is a good question and I guess it's personal to me ...
Co ck that has the head fully showing to me look amazing, small medium or large just look incredible and if Smooth Shaven and in Stockings or Holdups then I'm Week and I must have them in my mouth.
The way the skin behind the head moves with your lips, the feel of the rough edge of the Head.
The taste of a clean **** is amazing.
The way it shows you it enjoys what you started by getting hard, what a turn on
The best thing of all is how after all this fun sucking and playing it rewards you again with the most amazing Pre Cum then followed by a juicy mouth full of Cum for me to Swallow and enjoy...
Damn I love them so much ....

If you are local to Derby or Nottingham then get in touch, get those Co ck Photos and
Send them my way
------------------------------------------------------------
Further Slutty Reading

As someone that on the odd occasion meets other CDs, I think it is important to know how I feel about you if we meet up.
Well it's very important to understand before we meet a few things.
I'm meeting you for my own pleasure entirely,
I'm not interested in you looking like a Female entirely... Let me explain
Before we got to the meeting point we would have chatted extensively about it, and swapped Pics as you do.
So now we know I'm only interested in your Co ck, but only Smooth Co ck and in Lingerie.
Unfortunately I DON'T do beards, not on my Co ck.
So now we know, You need to be Smooth, in Lingerie and have a **** I WILL use.
That means I will be Sucking that Co ck Dry and Swallowing the Content, No Ifs, No Buts...
Now the next thing is what you may want me to do or of course do to me.
The 2 rules I have will have been discussed with you before now anyway so...
My Co ck 'WILL' be Emptied and 'WILL' be Swallowed by You, No Ifs, No Buts...
I get asked, but I wanted you to **** my Ass, that's fine but the rule above still applies so remember that...
I get asked, But I wanted to **** your Ass, well again that's fine but you WILL Cum in my mouth and Feed me, No Ifs, No Buts.
You are a Toy for my pleasure.... That's it
You may become a friend and we may meet very regular, but everything above ALWAYS stays the same....Never Ever any Mess or Waste...
Now you know..


All my best pictures and Stories in one (FREE) Private Group <a href="https://www.flickr.com/groups/14871084@N25/">www.flickr.com/groups/14871084@N25/</a>

No Ai or Fake Pictures, What you see is me and mine. Nothing more or less.

Why do I love Co ck

This is a good question and I guess it's personal to me ...
Co ck that has the head fully showing to me look amazing, small medium or large just look incredible and if Smooth Shaven and in Stockings or Holdups then I'm Week and I must have them in my mouth.
The way the skin behind the head moves with your lips, the feel of the rough edge of the Head.
The taste of a clean **** is amazing.
The way it shows you it enjoys what you started by getting hard, what a turn on
The best thing of all is how after all this fun sucking and playing it rewards you again with the most amazing Pre Cum then followed by a juicy mouth full of Cum for me to Swallow and enjoy...
Damn I love them so much ....

If you are local to Derby or Nottingham then get in touch, get those Co ck Photos and
Send them my way
------------------------------------------------------------
Further Slutty Reading

As someone that on the odd occasion meets other CDs, I think it is important to know how I feel about you if we meet up.
Well it's very important to understand before we meet a few things.
I'm meeting you for my own pleasure entirely,
I'm not interested in you looking like a Female entirely... Let me explain
Before we got to the meeting point we would have chatted extensively about it, and swapped Pics as you do.
So now we know I'm only interested in your Co ck, but only Smooth Co ck and in Lingerie.
Unfortunately I DON'T do beards, not on my Co ck.
So now we know, You need to be Smooth, in Lingerie and have a **** I WILL use.
That means I will be Sucking that Co ck Dry and Swallowing the Content, No Ifs, No Buts...
Now the next thing is what you may want me to do or of course do to me.
The 2 rules I have will have been discussed with you before now anyway so...
My Co ck 'WILL' be Emptied and 'WILL' be Swallowed by You, No Ifs, No Buts...
I get asked, but I wanted you to **** my Ass, that's fine but the rule above still applies so remember that...
I get asked, But I wanted to **** your Ass, well again that's fine but you WILL Cum in my mouth and Feed me, No Ifs, No Buts.
You are a Toy for my pleasure.... That's it
You may become a friend and we may meet very regular, but everything above ALWAYS stays the same....Never Ever any Mess or Waste...
Now you know..


All my best pictures and Stories in one (FREE) Private Group <a href="https://www.flickr.com/groups/14871084@N25/">www.flickr.com/groups/14871084@N25/</a>

Morning sexy people. In need of some cumpany x

No Ai or Fake Pictures, What you see it me and mine. Nothing more or less.

Why do I love Co ck

This is a good question and I guess it's personal to me ...
Co ck that has the head fully showing to me look amazing, small medium or large just look incredible and if Smooth Shaven and in Stockings or Holdups then I'm Week and I must have them in my mouth.
The way the skin behind the head moves with your lips, the feel of the rough edge of the Head.
The taste of a clean **** is amazing.
The way it shows you it enjoys what you started by getting hard, what a turn on
The best thing of all is how after all this fun sucking and playing it rewards you again with the most amazing Pre Cum then followed by a juicy mouth full of Cum for me to Swallow and enjoy...
Damn I love them so much ....

If you are local to Derby or Nottingham then get in touch, get those Co ck Photos and
Send them my way
------------------------------------------------------------
Further Slutty Reading

As someone that on the odd occasion meets other CDs, I think it is important to know how I feel about you if we meet up.
Well it's very important to understand before we meet a few things.
I'm meeting you for my own pleasure entirely,
I'm not interested in you looking like a Female entirely... Let me explain
Before we got to the meeting point we would have chatted extensively about it, and swapped Pics as you do.
So now we know I'm only interested in your Co ck, but only Smooth Co ck and in Lingerie.
Unfortunately I DON'T do beards, not on my Co ck.
So now we know, You need to be Smooth, in Lingerie and have a **** I WILL use.
That means I will be Sucking that Co ck Dry and Swallowing the Content, No Ifs, No Buts...
Now the next thing is what you may want me to do or of course do to me.
The 2 rules I have will have been discussed with you before now anyway so...
My Co ck 'WILL' be Emptied and 'WILL' be Swallowed by You, No Ifs, No Buts...
I get asked, but I wanted you to **** my Ass, that's fine but the rule above still applies so remember that...
I get asked, But I wanted to **** your Ass, well again that's fine but you WILL Cum in my mouth and Feed me, No Ifs, No Buts.
You are a Toy for my pleasure.... That's it
You may become a friend and we may meet very regular, but everything above ALWAYS stays the same....Never Ever any Mess or Waste...
Now you know..


All my best pictures and Stories in one (FREE) Private Group <a href="https://www.flickr.com/groups/14871084@N25/">www.flickr.com/groups/14871084@N25/</a>

Well girls ive cum to the conclusion if you don't crossdress and you are straight as an arrow oh and you don't sc your not normal xxxxxxx

Morning sexy's. feeling frisky and waiting for someone to cum take control or reverse role.

Is any one you who wants to talk or what ever cum up

cum see all sissy baby girl james torrey pics and vids (no cost or anything) lol https://www.jamestorrey.com/

A number of years ago, I walked into a small back street Charity Shop on the edge of town. I wasn’t really looking for anything specific just browsing, killing time, letting my eyes wander over the racks the way I always did when I felt that familiar restless itch under my skin. Then I saw it. Hanging slightly askew on a padded hanger near the back wall, half-hidden behind a row of sensible navy blazers, was a floor-length satin bridal gown. Ivory, not stark white. The bodice was structured but not boned, the skirt a gentle A-line that flared softly rather than ballooning into tulle insanity. A modest neckline. Delicate lace overlay on the shoulders and upper chest. And pinned to the hanger was the tag: Size 32 Worn once £49. My heart gave a hard, guilty thud. I’m a UK 18" collar with a 50" chest in men’s shirts. But dresses… dresses measure differently. Especially wedding dresses. Especially ones made to accommodate curves most people would call “plus size.” I glanced around. The shop was quiet. An older woman with silver hair was sorting bric-a-brac at the counter; a younger volunteer early twenties, purple streaks in her hair was steaming something in the corner. I lifted the gown off the rail. The satin felt cool and liquid against my palms. Heavy in the right way. I carried it toward the changing cubicle like I was smuggling contraband. “Would you like to try it on, love?” the silver-haired woman called out. Her voice was kind, matter-of-fact. No trace of surprise or judgement. I froze for half a second. “Yes please,” I managed. My voice sounded smaller than usual. She smiled. “Curtain’s already drawn back there. Take your time. Shout if you need a hand with the zip.” The cubicle was narrow, just a full-length mirror screwed to the wall, a single hook, and a thin beige curtain that didn’t quite reach the floor. I hung the dress on the hook and stripped quickly out of my jeans, hoodie, socks, boxers, down to bare skin that already felt too warm, too alive. My **** was already half-hard just from touching the fabric, from the sheer improbability of this moment. I reached into the pocket of my discarded jeans on the floor and found the condom I always carried now just in case. Fingers trembling, I tore the packet, rolled the latex down over my throbbing length, making sure the reservoir tip was positioned correctly. The relief of containment was immediate. No stains. No evidence. Just secret, pulsing heat trapped safely inside. I stepped into the gown. The skirt whispered up my calves, over my thighs. I pulled it past my hips slowly, carefully and the satin glided over the soft roundness of my belly without catching. I tugged the bodice up over my chest. The cups were generously cut, there was room. Actual room. I reached behind and found the long invisible zip. It slid up smoothly, no resistance, no straining. When I let my arms drop, the dress settled around me like it had been waiting. I looked in the mirror. The reflection showed someone soft and full and blushing furiously beneath ivory satin. The modest neckline framed the gentle swell of my chest and the faint shadow of cleavage created by the way the bodice pushed everything together. My hips looked wide and womanly beneath the smooth fall of fabric. My belly made a soft, proud curve against the front of the skirt. I turned sideways. The line from back to front was lush, generous, unapologetic. It fit. It actually fit. A small, involuntary whimper escaped me. I heard footsteps outside the curtain. “Everything alright in there?” It was the younger volunteer this time. I swallowed. “Yes. Um… could you, could you maybe check the zip? Just to make sure it’s all the way up?” The curtain parted a few inches. She peeked in, eyes widening for only a heartbeat before her face softened into a genuine smile. She stepped inside careful, professional and fastened the tiny hook-and-eye at the top of the zip I hadn’t been able to reach. Her fingers were gentle. “There. Perfect. It’s like it was made for you.” I couldn’t speak. My **** was fully hard now, straining painfully against the satin lining. A bead of pre-cum had already escaped and I could feel the slippery warmth of it against the inside of the dress. I smoothed the front of the skirt with both hands. The satin gleamed under the fluorescent light. I looked sill looked like a bloke in a dress. A big, soft, blushing, overweight very happy bride. When I finally stepped out, both women were waiting. “I’ll take it,” I said. Whilst the younger woman unhooked and unzipped me, the silver-haired woman rang it up. “£49. Cash or card, love?” I handed over my card. I left the Charity Shop with the dress folded carefully in a large carrier bag, the memory of satin against every inch of my skin still electric. And for the first time in years, I didn’t feel like I was hiding. I felt like I was finally beginning to find myself.

My fingers tremble, just a faint quiver, as I reach for the foil packet on the nightstand. It’s almost weightless, a promise in silver. I tear it open with deliberate care (the small rip loud in the stillness), and the condom unfurls like liquid mercury. Cool and impossibly thin, it glides down over my already aching ****, sheathing me in a trembling second skin. Safe. Secure. A fragile barrier between me and the avalanche of satin to come. A bead of pre-cum kisses the latex tip; I smile. Patience, little sissy. You’ll have your reward.
The first layer is a whisper-pink satin chemise, so fine it feels wet. I let it slither over my head, down my chest, until the hem brushes mid-thigh. Instantly it warms, clings, releases, and clings again with every breath. My palms chase the fabric, front and back, greedy for the slick heat blooming beneath my touch.
Next, the Black nightgown (double-layered, heavy, devotional). I step into it and draw it upward. The inner lining kisses the chemise, and they sigh together: shhh, shhh, my private lullaby. It falls to my ankles in a perfect liquid column. When I move, both layers ripple, cool against cool, warmer where my body heat pools.
The robe is deep rose, quilted satin outside, and champagne gloss within. Arms slide into sleeves, and the lining floods over my skin like chilled cream poured slow. I cinch the sash, and the world contracts: four surfaces of satin now stroking one another with every heartbeat (chemise on nightgown, nightgown on robe lining, lining on skin). I walk barefoot across the room, and the fabrics answer in overlapping waves: the chemise clings, the nightgown glides, and the robe slithers and sweeps. A private orchestra of frictionless lust.
In the mirror I’m only blush and ivory shimmer, face flushed above an ocean of gloss. I lift my arms; sleeves fall back like slow-motion waterfalls. When they drop, the collapse is a soft, wet thud against my body that I feel in my teeth.
I sink onto the midnight-blue satin duvet and let the robe bloom beneath me. On my back, layers flatten and spread, cool against my shoulder blades, my thighs, and the arches of my feet. I arch (just slightly) and the slide is obscene: satin on satin on satin, endless, merciless.
Knees drawn up, fabric pools thick and warm between my thighs like molten candy. My palms smooth down the front (quilted diamonds, slick columns, clinging chemise, skin), and every layer moves with me, against me, inside me.
Now the first of my headscarves, ballet-slipper pink, three feet of pure satin. Folded triangle wide, draped, pulled beneath my chin, crossed, and knotted tight. It cups my jaw and seals my throat. A second knot sits just under my lower lip like a soft gag. The world muffles instantly.
Second scarf, ivory and heavier. Over the first, tied again triangle wide. Four thicknesses now cradle my head, press my cheeks, and frame my face in a gleaming oval.
Third, a deep rose bandeau wound low, looped twice, and knotted at my nape. My chin is forced gently down; swallowing makes every layer glide against my throat in one slow, liquid swallow of its own.
Then the veils.
Pink chiffon, so sheer it’s barely there, yet it turns every texture beneath into a caress. Ivory voile next, pinned high, floating like breath. Last, pale mint over my face alone, tucked beneath the lowest knot. The room becomes watercolor. Breathing through it is filthy intimacy: the fabric flutters against my lips, tasting faintly of dye and my own heat.
A final white satin ribbon, narrow and merciless. Three coils around my neck over every knot, until only a thick, glossy band remains, pulsing with my heartbeat.
From crown to toe, only satin and chiffon speak. When I turn my head, the scarves whisper, and the veils drift like perfume. Pressure under my chin is constant, loving, and absolute.
One sleeved hand slips beneath the pooled folds at my thighs (satin, satin, satin then the cool, taut drum of latex). The contrast is blinding. I stroke once, slowly. My breath flutters the veil against my lips.
Knees higher. The other hand presses the stacked knots beneath my chin (gentle ownership). I begin: lazy circles that turn greedy. The condom translates every ridge of fabric into bright, liquid fire. Veils drift across my chest with each ragged inhale. Heat blooms, trapped, multiplied, sacred.
Faster. Hips rock. The robe lining slithers against the duvet in one long, wet slide. Scarves tighten as my head sinks deeper into the pillow; the ribbon collar throbs.
Release crashes silent and total. I bite down on nothing but chiffon, a muffled whimper swallowed by layers. Pleasure pours into the latex sheath in thick, obedient pulses, trapped and perfect, echoing through every fold until my whole body is one long satin tremor.
After, I lie glowing. The condom keeps me immaculate (another reverent layer). My chest rises and falls beneath quilted satin and drifting voile; tiny aftershocks ripple like quiet tides.

Cum

Cum Cuddle?

I Hope no one cums behind me that would be a shame :3 (plz do it)

All dressed up (sort of LOL) but nowhere to go. Who will cum keep me company?
-Chrissy

https://rent.men/ChrissyinSD

#sissy #sissyboy #sissies #sissyboys #sissygirl #sissygirls #femboy #femboys #femman #gurl #crossdresser #crossdressers #crossdressing #tgirl #shemale #shemalechrissy #sissychrissyinsandiego #chrissyinsd #trans #transgirl #transwoman #transfemale #transgender #lgbt #queer #gay #dancing #twerking #pantyboy #meninpanties
Read less

Derby UK Lingerie CD
--------------------------
Why do I love Co ck
This is a good question and I guess it's personal to me ...
Co ck that has the head fully showing to me look amazing, small medium or large just look incredible and if Smooth Shaven and with Stockings or Holdups, then I can't say no and I must have them in my mouth.
The way the skin behind the head moves with your lips, the feel of the rough edge of the Head.
The taste of a clean co ck is amazing.
The way it shows you it enjoys what you started by getting hard, what a turn on
The best thing of all is how after all this fun sucking and playing in rewards you again with the most amazing Pre Cum then followed by a juicy mouth full of Cum for me to enjoy...
Damn I love them so much ....

Anyone interested in seeing a live stream of me for free? Feeling horny and as we are cuming to the end of the year I want to treat people

My First Experience as a Truck Stop Wh-re or Chrissy — A Night on the Road Continued... (Part II) (To see the beginning, Part I, visit my page and scroll down):
The bra came next.

I hesitated for half a second—long enough for the moment to stretch—then let it slide off. Cool air kissed my skin. His breath caught audibly. He didn’t touch me yet. He didn’t need to.

Click.
Click.

I could feel my body responding to the attention, to the knowledge that this version of me was being captured, saved, proof that Chrissy existed. That I wasn’t just a thought or a secret ritual in front of a mirror.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, and I believed him.

When the last of the fabric was gone, I stood there fully exposed under the red glow, arms crossed loosely at first, then letting them fall to my sides. Vulnerability pulsed through me—electric, frightening, intoxicating. I felt open, claimed by the moment, by the lens, by his gaze.

He stepped closer then. Close enough that I could feel his heat without being touched. One hand lifted my chin, not roughly, just enough to make me meet his eyes.

“Look at me,” he said. “Not the camera.”

I did.

The photos continued, slower now, more deliberate. Less about documenting and more about possession. When he finally set the phone down, my skin felt hypersensitive, like every nerve had been tuned too high.

When he guided me back onto the bunk, the vinyl was cold at first, then quickly warmed beneath me. I lay there open to him, knees drawn up, posture unmistakable, my body arranged in a way that made refusal impossible—but refusal wasn’t what I felt.

What I felt was permission being taken.

The cab groaned softly as he leaned over me, blocking out the low red light, blocking out the rest of the world. His hands settled at my hips and stayed there—anchoring me, claiming the space where my choices narrowed into a single direction. He didn’t hurry. He waited. Long enough that the waiting itself became its own kind of pressure.

My breath went shallow. My body answered before my mind could intervene.

When he finally moved, the sensation was overwhelming—not sharp, not violent, but consuming. The kind of closeness that demands you make room for it, that insists you soften or break. I felt myself give way in small increments, each one deliberate, each one erasing a little more distance between who I pretend to be and what I was becoming in that moment. He plowed my asspussy over and over....in and out...in and out...in..in...getting deeper each time.

He watched my face closely, as if he needed to see exactly where I disappeared. Every sound I made seemed to encourage him, draw him deeper into his own control. I clutched the bedding, holding on to something solid as my thoughts scattered, replaced by a single, relentless awareness of being used with purpose.

“Relax,” he said quietly, almost kindly. “I’ve got you.”

And I surrendered.

Not just my body—my resistance. I let the tension drain out of me and allowed the sensation to take over completely. There was a point where I stopped tracking time, stopped measuring what I was giving and what I was losing. My body responded on its own terms, breaking open in waves that left me shaking, emptied of pretense.

I heard him make a sound above me—rough, unfiltered—and knew I’d been brought exactly where he wanted me. I knew he came, he ejaculated, he sprayed his man juice, his sperm, his DNA deep inside me. I could feel it, the warm, sticky liquid clinging to my insides.

Afterward, when he pulled me up toward him again, there was no gentleness in the request—just expectation. I recognized it instantly. My knees braced against the seat, my hands guided into place, my mouth following where my thoughts no longer led. I focused on the task, on being useful, on doing it right. There was comfort in that narrow focus. Safety, even. More to cum....

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Note: While this drive was real, the story is fictional. This is my fantasy. Will it become true one day? I hope so. And maybe I'll run into you at a truck stop? Kisses!
-Chrissy

My First Experience as a Truck Stop Wh-re or Chrissy — A Night on the Road

I’m not out. Not really.

Not to my family. Not to the world. Maybe not even fully to myself.

By daylight I pass as what people expect: a tall, thin man in his forties, dark hair, dark eyes, quiet, unremarkable. But underneath—always underneath—I carry Chrissy. Smooth skin hidden under denim. Lace and silk where no one is supposed to look. A secret pressed close to my body, warm and constant.

I don’t know yet if Chrissy is a role, a mask, or my truest self. I just know I’m not ready to live her openly.

The drive from San Diego to Prescott was long and lonely, the kind of drive where your thoughts stretch out across the desert like the road itself. I left late—too late, really—and by the time I pulled into the truck stop it was just after four in the morning. Christmas was only days away. The air was cold. The place was nearly silent.

Except for the trucks.

Rows and rows of them, idling and dark, their drivers asleep inside. A whole hidden world resting while the rest of America slept.

Inside, fluorescent lights buzzed. I bought coffee I didn’t really want and a hot dog I didn’t really taste. That’s when I felt it—that familiar sensation on the back of my neck. Being seen.

He was older. Weathered. The kind of man whose life is measured in miles and nights like this. His eyes lingered too long. Not crude—curious. Knowing.

When I stepped back outside, he followed—but not aggressively. He spoke softly, close enough that his voice stayed between us.

“Chrissy,” he said, like it was a question and an answer at the same time.

My heart kicked hard in my chest. Fear and thrill braided together.

We talked. Quietly. Honestly. About boundaries. About money. About what I was—and wasn’t—willing to do. Nothing rushed. Nothing forced. When I followed him to his truck, it was because I chose to.

Inside, the cab was dim, warm, insulated from the world. I shed my outer layers slowly, deliberately, revealing what I’d hidden all night. His attention wasn’t violent—it was reverent. Hungry, yes, but controlled. I felt myself settle into Chrissy fully, like slipping into a familiar skin.

What happened between us stayed there, contained within the cab and the dark and the hum of the engine. Time stretched and blurred. I was present in my body in a way I rarely allow myself to be.

When it ended, I didn’t feel used.

I felt… seen.

He paid me without haggling. Then something unexpected happened: he didn’t boast, didn’t leer. He simply told a few others—men like him, tired men, lonely men—who understood discretion.

I made my own choices again. And again.

Not a dozen. Not chaos. Just a handful of quiet encounters, spaced out across the early hours of the morning. Each one brief. Each one negotiated. Each one leaving me with cash folded neatly into my purse and a strange, steady calm settling in my chest.

By sunrise, I was exhausted—not just physically, but emotionally. Chrissy had been fully awake all night. And she was tired.

Under the Dashboard Lights

The cab door closed behind me, sealing us into a private world of low light and humming machinery. The dashboard cast everything in a muted red glow, like we were suspended inside a heartbeat. I could feel it then—how small the space was, how large he felt in it, how nowhere I could go made everything sharper.

He reached for his phone almost casually.

“Stand right there,” he said.

I obeyed.

My hands shook just slightly as I slipped off my jacket, then my shirt. I could feel his eyes tracking every inch of me, lingering, memorizing. When I was left in my bra and panties—the ones I’d chosen carefully before the trip, just in case—I felt a rush of heat flood my chest and face.

The phone came up.

A soft click.

Then another.

He moved slowly, circling me, telling me to turn, to arch my back, to lift my chin. Each instruction felt like a pull downward, stripping away the version of myself that hides. I wasn’t performing anymore. I was presenting myself. Offering. More to cum....

#crossdresser #sissy #sissyboy #crossdressers #sissies #shemale #ladyboy #femboy #femman #femboys #crossdressing #gurl #trans #transgirl #transwoman #transgender #tgirl #gay #lgbtq #nsfw #adultsonly #adultcontent #sissy #crossdresser #crossdressing #femboy #sissyboy #sissygirl #trans #transgender #shemale #transgirl #transwoman #transfemale #tgirl #model #modeling #gay #bi #lgbtq #queer #genderfluid #pantymodel #panty #panties #meninpanties #ladyboy More: http://chrissyinsd.hotviber.com/

https://youtu.be/iFAMxxa6Xuw?si=YI1oC9Ivw2E8a31Q
Im watching this video trying not to cum imagining myself wearing that dress and wig while doing the washing without getting caught! Mmmm

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This dress will always be my favourite! It's so full and puffy and bouncy! It makes my heart beat so fast! Trying not to cum! Mmmmmm

Santa must be busy,he hasn’t cum down my chimney yet 🤶

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I have just woke up wrapped up in our satin nightdresses, at a time before her illness made sleeping together a problem, we had matching satin pink nightdresses. Last night I pulled the suitcase down from the top of the wardrobe and laid them out on the bed. Pink Simply Be Pretty Secrets Nightdresses in lovely silky satin. Full covered shoulder to capped sleeves with lace piping and spread across the breast. Calf length satin shimmering in Pink. My wife's is regularly worn in UK size 32/34, mine is newer UK size 20/22, I liked a slimmer tight nightdress that hugged my skin, my wife wore hers two sizes bigger than her usual larger dress size to make it easier to slide around in bed. I slipped mine on and shimmied the satin down my moobs and hips to rest around my calves. My wife's was like a tent on my body, lots of voluminous extra satin material hanging loose. The double layer feeling of all the satin was wonderful and I admit the erection had to be contained within a condom because pre cum started instantly. I lay on the bed and was overcome with both longing and grief, I laid there on the bed with tears in my eyes and sobbing in my chest. When I had calmed down the sensual aspect of the double layer satin took over and led to the inevitable masturbation. Physically and emotionally I was drained and fell asleep waking a few hours later needing to take off the condom and go to the toilet for a wee. As I walked back from the toilet to the bedroom the satin reminded me of our sensuality and our love. Wrapped in the double layer of satin underneath the quilt I felt comforted and slept deep until this morning. For me this needs to become my new deeply tender and bittersweet mourning ritual, one that holds both the sharp pain of loss and the soft warmth of memory all at once. Wearing her nightdress over mine, letting all that extra satin envelop me like a tent, felt almost like being held by her again. The way the fabric moved, the shimmer, the slide of it against my skin… it’s no wonder my body responded so immediately and so completely. And now I’ve found a ritual: pulling down the suitcase, laying the nightdresses side by side on the bed, slipping into both, letting the satin hold me in that bittersweet double embrace. It’s sacred because it’s mine and hers alone. It keeps the connection alive in the most embodied way possible through touch, through memory, through the very fabric we both wore against our skin when we made love, laughed, slept, lived. Grief and desire live right next to each other; one doesn’t cancel out the other. The tears, the arousal, the release, the comfort, it all belongs within my psyche. I honored her, our love, and the sensuality we shared by allowing myself to feel everything that came up. For my state of mind, there’s something sacred in keeping those satin nightdresses layered together, in pulling them out when the longing gets too heavy, in letting them carry me back to the nights when sleeping tangled together in satin was simply how life was. I'm keeping the connection alive in the most intimate, embodied way possible. I loved her totally, and I'm still loving her beautifully in my mourning.

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"Mwah, mwah! Good Morning! How are you, dahlings?" Just got back from a hotel changeaway to recharge my sissy batteries and an attempt to manage my mourning feelings. It has been over two weeks since my Wife passed away, I'm slowly coming to terms with it and finding ways to cope with being on my own, but it's not easy. A bit of sightseeing and new company has helped. At a different time it would have been wonderful as I met a lady staying in the hotel and we got on very well, but in the circumstances I've had to put any thoughts of a romantic friendship out of my mind. We will keep in touch and if my grief recedes it might be nice to see her again.

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Santa & Mrs. Claus: Threeway at the North Pole Continued: I was too nervous to answer but nodded. "Good," he exclaimed, "now its my turn. Ho, ho, ho!" With that, Santa took his clothes off, exposing his huge, rock hard, wrinkly magical dick that I knew so well, knew so intimately. He walked over to the bed, grabbed my head from the back of it, and forced us to kiss, his tongue exploring my throat. His free hand felt down my chest and tummy, down to my naked crotch where he pulled on my ****. "I see you're ready," he commented.

I could see out of the corner of my eye Mrs. Claus feeling herself up and down, moaning. She fingered her own *****...
Santa then bent down and put my penis into his mouth. He sucked me off...slurping....licking my shaft., squeezing the head with his lips, shaking it with his hand...I was already so aroused that it didn't take me long to cum and fill his mouth up. Santa swallowed it all...smiling, moaning, saying "yum!" and, of course, "ho, ho, ho!" "Get on your hands and knees," the jolly old elf, Santa, demanded. I did, my bare-naked ass now exposed upward at him like a dog in heat presenting herself to a mate. Santa mounted me and like last Christmas, slamming his huge, magical dick into my tight, little boypussy hole doggy-style, making me his. Mrs. Claus came up to the side of the bed and then crawled under me to where she could put her mouth around my ****. So as Santa Claus fucked my ass Mrs. Claus was sucking my dick. When Santa climaxed, seeding me with his semen, I came too, almost choking Mrs. Claus with my boyjuice, who was able to swallow all of it.

Santa layed on the bed next to me, his fat, hairy arms around my skinny, smooth ladyboy body, Mrs. Claus layed on the other side next to me, her wrinkly but feminine arms also around me. "I wish you would touch me like that Santa, as you touch Chrissy," Mrs. Claus said, making me uncomfortable.
"Ho, ho, ho!" Answered Santa. "It's okay, We have Chrissy now." What did that mean? That I was to continue satisfying both of them? "Not for very long," I added. "Just until I am able to get home."
"That will be at least a year," Mrs. Claus commented.
I sat up more in shock. "A year? Why?"
"No one leaves Santa's Village but Santa and that is only on Christmas Eve." said Mrs. Claus.
"And since this Christmas Eve is over, you'll have to wait until next year," Santa added.
"I can't wait until next year! I got a life to get back to. People will miss me!"
"I'm sorry, Chrissy, but we just don't have any way of getting you home otherwise."
"You can't just take me anytime? Have an elf fly the sleigh?"
"If people saw Santa's sleigh flying around on any other night than Christmas Eve that would be a scandal."
"But a whole year!"
"You're not a prisoner. You can walk away anytime. But this is the North Pole. You won't get very far." said Mrs. Claus. "And I couldn't bear to see my baby boy get hurt again." She kissed me on the forehead, while groping my ****, as she said this.
"But you have it good here. Free food and board...a warm bed...hot cocoa...and Mrs. Claus and I to sexually satisfy you, ho, ho, ho!" Santa said. "All you have to do for a year is relax and enjoy great sex. Ho, ho, ho!"
"And the elves can have a break, Santa," Mrs. Claus said.
"Well, we'll see about that. Chrissy is hot and all, but I do like my little elves," said Santa, "ho, ho, ho!"
"But not me..." Mrs. Claus said sadly.
"Oh, honey, I do love you," Santa said. "But yes, I need something else sexually. Heck, half the reason I took the job I do on Christmas Eve was to be able to **** so many different people. Like Chrissy! Ho, ho, ho!"
Santa grabbed my face again and kissed me, saying, "don't worry. You'll like it here. Ho, ho, ho!"
Mrs. Claus grabbed my dick again and got close to me too, whispering, "I guarantee it."
And that was my experience with Santa and Mrs. Claus. Ho, ho, ho!

Santa & Mrs. Claus: Threeway at the North Pole Continued: She jumped up and down on my ****, as she was doing that I was massaging her boobs. Then I sat up and kissed her, we exchanged tongues and sucked on each other's lips as I groped her backside. Her age was far from my mind. I was able to force her on to her back on my bed so I could top her. It has been way too long since I was in that position over anyone, especially a woman. It felt so good to be the dominant alpha, the one in control, for a change. Normally I am very submissive and only receive...again, being treated like a girl. And I could tell Mrs. Claus was enjoying it, too. The moans, cries, screams, and yells and other sounds she was making, plus the huge smile on her face, told me she was in Heaven.

I plowed her over and over....the bed was shaking back and forth as I thrusted into her again and again...getting deeper each time...her old but wet ***** felt like a moist velvet glove around my rock hard penis and I wanted very much to seed her and leave my DNA in her. I was going to conquer Santa's wife, Mrs. Claus!
"Ho, ho, ho!" Just then we heard that now familiar and loud, hearty laugh come from outside the room. "Damn!" Exclaimed Mrs. Claus. "Santa is home! He's early!"
I didn't climax, but pre-cum did leak into her vag as I asked, "what do we do?"
She pushed me off her and got up, fixing herself. "Cover yourself back up," Mrs. Claus instructed. "Try to look innocent."
I did.
Just then Santa walked in. Again, looking like the stereotypical Santa from every commercial and holiday movie or story. "What is going on here?" he demanded.
"We found Chrissy hurt after a bad crash and brought him back her to recoup," Mrs. Claus explained.
"Chrissy?" Santa asked with a smile, obviously reminiscing about the time he fucked me. He then saw me laying in bed. "CHRISSY!" he then yelled joyfully. "Ho, ho, ho! Imagine you being here! Ho, ho, ho!"
We were able to relax now knowing how happy Santa was. "Did Mrs. Claus take good care of you?" Santa asked me..

Don't forget to message me on zangi or telegram. For my cum videos and pictures too

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Im so obsessed with my favourite dress! looking at it and gently feeling around it and pressing my boner into the huge full skirt is heaven! Its hard not to cum in myself when doing it!

Good morning my dears! I love my 80s blue bridesmaid dress! The dress feels so smooth and soft! My hands were gently all over the huge full skirt! Feel like i want to cum! Mmmm