Dan's drab life is a world away from his secret life as Danielle, the burlesque star of Tomasz's transvestite nightclub, Trans-Action.
Having found 'her' inner T girl as a student, Danielle has discovered the power of her femininity and her talent to entice and excite—but she realizes that Dan's life is losing the passion it once had.
As Danielle's relationship with Tomasz takes her deeper into both her lover and his world, encountering passions neither thought they dare explore, demure Francine is too often left to her own devices and desires. Her only release is in the fantasies inspired by the customers who pass through her life and her patisserie.
Does she want a man in her life or a woman? Or both...
Seeing her man exploring her wardrobe she decides to embrace the power of her own sexuality. Then a sizzling encounter with Tomasz unlocks the vixen in her and sets their two worlds on a collision course.
Can Dan bring Dan's world and Danielle's together—especially when he discovers Danielle's secret lover secretly loving Francine?
Or will Tomasz come between them both?
Excerpt
Tomasz gazed at her, barely able to
breathe, let alone speak. Her half closed eyes burned into him. He
gazed deep into them for a moment, falling into them, then his
attention fell to her hand, still resting on the damp silk mound of
her pussy. Her breathing was labored and heavy, her lips, soft and
red, parted. His hand cupped the bulge in his perfectly pressed
trousers, slowly stroking along the length of its hardness but he
couldn't stop.
Her eyes locked onto the movement of
his hand. A smile that was halfway between an angel and a slut spread
over her face. She looked up and her eyes met his again, hers burning
with a fire that held his gaze, and she slipped her fingers inside
the dampness of her panties, gently sliding a single fingertip over
her still pulsing clit. A soft moan escaped her parted lips like a
whispered invitation.
He stepped forward and cupped her face
in his hands, gazing even deeper into the post orgasmic haze of the
infinite depths of her green eyes. She looked up at him, inviting his
kiss, wordlessly, and with her other hand reached for his hand, the
hand that was slowly, rhythmically, rubbing up and down the aching
need of his rigid cock. She flattened her palm on his and moved with
him.
They kissed, no words needed, his mouth
on hers, but hers the more powerful, needing to own and control his
mouth, her tongue seeking out his. Her hand pressed against his,
taking control of his movement now, slowing it so that she could feel
how long and hard he was. And he was, so very hard, and long. She
wanted that, she needed that, in her, fucking her. She pulled his
hand up over his confined erection, slowly, so that they both felt
the total extent of his arousal, and then pushed it more forcefully
down and out of the way. He complied totally with her direction .He
was hers now, hers to play with, to use. The kiss intensified, and
her fingers unzipped him, reaching in, finding and grasping him. She
felt the wet silky tip of his cock under her fingers as she undid his
belt with her other hand, unbuttoning and freeing it so that she
could wrap her fingers around the full length of him.
Then he lifted her, his hands on her
hips, up onto the tabletop, and pulled himself closer to her. She
responded, wrapping her legs around his waist as her fingers eased
aside the wet silk of her panties. She guided the moist head of his
cock to rub against her clit, still tingling and pulsing, before she
slid it lower to rest, achingly, against her pussy lips. She denied
him entry, her hot, wet labia brushing, teasing him. Her hand wrapped
around him stopped him from thrusting into her, despite his burning
desire now to just fuck her hard and fast and unload his tight balls
deep inside her. She kept him there, for just a few seconds that
seemed like hours to him. She let him enjoy the wet kiss of her pussy
lips on the moist tip of his cock, savoring the moment before she let
his thickness disappear into her, before she let him become enclosed
in the hot, wet embrace of her cunt. She was going to ride him to
heaven and he was going to love every second of it.
Author Bio
Faberge Nostromo grew up in the East
End of London before escaping to East Anglia. He has been a civil
servant, a tea boy, sound engineer, a librarian and an IT consultant
but always knew that he was a writer. He now lives deep in the heart
of Suffolk with his wife, son and too many guitars.
