A Sissy Saga Ch. 24

Sammy looked shocked and slightly guilty when Jennifer loomed before him, but he remained standing still. Pamela turned her head to gawk up and the sight of a biker-girl dressed in dolly-mixture hues of Juicy Couture velour, robbed her of breath, leaving her quite speechless for a moment. A breeze lightly caressed her hot cheeks. Her mind began racing and she laughed shrilly, unable to hide her embarrassment. "The dear thing - I was trying to help him - I think he's got a wood splinter in his - er - penis."

Jennifer's lips tightened and her stormy hazel eyes locked with hers. She had never met this particular woman before but that didn't stop her dominant nature from rising up, and when she was on top she was habitually insouciant and irreverent.

"A wood splinter?" She moved closer and peered over the woman's shoulder, then smiled wryly. "Looks like it's got half a cricket stump stuffed down it to me."

Devilishly she cupped a hand behind the woman's head and urged her face forward. "But do continue with what you were doing. No one else will ever know, and you do want to taste everything this lovely creature can offer, don't you. You'll only regret it if you don't use the opportunity you now have."

Strangely Pamela felt ashamed, terrified and jubilant all at the same time. She didn't wish to back away and the strange girl was encouraging her, almost giving her permission.

She eased Sammy back against the wall and knelt before him. Giving in to her most licentious appetite she ran her tongue along the upper flesh of his girlish thighs until it could go no higher. With one hand she lifted his scrotum and began to lick his wrinkled sac, inadvertently, or perhaps purposely rubbing her cheek against his jutting penis.

Opening her lips wide she gently took his testicles in her mouth, moving her tongue from side to side, and on releasing them she traced the tip of her tongue up feel its contours and the soft vein along the length of his penis until it reached the shiny pink head. How could she do such a disgusting thing? And with a teenage girl watching every move!

It didn't seem to matter. The girl was right, she had to use the opportunity. Wickedly she twirled the tip of her tongue around the sissy boys fleshy helmet and poked into the tiny slit before she drew her lips together around it to form a warm, moist airtight seal.

Slowly, very slowly so that she could provide the maximum pleasure, she moved her head up and down, filling her mouth with warm saliva to give lubrication. With each movement she swallowed a little more of him, taking in his rigid flesh until her mouth was full of rampant she-boy cock. It wasn't long before Sammy slumped back and closed his eyes. He croaked, his body stiffened and his muscles tensed, and as he began to pant Pamela eased away.

"Don't stop." Jennifer said, "You've started so you may as well finish. Let me help you." She took hold the sissy penis herself and began to move her fingers up and down the shaft.

Pamela Upduff quaked slightly. "Oh dear! I've never - ever - not even with my boyfriend..."

Undeterred Jennifer held the stiff penis in one hand while reaching into Pamela's hair. Forcefully she guided the woman's head, abruptly pulling her face onto the purple plum and urging her to get back to work and try harder. "I insist you finish what you've started," she nagged, "And I insist that you swallow the result. Drink all of it. And mind your manners and remember not to talk with your mouth full."

Submitting dumbly to the directives given to her, Pamela started again. She did just as Jennifer insisted, she clamped her lips over Sammy's vibrant, smeary helmet and sucked avidly. She knew what would eventually happen of course - it was what she wanted to happen, it was a thing she sometimes daydreamed about - but would she accept the reality or be revolted by it?

The sissy-vamp make a loud moaning sound of a kind she'd rarely heard before and it made her lips move with increasing frenzy, forward and back, then forward again taking the succulent flesh as deep as it would go. Caught up in the throes of hot excitement she clasped the sissy's bare buttocks with one hand and burrowing a finger into his anus, feeling the hot insides close around it as she pushed it in and out of his tight, hot tunnel. Then she flinched as the young man, enfolded in a paroxysm of pleasure, uttered a shuddering squawk and ejaculated his sissy-boy juice into her mouth.

Her former misgivings were settled immediately when she allowed the squirting penis to empty its entire squidgy hot load and didn't make an attempt to avoid any of it. In fact she greedily gathered the bolus of it on her tongue, and shaking with excitement she consumed every drop the pantywaist could deliver, even licking her lips before drawing away

The afternoon drew to a close; clouds were building up over the church spire of St Barnaby two miles away in the village as a large chauffeur driven limousine elegantly crunched the gravel at the side of the house. It was a prelude to whisking the newly married Mrs Boroclough and her feminine boy-wife away on the first leg of the journey to their honeymoon retreat.

Poppy came out from the house where he'd been given a chance to change into his going-away outfit, which on this occasion was unquestionably demure and debonair. His face was made-up in feminine splendour and everyone admired the bright turquoise two-piece suit he was wearing, a bolero jacket over a frilly white blouse and a skirt cut just above his knees. On his feet were a pair of shoes with heels that looked like they could puncture concrete.

"I'll come and see you when we get back." he promised Miriam with a sad, pouty face. "I'll come and visit just as soon as I get back from Tuscudy."

Jennifer noticed that Clementine and her boyfriend, the woman's raffish looking grandson Alistair were accompanying them on their honeymoon. It was a strange arrangement and one that guaranteed Mrs Boroclough didn't intend to monopolise the blushing bride.

"Poppy will never be anything other than an effeminate sexual slave who may have a few privileges." she remarked to her mother.

Miriam expressed no concern. "Such an arrangement will suit him well enough. He's quite happy being told what to do, and being faithful to one lover as never been his strong point."

Jennifer knew that. She knew he was in the habit of seducing the delivery boys or any other male that came to the back door, and she could always tell from the glow on his face when such a thing had happened. But marriage? Could such a thing work? she pondered. What if it were only a passing fancy with Mrs Boroclough, a holiday romance sort of fling? She said she loved him. But how could she love him? And why?

The answer was fairly easy when she thought more about it: Poppy was a promiscuous prick pleasing featherbrain, but he was also beautiful and gentle and vulnerable in an old fashioned way. It would be easy for anyone to fall in love with him.

"I do hope things go well for him, but I have the terrible feeling that this so-called wedding has been nothing more than an elaborate amusement for a bored society hostess."

Miriam felt just a little uneasy, but she was convinced that being wedded to a woman like Mrs Boroclough would be ideal for Poppy. She offered a superior sort of love - one with a very good bank balance attached, which would replace his previous rather precarious life with a glorious tapestry of comfort, style and opportunity. And what was more, according to Poppy himself, she was a much better lover than most men.

"So do I." she admitted, "But as an insurance against the woman becoming bored and throwing him out I insisted she set up a trust-fund he can access on his twenty-first birthday. He won't be left penniless, and he can always return to me."

As the limousine drew away Poppy's eyes sparkled and he grinned gleefully as he waddled his fingers against the window. Everyone waved and shouted back. "Good luck." "See you soon." "Have a nice time."

"I shall miss the dear creature." declared Miriam wiping away the threat of a tear. "We've been together a long time and he's become a sort of second daughter to me. But I think he'll be happy. I think he's found his feet and his home."

"And Mrs Boroclough as probably found her clitoris." added Jennifer.