tagTranssexuals & CrossdressersQuid Pro Quo Ch. 01

Quid Pro Quo Ch. 01


She had spent the better part of the summer in that chaise-lounge, and Paul smiled to himself as he saw her there again, stretched-out and lounging lazily by the pool. His neighbor's wife Isabella was truly a gorgeous woman, and while she had spent much of the summer months out by the pool, Paul had spent just as many moments gazing from his office window at her flawless body. He found himself drifting from the dreariness of his work, and he was once again staring longingly at the statuesque young woman below. His eyes slowly traced every contour of her form, committing each curve to memory, voraciously taking in the experience of her body.

As his eyes darted across her body, she suddenly brought her hand up to cover the sun from her eyes, and she glanced upwards to Paul's window. Terrified, he froze in his place, momentarily transfixed by the fear of his situation. His face burned red with embarrassment, but she smiled gently and offered a conciliatory wave in his direction. Shaking, Paul barely managed to return the gesture. Without another thought, Isabella rolled over and exposed her beautiful back to the sun. Paul desperately tried to tear himself from the window, but the sight below him was too much, and his erection began to grow. Her olive tone skin glistened in the sunlight as Paul began to absently stroke himself through the fabric of his pants. He longed to be down there next her, to tear away the flimsy fabric of her bikini, and revel in the beauty of her body. Unzipping his pants and dropping them to the floor, Paul quickened his pace. He imagined her shapely long legs wrapped around him as they made love in the sunlight, her sweet Latin accented voice urging him on with each lust-driven thrust.

Paul's climax came on him suddenly and forcefully. Without warning, his seed shot across the desk and splatted audibly against the windowpane. Panicked, Paul quickly grabbed a Kleenex and began to wipe away at the glass, noticing only too late that Isabella had turned to face him once again. Paul was crimson as she waved at him once again, offering him a sly and all-too-knowing smile. Before he could respond, she motioned for him to come over. Paul stood motionless, hoping his silence would erase the incident altogether. Her voice, muffled by the separation of the glass, called out, "Paul, how about you come over for a drink?" There was no avoiding his predicament now, and Paul gathered himself together as he pondered his apologies to Isabella.

By the time Paul had made his way down the stairs and out through the back door to his neighbor's pool, Isabella had risen from her chaise-lounge and was now sitting seductively sipping a drink at the patio table. Her eyes flashed with sudden glee as she saw Paul sullenly making his way towards her. He tried to think of something to excuse his behavior. "Isabella, I am so sorry, I just lost control..." Before he could finish his thought, she closed the distance between them, standing uncomfortably close to Paul's trembling body. Once again, the sly smile came across her face, and she sipped slowly at her drink, torturing Paul with her silence. He lowered his head and muttered, almost incomprehensibly, "Isabella, I just... I should never have... I mean, you're so beautiful."

After an exceedingly long pull at the straw in her piña colada, she brought her small hand to the side of Paul's face, caressing him softly as she raised his eyes to level her own. Isabella parted her lips, and broke the awkward silence, "Paul, I'm not upset." She turned again towards the patio and walked to the bar, "Now, didn't I invite you over for a drink?" Stunned, Paul followed her, entranced by the hypnotic movements of her hips as her high-heels clicked along the mosaic patio.

She flashed Paul her sly smile again, and leaning across the bar she asked, "What do you want Paul... to drink?" With her palms pressed down on the bar surface, and her body leaning forward, her full and perfect breasts seemed to taunt Paul all the more. She giggled to herself as she caught Paul staring at her body again. Coughing, Paul answered, "I'll just have whatever you're having, Isabella." She quickly poured Paul a piña colada, and, rolling her eyes, she teased, "I'm surprised, that's a girl's drink Paul!" Isabella casually walked out from behind the bar and made her way to the table once again, patting the seat of the chair next to her, motioning for Paul to come over.

Her tongue reached out and grabbed at the straw, and she took a long sip at her drink, "I saw you today Paul, but I think you know that already." Paul's momentary sense of comfort and safety vanished immediately, and his head sunk. "Now, now, that's not what I meant at all, " she comforted, "what I mean to say is that I think we might come to some sort of a deal." Paul was at a loss, "I don't think I understand what you're getting at, Isabella." She rolled her soft brown eyes again, "My husband and I have an open marriage, Paul, and an agreement of sorts, that we call our 'Quid Pro Quo.'" Paul's confusion was evident, and without allowing him a response, she continued, "If my husband wants to be with a woman, he must agree to share her with me, and vice-versa. It's very simple, Paul." Paul's mind whirled at the revelation that this beautiful creature was a bisexual, and his mind was suddenly filled with images of her tight olive-skinned body rubbing passionately against feminine flesh, "I think I understand, Isabella."

That curious smile came across her face again, and she jumped up from her chair, straddling Paul with her legs. Running her fingernails seductively down Paul's chest, she leaned forward and offered him a lust-filled kiss. Paul's heart raced as he responded to her sudden passion; he grabbed her waist, pulling her closer to him. Suddenly she pushed Paul's chest back with a playful thrust of her arms, "No, no, not yet, Paul. We need to wait for my husband Charles." The sudden mention of her husband's name brought Paul sharply back to reality. Charles was a tall and fit young black man, and a very successful corporate attorney. He puzzled to himself, "she didn't expect him to...was he supposed to... with Charles?"

Still straddling Paul's lap, Isabella sensed his sudden shock. "I understand if you're uncomfortable about this, Paul, and if you want to back out, I understand," she reached down to his crotch, and grabbed Paul's throbbing penis through the cloth of his pants, "but... something tells me that you're going to be here tonight at eight." With a playful squeeze of his penis, she slowly lifted herself off of Paul's lap, and wordlessly walked back through the open French doors to her house.

Paul must have sat in that chair for ten minutes before he could manage to stand, but eventually he rose, and in a strange daze, he made his way back to his own house. The thoughts that channeled through his mind were things that he had never questioned before; he had never considered himself to be bi-sexual and he had never thought of another man in a sexual sense. Despite all of his uneasiness, Paul couldn't escape his desire to be with Isabella. He knew that he would be there at eight.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Paul thought as he knocked on his neighbor's door. Moments later Isabella opened the door, wearing an impossibly short black mini skirt and a tight fitting low-cut top. She beamed as she welcomed Paul in, "So you've decided that you're interested?" Paul paused for a moment, and then nodded affirmatively.

Isabella jumped up and hugged him, planting an enormous kiss on his surprised face. Retreating briefly, she began to speak, "Paul, I'm afraid I haven't been entirely honest about what this deal entails. Charles is very specific about what he wants from a girl, and so we have a lot of work to do before he gets home." Paul's mind jumped at the word "girl," but still he followed the entrancing sway of Isabella's hip up the stairs, watching as her short skirt rose to reveal the tops of her seamed stockings. They made their way to the master bedroom, and Isabella playfully pushed Paul down on the bed. Straddling across his lap once again, she kissed him with sudden passion and pulled his shirt over his head. The kiss continued for some minutes as Paul caressed her body with an adolescent's sense of wonder. Giggling again, she pulled herself from Paul's hands and stood up. "Well, don't just sit there Paul, we have lots of work to do to get you ready. Take off your clothes and meet me in the bathroom."

Paul seemed to have no control of his actions as he quickly disrobed and followed the intoxicating woman to the enormous master-bathroom. Isabella was seated at the edge of the Jacuzzi tub, her beautiful legs crossed demurely, "Now hop inside Paul, don't waste time!" Almost reflexively, he followed her command and sat himself down in the lilac-scented warm water. That sly smile came to Isabella's sweet lips as he sat down, "Good Paul, now we can get to work. We're going to have to shave your legs so they'll look nice for Charles..." Paul's trance was broken by this suggestion, and, bristling, he blurted, "This is too much Isabella, I was willing to give this all a chance because I want you so much... but... I just... can't." Isabella's face darkened, and her enchanting brown eyes looked as though they might begin to well up with tears. She looked deeply at Paul, saying, "I just want to be you Paul, and this is the only way we can have that..." Before Isabella could finish, he took the razor from her hand and began to awkwardly shave his legs.

As he dried himself with the towel, Paul noticed that the feminine lilac smell seemed to linger on his body, and that the sensations of being suddenly hairless were surprisingly alluring. Seeing Paul rise from the tub, Isabella ran forward and hugged his naked body deeply. As she brought her head up to kiss Paul, her hand reached down to fondle his growing erection. Paul's trance was fully on him yet again, and he knew he would do whatever this woman asked of him. They returned to the bedroom, and as Paul noticed that Isabella had laid out a number of outfits across the spacious bed, the whole scenario became very clear to him. A lingering voice in his mind screamed that he should gather up his clothes and get out of this place, but it was silenced as he saw the beautiful Isabella lean forward to reach a black lacy bra from the far end of the bed.

He became a mannequin of sorts as she dressed him in various outfits, trying out a dozen "looks" over the course of the next hour. She had fitted him with a short-length auburn wig, and with the effect of the makeup (and the painful process of plucking his eye-brows to be more feminine) Paul began to see an attractive young woman materialize in the mirror in front of him. Dressed in a top, skirt, and stockings much like Isabella's, Paul was almost proud of his transformation as he looked at his new self.

Before he could try on another outfit, the sound of a car engine could be heard pulling into the drive. Isabella perked up suddenly, "It's Charles! We haven't even thought of a name yet!" Paul was confused, but before he could speak, Isabella leaned forward, kissed him softly on the cheek, and said, "We'll call you Molly."

Charles had poured himself a scotch and was sitting leisurely on the large leather couch when Isabella and Molly came downstairs, looking up at the two lovely young women, he smiled, "I see we have company, you haven't started without me, have you?" Isabella rushed down the remaining stairs and plopped herself into Charles lap, flinging her arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. "Of course not baby," she responded, "I never will forget our agreement." Molly awkwardly descended the stairs, unused to the feel of her new clothes and the impossibly high heels, and made her way across the room. A wide smile came across Charles' face, "And who are you, sweet little thing?" Paul blushed, and meekly responded in his best feminine voice, "Molly, sir."

Charles stood up from the couch, surveying his new acquisition, "I imagine my wife has explained to you the nature of our little agreement, correct?" Paul nodded, trying to ignore Charles' hands roving over his body. Smiling, Charles continued, "That's excellent Molly, I'm glad you understand." He paced around Paul, slapping him suddenly on the ass, "So you want to fuck my wife, or have her suck your cock? Is that what you want Molly?" Paul nodded again, demurely. Smiling, Charles laughed, "That's excellent Molly, but just so you understand the nature of our agreement, our 'quid pro quo' means that if you want to have my wife suck your dick, you'll have to perform the same service on me." Charles' brusque manner alarmed Paul, the crude words he used, cock and dick, seemed to ring in his ear. Shaken, Paul nodded reluctantly. Charles brightened again, and moved uncomfortably closer to Paul, saying, "Well now Molly, why don't we get to business."

Isabella rose from the couch and stood behind her husband, massaging his growing erection through his pants, "You know what to do Molly. I want you to make this as sexy as you can, as sexy as you want me to do for you later on. Can you do that for me Molly girl?" Without another word, Paul reached forward and felt the massive bulge in Charles' trousers, feeling the heat from his engorged penis. Molly's voice somehow came out of Paul's mouth, "I want to suck your penis, Charles." The tall black man laughed, saying, "Now little Molly, the first thing you need to learn is that this is a cock, not a penis. Tell me what you want to do again." Molly tried to mimic Isabella's seductive eyes as she looked up at Charles, "I want to suck your beautiful big cock, I want to swallow every drop of your cum. Please?" Without another word, Charles released his enormous penis from the confines of his pants, and slapped it against Molly's face.

Reaching out with her hand, Molly grasped the monstrous cock in front of her, and, for the first time in her life, she put a man's penis in her mouth. She sucked seductively on the tip, flicking her tongue rapidly across the head of that enormous cock. In her mind, she recalled the ministrations of Paul's former girlfriends, the girls from the hundreds of blow-job scenes he had downloaded from the internet. Molly did her best to copy all of these things, moaning as she bobbed up and down on Charles' enormous cock. She licked his cock from the base of his balls along the shaft to the head, all the while gazing longingly into the eyes of the tall black man above her. Molly covered his dick with saliva and then began bobbing up and down on his cock once again, trying to push the monster deeper into her throat. She gagged as his shaft plunged too deeply into her mouth, but Charles' strong hands reached behind her head and held her firmly, roughly shoving his cock all the way into her throat. He moaned in pleasure, "Oh my god baby, that's it, that's how you suck a cock." Strangely, Molly felt a sense of satisfaction in this. Somewhere in Paul's mind a voice called out, "What is happening?!"

Charles' pace quickened as he plunged his enormous dick in and out of Molly's throat, and when his legs tensed up, she knew that she would be tasting his cum any moment. Charles moaned loudly, and, shoving his cock deeply into Molly's throat once more, he released pulse after pulse of hot cum into her mouth. Her eyes flashed wih a sudden fear, and she instinctively swallowed the salty fluid in her throat. Charles pulled out of her mouth with an audible pop and fell backwards on the leather couch, exhausted. Molly, using her finger to collect the remaining cum from her face, licked up every last bit of Charles' cum and dutifully opened her mouth for her tall black lover to see. Charles grinned, "You are such a slut, Molly." The voice in Paul's head screamed out, "What the hell is happening to me?" Molly had ceased to listen.

"Quid pro quo, Molly, now it's your turn," Isabella said as she helped the still-dazed Molly to her feet. "You just lay back, and let Isabella take care of you sweetie." Molly felt strangely out of body, and she slumped backward on the couch as Isabella ran her hands along her thighs. Isabella pulled up Molly's skirt to her waist, and slowly pulled down the black satin panties covering Molly's hard cock. Isabella laughed suddenly, squealing, "Oh my god Charles, Molly came in her panties when she sucked you off!" Molly burned with embarrassment, knowing that this only proved she was a slut. Sensing her shame, Charles reached over and kissed Molly deeply, probing her mouth with his tongue. Isabella needed no further cue, and began expertly licking and sucking on Molly's already hard clit.

Molly moaned into Charles' mouth as they kissed, their tongues dancing back and forth. Isabella pulled off of the cock in front of her, and, licking her finger, she began to probe around the cute little rosebud of Molly's asshole. Sucking again with wild abandonment, she slowly inserted one finger, and then another, into Molly's tight virgin ass-pussy. Molly reeled at the sensations over-taking her as Charles and Isabella worked over her body. Charles groped at her every curve as his tongue darted across hers, and Isabella's expert mouth sucked deeply on Molly's hard little clitty as her fingers fucked Molly's ass-pussy with a steady rhythm. It was more than Molly could stand, and she came roughly against the roof of Isabella's beautiful with a girly yelp. Isabella jumped up and kissed the surprised Molly, trading back the enormous load of cum into Molly's slutty mouth. Molly swallowed it all down, greedily licking her lips.

Molly laid back against the couch, panting uncontrollably, unable to speak. Charles rose from the couch and wordlessly positioned Molly on her knees with her head facing over the back of the couch, her pert ass facing outward. He turned to his beautiful wife Isabella, and kissed her deeply. She took a tube of lubricant and began to spread it liberally around and inside Molly's tight pussy as Charles stroked his already hard cock. He slapped Molly's ass with his large hand, "Are you ready to become a real woman, Molly?" She couldn't answer, she only moaned in desperation, she needed to have him inside of her. Charles seemed angered at her silence, "What was that slut, I didn't hear you, do you want me to fuck your ass or not?!" Terrified at losing her chance, Molly screamed out, "Oh god Charles, Fuck me with your beautiful cock. I need to feel it deep in my ass. FUCK ME!!!"

Charles unceremoniously shoved his cock into Molly's ass-pussy as she let out a loud girlish squeal. He pushed until his entire dick was deep within Molly's hot and tight passage, and began to slowly grind his hips against her backside. She moaned loudly with the pleasure of the sensation, and screamed out again, "Fuck me Charles!" Taking his cue, Charles began roughly pumping himself in and out of Molly's tight pussy, pounding his hips into her backside as she whimpered and moaned with each thrust. The pleasure that Molly felt from Charles fucking her was unlike anything she had ever known, and she began to slam her hips back against his tall and virile frame as he plowed into her ass.

Charles began a pattern of pulling his cock all the way out of Molly's ass, and then shoving it roughly back in. The feeling was too much for Molly, and she soon felt her first womanly orgasm building within her body. Charles relentlessly continued his assault, and Molly screamed, "Oh my god, I'm going to... I'm going to.... CUMMMMM!" On this final scream, she released her cum all over the back of the sofa in a sudden torrent. Her tight pussy involuntarily clamped down on Charles' enormous cock, and he grunted loudly as he dumped shot after shot of semen deeply into Molly. Overcome by her own orgasm, she slumped over the back of the couch as Charles pulled himself from her gaping cunt. Giving her ass a final slap, he said, "You're never going to be the same again slut, all you're going to think about is serving this cock." As she watched the disheveled Molly fall lifeless against the sofa, Isabella giggled, "I swear Molly, it's like you forgot that it was me you were trying to fuck in the first place! Now clean up that mess you've left on my couch, and maybe I'll think about fucking you." Exhausted from her ordeal, Molly obediently began to lick up every drop of her cum from the back of the sofa, knowing that this was her new position in life.

Report Story

bySlut_Molly© 0 comments/ 85963 views/ 8 favorites

Share the love

Report a Bug

2 Pages:12

Forgot your password?

Please wait

Change picture

Your current user avatar, all sizes:

Default size User Picture  Medium size User Picture  Small size User Picture  Tiny size User Picture

You have a new user avatar waiting for moderation.

Select new user avatar: