Femme Fatale

Cindy shook her hand. "Cindy."

"Femme Fatale is too good a store to go out of business - and it won't, not after I write an article about it in my magazine."

"You're a publisher?"

Daphne nodded, smiling. "Transsexual Express. Have you read it?"

"Are you kidding? I'm a subscriber!"

Daphne gave Cindy an appraising look. "You?"

Cindy grinned. "Yes, I'm a transsexual, too."

Derek's cock was rising again. The front of his pants was bulging. He couldn't believe his ears! Cindy was a transsexual, too! He'd worked at Femme Fatale for an entire month and had never guessed the tall, pretty sales clerk was a shemale. He, who'd longed to meet a transsexual for years, had worked alongside one for the past four weeks and, today, he'd encountered a second, even lovelier one!

Daphne seemed to catch sight of Derek for the first time. She smiled at him, licking her lips. "Oooh! A handsome stud works here, too?"

Cindy introduced them.

"What are you two doing after work?" Daphne asked.

"Nothing that can't be put off," Cindy said.

"The same," Derek blurted.

"Why don't you stop by my place?" She wrote the address on the back of a Transsexual Express business card, handing it to Cindy. "We can work on the article about Femme Fatale - among other things."

"It's a date," Cindy agreed.

"Definitely," Derek seconded.

Daphne glanced down, at the erection that bulged in the front of Derek's pants. "Bring that with you," she suggested.

Daphne lived in an exclusive penthouse apartment that overlooked San Diego Bay. Everything was white - the walls; the ceilings; the wall-to-wall carpet that covered the floors in every room, except the two bathrooms, which were laid with white tile; the couches, chairs, and tables; the bedsteads and dressers; even the lamps and shades.

"Wow," Derek said.