My first shemale

I had her bend over further and lavished my tongue and mouth on her anus, balls and cock. After I gave everything a good washing I turned her around and pulled her cock into my mouth as I fondled her chestnuts. A minute or so later she shuddered as I drained her of more of her love offering. When she finally caught her breath she said, “You still want more? Well, buster, you’re going to have more.”

By the time I was back in my room and showered my cock was wonderfully sore; my balls ached delighfully, as did my ass, but it was all so worth it.

Jamie and I met for a quick breakfast. On the plane we managed to get seats together near the back of the plane. As there was no one else near us we misbehaved and ran our hands all over each other.

It took some doing and she resisted several times, but I managed to talk her into going to the toilet with me. Inside I dropped to my knees, pulled down her purple thong, stuck my head under her skirt and hurriedly brought her cock into my mouth as I fondled her balls. “I never thought I’d join the Mile High Club,” I heard her giggle as one hand clung onto the back of my head and she hurriedly pumped her darling cock into my willing mouth. She made little satisfying noises and I knew she was ready before she let a more than respectable load into me.

When at last she stopped convulsing, I licked her clean and she pulled up her thong. We panted as noisily as old fashioned locomotives. When we finally caught our breath she gave me a quick kiss, winked and whispered, “You’re now my sex slave, you little bitch.”

An impatient knock on the door reminded us where we were. As we slunk out the door, a middle-aged woman she gave us a disapproving look. I didn’t care; niether did Jamie. Back at our seat she rewarded me by sticking her tongue deep into my throat, tasting herself and rubbing my erection. She stuck her tongue in my ear and whispered, “I wish I could blow you too.” In answer I looked back at the washroom She slapped my hand and said, “No!”