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Extreme Mature Tranny Prostitute Story

“Hi honey, are we all set?”
“Yes babe, I’ll be round in about half an hour”
“Is it as we planned?”
“Pretty much, yes. Are you dressed as I said?”
“To the letter, hon”
“Good. I’ll see you in about 30 minutes. Thanks for this.”
“No : thank you”.
Dave was such a good, regular client. He always phoned when he said he was going to phone and never let me down for a meet when he had booked. Once he had booked an hour of my time but had hAd his shifts changed at work, and he had worked nights the night before. He still turned up for his meeting, and we just sat drinking coffee and chatting. I just gave him a courtesy blow job before he left as I had to at least empty him of his seed no natter how tired he was!
Tonight was no exception: he had phoned exactly on time. Now it was for me to fulfill my side of the deal and dress to please him. For this meeting he had requested a very precise outfit, with exacting details.
Dave hung up the phone, a dry cold smile adorned his hard, rugged face.
He has been seeing Tina regularly for about 5 years. She was everything he needed in an e****t, and sometimes a lot more! In his mid fifties, and divorced from his ex wife for many years he longed for a physical relationship and sought his fun in the form of prostitutes. Like so many others, once he reached around 40 he had admitted he was actually bi sexual and had interactions with many cross dressers at various dogging locations and public toilets, before he actively searched for a ‘real’ transvestite e****t on the internet.
After trying a few out, he found Tina and had never been with any other since, as she met his very exacting and often changing demands with so much enthusiasm, he didn’t need to get his kicks from anywhere else.
He had been sat in the car park for some. 20 minutes or so, and had seen a steady stream of guys of varying ages sizes and statures, enter the cottage one by one. A few had left but he estimated that there must be at least five in there.
Crossing my legs to zip up my black PVC knee high boots, I held the cigarette in my lips whilst I struggled with the awkward zips. Finally achieving my aim, I pulled the boots up to their full extent and stood in front of the mirror and admired the view.
I felt at ease dressed like this. I loved dressing to order.
My seamed black stockings were positioned perfectly: the seams running down the centre of both legs, dissapearing into the sexy black boots.
The clips on my burlesque cup less basque were metal, like in the 70s. Very sexy. My boobs were pushed up and together. This basque made them look absolutely fantastic, Dave was going to be impressed. My thick pearl necklace and dangly pearl earrings also enhanced my appearance – but what completely rounded off my look was my make up. Just as he had asked I had my make up ‘heavy’. Lots of foundation followed by masses of face powder. My blusher was dark brown, sweeping up over my cheek bones. My eyes were coated in bright blue eye shadow and I wore thick black eye liner. Finally, my lips were over painted in bright red sticky glossy lipstick, and were lined with a dark red lip lining pencil. Yes! I had certainly achieved the. 70s porn star look that he had requested in his telephone booking some three days before.
Dave picked up the portfolio folder off the passenger seat of his car and opened his door to make the short walk to the cottage.
As he did this the interior light of his car came on, and he quickly rolled up the folder before closing the door on his exit.
As he got into the cottage it was a normal scene from a sex cottage. Lots of dark dimly lit figures milling about whilst two men were stood side by side at the ‘troughs’ obviously playing with each other’s cocks.
Dave was an expert at this. So confident and assured.
“Anybody like trannies?” He asked loudly. All movement stopped in the place and although he didn’t get any verbal answers he had their attention.
“I’m talking about a good tranny. She looks like a whore… Here’s her pictures.” He passed the folder to the nearest guy.
“She lives about three minutes drive away and is ready for anyone right now.
“Fucking hell!” Said the guy flicking through the pages of the folder.
“Is this for real?”

Updated: October 21, 2016 — 1:23 pm

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