Bad Girls / Promiscuity

Fiction or Fact

Fiction or Fact
By Suzanne Knight

It had been too long, way too long and I was frustrated. All the masturbating, sitting on dildos and filthy cyber conversations weren't enough. I needed to be touched, I needed to be desired, I needed a man. Now it is not always easy for a transvestite to find a man and to be honest many of my encounters with men had not gone that well. All right, truth be told, the only satisfying relationships I had ever had were of the "slam bang, thank you ma-am err sir" variety. Tranny chasers are OK but my personal favorite is the straight acting bi-curious type that has an itch that needs to be scratched. Now on rare occasions I have picked up straight guys who either were too dense to read me or too horny to care. One of those encounters ended very badly so I stopped doing that even though it was by far the most exciting sex I have had.

Crossing the (Border) Line

My name is Sam Parker, and I am 40 years old, single and I live in Boston. I am an independent sales representative for manufacturing companies, and my territory covers New England and New York State. My largest single account is in Montreal, Canada and I am up there every other week. It is a great deal of driving and many nights in motels but I have no family to miss, and it allows me to indulge in my hobby, cross-dressing, as much as I want.

Now I am bisexual and in my male persona I enjoy female companionship, but what really turns me on is sex with a man when I am in my female persona. Unfortunately I had a very bad experience with a creep I met on line last year so I have been oh so careful about dating men. That has resulted in very little sex and a great deal of frustration and pent up desire for Samantha, my female alter ego. Now looking back, that was probably what caused my life to be so completely changed. There may have been some red flags but I didn't see them, probably because I wasn't looking for that kind of trouble.

Spelling Errors

Preamble: Magic is very fickle, and when the Goddess of Chaos is angry
at you for fouling up something she was quite entertained with, you
might as well forget anything ever going 'rite'.

(unfinished story at this time)

The Long Road Home

As I struggled through the fog toward consciousness, the first thing I noticed was the overwhelming smell of perfume, accompanied by the no-less-permeating odor of cleaning fluid. My head was resting against some vinyl upholstery, and I could feel the persistent rumbling of an engine all around me. I wanted to open my eyes, but it seemed to take forever to make my body do anything at all. Instead, I just lay there and tried to figure out what the hell was going on.

I felt the world swing around, just for a second, then settle down and resume its steady rumbling. 'Wherever I am, I'm moving,' I thought. 'Feels like a bus. What am I doing on a bus?' I vaguely remembered leaving the gym, and walking toward my car, and then ... nothing.