In my deep sleep, I found my dreams to be just the kind that I find so ideal. Pierre had put me in a wonderful state of mind! I recalled being made love to and the intensity I had just experienced. It was like I was reliving it. In my dreams, I was so comforting that when I woke, I had a contented smile and a very stimulated male hood. I had to do everything I could to keep my hands from causing me to orgasm by myself.
I laughed thinking that my dance and sexual session with Pierre was perhaps my first Casting Couch experience! Even though I was confident I had the part, the sex wasn’t really intended to impress him and convince him. The sex was simply an expression of my own personal naughtiness and need at the time! I loved handsome, manly guys now that I had grown up! I could be shameless and meet those emotional and physical needs that I possessed. I liked that about myself.
By early evening I prepared myself for the night, redoing my make-up in as spectacular a fashion as I am able. My false eyelashes were spectacularly long, and my nails polished with perfection in deep red. It was cold outside and though I knew the club had dressing rooms, I wore my dance outfit beneath a pretty, pink silk, ridiculously frilly and feminine dress. I also took my very elegant, favorite secondhand store purchase, my full-length mink coat.
The mirror told me I looked like an elegant, and sexy, Parisian woman. To me, I felt quite perfect, and I felt that I was more than sexy enough for the Montreal night! I called an Uber for my trip to the club. I knew parking there was next to impossible and fees in nearby parking garages were practically a king’s ransom! The driver was Indian and was very friendly to me. When he found out that I only spoke English, he thought that was odd. I told him I was an American.
Suddenly the ride was spent in his apparently genuine queries and questions about what America was like. Dropping me off in front of the club, he suddenly understood that my slightly deep voice meant I was not a real girl at all. “You trans?” he asked quizzically. I smiled and nodded yes as I paid the fare with a tip as well. I loved that it took my destination for him to realize my reality.
I went inside the club and though it was only nine P.M. - it was already busy, especially in the bar area. I explained that I was a performer and one of the security men showed me to the dressing room where I could leave my mink coat. It was empty but filled with mirrors, chairs, tables, make-up and more. Pierre apparently saw me come in and greeted me. He had me pose for photos with a dark-haired beauty and fifteen minutes later, mine and another performer's sexy likenesses were on a poster advertising us.
By eleven, when the show started, this place would be queen central! It was literally standing room only in the club. There were at least a dozen performances scheduled for both eleven and one o’clock! I had a couple of drinks at the bar, and I was approached by many a guy and woman! They asked if I was in the show, and I must have met more people in the next hour than I had met most anywhere. I was struck by people’s friendliness and how much they seemed to adore a gurl like me! I could definitely live comfortably in the city of Montreal.
As eleven approached, the nerves began to hit me. I went to the dressing room and checked my make-up and got into my minimalistic stripper-like outfit. I decided on a whim to cover myself in my mink coat, thinking that an elegant look might be a good way to come out when I was introduced. I was far from elegantly dressed beneath it!
Suddenly it was my turn to take the stage. I was the second performer of the night following the brunette I had taken a picture with. The music was loud as I walked, purposely and sensually sashaying my way to the middle of the stage where the spotlight hit me straight on. I smiled, excitedly nervous, and the music began. I switched to my well-practiced moves and was so lost in my dance, I suddenly realized my mink was in the way. Making sure I was still carefully tucked inside my panty bottoms, I tantalizingly showed off my shoulders.
Like a true stripper, my instincts kicked in and I teased the removal of the coat with a few subtle flashes of skin before dropping it to the floor of the stage. Now I was more exposed than I ever had been in public. My boyish, almost flat breasts were fully exposed as were my legs and ninety-nine percent of my smooth, trim body. Then a sudden roar of applause from the crowd had me grinning in joy.
Backstage, I found myself in front of a mirror and sat with my mink over my lap. The dressing room was buzzing with gurls in all states of dress and undress. I looked at myself in the mirror as I was pleased as I could be. I had succeeded at my crazy goal of being a drag performer and even stripper! Moments later, I got a pat on the back and a kiss on the cheek from Pierre. The girls backstage said I must be special and I smiled to myself.
It was hard to believe I would be doing this all over again later at one in the morning. I threw on a flowing short red dress I had brought and went out to the bar to watch the rest of the show. I must admit, it was amazing. There were a half dozen lip-synch performers, the hostess (and part owner) who told jokes, and other, shall l we say, interesting acts! There were women as men, comedians and more! I had a couple more drinks and reveled in the attentions that I got from admirers at the bar!
At one, and now half drunk, I performed again and honestly, about the only thing that I remember was walking off the stage to generous applause! I was exhausted. It was well past my bedtime! I had my flight instinct kick in and my weariness told me that I needed to go.
I took a cab out front that took me back to Pierre’s home. I found my way to the bedroom and put on a sheer red camisole that I loved to sleep in. I went to the bath, and I looked very tired in the mirror. I found the bed and I was so spent that I fell deeply asleep in seconds.
I was having a pleasant enough dream. In the dream, I was being comfortably held and spooned. I was being kissed on the neck and felt a wondrous warmth. At first, I was unaware that my circumstance was not a dream at all. I was just so tired, and half passed out - so little did I know that Pierre had found his way under the covers with me. It must have been almost morning yet like a gentle surgeon - his caresses and gentle kisses had me more than awake.
Soon I was swooning in a state of half-sleep. His arms were around me and his hands gently squeezed my nipples beneath my camisole. I was awake now, though my eyes were still closed. I groaned in pleasure and a bit of purposeful pain being inflicted on me – likely in the hope of waking me! I felt his hardness against my bottom and my only concern was whether or not he was wearing a condom.
For a moment I “assumed” this was obviously Pierre, but until he told me how good I felt, I wasn’t completely sure! Thankfully when I reached back, I felt the lubrication on the condom. I then instinctively and shamelessly helped him find his way into my all too willing bottom! I just so love romantic, capable men, especially when they are hung as spectacularly as he.
When I am held by a handsome, masculine man in such a state of nakedness I am so at peace. My smooth hairless body, my girlish, petite appearance, and the scent of my perfume combined with Pierre’s cologne put me in what I can only describe as my magical place. I am all gurl in his arms, in my mind, and in my need and want for him. I believe completely that I am supposed to be fucked by him! It is why I dress as a complete woman. It is why I so enjoy everything feminine, and it seems in every which way!
Pierre certainly understands this about me. Earlier after my casting couch session, he learned just how much I enjoyed everything from his cock to his skill as a man and lover. He also was quite attuned to my femininity and to my willing submissiveness. Now as his huge, hard cock begins to enter my behind, I am already in a state of rapture and contented excitement! I am his tonight. I want to please him greatly. Interestingly, the pleasure of pleasing him brings me the ultimate in enjoyment and delight!
As welcome as I find his huge, thick, eight-plus-inch cock, his entry is not as easy as I might hope. I must help spread myself and meet his thrusting for us to become one in our lust. There is discomfort at first, but I know that it will be followed by wonder and for me what is the ultimate joy. Soon after several firm but gentle thrusts, there is a smile developing on my tired but waking face.
Pierre fucks me with firm strokes, but he is surprisingly gentle. He kisses my neck and massages my soft, boyish breasts and I’m in seventh heaven. On our sides and spooning, I find this lovemaking position about as comfortable as any I can recall. I am now quite fully awake and my honest and thankful words - “Oh yes, baby” are high-pitched and clear. Now I almost feel tortured. There is such teasing delight in having him thrust so deeply inside me. I am his instrument, and he is a true maestro!
I often get very hard when being made love to and I realize just how hard my seven inches are when he firmly takes hold of it in the middle of our late-night fuck dance. His strong grip on my cock has become a torturous, yet thrilling pleasure. This reality is causing me to panic because I am a pleaser and I believe in allowing my lover to orgasm before I do. Afraid and not wanting to disappoint, I warn him. “No, Baby, I’ll come,” I blurt in a desperate-sounding whimper. Pierre clearly doesn’t care. He pulls on me more firmly. “Come, my sweet, come!” Pierre says teasingly. “I want my sexy little gurl to come for Daddy.”
I’m losing control now so rapidly that I know that my cock and body are but seconds from eruption. I whine helplessly, unable to be in control. Now completely powerless and vulnerable, the waves of pleasure hit me like a wall. His milking of my cock is relentless, and I feel electric delight, shock waves. They begin in my head and soon spread through my body. My cock explodes with my own genetic fluids. My anus is so stimulated by his hard thrusts that my insides are now in spasm around his cock. My anus tightens and pulses uncontrollably around his hard member and I suddenly hear Pierre cry out.
In one of the longer growls I’ve ever heard from a man in the throes of lovemaking, Pierre’s exhortations fill the bedroom. He is clearly moved, and he is coming almost as powerfully as I! To my delight, I suspect my own internal spasms and my quivering insides have been the cause of Pierre’s almost equal elation. I am even more lost now than ever in my own still quaking orgasm. My body is shuddering and the high-pitched wails escaping my mouth are like that of a struggling songbird! His huge member in my backside is still relentlessly causing spasms and delights so profound that I am breathless and unable to speak.
Slowly, the powerful joy begins to ebb. I still feel a high and joy that I cannot begin to express. I could be called many things for my sexual proclivities and appetite, but I could not be more pleased and happier. Pierre and I are one, stuck together in perspiration and post-coital enchantment. Pierre stays and we fall asleep. It’s like a fairy tale with no pun at all intended.
Morning finds him bringing me breakfast. How could a gurl be any happier or more flattered! He invites me to a costume party in the evening. He wants me to be his escort. It looks like my part-time position as a dancer is on ice! We shop later at a fancy-lingerie and costume shop which he arranged to have opened special for us this Sunday. He buys a sheer genie outfit for the ages, and it is fit for me as we wait. I feel special beyond words. The evening will be eventful, but I’ll have to save that story for yet another time! Dreams don’t have to be dreams. Hard work and good company can bring us the joy that we want and need!
