Sandwich Girl

"Whew!" I said, wiping my slimy fingers on her bare hip near the flaming skull tat. "I can't carry around a hundred and fifty pounds like I used to!"

"One ten you dick!" she said, correcting me, wincing and arching her back, possibly at the discomfort of her contracting, suddenly vacant sphincter.

I then stepped away quickly as Jordan turned onto her side and struggled against her tied wrists and tried to kick at me, her legs stretching the black panty hose across her knees. Her lone shoe came off her left foot, flung at, but missing my leg as it thumped against the metal wall.

My pinkish-haired, feisty, naked, tattooed trans girl date looked beautiful lying on the gray rubber service elevator floor, pretty face flushed with frustration, pierced nipples stiffly peaked on top of her nearly spherical, wonderfully augmented, subtly bouncing breasts. She was angrily bucking her hips and pedaling her legs, forcing the panty hose down and making her mouthwatering, semi-hard cock whip around chaotically. I watched the wonderful sight and craved that dick again, even as the taste of her sperm lingered on my palate.

"Good idea," I said as I bent down to grab the leg of the pantyhose she had just freed from one foot, removed the other, and forcefully gathered her ankles and tied them together tightly, ruining the hose as Jordan cussed at me. I arose and then pressed all four buttons. "See ya," I said, then stepped quickly out of the elevator. I didn't like leaving her, but had to go carry out my evolving plans for the rest of the candle lit, romantic evening.

A series of angry screams echoed from the shaft, damning me, cries for help and declarations to any neighbors within earshot, repeating my full name and that I was a 'sick bastard'. Their volume and her pounding kicks on the metal walls diminished as the car ascended, stopping at each floor, doors opening and pausing on all four levels of the marsh view condo building.

I quickly ran my errands, returned to the elevator and pressed the call button. To my surprise the doors opened immediately. Clever Jordan had worked the buttons with her raised toes, and returned to the ground level. She had looped her bound feet around the end of one of the railings, and was about to free her ankles. While the vision of me chasing her all over the building with her tits bouncing and cock flailing was a dick- hardening one, I pushed her feet away.

"Ha ha, very funny, you asshole!" She said from down on the floor, tying not to smile. "There's no one else in this building, is there?"

"No," I said with a laugh. "Disappointed there was no audience?

"No, and no one's buying your stupid condos because you suck!"

Technically she was right about the 'suck' part, as of a few minutes ago, anyway. Jordan had easily figured out my little ruse, as the upper floors of the building were still unpainted, uncarpeted, and missing light fixtures. I was living here rent free more or less in the only finished unit, managing the pre-sales and construction project to completion, among other duties in the lower half of the state. My earlier, random selection of residence at this property in this town turned out to be quite lucky, based on the gorgeous, naked, twenty-three year old writhing on the floor in front of me. I couldn't believe this was the shy girl I initially thought had to be in high school when she took my first sandwich order.

"Very good, Sherlock. Nobody else, just me and the girl I'm gonna fuck," I replied with a grin.

"Ha! Forget it looser! I told you, you don't have my consent. Give me my dress and take me home," she said indignantly, her braces flashing.

"Eventually," I replied and grunted as I did a squatting lift to get her into a honeymoon carry, then started carting her down the hall, ink, tits, and the underside of her vein-laced, semi-hard dick well-lit. The head was hovering side-to-side over her navel piecing as I walked.

"I know you're used to dating old wheelchair women that can't walk and stuff," she said, her braces flashing, "I could walk myself if you untied me, you perv."

"You fucking love it," I said with a smirk.

"No I don't! And I don't like you!" She tried to hide her smile.

I just laughed as we turned a corner. I was so busy gawking at the thin but curvy naked beauty in my arms I almost walked past my propped open apartment door.

Inside, I had only a single table lamp on, and gas logs were burning in the fireplace, churning out a nice flame to warm my naked date. An opened champagne bottle, one of two I had bought for the occasion, sat on the coffee table in a bucket of ice. In front of the fireplace was a polar bear fur rug, a gift from my ex's parents years ago, retrieved from storage that afternoon.

"Yes, it's fake," I said to stave off any animal cruelty comments as I lowered her to the floor. I flipped her around until she was upright, but on her knees, the fire highlighting her svelte torso, beautiful tits and protruding dick, which never seemed to be fully soft. My cock throbbed at the sight of her in the yellow glow.

"Champagne?" I knelt opposite her and filled up the waiting two flutes, then held one in front of her. Since her hands were still tied behind her back, she simply gave me a dead stare. "Look up, open wide," I said and slowly filled her mouth as she gulped down the bubbly liquid. I felt like I was corrupting a minor, pouring alcohol into a girl with braces.

After a couple more glasses, our somewhat romantic moment quickly deteriorated into a champagne fight after Jordan held a mouthful and spit it all over my face, soaking my shirt. Laughing hysterically, she backed away clumsily and fell onto her side, but her legs were curled under her hip and realized she could reach her ankles, still tied together with the black pantyhose. I stood up and shook the remainder of the bottle, maybe a quarter of it, mostly foam, onto her bare body as she screeched from the cold and struggled to free herself. Then I dashed to the kitchen to retrieve a second bottle from the fridge. To my surprise I was joined by Jordan, her brow lowered and the twisted hose hanging off one ankle.

Actually angry that I poured a cold champagne on her, even after she spit a mouthful on me, the tattooed girl, still tied at the wrists, began rummaging around my mostly empty kitchen drawers backwards, looking behind her and slamming them when her search was unsuccessful.

I flipped the light switch on, mainly to enjoy the view of her, cock flailing and even her champagne-glazed tits moving a little as she spastically ransacked the cabinets. "Looking for something, Grumpy Cat?"

"A knife to cut myself loose and stab you, you bastard!" It seemed she might be a bit of a mean drunk, counting the wine we had with dinner. She finally reached the silverware drawer. Looking back over her shoulder, she was about to grab a steak knife, and I was worried about her cutting herself more than hurting me.

"Wait, wait! Let me get scissors, you're going to slice your fingers off," I said, sounding parental. I opened a drawer, but also a cabinet as she faced away, awaiting her freedom. Time to make her sweat a little of that alcohol off.

Instead of a pair of scissors, I retrieved my ex's can of Crisco, mindlessly placed in the cabinet along with all the other junk from the kitchen at my last house. She used it for making biscuits. Within the can was an old cook's trick, a plastic bag used to sccop out just enough to grease a pan, without getting the shortening on one's hand. I quickly dropped my pants and boxers, released my stiff cock, and slickened it nicely. Old school and a bit disgusting, but I didn't want to disappoint my date, and have her think I was 'boring', by fucking in a traditional place like a nice soft bed or sofa and usuing normal lube.

6

Rolled up site plans, papers, markers, and even an empty metal travel mug went flying off the kitchen breakfast table as I made room for cursing, squirming Jordan, held by the silk tie wrist restraint and temporarily, her pinkish-red emo hair. I pushed from behind until she was nearly face planted and tits shoved harshly onto the Formica wood surface.

I lifted her restrained arms into a vocal cry of discomfort just long enough to hold her still to shove my greasy white-coated cock up her ass. Ironically as she resisted, the butterfly tat across her shoulder blades seemed to be moving its wings in flight.

While her reddish hole was warm and welcoming, clenching on my shaft as I drove in balls deep, my trans girl date's mouth was hostile, and unleashed a steady stream of loud curses and insults for a solid minute, until my cock in her hole began to satisfy her rectal cravings. Little Jordan had been given what she seemed to need, I hoped: flattery, attention, shooting her load, a touch of discipline, and a long, sweaty doggie ass fuck.

As I pounded her constrictive hole steadily, I watched and listened happily as she writhed and twisted at the waist beneath me. Jordan was grunting, moaning, and humming to reflect the chills rolling through her thin body. Her tits, when compressed against the table, were wider than her torso, each protruding out to the side in a curved wave of flesh. Every few minutes I pulled her hair back, forcing her to raise her ribcage enough for me to slip my other hand beneath and twist and pull her pierced nipples and mash them against the table with a thumb after stretching them out to the side. Jordan's pale ass cheeks recoiled nicely with each thrust, made a little pink by my occasional smacks, no longer protested. As I gripped and groped this creative soul of a young woman, I realized she had had recreated herself perfectly, an irresistible temptation, an experience none of her lovers would ever forget.

The apartment had warmed nicely with the fireplace on, and after a while I was stripping my shirt off, and my date was growing shiny with sweat. Still, she took my relentless cock with heavy breath and long, neck tensing, guttural groans.

All great fucks, even hall of fame, first time with a feisty little trans girl fucks, must eventually end. I had been in a widened leg stance to enter her, and my back was beginning to complain. I had built up another giant, burning load that was not going to be ignored, either. Not having left her anus once since entering, I pulled out my greasy dick and staggered backwards, my back nearly locked in position, to grab a sacrificial kitchen towel to wipe the shortening from my dick. I could have just blasted my load up her intestines, but couldn't resist the urge to fling it all over her pink ass and the dark stars of her tramp stamp.

Surprisingly I didn't get the chance, as sweaty Jordan grunted and slid off the table and slumped to the floor, still bent at the waist, nearly in a fetal position, breathing heavily. There were red depressions laterally across her upper thighs where they had been jammed into the table edge during penetration. A real trooper, she still managed to twist her head up toward me and opened her mouth to implicitly ask for my load, her blue eyes watery and reddened, makeup smudged.

I knelt next to her and stroked until I grunted and my cock erupted with a terrific feeling, close up blast of jizz that bounced off her face in several waves. It almost looked like her skull had been filled with pressurized sperm and had burst open like a volcano where my dick touched her cheek. It finished the job of ruining her makeup. The fluid that had coated her upper lip and flowed into her held-open mouth created a pearly pool to encumber her tongue as she spoke, at least in words, for the first time in nearly twenty minutes.

"Arthur, pleath cut me looth, " she said barely above a whisper, moving her restrained arms, then swallowed. "Do you have any hydracodone or something?" Jizz blobs, shiny under the kitchen light, slid off her face in several directions, making long strings that began to stretch to the floor . Her chest heaved with her labored breath, I could count each of her ribs as she exhaled.

I returned with only Advil to her disappointment as she walked stiffly, dick the softest I'd seen it but still temptingly jiggling, over to the couch, holding a baggie of ice and my balled up shirt against her ass. I guessed my work there was finished. Maybe I was too rough on her. I was expecting an expression of discontent, but her mind was already elsewhere.

"Please tell me you have Netflix or Roku," she said, curling up against me on her side, the chunks of ice rattling in the bag.

Much later I awoke on the couch, both of us covered by a blanket, screen saver on the TV. The sky was a medium shade of blue to the east. I arose, pissed, dressed in sweats and gathered Jordan up, leaving the baggie of melted ice and my crumpled shirt behind. She was still naked beneath the blanket, and stirred and protested as I lifted her into a honeymoon carry. As she draped an arm behind my neck, I saw she had dried jizz crust on her face and in her hair, having never bothered to wipe it off.

I went out in the hall, then up in the elevator once more. When we reached the top floor, she groggily looked out a window at the dim marshlands below. "Gonna throw me off the roof?" she mumbled.

"How'd you guess?" I replied.

Actually we did walk into the glass-encased main stairway, and to a love seat sofa I had put on the highest landing after the crews left at four the prior afternoon. I was thinking the panoramic view of the distant hotel strip at night might be a nice make out spot during our date, but things of course went a different direction. Jordan was conscious, more or less, after I woke her to see the sunrise over the ocean.

"It's beautiful," she said softly, more to satiate me than admire the glowing dawn. She kissed my cheek, snuggled up against me and fell back asleep, but not before telling me she still didn't like me with a big metal smile.

7

"Hey!" Jordan said, poking me over an hour later, her slightly crusty face and scattered hair brightly lit. The blue in her eyes was simply brilliant in the morning sun, and her freckles were once again visible, her makeup having been whisked away by champagne, sweat and semen in that order. I don't know why she used a foundation that covered them; I had told her I thought they were adorable.

"You owe me from yesterday morning," she said, stretching her arms and legs as we sat on the love seat, causing the blanket to fall from her tits. Even while distracted by her nipples, rings shiny and hanging from their yet again stiff protrusions, I noticed a bulge in the blanket at her crotch. She then uncovered her gorgeous body completely, revealing her stiff morning cock, at least seven inches of wonderful, reddish, vein-crisscrossed meat with a chunky, bullet-shaped head, extended toward the ceiling. The sun shone through the webs of thin skin stretched between the underside of her shaft and balls. On the fourth floor of the stairs, this was more like the ceremonial presentation I had expected before. Our audience was many, hovering seagulls surveying the marsh below.

"Uh yes, yes I do," I said, leaning down immediately to lick the pulsing tubular treat as one hand twisted the skin around the base and the other felt a firm tit. My hands stayed busy, joyfully caressing her thin body everywhere I could reach. Despite my addiction to the sight of her, I mostly kept my eyes closed due to the blinding low angle of the sun.

There was no dialogue between us, only the high-pitched, rhythmic smacking of lips as they traveled along the length of the beautiful erection, and the guttural gulping as unaccustomed throat muscles constricted around the invading head. Its depth of entry varied and was sometimes appended by a choking gag. The young trans woman, her fingers entwined in my hair to prevent an escape, breathed more deeply and rapidly as the sun rose higher, an occasional gasp added to the unmistakable sounds of cock sucking that echoed through the stairwell.

Her grip on my scalp was unnecessary, as I was loving every second of this very satisfying, sloppy act, and had no plans to leave, at least not until I unexpectedly heard a diesel truck engine outside in the parking lot. The non-union paint crews started work Saturdays at seven.

My hope of seeing the emo-skater beauty running naked came true as she sprinted, giggling, alongside me, blanket behind her like a superhero cape. Jordan's tits were bouncing and her glistening hard cock flailing chaotically as we crossed the upper floor to the elevator. I was surprised she could run so fast with a sore ass. Back on the first floor, a couple of the guys turned the corner at the far end of the hall and commented to each other as they saw Jordan, finally enshrouded in the blanket, disappear into my condo.

The apartment was warm, since the fireplace had been on all night, and she shed her covering once we were inside. Just watching her walk around naked was a thrill. Even without her breast implants, pushing that wagging salami around in front of her little body looked like she would tip forward or to the side as it swayed. I had really enjoyed sucking it, even if I wasn't making up for years of suppressing my craving. I hoped to spend lots more time gagging on it, but I would have to wait. My asshole was begging for attention as I looked at her, smiling and leaning back against the counter, hips forward, sticking her cock out, its throbbing visible. She had grabbed a bottled water from the fridge and was chugging it down, her dick bouncing as bubbles flowed through the bottle.

"You know you're not finished, right?" she said, gesturing toward her wagging meat and handing me the bottle. I took a few gulps and pulled my shirt off.

The years of doing construction had paid off, I thought about my fairly in shape, middle-aged body as I stepped out of my sweat pants, my swinging dick hard from having sucked on Jordan. It was my first time completely naked in front of her, and she looked confused as I stepped away into the living room and retrieved a baggie out of a cheap Chinese-themed jar.

An old trick from my twenties was to keep an old ceramic jar next to the sofa for condoms and a baggie with KY squirted into it for a convenient lube. Reviving it for this date, I rubbed it on Jordan's dick until it was shining nicely in the morning sun. She began her harassment right away.

"What's with you and the damn baggies? Oh look, mister old tough guy, such a big man, wants to be my bitch now!"

"That's right, Think you can handle it?" I turned around and bent over, lining my hole up to loose my anal virginity, at least with more than a finger. Another un-ceremonious first time with a cock, but it felt nice and bigger than expected as I backed my ass up against her, my legs spread in a wide stance.

"That's it! Take it, baggie man! Feel good? Huh? You like me up your old bitch ass, Arthur?"

It may have been old, but it being filled with stiff cock was new, and I grunted a loud 'yes' as I started to ream my asshole out, bouncing back against her so hard, that the cheaply made cabinets she was leaning against creaked and thumped. I soon heard Jordan breathing faster between my own grunts, and my first awesome time with a dick filling my ass came to an end, as Jordan's hands gripped my waist tightly, her nails gouging my skin as she moaned erratically, balls deep and shooting inside me.

An hour later, my ass a little sore, I was dropping the wet-haired, freshly showered emo girl off in the parking lot of her building, since she had to work in a few hours. After a long toothpaste and coffee kiss, she refused to let me walk her to the door. I watched as she strolled away in her big coat and a pair of my flip flops, torn black netting hanging from the left underside of her vintage dress. Having just put it back on a few minutes prior in my garage where her clothes were abandoned, she probably didn't realize I had wrecked it last night. Jordan carried the lone shoe left in my truck, her clutch purse and phone, scanning through it on her 'walk of shame'.