Crossdressing

Around 5 PM, my boyfriend was almost home. I put the folded clothes in the closet and went to the bathroom to run the water and prepare some things.

Summer nights are still a bit hot, but a cool breeze had picked up this afternoon, so I decided to go out for dinner and a date with him.

I put away our clothes, took out fresh shower gel and rose-scented lubricant—I told myself it was just in case, but I still couldn't help blushing.

I took off my clothes one by one and sat on a special recliner my boyfriend had somehow gotten his hands on in the bathroom. It was made of plastic, with a soft backrest and holes in it, so it wouldn't get wet or accumulate water. When he first brought it home, I was annoyed by its bright red color, but then he said my white body looked especially beautiful lying on it, and it always made his "big thing" incredibly hard. So I blushed and silently allowed him to put it in. Luckily, my boyfriend… our house must be big enough that it didn't take up too much space.

My boyfriend likes me to lie on it and he washes my whole body. Every two or three days, I enjoy his Thai bath service (laughs).

Hot water gushed out, steam slowly rose from the bathroom, and I absentmindedly began to think about my plans for the evening. My eyes darted around and I saw the full-length mirror in front of me. I blinked and blushed.

The person in the mirror was tall and slender, with long, white, and shapely legs. One leg was slightly bent, and the other was straight. Although it was partially covered, the glimpse between my legs was still vaguely visible. I pulled up a towel to cover myself, wondering if this gave off a coy, inviting feeling... How do I look? My boyfriend said he likes my long eyelashes, big eyes, and red lips. Although I'm a bit effeminate and sometimes mistaken for a girl, my straight, high nose and arched, thick eyebrows give me a touch of handsomeness, which I quite like. As for my slender yet slightly muscular figure and fair, elastic skin, these are all things I've deliberately maintained. There's a saying among women: there are no ugly women, only lazy women. I think that applies to men too. I like the feeling of him easily wrapping his arm around my waist, and I like the feeling of his brown skin against my white body. In short, I don't deny that I want to attract his attention more this way. If we're both satisfied, why not?

A click sounded, my darling was back. There were some more noises outside, and he started calling my nickname.

"Silly girl, where are you?"

Footsteps stopped at the door. Because the bathroom walls had been replaced with frosted glass, I could see his blurry figure walking this way as soon as he entered.

From the outside in, he pushed open door after door. My expectant heart felt like the pleasure of having my clothes peeled away layer by layer until I was naked. As

soon as the door opened, his tall figure appeared under the bright light. When he saw me lying obediently on the recliner, completely at his mercy, his deep eyes shone even brighter.

“Baby, you’re back…” I smiled shyly at him. Even though this kind of situation was nothing new, I still couldn’t help feeling shy. My voice unconsciously lowered, and I felt a stirring in my lower body… His smile deepened as he walked towards me, taking off his clothes as he went.

As soon as he got close, his lips pressed against mine, pressing them together with a little force. It started with a long, deep kiss. He pulled out my tongue and sucked on it a few times until I was breathless before letting go.

“…Ugh…we’re going out to eat tonight,” I said, slightly out of breath.

“Okay.” He smiled and pecked me a few more times before picking up the showerhead, adjusting the water temperature and volume, and gently rinsing my body.

When he got to my lower body, the towel was soaked, revealing my shape. I was already slightly erect. He smiled, holding my penis through the towel with one hand, and using the showerhead in the other to gently rub it against the shaft.

I couldn't help but groan softly, my legs buckling up, my penis hardening even more. The round head emerged, swollen into a hard, ruby-like substance. He started rubbing the tip of my penis directly against the showerhead. The towel's texture was pressed and rubbed against me, and the warm stream of water even washed over my urethra. I cried out louder, my waist arching back, shouting "No, no..." I was deeply moved, my eyes reddening, glaring at him with tears in my eyes. He had attacked my weakness right from the start, leaving me defenseless. I lowered my body and retaliated by taking his large penis into my mouth. My tongue brushed against the shaft, and I pulled my head up to take only his hard, large, purplish-red glans into my mouth. I pursed my lips at the sensitive spot where the glans met the shaft, my tongue moving rapidly across the tip of his penis like a storm. As expected, I heard him groan with pleasure, and he rubbed my hands together even faster. We were competing, directly attacking the man's sensitive glans.

But he was incredibly skilled; besides the showerhead, he even used his fingers, his fingertips digging in repeatedly, making me moan and groan several times, unable to bear it any longer, my tongue only able to hold his glans. Waves of

pleasure surged from my groin to my spine, spreading throughout my body. I couldn't take it anymore, I cried out, and my hot semen gushed out, spraying into the towel in his hand.

He chuckled with a hint of pride, playing with me like this. I resentfully twisted his erect penis, but having just ejaculated, I had no strength left, and the friction only made him harder.

He removed the towel, rubbed my head as a gesture of comfort, lifted my legs to sit astride me, then placed my legs on his thighs and began cleaning me again.

He was very gentle, making me lower my head to start washing my hair and giving me acupressure. I relaxed and felt comfortable, but when I looked down, his two large testicles were pressing against the chair, his penis erect. Every time he moved, it rubbed against my testicles. I couldn't help but slowly move my hips, letting his penis lie on my slightly swollen, hot shaft, feeling itchy as he rubbed against me like that.

He didn't look away, but he knew I was up to something, and he chuckled and scolded me as a little rascal, pressing his hot shaft against me a few times.

After he finished rinsing off the foam, I looked up and gently nibbled at his angular chin. He continued rinsing from my neck down, squeezing out shower gel with his other hand and lathering it on my body. I straightened my back, my body covered in foam, and nestled against his chest, my hands also covered in foam, running up and down his back. Because of the change in position, he started washing my back, my erect penis pressing against his firm abdominal muscles, while his large penis, due to the posture, was pressed directly against the chair.

We started kissing, my lust deepening, my hips swaying slightly as I gently kissed his glans with my vaginal opening.

I used my sphincter muscles to open and close, each thrust and movement like sucking on his glans. His head was partially inside me, then pulled out again. My muscles tensed, my thighs lifted, and I leaned towards him, making his penis stand erect. My vaginal opening could continue the sucking and pulling motion downwards.

His hands slid down to my buttocks, kneading them with a firm, relaxed rhythm. Gradually, my waist movements became larger, no longer just using my sphincter to hold him, but moving up and down to grip his large glans. I especially liked to use my opening to pinch half of his glans, making him feel a tight, painful sensation. And since I wasn't lubricated, relying only on my meager bodily fluids, his large, egg-shaped glans couldn't easily penetrate.

He began to soothe my aroused penis with one hand, while lifting my buttocks with the other to stop my movements. Some of the foam had been washed away, and he now had the lubricant in his hand. He inserted the bottle into my vagina and squeezed hard, forcing the cold liquid inside me. The discomfort made me struggle. He said, "Good girl, good girl, just a little more," and pushed even harder. A large amount of liquid gushed from the bottle, almost giving the illusion that he was ejaculating inside me, only the temperature was different. I let out a soft moan, my back involuntarily arching to meet him. Finally, he pulled the lubricant out with a sharp "plop." Before the liquid could overflow, his thick fingers quickly plugged the opening, rotating and drilling inside. He pulled it out a little after the second knuckle, then pushed it in again in the blink of an eye. He went in and out twenty or thirty times in and out, and my sensitive intestines were directly touched by him. I cried out in lust. He lowered his hand and inserted another finger, opening and widening my body. My waist swayed. He raised my body a little, parted his lips, and took my nipple into his mouth, kissing it, biting it lightly, and sucking it hard. His free hand then quickly stroked my hot rod.

My pressure points, my penis, my nipples were aroused to the extreme by his teasing. My hands gripped his head, my head held high, neck stretched straight, throat bobbing, and I uncontrollably uttered lewd words I wouldn't normally say… “Ah…ah…so good…so good…faster…harder…I’m hard…so hard…ah ah…”

His hands moved faster, his mouth more sensual. When he inserted another finger, I couldn't resist any longer. I grabbed his hand with my left, my body sinking, and he swallowed three of his fingers. I let out a comfortable moan, a few drops of love juice dripping from my front. Soon, I began to grasp his hand, mimicking intercourse, pushing it in and out. He was captivated by my ecstasy, his tongue… He frantically swept my nipples, his other hand reaching for the other, pulling and tugging. His hands inside me stirred restlessly, one pressing against my cervix. My waist trembled, my body went limp, but this only made his fingers thrust harder into that sensitive spot the size of a chestnut. I screamed, grabbing his head tightly, pressing my breasts against his mouth, my intestines clenching and biting his fingers. I quickly used my other hand to squeeze my penis, which was about to ejaculate. My body trembled like a leaf in the wind, suppressing the urge to ejaculate. If I ejaculated again, I wouldn't be able to leave the house tonight.

I sniffled, my eyes brimming with tears, looking at him, resenting that he was going to play with me until I was exhausted before we even started. He kissed my lips, and with his fingers still inside me, pulled me back onto the recliner, slowly moving them in and out again.

My intestinal walls had long been stretched until they were soft and wet. Three fingers thrust in and out without obstruction for about thirty or forty times, making me moan and groan. I quietly withdrew, then pressed against his rock-hard glans. I felt his heat, and my thighs spread open, my hips raised, wantonly waiting to receive his penis into my hole.

He loved my boldness and wantonness. He held his penis and rubbed the glans against my slightly swollen folds. This foreplay made me feel itchy all over, wanting him to thrust deeply into me. The desire reached my entrance, where it opened wantonly and began to eat his glans again.

He chuckled softly, and soon lifted himself up and pressed down on my legs, his glans pressing forward. I whimpered a few times, my sphincter unable to resist the struggle. The python's head suddenly rammed in, and I let out a heavy "hmm." My sphincter gripped the point where his glans met the shaft. He didn't push in any further, but began to sway his hips from side to side, pounding the front of my anus with his clearly shaped and extremely hard glans.

I couldn't hold back any longer, lifting my spine and thrusting towards him. His enormous glans pushed even deeper inside me; its weight and hardness were incomparable to the three fingers I'd used before. My intestinal walls were stretched taut, clinging tightly to his shaft. I could even clearly feel its shape.

He began to thrust forward, going in a little, then pulling out a little, then pushing deeper again… a slow, repeated expansion. I gently swayed back and forth, but didn't follow suit by swallowing and releasing his penis. I trembled, rubbing my body against his walls, waiting for him to expand deeper, waiting for my intestinal walls to adjust to his size and depth, before I could finally let him thrust in and out with confidence.

I kneaded my nipples, sucking on his thick knuckles. As his serpent slowly advanced, what felt like an eternity actually lasted only three minutes. I had the illusion that his length had already encircled my small intestine. Suddenly, I felt an itch in my anus; my opening was near his pubic hair. He wrapped his arm around me, and his penis thrust in completely, the sound of his testicles slapping loudly against my buttocks, filling me with both shame and passion.

With every movement, the point where we were joined made a constant squelching sound. He moved again, pulling outwards and thrusting in deeply. I held him, moaning with each thrust, a symphony of moans and groans, the heavy slaps of his testicles against my buttocks. My intestinal walls were being pulled apart violently; several times, the fleshy walls were dragged out and then forcefully pushed back in. He pressed my legs onto his shoulders, his mouth busy kissing my face and lips. He nibbled at my neck and shoulders, biting my calves and sucking on my toes, but his lower body didn't stop. We were both covered in foam, making it easier for us to slide around quickly. He thrust into me over a hundred times with wide, sweeping strokes, then plunged deep inside me, teasing me with nine shallow thrusts followed by one deep one. His speed changed from fast to slow. When he was fast, my back could only tremble helplessly, but when he was slow, I couldn't help but push him faster. This back and forth continued for another two or three hundred times. My body was already contracting rapidly and uncontrollably, making him grind even harder.

My whole body was soaked in sweat, my skin glowing with a crystalline pink. Some of the places he kissed more intensely were already red and swollen. My right hand gripped the edge of the chair tightly, my body being tossed up and down repeatedly. My left hand kneaded the point where we were joined, my thumb and forefinger rubbing my stretched sphincter and his rapidly moving shaft.

He too had entered the throes of passion. My high-pitched moans mingled with his low groans. He gradually slowed down, using his waist to thrust his increasingly engorged penis into my tender opening. He moved forward slowly, but when fully inside, he would suddenly and forcefully hold me in place. When he withdrew, only the head of his penis would remain inside me. He would rub against it a few times before thrusting in again. During the back and forth movements, he would always precisely find my cervix, swaying his waist from side to side. His incredibly hard head of penis would rub against me for a few moments before withdrawing and then returning.

My legs trembled, and my glans leaked more fluid. My hands gripped the edge of the chair tightly, trying hard not to give way.

He also ejaculated some semen, kneading my breasts vigorously with both hands. His lower body moved faster and faster, and with a push, he no longer penetrated deeply, only reaching the front of my penis. He rubbed my penis, which was as big as an egg, against me. My back tightened from the stimulation, and my body arched, which was the perfect position for him to penetrate my sensitive spot. His penis pounded faster, and I sobbed. I cried out, but I couldn't control my waist as I thrust my hips. My anus kept contracting, and I felt extremely close to the climax. He thrust rapidly inside me two or three hundred times, each time ruthlessly fucking my sensitive spot, trying to force me to ejaculate directly from behind.

I couldn't take it anymore, and I cried out loudly. My penis opened, trembling wildly, and waves of semen shot onto his abdominal muscles. Instantly, I felt my nipples harden and swell. My anus gripped him tightly at my sensitive spot, trembling with my body, and we rubbed against each other with a slight friction. He groaned, and his waist began to sway. I could feel his penis trembling before ejaculation. He shouted, "I'm coming!" and as his penis opened, large waves of hot semen poured into my body. He thrust in and out in waves in sync with the frequency of his ejaculation, spraying my intestines everywhere. I arched my lower body to receive his semen, its heat burning me. I let out a few moans. His slowly receding penis was still quite heavy inside me. He lowered his head and kissed me, exchanging saliva with his tongue, enjoying the languid afterglow of his ejaculation with me.

I gasped for breath for a long time before my breathing returned to normal. I moved my legs to signal him to withdraw, and even if he still wanted to go again, he would considerately let me go as my strength gradually gave out. He lifted my lower limbs, and his glans emerged from the hole with a squelching sound, bringing out milky white semen. He massaged my slightly sore waist and thighs, and I lay comfortably on the red chair, letting him work on me. He wiped away the semen that had been ejaculated and flowed out of my front and back, and then began the cleaning work, cleaning my body again. He then inserted two fingers into my body and pulled out some semen, and then opened my vagina and injected some water, repeating the previous actions until it was clean. I was drowsy from his actions, but my stomach was hungry, and I heard a rumbling sound. He said with concern, "Wait a minute, wait a minute," and quickened his pace. After cleaning me, it was his turn. When it was his turn, he was like he was undergoing military training. He washed his body in three minutes, tied a towel around his waist, turned around and took a large bath towel to wrap me up, picked me up and carried me out of the bathroom and placed me by the bed.

He gently wiped my body, exchanging several kisses. After I was dry, he picked up a hairdryer and started drying my hair. I was lying on my side against him, squinting my eyes and enjoying this sweet, unspoken space.

He took out a change of clothes from the bathroom, noticing something different in the clothes he was carrying. He casually tossed them aside—a black short skirt, layered with black lace except for the inner lining, a classic Lolita style.

He blinked at me, smiling, and said, "Wearing women's clothes today?"

My cross-dressing fetish isn't new. The first time we met, we were both dressed in sharp suits signing contracts with each other's companies. But the second time was when I was traveling in women's clothes and we bumped into each other by chance. He mistook me for his sister and pursued me relentlessly. I couldn't resist the guilt and confessed, but he was already deeply in love with me, ignoring my gender.

To be honest, I was the one who turned him from straight to gay. I had heard about his previous girlfriends from his friends: rich heiresses, actresses, dance PhDs... each one was stunningly beautiful, ethereal, and incredibly alluring. Compared to them, even if I was slightly less attractive, I was already at a disadvantage as a man. Yet he said he loved my adorable naivety, my playful nature with a sense of propriety, and my unconsciously seductive mannerisms, which had him completely captivated. Moreover, I was dashing and handsome in men's clothing (I only act coquettishly with him in private; in public, I'm a typical boy), and beautiful and charming in women's clothing. He loved this ever-changing beauty even more, so when I was in the mood today, he happily helped me dress up.

He knelt down in front of me, holding a white thong, and helped me put it on. It was a small triangular piece of fabric with thin threads at the three ends that could be tied to the sides. He gently moved my penis and testicles so that they were properly covered by the small piece of fabric; it looked like any larger movement would expose them. The thin thread went down to my perineum and then to my lower back, where it was connected to a horizontal thread that could be tied to the two threads at the front on either side of my waist. He then moved the thin thread across my buttocks, his fingers tracing my still-hot anus, pressing and rubbing the thread against it a few times. I angrily punched him a few times before he laughed and stopped.

While he was putting on the thong, I was also wearing silicone prosthetic breasts, covered by a white lace bra. The prosthetic breasts were exquisitely made; they were a gift he had made to take my measurements. The color matched my skin tone, and the seams, due to their slight adhesiveness, adhered to my skin, making them look like real women's breasts at first glance.

After I put on a purple cotton t-shirt with a gold-embossed pattern, he helped me put on the Lolita-style short skirt, holding my shoulders.

I casually fastened a pearl and gold chain to my waist, wrapped a thin rope around my neck to conceal my Adam's apple, and draped a trendy beaded necklace around my shoulders. Then I slipped into the seven-inch black high heels he'd given me before, the white ankles wrapped with thin black straps, creating a slightly erotic effect.

I straightened up, smoothed my hair, leaving it loose and unadorned, and twirled in front of him, smiling as I asked if it looked good.

His smile deepened, and he asked, "What do you think?" He pulled my hand to his groin, and even through the towel, I could feel his slight erection.

I shoved him away with a "tsk," sat on the bed with my legs crossed, and waved at him, indicating that I wouldn't help him change his clothes. I explained that once I changed into women's clothing, my temper became even more spoiled, and all my movements became much more feminine. Even my current sitting posture—one hand supporting my body, a languid,

hunched posture with my hips exposed—wasn't bothered. He took out the light gray cotton casual pants I had prepared, paired them with a white t-shirt, and then wore a dark gray, fine-striped suit jacket over them. He didn't use any hair gel, letting his hair fall casually across his forehead, giving him a more youthful look compared to his usual slicked-back style. Overall, he looked like a handsome, sophisticated gentleman.

He put his arm around my waist, supporting most of my weight, since I was going to wear high heels after our encounter, which would inevitably cause discomfort in my groin area.

After about ten minutes' drive, we arrived at a famous European-style restaurant. I had made a reservation that morning. The waiter led us to a small booth with silk curtains covering the back. I was starving, and occasionally, while waiting for the next dish to be served, I would lift my foot to peek at his trousers across from me. Most of the time, I ate quietly. The food here was unique and delicious, and it made my body feel incredibly satisfied after my workout. He watched me eat like a greedy kitten, smiling warmly, only looking at me with loving eyes, not disturbing my happy meal.

After we had almost finished eating, I suggested that we go see a heartwarming movie that was playing.

He smiled and tapped my forehead, saying, "Another heartwarming movie? Aren't you afraid you'll cry your eyes out again?"

"I love it!" I pouted, but it sounded like I was being coquettish.

The movie theater wasn't far from here, and after dinner, I pulled him along on foot. It was a busy area, bustling with shoppers and people heading home from work. We were both good-looking, and women frequently cast admiring glances at him, while men were even more blatant, their lewd eyes seeming to want to lick every inch of me.

I didn't mind the stares from the men and women; I was even a little proud of his good looks and my own beauty. He, however, was unhappy with the men's gazes, pulling me closer and glaring back at each one, seemingly helpless and frustrated by my flirtatious nature.

When we arrived at the theater, he brought over a small tub of popcorn and two cups of cola, knowing that even after dinner, I'd still crave something sweet. As the movie started, I'd almost finished the popcorn. When the climax came, I started sobbing. He took the crumpled popcorn from my hand, gave me tissues, and pulled me even closer, soothing my hair. I was thankful I was dressed as a woman; otherwise, my male companion would have had to constantly hold back his tears.

After the show, he quietly pulled me into the men's restroom and locked us in the least occupied disabled stall. Because of its extra-large space, it didn't feel cramped for the two of us tall people.

I wasn't wearing makeup, just curled my long, curly eyelashes even more. My bright red lips were a natural result of passion. I looked up at him with tears in my eyes. A few seconds later, he sighed and pressed my buttocks against his groin.

I remembered him saying that the way I looked up at him with my big eyes was incredibly alluring. I unconsciously did it, and his still-unsatisfied desire was aroused again. His erection pressed against my lower abdomen, and he said, "Shall we do it?" His tone was a little aggrieved, like a pitiful big dog.

"This way..." I said hesitantly, but I had already silently agreed. Neither of us were reserved people; when passion struck, we sometimes did it right there in the elevator, regardless of whether there were surveillance cameras.

His large hand, unable to resist any longer, pressed against my penis. He lifted my head, his soft lips covering mine, eagerly kissing my tongue. He teased several sensitive spots in my mouth, making me moan and groan. We shifted our heads several times, his fingers tracing my shape, and my glans began to wet again.

Soon, he reached back, stroking my scrotum and gently rubbing my perineum. I let out a soft moan, my legs weakening as I collapsed onto him. He pressed harder, making me feel as if he was about to poke out a woman's vagina and penetrate me.

He, having tasted the sweetness, moved further back, the thin strap of my thong lightly pricking my opening. My penis grew even larger, the thong stretched taut, and fluid flowed out, the white fabric becoming increasingly transparent as it became wet.

He pressed the strap and his fingers into my body, using that rough touch to begin moving in and out. I groaned, hooking my right leg around his thigh, pushing myself further down towards him. I restlessly unzipped his shirt, reaching inside his clothes to grasp his erect penis and stroking it up and down.

The front of my rectum was itchy from his penetration, the weight of his fingers wasn't enough to satisfy me, and there was an infinite emptiness deep inside. I pressed his head down, kissing him even deeper, my hands stroking him rapidly, moaning, "Give it to me, give it to me, I want you to fuck me, fuck me, ahh..."

He pulled my right leg wider, the thin strap already hooked on my buttocks, my red anus exposed without obstruction. He thrust his lower body forward, his dragon-like member plunging into my body. I suppressed a high groan, clinging to his broad back, my waist trembling. If he hadn't been holding me, I, wearing high heels and supporting myself on only one leg, would have collapsed long ago.

My back was still trembling, his beast still deep inside, the triangle of fabric at the front soaked through. It turned out he'd forced me to ejaculate the instant he entered, a hot liquid splashing onto my skin, and I was still dazed from the pleasure of ejaculation.

Coming to my senses, I saw him smiling at me, as if laughing at my inability to resist. My face immediately flushed red. I was the one who asked him to penetrate me, yet I'd unexpectedly climaxed with just one thrust—it was truly embarrassing. Panting,

I weakly pounded his waist a few times, and he kissed me deeply several more times. His hot iron gradually swayed inside me, his 26-centimeter penis slowly withdrawing a little before plunging back in, each thrust stronger than the last, each thrust faster than the last. My rectum had been opened up by him just a few hours earlier, and it was still wet and soft. His penis, apart from being squeezed, didn't feel dry or difficult to move.

His waist moved tirelessly, constantly changing angles to penetrate deep inside. My legs were draped over his waist, and his strong arms held me, repeatedly pushing me towards his big treasure. In my dazed state, I was still somewhat aware of where I was—a toilet stall. We were still dressed, our short skirts covering our connected lower bodies. It was as if we were a couple who couldn't resist the urge to have sex right there. As soon as I thought this, my body became even more sensitive, and my intestines uncontrollably clenched around him, letting him pull me out and then push me back in. I kissed him tightly, afraid that if I made a sound, it would attract the attention of others.

After he thrust wildly a hundred times, he started aiming at my cervix (he said this would give him pleasure too). I struggled, whispering "No" in his ear, my voice already starting to sob. He replied with a rare wickedness, "Don't you love it when I thrust into you here?"

"This will make me ejaculate too quickly..." I sniffed and said, "I don't want to..."

He lowered my legs, his erect penis pulling out with difficulty. I felt as if my internal organs were being forcibly pulled out. My fingers gripped him tightly, and as his glans was pulled out with a thud, we were both drenched in sweat.

He led me around, making me lean against the wall, my right foot on the toilet seat, my buttocks sticking out, looking like I was ready to be taken.

He lifted my skirt, lowered his head, and began to kiss my anus fiercely. His hand also moved forward, directly stroking my hard, wet penis. His soft tongue went in and out, his lips joined in a series of sucking kisses. I groaned and stiffened, accepting his teasing.

His fingers joined the fray, prying open two fingers and introducing more saliva, then inserting three fingers and thrusting again, his tongue attacking the swollen folds, licking them over and over. The thong, unable to withstand our earlier intensity, loosened and hung loosely on my left ankle. His other hand kneaded and pinched in front of me, swinging it up and down, left and right, splashing my fluids onto the floor, the toilet seat, and the walls, sometimes even rubbing my testicles hard against his scrotum.

I swayed uncontrollably, my body pressed against the wall, panting heavily. He twisted his hand, pulling at my inner walls, making me tremble wildly, pulling out a little, creating a little space, his restless python squeezing back into the warm cave. Before I could even catch my breath from his pause, he was thrusting into me again like a storm.

I couldn't take it anymore, really. Even when he made me suck his fingers, I couldn't help but moan and groan, forgetting we were in the outside restroom, forgetting there was a large group of people watching a movie outside.

He lifted the clothes off my back, nibbling and kissing the skin there, thrusting his hips forward while his other hand gripped my dripping penis and pressed it back. My intestinal walls tightened and loosened with each thrust, pulling back and forth, my slender waist swaying a hundred times. His right leg stepped on the lid, pushing my right leg open and placing it on his lap. With this change in position, he began another wave of deep, long thrusts, his hips like a high-speed motor, making me lean backward. My arms went limp, and he pulled me close, my body hanging on him, my buttocks still wrapped around his hot penis, as if I were sitting diagonally on his right leg.

He unhooked my bra, reaching under my fake breasts, forcefully pulling at my erect nipples, sometimes grinding and sometimes kneading them, my small breasts swelling like ripe strawberries from the torment.

My intestines were ravaged and lost their defenses, my prostate was swollen from the relentless grinding, and I was overflowing with pleasure. My feet, clad in high heels, were tightly hooked with my toes. He moved erratically, three shallow thrusts followed by one deep thrust, five shallow thrusts followed by one deep thrust, nine shallow thrusts followed by one deep thrust, each one reaching deep into the swollen and burning depths of my body, nailing it in and grinding it relentlessly. Tears streamed down my face as I sobbed with pleasure. With each sob, I felt his vigor. One hundred thrusts, two hundred thrusts, three hundred thrusts… I couldn’t count them all. I straightened my upper body and kept saying that I was going to ejaculate, that I was going to ejaculate. His hand moved even faster, pulling my foreskin down and then pulling it back up. In an instant, my vaginal opening tightened, and my ejaculation gate opened, releasing hot fluid. He pressed down on my swollen and trembling penis, soothing me with the rhythm of my ejaculation, while letting my semen spill into the toilet bowl, which he had somehow managed to open with his foot. This posture was just like him holding my penis and serving me as I urinated. I cried and screamed in shame.

He smeared my semen on my shaft, rubbing his fingers on my glans. The stickiness there caused a white stream of fluid to form when he pulled his fingers away. He teasingly tapped my glans a few times, which infuriated me. I had already ejaculated twice, while his large penis remained rock hard inside me. I defiantly thrust my hips back repeatedly, catching him off guard and causing him to hit his groin. I grabbed the handrails on either side of the wheelchair, arching my back and using my own vagina to penetrate his penis, moaning and shouting, "Shoot! Shoot it into me! I want your semen!" Ah… He hummed, holding my throbbing waist, making me not only thrust back and forth but also sway up and down and side to side, using the walls of my intestines to rub against his well-defined glans, his engorged penis, like a mortar and pestle, constantly pounding it against my sensitive spots. From the initial kisses and thrusts, his passion had already reached its peak, and now, being violated by me, in less than thirty or forty thrusts, he could no longer hold back his ejaculation, letting out a cry as he thrust deep into me, ejaculating with a sizzling sound. His glans struck me in waves, hot semen spraying out in gusts, and I contracted my vaginal opening to receive it, my waist trembling wildly.

He thrust into me and ejaculated twenty or thirty times before his hard penis slowly subsided. We breathed a while and kissed a few more times, then he began to pull out, the large amount of hot fluid that had entered my body flowing out. My heart stirred, and my vaginal opening tightened again. He looked at me questioningly, and I blushed and stammered, “I… I want more of your semen to stay…” The words that came out were like those of a greedy harlot.

He laughed, lowered his body, and thrust the heat device back in. His hand was under my legs, fiddling with something. I was both sad and moved as he bent over and pressed me down with his hips. After a while, he straightened up, lifted my body, and quickly pulled out. I cried out, and he immediately inserted a foreign object into my vagina. I was dazed by his rubbing, and I slumped against him, my shoulders hunched, and whispered, "You...you put something in...uh..."

He smiled without saying a word, kissed me a few times, wiped the wetness between my legs with toilet paper, straightened our disheveled clothes, and pulled me out as soon as the door was unlocked. I was startled and led to the sink to wash myself a little.

"Wait...wait..." I sensed something was wrong, because my lower body was completely covered only by my short skirt, and my thong was flying off... "You, you wouldn't have...my..." I stammered, unable to finish my sentence, but he grinned at me knowingly, and after fixing it, he was about to lead me out.

My shoes clicked a few times; I didn't want to go out like this. The skirt was extremely short, and if I moved even slightly, or if the wind blew too hard, my genitals would definitely be exposed. He grinned even more, saying, "I'll hold it down, see, I'll hold it down, don't worry." He demonstrated by pressing his palm against the skirt, and before I could protest, he really pulled me out.

My eyes, reddened from our lovemaking, pounded on the street in my high heels. My heart raced, my cheeks flushed, and I bit my lower lip, shrinking back against him, afraid of being stared at. Every step I took was hesitant. The thong he had inserted inside me to hold back the heat rubbed against my inner walls with each step, and with my seven-inch heels, each step was a struggle of the upper leg, making my opening even tighter and the fabric chafing even more. My breathing grew heavy, and I glared angrily at him, the culprit.

Seeing my pitiful and resentful state, he reached under my skirt again and touched me a few times amidst the crowd. I angrily slapped him away and was about to push him away and storm off when he apologized repeatedly, pulled me back into his arms, and only relaxed his guard when I was in the car. I was so tired in the car that I was drowsy, and only became more awake when he stopped the car and carried me home.

He laid me on the bed, lifted my skirt, and spread my legs. His eyes fell upon the image of my red anus biting a small white cloth. Aroused, he reached out and rubbed the fabric against my anus. Exhausted, I didn't want to continue. His teasing and courtship made me lament his persistent desire. I kicked at him with my right foot, but it was a weak kick. He grabbed my arm and placed it on his shoulder, pulling me forward to remove my upper garments, leaving me only with the pearl and gold chain around my waist, my short skirt, and black high heels. After finishing with his shoes, he reached out and hovered around my anus, pushing the cloth in and pulling it out again, repeatedly. My body had been trained to be extremely sensitive. Even though I was exhausted, my penis gradually became aroused. With another tug, he pulled the cloth out completely, roughly rubbing it against my anus. I cried out as he rubbed it, and a few thin drops of fluid barely escaped from my penis. I started to cry. My scrotum was already empty from ejaculation, my penis was hot and swollen, and my glans was burning and slightly painful, yet he wouldn't let me go.

Some of his semen was pulled out of my lower body, and the rest was absorbed by the cloth. He knew I was being stubborn and didn't want to kiss him, so he lowered his head and took my swollen nipples into his mouth, sucking on both of them like a baby nursing.

His penis seemed to have calculated the target location, poking around a few times before entering again. After a few minutes of stillness, he slowly moved and rubbed against me. He knew I was weak and uncomfortable, so he stopped his frantic assault and began to move slowly and gently inside me.

He then turned me to one side, gently placing me on his left leg, while my right leg was raised high against his chest. His penis entered me in a sideways position, his hips twisting as his penis rubbed and pounded inside me. My intestines, mixed with his semen and intestinal fluid, made a sizzling sound as he rubbed. He also loved to slap my lower body with his heavy scrotum, grinding it a few times with each deep thrust. I began to spasm again from his ministrations, my intestines tightly squeezing his beast.

The pearl and gold chain around my waist swayed and shimmered, hanging from my waist and accentuating my flushed pink skin, exuding eroticism. His hands were on my body, caressing my sweaty, tender skin, and I moaned softly in pleasure.

Lost in thought, he suddenly flipped me over into a connected position, and I screamed, because his enormous glans was grinding inside me, hard, fierce, and intoxicating.

With that thought, he lifted my buttocks and thrust a few times, shouting, "Hold on!" He braced his hands on my cheeks, raised his legs high, and used only his penis inside me to support his lower body. His weight was so heavy that I cried out and my legs trembled violently. His penis didn't go in at all; even his scrotum was almost pressed into my body.

Taking advantage of the moment, he used both hands to spin me around like a 360-degree windmill, using our point of connection as the center. I cried out, unable to understand where he had seen this new trick. He was haphazardly stirring me inside. After he had spun around two and a half times, his head stopped at my feet, and he propped himself up on his arms to do a push-up (or pull-up?). This awkward position forced his erect penis forward against my intestinal wall, and I had the illusion that he was about to pierce through me. I cried out loud. He pressed in and out, grinding hard against my prostate. Soon, my scrotum was forced to contract, and a thin stream of semen shot out. I cried in embarrassment, vomiting, and complained that he was torturing me to death.

He felt a pang of pain, quickly turned around, lowered his legs, and lifted my limp waist. He then obediently thrust into me in a normal position fifty or sixty times before finally ejaculating. By then, I was already dazed and sobbing, exhausted, and fell asleep, leaving him to clean me up after the act.

The next day, because of his relentless activity the previous day, my nipples were swollen, my penis was red and swollen, and my anus was in a terrible state, still wide open and unable to close tightly. The sphincter muscles were so swollen that even the folds were stretched open, making it look like a flower blooming. I lay in bed, my back and thighs aching so much that I couldn't move an inch. Because the swollen areas were painful with the slightest friction, I could only cover myself with a damp towel, completely naked. Luckily, it was the hot month of July, otherwise I would definitely have caught a cold.

It happened to be a holiday here, and he stayed home, letting me do whatever I wanted. When I saw him bring a tray into the room, I glared at him and cursed him as a beast before turning away and ignoring him. He apologized a few times, blaming himself for going too far, and said a few sweet words that he rarely uttered before I obediently let him feed me.

I thought to myself, my darling is good in every way, except for his persistent sex drive. When he's in a high mood, he'll try even more sexual tricks, which I can't handle. That's the only downside.

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