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.or a sissy. Well, Ididn't see much hope in proving myself as a man from this position, andsince I was dressed for the part, I dove down to her feet, kissing andsuckling her toes, desperate to prove myself as a sissy at least..."Please, Mistress! I beg you! Please teach me! I promise to listen andI'll do whatever you say!" I looked up hopefully, my fear momentarilyoverwhelming any fleeting feelings of dignity or self worth. And theanswer I saw practically dripping from her lustful look of condescensionmade it all seem worthwhile."Very well. Since you asked so nicely. You can start by giving it a softkiss on the head and thanking me for letting you suck my beautifulcock..." I stare at it for a second, my mouth watering at the sight ofit. I didn't know what to think, did this make me gay? It couldn't, notwhen it was attached to such a vision of femininity. But I couldn't denythe allure of it...and I had to know...I closed my eyes and placed a gentle kiss on her cock head. I wassurprised. I pulled up on the fabric, as she adjusted her hips to give me access. I gripped her cheek, and kneaded it with my fingers. She moved off my cock just enough to moan, then back down again. Reluctantly, I pulled her off my cock. I laid her back on the sofa, and started kissing her fiercely. During a brief pause in the making out, I asked her, “Not that I really wanted to stop, but what's going on?”“Remember when I was here last time?” I nodded, indicating for her to continue. “Remember how I said 'We should do this again sometime'”? I nodded again. “This is 'sometime'.”I couldn't argue the logic, so I didn't bother. “Would you like to take this upstairs?”“Whatever you want,” she replied, and stood up. I stayed seated for a moment, so that I could admire her body again. As if reading my mind, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her skirt, and dropped it to the floor. Similarly, she unbuttoned the blouse she was wearing, and dropped it on top of her skirt. She apparently hadn't.
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