Charli is a deeply closeted cross-dresser. A small, discreet club is the only place he feels that he can truly relax and be himself. He's shocked when his boss appears in the club, and even more so when the boss starts flirting with him. Will he dare risk his career for a night of passion?
This 3,300 word gay sissy erotica story is suitable for adults only and contains feminization, dirty talk, cross dressing, and some deeply dirty acts.
We go towards the bar. I feel his arm, strong and reassuring. What am I even doing? The safest thing would be to run, and run now. I don't. I look over to the other guys I've been talking with, trying my best to look apologetic. Most of them have seen Jeff swoop in, and just cut their losses and moved on. A couple seem a bit peturbed, but they'll get over it.
He hands me something tall and elaborate. “Enjoy”, he says.
“Cheers”, I say, and we drink. He lets out a great sigh of happiness, and then bends down to my ear. I shiver as his breath plays across it. That's nothing to how I jump when he actually speaks, though.
“Hi there, colleague. Fancy seeing you here. I meant everything I just said.”
My head whips round. I'm not exactly short, but he's got a good few inches on me, and I'm confronted by his chest, in a T-shirt that seems to have been painted on. I let my eyes travel slowly up his neck, his face, those authoritative cheekbones...
He chuckles. “Your secret will be safe with me. As my secret will be safe with you. Won't it?”
My heart is thumping nineteen to the dozen. I am so not prepared for this! My eyes flick around the room as I think. It's a risk. It's a huge risk. Why am I even considering it? Because there's already a stirring in my pants at the thought. And yeah, the risk is the part of that.
How many times have I secretly dreamed of something like this? Jerked myself off while thinking about it? Too many to count even if I wanted to. Jesus. I'm going to do it. I'm actually going to do it. Fantasies can come true after all.
I tilt my glass back and enjoy how the cocktail feels as it pours down my throat. “Well, stud”, I say, in my best approximation of Charli's usual sultry tones. “Is there any reason to stick around here, then?”
He nods, and favors me with an genuine, open smile. “Uber driver won't be here for another ten minutes”, he says. “Let's dance a little.”
We dance a little. He touches my butt. I push back against his hand, raising my arms, grinding up against him, allowing myself to want him. I do want him. I want to be fucked by him. I want my boss to take me home and fuck my sissy pussy.
I shiver against him, and he holds me tight. “Problem?” he says into my ear, nibbling at it, sending prickles of passion down my spine.
“Yeah”, I say. “The car isn't here yet.”
About the Author
Sapphire Rush is a two-handed author of one-handed stories who lives and daydreams with a slightly tubby cat in London, England. Why not send an email to firstname.lastname@example.org?