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By *ally_Rod OP TV/TS
over a year ago
Bundoran Enniskillen Herts North London |
"You look like you're off to the nightclub, not the local corner shop..."
"Well, you know I like to keep up appearances, we all need to make an effort during lockdown."
As I touched up my bottom lip with another daub of deepest red L'Oreal, I caught my own eye in the hall mirror and allowed myself the faintest of smiles.
My husband had an underlying medical condition and the task had fallen on me to make the endless daily forays to the newsagents. Papers. Milk. Sausage rolls. Treats for the kids. Repeat. There was no need for scribbled lists. All was tattooed numbingly on my brain like a catechism.
But all this tedium had to have its compensations. And her name was Timmi.
A couple of months before lockdown, Timmi had landed like some exotic butterfly, lighting up our dreary corner of Belfast by working in the local corner shop. With her dazzling smile, charming demeanour and yes, let's face it, her wildly good Asian looks and long and elegant body, she had become a local cause celebre in the sexless world of social distancing.
Timmi was like no-one I'd ever seen before. As I got to know her, a little more every day, I discovered that she had left her home in Bangladesh, looking for a better life in the West. We joked together sometimes about how the plane must have got lost in the fog and landed in Belfast instead of New York by mistake. Timmi had a fantastic and naughty sense of humour. But there was a sadness there too.
And as for me? Well, nothing out of the ordinary, you might say. A working Mum in her forties with a family of three. But I have my secrets, too. And the biggest of all, which even my husband doesn't know, is that I'm attracted to women. As in seriously attracted. Always have been. But never said anything to anyone, even less did anything about it. But now with Timmi, things felt different. I was on the verge of doing something. And Timmi knew it too.
Timmi was a daring dresser and each day I would respond in kind. On Monday she would wear a short black leather mini that would show off her amazing legs. On Tuesday I would tempt her back with a pair of fishnet stockings and a low plunging top to flaunt my big creamy DD boobs. We played out this daily dance of dare and double dare for weeks during lockdown.
Most days we would share a giggle as we whispered at the checkout about the older guys at the magazine rack, pretending to read Vintage Cars or Tractor Monthly. Of course they were here for one thing, and one thing only. To perve over the glowing sexual constellation that was Timmi. And I in truth was no different to them. The only difference was that I had somehow forged a connection with her. Without so much as a touch, and without even saying those words. But through our eye contact, our clothing and our shared body language, Timmi and I knew we wanted each other. And then one day it happened and things were never going to be quite the same again.
I had never actually seen the manager of the newsagent but judging from some of the magazines on the top shelf, his interests were a little more risqué than vintage cars and tractors. Perched next to the obligatory stroke mags like Escort and Razzle were some seriously kinky titles. My favourite amongst these was a monthly publication known as Skin Two. I've always had a thing about PVC and leather and I made it my occasional treat, when everyone was out, to lie back on the family sofa and luxuriate in the high resolution images of impossibly tall, sculpted German women, wrapped in skin-tight black and gold latex. There would be glory holes in the latex of course, exposing a taught erect nipple here, and a glorious, pink shaved pussy there. In a homage to my teenage years, when my parents had been out of the house, I fingered myself deliriously, working myself into a lather, until I had formed a pussy-juice stain of defiance, etched in the fabric of the sofa.
It seemed to amuse Timmi, when I invited her to conceal the mag for me, by slipping it into the middle of my newspaper.
"You are a naughty girl", she intoned, in a quiet, intimate voice. "Does your husband enjoy these too?"
I wanted to say, and almost blurted out: 'My husband doesn't even know who I am.'
But I bit my lip and just laughed with her.
It was late June now and Timmi, like many shop workers had dispensed with those irritating, ill-fitting blue gloves. As I reached out to take my newspaper and its secret contents, her beautifully manicured fingers touched mine, skin to skin, for the first time. The intensity of the contact took us both by surprise, there was a kind of electricity between us, like the static that builds up in an office, and is suddenly released.
Despite the queue behind us we held our fingers together for several tantalising moments. Then she looked at me directly and said:
"I have my own collection of these magazines, upstairs. Would you like to come and see them?"
A catalogue of excuses flooded my mind, but then I simply said:
"Yes, I'd love to."
"Come here tomorrow at 5pm, just before I cash-up"
We smiled together and I replied: "OK."
I spent the next 24 hours in a private cocktail of my own creation: one part high excitement to one part trepidation, with a good old dash of motherly guilt thrown in to boot. But I knew I had to go. I wanted to. Badly. That evening the alibi was cooked and served piping hot to my husband.
"I'll do a big Tesco shop, tomorrow evening. We're almost out of everything."
The click and collect I had done in secret would buy me the couple of hours I wanted to spend with Timmi.
When I arrived at the shop, just after 5pm, the steel shutters were half way down. I could see Timmi's long waxed legs and sexy heels moving around the shop. The coward in me wanted to turn and run but then suddenly the door shop swung open from the inside. I took it as my cue and limboed under the shutter.
"Hey. I thought you weren't coming."
"I had to cook the kids tea, what would they do without me", I lied.
"Take a seat hun, I won't be long"
Part of me was almost disappointed by Timmi's sing-song business-like demeanour. But I reminded myself: 'She has a day's work to finish.'
As I sat at the checkout, watching her bend over the price tags on the aisles, I realised that Timmi had surpassed herself. Her skirt was so short that her delicious bum cheeks were fully on display. The narrow black string of her thong was clearly visible. Her heels were skyscraper tall, almost stiletto, and I marvelled at her poise.
"You like the view hunni?", she smiled as she waltzed towards me.
"You know I always love the view in here."
We paused for a moment to take each other in. Above her tiny mini, Timmi wore a shimmering black silk shirt, almost fully unbuttoned now to show off her fantastic cleavage. She had crimped her long dark hair and fastened it with a pink lotus flower hair clip. All Geisha style. Her lipstick was a lush, girly pink to match. Every long slender finger bore a ring, and her nails were painted in an unnerving shade of deep indigo.
Compared to Timmi, I had dressed dowdily, to avoid any suspicions back home. But beneath my workaday clothes I had on my hottest lingerie - stockings and suspenders, black skimpy knickers and laciest, low-cut bra.
Timmi took my hand and stroked the back of it intently, gazing into my eyes. I couldn't disguise a tremble.
"Don't be nervous," she hushed. "Everything's locked up. No-one can disturb us."
Timmi's room was amazing. You'd never guess such a place could exist above a modest corner shop. I eased myself down into a deep red leather sofa.
"Would you like some rice wine babe, it kinda reminds me of home?"
"Thanks. Your place is gorgeous, Timmi. Did you choose everything yourself?"
It was all open plan. Marble work tops and accent walls of dark plum and burgundy. Modern art adorned the walls.
"Let's just say my landlord has expensive tastes."
But Timmi didn't smile when she said this.
Bringing our glasses to the sofa, she draped an elegant, languorous arm around my neck.
"I always knew this would happen. The first time I saw you in the shop."
"Me too. But I never quite believed it. I have kids and everything."
She looked wistful for a second.
"Would you like to see some photos? Of my family back in Bangladesh?"
"Of course, I'd love to."
I'd never known Timmi had her own family. She hadn't mentioned it. But it all felt so natural now. Like we'd known each other for years. The rice wine had a nice kick to it. I felt warm waves engulf me.
Timmi leafed through the album for me.
"It's a bit greener than Belfast, eh hun?"
It certainly was. The village was a riot of tropical foliage. Huge palm leaves hung over the roofs of the humble wooden shacks.
Then she said simply:
"My family."
I fixed the image in my mind for a moment, trying to figure it all out. There were two children, a girl and a boy about 7 or 8 years old, I guessed.
"Your kids? They're lovely."
"Thanks. I miss them so much."
In the picture, Timmi looked different somehow. There was a man, with delicate, finely chiselled features beside her.
"Your husband?"
She paused and her eyes drifted towards the sash windows and the far distance.
"No. That man is me."
For a second I didn't know where I was or even who I was. As the meaning of her words took hold, the universe began to spin. It was like vertigo, with the deep valley calling me below.
"I always felt like a woman, from the inside. But my family, the village...there is no place for a transsexual."
Now it was my turn to place an arm round Timmi's shoulder.
"I saw an advert. On the internet. The man who owns this shop paid for my flights. He even paid for my boob job. But now I have to re-pay him. In the shop everyday, and here in the evening as a whore."
My heart went out to her. I embraced Timmi like a sister.
"I felt so lonely. Then one day you came to my shop."
Big tears were rolling down her face. I reached out and wiped them away with my fingertips.
We were communicating now without words, moving purely within a world of touch and feeling.
Timmi took my fingers. She put the one with my wedding ring deep inside her mouth. Then slowly, and passionately she began to suck on it, next two, then three fingers, she sucked them all together. It was my gift to give them away to her, abandoned to her willing lips and tongue.
Before that trembling first kiss, we allowed ourselves a momentary gaze. Years later, on a busy street, I understood it. Two flowers opening together, the world of meaning melting away. Man. Woman. Bisexual. Transgender. Irrelevant labels.
Now I sucked gently on Timmy's bottom lip, enjoying the fullness and sensuality of it in my mouth. Then like a dream, she drew a perfect circle around my upper and lower lip with her tongue before plunging it deep into my mouth. We kissed hungrily, violently even.
I held the back of Timmi's head and forced her tongue deeper in to my mouth. She held it there taught for me to suck on. I licked her tongue stud rapidly with my own tongue. This made her groan, and then my top was off and her hands were all over my tits. Without undoing it, Timmi pulled them out of my lacey bra to fall freely and seductively, unbound. The cool contact of the air stiffened the nipples.
Timmi pushed my big creamy mounds together, burying her tongue and mouth deep within the ample cleavage.
"I just love your boobs, hun", she gasped between mouthfuls.
Timmi took my left breast and nipple almost fully in her mouth. I was amazed and thrilled by how much she could take in. I knew I'd met a kindred kinky spirit as she cupped my other breast and offered it to my own mouth. Having both my tits sucked at the same time is a massive turn on for me and quickly I guided Timmi's fingers to my already damp knickers. She pulled the fabric together, to make a tight band and then pulled it up and down across the outside of my wet slit, teasing me, building up a glorious, filthy friction.
Once she could see I was begging for it, she yanked down my knickers completely, then guided two of her elegant fingers deep inside my desperate-for-it-pussy. Although it both excited and appalled me, I could feel how Timmi's experience as a sex worker had made her a master of erotic technique - and with women as well as men. As my nipples were sucked, and my fanny was finger fucked, Timmi deftly positioned her free thumb on my swollen clit, rubbing my love juice softly into it like a lubricant.
She seemed to know exactly what else I needed to make my experience whole and to bring me to a swift, shuddering climax.
Releasing my nipple for a moment, she applied a big gloop of spittle to the middle finger of her other free hand, and smiled at me knowingly.
"Yes, yes" I mouthed voicelessly as I opened my legs wider and pulled my bum cheeks up higher and wider apart. Then Timmi closed my circle of delight by easing the tip of her slim elegant finger right inside the hot puckered star of my other love hole.
As her fingers skilfully penetrated the two holes, and my two tits were sucked on relentlessly, a tidal wave of orgasmic energy began to build inside me. As I began to come, in waves on that red sofa, Timmi released my boob from her mouth. She wanted to enjoy watching me cum. As each new spasm arrived, Timmi withdrew her fingers at just the right moment to allow my quim juice to squirt out of me, in jets across the red leather. Then Timmi put her face between my legs. I knew she wanted to taste the essence that was erupting out of me. I became even more excited. I couldn't stop now. I was in the grip of an uncontrollable multiple orgasm.
When my convulsions abated, Timmi kneeled in front of me, admiring the results of her artistry, flowing across the couch.
"Wow, hun", she grinned with a wry, mocking smile. "You certainly know how to cum."
Timmi took her black silk shirt off. Her boobs were flawless. The nipples and areoles were small and dark, like swollen bullets. She played with her nipple rings for my amusement.
Her all over smooth, toned golden body was perfection. But now my eyes were drawn to something else. The silk pouch of Timmi's thong. There was a breathtaking, unmistakable bulge. Timmi followed my eyes. She knew what I wanted to play with.
She shifted her body closer to me. And then she straddled my head with her long golden legs so that the swollen pouch was suspended just above my mouth.
To begin with, I just stroked the taut silk seductively, with a single finger, enjoying the growing hardness beneath the fabric. 'What would it look like?' I asked myself. Then, unable to restrain myself any longer, I pulled Timmi's thong outwards and down to reveal the mystery that lay beneath.
I'd seen my share of T-Girl porn. I loved it but sometimes felt let down by the tiny TS dicks on show. But not Timmi. Don't get me wrong. Her cock wasn't big. But neither was it small. Perfectly formed, straight as a rod, with a beautiful blue vein running its length, I guessed she possessed a delightful, proportioned 7 inches. I held it in both hands, one holding the shaft, the other cupping her gorgeous, full balls. Not a hair in sight, everything was smooth and waxed. I was thrilled to discover that Timmi had two new piercings, one behind the head of her cock in the place that loves to be licked, and one at the base of her balls, where it meets that gorgeous hump. Both were round gold studs, like perverted pearls from the floor of the sea.
Exploration. I began by tracing a tarty red finger nail from the purple head, brimming now with precum, flicking that first gold stud, then slowly on down the shaft, drawing circles round her balls, pulling gently on the second gold stud, then moving onwards to her pretty, puckered love hole. I was sure to work the precum I had collected en route into that lovely ass of hers.
What I did with my finger, I repeated with my tongue. Flicking the tip wildly around Timmi's piercings, I could see the pleasure it gave her, as she played simultaneously with her own nipple piercings. As I moved my tongue up and own, her erection became harder.
I wanted to eat Timmi whole now. Pulling her ass cheeks as wide apart as they would go, I pushed my tongue deep into her anus. I rolled my tongue around inside the sweet inner bum flesh in extravagant circles. Her back arched as I did this. Then she pushed my head in tighter to her beautiful bum, imploring me to rim her deeper and deeper.
The sheer intimacy of this act, and the effect it had on her, awoke my own desire once again. I had to have the whole of her cock in my mouth. I loved my slutty abandon as Timmi began to thrust her 7 inches into my mouth. She held the sides of my head to get more traction. If this was a head fuck, I was loving it.
But I needed to feel Timmi inside my new wetness too, before I would let her come in my mouth.
Withdrawing her sweet, smooth hardness from my mouth for a moment, I said hoarsely:
"Fuck me, Timmi."
I held my suspender clad legs as far apart as possible. I was soaking wet again. Timmi wiped the end of her cock provocatively up and down my outer labia, collecting love juice as she went. Then she brought her gold cock stud into contact with my clit. The sensation of that small smooth, wet metal bead on my rosebud was like nothing I'd experienced before.
Slowly and gracefully, she took her rock hard shaft with its regal purple head, and eased it inch by inch into my pink, swollen gash. When it was fully inside I felt the lapping of her balls against my bum cheeks. The other gold stud at the base of her balls nestled and teased the open puckered star of my ass. God how I loved that feeling!
Now that she was inside as far as she could go, Timmi brought her mouth down to mine and we kissed wildly, like new lovers. She withdrew her glistening member, slowly once more, inch by inch. We held each others' gaze as she did this. We did it again and again.
Timmi's strokes became swifter and stronger. As I began to moan, she moved above me, changing the angle of her cock to make more contact with my engorged clit. There was now a beautiful squelching sound coming from my pussy and we allowed ourselves a silly schoolgirl giggle together.
As Timmi's climax arrived, she pulled out with balletic grace and pointed her cock purposefully at my gaping mouth, The slut in me extended my tongue, ready to receive her load. Rubbing her cock furiously now, Timmi let out a groan of deepest pleasure and relief as she spurted 5, 6 - was it 7 times in total? An uncontrollable, ecstatic hydrant of spunk, shooting above me on to the red leather, in my hair, in my mouth, everywhere.
Timmi licked up the jissum running between my boobs and tongued it lovingly back into my mouth. We cum shared way beyond my Tesco slot. We had clicked, and I had definitely collected.
As we lay in each others' arms, utterly spent and happy, I understood that Timmi had not just fucked me, beautiful though that fuck had been. For the first time in countless years, another human being had made love to me. And now it was my turn to shed a tear.
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POSTSCRIPT
Dear Reader,
When does lust come before love, and when does love come before lust? Happy the person for whom they are conjoined, into one luminous whole. Timmy escaped the shackles of her sex-trafficker and left the room above the corner shop forever. And after years of lifeless marriage, I finally walked, though I remain a loving and involved mother. Now Timmy and I live together, in a studio flat, above a different corner shop in an altogether sunnier street in Belfast. And oh, did I mention that we had joined fabswingers? Well, here we are, one of the site's more unlikely, but most adorable couples, if you please. And if you're thinking of finding us? Well, I guess, in swinging, as in life, we all have to learn to use the search button, eventually.
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