My Unintentional Threesome Part One - Sex Stories

My Unintentional Threesome Part One

I Can Feel You On My Lips, I Can Feel You Deep Inside Part I of II

“I’m not 100% passable, and I’m closeted, so I don’t know if I will pass your test, and I don’t want to do anything with anyone who isn’t into it,” I replied in our email exchange, after he asked me if I actually looked like a real girl.

“Send me another pic, in real time, showing me what you’ll look like when I meet you,” he said, and he attached a picture of himself.

He was thin, had a goatee, was wearing a wife beater t-shirt that was hugging his fairly sculpted body, and no pants or underwear, revealing his rather thick, rock hard cock. He wasn’t smiling in the picture, he appeared to be all business.

I had sent him 2 or 3 pics at this point, but they were from the recent past. I told him to give me 5 minutes and that I’d send one over. I was wearing a shoulder length platinum blonde wig with pink highlights, a pink satin spaghetti strap ruffle wrap mini-dress with a pink wireless bra, and pink satin bikini panties. This was the first time I had ever tucked my junk with gauze and medical tape, and I couldn’t believe how non-existent my clitty and her twins were when I looked at myself in the mirror!

I freshened up my lip gloss and eyeliner, then snapped a couple of pics and sent them over. I know I’m biased, but I looked fucking hot, especially for me. He obviously agreed with me, because within a couple of minutes, he replied and told me where to meet him.

“Very nice,” he said, “I’ll ...

... meet you in the Publix parking lot on Long Hollow Pike. I drive a white Toyota Tundra. What do you drive?”

I told him that I’ll be there in my black BMW 535i, and he gave me the time. My heart was racing as I told him I would see him there, and began gathering my things. I threw my lipstick, poppers, lube, cigs, lighter, gum, and rubbers into a tiny clutch, and made a drink for the road.

Britney’s Blackout was pumping through my car stereo as I drove towards my man. If my life as a sissy slut was ever reduced to a series of cut images shown in a rapid fire montage, like in Requiem For A Dream, a few of those images would be pink satin panties and bra, sparkle pink lip gloss, and Britney Spears Blackout.

The drive was about 25 minutes, and I calmly drove along, sipping on my beverage, having a smoke, and singing along with the music as I played scenarios out in my head of what might be happening when I get up with Tim, the guy I met off of Craigslist, who was strictly into “passable sissies.”

I arrived at the Publix parking lot, and pulled over to the area where he said he would meet me at, and stepped out of the car to stretch my legs after freshening up my lipstick. Speaking of legs, I wore a sleeveless satin blouse, a black and white checkerboard skirt, and black stockings. I saw a white Toyota Tundra circling up by the store entrance, and spotted him with the window down and staring at me as he drove slowly through the lot. Once he saw me looking at him, he turned ...