My Night With A Goddess - My First Transexual Experience - Part 2 - Sex Stories

My Night With A Goddess - My First Transexual Experience - Part 2

... what appears to be a ladder emerging from a door halfway up.

Bingo. But how do I get into the building?

I glance inside the main entryway via the stunning glass doors. The security appears uncompromising. Two robust men clothed in posh uniforms. I've sweet-talked one in the past, but this situation feels different. Scarier. I think it's safer to dodge them.

I suppose my best bet is to patiently wait for someone and tailgate behind them similar to those eerie men portrayed in films.

A tedious span of ten minutes passes without a soul around. It's only to be expected at such an early hour of three in the morning.

Ugh. Every second I waste here is another perverted touch by that man

Finally, like a turtle crossing the street, an older man dressed in a fancy suit, eyes up the door to my side. It looks like he has been working through the night in an office; his leather briefcase clutched tightly in his fingers. His face is fixed on the door and doesn’t seem to want to make any eye contact with me.

Awkwardly clutching my duffle bag, I silently wish for the approaching man to hold the door open for a girl struggling to reach her keys. As the man takes his time to reach me, he distinctly avoids acknowledging my pleading grin.

With a gleaming gold keycard in hand, he brushes it over the sensor next to the door. The indicator light changes from red to green - a sign that we've been granted access.

A hint of anticipation sparks in me as I moisten my lips ...

... and my eyes grow larger. Cautiously, I inch closer to the man.

“I don’t think so,” the man says grumpily, halting me in my tracks. “You partying lot always trying to get in the building. Make loud noises. Steal our cars.”

“No, I just can’t find my keys.”

“You reek of lies and cigarettes.”

“Ah silly me, I forgot them in my room upstairs.”

“Go harass another building,” he says gruffly as the large glass door is slowly about to close.

No. This is my last attempt to get into the building. I can’t waste another second.

The door is kept from latching by my foot. It's painfully jammed between the hefty door and its steel frame. It's possibly fractured in multiple places, but my adrenaline prevents me from concentrating on the discomfort. A security officer casts a wary glance my way from his desk.

"Please, hold on," I plead, erasing the alluring smile from my face and revealing my genuine desperation. "Someone upstairs needs me, and I'm the only one who can help. Please. She’s important to me. This is the truth."

The man comes to a standstill without pivoting, his slick silver hair shimmering as he shakes his head slowly. He turns around and finally meets my desperate gaze. His jaw clenches and walks toward the door. “I’ve been a lawyer for thirty years. I can sense the honesty in your voice. Sometimes it helps to just speak the truth from the beginning – skip past all the bullshit. But if I hear of any parties or stolen cars, I will give the police your ...