White Teen Fucks Her Black BF

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I woke on my third morning as a woman, completely at ease with myself. Ichose a trouser-suit this time, my dark brown one, with a pale greenblouse. It had a classic shirt collar, which I turned outside my jacketlike yesterday. This time I was looking forward to work, feeling that Iwas beginning to get my teeth into it. I couldn't wait to meet Daveagain, at lunch and dinner. I even caught myself fantasising aboutliving with him or even marrying him. Well, a girl could dream, couldn'tshe? But every time I thought about my future, my career as anunderwriter, I felt guilty about leaving Peter's wife with that body-switching witch, or whatever he/she was. OMG, I was thinking of Susan as"his wife", now! She seemed so distant.Lunch with Dave was delightful, probably because I was so much morerelaxed today. I found out much more about him, realising that I haddone too much of the talking when nervous. He was more relaxed too andwe only giggled when we passed the alley I'd dragged him into. How a man would not want to fulfill the wish of a beautiful woman?I was just an average man who fell in lust with the beauty. I promised her to eat her pussy all day.Coming back to the main story, Khusboo’s pussy was already wet and hot fluids were leaking out. I inserted a finger inside it. “Aah”, she stopped chewing food for a moment. Soft moans spilled out of her lips. I took my wet fingers to my mouth and tasted her sauce.“Your sauce matches with your food”, I teased her.“Aah.. you are too naughty”, she patted my arm.We stopped the lunch halfway as I wanted to taste more of her sauce. I picked her up and placed on the dining table. Khusboo giggled and did not object what I was doing.She opened her legs for me. I lapped on her sauce. She arched her back and closed her eyes. I continued to lick on her slit. Her mouth was open wide as she moaned in pleasure. My tongue played with her hood where she hid her clit.“Ah”, she cried out. But we both knew that it was the cry of pleasure.My.
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The one with the butterfly embroidery, isn’t it?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘I like that one too.’ He pulls me close so I can feel his erection at my back. I imagine him dressed in the navy polo shirt and crisp khaki slacks I ironed this morning, his brown leather loafers, the gold face of his Rolex pressing into my thigh. He is rubbing me more urgently now. I squeeze his hand with my thighs. I lean my head on his shoulder. I look into his eyes, light blue and pensive. I know he is thinking about where he can take me. ‘Which part were you reading?’ he asks. ‘The part where he strokes his massive erection.’ ‘You like that part.’ ‘Not really.’ ‘Do you want me to do that?’ ‘Only if you want to.’ ‘You’re so thin these days.’ He tucks a few strands of my hair over my ear. ‘But your hair looks healthy still. So glossy black and full of waves. You smell like raspberries today.’ He presses his lips to my shoulder again. ‘Let’s go to the back, the warehouse I think should be okay.’ He helps me to my feet and.

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