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Night at the Video Store, part 3

bimbo crossdresser cruises video store in Black part of town
There I was a sissy bimbo dressed like a slut in a short black micro mini skirt, spike heels, lots of junk jewelry, huge platinum blonde wig, shoulder strap white fur purse and, of course, perfect make up.

I had never been to this video theatre before and was nervous at first, but I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness and then moved into the theatre area. Screen five was recommended to me by the door girl, who I knew from other theatres. She knew I was a cross dresser and a bimbo slut to the extreme, but since I am so fem and so slender, she told me I would be recognized or viewed as a girl by any guy sitting in the dark. She smiled and said, "Good luck baby girl."

The screen five theatre I entered had an interracial picture going on of NFL type Blacks working over college girls. I have to admit it was hot. There were no theatre seats there, but instead there were couches and comfortable chairs in the main area and there were individual private booths in the back that had an entrance from an outside hallway. Once inside the booth you could watch the movies through a window. There was also seating in those little booths consisting of a bench that was a step up from the floor and just enough room for two people. The bench however was deep, being about five feet deep and covered with a cushion. The bench was kind of like a little bed-cave in that booth.

I walked slowly, slowly into the main room, my purse swinging against my hip and then struted across the front of the screen, so that everyone could see me. I took a seat on a couch on the right hand side of the theatre about one third the way to the front. They didn't let you smoke, but somebody was smoking something sweet.

It was about two minutes later when a huge Black guy came up behind me. "You like black cock?" he said.

"I never turned one down," I whispered, and he laughed. "I got a booth back here," he said and motioned toward the back hallway of the theatre.

"Where?" I said. My nipples were starting to get hard and my little love hole was kind of wet.

"Follow me," he said, and he then took my arm to steer me like I was a little piece of his property already. We went to the booth and he closed and locked the door with a click.
 
"My, my, you're somethin," he said. "What you doin in a place like this?"

The only thing I could think to say was, "Black is beautiful." He laughed out loud. "No, I mean it. Black is beautiful," I whispered in his ear, while at the same time I started playing with one of his nipples. When I did that he let his breath out in a kind of gush that excited me more than ever. Nipple play is one of my best skills. Most females don't realize that, but an experienced cross dresser knows that from experience.

"Well if it's beautiful you gonna see it up close," he laughed as he untied the drawstring to his sweat pants.What popped out was the biggest, largest, and thickest black cock I had ever seen. It was actually glistening in the dim light and the head was the size of a large mushroom. I felt faint.

It was rock hard and had a lot of veins on it and was slightly turned up at the end which made me think, "Hmmm, this is going to be fun." It turned out to be true.

My first inclination was to say something to him but my instinct said, "No." Instead I should do something. He sat on the bench and I knelt in front of him. The image of me that flashed through my mind was of a little slender, fem, white sissyboi, getting ready to be used by a two hundred ninety pound linebacker type of black god, a dream come true for me or any other serious cross dresser. My own private gift to a superior male type is what I considered myself at times like that. This was when I am was useful to black men.

He barely sat down, before I grabbed that monster cock and started jacking him. He closed his eyes and then I popped him in my mouth and started bobbing my head up and down, up and down. When I took him out, I smiled my sweetest little girl smile and asked him in my best little lisp, "Is this okay? Am I okay? Tell me if I should do it some other way or just differently." I have practiced that lisp for a long time. I now have it down exactly as it should be, so that the guy thinks and thinks about what he is going to do with me. I could see it in his eyes and this particular black god was thinking about that lisp and about the rest of me very intently.

"Mmm baby, you good," he whispered. I never felt more honored than at that moment, but the best was yet to come. He would soon discover why I acted so bimbo, confused and passive. He would discover I was in a chastity cage, like a lot of dedicated crossdressers are and that I was totally crazy with desire. I just couldn't do anything about it. I would find out differently. He had a plan.

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