Chapter Fifteen – Bettys Down Under
Michele had an emotional last day with Ying. As well as lovers, they had become good friends. Michele promised to write to Ying and vowed that one day she would return to Thailand and they would reunite. Their last night together was a sex-charged boozy affair and Michele rose early the next morning and left Ying fast asleep in the hotel. She was emotionally drained and didn't want an extended farewell. She left an envelope with a considerable amount of cash on the bedside table; kissed the sleeping Ying on the cheek and left.
When Michael returned on board HMS Ark Royal dressed in his uniform, he went straight down to the Bettys' mess and climbed in his bunk exhausted.
Michele awoke around midday, dressed, applied makeup and went up the ladder to find Rod, Knocker, Steve, Doris, Polly and Mary sitting morosely around the bar. They looked sad and sullen and it was obvious the girls had been crying.
“What’s going on?” Michele asked.
“Here; have a drink,” Knocker poured Michele a scotch.
Michele sat at the table with the other girls and Knocker bought the drink over and rubbed Michele on the shoulder.
“It’s a bit early to be getting on the lash, isn’t it? We’ve got to set up and be ready to open at 1700,” Michele said.
The girls looked at her incredulously.
“You haven’t heard then?” Polly whispered.
“Heard what?” Michele replied sipping the scotch.
Polly looked meaningfully at Rod and Rod pulled up a chair next to Michele and took her hands in his.
“Jason Jones was found dead in the Chao Phraya River last night. It looks like he’d been beaten and thrown in the river to drown,” Rod spoke very softly.
“Well let’s face it; he was a belligerent drunk who went looking for trouble. I’m not really that surprised,” Michele responded and sipped her drink.
“You heartless bitch!” Polly hissed. “He used to be your lover.”
“Yeah, used to be. Then he became a petulant, jealous arsehole. You saw what he did to me at Pink Pussycats, and again in Pompey, and again in Naples, and even on board here. We had to sack him, for fuck sake!” Michele replied.
“Yeah, but he didn’t deserve that!” Polly cried.
“Really? Ask Doris about how he used her for revenge sex? Ask Rod about how he constantly harassed Lieutenant Winters, our best customer? But don’t ask me about what he put me through because you saw what you saw but you didn’t see everything!” Michele replied.
“Look, it’s a sad occurrence but who knows what Spike got up to in Bangkok. We all saw how confrontational he became when he was drunk. If he started a fight with those Thai street gangs or nightclub bouncers, then anything could have happened.
“Now. We’ve drank to his demise and yes, there will be some fond memories of him but let’s get over it and get this place ready to open for business,” Michele concluded.
“Cold bitch!” Polly whispered under her breath and looked at Michele suspiciously.
Eventually, the girls and lads turned too and opened Barrack Room Bettys for business as usual. It was a five-day voyage from Bangkok to Singapore, exercising with the task group along the way.
BRB was busy and Michele made an effort to be her gregarious self. The other three girls were attractive and engaging but there was no doubt that Michele was the Belle of BRB.
Outside of work, Michele had become withdrawn and moody; she was drinking more than usual and was often quarrelsome. The others put it down to sorrow at the loss of Jason Jones and Michele had told Polly, who despite their differences still remained her best friend, about Ying, and they also assumed Michele was pining for her Ladyboy lover.
The Ark berthed in Sembawang Basin Singapore, the last bastion of the Royal Navy in South East Asia. The first day was busy as usual storing ship and for the Bettys, stowing away contraband that Rod had ordered ahead of the ship’s arrival.
Michele went ashore in Singapore on her own just like she had in Bangkok and got herself a hotel room in the city not far from Bugis Street where the Singaporean Ladyboys, known as Beanie Boys, plied their trade.
The first night ashore Michele wondered down to Bugis Street which was renowned internationally for its nightly parade of flamboyantly-dressed transvestites and transsexual women and attracted hordes of Caucasian gawkers who had never before witnessed Asian queens in full regalia.
The Beanies would tease, cajole and sit on visitors' laps or pose for photographs for a fee.
Others would sashay up and down the street looking to hook half-drunk sailors for an hour of profitable intimacy. The adage amongst Westerners was that one could easily tell who was a real female and who was not; the transvestites were drop-dead gorgeous, while the rest were real women.
Michele was able to witness one of the ‘hallowed traditions’ bestowed upon the area by sojourning sailors, the ritualistic ‘Dance of the Flaming Arseholes’ or ‘Flamers’ as the sailors called it, on top of the infamous flat-top outdoor toilet’s roof. Their compatriots on the ground were chanting the signature "Haul 'Em Down You Zulu Warrior" song whilst the matelots performed their act.
Michele did take a couple of Beanies back to her hotel the first two nights in port and they too were amazed at the English transvestite, but it wasn’t the same as it was with Ying and in fact, all it did was make her melancholy.
Michele stopped bringing Beanies back to the hotel and engaged a few of the British soldiers stationed in Singapore who were more than happy to fuck a beautiful white transvestite as a change from the local Beanies. The sex was emotionless and Michele just used it as a distraction and to sate her own desires. She charged the men for sex, something she had never done except in BRB, and often went through multiple partners each night, venturing out to Bugis Street where she quickly picked up a punter and bought him back to the hotel for ‘short time’.
The Beanies became a little belligerent with her taking their trade and the Mamasans would scream abuse at her as Michele sashayed drunkenly down Bugis Street displaying her wares. Michele increasingly found herself drinking more than she meant to and by the time the port visit was over she made a conscious decision to curb her drinking and get her life back in order.
She’d made quite a profit from prostituting herself in Singapore and deposited the money into her ever-growing bank account on board the Ark.
Michele sobered up during the passage to Sydney Australia and put all of her effort into her work at Barrack Room Bettys. The others noticed that she seemed more cheerful and were relieved.
During the two-week passage from Singapore to Sydney, BRB did a roaring trade. Their throng of ‘trusted agents’ issued with the black BRB business card with the familiar logo of a Wren perched on a barstool with her head thrown back smiling with red-lipsticked lips, had swelled and BRB was packed every night.
Michele and Rod were getting a little worried that the secret of BRB might get out and the hierarchy in the ship find out and close them down and charge them under Naval Regulations. Rod had most of the key people in ship bribed but Ark Royal was a big ship and he couldn’t bribe everyone. Some of their punters had got tattoos in Singapore of the smiling Wren on the barstool with ‘BRB’ stylised underneath. There was little they could do but hope their secret remained a secret.
The Bettys, dressed as sailors in uniform, leaned on the guardrail in the port after ladder bay and watched as the ship approached Sydney Harbour. Ships of the Royal Australian Navy came out to greet the RN Flagship and they entered Sydney in column with HMS Ark Royal leading. The Bettys were impressed when they saw the magnificent Harbour Bridge and the Opera House but then it was time to go below so the real sailors could fall in for entering harbour ‘Procedure Alpha’ which meant all hands on deck in their dress uniforms.
As usual, contraband was loaded on board and struck down before the Bettys proceeded ashore in uniform carrying their female accoutrements in their bags. They would all stay at the same hotel this time and Michele had got Rod to do some research before the ship arrived so they knew where to go.
The ship was berthed at Garden Island Naval Dockyard which was located at the bottom of the Macleay Street hill which led to Kings Cross, Sydney’s red-light district. Halfway up the hill was the Chevron Hotel, which was a perfect base for the Bettys. The girls went to their rooms having stopped at the ‘bottle shop’ underneath the hotel to get ‘take away’ beer, spirits and mixers. They wasted no time getting changed into their finery and met in Michele’s room for drinks.
“Here. Listen to this brochure I found in the foyer,” Michele said.
“The Kings Cross district is Sydney's bohemian heartland being both Sydney’s main tourist accommodation and entertainment mecca, as well as its red-light district. The ‘Queen of the Cross’ and Australia's first widely known transgender person, Sarina, headlines the world-famous all-female impersonator revue at Les Girls nightclub,” Michele read aloud from the pamphlet.
“Sounds like our sort of place,” Polly grinned.
“Fuck it’s good to be in a country where people look like us and speak English,” Doris smiled, swigging a gin and tonic and sucking on a cigarette.
“Well, sort of…Hey Mate!” Mary giggled.
“Yeah, but all the blokes look healthy and tanned. I want one!” Polly laughed.
“Well, let’s finish these drinks and go and get one. I fancy a quick shag then out on the town,” Michele beamed.
The girls clinked their glasses together in agreement.
It was early evening when the girls went down to the main bar under the Chevron Hotel which the Aussie sailors referred to as ‘The Shitfight’. It was a nice enough bar, very large and modern in comparison to the pubs the girls were used to in the UK, but it was rowdy, packed with sailors, local identities, and women of varying virtue.
‘Trannies’, as the Aussies referred to the transgendered, were a common sight in the Cross so they were not out of place and were soon surrounded by Australian sailors wanting to buy them drinks.
The girls fended off the drunks and the displeasing and eventually they found a booth with four young, fit, tanned Aussie sailors dressed in ‘schooner-rig’ consisting of navy blue bell-bottoms and the square-necked, blue trimmed, ‘white front’.
The sailors and the girls were soon engaged in kissing, fondling and groping under the table.
“I’m Gary,” Michele’s beau introduced himself before taking her in his arms and kissing her.
His hand went straight under her dress and stroked her thighs.
“Yum, stockings! I love a girl in stockings,” he smiled.
“How about you come up to my room and explore them further?” Michele grinned.
“Fuck, you pommy trannies don’t muck about, do ya. Okay, let’s go,” Gary stood and Michele could see the erection tenting his uniform trousers.
The other girls rose and walked hand in hand with their beaus to the elevators. They crowded into the lift and it was soon filled with moans of passion as the four trannies and the four sailors groped, fondled and kissed.
Michele led Gary down the corridor and opened the door to her suite and pushed him inside, slamming the door behind her. She threw her small clutch purse on a nearby chair.
Gary surveyed Michele as she stood with her back to the door, reaching behind to lock it.
The tall, slim, transvestite with the pretty face was spectacular. He couldn’t take his eyes off her long legs; her stocking tops were actually visible below the hem of her mini cocktail dress. His cock began to thicken immediately.
They each made no pretence of being in Michele’s room for any reason other than to have sex.
“Let’s go, Michele.” Gary took Michele in his arms and kissed her passionately, rubbing his body against her.
Michele slavered her tongue around in Gary’s mouth and felt his erection rub against her through her clothing. She manoeuvred a hand between their bodies and squeezed Gary’s penis through the material of his trousers. Gary groaned and pushed her back onto the bed and fell down on top of her, never breaking their kiss.
He humped away at her, his need for release overwhelming. Michele reached between their bodies and opened his flies and freed Gary’s cock from the prison of his trousers; it felt long, thick, and meaty. Gary pushed his trousers down while Michele reached out for the KY jelly she had purposely left on the bedside table and slathered his phallus with the lubricant. She had lubricated herself internally prior to going out for the evening in anticipation of having sex.
Gary didn’t even remove her panties; he simply slid the gusset to one side and then slowly slid his entire length inside Michele until his scrotum rested against her buttocks. Michele grunted as Gary’s cock filled her, but she liked the feeling of the hard member crammed inside her and especially liked the tingling feeling emanating from her prostate whenever Gary’s glans rubbed against it.
Their fucking was almost savage; Gary pounded away at Michele as she rose her buttocks up off the bed to meet his thrusts. They never broke their kiss and they gasped and groaned into each other’s mouths as their tongues entwined and teeth occasionally cracked together with the ferocity of the sex. Gary managed to shuck off his white front and when Michele bought up her legs and wrapped them around him he savoured the feel of Michele’s stockings rubbing against his skin.
The fucking became a frenzy. Gary jack-hammered his cock in and out Michele’s tight anus and Michele, impaled on Gary’s hard throbbing cock, clung to him and wriggled and shook her backside. She thrust her hips upward to match his strokes ensuring his full length penetrated her slick anal sheath and crossed her ankles behind Gary’s back, her stockings hissing as they rubbed together and against Gary’s sensitive skin.
Michele felt her orgasm approaching as Gary howled and moaned with the rush of his own climax. She felt Gary’s cock convulse deep inside her as he filled her back passage with his hot seed. Michele’s cock was erect and rubbing against Gary’s stomach through the flimsy material of her panties as Gary savagely fucked her. The pressure and friction induced her own climax and she groaned in ecstasy as she flooded her panties with hot semen. Gary’s cock pounding in and out of her anus further stimulated her and she was wracked by a very intense orgasm.
Gary’s thrusting slowed down as his orgasm subsided and eventually he lay still on top of Michele with his slowly deflating penis buried in her anus. He was still kissing Michele and he could tell that her orgasm was still raging through her body; he felt her penis convulsing in her panties and her hot seed flooding through the panty material and soaking his belly.
Michele’s climax began to subside and as she came down from the sexual high, Gary finally broke the kiss and smiled down at her.
“Well, that was good” he smiled.
“Yeah; I enjoyed it,” Michele grinned up at him.
“Well thanks, darling,” Gary leaned down and kissed her.
Gary eased his cock out of Michele’s anus and knelt on the bed between her spread legs. He wiped his cock and belly with a towel. Then he stood up and put his cock back into his pants and zipped his flies; he shucked into his white front and tucked it in.
Gary passed the towel to Michele.
“Here, honey, clean yourself up,” he said.
Michele wiped at her semen soaked panties and looked up at Gary. He was a well-built handsome young man. She thought that she could become quite attached to a man like him, but she had thought that about Spike too and look where that had ended up. She pulled down her dress and sat on the bed lighting a cigarette.
“Okay, see you, babe,” Michele got up and walked to the door.
“But!” Gary looked a little peeved.
“That was fun, honey, but I’m not looking for a boyfriend,” Michele hustled him out the door and closed it.
She burst out laughing.
“You naughty girl!” she smiled to herself.
She went into the bathroom to clean up properly and fix her makeup and change her knickers.
The girls drifted into Michele’s room one at a time, having sated their lust.
They sat around drinking gin and tonics.
The girls compared notes.
“I tell ya, Michele; except for those Eyeties in Naples, these Aussie hunks are the best,” Doris smirked.
“He was this big!” Mary laughed. She held her palms six inches apart and then slowly opened them until they were eight, then ten inches apart.
“Never!” Doris guffawed.
“I tell ya I’m walking bow-legged,” Mary burst out laughing and rolled on the couch.
“You’re quiet, Polly?” Michele raised her brows.
Polly sat back with her head resting on the back of the couch.
“I’m just basking in the afterglow of the best rogering I’ve had since recruit school,” Polly beamed.
“Do you miss Jean Burgess?” Mary asked.
“Yes and no. I write to him, but I’m having too much fun to miss him that much.” Polly downed her gin and tonic and poured another.
“Certainly more than Michele misses Jason Jones,” she said cynically, looking at Michele over the rim of her glass.
“Fuck off!” Michele’s stared evilly at her friend.
Polly shrugged her shoulders and sipped her drink and lit a cigarette.
“Okay, girls. Who wants to really have some fun?” Michele asked, changing the subject.
“What are we going to do now? Suck off some more sailors?” Doris laughed.
Michele rummaged in her purse and brought out four tickets which she held up for the girls to see.
“I have tickets here for Australia’s best rock and roll band, Billy Thorpe & The Aztecs,” she smiled at the girls. “Upstairs at the Silver Spade Room. It’s a class venue and we have seats at a table for four. My treat,” Michele grinned.
The girls all clapped and smiled.
“Fuck me, Michele; you’re a hard girl to dislike. Sometimes I think you’re a cold-hearted bitch and sometimes I think I love you,” Polly said drunkenly.
“And you’re drunk…Woah! Here we go!” Michele grabbed Polly and led her to the bathroom.
She helped Polly to her knees while she vomited into the bowl. When Polly had finished, Michele took her to the vanity unit and put a cold compress on her face and the gave her a glass of water to rinse her mouth. She let Polly use her toothbrush and sat her down and fixed her makeup and brushed her wig.
“You know I love you?” Michele said as she stood behind Polly brushing her hair, fussing over her so she looked perfect.
“And I love too, Chelle; but sometimes you make it hard.” Polly met her eyes in the mirror.
Michele and Polly came out of the ensuite together.
“Okay, you Barrack Room Bettys, follow me to the Silver Spade Room. The champagne is on me and any girl that doesn’t get some beefy Aussie lifesaver to go home with her is a poofter!” Michele said in her best faux Aussie accent.
The girls had a ball at the concert. The band played hard rock for three sets and after the show had finished, the guys in the band came out into the audience and a couple sat with the girls.
The Bettys were quite drunk by now but were still having a good time.
“I’m Colin, the drummer,” the long-haired handsome man said as he seated himself beside Michele.
“Fuck me; I’ve come twelve thousand miles and still can’t fuck a real musician!” Michele giggled.
“Hey!” Colin replied, a little bemused.
But when Michele kissed him and squeezed him through his skin-tight jeans all was forgiven. Michele slipped her spare room key into his hand.
“Room seven, seventeen. Give me half an hour to get ready,” she bit his ear playfully.
Ensuring that Doris, Mary and Polly had engaged with other men, Michele snuck away. She was more than a little drunk but happy.
She went back to her room and freshened up, fixed her makeup and changed into something more alluring. She lay on the bed and was just about to fall asleep when she heard the key rattle in the lock.
Colin came through the door and liked what he saw.
Michele wore a full-length white silk nightgown thrown open and spread out on the bed like angel's wings. A matching white bustier adorned her body, the garter straps clipped to white nylon stockings. He could just make out the triangle of white satin panties between her legs which were spread slightly apart; her feet were shod in white high-heeled sandals, her white stockings gossamer thin, stretched taut over her red-painted toenails. Michele held out a hand and beckoned.
Colin shucked out his denim jeans and jacket and his white T-shirt. He kicked off his boots and socks and dropped his underpants.
He strode towards the bed, his manhood erect before him, a rope of gleaming, clear pre-seminal fluid leaking from the eye, and Michele reached out and took him in a firm grip and pulled him onto the bed. She opened her legs wide and he knelt between them, neither of them saying a word. He bent down and kissed her passionately on the lips and she responded and moaned deep down in the back of her throat.
She still held his manhood in a firm grip as she slid herself underneath him and eased her panties aside with one hand and positioned his member at the entrance to her special place. She lifted her white-nyloned legs up high and brought her calves up around Colin's lower back so that her high-heels were high in the air and almost touching. Michele pulled up her lower body and at the same time guided Colin's beautiful hard slick member inside her. They never stopped kissing. Michele rose up and locked her heels behind his back as Colin thrust forward so that she could force all of him inside her. They rode the waves of mutual pleasure slowly, Colin taking his time so that Michele's orgasm would come at the same time as his.
He released streams of his hot seed deep inside her and she responded by rising up and holding him tightly against her as she emptied her own emission into her panties. Michele could feel Colin's hot spend deep inside her. Colin could feel Michele's secretions saturating her panties, soaking through, warm and sticky against his lower belly. Their lips had never parted throughout their lovemaking. Colin begrudgingly drew his face away from Michele's just far enough so that he could look adoringly into her pretty blue eyes.
"I gotta go, Michele," he whispered.
"You gotta go, Colin," she whispered back.
Michele’s sleep was deep and satisfying. The best sleep she had had since the ship left Bangkok.
She awoke refreshed the next day and pulled open the curtains to be greeted by a bright sunny day.
Michele took Polly, Doris and Mary on a tour of Sydney to see the sights. The girls were passable, dressed in jeans, T-shirts, platform shoes, good quality wigs, breast forms filling their bra cups, and light makeup. They had gaffed, and talking in falsetto when dressed en femme came naturally to them. A few guys hit on them; some figured out they were transvestites and some just thought they were girls, but the girls weren’t interested. They just wanted to have fun together.
The day finished with them riding the attractions at Luna Park and they caught the ferry back to Circular Quay licking icecreams. They got a cab back to Kings Cross and after a drink at the bar, they went to their own rooms to shave, freshen up their makeup and get ready for another night on the town.
Michele picked up the house phone in her room; she was freshly showered, shaved, gaffed and made up and had her breast forms on. She was wearing a red satin bra and panty set and sheer-to-the-waist nude pantyhose.
“I’d like to speak to Rod Latham, please,” she said into the handset.
She knew that Rod and Knocker were staying at the Chevron too.
Rod picked up the phone.
“Rod, it’s Michele. I want to read you something,” Michele said.
“Sure,” Rod was nonplussed.
Michele had never contacted him ashore before.
“'The ‘Queen of the Cross’ and Australia's first widely known transgender person, Sarina, headlines the world-famous all-female impersonator revue at Les Girls nightclub',” she read off the pamphlet.
“So?” he replied, still confused.
“I want to see it. It’s just up the road at the intersection right next to the El Alamein Fountain,” Michele said.
“I want you to put on a suit and chaperone me,” Michele said.
“Well, of course! Whatever the queen wants, the queen gets!” Rod replied.
“Don’t be a dick, Rod. You’ll like it. I’ll meet you in the foyer at ten o’clock; shows start late,” Michele explained.
“Yes, your majesty,” Rod replied sarcastically.
“Rod?” Michele spoke into the mouthpiece.
“Yes?” he replied.
“Go fuck yourself!” Michele said sardonically and put down the handpiece.
They met in the foyer, Michele resplendent in a blue sequined sheath dress split at the side up to her hips, blue suede high-heels, a blonde bob, heavy makeup and accessorised with silver jewellery.
Rod was decked out in a black tuxedo and looked very handsome. They made quite the elegant couple as they walked the couple of blocks to Les Girls on the corner of Darlinghurst Road. They paid an exorbitant entry fee and seated themselves at a table for two near the front of the theatre nightclub.
Michele was mesmerised by the whole show. The elegant beautiful transvestites clad in a variety of spectacular costumes sang and danced the evening away. Sure, some of the songs were mimed but some of the girls could really sing too. They were so realistically feminine, a far cry from some of Kai Tais and Beanies in Asia.
“Fuck me, Michele; that’s the longest you’ve ever shut up for, for as long as I’ve known you,” Rod chided her.
Michele kicked his shin under the table.
“Ow!” Rod whined.
“Oh, shut up! Oh my god, here comes Sarina!” Michele gushed and beckoned the star of the show over.
Sarina pulled up a chair and Michele was amazed at how stunning and confident the beautiful transsexual was. She looked a little like Marilyn Monroe up close. Sarina spoke with a feminine but smoky voice and she introduced herself and asked how they liked the show.
“It was amazing!” Michele gushed.
“Oh, you’re a Pom? Well, I won’t hold that against you, darling. My god, you’re beautiful enough to be in my show!” Sarina laughed.
“Rod, don’t just sit there like a shag on a rock; go and get us some champagne,” Michele ordered her escort who raised his eyes but walked off to the bar.
The two women were instantly attracted to each other and nattered away for ages while Rod sat at the bar smoking, watching the two gorgeous trans women and thinking carnal thoughts about them.
Sarina explained how she had met Lee Gordon and began working as a showgirl in Kings Cross and how Lee had taken a trip to Paris where he discovered a revue featuring an all-male cross-dressing cast. He decided to bring the concept back to Australia and launched Les Girls with Sarina as the star.
She was also upfront about having sexual reassignment surgery and answered Michele’s questions candidly.
“Well, you gorgeous little Pommy tranny, I’d like to stay and natter all night but I’ve got to get ready for my next show,” Sarina leaned down and hugged Michele and kissed her on the cheek.
“Your man has been very patient with us; you should reward him appropriately,” Sarina gave Michele a mischievous wink.
Michele and Rod walked back to the Chevron Hotel. Ron had his arm around Michele and she leaned against him as it was quite cool.
It was a little awkward when they disentangled to get in the lift and Michele held her clutch purse in front of her and stared at her feet as the elevator ascended.
At the door to Michele’s suite, Rod paused and pulled Michele to him.
Michele turned her face so that his kiss landed on her cheek and Rod blushed with embarrassment.
He turned her face to his.
“I was sort of hoping, you know?” he smiled at her.
“What?” Michele was being deliberately naive.
“Michele, my dick is as hard as algebra.”
Michele gently pushed him away.
“Come on, Rod; you know I don’t mix business and pleasure,” Michele smiled coyly.
She kissed him on the cheek and he turned and started to walk away, head bowed.
Michele called after him
“Of course there are always exceptions,” she smiled at him.
Rod beamed and skipped back along the corridor.
“Don’t get too excited; it’s only a nightcap,” Michele said turning to unlock the door.
Michele had forgotten to leave any of the lights on and the room was dark. Michele entered the room and stumbled over a heavy leather-bound pouf and fell to the floor scattering her clutch and losing her high heels.
Rod entered the room and found the light switch and closed the door.
“Are you okay?” He went over to help Michele who was sprawled on the carpet.
Michele slid a red suede high-heel over her stockinged foot, her painted toenails visible through the reinforced toes of her pantyhose. The silver anklet around her left ankle sparkled as it reflected the light. Michele got to her feet and leaned against Rod to steady herself whilst she put on her other shoe. Michele heard him gasp as he wantonly ogled her. The split side of her dress exposed her sheer-hosed legs right up to the top of her thigh and a glimpse of red satin panty.
"Christ you look good tonight, Michele,” Rod smiled at her.
“Help me over to where I can lean on something; I think I’ve sprained my ankle,” Michele winced.
He eased Michele over to the wall and pressed his full weight against her. Michele could feel his hot breath on her neck. Rod pressed against her; her back was pushed hard against the hotel room wall. Rod was breathing into her ear, his breath quickening.
Michele felt the groan in the back of his throat and heat from his body as he lowered his lips to hers. He kept his lips locked on Michele’s and she felt him slowly start to rub himself against her, his member thickening in his trousers and pushing against her lower body. Rod's hands came up and pressed her arms tight against her body in a vise-like grip as he continued to kiss her.
Michele shook her head and broke the kiss.
“Rod. I’m not sure I want this,” she whispered.
“Sure you do,” he replied.
Michele tried to open her mouth to protest and he slid his tongue into her mouth and passionately kissed her. Michele resigned herself; she had sort of led Rod on and she sort of did fancy him. Rod slid his hand between their bodies, still kissing Michele and pinning her against the hard wall. He fumbled around; Michele knew what he was doing, and then she heard the rasp as he opened his zipper.
His hard penis leapt free and Michele felt the hard hot texture of it as it came to rest against the material of her dress. Rod groaned again and pushed her harder against the wall; he pulled her face and lips hard against his; his free hand slid up her right thigh, his fingers whispering on the nylon of her hose.
Michele wriggled against him in a pathetically vain attempt to fight him off. Rod just pulled her face back to his and carried on kissing her, thrusting his tongue over her lipsticked lips and deep into her mouth. His hand seized the hem of her dress and wrenched it up; as he did so he adjusted his stance so that his hard hot penis pressed between her nylon-encased thighs.
Rod groaned again and began to rub his engorged member in the crevice of Michele’s pantyhosed thighs. His hands sought her behind, taking one buttock in each of his big strong hands and squeezing as his cock nestled into the 'Y' shaped silken valley created by her hosed thighs and red satin panties. Rod pushed his phallus in and out of this silken trap, his cock pressing further between her legs with each thrust.
Michele gasped. She reached between their bodies and tore away her gaff to free her own penis.
Rod lifted Michele upwards so that her body slid up the wall and her feet lifted off the floor; she opened her legs for him.
Rod pressed his groin into her and Michele felt his turgid penis throbbing against the satin crotch of her panties. He adjusted his position slightly and Michele felt his cock begin to slide under the crotch of her panties and push against the sheer nylon gusset of her pantyhose.
Rod was panting with excitement and exertion and he kissed her hotly on her lips and face.
"Michele, you're so lovely!" he moaned,
Michele moved her hands from his chest and wrapped them around his neck and slid her nyloned calves around his waist.
Rod was kissing her hard, his tongue assaulting her mouth. His rampant phallus slid back and forth, snug between the nylon of her pantyhose and satin panties. He picked up the pace and pushed his cock harder into the crevice between her buttocks. He settled into a steady rhythm as he dry-humped her, his pelvis thrusting back and forth as he pleasured himself. Michele hung on to him and responded to his kisses and pushed her buttocks against him to increase his pleasure.
Suddenly Rod slammed her against the wall and thrust forward and upwards with all his strength. Michele felt the glans of his member push firmly against the nylon of her hose and then felt the thin gauzy material stretch and finally give. His rock-hard penis nestled in the bud of her sphincter and began to shoot hot spurts of semen. The warm slick liquid lubricated her puckered bud and his cock slid deep inside her, pulsing and spewing streams of his seed into her back passage. Rod's tongue slavered in her mouth and Michele responded as she felt an uncontrollable wave of pleasure wash over her.
The head of Rod's penis was pushing hard against her prostate, his pulsing rampant flesh shooting hot jets of semen inside her causing her to orgasm spontaneously. Michele emptied her seed into her silky pantyhose and satin panties as Rod's crotch pushed the filmy material against her scrotum, increasing the wonderful sensations.
Rod thrust her hard against the wall as he emptied himself inside her; Michele groaned and pushed back against him. Rod shuddered and moaned as torrents of semen spewed from his member and dribbled out of Michele anus and pooled in her panties.
As their orgasms subsided Rod eased her slowly to the ground and Michele tottered on her high heels and held on to him, the last of their kisses becoming softer and tender until Michele was standing on her shaking legs, her back against the wall for support. Rod adjusted himself and zipped up. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss on her cheek.
“Come on, honey; let’s get you over to the bed,” he whispered.
Rod lifted Michele into his arms and she wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled him as he carried her over to the bed. He helped her take off her heels and squeeze out of the sheath dress. He left her clad in panties, bra and hose and pulled the covers over her.
“Thanks, Rod,” she smiled at him.
Rod smiled back and when Michele waved her fingers over towards the dresser he knew what she wanted and brought her over a gin and tonic and lit her a cigarette.
He sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at the pretty transvestite with the smeared lipstick.
“You really behave like a queen sometimes, you know,” Rod grinned at her.
“La principessa,” Michele smiled dreamily back at him.
“What?” Rod looked confused.
“Never mind,” Michele yawned.
“Okay, Princess; good night,” he reached down and kissed her nose and attempted to rise.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Michele pulled at his lapel.
She released him and pulled back the covers on the other side of the bed and patted the sheets.
In the early hours of the morning as they were drifting off to sleep, Michele mumbled.
“I liked Les Girls. I liked Sarina. I wanna be Sarina,” she smiled dreamily.
Rod pulled her close and wrapped Michele in his arms and they drifted away.
