She changed and came out without buttoning the shirt. It was buttoned half way anyways. I could see her blue push up bra from there. I had no intention of having sex with her. I buttoned her up and told her to sleep in the bed. I laid her down. And went to my sofa and started working on some office files along with a scotch. She was sleeping. And i could sense her aroma all over the house. It was too arousing. My mind wanted to have her. Take her in my arms and squish those pretty boobs over and over. But my heart didn’t have any intention to do that to her. She was a girl after all? And i couldn’t just do it. I had some principles. At least my mind had. So i let that night go. And i slept there on the sofa.The next morning she shrieked out to find herself in a guy’s dress at a room and when i explained everything to her. She was too out of words in my ‘gentleman-ism’ and hugged me. More tightly than the last time. Pecked my lips and said, “Darling. That’s the sweetest thing that has. He slipped one in and out of her in an uncomfortable parody of what he would shortly be doing to her with his penis. Satisfied with her state of arousal, he pressed the broad head to her small opening and shoved. She squeaked into the pillow, a muted sound he usually took for pleasure, and squeezed her eyes shut. The tears leaked past her clenched lids, staining the soft pillowcase with their salty worthlessness. After a few moments of his thrusting, her body adjusted and provided the lubrication it needed to keep from tearing. The bed creaked and squealed with his thoughtless humping. She rubbed her face on the pillowcase, hiding the evidence of her pain, and moaned as he liked her to. Wiggling her rear, she forced herself onto her hands and knees. He gripped her hips, gently for once, and stroked in and out of her. She rocked back against him, gyrating her body as an experienced whore might. Rehearsed pants and moans fell from her like the lies of his love that he professed to her.
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