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Jo, Shemale Goddess! 2

Jo chuckled as the man in the sharp business suit looked hastily away when she looked up and caught him staring at her legs again.  Her ‘Rupaul' legs as men with a history of watching men dressed as women called them, or her ‘Naomi' legs as the newer ones to the scene seemed to think.  Both divas had fabulous legs.  Jo didn't mind being compared to either.  And it was much more flattering than being compared to someone with tree trunk legs.

She had never seen the man in the bar before.  She would have remembered someone of his height.  And if he had accidentally wandered into The Pink Panther Bar thinking, as some people did, that it was a reference to the movie, he wouldn't have stayed if he wasn't curious or looking for some action.  Picking up her glass of Shiraz she sauntered over and introduced herself, "Hey, big boy.  I'm Jo."

"Hi Jo.  I'm Alan."  The man flushed as he stood up and pulled out the empty chair at his table and seated Jo.  "You're probably wondering why I was staring at you earlier, but you're so beautiful I couldn't help myself.  Are you a model?"

"No, I'm a stylist.  I work for Eboneé at the moment."

"You know Eboneé!  Wow!  She's a great singer, but so underrated because she's not good looking.  She needs a makeov-," Alan stopped abruptly as he realized his faux pas.  "I mean..."

Jo decided to take pity on the floundering man.  "I know what you mean.  If she looked like Rihanna or Beyoncé, she would sell ten times as many albums."

"It really shouldn't matter what she looks like," Alan sympathized.  "It should be about her voice.  Things have changed so much in the last ten years.  Actresses model, models act, singers act and model...the world has gone a little crazy."

"I admire Eboneé for not changing her look."  Jo defended her employer even though she'd had dreams of making the singer into a Black Lady Gaga when she had first become her stylist, but she had soon realized that the singer was not comfortable in fussy outfits.

"In interviews she comes across as such a lovely person."  Alan still seemed to feel the need to make up for nearly putting his foot in his mouth.  "She must be a great employer to work for."

"She's a sweetheart!" Jo readily confirmed.

Eboneé was polite and considerate of her staff.  Wherever she went she introduced Jo as her stylist-which really wasn't a recommendation.  No other celebrity had ever tried to poach Jo, but she consoled herself with the fact that she was well paid.  And thank God really that Eboneé was not a diva!  Jo was known to have her diva moments and two divas in the same room would have been asking for trouble.

Shorter than average, Eboneé was not slim or overweight.  She was just broad and flat, her waist almost the same size as her narrow hips.  Her breasts and behind were both boyishly small.  Jo sometimes wondered if Eboneé realized her stylist had a cock.  The woman undressed in front of her without embarrassment and Jo sometimes found herself getting hard as she watched Eboneé's straight little body.  She wondered what the singer would do if she bent the woman over, whipped her cock out and gave her the ass fucking of her young life.

"So you must meet a lot of celebrities then," Alan inquired, bringing Jo's thoughts back to the present.

"Not many.  Eboneé's more likely to go to see a play, the ballet or the opera rather than go clubbing on a Saturday night."

"I read somewhere that she'd already been accepted at Cambridge when she was discovered.  I wondered if it was just a publicity stunt."

"No, it's true.  She was going to study Art History.  She's an art connoisseur.  I could learn a lot from her if I liked that sort of thing."

"So what sort of thing do you like?" Alan queried, his grey eyes lighting up behind the lens of his designer glasses as though he expected Jo to give him a naughty answer.

"I like fashion-the glamour, the jewellery, the celebrities, all of it."

"You look like a celebrity yourself," Alan complimented. "And I've never seen such gorgeous legs on anyone before."

"Alan, have you ever slept with another man?" Jo asked bluntly.  She knew that she passed as a woman to the untrained eye.  Alan seemed a little naïve.  Strange as it would be, he might have actually thought that he had stumbled across a real woman in a gay bar.  Jo was horny, she had come to pick up someone for the night.  If Alan wasn't a possible candidate she didn't want to waste too much time on him.

Though the thought of turning a novice out was making her even hornier.

"I've been curious for a long time," Alan admitted, flushing with embarrassment.  "I came here tonight just to hang out and get the vibe of the place, but once I saw you...."

"You've hung out, now let's get a taxi to my place and I'll show you my  vibes."

Alan quickly downed his drink and let Jo lead him by the hand out of the club.

They were in luck.  Fred, one of the taxi drivers who worked exclusively for the club, was parked in front of the club waiting.  He was a father figure to the younger guys, getting them home safely when they had drunk too much or didn't have the full fare.  A gay basher had killed Fred's youngest son at the age of twenty and the welfare of young gay men had become his number one concern since he'd retired two years ago.  He stepped out of the taxi and scrutinized Alan from head to toe.

"Son, do you know this man well enough to be going anywhere with him?"

Jo laughed, even wearing a micro mini and five-inch heels, Fred called her ‘son'.  Luckily she hadn't lied to Alan or Fred would have given the game away.

"Fred, meet Alan, my new friend."

Fred shook Alan's hand.  Jo smiled secretly as she saw Alan wince-Fred acted as though all strangers who slept with gay men were potential killers and gave them the third degree and a silent, ‘I've got my beady eye on you' warning.  If Alan had planned anything shady he would be rethinking it right about now.

"So where are you two boys off to?" Fred stepped back, reassured that Alan had received his message loud and clear.

"We're going to my flat, Fred.  Step on the gas!"

Fred gave Alan one more flint-eyed stare before he unlocked the doors and let them into the taxi.

Alan was so unnerved by Fred, when Jo tried to kiss him, he hastily checked to see if the driver was watching them.

"Forget about Fred," Jo instructed, rubbing her hand over the fat bulge of Alan's groin.  "He's paying attention to the road-you pay attention to me."

Alan relaxed a bit and kissed Jo back when she tried again, but she sensed that he wasn't going to loosen up until they got to the privacy of her flat.

"So, what do you do for a living, Fred?" Jo asked, finally peeling her lips off his.  She was so horny she had hoped to have them both primed by the time they got to her flat, but Alan was too uptight with Fred in such close proximity.

He'd better be worth her restraint!

"I work for the BBC-one of those photographers behind the scenes that no one sees."

"Wow!  That must be exciting!"

"It can be.  You get used to it after a while.  Well, you get used to most of it.  I still get star struck when I meet famous people sometimes and I still get effected when people are hurt or killed, especially children."

"I worked as a stylist for GMTV about four years ago," Jo told him.  "The money was great, but I only lasted three weeks.  The early hours cramped my style.  I used to party all night, get home, have a shower and get dressed for work.  I would have been dead if I hadn't quit the job."

"So how did you meet Eboneé?"

"I was doing hair and makeup for a diva called Amanda Trent-Manda, she called herself-who got through the second round of X-Factor and started acting like she'd won the show.  Her voice wasn't all that but she knew how to work the crowd.  She would have gone further if she hadn't sung ‘Hero' and forgotten that she wasn't Mariah!  Simon loved her because she was a real drama queen and was good for the rating. He would have given her another chance if she had chosen a less popular song to massacre.  Eboneé sang ‘Chrysalis' on the same show.  I had to do her makeup because her stylist got caught in a traffic jam on the M25.  Eboneé liked the fact that I kept her makeup simple.  She told me that her stylist used to do whatever she wanted and never turned up on time for anything.  Eboneé is one of those always-early celebrities.  She fired the woman and hired me the same day."

"I'd love to meet her in person."

From the eagerness in his voice Jo sensed that Alan was one of those people who truly appreciated Eboneé's prestigious talent.  He would arrange an introduction, she decided, if Alan proved satisfactory in bed. 

"She's in Antigua at the moment writing songs for her next album, staying at some place called Jumby Bay," Jo told the man, opening the buttons of his jacket and stroking his chest through his high-quality cotton shirt.  "She asked me if I wanted to come out with her for a week or two, all expenses paid.  I said yes until she told me that the hotel is some sort of retreat, cut off from the outside world with no phones or TV.  Apparently people use it when they are burned out or need to generate fresh ideas.  Not my cup of tea, thank you very much!"

"One of our travel reporters spent a week there two years ago.  She had a great time, she said, but wouldn't have wanted to spend more than a week there or she would have gone quietly insane.  She said it gave her too much time to think!"

"I would have gone crazy in less than a day!" Jo said with a theatrical shudder. "I can't stand being idle.  Here we are!"

As Fred pulled up to the kerb Jo was pleased to see Alan reach for his wallet.  There was nothing she hated more than a tight-fisted man.  Smiling, she put her hand over his and prevented him opening the wallet.  "I'll get it."

She intended to get more than her money's worth out of Alan later.  It had been ages since she'd gotten her hands on a ‘virgin'.

Alan stood back awkwardly as she went to the front of the taxi to give Fred two folded ten-pound notes and give him a goodnight kiss on the cheek.  Fred slipped the notes into his pocket without looking at them and warned, "Be careful now," before driving away.

Jo felt her cock stir as she turned around and looked at Alan standing nervously holding his laptop case.  Closing the gap between them and taking his free hand in hers, she promised, "Relax, I'm not going to bite you...too hard."

Alan laughed and tightened his fingers around hers as they strode to the entry door of the three-storey, six flat building.  Jo sometimes took the lift to her second floor flat, but tonight she opted for the stairs to give Alan a view of her shapely ass as she mounted the steps ahead of him.  She was rather proud of her back view but too few men took the time to appreciate it.  They were usually too busy checking out her curly dark hair, her slanting brown eyes, her small nose and her full lips.  Her features puzzled most people until she explained that her mother was Jamaican and her father Chinese.  Then they wanted to know more about the unusual pairing-it was usually a Black man and a Chinese woman, except perhaps decades ago when the trend was popular in the USA when there were fewer Chinese women than men there.

Jo's parents were very unusual. If they weren't married, she would have thought that her father was gay and her mother a lesbian.  Her mother, a sculptor, was an inch shorter than her father at five foot five and definitely wore the trousers in the relationship.  She looked like a slightly younger Grace Jones with her cropped hair, and high cheekbones and full lips which Jo had inherited.  She worked out regularly and had the kind of physique some men would give their eye teeth for.  Jo's father, a portrait artist, was slender, more pretty than handsome and wore his shoulder-length hair in a glossy ponytail.  The two of them made a striking couple and had created an equally striking child.

If Jo had been born a woman she would have been graced the covers of top fashion magazines.  She had done some modelling in her late teens, but had been fired after a few of the female models had objected to her sharing their dressing room at a fashion show.  She hadn't been interested in the models, not really, but so much naked female flesh and lovely pert breasts on display had given her strange stirrings in her nether regions.  One model had spotted Jo's hardening cock and had screamed as though it had been a snake.  Jo was quite sure that the skinny bitch had seen one before, but since there had also been three under-sixteen models in the same show, the designer had had no choice but to fire Jo and her unruly teenage hormones.


"Right, take off your suit and I'll put it on a hanger so it doesn't get creased," Jo instructed as she opened her front door, turned on the light and punched in the security code into the alarm panel simultaneously.  "I haven't had a fuck in ages, so I don't want to beat around the bush."

By the time she had nipped into her bedroom for a wooden suit hanger Alan had obediently slipped off his jacket and kicked off his shoes. As soon as he had unzipped his trousers and stepped out of them Jo draped the suit over the hanger and hooked it onto her coat rack.

Alan wasn't one of those men who looked sexy in shirttails and socks.  His pasty legs looked as though they had never seen the sun and were only lightly covered with fine dark hair.  Jo preferred rugged, hairy alpha males, but every now and then it was nice to get hold of a beta and have her wicked way with him.

She smiled as she moved her waist-length hair off her nape and turned for him to unzip her.  She could have done it herself, but she liked being unwrapped by a man like a gift.  As the dress slithered to the floor, Alan surprised her by wrapping his right arm around her waist and pulling her back against him as he reached his left hand down to stroke her hard cock.

"I can't wait to suck on this," he groaned, burying his lips against her neck and covering it with tiny love bites as he humped himself against her.

Jo laughed.  He was a rather eager ‘virgin'.  It looked like he was going to be more fun than she'd anticipated.

"Then why wait?"  Turning around Jo met his lips as she moved backwards until she felt the edge of the sofa against her calves.

Without breaking the kiss, she lowered herself onto the cool leather and pulled Alan down to his knees in front of her.

His light eyes darkened to gunmetal as he stroked her through her black man-thongs.  They weren't as sexy as some of the others in her lingerie collection, but for comfort and dependability they were hard to beat.  Older and less a slave to fashion than in her youth she now acknowledged that she needed to wear something more substantial than a scrap of lace or silk, if she didn't want to be constantly running to the ladies on a night out, to slip her spilled cock and balls back into her panties.

Alan reached under the soft stretch cotton and Jo groaned appreciatively as his warm, slightly calloused hands closed around her cock.  He brought it out into the open and it reared between them as he let it go to sit back and admire it for a moment.

"You're so built," he said as he clasped it once again.

He caught Jo's gaze briefly before he moistened his lips, lowered his head and took the tip between his lips.

It was only then he seemed to realize that he was still wearing his glasses.  As he reached up to take them off, Jo stopped him.  "Leave them on, so that you can see what you're doing.  I like the idea of getting head from a guy with glasses."

Alan quickly wet his lips again and got back to business, taking more than half the length of Jo's cock into his mouth.  Jo sat back, propped up on her elbows, and watched him.   This wasn't going to be a deep-throat session, she accepted, as Alan moved back up to the tip and ran his tongue over the head of her cock, but he was doing better than any of her first timers.

"Are you sure you haven't done this before?" she asked him as he sucked one of her balls into his mouth.

"I watch a lot of porn," Alan admitted as he gave her balls one last lick and then wet two fingers in his mouth.

Jo tilted herself upwards as he circled her asshole with the fingers teasingly before sliding them inside her.  He must watch some quality porn, she thought.  He knew exactly what to do.

"You like that tight ass, don't you?" Jo asked him as he started to work his fingers in and out of her with enthusiasm.  "I might let you have some of it later, but for now get back to sucking on my cock.  Let's see if you'll like your first taste of cum."

Alan kept his fingers buried inside her as he slowly ran his tongue up the length of her cock, starting at the base.  She caught his dilated gaze again before he lowered his head and took her into his mouth.  The man was seriously enjoying giving her head!

"That's deep enough for a start," she warned and cupped his ears to stop him as he made as if to deep throat her.  She wasn't into men vomiting over her.  But even if she was, she wouldn't have it done at her pristine flat when she would be the one to clean up the mess after them.  "Take it slowly for now.  In a couple of months you will be sucking cock like a pro."

Alan kept slowly thrusting his fingers in and out of her ass as he gave her head, and soon he found a rhythm that had Jo groaning and clutching the cushions.  When she lifted her hips off the chair and started to frantically fuck Alan's mouth, he relaxed and let her have her way.  Seconds later, he got his promised first taste of cum and seem to like it very much, swallowing what he managed to catch and scooping up stray drops with his fingers and licking them off enthusiastically.

"Did I say a couple of  months?" Jo asked lifting her head to smile at him.  "You're going to make an excellent cock sucker in less than a week at this rate."

Alan flushed with pleasure at her compliment as he stood up and took off his shirt and glasses.

"Now, let me have a look at you,"  Jo sat up and hauled him closer.  She pulled his cock through the fly of his boxers and groaned inwardly in disappointment.  It was smaller than hers.  She had hoped that he would be one of those lanky men with thick cocks to their knees.  She had been so looking forward to having her ass crammed to overflowing with hard cock.

Oh well, she thought as she took him into her mouth, at least she could look forward to some ass cherry later.

"Fuck!  You're good," Alan gasped as she expertly swallowed him minutes later.

Jo didn't stop to thank him for his kind words.  She was already hard thinking about his little virgin asshole.  There was no time to waste on pleasantries.


"Relax for me again," Jo instructed as she held herself still and waited until Alan obeyed her request before rotating her hips and getting a further half an inch inside him.  She was glad that she had come earlier and taken the edge off.  She now had the patience to enjoy Alan's slow initiation to the ass-fucking community.

Alan wasn't as tight as he was nervous.  He kept clenching his asshole and impeding Jo's progress.  She didn't want to tear anything and put him off because she was rather enjoying his moans and groans and wanted to have another go at his tight ass before she made him breakfast and sent him on his merry way in the morning.

She had decided not to let him fuck her.  Later in the day, after a good rest and a long soak surrounded by scented candles and music from her iPod deck, she would get into bed with Willy, her dildo.  It was a monster and aptly named after the owner of The Pink Panther, Emmanuel Foxton, who had given Jo her first taste of big cock, and had hooked her ever since.  There were times she needed to be filled deeply and satisfyingly, the way only he had filled her and this was one of those occasions.  Emmanuel had fucked around, had fucked both Jo and her best friend Ricki one after the other or in tandem on occasion, but he had been tamed by a pretty man-boy, Nathan and was now totally committed to the young man who was his fantasy come true.  The nearest Jo got to Emmanuel's cock now was Willy, the dildo.

"Do you want me to stop?" she asked Alan, dismissing thoughts of Willy and focusing on the man's small pale ass cheeks, which like his legs didn't appear to have ever seen the sun.

"No!" Alan quickly protested, as Jo knew he would.

"Then relax and let me fuck you properly," she demanded.  "Or do you want me to ram my cock down your throat and give you another mouthful of cum?"

"Your cock so big I'm scared."

"If you relax and let me handle this, you will be enjoying the full length of my sweet cock in minutes."  Jo reached for the tube of lubricant and applied several dollops to the portion of her cock outside of Alan and to his asshole.  "Now relax and I will slide right inside you like a greased pole."

Spreading her legs she pressed inwards and with several shimmies of her hips she was buried to the hilt.

"Fuck!  Oh fuck!"  Alan moaned as she withdrew and quickly slid back into him.

"I'm sure that you thought you'd be fucking my ass when you got here tonight."  Jo laughed as she hammered him with half a dozen quick thrusts.  "Never mess with a chick with a dick."


The next evening Jo was relaxing at the bar, chatting to Emmanuel.  At forty-seven, he still looked good enough to eat.  He had developed a slight paunch now that he didn't work out as hard or as regularly as he'd done when Jo had first met him, but according to Nathan, his cock was still as lethal as ever.  Jo looked to him as something of a father figure now.  He advised her on savings and investments and had been the one to give her the deposit when developers working in partnership with the government had converted an old primary school into the six luxury flats for first-time buyers.  Jo hadn't particularly  wanted to be burdened with a mortgage at twenty-three, but she could have hardly refused when Emmanuel had not only paid the deposit but told her that he would help if she was ever short and couldn't meet her monthly mortgage repayments.  She knew that he felt guilty for dropping her so abruptly when he met Nathan, especially since he had been only her third lover; Ricki had had Jo earlier the same night so he was technically her second.  Jo hadn't been devastated at being dropped, perhaps because she had always shared Emmanuel with Ricki, but she still missed him sometimes and the thought of her  first time with him still gave her goose bumps.   Yes, she was now like a daughter to him, but she would not be opposed to giving him her ass any day of the week, or minute of the day for that matter.

"So, how was he?"  Emmanuel teased.

"He?" Jo responded, pretending that she had no idea whom he meant.  She didn't know how he did it, but Emmanuel seemed to know everything that went on in his club.  He had been talking to a Lib Dem MP, a regular at the club, when Jo had left the previous night.  She had tried to catch his eye to let him know that she was leaving but he'd been too engrossed in conversation to notice.

"Alan," Emmanuel supplied.

"You know him?" she asked in surprise.

"He's been here once or twice before."

"I've never seen him before last night."

"Simone was laughing after you two left together.  She said that she hoped he didn't pretend to be a virgin again."

"A virgin?" Jo repeated blankly.

"Apparently he's married and lives somewhere in Chelsea. Simone said that she fucked him in the gents right here one night-I told her off for lowering the tone of my establishment-and was bragging about it with a couple of friends a few weeks later when one of them said that Alan had been fucked by all of Chelsea and Kensington, so he had to now come slumming in the East End."

"The sneaky bastard!" Jo laughed.  She'd been well and truly fooled.

She hadn't planned on seeing Alan again.  As a one-off he had been okay, but she had been pleased that he hadn't asked for her number or a repeat ass-fucking because he wasn't quite her type.  But, if she ever got her hands on him again his tight ass would be hers!  She would take the greatest pleasure in ramming her hard cock into his ass until it was so sore he would beg her to stop.

Perhaps not, she acknowledged ruefully, but she would definitely fuck him hard and deeply, knowing that his ‘virginal' ass had been plundered by several cocks before hers.


© Lexy Harper 2011