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So I practiced walking around, making sure to take short steps and tryingto manage my heels. I practiced sitting, making sure to smooth my skirtunder me, to keep my knees together, legs to the side, my hands togetherin my lap. I tried crossing my legs when I sat, which I found to be alittle harder, but it felt so feminine to be sitting there, my nylon cladlegs crossed at the knee under my pretty skirt, my silky slip under myskirt, my pretty three inch heels dangling there.I've always watched the way girls move and act and was trying my best tomatch what and how I thought a girl should move and act.I stood in front of the mirror practicing my hand gestures. Girls talkedmuch more with their hands than boys and were more expressive about howthey felt and what they wanted to say.I walked around the house for probably the next hour trying to trainmyself to move and act like a girl and I was loving it. I grabbed mypurse with the short strap and put it over my arm and held it at theelbow. ” I yelled. They cheered now, and I knew I had them. There were twelve, led by the hunky football captain. He would have to wait. I had a promise to keep. I wiggled my finger at him. He shuffled towards me, red faced. “Now this naughty boy has fucked me before,” I said, loud enough so they could all hear. “So, as he is a retuning customer, he gets a blow job to kick things off!” I sucked his cock, keeping a grip on the shafts base, holding back his urge to come. He had more control this time. I took it gently, trying to ensure his lasting pleasure. “Come on Chris,” his mates called. “Oh for fuck sake, you going to take all night!” He lasted, lasted as my tongue licked his hard cock, his balls. I felt his cock throb. He’s done well. Lasted. I let him come. He tasted only slightly salty. I caught it all, then opened my mouth, so his mates could see, then swallowed, again showing my now empty mouth. I smiled at him. “You did well sweetie!” He was pleased, I could tell. His coming.
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