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Remembering Ashley - Part 1 (M-CD/M/Group/Drug/Rape)

CDAshleyFoxx · 1488

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Offline CDAshleyFoxx

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on: December 06, 2019, 07:42:15 PM
Chapter 1

Over the last week Ashland had been trying to distract himself from his thoughts by keeping busy with his hobbies, and today, he was hot and sticky—beginning to breathe heavy from his efforts. His hair was up in a top knot, but there were some stray strands around his temples that were curling from his perspiration—teasing his eye lashes—yet he was locked in position, so he couldn’t push them away. His arms were stretched out in front of him; they were long, lean and toned—pressed to the floor—channeling their tension through his slim back to his hips, which were positioned high in the air. With his toes gripping the floor below him, he pressed his heals to the ground and arched his hips to their limits—releasing the tension along his calves and hamstrings, while spreading his soft, plump butt; he could feel the trapped heat from between his cheeks escape, as he tensed his back and deepened his stretch. He pressed each heal down in alternating succession—lengthening his posterior chain—which caused his hips to sway in a figure eight high in the air. He was breathing deeply now; his hot breath felt stifling in the thick air of the room.

Ashland transitioned with the rest of the hot-yoga class out of downward dog—stepping forward into warrior one. He advanced his position with the other experts in the class into a front split—arching his back, as he stretching his arms to the ceiling—deepening his stretch.

For a moment, his thoughts jumped to a flashing memory of his mom and his twin sister—them all stretching on their mats side by side, and it made him sad. He shook his head, trying to release the intrusive memory and attempted to center his mind on the present.

He lowered his arms from the air to shoulder height—stretching them to his front and rear. He contracted his glutes—carefully rotating his hips, while maintaining his balance, as he transitioned his front splits from one leg in front to his other leg. He had soft, thick thighs for a guy, which cushioned his joints from the hard floor—something his sister and himself inherited from their mother. He also wasn’t graciously endowed, so there wasn’t much junk to be crushed bellow his pelvis. Once again, he arched his back and neck, and he elongated his arms to the ceiling, stretching out his back.

He thought about how good it felt to release the tension in his body, and he appreciated the opportunity to distract himself from the sorrow that he had been experiencing the whole week.

He lowered his arms to the sides of his knee—leaning forward and lowering his torso unto his thigh. He circled that front leg around to the side against his other leg—ending in a prone position—then he came up on his hands—arching his back into cobra then pushed his hips back over his knees—sitting on his heals for child’s pose.

He could feel his clothes were soaked from his perspiration and his body was spent, as the instructor concluded the session. His thin and loose yoga attire clung to his sticky skin. He picked himself off the floor. He gathered his glasses from the head of his mat. He donned the glasses, and at the same time, he swept his perspiring curls over his ears. As he left the yoga studio, he could feel the blood in his swollen, fatigued glutes causing his ass to jiggle as he walked, and his plump cheeks buried the thin material of his pants between his ass, leaving nothing to the imagination, but he didn’t care who saw; he didn’t care about anything lately.

Offline CDAshleyFoxx

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Reply #1 on: December 06, 2019, 07:43:38 PM
Chapter 2

Ashland opened the door to his apartment and immediately saw the flyer on the table by the entrance. In Loving Memory of Ashley Alvares, it read. ‘Shit,’ he thought. ‘Why did I leave that there?’ He lingered over the flyer; he couldn’t help it. He looked down on the flyer—of the picture below the heading—of his beautiful twin sister who had passed the week prior from an accidental overdose on fentanyl. At the young age of twenty-three, this was especially hard on the family.

Ashley and Ashland had always been very close, as most twins are, but more like how identical twins are (finishing each other’s sentences and dressing alike as children), even though they were (of course) fraternal twins. They looked like identical twins, both fair and petite in complexion—a spitting image of their mother. Ashley had long, straight, black hair, and warmly-toned, Portuguese skin. She had large, emerald eyes with strikingly dark brows and full lips. If it wasn’t for the tiny wisp of hair on Ashland’s upper lip and chin, they were hard to differentiate.

Ashland lingered long enough at the photo to build a well of emotion that brought tears to his eyes, but he fought them away with a brush of his shirt from his shoulder and headed to the kitchen. He ate some almonds and a banana to recover from his workout before heading to the shower to wash away the sweat from his body. After cleaning up he donned some oversized, comfy, designer sweats and a loose shirt. He gathered his hair back into a top knot and adjusted his glasses back on his face so he could see.

He decided to go back to his painting, so he could keep his mind occupied. He put on some relaxing music, and he took a position in front of his painting. He sat on his ottoman stool then gathered his legs into a lotus position. He then pulled on his butt cheeks to untuck them from under his body—spreading them apart, so he was seated on his sit bones and able to sit tall. He leaned forward and began to paint. Although the work was distracting, it was too auto-rhythmic for his mind, so it didn’t take long for his thoughts to dwell on his sister.

He recalled the painful phone call he received from his mother. He thought about the months prior to his sister’s death, how she seemed so happy and so stable; there had been no signs she was using drugs, or that she was having problems, so the news came as a great surprise. In fact, she was talking about how secure she felt with her new income, even though she didn’t elaborate on where it came from. They were both starving artists, so any success she was having was great. At least, that is what he thought at the time. In hindsight, he wishes he would have pressed her for more information.

As he continued to add oil to the canvas, he realized how he was going to get closure; he needed more information, so he was going to have to do what he had been avoiding—go to her apartment. Emotionally distraught, yet clearer, he made a plan to visit her apartment that night.

Offline CDAshleyFoxx

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Reply #2 on: December 06, 2019, 07:44:55 PM
Chapter 3

It was late. It took a while to build up the courage.

Ashland unlocked the door slowly to his sister’s apartment, as if bracing for a monster hiding behind the door. He was afraid to enter knowing he could be overwhelmed by the smells and sights of his sister’s possessions that would cause memories to pierce his conscious and flood his body with pain. He took a hard swallow and entered.

As he entered and scanned the room, he was coping well. He walked around the apartment—initially just taking it all in, but then he began searching for clues that might explain what happened to her. Nothing appeared odd or out of the norm; her place was well organized and looked healthy. He saw a bottle of wine in the fridge. ‘I could use some of that,’ he thought, so he poured himself a glass. He went to her bedroom and opened her drawers, but he didn’t see anything odd. He looked at the framed picture on her dresser; it was of his sister in her favorite, oversized sweatshirt, which made him choke up recalling seeing her in it all the time. He scanned her drawers again and found it tucked under some shirts. He picked it up and pressed it to his face—enveloping the scent against his nose. He began to choke up again. ‘If only he could see her again,’ he thought. ‘Just one last time.’ He removed his jacket and put on her sweatshirt and crawled on her bed crying and took a position in a fetal position. He tucked his knees into the front of the sweatshirt just like she use to do, and he hid his chin beneath the neck of the garment.

His glasses were getting foggy from his tears, and they weren’t feeling good against her pillow, so he tossed them at the foot of the bed. After a few minutes of sobbing—feeling the release from excising his emotions—he looked up and saw his reflexion in her mirror, except he didn’t; he saw his sister. From the haze of his less-than-stellar vision, he saw the curled body of his twin sister on her bed. At least, that is what he looked like, and that is when he got an idea.

He was a light-weight and already buzzed from the wine. Mix some overwhelming emotions into the situation and bad ideas are sure to blossom.

Ashland removed his sister’s sweatshirt and went into her bathroom. He looked in the mirror—judging his reflection—creating a plan. He stripped off his clothes and grabbed her razor. He shaved the small amount of whiskers from his lip and chin that brought his face to a smooth finish. He jumped into the shower and quickly shaved what little hair he had on his body—mostly his lower legs, yet he ran the razor over anything that required removal. After the shower, he used one of her hair ties to pull his hair into a pony tail then he donned a thin headband, which secured his hair over his ears.

He didn’t have a clue what he was doing, but he began applying her makeup to his face—occasionally taking a break to drink some wine. First he applied the foundation then some blush to his cheeks. He applied some bold, blue eyeshadow then some mascara, which complemented his large, emerald eyes. Ashland found some fake, long lashes and adhered them to his eyes then he applied some eye liner. As if in a rush, he continued; he applied lip liner then a rose colored lipstick followed by some lip gloss plumper—completing his face.

He looked in the mirror and saw his sister staring back at him. ‘Omg,’ he thought. ‘I look just like her.’ He got emotional, but happy, for in that moment it was clear that he carried her with him and would carry her with him forever.

He wanted to continue, so he went back to her room and found her jewelry. He removed the studs in his ears and donned some of her hooped earrings. He found a diamond studded necklace that read Ashley and secured that around his neck. He slid some of her brackets on his wrists and rings. He put back on her sweatshirt and looked in the mirror. He looked just like her. ‘Astounding,’ he thought. ‘She looks so beautiful. I look so beautiful! Omg, I do!’ As if never realizing how much he looked like his sister, or how fair he looked, Ashland was shocked at the sight in front of him. It was his sister back from the dead, but it was also him looking just as gorgeous as any girl he had ever seen.

His eyes scanned down his body to his pecker just pecking from the bottom of the large sweatshirt then to his smooth, soft, long legs. ‘Hmm, that won’t do’ he thought. ‘How far am I gonna take this?’ Maybe it was the wine more than thoughts of seeing his sister again, but he walked to his sister’s drawers once more. He found her panties in the top drawer. He found a bunch of lacy thongs, recalling that he would see them peak from the top of his sister’s jeans all the time—especially when she bent over. He grabbed a black pair and slid them up his legs then over his hips. He spread his ass by leaning forward, so the material would sit between his cheeks then he tucked his modest package between his legs. He held the sweatshirt up from his hips and admired his reflection—turning around so he could check out his booty. “Wow, my ass is hot,” he said aloud—realizing for the first time how feminine his figure was.

Ashland was fully invested in this adventure. He went to the bathroom and found some of his sister’s nail polish and brought it back to the bed along with a towel. He couldn’t help but sway and curve his hips as he delicately walked on his tip toes around her room; the lingerie and makeup was alerting his persona, and so he began to behave more like his sister too.

He sat cross-legged on her bed and began to paint his nails then his toes in a pearl white. As they dried, his eyes looked upon her closet. He hadn’t looked in there yet. He walked over to the closet and slid open the doors and was immediately shocked by the attire. Her closet was full of slutty outfits. There were short, tight minidresses, and miniskirts and long leather boots. There was sequenced outfits which left little to the imagination. There were 4’’ heals and all different types of lingerie. His mind raced to piece it all together. He didn’t know if his sister was wearing this stuff privately or for some type of work, and if it was for work, was she a stripper, a hooker or an escort? He didn’t know, but this could explain her recent financial improvements and give credence for a potential association with drugs.

Ashland looked through the clothes, trying to find more information. In a pocket of a mid-drift jacket he found a business card of the owner of a strip club twenty miles away on the edge of town. The place would be closed in an hour according to the card. ‘Shit,’ he thought. ‘There is no time to clean off his makeup and change’, and he wanted answers. Was this guy her boss? Did he give her these drugs? He needed to know. Maybe it was the liquor making him feel bold and careless, but he decided to go to the club regardless of how he looked. “Fuck it,” he said allowed. ‘I have to know,’ he convinced himself. He had to hurry.

Ashland rummaged through Ashley’s drawers. He found exactly what he needed. He reasoned her panties weren’t enough to hide his package on their own, so he dropped the lacy thong to his feet and slid on a red, g-string thong—tucking his cock and petite balls in the material—then he pulled back up the black, lacy thong to double up on his package management. She had a strapless bra that was nothing more than some thin, silicone, bra cups with adhesive on the back. Ashland pressed the cups to his pecks and squeezed them together—clasping the bra by its center hook. The bra gave him some modest cleavage, but it wouldn’t be secure enough. He found a black, lacy bra with an integrated, four-inch, waist clincher; it was a mini corset that terminated above his navel. He slipped on the top, adjusting the lacy bra over his cups then he pulled at the laces hanging from his back. It squeezed his ribs tight, shrinking his silhouette and tapering his torso to an hourglass figure. ‘Dam,’ he thought, while looking in the mirror. ‘I look good. This is kinda hot. No wonder girls where this stuff. It kinda feels naughty.’ While he was on a mission of discovery, he was enjoying himself too. He found some tall, black, thigh-high stockings in her drawer. He slid them up his legs; the tops terminated in lace with rubbery bands that kept them in place on his long legs.

He turned his attention back to her closet. He found an electric blue minidress that would be perfect and matched his eyeshadow and highlighted his green eyes. It was a stretchy, sleeveless, midriff dress that terminated three-inches below his ass—somewhat cupping the bottom of his glutes and just barely hiding the tops of his stockings. The midriff section was open in an odd shape like a half-circle—tilted at an angle—that dipped low on his tummy below his waistline—just above the panties. The top cupped his fake breasts and tapered up to his neck—wrapping around his neck like a dropped turtleneck. There was a teardrop, shaped hole in the center, which exposed his little cleavage. His toned arms were long and bare—save for the bracelets on his wrists. He found some black, four-inch, strappy heels and carefully put them on—almost falling a few times in the process.

‘Hmm,’ he thought, while looking at his figure trying to balance in the mirror. ‘Standing in these things isn’t easy. Maybe I should practice walking before I go out, so I don’t fall.’ Ashland began walking the length of the apartment. At first he took small steps, as if he was tip-toeing, but then he found his groove, except for a few, slight twists of his ankle. As his confidence rose and his stride lengthens, he noticed there was a natural need to oscillate his hips and steady his shoulders. With each planting of his foot to the ground, his hip arched up in the air to absorb the impact, and to ease the transition, his hips swayed in a figure eight motion, as his toned stomach stretched and flexed with each stride, all while his ass swished side to side. It felt kinda sexy.

Standing one last time in the mirror, he looked at himself. What he saw was an athletic version of his sister. Their silhouettes were shockingly similar with an inch or so less girth to his hips than hers and a few inches less to his bust, but overall he thought, ‘I’m fucking hot! I would fuck me.’ But something was missing, and although time was fleeting, he panicked that didn’t look like an authentic woman; he needed to accessorize more. He went kind of crazy and found a silver waist-chain and donned that. In her jewelry case he also found a clip-on, dangly, navel ring that he clasped on. He found a thin necklace that complemented the necklace already on his neck; it slid under the other, resting between his cleavage, while the words Ashley sat on the top of his pursed pecs. Lastly, there was an ankle chain he donned as well. He found some body glitter and ran some along his chest and neck then he doused himself in his sister’s vanilla-sugar perfume.

Looking in the mirror one last time, with his hands on his hips and his weight shifted to one hip, he checked out his ensemble. “Fucking amazing!” He was ready. He went to his phone to page an Uber and after, he realized he would need a purse for his keys and phone. He saw some small hand-purses in the closet hanging by their thin straps. He chose a black one with sparkly sequence and opened it up. Inside he found that same business card he found earlier, except this one had a few hundred dollars wrapped around it. He also found several different condoms and a small baggy with two pills. He pulled out the pills thinking these could be what killed his sister, but he quickly recognized them when he saw a Playboy logo on one and a Mitsubishi logo on the other—they were ecstasy pills. “Well these didn’t kill her,” he said aloud, and when he did he realized his voice sounded similar to his sister, but an octave lower.

He spent the better part of ten minutes working on softening and raising his voice, but he realized that talking should be kept to a minimum. It made him nervous, even with him finishing the last of the bottle of wine, and as he heard the Uber honk, and after seeing it out the window, in his panic, he did what he felt was the only thing he could do to get through this night—he took the pills—first chewing up one to get in his system quick then swallowing the other.

Offline CDAshleyFoxx

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Reply #3 on: December 06, 2019, 07:45:49 PM
Chapter 4

Ashland hadn’t said a word the whole time he was in the back of the Uber. He had his head down and to the side—shy and afraid to be ousted as a man in a dress, but after fifteen minutes into the drive, he was starting to feel the effects of the ecstasy on his body.

It was coming on as an energy stirring his insides like a fire being stocked to life. Then he could feel the heat in his body beginning to rise and the hot blood of his core begin to work itself along his limbs. His heart rate was already high with anxiousness, but now it was quickening in intensity. His senses were starting to awaken, as his anxiousness was beginning to subside. His palms were getting hot and moist making him unconsciously begin to rub his hands together. His breath was getting hot, and he couldn’t help but lick his lips. ‘Shit,’ he thought. ‘I’m going to lose my lipstick. Good thing I brought it.’ He reached into his sister’s purse and pulled out some lipstick and the lip plumper. He applied some graciously to his lips, while using his weak reflexion in the window to guide him. He rolled his lips over each other then he pouted them at his reflexion. He was feeling more comfortable in his clothes and in this persona. His feminine gestures were coming more natural now, and he wasn’t hiding his face like before.

“Very lovely,” his driver blurted out.

Ashland was shocked, as if forgetting he was in the company of a strange man, as he sat in the back seat of the dark sedan. He blushed and shyly smiled, and for a moment, he raised his long lashes to make eye contact with the dark driver before retreating his gaze, but the driver was having a hard time keeping his eyes on the road, and Ashland wasn’t making it easy. He was occasionally wiping the dew of sweat that was collecting on his cleavage, and the heat from his body was causing him to continually switch his crossed legs. This was causing his minidress to ride up his legs, not only exposing the top of his stockings, but also his upper thighs; he could feel the back of his thighs sticking to the leather seats, and occasionally the driver was stealing a glimpse of Ashland’s skin. Ashland tried to keep adjusting his dress down, but it was futile. His sweaty palms were alive with sensation, and they adored the feeling of the nylon stockings—uncontrollably causing him to rub and squeeze his thighs.

Then Ashland felt the heat building up inside, and he began rolling hard. He could feel the waves of heat and energy flow through his body, which caused his back to arch and his body to twist in the seat. As he squirmed about, his dress rode up to the top of his thighs; it was just barely clinging at the back to the top of his ass. His relatively bare ass was sticky from perspiration, and it was sticking to the seat, which made him shift his weight off one cheek freeing.

“Are you doing okay back there,” his driver asked? He sounded concerned, but interested— almost aroused—by Ashland’s state, and it was obvious that he was eyeing the curve of Ashland’s ass and thigh.

“Yes, ok,” Ashland mumbled—trying to guard his note. He could feel the perspiration accumulating around the back of his thin neck and edge of his forehead, soaking the wisp of hairs and causing them to curl against his skin. They were almost there.

“Are you sure you want me to drop you off here ma’am? This isn’t a very nice part of town, and you are such a beautiful, young lady,” he kindly stated. Ashland nodded, but generously smiled at the man through the rearview mirror and even returned his complement by angling his ass that much more in his favor.

When he stopped the car across the street from the strip club, Ashland opened the door, and the cooler night air put a sudden and abrupt pause to his rolling. He was fully uninhibited now, and as he exited the car, he didn’t hide his ass from the driver’s eyes. In fact, he made a point to crawl across the seats to the far side of the car; he enjoyed the stares and attention from his driver, and the thought of teasing him seemed all too fun. He stood tall from the car and pulled his minidress back over the curve of his ass and down his thighs. He adjusted the tops of the stockings. He put his arm and head through the strap of the purse and clutched it at his side then closed the door. The driver slowly drove away.

Ashland stood there for a moment on the sidewalk. He looked at the glowing pink sign of the sleazy, strip club and imagined his sister coming here for work; how desperate must she have been to work here. Then he looked at the bouncer escorting some workers back to their cars, and he noticed the people outside the club lingering and talking. It suddenly dawned on him to check his phone for the time, and when he did, he realized the place had been closed for the last ten minutes.

“Fuck!” He had lost track of the time in the back of the Uber, and the distracted driver hadn’t rushed like he hoped he would. He didn’t know what to do. Part of him wanted to walk over to the club and try to get some answers, but the other part of him wanted to go home and give up on his search for answers, yet there was another part of him that wanted to explore the night life. This part of him was being compiled by his drug induced inhibition and desire to connect to others. Plus, he was feeling horny as fuck. The heat from the ecstasy was making his skin glow red with warmth and making his nipples rock hard beneath his bra. His cock and balls felt tight and contracted from the stimulants and that same heat was making his taint and asshole feel noticeably hot.

His craving to mingle was pointing his prospects to the group hanging outside the club. A few hundred feet away was the crosswalk, and he began walking to the light. The drugs were really loosening him up now, and it was easier than ever to walk in the heals. He could feel his strides come with ease, and his hips and ass swayed and swished like any other woman.

Before he reached the corner he heard a large vehicle approach from the rear and a man called ahead, “Ashley!” This caused Ashland to jolt his head around and look intensely, but he kept walking. His vision wasn’t great in general, but it was even worse at night. He squinted to see through the headlights of the large SUV, even putting up a hand over his eyes to block the light. “Ashley! It’s John!” He heard it again, but this time stopped and turned around. As the black Cadillac Escalade pulled up, the driver rolled down the passenger window, and Ashland walked over. “Hey hot stuff! Why didn’t you stop?”

Ashland shrugged his shoulders and tried to not look surprised to see this stranger, for it was obvious this man knew his sister. He was a good looking business man in his mid forties who obvious workout out and took take of himself.

“Wow! You are looking gorgeous tonight! I like the haircut.” Ashland instinctively twirled around to give him a view of everything, as he peaked over the passenger door—his body leaning on the edge of his seat. “I like your hair up. You normally always wear it down, and you look cut girl.” He continued, “Hey, I didn’t see you at the club tonight. You told me last time you would be working and to find you,” he explained.

“Sorry. Something came up,” Ashland mumbled. So it was true; Ashley was working as a stripper at that club. Ashland’s heart was racing, but not from nervousness; the drugs were removing all of that. He was on the verge of discovery.

“Well, what are you doing now? You look lost,” John continued. “You know we never had a chance to *cough* finish that last lap dance like we normally do because we got interrupted, and I could use some company tonight.” He slid his fingers in his pock and flashed a few twenties from the depths of his pants. “Are you free to go for a ride?”

Ashland was contemplating all the innuendos this man was throwing, but he didn’t like uncertainty. He wanted to know exactly what type of relationship his sister had with this man, so he nodded and opened to door and stepped up inside the SUV.

John immediately leaned over for a kiss, which Ashland wasn’t prepared for at all. Ashland pulled back a little, but the man planted his lips directly to Ashland’s. At first Ashland was in shock, unable to move, and Ashland’s lips were stiff, but he quickly recognized the need to maintain appearances, so he relaxed his lips, and as he did, his mouth parted. This was enough of an opening John needed, and Ashland felt this stranger’s tongue slide between his lips. In his mouth, the man found Ashland’s tongue and attempted contact.

Ashland had never kissed a man. He wasn’t gay, but he was able to recognize an attractive man when he saw one, and this older man was attractive with his strong jaw, dark scruff, thick dark hair and blue eyes, but that was where the line was drawn—normally—yet now things were different. Perhaps he was feeling transformed by the dress and by his look and by his new persona, or maybe it was the molly, but he was enjoying the feeling of the man’s tongue on his own. Ashland’s young mouth was hot from the ecstasy, and it was drawing John’s tongue to seek hers out that much more. Ashland slid his tongue across John’s appendage—relished the slick and fine texture against his flesh. Ashland opened his mouth more, leaned back into his partner’s face and kissed him back—enveloping his partner with his plumped lips.

“That was hot,” the man said, after pulling away. “Let’s find someplace private.” With that, he quickly drove down the street.

Ashland’s heart was beating out of his chest. He collected himself the best he could, but the situation and ecstasy wasn’t making it easy. He wiped his mouth and reapplied some lipstick and lip plumper—occasionally smiling back at the stranger who was drooling with desire and lust; he couldn’t keep his eyes on the road and was constantly looking over at Ashland. It kind of made Ashland nervous that he was trying to figure out who the imposter was that was posing as Ashley, but his concerns washed away, as the man pulled into a dark alley, saying, “Dam Ashley! I don’t think I have ever seen you look so gorgeous. You look so fucking hot and sexy! I just want to eat you up.” Ashland blushed hard. “Come on,” he gestured, and he moved to the back bench seats of his SUV. He slid and reclined the seats back—making more room. He plopped himself down in the center—spreading his legs. Ashland looked on from the front seat—questioning the current predicament he was in. How far would this go? Could he even stop it if he wanted?

Offline CDAshleyFoxx

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Reply #4 on: December 06, 2019, 07:46:43 PM
Chapter 5

Ashland just sat there looking at the man.

“What are you waiting for babe?” He reached out for Ashland’s wrist and guided him to the back of the vehicle. Ashland took a seat at the end of the bench and just blankly starred at him, as if he was a deer in the headlights. “Ok fine. I get it,” he said, as he reached into his pocket. He pulled out sixty dollars and held it out in the air at Ashland. “Ashley!” Ashland just stared at it, as if he had never seen money before in his life. “Fuck! Okay, okay!” He reached back into his pocket and produced five twenties this time. “Enough?”

Not wanting to expose himself, Ashland took the money and put it in his purse. As he looked back up, there was John at his face—planting another kiss on his lips. Ashland took the man’s embrace—allowing John to part Ashland’s lips and slide his tongue in Ashland’s mouth. He kissed the man back, and as he did, he felt the man’s hand touch his thigh then slowly move up his leg. Ashland reached out and grabbed the man’s wrist just before his hand slid up the skirt of Ashland’s dress. Ashland used his other hand against John’s shoulder to push him away, causing him to release his grip on Ashland’s lips. John fell back into the seat and wiped the saliva from his mouth. John tugged on Ashland’s wrist and pulled Ashland over to him. “Now it is time for my lap dance,” he said.

He tugged Ashland over—grabbing Ashland’s thigh and pulling Ashland’s leg over his body; he was straddling John’s legs now. Spreading his legs made his tiny cock unbury itself from between his thighs, and his separated balls, which were flagging either side of his small shaft, pulled themselves together. ‘Shit,’ he thought—suddenly feeling exposed. The breeze of the night swept through Ashland’s thighs, wicking away the buildup of heat from within. The cooling effect and the stimulants in his body caused his balls to tighten up like never before. In fact, he could almost feel them retreat inside his body, and his cock shriveled in his panties.

John pulled Ashland’s knees up to his hips—situating Ashland over his pelvis. Ashland sat back on the man’s thighs instinctively. John moved his hands to Ashland’s ass and squeezed his cheeks tight. Ashland would be lying if he said it didn’t feel good. “Umm, that’s it baby,” he moaned. “You feel so good.”

For a moment, Ashland realized the predicament he had gotten himself into. ‘What the fuck am I doing here,’ he asked himself? ‘How am I going to get out of this situation?’ Ashland realized he had all the information he needed. This John was one of Ashley’s Jons—clearly—and Ashley was obviously a stripper and a whore. That was where she got her new income. ‘What else do I need to know? She seemed really happy for once in her life, but was it the drugs or the money?’ Ashland was still undecided, but then John found Ashland’s mouth again and began to kiss him.

Ashland kissed him back, and as he did, he felt John’s hands sliding across his skin—across the top of his outer thighs then under his dress. John moved his large hands—warm with desire—to Ashland’s bare ass, where he gripped the flesh. Maybe it was the kissing; maybe it was his hands on his ass; maybe it was just time, but Ashland felt the heat from the ecstasy building in his body once more. He felt the wave build, as his body began rolling again. This caused Ashland to arch his back and head, which led John to move his mouth from Ashland’s young lips to his neck. John ran his mouth along Ashland’s neck—circling his tongue and hot breath against his flesh.

Ashland was fully engulfed in the sensations, as his body rolled from the ecstasy. He pulled John’s head into his neck—uncontrollably moaning—while he spread his flexible knees wide on the seat, which allowed John’s firm grip to pull Ashland’s ass into his pelvis. As he did, Ashland’s hot taint made contact with John’s large, swollen cock through John’s slacks; he had Ashland’s minidress up around his waste now—exposing Ashland’s ass to the darkness of his SUV, as his hands continue to squeeze and knead Ashland’s booty.

Ashland was initially shocked at the sensation of another man’s hard cock pressed to such an intimate and vulnerable area of his body, but admittedly, in the moment, it felt really good. On Molly, almost anything or anyone can feel good, but this was more than that. It felt good to be desired too. It felt good to know he was arousing and pleasing another person just being himself—well, his sister. Ashland never new his dad, so it felt good to feel small in John’s large hands and on John’s large lap. Maybe it was mostly the Molly, but John’s touch felt electrifying, and Ashland was enjoying every moment—careless and sensuously undulating his body against his partner. Ashland had always been curious about larger cocks, as his was especially petite for a man, so when his taint made contact with a large, thick mass in John’s pants, he couldn’t help but feel a bit curious what John was packing—what it was like to own such a cock.

Ashland rotated his hips and pressed his taint harder against John’s cock making John moan. He looked back down at the lust and pleasure in John’s face and smirked. He bit his own lip to hold in the heat of his breath, as he began to contort his hips—stroking his taint against John’s large cock. John’s eyes were closed, his head was arched back on the seat now and his mouth was gaping open, as he basked in the sensation of Ashland rubbing his cock. Ashland could feel John’s cock getting harder; he could feel it swelling thicker in his pants and the heat between them building. Ashland leaned back, as John still gripped his bubble butt. Ashland undulated his hips in long strokes, running his taint from the tip of John’s cock to John’s balls.

“Oh shit,” Ashland moaned quietly under his breath. The waves of pleasure were passing over his body hard now; he was beginning to roll hard—sometimes spasming or gyrating uncontrollably. He was breathing heavy and his body and hips were starting to contort as the waves passed through his body.

‘I suppose he paid for a lap dance, so he should get a lap dance,’ Ashland figured. He quickly flipped himself around and planted his bubble butt right back on John’s hard-on. Instinctively, John spread his knees, and Ashland’s bare ass fell deeper into John’s pelvis.

Ashland could feel the distinct shape of John’s hard cock now beneath the fabric of John’s pants. It was pressed against Ashland’s bare, bubble butt, which was pursed against John’s thighs. Ashland was engulfed in another wave of heat coursing through his body—rolling hard once more. Ashland leaned forward and pressed his ass back against John’s cock, which caused his cheeks to part and allowed John’s shaft to slip between. Ashland began to undulate his body—twerking his ass against John’s cock—stroking the shaft with his movements.

“Oh fuck yea baby. That feels good,” John moaned. John’s hands were initially around Ashland’s small waist—guiding Ashland’s movements, but then they moved to Ashland’s hips the to his sides, which allowed Ashland the opportunity to freely do his sister’s work. Ashland circled his hips—gyrating up and down—then he spread his legs, which caused his ass cheeks to squeeze John’s cock, which enabled him to stroke John’s cock with his ass, as he arched his flexible hips up and down.

John was getting more and more worked up. Even Ashland was getting worked up too and could feel that his cock was hard, which was just peaking up beyond his panties. “Wait, wait, wait,” John said, as he pressed Ashland forward and off his pelvis. Ashland grabbed onto the headrests of the front seat, while squeezing his legs together and bending forward. He looked back at John as John unclasped his belt buckle. Ashland could feel his heart rate quicken and swallowed hard. John unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and worked them off. John’s rock hard cock was more visible now with a clear outline in his briefs. It was at least eight or nine inches and thick. ‘Fuck that shit is big,’ Ashland thought. John pulled Ashland back on his cock, and Ashland continued to give him a lap dance. “Oh fuck yea, that is better,” he moaned. Ashland’s bare, hot ass was sticky, and as he moved, the material of John’s briefs kept getting pulled down. Eventually, the tip of John’s cock was expose, and Ashland could feel the hot, soft head against his cheeks. Ashland was rolling hard—basking in the sensations of their bodies against each other. It didn’t take long before he couldn’t help himself, and he moved his propped hands from John’s thighs to his briefs and tugged at them. John didn’t hesitate when he felt the gesture, and he lifted his hips and slid his briefs down.

“Ohhhh yeaaa,” Ashland moaned, as he felt the raw sensation of John’s smooth, large cock pressed against his bare ass. Ashland’s hot, burning flesh, which was wet from perspiration, began to coat John’s cock, and in no time, the slick shaft worked its way between Ashland’s cheeks. Admittedly, Ashland loved the sensation of John’s cock between his ass. He began gyrating his hips on John’s cock—rubbing his booty against John’s pelvis. The base of his cock was pressed against Ashland’s thin panties, and behind them, Ashland’s taint and sphincter were being rubbed and teased.

“Oh my god Ashley. I’ve never felt you this hot; you’re on fire.” John moaned.

It was true. Maybe it was the Molly, or maybe it was the adventure of doing something so daring—playing the role of a sexy woman sexually pleasing a total stranger. Whatever it was, Ashland was on fire—burning with desire for a man for the first time in his life, ‘but it was normal’, he reasoned. ‘He was a young woman, and young women are suppose to please strong men,’ he said to himself shockingly. Shaking his head in disbelief at his own thoughts, as John was kissing the back of his neck.

‘Where the fuck did that thought come from?’ He could feel some clarity returning, as the waves were subsiding—a moment of sobriety. ‘This does feel amazing, but I’m a guy,’ he thought. ‘I’m not attracted to men, yet I see them naked all the time when I watch porn, and it is no big deal. In fact, I love watching women suck a huge cock; they make it look so delicious. And it is so hot when a hung stud fucks some hot girl too—busting nut all over them—showering them with cum. Oh shit! What if all this porn has made me want cock! What the fuck? This is like some sissy hypno shit or something!’ Ashland’s mind was regurgitating a million deep, seeded thoughts that had been buried in his unconsciousness forever. The opportunity to dress as Ashley was the catalyst that unleashed Pandora’s Box, and there was no going back.

‘But, yeah, what the fuck am I doing to this guy? This poor guy is getting teased like crazy. His poor balls must be blue as fuck—swollen and in pain—full of cum. I guess that is what he paid for like most of these guys at strip clubs. Unless he paid for more…? Oh shit, what if he paid for more?’ Ashland remembered the condoms in Ashley’s purse. He continued the private lap dance, but he was getting nervous. ‘Yes, John’s swollen cock feels amazing between my ass, but probably not in my ass! I don’t think that would feel good at all. I don’t really want to fuck a guy. Do I? Shit! And he is expecting a wet pussy! Shit! How am I going to get out of this? He is going to be pissed. What if things get violent? Fuck! What if he just paid me for sex, and I back out?’ Ashland’s mind was going crazy from the unknown. He needed to act first.

Offline CDAshleyFoxx

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Reply #5 on: December 06, 2019, 07:47:54 PM
Chapter 6

In his haste, Ashland did the best thing he could think to do, and he reached back behind his ass and pressed John’s cock against his booty. John instinctively began to thrust his cock in Ashland’s hand, as if he was titty-fucking Ashland’s ass. Ashland slid his ass to the base of John’s cock—pressing it to his swollen, aching, blue balls—and began stroking John’s cock with his hot and clammy hand, while rubbing John’s balls with his ass. John began to moan louder. Ashland was praying he would just bust a nut on his ass and hand right then and there, and they would be finished, but he wasn’t so lucky. A few minutes of stroking his cock and John spoke. “Ok babe. Let’s do this.” Ashland’s heart stopped, and he swallowed the knot that was in his throat—anticipating what could possibly come next. “Come on Ashley,” John said encouragingly, as he pushed Ashland off his lap—plopping him on the seat. John naturally grabbed the back of Ashland’s head, as if he had done it a million times before, as he guided Ashland’s mouth to his cock.

Ashland’s fell forward. His eyes were wide in shock, as his puckered lips and nose made contact against John’s shaft. ‘Oh my god! This is happening!’ Ashland pushed himself up from being face planted against John’s crotch, which only gave John the opportunity to raise his cock up in the air—pointing it directly at Ashland’s pouty lips. He guided Ashland’s head down again, and Ashland's pursed lips once more made contact with the head of John’s cock. A small amount of precum that had oozed from the tip smeared itself on Ashland’s lips. Ashland instinctively cleaned off his lips with his tongue, but was surprised to find the precum. It was salty and sweet, but not like nectar—more like bran. ‘That didn’t taste horrible,’ he thought. For a moment he reasoned, horrified by the line of thought, ‘It is probably no different than sucking on a finger or something like sucking my thumb as a kid. No one will know. I just need to get through this—get it over with. Just get it over with Ashland. You can do this!’

With that, Ashland released the tight pinch of his lips—relaxing the muscles. His mouth parted, and he slowly reached out his lips finding the soft, warm head of John’s cock. He lowered himself and allowed John’s cock to slide in his mouth. ‘Oh my god. I have a fucking huge ass cock in my mouth!’ The thought was so surreal—Ashland couldn’t believe the situation; he was sitting in the back of a stranger’s SUV in the middle of the night, wrapped over this man’s thigh with his lips wrapped around the man’s huge cock.

“Oh fuck yea Ashley. I’ve missed that mouth,” John said, as he pressed Ashland’s head down causing several more inches of John’s cock to slid into Ashland’s mouth. “Shit girl! Your mouth is so fucking warm.”

Ashland did not resist. In fact, he was focused intently on doing a good job, and petrified that if he didn’t, John would know, so he swallowed John’s cock the best he could. He quickly assessed his library of porn memories for techniques. He used long strokes—engulfing as much of John’s shaft as he could. He stopped at the top and rolled his tongue around the tip. He ran his tongue up the side of John’s shaft—slapping it against his face—before swallowing it again just like he had seen girls do in the videos.

Then, all of a sudden, Ashland’s eyes rolled back in his head, as a huge wave from the ecstasy hit him. The Molly was kicking back in, and he could feel his body start rolling again. For a moment, he was motionless—bracing himself against the wave of sensations—holding John’s cock still in his mouth. He pulled John’s cock out of his mouth and held it against his face, as the waves passed through him. “Oh my god,” he moaned—breathing deeply. Ashland rubbed his face all over John’s hard cock—smearing his face against the soft skin like a cat rubbing itself against a pant leg. He swallowed John’s cock again and really went to work. His mouth was on fire now; his breath was hot. He eagerly swallowed John’s cock—quickly building John closer to orgasm.

The heightened state he was in maximized the textures and tastes in his mouth. John’s enormous appendage felt epically satisfying filling Ashland’s hot hole. Ashland caught himself in the moment truly enjoying himself. Part of him was enjoying the sensation of John’s shaft buried in his mouth, and the other was enjoying pleasing John—listening to him moan from pleasure. ‘Ummm this is good,’ his mind blurted out.

As a feminine man who wasn’t well endowed, Ashland had never satisfied a woman much, so it felt good to be the object and source of someone’s pleasure; he could be that for John; he could be a sissy for an alpha man. In that moment, Ashland was just finding his place, and the revelation was all too powerful. It was like a weight was being lifted; it was a moment of bliss. ‘Maybe this is what his sister found too,’ he considered. They were twins weren’t they? ‘Maybe she discovered her submissive, sissy side too.’ The thought comforted him that in her final days his sister was at least happy. His thoughts returned their focus to his task with increased intensity. Ashland’s new burst of enthusiasm was more than John could handle.

Ashland could tell it was coming and needed to prepare for John’s load. John was getting rock hard in his mouth, and he could feel John’s body stiffen. Ashland shifted positions on the seat—coming to his knees, so he could position his throat more inline with John’s cock—opening himself to John—giving him his money’s worth and all that he believed Ashley would have given him. His bare booty was high in the exposed air, as he continued to swallow all of John. John’s hand was on top of Ashland’s head—bobbing his head up and down in perfect rhythm, while his other hand worked its way up to Ashland’s ass—squeezing it hard. Ashland squeezed on John’s swollen balls—pulling them down, as he gripped John cock in his mouth, sliding it back and forth in his hot hole.

Suddenly John let out a grunt and arched his hips; he pressed down so hard on Ashland’s head that Ashland practically fell forward—causing John’s cock to slide all the way to the back of Ashland’s throat. Ashland gagged, as he deep-throated John’s cock—crashing his nose into John’s balls—and at that moment, John began to bust his huge load. “Oh fuckkkk yeaaa,” he moaned, as the first gobs of cum shot down Ashland’s throat. Ashland had no choice, but to swallow what already passed his gullet, yet he instinctively gagged and lifted himself off John’s cock. As John had Ashland’s head held down on his cock. Ashland coughed around John’s throbbing cock that was continuing to unload massive streams of hot cum into Ashland’s mouth. Those steams of cum flowed from Ashland’s mouth down John’s shaft, but Ashland collected himself. He opened his throat and swallowed John’s cum, while continuing to suck his cock.

There was an overwhelming sense of pride and a wave of gratification that washed over Ashland’s body causing him to smile with enjoyment as John came in his mouth. He had done this; he had brought someone to orgasm.

“Oh shit,” Ashland said—giggling joyfully, while catching his breath after having removed John’s cock from his mouth. Ashland was still stroking John’s cock in his hand—pressing it against his cheeks and lips, as the last few streams of cum spurted and oozed from John’s tip. “Mmmm fuck yea,” he moaned, as John’s cock spasmed the last of his orgasm—grunting and moaning in the process. Ashland smeared the cum over his soft lips and face before swallowing John’s cock again. Then he ran his flattened tongue along John’s shaft and cleaned up John’s cum like a pro—sucking and licking all the cum from John’s flesh. “Mmmmm good,” he said as if satiated from a thirst, and it was no lie; Ashland realized instantly that he was hooked on the taste of cum and the process of getting it.

Ashland giggled once more, as he picked himself up—wiping the wet mess off his face with his hand. He straightened out his hair, all the while, smirking with self-satisfaction, as he shyly looked at John still panting and basking from their encounter. “Good?” Ashland asked John. John nodded—still trying to catch his breath. Ashland reached in his sister’s purse and pulled out his lipstick and plumper. He liberally applied them both—restoring the color and glisten to his lips like before. This time he leaned into John for a kiss. He affectionately kissed John, as if with gratitude and appreciation for the opportunity to please him.

“Hell baby,” John said, after they were done. “That was probably the best god dam head I’ve ever received. You really upped your game girl.” Ashland blushed and smiled. “What you say we go back to my place and kick it for a while?” Ashland eyes opened wider, as if caught in a predicament. He didn’t know what to say. “Yea baby,” John continued. “We can get a drink and you know, Netflix and chill.”

‘Fuck!’ Ashland thought. He knew what that meant—Netflix and fucking! Part of him was still on a high—literally—and the other part of him was still elated from his experience that he was really considering saying yes. His body was pulling him to say yes, but his rational side was steering him to just go home because of the unknown; how would John react if he saw Ashland’s cock and learned that he wasn’t Ashley. ‘It is too risky.’ Ashland looked down and subtly shook his head. He reached for the rear door and began crawling out of the SUV. “Gotta go,” he said with a sad tone in his voice.

“You sure girl?” Ashland shut the rear door and pulled his minidress back down below his bubble butt, as John moved to the front seat. Ashland repositioned his stockings up higher on his thighs. John looked out the passenger window, as Ashland looked back with affection at the man who just popped his sissy cheery before looking down shyly. Ashland nodded looking as bummed as he could, as if bound by some alternative commitment for the evening.

Just then two blinding spotlights and some headlights turned on from the rear of the Escalade. Ashland stood tall on his heels—blocking the light from his eyes with his hand. A man called out on a loud speaker, “Don’t move!” The Cadillac instantly sprung to life and launched itself, as John floored the accelerator—almost causing Ashland to fall backwards from surprise. The SUV sped off from the ally and could be heard screeching its tires, as it made turns down the street. Ashland balanced himself back to an erect position, yet still bracing himself from the bright light. The car called out again, “Don’t move!” It was obviously a cop. Fuck!

Offline CDAshleyFoxx

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Reply #6 on: December 06, 2019, 07:49:19 PM
I hope you guys enjoy it. Sorry for any typos. Part 2 to follow.



Offline DomandBiM

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Reply #7 on: June 09, 2022, 12:04:30 AM
Superb ... excellent build up and beautifully written 🥰🥰💋

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