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Transvestite teen is caught by sister & her boyfriend.

Ah well always next time I smiled as I slid off to sleep after my first date as a single woman.

In the three months or so of our affair the sex did get better. Not a lot but better than that first time. With me not wanting to introduce Emma to my date we settled into a routine. We'd usually meet for lunch once a week occasionally then going to his house or my flat and spending a couple of hours in bed. Alternatively he wouldd cook me dinner and we'd have a repeat of the first time. Not, I hasten to add, with me cumming quite so quickly although, I have to admit, more orgasms were faked than were real. I became quite adept at doing that I suppose.

But there was no real fizz in it and slowly, as his kids came home for the summer holidays the relationship just fizzled out and ended.

Madly mixing metaphors, it never rains but it pours doesn't it? And like London buses none for ages then three at once. Suddenly after a three month barren patch it was suddenly raining men for Monica.

There was Tom an Art Director at one of the agencies I worked for. I'd known him for some time, not that well and certainly not intimately, but on terms that were close enough for us to chat easily.

There was Stuart, a lawyer I met at a dinner party and there was Gordon a fifty year old Mancunian, self-made man I met while on a golfing holiday with seven other women in Spain.

Tom and I sat next to each other at an awards lunch and ended up in his bed that evening. Peter and I went on several dates before gradually getting round to it and Gordon had his hand up my skirt and my tits out on a lounger round the hotel pool at two o'clock in the morning. Quite a varied lot really.

The awards ceremony was at the Savoy. All rather grand and all crushingly boring but I'd written some copy for an ad that he had designed and we were nominated so we had to be there. Fortunately the client could not make it so we were able to overindulge in the free booze and by the time the room was darkened and the presentations started, we did not win, we were both a bit tipsy. He pulled his chair closer to mine as many of the others on the round table turned theirs towards the stage. We laughed a lot taking the piss out of some of the ads and I felt his arm go round the back of my chair and his fingers rest on my shoulder.

"And what Mr Mason, do you think you're doing?" I asked.

"Actually Ms Prescott trying to get into your knickers."

"Well as you know better men at your agency have tried and better men have failed," I replied jokingly. Such banter wasn't that unusual between the male and female staff in the ad industry where PC had not seemed to have arrived.

"Yes but they haven't been close up to you when you're tipsy and just gagging for it have they?"

I quipped back. "Who says I'm half tipsy?"

"Well OK pissed then," he retorted clearly realising that I hadn't rejected the 'gagging for it' remark.

As the ceremony droned on so I felt his hand softly rubbing my shoulder. As we got nearer to our section so his leg pressed against mine. As we both drank more wine so his foot ran up and down my calf and as we realised we hadn't won so I felt his hand on my leg.

"Oh well that's that then," he muttered leaning over so that his mouth was close to my ear. "We might as well go and fuck hadn't we?" In my slightly, well fairly to be truthful, pissed state and with me now trying to be the sophisticated sexual predator of the twenty first century it seemed sort of cool really to say.

"Yeah I guess we should I suppose."

So we did. Twice actually later that afternoon. And it was good. Neither of us was in that fit a state for sexual acrobatics so both times were leisurely and probably not that expert but they were fun.

Until Tom I'd never really looked on sex as being fun.

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