Category: Shemale stories

My name’s Kimmi and I used to be a stripper. I’m a genetic girl, and I always had a wild streak. Guys liked me ’cause of my long blond hair, slender build, and sense of humor. They also liked my 36C breasts 🙂

The radio was loud and the top was down when I first saw her.

I am a straight guy, but for years I’ve had an obsession with shemales. I’ve never been able to get them out of my head, but I’ve also never met one. That is, until Natalie. I knew Natalie for a few months since she lived in my dorm and we always hung out in my room with my two roommates. I was a sophomore and she was a freshman, but good lord was she amazing. She had brown hair, brown eyes, a nice full butt and simply gorgeous breasts.

Some of my best friends are transvestites. I met them at a nightclub in L.A. It was pretty famous back in the day. They had a drag and dinner show. Some very talented people worked there. Some actually lived their lives as women, but a lot didn’t.

Carrie had always treated me like her little sister, even though we were only third cousins. Though she was only two years older than I was and not of exceptional physical stature, I had allowed her to dominate me for as long as I could remember. Not that she was exceptionally cruel or abusive in any way. It was just that she seemed to realize I was different, long before I myself knew. I could never remember her treating me like a boy. By the time I reached my teens, I was wearing her clothes at any available opportunity, with her permission and no small measure of encouragement. In our secret world, we talked about boys, makeup and fashion, just like two real girls.

Kristen hurried to her car, worried that she would be late once again. She got in, slammed the

Traci had gotten a job as a maid in a rich man’s house. She looked just like any

I walked into the bar like I’d done so many times before. It was dark, the smoke burned my eyes, and it smelled of thirty years of beer and spilled cocktails. There was just one reason for my being there that night. I had the itch. My balls were swollen and filled with jizz and I wanted a fuck. Just another one-night stand. I never expected what I got.

My name’s Dan and I own The Glass Cat. The Glass Cat is a Female Impersonator club,

I was sitting in yet another boring as hell English class. Seriously, why do I need to read Chaucer? Is that necessary for anything I will do in my life? As much as I try to convince myself the answer to those questions are yes, I still can’t get interested in what he talked about in 1400 a.d.