Turned into a sissy slut

[BBdutchass]

This will be a longer story. So stay with it. Maybe it is not immidiatly what you expect. For the rest enjoy it

 

The neon lights of the local bar flickered against the polished mahogany, casting an otherworldly glow over the faces of my friends and me as we clinked our glasses together. The air had the scent of alcohol and laughter, a potent cocktail that promised a night of unbridled fun and reckless abandon. The music was a steady pulse in the background, setting the rhythm for our conversations and the occasional shuffling of our feet as we felt the first whispers of the beat in our bones.

We were all dressed to the nines, our clothes sticking slightly to our skin in the humid warmth of the bar. The drinks were cold and strong, each sip a delightful shock to the system that had us all feeling a little less inhibited with every passing minute. The evening was young, and the excitement of the night ahead had us all buzzing like a hive of eager bees, eager to find our sweet spot in the urban jungle.

As the hours ticked by, the conversation grew louder, the laughter more raucous. The time to move to the next stage of our nocturnal escapade had arrived. With a collective nod, we gathered our things and made our way down the road to the throb of bass that signaled the heart of the nightclub. The line outside was a serpent of vibrant energy, writhing to the music that spilled into the street like a siren's call.

The bouncer, a mountain of a man with a stern face, checked our IDs and let us slide through the velvet rope. The club was a cavern of sensory delights, the music a living entity that filled every corner, making the walls pulse and the floor vibrate beneath our feet. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and perfume, a heady mix that was as intoxicating as the drinks we had consumed earlier. We wove through the crowd, our eyes scanning the sea of bodies for the perfect place to anchor ourselves.

My friends and I danced with a variety of women, their smiles as bright as the disco lights that painted their faces. Each had a story to tell, a dance to share, a kiss to offer. The night was a tapestry of fleeting connections, a dance of desire and possibility. The music grew more intense, and so did the press of bodies around us, a writhing mass of humanity seeking the same primal release.

As the night grew later, the club's energy shifted, the crowd's pulse grew stronger, and my friends began to peel away like petals from a flower. One by one, they shouted their goodbyes over the din, their eyes glazed with the excitement of the night's conquests and the promise of what lay ahead. I remained, not quite ready to leave the intoxicating embrace of the music, the lights, and the unspoken challenge of the dance floor.

Then, amidst the frenetic dance of bodies, I spotted her: Manuela, a vision of Brazilian beauty with a round, tempting ass that swayed to the rhythm like a hypnotist's pendulum and breasts that seemed to defy gravity with every step. Her smile was the warmth of a summer sun, and it washed over me as she approached. We danced together, our bodies moving in a silent conversation that grew more intimate with each beat. Her skin was smooth, her eyes a dark, inviting mystery. I was lost in the moment, my mind a whirlwind of desire and the sweet scent of her perfume.

As the night grew wilder, my last friend shouted over the music that he'd be heading home, his voice barely a murmur in the chaos. He gave me a knowing look, a nod of approval towards Manuela, and disappeared into the throng of people. The crowd closed around us like a curtain, leaving us in our own little world. She leaned in close, her breath hot against my ear as she whispered, "You don't have to go home alone tonight."

Her words sent a thrill down my spine, and I followed her through the club like a moth to a flame. She led me to a corner where a group of her friends were huddled together, their eyes glinting with mischief. One of them, a tall, curvy woman with a wicked smile, looked me up and down before declaring, "He can become a nice little gatinha," and they all burst into laughter.

I didn't know what it meant, so I just laughed with them. We danced some more, our bodies moving closer and closer until there was no space between us. The music washed over us like a warm, velvet wave, carrying us along in its seductive embrace. I felt Manuela's hands roaming my body, her touch electric and confident, leaving trails of fire wherever she touched. Her friends watched us with amused interest, whispering among themselves in Portuguese.

The night grew thick with anticipation, and finally, Manuela leaned in to whisper, "Let's go," her breath tickling my ear. I nodded eagerly, and she led me out of the club and into the cool night air. The streets were deserted, the only sound our footsteps echoing off the concrete. Her hand was warm in mine, guiding me through the quiet, shadowy streets. We talked about trivial things, the conversation a gentle stream that flowed effortlessly between us, masking the thunderous anticipation building in my chest.

When we arrived at her house, she turned to face me, the moonlight caressing her features like a lover's hand. She leaned in, her soft, full lips pressing against mine, and suddenly, the world narrowed down to just the two of us. Her kiss was insistent, demanding, and I found myself eagerly responding. Our tongues danced together, a sensual tango that sent jolts of pleasure through my body. Her hands roamed my shoulders, her touch light yet firm, and I felt the first stirrings of something new, something that hinted at a power she hadn't revealed at the club.

As we made out, her words whispered through the night, "Você é tão gostoso, meu boiola." I didn't understand, but the tone was affectionate, almost teasing. "You are such a nice boiola," she said again in English, her eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief. "And you are going to be a nice gathina," she added, her hand sliding down to squeeze my ass. The term was unfamiliar, but the way she said it sent a shiver down my spine, a delicious mix of excitement and confusion.

Without another word, she got down on her knees, her dress hiking up to reveal smooth, toned thighs. She reached for my zipper, her movements deft and practiced, as if this was a dance she had performed a hundred times before. The cool air hit my skin as she pulled my boxers down, and my cock sprang free, standing at attention from the anticipation that had been building all night.

Her eyes widened slightly, a look of surprise and hunger crossing her features. "Nice higz," she murmured, her accent thick and tantalizing as she wrapped her soft, delicate hand around my shaft. Her thumb stroked the head gently, sending a shiver through me that made me gasp. "I like that," she said, her voice a purr that seemed to resonate in my very bones.

Manuela leaned in closer, her lips parting to reveal perfect, white teeth as she took me into her warm, wet mouth. She began to suck with a slow, deliberate rhythm that had me moaning in pleasure. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced before - a masterful performance that had every nerve in my body standing at attention. She was in complete control, and I was her eager, willing participant.

Her tongue swirled around my shaft with a skill that belied her innocent demeanor at the club. She hit every spot, her touch as precise as it was passionate. The sensation was overwhelming, and I found myself bucking my hips, trying to push deeper into the velvety heat of her mouth. She took it all, her cheeks hollowing out as she sucked me with an enthusiasm that was as surprising as it was arousing. Her eyes never left mine, and the intensity of her gaze was almost too much to bear.

As the pleasure grew, so did my curiosity about the term she had used. "What's a gathina?" I managed to ask between gasps. She chuckled, the sound vibrating against my cock, sending waves of pleasure through my body. "It's a good boy," she said, her voice thick with desire. "A boy who does everything his lady tells him."

Her mouth was a symphony of sensations, each movement more masterful than the last. Her tongue danced around the sensitive ridge of my cock, her teeth grazing lightly against my skin, and her hand cupped my balls, applying just the right amount of pressure. It was clear that she knew what she was doing, and she was taking me on a journey that I never wanted to end.

But as the crescendo approached, I could feel myself losing control. My hips began to buck more urgently, and I reached down to grip her hair, guiding her rhythm to match the pounding of my pulse. And then, with a guttural groan, I exploded into her mouth, my cum spurting in hot, thick ropes that she eagerly swallowed. She didn't miss a beat, continuing to suck and lick until every last drop had been wrung from me.

Manuela got up, her knees popping as she rose to her full height. She licked her lips with a smack and a wink, the taste of me still fresh in her mouth. She reached up and closed my pants, her movements slow and deliberate, almost taunting in their casualness. Before I could fully process what had happened, she was on me again, kissing me deeply. The salty tang of my own cum mixed with the sweetness of her mouth, a heady cocktail of passion and submission that had me reeling.

"Maybe next week," she said, pulling away with a smirk, "you come over and see what else I have planned for my little boiola." Her eyes gleamed with a mischief that sent a shiver down my spine, and I nodded eagerly, unable to hide my excitement. I had never felt so alive, so utterly consumed by desire for someone.

Manuela reached into her tiny clutch and pulled out a pen, scribbling something on a napkin that she handed to me. "Call me," she said, her voice a seductive purr, "and I will tell you where to be next Friday." She leaned in, whispering the words "be a good boy" before she turned and sashayed away, her hips moving with a mesmerizing sway that had every eye in the club on her.

After she closed her door. Turned around and walked back home. I could not stop thinking qbout how this night had turned out. I met this beautifull girl and she liked me as well, she gave me her number and even wanted to see me next week again. I opened my door without realizing itand went straight to bed. I felt a sleep feeling happy an d euphoric, i didn't know than what Manuela all had planned for me.

[xxEX69]

More please, Friday please… thank you I’m pleased