Passenger Seat Princess
Copyright© 2026 by Michele Nylons
Chapter 3: Bali Hai
Young Adult Sex Story: Chapter 3: Bali Hai - When Crissy is caught crossdressing by her father, he throws her out and she is forced to hitchhike across Australia to live with her aunt in Far North Queensland. She hitches a ride with a trucker named Steve who has mistaken Crissy for a girl and he becomes belligerent. Desperate to get to her destination, Crissy comes out to Steve and uses her feminine wiles to bring him around so that she can continue her journey. Crissy meets an elderly lady who teaches Crissy the art of feminization.
Caution: This Young Adult Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma/Ma Teenagers Coercion Reluctant BiSexual CrossDressing Shemale TransGender Fiction Restart Anal Sex Cream Pie First Masturbation Oral Sex Leg Fetish Public Sex
Karumba, Queensland, Australia – 1986
Steve was in a quandary having just fucked Crissy’s Aunt Greta. Crissy and Steve had not discussed what their relationship actually was but there was no doubt that they were more than just fuckbuddies. Also, Crissy had just agreed to prostitute herself so it wasn’t like she was going to be monogamous, so why should Steve feel guilty?
“Do I tell Crissy about this?” Steve asked.
Greta was sitting up, fussing with her brassiere, putting her big tits back into the cups then she smoothed out her dress.
“Look ... whatever you and Crissy have going is up to you. She’s going to be fucking strange men on a regular basis so if you take a little pleasure elsewhere what has she got to be jealous about?” Greta stood up and went to the front section of her caravan and opened a locked compartment in the floor.
She handed Steve a package about the size of a house brick wrapped tightly in brown paper and covered with a layer of plastic wrap and then she handed him a wad of cash bundled together with a rubber band.
“You know where the hidey-hole is in the cab of the truck right?” Greta asked and Steve nodded.
Steve did know where the hidey-hole was in the cab of the old truck. Most truckers used amphetamines to keep alert and many also kept other illicit material in their hidey-holes. When he’d picked up the truck in Cairns his mate had showed him and Steve was impressed at how innocuous the hiding place was.
“When you get to Cairns take this package to the Frontier Hotel around seven and a guy named Brendon will approach you. He’s a big guy, long hair, beard, tattoos, he’ll identify himself, and ask if you have something for him from ‘Sally’,” Greta winked at Steve.
“And Brendon isn’t his real name either,” Steve returned the wink.
“The fisho doesn’t know what I do with do with the items he brings ashore for me. ‘Brendon’ doesn’t know where or how I get those packages or even who I am. Senior Constable Dave Dillon knows fuck all, nor does he want to. He just gets to fuck me for free while his missus is away. That’s how this works. Don’t tell Brendon your real name or who you work for; just refer to me as Sally if he asks. You’re an intelligent guy Steve, otherwise I wouldn’t have asked you to work for me,” Greta nodded at the cash in Steve’s hand.
“So both Crissy and I work for you now?” Steve smiled knowingly.
“And is that a bad thing?” Greta leaned in and kissed him and squeezed his cock through his shorts.
“I’ll see you and Crissy when I get back from Sydney,” Steve snatched up the key to his caravan off the table where he had put it during their tryst.
He stopped and turned to face Greta.
“How often do I make these runs?” he asked.
Greta just smiled sweetly and shrugged her shoulders.
The next morning Crissy woke up and was pleased to find that she was lying in what was now her own bed. She recalled the events of the last week or so and was amazed how far she had come both figuratively and tangibly. She decided that she had made the right decision to come out as transgender and considered what the next steps would be as part of her transformation. She definitely wanted to get breasts. Not the giant oversize tits she had seen on some porn queens but size-appropriate cleavage.
She also reconsidered her spur of the moment decision to prostitute herself. In the cold light of day it seemed daunting but Aunt Greta was here to help her and the money would go a long way to help pay for her transition.
There was a tap at the door and Greta entered carrying two steaming cups of coffee.
“Get up sleepyhead we have things to discuss and things to do,” Greta settled her ample bottom into one of the two chairs set around the little dining table.
Crissy got up and went into the bathroom and took a piss and joined her aunt. Greta was dressed in another of her comfortable loose-fitting dresses. Crissy was still in the babydoll pyjamas she had purchased in Cairns.
“How many outfits like that do you have?” Greta nodded at Crissy’s pyjamas.
“A couple,” she replied.
“Anything else that is sexy but not expensive. Not dresses or skirts, you know ... sleepwear, slinky stuff,” Greta asked.
“A couple of nylon and satin full-slips. Plenty of sexy panties, a couple of sussies and lots of pantyhose and stockings,” Crissy could guess where this going.
“When your boyfriend gets back from Sydney and starts his regular runs to Cairns, give him a shopping list of peignoirs, full slips, more panties, satin and nylon of course, and a couple of pairs of cheap fuck-me heels. Also get more makeup. These rough and tumble guys like their women dressed femme and sexy. Also get a shit-ton of hold-up stockings, they love stockings,” Greta paused to sip her coffee.
“Get him to buy you more lube and toiletries and some cheap perfume. These are all tools of the trade. Now let me get into specifics...” Greta went on to explain to Crissy how she ran her small stable of prostitutes.
The gist of it was that the girls charged a non-negotiable fee by the half-hour regardless of the services provided. The girls always had the final say: if they didn’t like the punter they didn’t have to service him, if the punter wanted something that girl was unwilling to provide, said service was declined and the girl could charge extra for anything beyond oral or vaginal sex. Fifty percent of what the girls made went to Greta, the girl kept the rest and any gratuities. A drink or two on the job was okay but no drugs were allowed on the premises. Greta ran an appointment book but she often got walk-ins and the girls were kept busy.
“See that red lamp in the window. You switch it on when you’re available. You turn it off while you are servicing a punter and then switch it back on again to signal your availability. I expect my girls to start at 6pm sharp and work at least until midnight and on weekends you start at noon and finish when you finish,” Greta explained.
“Between you girls, you can arrange one day off a week but I need at least three of you working. If for some reason two of you want the same day off and if I’m up for it, I’ll pick up the slack. Because you will be living here fulltime you will work three weeks on and have a week off. That was the arrangement I had with Lucy. The others are FIFO so I expect them to put in the hours while they are here,” Greta finished her blurb.
“Anything else?” Crissy asked.
“Yes, you should know that Steve is working for me as a bouncer when he’s in town and also in another capacity. You should also know that he won’t be jealous of you fucking other men. At least he shouldn’t be because he fucked me last night,” Greta looked Crissy in the eye to gauge her reaction.
“You know what ... that’s actually a relief. While I really like Steve I don’t want him getting too hung up on me,” Crissy said pragmatically.
“One final thing. See that big red button behind the bedhead. That’s your panic button. If you feel threatened in any way or a punter is giving you any kind of grief, press that button and I’ll come running or Steve will, or whoever I have running security on the night. Don’t take any shit from the punters but don’t press the button willy-nilly, you know what happened to the girl who cried wolf,” Greta finished her coffee.
“Wasn’t that the ‘boy’?” Crissy asked and Greta just gave her wry smile.
“Down to business. You have already committed to seeing Wakka so he’ll be your first client. Never call them punters to their face by the way, they are clients. Remember, this is Far North Queensland. You aren’t going to find many Prince Charmings up here, mostly grisly older men, either too skinny or too fat who are tough as old boots. Word has got around that I have a pretty young tranny working for me and you have a full book tonight so rest up today and make sure you are ready to go at six,” Greta got up from the table.
“Get dressed and come over to my van and I’ll take you for a drive around town. There’s a small supermarket in town but they charge like a wounded bull so anything you want that isn’t a necessity get Steve to pick up in Cairns. I’ll be giving him a shopping list every now and then too,” Greta left the cabin and Crissy took a deep breath and headed to the bathroom.
At exactly six that evening there was a polite tap on the door. Crissy was dressed in her babydoll pyjamas, translucent nylon full-cut panties, sheer fleshtone holdup stockings and high heels. She had teased out her hair, her makeup was heavy, her nails were painted and she was doused in perfume. As per Greta’s instructions she had made herself look as slutty as possible. A tube KY-Jelly sat on the nightstand in arm’s reach from the bed with a pack of moisturised wipes beside it.
Crissy took a deep breath and opened the door.
She couldn’t help smiling when she saw Wakka. He had taken her instructions to clean himself up a bit before he came to see her to the extreme. He was wearing clean work shorts and a nearly new singlet, his hair was slicked down, still wet from the shower, and she could smell the overpowering scent of Old Spice aftershave as soon as she opened the door. He had even brushed the few remaining teeth he had left because she smelled mouthwash on his breath when he opened his mouth to talk. He was holding a sixpack of Fourex.
“Hello Crissy,” he said rather bashfully.
He was a far cry from the smelly rough and tumble fishing boat skipper she had seen in the pub the night before but he was still very gnarly.
He kicked off his rubber thongs as he stepped inside and Crissy closed the door and remembered to turn off the red light. Wakka stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, holding onto his sixpack of beer, like he had never done this before even though Greta had told Crissy that Wakka was one of Lucy’s regular customers. The room was dimly lit by a single bed lamp and anything of value had been locked away. The room was scrupulously clean and the bedlinen fresh and a cheap absorbent short-time sheet laid on top as per Greta’s advice.
Crissy had drunk two gin and tonics while she was getting dressed, just to take the edge off and she felt quietly confident that she would be able to do what she had to do but her heart was thumping in her chest.
Wakka went over to the little table, put down the beers and laid out the required stipend for a one hour visit and once again seemed at a loss as to how to proceed.
“Greta tells me that you used to see Lucy, I hope I can provide you with the same satisfaction,” Crissy felt stupid as soon as she said the words but Wakka seemed relieved.
Feeling a little silly about what she had said she put the beers in her minifridge to distract herself.
“Well, you are a lot prettier and younger than Lucy and Lucy was a big girl and you are tiny and I’ve been dreaming of this all day,” Wakka breathed.
“I want an hour with you and I’d like a bit of oral before we ... before we have sex. I’m not a poofter or anything so I don’t want you to root me or nuthin’ like that,” Wakka gave her his gap-toothed grin but he was blushing.
Greta had told Crissy that Lucy used to ‘top’ as well as ‘bottom’ and explained to her what those terms meant and Crissy said that she would definitely not be topping anyone and Greta replied that she would make that abundantly clear to potential clients.
Crissy almost felt sorry for Wakka because he was so nervous. The uncouth lout she had seen in the Animal Bar seemed more like a reticent schoolboy. She walked over to Wakka and smiled at him and leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.
“Shall we go over to the bed?” she whispered in a sultry tone.
Wakka followed Crissy towards the bed all the time staring at her legs, sheathed in those gorgeous sheer stockings and he also checked out her bottom. It wasn’t as plump and rounded as Lucy’s but it was still magnificent and the sheer pink skirt of her babydoll pyjamas clung to her buttocks nicely.
Crissy sat on the edge of the bed and patted the space beside her and Wakka sat down next to her but not too close.
Wakka was nervous and that was unlike him. He was usually confident and controlling but the diminutive little girl sitting beside him seemed so fragile. He found her beguiling and so different to Lucy. Wakka noticed that her long fingernails were painted the same red as her lipstick.
Wakka took Crissy’s hand in his and gazed into her sparkling blue eyes.
“You are beautiful. I really haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I saw you yesterday,” Wakka sighed
Crissy decided that she had better get things moving along and she leaned in and kissed him.
Wakka rested his hand on her knee and ran his fingers along her leg and returned the kiss. Crissy was uncomfortable with Wakka’s mouth because of the missing teeth but he was a good kisser and he used his tongue expertly whilst his hand softly stroked her legs, his fingers tracing a line along her stockings, pausing when they came to the lacy band at the top. He fiddled with the welt for a while, kissing her, his breathing becoming laboured.
Then Wakka slid his hand under the loose chemise and continued on to her slinky nylon panties. Crissy smiled because Wakka’s inhibitions had dissipated and it actually felt good being kissed and fondled by the old seadog. Her cock was uncomfortably hard, pressed along her perineum and she wriggled a little and let is spring free, all the time kissing Wakka passionately.
Wakka touched Crissy’s penis through the gauzy material of her panties and cautiously felt the outline of the appendage. Crissy could sense his hesitancy and she understood why. She was a lot younger and more delicate than the Rubenesque, buxom-breasted island girl she had replaced. There was an awkward moment while they broke apart and Wakka stripped down to his jockey shorts.
Wakka became more confident and he pulled Crissy into his embrace and they rolled around on the bed, kissing, fondling and canoodling. Wakka’s tongue invaded her mouth and his hands were everywhere: stroking her legs, squeezing her buttocks and sometimes stroking her cock through her panties. Crissy responded accordingly and she stroked Wakka’s cock, feeling the precum leaking from the eye in a continual dribble. She used the viscous fluid to lubricate his shaft and slowly stroked him as he gasped into her mouth.
He moved her hand out of the way and rubbed his cock on her stockings and rings of intense pleasure radiated from his cock. Their kisses were becoming frenetic and Wakka guided his cock to Crissy’s panties and he rubbed it there, pressing it against Crissy’s cock. Her panties soon became soaked in precum and Crissy decided it was time to move things along.
She broke out of Wakka’s embrace and pushed him down on the bed so that his head rested on the pillows and pulled off his jocks. Crissy looked down at Wakka and smiled seductively and he looked up at the beautiful young woman on her knees holding his cock inches away from her ruby-red lips and his heart skipped a beat. Crissy licked her lips seductively and gazed at Wakka’s cock, the shaft was girded by blue veins, the skin translucent, the head bulbous and pink, a clear droplet of pre-ejaculate formed at the eye.
Crissy tentatively extended her tongue and licked the bubble of precum off the tip of Wakka’s penis. It tasted clean and salty and then Crissy put Wakka’s cock in her mouth and closed her mouth on the shaft and worked her tongue on the flange of Wakka’s cock and lapped at his fraenulum she felt his cock judder in her mouth and heard him groan. His hands went to her head and he entwined his fingers in her hair but he wasn’t rough. He gently guided her mouth up and down on his cock and Crissy enjoyed him doing so. She liked it when Steve did this but she was surprised that this grizzled old fisherman caused her have the same response.
Wakka lay back and watched Crissy’s head bobbing up and down on his hard cock and he began to mewl and moan while Crissy used her soft lips to suckle his shaft and her wet silky tongue to slather his glans. He was going to come soon but that was ok. He wanted to fuck her after the refractory period.
Crissy felt Wakka’s cock begin to throb and pulse in her mouth and she sensed that he was about to ejaculate so she sucked it harder and faster and lashed his glans with her tongue. Wakka stopped Crissy from bobbing her head up and down and held her head still and fucked her face as he unloaded stream after stream of hot, viscous semen into her pretty mouth and Crissy savoured the salty, musky issue before she swallowed it.
Crissy got off the bed and snatched the money off the table as she made her way to the bathroom. She put the money in the vanity for now, brushed her teeth, fixed her makeup and brushed her hair.
When she returned to the main room Wakka was sitting at the table dressed only in his jocks, sucking on a can of Fourex. He’d opened one for her and she sat down and sipped on it, a little nervous now that the sex was over with. Wakka however, seemed to have regained his confidence.
“That was pretty fucking awesome Crissy,” Wakka grinned at her.
His body was tanned almost black, his tattoos barely visible on his leathery skin. He was skinny with knotted muscles, his skin heavily scarred in places from wounds he’d received working at sea on a fishing trawler.
“Don’t worry, I never go overtime. I’ll be ready to go again as soon as I’ve finished this can and I really want to root you,” Wakka grinned at her as if this was some worldclass accomplishment.
Crissy smiled back at him. He was no adonis with his shaggy hair, missing teeth, broken nose and scruffy, wispy beard but he was goodhearted. Wakka drained his can, stood up and burped. True to his word, his penis was tenting his jocks.
Crissy led him back over to the bed where they kissed, caressed and canoodled. This time Wakka was more forceful and he smashed his mouth against hers and drove his tongue into her mouth. One hand went to her buttocks and squeezed them painfully while his other hand held her close. Crissy squirmed a little, indicating her discomfort and Wakka’s kisses became less fervent and more tender.
He relaxed his grip a little so that he was no longer crushing her but he held her tight and began to stroke and caress her buttocks rather than squeezing them. Wakka inhaled her perfume while he kissed her, his lips soft on hers, his tongue gently probing, his cock pressing against her and relished Crissy’s delicate femininity.
She pressed her soft body against his scrawny, muscled frame and felt the bulge of his cock on her belly. She wrapped her arms around him and Wakka rolled Crissy onto her back and mounted her. She wrapped her legs around Wakka’s waist and pulled him in.
The feel of Crissy’s gossamer silken hose on his flesh felt wonderful as she scissored her legs against his flesh. He put his hand inside the top of her garment and kissed Crissy’s shoulder and she gasped at the feel of his raspy face on her tender flesh. His lips and tongue followed the hollow of her neck and his other hand found her thighs and stroked her diaphanous-sheathed legs.
He pulled down the lacy top of her chemise and Crissy gasped as Wakka suckled her nipples, using his lips and his tongue to nurse her swollen teats whilst nipping at them gently with his lips. Crissy moaned and when Wakka began to stroke her legs and snake his hands under her chemise she shuddered with lust.
Crissy entwined her fingers in Wakka’s wispy chest hair; she kissed the top of his head as he tended to her meagre breasts. He expertly suckled her nipples whilst his hands moved further and further along her nyloned-thighs until they reached her panties where the fingers of one hand circled her satiny pubis. Pleasure radiated though her body and Crissy threw back her head and moaned.
She snaked her hand down his body and slipped a hand inside his briefs and extracted his thick meaty cock and bulging scrotum. Wakka growled as Crissy began to stoke him. His shank was long and sleek and she slowly worked her fingers along the veiny, steel-like shaft. Wakka kissed Crissy passionately, his tongue insistent. His fingers found her penis and squeezed it gently though her panties and Crissy shuddered with desire. Greta had warned Crissy not to orgasm with her first couple of customers because she had long night ahead of her. Unlike the other girls Crissy could not fake her orgasm but she relished being fondled, caressed and kissed by this rough diamond of a man.
She stroked Wakka’s hard rod, using the dribbles of precum to lubricate it while Wakka caressed her engorged penis through her panties, feeling the slinky fabric become damper as she leaked pre-ejaculate. Crissy’s cock radiated pleasure and her mouth was on fire from Wakka’s kisses. She hooked her ankles around his legs trying to pulling him closer so that he would consummate their union before he invoked an unwanted orgasm from her.
Wakka desperately wanted to fuck this pretty young girl and he kicked off his underpants and reached out for the tube of K-Y Jelly on the nightstand. He squeezed the tube and generously slathered the viscous salve on his member. He pulled the crotch of her panties aside exposing her puckered bud and pressed the glans of his cock into the wrinkled aperture and began to push his rampant cock into Crissy’s anus.
Crissy concentrated on relaxing her anal muscles as Wakka kissed her and he pushed a little harder, sliding the last of his engorged manhood into Crissy’s distended anus. Crissy felt his pubis slam into hers and his scrotum slap against her buttocks as his cock lay nestled deep inside her.
She put her arms around his neck and wrapped legs around his waist and hung onto Wakka, returning his kisses as he slowly began to fuck her. Wakka gripped her hips and drove his cock slowly in and out of her stretched anus. The feel of her tight tunnel clasping his bloated penis was unbelievable. He luxuriated in the feel of her tiny silken-shrouded body as she clung to him with her arms and legs, her nylon-sheathed legs caressing his flanks, her heels scratching his back...
Wakka’s bloated cock was distending her sphincter and her anus, his glans pressing on her prostate, his lips crushing hers, his tongue slithering in her mouth as he began to fuck her harder. It hurt a little but not enough for her to stop him.
Wakka felt his climax approaching and he slipped his hands under Crissy’s buttocks and lifted her bottom off the coverlet and began to jackhammer his cock in out of her tight hole and she clung to him. Crissy felt Wakka’s cock suddenly begin to pulsate as he filled her back passage with his load. His scalding semen filled her and dribbled from her tight ring, running down the crack between her buttocks and her inner thighs.
She clung to Wakka and kissed him while he ravished her, he was no longer the meek and bashful man who had entered her cabin. He was a strong, eager fisherman who was using Crissy’s body to extract every ounce of pleasure he could from her. Crissy played her role and when Wakka rammed his cock all the in her as far as it would go, expelling the last of his issue, she moaned like the whore she had become. He stifled her moans with a passionate kiss and she scratched his flesh with her nails and drummed her heels on his back as his climax peaked and subsided.
When Wakka began to come down from his climactic high he reverted to his gentle self and they clung to each other like lovers and kissed in post-coital bliss until finally Wakka’s penis plopped from her anus releasing a flood of semen. Crissy was glad that Greta had provided her with a stack of short-time sheets to protect her coverlet.
Wakka climbed off Crissy and looked at his watch.
“I’ve still got ten minutes, can I have a tinnie and a smoke before I leave?” he asked as he reached for his underpants, work shorts and singlet.
“Sure. Pop me can and light me a smoke and I’ll be right out,” Crissy headed to the bathroom where she wiped away the excess semen that had puddled in her panties.
She didn’t bother with her hair or makeup, douching or changing her clothes. She had half an hour between each punter to do that. Instead she came out and joined Wakka for a smoke and a drink.
“That was even more awesome Crissy. You definitely have a repeat customer in me,” Wakka patted her hand chastely.
Crissy listened to Wakka tell her about his last fishing trip and he told her that he was sailing again tomorrow but would be back in a week and would require her services. All the time Crissy was looking at the clock on the wall. Time was money and Greta warned her against going overtime with clients. But she had nothing to worry about. Right on time Wakka stood up, collected his cigarettes and the last two tinnies from her fridge and kissed her goodbye.
Crissy went into the bathroom and recovered the cash and put it in the lockbox under her bed then she cleaned herself, fixed her hair and makeup and put on clean panties and stockings. The babydoll pyjamas were not badly stained and would do for her next customer and no sooner did she turn on the red lamp than there was a knock at the door.
One Year Later...
Crissy was a lot more comfortable in her skin now that she had been living as a woman for just over a year. Although she was able to legally change her name from Chistian to Cristina there was no legal avenue for her to change her gender but that had not been an issue. Queensland had recently introduced laminated driver’s licences and when Crissy sat for her photograph she presented femme even though the card listed her sex as ‘M’ but she didn’t overdo the makeup and there was no problem. When she obtained a passport she used a similar picture but of course she had no choice but to profess her gender as male.
Crissy no longer identified as male except for legal reasons but that was fine with her except that now that she was about to travel overseas she would have to present as male to pass through customs and immigration in Australia and Indonesia but that was only a slight embuggerance. She would wear her androgynous look but of course eschew the makeup and heels until she arrived in Bali where she would change into feminine attire and put on her makeup as soon as she arrived at the hotel.
She was travelling to Bali with Greta, ostensively on a holiday but Greta had business to attend to with her contact in the smuggling game. Crissy would also be attending an accredited clinic to have her breasts augmented. The procedure would cost her a fraction of the cost than it would in Australia but would require her to stay in Bali for a week after the surgery but that was ok by her. A week lazing around the pool drinking cocktails, even though she wouldn’t be able to swim, was a luxury after literally working her arse off for most of the year.
She was lying on her side in her bed and Steve Kessler was slowly sliding his cock in and out of her tight rectum whilst stroking her cock. It felt nice fucking like this. Steve hugging her tightly, nuzzling her neck, his big phallus filling her, lighting up the sensitive nerves circling her anus, her rectum tingling and her prostate emitting a continual pleasurable resonance. Steve had asked her to wear pantyhose as usual and her cock was sheathed in the diaphanous nylon mantle, Steve’s fingers circling her hard appendage.
Most of her clients preferred that she wear stockings but Steve still had this obsession with pantyhose which Crissy was more than happy to fulfill. She felt Steve’s cock begin to palpitate and sensed that he was ready to climax, he had been edging Crissy for over half an hour now and she was more that ready to orgasm.
Steve rolled Crissy on her back and jammed a pillow under the small of her back so that her buttocks were raised invitingly and she obligingly wrapped her legs around him as he plunged his distended penis inside her and began to pummel her tight, slick chamber. He kissed her and moaned into her mouth and she felt his cock pulsate as his climax approached. She returned his kisses and scissored her legs against his flanks, knowing that he adored the sensation of her silken-hosed limbs on his flesh. She kegelled and undulated her anal sheath, a trick she had learned on the job, and milked Steve of his warm creamy issue. She felt him deposit his seed deep in her rectum.
The phenomenon of Steve’s cock ejaculating inside her as it plunged in and out of her, his glans pressing on her prostate, the girth of it stimulating her sphincter, her pantyhose-swathed cock rubbing against Steve’s belly invoked her own orgasm and she kissed him fervently as she jettisoned her issue into her pantyhose. It burst through the diaphanous nylon and smeared Steve’s stomach.
Steve lay on top of her, supporting his not insignificant weight on his elbows as they basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking, neither of them in a hurry to break the embrace and leave the comfort of Crissy’s bed. This was their farewell fuck. Steve was driving Crissy and Greta to Cairns the next day so they could board their direct flight to Bali.