1. My Greek Goddess


    Date: 11/16/2015, Categories: First Time, Mature, Shemales, Author: NYQ, Rating: 100, Source: xHamster

    Feeling frustrated I started looking at the range of tights on display; then jumped as , very close to my ear, a voice hissed "Got you!" I whirled round and standing there, grinning triumphantly at having outwitted me, was my quarry. As if our encounter was the most normal thing in the world she said, in a rich, accented voice, "Hi, I'm Maroula. And you are...?" I was too surprised not to respond, and she nodded and said, "It's nice to meet you Caroline." Then she reached out a hand adorned with sharp red painted nails and stroked my cheek with her palm. I shivered at her soft touch, and she smiled and said, "You're cute. My flat's near here; d'you wanna come back for, erm, coffee?" I was taken aback by her boldness. I honestly don't know what I was thinking as I dumbly nodded. Maybe I did think we would really just have coffee, and my prurient curiosity would be satisfied; but judging by the way my heart started racing, and my nipples tingled, I don't think so. I was silent as Maroula led me towards a quiet street in the New Town, but she did enough talking for both of us. Linking her arm through mine, she explained that she was from a small village in Greece, but she had come to Britain because "this country is more tolerant of people who choose, well, different lifestyles like mine." She said that she used the ladies changing room at the gym, because "I can hardly go in the men's room with these," flicking her hand across her ample chest, "and usually I find a quiet corner ...
    where nobody's going to notice my little surprise". I finally found my voice and began to mumble a halting apology for my rudeness in staring, but she waved it away. "That's okay honey; I don't mind, and maybe we'll both find a new friend out of it." She took me to a Georgian terrace house converted into apartments, and up to the first floor. Maroula took my jacket from me and I sat on a scarlet fabric couch in an elegant, cream-walled lounge while she made coffee. After bringing it, she said "Excuse me baby, I'll just be a minute," and disappeared. She was as good as her word, and re-emerged just a minute later; I had assumed she'd gone to the loo, but I gasped again when she returned: she had changed into a knee-length silk bed jacket, beneath which she was very obviously naked. Oh God, I knew at that point I should get up and run from there, but I felt rooted to the spot. As Maroula sat opposite me I made a conscious effort not to stare at her cock, peeping out from the jacket, but instead my eyes simply focussed on her massive boobs. The jacket had slipped slightly off one shoulder, revealing most of one breast and a generous portion of dark brown areola. Maroula noticed where my gaze was resting and, easing the jacket apart to reveal her chest, said, "You like these? Why don't you see how they feel?" I watched in helpless astonishment as she reached out took one of my hands and pressed it to one of her breasts. It was firm but pliant, a big hard nipple pressing into the ...
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