Cairns, Queensland, Australia – 1986

Steve parked the truck in Portsmith when they arrived in Cairns. The road on the very edge of town was next to the long wharf where raw sugar was loaded onto waiting freighters and delineated the point where semitrailers could no longer proceed into the city. During the last part of the journey, the highway had snaked through acres and acres of sugarcane as far as they eye could see, dotted by farmhouses and small coastal communities. Steve asked Crissy to stay in the sleeper whilst he walked a kilometre to the truck depot.

He was gone for about an hour and Crissy caught up on some sleep and when Steve came back he was smiling.

“I quit my job,” Steve announced as he climbed into the sleeper.

“What do you mean?” Crissy was puzzled.

“I’m not going be driving long-haul out of Sydney anymore. A mate of mine runs freight between Cairns and Karumba. I’m going to drive for him,” Steve sounded excited but Crissy was confused.

“It’s less than a day’s run each way. I can get a place in Karumba and work out of there. I’ll be close to you,” Steve grinned.

“What about Sydney?” Crissy asked.

“In Sydney I rent a shithole apartment where I live by myself. There’s nothing keeping me there. Once I’m settled in Karumba I’ll fly back down south, cancel my lease, load my ute and drive back to Karumba. What do you think?” Steve said enthusiastically.

“You're not doing this for me are you Steve? We’ve only just met and anyway I’m supposed to stay with my Aunt Greta and get a job on a trawler,” Crissy tried to talk some sense into Steve.

“Look, I’ve got a load leaving tomorrow so I’ll take you to Karumba. You can go and meet your Auntie and sort something out. She owns a caravan park right?” Steve reasoned.

“I’ll rent a caravan from her and you decide what you want to do but I’m only interested in Cristina, not Christian. Let’s just give it a go and see what happens,” Steve reached for Crissy and kissed her softly.

“Okay,” Crissy sighed, feeling quite overwhelmed.

“I’ve got to break up the road train here. A couple of trucks from the company will take the other two trailers to the freight yard. I got us a room at the Cairns City Motel on Lake Street. I’ll unhitch the trailers and drop you off,” Steve jumped out of the cab and got to work.

Steve unhitched the road train and drove into town and parked in the loading zone near the motel. He checked into the motel and gave Crissy a key.

“Cairns is a vibrant, tolerant community with lots and lots of tourists from all over the world. You can get around as Crissy without being hassled. Check out The Esplanade and do some shopping. I’m going to be a couple of hours,” Steve explained.

Crissy took her duffle and her big shopping bag, bypassed reception and went straight to the room. It was quite an improvement on the shitty room they had shared the previous evening. She put her things away, shouldered her purse and stepped outside to explore Cairns. Even though it was the middle of winter, or ‘The Dry’ as they called it up north, the day was balmy and Crissy had taken off her pantyhose and shaved her legs, even though they didn’t really need it.

Steve was right, the streets were crowded with an eclectic mix of locals, tourists, itinerant workers of all persuasions. Crissy did get looked at with equal amounts of curiosity and appreciation as she made her way along the mall and down to The Esplanade and walked along beachfront but no one bothered her. She took some coins from her purse, summoned up her courage and called Aunt Greta from a public phone.

“I thought I’d be hearing from you soon Christian. Billy told me all about what happened. He’s such a prude my brother,” Greta said when Crissy told Aunt Greta that she was in Cairns but not the circumstances that had got her there.

“Your mother told me that you had been wearing her clothes and even back then I thought there might have been some nancy in you,” Greta chuckled as if it was nothing

Crissy decided to go all in.

“I’m living full-time as Crissy now Aunt Greta. I decided to be true to myself during the journey to Cairns. I met a lovely lady in Mackay who understood exactly who I was and I’ve been travelling with an older man, a truckdriver, who treats me just like a girl,” Crissy waited for the phone to explode in her hand.

“I bet he does Crissy. I can only imagine,” Greta replied satirically but there was no explosion.

“Look, I’m not going to pass judgement on you. I’ve lived a rather, shall we say, excentric life myself. Come on up to Karumba and we will see what we will see. I obviously can’t get you a job on trawler as Crissy. You will either be fucked to death or beaten to death, depending on who the skipper is,” Greta chuckled, although the thought of being gang-fucked by the crew or bashed by them was not a thing Crissy felt was comical.

“Can my friend stay at your caravan park when he gets there?” Crissy asked, she did not think the word ‘boyfriend’ was appropriate.

“Yes your truckie can stay. I’ll book him in as soon as we get off the phone. Is he the jealous type?” Greta asked, which threw Crissy for a loop.

“What do you mean is he the jealous type? I don’t know, I have only known him for a few days,” Crissy replied cautiously.

“Never mind. There’s another job opportunity for you that I just thought of. You would be working for me here at the caravan park and you need not worry about living full-time as Crissy to do it. I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Greta hung up the phone and if Crissy was perplexed before, now she was dumbfounded.

Crissy found herself back on Lake Street and she wondered along it until she came to Bolands, a quaint old building inside of which she located a department store. The clothing that she had been given by Beverley at Lane’s in Mackay was hardly suitable for day wear in the tropical north, although Crissy would have desperately liked to go out and about in the black pencil skirt, mauve satin blouse, nylons and heels that Beverley had gifted her.

She found some nightwear, some skirts and tops more suitable to the climate and a couple of pairs of sandals that she liked and on a whim also selected a one-piece swimming costume. She was a little nervous about using the dressing rooms to try them on but no one seemed perturbed by her presence. She complimented herself on being passable to most people and dipped into the money her father had given her before she left. So far she’d had a free ride and Aunt Greta seemed to have a job lined up for her so why not spend some money?

Back at the motel Steve was waiting for her and hungry for sex. He was lying naked on the bed, his cock fully erect. She was aware that he was studying her as he lazily stroked his penis.

“More shopping?” he pointed to the shopping bags with the Bolands logo on them.

“I needed more clothes. You want me to be Crissy full-time and all I have that is suitable for daywear is this skirt and top,” Crissy dropped the bags on the floor.

“You’re not wearing pantyhose,” Steve sounded disappointed.

“It’s too fucking hot babe but it’s air conditioned in here. Would you like me to put some on?” Crissy said and realised that she had used the soubriquet ‘babe’ for the first time.

“Yeah, just some nylons and panties then come join me on the bed,” Steve smiled at her salaciously and waggled his cock at her.

“I’m not clean, we can’t fuck,” Crissy decided to be upfront about it.

If Steve wanted a relationship with her then he might as well know about the vagaries of being with a transvestite. She stripped and Steve saw her naked for the first time. He studied her lithe, tanned body. With her diminutive physique, pretty face enhanced by makeup, her shoulder-length sun-bleached hair, her long legs, the little swell of her belly and her full, rounded buttocks, she looked like a flat-chested girl, except of course for her genitalia. Steve reminded himself of the age difference between them. Crissy was nineteen and he was thirty five.

“Who says I want to fuck?” Steve watched as Crissy sat on one of the two cheap dining chairs and rolled on a pair of sheer-to-the-waist pantyhose and then pulled on a pair of pristine, white full-cut satin panties.

The front of her panties bulged with the not unsubstantial girth of her penis and once again Steve was amazed that Crissy could tuck that thing in such a way that she presented an almost perfect pudenda. He was also amazed that it didn’t faze him that she had a penis. A week ago he would have been revolted by it but now he was curious. He’d felt Crissy’s hard cock pressing against his belly when they fucked and felt her ejaculate on him when she came. He wondered what it might be like to touch it.

“Come over here darling, lets cuddle and see what happens. We don’t have to fuck,” he smiled at her and Crissy sprayed herself liberally with perfume and joined him on the bed.

She was acutely aware that he used the soubriquet ‘darling’. Their relationship was changing. She was no longer just Steve’s sex doll, paying her way north with sex. She meant something to him.

Steve smiled at Crissy and she felt herself melt a little. Steve was no male model. At best he could be described as ruggedly handsome, with his shock of unkempt hair, hairy muscled torso and hard beer-belly. His manners left a lot to be desired and his hygiene wasn’t perfect but Crissy could tell that he adored her and she liked him. He was, of course, the first man that she had been with. For the time being at least, Steve would do.

Steve pulled her into his arms and began to kiss her and she returned his kisses.

"You really are gorgeous you know, I’m a very lucky man," Steve smiled at her again and lowered his face to hers.

Steve took his time, letting their passions build. He kissed her closed mouth, his lips just brushing hers. He held her lightly, their bodies not quite touching. He would break the kiss intermittently and gaze into her sparkling blue eyes and shower her with compliments and then start kissing her all over again.

Steve pressed his lips a little harder and pulled her closer, their bodies just touching. He continued to kiss her, opening his lips slightly and Crissy opened hers. His breath was sweet and she was grateful that he had showered and brushed his teeth. He was wearing a very masculine aftershave, Old Spice or something similar. Crissy snuggled into him and she could feel the strength in his arms and Steve slipped the tip of his tongue into her mouth.

They kissed softly like that and slowly they eased their tongues deeper into each other's mouths and Steve pulled her tightly against him and rested one hand on her buttocks. Crissy gasped; she could feel the heft of his growing erection against her belly but Steve wasn't being assertive or demanding like he usually was. She could tell that he was hankering for sex but he seemed to be in no rush. Crissy liked this more affectionate side of Steve. The deal had always been that he could use her for his pleasure in exchange for letting her ride in his truck but something had changed in his demeanour and she liked it.

Crissy wrapped herself around his body like a cat; she interlaced her fingers behind his neck and hooked a leg around his and pressed her body against him and rubbed a little. The smell and feel of him made Crissy feel so feminine and also aroused her. The presence of Steve’s erect cock against her body amplified her feelings of femininity; after all it was she who had caused his prodigious organ to bloat.

Steve held her tight and squeezed her buttocks, driving his tongue into her mouth. They kissed and ground against each other as their smouldering ardour ignited into flame. Steve rolled on top of her and smothered Crissy with his kisses. She felt both vulnerable and excited lying under him, feeling his pulsing manhood pressing into her while he kissed her fervently. His fingers were doing things to her legs that felt like a thousand butterflies had escaped and were fluttering their wings on her silken-hosed thighs. When Steve guided her hand to his prodigious erection she took it in hand, feeling the smooth girth of it. It was steely hard but velvety to touch and globules of precum dripped from the eye.

Steve’s hand went down into her crotch and he began to stroke Crissy's cock through her panties which surprised her. It was the first time he had actually handled her penis. He grasped the shaft of her penis through her panties and pantyhose and began to slowly stroke it and Crissy mewled and shuddered under him. Their kisses became more passionate and insistent. Steve slipped his hand inside the waistband of her pantyhose and his fingers found her buttocks and his middle finger circled her sphincter and Crissy baulked.

“I said no anal! I’m not prepared,” she whispered.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m not going to do anything like that,” but Steve’s fingertip continued to circle her sphincter, gently massaging her puckered bud and Crissy wriggled and sighed because it felt so good.

Steve stroked her nylon-sheathed cock and kissed her deeply as he slowly circled her anal cleft, which felt delightful. True to his word he didn’t even try to push his finger inside her. She wasn’t sure if Steve could control himself so she deftly removed his hand from her ass but she smiled at him while she did so.

“Why don’t I use my mouth on you. You’ve been a good boy and you deserve a blowjob,” Crissy amazed herself at how brazen she had become.

She felt almost whorelike.

“I’ve got a better idea,” Steve smiled mischievously at her and with agility that she didn’t know he possessed, he flipped himself around so that his cock was level with her face.

They were suddenly in the sixty-nine position and Steve began to kiss her thighs and Crissy shuddered with delight, then Steve licked her cock through her satin panties and Crissy groaned and then she took Steve’s cock into her mouth and began to suckle it.

She locked her lips around the base of the shaft and traced the veins with her tongue, flicking it over his frenulum and across his bloated glans. The sweet-salty taste of pre-ejaculate permeated her mouth and she groaned around the girth of his cock as Steve ripped a hole in her pantyhose and freed her penis from her panties. When Steve took her in his mouth she was astonished at his audacity.

Steve had never done anything like this. He’d experimented with another guy once when they were out camping. Steve was eighteen and they had jacked each other off and both swore never to speak of it again. This was different on so many levels. He’d received enough blowjobs to know what he liked so he used the same techniques on Crissy. He worked his tongue on Crissy’s sensitive glans while his lips suckled her shaft. Crissy was amazed that Steve was doing what he was doing but it felt wonderful and she reciprocated and began to slaver at Steve’s engorged penis. She held the base between her fingers and sucked and licked the proud member, her other hand found his scrotum and gently squeezed and stroked his testicles. She felt his cock judder and a continuous stream of precum dribbled from his cock which Crissy dutifully tasted and swallowed.

She could sense Steve’s impeding climax as he continued to work her cock with his mouth whilst stroking her thighs and buttocks and as the sensations comingled they invoked a sensory overload. Crissy drummed her heels on the bedspread indicating that she was close to extremis. Steve was close too and he wanted to make Crissy orgasm at the same time as himself and he suckled her shaft and worked his tongue on her glans, swallowing her sweet precum as it dribbled from her cock in a continual stream.

Crissy took the whole of Steve’s phallus into her mouth and suckled it as her fingers softly stroked and gently squeezed his scrotum and finally she was rewarded as Steve’s body convulsed on top of her and her mouth was suddenly flooded with his musky milt. She could feel his cock pulsing as it evacuated the contents of his scrotum into her mouth. She greedily swallowed the sweet, musky nectar whilst Steve continued to slaver at her cock and caress her nylon-sheathed thighs and her satiny pantied buttocks.

Crissy orgasmed and ejaculated into Steve’s mouth. She bucked and writhed under him whilst Steve continued to thrust his cock in and out of Crissy's mouth. They sucked and slavered on each other's organs until they were both spent.

Steve gently sucked Crissy’s cock until every skerrick of her issue was spent and Crissy reciprocated. Suddenly Steve climbed off her, turned around and lay down beside her. He kissed her and she could taste her sperm on his mouth and knew that he tasted his own sperm on hers. His semi-erect cock was pressed against her thigh and felt nice and he stroked her cheek tenderly and she wrapped her arms around him, comforted by his embrace in the afterglow of their orgasms.

“Do you want a drink? I got gin and tonic and there’s ice in the fridge. I got myself a sixpack of Fourex too,” Steve disengaged and climbed off the bed.

“What we just did Steve? Are you okay with that? You didn’t do it out of some sense of obligation did you?” Crissy had to ask.

Steve kissed the tip of her nose.

“I did it because I wanted to. Because I want you to know that I don’t have a problem with who you are. Of course if you tell any of my mates I will stringently deny it,” Steve ended the conversation jovially but Crissy knew the enormity of what had just happened.

Her opinion of Steve changed notably. The idea of him following her to Karumba at first seemed nonsensical and impulsive but now she wasn’t so sure.

While Steve fixed Crissy a drink she disappeared into the bathroom and Steve took a seat at the formica-topped table and popped his beer. He was taking a huge swallow when Crissy emerged from the bathroom dressed in her newly acquired bathing suit. The red lycra one-piece clung to her body showing off her lissom body, rounded buttocks and her nipples. With her tanned body and sun-bleached hair she looked like a young surfer girl. She’d left her makeup on and her face was pretty. Except for the absence of breasts, her body was perfect.

Steve was once again astounded at how she managed to present a perfect VW bonnet pudenda. He’d seen her cock up close and it was substantial.

“Let’s go for a swim,” Crissy smiled at him, reaching for her drink.

“Great idea, give me a sec,” Steve said downing his Fourex and dropping his clouts.

He rummaged around in his bag and produced a pair of Speedos which he shimmied into, his hard gut hanging over them a little.

“You can’t take glass into the pool area but I can take a couple of tinnies,” Steve held up the remains of his six-pack, which he dropped into a mini Esky.

Crissy downed her gin and tonic, grabbed the two complimentary pool towels and padded barefoot towards the door and Steve snatched up his cigarettes and followed her, appreciatively studying her arse in the lycra swimsuit. Their ground floor room opened onto the pathway which led to the pool. Crissy opened the gate and Steve headed to a table shaded by a beach umbrella located well away from a family who were frolicking in the pool.

Steve put the Esky in the shade, dropped his smokes on the table, and dived in the pool, totally disregarding the ‘No Diving’ sign displayed on the pool fence. His big body made a huge splash and the father of the family of four looked their way with a look of disapproval on his face.

“Come on kids, let’s get something to eat,” the daddy herded his tribe together and they gathered their things and left the pool area.

Crissy and Steve had the small pool to themselves and Crissy jumped in and squealed like a schoolgirl as she hit the tepid water. Crissy swam a few laps, glad of the exercise having been cooped up in the cab of the road train for the last few days while Steve got out and put two cans of beer in Styrofoam stubby-holders brought them to the waters edge. They huddled together in the corner of the pool closest to their table, shaded by an overhanging frangipani trees and sipped their beer. A five-petalled white and yellow blossom fell into the pool and Steve plucked it from the water and put it in Crissy’s hair.

“A beautiful flower for a beautiful girl,” he leaned in and kissed her.

Crissy wasn’t sure whether to be concerned or overjoyed by the changes in Steve Kessler over the last couple of days. He’d changed from a man bitterly disappointed that Crissy wasn’t a ‘real Sheila’ to a man who adored her and was content, no that’s not right, he was euphoric about her uniqueness.

“I’ve got to ask… how do you do that,” Steve slipped his hand between her legs and stroked the front of her swimsuit.

“You mean tucking?” Crissy smiled at him cheekily.

“Well you can feel my cock against my taint right?” she guided Steve’s had between her legs.

“It’s wrapped in my empty scrotum. I pushed my testes up inside me, in my inguinal canals. Everything is held in place by my panties and pantyhose or in this case my swimsuit. The tighter the better. That’s why I don’t wear G-strings, I need to keep everything secure,” Crissy smiled at him and was aware that Steve hadn’t removed his hand from between her legs.

“I hate those fucking arse-crack, dental floss undies. I like the type you wear. I like to feel your buttocks through your satin panties,” Steve squeezed a buttock with his free hand.

Steve leaned in close and nuzzled her neck.

“What happens if you get hard?” Steve began to stroke her cock through the swimsuit.

“You know what happens,” Crissy leaned in and kissed him as her penis began to become tumescent.

Steve felt Crissy’s cock begin to engorge and his own cock followed suit and he soon grew a significant bulge in the front of his Speedos. He noticed Crissy wince as her cock began to bloat and he well understood that it must be uncomfortable for her. He slipped his fingers inside the gusset of her swimsuit and freed her cock from between her legs. As he did so he felt her smooth, hairless scrotum suddenly fill as her testes descended. She smiled cheekily at him and kissed him again. Steve covered her package with the swimsuit and Steve softly caressed the outline of her cock through the lycra.

Her hand went to his groin and Crissy fondled Steve’s cock through his Speedos. His cock was fully tumescent and Crissy put her arms and legs around him and kissed him and then dropped one hand so she could stroke his cock.

“People might be watching,” Steve smiled salaciously.

“All they will see is us kissing and cuddling. People do that in public swimming pools all the time. They won’t be able to see what’s happening underwater, especially if we keep our bits inside our cossies,” Crissy squeezed Steve’s cock.

“Jeeze Crissy, you certainly have become brazen,” Steve grinned and began to stroke Crissy’s cock through the lycra.

“I wish we had brought the K-Y with us, the chlorine in this pool is harsh,” Crissy hissed.

“You want me to stop?” Steve swathed Crissy’s cock in the sleek lycra swimsuit fabric and she began to purr.

“Don’t you dare!” Crissy bit down his earlobe to encourage him and wrapped his cock in the nylon/elastane fabric of his Speedos which were looser that Crissy’s swimsuit.

“Keep that up and I’m going to cream my togs,” Steve gasped.

Crissy locked her mouth on Steve’s and inserted her tongue and began to masturbate him through his Speedos while Steve rubbed Crissy’s hard cock through her swimsuit. Steve came first, gasping into Crissy’s mouth as he orgasmed, closely followed by Crissy who wriggled and bucked as she climaxed. Except for the creamy, viscid tendrils that erupted from their swimsuits and drifted away in the water, to anyone looking, it would look like Steve and Crissy were just making out.

“That was naughty,” Crissy giggled.

“Hey you wanna go out tonight? I mean proper out, to a nightclub. I know a great place and even if anyone notices that you’re, well different, they won’t care,” Steve said excitedly.

Yes, Crissy did want to go out. First off, she really wanted to wear the skirt and blouse that Beverley had given her and secondly she was now so comfortable in her own skin that she felt confident enough to present herself in a social atmosphere.

“Where are you taking me?” Crissy still had her arms and legs locked around Steve’s body.

“The House On The Hill. It’s a nightclub and Ted Mulry Gang are playing a gig on their farewell tour,” Steve sounded excited and Crissy didn’t want to disappoint him and tell him that TMG was her father’s favourite band but not hers.

“Sounds great Steve,” Crissy kissed him appreciatively.

“Hey! You two! This is a family environment, if you wanna kiss and cuddle go to your room!” the manager yelled at them from behind the pool fence.

The daddy and his tribe of kids were standing beside the motel manager with smug smiles on their faces.

“Let’s go and have drink and a smoke and then I need a nap,” Steve helped Crissy climb the ladder out of the deep end of the pool.

Crissy had tucked again and there was no evidence of their sexual adventures other than a few wisps of gooey splooge floating towards the skimmer box.

“You should be ashamed of yourself. She’s young enough to be your daughter,” the manger hissed at Steve as he walked past him.

“You're just jealous,” Steve hissed back.

“What did the manager say to you?” Crissy asked as she lit them both a cigarette when they sitting under the shade of the frangipani tree.

“Nothing that matters,” Steve took the proffered cigarette but the comment had shaken him a little.

He took two beers from the Esky and they drank them and watched the family take over the pool again. Another family came through the pool gate and settled at a table not far away from them.

“Time for that nap,” Steve said standing up and gathering their things.

They slept most of the afternoon and into the early evening when Crissy was awakened by Steve who had just come out of the shower. He had a towel around his ample gut and was splashing himself with Old Spice, his ‘out on the town’ clothes were laid out on the bed.

Crissy padded to the bathroom. She showered and took her time perfecting her hair and makeup. Before showering she did what was necessary to ensure that she was ready, knowing Steve would want to fuck her after their night out. She was looking forward to it too. At nineteen years of age her libido was extreme and Steve had opened a whole new world of sexual pursuits that she had come to enjoy. Who would have thought that having a penis slipped into your jacksie could invoke the most powerful orgasms imaginable?

Steve sat on a chair watching, enjoying the spectacle as Crissy took her time dressing, ensuring that her stocking welts were at the same height and the seams were straight before tucking and putting on a pair of translucent black full-cut panties and matching padded brassiere. She buttoned the mauve satin blouse and shimmied into the black pencil skirt, tucking the blouse into the high waist before zipping it closed. The skirt hugged her curves and the 10" back-slit flaunted her thighs and the dark welts of her stockings.

Crissy sprayed herself liberally with Dior Poison perfume. Beverley had popped a sample bottle of the intoxicating fragrance into her shopping bag at Lane’s. She put on her costume jewellery and slipped into her black, patent-leather, four inch stilettos and gave herself the once over. She pirouetted in front of Steve.

“How do I look?” she smiled at him seductively.

“You look so good I’m not so sure I want to take you out,” Steve smiled wanly at her.

“What’s wrong?” Crissy walked over and perched her buttocks on his knees.

“It’s something the hotel manager said to me at the pool. He said that I should be ashamed of myself. That you are young enough to be my daughter,” Steve sighed.

“Hey Steve! I’m an adult and I can make my own decisions. Don’t you think I realise how good I look since Beverley helped me in Mackay? I’ve seen the appreciative glances and leering. But as much as I’m flattered, I choose you. You’re the one who stuck with me, even when I was really just a boy in a skirt wearing sloppy makeup,” Crissy tousled his hair.

“I pretty much blackmailed you into having sex with me,” Steve admitted.

“And I made the decision to agree to that. I could have dumped you as soon as we arrived in Cairns and found another man to take to me to Karumba, I’m sure I could do that if I wanted but I chose to stay with you. I didn’t tell you to fuck off when you proposed moving to Karumba so you could be with me. I appreciate all you are giving up,” Crissy kissed the side of his mouth.

“All I’m giving up? A dead-end job driving trucks up and down the east coast, paying for sex with truckstop lot-lizards, getting old and fat?” Steve chuckled.

“You're thirty-five and good looking in a ruggedly handsome older Sean Connery kinda way. Except you have more hair than him of course,” Crissy mussed Steve’s hair, kissed his cheek and hopped off his lap.

“I didn’t get dressed like this to sit around a hotel room, so call us a fucking cab and let’s go to this nightclub,” Crissy crammed makeup, cigarettes and some cash into her little black clutch.

Steve picked up the phone and called Black and White Taxis and Crissy took his hand they walked out front of the hotel to wait for their ride. Steve was wearing jeans and a Miller western shirt with black boots and looked every inch the trucker that he was. He looked masculine and presentable and Crissy felt her attraction to him growing a little and more importantly she felt safe in his presence. He looked like a man not to be fucked with.

The House On The Hill was in full swing when they got there. Lights spilled out into the gardens and a wall of sound reverberated around the surrounding streets. To paraphrase Spinal Tap, Ted Mulry Gang had their amplifiers ‘turned up to eleven’ and were pounding out their old hits.

The crowd spilled out into the gardens and onto the street. They were an eclectic bunch of older rockers and young partygoers, dressed in everything from beachwear to finery. An undercurrent of marijuana mingled with the cigarette smoke. Steve fought his way to the bar where you could order whatever you wanted but most people ordered jugs of the ubiquitous XXXX Beer, or ‘Fourex’ as it known colloquially, or jugs of cane cutter’s cordial which is Bundaberg Rum and Coke. Steve ordered a jug of Bundy and Coke, took two plastic glasses and hauled Crissy through the crowd to a corner where at least you could hear yourself speak.

Within minutes of their arrival guys were approaching Crissy and asking her to dance but she politely declined the offers. She drank three glasses of Bundy in quick succession but Steve was taking his time. He did not want to be affected by brewer’s droop when they got back to the motel.

“Go and have a dance Crissy, don’t let me cramp your style. So long as you come home with me, I don’t mind one little bit,” Steve yelled in her ear over the music.

He had been watching Crissy sway her body and tap her feet to the music. The pop-rock of TMG might have been dated for someone Crissy’s age but the beat was infectious.

Crissy accepted the next offer she had to dance and Steve watched her merge into the throng of bodies stomping on the dancefloor. He kept a wary eye on her as she danced, moving from partner to partner, never settling with one guys for too long. Steve brought another jug of Bundy and Coke and Crissy came over and quickly drank another two glasses before returning to the dance floor and mingling with the crowd. She was now becoming inebriated but so were most of the crowd.

Crissy was having the time of her life. She was out and about for the first time socialising as her feminine self, her confidence building. She was enjoying the experience, the alcohol fuelling her gaiety and lowering her inhibitions. They had been there for a couple hours and Steve relaxed a little and struck up a conversation with another guy around his age. He still kept glancing over at Crissy but she seemed to be having a good time without him and that was fine but suddenly things got out of hand.

Crissy was surrounded by four young men who were dancing around her. TMG’s style of music encouraged ‘the stomp’ style of dancing and it was not unusual for people to dance in groups but Steve wondered if Crissy realised that the young men had effectively surrounded her. Ted Mulry announced that the band would be taking a short interval and the band fired up their break song which was the lewd version of Dinah, Dinah Show us your Leg.

The boys surrounding Crissy began to chant the words along with the band… Dinah, Dinah show us your leg, Dinah, Dinah show us your leg, Dinah, Dinah show us your leg… a yard above your knee. while Crissy, now quite intoxicated, began to slowly raise the hem of her skirt. Some of the other girls on the dancefloor were doing the same and at first it was no big deal then Steve saw the boys close in on Crissy.

They became very excited as Crissy gradually raised the hem of her skirt high enough to show off her stocking-tops and garters. Then one of the young men reached out and put his hand under her skirt and made a grab for her crotch.

Steve was pushing his way through the crowd when he saw the young man’s facial expression suddenly change from desire, to confusion then to anger and he heard the boy yell something obscene which was lost in the cacophony of music and chanting but included the words ‘tranny’ and ‘cunt’ and then the lad pushed Crissy to the ground and the other young men closed in, looking to kick Crissy whilst she was on the floor.

Steve decked the boy who had pushed Crissy over with a roundhouse punch and then flattened his mate with an uppercut. The other two young men backed off when they saw the anger in Steve’s face. Steve helped Crissy to her feet and manhandled her over to their table where he shoved her purse into her hands and began to bulldoze his way through the crowd with Crissy in tow whilst the bouncers closed in on them.

He and Crissy made it to the door and bolted down the steps and ran off into the tropical gardens surrounding the venue. Far from being upset, Crissy was laughing and Steve pulled her into a grove of fig trees, looking back over his shoulder to see if the bouncers had followed them.

“That was pretty fucking stupid!” Steve displayed anger for the first time.

But Crissy was far from being angry. Steve coming to her rescue and punching out the men who were going to assault her had turned her on.

“You're my hero!” Crissy threw herself at Steve and wrapped her arms and legs around him.

Crissy might have been diminutive but she caught Steve by surprise and he fell into the hollowed out trunk of a strangler fig. Crissy smashed her lips against his and kissed him fervently. She tasted of rum, Coca-Cola and cigarettes. She snatched at his trousers fumbling with his belt buckle and fly.

“What the fuck Crissy? We’re in someone’s garden and the bouncers might still be looking for me,” Steve broke the kiss but Crissy still clung to him.

“Shut up and fuck me Steve. No one can see us here and who gives a fuck if they can, I’ve never felt so horny,” Crissy reached into his jeans and freed his member.

Crissy might have been drunk and behaving badly but she looked sexy as hell and clinging to him like that, with her skirt hiked up, her stocking-clad legs wrapped around him, her hot sweet mouth on his and her fingers ferreting around in his crotch, Steve’s anger dissipated and was replaced by lust. He supported her weight by gripping her upper thighs and pushed her back into the hollow while she pawed at his tackle, inciting a very strong erection.

“We don’t have any lube,” Steve grunted as Crissy wriggled against him, moaning like a slattern.

“Improvise Steve. Spit on your hand or something. I want you and I want you now!” Crissy bit down on his earlobe which hurt a little but incited his lust.

He let go of Crissy’s leg, spat in his hand and pushed Crissy’s hand away from his groin so he could work the spittle into his hard shaft. Crissy clawed at his cock, which was wet with spit and precum. She guided it inside the leghole of her panties. Steve put his hand back on her thigh and supported her weight, pressing his body into her, her hungry mouth locked on his. He could feel her cock distending her panties which were wet from her precum.

Crissy nestled the glans of Steve’s penis against her sphincter and screwed her eyes shut as Steve pushed hard and impaled her on his steely rod. It slid into her, stretching her sphincter and dilating her tight anus, the spit providing hardly any lubrication but Crissy locked her legs and arms tighter around Steve and took the pain.

The burning in Crissy’s anus became a painful erotic distraction as her pleasure receptors lit up. Her sphincter ringed with a bitter fiery sensation as Steve’s cock stretched it open and a dull ache radiated from her anus when Steve was fully inside her. Steve’s belly pressed against her panty-shrouded penis and a warm, delicious glow began to radiate from her prostate as Steve began to fuck her, his pre-ejaculate finally providing the lubrication needed so that he could ram his cock in and out of her tight asshole.

With her back pressed against the tree and her legs locked around his waist, Steve was able to free his hands and cup Crissy’s buttocks as he began to viciously fuck her. The whole crazy evening incited his ardour and he smashed his lips against Crissy’s mouth, drove his tongue into her and began to pummel her anal sheath with his rampant member.

Crissy screamed into his mouth, part pleasure – part pain, as Steve’s cock assaulted her tight anal chamber, her rectum dilating to accept his swollen limb, the sensitive nerves in her prostate ignited and infused her lower body with a tingling climactic resonance that joined with the aching circlets of delight that emanated from her penis as Steve’s belly rubbed against it, her satin panties creating a frisson that induced an earth-shattering orgasm.

Steve felt Crissy begin to convulse and he jackhammered his cock in and out of her tight rectum as his own orgasm erupted. They clung to each other, scratching, biting and clawing at each other as Steve pummelled her asshole and Crissy shook like a moppet as her body became afire with a cataclysmic climax. She creamed her panties, her cock juddering as she felt Steve’s cock pulsating inside her, filling her anus with his juices which overflowed and ran down her thighs.

Steve ripped his cock from Crissy’s hole and let her fall to her feet exhausted. She bent over to catch her breath, holding her skirt away from her body so that her semen and Steve’s spunk wouldn’t stain it. She snatched at her purse and found her little packet of tissues and ripped a handful out of the sachet and dabbed at her thighs and the front of her panties, the tissue soaking up the splooge.

“Now that’s very ladylike,” Steve jested as he buckled his pants and searched his pockets for his cigarettes.

“Shut up! You loved it. Now take me home, my knight in shining armour, and I might let you go again but this time not as brutal,” Crissy snatched the cigarette from Steve’s grasp and chuffed on it.

Crissy straightened her clothing and Steve put his arm around her and led her to a path which eventually came out one street over from The House On The Hill. Steve hailed a taxi and by the time they arrived at the Cairns City Motel Crissy was fast asleep. The booze had caught up with her and the promise of further sexual congress was no longer on the table. Steve undressed her as best he could and put her to bed than he stripped and climbed in beside her and was asleep in seconds.

The next day Crissy was curled up in the cab of a clunky old truck while Steve drove along the Savannah Way climbing up through the tablelands, concentrating on the tricky road. She had woke up hungover and just about managed hold down a cup of coffee before Steve loaded her and her belongings into the truck. She had brushed her teeth but hadn’t showered and still had her makeup on from last night which was now smeared and kinda sexy but Steve had no time for sex.

Crissy had changed her panties and shucked into cutoff short-shorts, a tank top and sandals. The old truck did not have a sleeper and Crissy tried to sleep in the passenger seat but Steve made a game of purposely hitting a pothole now and then just as she nodded off.

“You're doing that on purpose,” Crissy whined.

“No I’m not. You're just hungover and grumpy,” Steve chuckled.

“And my arse hurts,” Crissy said balefully.

“Well, whose fault is that? You wanted it up against the tree with no lube,” Steve replied.

“You loved it,” Crissy yawned and tried to go back to sleep.

When the truck passed over the range the road became better and Steve let her sleep.

Steve pulled over at a service station in Normanton and Crissy was able to take a shower, freshen up and change into a skirt and blouse. She still wore her sandals and much to Steve’s disappointment didn’t put on pantyhose.

“It’s too hot for nylons,” Crissy explained.

“Ok. Let’s go have a beer at The Purple Pub before we hit the road. A hair of the dog will fix you right up,” Steve said pulling up next to the quaint old building that someone for some reason had decided to paint purple years ago, and the name stuck.

The cold lager was refreshing and Crissy received quite a few appreciative glances from locals and tourists alike but she was keen to get to Karumba and finally meet up with Aunt Greta.

They pulled into the incongruously named Paradise Caravan Park and Lodgings at Karumba just before sunset and Steve dropped Crissy off while he took the truck to the depot to be unloaded.

Greta Doyle was wearing a shapeless housedress and rubber thongs. Her hair looked a little wild and her face was bare of makeup but there was no doubt that under the sack like dress there was a voluptuous figure and her legs were shapely. She was a goodlooking woman who would look stunning when she was spruced up.

Greta opened her arms and hugged Crissy who was apprehensive about meeting her auntie for the first time presenting as a girl. She had only fleeting memories of her father’s sister from when Christian was young boy.

“Well aren't you the pretty little thing,” Greta smiled at her niece who until recently had been her nephew.

“So you're Crissy now, well that’s fine by me. Billy and I got into a real kerfuffle when he told me about your antics. Your mother and I always suspected that you were different,” Greta held Crissy at arm’s length and studied her.

“Yeah, it’s Cristiana but I shorten it to Crissy. I have finally found my true self,” Crissy gave a wan smile.

“So I can stay here and you have a job for me? You asked if Steve was the jealous type Aunt Greta, what was that about?” Crissy asked.

“Of course you can stay and yes I have a job for you and the prospect of maybe earing a lot of money but let’s not talk about that now. Let me show you around and get you settled. I have a van put aside for your truckie friend,” Greta took Crissy’s hand in hers.

“And Greta will do; drop the auntie if you please,” Greta picked up Crissy’s duffel with her other hand and Crissy gathered the rest of her belongings.

Paradise Caravan Park and Lodgings were hardly paradisical. The large flat plot of sparsely grassed land was divided into sections. One area was a campsite, another area was set aside for those towing their own caravans and trailer homes, one of the largest sections was dotted with onsite caravans and another area was populated with shipping containers that had been converted into cabins. The areas were accessed by well-kept dirt roads lined with white-painted rocks. Each area had its own ablutions block, picnic area, outdoor BBQ and all of the sites were powered.

Greta led Crissy to a cul-de-sac located away from the main grounds, next to the site office. Greta lived in a large, rather luxurious Millard static caravan surrounded by a white picket fence and rock garden. Beside it were four of the converted shipping containers known locally as ‘Container Cabins’.

“You're in the one closest to me,” Greta led Crissy to one of the structures which featured a tiny patio with outdoor furniture.

Inside they were met by a blast of cold air from the wall mounted box air conditioner. It was basically a tiny one room apartment with a tinier ensuite bathroom. It was sparsely but comfortably furnished and even had a minifridge and stovetop.

“This is lovely,” Crissy dropped her shopping bags on the bed and Greta put her duffle on the table.

“So what’s this job you have for me?” Crissy sat down at the two-seater table and Greta sat across from her.

“Well… I am prepared to employ you in a housekeeper position basically performing the same functions as a housemaid in a hotel but of course here at The Park,” Crissy would soon come to realise that everyone referred to the caravan park and lodgings as ‘The Park’ or ‘Greta’s Park’.

“My clientele is a mixed bag of local workers, fishermen, itinerants and tourists. I get a lot of grey nomads travelling the country, living off the grid in their retirement,” Greta explained.

“But what has that got to do with whether or not Steve is the jealous type?” Crissy asked.

“Look freshen up and put on something decent. Make yourself look pretty but don’t go overboard, this is Karumba not Melbourne. We’ll go down to the pub for a drink and discuss it,” Greta got up from her seat.

“I’ll give you an hour or so to settle in, unpack and get ready. See you soon,” Greta let herself out.

Still without an answer to her question Crissy did as she was told. She was eternally grateful that Greta accepted her for who and what she was and for offering her a place to stay and a job. Greta picked Crissy up as arranged and they walked to the local watering hole.

Crissy and Greta sat on stools on a table outside in the beer garden. Greta was greeted by almost every person they passed when they entered the world-famous Animal Bar. It was a small town and just about everybody knew everybody else.

“This place opened in 1974 and back in those days every bit of furniture was bolted to the floor, including the ashtrays. It’s not quite as rough as it used to be but it can still get a bit boisterous. Bluey Benwell once threw a crocodile at the barmaid when she cut off his beer. It was only a baby croc though, not a big one,” Greta reached for her cigarettes.

Crissy looked around the graffiti-covered pub walls and at the rough-looking clientele, mostly prawn fishermen and labourers. There were a couple of local women in the pub but besides the barmaids the only other women were grey nomads. The scrawny, sun-bronzed, mostly bearded men, dressed in ratty shorts, tank tops and thongs eyed the women covetously.

Crissy was wearing a black short skirt and plain cotton top. The evening was cool so she had worn fleshtone pantyhose with her cork-soled platform sandals. Her makeup was not as heavy as usual but her eyes were enhanced with eyeliner and mascara and she wore matte red lipstick. Greta too wore nylons, black control top pantyhose, with a figure-hugging red dress and low heels. She too wore makeup and her true beauty and voluptuous figure were now evident.

“Can I get you a drink?” Crissy asked.

“Don’t be silly my girl. Just wait a minute,” Greta said as she lit a cigarette.

Sure enough one of the fisherman came over to their table carrying two schooners of ice-cold beer.

“There you go ladies,” he grinned at them with a gap-toothed smile.

“Thanks Wakka,” Greta smiled back at him and nodded at him to keep walking.

“Skipper of a prawn trawler. Nice bloke once you get to know him,” Greta answered the unasked question.

“Single ladies never buy their own drinks at the Animal Bar,” Greta winked at her niece.

“So many men here but they're all on the rough side,” Crissy commented.

“Fishermen, miners and labourers. This is the only hangout in town. All those men are cashed up and you know what they want? Booze and sex,” Greta answered her own question.

“Which brings me to your other question. I’ve don’t know how much you know about me but I’ve lived a somewhat colourful, knockabout sort of life. I’ve done everything from being a barmaid, a bus driver, a jillaroo and at one time I was a lady of the night,” Greta explained.

“I scraped up enough savings to buy the caravan park here and immediately saw the potential to make more money. To put it bluntly I do a bit of smuggling but I also run the only whorehouse in Karumba. Just a four girls working out of the container cabins next to reception,” Greta paused to take a drink and let her announcement settle in.

“You want be to become a prostitute?” Crissy was shocked.

“I’m not asking you to do anything. I’m making a business proposition. The last transsexual I had working for me was an island girl from Thursday Island; big girl with real tits and a big cock. She was very popular and made enough money to piss off to the Philippines to get surgery. She’s getting married and won’t be coming back,” Greta lit another cigarette.

“So you see I have vacancy for that type of girl. I have a bunch of women in Cairns who rotate through here on six week stints, two at a time, but I don’t have a trans girl now and trans girls are very popular,” Greta explained.

“What kind of women do that type of work?” Crissy asked, somewhat intrigued.

“Two of my girls are married housewives whose husbands approve of them working the trade but only up here away from home. Another one is a spinster who teaches Sunday School. All type of women work in the sex trade,” Greta took a drag on her cigarette.

“Lucy, the TI trans girl, lived here in Karumba fulltime in that container cabin you’re in now. There’s a shit-ton of money in it if you're up for it but if you would rather clean the shitters and showers in the ablutions blocks, pick up after assholes at the picnic tables and make beds in the onsite rentals you're welcome to do that. Also you would have to move out of that cabin. Those four cabins are for my working girls. Working as a pros isn’t for everyone though,” Greta looked Crissy in the eye to register her interest but Crissy’s eyes were blank because she was stunned.

Just then Wakka came back over and interrupted them.

“Are you working tonight Greta?” he asked.

“No. Rachel and Gloria are working tonight,” Greta replied but didn’t take her eyes off Crissy.

“What about this one?” Wakka nodded at Crissy.

“She’s not doing that type of work Wakka,” Greta replied.

Crissy was ruminating on what Aunt Greta had said. She had latched onto the statement ‘there’s a shit-ton of money in it if you're up for it’. Crissy had been told by her father ‘go find yourself a fucking job and support yourself. You can go and suck cocks for a living in Kings Cross for all I care’. Kurumba was as far from Kings Cross as you could possibly get but her aunty had offered her job doing exactly what Crissy’s father had disdainfully proposed.

“Not tonight. I start tomorrow and clean yourself up a bit before you come,” Crissy addressed Wakka who gave Crissy a gap-toothed grin and walked away happy.

It was Greta’s turn to be stunned.

“You really want to do this Crissy?” she reached out and took Crissy’s hand.

“We have all day tomorrow for you to show me the ropes. I want the money and over that last few days I have discovered that I really like sex so why not?” Crissy took a long pull on her schooner.

“It’s not a job you do because you like the sex not that there is anything wrong with enjoying yourself with the right customer. Look around the pub Crissy; these are the sort of men that you would be servicing,” Greta nodded at the rough looking men drinking in groups around the Animal Bar.

“You haven’t met Steve. He’s no film star, although I once told him he looks a bit like Sean Connery… The Highlander Sean, not the James Bond one,” Crissy giggled.

“Speaking of which… what are you going to tell him?” Greta finished her schooner and reached for her cigarettes.

“You said that two of the girls that work for you are married. Steve and I haven’t really decided what our relationship is or even if it is a relationship. He doesn’t really have a dog in the fight,” Crissy said gruffly but Greta could tell that Crissy was concerned.

“You told me that he gave up his job in Sydney to drive trucks on the Cairns-Karumba route so he could be with you. He will be living on the caravan park. It’s more complicated than you are saying,” another fisherman suddenly appeared with two icy-cold beers, nodded at them both and left.

Greta watched the man return to a group of men gathered at a table near the bar. Wakka was part of the group and was he was talking animatedly with the others and they kept looking over their way. Word was getting out that Greta had a pretty young tranny about to join her stable.

Crissy picked up her beer, taking her time formulating an answer.

“I tell you what. Don’t tell him anything. I’ll tell him. I want to talk to him about some other business anyway,” Greta patted Crissy’s hand.

“Speak of the devil. Here he is now. Steve’s large frame was jostling through the crowd. He was carrying a schooner of beer and two gin and tonics in his large pawlike hands.

“You must be Aunt Greta,” Steve smiled at Greta as he put the drinks down on the table.

“Just Greta, Steve. So you're the one who has corrupted my niece. Now sit here beside me and tell me all about yourself,” Greta smiled at him and patted the stool beside her.

“She corrupted me is more like it,” Steve grinned at Greta.

Crissy could sense a chemistry between her aunt and her lover already.

Steve told Greta his life story, emphasising that he was single now that Sandy had divorced him.

“These so called truckstop lot-lizards you fuck. They’re prostitutes right? How did you feel about that?” Greta asked.

Steve was a bit flummoxed by the question but he answered honestly.

“Every woman has the right to whatever she wants with her body. If they want to make money selling their bodies, who am I to take their inventories?” Steve replied.

“Good answer Steve. You're returning to Cairns again tomorrow?” Greta asked.

“Yeah. I’m taking a load back then I’ll fly down to Sydney to pack up and drive back up here. The company has found me a cheap room in Cairns but I’ll be based out of here, driving the route back and forth on alternate days so I’ll be here every second night and I get four days off a fortnight. It’s a sweet deal,” Steve grinned proudly at his own negotiation skills.

“All right, that’s probably enough booze for a school night. Walk us ladies back to The Park and come over to my van and I’ll give you the key to yours and we can talk about rent and so on,” Greta got up off her stool and Steve politely moved it out of the way for her.

“Good to see you are a gentleman,” Greta commented.

Back at The Park, Crissy made her way over to her cabin after kissing Steve goodnight. She was a little drunk and after the big night previously at The House On The Hill all she was interested in was sleep. She was glad that Greta was going to tell Steve about her new job but she was interested in how he might react. Was he the jealous type after all?

“Take a seat. I’d offer you a drink but you are driving tomorrow. I have a couple of things I’d like to discuss with you. Three things actually but they are all interrelated,” Greta patted the space beside her where she had parked herself on the couch.

Steve was impressed with Greta’s Millard classic 22-foot caravan. It was a lot bigger inside than it looked from the outside and it was sumptuously appointed. More like a small house than a caravan.

“I’ll just get it out there. I run a couple of girls out of The Park, you know what I mean by that?” Greta launched into it as soon as Steve was settled.

“I know. I told my boss that I had rented a caravan here and he told what goes on. Apparently it’s an open secret,” Steve looked down at his hands as if he knew what was coming.

“Crissy want’s to work here doing… well you know, as a lady of the night if I can put it politely. I’ll just say upfront that I didn’t coerce her in any way. I told her that I had a position open and that it pays well,” Greta explained.

“Look, Crissy and I have only just met. I’d like to think that we have some kind of relationship beyond the sex but she’s her own woman now. In a way I’d like to think that I somehow contributed to her finding out who she really is but she’s old enough to make her own decisions,” Steve sighed.

“I’m glad you feel that way about but there’s more to it. I’d like you and Crissy to be open about your relationship. This is a one-cop town with a lot of rough guys who drink a lot and fight a lot and many of them have shady backgrounds. That’s why they are up here in the top end,” Greta reached for her cigarettes.

“If it gets around that you are Crissy’s boyfriend, she’ll be a lot safer. No one is going to fuck with her knowing they will have to answer to you. Secondly, with you living on The Park, even though you will only be here every second night, except for your days off of course when you will be here fulltime, the clientele will assume that you are looking out for me and my girls by your association with my niece,” Greta lit two cigarettes and gave one to Steve.

“You want me to pimp?” Steve didn’t look happy.

“No, far from it. I don’t want you to have anything to do with that side of the business but just your presence here and association with Crissy will have a calming effect. I have other businesses along those lines I want to discuss with you,” Greta paused to gauge Steve’s reaction.

“Go on,” he took a drag on his smoke.

“I had deal with you predecessor. I acquire certain items from Indonesia that are transhipped at sea from Indonesian fishing boats onto Aussie fishing boats. The skippers bring said items to me and I pay them for their work. Your predecessor would then transport said items to Cairns and hand them over to my contact there. To paraphrase your girlfriend; ‘there’s a shit-ton of money in it if you're up for it’”, Greta studied Steve’s face.

“My boss doesn’t know about that, right? What about the cops?” Steve asked.

“Nobody knows except for a couple of skippers who I trust implicitly. As for Dave Dillon, the local Senior Constable, let’s just say I have an arrangement with him,” Greta smiled.

“What kind of arrangement?” Steve asked.

“Well his missus is a bit of a stuck up prude who hates the fact that Dave is posted here. She’s more at home in the city and she goes down to Cairns every month or so and then flies to Melbourne to be with her mother and her stuck-up friends for a week or so. I sneak around to the copper’s house on a few nights while she’s away and do all the things his wife won’t. For that he turns a blind eye to me and my girls. He knows that if I didn’t have my operation someone else would fill the niche and it might be someone unsavoury rather than a sweet middle-aged lady like me,” she patted Steve’s thigh.

“As for the smuggling. He says he has enough on his plate to worry about than to have to deal with something that is essentially a job for Customs. It helps that I slip him a little money every now and then; his missus has extravagant tastes,” Greta smiled wryly.

“So he’s the only guy in the world who gets visited by a prostitute and she pays him,” Steve chuckled.

“I’m more of a Madam now but I fill in now and then if one of my girls gets crook or it gets too busy,” Greta’s hand sneaked further along Steve’s thigh.

“And how much are you gonna pay me,” Steve would not be distracted by Gerta’s fumbling attempt at seduction.

“Well for starters you can have the caravan gratis,” Greta said and then she told him how much he would be paid for each run.

Steve whistled softly.

“Any other fringe benefits. Something similar to Senior Constable Dillon?” Steve put his hand on Greta’s thigh and smiled wickedly.

“Sure. Why not. It’s only pussy and I sell it all the time,” she put her hand over his and dragged it further up her thigh.

“I’d like a taste now. Crissy is asleep and I’m horny,” Steve was upfront about his desires.

“Sure, why not. I wouldn’t mind a quickie before I go to bed,” Greta backed onto the couch and Steve closed in on her.

He kissed her deeply, tasting her lipstick and inhaling her perfume while his hands explored her curvaceous body. He squeezed her breasts through her dress and Greta obligingly pulled down the shoulder straps of her dress exposing a well-worn white satin and lace brassiere, the cups filled with her silky white flesh, the dark areolas and pink nipples visible through the sheer fabric. Her nipples were hard.

Whilst fucking Crissy was a joy, Steve did miss having an ample bosom to play with and Greta certainly had that. Steve freed her paps from the cups her brassiere and suckled them, alternating between the fat bloated nipples. Greta unbuckled Steve’s belt and tugged at his shorts and Steve unzipped his fly and kicked them off, along with his underpants, kicked off his shoes and went back to suckling Greta’s nipples. She mussed his hair and guided his mouth from teat to teat.

Greta took one of his hands in hers and guided his hand down her body and slipped his fingers under the hem of her dress and he caressed her thighs. He adored the feel of her gossamer pantyhose, then he found the control-top which was silky and tight against her mound and slightly paunchy belly.

Greta shuddered and her tongue slid into his mouth, further igniting Steve’s passion and he sought her cleft and he could feel the mound of her pubis through her pantyhose and the panties she wore underneath. Greta’s labial slit was already a little damp. He pressed a finger into her cleft and parted her vulva and Greta gasped as Steve’s fingertips pressed the slinky nylon and satin against her clitoris. Steve wished that Greta wore her panties over her pantyhose like Crissy did so he could pull them down whilst leaving on her pantyhose but it was nice to be playing with a cunt again.

Greta reached for Steve’s rod and found it steely-hard, the velvety skin of the shaft lined with pulsing veins, the mushroomed glans soft and yielding and dribbling pre-ejaculate. She scooped up the precious dewy droplets and massaged them into his quivering phallus. Steve kissed her passionately and rubbed at her slit a little harder, the sweet tang of vaginal juices rising from her crotch.

Greta reclined on the couch pulling Steve down with her. His big cock pressed into her belly whilst his fingers slid inside the waistband of her pantyhose and panties and he parted her labia and slid two fingers inside her warm, buttery cunt and pressed his thumb on her clitoris. Greta groaned and pulled his face to hers and kissed him deeply.

"Put it in me Steve, let’s not take all night about this," she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her undergarments, endeavouring to pull them down.

“Leave them on. Crissy knows I love to fuck her while she’s wearing pantyhose and now so do you,” Steve smiled down wantonly at Greta.

“But how are you going to…” Greta was going to ask how Steve intended to fuck her but Steve answered her question by pushing a fingernail into the gusset of her control-top pantyhose and made a little hole.

“Oh, now I see. The punters quite often ask me and my girls to wear stockings but this is the first time I’ve been fucked in pantyhose,” Greta giggled a little.

She guided Steve's cock through the little hole in her pantyhose and inside the gusset of her panties and nestled it in her dewy labia. Steve pushed Greta down into the couch and drove his engorged phallus into her steamy quim. Greta locked her legs around him and scissored them, knowing that the feel of her pantyhose on his flesh would drive him wild. She put her hands inside his shirt and raked his muscled shoulders.

Steve fucked Greta with long slow strokes, feeling her cunt cling to his manhood as he withdrew it and then drove it back inside her all the way, grinding his pubis into hers so that her clitoris was stimulated. Greta was a voluptuous woman and Steve enjoyed riding her, her body was so different to Crissy’s. Greta had big juicy breasts, an ample belly, buxom buttocks and was very curvy and she kissed like a succubus trying to extract his essences. Her cunt was juicy and a little sloppy but it was warm and inviting and her labia clung to the shaft of his penis as drove it in and out of her musty hole. He made sure that his pelvis pressed against her clitoris as he fucked her.

Suddenly Greta howled into his mouth and wrapped her arms and legs around him and pulled him close as she shuddered and mewled and moaned as her climax peaked. Steve drove his cock all the way inside her and released his issue deep in her vagina as it spasmed around his swollen member.

They clung to each other in the afterglow of their orgasm until Greta became impatient.

“Ok, get off me you big lunk,” she playfully pressed against him and Steve’s deflating cock slid out of her sloppy maw.

Her panties and pantyhose caught the small river of jism that dribbled from her cunt.

“Do I tell Crissy about this?” Steve asked.

Greta considered her answer before replying.

To be continued…