“Oh dear I’m a mess.” Angel giggled looking at the spatters of cum on her tits. “I have it in my hair too. I’ll have to bathe somewhere.”...She said collecting the gobs of cum with her fingers. Half-asleep on his back, Stripe groaned opening one eye. “There is a steam a ways that way.” He said waving a hand toward the path. “Thank you.” Angel bubbled in a cheery voice. Then she looked at his much-depleted limp cock. “Are you sure you don’t have anymore?” Stripe groaned again. “Not for at least. They seem to think that atransvestite, particularly a blonde, could not possibly have a mind ofher own. I have come to accept that. Even in gay clubs, they addresstheir conversation to you. More than once, men wanting to dance haveasked your permission instead of speaking directly to me. I do not mind.It saves me the trouble of asking you myself.Some people even say the most insensitive things while I stand rightthere. A handsome man chatting with you at a bar once remarked, "She issuch a. More

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