It would sure be a shame if you were a cute, short-to-average-height cuntgirl in a crowded Lesbian bar, when some random Trans fem… like let’s say, a tall, curvy Trans Femme Dyke with all the confidence of any top you’ve ever met, locks eyes with you and approaches you. She’s wearing dark grey slacks, suspenders that frame her boobs really well, and a super cropped white tank top that says “Wanna kiss?” across her tits in brightly-colored permanent marker. The words seem to take on a subtle glow from the ambient blacklight behind the bar…
And then, this tall, curvy Trans Femme Dyke with wavy pitch-black hair leans forward, extending an arm above you to lean on the wall behind. You can’t help but notice that your face is on the same level as her tits, as she says in a kind of mid-range growl that evokes the low notes of a violin...
“Do you like tall women?”
And it would be even more of a shame if you started to experience such intense feelings of gay panic that you can only nod in intimidation as you stare up into this woman’s piercing, mesmerizing gaze… It almost feels like she somehow just knows that you’re starting to feel just a little. bit. damp.
And wouldn’t it just be SUCH a TRAGEDY if this very bold and direct Trans Femme Dyke then reached down with her other hand, and ever-so-gently grasped you by the chin, leaned down, got her face closer to yours and softly asked…
You nod again, slowly enough that she doesn’t feel the need to tighten her extremely delicate grip on your chin. Instead, she just continues staring you right in the eye, like you’re the prey she didn’t even have to hunt for. And she slowly begins to smirk.
Then this deliciously intimidating Trans Femme Dyke, with a full beat of makeup and pillowy, delicate lips, begins to slowly lean in even further toward your face... Her hand leaves the wall, deftly pulling off her glasses and tucking them away, before it wraps tenderly around the small of your back, her other hand gently tilting your face upward by the chin before moving to the side of your face, resting there just as her lovely lips connect with yours.
…It’s over. How did she know tall Trans girls with all the confidence in the world were my weakness?
And MY GOD, she’s a good kisser…
And before you know it, it’s all you can do to refrain from wondering about her girldick. The way she approached you, she probably isn’t too bothered by using it… at least, you find yourself hoping that’s the case. You wonder what it looks like… how she smells… how she tastes… how she might feel sliding into you…
No! We don’t fuck people we just met anymore!! That was my rule! My promise to myself! Don’t think about that!
Your thoughts are disrupted as you feel her gently guiding you backward, and your back now presses up against the wall she had been leaning on. She continues to make out with you, her lips hungry for yours, your mouth instinctively opening for her tongue without so much as a thought.
You begin to let out a few quiet, whimpering moans between breaths. A moment later she does the same, in her lower, more resonant register that ever-so-slightly reverberates her lips as well as yours.
She takes your enthusiasm as a cue to do a little bit more, to see what you might let her get away with in a crowded bar…
…So she does the knee thing.
Only for her, because of your small stature by comparison, it’s accomplished with the side of her calf.
You can feel her leg begin to gently push between your thighs, guiding your legs apart just slightly. And your heart races.
And before you know it, her leg is slowly and subtly moving up and down between your thighs. It doesn’t attract as much attention as the making out does, if only because she’s bending down to make out with you in the first place. Nobody takes note of the movements her leg is making, because of course one leg is extended forward a little bit more than the other. After all, she’s got to maintain her balance while making out with a short, slutty cuntgirl like you… it’s not conspicuous that she’s standing with one leg forward and one leg back… And besides, her slacks are black, and the bar is dark…
But you don’t see or think about any of that. Because you can’t think. Because your head went empty the moment her leg made contact with your now-soaking, needy, fucking slutty cunt. All you can do is experience. All you want is to continue feeling. All you can feel… is need.
She pulls away from the kiss, keeping one arm around your waste, and the other moves back to the wall to support herself better.
God, why is it so hot when she leans over me like that??
She looks you dead in the eye.
Her leg has not stopped moving.
You know exactly what she wants.
And she clearly knows exactly what you want too… Your bashful but wanton expression gives you away completely. And you don’t even care that it has.
She removes her arm from your waste, slowly closing a firm but measured grasp around one of your hands, much smaller than her own — her hands are so big but so soft! — and with a subtle nod, she gestures toward the exit before turning around and beginning to walk, beckoning… no, compelling you to go with her.
As you gleefully follow, it occurs to you that you don’t even know the name of this tall, curvy Trans Femme Dyke who’s leading you by the hand toward the exit. And the thought only excites you more. You turn to your friends and blow them a kiss. They smile, having predicted this the instant they saw the look on your face when she first approached you.
And now that they know you’re leaving, the only thing on your mind is the way it felt when her delicious tongue filled your mouth…
…and exactly what you want her to fill it with next.
