I stood at the check in desk waiting for the woman in front of me to be served she turned slightly as I approached. She was in her late twenties. Dark...brown hair and piercing green eyes. Her lips were full and plump, her breasts were big and round, definitely fake. Her body appeared toned and her ass was full and round, enhanced by the skin tight black jeans. Her arms were covered in tattoos. I kept glancing at her as she was dealing with the receptionist. Her nipples were hard and poking. He could feel her tight muscles contracting and relaxing as she let him inch into her. She panted a few more times, before emitting a long, quiet moan, her teeth clenched. He was almost in to his hilt. And then he was. Her tight little rump pressed against him, forming a heavenly, shuddering vacuum around him. He withdrew until just his head was inside, drawing a loud gasp from his toy. He returned, driving it home. He was trying to build up a rhythm. She was hot and tight, hotter than normal. "Do you have any form of identity?" he asked officiously."Well no," Michele replied, her heart sank."Well in the absence of any form of identity and given that you are atransvestite with no legitimate reason for being here, I'm arresting youfor lewd conduct and gross indecency," he said.Michele's heart sank.He took Michele by the arm and half-dragged her over to his car. Heopened the passenger door and shoved her in and hopped in the driver'sside. Her ridiculously short nurse's uniform rode. Zaaz in a tearful tone asked them to please stop (She didn't believe those tears, and she didn't believe them). Patrick ordered her to go to lie down. He had to push her down a little bit, since she was somewhat denied (but not too much). Once he got her to lie on the floor he knelt down and began to break the front of his leggings, thanks to this he could see her underwear. Zaaz crying asked her to please stop, to leave her alone, she wanted to go home (She knew that wasn't true. She wanted to.
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