TG - shemale at the airport

I pulled her thin white t-shirt all the way up her arms, stretching to do so, as
she was only an inch or so shorter than me. I reveled in the full view of her
pert breasts, with their bullet nipples, springing back into view and, as I
tossed her t-shirt aside, bent again to my task of worshiping them.
Once more, she pushed my mouth harder against her breasts, encouraging me to
keep pleasuring her with my tongue and teeth, a task I was only too happy to
perform.

My hands slid down her slender back, past her narrow waist and stopped at the
waistband of her small leather miniskirt. I fumbled for a moment before
unfastening it and then started to slip it over her flaring hips.
"Hold on Mike," she gasped. "Let me help." I moved a pace back as she stood
upright from her leaning position. "Ready?" she grinned. I nodded my
encouragement. "Maybe you can take it from here," she smiled, the skirt now
ready to be freely slipped down her long, slender legs.
"My pleasure," I grinned back, reaching forward.
"Perhaps you would see better if you were a little lower," she suggested. "Maybe
kneeling down."
In a moment I was on my knees.

"Good boy," she encouraged. "Now, take my skirt down, please Mike."
Slowly, ever so slowly, I slid the small leather garment down over her hips,
past the strong thighs that I had been so admiring back in the lounge and down
to her high heels. She stepped delicately out of the rumpled garment, standing
now with her feet a couple of feet apart and her hands on her hips.
All that remained was a white lace thong. All that separated me from what
separated her from other women. My mouth was dry. I felt like I was trembling.
Except my cock. That was pulsing as hard as ever.
"Now, Michael," she said in a slightly stern voice, "I would like you to take
down my panties for me."
I looked up into her eyes. She gazed down at me.