Fantasy #9

Caitlyn’s Lexus sputtered to a halt, the gas gauge on empty.
She was still a few blocks away from Candis’ home. The two were having a slumber party, and Caitlyn was dressed flirtatiously in a short satin kimono robe.
“Guess I’ll have to walk,” she muttered, not looking forward to a stroll in her spikey heels. But it felt quite pleasant to be outside surrounded by the darkness. She imagined Candis greeting her at the door in a sexy outfit…
“Hey beautiful, what’s up?”
Caitlyn looked to her side. A car had pulled up, driven by a man with a lusty grin. “How much for a handjob?” he asked.
How dare he mistake her for a common streetwalker! But wait a minute—Hadn’t she learned in her transgender consciousness-raising discussions that sex work could be a viable profession?
“Um, $100,” she answered, not sure if the amount was too high or too low.
“Hop in,” said the guy.
She scoped him out. He looked normal enough, and if he did try anything she was sure she could win in a fight.
By the time she got in the car, he had his pants pulled to his knees. She gingerly grabbed his raging boner. “Oh, baby,” he moaned.
Emboldened by his response, she began jerking him with more confidence and strength. After a few minutes, he ecstatically climaxed.
“Do you have a Kleenex?” she asked. She wiped off her sticky hand and got out of the car.
What a thrilling and empowering experience! There was nothing wrong with selling sex, it was all perfectly…
Screech! The car’s engine squealed as the driver took off.
“Goddammit!” she screamed. She had forgot to get her money!

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