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My friend had warned me that the dress code at this place was "sexy-chic", so I decided to try out my nestockings, with a very short skirt, low-cut top and killer heels. He was right! I felt very comfortable in the pretty little brasserie (that's bra-zer-ee, not bra-zee-er), since almost every table was occupied by a sexily-dressed single girl, many of them lingering over a glass of wine and a cigarette (galoises, I'll bet!). The place had a very friendly atmosphere, as gentleman after gentleman would come in, talk to one the girls for a few minutes, then leave with her. Often the pretty girl would come back to her table in fifteen or twenty minutes, and resume her cartoon drink. I had a number of men ask me to go with them too, but as I hadn't eaten yet I refused politely. But it was charming to think that these locals would go out of their way to make a stranger feel at home - and Parisians have a reputation for arrogance! My dinner consisted of a wonderful steak with french fries (bisteck avec frites, pronounced "freets") and a glass fucks of Beaujolais. When I was finished, a nice looking gentleman came over and struck up a conversation with me. "C'est combien?" Say combee-en?) he asked me, which means, "how much?" I glanced at the bill in surprise, and replied, "Twenty three euros". He seemed amazed, slapped the note into my hand, and pulled me up from the table. It seemed inexpensive to me too, but I had barely enough time to drop the transsexual note on the table before he had me out the door. He was very disappointed to find that I didn't live nearby, and before long we were up a dark alley, kissing and fondling each other's private parts. He was on my breasts like pate de fois gras on a cracker. I had Tranny his penis out in short order, and was halfway down his shirt when I remembered my resolution about the Eiffel Tower. So for the third time since arriving in Paris, I jerked a fellow off. He groaned loudly, then sighed and said, "Alors, what deed ah expect for twonty-sree euros?" and left. I thought that was a bit unkind - just what kind of girl did he think I was? I headed back to the restaurant, where I got a little tipsy - a lot of men bought me drinks that night and some of the were expensive, as much as ten euros each! I decided to leave when a few of the other girls began to get annoyed. I can bitch only assume I became a little too boisterous. Back at the hotel, I was once again beset upon by the entire bellboy staff, and since I was in a bit of a state from all the drink, I agreed to let one of them escort me upstairs. You want to be a disgusting whore, we’ll treat you like one.” His thighs straddling her throat, his ass was right above her face as he began tugging harshly at her nipples. “Daryl found him caught up in a big thorn bush, but he’s okay. Then, with a concerted effort, fucks I pushed the thought away, concentrating instead on the blonde beauty currently transsexual impaled on my cock. Never had he ever wanted to make a girl uncomfortable, force her to do anything she didn't truly want, nor make her upset. She notices and looks at me, laughing anew. “What have you done to yourself? Then they suddenly stopped when another fifteen ships exploded. Shot your big Tranny load up there. “No, that's it,” he said, staring at me as I played with that final button. Milo was walking on air when he left the meeting. I had found my vocation, my purpose in life. We were doing a fitness assessment exercise on the baseball court a few minutes later. When I am finally finished my cock bitch is still in her mouth and the mess is all gone. I consider myself masculine, but a lot cartoon of people have confused me for a girl. I wouldn’t be opposed to that at all, it was the greatest feeling I’ve had in my young life. The platform below was much less crowded at the time of night, indeed the only people on it appeared to be the shady men and the alighting passengers.