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Young Tranny at Great Grandma’s Funeral
“What’s going on,” inquired the 34 year-old construction and building inspector.
“Nothing,” smiled the high school senior with the 22-inch dark brown wavy hair extensions and gray contacts. “What’s up with you.”
“I want summa that.” he leaned forward trapping her between his heaving chest and the counter.
“What?”
“That sweet potato pie over there,” he winked.
“Oh, okay! I’ll cut you a piece.”
“You do that,” he said not moving an inch and running a forefinger down her weave.
She darted her eyes away, “You gonna let me do it?”
“In a minute. Them titties gettin’ bigger.”
“I guess,” she gave a high-pitched nervous laugh.

“Travis,” yelled the man’s wife as she entered the small kitchen.
“Hey, baby! What’s up,” the husband stepped back placing his hands in his pants pockets.
“I need to get Lincoln’s sippy cup,” she narrowed her eyes at him. “They’re looking for you to play dominoes outside.”
“Yeah! I’ll go do that.”
“Yeah,” Andrea sneered with contempt.

Travis Clark let the kitchen through the back door. There were a multitude people in the backyard. Most of them his wife’s relatives along with a few family friends. They were all congregating after attending the funeral and repast for Mama Meelie. Travis took the empty seat at the patio table where two of his wife’s uncles and one of her cousins were getting ready to play.

“Sup, mane,” the cousin said.
“Deal me in,” replied Travis.

Uncle Fred said, “I think we should go on an’ sell the house.
“I don’t disagree,” Uncle Harold offered.
“I was tryin’ to tell Dianne that we shoulda had mama sign the house over to us.”
“You cain’t tell her shit,” Uncle Harold referred to their oldest sister.
“Now, we gon’ hafta pay taxes an’ shit.”
“Maybe we can talk to Jeffery.”
“Yep, let’s ask him,” Uncle Fred referenced his nephew and Travis’ brother-in-law.

As all the hubbub was happening at the dominoes table and the others were laughing and milling about, Shakeia walked outside. The 17 year-old Travis had just been pushing up on had changed out of the conservative black dress and into a pair of red faux leather leggings, an off-white form-fitting sweater with deep V-neck, and 3½-inch heel suede booties. She had a generous amount of cleavage showing. Several of the men in the backyard checked her out.

Shakeia Floyd was the only grandc***d of Aunt Dianne. She had revealed to her family that she was transgender when she was much younger. Shakeia’s parents never married. Her dad was Andrea’s first cousin and her mom was West Indian. She had gotten parental permission from her mother to begin hormone therapy. At the age of 12, she had gone on a testosterone blocker to mute the effects of male puberty. On her 15th birthday, bahis siteleri her mom allowed her to start taking estrogen. Shakeia stood five-feet-six-inches tall and had a cherub-like build. She boasted deep colored skin with a silver undertone.

“Damn, that boi know he be doin’ too much,” chuckled Uncle Harold.
“Leave him alone,” Uncle Fred chastised his younger brother.
“It’s she and her,” Uncle Harold’s son reminded the men.
“He was born a boy, but whatever,” Uncle Fred chimed in.
“She ain’t bothering none of us,” Travis quipped. “Let her be. Just curious, how much is the house worth?”
“About $500,000,” Uncle Harold declared.
“I think it’s more like five-thirty,” Uncle Fred corrected him.
“Yeah! Y’all need to sell,” the cousin agreed seeing.

The two-story, three-bedroom, one-and-a-half-bath Mission Revival style house was located in the Gramercy Park neighborhood of Los Angeles. It also contained big living room off the small entry are and columned dining room. Camelia Smith, Mama Meelie’s government name, and her husband, Fred, Sr. had purchased the 1,400 square-foot home back in 1968.

Uncle Fred won the round.

Travis made an excuse to leave the table. He went back in the house. He could hear his wife, mother-in-law, and her aunt talking in living room. He walked up the stairs and entered the lavatory. The five-foot-ten, ox of a man sat down to take a shit in the dark. The door knob rattled. “Occupied,” he grunted.

“Sorry,” came the subtle voice of Shakeia.
“You’re good,” Travis yelled. “Hang on. I’m almost done.”

Travis flushed and unlocked the door. He opened it slightly and said, “Come on in!”
“Dang,” Shakeia turned up her nose.
“My bad,” Travis sprayed some Hawaiian breeze scented air freshener.
“Thanks,” she said closing the door and relocking it.
“Anybody know you up here?”
“I don’t think so! Want me to leave?”
“Hell naw!”

“Andrea almost caught us earlier,” she snickered.
“I know. I’ma hafta sleep on the couch for a week I bet.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Naw, gurl! You’re good.”
“Cool.”
“You know you lookin’ fine as hell in them stretchy clothes.”
“Thank you! I’m glad you like.”
“Oh yeah! I like it a lot!”
“Cool.”
“You still datin’ that nigga?”
“It’s complicated,” Shakeia shared.
“Niggas under 30 are dumb as fuck.”
“You mean under 40.”
“Hey now,” smirked Travis as he wiped his hairy ass. “I resemble that remark.”
“I know,” she tossed her tresses.

“So, what that nigga doin’,” asked Travis.
“He got some chick pregnant,” she lamented.
“Oh, snap!”
“Yeah! I’m kinda tired of his dumb ass.”
“I feel you. You need an older man.”
“I guess I do,” replied the quiz bowl team member.

“How long you been with that motherfucker,” inquired Travis.
“Going on four years.”
“That’s right. He canlı bahis was a senior when you met him, right?”
“Yep. He’s 23 now.”
“And y’all still fucking.”
“I love him,” Shakeia referred to the half-Samoan, half-Black dude.
“He popped yo’ cherry?”
“Yes he did.”
“Your first is always special.”
“I’m just so drawn to him.”
“That’s cool. But if he mess around, you oughta have some fun too.”
“That’s why I’m in here.”
“Good.”

Shakeia got on her knees. She grabbed Travis’ dick and tugged at it.

“Damn, gurl!”
“I been wanting your dick again.”
“I be wantin’ that pussy all the time.”
“You can have it!”
“Ooh wee! Go ahead and suck it.”

Shakeia put the 7¾-inch, super thick rod in her mouth. She worked her head back and forth along the shaft.

“I wish I was the one that popped yo’ cherry, gurl! Suck that dick! Take that shirt off!”

Shakeia removed the sweater and her white lace bra.

“Look at them big ole titties,” remarked Travis. “You sexy!”
“Thank you,” the young tranny smiled.
“I love that yo’ mama let you get on hormones.”
“Me too!”
“I think every parent should let they feminine sons do that.”
“Oh really?”
“Hell yeah!”

Shakeia sucked some more. “You wanna fuck me,” she asked while tickling the sweltering ball sack.

“Oh yeah, gurl! I always wanna fuck you.”

Shakeia shimmied her leggings off her divine ass.

Travis smacked the generous cheeks. He spat in her ass crack. He slapped his dick on her booty. He entered Shakeia’s rectum.

“Oh my god,” whined the teenage submissive.
“Relax that pussy,” ordered Travis.
“Yes, sir!”
“Goddamn! It’s so tight!”
“You like that?”
“Hell yeah! Look at them big titties in the mirror.”
“Oh yeah, daddy! Fuck my tranny pussy!”
“Yo’ young ass tranny pussy taking this dick, gurl!”
“Yes, I am!”
“Ahhhhhhhh!”

Travis could not control himself as his powerful thighs slammed in and out of Shakeia’s tight asspussy. He busted a huge load in her guts.

They got cleaned up.

Travis headed downstairs.

Shakeia looked at her mobile phone. It had been on silent. There were three missed calls and 19 text messages from Loto. She called him.

“Hey, baby,” the six-foot, 246-pound former varsity defensive lineman said.
“Hey, sweetie!”
“You doin’ okay,” the guy with the thick rib cage and slow metabolism checked.
“I’m good. You?”
“I’m good too, baby! Real good. You still at ya grandma’s place?”
“Yep. I’m still here.”
“Can I come scoop you up?”
“That’ll work. What we gonna do?”
“Shit! My moms hit for $2500. She gave me five. I’ma get us a room.”
“That’s awesome!”
“I’ma be there in 20 minutes.”

Shakeia got cleaned up and go dressed. She grabbed her purse from the armoire in one of the upstairs bedrooms and walked out of the front door. She texted her grandmother saying she kaçak iddaa was leaving for a while to see some friends.

Loto pulled up in his crimson red 2004 Lexus LS 430 sedan.

Shakeia rushed over to the passenger side and hopped in.

“Damn! You look good as hell,” remarked the driver.
“Thanks, sweetie! Can you stop by a store?”
“Which one?”
“It doesn’t matter. A CVS or grocery store.”
“Bet!”

Loto turned into the parking lot a retail pharmacy. “You need some money?”
“I guess,” Shakeia said.

Loto handed his paramour a fifty dollar bill.

Shakeia went in the store and bought disposable douche and a travel size container of petroleum jelly.

Back in the vehicle, Shakeia offered Loto the change.

“Keep it, boo,” he denied the money.

Loto drove past the shabby motels he usually rented for extended fucks with Shakeia.

“Where are you going,” asked the transsexual.
“You’ll see,” Loto replied.

Loto brought the car to stop at a midscale La Quinta Inns and Suites with an interior corridor. He told Shakeia he would be back in a moment.

He returned and showed her to the room. It had a king-sized bed and was appointed nicely overall.

“You doin’ okay.” Loto asked.
“I’m alright.”
“Sorry I couldn’t come to the funeral.”
“It’s fine.”
“I’m fah real, gurl! I love yo’ ass!”
“I love you too, Loto!”
“I need to love to you!”
“Let me freshen up!”

Shakeia went into the bathroom and rinsed out her booty hole. Then, she washed up quickly. She had a small bottle of lotion in her purse so she lathered up with it. She walked out completely naked with her breasts and butt bouncing.

“Got damn,” howled the dude who ran a 4.97 second 40-yard dash back in the day.
“You like,” the feminine changeling inquired.
“Oh yeah! Dammit yo’ titties get bigger everyday!”
“They really do,” cooed Shakeia. “How was work?”
“It was cool,” smiled the vending machine repairer. “Thought about you all day!”
“Really?”
“Yeah, gurl!”

Shakeia hopped on the bed. She and Loto got in missionary position. She sucked his 8-inch dick. He licked her boipussy and her small sissy clit.

Loto pushed Shakeia’s legs into the air. He angled himself so he could enter her inner sanctum.

“Oh, baby,” whined the 17 year-old bottom gurl.
“Yo’ pussy feels good!”
“Fuck it, Loto! Fuck me hard!”
“Yeah, baby,” the hefty, light-brown dude with heavy Polynesian features and massive curly Afro groaned.
“Yeah, nigga! Fuck this tranny ass!”
“Yo’ tranny ass so perfect, baby!”
“You think so?”
“Hell yeah! You gon’ be my wife!”
“Yes, husband!”
“Take this dick,” he barked as he gripped her boobs.
“Oh shit, Loto! I’m gonna cum!”

Shakeia shot nut out of her soft cocklet.

Loto continued pounding. “I ain’t done with you yet!”

Loto put Shakeia on her side. He slid back inside. “Take this dick, baby!”
“It feels so good,” purred Shakeia.
“I wish you could have my baby.”

Loto tensed. His dick deposited a lava load of skeet inside of the not quite legal bitch trap.

“Got damn! I love you,” Loto huffed.

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