The fucking tight end. The ball sailed miles over his head and the stadium gave a collective “awwwww” as the ball hit the ground. The punt team fa...miliarly jogged onto the field as I jogged off with my head down.“King!” I heard a girls’ voice from the sideline. I looked up.“You can make that throw in your sleep,” said Geneva, leaning against the fence when I looked up. “You’ve been waiting for this. Don’t ruin it.” And she returned to the stands.I didn’t know what to think during halftime.. So, I circled my thumb and middle finger around its base, dropped down onto my haunches and had a little nuzzle with my nose in amongst his pubic hair whilst my tongue gave his bollocks some gentle licking. He’d showered before leaving and for a little while I lost myself enjoying the soft abrading of his pubic hair against my cheek as my tongue darted around checking to see if he’d been thorough in his toilette.It wasn’t long before his balls were all glistening and shiny; coated with my. I ran my tounge up her soaking wet slit until it met with her swollen clit. Her legs twitched as I gave her body jolts from my flickering tounge. I stopped and slid inside of her with my fingers,feeling her soft walls until she commanded me to pound her now!I let her crawl into the back seat while i sat up and moved back along side her. She laid on her back and pulled her shirt off. Then she unclipped her bra and let her soft freckled tits jiggle in my face. I laid on top of her and licked her. Catherine and my sister Margaret Billingsly were both wonderful tutorsand have helped me become Isabella Worthington. I have not worn maleattire or attempted to be masculine for over two years, and I do notmiss it one bit. My daily life consists of helping Catherine withwhatever duties she requires of me and learning the finer point of beingthe fairer sex. My hair has now grown to past my shoulders, and Iusually wear it pined up in ringlet. My life could not be morecomplete, of at least I.