She was a tall, stately woman in her mid thirties with short blonde hair and the most piercing blue eyes I’d ever seen.“Good morning David,” she... greeted me, “and good morning Mr Barker, welcome to Abacus Productions. My name is Emma Shaw and I’m the production manager on this production. Have you brought your copy of the script with you?”“No,” I replied, “I didn’t.”“Not to worry,” I answered, “I know my lines.”“What?” she exclaimed, sounding incredulous, “but there were eight pages of. Then my eyes started watering again and tears rolled down my face. She got up, gave me a hug, “think about what I said, you can do better.” Then she walked away.Could things get any more humiliating?Looking at the clock on the wall I saw that I still had twenty minutes to wait so I sat with my head down on the table, trying to hide my face. Fifteen more minutes. Ten more minutes. Five more and this can be over, I thought. As I stood up to head back to the store, I heard a familiar voice behind. Not until you quench my thirst. Not until I suck your cum till you’re dry.’ Hearing her words made him grow harder and he start thrust his hips forward so her thighs can create a hot friction against him. Having fun teasing him, she gyrated her hips making his motion even more sensual and every turn allowed him a taste of her drenched pussy waiting for him to enter. ‘Let me fuck you baby. I got to come in you,’ he groaned. But she just moved her hips faster and suddenly stopped causing him to. In the eighties when I arrived in the UK it was a utopia for a TV especially in London as you had clubs to what varied from the timid where you go to some small venue and dress and sit around with other trannies or go to open clubs like the Way Out where most things were accepted. After a few years of the London scene I moved to the midlands where I joined the Beaumont Society and made many friends and exchanged stories as some weekends away.Shortly after moving to a midland town and living in.