Presenting Correctly (Post-Script, Part I)

Trayveon used a key under the welcome mat to get into the brownstone. He liked coming over after he'd finished fucking Tasha. Erin ... she'd stopped going by Aaron some months back ... still didn't care for being the sidechick, but they'd made it work.

When she still went by Aaron, she'd posted a video of Trayveon plowing her ass, his fat cock buried balls deep up her ass. The response was more than she'd ever hoped for, and after working up the courage to tell Trayveon, they developed a plan. He'd be behind the camera, keeping it off his telltale tattoos, keeping the attention focused on Aaron. And as time had gone on, the audience reaction focused more and more on the need for Aaron to feminize. And panties had begat shaving, and shaving had begat heels, and heels had begat hormones ... and Erin was born.

"Oh fuck, Daddy," she squealed as the head of his big Black cock popped into her ass. She heard the familiar dings as the donations poured in. A lot of people, she knew, milked these moments. Stopping and starting. Getting every cent out of the audience. But she and Trayveon were popular because they fucked organically, not stopping till that big cock erupted in her ass. This was her life now, and she was grateful for it.