Tattoed inked transgender prostitute fuck cum dance and wank

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The long, slim fingers of the tattooed inked transgender prostitute delicately pinched at her perfect rosebud nipples, a smirk dancing across her lips as she watched her client approach. This particular “john” was one of her specials, a regular who always paid handsomely for her expert services.

The young woman, barely legal and just hitting her trans awakening, stood before the client in nothing but a pair of lace boy shorts. Her skin was a canvas of colorful tattoos, the designs perfectly adorning her athletic frame. Shaved smooth, except for a small patch of hair above her cock, she looked more like a male model than a sex worker.

“Ready for your session, darling?” the ATM asked huskily, her voice roughened by the hormones pumping through her body. She could already feel her dick twitching in its fabric prison, eager for action.

The client nodded eagerly, practically drooling at the sight of the inked ts goddess before him. He knew he’d pay extra for this one, but it was worth it. Most trannies were milfs or grandmas in disguise, but not this luscious creature. She was young and hung and just hitting her prime.

“I want it all, babygirl,” the client urged, his meaty hands already pawing at his own crotch. “I want you to fuck my ass and make me your bitch.”

A wicked grin spread across the tattooed tgirl’s pretty face. “As you wish, Daddy,” she purred, reaching back to unclasp her tiny shorts and let them fall to the floor. Her cock sprung up eagerly, hard and throbbing, already glistening at the tip.

The ATM pushed the client down onto the bed, straddling his face so that her pendulous dick rested heavily on his chin. “Be good and suck,” she commanded, reaching for a bottle of lube on the nightstand. “Mama needs to get her boots wet.”

Obediently, the client opened his mouth and took her into his throat, groaning around her shaft. She was gamey and firm, hot down his gullet as he massaged her shaft with his tongue. Meanwhile, she squirted a generous amount of lubricant onto her fingers, rubbing it into her tight asshole and exploring her puckered folds.

With a sigh of pleasure, the tattooed tranny lifted herself up, poised over the client’s writhing form. Slowly, excruciatingly, she sank down on his cock, her plush, pillowy ass swallowing him inch by perfect inch.

“Fuuuuuck,” the ATM hissed, bottoming out with an audible slap. She loved this part, when she felt so wonderfully, wonderfully full. The client groaned into her cock, the vibrations traveling through her and pushing her arousal higher.

Checking in with a quick glance, she saw to her delight that his pole was leaking pre-cum liberally. Grinding down on him harder, she let gravity do the work as she began to ride him, her firm ass bouncing with each thrust.

“Yes,” she moaned, “harder, faster.” The client obliged, spurred on by her expert cock. Soon, to her surprise, she felt another set of hands grab her hips – some sort of living furniture or else another hidden client. She didn’t care, not with the blinding pleasure pumping through her veins.

The new hands squeezed her ass, palming and slapping the yielding flesh as she gained speed. The client pulled her back on his cock and sped up at record pace, grunting obscenely with each pump of his hips. The ATM sentía waves of pleasure shoot down her Ram butter-rough cock, the high buzz starting screaming in her ears.

“Gonna nut,” she warned, her voice quivering. The client only responded with a buck of his hips, the movement driving her over the edge. With a keening wail, she unloaded, thick, hot ropes of semen splattering across the client’s chest and face.

She dismounted, leaving him gasping and spent. “Oh fuck yes,” he groaned, pumping his liquid cock with his hand, eager to milk his own climax. Even as she watched, he stiffened, eyes rolling back as he let loose a cum fountain from his own dick, spraying himself almost as thoroughly as the ATM’s own sticky release.

Finally, the ATM collapsed onto the bed, whose sheets were liberally splattered with their mingled juices. She reveled in the afterglow, riding out the last waves of her orgasm as she felt sets of strong hands knead her ass, her bruises, her tattooed skin, pressing her into the disheveled bed.

In the end, after a long, sated nap, the ATM sat up on her elbows, a serene smile spread across her pretty face. “Well?” she asked coyly. “Should I expect to see you again?”

The client nodded vigorously, still panting and depleted. “Absolutely, baby doll,” he promised. “I’ll pay double next time.”

The tattooed inked transgender prostitute giggled, a sound that was more throaty than girly. “Oh, Daddy,” she said playfully as she rose to her bare feet. “You’d better.” She waggled her fingers in goodbye, already sauntering out to clean herself up for whatever other hot john was sure to follow.

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