Fluffy Takes a Walk

It neared dusk at ValueStar Motor Lodge which sat smack dab in the middle of the hood. Inside of Room Twelve, an average height, chubby, brown-skinned femboy repeated the douche. He let out the stream of lukewarm water and turned around to study the toilet as the hip hop music blared in the background. It was the fourth time that it had run clear. He pumped his fist in celebration before climbing into the shower.

He lathered himself with a vanilla scented body wash taking care to get into every nook and cranny of his smooth, elephantine body. He fondled his sizable moobs and worked the sponge all up in the crack of his forty-four inch ass. He scrubbed his eentsy cocklet and tiny, raisin balls. Once satisfied with his soapiness, he rinsed himself off.

He did not use a towel to dry himself. Instead, he used mineral oil to lock in the glistening moisture. He wafted a ton of brown sugar vanilla body spray in the air and twirled through it. He grabbed the beige camisole he used to turn his generous moobs into massive tit cleavage. The knockers would come in at a 46DDD. He slid on a pair of hot pink yoga pants and then put on a black hoodie that he zipped up to reveal his seductive crumb gutter. He rounded out the look with a pair of clear, rhinestone-embellished slides that showed off his painted toes and a pink bonnet.

He stuffed the room key and thirty bucks in the pocket of the hoodie and headed out the door.

He strutted down towards a corner store.

BEEP BEEP honked quite a few horns as he sashayed. Everytime, the fag waved with his manicured hands.

He made it to the store and bout two tall boys of Red Stripe and some beef jerky. The hairy Arab clerk scanned the I.D. the pussyboy held forth and smirked while rubbing his crotch. The girly bitch smiled and winked. Then, he headed out the door.

On the way back, more honks came. But, a dark red 2010 Mercury Grand Marquis pulled over. A mature man with caramel skin rolled down the window and asked, “Need a ride?”