Second and Final ChapternnAs we learned in "Susan's Teen Lust Satisfied," Susan Smith is a wealthy lesbian whose greatest thrill in life is to seduce young women, introducing them to the joys of girl-girl sex. This story describes Susan's coming of age as a connoisseur of Sapphic sex while in college. Chapter one described her seduction at the hands – and lips - of the dykeish Laura. Chapter two tells how this led to an emotionally uplifting (and sexually satisfying) experience with the darling 18-year-old Kelly, and to one of the most erotic nights of Susan's life: An incredible lesbian orgy involving six beautiful, lusty young college girls.nn*nnThe rest of the week after receiving Laura's invitation to what she suspected would be a lesbian orgy Susan was tossed by a rising tide of nervous anticipation. Her feelings swung back and forth, being at once terrified at what she suspected was coming, then aroused as could be by the idea, and then fearful that she had it all wrong and that this would just be an innocent evening of girl talk. At last, Saturday arrived, and the stylish Susan amused herself with a new dilemma: What does one wear to a lesbian orgy? Well, clean panties, a bra that unfastens easily . She selected the same tasteful outfit she would wear to any informal social gathering, with a slight extra emphasis on showing off her "assets" – A tight turtleneck sweated that highlighted her ample bosom, a slightly shorter-than-normal skirt that exposed a bit more thigh than she ordinarily would, but nothing close to "Brittney-slut" level.nnShe arrived at the precisely correct moment of "fashionable lateness," noticing the door to Laura's apartment open a crack in invitation, and hearing music coming from the tiny apartment. It was a silly pop love song, the kind with lots of "Oh, girl" and "Baby, baby, baby" lines – not the driving techno she would have expected. Susan entered, and smiled at the scene within. nnTwo pairs of girls were "slow dancing" with each other. One of these pairs was Laura and a thin, waifish blonde, taller than Susan but still tiny compared to the massive grad student, and with a boyish figure. Laura towered over the girl, and gave the impression of being smitten. Her arms were wrapped around the blonde's back, pulling her closely against her own large body. The girl's own thin arms reached up around Laura's neck, from which she appeared to be dangling, her body semi-limp, and totally under the control of the large lesbian. "OK," Susan thought to herself, "I think I've seen enough to know the score with those two."nnThe other dancers were both very attractive girls with outstanding bodies. One had medium length dark hair, was the same height as Susan, and below the neck could have been her double – curvaceous, more than adequate but not huge breasts, womanly hips, perfect ass, and shapely legs.

This is not a true story. But if it were, would you be surprised?nn* * * * * *nnTHE FEELINGS BEGINnnAnn Coulter, political firebrand, stood in front of her bathroom mirror and dropped her shorts. Her nicely shaved, completely bare pussy gleamed in the light. She admired her pussy in the mirror, turning to different angles to see its smoothness. She lightly touched the crack in the middle, feeling the warm furrow that was now bereft of hair. She pushed her finger in and wiggled it around. Then she brought her finger to her nose and sniffed.nn"Good," she said to her reflection. "No sign of odor." She looked at the can of Fem-B-Gone on her vanity. The words on the can read, "Leaves no trace of unwanted feminine odor." Indeed, it had done its job well, so well that her friends down at the Center for Traditional Womanhood jokingly called it Tuna-B-Gone. nnThere was no longer any sign that her cunt was that of a grownup woman. Ann knew that her can of Fem-B-Gone was produced en masse in China, where poverty-stricken people worked with dangerous fumes and bad working conditions just so that she could turn her pussy into a slick ad for the fashion-chemical business. She admired the economic efficiency and the profit that this product entailed.nnShe returned to admiring her bald cunt. Then she turned around and stuck out her bony rear end. She spread the cheeks and ran her fingers up and down her crack. It, too, was smooth.

For many writers, plotting a story is the most difficult part of the creative writing process. Fortunately, some help is available. Critics have identified several basic plot formulae for pornographic and erotic fiction. In addition, I have added some others that are especially well suited for transgendered fiction. The first five formulae may be called “situational plots,” because they are based upon a particular circumstance. The next fifteen are “motivational plots,” which result from the protagonist’s reason or purpose. The next set of plot formulae concern lesbian stories, but it may be adapted to fit the transgendered fiction author’s needs. Finally, the remaining series of plot formulae, the “transformational plots,” are specifically associated with the transformation process that many transsexuals undergo. I invite any author to use any of these plot formulae in the development of his or her transgendered fiction.nnSituational PlotsnnThese plots were identified by William Rotsler in his 1974 book, Contemporary Erotic Cinema. For further information, refer to the Internet article, “A History of X: 100 Years of Sex in Film” by Luke Ford (http://print.google.com/print/doc?isbn=1573926787).nnPlot 1. Reading or handling some phallic-shaped object arouses a woman alone at home. Masturbation follows. A man arrives, is invited inside; sexual play begins.nnPlot 2. A farm girl gets excited watching animals copulate.

Chapter 3: Permanent HouseguestnnAn illicit proposal … nnI opened my eyes slowly, almost painfully. My mind was foggy, my memory hazy, but it only made sense that, for the ceiling of the bedroom to be awash with this much sunlight, it had to be morning. And not early morning.nnI rolled my head to the side and was jolted wide awake. For the first time since becoming a teacher at Summerset Community College, I wasn’t simply late for work; it was after 10:00 and I was severely late. My hand shot out for the phone; I had to call the school and come up with some plausible excuse for not being in class, and it damn sure couldn’t have anything to do with the truth; that I had been fucked into unconsciousness by three of my own students. And all three of them Black students on top of that! nnI was still fumbling for the phone when Chantel came into the room, dressed in apron and cradling a steaming mug a coffee in both hands. “I’ve already called school and told them we won’t be in today, Diane.”nn“You what?”nn“I called school a little after seven and told the attendance secretary that I had stopped by to pick you up, because you were taking your car in for a tune up, but found you throwing up in the toilet.” Chantel sat on the edge of the bed and handed me the coffee. “I told her that I was going to stay here and take care of you and assured her that, if you got any worse, I’d rush you straight to the hospital.”nnI inhaled the coffee in an attempt to clear my head. It worked. “And she bought that?”nn“I’ve never been caught in a lie,” Chantel answered indignantly. “And you haven’t missed a day since you came to Summerset, so why wouldn’t she believe me?”nn“You just answered that yourself, young lady; because you’ve never been caught lying.” I sipped the coffee.