Slovene Tranny and Her American Men

Slovene Tranny and Her American Men
Milena Dorin awakened from her slumber. She grabbed her iPhone and pressed the button to see the time. It was 6:14 a.m. She decided to get up and bathe. She walked into the master bathroom of her palatial two-bedroom, two-bath downtown condo. She pulled her douching apparatus from beneath the sink. She cleaned out her 40-inch ass. After completing that task, she hopped in the shower. The steamy, hot water felt good against her milky-white skin. She scrubbed her curvaceous figure with a purple loofa sponge and salted-caramel-apricot-scented body wash. She spent considerable time on her 36DD titties.

Milena turned off the water and used a plush oversized yellow towel to dry off. Then, she applied the same scent of body cream all over her silken skin. She put on a bit of Daisy by Marc Jacobs perfume. She headed back to her bedroom and threw on a XXXL white V-neck T-shirt. She headed to the kitchen and loaded her Keurig with a packet of Dunkin Donuts medium-roast coffee. As she waited for the beverage to finish, she poured glass of Chardonnay.

The caffeine woke her up. She stepped on the balcony outside her living room. She lived on the ninth floor. In her hands, she had a blunt and a lighter. She relaxed on the outdoor wicker chaise lounge with water-resistant cushion. The early-morning late Summer air felt nice. She inhaled the marijuana.

Once she felt her high, she went back inside. She picked up the wine glass and began to drink. She walked into the bedroom and looked at her phone. She had a text from Marshan Jackson, her current boyfriend. He let her know he would be over at 9:00 a.m. She replied with a few emojis.

Milena was born in June 1986 in the Republic of Yugoslavia. She was the fourth c***d and second son of her parents. From the she was very young, every knew that the boy was extremely effeminate. She grew up in the small town of Jusinci and excelled in academics. When she was five-years-old, Slovenia gained independence. She earned a scholarship to the Faculty of Economics at the University of Ljubljana. She earned an undergraduate degree with a concentration in international business.

She moved to Moscow after graduation, still living in boy mode then, to work for a private equity firm with major interests in oil & gas, commercial & investment banking, telecommunication, and asset management. She was a member of the Oil & Gas Division doing analysis on what prices to buy and sell at. She did a brilliant job and was quickly promoted to senior analyst and the assistant consultant. She spoke Slovene, Russian, German, and English.

While working at the Altan Consortium Group in 2011, the then-named, Miro, met a Texan millionaire oil man who had been living in Moscow for just over a year. His name was Randy Tate.

Randy Tate grew up in East Texas. His great-grandfather had struck luck when oil was discovered on his land. The Great Tate, as he was known, built a small family company that prospered. Randy was the VP of Global Markets. His uncle was the C.E.O. and his dad was the EVP of Operations. Randy was thirty-nine-years-old, five-feet-eleven-inches tall, and weighed one-hundred-ninety pounds. He wore cowboy boots and a Stetson hat every day.

The oilman was a Texan through and through. He attended the University of Texas at Austin where he earned a Bachelor’s degree in environmental science. He married a former Texas Rose Queen with whom he had three c***dren. He owned a working farm, rode horses, hunted, and had a couple of nice pick-up trucks.

Miro was in a meeting explaining the current opportunities for Tate Oil in southeast Asia. Randy and his advisors were impressed with the detailed analysis and forward-thinking vision.

“Well, boys,” Randy said in his signature Texas drawl. “I think we got us a plan. Let’s execute on this.”

Miro smiled.

The executives of Altan were thrilled and shook hands with the brusque American.

Randy pressed, “Introduce me to the analyst.”
“This is Miro Dorin,” one of the VPs said.

“Hey, there,” Randy extended his hand. “You did some damn fine work there.”
“Thank you, sir,” Miro blushed.
“Here’s my card! Do you have one?”
“Oh, yes! One moment, please.”

Miro rushed to the other side of the conference table and fished a business card from his messenger bag. They guy with the shoulder length blond ponytail returned and handed it to Randy.

The group dispersed.

That evening, Miro walked into his cramped apartment. He swallowed the testosterone blocker and estrogen pills he was taking to feminize his body. He changed out of his slim-fit, navy-blue suit into a large T-shirt and some pajama bottoms. As he watched TV, his mobile phone rang. It was a number not programmed.

Miro answered in Russian, “Anno.”
“Hello! This is Randy Tate. Is the Miro,” asked the diehard Longhorns fan.
“Oh, yes. This is me, Mr. Tate!”
“Great! And call me Randy!”
“Okay, Randy.”
“I just wanted to thank you again for the awesome advice today.”
“Thank you!”
“I was wondering if you could join me for a late dinner tonight.”
“I have no plans so I can dine with you.”
“Great! What’s your address? I’ll send a car.”

Miro gave his address.

Randy told him the driver would be there in 30-minutes and that they would eat in the small dining room at his townhouse.

Miro washed off quickly and put on a button-down light-blue shirt and over that he added a black V-neck cotton-blend sweater. He stepped into a pair of charcoal pleated dress pants and then slid his feet into some black leather penny loafers. He covered himself with a black peacoat and wrapped a houndstooth-print scarf around his neck. He grabbed his messenger bag and headed down to the lobby.

A black Mercedes Benz E-Class sedan pulled up. Miro walked outside and the driver opened the rear passenger-side door for him. The financial analyst was shuttered across the city to a posh area filled with opulent brick townhomes. The car came to a stop and the driver got out to open Miro’s door.

Miro walked up the steps of the three-story red-brick townhouse. A maid answered the door. The woman led him to the small dining room. Miro sat in one of chairs that had a place-setting front of it. He waited.

Randy appeared a few minutes later. He was dressed in a white button-down shirt that was tucked into his size 34 Wrangler cowboy-cut original blue jeans. He had on a dark-tan leather belt with a sliver-plated Longhorn buckle. He sported a pair of snakeskin cowboy boots and a gray Stetson hat.

“Hey, li’l buddy,” the Texan millionaire greeted his guest. “How are ya?”
“I am fine,” replied Miro. “And you?”
“I’m good. Real good. Sorry for makin’ you wait. I was on the phone with the wife.”
“No problem.”
“I’m a red-blooded American so I ordered steak and potatoes for dinner. I hope that okay with you.”
“It most certainly is!”
“Do you want something to drink,” the host asked as his sipped his tumbler of scotch.
“Yes, please. Some red wine.”

Randy rang for the maid and requested his guest be given a glass of Argentine Malbec.

Miro took a drink from the glass.

“How is it,” checked Randy.
Miro smiled, “Very nice. Thank you!”

A few moments later, the maid arrived with their dinner. The plates consisted of medium-rare New York Strips, oven-roasted new potatoes, and sautéed haricots-verts.

They ate the scrumptious meal.

Dessert was a New York style cheesecake.

Randy said, “I like your company li’l buddy.”
“Why, thank you,” replied Miro.
“I think we get along well. Do you?”
“Oh, yes. Very well, Mr. Tate. Uh…I mean Randy.”
“Good! I know we have a professional relationship, but I think we can be friends too. Do you think that’s possible?”
“I would like to be your friend.”
“Sweet doggie! That’s what I was hopin’ you’d say!”

Miro grinned.

“Since we’re friends now,” the father of three started. “We should be honest with one another.”
“Agreed,” said Miro.
“I have a personal question for you.”
“What is it, Randy?”
“Are you a homosexual?”
“Uh…I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be scared. I’m fine with it. I just wanna know.”
“It’s hard to explain.”
“Well, do your best.”
“I like men, yes. But, I feel like a woman on the inside.”
“Ah! So, you’re a transgender.”
“Yes! I think that is how you say in English.”

“I like transwomen,” Randy admitted.
“Really,” Miro asked.
“Yep! I got a pretty tranny girlfriend in Dallas.”
“Oh, my! How long have you known her?”
“Ten years. I bought her some tits. I’d like to buy you some tits too.”
“Wow!”
“Look, I think you’re very pretty. I see lots of potential for you becoming a woman. I got a nice sized cock and I wanna fuck you tonight.”
“I think you are handsome. I would like for you to fuck me.”
“Well, let’s go to my room.”

The brown-haired, blue-eyed former high school quarterback led his guest up the stairs to the second floor of his six-thousand-square-foot townhome. They went into the lavish master bedroom. On the king-seized water bed sat a red lace.

“That lingerie is for you,” Randy announced.

Miro took off his clothes and put on the garment.

Randy pulled out his dick. Miro began sucking it. The tool grew to eight-inches and had substantial girth. Miro played with Randy’s balls.

Randy got behind Miro and spat on his pink hole. He stuck his big White cock inside Miro’s inner sanctum.

Miro winced.

Randy went slow until he was at the hilt. He began to stroke. Soon, he was thrusting harder and the femboi was screaming.

“Oh, yes! Fuck me,” wailed Miro.
“Take this cock, baby girl,” yelled Randy.
“It feels so good!”
Hell, yeah, baby! This cowboy loves the way that asspussy feels.”

Randy flipped Miro on his back and fucked him senseless.

“I’m gonna buy you some titties, baby doll,” Randy shared. “And I wanna fuck you every day.”
“Oh, yes, Randy,” cried out Miro.

Randy shot his load deep inside Miro’s anus. They spooned for an hour.

Miro cleaned up.

Randy called the car service.

Four months later, Randy flew down to Thailand with Miro.

Miro was admitted to the surgical center. He got breast implants, butt enhancement surgery, and an orchiectomy. After a week in recovery, they returned to Moscow. Miro changed his name to Milena.

Milena now had 34C breasts and a plump ass.

Randy moved Milena into the townhouse and fucked the tranny constantly.

In 2014, Randy moved back to Texas. He purchased a nice apartment for Milena and left her six-hundred-thousand Rubles – which was a little over a hundred grand in U.S. dollars. Milena remitted a fifth of the money to her parents in Slovenia

Milena missed the hung, sexy Texan. Having left the Altan Group, she looked for work and found a place at small commodities trading firm. She applied for a visa to move to the U.S. Her oldest brother had moved to Cleveland several years prior and had a good life working as a plumber. Milena was approved.

She departed from Sheremetyevo International Airport on Tuesday, 3 March 2015 on Atlantica Airlines. She had a layover in Paris for three hours and then boarded the flight bout for Dulles in Washington, D.C.

When she landed in D.C., she was tired. She collected her luggage from baggage claim and placed a call on the prepaid American cell phone Randy had sent her.

Randy answered, “Hey, baby doll!”
“Hi, Randy,” replied Milena.
“I’m about ten minutes away. Just wait outside for me and I’ll be right there. I’m in a white Jeep Cherokee.”
“Okay, sweetie. See you in a few.”

Randy’s twin sister, and only sibling, Robin, was the legislative director for the Congressman from their East Texas district. She was a lesbian and still a quarter of the way in the closet. The now, forty-five-year-old planned a trip to visit Robin for a few days under the guise of conducting business. He had set aside a day to spend with Milena before she flew to Cleveland.

Randy arrived and hefted Milena’s bags into the SUV. He kissed the leggy blond. They headed off to the Westin – Reston Heights. At the hotel, Randy unloaded bags and led his beautiful lover to their room on the fourth floor.

Randy inquired, “Do you wanna get some sleep, sweetheart?”
“Not right now,” confessed Milena. “I want you to fuck me with that big cock!”
“Sweet doggie! I can do that,” Randy said undressing.

Milena changed an open-cup, crotchless body stocking and put on four-inch stilettos. She was already tall and the shoes made her a total Amazon.

Randy’s cock was hard as a rock.

Milena crawled toward the cowboy. She began worshipping Randy’s manhood.

Randy relished her oral skills. It had missed fucking his gorgeous Slavic tranny girlfriend. He toted Milena to the bed and laid her on her back. He entered her sweet pussy. He fucked her deep in the missionary style as he sucked on her boobs.

“You’re fuckin’ beautiful,” the oil executive admitted.
“You’re sexy too, Randy,” confessed Milena.
“Do you like how my cock feels in your ass?”
“Oh, yes, Daddy! Fuck me!”

Randy delivered his meat to Milena’s booty hole with forceful passion until he ejaculated and collapsed.

They fell asleep spooning. They fucked four more times before checkout the next morning.

Randy promised to visit Milena in Cleveland when he dropped her off at the airport.

Milena arrived in Cleveland. Her brother, Amedej, and his wife, Petra picked her up. They drove in the blue-pearl 2014 Dodge Grand Caravan to the Dorins five-bedroom, three-bath American Foursquare style home.

Inside the house, Milena’s niece and nephew were running wild. Petra’s mother was attempting to calm them down with no success.

Milena stayed with her brother and his family for two months. He helped her purchase a 2011 Chevy Cruze so she could establish credit, open a bank account, and look for an apartment. Milena applied with several banks and financial firms, but had not gotten hired at any. She took a job as a waitress at Toodles – large sports bard downtown.

Milena was popular because of her long platinum-dyed hair, green eyes, and curvy body. She earned a decent living due to nice tips.

Her third week working there, she waited on a table of four attractive Black men. At the end of their meal, she found out they all played for the Cleveland Browns. Their bill was close to three-hundred bucks. Milena received just as much in cash tips from the party. She also had a note asking her to call Marshan.

After her shift, Milena got into her car and headed home. Inside the apartment, she changed clothes and poured a glass of merlot. She decided to make the call.

“Hello,” answered an apprehensive sounding baritone voice.
“Hi, this is Milena. I’m the waitress from Toodles,” the Slovene shared.
“Hell yeah, sexy! How you doin’?”
“I am well. Thank you! How are you?”
“Good now. Where you from?”
“I grew up in Slovenia. But I moved here from Moscow.”
“Miss International. I like your accent. Do you got a man?”
“No, I am single.”
“Bet! You’re sexy as shit, baby! I’d like to be yo’ man.”
“Thank you!”

“How old are you,” asked Marshan.
“I’ll be 29 in June. How old are you?”
“I’m 25, baby! You’re tall. How tall are you?”
“I’m six-feet!”
“Me too. That’s wassup. I weigh two-hundred-twelve pounds. What are you doing tonight?”
“Nothing.”
“Could I come over?”
“Sure!”
“Text me yo’ address.”

They got off the phone and Milena sent her location. Marshan Jackson replied letting her know he’d be there in an hour.

Milena went to bathroom and began to douche. She took a quick shower and put on some strawberry-scented lotion. She dressed in a red midriff tee and a pair of light-wash jeans.

Milena answered Marshan’s incoming call, “Hello!”
“Hey, sexy! I’m at your complex,” the football player said. “Where do I go?”
“Turn left at after the leasing office. Go all the way to end and then make the last right. My building is 1400. It’ll be straight back.”
“Bet! See you in a bit!”

Milena opened the door when he arrived. She offered him a seat.

Marshan had a bottle of Hennessy wrapped in a paper bag. He asked for a glass and some ice. Milena fetched one for him and poured herself some more Merlot.

“Do you smoke, baby,” Marshan inquired.
“A little weed on occasion,” Milena confessed.
“That’s wassup! I brought some.”
“Awesome! What position do you play?”
“Wide receiver.”
“Where are you from?”
“St. Louis. Then, I played ball at Baylor in Texas. Then, I came here. Big weather difference.”

They passed the blunt back and forth.

Marshan poured some coke on the coffee table. “Do you do blow?”
“I’ve tried it,” Milena replied.
“Wanna hit?”
“Sure!”

Marshan snorted a line and moved out of the way so Milena could do the same.

Marshan was tipsy and high so his courage was up. “Show me them titties!”

Milena lifted her top to reveal her perky boobs.

“Wow,” exclaimed Marshan. He fondled them and sucked on her pink nipples. “Damn, baby! I wanna fuck you bad!”

Milena pulled out his dick and started sucking. It grew to a massive ten-inches. She tickled his balls.

“Let’s go to you room,” Marshan suggested before doing another line of cocaine.

He followed the voluptuous Eastern European vixen down the hallway.

Milena sat on her bed and sucked Marshan’s dick some more.

Marshan groped her breasts then stood her up. He unbuckled her jeans and pulled them down along with her panties. “What tha fuck, bitch?!?!? You got a dick,” he yelled referring to the limp two-inch cocklet.”

“I’m a transwoman,” Milena remarked turning around to expose her juicy, smooth, near-perfect, White ass.
“Damn! You built as fuck! Yo’ dick get hard,” the former Baylor Bear rattled off.
“No, daddy!”
“Got damn! I’m horny as shit! Ben’ dat ass ovah!”

Milena sat on the corner of the bed and stuck out her onion-shaped booty.

Marshan slid in behind her. “Ooh wee! Dis shit tight,” he confessed.
“I love the way that big dick feels, baby!”
“Take dis dick!”
“Ooh, yes!”
“I can’t believe I’m fuckin’ a shemale.”
“Your dick is so good in my tranny pussy.”
“Shit! Dis tranny pussy tight!”

Milena and Marshan moved to the center of the bed. He continued pounding her ample ass and smacking it on occasion. After about 15-minutes of hammering the now open pink hole, he pulled out. He flipped her over and nutted on her gorgeous tits. He scooped up the baby batter and fed it to Milena. His dick was still hard so he began to titty fuck the Slovenian beauty.

Marshan put Milena on her side and enter her gaping rectum once more. “Dis pussy so good!”
“Thank you, daddy! Your dick is amazing.”

The professional football player, put the chick with a dick on her stomach and drilled her furiously until he erupted.

They fell asleep.

That morning, Milena woke up to find Marshan had gone. There was a note on the bed next to her. It read, ‘Pussy was good, baby! I’ll call later.’

A week later, Marshan had whisked her away for a long weekend in Honolulu. He fucked her nonstop. He paid for her to get another boob job a month after the Hawaii trip which was how Milena ended up with the Double-Ds.

Milena looked at her iPhone. Her lover would arrive in around half an hour. She poured some more wine and relaxed.

Marshan unlocked the front door with his personal key. He stripped down immediately. Milena led him to the bedroom where she got on all fours. He jumped in her tight pussy post-haste.

“Oh, my god, daddy,” cried Milena. “Fuck me with that big Black cock!”
“You like dis BBC, bitch,” quizzed Marshan.
“Yes, daddy!”
“I love how you take my dick!”
“Yes, daddy! Give it to me!”
“You don’t be naggin’ and shit like my wife!”
“No, daddy! I’m your tranny fuck bitch!”
“Hell yeah!”

Marshan banged Milena for close to hour and then skeeted down her throat.

They took a shower together. Afterwards, Milena made some bacon and eggs. They spent the rest of the chilling and fucking.

Marshan decided to call his wife of 18-months and let her know he would be home in the morning. He wanted to marathon with his tranny.