The soft hum of my laptop filled the quiet of my bedroom, a familiar sound that always set my pulse racing on nights like this. It was just past midnight, April 10, 2025, and I, George—a 42-year-old man with a secret craving—sat in the dim glow of the screen, waiting for her. Ladyboy April. The name alone sent a shiver down my spine. She was a goddess of the webcam world, a star I’d stumbled across months ago on a late-night scroll through an adult site. Her huge cock, her luscious tits, and that sultry smile—she’d hooked me from the first frame, and tonight, I’d finally worked up the nerve to go private with her.
The webcam window flickered to life, and there she was. April lounged on a plush red bedspread, her long, dark hair spilling over her shoulders like silk. She wore a sheer black negligee that clung to her curves, her massive breasts straining against the fabric, nipples peeking through like dark promises. Her legs were spread just enough to tease, the bulge of her enormous cock pressing against her lace panties. My mouth went dry. “Hey, George,” she purred, her voice a smoky melody through my speakers. “Ready for me tonight?”
I typed a quick “Yes,” my fingers trembling as I hit enter. The chat pinged, and she smiled—a slow, knowing grin that made my cock twitch in my boxers. “Good boy,” she said, leaning closer to the camera. “Let’s make this special.” She slid a hand down her chest, cupping one of her huge tits and squeezing, the flesh spilling over her fingers. “You like these, don’t you?” I nodded at the screen, wishing I could reach through and feel her. She giggled, then tugged the negligee down, letting her breasts bounce free—full, round, and begging to be touched.
My breath hitched as she pinched a nipple, rolling it between her fingers. “I bet you’d love to suck these,” she teased, her eyes locked on the camera, on me. “Go on, imagine it.” I did. I closed my eyes for a second, picturing myself there, my lips wrapping around that stiff peak, tasting her skin, feeling the weight of her tit against my face. My hand drifted to my cock, stroking through the fabric as she moaned softly, egging me on. “That’s it, George. Suck me good.”
She shifted, spreading her legs wider, and my gaze dropped to that bulge. It was massive, straining against the lace, and I could see the outline of her thick shaft. “You want this too, don’t you?” she whispered, hooking her thumbs into her panties and sliding them down. Her cock sprang free—huge, hard, and glistening with a bead of precum at the tip. My mouth watered. I’d fantasized about this so many times, jerking off to her public shows, but now it was just us. “Come get it,” she said, stroking herself slowly, the camera zooming in so I could see every vein, every inch of her glorious length.
I typed, “Fuck, I want to suck you so bad.” She laughed, a throaty sound that sent heat pooling in my groin. “Then do it, baby. Pretend I’m right there.” She leaned back, propping herself on her elbows, her cock jutting up like an invitation. I imagined kneeling between her thighs, the scent of her musk filling my nose as I leaned in. In my mind, I licked that glistening tip, tasting her saltiness, then opened wide to take her in. My lips stretched around her girth—God, she was thick—sliding down until I felt her hit the back of my throat. I gagged a little, just like I knew I would, but I didn’t care. I wanted her deep.
On screen, April moaned, her hand pumping faster as if she could feel me. “That’s it, George, suck my big cock. You’re so good at it.” I mirrored her rhythm, stroking myself as I pictured my tongue swirling around her shaft, tracing the underside, then sucking hard on the head. Her tits jiggled with every thrust of her hips, and I couldn’t decide what I wanted more—to bury my face in those perfect breasts or keep worshipping her dick. “Both,” she said, as if reading my mind. “You can have both.”
She sat up, cupping her tits again, pressing them together so the cleavage was a deep, inviting valley. “Start here,” she instructed, and I imagined diving in, my face smothered between her breasts, licking and sucking each nipple in turn. They’d be soft yet firm, warm against my tongue, and I’d tease them until she squirmed. “Harder,” she gasped, pinching herself, and I obeyed in my fantasy, sucking with greedy pulls, leaving her nipples wet and swollen. My cock throbbed in my hand, precum slicking my fingers as I worked myself to her rhythm.
“Now back to this,” she said, gripping her cock again, stroking from base to tip. “Suck me off, George. Make me come for you.” I pictured it vividly—my lips sliding down her length, my hands on her thighs, feeling her muscles tense as I bobbed my head. I’d take her deep, hollowing my cheeks, letting her fuck my mouth slow and steady. Her moans grew louder, her hips bucking on screen, and I matched her pace, my own release building. “You love my huge cock, don’t you?” she panted. “Love sucking it dry.”
“Yes,” I typed, my free hand shaking. “I want your cum.” She grinned, wicked and wild, and grabbed a bottle of lube from the bedside table. She squirted it over her cock, the slick sound driving me wild as she stroked faster, the camera catching every glossy detail. “Then take it,” she said, her voice breaking into a groan. I imagined her thrusting into my mouth, her tip hitting my throat as I sucked harder, desperate to taste her. My tongue would lap at her slit, coaxing out every drop, and I’d feel her pulse against my lips as she got closer.
“Fuck, George, I’m gonna come,” she cried, her hand a blur. I pictured it—her cock twitching, then erupting, hot cum spilling over my tongue, filling my mouth as I swallowed greedily. On screen, she arched her back, her tits bouncing as she came, thick white ropes shooting across her stomach, some hitting her breasts. The sight pushed me over the edge. I groaned, my own orgasm ripping through me, cum spilling over my hand as I gasped her name into the empty room.
She collapsed back, panting, her cock still hard and glistening. “Good boy,” she murmured, smearing her cum over her tits, rubbing it into her nipples. “You sucked me so well.” I stared, spent and dazed, imagining licking her clean—tasting her cum on those perfect breasts, sucking her nipples until she shivered again. “Next time,” she winked, “maybe I’ll fuck you too.” The screen faded as the private session ended, leaving me breathless, my fantasy of Ladyboy April burned into my mind—a night I’d replay again and again.
