A few days after the incident with his uncle my beautiful lover told me that he already had the air ticket to return to his country the following week. In the days that followed I noticed that he seemed very nervous. I didn't know what was going through his head, but it seemed that he no longer wanted to be with me. The night before he was due to leave I
went to his room and I tried to excite him and to provoke his desire with caresses. I needed him to make love to me, but he turned me down sharply. He seemed to be angry with me, ashamed of what had happened between us and said that I was a fag. Now that he was going to return to his wife, his family, his friends, and all his past life, he wanted to erase everything that had happened between us. It was as though I were to blame for everything that happened, that that I had seduced, manipulated, and cheated him. I felt terrible, my eyes filled with tears, in a last attempt to regain his affection I tried to stroke his cheek, a strong slap made me give up. That night in my room I was crying with rage and impotence. Could it be true that I was responsible for everything? I
remembered the early days, the mornings I cleaned his room while he slept when it was almost dark, my excitement, my fears, and how the desire to stroke and caress him slowly grew in me. Who started this? Who caused it? At the time I felt that I was being seduced, was it possible that the situation was reversed? Could I have been the seducer? If so it meant that I was gay, I was a queer even before I met him, and he was just the pretext for these deep impulses come to the surface, impulses which probably lived within me since my early childhood. But apart from him I had never wanted to be with a man. I could make a list of the girls who had loved me, and who I'd fallen in love with. It was true that despite my age I'd never had physical contact with a girl, not a kiss, not even a touch. Early next morning he came to my room to say goodbye. He asked if I'd do him a favor and take a package of things that he could not take back home to his uncle. He also gave me a letter with the uncle's address. Finally he took hasty farewell with just a caress of the back of his hand on my cheek, not a kiss, not even a hug. For a split second I
thought I saw a gleam in his eyes of affection and tenderness for me, that was it. The following day I decided to re-think my life. What was I doing in London? Alone, no friends, no serious work, no project; it was clear that I was not going to write any PhD thesis, and that without any social relations my terrible English would not improve. I had to go home and rebuild my life. Perhaps I wasn't a fag, perhaps it was a perfectly natural for two heterosexual men who are lonely in a strange and hostile country to compensate for the lack of affection and unfulfilled sexual needs. But what I would do with the packet? And the letter? Would I take them to his uncle? I remembered the last time I saw him when he had followed us down the street, and how excited and flattered I had been by his interest in me. I
also remembered the scene in room 208, which caused us both to ejaculate within seconds; and the resulting backlash from my lover. I would be extremely embarrassed to meet him again, not to mention what could happen if I found him alone. That gave me an immediate erection, and this happened despite the tremendous fear of what he might do to me. For two days I resisted, but on the third evening I gave in and found myself walking to Camden Town where his uncle lived. I took the letter and package, but only intended to find out where, and with whom, he lived. Later perhaps I would meet him. The address was an old, dilapidated house. It was dark in the narrow street, and there only black men in this area, three of them sitting beside the door. They looked really mean, when they saw me approaching they stopped talking. I was afraid to go closer and thought of turning back, but then decided that it might be worse if they saw that I was afraid. As I passed them clutching the package tightly one of them one gave me a slap on the ass. "If you show me what you have in the package, I'll show you what I
have here," he said rubbing his penis through his pants. I hurried away until I turned a corner where I paused breathing hard and decided I would not go there. A few seconds later I felt a hand on my shoulder, I turned again ready to run, but there was my lover's uncle. "What are you doing here?" His smile reassured me, he was a really big, strong man, and this time he did not seem ugly. He was clean shaven, dressed in blue overalls, obviously he'd just returned from work at the docks. I explained that his nephew had home and that he had asked me to deliver the package. He invited me to come home with him for a beer. I made an excuse about running late, but he insisted, putting one of his huge hands on my shoulders. A small shiver ran down my body and my penis began to be stiffen. I swallowed hard, and agreed to go with him. As we walked his hand was still on my shoulder, and my erection continued to grow. Approaching the house the three men looked at us, I think they saw the bulge in my pants, but they did not dare to say anything. They greeted my imposing protector respectfully, but he walked right past them without acknowledging their greeting. His home was a single room with a bed, wardrobe, table with two chairs, a small kitchen area, and a tiny bathroom with a shower. It was small, but everything seemed clean and tidy. Once inside I gave him the package, he was about to open it, when I remembered the letter. I took it out of my pocket and gave it to him, he opened it immediately and I saw him smiling as he read it. Then he looked into my eyes, and still smiling, he stroked the back of his hand across my cheek. I blushed and tried to look away mumbling an apology to leave. "Don't go, stay and have dinner with me for bringing me the package, it will not take long." He opened two beers and offered me one. While preparing dinner he asked me about my studies, my family, my projects. I calmed down and realized that he was an intelligent and sensitive man, perhaps he didn't want me sexually. But what was written in the letter, why did he smile as he read it? Maybe it was about me and revealed intimate things about my sexuality, and asked him to be my new lover. What did the package contain? Yes, almost certainly it was the female clothes my former lover had bought for me and sometimes made me wear. Just thinking about it gave me a powerful erection. I tried to move my penis, but just then he turned and saw what I was doing. He smiled, but I got red with embarrassment. Then I saw him also repositioned his penis which was very visibly pushing against the material of his pants. However, he went on as if nothing had happened. We sat at the table and he opened a bottle of wine to accompany the hamburgers that he had just prepared. I did not want to drink wine because I was not used to it and the beer had gone to my head, but before I could say anything he'd poured a couple of glasses. During the meal he told me about his life: he hoped to be able to bring his family to London, his wife, his son who was my age and two youngest daughters. After a second glass of wine I felt a bit dizzy. We finished the meal, and then he pulled out a pipe, and invited me to smoke with him, he said it was a special snuff; I smelled marijuana. We sat on the bed, my head was beginning to spin, but I tried to control myself and not inhale the smoke. It made no difference, the room was already smoke filled. By this time I knew that I
wasn't going to be leaving the room that night. He put one large hand on my leg and the other on my shoulder and pushed me back down on the bed, I lay still, paralyzed, unable to turn my face and look into his eyes. I was shaking, my heart was pounding as though it would explode. "Relax, I'm not going to hurt you," he said as he pressed his chest against mine. We lay there for a few minutes; slowly I relaxed and my breathing slowed down. He removed his hand from my knee and slowly began to unbutton my shirt, I gulped, and held my breath again. His big warm hand touched my bare chest, and again my heart felt as though it might burst. He must have felt it beating because he pressed his hand on my heart and gradually it slowed to a normal rate. The tip of his fingers brushed my nipples, I began to moan as a huge wave of pleasure washed over me. I leaned my face against his chest, his hand lifted my chin and made me look into his eyes. His gaze seemed to penetrate me, I tried to turn my head, but he wouldn't let me. His lips came up to mine barely touching them, I could not bear to wait any longer and pressed my lips to his. In an instant his wet tongue ran across my parched lips. It was super exciting, but I did not understand why he prolonged my agony with his excruciating slowness. Suddenly he lifted me up to stand between his legs, and he quickly stripped me: shoes, socks, pants, and finally when he eased down my underpants my erect penis sprang free. His hands began to stroke me, one in front and the other behind, virtually all-embracing my ass with one hand, the other wrapped around my penis and testicles. His thick lips nibbled my tender nipples, his finger, big as a penis, penetrate my mouth, my tongue caressed it as I sucked. He withdrew his finger and when I felt his hand slide down my back I spread my legs to show him that I was willing. A moment later the tip of that wet finger was easing its way into my anus. It only went in a little bit, I
wanted him to go further, but he pulled it out and stood up. He sat me down on the bed and he began to undress himself, folding his clothes neatly and putting them on a chair. His body was imposing and muscular, his smooth, dark skin shone, curly black hair on his chest and thighs, and the shape of his erect penis obscene under his white underpants. Now it was he who stood between my legs, clearly he hoped I
would finish undressing him. I pulled down his underpants and his ebony penis stood naked before my eyes. I began to stroke it with the tips of my fingers, my gaze was mesmerized by the beautiful organ and the precum oozing from the rosy slit of the glans. I caressed it with my cheek. I held the shaft in one hand, so thick that my fingers were not able to completely encircle it. With my other hand I caressed his huge, silky testicles, and with the tip of my tongue I licked the liquid which leaked steadily from the slit. Then he wrapped his strong arms around my body and lifted me, I
linked my hands around his neck tilting my head up looking for his lips. We kissed deeply, his tongue and mine, our bodies rubbing passionately against each other, my penis against one of his thighs, his reaching up to my waist. I lost all inhibitions, my tongue sucked and kissed his nipples, my eager hands ran over his body as I rubbed my super excited penis against his thigh. He stopped my frenzy with a strong slap on my ass. "Relax, we have all night," he said laying me down on the bed face up. "Come, show me what my nephew tells me you do so well." Of course I would show him! I didn't want him to ever forget this night. I got off the bed and moved around his body, caressing him with my fingers and my lips, sometimes light as feathers, other times pushy and possessive. He groaned, he moaned. His penis had already shed more precum than I could pour into an orgasm. Several times I had to stop my caressing to twist and tweak his penis to stop an impending orgasm. I could not touch my own penis, nor even let it touch his body, my tip was also dripping and on the verge of orgasm, the lightest touch, and I would have cum. He called for a pause, pulled out a bottle of rum and poured two glasses, then relit his marijuana pipe. Our sweaty bodies glowed, our penises gradually lost some of their rigidity, then he handed me the package. "Go to the bathroom and make yourself beautiful." Clearly my guess about the contents of the package and the letter were confirmed. I felt humiliated, would he want to change my gender? I felt angry and thought about leaving. But then he smiled at me, and put his hand on my shoulder. "You want make me happy, don't you?" He spun me around, and with a strong slap on my bare ass pushed me towards the small bathroom. I turned defiantly touching my sore, hot ass and he looked me up and down slowly. "It's just so you learn who is the boss here," he said clutching his penis with one hand. My penis betrayed me, it started to rise, he saw it and smiled. "My handsome boy, do what you have to do," and he sat down at the table again. I kept looking at him, furious and rubbing my sore buttock. He poured himself a glass of rum punch and began to smoke the pipe without looking at me. I went to the bathroom, closed and latched the door, then sat on the toilet to reflect. I did not like the way he had treated me and was not willing to pamper him, but my erect penis seemed to feel differently. His aggressiveness both annoyed and excited me. I opened the package, there was lingerie, underwear, suspenders, garters, panties, negligees, petticoats, thongs, camisoles, shoes, white, red, black, high heels. These were gifts my old lover had given me from time to time. There was also perfume, lubricants, and makeup. I lifted the perfumed, semi-transparent, white silk camisole with lace on the edges to my lips. Then remembered the evening that my first lover gave it to me. That was the first time I'd worn women's underwear. The effect of its soft touch on my skin was overwhelming, it excited me, as did the shining eyes of my lover full of desire. That was when I discovered the seductiveness of my body; how to raise my legs; how to stretch my arms above my head; how to move my pelvis; how to smile. I rubbed the soft fabric, looked at my erect penis and smiled. From its tip hung a drop of seminal fluid. I picked it up with a
fingertip, took it to my mouth and savored it. `Yes, yes, I will get dressed in those clothes,' I thought, `I too have powers, and I know how to use them to make him do what I want.' After making the decision I felt much better, imagining his reaction when he saw me made me feel calm and confident. `No, I don't give a damn what the rest of the world feels about it, dressing like a girl excites me.' I perfumed my body, I put on the chemise, stockings and garter belt, and the high heels. My penis, which had softened in the shower, swelled on contact with the panties. Still it was not very big and the whole length was hidden under the panties. (By the way, I would have preferred a somewhat smaller penis, especially when it is erect, I think it is too masculine when I dress in women's clothes.) I used some makeup: eyes, lips, cheeks. I also lubricated my anus. I looked in the small mirror. `Yes, yes, I'm very handsome and pretty, I like myself,' I
said to myself, then blew myself a kiss in the mirror and went out to conquer a new lover. I opened the bathroom door, he turned his head, the bottle of rum was half empty, he must be a little bit drunk. I didn't care. I raised one arm over my head and placed it on the door frame, and my other hand on my hip. I stretch my legs in a sexy pose, arching my body with a seductive smile. His eyes sparkled, his face lit up and he stretched a hand toward me. I walked slowly on my high heels, put a hand on his shoulder and stood between his legs. One of his hands slid up behind my legs rubbing my silk stockings from my ankles to the exposed skin between the top of the stockings and the lace of my panties. My skin was fresh and clean, his hand warm. His other hand was around my body moving up and down feeling the shape of my body through the thin fabric. Clearly he was enjoying the contact because I watched as his penis slowly rose. I looked into his eyes smiling, he breathed in deeply inhaling my scent. "Forgive me if I was a little rough with you," he said hoarsely. "It doesn't matter, I know you're going to be a good boy, you'll see how happy I will make you," I muttered softly in his ear as I caressed his neck with one hand. The hand stroking my leg slipped under my panties and caressed my buttocks, his other hand reached under my camisole and stroked my nipples. The contact between the rough skin of his warm hand and my soft and fresh skin was exquisitely exciting. I wanted to make this last so I
tried to stop him. I leant my head down seeking his lips and barely brushed them with my wet tongue. He kissed me hard. I tried to control myself, but my tongue entered his mouth. His breath smelled of alcohol, his male perfume. I opened my lips to admit his fingertips, his moan of pleasure drowned mine. His other hand covered all my masculinity. I got carried away by the wave and surrendered to him, front and rear, my mouth, my lips, my penis, my ass, my whole body was his, not mine. My gift to him was unconditional. I tried to caress his beautiful erect penis, but he picked me up and threw me on the bed. For a moment my mind captured the scene, like a
photograph, a moment of space-time. I, wrapped in exquisite feminine clothes, my arms outstretched toward him, parted my long legs to show him my erect sex. His muscular body, arms, chest, legs, neck, thighs, erect penis, desire, desire and passion. Two forms of masculinity face to face, awaiting the magical moment between past and future. Who could appreciate the beauty, the magic? The penis, only a few centimeters of flesh, embodies the limits of masculinity. The intimacy between the trembling hemispheres of a young man wrapped in female silks, thighs lubricated, penis erect, ready, eager for penetration a thousand times desired. To be or not to be of male sexuality, waiting for his supreme consecration. His imposing glans, smooth, lubricated, contacted the tender cleft between the perfect hemispheres of a young, beautiful, and happy man. I
pulled down the panties to mid-thigh baring part of my long, beautiful white legs, offering him my erect penis. Then I took them right off. I felt desirable, beautiful, female. I offered him my ass, his tongue licked at it, then penetrated my tight sphincter. I remembered my experiences when I'd licked girls, my tongue playing with their little clitorises. Now my lover's needs became pressing, his tongue moved to my penis. When I wrapped my legs around his strong neck he sucked both my cock and balls into his mouth as if I was his girl. A sort of languor came over me. I opened up for him, willing to sacrifice everything to his needs, accept the pain to give him what he needed. "I want to be yours, I want to be yours with all the strength of my soul," I murmured. "I want to feel my body being opened as your beautiful penis penetrates slowly into me, like you are conquering the inside of my body." It would not be the first time the miracle had happened, my first lover made me feel this way so many times, but it would be the first time that such a monstrous member had penetrated me, a man I barely knew, a
black giant. I feel female, infinitely vulnerable and beautiful. I closed my eyes, concentrating my mind and soul on the sensations that awaited me. I felt the pressure as his penis lodged in my sphincter, then a stab of pain. I parted my legs further to give him better access, but only the tip penetrated. I pressed down as though to shit, and then... Then the miracle occurred. It was the first time that our beings were fused into one another, our eyes melted. His penis penetrated and in one stroke swept away all resistance; our beings were fused into one another. I knew that this was the way to happiness and accepted the pain gratefully. Seeking his lips our mouths met, his tongue also penetrated me. I wrapped my legs around his body, he was mine and mine alone. He was happy, I was happy, the game playing was over, this was the truth, the desire, the passion of my inmost being. For a while he remained still inside me: I felt full. I looked into his eyes and smiled. He moved his penis inside of me, I could feel it deep in my body, the pain was gone, now there was only pleasure. Our tongues played, and gradually his penis started to move inside me filling my mind with flowers, light and color. Gradually he picked up the pace of the onslaught on my asshole as I tightened my sphincter seeking to give him more pleasure. I do not know how long it lasted, we were both in a trance induced by marijuana, rum, unsatisfied desire, loneliness, fear. The rest of the universe disappeared, our bodies and minds were intertwined, our beings made one. Groans, words of love, "More, more, my love, yeah, yeah, yeahÉ" Then his thrusts became stronger, more violent, I felt as if his huge penis was piercing my body from end to end. I wrung his nipples, I
scratched his back, but he kept thrusting, determined to fill my body with his sperm.
Suddenly I felt that I was about to cum without even touching myself! I started moaning, and screaming in a voice that I did not recognize. My sphincter went into a spasm that squeezed his penis tightly as it sank deeper into my body, while from his throat came a profound, almost bestial sound. I remembered nothing more until I woke some time later. I felt the weight of his body crushing me. His breathing was deep, he'd fallen asleep, but his penis is still deep within me. I felt possessed and happy. Now I did not want to think about what had just happened, or its consequences. I didn't want to think about the future, I wanted to focus only on right now. After a while I was beginning to get uncomfortable, I needed to move my legs. I stroked his neck and back, slowly he awoke, then rolled over on to his back pulling me over too so that I was now on top of him. My chemise was glued to my body, wrinkled and smeared with my makeup that had run. I tried to ease my way free, but he held me close, and I felt his penis beginning to grow inside me. I sat up, my penis was also growing and soon we were both erect. I moved a little revealling part of his large cock lubricated by our sweat and his semen. I rode him, very slowly at first, his penis sliding up and down inside me. I felt no pain and wondered how my body had adjusted to his enormous penis, I never thought it would be so easy to perfect our union. Then, like an accomplished horsewoman, I took charge, I set the pace. The obedient horse obeyed my command. Now he trotted, his penis sliding in and out, in and out. My erect penis also throbbed to the pace of our coupling, but gradually I lost control. He held my waist with both hands, I placed my hands on his muscular shoulders, he looked into my eyes and smiled, then increased the pace until we were galloping, galloping at full speed. I was not in control of anything now. Now my runaway horse was dragging me toward the prairies of intense pleasure along the Rio Grande. I
arched my back and let out a scream of pleasure as my penis ejected bursts semen on his body. I held his head in my hands, his tongue in my mouth, his penis deep in my gut filled me with his juices. Suddenly he dismounted and ran into the bathroom saying that he was late for work. A moment later I realized he had already gone. I was very tired, but happy. My body smelled strongly of semen and sweat, I closed my eyes and woke up two hours later. It was six o'clock, I had to get back to the hostel. Going into the bathroom I felt my lover's sperm trickling down my legs. With my hands I tried to stop it leaking on to the floor. Once I
was in the shower I let it out, thick and hot. I liked the smell, took it to my lips, tasted it with my tongue, I loved the taste. In my mind I
re-lived the night, my penis began to stiffen, and there in the shower I
masturbated with one hand slick with his semen as I worked the fingers of my other hand up into my lubricated but sore anus. Coming out of the bathroom I saw a key on the floor, and note that said: "This is for you when you want to return." All morning I cleaned rooms like a sleepwalker, remembering every detail of the night before, and frequently had to adjust my penis to hide my erection. For me this had been a very special experience. The pleasure I
gave my new lover was more intense than it had been with his nephew, it was on another level, in another category. This new relationship was more fulfilling, physically, psychologically and sexually. In fact I felt wrapped in a new sensation I had not felt with my former lover. It was more than just sex. I felt loved, and intensely loving, unconditionally surrendering to his desires. I wanted to be with him, and not just to fuck. Maybe it was loneliness, my anxiety about staying in London, useless and meaningless, deepened day by day, especially since my former lover had left. He was a partner, and there hadn't been so much of an age difference, nor cultural difference between us. With his uncle everything was different; I was half his age and strength, he could be my father, he made me feel more feminine, more protected. I remembered the respect with which he was greeted by the drug traffickers who had harassed me at the door of his house.
Yes, I would definitely return, clean everything, prepare a nice dinner. I would be very sexy. The mere thought of seeing him again left me trembling with excitement. The only problem was that the three traffickers would probably be at the door before he arrived home. I especially feared the one who gave me a slap on the ass. Without my protector, they might kidnap me, drug me, rape me? Imagining these possibilities was terrifying, but also strangely exciting. On the other hand felt that my stay in London had to end, I had to go home, resume my life, and try to erase from my mind all that had happened there.
What would I do?
Please, write me if you like this story, your comments encouraged me to continue writing. firstname.lastname@example.org