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COCKWASHED By Katharine Sexkitten cockwashed verb "kok.wah-shed" believing that there is no greater joy in life than worshipping cocks, leading to giving into the desires to suck cock and be fucked by cock, by frequently being exposed to it or repeatedly being shown that it is true and thereby realizing ones true place in life. other tenses: cockwashing, cockwasher, cockwash I have been cockwashed. It's like being brainwashed, but as opposed to some radical philosophy or violent crusade, being cockwashed isn't bad for others, or you. Now, some would argue that point, and claim that being cockwashed is the same as suffering from Stockholm Syndrome. But that's completely wrong. Stockholm Syndrome comes from acquiescing to other ideas via coercion, in usually extreme circumstances. Being cockwashed doesn't happen against your will. It happens because it's your true nature. It doesn't lead to misery, or heartache. It leads to a life-time of happiness. It's really good for you. Well, it's really good for me. I am cockwashed. COCK You don't notice it, going through the day-to-day. The little things, minor one-off incidents and accidents, that end up shaping your life, in some way, big or small. There's an accumulation of events, that start out slowly, and then like a snowball running downhill they gain momentum, until they become huge and try to take over. For some people, they adapt, and the snowball disappears. For me, I became a snowball that has never stopped rolling. And all of it has been about one thing. COCK I was a mistake. My parents never expected to have another child that late in their lives. Dad was fifty-five and mom was forty-nine. For several years they'd been under the impression that she was past any chance of being fertile and had stopped using birth control. They'd gotten away with it for a long time, until me. So I was completely unexpected. HARD COCK My sister was already mid-twenties. She'd grown up and left the house and got married and had two kids of her own. My brother was six years older than me when I came home. Growing up, it was usually just me and mom. I had friends in school, but I never really got to do much with my brother owing to our age difference. There were times I heard one or both of my parents ask him to let me hang out with him, pal around with him, do things with him, but he would usually, and rightly, beg off by reminding them that there was nothing he was doing that I could physically keep up with, at every age. He was right. But there were times when he and I played games, inside. Stuff I couldn't get hurt doing. He taught me how to play pool, YOU WANT COCK on the big table in the basement. He taught me how to play chess. He turned me on to science fiction, and some heavy rock music. He was a pretty good brother, in those ways. He helped me with homework, from time to time, that sort of thing. It's not that I wasn't somewhat athletic, because I was. Somewhat. I was never the first kid called for the team, but I was never the last either. I was slim and short, but I could run as fast as the wind, and I was lithe. I was very bendy. COCK From my earliest memory, I was fascinated by my own penis. I touched it constantly. My parents were always telling me to stop playing with myself. I couldn't help it. If my hands weren't busy doing something else, they were caressing and fondling and feeling and rubbing my pee- pee and balls. Cock was the center of my life. My mom loved old movies of Broadway musicals, and if one was on t.v. we'd watch them together. From the first, I loved the way the women were usually glamourous, and sexy. Cyd Charisse, man she had a body on her. And those legs! The music was usually uplifting, and the dancing was always showy. I would imitate Gene Kelly and Fred Astaire in the living room. ERECT COCKS Mom would sit and watch me and smile as if she was never happier. Sometimes, especially when the dancers were holding each other, cheek- to-cheek, I would imitate the woman. Ginger Rodgers. Cyd. Vera Ellen. So many of them, gorgeous feminine women, real girly girls, who had softness and beauty and at the same time had strength and passion and athleticism and could dance the lights out. My dad had a serious industrial accident at work when I was seven or so. He was almost at retirement age anyway, so he called it a career. And he tried, but his age, combined with a very bad back, meant there were never any traditional dad-son activities. We never tossed a ball, or played catch. Sometimes he'd watch me peel around on my bike, or run faster than the wind, and smile proudly and wink at me and tell me I was great. But he had to spend most of his time in his chair, resting his spine. We grew up in a quiet suburban area, outside the big city by about an hour. Lots of side streets and cul-de-sacs scattered here and there, with plenty of parks and forested areas, so it was almost rural. BIG THROBBING COCK We had a huge back yard, as did everybody, ours being mostly undeveloped, with lots of tall trees, and a tree fort my dad and brother built years ago. My elementary school, and then junior high and senior high were all a quick bike ride away. Nobody drove their kids to school back then. The air was fresh, and the walk or bike would do a body good. Growing up, I had some friends. Not too many. I seemed to enjoy spending more time with less people than less time with more people. My best friend in elementary school was Mike Fantetti. He was the opposite of me, looks-wise. His heritage was Mediterranean, so he had olive- coloured skin and jet black hair and could grow a full moustache and beard in about an hour by the time he was fifteen. I, being of Scottish forefathers and mothers, was red-headed and pale and freckly, hairless, with naturally rosy cheeks. But we both had a similar sense of humour, and we both liked to ride our bikes everywhere, and we got along pretty good. One time, when we were around twelve or thirteen, Mike and I and a couple of other boys from school were at Mike's house, hanging out in his bedroom, just goofing off, like kids do. His older brother came in, and insulted all of us smaller boys, and then YOU WANT TO TASTE COCKS asked if we all wanted to see some dirty pictures. The other boys were all into it, so I said sure. What he had was a collection of eight-by- ten black and white pics of an orgy. Literally. Not some printed off stills from a porn production. The photography was talentless, the lighting was bland, and the performers were real folks. Not gym bodies, save for a few. The house itself looked boring and middle-class and like a hundred houses in our area. The floor of a basement den was completely covered with normal everyday people, not models, engaged in all sorts of sexual activity. Like I said, the lighting was poor, in some shots, and some of the pics were taken from extremely close up. The first shot I saw was a grotesquely hairy vagina, shiny wetness everywhere, split open by an erect penis. The camera was right there. I could almost reach out and feel the cock. COCK It was stunning. World-changing. My first thought was that it must be painful for the woman, having been pierced and entered by the man like that. The next few pics that got passed to me were of more nudity and sex. Tits, by the dozens, cocks, some hard and some soft, some cut and some uncut, pussies, most hairy but some shaved, asses, curvy, some people naturally hairless and some forested, mouths, some open in joy, some filled with flesh. But above all, there were cocks. Cocks! Cocks cocks and more cocks. Men mounting women in the doggy position, men shoving themselves into women in the spoon position, men on top in the missionary position. HARD COCK, IN YOUR MOUTH There were also a few shots of women kissing each other, and/or fingering each other. And/or performing oral sex on each other. That changed me. Same-sex activity. Right there in front of me. I'd never considered it before, never imagined anything other than 'the norm'. I had a hard-on. The biggest of my life, up to that point. My brain said, no, this is wrong, it isn't natural, it's not right, people talk about 'gay' and 'lesbian' as bad, and evil, and sinful. That's what the priests always said, and the nuns, of my early Catholic school. But my hard-on said "YES!" I didn't understand, but it just felt right. It felt natural. Why shouldn't women make love with women? They're soft, and rounded, and delicate, and beautiful, YOU WANT TO TASTE HARD COCKS and two of them together, or more, is the sexiest thing I'd ever imagined, right there in front of me, in vivid black and white. Then a few shots later there was a picture of two men, embracing, and kissing. Their eyes were closed, their hands were on each other's chest, their penises were erect and hairy and touching and I could fairly feel them throbbing. Their kiss was deep, open-mouthed, and commanding. I couldn't take my eyes off them. So much in love, so much in lust. Two men, kissing. Sharing saliva, sucking face. And oh my god, two big hot erections. One circumcised, one not. Both of them, wet at the tip, with their excitement. Again, my world became more complete. COCK Luckily, I had enough decorum not to spend too much time staring at the picture. I wanted to take it home with me. But I knew if I got caught ogling, I'd never live it down, so I feigned some "eww" sound and passed the photo along. Didn't want the boys to think I was "that way". Then a few pics later, there was one that instantly and monumentally etched itself in the very bottom of my soul, directly in my DNA, where it could never be erased or moved, and from where it eventually controlled everything. DRIPPING COCKS One man, laying on his back, his body akin to mine, slim and hairless and shiny in the flash of the camera, his legs up in the air, pointed towards the ceiling, and spread, wide, his little penis erect, pointed towards his own tummy, his belly covered in white globby liquid, his balls tiny and pulled up towards his body, his eyes opened in abject shock, wider than they'd ever been, his mouth stretched open, agape, to the point where I could almost hear the soul-wracking moan of his orgasmic delight, and above him, a much larger hairier man, with a hairy ass, and his wet glistening hard erect cock buried mostly inside the smaller man's asshole. Same-sex love. Same-sex fucking. I was never the same after seeing that. A week later, Mike and I were playing video games in his bedroom, and out of the blue he asked me if I'd enjoyed the pictures his brother had shown us. I said yes, of course. He asked me what shocked me the most, and before I could think of anything TAKE COCKS INTO YOUR MOUTH I just blurted out, "all the hair the men have, you know, down there." Mike just laughed, and said all adult men have that, and then pulled his pants down right in front of me, to show me. He had pubic hair. I did not. He was a man. I, apparently, was not. He was showing me his penis. And his balls. ERECT COCK He wasn't as covered in hair as the men from the orgy pics, but he was getting there, already. I was shocked, and in awe, at the sight of his naked penis. It was paler than the rest of him, though not by much, and it moved a little to and fro, as he moved to and fro. He did not have a foreskin, and the head looked like a plum, or a strange-shaped helmet of some sort. I couldn't take my eyes off him. It was riveting. It wasn't the biggest bedroom in the world, and we were close enough that I could have reached out and touched his penis, if I'd wanted to. And for just a brief, fleeting moment, I did want to. I was being mesmerized by cock. Society's strange rules held me back. His family moved away when I was fourteen. I was broken-hearted, but I tried hard not to let anyone know. I kept a stiff upper lip. I think my mom knew, and she spent a lot of time encouraging me to dance, because she knew that made me happy. It did. My brother had a best friend throughout his whole life, a guy named Ronald. Everybody called him Ron, or Ronny. His family dynamic wasn't always so good, so he spent a lot of his life growing up at our house. He didn't live with us, other than the occasional overnight crash after a party or something, but he was there a lot. He was the same age as my brother, HOT COCKS, TOUCH THEM! so six more than me. He became so familiar at our place that my parents called him their unofficially adopted son to anyone who asked, and he always called them 'mom' and 'dad'. Ron grew up fast, physically. By the time he was sixteen he was six foot three and weighed two hundred twenty pounds. He was just one of those naturally blessed men who were muscular. Not steroid-monkey gym-rat muscular, but built. Toned. Ripped, by the grace of evolution. When I was eight and nine and ten, my older brother was in his teens, obviously, and even into his early twenties was still living at home. Anyway, he and Ron and other friends would often spend hours outside our house, playing basketball on the portable hoop at the end of our driveway. They'd shoot forever, sweating like crazy in the sun, almost always wearing just their sneakers and some shorts. Working on their tans, I suppose, while they stayed in shape. Ron was golden-skinned. I would watch them play all day. They would sweat and glisten in the sun, their bodies shiny. One of the regulars was a black guy, Vern. He always called me 'squirt', with a big smile on his face. He had the darkest skin of anyone I'd ever seen, even the other black guys in the area, some I went to school with. And in his shorts, which were nylon with the two stripes, Vern had the most rounded bum cheeks of anyone I'd ever seen, man or woman, and he had a mind- bogglingly prominent lump in the front. HARD BLACK COCK I'd noticed it, over the years, but never assigned any sexual recognition to it. It was just the way it was. Ron called me 'kiddo'. I could watch them play all day long. Every once in a while the ball would go loose, and off the 'court', and I'd chase it down and bring it to them. Vern would tousle my hair and say 'thanks, squirt'. Ron would hold his palm out, HARD COCK, COVERED IN PRE-CUM asking for a high-five, and I'd slap his hand as hard as I could. Once in a blue moon, they'd ask me to "in" the ball, from the side-line, pass it to one of them. Even rarer, they'd allow me to take a shot, pretending to clear the key for me, give me an open lane. They were all good-natured about it. I discovered that I was a good dancer, because dance was one of the courses in PhysEd, starting in grade eight, and I was instantly one of the stars of the show. The teachers would get everyone to watch me, and a girl named Karen, who could dance the lights out, as we demonstrated waltzes and foxtrots and tangos and whatever. Karen and I just naturally took to it. We moved together well. We learned each new step almost instantly. She was lithe, an inch shorter than me, and smelled great, and had curly dirty blonde hair and a big smile and no breasts to speak of and a great round firm ass. We were being groomed for competitive dance. In grade nine we began training with a dance teacher. Mrs. Cumberland. An older English lady who still had a pretty thick accent. She was so strict, KISS COCK it wasn't funny. But, I begrudgingly admitted that she made us better dancers. When we were sixteen we entered a tournament, an hour away, in the city. We had costumes designed. Mine was a neon yellow satin shirt, with my hair greased back, and the tightest black satin pants I'd ever seen. The first time I put them on, Mrs. Cumberland took one look and stopped the lesson. Then she took me to a smaller room and told me that I couldn't wear my usual boy underwear under such tight pants, that they left ugly lumps and lines. I told her that's the only kind of undies I owned. So she disappeared for a few minutes, and then brought me a pair of panties. Panties. Feminine, female, girls panties. They were lace, almost white in colour, which I learned was actually called "bone", and cut so that there was a tiny strip going round my waist, a tiny strip going up in between my bum cheeks, and a tiny patch of fabric to cover my genitals. That's it. My first thoughts were that I couldn't wear such things. I protested. As with everything, Mrs. Cumberland won. I slipped them on, and then slid into my trousers. Naturally, I looked in the mirror. To my utter amazement, she'd been right. There were no lines. My bum looked round and smooth. I realized it looked sexy. Which gave me a hard-on. As big as anything I'd had before. I had to pretend I needed to go pee, and spent a few minutes in the bathroom, willing myself to not be hard. When I went back to the lessons, Karen looked amazing in her tight dress, and when she spun and the skirt flared I could easily see she was wearing a garter belt and stockings. My first thought was, OH MY FUCKING GOD, THAT'S SEXY! and then my second thought was WHY DON'T I GET TO WEAR THEM TOO? Dancing, dressed as I was, from that moment forward, always always always gave me thrills, gave me goosebumps, gave me an elevated heart rate. It always made my penis float on that level of wanting to get hard, and trying to get hard, but staying soft enough to get through life unnoticed. I learned to love that level. At our first competition, I was exposed to a lot. Egos, spite, competition, and disdain. From other competitors, and their fans. And yes, some of them had fans. I was also exposed to men of all ages, from teens like me to fully-grown adults, changing backstage. Sometimes down to their skivvies. Sometimes down to totally naked. SOFTLY KISS AND TONGUE COCK I saw cocks. More than a few of them. I walked around in a blur, trying hard not to stare, and yet staring all the time. I was in heaven, but I didn't know it yet. One of the judges, a tall older handsome gentleman with a glint in his eye and a reputation that preceded him, came up to me after our two dances and told me he was very impressed with my dancing. He waxed euphoric about how good I was. He flattered me, and made me feel warm and wanted. I noticed he had a very big lump in his pants. COCK I was so desirous, so wanting. I knew that I had no idea what to do with a cock, but that I desperately wanted to find out what it felt like, to touch, to hold, to admire, to fondle, to kiss, oh my god yes to kiss, to lick, to suck. WET COCK But the fears of na?ve youth and years of cautionary words from my teacher got the better of me, and I found a way to leave. Mrs. Cumberland had told me many times that with my body being what it was, "creepy" old men, poofs she called them, would find ways to approach me at competitions. They'd try to seduce me, to make me their little homosexual plaything. I never believed her, until this good-looking judge quietly asked me if I'd like to spend some time at his hotel room, where he would regale me with show business stories, and give me his advice and wisdom, as someone who had been following dance and dancers for decades. I regretted it, after, not going, even though I had no idea what might have actually happened. He could have been a perfectly straight heterosexual human being with an absurdly keen interest in how teen-aged boys like me danced. But, just remembering the bulge in his pants fueled my masturbatory action that night. I made myself cum all over myself, and then dreamed of swallowing it all. I dreamed that I loved the taste of my cum, and my fascination with cocks in general kept telling me that I should try to be with one, try to find one to kiss and lick and suck and hopefully make cum and then swallow. But I was afraid. And don't get me wrong, I was plenty interested in girls too. I really wanted to have sex with a girl. I wanted to have sex. Period. There were bullies, of course. Every school has them. Every neighbourhood has them. And being smaller than most of my peers, and a dancer to boot, meant I was called every cruel name under the sun, in the halls and such. Fag. Homo. Bitch. Fudge-packer. Girly-boy. I always figured the best response was no response at all, so I always just ignored them. After school, occasionally, I had to run. I was faster than all the big boys, the bullies, and could embarrass them by more or less leaving them in my dust. Teachers from time to time would hear about things, and one or two of them SWALLOW COCK AND CUM would discretely ask me if I wanted them to do anything about the bullies, report them, and I always said no. I could out-run them. That seemed good enough to me. When I was a month shy of seventeen, I was on my way home from a bike ride just at dusk, the sky almost black, and I was about a block away from my street, when I got jumped. Danny Dornick and Russell Carveth. Two of the worst bullies. They'd grown quickly, so they bullied anybody they wanted in school, and very rarely faced any consequences. They'd managed to stop me, and corner me, and knock me off my bike. At first it was name-calling and pushing, nothing major. I kept trying to be rational about things, agreeing with them that I was a pussy or whatever bad name they were calling me, hoping they'd be satisfied with that and let me go. But they were beyond reason that night. Danny hit me first, across the face. It was open-palmed, but it shook me, and I felt my left cheek swelling immediately. I'm sure I cried out. Then Russell punched me, hard, trying to knock the wind out of me, but missing my tummy and hitting my chest instead, ramming his hand into my rib cage, which hurt me like hell. I could tell it pissed him off, and probably hurt, because he shook his hand a few times and loudly cursed at me. Sometimes, over the years, I could assuage bullies with humour, or diffuse the situation with intellect. Not this time. That's when I became really scared. I'd never been in the shit this far. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was in danger, very real and imminent. My back went icy cold, all the way up through my neck and into my brain. My hands were shaking, with nerves. With fear. Suddenly, I couldn't see a happy ending. Then Russell winded up, to hit me again. I could tell he was going for my face, this time. I cringed, hoping to lessen the blow, and lessen the obvious damage to my face. His fist never landed. Just as it started coming towards me, a movement from my right shocked me, and then the two bullies disappeared from my view. As I fell to the ground, my arms up trying to cover my face and head and torso, I heard grunts and moans and people in genuine pain. I risked a look, in my cowering, and saw Danny and Russell on the ground, and Ron between them, as he punched both of them over and over again, wherever their hands weren't protecting. He was way bigger, and older, and strong. Ron kept whisper-yelling at them too, as he punched them, so the neighbourhood wouldn't hear him. "You like hitting people littler than you?" he hissed. "Look at the two big men here, beating up little kids! Well, now you know what it's like, don't you? HUH? You like it? You like getting your ass kicked? DO YA?" He just kept hitting them. Finally, after they were both unable to even defend themselves anymore, he pulled them both up onto their feet, by the scruff of their shirts, and made sure they could see the rage in his eyes. Then he got really quiet. He was whispering to them, and I couldn't hear what he was saying. All I saw was both of them bleeding, and crying, and begging to be let go. Ron threw them both to the ground, and they landed hard. Then he stood over them, and said, "if you ever bother him again, if you ever even look at him the wrong way again, I'll find you, and I'll make sure you never bully another living soul. Ever. You understand?" They both nodded, vigorously. Ron kicked them both in the ass, as he allowed them to get up. Then he told them to "fuck off", and they moved faster than I'd ever done. Once he was satisfied that they were no longer a threat to me, he turned and, seeing me on the ground, on my side, he sat down beside me. "You okay, kiddo?" That's when the seriousness and gravity of the situation finally hit me. The danger was over, and my adrenaline was nowhere near receding, and then my brain realized that I had come so close to real pain and torture. And that's when I started sobbing. Crying. Body-shaking gulps of air, and rivers of tears streaming down my face. I was fifteen, and in many ways still a child inside, and the trauma overwhelmed me. Ron, who had to be twenty-one at the time, reached over and put his hand on my shoulder, moving it to my back, which he began gently caressing. "It's over, kiddo," he said, genuine concern in his voice, "you're okay. You're going to be fine." His words and tone were warm, and almost filled me with peace. I wanted to take his positivity and use it, but I had been so scared, and it takes a while to truly calm down, and I couldn't stop sobbing or crying. Ron leaned over, and got his face close to mine in the late evening light, looking at where Danny had hit me. His fingers gently touched my cheekbone, and then he wiped a tear or two away. He kept telling me I was okay, that I'd be fine. He was soothing, and soft, and exactly what I needed. He encouraged me to sit up, which I did, and he wrapped his left arm around my shoulders, pulling me into him. I buried my head in the crook of his neck, crying my eyes out, my body wracking with throbs and tremors and shakes, all the terror that my brain could imagine having been so close. I'd never been more scared in my life. All those years of being able to run away from trouble ended this time. I'd never been in a fight before. Perhaps it was his innate humanity. Perhaps it was because he was more or less my unofficially-adopted big brother. I don't know to this day what inspired him. In any event, my crying wouldn't stop, or slow down, and neither would my shaking, so Ron whispered, "c'mere" as he pulled me around, and I allowed myself to be pulled into a full body hug. Except we were sitting down, on the ground. So I just spread my legs, and wrapped them around his body, as his arms pulled me in, and my arms went up around his neck. Body to body. His torso, bigger than mine, seemed to almost wrap around me. I pushed my head further into his neck, with my forehead touching his ear. He just kept murmuring reassurances that I was okay, everything was alright, the bad boys were gone, and I was safe. It took me a few minutes, but eventually I started crying less, and sobbing less, and shaking less, all in time with the growing realization that I was indeed okay. Things were alright. They were gone. And I was safe. In Ron's arms. COCK He was warm. I was basically sitting in his lap, with him sitting on the ground, and like almost always he was wearing nylon athletic shorts and a tank top. Two or three of his chest hairs were tickling the underside of my chin. I'd never been this close to him, physically, and I realized he had an odor. His musk. It made me think of strength, and power. It made me realize that like all animal species I had the sense of smell, and for the first time in my life I understood that smells could be bad or good. Ron's was good. His musk was exciting me. That and the combination of the slight smell of marijuana, and the slight smell of beer. He'd probably been playing pool in the basement with my brother and other friends. A few more minutes of him holding me, and protecting me, brought me almost back to normalcy. Except I knew I wasn't fully normal anymore. I'd brushed up against violence, aimed at me, and it scared me more than I'd ever thought possible. It had shocked me, to my core. YOU WANT TO SUCK COCK I'd been frightened, and petrified. I'd visited a place I never wanted to see again. Ever. Who wouldn't be forever affected and changed by that? Then Ron gently turned his head slightly, and softly kissed my forehead. I'm sure it was meant to continue his soothing reassurance, of someone he had known for years and was almost kin with. It had to have been given as a gesture of fondness, and comfort. He was just showing himself to be a decent human being, right? But for me, it changed my normal again. COCK His lips seemed to burn me. I was beside myself with the warmest feelings, all of which were getting warmer. My eyes closed, softly, and I sighed, out loud. It was like manna from heaven. It calmed me, his kiss. The paralysing fear began evaporating, replaced by excitement. The same kind of excitement I felt in Mike's room, a few years ago, looking at a grainy black and white photo of two naked men kissing. It was so much better than anything I'd ever felt before. I had an erection. Jesus, sweet Jesus, I had the biggest hard-on I'd ever had. My entire five inches was enflamed, rigid, throbbing, and pulsing. I could feel wetness on the end, in my underwear. Pre-cum, the Sex Ed teacher had called it. I could feel it, seeping into the cotton of my briefs, more than I'd ever made before. My crying stopped. My shaking stopped. I was still trembling, but these were different kinds of trembles. Now, I was quivering with something new, something other-worldly, something fantastical and magical. I asked myself, 'is this what love is?' TAKE COCK INTO YOUR MOUTH His kiss on my forehead ended, and I raised my head to look him in the eyes. They were full of life, and love, and concern. They were playful, and wicked, and caring, and slightly quizzical too. With his arms around me, and sitting on his lap, I felt as though I was somehow home. Somehow, I was where I should be. Protected, warm, comforted, safe. And loved. COCK Instinct took over for me. My brain was no longer able to function. I did what my inner voices told me to do. I kissed Ron. On the lips. I closed my eyes, and kissed him. Placing my lips on his, my nose to his left cheek, his to mine, I kissed him. Not a peck, not a brush, not a glancing blow. I kissed him, fully. I was as committed to that kiss as to any act I'd ever made in my existence. His lips were bigger than mine, slightly, and warm, and dry. For the first few nanoseconds, his lips didn't move, and I could feel him holding his breath, perhaps shocked at my actions. Maybe I was way out of line, I thought, for as long as it takes a heart to beat. I was just about to end my kiss, when his grip on me became stronger, and his lips began to move against mine. I felt and heard him breathe out, like a grunt, and then he began to kiss me back. BOOM! The old saying is 'like being hit by lightning', and I knew what that felt like, right there and then. As if the skies brightened, the clouds parted, the lights of angels descended on me, and the hand of the almighty herself reached out to touch the back of my head, pushing me forward, I leaned into my very first kiss. With a man. I'd kissed a few girls, by that point. Karen, my dance partner, a few times, although we'd both decided that dancing together and being a couple was fraught with danger, so we'd stopped. I kissed some ugly chick named Cindy at a house party, a few months ago. Back in my first year of Scouts I'd kissed a couple of girls at summer camp. Spin the bottle. They were all great. Fantastic. Sexy as hell. But they weren't real kisses. That's what I discovered in the moment. Kissing Ron was about a trillion billion ker-snillion times better. Especially after the next few seconds, when he became totally into it, and pierced my mouth open with his tongue. HOT HARD COCK, FILLED WITH CUM FOR YOU All my kisses with girls were meaningless. Like someone who'd only ever had water to drink, their whole life, and then one day got to taste some soda pop. The all-consuming sweetness of his kiss touched me inside. Every impression or idea I'd ever had about happiness and joy were dwarfed by the sheer and staggering complexity of my soul, being held and kissed by this man. This man. As we began to kiss even more passionately, our heads rocking back and forth, our tongues playing the most intimate and delightful of dances, his saliva mixing with mine, our lips smacking and smacking again as we moved, an even newer and more mind-blowing moment happened. Ron's cock sprang up in his shorts, and I could feel it against my right bum cheek. OH MY GOD! He was huge! He was harder than steel! I could feel his gigantic erection! His penis, his cock, pulsing with blood, raging with excitement. For me. COCK!!! COCK!!! YOU LIVE FOR COCK!!! I pulled my head away from his, because I needed to catch my breath, and because I needed to say something. "Thank you, Ron." He looked at me. "For what?" "For saving me." The biggest smile came over his face. "Well," he said, "if I'd known you'd thank me with a kiss like that, I'd have saved your cute little ass a long time ago!" I giggled. He giggled. I realized he was more than just a little high. His eyes looked redder than normal, and he couldn't stop giggling. We stayed like that for a few moments more. I rested my head back on his chest, near his neck, and he held me, safe and secure, in his arms. Finally, he began to stand up, still holding me, and then once he was steady he lowered me to my feet, my legs now unwrapped from around him. "C'mon," he said, "I'll walk you home." He grabbed my bike, laying on the ground and probably in need of some minor repairs, and walked it with one hand while he held my hand. I felt like he was my boyfriend, or my husband, and it washed over me, radiating in elation. I loved it! HARD, HOT COCK That's all that happened with Ron. Once home, he went back to the basement and hung out with my brother and friends, and I went to my room. I told my parents I was going to bed, which insinuated sleeping. But I couldn't sleep. My little cock would not go down. Even after I masturbated, which stunned me. I came all over my own tummy, and for the first time in my entire life ever, I scooped the cum up with my fingers and licked them clean. I wanted it. Previously, I'd wondered about the taste, but propriety had always stopped me. Not this time. I licked up the biggest ball of hot white globular cum, covering the entire end of my index finger, and without hesitation I brought it to my lips, making sure to smear them like lip gloss with the nectar as I pushed my finger inside my mouth, delivering the glob to my tongue, to my taste buds. Words can never describe how it made me feel. I just can't imagine a scenario where I might be educated enough to convey just what that was like for me. Tangy, heady, vibrant, thrilling, a shock to the system, the catalyst for another huge paradigm shift in my soul. But the word 'wondrous' comes close. I was in awe. I was in rapture. I found myself floating on an emotional sea of happiness, of elation. Of joy. Suddenly, there was nothing else in my world that mattered. COCK! CUM! I lost my virginity in my junior year of high-school to Barb Ohler, who I'd known since elementary school. She was a bigger girl, with big tits, and a big laugh. She ended up directing the action, leading me into everything. She instigated the making out, she took my hands and placed them on her breasts, she locked the door and stripped us both down, she put my hand between her legs, and told me to finger her. She guided my mouth to her nipples, both big and thick and throbbing and pointy. She moved me to her pussy, and showed me how she liked to be licked. She was tangy and slick, and I loved it! And based on her reactions, she loved it too. She gushed all over my face, twice. The first time was three distinct pulses of her musk, and the second was two smaller ones. When it came to the 'big' act, however, I was not so successful. Never having done it, I couldn't figure out the angle a penis has to be on to enter a vagina. I kept trying to ram it in her, and she would wince in pain, and I would apologize and feel stupid and try harder and hurt her more and then feel even stupider. Finally, after help from her, I managed to slide into her pussy. If memory serves, I lasted five, maybe six strokes, before I started spurting my cum inside her, which she'd warned me not to do, losing my erection almost immediately, and then falling off of her, ashamed of my own complete failure at sex. I could make her cum with my mouth. But I couldn't make her do anything with my little penis. The next day, I staggered with the realization that I was no longer a virgin. I'd had sex. I was a man. But strangely enough, I didn't think of other and more women, to have sex with. All I could think about were all the different cocks I'd seen on the web, in my private searching late at night, and how so many of them would have been able to satisfy Barb. I couldn't, but they could. I thought a lot about Ron's cock. He could satisfy her, I knew. Many times over, probably. Karen and I kept dancing, entering competitions. We travelled a few times, to regional events. We were always pretty good, and came in second or third at a few events, but we were never the best dancers. After graduation from high school, we agreed to keep dancing together. I loved the physical aspect of it, and it kept us both in great shape. She always had the most gorgeous rounded ass, and I had one too! HARD COCK After years of dancing in the youth category, when we turned twenty we were thrust into the adult division, and at our first competition we were introduced to some serious dancers. Men and women, all in amazing shape, with world-class endurance and style and show biz costumes. We had some significant catching up to do. We performed well, all things considered. There was no doubt who would win, though. Eduardo and Camilla. They were red-hot Latin lovers, in every event. They were fantastic. EVERY SECOND OF EVERY DAY, ALL YOU CAN THINK OF IS KISSING COCK, SUCKING COCK, AND SWALLOWING CUM!!!! Camilla was sultry, her skin deliciously bronze, her eyes huge and alluring, her hair long and dark and thick, her body curvy and feminine and stacked and she had the most amazingly gorgeous and muscular ass and thighs. She looked, and dressed on stage, like the most erotic vixen ever known. Real-life, however, was a different story. Eduardo was a tall, chiselled man, with flowing dark hair and a hairless chest that looked like it was carved out of the most tanned wood by the great Michelangelo himself. God-like. He had big full pouty lips, and smouldering hot eyes that focussed on her like an eagle on prey. He had muscles on top of muscles, and legs that looked like he could kick down the strongest door in the world if he had to. And in the first costume I saw him in, it was evident that he was a very well-blessed man. I mean, I had to look. I did all the time. HOT HARD COCK Backstage, as I mentioned, was an entirely different world. What became quickly apparent to everyone was that Eduardo and Camilla couldn't stand each other, could barely tolerate each other, but realized that they could dance together better than anyone else so they agreed to pretend. On stage, you would swear they were passionately in love. Off stage, hate was supreme. A year later, we were at a regional competition. Karen and I had done two of our three events, and I was getting changed for our waltz. I'd long ago learned to change as quickly as possible, for fear of being seen by real men to have the small penis that I have, but also to cut down on any time I might have for looking at other men, dressing in the same area. Looking at their cocks. I couldn't help it. Every day, more and more as I got older, I looked at cocks. Every man I saw got a glance down there, and whereas with most men there wasn't anything to see, oftentimes owing to the looseness of clothes, sometimes I would see the most amazing lumps, men who were super well-endowed. HARD HOT COCK, THROBBING FOR A WET MOUTH This particular costume, however, could not be gotten into quickly. About a month before the competition, Mrs. Cumberland told us she wanted to do something completely "out there". She knew two of the judges, both of whom she claimed were "gayer than three dollar bills", and she was sure both of them would love her idea. She wanted Karen and I to switch roles, for the waltz. Karen would wear a tuxedo, sleek and dark, and a fake moustache. I would wear a see through sheer white blouse, fully-sleeved, with a white bustier on underneath, and a dark black high-waisted A-line skirt, which gave me the illusion of having hips, overtop of a matching stockings/garter belt/panties ensemble from Victoria's Secret, and heels. I would wear a wig, a deep shiny lustrous auburn, and makeup. The idea was both intriguing and frightening to me, when she brought it up. Artistically, I liked her 'switcheroo' idea, on the face of it. But I wondered if I would enjoy wearing all those clothes. Would I be able to move properly? Would I look like a complete fool? She said the only way to know was to try. So she hired a make-up artist friend of hers, to buy the clothes, and teach me how to wear them, and to teach me how to do makeup properly. In the meantime, I also had to learn how to dance in high heels. The routine was a slow waltz, but there were specific movements that I would have to make that I worried about doing in shoes I'd never worn, my entire life. Mrs. Cumberland reasoned that I should start practicing, right away. HARD HOT COCK, DRIPPING WITH SWEET PRE-CUM It was a hard month. I thought about calling it off, a few times, but I decided to try to persevere, and at the end of the month, the day before the competition, we had our final dress rehearsal. And we did it. I did it. Wearing the lingerie, with my body now completely shaved, made me swoon. The blouse and skirt and wig and makeup made that me want to cum inside the panties. But I would fight it off, not for the least reason because I didn't want to cum in the panties, partly because they were soft and lacy and caressed my little cock and balls unlike anything else in this world, but also because I couldn't bear the thought of staining them, or ruining them. When Karen saw me at our first and only dress rehearsal just before we did our dance, she smiled. She looked great, herself. Risers in her shoes made her three inches taller, and my heels were only two inches, so we ended up being the same height. Her hair and moustache looked masculine, and I knew she'd rock the performance. I was nervous, but I'd been doing it long enough to tamp down the butterflies and just perform. The choreography was fluid, and towards the end of our dance we had a sequence involving three specific 'spin and dip' moves, and Mrs. Cumberland had coached us to change the second move so Karen dipped me. Dressed as I was, it worked! The next day, at the competition, I was backstage, finishing my makeup. Karen and I had only the waltz left. Our cha-cha had been good, really good, better than our normal, and our tango was error-free, and we were minutes away from our big number. I had just slipped some shiny gaudy bangles on both of my wrists when Eduardo came backstage, fresh off his second performance. The unpredictable hustle and bustle of the event and all the people meant, strangely, that at that exact moment we were more or less by ourselves. He walked in, and looked at me, and then appeared stunned, and started to form words, as if he was going to say 'excuse me, Miss, but you shouldn't be back here in the Men's section' or words to that effect, when it dawned on him who I was, and then he took a very long minute to scan me up and down, from top to toes, and then he looked me in the eyes. Smokey-grey eyes, mind you, with enormous false eyelashes. HARD ERECT COCK, THROBBING FOR YOUR MOUTH AND PUSSY Then he smiled, a little. Which, truth be told, was the first time he'd probably even acknowledged me. Then his look softened, and his smile increased, and his eyes became warm, and flickering with something wonderful. "Wow," he said, his voice deep and thundery, coming out of his barrel chest, in what I thought was a genuine Latino accent, "you are...so sexy." I blushed. "Thank you," I said. "No," he half-whispered, "thank you, Senorita." And then he bowed, a graceful movement from a graceful man, his body so much bigger and broader than mine. Then he fixed me in his gaze again. "Would you do me the honor of the next dance?" he asked, playfully. "Eduardo," I said, and before I could continue he put his hand up and stopped me. Then his voice changed. It was still super deep and luxurious, but there was no trace of an accent of any kind. "It's Larry, actually." I looked surprised. "Not very marquee, is it? Larry the Latin Lover? So I changed it." I nodded. "We can keep that between us?" he asked, playfully again. "Of course," I replied, a little breathy, smiling at him, feeling like the shared intimacy had suddenly changed our relationship. Or given us one, at least. He stepped towards me. He had super long legs, so one step put him almost in front of me, and I had to look up to see him. "You're the woman and your partner is the man, I take it?" he asked. I nodded. "Clever." I smiled and shrugged. Time would tell. "You do look really sexy," he whispered. BEAUTIFUL PROUD PULSING COCK We stared at each other, him down at me and me up at him. The fact that I was moments away from stepping on stage and competing was irrelevant. The fact that I was a man dressed like a feminine, sexy, slutty woman, in full makeup and wig and heels, seemed completely normal, as if this happened all the time. The only thing that mattered to me, at that minute in time, was that Eduardo was so very close to me, close enough to touch, and his eyes were burning into mine, and his lips were quivering, and his body was shiny with perspiration and his massive chest heaving up and down from his recent exertions, and despite my eyes never leaving his, years of training and my growing compulsion and obsession with men and their cocks guided me, and in my peripheral vision I could see a significant lump forming in this trousers. His skin-tight shiny black satin trousers. He was sexually excited by me. TAKE HIS COCK INTO YOUR MOUTH, TASTE IT...LOVE IT! We just stared at each other. I could feel my breaths coming in gasps and waves. I had to fight myself from reaching out to touch him, from running my hand with the fake fire-engine red fingernails over the smooth sculpted shape of his pecs. His chest. Where I could instantly imagine spending hours just kissing and nuzzling, his arms wrapped around me, and losing myself for a few days or weeks or months, or forever. From outside the dressing area, I heard Mrs. Cumberland yell my name, and let me know that I was due on stage in three minutes. I shouted back that I would be ready. "Are you and your dance partner an item?" he asked, curiosity in his whispered voice. I shook my head no. "That's smart," he continued, "you don't want to complicate the dance partnership with romance." "No," I answered, "we decided not to do anything years ago." He nodded. "Does she have a boyfriend?" I nodded. "Yes. I'm not sure how serious though." Then he paused. "And you? Do you have a girlfriend?" His voice seemed breathy. There was some hesitation in his question. I got the sense that he was seriously worried about what my answer would be. "No," I whispered back at him, "I don't have a girlfriend." He nodded, and smiled. I sensed he was relieved, somehow. "A boyfriend?" I blushed again, right down to my toes, in my fire-engine red pumps. The idea! But that incredulous feeling disappeared with my next heartbeat, replaced with a new feeling. A boyfriend. Dressed as I was, feeling how the lingerie excited me and enticed me, all my nerves a- twitter, I suddenly wanted to know what having a boyfriend would be like. I shook my head no. Eduardo, or Larry, just kept staring at me, and smiling at me. I could smell him, he was so close, and his musk elated me and made me think of the word 'man'. "Right now, you look like a girlfriend," he whispered. I laughed. Nervously. "I watched your tango," he said, which surprised me. Like I said earlier, I didn't think he even knew who I was. "Your partner is pretty good, but you're better." I said thank you. "You two might be in the competition for second." I nodded. Maybe he was right. Then I thought, whaddaya mean, second? It's like he was reading my mind. "Camilla and I always win." It took me a moment or two, but then I realized he was right. They did always win. So Karen and I were playing for second. Although, we'd done really well on both of our dances, and the audience seemed to like us a lot. Then he just stared down at me, and I noticed he was fixated on my mouth. On my lips. Which at the moment were coated in lipstick and lip-liner, and gloss, just like the makeup artist had taught me. My lips looked full, and vibrant, and very feminine, and very very kissable. And for the first time in my life, I thought about being kissed, like this, dressed in sexy lingerie and feminine clothes, and wig and heels and makeup. I thought about being kissed, by a man. By the man in front of me. And it was like he could read my mind. "Maybe you and I should dance together," he said, softly. "something slow and romantic. Dressed like we are, we'd look like the sexiest couple on earth." I nodded, because the idea filled me with joy. And I said the first words than came into my head, unfiltered and unapologetic. "That sounds like fun. You're a great dancer." Mrs. Cumberland yelled at me again, reminding me that I had only two minutes to be on stage. "I have to go," I said. He nodded. Then he turned his body, so I could move past him. As I took a step, in my heels, he reached out and put his hand on my shoulder. "I'm serious," he whispered, "stay dressed like that after your number, and after my third number you and I can dance together, okay?" Again, I said the first and only thing that came into my brain. "I'd love to." LET COCK FILL YOUR MOUTH LET COCK FILL YOUR BODY LET HIS COCK INSIDE YOU TAKE HIS COCK INTO YOU LET HIS COCK FUCK YOUR HOLES TAKE HIS COCK INTO YOUR PUSSY Then I realized that there probably wouldn't be time for such a dance. He'd either be going onstage or getting ready to go onstage when I came off. Either way, my heart fell. The adrenaline of performing kicked in, however, forcing me to concentrate on the task at hand. I was happy for the distraction. I clicked and clacked my way out to the wings, backstage, where Karen and Mrs. Cumberland were waiting for me. They both asked if I was ready, and I said yes. But the truth of the matter was, my mind was a million miles away. With Eduardo. Larry. I heard people in the audience gasp when Karen and I walked out to do our waltz. We were both well-costumed, and well-made-up, but it was obvious from our starting pose that I was the man and she was the woman, despite the illusion we'd created. And somehow, though lord knows how I did it, I managed to forget my backstage infatuation, and Karen and I danced the lights out. Seriously. We had never moved better together, never anticipated each other better, never felt the music and let it show in our dance, and our faces. When it came time to do the multiple dips, near the end of our performance, I was flying high on emotion. We were dancing so well, and combined with my new-found euphoria with Eduardo, I had never felt better in my entire life. The first dip worked beautifully, the second, where Karen dipped me, made people in the audience cheer. And the angle that my head was at, bent like I was, gave me an upside-down view of backstage left, and the first and only thing my eyes focussed on was Eduardo, watching us. Watching me. In one brief second I watched his right hand slide across his own groin and subtly grab his hardening penis. COCK FOR ME!!! I licked my lips. The third dip, our final move, was fiery and full of drama, generated all by me, as I stared at Karen like I was going to devour her. We were greeted with serious applause, some of the people standing on their feet. I risked a look at the judges table, and three of the five of them were standing as well. Karen squeezed my hand, as we accepted our applause. I barely heard her voice over the crowd ask me, "that was amazing, what's got into you?" HIS HARD HOT MASCULINE COCK AND BODY ACHES FOR YOU We stayed out for three full bows; such was the warmth of the audience towards us. Usually it was just Eduardo and Camilla that received three bows. As we hurried offstage, I looked for him, but he was nowhere to be found. Mrs. Cumberland reminded me I had only a little time to change back, to boy mode, before the final walk on stage with all the other competitors. COCK I told her that I would just stay in character, as I was. It would be easier. Her eyebrows shot up, and she looked at me seriously, like a grandmother would, and asked, "are you sure?" I nodded enthusiastically. Karen decided to stay in character too. We watched the last three couples, with Eduardo and Camilla going last. They were spectacular, as usual. The passion and fierceness on his face was greater than in all the other performances I'd seen of them. She was as sultry as ever, perhaps more so because of his enhanced acting. Either way, they rocked their performance. Moments later, everyone was on stage. The audience hooped and hollered and cheered and clapped for all the performers, and we all bowed and waved and high-fived other dancers and did the cursory hugs we always did. Camilla exuded sex when she hugged me, but I instantly got a cold chill from her. Somehow, from deep inside, I got the vibe that she was a totally unattractive human, regardless of her looks. She was beautiful beyond all imagination on the outside. On the inside, she was ugly. Eduardo's hug was the opposite. As we did our best to look standard and politically-correct, his groin moved a little more than it should have, as did mine, and we bumped. Just for a second. His groin, and more specifically his cock, hit me near my belly-button, such was our height difference. COCK HIS COCK, TOUCHING YOU THE COCK YOU WANT TO KISS THE COCK YOU WANT TO TASTE THE COCK YOU WANT TO ADORE, AND BATHE IN YOUR MOUTH THE COCK YOU WANT TO SWALLOW THE COCK YOU WANT INSIDE YOUR PUSSY THE COCK YOU WANT TO MAKE LOVE TO YOU THE COCK YOU WANT TO FUCK YOU I gasped out loud when I felt it. He squeezed me, albeit chastely, a little more than was normal, and I heard his deep baritone voice whisper in my ear. "I want to dance with you, more than anything." We'd reached the customary amount of time, so we separated, and others moved in. All the dancers then stood and we waited for the results, the judge's decisions. Karen and I held hands, like all the couples did. I risked a glance at Eduardo and Camilla, and they were holding hands too, playing their parts, seeming to be in love and happier than the world could understand. She was looking at him like he was the only man in the world. She's a good actress, I thought. There were cash prizes for the top five couples, growing bigger for each team closer to the top. The prize for the top team was one thousand dollars, second got seven hundred and fifty dollars, third got five hundred, and so on. Fifth place went to a couple I didn't know, fourth went to an older couple we'd danced against numerous times and they usually beat us, third place was awarded to a brother and sister team who were gymnasts at some point in their lives and usually did very athletic routines. Applause was given and hands were shaken and prize money was given out, in envelopes. The head judge announced the winners of second place were... Eduardo and Camilla. The audience gasped, and then roared. For the first time ever, I saw the loving look on her face disappear, from the look that always seemed to say that Eduardo was the very central core of her life and that she longed to make love to him every second of her existence, to incredulity, and shock. Anger flashed on her face. Spite flashed on her face. Indignation flashed on her face. You could see it in her eyes. She'd come in second? Eduardo was beaming. I'd never seen a bigger smile on his face. He accepted the judge's handshakes and money as if he'd never ever ever been happier or more content. Camilla had to act as if she was happy too, but now I realized she wasn't nearly as good an actress as I'd thought. She was pissed. Then the judges announced the winners. Karen and Seth. YOUR ASS WAS MEANT FOR COCK YOUR ASS IS TWITCHING, WANTING TO FILLED WITH COCK YOUR LITTLE PENIS IS HARDER THAN IT'S EVER BEEN, THINKING ABOUT COCK EDUARDO'S COCK YOU WANT HIS COCK, IN YOUR MOUTH, AND IN YOUR PUSSY YOU WANT TO SCREAM IT OUT, AS LOUD AS YOU CAN I WANT EDUARDO TO FUCK ME WITH HIS COCK!!!!!!!!!!!! All the other dancers were so happy for us. We got hugged again, lots, and I felt a few congratulatory kisses on my cheeks too, so very show- bizzy and European. The crowd was such that there was body contact with others. It was the same every competition. I was being hugged by an older lady, her boobs almost spilling out of the top of her low-cut evening gown, when I felt something behind me. COCK Hands gently touched my hips, turning them ever so slowly and slightly. And then I felt heat up against my back, and then I felt the greatest thing of all. Eduardo's cock, discretely and carefully placed directly between my ass cheeks, our heights the perfect position for it, as he pretended to be shuffling from one group of people to the next. HIS COCK TAKE HIS COCK IN YOUR HAND GUIDE HIS COCK INTO YOUR MOUTH GET HIS COCK WET GUIDE HIS COCK INTO YOUR PUSSY GUIDE HIS COCK INTO YOUR BODY TAKE HIS COCK TAKE HIS LOVE Backstage, everyone was winding down, changing back into their regular clothes. Chatter was everywhere. I was feeling happy and sad. Elated and in despair. Happy and elated that I'd met Eduardo, dressed as a woman. Sad and in despair that it wouldn't happen again. I mean, who was I kidding? Things like what I was imagining only happened in movies and fiction. He'd no doubt be with her somewhere, and their handlers or family or whoever they travelled with. They could have left for home already, wherever that was. We were staying at the Holiday Inn, near the airport. Karen and Mrs. Cumberland shared a room, and I had my own. I was buoyed by the realization that I could play dress up in my room. Tell the girls I was tired, and that I'd just order room service and crash for the evening, before our three-hour drive back home the next morning. A wicked thought occurred to me, and I turned to seek out Larry. He'd gone. They'd gone. My heart fell to the ground. People congratulated us as we left the convention center. The three of us walked out to the front concourse, to catch a taxi. There was a line of people waiting, and we took our spots in the queue. My mind was in a far-away place, ruing my lost opportunity for whatever might have happened with Eduardo, at the same time revelling in the realization that wearing women's clothes, most especially sexy lingerie, turned me on more than anything else on the planet. It had been a good day in many ways, and a great day in a couple of ways. And then, in my sadness, light shone down on me again. At the front of the line of people waiting for a taxi was Eduardo and Camilla and the two people obviously with them. They were next for a ride, to wherever I didn't know. Eduardo looked around, all over, and finally he saw me. He just looked at me for a moment, and then said something to Camilla, and started walking towards us. When he got to us, he congratulated us again, on our big win. He sounded sincere as all get out, and he bent down to chastely hug Karen again. She let him go quickly and he turned to me, to give me a bro hug. His head came down to my ear level instantly, and his breath was sweet and cool on the side of my head. "Are you leaving town?" I whispered at him. "We're at the Holiday Inn, near the airport. We leave tomorrow morning." "I want to dance with you," he said, with longing in his voice. I had but one moment to say something, anything, before propriety made us break our bro hug. "I'm in room two eighteen." Then his group called to him that their ride was available, and he walked away. I stared at his long legs and strong, muscular ass the whole way. The way is swayed from side to side as he strode, his behind firm and muscular and round and I found myself wishing I could see it. Touch it. Taste it. Our turn at a cab came soon enough. I told the ladies I was tired and overwhelmed by the events of the day, and would order room service and turn in and see them bright and early in the morning for our return drive home. FEEL HIS COCK FEEL HIS PASSION FREE YOUR PASSION FEEL HIS COCK INSIDE YOU I ordered some food, nibblies, from the appetizer menu, in case he was hungry when he showed up. I wasn't hungry. Well, not for food. I was too nervous for that. I bathed, and shaved everywhere, and cleaned myself everywhere, and spent a delicious hour of my time powdering and brushing and applying and gluing, and once I looked as femininely fabulous as I could, I slipped back into my dance costume. Sliding the stockings up my shaven legs was tantamount to climbing the stairs to heaven, without stepping in. When I gracefully and carefully slid my wig on, the last step in my preparations, I trembled. I'd never felt so sexy. I'd never felt so free. I'd never felt so on fire with energy, with passion, and with romance. I'd never felt such nervous titillation, never dreamed of being as excited as I was. For over an hour I waited. My mind cascaded with imagery and ideas on what he'd be like, as a dancer. And as a lover. Or am I misreading the whole thing? Finally, when I'd begun to let doubt creep into my mind that he wouldn't actually show, there was a gentle knock on the door. I approached the spy hole quietly, and saw him outside, looking around the parking lot, nervously. When I opened the door, I stepped back three paces, and allowed him to enter of his own volition. He closed the door behind him, staring at me, not saying a word. His face had an intense look, as if every ounce of his concentration was on me. It didn't look like he was acting the part of the soon-to-be-lover. Nobody is that good an actor. He turned and put the chain on the door. Turning back to me, he just stared, as he took his jacket off, revealing a silk shirt, darker than night, the cuffs buttoned, the collar open, tucked into his jeans, which were acid washed, and which looked painted onto his stallion-like legs. Just between his legs there was a noticeable bulge. "I owe you a dance, milady," he whispered, his tone apologetic, as if he'd forgotten some life-or-death detail. I nodded. "I've been waiting." He smiled. "Do you have some music you could put on?" I reached for my IPhone. I'd already selected the song, and I'd already set the volume to one that would be heard by us but not by prying neighbours. When he realized the first notes of "Some Enchanted Evening", from the musical play "South Pacific", his eyes closed, briefly. When they opened again, he whispered one word. "Perfect." Then we came together. His left arm went out, and I put my right hand in his palm, as his right arm came around my back, low down, just above my ass, and my left hand came to rest on his shoulder. Our eyes were fixed on each other. We waited two beats, and then we began. Completely unrehearsed, and yet the most seductive and romantic dance of my life. Soft, sweeping, calming, and erotic, he moved me at will in the small area we had to work with. A simple box-step, each of us moving with the other effortlessly, fluidly. As if we both were destined to do this dance, by the fates. And despite my years of training, or maybe because of them, I somehow managed to easily assume the woman's steps, instead of the man's. I knew them innately, I suppose, from thousands of hours of practice, with Karen. Slowly, as we danced, we pulled gently at each other, and wound up front to front, body to body, touching and rubbing and as close as two people can be without 'going over the line' as my mom would have said. His eyes were like cauldrons of bubbling hot lava, waiting to erupt, and pour straight at me. They were so fiery hot and alluring I couldn't look away, even if I'd wanted to. I felt his cock again, next to me, pressing into my body, as we clinched even more. Without thinking about it, I took my right hand from his left and brought it over his other shoulder, and he naturally moved his free hand to my other hip. And then around to my back. And then down, directly on to my buttock. Where he made sure there was no confusion on anyone's part, and squeezed long and hard. Which is exactly what I was feeling just below my belly button. COCK Long and hard. Our dance had become languorously-slow shuffling, more or less. Each movement brought us more and more into contact. My arms moved and my fingers ran up into his long hair, teasing the back of his scalp with my fingernails. His hands both moved to my ass. Not only was he caressing and squeezing and kneading my globes, he was also pulling me into him further, pressing his body into me again and again, trying to get closer to me, trying to be more in connection with me. Trying to press his cock into me more. Those amazing eyes started sending me signals. They were almost talking to me. I could see his every thought through his eyes. He seemed to be saying "I'm going to kiss you" and "you better believe I'm going to kiss you" and I was responding non-verbally with "I want you to kiss me" and, "like, get on with it already! and kiss me!" For an agonizing time, we stared and stared. Then finally, I knew it was coming. His head began to move, slowly, towards mine. Then he stopped. "My name is Eduardo," he whispered, in his Latin-lover voice, "and you, my beautiful lady, are...?" He knew my name. Seth. A second later I knew what he was asking. "I've always liked Sarah, the name Sarah," I whispered back. His eyelids fluttered at me, a satisfying flicker of a smile came to the edges of his mouth. "Sarah," was all he said. His lips puckered, a slight flicker. His tongue came out and wetted his lips. His nose got closer to me, and we both began to tilt our heads, just slightly, but just enough to make sure no embarrassing bumps happened along the way. His nostrils flared a little, and I heard him clear his throat, as if he was preparing to do something really important. Then our eyes both closed at the same time, and then his lips met mine. Have you ever had the wind knocked out of you? You know, where you can hardly breathe, you can only do little sips of air, because your lungs have been shocked and don't want to operate properly? That's how I felt. His lips overpowered me. They consumed me. They celebrated me and enriched me and enflamed me and provoked me and they justified me. I'd never felt more alert, more alive, more sexy, and more wanted by another human being. We kissed for minutes on end. His tongue was probing and adoring and playful and aloof and intense and laid back, and I wanted it to never end. Any pretense of dancing was gone. We stood together in the room, at the foot of the bed, his arms swallowing me, wrapping me up in his love, protecting me from all the pain and hate in the world with his massive torso and undeniable physical strength. His cock kept getting thicker, and thicker, as he pressed me into it. I could feel it, burning me with its heat and its throbbing. COCK, FOR YOU AND YOU ALONE I never wanted anything more. Without breaking our tongue-smacking kiss, he picked me up, with his hands on my ass cheeks, and turned me, so the bed was directly behind me. My feet were no longer touching the ground. A quick two or three shuffles, and I could feel the mattress of the bed on the back of my knees. The bed Eduardo was going to make love to me on. His kisses never stopped. He was ravenous. Open-mouthed, or gentle soft dabs, his lips never left mine alone for a second. His breath was sweet, in my mouth, on my tongue. His tongue was like an animal, at times, searching out the deepest darkest recesses to taste and tease, and when he extended it all the way into the opening of my throat, I found myself automatically sucking on it, trying to inhale it, trying to feel it in my soul. His moans were deep and real and made my skin tingle. My hands were wrapped around the back of his head, pulling him to me, wanting more of his kisses, more of his lips, more of his loving. More. The longer we kissed, the more his cock grew. In length and thickness. Each new expansion would amaze me, in the one small conscious part of my brain that was still working. Can he keep getting bigger? The answer was yes. Finally, after I don't know how long of kissing, he pulled his head back, and his eyes opened, and the biggest ball of energy came out of them, aimed at me, fairly knocking the air out of me. I'd never seen anyone that determined before. I'd never witnessed any human that hungry, that wanting, that needy. TAKE HIS COCK INSIDE YOU TASTE HIS COCK TASTE HIS CUM TAKE HIS COCK INTO YOUR BODY HOT, HARD, DRIPPING WET COCK TAKE IT IN YOUR PUSSYHOLE. BE HIS LOVER GIVE HIM YOUR SOUL We were both catching our breaths. He managed to stutter out how he was feeling, "you are the sexiest woman I've ever met." I found the strength to gasp what was on my mind. "Eduardo, I've never done this before, but please...please!...make love to me! PLEASE?!?!?!" Have you ever seen the face of someone who suddenly and unexpectedly got permission for something that they always assumed they'd never get, but wanted more than anything? That's the look that came on his face. "I've never done this before either," he whispered, in his Latin lover voice, "but I will have you, tonight, my sweet sexy Sarah." He kissed me again, and then stepped back from me, letting go of me. I watched him as he enticingly undid the buttons on his shirt, like a strip tease, slowly exposing his skin to me. When I saw his hairless nipples, sitting astride his massive chest, a pool of saliva formed in my mouth. My own nipples got erect, in a second or less, harder than I've ever noticed them before, and visions of him suckling me and nursing from me filled my mind. I began to unbutton my sheer blouse. He made a noise in his mouth, that sounded to me like he wanted to do it himself. So I stopped, and he smiled from ear to ear. "Allow me, senorita" he whispered. His big fingers slowly and ploddingly got the job done, and the sheer blouse fell to the floor. Standing now in my bustier and skirt, I helped him out and undid the button and zipper on my right side, holding the garment on me. Slowly, with his help, gravity took it away, and I heard it softly crumple to the floor. I stepped out of it, showing him my body, the bustier and garter belt and panties and stockings screaming out "woman", the little lump in my panties being the only interloper to my vision of femininity. His giant hand moved and covered the front of my panties. His fingers began playing with my cock, stroking it, rubbing it, caressing it, through the lace of my panties. BAM! He said he'd never done anything like this before, but boy! He took to it like a fish to water. I had to concentrate on not cumming, instantly. just like that, as well as not falling down, off my heels, to the floor, winding up in a pool of quivering flesh on the carpet. I wanted to cum, from his mere touch. I had to fight my body not to. He smiled again, like the cat that ate the canary, like he knew exactly what he was doing. "You want to cum, my angel?" he asked. I couldn't verbalize an answer. I was floating on a sea of feelings, racing through me at hyper-speed, and all I could manage was to suck in a huge gulp of air, and nod. His mouth raced and covered mine again, his lips hot and wet and familiar and wanted. His tongue went shooting into my mouth, claiming me as his own. His hand kept moving against me, twisting and turning on my cock, my little soldier trapped in lace, oozing sticky precum goodness. I felt and heard his breathy words inside my mouth. "Then cum for me, sweet gurl." I didn't want to. My brain said no. Don't be an early-cummer, it said. Don't spoil the moment. Don't risk offending him, or finding out that once orgasm was achieved all the feelings and sensations of attraction to him vanished into thin air. Don't cum. I spurted ropes of cum into my panties. It seeped out in every conceivable direction, and some got onto the skin of his hand, which never stopped touching my cock, my little balls, and the hairless skin of my thighs. My moans were intoxicating, and loud, and I worried about Karen and Mrs. Cumberland next door hearing me. Eduardo solved that problem by kissing me again, fixing his lips to mine, his tongue back inside my mouth, where it felt like it belonged. He'd wrapped his other arm around me again, which was a good thing, since the scope of my orgasm was so huge and vast that all the strength gave out in my legs, and I would have fallen down hard had he not been holding me up. As it was, I collapsed into him, into his body. And even flying high on the wings of my cumming, I could still touch earth a little. Enough to know his cock was even bigger than before. Pressed into my tummy, as it was. He was rock hard, and bigger than life, and throbbing for me. Of all the cums I'd ever had, this was the biggest. It took the wind out of my sails. It devastated me. I'd never felt such huge physical effects on my body before. I felt like I'd been in a car accident, and need a week or two of rest, in a hospital, surrounded by caring health practitioners, just to be able to stand again. To speak coherently again. Hell, just to be able to think again. His fingers never stopped playing with my cock and balls, touching me, caressing me, rubbing me. His hand was wet with my juices, with my love. All at once, he stopped his kissing of me, and gazed into my eyes, bringing his hand up so it was between our mouths. His tongue slipped out, and he tasted my semen on the tip of his tongue, sighing and closing his eyes as his taste buds went wild. Somehow, I just knew he'd never done that before. Then he smiled, huge and inviting, and his eyes opened again and flickered at me, daring me to match him. I drew two of his fingers into my lips, as far in as they would go, and I sucked my cum off of him, without hesitation, and without shame. Freely. Gladly. Willingly. Wantonly. Brazenly. Passionately. Then my tongue worked all over his hand, and I drank down every drop of cum I could find. His deep voice began giggling, rising from his wine barrel deep chest, amazed and amused at my reaction to cum. "I fucking love it!" I gasped, giggling at the saying of it, and his eyes glimmered and he smiled wickedly, sharing the moment with me. I let my head fall back, and took an enormous swallow, of every drop of liquid still in my mouth, my saliva, and the remnants of my own cum. I let the giant dollop slip and slide down my throat, warming me as gravity took it to my tummy. The moan I heard, rising from within me, was exhilarating. It didn't sound like me, or at least the old me. This sounded like a bell. Clear, and resonant, and wonderful, and I knew this was how I sounded when I was truly happy. I'd never reached this level of elation before, so my new voice took a little getting used to. And I realized it was a far more natural voice for me. And that I would be using it every time I was feminine again. It was the sound of being truly satisfied. Truly overwhelmed with passion and love. COCK I fell back on the bed, and brought my legs up together, chastely, trying to look like a centerfold. Propping my upper body up on my elbows, I looked up at Eduardo. I'm sure he could see I'd changed. I'm sure he could sense that he'd awakened something neither of us could have predicted. I spread my legs for him. I smiled, as mischievously as I could, as his eyes travelled down my body, ending at my ass, now front and center. "I am yours now, Eduardo," I whispered. His eyes came back up to mine. Then his hands made busy, and he unzipped and unbelted and unbuttoned and shrugged and bent and a few moments later he stood in front of me, naked. Six feet three inches tall, with bronzed skin everywhere except for the white patch around his groin, from his speedo, hairless, from his eyebrows to his toes, muscles everywhere, and the center of my universe standing about eight inches tall and proud in front, bobbing with his body's subtle movements and breaths, and dripping with shiny precum. Glistening wet. He put one knee up on the bed, and then bent forward, and looked very much like an animal, stalking his prey. The intensity of his stare was making my heart beat faster and faster. Then his other knee came up, and he walked himself up the mattress slowly, knees and hands, until he was almost touching me, his arms on either side of my head, his long hair hanging down around his neck. His head bent down, and his lips took mine again. I loved the way he kissed, thoughtfully, passionately, crazily, all of it. Then he balanced on his left hand and brought his right hand to my panties. While consuming me with his kisses, he pulled the strip of my panties out from between my cheeks, and wedged it to the right globe. Then his big fingers slithered and slipped over my tummy and balls and little cock, gathering up my cum. When he had enough to work with, his hand slipped down between my legs, and those fingers found my hole, and started poking and massaging and rubbing and caressing and exploring. I moaned out loud straight into his tongue. Taking another trip up to my panties, he found more of my love liquid, and dipped down again, pushing one finger into me, sliding the liquid around the bare inside of my opening. I tensed up, and he shushed me in my mouth, and stuck his tongue all the way inside again, knowing I'd start sucking on it with my throat, which took my concentration away from down south. A moment later, he slid almost all of his forefinger up and into me, in one motion. My whole body jilted and rocked, my entire breath went out of me in one spasm, up into his mouth, my head rocked slightly forward and I banged into his head, and his tongue didn't let up in my mouth. I just kept sucking, my eyes closed tight, trying to spread my legs farther, so it would spread my buttocks apart farther, which might spread my hole apart farther, which might make it easier for him to enter me. HOT HARD DRIPPING COCK I was making myself ready for him, opening myself as much as I could to his prodding, inviting him to fill me with more, more of his fingers, and then, undoubtedly, his cock. He slinked out of me, quickly felt my panties again, and then an instant later two of his fingers came into me, with vigor. With determination. Again I gasped up into his mouth, and arched my back, and spread everything even more. He ran both of his thick fingers in and out of me several times, each time pushing harder in and withdrawing slower and slower. It was driving me insane. Our kiss would not be broken. I wanted to literally crawl my entire being into his kiss, and stay there for eternity. But the fifth time his fingers came out of me to find more of my cum on my panties and skin, they didn't return to me. A few seconds of curiosity were replaced with the sudden awareness that he was spreading the love liquid on himself. LUBING HIS COCK Then I felt him creep his knees up closer to me, the front of his thighs touching the backs of mine, and I felt his lower torso squeeze in between my upper thighs, as his body began to press into mine, and then his tongue slipped out of my mouth, and his lips left mine, hovering less than an inch above me. "Sarah, my princess," he whispered, "tonight you become a woman." "Take me, Eduardo," I begged, "make me your woman!" I felt the tip of his cock touch the entrance to my body. Then I felt pressure, as he pushed. Then I felt a great tension in my ring, followed by abject pain, followed by more of him slipping inside me, followed by more pressure and more pain, and I started to cry out, when he slipped his mouth back on to mine. "It will only hurt for a short time, Sarah," he breathed into me with that gorgeous Latin lover accent, "it is the same for every woman." I felt tears welling up, and one burst out of my lids and rolled down my left cheek. It hurt! "Shhhh, my darling," he intoned, "breathe quickly, and deeply. The pain will soon vanish, and then we will make love." He kept at it, sliding a little more of himself into my pain-wracked behind after each pull back, his thick cock too much for me, the tears just cascading down my cheeks. Eduardo kept calming me, his words breathed directly into my open mouth, still filled with his hot squirming tongue. "Shhh," he whispered, "my Sarah, your pain is almost over, I promise you." I was sobbing now, the sides of my face wet with my tears. There was a voice in my head that was screaming, irate, yelling my anger, my ire, at something that I'd wanted so much suddenly turning into something I hated so much. I pushed his lips off of mine, half-babbling and half-screaming. "No...no...don't...Eduardo...stop...no...please....stop...no...don't.. .no...please stop...no...no...don't...." He shushed me again, and in one final push he shoved himself as far into me as he could go, totally rearranging my insides, generating feelings of hurt I'd never felt before, and the tears came pouring out of my eyes anew. "Don't....no...stop...please...no....stop....Eduardo...don't....stop..." He didn't move. I risked a look at him, gritting my teeth and trying not to wail like a little girl, and his eyes were flashing fire, lightning bolts blasting at me, crashing into me. His cock was so fucking thick, and so long, and the romantic feelings I'd anticipated at being made love to had vanished, and all I could think about was this man and his enormous cock and how it was buried as far as he could go inside me, splitting me in two, and probably causing damage I'd need to go to a hospital for. And how it hurt more than any pain I'd ever known in my entire existence. He smiled. "My love," he whispered, "any moment, believe me." "No," I gasped. He smiled again. And then, like a summer's morning, the early fog that had blanketed me, painful and hurtful, began to vanish. To dissipate. As if the world warmed up just that one more bit, that one more degree, and the conditions made it possible for the thick pea-soup of dawn to just vaporize. There one second, and gone the next. Hazy and grey before, sunny and dewy and warm now. Just like that, my body adjusted, my insides did whatever they had to do to deal with the intrusion, and all the hurt disappeared. My eyes snapped open and gazed at his, the amazement showing. My tears stopped. "You feel it now, my love?" he asked. I giggled up at him, and brought my face closer to his, nearing my lips to his, anxious and eager to taste his tongue again. "Make love to me, Eduardo." He kissed me, his tongue instantly lodged in the back of my mouth, and he began to pull that amazingly beautiful cock out of me. When he was just a smidge short of being all the way out, of leaving me empty, he gracefully and purposefully sunk himself back in to me in one slow and fan-fucking-tastic stroke. All the way. COCK, ROCK HARD AND THROBBING COCK, INSIDE YOUR BODY, INSIDE YOUR SOUL COCK, FUCKING YOU YOUR MAN, MAKING LOVE TO YOU YOU ARE A SPECIAL WOMAN, BORN TO LOVE COCK And that, dear readers, is when I became cockwashed. AND NOW, YOU ARE COCKWASHED TOO. The End.