Big Red ? Part Two free porn video

Big Red - Part Two By Katharine Sexkitten I spent about four hours watching porn on my laptop. I wanted to find more videos like the one with Sierra. I was so blown away by her, and the parts of her that weren't 'her' parts, that I had to find out if it was a one-off kind of thing, or whether there were other sexy feminine- looking creatures like her. It turns out the Net is full of sexy cross-dressing slutty girls. Or gurls, as I saw some of them spelled. One website after another showed me the full gamut of that kind of experience. From young to old, from thin to fat, from sissy age-playing little girls to full-out voluptuous mature gurls, I watched them all. Some of them were truly feminine. Some of them were just plain ugly, obviously guys in too much makeup. One or two had full beards. Weird. Some were by themselves. Some with other gurls. Some were with men. There were even a handful of videos that featured multiple gurls. One or two were orgy scenes. There was lots of vids of gurls sucking on cocks. Some were rubberized, man-made cocks. Most were real. Real cocks. Real throbbing erections. Lots of the gurls were taking mouthfuls of cum. Lots of them were taking it on their face. I instantly flashed back to what Red had said about my Sialorrhea, my excess salivating and swallowing. "Man, I know about a thousand guys who'd pay big money to spend a little time with you. Maybe tens of thousands of guys!" Watching those gurls sucking on cocks, real or not, and my mouth was half-full of my own spit, and I was swallowing over and over and over again. I wanted to be sucking on cocks too. Like them. I mean, they all looked they were REALLY enjoying themselves. Some of them were like Sierra. Some of them opened themselves up, to rubber toys. They obviously all adored it. Some of them opened themselves up to men. Real men. Muscular, hairy, men. Older grey-haired daddies, middle-aged soccer dads, young virile gym-rats. So many of them, all of them shining with lust and what looked like the ultimate pleasure, sliding themselves into the most taboo of pussies. So many other Sierras. Spreading their legs, and their asses. To hard throbbing cocks. Willingly. Wantonly. Passionately. I masturbated the whole time, never allowing myself to orgasm, edging myself from one heart-pounding step away from erupting to another. When I finally did succumb to cumming, when it was almost midnight and I was having a hard time not collapsing from sheer exhaustion, my whole groin pulsed and hammered and I shot out three great ropes of cum, all over my belly and chest, the second shot reaching my neck. The weirdest thing, though. As I watched that particular blast approaching my face, something inside of me took over, and I involuntarily lowered my head, quickly, like a rocket, my mouth wide open, hoping to catch some of it, to taste it fresh and direct from the source. It didn't work. Despite the gut-wrenching ordeal, so glorious and wonderful, more than any other I'd ever had, I realized for a few seconds that I was a little sad too. I'd really wanted to taste it cum that way. I fell asleep after scooping up my load off my body and savoring every drop. It was hypnotic. I'd never tasted it before, never realized how unique it is, how completely unlike anything else the taste and texture of cum was. I'd heard people say "it's an acquired taste" about all sorts of foods and beverages over the years. Now, I knew exactly what they meant. I'm sure lots of people wouldn't want to acquire that taste. Me, I lost consciousness to the Sandman with the after-glow of a mouthful of cum. I entered dreamland thinking it was the most attractive taste I'd ever had. Saturday morning, I got up early. I had to stop myself from going back online, and watching more videos of lady-like men having fun. Every video, no matter the setting or the performers, I kept imagining that it was me. Me, dressing in women's clothes. Me, in make-up, and wigs. Me, licking and kissing and sucking on dildos. Me, spreading my legs and sliding those dildos into my pussy. Me, being held and kissed by lovers. Me, looking up into their eyes as I took their manhood into my mouth. Me, gulping down their cum, smacking my lips and grinning like Cheshire cats afterwards. Me, on my hands and knees, being railed from behind. Me, on my back, my legs wrapped around a big man, his cock pummelling in and out my hole, his mouth on mine, my arms pulling him into me, trying to get us closer, trying to get more of him inside me. As soon as it opened, I went to my local drugstore. There was an older lady behind the counter, Filipino, wearing the white coat. I asked her, nervous as hell, if there was something I could buy to 'wash my insides'. "You want an enema kit?" she asked, her voice loud and almost menacing. "If that will wash my insides," I replied, quietly. She pointed to an aisle and said, "down there, on the left." I got it home, after turning red at the counter paying for it, the teenaged girl behind the counter looking at me like I was a freak. I must have swallowed about a gallon of my own saliva just standing there paying for it. She gave me my change, looked me in the eye, smirked, and said, "have a nice day." I planned to. It took three times, but I finally got the water to run out of me clean. Then I finished in the shower, using one of my razors to shave everywhere. I was pretty smooth-bodied, and had been for years, because of the swimming, so it didn't take long. It was a process I was very familiar with. Except, this time, I paid extra special close attention to my special areas. More than I usually would. I wanted to be sleek. I still wasn't one hundred percent sure that Red was interested in me being gurly for him, but it was close. Yet, there was one small part of my brain, the doubting part, that kept telling me I could be reading things the wrong way. I stuffed a couple of different speedos into my knapsack, along with some board shorts for after, in case I did end up swimming in Red's pool. And a t-shirt. Then I threw on my tightest jeans, and a hoodie, with nothing on under either of them. I felt deliciously naughty going commando. Red came rumbling down the street right at noon. I was waiting for him, on the sidewalk in front of my building. His face lit up with a smile as he pulled in. His eyes twinkled too. "Hey, Squirt," he said, his voice a little louder than normal, to be heard over the roar of his motorbike, "hop on!" I jumped up. This time I didn't need any instructions or invitations. I wrapped my arms around his body, my hands gliding across the fabric of his t-shirt, running over the taut solid muscles of his belly, and pulled my body into his. And again, I was struck by how much heat Red gave off. It warmed me, and made me elated that I had run into him yesterday, renewing our acquaintance, and even though it started off with my misery, by the time we'd parted company yesterday, I'd felt like I'd made the best friend I'd ever had in the world. His body was so much larger than mine, thick and strong and solid. We raced off. Twenty minutes later, we were pulling onto a quiet street, roaring past properties hidden by trees and fences and rolling security gates. The whole Southlands area was for the wealthy, and scattered with multi- million dollar places. I was curious about how Red could afford to live there, but I knew enough not to ask him. We pulled up to an eight-foot tall solid black gate, across a driveway that was wide enough for two lanes. Red punched a code into a keypad on a concrete post, and the gate started sliding open. Once enough room was cleared, Red twisted his throttle and we skipped over the rail and down the driveway. It curved, to a house that looked like a Beverly Hills mansion. Red pulled in front, and shut off the bike. He held out his hand for me, and helped me off the back. I don't know if he'd intended on letting go of my hand or not, but I didn't give him the choice. I gripped him pretty good, enough that he had to know I wasn't letting go. He didn't object. Once inside the front door, we headed straight through the vast open- concept living/dining/kitchen area, me oohing and aahing all the way, through some huge sliding glass doors, and out onto the patio. He wanted to show me the pool first. The smooth tile patio was huge, and wrapped around a really big pool. There was about a thirty-person hot tub next to it. Behind that was the pool house, with the pumps and filters and such, and then further back a shed of some sort. There was a beautiful cedar gazebo off to the side. It looked like the perfect shaded place to sit on a hot day, in between sessions in the pool. Or the perfect place to make love, under starry skies at night. "Wow," I said, truly in awe, "this is fantastic, Red. What a great place!" He smiled triumphantly. "I told you, right?" "You're lucky to live here." He shook his head. "Luck has nothing to do with it. Somebody owed us some money, and we settled the account by accepting the house and property as payment." I'd never heard of such things. "Like the barter system?" I asked. He smiled, but it had sadness in it. "Some people get so screwed up, almost always by their own doing, and this particular couple were like that. He was a big success in venture capital. She was a trophy wife. Three kids, two of them adults and out of the house. He gambled away most of their fortune, and she snorted away the rest of it." He paused for a second, as if he was deciding how much to tell me. "When they ran through all their cash, she sold her jewelry. Then she started turning tricks. He started conning people out of their money, with fake investments and hedge funds and shit like that." I nodded, as if I understood what those were. "We eventually came to an agreement with them. They gave up this house and property, and we let them take their one remaining kid and start new somewhere else." Then he paused. "It was the best-case scenario for them. We were being extra generous. They got the clothes on their backs, and a few knick-knacks, whatever they could stuff in a suitcase. That was it. I moved in right after." He pointed back at the house. "Lots of their stuff is still here. I never go in any of their rooms, actually." "You don't?" He shook his head. "But it's your house now, isn't it?" He nodded. "I use a bedroom, and the kitchen, and the living room. That's all I need. There's a gym, downstairs that I work out in sometimes. That's about it. Oh, and the media room, with the big screen. Best way to watch a movie." Then he stuck his hand out again, and invited me to take it. I had no hesitation. "Let me show you," he said. We wandered back to the house. There was a baby grand piano in a sitting room. There was an office, with one wall completely covered in floor-to-ceiling bookcases in a deep red oak, the spines of hundreds of books facing us. The desktop itself was scattered with papers and files. It looked like an active office. Upstairs, there was the master suite on one side of the house connected to three other bedroom suites on the other side by a suspended glass walkway. Red had his stuff in the master, so he showed me the other rooms. The first bedroom we came to was the sons. He must have been in his mid-to-late teens, judging by the posters on the wall and the stuff in his room. He had a gigantic four-poster canopy bed, and on one wall there were half a dozen guitars hanging on hooks, almost like art. "Oh wow!" I exclaimed, and admired them. A couple of Strats, a flying- V, a Gibson, and two acoustics, one a beautiful Ovation with their signature curved backs. There was a Fender amp on the floor, with a bunch of foot pedals. I reached out and touched the guitar. "You want it?" he asked. I spun to look at him. "Seriously?" He smiled. "Of course. I don't play them." "But what if they decide to come back..." His mood darkened, and he shook his head no. Emphatically. "They aint coming back." I picked an acoustic guitar off the wall, and held it in my hands. My fingers went to a G chord, and I strummed it. The room had high ceilings, like all the rooms, so the sound reverberated around. It sounded bright. Red smiled at me again. "Think about it," he said, "if you live here, you can play them all, with the amp turned up loud." The next bedroom suite we visited was a woman's. One of the daughters, he figured. There were still clothes hanging in the closet, and pictures on the wall, and all sorts of bottles and jars and tubes of stuff on the bathroom countertop. In the basement, there was the media room, which was huge and had ten of those large leather reclining chairs in them. "Perfect for watching movies," Red said. He held my hand again and led me past the wine cellar, which had dozens of bottles, and some store rooms, which had camping gear and old boxes of junk and miscellaneous foot wear and sporting goods. One wall had shelves full of Christmas decorations, and some Halloween ones as well, plus dozens of other boxes and plastic bins. There was even a wedding dress box; the top slightly bent open, the glistening of something white and satiny inside. Finally, we found our way back up to the main floor, and he offered to make me a drink, while I made myself comfortable in the living room, staring at the huge river-rock fireplace. A few minutes later, Red came in carrying something dark for him and something light for me. "I thought maybe you'd like some white wine," he said, handing me a goblet. "Thank you." I took a sip. I was never a big wine drinker, but this was quite delicious. "Mmm, yum," I said, and stared at him, as he sat down next to me on the sofa. Our legs were touching, but only just. "So," he paused, "did you have any problems with almost drowning last night?" It touched me that he remembered. "No," I replied, "I didn't." He smiled. "That's a good thing, right?" I smiled back at him. "Yes, it is." His face smiled, and then he looked at me again, studying me. "You should make yourself comfortable." I nodded. "I am comfortable." His forehead scrunched up a bit. "In that hoodie?" he asked, incredulously, "isn't it a wee bit warm for that?" I giggled at his attempt at a Scottish accent, and then nodded at him. "You're right, it is a bit warm in here," I teased, "but I'm not wearing anything underneath my hoodie, and I don't want to offend anyone, or get any of my sweat all over this nice leather couch." His grin was huge. "I don't give a fuck about stains on the couch," he said, quietly. "And besides, it's just us guys here, right? How could I be offended?" I nodded again. "So," I teased, coyly looking away, "are you trying to get me naked?" "What are you embarrassed about? I've seen your body before, lots of times." I spun my head to him. "You have?" He smiled and grinned and beamed. "Sure," he said, taking a big slurp on his drink, "at some of your swimming competitions." I was surprised. My brain raced feverishly, trying to remember any meet where Red had been there. I couldn't recollect a single one. "You watched me swim?" I asked, more intrigued about it than I'd ever been about anything before. "When?" He looked at me, letting me know he was serious. "Lots of times." My heart felt warmer now than it had. "Really?" His look didn't change. "Really. I probably didn't show it at the time, but I had some school spirit. And," he paused, "I knew you, and you were always the best swimmer on the team. So yeah, I've seen your body before, lots." I looked at him, hoping that he'd take what I was about to say in the spirit I intended it. "I've never seen your body," I whispered, "all those years of growing up down the street." His eyes flickered, and the corners of his mouth moved up a little. "And that's something you might be interested in?" he asked, knowingly. I could only nod. "Okay," he said, leaning over and putting his drink down on the coffee table. "I'll show you mine, if you show me yours." I delicately placed my goblet down and grabbed the zipper on my hoodie, sliding it down slowly, like a tease, like a stripper might do, and his eyes followed every agonizingly-slow movement. When I was halfway down, I stopped, and gazed at him, giving him a cue. He reached down with both of his hands, grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, and in one fluid motion peeled it up and off himself. Red tossed it on another chair, grabbed his drink again, and settled back into the couch. His body was amazing. He was so much bigger than me, so much more built than me. Hell, he was bigger and better built than most men. He had muscles on muscles. He was toned and taut and solid. He had very little hair, just a breezy patch near his belly button and the hint of a treasure trail leading down into his pants. He had a couple of tats on his arms, just artistic designs, no words or figures. His skin glowed, with his deep tan and vibrancy. He looked like a statue, carved from the finest Italian marble by a Master. I finished unzipping myself, and shrugged the hoodie off me, laying it behind me to protect the fabric of the couch. Maybe he didn't mind stains, but I did. Then we just stared at each other, half-naked. His chest rose up and down a little faster now, as did mine, and I noticed that his eyes were travelling all over my torso, up and down and around, stopping every once in a while to stare at my nipples. They seemed to hold some interest for him. I still couldn't be sure if he was sexually interested in me. I mean, it seemed like a no-brainer, between all the things he'd said to me yesterday and today, and his generous offer to stay in this amazing mansion, and his talk of cross-dressing sexual webcasts and such. But there was still a measure of doubt in my mind. I could be interpreting everything the wrong way. Maybe he was just being a nice guy to an old neighbor. "So, how was the rest of your evening last night?" he asked, almost like he was flirting with me. "Oh," I said, coyly, "you know, the usual." He nodded. "And what is 'the usual'? for you on a Friday night?" For one second the doubting part of my brain tried to stop the impending avalanche of what I wanted to say, but it lost the battle almost immediately. "My new usual is to surf the net, looking for other people like Sierra, and seeing what kind of fun they can get up to." I'd never been so bold in my life. Never so brave. I was nervous, putting myself out there, but at the same time, he'd suggested it in the first place, so I was hoping like crazy that he wouldn't be put off. He grinned like a man who'd just won the lottery. "And what'd you find?" I laughed out loud, so much so my head rocked back a little. I know my face went a little red, but there was no way I wasn't letting myself be open with Red. In some ways, mostly emotionally, he'd been my saviour yesterday. "Well, I may have found paradise." He nodded as if he understood exactly what I was saying. I was giddy with it all, what I'd discovered about myself. I could almost feel the tube of the bicycle pump still inside me, still pushing my insides open, still making me full. I was missing it. "I just never knew that things like that existed, Red," I confessed. "And," I paused, "I think I know now what you were talking about yesterday." His eyes focussed more on me, and he shifted his body a little, as if he was getting more comfortable on the sofa. It made his big leg touch mine a little more. "We talked about a lot of things yesterday." I nodded. I recalled his words, verbatim. "You said, and I quote, 'I know from personal experience that there are certain very successful businesspeople and entrepreneurs, outstanding in their chosen field, who couldn't hold a candle to you, with your condition, and with the right uniform.'" I fixed my gaze on his eyes. "You were saying that there are girls like Sierra, who are good at what they do and apparently make money from it, and that I have the potential to be even better than them." I let that hang in the air. "Especially if I was wearing the right clothes." He nodded slightly, as if he was acknowledging what I'd just said was true. "And you have questions you'd like to ask?" I took a big sip of wine, and swallowed it down. "Lots," I giggled. "Okay," he giggled, "shoot." "Who is she? Do you know her? Is she from around here?" His grin kept getting bigger. "You keep calling Sierra a 'she'." I nodded. "But you did see all of her, right?" I nodded again. Emphatically. "I did see. Everything. And Sierra is the sexiest woman I've ever seen. Although," I paused, "I have to admit, about four hours of surfing later, I found a whole lot of other gurls who are also pretty damn sexy." Red laughed out loud. His big barrel chest rocked up and down. I don't think I'd ever seen him this happy. "I'm glad you liked it." I looked at him. I let him know what I wanted with my eyes. "Sierra works in a bank. She has a wife, and a daughter. A couple of days a week, she likes to skip off work early, and do a webcast. We have interests in a wide variety of adult entertainment industries, including websites that feature people like Sierra." He paused, and let me ask a question. "She works in a bank? So this isn't her only career?" He shook his head. "She's an assistant manager at a bank downtown. She doesn't really even do the webcasts for the money, although that's a great bonus for her. Mostly she does it because getting all girly and all the shit that follows is a part of who she is, it's an outlet for her fetish, her kink. Bottom line," he said, "she loves the sex." I sat there, my mouth slightly open. "So, part-time, how much does she make?" Red laughed. "I don't know exactly. But I do know this," he paused, "we host her private website, where people pay a fee to subscribe. Last time I looked, she was upwards of twenty thousand members, from all over the world, each of them paying eight bucks a month for unlimited access to her live casts and her catalogue of vids." My mind did the math quickly, and I gasped out loud. "She's making almost two hundred grand a year doing porn?" My voice was loud, and incredulous. His face got serious again. "Hell no," he said, and waited. "Sierra gets a percentage, just like the other artists we have in our stable. The rest goes to cover the costs and provide us with some profit." Then he smiled again. "But I'd guess she probably makes more than you make in a year," Red said, in a non-judgemental way. And the way he smiled at me filled me with elation. "Part-time," I said. "Part-time," he agreed. "And you think that...?" He reached out and placed his big hand on my thigh. "I think that if it's something that interests you, that you could blow her numbers out of the water. But," he stopped, and got serious, "only if you really want it. Only if those kinds of activities are things you'd enjoy. Then he waited. "Like Sierra." Meaning, of course, the sex. He'd already said she did it because she loved the sex. I nodded, and took another big gulp of wine. "I don't know, Red," I whispered, after swallowing, "I've never done anything like that." "Like what?" he immediately asked. "Like dressing up in women's clothes, like wearing make-up." He smiled. "Or like, well, like having sex that way. Having a man make love to me, like she did." There was a tension in the air. Red leaned forward, getting his body and face closer to me. "And is that something you might like to try? To find out?" I took my sweet time. I never let my eyes leave his. Finally, I nodded. "Maybe." For the longest time, I got that same feeling I'd yesterday afternoon, after he'd dropped me off at my apartment, after he'd let me hug him in my doorway. I got the distinct impression he wanted to kiss me. I know for a fact that I wanted him to kiss me. More than just about anything. There was a huge silence that hung in the air, as Red and I sat and stared at each other. And it was incremental, but our upper bodies were getting closer to each other. My brain was screaming at me to move faster, so I could finally get to be kissed, but I didn't want to rush him, and I didn't want to offend him, in case after all this I still had it wrong. Finally, after some agonizingly slow movements, his face was within inches of mine. Our eyes were locked. His lips were open slightly. He had the most amazing look on his face. It was like he'd never seen candy before, and now he was trying to decide which sweet treat he was going to have first. Mere moments away from being kissed, his stupid phone rang. The noise jolted us both a little bit. He looked at the screen, and frowned. "I have to take this," he said, sighing. Then his big thumb slid across the screen and he held the phone up to his ear. "Hang on," he instructed the caller. Then he put the phone flat on his leg, face-down, so the person couldn't hear us. "This might take a while," he apologized, "so why don't you go for a swim? Or you could play the guitar, if you want. Check out the bedrooms again. If you're going to rent a room here, you can pretty much have your pick. Except the master, of course, that's mine." The way he smiled at that made me think he was hinting at something. The old what's-mine-is-yours kind of thing. He continued. "There's plenty of booze in the kitchen, if you want some. Food too. If you're hungry, eat whatever you can find. There's some good weed in a coffee container in one of the cupboards, if you're into that stuff. And by the way," he stopped and got a serious look on his face, "if you're going to move in here, you should know there are some house rules, and one of them is I don't allow anything other than booze and weed, no hard drugs at all. I don't give the cops any excuses to bust in here." I nodded my understanding. He smiled at me. "I'll join you when I'm done with this." I smiled back at him. "Okay." He stood up, bare from the waist up. His jeans, I couldn't help but notice, had a big lump in them. My eyes lingered on it, and then bounced up to his eyes. He'd been watching me all the way, and he smiled again, from ear to ear. Then he turned and wandered off, telling the person on the phone to "talk to me". My eyes went straight to his ass. He filled his jeans out really well, and I could see the roundness of his bum. It looked powerful, and as muscled and in-shape as the rest of him. Then my eyes travelled upwards. And that was the moment that my world cratered. That was the exact moment when my decision was made. That, more than anything else that had happened, was the catastrophically-important moment in my life. My watershed. My awakening. My re-birth. Red had a tattoo on his back, of an eagle in flight. The exact same tattoo as the mystery man who'd fucked Sierra, in the clip. THE EXACT SAME TATTOO!!!! It was Red. It was him. He'd been the one to make love to her! The camera angle hadn't been great, and I'd seen very little of his body, but I remembered that tattoo. It was ingrained in my soul. He'd been the man who entered her, took her, and sent her on a rocket ship ride of joy. The noises she'd made when he was inside of her, when his cock was buried to the hilt in her pussy, they were otherworldly in nature, entirely primeval, entirely feral. She'd become like a monster, her moans and grunts and exhalations unlike anything I'd ever heard before. I wanted to be just like her. I wanted to make those same noises, while having someone send me on the same incredible journey of the body and spirit. IT WAS RED!!!!!! I did want to swim. Reaching for my backpack, I decided to change into the red speedos for my swim. I wandered down the giant hall, to the guitar room, to change. Scanning the guitars again, I realized I had an almost-painful erection in my jeans. Then I realized that I'd had it since the second he'd rumbled down the road to pick me up. Then it occurred to me that the way I'd pulled my body into his from behind, squeezing myself super tight against him, on the bike, made it possible that he was well aware of my erection. I moved to the woman's room. Slowly, I toured the room. The closet doors were half-open, and I finished the job. There was a banquet of clothes hanging: dresses, skirts, sweaters, gowns, blouses, short shorts, long fitted pants, and more. There were shoes and boots on the floor. There was even a cheerleaders uniform. There was also drawer after drawer of stuff in cupboards and dressers. Pajamas and nighties and socks and swimsuits and more sweaters and several drawers of slips and camisoles and bras and panties and every kind of lingerie I'd ever seen. Whoever she was, I liked her taste in clothes. I stripped off my jeans, and found my red speedos in my knapsack. Sliding them up my sleek smooth freshly-shaved legs was challenging, in the sense that I had to work at not succumbing to my heightened sexual fervor and just cum all over the floor. And getting the material around my hard penis was fun too. Trying not to touch myself, at the same time as trying to touch myself a little, to enjoy the feeling of soft silky material on skin. Halfway down the hall towards the living room, I stopped. Something registered in my brain. Swimsuits. I raced back to her room. Throwing the drawer open again, I took stock. She had several bikinis, and a couple of one-piecers. One of the bikinis seemed to be alive. It was calling to me. My eyes couldn't not look at it. I tried, but to no avail. I saw the two pieces, and nothing else. They were the colour of grape Kool-Aid. And sparkly metallic. They shimmered. They shone. They were barely there, little hints of fabric, no doubt meant to make a sexy woman look even sexier, and feel sexy. They made my already-throbbing erection want to explode! I had to concentrate on not cumming as I slid my speedos off. I had to doubly concentrate on not cumming when I slid the bikini bottoms on. They were basically just a thin strip of shiny material and three strings. The one string went straight up between my ass cheeks, and wedged itself in. It felt like sin. I'd never felt better in my entire life. I was swallowing lots of saliva now; it seemed to be flowing in my mouth. It was like I was warming up for something. I knew what it might be, but I didn't want to think that far ahead, in case I somehow got everything wrong. Tying the bikini top around my chest and neck was unlike anything I'd ever done before, in my entire life. It was a foreign act. And yet, somehow, it felt like the most natural thing I'd ever done. I saw some feathery mules in the closet, on the floor, and pulled them out. They looked smaller than what I needed, but I decided to slip them on my feet anyway. My toes got scrunched up pretty good. The heels were only a couple of inches, but they were thin little stumps that totally changed my reality about walking. My left ankle almost bent over to the floor, the first time I tried to step in them. Practice makes perfect, and I spent a few moments walking up and down and around her room, past the big Queen-sized bed, into the bathroom filled with the scent of potpourri and back out again. Her room. Then the thought occurred to me. It could be my room. I gazed all around, taking inventory. Yes, it was a soft shade of pink on the walls. Yes, there were more decorative pillows on the bed than I've ever seen in one room before in my life. Yes, there was make-up and hair scrunchies and jewelry scattered here and there. Yes, it was all decidedly feminine. And yes, I decided it would be my room. I swayed my hips and walked back into the living room. My heart was racing at about a million miles a minute, thrilled at my audacity and still slightly nervous about how Red would react. I could hear his voice, barely, from down the hall. He didn't sound happy. I walked outside, the mules clicking and clacking on the tiles of the patio. I'd grabbed a big towel from her room, er, my room, and set it down on one of the giant lounge chairs. I took the last swig of wine from the glass Red had given me, and swallowed it down. Then I dove into the water, at the deep end. Wearing a shiny metallic two-piece grape-coloured bikini. When I hit the water, the top came off me. The string around my neck, the halter, wasn't done up well enough. If I'd been a real woman, I probably would have known about that sort of thing. I fixed my string, retying the halter, and started doing lazy laps, kicking my legs slowly, enjoying the water, which seemed like a second home to me. More so, however, I was over-the-moon enjoying swimming while dressed in a bikini. I swam for a while. Some backstrokes, some on my front. My favorite stroke was the butterfly, because it was the one I was most proficient at, and I did a whole bunch of laps that way. I was in my element. I was in my nirvana. My heaven. Swimming in cool water, on a hot day. The added thrills of being dressed in women's clothes catapulted the experience from a nine out of ten to about a fourteen-thousand out of ten. Lost in the revelry, I didn't hear Red come back out of the house. So he shocked me a little bit, when I looked up during one stroke and saw his huge imposing body standing next to the pool. I almost gulped down a lungful of water. He'd slid into some board shorts. His pecs were massive. That was the first thing I noticed, after sputtering out some pool water. They were bronzed with sun, and round and solid and looked as strong as steel. His nipples were pointy and pinky-brown. He was just standing there, staring down at me. I thought maybe something was wrong, at first. Then I realized. He was staring at my choice of swimwear. The sun was behind him, so I had to shade my eyes to get some details. Red was smiling more than I'd ever seen him do before. I could see all his teeth, gleaming white. His eyes were electric, like they were singing a song of joy. His board shorts grew a tent in them. I stopped swimming, and floated on my back over towards the edge of the pool, where he was standing. The way I was laying on the water, he could see everything. My shaved-smooth body, my little hard on, straining at the material of the bikini. He could see his friend, his neighbour, the boy who grew up just down the street from him, floating in a clear-blue swimming pool, wearing the tiniest thongiest purple bikini, bottoms and top. The top just barely covered my nipples. "C'mon in, Red," I invited, "the water is fantastic!" He nodded. It was a little slow, and forced. "I will." It seemed to me his tent was getting bigger. That thought hit me like a bullet. "I'll turn away and not look, if you want," I added. His head cocked a little bit, as if he didn't understand what I was saying. "Well," I continued, "yesterday you said you like to swim out here naked. So if that's what you want to do, I can close my eyes and give you your privacy until you're in the water. After all," I paused, "it is your house, and so far I'm just a guest here." "So far?" he asked, a big smile appearing on his face. "So far," I agreed, "but if the offer is still open, I'm thinking pretty hard about taking you up on it." He nodded, and slipped his hands down to the top of his shorts. "The offer is still very much open." Then he slid the shorts down, easy as pie, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be naked in front of me. When he kicked them away, he stood with his hands by his sides, and almost posed for me. Red was a mesomorph. Almost every muscle was delineated, crisp and clean lines showing his strength and masculinity. He rocked being naked. Tanned even where most people aren't, I saw nothing but golden skin and the curves of a very healthy man. He was big, everywhere. His feet were even huge. Of course, there were two things I had to look at. My eyes kept bouncing between them. His eyes, which were like magnets to me, drawing me in, pulling at me, most definitively the windows to his soul. And his manhood. His cock. His penis. His erection. His throbbing, pulsing, swaying missile of man-meat, jutting out from his hard body, his hairy balls hanging below, bigger than any I'd ever seen before. Red just stood there. Proud. Unashamed. Giving me every opportunity to admire his form, to allow his nakedness to permeate my soul. Maybe he was giving me a chance to back out, to say no thanks. A final opportunity to change my mind. If so, his respectful gesture to me was most appreciated, but entirely unnecessary. I had no idea what was going to happen here, or later today. But I did know that I wouldn't miss any of it, not for the entire world. "Wow, Red," I whispered, "you're really built." He turned slightly, allowing me to see everything from a different angle. "And you," he started to say what I assumed was 'Squirt' again, and then stopped himself. "What?" I asked. He shook his head. "Sorry," he said, pausing, "It's just," he paused again, "I was about to call you Squirt, and to be honest, you don't look like yourself right now, so I don't know what to call you." My given name was Ronald. Most people called me Ron. It just popped into my head. "I like the name Veronica," I said, almost whispering. Red smiled. A huge million-watt grin came across his face. "Veronica," he said. "I like it." Then he walked over to the steps, and slowly started descending into the pool. I watched him every single step of the way. When the water was almost high enough to cover up his groin, he stopped. The tip of his massive erection was sticking up out of the water, like the world's biggest reed, straining to find sunlight. His eyes were burning into mine. There was an intensity there I'd seen yesterday, at my apartment, when I was hugging him. Well, he was hugging me back too, of course. But it was that same look as before. The look that made me think he wanted to kiss me. The look that made me hope he would kiss me. Now, wearing a metallic purple bikini, and floating on my back in his pool, I wanted him to do way more than just kiss me. Time would tell. He waded towards me, the water slowly rising up and almost to his chest. With his feet still on the floor. "How about you call me Jamie?" he whispered. As he got up close to me, the movement of the water that he was displacing tried to push me away from him. I moved my arms in the water, flapped them, to reverse that course. There was just no way I was going anywhere away from him. He waded towards me, and then underwater I saw his arms slowly reach out. One went under my knees. One went under my shoulders. The next thing I knew Red was lifting me up, lifting my entire body out of the water, towards him. My left arm naturally rose, and as my body touched his I wrapped it around his thick neck. His eyes sparkled, more than the sunlight on the water. There were no words. There were no explanations, or excuses, or long drawn-out detailed discussions of how either of us felt. We both knew how we felt. All my doubts were gone. In one continuous motion, he continued to lift my body higher. My right arm moved by itself and tried to match my left, wrapped around his neck. Red's head turned slightly, to his right, to line up with my head. His eyes slowly closed, as we neared. My eyes slowly closed, at the last second. We kissed. HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!!!! This huge man kissed me with the tenderness I'd have expected from a long-time lover. His lips were larger than mine, and soft, and pliable, and quivering with emotion. And about three seconds after our lips met, when he realized that I wasn't trying to get away, that I wasn't objecting, that I was kissing him back, that I wanted and needed to be kissed by him, all the breath in his massive lungs came out of his nostrils in one long burst. Which is when his tongue tapped my lips, gently, asking for permission to enter. I couldn't open my lips fast enough. I wanted his tongue to taste me. I couldn't think of anything in the world I wanted more than to suck on his tongue, to love it, to let him know every part of me, every inch of me. Outside and in. I swooned, I reeled, I faded in and out of reality. I was almost floating inside, my brain shut off, my critical thinking stowed away, my entire past disappearing. I knew one thing, and one thing only. I wanted Red more than life itself. And I remembered his words from yesterday, about seizing the moment, and grabbing life whenever possible. Taking what you want, finding your joy amidst all the misery and pain. I broke the kiss, for just a second. "Jamie," I purred, loving the sound of his real name sliding across my lips. He smiled. "Veronica. Ronnie." "It was you, wasn't it?" His eyebrows knitted a bit. "What was me?" "In the video, with Sierra." His eyes narrowed. "You're the man who made love to her?" He shook his head, which shocked me. "NO? But..." He shushed me. "I fucked her. That's it. Her regular guy didn't show up, and the show has to go on. I didn't make love to her. I've fucked her a few times, on camera, that's all. But it's never been about making love with her. Just fucking. There's a difference." I couldn't think of a thing to say. "But you," he added, his voice soft and honest, "you, that's a different story." I wondered how, which he must have gleaned from the look on my face. "Right now," he whispered, "I don't want to fuck you." "You don't?" I asked. He shook his head. "No." Then he paused. Then his face got really serious. "If you'll let me, right now," he paused, "I'd give anything to make love with you." I swallowed the pool of saliva in my mouth. My nerves were almost shattered, my will almost depleted. For a second or two, I thought things were going south. "PLEASE!" I begged. "PLEASE MAKE LOVE TO ME, JAMIE!" He kissed me again. His lips seemed to mold to mine perfectly, the both of us moaning into the others mouth. His tongue played inside my mouth, which was so wet that I had to swallow often, which meant that his tongue felt all that sucking motion often, which seemed to make him moan even more. I was working his tongue, sucking on it, swallowing over and over again. I didn't realize it at first, but I was imagining it to be a cock. His cock. His massive cock. Red carried me up and out of the pool. If he opened his eyes to see where he was walking, I didn't see it. My eyes were wide open, farther than probably any moment in my life. I was in a kind of shock. I mean, don't get me wrong, it was the best kind of shock possible, but still. This hulk of a man, someone I'd known since kindergarten, someone who was in what I could only imagine was a rough and tough way of life, was tenderly kissing me, making love to my mouth with his lips and tongue, and it must have been so good for him that he didn't want to open his eyes. He was carrying me, dressed and acting like a woman, across his patio and into his house and up the stairs towards his bedroom, all without opening his eyes. He was taking me to his bed, by feel and memory alone. His words kept repeating in my head. He didn't want to fuck me. He wanted to make love to me. Make love with me. Suddenly, images of her room, soon to be my room, flashed through my head. I ran my fingers through Red's short hair on the back of his head, and when we got to the top of the stairs, I broke our kiss. "Please put me down, Red." His look of disappointment was heart-breaking. I think he thought I'd changed my mind, that I didn't want to follow through on all of this, that I didn't want to make love with him. He couldn't have been more wrong. "Jamie," I whispered, standing up on my tip-toes to softly kiss him, "give me a few minutes. I need to get changed." His look of bitter disappointment faded, slowly, as he realized what I was talking about. "Changed?" he asked. I nodded, boisterously. "Let me find something sexy to wear for you," I said, slowly backing down the hall towards my soon-to-be bedroom. "Let me get gurly for you, please?" His smile said it all. Well, that, and his mammoth cock, larger than most I've ever seen, even through all of my research, all the different men having sex with gurly boys like me that I'd seen online. Red's cock was long, and thick, and cut, and bobbing up and down with his breathing and his movements. The very tip of it was shiny, with a liquid. I knew what it was. I wanted it. I dashed to him again, and I leaped up while he leaned down, and we kissed again, this time his tongue immediately slipping into my mouth. When we broke, I smiled at him, and with one finger, I gingerly touched the head of his hard-on. I touched the precum. I took that finger and brought it up to my mouth. I made sure his eyes were firmly on mine, and then I sucked that finger in, my tongue instantly lapping up his liquid. You could hear my moan bouncing and echoing off the walls. "MMMMMMMMMMMMM!" Red smiled, from ear to ear. "I'll be waiting for you, in my room." I nodded. "I'll be as quick as I can." We stared at each other. "Veronica," he said, quietly and reverently, "I can't wait to hold you, and kiss you, and use that wet mouth of yours." I giggled. "You'll have to wait, for a few minutes." Then I disappeared into her room. My room. I saw dresses and skirts and blouses and they were all so feminine and lovely and sexy. But immediately I realized, there was little point in going that far. Lingerie would do it for now. A dress would be coming off right away, I imagined. I moved to her dressers. There was so much to choose from! The bikini I'd been wearing hit the floor about five seconds later. I stood in the room, the soft thick carpeting between my toes, completely naked, and dripping wet from the pool. Reality hit hard, and I ran to the adjoining bathroom, and found a big fluffy towel, and dried off. There were mirrors everywhere, and I watched myself, my eyes staring into my eyes, amazed at what I was doing and why I was doing it. I was practically over-dosing on emotions, and my mouth was as wet as a puddle. Staring into my own soul, I just kept thinking about how amazing it was. Amazing that I was here in this house. Amazing that I had just been kissing the biggest bad-ass tough guy I'd ever known, other than his brothers, and he was gentle and loving and tender and romantic. Amazing that I was drying off so that I could find some feminine lingerie to wear for him. Amazing that I was doing all of this in preparation of crossing a huge line. Crossing a line I'd never contemplated before, never imagined, never knew I wanted or needed. Amazing that I was looking at her countertop and realizing that I needed to throw on some makeup. Amazing that I was a few minutes away from taking a man's cock into me, into my mouth, and into my body, into my pussy, into the most intimate part of me. Amazing how life can change, from the lowest of lows yesterday, from hearing the doctor tell me about my condition, to the highest of highs now. Love-making, with Red. My experience with make-up was, of course, nil. I saw all sorts of tubes and sticks and jars on the counter, and didn't even know what half of them were. But I did see some eye shadow, which was a light sky blue, and I thought would look good on me, with my coloring. Carefully dabbing some on me, I spread it so my upper eye lid was covered. Then I saw some eye liner, and gave my lash line a thickness and darkness it'd never had before. Looking in the mirror, I realized it made my eyes pop, made them sparkle, made them immediately the first thing anyone would see. She had left several tubes of lipstick, including one that was the brightest shiniest cherry red I'd ever seen. I made a kissy-face and did my lips up, smacking them together a couple of times. Looking at myself, it was like staring into the picture of a completely different person. That wasn't me, exactly, with the make up on. And yet, it was me, and it felt so much like how I would love to feel every second of every day. Sexy, and feminine, and alluring. There was a small cabinet that contained jewelry. There were rings, some of them quite gaudy, and I slid a couple on the small fingers of both of my hands. There were bracelets, and several of those went around my wrists. At the last second, I saw hoop earrings, the clip-on style, which was good, since neither of my ears were pierced. I made a mental note to change that. Finally, I saw some hair gel. I realized on the spot that I wanted long flowing locks, like a woman would have. But, for the moment, I had to deal with what I had. I slicked back my hair, like Annie Lennox in the "Sweet Dreams" video. Mine wasn't orange, but it did add to my overall look, and I did a huge assessment in the mirror. I looked feminine, and exotic, and sultry. I saw some nail polish, several bottles. I thought about doing up my fingers and toes. Then I thought about Red, in his bedroom waiting for me, his amazing cock throbbing for me, dreaming about spending time in my wet, very wet mouth. I could do my nails later. Skipping to her dresser, I took stock of what she'd left for me. Like a beacon, amongst all the different stuff I saw, two things stood out. A matching bra and panties, the color of night. Black as black can be. And with lace trim everywhere. I had to stop myself from touching my own little cock as I slid the panties up my smooth legs. I had to concentrate on not cumming, so close was I to orgasm. I had to wait for a moment while putting the bra on, as my whole body shuddered in ecstasy, almost sending me over the edge. An edge I somehow knew would be the biggest edge I'd ever known. Racing to the closet, I scanned the floor, looking at all the shoes she'd left. And there they were! Perfect. I slid into black stilettos, with super-tall heels. I still wouldn't be as tall as Red, but it would be close. Then, I giggled, realizing that there was probably going to be very little time where we'd be standing. No matter. I walked about my new room for a few moments, getting used to the height of the heels, and admiring myself in the mirror. Sexy long legs, a big round ass thrust out, make-up, the works. MAN! I loved the way I looked. I'd never looked like this before. I wanted to look like this forever. Strutting down the hall, my stomach was jumping and twirling in anticipation. I was walking towards my childhood friend, dressed as a woman, and he was waiting in his bed, his cock massive and huge, waiting to make love with me. I'd never wanted anything more in my life. For a brief moment some nervousness entered my mind, thoughts about his cock penetrating me, opening me up, like so many of the gurls I'd seen online last night. Would it hurt? Would I be able to even take him? Would I bleed? Would it do me damage, in some way? Then his words from yesterday came back at me. "You can be afraid of whatever is coming, every second of every day for the rest of your life, but it won't be much like living. Or, you can go for things, try things, different things. Things you might have thought about, maybe dreamed about, growing up, or even now, when you're all alone." He was right, I realized. I strutted into his bedroom, with a confidence I'd never known before. This was what I wanted. This was what I needed. This was what I dream about, when I'm all alone. Red looked up at me from his bed. He was lying on his side, his head propped up on one elbow, a satin sheet barely covering the lower half of his body. I couldn't see his cock, but I could see its shape. My mouth filled with saliva. I wanted to taste him. His eyes went huge, and the shape of the lump under the sheet changed. It got WAY bigger. "Wow," he whispered. Then he pulled the sheet back, slowly. Tantalizing me. Inviting me. I gently lay down next to him, on my side, and he covered us both with the sheet. I looked up into his eyes, and we stared at each other for moments on end. It was like we were having a conversation, but there were no words spoken. He was telling me that he'd never been so enamored in his life as he was with me, and how the entire universe could explode in flames right now and he wouldn't see any of it, because all of his energies and concentration was on me. I was telling him that I wanted him, that I needed him, and that even though I'd never done anything like this in my life, that I trusted him, and that I was sure it would be the most amazing experience either one of us had ever had. He moved a little closer to me, and his fingers reached out and gently touched my cheek, and then my chin. My fingers gently reached out and touched his chest. His massive barrel of a chest. He was breathing quite heavily. The heat of his skin was palpable. I twirled my fingers around his pecs, delighted in realizing that his breath would catch every time I touched one of his nipples. I touched them a bunch. Then my hand slid down, across his belly. Slowly. His fingers magically continued touching the skin of my face. At one point, he put a finger to my lips, and I kissed it. Looking him in the eyes, I slowly opened my lips and sucked his fingertip in, caressing it with my tongue, wetting it with all the saliva building up in my mouth. Finally, after minutes of just touching each other, we moved closer still, and our eyes closed, and we kissed. THE BEST MOTHERFUCKING KISS IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD. His lips were strong, and yet subtle. His tongue was commanding, and yet respectful. His kiss started out slowly, and softly, but became fiercer as we went along. I followed him, every step of the way. I'd never kissed a man before, never dreamed of it until last night, and now all I could think about was that it was the most natural and delightful of kisses I could imagine. My fingers closed around the shaft of his cock. He was hot to the touch, and pulsing with life. He was wetter than wet too, almost pumping out his drips of pre-cum. I twirled it all around his shape, all around the head of his cut cock. He had a huge, mushroom-shaped head, bigger and wider and thicker than the rest of his shaft, which was already big and wide and thick. I used his natural juices to make his entire cock shiny, all the way to the root. I gently massaged his balls. They were enormous! They were like two ping pong balls, surrounded by a hot, slightly-hairy bag. His tongue became much more animated as soon as I began fondling those eggs, my soft manipulation egging him on. Our kiss deepened. His tongue was like a wild animal, thrashing about, trying to find freedom. My mouth wouldn't let him. I was practically flooding my own mouth with my saliva. My condition was in full swing. And my tongue, my enlarged tongue, was playing with his, swooping and dancing and jousting. His gigantic room was soon filled with the murmurs and moans and lip- smacking sounds of two people hurtling towards nirvana. I began stroking his cock, masturbating him with his own liquids. His big arms wrapped around my body, and pulled me to him, his fingers playing with the fabric of my bra and panties. My bra, and my panties. Let that sink in for a bit, I told myself. It was, of course, the first time I'd ever worn a bra, or panties. And it was obvious, stunningly mind-bogglingly apparent, to me and to Red, that this wouldn't be the last time either. The thought crossed my mind that I'd be wearing bras and panties every day for the rest of my life. My new life. My feminine life. I was jerking him off now, as his tongue revelled inside my soaking wet mouth. I was swallowing over and over again to keep up, and instead of being worried about my rare condition, I was overjoyed in it. I was drowning in the sensations of almost drowning in my own saliva. It was making me as hard as a nail, in my panties. I was trying desperately to rub myself up against his body, to get some friction going against my little soldier. Red's big paw moved down my lower back, and started massaging my bum cheeks. He was pulling me to him, as desperate as I was for some touch. In between kisses his big finger was surreptitiously sliding under the fabric of the panties, making big wide circles of movement on my ass cheek, slowly getting closer and closer to my crack, and then finally moving into the crack, touching the delicate skin everywhere, so unused to this kind of attention, and my whole body was shaking with delight. His finger was like his tongue, searching for more of me, taking what he wanted. When that big digit finally moved and touched the inward curve of my hole, I thought for a second or two that I would lose all my control, and cum, like a newbie rookie, spraying my white goodness all over the panties I was wearing. I concentrated and made sure that didn't happen. When his finger actually pressed into my hole, I thought again that I would lose everything. At one point, he quickly pulled his hand away from me, and he squeezed it between us, sliding it down to my little cock, where he gathered up some of my pre-cum, because returning to my ass, sliding his fingers under my panties again, the wetness was chilling and shocking to me, as his now-damp fingertip slid into me. Slid into me. I was sucking on his tongue, my mouth alive with saliva, my eyes shut because I didn't need to see anything at all. I realized that I was actually seeing myself from afar, from across the room, from over top of us, like the different shots in a movie. And that was the moment that I decided I would make porn as Veronica. If Sierra could make money at it, so could I! Finally, after a long time of kissing and touching and having his fingertip inside me, I broke our kiss. I'd never seen more disappointment on a man's face. I smiled, and began kissing my way down his body, turning my body so that I was perpendicular to him. His nipples were like little candies in my mouth, and I coated them in so much of my own spit that they shone like beacons when I moved further south. His belly was sensitive, I guess, because I could feel and see all sorts of muscles and skin flexing and moving here and there, as I laid a forest of kisses all over him. I seriously wanted to cover every square inch of him in kisses, but there was a big project that I was desperate to start. I realized that I needed to suck his cock. I thought it possible that I could die if I didn't get his erection into my mouth soon. There was nothing else on the planet that mattered to me more than tasting him, suckling him, adoring his manhood, honoring it with my lips and tongue and saliva. Turning my body even more, I slid my head down to his groin, partially covered in the satin sheet. Opening my eyes, I saw it, large and looming, and almost upside-down. He was huge, his cock was huge, and my hunger was huger. The big greasy wet spot on the end of the bell curve of his cockhead was my target. I slipped my tongue out of my mouth and touched him, just so, barely a wisp of connection, giving him just a scintilla of an idea of what he was about to receive. From above me I heard Red moan, from deep within his torso, a baritone reverberation that boomed out of his chest. It was, quite possibly, the sexiest sound I'd ever heard. And I was filled with pride, for having caused it. Two more tentative little licks at his cockhead covered my tongue in his sweet clear juice, which was flowing like a river, and I was the one doing all the moaning. Mine were decidedly less masculine than his. My mouth flooded. I became like a reservoir, my lips closed to hold back the tide of my saliva. Each microdot of pre-cum that he'd given me began their journey of affecting my taste buds, the slightly salty essence exciting my glands even more, and causing even more saliva to pool in my mouth. And despite the fact that I'd never done it before, that I had exactly zero experience, and that it was not something most people born male would ever even consider doing, it took all of one second for me to make up my mind and act. I flashed back to all those gurls in the videos that I'd watched last night, and the abject joy they'd all shown on their faces, the joy they obviously felt at being cocksuckers. In one fell swoop, I opened my mouth and took his cockhead into me, bathing it in spit, wetting it as I sucked, lubricating it to move further back into my mouth. "AH FUCK!" he yelled. I had to concentrate on not stopping, even though I wanted to bathe in the glory of the pride I felt, being the one who made him swear like that. Instead, I pushed forward, and took more of him into my mouth. My saliva was running down and out my mouth, and his cock was slicker than an umbrella in a rainstorm. I brought my mouth back off his penis, sucking all the way up, until there was a loud 'pop' noise, and he gasped and grunted above me. Then I pooled up my spit some more, and began my next descent. I took that thick round meat into my mouth again, all the way to the back of my mouth, just touching the entrance of my throat, and heard him yell "FUCK" again. I giggled, with his cock in my mouth. He still had enough presence of mind to slide his finger into my pussy again, this time a little bit farther. He had thick fingers, like everything else about him, and he was spreading me open. For one brief moment my mind focussed on something other than his cock in my mouth, and I prided myself, swelling with joy at having cleaned myself out earlier. Now, I knew for sure. Red was going to be inside my body today. Both ends. One was already accomplished, but any doubts I may have had about my asspussy disappeared at that moment. Red would be making love to me. My mouth filled again with saliva, and I instinctively began sucking harder, really pulling on his wet cock with my tongue and throat, making my mouth wetter than the wettest pussy in the real woman world. I was going to give Red the greatest blow-job of his life. My head started bobbing up and down, faster and faster, my suction stronger and stronger, my mouth wetter and wetter. Red was moaning out loud and unpronounceable noises, in between sliding one and then two fingers up and into me, spreading me open, making me loose for him. All of a sudden, he yelled out. "FUCK!" Then his hips started pumping like a pneumatic drill. That giant cock of his pistoned right into the opening of my throat, and I choked and sputtered and gagged, all of which probably just made the sensations on his cock-head better, because he worked himself to stay lodged deep within me. I wasn't worried about breathing at all, but I pushed on his thighs a little bit. I didn't want him cumming into my throat. I didn't want him to bypass my taste buds. I'd worked too hard for my first load of cum to sail straight past the pleasure center. He yelled out "FUCK!" one more time, and I managed to get part of him out of my throat, and then he just started pumping cum into me. It was like a firehose, big huge blasts of liquid, but my lifetime of swallowing all day every day meant I was easily able to take it all, gulp after gulp sliding down my gullet, my taste buds coated over and over again with his seed. And the thrill of it! OMG!!!! I was sucking on a cock, a man's cock, and swallowing all of his cum. It was creamy, and salty, and so unlike any other taste in the world. And the fact that it was coming, pardon the pun, from someone who I knew cared about me more than anyone else, just made it all the more special. At the height of his orgasm, Red had shoved two fingers as far as he possibly could into my asspussy, purely on instinct I suppose, but that was all it took for me. I blew my own head off. From somewhere deep within me, my entire body started spasming, hard and furious, and then I just started spewing out my own cum, screaming at the top of my lungs around Red's massive cock, in my mouth, my lips locked around it for fear of missing even one drop of his cum. I was insatiable! And my panties instantly became wet and then wetter and then wetter than wet. My own cum began seeping out from every crack and crevice it could find, and my asspussy muscles flexed around Red's fingers, pulsing with every heartbeat, squeezing him, trying to keep him inside me. My swallowing slowed down as his cumming slowed down, but I never stopped. Again, my condition helped me out. I'd spent my entire life swallowing thousands of times a day, and with his cock inside my mouth I just kept doing it. It was natural. It was logical. And it felt so fucking right. For about a second-and-a-half Red's cock began slimming down, after his mammoth explosion of cum. I could feel him losing just a touch of his thickness, as I heard him gasping and grunting above me, his fingers never leaving my hole. I just kept on sucking, and swallowing. It took about another second-and-a-half for him to start getting thick again. Red had amazing staying power. Much more than I'd ever exhibited, in my limited sexual encounters with women. It could take me hours to get it up again. With Red, it took a few seconds at best. I just kept sucking and swallowing. He was rock hard again in no time. His fingers left my pussy hole, the coolness of the room's air actually going up inside me, thrilling me and shaking me to my core. It made me realize that I was gaped open, my hole wide and ready. But I didn't have much time to appreciate it, or marvel at it. Red grabbed my body, and turned me onto my back. His wonderful cock left my mouth, and a pool of my own saliva leaked out of my lips, onto my cheeks. His massive frame settled between my legs, and I naturally just locked my ankles behind his back. His eyes were fierce, staring at me, with a hunger I recognized. I'd felt that way before too, I knew. I could see it in every pore on his face. He had one thing on his mind, and one thing only. The world could have just exploded into an all-out superpower nuclear confrontation, and it wouldn't have mattered. His house could have been burning down, or filled with rioters and looters, and they wouldn't have distracted him from his need. He needed to be inside a pussy. He needed to be inside me. Red placed his elbows beside my head, and leaned down on top of me, our bodies touching, my arms wrapping around his shoulders, the very tip of his cock insinuating itself into the rounded part of me around my pussy hole. He was holding himself off, I realized, from penetrating me right then and there. I shocked myself by realizing that I felt empty. I felt incomplete. I felt like I was missing something. His big thick fingers were no longer inside me, and I already missed them. His eyes bore into mine. Our faces were only an inch apart. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead. His massive weight settled on my torso. It felt like the most wonderful blanket covering me, making me warm and comfortable. I pushed my bum out a little, to try and get him started inside me. He felt my movements, and backed off slightly, teasing me. I gave him a look. He smiled, proud of himself. "Please?" I whispered. He laughed. "Please what?" I knew he wanted me to say it. "Please make love to me, Jamie," I responded. Moving himself ever so slightly, he increased the amount of touching the tip of cock head was doing to my hole. But he didn't push himself inside me. "Is this what you want, Veronica?" One gentle movement more, and he began to open me up with his cock. But it was a tease, and after only maybe a centimetre of pressure inside me, he backed off again. I moaned out my disappointment. "YES!!!" I almost cried. "You want my cock?" he asked, teasing me again. I gave him another look, the one that women give to men when they're being annoying, and tried to move my ass towards him again, trying to capture his cock inside my hole, trying desperately to get him to pierce me, to open me up fully, to feel the weight and depth and breadth of him inside me. "Jamie Morrison," I breathed out, my hands moving to either side of his face, making him see my determination, "if you don't make love to me right this second I'll never ever ever forgive you!" His laugh was infectious. It was completely from his soul. It was one of pleasure and joy. He was having the time of his life, and wanted me to know it. Then for a second his face got serious. I thought something might be wrong. The next second, he pushed himself into me. A long slow agonizingly beautiful motion, his cock, shiny wet with all my saliva, began its journey inside my body, pushing me open in ways I'd never felt before, expanding my guts slowly to accommodate his size and girth, reshaping me. Remaking me. I was his woman now. My eyes shot open, probably wider than they'd ever been, from the shock of it all. If he'd had any concerns about stepping too far, he didn't show them. The very next thing I knew, his lips were on mine again, his tongue dipping into my mouth. I started sucking on it, without thinking about it, my nature seeming to be one of oral pleasure. I'd never enjoyed anything more than sucking his cock. I couldn't have imagined anything being better than that. I was wrong. Having a man, my man, slowly slide his great big thick cock into my pussy hole, one shocking second after another, until finally his entire shaft was inside me, stretching me, was beyond anything I'd ever known before. The whole universe changed for me, at that moment. My entire life's paradigm was shattered, as I willingly and wantonly worked at him with the tendons and muscles of my body, trying desperately to get all of him inside me, all of his love filling me. His kiss became softer, and more romantic. He was loving me. I loved him right back. Then, after a minute or so of the softest most gentle kiss I'd ever known, he stopped it. Lifting his head slightly, his intense eyes zeroed in on mine. No words were necessary. We were existing in a silent agreement, he and I. We both wanted what was happening, we both needed it. We each knew that, and understood it. So we watched each other go through it, the joy he was feeling evident to me, the euphoria I was feeling plain to him. He silently nodded at me. I nodded right back. We were in agreement. Yes, we both wanted this. His cock began to slide out of me. When just the giant head of him was still inside me, he reversed his direction, and slid back into me, all the way, thudding against me with his groin. We both moaned. Our eyes never left each other. He stroked out and in again, this time a little faster. We both moaned again. A few more long slow motions, and we nodded at each other again. I was more than ready, and more than comfortable. So was he. "Now, my love," I whispered. He knew exactly what I meant. He started fucking me. His pace got faster and faster, his lunges became harder and harder, his cock seemed to get bigger and stronger inside me, my ass kept rising more and more, desperate to have him in me, all the way, fully, and completely. Then there was only joy. Two humans, locked together, physically joined, expressing their love in the highest of planes. The most intimate sharing of love possible. The holiest of holy. Above and beyond the consciousness of life, we were floating on that level of 'alive' that can only be accomplished through love-making. Red had the physical ability to move himself in ways I'd never imagined, and never practiced myself. His hips and lower body seemed to be like a wild animal, constantly moving, constantly changing direction and intensity. Constantly surprising me. Constantly transporting me beyond anything I'd ever felt before. "FUCK ME RED!" I screamed, over and over again. He did not disappoint. And perhaps it was because he'd just had a huge orgasm, cumming into my mouth and throat, my belly full of his seed, but he had enormous lasting power. He just kept fucking me and fucking me. We picked up the pace again, by mutual unspoken agreement. What I thought was the ultimate level and speed of fucking went by the wayside to a new level, a new 'personal best'. And then it went to new levels still. Soon enough, both of us were covered in sweat. I could feel it dripping off his head, onto mine. I tried to capture a drop of two, wanting to taste his salty tang. His hips just kept motoring. Faster and faster and faster and faster. His moans were preternatural. It was almost eerie, the sounds coming out of this man, as he took his pleasure from me, the pleasure that I was so happy to give to him, knowing that he was giving me an equal amount with every thrust, every lunge, every slick movement of his cock in my pussy. Then I realized I was matching those moans. I was maybe even out-doing him in the moan department. Finally, Red turned on the afterburners and became a pummelling machine, his cock pistoning in and out me as fast as he could go, and as deep as he could go. Every time he bottomed out in me the force was so great I involuntarily let out a shriek, a combination of moan and scream. He just kept fucking me, like a pneumatic pump, in and out and in and out and in and out of me, pounding me, taking me, owning me, using me, reshaping me, transporting me beyond reality. I started screaming out his name. "RED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" He got faster still, his entire weight falling on me with every fuck, pushing me into the mattress, my legs locked around his ass, pulling him, encouraging him, and letting him know I was his to do with as he wanted. My whole back arched, completely unbidden, and I realized that I was about to cum. I realized that I was about to explode, from the inside out, and while there was one or two brain cells in me that worried about the consequences, the rest of me just let go of everything and enjoyed the ride. The entire room went white, my vision completely destroyed by my own nervous system. I screamed, the loudest noise I'd ever made in my life. Red screamed. After that, I only had the presence of mind to hold onto him, as if my life depended on it. I lost all my sanity. I exploded. I felt his lips latch on to the skin on my neck, and his teeth taking a nip at me. All my insides quivered and shook. The world went black, and blank. I came back to some semblance of normalcy sometime later. I had no idea how long I'd been out. My entire body felt like I'd been through a hurricane. Every muscle was tired, and sore. My lungs were trying to capture oxygen, and I was heaving like I'd just finished a marathon. My arms were wrapped tighter than anything around my man. My legs were too. He had collapsed onto me, his face buried in my neck, his entire weight pressing down onto me. His cock, I realized, was fully imbedded in my ass. I could feel his cum, sloshing around inside me. I smiled with pride. I'D TAKEN HIM!!! I'D WORN HIM OUT!! I'D FUCKED HIM UNTIL HE COULDN'T FUCK ANYMORE! I let all the emotions and physical exhaustion overwhelm me. I passed out. As it happens, so did Red. We both awoke sometime later, wrapped around each other, neither of us wanting to let go. When I finally had some rationality left, I opened my eyes, and found his staring at me. "Hi," I whispered. "Hey," he whispered back. "That was," I searched for words, "that was..." He kissed me. Softly. "That was the best moment of my life," he whispered, after looking me in the eyes. "Ever." I nodded at him, letting him know I felt the same. He reached one of his long arms down and pulled the covers back over us, making a cocoon. His cock was still fully in my ass. Just before I fell asleep again, cradled in the arms of a man I realized I was falling in love with, he softly kissed me again. "Thank you," he said. "No, Jamie," I kissed him back, "thank you." He smiled, which warmed my heart and made me think that I'd like to see that smile all the time. "Are you moving into the house?" he asked. I nodded. "On one condition." His eyes showed a little concern. "Which is?" I kissed him again, softly. "I don't want any of those other bedrooms," I said, looking him in the eyes. "I want to sleep here, with you." He smiled, large and loud. "You got it, Squirt." The End.