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I Said Part One I thought I could feel his uncoupling, his anger surfacing after a long still night of wondering, after a long drawn suffering to the dawn, his curtness abusive, his arrogance fraught. I look upon his stance, with him trying to stand tall, but yet quaint, and soft. I looked at his face and thought it full of hatred, somehow you could see that he was seeking revenge, yet his silence and smiles were unnerving. His false friendliness obvious to all, knowing that his acceptance would bring her home, though becoming my friend would be caught between self-deceit and sheer misery, difficult for all. I thought that I could hear him muttering under his breath about "That fucker slept with my wife, that prick." But I was so wrong. I left the party before dawn, with no surprises no confrontation just an unsettled feeling that in all probability only I felt. The husband was social to all, and to me, offering me food, drinks as if nothing had gone on before, as if the facts had been different and that I had not been fucking his wife. It was my first time at their home since being outed, being caught by her lose words to him, those words forming a confession of sorts. She had told me a week before that "he knew about us," and known for a while actually. Though in all the months that he had supposedly known he had never said anything, never acted differently other than being even more polite and kind to me then he had over the couple of years of my knowing of him. I had been in their company many times, before the affair, during the affair, and now in the shadow of the after, but the affair was by no means over. There was some acceptance, yet this first night experiencing one another I thought that I felt his hatred, or imagined worse. I guess I was wrong in so many ways. There was only smiles when he seen me greet her fondly with cuddles and a kiss to the cheek, only smiles when we sat by each other, ate next to each other at the table, laughed on the sofa. He was courteous but I thought it a pretence, his over enthusiastic efforts of seemly unburden by the news of him losing his wife to another man, smothering us with smiles, with helpfulness, with his ever eager need to be near me or next to me. He gave small talk that held little interest for me, seemingly dull and of no real significance. I could never really respond to his comments, his points of view to me they held nothing more than what his wife had already said, as it seemed he was in full agreeance with her on all subjects on all matters. He seemed at ease next to me on the sofa, his legs crossed, his faint scent floral and lively. I notice the small watch on his wrist, the bracelet on the other, his nails immaculate and sort of long for a man He was the perfect host, or more hostess I thought as he filled my glance with eagerness, fetched me food, listened to me intently and laughed at my jokes, all this under the shadow of an active affair of which he knew of. I would have been furious, I would have fought and kicked if someone were to take my wife or girlfriend away from me, luckily had had none, and yet here I was almost the guest of honour amongst unknown friends of my lover. They saw me to the door, they being my lover and her husband, him and her. He stood closely behind her, as she again embraced me and kissed my cheeks, I thought he stood there to ensure no escape of his wife into the night with her naughty lover, no secret kisses in the form of a good night. She looked back at him, and stepped away and let him to offer his hand, I must have held it awkwardly as his limp hand felt deformed in mine as I practically took his fingers which were warm and tiny to the other men's I had shaken in respect. I shock but he insisted on a cuddle, his long hair covering my face, the scents of hair products on my skin. As I cuddled him I realised how small and thin he was, he sweet he smelt, it affected me slightly. He walked away meekly to leave us alone, I thought that I could see the darkness of his scorn as she told him that she would follow him instantly, this a way of telling him to leave us alone, and as he turned to leave, she kissed me fully on the lips like as before. - I wanted to resolve the differences between us if there were any, so days later being out at the pub in a crowd that included us, that is him, me and his wife, I asked him to come outside for a chat, for a smoke, to allow me to understand if he was genuinely Ok with me. I whispered this in his ear, as the music of the band was erupting in the small and over filled bar. He had been relatively close to me all night, both of us involving ourselves in the various conversations, his wife sat the other end of the table, me unfortunately right next to me likely enemy. Though I could say that no malice was heard in his conversation which was most spoken into one another's ears as the music was somewhat bearing He walked in front of me, his skinny jeans to short, too tight, his shirt to white, to clean, to smooth. For me his hair too long, too curly, too scruffy. I was sure he dyed it black as the grey seemed to appear and fade over the time I had known him, maybe he permed it as the curls were refreshed I would say periodically of those months if not years. He took a cigarette that I offered allowed me to flick my lighter while he cupped his small womanly hands around mine to protect the flame. I noticed his nails were glossed over, shiny and again semi long. His eyes smiled at me as he inhaled, and blew smoke in a single stream downwards through pursed lips, he held his cigarette in an exaggerated way I would say like a movie queen. Now in looking at him since that party and how he had been with me I really thought I could see through his frail shadow of a man, in a new light of what could be some sort of femininity. I engaged him in conversation keeping away from the words about his wife, and sex, though he insisted on touching upon them in the simplest of terms, almost a gentle confrontation on his terms alone. "Can I ask you some questions?" he asked me. I of course nodded my reply without saying a word. "Why did you, I thought we were friends, I hated you for a long time, I could not stop thinking about this, about it." All this coming out in one breath, one joined up sentence of a continuous word. "About what?" I asked. "About us being together?" "Yes." "Look I'm sorry," I said. "It just happened, it was one thing that led to another, to another, to another and then we were in bed, and it was too late. There seem to be no thought or consideration but only the thoughts of lust and sex, only after the thoughts of some regret came after the milk had been spilt." "Milk," he said. "The only milk you spilt was your cum." He smiled as he said this as if teasing me. "Yes I did, but she is on the pill." "Fuck," he said. This "fuck" not said in anger, but with a half-smile, and moving as if squeezing his balls together in his already tight jeans, and as he did he turned away slightly covering his face with his long hair. There was silence, he would not turn to face me immediately, he seemed to be gazing into the far distance "Are you Ok?" I said. "Yes," he said as he turned toward me again, his face blushing red. "I'm OK, not shocked in any way, I knew she was like that wanting another man. Though I admit that it is also my fault as I have not been that hot with her, I have been denying her of her needs for sex, I am so low on fuel to meet her lust for cock." I was shocked at his openness. "I am right she loves men and she loves cock," he said. "I am to her a feminine man, maybe a mistake, but also something that fell into her hands giving her freedom that she needs." "Do you agree?" he said siding up to me with his arms folded, smiling, his perfume again filling my senses. "Yes she does," I said. "She loves what?" he said. "She loves cock," I half whispered, smiling, more teasing what I had begun to suspect was his fractured maleness "Fuck off," he said to me in a feminine manner that I had never imagined him capable of. "Stop it, you are driving me crazy, with all that talk" "What talk?" I said. "About your cock, that is all she ever talks about." "What?" I said. "She talks about my cock to you." "Yes," he said. "I know all of it, even that you came in her." "I did but she won't get pregnant." "How do you know?" he said jokingly frowning. "Because it's impossible," I said. "Because of the pill or because you came in her ass?" he said. "Don't be shy with me," he said. "I will know if you are lying." "Because I came in her ass, she asked for it," I said looking down. "Yes, I know," he said. "She also told me that, and how much she discovered the pleasure in it." "Fuck" he said again in that most feminine of tones. "What a bitch." "You and your wife talk about strange things," I said. "Yes, that's the way it is between us. Open and honest." "Do you tell her about yourself?" I said. "Yes," he said. "And she is very open and willing to give anything a go." "Like what?" I said. "Are you sure you want to hear?" he said. "Yes I'm sure," I said. "Like allowing me to taste my own cum from her finger after she has stuck them inside her, after we have had sex." "Wow, that is honest," I said. "Why are you telling me this?" "Because I hope it puts you off her." "I see," I said. "What else is there, prey tell me sweety." I said this teasingly knowing his confession made him sound a little kinky and gay of which I was becoming sure "She likes me eating her after I have cum in her. Which is a sort of punishment for me if I cum to quick. Which is almost all the time." "And do you like that?" I said. "Yes," he said. "I do. I got used to it and felt it necessary after she threatened to leave me if I did not do as I was told." "Leave you for who." "You of course." "So she makes you eat your cum from her fingers, makes you eat her out, clean her of out in order for you to keep her." "Yes." "Maybe you should leave her if you don't like it anymore." "That's just it though, I do like it. It gets kind of addictive as a sexual game." "So what else should I know." "She fingers my arse in response to me fingering her. She has pushed my own cum into my ass with her lubricated finger after we have had sex." "Oh wow, I did not expect that, anyway I thought you don't have sex very often." "We don't, but when we do I have to obey her or I will lose her to you." "This is madness," I said. "So you eat your own cum from her, and get fingered in order not to lose her, and she threatens you with this game in order for her to remain with you." "Yes," he said. "That is the game." "I guess you don't really know her really do you," he said. "It seems not," I said. "What else is there?" "I cum in her mouth and then we snowball." "Snowball?" I said. "Yes, she kisses me and we push my cum between our mouths." "Wow, this is getting so weird," I said. "And then she expects me to swallow." "And do you." "Yes." I thought for a moment of him cumin in her mouth and all the things he had said, surely this was his game to put me off her, but the inquisitive me wanted to play along some more. "Do you like swallowing?" I said. "Yes," he said. "I got used to the taste." "So you swallow your cum, eat your cum out of her, get fingered just to stop her leaving you for me." "Yes," he said. "That's the story." "Is the story finished?" "No," he said. "She also uses toys on herself and me." "Toys? I said. "Yes toys," he said. "You know dildos." "Dildos?" I said. "Yes," he said. "In all shapes and sizes." "In all shapes and sizes?" "Yes," he said. "I thought dildos only came in one shape," I said. "No," he said. "They come in the traditional hard plastic phallic shape, in rubber with ridges and veins, alien cocks, tentacles, and replicas of animal sexual organs." "And she services you with these?" "Yes," he said, looking at me straight in the eye, biting his lips as he placed his cigarette in the ashtray mounted on the wall. There was some more silence as we both looked around. I thought of what he had told me, and had only ever seen the hard plastic dildo, I had no idea that she had a full set. The sexual images played on my mind, but not in repulsive way but slightly erotic. This man, her husband was surely one hundred per cent gay or he was playing me along in strange game He stood there with me his arms folded, rubbing the top of his arms as if cold. "Are you cold?" I said. "Yes," he said. "Here," I said. "Why don't you take my jacket? I'm not that cold, or we could go back inside." "I don't want to go back inside, I am enjoying talking to you," he said. "So will you accept my offer of taking my jacket," I said. He placed the jacket over his shoulders, he looked pleased with himself as he cuddled himself within it. I had expected him to put my jacket on, not wear it as a woman would, but this just kept righting my thoughts that he was a fracture man of sorts, but how much I was sure I would find out and hopefully he would keeping telling me more. Though in honestly I had no idea why, this could be as I previously thought that he was trying to turn me away from my wife, making her out to be kinky, or him justifying why she had stayed, or getting me understand that he was gay "Is that better?" I said. "Yes, I feel a little warmer now, thanks," he said. "It's fine," I said. "It's the least I could do." He smiled. "So," I said. "Just to finish off our conversation, in understanding that you let her do all these things, just so that you could keep her. In that you do all these thing to stop her from leaving you, for me, and that you are willing to endure to win her over. That must be love." "Yes and no," he said. "Yes it is but also because she likes doing these things, and no it isn't really love, because she still has sex with you." "I'm sorry," I said. "Don't be sorry," he said. "I also get something out of all this as well." "What do you get out of it?" I said. "I get to do all the things that I have come to love." "Like what, like eating her out, tasting and swallowing my own cum, and get buggered up the arse with a dildo?" "Yes," he said. "But not just that." "What else can there be?" I said. "I have also tasted your cum," he said. "What?" I said with a shout and some shock. "You have tasted my cum, but how?" "When she comes home, she tells me what you have done, and lays there naked and open and insists that I eat her out, clean her of your sperm." "Bloody hell, wow" I said. "That's really a shock to me. How often does this happen." "Every time she comes home and doesn't stay over with you," he said. "So that about three or four times a week I think." I smiled a little. "So you know what my cum tastes like?" I said. "Yes," he said. "And how much you produce, which is a lot by my standards." "I am shocked honestly." He took another cigarette from my offered pack and again I flicked my lighter to life, with him cupping his hands over mine warmly and affectionately, looking at me in the eye as he pulled on his smoke. I mulled over the conversation which was becoming so ever strange yet so real the further it went ahead. "Don't go quite on me," he said as he stood close to me. "Please. I have been honest with you and it's not easy." "I know," I said. "But I guess I'm trying to take it all in, understand what the actual message is here." "Do you have a question for me?" he said. "Yes," I said. "I do, are you gay?" "Yes, I think so," he said. "How do you know?" "Well, I like the things she does to me, like the taste of your cum." "You like the taste of my cum?" "Yes," he said. "It tastes much better than my own." "Wow," I said. "I don't know what to say." "Should we go for a walk?" he said. "It's getting cold just standing here and I don't want to go back in as I am enjoying the conversation which is a kind of relief for me. I hope you don't mind, maybe we would warm up a bit of we move." "Ok," I said. "I don't mind the conversation at all, I'm happy you can somewhat share your secrets with me, but it was not what I would have expected." We walked together down the street towards the city centre. "Should you tell them that we have gone?" "No need," he said. "I already told her that I was going to talk to you tonight, so she will understand." "What did you tell her that you were going to tell me." "That I liked the taste of your cum," he said. I laughed slightly and smiled, looking at him as we walked together "And about the other things you told me as well," I said. "You told her you were going tell me." "Yes," he said. We walked a little closer, the cold biting into my shirt fabric goosing the skin. "Are you getting cold?" he said. "Yes," I said. "I am." "Shall we go for a drink together in that bar over there, it is always quite empty and is very cosy." "Yes," I said. We walked towards the bar. I could feel his arm next to mine rubbing against me as we walked so close "Do you like my jeans?" he said. "They're a little tight for me," I said. "Yes," he said. "That is because they are women's jeans." "Oh," I said. "You also like to wear women's clothes?" "Yes," he said. "I do, and these jeans look much better with my high heels." I did not say anything in response, but looked down at his white trainers that he wore with his skinny black jeans and imagined in my own mind the high heels instead. We stood at the bar, his stance had softened somehow, no longer in any way masculine but more insinuated submissive and gay. With his arms held folded, my jacket over his shoulders, one foot crossed in front of the other, he stood next to me at the bar looking at me as I ordered the drinks. In that look I could see me being right that he was indeed effeminate and wanting. We took a small table towards the front windows, which was full of condensation caused by the heat within. Between us was a small candle, I passed him his glass of white wine and placed my beer on the table. He crossed his legs as a woman would ,and held his glass with nimble fingers and limp wrist, one arm across his chest the other raised with the glass in his hand. He put the glass down and started into the drink, teasing the rim with his finger somewhat hypnotising. "Can I tell you something?" he said. "Yes," I said. "Of course, we have come this far in your confession, so why not more." "I was jealous of my wife," he said. "Why?" I said. "Why would you be jealous of her?" "When I thought of her with you I got kind of upset." "That's normal, I guess," I said. "When the wife is having sex with another man" "Yes," he said. "I know that, but it wasn't for the fact that she was having sex with somebody else, it was a fact that she was having sex with you." "I'm sorry," I said. "That must be difficult." "I don't think you understand," he said. "I wanted to be her, with you as my lover, not hers." "Oh shit," I said. "I guess I think I understand now what you are telling me." I looked around to see if anyone was watching us, but nobody was. I looked at him intently and could now without a doubt see the feminine side of him, what with his girlish clothes, the way he was sitting, the way he played with the glass, my jacket over his shoulders, his confession, his hair, his nails. I took a pull of my pint and placed it back on the table. "So you were jealous that it was me having sex with he?" I said. "Yes," he said. "So if it was somebody else you would not have been jealous?" "No," he said. "I never have been jealous over the others, only you." "Others?" I said. "Yes, there were others," he said. "Lots in fact." "So I wasn't the only one she was having sex with?" "No," he said. "You were not, she had at least another two or three one night stands, while you have been with her." "Bloody hell," I said. "I had no idea that she was such a slut." I stared into my pint for a minute pondering the facts at hand "Are you trying to put me off her?" I said. "Yes and no," he said. "No, because I don't want her lose you, or I won't get to see you. And yes, because I want to be the one that you are seeing and not her." "I don't understand," I said. "I told you liked the taste of your cum, if you split up then I won't get to taste it again will I." "You're kidding me right?" I said. "No," he said. "I am being more than honest. Call me kinky or whatever, but that is the truth." "More than honest?" I said. "I want to see you always," he said. "I really like you a lot." "What?" I said. "You like me like umm that." "Of course," he said. "Why else would I like tasting your cum, you have become addictive to me." We laughed "Look," he said. "I know my feelings, I have told you what has been going on with me and with her, what she has been doing to others besides you. I have told you I like you, I think you are a really handsome man, a good man, funny, serious and maybe just a little hot. "You dress smart, you are kind and most of all sexy. I know a lot as she has told me all about your body and your ability to make her cum." "I'm kind of confused," I said. "I never thought about these thing before between men, I mean me being the attraction of another man." "I don't consider myself a man," he said. "You don't?" I said. "No," he said. "I don't." "I spend most of my time at home dressed as a woman, and she likes it, encourages it in fact." I stared at him in some disbelief and maybe some confusion. "Don't go quite on me, you have no idea how hard this is for me," he said. "I thought you may end up hitting me when I told you these things" "No I will not punch you," I said. "I like you too, but I have never thought of it like that, if you know what I mean." He walked to the bathroom, and I could not help but look at his legs and arse as he walked away from me, and yes I confess that they were rather shapely like a woman's, that is his legs , his arse, the way he walked and smiled at me. I looked out though the steamy window onto the street and wondered about him licking away at her and eating my cum from her, and for the first time I got the inkling of an erection thinking about this strange man doing this strange thing to his wife. I watched him walk back, our eyes meeting, our lips smiling. I shuffled in my seat as to try and hide my erection "Seems like you have been thinking a lot," he said and opened his eyes wide looking upon the bulge in my pants. I laughed in confusion "So what do you wear around the house?" I asked after he had sat back down again, trying to take the focus away from my rock. "Well first I was only allowed to wear women's PJs around the house, this near bedtime and to bed of course, but as things got spicy almost immediately where I was allowed to wear a silk nightie and have a silk dressing gown as well." "How do mean spicy?" I said. "When I started tasting other men," he said. "Other men?" "Yes," he said. "You were not the first. I have tasted other men's cum from her as well." "My god, how many?" I said for some unknown reason. "I do not really know," he said. "Maybe twenty or more." "You have tasted twenty or more other men's s cum from your wife's sex?" "Mostly," he said. "Mostly?" I said. "Yes mostly, as one I got a lucky shoot as one man was around having dinner and she blew him and ran straight to me to share his load." "Share his load?" I said. "Yes she kissed mee and pushed his cum into my mouth." "And you swallowed?" I said. "Not straight away, she demanded that I keep it in my mouth for a few minutes before telling me to swallow." "My god," I said. "She is such a whore." "Yes but she is our whore," he said. Placing his hand on mine across the table, which I move mine under the table straight away. "Your whore because you are fucking her, and my whore because she gets off on my world that she has created," he said. "So you only wear women's clothes to bed?" "No," he said. "I'm wearing woman's clothes now, the jeans, the shirt, my panties." "You are wearing panties?" "Yes," he said. "Do you want to see them?" "No it's OK." I said. But he had already turned around slightly, pulled his shirt up and pushed the hem of the jeans down to show the laced edged white silk panties. "Do you like them?" he said. "You are teasing me," I said. "I will ignore it." We both laughed as I looked around to see if anyone was watching. "I also wear nail polish on my toes," he said. "I also shave my legs." With that he pulled up his jeans to show my his smooth and tanned legs. "I wear woman perfume, make-up." "Make-up?" I said. "Yes it is light make-up tonight, but you should see me when I dress." "I'm sure you look very nice," I said politely trying to slow the conversation down. "I have a bra on as well, but it's a sports bar, do you want to see?" he said. "No don't show me that now," I said. "Maybe later then," he said. We laughed together again. I was playing with the beer mat looking across at him drinking his wine, he certainly had a beautiful face for a man, his eyebrows quite thin and neat, no facial hair that I could detect, his lips full and womanly, his nose petite. "Are you happy?" I said. "Yes I am sometimes, but wish I could be free." "Be free?" I said. "Yes be free, to live as woman, to be how I feel." "And how do you feel?" I said. "Feminine," he said. "So it makes you happy?" "Yes," he said. "And you make me feel happy." "Oh, thanks," I said smiling. "Nice compliment." "Should we go out and smoke and then have another drink?" "OK," I said. "But it is raining now." I took an umbrella from the bar, and held the door open or him, releasing the umbrella as we walked into the light rain. I held the umbrella over him, me feeling the cold as he still had my jacket over his shoulders. I reached towards him and took the pack out of my jacket pocket that he had over him, and offered one to him. He took one and pulled one out for me placing into my mouth as my other arm was holding the umbrella. I placed the pack back inside my jacket pockets, which he seemed to like a lot, and checked my jeans pocket for my lighter. It was not easy as it was in my left pocket so I tried to place my right hand into my left pocket to get the lighter but struggled. "Let me do that for you," he said. And as I held the umbrella, and he placed his small hand into my pocket and fished around for the lighter. I felt his fingers touch upon my leg. "Nice," he said. "Solid." "Come on," I said jokingly. "Stop fooling, I need a smoke." I could feel his hand lingering slowly finding the lighter. He pulled it out and flicked it to life, lighting up both of us. "Should I put it back in?" he said. I thought about it and nodded yes. His hand rubbed my leg from inside my pocket, his finger nails teasing, I could feel that tingle again of a coming erection. "That's OK, enough," I said. "Thanks for putting it back." We stood close together smoking under the umbrella our faces almost touching sheltering from the now heavy rain. His arms was against mine, his legs against mine, I could feel the heat of my cock bulging at this strange but somehow quality contact with a gay man. He placed his hand in my arm as we stood there, rubbed it slightly. I wondered if anyone could see us, but I guessed not as we were the only ones foolish enough to be out. I looked at him as I had never looked at him before, wondering what other secret lay beneath this feminine man, his eyes were so blue, much more beautiful than my own, his gaze was intensive and suggested something more. He smiled at me as we finished off out smokes and threw them to the flooded gutter. We scrambled in like lovers, close together and giggling, relishing the warmth I went to the bar to order a round more, looking back at him, as the landlady set up the drinks. He was playing with his hair, looking at his reflection in the window , tidying his shirt, putting my jacket over the back of the chair. He walked over to the bar and asked the landlady for blanket to warm himself up, she handed him a pink one. He stood with me waiting for the drinks as we looked at each other some more, our eyes and smiles inviting. "Go and sit by the radiator love," said the landlady to him. "Ok I will," he said, wrapping the blanket around him. He walked over to the chairs and pulled them to the radiator, repositioning my jacket so it would dry properly. I brought the drinks over and sat next to him, our chairs facing the wall as we warmed from the blaring heat of the radiator. It felt strange sitting so close to him, our legs touching as never before. "I'm really glad we talked tonight," he said. "Yes," I said. "It seems I have learnt a lot about you." "Yes," he said. "But I guess there is more." "More?" I said. "Yes more," he said as he placed his hands on the radiator. "Are your hands cold?" I said. "Yes," he said. "They are freezing cold." "Here feel them," he said. I took his hands in mine to feel the cold. "Will you warm them for me?" he said. I did not say no, but rubbed them gently one at a time between my hands, eventually holding them both as we spoke some more. "I also dress in woman clothes around the house now, but first of all I was only allowed to dress in women's clothes to go grocery shopping with her, so she would let me wear her trousers, and tops to the store which is just out of town. Gradually she would let me wear make-up and shoes. I was also allowed to grow my hair out as you can see." "So you go shopping dressed as a woman?" I said. "Yes," he said. "I do, also now I go to the city with her on a Saturday to shop for clothes, have lunch. Up until a couple of months ago it was just as usual wearing her trousers and shirts." "And now?" I said. "Now I have progressed, winning favours for being a good girl, being allowed to wear dresses and skirts, no one tuns to look a second time so I think it's OK to say that I do look like a woman." "I am so shocked to listen to you, but I am also intrigued by your story," I said, as I looked at him. "How were you a good girl for her?" I said. "To win these privileges." "I listened to her commands," he said. "What commands?" I said. "Like making breakfast for her every day, like making dinner every day for her, so I can cook quite well. I clean the house twice a week, do the laundry and ironing, the grocery shopping alone, do the admin at home and the maintain the flower beds." "That's a lot," I said. "So you would make a good wife?" I said jokingly. "Yes" he said, squeezing my hands lightly of which I forgot I was holding. "Is that all the things you had to do to be a good girl?" I said smiling, needing to know more, hoping for some more details of this strange life. "No," he said. "I have had to read women's books and magazines, watch women's TV programs with her, take up sewing, dress making, knitting. I have had to have certain things done to my body to satisfy her needs, that is thing over and above the make-up and clothes." "What other things have you done to your body?" I asked. "I have pierced my belly button, had tattoo on my back." "On your back?" I said. "Big or small?" "Small," he said. "A tramp-stamp." "A tramp- stamp?" "Yes," he said. "That spells out the word SLUT." "SLUT?" I said. "Yes SLUT," he said. "Are you?" I said. "Maybe," he said and laughed into his hand. "Recently she has started me on hormones." "Hormones?" I said. "Yes, I hope they work so I can feel better than before." "Better than before?" "Yes," he said. "I want breasts, I want my hips, I want my everything about me to become girl." "That is a really a big commitment," I said. "But I understand your needs." "You understand?" she said, squeezing my hands with his again which I was still holding. "That is so nice, thank you," he said. I smiled. "There is only one thing missing that I need I achieve in order to be allowed to continue to have my hormones," he said. "Another task from her?" I said. "Yes," he said. "Another task that I have to achieve." "Whatever can be left?" "Oh there is plenty left for her," he said. "What can that be?" I said. "I have to have a permanent lover, a man in my life, somebody who will make love to me, let me taste him, then she will release the hormones to me." "She is a bitch," I said. "No, she is not, she is giving me opportunities and has brought me this far." I just looked at him my emotions mixed and wondering about his strange life and yet fully engaged to know so much more. "There is one tiny important detail to that task of which I must meet," he said. "What is that?" I said, looking at him in the eyes. "That man she said, has to be you." I laughed out loud. "That's not possible," I said giggling slightly. "Not possible?" he said. "Yes," I said. "I am not gay." "So can I ask you something?" he said. "Of course," I said. "Can I suck your cock?" he said. "Suck-my-cock?" I was shocked and said it slowly and precise "Yes suck your cock." He smiled at me as he said it, coming a little closer to my face, repositioning himself on the chair so his legs were now almost upon mine. I looked around to see if anyone was watching us, I could feel my cock rising again as he released his hands from mine and placed his hand on my thigh just below my raging storm. "I think you want to," he said. "I can't," I said. "Please," he said. "Just once, I have already tasted your cum so why not that gorgeous cock of yours." "Gorgeous?" I said. "Yes gorgeous, remember she has told me everything about you" His hand touch upon my thigh again feeling the shaft of my cock which was held firm by my jeans "Come on please." His nails lightly scratching along my cover shaft "I can't," I said. "Look," he said. "I know you would love it, and I know I am right." He got up from his seat, took something small out of his pocket "I'm going into the toilet to blow you," he said. "Wait a few minutes for me to ready myself and then come to see me. If you don't, then I will come back out and you can at least walk me home." He got up promptly, I watched him walk to the toilet, again looking his arse and legs, those jeans tight on his feminine shape and perfect arse. I sat there wondering what if where my cock was not really subsiding. There was truly something luring me, but I wasn't certain of my thoughts or potential actions to get up and walk or take the offer of a glorious blow job. I did not want to go, but the thought of a blow job was breaking me, the thoughts of his mouth, his lips, his hands. A blow job is a blow job, right. I answered no, then yes, then no again. In the end I was weak to my own needs my own reasons to want to see what this was like, and got up and tried to walk casually to the toilet with a raging hard on. The single cubicle door was closed but not locked as I pushed the door slightly. He was sitting on the toilet wearing a bright red lipstick. I was taken aback by this unusual sight, both repulsed on one hand but yet excited on the other. "Come in," he whispered. I hesitated. "Come in quick," he said. "Before somebody comes." I stepped into the small cubicle and closed the door and push the bolt. He placed his hands on my hips and pulled me towards him. He rubbed my cock through my jeans at first and then his fingers took hold on my zip and pulled it down pushing his finger into the opening to touch upon my cock. Slowly he unbuckled my belt, undid the button and teasingly pulled my jeans down, taking at the same time the boxer shorts, allowing my cock to spring free in front of his face. "Wow," he whispered. "She was right." He placed his hand around my shaft pulled my foreskin back and lent forward and kissed the tip, he pulled my cock upwards and licked at my balls. Pulling back again on the foreskin he took it into his mouth and sucked with a touch that I had never experienced before. He pushed the whole of my cock into his mouth held it there, and then came back to concentrate on my cock head, repeating this in various forms to my great delight. I don't think we were too long before I could feel the build-up my need to cum, the feel of his warm mouth, his lips his hand, his gentle sucking pushed me closer to the edge. I told him in whispers that I was going to cum but he did not stop or pull away and very soon I was shooting a load into his mouth. He did not stop, his lips were expert on my shaft, his tongue relentless to my end and his sucking delightful of my needs. He was almost on his knees when I shoot my load , he held on with his lips and my cock pulsed into his warm waiting mouth. He swallowed I rushed out of the cubicle within minutes of coming, not knowing what to say or do, I said nothing and did nothing but leave, careful to ensure that we were still alone in the toilet. I went back to the table probably flushed as it felt so. I sat at the table trying to calm down the confusion that bled in my mind, repulsion, elation. I took my drink and sipped on it, the daylight seeming brighter, the sounds louder, the bar busier. I looked to the bar to the landlady who I think smiled knowing and winked as if in a hooray for me. He came out of the toilet about five minutes later, people watched him sit next to me, surely suspecting the absence of both of us. We again sat opposite to each other, the conversation now silent and just full of air, such awkwardness prevailed. The landlady approached us both sitting there silently, she had a try with drinks, delivering to us another round of drinks without us asking as if to keep us together. She touch upon his shoulder lovingly making conversation about the weather and complimenting on his hair, to made she smiled again and winked. Ten minutes later we took a cigarette as before, the rain heavier, the conversation of niceties and nothing more. I did not mention the blow job, but he had this continual grin as he texted on his phone. As we smoked in the fresh air it seemed my doubts were again flowing away, as I allowed him to get close to me again, his body pressed against mine as he showed me some pictures on his phone, jokes, aps, a picture of us of which I had said yes to while we smoked, his face so close to mine and that enormous grin and a subtle stain of red on his swollen lips. He sent to her almost immediately with a message that was something like, "Having swell time, just look at my smile." We took another round of drinks before it was time to go, but a second and third were poured over our conversation about his life as woman, and my life as his wife's lover, say whore. I think we were both pretty tipsy after the forth drink walking out side-by-side with my jacket over his shoulders, me lighting his cigarette, his hand cupping mine, us finding a corner to keep out of the wind. "Thank you," he said. "Don't say that," I said. "I feel kind of strange about it admittedly." "But you enjoyed it," he said. "Yes of course," I said. "It was a blow job." "Was it a good blow job?" he said. "Yes," I said. "It was one of the best," I said. We laughed together, me like a man, his like a girl. "I can't wait to tell her," he said. "You are going to tell her?" "Yes," he said. "But she won't believe you," I said. "She will if you confirm it," he said. "Or if she sees me doing it again with you." "Look," I said. "I'm only just getting over that horrible feeling of guilt of not living up to my manly conviction." "You are a man," he said. "And remember I am a woman." "You will soon see," he said, and we both laughed again, him nudging me teasingly. "I will see?" I said "Yes," he said. "You will see when I dress for you." "Dressed for me?" I said. "I have not yet agreed." He leant over and kissed me on the cheek. "What was that for?" I said. "Because you said yet." He tried to kiss me my cheek again but I turned and allowed him to kiss me on the lips, and that developed into a long kiss of tongue and eager lips. "That's enough," I said. "In case somebody sees me." I walked him home, it wasn't a long walk but stretched out over two hours, both a little more merry if not drunk. We kissed some more on the way, my inhibition dissolved by the alcohol. We held hands in the quite of the night, snogged in quite corners along the way, he constantly felt at my crotch of which had fully recovered again and was willingly hard for his touches. We were near the front door of their house, the one I had known so many times before, first as a friend, then a lover of his wife, and now a lover of her husband who was placing the key into the lock when I kissed him again. With the door now open, we standing in the porch embraced tightly in a long kiss, your tongues dancing his hand holding firm my hard cock. I kissed upon his neck as he freed my naked cock, wanking me in the shadows of the doorway, I sucked upon his sensitive skin bruising it with lust if not love. He stepped back out of my embrace and went to his knees on the tiled floor and expertly took my cock into his mouth and sucked upon me more ferociously than before. I was pushed into the wall by his enthusiasm, by his need to feed upon me, and I came like I never before, ropes of my seed shooting into his warm and willing mouth for the second time that night. No sooner as I had cum he disappeared through the porch door into the half-light of the hall. I caught the door as it closed and crept along the hall towards the living room were the door was ajar with a stripe of yellow light breaking through. I pushed gently at the door, and looked into the room to see them him heavily kissing his wife, my lover. I watched upon them in some fascination as I slowly entered the room, they both looking at me while they kissed, thus breaking free after a while with his wife walking towards me, opening her mouth to show me that my cum was now in her mouth. He walked over to me and placed his hands in mine, he looked tired and worn in the lamp light, but yet I would say beautiful. He smiled at me with the love bite on his neck, the moisture on the lips, of which again I went to kiss.