4 comments/ 76072 views/ 25 favorites The Only Difference is the 'S'. By: Otazel I agreed to do the late shift because it suited me. My wife had run off with a neighbour, leaving me with a pile of bills to pay, and as a result all I was doing in the evenings was mooching about watching the television and seeing off cans of lager. So the chance to start work at four and finish at midnight for a twenty percent pay rise was welcome. And that was how I met Sam. It was only my second week of lates and I was driving home on a bitterly cold night when I saw a girl standing at a bus stop. She was young and thin, dressed only in the skimpiest of clothes and I could see that she was shaking with cold. I had no idea if there were any buses running at that time of night, but in any case I couldn't leave a damsel in distress, so I pulled over and offered her a lift. It turned out that she lived only a half mile further on than me, so running her home was hardly inconvenient and it was worth it if only because it made me feel like the white knight. She was so cold she could hardly fumble in her bag for a cigarette, but after a minute or two in the warmth of the car she began to relax and the shivering stopped. I looked sideways at her, appreciating what I saw. The first thing I noticed was that her makeup was a bit over the top for my taste, but I must admit that it was very skilfully applied, complete with a glitter eyeshadow that made her blue eyes seem even more alive. She tall for a girl, and very slim with hardly any boobs and long skinny legs -- certainly not the most feminine of women. But she also had one of those husky voices that ooze sex and make up for any physical shortcomings. Yes, she was attractive, and yes, I fancied screwing her. As she warmed up she told me that her name was Sam, that she worked in a bar and that she'd jumped out of the cab supplied by her employer because the driver wanted more than the usual tip. He had apparently wanted a blow job instead. "How do you know I won't?" I asked her, not completely sure myself if I was joking or fishing. "At least you're not seventy, fat and bald." She responded in that sexy voice of hers. That reply had definite possibilities, I thought. The rest of the journey was spent in innocent conversation. It turned out that she was nineteen, six years younger than me, had worked in that bar for about seven months, was unattached and lived alone, having fallen out with her parents who didn't like her lifestyle -- I didn't push her on that, it would become clear eventually - and wanted her own beauty salon someday. When we pulled in outside her place I did wonder if I might get asked in for a coffee, or something, but no such luck. As soon as the car had stopped she had the door open and was scrambling out, all the time thanking me profusely. Obviously I wasn't going to get an invite, but it was nice thought. What I did get was just as nice though, and less expected. Before closing the door and disappearing home, Sam leaned across and kissed me full on the lips. It wasn't a long kiss, maybe a second or so, and then the door slammed and she was gone. I sat there for a good five minutes trying to get my head around how good that kiss had made me feel, before driving home with Sam firmly in the forefront of my mind. She was on my mind for the rest of the night too, as a load of cum in a wad of tissues will testify. I expected that to be that, a one-off lift home for a waif who had strayed and who I wouldn't see again. In fact I almost hoped that would be the case, for I was unexpectedly and overwhelmingly attracted to this strange girl and I couldn't get her out of my mind. Why I should feel so turned on by a girl who looked more like a gangly youth than a sexy young lady I had no idea, I just knew that I did. I tried to push her out of my head, but it was a losing battle. But then, a few days later, just as I was making progress in forgetting her, I spotted her again, this time walking along the road in the direction of that same bus stop. I stood on the brakes and swerved into the kerb, almost oblivious to the horn that sounded from behind me and hardly hearing the language of the driver who nearly tail-ended me. "Want a lift?" I shouted. "No blow jobs involved!" She giggled throatily and climbed in. "Thank you." She said, as she fastened her seat belt around her narrow waist. "No problem." I told her. "I enjoy company when I'm driving." "Well, thanks again. But if you keep stopping for me, I'll end up owing you something." "I'm sure we can think of something if need be." She favoured me with a quick smile at that, but she didn't rise to the bait and we settled back into a nothing conversation. The journey ended outside her place, but this time she kissed me before opening the car door, and this time it was longer. Long enough, in fact for me put my hand around the back of her head and pull her closer. Long enough too, for her tongue to find its way between my lips and explore my mouth. But then, just as I thought things were making progress she broke free, slipped away from my restraining hand and was gone again. The next night she was at the bus stop again, and this time I had the distinct impression that she was waiting for me rather than a bus, at least I hoped so. We sat quiet this time, each I think, wondering what would happen tonight when we reached the end of the journey. I decided to give things a little push in the right direction, or the right direction as far as I was concerned, and so I placed my free hand on her bare thigh, just south of the hem on her short skirt. Her skin felt wonderfully smooth, still cool from the night air, but gorgeously silky and softly firm, if that makes sense. She made no complaint, but she did place her hand over the top of mine, as if to say 'that's fine but no further'. That was ok by me, at least she hadn't pulled it away, and we rode the rest of the way in silence with me soaking up the almost juvenile sensation of resting my hand on her leg. It wasn't until I needed two hands to bring the car to a stop outside her place that I moved my hand, and it was a journey that I thoroughly enjoyed. The kiss this time was longer still, and more passionate, right down to a little mewl of pleasure from Sam as my tongue invaded her mouth. But then, once again no invite and all of a sudden she was gone. The next night I didn't see her and I was scared, yes scared, that I'd frightened her into avoiding me by touching her leg. But I needn't have worried, for the night after she was there, apologising that she hadn't told me of her night off and explaining that she only worked four nights out of seven because she worked some weekend lunchtimes as well. I hated to admit how relieved I was, even to myself. This time as we drove to her home I deliberately kept my hand to myself, not wanting to give her the impression of being on the make all the time. She didn't comment and once again the conversation was inconsequential, with neither of us letting much slip in the way of personal information. But then the ordinariness of the ride changed the moment we stopped outside of her door. This goodnight kiss was unrestrained, full on sexual, and there was no mistaking the overtones from either side. That was the moment when we both knew that things were destined to go a lot further. "Wow." She said when we broke for breath. "That was some kiss." She paused for a second or two and then remarked, quite matter of factly. "You fancy me, don't you?" When I didn't reply she simply moved a hand that she had rested on my chest, and slid it down to my groin, finding and outlining the rock hard erection that I sported there. "I'll take that as a compliment." She smiled, "But I'm not really sure that I'm your sort of girl." She was gently stroking my cock through my jeans as she spoke, so I didn't argue with her in case she stopped. Then I felt that exquisite vibration that tells you that your zip is being gently undone. "Now I'm going to pay my bill for your time bringing me home each night." As she wriggled down in her seat and leaned further over I felt my cock spring free of my pants and into her hand. It felt good for it to be free with just the coolness of her fingers wrapped around it, and I kind of sat there waiting for what I hoped was coming next. After a few moments I looked down at the top of her head, realising then that she was simply gazing at my cock, not doing anything much except running her gentle fingertips up and down its length and gazing at it. I liked that, but I was hoping for more and trying very hard to stop myself from pushing her head down onto it. I could tell that for some reason she was fighting with herself, wanting to do it, but not sure if she should. I didn't know why so I just had to let her take things at her own pace, waiting with bated breath. She'd unzipped me with complete confidence, but now she was hesitating for some reason and I just had to hope. Eventually I felt a soft wet contact right on the tip, and I knew with absolute heart racing certainty that she had actually licked my cock, just touching it with her tongue. I could hardly believe my luck. Here was the girl I had fantasized about every night since meeting her and she was getting herself set to suck my cock. She was going to do it, I knew now that she was really going to do it. When her mouth finally closed over the head of my cock I was in heaven, my dream was coming true. All I needed now was for her to invite me in for coffee, so that we could get it together properly. God, how I longed to fuck Sam, and how I believed now that it was just a matter of time, so long as I didn't force the issue. Sam didn't deep throat me but she took me right into her mouth as far as she could, sliding herself up and down the shaft, running her tongue around the head, and gently wanking me with her hand at the same time. My God, she was good. It wasn't long before I could feel that wonderful tightness begin in my balls and that old familiar fire begin to burn inside me. I was gasping with pleasure by this time, not daring to do anything to Sam in case she stopped, but wanting desperately to pull up her top and run my hands over her skin. In the end I just sat there with my fists clenched into tight dutiful balls hovering over her back. She seemed to sense that I was getting close, because her hand speeded up, pulling at my shaft, and her tongue started to swirl around my tip, turning that oversensitive part of me into a point of pure ecstasy, so good that it hurt. I felt the pressure build and the heat in my balls reach melting point, I was going to cum any minute and I so wanted Sam to swallow it. "I'm going to cum." I warned her in a strained little voice, receiving a quick little squeeze on my shaft in acknowledgment. "You don't have to take me in your mouth." I told her, hoping against hope that she would, but feeling the need to let her opt out. She nodded slightly in answer and wanked my shaft even harder. I tried to hold back to give her the chance to break free, but she didn't want to and I couldn't postpone for long, and so with a long warning groan I let go and shot my load into her mouth. She never hesitated, sucking and wanking hard on my shaft as if to milk every last drop from me, while I tried not to push up into her throat or to grab her head and ram it right down onto me. The sensations she generated were amazing, every spurt was met by her mouth descending onto me, every time my hips juddered from pure pleasure she ran her tongue around my cock to heighten it. It was the best blow job I had ever received, except for one thing. The very minute I had finished ejaculating and she had swallowed everything I'd given, she pulled away, wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and scrambled out of the car without so much as a goodnight smile. It was as if the job was done, the bill was paid and that was that. Not the sort of thing to boost a man's ego. It was a good fifteen minutes before I could drive away. Apart from the fact that my legs were like jelly, my chest was heaving and my heart was going like the favourite in the two-thirty, my mind couldn't take in her behaviour. First she did want to blow me, then she hesitated, then she did it and did it so well that she'd obviously had practise, and then she raced off as if regretting ever doing anything. I was confused to say the least. In the end I drove home having made the positive decision that if she was at the bus stop again, then she'd really have to catch the bus. Of course I meant every word I'd said to myself, and of course the next night I pulled up alongside her and offered her a lift again. After all, I reasoned, I'd not had the chance to fuck her yet and I was sure it was on the cards. "Thank you for last night." I told her as soon as she was settled in her seat. "That's alright." She flashed me one of her smiles again. "I enjoyed doing it." There was silence for a mile or so, and then. "I hope I didn't leave to much lipstick on you." "No, hardly any." I lied. She'd left a bright smear on my jeans as well as smudges all up and down my cock. I felt sure she must have shares in a cosmetics company because she was never without heavy makeup. I assumed it was because she worked in a bar, but even so it sometimes seemed a bit much. I'd got used to tasting it when we kissed, and to washing my face when I got home, but it had been quite shock to see a red-ringed penis in my jeans. "You didn't need to do that, you know. I mean, I didn't give you a lift with that in mind." "You mean you don't want me to do it again?" She was teasing, and she got the answer she expected when I blushed scarlet and stammered my reply. "That's not what I meant. I want you to do it, but you don't have to. It's not the price of a lift, that's free. Anything we do afterwards is up to you. But I liked it and I wouldn't mind it again, or anything else you want to do." I was gabbling from embarrassment and I realised it when I saw her smiling broadly beside me. "Bitch." I told her. "Oh, yes, I am that." She answered bizarrely. I tried to regain the initiative by placing my hand on her thigh again as we drove along, but she put her own hand firmly over mine again with that same unmistakeable message. Never mind, it still felt nice to touch her leg. This time when we arrived at her place we kissed long and affectionately, our new intimacy reflected in the way we now cuddled as we kissed. But kiss was all that we did. This time there was no blow job on offer, and when I tried to slide my hand along her leg I was met with a definite blocking tactic, she simply grabbed my wrist and pulled me away. One step forward and two back, or so it seemed. That kind of set a pattern that lasted for several weeks. I would pick her up, there was no pretence of waiting for a bus anymore, we would drive to her place, park up, kiss and cuddle for a while, until I got hot and bothered, and then she'd be gone. It really would have been unbearably frustrating if it were not for the fact that every few nights she would grant me one of her superb blow jobs. Naturally, as a red blooded male in full working order, I tried to get whatever I could from her, but all my efforts were expertly and emphatically countered. She would let me stroke her back, and even occasionally her thighs, but if I ever tried to fondle her breasts or feel between her legs, then she would either turn away or block me in some other way. Never once did I manage to touch any part of her body that she didn't want me to. Nor did I ever get invited into her home or have an offer of a date accepted. It was, to put it mildly, a strange sort of relationship that we had going. You have to realise that I was besotted by her, perhaps not in love with her but certainly addicted, and prepared to put up with an awful lot just for her attentions. But then that all changed in one night, and all the missing pieces fell into place. It was what I had come to think of as a blow job night, but this time Sam wanted to take things just a little further. Later I wondered if she's been sounding me out, looking for a reaction, but at the time I was just pleased to take things one step further, even if it was an unfamiliar step. Sam had fished inside my jeans and found my cock, but then instead of coaxing it from hiding and out through my flies, she undid my belt, unfastened my jeans and started to wriggle them down a little as if to give herself more room to play. I obviously had no objection to that and lifted myself off the seat to let her do whatever she wanted, with the result that my jeans ended up around my ankles along with my underwear. I don't think she had originally intended to take it that far, because as far as I could tell, her plan was just to play with my balls as she sucked me and all she was trying for was enough slack to insert her hand, but pulling my jeans right out of the way obviously made that easier still. I didn't mind whatever her intention had been, because to have a girl's mouth around my cock and her cool gentle fingers cupped under my scrotum as she rolled my balls in the palm of her hand was heaven as far as I was concerned. She's clearly done that before, too, because she began stroking and fondling my balls in such a way as to have me climbing the wall, even without the feel of her tongue around my helmet. I opened my legs as far as I could to encourage her and then leaned back to enjoy it. But you know what it's like when something feels that good, it's impossible to stay still. I couldn't relax, I squirmed, moaned, wriggled and thrashed about as her fingers and mouth went to work on me. In the end I started to stroke the back of her head and her back, just to keep my hands occupied while she had me in that state of impossible arousal. That night she was wearing a short, rah-rah style skirt and a tee-shirt top, and I soon had my hand under her top and was stroking the skin of her back, cursing her bra strap as I did so and wondering if I dare undo it. In the end I decided not to jeopardise what she was doing and settled for stroking softly up and down the long length of her spine under her tee-shirt, starting at the nape of her neck and ending at, or just under, the waistband of her skirt. It wasn't long, of course, before I was burrowing under the back of her skirt, descending just a little further each time until I encountered, and infiltrated, the top of her panties. Maybe Sam was enjoying things too much to notice, or maybe she knew that she was too tall and the length of her back too long for me to reach very far under her skirt, but whatever the reason for once she raised no objection and I was soon exploring bits I'd never been allowed to before. Maybe I'd been too engrossed to notice things either, because I suddenly became aware that Sam's fingertip had strayed down from my scrotum, across my perineum and was now knocking gently on my back door, while all the time her mouth engulfed my cock and her palm kneaded my balls. It was a peculiar sensation to feel a woman's fingertip exploring my anus, wriggling gently as it tried to find the entrance, and if truth be told, it was an oddly erotic sensation as well. Erotic enough for me not to want to stop it and in fact I even tried to spread my legs a little further to show my assent. By now, of course, I'd got two of my fingers exploring the top of the cleft between her buttocks and so, by leaning a bit to one side, I found I was able to reach further down until my fingertip just, and I do mean just, found her own rosebud and I was also probing the tradesman's entrance. Now we were both probing each other's bottoms, with very little success it must be said, as neither of us had any lubricant, but it was nevertheless a novel and exciting activity. Once again and to my surprise she had raised no objection and I revelled in the new sensations of investigating her cleft. It did seem a bit strange that a woman who wouldn't let me feel her tits would let me prod her bum-hole, but who was I to argue. The Only Difference is the 'S'. Then I felt her fingers move away to rest briefly around the shaft of my cock as she took it deeper into her mouth for a couple of strokes, before returning to my arse. My immediate thought was that she needed to change the position of her mouth on my shaft, but then I felt the wetness of her fingertip slipping into my anus through the security of my sphincter, and then I realised that she had merely gone to collect saliva for use as a lubricant. I'd never had a finger in my rectum before, in fact I'd always considered my arse to be strictly no entry, but the feeling was extremely stimulating and highly erotic. The feel of her finger sliding in and out of my hole combined with her mouth pumping up and down my cock was having its effect, and that marvellous sensation of cum collecting like a geyser about to erupt was already starting. I hate to admit it, but I loved that finger in my arse. As you can imagine, it occurred to me to return the favour and to penetrate Sam's arse with my own finger, especially if I could time it so that my finger went in just as I shot my load into her mouth. I figured that would give her one hell of a kick, and me too for that matter, though it's probably not something I would have considered doing if I wasn't already high on sex. I tried to wiggle my finger into her sphincter, ready for a one push entry as I came, but her anus was dry and tight, and I couldn't get my finger to go in. Obviously I needed some lubrication, but saliva wasn't an option and whatever I used would have to be quick, because my climax was rapidly approaching and I'd soon miss my chance. Then I realised that my fingertip was less than an inch away from the best source of lubrication available, her pussy. All I had to do was stretch that little bit further, dip my finger into her vagina and then back into her rectum. Then she could feel the pleasure that her wriggling finger was giving me. Timing was now getting to be urgent, I was on the verge of cumming. It wouldn't take more than a couple more thrusts of her finger into my arse and another quick swirl of her tongue around my cock and I'd be filling her mouth with cum whether my finger was in her arse or not. I know this may sound silly, but penetrating her anus as I came had become a big deal for me. I'd never had my arse played with before and the stimulation it brought was overwhelming me, and I dearly wanted Sam to experience that same pleasure, even though in hindsight she'd probably already tried in numerous times before. I wriggled in my seat and stretched sideways, trying to reach under her panties and around past her arse to her pussy while at the same time trying desperately to hold back my climax. I managed to get maybe an inch past her anus, but I hadn't yet reached her pussy, then I stretched a little further, my cock twitching in readiness to explode, ands still I couldn't find that honeypot of hers. She rammed her finger deep into me, sucking hard on my cock at the same time, and that was it, I couldn't hold back any more and my spunk began to spurt into her mouth. Still trying to reach my goal and penetrate her before I'd finished, I lurched to the side, almost pushing her head away from my cock as I struggled to get my finger wet in her vagina. But even though this lurch gave me an extra inch or so of reach there was still no sign of her pussy, just the soft loose skin that lay between. Then the terrible truth dawned even as my cock spewed cum into her mouth, there shouldn't be loose skin between anus and vagina and the reason I couldn't find Sam's pussy was because she didn't have one. Sam was a man, and I was exploring the back of his scrotum. I went into a blue funk, a complete panic not knowing what to do. I still had his finger buried in my arse, and I was still spurting cum into his mouth. Nothing had actually changed from me unreservedly enjoying what was happening to now when I felt sick to my stomach; except that I now knew the girl I was with was in fact a male. I couldn't get my head around it. My body still said that it felt good, but my mind was in a turmoil and suffering from shock. In the end I pulled his hand away from my arse shuffled as far into the corner of my seat as I could and pushed him into the passenger seat, my cum still trickling from a fast disappearing erection. "You're a fucking man." I told him, as if he didn't know. "I wasn't sure, but I thought you realised." He replied, looking nearly as shocked at my actions as I was at my discovery. "Get out!" I shouted for him to go, and then watched in disgust and repugnance as he scrambled from the car and made a run for his door; tottering as only a man can on high heels. How had I never known? As soon as he was out of sight I opened my car door and emptied my stomach into the roadway. My mood on the drive back home alternated between bitter anger and deep self loathing, with a good dose of betrayal thrown into the mix. Why had he not made it clear? But then I could see all the clues had been there. The heavy makeup, the boyish build, the reluctance to let me touch him and his hesitation before touching me, all should have pointed me in the right direction. And at least he had had the decency to hesitate. I lay in bed that night trying to come to terms with what had happened and trying to make myself feel good about it. I didn't want to carry guilt for having enjoyed the touch of another man, even though I was unaware of the fact at the time. But nor could I deny that what Sam and I had done had felt really good, and even now my cock twitched in approval when I thought of his mouth gliding up and down its length. Round and round went my mind, always condemning him, but then seeing reason and forgiving him. I tried to make myself hate him, but I couldn't, nor could I hate myself for enjoying our times together. We had, after all only ever kissed and cuddled, apart from the oral sex that he was so damn good at. Could I cope with having kissed a man so passionately? Of course I could, a mouth is just a mouth after all, and a tongue is only a tongue, and it was nice to have another human being in my arms again. I was, I realised eventually, justifying my feelings and telling myself that I'd done nothing to be ashamed of, nothing that I couldn't look back on with a wry grin and a fond memory. I was also telling myself that it was alright to have kissed a man and to have enjoyed oral sex with him, and maybe I was also subconsciously preparing myself for the logical next step, that if it was alright in the past, then it would be alright in the future. I decided I would meet Sam again, but this time with no pretences. The next night there was no sign of Sam at the bus stop, and I fell back into a confusion of emotions. Should I let things lie as they were and remember a short interlude of intense, if mistaken, enjoyment, or should I seek him out, and if I sought him out, would it be just to apologise for my homophobia, or to take him back into my arms once more. Why couldn't life be simple? It was two nights after that when Sam next stood waiting for his bus, still dressed in skimpy female attire and still wearing a pound and a half of makeup. I pulled up alongside and opened the door, but he didn't get in. Instead he bent down and looked warily at me before asking. "You're not going to hurt me, are you?" I shook my head silently and motioned for him to get in. We sat in silence as we drove home, Sam casting quick nervous glances in my direction every time I moved to change gear or adjust the radio. I hadn't given any thought to how I was going to handle this, and the silence was wearing at my nerves. In the end I decided to chance my arm. I reached out and placed my hand gently on his bare thigh, as high up as his skirt would let me. He looked at me quickly in surprise and then fixed his eyes on the road ahead. But he didn't place a restraining hand over mine, in fact he slid down into his seat, revealing more bare thigh before slowly but deliberately letting his leg fall open towards me. For the rest of the journey I stroked his thigh, letting my hand wander along its full length, from knee to groin, stopping only when I felt the flimsy material of his panties brush against the side of my fingers. I made no attempt to touch him intimately even though the desire was there, and I'm sure he would have let me because all the time I stroked his thigh he made no objection, he just kept his legs wide apart in unspoken consent. By the time we pulled up outside his door we were both breathing just a little heavier, and I was sporting an erection. I wanted things to go further but wasn't sure now if I should take the initiative and kiss him or let him come to me as he had done at the start, but in the event neither course applied. "Would you like to come in?" He asked quietly, looking at me before adding. "It doesn't matter now that I'm sure you know what I am." "But I'm not sure what you are." I countered, telling the honest truth. "I don't know if you're transsexual, gay, or what. All I know is that someone I thought was an attractive girl turned out to be a man." My voice cracked slightly with the emotion of the statement. "Well, I guess that I'm a gay man who likes to live like a woman. But I'm happy being a full working order male with no wish to become a real woman, and so I'm a transvestite, but not a transsexual. I'm always going to be a man." I nodded in mute understanding. This was still the Sam that I'd grown fond of, that I wanted to have sex with, and that I enjoyed the feel of in my arms. Did the fact that 'she' had turned out to be 'he' make all that much difference? Should I no longer want him because his plumbing wasn't quite what I expected? I was still fighting the battle between my instincts and my upbringing. So far instincts were winning -- just. "Would you like to come in, no strings attached?" He repeated his offer. I followed him through his door like a lamb. A few minutes later and we were standing in his lounge, nursing mugs of strong black coffee and wondering where we should go from here. "I think I would like to know exactly what is under that get-up. Take off your clothes." It was said and meant as an instruction. I wasn't intending to be fooled again. Sam was right, he was a full working order male, although the thick eight inch erection he had looked out of place on his skinny, boyish frame. As he stripped he revealed a smooth, soft looking body, completely devoid of body hair apart from the little nest of brown fuzz from which his cock sprouted. He was pretty much as I had imagined, supple and unmanly with a tight little bottom and long slender legs. The only surprise was that when he removed his bra he was completely flat-chested, the bra, for all its diminutive size, was padded to suggest a feminine shape. I had thought he might have silicon implants to improve the deception. When he had finished he stood there naked, waiting for me to make the next move, but with his right hand instinctively onto holding his erection and moving in a vaguely sexual manner. I looked at him for a minute or so and then I began to undress. I wanted to see just how far I could let myself take things, and in any case Sam had seen my cock on a number of occasions, all of them pleasurable. We stood naked before each other, all pretence now cast aside. "Come here and kiss me." I told him. This was the moment as far as I was concerned. Either I would find the kiss of a man repulsive and nauseating, and that would be the end of things, or I would enjoy it as I had previously and so innocently, and we could take things from there. We came together standing naked in his lounge, our two bodies pressed close and our arms around each other in an unrestrained clinch. For a few seconds we just stood and looked at each other, and then our mouths met, cautiously at first but then more and more passionately until we were French-kissing as we used to in the car, the only difference being that skin to skin contact now extended the full length of our bodies. We had both gone into the clinch with solid erections, and now we could feel the two cocks touching each other and our bellies. It was an unfamiliar feeling to say the least, reminding me, as the supposedly straight guy, that I was in a homosexual embrace with a self confessed gay man. The trouble was that, far from putting me off, the fact excited me even more, letting me know that my body wanted more. "Can we go to your bedroom?" I asked him when we broke for air. "Yes, of course. What do you want to do?" He looked at me in part longing and part triumph. I didn't mind the triumph. "I don't know yet. Let's just see what happens." "Yes, of course." He repeated. He turned and led me by the hand through into his bedroom where he stood waiting to see what I was going to do. For some reason I found his holding my hand to be very touching and not at all effeminate. I was the inexperienced partner in this relationship, and so I gently disengaged my hand and went to lie on the bed, lying flat out with my legs a little way apart. "Come to me. Touch me. Make things happen." I told him. "How far should I go?" How the hell did I know? I was new to all this, and in any case I still wasn't sure what my morals could deal with. "Until I say stop." That seemed to be the easiest and most truthful way to answer. After all, this was something I'd never expected to happen to me and I was still trying to come to terms with it. I lay looking up at Sam. I gazed at his face, the femininity of his make up not looking at all out of place above his smooth womanly body, with its long slim legs, slender arms, and soft willowy torso. It was this very girly look that he had that allowed me to contemplate what we were about to do. In fact the only hard thing about him right then was his cock, a contrast that added to my excitement. He came and climbed on the bed beside me, lying on his side so that he could look down at me, but then after a moment or two rolling on top of me with his mouth seeking mine once more. We kissed long and hard again, not holding back, letting tongues do what they wanted, keeping our mouths locked together while we held each other tight. We ran our hand over each other's bare skin, touching and exploring. Then I felt his hand work its way south, just like mine had done many times with a woman, creeping slowly closer and closer to my crotch. He was a little bit hesitant, letting me know what he intended and waiting for my reaction before going further. I wanted his touch and the dithering was driving me mad. "Do it. Whatever you want, do it." I let him know how I felt. His hand now slid down, slowly still, but this time with confidence until finally he reached my cock and wrapped his fingers around my shaft, slowly stroking it up and down. I groaned with pleasure and kissed him again before opening my legs in silent temptation. He seemed to know just what I wanted, for he moved down to cup my balls again as he had before, rolling them between his fingers and very softly stroking my perineum with the tip of his fingernail. It felt so damn good that I spread myself even further, raising my knees to allow him full access wherever he wanted to go. He took the hint and a moment later his fingertip was once again probing my sphincter, pretending to enter and then withdrawing. I felt as if I'd reached another level of pleasure, the exquisitely erotic sensation of having my anus probed combining with the knowledge that this was not allowed, and that I shouldn't be letting a man, no matter how feminine, do this to me. But I didn't care, I loved it. I wasn't the only one turned on by this activity, I could feel Sam's cock twitching as it lay on my hip, demanding some kind of attention if only I had the nerve to give it. All these weeks, I realised, Sam had given me pleasure with his hand and mouth, and never once had he been able to let me reciprocate, even if I had wanted to. I understood then just how frustrating it must have been. Now I did want to, I knew that before this night was over I would make him cum, if only as reward for all the times he had done so for me. My only concern was how and when. I didn't think I could suck him off, at least not this time, so it would probably have to be a standard wank, though right now I just wanted to let him play with me. Suddenly, without warning, Sam leaned away from me, rolling onto his back and looking the other way. I thought for a moment that he had read my thoughts and done it deliberately to give me the chance to feel him, to play with his cock, and so I reached out, incredibly conscious of wrapping my hand around another man's shaft for the very first time. Sam gave a little 'mmm' of pleasure as I touched him and rested on his back, letting me have my way. It was strange and exciting feeling to have the hard shaft of another man's cock under my fingertips. I'd touched my own erect cock thousands of times, but then every time I was conscious of the sensation in my cock rather than the sensation in my fingers. This time there was no cock sensation to cover up how it felt to my hand, and it felt good. Sam's cock was quite large for such a skinny guy, and I could feel it, hot, smooth and hard in my hand. Somehow it also gave the impression of having a life of its own, I could feel little pulses and jerks from it, as I explored its length and ran my fingertips over its head. Sam grunted again, but I'm not sure who was getting the most pleasure, him or me. "That's good." He smiled at me, triggering a wave of satisfaction that I'd got it right first go. "But just wait a sec'" He looked apologetic for stopping me. Letting me touch him had not been his original purpose in rolling away from me, and now he leaned out and pulled open a drawer in his bedside cabinet. He scrabbled inside, obviously seeking out his target without pulling everything else into view but succeeding only in perking my curiosity, and then turned back to me with a little pot in his hand a smile of success on his face. "We might need this." He showed it to as he unscrewed the top of the lube and placed it on the bed beside us. There is only one purpose served by lube for two men in bed together as far as I was aware, and as realisation flashed through my mind I felt my heart jolt in my chest. Things were moving a bit fast for my liking and I was far from certain that I was ready for that step. I must have looked really anxious because Sam suddenly grinned at me. "Don't worry; it's just there if we do happen to want it." I must have looked as relieved as I felt at his assurance, even though I wasn't sure I believed him. Because of the interruption we had ended up just lying side by side, but Sam rolled back to me intent on carrying on where he left off, and I wasn't going to argue, even though I was still eager to touch his cock some more. His lips fastened over mine once again, my arms went around his slender back and his long slim fingers cupped my balls again. All was right with the world for a second time. With my eyes closed with pleasure kissing Sam was just like kissing a woman. He had soft, smooth skin, no bristles that I could detect, and the slim lithe frame of a girl. The only way I knew his gender was from the lack of breasts cushioned on my chest and the presence of his cock pressing against my hip, and I was getting used to that. If I'd stopped to think about it at that point I might have been worried for my sexuality, but what the hell, I was enjoying things. Being naked with Sam was beginning to feel quite normal and appropriate. Sam's hand was exploring me further this time. He had left my balls to slide his palm down the inside of my thigh as far as he could reach, making me spread my legs a bit to accommodate him, then he crossed over and returned up the other leg, stroking my scrotum with his fingernails when he reached the top. He did this several times, each time gently encouraging me to open my legs and give him better contact with my balls. It felt wonderful especially as all the time I had his tongue in my mouth and his body gently rubbing itself against me. I didn't know where things were going, but it was getting highly erotic and very intense. The Only Difference is the 'S'. Then his hand moved to my lower belly, stroking me there, rubbing his fingers into my pubic thatch, catching my cock with his fingers but without deliberately touching it, and then running the flat of his palm over my shaft to press it against my own flesh. Then he was back to my scrotum, cupping it, stroking it, gently tugging at it before gently but firmly pushing his fingers lower onto my perineum once again. This time I didn't need any persuasion, I almost automatically spread my legs and raised my knees, telling him mutely to do what he wanted. His hand lifted for a minute and I felt him moving around, still with his mouth against my cheek and his breathing quick and heavy in my ears. I wondered what he was doing, but then I guessed just before a cold slippery fingertip touched my arse and confirmed my speculation. The coldness of the lube on my flesh was erotic in itself, and with Sam's fingertip massaging it around my anus I couldn't hold back a little moan of pure delight. I pulled my legs back a little further and waited for his invasion. Proper lube is so much better than saliva, and when he pushed forward with his finger this time it slid past my sphincter ring with no trouble at all, sliding all the way in a single push. I grunted with enjoyment, remembering at the back of my mind that this very act was something I would never have dreamed of allowing only a week before. Strange the effect of the right person in the right circumstances, isn't it? I lay there passively allowing him to thrust his finger in and out of my arse, my eyes closed and my mouth curved in a permanent smile of enjoyment. At first his movements were slow and gentle, as if making sure that it really was alright by me, but then as he became confident that I wanted it he started to push in harder and quicker, burying his finger full depth and wriggling it about inside my rectum. I felt that I could have let him use that finger on me forever, but he had more in mind. Seeing that I was comfortable and happy to have his finger buried inside me he took it one stage further, pulling almost out and then wriggling a second finger into me alongside the first. I was surprised how easily my sphincter managed to take the two without discomfort, it was stretched further but not anywhere close to its limit, and for the first time I began to understand how anal sex was possible. Somehow two fingers seem to have more than twice the effect of one, they can go in deeper and be much more versatile once inside, or that's how it seemed to me. I felt him wriggle them inside me alternately, open them up like a pair of scissors, and even bend one while keeping the other straight, while all the time thrusting in and out of me. The sensations were wonderful. I know that I had my eyes screwed shut and I was biting my lip, but that was with pleasure laced with nervousness at what he was doing to me rather than discomfort. I held him close and moaned in his ear, wanting him to continue and wondering, just wondering, what it would be like with three fingers. To my surprised disappointment, three fingers I was not about to experience, because after finger fucking me for several minutes with two he slowed down, stopped, and withdrew them. The he reached out, wiped his fingers on a tissue and propped himself on one elbow to gaze down at me, gasping from arousal and still lying with my legs held wide for him. "Nice?" He asked unnecessarily. "You'd better believe it." I panted. "Oh, I do." He told me, smiling knowingly. As I lay there getting my breath back I reached out and stroked his cheek, disregarding his gender for the moment and feeling surprisingly affectionate. He smiled and rubbed his face briefly against my hand, a tender moment that I will always remember. My position was not very comfortable and, as we seemed to have reached an interlude I lowered my legs and relaxed on the bed, looking at the girly man beside me and enjoying the sight of his body. I still couldn't get over how unmanly he was, and especially how graceful and feline he looked with his long, long legs and slender form. I couldn't have got into bed with a macho man, but Sam was soft and gentle and just right for me. He was watching me looking at him, but as soon as my eyes met his and I became aware of his scrutiny he smiled again and looked away, casting around for the jar of lube. It was still there on the bed beside him and he dipped in his two fingers, showing me the large blob of gel that he had scooped onto them. "Lie still." He instructed me. "You'll enjoy this." Right just then I was so horny I couldn't think of anything he could do to me that I wouldn't have enjoyed, and yes I do know what I'm saying, so I readily lay still and let him carry on. What he did was very simple, but damn nice. He just coated my cock from top to bottom with the lube and began to wank me. Now, I don't know if you've ever used oil or a lube or anything similar to wank with, but if you haven't then you should try it, and especially you should try it if you can get someone else to do the work while you just lay there and let them. It is fucking fabulous, take it from me. It did have one downside however. "The trouble with sex lube." Sam told me pensively. "Is that it tastes like shit, and so you'll have to make do without a blow job this time." "Keep doing that and I won't need one." I responded, as he ran slippery fingers up and down my length. He chuckled to himself and changed to using his whole hand wrapped around my cock, sliding his palm over the head of my cock at the top of each stroke. I closed my eyes and groaned, my muscles tensing with the pure ecstasy of a pleasure almost too good to endure. Sam wanked me like that until he had me teetering on the very edge of a climax and then, deliberately I think, he stopped and took his hand away. "I think it's my turn now, don't you." I couldn't argue with that. I still hadn't given him any pleasure and so he was well overdue, but it took me a minute or two to get my mind back into gear and agree. He rolled onto his back and pointedly passed me the jar of lube. I took the hint even though my mind was still reeling with the sudden frustration. I couldn't complain really, he'd given me pleasure and now I owed him, and anyway I was sure it would be my turn again soon. The lube had an odd silky texture, slippery without being wet, and a very, very pleasant feel. I dipped a large blob onto my two longest fingers and then stroked it gently onto his shaft. He flinched a little from the cold, but then groaned happily and let me massage it all over his cock. I'd not used lube before so I had no real idea how much would be needed, so to make sure I got another, smaller, blob and coated him liberally from tip to root. His cock glistened hard and dark headed in the light from the bedside lamps, shining with lube and visibly throbbing from arousal. Once again I was struck by the amazing sensation of touching another man's cock, the hard warmth, the softness of the skin compared with the rock hardness of the core, and the little pulses of independent life that it gave as blood pumped through it. I held it between my two forefingers and my thumb and stroked its length, squeezing gently to work the skin back and forth. Sam opened his eyes, looked at me and smiled, then sighed with satisfaction and closed his eyes once more. I lay beside him propped up on one elbow and wanked him slowly, taking my own pleasure from the look of enjoyment on his face as I got him slowly hotter and hotter. After a while I changed my grip, enfolding his cock within my fist so that I could wank him faster and squeeze him harder, a sibilant sigh telling me of his consent. It wasn't long before he started lifting his hips from the bed in short little thrusts, telling me that he was getting closer to cumming, and I wanked him faster, eager to see him shoot his load. I'd never seen a man cum, apart from myself, and I'd certainly never been the cause, and it was an exciting prospect. But Sam wanted other things first, and he stopped me before he reached his climax. "Play with my balls. Put some lube on them and play with my balls." He was nearly pleading, and I wanted to touch his sac anyway so I complied willingly. I couldn't see at first why he asked me to use the lube, it didn't seem needed, but it wasn't long before I understood, and I grinned quietly to myself when the penny dropped. Sam was rhythmically raising his pelvis from the bed, and had been almost since I'd started to play with him. I'd thought his movements were either in response to his own arousal, or a signal to me that I was doing it right, and this way well have been the case. But my hand cupping his scrotum while covered in lube soon slipped south as he moved and it wasn't long before his arse was also covered in lubricant, inviting penetration from a finger that was playing within a centimetre or so of his hole. Of course the inevitable very quickly happened. I felt the very tip of my finger lightly touch his rear entrance as he pushed up towards me, and I'll admit that I found the contact exciting because the only other time my finger had been there he was dry and impossible to enter and I knew at once that this time was different. I wanted to penetrate him as he had me, first with one finger and then two, but I hesitated to push straight inside in case I hurt him and so he encouraged me. "Do it, I want you to." I still hesitated, intent on penetrating but trying to be sure I wouldn't catch my nail on his sphincter in the process. "Come on, do it." By now my fingertip had wormed its way past his sphincter muscle and so I slid it securely home, pushing it into his rectum as far as I could reach. "Oh, yes, that's good, now finger-fuck me hard." It was so much easier to push my finger in and out of his arse now he was lubricated; and very enjoyable too. I was getting more and more excited. I don't mean I was getting more aroused as in closer to cumming; I was already throbbingly close to that. I mean excited as in feeling adrenalin from doing things that I shouldn't really be doing at all, let alone getting pleasure from. It was strange what a turn on I was finding playing with Sam's arse to be, and how eager I was to act on his request. I began thrusting my finger into him with a hard rapid rhythm that had him gasping and murmuring a string of almost inaudible 'yeses'. It was soon clear that Sam wanted more, he folded his legs back, grabbed hold behind his own knees and almost rolled himself into a ball in an effort to be easily available to me. I knew instinctively what he wanted, and what I wanted to do. Just like he had done with me I inserted another finger into him and wiggled the two in scissor movements while finger-fucking him. He groaned throatily and smiled his satisfaction as I returned to rhythmically pistoning my fingers in and out of him. I hadn't known until then how nice the inside of someone's rectum could feel. I'd sort of expected it to feel like the slimy 'yuk' feel of gutting a fish, but it's nothing like that, it's nice, warm, soft, velvety, smooth, better in some ways that a woman's vagina, or at least I thought so. I would have been quite happy to carry on fingering him all night --well maybe not 'all' night, except that he needed release more immediately than that. "Finish me off." He pleaded. I looked at him uncomprehendingly, wasn't that what I was trying to so? "I can't wait to cum. Wank me off, please wank me off." I didn't want to stop what I was doing, that was far too illicitly nice, but I suddenly wanted to see him cum as well. I paused for a moment, my fingers motionless in his arse, but then the answer came to me and I moved around to kneel between his opened legs. Now, by exchanging my right hand for my left I could insert two fingers into his bottom at the same time as using my slippery right hand to play with his cock. I soon got into a synchronous rhythm with my fingers moving in and out of his rectum at the same time as my hand slid up and down his shaft. It was a bit of a strain on my thigh muscles making sure I didn't topple forward, but the delight of doing those forbidden things to Sam, and seeing the bliss on his face made the discomfort well worth while. In any case, it wasn't long before he was squeezing his eyes shut and breathing in staccato little gasps. The end, as the saying goes, was nigh. "Oh yes!" He exclaimed suddenly, his eyes flying wide open as if in surprise. "I'm there!" His body jerked and shuddered and I literally watched his balls contract as he came and the first gout of cum exploded onto his stomach. That first was followed by seven or eight more, longs strings and blobs of his cream splashing all over his stomach and chest, one large glob actually landing on his chin. As his climax passed I knelt and watched with a terrific sense of achievement, my fingers still inside him and my hand, splattered with beads and dribbles of cum, still wrapped around his shaft. I was proud of what I'd done and the fact that I'd been able to repay at least some of the pleasure that Sam had given me over the preceding weeks. At last he was finished and he lowered his trembling legs to either side of my kneeling form and smiled up at me with his chest heaving far too much to speak. After a while he held his arms out to hold me and I let myself fall into his embrace, my fingers slipping finally from his bottom. He didn't have the breath to kiss me and so he just held me close so that I could feel the hot slippery stickiness of his cum compressed between us. We lay still until his breathing returned to normal and then he began to kiss me, little kisses at first, but then more and more intensely until we were wriggling and rubbing ourselves together passionately as our tongues delved into each others mouths. As we did this my own mouth came into contact with the blob of cum on his chin, and I experienced for the first time the beautiful taste of another man's semen. I don't know why, but I reacted instantly and powerfully to that accidental taste, my already erect cock twitching strongly on Sam's skin and my belly writhing urgently against his. I put my mouth back to his chin and licked up the remainder before returning to his mouth so that we could share. He groaned happily and ran his hands up and down my back, holding me clamped tight against his slippery skin. This was a night of new experiences for me. I'd never had any sexual contact with a member of my own sex before and my mind was in a whirl trying to keep up with all the things I had done or allowed to be done to me. I was overwhelmed with it all, excited and aroused beyond belief, pumped full of adrenalin from the newness of everything and wondering where this was all going to end. I'd placated my conscience by telling myself that this was a one off, an episode that I was experiencing just to see what it was like, before my relationship with the man I believed to be a woman came to an end. But as I lay on top of him squirming and kissing him so eagerly I couldn't help but wonder what lay ahead. As we moved against each other I could feel his lubricated cock sliding on mine, its semi flaccid length being pulled back and forth as I rubbed myself up and down his body until it started to show signs of coming back to life, filling out and expanding as it came erect. "My God." He whispered. "You're making me want some more." "It's my turn to cum this time." I reminded him, still savouring the feel of his cum on my skin against his chest. "I know, but who says we both can't have fun?" As he spoke her pulled me even tighter to him, opened his legs and began pushing up rhythmically with his pelvis. I shivered in delight at the thrill that gave me, feeling his rapidly hardening cock prodding at my stomach as he moved. Being slightly taller than Sam my own cock was now nudging not very comfortably at his pubic bone and I shifted slightly to allow it to move, my movement coinciding with an unusually vigorous thrust from Sam, pushing my cock down and onto his balls. "Oh yes." His voice was breathy and eager. "That feels good." I felt him reach around, bending his leg back out of the way so that he could reach the tip of my cock from below, fondling it and rubbing it onto his still slippery scrotum. It did feel good and I lifted slightly to give him more room to massage my tip up and down, rubbing it from the base of his cock to the very bottom of his sac. I knew he was enjoying that somewhat peculiar activity as much as I was from the rock hard response of his cock, so I let him carry on. "Just a second." He whispered and withdrew his hand and lowering his leg. I continued to rub myself against him, feeling the first signs of my nascent climax returning. Suddenly he raised both legs and wrapped them around me as would a woman, and I felt his hand return to smear more lubricant all over my cock before doing the same to his crotch. I could feel the back of his knuckles moving up and down as he coated himself liberally. I expected him now to massage his balls once more with my cock, but to my excited alarm he guided my tip instead until it was pressed right up against his anus. I suddenly saw what he intended and I felt my heart leap with both exhilaration and apprehension at the prospect. This was the ultimate homosexual activity and I was wanting desperately to do it. "Push." He told me. I pushed, not too hard and certainly not too quickly, but instead applying a continuous steady pressure against his sphincter. Sam was breathing heavily in my ear. "I've wanted this from you for ages." He murmured. He let go of my shaft, knowing now that it was on target and that I would take it the rest of the way myself, and clung to my back, his slim legs held right back to help me penetrate. I maintained the steady pressure, feeling his sphincter opening slowly, the sensation so intoxicating as to make me go even slower to prolong the feeling. But eventually his muscle was stretched far enough and my cock slipped into his tunnel, his ring now tight around my shaft. "That's it; now fuck me if you like." He was gasping the words into my ear and his fingers were gripping the flesh of my back he was so aroused. I was so excited at what I was doing that I couldn't even reply, couldn't tell him how completely I wanted to fuck him. I pushed myself in deep, burying my cock right up to its root in Sam's rectum, feeling the warmth, the smoothness and the tightness of a man's anus around my cock for the first time, something else to add to the mounting list of firsts that night. When I was in as far as I could get I lay motionless on top of him, just savouring the thrill for the moment. "Does it feel good?" He asked me softly, needing to know how I felt. "Incredibly." I told him. "It's bloody fantastic." "Are you glad we're together?" That question came a little shyly, as if he hardly dare ask. "Yes." It was a one word answer because I didn't have the vocabulary to tell him just how glad. He gave me a quick, affectionate squeeze as I answered and I felt him bodily relax. "Will you cum inside me?" He asked the question as I started to thrust slowly into his arse. I nodded mutely and he began to move against me, increasing my penetration and intensifying the sensation in my cock. Fucking a man face to face is not quite the same as fucking a woman that way. Because of the difference in anatomy the man being fucked has to roll himself back further, making his partner bend a little in the middle and so thrust downwards rather than just fore and aft. That might be just a little less comfortable, but I now found that it has the benefit of giving me far better control and far deeper penetration. I could bury myself completely inside him, and I did just that every time I pushed into him. The Only Difference is the 'S'. I suppose that up to this point I was still half telling myself that I was with a woman, after all he was still made up, although it was rather smeared, and his long slender legs gripped me just like woman's. His torso too felt soft and feminine beneath me, its slimness accounting for the lack of breasts cushioning our bodies. But now that I had entered him properly I abruptly realised that I didn't need that self delusion, the sop I was throwing to my heterosexuality. Instead I could accept that I was with a man and I was enjoying it, I didn't care about gender anymore, just about mutual pleasure and intimacy. The sex was wonderful, I increased the speed and power of my thrusts as I became more aroused and as I grew in confidence, until I was driving in and out of Sam's arse with all my power, squeezing the breath out of him with each plunge. All the time we were kissing, our mouths locked together as much as our thrashing bodies would allow, and all the time we were gasping little messages of support and encouragement to each other, telling each other how good it felt, how much we wanted it, how hard we should do it, and in a genuine commitment, how often we wanted it to happen again. I knew then that we would stay lovers, and that I actually wanted Sam to do the same to me. I had waited much of the evening to cum, and the climax that I could feel building inside me was growing more and more powerful long before it was ready for release. I could feel it increasing, feel the heat growing, the coordination going from my muscles, the delicious ache starting in my legs as I got closer and closer to cumming. I was gasping for breath, forcing myself to keep plunging into him, longing for release yet wanting to let it increase until I could almost squirt my whole being into Sam's arse. When it came my climax was massive. I drew back like the sea in a tidal wave only to slam myself down into him with all the force I could muster, flooding him with cum, sending spurt after spurt into him, the sensation in my cock so intense that I couldn't prevent myself from crying out, yelling obscenities that described how I felt and what I wanted to do, pulling back only to smash myself forward again and again, feeling the air being driven from Sam's folded body by the force of my thrusts. When it was done I just collapsed on top of him and lay wheezing and trembling in his arms. Eventually we disentangled ourselves and lay side by side without speaking, each of us lighting a much needed post-coital cigarette and thinking over what had happened. "I fancied you a great deal as a woman, but I didn't expect that I could fancy you as a man." I told him finally. He looked at me with a crooked grin on his face and replied. "The only real difference between a 'he' and a 'she' is the 's'."