Obligatory sex scene, or how to have sex like a girl even if you're not quite.

Chapter 6

We watched the videos, or rather Paul fast-forwarded through them so we saw "the good parts." They certainly seemed to do something for him; they mostly looked uncomfortable and/or embarrassing to me. I actually felt less like having sex afterwards but it was an education of sorts.

The one featuring a so-called she-male astonished me. She wasn't that pretty but she had big breasts, a womanly shape and feminine face with a small cock and no balls between her legs.

Paul explained. "She probably got herself castrated as a teenager. Keep her dick from getting too big. See, guys keep getting more manly, sometimes until their late twenties because of the testosterone. No testosterone, beard doesn't get thicker, voice doesn't get deeper, muscles don't get larger, etcetera. Add the female hormones and tits and ass grow, skin gets soft; if the bones haven't stopped growing maybe even the skeleton gets girly."

He looked at me. "You should have whacked them off when you were about eleven."

I don't think he expected me to burst out crying.

"Uh?" He apparently had no idea what to say. "Don't you want them off?" he finally asked after pulling me into a hug.

I hiccoughed. "Sure, b-but how was I supposed to d-do that at eleven? Oh, I wish I had."

"I was just kidding," he said. "But I can see, well, from your viewpoint, I mean, I'm sure that any girl who had balls would want them removed?"

I giggled into his chest. It wasn't what he said so much as the stammering around the subject. At least, I stopped crying. "I'm okay," I said.

"We'll get that taken care of for you as soon as we can," he promised. He kissed me on the forehead. "And get you on female hormones, too."

I looked up at him then raised myself up so I could kiss him. Things progressed from there and we weren't in any such uncomfortable spot as the hood of a car this time.

When I started to unzip his pants he said, "You don't have to."

I looked up at him, a little unsure.

"Oh, I want you to," he said. "But I'm not going to do it for you--I'm not gay."

"I don't think I am either," I said. "I wouldn't want you to...to treat me like a gay man."

"Okay," he said. He unbuttoned the top of his jeans. "It's just, I would go down on a girl who went down on me--but I can't do it for you. Sorry."

"It' s okay," I whispered. I slipped down to the floor, still dressed. "Tell me if I'm doing it right."

"Don't use your teeth and I can't see how it can be done wrong," he said.

I giggled. My hands shook as I pulled his stiff dick out of the folds of cloth. It seemed enormous, almost as thick as my wrists. I licked it experimentally and it quivered.

Paul grunted and a pearly drop of some liquid appeared on the spade-shaped head. I heard his lighter click and looked up. From somewhere he had produced a joint and lit it. He still lay back on the bed, sort of diagonally, with his legs partly spread and his pants and shorts down around his thighs.

He drew the spicy smoke into his lungs then asked in the tight voice that meant he was holding it in, "Wanna hit?"

"No," I said, a little annoyed that he was doing that then.

"Pot makes it last longer," he said. "For me." He exhaled right at me and the fumes stung my eyes a bit. I squeezed his dick with both hands in retaliation.

"Easy, easy," he said, sounding a little amused.

I licked the pearly drop off the head of his dick; it tasted salty with a hint of sweet musk. I was honestly suprised that it tasted so good; I'd been afraid it would remind me of the way piss smells. Paul quivered.

I kissed it, my lips lingering. I dragged my kiss around by moving my head, then worked my tongue in and out. I opened wide and fitted the whole head into my mouth. The soft, rubbery flesh felt like nothing else. I had a guy's cock in my mouth.

I worked the fingers of one hand up and down the shaft while I found his balls with the other one. I held them in my palm while I played my fingernails over his sack.

I sucked. I worked my tongue. I forced my head down until I almost gagged on his dick against the back of my throat. I took it all the way out and played with it in my hands while I took some deep breaths.

"Jesus," muttered Paul.

I put the head back in my mouth as far as I could, not gagging by force of will. I went up and down, in and out while holding and stroking his balls. Paul grabbed handfuls of mattress and moaned before exploding in my mouth. Some of it went straight down my throat and I did gag a little, I was so surprised.

Most of it spurted out around his cock, dripping down my cheeks and chin. I tried to catch some it in my hands and more of it on Paul's thigh. It tasted like salty, creamy, cheese with a chemical or fishy edge and I caught a whiff of garlic and wine. I pretended to like it, swallowing as much as I could and even licking it off his leg.

To be honest, it wasn't that bad and eating it really seemed to excite me. Paul sat up and handed me the box of tissues. I cleaned my face and hands and his leg and cock.

"Easy, easy," he said when I worked on him. But he smiled like the cat who'd just got a blowjob from the canary.

I felt like I'd been filled with some electric kind of love because, in that moment, I loved Paul. My panties felt tight and constricted, not painful though; I'd been worried about that. I wanted so badly for Paul to fuck me.

"Take off your skirt, blouse and hose," he ordered. I did so, making a bit of a show of it. I'd never felt so much like a real girl. He gave me more directions. "Turn around, pull that chair over to lean on; bend over, far as you can; pull down your panties and girdle a bit and spread your ass cheeks with your hands."

"I--," I was afraid.

"Shh, shh," he said. "I should gag and blindfold you. Next time; I think you're too scared right now. I'm just gonna put the butt plug in."

I did as I was told, keeping my eyes and mouth closed, imagining being gagged and blindfolded. My heart beat so loudly, I thought surely Paul could hear it too. He squeezed some lube into the crack of my ass, then used his finger and the buttplug to move it around, working it little by little into my asshole. I put one hand under my bra, and the gel padding, to play with my nipple, wishing it were even more sensitive.

"Relax, relax," he kept saying in a soothing voice. "There's my baby, my girl, lovely virgin, sweet piece of ass."

We both giggled and he slipped something into my asshole, either his finger or the butt plug but he took it out again quickly. I didn't know what to think of the sensation, as if something had come up and grabbed me from the inside. Before I could think about it, he slipped it in and out two more times, a little deeper each time. Then he plunged it in as far as it would go and I knew it must be the butt plug cause he had a hand on each cheek of my ass.

I squeezed my asshole muscles but the butt plug only went in a little deeper. Because of its shape, with a narrow neck, I couldn't force it out. It felt enormous but really, it must have been only the smallest one, no bigger than my own finger.

"Now don't you be pulling this out, unless I say you can, girl," Paul ordered. "You're going to be wearing one of these until you feel naked without something in your ass."

I shivered.

"Pull your panties and girdle up, make sure you're not going to get hurt 'cause I'm gonna give you a pony ride."

I had only a vague idea what he meant but I adjusted things so I hoped nothing would pinch. When I pulled the padded girdle back up; it pressed the butt plug even further into me. I heard someone breathing hard and realized it must be me.

"Turn out all the lights," Paul said. We'd left only the desk and bathroom lights on, now those went out, too. "Straddle my right leg, back to me," he said.

I did, he pulled me against him, covering my eyes with one hand and pressing on my abdomen with the other. I leaned back against his body. He began to flex his right foot while squeezing my tummy and pulling me against him, then releasing me to let me slide a little back and forth on his leg.

"Rock-a-bye, baby," he whispered in my ear then he began kissing my neck. "Squeeze your thighs, get into the rhythm."

I tried. The sensations threatened my sanity. Sometimes the pressure was back on the nearly flat head of the butt plug sticking out of my ass under the girdle, driving it in and out. Sometimes the pressure was further forward on my concealed genitals; sensations blurred and I couldn't really feel what was real and what was not. I imagined that I had a pussy and that Paul was fucking me from the rear.

Fast, then slow, slower then faster, Paul moved his hand from my eyes to my mouth to keep me from screaming. He seemed to have a knack to know when I was just about to come and he would slacken the pace or lift me off him for a moment.

He slowed almost to a stop, "How's it going, cherry girl?" he asked in my ear.

"Uh, huh," I said.

He started up again, faster and faster and somehow harder and harder. He had trouble keeping his fingers out of my mouth; I tried to bite him. I don't know what I did with my arms at the end but the climax roared through me in a rising crescendo like nothing I'd ever felt before.

While I hung there limp, draped over his chest and leg, he whispered to me again. "Go to sleep, sugar." He rolled us both into his bed, me between him and the wall, and I went to sleep immediately.