Let me tell you how my life turned around in every way imaginable. I'm no typical guy. Nowadays, most people wouldn't even think of me as a guy at first sight. Back then I wasn't much different, if not for traits that still made me look the part as some sort of boy.
The keyword is “boy”. When you're a twenty one years-old guy, usually more people start referring to you as a “man”. That was never the case for me. My whole life I've been called either of two things: boy or girl. I was never masculine enough to gain the title of “man”, I guess.
How bad was it? Well, really bad. A hormonal tragedy, in my opinion. Either my body doesn't produce enough androgens, or it's somehow resistant to it, I'm not sure. Even back then, slim as I was, you couldn't find a single fold of muscle on my pale white flesh. My nipples were puffy and stood proud, like A-cups, and my rear, petite as it was, carried a decent amount of cake to each cheek, perked up to mark every light fabric I wore.
Everyone commented on my thin fingers, how delicate they were, how frail they felt... but it wasn't only my fingers that were harmless and thin. What people didn't know was that the tool under my pants looked just as minuscule, not overcoming the five centimeter mark at full length, with two balls so tightly tied behind it that I sometimes wondered if I hadn't been castrated.
That's no problem, you say. Many men navigate life being slim, weak, and small-dicked. Difficulties arise, but they're still men in the end. However, for me it was different, as my face didn't help whatsoever. Sure, I had some of the sharp angles you'd expect from a boy, on the chin and the jaw, but it softened with mounds of fat on my cheeks, while the remaining features gave further mixed signals. Tight nostrils with a cute rounded nose, almond brown eyes too angelic and innocent, narrow pink lips lined like a cherry, and thick tapering eyebrows I had to meticulously pluck... it's no wonder I often got the unsure “you're a boy, right?” from new acquaintances.
My name is Jesse, by the way. My parents didn't help with that either. It's like I was born to be teased for failing completely at being people's idea of a man. You can imagine how it was like for me growing up.
First there was confusion. Guys made fun of me, but a few girls seemed to have a thing for me. In the other hand, guys made me feel excited, whereas girls made me feel fuzzy at best. Second there was a misguided reaction. I got into relationships with girls, as that was the only option that seemed natural to a “man” after all. Third there was realization. I wasn't capable of fully pleasing a woman, and wasn't fit for being a proper man.
From this arose the issue, and how I ended up the way I did at the age of twenty one. I had finished tech school and worked from an apartment I rented with my girlfriend, Kayla, a cute redhead who was yet in college. Being who I am, it was obvious that five centimeters of a mostly limp noodle wasn't enough to satisfy her, so we had to get creative.
As you know, people give different takes on “size isn't everything”. Kayla held that philosophy way back then, that size didn't matter, and that there were so many other ways to keep sex exciting as a couple that surely we'd be fine! When limpdick here failed to please her properly, we got imaginative with objects for starters. She had a small vibrator, so I also got her an average-sized dildo and a small buttplug. I didn't enjoy putting my mouth on a pussy, meaning I spent most of the time using toys on her while she pleasured me in some other way.
That worked well for a few months, but it's not true what people say. Size does matter.
Kayla got curious about bigger dildos. We got her weirdly shaped ones, thicker ones, longer ones, harder ones, veinier ones... each time she felt an alien kind of pleasure, some more intense than others. Getting comfortable with each other, we allowed pornography in the bedroom. Maybe that was my final mistake.
Hardcore pornography nowadays is full of the most virile, masculine, huge-dicked guys on Earth. I hated watching it at the time, but some websites got Kayla really into the mood, and she had harder orgasms to them. I'll say that the moment I noticed a pattern in her fantasies was when I became aware of how often we had started watching porn starring Black men. It didn't matter if they were with white girls, Kayla just wanted to see the Black guys fucking them, and those men had some obscene cocks, absolutely massive! I knew the average penis was way bigger than mine, but it was crazy to me that those of the Black actors were real.
It had gotten to a point that, whenever we had “sex time” at night and in the free weekends, we watched nothing but porn portraying huge-dicked, Black men. The dildos of choice were all dark and in line with what Kayla frequently saw on our laptop's screen, while her orgasms were at the sight of those women being obliterated in bed by the hunks. My orgasms? I'm not sure if at that point I came from watching Kayla experience what I could never give her, or from looking at those hot men myself.
What I can tell you, however, is that I started getting bored from our intimate time together. To spice my life back up, I picked a perversion in secret, and did what to me seemed like an obvious choice for a boy my type: crossdressing. I may say it's not in fact that simple; really, I wanted to fantasize how it felt to be the girls in the videos, produced into perfect beauty to then be degraded into a pleasured mess by big black cocks.
Kayla was significantly shorter than me, and in fear of ruining her underwear, I began by purchasing my first pair of panties. It all spiraled down from there, through using her make-up when she was away, following tutorials, then posting photos of myself with mouth and nose hidden on anonymous boards. The positive responses thrilled me, along the thought of men desiring me as they did actual women, and it reawakened a deep excitement I sorely missed.
My girlfriend failed to notice my disinterest, and I failed to notice hers. I told you size matters, and it's not the size of a dildo that fully sates a woman, but the size of a real, meaty shaft. While I stayed home to deliver a project, she cheated on me for the first time at a college party. Her partner in crime was a long-time crush of hers, a Black man called Travis.
Cheating is wrong, but when you're a sexually frustrated pretty girl like Kayla, ***** and having too much fun, there are few answers to when you find yourself in the arms of someone like Travis. He wasn't in college at all; he was just a friend of one of the girls who had organized the event. His thing was running a label for his friends' music and festivals, and it was no surprise he had contacts to get into most parties around town. Being tall, toned, and handsome as he was, it's also a no-brainer that he fucked many girls every week. I have come to terms with the possibility that Kayla had been only one of the women who slept with him that night.
Despite it all, my girlfriend has a decent sense of morality, and she felt guilty as soon as she sobered up. Although she couldn't deny herself the unbelievable experience that man gave her, she couldn't get herself to cheat again. In an attempt to find a way out, she had a conversation with me.
“I love you, but I need other men in bed,” was what she said. Perfectly understandable, I thought. I loved her and never felt sexually satisfied with her either. It's possible to love someone and not have all your needs met, isn't it? Besides, since seeing her masturbate was close to the full extent of our sex life then, the idea of her sleeping with masculine lovers made me feel excited about Kayla again... no, I mean excited about the guys she would sleep with, to be honest.
I decided to reveal dirty laundry of mine too, as in, all of the panties, bras, and pantyhoses I had purchased for myself. It wasn't as bad, though I felt that showing off to those strangers on the internet was some twisted form of cheating, and so I admitted that to her. Her reaction was also that of excitement.
You might not have heard this during your lifetime, but I've frequently gotten the same comment from my female friends as I heard from Kayla that day: “oh my God, I always wanted to put make-up on a guy!” I couldn't be weirded out by her fascination, since I had one of my own for dressing up girly and calling strangers “Daddy” online.
So there we went: I was excited to be a crossdressing cuckold, and my girlfriend was excited to crossdress me and cuckold me, a match made in heaven, some would argue. Somehow the table was still going to turn from this point, as unexpected as it may sound.
Half a year after we changed our relationship for the best, I no longer had any resistance to wearing my feminine clothes around the house, whether my girlfriend was home or not. The only exception was when she brought bulls to fuck her, more often Travis, where she told me to hide in the guest bedroom and sleep away from their eyes. Listening to the sounds of them moaning and dirty talking was enough of a push for me to orgasm during those nights, especially wearing the clothes I purchased, so that I could imagine myself in Kayla's place, possessed by those stallions.
Travis became so comfortable with our place that perhaps he misjudged his limits one day, the day when my life truly did a one-eighty turn. Not having any work for the week, I was in our bedroom listening to music and trying out new types of clothes, make-up, and a pink lace front wig.
I had gone all out with a pink blush to my nose and cheeks, some pearly gloss on my lips, and a cat-eye eyeliner. With that colorful wig, I sure looked like those typical e-girls, my slim body hugged by a short, white bodycon dress. I was barefoot still, as I was finishing the wings on the eyes, but my toenails were painted pink to match the shade of hair, as were my fingernails. Not even the tiniest bulges appeared on my crotch, and if I were seen, I knew how likely it was for me to be thought of as a girl.
How delightful it was that such a thing was about to happen! Although, when I heard the doorbell ringing and knocks at the front door, I panicked. How did the doorman allow someone past the gate without calling me first? I thought it must've been a lost guest, and so I ran from the bedroom and stared through the peephole. Raising more questions than answers, I saw Travis on the other side, dressed quite casually.
“Who's that?” I asked, my voice soft and child-like, enough to be thought of as a tomboy's. I knew him, but he probably had no idea someone else lived there with Kayla, with how she kept me tucked away in the guest bedroom.
“Huh...? Shit, isn't this Kayla's place?” His voice was much deeper and more rugged, and hearing him made butterflies fly in my tummy even through the door.
“Oh, yeah, yeah! Are you a friend of hers?” I won't lie that I made my tone sound as inoffensive and girly as I could without sounding forced.
“I'm Travis. She home?”
“Travis, right. She told me about you. Let me open the door,” I said and unlocked it, building up the courage to reveal myself to that stud. I pulled the door open with calm and opened my eyes to stare up and give him a brief, sweet smile, my minutely separated front teeth making me a sight even more nubile. He liked redheads, but maybe pink hair wasn't too far, I imagined. “She's in college right now, but you can wait here if you want.”
Travis frowned unbelievably at me. I was sure then that he had no doubts I was a cute girl, and this made my face burn! Either that, or his body was so confused it just defaulted to thinking of me as attractive regardless of my gender. “Uh, damn, you must be her roommate or whatever. Excuse me,” he babbled and came inside, so I shut and locked the door behind him. “You know when she coming back?”
“Usually today she comes back at the end of the afternoon or so. If you want to wait around, it's okay with us.”
“Alright, alright. What should I call you?”
“Oh, me...?” I thought a split second. My brain chose my own name, because it was androgynous and I didn't know how filled in Travis was on my existence. “I'm Jesse.”
“Jesse, right,” he turned halfway around to go to the living room, but stopped in thought, “wait a second, uhm...”
I lifted my eyebrows. This was getting awkward. “Yeah?”
“You're Jesse, as in...” He nodded his head and shrugged.
I filled my lungs with air and released it all at once. Kayla had told him about me after all. “As in, Kayla's boyfriend, yes,” I replied, giving in.
“What!” he spat out with a chuckle of disbelief, and I held my fingers together, close to my body. The dumb smile on my face was of shyness and slight amusement, if not some shame. “No fucking way, you dressed in her clothes and shit!”
“N-no, like... those are mine.”
He laughed louder now. “Damn... what the fuck! Alright, you got me there, bro. Fuck, you really looking like a girl. That your hair?”
“It's just a wig. I'm a brune-... I... have black hair, but it's not this long yet.”
“Unbelievable, bro. Nah, I can't believe you got me like this, this is fucking incredible,” he was still chuckling between his words.
“Sorry...?” I apologized with an embarrassed rising tone and a wince.
“Don't be sorry, you got me good! Hey, just to make sure, you do know I've been fucking your girl, right?” I subtly nodded when he asked that. “Alright, nice. So it's like a mutual thing, like the cuck thing.”
“Yeah, and this whole thing, it's...” I paused and looked down at myself, taking in the contrast of my feminine shape with his studly one. It was dumbfounding how good I had gotten at this, and how fit my body was for the job “... it started as a fantasy, but I guess it got too serious.”
“No shit, you a professional. Fuck, even the toenails and shit, look at that! I still can't believe it,” he continued with that impressed tone, then finally made his way to sit on the couch. Not knowing what to do, I followed him like a puppy.
I watched Travis take a seat and sigh. “Feel free to relax while she's not home. If you want something to drink, I can get you some cold beer. It's Kayla's, but she doesn't mind you having it,” I told him.
“Nah, I'm alright, Jesse,” he said my name with an emphasis, as if he mocked it lightly. I smiled, but before I thought of going back to my crossdressing duties, Travis pointed to a game console under the TV. “Yo, that Playstation yours?”
“Oh? Yeah, it is!”
“I knew it had to be,” he said, staring at the physical copies I had placed beside it, ”ain't no way your girl be playing like... Gran Turismo, God of War, fucking Street Fighter. You good at those?”
I lifted one eyebrow and pouted. It seemed I had found a way to get closer to that man, and I would not waste the opportunity. “I finished second place at a city tournament for Street Fighter 5 last year,” I claimed, and it's true, I swear.
He leaned forward, brow tightened in further disbelief. “You fucking with me.”
“I've got more than one game pad. Wanna try me?”
Following a swing of his hand, he slid to the back of the couch and challenged me: “Give me that fucking controller, let's see what you got.”
Finally, something I could beat a man at! I turned on the TV, hooked up the game and beat Travis' ass dozens of times on versus. He mostly used Blanka, but I used a diversity of characters just to keep him on his toes and show him I was, indeed, champion material. As nerdy as this was, I loved not being the defeated party for the first time in my life.
It was a strange sight for someone who knew the context, a girly white boy in a dress, make-up, and wig; by his side, a large and strong Black man with a buzzcut, beard, in a jersey and baggy shorts. What were we doing? Playing a fighting game together.
Travis complained many times about how he thought I was cheating, so I took the chance to sit with my legs much closer to his without touching, and gave him free sight of my fingers on the buttons. Like that, I beat him again, and he sighed in hopelessness.
“Damn! I thought you were kidding, but you for real,” he admitted and lazed back on the couch. “I still think I can beat you at least once though.”
I turned to him, legs tightly together so that he wouldn't catch a glimpse between my thighs, an instinct gained from mimicking women too long. “How can you be so sure?” I asked smugly.
“No one's impervious, bro, I'll get you, I know I can. Let me just rest my hands, alright?”
“With how much stronger your hands are, I should be the one resting, yet here we are...”
Travis placed his hands behind his head and tightened his face in humiliation. “Ah, god damn, I can't believe this cuck in a dress fucking laying me down to rest right now! No way, this gotta be a nightmare!” It was clear by his voice that he was joking, and so I giggled along, despite the reminder of our relationship so far being a subtle wake-up call for us both.
“So, ready to continue?”
“Alright, whatever, give me my punishment,” he said as we got into the next match. We weren't taking it too seriously anymore, so he chatted with eyes peeled on the screen. “Yo, Jesse, I always wondered something about this cuckold thing.”
“What's that?”
“The fuck makes you dudes want to get cheated on? You don't feel a little possessive or nothing?”
I raised my eyebrows and breathed out, losing focus on a combo for an instant. “I don't know the answer for everyone, but I know mine,” I explained. “When you can't please a girl in bed, you have to find alternative ways to do it, so you're more likely to have fantasies like that.”
“Oh, so it's 'cause you got a small dick?”
“In part, yeah, and I have ED, so it's a problem to keep it up.” Weird thing to be transparent about, but it's my girlfriend's bull, I had already tasted him off her kiss dozens of times. What was he going to do next, fuck me?
Travis couldn't grasp the concept yet. “Nah, but I know a dude who has the same issues, man, and he just takes a blue pill and learned a couple positions. He keeps his girl happy like that,” he said. Clearly he had not taken in the particular seriousness of my problem.
“My cock isn't just small, like... it's a microdick. It's really tiny.”
“How tiny we talking?”
I looked around for a moment and my character took a few spare hits on screen, which prompted me to pay attention to Travis' hands and predict his movements. Seeing the girth of his fingers, I found a quick and dirty comparison. “No joke, it's way smaller than your thumb,” I claimed.
He tightened the brow in response. “Alright, I ain't doubting you no more. That's an actual microdick, excuse me,” he finished with a chuckle.
We played a while longer, and because he had seen I messed up more when I lost focus, he decided to sabotage me right then and there. With how many matches he had lost, he just wanted to prove to me I wasn't impervious, as he said, so he crossed an arm over and shoved a hand onto some of my buttons, covering and grabbing the controller while he still attacked my character with the other hand. “What do you think you're doing?” I muttered, trying and failing to pull the game pad away; he was much stronger, and my thin fingers found no give between that rough skin.
“You got too close, I'm taking my chance!” he said, finally taking me down. From a lucky tie he got in my last distraction, his next victory meant he had taken an entire match as a first for him, and so he finally let go and pumped a fist with pride. “There you go! I told you you ain't impervious. Just had to distract you a little bit!”
When he released the controller, I accidentally pulled it to the side, so I let it rest on the couch away from me. I stared back at Travis, lips parted and an annoyed smile on my face. “No way, that wasn't legal at all! Only a few of my inputs went through there, and...”
“You can cry about it, won't change the fact that I beat you.”
I shook my head subtly, still with that same smile, and reached with my slim arm to try and grab his controller like he did mine. “No, no, give me that. Let me hold your buttons while you play as well, to make it fair!”
He pulled it away and kept me off with the other arm; we were quite physically close at that moment. I felt the rugged, rustic scent of his body, so desirable and tempting. I realized then that he certainly noted my scent at some point, fruity and feminine, a specific detail of crossdressing I never missed. I felt a spark, and my face burned warmer than when I first heard him speak.
“Alright, okay!” I said when I gave up, giggling along. I no longer struggled to grab the game pad, but my torso was still partially pushed against his side and shoulder, our faces closer than ever before. “I won't... I won't need to cheat to defeat you again.”
He grinned and nodded. “Oh, yeah? We'll see about that.” I opened a bright smile, but my eyes continued locked with his, as my body remained glued. His stare turned into interrogation. “C'mon, let's go for the next.”
I was somehow hypnotized by his sight, natural perfume, voice, the moment, my feelings, and my quickly thumping heart. As if possessed by a ghost, I pushed myself in and up, shut my eyelids, and aimed with my mouth to Travis'. For a split second I sensed my lip gloss glaze and then cushion against his skin, and as soon as we touched, he pulled back. “Huh?” Looking back at him, he seemed baffled.
“What the fuck do you think you're doing, man?” he questioned.
“Uh, uhm... I...” I sighed after stuttering, mind blank and eyes glistening. I proceeded to look down in panic and blow a brief sigh. “G-God, what was I thinking?”
“For real, what was that about?”
“I just, like... fuck, I don't know what's going through my head right now, I'm so sorry, Travis!” I sighed more desperately this time, and the water in my eyes started becoming tears, but Travis raised hands to tranquilize me.
“Don't lose your shit. I should've known you gay or whatever, with the whole dress up and the girly voice,” he explained as nonthreateningly as he could, and hearing he say those words was what seeded the realization that I wasn't as straight or bisexual as I grew up believing I was, “but I don't swing that way, dude, not a chance. No issue with you doing your thing, but you gotta respect me too, alright?”
He knew I wasn't strong enough to attack him or defend myself, and so instead of resorting to pure aggression, he reacted in a way I found endearing from such a manly stud. I dried my eyes in my fingers before it ruined my make up, responding: “Alright. It's that you said you thought I was a girl, and you seemed to find me cute when you saw me, so I thought you'd be open to experiment a little.”
“Yeah, but I didn't know you were a dude, now I do. It's different.”
I pouted from frustration. “I'm so into you right now... can't I at least do something on you? Like, massage you, give you a hand job or something else?”
Travis shrugged and immediately scratched his head, looking down at my fingers, then up at my lips. “I don't know, the idea is messed up, but you be looking more like a girl than your girl, so it's sorta confusing,” he told me.
“Then it's fine, isn't it? It's pretty much like getting a hand job from Kayla, and you don't have to do anything on me, so there's nothing bad about it!” As is clear here, I was digging my way through our Black bull's limits, and it was working, through the power of my needy doe eyes and my cherry lips.
His shrug was much tighter now, almost comical. “Aah, I don't know, man. I never been with a girly boy, this shit's all new to me,” Travis said.
“Oh!” I nodded once with my eyes shut. “That's perfect, because I've never touched another guy's cock in my life. I've only seen it in porn or from a distance, and I'd love the first to be yours! Kayla will be away for hours still, and I wouldn't mind being a distraction in the meantime.”
“Yeah, yeah, it's alright then, put your hand on it. Just none of that kissing in the mouth and shit,” he reiterated, and I nodded obediently. I was already itching to pat his long, thick bulge through the shorts, let alone feel his cock raw between the fingers.
“You should...” I whispered and came closer, curling my legs to place my feet on the couch to the side “... just practice in arcade mode. I'll keep you relaxed.” With wonder in my eyes gazing down at the bulge in Travis' shorts, I smoothly caressed that mountain and felt that it had already started getting hard. I looked up into his eyes, and he spat a laugh.
“If you be staring at me, you'll make shit more difficult!”
“Sorry,” I said, sighing and instead giving all of my attention to the flesh beneath the fabric. “I'll pull it off, the underwear is too tight on it.” That came with the tone of a nurse trying to save a patient's life in an emergency; that massive dick was fighting for freedom in those confines, and I assumed the responsibility of pulling those bottoms off, underwear and all, and letting it plop out into the open air. With the new exposed sight, my jaw dropped, lips parted into a subtle grin.
Travis' dick was at the level of those porn actors, but perhaps you could call it uglier in a good kind of way. It's fine for a cock to be scary, ugly, and full of features some would call fearsome, because it's a tool made to destroy the hole it enters, to dominate it and leave it a gaping mess.
His had untamed patches of curly hair all over the crotch, crowning around to the oily, leathery testicles that pooled on the couch's surface like a living puddle. The base already started thicker than my boyish arm, then became wider as it arched at the chest, proud with systems of veins that made it seem more muscular than vascular. Then it tapered to the head, but it was covered in a loose and floppy excess of foreskin, which I instantly grabbed and pulled back with awe. It stretched as the purple head reared out to fully emerge.
The tip was enlarged, as was the rest of the overtly swollen cap, meaty and full of details my mini dick never developed. It had small spots of darkening, followed by even smaller spots of discoloration, and a certain dryness that stayed even as I spread the strong-scented juices he dripped. “This... this is amazing,” I mumbled in a mix of shock and temptation.
“Ah, shit... I was gonna go nuts waiting for your girl. Feels like a relief getting that hand 'round my dick,” Travis spoke with a relaxing groan. I chose, per his words, to focus on my touch and jerk the head of that dark pole more thoroughly. I had no experience pleasuring a real dick; all my life, I had only pleasured the little shrimp between my thighs.
“You can't go horny for too long, it's probably bad for your balls, they're so huge,” I commented and reached with my other hand to feel those black orbs. I dug into the mass and felt the weight, density, the texture, and the sweat among the hair. I gave it soft scratches with my manicured nails and felt the balls inside tighten and release, all the while I teased the underside of his cock head with the thumb. This whole ordeal caught a quiet moan off me, an uncontrollable reaction. “I feel like I'm dreaming.”
“Keep going, I ain't cumming any time soon,” he said.
He could take his sweet time, I wouldn't mind spending an eternity pumping that juicy meat up and down. I grabbed around the glans with an entire hand, and while serving him, it came to mind how I masturbated either with my ass or by holding my cocklet between the tip of my index and thumb, whereas a specimen that perfect required an entire palm and all the fingers.
I looked at him again from the side, and he paid attention on the game, so I kept instead focusing on what had become my job. Taking the view of that monstrous ham flopping and then hardening in my hands, the skin shining lusciously with those juices that spread a piercing fertile scent in the air — a familiar one I frequently smelled in our bedroom — I couldn't hold back my thirst for its flavor, and for a closer whiff of its addictive fragrance.
“Is it alright if I suck it?” I got the courage to request. He looked to the side and paused, sighing out the tranquilizing pleasure I gave to his member without ceasing. Being a guy myself, it was easier to imagine the spots that made him experience the most satisfaction.
“You know what? Go ahead. Might as well,” said Travis.
I felt ecstatic and got up in front of him to prepare to kneel, but a thought crossed my mind. Standing with that giant dick head still cupped in a hand, I decided to probe his openness before he realized we were doing gayer things by the minute. “I just thought, can I pull my cock out? I rarely get this hard and I want to rub one out while I suck you.”
He shrugged. “Whatever, man, it's alright.”
With a genuine smile, I lifted the dress, and the pink panties underneath were sheer and thin enough that a cock or pussy hidden behind the fabric would've been immediately clear, however, there was nothing to be seen there but my waxed crotch. At first he was puzzled, yet once I spread my thighs and pulled the panties down, my microdick flipped up like a tiny nub with smooth skin hanging below it, those being pathetic excuses for testicles.
That minuscule joke hanged over a gigantic chocolate spire, drooling at the tip with shame, so hard it quivered at the sight. As a gut reaction, Travis laughed and mocked my little phimosis noodle: “What the fuck? Damn, I see what you were saying! So this what a microdick like. Look at this shit!” I enjoyed the exposure and the humiliation, which made my face burn like before, but I didn't expect that man to come closer with his rude fingers and actually swat the edge of my dick, scoffing all the while. It slapped wetly against the side of my thigh and I jerked back from the sensitivity.
“Ah, FUCK! Noooo...” I uttered with a wavering, even more effeminate tone. Tears clogged up my eyes and a relentless warmth marched up to my tightening mini balls. I was cumming from a minor touch, mixed with my girlfriend's lover's bullying! Best of all, I did not control myself and did it all over the tip of his mast.
The semen I produce ever so rarely spills with small edges of white, although most of it is completely clear, like sticky water. That day was no exception: for me, a huge load came out, as if I exploded in pieces, bucking hips in deep trance. When I looked down, however, the long drops of girly cum were barely enough to paint Travis' exposed flesh, let alone the entirety of his length.
“You just dripped all over my fucking dick! You cleaning this shit up right now,” the bull ordered; I couldn't help but stare with lazy eyes at him, still holding my dress up with fingers clutched at the hemline, pearls of spunk bundling at the urethra to stain the black flesh below.
“Haah... I'm so sorry... I got so horny, I couldn't stop. Fuuck... I'm going to clean it right now... haah-haah... with my mouth.” And that was a promise I wanted to keep for sure. Still trembling and shivering, I squatted between Travis' spread legs and approached his meat with my face.
That intimately close, I couldn't smell the faint scent of my diluted sperm, but I could certainly huff in the overpowering odor of that monster black cock. It towered over my face like a looming beast, and my eyes crossed to stare up at the engorged head, much as a devout worshiper would look up to a god. I felt a stronger need to adore the bull who first made my girlfriend cheat.
Lost in paradise, I slid my cute nose and lips up his length, outlining the head and meeting the bundled foreskin near the tip, where most of my worthless nut pooled. Pouting, I came down and peppered it with slurps and wet kisses, sucking in the close to tasteless fluids. Continuing to kiss when the soiling was removed, I slid my tongue on and on at the purple flesh of his head, then prodded under the foreskin.
The taste was powerful and masculine, and I fell from a squat down to my knees, a hand rested at the base of his pole to keep it at my mouth's height. I flickered my tongue at a glob of pre-cum that popped out of his confines, and savored the saltiness as I dared look up into Travis' eyes.
I suppose the contrast of a girly face serving such a manly cock left him more open to exchange looks; or better, he might've found enjoyment in seeing my passionate eyes piercing with such devotion as I French kissed that massive meat. I was a boy, a cuck submitting to his girlfriend's bull, and somehow I felt more eager to be there for him than to be in bed with Kayla ever again.
I smooched the urethra some more and released it with juicy smacks of my cherry lips. “Hmm... this is my first blowjob. I'm sorry if I'm not as good as your girls, but I will do my best to make your cock feel pleasure,” I said. He, in the other hand, simply laid back comfortably and nodded, taking in the tone of our situation.
After I stretched my mouth and tightened my eyes, I finally attempted going deeper for the first time. It was understood that quickly that I wasn't ready to put all of that monster in my mouth, with how it filled my cheeks and pushed down on my caressing tongue. Had his cock gone deep enough to touch the back of my throat, I feared I would choke and hurt myself.
I gave up and pulled back with a big, wet lick to leave behind a strand of spit. I dove back in, accepting not to go too deep, and so choosing to make it as sloppy and messy on the tip and head. I used both of my delicate hands to rub and jerk the rest of the dick, twisting them with the goal to give as much pleasure as I could.
The mouth farts and loud slurps of my suckling echoed in our living room. With my head bobbing back and forth, pink wig swaying to the desperate rhythm of a sissy in love, I caught myself wondering how well Kayla was at deepthroating that dick. Did she go all the way to the balls? Had she become so trained at pleasing big black cocks that this was no longer an issue for her? Did she have a talent from the start? If not, could I become as proficient as a BBC slut like my own girlfriend?
When Travis tensed up, the large veins pulsated wider like snakes, but that black mamba was the center of the show. The amount of fluids it released onto my tongue was plentiful then, yet I managed to drink it all as if I had thirsted for it my whole life. I saw him lift his head and release a soft, deep groan. That was it! Knowing how sensitive the cock head felt, I managed to bring that Black stud close to a climax!
I put my all into it, bobbing my head harder and not minding the ache in my lips and jaw. My tongue gained a softer flick to caress the wet surface of his flesh at each cycle, and my hands pumped him more vigorously. He became hornier while witnessing my absurd eagerness to please, then released a louder moan. In a few instants, I was going to succeed; one of my dreams was about to come true.
The first blast of thick cum took me by surprise and made me flinch in place. I stopped bouncing my head and concentrated on suckling while my tongue toyed with the hole in the tip, cutting through the waves of spurting milk to continue making Travis feel pleasure. My hands slid up so that both thumbs rubbed the ridge for that extra flair. It was a wonderful experience to feel the blood rushing through such a veiny, rock-hard log.
I choked with a splatter of sperm that hit the back of my throat too hard, and at that moment I opened my almond eyes to continue eye contact with Travis' contorted expression. In my defeat, I was somehow victorious, all the while getting a stomach padded with cum. I recomposed myself and continued to swallow that savory meal.
When only droplets insisted on coming out, I also insisted on cleaning up and drinking them. Not a molecule of that load escaped my lips; I had claimed it all successfully.
“Fuck, man... this was way better than I expected,” he admitted and rested a hand on my wig, brushing it back to caress the side of my face. I grinned with the throbbing dick in my mouth. Unexpectedly, Travis turned to the side and I noticed a shadow approach on the wooden floor. “Oh, what up, girl?”
My eyes widened. I released him from my mouth with a pop and turned as well, shamefully taking in the sight of Kayla, who stood with a shocked expression beside us. For whatever reason, she had come earlier that day, and she had caught me drinking my first load of cum. Awkward!
Her incredulity came through the tone as she asked our bull: “What are you doing with my boyfriend?”
“You weren't around, so I let him distract me while you were gone,” he said, “but now you here, so I guess he done.”
“B-baby, it's fine, isn't it?” There was nervousness in my voice, although I idly jerked the cock I had so quickly become obsessed with. “Our relationship is open and all...”
She silently looked for a moment and snarled, eyebrows rising. “Sure, yeah, I just didn't expect this... at all,” she said.
I giggled softly. “Now I understand why you like Travis! Anyway, he's all yours,” I told her and stood up, rubbing my wet hands together before I pulled the panties back up. “I'll go take some photos with this outfit.”
“I can't spend time with Travis now. I'm here early to study for tomorrow's test,” she explained, complicating matters further.
“Oh.” I looked back at the bull, then back at Kayla. “Then... what should I do?”
“I don't know. Travis, do you want to go back home already?”
Travis shook his head. “Not really, nah. Think I'll spend the afternoon.” I knew what that meant.
“Then keep doing your thing with him, Jessica,” Kayla called me that name in a venomous fashion. That was the name she used to feminize me and humiliate me, to reduce me to a girl with a dick, something that teased me in a way I disliked. She was jealous of me spending quality time with Travis, and it showed. “I'll be too busy studying in the bedroom, so don't do too much noise.”
I eyed her with a slight disdain. “Okay. Have a good study,” I said as a formality. She shut herself in the bedroom and I was left in that reversed position, being the one making company for the stud while my girlfriend stayed locked in a bedroom.
“Hey, your girl sounded kinda mad at us,” Travis mentioned sarcastically.
“She's a little jealous, but she said it was fine for us to do things together, so... have anything in mind?” I ended the phrase suggestively, in the hopes that he would allow me to enjoy my own perversions at the very least, although his desires remained my priority.
“I just took your mouth's first, now think I wanna try that booty.” My hand instinctively grabbed one of my pudgy ass cheeks through the dress, imagining how a cock that much bigger than the dildos I used would ravage it. “Your girl don't like anal too much, so it will make up for her giving me shit whenever I wanna do it.”
In preparation, I breathed in and out, then smiled positively. “I'll love having your cock in my ass!”
The keyword is “boy”. When you're a twenty one years-old guy, usually more people start referring to you as a “man”. That was never the case for me. My whole life I've been called either of two things: boy or girl. I was never masculine enough to gain the title of “man”, I guess.
How bad was it? Well, really bad. A hormonal tragedy, in my opinion. Either my body doesn't produce enough androgens, or it's somehow resistant to it, I'm not sure. Even back then, slim as I was, you couldn't find a single fold of muscle on my pale white flesh. My nipples were puffy and stood proud, like A-cups, and my rear, petite as it was, carried a decent amount of cake to each cheek, perked up to mark every light fabric I wore.
Everyone commented on my thin fingers, how delicate they were, how frail they felt... but it wasn't only my fingers that were harmless and thin. What people didn't know was that the tool under my pants looked just as minuscule, not overcoming the five centimeter mark at full length, with two balls so tightly tied behind it that I sometimes wondered if I hadn't been castrated.
That's no problem, you say. Many men navigate life being slim, weak, and small-dicked. Difficulties arise, but they're still men in the end. However, for me it was different, as my face didn't help whatsoever. Sure, I had some of the sharp angles you'd expect from a boy, on the chin and the jaw, but it softened with mounds of fat on my cheeks, while the remaining features gave further mixed signals. Tight nostrils with a cute rounded nose, almond brown eyes too angelic and innocent, narrow pink lips lined like a cherry, and thick tapering eyebrows I had to meticulously pluck... it's no wonder I often got the unsure “you're a boy, right?” from new acquaintances.
My name is Jesse, by the way. My parents didn't help with that either. It's like I was born to be teased for failing completely at being people's idea of a man. You can imagine how it was like for me growing up.
First there was confusion. Guys made fun of me, but a few girls seemed to have a thing for me. In the other hand, guys made me feel excited, whereas girls made me feel fuzzy at best. Second there was a misguided reaction. I got into relationships with girls, as that was the only option that seemed natural to a “man” after all. Third there was realization. I wasn't capable of fully pleasing a woman, and wasn't fit for being a proper man.
From this arose the issue, and how I ended up the way I did at the age of twenty one. I had finished tech school and worked from an apartment I rented with my girlfriend, Kayla, a cute redhead who was yet in college. Being who I am, it was obvious that five centimeters of a mostly limp noodle wasn't enough to satisfy her, so we had to get creative.
As you know, people give different takes on “size isn't everything”. Kayla held that philosophy way back then, that size didn't matter, and that there were so many other ways to keep sex exciting as a couple that surely we'd be fine! When limpdick here failed to please her properly, we got imaginative with objects for starters. She had a small vibrator, so I also got her an average-sized dildo and a small buttplug. I didn't enjoy putting my mouth on a pussy, meaning I spent most of the time using toys on her while she pleasured me in some other way.
That worked well for a few months, but it's not true what people say. Size does matter.
Kayla got curious about bigger dildos. We got her weirdly shaped ones, thicker ones, longer ones, harder ones, veinier ones... each time she felt an alien kind of pleasure, some more intense than others. Getting comfortable with each other, we allowed pornography in the bedroom. Maybe that was my final mistake.
Hardcore pornography nowadays is full of the most virile, masculine, huge-dicked guys on Earth. I hated watching it at the time, but some websites got Kayla really into the mood, and she had harder orgasms to them. I'll say that the moment I noticed a pattern in her fantasies was when I became aware of how often we had started watching porn starring Black men. It didn't matter if they were with white girls, Kayla just wanted to see the Black guys fucking them, and those men had some obscene cocks, absolutely massive! I knew the average penis was way bigger than mine, but it was crazy to me that those of the Black actors were real.
It had gotten to a point that, whenever we had “sex time” at night and in the free weekends, we watched nothing but porn portraying huge-dicked, Black men. The dildos of choice were all dark and in line with what Kayla frequently saw on our laptop's screen, while her orgasms were at the sight of those women being obliterated in bed by the hunks. My orgasms? I'm not sure if at that point I came from watching Kayla experience what I could never give her, or from looking at those hot men myself.
What I can tell you, however, is that I started getting bored from our intimate time together. To spice my life back up, I picked a perversion in secret, and did what to me seemed like an obvious choice for a boy my type: crossdressing. I may say it's not in fact that simple; really, I wanted to fantasize how it felt to be the girls in the videos, produced into perfect beauty to then be degraded into a pleasured mess by big black cocks.
Kayla was significantly shorter than me, and in fear of ruining her underwear, I began by purchasing my first pair of panties. It all spiraled down from there, through using her make-up when she was away, following tutorials, then posting photos of myself with mouth and nose hidden on anonymous boards. The positive responses thrilled me, along the thought of men desiring me as they did actual women, and it reawakened a deep excitement I sorely missed.
My girlfriend failed to notice my disinterest, and I failed to notice hers. I told you size matters, and it's not the size of a dildo that fully sates a woman, but the size of a real, meaty shaft. While I stayed home to deliver a project, she cheated on me for the first time at a college party. Her partner in crime was a long-time crush of hers, a Black man called Travis.
Cheating is wrong, but when you're a sexually frustrated pretty girl like Kayla, ***** and having too much fun, there are few answers to when you find yourself in the arms of someone like Travis. He wasn't in college at all; he was just a friend of one of the girls who had organized the event. His thing was running a label for his friends' music and festivals, and it was no surprise he had contacts to get into most parties around town. Being tall, toned, and handsome as he was, it's also a no-brainer that he fucked many girls every week. I have come to terms with the possibility that Kayla had been only one of the women who slept with him that night.
Despite it all, my girlfriend has a decent sense of morality, and she felt guilty as soon as she sobered up. Although she couldn't deny herself the unbelievable experience that man gave her, she couldn't get herself to cheat again. In an attempt to find a way out, she had a conversation with me.
“I love you, but I need other men in bed,” was what she said. Perfectly understandable, I thought. I loved her and never felt sexually satisfied with her either. It's possible to love someone and not have all your needs met, isn't it? Besides, since seeing her masturbate was close to the full extent of our sex life then, the idea of her sleeping with masculine lovers made me feel excited about Kayla again... no, I mean excited about the guys she would sleep with, to be honest.
I decided to reveal dirty laundry of mine too, as in, all of the panties, bras, and pantyhoses I had purchased for myself. It wasn't as bad, though I felt that showing off to those strangers on the internet was some twisted form of cheating, and so I admitted that to her. Her reaction was also that of excitement.
You might not have heard this during your lifetime, but I've frequently gotten the same comment from my female friends as I heard from Kayla that day: “oh my God, I always wanted to put make-up on a guy!” I couldn't be weirded out by her fascination, since I had one of my own for dressing up girly and calling strangers “Daddy” online.
So there we went: I was excited to be a crossdressing cuckold, and my girlfriend was excited to crossdress me and cuckold me, a match made in heaven, some would argue. Somehow the table was still going to turn from this point, as unexpected as it may sound.
Half a year after we changed our relationship for the best, I no longer had any resistance to wearing my feminine clothes around the house, whether my girlfriend was home or not. The only exception was when she brought bulls to fuck her, more often Travis, where she told me to hide in the guest bedroom and sleep away from their eyes. Listening to the sounds of them moaning and dirty talking was enough of a push for me to orgasm during those nights, especially wearing the clothes I purchased, so that I could imagine myself in Kayla's place, possessed by those stallions.
Travis became so comfortable with our place that perhaps he misjudged his limits one day, the day when my life truly did a one-eighty turn. Not having any work for the week, I was in our bedroom listening to music and trying out new types of clothes, make-up, and a pink lace front wig.
I had gone all out with a pink blush to my nose and cheeks, some pearly gloss on my lips, and a cat-eye eyeliner. With that colorful wig, I sure looked like those typical e-girls, my slim body hugged by a short, white bodycon dress. I was barefoot still, as I was finishing the wings on the eyes, but my toenails were painted pink to match the shade of hair, as were my fingernails. Not even the tiniest bulges appeared on my crotch, and if I were seen, I knew how likely it was for me to be thought of as a girl.
How delightful it was that such a thing was about to happen! Although, when I heard the doorbell ringing and knocks at the front door, I panicked. How did the doorman allow someone past the gate without calling me first? I thought it must've been a lost guest, and so I ran from the bedroom and stared through the peephole. Raising more questions than answers, I saw Travis on the other side, dressed quite casually.
“Who's that?” I asked, my voice soft and child-like, enough to be thought of as a tomboy's. I knew him, but he probably had no idea someone else lived there with Kayla, with how she kept me tucked away in the guest bedroom.
“Huh...? Shit, isn't this Kayla's place?” His voice was much deeper and more rugged, and hearing him made butterflies fly in my tummy even through the door.
“Oh, yeah, yeah! Are you a friend of hers?” I won't lie that I made my tone sound as inoffensive and girly as I could without sounding forced.
“I'm Travis. She home?”
“Travis, right. She told me about you. Let me open the door,” I said and unlocked it, building up the courage to reveal myself to that stud. I pulled the door open with calm and opened my eyes to stare up and give him a brief, sweet smile, my minutely separated front teeth making me a sight even more nubile. He liked redheads, but maybe pink hair wasn't too far, I imagined. “She's in college right now, but you can wait here if you want.”
Travis frowned unbelievably at me. I was sure then that he had no doubts I was a cute girl, and this made my face burn! Either that, or his body was so confused it just defaulted to thinking of me as attractive regardless of my gender. “Uh, damn, you must be her roommate or whatever. Excuse me,” he babbled and came inside, so I shut and locked the door behind him. “You know when she coming back?”
“Usually today she comes back at the end of the afternoon or so. If you want to wait around, it's okay with us.”
“Alright, alright. What should I call you?”
“Oh, me...?” I thought a split second. My brain chose my own name, because it was androgynous and I didn't know how filled in Travis was on my existence. “I'm Jesse.”
“Jesse, right,” he turned halfway around to go to the living room, but stopped in thought, “wait a second, uhm...”
I lifted my eyebrows. This was getting awkward. “Yeah?”
“You're Jesse, as in...” He nodded his head and shrugged.
I filled my lungs with air and released it all at once. Kayla had told him about me after all. “As in, Kayla's boyfriend, yes,” I replied, giving in.
“What!” he spat out with a chuckle of disbelief, and I held my fingers together, close to my body. The dumb smile on my face was of shyness and slight amusement, if not some shame. “No fucking way, you dressed in her clothes and shit!”
“N-no, like... those are mine.”
He laughed louder now. “Damn... what the fuck! Alright, you got me there, bro. Fuck, you really looking like a girl. That your hair?”
“It's just a wig. I'm a brune-... I... have black hair, but it's not this long yet.”
“Unbelievable, bro. Nah, I can't believe you got me like this, this is fucking incredible,” he was still chuckling between his words.
“Sorry...?” I apologized with an embarrassed rising tone and a wince.
“Don't be sorry, you got me good! Hey, just to make sure, you do know I've been fucking your girl, right?” I subtly nodded when he asked that. “Alright, nice. So it's like a mutual thing, like the cuck thing.”
“Yeah, and this whole thing, it's...” I paused and looked down at myself, taking in the contrast of my feminine shape with his studly one. It was dumbfounding how good I had gotten at this, and how fit my body was for the job “... it started as a fantasy, but I guess it got too serious.”
“No shit, you a professional. Fuck, even the toenails and shit, look at that! I still can't believe it,” he continued with that impressed tone, then finally made his way to sit on the couch. Not knowing what to do, I followed him like a puppy.
I watched Travis take a seat and sigh. “Feel free to relax while she's not home. If you want something to drink, I can get you some cold beer. It's Kayla's, but she doesn't mind you having it,” I told him.
“Nah, I'm alright, Jesse,” he said my name with an emphasis, as if he mocked it lightly. I smiled, but before I thought of going back to my crossdressing duties, Travis pointed to a game console under the TV. “Yo, that Playstation yours?”
“Oh? Yeah, it is!”
“I knew it had to be,” he said, staring at the physical copies I had placed beside it, ”ain't no way your girl be playing like... Gran Turismo, God of War, fucking Street Fighter. You good at those?”
I lifted one eyebrow and pouted. It seemed I had found a way to get closer to that man, and I would not waste the opportunity. “I finished second place at a city tournament for Street Fighter 5 last year,” I claimed, and it's true, I swear.
He leaned forward, brow tightened in further disbelief. “You fucking with me.”
“I've got more than one game pad. Wanna try me?”
Following a swing of his hand, he slid to the back of the couch and challenged me: “Give me that fucking controller, let's see what you got.”
Finally, something I could beat a man at! I turned on the TV, hooked up the game and beat Travis' ass dozens of times on versus. He mostly used Blanka, but I used a diversity of characters just to keep him on his toes and show him I was, indeed, champion material. As nerdy as this was, I loved not being the defeated party for the first time in my life.
It was a strange sight for someone who knew the context, a girly white boy in a dress, make-up, and wig; by his side, a large and strong Black man with a buzzcut, beard, in a jersey and baggy shorts. What were we doing? Playing a fighting game together.
Travis complained many times about how he thought I was cheating, so I took the chance to sit with my legs much closer to his without touching, and gave him free sight of my fingers on the buttons. Like that, I beat him again, and he sighed in hopelessness.
“Damn! I thought you were kidding, but you for real,” he admitted and lazed back on the couch. “I still think I can beat you at least once though.”
I turned to him, legs tightly together so that he wouldn't catch a glimpse between my thighs, an instinct gained from mimicking women too long. “How can you be so sure?” I asked smugly.
“No one's impervious, bro, I'll get you, I know I can. Let me just rest my hands, alright?”
“With how much stronger your hands are, I should be the one resting, yet here we are...”
Travis placed his hands behind his head and tightened his face in humiliation. “Ah, god damn, I can't believe this cuck in a dress fucking laying me down to rest right now! No way, this gotta be a nightmare!” It was clear by his voice that he was joking, and so I giggled along, despite the reminder of our relationship so far being a subtle wake-up call for us both.
“So, ready to continue?”
“Alright, whatever, give me my punishment,” he said as we got into the next match. We weren't taking it too seriously anymore, so he chatted with eyes peeled on the screen. “Yo, Jesse, I always wondered something about this cuckold thing.”
“What's that?”
“The fuck makes you dudes want to get cheated on? You don't feel a little possessive or nothing?”
I raised my eyebrows and breathed out, losing focus on a combo for an instant. “I don't know the answer for everyone, but I know mine,” I explained. “When you can't please a girl in bed, you have to find alternative ways to do it, so you're more likely to have fantasies like that.”
“Oh, so it's 'cause you got a small dick?”
“In part, yeah, and I have ED, so it's a problem to keep it up.” Weird thing to be transparent about, but it's my girlfriend's bull, I had already tasted him off her kiss dozens of times. What was he going to do next, fuck me?
Travis couldn't grasp the concept yet. “Nah, but I know a dude who has the same issues, man, and he just takes a blue pill and learned a couple positions. He keeps his girl happy like that,” he said. Clearly he had not taken in the particular seriousness of my problem.
“My cock isn't just small, like... it's a microdick. It's really tiny.”
“How tiny we talking?”
I looked around for a moment and my character took a few spare hits on screen, which prompted me to pay attention to Travis' hands and predict his movements. Seeing the girth of his fingers, I found a quick and dirty comparison. “No joke, it's way smaller than your thumb,” I claimed.
He tightened the brow in response. “Alright, I ain't doubting you no more. That's an actual microdick, excuse me,” he finished with a chuckle.
We played a while longer, and because he had seen I messed up more when I lost focus, he decided to sabotage me right then and there. With how many matches he had lost, he just wanted to prove to me I wasn't impervious, as he said, so he crossed an arm over and shoved a hand onto some of my buttons, covering and grabbing the controller while he still attacked my character with the other hand. “What do you think you're doing?” I muttered, trying and failing to pull the game pad away; he was much stronger, and my thin fingers found no give between that rough skin.
“You got too close, I'm taking my chance!” he said, finally taking me down. From a lucky tie he got in my last distraction, his next victory meant he had taken an entire match as a first for him, and so he finally let go and pumped a fist with pride. “There you go! I told you you ain't impervious. Just had to distract you a little bit!”
When he released the controller, I accidentally pulled it to the side, so I let it rest on the couch away from me. I stared back at Travis, lips parted and an annoyed smile on my face. “No way, that wasn't legal at all! Only a few of my inputs went through there, and...”
“You can cry about it, won't change the fact that I beat you.”
I shook my head subtly, still with that same smile, and reached with my slim arm to try and grab his controller like he did mine. “No, no, give me that. Let me hold your buttons while you play as well, to make it fair!”
He pulled it away and kept me off with the other arm; we were quite physically close at that moment. I felt the rugged, rustic scent of his body, so desirable and tempting. I realized then that he certainly noted my scent at some point, fruity and feminine, a specific detail of crossdressing I never missed. I felt a spark, and my face burned warmer than when I first heard him speak.
“Alright, okay!” I said when I gave up, giggling along. I no longer struggled to grab the game pad, but my torso was still partially pushed against his side and shoulder, our faces closer than ever before. “I won't... I won't need to cheat to defeat you again.”
He grinned and nodded. “Oh, yeah? We'll see about that.” I opened a bright smile, but my eyes continued locked with his, as my body remained glued. His stare turned into interrogation. “C'mon, let's go for the next.”
I was somehow hypnotized by his sight, natural perfume, voice, the moment, my feelings, and my quickly thumping heart. As if possessed by a ghost, I pushed myself in and up, shut my eyelids, and aimed with my mouth to Travis'. For a split second I sensed my lip gloss glaze and then cushion against his skin, and as soon as we touched, he pulled back. “Huh?” Looking back at him, he seemed baffled.
“What the fuck do you think you're doing, man?” he questioned.
“Uh, uhm... I...” I sighed after stuttering, mind blank and eyes glistening. I proceeded to look down in panic and blow a brief sigh. “G-God, what was I thinking?”
“For real, what was that about?”
“I just, like... fuck, I don't know what's going through my head right now, I'm so sorry, Travis!” I sighed more desperately this time, and the water in my eyes started becoming tears, but Travis raised hands to tranquilize me.
“Don't lose your shit. I should've known you gay or whatever, with the whole dress up and the girly voice,” he explained as nonthreateningly as he could, and hearing he say those words was what seeded the realization that I wasn't as straight or bisexual as I grew up believing I was, “but I don't swing that way, dude, not a chance. No issue with you doing your thing, but you gotta respect me too, alright?”
He knew I wasn't strong enough to attack him or defend myself, and so instead of resorting to pure aggression, he reacted in a way I found endearing from such a manly stud. I dried my eyes in my fingers before it ruined my make up, responding: “Alright. It's that you said you thought I was a girl, and you seemed to find me cute when you saw me, so I thought you'd be open to experiment a little.”
“Yeah, but I didn't know you were a dude, now I do. It's different.”
I pouted from frustration. “I'm so into you right now... can't I at least do something on you? Like, massage you, give you a hand job or something else?”
Travis shrugged and immediately scratched his head, looking down at my fingers, then up at my lips. “I don't know, the idea is messed up, but you be looking more like a girl than your girl, so it's sorta confusing,” he told me.
“Then it's fine, isn't it? It's pretty much like getting a hand job from Kayla, and you don't have to do anything on me, so there's nothing bad about it!” As is clear here, I was digging my way through our Black bull's limits, and it was working, through the power of my needy doe eyes and my cherry lips.
His shrug was much tighter now, almost comical. “Aah, I don't know, man. I never been with a girly boy, this shit's all new to me,” Travis said.
“Oh!” I nodded once with my eyes shut. “That's perfect, because I've never touched another guy's cock in my life. I've only seen it in porn or from a distance, and I'd love the first to be yours! Kayla will be away for hours still, and I wouldn't mind being a distraction in the meantime.”
“Yeah, yeah, it's alright then, put your hand on it. Just none of that kissing in the mouth and shit,” he reiterated, and I nodded obediently. I was already itching to pat his long, thick bulge through the shorts, let alone feel his cock raw between the fingers.
“You should...” I whispered and came closer, curling my legs to place my feet on the couch to the side “... just practice in arcade mode. I'll keep you relaxed.” With wonder in my eyes gazing down at the bulge in Travis' shorts, I smoothly caressed that mountain and felt that it had already started getting hard. I looked up into his eyes, and he spat a laugh.
“If you be staring at me, you'll make shit more difficult!”
“Sorry,” I said, sighing and instead giving all of my attention to the flesh beneath the fabric. “I'll pull it off, the underwear is too tight on it.” That came with the tone of a nurse trying to save a patient's life in an emergency; that massive dick was fighting for freedom in those confines, and I assumed the responsibility of pulling those bottoms off, underwear and all, and letting it plop out into the open air. With the new exposed sight, my jaw dropped, lips parted into a subtle grin.
Travis' dick was at the level of those porn actors, but perhaps you could call it uglier in a good kind of way. It's fine for a cock to be scary, ugly, and full of features some would call fearsome, because it's a tool made to destroy the hole it enters, to dominate it and leave it a gaping mess.
His had untamed patches of curly hair all over the crotch, crowning around to the oily, leathery testicles that pooled on the couch's surface like a living puddle. The base already started thicker than my boyish arm, then became wider as it arched at the chest, proud with systems of veins that made it seem more muscular than vascular. Then it tapered to the head, but it was covered in a loose and floppy excess of foreskin, which I instantly grabbed and pulled back with awe. It stretched as the purple head reared out to fully emerge.
The tip was enlarged, as was the rest of the overtly swollen cap, meaty and full of details my mini dick never developed. It had small spots of darkening, followed by even smaller spots of discoloration, and a certain dryness that stayed even as I spread the strong-scented juices he dripped. “This... this is amazing,” I mumbled in a mix of shock and temptation.
“Ah, shit... I was gonna go nuts waiting for your girl. Feels like a relief getting that hand 'round my dick,” Travis spoke with a relaxing groan. I chose, per his words, to focus on my touch and jerk the head of that dark pole more thoroughly. I had no experience pleasuring a real dick; all my life, I had only pleasured the little shrimp between my thighs.
“You can't go horny for too long, it's probably bad for your balls, they're so huge,” I commented and reached with my other hand to feel those black orbs. I dug into the mass and felt the weight, density, the texture, and the sweat among the hair. I gave it soft scratches with my manicured nails and felt the balls inside tighten and release, all the while I teased the underside of his cock head with the thumb. This whole ordeal caught a quiet moan off me, an uncontrollable reaction. “I feel like I'm dreaming.”
“Keep going, I ain't cumming any time soon,” he said.
He could take his sweet time, I wouldn't mind spending an eternity pumping that juicy meat up and down. I grabbed around the glans with an entire hand, and while serving him, it came to mind how I masturbated either with my ass or by holding my cocklet between the tip of my index and thumb, whereas a specimen that perfect required an entire palm and all the fingers.
I looked at him again from the side, and he paid attention on the game, so I kept instead focusing on what had become my job. Taking the view of that monstrous ham flopping and then hardening in my hands, the skin shining lusciously with those juices that spread a piercing fertile scent in the air — a familiar one I frequently smelled in our bedroom — I couldn't hold back my thirst for its flavor, and for a closer whiff of its addictive fragrance.
“Is it alright if I suck it?” I got the courage to request. He looked to the side and paused, sighing out the tranquilizing pleasure I gave to his member without ceasing. Being a guy myself, it was easier to imagine the spots that made him experience the most satisfaction.
“You know what? Go ahead. Might as well,” said Travis.
I felt ecstatic and got up in front of him to prepare to kneel, but a thought crossed my mind. Standing with that giant dick head still cupped in a hand, I decided to probe his openness before he realized we were doing gayer things by the minute. “I just thought, can I pull my cock out? I rarely get this hard and I want to rub one out while I suck you.”
He shrugged. “Whatever, man, it's alright.”
With a genuine smile, I lifted the dress, and the pink panties underneath were sheer and thin enough that a cock or pussy hidden behind the fabric would've been immediately clear, however, there was nothing to be seen there but my waxed crotch. At first he was puzzled, yet once I spread my thighs and pulled the panties down, my microdick flipped up like a tiny nub with smooth skin hanging below it, those being pathetic excuses for testicles.
That minuscule joke hanged over a gigantic chocolate spire, drooling at the tip with shame, so hard it quivered at the sight. As a gut reaction, Travis laughed and mocked my little phimosis noodle: “What the fuck? Damn, I see what you were saying! So this what a microdick like. Look at this shit!” I enjoyed the exposure and the humiliation, which made my face burn like before, but I didn't expect that man to come closer with his rude fingers and actually swat the edge of my dick, scoffing all the while. It slapped wetly against the side of my thigh and I jerked back from the sensitivity.
“Ah, FUCK! Noooo...” I uttered with a wavering, even more effeminate tone. Tears clogged up my eyes and a relentless warmth marched up to my tightening mini balls. I was cumming from a minor touch, mixed with my girlfriend's lover's bullying! Best of all, I did not control myself and did it all over the tip of his mast.
The semen I produce ever so rarely spills with small edges of white, although most of it is completely clear, like sticky water. That day was no exception: for me, a huge load came out, as if I exploded in pieces, bucking hips in deep trance. When I looked down, however, the long drops of girly cum were barely enough to paint Travis' exposed flesh, let alone the entirety of his length.
“You just dripped all over my fucking dick! You cleaning this shit up right now,” the bull ordered; I couldn't help but stare with lazy eyes at him, still holding my dress up with fingers clutched at the hemline, pearls of spunk bundling at the urethra to stain the black flesh below.
“Haah... I'm so sorry... I got so horny, I couldn't stop. Fuuck... I'm going to clean it right now... haah-haah... with my mouth.” And that was a promise I wanted to keep for sure. Still trembling and shivering, I squatted between Travis' spread legs and approached his meat with my face.
That intimately close, I couldn't smell the faint scent of my diluted sperm, but I could certainly huff in the overpowering odor of that monster black cock. It towered over my face like a looming beast, and my eyes crossed to stare up at the engorged head, much as a devout worshiper would look up to a god. I felt a stronger need to adore the bull who first made my girlfriend cheat.
Lost in paradise, I slid my cute nose and lips up his length, outlining the head and meeting the bundled foreskin near the tip, where most of my worthless nut pooled. Pouting, I came down and peppered it with slurps and wet kisses, sucking in the close to tasteless fluids. Continuing to kiss when the soiling was removed, I slid my tongue on and on at the purple flesh of his head, then prodded under the foreskin.
The taste was powerful and masculine, and I fell from a squat down to my knees, a hand rested at the base of his pole to keep it at my mouth's height. I flickered my tongue at a glob of pre-cum that popped out of his confines, and savored the saltiness as I dared look up into Travis' eyes.
I suppose the contrast of a girly face serving such a manly cock left him more open to exchange looks; or better, he might've found enjoyment in seeing my passionate eyes piercing with such devotion as I French kissed that massive meat. I was a boy, a cuck submitting to his girlfriend's bull, and somehow I felt more eager to be there for him than to be in bed with Kayla ever again.
I smooched the urethra some more and released it with juicy smacks of my cherry lips. “Hmm... this is my first blowjob. I'm sorry if I'm not as good as your girls, but I will do my best to make your cock feel pleasure,” I said. He, in the other hand, simply laid back comfortably and nodded, taking in the tone of our situation.
After I stretched my mouth and tightened my eyes, I finally attempted going deeper for the first time. It was understood that quickly that I wasn't ready to put all of that monster in my mouth, with how it filled my cheeks and pushed down on my caressing tongue. Had his cock gone deep enough to touch the back of my throat, I feared I would choke and hurt myself.
I gave up and pulled back with a big, wet lick to leave behind a strand of spit. I dove back in, accepting not to go too deep, and so choosing to make it as sloppy and messy on the tip and head. I used both of my delicate hands to rub and jerk the rest of the dick, twisting them with the goal to give as much pleasure as I could.
The mouth farts and loud slurps of my suckling echoed in our living room. With my head bobbing back and forth, pink wig swaying to the desperate rhythm of a sissy in love, I caught myself wondering how well Kayla was at deepthroating that dick. Did she go all the way to the balls? Had she become so trained at pleasing big black cocks that this was no longer an issue for her? Did she have a talent from the start? If not, could I become as proficient as a BBC slut like my own girlfriend?
When Travis tensed up, the large veins pulsated wider like snakes, but that black mamba was the center of the show. The amount of fluids it released onto my tongue was plentiful then, yet I managed to drink it all as if I had thirsted for it my whole life. I saw him lift his head and release a soft, deep groan. That was it! Knowing how sensitive the cock head felt, I managed to bring that Black stud close to a climax!
I put my all into it, bobbing my head harder and not minding the ache in my lips and jaw. My tongue gained a softer flick to caress the wet surface of his flesh at each cycle, and my hands pumped him more vigorously. He became hornier while witnessing my absurd eagerness to please, then released a louder moan. In a few instants, I was going to succeed; one of my dreams was about to come true.
The first blast of thick cum took me by surprise and made me flinch in place. I stopped bouncing my head and concentrated on suckling while my tongue toyed with the hole in the tip, cutting through the waves of spurting milk to continue making Travis feel pleasure. My hands slid up so that both thumbs rubbed the ridge for that extra flair. It was a wonderful experience to feel the blood rushing through such a veiny, rock-hard log.
I choked with a splatter of sperm that hit the back of my throat too hard, and at that moment I opened my almond eyes to continue eye contact with Travis' contorted expression. In my defeat, I was somehow victorious, all the while getting a stomach padded with cum. I recomposed myself and continued to swallow that savory meal.
When only droplets insisted on coming out, I also insisted on cleaning up and drinking them. Not a molecule of that load escaped my lips; I had claimed it all successfully.
“Fuck, man... this was way better than I expected,” he admitted and rested a hand on my wig, brushing it back to caress the side of my face. I grinned with the throbbing dick in my mouth. Unexpectedly, Travis turned to the side and I noticed a shadow approach on the wooden floor. “Oh, what up, girl?”
My eyes widened. I released him from my mouth with a pop and turned as well, shamefully taking in the sight of Kayla, who stood with a shocked expression beside us. For whatever reason, she had come earlier that day, and she had caught me drinking my first load of cum. Awkward!
Her incredulity came through the tone as she asked our bull: “What are you doing with my boyfriend?”
“You weren't around, so I let him distract me while you were gone,” he said, “but now you here, so I guess he done.”
“B-baby, it's fine, isn't it?” There was nervousness in my voice, although I idly jerked the cock I had so quickly become obsessed with. “Our relationship is open and all...”
She silently looked for a moment and snarled, eyebrows rising. “Sure, yeah, I just didn't expect this... at all,” she said.
I giggled softly. “Now I understand why you like Travis! Anyway, he's all yours,” I told her and stood up, rubbing my wet hands together before I pulled the panties back up. “I'll go take some photos with this outfit.”
“I can't spend time with Travis now. I'm here early to study for tomorrow's test,” she explained, complicating matters further.
“Oh.” I looked back at the bull, then back at Kayla. “Then... what should I do?”
“I don't know. Travis, do you want to go back home already?”
Travis shook his head. “Not really, nah. Think I'll spend the afternoon.” I knew what that meant.
“Then keep doing your thing with him, Jessica,” Kayla called me that name in a venomous fashion. That was the name she used to feminize me and humiliate me, to reduce me to a girl with a dick, something that teased me in a way I disliked. She was jealous of me spending quality time with Travis, and it showed. “I'll be too busy studying in the bedroom, so don't do too much noise.”
I eyed her with a slight disdain. “Okay. Have a good study,” I said as a formality. She shut herself in the bedroom and I was left in that reversed position, being the one making company for the stud while my girlfriend stayed locked in a bedroom.
“Hey, your girl sounded kinda mad at us,” Travis mentioned sarcastically.
“She's a little jealous, but she said it was fine for us to do things together, so... have anything in mind?” I ended the phrase suggestively, in the hopes that he would allow me to enjoy my own perversions at the very least, although his desires remained my priority.
“I just took your mouth's first, now think I wanna try that booty.” My hand instinctively grabbed one of my pudgy ass cheeks through the dress, imagining how a cock that much bigger than the dildos I used would ravage it. “Your girl don't like anal too much, so it will make up for her giving me shit whenever I wanna do it.”
In preparation, I breathed in and out, then smiled positively. “I'll love having your cock in my ass!”
