A Femboy Fairy Tale [romantic] [MM] – Short Sex Story

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**Author’s note: I am an afab bisexual who enjoys reading & writing from numerous gender perspectives. If reading gay content from female writers isn’t your thing, feel free to move on quietly. Respectful feedback all the time welcome.**

*Content includes: femboy, straight-to-bi discovery, oral, anal, fingering, handjob, tucking, oil, interracial (NOT raceplay), romance, happy ending*

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It had been a while since I had been to a house party that great. Something about hitting our later twenties, getting careers, getting married, having kids, and actually owning our own houses seemed to have put a bit of a damper on my friend group’s proclivity towards cutting loose. But when Damian turned 30 we all seemed to collectively set apart our reservations. We partied like we were 21 again, the booze flowed freely (and not the cheap swill we used to buy as students, thankfully), and they were passing joints around in the backyard.

Damian’s parties were all the time the best, and he drew quite a crowd to that one. It’s a diverse mix in terms of colors and cultures, though not so much in terms of ages, all of us being in the 25-35 range. It was all the time nice not being the token black guy at a party. I knew maybe half of the people present, but I made some new friends over the night, flirted with a few cuties, drank and danced and drank some more. I went into the kitchen at around eleven for a fresh drink even though I clearly didn’t need more, and that’s when I saw her for the first time.

Her darker blonde hair was cut to chin length, she wore it in loose waves that framed her delicate face in a way that begged to have fingers run through it, to draw her in close for a lingering kiss. Her lips were pouty, in a cute rather than bitchy way, glossy and cherry red. Her makeup was expertly applied and her heels were plenty high, just slutty enough to look like she’s gonna a party but still classy. I was entranced by her shining sequin dress and sparkling blue eyes in equal measures; it was hard to keep from staring as I played it cool and started mixing myself a drink.

“Have you ever tried a mojito?” I asked. Not my greatest pick-up line but hey, I was hammered. Give a guy a break.

She smirked knowingly. “If I say yes, will you make me one?” she asked in return as she cocked one of her perfectly plucked brows at me. She had one of those sultry, slightly hoarse-sounding voices that drive me absolutely wild.

I don’t remember much of that first conversation. I remember trying to play it cool, though my heart felt like it would beat out of my chest when she complimented the mojito, when she rested her hand casually on my upper arm, when she suggested that we go dance. She threw her head back charmingly when she laughed, a deep, real laugh that only made her sexier, revealing a shiny rhinestone choker necklace around her neck. She had long acrylic nails and the softest hands I’ve ever felt, and I was helpless to withstand as she dragged me onto the dance floor.

Despite being 6’2 while she’s barely 5’6 in heels, our bodies were in perfect sync as we danced together. Or maybe that was just my perception in my drunken state. Either way, I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. She had one of those pear-shaped figures that are absolutely irresistible to anyone who’s a sucker for a great ass, like I am. Her chest was a little on the flat side but hey, I’m a progressive sort of guy. All boobies are gorgeous, and I don’t mind the little ones. Her ass, though, was anything but little.

I eventually realized that I should probably learn her name if I want this to go anywhere. “I’m Charmaine,” I introduced myself, having to lean in close for my voice to carry over the thumping dance music. “What’s your name?”

She leaned in to answer, but her quieter tone got a little lost in the music. “Ella?” I repeated, uncertain if I heard it right. She hesitated for a moment before she nodded so maybe she couldn’t hear me clearly either, but I wasn’t too bothered by it. I was having too much fun moving my body and watching hers move too. She knew just how to use it, and if Shakira was right and hips really don’t lie, I knew I wasn’t going home alone tonight.

Eventually, worn out by all the dancing, she excused herself to the ladies’ room and I headed back into the kitchen in search of water. Damian was by the sink refilling his own drink, and he clapped me on the back as I came to join his group. “How’s it feel to be thirty, man?” I asked him, grinning as I noticed a couple of grey hairs at his temples.

“Having a blast so far!” he confirmed, though his tone grew serious as he leaned in closer to me. “Speaking of which, it looks like you’re having a great time dancing out there. I’m not judging or anything, but I am a little surprised. I mean after Claire, I thought…”

I laughed off his concerns with a noncommittal shrug. “That was a month ago, man. I’m good, it’s just some dancing at a party. I’m open to what the universe sends my way, you know?” I said casually, trying to brush thoughts of my ex-fiancee apart. Her breaking up with me was still a bit of a sore spot, but I didn’t come to the party to nurse old wounds.

“I’m happy for you, man. Really,” Damian said, squeezing my shoulder. I would have said more to him, but some of the other guests joined us and started trying to cajole the birthday boy into a round of beer pong, so I excused myself before I could get suckered into it too.

Once Ella came out of the bathroom we made our way into the backyard and joined the circle around the campfire for a bit, taking a few puffs each as the joint came around. Once we were high enough to be giggly we separated from the group and wandered off further into the backyard. Damian lived at the far edge of the Denver suburbs, far enough out that his backyard was half-wilderness, with a couple of benches and other private areas tucked in among the rocks and trees. I was genuinely impressed that Ella could navigate this terrain in her high heels, though I did offer her my warm jacket. Despite it being summertime the mountain air was pleasantly chilly after dark, and her dress was tantalizingly thin.

I lost track of time completely out there on a secluded bench with her. We stared up at the stars through the trees, at least when I wasn’t staring at her instead, and we talked about everything from space travel to our favorite shows to the places we wanted to travel to. City life suited us both well, she was especially happy to have an apartment right over her favorite cafe in town, Leroy’s – also my favorite. We went to the same university, though I graduated the same year she started and she said with a little laugh that I probably wouldn’t have liked her back then. I showed her a picture of my pug and she showed me a picture of her three-legged calico cat.

I had never met a girl who was that easy to talk to, who laughed at all my little quips and rested her head on my shoulder and let me rest a hand on her thigh, feeling her velvet-soft skin under my fingers. She almost glowed in the moonlight and I had never seen anything so gorgeous before. Even crossfaded as we were, we were both aware enough to know exactly what we want, and uninhibited enough to go for it.

I was trying to be smooth and pull a move on her, but to my surprise she was the one who took the initiative and grabbed my bulge before I had a chance to figure out what sort of panties she was wearing. I moaned a little as she started to stroke me through my jeans, smiling as she found me already sporting a half-chub before she even got started. She knew what she was doing, and in no time at all my pants were uncomfortably tight.

She got down onto her knees and I stood up, letting her undo my pants and pull them down. My hard dick sprang out, all nine thick uncut inches of it, the purple tip shining slightly in the moonlight. One of her hands cradled my balls, her long, hard nails just tickling them, while the other grabbed my ass. I’ve all the time loved the feeling of a woman’s nails on my bare skin and when I shivered, it wasn’t because of the temperature.

Her warm mouth was still a gorgeous contrast from the chilly air, her pale skin a gorgeous contrast against my dark, her submissive position on her knees while I stood above her, finally running my fingers through that blonde hair. My thighs trembled as she took me all the way into her mouth in a single smooth motion. My toes curled in my shoes as she swallowed the head of my cock, deepthroating me without any hesitation.

“Fuck, Ella,” I muttered, my cock throbbing with lust as she ground her nose into my crotch, my balls resting on her chin. I didn’t know girls like this existed outside of porn, and I was thrilled. It was hard holding my load back, but the booze helped with that. I didn’t have whiskey dick, but it was a good thing I was pleasantly numb or I might have been a two pump chump.

If there were olympics for sex acts, Ella could have taken home the gold in cock sucking. She worked it like a champ, needing no help from her hands to pleasure me from root to tip. Her tongue and lips knew just what to do, wrapping around my shaft and flicking along the underside, working the head when she had to pause to breathe. I was in heaven, and had to work hard to keep my breathing steady and focus on making the pleasure last. She had no issue at all with no length or girth, a first for me. I loved high-maintenance women like her with their nails and hair perfectly done, perfect attention to detail with their outfits and their makeup and their accessories, but it wasn’t usually a personality type that was enthusiastic giving head.

Hell, Claire didn’t have my dick in her mouth for this long over our entire engagement. I was lucky if I got two minutes of her attention before her jaw hurt or she got bored, but Ella was focused and uncomplaining. She hadn’t even said a word since she began. Emboldened by her fortitude, I tightened my grip on her hair a bit and began to rock my hips in time with her movements, just testing the waters. The enthusiastic moan that hummed around my cock was all the encouragement I needed, and I began to thrust more vigorously. It wasn’t long before I was fucking her gorgeous face, an expression of utter bliss written across her delicate, almost elfin features. I’d never seen a woman get off on sucking dick before, and that was it for me.

“You want my cum?” I asked as I continue fucking her. She had both hands on my ass then and they both tightened, her nails biting lightly into my skin as she moaned her affirmation while staring up into my eyes. I nearly felt my soul leave my body as my orgasm began, my cock pulsing with sheer pleasure as it shot rope after rope of hot, sticky cum down her throat, every drop swallowed without hesitation. I grunted with the force of it, only managing to hold back a moan because I knew we weren’t far from the smokers around the campfire.

I collapsed onto the bench when it was finally finished, pulling her up next to me. Both of us took a minute to catch our breath and, in my case, to give my head a chance to stop spinning quite so badly. “That was amazing,” I said, idly stroking my hand down her shoulder, trying to reach around so I could slide my fingers under the top of her dress. I might have just cum, but I wasn’t selfish. “You’re the most beautiful girl at this party, Ella, you know that?” I asked her, and truly meant that even though my hand wasn’t really feeling much in the way of a titty as it started roaming under her dress. “I’m going to eat that pussy like groceries, girl, I’m going to show you the time of your life,” I promised as my fingers finally located a small, cute nipple.

I felt her freeze under my hand and, before I even had a chance to ask what was wrong, she stood up and pulled out her phone. “Oh, uh, actually I’m all good,” she said awkwardly. I could tell I had done something wrong as she tapped a few times on the screen before taking off my jacket. She handed it to me with an uncomfortable smile. “I had a lot of fun, really, but I – but it’s late and I should be heading home anyway.”

“Ella, hold up,” I tried to insist, but she was already heading back towards the house. I started to go after her, then remembered that my pants were still around my knees. “Shit,” I muttered, drunkenly struggling to dress again before I could hurry after her. I saw a silver stiletto shoe in the grass and realized she must have lost it in her hurry inside. The crowd around the campfire was staring at me like I did something wrong back there to make her run like that, which I guessed was a fair enough assumption, but I still had no clue what was wrong.

She was already in the house, so I was left to trail behind like a lost puppy. “Ella!” I called after her, but she ignored me, squeezing nimbly through the crowd. My shoulders were much too wide for that so I had to edge through sideways, apologizing as I bumped into people left and right. “Ella, wait,” I pleaded, reaching the front door just as her rideshare pulled up. She glanced over her shoulder at me, a stricken expression on her pretty face, but climbed into the backseat and left before I had a chance to apologize.

Feeling almost dazed, I watched her leave and just stood there for a minute, going over the events in my head. Was it the compliment? Did she hate having her nipples played with? Didn’t want me to give her head? Both? I left the party not long after, still in the dark about what exactly went wrong.

On the way home I started pouring through social media, looking through Damian’s insta, twitter, facebook, even his LinkedIn for Ella, but he didn’t have her added and my broader searches turned up a shocking number of Ellas in the Denver area. Perhaps, I reasoned with myself, I should just let it go. Still she was the last wondered on my mind before I went to sleep that night, and the first thing on my mind the next morning. I took a shower and some painkillers for the hangover, wondering what I need to do.

A smarter man might have just let it go, but I had never felt that instant connection with another person before. Claire was nice -well, to look at- but I all the time felt sort of like I was doing what I need to do with her, she didn’t make my heart race the way Ella had. She definitely didn’t make me cum that hard. In the end I was stubborn, I was horny, and I still had her shoe. I decided to head to Leroy’s on the off chance that I ran into her there, since she mentioned living right above it, and just for the hell of it I stopped off along the way and bought a dozen red roses. An apology gift, just in case.

I paused across the street from Leroy’s and looked up at the six story apartment building above the street level shops. It wasn’t a very wide building, maybe only four apartments per floor, but that’s still a bigger number than I had hoped for. Then I saw a calico cat in the southwest window on the third floor – I looked closely and sure enough, it was missing a leg.

I was beyond relieved when the exterior door to the building wasn’t key-carded. The elevator was, but the staircase was open so I took the steps two at a time, roses in one hand and the silver shoe in the other. I reached her floor and knocked on the door on the southwestern side, hoping that I’d guessed the right one. I stepped back a little so I wouldn’t crowd her, just in case she was still put off.

My heart was racing in my chest, and almost stopped when the door finally opened. It was Ella! In broad daylight her hair was even brighter, her eyes even bluer – but her face looked different without the makeup. She was dressed in a plain grey t-shirt and sweatpants. I noticed the bulge there and the small but distinct Adam’s apple at the same time, and then I don’t know which one of us looked more surprised to see the other. “Ella?” I asked, for lack of anything else to say.

They awkwardly took the shoe and shook their head. “Elon,” they say quietly in a voice that is almost familiar, but without the feminine inflection from last night. We stared at each other for a minute and I couldn’t think of anything to say, my mind was completely blank. “Do you, uh… do you want to get coffee?” they finally asked.

“Uh… yeah, sure,“ I agreed, and awkwardly handed them the shoe. I considered the roses for a second, no longer certain if I wanted to give those too, but then I realized that I didn’t want to be holding them in Leroy’s either. I offered them up and Elon cautiously took the flowers too. They set them down and grabbed their wallet and keys from a small table by the door, where I noticed the purse from last night.

The break for coffee was a welcome relief as it gave me time to process, time to think. I was straight, and I was pretty sure of that, at least until that point. I liked girls, pretty ones, with thick booties and soft hands and medium-length hair and flat chests and expensive tastes and-

“I’ll have an iced vanilla latte,” Elon ordered. The need for coffee drew me from my thoughts.

“And I’ll have an americano,” I add, pulling out my card. I paid for both coffees without really thinking about it. There were so many questions racing around my mind as we waited for our drinks, but I didn’t want to ask any of them in public. Apparently satisfied that I wasn’t gonna totally come unhinged about the whole thing, Elon invited me back up to their place to chat.

Their apartment was small but well decorated, a bit messy but full of miscellaneous geeky and feminine decor. The calico cat came over to greet me. I gave it a scratch behind the ears and tried not to stare at Elon’s ass as they cleared some space for us to sit at a small table by the window. Even without makeup, they had a very androgynous face, no beard or moustache as far as I could tell and neatly plucked, feminine brows. In the context of the masculine clothing, it was easy to read it as a dude’s face. But in the context of makeup and shiny jewelry, I don’t think I would be the only one fooled.

“So I’m a dude,” he said after a minute, breaking the ice.

I let out a shaky breath and nodded. On one hand, that saved me from having to ask an awkward question. On the other hand, that now made it official: I had gotten my dick sucked by a man in a dress, and I had loved every second of it. “So at the party, the whole Ella thing…?” I asked, not quite sure how to phrase it.

Elon took a long sip of his coffee, and the way his lips wrapped around the straw made the blood rush to my cock. “You seemed to be having a good time,” he excused it, weakly. “I didn’t plan on things going that far at the time. I like dressing up like a girl sometimes, feeling pretty, getting attention from guys… I don’t usually do it at straight events.”

“Well I’m straight,” I said, and then I was the one making weak excuses. I frown into my coffee and try to think of something better than that to say. “So you dress up for parties, but you’re not a girl. So you’re not trans, you’re like… a drag queen?” I asked awkwardly, suddenly wishing I’d paid a bit more attention when my sisters were watching RuPaul’s Drag Race. Maybe then I’d know what words to use for this kind of stuff.

“Uh… not really. I do tuck, sometimes, but it’s more like crossdressing. I like the word femboy,” he explained. That just left more questions than answers in my mind.

“Tuck?” I asked.

“Like, tuck my junk away?” he explains, taking another sip as he thinks. “You push your balls back into your body, then tape your dick between your legs, basically. It makes it all flat and smooth down there, under panties.”

I should have moved on to the next topic, but I was inexplicably fascinated. Confused, but fascinated. “I don’t – I’ve never heard of that,” I chuckled. “I can’t even picture what that would look like…”

Elon hesitated for a moment, then, apparently spurred on by my reaction so far, offered hesitantly, “Would you like to see it?”

I took a long sip of coffee after that question, wishing I had something stronger. This felt like a conversation that would be a lot more fun drunk. “Yeah okay,” I agreed, not entirely sure but curiosity winning out over caution. That, and my dick was more than a little excited by the possibility. I tried to convince myself that it was just the memory of that blowjob last night, but if I was being at all honest with myself I would have to admit that I was *very* willing to see Ella -Elon!- naked, even if it wouldn’t be what I had expected.

I followed him back into his bedroom, leaning myself against the doorway in a noncommittal fashion while he brought out a box of supplies. His back was turned to me when he took his top off and my breath caught in my chest as the morning light spilled across his pale, perfect back, and then he dropped his pants too. With the sheer privacy curtains drawn no one could see inside, but I could see *everything* bathed in the golden morning light. His ass was as gorgeous in person as it had been under the dress, round and full with little dimples above it, positioned as though to direct my attention to the tantalizing, hairless cleft between two perfect cheeks.

His legs were hairless too, from shapely thighs to slender calves – in fact, I couldn’t see a single body hair on him. He turned around and was no different in front, from his girlish chest with dainty little pink nipples (that were hard as rocks despite his apartment being comfortably warm, I couldn’t help but notice) to his balls. And to my surprise, he was proportionately almost as well-endowed as I was! Not quite equal to mine, but respectably sized for someone with a much smaller frame.

I had never encountered a penis in a sexual situation before and didn’t quite know what to think. I had never looked at one in porn and wondered much of it, but this wasn’t some cartoonish porn dick, this was pink and soft and hairless, oddly feminine like the rest of him. Not intimidating, but still big enough that I had no clue how he was gonna make that *flat*.

Then he laid down on the bed, opened his legs, and I felt my jaw drop as he expertly pushed his balls back up into his body, one at a time, and then just kind of squished everything backwards and held it in place with a couple of pieces of medical tape. A few more pieces secured everything and completed the illusion, and then he pulled on a pair of black lace panties and stood up, only the tape visible around the edges giving any real hint that something was unexpected there.

“Wow,” I said quietly. I didn’t know what else to say. With his penis tucked away, with those panties on, with his hair still bed-messy and a nervous but hopeful look on his face, I had trouble seeing him as Elon. He still had the acrylic nails on and everything.

“You can call me Ella, if you want,” he offered using his girl voice, as though reading my mind. “What do you think?”

“I think,” I replied cautiously, “that you’re still the most beautiful person at the party last night. I’m not gay, but I would love to spend more time with Ella, if that’s an option.”

He bit her lip for a moment as she considered it. “You did bring my shoe back, and roses… what more could a femboy want?” he asked with a little smile.

I stepped forward and began to kiss him. It was cautious at first, but as confused as my brain was, my other head didn’t have any reservations. The kiss grew deeper until, before I quite knew what was happening, Ella helped me take my shirt off. My shoes and pants quickly joined it on the floor and I laid down naked on his bed. He crawled between my legs, planting little kisses and dragging her hair along my thighs until my cock was hard enough to hurt, twitching for attention.

After teasing me until a drop of pearly precum formed at the tip, he swallowed my cock in one easy motion. It was even more mind-blowing the second time and I moaned openly, breathing hard as he dragged his long acrylic nails up my thigh. He almost immediately set a fast pace, deepthroating me with the ease that comes from practice, a lot of it. The image of him sucking me off last night dressed completely as a girl popped into my mind. I pictured the way the dress pulled tight over his generous booty, pictured his taped, tucked dick hiding behind a sexy pair of panties, and the wondered almost made me cum.

Once he had me on edge he pulled away, giggling as he looked up at me and licked his lips. “You want more?” he asked, his voice a bit more husky after taking nine hard inches down his throat. “Or do you want to fuck me?”

I couldn’t say no to an offer like that, anal had all the time been a particular kink of mine, one that the sort of girls I’m into wouldn’t even consider. “Sure,” I agreed. He rose up onto his knees as he grabbed a bottle of coconut oil, then positioned a pillow under his hips and layed down with his legs slightly parted. From this angle it was all but impossible to tell if he was male, female, or something else entirely; the focal point is his ass and I could barely look away.

I took a small pour of coconut oil and warmed it between my hands, then began rubbing it all over his butt, massaging it in as I admired the softness and smoothness of his skin. I thought if he’s been lasered or if he used chemicals – there’s no way he would still be that smooth if he shaved last night. Once he’s sighing and squirming I finally ran a finger down his crack, then added a bit of oil. I started massaging the oil against his hole, added a bit more when I felt it begin to part, and then pushed my finger in with it. His ass took my finger easily so I pulled it out and added another bit of oil before his hole could close completely, enough that my finger made a satisfying squishing noise when I pushed it back in.

It felt so different than a pussy, the ring of muscle tighter but the passage beyond just warm and soft and welcoming. I decided to take my sweet time exploring this, wanting it to be something special. When I curled my finger towards his belly button I felt him clench and heard a soft moan, so I did it again. And again. “A little deeper,” he asked, and the lust in his voice was enough to make my cock throb so of course I had to obey.

I add a second finger and curl them both now, pushing that pleasure button inside of him until he’s squirming and moaning and I’m so hard that I feel like I’ll explode if I hesitate any longer. “Are you ready?” I asked him softly. When he nodded I withdrew my fingers, admired the way his hole twitched for a moment before closing, then began slathering up my raging erection with coconut oil.

I carefully lined myself up with his hole, relishing the way it puckered to kiss the tip. The sensation of sliding into him was unreal and I just kept going until I was buried all the way inside, my hips pressed up against his big round ass, my hands on either side of his narrow shoulders. He was facedown on his belly, head turned so he could just barely look back at me. I loved the pink glow on his cheeks almost as much as the look of pure lust in his eyes. I was amazed that he could take me on the first thrust like this, after only some fingering for warmup. I’d never been with a woman that could manage that.

“You feel so fucking good, Charmaine,” he purred beneath me as he clenched his sphincter around the base of my cock tightly. I shuddered in pleasure as I withdrew, feeling it cling to me like it was trying to milk my cum out.

“So do you, Ella,” I murmured back, leaning down with my next instroke and taking his earlobe in my mouth, nibbling it softly as I set a slow, gentle pace. I was so sensitive after he edged me with the blowjob that I didn’t dare go any faster just yet, I wanted to make it last. I explored his ears and neck, finding all the best places to plant little kisses and bites. All of the cute noises he made, his sharp breaths and gasps, were almost as good as the way it made him tighten his hole even further.

Eventually I got used to the pleasure and began to pound him harder, but the oil was wearing a bit thin by that point so I pulled out to lubricate. “Want to lift your hips up?” I suggested, waiting for him to get on his hands and knees before pouring more oil over both his hole and my cock. I noticed that some of the tape near the back was starting to come loose, probably from the oil, but I didn’t want to stop long enough to point it out or fix it.

I plunged back into him, hard enough to make him grunt and then moan in pleasure. I was fucking him in earnest then, feeling his hole relax completely, yielding to my pleasure. It was so good that I almost didn’t notice the tape coming off… almost. Once things started swinging around down there, it was impossible not to. The sensation of our balls bumping together was naughty, almost taboo, and inexplicably hot. It was impossible not to imagine the size difference between them, his smaller sack dominated by mine as surely as my shaft was dominating his tight little ass.

But I stopped when I heard him wince and suck air through his teeth. “You alright?” I asked in concern.

“Yeah, uh, the tape is just coming off and it’s pulling things in a weird way,” he explained awkwardly, not trying to move away just yet. “I can fix the tape, I’ll just need a minute.”

I hesitated, but not for long. “Just take it off then,” I said, backing off so he has enough space to work. He rolled onto his back to carefully peel it off, and I couldn’t help but notice that his cock was half-hard and well coated in precum. It was crazy hot to me, inexplicably, and when he started to roll over again I put a hand on his knee to stop him, gently guiding his legs up instead. “I want to see your face when I make you cum,” I said as I guided his hand to his dick.

I didn’t stop to watch him but just slid right back inside his hole, now in missionary, grabbing the headboard of his bed for extra leverage so I could pound him harder. The sound of his hand beating him off only spurred me on, and it wasn’t long before the combination of sensations had him moaning on the verge of climax. I wondered I would be able to hold off and make it last even longer, but when he came his ass started contracting rhythmically around me and I didn’t stand a chance. I moaned loudly as I pumped his bussy full of cum while his own splattered onto his chest, one shot even going a bit high and catching him right in the face.

I was so exhausted afterwards that I collapsed onto him, so sweaty and oily that I didn’t mind getting covered in cum either. I stayed there until I caught my breath, but I didn’t want to let go of him just yet so I rolled over and pulled him on top of me instead. I could feel his cock against my thigh, hot and smooth and still half-hard, but I didn’t mind it.

“So, about being straight…” he mentioned with a breathless little giggle.

I shrugged. “I don’t give a fuck what they call having a femboy girlfriend,” I said, kissing his head and smelling his soft hair.

“Girlfriend?” he asked, cautiously.

“Boyfriend. Femboyfriend. Whatever. If that’s what you want?” I asked back.

“Yeah,” he said after a little pause, and I could feel his face smiling against my chest without having to see it. “Yeah, I want that.”

NSFW: yes

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