Gay Pussy

I fucked a vagina.

In a time when I believed my ideal man would be this slightly-older, well-built, multi-lingual, curry-loving, masculine gay man with loads of passion of sports, cooking, intellectual discourse and sexual intercourse, I came across this guy through a common friend.

Alex and I were supposed to meet for a coffee or beer, presumably only for that. But I knew that we both had hidden intentions, to adore each other’s presence, possibly make out and just have a fun time together. But no, that didn’t happen. The relationship you see. I wasn’t fucking around town, though my then boyfriend assumed I was cheating on him. Oh, and we missed spotting each other in the overcrowded cafe-bar. But there still were hopes and assurances of meeting again. The boyfriend, rather man-friend and I broke up. Abruptly. Such a relief, I felt.

A week later, while I was browsing through non-sexual content on an otherwise sexually overloaded dating website, I stumble upon Alex in the vicinity. Curious as ever to take up conversation with strangers, I message him. We exchange words for about an hour, and finally decide to meet up at this super cool Queer bar with cheap drinks in town. Just down the road for both of us. The pink tapestry on the wall, the grandma-bags from India hanging in the air containing packets of home-baked chips and cookies, the odd queer folk bartending and chatting up people, the dykes in the smoking area killing the last fly of autumn, the bar-stools on the window front showing off the quirky ‘I love Vagina’-Superhuman-Lesbian cartoon on the wall, and the sips of warm and cold drinks, lips muttering words, revealing human emotion, laughter and bright teeth – this place was perfect to meet a transboy.

Did I say transboy? Yep. Trans-Boy.

Alex looked cute in his fuzzy porcupine look – sides shaven, a 1 inch buzzed mohawk in front, piercings on the lower lip, the ear-lobes and the left eyebrow. Such a cute fucker he is, I thought! Full of energy, enthusiasm, smiles and a charm that stupefies me even today, the boy’s mannerisms are like sunshine on a winter morning – cheers you up, makes you feel you’re having a ball and lets you forget life’s otherwise dreary stuff. We made brilliant conversation. And got aroused, by each other’s charisma and on a very superficial, yet human level, looks. We kissed. A couple of times. Had two huge mugs of tea and juice, and kissed again. I walked him down the road till the subway, bid adieu and agreed to meet up sooner or later. We had agreed not to go to my place for any further physical entanglement.

Being the curious me, I read up a bit about transmen and their sexuality. Even watched some queer porn to somehow figure if I could play the part of a gay man fucking a transguy. Cock and cunt? Let’s see, I said to myself.

The following weekend, winter had begun to show its sly face already. Thanks to a stormy autumn, there weren’t much leaves on the trees left, and the grass was fading in colour thanks to Father Frost. And I wanted to go out on a long walk to the woods around the lakes in town. Lovely deep woods, clean air, clear water that you could view from miles around the lakes, and sunshine on a cold, crisp winter day. Perfect weather, I thought, to ask Alex out for a hike. He said, he loves long walks.

We meet on the Sunday. Took the local train to the lakes. Got off at one of the lakes and decided to go along the muddy, rain-drenched mess of a path around to the woods on a hillock nearby. And walk ahead, like Johnny Walker says, to wherever our hearts take us. Conversations flowed like wine, more like sultry wine. We were both being cheerful, yet felt the sexual tension between us. Towards the Great Lake we went, and the sun was already on its way towards a beautiful setting. Another hour and there’d be no more solar power. The Great Lake shone in this wintry sun like a copper plate of vaste expanse, with various shades of rust, gold, silver, turqoise and jade amidst the reflections of the dimming fireball in the sky. How romantic, I thought. How fuckable, thought Alex.

We ventured through a ‘private property’ on the hillock facing the Great Lake. I wanted to see the sandy shores of the Lake and sit on a stone, watching the skies with the hottie next to me. And we did. Within couple of minutes we had our lips locked in each others, tongues exploring one another and the cold air didn’t seem to bother us any more. My erection was an immediate response to his lips, and I grasped his butt, bringing him closer to me, in response to his fumbling around with my erection. I slid my fingers into his pants, first from behind, then realizing that he had a vagina, ventured towards the front. It must be warm down there, like my straight friends have told me before. And it was. Sticky, oozing whatever warm juice it could, layers of muscle full of blood, warmth and wetness. My fingers felt a tingling. I had to discover the clitoris, the labia minora and majora, and finally get into HIS Vagina.

We were both prepared for any action, so we had enough protection in our bags, before I knew, he gave me a condom. I slipped it on, and he blew me for a while. In the meanwhile I figured a tree-stump was nearby, and pushed him towards it. He turned around and let his pants down, and I began fingering him, feeling up his warm cunt again. After a couple of times of trying to fuck him, we both realized, that it was too cold out at the Lake to actually have fun. Weather gave birth to reason, and we both decided to move the sex part to a sooner date, at my place, with all the peace and time in the world.

The following week, I had a day off work and had scheduled to meet up with Alex for a nice, long, relaxed sex-date. The boy came on time and before we knew it, I was venturing down his treasure trail to finger and lick his cunt-lips. I could’ve sworn it was almost like pre-cum. Only not salty as pre-cum might taste at times. Alex couldn’t wait to put a condom on my penis, and I was ready to fuck him. The first session lasted an hour, but we took breaks, since I kept losing my erection every five minutes. A touch of his magic hand, and my cock was erect again. I fucked him finally till I felt it was getting a bit tiring. And we were both in need of an orgasm. I finger-fucked him as he rubbed his clit, and we both came simultaneously. I mentally drew a glass bubble around us as we both hit our orgasms, for protection, against ‘astral invasions’ or any negativity. There was nearly an explosion in the room.

We then moved to the kitchen to grab some bread, freshly ground almond-butter and home-made jam, and a piece of my chocolate-poppyseed cake with whipped cream. The food was the second orgasm, in our mouths.

A bath in the tub, I suggested. And we both lay twenty minutes later facing each other in a tub full of warm water and foam, chatting and laughing away to glory. Till my feet accidentally touched his vagina again, and he let me play with it again. After the bath, we lay in each other’s arms, and soon – it was time for another fuck. This time, however, my penis would need no additional help to stay erect. He sat on my cock, facing me and the sexual machinery (including groans, grunts, moans, sweat, heat) started rocking the flat. Boy was I glad that it was a working day and that my neighbours were not to be seen! I did cum another time, yet ended fisting Alex’s boy-pussy till he reached his orgasm. The feeling of the contractions within the vagina, the warmth and the strength of those muscles – all of that was utterly new, yet amazing to me.

We bid farewell post the fuck. And decided to meet sometime soon again.

A couple of days ago, whilst sipping some filter kaapi on my couch, I could suddenly feel the warmth of his pussy, the wetness of the cunt, on my fingers. I was shocked, and began questioning myself, if I was really gay. I realized, that I was attracted to the man in him. The facial hair, the boyish looks and mannerisms, the voice, the cool-dude in him – that’s what turned me on. No wonder his lips and hands gave me an erection in a flash. Chemistry, no?

Trust me, if you were that boy, I’d make love to you like you’d never imagined before.

I, me, male-whore, cock-sucker. Now pussy-fucker. And I’m still gay. And you?

About the author

Srini

Distracted as ever - by life and its vibrant hues, Srini discovered writing recently when a bushy eye-browed Muse with luscious lips tickled his senses with her couplets. Fat man grew up to be a fitness conscious cook, a gardener by grandma's inherited green thumb and an Agnostic who used to believe in myriad rituals and gods and goddesses of the Southern landscapes, landscapes where rice paddies and Gopurams made people believe in the gifts of music, culture, art and nature's miracles. With a face that's expressive enough to throw off a couple of stubborn people off their stools, and an arse that can dance to drum and base, he's constantly trying to bridge his semi-German thoughts with his roots back in the Land of the Peppers. He writes, occasionally.