First Time Femme

by D. L. Savage

  She said it again: “Cum for me ...”

  And with my skirt falling down around my waist, covering my junk, I really and truly felt like a girl, like Jody’s big dick really was buried deep in my pussy. I let out a gasp, feeling a second orgasm welling up inside me, catching me off guard, even more powerful than the one from earlier, my body quaking as it hit, my muscles clenching and my ass clamping tight around Jody’s thick cock as the sensation flowed through me, my cock pulsing beneath my skirt.

  Just then, Jody let out a groan of her own, and she pushed her lips against mine, her tongue pushing deep into my mouth, her eyes closing in ecstasy and her arms wrapping tight around me. A second later I felt her cock begin to throb and unload, driven right to the hilt in my ass ...

  * * *

  “You wanna go back to the party?” she whispered as we both lay down on her bed afterwards. “Or we could hang out here a little longer.”

  “Let’s hang out here,” I replied, my voice still shaking a little, my head spinning as it sank in: holy shit, I’d just lost my virginity.

  I flopped back, closing my eyes for a moment, while next to me Jody lit the joint again, taking another deep hit.

  “Want to try again?” she whispered, the smoke held in her lungs as she nudged me with her elbow, offering the joint to me.

  And this time, as I took it from her, pulling lightly on it, I found I was just about able to hold the smoke in my lungs for a few seconds then let it out again without coughing like crazy.

  “What’s that smile for?” she asked as I handed it back to her.

  But it was impossible to put it it all into words. All I knew was that in that moment, there in her trailer, the fair lights shining above us, I’d never felt happier or more like myself, and I’d met someone I really liked and there was a party to go back to if we wanted and maybe just maybe this summer wasn’t going to suck after all ...

  Bully

  1

  “Another beer, Mitchell?” Leah asked.

  “Why not,” I replied, unable to stop myself from checking out her ample bosom as she leant in to pick up my empty glass.

  She'd only been employed at Sammy's for a month or two, but Leah had quickly become my favorite bartender. And it wasn’t just because she chose to go without a bra most nights.

  She was tall and striking too, with strong features and a toned, lean body. And while she was definitely on the bigger side than the chicks I normally went for (hell, she was almost as tall as me), at the same time, I found there was just something so fucking hot about her size and strength.

  Amazonian, that’s the word.

  She didn’t mind getting her hands dirty, rolling her sleeves up and carrying a heavy keg of beer up from the cellar or whatever, and I just loved watching her work up a sweat.

  Now don’t get me wrong, she definitely had her feminine qualities, too, with big pert breasts, thick toned thighs, and a peachy backside that I just longed to lay my hands on. And she was always showing off that amazing body in super tight outfits: tiny white vests that did little to hide her hard nipples and skimpy mini skirts to match.

  “Actually, Leah,” I added as she was making to pull me another draft beer, “I’ll take a bottle of the Rolling Rock.”

  Truth was, I hated that beer; it was weak as dishwater and didn’t taste a whole better. But I had my reasons, my mouth fighting back a leery grin as I watched her turn toward the beer fridge and bend over in order to reach the bottles of Rolling Rock on the bottom shelf, her perfect ass thrusting back toward me, causing my mouth to water as I stared at her tiny skirt stretched so tight across her butt that I could even make out the V of her thong disappearing between her butt cheeks.

  Oh boy, I thought, I what I'd give to pull up that skirt, tug her panties to one side, then drive my cock hard and deep into her tight wet ...

  “There you go, Mitchell,” Leah said, busting me out of my horny daydream as she set the beer bottle down in front of me.

  “Thanks, darlin’,” I replied, shooting her what I knew was a killer smile.

  But when I looked to her pretty face, as always her expression was totally unreadable; I had no clue whether she was into me or hated my guts.

  You see, normally I had a pretty decent success rate with chicks. My body was in the best shape it’d ever been in from all the construction work I’d been doing recently, and I knew I gave off that whole ‘bad boy’ vibe that usually got girls’ panties wet which meant I got laid whenever I felt like it.

  Shit, I’d even fucked a couple of Leah’s predecessors right here at Sammy’s (including one ditzy blonde chick that had sucked my dick just a few feet away in the goddamn washroom). So I knew I still had it with the ladies.

  But Leah was different. Not snooty exactly, but she was definitely what you might call aloof. She always had this snarky what-do-I-care look on her face, and she was always giving me the side-eye, like she was trying to figure me, a sarcastic smile occasionally tugging at the corners of her mouth, her perfectly-plucked eyebrow raised in some private joke or other.

  And from the way she acted, I suspected she was into some kinky shit in the bedroom, too. She just gave off that whole choke me, daddy vibe, and I suspected that if I just kept coming back to Sammy’s on a regular basis, sitting here on my favorite stool, sooner or later she’d fall for my charms.

  “Say, Leah,” I called out, catching her attention from the other end of the bar, and waving my half empty bottle at her, “I’m just gonna go take a leak. Watch my beer.”

  “Take your time,” she replied in a drawl.

  I eased myself off my stool and headed out back to the johns. It was as quiet as always in Sammy’s – which I always thought was weird considering it was situated in such a lively strip – but at the same time I certainly didn’t mind. Those faggy, pretentious hipster bars always made my skin crawl. But Sammy’s was the real deal; a place for honest working guys like myself to take some weight off after a long week at work with a beer (or seven).

  I reached the bathroom and stepped up to the urinal, unbuckling my belt then pulling open my jeans, taking out my cock and unleashing a satisfyingly powerful blast of piss. And as I stared down at my cock in my hand, I felt a surge of pride. It had always been my pride and joy; impressively thick and meaty, even when it was flaccid.

  Just as I was finishing up and washing my hands that I heard a strange sound: music, coming from the jukebox.

  Hardly anyone ever put songs on in Sammy’s, and this didn’t sound like the usual type of thing that got played either – less like classic rock or country and more like one of those trashy modern pop songs by some slutty singer like Katy Perry or whoever. But even worse than the music was the sight of the three hipster dudes who’d no doubt put it on, all standing right by my favorite goddamn stool, leaning over the bar and chattering away to Leah. One of them was black, one was tanned with blonde hair and one was ghost white with a shock of red curls on top of his punchable head, all three of them way smaller and skinnier than me.

  I felt myself gritting my teeth and clenching my fists as I strode back toward them, the testosterone pulsing through my veins.

  They stepped aside as I pushed between them, breaking up their girly little circle as I eased myself back onto my stool, then took a long pull on my beer.

  “What’s got into her?” I heard one of them – the redhead – mutter, obviously about me. And from the musical tone of his voice, it was clear that he was a fag.

  Quick as a flash, I found myself spinning around to face him, my brow furrowing and the anger spiking in my veins.

  “The fuck you just say?” I growled through gritted teeth, my fist curling even tighter, the veins standing out on my biceps.

  “Woah, chill,” the blonde dude added, reaching out and laying a hand on my shoulder.

  “Get the fuck off me,” I snapped, pushing his hand away and then raising my fists, ready to pop him one if he came an inch closer.

  “Hey, hey, Mitchell,
cool it ...”

  Leah’s soft sultry voice brought me back to my senses, and as I turned to the bar to face her, I saw her giving those three faggots a subtle nod, as if to say, You’d better leave.

  Sure enough, they did as she suggested, high tailing it out of there, while I picked up my beer and drained it in an angry slug, before slamming the empty bottle down hard on the bar, still wishing I’d knocked at least one of them out.

  “Here, let me get you another,” Leah purred, her big blue eyes looking at me now in a way they never had before.

  I watched as she turned once more to the fridge, bending over seductively, arching her back and slowly thrusting her perfect ass out toward me, no doubt knowing exactly what she was doing as she reached in and grabbed a fresh bottle of Rolling Rock, before turning and popping the cap then placing it on the counter in front of me.

  “This one’s on the house,” she added sexily.

  I felt myself grinning. So acting tough in front of those faggots had been what finally got Leah’s panties wet! Who woulda thunk it?

  I knew I needed to act fast, so before she’d even taken a step away from me, I said, “Say, Leah, you wanna grab a real drink together some time? When’s your next night off?”

  “Tomorrow,” she replied, a naughty grin tugging now at the corners of her full sensors lips; lips which I hoped would soon be wrapped around my cock …

  2

  Looking good, I thought proudly as I surveyed my reflection in the mirror as I waited for my cab to arrive.

  I’d made sure to shave (both my face and my balls), and I’d doused myself in my most expensive cologne, too. The black vest I’d picked out perfectly showed off both my tan and my ripped physique and I’d teased my hair up into a slick mess of spikes.

  Just then my cellphone buzzed in my hand, letting me know that my Uber was waiting outside. And it was only once I’d hopped inside and the driver double checked the address with me, that I began to wonder ... Wait … Are we going toward the Gay Village?

  Sure enough, as the cab drew closer to the bar Leah had suggested, I began to catch sight of rainbow flags flying from the buildings and dudes strolling along holding hands with other dudes, and chicks with shaved heads, and I felt my face starting to redden.

  Why the hell had Leah arranged to meet me here? I wondered, a part of me starting to suspect that our date was just some practical joke or whatever — that I’d arrive at the destination and she wouldn’t even be there.

  “This is it, buddy,” the driver said just then, pulling up to a stop outside the bar we’d arranged to meet in, which looked about as far away from Sammy’s as you could get, it’s gaudy sign lit up in neon pink and a bunch of fags huddled together smoking and laughing outside.

  I guess you could say I felt somewhat outside of my comfort zone as I pushed past them and made my way into the surprisingly crowded bar.

  There was some kind of commotion going on over on a small stage in the corner, where an unconvincing drag queen was badly lip-syncing to ‘Like a Virgin,’ her adam’s apple bobbing and a dusting of stubble visible on her jawline.

  I had to walk in front of the stage to get around to where the bar was situated, and as I did so, the drag queen blew me a kiss and everybody laughed.

  It was just at that moment that I finally caught sight of Leah, dressed in an insanely short black dress that clung to her perfect body, her long blonde hair flowing down around her shoulders, her pretty face made up to the nines, and her long bare legs crossed demurely as she perched atop a barstool.

  “Let me guess,” she teased as I finally reached her , “this isn’t the kind of place you normally go.”

  “Damn straight,” I replied, noticing she’d just finished her cocktail. “Draft beer,” I added, catching the bartender’s eye, “and another one of whatever the lady’s having.”

  “Oh Mitchell, you’re such a gentleman,” Leah laughed, shaking out her long blonde hair and catching me for a second in those big blue eyes, her big red lips pouting in a sarcastic smile.

  But I could tell that even though she was teasing, it wouldn’t be long before things got serious between us ...

  * * *

  We hung out at the bar for a few more drinks, and once she’d loosened up, she really did seem to be giving me all the telltale signs that she was into me.

  Occasionally I’d catch her baby blues flicking down to my biceps or to the meaty bulge in my jeans, and of course I couldn't help myself from checking her out either.

  She looked smoking hot in that tight black mini dress, and as always she wasn't wearing a bra, her hard nipples pressing through the fabric like the were just begging to be sucked on, her long, tanned legs fully on display, the criminally short hem of her dress barely hiding her panties.

  And a couple more of those cocktails, she’d told me practically her whole life story: how she’d grown up in a small town but never felt like she fit in, how she’d skipped college and moved to the city first chance she got, and how she'd worked in bartending her whole adult life – joking that she was a ‘lifer,’ and telling me how she was putting all the spare cash she earned into “working on her body.”

  “Well, it’s certainly paid off,” I smiled nodding at her toned frame, unable to stop myself from picturing her all sweaty in her tight workout clothes. “Maybe we could hit the gym together some time?” I added.

  She laughed and nodded, batting her long fake lashes.

  After another drink, we decided to hit up a few more bars, and as we made our way back onto the street, she took my arm as we strolled along the crowded, busy sidewalk like a real couple.

  Leah seemed pretty damn popular in this part of town, saying hey to a few people that we passed on the street.

  “I live right around here,” she explained with a shrug. “Actually, you wanna come up and see my place?” she added, almost as an afterthought.

  “I’d love to,” I replied quick as a flash, feeling my cock throbbing and the blood charging in my veins, realizing that I might be getting a taste of her sweet pussy even sooner than I thought ...

  3

  I’d been in apartments like Leah’s before: tie-dye pieces of cloth tacked to the walls, mismatched throws over the sofas, dream catchers dangling from the ceiling, all that hippy shit.

  “You want a drink?” she purred, kicking off her heels then padding over to the small kitchen that led off from the main living room in her bare feet.

  “Sure,” I called after her.

  And when she returned a moment later clutching two bottles of Rolling Rock, I thought: This must be fate (even though I didn't totally believe in all that mumbo jumbo).

  But as I took a long my first pull from the bottle, I felt the familiar call of nature.

  “Where’s your bathroom?” I asked.

  “Just down the hall on the left,” she replied nonchalantly.

  So I made my way down the hall, but on the way I saw that another door was open, on the right hand side, and as I got closer to it I couldn’t stop myself from taking a peek, staring in at what was clearly Leah’s bedroom.

  Holy shit, I thought as I clocked a set of black leather wrist restraints dangling from her bedposts. This bitch really is into some kinky shit.

  There was also a bottle of lube standing brazenly on the nightstand, and over in the corner of the room some kind of Styrofoam head with a blonde wig sitting on it, too.

  As I carried on down the hall to the bathroom, unzipping my pants and letting out a torrential flow of piss, I found myself wondering why the hell Leah would have a wig. Her own luscious blonde hair seemed like more than enough, but then at the same time I figured that she was kinda girl who probably got off on dressing up in costumes and whatnot …

  I shrugged it off, flushing the john the making my way back down the hall to the living room. And the moment I stepped inside, I knew for sure that she wanted it. She’d put some soft sexy music on the stereo system, and she was dancing away to it with her back to
me, winding her long sleek body, her dress threatening to ride up at any moment as she wound her hips in time to the rhythm, her booty swaying and the hem rising so damn high that I could even start to see the flash of the her bare tanned buttocks beneath.

  I felt my cock straining in my jeans, pressing hard against the denim as I strode over to her, my animal instincts taking over.

  She must’ve heard me approach, but even so she kept her back to me, and I knew this was my cue to make a move. As my senses filled with the delicious candy scent of her perfume, my hands reached around from behind, taking hold of her hips as she ground her booty back towards me, working it in time to the sexy propulsive beat, pressing her perfect butt right back into my rock hard cock. She let out a girly little moan as my hands slipped upwards, finally taking take hold of her breasts in both my palms.

  I knew immediately they were fake, hell, I'd known that the first time I saw them. After all, no chick could have such perfectly round titties. But even so, these were a class above, firm as hell with a satisfying weight, too.

  Leah let out another sexy moan, grinding her ass even harder against my cock as I tugged and tweaked at her rock hard nipples.

  “You know what I want do right now?” she purred, turning around and pushing her face close to mine, close enough that our lips were brushing in an almost kiss.

  “What’s that?” I replied, my voice taught with lust.

  “I want ...” she whispered, pushing closer and stealing a quick kiss from my lips.

  “... to suck …”

  She kissed me again, harder this time, pushing her plump red lips hungrily against my own.

  “... your dick.”

  As she said these last words she dropped to her knees, reaching out and unbuckling my belt then tugging open my pants in one smooth, expert motion as I gazed down at her in awe.