There were seven of us at the cabin that weekend, drinking, swimming, and cavorting. And when the sun went down, we built a campfire, and sat around talking about the issues of the day. It was intelligent talk for a bunch of inebriates. Politics, religion, current events, physics, even.
Somehow we started talking about "the gays". Everyone there was cool with homosexuality, or, if they weren't, they were smart enough to keep quiet. I wouldn't associate with bigots. I'd be a hypocrite.
While I wasn't gay, I was closely related, shall we say. But, we'll get to that in a minute.
Anyway, there were two couples, a gal without her boyfriend, a single guy and myself. The other guy, Charlie, and I, were eyeballing the young lady, because she looked hot in a bikini. But, she was showing very little interest in us, so, neither Charlie, nor I, pushed the matter.
Like I said, the conversation was dealing with society's difficulty in accepting men who loved men. And because we were an argumentative bunch of d***ks, we found ourselves with raised voices, even though we were arguing the same point. And just as things were settling down, I thought I'd throw some gas on the fire, and muddy the waters, if I can mix my metaphors. I brought up the question of gender identity.
You see, I am transgender. Well, not outwardly, anyway. I used to crossdress. A lot. And thee was a point where I considered taking hormones, and going full-time. That feeling has never gone away, even though I've learned to ignore it.
And I'm bisexual, too. And like my gender issues, I don't act on them any more. It's just impractical. And I haven't met any guys I've wanted to sl**p with, in a long time.
So, I threw out an anecdote about a female-to-male transsexual I used to know, who started out as a butch lesbian, started taking testosterone, and found himself to be attracted to gay men. He, and I, found it to be an interesting conundrum. And, it threw my friends around the campfire for a loop too.
I sat back and let them try to get their heads around gender identity, and sexual identity, and I revealed nothing about my own vested interests.
And eventually, they started getting tired, and dropped out of the conversation, to head inside. Eventually, it was just me and Charlie. He's a good ole boy, a couple of years younger than myself, and fit. Known him for years, and have never been attracted to him, but I think you know what's coming.
When it was quiet, and the lights were out inside the cabin, we sat there gazing at the fire, until he spoke up. "You're gay, aren't you?"
"No. I wouldn't say that." I didn't want to get back into the deep conversation about continuums and spectrums and labels, but I also don't want you to think I was trying to seduce him, so I simply answered, "You could probably say I'm bi."
"Cool," he said and lapsed back into silence for a while. Charlie was a good fellow overall, but not what I looked for in a man. A little too brash, and rough around the edges. And I can't I was surprised by his next remark.
"Would you suck my dick?"
"I dunno. Is that a request, or a hypothetical question?"
"What's the difference?"
"Well, if you were asking me directly to give you a blow job, I'd have to say no. But if you were asking if, given the right circumstances, I'd go down on you, I'd give a different answer."
"So, what, theoretically speaking, would be the right circumstances?" Like I said, Charlie is a good old boy, but he's not stupid. That's why our campfire discussions were so lively.
My tongue had been loosened by the alcohol, else I would have just denied liking sucking cock, and left it at that. But, I'd opened the can of worms, and decided to jump in feet first. To mix more metaphors.
"I'd have to say your motivation for a dick sucking would be a factor. I mean, are you just horny and want a blow job, or are you truly curious about what it would be like? Or are you, yourself, into guys. The difference is that I'm not into quickies or one night stands or anything like that. There's other factors too, but that's the one that comes to mind first."
"Oh. Well, I'm not really into guys, but yeah, I've wondered."
"Wondered what, exactly?" Jeez. Was I trying to seduce him? I seemed to be leading him down a path. An attorney would say I was leading the witness.
"Wondered if it was better than from a chick."
He hesitated for a while before continuing. "I've wondered what it'd be like to give one too. And wondered about fucking a guy in the ass. I don't know that I'd want to get fucked myself, but..."
I got up out of my camp chair and knelt on the damp grass next to him. Shit! What the hell was I doing? I hadn't sucked cock in about 3 years, and now I was setting the stage to give head to a straight friend.
"Do you want a blow job, Charlie? No strings attached. What happens here, stays here."
He stared down at me, his bright blue eyes catching in the dying firelight. "Yeah," he said, almost sheepishly.
I slid my hand up his jeans leg to his crotch. His dick was already hard. I never took my eyes from his face as I undid the button and unzipped him. His dick was maybe 7 inches, and thin. And beautiful. I gripped it gently, and stroked a couple of times, as I moved in closer, between his legs. "You can tell me to stop anytime, Charlie. Do you really want this?"
"Yeah," he sighed, and I moved in to take his head between my lips. God, I'd missed this!
I couldn't take him all the way in my mouth, because of his jeans, and the way he was sitting, so after a couple of up-and-downs between my lips, I pulled back, and motioned him to the ground. Down went his pants to his ankles, and soon, I was slowly sliding up and down on this beautiful cock, his hairy balls filling my hand.
I'd go down until my nose hit his pubic hair, and then pull back, giving his head a swirl with my tongue. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. His breathing increased, mine was labored. Largely because I had his dick in my throat. And I loved it.
But I wanted more. I wanted him to fuck me. Not here. Not tonight. But I wanted his cock in my ass. And I had an idea of how to get it there.
I stopped sucking, and looked at his face, "Do you want to come in my mouth?" He nodded, and I crawled up next to him. "I want you to come in my mouth, Charlie, but I want you to do something for me first too."
He looked a little panicked at that, so I reassured him, "I just want you to listen for a moment."
With my hand, I continued to stroke his cock, and I whispered in his ear, "I just want to share a fantasy with you, Charlie. You don't have to do anything but listen. You don't have to say yes, or make it come true. I want you to fuck me, Charlie, but not like this"
"I want it to be special. I want to be pretty for you. I want to shave my legs, and my chest, and I want to paint my toenails, and my fingernails. I want to put on lipstick and makeup, and have long red hair, and earrings and high heels, and lingerie. I want to be your girlfriend when you fuck me, Charlie, if just for one night."
I reached down with my free hand and felt my own hard dick through my shorts, as I continued to stroke his.
He said nothing, so I pulled my lips away from his ear, and moved back to his cock. As I deep throated him again, I felt his entire body tighten up, and I realized what was happening. He was almost ready. I pulled back so just his cockhead was between my lips and I applied suction.
Two seconds later, he came. It hit the back of my throat with f***e. I ran my tongue along the underside of his cock, and he spurted again. All else fell away as I became consumed with the taste of his cum. I'd missed this, and I'd missed the feeling of satisfaction that comes from making a man shoot his wad.
I rolled it around on the inside of my mouth, savoring it, before pulling off so I could swallow properly. And that's when he spurted again, hitting my nose, my cheek and my lips. It was so hot, I groaned involuntarily. I couldn't remember when the last time I let a guy cum on my face, and had forgot how much it turned me on. I collected what I could reach with my tongue, as he threw his arm across his face, and tried to catch his breath.
I sat back on my haunches, and waited. This could go bad, quickly. The first time a guy sucked me off, I was overcome with guilt and confusing feelings and pretty much bolted from the dorm room. I was so embarrassed by not only that first encounter, but by my reaction, I never spoke to the guy again.
The first time I sucked a guy off, he obviously had confusing feelings too, because he ran, but not before calling me a filthy cocksucker, and threatening to kick my ass.
But that guy was a stranger, and one of the reasons I didn't do quickies or one night stands any more. Charlie was a friend. And while he probably wouldn't turn violent, things could be awkward at the cabin in the future.
I was just about to ask him if he were okay, when he sat up. "So. You want to dress up like a chick and have me fuck you? How's next weekend?", he asked.