Every Which Way

Once upon a time, I wrote a very long story in which a very thinly-veiled version of myself had sex with two women I was super into at the time. It never ended up happening that way — they both lived too far away from me — but hope sprung eternal.

Anyway, that story has sat on various hard drives and in various cloud folders for at least twenty years, until just last week when I finally decided it was time to start rewriting it.

My first step was to make the story more diverse. Instead of three white people, I changed one character to make her black and another to make her a trans woman. I haven’t yet decided if she’s had bottom surgery or not — the only trans woman I’ve played with (to this date) hasn’t had hers yet (I know she is planning for it), so in my head that’s how Suzanne, my trans character, is also built. At least, for the moment. I’m going to talk to some trans women and learn more about how sex is (or isn’t) different for them compared to AFAB women so that I can write the story more respectfully and accurately.

In the meantime, here’s what happened after my main male character, Andrew, had his first orgasm of the story. This part is from the point of view of Tina, the character who is a black woman.

Suzanne’s long, slender throat pulsed as she swallowed Andrew’s come before she offered me what had landed on her. His orgasms were copious, to put it mildly; there was always a lot of it, and I usually swallowed it because I didn’t want to make a mess.

The first time he’d ever come on me, covering me with it, I’d almost had an orgasm right along with him.

Once I finished Suzanne’s offering, I moved in front of her, my body pushing between hers and Andrew’s. I leaned down, my tongue starting at her stomach and working its way up. I’d only played around with other women — and never a trans woman — but in that moment, I was only thinking about Suzanne, not about what body parts she did or didn’t have. I wanted to kiss her.

So I did, tentatively at first.

She wasn’t feeling tentative at all. She took my head in her hands and pulled me in for a deeper kiss. I moaned and she swallowed it down; she tasted like Andrew’s come, which was a nice spice for an even nicer kiss, and when her lips opened I pushed my tongue into her mouth.

She seemed to like that. A lot. Most people do — my tongue is long and very strong, and I could sense Suzanne’s surprise when I brushed it against hers.

She pulled away and moved my head down to her chest. Her breasts were small, especially compared to mine, but I gladly pressed my face against them. She turned a bit and I took her left nipple into my mouth; it was hard and tight, and I scraped it with my teeth, which made her arch.

I thought that would be a good time to reach between Suzanne’s legs, to touch her more.

I was wrong.

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