“Hi Mandy, I’m so glad you could come!”

I smile at Ben as sincerely as I can, as we “mwah, mwah” in greeting, but I’m already starting to regret coming to his party by myself. When Sandra cried off with a migraine that afternoon, I should have jumped at the chance of a night in with Netflix and a bottle of Pinot Grigio. On the other hand, I’d bought this green dress specially, and had my hair done, so I persuaded myself it might be fun.

But I knew as soon as I walked in the door that it wouldn’t be. The music’s too loud and too heavy, and there are far too many people trying to dance in far too small a space. Ben’s quite sweet in his way, but he’s more Sandra’s friend than mine, and though he makes me welcome, he’s clearly more interested in getting off with Donna Battersby. His tongue was down her throat just now, and she was rubbing her huge tits against his chest, so I reckon he’s in there. They’ll be shagging on the sofa before the evening’s out, I reckon. I’m already starting to feel all hot and sticky, but not in a good way. The only good thing is there’s plenty of booze, and if I’m honest I’ve been necking it a bit too quickly for the last hour or so. Someone was passing round a joint just now and that hasn’t helped. My head’s starting to throb out a Morse code message warning me to slow down, and I’m beginning to think I should listen to it for once. Cut my losses and go home to bed. I go to the kitchen to get some water, both to cool me down and stop me dehydrating too much. There’s a guy by the sink doing the same thing, so I wait my turn while he fills his glass and swills down a whole pint all in one. He’s about to pour himself another when he realises I’m there. “Sorry, love, after you,” he says, making space for me at the sink. I lean over to turn on the tap. I notice he’s blatantly staring down the front of my dress. Not that I can complain, since I chose it for that very effect. It’s cut very low and quite loose at the front, and I’m not wearing a bra, so he’ll be able to see quite a lot of my tits, even my nipples if he’s lucky. In my inebriated state, I care even less than usual, and deliberately fill my glass slowly, to give him time for a good look. I even give them a little jiggle, to enhance the effect. I flash a friendly smile as I surrender my place at the sink, and he grins back. He’s actually quite good-looking, in a slightly feminine-looking way, wearing a tight plain white t-shirt that shows off his well-toned upper body, and skinny jeans. I wonder if the rest of him looks as good. “That’s a nice dress,” he says, not slurring his words too much, “That colour really suits you.” “Thanks,” I say, taking a good swig at my drink. “It’s new. I bought it specially for tonight, though I don’t know why I bothered. My friend cried off at the last minute, and I don’t really know many people here.” “I’m sort of on my own too,” he says. “I know Ben from way back, but we’ve sort of lost touch recently. You know what it’s like.” I nod. “I know; he’s really a friend of Sandra – my friend – which is why I almost didn’t come.” I take another drink, and accidentally tip the glass too much, so a splosh of water misses my mouth completely, dribbles down my chin and drips straight into my cleavage. “Oh fuck,” I say, flapping at the front of my dress, the crudity slipping out. “Still, at least it’s cool.” That gives him the perfect excuse to stare at my tits again, which he does for longer than strictly necessary. I glance down at his crotch. I can’t see much of a bulge, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t something there, tucked neatly away. Small and soft can easily turn into big and hard, in my experience. There’s a bit of an awkward pause. I’m starting to think I’ll have to make all the running, when he blurts out, “D’you want to dance, then?” No, I don’t. I want to fuck. But if I leave it up to him, my itch might remain unscratched. “I don’t really like this music,” I say, “And it’s too loud. Why don’t we find somewhere quieter? Upstairs maybe.” I don’t even give him chance to answer, just take his hand and drag him out of the kitchen, through the sweaty heaving mob in the front room and into the hall. There’s already a couple snogging on the staircase, but I push past them with a brusque “excuse me”.  I’ve already worked out where I’m going, having got lost earlier while looking for the loo. There’s a locked room, then a cupboard, but past that is the bedroom that’s been designated as the “cloakroom”. I just hope nobody’s beaten me to it. Good. It’s empty. I pull him in, and kick the door shut. I put my arms around him. “Hello,” I say, “My name’s Mandy.” “I’m Harry,” he says, smiling. At least he’s got the message now. “Good. Now we’ve been introduced…” I open my mouth and pull his face down against mine. As soon as our lips meet, I stick my tongue in. He reciprocates, and soon we’re French kissing like it was going out of fashion. I feel his hand on my back, holding me against him. Then his other hand slides up between us and finds my tits. He mashes them for a while through my dress, then when I don’t complain he slips his hand inside and makes contact with the bare flesh. I make a little growl in my throat and press myself harder against him, showing him I’m happy with that. He finds a nipple and tweaks it between his fingers: a bit roughly, but I like that. Maybe he’s not such a pussy after all. I reach round the back of my dress and pull the zip down, then wriggle my arms expertly out of the straps so the top half drops right down round my waist, completely exposing my bare tits. Harry exhales with the words, “Oh fuck.” He strokes his hand over the left boob, then bends down and takes the nipple in his mouth. He sucks on it, massaging the hard bud with his lips and running his tongue round the dimpled areola. It feels really nice, and I let out a little sigh of pleasure. Then I feel his other hand start to drag my dress up. His fingers are rough against the warm firm flesh of my bare legs, and he strokes up until his fingers ease between my thighs and find my dangling prick and balls. Not surprisingly, that stops him in his tracks for a moment. He pulls his head away and stares at me. “What the fuck…” he starts to say. Fortunately, he sounds surprised rather than angry. It’s the angry ones who tend to push me away. Or hit me. I put a finger on his lips. “Please,” I say. “It’s not a joke. It’s real. And so are my tits. I’ve always had both. It’s the way I am. Please say you don’t mind.” I’ve been holding him, but I let him go, leaving him free to turn around and walk away if he wants to. I hardly dare breathe. He’s been holding his breath too, then he lets it out with a gasp. And smiles. “Wow, that was just a bit of a surprise,” he says. There’s another pause. “Can I touch it?” he asks. “I was hoping you would,” I answer truthfully. He kisses me, then starts to pull up my dress again. I lend a hand, and once it’s over my hips I push a couple of coats out of the way and sit back on the bed. My little prick is already getting hard, and Harry loses no time in putting his hand round the shaft and starting to rub it, drawing more blood in and drawing it to its full erect length of just under seven inches. I’ve had a course of electrolysis to remove all the hair down there (and in other places) and I like how wonderfully smooth everything is. 

“Bloody hell,” he says, “you really do have a full set.” I expect him to continue with his handjob until I ejaculate, but instead he gets down on his knees. “I’ve not done this since I was at school,” he admits. Then he leans over and takes the shiny knob into his mouth. If I’m being honest, it’s obvious he’s not that much of an expect at sucking dick, but I don’t mind at all. I can’t remember the last time a straight guy went down on me on a first date. He licks round the head and sucks on the shaft. I squeeze my thighs round his head and push my crotch forward, trying to press my prick deeper. Obligingly, he eases forward until most of me is in his mouth. Then to my horror I hear a whispering outside the door, and it starts to swing open. I find myself staring directly at a couple of girls who I remember seeing downstairs. They get a full frontal of my bare tits, and the back of Harry’s head buried between my thighs. From their point of view, it must look as if he’s performing cunnilingus on me. I smile sweetly at them. “Could you just give us a minute?” I say sweetly. “He’s nearly finished down there.” The girls giggle. One of them seems to want to stay and watch, but her friend pulls her away and the door shuts again. My erection hasn’t been affected at all by this interruption, and in fact I can feel my orgasm starting to swell up. Being interrupted was rather exciting. “Oh, that’s it, I’m going to come,” I moan, by way of warning, in case he doesn’t want my stuff in his mouth. Harry lets my prick slip out but continues to pump away at the shaft. “Yes, yes, that’s it,” I gasp. Then it happens, and I shoot my load. The first spurt splashes onto Harry’s nice white shirt, but he directs the rest of it down my thigh, thin translucent ropes of liquid. My ejaculate is usually quite thin, but there’s always lots of it, and it often shoots a long way. I fumble in my bag for some tissues, and quickly wipe up as much as possible of the mess from my leg. I offer one to Harry, and he dabs at his shirt. “Sorry about that,” I say. “Don’t worry, I’ll just tell people it’s salad dressing.” “I guess we’d better go,” I continue, “it looks as if there’s a queue for this room.” “They might just want their bags,” he points out, reasonably enough. There’s a little pause.  “Look,” I say, “I don’t mind if you do have to go, but my flat’s not far from here if you fancy continuing in a bit of privacy.” “Sure,” he says, with a shy grin. “As long as you’ve not got any more surprises up your sleeve, or anywhere else.” I dial for an Uber, and while we’re waiting by the roadside I explain briefly how I was born with external male genitalia, which proved in due course to be fully functioning, but with female hormones as well, and had developed breasts and a “feminine” shape in puberty. Fortunately, expert medical advice had been for my parents to allow me to develop naturally, and for me to be allowed to decide for myself in due course whether I wished to transition either way. My decision had been to remain as I was – I was comfortable with how I felt, and certainly able to deal with my active sexuality. Harry in turn explains that he’d sucked a few pricks when he was at school, but soon developed heterosexual feelings which had satisfied him up until then. But finding a prick on a woman who he already found sexually attractive hadn’t dampened those feelings at all, and he instantly wanted to give me pleasure. We kiss in the back of the Uber, and I stroke his dick through his trousers while he puts his hand inside my dress again and plays with my tits. As a result, we’re both horny as anything by the time we get to my flat.  We don’t even both going to the bedroom, but get down to business in the living room. It only takes a few seconds for me to kick off my shoes and take off my dress, while Harry strips as quickly as he can. I can’t believe how good he looks naked: nicely toned but not too muscly, and his dick is standing to attention, almost fully erect. It looks about 8 inches long, and quite thick. Harry takes me in his arms and kisses me hard, our tongues playfully intertwined. He cradles my left tit in his hand and massages it gently, playing with the nipple. I can feel his stiff dick rubbing against mine. “I want you to fuck me,” I murmur in his ear, “but you’ll have to do it up my arse.” “Oh god yes,” he answers. “Wait here.” I go to the bedroom and fetch the lube I keep in the bedside table. Squirting a big dollop into my palm, I take his dick in my hands and give his shaft a liberal coating. Then I hand him the tube. “Give me a good squirt in my bum,” I say. I get on my hands and knees on the sofa, my backside in the air. I can’t help letting out a little gasp as I feel the cool lube ooze out of the tube into my waiting hole. Then I feel Harry’s hands on my hips, and the head of his dick pressed against my tight bum-hole. I try to relax my sphincter as I feel his knob-head pressing against the little star, then with a squelch his knob slips in. He pauses for a moment, then eases forward. I feel his dick filling my arse, stretching the muscles with its thickness but its passage helped by the ample quantities of lube. “Oh god that’s amazing,” he says. “It’s so tight.” He starts to fuck me properly, going in as deep as he can so his balls slap against the top of my thighs. My own dick is hard now: sometimes I need to manipulate it to erection, especially if it’s the second of the day, but this time it’s stiff all by itself. I’m about to take it in my hand, but to my surprise and delight Harry reaches round and grabs it himself. “You’ve got a lovely dick, Mandy,” he whispers in my ear as he rubs it in time with his thrusts. I grasp my little tits instead and squeeze and pull at them, twisting my nipples until it hurts. I’ve never fucked anyone who seems to want all of me as much as Harry does, and it’s almost painfully wonderful. He’s going at it so hard that most of the lube is being squeezed out and dripping all down my legs and over the sofa, but he finds the tube, squirts a fresh dollop inside me, and then goes at it again. “Ah babe, I’m gonna come,” he moans at last. He lets go of my dick and grabs my waist, so he can pull me back against him as he rams into me as hard as he can. I can feel my own orgasm approaching, so I rub at my dick harder as he accelerates his own fucking. The bed’s rocking and creaking so much that I hope the people in the flat below don’t start knocking on the ceiling.  “Oh fuck,” he cries, as he gives one last massive thrust and shoots his sticky load deep inside my bum. I cry out as I reach my own orgasm, and cover the sofa in squirt after squirt of watery ejaculate from my aching dick. I collapse onto the cushions, feeling my own wet cum against my tummy, already starting to cool. Harry’s breathing heavily on top of me, and there is an audible “pop” as he pulls his dick out. I contract my sphincter, and feel a gooey mixture of spunk and lube ooze out and run down my thigh. He collapses next to me on the sofa, and takes me in his arms. “Fuck it, Mandy, that was awesome,” he gasps. “That’s the first time any girl’s actually asked me for anal. And you’re definitely the best.” “You were amazing too; I’ve never had a dick that thick up there,” I confess. We cuddle for a bit, wet and sticky and happy. I can tell Harry’s thinking about something. “Penny for them?” I ask with a smile. “You know, I’ve never actually had a cock up my own arse,” he says. I think we can do something about that.