A New Year's Resolution

Sitting on the pot, I had my eyes on the floor in front of me as she came in. I didn't want to look up. I was too confused. I'd fucked a guy! Sure she was a guy with tits and a great ass-fuck, but still . . . she was a guy! Her pretty, petite feet came into view. They were small and definitely very feminine. They weren't a guy's clod busters, they were a girl's feet, for God's sake. What kind of a guy was she? A gay – I didn't use the word "queer" – or . . . she was a very feminine guy, I answered myself. A fucking good-looking gay guy. Shit! What am I about to let myself in for?!

"Um . . ." I paused, I couldn't believe I was about to do this, but she was too good a thing to pass up, "um, can I have your number? M-m-maybe, we could, you know, um . . ."

"YEE-HA-A-A!!" she shrieked, "you like me! You really, really like me!"

She wrapped her arms around my head and hugged me to her small, nicely-shaped breasts. When I leaned back in surprise, she dropped into my lap, straddling my thighs and rubbing her little prick against my belly giggling like an idiot. Her soft lips landed on the top of my head, on my ears and, when I looked up to try to stop her, pressed them to my lips, opening her mouth and sucking my tongue deep. God, she kissed great. I found myself responding in spite of my reservations.

"Um-m-m," she moaned, reaching down and pulling up my piss-dripping cock.

She giggled and slid back and off my lap, sitting on the back of her heels as she knelt between my feet and hefted my cock up to her wide-open mouth.

"Um-m-m-m," she moaned again, pushing my foreskin back and licking the piss off the inside and top of my prick-head, "don't worry, I'll brush my teeth after," she stuffed my hard prick in her mouth and swirled her tongue around it a couple of times before pulling back off it, "and I'll use your wife's toothbrush," she giggled and hunched her shoulders like a naughty little girl.

"Ah-h-h," I groaned as she stuffed my cock in her mouth, "oh, shit, baby! Shit, that's so damn good!"

"Um-m-m-m," she agreed looking up at me, smiling with her eyes – really! It was the first time I'd ever seen anybody actually smile with her eyes!

She looked so sweetly innocent suckling and slurping on my cock that I could only shiver lustily. I hadn't felt like that since the very first time I'd fucked Carmella. I was certainly no virgin when I married her, and neither was she, but that first time was still a huge thrill. She'd actively sought out my cock back then, now I was lucky if she even bothered to move and usually quickly pushed me off, still spurting, after I came. I was glad we'd never had any kids. Lord knows how they would have turned out. Anyway, I was soon gasping, hanging onto her ears as she leaned forward on her hands, willingly letting me jerk her head back and forth, face-fucking her brutally. I was trying not to make her gag, but she straightened her neck a little more and pushed her head into my lap, sucking my whole cock down her throat as she introduced me to her tonsils. She clenched her eyes tight as I felt the constriction, then her eyes flew open in some surprise as all of me slipped down into her. She stared up at me with a suddenly startled, almost frightened, look as she gulped, swallowing my cock-head. For a frantic moment, she jerked back and forth, but I had such a firm grasp on her head that she finally gave in. A few moments later, I saw her eyes begin to roll back, but I was cumming as she began to slump. I suddenly panicked and, with a hard jerk, yanked my cock out of her throat, still spurting spasmodically, squirting my cum on her face, neck and perky little boobs, as I held her head up. She took a long, rasping gasp and jerked several times spastically as she came back to life. I held her head up as she gasped and coughed out a cum-snotty phlegm. Her eyes popped open and she gave me an baffled stare. Then she smiled up at me, reached up and took my cock back in her soft little hands.

"Shit, that was good," she whispered hoarsely, "I came all over myself when you came," she giggled.

I looked down and finally saw the puddle of cum, urine and shit. When she'd collapsed on me, it seemed as if everything had turned loose. I laughed and pointed down under her.

"Looks like something else came out of you," I chuckled.

She glanced down and gasped in horror, pressing her other hand to her mouth to cover her surprise. Her face turned red as she stared down in embarrassment.

"That's okay, baby," I soothed, "it's tile and it cleans up easy. Get the shower going while I clean it up."

"Wait," she turned to my soft, cum-dripping prick and sucked it back into her mouth, pushing the foreskin back with her tongue and teeth.

"Shit!" I gasped, "ooh, that's good!"

My cock twitched involuntarily, but refused to rise as she cleaned it off.

"There," she patted it gently, "I'd hate for all that good cum to get washed down the drain."

"It's all over you," I noted.

"Hm?" she looked up at me then down at her breasts, "oh, goodness! It is, isn't it?"

She giggled and started scraping as much of it as she could, licking it off her fingers as she looked around, trying to figure how to stand up with a minimum of mess. I wiped my dirty ass and stood. She glanced up at me as I reached a hand down to help her up, smiling gratefully. I didn't know what she saw in me other than my cock-size, but I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the . . . hm-m. I shook my head again and sighed, she was still a guy, but – fuck, she was a damn good cock-sucker and she had real good, well-trained asshole so . . . just . . . fuck it!

"Shower?" I offered leading her by the hand toward the stall.

"Thank you," she smiled, gracefully and carefully stepping over her messy pile.

I held her waist as she stepped in, helping her keep her balance. Fuck, she had a nice ass. A real sweet-looking ass, at that. I fought the impulse to lean over and kiss it, it was that sweet looking. As she bent to turn on and adjust the water, I turned back and sighed, reaching under the cabinet for the stash of paper towels. I had a couple of nephews that, when they'd been toddlers, used to like to splash around in the commode. The towels came in handy then and they came in handy now. As I wiped the shit and piss off the floor, I wondered where my wife was. I'd never lost a wife before and I actually hoped that she'd stay lost a little longer. I finished with a little Lysol spray and tossed the whole mess into the tiny little trash can beside the counter. As I stepped into the shower, I wondered where I'd be if I was a lost wife. That's right, my head was still throbbing so bad that I was thinking that simple. I was so damn thirsty, too. As I stepped in, I raised my head and faced the spray, opened wide and sucked as much water as I could. It was warm and I wanted cold, but it was wet and I was thirsty. Ronnie looked up at me and giggled.

"Still all hungover, huh?"

"Oh, hell, yes," I grunted and stared down at her.

She'd tucked her hair up in one of my wife's bathing caps to keep it dry. She was so tiny and cute that I wondered how old she was. She acted as if she wasn't more than thirteen or fourteen. I shook my head again, scattering drops of water all over. Ronnie squealed and giggled, trying to dodge the flying droplets. I laughed at her antics and pulled her to me. The top of her head barely reached my collar bone . . . and that was with the couple of inches the cap added.

"How old are you," I suddenly blurted out.

She stared up at me for a few seconds then shrugged and turned back to the water.

"You know, it's not polite to ask a lady her age," then she giggled and gave her shoulders a quick hunch, "just be glad that I'm still young enough to be proud of my age," she turned back and looked me in the eyes, "I'm nineteen – twenty in three months. I've had guys tell me that my looks really turn them on, because I look like a very young teeny-bopper . . . what about you? Do my looks turn you on?"

I started to shake my head, but instead, I smiled and nodded.

"And it's not because you look so young. You're just beautiful all over," I blurted out without thinking, surprising myself as I realized that I really meant it.

She squealed happily and hugged me tight, giving my chest quick little kissy pecks.

"I love you for that," she squealed again, "you know exactly what to say. How'd you come up with that one," she giggled looking up at me expectantly.

I suddenly turned red and shrugged, uselessly wiping the wet spray off her satiny shoulders.

"I, um, I, uh, I didn't," I shrugged again, "i-it just came out of my mouth without thinking, that's, that's all," I looked away in embarrassment.

"Aw-w," she leaned into me, pressing her little titties softly against my upper abdomen, "I'm sorry, I didn't meant to imply that . . . well, you know, that it was a story you told every girl, but it was so sweet and nice and I couldn't believe that anybody would just say it like that you know?"

"Um . . ."

"You're a really wonderful guy, you know?" she wiped her eyes, "I'm glad the water's running," she smiled tremulously, "I've never had anybody give me that kind of compliment."

"I, uh . . . whoof!"

She slammed against me, grabbing me around the waist and squeezing tightly. I stared down at her as she raised her head. She may have been small, but she was wiry, I gasped and looked down at her as she stood there with the most god-awful expression on her face. I suddenly realized that she was crying.

"Oh, hell!" I whispered, "I, um, I didn't mean to make you cry!"

"No, it's okay," she sniffled trying to smile, "it's just that . . . ah-HUNH!" she cleard her throat, "just that . . . see, nobody's ever told me anything so nice and really, really meant it, you know? They're always telling me stuff just to get something . . . a blow job, to feel my titties and see if they're real, even wanting to fuck my ass or suck my little prick, you know? Never to just . . . just because . . ."

I held her quietly, not knowing what to say as she huddled against me, her arms around me as she clung tightly to me.

"We, um, we better, um, you know, get, um, get dressed, okay?" I held her soft shoulders and held her off a little as I looked down into her downcast face.

She suddenly looked up at me and nearly blinded me with the brightest, most stunning smile I'd ever seen on anybody. Nodding she turned and self-consciously half-squatted to turn the water faucets off. God, she had such a sweet ass. Then I wondered if it was real or if she had implants to make it look better. Without thinking, I reached out and touched it, trying to feel for implants. She giggled and looked around at me, holding her bent-over pose, one hand on her knee and the other bracing herself on the water tap.

"Like what you feel?" she giggled.

"Oh. I, uh . . ."

"Oh, don't worry, you can feel all you want, anytime you want. You wanna fuck me, go ahead and fuck me. You wanna do anything with me," she shrugged and smiled over her shoulder at me, "I'm willing . . . with you and only you . . . anything, anything at all."

She saw the doubtful look in my eyes.

"Go ahead," she urged, "it's all natural, nothing but me and my female hormones," she straightened up and turned around, holding her small titties up for me, "I had little bumps and nice little nipples," she looked down at them as she held them for my inspection, "I was kind'a feminine looking and my areola were larger than most boys' were, so when I started taking hormones, they took off. I thought about getting them enhanced, but I heard that it's pretty painful and I'm not one for pain, you know?" she stared up at me and stopped talking.

I had my hands on her perky little handfuls, squeezing gently and rubbing the nipples with my thumb.

"Ooh," she gasped, "much more of that and I'm gonna knock you down and sit on your prick, stiff or not," she giggled eagerly.

"No," I sighed, turning them loose regretfully, "gotta dry off and get dressed. I, um, I guess I need to go find my wife, see where she's got to."

"Yeah, I guess so," she sighed deeply.

I helped her out and grabbed a towel. As she reached for another, I wrapped it around her shoulders and massaged the water off her soft skin.

"Ooh," she gave her little girl squeal again, "nice. Thank you."

"Quite welcome," I picked up another towel for myself and began drying myself off.

As she bent over the commode to dry her feet, I ran my damp towel over her back and down her buttocks, drying the crack of her ass gently before dropping to one knee and continuing down the backs of her legs. Her head down, looking at me between her legs, she smiled at me in appreciation. I grinned back and shrugged.

"Habit," I smiled, "got a couple of young nephews I used to help with."

"Lucky kids," she giggled, then, "ooh, I didn't mean . . . you know, um, that there was . . ."

"Any hanky-panky," I grinned, "you're my first . . . I mean, um . . ." my face went beet red all over again.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she giggled, then looked serious, "no, I really do understand. You've never thought of your nephews like that."

"Nope," I smiled, "but you're, um, you're so, um, so . . . so different, you know? I never expected, or even dreamed, that I'd meet somebody like you. I'm kinda glad that I was blasted out of my mind last night."

"Well!" she sniffed in a mock frosty tone, then suddenly giggled, "that's a helluva compliment . . . was it a compliment?" she grinned as she pulled on her flimsy, transparently sheer, bikini panties.

I watched her pull her little pecker up vertically and adjust her waist band. I was fascinated. She smiled up at me and began humming the stripper tune as she pulled on her pink nylon stockings.

"Ta-da-da-da, ta-da-da-da dah-da-da-a-a-da, boom chaka boom chaka boom . . ."

I laughed and waved her away as I went back into the bedroom and dug out some underwear from my chest of drawers. A few minutes later, she stepped out and met me.

"I left my dress and heels in the living room . . . or was it the kitchen?" she paused, "fuck we had a great time on the kitchen table, didn't we?"

I stared in confusion. What had we done on the kitchen table. She saw my confusion and laughed a low, throaty, very feminine laugh.

"You don't remember! I'll tell you, you laid me out on my back on that table and shoved that big monster down my throat. That's right, the bathroom this morning wasn't the first time I sucked you off," she laughed at my confusion, rushing up to me and hugging me, "then you spun me around like a top, pulled me to the edge of the table, shoved my legs up to my ears and fucked the hell out of my asshole," she kissed my bare chest, "it was great. I got to suck you off twice and got your big cock in my ass twice. What a man!"

So that's why her ass was so well-oiled. Must have been my cum still in her.

"Man, you're ingenious," she giggled, "who knew Crisco was such a good lubricant. Um-m-m, um! Your big cock slid right into me."

Fuck me, I thought, I hadn't done that in years, not since I'd been a horny fifteen year old with Lisa Dorning. Fuck she'd had such a tight pussy, but we'd managed to get the deed done. Wouldn't leave me alone for the next semester. Then one summer vacation, she was sent to visit her aunt and ran off with a boy the day before she was supposed to come back. It was a relief for me, but her folks raised some holy hell about it. I suddenly came back to earth as Ronnie bumped her chest into me and, cocking one leg behind her, rested her chin on my chest.

"Thanks. I had a wonderful time. Will you call me?" she pleaded.

"Well, I got the day off tomorrow and I'm supposed to go to a football game, but, um . . ."

"But, um, what?" she smiled.

"Well they are two of my best buddies and they'll cover for me, so . . ."

"It's a date!" she squealed, "I'll call off sick. I'll write down the address for you – no, wait, your wife might find it . . . give me your cell phone number and I'll text you the address, okay? Hm? Okay?"

"Sounds like a plan," I grinned picking her up in a bear hug and kissing her soft lips, "um-m-m," I moaned into her mouth.

"Um-m, is right," she giggled and sighed as I set her back on her tiny feet then, looking up at me with a worried look on her face, she added, "you won't, um, you know, forget?"

"Not on your life," I smiled, "not on your life. If I don't call you, it'll either be because my wife killed me or a meteor came down on my head."

"I don't know why, but I've gotten to really like you . . . really like you a lot in just this little while," she whispered softly.

I sighed and let her go, "let's go get the rest of your clothes, okay?"

"Sure," she grabbed my hand and led me out, walking on the tips of her toes.

We found her bright pink dress and a white half-jacket crumpled in front of the sofa. I spotted a large wet spot on a cushion and quickly turned it over.

"Oops," Ronnie gave me a silly grin, "you had me on my belly there, too," I smiled and shook my head.

She quickly slipped into her dress and I zipped it up for her.

"Fuck me," I thought as I slid my hands down her arms, "she feels so fucking sexy."

She didn't wear a bra and from the looks of her, didn't need it. Her perky little boobs jiggled nicely under her dress. I wandered into the kitchen and spotted her white platform heels. One was under the table and the other beside the stove. She held onto my arms as she stepped into them. Before she could sit to buckle the ankle straps, I knelt and buckled them for her.

"Damn," she gave a little shudder, "I think I love you, will you marry me?" she giggled.

"Sure, but I think my wife might have something to say about it," I teased back.

"Well," she sighed, "there's always gotta be a fly in the ointment."

I chuckled and straightened up. Her five inch platforms brought the top of her head to just under my nose, just the right height, I thought.

"You sexy thing, you," I grinned, unable to stop my mouth as I held her hand.

"It's about time you warmed up to me," she giggled, "c'mere, you," she tugged my hand and, as she ran her hands behind my shoulders, I ran mine behind her back and slid them down to her rump, "oo-oo-ooh," she giggled, I like that . . . so, see you tomorrow?"

"With bells on," I grinned, thinking, "oh, well, in for a penny, in for a dollar," kissing her puckered lips.

"Fuck me, she kisses good," I smiled to myself.

"Wanna ride anywhere?" she smiled up at me.

"Um, I don't know, why?"

"I drove you home last night. You were so wasted, I didn't want my knight in shining armor to wind up in an accident or in jail, you know?"

"And you stayed home with me after all that?"

I took her elbow and helped her to the door. She was amazingly well-balanced on those stilts. Then I realized that she probably did her dance routine with them, and shrugged, oh, well.

"How about dropping me off at my car?"

"Anything my honey-delight wants," she was still smiling from ear to ear.

Her car was a tiny mini-Cooper. Just the right size for her, but I had a little trouble keeping my knees from pounding my chin when we went over potholes and bumps. We rode in silence for ten minutes or so – and she never quit smiling, glancing at me every so often with a look of awe or surprise or something. A few moments later, she reached over and laid her small hand over mine, letting out a deep heartfelt sigh.

"I still can't believe it," she whispered almost to herself.

"Hm-m?" I looked at her.

"I can't believe that I just met you last night, that you're married and that I'm asking you to come to my place. My inner sanctum. My Fortress of Solitude. My very private retreat. My safe little hidey hole . . . you know? I mean, I feel as if I could trust you with not only my money, but my life, too," she shook her head, "but I do," then came the ding-bat question, "does that mean that gay trans-sexuals also have a woman's intuition?"