Girlfriend Experience

I stared, enthralled at the sound of her beautiful voice.

"Just say it, goddamit. But only if you mean it."

"I... love you."

She gave me an affectionate kiss. "I love you too. Was that so hard? Not talking about your penis there. That was plenty hard."

"I'm trying to stay awake for you, but I'm so damn sleepy."

"It's OK. That's normal. Close your eyes. Go to sleep."

I closed my eyes. Cheri hugged me closer. Held me what seemed like a long time. Started drifting. I vaguely heard the sound of water running.

Then I felt a hot wet towel cleaning my genitals. I opened my eyes, sleepily watched Cheri, still in her sexy black panties and bra, cleaning my thighs and my hands. "God, you're the best girlfriend ever."

"Couldn't let you go to sleep with your cock sullied from being in my ass, baby."

"Take the compliment."

She leaned down and softly kissed me. "Thank you. Put your head on the pillow. Get some sleep."

I turned ninety degrees, laid on my right side, my head on a pale grey pillow.

Cheri pulled the top sheet over me. Dimmed the bedside lamp, climbed in beside me. Snuggled up, spooning me, her hard belly warm against my back, her soft but muscular thighs against mine, an arm draped over my side.

I took her hand, kissed the incredibly soft skin on the outside, then started gently rubbing the much lighter skin of her palm.

"You have lovely skin," I said. "So soft. Such a beautiful dark color."

"Thank you, sweetie."

I closed my eyes and drifted off, still holding her hand, watching the show begin, bright colors swirling around...

***

Three olive skinned harem girls were giving me a blowjob. It's good to be king, I thought. They morphed into an Asian girl, her lips so warm...

I groggily blinked awake.

I was naked, on my back. My cock was stiffening, lips wrapped around the head and a tongue sliding up and down the sensitive patch on the underside... I stared around the dimly lit room, turned on but disoriented...

Oh, wait. At Cheri's.

I groaned and put my hand on the back of her head, her curly hair tickling my hand, and pressed down.

Her head slid down, effortlessly deepthroating me. She resisted the pressure of my hand, pulled her head free of my shaft. "Hey, Hunter. Ready for another of your fantasies to cum true?"

"Oui, Cheri." I reached up and cupped her small breasts in mine, feeling the lace covering the softness. Squeezed them.

Cheri reached behind her, undid her bra. Tossed it toward the pile of clothes on the bench at the foot of the bed. Climbed on top of me and lowered her breasts to my face, rubbed them back and forth over my nose and mouth. "Suck my nipple." She had big puffy smooth areolas, almost black.

I took a hard black nipple in my mouth, sucked and licked it, while my hands squeezed her soft breasts.

"Nibble on it. Bite it."

I tentatively bit it, not wanting to hurt her.

"Harder."

I bit and nibbled right up to the edge of my comfort level.

"Harder. Ow. Aaaah. Yeah. That's it. Now the other breast."

I happily complied, savoring the faint musky yet floral smell of the perfume she'd apparently dabbed on her neck and chest. "Mmmm. You smell so good."

"Now that you've got me warmed up... roll over on your belly." She climbed off me. I complied, trying to remember what fantasies I'd confessed to, in the bar...

She wedged a leg between my calves. "Part your thighs."

I spread them a bit.

She put a second leg in between. Laid on top of me, crushing me a bit, wriggled so her strong hot thighs were against my inner thighs. Spread my legs wider open.

Cheri nibbled on my earlobe, letting me adjust to her weight on top of me. It was a little hard to breathe, but it felt kinda sexy.

"Remember this fantasy?" She slowly started grinding her crotch against mine, the soft lace rubbing up between my cheeks.

"Mmmm. Yeah. Rub that pussy against my ass."

"You like thinking about getting humped like this by a woman?"

"Sooo hot."

"Want me to finger fuck you?"

"Please."

"Say it -- 'I want you to finger fuck my ass, Cheri.' " She spanked one butt cheek, then the other. Hard.

"Ow! Fuck. Uh -- I want you to finger fuck my ass."

"Did you forget my name already?" she said, in a teasing tone of voice.

"Fuck my ass, Cheri."

"Since you insist," she said brightly. She reached over toward the night stand. I heard a faint squishing sound.

I looked over my shoulder just as her left hand slid between the top of my cheeks, fingers coated with lube.

She pressed her right hand between my shoulder blades, pinning me down, then her fingers started rubbing circles around my hole while her hips resumed dry humping against the bottom part of my cheeks.

Cheri pressed a finger in the center of my arsehole. "Want me to fuck your hole now?"

"Yes. Please."

I gasped in pain as she roughly jammed a finger all the way inside, held it while vigorously rabbit humping my lower cheeks.

Then she rubbed my prostate.

"Oh. My. God. Aaaaah!"

"Want me stop?" Her voice had an amused wicked tone.

"Please. Don't. Stop." I gasped, as she fucked and rubbed, fucked and rubbed, explosions of pleasure in my head.

She put another finger inside. It was even more uncomfortable, but so mixed up with pleasure that it felt wonderful.

"You like being fucked by a woman?"

"Fuck yes, Cheri!"

"You want me to really fuck the hell out of you?" She slid her fingers out, teasing me. Making me beg for it.

"Fuck the hell out of me, Cheri."

She spanked a cheek, then the other.

"You sure?"

"Yes!"

"You want me to give it to you good and hard?"

"Fuck me already!"

"Look me in the eyes. Kiss me."

I turned my head to look into her eyes, even more beautiful in the endorphin rush she was giving me. Kissed her passionately.

"Here it cums, baby." She laid back on top of me, her body pressing me flat to the bed. She'd pulled her panties down her thighs -- I felt the lace stretched taut against the back of knees. I felt a warm finger pressing against my hole, but not entering yet. I bucked my hips up, trying to get it inside.

"Get it inside! Fuck me already, fer chrissakes!"

She grabbed my hair and yanked on it, her finger teasing me, pressing hard but not entering.

"I'm gonna make you my man. You wanna be my man?"

"Yes, Cheri!"

"You like being fucked hard?"

"Yes!"

She grabbed my neck with her free hand, squeezing and choking me a bit, while the hand holding my hair jammed my face into the pillow. It felt so hot, being dominated like...

What the fuck? I thought. TWO hands!!?!

"What the fuck?" I muttered into the pillow.

What... Is that a dildo... Too soft...

"Oh no. Fuuuuck," I moaned into the pillow.

"What?" Cheri said. "Can't hear you." She took her hands off my neck and head and grabbed my shoulders, then her... penis?... jammed my hole, trying to enter.

"Is that a DICK you're trying to put in my ass?" I said, staring into her lust glazed eyes.

She... he?... stopped trying to penetrate. "Wait, what?" She stared into my wide open eyes. "You're joking, right?"

"You... I..."

"You... you thought I was cis?"

"Cis?"

She stared some more. Rolled off me onto her side. "I'm trans, for fuck's sake. A trans woman."

I stared down at her small dick, maybe three inches long.

"Jesus, are you a bigot?" She looked like she was on the verge of tears.

I rolled onto my side to face... her. "Whattya mean, a bigot? You're the one who buried the fucking lede on that Having a Penis thing."

"I prefer to think of it as a large clitoris."

"Fine. Clitoris. Buuut..."

Now she was crying. "Do you want to leave? Does my clitoris repulse you?"

"Uh... no?" I said softly. "I want to be with you. Except, you know..."

"Except you don't like my genitalia," she said bitterly. "Really. You can leave now. I won't stop you."

"It's not really about the fucking genitals. It's about being told to always be utterly honest with you, to always tell you the truth... then you commit a huge lie of omission."

"What lie? I didn't lie to you at all." He... she?... wiped away the tears, but more welled up.

"Not telling me about the trans thing. Waiting until you were trying to shove your... clitoris... in my ass for me to find out. That's not a lie of omission?"

"I thought you KNEW, for fuck's sake!"

"How?"

"HOW? Oh, the walls painted as a rainbow. My paint jars arranged in a rainbow. The --"

"Straight people can see colors, too. Not like anybody has a monopoly on that."

"You're not nearly as straight as you'd like to think you are."

Is that deflection? I thought. I mean, sure, it's true... Stay on point, dammit.

"How about when I fucked your ass? Weren't you trying to hide your di... um, clitoris? You know, laying in prone position, so I couldn't see in front?"

She rolled her eyes. "You're generous to a fault. And all those vanilla women you've had sex with -- sure seems like they took advantage of you. Dominated you. Trained you to be a good little puppy in bed who always thought about their needs and not yours. Didn't let you demand and take what you wanted. So. Prone bone. I took the most submissive possible position, so you would be free to fuck the living hell out of me."

I stared at her beautiful eyes. Holy fuck, she really gets me.

"You really get me," I said softly.

"So," she said. Less heat in her voice. "Leaving out the really broad hints from all the paint, and me encouraging you to be dom for once -- you couldn't tell I was trans from how I look?"

I raised my voice a little. "You look like a woman. You act like a woman. You tell me you're a woman. Why the fuck wouldn't I believe you?"

She reached out and touched my cheek. "You see me as a woman? You see... me?"

"Maybe my TransDar is broken, but... yes."

"Do you... love me? Still?" She ran her hands through my hair, stroking it.

"I... yes."

"But my --"

"Your... clitoris... was unexpected. But."

"But?"

"But... I can't deny how much chemistry we have. More than I've ever felt before." I stroked her cheek. "And the sex has been so hot and amazing. You do things for me... to me... that no woman -- uh, cis woman -- has ever done."

"Soo... what do we...?"

I gazed in her eyes, a look there like she was a bit afraid, but wanted me so much. "Have make up sex?"

She gently pushed me onto my back. Climbed on top. "Kiss me."

I put my hand on the back of her neck, and gently touched her lips with mine.

She accepted my apologetic kiss, rubbed her nose against mine, gazing into my eyes. She planted little kisses across my cheek toward my ear. "Relax, sweetie. Let me take care of my man's needs." She reached down and grasped my cock, started stroking and kneading it back to life, while kissing and nibbling downwards. Bit a nipple, perhaps a bit harder than necessary.

"Ow."

She gave me a 'You Deserved That' look. "Am I your girlfriend?"

"Oui, Cheri."

She squeezed the shaft of my stiff cock. "Do I make you hard?"

"Mmm-hmm!"

She bit the other nipple. "Do you think my body is sexy?"

"Hell yes."

Kissed her way to just above the tip of my cock. Her breath was hot against the head. "You gonna stick around?"

I nodded yes.

"Say it."

"I'm gonna stick around. Cause I'm not a gotdamn fool."

"Good answer." She took my cockhead in her mouth, licking and sucking it while thrills ran up my spine. Meanwhile her right hand stretched out to the nightstand, took a few Kleenex tissues. Wiped the lube off my butt cheeks and hole, tossed the soiled tissues into the waste bucket. "Ever been rimmed?"

"I... uh..."

"Of course not. Fucking cis women." Flashed her eyes at me, a wicked knowing look on her face. Slid her tongue down my shaft, over my balls, and then...

"Ooooohhh! Fuuuuccck!" I groaned, as her tongue licked and circled my hole, sending electric jolts up my spine and into my head, her amused eyes never leaving mine. I grabbed her hair. "Please. Don't. Fucking. Stop!"

She stopped. Rolled her tongue into a tube, something I was genetically incapable of doing. Raised her eyebrows.

I nodded, frantically. "Please!" I wasn't sure what the heck she was about to do, but I sure as fuck wanted it.

She started tongue fucking my ass, little jabs that stretched my tight ring without quite penetrating.

"Aaaah! Aaaah! I'm gonna cum!"

She stopped jabbing, took my cockhead in her mouth, then smoothly deep throated all the way down, her agile tongue curling around the shaft and sliding side to side as she took me deep into her throat.

I grabbed her head with both hands and spurted jet after jet inside her throat, my hips frantically bucking up, as if that could get my cock any deeper inside.

She took my cum, her throat muscles milking my shaft and cockhead, swallowing it all, while I moaned and thrashed around, the most intense orgasm of my life.

So far.

When I was done, no sperm left to give, hot and sweaty and panting for breath, she climbed back on top, held my head with both hands, put her mouth to mine. She slowly tongue fucked my mouth, feeding me the salty, slightly yeasty tasting remnants of my jism.

The back of my mind wanted to rebel, a little grossed out considering where that tongue had been, but her lips were so soft, and I was so sleepy, and it seemed churlish to find any fault whatsoever with all the nasty, delicious things she had done for me.

"Wow," I whispered.

"Uh-hunh," she whispered. "Just getting started, baby." She rolled part way off me, taking the weight off. Hugging me like she never wanted to let go.

I rolled onto my side, facing her. Rubbed my nose against her small flat nose, kissing her lazily, wrung out from my orgasm. I hugged back, pressing my sweaty body against her warmth, holding her. My hands grabbed her big sexy booty, squeezed it. Pressed her against me.

She slowly ground her crotch into mine, humping me with her erect... clitoris. I reached between us and felt inside her panties, felt her hardness in my hand. Gazed into her dark eyes, letting her feel my acceptance.

"Yes," I said, sleepily. "Yes."

"Get some sleep," she whispered.

I closed my eyes and started drifting, the comforting warmth of her body snuggled against mine.

***

The rapist pushed me to my knees, then grabbed the back of my neck. He pushed me forward toward his stiff prick... no, I said, please no... you gotta, bitch, he said...

I woke in a dimly lit room, just before his cock would have penetrated my mouth.

The fuck am I? Oh, yeah, Cheri's.

I got out of the unfamiliar bed, softer than mine. Cherie had put a neatly folded plush bathrobe at the foot of the bed. I couldn't tell what color it was in the faint permalight from the downtown Austin skyscrapers in the distance, plus some light leaking under the closed door to the room.

I put the bathrobe on, opened the door. The combo living room / kitchen area was dimly lit by undercabinet fluorescent lights. Light leaked around the edges of the closed doors to the painting studio. The clock on the microwave oven said 3:31.

Wonderful smells permeated the room, presumably from the rice cooker on the counter in the small kitchen area, which had a red "2" indicating it had been on the warming cycle for over 2 hours. I walked over. There was a pale green sticky note next to the rice cooker, saying, "Jollof rice. Help yourself." A rice paddle with a few reddish grains of rice sticking to it rested next to the cooker on a small white plate.

I opened the leftmost of the four overhead cabinets in the kitchen area, looking for a bowl. A profusion of spices -- Indian, Asian, Caribbean, etc. Pretty much the whole world was represented there.

The next cabinet had one can of tomatoes, one can of tomato paste, a packet of chicken bouillon cubes, a glass butter dish with a bit of butter left, a nearly empty bottle of olive oil, and a clear plastic tub of coconut oil about nine-tenths empty. Nothing else.

The fuck?

Next cabinet - four glass storage containers, two each of white and brown rice. Two glass jars -- black beans and pinto beans. Peanuts.

The rightmost cabinet was full of plastic glasses, white ceramic dishes and bowls.

That's all the dry food she has? Refrigerator must be stuffed.

Nope.

One stick of butter. One onion. One red bell pepper. What had been a block of sharp cheddar in a ziplock bag, an eighth remaining. A half empty bottle of red wine. The freezer had a small bag of corn and a large half empty bag of winter mix vegetables. No meat.

Dieting? I thought. Vegetarian? Self control via a lack of food?

Then the epiphany hit. How she sat down next to me at the bar this afternoon, no drink in hand, not ordering anything. The worn out painter jeans she was wearing. The coyness about whether she was really a call girl. The bit about no clients ever having stiffed her on her amateur negotiating scheme.

Damn near broke. Possibly on the verge of eviction from the apartment. The dodgy economy drying up demand for luxury goods like her paintings. Possibly, in desperation, a first venture in a new career as a high end call girl.

Naah, my aspie cortex muttered. A whole lot of dubious suppositions there. Look at a Venn diagram of all the possibilities...

You dumb fuck, the instinctual part of my brain chimed in. Quit analyzing, and FEEL what's right in front of you.

I was really hungry, not having had anything to eat since a light breakfast almost a full day ago.

I took a small bowl of her jollof rice -- more of a snack, really. Found a spoon in the silverware drawer, went toward the studio doors. I could faintly hear the song "Radar Love" playing behind the doors.

Opened the door to a whirling storm of activity. Cheri, who had a faint sheen of sweat from exertion on her smooth dark skin, despite only wearing a slightly paint splattered black lace bra and panties, had two small natural sponges in her hand, each speckled with several different colors of paint. She was moving in perfect rhythm to the beat of the music, alternately dabbing and slapping the sponges against the upper left corner of the canvas on the easel, creating a semi-pointillist effect. Dots of the black base coat I'd seen earlier still peppered the canvas amongst the riot of colors that overlaid it, sharpening and intensifying the hues.

I had no fucking idea of what she was painting -- at first glance it appeared to be purely abstract, but something tickled at the base of my brain, telling me a pattern was emerging.

Cheri glanced over her shoulder at me. "Hey, sexy."

"It's magnificent. Don't let me interrupt your flow."

"K." She turned to a little round speaker on one of the tables. "Alexa, increase volume. Alexa, increase volume." The tail end of "Radar Love" ratcheted up two levels, much louder now that Cheri didn't have to worry about the sound wakening me.

Cheri grabbed several more paint jars from the half emptied rainbow on the storage bench, added them to a slew of opened paint jars on the active use bench which she must have earlier pulled away from the wall and placed to the left side of the canvas. Twisted off the lids, added more dabs of the newest colors to each sponge, resumed her frenetic painting pace.

I ate the small bowl of jollof rice, placed the empty bowl on an unused corner of the bench furthest from the canvas, and quietly stepped to the far side of the storage bench half full of unopened jars, trying not to break her concentration. I stooped and checked out the jars -- they all said "Golden Acrylics" in big print, and in smaller print to the right, "Heavy Body Acrylics / Acryliques Heavy Body". I picked up a small jar of blue paint, labeled "Primary Cyan" and under it, "Cyan Primaire" plus the size, "4 fl. oz. / 118 ml". Carefully placed it back in place in the ragged remains of the rainbow of colors. Quite a few of the smallest 4 ounce jars had hand-written descriptions taped over the original color description, protected by clear plastic tape. I assumed these were custom paint colors Cheri had mixed up, such as "Alizarin Crimson Hue + Titanium White" and "Turquoise + Veridian Green + Light Green (Yellow Shade)".