The Blue Dress

"Jessie wants to watch," he explained, and winked. "Better make it a good show."

He looked back at Jack's cock, pointing at him like the barrel of a gun. For the first time he wondered how Jack and Jessie knew each other, and at how comfortable Jack was filming his junk for Ed's girlfriend. Were they old lovers? Were they... still lovers? Staring at the larger, better penis of a stronger, more masculine man, he felt a twinge of inadequacy.

He shivered, suddenly aware of his soft, hairless, feminised body, his own penis tucked tightly back and his balls firmly packed up into his body by a strict elastic gaff. What could he possibly offer her that Jack could not? He glanced up again, this time not at Jack, but into the lens of the camera, into the imagined eyes of his Jessie, watching eagerly on a screen. He imagined her hand was between her legs, tracing slow circles around her clit, waiting to see how he would perform. This, he thought. This was what he could do for her.

He parted his lips and leaned his head forward to plant a first kiss on the head of Jack's cock. It was the most chaste peck, a hesitant test. There were no fireworks, but the world did not end either. He probed his own lips with his tongue, feeling for where they had made contact, but there was nothing to mark the spot: no distinctive taste, no drop of precum. He took a deep breath, opened his mouth wider, and took the head fully inside.

It filled his mouth more than he was expecting. His lips pushed back the foreskin, over the bump at the back of the glans, and slowly on down the shaft. Jack made a sound, a quiet sigh of satisfaction as the wide head pressed against the roof of his mouth. Slowly he eased back again, noting how natural it felt to draw his lips along the shaft, following the softer, sensitive area underneath with his tongue. And then, just as the head was about to leave his mouth, he pushed forward again, hungrily drawing as much as he could inside his mouth. That cycle repeated, in and out, his head dipping to force as much of the shaft as he dared inside his mouth, and then lifting to pull the head back until it was almost out of his mouth again, holding the tip tenderly between his lips for a moment, before dipping his head again for another repetition. He was surprised how quickly he became comfortable with it, rhythmically bobbing his head, dipping and lifting, the piston-like cycles filling and emptying his mouth taking on a hypnotic quality. He began to feel that perhaps, as Jack had said, this really was what he was made to do.

Jack was responding, too. His hips swayed gently with a complimentary rhythm, thrust and pull, thrust and pull; only a very slight movement at first, but with the unmistakable effect that he edged his cock ever deeper into Ed's mouth with every stroke. He slipped his free hand behind Ed's neck, his thick fingers feeling the narrow line of short cropped hair that wasn't fully covered by elasticated lace at the nape of his hairpiece, all safely hidden from view by the meticulous blonde feathers of woven hair that fell into an irregular bob just above his shoulders.

At first his hand was gentle and passive, cupping the back of his head and following his movements, dipping and lifting; a strangely affectionate gesture that heightened Ed's awareness of every sensation. But slowly, almost imperceptibly, the hand began to exert the faintest of forces upon him. It wasn't even firm enough to move his head on it's own, but served simply to guide his own movements and timing. Linger just a quarter-second longer with the tip of his cock right on your tongue; bring your head forward just a little further, letting Jack push his cock just a little deeper. With each thrust, just a little deeper. Working together, the insistent guidance of his hand and the sway of his hips, with each thrust, just a little deeper...

Ed could feel it happening, but instead of alarm or annoyance — the reaction he would have expected to have from this situation — he felt excited. He couldn't help feeling thrilled by Jack's physical response to him, the way his cock had swollen to full hardness against his mouth, and that dominant desire to force himself deeper into his soft, receptive throat. Ed responded gamely; as insistently as Jack wanted to penetrate him, Ed wanted to receive every inch of his cock, as far as it would go.

But enthusiasm was not enough; he was reaching his limit. He could feel his throat clenching tightly as that thick round head pushed deeper along his soft palate, a momentary relief as it slipped back to the front of his mouth, and then thrusting deeply in again. He squeezed his eyes shut for those deep thrusts, and let out an involuntary noise each time they reached their apex, a strangled squeak of exertion. Despite his best efforts, his gag reflex threatened to overwhelm him.

Abruptly, Jack grunted again. His hand took firm control of Ed's head, lifting it as he pulled his cock fully out of his mouth. Then, just as abruptly, he roughly pulled him forward, unbalancing him so he pitched into the standing man, planting his head firmly against Jack's inner thigh. With his kneeling doll rearranged, he dropped his heavy shaft against his upturned face with a wet slap, smearing his makeup with his own saliva. Ed panted with the exertion, his ragged breathing filtered through the tight dark curls of hair under Jack's crotch. Both his nose and his mouth rubbed up against something soft and warm: it was his balls, heavy and pendulous to match his long, hard cock.

As he struggled to recover his breath, each deep inhalation was filled with the scent of Jacks testes, the rich masculine odour of sweat laced with an earthier, sickly aroma: the smell of sex. It didn't smell clean or wholesome, and he wondered how long it was since Jack had washed. He was vaguely aware that he should find the smell disgusting, that it should be humiliating and degrading to have his face forced against another man's testicles. But that only made his skin tingle more, the wrongness of it setting him alight with desire. It seemed the most natural thing in the world, with his face pressed up against those fat, tender globes, to open his mouth as wide as he could, extend his tongue, and began to gently suck the wrinkled, hairy flesh.

At first he thought he had done something wrong, perhaps tickled or bitten some tender area. He made as if to stop, but Jack's free hand had again found the back of his head and firmly pushed his face back against his balls, shifting the damp weight of the cock that still lay rested across half of his face; so he continued. He looked up with his uncovered eye, and understood: the shuddering of Jack's body was because he was laughing softly.

"I've got to hand it to you Jessie, you've really outdone yourself this time," he was saying to the recording, flipped around to "selfie" mode and held up so he could talk to camera with Ed's face in the frame. "You've really got inside this little slut's mind and turned it all around, haven't you. Not only is he now a one-hundred-per-cent cock hungry little whore, he's a ball-sucking natural too. Look at him go!"

He lowered the camera next to Ed's face. It was still set to use the front-facing camera, so while he eye'd it, it reflected the close-up shot of his face back at him. It was a shock; he still wasn't used to how convincing Jessie had made him look as a woman: elegant blonde hair instead of his usual short crop job, the long pale curve of skin as his neck flared down to his shoulder and the graceful fabric of the dress. His face was now a mess: one of his false eyelashes hung askew; his dark eyeliner had been streaked by tears and smudged by the clumsy weight of Jack's cock; and all the colour from his lipstick was now spread out along that long shaft. But Jessie's expertly applied foundation and blush still shaped the angles of his face into soft, perfect, doll-like features.

The glimpse of how he looked, the striking erasure of his masculinity, was perfectly capped by the degrading act he saw himself performing on the compact screen: his mouth wrapped around one of Jack's heavy, swollen balls, his mouth softly pulsing as he massaged the tender skin with his tongue.

"So what do you think, Jess?" he asked. "All that's left is for me to cum on this dumb slut. Do I leave my load on his face, or in his mouth?"

That sent a thrill of alarm and excitement through Ed's body. He raised his eyebrows, looking up at Jack, whose attention was on his phone, obviously waiting for some reply from Jessie. He never stopped working with his tongue.

"Bear in mind," said Jack, glancing down with a cruel grin, winking at Ed as he listened. "In his state of mind a mouthful of cum might break him completely. He might never eat pussy again. Is that a risk you're willing to take?" There was a pause. He laughed. Another long pause. "All right then," he said at last.

Ed's heart was beating fast as Jack shifted his position, lifting his balls out of reach with a satisfied grunt. He leant back his knees, his eyes wide and round with fear and anticipation as Jack started pumping the base of his cock. That had been a joke, right?

"Open your mouth," he said softly. His free hand was beating out a swift rhythm, but staying around the base of his cock, leaving the head proud and free. Once again it seemed like the barrel of a gun aimed at him, but now the head was fully revealed, fully engorged, a dark glistening purple. It seemed huge, he didn't know how he had ever fit it in his mouth at all. The dark hole at the tip seemed to have enlarged too, and pulsed ominously with every stroke. A large drop of cloudy white liquid was gathering below it.

That had been a joke, right? This... this wasn't going to change him forever? Panicking, he cast about in his mind for confirmation of his straightness. He tried to remember the last time he'd had sex with Jessie, tried to bring to mind all the things about her body that aroused him, but it all seemed so vague and indistinct. When he tried to imagine nuzzling her breasts, all he could think of was the feeling of his face being pressed against Jack's crotch. He reached desperately for his most precious and erotic memory, his first time, losing his virginity to her. But when he tried to recall that ecstatic feeling, to recover the exact moment he first pushed himself slowly inside her, to his horror, his mind replayed the slow sensation of Jack's cock equally slowly pushing into his mouth. He blinked with increasing alarm. It was just the situation. Jack's cock was more salient because he was here, now. Right? His cherished memories weren't being overwritten, right?

Jack's voice became a low and threatening command. "Open. Your. Mouth." He took a step towards him, the tip of his cock poised less than an inch from his face. Jack's hand was now moving very slowly at the base; he was close and holding on, edging up on his orgasm. Ed remembered his own pitiful ejaculation onto his hand the night before, wondered whether it wouldn't be better to keep his lips sealed, and have this load sprayed across his face. He looked up one last time. Jack's face was flushed and stern with his own exertion, but he was still holding his phone steady for Jessie to watch.

Slowly, his eyes locked on the camera lens, he parted lips, forming a wide "O". He opened his mouth as wide as he could, extending his tongue gently over his lower teeth. Jack placed the tip of his cock carefully against the tip of his tongue, pushing it down to make sure the camera maintained a clear view of the tip. The surface tension of the heavy drop immediately broke and it flowed into his mouth, a first sip of that familiar, warm salty-sweet taste. Jack let out a sharp groan of release, and then it came: the first jet was so forceful it was almost spray against the back of his mouth, then as thick ropes. Three, four, five; each muscular contraction pumping another clot of thick, white semen into his waiting mouth.

Finally, he was done. In an oddly familiar gesture, he ran a firm finger all the way up his cock, from the base to the tip, producing one last dribble of milky fluid which he smeared unceremoniously on Ed's lip. Ed's eyes remained cooly fixed on the camera lens. He closed his mouth, he swallowed, and then he opened his mouth again to show the camera that every drop was gone. Jack let out a sharp laugh. "That's a wrap," he said, and let the camera drop to his side.

Ed was so dazed after that, he stopped paying attention for a few moments. He supposed Jack must have been buttoning his chinos up and making himself presentable for the walk back through the bar. He blinked in surprise a moment later to see Jack standing over him. He was handing Ed back his phone. He hadn't even noticed him taking it.

"I put my number in." He said. "So when you feel like you need to suck another cock — " he paused with a sly grin. "...And trust me, you will feel the need to suck another cock — you'll know where to find me."

Ed took the phone silently, staring dumbly at the black screen while Jack walked briskly back down the corridor to the bar. He vaguely wondered how Jack had unlocked it.

Ed didn't move for a long time. He wondered how he was going to fix his makeup enough to walk out of the bar. He wondered when he'd get a chance to wash the taste of cum out of his mouth. The buzz of his phone distracted him from these thoughts, the screen lighting up in his hand to announce a new message.

"Oh. My. God."

Again, Jessie's message was so short he didn't need to unlock his phone. He didn't even need to move his hand to read it. It buzzed again with the follow-up.

"That was SO hot."