Transsexual Erotica
"Coming Soon to a Theatre Near Me" a sex story by Bree
My boyfriend was a lesbian porn star. She used to be a lesbian. Sometimes he still is. We met on butch-femme.com. I know. But having plowed through most of the butches in New York like a dyke dervish on a quest for the holy clit, I needed something new. So I imported. Answered an ad on the opposite coast. A sex ad. "Transgender butch boi seeks slippery submissive femme for surreptitious sex and spankings." Alliteration makes me wet. So do spankings. I fired off an immediate response, safe in the knowledge that since Mr. Tranny Butch Boi was so far away, nothing was likely to come of it. He said he was always packing, so I asked if he traveled. "If you're ever in New York," I taunted, "let me know, and I'll meet you in a nice dark alley somewhere."
When I saw his picture, I recognized him immediately. There was no mistaking the cool blue gaze, shoulders too broad to be a girl's, lips too lush to belong to a boy. The gentle slope of nose a stark, breathtaking contrast to the strong, angular jaw. The sexy blond wave of hair screaming "stroke me." I knew his face well, though we'd never met. I'd been watching him for years, had jerked off to him furtively all through college.
"Forgive me," my email began politely. "I don't mean to be impudent, but you look really familiar. Is it possible, by any chance, have you, um, starred in any lesbian porn? I'm thinking Go, Dyke, Go 2, 3, and 4 - my personal favorite series - the scene where the pregnant femme is picnicking with her girlfriend and out of nowhere this big butch stud comes in with a toolbox, fucks her sweetly up the ass, and then leaves?"
I'd said too much. Or just enough.
I stared at the screen barely blinking for five full minutes until the reply came. "Yes, that's me."
My wet dream come true.
I immediately confessed to blowing off my college graduation party to cram into a crowded dorm room to watch and rewind and watch that scene over and over again. My femme friend and I convinced the only girl on campus with a VCR to let us take over her room. She was a religion major. When we popped in the video, she murmured, "Oh my god."
I quickly bought my own copy and displayed the glossy cardboard box as a catalyst for countless conversations. The cover featured the blond beefcake butch towering above his costars, staring straight ahead with that cocky gaze a silent, relentless dare. A ripped men's work shirt hung open, revealing the impossibly smooth expanse of skin beneath. Tight abs and completely flat chest - he looked like a boy even then. For years, I watched my favorite blond porn star over my girlfriend's shoulder as she fucked me, my eyes intent on my pet porn stud's ass, perfectly framed by the leather harness. I fantasized about my own private audition for Go, Dyke, Go, of starring opposite this butch, becoming the Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers of the L.A. lezzie porn set.
And now, here he was, chatting me up and asking if I had a hot date for Valentine's Day.
"Well," I thought, "I do now." His porn career behind him, he'd moved on to documentaries chronicling his patient, thoughtful, continuing transition from female towards male. I've always been drawn to masculine women. When you have to ask "Is that a boy or a girl?" is about when I get interested. The answer is less important than the question. So what could be hotter than having my genderfuck porn star fantasy come to New York on Valentine's Day to fuck me with his cock as hard as Cupid's arrow - the strap-on kind and the one he was growing himself.
He sent an enticing photo of himself modeling the detachable version - a primed, jutting, huge dick complete with balls in a smooth, inky, rich jet black that matched his harness. My own dyke Daddy Dirk Diggler. He called it the Big Black Nemesis. Simultaneously thrilled and terrified, I searched the internet, hoping to learn its exact dimensions to see what I was getting myself into. I'd had the courage and audacity in moments to refer to myself as a size queen, but this was quite frankly the largest dildo I'd ever seen, and it was more than a little daunting. What if he was too big? What if I blew it?
Despite searching all the sex toy stores and bravely asking for it by name, I was unsuccessful in determining the dildo's dimensions, so I started training with my girly gold glitter dick. I popped in the video. That's the cool thing about dating a porn star - how many girls get to preview their lover before they actually meet? I already knew his voice, the sharp sure thrusts of his hips, how he looked fucking a girl, how he'd look fucking me. What I couldn't imagine was how it would feel.
But my fantasy went like this: I find him at the airport gate, and before I can ask how the flight was or even confirm that it's him, his mouth probes my lips, devouring my tongue. He guides me to a dimly lit passageway, and all at once, my back is against the wall and his hand is under my skirt. It's so fast, but I don't say no. I want it, too. He's horny, like a boy, biting my neck, pinning me down with an unmistakable hardness straining through his jeans that I know he chose for me.
His hand is quick - the condom glides on and he nudges against my clit, which pulses dramatically. I lose my breath, then find it, pushing my pelvis against him, willing his cock to slip inside me on its own. His hand moves between my legs, stroking me lightly, then pushing in hard.
I turn myself over to his care, my breasts his to beat and bruise and bathe with his tongue, my velvety bare pussy his to invade, consume and display. He sears into me and my head, heart, cunt open to him, welcoming, buckling, giving way. The contrast of his impossibly soft skin enveloping solid muscle is mirrored in his fucking: the hard, soft, rough, gentle, sweet, vicious, tender, savage, voracious ravaging of my body just past breaking point. I did not know what need was. I have only wanted.
His cock pushes sounds from deep in my throat, and I cry out, flooding us both with an orgasmic display that rivals the professionals. I grunt and wail and he smothers my mouth with his.
Suddenly my mouth aches for him. I suck at the empty air, searching with every breath for his cock. He tears off the harness and tosses it aside. I part him and discover the biggest boy-clit I've ever seen. I grab his furry ass, and take his perfect mouthful of cock between my lips. It lengthens and stiffens against the flat of my tongue. I suck with a ferocious thirst to feed on him, fiercely working his cocklet as the tension in his thighs builds and he clamps down, his legs squeezing the sides of my head. His full weight collapses against me, and he finally relaxes, taking my hand in his, still sticky with me, and we walk out together, flushed and calm, impervious, untouchable.
Envisioning this scenario, I coaxed orgasm after salty orgasm from my sopping, aching cunt, and by the time he arrived, I was no longer scared of his big black nemesis, I was hungry for it. He was exactly as I imagined - a pulsing, vibrant version of the freeze frame fantasy in my VCR.
The fantasy continued for months without interruption. As he said, it's not about the destination. It's the trip. We didn't miss a stop on the subversive sexuality spectrum, stretching to fill the vast landscape of erotic possibility in the space between boy and girl, fantasy and reality. This lesbian porn star became my first boyfriend, and I found our inconsistency irresistible. The labels fell away as easily as our clothes. All that was left was throat-parching desire. Be my boyfriend, my girlfriend, my porn star, my lover, my fantasy, my special occasion, my every day, my ritual, my heat, my heart. Just be mine. And let me be yours. Your little angel baby girl, booty call princess, girlfriend lover, slut whore bitch. For more than male or female, boy or girl, he was a Top. You can call him he or she, but I called him Daddy as I begged him to please, please fuck me, just like those girls in his movies. And he did.
(This story was previously published in On our Backs magazine and Up All Night: Real Life Lesbian Sex Stories, Alyson Books, 2004)
Originally published January 2007 - "Happy Nude Year!"