Chapter 4

Hey, folks, I'm gonna tell you about this story that happened to me when I ended up hooking up with a femboy. First off, I gotta make it clear: I've always been straight, never been into guys. But that night, I slipped up – and honestly, it was one of the best times I've ever had. Who hasn't, right? This tale's from my point of view, so if it comes off a bit rough at times, sorry in advance. Let's get into it.

During prep for the entrance exams, my class had at least 150 people, all kinds of folks from every background, belief, color, and orientation. We'd always try to flirt with the girls, but between practice tests and hours of studying, there was hardly ever time – and when there was, we were wiped out. Of course, every now and then we'd skip some classes to sneak out. That's how I met this group of four girls who always hung out with this gay dude in tow. He was a guy who dressed in this really unique way, all dolled up, delicate like a girl. He mostly kept to himself, but I'd catch him eyeing me from the corner of his eye.

I've never been into guys, but I've never treated anyone bad either. We studied together, swapped notes on stuff we didn't get, and he never tried anything with me. At most, he'd throw out a joke or two when he was with the girls, but it was all light, chill vibes, and I always handled it fine.

In a chat with that group, I mentioned I was worried 'cause my roommate couldn't cover the bills for the month and went back to his folks' place. As soon as they heard I had the apartment to myself, the girls got all excited and started planning to come over Saturday for some drinks. Of course I was stoked – a bunch of chicks at my place, something was bound to go down for me. The thing is, my place was a total shithole – barely any furniture, I slept on a mattress on the floor, but my dad covered it so I could stay close to the prep course, and I'm grateful for that.

But as Saturday got closer, I noticed something off: all that excitement from the girls just faded. They confirmed they'd come, swore they were in, but in the group chat, they sounded more and more bummed. On the day itself, they all ghosted. A total fucking flake-out.

I spent Saturday glued to my phone, waiting for some text, some confirmation, but the group went dead silent. I was pretty much convinced I'd been stood up when, right at the agreed time, the intercom buzzed. The doorman said one of the girls was coming up. Right away, my mind went straight to: if even one shows, it's worth it.

I rushed to open the door with some hope, but as soon as I saw who it was, my excitement crashed. Him. The femboy.

He stood there, adjusting his bag on his shoulder, like he was waiting for me to speak first. The way he looked at me, kinda unsure, like he was gauging my reaction, already gave me a weird vibe. Out of all the girls in the class, he was the one with the most style in how he dressed – if you saw him from afar, you'd wonder if he was a tomboy chick, you know?

"Hey, man, you good?"

His voice came out a bit higher than usual, almost hiding a thread of nerves.

"All good. You?"

He took a deep breath, tried an awkward smile.

"I'm cool..."

But he wasn't. The way he rubbed the back of his neck, avoided looking me straight in the eye, gave it away.

"Where are the girls?"

I blurted it out, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

He fiddled with his phone, glanced at the screen without real interest, then tossed out the answer like he was winging it.

"Oh... they should be on their way..."

But the hesitation, the pause before answering, made me catch on right away. He was lying. And lying badly.

"Come on in, bro..."

He came in without fuss, walking through the apartment like he was used to it. He went straight to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and stashed the beers he'd brought, but didn't touch them. We started on mine, which were ice cold.

While he rambled about random shit, I just watched. I'd already figured it out. The girls weren't showing. Obvious. They must've set something up, schemed to leave the gay dude alone with me. But honestly, I wasn't bothered at all. He was part of the group too, my buddy just like them.

What cracked me up was the act he was putting on. Even with the lie right there in the open, he kept playing it cool, acting clueless, like he was still expecting the doorbell any second.

I took a swig of my beer, eyed him sideways, and cut straight to it:

"Dude, cut the crap. Just admit it."

He blinked fast, his glass shaking a little in his hand before he let out a fake, forced laugh.

"Admit what?"

His voice was all dramatic, eyes faking outrage.

"The girls set you up to come here alone, right?"

He put a hand to his chest, all theatrical, like I'd accused him of murder.

"Oh, that's mean of you to say..."

Well, I was in my own place, no one would know. And if he told? I'd deny it hard. In the end, a blowjob's a blowjob, and I wasn't gonna turn down some fun just 'cause it was from him.

I looked at him with a sly grin, my hand sliding slow over the bulge in my pants, making it crystal clear what was on my mind. He clocked it right away, his eyes lighting up with anticipation.

"Look, too bad I'm not into guys..."

I teased.

He didn't miss a beat, tilting his head a bit, biting the corner of his lip before answering, voice sweet, almost syrupy:

"But I can be a girl, if you want..."

That made me laugh. His boldness was fun. I leaned forward, like I was sizing up the offer.

"You suck dick like one?"

The way he flashed a little smirk told me the answer before he even spoke.

"Better... Wanna see?"

I ran my tongue over my lips, feeling the thrill mixed with the playfulness.

"Bro, just one thing... I don't kiss guys on the mouth."

He rolled his eyes, pouting all dramatic, but the challenge came right away, loaded with mischief.

"Oh, you homophobe... Let's make a deal? If you like it at the end, you'll give me the biggest kiss of your life."

I laughed out loud. Idiot. A blowjob was just a blowjob. I could easily say it wasn't that great and fuck off. But a tongue kiss? With a dude? No way. That wasn't happening.

He took a slow sip of his beer, tilting his head slightly while fixing his hair, tucking it behind in a natural, almost rehearsed move. His eyes, full of intent, scanned me up and down, like he already knew exactly where this was headed.

And then he crawled.

The moves were weirdly sensual, slow, like a cat stalking its prey. He stopped between my legs, knees on the floor, breath a little quicker. Face low, delicate features, lips parted like he was about to ask for something. But he didn't say a word. Just stayed there, staring at me in a way that made my cock throb even harder in my shorts.

This was new, forbidden, and maybe that's why it was getting me so worked up.

I kept the beer in my hand, pretending to have it together when I was hanging by a thread. I let myself soak in that moment, that tension building between us. And then, without a word, I just nodded, a barely there signal.

He got it immediately.

The little giggle he let out was pure delight, eyes sparkling like he'd just unwrapped a gift. Without hesitation, he slid his hands up my thigh, tracing a slow path to the waistband of my shorts. His fingers worked with insane precision, undoing the button, pulling the zipper, and in one smooth move, he yanked down both the shorts and my boxers, freeing my rock-hard, throbbing cock right in front of him.

He let out a low sigh, eyes devouring every inch. And then, with clear hunger, he leaned in, lips eager for what was next.

He didn't hold back. As soon as my cock was out, he licked his lips, like he was tasting the sight before the touch. His gaze, full of mischief, lifted to mine, like he was waiting for one last okay. I just leaned back on the couch, beer still in hand, making it clear he had me all to himself.

His delicate fingers wrapped around the base first, exploring slow, feeling every pulse of my arousal. He gripped firm, no rush, sliding his warm palm along the length, while his mouth inched closer. The first touch was pure tease: the tip of his wet tongue tracing a lazy path from base to head, taking his time. My body reacted instantly, and he noticed, 'cause he smirked before going on.

His lips parted and the heat enveloped me in a second. He took me in slow, inch by inch, letting his tongue swirl around with crazy skill. The warmth, the suction, the soft touch... it was all perfect. He sucked with precision, switching between slow, deep rhythms and quicker thrusts that stole my breath.

His hands didn't idle. While his mouth worked, one slid down my thighs, scratching lightly, the other steadying the base, stroking in sync with his lips. He let out little muffled moans, like he was totally lost in it, like getting off on this was as big a deal as making me feel good.

I wasn't faking control anymore. My hands ended up in his hair, gripping tight, guiding the moves, feeling his hot mouth take me deeper with every bob. The wet sounds filled the room, mixed with my heavy breathing and his low moans.

He looked up at me, eyes shining with lust, like he was hooked on the moment, like he wanted to see me lose it completely. And when he picked up the pace, sucking harder, using his tongue to tease the tip between pulls, I knew I wasn't gonna last.

I felt the climax building, body tense, breath ragged. He sensed it, letting out a low moan, still sucking hard, not letting me pull away. Cheeks hollowed, perfect rhythm, total surrender.

And then I came, hard, deep in his throat. And he didn't stop. Swallowed it all, sucking through the last spasms, eyes locked on mine, hand still on my base, like he wanted to drag it out as long as possible.

When he finally pulled off, tongue sliding slow as he backed away, he smiled all satisfied, wiping his mouth with his fingertip before licking it clean, teasing.

"So?"

He whispered, still breathless, looking at me like he already knew the answer.

"Worth a kiss?"

I laughed, still catching my breath. He knew how to play. But a tongue kiss? I needed more.

"Turn that ass around."

I ordered, voice firm, full of anticipation.

He didn't hesitate. With the same ease like he knew the drill, he grabbed a small bottle from his bag. Then, no more instructions needed, he got on all fours on the couch.

What happened next was pure instinct. Before I could even say a word, he arched up, offering the most obscene, inviting view I'd ever seen. His ass was... different. Still had that male build, but at the same time, I'd never seen anything so smooth, so flawless. The skin was like silk, not a hair, not a blemish. A ridiculously tiny black thong hugged his curves, holding his balls and his dick, which were half-hard, forming a pink mound of pure excitement.

But it was his hole that really hooked me.

Almost colorless, so pale and delicate it looked sculpted. Round shape, fine, soft folds, the kind of sight that forces you to stare. And he knew it.

He squirted the lube from the bottle into his hands and started spreading it over his body, sliding the slick stuff over every curve, making his skin glisten teasingly. He did it slow, eyes never leaving mine. And then, with a boldness that made my cock throb harder, he focused on his hole, fingers gliding lightly, playing at the entrance before spreading himself for me.

He stayed like that, in that porn-star pose, holding his cheeks apart and showing me everything without a shred of shame. But his eyes were what got me most. He wanted to see my reaction. He wanted to know what this was doing to me.

And fuck, it was doing a lot.

I'd already come, but my cock was still hard, rigid, ready for this person who was challenging me with every move, every look. The way he exposed himself, like he was begging for more without words... pure horniness.

That's when he lifted his hips a bit more, tossing his hair back and giving me a half-smile. His voice came soft, laced with mischief:

"Can I just ask one little thing?"

I figured it was some plea for gentleness, some delicate request. I nodded, expecting anything... except what came next.

"Go slow when you fuck me?"

I teased, voice rough with anticipation.

He laughed, shaking his head, fingers still holding his ass open for me.

"No, babe... the opposite. Fuck me hard. If I say no, you take it as yes, okay?"

That caught me off guard. The boldness, the surrender, the way he wanted it all no holds barred. My cock twitched hard, the lust ramping up even more.

I knelt behind him, hands firm on his slim waist. The sight of that ass arched up, spread for me, slick with the lube he'd applied, was making me lose it. I dragged the tip of my cock over the tight entrance, feeling the hot skin, the muscle clenching at the slightest touch.

"Ready for this?"

My voice came out hoarse, thick with want.

He just moaned in response, a low, eager sound, and pushed his hips back, offering more. I gripped his waist tighter and, without waiting, thrust in.

The pressure was insane. The entrance gave way slow, the heat sucking me in like a tight, hot grip that pulled my cock deeper with wild hunger. He gasped loud, fingers clutching the couch cushions, body shaking under me.

"Fuck..."

He moaned, voice breaking.

I didn't give him time to adjust. I remembered what he'd asked and slammed in hard, feeling the tight resistance give to my push. The slap of our skin echoed wetly, and he let out a long moan, fingers digging into the couch as his body molded to mine. The squeeze was unreal. Every inch of me wrapped in that suffocating heat, the involuntary contractions pulling me deeper, like he wanted to trap me inside. I found my rhythm, starting with deep thrusts, feeling his skin open up to me with every drive.

He moaned, pushing his hips back, begging for more. And I gave it. I held his waist firmer, pounding hard, feeling my balls smack against his. The impact made a hot, hollow sound, that direct skin-on-skin contact keeping me even harder. The feel of our balls touching with every thrust was an extra kick, a different pressure that made it all more intense.

"Yeah... fuck... yeah..."

He moaned in gasps, out of breath.

I didn't slow down. I hammered deep, harder, faster, until he was totally given over, arms giving out under his weight. He collapsed onto the couch, but I yanked him back by the hips, keeping him in position, fucking without mercy, hearing his moans get louder, more desperate.

The couch creaked, our sweaty skin stuck together, the wet slaps of each thrust filled the room along with heavy breathing, muffled moans, the repeated smack of balls on balls.

I felt my peak coming. The pleasure rising like a massive wave, about to swallow me.

"You're gonna cum, aren't you?"

He whispered, breathless, voice full of naughtiness.

I pulled his head back, fingers tangled in his soft, tied hair, forcing him to look at me. He smiled, lips swollen, eyes gleaming with desire.

And then, without thinking, without holding back, without caring about anything else, I pulled his mouth to mine.

The kiss was hungry, urgent. Our tongues met in a perfect lock, a moan escaping him as I took him completely, deepening the kiss while my cock pulsed inside him.

And then I came again. Deep, hard, spasms ripping through me with pleasure as he moaned against my mouth, his whole body shaking under mine.

When I finally let go of his hair, he laughed against my lips, way too satisfied.

I pulled back a bit, still catching my breath, and he licked his lips, teasing.

"So... it was just a blowjob, huh?"

I laughed, wiping my sweaty face.

Son of a bitch.