It would be cliché to say that I saw her the moment she walked in the door, just as it would be both cliché and trite to say that it was love at first sight. Both would also be untrue.

The truth is that I have no idea when she walked in; I was sitting at the bar, my back to the door, watching a football game, and I barely noticed her when she slid onto the bar stool two places to my left. Bored and horny after a sexless week of meetings and negotiations, with time to kill on a Thursday night before a Friday morning flight home, I’d hit the hotel bar with a vague hope that maybe an opportunity would arise.

One of those ubiquitous airport hotels, it had the standard bar and lounge that catered to traveling businessmen – and to the hookers who also sought that clientele; I’m sure hotel management doesn’t encourage that trade but is wise enough to recognize the symbiosis and not discourage it either. Looking to spend some time with a beautiful woman and get laid, I wasn’t averse to paying for it if necessary, although my first choice would have been to find a woman that was also looking for a good time. A realist, I recognized that the former was far more likely than the latter.

In any event, when I did first see her it was in the mirror below the television, the mirror bars use to reflect all the colorful, sparkling liquor bottles, a visual siren’s song ensnaring the weak-willed with their mind-fogging and emotion-numbing elixirs.

The bar’s lights gleaming off her raven locks was my siren’s song, far more powerful than anything that could be poured from a bottle; the glossy, soft thickness of her glorious hair sent tingles to all the right places in my body. I wanted to touch her, to run my fingers through her hair and breathe her soft scent.

As I said, it wasn’t love at first sight. Less than two years removed from a bitter and contentious divorce I wasn’t looking for love and very much doubted I would ever put myself through that again. It was, however, lust at first sight; for me, this petite woman with the shimmering black hair held hypnotic allure.

I’d been about to give up, bored with the game, the only women in evidence a couple of hard, worn-looking working girls that had failed to capture my interest. They’d been quickly picked up by a couple of guys more desperate than I, but now, suddenly, with the appearance of this petite, gloriously-coiffed beauty, my chances seemed much less remote and my arousal spiked.

Knowing she was most likely a hooker I mentally shrugged, accepting that possibility, and turned to look at her. She was stunningly beautiful, tiny and exotic, but that wasn’t what had first caught my eye and my gaze soon returned to her hair, thick and glistening black, razor-cut in a layered bob/shag that fell just to her bare shoulders. It was professionally mussed in a sexy bed-head look, rich, silky locks which framed her flawless face.

In the same mirror where I had first seen her, she saw me looking at her and swiveled her stool to face me, meeting my lustful gaze with an open, friendly smile, showing white, even teeth between full, kissable lips. Her makeup was subtle, minimal, and flattering. I was stunned for a second time, her perfect China-doll face and turquoise eyes taking my breath away.

There was the barest hint of Asia in her eyes, a trace of an epicanthal fold that lent an exotic look and worked beautifully with her golden-olive skin and jet-black hair, and her tiny, upturned nose added just the right touch of cuteness to her otherwise ethereal beauty.

She nodded toward the TV. “Who’s winning?”

“The Raiders, unfortunately.”

She laughed, a sultry, musical sound. “You’re a Chiefs fan?”

I shrugged. “No, just a fan of whoever is playing the Raiders. I can’t stand them.”

She laughed again. “I see.” She slid off her bar stool, her back to me in a move no doubt calculated to display her pert little ass, firm and perfect, and moved to the stool next to my own. “May I?”

“Sure, by all means!” I was already envisioning her on hands and knees in front of me where I could look down at that perfect little ass as I slid into her tight pussy. I felt myself getting hard, and her scent, subtle and feminine, fueled the flames.

She wore a short, strapless sheath dress in a deep red, the neckline low across the upper swell of her small breasts, nipples hard and eye-catching; scooped lower in the back, it displayed an alluring expanse of perfect, flawless skin from just below her luscious hair down to the smooth northern hemisphere of that fine ass. Even in her four-inch heels, she was tiny, not as tall as I was sitting down; she couldn’t have been even five feet tall barefoot.

Her dress barely reached past her ass, and it rode up as she climbed up onto the stool. She tugged it down, but not before it had slid up almost to her hip; I’d seen no trace of panties, not even a tiny thong, and the thought of her in that tight little dress, pussy bare, sent a surge of blood to my swelling cock.

To my amazement, she started talking football! She was well-versed in the sport and our conversation moved easily from the teams currently playing to the NFL in general, and then to college teams. A true fan, she knew the intricacies of the game, and while I found myself chatting with her comfortably and casually I also found myself enchanted by her sultry velvet voice, and by the way her eyes so eagerly searched my face as she hung on my every word.

She was either well-practiced in the art of seduction, a seasoned pro at making the target of her attentions feel important and masculine, or she was just one of those women that are born with it, with the innate ability to charm any man. It was undeniably effective; I was finding her more attractive by the minute.

She’d introduced herself as Tina, and I told her my name, Dan; single, I used my real name, no reason to worry about revealing my identity. I was beguiled by how easy she was to talk to, and how interesting. The near-instant rapport we seemed to have was unexpected, but I found myself enjoying it immensely as our conversation ran the gamut from sports to current events and even into our personal lives. My fatigue and boredom evaporated as I became thoroughly engrossed in her.

Tina made the next move, touching my hand and then my knee; when I didn’t object, her delicate hand wandered up my thigh. It wasn’t yet a sexual touch, but it was intimate, and while I won’t say I didn’t enjoy it I recognized it for what it was, something between flirtation and seduction. Since that meshed perfectly with my own plans I encouraged it by touching her in return, softly stroking her forearm and then her bare shoulder. By that point, we both knew where things were headed.

Playing the game, I offered to buy her a drink. She accepted, and as I called Carl, the bartender over, she slipped off to “visit the little girl’s room”, promising to hurry back. She took her purse and I watched her walk away, enjoying the swing of her hair and the sexy sway of that tight little butt as she balanced on her tall heels.

Carl reached me as she turned the corner, disappearing, but he’d seen me watching her. “I see you met Tina.”

“I did; she’s stunning, and she seems very bright.”

He nodded stoically. “Yeah, she’s something special.”

“Does she come in here often?”

“Not as much as some of the other girls,” he shrugged. “She’s also very selective with the men she talks to, but she lit on you right away.”

“My lucky day.”

He laughed. “Apparently.” He left to fix our drinks.

I’m not a lady killer by any means, but I’m no Quasimodo either; I’m six-three, a lean 198 pounds, and at forty-two I keep myself fit and trim; I also dress well, in Brooks Brothers or bespoke designer suits. That evening I was still in my suit slacks with a white pinpoint shirt, also Brooks Brothers, open at the collar and casual, and tan Moreschi calfskin loafers; if it looked expensive it’s because it was, and I wondered if that had anything to do with her coming on to me. Not that it mattered, really.

On the other hand, I’d noticed that since my brown hair had gone gray at the temples, women somehow seemed more attracted to me. I’d been horrified when I saw the first few gray hairs show up, back in my mid-thirties, but now that I had white sidewalls women seemed to find it irresistible. Maybe it matured me; some said it made me look “distinguished” and worked well with my hazel eyes. I’d thought of it as extinguished rather than distinguished but was willing to accept their opinion over my own.

Carl returned before she did, carrying our drinks, and we chatted as I waited for her. The bar wasn’t busy, and he turned out to be gregarious. He’d just told some dumb joke, and I was laughing as Tina came around the corner; tiny, gorgeous, and perfect, her doll-like beauty and femininity took my breath away once again.

“Damn, she’s just incredible!”

Carl chuckled. “Yeah, she’s a rare beauty. The rarest.”

He wandered away, giving us privacy like a wise barkeep should. We drank and chatted, enjoying each other’s company. She’d moved her bar stool closer to mine when she’d returned, and our touching became more intimate and sexual; when I stroked her delicate jawline and then her slender, graceful neck and ran my fingers through her silken hair for the first time my cock throbbed with arousal, and when she ran her fingers lightly across the bulge of my erection it was obviously time to move on.

She stretched to nuzzle my neck, and I felt her soft lips graze my jaw as I breathed her seductive scent. She whispered, “You have a room here…?”

“I do, yes. Can I invite you up?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” She slid from her stool and took my arm when I rose. Standing, the top of her head barely reached my collarbone, even in her tall heels, and I was again struck by how very small and delicate she was. She couldn’t have weighed over ninety pounds!

I asked Carl to have a bottle of wine sent up to my room, and in the elevator, we kissed. It surprised me because I’d heard that hookers don’t kiss much, but Tina was hungry and insistent, stretching up to meet my lips as I bent to hers. They were as soft and lovely as they’d looked, and she thrust her tongue into my mouth demandingly as she reached down and cupped my package, her fingers kneading my hard cock through my pants.

She smiled up at me seductively. “Mmm, very nice, so big and hard. I can’t wait to slide my lips over it and feel you inside of me.”

I smiled back. “It’s like you read my mind.” I wrapped my arms around her, allowing my hands to slide down her sleek back to that delicious little ass, squeezing it, each of my hands covering one small, firm cheek. “You’re an incredibly beautiful woman, and this little butt of yours is amazing. You’re not going to mind if I spend a bit of time kissing and nibbling it, are you?”

She sighed happily. “Not at all; I’m looking forward to it.”

“I haven’t told you this yet, but I love your hair too; I have a thing for sexy hair, and yours is like my best fantasy come true.”

She laughed, a rich, sensual sound. “A handsome man with a hair fetish who likes tiny little asses – I think we were made for each other!”

“You think it’s a fetish, my hair thing?”

“Isn’t it? It’s alright if it is, Dan; we all have them in one way or another.”

“You think so?” I’d never thought of my appreciation of beautiful hair as a sexual fetish before.

She laughed again, like warm velvet. “Oh, trust me! There’s not a soul alive who doesn’t have one small thing or another that becomes a fixation.”

In her line of work, she’d probably seen many things that I couldn’t begin to imagine. I nodded, “I’m sure you’re right, and I guess you’d know more about that than I would. Speaking of which, we haven’t discussed this yet, but I’m sort of assuming that this is a cash transaction…?”

The elevator reached my floor, the fifth, and the door slid open. She leaned back against the open door so that it couldn’t close. “Is that going to be a problem?” There was that frank, honest stare again.

“Not at all; I just wanted to be sure we were clear.”

Tina smiled. “I usually get between five and fifteen-hundred if you want me to spend the night.”

I was surprised; I haven’t been with many hookers, but it was more than I’d ever paid. Then again, she was by far the most beautiful, sexy, exotic one I’d met, and I knew that her small size alone would fascinate many men; the idea that she could command such a price was not inconceivable.

I covered by saying, “That’s a pretty broad range. How do you decide what to charge?”

“I don’t, you do. You pay me what you think I’m worth. I like you, you’re a good guy; I trust you to do what you think is right.”

She’d succeeded in surprising me yet again. “Thanks, I appreciate that, but it’s a risky way to do business.”

She shrugged. “I try to be very selective and very careful.”

“Carl said that about you; seems he was right.”

“He’s a decent guy. So, are we good then?”

“Sure, yeah; no problem.” I had a hunch this might easily cost me the full fifteen hundred, she was already that special to me.

She took my hand and led me from the elevator; I turned us toward my room as she said, “Good, because I’m very horny!”

When I laughed, she looked up at me. “Is that funny? You don’t think a girl like me can get horny for her date?”

I shook my head. “No, it’s not that. Just the way you said it so bluntly caught me off guard.”

She giggled, the first truly ‘girlish’ sound I’d heard her make. “Well, I am! You might be surprised to know that you’re all my fetishes, wrapped up in one incredibly handsome package. I love older men!”

“Oh, thanks a lot! I’m not that much older… how old are you?”

“I just turned twenty-one.”

“Huh! Maybe I am that much older; I’m twice your age.”

She smiled, and as I swiped my key to open my room, she reassured me. “It’s alright, Dan. I love that about you. I love your maturity, the self-assurance that comes with it; you’re obviously successful and confident, tall, very masculine. That’s all good. I love the gray at your temples and the little lines around your eyes and mouth that say you smile and laugh a lot; it’s all very attractive.”

I smiled and bent to kiss her. “Thank you… I think. I’ve told you how much I love your little butt and your gorgeous hair, but I failed to mention that when I first saw you, you took my breath away. You’re an incredibly beautiful, sexy, sensual woman.”

She smiled happily and flowed into my arms for a hug before guiding me backward to the bed, where she pushed me back so that I sat on the edge of the mattress. She crawled up onto my lap, straddling my legs, and we kissed, tongue-wrestling as she unbuttoned my shirt. I put my fingers to work sliding the short zipper on the back of her tight sheath down and soon pulled it away, baring her small, perfect breasts.

Her nipples were very erect, delicious little raspberries at the peak of her miniature mounds, and when I bent my head to suck on them she moaned low in her throat in appreciation. As I enjoyed sucking and licking her hard little nipples, she worked my belt and zipper until she’d freed my erection, which stood up hard and throbbing from my open pants. By now my balls felt heavy with arousal, the annoying ache of several days of unmet need replaced by an exhilarating pressure.

Her fingers roamed expertly over me, her touch light and sensual. She leaned back, pulling her breasts away from my lips, and looked down. “My god, you have a gorgeous cock, so big and thick and hard!”

I’m not; I’m right around average, but watching her fondle me I could appreciate how much her tiny hands exaggerated my size. It was oddly gratifying, despite recognizing reality, and I enjoyed it.

“That feels amazing, Tina. I love the way you touch me, so soft and delicate. It’s a tease, but it’s great.”

She smiled as she stroked my cock, reaching one small hand beneath to hoist my eager balls out as well before squeezing them gently but firmly. I ran my hands up the outside of her thighs and under her dress, curious to explore her apparent lack of underwear, but ran into a small, taut string above each hipbone.

“Ah, you do have panties on! I was betting that you didn’t.”

She laughed. “It’s just a tiny thong – more of a g-string, actually.”

Whatever she chose to call it, I wanted to feel the heat of her pussy and find out if she’d truly been aroused, maybe enough to soak through the crotch of her thong. I returned my hands to her knees, slowly stroking down her silky-smooth legs, then very lightly ran the backs of my fingers up the insides of her thighs. I felt her shudder as I stroked that special erogenous zone.

Her skin was astonishing, smooth, soft, and warm, and when I felt the lace edge of her panties I ran my fingertips over the silky fabric at the crotch, feeling her heat. It didn’t feel wet, however; in fact…

I was puzzled for a brief moment as my fingers explored her sex, and when it suddenly dawned on me what I was feeling I didn’t think and didn’t speak; unable to accept what I’d felt, I simply reacted! I leaped to my feet, dumping Tina unceremoniously onto the floor. I’m not sure if I jumped over the bed or did a backflip across it, but next thing I knew I was standing on the far side of the bed, my back to the wall. The king-size bed was between us as she rose to her feet, a shocked, hurt expression on her face, staring at me.

“What?”

“What? You’re a guy, that’s what! Jesus Christ!”

“I thought you knew!”

“No, I didn’t know! How could I know? I mean, look at you!” I’d honestly had no inkling whatsoever, so my shock was real and complete.

“Guys always seem to be able to tell somehow – and I saw you talking to Carl, and laughing; didn’t he tell you?”

“Carl knows? Great! No, he didn’t mention that little detail.” From what my fingers had felt, the “little detail” hadn’t seemed all that little. Suddenly, Carl’s “rare beauty” comment took on an entirely new meaning. “Fucker. I shouldn’t have tipped that asshole.”

“Dan, I’m very sorry.” She looked embarrassed and hurt. “I really thought you knew. Other than that, for all intents and purposes, I think of myself as female; as a real woman, if that helps at all.”

“You have a dick.”

“Not by choice; I was born with it.”

“So was I, Tina, and therein lies our problem… I assume Tina isn’t your real name?”

She – he – nodded. “It is now, I had it legally changed. I was Tim once, long ago, in the dark ages.”

I ran my hand through my hair, confused and exasperated. “Fuck, this is messed up.”

“It doesn’t have to be, Dan. I really like you, and I thought you liked me too…” Her voice was almost pleading – and yes, I still thought of her as a ‘her’, despite what my fingers had told me; she’d been a stunning, gorgeous woman to me all evening, the benchmark of sensual femininity, and my mind wasn’t making the transition very smoothly. ‘She’ was male; we’d kissed, with tongue! I’d sucked on her nipples, for God’s sake, and played with her ass and legs as she’d fondled my cock!

I sighed. “Tina, this isn’t what I was looking for, I promise you… I didn’t know. Look, you should probably go.”

Her shoulders slumped, and she stared at me. Tiny and forlorn, her red dress bunched around her waist, breasts exposed, she was obviously hurting, the picture of feminine vulnerability. We simply looked at each other for a very long moment which seemed to stretch, both of us embarrassed and disappointed. I finally broke the awkward silence, my curiosity getting the better of me.

“Tell me about your boobs.”

“They’re store-bought, obviously.”

I snorted in surprise. “That’s something a guy would say.”

She shrugged. “There you go, then. They are; what else was I supposed to say?”

“Well, they sure fooled me. They’re very beautiful. Perfect, really.”

“They should be, I paid a fucking fortune for them.” She paused, her eyes searching my face, before saying, “It really felt good when you sucked on my nipples.”

I felt the heat on my face as I blushed, remembering how delightful and arousing I’d found them, and for the first time, I realized that I was standing with my pants around my ankles and my boxers around my knees, my junk fully exposed. I’d gone totally limp, of course, my arousal of moments earlier utterly gone, so I was just hanging there flaccid and forlorn myself. I quickly tugged my boxers up to my waist.

She smiled a wan smile. “No need to be embarrassed, Dan; I’ve seen how magnificent your cock is in all its glory. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen one wilt quite that suddenly before, though.”

I nodded. “Yeah, shock will do that.”

She smiled, then snickered. I laughed. That made her laugh, and the next thing we knew we were both laughing our asses off, tears running down our cheeks. The sheer ridiculousness of the situation, the awkwardness and embarrassment, was suddenly hilarious, and all we could do was laugh at ourselves. It was cathartic.

As we both sobered, her eyes again searched my face. When I didn’t say anything she sighed and began to tug her dress up. “I guess I should go. I’m sorry for the misunderstanding.”

“Me too. I suppose I should have realized…”

“Sshhh, no, it’s not your fault. I try to be as feminine as I can; I should have made sure you knew.” I’d pulled my pants up and walked around to the foot of the bed by then, and now she came and stood right in front of me, looking up into my eyes for a moment before turning her back. “Zip me, please?”

It was so familiar and feminine that I didn’t even think. I’d done the same for my wife and other women many times, so it felt completely natural. I fumbled momentarily for the zipper pull before sliding it up, very aware of her tiny stature and flawless figure. Confused by the sheer normality of it, I put my hands on her shoulders. “Tina…”

Before I could say more there was a knock at the door. When I looked over, surprised, she said, “The wine you ordered.”

“Oh, of course.” At the door I took the bottle and two glasses, setting them down before I paid the room service waiter. When I turned around Tina had recovered her purse and was finger-combing her hair, preparing to leave.

I stood with my back to the door as we looked at each other for several seconds; she looked sad and disappointed, the way I felt. “Stay.”

“What?”

“Stay and have a glass of wine. I can’t drink this whole bottle alone, I have a flight tomorrow.” It was impulsive, but I don’t like to hurt people; while I can be as ruthless as necessary in a business setting, it’s because I know my counterpart will be the same. In private life, I don’t feel a need to cause unnecessary pain. In addition, I’d really enjoyed her company.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I am. Have a seat.”

She sat on the edge of the bed, folding her legs under her while I did the honors. I handed her a glass of Merlot before taking a seat on the desk chair, swiveling to face her. “So, aren’t we a pair! Odd evening, huh?”

She sipped her wine and shook her head ruefully. “Very.”

“Tell me why you’re so tiny.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I think that’s why I was so taken in; if you were some big, lumbering thing with an Adam’s apple, a five o’clock shadow, and hands like dinner plates, I’d like to think I would have realized…”

She giggled, then shrugged. “My father is not a big man, and my mother is Thai and very petite. I was doomed. You’re a big guy so you don’t think about it, but there’s no advantage in being a very small man; a petite woman, on the other hand…”

I nodded. “Yeah, I can understand that. Which side of the family gave you those beautiful eyes?”

“That’s would be Bausch and Lomb; turquoise contacts. My eyes are actually the exact same pretty hazel as yours.”

I smiled. “Please tell me you’re not wearing a wig.”

“No, the hair is mine, part of my Thai heritage. You still like it?”

“I do, it’s beautiful.”

“The tiny little ass you liked so much is also home-grown. Everything except my boobs and my eyes is original equipment.”

I laughed. “Now see, that’s something else a guy would say; I guess I should have known when you were so knowledgeable about football.”

“Girls can like football too.”

“Yeah, but they don’t usually understand all the nuances like you do.”

“Male chauvinist!” She was smiling as she said it, and when I laughed she rose and walked behind me, putting her hands on my shoulders; I felt myself tense up. She leaned close to my ear and I could feel her warm breath on my neck as she whispered, “It doesn’t have to be a wasted evening.”

I closed my eyes as I breathed her intoxicating scent. “Tina…”

“Sshhh, just listen. I can feel the tension in your shoulders and see it in the way you’re sitting. I’m a licensed masseuse, it’s how I make my real living. I’ll give you a free massage to make up for what happened earlier.”

I didn’t correct her gender-bending on her massage license; I was doing my best to continue to think of her as female, so there was no point. “No, I’d pay you for that. I’m just not sure if I…”

“Dan, don’t say it.” She put her arm around my neck and I felt her lips brush my ear and smelled the sweetness of the wine on her breath. “Wait, let me show you something.” She moved to my side. “Unzip me.”

I did, and she moved to the open area at the foot of the bed and turned her back to me. She pulled it down to her waist, then lower, the tight sheath requiring several very seductive little butt shimmies to get it past her hips. Once free, she let it drop to the floor and looked at me over her shoulder. “You like this view?”

Despite what I knew, from the rear, she was the picture of petite femininity. Other than the tiny strings of her little g-string and her heels she was naked. Tawny, flawless skin, slightly wider shoulders tapering to a small, narrow waist, the flare of her hips, smooth, shapely legs and that amazing, tight little ass, now revealed in all its glory, it was an incredibly seductive image of a very sexy girl; there wasn’t a penis or a testicle in sight.

She twisted at the waist, offering me a nice shot of side-boob, her breast small but perfectly formed; I defy anyone looking at the view I now had to think of Tina as anything other than a tiny, sensual woman. Despite everything, I felt my pulse quicken and little electric shocks in my groin.

“You told me before that I was beautiful. Am I still?”

“Tina…” I sighed. “Yeah, you are, goddamn it.”

She smiled happily and turned toward the bathroom, and I watched her walk away. It was weird, but I knew I still wanted her. She returned with a stack of towels and spread a couple on the bed, tossing another to me.

“Here. Now strip and lie on the bed face-up and we’ll get started. You can put that across your hips if you’re feeling shy.”

She’d been very careful not to reveal a front-view of her g-string pouch to me, turning her body or hiding behind the towels. The reason was obvious, but I let it slide for now and followed directions. I lay down on the towels and used one across my groin; call me a coward.

She poured some oil into her hand from a bottle she took from her purse and started on my right ankle, working up my leg, her tiny hands surprisingly strong and sure. At my thigh she worked the large muscles before sliding her hand under the towel, her fingertips occasionally grazing my scrotum or my cock in what could have been incidental contact. I knew better, and despite everything, I could feel myself beginning to respond.

She must have felt me begin to tense up because at just the right moment she moved to my left ankle and started again. This time she touched me more freely. I was less tense, and the bulge beneath the towel grew. When she ran her oily fingers the length of my swelling shaft I groaned, which was apparently her signal to move on to my arms and hands, then my stomach, chest, and sides.

I muttered, “Cock tease.”

She smiled, and I saw that her face and neck were flushed with arousal. “Yes, I am. Okay, now turn over and then turn your head the other way, Dan. I need to kneel on the bed to do your shoulders and neck and I don’t want you to look at me yet.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Nope. We’ll need to cross this bridge.”

“Dan…”

“Get busy, young lady; I’m paying you for a massage.”

She cocked her head and smiled nervously. “Yes, sir! I do so love a strong, decisive man…”

I rolled over, discarding the modesty towel, but kept my head turned toward her, I closed my eyes as she crawled up onto the bed. When I felt her dribbling oil onto my upper back, I opened them. She was kneeling, sitting back on her feet, knees apart, and I was looking up the alley formed by her inner thighs… right at the bulging, semi-sheer pouch of her little g-string. It wasn’t jarring; I knew she was a he, so I’d sort of known what to expect. I’d thought maybe I’d feel repulsed, however, and I didn’t.

Instead, I was surprised to realize that I was intrigued and mildly curious, maybe even a little bit aroused. The fact that this was the only visible hint of Tina’s masculinity was a paradox, one which left me with unfamiliar butterflies of uncertainty in my stomach. This one hint, however, was utterly, unabashedly masculine; the girl was hung.

Through the thin fabric I could make out a smooth, heavy scrotum filled with a pair of healthy-sized balls; tucked down over her stuffed sack was a substantial cock, forming a long, arching bulge, the rim of the swollen crown a ridge around it. I don’t think she was erect but appeared partially so, thick and full. Everything appeared smooth and entirely free of hair except for a neatly trimmed triangle of black curls right above the base of the thick shaft.

“Dan?”

“Uhh, what?”

She’d interrupted my jumbled thoughts. Our eyes met, hers an unreadable pool of emotions. “Are we okay?”

“You know… yeah, I think I am. You?”

“I’m fine. You’re not grossed out?”

“No, Tina, I’m not. You didn’t tell me you were hung.”

She blushed prettily. “Not huge; it looks big because I’m so small.”

“Well… You’re definitely the best-hung woman I’ve ever been with.”

That earned a peal of laughter, sweet and musical, and when she leaned down to kiss me I returned it with no second thoughts. “You’re a strange man, but you’re funny and very sweet. What made you change your mind?”

“You did. When you whispered in my ear that it didn’t have to be a wasted evening, and you smelled so damn good.” I paused, then plunged. “Tina, I’ve wasted too many evenings with women I didn’t really care about just to get laid; it leaves me sexually satisfied but hollow, you know? Empty… lonely.”

She was watching me, waiting for me to continue. “You’re beautiful, which is a great ice-breaker, but with you, I felt a real connection. I liked… No, I like you. I enjoy your company, your intelligence, your wit – your beauty, of course - and I wanted very much to be with you. I decided not to let a little thing like a penis stand in our way.”

She laughed again. “You just said it was a big thing.”

“Yeah, well… You’ll find I contradict myself a lot. Now, about that massage I’m paying you for…”

She mock-saluted. “Yes, sir! May I straddle you? It will make it much easier.”

I hesitated, then played along. “You will be at some point anyhow.”

She blushed again but soldiered on, swinging a leg over me and settling on my stomach. As she began to work on my neck and shoulders from this more advantageous position I raised my head to look at her. I don’t know if it was my change of heart, my acceptance of who and what she was, or if it was just the fact that our bodies were in such close contact, but she was very aroused now, fully erect, hard and straining.

Her cock had escaped the confines of its little pouch and extended proudly, hard and thick, three or four inches above the waistband. Shiny with oil and leaking precum, I found it oddly arousing. It surprised me.

When I said, “Why don’t you take that off?” my voice sounded strained.

“You take it off me.”

I didn’t hesitate; I slid my fingers under the side cords and tore it free, dropping it on the floor. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

“Mmm, yes, you will.” She leaned forward, sliding her balls and hard cock in the oily sheen on my stomach as we kissed again, and then she began to slide down my body. I felt the softness of her smooth scrotum on my sex and our hard cocks sliding against each other as she continued down, and then my own hard cock against her taut stomach, her diamond-hard nipples against my abs.

Her hands were soon on me, warm and slippery, massaging my cock and balls. It felt amazing, and when she sat back on her haunches between my legs to stroke me, her own cock throbbing and pointing skyward, I stuffed a pillow under my head so I could watch.

She masturbated me skillfully, the oil making my hard cock shine as her hands moved over me. She touched all the right spots with an expertise that maybe only one with a cock of their own might possess, teasing the sensitive crown, my balls, my perineum and even tickling my ass, her touch always as light or as firm as needed, and just when I thought I couldn’t take any more she leaned forward and took me into her mouth.

She didn’t ask me first, which was probably good instincts on her part, and if anything, her fellatio technique was even better than the handjob, her lips and tongue performing magic tricks that soon had my teapot boiling. I groaned. “Fuck, Tina, you’re going to make me come.”

She let me slip from her lips and looked at me, one small hand tightly gripping my rock-hard shaft. “I know. Do you want to come in my hands, in my mouth, or inside of me?”

This, I suppose, was the moment of truth… or one of them, at least. I knew what she wanted, but asked anyway. “Where would you like me to come?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Inside of me, but I’ll understand if that’s…”

I stopped her. “I’d like to try, I think, but I…” I’d been about to caution her, to say that I didn’t know what might happen; I was afraid I’d lose my erection and was strangely more worried about it hurting her feelings than I was about it embarrassing me. It was her turn to interrupt.

“Sshhh, no, I know. I appreciate what you’ve done so far, Dan; you’ve come a long way, more than I could have expected. We’ll take things slowly.”

She stood up, straddling my hips, and I stared up at the underside of her rampant cock, thick and shimmering with oil, and at her heavy balls. I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes away, but I found her little triangle of black pubes incongruous, given her otherwise smooth flawlessness.

“Why did you leave the patch of curls?”

She giggled. “I’ll show you, but not right now.” She looked down at my straining erection. “You’re still hard.”

“Indeed I am; so are you.”

“I wasn’t worried about me.” She turned around so that she was straddling me again but facing away and my view was of her sleek legs, tight little ass, and the flare of her hips below her slender waist. She bent forward slightly and shook that delicious little bottom at me. “How do you like this view?”

I liked it very much; I couldn’t see her equipment dangling between her legs, and I realized that she was cupping herself with one hand, holding her balls up so as to not add that discordant note to my view. What I saw was a very small, very beautiful woman, with a very small, firm, perfect ass, her tight, puckered brown star gleaming with oil as it winked at me. It was all just incredible.

“I like it a lot, Tina.”

“I thought you might.” She slowly lowered herself onto me, settling her bottom against my groin and grinding her hips so that my oily cock, trapped against my stomach, slid in the valley between her taut buttocks. She was still cupping her package with her hand so that I wouldn’t feel her ballsack hanging against me.

My mind knew that this wasn’t a standard double-x chromosome woman, but my body seemed more than willing to accept the counterfeit; my heart was racing with an odd mixture of arousal, excitement, and fear of the unknown, and I groaned as she slid her ass along my aching shaft.

Satisfied that I was rock-hard, she raised up and reached back with her free hand; seizing my cock and holding it upright, she lowered herself until my tip was against her tight, oil-slick pucker. “May I?”

“God, yes!”

I put my hands on her hips and stared as she pressed down, forcing her tight anus to stretch around my swollen mushroom, and I heard her gasp as I finally penetrated her, the head of my cock slipping into her tight heat. On second thought, it may have been me that gasped, or maybe both of us. She slid slowly down the length of my shaft, incredibly tight and hot, taking all of me.

I felt her body shudder with pleasure as she groaned, “God, that feels so good! Your cock is huge!”

Sensing that it wasn’t a time for modesty, I avoided my usual self-deprecation and thrust hard into her instead. She cried out and held herself against me tightly, her free hand seizing my balls. “Fuck, ohh, fuck! Ohh, god yes, fuck me! Please fuck me!”

I did, thrusting my hips up in a rhythm she soon matched, expertly riding my cock so that she could enjoy my full length sliding in and out of her but never allowing me to slip free. It was skillful and intense, her tight opening squeezing me firmly, milking my shaft. I’d had my hands on her hips, holding her as I fucked her ass, but when she leaned back over me I let them slide up and around her ribs to cup her breasts.

Her nipples were hard and oily from sliding against my skin earlier, and when I tweaked and pinched them I felt a spasm ripple through her, her slick opening clamping tightly on my cock. She had both hands back, braced against my chest, and I suddenly became aware of her heavy-hanging balls slapping against my own on every downstroke. It was decidedly different, but not unpleasant.