The Concert Connection 1.0

The Concert Connection.

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"I'm so sorry," Kelly said. "I was really looking forward to it."

Kelly and I had been planning to take a road trip up to Milwaukee, Wisconsin, for our tenth anniversary. There was a big three-day metal festival going on there that we had both been excited for.

This morning, however, Kelly had received a call that had thrown all our plans for a romantic weekend together right out the window. Kelly worked for a major railroad company, which you'd know if I mentioned its name, handling incident response and investigations. Before dawn this morning, there was a derailment that resulted in several fatalities and significant damage to private property. Kelly had to get on a plane and fly to Memphis as soon as possible.

So, here I was, driving her to McGhee Tyson Airport, just south of our home in Knoxville, mere hours before we were planning on leaving together on our vacation.

"It's okay," I said, tossing a cigarette butt out the window.

"No, it's not. We really needed this time together."

Kelly traveled a lot for work. On average, she was only home about half the time. Compounding this was the time of day that I worked. I was on the night shift doing fleet maintenance at the Tennessee Department of Transportation in Knoxville. I don't work on the roads, so don't blame me for that. I work on the trucks used to maintain the roads.

Our schedules meant that even when Kelly was at home, we barely saw each other. It was tough, and thankfully, we didn't have any kids yet. We both made decent money and were at points in our careers where the next promotion would mean the freedom of a more normal schedule.

I reached over and held Kelly's hand. "We'll find another time. I still have tons of vacation days I can take, and the railroad is going to owe you for this."

"Damn right, they'll owe me. I got waxed yesterday; cooter, asshole, and everything."

I winced, sympathetically imagining the pain of having her pubic hair torn out by an overly enthusiastic Asian woman in the back room of a salon, and with my very real pain of missing out on enjoying the results.

I parked in the drop-off area in front of the terminal and retrieved Kelly's suitcase from the trunk. She smiled sadly and held my hands. She was wearing black dress pants and a white button-up shirt with the company logo on it. The cut of the clothes complemented her slender frame nicely. She was a few inches shorter than me, but still above average for a woman at 5'-10". She liked to exercise, mostly jogging and bicycling, so despite her thin limbs and low BMI, she had a noticeable amount of muscle tone that I found very attractive. She wasn't at all what you would call voluptuous, with her small, tight ass and B-cup breasts that barely tented her shirt, but I thought she was perfect.

"Have I ever told you how sexy you look dressed like that?"

Kelly smiled. It was her first since she got the call this morning.

"You've mentioned it a time or two." She hugged me tight and made a pitiful little sigh. "I miss you."

"I know," I said, nuzzling my face into her straw-colored hair. "I miss you too. Things will get better, we just need to hang on and take what we can get."

We shared a quick kiss, exchanged "I love you's", and then she was gone. I stood there for a moment, watching through the windows as she walked to the check-in desk. Sighing heavily, I got back into my Ford Fusion and headed home.

I felt so depressed about not being able to spend the weekend with Kelly that I almost decided to just stay home. But Kelly had insisted that I go, that at least one of us could enjoy ourselves.

My bag was already packed, so I gathered my belongings and began the 630-mile drive to Wisconsin.

I checked in at my hotel just before midnight. The drive had been pretty uneventful. I was tired, despite taking a one-hour nap when I stopped for dinner south of Chicago. My eyes were numb from staring at the road for so long, and my lower back hurt.

Despite all this, when I lay down on my room's single Queen-sized bed, sleep didn't come easily. I had to lure it out of hiding with a beer and a handful of melatonin gummies.

I finally gave up and got out of bed at about ten in the morning, after sleeping in. I showered and dressed in my concert gear: black cargo pants, red tee shirt with the "Megacolossus" band logo on it, my ever-present hammer of Thor pendant, and, of course, my battle vest.

Battle vests, if you weren't aware, are the trademark style of metal fans around the world. Each person's vest is unique, featuring an array of patches and pins that represent their musical tastes. Mine had many patches, mainly of bands in the power metal and traditional heavy metal genres, with a few exceptions, notably, a small patch above my left breast pocket for the legendary Cat Stevens. The crown jewel of my collection was my Manilla Road back patch. Covering the majority of the back of the vest, it was a colorful representation of the album art for "Mark of the Beast." Most people thought it was a cool patch, but those who knew and appreciated the roots of traditional heavy metal thought it was awesome. I would often receive comments about it at every concert I attended, usually from guys much older than me.

I looked at myself in the mirror, and honestly liked what I saw. My light blonde hair hung past my shoulders and framed a square, plain-featured face that told of my Swedish ancestry. After the first Thor movie had come out, Kelly had described Hemsworth playing Thor as a more "pretty" version of me. My heritage had blessed me with a sturdy frame and broad shoulders, as well as a metabolism that allowed me to put on muscle mass and stay toned if I kept up with my gym schedule.

The concert venue was only about six blocks away. The doors opened at 2, so at noon I started walking, giving myself plenty of time to stop and have lunch, then socialize with other concertgoers while waiting in line.

I stopped by McDonald's and was waiting for my order when someone just behind me spoke.

"That's an awesome vest."

I turned and saw the speaker. She was younger than I was, in her early twenties, maybe. She had shoulder-length curly brown hair and a shy smile. Her skin was pale and smooth, and she had the cutest little nose. She was wearing a vest of her own, but it had only a few patches on it. The flatness of her vest on her chest told that biology had dealt her an awful hand when it came to having breasts.

"Thanks," I said. "You're going to the show tonight?"

"Yeah. I'm supposed to be meeting someone, but I think they ghosted me."

There was something peculiar about her that I couldn't quite place. Honestly, feeling a little starved for companionship myself, I made an offer.

"You're welcome to hang out with me until they show up."

Her face lit up with excitement. "Thanks! I'm not from here, so I don't really know anyone else."

My order came, but I stood there for another minute until hers came up as well. The girl followed me to a table near the windows.

"I'm Rowan, by the way," I said, offering my hand for a handshake.

Her hand was delicate and slightly clammy, as if she were nervous. She was slender and considerably shorter than I. There was an almost boyish look about her, in the features of her face and her nearly flat chest.

"Morgan," She replied. "I'm from Madison."

"Pleased to meet you. I'm from Knoxville. Drove up yesterday."

"Wow, that's a long way."

"I was supposed to be here with my wife, but she couldn't come with me because of an emergency at her work. It's our tenth anniversary tomorrow." I chewed a mouthful of Big Mac and swallowed. "Who were you supposed to meet here?"

"Oh, I didn't really know him. It was an online hookup. He bought our tickets, and we were supposed to meet at the hotel this morning, but the manager there said that he canceled the reservation, and now he won't respond to my texts."

Now that Morgan was speaking more, there was something different about her voice. As she became more comfortable, there seemed to be a natural husky quality about it that she had been previously trying to conceal.

"That sucks, I'm sorry. You've got your ticket, though?"

"Yeah, he sent me the email with mine in it." She sighed. "It's not the first time something like this has happened."

"Well, you're here, and it's going to be a great weekend of music. Forget about him and have fun."

She smiled. "Yeah. So what bands are you looking forward to?"

We talked about music as we ate, and continued the conversation for a while after we had both finished. We shared many of the same tastes, although Morgan's knowledge of older bands was limited. At one o'clock, we left to walk the last block to the venue. I held the door for her to exit, and couldn't help surreptitiously checking her out as she walked in front of me.

Her butt was cute, small, and firm. As I watched her butt stretch the tight denim of her jeans for a few steps, I noticed that there was something off about how her hips moved, like there was a narrowness to them that was more than just being skinny. As we walked, we continued talking about music, and I studied her more closely. I hadn't earlier because it just didn't occur to me to look that closely at a woman other than my wife.

The truth of what seemed strange about her hit me like a truck. It must have shown on my face because Morgan noticed, and her shoulders fell.

We were both quiet for a while, then Morgan said dejectedly. "You don't have to hang out with me if you don't want to. It's okay."

I've only ever known a few trans people, and didn't fully understand what it meant to be trans or why someone might transition. I didn't have anything in my life that was parallel to it. What I did have was compassion. People were people, and it didn't matter to me what color their skin was, what gender they were, or who they wanted to love. Everyone deserves to be loved and respected for who they are.

"Why wouldn't I want to hang out with you? You're pretty cool."

Morgan stopped walking and looked at me. "Because I'm trans."

"So?" I asked.

"Doesn't it make you uncomfortable knowing that?"

"We're just two people who love music. Does it bother you that I'm a straight guy in a stable marriage?"

"No, but people will see us together and talk about us. Sometimes they can be really mean."

I could see in her face that she had had some bad experiences before.

I held my muscular arms wide. "Look at me. Nobody is going to start shit with me or my new friend, Morgan."

Morgan looked apprehensive, but hopeful. I continued walking, and she followed alongside me.

"Listen, it took me a while to realize it, and it honestly doesn't matter. I have female friends and male friends, and we enjoy each other's company because we share similar interests and genuinely like each other. So what if you're trans. You're a metal head, and I like you."

Morgan's spirits lifted dramatically, and by silent agreement, we shifted our conversation to other topics.

The line for the doors at the venue wrapped around the block, so we waited and chatted with the people in line with us.

I noticed people's reactions to Morgan. Some did a double take, then ignored her; some were uncomfortable and quietly moved away; others were overly polite, almost condescending. A few, I noticed, had a look of anger or revulsion in their eyes, but after seeing me standing next to her, they didn't say or do anything.

I realized that this was what she had to put up with every time she went out in public. Her life was a constant barrage of unfriendly eyes and silent judgment. I couldn't help but feel a heart-wrenching amount of empathy for what she faced daily. I decided to play the role of the ultimate big brother and do whatever I could to make Morgan's weekend a happy one.

By social natural selection, we found ourselves surrounded by people who seemed genuinely accepting of Morgan. It was usual for me to be the center of attention, with my good physique and amiable personality. I answered questions about my vest and shared stories about some of the concerts I had attended. I tried to include Morgan as much as possible.

She seemed to become increasingly comfortable and told us about a power metal festival she had attended over the past couple of years in Madison.

We eventually reached the front of the line, where security was scanning tickets and swiping people with metal detector wands. I got through pretty quick and waited a few steps inside for Morgan.

I heard the guard say. "Sorry, this ticket has already been scanned."

Morgan looked like someone had just punched her in the gut. I stepped back towards her.

"She's with me, what's going on?" I asked the guard.

"Someone already scanned the ticket. I'm sorry, but I can't let her in."

Tears were rolling down Morgan's cheeks, and it looked like she was about to bolt for the door. I quickly pulled my phone back out of my pocket and found the email that contained my and Kelly's tickets. I turned my phone to the guard with Kelly's unused ticket, and put a hand on Morgan's shoulder to keep her from running away.

"Here. My wife couldn't make it. Morgan can use her ticket. She was supposed to meet someone here, but they backed out. Asshole must have sold the ticket to someone."

The guard scanned the ticket and put a wristband on Morgan. Morgan joined me on the other side of the checkpoint and surprised me with a hug. I stood there awkwardly for a moment, then gently patted her back.

Morgan let go and took a step back. "Sorry. It's just- nobody has ever done anything like that for me." She wiped the last of her tears off her face. "Thank you."

Another flood of empathy washed over me. If that small act, letting her have a ticket that otherwise wouldn't be used by anyone, was a kindness the likes of which she had never experienced, my heart ached at the life she must endure.

I smiled at her. "Well, Kelly isn't going to use it. I'm just glad I was here to help you out."

"I'll pay you back. I don't have much money right now, but-"

I cut her off with a raised hand. "It was a gift. You can pay me back by having a good time."

A good time we had, indeed. The venue was a masterwork of organized chaos. There were three different stages in the massive old building, with staggered start times, so at any given moment, at least one band was playing somewhere. We caught some of the bands on the smaller two stages, but the main stage was where the bands we both really wanted to see were playing.

We cheered and headbanged, put our fists in the air, and sang along. As a veteran of many shows, it was pretty epic even by my standards, but Morgan was having the time of her life.

Between bands, we would go outside to cool off, have a smoke, and chat with the other concertgoers.

All in all, the metal community is comprised of the best people. Sure, any crowd is going to have some assholes, but the vast majority of metal fans are genuinely good and kind people. Some of us may look scary, with black leather and spikes, but we'd be the first ones to go "aww" at a cute cat video.

Morgan was loving the attention and talked excitedly with people about anime shows I had no clue about.

At the end of the night, after we had sung ourselves hoarse to The Bard's Song and Valhalla by the headliner Blind Guardian, we made our way through the crowd to the street and the cool night air.

Morgan spoke excitedly. "That was amazing! I've always dreamed of seeing them."

We turned the corner and started heading west on the sidewalk towards the hotel.

"Me too. Hansi was on it tonight. He sounded awesome."

We talked eagerly about what bands we liked most, both sore and numb from standing all day, and both beginning to really feel the chill of the evening from our sweat-damp hair and clothes.

"So, did you get a room at the same hotel that you were supposed to meet that douchebag at?" I asked when we were just a block away.

"No, they were full," Morgan said, dejectedly. "I probably couldn't have afforded it if they did have a room anyway."

"So where are you staying?"

"My car is parked on the street behind the hotel. I've slept on the back seat plenty of times."

"No." I laughed. "You're not spending the night outside in this neighborhood. It might not look bad, but those houses have bars on the windows for a reason."

"Where am I going to go? I can't drive all the way back to Madison."

"I rented my room for two occupants. If they ask, just say your name is Kelly."

Morgan stopped and stared at me. Her face was a complicated mix of emotions that I was too tired to begin to decipher.

"It's just a place for two people to have a shower and pass out."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure I don't want you sleeping in your car." I continued walking. "Come on."

We walked around the block so Morgan could retrieve her backpack from the trunk. Her car was a Honda Accord, beat up and rusty, and older than she was. Hell, it was the mid-90s body style, so it might even be older than I am.

I opened the door to my hotel room and turned on the light. I grabbed one of my beers from the mini fridge and turned to ask Morgan if she wanted one.

She was standing in the doorway, looking at the single bed. My eyes went from her to the bed and back to her.

"Look, I promise I won't make it weird." I held my beer up. "I'm going to have a few of these, and some melatonin gummies, and then I'm gonna start snoring."

Morgan blushed and looked nervous.

"I sleep on my side, and usually right at the edge, so you'll have the whole rest of the bed to yourself." I stood and handed her one of my Budweisers. "Here. I call dibs on the shower."

Morgan took the beer, and I grabbed clean boxers on my way to the bathroom. I showered quickly, and when I exited the bathroom, Morgan was sitting on the end of the bed holding her backpack in her lap. Her empty bottle of beer was on the table.

"Next," I said, grabbing my second beer and the sleep gummies.

Morgan rushed into the bathroom, and I heard the shower turn on a minute later.

Had I not been exhausted, and numb from the concert, had I not had as much to drink throughout the whole evening, I might have seen the glaringly obvious signs; the way Morgan looked at me, the way she had stood close, first for protection then out of affection, the way she smiled when I spoke with her and most recently, her arousal at the thought of sleeping next to me in the same bed. It all pointed to a singular fact, of which I was blissfully unaware.

I pulled back the covers and crawled into bed. Morgan was still in the shower when I lost the battle of consciousness.

I awoke sometime in the middle of the night. I was still near the edge of the bed, but had turned to lie on my other side. Morgan was nestled against me, back and butt against my chest and groin. I had an arm around her, holding her to me.

Morgan's breathing was steady and shallow. I listened to her for a while and felt the slow rhythm of her chest rising and her heart beating.

I didn't remember how we got into this arrangement, though I imagined that my sleeping self had assumed that the thin body in bed with me was Kelly, and naturally pulled it close. I had to admit to myself that it felt good to hold Morgan. She was warm, and her hair smelled fresh and clean, with a subtle hint of her shampoo.

As comfortable as I was, I decided that it would be a good idea to turn over to my other side. I had promised Morgan, mainly as a joke to put her at ease, that I wouldn't make it weird. It seems I unknowingly did just that.

I started to move the arm that was around her, but she had been holding it to herself with both hands. I heard her breathing change, then catch as she held it.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize I did this," I whispered, and started moving my arm again.

Morgan held on to it, pressing my palm against her chest. "It's okay. I like it."

I relaxed my arm, and Morgan sighed softly. We were still for a long time, and I was just starting to think that she had fallen back asleep.

"Rowan, can I ask you a question?" Morgan whispered.

"Of course," I whispered back.

"Promise that you'll tell the truth, even if it hurts my feelings?"

I thought about what she could ask me that would require a caveat like that.

"You're my friend. I won't lie to you."

Morgan took a moment, either to arrange her thoughts or gather her courage.

"Do you find me attractive?"

I have always been attracted to thin, preferably athletic, almost boyish women. That's what had drawn me to Kelly when we started dating as freshmen in high school. Growing up, she had been skinny, and when puberty hit, she hadn't filled out like most of the other girls. Her B cup breasts, preference for shorter hairstyles, clothing choices, and interests made her the quintessential tomboy. As for me, I was the whitest, nerdiest kid in a predominantly African-American and Hispanic school district. We were both social outcasts, and our romance might as well have been scripted by a Disney screenwriter.

I freely admitted to myself my attraction to Morgan, not just to her as a person, but also physically. She fit right into what I had always considered to be my type, with one very major exception: my preference in women had never included the presence of a penis.

"Yes, I do."

"Do you think I'm... sexually attractive?"

I've jerked off to trans porn before (so have you, so don't lie) and can say that Morgan was every bit as feminine and attractive as the most popular trans porn stars.

I recalled the trans porn I had watched and tried to remember what I had thought in the heat of the moment. I had imagined myself looking down at the cute trans girl with the headband that had furry ears on it. I remember how furiously I beat my meat to her little squeals of pleasure as I imagined my cock pounding her asshole open.

After being with Morgan at the concert, getting to know her, to genuinely like and care for her in what I had thought was a brotherly manner, I wasn't quite sure what I felt. Now with her small, warm body pressed against me, I admit to being more than curious.

I could hardly believe what I was feeling. I wanted to have sex with Morgan. Sure, there was an element of novelty to the idea of doing something that I might never have the opportunity to do again, but there was also a desire rooted in affection. I didn't want to fuck her; I wanted to make love with her.

My response was barely a whisper. "Yes."

I could feel Morgan's heart racing, as mine was. She shifted and turned to her other side. Our faces were inches away from each other.

Morgan's expression was a mix of terror and hopefulness. She had the look of a puppy that had been beaten and abandoned, both fearing the painful rejection of personal contact and needing it enough to risk trying.

"Really?" She asked, breathlessly.

I nodded and lifted her chin with a finger, kissing her softly on the lips.

"Are you just doing this to make me happy?"

"I'm doing it because I want to."

She stared at me for a moment, then kissed me. Our lips parted, and our tongues met. I was half expecting it to feel strange, kissing someone who was born male, but it just felt like kissing. Her lips were thin but soft. She was not very experienced, but she learned quickly, following my lead as our tongues explored each other's mouths.

I held the back of her head, fingers entwined in her curly brown hair. She whimpered softly into my mouth when I stroked the tender spot below her ear with my thumb.

Our kiss ended, and Morgan gasped to catch her breath.

"I'm clean and ready... back there." She whispered.

Kelly and I were no strangers to ass play. She was one of the rare women who actually loved anal sex, so I knew that preparing for these things took forethought. Morgan must have cleaned herself out when she took her shower. Wishful thinking on her part, that turned out to be prudent.

I slid a hand down to her bony hip and under the waist of her sweatpants. She wasn't wearing underwear. My fingers found her crack and followed it lower. Morgan's breath caught when my fingers brushed against the head of the plug she was wearing. I carefully grasped it, pulling with enough pressure for it to press against the inside of her sphincter, but not enough to come out. The plug was made of a soft material with a more rigid core, and it was slick with lubricant.

Morgan moaned and pressed against me as I toyed with her ass. I could feel her starting to loosen up more and got to the point where I could easily pull the plug halfway out so its widest part was stretching her.

Morgan's hands roamed my chest, and she nuzzled her face against my neck, kissing it and tickling me with her short, rapid breaths.

My hand moved from her ass to the small of her back, and I pulled her close. She put a leg over my hip and snaked an arm under my shoulder.

We kissed again, and any awkwardness I might have felt was gone entirely. Morgan moved against me like a woman and moaned softly into my mouth like a woman. Her body language was submissive, needy, and sensual.

Without stopping our wet kissing, I turned her onto her back and climbed on top of her. Her legs wrapped around me and pulled. My cock pressed hard against her, and I felt her own smaller hardness pressing back.

I pulled away from the kiss and knelt above her. I slipped my T-shirt off and flung it away, then helped Morgan out of hers. Morgan's hands caressed my chest, following the curves of my muscles.

"You are gorgeous." She said breathlessly.

I smiled at the compliment and felt a slight blush rising to my cheeks.

Morgan was still watching me as I awkwardly removed my boxers, and her eyes went wide when she saw my cock. I thanked my Scandinavian ancestry for many things, and a cock that matched the size of the rest of me was right at the top of that list. I was a little over eight inches long and thick enough to look proportionate.

I saw Morgan subconsciously lick her lips, and I smiled down at her.

I moved up, straddling her bare chest. Moving some pillows, I propped her up slightly and moved closer. She reached out and wrapped her delicate hands around my cock, guiding it to her mouth.

I sighed as her lips wrapped around me. Morgan grabbed my ass with both hands, and I let her control my movement. She started slow, caressing the head of my cock with a swirling tongue. She pulled on me in a slow rhythm, taking me deep into her mouth, and keeping her widely spread lips sealed tight.

Kelly enjoyed giving me blowjobs and would often surprise me at random times, sucking me off and then returning to whatever it was she had been doing. Kelly had honed her technique through years of practice to the point that she could make me come as quickly or slowly as she wished at the moment. I've wondered, though, what it would be like to get head from someone who knew how to pleasure a cock because they knew firsthand what felt good.

Morgan, squeezing my ass, pulled me deeper into her mouth. I could feel my cock sliding against the back of her throat. Her lips parted, and her mouth opened wide as she tried to get me as deep as she could. I felt her start to gag, but she controlled it and pulled hard on my ass. Her eyes closed, and she took me even deeper, taking all but a few inches of my eight-inch cock.

On her urging, I pulled out of her, and she gasped for air. She licked the underside of my head and caressed me with her wet lips as she caught her breath. Morgan pulled on my butt again and took me back into her mouth, but not quite as deeply. At the urging of her hands, I began slowly fucking her mouth. Her tongue was wide against the underside of my cock, and when my strokes pulled me out, she would give my glans a quick flick with the tip. With every deep plunge, my cock hit the back of Morgan's throat, but she didn't gag.

Saliva dripped off her chin, and Morgan looked up at me as she urged me with her hands to fuck her mouth faster. Our eyes locked, and I could see her satisfaction. She eased the pressure on my ass, giving me complete control of my movements, trusting me. Her hands moved between my legs, with one fondling my balls, and the fingertips of the other rubbing my asshole.

The extra stimulation, combined with the hotness of the whole situation, brought me quickly to orgasm. I grunted as my cock began to spasm. Morgan hummed with pleasure and squeezed my balls as I filled her mouth. She swallowed my seed greedily and milked the last drops from me. She licked me clean as I pulled away.

I moved down and lowered myself to her. Morgan's arms and legs wrapped around me and held me tight as our mouths met.

"That was great," I said after our passionate kiss had ended.

Morgan grinned and exhaled with joy. "I'm glad I could do that for you."

I had tasted my cum within Kelly's mouth before, and like every man who is being honest, I've eaten my cum a few times by myself, so tasting it in Morgan's mouth wasn't a new experience, but it made me think. I had never sucked a cock before, had never so much as touched one other than my own. Could I return the oral favor to Morgan? Could I make her come, and swallow it like she had for me? Before this intimacy with Morgan, I would have said no. But now, in the middle of the night, in a hotel room far from home, I decided to fully let go of whatever hangups I may have had and experience the moment.

I kissed her neck, finding to both our delights that the way I kissed Kelly was pleasurable to Morgan as well. I shifted in her arms as my kisses moved from her neck down to her chest. Morgan moaned as I licked and sucked briefly on each of her nipples before resuming my downward trail of kisses.

My fingers hooked under the waistband of her sweatpants, and she raised her hips enough for me to pull them down. I got my first look at her cock as it sprang up to meet me. In short, it was small, but also beautiful. If you had AI make a picture of the ideal penis, it would look like Morgan's, with the one exception that it was only four inches long. Her balls, being of about average size, seemed disproportionately large. I pulled her sweatpants the rest of the way off and tossed them to the floor.

Morgan was completely hairless, and her cock stood out at rock-hard attention, inviting me to touch it. I had never touched a cock other than my own, and so grasped it lightly with my right hand. My hand fully engulfed it, and I stroked her slowly.

Morgan's back arched, and she inhaled sharply at my soft touch. She let the breath out as a long, needy moan as I began to gently jerk her off. I lowered myself between her legs and brought her perfect little cock to my lips. I gave it a few slow licks, then opened my mouth and took her inside.

I tried to remember all the little details about giving blowjobs that I had learned secondhand from Kelly's efforts. I quickly gained an appreciation for the skill and dedication that it must take to become really good at it. I mostly kept my teeth from scraping, and got the hang of swirling my tongue around the head. I took the increased intensity of Morgan's moaning as a sign that I was doing it right. I slowly became more comfortable with having her cock in my mouth, and bit by bit, took her deeper.

I got to the point where my lips would reach the base of her cock, and my chin was pressed against her balls. I nearly gagged at the sensation of Morgan's cock at the back of my throat, but was determined to give her as good an experience as she had given me. I started taking her in faster, using my tongue on the underside as she had done.

Morgan spread her legs and pulled them up, locking her elbows behind her knees so her hips were folded nearly in half. My hands found the base of her plug, and Morgan moaned loudly. I began gently pulling on it as I had before, finding that she was loose enough for it to come out fairly easily. I held just the head of her cock in my mouth, swirling my tongue around it and licking the extra sensitive spot on the underside. I began slowly fucking her with the plug, bringing the widest part of it in and out past her sphincter.

"Lube. Front pocket... of my bag." Morgan managed to say between gasping breaths.

I reluctantly took her cock out of my mouth and found the bottle of lube. I squirted a generous amount on her taint and rubbed it around, coating the smooth, pale skin around her asshole. I carefully pulled the plug all the way out of her, and her ass didn't fully close, giving the perfect opportunity to squirt more directly inside her. I set the lube aside, replaced the plug, and took her cock back into my mouth. I sucked with renewed purpose, feeling an urgent need to make her come.

I wiped my lube-slick hands on my own cock, then continued to play with the plug as I fucked my mouth on her slender cock. I could taste the saltiness of her precum, and I moaned reflexively at my unexpected enjoyment of giving head. Morgan's moaning reached a crescendo, and her body tensed up as she came. I felt a rush of satisfaction as spurt after spurt of hot cum entered my mouth. I'm pretty sure, volume-wise, it was less than I had given her, but it still felt like a lot, and I almost choked as some of it tried to slip down my throat. I had a sudden sense of unease, unsure of what to do with it. I was planning on just swallowing it, but something had given me pause. Was this really the line that I wouldn't cross? It seemed like a silly distinction.

Morgan was watching me. My eyes met hers, I swallowed, and she smiled. I moved up into her eager grasp, and we kissed.

"Was that really your first time doing that?" Morgan whispered as she nuzzled my neck with her nose.

"Yeah. Was it good?"

Morgan barked a quiet laugh. "Obviously!"

We chuckled together and cuddled close. Morgan couldn't stay still; she was constantly rubbing my back and sides with her hands, moving her legs so that they rubbed against the back of my thighs, and kissing my neck.

She whispered into my ear. "I need you inside me."

We kissed and smiled at each other. Morgan brought her legs back up and held them in place with the backs of her arms. I knelt in front of her, slowly pulled the plug out, and set it aside. I shifted my position slightly and rubbed the head of my cock against her asshole, wiping up some of the lube that had come out with the plug. I lined up and pressed against her rosebud.

Our eyes met as I began to enter her. Her needy expression became one of absolute pleasure as the head of my cock pushed past her ring. I buried my cock deeper, inch by inch, until I bottomed out and my balls were pressed into her crack. Even with the work the plug had done, her ass gripped my wide cock tightly. Again, I had a strange sensation that I couldn't believe what I was doing. I had wanted this, but a part of me was surprised at how much I craved it.

Morgan gasped loudly when I bottomed out inside her.

"Oh my God, you feel huge! I think if you were any longer, you'd be coming out of my throat!"

I leaned down and kissed her as I began to slowly pull back out of her ass. She let go of her legs and held my head, kissing me furiously. When I started pushing back into her, her legs wrapped around my butt and, with surprising strength, she pulled me quickly in. She let out an inarticulate exclamation as I bottomed out in an instant. I pulled out, and her legs spurred me to slam in again.

"Yes!" She squealed.

I started a rhythm of deep, steady thrusts, each one pulling out so just my head was inside, then slamming in as deep as I could go. Morgan pulled her legs back, and I put my hands on the backs of her thighs.

I increased my pace, and my balls started slapping against her, wet with lube and perspiration. Morgan's whole body shook with every powerful thrust.

"Fuck-"

Slap! Slap!

"-me-"

Slap! Slap! Slap!

"-harder!"

At this, I increased my pace further until I didn't think I could go any faster. Only rarely did Kelly enjoy this kind of fucking, anally or vaginally. She said that unless she was especially ready for it, it was more painful than pleasurable, that as big as I was, it was almost always better when I went slow. I looked down at Morgan's pale, petite body, at her once again rock-hard little cock bouncing against her belly, and the expression of total rapture on her face.

I kept fucking her, hard and fast.

Morgan gave up trying to speak and began letting out adorable little high-pitched grunts.

Her ass was becoming very loose now, and every time I pulled back so that just the head of my cock was inside her, it remained open, and there would be an occasional fart-like escape of air as I slammed back inside.

As fit as I was, it seemed that Morgan was determined to outlast my stamina. Whenever my pace began to slow, she would grasp frantically at my hips, urging me back to full speed. Eventually, I couldn't continue like this, so I reached down and pulled her torso up to mine. I let myself fall onto my back with Morgan on top of me.

Morgan leaned back and put her hands on the bed near my knees, and began slamming her hips down onto me. With each motion, her cock slapped against her belly. Faster and faster she rode me, cock slapping, and moans of pleasure escaping with heavy breaths.

Morgan cried out and tensed up as she came hands-free. Her cum spattered on her belly and across my chest. She collapsed onto me, shaking from her orgasm. I felt her cum squish between our bodies, hot and sticky. The hotness of seeing her make herself cum just by riding my cock added fuel to my steadily approaching climax.

I grabbed her by the hips and resumed fucking. Even from below, I fucked her ass hard enough that my balls were slapping against her. Morgan buried her face into my neck and ran her fingers through my hair. I was very close to coming now.

"Cum inside me," Morgan whispered between gasps. "I want to feel it."

Seemingly by her command, I came. I pulled her ass down onto me and thrust up with one last mighty slam. My whole body flexed involuntarily with every spasm as my balls sent a torrent of cum deep inside her. Morgan's moan of ecstasy was long and trailed off into a whimper.

People speak of "post-nut clarity", and if you haven't experienced it, I'll tell you that it's genuine. The scope of what Morgan and I had just done hit me. I could have gone my whole life having never been with a trans woman, never seeing the primal need for intimate contact in their eyes. I might have never known what it was like to suck a cock and have it fill my mouth with seed, and then fuck the owner of that cock into a whimpering, sweaty lump of flesh. Morgan had given me that gift, given me the opportunity to share some of my love and lust with someone who desperately needed it. At the same time, I felt a pang of regret. I was, of course, a married man. I loved my wife with all my heart and soul, and I knew that in having this wonderful experience with Morgan, I had betrayed Kelly's trust.

I held Morgan in my arms and kissed the top of her head as we desperately caught our breath. We stayed like that for a long time, giving each other small caresses and the occasional kiss. I massaged her back, kneading her muscles from her shoulders down to her tailbone with my strong hands.

Morgan whimpered again, and when she pulled her face away from my neck to kiss me on the lips, I saw that there were tears in her eyes. I instantly felt concerned that I had let myself be too rough with her.

"Morgan, I didn't hurt you, did I?"

She huffed a sad laugh and sniffed. A tear rolled off her and landed on my face.

"No, you didn't hurt me." She smiled and wiped her tears from my cheek.

"Then why the tears?" I asked

"I came here this weekend hoping to get fucked by a handsome guy and maybe, just maybe, end up with a boyfriend. When that fell through, and I was berating myself for having such foolish dreams, I met you." She gave me a soft kiss on the lips. "You have given me so much more than I could have ever dreamed."

I stroked the side of her face and she closed her eyes, leaning into my palm.

I hesitated, not wanting to hurt her with my words, but they needed to be said. "You know I can't be your boyfriend," I said as kindly as I could. "My wife is my soul mate."

Morgan nodded. "I know, and I'm sorry for making you cheat on her."

I kissed her cheek, tasting a fresh tear that had just rolled down. "You didn't make me do anything. I wanted this."

I had wanted it, and even now, if given the chance to make a different decision, I would still want it.

Morgan was silent, so I continued. "I enjoyed what we did together, not just because it felt amazing, but because it felt amazing to do it with you."

Morgan's teary eyes looked into mine, hanging on every word.

"Morgan, you are pretty, and charming, and funny, and smart. I started caring for you from our first conversation, and that didn't change when the fact that you are trans finally made it through my thick skull. In fact, the more I got to know you, the more I cared about you. If things were different in my life..." I let the unspoken half of that sentence sink in before going on. "I can't give you a relationship, but what I can give you is one perfect weekend. Until I have to leave to go home, I will treat you how you deserve to be treated; with love and respect."

More tears flowed, and she hugged me tight. "Your wife is a very lucky woman. How am I going to find another man like you?"

I stroked her hair and held her. "Just be yourself."

A short while later, we were cuddled together naked under the covers, both sore, exhausted, and smelling of sweat and sex. My arm was around Morgan, and her face was lying against my palm.

Morgan kissed my hand lightly and said in a barely audible whisper. "This has been the best day of my entire life."

"The best day of your life so far," I replied.

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Thanks for reading

NewMountain80