Hermia Aphrodite (Chapter 1?) by pANTSU

But no, she *was* interested. It was clear in the way she smiled at me, the way she leaned towards me, the thousand little signs that, against all the odds, this beautiful girl wanted me as much as I wanted her. We had a connection. Or so it seemed to me.

Last orders came and went. Closing time came, and we went out together into the warm summer night. We turned to face each other, so close that I could feel her breath on my face.

It was now or never. Slowly, giving her plenty of time to pull away, I leaned forward and placed my lips on hers…

She did not pull away. She did the opposite. Her lips parted, locked with mine. I was kissing the most beautiful girl I had ever seen! She tasted of sweet lip gloss and the last gin we had shared, underlaid by that delicate, unmistakeable feminine musk.

I made to bring her closer, to press her body against mine, but she pulled away, and I thought for one sickening moment that I had blown it! But then she smiled a smile that shone like daylight. “My hotel room is very near here,” she said. “Do you… want to come up?”

YES! Yes yes yes! “Sure, why not,” was what came out of my mouth.

Despite my stupid coolness, her dainty fingers intertwined with mine, and she led me forward.

~#~

No sooner had her hotel room door closed than she was in my arms again, our tongues battling eagerly. It was a small room, dominated by one double bed – the kind of room you could find in a thousand chain hotels across the country – but I was not focused on the décor.

Before I knew it, our clothes were on the floor and we were down to underwear. She wore a nice off-white bra, a pleasing balance between lacy and practical. More concealing than most bras, it still could not hide how perfect her breasts were. Her panties were slightly odd though – opaque and wide, they covered her entire pelvic area, almost like bloomers, if they had been a bit baggier. Still, I wasn’t complaining: having this angel in her underwear, in my arms was a dream, and things were only progressing in one direction from here.

Then she pulled away again. She pushed me down so I was sitting on the bed. All of a sudden, there was doubt in here eyes. Trepidation. Was she not as eager as I had thought?

I had to say it. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t respect myself as a man if I didn’t. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” I told her gently. “If you are having second thoughts, we can call a stop to this right now. I’ll leave. I…”

She interrupted me with a delicate, gentle finger on my lips. “It’s not that,” she said, shaking her head, her golden mane weaving back and forth behind her. “Well, not exactly. There is something I want to show you. That I have to show you. Something I don’t think you have realized until now. I think I can trust you – this is between us now.”

She turned her back. “Once I am done, if you want to go, I won’t stop you. I just…” she trailed off, then heaved a massive sigh, tinged with inexplicable sorrow. She reached behind her, and I saw those dainty fingers undoing the clasp of her bra.

Of course! I thought. She must have breast implants. I should have known those tits were too great to be true. And some people could be self-conscious about that kind of thing. It explained everything. Well, I was not picky about something like this, and the surgeon had clearly done a great job, from what I had seen so far.

But the bra fell to the floor, and she stayed there, facing away from me. Then she heaved another sigh, with a little catch in it that I could not identify, and bent down. Her thumbs went under the waistband of her big pants, and pushed down. I pushed down my own boxer shorts, and my engorged cock sprang free.

Then she turned. And I was greeted with the most exquisite, supreme display of womanhood… except for the undeniable organs of manhood between her legs, where a vagina should be.

She waited there, controlling her impatience with effort and deep breaths that lifted and lowered those perfect breasts, while my mind span like a washer-dryer.

Her – his? – cock was a little smaller than mine, both shorter and thinner, but it was still undeniably a penis. As often happens, it was a darker shade than the skin around it. I could see the purple traceries of veins running up the surface. A few traces of hair could be seen on the scrotum, but the whole pubic area around it had been shaven clean and smooth. It pointed upwards at around a 70-degree angle, signalling her arousal. His arousal.

I had been on the internet. I had seen porn, and drag shows and the like. It had always seemed to me that, when you saw a transvestite or drag artist, no matter how convincing, you could almost always refocus and ‘see’ the maleness in the shape of their face and body. I tried that for a moment with Hermy. But no matter how I looked, I could only see pure femininity. There was not a trace anywhere in her of masculine traits, except that genitalia. But then again, how would I know? Maybe there are loads of them, wandering around with their reproductive organs hidden, as we all do. Maybe the truly authentic ones online are reserved for the premium rate sites that I never bothered investigating because I didn’t think I was interested. Or maybe they all have too much sense and dignity to do porn, as one does.

All I knew for sure was what I had in front of me. And she was all woman. With a cock.

And the strange thing was that it didn’t look out of place. I cannot explain it, but with this one woman and only her, the phallus and testicles protruding between those wide womanly hips, above those long, smooth, shapely legs, it just seemed the most natural thing in the world. Natural and… beautiful.

I don’t know how long we were like that, facing each other, motionless but for our breath. Seconds, certainly. But too many seconds. The beginning of a little tremble ran across her succulent lips, and her blue eyes shone a little brighter with a build-up of moisture. The erection was beginning to fade a little, droop to more like 50 degrees. She took a deeper breath, and I thought I detected the hint of a shudder in it.

“You can g-” she began, but I was already moving. I stood, and closed the distance between us. I lifted my hand. My palm brushed her cheek, went to the nape of her neck, and pulled her towards me. I kissed her. Kissed him. It didn’t matter any more.

I pressed my mouth against Hermy’s, harder than before, forcefully conveying my approval. Two pairs of arms went around two bodies. Full, supple, rounded mammaries met a male chest. Two bellies, one smooth and toned, the other lightly haired, made contact. Two penises touched, and slid across each other, nestled side by side between the two stomachs. Two moans of satisfaction vibrated across each other through two pairs of lips, locked passionately together.

We maintained contact as we fell together onto the bed. Every moment in which I could feel the touch of that warm skin was a blessing. My hand went down, and encircled the member, which was already rapidly engorging back to its full size and turgidity. I did not know what I was doing, only that it felt right, and must be right as long as it pleased this wonderful creature. From the response of the body entangled with mine, I knew that it did please them. Warm, slender fingers wrapped around my own penis. We moved our hands in time.

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