Sneak Peek: David and Chad (Patreon)

A somewhat salacious scene, a sneak peek of the previous night that David spent with Chad.  Enjoy!  As always, sneak peeks are still at the draft stage.

***

Many hours later, recovering alone in his room that evening, he lay alone on his bed in the dark and stared at the ceiling. He knew that he wasn’t really alone. The armband at his wrist continued to monitor and transmit his location and vital signs—any erratic action and he’d be instantly tranquilised. Hidden cameras watched him as well and followed every movement of his naked body. Perverts, he thought, but the hazy remnants of the drugs in his system slowed his thoughts and quenched the fire of his anger.

Robbed of strength, he lay there languidly and felt the tingle at the tips of his body as the anaesthetic slowly faded from his system. It felt as though his entire body was abuzz, a pleasurable but distant humming of the skin as the cool air of the room breathed over him. Fingertip and toes tingled, the tip of his nose, an almost erotic tightening in every extremity. He felt it most strongly in now-erect nipples, tight little insistent buds demanding touch, and it made him think of Chad.

Too tired and weak to suppress the memories any longer, David finally gave himself over to them. In his half-drugged state, he groaned and sighed and drew one limp arms across his eyes.

He remembered fumbling at the door and falling through. Taking the man by the hand and leading him into the apartment. Grabbed from behind—“nice ass,” he said—and being spun about and then kissing, Chad’s roaming hands delineating femininity, fingers tracing every curve and drawing sensuously over shoulders and sides, face and thigh. A sinuous wiggle, and David slid the skirt down past his hips and let it pool at his feet and with a smooth movement and flick of the arms sent his top flying across the room. He stood resplendent in the bridal brilliance of ivory corset and bra and suspender belt and stockings, teetering only slightly in the towering heels from the day’s earlier photoshoot.

With an appreciative whistle, Chad drew him closer. With the thumb of both hands touching, the man stretched his fingers wide, a butterfly lattice stretching around David’s narrowed waist, and something thrilled inside at how dainty he’d felt, small and delightfully powerless beneath this masculine touch. Effortlessly Chad twirled him around and untied the laces at the back and loosened them. The spin and then initial rush of air had been exhilarating, as had that first moment in which Chad’s strong fingers unclasped the metal fastening at the busk and the overbust corset opened and fell away.

He stood there, then, in nothing but gilt ivory lingerie glimmering in the soft light, a delicate flower in need of the most tender touch, small and yielding to the man’s robust size and strength. The man’s eyes widened appreciatively at the sight of breasts, pale teardrops rising towards him. “God, you’re gorgeous,” he said, and something inside melted at his words and gaze, so that when Chad seized him, David gave himself over to his touch with ease, over to his kisses, over to the passionate hands exploring his tits and ass and to his surprise he felt the first stirrings of his own passion as a dull ache from where his cock and balls remained tucked. His own reaction confused and concerned him deeply, but he couldn’t stop what he’s started now. For the first time he wished for his own release, to receive pleasure rather than simply give it; but that hadn’t been the plan for the night, this night was about rewarding the man who had helped him so much during these past two weeks, and in doing so reaffirming his own identity.

As the man’s fingers strayed dangerous close to somewhere they couldn’t go, David realised he couldn’t delay any longer.

He fumbled with the man’s belt, painted lips forced into a wide smile as he hooked manicured nails into his waistband. The trousers came down even as he sank to his knees. He knelt before this man, on his knees level with his crotch, sober and committed to what he was doing. Chad looked down at him, standing strong and drinking him in with eyes filled with lust and admiration and with something more powerful, something that made David feel small and wanted.

Even as David’s smile felt increasingly strained, he kept eye contact and his hand reached into the man’s boxers and there he felt for only the second time in his life another man’s penis.

He hesitated then, feeling the hard, hot flesh; but only for a moment before drawing it out.

And lying there on the bed, he remembered staring at it, staring at Chad’s cock, willing himself to do this thing. You can do this, he thought. It’s just… a blow job. Women do this all the time. It’s not like it’s a big deal. It’s not gross or perverted or weird, it’s just—a thing women do. And right now, you’re a woman, or at least he thinks you are, and you’ve got to do this, got to prove to yourself how meaningless this act is, that Cindy can thank this guy like a good girl and you can wake up in the morning unchanged, unaffected, and still be—yourself, and go back to being a man and living a man’s life.

But when he licked his lips, it was with nervousness, not eagerness. And the roiling in his belly wasn’t from alcohol because he hadn’t touched a drop all day. Try as he might, he couldn’t bridge the gap—such a small gap, a few easy centimeters—between his wet, pink lips and the man’s cockhead, glistening with pre-cum and bobbing in anticipation.

A hand at his head ran fingers through his long hair—lovingly, urging him to look up rather than down. Chad was smiling at him, eyes still filled with that intimidating deepness that signalled something far more profound than simple lust. A gentle touch at David’s chin refocused his attention upwards.

“You don’t have to do this,” Chad said.

“I want to.”

“Have you ever before?”

David shook his head.

Chad slowly lowered himself to David’s level and squatted back on his haunches. With the back of his hand, he tenderly brushed his cheek, and his fingers cupped his chin and drew him in for a kiss. Eagerly, David fell into the kiss, a reprieve from the act he thought he was ready for but clearly couldn’t yet bring himself to do. And lost in the depth of the kiss, he noticed too late the man’s drifting hands—hands that moved from his shoulders, down his side, slid beneath the waistband of lace panties and tickled their way along his bum and—

Chad’s fingers draw across the taped length of David’s cock and he gasped into the other man’s mouth, around the eager tongue dancing with his own.

Pulling back, fearful fingers curled instinctively into fists—he tottered in his too-tall platform heels—and fell unceremoniously back on his ass, legs splayed wide.

Chad laughed.

Flushed red with anger and embarrassment and fear, David scrambled away from the other man. “It’s not—”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Chad said, standing.

David gaped up at him. “Did you—know?”

Chad reached down and pulled the feminised man to his feet, where he wobbled briefly in his heels and held the other man’s arm for support. “I suspected,” he said.

“How?”

“For one, I knew you weren’t really Cindy.” Chad stepped over to the sofa and sat and motioned for David to join him. After a moment’s hesitation he followed, and when Chad took his hand and guided him onto his lap, he settled without protest. Sitting there fully aware of the other man’s hardon pressing into his ass, he felt painfully aware of his appearance in a way he’d never quite experienced before—a deep humiliation rooted in what he wore and what he was doing in the presence of another man who knew him to actually be a man. Playing at Cindy for Julia was one thing; making out with Dan another; but perching on Chad’s knees in diaphanous lingerie when he knew he was actually male was something new.

“I knew Cindy Bellamy,” Chad said. “She was a client here, remember? Somebody must’ve slipped up, not updated the client database or something, because the Clinic armband invited me in to talk to you the same as it did with her. I got to her know her a little when she was here. This was several months ago.”

“Did you sleep with her?” David asked.

“Yes.” Sadness tainted his voice. “There was something very—tragic—about her. Sad and beautiful and so very angry. I’ve only met a few people who clearly hated themselves that deeply.” His gaze burned into David. “But she was such a kind soul, a lovely person, but one who couldn’t see that loveliness in herself. She was so eager to please, to find validation in others.” He shook his head. “I guess she never found it.”

In the present, lying on his bed, David remembered how they talked, if only briefly, about the young woman whose life he’d usurped, even if unwillingly. Chad never asked how he’d come to take her name or her life; presumably, he knew better than to ask such questions of clients of the Clinic. Rather, he simply held him in his arms, on his lap, as his cock slowly lost its ardour. Finally, he gave a single kiss to David’s forehead and easily lifted the smaller man from his lap and positioned him on the sofa.

Grinning, Chad then slid off the sofa cushion to his knees between the feminised man’s legs.

“What are you doing?” David cried out.

“Giving you something I suspect you need a hell of a lot more than I do.” With one strong hand holding David’s thigh, he used the other to gently push him back into the sofa. “Just… relax.”

“But—” David struggled to articulate his confusion. “We’re both guys.”

“If you say so,” Chad said, smiling up from between a pair of lithe legs with knees thrust high by the arch of stiletto heels. “But from where I’m at, all I’m seeing is a gorgeous woman lying back on a sofa with a handsome stud between her legs.” He pulled at the flimsy white panties, down one leg and then the other, and threw them across the room. His fingers then felt for the tape holding David’s cock and carefully peeled it back, layer by layer. “Wow, you really strapped in, aren’t you?”

“But—”

“Just shut up and enjoy,” Chad said.

And when he felt the man’s first confident touch on his penis, the first time any man had ever touched him there, David didn’t think he could go through with it. He remained limp and unwilling and he felt a powerful wrongness deep in his belly at the thought of a man touching him so intimately. But then Chad kissed him, every so gently, first on one thigh and then the other and the kiss was almost feminine in its tenderness. The hands stroking his skin were soft, flicked at suspenders, skimmed along his sides, and paddled at his boobs, and when those swift, nimble fingers grazed his nipples he moaned—

And in the present, with the drugs still present in his system, David moaned too—

And in memory, he hissed in pleasurable pain as the man pinched his nipple between forefinger and thumb and chuckled wickedly at David’s reaction. For the reaction was all too visible: under Chad’s skilled ministration, his cock stiffened and rose. Chad gripped the engorged cock firmly—and without hesitation took it in his mouth.

The surge of sensations threatened to overwhelm David. He felt lips and tongue running up and down his cock, the warmth and the pressure as Chad’s head bobbed up and down his length, and in David’s mind it was all mixed up with past experiences, with Julia and with so many other girls, flashes of anonymous, pretty faces, a cavalcade of glistening lips and eager tongues; and at some point the smiling lips that flashed through his mind were his own, carefully painted and shiny and keen to please. And all this became mixed up with the other sensations he submitted to, Chad kneading his tits, fingers digging into fleshy thighs and ass, coming up on occasional to nip at an ear or trail kisses down his abdomen or lick cat-lick at a painfully erect nipple.

And in the present, he felt the phantom touch of the previous night, and one hand crept to his breast and found pleasure there, and the other crept lower—

And in memory he felt it too, and the sensations were at first focused around his cock, and he nearly wilted at the idea of another man going down on him, the implied homosexuality of it—he wasn’t gay, he was a man—but it felt so good, he hadn’t been on the receiving end of a blow job in months, it wasn’t Julia’s thing but dear God, it felt great. And so his perception shifted, and he felt the feminine presence in the room, he was that woman but then that woman was pleasuring him, he found his own tit and groping himself and moaned in pleasure—felt the scratch of long nails—a woman’s hand on his woman’s tit—but also the yielding flesh beneath his strong hand—and somehow it felt as though the feminine presence shifted to the eager cock-sucking lips pleasuring him; and the moans he heard were a girl’s moans; they were his own rhythmic exclamations of desire; and the whisper of long hair, the silkiness of stockings beneath his palm; tug of straps and tickle of lace; toes curling in the constraint of heels; but a man’s strong hand pinning him to the sofa; and he thrashed and his hips bucked and he arced his back, pushing his tits further into whoever’s hand mauled them, and when he finally came it was with a deep, ball-emptying cry, fiercely grabbing the head between his legs with both hands and pulling it closer and burying himself deep, fucking the face that pleasured him and then falling back with a groan, spent and confused.

“Jesus, you’re strong,” Chad said afterwards. He grinned, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.  “Ouch.”

David drew in a ragged breath. “Sorry.”

“I hadn’t really planned on swallowing.”

He winced. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Chad grinned. “You should try it sometime. It’s not so bad when you get past the taste.” He drew David into an embrace and buried his face in his long blonde hair and shuddered. “Thank you,” he said, and when he drew back his cheeks were wet with tears. “Whoever you are. Cindy”

“Chad—”

“Don’t make the same mistake she did,” he said. “You’re… special, and beautiful and wonderful.”

David pulled away, but only slightly, and in post-coital torpor he felt comfortable in this man’s arms. He felt a powerful and confusing desire to cuddle, and his fingers played idly with Chad’s chest hairs, curling the coarse hairs around his slender fingertips.

“But I’m a man,” he insisted, only noticing then that the fingers of the other hand rested casually on the other man’s penis.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Chad had answered.

And in the present, David found himself finally strong enough to stand. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and after a moment’s rest struggled to his feet. He turned to the full-sized mirror.