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Many thanks to neuroparenthetical, who edited this story.

We’re at a hypermarket in the afternoon, about twenty minutes on foot from Stella’s place. She needed to resupply on enough items that the trip was worth it. Walking the distance in the bright day alongside the scantily clad girl has already made it worth enough for me.

I watch her pushing a quarter full wire cart on the shopping floor, following not far behind. She wears a short, shoulderless tube dress, with long sleeves. It’s printed in pastel colors, vertical, wavy stripes, and made of a soft, elastic material that gives away her every curve.

The slut wears nothing under the dress, because… she’s Stella.

Her tits are jiggling with her every step. The shapes of her nipples together with the bars that pierce them are all too visible. There’s nothing you need to guess about the form of her pretty ass. The fabric of the dress is thin enough that when the light shines from the other side it becomes almost sheer and you can see the shape of her thighs and what’s between them.

Short, blonde curls and yellow, low heel boots frame her tall, narrow body. She wears her usual assortment of trinkets: long tassel dangle drop earrings in silver finish, a second pair of small rings in the lower helix, a large ring in her septum, a blue choker, bracelets, rings, etc. Her two tone green eyeshadow I put on myself before we left.

She’s seriously fuckable and everybody who sees her knows it. Men turn their heads in her wake. Two different guys try to approach her.

The security should not have allowed Stella in the store today. They should have stopped her at the entrance. They should have took her to their room and fucked her.

I watch her and I imagine myself pulling the front of her dress below her small, soft tits or the back of the dress above her pretty buttocks. I only grope her brazenly when she stops to grab something from a shelf and I catch up with her.

It’s good fun, but not quite enough. When I spot the toilets green sign not far from where we are, I grab her hand and walk with her through the swinging doors. Behind them there’s a long, narrow passageway to the men’s and ladies’s rooms. I start there, but half way through I decide it’s quiet and private enough. I pin Stella against the wall and kiss her greedily. I pull her dress below her tits, leaving them exposed, and I keep kissing her, my arms above her shoulders. People pass by, most without reaction, some telling us rudely to find another place.

It’s advice I take and I walk with Stella, hand in hand, to the men’s room. Her tits are still flying out. The space is clean and relatively busy. I pay little attention to the commotion we cause and take Stella to one of the stalls. It’s not exactly roomy and the door has a ton of open space both at the bottom and the top.

Stella sits on the bowl and we work together hurriedly to get my pants down and my cock in her mouth. She starts sucking it in earnest, and I swear I haven’t seen anybody doing it with half of her want. Then again, I haven’t had many guys blowing me. She gives me some good head before asking me to turn around and spread my legs. Next I feel her hands over my butt and her wet tongue working its way up and down my asshole. I let her get her fill before turning around and asking her to stand up.

It’s not easy to get her to turn around in the limited space. She has to climb up the bowl, turn about and climb back down, but she’s finally facing the wall, giving me her ass. I pull her dress up her waist and feel her hole with my fingers. I don’t know why I worry again for the lack of lube, it has never been a problem. I give my cock a good spit coating and enter her easily. She props herself hands against the wall. I slam into her ass. Her tits are still out. Her pierced nipples jump up and down her chest. I use one hand to hold her in place and the other to feel her tits in turn. She turns her head around to face me. I grab her hair and give her a kiss.

By now I realize we’ve been quite noisy. Her ass slaps hard against my hips and there’s nothing I can or want to do about it. Obscene calls from the men around us accompany our fucking. “Fuck that bitch!” “Cum in her face!” When my cock starts sliding with less ease in her ass, I spit or she spits in my hand and I give it a fresh coating.

I’m getting hot in the crowded stall and I unbutton my shirt. I thought it was cool when we arrived, now it doesn’t feel that cool. My chest and belly are covered in sweat, and much of it flies over Stella’s back and dress. And when she occasionally straightens up and turns around to kiss me, she wipes my body with it.

When I’m almost done, I help Stella turn around and sit on the bowl once more. She sucks me and I blow in her mouth. I take a moment to cool down and look in her face, before trying to get proper. Stella helps out, pulling my pants up my legs. I open the stall’s door and before leaving, I give her a deep kiss. She stands. I watch her wiping her Avrupa yakası travesti ass carefully. She pulls the top of her dress above her breasts and its bottom below her ass, before exiting herself.

I wash my face in a sink and then lean against the countertop, watching Stella arranging herself in a mirror. She takes her time, washing and examining her face and hair. Men come and go and see a hot chick. Some call on her, offering their compliments and company.

When she’s satisfied with her work, she walks to a urinal and relieves herself. Himself. Once again, she’s in no hurry. There’s considerably more excitement on the floor now. Men are whistling and laughing loudly. One of them shouts “Atta girl!”

Stella walks back to the sinks to wash again. When she’s done, I take her hand and we leave the men’s room. Back on the shopping floor, our cart is gone, probably removed by the stuff. We pick another and start from the beginning. Only this time, Stella’s dress is a mess, its back soaked in my sweat.

When we check out, I offer to help pay for the stuff. After all, I’ve been eating a lot of her food lately. She says “I’ll hear nothing about it.” and I leave it at that.

Back at her place, Stella strips and puts everything she bought where it belongs. We hit the shower. There’s no window in the small room, and she leaves the door open for some of the bright light of the day to enter. We spend a long time under the hot stream. I wash her hair and she washes mine. I have my soapy hands deep in her ass — one at a time, don’t get ideas! We’re practically fucking as we step out of the shower cabin and we take it to the bed.

***

I’m back at the old place. I’m heading for the terrace to take in the sight over the city. The rain has just stopped and the sky is deep blue, saturated with water. A large rainbow spans over the built up area below. Rodrigo is there, sipping a drink. We chat for a while, I ask him how everything has been lately.

“Bitches still coming and going?”

He laughs. “If not now, then when?”

“Uh hmm. Uh hmm. How’s the boy?”

“Which boy?”

“Your pretty, fuckee friend.”

“Aah… I haven’t seen him in a while. He’s fine, no reason to believe otherwise.”

“And when you see him?”

Rodrigo smiles. “He caught your eye. There’s hope for you.”

I laugh. “Okay, tell me about him.”

“He’s a great fuck. Sometimes frustrating. He can be stubborn as a donkey. But that’s fine, too. It’d be boring if they were all the same. He’s mostly fun.”

“He is frustrating how?”

“He has his quirks. He’ll never go somewhere if he cannot pay for it. That leaves only the most popular and cheapest venues available, though I guess they’re more fun anyways. On his shoestring budget, he often can only afford a soda. I’m seeing places the kind I haven’t seen in a long time.”

“Teaches you a lesson, doesn’t it? Your money does not buy everything.”

Rogrigo laughs wholeheartedly. “It sure does,” he says. “He has plenty of other funny ideas. He’s generous, though. He shares what he has, without any reservation. Ah, the good old days…”

“Rodrigo, what is the matter with you!? You speak like your life is not carefree.”

“My boy…” he laughs. “You’ll come to see.”

I laugh, too. The old man is fun.

“Back to your boy…” I steer him back to the topic I’m interested in.

“He’s unlike the others. Eccentric for sure. But I can understand where it is all coming from.”

“Just give it to me already…”

“Aah, you want to hear it? This is where the story goes sideways. He grew up in an orphanage, a long way from here. In the forests up North, on the misty, cold coast.”

“Wait, I thought all kids without parents are found homes these days?”

“It should be like that.” he agrees cordially. “Anyways… the place was strange enough that he learned nothing about the world until he got out, at eighteen. With just a little money and a list of dos and donts. If you wonder how he pays for stuff, they still send him a little money every month. The rest he gets from the City.”

“Where did you learn all this stuff?”

“Not from him! He doesn’t talk about it. Probably he assumes nobody will understand it. At any rate, when he arrived in the city, he knew nothing of anything. The ideas he formed were his own, and if they’re strange it is no surprise.”

“What you’ve said about where get his money from, is that all of it?”

“If you’re asking what I think you’re asking, he takes no money from guys — no gifts, no meals or free drinks.”

“And the orphanage business?”

“It’s strange enough that it deserves its own story. I know few details, though. It’s all hush hush. They don’t talk about it.”

“Go on then.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t feel sorry for Stella, Evan. While the typical city boy spent his childhood chained to a desk in a dreary classroom, your Stella was probably running in the forests, fishing in the streams and swimming Avrupa yakası travestileri in the mountain lakes.”

***

I enter the bedroom, pulling Stella by her hair. She walks behind me, body ahead of her legs, hands on my arm. She looks really unhappy to be handled indecorously like this, making faces and protestations. She’s almost at her cutest.

I give her a push in the bed and she falls in it, obliquely on her entire body length. Sheer curtains cover the windows of the bedroom in my apartment downtown. The street is lined with tall trees, and they block some of the light of the day.

The very girlish young man in my bed looks sexy as fuck and fucking is what he’s been getting ever since he arrived, some time ago. I sit next to him. He crawls in a more central position on the large bed. I climb over him, kiss his neck and his hard, narrow back, down to his cute, round butt. I spread its cheeks, to show the hole that is already well fucked — and would be gaping, if Stella would push her ass out. I try wiping the sticky mix of lube and sweat from the crack with my fingers, but I don’t manage much, and I’m not getting off the bed to get a cloth or something.

I kiss Stella’s buttocks and the top of her crack.

“Evan, you better not,” she laughs.

I kiss her asshole and give it a lick.

“Get your tongue out of my ass, you…”

She tries rolling over and crawling up, but I pin her down. I coat her warm, soft pucker with spit and put my lips on it.

“Evan!” she laughs and kicks her legs.

I blow in her ass.

“Evan! What the fuck are you doing!?”

Trying to blow air in your ass. What do you think I am doing? After several repeats of licks and blows I am confident I might have done just that.

She reaches out, arms over her back, to push me off her ass, laughing excitedly.

“You’re making me fart! If you don’t get your nose out of my ass, I’m going to blow in your face!”

She does fart, and I’m not there when she does. I climb over her legs, straddling the smooth back of her thighs. I open her butt again, and give it a good middle and ring fingers fuck. After that, it’s time I put my cock back in. I fuck her ass and her excitement slowly dies out. She mellows and melts, face buried in a pillow. Her behind has been softened up greatly by the already long fuck, and that combined with the lube and the much sweat flowed in her hole makes fucking feeling like nothing. I’m getting more aroused by looking at her sweaty, hard body and her pretty head than from pumping her ass.

When the sheets become soaked with sweat, I get out of her and lay down by her side. Stella crawls down on me. I pull up to the top of the bed, propping myself in pillows and elbows, and I spread my legs. She’s on her stomach, body lined up on its entire length to my dick, her legs overhanging the bed.

She puts my sticky cock in her mouth, sucking its head and tonguing it, up and down its length. She props herself up on her elbows and uses her hands on my junk. One to hold my shaft, one to roll my balls against my body. She could make a career teaching women how to properly suck dick.

Then again, her interests go beyond that.

“Turn over!” she orders me. I do as instructed. “Spread them!” She’s not happy with the speed with which I obey her and gives me two sharp blows, one over each butt cheek.

She presses her face in my ass and proceeds to give it the eating she wanted. Her hand reaches below my stomach and pulls my dick in between my legs.

I don’t know what she does in there. Whether she moves her tongue up and down, side to side and then around, pressing or probing. I can’t see it and my asshole is not sensitive enough to tell. All I know is that I have her wet tongue moving over my hole. I do feel her hands and fingers on the less intimate parts of my butt, opening me up well for her tongue to find me. She gives my very hard cock a good, long squeeze every so often. I wouldn’t admit this to many, but her eating my ass often feels better than me fucking her ass. It’s the latter that I crave, though.

I’ve no idea how long she can keep this up, but I won’t find out today. And she had plenty of my ass already. I turn around to her baffled face. Sorry, but not sorry, Stella, I have my own ideas.

I get out off bed. Stella turns slowly to face me. I pull him more than help him to his feet. I hold his upper left arm firmly and low enough that he cannot stand up straight. I drag him unceremoniously to the kitchen, much like I brought him into the bedroom: against pathetic protestations and attempts to break free. I never let him stand up properly.

We make it to the sink and I push his head under the faucet, before I turn the water on. His blonde curls get drenched and plastered around his head. Water flows over his face. I get behind him, holding his hips firm with one hand and finding his hole with my dick in the other hand. I thrust into him and move my freed hand Travesti avrupa yakası to his shoulder, keeping his head under the water stream.

His smooth, firm, sweaty body looks hot bent over the sink like this. I fuck my motherless friend in the ass, like life hasn’t already been cruel enough to him. He tries a couple of times to reach out and turn the water off — he’s so cute, but I catch his arm and bring it back along his body. He gives up after that, resigned to his fate. I fondle his tits and genitals in a rough, vulgar manner that no self-respecting man would ever allow.

***

We’ve been meeting mostly at my place lately, every second or third day. She says she has classes, not far from here. I like her place, but mine is bigger and better appointed. Also, I feel better hosting then being her guest most of the time.

She usually comes around noon. We fuck, then go out around the busy area where my place is at, then get back and fuck some more. It takes most of the day.

I can’t imagine getting tired of spending time with her locked in an apartment, but being able to get out with her, if even for a little while, makes a hell of a difference. If going out is the order of the day, there’s hardly a better part of town than around my place. It’s why I got the apartment in the first place. The area is the hippest quarter of the city, crowded with galleries, cafes, bars, restaurants, shops, small parks, and just about everything that might pique your fancy during the day. It’s not a nightlife nexus in the city, though I guess the two don’t go very well together.

Going out with Stella is refreshing every time and in many different ways. Simply observing men and boys turning their heads is stimulating. Being the guy that has her by the arm makes it satisfying.

Stella makes no active effort to call attention to herself. Indeed she’s sedated and demure. She looks like a slut and sticks out like a sore thumb, but in her behavior she’s subdued and unassuming.

She wears bright outfits — usually very short dresses and skirts — leaving her legs exposed almost all the way up. She has a ton of trinkets on and her hairstyle says fun girl.

She’s thin and she’s tall. With her usual high heel platform footwear, she’s really tall for a girl.

She’s not a girl, though from a distance one cannot tell. It’s difficult even up close unless and until one starts paying attention to such telltale signs as the size of her extremities. Her body is feminine, her shoulders are straight but not broad and her chest is shallow. Her face is round and clean, girlish with an odd masculine streak. Her nose is boyish — pointy and long. Her mouth is too large, and when she smiles, she shows a lot of teeth.

Despite that, I imagine that many people know soon enough she’s a guy. I did.

She fails to be a girl in many subtle ways. One may not recognize all of them at first, but together they add up and one knows.

I’ve never seen Stella wearing a purse. I’m pretty sure she does not have one, I’ve been through all of her stuff at her apartment. There are other things girls have, and she doesn’t. Like shorts and pants. Panties is however not one of them. She has a shelf full of panties. I know, I’ve rifled through it quite thoroughly — another check on my things I want to do list. Funny enough, none of her knickers are slutty. All have good front and back coverage. I’ve just never seen her wearing panties, and only seldom a bra — usually to call attention to, rather than hide her tits.

When we’re out, we walk together. Usually side by side. Sometimes I hold her hand. Sometimes I hold her ass — a bare butt cheek — or a tit when we stop. She never protests, she never tries to keep me from doing it.

In the past, my attempts to take my girlfriends out in slutty outfits and touch them improperly in public met with various degrees of success. It was never what I really wanted and I sensed that they weren’t keen on it either.

Stella is up for more than just shameless groping. Sometimes we have a quickie while we’re out — like in the bathroom of a bar. Once, we did it in a lonely backyard that was not so lonely after all. Somebody watched us doing it from a window.

Sometimes we stop for a soda drink. Rodrigo warned me right, Stella can’t afford anything more than that and she won’t let me pay for anything.

I had to probe her determination, perhaps unwisely. “You’ve got let me get you something.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.”

“Evan, I’m not your girlfriend. I’m a guy. We have sex. You like to fuck ass, I like to get my ass fucked. A straight guy and a faggot. Don’t get me anything.”

For some people, money means something. I find it hard to take that in.

One time she said, “I don’t need somebody to give me money. I could suck a guy for a few coins.”

“It’s not at all what I meant,” I protested.

“Oh, it’s you the guy that gives me a few coins. Is that what you meant?”

She is beyond hope.

***

I let Stella run ahead of me, I want to see how she looks in the crowd.

She’s wearing a round white dress with a blue hem, and absolutely nothing under — unless the nipple rings count. The dress is tight over her chest and waist and flares out from there. It is so short that it barely covers her ass.

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