Mind Caviar Fiction

Sabrina Qedesha is a polyamorous, bisexual, transgendered mathematician and computer expert living in the decadent city of New Orleans with her beautiful wife and three precious cats. Her goal in life is to become one with the Divine through sex, drugs, rock and roll, in no particular order. Her esoteric work has appeared in Zibaq! and The Sistrum, while her erotic work can be found at A Bi-Friendly Place as well as in suspect thoughts. She has also published fiction in Lost Worlds of SF and Fantasy. Sabrina writes a regular column for Mind Caviar, Sabrina's Sacred Sex.

Email Sabrina or visit her home pages.

Black Nightie

Jon faced away from me, toweling off and examining himself in the mirror. It's always a treat to see his ass, round and tight as it is. With his legs slightly apart and right arm up, I thought his slender figure looked almost feminine.

On a whim I asked, "Jon, would you put on one of my nighties?"

He turned and laughed. Jon has a good-natured laugh, and his boyish smile and sky-blue eyes still make me inwardly sigh. "Sure," he said, shrugging, "It'll cost you."

"Whatever you want. The black lacy one with the silky bodice." 

Jon searched through my lingerie drawer, chuckling. "I may want you bend over for this."

"Ooh," I said, giggling. "What a price." 

Some of the men I've dated would have had a problem doing this, but not Jon. I love that about him: he does what he likes, and doesn't give a damn what people might say. 

The sight of his tall, taut and slender frame in my nightie was sexy in a picturesque way -- especially when he turned his back to me and I could make out the curves of his ass under the black lace. 

"Now hold still," I said, "and move your hand over the dress."

He began to caress himself, tentatively at first, then more sensually.

"Tell me what it feels like, Jon."

I resisted the urge to finger myself.

Even though he was across the room, it felt intimate, dirty. 

"It feels soft," he said, "smooth, kind of nice, actually." 

He frowned.

"Except the lacy part, that's kind of rough."

"You look hot," I said, my voice too soft, betraying my arousal. 

He laughed. 

"No, really, you do. 

I thought it would be sort of freaky to see you like that, but it's kind of... masculine, in a way." Which was true; his chest was hairy and toned, and the tip of his cock hung down below the edge of the short nightie.

I wanted to see more, and said so. He pulled up the nightie, and I laughed.

"No, I mean I want to see you wear more."

I opened the dresser, began sorting through my lingerie drawer. A red nightie, similar to the black one Jon was wearing, gave me an idea, and I slipped it on myself quickly, then went back to the drawer. This time, I found a pair of thigh-highs with a lacy elastic band. I held them up and giggled.

"Why not?" he said, grinning a little.

"You're not enjoying this too much, are you?"

"What do you mean by that?"

I shrugged. "I'm not going to come home and find you dressed like this without me, am I?" 

He nodded. "Naah. I've just always wondered, I mean, it looks great on you, and feels good to touch, so I've always been kind of curious if it would feel as nice on." 

I had finished balling up the first thigh-high. "Well, now you'll find out." I kneeled, and he held up his foot. I slid the stocking on slowly -- it was a bit strange, doing this for someone else. After I put the other one on, I sat back on my heels to have a look. Again, the effect was strangely masculine -- his muscular calves stood out, but his knees looked pretty good, and the stocking hid his blond leg hair pretty well.

"What do you think?" I asked, drawing my hands slowly up his calves and thighs.

"God, that feels nice," he said, obviously surprised. "Soft and silky, kind of like my whole leg is being massaged all at once."

"It feels really nice just after your legs have been shaved smooth." 

"Uh-uh, I'm not going that far." 

I rubbed his legs tenderly a bit more, and watched his cock twitch in response, starting to swell. His cock was lovely, really; the perfect length, the perfect width, smooth down the whole length, not bent in any odd direction that would make it difficult to suck. My mouth watered at the thought of leaning forward and sucking him, so I did just that, and had the pleasure of feeling him grow larger in my mouth as I slid my mouth gently back and forth. My nose rubbed against the hem of my nightie, and I caught an odd mixture of scents: my lingerie drawer and Jon's cock, a sexy smell that lit a fire within me.

A familiar, friendly warmth began to grow and radiate between my legs. My hands continued to move on Jon's stockinged calves, drawing a soft "mmm" sound from him.

In an odd way, seeing Jon dressed like this almost made me imagine I was with another woman -- a woman with a penis. What an odd thought, not unpleasant, not pleasant, just different.

I dove into my work, and sucked Jon harder until he came. He was a bit quicker than usual, and vocal, grunting loudly a couple of times, especially after I moved one hand to his balls, cupping them firmly. 

I swallowed and stood. "You sounded happy." 

He nodded, still catching his breath from the tension built up by orgasm. 

My hands went to his hips, then, and I again enjoyed the feel of the soft, satiny fabrics over his skin. He held me the same way and grinned.

"I know what you need now," I said, handing him a lipstick from the dresser. I tried to remember where I'd kept the Lady Godiva-style wig I'd worn for Halloween a couple of years ago. It was in a box in the closet, fortunately not buried too deeply. When I turned around with it in my hands, he laughed, and I saw that he'd put the lipstick on - or tried to, at least. I helped him put the wig on and arranged the long locks on his back and sides, and used a tissue to smooth out the lipstick.

When I got a good look at him this way I was a bit stunned. There was no way anyone would ever mistake him for a woman, but it was hard to shake the impression that Jon had actually in a way become female. 

"You've got to see what you look like," I said, taking him by the hand and leading him to a full-length mirror hung on the closet door.

When Jon looked, for a moment he lost his grin. "Whoa! I'm actually a babe."

I stood behind him and reached around front, moving my hands from long female hair to the hardness of Jon's sculpted chest underneath the gauzy nightie, and felt a wet, tingly warmth build within me. I found myself grinding my cunt against his ass, and wondering how far he'd let me take things if I got the vibrator out of my hosiery drawer. Some men like that, I've heard, even straight men. 

As I was stroking Jon's cheek and brushing hair from his face I felt his lips close around my index and middle fingers. No man had ever sucked my fingers and I felt a rush so strong I moaned out loud. I moved around so I could see in the mirror the reflection of Jon sucking up and down on my fingers. Lipstick had smeared on them, which I found intensely erotic. Before I even thought about it, my free hand explored the crack of his ass under the hem of my nightie, teasing around and seeking out his hole.

He pulled from my fingers and looked at the reflection of my face. "Do it," he whispered. 

I pushed the finger in two knuckles, until I felt his body tense. Without any prodding, he resumed sucking my fingers, and started stroking himself. After a moment he'd loosened to the point where I could fuck him with my finger. 

One finger became two. When I was certain I must have been thrusting too hard, he started pushing his ass against my hand, ramming it into him as far as I could go. How odd it felt to have a part of me inside someone else. How masculine. 

Jon moaned onto my fingers, sending the vibration of his deep vocalizations up my arm. His knees began trembling visibly. I grinned at the thought that I finally got to show him how wonderful a good ass-fucking can feel when it's done right. 

Jon gave a series of spastic groans before he came. They sounded different from his usual love-making sounds-- more intense, more animal. I assumed the groans were brought upon by the new sensations. He lifted his lips my fingers then he looked up at me. I saw a range of emotions in the reflection of his face, while his jaw twitched confusedly. 

He was still for a moment, looking away, then he turned again to face me. He grabbed my face with both hands and kissed me deep and hard. He lifted me up, almost hurling me back onto the bed, then he climbed on top of me. As he kissed my neck and breasts I could feel his cock against my thigh - he was rock-hard even though he'd just spent twice. I could smell the scent of lipstick which was apparently being smeared across my lips and cheeks.

I quivered as he readied himself before plunging deeply into me, so familiar with my body he did not need to use his hands. The long hair of the wig fell around my face, blocking out the rest of the world while Jon repaid penetration with penetration. I wrapped my legs around his waist and locked ankles behind him, loving the feel of the lingerie against my smooth legs. Jon found his favorite angle, counterbalanced so that he could thrust fast and hard with only the back portion of his body, moving all the way out and then opening me again with every stroke. His nightie and my teddy rubbed together with a soft rhythmic rustle. He rammed fast and steady like a machine, exerting himself, making me thrill at the thought of the openness of my cunt and the fullness of his cock in me. I knew I'd pay for this later with soreness, but for the moment I was lost in sensual shivers of orgasm after orgasm, richocheting and squeezing tightly around his cock as if trying to grab at and hold his cock inside me. 

He was quiet this time; I didn't know he was going to come until I felt him spend inside me, then fall into me, heavily at rest. Jon lay against me, eyes closed again, and lay still. his breathing slowed, then returned to normal. We lay still for a long time while Jon's erection dwindled inside me. He gasped a tremendous yawn. I cuddled against him contentedly, wondering if we would ever do this-- or anything like this-- again.

Copyright © 2002 Sabrina Qedesha. All rights reserved. Do not copy or post.

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