This is chapter 2 from my novel "Banjo Strings". It has some story elements, but it also stands alone as straight porn. It happens to be a TS porn movie-type scene, but there's no political view, opinion or judgement, just porn...

I thought about putting it in stories, but this is better.

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Amanda Harris was supremely pleased with herself, twirling a finger in her strawberry blonde hair as she drove down Hwy 12, cruising east toward the Louisiana-Mississippi borderline, on her way to a live meeting in Mobile, instead of the teleconference her 'associate' Marcus Hudson had planned. She chuckled, thinking of her 'executive-level solution' that put a collar on "Sir Marcus," the "Affirmative Action" MBA junior executive bucking for her spot on the board after only a year with the firm. Before him, she was the rising star at the regional headquarters; that board position was HERS.

She didn't get along at all when he was hired, but it only took a few months to get past his natural distrust and suspicion, to change his view of her from hostile competitor to friend. She started by having weekly "peace lunches" with him to share harmless office gossip. He soon relaxed around her, demonstrating his profound weakness by becoming far too trusting. Amanda took that time and used it well. She had enough time to sneak a keylogger onto his unguarded laptop to learn his passwords. She had enough time to gather together the different drugs she'd need to mix up a batch of her "Zeta House party potion," which made innocent freshmen and coeds very horny, very high, and very cooperative. She laughed out loud driving through the early morning countryside, made her grapefruit-sized breasts jiggle. Remembering the bible study group Zeta House turned into their personal harem. The two couples went from nervous and shy to welcoming nymphos, taking on all comers. She remembered the strap-on she shoved so far up that one  boy's ass he shoulda screamed, but he just wiggled and grunted as he fucked back onto the hard rubber phallus. It sounded so much like a big dog barking, she couldn't help breaking out in a fit of giggles.

When she got herself invited to one of his "presentation tours" of teleconferences and personal meetings with a few current and potential clients, she was ready. A week before the tour, from El Paso to Atlanta, Amanda invited him to a bar near her apartment, where she got "tipsy," requiring him to take her home. Once inside, she turned on him, pushing him back against the door and kissing him as she fumbled with his belt buckle. That's right nigger, you know you want it, she thought. His pants dropped, as did she, to her knees, fishing his impressive erection from his boxers. She stroked him and waited, looking up with the babydoll face she used so well at frat parties in college. He had to make the next move. When his hands guided her lips to the bulbous, shiny head, she knew, she had him. She almost felt remorse for Hudson the first time she rode with abandon on his thick non frat-party sized dick, but she shoved that weakness aside; feeling sorry for his black ass would PUT his black ass in that board seat instead of hers.

On day 2 of the tour, Amanda and Marcus arrived at their hotel near Bush Intercontinental Houston Airport around 6 pm. He had a round of one-on-one teleconferences planned, starting with the client in Mobile tomorrow afternoon, and he wanted to go over it again. Amanda just smiled and patted his arm, "relax, everything's ready." She lagged behind at the front desk after Marcus took his keycard and walked to the elevator. She asked the concierge for any messages for "Annie." He checked the cork board behind the desk, out of Amanda's view, seeing, yes, a post-it with "For Annie" written on it. He checked her out: mid-20s, strawberry blonde, almost 6 ft., athletic body with pert handful-sized breasts and a shapely ass. He gave the note to her with a knowing smile she didn't notice as she snatched it, hurrying to catch up with Marcus. She shoved it into her skirt pocket as she turned the corner into the elevator banks and almost collided into him as he stood waiting. Riding up to the fourth floor, she agreed to come by his room in a few minutes, noticing the familiar hungry look in his eyes. Once in her room, down the hall from his, Amanda pulled out the paper - "Betsy, Rm. 732" was written in the center.

"Betsy" was the woman she'd found, and auditioned, after a month of searching in LA. Smiling, Amanda called her, gave her Marcus' room number and told her to be ready in an hour. She called room service, then went to his room and said she'd ordered burgers, fries, and mikshakes, was that ok?

A few minutes into the meal she told him she had a surprise - "some really excellent pot from a friend of mine. I thought we could eat first and then get high. But, I left it on the dresser in my room,' she said, giving him a wicked grin as she took off her blouse and slipped out of her shoes. He grinned, took her key card and hurried out. He was back in a minute, but she only needed 30 seconds to get out the little bottle from her skirt pocket, pop the lid and pour the red, sweet potion into his chocolate shake, stirring the straw to mix it. He returned just as she dropped her skirt, revealing a lacy black thong as she sat back in the chair beside her tray. He brought her a small zippered pouch as he admired her perky breasts in the french-cut bra.

Half an hour later, after finishing off a couple bowls of her potent weed, he started getting a slightly goofy look on his face from the potion as his penis began to stir on its own. He didn't notice.

"Isn't it hot in here, Marcus?" She remarked, and smiled as he slowly attacked the buttons on his shirt. She moved the serving trays to the cart and pushed him back onto the bed, removing the rest of his clothes and stroking his erection. Five minutes later, Marcus had a tremendous orgasm, lost to the wonderful sensations he felt, his nerve endings all screaming pleasure as he spurted in a lazy arc that pooled on his chest. His dick was still erect and would be for another hour or so, Amanda thought as she lightly bit the drooling head and intently watched his quivering response. It's time.

She rolled off the bed and dialed Betsy. "It's me. come down now!" she hissed into the hotel phone. She grabbed a towel from the bathroom gently wiped him off, savoring the moment. Enjoy your balls tonight, she thought, I'll have them tomorrow, along with control of your precious seat on the board.

She turned to his laptop on the dresser, powered it up, then opened a browser and went to her travel site. A soft knock at the door and she grinned at Marcus, rolling around on the bed in slow motion. Showtime, big boy. At the door she took the "Do Not Disturb" sign off the inside handle, quickly opened up and ushered in Betsy, tall, gorgeous, with flowing shoulder-length red hair to match her full red lips, wearing a slinky dark red evening dress, elegant sandals and pearls. She took in Amanda's pert breasts and smiled as the lingerie-clad woman hooked the sign on the outside and closed the door. They just stood there and drank each other in, then embraced and kissed, long and slow.

"Hi. Annie," she said in a sweet lilt.

"Hello yourself." said Amanda. "We don't have much time. Your host is this way, and he can't wait to meet you." Amanda led the way as Betsy admired her cute ass in the thong.

They entered the dark bedroom to find Marcus propped up on his elbows, eyes closed, his erection still strong. Amanda walked over to him and kissed him. His eyes slowly opened and he tried to reach for her, but she backed away. He noticed another woman standing beside Amanda, a tall redhead with big lips peeling down a red dress to her slender waist. She had beautiful grapefruit-sized breasts with little pink nipples sticking through the open slits of a see-through bra. Betsy kneeled beside him on the bed and guided a nipple between his lips as Marcus' hands slowly, clumsily caressed Betsy.

Amanda returned to the computer and confirmed her red-eye flight to Mobile on a small airline using her own money. Nobody in the LA office needs to know about this trip yet, and Marcus will say what I damn well tell him to after tonight, Amanda snorted. She watched him, still sitting up, following Betsy's whispered instructions as she held him close. Marcus, in a daze, squeezed her breasts together until the nipples were inches apart, then alternated from one stiff nipple to the other, suckling. "That's right, like that," Betsy purred, sliding a hand down to his erection and lightly stroking him.

Amanda left the computer and crawled onto the bed at his legs, kissed up his thighs, brushed her lips against Betsy's caressing fingers, then captured his cock with her mouth. Marcus had barely come down from the melting waves of bliss he was riding. He was one big pleasure center, and he loved it. Nipples in his mouth and fingers stroking his dick was the center of his world. He'd come already and was still hard as a rock, and now a sudden wet warmth enveloped him...

Amanda kissed and swallowed the shiny head, rotating around it lovingly, then went down further, meeting Betsy's fingers coming up, admiring his cock the way she admired all her new toys. She glanced over at Betsy's dress as she relinquished his dick, eyes lingering over the barely noticeable bulge at the junction of her thighs. "Ok, ready?" she asked. Betsy nodded and they stretched him out on the bed. The redhead quickly finished undressing and got on the bed, straddling his face. Amanda smiled, admiring Betsy's neat arrangement of a slightly smaller-sized furry vagina tucked behind a small scrotum and a rigid four-inch dick.

Amanda returned to the stiff black cock, licking the head as she watched Betsy. The readhead brought her pussy close to his face; he started licking as soon as he felt her intoxicating wet folds brush his lips. He couldn't see a thing, but he didn't care. About anything. This was the best night of his life!

Amanda left the bed and went to her skirt in the chair, took the digital camera out of the other pocket. She turned on the lamp in the furthest corner of the room, giving just enough light to avoid using the flash. She checked the camera and went to the foot of the bed and took in the view.

Betsy was guiding Marcus, slowly sliding his tongue further and further out of the wet furrow and onto her meat, getting it wet. Amanda climbed aboard and resumed humming on his dick. As soon as he moaned loudly and started shaking, Betsy slid her pelvis back and with her hand, stuck just the tip of her penis into his mouth. His lips clamped on the small head as Amanda rapidly bobbed her head on his stiff pole to keep his senses reeling. She backed off as he started trembling. Not yet, big boy.

Betsy alternated Marcus from her dick to her pussy, sliding her cunt lips, then her cock, over his busy tongue. Amanda got up and steadied the camera as Betsy moved down and straddled Marcus, facing him. She eased herself down on his rigid cock, stroking her own erection and moaning in time with him. Amanda had a dozen shots by the time Betsy climbed off his pulsing dick and slid down until her tongue found his puckered anus and painted his balls and asshole. She straightened up, reached for the pillows on the bed, shoved them under him.

Betsy wet two fingers and began slowly easing them into him as Amanda leaned down and licked his dickhead to distract him.  It took a few minutes, but when he started fucking back onto Betsy's fingers, she smoothly slid them out and positioned her stiff cock at his asshole. Betsy slowly inched into him, then rocked back and forth, gasping as Marcus' clenching ass gripped her throbbing dick. When she bottomed out, Amanda moved back off the bed to get shots as Betsy stroked her full length into Marcus, grasping his wet pole of flesh and stroking it in time to her thrusts.

After five minutes of Betsy, Marcus cried out as he came again, three spurts that puddled on his belly. Betsy kept stroking him as she pounded his ass with her rigid cock. He remained hard.

Betsy felt herself about to come, so she pulled out of Marcus's ass and plunged her steaming pussy back down on his cock, grinding on his meat until she stiffened and squealed, gushed around his pole, spurted twice on Hudson's chest. And Amanda had it all on film.

She cleaned Marcus off with the towel, then climbed back on the bed, lowering her humid pussy down to his waiting mouth. The two of them rode Marcus for another lazy half hour, Betsy slowly grinding his penis in her tight snatch as Amanda trailed kisses from Betsy's lips to both hard, plump little  nipples, down her quivering belly to her short, throbbing dick. They got dressed while Amanda downloaded the photos into Marcus' laptop (MY laptop, now, she thought). Marcus lay in the bed, sighing, eyes barely open as his dick slowly began to deflate. Amanda flipped through the shots, marking the best 10, showing Marcus' face, but not Betsy's. Perfect.

At the door, they embraced and kissed, tenderly. Amanda promised Betsy that "Annie" would see her in LA in a week. Amanda watched Betsy gracefully stroll down the hall to the elevator, a smile of accomplishment on her face.

Back in the room, Amanda giggled as she went to the computer to finish her work. She printed out the 10 pictures, then retrieved a memory stick from her skirt pocket. From it she printed the letter she'd already written to Marcus - telling him in specific terms what she thought of him, why teleconferencing Mobile instead of making a personal visit was a stupid decision, not one a board member would ever make, what would happen with the pictures if he didn't do exactly as ordered (stay in the room for the next three days and hold your dick, cancel your meetings, no phone calls other than room service, and no contact with LA, or else), and what she expected of him when she got back. She took an empty manila envelope from his bags and put the papers inside, wrote "Open Immediately" on the front and left it on his chest.

Amanda looked over at Marcus. He was asleep, and would be for another twelve hours, too late to interfere in her plans, but let's make sure. She went into his pants and took out his wallet. He had four credit cards and $2500 in cash. She took out $2000 and the cards, and returned the wallet to his pants. That'll hold him for a couple days, she thought. She turned off the laptop and took it, the sleek portable printer and his cell phone back to her room. She left the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the outside.

Amanda changed back into her traveling clothes and finished packing her flight bag. It was a little after 9 pm, plenty of time to catch the red-eye to Mobile for the afternoon meeting. With everything on Marcus' computer, she could hold her own teleconference with the other clients from any place with a connection. Like the Houston client later in the week, who was just one of Marcus' friends from their college days. A drunken blowhard who certainly didn't deserve a personal sit-down, Amanda snorted. She stood at the door with her flight bag and the laptop cases, feeling the rush of adrenalin wash over.  We're crossing the Rubicon, 'mandy, she thought. No turning back. She took a deep breath and steeled herself, focusing on the image she saw last year during a morning board meeting: all the members were assembled and waiting to introduce Marcus. She'd been in the ladies' room and got back too late.  The board president had already begun talking and Marcus Hudson was already positioned, standing a few feet back from the slightly ajar double doors to the boardroom. Where she should be standing. The echoes of applause filtered out from the boardroom as the doors opened to admit him like a conquering hero.

At the desk downstairs, Amanda explained that she had to leave unexpectedly and would be gone for a few days, but that her associate would be staying. She strolled out to the group of waiting airport shuttles, triumphant.

From discussions around the web, the big burning question about dating (or even being seen with) transwomen seems to be "does it make me *gasp* GAY?"

From my perspective, having no experience whatsoever, the answer is NO!

If I see an unattractive female, she's still a female even if I don't 'schwing'. If I see a he-man or an androgynous male, it's a guy. No attraction. If I see an attractive female, I'm attracted to the female, whether or not I'm even aware of extra plumbing. If I were attracted to dick, I'd be checking out masculine manly men, not guys dressed like women (which is why transvestites don't interest me at all. Sorry...). Besides, I read on some forums that many 'shemales' in porn are actually transvestites with breast implants, crassly translated as 'guys with tits.' Ick.

I'm into femininity, which comes from the brain and manifests in the aura a woman carries with her; with a TS that's crassly translated as 'chicks with sticks,' and if that's the case, so be it. We fuck with our brains, after all, or at least we should, and many TS women don't want you thinking of their 'stick' either.

Anyway, to finish the simple answer - dating a TS doesn't make you gay, and as far as I'm concerned, if you think it does, maybe that's your closet door rattling...

Ok, part of my education concerning the unique lives of transwomen comes from YouTube, in particular the video journal of a woman named Fior. Her handle is 'Fiorwestcoast,' she lived in LA until recently, now she's in San Diego with her boyfriend. She does a good job of relating the ups and downs of her life in transition.

She has a following, and apparently a lot of 'admirers.' No, I haven't sent her a mash note, but she's a lovely young woman.

Two of my friends back home have cancer; another just died from the illness, One of my culture heroes passed away today. A multitude are dead and dying from an ongoing wave of earthquakes, and it's only January...

The starkness of the year so far reminded me of my mindset after 9/11, my decision to follow the dictum of "life is short," to start executing those items on my "gonna do someday" list before they became an unfulfilled bucket list. Living on the west coast was one item (Paris is next...), Not being afraid to follow my heart is a big one; I can only hope I'm ready when love - or mutual lust - sidles up and plants a wet one on me...

No, this isn't a chronicle of an actual date with a transwoman. I was just playing out what an actual date would entail, because this is really new territory. I've read some forums on 'do's and don't's' (don't be an asshole, don't discuss her body issues loudly in public, don't ask about her medical history, etc.), so that's not what went through my mind. Rather, it's the sensation that this would be a totally unfamiliar experience on my part.

She'd have the advantage of having already BEEN on an actual date with some guy who may only be interested in looking for some downlow strange or a secret fling, or worse, a sexually twisted fuck ready to graduate to serial killer. Not to mention the dreaded 'admirer' who's only chasing anonymous dick, not the chick (go get a sex worker, jeez...). I mean, the transwoman would have a lot more on her plate to deal with on this date than I would, but, still, I can't help but feel I'd be the 'girl' in this situation. One thing for certain - sex would be the last thing on my mind on this first date. Let's get to know each other first, take it slow,etc., etc. Yeah, I laughed as I played it out in my mind, but it ain't THAT funny...