My name is Michael. I'm 24 years old, blonde and blue-eyed, of medium height and build; once you get to know me well, you peg me as gay, which I am. I married my perfect man right out of high school, and together we have three wonderful children. But there's more. There's something about me...

I've always been gay. I sucked my first cock at the tender age of 8. That was my cousin Jeff, who had me solo the next three years, until I sucked the neighbor kid Josh one day after school in his bedroom. Josh was the first to take me to bed and put my ass to use, but that wasn't until two years after he discovered my mouth. He never kissed me or did anything but fuck me doggie on my hands and knees, so I really can't classify it as being taken to bed. That didn't happen until I was almost 18, and that was by my best friend Steve.

I want to tell you about Steve. I was 17 and he was 18. It was Friday night after a game. We had lost by a field goal in overtime and I was really bummed out. We'd been 5-0 before the game, and St. John's was our archrival, which made it even worse. 37-35: a heartbreaker. We were returning to the car when Steve grumbled, "Mother-fucker. We should have won that game." I wanted to take his hand, but didn't dare. And then he unexpected said, "You look good tonight, Michael" and I blushed. "I love when you do that," he added teasingly. I grumbled, "Stop it" and glanced around us with my eyes.

I had worn the manliest looking clothes I owned; a flannel shirt, baggy jeans, sneakers and a baseball cap. He didn't know that I had on pink panties and a bra underneath. It was surprising how few people suspected that I was gay, and how even fewer knew. Steve knew, but he hadn't taken me yet, not even orally. I had confessed to him on our last date.

"I've known since the first day of school," he acknowledged. "I knew for sure the first time we took gym class together. You were the one guy who made a point of not checking out anyone else's goods. I got an eye for that kind of thing. I pegged you right away, Michael."

I looked at him oddly. He was the most masculine guy I knew, a real Brad Pitt type. Girls practically collapsed at his feet and word was that he fucked a different student every weekend. He told me that was just bullshit, but he had no qualms about fucking any girl who'd let him. I asked him why he was hanging with me.

"You're not gay," he said.

"I beg your pardon?"

He laughed and passed me another slice of pizza. "What you are Michael, is a girl with a penis. If you had ovaries instead of testicles, you'd have a really nice chest and an ass I'd wanna grab every time I passed you in the hallway."

I looked at him in shock.

"In a dress and a wig and carefully applied makeup, you would easily pass as a girl, Michael."

"Bullshit," I said, unaccountably angry.

"Have you ever tried it?"

"No!" I lied, blushing. He laughed at me.

"One night, I want to dress you up as Michelle and take you out to a movie. Let you give me a handjob inside, maybe something more in the car." He leaned conspiratorially close, winking, making me blush even harder. "If I asked you to, would you suck my cock?"

My heart trip hammered. "Here?" I squeaked.

He laughed, trying not to draw attention to himself. "That would be interesting. Would you?"

It took me a moment to tell him no. I wondered had he said, Michael, I want you to crawl under the table and suck my cock, right here in front of all these people, half of them our classmates, whether I would do it. Please, I thought. Don't let him ask me to do it. He didn't.

Almost to the car, he said, "I want a blowjob on the way home, Michael. I want you to do it while I'm driving, and if I like it as much as I think I might, I have a place picked out where we can pull over and park. I'm gonna fuck you in the back seat too."

I looked at him aghast.

"Get in the car," he said. I got in the car. "Buckle up," he said, and I buckled up. "Do I have to tell you to breathe, Michael?" I began to breathe.

I have to tell you, that even then, I was in love with Stephen.

"How many guys have you sucked, Michael?"

I gave him the number, watching him wince. I explained that my first was family and that I'd been coerced into it at the age of 8.

"I might have turned out normal, if I hadn't spent three years sucking his dick whenever he wanted me to. And Josh." I told him how Josh had scoped what was going on with me and Jeff and decided he'd like a little mouth action of his own. How he gotten me into his bedroom one day after school and put me on my knees. "I was so used to being on my knees it hardly mattered that it wasn't the same cock, you know? Besides, I was 11 and he was 15 and he threatened to beat the shit out of me if I didn't do it." I looked over at him cautiously. He expression was neutral.

"Tell me about the other two," he suggested.

I told him about James, how Josh and he were best friends and how they shared me in Josh's bedroom after school, passing me back and forth like a porno actress. About the fucking, which they both did on my hands and knees and over the arm of a chair, and in other humiliating ways, for almost six months. I'd approached David on my own, and almost been beaten for my troubles.

"But he came back," Stephen said.

I nodded. "At a party. Told me if I ever told anybody he'd cut my balls off. He never, you know..." I looked out the passenger window. "I only blew him twice. There was never any sex. No anal sex, I mean."

"And this was when?" I could tell he was angry.

"About six months ago, I guess."

"And nothing since?" I was on the verge of tears. I may have sniffed because he said: "Don't you cry, Michael. You cry, and I'll put you out of my car. You understand me?"

"Yes, sir," I said involuntarily.

He barked out a laugh. "Sir?" He laughed even harder. And suddenly his anger broke and he was Stephen again, my hoped-for lover. He pushed me good-naturedly against the door—"Sir!"—shifted gears around a slow Toyota pick-up, accelerated too fast and made me yelp as he smacked his hand down on my thigh. "Sir! I don't believe it: Sir." I watched him knuckle tears away from his eyes; I was very confused. "Get over here," he said, and 10 seconds later I was sucking his cock.

It was a good place to park. Out a lonely road way up county with not a house in sight, and maybe a car passing our location every ten minutes. We couldn't be seen from the road. Above us, towering like Steel Godzilla in the darkness was a power transmission structure. The air hummed with elevated high voltage and even with the windows closed, I could hear an occasional crackle. It was unnerving, but comfortable.

"I like your cock," I told him sheepishly.

"I'm glad you like my cock," he replied, laughing at me. Currently I was stroking him up and down, savoring his return to life. His sperm was safely tucked away in my tummy and I hoped to have another load tucked safely in my rectum before too long. I kissed his head while he affectionately rubbed my hair.

"I meant it, what I said about you being more girl than boy, Michael." This time the comment didn't sting. I felt distinctly like a girl right then, anyway, putting my mouth over the head and sucking it lovingly. "Wanna hear something strange? You're the first person to ever swallow my cum, and you're a boy. How's that for irony?"

I didn't raise my head. He was coming back very quickly and I wanted him right where he was. I was surprised at his smallness, though it hardly mattered to me. (His size proved to be an illusion. Out of his pants, freed from interfering jeans and underwear, he was a little longer than Jeff, and equal in size to either Josh or James. He thought it interesting that I was so tiny in comparison, in keeping with his judgment of me being more girl than boy, I guess. Better than being ridiculed by my other partners.)

"Look at me, Michael." I raised my head and looked up at him. I was already breathless. "Next time we're together, I want you to wear a bra and panties under your clothes." I reacted in shock. "Nothing extravagant. Something your sister might wear. I'd prefer pink though," he added.

Embarrassed, I undid the top three buttons of my shirt, pulled it aside and showed him the strap of my bra. It was his turn to blink.

"Are you kidding me?" Wide-eyed, he ogled my crotch and I giggled, hand over my mouth to shut myself up giggling. He canted his head and stared at me like I had three eyes and two mouths.

"What?" I protested. Wide-eyed myself, I watched in trepidation as he reached out and undid the rest of my buttons, opened the shirt to expose my pink bra, and then pulled it halfway down my chest and arms. He eyed my chest, where breasts would be with Michelle.

"You were expecting this?" he asked.

I shook my head emphatically no.