I enter the kitchen, wondering how it could have come to this. I was warned by all my friends, or at least the ones who knew. Although, now that I think about it, there weren’t that many. Did he only want to do it with a trans girl? Maybe that’s the first clue that deep down I know it’s wrong anyway. At what point do you cheat? Is it the moment when the desire for the other rears its ugly head? Or is it the moment when you physically give in? Which is worse, kissing the wrong person? Or wanting to kiss them?

If you live two lives, can you have two loves? All these questions are running through my mind at this late hour. I take off my high heels and hold them in one hand as I close the kitchen door behind me. I don’t turn on the light; the moon is bright enough to guide me through the kitchen. I sit down on a barstool at the high kitchen table. This is my regular spot in the kitchen, where I eat breakfast every day during the week, and on weekends when my husband is home, we eat breakfast at the big dining table.

I wonder if this would have happened even if he came home every day after work instead of just on weekends. Like a normal couple. But then I ask myself, would I want that? My life is shaped by his work. During the week it’s my life, on the weekends it’s our life, … but more his life, his friends, his family. As I sit on the barstool, I suddenly become aware that I have no underwear on under my dress, and for a moment a smile appears on my face. I feel guilty and exhilarated at the same time. It is two o’clock in the morning and I should have been in bed long ago, tomorrow I have to work, but I am sitting here at the kitchen table in my summer dress, without underwear and wide awake because of what has just happened, and above all I am still buttery horny. I think of it as a nightcap, but I know better. This is a procrastination to go to sleep. Tomorrow night he, my husband, returns and I don’t know how to behave, how I will feel, or should feel. The light from the refrigerator shines on my black dress, my nipples still poking through the fabric from the restaurant. Since lust overcame me.

I take a sip from my glass and think about the misery I’ve gotten myself into. This is so against my nature, against my own principles. But why don’t I feel bad? Why don’t I feel ashamed of the burning sensation between my legs? Why, when I close my eyes, do I still see him standing there in his jeans and his desire? I take a last sip from my glass and put it back on the table next to my high heels and my keys. The cleaning is for tomorrow morning. I go to the bedroom and don’t even bother to turn on the light. The open curtains let in enough moonlight for me to find my way around. I pull my robe over my head and let it fall to the floor. Naked, I crawl into bed. The silk sheets feel pleasantly cool against my still overheated body. God, I could use some cooling right now. Against all odds, I fall asleep quickly and wake up only when the sunlight shines in my face through the open curtains. I eat my breakfast in silence at the kitchen table.

I skip the usual morning ritual of eating today, a full breakfast while listening to the news on the radio. Instead, I have a quick shower and just a cup of coffee at the kitchen table. My stilettos on the kitchen table now seem like a permanent reminder of yesterday. They seem to be staring at me in an accusing tone. I put them far away in the shoe closet, as if I wanted to put yesterday’s event far away as well. When I am ready to go to work, I take out my cell phone and see that I have a message. When I open it, I see that it is from him. From Arthur.

“You have forgotten something. Is all that is written. But there is a picture. A picture of a red slip. My red slip that I wore yesterday before I went to see him. For a moment I don’t know what to make of it. The picture of my panties is 10 times more confrontational than my high heels that were on the table this morning. What should I say to him? “I think yesterday was a mistake. I send him back. “Are you sure?” I get back almost immediately. “I think so.” I send him back lying. I read and reread his last message. Not knowing in what tone he wrote it. Confident, angry, scared, …. I take my keys from the kitchen counter and walk out the door to the train station. Like every day, I take the train to work, and during the 45-minute ride, I dare to think back to last night. I can still see him sitting in the restaurant. Unshaven, super masculine. Totally out of place in that overpriced restaurant, yet so clearly present to me. I think the moment he greeted me and kissed me on the cheek (coming a little too close to my lips), a first boundary was broken for me. My everyday life suddenly became boring when he sat at the table with me. We sat there in silence, not saying a word for a while.

Neither of us knew how to articulate what we wanted to say. Until he broke the silence and casually said. “I want you, you are a beautiful trans girl,” he says suddenly. I looked at him for a moment in surprise. “I can’t put it any other way,” he continues. “I’ve had a hard-on ever since you walked in here, and I know you feel the same excitement.” “How do you know that?” I try to answer him coolly, but I am lying to myself, because as soon as I saw him sitting down, I almost melted. I wonder how he can have such an effect on me when I have only known him for a few days. “Partly because your nipples have been sticking out through your dress ever since you saw me, and partly because I’m sure your panties are soaking wet right now.” “Maybe.” I answer him, trying to keep the blush from creeping up my cheeks. “I’d like to take you here and now, but it’s too dangerous, I know.

That’s why we’re going to do this differently. You are going to take off your panties and give them to me. Then we’ll have a quick drink and hurry back to my house, and I’ll fuck you there! What do you think? He looks at me confidently and waits for my answer. I smile and look at him sultrily. For a moment I wonder what I should do. If I give in now, I will at least get into a lot of trouble. The wisest thing would be to get up now and go home? But my beating heart decides something else. My hands slip under the table and, as inconspicuously as possible, I reach under my robe and lift my bottom for a moment. My fingers hook behind my red panties and pull them down.

Luckily, we are in a corner of the restaurant where no one can see us. I cradle my panties in my hand and clearly feel that they are wet. Damn, I hate it when he’s right. He looks at me and puts his left hand on the table, open, waiting for his trophy. I look him straight in the eye and place his prize in his hand. “I don’t want a drink. I want to go home now. You’re right, it’s too dangerous here. That’s why we’re going to get up and go to your house. I want you to take me there, and then we will part ways. This is not good for either of us. But I can’t go on without a proper goodbye. He pulls his hand away and my panties disappear into his pocket. Then he gets up and walks out of the restaurant without looking back. I am left perplexed, not knowing how to take this. I briefly consider ordering a glass of wine to calm myself down, but before I can wave the waiter over, I get a message. I open my purse and read that it is from him. “Where are you staying? I’m almost home!” I read on my screen. I smile, get up and walk out of the restaurant. I feel the fresh breeze between my legs where my panties were just a few minutes ago.

But the freshness can’t lower the temperature there. With a quick step, I make my way to his apartment. Almost as soon as I knock on his door, it opens as if he were waiting behind it. He takes my hand and pulls me inside. I barely have a chance to see his apartment before he lifts me up and pushes me against the wall, my legs wrapped around him as our lips touch. This is the moment of total surrender. His hands cradle my bare bottom as he tongues me fervently. My hands explore his muscular back as I try to pull his t-shirt off over his head. He sets me down on the floor and helps me by removing his shirt with one hand. His muscular chest shows his top physical condition, but his scars also show the marks of a hard life. I

kiss his chest, slowly working my way down his hard abs. At the height of his jeans, I unbutton them and take them with me on my way down. Once on my knees, my hands slide down his muscular calves and thighs to his boxers. I pull them down as well, and soon his hard ones jump out at me. I take him in my right hand and kiss his balls. This is followed by a long, slow lick from the bottom of his shaft to the tip of his penis. I just want him all the way, even though I know I’m doing the wrong thing. But he is irresistible to me. He stands there casually watching me indulge his penis. Not knowing that his look is making me melt even more. I dive into him and take his member all the way into my mouth. Determined, I begin to suck him with deep movements.

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Meanwhile, my left hand cupped his balls while my right hand moved to his ass. There I feel 2 hard muscular cheeks that seem to contract every time I take his penis as deep as possible into my mouth. His right hand slides down my neck to the back of my head where he grabs my hair in his fist. Then he begins to thrust with his pelvis, setting the pace of the blowjob. He goes deep, but always manages to pull back just in time so that he doesn’t go too deep and I can continue quietly. I want him to come like this, I want to taste him, something I don’t do easily with my husband, but here in this moment it just feels right. I hear him moan and realize that he is fucking himself in my mouth. I allow it, I want it so badly. I repeat to myself in my head, “This is my moment of total surrender. But after a while I stop him, I want to prepare him, not him. Again I take control and continue to suck him off. I suck hard on his glans before slowly sliding his penis as deep as I can into my mouth. I alternate short, quick movements with deep, long strokes. For a moment I wonder if he is going to warn me before he comes, but before I can finish that thought I hear a growl from him, his glans swells in my mouth and a first jet of hot seed fills my mouth. Immediately a second and a third jet follow. He looks deeply at me the moment he removes his penis from my mouth.

A drop slips out of my mouth, but before it reaches my chin, I wipe it up with my finger and bring it to my mouth with the rest of his seed. Then I swallow it all. He pulls me up and carries me further into the dining room, where he puts me on the dining table. He immediately kneels between my legs and begins kissing the inside of my thighs, working his way to the middle. With each touch of his lips closer to my pussy, I seem to melt more and more. I arch my back so I can remove my robe and lie completely naked on his dining table. Just then he licks my pussy deliciously and I can’t help but moan. I feel that I am soaking wet between my legs and find it delicious as he tastes me. It has been a long time since I have been so aroused.

Very controlled, he licks my sensitive clit. With his left hand, he holds me still so that I don’t move my hips, while his right hand caresses my breasts. He skillfully rolls my stiff nipples between his fingers. As his right hand descends, he uses it to sink a finger into my soaking wet cave, soon followed by a second. He fingers me heavenly while still managing to keep licking me. My own hands now cradle my breasts, gently pinching my nipples. I gasp as I reach my climax. Both of his hands now cover my hips to restrain my uncontrollable movements.

As my orgasm subsides, he stands up and leans a little further against a cabinet, looking at me. I half stand up and lean on my elbows, looking back at him. I close my legs neatly, as neatly as you can when you’re stark naked on a dining room table. He steps back toward me and opens my legs with his hands, so he can get between them, then …. The subway announces my stop and removes me from my vivid memory. My cheeks are flushed. A mixture of guilt, excitement, confusion and nervousness runs through me as I get off the subway, trying to put my 2 men out of my mind. These are worries after 5 o’clock.