Grace

Circa 1990, NYC

After Terry fucked me I felt a great warmth and tenderness toward him. We were leaning against the pillowed headboard. Terry was still naked, I had pulled on a pair of Grace's panties after wiping my bottom clean. Terry had not only filled me with warmth and tenderness (and his sperm) but had made me feel quite fem inside.

"I've never seen you wear Grace's panties before," he smiled.

"You've never fucked me before."

"Oh, is that what it takes?"

I leaned to my right and kissed Terry's bare shoulder. "You made me feel very... girly today."

"Is that a good thing?"

"It's a great thing, darling."

"Darling?" Terry seemed startled. He was still smiling, however. "Obviously Grace left some of her underwear behind."

"She did," I confirmed. "Not the good stuff, though."

"No?" Reaching over Terry gave the slanting erection in the vee-front of Grace's panty a caress. "You feel pretty good in it to me. Want me to pull it down, stroke you off?"

"No."

"No?"

"Not very girly is it?"

"Too bad you didn't get hard while I was fucking you," Terry said, pulling his hand away, his offer, "we could have cum together."

"No, I would've cum way before you, darling. You have great stamina. Just ask Grace." I went on: "That's why I always fuck her after you, at the end. You've already satisfied her. I just do mop-up duties."

"Sloppy seconds," Terry laughed.

"Exactly."

"You never satisfy her?"

"She's never told me as much. But since you came into our lives that's what I kind of figure. I've never heard her scream before like she does when you're fucking her. I cum too soon. I have to start, stop. Honestly, I think she gets bored. But with you..."

"Are you glad I came into your lives?" Terry, leaning over until our shoulders touched, inquired.

"After today?" I smiled back at him. "Absolutely! No," I continued, "I was glad from the very start. At first just the two of you, girlfriend and boyfriend sort of, then when we began having threesomes..."

"It felt kind of weird," Terry confessed, "fucking your wife in here while you were, like, twenty feet away in the other side of the apartment."

"I wasn't always twenty feet away."

Terry laughed. "OK, I know. But still...not in the bedroom with us. It didn't seem quite fair. Why not ask him to join us?"

"And I appreciate that," I said, giving Terry's slender left thigh a pat. "I wasn't sure Grace would go for it, but..."

"No, she seemed eager. Two good-looking guys in bed with her? Why not?"

"I think she suspects we're gay. Not gay," I hastened to say. "Bi. Bi-sexual," I repeated, as if it needed it.

"Because of all the touching and stuff?"

"The caressing, yeah. And me holding your balls while you fuck her. And then the past two times I sucked your cock before you put it in her..."

"I think she got off on that."

"You think?"

"Well, she lay there playing with herself while watching us. Has she said anything to you about it?"

"About which?"

"You and me?"

"All she said was, I think after the last time maybe...she said something like, 'I think you like Terry more than me.'"

"And what'd you say?"

"Nonsense, I told her," waving a hand.

"She should see us now."

"She should've seen us fifteen minutes ago."

Terry laughed again. "You going to tell her?"

"About us?"

Terry nodded.

"No way, man! She knew you'd be coming over, while she was away, but..."

"We never hid that from her."

"She encouraged it," I reminded Terry. "'You two can still get together while I'm gone,' she said. Remember?"

"And what exactly did she think was going to happen?"

"More touching?" I speculated. "Fondling? Me sucking your cock? Limited stuff. I mean she couldn't very well expect you to go six weeks without sex."

"What about you?"

"Oh, I don't count," I frowned, again waving a hand. "Sex for me is masturbation when she's not in the mood. Which is nearly all the time now since you came along."

"Sorry."

"No! It's fine," I assured Terry, caressing his left thigh again. My wife's—and now my—lover was slumped down slightly and his limp penis lay on his lower belly. And was it my imagination or was it stirring again? Perhaps beginning to swell? His nest of pubic hair was light brown. A light golden-brown. I had dark hair but otherwise, physically, Terry and I were much the same: tall, slender—Grace's type. Even our penises were almost identical in size and shape. It wasn't his size it was his stamina, Grace liked to remind me.

"She knew you'd be sucking my cock," Terry went on, resuming the thread.

"I guess."

"What did she think, that I'd be cumming down your throat?"

"I don't know. The last week, before she went to Prague on that teacher exchange thing...Grace was so excited she hardly talked about anything else. I just remember her saying, sort of, 'You boys get together and have some fun while I'm gone. I'll be back in six weeks.'"

"Really?" Terry sounding astonished.

"'Just don't have TOO much fun,' she said."

"Wow. And what we just did? Was that having TOO much fun?"

I laughed on my way to pressing my lips to Terry's left shoulder again. "I think that's exactly what she meant."

"Well what she doesn't know won't hurt her, right?"my lover tritely declared.

"No," I agreed, between kisses.

"What's that all about?" Terry asked.

"What?"

"This show of affection. You've never kissed me like this before. You've kissed my balls and my cock but..."

"Not in front of Grace," I said.

"Oh. While the cat's away...?"

Leaning further I slowly kissed down Terry's curved torso to his flat belly and his swelling cock. I took it in my mouth. Working my left hand underneath I cupped his balls. Here was a difference between us: Terry had a really nice pair. Plump, perfectly formed. Mine were fairly small in comparison. Was it any wonder I liked to cup them in my hand while he was banging my wife? While he was ejaculating in her?

Terry now said, as my head bobbed below, "Looks like someone wants to get fucked again."

I could not disagree.

Three weeks and many fucks later...

I decided to go all out this time. The new me.

A few visits ago I'd experimented. I met Terry at the apartment door not just in Grace's left-behind pantiesbut with my already longish hair brushed out and wearing one of my wife's neutral shades of lipstick (Grace's natural beauty meant she wasn't much dependent on makeup). I also shaved off my close-cropped beard. A smiling Terry said, "What's this?" as I kissed him on the cheek.

He seemed to like it—me—so, thankfully, from then on I dressed in my limited way for him. On this latest visit, however, I went all out. My legs were way too long for Grace's stockings so I went to a nearby sex shop and bought myself several pairs of plus-size thigh-highs with clingy lace tops. Two were sheer black and one was wedding white. I also treated myself to some panties of my own, sexy lace-scalloped ones and not the relatively plain ones Grace had left behind in her dresser drawer. In addition I bought green eyeshadow—to complement my eyes—and a tube of red lipgloss. No more neutral shades for this daring "gurl."

It was dressed in all this new regalia—I chose the virginal-white stockings and matching lace panties—that I showed off the newest "new me" to my lover. Terry kissed me just inside the doorway—on painted lips. A first. It was a good sign. He then let his hands slide down to my slender waist and leaned back. "Goddamn you look cute!" he declared. "All you need's a bra, hon."

The oversight made me want to kick myself. "I could put on one of Grace's. My tits," I laughed, "are nearly big as hers."

We both laughed. It was true. Grace wore a B-cup size, but hardly needed it. Terry gave my pantied ass a reassuring pat and said, "No, you're fine as is, hon. I just meant..."

I was thrilled. It was only in the past few visits that Terry had started calling me "hon." He was "darling" to me and now I was "hon" to him. We kissed some more—on the lips. He tasted of coffee. Espresso.

"I have some news!" I said, after breaking it off. I simply couldn't constrain myself any longer. Terry put his arm around my waist as we walked into the livingroom.

"Good or bad?" he asked.

"Depends on how you look at it, hon." My whole body was tingling with excitement—and anticipation. I took a deep breath. "Grace called me from Prague last night..."

"And?"

"She's not coming back. I mean—"

"Never?" Terry blurted in disbelief.

"Well, no. Just not...yet." I took another breath. "She met someone over there. He wants her to, um, stay—at least until winter."

"What about her teaching job? Here?"

"Frankly, Terry, Grace didn't seem too concerned about that. Or interested. She made some noises about getting a work visa and teaching English in the fall semester over there. Apparently this guy—her new friend—is a professor. An older guy. Has some pull. I don't know..."

"What about...us?" springing on me the question I'm certain he'd been dying to ask all along.

I shrugged. And wished I'd been doing it beneath slender white bra straps. "She didn't seem too concerned about us either."

"Or interested?"

"She has a new lover, Terry, what can I say?"

"She's infatuated."

"Yeah," I agreed, trying my best not to sound completely indifferent.

"Did she ask about me?"

"Obliquely. Sort of." After a pause I added, "She asked if you'd been over. I said yes. We kind of left it at that. One weird thing..."

"What?"

"She said she'd left some clothes behind. Gave me her address in Prague and asked if I could ship them over. Including her underwear and stuff," I couldn't help smiling.

"She can't just buy it over there?"

Another shrug. "Sentimental attachment," I suggested. "Who knows?"

Terry shrugged as well. "Good thing you bought some for yourself," reaching out to fondle me in my silky white.

"Good timing," I said.

We hugged. We kissed. I tasted coffee. Terry squeezed my bottom.

I pulled his top off, then opened his pants and lowered them.

I sank to my knees, stockinged for the first time. I kissed Terry's pretty balls—the size and shape of two ripe apricots—and up the tall underside of his erection. I took him in my mouth.

I took him up my ass.

Only this time, for the first time, he fucked me on my back. So, he said, smiling down on me, he could look at my "pretty face."

I closed my eyes and opened my mouth—to the pleasure his by-now familiar cock was once again giving me. It was different, glancing up at times at Terry's looming, handsome face. He always smiled during sex. He loved giving pleasure and receiving it.

He rolled me over and fucked me in the accustomed way: on my elbows and knees, locks of my dark hair hanging down as I wondered if I should invest in a wig. Blonde? A wig, a bra—go the whole way. Completely en femme for my lover.

"We need to get you a name," Terry said at some point.

"Name?"

"Yeah, a fem name. Yours won't do."

He fucked me in silence for a moment then said, "When you were still dressing in your wife's panties I was thinking...'Grace'."

"Grace?"

"For a fem name."

"But that's Grace's name."

"Yeah, I get that," Terry said sarcastically, as he banged away at me. "But she's not around."

"She'll be back."

"Maybe. When she is I won't call you Grace anymore."

"You're serious? Grace? Me?"

"You have a better idea, hon?"

In truth, I had dozens of them. Though not at that pleasurably intense moment. Not under the circumstances. It was all I could do to keep from drooling on the pillow I stared down at.

"Grace, then. I don't care," I finally said. If the man bringing this much love and pleasure and affection into my life wanted to call me by my wife's name...? So be it. I couldn't help wondering what it signified, however. Did Terry actually miss my wife? I was her surrogate, yes, but was he pretending the whole time—fantasizing—that I was her? I shrugged, inwardly, as Terry's cries threatened to rattle the bedroom windows and as he emptied his bountiful balls in me.

Oh!

He cried out and so did I. As always I wondered what the neighbors would think, as there was no soprano any longer to offset Terry's baritone.

"I'll get a towel," I cheerfully volunteered, while Terry, after pulling out and still on his knees, regained his focus, caught his breath.

After wiping my crack clean of lube and then his drooping, lovely penis, Terry smiled at me and said, "Thanks, Grace."

We sat next to each other on the bed. We hugged. Kissed. I'd pulled my panties back on. Mine, not Grace's. Terry began caressing me in them.

"Any time, darling," my reply.