Mad Dog - No More Heroes

8 - Valentine's Night Massacre:

Mackenzie's place was a long-term serviced apartment in Chelsea. Basically a furnished one bedroom flat but with a hotel's hot and cold running housekeeping.

Mack and I had met on one of my first jobs for the TSG. I'd been attached to the Foreign and Commonwealth Office and posted to the British Consulate in Houston, Texas.

I'd met her in November during the British Remembrance Sunday ceremony, laying a poppy wreath at the memorial in Houston Veterans Cemetery. She there in her role as a serving officer with the National Guard.

My posting to the States had only been six months in duration, but in that time we'd developed a deep relationship. After I'd been posted back to the UK we'd kept in touch by email and Skype. But I wasn't optimistic. Long distance relationships just don't work.

Last summer Mack surprised me; she'd been offered a place at Kings College on a postgrad course. Our relationship was physical again.

I'm relaxing in a deeply comfy leather armchair, nursing a glass of red wine, gazing out over Chelsea Basin and the London skyline. Oh, and waiting for Mack to finish getting ready so we can go out.

I'm booted and suited, wearing the Hugo Boss suit that she bought me as a Christmas present. I don't get many opportunities to wear it at work.

"You're not planning any kinda surprise for Saint Valentine's night, are you shug?" Her voice came from the bedroom.

"Madog, Michael, John. Sergeant. 30574712," I replied. "Name, rank and serial number as required under the Geneva Convention."

Mack popped her head round the doorway from the bedroom.

"Not even under strict interrogation?" She asked.

"Do your worst, you'll get nothing out of me," I said in my best attempt at a heroic stiff-upper-lipped Brit voice.

"Really?" she raised an immaculately groomed eyebrow. "We'll see."

She came out of the bedroom wearing a black lacy bra with matching panties and garter belt, along with sheer black stockings and spike-heeled shoes. Mack didn't so much walk over to me as sashayed, swaying her hips outrageously.

"I'll tell you anything you want to know," I croaked.

"Yes you will," she smiled and bent down to kiss me on the lips. "Now tell me

Sergeant Madog, have you made reservations to go out some place to eat tonight?"

"Ah, no," I lied.

"Good, we'll order in," she purred. Mack rested on the arm of the chair, reached round my shoulders and hugged me into her breasts. "As it is, I'm feeling kinda overdressed."

Mack grasped my tie, she rose gracefully and pulled it taught. I took the hint and stood. She used the tie to lead me into the bedroom.

"Strip," Mack snapped.

It was definitely an order. I began to undress, dropping my clothes on the floor.

"What're you doing?" she asked. "Babe, that's the only good suit y'all have."

"You don't mention it often, just every time I spill something on it," I tell her, "and you're seriously killing the vibe here."

"Just you do as ordered soldier!"

"Ma'am, yes ma'am."

When I've undressed and hung my clothes up in the wardrobe, I stood before her in my underpants.

Mack pulled my shorts down. She grasped my semi-erect cock and briefly caressed it.

"On the bed," she whispered, "face down."

As soon as I was in place she straddled my backside, her weight pressing me down down and her thighs squeezing tightly on my hips. I could feel her cock, hot and hard through the flimsy material of her panties.

She reached over me to the bedside table and grabbed something. There was a squeezing sound from a bottle and cool massage oil was dribbled onto my back. The oil had a heady scent, vanilla, and having her hands work over my body was incredibly sensual.

Mack's hands glided over my shoulders, down my back to my buttocks. Her strong fingers kneaded my muscles. It felt incredibly good.

"So, I'm guessing you've had a rough week at work, huh?"

"How can you tell?"

"Your muscles are a mess of kinks, and not the good kind either shug." She giggled, "still, I guess I can loosen 'em up for you."

"Oh yeah."

"So, what's got you so tense?" she asked. "You didn't mention anything to me when we've talked on the phone."

"Its work," I admitted.

"OK," she began giving my shoulders a deep massage, driving her palms into the muscles. "Anything you can talk about?"

"Yeah, I shouldn't, but I will."

And I told her everything about Dankworth getting me to do his dirty work.

"What a bastard!" Mack whispered acidly, "I thought when I was in the National Guard Special Forces some of the shit they made me do was bad, they're nothing compared to your MoD!"

Then she slid forward, her breasts pressing into my back. She kissed my shoulders and nipped at my earlobe.

"OK babe, I need you on your back," she whispered and raised her bum a little so I could roll over under her.

Mack kept her arse raised and eased her panties down exposing her erect cock. I always get nervy when I see it. I find her incredibly sexy, but I'm not bi. Not even bi curious.

So why is it that whenever we make love I end up giving her a hand job?

Seriously. I know what's going to happen tonight. I'll play with her cock 'till she's hard then Mack will roll onto her back, I'll shag her in the missionary position while she jerks herself off.

With her panties off she dropped back down onto me and started to grind her bum on my cock. Her own willy was now fully erect. The big purple head protruded from her foreskin. She bent forwards and began to tease my chest and nipples with her long, blood red nails.

"It's time," she smiled, it was a predatory expression.

I steeled myself and reached out to touch her cock. Gently caressing the hot, hard member.

"Not that hun, not this time" the meat-eating smile became a wide grin. "I'm versatile, not a bottom, and we've had that conversation before."

In the world of transwomen there are tops, bottoms and versatiles. Tops believe that it's better to give than to receive; bottoms take it and versatile transwomen like to give and take. Mack's versatile.

"Ah, you're going to top me aren't you?" I stated the patently bleeding obvious. It was always going to happen eventually.

Mack lent forwards, making her hard nipples track up my torso. She caressed my face with her fingertips.

"I'll be gentle hun," she planted a small peck on my lips, "just relax, you'll like it, I promise."

She kissed me again. This time her tongue invaded my mouth. I could feel our hard cocks pressing against each other and I began to thrust my hips into her groin. Mackenzie reciprocated rubbing our cocks together.

When she slid off me I was disappointed. I'd sort of assumed she'd do me in the missionary position like usual.

"Get onto your hands and knees sweetheart."

I obliged her. She gently pushed my back down so my body was flat on the bed but my bum was raised. Mack used her knees and thighs to spread my legs further apart. When she was finally satisfied that she had me in the right position I felt the cool ooze of lubricant applied to my exposed anus.

It was a shock when her finger penetrated me. The muscles of my anus contracted around her probing finger, trying to grip the intruding digit.

A few seconds later she pulled her finger out and wiped the excess lube around my scrotum. I heard the paper tearing noise as Mack opened a condom.

"OK just relax," she cooed soothingly.

I jumped when I felt the first touch of her cock against my virgin sphincter. I pushed back against Mackenzie and felt my anus begin to stretch. She thrust in and out of me building up a steady rhythm. With every stroke I could feel the prickle of the stubble on her balls as they collided with my own scrotum.

Mack reached round and began to stroke my cock. It felt so good. My prostate was pounding from the pressure and I knew I was ready to come. After a few more strokes from her hand I came in the palm of her hand.

That was it. Stick a fork in me I'm done. I slumped on the bed and lay with my eyes closed gasping for breath. The bed creaked and I realised that Mackenzie had got off.

I heard the clang of the pedal bin lid in the bathroom followed by running water as she washed her hands.

The bed creaked again and I rolled over onto my back.

I opened my eyes. She was lying on her side next to me. Mack gave me a wide beaming smile.

"Intense, yeah?" she asked.

"Oh yeah," I smiled back at her. "You know when I said I hadn't made reservations to go out to eat?"

"Yeah."

"I lied," I said, "I was going to take you to the 606 Club for dinner and jazz."

"What time's the reservation?"

"Eight."

Mack raised her head and looked at the bedside clock radio.

"It's almost seven, we could still make it if we hurry."

She rolled over and took my face in her hands before kissing me deeply. When we broke for air I said it. I only went and bloody said it.

"I love you."

Her smile became broader and warmer.

"You've never said that before."

"I know," I nodded, "I always wanted to but kept holding on for the right moment. Reckon this is it."

She seemed to catch her breath, before saying: "I love you too."

And there it was, all official and out in the open. We were in love.