I've always considered myself gay, but I have had a few experiences with women. Mostly back in high school and college, when I was still trying to make up my mind which side of the fence I wanted to be on. There was never anything difficult about it, most girls go for my looks. If I wanted it that way, I'd just go out and get it. I was never with the same girl more than once or twice. That is, until I met Emma.
I was between relationships at the time. Roger and I had split up on fairly good terms just the month before and I wasn't really looking yet. In fact, I wasn't even planning on getting laid when I went down to Buddy's that night. I just wanted to dance, have a few drinks, see some friends, whatever. Then in comes this blonde chick, decked out like Hillary Swank in "Boys Don't Cry," already pretty drunk. She came over to me, flirting and grinning, seriously trying to pass as a boy. I saw through it right away, but I was fairly amused by her boldness. We danced for a while and then sat down to have a drink.
"What's your name?" I asked her.
"Paul," she answered in a ridiculously husky voice.
"Paul," I laughed. "I see through your little disguise, sweetheart. Now, come on, what's your name, really?"
"Emma," she said, not the least bit embarrassed that I'd found her out.
"What's your game, Emma?"
She shrugged. "I like fags."
She told me that she did the man-drag thing occasionally, and that usually she could pull it off. I kind of doubted that, unless the guys she met were either half-blind or fully drunk. She had a thin boyish build, but a very feminine face. Plus she stuffed her jeans so tight it looked like she had a codpiece on under there.
"I bet I get more cock in this place than you do," she teased.
Emma was really bold, making all kinds of sexual cracks, and finally inviting herself up to my place. What could I do? I was bored, marginally horny, and a little curious to see if this girl was all talk or what. I had no idea what I was getting myself into.
The thing I remember most about that first night was Emma, her little ass stuck in the air, saying: "Fuck me like a boy."
I did it, of course. There's honestly not that much difference between boy-butt and girl-butt, and Emma literally took it like a man. I was impressed. Then, before I knew it, I found myself seeing her a few times a week.
I'd never had a girlfriend before, never really wanted one, but Emma was more like a man in bed than any other girl I'd ever been with. She seemed to like it in the ass and in the pussy more or less equally. Plus she gave better oral than some guys I've been with. Most women have no real idea what to do with a cock in their mouth. It takes a guy to really know a guy, but Emma was a world-class cocksucker. She didn't even mind it when I told her I wanted to come on her face instead of in her mouth.
This went on for a few months before I started to get bored fucking somebody who couldn't fuck me back. I think Emma sensed that my interest was waning, because she kept trying to sell me on the idea of a three-way with her psycho girlfriend, Paula.
I wouldn't have pegged Emma as a dyke, but then Emma didn't seem to fit with any type I'd ever met before. Like I said, she almost seemed like a man in a woman's body, so I guess it wasn't surprising that she had a girl.
I'd met Paula a few times and she was either rabidly jealous that I was screwing Emma on the side, or moony-eyed like she was falling in love with me. Kind of a scary girl, but I don't know what else I should have expected from Emma.
Anyway, Emma was on me all the time to sleep with the two of them at once.
"It's every guy's fantasy," she said.
"Every straight guy's fantasy," I corrected. "Or did you forget that I'm gay?"
Emma frowned at that and nodded. I should known her well enough by then to realize she was formulating a plan in that devious mind of hers.
I didn't hear from her for a while, and I just assumed that she wanted to cool it off a bit. This was just as well for me, because I usually don't like my love life to get so complicated. Little did I know that it was about to get even more tangled and bizarre.
Emma called me a few weeks later and told me to come over to her place, that she had a surprise for me. My curiosity got the better of me and I took the bait. And that's when I met Christian.
Christian, I learned, was a bus boy at the club where Emma worked. She had snared him easily in the spider's web that was her sexuality. He wasn't my usual "type." I tend to go for buff guys, preferably blonde with a mustache or a goatee. Christian was thin and dark-haired, clean-shaven. But he did kind of remind me of my first real boyfriend, David, who I'd gone with back in high school. Some very fond memories there. So I was already interested in him when Emma said: "Christian said he'd do anything I told him to. Anything."
"Really?" I said. Christian looked away, blushing. He was kind of shy, and I liked that too.