Chapter 1: Discovery

I'm working out at the gym, late in the evening on a Friday, lifting weights and working on my upper body to try in vain to get as big as some of these other massive muscle-bound gym rats. I was already sort of mad because my two coworkers, Jim and Tasha, had cancelled on our night out downtown, Jim saying he was tired and Tasha saying that she had forgotten that she had to wake up really early the next morning for an appointment.

But I knew the truth was they had shafted me last-minute because they wanted time alone; I had noticed them becoming closer and closer over the past few weeks and I would have appreciated them being straight up with me instead of ditching me over other excuses. I was also sort of jealous of Jim, but couldn't blame Tasha for picking him to date over me; he was the more muscular guy, and although some girls though I looked charming with my golden-brown eyes and wavy black hair and thought I was sensitive and chivalrous, I guess it didn't really matter because Jim could put the moves on women much better than I ever could.

So, I was hitting the weights pretty hard trying to get my energy out, and I looked pretty focused and concentrated. Doing some hammer curls, I just about maxed out and groaned as I tried to do the last one, then dropped the weights on the floor and sat down on the bench next to me, breathing hard.

"Hey, you dropped this."

I was surprised by the voice and slightly but visibly jumped, then saw the person behind me, holding up my keys.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you or anything, I just noticed that you dropped your keys over by the weights over there," she explained in her soft, warbling voice.

I just sort of sat there and stared, like an idiot. I don't know if it was because I was so exhausted and out of it, or because the woman holding up my keys was absolutely, breathtakingly gorgeous . . . or both. I just looked at the keys, then looked up at her standing next to the bench.

She had jet black hair, currently tied up but most probably long enough to reach just down just past her shoulders if she didn't have it up. She had on athletic sneakers and seemed to have long, slender legs and a firm butt underneath her tight, black sweatpants. Her midriff was pretty toned and with solid, visible abs, which I could see as she was wearing a black sports bra top. She had smooth, muscular but feminine arms and shoulders, and seemed to be blessed with a firm and beautiful size C chest. She had a somewhat darker, olive skin tone, making me think she was Italian or Greek, maybe Israeli, perhaps. Her soft hand held out the keys to me and the expression on her face looked sort of like mine probably did – tired from working out, but as if something of interest had just appeared in front of you and you were trying to discern whether or not it was real or just a mirage.

I felt like we were lost in each other's gaze for minutes (even though my watch timer was running and indicated afterwards that it couldn't have lasted more than ten or twenty seconds), before she broke my dumbfounded silence.

Slowly breaking into an incredulous smile, "You okay there, Mister? Cat got your tongue or something?"

I finally snapped out of it and shook my head as if I had been splashed with some cold water. "No, uh, I mean, I'm just out of it I guess. Sorry about that. Thanks so much for giving these back to me, that would have been an unpleasant surprise if I had gotten back home without them!" I smiled back and took the keys dangling off of her fingers.

Again, it seemed like we just looked at each other for a few minutes . . . and then, with a wink, "No problem, Mister," and she walked back to the weight machines.

I just watched her walk away, swaying her hips from side to side as she stepped lightly over to the machines with a typical girly walk. I grinned, wondering at how she was so girly and feminine but also so confident and powerful at the same time – I mean, against a mugger off the street, she could probably kick his butt, brush herself off, and then get back to a night out with the girls.

She looked so cute, standing there, regarding the machines with her arms folded, then with one hand stroking her chin as if she was in deep thought about how to change up her workout for the night. She, I, and two huge Schwarzenneger types were the only people in the gym at 9:45 on a Friday, and I for one was glad that she was there to brighten up the scenery!

I tried to get back to my workout, but I was completely distracted now. I didn't think I had a chance with this girl – I mean, she obviously had two much better physical specimens to pick from in the room already, and could probably pick out any hot guy she wanted at a club – but I was still caught up with her. I felt affected by her somehow, something that I hadn't felt before . . . well, actually something I had never felt before . . . with any of the women I had dated or checked out, even any of my old steady girlfriends. Heh, well, now ex-girlfriends, of course.

I couldn't tell, but I thought that I had seen the same feeling reflected in her own dark brown eyes. But, I was always a bad judge of other people when it came to things like that.

I maneuvered myself over to the shoulder press, partially because I wanted to hit a new machine but also because it allowed me to see this girl in the gym's wall mirrors as I sat down. She was working out her abs on an inclined bench, and it was really an amazing sight – I could barely do my own workout, I was so absorbed in watching her. Her sweaty body glistened under the lights as her abs crunched and brought her taut form up close to her knees, her breath escaping her mouth and flared nostrils. As her muscles relaxed, she breathed back in and lay back down against the bench, her sports bra holding her magnificent cleavage and her sweatpants leaving to my imagination her strong thigh muscles straining against the material of her clothes.

I could watch this all day, I thought.

Well, I figured that I needed to stop being a jerk and staring at her while she worked out, so I finished up and decided to hit the showers before the place closed. As I was about to leave, however, I saw one of the musclemen walk up to the girl and start to taunt her.

"Hey there, buttercup, you done with your little workout? Want to come back to the men's locker room with me, where you belong?" he jeered.

"Buzz off, Greg," she said assertively, though I could see that her annoyed face betrayed a hint of fear. She obviously knew this guy from somewhere . . . but what was their history?

"Don't you tell me to buzz off, La-la. I oughta beat the crap out of you after what you pulled with me, you disgusting freak. In fact, maybe I should finish that job right now, I doubt any of these guys would care if they knew what you really were, you fre-"

She stood up and got in Greg's face.

"Don't call me La-la, you jerk! My name's Ayala, you never got it right when we were together, and you sure as hell have no right to call me by your nicknames anymore. And you know what? If you want to finish the job you started last time, then go ahead! I know it was unfair of me to not tell you, but it gave you no right . . . and it still doesn't give you a right to bother me all the time instead of just leaving me alone and letting me live my life! But go ahead, if it'll make you feel like a man. Go ahead, punch me!" She pointed to her chin. I started running across the gym towards the two of the – I couldn't let this go on any longer, I was worried that this guy would actually pummel her . . .

"Fine, you stupid freak!" Greg yelled at her and pulled back his meaty arm to strike at her, and just then, I threw myself in between them.

"Leave her alone, man!" I yelled, summoning up courage that I was pretty sure that I didn't really have.

"Dude, get out of my face, this is between us two, don't get in the way or you'll get hurt," Greg warned. I knew he was serious, too.

Ayala, standing behind me, put her hand on my shoulder. "Please, get out of here, I don't want you to get hurt," she whimpered.

No, I can't just let this happen." In a softer voice to Ayala, I intoned, "I don't want you to get hurt either." Turning back to Greg, I said with a surprising edge to my voice, "I can't believe you're even thinking about hitting this woman. I can't just let you do that, buddy, so you had better back off or you'll have to take me on first."

"You're such an idiot. You don't even know what she is . . ." he said, as if I was making some huge mistake. "Well, it doesn't matter, I'll go right through you." He pushed me back, and I almost fell over, but stood my ground. At 5'9", I was at least six inches shorter than this guy, and Ayala was even shorter than me at around 5'6" (which made me marvel at how brave she was to have stood up to him a second ago).

The gym intercom buzzed. "The gym will be closing in 5 minutes. Please finish your workouts and exit the building; the showers have now been turned off."

Greg stood there, seeming to ponder whether going after me and Ayala was worth it or not. "Forget you two," he grumbled, as he picked up his bag and left the area.

I breathed a huge sigh of relief. "Oh wow, I thought that guy was going to kill me for sure!" I started laughing, then turned around.

Ayala was tearing up, immediately killing the smile on my face and replacing it with a look of worry. "I'm sorry you had to . . ." she whispered, then the tears started to fall, softly.

I tried to calm her. "Hey now, don't worry, that creep's gone, and you don't have to be sorry about anything. I can't believe that jerk was going to hurt you! Hey babe, c'mon, stop crying, it's okay." I wiped her tears away from her face with my hands, gently. She opened her eyes and looked up at me. We gazed into each other's eyes again, and this time, I was sure that there was some deeper, unspoken but mutually understood connection between us.

The intercom buzzed again. We both looked up as the lights dimmed. "The gym is now closed. Please take your belongings and proceed to the nearest exit, and have a wonderful night." Not even any time to change out of our clothes!

"Hey, Mister . . . let's go," she whispered, softly and tenderly. She slipped into the women's locker room to grab her bag, and I retrieved mine from the men's locker room. I waited for her at the door to the gym. She came running towards me, and we exited the gym together.

Outside, we started walking.

I heard Ayala say softly, "I . . . I want to thank you for what you did back there. You didn't have to, but you did, most guys would probably just walk away or wait until Greg actually hit me to do anything." We were walking down the street, she had thrown on a red jacket and I was still in my workout clothes. I don't think either of us had a clue where we were going, but it seemed we were just both glad not to be going anywhere alone tonight.

"Hey, no problem, I think I owed you that much after you found my keys for me." I flashed her a warm smile. She looked up at me and smiled back brightly.

"What's your name, Mister?" she asked, beginning to sound more cheerful. She paused and turned to face me.

"It's Ken." I stood next to her.

"Ken, nice to meet you, I'm Ayala." She held out her hand with a perky movement, and I shook it.

"Nice to meet you too! So, uh, what now? Where are we going?"

"I don't really know, I was just sort of wandering around, but I thought it was okay as long as I was next to you. I feel sort of shaken up . . ." she wrinkled her nose and gave me a cute little frown.

I smiled reassuringly. "Hey, don't worry, I figured I was going to walk you to your car and see you off at least so that creep couldn't change his mind or anything. I figured, if he came after us again, that I could let him use me as a punching bag while you ran to get help."

She laughed. "You dork! I'm sure you could put up a good fight. And besides, I'm sure the two of us could take him! We already scared him off once!" Ayala punched my shoulder jokingly.

Ayala continued. "Anyway, I don't have a car, I usually walk home from here, it's only about a half a mile out into the apartments over by 10th street. I usually stop over at this small diner on the way to grab some dinner. You don't have to walk me home, it would probably be out of your way." Then she looked right at me and gave me these puppy eyes to lay a guilt trip on me, you know, like that cat from the movie Shrek 2.

"Okay, okay! I'll walk you home! Just don't use the puppy eyes, that's my one weakness with women!" We both laughed. She locked her arm with mine and we both began walking towards her apartment building.

"Mmmm," she purred, "my knight in shining armor."

"Anytime, my lady." I half-bowed, and we both chuckled.

On the way, we stopped at this quaint little diner on the side of the street. Even though we were both still sweaty and had just finished a couple of tough workouts, and even got a weird stare from the waitress and some guests for our sweat-drenched clothes, we sat down and talked like there was no one else in the world to bother us. We talked about politics, sports, my job, her job, working out, traveling . . . pretty much everything. I learned that she was studying to become a school teacher, and she found out that I was a kids counselor and health educator with ambitions to go to professional school. It was great – we automatically hit it off since we both liked working with kids. We ordered blueberry pancakes heaped with maple syrup, which we split between the two of us.

Towards the end of the meal, Ayala told me that she was full and wanted me to finish off the rest of her half of the pancakes. I was pretty full too and told her I couldn't do it. To this, she responded by taking the last bit of pancakes, cutting them into bite-sized portions, placing them on her fork. Before I knew what she was doing, she picked up the fork and put it in front of my mouth. At first, I resisted, but then I eventually melted in the face of her entreaties and another puppy-dog face, and I let her feed me the last few pieces. She made airplane noises as she "flew" the last piece into my mouth, to which we both laughed again. She paid for the meal, saying that it was the least she could do for her "brave hero." I blushed. We had been at the diner for about two hours, eating pancakes and just enjoying each other's company. And honestly, I didn't mind the view from where I was sitting either.

We walked some more, talked and laughed, and finally made it to her apartment doorstep. I couldn't help thinking how cute she looked the entire time in her black sports bra and bright red jacket. She had let down her hair, and it was absolutely beautiful as it cascaded down her neck towards her shoulders.

In front of her elevator, we paused. Again, we stared into each other's eyes. I don't know how many times I had looked at her captivating eyes already tonight, but I just didn't get tired of getting lost in them.

"I guess I had better go," I told her, not wanting to outstay my welcome.

"Yeah," she replied, softly. "I had a great time tonight, Ken. You turned what could have been a really ugly Friday night into a nice time. Thanks, Mister."

"I had a great time too, Ayala."

We hugged, our arms holding each other tight. Neither of us wanted to let go. It was as if we had finally found something that we had been looking for all of our lives, even though there was still so much we didn't know about each other. She rested her head against my neck.

As we slowly withdrew from the embrace, I kissed her lightly on the cheek. She smiled that warm smile of hers again, and entranced me once more with her deep brown eyes. Slowly, she turned away, and stepped into the elevator as it opened.

The doors started closing . . .

Ayala slapped the side of the doors, making them pop open again. She came out, dropped her bag, and threw her arms around me again. This time, our lips met.

It was like a burst of fire. We buried ourselves in each other, and the touch of her lips to mine ignited me with a passion that I had never felt before. I kissed her deeply, our lips pressing tightly together, as tightly as our bodies were embracing one another. Her tongue escaped her lips, and my tongue rushed out to meet hers. They dance playfully in our mouths, as I probed her lips with my tongue, and she soon followed suit with hers. She pulled me back into the elevator, and I had barely had the presence of mind to pull both of our bags in with us. The elevator doors closed on our erupted, passionate embrace.

Ayala reached out with her right hand, as I continued to kiss her against the elevator wall, and blindly tried to press the 9th floor button. Our tongues wrestled as my arms wrapped around her waist, holding her near to me. I felt the heat from her body and she could feel mine. I leaned into her neck and started kissing softly down to her shoulders, and she closed her eyes and rolled her head back against the wall, enjoying the sensations and grasping at my back to keep me close to her. I could feel her heartbeat going faster, faster. Just as mine was.

The elevator opened up on the eight floor. An old woman was waiting there, and looked at us curiously. Ayala opened her eyes as I kissed her passionately on the cheek, then suddenly I realized that she had pulled herself away from me with a sudden and guilty movement.

"Ohh, uh, hi Mrs. Robinson! Uh, I'm just getting back from the gym . . . how are you?" Ayala said, panting.

"I'm fine dear, just leaving after a visit to Arnold. I can see that you're doing quite well also." Mrs. Robinson chuckled.

"Huh? Oh! Sorry, umm, this is Ken. He's a nice guy I met at the gym, he saved me from Greg 'cause he was having another fit," Ayala stammered, turning bright red.

"Uh, hello . . ." I said, sheepishly, as if I had just been caught by her parents or something.

With a knowing smile, Mrs. Robinson replied, "Oh, good for you Ken, it's about time someone stood up to that nasty man. Well . . . I think I will take the next elevator, dear. You two have a wonderful night."

The elevator door closed, saving Ayala and me any further embarrassment.

Ayala sighed. She turned around to look at me, with an expression of this-is-all-your-fault on her face, to which I burst out laughing. "Hey, it's not . . . funny . . ." Ayala could barely say that before she, too, started giggling.

The elevator door opened on the ninth floor. Ayala tried to feign an expression of disappointment, as if I had initiated the passion in the elevator and made her look bad in front of her neighbor Mrs. Robinson, and walked off with her bag and with her nose turned up in faked disgust. "Hmph!" she exclaimed, hardly able to hide the smile peeking out at the corners of her lips. I grinned and grabbed my bag to follow her.

We stepped inside her apartment, and she went to the kitchen after dropping her bag and jacket. "Want anything to drink? Water, juice?" Ayala asked.

"Yeah, I could use some juice actually. Don't worry babe, I'll pour us a couple of glasses." I dropped my bag next to hers in the living room, and followed her slowly into the kitchen.

She pulled out the juice carton and I started to pour a glass for her and for myself. As I stood there at the counter, I felt her hands snake around me, then come up symmetrically under my shirt to my chest, as she gently squeezed my pecs and stroked my chest. I put down the juice carton and leaned my head back, and she nuzzled against my face.

Then, she turned me around with the surprising strength of her arms, and we started kissing again. We couldn't get enough of each other, we had to taste each other's mouths and tongues and lips. I sucked her tongue into my mouth and we played with each other's lips. Ayala ripped off my shirt in the meantime, then pushed me back out into the living room and onto the couch. I was amazed at how strong and aggressive she was, I had never been with a woman that assertive before, and I found myself liking it immensely.
She stripped off her sports bra and straddled me on the couch. I immediately took her right breast in my hand and massaged it while sucking at the nipple, my other hand massaging and caressing her other breast. She moaned and arched her back and pushed into me, grinding against my stomach. It felt . . . different . . . when she was grinding into me . . . I couldn't put my finger on what it was, though.

One of my hands trailed down to her pants, beginning to pull down slowly.

Suddenly, her eyes opened, she batted my hand away, and she backed away off the couch. She looked very anxious, nervous, even fearful.

"What's wrong?" I asked, with a hard-on in my pants that was rather obvious and sort of embarrassing after seeing Ayala's reaction.

Ayala looked at me. She looked so beautiful, in that instant . . . she was so strong, with well defined muscles and amazing breasts and facial features – her whole body was amazing – and in addition to her body, her attitude the whole night had demonstrated a strength of character and of experience that I had never seen before in a person, as if she had been through many hardships already and was toughened by them. But now, she showed a hint of vulnerability. Not fear from mortal harm like the kind she might have experienced from Greg. Rather, it seemed like, she felt that she had done something wrong, that she was about to lose something important to her because she had made a mistake or hurt someone she cared about . . .

She wrapped her arms around herself to cover her nakedness, seeming . . . ashamed? - and turned around. "Ken, I should have never asked you to come here. It was a mistake. I don't want to hurt you, you need to leave, please."

I was confused. And worried. Here was a woman that had made me feel in one night a depth of emotion and sense of caring for another individual that I had never shared with anyone else before in my life. I was so scared, in that moment, of losing her . . . I stood up and walked towards her. She cringed and seemed to shrink away smaller.

"Ayala, what is it? Please tell me! What's going on?"

"Ken, please, I . . . I can't . . . You've got to go . . ."

"I can't just go. Ayala, I can't just leave, not without knowing what's going on, what's got you so scared."

"You wouldn't understand, Ken."

"Try me. I looked into the beautiful eyes of a woman today that stole away my heart and made me feel like I had never felt before, that there was someone out there in the world worth caring for and protecting and being with . . . worth loving . . . even though I hardly knew her. And I thought that I saw that same connection in her eyes. I want you to look at me and tell me that I'm wrong." I put my hand on her arm and gently turned her around.

"No, Ken, please . . ." she started sobbing. My hands rested on her shoulders.

"Ayala, you might be scared right now of something, but I'm even more scared of something else. You know what that is? I'm scared that I might lose you before this even begins. That I've done something to frighten you, or that there's something not worked out between us that won't let this happen. Please, look at me Ayala. Look at me and tell me that you didn't feel the same connection that I did when I saw you for the first time at the gym today," I pleaded.

She looked up into my eyes. "I . . . do . . . feel the same about you Ken. You're right, I've never felt this way about anyone before. I don't know why. And I don't want it to end. But I should have told you something before all of this that would have changed your mind. And now, I'm afraid to tell you. You see, it's the reason why Greg . . ." she sniffed and her words trailed off.

I took her hands. We walked to the couch together, both half naked, both so vulnerable, both so deeply connected.

"Forget about Greg. Forget about anyone or anything else. I promise you, Ayala, no matter what you tell me, I will still feel the same about you. I swear." I ran my fingers through her hair, in effect massaging her head, and she closed her eyes peacefully.

I continued to do so, to try and encourage her. I tried to rest my hand on her thigh, but she pushed it away. So instead, I clasped her hand when she pushed away my touch, and I interlocked our fingers to give her further physical reassurance that I was there with her.

She let me run my hands through her hair and held onto my hand with both of her, eventually resting them on her lap hile holding mine. Her breaths sounded nervous, heavy. I waited for her, looking at her beautiful, but sad face.

After a few moments, she spoke again. "I'm a transsexual, Ken. I look like a woman, but, I'm pre-op; I'm not completely . . . and I should have told you." She kept her eyes closed and had her head slightly bowed, not looking at my response.

Suddenly, so much became clear to me. The reason Greg had called her names. The reason she said that she should have told me earlier. The cracks about the men's locker room by her ex-boyfriend. The feeling of her grinding against me through her sweatpants. Her resistance to removing her clothes.

For a second, I didn't know what to do. This was completely new for me.

My hand stopped moving through her hair. She looked as if she was about to breakdown into sobs again.

I didn't let her. I placed my hands on both sides of her head and turned her to face me. My forehead touched hers . . . my nose rubbed against hers . . . I brushed my lips against hers softly, and then I whispered.

"Ayala, you are a woman. A beautiful, courageous, strong and sensitive woman. And you're the woman I'm falling in love with. Don't you even think that I'm going to stop feeling the way I do. And don't try to kick me out again, unless you really don't want to be with me.

"I'm not sure what will happen next. This is new for me, you see. I'm a little nervous. I'm even a little scared. But you know what? All that doesn't matter if I know that we can face this together. I feel stronger with you, Ayala, and not so alone anymore."

She looked up at me. The tears welled up in both of our eyes. We embraced, and just held each other. Held each other, made each other feel safe and loved, made each other realize that we weren't about to give up on the connection we had found tonight, that our hearts and minds had spoken and our bodies would follow naturally.

"Ken, please . . . stay with me . . . I don't want you to leave. I've had to be strong, by myself, for so long . . . other men have never felt the way you do, and I've always felt so alone . . ."

"You'll never be alone again, Ayala. I think the other men you've dated have all been idiots who don't know what a good person they are shutting out of their lives. I want to be a part of yours." We kissed.

We kissed deeply.

We kissed passionately.

We kissed violently and aggressively, as if we were fighting off the rest of the world and their prejudices, and we kissed and kissed and kissed. I kissed down her neck and between her breasts and all across her body, laying on top of her. I could feel it now. Her hard-on. Unmistakably. But it didn't phase me for an instant.

I pulled off my gym shorts and boxers, and Ayala pulled off her sweatpants and underwear. My cock sprang forth, hard and pulsing . . . so did hers. It was mind boggling, and she hesitated for a second to see the expression on my face.

"Ayala . . . if you tell me that it'll be okay . . . I'll trust you. I just need to hear you say it . . . I'm . . ."

"Ken, baby, come here. It'll be okay. We're together now." Ayala looked me straight in the eyes.

She was rewarded with a look of pure passion as I moved up to kiss her again while we held each other, my legs between hers, her legs wrapping around me.

And then, our cocks touched. It felt like pure electricity when I felt it and realized it. Her hand crept down as I continued to ravage her with kisses, across her face, her shoulders . . . she held our two throbbing members together and started to pump us with her hand. I gasped and my body thrusted in response. It was unbelievable, my reaction - I didn't know I was capable of feeling that way, but the blood and heat rushed throughout my body. She smiled and took the opportunity to kiss my neck and latch onto me like a vampire, sucking so hard at me with her lips, kissing away my last doubts. I arched my back as she had done earlier when I had rolled her nipples around with my tongue.

She pulled me over and onto my back, then snaked down my body, attacking me with her tongue all along the way, and finally reached my own cock. She expertly took it in her mouth, all of it, and began to suck me off with fiery intent. My hands rested on her head, but I didn't push as she knew how to turn me on perfectly, playing with my balls . . . and a new sensation, gently fingering my ass, through the crack, entering my hole ever so gently and slightly, which surprisingly sent shivers of pleasure through my body . . . I rubbed my hands through her hair to encourage her and because she seemed to like me playing with her hair quite a bit. I was about to cum when she seemed to sense it and snaked back up the couch to kiss me again.

I tasted my own precum on her lips . . . I had never tasted it before, it was different, strong, and good. The question entered my mind, ever so fleetingly, of what her cum tasted like . . .

She smiled and with a knowing giggle, snaked up again across my body, pausing to let me suck at her nipples momentarily and play with them, and then sat down softly on my chest with her cock standing erect in front of my lips. I looked at it, then looked at her eyes, not sure if I was ready or even knew what to do.

"Ken, you don't have to if you don't want to . . . but, are you curious? To see what I taste like? Hmmm . . . to see if I taste better than you?" Ayala purred, her confidence restored by my passionate responses up to this point.

And really, it was as if she was reading my thoughts. "Ayala . . . I want to try. Though I don't think I'm very good at it. No experience, you know." She smiled and laughed, and stood up, walking around her living room table with that girly sway in her hips mesmerizing me.

As I looked between her legs more and more, something primal inside me began to awaken and to react.

I never knew that I had it in me to even feel this way, but I think I actually began to . . . crave . . . her cock.

I had never really liked going down on women, it just didn't seem like an attractive idea even though I did it anyway. But Ayala's cock just seemed so . . . majestic . . . strong, powerful, virile . . . yet feminine and soft in a way only a woman could be . . . which also described the look I had found in her eyes from the moment I met her.

Maybe a part of me knew all along, maybe that's why we had instantly felt that connection, back at the gym. Maybe the part of me that was making my heart beat faster at the sight of her cock now was always lying just beneath the surface of my consciousness, and meeting Ayala had begun to trigger something deep inside me. Something that was active now, and gaining force over my body and my sexual drive.

And, for some reason I couldn't understand, I was somehow proud that her cock was bigger than mine. Bigger by at least a couple of inches. I'm not sure why that made me so happy. But man, it did, as if my body knew that I was in for a treat and that my mind was just beginning to realize the same.

She continued to walk around the table, like a lioness in her smooth and soft but deadly and confident movements. She was stalking her prey, knowing that I was completely in her power and she had merely to strike and she would have me. With every step, her cock maintained its rigidity, prominently sticking out from her body, her ample breasts softly bouncing and jutting out from her chest. Ayala - every inch of her, every movement she made - was driving me crazy, and she seemed to know it – she had a look of pleasant surprise as she watched my expression turn from hesitation to curiosity to pure, unbridled lust.

I wanted her cock, and I wanted it right now.

She stepped to the side of the couch, sat down on the armrest, and spread out her legs. "Come here, baby," she cooed.

I was so turned on and hot not having come myself earlier, and I crawled on my knees towards her end of the couch. I licked the very end of her uncut cock with my tongue, my first taste of it.

"Mmmmm," Ayala emitted a soft moan.

I started to take more of her into my mouth, gently, wondering how much I could take without gagging. I wanted to take it all, but my gag reflex kicked in and I couldn't manage it. It felt good to have my lips pursed around it. So good.

I licked around it, licked at her balls, then taking it as deep as I could into my mouth. I wanted more, as if I was hungry for it - again, I was surprised by this feeling welling up from deep inside me, but I didn't fight it. Looking up at Ayala's eyes, I knew that it was okay to embrace it and to obey my desires. My desire to suck her dry and take her wholly into my mouth.

She placed her hands on my head and started to fuck my mouth slowly, rocking back and forth across the armrest of the chair. I couldn't get enough, and managed to get a bit more of her inside my mouth.

"Oh, yeah, Ken, that's soooo gooood . . ." Ayala was breathing heavily. "Don't stop, baby, don't you stop . . ."

I had heard somewhere that it feels good if you hum while doing this, so I started to hum a low pitch as I sucked on Ayala. "Hmmmmm . . ." It had the desired effect. Within a couple of minutes, she began to buck faster and harder into my face – almost harder than I could handle – and I could feel her thick cock hitting the back of my throat. I couldn't believe how great it felt.

She started moaning - "uh, uh, yesss, uhhhh, oh yeah Ken, yeah, uhhhhhhhh!" - and I could feel her about to explode in my mouth. I tasted her cumming in my mouth as she screamed in pleasure and release. I greedily swallowed as much as I could, treasuring every last bit of it, hoping that she had enjoyed her first time fucking my mouth. She did taste better than me. . . .

She pushed me back with her knees and onto my back. We attacked each other again, kissing passionately, unable to stop the enjoyment of our hard, sweaty bodies and rigid cocks rubbing against each other, fingers caressing every inch of our exposed, naked bodies, and tongues exploring each other as if we wanted to leave no secrets revealed in our physicality. Our bodies were covered with sweat - not a new sight to either of us - but so amazingly different this time because it was from a different kind of "workout." I couldn't get enough of grinding my cock up into hers; she seemed to enjoy it too, as her body responded by grinding back. She pressed her breasts against my chest and my hands grabbed at her ass, massaging them and using them to pull her closer to me. I wrapped my legs around hers, just as she had with me moments ago.

"Baby, I can't stand it anymore, please, let me fuck you now and get you off, please!" she begged. She knew she was asking something enormous of me, so she looked at me with pleading eyes.

I was nervous, knowing that I had never had this experience before . . . I sort of froze . . . and looked into her eyes. Her deep brown eyes . . . once again, so reassuring . . . I nodded my head, and said "Let's try, babe."

Ayala smiled softly and left the room. She came back with some lube or vaseline or something, applying it to her cock . . . which to me, looked like a huge monster now as I thought about it entering my body.

As much as I was afraid, an equally large part of me wanted her to fuck me, and it was growing by the minute. I wanted to know how it felt to feel Ayala's strength plunging into my body. I wanted to know how it felt to have her deep inside me. I wanted to know how it felt to have her fill me as I lay myself open and vulnerable, completely trusting, to her.

So I let her spread my legs apart and rest the tip of her member on my ass, between my cheeks. "I'll do it slowly, baby . . . just tell me if you want me to stop. I won't do anything you don't want me to."

"Okay. I'm ready," I told her.

It was hard at first. "Relax, Ken. Just relax. It'll hurt at first . . . but then it'll feel better. And then it'll start to feel really good, baby. Really, really good. Do you trust me?"

"Yes, Ayala, I do."

"Then relax. Just focus on the pleasure. Focus on me."

She looked me straight in the eyes. I returned her gaze. It was reassuring, powerful, and soft all at the same time, and I knew that if we held it, it would be okay . . .

I relaxed and felt her pushing in. Just a little at first, then a bit more, Ayala always waiting for me to get used to her size and allowing my entrance to stretch to fit her. She pushed slowly, making me focus on her eyes, and pushed, inch by inch . . .

The last push came suddenly and painfully, and I cried out.

"Shhhh, baby, shhhhh. You have all of me now." She leaned closer, "You're going to like this."

Ayala pulled out of me, and despite the pain, I felt empty.

Then she pushed in again. This time, she started pumping, slowly. She thrust her cock in and out, slowly. Each time, I could feel her hit the back of my prostrate. It hurt at first, then, like she said, it opened up to waves of pleasure. I closed my eyes and focused on the sensation. How could it feel so good? I was amazed, breathing hard, and feeling pleasure that I had never imagined possible before. But then she stopped again. I opened my eyes and looked up at her, with a look of desire in my eyes.

"Ken, do you want me to keep going?"

I responded by pushing myself towards her and impaling myself with her cock with a moan. "Please . . . don't you stop . . . fuck me, Ayala, you feel so good inside me . . ."

She moaned as she felt herself plunge inside my tight hole. "Mmmmmm, Ken . . . fuck . . . you're such a good boy . . . it feels so good to be inside you too . . ."

She penetrated me deep, and resumed bucking her hips back and forth, back and forth. I rocked back and forth to match her motions, to try and let her inside me as far as possible . . . felt so good with her inside . . . I never could have imagined . . . it was mind-blowing . . .

We matched our rhythm perfectly. The two of us moaned together, her soft girly moans overlapping with my louder throaty moans. "Uh, uh, uhngggg . . ."

I felt my own orgasm approaching its plateau. I didn't know how, as I hadn't touched myself, but I could feel myself ready to erupt. Ayala started pumping furiously and I knew she was at the same point, and we both came within seconds of each other, moaning and screaming in passion . . .

I felt her erupt into me, somewhere deep inside me, and I shot threads of cum across my stomach and chest. She pulled out, slowly and gently, and then collapsed on top of me, both of us completely exhausted and utterly satisfied. Our cum and sweat and saliva mingled between our bodies as we embraced, without a care in the world. I kissed her, and she nuzzled up to me and rested on my shoulder as I wrapped my arms around her.

After fucking me hard and taking me with her dominant streak, she collapsed into me, still the absolutely feminine and passionate woman I had first met, as she cuddled with me on the couch.

We slept there, enjoying each other's warmth and touch all night long and into the late hours of morning the next day. Neither of us made any motion to get off the couch; we both felt so safe in each other's arms, like we had finally both found our way home.

Two lovers had found each other and weren't planning on letting go, now that we were together. Our story was just beginning, and we knew we could face the new day together.

What a Friday night.

That has got to be the greatest story I have ever read. Fantastic.

Very very good. Once again, a great story!

awesome story maybe a sequel?

Sweet story. You should definitely do a sequel.

your stories are awesome

Awesome. Can't wait for chapter 2.