I could see no trace of a man in it so I gently kissed her lips again and the fire started in both of us."Got any lube?" I asked.She rummaged through ...er a shoulder bag hanging on a chair and produced a bottle of lube. She once again dropped to her knees and spent a great deal of time covering my shaft with the slippery liquid. I noticed that my cock did not wilt at her confession of being male. If anything, it became harder.There was no inner discussion that I might be gay. I was just. That was the problem. What did sex have to do with love? It was just need. What I was feeling was a different kind of need, something beyond the physical. It was frightening. Intoxicating, even. It felt a little like how I felt when I got high, which scared me at first, and then, made me wonder. I kissed her then, thinking that would heighten the sensation, disappointed when she pulled back, her dark eyes serious in the soft light of the bedside lamp she’d left on at my request, embarrassed at. More

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