the third sex

My ladyboy model produced from below her dress what appeared to be a rather disappointing cock, a small and floppy one, and began pulling on it. I really didn’t hold out much hope that it would do anything. But then to my great surprise it suddenly stood out long and straight, a very impressive and beautiful tool indeed. The best I’ve seen in the past few weeks.

Next ladyboy into the room (I often do two shoots back-to-back) also produced a fairly unimpressive specimen. Until she began wanking, when it came up big and hard and the head of it turned a bright red. A lovely sight.

The beauty of the penis is something I have gone on about many times (many times!) before on this blog, and even now after seeing heaven knows how many in all their various shapes, colours, sizes and stages of arousal, I still wait with breathless excitement to see the next one. Yet these are all ladyboy cocks. Not guys. It takes the aura of a girl coupled with a cock to do it for me. Not the male aura.

Something very funny happened during the week. I was with a genetic girl, a very good friend, and we had met up during the early evening to have some food. She arrived looking very indignant. She explained that on her way, she had walked past a bus stop where there was a solitary male, a company messenger, who was sitting on the bench giving himself a hand-job. Completely alone, cock out, oblivious to the rest of the world, and obviously enjoying himself, as my friend dryly put it.

I asked if he looked a bit simple-minded. You do find a number of disturbed individuals wandering around Bangkok, sleeping in bus shelters, under footbridges and in doorways, and occasionally doing some distinctly unsavoury things.

No, she said, he was dressed in a smart messenger uniform with the company logo on the back. She had been so indignant she had walked over to a nearby motorcycle taxi rank and told one of the drivers, who had gone to sort out the happy wanker at the bus stop.

As she was telling me the story, I was checking out my own reactions. I found the story genuinely funny, my friend’s own purse-lipped reactions being part of the comic effect. Then there was the word she had used for masturbation when she spoke to the motorcycle taxi driver: “chuk wow”, Thai slang for wank, and which actually means “fly a kite.” She said she didn’t think the driver would understand anything else.

But, even though I came close to tears of laughter, my own underlying feeling was one of repugnance. No, I would not have been in the slightest bit interested in catching a glimpse of the messenger’s cock, or of watching him come to a satisfactory conclusion and spurting all over his nice uniform trousers. No, I would not have felt the slightest inclination to go and give him a hand. The very thought gave me a queasy feeling.

How very different when I go into a bar like Casanova or Pinocchio, where there is decent seating, and admire the cock that one of the more obliging ladyboys will produce while I sit there. How very different when a ladyboy lays on my bed or sofa and gives herself a hand job. How very different when I myself take hold of her dick. Is it just the makeup that does it for me? The female clothing? No, it’s more than that. It’s putting a cock onto a girl. One of the ultimate fantasies.