Her name was Samantha, but everyone called her Sam. She was a petite, preoperative trans girl, slightly older than I was. After weeks of flirtatious online chats and photo exchanges, she invited me over to her apartment one Saturday evening. I dressed in my favorite pair of jeans, sans underwear for a touch of daring, and rode my motorcycle to her place in the city.

As I arrived, the apartment was dimly lit, setting a sensual mood. It was one of those open plan apartments with only one room, the bedroom, lounge and kitchen all sharing the same area. Sam excitedly welcomed me in, wearing a stunning skimpy pink dress that hugged her body, and I could just make out her sexy black lingerie beneath. The mood was a mix of sexual excitement and tension as we sat on the couch together. She wasted no time in unzipping my jeans, letting out a gasp of pleasure when she found me without underwear.

With a wicked grin, she knelt down in front of me and took my already semi rigid shaft into her mouth, sucking gently around the head. Her skilled tongue sent waves of pleasure surging through my body as she worked my rapidly hardening member. She continued to deliver a master class in fellatio, alternating between sliding my cock deep into her throat and concentrating her efforts around my sensitive head for about 10-15 minutes.