Notes: This is a work of fiction. I hope I tagged this correctly. I would have posted it on sexystories, but it’s dead now.
The cruisers know who I am. I know who they are. We never exchange names or personal details, and if I recognize them from the news, I don’t mention it. Cruising operates on anonymity.
Some guys get hookups just from going to parks or public bathrooms. There are codes people can use to indicate interest. I don’t like doing that sort of stuff, so I stick to apps. I’ve got two neck-to-knees photos on there. Most people hide their faces, especially the conservatives.
You’d be amazed how many people can talk about traditional family values by day and get their dicks sucked by strange men at night. There are probably a lot of reasons for that. I haven’t asked them. It’s not my business.
The conservatives are my favourite guys to cruise for. They tend to keep things quiet. A lot of them pretend I’m not who I say I am, but calling a bucket a bathtub doesn’t stop it from being a bucket. I know the truth, and that’s what makes it fun.
Hm. I guess I can tell a story about one of my hookups. I’ll change enough of the details so that I don’t violate my NDA. This is probably the juiciest story in the city, maybe even in the state.
The beginning isn’t that special. I start talking with this older guy. Mid-sixties, I figure from his pictures. I get a distinct sense that he’s repressing something from the get-go. He says he worked in business for a while, but now he’s a politician. I tell him I work in journalism. He says he’s had a few hookups before, and that I look cute. He actually gets my permission before sending a dick pic, which I always love to see.
While I do like the main feature, I like looking at the background too. I recognize some of it. It’s taken in the state office. Daring.
I flirt with him for several days. He likes to ask me questions about my body. I tell him the kinds of things he wants to know. He’s got experience with this.
After a while, he invites me to his office. He tells me to say that I have a meeting with him after hours. His security guards will let me right in. On my drive over, I listen to the radio. He is talking about how important the traditional family unit is. Of course, we all know that a traditional family is a man, his wife, and his transgender fuck boy.
I feel punchy by the time I arrive at his office. I tell the guards that I’m here for a meeting, and they exchange a tired look. He’s done this before, and they know. I stop by the bathroom to clubs myself up, knowing how these tend to go.
When I arrive in his office, I take off my suit jacket. He looks at me with raised eyebrows before flipping over the photographs on his desk. I assume they’re photos of his wife and family. I smile casually and put my jacket on the chair for visitors.
He adjusts himself. His tongue darts across his lips. His eyes slowly travel up and down my body.
“Have trouble parking?” His voice is rougher than I expected. Maybe he talked too much today.
“No. There was space at the back of the lot. It’s a rental. Nobody will know I was here.” I maintain my cool.
“Good. Have a seat.”
I do so, and he immediately grabs me. Cruisers are goal-oriented. They’re here to get off quick. We find our way into each other’s pants. He takes mine off.
“I’m going to have fun playing with this.” He reaches into his wallet for a condom.
And that’s when I can’t keep my dumb mouth shut. “I thought that the point of sex was procreation.”
“Unless the participants involved can’t get pregnant.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“What is this?” He asks.
“A test. What do you really think, sir? I’ll keep quiet no matter what.”
He takes a deep breath, but the unspoken offer excites him. “You know I can’t say.”
“I never said you had to.”
He drops the condom like it burns him and grabs my hips. He pushes himself in. His breath hitches. “How do you like that?”
“Already so hard,” I say because he is.
“I might knock you up. Fill you up and give you a baby.”
“Oh, I would love that.”
“You’d be huge.”
“I know.”
“If you told a soul, I would sue you.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
“But I… I’d take care of both of you. A lot of–”
“Shut up.” I kiss him. The details don’t matter. Besides, he’s old. The odds are not high. It’s a gamble that I am willing to make.
His hips move in firm, driving strokes, and I hold onto him. Individual comfort doesn’t matter. As long as we get off, I’ve done what I came here to do. He breaks the kiss to get some more air, but when he tries to speak, I duck back in. Someone might hear us.
He shuts his eyes tight. A moment later, I feel it. He fills me. We take a second to breathe, looking at each other’s sweaty faces. Then, it’s time to get dressed in silence and walk out like nothing happened.
But something did happen. Not that I mind. I’ve always thought it’d be nice to raise a kid. Took me almost two months to clue into what was going on. He set me up with yearly payments so I didn’t have to worry too much about hospital or child care bills.
I had to take a break from cruising for a little while, but the kid goes into kindergarten this September, so I’ve been out from time to time.
The boy is as smart as his fathers are. He asks all sorts of questions. Some day, he’ll figure out who made him. That’s something I don’t want to tell him. Once he knows, he’ll know without question.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/wnja96/without_question_mmtransmanstrangershookupsmpreg