Luxury Cruise: Crewman Serves Two Gorgeous Transsexuals

The penthouse door opened before Fabian’s second knock. He was twenty-eight, a steward in a white shirt and black pants, and this sailing of the Aurora was chartered only for gays, lesbians, and transsexuals. His sheet named two guests, both twenty-four: Veronica and Simone. He had expected sundresses. He got lingerie and stilettos at three in the afternoon.

Veronica filled one side of the frame, dark hair over one shoulder, a black lace bodysuit cut high on the hip, patent heels that made her legs look endless. The lace hid nothing of the heavy shape of her cock. Simone stood at her shoulder in red silk and matching heels, blonde hair pinned, mouth painted, the same swell shifting under thin fabric. Both of them looked him over like something they had already paid for.

“Fabian,” Veronica said. “They told us twenty-eight and eager. Are you?”

“I’m your steward,” he said. His voice held. His cock did not. “Cabin, meals, whatever you need brought up.”

Simone stepped back, heel clicking. “Whatever we need. Say that inside.”

Citrus and perfume met him. Glass ran the length of the sea. He set the folder down and turned, and both women had followed. Veronica’s nails traced his shoulder. He had put his name on this charter the day it was posted. Standing between them, he understood that wanting the job and surviving it were different things.

“You’re staring,” Simone said, pleased. She turned once so the silk slid over her ass and the line of her cock. “Good. We dressed for you. Lingerie, heels, the whole picture. We didn’t book a ship full of our own kind to be polite in bathrobes.”

Veronica leaned in until her breath touched his jaw. She didn’t kiss him. She let the almost-kiss hang there, unfinished and filthy. “Tonight you bring champagne. You stay. We’re going to use that cock you’re hiding, and you’re going to use your mouth on ours. If you can’t live with that, walk out now.”

He looked at her mouth, then Simone’s, then the shapes under lace and silk. “I’m not walking out.”

“Then finish your rounds.” Veronica palmed him once through his pants, a firm squeeze that loosened his knees. “Come back hard. We’ll be worse by dark.”

Simone blew a kiss that never landed. The door shut on two pairs of heels and his pulse. He stood in the corridor with his zipper straining, already counting the hours.

Dusk laid gold across the water when he came back with the ice bucket. He had not touched a drink himself. He wanted his head clear. The door opened on robes this time, thin and open, the same heels underneath. Veronica took the bottle from his hands and set it on the bar without pouring. Simone locked the door.

“Still sober,” Veronica said, reading his face. “Good. We want you sharp. We want you saying yes with your whole mouth.”

“Yes,” Fabian said.

Simone’s fingers walked up his shirt and opened the top button. “We talked about you all afternoon. How thick you’d be. How we’d take turns. I need a hard cock in me, and she needs one to fuck with. Yours does both.”

Veronica came around behind him. Her robe brushed his back. Her hand slid over his hip and cupped him through the wool, slower than before, learning the length. “Feel that,” she murmured at his ear. “Already dripping for two women you just met. We’re going to use you until your legs shake. Mouth, ass, whatever we point at. You can fuck us too. We want that. Say you want it.”

“I want it,” he said. “All of it. I want both of you.”

“Then stay.” Simone’s mouth hovered at his throat, not quite a kiss, just heat and lipstick. “Drop the steward act. You’re off the clock the second those robes hit the floor.”

They stepped back together. The belts loosened. Silk and lace robes slid off their shoulders and pooled at the heels.

Fabian forgot the champagne.

Veronica’s bodysuit was gone underneath. Her body was smooth and tight, breasts full, waist narrow, cock thick and lifting as she watched him watch her. Simone was the same kind of perfect in a different color: golden skin, red heels planted wide, her cock already stiffening against her thigh, balls drawn up, the head shining. They stood in the last light like they had rehearsed it, gorgeous and hard and utterly sure of him.

“Come here,” Veronica said.

He crossed the room. She caught his face and kissed him, open and hungry, tongue sliding against his while Simone pressed in from the side and took his mouth the moment Veronica gave it up. Lipstick smeared. Hands dragged his shirt open, his belt loose, his pants down. His cock sprang free, flushed and wet at the tip, and both of them made the same low sound.

“Fuck, look at him,” Simone said, wrapping a hand around him and stroking once, slow, from base to head. “We’re keeping this.”

Veronica kissed him again, deeper, while her own cock bumped his hip, hot and rigid. Simone kissed the corner of his mouth, then Veronica’s, the three of them breathing into one messy knot of tongues and hands. Fabian groaned into it. Simone’s heel hooked behind his calf. Veronica’s nails raked his ass. Whatever polite edge he’d walked in with burned off between their mouths.

“On your knees,” Veronica said against his lips. “Now.”

He went down on the thick rug between their heels.

The suite lamps were low. Their cocks stood in front of his face, Veronica’s a shade darker and curved, Simone’s straighter, both hard enough to gloss at the tips. They stepped in until he could smell skin and perfume and the clean salt of them. Veronica threaded her fingers into his hair. Simone stroked herself once and tapped the head against his lower lip.

“Open,” Simone said. “Be a good crewman.”

He opened. She slid in over his tongue, heavy and hot, and he sucked her down until his lips met her fingers at the base. She sighed, hips rolling, heels steady. Veronica watched, one hand on Simone’s waist, the other guiding Fabian’s head in a slow rhythm. Spit gathered. He pulled off with a wet sound and turned, taking Veronica next, cheeks hollowing, tongue working the underside while she cursed softly and pushed deeper.

They didn’t make him choose for long. They stood close enough that he could move from one cock to the other, sloppy and eager, strings of spit connecting his mouth to whichever head he left. While he sucked, they kissed above him, open-mouthed, moaning into each other. Veronica’s hand found Simone’s cock when his mouth was on her; Simone stroked Veronica when he switched. Their fists bumped his lips. He licked both shafts in one pass, balls, the sensitive skin underneath, then took Simone again until she hit the back of his throat and held him there, panting.

“God, his mouth,” Simone said. “Veronica, he’s filthy already.”

“He’ll be filthier.” Veronica’s voice had gone rough. She pulled him off Simone and fed him her cock again, fucking his throat in short thrusts while Simone stroked herself against his cheek, smearing wetness on his skin. He gagged once, recovered, and took her deeper, eyes watering, hands braced on their stockinged ankles above the heels. They kept kissing, tongues loud, hands roaming each other’s breasts and cocks, using his mouth like it belonged to the room.

Veronica eased out, shining. “Up. Over the chaise. I want that ass.”

He stripped the rest of the way and bent over the velvet, chest down, knees spread. Simone climbed onto the cushions in front of him, red heels planted on either side of his shoulders, cock angled at his mouth. She held his jaw. “You suck me while she opens you. If it’s too much, you tap my thigh. Otherwise you take it.”

“I want it,” he said, and proved it by swallowing her again.

Veronica’s slick fingers pressed between his cheeks, cool at first, then warm as she worked him open with patient, filthy care. One finger, then two, twisting, stroking the spot that made him moan around Simone’s cock. Simone laughed breathlessly and petted his hair. “Hear that? He’s begging with his throat.”

The fingers left. Veronica’s cock replaced them, the head nudging, pausing. “Yes?”

He pulled off long enough to say, “Yes. Fuck me.”

She pushed in. The stretch burned sweet and huge, inch by inch, until her hips met his ass and she was seated deep. He groaned, stuffed at both ends, Simone filling his mouth while Veronica filled him from behind. Veronica gripped his hips and started to move, long strokes that rocked him forward onto Simone’s cock. Spit-roast, exactly as filthy as it sounded. Heels dug into the chaise. Lace-trimmed thighs framed his face. Veronica’s balls slapped him each time she bottomed out.

“Tight,” Veronica panted. “Fuck, he’s tight. Take her deeper, Fabian. Choke on it while I use this hole.”

He did. Simone held his head and fucked his throat in time with Veronica’s thrusts, not cruel, just greedy, both of them using him and kissing over his back whenever they could reach. Sweat gathered at his spine. The wet sounds filled the suite, cock in throat, cock in ass, three voices breaking.

Veronica pulled out before she came, breathing hard, and slapped his ass once, light and possessive. “Switch. I want his tongue. Simone, ride him. Keep the heels on.”

They moved him onto his back on the wide bed. His cock stood up, angry and leaking. Simone straddled him reverse, facing his feet, red stilettos braced on the mattress. She reached back, lined him up with her ass, and sank down in one slow, shaking slide. Heat clamped around him. He swore. She rolled her hips, hair falling forward, ass spreading over his lap as she took every inch.

“Fuck, yes,” she said. “Stay hard. I’m going to milk you.”

Veronica swung a leg over his chest and settled above his face, knees by his ears, heels still on, cock hanging heavy over his mouth. “Lick,” she ordered. “Balls, shaft, whatever you can reach. And open if I feed you.”

He obeyed. His tongue dragged over her, messy and devoted, while Simone rode him in those heels, ass bouncing, the slap of skin loud. Veronica stroked herself against his lips, then pushed the head into his mouth and rocked, shallow, letting him suck while Simone ground down and gasped. He was pinned under both of them, cock buried in Simone’s ass, mouth full of Veronica, hands gripping Simone’s waist to pull her harder onto him. Sweat shone on all three. Simone’s heels dug little crescents into the sheet.

“Look at him taking it,” Veronica said, fucking his mouth in short pulses. “Our steward. Our hole and our cock.”

Simone sped up, riding him with sharp little circles, her own cock slapping her stomach. “I’m close if I keep this. Not yet. I want him in me from behind after I feel Veronica again. Trade.”

They peeled apart, breathless, cocks shining, his chest heaving. Veronica knelt on the bed and presented her ass, looking back over her shoulder, hair stuck to her neck. “Your turn to fuck. Both of us. Don’t be gentle unless we ask.”

He knelt behind her, slicked himself, and pressed in. She was tight and hot and she pushed back to take him, a broken moan leaving her when he bottomed out. He fucked her in steady strokes, hands on her waist, watching his cock disappear into that perfect ass. Simone knelt beside them and kissed Veronica, then reached under to stroke Veronica’s swinging cock in time with his thrusts.

“Harder,” Veronica said. “Yes. Like that. Use me.”

He gave it to her until her arms shook, then pulled out and turned to Simone, who was already on her elbows, red heels kicked up behind her. He sank into her ass in one push. She cried out, pleased, and reached back to spread herself. He fucked her deeper, faster, the contrast of their bodies dizzying, one then the other, Veronica’s ass, Simone’s ass, both of them begging for it in overlapping voices. When he pulled out of Simone, Veronica grabbed his hip and guided him back into herself. They took turns under him until all three were slick with sweat and the room smelled like sex.

“Spit-roast me,” Simone said, rolling onto her side and then up onto her knees at the edge of the bed. “Fabian in my ass. Veronica in my mouth. I want both.”

They set it. He stood behind her and pushed back into that clutching heat. Veronica knelt in front, fed Simone her cock, and held her hair. Simone moaned around it as Fabian fucked her, the motion driving her forward onto Veronica. Heels scrabbled, then planted. Spit ran down Veronica’s shaft. Fabian watched Simone’s ass take him and watched her throat work, and he had to slow down or finish too soon.

“Now him,” Veronica said, pulling out of Simone’s mouth with a wet pop. “Both of us in that crewman ass. You said you wanted all of it.”

Fabian’s stomach flipped, hot and willing. “Yes. Slow. I want it.”

They laid him on his side, one leg bent high. Veronica entered him first, already knowing the angle, fucking him open again until he was loose and gasping. Simone slicked herself and pressed in alongside, the second head stretching him wider than he thought he could take. He hissed, nodded, said “more,” and she eased in until both cocks were seated in him, thick and throbbing, a true double stretch that blanked his thoughts. They moved carefully, then deeper, grinding together inside him while he stroked his own cock and swore into the pillow.

“Fuck, he’s taking both,” Simone panted. “Look at that greedy hole.”

“Don’t stop,” he got out. “God, don’t stop.”

They fucked him like that until his thighs trembled, then slid free and flipped the shape again. Simone on her back, legs in the air, heels framing his shoulders. He pushed into her ass. Veronica straddled Simone’s chest, facing him, and guided her cock into Simone’s mouth while she leaned forward and kissed Fabian, filthy and open, tasting all three of them. Another spit-roast, Simone in the middle now, stuffed and moaning, her cock trapped and jerking against Veronica’s thigh. Fabian drove into her. Veronica fucked her throat. The bed knocked the wall in a steady beat.

Veronica pulled out of Simone’s mouth, swung around, and pressed her cock against Fabian’s where he was buried in Simone. “Let me in with you.”

Simone nodded, wild-eyed, still consenting in a wrecked voice. “Yes. Both. Stretch me.”

It took patience and more slick and Simone’s hand on his hip telling him when. Then Veronica’s cock slid in beside his, both of them inside Simone’s ass, the clutch of her almost too much to move in. They managed short, grinding thrusts. Simone sobbed with pleasure, stroking herself hard, heels locked behind Fabian’s back. Double penetration, sweat dripping off his chest onto her stomach, Veronica cursing against his shoulder. The three of them locked together, shaking, too close to stop.

“I’m coming,” Simone gasped. “Don’t pull out. Fuck—”

She came first, cock spurting over her own stomach and Veronica’s wrist, ass clamping down so hard both of them groaned. The squeeze dragged Fabian over. He buried himself and came deep in her, pulse after pulse, while Veronica kept grinding and then yanked free at the last second to stripe Simone’s chest and Fabian’s stomach with thick ropes, moaning through her teeth. They didn’t separate cleanly. Veronica pushed back into Fabian’s ass for a few desperate strokes and finished the rest of her orgasm there, pumping what was left into him while he was still twitching inside Simone. Three wrecked, overlapping climaxes, the suite loud with it, heels and hands and sweat everywhere.

They collapsed in a heap of limbs and cooling cum, breathing like they’d run the length of the ship.

No one got tender about it. Veronica grabbed his jaw and kissed him hard, tongue filthy with the taste of all of them, and Simone shoved in to lick the mess off his mouth and Veronica’s, a long, wet, three-way kiss that was mostly spit and groaning. They stumbled into the marble shower still half-hard, water slamming down, and didn’t bother pretending it was aftercare. Simone dropped to her knees on the tile in her soaked heels—she had refused to take them off—and sucked Fabian clean while Veronica fingered his used ass and laughed when he jolted. He soaped Veronica’s cock and sucked the suds off until she slapped his cheek with it, playful and mean, and told him to swallow whatever he found. He did.

Simone stood, water streaming off her, and shoved her phone into his wet hand. “Number. Both of ours. You’re our steward for the rest of this cruise, and you’re our fuck for every night we snap our fingers. Text us when your shift ends tomorrow. We’ll be in these heels and nothing else.”

He typed, thumbs slipping, cock already thickening again under the spray. Veronica pressed her chest to his back and spoke against his ear, low and certain. “And if you show up soft, we’ll bend you over that balcony rail and take turns until you remember who this hole belongs to.”

He sent the text, turned, and dropped to the wet tile between them, mouth open, water running down his face. “Then use me again before the hot water dies.”

Simone fed him her cock to the root while Veronica lined up behind him, heel braced on the tile, and pushed back into his sore, willing ass. “That’s our good little crewman,” Veronica growled, starting to fuck. “Stay on your knees and take every inch until we pump you full again.”