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The sex life of a hot, sexy cowgirl.

Passion with Abigail had stirred in his breasts and made his nipples tighten, but the pure lines of his face were virgin-like and his eyes were innocent.

Wendy felt no bitterness toward him. He was forever sweet and friendly - little more than a mischievous hob-goblin really, and he admired Poppy's unflappable tranquillity and his ability to cocoon himself from the kind of emotions that tortured people like himself. How nice to have a nature like his. If he had disappointments or hard knocks he didn't seem to feel them much. He was always smiling and he never took any of his sexual partners seriously. Flighty he may be, but he was never fooled by the illusions of a relationship. His only consideration was to extract pleasure from a situation before it faded.

As he watched, Poppy rolled onto his back and pushed himself up on his elbows, quite unashamed of his nudity and unconcerned that his enormous penis was noticeably turgid and moist. "Wendeee, d'yu wanna toss me off?" The sissy's voice carried a musical lilt and his playful eyes, his shameless smirk, his wondrous bare body, all tantalised.

Sulkily Wendy shook his head. "No, I don't."

"Wanna watch while I do it for myself?"


A few moments of silence followed, before Poppy bleated again. "Wendeee, I'm feeling neglected. Come and sit with me."

Wendy wasn't fooled by the sissy's precious little girl voice. He knew Poppy well enough to know he wasn't being invited to a platonic get together. But then he thought, what the hell, why not?

He rose up and went down the room to join him. Although Poppy's good looks gave him vanity they never made him unapproachable. "Sorry I had to be a killjoy just now with you and Abigail."

The other boy regarded him with an unconcerned smile. "You could have managed it better. You could have waited 'til Abigail had finished. He was really going strong and he only needed another minute." He squirmed suggestively on the bed covers, then added, "I say, your folks live in Arabland, don't they?"

"They live in the Gulf States, I suppose they're Arab lands."

"Arabs have sultan's, don't they?"

"No, not usually. More often they have sheikhs."

"I bet sheikhs are like sultans. I bet they have great big harems of pretty sissy-boys."

Wendy sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked Poppy's flushed cheek with one hand while the other caressed his she-boy breasts, squeezing the nipples between his fingers until they grew firm. At once Poppy's lips parted as he looped his arms around his neck and drew him down. Showing not the least hint of guilt at betraying Abigail they shared a warm, lingering sissy-kiss.

Open-mouthed, jaws shunting in unison, their tongues stroked against each others teeth and gums before rolling together in a wet, sexy joust. Poppy's mouth tasted good, clean and pampered.

Nipples next, thought Wendy. Poppy was not quite flat-chested and he had a slight plumpness in the region of his nipples. Wendy pushed him down and pressed against him, kissing his neck, then his upper chest, then trailing kisses to his left nipple. It was delightfully puffy, slightly pink and extraordinarily beautiful, and the erect little teat had the texture of a pencil-eraser. When his mouth closed down on it and he sucked Poppy whimpered with pleasure.

There was no reason for it but sexual gratification, and perhaps for Wendy a small way of spiting Abigail for the neglect he felt. After feasting on both sissy nipples he rose up and kissed Poppy's forehead and his face, then took his lips in his mouth and kissed and bit them softly while his hands stroked up and down the boy's naked body, running his hands everywhere as if exploring the structure of muscles and bones beneath the skin. The flesh was warm, the texture of skin like satin, and the taste of him was of honey-soaked roses. No wonder Poppy was such a favourite with everyone, he was gorgeous.

Eventually his hand ventured down onto Poppy's coltish thighs and encircled his penis and he teased him unde

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