I brought Thomas home, and we made love on a bean bag where I shaped my body lying on my front like an arch with my damp slit pointed high for him to plow his cock in and out of.
When he clawed my ass cheeks wide open and crammed his cock, balls deep inside my fuck hole, cumming hard, I bit down on the bag filling, screaming in ecstasy.
Thomas slumped over sideways and panted like a sprinter crossing the finishing line, grinning and spluttering unintelligibly while I scampered away to the toilet.
At the door of my bathroom, I spun quickly and saw something odd. Thomas was shuttering, like a smudged image shown through Venetian blinds. He shimmered, then steadied and smiled at me, waving confidently.
But it was too late - I’d seen and knew what he was.
When I returned with a duvet, I tossed it over my boyfriend, saying nothing about his apparitional appearance. Thomas lovingly hauled me into his arms while I wrapped us up warm.
“This is a wonderful home, Unseen.”
“I share the warehouse below with my friend Sissitrix. You’ll meet them tomorrow.”
“What is Sissitrix like?”
“Friendly, kind and very noir.”
“Noir?“
“Quite genius in design and creation. A little fatalistic and very pragmatic. Sissitrix is a person, and an ambiguous metaphor, an enigma, with a single-minded focus on how to improve the art of pleasure and the pleasure of art.”
“They seem mysterious.”
“Sissitrix is a person tattooed from the inside.”
“I shall look forward to meeting her.”
“I never said Sissitrix was a girl.”
“Is he a boy?”
“I never said that either.”
“What are they?”
“They are Sissitrix.”
I felt slightly irked that he’d tried to categorize my best friend and business partner. Sissitrix was nuanced, and I liked that about them.