Bar Blond Bombshell: My Raw Night with Epicene Camille

Dim bar lights pulse. Sweat and booze hang heavy. Phone vibrates in my pocket – Grindr notifications from days of endless chats, but eyes lock on the little blond. ‘Who’s he?’ I whisper to Kevin.

‘Huh? Camille. Hermaphrodite type.’

The Approach

‘Epicene name. Boy or girl.’

‘Whatever. Fucked his pussy deep. Above clit? Mini-cock head swells, uncaps itself. Freaky. Parents named him that not knowing.’ Kevin grins, proud.

I skip roasting him. He’s gorgeous paradox – big dick only in pussies, but bends for cock. Fucked his ass doggy once. Frustrating giant.

‘Tell me I’m not dumb.’

‘Don’t lie to friends, Kev.’

‘Asshole.’

‘My hole twitches, but you can’t help.’ He storms off.

Theo the barman? Busy till 6 AM. Same loose asses everywhere.

Where are curious virgins? Lost count since Majorca teens.

Soft voice behind: ‘Excuse, Jérémie? Drink?’

Turn. Blond cutie. Androgynous face, short hair. Cute pout.

The Explosion

‘Kevin.’

‘Camille. Suits you,’ I stammer.

‘Kevin said sweet, attentive. Rare rainbow world.’ Smile disarms. Perfume hits – fresh citrus, intoxicating up close.

Shake head. What bullshit did Kev spill?

‘What to drink? Legal?’

‘No booze. Clear head if not alone tonight. 19. No labels.’ Eyes scan room, sad.

‘Bi here. Pussy smooth, ass rigid.’

‘I do both. Double with endurance guys.’ Whispers, innocent eyes.

Desire spikes. Face hot. Body mystery calls.

‘No brag, endurance king. RedBull?’

‘Body fluid first, but RedBull. Kev said you hard for him.’ Lutin grin.

Phone buzzes ignored. Tension crackles. ‘My place. Now.’ No wasting time. Adrenaline rush. Door slams behind us. Elevator ride: hands roam, breath hot. Citrus mixes sweat. Urgent.