All That Matters

It felt to him as if he were being wrung out inside, and an intense tickling sensation flooded his loins. He cried out, nearly howling, as jet after thick, warm jet of his thick, viscid semen launched from his convulsive cock, inundating Violet's bowels. He drove as far forward, into her rectum, as he could, crushing her buttocks flat beneath his pubes, as he vented his passion, along with his seed. Clutching Violet tightly around the hips, he focused upon the agonizing ecstasy of the orgasm that swept through him and upon the quick, spurting ejaculations of his sperm deep into the interior of Violet's ass.

In the paroxysms of orgasm, it did not matter to him that Violet was not a woman whose womanhood he could deny; it did not matter to him that she was a shemale; there was, after all, no gender in an orgasm. Gripped in the passion of sexual release, he cared not a whit that his lover was both male and female while being neither. All he knew was that it felt wonderful to be launching his seed deep, deep inside his lover, into the most intimate and innermost depths of her-and his own-being. All that mattered to him now was that he loved Violet, completely and ardently, with all the strength of his body, mind, and soul.