It was an hour and a half later, nine-thirty at night, and the quiet not-quite party had been wrapped up. Ezra's parents had headed home and Ezra himself had decided to stay, after little-to-no encouragement. He seemed to have some other reason for wanting to stay other than wanting to spend time together, but Marco had no idea what it was.

Marco's sister had retired to her room, and their parents were sound asleep, their not-so-light snoring rumbling through the walls. They'd done admirably, but the jetlag had hit them hard and they were out completely.

Marco was perched on the end of his new queen-sized bed, Ezra beside him, and was looking over the dildo of Ezra's dong more closely, marvelling at how the sculpt had been able to capture every little detail – the small vein popping out above the medial ring, the little ripples beneath the flare. Yeah, this had been an expensive one.

Ezra, for his part, was just watching him, enjoying the companionable silence and feeling of warmth emmenating from the both of them. They didn't need to say anything to one another to feel their love and friendship. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the girl's shirt and skirt Irine had gotten Marco as a joke, still lying on the floor where they'd fallen from his grip earlier. He stood up and trotted over to retrieve them.

“You know, after all said and done” he said, holding the shirt in one hand and the skirt in the other, “I bet you'd look real cute in these.”

“I'm not wearing girlie clothes,” said Marco, placing the dildo on the bed beside him and looking distastefully at the garments Ezra was holding, “I'm not THAT desperate to commit to being a full-on girl.”

“Please?” Ezra put on an attempt at puppy dog eyes, “Just for a little bit, just for me? I won't tell anyone.”

Marco glared at him. However, despite his distaste for the situation, he decided to oblige. Ezra had said he didn't owe him for the expensive gifts and deep tonguing he'd received earlier, but he still had a nagging feeling that he owed him. It was just his nature. He stood up and marched over to Ezra, snatching the pink shirt and white skirt from him.

“Fine,” he snapped, “But I'm holding you up on that part where you don't tell anyone.”

Ezra put his hands up in surrender. “Cross my heart, hope to die,” he said sincerely.

Marco didn't want to be seen in these clothes by anyone – they were just a sick joke from his sister. So, to force some courage into himself to actually follow through with it, he opened his wardrobe, turned on the light and shut the door behind him. He was getting changed in private dammit, no one would see him get INTO the clothes.

There were a few minutes of nothing. Ezra walked over to the wardrobe door and gently knocked.

“You okay in there?” he asked quietly.

“I feel stupid,” replied Marco, “The colours don't work against my scales.”

“I'm opening the door, okay? Don't freak out too much.”

Ezra carefully and slowly opened the wardrobe door. When he saw Marco, his rod instantly hardened, a fact that did not go unnoticed by the blushing iguana, who rolled his eyes and scoffed when he noticed it beginning to tent.

Marco was indeed, a pretty little 'Perfect Princess', at least in Ezra's eyes. The pink shirt made his lightly toned torso look astonishingly feminine, and the white skirt over his white briefs made his twinkie hips pop out like an actual girl's.

“Aw, you look so precious!” exclaimed Ezra, clasping his hands together against his cheek. He was being genuine, which Marco also noticed.

“No, don't like it!” he groaned, “I don't want to wear it! The pink clashes against my green scales, and the white makes my ass look fat!”

“Correction,” said Ezra, “The pink makes you look like a scaly marshmellow I could just eat up, and the white makes you look HOT!”

Resigned to the fact that Ezra was enjoying what he was seeing (the massive tent in his pants spoke a million more words than his mouth), Marco stepped out of the wardrobe and stood near the bed, trying to be as small as possible.

“Please don't get used to it,” he said, “I'm not the type to crossdress; I'm really, REALLY uncomfortable at the moment.”

Realizing that Marco wasn't just putting on an act of shy uncomfortableness, Ezra moved to him and gave him a hug, rubbing his back. Despite himself, Marco made a small squeak when he felt Ezra's clothed hard-on rubbed against his barely-covered-by-the-skirt briefs.

“Hey, it's okay,” said Ezra soothingly, “I'm sorry, I thought you were putting on an act. You don't need to keep the girl clothes on if you feel that bad about them.”

Marco made up his mind during that moment. He would allow Ezra this once, only tonight, and then he'd leave the princess shirt and cheerleader skirt forgotten at the back of his wardrobe.

“I will take them off,” he said, reaching into Ezra's pants and gently stroking his shaft, “after I've let you have a bit of play. You said I don't owe you, but, I still feel like I do. Consider this – fucking a sweet little princess – to be your payment.”

“Wait a sec, Marco,” Ezra pulled back from Marco and looked him square in the eyes, “Are you sure? I honestly don't mind if you'd rather take them off.”

Marco allowed himself a grin. That smile on his blushing face made Ezra want him even more. “After tonight, I won't be wearing these,” he said, “but tonight, I will... and,” he stopped Ezra from pulling away to retrieve a condom from the hidden cubbey-hole in the wardrobe, “I want to feel you as you.”

“How do you mean?” Ezra was confused by that statement.

“Without that little latex film known as a condom enveloping you,” replied Marco.

“But... what about pregnancy and all that? We still don't know if you can become pregnant, and I don't want to saddle you with a kid when you're not ready!”

“Fuck it,” said Marco, “I'm big enough and ugly enough to make my own decisions, and I say: forget the condom. It's been several months now, and all I want is to know what you feel like without latex covering you up... that is, I suppose, if that's what you want as well.”

“You have no idea how much I want it,” said Ezra, carressing Marco's face affectionately, “But my parents would kill me if I got you knocked up barely two hours after they left me alone with you.”

“You've been alone with me plenty of times these past few months,” said Marco as he pulled off his briefs, his dignity plainly visible beneath the tiny skirt, “They know full well what we've been up to. Now,” he leant back and allowed himself to fall onto his back on the end of the bed, waving his tail in a 'come here' motion and his hands coyly behind his head, “lube up, and do or don't put on a condom. Your princess wants you.”

Those feminine yet manly curves, the manly toned but girly chest... Ezra could feel himself flaring up. He pulled off his jeans but left on his boxers, undoing the button so his manhood could flop out. Marco was fully clothed, minus underwear, and Ezra wanted to be just as clothed (but minus pants rather than undies, in his case). A little lathering of lube from Irine's joke gift later, and Ezra was on top of his twink princess, a long, loving smooch connecting them as Marco's tail played with Ezra's and Ezra's warm shaft was sandwiched between them.

When Ezra lifted himself up to aim into Marco's fanny, he could see the wet spot where the lube had left a wide, wet stain along that precious white skirt and pink shirt. Guiding himself in was easy these days – playtime was at least once a week after all. And just as always, Marco gasped at Ezra's sheer size and Ezra was surprised by how tight Marco was. Some feelings never changed.

But today, without a condom on, they could feel each other more cleanly, and it set both of their worlds alight. Marco could feel those tiny ripples underneath Ezra's flare, he could feel those little veins around the medial ring. Regarding Ezra, he could feel every single one of Marco's internal dimples, bumps, and rings and by god, he was closing in on the edge fast.

Little did he know, so was Marco – faster than he was, even. Feeling every subtle thing about that thick, prodding cock was simply too much. Riding Ezra with a condom was unspeakably amazing... without a condom it was blissful heaven. He squirted, some juices spraying out onto the edge of the duvet and across the carpet.

“Whoops,” he moaned at length, racked by the usual powerful feelings of orgasm and Ezra's continuing pounding, “I hadn't thought of that.”

And then, with a colossal 'oh!', the telltale, massive thrusts signalled Ezra's ejaculation. The stallion's warm seed filling him up made Marco gasp. So THAT'S what that felt like. He could also feel, despite Ezra still being balls-deep inside, that he was overflowing. He felt some of it leave him and trickle down the skirt and his tail before splatting against the carpet.

“You... hadn't thought of that either?” gasped Ezra, refusing to budge. He knew he had cum a lot and he didn't want to make too much more of a mess, seeing as how some of both his and Marco's juices had already splattered against the floor.

“No, I hadn't,” Marco was lost in bliss, his voice barely a gasped whisper, “But it was worth it.”

He pulled Ezra into a kiss. For a few minutes, that's all that happened – a kiss interspersed with the two of them catching their breath from the intense ride, small dribbles more of Ezra's splooge leaking out of Marco's pussy around Ezra's still-inside cock. Then, Ezra spoke.

“You know, Marco,” he said dreamily, “I actually have one more gift for you.”

Marco groaned. “Take it and get your money back,” he said, “You've given me too much already.”

“This isn't really a gift I can just take back,” replied Ezra, picking Marco up so that his cock wouldn't leave him and cause a mess. He haphazardly carried the squirming iguana over to the computer desk and sat down in the chair. He then reached over to his plastic bag of things he'd brought with him, which was sitting beside Marco's laptop. Thank goodness he hadn't put his bag on the floor – that would've made this very tricky.

He pulled out his spare jeans and placed them on the desk where he could easily reach into the pockets.

“I've kept this one hidden from everyone,” said Ezra, gazing deep into Marco's eyes, “I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up for it, if you're not interested. You know that I love you, with all my heart, don't you?”

Marco nodded in confusion, not sure where this was going. Here Ezra was, pulling out pants and asking if he knew how much he loved him... where was it going? Of course he knew how much Ezra loved him – the feelings were mutual. Then, the answer became clear, and Marco was sat there, in girl's clothes, upon his love's penis, gawking in bewildered astonishment.

From one of the pockets, Ezra produced a small, fuzzy black jewelery box and opened it, revealing a simple silver band with a thin golden strip running along its circumference and a ruby smack-dab in the centre, a small emerald on each side of it.

“Marco Runil,” said Ezra warmly, affectionately and confidently, “will you marry me?”