Holly, Tiffani and Me                by: Kimberli Nicole McCarthy

 

"Staying home, playing Pictionary and eating home made appetizers while we watch Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Year’s Eve is not my idea of a good time!"

"Well then Mike, you can either keep bitching about it or think of something better for us to do."

"Dude, we gotta hit the town, get our drink on, and pick up a couple of sweet ass honeys."

"I agree," I argued, "but it’s December 28, we haven’t thought of anything cool to do yet, and all the best New Year’s parties have been sold out for weeks. So unless we think of something pronto, it’s me you and Dick."

"Listen Charlie, don’t take this the wrong way, but you are the LAST person on earth I want to share my New Year’s kiss with."

"Dude, first of all, sarcasm isn’t going to help us right now, and second of all, just because we’ve been friends for the entire twenty two years of our sorry existences doesn’t mean I’m gonna get homo with you all of the sudden. You’re way too ugly. Anyway, do you really think I want to sit around all night hanging out with your lame ass? I’m just saying that as usual, our procrastination is coming back to bite us right on the wazoo."

"Excuse me boys," said Kristin walking into the room and butting into our conversation as usual, "I couldn’t help but overhear that my brother and his best friend are once again looking to dweeb out rather than seek out a social life."

"Eat shit Kristin," was my response, but Michael, who’s always had a crush on my sister, chose the more diplomatic route.

"Good afternoon my sweet princess, " Michael said, getting to his feet and bowing, "how will you and your fine lookin’ friends be spending New Year’s?"

"Funny you should ask," said Kristin, "we’ll be attending the social event of the season."

"You mean you’re going to be watching Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Year’s Eve with me and Mike?" I asked.

"No stupid, we’re going to the Millenium Masquerade Ball at the Wellington Manor," bragged Kristin, "I’m dressing as Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s."

"Oh that’s awesome!" said Mike, "I wish I could be there."

"Well Mike, it just so happens that I have two extra tickets, and because you so dashingly referred to me as your sweet princess, I may just be willing to give them to you and my dorkhead brother."

"Thanks for nothin’ Sis," I said, "because I wouldn’t go to your corny Millenium Masquerade anyway."

"WHAT?!?!" proclaimed Michael, "Listen up Charlie, we’ve just been given a gift from the heavens, and I’m not turning it down, we are going!"

"But we don’t have costumes," I argued, "and there’s no time to whip any together."

"Baloney," cried Kristin, "you can use your Halloween costumes."

"She’s right," said Mike, "I’ll just use my Superman costume. And you can use the same one you used…oh that’s right…" he said, looking to Kristin, "Charlie didn’t dress for Halloween this year, he’s way too cool for that."

"Damn right," I said, "22 is too old to be wearing kids’ costumes. I’ll go, but I’m not wearing any costume."

"You have to wear a costume," said Kristin, "you’re not allowed in without one."

"Fine" I said smiling, "if you’re going as Holly Golightly, then I’ll be George Peppard. All I have to wear is a suit and I’ll be all set."

"Alright loser," she said, "if you want to be a stick in the mud your whole life that’s fine by me, but you’re not ruining mine or Mike’s good time. So while George Peppard broods in the corner, Superman, Holly Golightly and her merry band of friends will be whooping it up."

"Fine."

 

* * * *

Mike was thrilled with our decision to go to the party, and couldn’t stop talking about how good he looks in his Superman costume and how it was a surefire way to get laid. I was decidedly less optimistic about my own prospects. I am far less skilled in the art of picking up girls than Michael. In many respects I am the opposite of Michael, who is the tall, handsome, athletic, go-getter type. I can best be described as small, shy, reserved. In the rare instances that I do get action, it is usually the homely friend of the girl that Mike goes after. In Michael’s words, I’m good at "taking one for the team"

And so it is with little excitement that I approach the Millenium Masquerade. Dressing in some stupid costume, getting shoved around all night in a hot, sweaty crowd and waiting a half and hour to get a drink is not my idea of a great time. On the other hand, Mike and Kristin are totally pumped up about it, and Kristin will be bringing her gang of friends, who are all pretty hot. I guess it won’t be too bad.

* * * *

"Yes Mike, for the eightieth time, you look like a stud in the Superman suit."

"Seriously dude, tell me the truth, do you think this will get me laid?"

"I guarantee it!"

I wasn’t lying. With his dark brown hair and blue eyes, Mike looked every bit the part of Superman. Not to mention the fact that with the tights as tight as they were, you could tell Mike was in good shape.

"Now will you take the damn thing off already!" I commanded, "the party’s not for another two days."

"That’s cool," said Michael, "but if it’s all the same to you, I’ll just keep it on. Where’s Kristin, I want her to see me in it. KRISTIN!!! HEY KRISTIN!!! COME HERE AND LAY YOUR EYES UPON THE MAN OF STEEL"

We could hear Kristin laugh upstairs in reply. We could also hear her jump off her bed and run to the stairs. Then we could hear what we later determined was the sound of her tripping over the laundry basket that had been placed at the top of the stairs, followed by five or six thick thuds and cries of pain.

Sprinting to the foot of the stairs, Michael and I were met by a purple-faced Kristin, clutching what appeared to be a horribly contorted ankle.

Superman quickly sprung to the rescue, wrapping one of the freshly cleaned towels that made the fall with her around her ankle and ordering me to call 911.

* * * *

"Kristin, tell me the truth, do I look hot in this suit or what?"

"Michael," said Kristin, "if I could walk I would jump your bones."

"That’s what I like to hear!"

"Mike," I said, "for the love of God, would you take the suit off! The party’s not for another three hours."

"Dude, it’s not my fault if you can’t handle my superhumanity. Just because you don’t feel comfortable walking around in your George Peppard costume doesn’t mean that I can’t enjoy being the Man of Steel."

"Wait a minute," said Kristin, "you’re not still planning on being George Peppard?"

"Of course I am, why not?"

"Because you don’t have a Holly Golightly!!!"

"She’s right" said Mike.

"Big deal, then I’ll be George Peppard in the A-Team rather than George Peppard in Breakfast at Tiffany’s."

"What kind of a Jackass are you?" asked Mike, "how are you gonna do that, who’s gonna know you’re Hannibal if you have no B.A. Baracus???"

"He’s right," said Kristin "you need a costume."

"No I don’t, I’ll just wear a suit, and tell them I’m dressed as a yuppie."

"It won’t work," said Kristin, "the tickets specifically say that you must come in costume. It would be incredibly lame, even for you, to not wear a costume."

"Well what do you want me to do?" I cried, "I don’t have a costume, and the party is in three hours. There’s no way we can whip one together. I’ll just skip the party then."

"If you do I swear to God I’ll kick your bitchy little ass," said Mike, only half joking, "I’m not going to let an opportunity this good to get laid pass me by."

"Then I’ll cut two holes in a sheet and go as a ghost," I said.

"We don’t have any white sheets," said Kristin.

"Then I’ll be a tartan flannel ghost!"

"I’ve got a better idea," said Kristin with a devilish grin that I didn’t like the looks of, "just because I’ve got a broken ankle doesn’t mean Holly Golighty can’t make an appearance at the Millenium Masquerade."

"But the Doctor said you can’t put any weight on your ankle for a week, even with crutches," I said.

"I know stupid, but Holly Golightly can still go, I’ve still got the costume."

"So which of your friends can we get to wear it so that I can still be George Peppard."

"None of them, Charlie. YOU are going as Holly Golightly."

"The hell I am."

* * * *

I didn’t really even want to go to the Millenium Masquerade at all, and there is no way on God’s Green Earth that I was going to go to the Millenium dressed as Audrey Hepburn in "Breakfast at Tiffany’s."

Mike pleaded with me. Yes, he agreed that it was a ridiculous idea, but far better than staying home. As I continued to refuse, his pleads turned to threats. Threats that if I let him down we wouldn’t be friends anymore followed by threats that he’d whip my ass. I knew these threats were empty ones, but I started feeling bad for Mike. He really wanted to go to the party.

Then my sister started in on me. She told me how much she loved Audrey Hepburn and disappointed she was that she couldn’t go to the party. When she saw that compassion wouldn’t get me into a dress, she tried logic. It makes sense, she said, you and I are the same size, you could totally fit into the dress.

"But what about my hair?" I asked, pointing to my short mane of dark brown hair.

"Look at mine stupid," she replied, pointing to her own short mane of dark brown hair, "I bought a long hair extension to use for the costume. It’s all yours sweetie."

"Don’t call me sweetie," I said, "I am not wearing that costume."

"Come on," begged Michael, "it’s our only hope."

"No."

"OK, how about if I pay for your ticket."

"I’m not humiliating myself for $150."

"Alright, then I’ll also buy you the Dreamcast game of your choice."

Ouch, Mike had exploited my weakness. He knew I was dying for Driver 2 on Sega Dreamcast.

"Still, that’s only $200 for me to make an ass of myself."

"Dude, nobody will know it’s you. They’ll have no idea who the drag queen is, and I won’t tell anyone."

"Drag queen?" said Kristin, "nobody will recognize who the GIRL is that’s dressed as Holly Golightly. Believe me, with my hair and makeup skills, I can make Charlie look like a Charlene is no time."

She was right, Kristin was a wizard with hair and makeup, so much so that she was in the process of opening her own salon thanks to her fabulous talents in the field.

"I don’t know," I continued, "I still think it’s a bad idea."

"Charlie," Mike pleaded, getting down on his knees, "please, do it for me. A free ticket, Driver 2 for Dreamcast, nobody will know who you are, and I’ll mow your lawn for all of next summer."

This last part meant a lot. Mike knows how much I hate yardwork, and more importantly, Mike has terrible allergies, so him slaving away on my family’s huge lawn in the hot summer sun, sneezing his ass off, is a huge sacrifice. It was obvious how important this party was for Mike, my best friend in the world.

"Alright dickheads," I said, "I’ll go as Holly Golightly."

* * * *

After the cheers subsided, I was whisked into the shower by my sister, but not before being instructed on how to properly shave my legs and underarms.

I got out of the shower, wrapped a towel around my waist, and walked into my sister’s room.

"First of all," I said to Mike, who was standing there with an obnoxious smirk on his face, "you go downstairs. This is embarrassing enough without having you watch."

Mike, thrilled as he was that I agreed to go to the party, quietly obeyed. After he left the room, my sister, seated in front of her vanity mirror, ripped the towel off me.

"You’re wearing it wrong," she said, wrapping it around my chest, "a lady always covers her nipples."

* * * *

An hour later, my face was covered in makeup, and my hair was perfectly set. I wanted desperately to see how stupid I looked, but Kristin had insisted on covering the mirror with a towel until the process was complete.

Kristin made me drag her chair over to her closet and drawers, so that she could begin getting the costume together.

"You know Charlie," she said, "I know you hate being only 5’5’’ and 122 pounds, but when it comes to cross dressing, those are great numbers."

"Thanks asshole," I said, taking a sip of the beer that I insisted on drinking if I was going to go through with this, "Just give me the damn clothes."

First came silky black panties and a shiny black bra, filled with pantyhose. Next I was subjected to a pair of black pantyhose, which I had to admit felt nice wrapped tightly around my shaved legs.

Then my sister tossed me a pair of shiny black heels. "Put those on and practice walking."

I did as I was told, and began wobbling around the room. Wobbling half because of the fact that I had never before worn heels, and half because of the five beers I had already consumed during the transformation.

After some instruction and practice, I got the hang of walking in the heels. I could tell my sister was proud, but I could not share in her pleasure. Sashaying around my sister’s room, swinging my hips in a bra, panties and high heels, was a very odd experience to say the least.

And then I saw the dress. Black, sleeveless, half-backless, the skirt falling gracefully to the floor, it was unbelievably glamorous.

"Good lord," I said, "that gown is beautiful!"

"Isn’t it," said Kristin, " I only wish I was wearing it instead of my brother."

I slipped it over my head as instructed, and turned as Kristin zipped the back. I was then handed a pair of black elbow length gloves, which I put on as Kristin slipped a faux-diamond necklace around my neck. Dangling faux-diamond clip on earrings were the final touch, along with a long cigarette holder, with rolled up paper in the cigarette slot, since I don’t smoke.

Kristin beamed as she pulled the towel off the mirror to show me her creation.

After seeing the mirror, I needed another drink. Fast.

The dress, hugging my slim hips and artificial breasts, looked gorgeous. My small hands encased in the satin black gloves looked amazingly feminine, but not nearly as girlish as my face. My blue eyes were accentuated by Kristin’s masterful make-up work. My cheeks looked delicate and lovely thank to her foundation and blush, and my lips looked incredibly kissable in the bright red lipstick. I don’t know how Kristin did it with that hair, but the extension, which matched my natural dark brown color, sat elegantly in a swirling mass in the top of my head, tucked behind a fake diamond tiara.

I looked really, really hot, and it freaked me out.

"Jesus Kristin," I stammered, "I’d hook up with me."

"I know, I did a spectacular job. I almost forgot," she said, reaching in a drawer, "wear these."

I put on the dark oversized sunglasses and headed downstairs to Mike, who I knew would shit his pants.

* * * *

"Get the fuck outta here," Mike said, "that’s not you."

"Oh yes it is, now let’s get out of here, before I change my mind."

* * * *

"I can’t believe how much you look like a chick," Mike said in the back of the taxi on the way to the ball.

"Wait a second," interrupted the driver, "you’re not a woman."

"Excuse me," I said, attempting to make my voice more high pitched and breathy, at the same time elbowing Mike hard in the gut, "I am a woman, sir, and I find you to be intolerably rude."

"Sorry ma’am," said the driver, clearly confused.

"Jesus, you even sound like a chick," said Mike.

"Listen dickhead," I whispered, "we agreed the NOBODY is to know who I am, so I will act—and be treated—as a lady at all times. That means you will be courteous to me, you will hold open doors, you will buy me drinks, and most importantly, you will not leave my side the entire time, because I do not want to deal with any men who may or may not find me attractive."

"Understood," said Mike, "but you understand that just because I take you to the dance doesn’t mean I have to be your boyfriend. I’m getting some action tonight, so you are my sister and not my girlfriend."

"Agreed."

* * * *

About an hour after arriving, I had to admit to Mike that coming was a good idea. The band was great, the dance floor was jumping, everybody looked great, and I could hardly taste the rum in my cokes.

I also had to admit something else…I was having a blast in my costume! I never received so many smiles, or had such a feeling of admiration. Once I got over the uneasiness of having men leer at me, I realized that they all thought I was beautiful, and many of the women at the party complimented me as well. Maybe it was the craziness of it all, or the fact that for the first time in my life people were paying attention to me, or perhaps it was just the booze, but I was really starting to enjoy myself.

I decided then to have fun with this,

"Michael," I said, "I’m glad we came."

"Dude, stop calling me Michael, you’ve been calling me Michael all night, you never call me Michael, call me Mike."

"But Michael honey," I said, playfully running my glove clad hand along his chest, "Michael is so much nicer than Mike," and then leaning close to his ear I whispered, "AND I AM NOT DUDE, I AM A LADY."

"Alright then Peaches," he said, "what is you name?"

"Holly" I said.

"But Holly is your costume name, what’s your real name."

"Of, I said, smiling, I hadn’t thought of that. I guess you can call me…Tiffani, with an ‘i’."

"Alright Tiffani, with a an ‘i' , I think it’s my duty to warn you that you are scaring me."

"Oh sweetie," I pouted, "don’t forget, I did this all for you."

Fuck him, I thought, he got me into this, so I’ll make him squirm.

"You’re right," he said, "I’m sorry."

"That’s okay Michael. Now listen baby, I’m going to go powder my nose, you wait right here for me."

"Okay, but let’s not forget that you are my SISTER, Tiffani, not my girlfriend."

* * * *

The trip to the bathroom was uneventful, except for the fact that I was surrounded by women and that after I was done, instead of washing my hands and rushing out, I stopped to check my makeup and re-apply my lipstick.

I returned to find Mike working his hardest to impress a pretty blond with his smooth conversational skills. I decided then to get my revenge.

"Michael," I said, wrapping one arm around his waist and resting the other against his side with my hand clutching his shoulder, "introduce me to your friend."

Other than turning beet red, Mike handled it smoothly.

"Janey," he said to the suspicious looking girl, "this is my sister Tiffani,"

"Sister?" I said, "but Michael, if I was your sister what we did last night would be a crime!"

Mike laughed a horribly forced, obviously uncomfortable laugh. "Janey, you’ll have to excuse Tiffani, she has an odd sense of humor."

Janey looked dumb enough to buy Mike’s lying, so to erase any doubt, I gave her a catty look and turned to Mike.

"Listen Michael," I purred, "if you want her, it doesn’t bother me, maybe she could join us."

As I said this I thought of ways to piss him off even more, and without hesitating, placed my left hand on his cheek and pulled his face to mine, giving him a quick kiss on the lips.

Mike stood speechless, his red turning to purple and sweat forming on his forehead, as he watched Janey storm away.

"Wh-wh-what the fuck are you doing?" asked Mike.

I was too busy laughing to respond, and seeing me doubled over howling with glee got the better of Mike, who started laughing too.

"Well then girly," he said to me grabbing my hand and laughing, "if you’re not gonna gonna let me pick up a girl then I guess you have to be my date. Dance with me."

"Alright, but no funny business."

Mike whisked me away to the dance floor and we danced together for a couple of songs. If I’d stop to think about it, it was completely bizarre dancing with my best friend, dressed as a women. That settled, I stopped thinking about it.

Eventually we stopped dancing and kept drinking. Midnight came and went, as did Mike’s prospects of meeting a girl. I mercifully stopped trying to pretend I was his date, but even giving him his distance, he was striking out left and right.

By 3:00 Mike threw in the towel. We were both tired, and we were both hammered, and it was time to call it a night.

"Are you crashing at my place," I asked.

"Of course," he said, "I never pass up an opportunity to see your sister in her evening wear."

"Alright, then I’ll call a cab and get us home."

* * * *

The cab pulled up, and Mike opened the door for me. As I stepped off the curb and into the car, he also offered me his hand.

"Why thank you Michael," I said, smiling.

"Enough with the Michael already."

* * * *

I turned on the TV as we Mike settled on the leather living room sofa.

"Take a long look," I said, holding my arms over my head with my wrists intertwined, "this is the last time you’ll see me this beautiful."

"Don’t flatter yourself," laughed Mike, "you’re not that hot."

"Bullshit," I said, "I could have had any guy a that party."

"Whatever dude—"

"DON’T CALL ME DUDE, CALL ME TIFFANI!!!"

I don’t know who was more surprised by my words, Mike or me. Sensing the awkwardness, I tried to laugh it off.

"All I’m saying is that Kristin did an amazing job, and I never thought she’d make me look like a girl, let alone a beautiful one."

"Tiffani," said Mike, "I hate to burst your bubble, but you are not a woman, and your really not that beautiful."

"Oh yeah," I said, "you may think you’re too much of a hard guy to admit it, but I look like a girl and I can prove it."

"How?"

"I’ll bet you double or nothing on anything you owe me that you think I look hot."

"How the Hell can you prove something like that? You can’t read my mind."

"You’re right about that, but you can’t hide a boner."

"WHAT?!?!"

"I bet that I can give you a boner."

"You’re sick."

"You’re a pussy."

"You’re a homo!!!"

"No I’m not, and you’re still a pussy."

"No way dude,"

"Pussy pussy pussy!!!"

I knew I was getting to him, and I also knew that I could win the bet.

"Come on Michael, if you’re such a big stud, then you should know a man from a woman, and there should be no problem. That is, unless you’re a pussy."

"Alright alright, you’re on, but I set the rules. First, no touching, second you only have two minutes."

"That’s fine honey," I said, "give me a second to prepare."

I ran into the bathroom and checked my makeup, fixed my hair, and with toilet paper augmented my breast to supermodel size. Then I took one last look in the mirror, put on my sunglasses, and walked back to the living room.

I walked over to Mike and stood right in front of him, and then walked slowly ten steps away from him, swinging my hips slowly and seductively. I stopped with my back still to him, turned my head back to him, and slowly took off my sunglasses and smiled as I twirled my body to him. I walked back toward him, again slowly and seductively, running my hands from my hips to my shoulders. As I stood in front of him I ran my hands up to my head and took out the pins that held my wig in a bun, letting the still attached hair fall to my shoulders. I swung my neck back and forth so that he could see the shiny brown hair fly from side to side and then come to rest, framing my face.

I began slowly dancing from side to side, the way that I had seen strippers do on tv. I could tell Mike was about to say something, so I leaned over and put a gloved finger on his lips, whispering shhhhh.

I stood again and raised my hands to the back of my neck, unzipped my dress, and let it fall to the ground around me. I turned and walked slowly away, around to the back of the couch. Behind Mike now, I leaned forward, and touched my lips to his ears.

"Do you like what you see Michael,"

"No," he whispered, knowing that I didn’t believe him.

"You don’t want me?" I whispered, knowing I’d soon win

"No, you’re Charlie, not Tiffani," he said.

"No sweetie, tonight Charlie is gone, I’m your girlfriend Tiffani, and I’ll do whatever you want me to," I said, running my hand down his chest, past his stomach, to his groin. I knew I’d feel his hard penis, and then I would proclaim victory and then go to bed.

As my fingers reached his cock, I was shocked at how rockhard he was, and instead of pulling my hand immediately away, I instinctively wrapped my fingers around it.

Mike thrust his hand on top of mine.

"Oh God Tiffani, please don’t let go."

I was shocked by his words, and more shocked by the realization that now I was hard too. As my mind raced, Mike spun around, he grabbed my face between his hands, and pulled my face to his.

Our lips ravaged each other and I felt his warm tongue probe my mouth. I wanted to pull away but as I heard his heavy breathing combine with my moans of ecstasy, I knew that I wouldn’t.

I ran my hands through his hair as his hands caressed my back and my rear. His lips were soft and strong, and his arms held me like I’d never been held before. I sunk into his embrace as he kissed my neck.

"Michael," I breathed, "we can’t do this."

"Tiffani," he responded, "I’ve been thinking about this all night. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I need you."

As I kissed him again, I felt his arms wrap around my lower back as he lifted me over the couch that separated us. He laid me gently on the sofa and got on top of me.

As his tongue penetrated my mouth, his powerful hips thrust against mine and I could feel his hardness. I reached my hand down, and frantically massaged his cock. I wanted to feel my hand against it, skin against skin, but his Superman jumpsuit got in the way.

"Michael baby, stand up."

Superman stood, and I rose to meet him. I kissed him again and wrapped my hands around the back of his neck, untying the suit. As it fell to the ground, his penis sprang free, and I could see that it was huge.

My own penis strained against my black panties as I sat Michael down on the sofa and knelt between his legs.

I looked in his eyes, and with a little smile I asked him if I could suck his dick.

He agreed.

I kissed his stomach as I pulled his boxers down to his ankles. I lowered my head to the tip of his cock, and as I pushed my hair behind my ears, I looked up at him with my beautifully made up blue eyes as my red lips surrounded his penis.

I took the upper half of his shaft into my mouth as my hand worked the bottom half. Michael and I maintained eye contact, and the increasing volume of his moans increased my own intensity.

I amazed myself at how could I was at this considering it was my first time, and the thought of that made me smile.

I continued looking into his eyes as I smiled, and at the exact moment that he saw my pleasure, I felt his penis convulse and his warm salty fluid explode into my mouth. I never broke eye contact with him as I swallowed every drop. And I kept my lips around his cock until if softened to regular size.

Michael grabbed my shoulder with both of his hands, and lifted me to his lap. He ran his hands through my hair, and told me I was gorgeous. Then he kissed me again, with more passion than every before.

I curled up in his lap, feeling warm and protected, and more loved than I had ever felt before.

"That was totally fucked up," he said.

"I know," I whispered back, still cradled in his arms, afraid to tell him how much I enjoyed it.

"What are we gonna do?" Michael asked.

"I don’t know what’ll happen tomorrow," I said, "but right know I don’t want anything to change."

"Tonight it won’t Tiffani, tonight you’re mine."

 

 

TO BE CONTINUED IF THERE IS SUFFICIENT INTEREST

 

 

 

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