Queen's Village

by Tanya Mazurek

  

Barry stared at the ceiling in his room for a long time almost as if there was something on it that would answer his questions. Lost in thought, the 17-year-old boy pondered his upcoming 18^th birthday in two months in June, 1967 and fantasized about the possibilities. It had been almost two weeks since he went to the dance in Flushing dressed, as Kitty and it had been a liberating, yet, sobering experience.

Barry loved the drama and the danger. He went to a beauty salon in Flushing and using a complex, almost ridiculous story, had himself made up as his alter-ego Kitty and somehow got away with an outrageous night of daring and discovery. Somehow, life wasn't the same after that night. He had found out that it was more fun to be a foxy looking chick than a scrawny guy. Barry had made not being noticed an art form and on that night, his first as Kitty, he learned that it was fun to be noticed.

Almost as if by magic, Barry faded back into anonymity. The day after the big event, he washed his hair, oh, about a few dozen times until it faded into nothingness mousy brown again. Actually, the lightener, changed the color a bit, but the grease that Barry used to comb back his hair darkened the color enough to let the uncaring and the unknowing stay that way. The hard part was making sure that there was no evidence of nail polish. Barry was never teased. He knew how to comb his hair in a boyish style for school, wear really drab guy clothes, and glasses and act guy-bland.

Barry's mother was a shy bookkeeper who was quiet and kept mostly to herself. She was uninvolved in Barry's life and would often like to visit one of her sisters now that Barry's father had died. As an only child, he was often alone for long periods and he used the opportunity to become Kitty. However, until the dance in Flushing, it was dress-up in private or a walk outside once in a while.

It was a Thursday afternoon just before the Spring Break and Barry, aware that his mom was preparing to visit her sister Beatrice, was wondering how and when Kitty could come back for a visit. The doorbell rang and Barry casually went to the door. When he opened the door, Barry was stunned and his whole world seemed turned upside down. Standing in the entrance was Rhonda holding his guy satchel with all his stuff that he had left in her car! Barry's mind raced at 100 mph. What could he say to make her go away? Instead he sputtered, "How? How did you find me?" Rhonda was holding all the cards. She had his life in her hands and how and why she was here; Barry was just too stunned and scared to ask. All his life, he had been in control and now he wasn't.

Rhonda, sensing the boy's anxiety, reassuringly said, "You looked beautiful that night" (the past tense was not lost on Barry) and added, "When I got a couple of blocks away in the car, I realized that I had your satchel and parked and went to the dance to bring it to you…are you sure that was a costume party?" Barry's face reddened noticeably as he stuttered, "Uhhhh". Rhonda kind of laughed and said that Barry had left a Library late notice in one of his pants pockets in the satchel allowing Rhonda to look him up.

The two just stood in the doorway and Rhonda shrugged and seemed ready to leave and Barry suddenly invited her in. (Exactly, what am I doing?). It was an unlikely duo. The 17 year old skinny kid with hair that was greased to hide it's length, glasses to hide tweezed eyebrows and a brassy beautician with a thick Brooklyn accent and a world of experience. They both seemed to sense the incongruity of it all and they noticeably shifted their feet uncomfortably. Finally Rhonda almost shouted, "You gotta tell all about it"). Barry wondered to himself if he could tell the story without blushing.

They sat and had a cup of very poorly made instant coffee. But Rhonda just laughed and whipped out a flask of Genuine Kentucky Whiskey and a pack of Newports. Barry's eyes lit up and they sat down to talk, Rhonda immediately confirmed his worst fears that she had seen him at the dance and dancing with guys. (Why did she care so much? Barry wondered) She even giggled as she told him that she saw him pour the first glass of punch and add Genuine Kentucky Whiskey. Even Barry was laughing out loud as they talked about the big adventure. Barry left out the part about giving oral sex to a stranger in his car as he reasoned that it was Kitty's secret, not his.

Rhonda was about to leave and as they were walking to the door, she asked Barry if he wanted to become Kitty again. He nodded but couldn't keep eye contact. Rhonda made it easy for him. She kissed him on the cheek and simply said, "You are really a sweet kid who needs a friend." Barry almost cried. Rhonda wrote down all her contact information and left as suddenly as she had appeared.

The next day, Barry's mom left to visit Aunt Beatrice and Barry had the house to himself for ten days. His mom half-heartedly asked him to go along, however, he knew that the women wanted to play cards and watch the soaps together. (Maybe they would like to hang out with Kitty, he thought). Barry's routine, when he had so much time alone was to play dress-up. Barry did not encourage friendships as hanging out with the guys and dress-up does not mix. Anyway, his private phone rang.

Barry was surprised and worried when he heard Rhonda's voice on the other end. What did she want with him? He wondered. Why him? Barry never considered himself cute or feminine or witty or whatever. He knew that he knew how to stay out of trouble, but the first time that he had heard any compliments in years was the night that Kitty visited and that ended with less than a bang (He giggled at his own private joke). Rhonda sounded nonchalant and casually mentioned that she was headed to the Village and wanted to know if he wanted to go clubbing. Rhonda thought that he was 18 and that was the drinking age in 1967.

The problem was that Barry was 17 (okay, almost 18 does not count); hey, Kitty was 27 (just look at her I.D.s!!) Barry had looked at his mom's old library cards and I.D.s and noticed that since she was 20 when he was born, all he had to do was change 1929 to 1939 (not all that hard at a time when there were few picture I.D.s. Barry still laughs at the time when he went to the library, cabana club, etc and complained sternly to management that his sister's I.D. needed to be updated, corrected and re-issued). Anyway, Kitty never asked and never even brought that up. She just thought that he might find it a fun evening.

Well, Barry realized that this was one of those moments that can be quite fateful; if he said yes, he was stepping into the unknown and if he said no, it would be just another boring evening pretending to be Kitty for his goldfish. Kitty would say yes. Kitty told him to say yes. Her whispering was getting louder and she urged him to seek adventure. Barry quietly asked Rhonda "What should I wear/" Ouch, bad question. There was an awkward silence and finally Rhonda said, "Do you want me to help "dress" you?" Barry was smart enough to know what "dress" meant. "Is it legal to go around like that?" he asked and realized what a wimp he sounded like. Rhonda asked him if he had thought about that before the "costume" party. "But that was a costume party", he protested. Yeah, right he thought.

Finally, the teenage boy, ran his fingers through his hair, absentmindedly stroked his privates and found himself casually saying, "Sure, why not?" Actually, his heart was pounding and he was almost ready to faint. Before he could say a word, Rhonda asked if she could come over and "help" him. Did that mean more than "help"? Where was this relationship going? Barry was a loner by choice so that he could play dress-up and not be ridiculed. Inviting others into his world sent him into a panic, particularly, because, he thought of himself as a drab, scrawny teenager who preferred anonymity to ridicule.

Rhonda showed up at his door around 5 PM. She had a suitcase with her and seemed more excited about the prospects of hanging out in the Village with Barry than Barry was at the thought of becoming Kitty again. What did Rhonda really want out of this? She came across like a tough broad with a heart of gold for the downtrodden but what did she really want? Barry put all of this out of his mind as he started to focus on the evening.

What to do? Where to start?

Barry had never dressed-up with someone in the same room or even in the same house except for that one night at Sandy's Beauty Salon. In fact, he never dreamed that becoming Kitty would change his personality or how people perceived him. Rhonda turned him towards that mirror in the living room and asked him what he saw. He shrugged. Rhonda tried a different approach. "What would Kitty say?" she asked coyly. Barry shrugged again. So Rhonda said, "Let's bring her back and find out". And so the night began.

Barry had never thought of having a stranger in his room. Especially a woman. He wasn't even sure of Rhonda's age. To him, all women between 25 and 45 looked the same. That is why he was so disappointed when Rhonda and Maria decided that his features would best reflect a woman in her late 20s to 30 years old. To undress in front of her was out of the question. He had kept his body relatively hairless and just needed to shave his legs a bit to get that smooth look. He showered and Rhonda waited. By 6 PM Barry was ready and Rhonda was getting impatient.

Barry invited Rhonda into the main bathroom. He had a towel wrapped around himself and knew that he appeared as embarrassed as he felt. Rhonda, sensing the boy's distress reminded him that they had done this before. Barry reminded her that it was at Sandy's and not in his own home. Rhonda went back to the same question and answered it herself. "Honey, what do you see? You see a beautiful face with light blue eyes that need to learn how to dance with joy and fun. You see a butterfly in a cocoon that needs to escape." She added, "and you see a really hot mama that is ready to rock". Even Barry had to giggle at that one. Rhonda laughed, "Before we get started, how about some punch?" They both were laughing now and out came the flask with Genuine Kentucky Whiskey.

Rhonda went to work. She wanted to move along so that they could head into the Village. She asked for the fall that Barry had used on the night of the "costume" party. However, it did not match Barry's hair any longer. Fortunately, as with all good beauticians, she had a swatch of hair that was light brown that kind of matched his hair. She had most of her stuff with her and Barry started to relax. With each passing moment, whether it was the alcohol or not, he could feel himself relax and as the transformation started to take shape, more and more of Kitty started to emerge.

About 8 PM, as the curlers were removed and Rhonda was teasing Barry's hair and securing the fall into place, Barry became Kitty. Kitty looked more subdued with light brown hair than with the reddish, blondish look at the "costume" party. Her makeup was softer and she was obviously more relaxed. She didn't see Barry in the mirror any longer and Barry had apparently gone somewhere else for the evening. Kitty turned to Rhonda and murmured, "Thank you, sugar". Sugar? Barry had never used that word in his life except to add it to ice tea. Rhonda smiled a knowing smile and nothing had to be said.

Except…….where are we going? How will we get there? What is this evening all about?

It was dark outside as they left the house around 830 PM and Kitty was less concerned than Barry at getting caught. However, she had Rhonda check outside, bring the car near the front of the house and Kitty left the house, getting in the car quickly without looking around. The house was still a bit of a mess, but Kitty knew that Barry had over a week to clean it up.

Rhonda handed Kitty a plastic cup of soda in the car as they drove. Kitty at first refused. "Suit yourself" smiled Rhonda, who added, " this soda is spiked" Kitty changed her mind and Kitty and Rhonda drove to the Village in Rhonda's 1960 Ford fueled by Genuine Kentucky Whiskey. Barry, who apparently came along for the ride, sent a thought message to Kitty that Rhonda would have trouble parking. When they got to Bleeker Street in the Village and Rhonda pulled her old, battered Ford into a private, reserved parking spot, both Kitty and Barry knew that Rhonda knew where she was going and that someone was expecting her.

The car was in a dimly lit alley with just enough room for two cars. Rhonda had pulled all the way forward so that if another car parked behind her she would be blocked. Kitty let herself out of the car and suddenly, she realized that there were hundreds of people on the street walking by. She waited for Rhonda, who smiled at her, and they walked slowly down the street.

They had walked about a block and a half and Rhonda stopped in front of a place called "The Purple Club." The blood drained from Kitty's face when she realized that this was a club that featured female impersonators. Kitty was in an awful dilemma. She wanted to leave. But where? The subway? She was wearing an evening dress and faux fur stole and that would not work. Call a taxi? A taxi to Queens would cost a million dollars (okay a bit less). She felt betrayed. Rhonda told her to relax and just keep an open mind. Rhonda was missing the point, thought Kitty. The whole point of being Kitty was NOT to be taken for a female impersonator (ugh!)

As they entered, the "bouncer" looked at Kitty and Rhonda, nodded to Rhonda and let them through. It finally occurred to Kitty that maybe Rhonda might not be what she seemed. The lighting was better than Kitty expected as they entered with a bar off to the left with plenty of stools, tables to the right, a dance floor in the center and a stage in the back. Kitty started to walk towards a table and Rhonda gently took her arm and lead her to a barstool. Kitty half expected that all the guys would jump on them like fresh meat but to her surprise, not one seemed to react with nearly the enthusiasm that she remembered from the "costume" dance. They probably like guys, thought Kitty." Hey, wait a minute!" she could hear Barry yell from the inner recesses of her brain "are we being ignored because we are women? That is really weird."

A roundish guy, well dressed as a guy but with blush on his cheeks, came up to Rhonda and kissed her on the cheek, "Hi, sweetie", he gushed. Rhonda smiled, exchanged pleasantries for a sec, and introduced Kitty. The man nodded and Kitty smiled and Rhonda continued to make small talk as the place become noticeably more crowded. Kitty's eyes were drawn to a macho guy about 6 foot 4 inches dancing with another guy. They were obviously two tough guys and Kitty tried to act nonchalant. The place had perhaps close to two hundred guys and a dozen women. What is going on? Kitty wondered. The smell of cigarettes was heavy and Kitty, getting a bit antsy, took out a Newport. Before, she could light it, two guys tried to light her cigarette at one time. She giggled out loud and the guys just laughed. She made a mental note that people seem to like it when Kitty giggles.

A little after 10 PM, a band appeared on the stage and started to play as if a show was to start. The roundish man talking to Rhonda, got up on the stage and started to warm up the enthusiastic crowd. This was a going to be a Drag Show. Actually, Barry had never been to any kind of show (other than school stuff) and Kitty and Rhonda sat back to watch. The show last almost two hours and included a comedian who looked like a madame, a "stripper" who had quite the flair and several other acts that had talent. However, with the exception of two of the dancers, they all looked like guys wearing dresses.

Nearing the end of the show, Kitty realized that she had to pee from all those drinks and she was getting tipsy again!! What to do? Rhonda figured all of this out despite the noise and pointed to a room in the back. Kitty looked confused so Rhonda walked Kitty back to a private, if somewhat filthy bathroom away from the men's and ladies' rooms. Two drag queens were fixing their hair and another was standing at one of the bowls with the door open taking a whiz!!! Kitty was shocked. She had her privates taped and could pee only sitting down. Besides, the drag queens appeared so unladylike. They looked carefully at Kitty who wanted to melt into the wall. However, one said, "What were you expecting? Goldilocks? Use one of the stalls in the back." Kitty went to a dirty little stall, did her business and left with so much as another word. As soon as she reached her bar stool, a man, offered it back to her and Rhonda interjected that they would be leaving. Rhonda kissed about 3 or four people goodbye and they left.

By 1230 AM, the crowd, even in the Village on this warm pleasant night was thinning out. Kitty assumed that they were going back to Queens and the night was over. Rhonda directed her further down the block, away from the car. Kitty asked, "Where are we going?" Rhonda answered only by saying that the Village never closes down. Kitty looked very closely at Rhonda in the light and concluded that Rhonda was a real girl. Rhonda, as if sensing the confusion, commented, "Monte, the emcee, is a great beautician. He had a chair at my old Salon and still has quite a following."

They arrived at an apartment about 3 blocks from the heart of the village that was kind of modern. Kitty knew that it must cost a bundle. They walked up two flights of stairs and knocked on the door. Inside, there was relatively quiet, slow music and at least thirty people; some talking, a couple dancing, some making out in the corner and about 8 people playing some game. About half the crowd acknowledged their entrance and several said hello to Rhonda with the obligatory hugs. It occurred to Kitty as she stood there, that she had become comfortable in her own skin and had no problem in being seen as Kitty.

Out of nowhere, Rhonda asked Kitty to dance. To dance!!! So she thinks that I am a lesbian, Kitty thought. Barry, who was there in spirit, told Kitty to say yes and there they were, swaying to and fro to the music. Rhonda pulled Kitty close to her and whispered, "Having fun, honey?" Actually, Kitty was doing okay, but it was all so new. She never answered and Rhonda continued to draw her closer. It struck Kitty that no one at the "Club Purple" asked her to dance. Not one person. Anyway, she pushed her pelvis close to Rhonda who did not react. After the dance was over, Rhonda disappeared into the kitchen.

As Kitty started to light another Newport, a pretty blonde girl held out a flame from a cigarette lighter. Kitty took the light and they started to chat. The girl was named Leslie and she looked awfully familiar. After a few minutes of small talk, it dawned on Kitty that Leslie was one of the two pretty dancers at the "Club Purple". "You are a dancer from the Club!" Kitty sputtered. Leslie, a tall, angular, blonde, coolly nodded as if she had done this a thousand times. At that moment, Rhonda came by and commented, "I see that you two have met." Leslie, who had a Brooklyn accent like Rhonda, kissed Rhonda on the cheek with an air of familiarity and added, "Hi, sis." Kitty almost died! Could Rhonda be Leslie's real sister? OMG!!!

All of a sudden, Leslie's eyes widened and she exclaimed, "So! You must be Kitty from the Dance!" Kitty, taken aback by the comment, trying to make a joke of it, retorted, "So! You must be Leslie from the Club Purple." They all laughed and Rhonda, brassier than ever when she is relaxed and excited, exclaimed. "I just knew that you girls would hit it off!" Was that Rhonda's plan all along? To introduce me to her sister? Leslie visibly relaxed. She giggled, "I had no idea! I thought you were a beautician from Queens" Sensing the hurt look on Kitty's face, Leslie grabbed her arm and told her that, as a female impersonator, she can tell a drag queen a mile away and Kitty fooled even her. Is that my purpose, thought Kitty, fooling smart beautiful drag queens?

Two glasses of punch with Genuine Kentucky Whiskey later and Rhonda, Leslie and Kitty were just laughing it up. By now, it was 2 AM and the crowd was drifting out of the apartment. It occurred to Kitty that she did not have a clue who rented or owned this flat or where this was all going. Rhonda, almost as if she could read Kitty's mind, said that she was in no condition to drive, the car was safe in Monte's parking spot and they could all stay in Leslie's room. Was this Leslie's apartment? How could a dancer afford this place? Kitty, a bit tired and alcohol goofy, was ready to just lie down and close her eyes for a bit.

Leslie walked Kitty gently back to a nice room that had corner windows. It was a bit chilly and the windows, which had been open, were closed. As Leslie placed Kitty gently on the queen sized (what else) bed, she gently stroked Kitty's hair. Kitty meant to make a sound of tired pleasure and comfort that actually came out as a purr. In the dim recesses of her mind, Kitty, her eyes closed, could hear herself purring with pleasure. So this is the universal plan that The Fates have in store for me, she thought, as she drifted off to sleep. Leslie, slid in beside her and pulled her body ever so close. They were still clothed, but they could sense the warmth and chemistry between them. They seemed to sigh at the same time and fell asleep in each other's arms.

 

The noise on the street awoke Barry from a sound sleep. He was groggy and at first didn't know where he was. All of a sudden, he realized that the garter belt around his waist was pinching him and he was still in women's undergarments. The smell of bacon and eggs wafted in from the other room and sunlight was filtering in. He got up and stretched. No one was in the room. He looked in the mirror and his makeup had smudged to the point that he looked like he had two black eyes. The clock on the wall said 830 AM. He stretched and then remembered everything from the night before.

He peeked around the corner and saw what appeared to be a fancy kitchen with lots of pots and pans. Before he could pull his head back, a voice called out, "'Morning Sleeping Beauty." Leslie came over to him and planted a big kiss in Barry's lips. Somehow, a kiss from Leslie felt good despite his grogginess, Startled, he noticed that Leslie, who was wearing only pedal pushers and slippers, had breasts!! Not huge, but budding breasts nevertheless. Very disconcerting. He kind of gawked and Leslie looked up and smiled as if she knew that he was confused. She said nothing, except, "Breakfast is ready, Luv." Luv, thought Barry that was kind of nice. At that moment, the phone rang. Leslie picked it up and pushed the long cord away, while still managing to serve breakfast at the kitchen table. The smell of coffee was great particularly since Barry was used to instant coffee. A minute later, they sat down and Leslie casually said that Rhonda would be back from errands later. Later? Barry's mind raced. How was he going to get home? He had no change of clothes.

Leslie poured the coffee and it occurred to Barry that she was kind of doting on him. Something that he was not used to. All of a sudden, Leslie cursed and grabbed a napkin. She had poured hot coffee on her bare chest and started to use a kitchen towel to wipe it up, all the while cursing like a sailor. Barry got up quickly and helped wipe it away. Almost as if by instinct, he gently bent over and kissed the area hit by the scalding water. It was a gentle kiss, not a passionate one. However, Leslie looked up, closed her eyes and they kissed again for about a minute without saying one word. They just stood there basked in the sunlight of the Bay Window of this Village apartment and were wrapped in each other's arms. It seemed to last and last.

Without saying a word, the two went back to eating breakfast. It suddenly struck Barry that Leslie was not wearing a wig or a fall or anything other than her own hair. In 1967, it was rare to see any boy with long hair especially a beautiful golden blonde. Leslie was taller than Barry a couple of inches and it struck him that she would have been considered an average height scrawny guy. As a girl, she was a wow. She had no makeup on and the sunlight seemed to be very kind to her features, especially all that hair.

After breakfast, Barry asked if he could shower, however, he did not have a change of clothes. Leslie shrugged and gave him a fresh towel. He went into the shower and was struck by all the lotions and oils. He read and followed the directions of one particular lotion and came out of the shower smelling like a bouquet of lavender. As he came out of the shower, Leslie was standing there and had a towel on. She dropped the towel and there was this beautiful lanky model-like women with a kind of large, hanging appendage! Barry was by no means tiny down there, however, compared to this beauty, he was a gherkin. Leslie giggled and just put her head down and went into the shower.

Barry decided to make himself useful and made the bed and tidied up the room. He remembered the mess he had left in the house and was lost in that thought and did not notice that Leslie, out of the shower, had slipped back into the room. She almost snuck up behind him and massaged his back and kissed his right ear. Not used to this kind of affection from anyone, he almost pulled away. Something told him to not move. His total sexual experience was performing oral sex once on a stranger who thought that the 17-year-old boy was a 30-year-old woman whom he had just met at a dance. It started to dawn on this awakening love-child that his second sexual tryst was with a youngish female impersonator who had somehow grown small breasts and was hung like a horse.

Leslie gently coaxed Barry back to the bed and they fell down in a heap. It was mid morning and despite the noise and sunlight, they seemed oblivious to the world outside. Leslie gently placed her tongue in Barry mouth and the tongues touched. She gently tapped his teeth with the tip of her tongue and reached down and gently played with the nipples on his chest with her left hand and fingertips. She moved effortless as her body slid ever so slowly into position next to Barry. She stopped all of a sudden on the right side of her body and just looked at Barry who was on his left side. Time seemed to stand still and they gazed at each other.

Without saying a word, Leslie turned her body so that her head was liter rally at Barry's feet. For a moment, Barry was taken aback as she kissed each one of his toes. Slowly, gently. Almost as if she was sucking 10 small lollipops. It was a unique and exhilarating sensation; it left him breathless. In his own clumsy way, he started to reciprocate and she gently pushed his head towards her groin. Effortlessly and more graceful than passionate, a slow, rhythmic seduction that reminded Barry in the corners of his mind of the Greek Sirens seducing sailors.

Barry realized that he had come face to face with an incongruously huge erection that was within inches of his lips. He gently reached over and learned at least what to expect from his one prior experience. This was not a great time to say that he was a virgin who performed oral sex once in a dark car. He decided that if he took his time and tried to please his partner, this could be great. He gently licked the shaft. Slowly, methodically, looking for what was the biggest turn on. When he gently licked the tip, Leslie went wild. The erection was so large that it was practically in a different time zone. Barry knew that he would not even try to get the thing completely in his mouth so he rapped his lips around the tip and puckered. Barry did not know what he was doing, but Leslie did not seem to mind or care. As Leslie started to move her body to and fro, Barry realized that he was getting hard, as well. He moved his body close to Leslie so she could feel his hard dagger. She seemed to move even more violently and Barry hung on for dear life and he struggled to keep his lips on the tip of Leslie's huge lance. He felt a sudden spurt and without warning, Leslie ejaculated in huge while, throbbing gobs. The white oyster sauce just flew all over the place as Leslie jerked back and forth. Finally, she started to calm down and regain her composure. Leslie just sighed and stared at the ceiling.

Leslie started to gently rub the nape of Barry's back. Barry, who had lost his arousal after Leslie was finished turned on his back as Leslie gently massaged and tickled his neck. Slowly, methodically, she moved her hands down his back towards his butt and started to massage his derriere in slow, clock-wise circles. She bent down and he could feel her lips on his butt as she first kissed and gently bit his butt; her first words in what seem like an eternity were, "You have a very, very cute butt". Barry made a muffled sound and felt his erection grow. He could hear a jar softly opening, but was not paying much attention until he felt what he thought was lube jelly gently placed in his butt.

All of a sudden, he felt Leslie mount on his back. She was not heavy and she rode him like a bronco for about two minutes; it was fun and sexy but kind of made him giggle. Out of nowhere, Leslie brought her huge cannon onto the battlefield. She raised up her back at the correct angle and ram rodded the poor boy until he literally yelped. He had intended to moan, but the force was so great that he went straight to yelp. Instinctively, Barry kind of mentally morphed into Kitty and raised her butt high in the air to help her lover. She improvised because she did not know what to do. Her improv proved to be just the ticket. Kitty alternately contracted her muscles and let go; she pulled in her butt cheeks and let go; gently and rhythmically. Leslie came again; She caught it perfectly on the upswing and pressed her pelvis as high as it could go and they both moaned almost as if they had practiced together.

The lay side by side facing the ceiling. Score Leslie 2; Kitty coming to bat. Actually, Kitty was happy to have pleased her lover and really didn't need to come right now. She faced the ceiling and thought about the last 18 hours and the last two weeks. She has never had an orgasm with a lover yet seems capable of driving others wild. She actually enjoys doing just that. She just loved "turning heads" (she giggled at her own joke as she is want to do). She is slowly realizing that the ugly duckling known as Barry is a beautiful swan known as Kitty who is evolving in a world where Barry's are not supposed to evolve into Kitty's. She sighs in contentment and closes her eyes oblivious to the fact that it was Saturday afternoon in the Village and there is a whole world out there.

  

  

  

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