BE FOREWARNED. The following story contains sexually explicit material not suited for those who have not achieved the age of maturity. If you should fall into this category, do not read further. Consult the laws of your community to clarify if you are eligible to read sexually related material before proceeding. The theme is transsexual. If this type of story offends you, stop. Go do something else.

 

A Reckless Act               by: Virginia Kane                   © 2000. All rights reserved.

 

Chapter One.

It started when I got my first office job. Strictly suit and tie, my blue-collar days were over. Good riddance! Being overweight and short I’d never make the grade as a carpenter or brick mason, I studied hard so I’d qualify for a decent paying job working inside of an office. I had my share of sore limbs and lingering backaches from the arduous work and frequent colds, working at the mercy of the elements.

My uncle, my mom’s brother, was general foreman at a construction company. He kept me on the company’s payroll to afford going to college in the evenings, knowing full well that I couldn’t progress doing physical labor like the rest of the guys did where I worked for five long, miserable years.

I got moved around a lot, so every crew chief got a fair break; no foreman was strapped with me for too long. Can I help it if I wasn’t cut out for heavy work? I hated my job but I didn’t have much choice since my mom passed away. Without my uncle, I’d have ended up in an orphanage. I’ve got to hand it to him. He made sure I learned that I had to finish college, if I didn’t want to bust my butt day in and day out for the rest of my life. I made enough money as a construction gopher to survive and pay for my tuition, but I wasn’t going to get anywhere.

I was grateful for having my uncle take me in. He was thirty-five when mom died, a confirmed bachelor that preferred to chase women, and not settle down with any particular one. He didn’t cherish the notion of becoming the guardian for a kid of fifteen, so I stayed out of his hair as much as I could right from the start. When he brought a woman home to spend the night with him, I stayed locked in my room, watching television with my earphones on, studied or slept. He made it clear that he expected me to be quiet as a mouse whenever he was entertaining an overnight guest. He’d toss me out on my ear if I made noise or interfered in any way, once I was old enough. In exchange for his hospitality I kept his apartment relatively neat, and cooked for him, so he wouldn’t get nasty drunk on an empty stomach.

Otherwise, I couldn’t have gone to college and get the chance at a soft inside job. I wanted out of construction. The ruddy bricklayers and wood butchers I worked with either hated my guts or merely tolerated me. For five long years after high school, I suffered through constant indignation; being referred to as "Tony Luto’s bastard pansy-punk nephew, " a title I couldn’t deny. It wasn’t mom’s fault or mine. She got raped, pure and simple. Her religious convictions were responsible for my being alive. I certainly had no cause to resent my mom for not getting an abortion. Some of the guys I worked with thought otherwise and said as much.

Mom wasn’t what you’d call pretty, by any stretch of the imagination, but I don’t think that was entirely her fault. She was always sickly. She tried her best, though she didn’t try to look pretty. I suppose she’d rather not attract men, considering what once happened. Some guys at work joked about it, saying someone had to be hard up the day she got laid, and it was probably the one and only time for her, the rotten assholes. She worked herself into a grave as a waitress, raising me. Having me was the only source of joy for that frail woman. Life sure was tough on her.

How any of those dumb fucks could consider themselves too good for my sweet mom is a mystery. None of them were prizes, either. I often wondered which of them knew her rapist, but wouldn’t say. He was from our neighborhood, that’s all they’d admit. My uncle Tony’s morals weren’t any better, but he was away in the service when mom got raped, otherwise he swore he’d have murdered the guy, if he ever found out who the culprit was. The other guys wouldn’t rat on the bum.

When it happened, my uncle wrangled a hardship discharge in order to care for his pregnant sister. He was her only known living male relative. Mom was still a teenager at the time. Her mother, my grandma, disappeared, leaving my mom all alone, according to my uncle Tony. Mom never told me about any of it. I could blame my grandmother for mom’s rape, I suppose, if I had any idea who she was. Some mother she was. She abandoned a teenage daughter to fend for herself at sixteen; so, she got raped. Mom was a hopeless street kid, with no place to live.

So, my Uncle Tony’s brief military career was cut short, but high school R.O.T.C. and officer training enabled him to get promoted when the company expanded. At least I had a place to live and I wasn’t a destitute street tramp at sixteen like my mom was. After I finished high school, I had to get a job. Uncle Tony insisted that I had to learn what it was like to use my back, to become a better man. He swore I’d appreciate what he had to give up for my sake someday. If I wanted to better myself by going to college, I’d have to pay my own way, but he’d let me live with him, as long as I didn’t get in his way. I tried hard to not be a burden to him.

Enough of that! I was glad to finally get a place of my own. I moved as soon as I could afford an efficiency apartment. I was fed up with being his housekeeper, listening to his constant bragging about his sexual conquests. You’d think a lousy blowjob was the world’s greatest achievement. That’s all he ever talked about.

His way of teaching me the birds and the bees didn’t consider love and courtship. Shit! He just boldly cautioned me never to fuck a girl I wasn’t willing to marry, but let any girl suck me off to get my ashes hauled instead, or use two rubbers to be safer, or finger fuck them once in a while to give them a thrill, too. If girls are smart, they don’t take chances. Said his sister should have known that. She’d have saved him a lot of trouble and he could have remained in the service, if she had the good sense to suck the guy’s cock instead of letting him fucking her "naked".

Uncle Tony needs a good, steady woman to take care of him, not a nerdy nephew to clean up after him. I figured I’d be doing him a favor by moving out. He’d have to wake up, become more respectable to be worthy of a decent, loving woman to clean up after the mess he always makes, the big slob. No woman with half a brain tolerates a man like him. I plan to keep in touch with him, just to see how he fares, now that I’m on my own. With any luck, he’ll wise up and settle down.

As long as I have a warm hand to masturbate with and some suggestive literature to inspire me, I don’t need to force women to take care of my sexual urges. Men that take advantage of women and treat them like chattel are slugs in my books. Why force yourself on someone for a few minutes of pleasure? As a kid in high school I found out all I needed to know about jacking off from other guys. My mom taught me girls were supposed to be treated nice, not misused and abused.

When I got old enough and adventurous, I soon discovered the mysteries I heard whispered about when I was younger about the neighborhood’s adult bookstores. Near the college I attended, I saw guys I knew from school rush there in a hurry and later show up for class in a totally relaxed frame of mind. I was curious, so I investigated to find out why their demeanor would change so dramatically. I sure found out. If I ever felt the need to have my cock sucked, there were plenty of willing lips to be found at the glory holes in the video booths. What the hell, lips are lips! Queers don’t bother me. I just wasn’t that adventurous. I steered clear of the neighborhood bookstores. I didn’t consider it any better than jacking off.

That is, I didn’t think so, until late one evening a few weeks back. I sampled a few amber nectars to celebrate the successful end of another semester. I spotted one of the same guys I had seen before, entering a bookstore from where I was perched, gazing out of the window of a pub across the street. When he emerged, he headed right across the street into the bar. He seemed to be in a very good mood.

Being tipsy, I decided I’d go see what was so fascinating about getting a blowjob. Sure, sure, I was a late bloomer, but at least I found out for myself what my uncle meant. Getting my cock sucked off was one hell of a lot better than pulling on my pud. Later, I considered the stupid chance I was taking. STD’s! Still, I went back for more, always using protection. A few times, all I got was a lousy hand job, but decided it was better than doing my own hand laundry. There’s something to be said for group therapy. It’s more exciting, with your imagination running loose.

I wasn’t about to molest any girls. The thought of my mother once getting raped and pregnant was enough to turn me off from being a womanizer. I wasn’t about to force myself on any girl and fuck up the rest of my life with a sexual assault or felony rape charge looming over my head, or strap some girl with a kid like me to raise. Besides, I’m not a macho dude, so I’m not popular with the ladies. I’m short and fat, not attractive to women at all. Guess I take after my mom in the looks and personality departments. If I need sexual gratification, the bookstores’ glory holes or my trusty hand will have to do. I don’t have much choice.

One night, after not receiving any attention at the glory holes on either side of the video booth I was in, I got curious and brave. I leaned over to look through one of the glory holes to see why the guy on the other side didn’t make any signal to me. As soon as I did, a guy’s cock came poking through the hole; a sole eye at the tip staring me in the face. I got out of there fast, shaking like a leaf.

The guy in the next booth wasn’t a cocksucker. Like me, he was only interested in getting blown. It never dawned on me that peeking in the three-inch diameter hole would be taken as an invitation for the guy next door to stick his huge cock in my face. I was used to seeing a wagging finger appear in the hole, giving me a curled come-hither signal. Later, I felt stupid about panicking and running out of there. The cat on the other side of the partition was only after the same thing I wanted.

I left behind a pile of coins to keep the "occupied" light lit while my replacement gave the guy in the adjacent booth what he was after. Why should I care if homos like to suck on any hard cock that accepts an offer for unidentified oral attention? It irked me that I was paying for someone else’s use of the booth, only because I got scared as a virgin girl when confronted by a hard cock and bolted out of there.

My new office job had one drawback. Girls everywhere! Yeah, yeah, I know. Plenty of young girls attend classes in evening college. In school, the girls weren’t all gussied up, they already had boyfriends, and other guys who swarmed around the ones that weren’t taken outclassed me. Besides, I was there to learn, not spend all my time and money on courting rituals. That was then.

All the fine young girls in the office are decked out to attract men. I was no longer preoccupied with school, I had a good job, spending money, a modest place of my own, and I had more free time to indulge in making some social contacts within the new vistas that were available in the workplace. It was a far cry from working on a construction site where the only girls around were passersby to be whistled at and hounded by the randy blue collars jerks. So I thought.

Most men working in the office referred to the bullpen that the secretaries filled as a "meat market", and acted like they were official government meat inspectors. The men talked about the prettier girls as if they’d taken every one of them to bed, or gave reasons why they hadn’t. I knew it was only typical male bullshit.

I was used to getting rejections from my earlier attempts at courting. However, if I tried to ask a girl at the office for a date, everyone in the building was sure to find out about it if I got shot down, so I was reluctant to establish a bad reputation for being the kind of guy who can’t get to first base. I chose to hold off asking, until confident a girl in question was likely to accept. Guys can play hard to get, too. On the other hand, the daily parade of quivering flesh had my hormones raging. I was tired of doing my laundry by hand. I simply had to score, one way or another.

So, I cruised an adult bookstore one night. I needed relief. I was even willing to risk going "au natural" to make sure I’d find lips and not a guy’s hand wanking me to orgasm. It didn’t take long. As soon as I whipped my soft cock out, a finger poked through on one side. It was attached to a small hand with well-manicured nails. I stepped closer, and felt the delicate touch against my flaccid cock.

Assured that the protruding hand was receptive, I turned to face the glory hole. The hand reached into my pants and hefted my balls, tickling the underside for half a minute and resumed stroking my cock as imagined a girl would. I looked down and noticed the nails had a shiny finish. Must be a pansy, I thought. Fine, just what I needed: the kind of "fella" who would offer me some tenderness. I figured it was my lucky night. Who cares if he likes to polish his fingernails?

I leaned forward and let my cock enter the next booth. My upper body used the flexing plywood separation for support. Instantly, my cock was slowly taken into a warm and heavenly moist sheath. Wow! That felt gooood! This fag knew what he was doing! I didn’t last a minute. I rapidly pumped my copious load into the eager sucking mouth, hoping that the instantaneous flood of my juices was what the person on the opposite side of the partition desired. Pansies get their pleasure out being able to bring a man off with their oral talent. I knew, because over the past five years, many a guy from a construction crew offered to feed me a load of his cum, figuring me for a pansy, because of my lack of stature and brawn.

I’ll get back to telling about my first blowjob, but first, let me fill you in on why I wasn’t exactly eager to have anyone from my neighborhood discover that I went to satisfy my lust in an adult bookstores. That could spell disaster.

Construction workers think anyone who isn’t pea brained and muscle bound is a faggot and made no bones about me being one. One by one, they’d tell me they’d keep it a secret. All I had to do was to get down on my knees for them in a dark crawlspace between the joists in a corner of a house being built. That way, no one else in the crew could see me giving head. They said they would feed me a nice big load of cum a pansy like me needed to make his day. The first time, I was so shocked, I froze on the spot and turned as red as a beet. It happened after the guy was acting nice to me, unlike the others. He was acting friendly, only so I’d let my guard down. I couldn’t believe the reasoning behind his being so civil. I got mad as hell and called him a queer, insisting he hit on the wrong guy for once.

He laughed in my face, admitting that he liked getting head from cute, soft boys like me, which didn’t make him a queer. He said my being a wimp made me one, so I shouldn’t be surprised at hearing his offer. It was bound to happen. He felt he was only being nice to me and was willing to accommodate me, saying I might as well have what little fun I could out of life, as no women want a man that looked and behaved like I did. They want real men, not some swishy fag, that acts more like a woman than a man. He said I might as well accept the facts and live a little. I would eventually. He was serious! He acted noble about it, as if he was giving me fatherly advice, to accept what nature had intended!

I was appalled, but knew he could bring me no end of grief with the foreman, who was always on my case, so I didn’t dare move from where I was sitting. We were having lunch, off by ourselves. I appreciated his friendly attitude until he leaned over real close and asked me in a whisper if I’d be offended if he thought I gave blowjobs. He stared me right in the face with a crooked smile. I froze.

He said that pansies like me often got to work in construction crews to be around the real men, knowing that the only reason men in construction would put up with working with a pansy was to have a handy way to sow a few wild oats when their women were knocked up or on the rag. I told him in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t the least bit interested, and he’d better not try to bring up the subject again. He merely held up his hand, smiling and said he thought I had nice lips, and once I tried it, I wouldn’t be sorry I did. Claimed it wasn’t his fault if he thought that I was a fag. I looked like one to him. Said things like that happen.

I asked to be reassigned to another journeyman. The crew chief laughed at me. He knew why I asked and denied my curt request, cautioning me not to open up my mouth again unless it was to accept the guy’s invitation. I got two more offers to give other guys a blowjob within a week. Word was getting around. I didn’t want my uncle to find out, so I ignored the offers, figuring they’d tire of harassing me.

They didn’t give up. Within a month, I had at least a dozen similar offers. They used the constant harassment to get try and get rid of me, hoping I’d rather quit than be constantly badgered about being a pansy. If not. I’d give in one day and make one of them happy. After that, they’d be standing in line. No fucking way!

I lost my footing one day, and caught the first guy that asked me for a blowjob in the head with a two-by-four. It was an honest accident, but the guy ended up in a hospital for a week. The oral sex requests ceased, but the rude taunts continued. I’d hear men making smooching sounds behind my back at every turn. Some guys would talk and laugh so that I could see them gesturing, swinging their hips while looking my way, to could get a rise out of seeing me go red in the face. The stupid taunts lasted over two more months until everyone was in on it; everyone but my uncle Tony, or so I thought. He wasn’t a genius, but he wasn’t stupid, either.

One night we had a long talk. Nobody wanted to work with me. He asked why, so I told him. I figured he already knew, so there was no need to try and bullshit him about it. He surprised me, because he didn’t get pissed off at hearing about it. He made me feel as if it would have been okay if I went in for guys, but said I did the right thing. If I gave one guy at work a blowjob, I’d spend my life on my knees.

If I slugged a guy, he’d most likely make mince meat out of me. Instead, accident or not, every guy was wary of me, waiting for the next time I’d slip and brain someone. The crew chiefs weren’t happy about the men in the crew I worked with slacking off. I got assigned to a different crew that had a real pansy. The guy was obvious, flaunting his homosexuality. He even approached me, the cocksucker!

I steered clear of him. I knew he’d try to recruit me sooner or later, if I gave him a half a chance. Luckily, the men figured out that I wasn’t interested, nor was about to be coerced into changing my sexual preference. They had their gay diversion, so they left me alone. They didn’t want me upsetting the applecart.

So, I knew how other men felt about queers and getting a blowjob from them. The few beers I had earlier made me braver than normal. Acting more like other men might give me the courage to be more assertive when approaching a woman for a date. Knowing how a warm pair of lips on my cock felt might inspire me to act. It worked. I was hooked on getting blowjobs, without facing rejection from women.

This particular blowjob put the others to shame. As my cock softened, and the hot rush of emotion subsided, I leaned away from the partition. When I looked down to put my cock away, I saw that my cock was colored a bright red. I used a paper towel the establishment conveniently provided to wipe it off. It was lipstick! This fag had covered my cock with lipstick as he sucked me off! He was one of those female imitators!

Sure enough, a pair of bright red lips was forming a huge "O" at the glory hole. This queer wanted more of my cock. I couldn’t believe how turned on I got by seeing those puffy red lips. I got hard again, faster than I thought possible. With swollen lips like his, I could pretend I was getting head from a girl, something I hadn’t had the pleasure of experiencing in my short adult life.

I was about to turn back toward those thick lips for more and heard the whisper.

"Pssst! Come into my booth. I’ll unlock the door."

The lips disappeared from view. Could be a plot to rob me. I wanted to feel more of the hot suction on my raging cock again, but I wasn’t about to get mugged over my sudden lust for kinky oral sex from a pansy. I decided to scope it out before I made any decision. I squatted down with my arms against the plywood, keeping the glory hole at arms length. I didn’t want a cock to hit me in the eye.

I figured the guy to be a fat slob or ugly as sin. What I saw got my cock harder. In the next booth stood a pretty girl, well, it looked like a girl dressed in a sexy teddy with black thigh-high nylons and stiletto heels. At this angle I couldn’t see her face, but she had a cock, small, but it was a cock. She also had a small pair of tits.

I scooted lower so I could check out her face. She didn’t look bad, but those puffy lips made her look as if she was born to suck on cocks. A quick look at the heavy navy "P" coat draped over the cheap chair in the corner explained how she got here totally undetected by the counter man and other patrons when she came in. The police don’t allow prostitutes to ply their trade in bookstores. They’d shut them down. Free sex isn’t illegal, but Sex for pay is. Whores aren’t welcome.

She played with her tiny tits, twisting her hips, giving me quite a leg show.

"Hurry, I need someone to play with my titties. I’m sooo horny."

I continued to stare. There wasn’t anyone else in her booth visible from where I was looking. If she had someone else in there with her, waiting to pounce on me when I joined her, he was hidden in the corner next to my glory hole. Across her booth, another cock was at the opposite glory hole awaiting her attention. If I didn’t act fast, the hanging cock would soon eliminate my opportunity. What the fuck! Why not? If she did have company in the booth with her, I could close the door and walk away. If she didn’t, I could get to play with her cute little tits while she gave me another blowjob.

I swiftly closed the door behind me, once I was sure the two of us were alone. She took my hands and put them on her meager breasts. This was the first time I held tit flesh. My cock was recovering from the short interval it took to get decent and switch booths. She massaged my cock through my open fly while I toyed with her breasts. With nimble fingers, she unleashed my belt, opened the clasp at the center of my waistband and slipped my pants down to my knees. She wasn’t interested in my wallet. I put it into my inside jacket zippered pocket during my short walk over. Her hands never ran over my hips searching for a wallet’s bulge.

I took off my jacket and laid it over the chair seat. She urged me to sit down, so she wouldn’t have to kneel on the filthy floor, saying she could crouch over me if I was sitting. I sat down on my jacket, protecting my wallet from being pilfered. She straddled my legs and sat right down on top of me, with her legs spread wide to either side. Her rather small cock was brushing up against mine.

Those rosy lips were inches from my face. She looked good for a guy. Hell, she looked good for a girl! "How do you put on makeup in here? Isn’t it too dark?"

"I carry a small lighted mirror in my purse. Want to see it?"

"No, no. I’m just curious. Can you carry everything you need, this whole outfit in that coat? Wig, makeup, the whole schmear?"

"No wig, this outfit fits under my other clothes. The slippers or my shoes fit into pockets at the tops of my coat sleeves. My pants and shirt are under the coat."

"That’s your hair?" She wore it in a curly bobbed, almost a pixie cut.

"Uh-huh! Looks a lot like yours when I comb it out. Neat, huh? I wear a baseball cap to hide the curls. Do you like how I look?"

I gave her a more than casual once-over to appear sincere. My cock was getting hot to trot. She didn’t have a prominent Adam’s apple, but then, neither did I. If I didn’t see her rather puny cock earlier, I’d think she was a girl. Her tits weren’t real big, but some girls’ aren’t. "Real nice. Very authentic."

"Sure. That’s what they all say, but thanks anyway. I want you to know, I saw you across the street and followed you in here. You’re cute. I wanted to meet you."

"You did? I didn’t see you. I’d have noticed, even if you were fully dressed."

"I was outside and saw you through the window. I don’t have any money to spend in bars. Besides, I’m not old enough to drink."

Oh, oh! "How old are you?"

"Oh, don’t worry. I’m nineteen. You have to be twenty-one to drink, though."

"Nineteen! How long have you been dressing up like a girl?"

"It started six months ago." The video went dead, and the lights got bright. I could see that he had a very faint beard shadow under her war paint. "Oops. The time’s run out. Do you have any singles on you? They’ll probably start hammering on the door soon if we don’t feed more money into the machine."

"I know. I only have five or so in my pants."

"Two will be enough for me to get dressed if you have someplace we can go and you’d like my company. Believe it or not, this is the first time that I did this sort of thing in a porn shop. I’ve been in a few pornographic videos, but I never saw them under these conditions until now. I’m kind of desperate at the moment and I think I can trust you. You won’t be sorry, I promise. You could be a great help to me if you’ll let me explain."

I hesitated, naturally. Here’s a guy who just sucked my cock, asking me to take him home with me. If that doesn’t sound like a set-up to get rolled, I don’t know what does. Yet, he seemed honest about it. "Why are you so desperate?"

"I’m flat broke, and I don’t have anywhere to stay. Until I can get a job and make some money, I need a place to crash. I’ll do whatever you want me to do if you’ll just let me spend the night with you. I’m dead on my feet, but I’ll show you a real good time. I’m too tired to spend another sleepless night faking being stranded at the airport, train station or a bus depot. The cops give me the creeps. Interested?"

"I don’t know. Seems to me you can make a bundle in that outfit under the right conditions. How did you end up stalking me? Why not go to a pick-up bar?"

"Do you think I was stalking you? I wasn’t. I spotted you through the window. I didn’t have the courage to go inside to approach you. They could call the cops if I came up and bothered you in the bar. You look like the kind of guy that knows what it’s like to be me. It’s a long story. I’ll tell it to you here, if you want to feed the machine for the next hour or so, but I’d much rather we got out of here. Do you have a car? We can park someplace and I’ll tell you my entire tale of woe."

"No, but we can go to a snack shop if you’re hungry, or grab a cab and go straight to my place. It isn’t far, and there are a few nicer places where we can eat near my place. I attend college two nights a week near here. I just got my final grades and went out after class to tip a few brews to celebrate. I was going to take a cab home soon anyway. I don’t often ride public transportation after I’ve been drinking. It’s way too risky, even though I don’t have much money on me. "

"Mmmm, a hot meal sounds real good right now. I haven’t eaten decent food for days. Would you be willing to buy me dinner? Carryout would do, if you don’t want to be seen with me by anyone. I’d really appreciate it and show you a real good time, later. You’ll be glad you did. " He/she started to get dressed.

"How about discussing it while we eat? If I decide not to take you home with me, I’ll spot you enough to spend the rest of the evening in a bar, until some guy can take you home. If I buy your story, you can spend the night. Fair enough?"

"You’re a lifesaver. You know you won’t be sorry."

"Stop saying that. I haven’t heard your story yet and that’s the main reason why I’m willing to take you out to dinner. You have my curiosity on hyper-drive. I just got a place of my own and I’ve never had an overnight guest. I had to get away from my uncle’s place for that very same reason. He was always bringing home different girls. I’m not going to be like him, screwing everything in sight."

"You didn’t refuse me in here?" He pointed to the glory hole. In a bed, we can be a lot more comfortable and not be in a hurry. What’s wrong with that?"

"I was horny. It’s been a while since I --- never mind. Take a good look at me. Do I look like a heartthrob to you? I’m used to rejection. I don’t know how to handle someone throwing herself at me. It’s never happened to me before. It’s worse than a rejection. Makes me feel as if something is wrong, and I should get my ass out of here before it’s too late. Accept dinner with me. We can talk about it. Okay?"

"That’s fair. We can tell each other our woes." He was all done dressing up (he, because that’s how he looked now after wiping off the lipstick with the provided paper towels). He looked sort of male in the sweater and jeans. He asked me to walk out first. If I weren’t waiting for him when he got outside, he’d understand. He was going to go to the john to wash up, and be out in a few minutes. That all but wiped out a gnawing fear I had deep in my gut about his rolling me. He knew I could run off, if I didn’t trust him. I had to hear his story, first.

"I’ll call for a cab from the pub across the street. Meet me inside. I’ll tell the guy watching the door to keep an eye out for a shrimp in a "P" coat. The bouncer goes to school with me. He won’t card you. Since you claim you don’t have any money I don’t have to worry about you going nuts and ordering a dozen drinks. Do I?"

"At a hundred and fifteen pounds, a single drink on my empty, empty stomach would put me out cold. Don’t order anything to drink that would delay the dinner you promised. I haven’t eaten in two days."

We decided on a pizza in the cab. "I haven’t had pizza in nearly a year," he said with glee. I wondered what kind of rock he was living under all that time. I had to have a sausage and mushroom pizza nearly once a week. How can anyone survive without pizza at least once a month? It was un-American. His story had better be good. I was starting to think he was pulling my leg. No one goes without pizza.

He ate more than his half, and drank most of a pitcher of diet cola. I was still full of beer, so I didn’t mind. I shook my head, thinking about eating pizza with "diet" anything. Why bother? With half a pizza in you, what difference would a quarter cup of corn syrup make? They don’t use raw sugar in soda anymore, according to Uncle Tony. Maybe my new friend was resistant to anything slimy that didn’t come out of a hard cock.

He leaned back in the booth and sucked on the two straws in the soda glass with his fattened lips. I got a woody watching him. Spiting out the straw as he closed his eyes and caught his breath, he ran his tongue over those beauties and my rod surged. If he suggested it, I’d let him crawl under the table and do me right there.

"So, where should I start? How I got here, or how I got to look like a tomboy girl?

I can’t move, so I’ll start at the beginning. It won’t take me long. You’ll have to trust me. I don’t think I can prove any of this easily. Hope I won’t bore you"

"Try me. I’m a good listener. I can hardly wait to hear this."

"I was in Florida last winter to take advantage of the climate. I’d been on the road for three months when I got down there, trying to live off the land. It isn’t easy to find work in Florida if you’re on the street. There are too many old timers that’ll work for peanuts. I was dropping ‘ludes’, so I didn’t give a damn about anything for some time. As long as it wasn’t dangerous, I was wiling to give it a shot.

I needed to make a score, so I was slinging burgers down in Fort Myers to raise some cash. There are a lot of restaurants and a lot of carefree tourists around. I wasn’t above skimming off of their change to fatten up my stash. Being kind of cute for a guy, I preferred to work at the hotels at the cabanas around the pools, but I got caught with my hand in a purse, so I was banned. They didn’t have me arrested, but they took my picture and all the big hotels got a copy. Bummer.

Gays can make a few extra bucks giving blowjobs to old farts. Gives them a thrill to get some young guy down on his knees. I just got canned from a restaurant, so

I was hanging out on the pier hoping to get picked up. There are glory holes in the best hotels and restaurants. Giving head is the national pastime down there.

Anyway, a great looking guy about forty years old or so picked me up. He got what he paid for and gave me fifty bucks. He asked if I was interested in making some big money, like twenty grand. I laughed and told him I wasn’t interested in killing anyone. Otherwise, I was all ears.

He said I had good looks he’d pay me two grand pop to appear in skin flicks. Ten movies and I’d get the twenty grand having all the wild sex with men and women that I could handle. I thought he was joking, but he opened a briefcase and pulled out a stack of stills of good-looking guys and gals going at it. For that kind of cash I’d suck off an elephant. It’s a good thing I didn’t mention that to him.

Then, he offered me a hundred bucks just to meet at his lawyer’s office to go over the "standard" actors contracts to prove he wasn’t scamming me. If I was worried about being recognized, he guaranteed that with proper makeup and professional cosmeticians, no one would know me. He even told me to get myself a booking agent of my choice out of the phone book to come along to represent me. Most actors use agents to insure a deal was up and up and required the producers to post surety bonds to guarantee payments due to the actors. I fell for it, hook, line and sinker. For ten percent of twenty grand, some agents will swear to anything.

I met the actresses and actors, all knockout broads with huge tits and guys with equipment like I never saw. The producer threw a big orgy to celebrate forming a new production company. I woke up in a clinic two months later with a nose bob, shaved goiter, a pair of tits and these lips and cheeks filled with collagen to make me look feminine. I still looked like a guy, but barely. It’s what they wanted

What I didn’t know was the contract gave them the right to improve my looks to enhance my stage image in accordance with the role I was to play. I was just old enough to stupidly consent to the surgery that was necessary. I found out the hard way what he meant when he said nobody would ever be able to recognize me. My mother and father couldn’t.

It’s a good thing they wanted me to keep my cock and balls in the flicks. They could have gelded me if they wanted to. I had a blast doing the ten flicks, having wild sex with all the bull studs who fucked my ass silly while the girls were only used to set me up in most of the stories, or act as helpers. I loved every minute of the sex part. Hell, I swing both ways. The sex was the only good part of the deal.

I think I got to fuck two or three girls while I could still get it up. All the "ludes" they fed me daily were laced with female hormones. Then, when the shooting was over, I found out I still had to pay for the surgery out of what was due to me and still owed them thirty-five grand. To break even, I had to do at least a dozen more skin flicks for them, requiring a new contract.

I signed on for ten more flicks but got my own lawyer to go over the contracts to see if there were any more surprises in store for me. I figured I was in for a penny, in for a pound. I then found out from one of the girls that they were planning to give me great big hooters and use liposuction to suck out my stomach fat and put it on my hips to make me look completely like a girl. I’d never be able to pass for a guy again. I stole all the money out of the purses in the dressing room two weeks ago and got on a bus and got the hell out of there as fast as I could. I ran out of money three days ago. That’s about it. I’m broke and fucked up for life.

What’s your story?"

"Nothing, nothing at all."

In the cab, you said we had a lot in common. What gives?"

"Well, in comparison to what happened to you, I led a charmed life. I worked in construction until a few months ago. The guys made fun of me because of how I look. They called me a pansy and wanted me to give them blowjobs. I thought I was in a living hell with those guys, until I heard your story. They were tame in comparison to that producer who got a hold of you. I was lucky."

"You mean you aren’t gay, don’t you? You never tried it."

"French passive a few times. Even that bothers me. I’m surrounded by pretty girls at work that won’t give me the time of day. I went to the bookstore tonight to get rid of my pent up urges. Even there, all I usually get is a hand job. I got carried away when I saw you and didn’t use a rubber like I usually do.

How can you live with being willing to let a man stick his cock into you? To me,

It’s like denying that you’re a man. It’s how women are expected to act, not men."

"Easy. When I go down on a guy, I make believe I’m a girl. I don’t like gay men. Macho guys that want women to give them head give me a rush. I look enough like a girl to let them fantasize. It’s kinky. Some guys like me better. They don’t have to worry about hang-ups over abusing some broad. As a girl, I get my jollies too. Sometimes, since they pumped me full of hormones, I don’t shoot a wad, but I get deep rolling sensations that last and last, just like women. I know it’s all in my head, but shit, who cares?"

"Try to keep your voice down, Pat. We’re the only people left in here, and I think the owners want to close up. It’s late and they keep looking over this way. You can stay the night at my place with me if you want, but I won’t hold you to keep your end of the bargain. I don’t need frequent sexual release. Consider what we did at the bookstore and your story about what happened to you as full payment.

You made me feel good about sticking to my guns and not giving in to those jerks in construction all those years. That alone was worth a lot more than you think. I may be soft and pudgy, but I still prefer girls. Watching girls all dressed up every day gets me all hot and bothered. I just wish one would give me a tumble."

Once in my apartment, I put on a pot of coffee while Pat went to the john. When she came out, she was only wearing the sexy teddy she woe in the bookstore. I see you only have one double bed. I’ve been sleeping in a chair for the last several nights. I can’t remember what a bed feels like, hint, hint."

"I can sleep on the lounge chair. I’ve done it dozens of times watching television.

You can have the bed for the night, Pat."

"I know how you feel. As a guy, I never got laid. In drag, at least I had the chance to go to bed with girls a few times. So, I had a lot of sex with guys. That was fun, too. I think you might feel differently after tonight. I want you spend the night in bed with me. If you don’t mind, I want you to fuck me tonight. I can give as good or better than any girl for the right guy. You can’t push a wagon up a hill with a rope, so if I don’t get you hot and bothered, nothing will happen. If I can, we’ll find out if you really need a girl to get off. Maybe the image will suffice."

She put down her cup of coffee and took me by the hand. When I held her in my arms, it was obvious that she was right. I was responding to the feminine image that stood before me. Hesitantly, I let her kiss me. Her red lips were so soft and moist. Then, I kissed her back to let her know I was interested. Her tongue found its way into my mouth, and I recollected how good it felt when her tongue was whipping around the head of my cock.

We hit the bed while still holding on to one another. I was on the bottom and she was all over me. She licked me everywhere, until I could hold back no longer. In a flash she was sitting on top of me, putting my cock into her hot crack. I was wet from her kisses on my cock and the sticky pre-cum that was now flowing out of me of its own accord. Her butt was as tight as a vise, but she slowly let my cock sink into her. I expected her to ride me like a bull. Instead, she slowly rocked back and forth, sending wild muscle spasms throughout my body. She gently popped my male cherry. I had human flesh gripping my cock for the first time.

She put a pillow behind my head to support it while she lowered a small tit to my lips. Her rocking motion caused her hard nipple to sink in between my lips. With a swoosh of her escaping breath, she let all of her little weight land on my thighs, moaning like the girls in the porn movies I’d seen. Damned if she didn’t act just like a girl. I closed my eyes and imagined this wasn’t a guy that looked like a girl but a real girl instead.

I didn’t last a minute. I saw shooting stars and rainbows and fireworks like on the fourth of July. I must have pumped a gallon into her. After I was done and went soft, I continued to kiss and nuzzle her tiny boobs to show how I appreciated her tender embrace. She lay on top of me with my limp dick firmly seated in her hot rectum. After a while, she slowly got up, went to the john, and returned with a hot facecloth and cleaned my cock.

She soon fell asleep. I knew she was tired, and I had a lot to think over. She didn’t have any place to go to. If I allowed her stay with me to cook and clean the place, I’d have more time available to devote to my studies. She was so small I doubted she could eat much on a regular basis, not like tonight.

It might be years before a real girl would give me a tumble. In the meantime, Pat could take the boredom out of my dreary existence. He proved that he could fuck as well as any girl as far as I was concerned. Hell, I didn’t have to wear a rubber. He can’t get knocked up. We’ll see. Maybe it won’t be as good the next time.

Tomorrow was Saturday. No work. We could spend the morning in bed. Would I be up for it? I went to sleep knowing I’d wake up to discover if she was willing to try her magic on me again. If she didn’t, at least I knew what a fuck was like, even if it was up her ass. It felt damned good.

I awoke to the sound of the shower water running. When the water turned off, she returned to my bedroom stark naked. In the daylight she looked frail. She fucked me like a bunny! Then she got on her knees between my legs and sucked me until I got hard again. Then she got on top of me and continued to suck me with her plump rump in my face.

"Go ahead, kiss it. It’s squeaky clean."

I stuck my nose into her ass crack. It smelled nice, so I kissed each cheek a few times. She pushed back and let the crease of her ass find my nose. She came off of my cock for a moment.

"Kiss my rosebud. You’ll be surprised. It isn’t funky. It tastes like a pussy."

I kissed her anus and saw it pucker when she pulled away. "God that feels good!"

I kissed it again and let my tongue touch the wrinkled skin. It pulled hard on my tongue. Wow! She could flex her anus to capture my tongue. No wonder it felt so good on my cock. I was hard as a rock. She shifted again, and I saw her tight little nuts up against the underside of her little soft cockette. "Kiss my clit, honey."

I felt no shame. She was so willing to bring me pleasure. Why shouldn’t I do what she wanted me to do? No one would ever know. I grabbed her soft hips and pulled her to me, letting my tongue glide along the cute little "clit." It felt hot against my tongue. I pulled her back further and lowered her cockette into my wide-open mouth. Then, I slowly closed my lips around it and applied some suction.

Hmmm. The world didn’t come to an end. It felt alright, no it felt good. I could feel her flex the muscles in her buns and the shaft twitched inside my mouth. I was getting her off. She whispered: "Match me" and resumed sucking my cock.

She came first. I wasn’t about to let her stop what she was doing to my cock, so I let her dribble into my throat. I knew how it tasted. I tasted my own spunk a few times. Hers was light and not as salty as mine. Before she stopped spurting, she took me deep into her throat and I exploded in a massive orgasm, with her little cockette as far into my mouth as I could get it. It was fantastic. She gulped and bobbed, gasping for breath until I was again as soft as she was. We collapsed in a pile. She rolled off of me and came back to snuggle in my arms. We stayed that way for a long time, not moving.

"See, you don’t need to chase any girls. Girls can’t do that for you. If that was your first time, you have hidden talent. You were fabulous, honey. Say, what is your name? I can’t keep calling you honey, although your juice tastes as good as honey as far as I’m concerned."

"Tad. Tad Luto."

"Nice name. Has a nice ring to it. Tad Luto. I use Pam for my fem name. You can use Tabby, or Tab, short for Tabetha, or Tammy."

"Tammy? Why?"

"Remember how good it felt when I lowered myself onto your cock? Well it feels nicer the other way around. Once the hormones wear off, I’ll return the favor."

"Whoa! No way, Jose! No guy’s gonna fuck my ass!"

"Are you sure? It feels a lot better being the fuckee than the fucker, Tammy. In a few months, when the hormones wear off, I’ll be able to get a hard on again. If we’re still friends, I show you how good being a girl can be."

"A few months? I was about to offer you the run of the place until you find a job and can get a place of your own, Pat."

"Pam. Call me Pam."

"Okay, like I was saying. You can cook and clean for me for your keep. That’ll give me more time to study, so I can get ahead in school while you get situated. If you want, you can move out any time you feel you’re ready."

"What if I don’t want? You’re the best thing ever happened to me. Maybe we can get along. I’d like to try. No promises, but your cock feels like divine in my chute. No guy, even the muscle-bound studs from the porno’s with sledge hammer sized cocks feel as good as you. Why not give it a shot for a while? I’ll get some kind of job and pay my own way. If you tire of me, we’ll call it quits. Deal?"

"Sure. There’s nothing to stop us. As long as you keep looking like a girl, we can fool all the neighbors into thinking we’re shacking up. The joke will be on all the assholes from where I used to work. We’ll doll you up and wave you under their noses, laughing our asses off."

"We will be shacking up!"

"Yeah, I suppose we will."

"You wait. Before long, you’ll make them jerks sorry they ever made fun of you. I’ve got a great idea. I’ll bet I can doll you up too. We’ll get them drooling after your body and mine. Then we’ll leave them hanging, high and dry. Wouldn’t that be a blast? Pam and Tam, the prick teases of the neighborhood."

"Nice fantasy, but how do I go to work? I can’t look like you without getting the major surgery you had. I’d have to quit my job. I’d like to rub their noses in some shit, but it’s too far fetched."

"Not if we have access to a computer. There are cyber stores on the Internet that cater to girls like me. You can get everything you need, even a total makeover. In no time, we can have you looking soft and pretty. Then we’ll cruise the men in the area together. When they discover what we have hidden in our panties, they’ll shit in their pants after they give us some tongue to get our motors running! I can see it now. Perfect revenge for the way they treated you."

"Why does it seem so appealing? Do you really think we could pull it off?"

"Are you kidding? Why do think I picked you out? You’re a natural!"

Well, we did pull it off. It took over a year, but we fixed their corks, every one of the assholes I once worked with. In time, I found that I liked dressing up as much as Pam and loved the taste of cum.

We sucked an awful lot of cock with Pam as my mentor. She even got my Uncle Tony to take her home with him one night. He didn’t bat an eye when he found out what she had hidden under her skirt. Funny thing, she said it must run in my family. Uncle Tony gives great head and finally got a chance to do it. Go figure.

 

The End.

 

 

 

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