Sneak Peak: Constant 2 - Interlude; what happened at Dan's place (Patreon)

It was a pretty good week for writing: polished off an earlier scene (David and Jonathon visitng the Tank), setting up a crucial moment that should explain some later scenes.  And worked through David's account of what happened that night at Dan's.  It's by far the most explicit scene I've written for Constant.  Considering the nature of the story and the genre, there really hasn't been that much... smut? is that the right word? at least as the focus of the narrative.  To date it's usually been short scenes or flashbacks. In any case, it was a fun challenge to write.  It's still in a rough form and likely to change a bit in the final edit, but I'll be curious to see what you think of it. 

***

“Can we talk about Dan?”

David grimaced, a cute wrinkling of the nose, and sighed. “I don’t know,” he said. “It’s embarrassing.” He wrapped his arms around his slender frame and shivered. “And humiliating.”

Crystal reassured her patient, and slowly he warmed into a retelling of the night. He told her about Dan, the young man from Volumina International that had flirted with him from his earliest days there. The playful banter leading to an unexpected night out at Noir, a trendy local hotspot. “It wasn’t a date,” he insisted, and at first they spent the night talking, and he enjoyed the human company after weeks alone. And then drinking; too many drinks and ending up sat on the man’s lap, posing for a picture and—kissing him.

“One second I was looking into the camera, the next I turned my head and…,” he grimaced. “His tongue was down my throat like a rat down a sewer drain.”

Crystal nodded.

“And then I felt his hardon poking me in the ass,” David said.

“How did that make you feel?”

He laughed, though without humour. “I ran to the bathroom,” he said, “cried and threw up.” Which is how he met Julia, this woman from his past who seemed intent to push him into new feminine experiences. She pushed David into agreeing, under duress, to a date some weeks later with Dan.

As Crystal made her own notes to follow up later, David continued. Despite his occasional reluctance as he relived moments from the night, he almost seemed… relieved, to talk through the experience. He spoke of getting ready for the date, showering and shaving, and the peculiar embarrassment he felt at slathering himself in shimmering body lotion that left his body sparkling a luminous. Then he described his shame at sliding into the straps and lace of lingerie, slithering into a little black dress, the makeup and hair and drinking and chat with the other woman—a shame he admitted was tempered somewhat by the fact that there’d also been something fun, something exciting in the ritual of feminine preparation. The moment he slid his feet into the delightful arch of heels and stood, swaying slightly, and posed and pirouetted for Julia, he admitted to feeling trapped, like the ongoing misery of a tourist trapped in a holiday gone wrong to a foreign destination they can’t escape.

But he also felt a thrill, a delight rooted in pride, and a tingling deep in his belly to rival the nausea, at just how damn sexy he looked—at the hungry gleam he provoked in Julia’s eyes, in his own, a hunger that led her to grab and pin him up against the wall and forced him to primp and repair his lipstick in the mirror several minutes later.

He skimmed over the details of the date itself, arriving early, his date arriving late, drinks and conversation, sharing the meal—and again, how he began to enjoy himself despite the constant frustration of playing a part he abhorred, enjoying the company if not necessarily his role in it.

And then tears, arousal and frustration and anger; and another kiss. Crystal noted the intensity of his emotional swings. Something to raise with Jonathon, she thought.

Then the date ended.

“I walked with him to his place,” he said. “I was pretty drunk by this time and knew I should just get the hell out of there. But I was also kind of having fun, and then—I don’t know.” David shook his head. “I let him kiss me.”

“Let him?” Crystal asked.

David blushed. “It was fucking cheesy, but I’ll give the guy credit, he dropped the right line at the right time. I could’ve just walked away but instead I…” he shrugged. “I can’t lie to myself here. It wasn’t the booze and he didn’t force me. I didn’t start it but—I don’t know, it was like rewarding him for a game well played. He took it from there.”

Crystal nodded. She noted the discomfort in her patient, but also the desire to continue sharing. She was pleased by this newfound openness, and not entirely surprised. It was an entirely reasonable response to the experience of the previous days. His encounter with Jonathon’s special patient had rattled David—left him pensive. She suspected it forced him to more deeply consider the consequences of his life as Cindy, a life that might endure longer than he might have hoped.

His eyes were unfocussed as he relived that evening, and his hands fluttered in his lap.

“He kissed me and I didn’t pull away. It’s not like I wanted to, you know, kiss another guy… but he deserved it, right? At the end of the night, where he’s paid the bill and made the effort to show me a good night out…” He shrugged. “A kiss is the least he’d expect. The very least. Hell, I’d have expected a hell of a lot more from a girl—usually got it, too.”

As always, Crystal stilled her personal reactions to a patient’s words, but something must’ve shown. He frowned and his reply sounded defensive. “Hey, I’ve never forced a girl to do anything she didn’t want. But when a guy picks up the bill for the night with some chick he barely knows, of course he’s got expectations. First couple of dates, you barely know each other, right?  You’re not there for the conversation. And it’s not like girls doesn’t know the game, either. I can’t tell you how many—sexy, vapid, boring little bitches—have done their best to drain my wallet, and you better damn believe I was happy to play along so long as they drained my balls afterwards.”

“And were you?” Crystal asked, drily. “Happy to drain his balls afterwards?”

David’s eyes darkened. “No,” he said. He stared at the table for some time before continuing. “No,” he repeated. “Even though I knew that’s where this was heading. Which is why I just stood there and let him have his fun. It was—one of the weirdest experiences of my Cindy life, one of the most uncomfortable. For a moment, it was almost like watching from the outside, and I could see this guy slobbering over this girl, groping and grabbing her as she stood and rolled her eyes and stared into the distance. But that girl was me, and then I was back inside and living it, and I forced her… myself to respond, to… act, and I was about to break away and leave, when… well, you know.”

Crystal waited, and when he didn’t continue, prompted him. “Yes?”

He shrugged. “Steele’s man. Jeff—or whatever his real name is.  The guy who’s been shadowing me since the start. And just like when he approached me at the start of the date, I knew I had to make the illusion as real as possible, had to be convincing.

“So with that creep watching I knew I couldn’t just walk away, couldn’t turn Dan down without appearing suspicious, and so I agreed, I fucking agreed to go up to his condo even though I knew, I damn well knew what I means when a girl follows a guy up to his place after a night out for just another drink.”

Crystal nodded and suppressed the urge to interrupt, sensing that what followed was of utmost importance to David; and yet she hoped that Katherine, or even Jonathon was monitoring the conversation.

The very pretty man opposite her reached into his handbag and rummaged around. He pulled out a little makeup bad. “It’s strange,” he said. “I don’t really want to talk about the next bit.” Crystal waited, and he sighed. “But at the same time, I do, I really do.  I didn’t even tell Jules what happened, you know.

“And I’m not used to this crap, this touchy-feely bullshit, talking and sharing feelings so much.” He glared at her, almost accusingly, but then his expression softened into a lopsided grin. “But you know, maybe it’s helping, just a bit.”

He shrugged. “But it’s not easy, and… and I’m nervous and it’s weird but recently, I don’t know why, but this shit—” and he pulled a lipstick from the bag and gestured with it, “—the makeup, I dunno, I find it calming.” His smile was a little sad, twisted with self disgust, a wan apology. “I hope you don’t mind.”

She watched as this man, at first with a slight tremble in his hands but then with calm confidence touched up his makeup. He repainted his lips a dark, matte cherry red and applied a coat of mascara and seemed to visibly relax as he continued the little ritual of beauty. “I don’t know why,” he said, glancing up at her from behind his reflected image on his phone. “But it helps.”

Crystal nodded and waited.

“So when Dan took me by the hand and brought me into the building, I didn’t resist,” David said, closing his handbag with a little snap and stowing it at his feet. He sat straight backed in his seat, hands on the table between then, fingers splayed. He affixed her with a penetrating gaze that bordered on unnerving. “I pretended to not see the little wink the concierge gave him on the way in.

“And yeah, he was all over me the moment we stepped into the elevator. He took me around the waist and pulled me close and kissed me and—and I kissed him back. His hand roamed over my tits, grabbed my ass and the other was at the back of my head and he held me close and we fell back against the elevator wall, he had me pinned there and the whole time I could feel his dick jabbing into me. And I touched it, I stroked him through his trousers and smiled because… because what else could I do? When he went to kiss me again I pulled back and the door dinged and we fell out into the hallway to his apartment, shushing and giggling like teenagers making out with grown-ups in the next room.

“His apartment was… nice, like really nice, very open concept and way beyond what I’d expect a guy his age to have, but then the steak, the wine… it was clear this kid was loaded, or at least his parents were. My reaction confused him, I think. He was obviously used to surprising visitors he brought home, impressing the panties off girl he brought back to his place and… I wasn’t that impressed, I guess, at this watered-down version of what I’d had just six months ago.”

Davd paused, as though contemplating what he’d lost, before giving a little shake of the head before continuing.

“He poured us drinks, white wine he pulled from a wine fridge, and he dimmed the lights and put on some smooth music, and I almost laughed. But only for a moment, because now that we were in his place I was thinking, how the hell do I get out of here? We touched glasses and drank our wine. It was a good wine, nice and dry, expensive stuff. I drank it in big gulps. He poured me another and we talked for a bit, but it was that awkward kind of empty small talk that fills the space when you know you’re really there for something other than conversation.

“By this time his arm was back around my waist. He’s been stroking my knee through my stockings but now he held me close. His finger traced my spine, followed the small zipper that sealed me into that dress, danced down my bare shoulders, rested on the curve of my ass.  His hand felt heavy, you know, and strong over the thin fabric and the underwear beneath. His thumb traced the edge of my stockings and snapped the garter and he called me a naughty girl.”

David shivered.

“I leaned into him. I had to because in a moment his hand was going to try and go places it couldn’t. I wiggled in closer to Dan, and he kissed my ear, my neck; his tongue trailed along my collarbone. With one hand I still held the empty wineglass, and the other I pressed up against his chest. I remember being startled by how bright, how vivid and colourful my nails seemed against his shirt. How long they seemed, and shaped, the softness of the pink and his crisp whiteness. Were those really my fingers? I remember thinking. They seemed so—feminine—set against the masculine flatness of Dan’s chest.

“Dan took my glass, put it down, and I still see them, those two glasses, side by side, the one stained by the pink print of my lips. He took me by the wrist and held my hand to his mouth and kissed my fingers, one by one. And I saw the desire in his eyes, but more, I saw the—satisfaction, the smugness at his victory.

Then he had me by both wrists, and I felt vulnerable, trapped, as he kissed my neck again—suddenly aware of his strength, how slim my arms were in his grasp. It only lasted a second, but for that second I felt—afraid? Like a hollowness in my belly, even as a half-dozen ways I could take him down flashed past my eyes.

“So I pulled away and he let me go. I asked for more wine, to buy time, to help see me through this; and my free hand brushed against the prick tenting his lap, the one that’d been jabbing me in the belly just a moment before.  He smiled. With bubbles of hysteria popping in my head, I smiled back and told him I needed a few minutes, that I needed to freshen up and you know, I almost lost it then, almost cracked at delivering a line I’d heard from the other side so often.

“Thinking about it now, I’m amazed I didn’t snap. I was pretty close to—I don’t know. Losing my shit, collapsing, screaming, hitting him, running from the room—I don’t know. Instead, I walked calmly into this guy’s bathroom and locked the door, thinking, what the fuck am I doing?

“That’s around when it hit me just how drunk I really was. Everything gets a bit hazy from that point on, impressions, more like snapshots than a film, if you know what I mean. Foggy. I remember staring at myself in the mirror over the sink. Smeared lipstick. Wide eyes and remembering, remembering who I used to be, but disjointed, confused. And feeling sick, not like I was going to throw up but something deeper, a nausea deep in my bones. For a moment it felt as though I was about to hyperventilate. But then—

“I don’t know. A switch flipped.” David snapped his fingers. “The panic and fear retreated. Instead of freaking out I slipped out my heels and unzipped and wiggled out of that dress and went for a piss. God, how I just wanted to strip out of everything, I felt bloated and pinched in and overheated and uncomfortable and—fed up. But I gave my balls a few minutes to breathe, let everything hang out as I sat and took a piss. I washed my hands and padded around the small room in my stockinged feet.

“I rummaged around a bit. You can tell a lot about someone from their bathroom. It was classy, very modern, lots of mirrors, glass and exposed brick, recessed lighting. Very chic, bit pretentious for a kid his age. Checked the cabinet and found the usual guy stuff, deodorant and toothpaste and a razor, but also more pills than I would’ve expected, pain killers, anti-depressants—I might’ve popped something, I’m not sure.

“There was also a single tube of lipstick, hiding behind some hand cream.

“Why was it there? Did he have a girlfriend? Was it left behind by a previous conquest – why’d he keep it? Cherry Whispers: a deep, rich red, mature and matte, seductive. I looked at it as like it was some kind of message in a bottle, or a dispatch behind enemy lines, woman to woman.

“I took the lipstick; I don’t know why, but I stole it. Then I went back to the mirror and touched up my makeup and I felt strangely calm, detached, leaning over the sink in my underwear in some guy’s bathroom, fixing the damages of the night.

“Then I finally found the willpower to slide back into those skyscraper heels and tape my cock back again, extra secure for the finale, right? I didn’t tuck; there was no way I was going to get my balls back up inside, not in that state, but so long as I kept his hands under control, I reckoned it’d be okay.  Then it was time to pay the piper, as they say.”

He sighed. Staring blankly into the middle distance, he went silent, and Crystal noted a slight tremble to his lower lip. After a long moment, he gave himself a little hug, and smiling ruefully, continued.

“Something happened, then. I don’t know if I can really explain it, describe it in a way that makes sense. But there was a… moment, you know, a strange one. As I reached down for the dress, and stepped into it, carefully, I didn’t want to tear the thing with those heels. And I glanced up, and saw myself in a mirror, damn thing nearly took up half the wall.”

He frowned. “It was as though, in that moment, everything stopped, stopped and came into focus. The world froze, and I saw myself, daintily stepping into that tight little dress, half-naked in some guy’s bathroom, half-naked wearing panties and bra, heels and stockings, suspenders and waist-cincher, all those straps, bows, lace, tight fabric and mesh, midnight black and crimson.

“The smells and sounds, feelings, it all washed over me in that moment, a symphony of sensations that left me suspended in the moment. The tight grip around the waist, breath of cool air across breasts, sudden goosepimples, the sound of Dan beyond the door, his sturdy steps in the kitchen and a shift in the music, something—blue, rolling and smooth, piano and bass—and strawberry and rose, lingering from the hand soap, the shimmer of colour at my fingertips. A hint of his cologne, sandalwood and smoke. A tickle of lace. Sensual slickness, the slither of stockings against the tightness of the dress, the stretch of the suspender across my bum; and the taste of my own lips.

“And in that caress of impressions I saw myself and wondered—is that me? And then: how is this me? Those curves and clothes, all that softness, the heavy fullness of breasts in their cups, stepping half in and half out of a woman’s little dress, and makeup: the reflection mocked me in its honesty.”

His nose wrinkled in an expression of confusion or disgust. “It literally took my breath away. As in, I felt light-headed for a moment. The contrast between the lingerie and skin—what you could see of it, anyway—the pale flesh of my thighs, the narrow band between bra and waspie, shoulders, tits; God, suddenly, I wanted this girl in -my- bathroom, getting herself ready for -my- pleasure, and—”

He shook his head as though in disbelief at the memory.

“But it was me. That girl was—me; and… how was that possible? Six months! Six months to go from a guy who had it all, to go from David to… this girl, preening for some prick waiting in the other room.”

He trailed off for a moment.

“So I watched this girl zipper herself back into her outfit, and the reflection jolted me back into the moment. I saw this girl—saw myself—and was fucking -hot-, I’d lost track of just how goddamn sexy I was. And something grew inside of me—an anger, frustration, something… dark; I couldn’t name it, but I fairly vibrated with this feeling.

“If this—thing—was going to happen, if I was going to do what came next, then it was going to happen on my terms, I thought. With a final wiggle, a little squeeze of the tits putting them on display, I stalked up to that mirror, wiped my mouth clean and reapplied the forgotten lipstick I’d stolen. I don’t know why, and that moment really stuck in my mind, the image of my face in the mirror, pale, leaning in close, framed by hoop earring and painting in those dark, red lips.

“Then I rode that swell of emotion back to Dan.

“He was waiting, standing next to the sofa, shirt half-unbuttoned, a large glass of wine and a tumbler of something that might’ve been whiskey waiting on a side table. He drank me in as I left the safety of the bathroom. Did he notice the colour of my lips? I don’t know. He clearly liked what he saw, though. He went to speak but with a single glossy fingertip held to red lips, I silenced him.

“And stalking towards him, ass swaying, the click of heels on hardwood sounded loud in my ears. I felt hot under his devouring eyes. Music whispered and I thrummed with insane confidence, with a different kind of desire as I reached him, and my hands slid in under his shirt, nails raking his skin as I explored his body. I’d never held a man so intimately, never passed my palms across hard abs and chest in that way. Dan was in good shape and I respected that—envied his strength, really—and when I pulled him close it was as though I was trying to reclaim some of the power for myself. I—kissed him, tilting my head, shorted than him even in heels. Hungrily finding his mouth, I wrapped myself around him, threw my arms around his neck and drew him head to my chest, burying his face in my tits.

“Then I shoved him back, onto the sofa, and straddled him there, hovering over his lap and the hardness I knew was there.

“He handed me a glass. The glass was very full. I took it from him with a grin and knocked it back in one, in great big gulps, and then tossed the empty glass aside. Glass shattered. Then I had him again, lips tingling with the wine, running my fingers through his hair, gripping his shoulders, pinning him to the sofa, rubbing my body, soft tits against his hard chest, and….”

He shook his head.

“I don’t have a fucking clue what I was doing at this point. I was a mess. My head was swirling. I’d had some vague idea of—I don’t know. Throw up and beg off drunk and grab a cab or slink away in the morning, maybe; but the urge wasn’t there, I didn’t feel it in my belly, the need to be sick. At least not in that way. Maybe I was still thinking about Jeff waiting and watching outside, buying time. And maybe at some level I saw myself in Dan’s position, had been there with some sexy bitch in my lap and damn well knew what I’d expect at this point, what I deserved, how a girl like Cindy repays her man.

“And the room was whirling around me and I felt like everything was spinning out of control – out my control, at least—and that swell of emotions, that inchoate anger that started in the bathroom began to spill over. My hands roamed across his chest, traced the defined lines of his muscles, and I leaned over him, long hair dropping like a veil across both of us as my lips found his. I kissed him. I kissed—him, crushed lips against his and my ass grinding his lap. I kissed him and groaned, nails digging into his flesh and he cried out and I didn’t care. If—this—whatever—then I wanted to be in control.

“Standing over him, I tossed my hair and licked my lips, caressed my own curves and slid my arms down my side, my thighs – onto his lap and felt Dan’s hardness, waiting. My hand lingered there. Cindy knew what he wanted – I knew—

“But I hesitated.”

David’s eyes dropped and he avoided eye contact as he continued.

“Dan’s the first guy to touch my tits,” he said.

“It happened so quickly. In charge, but then he had me by the wrists, and his hands seemed so big, so strong; and without any effort at all he pulled me down into his lap. He held me for a moment at the waist and I suddenly felt so… small, weak and breathless under his touch, and that heat that drove me to him suddenly went cold and left me hollowed, empty under his hand. Confidence evaporated and I went still as his fingers slid up my back and… he found the zipper and—”

He paused.

“I used to love that. You know, with a woman, when she’d turn and lift her hair and expose the back of her neck to me. The sparkle of an earring, the glitter of necklace, and that little patch of bared skin between hair and clothes, open and vulnerable.  The trust, maybe? But also that feeling of… control, of power over her, just a little and the anticipation. And yeah, in the heat of the moment I might tear her out of those clothes but I always preferred to take it slowly, let my finger trail down her spine as I released her, like the satisfaction of slowly peeling fruit before tasting the flesh beneath.

“But as the girl?” He shook his head. “I hate it. I hate that it’s so awkward to zip on my own, especially with these nails. I hate the sense of… openness, of dependency, needing someone like Jules to, to… seal me into my clothes. And that’s what it feels like, being fastened into something; trapped. The tightness. The way it draws in around the curves of the lingerie, the restriction, the… reminder of how tiny I’ve become, how… delicate.” He chuckled drily. “It was a very tight dress.”

“But suddenly the dress was down around my waist and I was missing the little protection it offered. I was in another man’s arms, half naked in lingerie, and I’ve never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, somehow ever more naked than if I’d been actually naked.

He gave a dry chuckle. “Half naked? Like for a second. He gave a quick tug, and next thing I knew the dress was down around my ankles, and as much as I hated the damn thing I suddenly found myself missing it, intensely.

“Then he was holding me, he was kissing me, he had me on his knee with his fingers tracing the boning upwards, whispering in my ear, ‘you’re so fucking sexy,” he said, “so hot,” shit like that, grabbing me as his tongue found mine, and then his hands were on my tits, over the bra, and it felt….”

David covered his face with one hand and groaned. His shoulders shook as he took a long breath but after a moment collected himself enough to continue.

“I don’t think I’d realised until then just how different a man’s touch can be. Julia, she’s really into my tits. To humiliate me, I think, to remind me that I’m not the man I was. She likes to grab and pinch and twist and—it hurts, but dammit, I kinda love it. Nipple shit never did anything for me before but now—I guess there’s just more to play—and with her—fuck, but it’s hot, it really turns me on when the mood’s right. My tits up against hers, all that softness, and even when she’s at her most brutal her touch is still… somehow, I don’t know… feminine. And even at its most embarrassing, like when she forced me to play with my own tits, wearing—whatever she picked to remind me I’m her girl—it always leads to me fucking her, burying myself deep in her cunt, and well—”and David grunted with satisfaction—“yeah, whatever she does, at the end of it all I still feel like a man.”

“But this, this was a man touching me. A man with his arms around my slender waist, holding me close, a man’s scent, a man’s hot breath on my neck, nuzzling at my neck, stubble like sandpaper against my cheek, then biting at my ear; a man, running his fingers through my hair, paddling my shoulders, reaching behind and then –

“He unhooked the bra and it came off.”

David stopped.

Crystal waited.

“I don’t know if I can keep going,” he said.

She nodded. She waited as he reached for a glass of water, took a tiny sip, and very carefully put it back on the table. Then he reached for his handbag. He stared at it blankly for a moment and put it back without opening it. Finally, he sank back into his seat, staring up at the ceiling.

“Would you rather continue another day?” she asked.

There was a long wait before he finally shook his head negative.

“Can you tell me how you felt at that moment?”

He glared at her. “How I felt? With my tits in another man’s hands?”

“Only if you feel up to it,” she said.

Lurched forward, he gripped the table with white-knuckled anger, and leaning over the table went to speak—and then sagged, the emotion draining from him almost instantly. “You want to know the truth?” he said. “It felt—”

He looked pained. “You have to understand. I was drunk. Confused. Angry and afraid. I was all over the fucking place. But at no point in the least bit turned on, not by any of it. The whole time I was all over him, and he was all over me, I was—performing, I guess is the best word. Running off of some kind of instinct rooted in the girls I’d made out with in the past, only flipping it around and playing their part. The whole thing was an act, right?”

He grimaced. “My whole fucking life’s an act.

“But when I felt his hand on my chest it felt… nice.” He shuddered. “And so different than Julia’s touch. Stronger, more confident, even though she’s never been one to hold back. Somehow it just felt more—natural; and when he touched me, when his thumb flicked across my nipples, and they went hard—I gasped and suddenly felt weak in the knees—and next thing I knew I was half laying back on the sofa and he had one hand on my right boob, and he was kissing the other. He licked and twirled around the nipple and then sucked and I moaned like a bitch in heat, and for a moment it felt like my whole body was centered around those two hard, little points, and I was arching my back, throwing my head back, shoving those tits towards him—except it didn’t last because then, yeah, I did get excited, and it fucking hurt, and when I groaned it was in pain, not pleasure, not that fucking Dan could tell the difference.

“But he did stop, thank God, and with his hardon poking me in the belly and his body held over mine, his breath hot on my neck, he whispered into my ear: ‘I want you’.

“With a nod of the head he gestured towards what I assumed was his bedroom. ‘I want you so bad’, he said, ‘I’m going to take you into that room and spread you wide and fuck you senseless,’ he said.”

“So what did you say?” Crystal asked.

“Well I damn well didn’t say ‘okay’,” David answered. “His hand was creeping up my thigh as he said it, and things were about to get… bad. But some guy telling me he wanted to spread me like butter and fuck my brains out did a lot to bring me back to Earth, let me tell you.

“So I placed my hand over his and he stopped reaching for a pussy that wasn’t there. I whispered into his ear. ‘Oh babe,” I said to him. ‘I’m so sorry. I wish—I want to, I really do. I’m so turned on right now,’ I told him, and I forced my other hand to drift to his cock and he was so hard I thought he might tear a whole through his trousers. I gently rubbed him as I spoke. I gave him a great big kiss, moaning into his mouth as our tongues danced. ‘But I can’t,’ I said, when we came up for air. ‘It’s that time of the month.’”

“And you know, for a moment there, I actually felt a little thrill of fear. He had me pinned to the sofa, he was like twice my weight and while I could’ve fought him off, it wouldn’t have been pretty. But the look that flashed across his eyes when I told him… it wasn’t pleasant. For a moment there, I saw the anger, the frustration, and his fingers curling into the naked flesh of my shoulder grew painfully tight.

“But only for a moment. Then he chilled out, and next think you know, he’s looking so sad, so pathetic, like a child who just dropped their ice cream cone. I could’ve laughed, you know, if I hasn’t been nearly naked pinned under this guy with my tits hanging out.

“Dan sat back. I sat up. His hand still held mine, gently rubbing it over his dick. He was still hard—harder, even, as he looked at me and with a little smile.

“’How about…?’ he started, and cupped my chin with his hand, his thumb pressing against my lips.

“And when he pushed his thumb into my mouth, I let him. I whimpered a little as he forced his thumb back and forth, moaned as with the other hand he held my heavy breast in his hand once more and kneaded. ‘God, you’re sexy,’ he said. ‘A sexy little tease, aren’t you?’

David looked pained.

“’Naughty,’ he said. ‘Naughty clothes,’ he said, and his hand left my tit to trace the forced silhouette of my underwear, dancing down the boning nipping in my waist, finding my stocking tops and snapping the straps he found there taut across my thigh. I whined around the thumb still in my mouth as he continued, ‘for a naughty girl.’ He took his hand from my mouth, then, and kissed me deeply, passionately, forcefully, and when he pulled away he had a grip on my shoulders. ‘And such a naughty color for your lips,’ he said.

“And then he asked, ‘Are you a naughty girl?’.

“Wide-eyed, I nodded.

“‘Will you do a naughty girl thing for me?’ he asked.

David grimaced, and with elbows on table, he clutched his head between his hands. When he looked up at Crystal, his eyes were despairing.

“What the fuck could I do?” he said. “What choice did I have? Dan looked at me, all hopeful like, and I gave a little nod.  His hand on my naked shoulder was a heavy weight guiding me, but even more I felt the weight of expectation. I slid off the sofa and sank to my knees.

“I knelt—between his legs. Between a man’s spread legs. Dan gave a happy little sigh and shifted a little, making room for me, leaning back into the sofa. He even reached over to the side table and picked up his tumbler, can you believe it? I could smell it, the peaty smokiness, as he sat back and sipped, one hand idly caressing the side of my head, playing with my hair, my ear, as I knelt there between his legs and fumbled for his belt buckle.

“And I knelt there remembering: how many girls had knelt like this between my legs?

“And I knelt there thinking: that should be me with some pretty little bitch on her knees, reaching for my cock.

“And I knelt there wondering: how the hell did I get here, how could this be happening, this couldn’t be happening, I didn’t want to do this, I couldn’t be about to stick some guy’s cock in my mouth, I wasn’t a cocksucker, I wasn’t a girl….”

“But I knelt there and deep in my gut I knew—I felt—that I was there by choice. It was horrible and unfair and wrong but I was there through my own decisions that night. And…”

David trailed off and stared at the table. When he continued, he was unable to meet Crystal’s gaze.

“And so I undid his trousers and reached in and I touched another man’s penis for the first time.

“And saying it now it sounds gross, impossible, like how could I possibly have crossed that line in the sand, right? I’m not gay. I’m not—but there I was with another man’s cock in my hand.

“But in the moment—with his hand stroking my head, like a master with a new pet—and the room swirling with booze, blurry, I was aware—painfully aware—of kneeling there, in stilettos, in stockings, in sexy underwear—naked tits out—and the way he gently drew my long hair to one side, over my shoulder, and groaned under my touch…. In the moment, it all just sort of happened. I wasn’t thinking, not really, it was all just stuff happening in disjointed flashes.

“So I stared at my first penis up close. No distance at all, though I felt disconnected from the girl’s hand that held it, the slender fingers curled around the shaft, the pretty nails—that couldn’t be my hand, right? And maybe that was the trick, to just… disassociate myself from what was happening. It wasn’t -me- kneeling between Dan’s legs, but some drunk, half-naked girl keen to please her man, some girl with pretty fingers and long hair dancing at the edge of her vision, the taste of foreign lipstick at her lips, mouth dry, nose filled with the musk of a man’s crotch and in her hand, in her hand….

He paused.

“Dan’s smaller than me.” David glanced up and something adjacent to dry humour. touched his voice. “Like, I’m trying to pretend I’m not there, but the thing that flashed through my mind as I’m eying this erect cock, this cock I’m holding in my dainty little girl hand is: yeah, sure, not bad but fuck if I’m not bigger; and I feel this surge of, I don’t know… pride? For just a moment.

“But it didn’t last for long because even if I’ve got the bigger cock, I’m the one on my knees about to impale my face on this asshole’s meat. And he’s looking down at me, so cocky and comfortable, and I’m looking up at him through bleary, half-lidded eyes heavy with mascara, earrings dancing against my cheeks and I’m feeling so small, so… lost; and I really, really don’t want to do this thing.

“‘You’re fucking gorgeous,’ he whispered, drinking me in, and I can feel his gaze burning across my body, taking in the full sight of me, lingering over my naked tits before settling in anticipation on my red and ready lips. He stops petting me to cup the back of my head and—guide me in.

“And I went with the gentle pressure and leaned forward, felt the heavy pull at my breasts, felt hot, felt trapped, felt the tight constriction around my chest, felt out of breath, breathless, I opened my mouth to draw in air and….”

He stopped.

“And?” Crystal prompted.

“And—I couldn’t do it,” he said. Tears beaded in the corner of his eyes, sparkled and rolled down his cheek, dropping silently to the table between them. “I just couldn’t do it..”

Crystal waited, and he shrugged, almost apologetically.

“The thing I remember thinking was: for fuck’s sake, he’s probably just gone for a piss. This close, I could smell his musk, you know, that smell of sweat and balls that’ve been stewing all evening. His nob loomed large before me, bobbing jus a bit, a bit purple, shiny with pre-cum. I thought of the all the girls that’d gone down on me and how easy they made it seem. I also remember thinking: no way he’d last long, surely he’d blow his load straight away. I just had to… give it a little kiss. A lick. Open up like a good girl and take him in. It wasn’t me doing this, right? It was Cindy. It wasn’t gay for a girl to blow her date at the end of the night, give him a wet little thank you for a night out…”

“And for fuck’s sake, it’s just a blowjob, right? I’d known girls who’d drop to their knees before they’d share a real kiss with you.

“So I could do this. I wanted to do this. Just to prove—”

David sighed.

“Like I said, I was pretty fucked up by this point, and it all just flashed and swirled around my mind as I knelt there with Dan’s cock there—right there—centimeters from my lips, those sexy, red lips he’d been fantasising about all night.”

“His hand at my head pushed a little harder, and I—pushed back,. I pulled away from him, though I never let go. And Dan looked at me and I could see he was annoyed and frustrated. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked and then he saw the tears dribbling down my face.

“‘I’ve never done this before,” I told him, and the sound of my voice—it was pathetic, a little girl’s whine—but they were the truest words I spoke that evening. “I’m not ready.”

David went silent. Quiet tears continued to gently fall, and he seemed to collapse into himself.

“So what happened?” Crystal asked after some time.

The feminised man wiped the back of one hand across his eyes, smearing makeup and blinking away tears. He shrugged. “Not much. I guess I was pretty lucky. At the end of the day, Dan’s an alright guy. He didn’t try to force anything, even though he was clearly disappointed. He told me it was alright; he apologized; he—said I could spend the night, if I wanted, and he’d call me a cab in the morning. And the whole time, I still had my fingers wrapped around his penis, even if it wasn’t quite as hard as before. And maybe because he was being such a nice guy, I don’t know, as he was talking I started to rub my hand up and down his penis, just a little and not too fast, and it was almost funny how the words died in his mouth, how quickly he got fully hard again and fell back into the sofa. And looking up at him, still kneeling, still naked, with my free hand I reached into my handbag. I stopped, just long enough to pull out some hand cream, because I’ve been at the receiving end of too many bad handjobs and a little lubrication goes a long way. So when I started up again he groaned, and sighed, and grunted, you know, ‘yes’ and ‘oh god,’ and ‘just like that,’ that kind of shit, and I picked up the pace and for some reason this was so much easier, I was a goddamn pro at jerking off after all these months and this… this was just like that, sort of, at least that’s what I was telling myself and even the sight of my slender fingers and those flashing nails around an erect cock didn’t seem that strange to me, not then, not in the messed up state of mind I was in.

“And so I jacked this guy off his hands gripped my shoulders and he dug his fingers in and it hurt, and his whole body suddenly jerked, and his cock suddenly went even more rigid and then spasmed in my hand and he shot his load.”