WTF Just Happened?! - 1. Chapter 1

WTF Just Happened?!

 

What. The. Fuck. Just. Happened?

Or rather why?

I mean it’s not like I’m gay, I’ve had girlfriends.

Aright so I’ve hit a bit of a bare patch on that score – but then most people do.

Don’t they?

It’s about six months since my last regular girlfriend and I split; split for the final time I mean – it’d always been an on-off sort of relationship anyway. If I’m honest Sara was a bit of a drama queen and I’d tired of her mood swings.

My best mate had taken me out to celebrate my ‘freedom’ when I’d told him, we’d got hammered and back at his place, and despite me being well soused, I’d spotted something distinctly odd and definitely unexpected. Malcolm had been in the kitchen doing his best to make us coffee before we hit the sack and he’d told me to put some music on. I picked up what I thought must be his current listening-list – a pile of about six CD’s – from beside his sound system not immediately realising that the bottom one was actually a DVD. After a quick flick through the discs I was just about to choose one when I spotted the DVD and wondered what he’d been watching. I was surprised that Malc didn’t hear my jaw hit the floor. What the hell was he doing with gay porn? He’d had more girlfriends than me!

I all but threw a CD into the stereo, put the rest and the DVD back where I’d found them, even in my un-sober state making sure the DVD was still at the bottom and that the title couldn’t be read before Malc came back from the kitchen.

I never mentioned it but I sure as hell remembered the title, even through the following day’s hangover.

In the following days I began to wonder if Malcolm had left it out for me to find as a way of starting to tell me something, but as he never tried to instigate the ‘I’m gay’ conversation with me I never raised the subject either.

Until, that is, I dropped in on him unexpectedly one Saturday lunchtime about six weeks ago

. . . .

 

 

“Oh hi Shawn wasn’t expecting you or have I forgotten that you were coming round?”

Unusually Malcolm didn’t immediately open the door to let me in,

“No, senility hasn’t set in,” I laughed, “I’ve been round at the garage getting the car serviced so I thought I’d call in on the off chance you’d got the kettle on.”

He couldn’t deny it was because just as I spoke the said kettle began to whistle.

“You’re like a sodding blood-hound when it comes to sniffing out a brew,” Malcolm smiled, “come in.”

He threw the door open and turned away from me, he dashed to pick up a large holdall laying at the foot of the stairs,

“You go and get a brew started while I get this out of the way,” he told me.

He stopped dead, so did I, as he’d picked up the bag an item, well items, it had been hiding came into view – a pair of ladies high-heeled shoes.

“Look if I’m intruding I’ll bugger off,” I said, casting a swift glance up the stairs.

“No, no you’re not,” he gabbled as he grabbed the shoes and ran to his bedroom.

“So who is she, more importantly where is she ‘cos she’s not likely to leave her shoes behind,” I asked when he joined me in the kitchen.

“I can honestly say we’re the only ones here.”

“So how come her stuff’s here?”

Malc tried, and failed, to suppress a yawn, that’s when I realised the man looked utterly knackered.

“Jesus, did you actually get any kip last night?” I sniggered.

“Not much,” he admitted.

“That good huh?”

“Yeah, but not,” he stopped.

“Not what? You’re obviously shattered, she’s buggered off home without her shoes how not good of a night could that be?”

“Oh it was a good night alright just not how you’re thinking.”

“What so you went to hers and she gave you her footwear as a souvenir?”

“You suddenly acquired a shoe fetish?” he smiled.

“Have you? You’re the one with a pair of what I believe are called killer-heels in your bedroom without the woman that goes with them.”

“That’s not entirely,” he yawned again, “look let me have a shower then I might wake up enough to have a sensible conversation. In the meantime why don’t you nip round to Lily’s and grab us a couple of sausage and tomato sarnies, my treat. Tell her they’re for me,” he dug into the back pocket of his jeans, I presumed for his wallet what he pulled out was a wad of notes – a thick one.

“What difference will that make?”

“Go and get the butties and find out,” he was already heading out of the kitchen, “the spare key’s in its usual place,” he reminded me as he started climbing the stairs.

I chatted with the cafe owner Lily and her daughter as I waited for our food, there were a dozen or so people sitting at the tables eating and chatting but I was the only one at the counter waiting for take-out. I’d done as Malc had suggested and mentioned his name when I’d ordered. I didn’t get to come to the cafe that often it was always closed if Malcolm and I were having a footy or film and booze night at his and I wasn’t often here at the weekends, Malcolm on the other hand worked from home so the cafe was one of his regular haunts and if the food wasn’t better than good there was no way it would be.

“How come he’s not here himself?” Lily asked.

“Apparently he had a good night last night but exactly what sort of good night has yet to be determined,” I smirked.

“Oh he had a good night alright,” Lily’s daughter Katy laughed, but said no more.

“How would you know?” her mother asked.

“Because he was still boogieing at three o’clock, I know this because I was there.”

“So you must have seen who he was with, the gal I mean.”

“No, don’t recall seeing him with a girl,” Katy said with some hesitation, just as her mother passed me a carrier containing the sandwiches.

“Cheers, I’m looking forward to this,” I smiled.

I mulled over my conversations with Malc then Lily and Katy on the short walk back to his and I concluded that several pieces of the jigsaw were missing, I was clearly lacking in some crucial piece of information. Malc had admitted that he’d had a good night, there was evidence of that in the women’s shoes I’d seen. Maybe him sending me to the cafe had been a way to get said gal out of the house, but then again he’d assured me we’d been the only ones in the house. I had eyewitness testimony from Katy that he’d still been enjoying himself in some club or other, it dawned on me that Katy hadn’t specified where she’d seen him but I doubted the name of a club would be significant, until at least three o’clock. However, that same eyewitness curiously had no recollection of seeing him with a girl; that meant he’d worked bloody fast! I mean he’d have had to spot his paramour, check that she wasn’t with a boyfriend, chat her up and persuade her to go back to his at some time between Katy seeing him and four o’clock when virtually all of the clubs in town closed. Then there was that serious wad of banknotes to consider.

Try as I might I couldn’t connect the dots.

“Food!” I yelled as I opened the front door.

“Brilliant,” Malc called back from the kitchen.

He’d made us fresh tea and we sat at the table eating in near-silence as we appreciated Lily’s creations. The woman was wasted in her small cafe, she was a culinary genius, besides our sandwiches being loaded with more filling than would be normal what I hadn’t known was that besides the sandwiches in the carrier there’d been two freshly-baked blueberry muffins the likes of which I’d never tasted before – each mouthful full of deliciousness.

“You were seen having a good night,” I said as we drank the last of our tea.

“Katy.”

“Yep, said you were still throwing shapes at three o’clock.”

“Told you I didn’t get much sleep.”

“What I want to know is how come she didn’t see you on the dancefloor with female company yet by chucking out time you did have.”

“No I didn’t.”

“But I saw the,” he held up a hand to stop me.

“What you saw, the shoes, they’re mine.”

“Yours?!” I yelled.

“Yeah, I do a drag act down at The Tunnel two Fridays a month.”

“A drag act? How the hell, I mean really? Since when?”

“I’ve been doing it about a year, I do gigs in other places as well.”

“Bloody hell, does anybody else know?” I meant our circle of friends.

“No, I wanted to find out if I was actually any good first.”

“And?”

“Last night I won a best newcomer award, well a regional one.”

“Are you?” I left the question hanging.

“Am I what? Gay? A tranny? No, I only drag up to go on stage.”

The more I looked at my friend the more I could see him dressed up as a woman, and if any bloke could carry it off, given the right make-up and such obviously, it was him and my thought was in no way an insult to his manliness merely a long-overdue observation. Don’t get me wrong as a man he was better looking than most but now that I really looked I could see the studied mannerisms he must use on stage to create the illusion, and I had no doubt that Malcolm’s alter ego would be no ‘cock-in-a-frock’ wearing some awful, ill-fitting cheap dress and bad wig, the shoes I’d seen paid testament to that. He was too meticulous in everything else he did to be anything less than perfectly presented.

“Can I come to watch you?”

“Look Shawn the places I play they’re all gay clubs.”

“So?” I felt a little insulted that he thought that would put me off.

“No offence meant mate I just didn’t want it to come as a surprise if you came to a gig.”

“You said you played other places, like where, other venues in town or further afield?”

“I go down to Derby, over to Stoke across to Manchester been to Newcastle a few times but not regularly and yeah I play a couple of other bars in town.”

“Ok so soothe my heterosexual nerves, when’s your next out of town gig?” I laughed.

“Actually I’m at a place in Doncaster tonight, it’s got my all-time favourite venue name.”

“What is it?”

“Your Father’s Moustache.”

“Pull the other one,” I guffawed.

“It’s true, come with me if you don’t believe me. In fact if you don’t mind lugging a kit-bag full of wigs from the car you could be my first ever roadie,” he laughed.

“Malc you said you’re not gay so how come you got into all this? It’s not like drag acts are commonly seen outside of the gay scene.”

“I’m not gay, I’ve got a foot in both camps so to speak.”

“Ah.”

“Does that make a difference?”

“No, don’t think so, should it?”

I was handling this a lot better than I’d thought I might have, not that a man being gay, or bi for that matter, bothered me in the slightest but what I’d learned about my friend had come as one hell of a shock.

I went to Doncaster with him and I helped him in with his gear – there was tons of it! Malc explained that he’d be doing two half-hour spots, with another act in between, and each one involved at least one quick change. When we’d got everything into the dressing room we went to the bar where Malc introduced me to the manager, Ben, who was happy to sit and chat having pulled a pint of lager for each of us the venue not yet being open.

“Ben, Lucy’s on the phone for you,” the young barman who’d been filling the chillers called.

“Jeez have you seen the time, I’ve got to get ready,” Malc proclaimed, taking a last gulp from his glass, “Micky look after my pal, he’s a first-timer,” he told the barman before heading back to the dressing room.

“Oh bugger,” Ben muttered when he came back some time later, I’d noticed that he’d made several calls after that first one, “I hate giving the acts bad news before they go on.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“How good are you with zips?”

“Excuse me?”

“The other act can’t make it.”

“And this involves my skill with zips how exactly?”

“Come with me and we’ll find out.”

Puzzled I followed him to the dressing room, noting that Ben had pulled another pint for Malcolm,

“Can we come in?” he called as he opened the door just wide enough to show Malc the lager.

“You’re ok I’m decent,” he replied.

On the way across the club I’d made a conscious decision that no matter how Malcolm looked I would not react, yeah like that was going to work.

 

He was a fast worker I’ll give him that, he was sitting in front of the mirror with more make-up spread out on the shelf below it than I’d ever seen, he was dressed in a knee-length black silk dressing-gown which was open at the front and I could see that beneath it he was wearing a red satin basque trimmed with black lace and his face was already part-transformed by make-up, or slap as he’d referred to it as we’d driven here and I just knew I hadn’t been able to keep a straight face.

“Hate to say this Molly but Lucy’s not coming,” Ben told him.

“You have got to be joking!”

“Nope, sorry and before you ask I’ve done a ring-round and nobody else is available.”

“I can’t do the act without help with the changes Ben, you know that. And I’ve only brought the music and costumes for the sets you asked for.”

Ben tilted his head towards me and the penny dropped – zips.

“Oh no, don’t look at me,” I exclaimed.

“Shawn please,” Malcolm begged, “I’ll lay everything out, with me being the only act we’ll have more room to manoeuvre, all you need do is pull up zips and fasten Velcro. Please. Nearly everybody here will know about last night, that I won the regionals, some of them will be here because I did. I can’t not go on and if I do go on I’ll end up looking like a right prat whether I try doing the quick-changes or not.”

“Free drinks, within reason, for the night if you’ll do it,” Ben threw in as a sweetener.

Malcolm looked at me in the mirror and mouthed the word ‘please’.

“Go on, how bad could it be?” Ben laughed.

Malc wasn’t just good he was wickedly funny, any hecklers were put down with acid remarks, those regulars he recognised he poked fun at in ways they laughed at themselves and he could sing! Thankfully the first set had only one quick-change which I managed to not slow down by too much; I left him in the dressing-room after he came off to change for his second set and went to bring drinks. The crowd was buzzing, I overheard people repeating some of the put-downs along with other parts of his spiel.

. . . .

 

Like I said that was six weeks ago now here I was wondering how the hell I’d got to where I was.

 

The night had been the night of the finals so I’d volunteered to be Malcolm’s driver, to be honest he was so nervous I didn’t fancy our chances of getting there in one piece if he was behind the wheel so I couldn’t blame the demon drink for what had happened.

Or could I?

After the awards which, to the disgust of the majority of the crowd, Malc didn’t win he came second, we’d been invited to a party by one of the other acts who’d also been performing but not taking part in the competition. It seemed like all life was there, gay, lesbian, drag-queens, tv’s, straight, couples and singles a true slice of the rainbow you could say. The drag acts there had all opted to stay ‘in character’ and the last I saw of Malc for some time after we arrived he was having an hilarious bitching-session with a guy I only knew as Gloria. And I’m not going to even attempt to pass any of it on because without the wonderfully sarcastic tone and the looks they exchanged I could never do it justice.

I left them to it and went in search of a cuppa – I was spitting feathers and desperately in need of something that wasn’t booze.

“You driving as well?” a voice said from beside me as I filled the kettle.

“Yep, well I couldn’t do the drinking when it was really Malcolm’s night.”

“Malcolm?”

“You might know him as Molly.”

“Right, yes I do. I didn’t know he had a new squeeze.”

“No, no I’m not, he’s a mate. Until last month I had no idea about his act.”

“So neither of you are taken then,” my companion posited.

He held out a hand,

“Glen, sometimes known as Glenda.”

“Shawn, otherwise known as Shawn,” I shook his hand.

“Don’t worry somebody’ll give you a name if you don’t pick one yourself.

I was about to explain that I wasn’t a member of the tribe when a pretty young woman all but bounced up to us,

“Please tell me there’s enough water in there for three.”

“Jenny this is Shawn, Shawn this is Jenny.”

“Pleased to meet you,” I smiled, “and yes there should be enough water for three.”

“Well go on Glenda you know where the mugs are, I’ll get the milk,” Jenny told him.

The three of us stood chatting and enjoying our tea tucked together in a corner of the kitchen. It turned out that Glen was a driving instructor like me, he normal road vehicles me large industrial ones, and Jenny owned a hair and beauty salon.

Glen eventually left Jenny and I alone to go in search of a bathroom, we got on like a house on fire. I guessed that without her heels she’d be about five-six, her figure was what most would call svelte and her coal black hair had been teased into curls and waves that framed her oval, perfectly made-up, face - well perfectly.

“How come you’re on tea and not knocking back the booze?” I asked her.

“I have a slight allergy to it, nothing major but I can end up looking like a tomato after the first couple of mouthsful which isn’t exactly a good look,” she smiled.

“Certainly not on someone as pretty as you,” I said quietly, it wasn’t meant entirely as a chat-up line, Jenny was indeed a really good-looking gal.

“There you are!” Malcolm declared when he found Jenny and I an hour or so later sitting in the garden along with a few others – we’d nabbed ourselves the garden swing figuring it would be the real comfy spot.

Malcolm insinuated himself onto our seat meaning Jenny had to sit closer to me, which I had no objection to I must add.

“I’ve been looking all over the place for you,” Malc put in, “you can’t get the staff you know,” he added for Jenny’s sake.

“Staff implies salary,” I huffed a laugh at the thought of getting paid for lugging a drag act’s gear in and out of pubs and clubs, “and I’m not sure you could pay me enough to be your permanent dresser.”

“Privileged position is that,” Jenny said, looking up at me, “there’s some as would do it for free.”

“Well I’m not amongst their number, besides which I already have.”

“You got paid in lager as I recall.”

“More like bribed.”

“Every man has his price, lovey, you just came cheap,” Malc laughed.

Jenny giggled, a sound that had my cock taking even more interest than it already had been,

“Listen to you two, you sound like a pair of right old queens.”

Malc and I looked at each other and guffawed at the thought.

“Molly!” our host called from the patio doors, “Kylie’s looking for you, people are asking for your rendition of ‘Memory’.”

“Gotta go my dears, my public awaits.” Malc declared in his best thespian tone, “Oh yes, silly me, I was seeking you out to tell you we’ve been offered a room for the night so if you want to imbibe you can.”

“Aren’t you going to watch?” Jenny asked me as Malc walked away.

“Aren’t you?”

“Seen it, besides I’m quite liking the company out here.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

Jenny was, without a doubt, one of the best conversationalists I’d met, we’d talked and laughed our way through cars, films, music, sport and a ton of other subjects and now as I ran the film of our time through my memory I had no recollection of hitting the booze. So no, the demon drink had not played a part in the subsequent proceedings.

I had absolutely no excuse for what had happened.

Apart from the fact that I’d wanted it to that is.

“Like you I’ve been offered a night’s lodgings,” Jenny told me, when I commented that dawn would soon be breaking, “and seeing as mine host is my cousin I’ve got the second best bedroom.”

“How many are there to go round?” I’d not noticed how large the house was when we’d arrived, it being pitch black at the time, and since then I’d not needed to find out.

“Enough,” she replied with a grin as she stood up, “want to come see?”

“All of them or just one?” I replied as I followed her lead and stood up.

God knows how but, unlike most women I’d seen, Jenny’s hair and make-up were as perfect now as they must’ve been at the start of the night – she looked delicious so I kissed her.

“Took you long enough,” she smirked when I had.

“You could’ve done it first, women’s lib and all that.

Jenny threw her head back and laughed,

“Yes, well moving swiftly on,” she finally said, “besides I thought a man’s man like you would prefer to take the lead, well I hoped you would.”

I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her again, I hadn’t noticed that she’d kicked off her shoes and I’d been right in her stockinged feet – and I must confess I was hoping that’s what they were – she was at least half a foot shorter than me.

“Why don’t we go and find out what sort of leader I could be?”

“Why don’t we just?” she smirked taking hold of my hand for her to guide me through the house.

Only then did I realise that many, most in fact, of the party guests had already left, and those still there were now scattered around the enormous lounge talking less noisily but no less animatedly than when we’d all arrived. There was one couple alone in the dining room, they were so into their make-out session that they didn’t notice Jenny and I passing the open door but I sure as hell noticed them because one of them was Malcolm!

“You don’t mind Molly doing that?” Jenny enquired as we reached the stairs.

“Why should I? We’re not a couple, just mates.”

Did I mind?

Actually no, I didn’t, not once the momentary shock of seeing my friend in a clinch with another man had passed. His life, his rules.

Mind you I needed to have the ‘please don’t ever try doing that with me’ conversation some time soon.

Jenny’s temporary bedroom was phenomenal and if this was the second-best bedroom I could only wonder at what the best one would be like. The king-size four-poster bed was black metal, its bedding gold, the gold carpet, which was so thick I swear my feet sank into it, matched the bedding exactly; there was a large tv on the wall opposite the bed and I could see beyond the two open doors either side of it that it had a walk-in wardrobe and an en-suite as big as, perhaps even bigger than, the one in my house.

“Sheesh! This is the second-best bedroom?!” I exclaimed, “What the hell does your cousin do? International arms dealer?”

“Nah,” she giggled and my cock tingled, that was unique, “him and Carrick his partner are in the entertainment biz, they sponsored the drag competition, the heats and final were all held at venues they own; they own a shed-load of clubs and bars, Carrick runs a management team for bands and solo performers, and no I won’t name any of them, they’ve got a recording studio and there’s a booking agency as well.”

“I’m in the wrong line of work,” I chuckled.

“Everybody starts somewhere, you for example have done a bit of lugging and driving for Molly,” she smirked.

“And apart from life or death situations that’s where my involvement starts and ends,” I retorted, pulling her back to me.

She looked up at me and her large hazel eyes, which I now noticed were flecked with gold, nailed me to the spot.

“You are gorgeous, please tell me you’re not playing away from home.”

“No, I’m not I don’t do that. I’m not involved with anyone.”

“But you must have guys throwing themselves at you like frigging Exocet missiles.”

“None that’ve hit the target,” she giggled – there was that tingling again.

We stood wrapped in each other’s arms for a long time and it occurred to me that this wasn’t something I’d ever done much of with Sara - especially in those last months we’d been together. Jenny had the cutest little ass, my eyes hadn’t left it as she’d sashayed up the stairs in front of me, now I had my hands on it squeezing it gently and it felt even better than it looked.

“This is something I don’t usually do,” Jenny told me, “not on the first night I meet someone, not even on a first date.”

“Hey, what we do’s up to you; I’ve understood what they word no means since I was kid.”

“I didn’t mean I was planning on saying no, I just didn’t want you thinking that I’m some kind of tart.”

“I happen to be quite partial to tarts,” I sniggered, “jam or lemon curd.”

“Silly bugger,” she chuckled.

“Tell you what, why don’t I follow your lead and kick off my shoes then we can sit on the bed and lay down some ground rules? You can tell me what you like, what you don’t and what you think you’re prepared for us to do.”

Her eyes widened in surprise as she looked up at me,

“I think you’re the first guy that’s ever said that to me before trying to shove their hands inside my clothes.”

“Then the men you’ve been with were idiots, inconsiderate ones.”

“Maybe that’s why I’m single.”

“And I’m so pleased you are, go on get comfy while I get my shoes off.”

Jenny knelt on the bed, deliberately or otherwise, giving me another great view of her pert ass tightly wrapped in the short skirt she was wearing along with – thank-you god – a quick flash of lacey stocking-top as she rearranged the pillows to form a couple of back-rests, As I crouched to unlace and remove my shoes (and take off my socks more in hope than expectation) I ran my gaze up and down her legs which, like the rest of her, were pretty much perfect; my old friend twitched behind my fly objecting to its confinement. By the time Jenny had propped herself against the pillows I’d managed to move my dick so it wasn’t as uncomfortable nor so obvious before I sat beside her.

“Can I start by saying that I really enjoyed what we’ve just been doing? I mean I wouldn’t object to more of the same,” she gave me a quick, shy, smile.

“Snap.”

“You did? Just kissing?”

“We-ell,” I drew the simple word out into two syllables, “as I recall you were letting me do something else as well. That’s one perfect little ass you’ve got I must say.”

She blushed!

“Thanks,” she whispered, not looking me in the eye, “would you let me do things to you first?”

“Do as you will,” I laughed spreading my arms wide.

“Not just yet, we’re supposed to laying down some ground rules.”

“How about this then? I suggest we try some more of that kissing malarkey and as we do you can tell me what you’d like to do and I’ll let you do it ‘cos I doubt you’ll suggest anything I don’t like, then you can tell me what you’d like me to do to you.”

Jenny nodded, giving me a cheeky smile,

“I think I’d like to unbutton your shirt to find out what’s underneath.”

She turned to lay on her side close to me, close enough for us to start kissing again. I don’t know how long we carried on this way but I do know that Jenny sure as hell knew what she was doing. I was wearing only my boxers, which was a first seeing as Jenny was still fully clothed, apart from her shoes, enjoying what she was doing to my body.

“May I?” she asked, running a fingertip behind the waistband of my underwear tugging it down slightly; in answer I merely raised my hips which she took full advantage of.

Then, and then, Jenny proceeded to give me the best blow-job ever; don’t get me wrong I’d never had a particularly bad one but Jenny, she was Olympic standard, no champion.

She kept changing the speed of how she moved her head up and down the length of me or she’d suck only on the tip as her fingers gripped the rest to jerk me off then without warning the fingers teasing my balls would move to stroke behind them and her other hand would move from my dick to allow her to take all of my length into her mouth and throat.

Just watching her was pure porn, listening to her was even better.

So taken was I by watching what she was doing to me with her mouth that I didn’t really have any spare brain capacity – it currently being royally entertained by Jenny’s mouth and right hand – to concentrate on what the fingers of her other hand were doing, until she did something different.

“No, stop! Finger or mouth not both for fuck’s sake,” I gabbled.

Yeah ok, so one of my past girlfriends had introduced me to the old finger-in-the-ass routine. But I’d have lasted seconds if Jenny had carried on.

“Sorry,” she murmured.

“Don’t be, it’s just that if you’d carried on I’d have finished by now,” I smiled.

Jenny again lightly gripped my cock as she slowly wanked me at the same time the tip of her tongue did wicked things to the dome and ridge of it.

“Jenny come on, let me join in,” I rasped as her mouth and fingers continued to feed my need, “I may be a bloke but I’d like to think I’m not a completely selfish bastard in bed.”

From where she knelt between my legs she looked up at me, briefly taking her lips from around my engorged pole,

“I’m enjoying myself,” she stated simply.

“And I’m not? In case you’re wondering I’ve got a couple of condoms.”

“You an ex boy-scout? Always prepared.”

“Come here,” I said, putting my hands under her arms to haul her up my body to lay on me so we could talk then I wrapped my arms around her.

“If this is as far as you want to go I’m good with it but I’d like to know why.”

“I’ve,” she closed her eyes letting her breath out in a rush before carrying on, “ I’ve had a couple of bad experiences so I’m not keen on going all the way anymore. I should’ve said I know, but I didn’t want to kill the moment. Sorry.”

“Bastards,” I spat, “I fucking hate men who think that if they’re getting their rocks off then whoever they’re with must be as well. Look, tell me now, outright, what you really like and how far you’re comfortable with us going and just so’s you know I don’t need a map and torch to find my way round your lady-bits, I just need you to tell me what you like if you’ll let me go there.”

“Oh. Fuck!” she whispered sounding aghast and giving me another wide-eyed look, only this time it was one of shock-horror before she scrambled out of my embrace to sit beside, but not close to, me.

Jenny dropped her head into her hands repeatedly saying that she was sorry.

But sorry for what?

I’d hoped she’d understood that I’d meant what I’d said, that if she didn’t want full-blown sex then I was happy to respect her choice, disappointed by it certainly, but respect it I would.

I quickly dragged on my boxers, suddenly feeling at a disadvantage being naked, then sat close beside her; I wrapped my arm around her shoulders easing her even closer to me hoping to calm her though I was still none the wiser as to why Jenny was so upset. I said nothing, running the last few minutes of our encounter through my memory looking for anything I’d said or done to cause her distress and came up blank. I had only one option – to ask.

“Jenny, what did I say or do? Whatever it was I’m sorry.”

She was speaking so quietly, her hands still covering her face, that I could only catch snatches,

“I never thought, I should’ve asked, I thought you knew,” these other phrases were interspersed with repeats of her saying sorry.

Bingo!

The metaphorical light finally lit up.

Now I’m figuring that you sussed way before I did, my brains having taken up temporary residence in my dick, what was going on. But like I said my little gray cells had migrated south and Hercule Poirot was not in the building.

“You’re a guy?” I stated more than asked.

Somewhere a thought was waving at me but it was being ignored.

What was it?

That me finally realising that I’d been naked in, or rather on a, bed enjoying a seriously good foreplay session with ANOTHER MAN hadn’t had me withdrawing my arm from his shoulders to put the width of the mattress between us.

LIKE A STRAIGHT MAN SHOULD.

Finally Jenny, I couldn’t think of her – sorry him – as anything else as it was the only name I knew, looked at me.

“I really thought you knew,” he-she murmured, “I thought you were like Molly.”

“You thought I’m bi?” I began to laugh quietly, shaking my head.

“I should go,” Jenny said softly, “I’ll leave you to get dressed. I think you and Molly, sorry Malcolm, will be in the room at the end of the corridor, it’s the only one with twin beds. I’ll go downstairs for a bit, give you time to go.”

Neither of us moved.

Why hadn’t I twigged that Jenny wasn’t what she appeared to be?

And we’re back to me not being able to blame it on the booze.

Jenny’s slim build helped, so did the immaculate hair, make-up and clothes, there was no hint of a masculine voice just a soft female one; even the way she, yes I give in I still couldn’t think of Jenny any other way, walked and her mannerisms were nothing if not feminine.

Got it.

Jenny, unlike most of the drag queens and tv’s I’d come across when I’d gone to see a few of Malc’s shows, I’d been to about half a dozen and seen him perform with a couple of other drag artistes as well as solo, presented herself as feminine not effeminate and I’d fallen for it hook line and sinker. That wasn’t her fault, it was mine – I’d never stopped to question what my eyes, and prick if I’m being honest, were telling me given my surroundings.

I should’ve said something when I’d had the chance and there’d been a few, granted I’d been interrupted each time but I hadn’t gone back to the subject of me not being gay or bi or anything other than straight.

“My fault,” I told her, “in a houseful of people like you, or Glen or even Malcolm I guess I should’ve declared myself as being a visitor to not a member of the scene.”

“I promise I won’t tell anybody, if anyone makes a comment I’ll say we were having a quiet natter away from the drunken revellers.”

That’s when I became a ventriloquist’s dummy, my mouth was saying words I shouldn’t have been verbalising,

“Can we get past the buzz-kill of you leaving for starters and go on from there?”

“If you’d like.”

“Now, first thing is we should’ve both spoken up so in my book that makes us,” I passed a hand between us and was baffled to see her flinch before she’d realised what I was doing, “even. Yes?”

“Ok.”

“Second that was, without a doubt, the best frigging blow-job I’ve ever had.”

Jenny smiled, genuinely smiled, at the compliment and blushed again,

“Thanks.”

My brain, now it was returning to normal service, couldn’t let go of how she’d flinched,

“I know it’s really none of my business but the guys who didn’t treat you well, did they know beforehand? Were they violent?”

“They both knew, I wasn’t dressed the first time I met one of them. And I’d say one was aggressive not violent as such, I mean he didn’t hit me.”

Short as my experience of this alternate lifestyle was even I knew that not being ‘dressed’ meant Jenny must have been in mufti at the time and not that nudity had been involved.

“Then that makes them double bastards in my book.”

“Why?”

“Because someone as sweet as you should be treated well, you’re not some slapper handing yourself round like a packet of crisps,” she giggled again – and yes the tingle was back.

“I’ve not heard that one before.”

“Well it’s true isn’t it? Do you get your jollies with any bloke willing to shell out for half a lager and a bag of pork scratchings?”

“No, you’re the first man I’ve been with for months.”

“You’re the first one I’ve been with ever,” I stopped immediately regretting what I’d said not wanting to upset her again, “sorry I could’ve phrased that better or better still not said it at all.”

“It’s ok, really, but I appreciate the honesty.

Ding!

A thought I knew I had to express came to me,

“In the interests of honesty can I say that I’m having real trouble seeing you as anything but Jenny, female that is, and if that’s not something you’re comfortable with then I apologise again.”

“No, it’s not.”

“What a pair of idiots, I ruined a perfectly good encounter by mentioning the female anatomy. If I’d been a selfish twat I’d have kept my mouth shut, hoped you’d keep yours open and fucked off as soon as it was all over for me.”

“It wasn’t over though was it?”

“Unfortunately no and there lies my conundrum. Much as I’d like to pick up where we left off I can’t.”

“I know,” she whispered looking down.

“Actually no you don’t. You’re thinking it’s because now I know I can’t handle you, a guy, going down on me again. Yes?”

She nodded, looking clearly confused, not yet understanding where this was heading, I’m not sure I was a hundred per cent myself.

“No, my problem is that I can’t do the same for you, I’m sorry honey.”

Honey? Where the hell had that come from?!

“I’m fairly certain that giving a guy a bj isn’t in my DNA, don’t think giving one a hand-job is either and I won’t be yet another who treats you wrong by using you to get their end away then leaving you unsatisfied.”

“Oh,” she blinked rapidly as she took in what I’d said, “but what about if I wanted to carry on as we were whether or not you touched me?”

“I’d still leave here, you, feeling like a selfish twat.”

“Please,” Jenny whispered, “let me,” before I could stop her she ran a fingertip up my semi-hard dick, making it spring further into life, “I was enjoying it as well.”

“It wouldn’t be fair.”

“I’m a big girl,” we both smirked, “I can decide for myself what’s fair.”

The next thing I knew she had her hand inside my boxers and was gently fisting my almost full, and rapidly getting there, erection.

My head fell back against the headboard,

“Jenny you’re making it really hard,” at that she giggled again and my dick twitched in her hand, “I meant that you’re making it really difficult for me to stick to my principles.”

“Let’s give your principles the night off shall we? We’re both grown-ups, we’re both sober and if I’m willing to finish what we started I don’t understand why you’re not.”

I looked down at her and FUCKING HELL she meant it.

“Unless you didn’t really mean what you said about it not being because I’m male.”

Let me take a moment to explain something here before I carry on.

Jenny was gorgeous – a stand-out amongst the drag queens and tv’s, and yes there’s a difference. She left any number of ordinary females behind as well. What red-blooded male of any persuasion would turn down oral from such a looker particularly when they already knew how good it would be? And it’s not like I could claim that knowing her truth had killed my passion now could I?

“Oh fuck!” I said just before I kissed her.

Jenny moaned and parted her lips but only enough to sweep the tip of her tongue across my lips and my prick all but danced in her hand as it remembered feeling the same thing.

“Now can I carry on?” she asked when our mouths parted.

“Jesus Christ woman, yes, and don’t spare the horses, I’m fucking desperate!” I laughed already pushing my boxers down.

She kissed me quickly then twisted to again kneel between my legs; before lowering her head to my crotch she tormented my nipples with her teeth and tongue, when she stopped I tilted her head up to face me,

“Tease,” I smiled.

I lost track of time as Jenny worked her magic on me again and count of how many times she took my dick into her throat. She’d begun by simply holding it between her fingers and thumb, moving them up and down slowly; she’d occasionally wipe the head of my cock across her lips then lick off my pre-cum I could see glistening on them – fuck but that was pure porn! – or skim a finger through my juices to lick it off – more porn.

“Mmng,” I grunted the first time she sucked one of my balls into her mouth, there to slowly massage it with her tongue, when she did it with the other one it came as no less of a shock – a very pleasant one.

I didn’t resist when she put her hands under my knees to show she wanted me to bend and spread them, when I had I thought she was finally going to wrap her talented tongue around my pole but instead she continued to fist it, she laid flat on the bed lifted my balls and licked the skin behind them.

“Fuuuuck,” I gasped, my hips jerking in response.

“Not good?” she smirked looking up at me.

“You know it is young lady,” I said as sternly as my own grin allowed.

“Does that mean I could try doing this?”

Jenny swept her tongue from behind my sac, all over my balls and on up my cock where she proceeded to lave the throbbing tip with it, moaning as she tasted my pre-cum again.

“Or maybe this,” she managed to mumble as her tongue re-traced its path to finish behind my balls.

My hands were dug deep into the quilt, at that moment I was certain that if she so much as blew on my dick I’d explode.

“Jenny I’m really close love, much more of that and either I’ll end up covered in my own spunk or I’ll be down on my knees begging you to let me bang the living daylights out of you.”

Yes I know, I should’ve ‘engaged brain in gear before opening mouth’ but come on give a man a break; I’d meant if she’d been a, ok I’ll say it, if she’d been a ‘normal’ woman but my brain had circumvented the term.

Or maybe it’d been a Freudian slip.

At that point I was past caring whether it had been or not.

“You don’t need to beg,” Jenny replied before I could correct my slip of the tongue, no pun intended, she’d knelt up as I’d been talking and lowered her head as she’d spoken.

Any retort I might have made was heavily disguised by my strangled cry of surprise when she sucked on the end of my dick having tightly wrapped a finger and thumb around its base. Slowly, agonisingly so, she lowered her head until she had all of my length in her mouth and down her throat, her lips now clamped around the base almost as hard as her digits had been.

“Honey, if you carry on like that I will cease to be a gentleman and I will nail your perfect little ass to this bed,” I growled – Freudian slip it was then.

“Yes please,” she replied around the tip now resting on her tongue.

That was it, all logical, what you might call ‘straight’, thinking packed its bags and decamped to parts still unknown.

“If that’s what you want we’d better find me a condom,” I immediately regretted saying that as it meant she had to take her wonderfully hot, wet, mouth away.

Faster than a striking cobra it seemed to me she’d grabbed a condom and bottle of lube from the drawer of the bedside table and had the foil wrapper open.

“Um, would you do something for me please?” she asked quietly as she rolled on the latex and covered it generously with the lube.

“If I can.”

“Will you close your eyes please?”

“What for?” now I was the confused one.

“Please,” she begged.

“Ok I’ll go for it,” I told her, doing as she’d asked.

I felt her moving around on the bed for a few moments before telling me I could look again, nothing seemed to have changed, she was in exactly the same position as before, but obviously for Jenny something had.

“Now what was all that about?”

“Well I needed to take something off otherwise it would’ve been in the way of this nailing my ass you mentioned,” she chuckled.

I grinned, apart from, I presumed, her knickers she still looked like the woman I’d thought I was with, the illusion still held. Jenny turned her back on me, straddled my thighs reached beneath her to hold my dick upright and sank onto it.

“Oh god! That feels so fucking good,” she wailed.

“Ride it,” I told her, first because I wanted to watch that peach of an ass as it rose and fell – her skirt having ridden up due to her position – and second because she could control how hard and fast she took my length.

I’m here to tell you that seeing my cock disappear into her each time she sank onto my prick was fucking a-mazing!

Her ass was tighter than I could’ve imagined and the sounds she made as she moved made me feel bloody wonderful.

I instinctively knew that one reason she’d opted for this position was so that I could go on pretending. And I mean it’s not like I hadn’t done this with an ordinary girl but it also meant that she could play with herself without me having to see.

“Oh fuck,” she moaned when I sat up and wrapped my arms around her.

“Now I could help take care of that for you,” I told her as I stroked her hand.

I could?

“Or I could be a real meanie and get you on your front to finish that nailing you seemed to like the thought of.”

“Don’t care how, I just want you to fuck me.”

Reader I fucked her – soundly.

I had been perilously close to cumming before Jenny had wrapped me in latex but now even my dick didn’t want this to end so I did what I’d threatened and tipped us both over.

“Stay still,” I snarled, having made sure she couldn’t touch herself – yet.

At first I pretty much covered her body with my own as I began to really take her but I knew that if I was to fuck her hard, and if Jenny truly wanted that too, I’d have to move.

She answered that thought before I could ask,

“Harder, please,” she groaned.

“As you like,” I replied, pushing my torso away from her so I could pummel my cock hard and fast into her perfect ass.

“Oh god, I wanna cum,” she moaned when she began trying to move her body in time with mine.

“So do it,” I told her as I hauled her hips up from the mattress but kept her head and shoulders on it.

I held onto her to keep her still as I lost all thought but one – my need to orgasm, well two thoughts the other that Jenny had to do the same.

I knew what she was doing with her right hand - I’d done it often enough for myself – but did I care? No, absolutely not; it wasn’t as if I could do anything to help her now was it?

Or . . . . was it?

“Don’t stop for fuck’s sake,” Jenny gasped.

“Can’t,” I panted.

“Just a little longer,” she managed to say between snatched breaths.

“Nyaaargh!” I groaned as my balls tightened to send my jizz racing along my cock to off-load inside Jenny, well sort of.

“Oh god,” she wailed, “soon,” I could see her arm moving rapidly.

“Will this help?” I’d let go of her hip with my right hand and reached beneath her to wrap it around her own, increasing the pressure on what she held.

“Oh fuck yes! Yes, yes, yes,” her moans were partially muffled by the quilt.

So that’s how I got to be here, with Jenny, still dressed, tucked under my arm, asleep while I stared at the ceiling asking myself,

WHAT. THE. FUCK. JUST. HAPPENED?