So there I was, dressed in my stepmother's tight little black dress, her heels, stockings and a blonde wig, ready to push open the women's room door when a male voice behind me said, "Wrong one."
I had thought I had pulled it off. Turns out all the old guys buying me drinks and running their hands down my back to my round bottom, liked boys in drag. I guess they liked their twinks in dresses.
I turned around at that voice and saw a tall, athletic man standing there with a smirk on his face. I recognized him instantly as a coworker of my father's, a fellow lawyer at the firm. He had Superman's good looks and body, with just a touch of gray at the temples. I had always thought he was divine to say the least.
"Excuse me?" I asked sweetly, in my little girl voice. I was a boy, indeed. I was a 17-year-old boy of a mere 5'2", slim, with long legs and a by then famous (at least to most of the patrons of the bar) round butt, honed by a talent for running long distance races and winning. I thought I could bluff my way out of this latest predicament.
"You want this one," he said, grinning and pointing at the men's room.
"I...uh...don't think so..." I was losing my composure quickly. I looked around and saw a couple of the old perverts who had been cruising for me grinning my way, as if they too understood I was going in the wrong door. I suddenly realized, maybe for the first time, that the women in this particular bar may not be women after all, except for the lesbian who mixed drinks for everyone. I gulped, conscious of my adam's apple bobbing with the action. I looked at my nemesis, trying to remember his name and hoping to god he didn't remember mine.
"Come on," he said. "Let me help you." He reached out and pulled me toward the men's room and I followed easily. I was caught and now I wasn't sure what was going to happen to me. I was of the age of consent for that state at that time, but I wasn't old enough to be in a bar drinking with octogenarian patrons who liked the feel of my firm ass in their hand.
I followed him in and he pushed me into a stall. "Take care of business," he said, gently. I peed and then came back out. He took my purse and pulled out my makeup and hairbrush, making me wonder if he saw the small tube of lube I had in there as well. Off came the terrible wig I was wearing.
"This wig gave you away," he said. He pulled off the skull cap and fluffed my hair. After some water and some minutes he stopped messing with my hair and went to work on my makeup. "You need to learn how to apply makeup," he told me matter-of-factly.
Within a few minutes he had wiped away and reapplied foundation, blush, eyeliner, mascara and lipstick. When he stepped away and pointed me at the mirror I gasped. There, standing before me, was the woman I thought I looked like. Perhaps in her twenties, a short hair style spiky and sexy, makeup that enhanced her fine bone structure. I looked like my mother, who had died giving birth to me. My stepmother, I figured, would be jealous of my beauty, and if my father met me not knowing who I was he would probably want to fuck me.
"Wow," I said.
He leaned forward and kissed my cheek. "Yeah, wow," he breathed. "You always were gorgeous."
I looked at him and realized he knew exactly who I was. I bit my lower lip, my eyes wide. "You aren't...uh..."
He shook his head slowly. "No. Don't worry." Our eyes met and I felt a jolt of electricity shoot through me, my heart skipping a beat. This night had been started as a bit of adventure, a risky little bit of fun to see if I could pull off the look in public. I had thought it would end up with me going home and pulling my dildo out for some alone time. But suddenly, here was a possibility of that time not being so alone.
"Well," I said, softly, "is there any way I can thank you? You know...besides the normal way?"
It was his turn to stammer as he realized the road he had come down. "I, um, to tell you the truth...you know, your father would never forgive me..." But he trailed off as I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward a bathroom stall. It was my turn to say, "Come on."
In the stall, with the door closed, I realized just how big a man he was. He was at least a foot taller than me, maybe more, and broad shouldered. My father, I remember, said he had wrestled in college and had tried out for the Olympics in Greco-Roman wrestling only to have broken an army and having to drop out. He had the cauliflower ears to prove he had wrestled and, just guessing, I figured he weighed at least 230 or more pounds, all of it muscle. He pulled me close and I felt his lips on mine. I couldn't grow a beard at that time even if I wanted to, and can barely do it now. My smooth skin meeting his five o'clock shadow instantly made my bound and tied cock swell.
He broke off the kiss and ran his lips down my cheek to my neck. "You're so fucking beautiful," he said against my skin. "I'm afraid I might hurt you."
I thought of my much abused dildo at home. Unless he was over 12 inches and thick as my arm he would not hurt me. "Don't worry," I said. "You won't."
I pushed him down on the toilet seat and reached down to unzip his pants. I could see the bulge of his cock, which was obviously itching to get out. His slacks came apart easily and I pulled them down his powerful thighs.
"Oh my god," I breathed as I ran my hand over the lump in his underwear. He was huge. Might give my old lover the dildo a run for its money.
"I told you," he said. "We'll just take it easy, don't worry."
"I'm not worried," I whispered, "I want you to fuck me with that thing." He groaned as I pulled his underwear down and released his fully erect cock.
It was, in a word, huge. A long, thick, pulsing shaft of manliness nestled in a bed of black hair and hung with a pair of big balls that moved in their sac of their own accord, churning as the blood thumped through his groin. I wrapped one decidedly small hand around the cock shaft and pulled it stiffly away from his flat, muscular belly. He pulled his shirt up, to get the shirt tails out of the way. I looked at his meat in wonder. It was as thick as my arm, almost as big around as my dear dildo at home, which was as big as dildos will ever get. The head flared, fat and pulsing, a bright red. I pursed my lips and kissed the tip, feeling the shaft jerk in my hand like a snake.
My lips still pursed, touching the tip, I looked up at him with my blue eyes and slowly lowered my head. The cock head pushed into my pursed lips, like it was pushing into my anus and he groaned, lifting his hips from the seat. My mouth opened wide I took the head inside, my tongue gyrating over the velvety skin. While I was working at his hot, steamy cock, my free hand was letting loose my own cock and pulling my panties down to my thighs.
After several minutes of sucking, I stood up in front of him. He stared at me, his hand stroking his rod, as I pushed my panties all the way down. I pulled the lube out of my purse and put some on my finger. While he watched I lifted my dress and lubed myself, stretching my eager hole with one then two, and then three fingers until I figured I was ready for his mighty pole.
I straddled his lap and felt his big, manly hands on my hips. I kissed him, cradling his head in my arms.
"Goddam you have a sweet ass," he breathed against my lips and I felt his hands spread my cheeks. Down I went, reaching down to guide his thick member inside. He moaned as I slid down the amazing shaft. My own hard cock was rubbing against his shirt and I reached down to unbutton it so I could feel the skin of his chest and belly against my balls and cock.
We both heard the door open then and, with an amazing show of strength, he grabbed my ass from below and picked me up, then stood up so my feet couldn't be seen dangling down. We paused and I felt his fat, juicy cock pulsing in my stretched anus. The dildo never felt like this, it never moved or jerked, or jolted and pulsed, thickened and subsided, and felt both hard and soft at the same time like his cock did. I was in heaven.
We heard the visitor pee in a urinal and then wash his hands. The entire time my lover barely moved, but rocked his hips slightly back and forth so his cock slid in a out just enough to make me bite my lip to keep quiet.
When the peeing man left he turned around and moved to straddle the toilet. My back was pushed up against the wall and my lover began to fuck me in earnest. I held onto his neck, marveling at his musculature, his power, as his heavy meat sword slammed into me, his hips slapping against my ass. My legs were wrapped around his waist, my mouth to his ear encouraging him to fuck me as hard as he could.
Finally I felt his whole body jerk and his cock swelled beyond anything I had felt. He gave a gasp and suppressed a shout then thrust into me hard and held it. I could feel him pulsing inside me, filling me with his cum once, twice, three times then four before he finally came to a shuddering stop.
He set me gently down on the toilet seat and pulled his cock out, kneeling down between my thighs. My own cock was jumping around, ready to explode. As I sat there he leaned down and I felt his mouth engulf me. That was all it took, but I couldn't suppress my shout as I thrust up into his face, shooting my load onto his tongue as he slurped away.
When I had finished he sat back on his heels and grinned. "Well, I guess they'll know what's up now, huh?"
I nodded. "Sorry...it felt so good."
He shrugged. "We better get out of here. They'll probably call the cops."
I nodded, still dazed. He smiled at me and stood up. His big cock, now hanging limp but coated with lube, swung in front of my face. "Why don't we go to my place?" he said.
I smiled up at him and licked my lips. "Sounds great."