Debutante

"How's things, David?" It was Michael Armstrong, a neighbor, going out as I was going in.

"Oh, OK, thanks." I didn't really want to talk about it. Women and I didn't seem to mix.

"Sorry to hear that. Hope it gets better. In the meantime, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine. Mark, this is David, a neighbor. David, this is Mark."

Then I noticed his companion, a very stylishly dressed young man, Mark was, and if he wasn't gay I'd eat my hat, even without the diamond stud in one ear. He shook my hand, squeezed a little, and looked intently into my eyes. I looked back, blushed, tried to look away and couldn't.

Michael said, "You two must get together another time, Mark. Remember we're due at Joanna's" .

"Yes, of course. Another time , David"

He squeezed a little more, let go, and departed. I went on up to my apartment. I made a snack, watched TV without attention, tried to read, and at intervals tried to shake off a disconcerted feeling about the encounter. I'd been propositioned by queers before and been able to cope. My attention was unfocussed; vague images of Mark floated in and out. I had a mild erection. I looked at the phone -- I didn't have his number, anyway, and what was I going to do? Bawl him out for making me uncomfortable? Did I want him to call? The phone rang.

"David, this is Mark. We met earlier, remember..."

"I remember." My mouth was dry, but my attention was focused now. For some reason I felt as if I had a fight on my hands.

"Have you had a nice evening? What have you been doing? Have you thought of me?"

"Maybe a little." They shall not pass.

"In what way? I like to be flattered."

"Well, I thought you were good-looking, and seemed interesting, and probably conceited" Take that!

"As well as being good-looking and conceited and interesting I was also very much interested? In you, that is? Surely you could tell?"

"Not particularly" Don't give an inch.

"I find that hard to believe. I was practically coming out of my socks. You didn't ask about my evening. I had a very pleasant time: I was thinking about you from start to finish. My hosts thought I was quite distracted, though Michael understood, of course."

"Of course?"

"Well, he set it up. I'd heard him rave about you, and demanded he introduce me. I must say you lived up to your advance billing."

"That's a hell of a note. What did he say about me?"

"Only that you were very attractive. He knew that I was more impressionable, and would be bowled over. And so I was." "That's silly. You're making it up."

"Not silly at all. I know what I felt. And you were aware of what I was feeling, weren't you? You felt it yourself?"

"Well, not that way. You know I'm straight."

"Maybe. In any case, straight or not, I don't care. I find you intoxicating, and I want to make love to you. Will you let me?"

"I couldn't possibly ..."

"Of course you could. If you insist on being straight I might even like it better. But I couldn't be mistaken. You did respond to me, didn't you?"

"Perhaps a little."

"Oh yes. I saw something in you. You saw something in yourself, didn't you? You've been fighting it all evening, haven't you? You hate it, you want it. A little heavy breathing through the mouth? Some contraction of the abdominals? A stranger's hand in the crotch? You'd like to stroke me, or throw bricks at me. Say something, or I'll hang up."

How could he know all that? It was true. I suddenly gave in, relaxed, and sighed.

"Yes, Mark, I've been thinking about it all evening. But I don't know what it is"

"Oh, I do. You've spent the evening coming to accept that all of a sudden you're a virgin, and you have a cherry to be lost. You're like a virgin girl. You tingle all over. You know it's going to happen sooner or later, and you can hardly breathe for excitement. You don't really care who does it, so long as he's gentle. You know it's going to hurt and you're looking forward to that too. You've realized that you can contemplate being made love to by me. You're responding to my desire, which you could see when we met. What it is is your body and mind responding to mine, seeing something for the first time. You're experiencing the sensation of someone lusting after you. You are responding to me, aren't you? I need you to reply out loud. Out loud so you can hear your thoughts, so you can't deny them later"

"Oh yes, I'm responding to you"

"More than that, I think you'd come right over if I asked you , wouldn't you?"

"Mm."

"Not good enough, David. Say it out loud: I want you to make love to me now, Mark."

"I want you to make love to me now, Mark "

"What a transformation, from shy straight guy to demanding faggot. Are you sure? Say it again, louder."

"I want you to make love to me now, Mark -- please"

"And again. I want your neighbors to hear."

"I want you to make love to me now, Mark. I want you to make love to me now, Mark"

"And do you feel pretty? I want you to feel pretty, for me."

"I feel pretty." And I really did feel pretty. This was crazy. "Please come over here right now, and make love to me, Mark."

"No. I have a better plan. I have to go away for a few days, and anticipation will be delicious torment for both of us. Do you know Julio's? I want you to meet me there on Friday of next week, at 6:30, say. It's a gay bar, of course, one of the less discreet ones. Can you guess why I want to meet there?"

"Mark, oh Mark, I can't guess, I don't want to guess. I just want you to go on talking. Your voice goes right through my bowels. Tell me, please"

"Because I want you to feel all those eyes assessing your body. I want you to have the feeling of being a straight virgin pansy for the first and only time in your life. I want you to be dreadfully shy. I want you to be proud. I want you to be saying: `I know what I'm here for and I'm with him' What a delicious anticipation for both of us. MY straight virgin pansy. For as long as one drink lasts. Oh, and please arrive on time. I may be late so that you can be alone in a gay bar for a while. Go right to the end of the bar. Tell the bartender you're waiting for me. "

"Give me your phone number, Mark"

"No, you might be tempted to back out. You can back out, of course, but you can't re-schedule. This is the big time."

"You're a torturer, Mark"

"Not all the time. I hope you have a nice erection? Now all you have to do is keep it for eight days. I have to go now. Ciao. Arrivederci."

He was gone. I felt as if I'd just been bulldozed. I re-opened my eyes and looked at myself again in the mirror, still with erection. He must like the skinny type, I thought. I thought gays liked muscular hunks? Of course, he was pretty skinny himself. No sleep for the rest of that night.

So I started the process of change. How did I look to Mark? How did I want to look? In the next few days I haunted the clothing shops that catered to a gay clientele. I had lots of propositions and found I had a new kind of response to them. I felt shy; I felt flattered; I blushed; I felt frightened. What was I getting into? I'm not sure what I said in reply to any proposition, but I knew the general effect, and it surprised me. I was saying, in effect: Not now, but maybe later. Not what I would have done last week. When I bought the loose low-slung white cotton pants - -almost but not quite sweatpants -- I posed for the clerk in the store and he liked the effect. "Who's the lucky man?" I just smiled.

And so I walked, on Friday , to Julio's: white T-shirt, white espadrilles, and my special low-slung white pants, navel just showing. No underwear. Everything out front. A willing sacrifice. I should have had orange blossom in my hair. I was five minutes early, deliberately, to meet the small ordeal.

No Mark, of course. To get to the far end I had to run the gauntlet. I felt more than one hand on my butt. I sat, ordered a drink, and tried to look at ease and mysterious.

"David, how nice to see you. You come here often?" It was Jon, a colleague from work. I'd wondered about him, and now I knew. He now knew too, of course.

"First time. Seems very pleasant." Now a whole underground population would pass around that I'd been in Julio's in faggy clothing. What the hell, might even be interesting.

"Why don't you join us? We're going on to a nice party later." Jon's hand rested on my thigh for a second.

"Wish I could, but we have other plans. And here's my date now." Had I really referred to Mark as my date? Here he really was, dressed much the same as I, but with black pants.

"Congratulations. I was afraid I'd scared you away. Usual, Tom, please."

We drank in silence for a while. My earlier bravado had seeped away a little, and I felt very much exposed among all the faggots. Mark was just looking at me. He said:

"You're looking wonderful. Everything about you says `I'm cherry, fuck me.' Our problem is to get you out of here alive."

He exaggerated. We got out without incident, then walked to his apartment nearby, his hand on my butt.

In his apartment, mirrors everywhere, low-level lighting, black satin sheets on the large bed. Well, why not? I held his hand and looked at him, waiting to be directed.

"I think the order of business is first I undress you."

He stripped off his T-shirt, shoes, and pants, down to a black thong, very sexy. Not a hair on him below the chin. He gently took off my T-shirt and shoes, ran his hand round my waistband, dipping into the rear cleavage, then finally loosened the drawstring and slipped off my white pants, discovering that I had no underwear, and no more hair than he.

"Wow!"

"I'd like to suck you, Mark. May I?"

He nodded. So I slowly took off his thong, held his balls in my hand, and gazed at his cock.

It was beautiful. Like a jewel. Not large, and rather slim, but beautiful with a proud, almost purple, head. I kissed it and took it in my mouth, tongued the glans, slid the head in and out of my lips, tightened my lips to a round `O", and took him in my throat as deep as I could, which was deeper than I'd ever imagined. Then I felt his hands on my head, pulling it toward him.

"Deeper, David" he said, and pushed. I thought I would choke, I did choke, and still he held me. Then he relaxed a little, gave a long groan, and a gushing stream filled my mouth and throat. I swallowed lots, rolled the rest round my mouth, and got up shakily to kiss him as he'd kissed me.

"You did that wonderfully, David" he said. "Is it your first time?" I nodded.

"Now I want to look at you. Turn around." I revolved unsteadily for him. He looked at me from every side, ran his hands over my shoulders, stroked my hips, kissed behind my ears, lifted my cock and balls, now of course erect and glistening.

"That is just spectacular. Come and lie down on the bed".

For ages he seemed content to stroke me, and look at me. It was good to look at him too , but what was he waiting for? I wanted him to suck me, but It didn't seem as if he wanted to. He kept stroking my cock and my legs, and looking at me gently. Then:

"It's time, David. Time to give up your cherry. You've had quite a while to think about it. And you're looking like a man who's ready. You are very sexy this evening, with your shiny shaved virgin body. Couldn't you feel it in the bar, all those cocks reaching out toward you. Your lips and your chin and your cock and the way you walk and especially your little virgin pussy. Let's just lie here, and see how it all works out."

We lay there side by side, and he stroked my cock, cupped my balls, and after a while put his arm under my neck and turned my face to him and kissed me tenderly. I turned my body towards him and he slipped his other arm between my legs and cradled my ass with his hand. A long pause, then he began to tickle, to tremble his fingers round my hole, teasing then searching. He found the place, firm pressure with one finger, then held my head with the other hand so that he looked me straight in the eyes. A pause, then a finger in a little way, then more, then slowly all the way in. Then out again, then two fingers, then for a short time three. I writhed and gasped. He thrust his tongue deep into my throat, held my head firmly while he fingered me. Then he released me.

"Quiet."

He moved suddenly like a wrestler, pushed me onto my back, and raised my legs bent to my shoulders. In an instant, it seemed, he had lubricated his cock and my ass with deliciously cool jelly, and lay between my legs, his cock poised and pushing at me.

"Guide me"

He lowered himself toward me. I felt my erect cock between us, its head nearly reaching my chin. I guided his cockhead to my hole. I was straining my ass alternately toward and away from his, not sure what my body wanted. He kept up the pressure, slowly entered and pushed further in. The pain was exquisite. I wanted it to be over. I wanted it to go on forever. I almost swooned, I moaned and then began to push against his cock as though I had a difficult bowel motion. The pain was intense, but the action seemed to open me up to him He drove in further and further .

I gasped again. "Relax, and push."

It seemed to help between gasps. He pushed on in. The pain was excruciating but soon seemed not to matter, as if pain were really pleasure. Then all the way in, inches further than before, till it seemed as if I'd soon be able to feel it in my throat. I had never felt so full Backwards and forwards, both of us gasping and gazing at each other ,until finally a giant thrust , and Mark lay panting on my chest. I came at the same instant, covering both of us in my cum.

He rolled off, and we lay side by side, silent, until Mark rolled up on one elbow and looked me in the eye.

"I guess you're a real fag now" . He kissed me tenderly.

"I guess so. Yes. YES!"

We were silent for a while. I licked my cum off his chest, and he licked mine. I licked his cock: it tasted of his cum, of lubricant jelly, and a little of shit. It was wonderful. We lay there, luxuriating, for an hour, a month, all night? Suddenly I said.

"Do you know what I want to do now? I want to walk around, dressed really faggy and go shopping with you. Really what I want to do is show off in public, tease you, tease myself, and have you fuck me on a rooftop."

"Sounds real good to me. You looked pretty nice and faggy the way you came, but I have just the thing"

He jumped up, rummaged in a closet, and came up with the perfect shirt. It was in black transparent chiffon, close-fitting round the torso, but with bouffant sleeves gathered into ruffles at the wrists.

"If you wear this I think you should have a little lipstick" "I agree; what good taste you have"

"And these little nipple clips. If they're not jade they at least give the appearance. Pull up the shirt. And a little green eyeshadow to match"

The clips hurt quite a lot, enough to give me an erection again. They looked wonderful through the shirt. The pain took my mind off my sore asshole. I was determined to walk. And so we did. We held hands, walked in and out of shops and bars all over the Village. Mark introduced me to about a dozen of his friends, at least half of whom propositioned me. As Mark looked on indulgently, I smiled at each one, said "Another time" and kissed him on the lips. I was on top of the world. Back to his apartment lusting but languid. Naked again.

"This occasion demands more ceremony," Mark said. "Stand up and close your eyes"

After a pause I felt him return, then something hard inserted deep into my asshole. I gasped, opened my eyes and saw a magnificent white rooster tail rising up my back.

Mark said, "And now for me", and handed me a black horse's tail, equally magnificent. I turned him around, and gently inserted it. We looked wonderful, we had to prance, the tails a perfect balance to our rampant cocks.

"Photographs", Mark said, and pushed a button. At intervals there were flashes, and I knew pictures were being taken. We lay on the bed, under the ceiling mirror (now I saw it!) and examined the pictures.

Mark said, "I want to fuck you again". I said, "You can fuck me in the street if you like, but I want to suck you first"

And so we did, more languorously than before. It was perfect. Suddenly Mark laughed.

"What is it?"

"I was thinking that you'd probably be the belle of the ball".

"Meaning?"

"Damn, I shouldn't have told you. You're not supposed to know until you're officially invited. Michael wants to sponsor you for the coming-out ball. Every year there's a big party to introduce new friends."

"You mean something like a debutantes' ball?".

"Exactly. Something like a coming-out ball. Michael asked me to find out if you would be a suitable 'new friend'. And you are more than suitable. It's a big deal, for the new friends, almost as much fuss as the Miss America pageant"

"You did this all for Michael? I don't believe it."

"No, you know it wasn't for Michael. I was just lucky to get there first. But Michael will certainly want to suggest your going as his protege. And you might very well like it. All the successful ones are exhibitionistic, and most have a feminine side. And you have both, to my surprise."

I lay quietly, considering my new view of life. New sex and new clothes already. And should I become a transvestite too? It was too much. I turned to Mark.

"Let's see if we can reconstruct, word for word, the phone conversation we had last week, when you seduced me. Kinda like phone sex, except lying side by side. And let's make it a game. First one who touches the other loses, and pays a forfeit"

"What forfeit?"

"Whatever the winner says."

"Nice idea. David, it's Mark. We met earlier, remember?"

"I remember."