The next day I got up and ran myself a nice hot bath with some strawberry bubble bath that I had brought over from England. I slipped into the hot water and luxuriated in the soft pink bubbles. I shampooed my hair then put some conditioner on it and lay back in the tub feeling the bubbles tickling me as they popped. I soaped my skinny little body all over, especially around my thighs and cock, making me get an erection. It was an absolutely lovely feeling, I was in heaven. I lay there thinking about Joey, how nice he was. And how pretty he was. I never thought I was gay but I had to admit I was really attracted to him. He was so soft and feminine. I imagined what it would be like to kiss him. He had such a sexy mouth, with soft red pouty lips like a girl. I wondered if he thought I was nice looking. I finally got out of the bath and dried my body, then started the long process of drying my hair. I looked at myself in the mirror, sitting on the bed with the hairdryer, flicking my long hair all about. I did look very feminine, with my smooth little naked body and long slender legs. My girlfriend Helen says I have a girl's face because I have heavy eyelids and a "cute little rosebud mouth". She likes girly boys. God, she would love Joey, I thought. I started to get ready to go over and see Joey. I put on a white silky shirt (a girl's) and my tight blue satin pants, and a pair of blue DeLyss shoes. It was cold out so I threw on my big sheepskin coat. I ventured out into the streets of New York. Hailing a taxi, I rode over to the upper east side, and got out at 453 east 62nd street. I took the elevator up to Apartment 37 on the 3rd floor and rang the bell. The door opened. A young girl of about twenty greeted me, she had very long straight dark brown hair very similar to mine, a beautiful face with brown eyes and a sexy red mouth. She was about five foot six and very slender, petite like a dancer. "Hi, I'm Rachel, you must be Bobby," she said, smiling prettily. "Come in." I followed her into the apartment. It was warm inside. She was wearing a skimpy little peach-coloured top and a very short black skirt and black stockings. She had great legs, long and slender and as I walked behind her I admired her small waist and curvy little bottom. "Take your coat off and come and sit down, honey," she said. She took my coat and put it on a chair. Then she took me by the hand and led me over to the couch. I sat down. "You want a drink?" she said. I said yes I would like a beer, and she brought me one and sat down beside me. I looked down at her blouse, which was open all down the front. I could see the gentle curves of her breasts. They were small but beautiful, just soft little mounds. I could make out her nipples through the semi-transparent material. I love small tits. Joey, you lucky boy, you get to feel those, I thought. "Bobby I'm sorry, but Joey's not here yet, he'll be back soon," she said, "he's still over at Charlie's, sorting out things for the sessions." She looked at me with her pretty brown eyes. I thought she was really cute. "That's OK, I'm not doing anything tonight," I said. "Joey really likes you," she said, "he thinks you are a fantastic bass player. He never stops talking about you." "Really?" I said, "I think he's a brilliant guitarist. I love his playing." Rachel looked into my eyes. "He thinks you're beautiful," she said softly. I felt my heart give a little jump. "Oh," I said, "I really like him too. I think he's lovely. He's really pretty." "So are you," she said, "you look like a girl too." "Everybody says that," I said. She moved closer to me. "I love your hair," she said, and she ran her fingers through my long straight locks. "It's longer than mine," she said, "look." She took a chunk of my hair in her hand and measured it against hers. She leaned against me as she did it and I smelled her perfume. It was faint but sweet, like Opium or something similar and I found it very arousing. "I'm trying to grow it down to my waist," I said. "I love long hair on boys," she said, "I think it's sexy." She stroked my hair gently. It felt nice. I took a sip of my beer and looked around the room. On a cabinet by the window there was a big photograph of a very pretty woman with long blonde wavy hair and blue eyes. She looked familiar. "Who is that?" I asked Rachel, pointing to the picture. "Oh, that's Lesley, Joey's Mom," she said, "isn't she pretty?" "She's beautiful," I said, "wow, Joey looks exactly like her." Now I knew why she looked so familiar. Joey had the same long blonde hair, blue eyes and pretty mouth. I pointed to the picture next to her. "Who are they?" I asked. There was a picture of a good-looking, slightly effeminate man of about thirty with a pretty young girl who looked about ten, next to him. "That's Joey's dad," she said, "he died in a car accident when Joey was eight." "I'm sorry," I said, "Joey never told me." "He was a classical pianist, a very good one too, they say," she added. "Who's the girl?" I asked. "That's Lissy, Joey's big sister," Rachel went on. "She's twenty-one now, she still lives with their mom up on 72nd street. They have a beautiful apartment." "Lissy looks like her dad," I said. "Yes. She's a lovely girl," Rachel said. "Lissy practically raised Joey herself after their dad died because their mom was always out working. She was a dancer." I was staring at Rachel's pretty red mouth as she spoke. Her lips looked so soft and sexy. I had a sudden wild desire to kiss her but I restrained myself. Suddenly the doorbell rang. "It's got to be Joey," said Rachel. She got up and went to answer it. "Hi sweetie," I heard from the hallway. After a few seconds in came Joey like a ray of sunshine. He looked beautiful. He took his coat off and threw it on the chair over mine. "Sorry I'm late," he said, "I was talking shop with Charlie." Rachel came back in and sat next to me again. Joey sat opposite us in a big armchair. He was wearing a little turquoise camisole top with multicoloured butterflies on it which showed his beautiful slender arms. He had on red satin pants and cute little red boots. His mass of long blonde wavy hair fell down over his skinny shoulders, golden and radiant. I thought he was the prettiest boy I had ever seen. "Rachel's been telling me your life story," I said. "And showing me the family photos. Your Mom is beautiful. You look exactly like her," I added. "Everybody says that," said Joey, twirling a strand of his hair between his fingers. He looked so feminine and girly. "I like your top," I said, "I love butterflies." "It's mine," said Rachel. "He's always stealing my stuff." "It suits him," I said, "I love to wear girl's stuff too. This is a girl's shirt." I pointed to my shirt. "I got it from a ladies shop in London," I said confidentially, "I told them it was for my girlfriend." Rachel reached over to me and ran her fingertips down the front of my shirt. I felt a little thrill at her delicate touch. "It's so pretty," she said, "I'd love to borrow it. But it looks really good on you, it goes with your lovely long hair." "Bobby's hair is just like yours Rachel," said Joey, "the same colour. But it's even longer I think." Joey came and knelt on the floor in front of us. He took a chunk of my hair and some of Rachel's in his hands and compared them. "Yes, Bobby, you win the long hair contest!" He giggled and looked at me. He looked so cute when he laughed, like a young girl. Becoming bold, I reached out and ran my fingers gently through his soft fluffy hair. "Your hair is the prettiest," I said, "it's beautiful, just like your mommy's." "Ooh, I love boys with long hair," said Rachel, and she started running her fingers through both our hair. "You are both so pretty. I want to kiss you!" She bent forward and gave Joey a sweet soft little kiss on the lips, and then she turned to me and kissed me softly on the mouth too. "Welcome to New York Bobby," she said, and she took my hand and squeezed it gently. "I think she likes you," said Joey. "I love feminine boys," she said, "you both look so cute in your pretty clothes. You look like two girls." Joey giggled, and then he went and sat back on the armchair and tossed his pretty head back girlishly. He had some of Rachel's lipstick on his lips, making him look even more like a girl. I turned and looked at Rachel in her skimpy off-the-shoulder little top, her long dark hair flowing over her pretty bare shoulders. "That's a nice top Rachel, it's very sexy," I said. "Oh, thank you," she said, "I got it at Uptown Girl, it's such a pretty colour, isn't it?" "Yes, it's gorgeous," I said, "it really suits you." She gave me a curious look. "I'd love to see it on you Bobby," she said, taking me by surprise. "I bet you daren't try it on." "It's very feminine," I said nervously, "even for me." She giggled naughtily. "Joey loves to put it on." I imagined Joey wearing it and I began to get strange sexy feelings. "It feels lovely on," said Joey, "try it, Bobby, I bet it would look great on you." "I tell you what," said Rachel, "let's swap, I'll put your shirt on and you put my top on." She smiled mischievously. "I'm dying to wear your shirt, it's so pretty," she added. She stroked the front of my shirt. I felt my heart beating fast. "OK," I said, "here goes." I unbuttoned my shirt all the way down and pulled it out of my pants. Then I unbuttoned the sleeves and slipped it right off. I was naked from the waist up. It was a nice feeling. I handed Rachel my shirt. She was staring at my naked chest. "Bobby, you're beautiful, you have lovely skin, so smooth for a boy," said Rachel, admiring my slender girlish body. She reached over and touched my chest with her fingertips, causing sexy tingles to go through me. "Pretty English boy," she said. "You're so soft. Like a girl." She ran her fingers down my bare chest. I shivered slightly at her gentle touch. "You have such cute little nipples," she said, "they're brown. Joey's are pink." "Oh," I said as her fingers brushed my right nipple, "that feels nice." Joey watched as his girlfriend stroked my chest. "Rachel's are brown like yours," he said. This was turning out to be the sexiest night of my life. "Ooh, I gotta try this on," said Rachel, gathering up my white satin shirt. She looked at the label. "Miss Selfridge," she said, "is that a London store?" "Yes," I answered her, "all the younger ladies go there." "I'll be right back." She disappeared into the bedroom.
To be continued...if you like my story please email me at sweetlissy2001@yahoo.co.uk