I trotted down the stairs of my railroad flat on Guerrero to let Jack in. He was breathless and excited coming in from the night. He carried a large paper grocery bag filled with clothing and a boom box. Since he had been in my apartment before, he zipped by me, navigating the familiar cluttered stairs with ease, and up to the landing but stopped and set his items down at the top of the stairs and said, “Whoa!” and zipped back down to scoop me up and bury his nose in my neck. “Damn!” he said as he pulled back. “ You smell deeeeeelicious!” True I did at that. I had showered with Mango scented soap and perfumed with Vanilla cologne. I knew he had a sweet tooth. He smelled like...well..how a boy smelled; kinda sweaty but not too bad, and cookies, and coffee...that he had eaten- I guess- at the Cafe. Tonight’s seduction had the potential of being like shooting fish in a barrel. Then again-maybe he was one of these self-actualized straight men that had zero hang ups? I thought about it. Naw!
“What’s in the bag?” I pushed it slightly with my toe. He grinned his enormously tooth-filled grin and grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me down the hall into the dining room/living room. He pulled clothing out and several sheets of paper with writing on them. He carefully laid out each item on the couch. There was a baseball cap, a white crew neck t-shirt, a pair of black Converse high tops, a pair of denim board shorts with a design on them that looked like graffiti-and lastly a pack of cigarettes. “ Please put this on.” he asked.
“What?” I was thrown. “Why?”
“It’s the outfit you wore when we were first fell in love-well when Austin met Ralph and fell in love. See! I wrote it all down here. Go ahead and read it and we can re-enact it to help with our sense memory.” I scanned the pages he handed to me. He had penned a very detailed account of our two characters attending a dance party in Central Park on Gay Pride in New York City. They met and started dancing to a song by The Cure called simply “Love Song” ...which he had brought a cassette tape of. (Hey it was the early 90’s)
“Whenever I’m alone with you...you make me feel like I am whole again” I looked at him as he hummed it. He came up real close and said softly, “ Will you please put the clothes on?” He kind of hypnotized me with his big chocolatey pools fringed with long lashes. I dazedly wandered into my bed room to change. I was still a little inebriated but not at the slurring or stumbling point but that could easily change with one tiny swig. The toughest part was the high tops. I never wore sneakers like that so they felt peculiar and I thought I was going to trip over my feet as I returned to the dining room/living room. I don’t think I looked particular sexy.
He lit up when I arrived. He had changed too! Into a pair of jeans that hung seductively off his hips and a wife beater that hugged every curve of perfectly sculpted, taut swimmer’s frame. I looked at his muscular arms, chest and shoulders and had an awful lot of trouble trying to string two words together in my mind. His shiny jet black hair hung loosely around his brow. I tried to look at his eyes, but kept drifting back to his nipples as they poked out happily against the ribbed fabric of the tank top. He smiled and said, “Ready?” Some common sense reached out to me from this bubbling cauldron of desire I was turning into. “ I dunno Jack...I’ve been drinking. I just don’t want to...make a mistake.” He looked surprised. It was pretty obvious I was afraid of falling hopelessly in love with him but I caught myself. “ I mean...isn’t it a threat to your sobriety? Being around someone else who is intoxicated?”
“-Hey!” he said and placed a forefinger against my lips to shush me. Wait .a thought flashed in my brain..didn’t straight boys always have a problem remembering to wash their hands after they went to the bathroom? I pulled his finger away from my lips. He said, “ Let me worry about that P.A. You are not responsible for my actions.” hmph How very AA. I reached for my Bloody Screw. “You’re telling me this is okay?” as I took that fatal swig, stuffing any common sense I had in me so far down that it had a snowball’s chance in HADES of ever surfacing during the remainder of the night. He leaned forward and didn’t sniff the glass but sniffed my lips instead, narrowly brushing them with his own as he did this. “MMMM!” he murmured. A light smile danced on his sensuous mouth. “ Vodka! very nice! You can relax..I was always a Whiskey and Bourbon guy” I laughed an absurdly sounding giggle. OF COURSE he was a Whiskey and Bourbon guy...that made ALLL of this Okay!!!
He reviewed the scenario. “ Okay. Gay Pride. A beautiful sunny slightly cloudy day in Central Park. We bumped into each other while we were at the beer booth with friends but just cruised each other first”
“Who taught you ‘cruised’??”
“Al Pacino” he shot back at me. “ Wait! We almost forgot the rest of your look.” He put the baseball cap on me backwards and took the pack of cigarettes and rolled them up into my left sleeve and then proceeded to roll up my right sleeve. “Sheesh” I said, “Such details!”
“ It’s important to me.”
“ okay okay-relax” When his brows went up like a disappointed Labrador I had to give in. He put the cassette in the boom box and pressed play. When he bent over to do that he showed a slightly fuzzy plumber’s crack. I felt my Mr. Happy jump in my shorts. The music started to play and I heard the singers sultry promises of love. He swayed and I shuffled my feet around, trying not to trip on the sneakers. He looked at me after disengaging from some ecstasy that the music transported him to and his face was different. He looked hungry and it was kind of scary in a way. He held his hand out to me. I wavered but took it. He slowly reeled me in holding me close to him while our hips swayed to the music. Our noses were beginning to touch and ever so gently our bottom lips brushed together. I got brave and reached up and caressed his unshaven cheek. He held my hand and kissed my palm. I fell into those huge brown eyes -and I was the hungry one. I just kissed him firmly, holding the back of his head and he slowly yielded his mouth to my tongue and let out a little moan. “ Wow” he whispered, “Kissing a guy is so different!” Mr. Happy was unabashedly throbbing in my pants. Jack grinned and traced the outline of my cock through my shorts and let out another soft, “Wow!” I thought it was pretty amazing that he found kissing me a unique experience because -quite frankly- kissing him was different then kissing other men. He was gentle like a tentative but cooperative young girl (with stubble) about to lose her virginity. I know I know - How the hell would PA know what THAT feels like?? Don’t worry - we will save that story for another blog. - Back to Jack
We tumbled on to the couch and fumbled with clothing and kissing and licking. He was clearly having a great time. I, on the other hand, was falling in love HARD!!! That mixed with my sexual drive was making me unstoppable. I was determined that we were going to do everything before the night was over...then maybe take a nap and do it again. I nibbled, I licked, I squeezed and dry humped and soon we were naked and headed down to my bedroom. I looked upward and thanked God that my room mate was out for the evening and flung him on to the Futon. “Man you are forceful!!! Are all guys as hardcore as you are?” I resisted the impulse to yip with laughter and said, “Well with most women...not all..they don’t like it rough.” Another absurd thought that I was an authority on sex with women as a 27 homosexual. I continued, “ Guys think about sex way more and are so horny so ...you can be a little rougher with each other. Women are more intellectual about sex..but It doesn’t mean you can’t be tender too. “ I leaned down to demonstrate and he interrupted asking me, “ Hey - can I suck your cock?”
“Um sure...go for it.”
He grasped me and proceeded to mouth and suck it. It was a little clumsy but pleasurable -I told him how to watch his teeth by folding your lips over them. He did this for a total of 3 minutes and then spit and went “Yuk! I don’t like giving head. - Hey...will you fuck me? But start slow okay? My girlfriend always starts slow and then I can take it as hard as you want.”
Wait...back that up...” Girlfriend!!!?” I squawked.
“yup..she’s not a he/she or anything. She does it with a dildo.” I almost lost my hard on hearing that but then he saw what was happening and started kissing me very very passionately and I was good to go again. He got on his hands and knees to assume the position- Alrighty THEN! I slipped on the condom from the large box under my bed and lathered it with lubricant and proceeded to prep Jack using my fingers and extra dollops of lube.
He squeaked, “ hey it’s cold!”
“Sorry, I’ll warm it up for you” and gave him a quasi prostate massage that made him whimper and groan. -I was a tad nervous about what a straight guy’s version of deep “before sex” cleaning would be, but Jack seemed to be prepared for deep investigation. That porn star girlfriend of his taught him well. I prepared to enter and slipped just the tip in. Here’s when I have to tell you that I am as averagely endowed as average can be. No Pornstar career for me. Nude scenes on stage freak me out because Mr. Happy is quite shy. The last play I did nude, I am sure the audience wondered if I even HAD a penis. Remembering my lines and getting semi-erect on stage is difficult for me, and if there is a draft from off stage -well... forget it. However one on one, when Mr. Happy is genuinely Happy...he shows it and gets the job done. At the time Mr. Happy was Happy with what Jack presented to him but, I only managed to insert the tip in when Jack let out a incredibly LOUD caterwaul that the whole building heard I am sure. Its not like the tip of my penis is a beer can, and I entered as gently as I could. He shook the hell out of my futon. I thought he might’ve been having a stroke.. but he was apparently experiencing an orgasm. “Um....you okay...? “ ,I asked.
He flipped over on his back and panted.. “ Oh...MY...God!” he gasped. “That was fucking amazing!!!”
“Really?” I was bewildered as to how he could’ve attained orgasm from what I did. I was on my knees to his right while Mr. Happy strained to go back to the nice warm place he just tried to slide into. I peeled off the condom and Jack looked over at Mr. Happy and pursed his lips and looked uncomfortable. “ Um...You want help to...?” he gestured at his wet stomach. I lay next to him and instructed him to kiss me. He did as he was told while I took care of Mr. Happy with Mr. Handy. His passion and excitement had cooled considerably and his kisses were even more passive than before. I felt him trying to focus on the task at hand. Eventually Mr. Handy did the job and that seemed to fascinate Jack for it’s duration. Then he grabbed the towel and hopped off the bed. “That was fun eh?”
Well - the end of the evening was about as cliche as cliche could be. I was left amazed and wondered what the hell just happened to me. Jack called out as he merrily dashed down the stairs. “ THANKS PA! The scene’s gonna be GREAT!”
I put on my robe and poured another drink. What the hell was he talking about? Our character’s never do anything remotely loving or sexual on stage. He’s sweet and good looking and my character is a one dimensional nasty bitch to him until the bitter end. Why did he need to...? Oh well. I ended up pining after him hoping for another encounter after rehearsals or performances but he wasn’t remotely interested. Which infuriated me and there was absolutely no reason for me to “act” when it came to being cruel to his character on stage..hey!.... wait just a darn minute!!!! No wonder Kate Bornstein, (famous tranny writer/performer who reviewed the play for the Bay Area Reporter), wrote about me. “ I hope P.A. Cooley really isn’t that way!”
I was a real bitch...and it made me a star.
“What’s in the bag?” I pushed it slightly with my toe. He grinned his enormously tooth-filled grin and grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me down the hall into the dining room/living room. He pulled clothing out and several sheets of paper with writing on them. He carefully laid out each item on the couch. There was a baseball cap, a white crew neck t-shirt, a pair of black Converse high tops, a pair of denim board shorts with a design on them that looked like graffiti-and lastly a pack of cigarettes. “ Please put this on.” he asked.
“What?” I was thrown. “Why?”
“It’s the outfit you wore when we were first fell in love-well when Austin met Ralph and fell in love. See! I wrote it all down here. Go ahead and read it and we can re-enact it to help with our sense memory.” I scanned the pages he handed to me. He had penned a very detailed account of our two characters attending a dance party in Central Park on Gay Pride in New York City. They met and started dancing to a song by The Cure called simply “Love Song” ...which he had brought a cassette tape of. (Hey it was the early 90’s)
“Whenever I’m alone with you...you make me feel like I am whole again” I looked at him as he hummed it. He came up real close and said softly, “ Will you please put the clothes on?” He kind of hypnotized me with his big chocolatey pools fringed with long lashes. I dazedly wandered into my bed room to change. I was still a little inebriated but not at the slurring or stumbling point but that could easily change with one tiny swig. The toughest part was the high tops. I never wore sneakers like that so they felt peculiar and I thought I was going to trip over my feet as I returned to the dining room/living room. I don’t think I looked particular sexy.
He lit up when I arrived. He had changed too! Into a pair of jeans that hung seductively off his hips and a wife beater that hugged every curve of perfectly sculpted, taut swimmer’s frame. I looked at his muscular arms, chest and shoulders and had an awful lot of trouble trying to string two words together in my mind. His shiny jet black hair hung loosely around his brow. I tried to look at his eyes, but kept drifting back to his nipples as they poked out happily against the ribbed fabric of the tank top. He smiled and said, “Ready?” Some common sense reached out to me from this bubbling cauldron of desire I was turning into. “ I dunno Jack...I’ve been drinking. I just don’t want to...make a mistake.” He looked surprised. It was pretty obvious I was afraid of falling hopelessly in love with him but I caught myself. “ I mean...isn’t it a threat to your sobriety? Being around someone else who is intoxicated?”
“-Hey!” he said and placed a forefinger against my lips to shush me. Wait .a thought flashed in my brain..didn’t straight boys always have a problem remembering to wash their hands after they went to the bathroom? I pulled his finger away from my lips. He said, “ Let me worry about that P.A. You are not responsible for my actions.” hmph How very AA. I reached for my Bloody Screw. “You’re telling me this is okay?” as I took that fatal swig, stuffing any common sense I had in me so far down that it had a snowball’s chance in HADES of ever surfacing during the remainder of the night. He leaned forward and didn’t sniff the glass but sniffed my lips instead, narrowly brushing them with his own as he did this. “MMMM!” he murmured. A light smile danced on his sensuous mouth. “ Vodka! very nice! You can relax..I was always a Whiskey and Bourbon guy” I laughed an absurdly sounding giggle. OF COURSE he was a Whiskey and Bourbon guy...that made ALLL of this Okay!!!
He reviewed the scenario. “ Okay. Gay Pride. A beautiful sunny slightly cloudy day in Central Park. We bumped into each other while we were at the beer booth with friends but just cruised each other first”
“Who taught you ‘cruised’??”
“Al Pacino” he shot back at me. “ Wait! We almost forgot the rest of your look.” He put the baseball cap on me backwards and took the pack of cigarettes and rolled them up into my left sleeve and then proceeded to roll up my right sleeve. “Sheesh” I said, “Such details!”
“ It’s important to me.”
“ okay okay-relax” When his brows went up like a disappointed Labrador I had to give in. He put the cassette in the boom box and pressed play. When he bent over to do that he showed a slightly fuzzy plumber’s crack. I felt my Mr. Happy jump in my shorts. The music started to play and I heard the singers sultry promises of love. He swayed and I shuffled my feet around, trying not to trip on the sneakers. He looked at me after disengaging from some ecstasy that the music transported him to and his face was different. He looked hungry and it was kind of scary in a way. He held his hand out to me. I wavered but took it. He slowly reeled me in holding me close to him while our hips swayed to the music. Our noses were beginning to touch and ever so gently our bottom lips brushed together. I got brave and reached up and caressed his unshaven cheek. He held my hand and kissed my palm. I fell into those huge brown eyes -and I was the hungry one. I just kissed him firmly, holding the back of his head and he slowly yielded his mouth to my tongue and let out a little moan. “ Wow” he whispered, “Kissing a guy is so different!” Mr. Happy was unabashedly throbbing in my pants. Jack grinned and traced the outline of my cock through my shorts and let out another soft, “Wow!” I thought it was pretty amazing that he found kissing me a unique experience because -quite frankly- kissing him was different then kissing other men. He was gentle like a tentative but cooperative young girl (with stubble) about to lose her virginity. I know I know - How the hell would PA know what THAT feels like?? Don’t worry - we will save that story for another blog. - Back to Jack
We tumbled on to the couch and fumbled with clothing and kissing and licking. He was clearly having a great time. I, on the other hand, was falling in love HARD!!! That mixed with my sexual drive was making me unstoppable. I was determined that we were going to do everything before the night was over...then maybe take a nap and do it again. I nibbled, I licked, I squeezed and dry humped and soon we were naked and headed down to my bedroom. I looked upward and thanked God that my room mate was out for the evening and flung him on to the Futon. “Man you are forceful!!! Are all guys as hardcore as you are?” I resisted the impulse to yip with laughter and said, “Well with most women...not all..they don’t like it rough.” Another absurd thought that I was an authority on sex with women as a 27 homosexual. I continued, “ Guys think about sex way more and are so horny so ...you can be a little rougher with each other. Women are more intellectual about sex..but It doesn’t mean you can’t be tender too. “ I leaned down to demonstrate and he interrupted asking me, “ Hey - can I suck your cock?”
“Um sure...go for it.”
He grasped me and proceeded to mouth and suck it. It was a little clumsy but pleasurable -I told him how to watch his teeth by folding your lips over them. He did this for a total of 3 minutes and then spit and went “Yuk! I don’t like giving head. - Hey...will you fuck me? But start slow okay? My girlfriend always starts slow and then I can take it as hard as you want.”
Wait...back that up...” Girlfriend!!!?” I squawked.
“yup..she’s not a he/she or anything. She does it with a dildo.” I almost lost my hard on hearing that but then he saw what was happening and started kissing me very very passionately and I was good to go again. He got on his hands and knees to assume the position- Alrighty THEN! I slipped on the condom from the large box under my bed and lathered it with lubricant and proceeded to prep Jack using my fingers and extra dollops of lube.
He squeaked, “ hey it’s cold!”
“Sorry, I’ll warm it up for you” and gave him a quasi prostate massage that made him whimper and groan. -I was a tad nervous about what a straight guy’s version of deep “before sex” cleaning would be, but Jack seemed to be prepared for deep investigation. That porn star girlfriend of his taught him well. I prepared to enter and slipped just the tip in. Here’s when I have to tell you that I am as averagely endowed as average can be. No Pornstar career for me. Nude scenes on stage freak me out because Mr. Happy is quite shy. The last play I did nude, I am sure the audience wondered if I even HAD a penis. Remembering my lines and getting semi-erect on stage is difficult for me, and if there is a draft from off stage -well... forget it. However one on one, when Mr. Happy is genuinely Happy...he shows it and gets the job done. At the time Mr. Happy was Happy with what Jack presented to him but, I only managed to insert the tip in when Jack let out a incredibly LOUD caterwaul that the whole building heard I am sure. Its not like the tip of my penis is a beer can, and I entered as gently as I could. He shook the hell out of my futon. I thought he might’ve been having a stroke.. but he was apparently experiencing an orgasm. “Um....you okay...? “ ,I asked.
He flipped over on his back and panted.. “ Oh...MY...God!” he gasped. “That was fucking amazing!!!”
“Really?” I was bewildered as to how he could’ve attained orgasm from what I did. I was on my knees to his right while Mr. Happy strained to go back to the nice warm place he just tried to slide into. I peeled off the condom and Jack looked over at Mr. Happy and pursed his lips and looked uncomfortable. “ Um...You want help to...?” he gestured at his wet stomach. I lay next to him and instructed him to kiss me. He did as he was told while I took care of Mr. Happy with Mr. Handy. His passion and excitement had cooled considerably and his kisses were even more passive than before. I felt him trying to focus on the task at hand. Eventually Mr. Handy did the job and that seemed to fascinate Jack for it’s duration. Then he grabbed the towel and hopped off the bed. “That was fun eh?”
Well - the end of the evening was about as cliche as cliche could be. I was left amazed and wondered what the hell just happened to me. Jack called out as he merrily dashed down the stairs. “ THANKS PA! The scene’s gonna be GREAT!”
I put on my robe and poured another drink. What the hell was he talking about? Our character’s never do anything remotely loving or sexual on stage. He’s sweet and good looking and my character is a one dimensional nasty bitch to him until the bitter end. Why did he need to...? Oh well. I ended up pining after him hoping for another encounter after rehearsals or performances but he wasn’t remotely interested. Which infuriated me and there was absolutely no reason for me to “act” when it came to being cruel to his character on stage..hey!.... wait just a darn minute!!!! No wonder Kate Bornstein, (famous tranny writer/performer who reviewed the play for the Bay Area Reporter), wrote about me. “ I hope P.A. Cooley really isn’t that way!”
I was a real bitch...and it made me a star.
