Sweet Pauly Purebred

Oh no. I was supposed to have dinner with my grandparents. I dashed to the bathroom and grabbed my clothes.

Roxie was awake and confused, entirely naked, hair a mess, as she leaned up on one elbow. "Where? What are you...?"

"I'm late. Shit. Grandma is going to kill me."

Realization hit her face. "Oh no! Can I help?"

I had the girls clothes off and was pulling my pants up. "No, just gotta go. Sorry."

I ran to the bed to kiss the beautiful girl before I fled out the door, still struggling to get my second arm through the correct hole in my shirt.

-----

"How can you disrespect your family like this?"

"Do you know how much your grandfather sacrificed for you to have opportunities here, how hard he worked for you?"

Between the two angry women I could see the back of Grandfather's chair, his head shaking slowly.

"And this how you repay him?"

"How low can you go?" It was the closest to American slang Grandmother would go, but she loved that phrase.

"You are grounded until you learn to show respect."

I had stomped to my upstairs room before I even considered that I was an adult, not a child to be grounded because I'm late to dinner.

I was Small Paul and always had been. Few things could make me feel smaller than I already did. One of those things was the one-two impact of Mother and Grandmother agreeing on how wrong I was, how disrespectful, how low. They rarely agreed on anything but my failings.

Low. Those tormented for being undersized understand the hurt behind Low. And being Looked Down on, Short Changed, Short-sighted. I tried so fucking hard to "be a Big Boy" to make the big people around me happy.

My room at my grandparents' house was sparse. So was my real room, at the two bedroom condo I shared with Mother. I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled.

As bad as the women's reactions had been to my late arrival, I could only imagine their faces if I hadn't washed off the make-up during a quick stop on my way rushing home.

"Happy news, honored family: this afternoon, I lost my virginity, tried marijuana, and found out I may be attracted to girls as well as being gay, all while wearing a bra and panties! We should celebrate.

"What's that? The girl? She's a redheaded Anglo. And no, I didn't use a condom."

I covered my mouth to stifle the giggle. But couldn't stop the inner one-sided dialogue.

"If we're celebrating, can I invite a friend from school? He's got a crush on the inner girl that's starting to come out in me. Yes, the redhead does too. I think she may be a lesbian, since she kept asking me to fuck her with my clit. Yes: clit. That's what she called my hard cock, Grandma."

An image of Mother's and Grandmother's horrified faces at my words changed to them melting like the Witch of the West at the shock of my revelation.

Saturday I stayed quiet and invisible as I could. I had years of practice in the art. Sunday, I ate breakfast before retiring to my room again. I couldn't use the phone to call Roxie; my Mother would hear.

I climbed out my bedroom window and ran to Roxie's place. Catching my breath I told her about Matthew and his request to see "her" again, with Roxie as the safety chaperone.

"I can't, Paul. I am so sorry. I promised my little sister I'd take her dress shopping for her big dance. Even if I can't walk with you, I can still help get you ready."

Other than a hug and a quick peck on the lips, it was almost as if Friday never happened. Roxie helped pick out a tiered skirt that almost gave me hips, and a crop top that showed off my flat tummy.

Smart girl, she selected shoes that had only a small heel. I had to be able to walk, after all, but they still pointed my toes enough to accentuate my lovely calves, as Roxie pointed out.

I went into the bathroom to dress.

"When you're dressed I'll do your face." It didn't work out quite that way.

I did dress, starting with my underthings. This time the bra was red, a hint of the straps showing around the thin straps of the top after I'd pulled it over my head. Sheer white thigh-highs covered my legs. I had to run my hands over them more than once, delighting both my fingers and my legs with the sensation.

I called to Roxie.

"Oh my god, Paul. Part of my brain kept telling me that there is no way you looked so beautiful the other day, but it's true. You are gorgeous."

Her blue eyes looked at me with a look I couldn't quite determine until she bit her lip.

"You really think so, huh?"

"Uh huh." She nodded. "I know so."

"Paul, I'm sorry, but I think I need to kiss you." She threw herself on me then, tongue pushing past my lips, lush body pressing against my lean one. Her hips moved against me.

A hand slipped between us, found my swelling 'clit.' Roxie groaned into my mouth.

"Please," she whispered against my lips. "I've been thinking about this since you left, beautiful girl."

She slid down my body, briefly kissing my bare tummy before her knees landed on the tile floor. I watched her lift my skirt, saw her mouth make a silent "Oh."

I felt her breath on my sensitive skin after her hands lowered the front of my thin panties. I moaned, grabbing the back of her head as I felt my cock taken into her warm wet mouth. She raised her eyes to mine as she began to swirl her tongue over my head. "Mmmmm."

I began to move my hips into her, fingers a massaging her neck. I felt one hand softly cup my already tightening balls, stroking with a feathery touch. My breath grew shorter, more ragged. Her other hand wrapped around my shaft, squeezing and pumping in small motions below her mouth.

The lower hand wandered further. My breath caught with a gasp when a finger found my tiny sphincter and began small light circles over it.

The finger pushed and I cried out "Roxie!"

Her lips left me with a audible pop, while the hand around my shaft pumped harder. I felt far fuller than a single slim finger could possibly cause. I came.

The first spasm sent a whitish stream across her nose and lips. "Oh fuck yes!" I heard. The second and third striped one cheek and added to the mess on her lips and chin. More slippery cum oozed over her pumping fingers as I leaned back against the closed door, my legs shaking.

Roxie stood, turning away from me. She leaned over the sink, her face a mess in the mirror. Her hands pulled down her lose pajama pants, exposing her round, pale ass. Her eyes found mine reflected in the mirror.

"Please, baby. Put that big clit of yours inside me. Just for a minute. Please."

I was still hard, and did as she begged. She was wet and I was slick with my own cum; I slipped right into her tight opening, grabbing her soft curving hips.

"Yes." She made no sound but I saw her lips, covered with my cum, mouth the single word. She slipped a hand underneath herself. I felt her tighten as she began to touch her own real clit.

I pulled her back onto to my cock, my hips pumping into her hard as I'd resisted doing to her mouth earlier. A flush of red began to spread down Roxie's body as muscles flexed tight.

"So good, baby. So good. Fuck me, beautiful girl!" The words trailed off into a guttural growl as her eyes squeezed shut. Her back bumped up then arched hard as she came. Her pussy squeezed down on me so hard it forced my slippery 'clit' out.

Instead of trying to force myself back in as she clenched down, I dropped down without conscious thought behind her. Pussy and puckered little ass clenched and released, clenched and released in front of my eyes.

Leaning forward, I pressed my face between her two round cheeks. My tongue found her wet slit close to where her fingers still circled. She tasted slightly tangy. My tongue ran up along her slit and over ass, pausing briefly on her smaller naughtier hole.

Her ass cheeks clenched tight, then shook, shuddering at my tongue's touch. With my hands on her hips, I felt Roxie writhe with the sensation, her ass lifting to meet my kiss. I pulled back as she collapsed over the counter, panting.

After she recovered, she insisted I hold her close on her bed. She purred and rubbed her face against my shoulder when one hand stroked her hair.

I realized I felt more like a man, comforting this wonderful girl after sex, then I had ever felt dressed in my own, male clothes. I suppressed a giggle at the thought. Wasn't a man supposed to make his woman collapse after giving her an orgasm like that, making her beg for him to fill her up, then hold her and comfort her?

Soon, she was ready to apply my make-up, leading me by the hand to the bathroom. I studied what she did this time, the subtle blush added to cheeks, the way the eye make-up extended my eyes outward before shading them in away they seemed bigger, brighter than Paul's.

I saw by her face she was considering something. "Wait here."

She hurried out the door. When she returned, she was all smiles. "Bonnie says it's fine if we go shopping later this afternoon. Let's go to the park and show you off for your hipster photographer slash peeping tom boyfriend."

I opened my mouth to protest but she cut me off. "That's a joke, silly."

Perfect. I had resigned myself to walking in the park alone, dressed this way, but it scared me. Especially after Matthew's reaction to the idea.

-----

The day was beautiful and so was I. We followed the main walking path that wound through the park, sharing it with parents with strollers, dogs with owners, and anyone else enjoying a perfect day. Roxie assured me that we would be in the rose garden by 11.

Walkers smiled and wished us good mornings and days. Heads turned our way, but they seems to do so in a less aggressive, prey-seeking way than they had on the corner. Roxie laughed at me when I started skipping. I liked the way it made my skirt bounce. More than once she took my hand, entwining her fingers in mine.

I felt no urge to look around, and Roxie did a wonderful job of acting like she knew nothing about a secret watcher. I realized then that I liked being watched. Just knowing someone wanted to see me - to see the me he called 'her' - walking in the park made me smile outside and feel a warm glow inside.

As we completed our second loop through the roses, it was getting closer to noon and Roxie had to meet her sister. She hugged me close before heading home. I insisted on making one more pass through the garden, alone, then following her so I could change back into Paul's clothes. More smiles greeted me as I took my time to stop, bend close, and sniff at a few of the most spectacular blooms. I warmed at the thought of Matt watching, capturing 'her' as she posed.

West of the rose garden, in the direction of Roxie's, the park narrowed, bordered by a row of houses behind a row of dense trees on one side and the road on the other. Alone, I almost broke into another bout of skipping, delighted to be watched, to be loved and accepted and...

"Gorgeous!" The voice came from the opening window of a large BMW pulling snug against the curb beside me, the driver's door already easing opening. I almost felt the strong baritone voice physically vibrating up my spine. "I've been looking for you, little girl."

I froze. Curly Burly Pinstripe leaned toward the open window, his thick arm straining against his shirt sleeve as he yanked up the brake. His smile was as friendly and wide as a great white shark rising under an unsuspecting seal lion. The way he leared the word 'girl' made it clear he suspected things were more complicated than that.

The big car jolted to a full stop, tires chirping. He moved quickly around the car for such bulky frame. Predators are rarely slow once prey is within their range.

"You and I are going to spend some quality time together." One meaty hand locked on my bare upper arm, tugging me off balance, as the other pulled open the passenger door. I couldn't think, I couldn't resist, I couldn't cry out.

His other hand was on my neck, pushing me down like a cop forcing someone in handcuffs into a cruiser, like a crude wordless request for a blowjob.

"No! Stop! I don't want this." Finally words came out, my frozen posture coming to my aid.

"Yes you do, little bitch." He hissed near my ear. Then the baritone was back, lower, smoother. "Quit the struggling, cutie. Admit it. You traps all want the big bad bear to give you what you're too scared to come out and ask for."

I tried to pull back away from the car, but stumbled over my own unfamiliar shoes. My stumble caused me to bend over enough for his next rough tug to force me half into the car.

I vaguely heard a distant "Hey!" and a "Let her go!" Others in the park were noticing even if they weren't close.

"Ow!" The bear growled. "What the...?" His grip Jerked away, off my arm. I saw a bright red line on his broad, angry face. "Ow! Fuck!"

As his hand covered the cheek, he recoiled again. More red near his temple.

I tried to run, taking only two steps before I fell on the grass, crying. I heard other footsteps, running more successfully. "Stop! Get away from that girl!"

The BMW screeched away, doors swinging shut as it went. I glimpsed a thick drip of blood running down from Curly's temple, rage covering his face, before running legs stopped in front of me.

"Are you alright?"

"Did he hurt you?"

"Somebody, call the police. Did anyone get the license?"

The voices blurred together. I buried my face in my hands.

The police delivered me to my grandparents' house, dropping off a girl to a family that only had a boy my age.

The next day I spoke into the inky blackness of the darkroom. "She says 'thank you.'"

"For what?"

"I'm not sure. A slingshot? For enough delay to make a scary man run away."

"BB gun."

"That makes sense. Nice shooting."

"Thanks."

"She'd like to...thank you herself."

"How?"

"Just don't move, and leave the light off. I'll let her answer that one."

I let the heavy sealing door make as much noise as the gasket would allow, then waited before opening it again. Paul left; Pauly entered.

I knew where Matthew had been, assumed he'd stay put. I knew the darkroom well. He gasped in the dark when my outstretched hands found his back. I felt a tremor run down his spine.

I found lean muscles as my hands ran down his flanks to his waist. So different from Roxie's body. As I realized he was more nervous than I was, my confidence soared.

I was rock hard in my pants. As my exploring hands slipped around him I found he was too. I was careful not to press against him with my own erection: this was "her" touching him in the dark. I heard a deep exhale as a shudder passed through him. My hands encouraged him to turn, to face me. One traced his long outline through his jeans while the other found his belt.

I had to use both hands to free him, to tug his jeans down over his hips, as I lowered myself. The next shudder was deeper as fingers wrapped around a slightly curving, very rigid shaft, pumped, feeling my warm breath close in the dark. My hand had only felt my own before now. This felt familiar, yet very different. Definitely thicker.

Matthew leaned back against the counter behind him, his legs shaking slightly. He rewarded me with a groan when my lips found the swollen head, protruding beyond my pumping fingers and thicker than the shaft. I licked the tip, then under it, before letting the bulb fully past my lips. It surprised me, forcing my jaw wide as it slid back over my tongue.

Even in the total absence of light, I closed my eyes and pictured what Roxie had done to me with her mouth. I licked, flicked, sucked. My hand pumped.

Matthew's breath was ragged and loud, his thighs shook. He moaned, loud and almost mournful before his hips thrust forward. My fingers banged against my lips, prevented him from pushing in too deep. Still, my mouth felt stretched wide.

The moan tapered off to a staccato series of grunts, each matched to a pulsing swelling of his cock on my tongue. My thumb, wrapped under his shaft, felt each pump of his cum before it flooded my mouth.

I think I moaned with him as I sucked and swallowed, in a panic to take it all in, eager and encouraging more. Knowing how terribly sensitive my own head became at this point, I kept my slowing fingers further down the shaft, eased my lips from around him with one final soft swirl of my tongue after the last pumping spasm.

Rising to my feet in front of him, my hands found his jeans and belt. His larger, stronger ones covered mine. A thumb stroked lightly over the back of one.

"Thank you." His voice was faint, tight.

"My hero. You saved me." I whispered. It seemed right: my voice softer, breathy.

"My girl." It was so faint, I wondered if he really said that. He must have felt the sudden tension in my hands. "If you want to be."

He had to hear the sharp intake of my breath. I was glad he couldn't see how red my face must have been. I whispered again. "Will you be here tomorrow?"

Somehow, in the blackness, I knew he nodded. "I'll be enlarging."

We both held back giggles. I hope I suppressed the snort of repressed laughter from my nose.

"Enlarging Photos." He went on. "So the red light will be on; it won't be totally dark in here."

I pulled my hands out from under his, fingers savoring his soft skin and the harder muscles under it as they left. I stepped away. "You may have a visitor."

I ran out, heart racing, excited, scared, elated.

The next day my book bag was stuffed full. It seemed forever before the last other student left the lab area. I risked the boy's bathroom, cramped in a stall as I pulled on the wig, the skirt and tights, the top and shoes I'd worn that first day, when Matthew had been the one who truly saw me. I thought about changing in the space between the two doors protecting the darkroom, but I wanted to make sure my wig was on straight in a mirror.

I didn't seem to be able to catch my breath as I peeked out the door, found the hall empty and returned to the lab. Deep breaths didn't help calm me. My hand shook, my heart pounded as I slipped into the darkroom. Easing through the second portal, I entered the dim red glow. In a whore's scarlet light, I suddenly felt shame, dressed as one.

Then Matthew turned. His look vanquishing the shame. His smile was one of delight, and relief. "You came. I was scared you wouldn't."

I clasped my hands at my waist, shy and speechless.

"You're so beautiful." He took the few steps between us, forcing my face up to see his. "Can I kiss you?"

A silent surprised gasp parted my lips. His found mine even as I tried to nod my assent. His kiss was as different from Roxie's as his body had been. He was gentle and slow, but it still lacked her softness. His seeking tongue was a gentleman, but I felt power behind his gentleness.

With Roxie, her eager forwardness had masked the tender softness behind it. With Matthew, it was the opposite. Tenderness, caution, barely held his strong masculine hunger in check. When my tongue responded to his he groaned into my mouth, his hands found my hips and pulled me against him.

I was lost. My fingers found themselves tangled in the thick, soft hair at the back of his neck. My lips sucked on his with small eager sounds before his tongue probed deeper.

I arched against him when one hand slid up my belly, found and teased a sensitive nipple through my thin shirt. I realized my own hardness pressed next to his and tried to pull back. His hand on my waist slipped deeper around me, his arm pinning me against him.

"Yes!" He forced the word out of a narrow, temporary gap between our lips when my trapped hips lurched against him after his thumb roughly dragged over the nipple. A line of electric fire surged between my chest and where we pushed together.

My hands grew frantic at his nape, my tongue on his. The red glow, lurid before, had become passionate, romantic candlelight. His hand behind me slid down, cupping and squeezing my small bottom, pulling me against him in rhythm with my grinding hips. I sucked in a deep breath when his tongue and mouth left mine.