Santa Saturday

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, events and characters are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Down the Basement II: Santa Saturday Copyright©2010 Ryan Field ISBN 978-1-60054-578-8 His and His Kisses Edition Cover art and design by Dawné Dominique All rights reserved. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

Published by loveyoudivine Alterotica 2010 Find us on the World Wide Web at www.loveyoudivine.com

Down the Basement II: Santa Saturday By Ryan Field

Just when a guy thinks he can hang up his sexy high heels and his short, tight skirts forever, his kinky boyfriend talks him into getting dressed up as a pretty girl one more time.

Down the Basement II: Santa Saturday fter the Halloween costume party, I started seeing Kadin on a regular basis. And this left me speechless more than once. I couldn’t understand why a popular guy like Kadin would want to be with me. Kadin was the star quarterback on the college football team, all the girls in school were after him, and all his fraternity brothers loved him. When he walked me back to my dorm the first night, we’d fooled around in the basement of his fraternity house. He kissed me good night in the dark hallway. Though he was the only guy at

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the party who had figured out I wasn’t a woman, he didn’t seem to care. I just stood there gaping, with one hand pressed to my throat and the other dangling at my side. When he left a few minutes later, I watched him lope down the sidewalk with his hands buried in his pockets and his shoulders hunched forward. He hadn’t worn a jacket and the weather had turned cooler that night. As he rounded a corner at the end of the walkway and disappeared from sight, I stood there staring into the darkness for another fifteen minutes, wondering if this had all been a dream. But it wasn’t a dream. I’d given him my cell number, and he called me the next day and asked if we could get together that night. I agreed with reservations. Kadin had only seen me in drag, not as a man. I’d gone to the costume party at the frat house in drag for fun, never expecting to hook up with anyone. And I had no intention of doing drag again for a long, long time. When he picked me up that night, I worried Kadin would expect me to flit out of the dorm in high heels and a pink dress.

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I wore an off-white sweater and faded jeans instead. When his huge black SUV pulled up to the curb, I was standing there waiting for him with my hands in my pockets. It occurred to me that he might not even recognize me as a man. But he reached over the front seat and popped the door open. When I sat down and buckled my seat belt, he smiled and said, “You look nice tonight. Nice sweater.” Well. Between Halloween and Thanksgiving, we started seeing each other at least three or four nights a week. He never asked me to dress up in drag for him, and he seemed perfectly content with me as a man. We drove to dark parking lots and jumped into the back of his SUV. Kadin explained he was bi-sexual and wanted to take it slowly at first. He even went into great detail about his frustrations and his anxieties about dating another guy in public. He looked me in the eye; he was honest. He said he wasn’t ready to be open about it. And I decided not to push him into anything too soon. I enjoyed being with him. Spending time alone this way, even though it was on the down low,

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allowed us to be together without any other interruptions. As the weeks passed, I would sit in class daydreaming about our nights together. Kadin’s SUV had tinted windows all the way around. No one could see inside, not even if they walked up, cupped their hands, and pressed their noses to the window. We’d spend hours back there doing everything from kissing to intercourse. Most times, it was hard to keep the SUV from rocking. We explored each other’s body and forgot about our inhibitions. He learned quickly that I preferred being the submissive bottom; I learned just as fast that he enjoyed taking control as the dominant top. One night, we even fell asleep naked in the back of his SUV in the parking lot of a fast food restaurant. When we woke early the next morning, I was flat on my back and Kadin was on top of me with his arms around my shoulders. I spread my legs, wrapped them around his waist, and whispered into his hear. I told him we’d better get up and get dressed before anyone caught us. He told me no one could see inside, and then he lifted my legs higher and put on another condom.

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Then a week before Thanksgiving, Kadin picked me up, and we went to a parking lot behind a local bowling alley. We parked between two school buses and climbed into the back. After I blew him, he pulled me up to his chest and put his arms around me. I thought this was odd. Whenever I blew Kadin, he liked to lie back while I massaged his balls. He practically went into a deep meditative state, moaning softly and rubbing the top of my head. But this time, he seemed animated and filled with energy, as if he couldn’t contain himself. “I have a favor to ask you,” he said. I rubbed his wide chest. His enormous pecs were covered with a soft layer of dark hair that made my mouth water. “What kind of favor?” There wasn’t much I wouldn’t do for Kadin. “I have to do an act next week at Santa Saturday,” he said. “I was wondering if you’d do something with me.” He spoke with a cautious, almost hapless, tone. “An act?” He nodded. “Something for the variety show. Some sort of song and dance.”

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“Ah, well,” I said. Santa Saturday was a charity event that Kadin’s fraternity put on each year the Saturday after Thanksgiving. It was tradition; it kicked off the Christmas season; Kadin’s fraternity had been doing this for over fifty years. The event drew people from the entire campus and surrounding colleges. There were bake sales, fifty-fifty drawings, Chinese auctions, and games. And all the money they brought in went to a local children’s hospital. Aside from the DJ they always hired, each year Kadin’s fraternity put on an outrageous, campy variety show that was always the highlight of the event. “I’m going to be Santa Claus,” Kadin said. “And I was wondering if you’d be Mrs. Santa Claus. You could get dressed up in a sexy Mrs. Santa outfit like the costume you wore to the Halloween party. Something with a short red dress and spiky red high heels.” Then he ran his hand down my right side and slipped his fingers into my ass crack. I took a quick breath and swallowed back. He knew this was my weakest spot. My body turned to mush whenever he touched me there with his

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large fingers. “Are you serious, Kadin?” This was the first time he’d mentioned drag to me since the night we’d met. For the longest time I wondered why he hadn’t mentioned it. “Dead serious,” he said. “It could be fun. And it’s a way for us to be together in public. I’d like that. I can tell everyone you’re my date.” His fingers were sliding toward my opening. My legs were parting, and I was squeezing his bicep. “I’m not sure about his, Kadin. I only did drag that one time, and I wasn’t all that comfortable then. I’m not sure I can pass as a woman with all those people around.” “But you were great. All the guys thought you were a woman. They had no idea.” Then his voice dropped, and he bit my neck. “And I thought it was hot. I’d love to see you do it just one more time.” He pressed his palms together and quirked his dark eyebrows. “Please.” “There’s a lot of preparation involved,” I said remembering Halloween. I had passed as a woman that night. And so well, I wound up taking on a group of guys wearing football uniforms in the basement, which is how Kadin and I actually

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met. “And you didn’t give me much time.” The last time it had taken me two months to prepare. I didn’t know if I could do this in just one week. He started to beg. “Please do it just this once. I never ask for much. And it is for charity. I’ll never ask again.” He was right about not asking for much. He was the most attentive, articulate lover I’d ever met. When he was inside me, he only cared about what I was feeling and if he was pleasing me. We didn’t just have sex: we made love. So I laced my fingers around his thick neck and said, “Okay. I’ll do it just this once, and only because it’s for charity.” He smiled so wide, his nose twitched. He made a fist and punched me playfully in the ass. “You’re the best. I was worried you’d turn me down.” Then he climbed on top of me and buried his face in my neck. I caressed the back of his head and sighed. “I just hope I can pull this off without anyone recognizing me.” “You’ll be great,” he said. “The only thing you’ll have to worry about is keeping the other

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guys away from you. The last time, they couldn’t wait to lift up your dress.” How could I forget? My jaw ached for two days straight. **** The next morning, I started working on my outfit. Kadin said he’d be wearing a traditional Santa suit, so I figured I’d play it safe and wear a traditional Mrs. Santa suit. I scoured the internet searching for costume shops and web sites that catered to transvestites and entertainers. I found a few kinky, sexy Mrs. Santa outfits online, but no one could guarantee that I’d received these outfits within a week’s time. When I realized I’d have to go out and physically shop, I did searches for shops within a fifty-mile radius of my school. There were more than I’d imagined there would be. And I finally stumbled across a shop called, Le Exotique. This shop was about forty miles away. It catered to anyone and everyone with a kink, fetish, or passion to dress up in fantasy clothes. I called

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first and asked about a sexy Mrs. Santa suit. The sales clerk told me they had three different styles in stock and that it would be best if I came in person and tried them all on. So the next morning, a breezy autumn Saturday with a bright blue sky, I hoped into my car and drove forty miles north. It’s a good thing the upcoming week was a slow time for me. I’d taken my mid-terms already, and I knew I wouldn’t miss anything if I cut a few classes. Most people took off early that week. It was almost expected. I not only had to pull a costume together, I also had to rehearse the act with Kadin. He said we were doing something kitschy and Christmassy. He promised me it was supposed to be campier than realistic. But as much as I cared about Kadin, I wasn’t taking his word. If I was going on a stage to perform, I was going to be well rehearsed and ready for anything. Le Exotique was located on a back street in a touristy little town I’d never visited, the kind of place people from the city go to for daytrips to kill time when there’s nothing better to do. I had to park on the street and fill a parking meter then

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walk two blocks north and one block east. The shop itself was nothing more than a converted row home, sandwiched between a small modern art gallery and a candle shop displaying all those new flameless candles everyone was raving about. The clapboards of Le Exotique were pale pink and the trim was soft lavender. I turned to view the flameless candles and tilted my head, wondering whether or not flameless candle was an oxymoron. The owner of Le Exotique was unlocking the front door as I approached, a guy in his midthirties with dark wavy hair down to his shoulders, a scruffy goatee, and ripped jeans. He was a cross between a rock star and a jock. He carried a sandwich-board sign down four concrete steps and placed it on the edge of the sidewalk. When he looked up at me, he nodded and said, “Good morning. I’m just opening. Feel free to take a look inside, and if you need anything, I’ll be inside in a minute.” The sandwich-board sign read, “SALE,” in bold red letters. The owner had two thick silver earrings in each ear, a silver bolt through his nose, and more

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silver chains around his neck than I could count. I noticed his black leather boots: narrow pointy toes and a three-inch Cuban heel. They weren’t quite western, and they weren’t exactly biker boots. But something about them made my heart skip a beat. I thanked him and went inside. When I looked up, I pressed my palm to my chest and sighed. For such a small space, the shop was filled with merchandise that catered to every fetish, kink, and fantasy ever invented. There were whips and chains above my head, hanging from rafters in haphazard positions. To my right were racks of dresses that ran down the entire right side of the shop. To the left were glass cases filled with sex toys that included everything from black rubber plugs to dildos the size of large eggplants. I gaped at the cock-ring display. I blinked when I noticed an entire case filled with fake breasts in every size, shape, and color. And I nearly lost my balance when I saw a mannequin wearing a crotchless nun’s habit with a slit up the side. The moment the owner walked inside, I crossed to him and said, “I need help.” Then I told

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him what I was looking for, that I didn’t have much time to spare, and that I’d appreciate his help. I spoke fast, with an even tone. When I finished, he just stood there gaping at me. “I’ll be more than happy to help you out,” he said, rubbing his goatee, looking me up and down. “What are you, about five feet seven?” I nodded yes and said, “Exactly.” “It should be simple to get you fitted into the perfect Mrs. Santa outfit,” he said. Then he looked me up and down again and smiled. “I’m just surprised is all. You look like a typical college kid to me. You remind me of that actor. Can’t think of his name.” “Zac Ephron.” I got this all the time. I didn’t think I looked like him but other people did. “Yes,” the guy said. “But you have lighter hair. It’s more of a sandy blond.” I smiled. “And mine is natural.” After that, the guy led me to the back of the store where there were dressing rooms and the windows were covered with heavy black draperies. He searched through a few racks and pulled out three different costumes. “These are

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the three Mrs. Santa costumes I have. If you don’t like them, we can always pull something together off the racks. Do you have shoes, or will you be needing them, too?” I gazed down at the costumes hanging from his hand. They were all red with white fur trim, all very short, and one of them looked so narrow it resembled a scarf instead of a dress. “I’ll need shoes, too.” I wanted something in red. I could have used the shoes I’d worn for Halloween, but I figured since I was already buying an entire outfit, I may as well spring for the shoes and do it right. “What size shoe are you in a man’s shoe?” I took the costumes from his hand and headed to the dressing room. Without thinking twice, I said, “I’m either a size ten or eleven in women’s heels, depending on how they are made.” I’d been through this before; I knew what I was doing. He smiled. “How high of a heel do you want?” I pushed the pink curtain aside and said, “The highest heel you have in red, in my size.” Then I closed the curtain and unzipped my jeans.

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The first Mrs. Santa costume I tried on was the short red Lycra affair that resembled a scarf. Good thing I’d worn a tight thong to pack down my dick. When I slipped the costume over my head and pulled it down below my waist, it barely covered my crotch. I stepped out of the dressing room to view the costume in the full-length, three-way mirror. The guy was leaning against a rack, and there a couple of pairs of red high heels resting on top of the rack on a glass shelf. He took one look at me in the tight red dress and his jaw dropped. He rushed to the mirrors and said, “Wow.” My tone remained serious. I gazed into the mirror to see how the dress fell over my hips. “Is that a good wow or a bad wow? Be honest. I don’t want to make a fool of myself. I’m going on stage in this costume.” He handed me a pair of red pumps with a six-inch heel, dripping in ruby sequins. “Wow in a good way. It’s perfect.” Then he went down on one knee and reached for my right ankle so he could slip the high heel on my foot. I would have put on my own shoes, but he seemed so eager I didn’t want to disappoint him.

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I knew he was looking up my dress; I saw his eyes tilting. So I reached down to hold his shoulder for support and lifted my right leg. He held my calf gently and put the shoe on very slowly, caressing my instep with his large, thick fingers. When he repeated this move with my left foot, I lost my balance and almost feel over. But he grabbed the back of my right leg just in time. And as I found my footing and looked into the mirror, his hand went all the way up the back of my leg and rested firmly on the bottom of my ass. I smiled and rolled my eyes. He squeezed my flesh and pursed his lips. I’d had a feeling he was horny, only I hadn’t expected him to make such a bold move right there in the store. After all, anyone could have walked in and caught him with his hand up the back of the dress. I smiled and said, “Excuse me, but I think you have your hand up my dress.” Then I laughed and shook my head. He gaped at my legs and slid his hand all the way up the back of the dress until it rested in the middle of my ass. Then he smiled and said, “You have smooth skin. You’re not wearing underwear.”

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I reached down and caressed the top of his soft hair. He wasn’t a bad-looking guy at all. And, to be honest, I liked the way he was touching me. His palm was rough; he squeezed hard. Part of me wanted him to lift the dress up and bend me over the display case, but another part of me kept thinking about Kadin and how he’d react to this guy putting his hand up the dress. So I stepped about three feet away from him and smiled. I pulled down the tight dress and said, “I’m wearing a thong. And I usually shave my entire body three times a week. I jog every morning, and it makes me feel cleaner when I perspire.” I lied about feeling cleaner. Though I did run every morning, I shaved my body because I knew how much Kadin liked it when I was smooth all over. Then I tried on a lacy red dress with white fur around the scoop neckline and a slit that ran all the way up the side of my right leg. This one was see-through, and my dark thong was exposed. When I stepped out of the dressing room this time, I found the owner of the shop gaping at me with a huge grin. Oh, I knew this was wrong. But I couldn’t help teasing him just a little. I knew I

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wasn’t going to buy this dress, but I couldn’t help having a little fun. So I slowly walked over to the three-way mirror and stood there with my back arched and my legs slightly spread. I pointed my right foot and put my hands on my hips. I even bent down, pretending to adjust the hem of the flimsy material. When I did this, I knew the back of the dress rode up and exposed half my naked ass. The owner walked to where I was standing. He reached for my hips, pulled me back into his body, and said, “You seem to get around very well in those heels. I have this feeling you’re not an amateur.” He squeezed my hips tighter; his heavy belt buckle pressed into the small of my back. I looked into the mirror and gazed at his soft brown eyes. He had the scruffy, endearing face of a mongrel puppy. I smiled and said, “I’m not an expert. But I’m not an amateur either.” That’s when he groaned and bit my neck. Then he reached down and lifted the red dress up to my waist. “You have a nice, smooth body,” he said in a stage whisper. It was hard to speak. I knew I had to push him away; this was wrong. But when I looked into

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the mirror and saw myself standing there in the red high heels, with the dress up to my waist, and my bottom half exposed, I couldn’t move my legs. “I have to try on the last costume,” I said, pausing between words to breathe, willing him to undress me completely. “Let me help you get out of this one,” he said. Then he lifted the dress up higher and pulled it over my head. He pulled me closer. I was naked except for the red high heels and the black thong. He ran his hands up and down my torso and cupped my chest muscles. “Someone could come in and see this,” I said. “I have to put on the other costume.” “The people who come into this shop want to see something like this. There are guys who would pay to see this.” I leaned back and rubbed my cheek against his wiry beard. “I have to stop. I have a boyfriend. And he’s very possessive.” He bit my earlobe and held me tighter. “He doesn’t have to know about this.” “You’re bad.”

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“You like it that way. I can tell.” “You have strong hands.” “You have a nice chest,” he said, rubbing his goatee on my shoulder. “The rest of your body is firm, but you’re chest muscles really pop.” “It’s genetic,” I said, barely able to speak. “I work out all the time, but my chest muscles always seem to get bigger than my arms or legs.” “I like it.” Then he reached down and started to unzip his pants. Before his zipper was down, I found the strength to break free. Then I went back into the dressing room. I was so out of breath and so hot, I couldn’t breathe without gasping for air. I pulled the curtain shut and took a few long, deep breaths. This was a test; I had a boyfriend who trusted me. And if I failed this test, I knew I’d regret it. No matter how much I wanted this guy, I knew I couldn’t submit. The next costume was more traditional. It was still sexy and outrageous, but at least I felt as though I was wearing something substantial. It wasn’t an actual dress. The top was a sexy red corset trimmed with white fur. The bottom was a

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short, puffy skirt trimmed with more white fur. The corset hugged my body and pushed up my chest muscles. I wasn’t planning on wearing fake breasts anyway, but this actually created the illusion that I had a natural line of cleavage. And the short skirt flared out so wide at the bottom, it bounced whenever I moved. When I walked out of the dressing room this time, the guy was leaning into the mirror. His arms were folded across his chest, his feet were crossed at the ankles, and his zipper was all the way down. I smiled and shook my head. I pointed at his dick. “Looks like the barn door is open and the pony is ready to jump out.” He licked his lips and said, “Why don’t you come over and take care of it for me.” “You’re going to get me in trouble,” I said, teasing him. “You like trouble,” he said, staring at my legs. “You know you do.” I walked over to the mirror and faced my image. This costume was perfect. I turned sideways and looked at my profile. The skirt was so puffy and flouncy, I wouldn’t have to worry

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about my penis showing. Even with a thong, my penis had a tendency to bulge out in the tighter costumes. I turned to face the guy. “What do you think?” I was only inches away from him. He walked in front of the mirror and looked me up and down. Then he placed his hands on my waist and said, “I think they all look good.” I took three steps back. When I felt his warm breath on my neck, my heart started racing again. “I want to sit down.” I’d be wearing this costume all night, not just for the act I was doing with Kadin. And I didn’t want anything that would ride up and expose what I was hiding beneath the skirt. So I sat down in a chair that faced the dressing rooms. I kept my knees pinned together and smoothed out the red skirt. I looked up at the guy and asked, “How is this? Can you see up the skirt?” He smiled. His zipper was still down, and I could see his erection poking through his white boxer briefs. “I can’t see anything with your legs pressed together that way. Why don’t you spread them apart a little and see what happens.”

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I wanted to spread my legs and let them dangle over the arms of the chair. My entire body was aching for him. But Kadin’s sweet face flashed before my eyes, and I stood up from the chair fast. “I think I’ll take this one,” I said as I walked back toward the dressing room. The poor guy’s face dropped, and he forced a smile. He wasn’t an obnoxious type, just very horny, and in a cute way. When he realized I wasn’t going to respond to his advances, he became crestfallen. So I did something very nice that morning. I went back into the dressing room and purposely left the curtain wide open. When he saw this, he sat down in the chair to watch me change. I pretended I didn’t see him drop his jeans and grab his erection. When I slowly removed the skirt and the corset, I pretended I couldn’t see him gaping at me and tugging himself at the same time. I even removed the thong and lingered for a while in the high heels. I reconciled what I was doing ahead of time. I wasn’t cheating on Kadin, and I wasn’t actually having sex. Though what I was doing was questionable at best, there was no physical or emotional contact whatsoever.

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When I finally leaned into the dressing room wall with my ass facing the guy, I arched my back and spread my legs. I heard him grunt and take a few deep breaths. And when I heard him pull up his zipper, I knew I could finish getting dressed. As it turned out, Le Exotique turned out to be one-stop shopping. I found the prefect dress, the perfect high heels, and the perfect long, blond wig, which was all I needed. I still had the makeup, the jewelry, and accessories, and the long, fake fingernails from Halloween. I even found this special body glitter at the counter. I knew that if I went to an indoor tanning salon a few times before Santa Saturday, I could spread the glittery cream all over my body, and I wouldn’t need any stockings or panty hose. I considered a pair of fishnet stocking, but decided against them because I hated the way they felt on my legs. Besides, when I totaled the sale in my head and I realized I was spending almost as much money on a Mrs. Santa costume as I usually spent for four months of cell phone bills, I stopped cold. The wig alone was almost one hundred dollars, and I was just a college student

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who would have to make this money up by working extra hours in the restaurant where I worked part time. It wasn’t as if I’d wear this costume more than once. As it turned out, the guy who owned the shop insisted on giving me a fifty per cent discount on the costume, and he threw in the high heels for free, so I wasn’t out as much money as I thought I’d be. I told him he didn’t have to do this; I would have done what I did for free, because I really liked him. But he insisted. He was such a sweetheart about this, I put my arms around him and gave him a kiss on the cheek before I left. He grabbed my ass, thanked me for the show, and told me to come back again any time. He’d said he had a see-through black dress and black high heels that were perfect for me. I thanked him for the discount and left as fast as I could. All this drag business and dressing up in high heels and wigs wasn’t a permanent thing for me. I was only doing this for Kadin, for Santa Saturday, and so that Kadin and I could be seen together as a couple for one night. Even though I had to admit that I liked the attention I received

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from men when I was in drag, I wasn’t going to make a habit of it. **** Then it was Saturday night. Kadin and I had spent every night that week rehearsing a Christmas song and dance routine. I’d gone to a tanning salon every afternoon and my legs were smooth and bronze. On Thanksgiving Day, we each drove home to our respective families, ate dinner, and then met later that night to rehearse. Though it wasn’t a complicated number, I couldn’t ask a friend from the theater department to help us out. No one was supposed to know it was really me dressing up as a woman. So I managed to put something simple together, and we rehearsed until our voices ached and our feet throbbed. I waited outside my dorm for Kadin to pick me up, wishing I had one of those cute little fake-fur stoles to wrap around my shoulders. White to match the fur trim on my skirt would have been perfect. I’d spent the better part of that

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day…since noon…getting ready. But I hadn’t noticed it was getting colder outside until I went downstairs to wait for Kadin. So I had to run back up to my room and grab a faded denim jacket to put around my shoulders. For some reason, Kadin was late. He said he’d pick me up at seven o’clock so we could arrive an hour early and go over our routine one more time. Thanks to the fact this was Thanksgiving weekend, the dorms were empty. And anyone who was on campus was already over at the frat house participating in Santa Saturday. The events had begun earlier that afternoon. This was one of those all-day affairs, where people played games and participated in various events from noon until after midnight. As I waited there in the dark, I practiced walking around in the high heels so I’d look natural when I was surrounded by hundreds of people. When I started walking to the left of the front door, near a concrete bench, I misjudged a crack in the sidewalk and almost tripped. My body lurched forward and my heart-shaped beaded bag flew out of my hands. I’d seen this beaded bag at a flea market the previous summer. It was

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silver lame and studded with crystal rhinestones. I needed the bag to carry my extra makeup and house keys. The Mrs. Santa costume didn’t have any pockets, and I knew I’d need to reapply my white frosted lipstick several times that night. As it was, I purposely kept my lips parted so it wouldn’t wear off too soon. The minute the beaded bag jumped out of my hand, the heavy glass doors of my dorm building clanked open and three young guys loped outside. My back was facing them; I was about to squat down and pick up my bag. They had deep, throaty voices, two laughed while the other told them a story about the Thanksgiving Day football game that day. The closer they came, the faster my heart raced. I adjusted the short, puffy red skirt; I squared my shoulders as if bracing for battle and decided to wait for them to pass before I bent down to retrieve the bag. But when they approached me, they stopped. The one who had been talking reached down, picked up my beaded bag and said, “Here you go.” Then he stood there waiting for me to respond, while the other two stood behind him and gaped.

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I looked up and smiled. When I saw they were wearing their football gear, I assumed they were members of the football team on their way to Santa Saturday. The football team always went dressed in uniform; it was tradition. I reached for the bag and said, “Thank you.” “Anything to help out a beautiful lady in distress,” the football player said, gaping at the hem of my skirt. I read his mind. I’d learned the first time I’d done drag that if you want to get a man’s attention, all you needed was a short skirt and long blond hair. He looked me up and down with a penetrating stare. The other two were staring at my tan, glittering legs, and smiling. And I wondered why the bottom of my chest always dropped out whenever I was close to a guy in a football uniform. I looked down at my red high heels and said, “Thank you. I appreciate it.” Ah well, where was Kadin? He was now fifteen minutes late. This entire awkward scene could have been avoided if he’d been on time. I would have clenched my fists, only I didn’t want my long nails to snap off.

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“Are you in the show?” The football player asked. “No, I always walk around campus dressed as Mrs. Santa Claus.” This snippy remark just came out unexpectedly, because I was annoyed at Kadin. He laughed and lifted his arms in surrender. The other two stepped back, poked each other, and made ah sounds. “Don’t get all upset, pretty lady,” he said with a smoother voice. He moved closer to me and brushed his thick fingers across my arm. “I was just wondering if you needed a ride to the frat house. We’re on our way there right now. My pickup truck is right over there.” He pointed to the parking lot. “I’m sure we can squeeze you in between us.” One of the guys elbowed his friend and said, “She can sit on my lap.” His buddy punched him and said. “I want her on my lap.” I smelled beer on their breath. Their faces were red, and they couldn’t stop smiling. “I’m waiting for my ride. My boyfriend is picking me

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up.” Now that I was certain they had no idea I was really a man, my heart rate slowed down and my knees stopped wobbling as much. “Your boyfriend should be on time,” one guy said, gazing at my legs with pursed lips. “If you were my girlfriend, I wouldn’t leave you standing around alone in the dark.” I exhaled and said, “Guys, I’m fine, really. He’ll be here any minute. Thanks, seriously. I’m good.” Before the guy had a chance to respond, Kadin’s black SUV pulled to the curb with a screech. Instead of leaning over to pop the door open like he usually did, this time he got out, rounded the car, and opened the door for me. I thanked the football players and turned in Kadin’s direction. I felt their gazes on my legs the entire length of the sidewalk. I even heard one murmur, “Damn, she’s hot, dude. Where the hell has she been hiding?” I kept on walking, quietly enjoying the attention. Kadin stood at the car with his head tilted and his eyelids half open. He was wearing a classic Santa suit, with heavy black boots and

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a pillow stuffed inside the jacket to fill out his flat stomach. When I reached the SUV, he looked me up and down and asked, “What are those guys doing there?” Then he sent all three of them a scathing glance and placed his hand on the small of my back, pushing me into the SUV. I smiled and climbed into the passenger seat. “They were just waiting with me until you arrived. They were worried about me standing there all alone in the dark.” I wanted him to feel slightly guilty about making me wait but didn’t want to show anger. His cheeks flushed and his lips parted. He lowered his voice and said, “Well, I guess that was nice of them.” Then he shut the door with a loud thump and jogged back to the driver’s side. When we pulled away, I lowered the visor and checked my makeup. I adjusted the long blond wig and asked, “Is my hair too puffy? Do I look like a hooker?” I’d teased the wig up for effect; I was supposed to be in a fantasy costume. If I’d been going out in broad daylight as a woman, I would have let it fall loose and natural, and I

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never would have worn white frosted lipstick and white glittery eye shadow. Kadin reached down with his right arm and placed his palm on my thigh. “You look fucking hot, seriously. When I pulled up and saw you standing there, I got wood.” As Kadin’s big hand slid up my skirt, I reached down and slapped it. Then I grabbed his hand, put it back on his own lap, and pressed my knees together. “You just keep both hands on the steering wheel and pay attention to the road, pal. I don’t want to get into a wreck dressed this way. I can just imagine what they’d say in the emergency room.” Kadin bit his bottom lip. “I can’t help it. You really do look hot. I’m ready to pull over and fuck you right now.” I yawned and trilled my long nails. “Just drive, big boy. We have a show to put on, and people are depending on us.” Though I pretended to be indifferent to his advances, my heart was pounding in my ears and my body was filled with sensations I hadn’t felt since the last time I’d dressed up in drag. If he had pulled over, I

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probably would have let him lift up the skirt and bang me into the hood of the car. When we arrived, Kadin jumped out and opened the door for me again. On the way into the frat house, he put his hand up my dress and squeezed my ass. He seemed shocked to learn I wasn’t wearing any underwear and just a thong. And when I tried to explain that the thong kept my genitals well hidden, he suggested that I could have worn a pair of briefs over the thong. I just shrugged and kept walking; I couldn’t tell him I liked wearing practically nothing under the skirt. I wasn’t sure he’d understand the sense of freedom and empowerment it gave me. By the time we arrived, the frat house was jammed with people. The cake sales were over, the games had all been played, and everyone was ready to watch the show and party the rest of the night away. A tall guy wearing an elf costume told Kadin they’d raised over ten thousand dollars that day for the children’s hospital, and then he smiled at me and nodded with a furtive stare. Kadin patted his arm and continued through the crowd with me in tow. But when I slipped past the

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guy in the elf suit, his palm gently brushed the bottom of my ass. I looked up at him and smiled. He towered over me with his broad shoulders and his large brown eyes. He looked down and returned the smile, and then he put his hand up my skirt when no one was looking. When he discovered I wasn’t wearing underwear beneath the red skirt, his jaw dropped. His eyes were glazed and his breath smelled like an empty can of beer. I reached up and grabbed his shoulder. I stood on my tiptoes and whispered into his ear. “You’d better be a good boy, or Santa won’t bring you anything this year.” Then I kissed him on the cheek and worked my way through the crowd so I could catch up with Kadin. This frat house was one of those large, old white elephants of days gone by. The floorboards creaked, the walls sagged, and the wallpaper had yellowed years earlier. Each year, the guys in the fraternity white washed the exterior clapboards in June; they maintained the lawn and made sure the outside always looked good. On the inside, the rooms were filled with old second-hand sofas,

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side tables picked up at flea markets and tag sales, and window shades with frayed edges. The subtle nutty aroma of young men who wore their shirts and jeans more than once after washing permeated the carpets. The salty smell of sweat socks, jock straps, and athletic shoes penetrated the walls. It was as adorable as it was unkempt. But the rooms were massive, especially the double parlor that ran the length of the house where the frat boys put on their annual Christmas show. Kadin and I were the final act of the night. By the time all of the football players finished slurring their rowdy version of Silent Night, Kadin and I danced onto the stage as Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus. The song we sang was simple; the dance wasn’t more than a few routine steps. The women in the audience applauded and laughed. The guys hooted and howled with each step I took. But when I placed my palms on Kadin’s strong shoulders, jumped into his arms, and wrapped my legs around his waist, the entire room went berserk. They threw their arms in the air. Some pounded the tables, others stomped on

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the floorboards. A young woman with a highpitch shouted, “Kiss her,” and then everyone else began to repeat this in unison. Kadin looked into my eyes and smiled. He held me effortlessly; I could feel his warm palms on my bare ass while I hung from his shoulders. And while the audience begged us to kiss, I closed my eyes and pressed my lips to Kadin’s. Our tongues met, and the room began to spin. Though the crowd continued to roar, the only sound I heard was my own heartbeat. After the show, Kadin met me outside the bathroom and said, “That was nice kissing you in front of everyone that way.” He put his arm around my waist and pulled me into his side. “I like being out in public with you dressed this way.” I’d just reapplied my frosted white lipstick because it had all worn off during the kiss. I patted the pillow that was stuffed inside Kadin’s costume and said, “It’s after midnight. The party is breaking up. We should leave now and finish what we started on stage.” I changed the subject on purpose, because I didn’t want to ruin the evening. Even though I liked being out with him

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in public, I wished he’d said he wanted to be with me in public when I was a man, too. “I’ll race you to the car,” he said, pulling me closer to his side. But on the way to the front door, a group of guys stopped us. I recognized three of them as the guys I’d met outside my dorm while I’d been waiting for Kadin. They all wore football uniforms, all had red, glassy eyes and all slurred when they spoke. Though no alcohol was ever sold at this event, this didn’t stop most of the people from bringing their own and drinking until they couldn’t stand straight. And the guys on the football team were the worst offenders. A tall guy with dark brown hair reached for Kadin’s arm and murmured something into his ear. I stood off to the side, not far from the other guys. They weren’t speaking, but I knew they were staring at my legs. When the dark-haired football player released Kadin’s arm, Kadin whispered into my ear. “The guys want to know if we’d like to go down the basement and get stoned with them.” He placed his palm on the small of my back and rubbed it. “It’s up to you.”

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“Do you want to go?” The guys left us alone and headed down the basement. He shrugged. “The party is breaking up and we don’t have anything else to do. It could be fun.” “What happens if we go down there and the guys want to do more than just get stoned?” I knew where all this was leading, but I wanted to know how Kadin felt about it. The last time I did this at Halloween, it turned into a sex party, and I wound up fooling around with all the guys in the room. “It could be kind of hot,” Kadin said. He was looking down that floor instead of into my eyes. And that’s when I knew Kadin wanted to go down with the other guys. He curtailed his excitement with too much force; he worked too hard to remain expressionless. “If we do go down, I just want to make sure this won’t affect our relationship. You’re the only one I care about. Anything that happens down there will just be for fun.” Kadin smiled. He looked into my eyes this time. “I agree. Whatever happens down there has nothing to do with us and the way we feel about each other.”

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“And if anything gets too rough, you’ll get me out of there?” I asked. I didn’t want to think about what could happen if they found out I wasn’t a woman. In situations like this, there was always that risk to consider. He put his arm around me. “I’d never let anything bad happen to you.” Then he gave me a gentle push and led me to the basement door. **** Kadin pounded down the basement steps in his heavy Santa boots. Though he’d removed the hat and the pillow he’d stuffed into the jacket, he was still wearing the rest of the Santa costume. I followed, working my way down the ancient, rickety basement steps with care. Six-inch red high heels tend to catch in cracks and crevices, and the last thing I wanted to do was fall down and break a glittered leg dressed up like Mrs. Santa. At the bottom of the steps, I stopped because it was dark and my eyes needed to adjust. Kadin reached for my waist and lifted me up so I wouldn’t

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trip over a pile of boxes. When he lowered me to the concrete floor, I turned to see what the football players were doing. There was music playing in the background and a large flat screen TV on the wall was displaying a football game. It was late; they must have recorded the game earlier. Three goodlooking guys in football uniforms were sitting on a ragged, threadbare, old sofa in front of the TV. Two with short brown hair sat back with their long legs propped up on a Danish modern square coffee table, and one guy with blond hair sat on the edge of the cushion rolling a joint. Opposite the sofa, in a dim corner of the musty basement, two more football players were just beginning a game of pool. One stood back and held a pool cue while the other leaned over the table and prepared to shoot. The one leaning over had a large diamond in his ear and was so dark-skinned, his fingernails almost looked pink, and the one watching him had hair the color of a persimmon and a scruffy beard to match. Kadin led me by the hand to a leather reclining chair to the right of the sofa that had cracks in the seat and tears on the arms. When

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the guys on the sofa watched us walk into the room, they shouted Kadin’s name and nodded at me. At a closer glance, I noticed these guys were bleary-eyed and limp, as if they’d already reached their alcohol limit and were ready to pass out. I didn’t recognize any of them from the Halloween party, which made sense. The guys at the Halloween party may or may not have been real football players. They could have been guys wearing football gear as Halloween costumes. But the guys in the basement that night were real footballs jocks, wearing the football gear they used regularly. When Kadin sat down on the recliner, he took my hand and pulled me down on his lap. The guys on the sofa took a quick glance in our direction, and then they looked at each other and smiled. The one with blond hair offered us both a beer and Kadin refused. He told them he’d rather wait until the joints were rolled. Then he put his arms around me and started kissing my neck right in front of them. Before I knew what was happening, I was leaning back in his arms, and we were making out. My legs dangled over the

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side of the chair, and I had to pull the front of the skirt down so it wouldn’t ride up to my waist. Kadin had one hand on my shoulder and the other on my thigh. When his hand started moving up the skirt, I parted my legs a little and kissed him even harder. No one said a word while we made out. As far as the other guys were concerned, Kadin was just another dude making out with his girlfriend. Eventually, I turned sideways so my back was facing them and Kadin lifted the skirt so they could watch him caress my bare ass out in the open. If it hadn’t been for the background music and the TV, the basement would have been dead silent by then. And we remained in this shameless, intoxicating position until I smelled sweet smoke coming from the direction of the sofa. We stopped kissing and looked at them. They were passing the first joint to each other, inhaling deeply and waiting to exhale. Kadin removed his hand from my ass and said, “Pass it over, man.” The guy sitting in the middle of the sofa lifted a crooked joint and said, “Hey, man. Send your

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girlfriend over here to get it.” Then he gaped at my naked ass and winked at Kadin. I gave Kadin a look and pulled down out my skirt. Then I stood up and slowly walked over to the sofa. As I approached, they didn’t make an effort to move their big legs out of the way. So I had to lean over the guy with brown hair on the end to reach for the joint the guy in the middle was still holding. With a deep, slurred voice, the guy on the end with the brown hair said, “Let me help you,” and he reached up, placed his hand on the back of my thighs, and slid it up the back of my skirt. I waited until his hand reached my ass, and then I leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the lips. This one wasn’t shy. He stuck his tongue into my mouth and continued grabbing my ass with harder squeezes. He tasted like beer and smelled like pot and some type of watery aftershave lotion. I caressed the side of his face and ran my fingertips back across his heavy, dark stubble and allowed him to have control for a second or two. But when I felt his hand moving toward the front of my body, I

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grabbed his arm and said, “I’d like a hit, too.” I maintained a soft tone: a stage whisper with a lilt. I knew I couldn’t get too stoned, because I didn’t want them finding out I was really a guy. But I was dying for a few small drags from that joint. The guy in the middle, the blond holding the joint, smiled and said, “First, you have to kiss me, too. And then you have to kiss my buddy here.” He poked the guy on the other end of the sofa in the ribs with his elbow. This guy seemed shy and more reserved. He had a Roman nose and deep brown eyes. He looked down at the coffee table and smiled. Though he had an olive complexion, I had a feeling he was blushing beneath those adorable rosy cheeks. After I kissed them both, the blond in the middle held the joint to my lips and I took a long, hard drag. I held my breath for a moment and exhaled into his face. Then I kissed him one more time, grabbed the joint from his hand, and brought it over to Kadin. I sat down on Kadin’s lap again and held the joint to his lips so he could take a drag.

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From the other side of the room, the big guy with the diamond earring shouted and punched his redheaded buddy. “Hey, what about us? Bring us some of that shit, too. We’re in the middle of a good game.” The blond shouted over his shoulder. “I’ll send Mrs. Santa over with a joint.” He sent me a smile and lit another joint. He took a few puffs and reached in my direction. “Here’s you go, sweetie. My buds over there would like you to bring this to them.” I looked at Kadin for approval. I knew I didn’t need his approval, but it felt like the right thing to do. When all this was over, I still wanted Kadin to be my boyfriend, not these hulking monsters with too much testosterone. After Kadin smiled and nodded yes, I stood up, took the joint from the blond guy, and slowly crossed to the pool table. I knew they were all watching me; I took my time and wiggled my ass on purpose. And when I reached the pool table, I squeezed the bicep of the guy with the earring and said, “Here you go.” Then I ran my long red fingernails up and down his thick, dark muscle and lowered my gaze.

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He moved closer and took the joint. He put his massive hand on my waist and thanked me with a deep, throaty voice. After he took a long drag, his redheaded buddy put down his pool cue and walked up behind me. The redhead wasn’t shy. He pressed into my back, sandwiching me in the middle, pushing me into the earring guy’s wide, firm chest. When the redhead reached for the joint, the earring guy pulled me closer and kissed me so hard I had to hold his bicep for support. He was one of those kissers who forced his tongue in deep and rolled it around in circles. My eyes rolled, and I arched my back. The redheaded guy started kissing my neck and squeezing my chest at the same time. I was glad I had decided not to wear false breasts. Thanks to the tight corset and my well-developed chest muscles, he probably just thought I was a flat-chested woman. So I reached behind, pressed my palm to the bulge between his legs and started rubbing it. I couldn’t squeeze his junk because I’d lose my red fingernails, but I could feel his erection poking through the football pants. It pointed up; the head of his dick was at the waistband.

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The more I rubbed the redhead, the more his dick grew, so I leaned back and kissed him on the mouth. And while we kissed, the big guy with the earring lifted up the back of my skirt and caressed my ass with both hands. We continued this way for a few minutes longer, until the redhead whispered something into my ear. “Bet you have a tight little pussy. Bet you like dick, too.” Then he stuck out his tongue and licked my ear. If only he knew...on both counts. So I stepped away from them and took control. I couldn’t take any chances with these guys. They were drunk enough to think I was a woman, but not drunk enough to forgive me if they found out I was really a man. They didn’t seem to mind either. Basically, they were more interested in getting off than long, drawn-out foreplay. “Why don’t you boys come over to the sofa with the other guys so I can make everyone happy?” I spoke with a low tone and a breathy whisper. I reached down and rubbed their bulges simultaneously. The one with the earring was ready to pop from his football pants. “I don’t want anyone to feel left out. You can finish your pool game later.”

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The redhead glanced at the guy with the earring and bit his bottom lip. The earring guy put his arm around my waist and pushed me back to the sofa where the other guys were pretending to watch TV instead of what had been happening over at the pool table. The pot was kicking in now, and they were officially stoned. They started punching each other and joking around. The shy guy on the end of the sofa with the Roman nose was so wasted, he could hardly keep his eyes open. For some reason, I couldn’t wait to pull his pants down. Though he wasn’t the best-looking or the most aggressive guy in the room, there was something irresistible about his bookish innocence. I left the redhead and the earring guy at the sofa, crossed to the recliner and looked into Kadin’s eyes. When he smiled, I went down on my knees and fumbled with his pants. This was one of those Santa costumes that didn’t have a zipper. I had to pull Kadin’s pants down to his knees while the other guys watched. His dick popped out, and he slouched forward and spread his legs. First, I sucked his balls into my mouth and

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tea-bagged him in front of them all. Then I reached for his shaft, opened my mouth, and took the entire length to the back of my throat. By that time, we all knew this would be one of those dangerous, hazy nights no one would ever completely forget, fully remember in detail, or ever speak of again. When I started to suck Kadin, the other guys grew rowdier and lit up more joints. They started punching each other and grabbing their dicks. The entire basement turned into a sweet, smoky cloud and Kadin’s legs started to move back and forth. When I knew Kadin was close, I stopped. I didn’t want him to come first. So I lifted my head, stood up, and walked back to the sofa to take turns sucking the others. The redheaded guy was sitting on the arm of the sofa and the other four were sitting side by side now on the cushions. I whispered into the redhead’s ear and told him to pull down his pants so I wouldn’t break a fingernail. And when he did, I went down on my knees, wrapped my lips around the head of his cock, and sucked in until

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my cheekbones pulled. He had large balls; I grabbed them with my index finger and thumb and squeezed them gently. He closed his eyes and leaned back, moaning each time I took him to the back of my throat. He smelled like damp washcloths and baby powder, as if he’d showered and put on his pants before he’d completely dried his dick. After that, I took turns on them all, moving from one to the other then back again. My eyes opened wide with each cock that touched my lips; they all tasted, smelled, and felt different. The more pot they smoked, the rowdier they became and the less they cared. Two started singing the school song and smacking my shoulders with their dicks when I licked precome from the guy with the Roman nose. The guy with the earring had a dick so thick my jaw started to ache. The guy with brown hair got so excited, he kicked off his shoes, pulled down his football pants, and yanked off his jock strap. When I sucked him, his other buddy with the Roman nose put his hand up my dress. And the blond guy with the bossy attitude was one of

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those pre-comers that just kept dripping the harder I sucked. At one point, I climbed up on the low coffee table and told them all to remove their shoes and their pants. The redhead laughed and shoved his jock strap into my mouth. When I started chewing it, he pointed at me and shouted to his buddies, “Look at her,” then he pulled up my skirt and slapped my ass hard. After that, all six of them circled me with their dicks sticking out and their hairy legs spread wide. I moved from side to side, taking turns on each one, until Kadin lifted up the back of my skirt and pulled a condom out of his pocket. He slapped my hip hard and asked, “Can I fuck you in the ass?” The other guys went silent, waiting for me to respond to Kadin’s bold request. I’m sure they thought I’d just suck them all off and leave it at that. When I nodded yes and arched my back for Kadin, the redheaded guy slapped me in the face with his dick and said, “I want some ass, too.” Then he poked the guy next to him in the ribs and made a comment about how he’d always wanted to fuck his girlfriend in the ass, and she wouldn’t

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let him do it. The guy with brown hair said he had fucked his girlfriend in the ass, and he’d loved it. I grabbed the redhead by his balls and tugged them hard. “You have to wear a condom.” I looked around the table. “You all have to wear condoms.” Kadin reached into his shirt pocket and dumped at least a dozen pre-lubricated condoms on the table. He smiled and said, “I have plenty, guys. Feel free to use them. The bitch wants us all to fuck her in the ass.” They all started hooting and shaking their fists. The redhead climbed onto the blond’s back and started punching his shoulders. I sent Kadin a look and shook my head. He smiled, pulled the string of my thong to the side, and pressed the head of his dick to my opening. He usually carried a few condoms in his pocket but never this many. He must have been hoping they’d gang bang me. Evidently, he was enjoying this more than I thought he would. When Kadin entered, my head went back and my jaw dropped. I hadn’t expected him to be so blunt and thrust so hard. In the backseat of his SUV, he would have been gentle and articulate.

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But the pain didn’t last long. I arched my back higher and spread my legs as wide as they would go to make it easier for him. He held my hips and slammed into me with loud cracks. And while he fucked, I took turns sucking the other guys off. After Kadin came, the big guy with the diamond earring was waiting in line behind Kadin to take his turn. When he entered and started bucking his hips, I started sucking off the blond guy with all the pre-come. Five minutes after that, another guy entered and I lost track of who they were. They eventually formed a line and just kept taking turns on me. The harder they pounded, the more I wanted. The deeper they went, the louder I moaned. The redhead took the longest to climax. I swear he must have fucked for twenty minutes until he filled the condom. The other guys actually started to cheer him on. They shouted, “go, go, go,” over and over and pounded their fists on the coffee table. But he was a good fuck, almost as good as Kadin. He had this way of holding my hips and bucking just his hips, keeping a constant rhythm that brought my entire body to the brink of an internal climax.

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The only guy who didn’t want to fuck me was the one with the Roman nose. While the other guys took their places in line, he just stood in front of me rubbing the side of my face with his dick. I looked up at him and smiled then I opened my mouth and started sucking. I figured he was one of those guys who love blowjobs, and I took very good care of him. He had a lot of dark, wiry hair on his legs and large balls. He tasted a little salty but smelled like cinnamon. At one point, when one of the guys was fucking me so hard it was difficult to suck, the Roman-nose guy started bucking his hips into my face so I wouldn’t have to do anything but press my tongue to the shaft and close my eyes. After the last football player took his turn tagging me…the cute guy with brown hair who had been the first to remove his football pants…the guy with the Roman nose blasted me in the mouth. The guy with brown hair was still inside bucking gently when the one with the Roman nose went off. And I was so excited by then, I reached between my legs and up the skirt with one hand, rubbed the exterior of the

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thong where my erection was pointed up, and climaxed a minute before the guy with brown hair removed his dick from my body. They had no idea I was rubbing my dick instead of my pussy. The others, including Kadin, were so wasted by then, they didn’t even notice that I’d climaxed. The only guy who did notice was the one with the Roman nose. He kept his dick inside my mouth until I was finished. After I sucked the last drops from his dick, he even helped me climb off the coffee table and smooth out my skirt. He thanked me with a slurred voice and kissed me on the neck. But when he placed his hands on my waist and tried to take me in his arms to kiss me harder, Kadin came up from behind and pointed to a narrow door at the other end of the basement. Kadin’s eyes were glazed and he spoke with a thick tongue. But I knew Kadin was taking charge again and making sure the guy with the Roman nose also knew Kadin was my boyfriend, and I wasn’t available for any more fun that night. Kadin told me there was a small bathroom there, where I could clean up

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and fix my makeup. Then he told the guy with the Roman nose to sit down on the sofa and take a nap. I smiled at Kadin and sidled past the guy with the Roman nose. The guy with the Roman nose tried to put his hand up my skirt one more time, but Kadin grabbed his arm, and I continued walking. When I reached the bathroom…a small, narrow affair with a pee-stained white toilet and a rusty sink…I rinsed my mouth with water, removed the thong, and washed between my legs. I didn’t know what to do with the soiled thong, so I rolled it up and tossed it into a bent plastic trashcan beside the toilet. Then I opened my beaded bag and applied more lipstick. Though I’d taken on more than I thought I could handle that night, I wasn’t in the worst shape. My legs were a little sore and I had a little trouble walking. But after I smoothed out the blond wig and powdered my nose, I was ready to grab Kadin by the arm and leave. When I walked back into the main room, however, Kadin was sound asleep on the sofa. The guy with brown hair and the blond were on

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the sofa with him. None of them had bothered to put their pants back on and they were all sleeping with their mouths half open, their legs stretched out, and their limp dicks every which way. When I looked down at the floor, I smiled. The cute redhead was sleeping on one side of the coffee table and the big guy with the earring was sound asleep on the other side. The guy with the Roman nose had plopped down in the recliner. He was snoring softly, with his head turned to the side, his hairy legs wide open, and his hand on his dick. I put my hands on my hips and crossed to the sofa so I could wake Kadin and go home. I kicked two jocks straps on the way and stepped over a pile of football pants. The room took on a thick, tweedy smell that reminded me of a locker room. When I reached Kadin and squatted down to wake him, he mumbled something incoherent, grabbed my arm, and pulled me down on the sofa before I had a chance to object. I landed between Kadin and a guy with brown hair. The guy with brown hair readjusted his position, snorted, and rested his head against my shoulder.

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I poked Kadin in the arm and said, “We have to leave, sweetie.” I spoke softly and kissed his cheek. Kadin put his arm around me and pulled me into his side. “Just let me sleep for a few minutes. I can’t drive like this.” “I can drive.” “Just close your eyes for a few minutes,” he said. “We’ll leave before they get up. I promise.” I didn’t have the heart to prod him again. The poor guy was so stoned he could hardly speak, let alone stand up and drive me home. So I rested my head against his shoulder and placed my palm between his legs. Though I told myself I was only going to close my eyes, I drifted into a deep sleep, holding Kadin’s balls in my hand. It must have been the pot. I wasn’t used to getting stoned, and even though I hadn’t smoked a lot myself, there had been enough second-hand smoke to give me a contact high and push me over the edge. By the time I woke up, my head was fuzzy and my mouth was dry. I felt disconnected and out of place. The locker-room scent had grown more

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intense, and I had trouble focusing. When I slowly opened my eyes and realized I was sprawled out face down with my head resting between Kadin’s legs across the other guys’ laps, I tapped Kadin on the chest and tried to wake him without disturbing the others. I had no idea what time it was. There were no windows in this basement. And I was afraid to move. The back of my skirt was up to my waist. The blond guy on the other end had his hand on my legs and the guy with brown hair had his hand resting on my ass. When Kadin didn’t respond, I kissed his balls and tapped him a second time, only harder. All I needed was the guy with brown hair to reach between my legs and find my dick instead of a pussy. I knew I had to get up; I knew we had to leave while they were still asleep. Kadin opened his eyes and looked around. Then he rubbed my shoulders and whispered, “We have to get up slowly.” His voice was wrecked, his eyes were small, and his face was puffy. But even in this condition, he was the best-looking man in the room.

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I nodded to him, kissed his balls again and tried moving my legs to the right. The guy with the blond hair grunted and turned to his right. The guy with the brown hair didn’t move a muscle. And when I tried to get all the way up, the guy with brown hair who had his hand on my ass grabbed my legs and tried to pull me back. I hesitated for a moment while he grumbled something under his breath, then I made a quick move and unfolded myself from their bodies. I found Kadin’s red pants and black boots. But I couldn’t find his socks. There were so many different pairs of white sweat socks on the floor; I didn’t want to give him someone else’s. So he just pulled up his pants and stepped into his boots with his bare feet. We took a quick look around at the half-naked football players to make sure they were all still sleeping, and then Kadin pressed his palm to the small of my back, and we tiptoed up to the main floor. Outside, it was obvious the sun had been up for some time. Kadin kept his arm around me all the way to the car; he opened the door and helped

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me inside. When he climbed in and switched on the engine, the clock on the dash read 10:02. He smiled and slapped my leg. “Those guys will probably sleep until dinnertime,” he said. I could have slept until dinnertime. I’d taken on six very energetic guys the night before and the backs of my legs were sore. My eyes were heavy and the only thing I wanted to do was go back to my dorm and fall into my bed. Kadin had never spent the night with me in the dorm, because he didn’t want anyone to know he was sleeping with a guy. But I really wanted to sleep with Kadin that day, not alone. So I lifted my chin and asked, “Would you like to come back to my room? I can get out of this costume. We can spend the day in bed and go out for something to eat later.” Then I held my breath and waited for a response, hoping he wouldn’t lose interest when I wasn’t in drag. He rubbed his jaw and yawned. “Is your roommate gone?” he asked. “He’s not coming back until tomorrow night.” He shrugged. “Yeah, I’d like to spend the day in bed with you.” He reached for my hand and

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squeezed it. “You were something else last night. I haven’t had that much fun since Halloween.” I smiled. “I’m glad,” I said. “I was worried about how you’d react to me being with all those guys.” We’d already discussed this. But I wanted to go over it one more time just to be sure. “Look,” Kadin said, “we both had fun last night. So did the other guys. I’m honest when it comes to these things. I like getting into group scenes like that, and it really turns me on when I see other guys taking turns on you. I know a lot of people wouldn’t think that’s normal. But I’d rather be honest and up front. I think it’s important to our relationship.” He stopped at an intersection and looked into my eyes. “Besides, I know that even though you complain about getting dressed up in drag this way, deep down I also have a feeling you really like it. And there’s nothing wrong with doing that as long as we do it together.” I couldn’t deny that it had, in fact, turned me on to be with a bunch of rowdy, horny football players. But more than that, it had turned me on even more to know they all thought I was a

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woman, not a man. Though I’d never had the desire to spend my life as a woman and I’d never felt like a woman trapped in a man’s body, I did enjoy getting dressed up and playing the role of a woman during sex. I looked into Kadin’s eyes and gave him an exasperated sigh. “We certainly are an unusual couple. You have to admit that.” Then I pressed my palm to my throat and exhaled. I’d been so worried that what turned me on would ultimately turn on me. “I think we’re very lucky,” he said, pulling into the intersection. “Lucky?” I had serious doubts about that. “We know who we are, we know what we like, and we were lucky enough to find each other. There are a lot of couples out there who aren’t this lucky.” He ran his palm up my dress. “You’re not wearing anything now.” “I had to throw away the thong,” I said. Then I sent him a curious stare and asked, “So we’re a couple?” We hadn’t talked about this before. “I just want to be sure.” He pulled over and put the car in park. He looked at me with a confused expression. “Of

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course we’re a couple. What did you think was going on between us?” I shrugged. “I wasn’t completely sure. We never talk about it, and you’re always so worried about people finding out about us.” “I worry because I’m bi-sexual, not gay. It’s not like I’m embarrassed to be seen with you or anything like that. I’m just not ready yet is all. But I will be, as long as you’re with me.” He frowned and rubbed his jaw. “Now you’re making me wonder. Is everything okay between us?” I sat up and kissed him gently on the lips. He put his hand up my skirt, and I caressed the side of his strong face. “Everything is fine. Take all the time you want, Kadin. I’m prepared to wait forever if that’s what I have to do.” I was telling the truth, too. I’d never wanted to be one of those complaining, political queens, always forcing their significant others to come out of the closet when they weren’t ready. I wouldn’t have wanted that kind of pressure, so how could I put that kind of pressure on someone else? I loved Kadin; I didn’t want to push him into anything he wasn’t ready to do. “And I’ll tell you something else.”

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He looked into the rearview mirror and pulled out onto the road. “What’s that?” “I like being a couple. Even if we are a strange couple.” He smiled and kissed my nose. “Baby, we’re no stranger than anyone else. We’re just honest about it.” The End

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About the Author Ryan Field is a fiction writer who has worked in publishing for over fifteen years. He has worked as an assistant editor and editor for magazines and non-fiction publishers. Aside from his novels, his short stories have been published in anthologies and collections by Alyson Books, Cleis Press and Starbooks Press. His short story, "Down the Basement," is part of a collection of short stories in the Lambda Award winning book, BEST GAY EROTICA 2009. He blogs at www.ryan-field.blogspot.com

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