Abdul woke the following morning to a car engine starting and tires kicking up dirt. It was Jeff heading off to work. Abdul rubbed his eyes and pulled the sweat-stained sheets off his body. He managed to catch thirty more minutes of shuteye before deciding once and for all to get up. He shuffled down the hallway and into the bathroom to take a quick morning shower and brush his teeth.
When he went to fill up a Dixie cup with water and rinse out his mouth, Abdul almost spit it out right away. The water had a foul taste. He filled up the cup a second time and looked at it. It even had a faint greenish hue to it. He sniffed it once and poured it down the drain. He made a mental note to only drink bottled water from now on.
When he ran into Veronica later that morning, he asked her about it.
“It’s well water,” she explained. “It’s not like in the city. Here it comes from underground right beneath our house. I’ve never seen anything strange about it. But most people say it does taste different. We’ve just gotten used to it.”
Abdul supposed she was right and mentioned nothing more about the topic. Everything was a little different in country life. No public trash collection services for one thing. If you wanted more than six fuzzy channels you had to purchase satellite television which was prone to losing signal if clouds rolled in. Miles between neighbors. And the water tasted a little strange. Veronica was probably right; it was no big deal.
Abdul spent the afternoon sorting through his belongings to make the spare bedroom resemble—in the most general sense—that of his own place to call home. He set up his alarm clock on a bedside table, reassembled the bedding with his own comforter and pillows, and stowed away his underwear and socks into an old squeaky dresser that Jeff and Veronica hadn’t sold off yet. There was a fishtank on top, which he left. Apparently his generous friends had once owned some aquatic pets. He tapped the water-spotted glass and finished up.
At two o’clock sharp, he had a raging hard-on. It was peculiar, like that of an adolescent not yet accustomed to all the hormones flooding into his juvenile body. Abdul had taken a break to wipe the sweat off his face and drink some cold water—even with the fan running nonstop and the air-conditioning whirring away, it was still warm. And then he happened to notice that his shorts were tented. It wasn’t completely a shock, though the timing of it was just bizarre. Stephanie and him had started sleeping in different rooms before the break-up, and you had to go farther back in the memory bank before you found the last actual recollection of real sex. With everything going on over the last few weeks, Abdul hadn’t tended to the most basic of male desires. And boy was it resolute today. It remained rock-hard for another twenty minutes.
Finally, Abdul took one more look at his persistent flagstaff, shut and locked the door, and lay on the bed. He had no particular woman in mind. Stephanie came to his thoughts a few times, but he shunned her not long after. She was attractive, but not the woman he wanted to fantasize about right now. Then it was other faceless women. And Veronica. He felt like he was betraying Jeff for even thinking about her in a sexual manner, but he couldn’t help it. His manhood needed a release, and images of Veronica seemed to prevail more than any other woman. He tugged on his cock for a few minutes, picturing Veronica without any clothes on, and retrieved a tissue just in time to release his seed. Three minutes, if that. That’s all it took. One of the quickest he had ever had. Some fourteen-year-old boy would’ve been jealous.
After another tasty meal and an evening of television shows interluded by a movie on the Lifetime cable channel, Abdul retired to the spare bedroom. It was his first full day living in a strange house in a strange room, but he was gradually becoming more comfortable. It was already an improvement without Stephanie, but still awkward living with a friend and his wife.
And his cock was apparently excited by this series of recent events, too. It was stiff again, poking right through his boxer shorts. Abdul took one look at it and thought, Not now, before he drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, things got really weird.
Abdul had set his alarm for nine; he had to be at the bank to sign all the final foreclosure paperwork on his two-story house back in the city. All standard stuff. It had to be done. He had to write his signature on all those documents telling him that yes, the house is no longer yours. Here’s the knife jabbing deeper into your heart. Get ready for the twist.
What wasn’t standard was Abdul’s current choice of underwear. He had gone to bed with boxers on, and when he saw he wasn’t wearing them anymore, he sat right up. They had been replaced by a pair of panties. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Pink cotton panties! Upon this revelation, his manhood began to stir and poked out, all hard and swollen. The panties were not the greatest fit—particularly that wedgie-like feeling in the back. They weren’t just any panties, but thong panties. But from where? The only source of panties anywhere in the house was in the other bedroom across the hall, in Veronica’s underwear drawer.
As Abdul stared at his erection, he began to really wonder. How in the bleeding devil? Was it sleepwalking? Abdul had no interest in cross-dressing, and that included putting on some woman’s underwear. It must’ve been sleepwalking then. At some point during the night, he had gone into Jeff’s and Veronica’s bedroom and swiped a pair of panties and put them on. It was a goddamn miracle he hadn’t been discovered. He couldn’t begin to imagine what they’d think if they saw him like this.
Abdul pulled back the waistband and peered underneath. Not only had he put on panties, he had added something extra during the night. He stared at his disobedient cock. Thanks a lot.
Jeff had already left for work, and Veronica was outside tending to the small garden out back. Abdul dressed himself and sneaked across the hallway and threw the used panties into the hamper. Hopefully that was the first and last episode of sleepwalk cross-dressing. What was going to happen tomorrow? Would he wake up wearing a dress? Full makeup?
Naturally Abdul put the panty-wearing episode behind him as quick as possible. He jerked off again—because his cock was so insistent and refused to go down otherwise. Then he headed for the bank. With all the paperwork ready and waiting to be signed, Abdul quickly forgot all about the morning’s wakeup call. It was just some freak occurrence, nothing more. Probably from all the stress. Stress made people do strange things.
Before long it was the weekend. Every dotted line had been signed and dated. The bank officially owned the house again. Stephanie’s lawyers wanted him to meet with her next week to finalize the divorce. There was an end in sight. Everything would be done and behind him. Abdul would be officially broke with no house to his name or a job, but he could start clawing his way out of the deep pit.
On Saturday he woke bright and early. He hadn’t set the alarm, but nevertheless he was wide awake. A throbbing erection greeted him. He automatically wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock and starting stroking—a common morning routine as of late. He didn’t know why he was so horny this week. Hey, it felt good! But it was just unusual. Not as unusual as waking up in panties. Maybe being with Stephanie for so long had killed his male sex drive, and only now it was coming back.
He found Jeff and Veronica waiting for him in the living room.
“Abdul.” Jeff took him by the shoulder. “We need to have a little discussion.” He didn’t look too happy.
Veronica similarly looked displeased.
“What’s going on?”
Jeff jumped right in. “We know you have certain … tastes. Everyone does. Everybody is different, right? We just … we’d be happier if you did it on your own computer.”
“In private,” Veronica snapped.
“Yeah, in private. Not on the family computer. You know how those sites are, right? Veronica knows. The computer might get a virus from it, and we really don’t want that … you know, because we don’t really look at those things in this house.”
Abdul was becoming increasingly puzzled. None of them were dealing with specifics—only vague
accusations with occasional threatening glares. Then he saw it. On the iMac in the corner of the room were huge flashing words: DIRTY BIG-DICKED SHEMALE SLUTS. Surrounding the logo were transsexual women in various states of undress, some holding their cocks, others giving men sloppy blowjobs. To make matters worse, next to the keyboard was a box of tissues.
Veronica shook her head. “I can’t believe this. You said he was normal, dear.”
“I did,” Jeff concurred. “And he is.”
“That wasn’t me,” Abdul said. “I don’t look at … that type of stuff. And I wouldn’t do it on your computer. I swear.”
Veronica wasn’t convinced. “Well, I certainly don’t look at it, and Jeff doesn’t. So did someone break in just to look at porn on our computer?”
They were pinning it on him. Abdul was, too. It was just like the morning earlier in the week when he had woken with panties on. He sure as hell wasn’t going to mention that to either of them, but the same thing was happening here. Only, instead of foraging for panties in Veronica’s dresser, he had sat himself down in front of their iMac and fapped to shemale porn. Terrific.
His cock was achingly hard again.
Jeff patted him on the back. “We’re just going to forget about this episode, okay Abdul? If that’s what you’re into, that’s … that’s fine.”
“But I’m not.”
Jeff’s cheeks were beginning to show color. “That’s okay too. And Veronica hates having the computer cluttered with spam and all that stuff.”
Abdul shot Veronica an apologetic smile, but she only frowned. Sorry, that wasn’t me. I was sleepwalking again. Honest. Truth or not, they wouldn’t believe him.
The internet browser was closed, and no one said another word about it.
It was something unconscious, something repressed perhaps. One night of sleepwalking was rare enough—Abdul never remembered doing it except once when he was younger. Somehow he had gone from the bed to the couch overnight and couldn’t explain it. But these incidents were far more severe. Unknowingly putting on women’s underwear? Jerking off to transsexual porn on the family computer? He had no memory of either. So, when he said it wasn’t him, it really wasn’t. Not a cognizant him anyway.
Once again, Abdul hoped that the nightly excursions were done and through with. After an awkward meal with Jeff and Veronica, he couldn’t sleep. The hours ticked by. He didn’t want to close his eyes and find that he had done some other reproachable act the following morning. If a sleeping Abdul was perfectly capable of using a computer and browsing the dark pages of the internet, then what else might he do without his own awareness?
He found out on Sunday morning.
Abdul’s eyes slowly cracked open. The first light of dawn was long gone, but he refused to get up. It had been well after midnight before he had found the courage to get some much-needed shuteye. Yet, even when he glanced at the clock and saw that it was nearly eleven o’clock, he still felt exhausted. And he felt a hand squeezing his junk.
“Hey there, sugar. You paid for a sleepover, and I’m about to split. But if you throw in another hundred, I’ll make the goodbye extra special.”
Abdul jumped out of bed. “What the hell?” A naked Hispanic woman occupied the other half of the mattress. “Who … who are you?”
“Your fantasy.” She rolled onto her stomach, showing off her round ass. “Yes or no? I don’t have all day to wait. A hundred for thirty minutes. Two hundred if you really want to find out how tight my asshole is.” She winked. “I see you staring at it. It’ll be just as good as last night. And last night was really good. I’ve never had a ride quite like you, honey.”
Holy shit, Abdul thought. There had to be a mistake! But no, she was completely serious. She was offering him morning sex for a price. She was a prostitute. And again Abdul thought about the other nights where things happened that he didn’t remember. But this was something far worse. Somehow he had called a prostitute and had sex with her without ever realizing it. This was some split-personality asylum prerequisite shit. He was standing at the edge of the bottomless pit of insanity and staring into the void.
“Was I … driving last night?”
The woman raised an eyebrow. “You picked me up, sure. And you’ll have to drive me back. I ain’t hitching a ride.”
Abdul placed his head into his palms. Jesus Christ.
Thankfully there was a blessing. Jeff and Veronica were frequent churchgoers and always went on Sunday mornings. Even though the sermon ended at eleven-thirty, it was a long drive from the city. Understandably Abdul refused the seconds and waited on the woman to dress herself—in a leopard-printed dress that came down to just under her crotch, no less—before driving her back to the city.
When he returned home, Jeff and Veronica were back. He told them he had gone out for a quiet drive. Nothing more. They never had to know the complete truth. Later, Abdul overheard Veronica talking about some money that had been misplaced. It was supposed to be in her dresser, but she couldn’t find it.
Keep it up, Abdul told himself. More of this and Jeff is gonna kick me out.
Energy shots were actually quite effective.
Abdul bought a twelve-pack at the closest gas station—nine miles away—before Sunday night. Once ten o’clock rolled around, he swallowed one every four hours. Drowsiness got kicked in the nuts. He was fully awake for all of night and throughout the morning. He saw the sun rise. He saw Jeff back out of the driveway and head off for work. He heard Veronica get up and a vacuum running on the opposite side of the house. No sleep meant no sleepwalking. It was a temporary fix of course; Abdul couldn’t operate completely without sleep. But maybe if he took short naps throughout the day nothing would happen. Veronica or Jeff might even see him sleepwalking and understand what was going on. It was something to consider.
Once noon rolled around, tiredness started to creep back in. It wasn’t the traditional type. Being doped up on energy shots for this long made him as twitchy as a sex offender taking a lie detector test. But every once in a while he’d feel the weight pulling his eyelids down. His brain wanted to rest. It was telling him to goto bed. And then Abdul would take another energy shot and tell his brain to shut up.
At one o’clock, he really began to feel strange. He stared at the red LED letters, watching them change every sixty seconds. It felt like he was drifting off to sleep, yet his eyes were still open, watching, observing. Not really seeing anything.
And then he was in the other bedroom, naked—well, except for a maroon-colored lace panty wrapped around a stiff cock. Other undergarments were strewn along the floor around his feet. He snapped back to reality, realizing that it was happening again.
Oh no! Nonononono!
Footsteps were approaching. Abdul furiously grabbed everything off the floor and stuffed it all into the one open drawer. But it was too late. Veronica rounded the corner just in time to see his hands wrist-deep in a disorganized pile of women’s underwear. And completely naked. Those two didn’t make a good combination.
“What are you doing?” She was furious, and rightfully so.
Abdul bumbled through words. “It’s not what it—”
“Get out!” she screamed, pointing across the hall. “Get out of my underwear drawer you sick pervert!”
Abdul held his head low in shame. He found his own clothes in the spare bedroom. Again, with an acute ability that he did not fully understand, he had somehow stripped out of them while in a trance and gone across the hall to Veronica’s panty drawer. It didn’t make any sense. And he couldn’t explain it to her! Or to anyone. Himself included.
Before shutting the door, Abdul heard Veronica say, “I’m telling Jeff all about this when he gets home!”
The last straw was coming. Abdul could feel it. The camel’s back was about to break. Jeff had been his one true friend in all this mess, offering him a room when he had nowhere else to go. And he was quickly ruining that generosity, eating away at it with one perverted act after another. It was
getting worse.
And his goddamn erection wouldn’t go down. He hated the sight of it. It was betraying him, like another organism altogether. There was no reason he should’ve been aroused right now, yet his cock was pulsing with blood. He stared at it for a long while, clearing his mind, thinking of nothing else than the vast emptiness beyond thoughts and reason. And still it persisted, calling out to him, stretching a little longer and wider as if it wasn’t already hard enough. His cock was linked to whatever had been happening over the past few days. He didn’t know how or why, but there was something going on.
Finally he gave in and grasped it.
In spite of breaking several rules as a house guest, masturbating felt wonderful. Morning jerk-offs weren’t enough anymore; Abdul had to tug on his manhood three or four times per day, and usually it was still hard during cooldown periods. He cursed himself for thinking about Veronica again, but that was the first woman that popped into his head. And all her panties. He couldn’t forget those. He planned to avoid her for the remainder of the day, let things cool off. She probably never wanted to see him again. That was understandable.
Abdul lay on the bed and continued rubbing his cock. He couldn’t remember it ever being so hard, so thick. It felt like a damn monster between his fingers, throbbing with relentless sexual energy. And the entirety of it was more sensitive than he had ever felt in his life. His loins tingled. The pressure surged. It was going to be one hell of an orgasm. Abdul was ready, knowing full and well that he was one sick bastard at the moment. Didn’t matter. First the orgasm, then the self-loathing.
But it never came. The bubbling-cum-about-to-overflow-a-cauldron feeling was there. All the energy was focused on moving his hand swiftly up and down. Veronica was naked and showing the goods in his mind. Yet, something was holding it back. It was blocked. That made no sense to Abdul, but that’s what it felt like! No matter how intense the pleasure felt, he couldn’t reach the climax. Every time he took a step toward the edge, the edge pulled further away. He yanked on his cock even harder, panting and sweating. He had to come. He had to expel all the seed that had been waiting to—
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