Brent had an office job in the financial industry. It had something to do with investments and money management, but that wasn't my world at all and I think my eyes kind of glazed over a little when he hit me with too much jargon that meant nothing to me. Still, if I ever had any money that needed managing he would probably be a pretty good guy to hit up for advice.
"Oh, man that feels so awesome," I said out loud without totally meaning to.
"That's because you're so amazing, baby. You bring out the best in me," Brent grunted in reply.
I suddenly realized that he had interpreted my utterance of surprise as a compliment to the uniqueness of his skill or technique or his remarkable size. I was actually just surprised that I wasn't throwing up or in physical agony from having something repeatedly jammed into my snatch with so much intensity, but I let him bask in the glow of my assumed praise. He may have been doing something totally awesome that set him apart from most men but for all I knew other women might think he was a lousy lay. If you'd only tasted canned spaghetti you might think that was as good as it got until somebody's Italian grandmother made you the real deal.
The important things to me were that I liked Brent and could think of him as "cute" or "handsome" or "attractive," that his cock felt really good in my pussy, and that I didn't really seem to mind being in a totally different role in the sack than I was used to. It wasn't nearly as hard to be a girl in bed as I had assumed it would be.
We stayed in the basic missionary position until he finished, although I did have my legs repositioned a couple of times along the way. I obviously couldn't see his cum spurting into me but I knew it was there. That was followed by some more kissing and touching and whatnot, and then some more conversation before I announced that I needed to be getting home. He offered to let me stay the night but I thought it was probably best not to push things too fast. I actually found myself uttering the words "not on the first date," which sounded ridiculous to me but Brent seemed to understand and he took it in stride, probably as I would have done if some crazy bitch I just fucked suddenly informed me that she was playing by some arbitrary rulebook that was entirely in her head.
I think the main reason I really wanted to get out while the going was good was my fear that by spending the night, and being there the next morning, I would be expected to suck his cock at some point. Not that I thought he was going to force my head down on him or anything, but I figured the subject would come up sooner or later. I didn't want to come across like some scared teenager, or admit that I didn't know the first thing about giving head. I had actually practiced a little bit with my dildos, just in case, but I couldn't really see me ever putting some man's penis between my lips. Stroking it was sort of familiar. Sucking it was gay as maypole.
It felt kind of dumb to get dressed again, since I was just going down the hall, so I gathered up my belongings, put my jacket back on, kissed Brent goodnight, and made a dash for my door with my stuff pressed up against my bosom. I could hear Brent laughing in the background as I fumbled for my key, much as I had done on the day I moved in, and I just shot him a quick smile and kissed the air before I disappeared into my own room. I honestly have no idea why I did that. I had been forced to make a quick exit from a woman's bedroom once or twice when a husband or boyfriend came home unexpectedly so I wasn't a total stranger to running bare-assed through a semi-public place, but I guess I just felt kind of frisky and playful, and I think Brent got a kick out of it, which is probably really what I wanted most.
After a hot bath I pulled on a t-shirt and hopped in bed. I tried watching a little TV but my mind couldn't seem to focus on it. At one point I started laughing because the whole thing was so absurd and that poor Brent guy had no idea he was really fucking another dude, and later I started crying because it had all been so beautiful the way things had gone but I knew that I could never allow myself to be in love with anyone because I only had four years of being the person I was right now.
"Crazy bitch mood swings," I muttered to myself as I got out of bed and wandered to the kitchen looking for some ice cream.
I found some and sat at a table eating it straight out of the carton in the unladylike way that I still did. There was probably nothing fundamentally wrong about the idea of having a relationship, I thought. I had four years. None of my previous relationships had lasted that long, and lately I had been on a pretty cold streak in that department. Of course there was always the chance that it might last, and then I'd be totally screwed when the time was up, but that seemed pretty unlikely to happen. I wasn't even sure that I wanted to have a relationship with Brent, or anyone else for that matter, but I figured I better decide right away whether that was even an option for me. Things have a way of escalating rather quickly where matters of the heart are concerned.
Fuck buddy. That seemed like the best category to keep Brent in. He lived just down the hall so I was bound to run into him quite a bit and it might be handy to have someone to drop in on when I was feeling down, or lonely, or horny. And if we wanted to go someplace he could certainly do a fine job of escorting me. Maybe that was more like a friend with benefits. Fuck, I had no idea really.
I had spent enough time moving in and getting settled...and getting laid. It was time to find a job. That was one of the biggies on the list of my responsibilities. It was going to be tricky since I couldn't very well use all of my previous work history as a reference. It was going to be even trickier since I wasn't a buffed guy anymore I was a pretty average-sized girl, and the construction business is about as male dominated as you can get.
I was planning to say that I worked for my uncle's construction company, which was true, and my uncle Harry was one of the few people I had been allowed to let in on my secret. I know he must have thought I was the biggest queer in the world but I tried to play up all the money I was going to get and he was more than willing to serve as a reference, pretending that I had worked for him as a woman. Other than that I just had to hope that my knowledge and skill would impress someone enough to give me a chance. And just to be safe I decided to wear something that would show off my boobs really well, especially if I leaned over someone's desk.
CHAPTER 7:
"Honey, no offense, but why in the world would you want to do this for a living?" asked Ed Platt, the foreman on the project who was supposedly hiring. "Jeez, you could probably make more money in tips alone working at Hooters or something. You've certainly got the natural assets for it."
"Construction's what I do. I've been doing it a long time and I'm damn good at it. Are you afraid your men won't be able to concentrate on their work because they'll be too busy staring at my tits and ass?" I asked rather defiantly.
"Well, yes, actually. Especially if you plan to go around dressed like you are right now."
"They'll get used to me once they see that I know my shit."
I was kind of laying the "tough girl" routine on a little thick, but I knew that I had to. I would have to be tough to be a girl on just about any construction crew. I think Ed liked me because I was spunky, and because my tits were practically falling out of my shirt, and I hoped I could convince him to give me a shot without having to get under his desk and blow him or something.
He tested me on my knowledge with some pretty basic questions at first, but since I aced those with ease he got a little more in depth. I'm sure the lingo flying around that office would have been as foreign to Brent as his high finance talk was with me, but eventually Ed realized that I wasn't just blowing smoke up his ass and probably did know a thing or two about construction.
"You're hired," he finally said as we shook hands on the deal. "Just try not to distract the boys too much, will you? I have enough trouble keeping those jokers working as it is."
"Sure thing boss. But if it gets really hot I tend to work topless like the men...just kidding, just kidding!" I said after giving him just enough time to look like he was going to blow a gasket.
"Well I'm all for women's lib, honey, and
I sure wouldn't mind seeing that, but I think you'd cause a riot or something."
"I'll try to keep my shirt on. At least while I'm on the clock," I said with a wink as I left his office.
My heart was actually pounding when I got outside. I didn't think I was going to be able to pull it off. But I knew these guys and I knew that they'd want me to be both tough and flirty. I was probably going to hear a lot of rude comments and be the butt of many lewd jokes. I figured it was best to show that I could take it and had a sense of humor about things. It also didn't hurt that I noticed the bulge in Ed's pants. I had no desire to fuck him for a job, but if turning him on helped me get it, so be it. You have to play the cards you're dealt.
My first day on the job I was nervous, but ready for just about anything. I knew that I knew what I was doing, as far as my job responsibilities were concerned but I was the new guy, which was bad enough, and even worse I was the new girl.
"Hey honey, that toolbox looks kind of a heavy for such a little girl. You need help with that," one of the older guys on the crew called out as I was walking to the assembly area.
"Gee, Pops, I was going to offer to help you. Do you actually work here? I thought someone's grandson must have left his tools at home and you were dropping them off," I shot back.
That got a huge laugh from the boys and I knew that I was off on the right foot. It was probably good if they thought of me as a smart-assed bitch. I would still have to prove myself on the job to be really accepted but hopefully I could pull that off as smoothly.
I met the crew, and they seemed pretty much like any other crew I had ever worked with. A lot of swagger. A lot of testosterone pumping everywhere. A lot of pointed jokes that probably sounded cruel but were really just a form of male bonding. There were bound to be a couple of total assholes in the bunch, as there always were, but that's probably true of any place you work. On the whole construction workers were usually pretty darn good people, as far as I was concerned. But of course I had never had to work with them being the only female in their midst.
"Are you married baby?" one of the guys asked right away.
"Nope," I replied.
"Got a boyfriend?" he persisted.
"Nope," I repeated.
"Lesbian," he said knowingly, which got another good laugh.
"If you're nice to me I might put on my strap on and let you take it up the butt," I said while simulating the act of humping someone from behind.
I was a hit. I don't know whether they thought I actually was a lesbian or not, but if they did that probably just made me seem all the more appealing. I really didn't mind if they thought I only liked girls because that might keep some of them from hitting on me constantly. It was probably a pretty good angle to play, and in truth I still did like girls so we had that in common.
There were moments during the day where I wondered whether I had made a mistake by trying to do my old job because my body simply wasn't as strong as it used to be. I couldn't carry as much weight without straining and I couldn't swing a hammer quite as fast or as hard as I used to but I don't think I did too bad, under the circumstances. Not every guy on that crew was some kind of Adonis with muscles of steel, though there were some, and I think I held my own pretty well. They had no idea that I wasn't performing up to the level I used to be at when I was a man. The fact that I was pretty, and my shorts kind of ran up my butt, probably didn't hurt, but by the end of the day I was invited to join the boys for a drink at their favorite watering hole.
I felt relieved and happy that I had found work so quickly, and it appeared that I had been accepted rather fast, as well. Sure, there had been plenty of jokes and comments, and I imagined those would continue, but so what? What troubled me was the fact that I was the one who was being a little distracted at times. Some of those boys had really nice bodies and it was hard not to notice, especially if they went around showing off their bare arms or bare chests. That was just the way it had always been when I had been on a crew, but back then I was one of those guys and didn't think anything at all about seeing some sweaty hunk of manhood working a jackhammer. I sure thought about it now and I think it made me a little moist.
"So tell me the truth. Are you really just a bean licker or do you like guys too?" asked Sam, one of the rather well-built specimens I had been ogling all day.
"Maybe if I get to know you better, or I get really drunk you'll find out for yourself someday," I replied with a grin as I chugged down my beer.
"Well if your girlfriend is as pretty as you are bring her along. I can get both of you drunk and show you a really good time. You know what they say...a lesbian is just a woman who hasn't been fucked by a real man yet."
"Really? I've always heard it as a straight guy is just a man who hasn't gotten head from a queer yet," I replied.
Both jokes were ridiculous and offensive but we laughed anyway. We were off the clock and pounding a few brews. I was sure that everyone was a bit curious about me and what the hell I really was doing there, but they were trying to take me at face value. I appreciated that. The fact that Sam turned me on was a variable I had not anticipated, but there was no rule against that. Hell, it might turn out to be a great fringe benefit of the job.
CHAPTER 8:
"So did it surprise you how quickly you had sexual relations with a man?"
"Ah...yeah, you could say that."
I was making my report to one of my counselors, Dr. Farnum. It included such highlights as moving into a new apartment, finding a new job, and having a cock inside my new pussy. Part of my report was written, and part of it was oral. The really important thing was that I try to be as honest as possible. If I said just what I thought someone might want to hear, or withheld anything because I found it embarrassing or uncomfortable, then the data collected would be kind of messed up.
"And you've found that you feel sexually attracted to other men besides your neighbor, like some of your co-workers, even though you claim to have never been attracted to men before?"
"Hey, there's no claim about it," I replied a bit defensively.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it to sound like you weren't being honest. Latent homosexual tendencies are quite common in many people. You might have felt some previous attraction to men without being consciously aware of it," the doctor explained.
"Well, I certainly wasn't aware of it so that's really all I've got to go on," I said, feeling a little uncomfortable with the way this was going.
"Have you found yourself thinking or feeling like you're fooling people into believing that you're a woman?"
"Actually I have," I admitted honestly.
"That's really not all that surprising. Your body is completely female by any standard that might be applied, but your brain might take a while to accept that fact. Consequently you may find yourself attempting to adopt what you think of as typically female behavior. It's a pretty common coping mechanism. You might find that you choose dresses or skirts over pants or jeans even if pants totally appropriate, or even more practical for whatever you're doing. Or you might find yourself decorating your apartment with a lot of pink and frilly things. Or in this case you might find yourself suddenly attracted to members of the opposite sex. None of it is really a conscious decision it's just your brain trying to convince itself of the authenticity of your female gender."
"So you're saying I may act overly feminine sometimes because I'm having a hard time accepting the idea that I'm really female?" I asked for clarification.
"Yes, that's a very good way of putting it," said Dr. Farnum. "It may turn out that you really like dresses and things that are pink and frilly and maybe even men, but in these early stages I wouldn't worry too much about anything like that. You're going through a unique experience. There's not a lot of research on the subject yet. That's why what you're doing is so important. It's probably best to just go with your feelings and try not to over-think it. You collect the data and let us try to figure out what it all means."
I don't kn
ow if the doctor meant it as a pep talk but it certainly lifted my spirits. It actually made a lot of sense to me. Of course I would try to act as female as possible. How else could I really live with myself and the reality that I had actually volunteered to give up my manhood for four whole years? It didn't mean that my manhood was weak for having sex with a guy so soon. If anything it was probably the opposite. I was so ashamed of what I was doing that my brain tried to compensate by rushing me into the most feminine act I could think of. Quite logical really.
On the other hand there was that whole latent homosexuality thing that was kind of disturbing to think about. I wasn't crazy at all about the idea that I might have been subconsciously craving cock all these years without knowing it, and that suddenly turning female just brought it all to the surface.
I decided to concentrate on the doctor's advice and just go with my feelings, whatever they might turn out to be. I couldn't really be blamed for whatever I did. It was all for the good of science and would hopefully help people down the line. It actually made me feel kind of proud that I was in it for more than just the money.
CHAPTER 9:
"Oh, God, Sam! Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck you're so fucking big!"
"The bigger the better, right honey?"
I was in a little storage shed on the construction site and everybody was off eating lunch somewhere. Everybody except for me and Sam. I was facing the wall with my back arched and my pants down and Sam was right behind me slamming his massive prick into my cunt and squeezing my tits. We were both trying to be quiet but I was finding that very difficult to do.
"Oh, fuck...oh, fuck...I think you're making me cum Sam!" I cried.
"Well I should hope so. I'd be pretty offended if you didn't," he chuckled.
"How can anything that big fit in there?" I moaned.
Getting the Job Done Page 3