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CHAPTER 3

He stared at me, and I just stood there, frozen like a rock. He wasn’t at all what I was expecting—though I’m not entirely sure what I was expecting. His house was beautiful, tidy, and well maintained, so I probably should have assumed he would be well put together, but that stack of trans porn magazines and video tapes just put a terrible image in my mind: the image of some festering troll, skin unwashed, hair uncut, teeth unbrushed and radiating a terrible odour. I assumed the man would walk with a hunch. I assumed he would answer the door in stained sweatpants and some sweaty old t-shirt.

But the man who answered the door was clean-cut. His hair was neat and slicked back. He wore thick-framed glasses and was holding a short whiskey glass in a sophisticated sort of way. His face was clean-shaven, leaving only a nicely-trimmed moustache.

“Can I help you?” he asked, tilting his gaze down to his wristwatch. Then, he looked back up at me—slowly, scanning my body and seeing that I was clad in lingerie.

I opened my mouth to speak, but words wouldn’t come forth. I just stood there, mouth agape, shivering and horrified. A powerful regret had overtaken my body. New considerations were flooding my brain; what if the man had a wife? What if he was with her now? What if I just made him outraged? What if he was so humiliated that he went into a fury and beat me up—or killed me in an act of rage?

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Are you lost? Is something wrong?” His gaze explored my body again—not in a lustful way, but in a confused and curious way.

“I’m, uh…” Those were the only two words I was able to say—but it was progress.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

I tried to nod my head, but I just remained frozen. Then, he moved aside, exposing the inside of his immaculate house. “Come in for a second,” he said.

I managed to take the three necessary steps to enter his house: the house that I wanted to out. It was so warm inside: so inviting. There was a particular energy in that house that swirled around you like an aura. It felt so good, and so charming. I wanted to live in a place like that.

“Do you need me to call someone for you?” he asked before taking a small sip from his whiskey glass. Apparently, he thought that I was some sort of hopeless individual—maybe a child, or someone with special needs. I was always being told that I looked younger than I was—but he was now treating me like I was a toddler who wandered away from his mother.

He looked down my body again.

“Do you have the wrong house?” he asked, and now he was starting to sound frustrated.

“No,” I said. “I—I want your house.” I was using a soft, girly voice that I’d only spent the car-ride over practising. I had no idea if it sounded decent or atrocious.

His eyes narrowed and he paused. His lips parted, and now he was the quiet one, trying to wrap his head around what I just said. “Excuse me?” he said finally.

“I want your house,” I said.

He chuckled and took another sip. “It’s, uh, for sale. So you’re welcome to come by for the open house tomorrow. You can get your realtor to make an offer for you.”

“I made one,” I said, looking down at my feet. “Today. I—I just want you to consider it.”

He stared at me. Now, his face was starting to turn from a pinkish tone to a white tone; he was finally clueing into what I was there for. He looked down my body, and I watched his expression change suddenly as soon as he realized I wasn’t actually a woman. I was lifting up that little skirt, showing him the bulge of my penis. I dropped the skirt suddenly, to hide both my bulge and my trembling hand.

“You were the one who went through the closet,” he said; now, his voice was hardly a whisper.

I nodded my head.

“Which offer was yours? You shouldn’t be here right now. This isn’t how it works, you know.”

“Three-eighty,” I said. “It’s all I have. But… I can give you more.” My heart was pounding mercilessly. I don’t think my heart had ever pounded so hard. I felt dizzy, and I wasn’t getting any help from those tall high-heels. I felt like I was on the verge of fainting. I was going to be sick, probably turning green all over.

“What do you mean?” he said.

I stared at him for a long moment. Then, I looked around his house, to make sure he didn’t have some wife sitting there. I took a deep breath. I bit down on my bottom lip. I had the sudden urge to cry as images of Aurelie began to enter my head. She would be devastated if she knew what I was doing—maybe even more devastated than I currently was. And there was a good possibility that this would get back to her; there was a good chance that this man would contact his realtor to complain about me, and that complaint would reach Erin, and then it would reach Aurelie; they were good friends, after all.

But I had to commit. This was our only chance. I turned around and walked over to his kitchen counter: the kitchen counter that I wanted to be mine. I planted down the palms of my hands and I bent over, offering my ass to the homeowner. I spread my legs slightly and then I took a deep breath, waiting for him to make his decision.

“This is extremely inappropriate,” he said, starting to sound angry. And in that moment, I should have ran. I should have sprinted out of that house and rushed home before Aurelie knew that I was gone. I could clean myself up and get everything back where I found it before it was too late. Then, I could just deny that I was ever there. ‘It must have been someone else,’ I could say if Erin told Aurelie about the rumour.

“You can have me however you want me,” I whispered. And I just remained there, wanting to cry, wanting to fall to the ground and curl up into a ball. This was a new low in my life. I’m not sure that I’d ever been so desperate. But I couldn’t stand the thought of Aurelie waking up in that rotten AirBnB for another month. I couldn’t stand the thought of paying so much to stay afloat while we were between homes, letting that down payment dwindle. I didn’t want to live in a glorified trailer under the freeway. I didn’t want to lower our expectations to a townhome in the suburbs, far from where I worked, far from where Aurelie wanted to raise our future children.

“Three-eighty is forty under the market assessment,” the man said to me, without moving from his place. “I can’t possibly accept it. You just need to come up.”

“Why don’t you come up?” I said, looking back at him. “And put it inside of me.” Now, a lump was starting to fill my throat.

He just stared at me. There was a long, terrible silence. His face was white, but probably not as white as mine.

“Come up to four-hundred, at least,” he whispered.

“I don’t have it,” I said.

“Three-ninety-five,” he growled through clenched teeth.

“I—I don’t have it,” I said. “Believe me; I would go up to three-eighty and one dollar if I had the extra dollar.”

That silence returned. And for a moment, it really seemed like he was considering my offer. His eyes were glazed over. He was lost in his own mind, mulling over his options. Then, disappointment struck when he said, “You need to leave… now.”

I turned around. I felt stupid. I felt humiliated beyond belief. I was on the verge of puking all over his beautiful kitchen. I couldn’t believe that I’d done this. I would lose sleep over this horrible memory for the rest of my life…

But I had one last idea, remembering the girl on the cover of that magazine in his closet; she was wearing a similar outfit to what I had on now (it’s why I picked that particular outfit, as a matter of fact). In the photo, she was using one hand to lift up her skirt, and the other to stroke her penis, which was out of her panties. So in that moment of desperation, I reached down. I pulled up my skirt and I fished out my cock.

“What are you doing?” he asked, looking horrified. I was making the humiliation worse, which didn’t even seem possible. But the desperation was stronger than ever.

I gripped my cock and began to tug it, trying to make it hard—just like that cover photo. I wanted him to make the association, even if it was subconscious. Now, he was staring at me. I closed my eyes and tried hard to focus, and it was actually working! I could feel a bit of blood rushing into my shaft, though I’m not quite sure how it was possible; I’m not sure how I was managing to get aroused enough to muster up an erection.

He just stood and watched. He wasn’t calling the police and he wasn’t dragging me out by the ear—so I kept going. I got myself hard and then I started to stroke myself while he watched. His gaze drifted right to my cock, and it almost seemed like he was unable to look away. He just watched with those glowing eyes.

“Don’t you want me?” I asked, putting on my most sultry voice. That must have been the point where I finally snapped, where I’d finally reached rock-bottom and the humiliation couldn’t possibly get any worse. I felt a sudden carelessness, knowing I couldn’t possibly do any worse, knowing the damage had already been done. Now, I didn’t care if he wanted to watch me jerk myself off in his kitchen. I didn’t care if it meant him calling the cops or throwing me out. I wasn’t going to get any more embarrassed than I already was.

But he wasn’t doing anything; he was just watching: frozen, unmoved, mind churning thoughts that only he knew. I managed to muster up a grin, just like on the cover of that magazine. My cock was hard and standing tall now.

And look: I’d seen my share of pornography, even though I didn’t watch often. I knew the sorts of things that girls did to turn men on, so I had a few ideas in my head. First, I looked down and spat, right onto my cock. I gripped that dripping saliva with my fist and pulled it up my shaft, making it glisten. Then I looked into his eyes and saw them glowing brighter, as if he liked what he saw. So I went further. I hopped up onto his kitchen island and planted my heels down, spreading my knees wide. Then, I used one hand to pull one butt cheek open, and I used the other hand to pull the other, showing him my freshly shaved asshole. He kept watching, still frozen—and still possibly considering my offer.

Was this really working?

I looked to the side and saw his bowl of fruit. There was a banana there, still green, but I just needed it for show—not to eat. So I grabbed it, breaking it off of the bundle. I reached it down and slid it up and down my butt crack, using the bottom end to tease my butthole. Then, I slid it up the length of my cock. “This could be you,” I said with a grin.

And maybe I was getting some divine help. It certainly seemed like some other entity had taken control of my body, pulling me out of my paralysis to put on that little show. Or maybe it was just the powerful force of desperation. I couldn’t possibly leave that house without him at least considering my lousy offer. If Aurelie could wake up to some good news, it didn’t matter what happened to me. If he asked me to lay down on his island while he cut me with his knives, I probably would have agreed—just for a smidge of hope.

But now, he was still frozen, just watching with those glowing eyes. I had to keep going. I had to make him want me so badly that he was willing to sacrifice a huge chunk of cash.

So I sucked on that banana. I pushed it as far as I could into my throat. I explored it with my tongue and then I giggled, seeing his face turning dark red. I swear he was even starting to drool slightly at the sight of me. Maybe I looked better than I thought I did.

And now, he was finally moving towards me, taking small steps, without letting his gaze move away; I’m not even sure he was blinking.

I kept the show going, teasing him by gripping my cock and sliding my hand up and down it, by rubbing that banana all over my lingerie-clad body. Then, he stopped short of me. He reached out and grabbed the banana from me, snatching it in an aggressive sort of way. I thought he was going to grab me next, to drag me to the door, to toss me out. But instead, he put his hand on the middle of my chest.

“W—What are you doing?” I asked. It almost seemed like he was trying to use his palm to feel my heart.

Suddenly, he pushed me back, making me fall onto my elbows. He used his hands to push my knees apart, even wider. Then, he brought that banana to my asshole. I gasped, looking down, freezing all over. He touched the bottom end of that banana to my asshole and began to twist slightly, lubricating my hole with my own spit.

“What are you doing?” I asked with a whimper.

Then, he started to push. I gasped and stared down. I didn’t think it would actually go into me… but it did. He found that perfect angle and he managed to cram an inch of banana into my asshole. I can’t say it was the most comfortable experience, with that rough end pushing into soft tissue. I groaned and squirmed, but I didn’t overreact; I tried to remain still. I wanted him to do what he wanted to me, because it gave me a chance. If he was willing to touch me like that, to sodomize me, to succumb to what I was presenting him… then maybe he would take my offer.

“Oh my God,” I moaned, staring down as he pushed the banana into my ass.

“Keep stroking yourself,” he demanded. So I grabbed my cock and kept stroking, trying hard not to clench that banana in my asshole. It was cold, and the hard edges felt strange. It didn’t help that he wanted to see the whole thing inside of me.

But he was horny now; he was consumed with lust: the exact kind of lust that makes a man do stupid things, things like accepting an offer forty-thousand below the expectation. “Shit,” I moaned. Now, he only had that little stem in his hand. The rest of the banana was inside of me… but a moment later, it was all in me.

My asshole clenched shut, and the banana was gone, as if I was some magician who just performed a magic trick. But I could feel it in me. My body was sucking it in deeper, and I was descending into a state of panic. I didn’t want to make that awkward trip to the hospital, to have them remove a banana from me.

“How does it feel?” he asked.

“It—It’s deep,” I whimpered.

Then, he leaned forward and took my cock from me. He tilted it down to his tongue and he began to suck me. Suddenly, I felt like I was cheating on my wife. She was the only one who had ever put her lips to my cock before. Now, I could feel a stranger’s tongue, moving up and down the length of my shaft.

I moaned. That banana was still inside of me, lost… but maybe it was worth it.

He leaned back and wiped his lips. That’s when I noticed he’d gotten his pants down, and his cock was standing tall, throbbing: as hard as a marble statue. It was even twitching in the air, desperate for some pleasure. At least I was fairly sure he wouldn’t last long.

He used his big, strong hands to roll me onto my stomach. Then he pulled me down, off of the island, until my heeled feet were on his floor. He ensured I was still bent over, and then he dropped to his knees. I felt fingers going into me. I felt them moving around. Then, a moment later, I felt him pulling out. He’d managed to find that banana, and now he was pulling it out. He pulled slowly. My anus tried to grip it, scared he was going to pull out my organs with it. I heard a small gush as he pulled it out. I heard him chuckle before he discarded the banana. Then I got a spank on the ass: a hard slap that made me gasp loudly, perking upright. A second later, the tip of his cock was pressed against my asshole.

He reached around and grabbed my penis. He squeezed it firmly and tugged slowly, letting out a loud groan. I was frozen, but I knew I had to stay in character; I knew I had to keep him satisfied if I wanted any chance of owning his house. “Are you going to fuck me, daddy?” I asked softly. I’m not sure why I went with ‘daddy’, but I had a feeling he would like it; I had a feeling it would turn him on—and I was right. He gripped my cock harder and let out an elected sort of grunt.

Then, he was pushing into me. I gasped loudly, perking up higher. He pushed me back down with the palm of his hand. “Take it, baby,” he groaned.

“Fuck me, daddy,” I whimpered. He pushed the whole length of his long cock into my virgin asshole. “Fuck me hard, daddy.”

He fucked slow, but hard. Each thrust made me gasp. Each thrust had his pelvis slapping loudly against my ass. My legs wobbled; I had a feeling that walking was going to be tough for a few days—but it was worth it. This offer came with an expectation; and that expectation was that he would take my offer.

“Oh God!” I moaned, feeling his long, warm, throbbing member, deep in my rectum. I could feel each and every inch. I could feel his hard, swollen tip. I could feel it all—and he wasn’t letting off the gas.

Finally, he started thrusting faster. His claws dug deeper into my skin. He pinned me hard. I couldn’t move—but I wouldn’t have been able to move even if he hadn’t been pinning me; I was numb all over; his cock was thrusting into some pressure point or something, making my legs and arms fail, making my head fall forward. I was like a rag doll on that counter.

“Fuck!” he screamed. And then, he pulled out suddenly I saw his fat tip swelling for a moment before blasting towards me. I felt him showering me with hot, sticky cum. It was a real mess, ruining that outfit. He quickly pushed his cock back into my gaping hole to make sure a few blasts ended up inside of me, and then he pulled out and wiped his tip on my reddened butt cheek.

I was still limp, still numb all over, out of breath—and terrified. I wasn’t sure exactly what I’d just done, or what kind of deal we’d just made. I heard him step away. I heard him pick up his whiskey glass, and then I heard him take a sip. Finally, I managed to turn and look back at him for a long moment before saying, “Are you taking my offer?”

He looked at me, and that flushed expression returned. The silence returned, and I knew things weren’t about to go my way. “Forty thousand dollars is a lot of money,” he said. “I can’t just leave it on the table. Your offer wasn’t even the best one that I got today.”

“Please,” I said, feeling the last bit of energy fleeing my body. Was he really turning me down after accepting my body? “I need this house.”

“I’ll think about it,” he said.

“No,” I said. “I need more than that. I—I can’t keep living the way I’ve been living. Please. I let you do what you wanted to me.”

“It hardly lasted ten minutes,” he said. “That’s four-thousand dollars a minute.”

“It felt good… didn’t it?”

He kept staring at me. “Be back here tomorrow night,” he said. Then he walked to the door and opened it. “Now get going. I have to clean up before the open house starts tomorrow.”

I was devastated. I couldn’t tell if I should have hope or not. He was telling me to come back, but he was also going forward with the next open house. He was turning down my offer with his words… but then why did he want me back?

I wanted to get a clear answer from him, but now, I could tell that he was starting to get frustrated. The last thing I wanted was to piss him off, so I scurried by him, still covered and dripping in his cum. I didn’t even look into his eyes as I rushed off to my car.

Now, I had other priorities; I had to get home before Aurelie noticed me missing. I had to get cleaned up—and I had to get that outfit into the wash. I needed to get it dried and hung back up, and it was late. I still had a long night ahead of me.