[Patreon Exclusive] HIS NEW GIRLFRIEND: Chapter 3 (Patreon)

My heart was racing as I stood in the line-up to get into the club. I could hear the thud of the bass inside, the hollering, cheering, excited voices of the crowd, the chattering people waiting among me in the line-up. And over all of that, I could hear the thudding of my heart against my chest wall. With every passing moment, I became a little bit more confident. For every second that no one called me out on being a man, I became more sure that I really did pass as a woman. A whistling across the street caught my attention, and the attention of every other woman in that line-up, and the whistler was looking at me. “Lookin’ good, baby!” he called out as he passed.

I was starting to realize there were lots of men looking my way. As I looked around, scanning my surroundings, I noticed their faces turning away quickly, abruptly. Some of them didn’t look away. Some of them kept their eyes on me. Some smiled. One man winked. They would be searching me out in the club, I was sure of that. So far the operation was a success.

Then I noticed the bouncer, waving me towards him. I had to check behind me to make sure it truly was directed at me, and it was. I walked past a good dozen people towards him. “Yes?” I said, speaking aloud for the first time in public as a woman.

He said nothing. Instead, he lifted the velvet rope, letting me into the club. My heart soared. I skipped the line. I couldn’t remember any other time in my whole life I’d had a similar privilege. And there I was, walking away from dozens of others, picked out of a crowd, crowned the champion of the line.

It was dark and loud inside, which provided yet another wave of relief. I could have spoken in my deepest voice and no one would have noticed a difference. I could probably have walked around with my cock out and people might not have even noticed. But I wasn’t there to test my limits, I was there to practice my act, practise my Kylie.

I went to the bar, but before I could pay for my drink, a man stepped up with a ten dollar bill. “It’s on me,” he said. He has a handsome enough man, white dress shirt, thick arms, nice stubble beard. He had a charming smile. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Kylie,” I told him. I could feel the warmth rising to my cheeks. No one, my parents aside, had ever bought me anything before. No one had ever made an effort to woo me, to charm me. And here was Mr. Handsome, just moments after I stepped out into the public world, buying me a drink, acting like a gentleman.

“I’m Steven,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind me saying, you look absolutely stunning tonight.”

I bit my lip to contain my smile. “Thanks.”

He asked where I was from, and I made some bullshit up about being from out of town. He stared into my eyes as I spoke, though after a while I was beginning to wonder if he was really listening or if he just was on autopilot, waiting to get into my pants.

The more and more I spoke, the more comfortable I got. I was in a rhythm. I was starting to worry I wouldn’t be able to get out of my female voice, it was becoming so natural so fast. He bought me another drink. And then another. I’d never drank before—not more than a sip of my dad’s beer out of curiosity, or a glass of Champaign at a wedding. Now here I was, four drinks deep. And it was hitting me hard. When the shots came around, I was lost completely. I tried to cling onto my sense of control, but I was slipping in and out of conscious presence. The night seemed to jump from moment to moment, with nothing in between.

One moment we were taking a shot. The next we were laughing. Then we were dancing. Then we were doing more shots. Then I was in the girls’ bathroom, a beautiful place (relatively speaking), and then I was dancing again. Then the night became a blur. My senses started to come back to me when I was in the back of a parked car, I couldn’t tell you where or what kind of car. I was overtop of Steven, knees planted firmly at his sides. We were kissing. His face was covered in my smeared lipstick. He kissed my neck and he grabbed my tits. I must have forgotten that I wasn’t a woman, because I let him squeeze my non-existent tits, and he must have been too drunk to notice he was just squeezing a padded bra. But somehow, it felt good—can you believe that? I could still feel ripples of euphoria from his strong hands clenching at my chest.

My hand, with a mind of its own, had undone his belt and his fly, and was now beneath his underwear, fingers wrapped around his cock. He was hard. He was warm. He was big. I fondled him until he couldn’t get any harder, warmer, or bigger. I had him moaning and groaning like a puppet, like I was in total control. Then I realized I was jerking off another man and I stopped, pulling my hand away. It must have shown on my face because he said, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

I remained silent, trying to think of something to say, some sort of out. What was I doing? Was I crazy? All he had to do was reach up my skirt and he would have realized my truth. And how did I know he wouldn’t get enraged, beat me to death, run me over with his car and leave me for dead? “Just relax, baby,” he said, and then he put his hands on my shoulders and started to push me down, down, down. He was strong, much stronger than me. Pushing my head down to his cock was no problem for him, though my drunken body didn’t put up much in the way of resistance.

And there, staring me in the face, was a big, erect cock. And I had the strange impulse to grab it, to suck it, suck it until it came all over my face. I’d never even slept with a woman before and here I was about to get it on with a man. At least he was handsome, I told myself, as if it was any consolation. Somehow it was. I took the cock and slipped it into my mouth. “Oh fuck yeah,” he said and his fingers began to explore the hair on my head that I’d spent so long perfecting.

It wasn’t so bad once I’d gotten started. His cock actually felt pretty good inside of my mouth, pushing against my lips, sliding along my tongue. And he was in a whole other state of ecstasy, which made me feel pretty good about myself. It’s nice to be responsible for another’s pleasure. With long strokes, I massaged the length of his manhood. With every pump, my body relaxed. I ran the tip of my tongue along the base of his shaft—that drove him crazy. Where I learned that move, I have no idea. Maybe from some porno? Maybe it was just a natural instinct—one of the many feminine instincts that were now flowing out of me by the dozen.

I had him hypnotised, lost on another plane of reality. Hell, I could probably get him off without him catching a single glimpse up my skirt, at the package I was hiding between my legs. So that’s what I did. I closed my grip on his cock tighter, pumped harder, faster. I worked the tip of my tongue around the tip of his meat and I watched as he sunk his fingernails into the car seat. I had him right where I wanted him. There was no way he would cut this moment of pleasure off for a second, even if it was just for a moment to quickly transition into my non-existent pussy. I looked up at him.

“You like that, baby—”

Before I could finish my sentence he came, with no warning. His cock blasted my face, a huge load. He released what I can only describe as a groaning battle-cry as an ungodly amount of semen launched out of his dick on my face, onto my top, onto his chest, onto the car seat—everywhere. He must have been five pounds lighter by the end of his orgasm.

I bit my lip, not realizing there was cum there too. It was sweet and warm. He caught his breath. Then I remembered again, I needed to get out of there. This was the definition of being in too deep. “Where are you going?” he asked, prying himself up into a sitting position. I didn’t answer. I needed to get home and fast, before the wave of drunkenness kicked back in and I did something else I would regret—something that wouldn’t end as well as my romp with Steven had ended.

I found myself back in my sister’s bedroom, staring myself in the mirror, cum now dried into my top. Holy shit, I thought to myself, I enjoyed that far too much for my own good. Then, I got into my sister’s bed and I fell asleep.