Easter Givings
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Easter Buddy free porn video
Easter Buddy ? by: Dee Eon
I'd just hung up my choirboy frock after our lively ten a.m. Easter
service when I ran smack into two elderly patrons in their Easter
finery outside the rectory.
"Oh my, that's him, Sophia!" the elder tall spinster said, clapping
her hands. "You're Bobby, yes? Your solo hymn was so heavenly!"
"Thank you," I said, appreciating the compliment to almost flattery.
Thou art not be vain...
The portly woman beamed. "O Mildred, he's perfect!"
"Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes!"
"For what?" I asked.
"Maybe this is a sign from heaven!" Mildred clucked.
"See, our Sunday School's chorus ensemble's holding an Easter recital
in the park but our star singer caught appendix last night!"
"Oh, she's alright, but our program's in a mess!"
"--And since you apparently know most spirituals and hymns, perhaps
we can ask you to play substitute singer."
I bit my lip. "Hun, I dunno..."
"It'll be for the love of god!"
"Yes! You can ask Father Duncan about us."
I pondered. It wasn't like I was shucking the offer. I mean I loved
choir singing, whether it was at a church or a movie soundtrack or even
my eighth-grade's glee club. "Well...if it's a church thing, I guess
it's alright."
They tittered then suddenly looked like they caught each other
forgetting something and they turned sheepish.
"Er, there's just one itty bitty thing," Mildred said.
"Just a--technicality," Sophia added.
"What?" I asked and they glimpsed another.
"You see, our ensemble's...er, all girls."
I blinked aback. "All girls? No guys at all?"
"Well, it's a girls' ensemble!" Sophia chirped.
"Yes, girls only!" added Mildred.
I shook my puzzled head. "So how can I sing for them?"
They looked at another then at me a funny way that made me uneasy.
"Do you believe the disciples suffered and faced hardship spreading the
word of the Lord?" asked Mildred.
"Er, sure. I guess. Why?"
"Because to help us, you will have to be humble and bold to face
embarrassment."
"Yes. You're our last hope, Bobby!"
Boy, this was real encouraging! "What--do you want me to do?"
"It's--really not much different than singing in your choir
regiment," Mildred haltingly issued.
"Just a little lighter and brighter," Sophia added to my bafflement.
"What?"
They held their collective breaths. "We--need you to--to song as one
of the girls."
"You mean sing along with the girls."
"No, Bobby...we--need you to--be one of the girls."
I quizzically frowned. "Uh? What does that mean?" I asked before all
their evasions and shyness sunk in. "What a minute, you don't mean you
want me to--to--pass as a girl??"
Mildred went into her purse and whipped out dollar bills, "We'll pay
you to attend, anything, Bobby!"
It was bizarre. I was as money grubby as any seventh-grade guy, but
somehow on a balmy Easter morning after such a great and rousing
service, seeing those bills flashed for my favor in the service of God
felt--well, cheap. I know it sounds corny, but I guess you had to be
there.
I vehemently shook my head and their looks of hope fell into gloom.
"We--we understand, Bobby," Mildred dolefully sighed.
"It was a wild silly hope anyway," Sophia added as they mustered
pleasant smiles of greeting. "Happy Easter."
They turned away.
"Wait--!" I cried, hopping ahead and wondering if I'd kick myself
later. "I--I don't say no. I meant--I don't want to do it for money,
you know? I like singing for church and choirs because--well, because
people like it, and that feels neat."
Their faces lit like they were reborn and Mildred clapped. "Oh, praise
the Lord! There's hope left in our children after all!!"
"None of the girls will learn you're a boy," Mildred assured to my
misgivings a half-hour later in Sophia's kitchen chair.
"Hope none of them go to my school!" I murmured.
"It won't matter. Not even your own mother will recognize you!" Sophia
said. "I'm a beautician twenty years."
"Still, I'll still look a boy," I contended with deep-seated hope.
Sophia attacked my face with all kinds of creams and powder puffs and
tiny paint brushes. Mildred returned with a large flat flower print box
with pink tissue inside. My eyes cringed.
A girl's dress!
My mind gnashed mental teeth..
"Don't worry, my grand daughter hasn't worn this since I bought it for
her," Mildred said as though it really made a difference to me.
Gee! Am I really doing this??
Mildred smiled as though reading my thoughts. "We can't tell you how
much we appreciate this, Bobby!"
"We'll be in your debt," reavowed Sophia.
"If anyone finds me out, I'll be dead!!" I murmured aloud as Sophia
draped a fluffy wealth of sheeny chestnut curls over my dirty blond
shag and pinned it in place. She turned me to the mirror and I gasped.
Holy cow!...
"Don't fake a girls' voice, Bobby, just speak softer and slower,"
Mildred advised as Sophia drove into the park's parking lot, and I was
skittish as--excuse me--hell, seeing the throngs parading around all
decked out in Easter finery, both glamorous and gaudy.
Sure hope I don't look that bad!
It felt weird saying that, almost as bad as the fact that I didn't feel
all that apprehensive about that point, not since taking a long gawk in
Sophia's mirror. The first was after being groomed, the second after
getting dressed and that was an experience, facing a pretty cousin my
age with big feathery-fringed blue eyes (mine were brown but to assuage
my exposure frets Sophia fetched some blue contact lenses) and fluffy
chestnut tresses roiling over the frilly collar and pouf sleeved
shoulders and mildly mounded bodice of a lilac pastel chiffon dress
with lacy cuffs and a thick shirred waist which bloomed into a fluted
skirt whose eyelet hem hovered just inches over the nicely rounded
knees of her awesome ivory-filmed legs.
Well, they were! And it was a shock; 'her' legs are really MY legs?
So sleek flowing up from eggshell-white Mary Janes with pink and cyan
bows.and high up under her coy gaping hem thanks to undersized sheer
tights squeezing otherwise lumpy knobby legs into slender columns which
you only saw on the few gifted girls who wore skirts or cutoff skirts.
While my legs were a source of surprise and fascination, I wasn't
really all that thrilled at wearing a stuffed training bra, even if
Mildred claimed must twelve-year-old girls were bugging so and that
it'd help fill my dress out better. At least it wasn't all that
prominent, thank goodness.
Mildred gave me a fast drill on walking with a bouncy lope and
gesturing hands like a girl, and they shielded me good before the other
girls who gratefully received me as though I bailed them out of a
selection pool. In turn I was surprised by how invisible my boy-fact
was to them, and my initial frets that some mystically keen fem-sense
might sniff a boy out wafted with relief as we chatted church things
common to guys and girls. The program went on, pretty straightforward
with a parade of song and hymns from churches to Scouts then it was
'my' ensemble's turn.
My skirt-conscious frets returned as I faced several hundred faces and
way too many guys, but the dreaded laughs and snickers of exposure
never erupted, and with relief and the urge to get it all over with I
sang. Thank God my voice hadn't cracked when I had to blast over the
park when the P.A. went out! I bubbly bowed to the applause after my
"Walk With Jesus" solo and Sophia signaled me to follow up my encore
with two more songs before the closing invocation.
My ensemble broke up to join their families at their picnic tablet and
suddenly I was abandoned, with Sophia and Mildred nowhere to be found.
Some people did come up to me before I could hide anywhere.
"I hadn't heard a voice so lovely since Charlotte Church!" Father
Parsons, a minister with a junior high jock in tow complimented me.
"It's so rare to find such a rich high pitch in girls that it's a gift,
and since you won't be losing it anytime soon like choirboys do, I hope
you get good voice training to enrich that gift!"
"Er, yes sir."
"You seem to be alone. Is your family here?"
"Er, no sir. They--work."
"Even Easter? That's too bad. But you're welcome to join us here."
"Er--"
His hands jockied the junior jock's shoulders up front. "This is my
new stepson, Josh."
"Hi!" Josh said, gawking at my piles of makeup, fake hair and eyes
and lollipop colored wrapping, especially my legs.
"Er, hi." I politely greeted.
Josh just kept smiling as Father Parsons led me over to his
congregations table to nibble on fried chicken and guzzle down punch. I
aptly smiled and answered the adults, and after a while the adults drew
into adult chatter and Josh led me off to stroll the park and watch the
Easter egg roll and treasure hunts on the vast lawns.
"So, you sing, huh?" he asked without the cover of adults for once.
"Well, till my voice cracks," I quipped.
"Cracks? I thought only boys' voices crack."
Jeese! Forgot!
Stupid, stupid, stupid!
"Er, no, not the same way," I twittered. "When your voice cracks as a
girl it's different than a boys'. I mean, I've been singing so long
since I was eight that I've been straining it so much it kinda cracks a
little sometimes, you know?"
"I--guess..."
"Er, do you sing?"
"Me? Naw. I like to hear good music and songs, but I can't sing high
like a bird like you do!"
My face warmed pink. "Uh, thank you. Believe me, it took lots of
practice, like riding a bike."
"Oh, yea, you wanna see something cool? I just got a twenty speed
Mitsitha!"
My jaw fell. "Kidding!"
"No, I'll show you!" he said, leading me over to the crammed bike
stands where he showed me a cool English racer.
"Wow!"
I stooped to check out the derailers and cool rear brakes and I sensed
him staring at my stooping knees peeking from my skirt. Blushing, I
rose, even as I wondered why as a boy I had to.
"You're really into bikes, huh?" Josh asked.
"Sure! I love messing with them and stuff."
"Can I ride?"
"Sure!" Josh said, and suddenly I immediately saw why girls' bikes
didn't have high center bars as I perched the saddle straight by
throwing my skirt fully over the seat before my butt but its front
draped high over the bar, hitching my hem almost to my hips while the
back part of my skirt fell at my sides, breezily exposing lots of skin
up to my upper-thighs, and even though I was wearing tights instead of
underpants I felt eerily abashed.
"Maybe if you sat on the seat with your dress draped over it first,"
Josh suggested like a gent.
"Er, oh, yeah," I sheepishly said, getting off then gathering my skirt
to sit on the seat so that my now undivided skirt now at least kept
anything above the knees hidden.
"Well, guess that'll have to do," I chuckled, anxiously setting out to
ride to change topic and attention, especially since there were several
junior jocks at the picnic tables amused by my antics.
Anyway, I rode like a dream, as once I surrender the bike to him I was
a green as a toad. "Man, this bike's so cool! I gotta get one too!"
"I gotta catalog home. Wanna see it?"
"Sure!"
"Great," he said, mounting his bike and chuckling if tickled jittery
by obliging me. "Man, I hope I don't bring back my Cox catalog by
mistake!"
"Cox? Mean slot cars?"
"Yea. I got a new set that blows others away."
"Which one?"
"Er, the Kendall X-3."
"The X-3??" I blurted, shaking my head. "You lucky dog!! I only got the
Canaveral 202. I burn out my motors if I get in a hairpin stall for
only five seconds!"
"Yea, the transformer sucks--so, you're into slots too?"
"I love them! If I could afford it I'd junk mine!"
He smiled then shyly asked. "Oh...so, wanna see it?"
"Your slots? Sure!"
"Al right!" he beamed, holding himself steady and stretching one arm
aside like an open car door, and for a moment I was puzzled before I
realized what he was doing. I blushed, a little jittery, but I didn't
want to offend him and I _was_ intrigued by what he had at home, so
gnashed my lip and gathered my skirt and skittishly perched the center
bar sidesaddle and his arms straddled me like a gate as he gripped the
handlebars and shoved off.
After the first minute I had faith that he wasn't going to let me
topple over backward and we circled the block.
He slowed up to wave at some friends which momentarily terrified me, in
fact he seemed to have lots of friends to wave to on the way, and I
turned to see his face rushed by my breezed flagging tresses, smiling
at me a funny pleased way. For a few moments I felt a weird warm swell
of delight and teasing that suddenly wafted as I was self-conscious of
how I seemed and sheepishly tried to draw my wig's wild locks down
under my bonnet's floppy brim.
"Sorry."
"No, I like it. Feels so soft," Josh said, smiling at me like he meant
it so I let my hair fly as he pedaled exhilarating fast.
We finally reached his nice splitlevel house and he took me down his
finished basement where there was a humogenous slot car set.
"Wow!!"
Josh grinned. "You like it?"
"It's awesome!" I exclaimed and he handed me a throttle and we raced,
yelling and squealing our little cars on around the electric course. I
won three races then we took a break for our cars to cool off for the
next race, in the meanwhile we went up the kitchen for an orange soda
and a microwave pizza.
"You're neat, Bobbie. Not too many guys beat me at my own game."
"All in the wrist action!" I joked, twisting it if controlling a
throttle.
"Oh, let me get the catalog!"
We went up his bedroom which was neat because he had a bed with a
Formula-One racing frame. "Boy, you got everything!" I swore, perching
the side of the bed, wishing. He sighed.
"Almost."
"Josh??" a woman's voice called from the door.
"Oh, hi mom," Josh said suddenly sheepish as his mom eyed my sudden
rise off the bed. "Mom, this is Bobbie. She's with the girls' chorus,
and you ought hear her sing!"
"I can imagine. Hello, Bobbie."
"Hello, ma'am," I said, suddenly being knocked aware of my appearance
and pose since leaving the part. "Josh's getting a catalog for me. He's
a really great guy. I wish I'd a real friend like him!"
The corner of my eye glimpsed Josh's sudden start of surprise while his
mother dawned a genuine smile. "You would, would you? Well, Josh, seems
like you've made an impression."
"Er, yea--oh, here it is!" Josh said, hastily flagging the bike catalog
as he handed it to me. "She likes bikes--and slot cars too!"
"My, how coincidental!" she said, eying me funny as though I were
somehow being sneaky. "I have a feeling what Bobbie wants, Bobbie gets.
Well, pleased to meet you, Bobbie."
"Ma'am," I said and she stepped out but not before throwing a Josh a
scolding look. Josh blew a sigh and grabbed my hand and towed me out
and to his backyard, which was kind of sissy but I let him anyway.
"What's wrong?"
"Aw forget it."
"Why was she angry with you like that?" I prodded.
"I don't know. I had friends upstairs, but she never chilled to them
like that! Maybe 'cause...of something," he demurred a little
sheepishly and for a moment I felt oddly flattered. I perched his
center bar and he rode me back towards the park, and on our way he gave
me a tour and I noticed how proud his face looked riding me around and
waving to his friends, and somehow I remembered what I looked like to
him and his friends; A pretty girl in curls and lacy girlness being
ridden around his bike.
We got to the park as the festivities were drawing to a close along
with the sun and Josh found us a tree to sit under and chat about our
games and favorite things. It was a miracle that I didn't utter a
gender reference or verb regarding myself because our rapport was so
unisex that I was simply being myself, utterly forgetting my pose as we
joked and commented and debated baseball teams and race cars. Only when
we looked up as a high school couple strolled by, arms around waists,
was our banter interrupted and Josh turned to me and looked almost
wistful.
Suddenly I felt aware of my appearance, my sleek-looking welded legs
half-cranked under my full skirt in that cute romantic way girls did in
old movies. If I looked as nice here as I did in the mirror then I was
sure that Josh must've been thinking of me in ways not too flattering
for a guy.
"Gee..." he softly said if a long nerved-up confession. "You're
pretty, Bobbie."
I stifled my flattered surprise under a blush. "Naw..."
"Well, you are. Don't just ask me, you saw how my friends smiled at you
when we rode by. You're pretty...and that's why mom was angry, because
you were the first girl to ever be in my room."
"Why should that bother her??"
He shyly chuckled aside. "Come-on, you know why."
I thought it out and I was embarrassed, and it wasn't even just my boy
instincts. "Gee, Josh, what was she expecting to happen, huh?"
He shrugged. "Well...you did say that...I was your friend."
"Yea, so?"
"Well, I--I never had a girl call me that, not for real, and not a
pretty one like you."
"Stop calling me that! Making me feel a sissy!"
"Sissy??" he said and I hastily remembered myself.
"I mean--there's more to being a girl than being pretty, Josh. You
shouldn't even look at me as a girl. Just--friends, you know?"
"How can I not see you as a girl--and a pretty one too?" he asked, a
mite disappointed.
"Well, you wouldn't think so if you saw me looking like--like a tomboy
like I regularly do."
"You'd still be pretty."
"Josh, stop that, will ya??"
"I can't help it, Bobbie! We're just another! We like the same stuff
and fun and the same comic books and racing."
"I know," I said with a sigh. "You'd make a great friend."
"Bobbie!!" I heard Mildred cry and wave. "Time to leave!!"
It was already twilight, and I hadn't even noticed!
I faced Josh and in his eyes saw echoes of the dismay in my chest.
"Bobbie--" he gushed, "where do you live? We could see another!"
I pounced on it, "I--" then seized my reckless impulse, surprised by my
anxiousness to please and maybe skittish of something deeper. "I?I
don't think we should, Josh," I glumly said.
"Why not??" he asked, and the pain in his eyes that made me feel like I
did a faux pas on his poor ego.
"I--I mean that...that I live too far away to visit."
"How far?"
"Er, out of town?"
"Aw, man!" he groaned, almost making me feel worst. "The best girl I
ever knew and you're going away!"
"Yoo hoo, Bobbie!!" cried Sophia.
"Coming!" I called, flouncing to my feet. I really didn't want to lose
Josh as a friend, not someone this alike. Maybe if I told him who I
really am it'd be alright. After all, I'd a reasonable excuse for
looking like this, I mean it wasn't like it was all my idea and I was
some closet sissy. Mildred and Sophia could tell him. He'd understand.
"Josh...er, I--I have to say something that you might not like..."
"Yes?" he asked, those eyes looking at me with a reverence I didn't
deserve and suddenly I knew I couldn't smash his naivete with my truth.
He was showing and treating me a side of him reserved only for a
Bobbie, not a Bobby and even if he accepted my truth it wouldn't be the
same. He mustn't ever know Bobbie's truth, but does that mean we still
can't be friends somehow??
Think! Think! THINK!!
"You don't have to say it," he glumly mumbled.
"Say what?"
"That you'll write or something, right?"
"I was about to say a way we could--er, kinda meet."
"What do you mean, 'kinda'?"
"Uh...look. Josh, I...I've got a cousin who lives here. He's a lot like
me. In fact, we grew up together! Real close together. Even closer than
brother and sister."
"Aw..."
"Why don't you see him? It'd be just like seeing me--except he looks
a little different of course."
"Aw, he'll never be like you."
"He's exactly like me, Josh. Just go meet him!"
"I--I don't know if I can do that. I mean, you're a girl and he's a
guy--"
Then I did an awesome impulsive thing; I grasped his hands and pecked
his cheek. It was a wild impulse gathered from what would've moved me
so, and I couldn't think of anything than the mushy kiss of a girl to
persuade me. He blushed.
"Wow!"
"Josh, promise me you'll see him, okay?"
"Uh...I--"
"Promise me, Josh!" I stressed and sighed and nodded.
"I--I guess. What's his name?"
"Bobby--" I bit my lip too late. "Er, spelled B-O-B-B-Y like a boy's
name, not B-O-B-B-I-E like mine. Our--parents thought we looked so
alike, you know??"
"Can't be that alike."
"Oh, you'd be surprised."
"BOBBIE!!"
"Coming!! Look, I got to go, Josh, but I'll be calling my cousin to
see if you two met, understand?"
"Sure..."
"Josh, don't make me come back here and beat you up if you don't!" I
threatened his surprise.
"Okay, okay! Don't get your panties in an uproar! Geesh! Can I just
do one thing you might get mad at?"
"Like what?"
"Like--" and he leaned front and pecked my cheek. "For being a pretty
girl instead of a tomboy threatening me!"
I chuckled and suddenly a crazy notion flitted me. I mean really crazy
and I wasn't quite sure why should damn myself mentioning it. "Er,
Josh, there's just one thing..." I almost sorrowfully said. "My cousin
is--see, he's--er, kinda...kinda--gay, you know?"
"Gay?"
"Oh, he doesn't do anything, but I just want you to know in case."
"In case what?"
"Er, in case--in case you want to--to thank him the same way you
thanked me, you know?"
He smirked. "Bobbie, I'm not gonna kiss a guy!"
"Er, I know that! I'm just saying that--that he wouldn't mind it,
that's all. I mean, he's growing out of it, but he's still a very nice
guy. You could help him lose those feelings while having fun, you
know?"
"Me??"
"You're a very nice and considerate macho jock, Josh. You can help my
cousin to be a man like you--just like you make me feel like a real
lady." And I punctuated it with another peck on the cheek and soulful
eyes. "Just make friends with him. Please?..."
Josh chuckled between misgivings and obliging. "Well, if it means
that much to you...sure, I'll try. But if he looks any like you, I
can't promise how good I'd be!" he jested and I pressed his hand.
"Just act like he's me and you'll be fine, Josh. Good-luck. Bye!" I
skipped off, blowing him a kiss as I flounced back to Mildred and
Sophia while wondering if I'd gone plum insane.
* * * * * *
I opened the front door and Josh's jaw dropped. "What???"
"You must be Josh!" I coyly drawled almost like Bobbie. "Yea, Bobbie
called and told me all about you, dude!"
"She did??"
"Yea, I almost feel like I ready know you, dude! She's nice, uh?"
"Man, I'll say!!" he blurted a misdirected way, taking stock of me in
my tennis shoes and cut-off shorts and tank top and dirty blonde locks
brushed to a cute flip. I must've looked as fairy as hell as you could
without makeup or real girls' stuff, but I didn't want my looks or
mannerisms to overdo seeming as comfortably familiar as Bobbie to him
as I dared. Josh thought he was on a rescue mission to salvage my
boyhood, and as our friendship matured and masculized I could shuck
this fairy tomboy act like a worn shoe as a real buddy instead of an
Easter bunny.
"Man! Bobbie wasn't kidding! Except for your eyes and hair and
freckles, you're almost exactly like her!"
"Well, not all of me, dude!" I chuckled and leaned to peck his cheek
and he looked startled and a little nonplused. "That's how Frenchmen
greet another!" I teased almost like Bobbie did. "Don't be afraid to do
touchy feelly stuff like that if it moves you, okay?"
Josh looked at me funny and for a few moments I dreaded that he saw too
much Bobbie in me then he chuckled with funny private irony. "Well, if
you keep it up, I'm not gonna be able to keep a promise!..."
END...
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