CHAPTER 29
"You are Michael."
It was the last thing Kate Draffen had said to me as I was leaving. It
was cheap shot, something to get riled up. Or was it? He seemed to
believe that the only thing that had changed about him was his body and
that might have been true. But I felt myself changing, I wasn't the
same person I was 4 short weeks ago. I was more confident, more
compassionate and a lot more mature. Those weren't symptoms of SGR,
those were due to personal growth. Gemma was more than just a silly
girl's name to me, it stood for all I had achieved.
"No, I am Gemma," I muttered under my breath as I marched into my hotel
room.
I didn't have any time to worry about the ramblings of a crazy person.
There was a decadent party tonight to celebrate Gemma Taylor.
There were no parties for Michael Taylor. And certainly no parties for
Kate Draffen.
While not in a blind rage I was blind with a flury of other emotions. I
picked up my phone and scrolled down my list of contacts. "Hey," said
the voice.
"Hi," I said a little frazzled, happy to reach a friend.
"You've called 1-900 Dot Lovin', Australia's premiere phone line for
hot Dot on Dot action. Unfortunately, all Dots are unavailable at this
present moment, so leave your name and number and we'll call you back,
sexy," Dot's pre-recorded voice told me, "And don't forget to go to our
website W-W-W-dot-Dot-dot-com-dot-A-U. So long suckers!" There was a
familiar beep and I hung up. I thought about calling someone else to
talk to like Glen or Alana but decided against it.
Instead I sat down at the desk in the lounge room. If I had a laptop I
would have put it there but I didn't. There was a pad with the hotel's
logo atop of each page. Compelled to spill my overflowing thoughts
somewhere I started writing. What came out of me ended up being a
letter, a letter to Draffen. After a few crumpled efforts lay at my
feet, I finally came up with the perfect written version of my
thoughts. I wasn't sure how I would give it to him but it was important
he read it. I stood up, triumphant.
When we were at the photo shoot Jane had asked if I was planning on
wearing any of the nice dresses she had provided to the party. I told
her honestly that I wasn't a dress person but I would make sure I
looked 'nice' for the party. This party was more about promoting the
fact Dolly magazine has me for a columnist than celebrating it. So, I
was expected to be there and I was expected to get dressed up. So much
so that Andre the make-up artiste was coming around to the hotel to
help me achieve perfection.
As exciting a celeb filled party for me was, I couldn't get Kate
Draffen's voice out of my head. "He was wrong," I told myself, "I was a
guy but I'm not anymore, even if I wanted to be." I hurled open the
wardrobe and gazed at the outfits I could wear to the party. "I'll
prove you wrong," I told Kate Draffen who obviously couldn't hear me.
Not only was I going to wear a dress, I was going to look great in it!
I showered to get the pong of Kate Draffen off me. The bad vibes clung
to me body as if they were made of chewing gum. 'How could he call me
Michael?' I thought, 'He saw the same body as I did.' It was definitely
a girl's body, it went in at the waist and out at the hips, it had
smooth, hairless legs and nestled between them was its vagina. I rubbed
it gently, not in a sexual way just to reassure myself it was real. I
soaped myself up extra thorough, hoping that I could clean the whole
experience away. I shampooed my blonde hair, it was getting a little
longer. Even though my haircut was never especially 'male' I was glad I
was getting into feminine territory, anything to keep those critics
silent.
The hotels towels were so soft I seriously considered jamming them all
into my bag before I left. It was like drying yourself with a cloud. It
felt so nice on my smooth skin. I looked in the mirror. My face was so
smooth, it's so amazing that I had totally forgot that I used to shave
it everyday. Hairs would spend all day growing out of it and then every
morning I would drag a blade over it to cut the hairs, repeat the
process everyday. I hadn't even thought about how much life was easier
now that I didn't have to do it. Sure my legs and underarms got a bit
of a shaving but it wasn't that annoying and it wasn't that often.
I grabbed the pair of panties I had planned on wearing. That's how I
know I am a real girl; I wear panties not underpants. They were white
with a nice lime green trim and were forged from just nice plain
cotton. The main worry about wearing a dress was the risk of people
seeing my pretty little underpants, so I had to make sure they were at
least nice, and not too slutty. I love how smooth everything was as a
girl. There was nothing I had to adjust to get to sit right down there.
Any adjusting would be for my pleasure only, and there was no time for
that. I was even good enough at putting on a bra that the adjustment
was minimal, the girls sat in there quite well.
The dress I had picked seemed the most fun. It sat quietly of the rack
with the other dresses, pleading with me to pick it. I almost heard it
cheer as I brought it to the bathroom with me, I like the idea that the
dress was excited for me to wear it; it made me a lot less scared. It
was yellow, bright yellow, with a big black belt to go around my tiny
wait. I wanted to encompass the fun, optimism and hopeful spirit Jane,
my editor was speaking about. I held the dress in front of me at full
arm's length. I was going to look cute in it, there was no getting
around it. I slowly fumbled with the zip and stepped into it. I eased
it up wiggling my hips and slipped my arms through the arm holes.
I would have to wait for Andre the make-up artiste to get here to zip
me up, but I had a good idea of what it would look like; I was going to
be cute. More of the 'I want you to tickle me' look than the 'I want to
suck your cock' look. The dress was a little short, maybe 2 or 3
centimetres shorter than my school dress and it flared out more. If I
spun around too fast people would see my panties, at least they were
cute panties. It was a scary thought to know that there was a
likelihood that people were going to see my panties tonight and there
wasn't much I could do about it, save for trying not to spin around
much. I would have to remember to keep my legs as closed as possible.
There was a sharp rap at the door and I ran over to open it. "Hey
kiddo!" said Tyler, as jovial as usual, "Wow! You look really..." he
paused for a moment, probably running through his mind trying to find
the adjective least likely for me to think he is sexually attracted to
me. "...sexy!" He failed miserably.
I curtseyed (there's a first time for everything), "Thanks man. Can you
zip me up?" He obliged and I imagined him gently sniffing my hair as he
did so. As the zip climbed my body the dress was forced to cling to my
body tighter, only enhancing what Tyler must have found so sexy. All it
was going to take was a few choice moves from me and I would have Tyler
kissing me before the night is over. I smoothed out the dress along my
body, "So what brings you up to my loft, Mr P?"
"Just wanted to see if you were ok. Dr. Chisholm said that the meeting
probably didn't go to plan."
"No, it's fine," I didn't want to talk about that, especially with
Tyler, "We just have very different views on what happened to us."
"Do you want to talk about it?" he said sitting down on one of my
couches, ready for a serious talk.
"No, but I have something much important I need you to do."
"What's that?" he said.
"Help me put on this necklace," I chirped, breaking the serious mood in
the room, "The clasp is too finicky." I liked the word 'finicky', Dot
taught me it.
"Come here," he told me and for the second time in my female life I sat
on a man's lap, neither of them Santa. This time I knew precisely what
I was doing. I wriggled a little bit on his lap, giving him a covert
lap-dance. He slowly attached the necklace around my neck, I could feel
his warm breath delightfully close. I was doing the best I could to
turn him on. "All done," he said once his job was over but I didn't get
off him right away. There was something deeply erotic about me sitting
obediently on his lap.
"Thanks," I squeaked in a little voice that also seemed to say, "Kiss
me, big boy."
"So, ready for a big night?" Tyler asked me as I got off him.
"I guess so. But who is invited?"
"Soap stars, pop stars, anyone who attract media attention and was
willing to come. Dolly is in the Gemma Taylor business and they want to
make a big deal about you."
"That sounds a little scary. As much as I like attention this might be
a little too much. Can you stick around me and make sure I don't get
overwhelmed?" My voice sounded so much tinier when I was asking for
help. I sounded like a sparrow chirping for food or a door squeaking.
Tyler sweetly nodded, there was more in his eyes than professionalism.
I couldn't tell if it was friendship shining through or something more
but I was destined to find out before the end of the night. "Thanks," I
whispered, the sound of my voice struggling to fly through the air
filled with sexual tension.
"Hellllooo?" sang a voice and all the tension went clunking to the
floor. Tyler blinked as if the sound had set him free from my spell. He
looked at the door.
"That would be Andre, he's here to do my make-up," I explained, wishing
that he wasn't so punctual.
"Oh OK. How are you getting to the party?" Tyler asked, "Do you know if
Dolly has organized a car or something?" That I did know the answer to.
"Ummm... yeah," I said coyly, "There's a limo coming in like 45
minutes. You can come if you want? Save you driving there yourself." I
tried to hide the festering excitement but in hindsight I probably
looked totally goofy. The limo was one of the most exciting parts of
the trip, I knew it was slightly clich? to arrive at a party in a limo
and that limos are more likely to contain 6 high school kids with $30
each rather than celebrities but I was excited because I had never been
in one before. I sauntered to the door as Tyler said he would love to
join me. I smiled inwardly as I opened the door.
"Hi darling," Andre said, an enormous make-up case in one hand. He
kissed me on the cheek and I decided that didn't count as my kiss
tonight, I could do a lot better. "You look amazing," he fawned over my
dress, "It's so fun and flirty. Did the nice man over there help you
pick it out? Hi Tyler."
"Hi Andre," Tyler said, somewhat wearily.
"No," I exclaimed proudly, "I picked it all by myself." I did a twirl.
Andre clapped his hands in appreciation. "Well done! Let's get you in
the bathroom and inch you ever so closer to perfection, hon!" He
sashayed into my bedroom then bathroom and I followed. Tyler gave me a
'Good luck' kind of shrug and remained seated. Before I had even
reached the bathroom Andre had set up shop. His make-up case was
organized in military-style efficiency. "Sit," he instructed and I
complied. While I wasn't girly enough to care much about make-up, other
than a device to make me appear girlier, I had to admire Andre's work.
"It's such a cute dress," he reiterated, "And you wear it so well.
Purse your lips for me please, lovey. You're going to have everyone
staring at you. And that's not a push-up bra or anything like that is
it?" Andre stared into my cleavage as if someone had fallen down there.
"Nope, it's all me," I replied.
"Well, aren't you lucky. Those are a real find, sweetheart, to have a
pair so perfectly formed as those. Big, perfectly round and obscenely
perky, you could make a fortune off those alone. But your other best
feature is your enchanting smile; it's oh so slightly crooked and so
damn sweet. It makes you look like a grown-up and very sexy Shirley
Temple. All we would have to do is put your hair in ringlets and dress
you in a sailor suit." Andre was probably taking things a little too
far.
"So, I read in the paper that you're attracted to the boys now?" he
asked me.
"Yeah," I admitted, "Boys are kinda interesting to me."
"Me too," said Andre, removing all doubt.
Andre's hands expertly teased my hair into an attractive style. "So, my
heterosexual friend, what do you think of your friend Tyler? I find him
totally irresistible."
"I haven't noticed," I lied.
"Well, at the photo shoot, he did nothing but notice you. I'd watch him
if I was you." Andre had meant it as a warning but I took it as
exciting news.
"OK, I will. Are you coming to my party tonight?" I asked Andre as he
made the finishing touches.
"Would love to, sweetheart, but I have a previous engagement," he took
a step back to admire his handy work, "There you go, perfection
achieved!"
"Thanks for your great work!" I smiled, he was really quite good.
"Thank you for being a great canvas! It just goes to show it takes a
man to be a really great girl." Andre laughed heartily at his own joke
and packed up his case. I couldn't help but notice that his movements
were more feminine than mine, and I had practiced in the privacy of my
bedroom. I almost asked him for some pointers but at the last second
chickened out, maybe he didn't know he was so feminine.
The city buzzed with the excitement of people heading out and the
relief of people heading home. The day was limping over the finish line
and the night was limbering up for its leg of the race. My yellow dress
came crashing out of the hotel lobby doors and onto the street. I
laughed merrily as Tyler held open the door of the limo that had come
to pick me up.
I know by definition that limos are luxury cars, but it's not until you
get inside one that you truly know why. "Wow," I gasped as I clambered
inside. It was clearly nicer and classier than Mum's beaten up Toyota,
my usual mode of transport. Plus there was a distinct lack of Beach Boy
music, another sign of being in Mum's car. I sat in the middle of the
seat and surveyed my cabin. I know limos more often than not contained
high school kids or newlyweds but I couldn't help but feel like a
massive celebrity. Tyler climbed in as well and sat delightfully close
to me. I drank in his manly musk and my nipples responded. I liked my
nipples getting hard, it felt nice.
"This is the only way to travel," I sighed as Tyler poured me a glass
of champagne. I was still only 17, so I probably wasn't allowed to
drink at the big party, being underage and all. But that wasn't going
to stop me from enjoying myself on the way there. I gulped, rather than
simply sipping because I wasn't sure how much time I would be able to
drink. I wanted enough to become cheery, chatty Gemma. There was a lot
of pressure on me to be charming tonight.
"Whoa! You're a thirsty girl!" exclaimed Tyler. I explained my problem
and he said that I probably wouldn't be allowed to drink there. "Too
many cameras," he said, "We can't be seen serving a minor alcohol, even
if she is a total party animal!" I sucked back another glass of
champagne, feeling the bubbles travel up to my head. I could feel
Chatty, Flirty Gemma awaken and come to the forefront.
"This is gunna be so much fun!" I chirped, adjusting my dress like a 5-
year-old flower girl, "Just promise me you're not going to leave me." I
ruffled my hand through his hair.
"I'm not going anywhere. Do you need me to follow you into the
toilets?"
"No, I'll be fine in there, thank you very much, Mr. Perry."
Tyler grabbed my hand, telling me, "Stop fiddling with the dress
already! You look great! Better than great! You are going to knock
every professional model slash actress slash pop star out of the water
tonight. I'm not lying when I say that you'll be the most beautiful
girl there tonight," he gently cupped my face in his hand, "Don't
panic, pretty girl." It was definitely the perfect conditions for a
kiss again. It was almost identical to the almost kiss of the night
before. I closed my eyes again, waiting for the kiss. Suddenly I felt
something - the car came to a stop. Damn it!
"You ready?" asked Tyler as the limo driver came around to the door.
"I guess so," I sighed, still kissless.
Tyler thrust something at me, "Take this."
I looked the object now in my hand. It was a Sharpie felt tip pen. I
looked at him with an air of confusion. "Autographs," he explained. The
limo door opened up and Tyler stepped out, onto a red carpet! An actual
factual red carpet! He held out his hand and helped me out of the car.
I swung my legs out and daintily put my feet on the ground. I never
felt my life would have a real Cinderella moment and if it did I truly
thought I would be Prince Charming and not Cinderella herself. I
stepped out of the car, steadied myself on my heels and smiled.
There were lines of fans and supporters down one side of the red carpet
and reporters on the other side. I was temporarily blinded by the
flashes of a thousand cameras. The way the people cheered I had to make
sure there wasn't someone famous behind me. I meekly waved, before the
thrill of it all began to seep in. I posed for the cameras. Nicole had
taught me some move before I got on the plane. I posed with my back to
me and turning and smiling, hands on my hips as if I'm proud of my
butt. Then I spun around and tried to make my legs look good. Dolly
Magazine had spent a lot of money on me I was just trying to give them
their money's worth. I was soon lured away to what I guess would be
called my 'fans', although what they have to be fanatical about is
another question.
"You look so pretty!" gushed a woman who must be in her mid-twenties
and much too old to read Dolly. I thanked her and signed her diary. I
shook hands, waved to the crowd and signed my name until my fingers
went numb. It was weird having fans and I was unsure exactly what they
are fans of. I had to enjoy the immense feeling of being loved by a
huge group of people though. The smiles and eyes of everyone in the
crowd screamed they loved me. Except maybe the picketers.
It made sense that not everyone loved me. The proclamation that the
country's most gender confused teenage girl was writing an advice
column for teenage girls was bound to ruffle a few feathers. The ultra
religious who thought I was affront to God were right out front,
bravely protesting. They weren't great in numbers nor were they
impressive. The glumly held up cheap looking banners and made a small
amount of noise about me not being natural. If they had their way I
would have been burnt at the stake so that there would be no chance of
spreading my horrible gender wrecking nanobots to every God-fearing
person in the country. I locked eyes with a few of them, mainly to
prove that I wasn't Satan, but I was a young, vulnerable teenage girl.
It was weird being on a red carpet, one of the most public places in
the world and have the paparazzi keep their distance. Normally they
would be as close to me as they could get, falling over each other to
be the first to catch a glimpse of Gemma Taylor's new tan line, but
thanks to the formality of a red carpet event they were trapped behind
the velvet rope. Wearing the dress made me feel a little insecure, if I
stepped in the wrong direction the whole crowd would get a view of my
pretty undergarments. I kept my legs together and a lot of the time my
little hands held the dress anxiously.
I slowly made my way up the carpet, giving high-fives, signing
autographs, answering the press's questions and meeting other
celebrities. Of course, this party wasn't the biggest in Sydney so the
grade of celebrity wasn't the top. No Elle Macpherson and Hugh Jackman,
more like Libby from 'Neighbours' and some really cute guy from some
manufactured band. Tyler kept his distance but was never too far away.
I'd often give him nervous glances and he'd smile back. He was such a
great help. I finally made it all the way down the carpet to the
entrance. Even though I had only travelled 30 meters or so it had taken
me 25 minutes. "Ready for the party?" Tyler leaned in and asked me.
"You mean there's more?" I asked incredulously. I wouldn't have been
surprised that through the doors was nothing at all and we'd go home.
"The night is young, kiddo."
We went into the lobby and were escorted to the lift. "Hello Gemma,"
said one of our lift companions.
"Hi," I squeaked out.
"Pleasure to finally meet you," the woman held out her long elegant
hand to shake and I did the same. "Victoria Cross," she introduced
herself, "and this," she gestured to a tall, good looking older
gentleman that she had dragged along, "Is my partner, Geoffrey."
"Victoria is probably Australia's best evening wear designer," Tyler
explained.
"Oh, aren't you sweet!" she exclaimed dryly in her husky voice. Her
voice reminded me of expensive cheese and wine. "Don't let Mr. Perry's
lies lead you astray, Gemma dear. I do well for myself but I'm not this
country's greatest." She waved her hands elegantly around as she
talked, like bower branches in the wind.
"I'm sure you're very good, Victoria," I didn't really know if that was
the right thing to say.
"Coming from someone looking so beautiful in one of my dresses, that's
quite a compliment," she smiled.
There was a slight moment where I didn't know what in the world she was
talking about, and then it dawned on me. "You made this?" I gestured to
the preppy yellow dress that my curvy little body was packaged in.
"Well, I may have designed it but believe me, you yourself make that
dress," Victoria wryly said. The lift finished its journey and dinged
proudly to alert us to the fact.
"Thank you so much, Victoria," I liked saying Victoria's name, it made
me feel elegant too, "I really love the dress."
"And it loves you," it seemed impossible for Victoria to say something
uncool. If smoking wasn't punishable by death in Sydney I'm sure she
would walk around making her quips while holding one of those long
cigarette holders from the 30's. She would have looked amazing with the
swirl of cigarette smoke wrapped around her body. Her voice certainly
sounded like she enjoyed the occasional cigarette.
The doors opened but we didn't get out of the lift. "I understand you
are making your Debut."
"Yes, I'm doing my Debutante Ball for my Mum because she wasn't able to
do hers," I explained.
"How nice of you!" She produced her business card seemingly from thin
air, "Look I would absolutely be thrilled to design your Debutante
dress, if you would like."
"Thanks," I said taking her card just to make sure it was real, "But
I'm wearing a Mum Taylor original."
"Of course you are, dear," she didn't sound hurt in the slightest, "You
sound like a terrific daughter. If you need a dress for any other
occasion you remember me, OK? It would be my pleasure, pro bono, of
course. You have a great night tonight, Gemma darling. It's all yours."
Victoria and Geoffrey stepped off the lift into the swirling sea of
people.
Tyler and I followed suit leaping into the mass of people. The ballroom
was decorated lavishly with tall spires of balloons that reached the
roof. The DJ in the corner blasted out some dance music while the
beautiful people danced. There were large poster-sized pictures of me
around the place. Pictures of me squealing while holding a armful of
puppies, doing handstands at the beach, drawing a smiley face in the
sand and posing coyly in a sundress. The photos were only taken the day
before, so it was weird seeing them hung on walls like works of art.
"Dolly Magazine welcome Gemma Taylor" proclaimed the huge banner that
took up most of the length of the room. Standing at the exit were
cheery hosts, handing out 'goodie bags'. It seemed much too lavish for
a girl who was wearing high heels for the second time in her entire
life.
Now when a pretty girl walks into a room she gets noticed, that's one
thing I've learnt since becoming one. When she is the guest of honour
the attention is tripled.
"Welcome Gemma!"
"You look so gorgeous!"
"You're so brave!"
"Even prettier in person!"
"Looking forward to reading your work!"\
My head was awash with positive comments from positive strangers. I
smiled hard, said quiet little thank-yous to everyone and tried to find
somewhere to hide. "Gemma!" called out a voice.
I never thought I would be happy to see Annette.
I walked as quickly as I could over to her, the sound of my heels
clacking on the floor. It still astounded me I was in a dress and
heels, flaunting my shapely legs and my generous boobs. Actually it
still astounded me that I had shapely legs and generous boobs at all!
The crowd let me through, as if I was Moses and they were the Red Sea.
"Hi Annette!" I said more warmly than usual.
She was looking a little more glamorous than usual, she wore a black
pencil skirt and a pale red blouse, her mousy brown hair dripping down
the back of her head. She wasn't even wearing her glasses, perhaps she
had contacts in. "Good to see you," Annette said.
"You too," I said honestly.
"How was your little meeting today?" she said it quietly as if
revealing Gemma Taylor had met John Draffen would make the entire party
stop so that everyone could hear.
"He's scary," I told Annette, getting a little worked up at the thought
of it, "He isn't right."
"I warned you that meeting him might be a little traumatising," Annette
furrowed her brow, as if she was upset that she let me go in the first
place.
"He kept calling me Michael, I told him to stop but he wouldn't," I was
upsetting myself just talking about it. It wasn't as if he touched me,
he was just calling me a hurtful name, my old one.
"John knew not to do that. I told him that you were coping really well,
Gemma. He was just trying to get under your skin. He's probably jealous
of your success." I had heard the 'bullies call you names because they
are jealous of you' excuse a lot in my life and never quite believed
it. Bullies never had anything thing to envy with Michael but I sort of
believed it about John, he wanted exactly what I had, either my body or
my acceptance of my body. "See, Gemma, he's lost so much and with his
attitude he's bound to lose a lot more. He sees you actually enjoying
yourself and wonders what is wrong with you, when he should be
wondering what is wrong with him."
Members of the crowd would look at me in awe, 'There she is' they
thought, but they would never invade on my private conversations, which
was good as I had some important business with Annette. "Why doesn't he
have a sex change operation? Or take hormones or something if he hates
being a guy so much?" When I first changed Annette floated these ideas
to me, but I couldn't fool myself that the process would make me feel
any better. Annette showed me pictures of the procedures they would
have to do, scooping out my breasts and turning my labia into a
scrotum, I wouldn't be able to be Michael as I knew him. I decided to
try being Gemma first. John however was clearly not happy being John.
"John thinks if he takes hormones then when a cure is found it wont
work on him. It's just more of his elaborate conspiracy theories he
likes making up. I hope he didn't get your hopes up of a cure, we've
been through this." One thing Annette had said a lot during our first
meeting was there was little chance a miraculous cure would emerge, it
didn't make me happy at the time but at least my heart wasn't set on
being Michael again.
"He's not going to be OK, is he? I saw all the cuts on his arms." The
thought that life was so bad that I needed a way out had only crossed
my mind for the briefest of moments, but it seemed such a selfish thing
to do.
Annette put her hand on my shoulder. The fact that my 'gender advisor'
was so less 'womanly' than me always made me laugh, her breasts were
the size of two conveniently placed mosquito bites. "It's hard to say.
I think he's been very strong to last this long. He has his good and
bad days. But you, Gemma, are truly remarkable." I liked hearing that.
I clumsily fished something out of my bra, without pockets it was the
only place I could put it. It was the letter I had written John when I
first returned to the hotel room. "Could you give this to him?" I
asked, handing Annette the warm piece of paper. She took in her hand
and eyed it.
"Of course," she said as she carefully slipped in into her handbag. I
hoped that she would give it to him, I knew that she would consider it.
A glass floated in front of my eyes. "Orange juice?" Tyler offered. I
took the glass from him and smiled. "How are you Annette?" Tyler was
always a gentleman. Annette and Tyler struck up a conversation while I
whetted my whistle. I opened my mouth and took a swig of O.J. After the
juice and pulp trickled down my throat there remained a distinct
aftertaste, vodka. Tyler winked at me while still talking to Annette
and I winked back. Nothing wrong with an underage girl drinking orange
juice!
My Editor Jane picked me up and introduced me to all the movers and
shakers. I tried to be charming (which was bolstered by Tyler and his
'orange juices') and I answered their questions dutifully. I smiled at
the women and flirted harmlessly with the men. I didn't even call them
out when I caught them peeking down my dress at my tanned cleavage.
"You're doing great, just great!" praised Jane as she whisked me
around, showing me off like a party trick she had just learnt,
"Everyone simply loves you! And I'm so glad you wore the Victoria Cross
dress too, you look simply stunning in it!"
"You don't think it's a little too revealing?" After 50 guys in a row
had openly gawked at my chest there was certainly a growing argument
for 'too revealing'.
"Not at all, you look like a beautiful young woman with big things in
front of you." I don't think she noticed the second meaning of that
statement. "Have you had enough meet and greets yet?"
"I am a little tuckered out," I admitted.
"Well, then go and have fun! Have a dance! Enjoy the rest of the night,
feel free to go home whenever you want, you've worked hard enough
tonight. Gemma Taylor coming to Dolly Magazine is going to be our best
issue ever, I can feel it," Jane's eyes lit up, although I'm sure some
of the glimmering was due to some dollar signs.
Jane waved to someone entity across the room and floated across. And I
was alone, through all the people I met and the conversations I had I
couldn't remember the last time I had seen Tyler, it was all a glamour
styled blur. Considering the orange juice glass I was holding was
completely empty I was sure it was a while ago. I suddenly felt like a
kid whose father had promised to hold the bike while they rode it, only
to find out that their father, in an effort to teach them how to ride,
had let go ages ago. I suddenly felt nervous, wobbly on my heels and
terrified I was going to fall. I decided that if Tyler was nowhere to
be found I would go to the toilet to hide for a little bit instead.
Gorgeous women all stood in the bathroom, daintily re-applying make-up
and talking to each other as I entered. They all smiled at me as I
meekly dashed into a stall, my heels clopping along like I was a
Clydesdale. I lifted up my dress and scooted down my panties to around
my knees. As soon as my bottom touched the seat a jet of nervous wee
came out of me. I had been drinking fairly consistently all night so
the stream was long and strong. I was scared that the other girls in
there were listening to me wee, straining to hear whether I did it
differently to 'real girls', but they probably weren't. Everyone I had
met so far tonight had been delightful. I wiped myself clean and
wriggled back into my panties. I tripled checked to make sure my dress
wasn't tucked into my undies anywhere and then flushed. I took a deep
breath and unlocked the lock on the stall.
The gorgeous women continued with their business, none were out to
accuse me of urinating wrong. I went to the sink and stood shoulder to
shoulder with someone I recognised. "Hi," she said, she seemed to know
who I was too.
"Hi," I replied, "Thanks for coming to my party."
"Well, I read a lot about you and thought you were very brave," she
smiled the smile she became famous for. She seemed a little taller than
I expected her to be but maybe that was because even in heels I didn't
come close to my old height.
"Wow," I said in shock, "Thanks." She dried her hands. I was truly
star-struck by my bathroom companion.
"I'll be looking forward to your column, Gemma. It's a pleasure to meet
you," I shook her majestic hand, even though my fingers were sopping
wet, I hoped she didn't care. She smiled sweetly and walked out the
door. I had just washed my hands beside Elle Macpherson!!!!
"Elle Macpherson!" I repeated the story to Tyler. "I mean one of the
world's most famous supermodels not only knows who I am but is looking
forward to my work!"
"That's awesome, Gem. Any chance she's still around? I'd love to be
following her instead of you!" I punched him playfully in the arm.
"Ouch! That... didn't hurt one bit! You're a weakling, Taylor!"
"It hurt, you're just too scared to admit that a girl hurt you!" I grew
up in a house with Nicole and my Mum, I knew how to tease.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure my arm is shattered in at least 5 places," Tyler
pretended to nurse his arm. The problem with Tyler was when he was sexy
he was sexy and when he was being annoying he was even sexier. He
sounded a little drunk too, he probably sunk back a few while I was off
hobnobbing it with the city's biggest and brightest. The 'orange
juices' he brought me had made me a little bit tipsy myself.
I leaned into Tyler pressing my body against his, grabbed his hands and
whispered, "Wanna dance?" as if I was asking him to fuck me in the
toilets.
"Let's do it," he answered, no promising him to show him my tits if he
danced with me was needed. I gripped his hand securely and pulled him
in the direction of the dancing. Being such a 'too cool for school'
teen the pop music blaring from the speakers wasn't well known to me,
the more popular a thing is the more Dot, Glen and I ignored it, but it
had a beat and it felt great to shake about to. I'm sure Lilly or Alana
would know the song.
Tyler was, of course, a great dancer - free spirited and fun. I loved
dancing in this body of mine, it felt so right. As Michael, I always
felt awkward and as if I was missing a big part of how to do it. But
now I got it, I rolled my hips about and enjoyed the bouncing sensation
from my chest. Dancing on heels wasn't as hard as I thought, that is as
long I kept both feet on the ground at all times. I gently pressed my
back up against Tyler's masculine front and sensuously slid down him.
That was a dangerous move for a few reasons:
1) I was a little unstable due to the high heels and the slightly less
than copious amounts of 'special' orange juices I had consumed. I
wasn't drunk, but I wasn't far off.
2) I was Dolly Magazine's golden girl and probably shouldn't be seen
dirty dancing with a man a few years my elder.
3) There was a risk as I slid down him that my dress would come up
exposing my little panties to everyone.
From the face Tyler was pulling when I stood back up and turned around,
the risks were well worth taking. "Where did a sweet girl like you
learn dance moves like this?" Tyler jokingly whispered.
"I think they came with the body," I shrugged and went back to only
slightly sexualised dancing. I say 'only sightly sexualised' because
there is an unmistakable sexual energy to all dances and even though we
were only joking around, having fun on the dance floor there was the
relentless tug of sexual attraction between us.
The night, as all nights have a tendency of doing, went on. The crowd
began to thin and I was called upon to say good bye to the people I had
met only a few hours before; friendly people who work for the magazine,
pretty young female celebs and their phenomenally hunky male
counterparts, people in charge of society pages in the newspapers
(Tyler seemed to know them well.) and TV and radio people who told me
that they wanted to make me a star. Elle Macpherson had supposedly left
earlier without saying good-bye to me.
I yawned and the power of the yawn gave Tyler the magical ability to
make decisions for me. "She's ready to call it a night," he decided. I
thanked the right people for a fantastic night and smiled the way I
should. I followed Tyler weaving through the crowd, people waved
goodbye and told me that they were looking forward to seeing the issue
of the magazine. Everyone had a business card they wanted me to have
and all talked about chatting about my big plans to the future.
"Good night dear," said Victoria and she kissed me on both cheeks. It
all was a whirl, of nodding, smiling and dreaming of the celebrity they
wanted me to be.
It was hard to think that I could possibly be a bigger celebrity when I
got to the Lobby exit, while the fans were long gone, spinning into the
night with stories and photos of the famous people who whirled down the
red carpet, a phalanx of photographers waited for me. CLICK! CLICK!
CLICK! Gemma! CLICK! "Did you have a fun CLICK! night?" CLICK!
"I did," I smiled, as I stepped into my limo, Tyler's coat draped over
my slender shoulders. The limo driver gently pulled out, taking
Cinderella away from the ball, both shoes on her feet, killing her. Not
exactly how the fairytale went but at least Prince Charming was in the
carriage with her.
"That was a lot of fun. I don't want to go home tomorrow. Can't I just
live here with you?" I said, as Sydney rolled past my window. I was
foolish to let a moment go while here in Sydney, they were all special
to me and I had let them all slip through my fingers. I had only a
precious few of them left and I wasn't going to let any of them go. You
can only come to Sydney for the first time once, and the next time
might not be as magical.
Tyler brushed his fingers through my hair and I sighed contentedly.
"How about you can live in my apartment and I move to Marrang and live
with your Mum?" he joked.
"She'd love that. She bloody loves you!" I explained.
"Your Mum isn't so bad herself!" Tyler said. This conversation wasn't
going in the right direction, he was meant to want to kiss me, not Mum!
I shimmied a little closer to him and sleepily let my head rest on his
shoulder. The limo pulled up and the driver opened the door. This is
where we would part, Tyler would go back to his place and I would go up
to bed, unkissed. I lingered out front of the lobby, waiting for
something to happen.
"Well, this is goodbye then?" Tyler seemed as unsure as I did about our
imminent parting.
"I guess so," I pouted and looked at my feet.
"Yeah, I guess I'll drive home and have a sleep. Lots of offers for you
to sort out, you little superstar." His jacket sat on my shoulders,
making me look even smaller than I already am. He reached over my
shoulders and took his jacket back.
"Tyler..." I helplessly protested.
"Look, don't get all sad on me, kiddo. I loved showing you around and
next time you're up I can show you even more. And when you turn 18,
even more."
I giggled but that dislodged a few tears, they came trickling down my
perfectly made-up cheek.
"When are you 18?" he asked.
"January 3rd," I huffed, I wouldn't be an 'adult' for almost a year,
"I'm still a baby!"
"Don't be like that, kiddo! You're the most amazing person I've ever
met, you're so strong and brave and adorable. I've never seen one
person charm an entire room like you did before. You had everyone in
the palm of your hand. And it's not just because of your history or
because you're breathtakingly beautiful, it's of because of your big
heart."
"That's so nice of you to say, Tyler. You've been so great to me the
entire trip," I sniffled, "I'm going to miss you so m...." The moment
was so much more about not trying to cry in my tired, emotional and
slightly drunk state of mind and not about a kiss anymore.
"Hey cheer up, I'll see you tomorrow. I'm driving you to the airport,
aren't I? That's going to be fun!" I laughed a little at his lame
attempt at cheering me up. The night wind made me shiver and I saw a
look in Tyler's eyes. He was wondering whether to give me his jacket
again so we could talk more or if he should just leave.
"I'll see you tomorrow, OK?" Tyler had made his decision. He wasn't
going to kiss his little princess, dressed in her gorgeous little
yellow dress.
CHAPTER 30
I sulked around my room, too depressed to look at my amazing view or
eat anything from my amazing fruit basket. I missed Tyler, I missed
home and I missed my opportunity for a kiss. There was no way he was
going to kiss me at the airport, that's the place for last kisses, not
first kisses. The night of the big ball is when usually the princess
received her precious first kiss. I was a little annoyed that my inner-
monologue kept referring to myself as a little princess but even more
annoyed that the little princess didn't get her kiss.
With the failure of my rather successful night fresh in my mind, I
kicked off my heels in whatever direction they felt like flying in and
nursed my painful feet. There was an open bottle of champagne lying
around so I helped myself to a glass, a pity glass. I sat, dressed like
an angel, totally alone. I wanted to call Dot or Alana or Glen but it
was way too late to be calling anyone to commiserate. Instead I gulped
a heaping great mouthful of flat champagne.
'What am I doing?' I thought, 'I'm in a palace, dressed liked a
princess, yearning for my Prince to come and rescue me.' I was so much
girlier than I first thought. Maybe Kate Draffen was right, maybe
playing as Gemma was all an act to make me think that I was ok with
this. 'I am wearing a dress for Christ's sake! A dress that accentuates
my tiny waist and big boobs!' I thought, 'This must all be an act!
You're are just trying to stop yourself from going crazy!' I felt the
dress constricting me, tightening on my tiny body. For the first time
in awhile I wanted my old body back!
That scary thought was shaken from my body when I heard a sound. A
distinct sound. There was a gentle but persistent knock coming from the
door. "Gem, it's Tyler," the knocker revealed himself in a loud
whisper. I bounded to my feet and pure glee itself carried me to the
front door. I quickly straightened up, fixed my dress and cracked the
door open. It was Tyler, as charming and good looking as when I left
him 10 minutes ago. My Prince had climbed the tower to rescue me. And
to save me all he needed to do is give his Princess her first true
love's kiss.
"Are my keys on the kitchen bench?" the Prince asked, like a total
dickhead.
"Umm...," I said, my 'umm' filled with total dejection, "Come in and
have a look." I opened the door fully and let him inside, making sure
to close it behind him.
He looked at the bench, "Nope," he said and he pottered off to look for
them somewhere else, I followed closely behind. We walked to the
couches where he had sat while I got my make-up on earlier in the day.
He flipped up the cushions and ran his hand in between then. "Fuck!"
"No luck?" It was obvious; nobody says 'Fuck!' when they find what they
are looking for. Unless maybe a rattle snake.
"I must have dropped them at the party. I can remember having them
there. That's annoying," he slumped, defeated, onto the couch. I
couldn't help but feel that perhaps where Tyler was unlucky I was
lucky.
"What are you going to do?" I asked him, with concern in my voice.
"Guess I'll take a taxi back home," he lamented.
"How will you get in?"
"Oh yeah! My flat keys! Damn it!"
Now was my chance! I looked at him, his sexy 5 o'clock shadow starting
to set in. "You more than welcome to stay here," I purred, leaning
towards him, "I have three beds and I only have one body." I seriously
hoped he noticed my body.
He put his hands in his hair and sighed, "Gemma, I can't."
"Why not?" I asked honestly, "You've had too much to drink so even if
you do find your keys you shouldn't be driving anyway. Plus it's not
like you have to share a bed with me or even a room. Come on, we'll
open that last bottle of champagne, have a chat and then a massive
sleep in."
As my words rolled over the top of him, swirling into his ears like
water down a plug hole, his cat-like smile grew bigger and bigger "You
do make a very persuasive argument, Gemma Taylor."
The kiss was back in the picture! "It's that or you sleep in the
streets," I cheerfully explained. Tyler laughed as he grabbed the
bottle of room temperature champagne I was given and popped the cork,
it flew across the room, attacking the wall above the massive flat-
screen TV that reminded me of the one at home. I took the glass he
offered me and began to sip it. "I've drank enough of this stuff that I
actually kinda like it," I giggled.
"We should make a toast, Gemma," Tyler said, his slur showing through.
He too was a little drunk, "Ummm... to wishes coming true!" He clinked
my glass sweetly. I looked into his eyes, they were a painfully sexy
shade of blue. I nodded at his sweet sentiments and sipped some more.
I ran my hand through my hair, knowing that doing it made me look both
sexy and vulnerable. "So many of my dreams have already came true on
this trip. There's just an impossible one left."
"Impossible? Not possible! Dreams are never impossible, kiddo, some are
just more tricky than others," Tyler poured himself another glass, "And
if anyone is going to get a happily ever after it's going to be you,
Gem. So, what is this impossible dream?"
"It's silly," I admitted.
"Come on, tell me please," cajoled Tyler.
I swallowed hard and looked at the handsome man I was sharing this
moment/couch/room with. I would have never had thought that I would
find a man so irresistibly alluring. His manly musk blew across on a
breeze and caught my nostrils. I was inches away from my dream but
couldn't even tell if it was possible. If it was possible, it would be
the perfect way to end a perfect night, if it wasn't the whole night
would embarrassingly crumble apart. The city lights blinked in the
distance and reminded me that you're only ever in Sydney for the first
time once.
"I wished that you would kiss me," I said, my breaths becoming short
and embarrassed.
His eyes looked surprised but he said nothing. I felt small and stupid,
I had ruined a beautiful moment with a good friend. I was totally
humiliated, but at least my first trip to The Big City was almost over.
Tyler sat up, he was probably going to excuse himself and go to his
room. He smiled the slightest of smiles and moved in. Closer and closer
into my personal space. He was going to kiss me! He closed his eyes and
parted his lips and brought them close to mine. My heart took off,
thumping faster then it was ever meant to.
"I am Gemma!" my mind screamed as his lips gently touched mine, our
mouths slightly open. The kiss was incredible, his tongue darting in my
mouth just for a second, it was quick, deep and delightful. I had never
felt more alive, more remarkable, more feminine in my entire life! A
man was kissing me and I liked it, a lot! Our lips almost parted but he
pressed them together for a brief moment, a second mini-kiss that spoke
worlds about the first. I was now a woman and didn't care who knew it.
I sighed a little pleasantly, a little bit disgruntled as the kiss
ended. I waited a moment, letting all the thoughts in my head settle
down before I opened my eyes. This was so more amazing than my first
kiss as a guy, who knew that kissing felt so different?
"You made my wish come true," I whispered, still panting heavily.
"That's because you deserve everything you could ever wish for,
Princess." I melted when he called me princess. I was never a big one
for cutesy nicknames but I never wanted him to call me anything but
Princess again.
"I wish you'd kiss me some more," I smiled. I had told myself that I
only needed one kiss to make this a perfect night but it wasn't true, I
needed all the kisses I could cram into one night.
"Gemma..." he had dropped 'princess' rather quickly, "I'm nine years
older than you. You're not even 18 yet. Believe me I want to kiss you
again. And again. And again. But there is a thousand reasons why I
shouldn't."
"Hmmm," I sighed as I slowly invaded his personal space, "A thousand? I
can't think of one."
"Well, looking at you now, I can't seem to recall one either." He
kissed me again, rougher this time. This kiss had the intention of a
million kisses to follow and I was going to enjoy every single one. His
arms wrapped around me and massaged my supple back. I moaned in pure
ecstasy. I hardened and dampened in the usual spots and breathed deep.
If only John Draffen could see me now.
There was passion in every kiss, every kiss felt like a first kiss. The
first kiss where his hand touched my back, the first kiss where my
tongue played with his, the first kiss where he moaned, it was a
torrent of firsts. We both moved from a sitting position to a lying
one, his manly body on top of mine. He was gentle and firm and knew
what he was doing, I was passionate and scared and couldn't get enough.
My moans belied how much I was enjoying it but yet how terrified I was
too. His hand came up to my boob and gently massaged it through my
dress and I almost exploded in pleasure. I couldn't believe I ever
wanted to cut them off, they felt mind-blowing! My hands caressed his
body, enjoying the tour of his broad masculine shoulders, his rippling
abs and oh so handsome face. His 5 o'clock shadow scratched my soft
skin a little but I didn't mind. I loved being the girl! I wondered how
I was a guy for so long.
Our lips continued to stay locked together is a passionate game. Our
tongues rolling around like crates on a rocking ship. He tasted so
sweet that I wasn't sure I could separate my lips from his even if I
wanted to. A wandering hand explored under my dress and cupped my pert,
round, buttocks. I did not stop his rummaging under my dress, in fact I
made a noise that suggested that I loved his hand exactly where it was.
He understood and went under my panties to grab a handful of my
delicate flesh.
I felt a bulge pressing against one of my legs, I knew what it was, I
once had a bulge like that myself. It seemed like a lifetime ago. All I
had now was a void between my thighs; an aching void that had never
felt so empty. Tyler's hand found its way from my bum down to my aching
void. I gasped slightly as he traced a solitary finger around my moist
pussy lips. It felt amazing when I did it myself but a foreign digit
made it feel like paradise was between my legs. As our tongues tangled
together in a passionate mess, Tyler gently inserted a finger into my
moist pussy. It was all going so fast, and yet not fast enough. I
wriggled my hips in delight and then something unexpected happened.
He stopped.
He stopped kissing me, he stopping kneaded my boob and he removed his
finger from me.
"Tyler," I said, to reassure him that I was enjoying it all.
"I can't," he responded, "You are just too special."
"But I want you to." It was true, I wanted Tyler to enjoy my body.
"Look Gem, you're just drunk on champagne, drunk on the big city, drunk
on being a celebrity. If we did follow through you would regret it one
day and I would regret taking your special moment away from you," Tyler
sat up, getting off me.
"You think I'm stupid, don't you?" I started to get all upset.
"God no, believe me if you were two years older I would be more than
happy to be your boyfriend, but there's a big difference between a 17
year old girl and 19 year old woman. There's a lot of growing up in
those years." The way he looked at me I felt 7, not 17.
"It's not illegal, I'm giving you consent," definitely not the sexiest
thing to say but I thought it might get him in the mood. Nothing like
being assured that you are not about to commit statutory rape to get
you horny. The bulge in his pants had not yet gone down. I moved in for
a kiss. He let me kiss him but he didn't kiss back. It just wasn't as
fun by myself.
"Gemma, you are far too special for me to do this to you. Good night,"
he stood up and went towards his bedroom. He looked back at me, his
hair all messed up from our exertions. "I'll see you in the morning, OK
kiddo?"
"OK," I pouted. I was used to getting my way these days and Tyler was
trying to tell me I was getting my way, but it didn't feel like it. My
special area screamed out for his touch and I was old enough and woman
enough to know when it was the right time. I wasn't even that drunk, I
walked all the way to my en suite without so much as a stumble. I
crumbled and sat on the toilet lid, sobbing like a spoilt child. There
was something scary about my unfed lust, something that frightened me a
little bit. I felt so foolish, acting so flirty and mature and then
pretty much flat out begging him for sex. I felt like a prostitute and
a little kid at the same time.
Worst of all he turned me down! I let my dress slip off my shoulders
and into a messy yellow puddle around my feet. My incredibly sexy body
was reflected back at me. He turned this down! I knew the truth - I was
a little sexpot! A body designed for living out people's fantasies and
I owned it. I slid out of my damp panties and stared at what Tyler
should have been looking at now. His loss, if he didn't want me I was
sure I could find a man or boy who would appreciate, no, worship my
body.
I threw myself onto my bed, lying on top of the sheets and doona. I
rubbed my inner thighs with contempt, moving onto my warm, wet pussy.
My sex musk filled the room. I kept reminding myself that Tyler was
missing out and I hoped he knew it too. I moaned, hopefully loud enough
so that he could hear. I really didn't like being told 'no' and
especially to an offer as divine as was offered to him. The fingering
was making me feel all hot and bothered but ultimately unfulfilled. I
sat up, charged with a new mission and I strolled to Tyler's room.
On reflection I wasn't quite sure what my plan was, all I knew was that
I was semi-naked and that I wouldn't take 'no' for an answer anymore.
Tyler laid on the bed, shirtless with the covers off, his manly chest
glowing with sweat. His business suits had hidden a body that he must
have worked hard on, he was all rippling and chiselled. He was even
better looking than I had imagined. Tyler peacefully slept although
another part of his body was far from sleepy. There was a telltale tent
pole holding up his boxer shorts.
I wasn't sure on what to do next. My flimsy plan pretty much counted on
him being awake, It is very hard to seduce an man who is asleep,
especially for an amateur seductress like me. Gingerly and very
carefully I sat down beside him. His erection enthralled me, what used
to be routine, even mundane to me, was driving me into an orgasmic bout
of pure lust. Sure, my penis had been erect hundreds of times before,
but this was someone else's and I knew exactly where in wanted to go:
inside me!
In my quest to be as typically female as I could be I often had leafed
through women's magazines, like Cosmo and other mags geared toward
girls in their late teens and twenties. Their covers often promised
'101 Fantastic Sex Tips' and '45 Ways To Please Your Man'. I had read
them diligently wondering if I would ever need to know the tips. One
such tip popped into my mind. The magazine said, 'Wake your man up with
a steamy head job, it will the best wake up call he'll ever get!'
I must have sat on the bed not moving for 5 minutes, letting the nerves
build up in my tummy. It was something I desperately wanted to do but
it was terribly scary at the same time, like bungee jumping. I knew if
I just bit the bullet I would enjoy it. I couldn't sit here all night,
erections don't last that long and Tyler would probably find it weird
if he woke up to see my mouth wrapped around his flaccid penis. With a
mounting dose of trepidation my fingers inched their way to the button
on his boxer shorts. I needed that button undone if I was going to give
him a special wake up call. Luckily the button wasn't at the head of
his penis, it was being pulled tight on the underside of it. The button
was only really half done up, so a simple flick sent the silk
fluttering down, reveal his manly shaft. It was bigger and thicker than
the last one I handled belonging to Terry the British Backpacker but it
was still a little smaller than mine used to be. But that didn't
comfort me any more, it was still huge compared to my mouth.
My tongue danced over my lips nervously, moistening them of their big
job. I wasn't sure how much longer his erection would last without my
oral help, so I knew if I was going to go through with it, it would had
to be soon. 'What would my Mum think?' was a thought that flashed
through my mind. Knowing my Mum she would want to do the same thing to
him herself. And so would Nicole and Dot and probably any other girl
who would be interested in beautiful blue eyes and a tremendous body. I
owed it to girls everywhere to suck this beautiful cock.
I started slow, just the tip of my tongue touching the head of his
cock. It tasted tangy but not horrible, I got on my knees and kneeled
over him, lowering my mouth ever further. I was sucking on a cock! I
had bandied the term 'cocksucker' around as an insult in my younger
days and now I was one. A bona-fide cocksucker. My lips wrapped around
the shaft and I quietly went to work, building up a slow but definite
rhythm. To be honest, I felt great. I felt sexy and powerful and
subservient at the same time. I was pleasuring a man who wasn't even
awake. I looked up at Tyler's face - his eyes were open!
He said, "Hey,"
Not as in an angry "Hey! What the hell are you doing?" Or "Hey! Get off
my penis!"
Nor was it a lecherous "Hey baby, you like what Daddy's got?"
It was a warm, friendly "Hey," like "Hey, I really missed you," or a
"Hey, how are you doing?"
I took my mouth off of him and whispered nervously, "Do you want me to
stop?" I felt like an adult had caught me doing something naughty.
There was a heavy pause where I had no clue what Tyler was thinking.
"I'm trying my best to say yes but the truth is no, I don't want you to
stop." We shared a nervous laugh between us and I slowly lowered my
head. I looked him in the eyes as I did it, searching for approval like
an eager to please puppy. He smiled and nodded peacefully. I decided I
could go deeper and faster, I doubled my effort, bobbing up and down
faster and more intense.
My mind flicked through the pages of the magazines to try and remember
some other tricks. I wanted to be good for Tyler, I wanted tonight to
be very memorable. One had suggested sucking on an ice cube while I go
down on him, but I didn't want to leave to get some ice. Another
article said to gently nibble the foreskin but Tyler was circumcised so
that was out too. I guess I didn't need any tricks because Tyler looked
like he was enjoying it very, very much.
"Gemma, you naughty princess!" Tyler gently chided me as I enjoyed
myself. "You look so fucking beautiful, you know that?" I liked hearing
his compliments; it spurred me on to do even a better job. I knew that
it would impossible for us to have a boyfriend/girlfriend relationship
but like when he took me to dinner, it was fun pretending. I still was
unsure if I was ready for a boyfriend but pleasuring a good-looking man
is another thing altogether.
"Good girl," praised Tyler, "Just a little faster." I adjusted my
speed, taking more in at a faster pace, my little bottom sticking high
in the air. Tyler groaned in appreciation. I couldn't tell him how much
I was enjoying what was happening so I moaned back. "Just a little bit
faster."
It was all a little too much, the furious speed, the sense of power,
the taste of champagne and cock in my mouth, I began to feel the room
begin to swirl. Was this all a dream? Would I wake up soon in my old
room in my old body in my old unremarkable life? I didn't want that to
happen. I loved the fact that I was the toast of Sydney, a
writer/model/celebrity who was currently hungrily sucking the penis of
a really sweet and really cute guy. It was my new life and it was
exciting.
"Gemma?" Tyler broke my little train of though. I looked up at him from
my position. "You've done such a good job that I'm going to cum very
soon, very soon! So unless you want to swallow my load I'd stop sucking
pretty soon." I wanted to make him happy, good girls swallow and I was
tying to be a 'good girl'. I looked at him with a glint in my eyes and
sucked. Now I knew more than most girls giving their first blowjob that
cum isn't the nicest thing in the world; the smell was never great, the
consistency is disgusting and it can be horrendous if it dries. I had 3
solid years experience of rubbing my own penis to know the trials and
tribulations of semen.
I heard a grunt and I braced myself, sliding down his cock so that most
of it just slides down my throat. His thick member twitches and
suddenly a warm liquid is filling my mouth. I try not to panic, he
warned me and I knew what I was getting into. I let the warm substance
trickled back as far as it could go and I slurped it up and swallowed
it. The good news was that it wasn't a bucket load, he must have came
earlier in the day or maybe yesterday. I imagined him hurrying home
after our almost kiss last night only to masturbate frantically
thinking of me.
I gulped it down and lifted my head up, I felt a drop of cum dripping
down my chin. "All gone!" I said proudly, as if I was a 4 year old who
had eaten all of their vegetables.
"Good girl," Tyler sighed exhausted, "Well, that was a surprise!" I
wiped my mouth with the bed sheet, the salty taste still lingered in my
mouth. I crawled up beside him.
"I hope you liked it," I cooed into his ear as our heads shared the
same pillow. Our noses brushed against each other as I stared in awe
into his eyes.
"Liked it?" he whispered back, "I loved it. You do know this can only
be a one-time thing, Gemma? If anyone found out, I could lose my job."
"I know," I said maturely, snuggling up to him, "I wont tell anyone if
you don't." My crotch was moist and my nipples hard. He was huge
compared to me, I felt like a little ant snuggling up to a giant. His
hairy torso scratched my smooth tummy, a giant arms wrapped around my
tiny waist. I was at his mercy and yet I felt so secure. He kissed me
and I felt happier than I ever had before.
Our lips parted and Tyler grinned. "So, would you like for me to go
down on you?" He asked me. I nodded nervously. My breaths became
shallow and quick as he kissed me on my neck. He planted tiny kisses
all over my collarbone as he hand reached underneath desperate to undo
my bra. I remember the exhilaration of awkwardly fumbling with my ex-
girlfriend's bra when I was 15, thrilled to get my hands on her tiny A-
cups, it seemed to take a millennium to get her bra off. Tyler seemed
to be either much luckier or much more talented and I felt the bra come
undone in a matter of seconds. I held my arms out as he hurriedly
pulled the bra up my arms and off completely, the recently freed
breasts jiggled and Tyler squeezed them mischievously. With my bra off
I was completely naked, unless you count the studs in my ears. "These
are the most perfect tits I have ever seen. They are perfection! You
may have to get the jaws on life to remove my hands from them."
His fingers danced around the crinkled skin of my areolas and I moaned
in pleasure. "Oh you like that, huh? Little princess likes me playing
with her little, perky nipples?" Tyler teased me more by gently
flicking my nipples with his fingers. I nodded enthusiastically. He
lowered his head and began coiling his tongue around my left nipple,
his hands made sure my right one didn't feel unloved.
As his tongue circled my nipple I couldn't hold back. "Oh yeah, oh
yeah, oh yeah," I moaned because I felt if I didn't I would explode in
pleasure. The image of Tyler heartily sucking on my nipple turned me on
even more. I briefly wondered if a baby would ever suckle there, but
tried to block t