Crossdressing Charlie: Episode 12 - Seventeen free porn video

CROSSDRESSING CHARLIE Episode 12 SEVENTEEN It is the 12th June, ten days after the shopping/cinema date and Charlie has not heard from Dave. He sits in the back garden on his deck chair, staring out into the dusk sky as the sun slowly sank down behind the distant housing estate. It is a warm mid-Junes evening and the sky is painted with pinks, reds and oranges across the dark blue canvas. Even the stars were beginning to protrude through the blackest parts of the sky. It is truly wondrous. The feminine sound of hairdryers, zippers, sprays, girls chatting, plates clinging and muffled sounds of music rang from the back door. All of this noise was because of last minute preparations of Charlie and Rachel Smith's seventeenth birthday party. Charlie had no interest in having a party whatsoever. After all, he was only just turning seventeen and it was not like becoming eighteen or twenty-one exactly. It was mostly his sister's night as it was merely another excuse to have a large social gathering of cliques, groups, and friends from their school. She was always more popular, mainly because she liked most people and Charlie did not. Most were already bored and restless with their summer holidays, and it was only two weeks in so everyone was desperate to find a place where they can drink alcohol for a night without concern. Charlie sighed as he continued to watch the large orange sun sink down, feeling the need to do so every few minutes to remind himself that he must breathe. His mind and heart had become heavy with burdens since the day at the shopping mall two weeks ago. He tried to block out everything that had happened but it was hard. Suddenly, he heard footsteps nearing his deck chair. He immediately broke from his abstraction and turned to see his mother, dressed rather elegantly in a black high waisted pencil skirt with a short cap-sleeved blouse tucked inside. Her makeup is flawless, her brunette hair is wavy and let loose down her back and over her shoulders like two shiny curtains. It was the best she had looked in a long time and the sight of her made Charlie smile. She sat down next to him, looking somewhat nervous. "How are you feeling?" she asked. "Good, yeah, I'm fine," Charlie lied, as always. They shared a few moments of silence. Mary looked down at her feet, looking unsure of what she would say next. "Look I'm not going to pester you about what's going on inside your head tonight, Charlie, but if you have changed your mind, then maybe you want invite some of your close friends over before the party starts - you know - like Rachel did." "I'll be lucky if they even show for the actual party," scoffed Charlie. Again, this brought on an uncomfortable silence between them. "Yet I honestly don't care," he added. "I know things haven't been easy for you, Charlie," said Mary softly. "But if you try and enjoy tonight then maybe, just maybe you'll overcome whatever is bothering you." Charlie hated what she had just said. She had no clue, no clue whatsoever. However, he could not blame her. He knew he was the one pushing her away and he felt a painful agony for doing so. He wishes he didn't have to be so secretive, so pent-up and so defensive about who he is. "Thanks mom," he said, looking at her with a sad smile. They sat together; mother and son, looking at the sun disappear below the horizon until the stars began to illuminate the sky like millions of shiny light bulbs. "I want to give you a present," said Mary as they looked up at the sky, "something special." "What is it?" said Charlie, looking over at her. Mary sat up straight, trying to hide her excited smile. Charlie too sat up and turned in his seat to face his mothers as his eyes lit up with great interest. She reached inside her skirt pocket and took out something clenched within her fist. She looked vaguely sad yet very loving and caring, more than she had seemed in recent years. "I wanted to give this to you next year when you turned eighteen but I thought why not now, why wait?". "What is it?" asked Charlie in a soft tone, sounding curious and child- like. "Something special that has been passed down from my grandfather, to my mother, to me and now onto you," said Mary soothingly. She opened her hands to reveal a gold circle with a thin chain attached to it. Charlie immediately looked up into his mothers eyes, his mouth open with awe. "Mom, I can't -," "Take it," she smiled, her eyes wet with emotion. Charlie's heart thumped faster as he reached in and took the object into his right hand. He flicked it open. It was a compass, an old one. Inside the door was a small but old worn photo of Mary holding a newborn baby in her arms, it was Charlie. He was over encumbered with unexplainable emotions, the main one being love but the stronger one being guilt. He looked at his mother, "Thank you. Thank you for everything." "You deserve it, son," said Mary, touching Charlie on the arm, just like she used to when he was a young child. He wanted to hug her. He could not remember the last time he had done so. Just looking at her being so caring made his heart ache with guilt, all the lies, the hardship and neglect he had caused her. If she only knew what was going on with him, then, maybe she would not have given him the family heirloom at all. "I better go and get ready," said Charlie, standing up and breaking the moment into pieces. Mary too stood up, straightened her skirt, and looked a little embarrassed. Just as Charlie turned for the door, he unexpectedly turned around and hugged his mother. Mary, who was briefly taken aback, wrapped her arms around him. "Happy Birthday, Charlie," she whispered softly. "Now, go inside and enjoy your night." He broke away, feeling a little awkward and smiled crookedly before walking into the house as Mary watched from behind, smiling proudly. He only noticed when he stepped inside the kitchen that his body seemed overheated. His heart raced and his mind fired up as he clenched the compass tightly in his hand. As he walked into the hallway, he took notice of how clean and neat the rooms were, waiting to be put out of place over the course of the night. He climbed the stairs, feeling each step increase his guilt feelings. He walked down the hallway, the sound of Rachel's friends, and pop music growing louder before placing his hand on the bathroom door. "Hi, Charlie!" called a soft, high-pitched voice. Charlie looked to his right to see Kayla standing in the doorway of Rachel's room. Her appearance immediately struck him. She dressed girlishly in a short puffy transparent skirt with a polyester underskirt, a short sleeved, puffed peach coloured blouse, tucked into the high waistband, black tights and matching high-heeled ankle shoes. Her brunette hair, freshly cut, lengthened down to her shoulders. It was thick, rich, and shiny with a long fringe hanging over her forehead. It was as if she was waiting for him to come. "H-Hey Jug - Kayla - I mean, Kayla, hello!" said Charlie, turning red as he almost called Kayla by the secret nickname he christened her, Jugosaurus. He quickly locked himself inside the bathroom before Kayla could say another word to him. He placed the compass by the sink side and sat down on the edge of the bath. He could feel something well up inside him, something terrible. "Why did you have to give me that compass?" whispered Charlie, clenching his fists and grinding his teeth. "Why did you HAVE to make me feel so guilty?". As he stared at it, glinting against the light above the sink, he felt like he didn't deserve it, not after all of his lying, deceit, anger, neglect and betrayal. "The compass that had belonged to my worthy great grandfather during the war, now in the hands of a disgraceful freak." The Smith's were never exactly an honourable family with grand expectations of every member but the compass was the only true heirloom inherited by generations. Charlie wished his mother had not given it to him in such a desperate time. He felt that Rachel would be more suitable to keep it. Why would she give it to him at such a young age anyway? What was the point? Charlie's paranoia started to kick in once again as he contemplated the prospect of his mother trying to guilt him into telling her his secrets, but no, not Mary, she was much too affectionate to do such a thing. Charlie shot up, grabbed the compass, and went to his bedroom. He opened his chest of drawers and threw it inside, feeling that he would never look at it again until it felt right. He felt guilty and depressed for everything he was keeping from his mother and sister but maybe when the time came, he might be worthy to possess such an heirloom. He backed away from the chest and sat on the bed, letting out a great sigh. He wanted to punch himself across the jaw. He felt accountable for his mother's false feelings of love and care for him. The proud look glinting in her eyes as she handed him the compass made Charlie feel a pain nobody could express in words. "I suppose I had better get ready," he said to nobody in particular. Within a few moments, Charlie was standing in front of the full-length mirror, buttoning up his black slim fit shirt and stepping into his converse all-stars. He also wore a pair of dark jeans with a white washed pattern on the frontal thighs. He brushed his hair for the first time in a while, commenting to himself on how badly he needed to get it cut. "Smile, Charlie. It's what you do best," he said to his reflection. He watched everyone arrive outside his house, dressed for partying and carrying crates of beer up the footpath. Occasionally people brought packages that looked like presents but he felt certain that they were not for him but for his sister. Every few minutes he heard the doorbell ring, followed by the same loud and overly excited expression, "HEY! Oh my god, thank you so much for coming guys! Everyone else is out the back!". As he watched, he started to feel worse about himself. He knew very well that they were there for Rachel and not for him. He felt like a nuisance, like a parasite, living off his sister's glory just because he was her twin. That was how he expected people to see him as. It hurt him. When he finally went downstairs, (which was a long time after everyone had arrived) he was shocked to see how many people had turned up. He knew almost nobody but occasionally he met the odd school friend from years back. The pats on the back as he moved through the crowd, the well wishes of, "Hey man, happy seventeenth!" or the stale joke of, "You're now legal to do the business!" made Charlie feel like he had to feign enjoyment to please his "audience". He knew he was finding things to complain about, the loud thumping music, the snobby stuck up people from his school who rarely talked to him sitting on his couch, the friends of Rachel, the zero of his own and the whole pointlessness of getting drunk after turning an obscure age. Overall, he wished he had stayed upstairs in his room. After walking through his sitting room, shaking hands and forcing smiles he moved through the hallway where an army of people holding beers stood at each end. "There he is," boomed the annoying Jack Summers, drunk and raising his bottle in the air, "the man of the hour, himself, Mr. Charlie Smith!". Everyone in the hall applauded and wooed him as he walked through, "You da man, Charles," shouted Rebecca Stevenson into his ear, a girl who was neither friend of Rachel's or Charlie's. He smiled awkwardly, "Hey, thanks for coming, I appreciate it," he said repeatedly, as drunk, tipsy and just plain irritating people shouted in his ear. When he got to the kitchen, things weren't much different. It was packed with people talking over the loud music. There were girls dressed in extremely revealing attire and painfully high heels, boys dressed in shirts or sweater-shirts and whatnot. He spotted a few people he would usually talk to, Joseph, Tommy and even Young Alan, who was surprisingly guzzling down Buds as if there were no tomorrow. "Whoa! Don't hurt yourself, Young Alan!" said Charlie, grinning honestly. "Happy sweet sixteenth, man!" beamed Joseph, his mouth hanging open as always. "He's seventeen, you disgraceful excuse for a human brain," mumbled Tommy quietly, nursing his drink carefully. Joseph who didn't even hear Tommy, gave Charlie a casual nudge on the arm, "I can't believe how much turned up, I mean almost all of our entire year is here and on the plus side, have seen all of the hot skirt here tonight?!" "Yeah, it's pretty amazing," said Charlie, not exactly caring very much. "The women here are as hot as the flames of hell," mumbled Tommy, his eyes shining through his hairy face as he coyly stared into his glass. "Well, it's not exactly like I know half of the people here," said Charlie, shrugging his shoulders. "I mean, they're all Rachel's friends!" "Who cares, mate! Besides, you might even get laid tonight, now you're legal and stuff!" nodded Joseph, slapping an invisible woman's rear. "I dunno about that," said Charlie, standing up on his toes and looking around at the crowd. "Hey where's Sean?" Joseph's smile quickly turned into a straight poker face by the mention of the name. "I dunno, I reckon he's coming a bit later?" "He is probably with Julie, yeah?" said Charlie, trying to sound casual. Joseph looked a lot more comfortable by Charlie's apparent empathy as he smiled and nodded like a happy dog, "Yeah, that's probably it!". "Great," said Charlie, clapping and rubbing his hands together with repressive anger. "Well, enjoy your night guys and try not to wreck the place!" He turned to his right and pounded Tommy on the arm, "Try not to get too wasted, eh?" "I'm here for your sisters hot body and her body only," muttered Tommy, staring down at his feet. Charlie wedged his way through the crowd, wondering if everyone actually knew who's birthday it was because by the looks of it, some people looked like they were in college. He managed to get outside into the back garden where he inhaled an unholy amount of smoke and cold night air. "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, you look like a poo, and you smell like one too, doo da dee dee dee doo!" shouted Conor Reynolds, the so-called class clown, as he sat with a group of girls around the garden table. "Hey, hey, that's funny, HA, you should be a comedian," said Charlie, sounding unintentionally sarcastic. "Thanks, guy!" said Conor, raising his hand with proud approval. "HEEEEEEEEY! There's the best birthday brother in the whole wide world!" shouted Rachel, ambushing Charlie from behind by draping her arms around his shoulders. "Y-Yeah," said Charlie uncomfortably startled by his sisters drunkenness and shocked by the cigarette he saw in her hand. "Jesus Rachel, you smoke?!" he said, throwing her arms off. He turned to look at her, standing there on the porch in her extremely short and tight pink tube dress, strapless with a revealing bosom. Her brunette hair, made up to seem thick and doll-like had a fresh blond streak down the side. Her body was painted with girlish makeup, pink gloss, false lashes, nails etc. "It's a special occasion, Charlie," said Rachel, inhaling deeply from from the cigarette, "and you should start enjoying yourself too!" She suddenly grabbed Charlie by the hand and held it up in the air as if he had just triumphantly won a boxing match. "Isn't my brother the most awesome guy in the entire world!" she bellowed, her eyes shut tight as she shouted at the top of her lungs. "YEAAAAAAAAAAH!" responded the garden crowd enthusiastically. "There," said Rachel, letting go of his arm as the party immediately returned to their drinks, "need you know more?" Rachel then swayed over to a group of similarly dressed girls, standing outside the back door with a cloud of smoke hanging above them. Charlie shook his head in disapproval and decided to go back inside. The kitchen island was turned into some sort of a bar as people crowded around, pouring and knocking back shots of Jaeger, Tequila, Schnapps and god knows what else. The class smooth-talker, Rob Blake had a cocktail shaker in his hands as he displayed his skills to two impressed girls. "Charlie, my main man, how do you do my friend?" he said, producing his hand for a shake. "Happiest of birthdays to you!" "Mr. Blake, what will you be brewing for us tonight?" said Charlie, purposely feeding Blake's ego as he shook his hand. "Well, it's the simple classic Slippery Nipple, Mr. Smith, at the request of Ms. Alison and her good friend Ms. Katie here. Twenty-five millilitres of sambuca, dashed with the matching amount of Bailey's Irish Cream!" "Happy seventeenth!" said Alison, squeezing Charlie around the waist. "Thanks," smiled Charlie. Alison was the kind of person Charlie considered neither a friend nor acquaintance. She usually hung out with the popular gang at school but she still talked to Charlie whenever she got the chance, particularly in his biology class. She was a very pretty girl with a real, genuine look about her. "Do you want a drink?" she asked, ignoring Blake's showcase. "I don't drink," said Charlie. "What do you mean you don't drink?" she frowned, looking rather confused. "I specifically remember you getting drunk off a few bombs on exam night!" "Drinking is evil," said Charlie, staring over at his mother handing out bottles to the underage. "Not having a good time is evil," stated Alison, joining Charlie by leaning on the worktop next to him. "There's plenty of other ways to have a good time," Charlie assured. "Oh yeah?" said Alison, smiling. "Like what?" Charlie wondered what she meant by that so he he looked at her and panic immediately arose within him, "Oh - no - no, no, god no I didn't mean it like - shit! I meant stuff like -," "Relax," laughed Alison, "I know you weren't being weird - well - you were but not in a sexy way!" "In a sexy way?" Charlie laughed. "Change the subject, NOW!" shouted Alison, beaming from ear to ear as the music grew louder. "I'm getting you drunk whether you like it or not!" She picked up a bottle of sambuca, poured two shots, and lit them on fire. She smiled as she handed it to Charlie who returned to gesture hesitantly. He felt unsure but he didn't want to upset Alison. "Three, two, one...bottoms up!" she grinned. The shot slid down Charlie's throat like icy fire as his eyes stung with the strong taste. "Love that stuff," he said hoarsely over Alison's laughs. One turned into two, two turned into three and eventually Charlie was constantly carrying a pint everywhere with him. He moved around the house, happily accepting the attention from everyone. Even though he knew it would only last for the night before everything returned to normal, he thought, "Screw it! Better make the most of it!". He felt surly but happy as all things bad things temporarily flushed away from his conscience. Strangely, he felt hot and desired a girl but he hid his arousal so well that it was hard for anybody to notice it. He felt a burning sensation whenever he stopped and looked around at all the women, dressed up and looking beautiful. He was concupiscent, feeling the need to prove himself a man for once. The night moved by faster than Charlie could tell. It was not long before everyone had reached the "I love you" stage but the music raged on, pulsing into the walls, moving through peoples bodies whilst deafening the unfortunates who just wanted to talk. Rachel was the centre of drunken attention as she sat across Rob Blake's lap, flirtatiously teasing him. Mary walked around, handing out sandwiches' and hot food to the people in the sitting room as if she were some sort of tea lady. As the night raged on, Charlie felt the need to escape the chaos by stumbling outside into the smokers-filled garden, singing merrily with his right arm around Joseph's shoulder and his left around some random guy who claimed his name was Sm?agol. "...and I speeeent all my money on whiskey and beeeer!" chanted the trio. "Waheeeeey!" "Hey, Charlie!" called Scott Braddock, holding up a cigarette, "Do you want a puff?" "No!" bellowed Charlie, feeling annoyed. "Hey, what are we doing out here?" asked Joseph. "We should be inside with all them lovelies?" Charlie's eyes scanned the garden. The cold night air had gone straight to his head and he felt as if he could no longer stand. His head was spinning. In the distance, at the very end of the garden, he spotted the recognisable Julie with her back turned, facing a tall skinny boy. It was Sean. He had his hands placed on her hips and she had her arms wrapped lovingly around his neck. They were kissing. So it was true. For the past ten days, Charlie thought he may have imagined seeing them together in the shopping centre but there was the truth, embracing one another at the end of his own garden. It was just like the night in the club when he saw Julie on top of some stranger. It crushed him, grinded him into the dirt and kicked his heart in the ass hard. Except this time, it felt a hundred times worse. She was with his best friend and he was drunk, fairly drunk. "What are they doing here?" said Charlie, his eyes aflame and his tone be bitter. "What you do mean? He's our friend?" said Joseph, sounding like an innocent child. Charlie could not do anything. He could only stand by and watch. Despite his intoxicated state, he knew he had no reason to start a fire between Sean and Julie because there was never anything there in the first place. He never met with her in the caf? that day so he would probably never know what she was going to say. So evidently, she never liked him. She was just another tease, a flirt, a femme fatale. "He's not my friend," Charlie said in a dark brooding tone before turning back into the house. He felt so angry that he clenched his fists, ready to punch the next annoying partygoer who wished him a happy birthday. A path cleared the way for him as he walked up to the kitchen island. He was agitated to find that many of the spirits were gone but he settled for his mother's "secret" brandy, which he found in the press under the sink. "Charlie, try not to drink too much," urged Mary, who had suddenly appeared beside him. "Says you," Charlie spat, gulping back the entire glass in one go. He left Mary, standing there looking incredibly hurt as he walked into the sitting room. There, he found Rachel, Kayla and her close group of friends sitting around the coffee table laughing and talking loudly. He immediately turned around, feeling repulsed at the thought of facing anybody. Kayla watched him leave. Instead, he exited the house through the front door and sat down on the porch. It was then that he realised how much he had drank. He lost track, feeling his head beginning to pulse under the heavy weight of alcohol. The cold night air had awoken his senses. He now felt bad for what he had said to his mother so he decided he would apologise as soon as he went back inside. He leaned up against the porch wall and lazily outstretched one leg. The sound of the distant motorway, dogs barking and the muffled vibration of techno music from inside the house made Charlie feel as if he were sitting outside of a nightclub and not his own home. He sighed, thinking about what he should do. He rarely drank alcohol but when he did and got time alone whilst under its grips, he usually started to think deeply about the wrongs in his life and he had a whole lot of them to think about. His cross-dressing. That was the start of it all his problems. He could not fathom why he had to go into Rachel's room all those months ago. What was it about that school uniform that struck him so much that he had to try on? He knew that his desires had been fermenting within for months before that day. Yet, his case of d?j? vu that day in the clothes shop, the pink skirt in the girls section all those years ago. Even then, he was curious, as a small innocent boy just past the toddler age he had wanted to dress up. However, that could have been a coincidental event in his life, yet, he still felt unsure. The thought of being something more than just a simple cross-dresser frightened and isolated him. His crushes. Julie had caused him so much heartache that sometime he lay awake at night trying to cry but failing. Why couldn't he cry? The last time he had truly cried was out of fear when Dave first forced him to put on the uniform. The image of Julie on top of the boy, the same one now, but replaced with his friend, Sean. He hadn't even spoken to him since he seen him at the shopping centre and he didn't seem to notice nor care in the slightest bit. He truly was not a real friend. His family. Mary, the poor fragile single mother, with destructive tendencies and a likening towards alcohol as substance along with Rachel, the "responsible", sensitive and confused young woman. Ever since the man of the house left, everything seemed to be coated with false happy smiles and bright colours but over the past few months, the paint has been peeling to reveal the true nature of their dysfunctional little family. Charlie blamed age. They were all growing tired of each other. He didn't consider the consequences and reasons behind it all because it was just too painful. Why must everything be so complicated with us? His head was beginning to feel too heavy for his body. He felt as if he could sleep right there on the porch all night. He looked at his watch to see that it was just past half one in the morning. He buried his face in his palms, massaging his cheeks and wishing that the party would end so he could go to bed. Suddenly, the front door opened and much to Charlie's aversion, Kayla stepped through. "Hi, Charlie," she said coyly, her hands resting on the front of her skirt, clasped together "Hello, Kayla," he sighed, struggling as he moved his legs to allow her to sit down. She gave a sort of half smile as she sat down next to him on the step. She didn't seem to have been drinking from what Charlie could distinguish. She appeared prim, neat, well kept, and tidy. As always, she smelled of strawberry perfume. "Are you having a fun night?" she asked, sounding as if that was not exactly what she wanted to ask. "It's alright," said Charlie, bored and uninterested. He really was not in the mood for any of Rachel's friends, especially Kayla, the girl who had always fancied him. He knew she meant well but that did not stop him from feeling aggravated. "Look what do you wan -," "I see the way you look at her," interjected Kayla, turning to Charlie. "W-Who?" he asked, feeling he already knew the answer. "Julie Philips," said Kayla, sounding as if she were choking back tears. Charlie didn't respond. Instead, he looked down at his feet, gritting his teeth angrily, repressing himself from lashing out at her. He then calmed himself down, pouring cold water on the boiling plate of frustration, "I don't like her anymore." He could not believe he was telling Kayla, of all people, his feelings. "Anymore?" said Kayla, her eyes constantly on Charlie. "I'm not going to ask why because that's none of my business." Charlie scoffed at this as he shook head. "But it's obvious why. It's because she is with Sean, your best friend, isn't it? It pains you to look at them together." "Why are you here?" Charlie blurted out impatiently. "To make me feel worse by listing out - out everything! Can't you see I came out here to get away from that?!" "I'm here because I know how you feel," said Kayla, placing her hand on his lap. He immediately pulled away, "I have to pee," he said before standing up and slamming the door behind him. He marched up the stairs, down the hallway and into the bathroom, leaving the door wide open. He aggressively unzipped his jeans and started to urinate. He wasn't sure if he was angry at Kayla or Julie. He was too drunk to comprehend that it was most likely the latter. When he was done, he went to the washbasin and soaked his hands in warm soapy water. He nearly jumped when he seen Kayla leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed and an expression of slight anger. She had followed him. "Were you watching me pee?" said Charlie, feeling a little startled. "I know how you feel about Julie because I experience the same thing every single day at school when I see you look at her," she said shakily, her eyes bulging with expression. "You - you look at me?" said Charlie, grinning for all the wrong reasons as he dried his hands with a towel. "Don't you see what I'm trying to tell you here?" said Kayla, walking into the bathroom with her arms crossed. "You don't have to tell me a single thing, Kayla," said Charlie, walking by her and leaving the bathroom. "You must think me an idiot if you believe I hadn't noticed your liking for me all these years!" Kayla stood in the middle of the brightly lit bathroom as she listened to Charlie's echoed footsteps going fainter down the hallway. Her eyes were aflame with burning tears as she swung around and strutted down the corridor after him. "You ARE an idiot, Charlie!" she shouted. "You push the ones who actually care about you away so you can spend your time chasing fantasies!" she bellowed, walking right up to his face. Charlie, shocked by this sudden outburst marvelled at her hurtful eyes. "Because when people actually care, they HAVE to matter and when they matter it becomes a problem for you!" cried Kayla, repeating the words of Rachel. She was standing rather close to Charlie, too close. He could literally count her lashes, coated with dark mascara. Her lower lip was trembling and her eyes seemed to be sparkling with bottled up tears. He felt strange, attracted, captivated, and quite surprisingly, a little turned on. He didn't know what to say. All he could do was concentrate on the warm itch inside his thigh. "Well say something!" said Kayla, looking exasperated. "You want to kiss me right now, don't you?" said Charlie, trying not to smile. "W-What?" she stuttered, taking a step back. "You always want to kiss me, am I right?" repeated Charlie, playfully trying to pluck an answer from Kayla. "I - I - well," Kayla stammered, her cheeks flaring red. Charlie had no idea what was coming over him. He was suddenly fuelled with the overpowering urge to get with Kayla. It was as if an inner beast was trying to get out. He moved in closer to her the more she slowed her steps back. She looked a little frightened but willingly lustful nonetheless, "Yes," she whispered. Charlie leaned in, pressing his lips against hers and ventured his hands down to her waist. He was immediately pulled into a warm, soft, and gentle paradise of strawberries and soft brunette hair trickling against his forehead. Kayla placed her arms around his shoulders, letting them dangle freely around his neck. He pulled her in closer, exhaling deeply through his nose as he felt her bosom press against his chest. They united affectionately in one other's tight embrace, eyes closed as they played with each other's lips. All tension, worry, and sexual frustration vented from Charlie's mind as he shared this unexpected intimacy. There were loud sounds of the music and people talking downstairs, merged with the gasps of infatuation coming from Kayla's soft murmurs. They opened their mouths slightly as Charlie tenderly brushed Kayla's lower lip with his own. "Maybe we should go into my room," whispered Charlie. "Agreed," smiled Kayla. Charlie clenched her hand into his, feeling her long, slender fingers between his own. They ran down the hall, Kayla giggling excitedly as they went into the bedroom. Closing the door behind him, Charlie returned to kissing Kayla on the lips but this time more passionately. It was as if somebody else was controlling his body and he was merely the passenger. He let his hands slide down her back and onto her rear, gently squeezing as he pressed her up against the wardrobe, kissing and nibbling at her neck. "What brought this on?" gasped Kayla breathlessly. Charlie did not respond. "I'm not complaining though!" she said gleefully. Charlie returned to her mouth, pecking her a few times on the mouth before brushing his tongue ever so slightly across her lips. He watched her eyes fire up excitedly as she slipped her tongue into his mouth. The sensation was electric for both of them as they closed their eyes. Charlie was practically lifting her up against the wardrobe as she placed her hands on the sides of his face. They moved around the room, not stopping for a second before falling backwards onto the soft cushiony bed. Kayla was now in control as she sat on top of Charlie, unbuttoning her peach coloured blouse and throwing it aside. He was suddenly reminded of why he always called her Jugosaurus because her bosom was quite huge, encased in a tight bra with lace trimmings. With her legs hooked around his sides, she mounted and leaned in, her hair covering both their heads as she continued to kiss him. He felt feverish, boiling, and overheated as she thrust her tongue in and around his mouth. He opened his eyes to see that it was no longer Kayla kissing him, but Dave. His brain could have exploded with shock as he pulled himself out from beneath Dave and turned him around to his position. "Whoa, frisky one you are!" said Dave in the voice of Kayla. Charlie shook his head, rapidly shaking the Dave surrogate from his mind. "Charlie, are you okay?" asked Kayla, lying back on the bed as her chest pushed in and out like a pump. "You don't like being on bottom?" "I'm fine," said Charlie, puffing for air. "The guy always goes on top," he added before ripping off his shirt. He crawled across the bed and opened Kayla's legs, leaning over her as he returned to necking her. As he did this, he placed his left hand inside her thigh and slowly began to creep up her skirt. He continued to kiss her on the lips as he did this. The feeling of her soft hair, the warmness of her lips combined with the smell of strawberries was ecstatic. His kissing started to become hotter and more intense, too intense as his hand teased her leg further. I'm not Dave's plaything! I'm not Dave's plaything! I'm not Dave's plaything! Memories of the cinema date tried to force their way into his mind. The way Dave held him in a strong grip, forcefully pushing his tongue into his mouth. NO! I'm not Dave's whore, I'm not Dave's whore! His hand slipped further up Kayla's skirt and he was almost completely incapable of stopping himself. Kayla's soft moans turned into a grunt of protest as his hand reached near her privates. Her eyes gaped wide open and she instantly pushed him away. "NO!" she gasped, completely out of breath. Charlie dismounted her, rolled over to other side of the bed, out of breath, and confused of what just happened. Straight away he felt terrible for his uncontrollable actions, "I'm so sorry I - I don't know what -," "That wasn't at all like you," said Kayla, looking over at him. "Well, not that - that I would usually know what you're like," she added. "No," said Charlie breathlessly, "no, that was not like me at all, Kayla." He sat up and sighed, looking down at Kayla who looked more attractive and prettier than ever despite her being in just a bra and skirt. He turned and swung his legs off the side of the bed, placing his hands on his forehead. "I'm so sorry. I - I hope I didn't scare you," he said, still trying to make sense of what he had tried to do. "I don't know what came over me!" "You don't have to apologise," said Kayla, sounding untainted. "What the hell were you doing, Charlie?" he asked himself under his breath. He stood up, feeling the weight of alcohol on his head once again. He picked up his shirt and put it back on. "Does this mean we aren't going to continue making out?" asked Kayla, sounding a little hopeful. Charlie walked to the window, annoyed that he had ripped some buttons off his shirt. He felt like he had just returned from a monstrous form, after a horrible wrath of terror. Why did he treat Kayla's body with such disrespect and digression? It boggled the mind. It was something that Dave would do. The flashbacks - oh god - the flashbacks of the cinema date had pushed him to do so but why? "Charlie?" called Kayla softly, sounding worried and concerned. "Are you okay?" As he looked through the windowpane, down onto the dark suburban driveway, he saw the interior light of a blue Ford Fiesta turn off as its owner shut the door. Charlie's heart skipped a beat as he witnessed the head of Dave O'Donnell turn and look at the house. No! Not here! He broke into a rapid run out of the room, skidded along the hallway, and sprinted down the stairs, nearly twisting his ankle in the process. The puzzled partygoers watched Charlie as he slammed the front door behind him. Marching up the front path, Charlie felt in unholy amount of rage boil within the very pit of his stomach. "You have some nerve showing up here!" he bellowed as he aggressively pulled the front gate open. "It's nice to see you too!" said Dave, opening his arms for a hug. "What do you want?!" shouted Charlie. Dave stood in the middle of the road, smiling yet looking incredibly angry and annoyed. "How come I wasn't invited?" he asked, eyeing the house. "Hmm? At least give me some sort of excuse why I wasn't invited to my girlfriends birthday party?" Charlie squinted, feeling unsure if he had heard Dave correctly. "Wha - wait - wait - did I just hear that correctly?" said Charlie, shocked and even a little amused. "You actually think that when you force me to put on makeup and a dress that I'm Rachel, YOU'RE girlfriend?" Charlie had no idea what he was doing when he started smile. All the drink gave him false confidence. "What the hell are you talking about?" said Dave, looking and sounding rather puzzled. "I'm not talking about you, I'm talking about your sister, Rachel!" The smile immediately vanished from Charlie's face as he stared at the lunatic before him. "You really think that was Rachel helping you study every Friday evening leading up to the summer exams? Do you honestly believe that was her with you in the cinema ten days ago? You seriously think that you're still going out with her even though she clearly wanted you out of her life after to you revealed yourself to be nothing more than a sick freak!" Charlie stopped to take in a breath of air the second he ended his seething rant. Dave just stood there, shaking his head as his eyes bulged tearfully. "Stop, please, just s-stop right there," said Dave shakily. He started fidgeting, rubbing his hands together erratically, and fuming with building rage. "YOU DON'T GET TO TELL ME WHAT TO DO!" he roared like a confused, angry, and spoilt child. Charlie, feeling brave behind the fogginess of intoxication no longer feared neither his blackmailer nor the consequences of upsetting him. He felt himself being concerned. "Dave, I know you loved my sister. She probably even loved you too. She did cry for weeks after you both broke up." "She did?" said Dave, sounding a little less psychotic. "Yes, she did. But she has moved on and you should so the same. This has gone on long enough. Please, please end this pointless blackmail so we can both move on with our lives. If you don't accept that it's over then you're going to spend the rest of your life living a lie. This cannot go on forever, Dave, can't you see that?" Dave looked like he had just woken up from a very long and strange dream, rubbing the back of his head with shock as his mouth hung open. Charlie thought he had gotten though to him, but felt that it was much too easy to jump to conclusions. "You are forgetting one thing, Charlie," said Dave. "W-What's that?" said Charlie, feeling out of breath. Dave's face slowly slipped back into his regular, sinister expression, " - that I still hold a very important secret of yours." Charlie was pulled down from his high horse, tumbling back into Dave's strong grip right after he had thought he freed himself from them. There was no worse feeling in the world. "Please," said Charlie, sounding worn and serious. "Please, just end all of this. You're - you're destroying my life." "This isn't some sort of a contact or a - or a clause!" stated Dave judiciously. "This is love we're talking about here. You can't just ask me to end it with the push of a button." Charlie had no response. He had never felt more damaged and crushed in his life. He felt that he had used every method possible to try to knock sense into Dave's skull. There was no way he could continue being his love toy forever. "Please leave now," said Charlie, tiredly pointing to Dave's car. "Nobody must see you here." "I'm not leaving until you agree to a proposition," said Dave, placing his hands on his waist. "Could you really call it a proposition when my only option is to say yes?" said Charlie in a scathing, mordant tone. "My Dad is out of town for four days starting next weekend and I wanted to spend my free time in the house it with you - Rachel," he said, not sounding in the least bit shameful. "I've got a surprise for you." "Four days?!" exclaimed Charlie, hoping he was joking. "Fine, well I'll just be letting everyone inside know what you are!" said Dave, readying to walk across the road to Charlie's house. "Wait, wait, wait, STOP!" said Charlie, stepping in front of him. "I didn't say no! You'll get what you want now piss off and leave!" he said angrily. Dave smiled, looking rather pleased with himself as he backed away towards his car. Charlie watched him, fists clenched and seething with rage. Dave got inside his car, started up the engine, backed up and turned around. He unrolled the window and said, "Happy Birthday, Charlie!" before speeding off down the cul-de-sac. Charlie watched the red backlights fade into the darkness. He was stiffer than a statue as he gazed into the black abyss. He felt horribly bullied and defeated. "Four days?" he whispered to himself shakily. He then turned back towards the house, his head hanging as his heart thumped angrily. Now he felt like crying. "What did he want?" said a quite soft voice. Charlie looked up to see Kayla standing on the porch, dressed and groomed once again with her arms crossed over her chest. "H-How long have you been standing there?" asked Charlie sacredly. "I just came from your room just now to see you watch Dave drive away," she said honestly. "Anyway that doesn't matter, you were obviously talking to that scumbag so what did he want?" Charlie was lost for words. For one thing, he felt relieved that Kayla had not heard a thing but he was still suffering from the aftermath, drunk, tired and angry. "He - he wanted to come inside but - but I wouldn't let him," said Charlie. "That evil, horrible man," said Kayla, wrinkling her nose. "After what he did to Rachel, after he broke her heart." "That's what I told him," said Charlie, his teeth beginning to chatter with the cold. "Don't tell her." "What?" said Kayla, breaking away from her angered stupor. "Don't tell Rachel that Dave was here. It would ruin her night," said Charlie. "She'd be crushed." "Oh, don't worry, I won't," said Kayla, half smiling. "She'll never know." Charlie returned to his party with a heavy conscience. The effects of alcohol were slowly fading away as he returned to his miserable self. He sat on a high stool next to Rachel as their mother brought in the birthday cake to the loud chant of the crowds birthday song. He was so lifeless that he could not even bring himself to fake a smile or a thank you. Everybody assumed he had too much to drink and he was happy to accept that reason to cover his true feelings. As soon as the cake and presents part of the night ended, Charlie went upstairs to be alone in his bedroom. The party continued to drive forward into the early hours of the morning until the crowd shrank and eventually, bit by bit, everybody went home bar Rachel's close friends who were staying the night. He lay awake in bed, thinking about the nights events. The random make out with Kayla, Sean and Julie, but most of all the cruel, callous blackmailing from Dave. The nature of his spontaneous appearance right after such a pleasant experience made him feel both angry and hurt. He pounded his mattress several times, as he tried to think of a way to stop Dave. Appealing to his senses didn't work, displaying his madness didn't work, guilt didn't work. He felt there was literally nothing he could do. At around five o'clock in the morning, Charlie's bedroom door squeaked open as Kayla glided in, tiptoeing in her favourite pink nightdress. Her gentle footsteps against the wooden floor reached the bedside and she lifted open the blanket. "It's just me," she whispered softly. Charlie rolled around to face her as she climbed under the covers. Her presence suddenly made everything seem warm and radiant. "Did you have a good night?" she asked, moving in so close that her nose brushed against his. "I had fun," whispered Charlie, half-lying. She kissed him on the lips and cuddled up against him, using his chest as a pillow as her hand rested on side. "Me too," she smiled, closing her eyes. Charlie could smell her rich brunette hair right below his nose. He sighed as he tiredly stared up at the ceiling. The night had been indeed random. He had seen a different, more mature side to Kayla that he had not noticed before and he liked it, much to his own surprise. He admitted that what she had said to him earlier was right. He did ignore the ones who actually cared for him. He spent months chasing Julie when it was Kayla he should have been with all along. All he used to see was the ditzy girly girl who irritated him since playschool. He felt his one- dimensional view of her had changed greatly. He lay awake, staring at the ceiling as he caressed the happily snoozing Kayla. Everything that people had told and advised him to do was slowly sinking into his head and it made him feel emotional. He needed to fix his life by starting with the main problem, Dave. He had no idea how he was going to cease the blackmailing after his failed numerous attempts but he felt prepared to use any means necessary. After that, he would stop cross-dressing forever and relieve all of the lies that he had kept pent up inside him all these months. If all went as planned he would continue to work all summer in an attempt to stop his family's house from being taken by the bank. It all seemed so farfetched and technically impossible but he knew he was starting on the right path to ridding himself of his demons. He felt passionate, alive, and driven. He was no longer afraid. He was angry. A dangerous plan carefully formed inside his head as he looked towards the following weekend. He felt positive that he would end the blackmail for good. Dave's comeuppance is coming. TO BE CONTINUED Written by Lily Florette © Don't forget to post your thoughts and comments people!