Making Mackenzie (Part One) free porn video

Chapter One If only he had left early that day, he'd think back much later, if only. If only he had slipped out just three, tiny, little minutes early, and he would never have been caught up in this predicament. And he never would have lost his old life. Yeah, if only. Hindsight is 20/20 after all. It started on a Friday. The weekend was just a few ticks of the clock away. Jon Darrow sat staring intently at the clock on his computer when he heard a knock on the cubicle wall behind him. He glanced over his shoulder. It was Maggie from accounting. She was a young, mousy blonde, with wide thighs and hips, always dressed in pastels, and wore sandals despite if the temperature outside said otherwise. "I know you're about to step out, but I need to ask you something real quick," she began. Jon wasn't about to step out for the weekend, he was stepping out for good. Today was the last day of his freelance contract with Transparent Language. He had been brought aboard to help analyze some of their marketing skills and strategies. It had paid well, but most of the employees he had found to be stagnant, awkward, and tough to relate to. He didn't plan on staying in touch with any of them. He was twenty-seven, had done the whole four year stint in college, the entry level gigs and had gotten work right away, which was more than his peers were doing or had done for themselves. He prided himself on that and on his independence. "It'll have to be quick," he said. "I'm sort of in a rush here." Maggie gave a tight smile, then shuffled further into the cube. He inhaled her strong perfume as she drew closer. "So, a couple of us are doing a... thing for Todd." "Who?" Maggie frowned. She was so used to being the social butterfly, Jon thought, that it would never dawn on her that someone might not know someone else in the office. "C'mon, you know. Todd." She hung on the last 'D' in Todd as if that was supposed to jog his memory. He wanted this over with so he just nodded like the extra enunciation had worked. "Anyway," she said. "Todd has been really down the last few weeks since his divorce got finalized. Just really mopey and sullen. Not like Todd at all. So, a few of us were thinking it would be great if he went on a date. Y'know, put himself back out there." She paused as if this was all making perfect sense, but Jon was lost. "Okay..." he replied. "Are you asking me to go out with him or --" "No, lord no." Melanie said with her little chortle. "I'm going around to a few people in the office that are around Todd's age that might know of someone who is single that they'd be okay setting him up with." Jon rubbed a hand down his face. Leave it to someone like Melanie to try to fix someone else's love life. He had though, for a brief second, thought Melanie was asking him to go on a date with Todd. Jon was used to most women or just people in general assuming he was gay. He was short, well for a guy he was at five-foot-seven. He was thin, had a fair complexion with light freckles on his face and reddish brown hair. This isn't why women assumed he was gay. Jon was the nice guy, often overlooked by women because most wanted to date men who were taller and more muscular than himself. So, he often got pigeoned holed as the "friend." The one asked for advice on dresses, what this text from a potential boyfriend meant, the one who'd hang out and watch movies all night but never get the kiss. Because of this, most women assumed he was gay partly due to the fact that there was never a woman in his life he was dating. They never suspected it was because he was often falling for the girl who was friend-zoning him at the time. "To be honest, no one is really coming to mind," Jon said. "Sorry I can't help." He started up from his chair, hoping that that would give her the hint to see her way out of his cubicle. "What about your cousin? The cute one that was moving back this way." Jon held in a sigh. Melanie was referring to his cousin Mackenzie, who had had the misfortune of meeting Melanie a few months ago. She had been on a rare visit back home when Melanie had interrupted their lunch together at the sub shack that was close to the office. Melanie had wrongly assumed Mackenzie was Jon's sister as it often happened since the two were close in age and shared similar facial features. In typical Melanie fashion she had blabbed both their ears off and had gotten out of Mackenzie that she might be moving back home after things had gone sour with the guy she had moved to Arizona for. "No," Jon said. "I think she's still seeing someone." That was a bit of a white lie. Mackenzie, as far as he knew, was not seeing anyone, and had only fallen in love with the warm weather in Arizona compared to the bipolar weather of New England where Jon and she had grown up. "Hopefully not that creep she was with," Melanie said. "Well, leave me her number anyway, I could get in touch, maybe a nice night on the town will change her mind." Jon almost laughed out loud at the audacity of this woman. He was starting to feel bad for Todd that Melanie was going around, unbeknownst to him, gathering numbers for some blind date rogues gallery. He grabbed a yellow sticky off his desk and wrote a number down. It was the number to his favorite Chinese take-out spot. He knew Melanie wouldn't recognize it and even if she or Todd called it weeks from now they'd just assume he wrote it down wrong by accident and he'd be long gone by then. "Thanks," she said. "And if you think of anyone else, you just let me know." "Will do," he said as he scooted past her on his way out of the cubicle. He couldn't be happier to leave this place behind. Chapter Two Jon was stepping out of the elevator onto his floor for his apartment when he bumped into Clara on her way out for the evening. "Happy Friday," she said. "And happy last day selling out to the man." "Thanks," he replied with a smile and held his fist up and they exchanged fist bumps. A gesture they often did because of how ridiculous it was. For the last two years Clara had lived in the apartment directly across from his, and as his track record often dictated, he developed a quick friendship with her only to realize she had no intention of there being anything more. He took that realization with Clara much easier than he did with most. He liked her, but she was never really much his type, mainly because he had, in the beginning, found himself too intimidated by how forthcoming she was. She was all attitude, sass, and had more balls than most men. She was sexy, but with a vibrant look to her that he often felt like a dud when they went out for drinks. She also had, on the rare occasion, brought other girls home for the night. Something that he found so incredibly awesome because of her attitude about it, but something that intimidated him greatly and he knew he'd never be able to compete with. "Like my new boots?" she asked as she pressed the button for the elevator. He glanced down at the black leather, four inch heeled boots that she was wearing with leggings and a tight sweater dress. He gave her a thumbs up. The girl never had a bad hair or fashion day. Clara was a licensed cosmetologist and her hair color and makeup style seemed to change on a weekly basis. This week it was a jet black bob and dark eye makeup with dark red lips. "Try not to be a homebody all night," she said with a smirk and got into the cart. "I'll try," he said, even though he knew he'd spend most of the night in front of his computer or watching a movie. He walked the length of the hallway and stopped at his door as he searched his jacket for his keys. He knew he was a homebody by nature, but he often found himself jealous of people like Clara who just had wonderful social lives. They made it look so easy. There always seemed to be someone ready to meet up for a drink or a night out. Most of Jon's friends were tough to track down or flakey when it came to plans. He didn't have any go to people to call up and go out with. He almost laughed, maybe he should have asked Melanie if they could've found a girl for him. The weekend went by in a blur as did most for Jon. He spent most of the days inside, losing hours on the web or watching TV shows on DVD as he gorged on Chinese food and soda. He always felt pretty good about himself that he was enjoying his time off work, but as the Facebook status updates started to pour in about what people were up to for the evening, he felt himself get restless. He even tried to call his friend Dan, but he was taking his girlfriend out. He tried his pal Kevin, no answer or return on the voicemail he left. Before he knew it the weekend had up and passed him by. Jon planned to take a week off before starting his new job at Dynatech the following Monday. He had been contracted to help their floundering sales numbers by figuring out where they were dropping the ball in terms of marketing. He was supposed to sign his new contract on Friday that week, so he was surprised when he got a call from Alan Yates, his hiring manager during the interview. "Hey, Jon." Alan started. "How you doing?" "Good," Jon said into the phone. "Yourself?" "Not bad. Wish the weekend had been longer. Anyway, I don't want to waste your time with small talk, but I wanted to call you to touch base and let you know that we're moving in a different direction than anticipated and we're unfortunately taking the contract we offered off the table." "What?" Jon asked. "I don't understand." "It's nothing you've done. You interviewed great. We're in a very transitional phase right now. In fact, we had to let a few people go last Friday. I just wanted to get to you early to give you time to accept any other offers you might have had." There wasn't any other offers, but Jon didn't say that. He thanked Yates for his time and hung up. A thumping sting of panic started in his gut. This was the nature of freelance work, he knew that, but this was his first time in five years where he was uncertain if he'd find a job in time before the bills started to roll in. He had enough in savings, he'd be fine for a bit, but the real panic came from the fact that the Dynatech job was something he had found back in November when he still had three months left on his contract at Transparent Language. He figured something else would pop up. Dynatech was going to be the backup, but then it became the alternative, then slowly it became the only card he had left to play. Chapter Three A couple weeks cycled through and Jon's luck wasn't getting any better. It was a Thursday night and Clara and him were enjoying a beer watching some tired and trite reality TV show in his apartment. He had filled her in on the Dynatech situation, and she had even been nice enough to ask some of her long term clients if they knew of any job postings. Nothing had developed yet though. He had poured so deeply through numerous search engines and job posting sites that he was starting to see the same job postings in different locations on the web. It hadn't been all bleak, he'd gotten a few call backs, done some phone interviews, but no one was biting. He was trying to stay upbeat, but he knew that after a few cycles of bills he'd eat through most of his savings. "I was thinking I could ask my friend Jonah if he has any openings for paid extras on the commercial he's shooting," Clara said. "It wouldn't be much, but hey, might cover a few bills and maybe you'd get a line or something to say." "I'd take anything," Jon said. "I always wanted to pick up acting again, but not this way." Acting was something Jon had enjoyed in high school and briefly in college, and even flirted with the idea of majoring in it before his father talked him out of it. "I'm not paying for you to go to college to just starve for the rest of your life after you're done," his father had said. "Acting is just a hobby, Jon. You need real skills. Skills people will pay you for." Yeah, Jon thought. Well, I might be starving here soon enough with all those skills. There was a distinct buzzing sound, and Jon looked at his cell moving across the coffee table as it vibrated. Every call now his heart leapt, hoping that there was a new job waiting on the other end of the line. He picked it up and tried to swallow down the pulse beating in his neck. "Hello?" "Jon?" The squeaky voice sound familiar... "Yeah, this is Jon. Who's' this?" "Melanie. Hope I didn't call you at a bad time." Jon felt his face run hot with annoyance. The absolute last thing he wanted to deal with was Melanie and whatever reason she had for calling him. He took a hard swallow and tried to keep his voice calm. "No," he said. "I'm just relaxing. How'd you get my number by the way?" "I asked around," she said. "I got it from Billy." Billy? He couldn't even remember who that was, nor could he remember giving his phone number out. He could feel Clara looking at him curiously. "What's going on?" he asked. "Well, I don't know if you remember, but I was trying to find a date for Todd. Seems like a couple of the other people I had asked didn't take it as seriously as I would have liked." No shit, thought Jon. What did you expect? "Anyway, I remember I asked about your cousin Mckenzie and I was wondering if you had had a chance to talk to her. I didn't want to call her without talking to you first." "No, I really haven't," said Jon. "She's not really the blind date type, Look, maybe you should just let Todd get back out there on his own or use a dating website. There's plenty of those." "I understand," Melanie said. "It's just that Todd has been here since I started and he's such a good guy, you know? The divorce thing hit him hard. My husband and I used to have his wife and him over for dinner every Sunday. I just want good things for him. Does that make sense?" Jon found himself taken aback suddenly by the sincerity in her voice. "If it's not too much to ask, could you please just ask Mckenzie? She's a nice girl and I know at the very least it would give him some confidence to put himself back out there. He could use a night out." "Uh, yeah. I'll see what I can do." Jon heard himself saying. "Thanks so much, Jon. It's appreciated. Keep me posted." With that she hung up. Jon looked over and saw Clara still staring at him. "What was that all about?" she asked. "Who's not the blind date type?" Jon filled her in briefly on Melanie, Todd and how his cousin had gotten roped into everything. "She's still in Arizona, right?" "Yeah," Jon replied. "She was going to move back after she broke up with that guy Brent she was seeing, but found she really liked it down there." "Why didn't you just tell Melanie that?" "I don't know," Jon said. "On Friday she kind of cornered me and I was just trying to leave." "What are you going to do?" "I'll give it a few days and then I'll just call Melanie back and say Mckenzie isn't interested." "But Todd has his hopes up," Clara said with a laugh. "You'd be letting him down." "Oh please," Jon said with a laugh of his own. "I bet he's trying to shake Melanie as it is. He'll probably be grateful that she's run out of people to set him up with." "This is why I keep my dating life out of work. Nothing annoys me more than people trying to set me up." "I should put Melanie in charge of finding me a job," Jon said with a sigh. "If she puts this much effort into finding dates for her friends she'd probably find me work tomorrow." Chapter Four Jon awoke to a loud knocking on his front door. He lifted his head up from his pillow and saw that it was just past noon. The one benefit of not having a job was that he could sleep in as late as he wanted. He trudged through the living room and opened up the front door to Clara. She was dressed in her usual salon attire of tight dress pants, heels and a classy, but sexy blouse. "Are you just waking up?" she asked "Jeeze, it's a good thing I came here with some good news." "You on your lunch break?" he asked her as she stepped into his apartment. "Yeah, I wanted to come over and run something by you, but because I think it's so awesome I want to know if you want to thank me now or later." He laughed. "That good, huh?" "I think it's going to solve your problems," she said. "But you just have to have an open mind." "I'll try," he said. "But honestly, at this point I'll take what I can within reason, even if it's just to cover me for a few more months." "I thought that," she said and took a seat on the arm of the couch. "So, I talked to my friend Jonah who is shooting a commercial for Wally's Pub downtown. Turns out most of the extras are booked, but, he's looking for a couple of ladies to fill a high top table for the background shot. No lines. Just being part of the scenery." "Okay," Jon said. "I think I'm following." "I told him that I had a friend in mind and that her name is Mackenzie." Jon was still a few beats behind. "Mackenzie meaning my cousin? She's in Arizona, is this like a commission thing or...?" Clara held a hand up, and smiled. "You're Mackenzie." "What?" "You're Mackenzie," she said again. "I must still be half asleep, you've lost me." Clara stood up. "Let me explain. So, when I asked Jonah about the commercial I had you in mind and when he said he was just trying to find a couple girls, the first thing that popped in my head was, well it's too bad Jon isn't a girl. This would be some easy money. But then I started thinking about it and I looked on Facebook this morning of a photo of you and Mackenzie. There's a reason you often get mistaken for siblings. You look very much alike. I think with a little work and some effort on your part you could pull this off." "Clara, I appreciate you trying to help me out, but this isn't the movies. I'm a guy. No one is going to believe otherwise because you slap some makeup on me. I'd just make a fool of myself." "It wouldn't be easy," she said. "But I think it's very possible. I don't want to slam your fragile male ego, but with your stature and complexion I think it'd be easier than you think. There's no speaking lines, or think of it this way, you're playing a role, you're Mackenzie. Young, chic, twenty-something gal living in the city out for a night with her friends." "I'm glad this turned into Tootsie all of a sudden," Jon said as he ran a hand through his hair. "Hey, this is a chance to make a pretty decent paycheck and all you have to do is stand around in heels for a few hours. You said yourself you can't be picky right?" "I know what I said," Jon replied. "But this is... I don't know... I'm not comfortable with this idea. What if it's a flop? Or god forbid I run into someone I know there? Even when I was acting in high school and college it was still a male role. I don't even know the first thing about being a girl or what that would look like." "I'd help you, silly. I'm hair and makeup on the shoot, but even before that we could do a crash course. Jonah isn't shooting for another week. Again, you just have to be convincing enough when the camera is rolling." "Can I think about it?" "Of course," Clara said. "I need to get back to the salon, but I'll stop by tonight and talk to you more about it." She gave his hair a tousle with her hand and said goodbye. He leaned back onto the couch and scrubbed his face with his palms. Was his situation getting so desperate that he was actually considering Clara's offer? Ideally, she was right. It was easy money in the sense that he could show up, do the gig, and get paid. He'd just be acting. It was a role. There was something else too. A sort of... excitement? Not at the prospect of dressing as a girl so much, but more of the thrill element. He could really test his chops again. It'd been years since he last "acted." The idea that he might be able to fool everyone was kind of thrilling in itself. He always admired actors who brought a role to life and disappeared into the character. Wasn't this what this was? Sure, it was just a role as an extra, but they were paying him potentially. Why not have a little fun with it? Chapter Five "Okay," said Clara. "We're going to start with the basics." Jon stood in gym shorts and a t-shirt in Clara's living room. After much debating and discussion he had decided to accept the role as an extra which would require him to play a woman. That left Clara and him just under six days to get through a crash course in womanhood. Clara was more focused on what would help him blend in and not draw attention. She had a former roommate who had up and joined the peace core and left a number of items of clothes behind. Clara had him step into a pair of three inch heels. "I just want you to get comfortable standing since you'll be doing a lot of that. We gotta get your posture down as that's going to be the biggest part of the sell job." Jon wobbled a bit as he tried to get used to the height. The pain wasn't as bad as he expected, but he felt a bit like a dog wearing roller skates and was fighting for balance. Finally, he righted himself and Clara took his arm and placed his hand on his hip. She instructed him to tilt his head back with his chin raised slightly. "Good," she murmured. "Just hold that pose... good job." "Where did you learn stuff like this?" She laughed. "Well, twenty-seven years of being a woman helps, but in college I helped facilitate local fashions shows at malls and stuff with young ladies trying to break into modeling." They spent the next few hours working on posture and body language. Clara was a good teacher and Jon hadn't anticipated so much work. She had him practice walking in the heels, which took him some time. He struggled at first, falling a few times or doing a little stutter step to walk, but eventually he started to get it down and felt like he was walking pretty good. Clara critiqued where his hands should be, how his hips should swing, and just when he thought he had it down, she added another piece of having him walk with a purse over his shoulder. When she felt he was doing good with that she had him put a bra on under his t-shirt and she filled it with water balloons and had him walk again. This time it was much more of a challenge to make it all work, but finally she told him he was getting it. Later that night he sat on his couch with a sore back and shins while he nursed a beer. It hadn't dawned on him that the possibility might arise where he'd have to speak. He didn't have a deep voice, but it wasn't female either. Back in college, one of his professors, who he had taken an acting elective with, used to say if you were playing a character with a dialect that watching a video or seeing someone use it live was the best way to pick it up. So, Jon watched video after video through YouTube of young actresses being interviewed as he tried to understand how they spoke and talked with their hands. He tried to push to the back of his mind how foolish this all was. Part of him was pleading: Jon, stop playing around. You're not a girl. Find yourself a job!" But he had to not let himself dwell on that too much. This part as an extra was good money and would keep him afloat awhile longer until something better came along. The next several days John fell into a routine. He'd get up. Eat. Shower. Watch a few videos and practice his speaking and hand gestures. He'd walk through his apartment in heels as he adapted to the new style of walking. When Clara got home from work they'd practice some more. Part of the crash course was giving Jon conversation pointers in case any of the girls he'd be standing in the scene with wanted to make small talk. As Friday night rolled around Clara went over the game plan for the following day's shoot. The production had rented a tiny trailer that was going to be the makeup and hair hub for the focal extras and the commercial's actors. Jon was going to show up early so that Clara could give him the full treatment as she made him over. After that, he was going to be on his own for a bit as he waited on set while they filmed and did a few takes. "I know you're nervous," Clara said. "But I think you're going to do fine. Most of it's mental." "I'm trying to remind myself of that," Jon replied. "I think I'm just nervous how I'll look when you're done with me." Clara laughed. "Don't even worry about that. I make people look better than when I found them!" Chapter Six Production was slated for the early afternoon, but the bar was going to be set dressed like it was evening and even the windows were set to be blacked out. Jon arrived early and found the street corner where Wally's Pub was located to already be a bed of activity. People were roaming everywhere. A tiny, white trailer was parked next to the sidewalk with a printed sign on the door that read "Hair + Makeup". Jon knocked and Clara let him him. There was a full length mirror on the far wall with two salon style chairs in front of it. The floor was covered with bags of clothes, shoes, makeup, accessories, you name it. Jon was surprised to see Clara already looking stressed. "We're going to have to work quickly," she said. "The lead actress apparently tried to dye her hair last night and botched it." Jon just nodded and quickly undressed as Clara passed over a nude gaff. He was glad that Clara had her back turned as just taking his shirt off in front of her made him feel a little embarrassed. He pushed his testicles into the gaff and pinned back his penis. It was a strangely odd feeling to see such a flat front. If it bothered Clara she didn't let on as she slid some hip pads inside the slots on the sides of the gaff. Next, she moved behind him, and fastened a cinch tightly to really accentuate a feminine shape. "Well, it's a good thing this is comfortable," Jon said with a grunt. "Price of beauty, my friend." Clara said as she slipped a black push up brassiere onto him. "Hold still for just a second." She stepped across the room and came back with something in white packaging. Jon watched as she removed two silicone inserts and placed them in the cups of the brassiere. As she was straightening the straps of the garment she said, "It's a good thing your chest is smooth and hairless. That'd be a bitch to shave right now." "I guess I'll take that as a compliment," Jon said as Clara was tucking his hair inside of a wig cap. "Grab that robe and lets get the next phase on the road." He took a white robe off the back of a chair, slipped into it, and approached the large mirror on the other side of the trailer before taking a seat in the salon style chair. "Thanks for shaving close on your face," Clara said as she began rubbing foundation on his cheeks. "This is going to feel a little weird since you've never worn this much makeup before. Just grin and bear it, okay?" Clara held Jon's head tight as she plucked away at his eyebrows. In between she'd stop and stare at her work. Once she was satisfied she started to coat them with something. "Those will grow back, right?" Jon asked. "This isn't permanent." "Shh," Clara replied. Next came the eyeliner and mascara as Clara worked in an evening look. Then, with a small brush she applied blush to Jon's cheeks and started to blend eyeshadow on his lids. She took her time glossing his lips. She had been right, his face had an almost itchy type of weight to it. It felt like a mask. "Okay," Clara said stepping back again. "Let's get your nails looking cute." She crossed over to her makeup case and came back with a bottle of dark purple nail lacquer. She placed cotton balls between each of his toes as she started to do his toenails. "No one is going to see my toes," Jon said. "I know," Clara said. "But it'll help you get into the right mindset." Before he knew it his toenails and fingernails were painted in the dark purple lacquer. He stared in a trance at his hands, with his smooth, and creamy skin his hands looked undeniably feminine. "You like 'em?" Clara asked. "Yeah..." Jon replied. "I guess this is all starting to sink in. "I bet. Close your eyes for a second as I fit your wig. I went red as I figured that'd work with your complexion." Jon obliged as he felt something being placed on his head and the faint hairs tickling his chin. Clara made several adjustments and then he felt the tug of her combing and using a healthy dose of hairspray over his head. Once she was satisfied she had him step away from the mirror so he could get dressed. He was glad that he was already wearing blush so Clara couldn't see his embarrassment as she watched him slide a pair of black boy short panties up his legs and into place. A pair of medium wash stretch jeans came next and he wasn't used to the fit so tightly in the crotch. He also felt like his ass was pushed out on display. "Girl's gotta little junk in the trunk," Clara said laughing and giving his tush a playful smack. "You got some hips now." She passed him a black, short sleeved, oversized asymmetric tee with a rounded collar that left his collar bones exposed. It had a loose fitting waist that flared out to the right and accentuated the tightness of the jeans. He felt better when Clara carefully pulled a knitted snood scarf over his head. It helped cover up his exposed neck a bit. Clara dug through a pile of shoes, but finally settled on a pair of suede and leather platform ankle boots with a three and a half inch heel. He stepped into them as she held them out and was glad he'd been practicing with heels. She pulled the cuff of his jeans over the boots to make them flush. "Now for the accessories and we'll top it off," she said. "Every girl's favorite." She went to a small box on the nearby counter and came back with a rose gold colored Michael Kors watch for his left wrist and a rhinestone bangle bracelet for his right. She gently pushed his hair off his shoulder as she clipped two black feather chain drop earrings into his ears. "Okay, just one last finishing touch," Clara said as she spritzed perfume on his inner wrists. She gave a quick run through his now long hair with her hands and stepped back to admire her work. "Not bad. Have a look... Mackenzie." Jon turned. Clara and him were further enough back from the big mirror that his first reaction was, "Who's the cute red head with Clara?" He went to walk closer as he felt his hips start to sway in the heels. The jeans were tight enough to be restrictive and the reverberations of walking in the heels caused his breasts to bounce on his chest and it was such a strange sensation. When he reached the mirror, he could only stare speechless. It was there he saw the cute red head dressed for a night out on the town. She had long, wavy red locks. Dark eyeshadow. Glossy lips. Nails in a dark purple hue. She was chic, a little sexy, and very trendy. The type of girl he would be in awe of how well she was put together. But now... he was that girl. "I -- I don't know what to say," Jon said quietly. "Is this really me?" "I told you you would look good," Clara said. "You and you cousin could be hot twins." Jon stepped back and looked at himself. He was never a rail thin guy, no belly or anything, but couldn't believe how the chosen undergarments formed such a curvy, feminine figure on him. He turned on his heel and saw how the tight girl jeans put his rear on display. That made him a little nervous. "Okay, lady," Clara started as she passed him a black leather clutch. "Time for you to get your butt in gear. Check in starts soon. I registered you under Mackenzie Walsh. You got this. Just take a deep breath and remember you'll be fine. " Jon took the clutch absently as he couldn't tear himself away, but finally Clara was gingerly pushing him toward the door of the trailer. "Good luck!" she said. "Oh yeah, try not to break any hearts!" Chapter Seven Jon stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of Wally's Pub and was instantly struck with a panic attack. What the hell am I doing?! Ran through his head several times. But, after a deep breath and realizing that no one on the street was yelling, "Hey, look at that guy in drag! Get him!" He started to relax a bit. "You can do this," he whispered. "You're Mackenzie." He started for the vestibule entrance of the pub and the sound of his heels echoing on the cement was a little surreal. It was a sound he used to enjoy hearing or when he did he knew a woman was walking by in heels. Near the front door was a girl close to his age, looking flustered, wearing glasses and a headset. She held a clipboard in her hand. As Jon approached she gave him a tight smile. "And you are?" she asked, eyes immediately darting to the clipboard in her hand. Jon swallowed, his mouth had gone dry. "I'm Mackenzie. Mackenzie Walsh." The girl ran a pen down the length of the clipboard and checked something off. "Gotcha," she said. "Okay, you're at the high top table directly to the left when you walk in. Please stay there and do not move unless instructed. We'll be underway shortly." Jon nodded, feeling his heart rate start to slow. As Jon went to walk past the girl she said, "Thanks for dressing appropriate. I can't tell you how many girls I had to turn away this afternoon for dressing like hookers." He gave a small smile as he stepped into the bar. Warm overhead lighting filled the room. On the right was the L shaped bar with every stool filled with an extra playing a patron. The tables near the bar were filled with "couples" and "friends" out for a night on the town. Jon looked to his left and saw the high top table he was supposed to go to. If his heart rate had slowed at the door, it started to spike again. It wasn't quite like the movies where every newcomer is greeted by the entire bar looking at them, but it was close. Jon knew why too. It was what he himself had done before: A girl enters the room, you look her over to see if she's attractive, then you hope she didn't catch you looking. He felt eyes on him as his heels clicked across the tiled floor toward the high top. A tall brunette (taller than Jon who was in heels) and a petite looking blonde were quietly talking when Jon sidled up to the table. They gave polite smiles. The brunette introduced herself as Margo and the blonde as Bridget. Both were dressed impeccably with great makeup to boot. Jon started to feel insecure on how he was dressed, both of these girls were gorgeous. It quickly dawned on him that he was having almost a female reaction to the situation. He held in a chuckle. Guess this is method acting, he thought. "Love the top and scarf," Margo said. "Did you go out shopping too the minute they told you to wear your own clothes?" "Ah, yeah," Jon replied. "Otherwise I knew half my closet would be on the floor of my bedroom while I tried to find an outfit." Bridget laughed. "Oh my god, I know right? I got the call back yesterday that I was going to be doing this and almost freaked trying to find something last minute." "What do you do?" Margo asked. "Aside from gigs like this?" Jon paused, fortunately him and Clara had been wise enough to plan for a conversation like this and had built a bit of a back story. "I'm in sales," he said. "Though, currently looking to get into account management. What do you girls do?" "I'm back in school," Bridget replied. "I do acting and modeling on the side." "I'm a waitress," Margo said. "Sort of hoping the acting thing takes off. I might do an independent movie with some friends this summer." Jon was relieved that both of the girls were so nice. It really helped his confidence, even if his throat was getting a little sore trying to speak in the girl voice he had given himself. Before long, a tall man, with glasses, a thick beard and a cabbie hat stepped through the doors into the bar. "Alright people!" the voice said. "Thanks for your patience. For those who I haven't met, my name is Jonah and I'm the director on this project. We're going to get rolling here in a second. But first, everyone do me a favor and repeat after me, okay? Ready...? Say -- I'm an extra!" The crowd responded "I'm an extra!" "Good," Jonah responded as light laughter went through the crowd. "Please keep that in mind. You're here to fill the scenery. That's what you signed up for. I expect everyone to pay attention and be professional. Anyone trying to 'photo bomb' or disrupt a scene will be asked to leave without pay. We're going to do a few takes here in the center of the bar and then we'll take a quick break and change angles. That sound cool?" A chorus of "Yes!" Conversation picked back up as the production team finished blocking out the scene. A PA came by and placed drink glasses on their table with what Jon assumed wasn't really alcohol. "Looking good, ladies," he said as he passed by. Jon looked around as everyone was getting into place. He stole a glance down at how he was dressed and thought about how he was being perceived. Everyone was buying it. To them he was just another girl. The thought troubled him, but he tried to push it away for now. He chalked it up to just experiencing something new and different. "Remind me to let him buy me a drink later," said Bridget. Jon looked over as Bridget was gesturing to Margo. Their vision was aimed at two guys standing near a high top table in the back. Jon assumed she was indicating the better looking of the two. He was tall, with short dark hair and a dark complexion. "There's a few hot guys here," Margo said. Jon kept quiet, not really feeling comfortable enough to chime in. Finally, filming got under way. Music was pumped into the bar from the speakers and the three leads got ready to do their thing. Another PA informed the crowd that the background noise was going to be lowered in post production, but to just keep the conversations at speaking volume. Jon started to feel his palms sweat. This was really happening. The next moments were a blur. Because they were required to pretend to be in conversation Jon wasn't able to really focus on what the actors were saying, but it was apparent Jonah wanted to get as many takes as possible. Jon's table was supposed to look like they were having fun so Bridget took it upon herself to say something really off color on each take and Margo and Jon laughed as the camera swept across them. Jonah called cut then announced for everyone to take a quick fifteen while they set up for the next shot. "Finally," Margo said. "I'm going out for a cigarette. You ladies want to join me?" Bridget waved her off, but Jon said he'd go.They headed out onto the sidewalk and Jon was surprised to see how quickly the afternoon had passed. Margo proved to be much more of a pro in heels than he and Jon had to try to keep up as she crossed the street and stepped into a side alley across from the bar. Margo pulled a pack of parliament lights from her purse. Jon hadn't smoked since college, but he figured it would help calm his nerves. He tucked his clutch purse under his arm as Margo passed him a cigarette. She lit hers, then offered to light his as he leaned in toward her lighter. He inhaled lightly, held down a cough, and gently blew the smoke through his lips. Damn, he thought. I needed this. He took another drag and tried to mimic the way Margo was holding her cigarette. He knew that women held and smoked a cigarette in a different way than men, so he stole subtle glances at Margo who was texting on her phone. As he took another drag he looked across the street where a few guys from the 'set' were standing, talking and bullshitting, some yapping into cell phones. A few were looking in his and Margo's direction, watching them smoke. Jon had often thought that when he saw certain girls smoking it was attractive, not always, but sometimes. He wondered if they were thinking that about him and he shuddered a bit. There was another feeling there too, and he'd been trying to process it for most of the day, but when he thought more on it he realized that he felt... well, sexy... There. It was out now. He felt sexy dressed like this and it had been picking at the back of his mind all day. What and the hell was wrong with him? He wasn't supposed to feel this way. But it was hard not to. Being accepted by Margo and Bridget hadn't made it any easier. He stared at the lipstick stain on the filter of his cigarette, and the way it looked in his manicured hands with the dark purple nails. He'd seen girls dressed like he was, out at bars, looking this way and they turned him on. It was a complete mind-fuck to be on the other side of it now. "Bridget and I were thinking about going cross town to grab a drink when this is over," Margo said. "You're welcome to come. This place is probably going to be a shit-show after we wrap." Jon dropped his cigarette on the ground and smudged it out with the platform of his heeled shoe. "Uh, sure. I just have to check with my friend. We had plans." "No biggie either way," Margo said as she started back toward the bar. Jon fell in line behind her, still trying to get used to hearing his heels chalking along the cement. He was nervous about the possibility of spending more time like this for the evening. For some reason it just seemed to be inviting bad mojo to rear its ugly head. The lighting inside the bar had changed as the focus was now on the bar itself. Jon's table wouldn't be in as the shot as much as before. Several long takes later and filming was wrapped to a round of applause and a thank you from Jonah. As the crowd started to disperse Jon saw Clara coming toward him with a big smile on her face. "Hey, girl," she said with a smirk. "You did good." "You saw?" Jon asked. "Yeah, I didn't want to distract you so I hung back out of site. But you looked really natural." "Thanks," Jon said, blushing again. "So, you ready to get out of all that and get back to Jon mode?" "Actually, um... the girls at my table are going out for a drink and asked me to go." "Oh really?" Clara said with a big grin on her face. "You girls having a ladies night or cruising for some studs?" "Stop that," Jon said. "They asked me and it felt rude to say no." "I'm just teasing, go and have a good time. Just be safe alright? You have my cell if you need it." "You don't want to come?" "I would, but I'm wiped," Clara said. "I've been here since six am. I'm calling it a day." Clara and Jon exchanged a hug and he caught back up with Bridget and Margo as they were stepping out the door. They decided on a cab and squeezed into the backseat as the cab took them across town. "I'm thankful for the paycheck," Bridget said. "But damn, that lead actress -- what was her name? Katy? She had four freaking little lines and couldn't hit any one of them on cue." "I think she was hired for her tits," Margo said. "Or she was blowing Jonah." The two laughed, and Jon joined in, again unsure of what to say. "Seriously though," Bridget started, "Mackenzie, you could have done her part." "What?" Jon asked. "For real," Bridget replied. "You've got it all together, you're cute, stylish and confident. You'd have owned it." "I don't know," Jon said with a laugh. "I don't think I was the girl they were looking for." "Nonsense," Bridget said. "No, she's right," Margo said. "They were clearly going for a very specific demographic on this one. Classy gals like us they put to the background." "I hear you," Bridget said. "I think this is where we go burn our bras and dance around the kitchen table drinking wine." All three laughed. Chapter Eight Jon followed Margo and Bridget into a popular local bar called Strange Brew. He started to feel his palms sweat again.This was definitely playing with fire a bit as it was a bar that he'd frequent on the rare occasion he went out. But, at the same time he knew it was important not to say anything to the other girls. A few heads turned their way as they took their places at a high top table just off the bar. A waiter said goodnight to the table next to theirs then swung over. He was tall, short blonde hair, and wearing a navy polo about a size too small to show off his runner's physique. "How we doing, ladies?" he said with a small smile. "I'm Nate. What are we drinking?" Margo ended up ordering a round of margaritas for the table and, though Jon wasn't a fan of the drink particularly, once the sweet liquid hit his lips he felt himself start to relax a bit. It almost surprised him how quickly he became comfortable with the looks as guys his age and older gave the table as they passed through. Then, Jon found himself in a unique position. He was socializing. The girls gabbed on about guys they were seeing, but were dropping the ball. Clothes. Work politics. Drama amongst friends. In a weird way all his time he had spent being the 'friend' to so many girls was paying off. He was able to relate, offer advice, make the right joke and as he polished off his second margarita he was surprised at how natural it was all feeling. "You two are some cool chicks," Bridget said. "Seriously, I should have you over sometime for dinner and some wine." "That would be fabulous," Jon said. Fabulous? Did he just say that? Jon pushed his glass away, feeling that he needed to slow it down. "BRB, " Bridget said. "Allow me to powder my nose." She said the last line with a little smirk as she did a wobbly step down off the high top's chair. Margo grabbed her purse and started to slide off her chair too. "I'm going for a cig, wanna come?" "I'm all set," Jon said. "I'll watch the table for us." Jon recrossed his legs and took in the scenery of the bar as the warm feeling from the alcohol tingled his face. He smiled, more in amusement than anything. I'm dressed like a chick, in a bar, on a Saturday night. How in the world did this happen?? "Care to share what's so funny?" a voice said. Jon broke his trance as Nate, their waiter, had returned to the table. "It was nothing," Jon said, immediately feeling exposed for some odd reason, like Nate had heard his thoughts. "If you say so," Nate said. "I thought maybe you were smiling at loud mouth up at the bar over there. Guy's shitfaced and about to get himself thrown out." Nate gestured toward a older man up near the bar, dressed in flannel and dark jeans. He had the drunk, flop sweat on his head and was trying (unsuccessfully) to lead his pals in a sing-along. "Oh," Jon said. "No, I haven't been paying attention." "No worries," Nate said. "Get you another drink?" "No, I'm --" "It's on the house," he said. "For uh... dealing with the nuisance at the bar." Jon went to object, but Nate just smiled and stepped away. He returned shortly with a red drink in a martini glass. He set in down in front of Jon and slid back almost as if to admire his handiwork. "What is this?" Jon asked. "A cosmopolitan. You look like a cosmo type of girl." "Thanks," Jon said as he took a sip. "Not a problem. Where'd your friends go?" "One's outside, the other is in the bathroom." "Gotcha," Nate said and then with a smile. "I have to say I think it's a bit rude you know my name and I don't know yours." "It's Jo -- Mackenzie," he said. "I like that name, nice to meet you Mackenzie, but it looks like your friend is on her way back from the bathroom. Maybe if you're here still at last call we can chat some more." "Okay," Jon said, unsure of what else to say. Nate stepped over to one of his other tables as Bridget returned to her seat. "Oh, good call girl. I'm feeling a cosmo." "I'll be back," Jon said and slid off the chair. His knees felt rubbery and being in the heels didn't help. He took a couple stutter steps and finally got a stride going toward the bathroom. In the little hallway he had to catch himself and remember that he needed to go into the women's room. The lighting inside was dull, and Jon passed by two girls fixing their makeup at the sink as he stepped into a stall. He unzipped the tight jeans and pulled down his panties, then undid the gaff. "Oh good lord," Jon whispered as his penis slid out. It felt achy from being so constrained for so long. He rubbed it a few times to get some feeling back in it and found it slightly odd to see his manicured hands with their dark purple nails touching his cock. His penis stiffened. "I gotta get out of this stuff," he whispered to himself. "It's messing with my head." He took a seat down on the toilet and relieved his bladder. Once he was re-tucked he left the stall and stood in front of the now empty sink. Again, he was transfixed by the transformation and almost had to fight the urge to hold his hand up to verify it was really him in the mirror. He shook his head to free his thoughts, grabbed his clutch purse, and left the bathroom. As he was making his way back toward his table, he felt someone nudge his arm and he stopped in his tracks. "Mackenzie? I thought that was you!" Jon turned and his heart hit his stomach with a plunk. Melanie. For the second time that day Jon was glad he was wearing blush so no one could see all the color run off his face. She was at a table with two other women dressed suburban, housewife classy -- heavy makeup, tanned skin, manicured nails, pearls and giant wedding rings on their fingers. "I thought I saw you heading to the bathroom, but wasn't sure until you came back out. Oh my god, I'm so excited to see you again! How you been, hon?" "Uh, I'm... good," Jon stammered, his mind was racing in a thousand different directions. Melanie turned back to her table with her friends. "This is a former co-worker of mine's cousin," Melanie said. "Her name is Mackenzie and she is such a fantastic young woman." Jon waved meekly at the table and was greeted with chewing gum commercial smiles from the two women. The one closest to Jon, who had long, dark hair, said, "Love the Michael Kors watch, Mackenzie. I keep trying to drop hints to the hubby so he'll get me one." The other lady snickered and Jon smiled back politely trying to think of an exit strategy. "You know, I'm so glad I ran into you," Melanie said. "Have you talked to your cousin Jon recently?" "Ah no," Jon replied. "Sporadically at best." "Yeah, I didn't think he was going to bring it up with you. I kinda put him on the spot." Melanie turned to the table again. "You guys remember Todd right? Well, he's single again and I don't want to embarrass her, but do you not think Mackenzie and him would look cute on a date?" Jon felt his heart go from his stomach now down to his kneecap. I'm not drunk enough for this, he thought as all three women were beaming, smiling and ooing in agreement at the idea. "I'm sorry," Melanie said. "I'm probably confusing the heck out of you. Before I say anything, I gotta ask, you still seeing that jerk you moved to Arizona with?" "Well, I --" Jon started. "Because if you're not I think it would be just great if you were able to meet a nice, stable, single guy back home here. I'm sure you're anxious to be out and about on the town, a pretty young lady like yourself." Jon went to reply, but Melanie cut him off again. "Look, I know you've gotta get going, but let's do lunch and catch up so we can talk more about this. Let me get your cell." Jon's mind went blank. Completely white. He heard himself rattling off a number -- Clara's number -- it was the only thing that would pop into his head as he knew that Melanie already had his real number. "Lovely," Melanie said. "Talk to you soon, have a good night, lady." Somehow Jon found himself back at his table with Margo and Bridget. He was still trying to process what had happened, but his mind was muddled from all the booze. "There she is," Margo said. "You off flirting with Nate?" "What?" Jon asked, his focus back to reality. "Our waiter swung by a bit ago and left a napkin with his number on it for you. Looks like he has a thing for redheads." "Don't look so shocked," Bridget said with a laugh when she saw Jon's expression. "Do your thing, girl! Stay for a drink with him." "I -- I can't," Jon said. "I should really be calling it a night." "Suit yourself," Margo said passing him the napkin with the number. "Thought maybe one of us might get lucky tonight." Bridget smack Margo on the arm, and giggled. "Alright, let's see if we can get a cab." A short while later Jon stumbled into the dark of his apartment, having said goodnight to Bridget and Margo with promises to stay in touch and to get together soon. He stood in his bedroom, trying to absorb the experiences and emotions that had occurred over the course of the day. Mentally, he was fatigued. In the bathroom he removed all the makeup, the breast forms, and took off the wig. It alarmed him at how odd it felt to see his regular face staring back at him. Next came the clothes which he left in a neat pile and he changed into a white t-shirt and shorts. Jon didn't even remember his face hitting the pillow before he was out. Chapter Nine A loud knock on his door disturbed him from strange dreams. He opened his eyes and his throat was dry and hoarse. A dull ache seemed to be protruding out of his forehead. He rolled out of bed with a groan, and walked wearily to the front door, squinting at the sunlight that was coming through the apartment windows. "Good afternoon, party girl," Clara said when he opened the door. "And cute nails by the way." Jon looked down at his painted toenails and at his hands. He shrugged sleepily. "What time is it?" "Oh, about one thirty," Clara said. "What time did you get back?" "Not that late, I think I was just tired." "Did you have a good time?" she asked as she stepped into his apartment. "Yeah," he replied. "I haven't drank that much in awhile though." Jon went into the galley kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water. "Soooo," Clara started. "Do you remember running into your pal Melanie last night?" Jon froze. He had almost forgotten their encounter. "Oh god..." "Imagine my surprise when I get a voicemail this morning for Mackenzie asking her out to get lunch sometime soon and to chat about Melanie's friend Todd." "Oh god..." Jon said again. "I forgot that I gave her your number." "Why did you give her my number?" "I panicked," Jon said. "She wanted to exchange digits, she already had my number, and yours came to mine first." "So what are you going to do now?" "No idea." "I think you're gonna have to meet up with her," Clara said. "What? Why?" "Well, it's clear she's persistent. At least if you go meet with her you can tell her face to face that 'Mackenzie' i.e you, is not interested." "Just text her back," Jon said. "Tell her that I'm busy." "Jon, she's just going to call you, well, guy you, if you keep avoiding her. Take her up on her offer for lunch, politely decline the blind date, it'll be coming from the source this time and problem solved. People like her respond to stuff like that." Jon sighed. "I should really be looking for a job, not spending money on lunches out." "Now you're just making excuses," Clara said. "That didn't stop you from going out last night, but hey, look at it this way, maybe you can bring up that 'Jon' is looking for work. She really seems to like Mackenzie, and maybe she'd be willing to help or knows a lead." Jon had no comeback. Clara was actually right. Maybe this could be used to his advantage. It wouldn't hurt to at least ask. "Fine," Jon said. "Maybe you have a point." "I'm pretty wise like that," Clara replied. "I guess... text her back and see when she wants to get lunch with Mackenzie." "Will do, but in the mean time we're gonna need to step things up a bit Miss Mackenzie." "What does that mean?" Jon asked. "Well, she bought that you were a girl last night, but that was probably with a few in her, right? Now you're going to be in broad daylight." "What do you have in mind?" "I'm glad you asked," Clara said with her cheshire cat smile To be continued in Part Two...