Night Of One Hundred Bullets: Chapter 1 free porn video

NIGHT OF ONE HUNDRED BULLETS By Diana Kimberly Heche __________________________________________ Part 1: The Corvettis When asked describe it, after not much thought nearly all will say Leona Jade moves like a snake. It is in part admiration of a liquid grace that is serpentine in its fluidity. Where others skitter about unbalanced, teetering in their clubbing heels; Leona was economy of movement, gliding across spaces silently, lighty. Where others stumbled toward their goal of quenching their carnal desires through small talk full of conversational ticks and manic waving of hands; Jade had a stillness about her, a gaze that unwavering met one's eyes. She spoke coolly and evenly. Her choice of words, the rhythm of her voice, while having no true properties of hypnotic suggestion, oft had an effect nearly as strong. It was these qualities that allowed her to draw in men effortlessly, even when they had to shut down the parts of their minds screaming loudly to the contrary. For no one is compared snake - even if snakes are the most graceful, the most intriguing of all the reptiles - without reason. It is a creature which spends it life slithering along the ground, causing havoc, creating fear. The comparison is meant as a warning. A warning men often recognize even as they choose to ignore it. So it was tonight. Leona walked over and sat on the bed. Jonas looked around the modest pool house taking in his surroundings, his nervousness deadened by alcohol and by the confidence exuded by the woman before him. "You know the people who own this pool house?" He was a handsome boy, but a simple boy. She let him park in the driveway in front of the main house this structure sat behind. She had opened the door of the pool house with a key on her key ring. Of course she knew the people whose property they were on. Leona's smile didn't betray her amusement. Instead she poured Jonas another drink he certainly didn't need. She then filled her glass next, no one likes to drink alone. Leona's glass would see out the night untouched however. She enjoyed a drink as much as the next girl, but she was quickly approaching the point of the night that these boys occasionally got dangerous. "You're a very pretty boy Jonas," she all but purred, "I can't believe you are still dressed." He smiled back at the woman. Over the course of the night he had grown accustomed to her straightforward manner. It was one of the reasons he suggested they leave the bar together. She was not the type who would hint at something and not deliver. And she had been hinting all night. "Handsome," he responded correcting her, "men are handsome. Men aren't pretty." Jonas was standing facing her. She reached out her legs and locking her black strappy heels behind his back, pulled him into her crotch. It was at this moment getting a glimpse of the inside of her thighs, Jonas realized with some excitement, that she was actually wearing stockings and a garter. "Oh, I don't know about that Jonas. I think you'll find some boys can be quite pretty. Beautiful in fact." Leona had him in between her legs tightly, and moved her hips up and down to let her crotch rubbed against his. A look of puzzlement flickered across his face for a brief moment. Was that a ...? His body began to stiffen even as his cock did. Where his cock stiffened from desire, his body tensed from doubt. Leona knew what that meant. She had been too bold, too soon with her crotch rub. She needed to move to business quickly. Unbuckling his belt she slid his pants and underwear around his ankles. Pressing her chest against his, she plunged her mouth onto his, kissing him passionately, letting her tongue run freely around the inside of his mouth. It was a wet, sloppy, lusty kiss. She let one hand run through the back of his hair, while the other found his penis straining with desire. She slowly worked it up and down until it reached its full hardness. Letting her tongue slide from his mouth, Leona licked her way down his body, kissing the tip of his shaft upon arrival. She pushed back her raven black hair so he could see every bit of what she was about to do. Licking around the outside of his dick lightly, she suddenly plunged his shaft into her warm, wet, waiting mouth. He shuddered with desire, rearing his head back in silent joy. Leona was working his dick with fervor now; his moaning was in time with each full throated swallowing of his engorged manhood. "Oh, you are so fucking good!" he cried out, his voice hoarse from the intensity of the pleasure happening between his legs, "so fucking good." "I'm about to get better." Leona Jade stood up and slipped out of her panties. "I'm a special girl. A very special girl. Would you like to fuck a special girl in the ass?" He needed to say nothing, his stiff penis spoke for him. She took his hand and guided it slowly across her taut stomach down the front until she slid it onto her penis. His body registered the shock and he tried to jerk it away, but she held it there firmly, rubbing it onto her now growing member. "In the ass Jonas," she whispered again, falling back onto the bed, pulling him on top of her. His eyes were still wide, but his body relaxed into the sensation. She wrapped her legs around his back locking him firmly into place, the dick he was unsure he felt during the crotch rub was now smashed firmly against his. Reaching into her purse, with the expertness of having done this countless times, she uncorked the lubricant she carried and stroked his dick until it glistened with the gel. Grabbing it with her hand, she lifted her hips off the bed, and guided it into her hole. "You boys always act so surprised, but deep down you know." She slid down the bed so his cock entered her completely. He groaned with such pleasure, Leona was certain he would blow his load right then, "Not so quick you pretty thing," she admonished, "we want you to fuck me good." Jonas lost all reservation, guided by pleasures he was feeling alone. He reared back and slammed into the woman's ass, not caring, even enjoying, the feeling of her rock hard dick pushing against his abdomen. With every last thrust Leona Jade cried out in loud womanly moans. Jonas stuck his head into her hair as he pushed deep inside her and began sucking on her neck. He rolled his hips which each thrust now, he was truly in a place of bliss. From the top of the street Daniel Corvetti saw a car he didn't recognize parked in his driveway. He turned off the lights of his own car and putting it into neutral let it roll silently the rest of the way down the hill. He stepped out, signalling his daughter Karissa to stay in the car. Doing a quick calculation, he immediately ruled out the worst case scenario. The car was a small Japanese model at least seven years old. Dan could tell from how it had been lowered and the wide custom tires, it had been modified for street racing. So it was a very loud car. Not something used for stealth. Peering in the car window, Dan let the homicide detective portion of his brain take over. He noted a woman's sweater in the front seat, and an adult size baseball glove, hardball from the looks of it, in the back next to an empty bottle of beer and a pair of size 12 cleats. The tiny back seat had assorted items and boxes scattered across them. No passengers could have fit back there. Dan decided he was dealing with a male, at least somewhat athletic, likely tall, between the ages of twenty-one and thirty-five; old enough to drink beer and within the age range of players in the hardball leagues around the city. Based on the sweater he is with a female, no more than five seven, age unknown. With that partially sorted out, he allowed himself to relax. When he first saw the car, Dan feared, the uneasy truce that had cost him so much had ended. He still wasn't sure who the owner of this car was, but he was certain who it wasn't. Now it was time to find out exactly who is stupid enough to trespass on a cop's property. Dan immediately ruled out the intruders having entered the house. For the past two years, it had every manner of security built in. They were probably around back; maybe even a couple of people having a skinny dip in a pool where they thought the people were on vacation. Dan worked his way through the side yard fence around the bicycles and wagons years since outgrown and abandoned. He made note that the gate had not been forced open. He edged around to the backyard. He opened the catch on his holster, but did not drawn his gun. No sounds of splashing or swimming. Peering around the corner, he noted the pool was empty. Faintly, however, he heard the unmistakable sounds of sex. The pool house. He worked his way to the pool house and crept up to one of the windows peering in. He saw a young man in between two stockinged legs tightly wrapped around his waist, engaged in vigorous sex. Except for her legs and the long manicured nails scratching his back, he couldn't get a good look at the black haired woman. She moaned pleasurably and loudly, not particularly caring to be quiet. She was either lost in the throes of passion or didn't expect to have anyone come home. The boy was pumping away, completely unaware of his surroundings, but from the curved angle of her pelvis against him, they were definitely engaged in anal intercourse. Before entering Dan looked to determine if there were any weapons close by the couple, when he caught a glimpse of the woman's face. "Cynthia ...?" he stumbled back from the window a half a step, and caught himself. For the briefest moment that face reminded him of his wife when she was 30 years younger. Impossible. He shook the thought from his head. It was not Cynthia. He steeled himself, steadied his mind. He was not going to allow himself another nervous breakdown. He must have made a noise, because stepping up again, the woman had moved her head to the side so she could see him clearly. She locked her eyes on his, not flinching, not looking away, but narrowing her eyes with sadistic pleasure. Having caught Dan's eyes with hers, the woman cried out even louder with each thrust of the boy's penis inside of her ass, but the expression on her face, did not match the sounds of orgasmic pleasure leaving her lips. She simply stared at Dan with angry satisfaction. It was clear now. The jet black hair woman, with a face that so resembled his wife in her youth, was not some sign of the post traumatic stress he suffered over the past couple of years. This black haired woman was ... his son Lee. The spell was broken. Dan opened the door. And if by the luck of timing, or as Dan suspected by the tightening of Lee's legs around the boy and the clenching of Lee's ass cheeks - a more guided effort on his son's part to make it happen right then; they both managed to climax at that very moment. The boy, consumed by the joyful tightness of this woman's hole, had no idea of what transpired behind him. He groaned with immense pleasure as he slammed into her one more time, his body shaking spastically as the sperm flooded endlessly from his shaft into her hole. She too came, more loudly, more theatrically, her eyes never leaving her father's, never lessening in hate. Her penis too ejaculated, spraying warm, sticky sperm over the young man's stomach. She slid back allowing his limp cock to fall out of her ass. "You may want to clean up," Leona, a variation on the male name "Lee" given to her by her parents, told Jonas. "My father's a cop. He very well may shoot you for fucking his daughter in the ass. Although he may not have known I was his daughter until right now." "Why would you do this? You're hateful. You're a hateful, spiteful, angry ..." It was the voice of his sister Karissa. She stood in the doorway behind her father, tears of anger streaking down her face. Dan spun on her surprised she was there. Karissa had disobeyed her dad and left the car when she had determined that he would have come back if their were true danger. When she peered in the front seat of the Japanese racer and recognized the sweater as her own, she feared the worst. Leona smiled wickedly at her sister and wondered cynically what kind of cop Dan was to let someone sneak up on them as she had. While this played about before him, Jonas was frozen in a comic pose as if he didn't dare move. His pants were still around his ankles as he looked around at the scene. A man, with his daughter stood in the doorway. He could clearly see the older man's gun. A beautiful, sexy woman, with the counterintuitive sight of her sperm dripping from her soft, limp penis even as Jonas's sperm began to slowly seep from her ass. "His" ass, Jonas thought. I had just been fucking this man's son. This girl's brother. And they were as surprised he dressed up like women as he was. The situation was so frighteningly surreal he wanted to throw up. ********** Dan Corvetti leaned against the stove, arms crossed, his children seated silently around the table. Karissa's tears had stopped but the way she glared at her brother it was clear that she was not in a forgiving mood. Dan held his fury just underneath the surface, not wanting to act hastily on the anger he felt. As he had during countless crime scene investigations over the years, Dan cleared his mind of emotion and looked at the facts in front of him. He began with his son. Prior to his stint as a homicide detective Dan cut his teeth in vice. He had seen any number of transgendered in his day, although mostly the sort that fell on the unfortunate side of the spectrum; prostitutes, drug addicts, the abused. The fact that many could be convincing women was no longer a shock. The fact that his son made a convincing woman, however, still was. Dan may have been unaware that his son crossdressed ? no this was far more accomplished than simple crossdressing ? but he was now certainly aware Lee had been at it for a number of years. He wondered how just many? The ease Lee moved in the black caged heels that were at least five inches, was the ease of someone who spent a great deal of time in them. As was the careful attention paid to the pedicure, a polished high gloss black to go with the outfit he wore. His fingers also looked manicured in the medium length french tip style, although Dan imagined those would have to be false - it would be impossible to maintain those in any male personae day to day. A second look told him they may be false, but absolutely not cheap. Dan noted Lee?s make up was impeccable, heavy in the nighttime club style certainly, but not gaudy, clumsy or ?drag queeny.? His shaved, hairless chest was pushed and padded to produce what looked like well convincing rounded breasts in his tight black blouse. Lee had accented this with a simple silver chain with a small tasteful pendant, which naturally drew eyes to his cleavage. The skirt was black with sequins, shining in concert with a pair jeweled earrings that dangled from his pierced ears. This was a well put together outfit with great attention paid to detail. This was the look Dan recognized from the TGs who moved as comfortably in broad daylight as they did in the night. The ones you didn?t know were boys unless you were really paying attention, and maybe not even then. The most disconcerting aspect to Dan was how much Lee in this womanly garb, with the black wig styled so much like his mother?s hair so many years ago, reminded him of Cynthia. Dan wondered if this was something Lee had done on purpose. It wasn?t out of the question considering the twisted anger and bile this young man carried around with him these past couple of years; in the way he clearly did not care he was caught having sex tonight ? hell, maybe even wanted to be caught. ?You realize,? Dan said speaking at last, ?I?m not going to let you back in my home.? Lee looked up at Dan. ?Don?t you mean our home?? Whether from habit, or to taunt the elder Corvetti, Lee was speaking in a girl?s voice. Dan corrected his son, ?No my house. Karissa?s house. No longer yours. You left for college and made it very clear, very loudly, this was not your home. A college, I may add, where you?ve been barely scraping by in the few instances you aren?t outright failing. Perhaps because ?? He gestured broadly at his son wardrobe, ?you are spending time drinking, having sex with strangers tarted up like some ... some perverted female whore.? Dan bit his tongue. He had not meant to use that word in front of his daughter. He was letting the anger take over. ?You look awful,? Karissa spat out, even knowing in her heart Lee didn?t. ?I probably do look like a whore,? Lee responded, ?since these are your clothes Karissa.? Lee turned his attention back to Dan. ?Are you upset that your boy turned out to be hot little girl who sleeps with all the hot little boys? Is that going to cause the big macho cop trouble back at the station?? Dan fought to keep his explosion in check but it was difficult, ?I do not care if you are gay. If that?s even it at all. Or a crossdresser, although I would caution you on some of the dangers of going out to straight bars enticing straight men like you seem to favor doing. I?ve seen that happen too many times before. It ends badly. Always badly.? He took a deep breath, ?But you broke the rules of the house. You brought a stranger here. There were to be absolutely no strangers after ?? he let that painful thought drop and continued, ?...and you wantonly waved your sexual habits in my, and your sister?s, face without care of being caught or discretion. If it would have been a girl you were with, I would feel the same way. Your mother used to say -? At this Lee sprang to his feet. ?Mother? The woman you got killed?? Dan leapt forward raised his hands to strike Lee, stopping mid swing. That didn?t prevent Karissa from finishing the job slapping Lee hard across the face. ?How dare you! How dare you!? she screamed out. She was crying openly. ?Criminals killed mom! That, that, terrible man and his criminal family. Dad is hero. If it weren?t for him, more would have died - would be dying now.? She snatched her keys from the farmhouse themed key ring holder by the refrigerator, one of the many touches of her mother that lived heavily in this house. With so much of Mom living in every crevice, Karissa sometimes wondered why they didn?t move away from the pain, but her father was having none of it. She turned to her dad, half asking, half telling, ?I?m going to Sabrina?s apartment tonight. I can?t be here right now. Not with him.? Dan nodded. Karissa made sure to mark her exit with a slam of the door. Dan stared at the floor not looking at his son when he spoke. ?Tonight you sleep here. I don?t want you going back out like that. By 6am I want to never see you again. Go find a job, whore around, whatever. I don?t care anymore. I will give you some money to get started, but am not going to pay for you to go back to school and fail any longer. Your college career is over until you can pay for it.? He finally looked his son in the eye, ?Losing your mother was tough on this entire family. You don?t think my heart aches for her every moment? You don?t think I feel responsible? But your hate is too much. It?s destroying us. It just destroyed what was left of this family. I?ll be upstairs. Don?t be here when I come out of my room in the morning. I mean it Lee.? ?Leona? the younger Corvetti said to the empty kitchen when her father left, no one around any longer to hear. ?I?m Leona when like this.? Leona open the refrigerator and found a beer in the back. There was no telling how old it was. Her father was a cop with a tragic life, but he wasn?t an alcoholic clich?. Further, Karissa and Leona may have been twins sharing their mother?s womb, but it was Leona who took all the drinking genes. Leona sat down, crossed her stocking legs, and pushed the hair from her face, drinking from the bottle deeply. Doubt bubbled forth in her mind. What was she doing exactly, Leona wondered? She understood hurting her father. Dan Corvetti, whether he can face it or not, whether it was directly or not, that man killed her mother. But still. Why did she bring Jonas here? There were a hundred ways to get back at her father. Failing her way through school had been one. But why did she bring this down on his sister as well? And poor simple Jonas who thought he had taken home a woman until the last minute, had been caught banging a t-girl by that girl?s father. ?I wouldn?t want to be the one responsible for those therapy bills.? Leona said again, speaking to the lifeless kitchen. Self pity was not something Leona did. She walked up the stairs, heading for bed, thinking of what needed to be done. She walked into her childhood bedroom, quite at odds with the figure she cut now. Soccer players from big European clubs covered the wall, as did youth league ribbons from track. An envelope sat in the middle of the bed, stuffed with money. As promised, Dan had left his payoff, with the expectation she would be gone in the morning. She rifled through it. A few thousand dollars. Nice. But it would not last long in the real world. She was now on her own quite literally with nothing to fall back on but an envelope full of cash. She would have to go back to the college at some point soon and retrieve the handful of her things there, sell what she could. She would need to find a place to live, probably in the city. And a job. If she were to continue clubbing, she would also need clothes. For now, she would simply empty Karissa?s closet before she got home taking everything that would fit. The twins were close in size, so that would mean nearly everything she could carry.. ?Right. Time to start a new life.? ************************* Part 2: Sandra Pazzini Leona knew she cut a lonely figure seated in a corner booth alone in this near deserted cafe. The large storefront window with the words ?BAGELS, COFFEE?, written in cheerful script at odds with the dingy interior, looked onto the sparsely populated dimly lit street. Weekend night or not, most didn?t venture off the trendier streets two blocks north to frequent sad places like this. The only other patron, a man Leona was certain was given the coffee out of kindness by the waitress as he didn?t look to have two nickels to rub together, paid her no attention staring out of the window watching the occasional passerby. It was the first night since being ejected from her father?s home and she had anticipated it being a night of glorious partying. She had several thousand dollars to spend and no short term responsibilities. But it was the long term responsibilities which hung heavy, and drained that desire. She had made it all the way to the west side, but not really feeling it, stopped just a few streets short of her favorite spots. Instead, she found herself here, a place with a plastic menu with pictures of food on it, and free warm drinks for the homeless. The waitress stood in the corner eyeing her. Leona, in her tight silver spandex top and sparkly silver skirt, silver platform pumps adorned with sparkling baubles, and gray shiny hose, looked a combination of red carpet meets dance club; a beacon of reflective light and surfaces. She was the very definition of all dressed up and no place to go. The waitress noted fact that she wasn?t constantly checking her watch, or her phone, meant she wasn?t expecting to meet anyone. The woman walked over and sat down across from her. She put her cup of coffee on the table, indicating this was not just a quick visit to see if Leona needed a refill on hers. ?The reason it taste so terrible,? the waitress began pointing at the coffee they both drank, ?is because we overbrew it and use twice the amount of grounds on purpose. The only people who come here are at night are oldsters who are clearly lost, people getting out of the weather,? she tilted her head indicating the undoubtedly homeless man, ?and drunks who realize two blocks into their drive from the clubs that they?d better sit in here and sober up. The strong coffee thing is a myth, by the way, drunk is drunk. Only time makes that go away. But still, it makes them feel they?re making progress. But the thing all these different type of people have in common is they like their coffee shitty strong. Shitty coffee made shitty strong means shitty taste.? She leaned back in the metal chair, the splits and cracks in the red vinyl cushion scratching against her back. ?You?re none of those things, though, are you?. Prettiest girl I?ve seen in here, and dressed like a star just gone supernova. Sober. And not waiting for anyone either. What?s your story?? The waitress sipped from her coffee, cupping the mug with both hands. Leona Jade smiled at the waitress. Leona was a straightforward woman, some would even call her blunt, and she greatly appreciated others who communicated in the same way. ?Leona. Leona Jade.? She introduced herself to the waitress. The waitress took her hand, and shook it lightly, but firmly. Leona realized her own handshake was weak in comparison, but that was very much by design. ?Sandra Pazzini, pleased to meet you.? Leona?s eyebrow raised. Leona Jade born under the name ?Lee Vincent Corvetti? had grandparents who still live in Campobasso, Italy. She had visited many times and had been up and down the countryside and was familiar with every type and shape of Italian. This woman was not a ?Pazzini? by blood. Sandra was extremely attractive, but in a very specific manner. She had streaked thin blond hair sitting atop a triangular face coming to a point at her chin. Her narrow, spaced apart eyes, peered from beneath full, but artfully shaped, eyebrows; all accenting a nose which was very distinctive in shape, if not a bit small. Her very thick lips combined with a smallish mouth, giving it permanently puckered look. It was a genetic line Jade readily recognized. She decided Miss Pazzini was most certainly a very undiluted strain of Eastern European. But as Leona?s grandparents? disdainfully noted on their visits to the States, ?Ah, America. Such a mixed up place a last name means nothing here. No tradition. Even the Germans can have Italian names!? But that was not the only thing off about this woman. She had a broad, flat, accent, the type lesser skilled English actors use when playing generic American roles. There?s nothing quite wrong with it, no slips, no mistakes, but the brain subtly picks up on the difference. Now Leona was very intrigued. Leona answered the question in her forthright manner, ?My story? Thought I was going clubbing, but now I don?t feel like it. A little too much on my mind. See ? I was kicked out of my house this morning. In truth I probably deserved it. I was a bit of a bitch. More than a bit. But I had to get away from my father. My whole family, really. It?s complicated.? Leona paused, as the scenes from last night ran through her head, ?My dad gave me a handful of dollars, I only have a few suitcases of clothes. I need to find a place to live and a job. Spending my money on nine dollar drinks tonight just didn?t seem to be on.? Sandra face melded into thought. She was not absorbing Leona?s words as a conversational nicety, she looked like she was problem solving, ?I understand having to get away from your father and your family. You wouldn?t believe how much I understand.? Sandra Pazzini smiled wistfully, ?What kind of work do you do?? Leona thought about it. What kind of work did she do? She was a psychology major in college, but with no degree and poor grades. That didn?t lend itself to employment. The only other thing she had done was waited tables. Leona voiced her thoughts, ?I?ve waited some. But if you are rolling through the employment pages in your head, the most important factor for any job is that it is off the books.? Now Leona had really caught Sandra?s attention. She took in the black haired in with her eyes watchfully, silently for a long while before speaking. ?And why would that be? You?re not in this country without a visa are you?? It was a very pointed, very odd, specific question. One that caused a cautious stillness in the Italian who wasn?t Italian. It was a question that Leona understood to be very important to Sandra, even if she had no idea why. She decided to tackle it honestly. ?It?s my penis, you see.? Leona smiled at the surprise on Sandra face. ?When you look like this and have one, you need a job that doesn?t ask a lot of questions or wants ID or such. I guess I could find a job that was cool with it. Over in ?Boys Town? further on the westside, I?ve seen girls like me tend bar and cut hair and such, but I?d rather not hassle with it.? She laughed out loud in surprise at both Leona?s revelation and frankness. More so, she seemed even thrilled by it. She was definitely inspecting the tgirl more carefully. ?Why not just take a job as a boy then? Are you halfway to being a woman or something? Drugs and tits and such?? Leona smiled broadly. She really liked this woman?s no nonsense, fearless approach. There was no tip toeing or dancing around issues for her. ?No, nothing like that. No drugs and tits and such. Although many do that and power to them. We boys in skirts are a complicated lot, to say the least. It?s a case by case thing, and I could go into this whole thing on why I do what I do. But the bottom line is, it is less important now why I do it, than I can do it. And that means I can completely get away from the person I was. That boy. That guy with that family. The guy with that dad. I can figuratively shed my skin.? ?Running from yourself. That I understand too. Okay Leona Jade, I?ll tell you what. I like you. And every romantic comedy I?ve ever seen says having a gay friend is nothing but a barrel of laughs,? Leona was going to stop her and explain how Lee had always liked girls, how Leona only slept with men when she was Leona, but decided that any deep psychological explanation at this point would simply be splitting hairs. After all, Leona Jade had a penis and had repeated allowed men to put their penis in her. Sandra continued, ?and you sound like you have at least enough money to pay for some groceries for a while. I will let you stay with me on a trial basis. Turn out to be freaky drug addict, or this whole boy being a girl thing comes with more drama than I can deal with, you?re out fast as you like. But enough negative stuff, that won?t happen,? It wasn?t a statement. It was a warning. There was some steel in Sandra Pazzini. ?I may even be able to work on that waitress thing.? Sandra rose to work and finish off her shift. Leona ordered the occasional cup of terrible coffee and received it free like the homeless man who remained staring out of the window. A little before two, Sandra shut down the restaurant, saying good by the workers who had until that point been invisible in the back, and shooed free her coffee drinking patron back onto the streets for another night. Leona and Sandra walked from the dingy cafe, which turned out bore appropriately awful name ?Abe?s?, down the street several blocks toward where Sandra said her apartment was. She had changed out of her black stained pants and waitress polo, and now wore stylish jeans hip hugger jeans, an electric blue light sweater, and black pumps. Leona was glad she had changed, particularly into the heels. It dressed up her outfit and and it turn made Leona?s look less flashy. Leona made note of the direction they were heading. Due east. Almost condo by condo, apartment by apartment, the rent of each structure rose in value as they walked. A couple more blocks and they would be in a quite tony part of town. ?When you said a few blocks, did you mean a few blocks to the bus? Because I did drive. It?s just back at the cafe.? ?Nope.? Sandra said, ?It?s not far. And without a street parking permit, you?d be hard pressed to find a spot any closer than where you are. We?ll get you a temp permit later and you can bring your stuff up then.? The pair stopped at a massive fifty-six floor complex with a doorman out front. Sandra walked past him and he greeted her with a nod and ?Ms. Pazzini.? The lobby was large and spacious, well lit and expensively decorated right down to the obligatory chandelier. They rode the elevator just shy of the penthouse and Sandra led Leona to her apartment. When she swung the door open, Leona wasn?t sure whether to gasp or giggle, and may have done a little of both. It was absolutely palatial. A bright, modernly decorated space with an open large kitchen, bar seating, and eating area, split living room/dining room and a large balcony overlooking a spectacular view of the city. Everything was white and chrome and would have been at home in a Stanley Kubrick film. There appeared to be at least three rooms off the main area, one of which Leona could make out was an office. ?You?ll be on the bedroom to the right.? ?How?? Sandra understood the question not fully asked. ?I too ran from my family. But I was only partly successful as they wouldn?t let me run from their money. I allow them to lavish this on me, and they stay out of sight. It?s the price of being left alone. When I said I understood your situation, I understood your situation. It is not something we?re going to talk about though.? Leona understood, and respected, privacy. ?You know I can never afford ?? Sandra understood this question as well, cutting Leona off. ?I don?t think you grasped what I meant. Apartment rent is not an issue. For me or you. There is no rent. You will pay for your food. Which will be fine, because from the looks of you, you don?t eat. If you start making enough money, I?ll let you pay for other things. But this apartment won?t be one of them.? ?Now.? Sandra said, ?A few more rules. No eating the last of my stuff. Particularly the ice cream. And no boys. No girls. No friends. No enemies. No frenemies. No one comes here unless I expressly tell you so. No one. It?s the most ironclad of my rules.? Leona nodded understandingly. It was very much like the ?no strangers? rule in her father?s house. The one put in place because of what happened to his mother, the rule that got her kicked out of his house. ?Okay,? Sandra went on, ?let?s get that temporary parking permit and go back and get your stuff. Because there is one more rule. Also a very important one to remember. I share an apartment with Leona Jade. No one else. That includes whoever you are when you are not Leona Jade. I?ve never met him, and I don?t know that I?d like him. If you have to be him for a short time for whatever reason, I don?t want to see him. Is that possible?? ?The shower ??? ?Your room has a separate shower.? ?Then, yes, absolutely,? Leona confirmed. ?No one here but us girls.? ****************** Part 3: Leona Jade Leona Jade threw the suitcases she had recovered from her car and began systematically unpacking, putting everything away making mental note of each item. She had hurriedly stolen things haphazardly from her sister, and needed to get a good inventory of what she had. Rent or no rent, even cheap women?s clothes were more expensive than men?s, and Sandra Pazzini made it clear there were to be no men?s clothes here. Luckily for Leona she had stolen a fairly broad range of things. Leona considered her situation. She could clean Sandra out, there were some incalculably expensive items in this apartment, and she would turn quite the little profit. Leona even knew a fence who unload the goods for her. The down side was Leona would be no better off than she was now, homeless, still jobless, just many thousands better off. And she was fairly confident she would never get to live in digs this good with just those handful of thousands more in her pocket. But there was more. Her instincts told her, as pleasant extraordinarily welcoming as she was, Sandra Pazzini was not someone to be trifled with. As good as she was at playing the game, Leona readily recognized someone who had the ability to play it just as well. There was something hard, something distinctly dangerous about Sandra that seeped through the silky inviting personality, something Leona saw when Sandra was laying down the rules earlier. Add to the equation the blonde woman worked a minimum wage waitress job, at terrible hours, yet lived in palace of an apartment due to unknown forces that Leona did not yet fully understand. Leona?s new roommate was a woman of complex, unseen, motivations. That lack of understanding and inability to see the whole picture, meant Leona felt she should probably move with caution. Sandra seemed to respond to candidness and transparency. It put her at ease. Leona?s best bet, she decided, was to play it as straight as was reasonable with this girl to see how things shake out. With trust gained, she may be able to get some answers, and the upper hand if needed. The other issue that confronted Leona was a simple question of logistics. Lee didn?t, and couldn?t exist here. She had spent extended periods of time as Leona, but usually only hours at a time, spread over days at a time. Lee had been a soft faced, slight, vaguely feminine boy, but a boy all the same. Over a period of time, facial hair grows, makeup wears thin, and the boy behind the mask tries to peek through. Leona also realized, even with her faintly brown Italian hue, her near flawless skin would not remain flawless if she were wearing the heavier makeup required to hide such things around the clock. She was going to have to move onto to chemical hair removers and leg waxings. Maybe something even more drastic. The hair on Lee?s head was a bit to the longish side - a push against his father and his clean cut cop look - but was not near the length of Leona?s and had the light brown coloring of his father. That would need to change as well. Leona needed her own hair. This meant extensions and coloring to avoid hiding underneath around the clock wigs. A manicure was also in order, something slightly more practical than the long false nails she wore now. if Sandra talk of a job opening was true, this would all have to happen in the next couple of days. ?Goodbye Lee.? It was unexpected sense of relief. Leona was no longer Lee, nor did she want to be. Lee was the one, upon the death of his mother, who spent months seeing the whispers, the eyes that wouldn?t meet his, the newspaper headlines, the journalist trucks parked around the clock in front of the house. Lee was the one who feared dating because, sooner or later, they all asked about that night. Lee was the one who struggled in college and suffered the disappointing stares of his father. Lee was the one whose name when searched on the internet would be forever linked with the words ?slain mother?. Lee was the one who cried himself to sleep over all that had been ripped away from him. Lee was the one with a hole in his very being that he knew would never be healed. Leona, though, was someone created; a ?Jade?, someone who didn?t carry the weight of being a Corvetti. The life steeped in a fear of what happened to his mother - could happen to any of them was a Corvetti concern, not one for Leona Jade. Leona was a creature of bright lights and fun nights. She was a party girl. Leona wore sexy fun clothes and had a great time. Boys bought her drinks, which in turn often bought them unknown, very unexpected sexual pleasures. She was someone who understood how to make people do the things she wanted them to. Where Lee was broken with immeasurable baggage, Leona was spectacular. Leona sat on the edge of the bed, crossing her legs looking down at her shapely legs thoughtfully. She was going to exist around the clock, and it was those legs which had started it all. ******** Young Lee Vincent Corvetti was not much different than other boys. He played youth soccer, did reasonably well in school and had a growing understanding, and liking of girls as he became aware of their unique qualities. But there were differences. Lee fixated on things boys did not, in ways other boys did not. Lee?s fifth grade teacher Jerri Capwell was the woman boyhood student- teacher crushes are made of. At twenty-five years of age, she was younger, and leagues more stylish than the her dowdy graying counterparts. She wore skirts every day causing a growing and pleasurably uncomfortable realization of her shapely legs perched in her wondrous high heels. There was something magnetic about these articles of clothing women like Miss Capwell wore, made more so by being off limits to men. The way the young teacher sat on her desk, crossing her nylon clad legs, made Lee understand he would spend his life admiring beautiful legs. But there was something else working at the back of his mind, something he couldn?t quite bring into focus. But it was in eighth grade sitting behind Megan Flannery, a girl he long had a crush on but dared not approach, that things changed for good. Lee would spend his class time blissfully watching the short skirted, long lean legs of Megan, cross and uncross. He was hypnotized and aroused by the cork bottom platform sandals she wore; high and scandalous for someone that age, but somehow not violating any school rules. She would wile away the hours of the class, dangling her heel until it nearly, but never quite fell off her brightly polished toes, making her arches look so curved, so well formed. Lee was mesmerized. At the midpoint during that year, Karissa, Lee?s sister, talked her mother into buying her a pair of these colorful high platform wedges. There was a winking agreement between the two women not to tell Karissa?s conservative father. But Megan, someone who was as imitated by girls as she was coveted by boys, had blazed the trail. And Cynthia Corvetti, a popular girl in her own time, understood what these small gestures of being trendy meant to girls, even if her husband would not approve. Finding himself alone in the house one morning, Lee went into the trunk of his mom?s car in the garage. Hidden in a box there so Karissa could change in and out of them out of sight of her disapproving father when dropped off by his mother at school, were the shoes which were identical to Megan?s. He pulled the shoebox out and ran with them to his room. At first he wasn?t sure what his aim was. They were his sister?s shoes, yes, but they still held that magic, he could picture Megan?s wonderful legs clearly in his mind as he ran his fingers across the arching footpad. At this point he was certain he was going to masturbate by sliding his penis into the arch of the shoe, like he imagined doing so many times while watching Megan dangling shoe; shoving his cock between her nylon foot and the heel, pushing it in and out until his penis exploded everywhere. But a different idea took hold. Rifling through her drawers, he found and slid into pair of his sister?s pantyhose. The nylon sliding up his near hairless legs, surrounding his legs, gave him a sensation like no other. He could feel the blood flowing to his young penis. Digging around in her closet he slipped on his sister?s school skirt. One foot at a time he slipped his feet into the high arching shoes, hardly believing the result. His feet looked feminine, very good, as good as Megan?s. Only the nail polish was missing. He sat crossing and uncrossing his leg, dangling the shoe. It was different feeling than watching the eighth grade girl do it, but no less satisfying. He didn?t need to wait for 4th period, or be disappointed when Megan wore jeans, or different shoes. He could recreate the effect just as enticingly himself. He stood in the heels moving forward. They were somewhat difficult to walk in, but not nearly as hard as it looked when guys did it for laughs on television. Standing before the mirror he looked at himself. His entire bottom half looked completely like that of a young school girl. He was compelled to see how far the illusion could be carried. Shedding his shirt quickly, he went back to his sister?s drawer, trying on her bra. This, unlike the heels, was a very difficult task. After several failed attempts to clasp it on his back, he realized he could wear it backward, clasp in on his chest and simply spin it around. Taking a pair of socks he stuffed them into the cups, as it was whispered in school that ninth grader Susan Park did. He then slid into a pink t-shirt from her drawer with the words ?You Go Girl!? written is glitter on the chest. The effect with the t-shirt was a little lumpy until he added more socks, and arranged them more carefully. Without being too overdone, he was now quite the developed little girl. The look was intoxicating, revelatory, and life changing. Not all boys could do this, he realized, some would just look wrong. But for someone like Lee, there was no huge difference, save lack of a bit of makeup and his short shaggy hair, between his look and a girl?s. He had known such a thing was possible, during his spins around the internet and television he had run across many a convincing transgendered, but he had no idea he could be one. Lee strolled around looking in the mirror, each step becoming more confident, slightly less clumsy. ?I?m a natural,? he said, and deciding that was wrong, tried a higher, more girlish voice, ?I?m a natural. I?m a natural. I?m a natural,? Saying it over and over. Each time straining to get it right. He turned back to the mirror, struck his best sexy pose and grabbed his fake boobs in his hands. It was at that moment, with some embarrassment, he began to unrestrainedly ejaculate repeatedly into the nylon of his sister pantyhose. Panicked he slid out of his twin?s garments and rushed for the washing machine. He would have enough time to wash these clothes and get them back into the right drawers. He just needed to be calm and do it right, not destroying the clothes, particularly the flimsy pantyhose. It was important Lee got this right. This was a newly opened door he didn?t wish to close through stupidity. **************** On Sandra?s recommendation, Leona made back to back appointments on the west side of the city known as, derogatorily, ?Boys Town?, although the largely gay residents long had taken to and embraced the name with an amused pride. Sandra reasoned, probably correctly, a wigless, makeupless, boyish looking, Leona, decked out in women?s clothes may find herself the recipient of less than warm welcoming stares in some of the salons about town. Better to have the experience be as pleasant as possible, as it was to become an integral part of Leona?s existence. Leona took some time to get dressed. She knew clubwear, she knew how to make an impression, but she very rarely did casual. Going through the clothes she nicked, Leona settled on a short jean skirt, low heeled canvas wedge sandals, and a plain high collared red t-shirt. Knowing her makeup would be scrubbed, clean, she went with simple pink lipstick and hid her eyes behind large frame sunglasses. Looking at herself in the mirror she found the outfit to be acceptable, if not a bit plain. ?Studio Philippe Barrineau? was the place Leona landed. It was a full service makeup and hair salon, with a loosely associated nail salon next store. The two young Japanese girls who took care of her, Namiko and Yukiko, were an explosion of colorful up to the moment J Pop fashion, and had no issues with her true gender. They cooed and petted and made promises to transform Leona from someone who just looked the part to a woman who lived the part. ?You?re good,? explained Yukiko teasing out and closing examining Leona?s short brown hair once Leona had taken off her wig, ?but there?s so much you could do better. Your brows are all wrong. We can make them thin and arching to better frame your eyes. They will look completely fabulous. And your lashes are fine with good mascara, but we have discreet, false lashes, that will make your eyes so much more dramatic.? ?And your make up,? Namiko chimed in, ?we?ll show you a couple of tricks that I think you?ll really love.? The women went to town as they wove the extensions into her hair, talking, explaining the mechanics of what Leona needed to do to make improvements to appearance. Her brows were plucked, her legs were waxed, a gel which burned ever so slightly was applied in the areas hair would want to grow, followed by a small needle like appliance which burned out the hair?s roots. The entire process took hours and she had not even stepped into the nail salon. The two girls finished combing and drying her hair, finally spinning Leona around in her chair to examine the results. The effect was every bit as spectacular as they had promised. The fine touches to her eyebrows and eye makeup, increased Leona femininity in ways she hadn?t imagined. Her eyes were no longer just there, but beautiful and captivating with their hazel color seeming sharper and enhanced. But it was her hair that was most dramatically improved. It kept is jet black base, but was now highlighted with subtle streaks of red giving it a life no wig had before. Cut and styled in layers with swooping bangs parted on the left, causing her long hair to cover nearly half of her face, Leona was given a mysterious, hipper look. When she swung her head from side to side, the hair moved with a softness and bounce her wigs could never replicate. The girls had performed the wonders they had promised. ?Now,? explained Yukiko, ?hair extensions are just hair. Your hair. You can wash them, color them, cut them. But I would suggest putting your hair up when you sleep, because if you accidentally pull very hard, they will come out.? ?That?s the big thing,? agreed Namiko, ?if you have a boyfriend who likes to pull your hair during sex, well, you?re going to have to get a new boyfriend.? They all laughed joyfully. The trip to adjacent nail salon was uneventful, but highly relaxing. The women working there treated Leona as just another of the many customers, and looking as good as she did, to her she was. As they massaged her feet and filed away at her fingernails, they made small talk occasionally asking Leona if she went to school or had any boys in her life. She realized, sitting there in her vibrating pedicure chair, having the loofa gently remove the old skin from her heels, that this was the first time in her life that she had a relaxing experience being treated as a woman. Being a creature of the night, Leona found herself constantly in clubs with drinks and men, with sexual energy charging the air. It was electric and exciting, but there was always a slight edge to it, brought on by the fear of discovery. Boys groped, boys rubbed, boys grabbed. One hand in the wrong place, be it too aggressively between the legs, or too enthusiastically down her shirt, and the night could go sideways fast. Women were equally dangerous. Those who were catty and jealous, meant one faulty lock on bathroom stall door, or one peep through the stall?s crack, and Leona's secret would spread around like wildfire. But here, she was just as much woman as she was in the clubs, but without any of those fears, and none of the jealous stares. Soothed and relaxed Leona closed her eyes. Leaving the salon, before returning to the apartment Leona took detour to the mall. There was nothing she needed to buy, but it was a beautiful warm day and she wanted to engage in a social experiment. Walking around the outdoor mall, pretending to window shop, Leona observed how others took to her. It was a different experience she had known before. Women walking with their children smiled politely but disinterestedly. None of their smiles hid an agenda or threat of a figurative backstab. One or two women looked at her modest sandals, but always in a passing fashion, likely wondering where she had purchased them, or admiring her pedicure. In the competitive environment of the club, many women looked at Leona?s sky high heels jealous they couldn?t wear heels so high, or judgemental that they were slut shoes, while others still wondered if her heels made her look sexier than theirs. The men at this mall were different too. Many looked, and often looked appreciatively, but it lack the naked carnivorous lust it did at the nighttime establishments. Many smiled, but smiled without motive. And only a very few stared. Leona grabbed a coffee and sat down on a bench, sipping it thoughtfully. Leona Jade did not grow up wanting a pony at 7 years old, wearing Disney princess dresses, or having posters of boy bands on her wall during her teens. Leona Jade had not passed notes about boys in school, or had never had close girlfriend to confide in. The Leona Jade that existed as she did now was born fully formed in the competitive environment nightclub, learning how to manipulate people as a matter of pleasure and survival. The nail salon and this simple stroll through normal life told Leona that perhaps she didn?t fully understand life as a woman as well as she thought she did. The few years she had been Leona, there were entire ranges of experiences Leona?s never had. Passing convincingly as a woman in one part of life didn?t necessarily mean passing convincingly in all. A job. A roommate. A new life. These were potentially long term commitments with long term relationships. If she were to not only survive them, but to thrive in them, Leona understood that she may need to accept that it may be time to begin learning again. To accept women were something other than competition to be ?one upped? by the tgirl. ******************* It wasn?t until 11th grade that young Lee Corvetti finally considered asking Megan Flannery out. ?Sure. I know her,? Karissa answered, smiling at her brother teasingly as they sat at the kitchen table doing homework. Cynthia Corvetti cooked in the background studiously pretending not to hear. Her children seemed to have bought it, because they spoke as if she were not there. ?Megan Flannery. Pretty. Popular. The girl you?ve spent every day of the past 4 years gawking at? Yeah, I talk to her enough. Nice girl. Mostly of our conversations have to do with how you?re actually okay and not the love sick puppy you appear to be.? ?Karissa!? Dan shouted not certain if she was in fact teasing. Upon hearing his mother laugh as well, he shouted her name as well ?Mom!? Cynthia turned down the fire under the meat sauce, came and sat down next to her son. ?No one wants to hear their mother tell them anything about girls,? Cynthia began, ?It?s uncomfortably and more than a bit icky. I get that. But before we were moms, we were girls your age. So humor me. I have feeling you?re thinking of asking this girl out?? ?Maybe? Lee responded. ?Most definitely.? Karissa added. His mother ruffled the boy?s hair lovingly with her hand. ?Here?s the one thing to understand. When you ask a girl out, she may actually say ?no?. And I?m telling you as a girl, that there can be one hundred reasons for that ?no?, and maybe none of them have anything to do with who you are. Since you can?t know, you shrug it off and ask the next girl.? She smiled at her son, ?But its not a balanced equation. If she says ?yes? on the other hand, then you can be sure it has everything to do with you. That?s why it?s worth asking.? Karissa laughed at the truthfulness of the statement. ?That doesn?t make any sense Mom.? Lee responded, but was now laughing too. ?It makes perfect sense, doesn?t it Karissa? It?s just we women are too complicated to understand in your tiny man brain.? His mom had that way, of seeing all that was good; showing the upside in everything. He made up his mind, he would ask Megan out tomorrow. The following morning Megan Flannery let Lee down with the practiced grace of a well raised girl who hears a variation of the ?do you want to see a movie, or something, with me, maybe, if you want to? question repeatedly. She tried to remove any potential embarrassment, flatter Lee, but definitively dismiss him as a potential suitor as kindly as possible. But Lee recognized it for what it was, and felt hurt and humiliated, even with Megan?s expert touch in trying to try to eliminate both of those feelings. Detecting this, almost as an afterthought Megan added, ?I would just love if you could join some of us Friday. There?s a bar a bunch of us go to, Creations, that new bar. They?re super strict on carding boys, but a lot of the girls walk straight in without an ID. I think the bouncer?s a bit of a ped, but that?s okay he leaves us alone. So if you can get a fake ID in a couple of days, I?ll see you there. It?ll be awesome spending time with you. I?d really like to get to know you better.? It was brilliantly crafted work of art. She let Lee down, then invited him to spend some time with her doing something extremely cool in the eyes of an eleventh grader: hit a fashionable bar with the ?in crowd? at school. The built in catch was he wouldn?t be able to join her at all. And she likely knew it. The barrier of entry was nigh on impossible. Obtaining a good fake ID for this suburban boy in two days just couldn?t be done. And even if it were possible, it carried a high risk; the features that, with help, could make him look like a convincing young woman, were the same features that made him look like an exceptionally young man. Any ID he carried was certain to get the full infrared inspection. All of this was compounded by the fact he was a cop?s son. There was another way for Lee to get in, but it would certainly preclude him from spending time with Megan and her friends. It also required planning and more nerve than he knew he had in him. But, in spite of himself, he was still thinking about it. More than thinking about it, actually. In the three years since Lee had first tried on those wonderful platform shoes of his sister?s, he donned female garb every moment he had the chance. As a police detective, his father was out of the house for very long stretches, and his mother had a life of her own, including not infrequent trips to see her parents in Italy. In addition to frequency, a great deal of skill had been added to Lee?s forays into femininity. User uploaded video sites had taught Lee things he had not thought remotely possible when he began. Simply typing in the words ?male to female transformation? pulled up countless videos of boys and men taping, tugging, pulling and padding their bodies into formidable female shapes. Men with not a ounce of fat on their chests could create cleavage which peeked out low cut tops. Hips and waist were created with even more ease. Add more than a bit of skilled make up, each step painstakingly laid out in these endless tutorials, Lee witnessed average looking boys turned into reasonably attractive girls. Lee had been ordering an untold number of items over the internet to move him along in his new found ?hobby? as he laughingly referred to it internally. Each day he rushed home from school in a panic that someone in his family would reach the delivered package first, leaving him to explain the need for silicone breast pads, pantyhose, waist cinchers or increasingly higher heels in his size. At this point Lee no longer needed the tutorials running on the laptop as he sat in front of his mother?s makeup mirror. The mirror was enough. He knew his face, his strengths and weaknesses, what to emphasize and de- emphasize. He learned which clothes were most functional with which padding to prevent slipping or something far worse that would give himself away. He learned to accessorized. Lee didn?t just know how to look like a woman, he felt he could act the part as well. The key, the instruction and subsequent practice told him over and over, was in the small details, not the broad strokes. Make the strokes too broad and it becomes caricature - over the top drag queen camp - forgo the female mimicry too much, then it looks to the world like a boy wearing a dress. The real question was, having never gone beyond the confines of his bedroom, was Lee ready to present himself to the world as a girl in an environment as tricky as a club? An environment which would make him highly nervous as an underage kid even without being in women?s clothes. As illogical as it was, as much as babysteps into his ?hobby? was the prudent form of action, Lee made up his mind. He was going to Creations. He just needed to work out the logistics. From the moment he woke up Friday and throughout the day, Lee?s stomach was churning with butterflies. It was a nervousness not unknown to him, he got them anytime he knew he was going to have to speak publicly. But the duration and intensity of this spell was new. Unlike the former type of nervousness, however, there was an excitement blended in giving it an entirely different feel. Making the entire process more nerve wracking, Lee would have to somehow get dressed in his house, sneak out and get to the club. Sneaking out of the window would be easy enough, he was on the first floor and had done it before. But at some point, a fully female version of Lee would need to be created with nothing standing between him and discovery by anyone in his family but an unlocked bedroom door. And, he would need to sneak back into the window, scrub every trace of woman from him, by breakfast. All very tall hurdles, and ones unsolved by Lee even as the school day ended. Lee arrived home greeted by his mother. His excitement and nervousness of earlier in the day subsided as he came to the growing realization his plan was not to be. As much as he felt he could make it work earlier, realistically thinking it through there were far too many things which only needed to go slightly wrong for everything to go completely wrong. It wasn?t a plan so much as wish which was full of holes. Giving up. He threw his backpack on the kitchen table eating the cheese on salami snacks Cynthia provided. ?Not that it is any of my business,? his mother said, ?but from that long look on your face, I take it you had a tough day at school? Is it that girl. Megan Flanagan?? ?Flannery, Mom. Megan Flannery. Yeah, it sort of is.? Cynthia sat down next to her son. She could see he was crestfallen. ?So asking her out didn?t go the way you wanted it to? As I said, you?re a lovely boy. I?m sure it had nothing to do with who you are.? ?Oh. Yeah. Megan was really nice,? Lee said honestly. Looking at his mother?s open caring face, a spark of an idea formed in his mind. As much as he hated to, he lied to his mother, ?She said she wanted to get to know me better first. Invited me to a party.? Cynthia smiled radiantly, ?Well that?s wonderful.? Lee looked up at her, his expression still downcast. ?Not wonderful Mom. Not this party. You and dad - especially dad - would never let me go. It?s not in the neighborhood, it?s down near the convention center. And ...? Lee took a mental deep breath he hoped didn?t show, ?It?s a costume party of sorts. Less costume party than all the guys show up in drag, actually. Megan called a ?She and Shes? party or something silly,? Lee threw in that last made up detail about the name, hoping it gave it a legitimacy to his fiction. He continued, ?Dad would never let me go. Not out there. Not dressed like that.? Cynthia looked at her son, but not in the way he?d expected. ?How much do you like this girl?? She asked after a long contemplative pause. ?A lot. She?s great.? Cynthia seemed to make up her mind, ?leave your dad to me.? ?And Karissa?? ?Leave her to me as well. In fact, thinking about ?. your father hasn?t visited his mother in quite some weeks and she?s been calling me every day trying to get him up there. Since he has some rare time off, I think with nothing planned it is the perfect time. In fact, I think I?ll insist on it. But you and I will have to catch up to them tomorrow morning if I am to help you with your science project tonight.? ?.... Science project ?? Lee repeated slowly. He had seen this side of his mother before. He got several inklings that his mother good naturedly subverted their dad?s iron clad rules. In fact, the platform wedges shoes which set Lee down this very path, sat in the trunk of her car for two years to keep their father from knowing his daught