Caught In A Good Romance, 8 Of 10 free porn video

© Copyright 2013, by Leslie P. Lowe. All rights reserved. [email protected] Caught in A Good Romance, 8 of 10 By Leslie Lowe Chapter 8 Lance's receptionist answered. I gave her my name. When she heard it, she said her boss was expecting my call and asked me to please hold. "Hi, Kim. Good to hear from you so soon." "I didn't think it was fair to keep you hanging." "About the gift and the date?" "Yes," I said, looking at my girl self wearing my beautiful diamond studs in the mirror, my sundress baring what could only be a girl's shoulders. "My answers are yes and yes, but--" "Great!" Lance shouted into the phone. "That's the best news I've had since Forest Brothers caved in on the merger!" "What?" I asked. "Never mind, Kim. Thanks for giving me a chance, an old man like me, when you could have anybody, boy or girl." "That's so sweet!" I said, "but thirty-three is not old!" "Glad to hear you say that." "There are conditions," I said. "Yeah?" "Yes. I want you to understand that I have not decided if I can be a girl out on the town and so on, like full-time? Not to mention the really private stuff like--well--you know." "Hey, I understand," he said with a beautifully accepting tone of voice. "We are both trying this out. I'm not sure either. You know, I talk a lot. But the truth is I left the crazy sh--uh, stuff--behind in prison. I just tell stories to give my friends a thrill, like Elliott. But you caught me off guard, girl. You stole my heart." "I did?" Oh God, that sounded so sweet! "You did. And now I'm determined to win yours, or prove to both of us that this is just too fucking weird--you know?" "Yes, Lance. I'm beginning to see now. You're as scared as I am, aren't you?" "Maybe," he said. "But not enough to stop me. I have the money to tell people to get--uh-- screwed if they don't like it. It's not a crime." "No, it's not," I said. "And Lance, will you please stop worrying about your language around me? I hear you talking to other people that way, and I grew up around boys, so I'm not unaware of the bad words." "Yeah, okay. I'll try. But you're such a lady, you know what I mean?" "Thank you," I said, feeling a tingle of pleasure below my tummy at being put in my place. "I'm beginning to believe it too!" "I've got to ask you something, Kim." "Yes?" "You're not doing this because Elliott and Samantha are telling you to do it, paying you to do it, are you?" "No," I said, trying to affect a light and musical tone to reassure him. "I'm not a whore." He laughed. "I believe you. You were too hard to convince! Sorry about that, but I had to know." "No problem," I said. "I had to know too, and that's why it took three days, because I wanted to speak with them about it." "Right. So when can I see you?" "I'm not busy tonight," I said, smiling at him over the phone and at my girlish self in the mirror. So fun! "It's a date!" he said. "How about I pick you up at seven?" "What should I wear?" "Anything you want," he said. "Thank you," I said. "But I mean, where are we going?" "Just to Roscoe's again. Nothing special. Except my date. She's very special!" "Thank you, Lance! That's so sweet. I think I'll dress up a bit for my man." "I was hoping you'd say that." "I'm glad you approve." "Good bye now, my love." "Bye, Lance." He hung up. And I cried, over nothing and everything. I suppose I was just so happy and excited to be coming home to myself. # # # At Roscoe's that night, we were sitting at a nice central table enjoying each other while attracting no more attention than any other couple. Lance was just being himself, making jokes and telling stories about his life and his business. He told me about his first prison girlfriend and how appreciative "she" had been and how he, the former girlfriend, was out of prison now and living a good life in San Francisco as an interior decorator's assistant. His boss was his mate, and they were a wild pair, lots of fun to be with, and very good at their work. "I'd like to use them for my new home here. They just do residential." "So interesting!" I said, sipping my Dr. Loosen riesling, which was too sweet for Lance but perfect for me. I saw the crescent left by my lipstick on the glass, somehow a charming sight to me, a reminder of who I really was deep in my heart. Was my awe or respect--or whatever it was--for this wonderful man, was it changing me already? Lance explained the gay couple's situation. "So anyway, to make a long story short, the ex-girlfriend is definitely a guy now, an obviously gay one, and he loves his lifestyle. He also appreciates my earlier favors and the protection I gave him in prison, when he was young and vulnerable and didn't even know yet he was gay." "What a great story!" I said. "It should be a movie!" "Yeah, right. For an audience of about three? But who cares? He's happy. We can stop by and see him and his partner when we go to San Francisco if you want. I've invested in their business, so it's deductible." "I'm so glad we can save on the taxes!" I said. "But seriously, I'd love to meet them, because I love a story with a happy ending." And, I was thinking, I've never been to San Francisco! In my slightly tipsy state, visions of exotic travel in Lance's corporate jet danced in my mind. "Yeah, I'm into happy endings too." Lance looked at me, saying nothing. His expression was very thoughtful for a moment. "Do you identify with him?" "What do you mean?" "Do you think maybe you'll end up just becoming another gay guy one day?" "I'm sorry, Lance, but I doubt it. I'm not looking for a boyfriend. I'm just exploring this, following your lead. I've never been attracted to men before, but--well--you're different, and--" I wasn't sure that was absolutely correct, because all the new feminine emotions I was experiencing seemed to be rippling back to change my history, or at least my interpretation of it. I could remember certain boys and men with whom I had been friends. My devotion to them now looked more like the beginnings of romance, while at the time they seemed only to be respect and friendly compatibility. I could share these speculations with Lance later if they persisted. And it was certainly true that Lance and my feelings for him were totally different! "I'll take that as a compliment." "It is. Maybe I never met the right man! You're all man, and yet you like me as a woman, knowing that I'm really a man. It's hard to get one's mind around." "I'm not looking at a man. And frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn. If a woman is as beautiful and feminine as you are, I could care less what she's got between her legs." "Oh really?" I said, with mock girlish anger. "What about me is so feminine?" I flicked my tiny wrist and my perfectly manicured feminine fingertips toward him, batting my eyelashes like the ingenue in an old movie. "A thousand things," Lance said. "You have a tiny body, at least compared to an ox like me. You have delicate skin. You're always beautifully made up or you're beautiful without makeup. Hell, I can't tell." "That's the way we girls like it." I giggled. "I know you do. I can handle not knowing. But you're definitely wearing dark eye shadow and a bright pink lipstick. No guy does that. Not so naturally, not loving it so much." "I guess I'm a girl then," I said. "A fate worse than death!" "But seriously, Kim. It's the way you feel, and I'm not talking physically. You seem when I'm with you to have a female--hell, I don't know--a female spirit inhabiting your body. I believe you have a cock, because you said so, but actually it's hard--" "Yes, it is," I interjected. He laughed. "Is it a big one?" "Tiny," I said, giggling. "I was constantly teased in the locker room. My little thing is the secret of my lack of success with women, that and the fact that I was so passive. Heck, every time I dated a girl we were both waiting in vain for the other to make a move." I realized that my history with women was also morphing in my memory. Girls had frequently said, "Let's just be friends," which I had seen at the time as their rejection of someone unworthy of being a boyfriend, when in fact I could now see that I was receiving a rare invitation to be one of them, a judgment that I was worthy--albeit as a girlfriend. And why not, since I had always felt comfortable and at home with females, unless they chided me for some missing bit of masculinity? I could now cherish a moment of burning shame, when a pretty coed had told me, "You kiss like a girl!" "See what I mean?" Lance said, interrupting my thoughts. "You've got that female knack for waiting, that almost passive way of interacting with people, while being so quick and bright if someone does approach you. I like it in a woman, even if she--" "Has issues with her body?" He laughed. "Yes, and don't all of you?" "We do!" Lance's eyes cut away from me to look up and over my shoulder at something behind me. "How they hanging, Lance?" boomed a snarling, deep, male voice almost in my ear. I jumped, and brought my fingers to my lips, covering my mouth, which had flown open in surprise. Lance lifted his hand and beckoned with his fingers to someone behind me. "Come around over here, Victor. I have someone I want you to meet." A large man appeared next to our table, seeming to take up the space and even the air we needed to breathe. He leaned over ominously, scaring me at first, until I realized it was a crude bow. "Kim, this is Victor Bronsky, an old friend of mine." "Nice to meet you, Mr. Bronsky," I said with a musical female lilt that I was rather proud of. "You look pretty nice yourself, baby," he said, staring down at my breasts, then mauling me up and down with his eyes. I was glad I was still sitting, with the table hiding part of my body, a body feeling very vulnerable in that moment. Victor leaned over and said into Lance's ear, in a loud stage whisper, "Nice looking girl, Lance. Is she real, or one of your sissy bitches?" Lance let the crude comment go without protest, saying only, "You know she's real, or you'd be all over my ass. And hers." "His," Victor said loudly, and laughed. He looked at me again. "But I know she's the real thing. Why bother with the trannies when you can have anything you want, right?" He pointed his open hand at me, as if he had just served up a meal. "When you can have this." He leaned in toward me and said, "Watch out for this guy, sweetheart. He has dated every actress in town. You'd be better off with a more selective man like me." Lance laughed. "Yeah, right." He hit Victor on the arm lightly with a mock punch. "So, what's new with you, you asshole?" "Nothing much, you prick," Victor said, laughing. Then he paused, a thoughtful look coming over his face. "Say Lance," he finally said, "I'm glad I ran into you. You know anybody at Morco Tires?" "Yeah," Lance said. "What do you need?" "I got a little problem with--" Victor began. I tuned out as they talked for a few minutes about business. I hardly heard another word, just sitting there meekly, shocked and ashamed but unable to do anything. I would always be vulnerable to verbal assaults like this. This was my new life. I felt not only like a woman, but like an abused woman. After Victor left, stopping to give me a polite good-bye, Lance apologized for the man's behavior. I said, "It's fine, Lance. I guess I am a sissy bitch!" Trying to be funny. He didn't laugh. He said he was embarrassed, but there was nothing he could do but hope one day to have a chance to get even. "Why? Can you tell me?" "Well, he's the owner of one of the largest trucking companies in the country, an important customer." "So it could ruin your business to lose him?" "No, not really, although it would hurt. The real reason is he's connected, if you know what I mean." "The mafia?" "Worse. The Russian mob, and he's got an organization in China. On top of that, I knew him in prison, and I owe him." "Will he get you involved in crime again?" "No," Lance said. "I'm completely legitimate, and he knows that's not going to change. It's the main reason I'm useful to him-- respectability." "Everybody serves somebody," I said, smiling at my boyfriend and offering my glass for a toast. Lance clicked his glass against mine. "You truly are the girl of my dreams, Kim. I think I love you." Then I really blushed, and yes, I was totally turned on by this complex and powerful man's love for me. # # # That first date began a run of several weeks that I mark in my memory as the ordinary life of an ordinary young woman with a new boyfriend, which is a most extraordinary thing to say, since I was not in fact a woman at all but an actress--well, actor--who was playing a role as a woman. Or was I? And why was I now thinking of it as a role? I no longer had the harem of women to pretend for. And I dressed as a woman all the time, whether I was working for Elliott or Samantha, and all the other women at work accepted me as one of the girls, treating me as nothing special. I was no longer news around AMI, but a full member of the team, who got her work done and made her contribution and earned her position on what I hoped was the fast track. Naturally, Elliott and Samantha were very happy that Lance and I were still dating after several weeks and had not had a single fight. It didn't hurt a bit that the crisis point had passed in their business relationship with Lance, who was now fully committed to AMI as his main advertising partner far into the future. As for the sweet personal relationship Lance and I enjoyed, Elliott joked that it was because I wasn't as crazy as a real woman. Samantha shushed him and said, "Oh, she was just lucky enough to find her soulmate." "Just as you did," Elliott said, grinning and kissing his wife. "I was going to say that next!" Samantha teased. Perhaps I had found my soulmate, I thought. I was loving my new life with Lance and yes, I was in love with him. I had never felt so carried away by romance before. I had not thought it possible to be so in love. I was now convinced that my lukewarm romantic interest in women, which was obvious now, had been caused by the fact that I was a girl myself. Lance, for his part, was being so normal about us that I worried whether I bored him. He laughed when I asked about that, pointing out all the fun things we had done together, such as the trip to Maui, with an afternoon of me surfing in a skimpy red-and-white polka-dot bikini on a public beach and a day of golfing with customers, with me in a skirt teeing off with the wives. We worked well together as a team, whether with other couples as in Hawaii, in that case his customers whom we were hosting, or old and new friends of all varieties around town. None of them, not even the women, ever become the least bit suspicious of his fetching girlfriend, and all of them, if Lance chose to reveal my secret as a way of creating intimacy with them, shocked and disbelieving to hear I was so special. I was enthralled my new female acquaintances, a closeness I had never enjoyed with friends before in my whole life, and had stopped counting the number of handsome guys who had made passes at me at the gym or the grocery. I found my life joyfully relaxing and exciting enough to make me happy forever, but truthfully it was really nothing special compared to other women. I could have been in a one-girl 24/7 reality show and no one would have found my life to be anything other than a young professional woman's dream life, both at work and at play. # # # Not that there weren't the occasional scary incidents, which somehow confirmed my femininity even more. One night on the way home from a cocktail party, Lance asked Ralph to take us to a current hot nightclub area. "A nightcap might be nice," Lance said to me. "I guess I don't want this to end?" "I don't want it to end either, my darling," I said, using a playful British accent, saying "eye-ther" and "dahling." Lance chuckled. He looked at me, smiling, and leaned in slowly. I did not move away. I gazed into his handsome face, unflinching. I liked this man, and I simply loved being the object of his adoration. But how long could it last, really? He kissed my lips softly. I let out a little sigh, surprising myself with the passion I felt for him. I touched his face with my fingertips, his stubble rough and manly. Never had I felt so vulnerable and never had I felt so safe, so right. He pressed harder, turning his head, passion taking him as well. I gave to his advance, and my hands went up both sides of his neck as he took my lips, then pierced my small mouth with his large tongue, gently presented, enticing, not forcing, and I ran my hands through his hair, not able to prevent myself from touching my man, caressing him, pulling him to me. He encircled me with his strong arms and pulled us together. I moaned. "Mmmm." Lance backed off a tiny bit, but still holding my breasts to his chest, "You like it, don't you, baby?" "Oh, Lance!" I gushed, feeling myself shake all over, "I love it! I think I love you!" He ramped up his passionate kisses and nibbles, and I fell back, letting him have his way with me. "Ahem," Ralph said. I realized the car had stopped. I could see neon lights on the street outside. "Do your really want a drink?" Lance said. "No, but I need to cool off!" He laughed and opened the door. "Smart girl. You got a point there." I knew I was being a bit coy, but it felt right. Apparently, I was a natural at girlish games of romance, because I could see a generous tenting in my lover's pants as he got out of the car and adjusted himself. I let him take my hand as I put down my feet outside the car, delicately searching with the toes of my high-heeled shoes for a safe place to stand. I stood. "You are turning me on, baby doll," Lance said, as we walked toward a place labeled in pink neon as "Lifestyles Late Night." "I'm so sorry!" I said, kissing my man's cheek. "Am I being a tease? I'm new at this, you know." "I'm starting to wonder," Lance said, opening the door for me, as people smoking on the street watched us with interest, me in Samantha's blue dress and red heels and Lance not having disappointed me in the least by sporting a fashionable tuxedo that showed off his massive chest, shoulders and arms. Inside, Lance looked around for a table. The place was a real dive. Holding my hand, he took us to the bar. The bartender came over immediately. "How ya doing?" "Great," Lance said, "Macallan on the rocks and a brandy alexander for the lady." I appreciated his taking care of me and guessing right, or at least I thought so. "Is that sweet?" I asked him. "Very," he said. "You sure know how to treat a lady." "You sure know how to be a lady." "Thank you, darling," I said, smiling as seductively as I could manage, accepting the drink from Lance's hand. I tasted it. "Mmmm, delish!" I said, thinking, oh my God, I'm turning into all the ladies I'd ever seen in the movies. Whoever said delish now? Lance didn't seem to care in the least. "Glad you like it, Kim." He sipped his scotch. A guy got up and Lance lifted me up onto the vacated stool like I was a tiny stuffed animal. "You're so strong!" I said, giggling. "I try to stay in shape. But so do you." "Samantha has me doing Zoomba with her and the other girls, and I've always enjoyed jogging and a little light weightlifting." "It shows. I like a woman with some muscle." "Thank you!" I said. I looked around. "Need something?" "I know it's horrible timing, but I need to pee!" I confessed. "Hey, no problem. You want me to come with you?" "Don't be silly!" I said, getting down and taking Samantha's red bejeweled clutch purse with me, so I could check my makeup. I went to the back in search of the ladies' room. Finally, I found it way in the back, and there was no line and no one around. I realized why once I was inside. The place was atrocious! I locked the door and took advantage of my baby penis, standing to pee, which at the moment seemed to be the only advantage to being biologically male. After washing my hands, wondering if I would have encountered fewer germs by not touching the faucet at all, I did my best on my lips in the semi-darkness of the dirty mirror, snapped my purse shut, and unlocked the door. Stepping out into the hall, I found two men, one of them very large, blocking the way. "Let's use the ladies'," the giant said. I moved to step aside, looking down demurely so as not to provoke an engagement. My breath caught in my throat as the two men pushed me backward as they walked into the bathroom, slamming the door behind them. The big one said, "I saw the way you looked at me, you little tease." I heard the other one click the doorlock. "I didn't mean--" but my apology was interrupted by a slap in the face administered by the smaller man. It hurt, but he had hit me as if I were really a woman. I had been hit harder. "Shut the fuck up, bitch, and pull up that dress before I rip it off you." "I don't think you understand," I said. Another slap came, but I blocked it with my right arm. "Feisty little bitch, ain't she?" I heard a woman screaming for help and realized it was me. "Shut up!" the big guy said. "Nobody can hear you back here." The music was loud, for sure. I knew my only salvation would be if I could stall them long enough for Lance to realize something was wrong. "Look," I said, in my manliest voice. "You have the wrong person if you want sex." They looked at me with quizzical expressions, but the big one stepped up, saying, "Okay, I warned you, bitch. That fucking dress is coming off." He reached out. "I'm a man," I said. "Fuck you are," the little one said. I pulled my dress up above my waist. "Feel my cock and balls," I said. The big one did, squeezing really hard. "Ow!" I screeched. "That hurt!" "All we wanted was a blow-job, you dumbass tranny whore! We're not fucking rapists." He grabbed my neck with his massive hand and forearm and began to pull me down toward his crotch, his other hand unzipping and flopping out a massive, drooping tool. I could smell him, musty and meaty and rotten somehow, nothing like Lance, with whom, I thought sadly, I had never been nearly so intimate. Was I about to lose my oral virginity to this monster? I reluctantly accepting with gut-wrenching disgust the fact that I was about to give my first blow-job. It seemed the only way to stall for time and avoid a deadly beating. "Take it, you little slut," one of them said. But at that point, before I could get within kissing distance of the man's cock, the world fell in on us, loudly and without warning. I felt myself violently thrust back into the corner of the bathroom. Things fell on top of me, long things, box-like things, paper things. I recalled that the corner had been cluttered with shelves filled with an array of supplies obscured by a cluster of standing mops and brooms. The weight of the large man pushing into me, my head hitting him in the solar plexus as he was driven forward by some force to his rear, must have caused me to crash against all the stuff stored in the corner and stop there, sitting, oddly perched on the shelves somehow, with my legs dangling. I looked up and saw that the impact had come from the door falling in, and soon its trajectory had pressed the smaller man against the toilet and continued to scrape down the back of the larger man, who was pressed up against me, my face now in the hollow of his shoulder, giving me a view of the chaos behind him, as he bellowed curses in pain and rage. I looked up and realized with a thrill of gratitude that Lance had kicked in the door and was climbing it up the big guy's back, pressing the man against me and somehow keeping him too cramped to hurt me or to turn around to deal with the threat to his rear. I had my arms up by now, protecting my face as much as possible and providing some resistance as the giant began to get his arms free. I knew I couldn't hold his arms down for long. As we all quickly found out, it wasn't necessary for me to hold on. I watched as Lance brought his massive right fist down on the back of the gorilla's neck, and the man slumped into unconsciousness leaning against me. I could just see Lance grab the back of the smaller man's head and slam it down face-first onto the toilet tank lid, cracking the lid in two. The little man went limp and slid to the floor. "Can you hear me, Kim?" Lance called. "In the corner, Lance. Here I am!" I began to hear people talking, shouting and laughing, then the sound of wood breaking and scraping, and finally, the large piece of unconscious meat that had attacked me and was about to suffocate me was pulled away. I couldn't catch myself, but when I fell, I fell into my man's strong arms. Lance hugged me and kissed me and leaned back to get a good look. "Anything broken, baby?" I tried to look at myself. My dress was torn and my purse was gone, but I didn't feel any sharp pains. "I don't think so, Lance. Thank you for saving me. Do you see my purse?" "I'm really sorry, Kim. You should kick my ass for letting you go alone. What the fuck was I thinking?" "Can I help, boss?" Ralph said from behind Lance. "I found her purse." Lance put his arms under my armpits and lifted me out and over the fallen door. "Hold on to Ralph, baby." "Gladly!" I said. Several in the crowd of observers laughed and cheered as I emerged. Ralph began to paw at my dress, and I realized he was trying to pull it down from well above my waist. I helped him, saying, "Thank you, Ralph." "No problem, ma'am. You okay?" "I think so!" I said, a bit amazed myself. I was not foolish enough to think I could escape such an assault without a few scrapes and bruises, but I felt pretty good, all things considered. "Let's go," Lance said, keeping his eye on the sleeping bodies. "I'm going to need your name," a man said to me. "You the owner?" Lance asked him, stepping between me and the man. Lance held one of my arms, Ralph the other. I felt so safe! "Yeah," the man said. "Who are you?" "I'm a five-hundred-dollar tip," Lance said, pulling out his wallet and handing several bills to the man. "Buy these assholes a couple drinks on me when they wake up. I'll ask my driver here to stop by tomorrow and check to make sure the balance covers the damage." "How do I know you're going to do what you say?" "You don't," Lance said looking coldly into the man's eyes. "But I do." The man didn't say anything, but just stood there frozen. Lance looked at me and smiled. "You ready, baby?" I smiled back and nodded, suddenly very tired as the adrenaline drained away. The owner woke up and said, "Wait a second there, buddy." Lance turned to the guy and got in his face. "Look, I'm going to give you one more chance. I've told you what I'm going to do, and if you question my word one more time, you and I are going to have a serious problem. And one more thing. If you don't want this poor lady to sue your fucking ass straight into lawyer hell, you'd better let us leave immediately and put the lid on what happened tonight in this shithole of yours--you get what I'm saying?" Lance looked like he was ready to pound the owner just as he had done the two rapists. The man looked at the mess and the bodies in the bathroom. He nodded. "Yes, sir." As I walked out, almost held up by my two protectors, the crowd cheered us on, the women trying to encourage me and tell me I would be fine, the men, many of them drunk and sounding incoherent, raving about how Lance had "fucked up those guys so bad!" A moment later, finally resting in the back seat of Lance's car, I said, "Oh my God, I must look horrible!" "Better than ever," Lance said, chuckling, as Ralph drove us away, "but a little messy in the makeup department." "I'm sorry you have to see me this way," I said, finding the compact in my clutch that Ralph had carried out for me. "You hold up pretty well in a fight," Lance said. I looked at my face in the tiny mirror. Not as bad as I had expected. It must have happened so fast, I thought, that I couldn't get too scraped up. I did my lips and wiped the running mascara off my perspiring cheeks. I wasn't wearing any foundation, so there wasn't much to smear. I smoothed my hair as much as possible. "I guess I need to take you shopping for a new dress," Lance said. "Oh, I know! Samantha will be as mortified as I am. She gave it to me, you know." "Great!" he said. "That means you two girls can go and do your thing, and I'll treat. That way I don't have to shop." "You're just like a man," I said to him. "And you're nothing like one," Lance said, kissing me passionately on my freshly painted lips. © Copyright 2013, by Leslie P. Lowe. All rights reserved. [email protected]