Runaway
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Runaway 1 free porn video
RUNAWAY - Chapter 1
I was sixteen when I finally ran away from home. They were the sixth
foster family I'd been with and maybe not the worst. Most of my life had
been spent in kid's homes or with foster parents, after being abandoned
when I was only a few months old. A previous attempt to break free when I
was fourteen had ended when the police caught up with me after only a few
hours freedom and handed me back to the social workers.
Growing up in kids homes had provided me with a number of skills, like
not trusting anyone and being able to care for myself when I had to. At
sixteen I'd had enough of being told what I could and couldn't do. I
wanted to get away. Planning was going to be essential.
Over a period of some months I stole money from my foster parents. I know
this sounds bad, but it was only small amounts at any one time and I
didn't feel guilty about this because they were paid well enough to keep
me. The real brainwave came when Barbara, my step mum, asked me to take a
whole load of clothes to a charity shop. She went out early that morning
and, just out of curiosity, I emptied the bag on the floor to have a look
at what she was throwing away.
That's when it came to me. If I made my break dressed as a girl, I
wouldn't get dragged back because everyone would be looking for a boy. My
hair was almost to my shoulders and dirty blond as I had been cultivating
a sort of cool surfer look. My step mum was about the same height as me,
around five foot three inches, and I was skinny enough for her clothes to
fit me. It was a crazy idea but I thought it might actually work.
After a couple of days I'd planned my escape. It would take me on three
different buses in a fourteen-hour journey to the seaside town I had
chosen. The second bus was an overnighter and I figured I'd catch up with
sleep on that one. I packed a holdall with a couple of the dresses I'd
selected and some panties, bras and other odds and ends that I'd pinched
from Barbara's room. I'd already checked that the bus terminal had a
disabled toilet and I planned to change in there; it was unisex and I
wouldn't draw the attention of anyone when going in or out.
On the afternoon I left I was pretty looking over my shoulder, expecting
someone to stop me. The bus station was quiet and I slipped into the
toilet as planned. This was the first time I'd dressed as a girl and it
felt a bit weird. I brushed my hair in a neater style and chose a summery
cotton dress. The panties were a cream silky material. I wasn't sure they
were necessary, but as I was going for my own blue converse trainer shoes
I thought I'd make the effort to 'feel' the part. There were two pairs of
shoes with heels in my bag but I wasn't sure I could walk in them as I'd
had no practice. After a quick assessment in the mirror, I decided to use
the bra as well, stuffed with a stocking in each one. They looked small
under the dress but realistic.
Speaking quietly, because I wasn't too sure of my voice, I bought a
ticket and boarded the bus, taking a seat near the back. While I stared
out the window, keeping an eye out for anyone who might be looking for
me, a guy who looked to be in his twenties took the seat next to me. This
was not part of my plan and I immediately asked to get out. He stood up
made way for me to change seats. Then he moved and sat next to me again.
I was about to panic when a lady asked him if he could move as her niece,
nodding at me, had been trying to save a seat for her. He reluctantly
gave up and she slid in next to me.
"It looked like you had a problem," she whispered. "Hope you didn't mind
me interfering?"
"Um, no, thanks," I mumbled.
She didn't say anything else for a while, then she leant closer to me.
"Are you travelling a long way by yourself?" she asked, but didn't wait
for a reply. "Because the nearer you sit to the driver, the less you're
likely to be bothered by men like that one."
I thanked her, worried again that my voice might give me away, but she
didn't seem to notice anything odd. I stared out the window solidly for
the next hour until we got to where I needed to change bus. We got off
together and she asked how old I was. I told her eighteen. She nodded and
told me to be careful, then turned and walked away.
I was certain that she genuinely thought I was a girl, as had the guy
earlier, which gave me some confidence. I bought my onward ticket and
nervously entered the ladies rest room. It was far nicer than any men's
room I'd ever been in. I hid in a cubicle and relaxed for the first time
since I'd run away. I took a pair of the heeled shoes from my bag and put
them on. The fit was a fraction tight and when I stood I was very
unstable. They were obviously going to take a bit of practice. Space was
limited and I could only take one or two steps before I had to turn
around. It wasn't too tricky if I concentrated and didn't move too fast,
I decided to give it a go. The last thing I needed was to be 'made' as a
boy.
I came out the cubicle and studied my face in a mirror. I didn't have
facial hair and my eyes were a very clear blue. With my hair brushed so
that I had a long fringe hanging over my eyebrows I was confident that I
could pass for a girl without much problem. If I'd thought to practice
with some makeup, and bring some with me, it might have helped even more.
The rest of the journey proved no problem, but I didn't sleep that well
being worried about the way I was dressed. By nine o'clock the next
morning, having done the last few miles on a local bus, I was in the
seaside town as planned and the sun was shining. I thought I'd be able to
shed the disguise as nobody would be looking for me here, but when I was
walking through a mall, looking for somewhere to buy breakfast, I saw my
face blazed over a whole shop full of television screens. The scrolling
news at the foot of the screen said I was missing, and police would like
anyone who had seen me to contact them. I wasn't going to be able to
ditch my disguise yet.
Panic drove me from the mall and all those televisions. Wandering through
the town centre I saw a sign in a caf? window. It was advertising for
kitchen staff. I had enough money for maybe three or four days and hadn't
thought much past that. I pushed open the door and ordered a coffee at
the counter. This gave me time to look around and make a decision.
The place was clean and neat and you could see the brightly lit kitchen
through a large hatch behind the counter. Finishing my coffee, I returned
to the counter and enquired about the job. The woman asked if I had any
kitchen experience and I said I had. The children's home kitchen was huge
and I'd done as much there as you would in most cafe kitchens. She asked
my age and I said eighteen. She seemed to believe me.
"You'll have to see the owner," she said. "But you're the only applicant
so far. You're not hoping to be well paid are you?"
I shrugged not really knowing what good or bad pay was.
"Can you come back in an hour or so?" she asked.
I nodded and went back to walking round the town. I needed somewhere to
live and had no real idea what that might cost long term. Returning to
the cafe I was directed by the woman, who introduced herself as Babs,
through the kitchen to a small office at the back. There was a balding
guy in there sat at a desk and listening to someone on the telephone, he
indicated for me to sit down opposite him.
When he hung up he didn't even look at me, just kept ticking stuff off on
a list on his desk.
"So, you want the job?" he grunted.
I nodded, but as he wasn't looking at me he didn't see me nod.
"Yes, I do, I think," I mumbled.
"Any experience?"
"Yes," I bluffed.
He looked at me and sniffed. Then leant back in his chair.
"You a local girl?"
I hesitated and then decided that a version of the truth was the easiest
option. I told him I'd just arrived in town that morning and was looking
for a job and a place to stay.
"Homeless then?" he asked.
I said I wasn't homeless, just needed to find a place to stay.
"There's a room upstairs," he said. "It's got a bathroom, small kitchen,
it could come with the job. And it's handy for work," he laughed.
This was all easier than I'd expected and readily agreed to the deal. The
job was minimum wage, but I got to keep the tips. He wanted sight of my
id and when I said it had been stolen on the bus he looked at me
carefully.
"I could pay you cash for the time being, but it would be a bit less, and
you'd have to keep quiet about it."
I thought about it for a nanosecond and nodded my agreement.
"I suppose you're a runaway?"
I nodded again.
"Right," he said wearily. "Doesn't worry me what you're running from, but
I need to know two things."
"What are they?"
"How old you are is the first one, and I don't want any lies."
I told him I was eighteen and he seemed to accept this.
"And are you wanted by the police for anything."
"You mean like have I committed a crime?" I asked.
"Yeah, that sort of thing," he said nodding at me.
I told him that I hadn't committed any crimes and wasn't on a wanted list
or anything like that. I didn't think my foster parents would want me
back and the social workers and police weren't going to shed many tears.
"Don't suppose you want to pay a month's rent in advance do you?" he
asked.
I told him I didn't have much money and he said he'd deduct it from my
wages at the end of each week.
He took a key out of his drawer and tossed it on the desk.
"Door to the flat is down the side alley and up the stairs. You can start
work this afternoon. Babs will show you the ropes.
I thanked him and he only asked me at that point what my name was. This
was something I hadn't even thought about and gave him the first name
that came into my head. There had been a girl I'd known at the care home,
she had been like a sister. A year older than me, she'd run off four
years before and never been heard from since.
"Nicola," I replied. "Nicola Caston."
I took my bag up to the room, it was a bit shabby, but dry and clean
The contents of my bag when laid out on the bed didn't look very much.
Thankfully I still had most of my money and decided that a search of
charity shops would be the cheapest way to extend my wardrobe. After a
shower, I dressed again, this time in my converse trainers and checked
myself in the mirror. It was odd seeing my full-length reflection for the
first time. If I met the girl I was looking at I'd think she was pretty
cute. My life was taking some weird turns but I guessed it wouldn't be
for long. The news wouldn't run the story after they'd decided I was just
a runaway and not some murderer or sex crime victim.
I went back downstairs and into the cafe and Babs made us both a coffee.
There was only one couple in that time. She explained the menu and said I
could start by doing the easy stuff, washing up, serving, taking money,
clearing. She said that she'd get me preparing the food as we went along.
There were three other women who worked there at various times and Babs
said one of them would be in soon. The busiest times were early morning
and lunch, the evenings were varied but rarely busy.
I really enjoyed working at the cafe. All the staff were fun to be
around, the work wasn't that hard and the customers were friendly, many
of them being regulars. I trawled the charity shops in my spare time and
bought skirts, dresses and a couple more pairs of flat shoes. I'd tried
working in heels and they made my feet and legs hurt by the end of a
shift. The other women who worked in the cafe were all considerably older
than me and noticed that the tips were much better when I was waiting
table or even at the till. We shared tips with whoever was on the same
shift. I ended up doing a lot of waiting table.
The whole thing about dressing as a girl had become fun, like I was
playing a part in a movie. At no time did I think of myself as gay or a
transvestite. I told myself that this was just a way of staying out of
sight. The makeup I'd bought and experimented with was also just part of
the game. In the first few days I changed back into my boy clothes in the
evening, but gradually those few items of clothing disappeared to the
back of the wardrobe and I stayed 'in character' twenty four hours a day.
I'd even bought a short silky nightdress, which felt incredibly sensual
against my skin.
In my time off I'd wander round town, go to the cinema or walk the
promenade. My intention was that this would be just for a few weeks, but
it was the second month when it all got serious. One of the regulars, a
nice guy in his early twenties, asked me out.
I was so used to dressing as a girl, but thinking of myself as me, that
I'd not realised that this might happen. Was I really attractive enough
for a real guy to ask me out? I was terrified by the question and, I
confess, kind of flattered. I just said that I'd think about it to buy
time.
That simply encouraged him because he asked me every day after that,
usually making a joke about it. Then, one Thursday, he showed me two
tickets to see a show at the local theatre. I don't quite know what I was
thinking when I said yes.
It was two days time and I had to decide what to wear and wondered what
the hell I had let myself in for. On Saturday morning I found myself
shopping, like a real girl, looking for an outfit that he would like. I
was still limited to charity shops as the money I was making wasn't that
good. I found a pretty dress in white cotton and a pair of three-inch
heels, which I could now walk in without trouble. My makeup skills were
quite good too, as long as I didn't try to overdo it. I'd also grown my
nails and taken to wearing varnish on my fingernails and toenails, just
to perfect my temporary role.
That Saturday afternoon I'd taken a huge leap and booked a hair
appointment. It was an unexpected luxury having my hair washed and
styled, even though it cost a fortune by my standards. The basic style
wasn't changed, but my fringe now looked neat as it hung down to cover my
eyebrows, the rest of my hair stayed shoulder length and was flicked
under. They gave me a free manicure and complimented me on my complexion,
giving me some makeup tips as well.
I was waiting just inside the cafe when Tony arrived to pick me up. He'd
come in a taxi, it would be the first time I'd ever been in one. Babs was
working that evening and slid something into my shoulder bag saying 'just
in case'. When I visited the ladies before the show I found a packet of
condoms in there and felt myself blush.
I was so confused with what I was doing that my head was in a complete
spin all evening. The show was great and when we had interval drinks I
had no idea what to order. The only thing I really knew to order was a
gin and tonic, something my last foster mum was always drinking. When I
sipped it, the taste was weird and smelled like some sort of fuel. The
only way I managed it was by sipping it through the slice of lemon.
When we emerged from the show, Tony had his arm round my shoulders and,
as it was a warm night, suggested a walk along the seafront. I was
lightheaded from the gin and the excitement of the evening. It seemed
easier to walk in step if I leant into him a little. It felt nice to be
part of a couple and when he stopped and turned me round to face him I
had no choice but to accept a kiss from him.
It was a soft kiss and not forceful at all. My emotions were so confused
that I think my brain switched off completely. Over the last two months I
had been living and working as a girl and I think some part of me had
forgotten that I was really a boy just playing the part of a girl.
One little kiss on the lips wasn't enough for Tony and he leant down
towards me for a second taste. My hands were resting on his chest as his
lips brushed mine. I didn't think about what I was doing, I just reacted.
My lips parted ever so slightly and his tongue slipped between them. It
was the most sensual thing that I had ever experienced and I think I must
have sighed with pleasure, or maybe fear. Something I did had certainly
encouraged him because his hands slid down the small of my back and
cupped my ass.
It was like I suddenly came to my senses and realised the danger if he
found out the truth. I pulled away from him.
"Sorry was that all a bit too fast for you." he said, holding my hands.
I didn't know what to say or do and mumbled that he didn't really know
me. I looked down to the ground and risked some version of the truth, not
sure how much or what to tell him.
"I'm not who you think I am," I said, dropping my gaze to the floor.
"Ah," he said as though he understood. "I never asked your age I suppose.
My fault."
"It's not my age," I replied quickly, although that would probably have
scared him almost as much. "I'm not who... what... you think I am."
"I don't know what you mean," he said frowning. "You're not an escaped
master criminal are you, in disguise to escape the police."
"I am in disguise, sort of," I said quietly.
This was going to be the point where I was going to be ridiculed or
beaten up or maybe worse. I stole a glance at him. He was looking at me,
smiling nicely, not like he was angry or anything.
"I'm not?? I started. Then I had to take a deep breath. "I'm not really a
girl."
There was a long pause during which I was sure that I could feel him
looking at me, but I couldn't meet his eyes.
"You kiss like a girl," he said softly. "And you certainly look like a
girl. And you definitely act like a girl."
I risked looking up, it didn't seem like he was about to hit me or do
anything nasty. His hands were still holding mine and he lifted them to
his lips and kissed my fingertips. His eyes never left mine. Then he
leant down to kiss me again and his lips lingered against mine, not
pressing hard, just touching. My own lips parted without me thinking
about it and his tongue slid into my mouth as our lips locked together.
My hands lay against his chest as his slid down to my waist, then to my
hips. When they cupped my ass for a second time I let my body be drawn
close against his. At that moment I knew that I wasn't going to stop
wearing dresses at any time in the near future. I also knew that
something inside me had changed forever.
Lauryn
- 22.06.2020
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