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Little Big Man

By: bassbelly



He was five feet, three inches tall. He weighed a whopping 115 pounds. At eighteen years old, he was checking in to a new high school in the first month of the school year. His father was a fighter pilot in the Air Force. They moved a lot. They moved so much that his mother had her fill of it five years ago and divorced his dad.

He knew what it was like, checking in to a new school. He had done it many times before. It didn't make him happy because he knew that once again his ass would be on the line. Kids are not particularly kind to people who are a little different and his diminutive size definitely made him different.

He shouldered his pack and reported to the registration desk. It took him half an hour to check in. It took another hour to sort out his class schedule. He asked to see the physical education instructor, but the instructor would not be available until the next day. A bell rang and classes changed. It was lunch time. "Well, I better get this over with," he thought.

He made his way to the cafeteria. A big jock type kid yelled, "Hey boy the grade school is two blocks down." He ignored the jibe and checked out the serving line. His selections were all very healthy, passing up the fried stuff and the junk food.

He took his tray to a table in the corner and sat down to eat. The big jock type strolled over to his table. "What is a shrimp like you doing in high school? You're barely big enough to be out of kindergarten."

"I gonna ask you one time to leave me alone. Don't bother me. Go play with your friends." He replied.

Not taking the hint, the jock started to grab his tray. The kid shifted his weight, grabbed the errant wrist and gave it a quick twist. The jock doubled over in pain. "I asked you nicely to leave me alone. I meant it. The next time, I'll break it."

John Taylor was small, but he was highly skilled. He had attended karate classes since he was five. At twelve, he was a black belt. At fifteen, he attained instructor status. Now, at eighteen, he was a dangerous weapon. He had learned from the best martial arts instructors on the planet. When he found out that he was too short to be a fighter pilot like his dad, he had concentrated on his martial arts skills to the exclusion of all else. Even though he was small, there were few men who could defeat him. If the truth were told, he could have kicked the shit out of the entire football team at one sitting.

The jock had tears in his eyes as he nursed his wrist. The pain was incredible. It wasn't broken, but it would hurt like hell for several hours. He moved away from the table. "See ya later," he threatened.

"Bad idea," replied John.

A hush had fallen over the cafeteria. They had all been waiting to see what Curt would do to the new boy. They never expected him to be defeated so easily. They all stared at John as he ate his lunch.

The bell for fourth period rang and John trotted to calculus class. He liked calculus. It was simple, clean and followed never changing rules. He was a straight "A" student. School came easily to him. He liked it except the part where he had to shut off the bullies. He didn't enjoy hurting people, but he would take crap from no one, man or boy.

The rest of the day went without incident. When the final bell rang, he shouldered his pack and started the two mile run home. He ran everywhere. He never walked outside. He had absolutely no fat on his small frame. Endless practice had made him quicker than a cat. When he spotted the bully waiting for him at the gate, he completely ignored him. 

As he passed through the gate, the jock made a grab for his pack. He easily avoided it, turned and walked over to the jock. "What's it gonna be? Which part of you do you want broken?"

"There isn't any way a punk like you can hurt me in any way!"

John looked up at him. "Last chance," he whispered.

The jock pulled his hands up to push John. John thumped him in a certain place on his breast bone. The jock collapsed, gasping for air. John left him there and returned to his run.

The next morning John ran to school. He went into the cafeteria and bought a carton of orange juice. A couple of coeds walked by him, whispering and giggling. 

He trotted over to the attendance office. "May I please talk to the Phys Ed instructor," he asked politely.

"He can see you right away. Go to the teacher's lounge in this building. He'll be there. His name is Mr. Givens."

John found the teacher's lounge and found Mr. Givens sitting by himself with a cup of coffee. He introduced himself. "What's the problem son?" 

"I don't have a problem. I would like to enroll in any martial arts class you offer. I also want to be considered for the swimming team and the wrestling team."

"Why don't you come to my office in the gym right after school. We can discuss your physical prowess then."

"Okay sir, I'll be there." He left the admin building and headed for his first class. 

When the last bell rang, he headed for the gym. He strode into the instructor's office. "Good afternoon sir," he said.

"Okay kid, what's on your mind?"

"I want to get into sports. I am a skilled karate instructor, a good boxer, good swimmer and great wrestler."

"Aren't you a little small to want to do all these things?"

"Actually sir I have already done all these things in the schools I attended before I got here."

"I read about a kid named John Taylor who was a martial arts expert. Do you know who he is?"

"Yes sir, I do."

"Do you know him?"

"Sir, I am him."

"Do you have a free period? I would like to see what you've got before I make any rash decisions."

"Third period is open for me."

"Be here during third period tomorrow. Bring your gym shorts and a t-shirt."

"Yes sir. Thank you sir."

He ran home. The jock was nowhere in sight. 

He couldn't wait to get to school the next day. He enjoyed physical activity immensely and his body needed regular work outs. Third period came and he sprinted to the gym.

"Okay boy," greeted the coach, "We'll start with some exercises. How many pull ups can you do?"

"I never tried for a record. My usual workout is twenty with my left arm, then twenty with my right arm, then fifty with both."

The coach blinked his eyes. "Show me."

John jumped up and caught the bar. He effortlessly performed the exercise.

"What does your regular exercise consist of?"

"Well sir I usually do the pull ups, then a hundred pushups, some floor exercises and a rope climb, if I've got the rope. Then I do my karate regime. I run two miles to school and two miles back every day, rain or shine. That about does it. Oh, I almost forgot, I usually run ten miles on the weekends because I don't get to run to school."

"Please take off your shirt."

John removed his shirt revealing a body that looked like it was chiseled out of granite.

"Okay, put it back on."

"Do I get on the team sir? I really need the contact."

"You could kill the football team."

"That's probably true sir, but I promise I won't damage anyone permanently." 

The coach looked at him like he was a loaded machine gun. "I'll find a place for you. Do you play football?"

"I never tried."

"We'll give you a tryout this afternoon after school."

"All right!" John almost shouted. 

The last bell rang and John headed for the practice field. Coach Givens was waiting for him. "How fast can you run forty yards?" he asked.

"I don't know, I've never been timed."

"Get on the mark and when I say go, run as fast as you can past that marker."

John got into position.

"Go!" yelled the coach. 

John disappeared down the track like he was on fire. The coach looked at his stopwatch in disbelief. The kid had just turned in a 4.4 in his first ever attempt. "He must be super man," the coach muttered. "What a running back he could be if he's tough enough."

John turned around and ran back to the coach just as fast as he had run before. He stopped in front of the coach. "Well, how did I do?" 

"You are faster than the best track man we've got. Do you want to play football for us? Some of our guys are really big and really strong."

"Size and strength really mean almost nothing. What counts is skill and knowledge." John stated.

"Be here after school tomorrow. We'll get you padded up and suited up."

"Okay coach." John picked up his pack and trotted out of sight.

John reported to the football coach the next day after school. They didn't have equipment small enough to fit him. "If you'll just give me a helmet, I can play without pads."

"No son, we can't let you do that. If you got hurt, all our asses would be on the line. I'll order the pads and the uniform. Meanwhile why don't you do some wind sprints?"

So John started sprinting up and down the hundred yard track. He was still running tirelessly when the coach called him in. "Don't you ever stop?"

"No sir, not unless you want me to." He smiled.

"I want you to meet the team," he said as he whistled them in. "This is John Taylor; He wants to be a football player. We should have some equipment for him in the next day or two. When he gets it, he'll be practicing with you."

"I can't wait!" said a voice from the back. It was Curt Hoskins, the guy who had tried to rough him up. He was a defensive end. 

He looked at Curt and smiled, "Me too."

When John left the practice field he noticed several girls standing around, watching him and giggling. He shouldered his pack and quickly ran home.

"How are things going son?" his father asked.

"Not bad, I think they may let me join the football team."

"That's good. Try not to hurt anyone."

"Aw, dad, you know I won't," he grinned.

The next day his pads arrived. As he suited up, Curt came by and said, "Now you're gonna get yours."

"I'll try not to hurt you," John replied.

They all charged out of the locker room and onto the practice field. The coach blew his whistle. "Twenty minutes calisthenics." He roared. His assistants started the exercises, leading the students through a series of push ups, running in place and all the things football players do when they're learning the game. By the time they were finished, many of the players were huffing and puffing on the ground. John hadn't even broken a sweat. He knew he would have to work extra hard at home to keep from getting fat on the gridiron.

The coach called them in and told them it was time to scrimmage. John was unfamiliar with the term. "While they start, I'll show you what I want," the coach said.

While the team was practicing, the coach explained to John the basic moves he wanted to see. 

John trotted to the huddle and replaced their number one running back. The play they were going to run would give him the ball and he would run around the end that Curt was guarding. The ball was snapped and the quarterback handed him the ball. He shot down the line like a rocket. Curt was waiting for him. As Curt made a dive at his knees, John jumped high in the air. Curt came down with an armload of nothing as John streaked toward the goal. He had a step on the linebacker, but it was more than enough as he easily outran him.

The coach and his assistants couldn't believe what they just saw. Curt was an all state defensive end, yet he had been easily defeated by a very small back. "Christ, what's he gonna be like when he learns the game?" the coach asked. "Same time tomorrow." He yelled.

John ran into the locker room and quickly stripped putting his new equipment neatly in his locker. Then he got in the shower. Curt came into the shower room, stared at John and did a quick double take. John was a small ball of muscle. He could see no fat anywhere. He also sported an eight inch cock. Curt started to talk to him, but he was dried and running out the door before a word could be said.

"He wasn't running from you. He runs everywhere," said the coach.

"I wasn't going to hassle him. I wanted to talk to him. I'm big, but I'm not stupid. Did you see that body? He is a solid piece of muscle and sinew."

"You have made a wise choice Curt. He is also a karate instructor. I've read about him in fitness magazines. His whole life is diet, exercise and karate. There is no doubt in my mind he could take on the entire team by himself and win. He once defeated five ninjas in a tournament in Japan. Friendly is the way to go. Tell all your team mates. I don't want any of them killed."

As he ran past the gate, he noticed the same group of girls twittering away and smiling at him. He wasn't gay, but he didn't have time for girls. They were too complicated and emotional. He smiled back and ran toward home.

As time marched on, he became more proficient at the game of football. He was on the swim team. He was going to join the wrestling team following football season. He had thought he might try basketball, but when he got to them gym, he realized that would not be good. The shortest guy on the basketball team was a little over a foot taller than him. Oh well.

One day in the cafeteria while sitting at his table in the corner, two of the girls who had been following him around came over and asked if they could sit with him. "Sure, no problem," he said. He wasn't used to talking to girls and he didn't know what to say. "What are your names?" he asked.

"I'm Cheryl and this is Sharon. Why are you always alone?"

"I don't know. I guess nobody wants to talk to me."

"Maybe they're afraid of you."

"Why would they be? I'm just a small guy. I don't bite!"

The girls giggled. "We saw what you did to Curt on your first day here. Nobody has ever done that to him."

"I don't want to hurt anyone. I just don't take a load of crap from anybody."

"Can we walk home with you today?"

"I never walk. I run everywhere."

"Why?"

"It helps keep me fit. Sorry."

"Well, could we visit you on a weekend?"

"Okay, but you'll have to call first. I am usually involved."

"How about this weekend?'

"Sure, just call me first." He wrote his number on a pad and handed it to them.

The bell rang for the next class and he sprinted out of the cafeteria. "This could be trouble," he thought as he neared the class room.

He scored three touchdowns in the Friday night varsity game. His team won by eleven points. He was relaxing before his Saturday morning exercise session when the phone rang. It was Cheryl. "Can we come over now?" she asked.

"Okay, but you'll have to watch while I finish my exercise routine. I don't let anything interfere with that."

"Okay, we'll be right over."

When the girls got there he was stripped to the waist, barefoot and wearing gym shorts. He answered the door. "Come on in."

The girls stared at his chiseled form and followed him into his home gym. They watched as he performed some really difficult exercises. "Excuse me for a minute," he said. "I have to get into my karate uniform."

When he returned he was clad in a well worn karate outfit. He started a truly beautiful routine. It looked incredibly difficult. He produced a sword, seemingly out of midair and went through what appeared to be an extremely dangerous routine. The sword disappeared and he walked rapidly around the room on his hands, flipped up to his feet and announced, "Shows over. Why don't you wait for me in the living room? I'm all sweaty and I have to take a quick shower."

"Okay," they sighed. 

As he departed, the girls giggled among themselves. "I think we should go spy on him," said Cheryl. "I heard he has an enormous cock."

"Well, since we're both eighteen, we wouldn't be breaking any laws. What if he got angry with us? Did you see all that stuff he was doing? Did you notice his body? I think we should wait for a more opportune time," Sharon replied.

"I think you're just a big 'fraidy cat, but you could be right about the angry thing. It's best not to provoke him. Shhh, here he comes."

He was wearing a dress shirt and a pair of slacks. They ensemble looked expensive.

"What are those slacks made of?" Sharon asked.

"They're Thai silk. I got them in Bangkok, same as the shirt. Do you like it?"

"Oh yeah, I've never seen a silk shirt, Can I touch it?"

"Okay."

Sharon sat down next to him on the couch. She tentatively reached out her hand and felt the smooth silk. "Ooo, it's so smooth. Was it expensive/"

"No I won it in a tournament."

"So all those rumors are true. You really are a martial arts expert?"

"Guilty as charged. But I never hurt people unless they are trying to hurt me. Do you girls want some lunch?"

"Please," answered Cheryl.

"How do you feel about sushi? It is really healthy and it tastes good."

"Okay, I've never had it before, but we'll try it, won't we Cheryl?"

"Great! Let's go down to the sushi joint and chow down."

"We can't run to the sushi joint at lunch time," said Sharon.

"I know, it's twelve miles away and you two would never make it. We'll take my car."

"You have a car and you run everywhere?"

"Well, not everywhere. Follow me."

They followed him to the garage. Inside was a brand new yellow Firebird. 

"That must have cost you a fortune," Sharon exclaimed.

"No, I won it in a contest. Get in."

He drove slowly to the sushi joint. They went inside. "Ah, Mr. Taylor, would you like a table for three?"

"Yes, please Ishi, and let the girls look at your selections, please."

"Of course, Mr. Taylor. Please follow me," he said to the girls.

The girls followed him into the sushi preparation area. Fish was everywhere, but it didn't smell fishy. It smelled fresh. They watched, fascinated, while the sushi chef prepared several selections for the patrons.

"What did you think?" John asked as they returned to the table.

"They didn't cook anything. It was all raw!"

"That's what sushi is. It is prepared on usually served on a small roll of rice with condiments. I really think you should give it a try."

"Okay, we'll try it but if we don't like it, can we go to McDonalds?" Cheryl begged.

"I'll take you to the poison palace if you just can't stand the sushi. Give us a large combination platter," he said to the waiter. "And bring us some herb tea."

The girls were surprised at how good the meal was. Micky D's was definitely out.

"Where do you want to go now?" he asked. "I don't run until four o'clock."

"Run, why are you going to run? I thought exercise was over."

"I run ten miles every day on the weekend because I don't get to run to school. I can't let that fat start."

"Let's drive out to the lake," Sharon suggested. 

"Okay," agreed Cheryl. 

John drove toward the lake. He was a very good driver, not like a teenager at all. The girls were glad that he didn't try that juvenile 'scare 'em' stuff.

Never one to let an opportunity pass, Cheryl said, "Maybe we can go skinny dipping."

This yielded a sharp look from Sharon. "You go skinny dip. I'm staying dry."

"We'll come back sometime when we have swim suits," laughed John. "By the way, Cheryl, you seem to be anxious to get me nude. Is there a reason for that?"

"Well, we've heard rumors that you are not as small as you look."

"What do you mean?"

"Cheryl wants to look at your thingy," replied Sharon.

"Do you want to see it too?" John asked incredulously.

"No, I'll go somewhere if you want to show it to her. I'm not ready for that with you yet."

"You don't have to go anywhere. I'm not waving my wick around for Cheryl,"

Cheryl was pouting. "I'm gonna take a little walk," she said as she got out of the car. "Are you coming Sharon?"

"No I'll just stay here and talk to John."

Cheryl stalked angrily away from the car and was soon out of sight over a small hill.

"Your friend is too fast for my taste," John said.

"She is a little bold. She told me she was gonna try to get you to fuck her."

"Ain't gonna happen. I would have to know someone very well before I'd even consider it," replied John. "Would you like to go to a movie tonight?"


Little Big Man



"Okay, but don't tell Cheryl. She's a good friend despite her forward tilt. I don't want to hurt her."

"I have never had much time for girls, so I'm pretty amateurish when it comes to women. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all. Which movie do you want to see?"

"You pick the movie and give me a call. We'll go where ever you choose."

"I'll call you about six," she agreed. "Here comes Cheryl. She doesn't look angry any more."

Cheryl plopped down in the car. John fired up the engine and drove them back to town. He dropped them off at Sharon's house.

As they went inside Sharon said, "See? I told you to go slow. Now her probably thinks we're a couple of sluts."

"I don't care what he thinks. I wanna see that pecker!"

John strolled into his house. He knew he had been maneuvered into a date. Girls were very crafty people and he knew he'd have to keep his wits about him if he was to survive. He looked on the whole dating scene as a mantrap. 

At six on the dot the phone rang. "Hi Sharon," he answered. "Did you pick a movie?"

"I want to go to the drive in."

"Okay, what time can I pick you up?"

"Have you eaten yet?"

"No, do you want to have something to eat?"

"Could we go back to the sushi joint?"

"Sure. When?"

"How about seven?"

"I'll pick you up at seven. Casual?"

"Of course, see you then."

He realized with dismay that he had been out smarted again. What possible benefit could she be getting from outwitting him? 

He pulled the Firebird into her driveway at precisely seven o'clock. "Come in," she called from the door. He got out and approached the house. "What now?" he thought.

She held the door for him and followed him inside. "This is my mama and daddy," she smiled.

Mama turned out to be a short woman with curly hair and flashing blue eyes. Daddy was a huge man who looked like he had led a pretty rough life. He seized John's hand and shook it, surprised at how solid it was. John was so small he had expected the "dish rag" grip. He smiled at John.

"Sharon tells us you are into martial arts," he said.

"Yes, sir, I am."

"You have a firm grip. I like that. We can't have our daughter dating weaklings, now can we?"

"No, sir, I guarantee, I'm no weakling."

"Ernest, leave the boy alone. Next thing, you'll be wrestling on the floor!" chirped mama.

"Oh, Katie, I'm just getting acquainted."

"I'm ready to go," Sharon said.

"Please have her back by midnight," daddy requested.

"Yes, sir."

They got in the car a started toward the restaurant. "Daddy is such a pain!" she said.

"No, he's just looking out for his little girl."

"I'm not a little girl! I'm eighteen and I'm a woman!"

"I now that and you know that but daddy will never know that. You will always be his little girl," John smile at her.

"I guess you're right, but it is so embarrassing sometimes."

"Don't be embarrassed on my account. I have to deal with that "little boy" crap all the time."

Once again, they enjoyed the pleasures of an expert sushi chef. "We still have an hour until the movie starts. What do you want to do?" asked John.

"Let's go walk through the park and enjoy the evening," she answered. 

They got out of the car at the park and walked up a secluded path. For the first time, he held her hand. He squeezed it a little and she squeezed back. He was surprised he was enjoying this so much. They walked past the duck pond and sat on a park bench. He put his arm around her waist. She snuggled in close to him. Time just seemed to fly by. Before they knew it, it was time for the movie to start. 

He looked at her as he drove down the hill to the entrance of the drive in. He couldn't figure out what was attracting him, but he recognized that whatever it was, it was something powerful.

"Where do you want to park?" he asked.

"Near the back."

He found a suitable spot and secured the speaker to the window. She offered her hand again and he took it. "Let's get in the back. This isn't going to be very comfortable," he suggested. He was right. The bucket seats were a major interference.

She quickly agreed and they got in the back seat. It wasn't large, but it definitely yielded more room than the front. She slid over next to him and snuggled under his arm. The lights went out. The movie started. She wriggled a little closer. He hugged her shoulder as she melted into him.

He had never felt this way before. His hormones were boiling inside his body and he didn't recognize the unfamiliar sensations that were being generated. He looked at her. She was staring at him. Her lips parted. He could see her little pink tongue waiting just inside. She moved up and kissed him full on the mouth. It was his first kiss. She probed his lips with her tongue and he parted his lips a little. Her tongue darted inside his mouth and found his tongue. She teased it into her mouth and sucked on it.

His well ordered world exploded into an ambush of passion. Those unfamiliar sensations grew in stature until they overwhelmed his being. Her hand was on his chest, rubbing, feeling, groping. 

"What are you doing to me?' he panted.

"I'm loving you. Haven't you ever been loved?"

"No, but I think I like it."

She dragged his hand to her breast. 

He could feel the soft flesh, even through her bra and blouse. It was so warm and soft. He wanted more, but was unsure about how to do it. He started by unbuttoning her blouse. He slid his hand inside and felt her bra covered tits. He slipped his hand under the bra and felt real female flesh for the first time.

She moaned as she felt his hand on her bare breast. She had never let a boy feel her up before. This was great! She loved the feel of his hard, muscular hand on her body. She wanted more, a lot more. She let her hand drift to his thigh. She heard him groan. She was sliding her hand upward when the lights came on. Intermission. Just in time!

"I've never felt this way before," he commented.

"Neither have I. We should take it slow. I want more but I don't know what I want more of."

"Are you a virgin?" he asked.

"Yeah, how about you?"

"I thought that would be obvious, since I don't know what I'm doing."

"I really like what we were doing during the movie, but I got the feeling that if we went just a little farther, I wouldn't be able to stop," she remarked.

"I got the same feeling. We'll have to be careful and not get carried away. You are showing me a whole new world. I'm beginning to understand what all the excitement is about."

As the lights dimmed for the second feature, she slid her hand under his shirt and tickled his nipples. He returned the favor, rolling her nipples between his fingers as she moaned softly into his neck. She offered her lips and he took them, nibbling on one and then the other. She really liked that. His tongue probed her open mouth and again they were lost in a deep lover's kiss. He loved the feel of her tongue as it slipped wetly past his. He sucked on it and played with it.

He felt her hand on his thigh again. She slowly let it slip up between his legs and soon found his rigid cock. She squeezed it gently through his pants. She felt his fingers slide under the elastic band on her panties. Soon he was fingering her vulva. He rubbed her gently and felt her wetness on his hand. Curious, he raised the hand to his nose. She watched as he licked her juices off his fingers. It was so sexy!

She knew she was reaching the point of no return. He sensed it too and said, "We better slow down for a while. Let's watch the movie. What's it about, anyway?"

"Beats me! I've been too busy to watch. You're right. We should calm down for a while. I could feel myself slipping away again."

So they sat and watched the rest of the movie with just a little light kissing and touching. She buttoned her blouse and when the lights came on, they drove away. It was ten thirty. They had an hour and a half to kill before midnight.

"I think maybe I should take you home," John offered.

"Let's go sit in the park for a while. The night is warm and I'm in the mood for a little more of you," she said.

They drove back to the park and sat in the dark holding hands and kissing. In ten minutes they were thoroughly entwined with each other. She had her tongue half way down his throat and was stroking his cock through his trousers. His watch alarm went off just as they reached the ignition point again.

"We've got to go. I don't want to piss your father off."

"I'm almost at the point of saying, I don't care, but you are right. Let's go"

She wearily dragged herself off the bench and followed him to the car. He drove her straight home, arriving at eleven twenty. Daddy would be pleased. He walked her to the door. She turned around, put her hands around his neck and jammed her tongue into his wanting mouth. "I'm gonna tell Cheryl tomorrow that you are mine."

"Okay, I hope this doesn't ruin your friendship."

"She'll just have to get over it. She may try to get you to date her. I would rather you don't."

"Does that mean you want to be my steady girlfriend?"

"I guess it does."

"You have to tell mama and daddy so they'll now what that means."

"I will. Goodnight" She kissed him again.

He floated home. He had never felt this way before. His view of the future was changing. Now, there was a woman sharing it. He wasn't sure if that was bad or good, he just knew he kind of liked it. He couldn't wait for next weekend.

Saturday, and the phone rang again. "Hi, honey." 

"How did you know it was me?" she asked.

"I've got to do my exercises."

"Can I watch?"

"Sure. Come on over."

Twenty minutes later the doorbell rang. He opened it and she walked in with her gym clothes on.

"I've decided to try some of this exercise stuff," she announced.

"Great! You can start by doing just a few of the things I do. When we're done if you are not too tired, I'll teach you a little self defense."

"Super!" she answered. "By the way, where is your father?"

"He's been deployed to Korea for a couple of months."

"You mean, we're all alone here?"

"Yup."

"Super!"

"Let's start," he commanded. "Just do what I do, but do it slower and not as many times. I don't want you to get hurt."

He started his routine. She tried to keep up, but it was impossible. It was much harder than it looked when he was doing it. Half way through, she dropped to the floor, gasping for air. As usual, he looked completely relaxed and at ease. "You should have taken it easier," he admonished.

"I'll try to do better next time. We'd better skip the karate lesson for today."

"Okay, I'll drive you to the park and you can watch while I run or you can join me."

"Ten miles? There is no way I could do that."

"Maybe you could just do a couple of laps around the pond and wait for me."

"Okay, let's go."

He drove them to the park. The run started with her jogging along with him. The further they went. The slower she got. Finally she said, "I'll just wait for you here on the bench."

He took off at a rapid pace. When he came out of the woods and rounded the pond, there were two guys with her. They had her arms and legs and were carrying her off. She was struggling and yelling for help. He ran out in front of the two apes.

"Get out of the way, punk. This isn't any of your business."

"Turn her loose and live. Hold her and live in pain," John answered.

They dropped her to the ground and tried to pounce on him, but he was much too fast. As the first one passed him, he chopped the guy in the throat. He hit the dirt and tried to breath. The other guy turned and charged. John caught him in midstride and delivered a crippling blow to the groin. The ape collapsed holding his nuts and screaming, "I'll get you for that."

John walked quietly over to the one holding his balls. "You don't learn very easy." John broke his arm in three places with one blow. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the other guy running toward him. He sidestepped and kicked the guy in the knees. He heard something crack. The ape collapsed. "You are another slow learner," he whispered, kicking the other knee out of joint. He looked at them closely to determine if they were disabled. "Stay away from my park. If I see you here again, I'll kill you."

He gathered Sharon into his arms and carried her to the car. She wept all the way home. He took her into his house and sat her on the sofa. "How badly did they hurt you?"

"I've got some cuts and scrapes on my hips and my left arm is hurting."

He went to the bathroom and got his medical relief kit. She was still sobbing on the sofa. "Take off your shirt," he ordered.

She pulled the shirt off over her head revealing a new sports bra. He examined the cut on her arm and applied some disinfectant to it. "Now the pants," he said.

She unashamedly removed her jogging pants. She had on a white see through panty. He could clearly see her crease in it. He examined and treated her legs. "Anywhere else?"

"No, that's it."

"Just sit there for a while and don't move. After the medicine dries, I'll give you a massage."

"Oh good!" she answered. "You know those guys were going to rape me."

He nodded.

"You saved me."

He nodded.

They watched TV, her in her panties and bra, him in his exercise clothes. He was admiring her curves and bumps. He thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

She, of course, caught him checking her out. "Oh, you naughty boy! And with me wounded!"

"I can't help it. You have true beauty, inside and out."

"You haven't checked out the inside yet."

"You know what I mean. Did you tell your folks that we are an Item?"

"Yes."

"What did daddy say?"

"He said that it was about time for me to join the grownup world."

"What did mama say?"

"She gave me the baby lecture and a pack of condoms."

He stood toe to toe with her and kissed her. His blood was boiling and so was hers.

"Follow me," he commanded.

As he entered his room with her trailing close behind him, he shucked his exercise suit leaving him is a jock strap.

Her eyes got big when she saw his granite buns. He turned around and she took off her bras and panties. He removed his jock. His erect eight inch cock swayed in front of her. Her eyes got bigger.

"It probably won't fit," she ventured.

"We'll test your theory," he replied as he pinched her erect nipples. She sighed and stepped into him. She could feel his erection pressing against her bare crotch. It felt like a salami.

They fell together on his bed. His hands sought her pussy. When he found it, he rubbed and rolled her outer lips. He felt her moisture in his palm. "I must taste that," he told her. 

She opened her legs a little and he kissed her thighs. She opened a little more a he slid his tongue toward her treasure. The aroma rising from her slit was overwhelming. He licked it. It had a salty, sweet flavor. He stuck his tongue into her vagina. Her hips bucked as he licked her hard. It tasted great and smelled great. He could do this forever. 

Her hands went around his head as she pulled him on top of her. "I want it now," she whispered. She had his erection in her hands. She pulled it to her center. 

"If you want to quit, now's the time," he sighed.

"Take me now! Make me your woman!" she demanded. 

His cock started into her opening and soon met with the resistance of her innocence. She locked her legs around his butt and jerked him into her. She screamed as her cherry departed, never to return. A little blood and a lot of pussy juice mottled the sheet. Her legs beat a tattoo on his rump, forcing him deeper. She shed not a tear.

He stroked rapidly into her and she returned his ministrations stroke for stroke. They didn't know how to make it last and so soon; he felt his semen rising in his balls. She was humping madly away. She screamed as she came, milking his cock, wanting it all. He burst deep inside her. She felt the warm, gooey semen jetting into her. She loved it.

He lay on top of her breathing heavily. She was lying under him thinking how great life was. Both of them came to a realization at the same time. "We forgot the condom!" they chorused.

"Well, it's too late now," she commented. "You might as well leave it in me. I love the way it feels."

"Your father will kill me if I've made you pregnant. I am so sorry."

"I'm not. At least now I know that wonderful feeling of being shot full of cum. This is so cool. I love you!"

What? What? Had he heard her right? She loved him? "What did you say?"

"I said, I love you, it is the truth. I don't care if you love me or not. I just know I love you."

"I'm not sure if I love you. I don't know what love is. I know that any time I'm with you, I feel wonderful. I know I want to see a lot more of you. Maybe that's love."

"Whatever it is, it's good enough for me! You may be little to the rest of the world, but you're a great big man to me!"



Little Big Man



********** 

A series of stories with transgender themes which I hope will be of interest to those who like women, or would like to be a woman. Which includes me! 

********** 

It really is difficult to believe. Out of such chaos and misery could come such bliss. The misery was quite a while ago now, that fateful day when I arrived home devastated. That afternoon old Gilligan had called us all in, the whole sales team. The company had decided to restructure and we were out. All five of us. Out on our ears, with immediate effect. 

"The weekend starts now," he had said. "And don't bother coming in Monday." 

Sacked, at my age. OK, the other four guys, none of them was over 25 but me, well, I was 'over the hill' at 35, certainly in this trade, what chance would an 'old man' like me have of finding another job? Certainly not in Hackfield. Most cities may have two or three other possible businesses where I could use my skills but not Hackfield. It was Gilligan's firm or nothing.

I had to hand in the keys to the company car, and take the bus home. What indignity. Walking down the road towards the house I wondered what I was going to tell Leslie. But it didn't matter. I called out as I opened the door - no reply, maybe she was visiting someone, even shopping perhaps. I opened the door to the lounge. And yet more disaster, the ultimate disaster I had always dreaded, faced me.

There strewn across the floor, were my clothes. Not my suits, my sweaters, pants. My 'other' clothes. My dresses, bras, panties, and my makeup bottles and tubes and my shoes and my padding. Leslie had found them. Obviously. Hell, and my photo album. They were ruined, all ruined. The dresses were torn or cut, the tights were ripped, the make-up was all in a big bag, tubes opened, everything smeared and mixed up. My shoes had been broken, all the heels had been hit with a hammer or something. And my breast-forms, my prize dressing item, they were cut and pulled apart. Un-usable, the lot.

And in the middle of all this mess, in the middle of the lounge, was a letter. Addressed to 'Mike - or - whoever - you think - you - are'. I opened the envelope. Loads of cash fell out, all in fifties and hundreds. I counted them, several thousand. What the heck?

I looked again, there was a letter.

'Mike. You disgusting pervert. So this is where all our money has gone. Here is exactly your half of what we have left. Get out of my house before nine o'clock or I'll use my half to pay someone to beat you so senseless. How could you, you bastard? L."

No 'love from Leslie', obviously. 

I looked again, she had torn several sheets out of the photo album. All showing me in varying states of undress, usually with really tarty make-up, shoving one of my dildos or something else similarly shaped up my ass.

This was it. The end. I had three hours to get out. I could do it of course, grab a couple of suits and so on and go. But go where. And then do what? No job, no wife, no house - it was hers, inherited from an aunt. I just sat there and felt very sorry for myself. Finally I knew the only way out. I walked back into the hall and opened the small drawer by the phone and took out my gun. I went back into the lounge, sat on the floor surrounded by the remains of all my finery. I put the barrel into my mouth and pulled the trigger.

It clicked. That's all, it just clicked. Then I noticed the ammunition clip was empty. I checked in the drawer again, she had not left me even that way out, she had taken it. I sat down again in the middle of the lounge floor and looked round. It was not all there. All the stuff I had hidden in the loft was there, all in tatters or ruined.

But - a small ray of optimism. My new tart's outfit stuff wasn't. I'd left it in the garage, well out of the way behind some old tools so that I could get at it that weekend. When Leslie had been due to be at her mother's, when I had been going to dress up really sexy and do disgusting things with my new maxi-dildo. I'd got all the stuff out of the loft - maybe Leslie hadn't found that.

I rushed into the garage and pulled the tools out of the way. The two bags were still there, untouched. I dragged them out and into the house and up to the bedroom. It was at that point that I think I became rather mentally unhinged. I remember everything I did but I can't for the life of me explain why.

It was because a single realisation came to me. No job, no house, no wife. Nothing. In a way I was free - suddenly - from convention. Heck, I'd just tried to commit suicide, that was certainly unconventional. My thought processes seemed logical to me though I do realise now I was definitely unhinged. I seemed to be moving automatically. In the bedroom I stripped. In the shower I smeared Leslie's depilatory cream all over my body and watched my light brown body hair sink down the plughole. I'd always thought of removing all my body hair but I had always chickened out, afraid of what Leslie might say.

I dashed back into the bedroom with the bag and pulled out the new breast-forms I had bought from one of the bags. Totally unrealistically I had wanted, in the privacy of my own house and alone, to show the biggest pair of boobs I could possibly get away with. By that I mean which I thought I would look good in, me with my slightly warped and twisted mind. Which is why the breast-forms were a little on the large side. I had measured them earlier, I thought I'd end up with 48-DD boobs. Not just big, but very big.

I unwrapped them and smeared the adhesive over the back, then lay back for a few minutes to allow them to adhere to my chest. I thought I had better put a bra on while I was still slightly lying down so that standing up wouldn't put too much strain on the adhesive. I had my silver 48-DD bra ready.

The next hour seemed to fly by, again I remember absolutely everything I did but have little real idea of the thought processes which went through my head. But I have an over-riding image in my head, at the end of that time, of sitting on the stool in the hall, looking into the long mirror there, and trying to dial the phone with my long nails. Long vermilion nails that is, a deep bright red color and long, nearly an inch longer than my own. Totally impractical but I still have the memory of extreme satisfaction in wearing nails which went with the rest of my 'look'. Over the top, that was the idea.

I looked so very over the top. I had never been of the opinion that I could make a convincing woman when I was dressed. Too tall for one thing, just six foot. OK I know there are quite a few women that tall but they are mainly sensible, very few have a penchant for stiletto pumps with six-and-a-half inch spike heels. I did. As I looked in the mirror I liked what I saw, even more than I had done in the past. The shiny black patent pumps showed off my long legs well, as did my sheer black seamed stockings. As I sat there listening to the dial tone for a few seconds my eyes moved upwards in the mirror, over my long sexy legs, past my knees, across the smooth acres of thigh exposed by my too-short skirt. I smoothed my stockings, revelling in the experience as I watched my red-tipped fingers oh-so smoothly sliding across my nylon-covered flesh.

"Er - hi there. Can I have a taxi please? Yes, as soon as possible. Yes, that's right". 

I gave the girl on the line my address, placed the receiver down and waited. I knew the taxi firm quite well, Leslie and I had used them a few times. They were quick, the girl on the line had said less than ten minutes, I knew she would be right. I stood up and looked again into the mirror, my gaze continuing to scan upwards. Past the high hemline of my tight black leather micro-skirt, past the tight silver top which hugged my figure closely and showed it to best effect.

And what an effect. The tight top over my bulging tits, the low cleavage revealed, I was delighted with the results of the 'make-over' on my chest with the new bulging boobs, the smoothness of the surface covering the edges where the breast-forms met my own skin. I looked carefully, I just couldn't see the join. I had 'real', massive, tits! Wow!

I remembered a comment from the assistant in a trannie shop where I had once gone for a make-over - Harriet, I think her name was. I had tried to get her to tell me just how good I did look. She had been reluctant, then I realised she hadn't wanted to lie but didn't want to put off a potential customer. Finally she had come clean, basically saying that I was too tall and had the wrong sort of face to be really mistaken for a woman.

Maybe sitting down she had said, and certainly not in daylight. I had thanked her for being honest, she had finished by telling me to keep away from high heels. I almost told her 'I'm a transvestite - I can't', but I didn't say it.

As I heard the taxi pull up outside I glimpsed my legs again in the mirror. So much for Harriet's advice! I checked my make-up once more. The long smooth blond-ish hair, the very carefully over-made-up face, I liked what I saw. Obviously. I had gone too far with the make-up but that had been deliberate. Quite heavy over my face, black eyeliner, thick false eyelashes with deep coal-black mascara. I had even shaved off my own eyebrows and replaced them with careful application of eyebrow pencil. The full effect, offset by thick gold hoop earrings, a wide gold choker, three bracelets, five big heavy 'gold' rings on my fingers. I looked good. But then I would think that wouldn't I?

Just for once I didn't care if any of the neighbours saw me. This was to be my final exit. Outside my front door for the last time, I checked in my purse, id cards - well, maybe I should keep them. Make-up, Leslie's letter and the cash, keys. Keys? Wouldn't need them. I took them out and posted them back in through the letter box of the locked door. Finished. Michael was finished. I turned and strode proudly out to the taxi, head held high, chest thrust out, boobs bouncing, boy did that feel good! 

I looked at the taxi-driver, his mouth was open at the sight heading towards him but he didn't drive away. I opened the door and got in.

"OK" I said, thrusting a fifty note at him. "Drive."

He did. As soon as we got out of the street and round the corner I leaned over towards the driver's compartment and in as sexy an impression of a female voice as I could manage, which was probably not very female at all, I told him to drive me to the truck-stop just outside Hackfield, on the northern side of the freeway.

I couldn't see his face but I did hear a grunt from him, a rather disdainful sound. He knew what was going on. I know now why I had chosen that particular place though at the time I really was still on autopilot, just reliving out a fantasy without really considering any sort of consequences. I'd seen a report in the local paper about that place, it had been raided by the cops a month or so earlier and several trannie hookers had been arrested there. Trannie hookers? Well, now that could well be me.

It was getting dark when the taxi pulled in outside the truck stop there. I handed the driver a fifty and beamed at him saying 'Thank you darling' in a rather silly high-pitched voice. Totally unconvincing. He sneered at me and drove off. I turned. I pushed open the door - and I went in. I stood there on the threshold and looked. There were about five or six men in there. They all turned to look at me. I froze.

I heard the door close behind me, heard the grating squeak of a badly-oiled hinge, and shivered at the noise. I 'woke up'. Came out of my reverie or whatever it was. Suddenly I was awake, totally, more awake perhaps than I had ever been in my life. I looked round. Hell!

The guys in there were all looking at me. Not surprising really considering what I looked like. I could just about see my reflection in the plate glass at the side of the truck stop. It was really getting dark outside, the reflection was quite clear. And what did I look like? A trannie, that's for sure. Far too tall and too well-built for a woman, I was sure absolutely every man in that diner was looking at this totally tarted-up transvestite in disgust. So how the hell was I going to get out of this? How was I going to get out of that diner alive?

I shivered again. There was no way I could run away. The taxi had gone, I was on my own. I just had to, in some way, brave it out. I had never really thought of myself as having courage but it must have taken some nerve to do what I did next. 

I walked forwards towards the bar, remarkably steadily considering my skyscraper heels. Looking back I am amazed I did it. My very first outing dressed up. And here I was, strolling down between the tables. It did feel good.

All sorts of emotions washed over me. The main one was simply pride. I was proud of myself. Proud of the way I looked. Proud of being, in some way, a woman. What the hell, I knew I looked like a man in a skirt. A pansy, a poofter, a fag, a guy tarted up, a caricature of a woman. But I loved it. Even the leers from the truckers in there, they began to cat-call as I approached the bar. As a guy I had been average, middle of the road, a nothing really. But as a woman, like this, I was something even if the closest words to describe me were probably 'trannie slut'

"Well hello there, gorgeous."

I stopped. I shook. The guy sat at the bar had just spoken to me. He was looking straight at me, at ME! At the slut right in front of him! I smiled rather weakly and took a deep breath, in some way feeling my massive fake tits swell out as I did so. He noticed that! I moved forward again, more confident in my ultra-high heels now, and slid my tightly wrapped bum onto the stool next to him. I sat up tall and proud and enjoyed yet again that wonderful feeling I had experienced so often in the privacy of my own kitchen as I slid one nylon-encased leg over the other.

"Well hello there honey" I purred in as provocatively sexy a voice as I could manage. 

I heard myself and thought there and then 'That sounds pretty good - Michelle'. Michelle? Well, or course. Like many TVs I had chosen a name a little similar to my original name. Michael? Well, right now I was obviously Michelle.

"And what do you call yourself, little lady?"

I heard the mocking mutterings from the other five or six guys in the diner, not very loud but loud enough for me to hear.

"Lady - huh!!"

"Little lady, what a laugh!!"

"Little, that he isn't, not with those tits eh?"

I tried to ignore them and turned back to the guy who had asked me.

"Michelle" I said, not muttering now, much more clearly, much more confident. 

And very daringly I reached out and laid my right hand on his. What the fuck was I thinking about? Well, to this day I really don't know. That 'madness' which had taken me over was still there to some extent. I was still not in total control of my actions, going through the motions of being a trannie slut without really realising it. I was oblivious to the consequences, just acting out a fantasy without thinking about it. Fantasy, yes, I got a real thrill as I looked down and saw my own somewhat feminine-looking hands, extra-long scarlet fingernails and all, caressing that guy's own big gnarled hands.

"And what do they call you, lover?" 

Had I really said that? The tittering and cat-calling carried on behind me but this time I didn't look. Autopilot or not, I was still enjoying myself.

"I'm called Big Mack" he said.

The noise behind me increased, it sounded much more than the few men I knew were really there.

"Hush up you all!" called out Mack, looking past me at the 'crowd'. 

Suddenly it quietened. 

"Well, Michelle. I reckon after what happened in here last week you've got some guts and I'd like to buy you a drink. How about it? I've been on the road for two weeks now and I ain't getting any and my old woman's prob'ly shacked up with the bastard from the store she works at. All I've done is jack myself off ev'ry night for two whole weeks so I reckon I deserve some. And since there ain't no others queuing up for me, honey, I reckon you may well do me just fine."

At which, to my total amazement, Big Mack moved his hand away from mine and slid it up my leg, from just above my knee until it was so nearly sliding up under my micro-mini. I shivered. Hell, I shook visibly, this was SO amazing, I just couldn't believe it. Had it happened at last? Had I - got myself a man?

"Hold on Mack." A voice came from behind me. I was about to turn when, out of the edge of my view another man, almost as wide as Mack, moved between us. "Let's find out what this 'girl' is out for. I heard about last week too, the trannie guy was asking twenty dollars a suck and got greedy when somebody wanted to fuck him. So how much is this big tart charging?"

I looked at him, then across at the other four men behind him, still sat, hardly eating, intent on the events unfolding in front of them. They were all, well, nearly all, well built guys. Apart from Mack and this guy, one of the others seemed tall, two of the others were shorter but all of them were big and wide except for the tall skinny guy at the back. Any one of them, except maybe him, was quite capable of beating me to a pulp if he wanted, indeed probably any one of them could kill me with his bare hands. I smiled at the big guy.

"So honey, what's your name then?"

"He's Fat Jack" butted in Mack. "Hold your horses, Jack, I'm first. I can see your snake is getting excited already bit you can wait your turn, I'm first."

He turned and spoke to me, again putting his hand on my leg and this time sliding it just a little up under my skirt to reveal my stocking tops and a hint on my bare thigh. I looked down between Jack's legs, then at the same area below Mack's belt and realised. These guys were all excited. Both their cocks were getting larger. And I had done that! Whatever else happened, had done this, got these two men aroused and in all likelihood the other guys too.

"Well Mack, I'm not greedy. Not for money anyway. How about buying a girl a drink? A gin and tonic and then I'm yours."

Mack didn't need to be asked twice, he looked towards the guy behind the counter who moved quickly and then put the glass down in front of me. He raised an eyebrow at Mack, then went back and came back with a large bourbon which he handed over to Mack.

"Cheers" I said, smiling, raising my glass towards Mack and drinking deeply.

I was ready for that. I usually drank beer, never was too hot on harder liquor, but this time the G and T seemed more suitable. Mack took over half of his double down in one go and then reached over to touch my neck ever so gently, though he wasn't so careful when he slid his hand down and over my 'breasts', and then had a feel down in my cleavage.

"Now, darling, take your time" I cooed, trying to look and sound sexy. 

But Mack was not so keen to wait, he was aroused and in something of a hurry. He squeezed my right breast and got up off his stool, reaching to grab my right hand and drag me after him towards the corner of the bar. Not private, not secluded, but not quite so on display as we had been sat up at the bar.

I was new to this but I had fantasised about it so often that I knew the drill, or at least I knew one version of it, the one I had read about in so many stories and dreamt about so often. It started with a kiss. I was ready for that as I sat down next to Mack and his big meaty hand settled yet again on my thigh, this time sliding up even further than before. He looked down sat my exposed stocking tops, at the garters holding up my sheer seamed stockings, and groaned.

"Christ. Michelle or whoever you are, you do sure as hell turn me on. I haven't felt so horny in years. Come here!"

I was kinda ready for anything at that stage, but not for the ferocity of Mack's advances. Within seconds he had pulled me on top of him and grabbed my ass close to him so that my tiny thong and my bulging ass-cheeks were exposed to the world. Or at least to all the other guys who had moved up closer to our corner so they could watch. Mack buried his face in my neck, nuzzling me hard with his lips and his unshaven chin, then pulled my top away from my shoulder to reveal my very ample and well-filled bra cups.




Little Big Man



"Jeez you do make one helluva woman" he moaned as he tried to slide a hand inside to pull out my bulging tits. "You sure smell like a tart should, I've seen some trannies in my time but honey you do sure take the prize. Heck, I need to get my monster out."

Mack had to heave me to one side, he was none too gentle with me, to try to unzip his pants. Not that I was ever in control of the situation but at that moment he definitely was, I decided that I needed to in some way assert my 'womanhood'. I leaned and nibbled gently in his ear, noticing the traces of bright red lipstick I was leaving there.

"And you, my darling," I murmured "You are one helluva man. So, lover, let me help you there."

And I did! I really did! In the corner of the bar, with half a dozen other guys watching me, I reached out and pulled down the zip of his pants, surprising myself at how well I did it despite the scarlet 2" nails which I was wearing.

I slid my fingers in and grabbed his bulging cock, pulling it free. Mack sighed with relief that it was freed from its prison. I could see it now for what it was, the very first man's cock I had held other than my own. It was only about 6" long and not really very thick. But it was my first. I felt so proud, I just had to lean down and tease the very tip of the bulging cock-head with my tongue. The taste was really something, I had expected it to taste salty in some way, I was rather surprised at the creaminess and the texture of his pre-cum.

But I wanted more. I pulled at his pants and then at his shorts so that the whole lot, his cock and his swelling scrotum, were exposed. And more than that, available. I was really not too sure exactly what Mack had in mind so I set to it quickly, fondling his balls and sliding my red-tipped fingers gently along the whole length of his exposed cock. I looked up.

Mack himself was lying back against the bench, eyes closed, with a look of extreme contentment on his face as I traced my fingers back and forth. I looked round. All the other guys in there were staring. And Fat Jack was at the bar, looking over, and had his own cock out, he was wanking as he watched us going at it.

"Mack, my darling. What would you like me to do now? I only want to please you, my lover. Do you want to fuck my mouth? Do you want me to suck your cock, squirting your gorgeous cum down my throat? Is that what you'd like, honey?"

Had I really said that? Wow!

"Oh please--" Mack groaned, and pushed my head downwards. 

I had no choice - I slipped my rich red lips over his swollen dick. I encircled the bulging head with my tongue and began to tease it, and to move it round with my tongue. Soon I couldn't move it round, it almost filled my mouth. With my left hand I stroked his shaft harder, and with my right hand I squeezed his balls ever so gently, all the while sucking him hard and looking right into his eyes. I kept on sucking and he kept on swelling in my mouth for several minutes, then he grabbed my left 'tit' and began to groan loudly. I couldn't say anything, my mouth was full!

And then it happened, the inevitable. All this time I had been terrified someone would come into the truck stop, a cop maybe, checking up on the place again. But no-one came, no-one interrupted us. And I could tell, I'd been there, done that, that Mack was ready. But the speed with which he reached his climax surprised me. One moment I was happily sucking on his bulging cock as it moved around just a little in my mouth. And the next - well! It was alive! Of course it was. But it really did seem to take on a life if its own, bucking and thrusting and pulsing deep in my throat.

The pulsing was totally amazing. It just shot and shot, what seemed like gallons of hot thick sticky cum, the cock-head was so deep in my throat I couldn't really taste a lot at first, it just shot straight down my gullet. I was determined not to let 'my sex' down, to prove I could give head as well as any other woman, I really did need to show what I was capable of. I clamped my lips tight on Mack's cock all the while as he was cumming, shooting his load into me, fucking my mouth, swallowing hard as it poured down my throat and into my stomach.

"Michelle, fucking hell, that was fucking brilliant".

That was all Mack said as I slid my mouth off his shrinking erection. I looked at him, he was spent. He was just lying back on the bench. Moaning. Sweating. Pleased with himself. And, from the smile he was giving me, pleased with my performance too. I was thrilled. I had satisfied 'my man', performed up to scratch. I wasn't really sure why, it just felt good. It was not until quite some time after that very first experience that I finally understood why.

But I didn't have time to ponder on the philosophy of being a woman at that time. Fat Jack was walking in my direction. And walking rather unsteadily too, his cock was already out, he had probably been playing with it for quite some time and the results were obvious. And it was BIG! So much so that with his pants and shorts open and that thing sticking out he couldn't really walk properly. He limped in my direction.

"OK you cock-sucking faggot. My turn now!"

I looked across at Mack, he almost seemed as if he was going to say something in my support, to say something against the insult which had just been thrown in my direction. Insult, yes, but I would have had to admit that it was true. Mack had recovered enough to speak up a little

"OK Jack, go on, if you think you are man enough" he said with a wide grin across his face.

"Man enough!" called out Fat Jack. "Just you wait, I'll show this big trannie slut what a real man can do!"

"Don't say I didn't warn you, Jack, she's a hell of a performer. Hold onto your balls when she gets going, I'm telling you, she could suck paint off a wall."

Well, in a way Mack was 'defending' me. He had said 'she' - every time he referred to me. But I didn't have time to think about that, Jack was already there, his cock facing me as I sat there, it was only inches from my mouth. His huge cock. I just looked up at him and smiled. I breathed in to swell out my 'tits', slid out a very long nylon-clad leg towards him so that he had to touch it, to grab it, to hold it. And his hand just had to slide along the smooth nylon. As it did so I was watching his huge cock, it jumped, it trembled.

Jack was excited, despite all his talk about 'faggot' and so on. He wanted me! And I wanted him. Already I was an expert on men's cocks. This was my second. I reached a hand up to his bare hairy arm and slid my fingers gently along it, then deliberately dug my long red nails in just a little. The cock in front of me jumped again and a glob of pre-cum began to ooze out. My head darted forward, my lips enveloping the whole of the huge head, my tongue sweeping the juice down my throat. And I began to suck. 

There wasn't time for any foreplay this time, Jack had been starting to wank for several minutes already and was nearly there.

"Christ, you faggot, that feels good. Oh yes, go on, grab my balls. YES! Oh my.... YES!! Oh Michelle, I'm ... I'm .... Cumming now, oh Jeez."

Within thirty seconds he was. I swallowed the huge erection deeply, or as much of it as I could fit in my mouth, as he pumped hot sperm straight down my throat. It felt just as full as Mack's had, and lasted about as long, thrusting and pumping while I tried to swallow. And then, even more quickly than in Mack's case, it subsided as it emptied. And again, there, lying back on the bench beside me with a self-satisfied grin on his face, was a happy man.

I got up and walked over to the bar.

"I think I deserve another drink, don't you?" I asked the guy behind the counter.

"Sure you do" he said, quickly getting another large G and T and setting it down in front of me. I took a small sip. "And - do you want a job?"

"A job?"

"Yeah. Tending bar here, in the evenings. I can pay you well. And you can charge a fortune for what you just did, you could clean up. I bet loads of guys will come in here to get a load of that. You could make a fortune in tips, I guarantee it."

A job? As a barmaid? Hell, why not? I had to do something. OK I had a pile of cash in my bag but that wouldn't last forever. The logistics would take some thinking about - where could I live? And I'd need a lot more clothes, ordinary things like skirts and bras and pantyhose - and flatter shoes of course. 

But how would I live? As a guy most of the time, just changing for work, or as a trannie, or - dare I think it - as a woman? Heck no, I couldn't be convincing enough, I did know that.

"I'll think about it" was my reply. Then something else came to mind. "Where's the john?"

"I think you'd better use the Ladies" suggested the bartender with a smile. "Just through that door over there. Don't get so many ladies in here."

His smile widened. I was tempted to grin back but I decided not to, I was going to play it straight, carry on the pretence of really being a woman. I slipped down off my stool, wriggled to straighten my skirt, and teetered across and into the Ladies' john.

I was surprised when I went in. I knew that the men's equivalent in that place wouldn't be very clean, load of guys in and out all day, some of them not so clean or careful. But this one was different. It was painted a pale lemon color for a start, very sweet smelling, and spotlessly clean. I managed to pull up my skirt and sit on the can and do what I needed, despite my very long nails. Then, sat at the small vanity in there, I re-did my make-up a little, ending with a wide bright slash of fresh lipstick. I was ready again for the fray. Then another thought came to my mind. I slid up my top and managed to remove my bra. I stuffed it into my purse, rearranged my top and undid three more of the buttons down the front.

I looked at my reflection. Yes. Even more than before, I was dripping sex. NOW I was ready for more as I as I wiggled back into the diner and across to the bar. One of the other two guys was sitting there, next to my drink, looking eager.

"Hi there honey" I whispered in his ear as I lifted myself onto my seat next to him. "Ready for some action?"

I was surprised at my bravado but I had taken a break and really did want more. He had obviously decided not to take too long over this, his hand went straight away to my tits. Within seconds I had his pants open at the front, I reached in and pulled out his swelling cock. And within minutes I was revelling again in the thrill of a pumping cock shooting his cum deep down my throat. Another guy satisfied. I looked round for number four, he didn't look so keen. He had been watching everything, and playing with himself, but didn't move at all in my direction.

Maybe I would have to work on this one? Maybe I would have to seduce him, convince him to let me into his pants? I stood up and thrust out my boobs, it must have been obvious I wasn't wearing a bra anymore. My massive mock tits still stood out proudly. The bartender had yet another gin ready for me, rather foolishly I took it down in one.

"Hi there lover, how about a quick blow job?"

"Harlot!" exclaimed number four. 

I must have looked startled.

"Don't worry about Preacher Joe, Missy. You'll get nowhere with him"

I looked round, it was Big Mack who had recovered from his experience. He grabbed me and slid both his big hands round my boobs and buried his mouth in my neck from behind.

"Come on Missy, I'm up and ready again, that suck was so good for me, how would you like a good fucking? My snake is hot and hard, how about me coming up your ass?"

Fucking? Heck, could I? Surely not, the three blow jobs had been totally sensational but could I cope with Mack's organ up my ass? Of course I could. I was tempted to turn round there and then, to pull up my skirt and down my panties. But no. What about Preacher Joe? I couldn't let him defeat me, it hurt my 'womanly pride' to be spurned like that. I grabbed Mack's hands and pulled them away.

"OK handsome but wait your turn. Right Joe, what about it?"

With those words I walked up to Joe again, opened my legs and sat across his thighs with my black nylons exposed, with my tits right in front of his face. He stared. He was sweating. He gave in. Within three minutes, still spouting obscenities and insults, he was shooting his load into my waiting mouth. And there was just one guy left.

I stood up yet again and looked across at Mack who was still there, waiting, playing with his cock.

"Hang on lover, one more yet" I said with a smile, looking across at the tall thin man still sitting with his coffee.

"Come on Little Big Man" called out Mack. "Come and get seen to quick. I'm getting hot and hard and I'm ready fer this lovely lady. I need it up her ass!"

The thin guy stood up hesitatingly. He looked worried but I didn't care, I was going to have him. As I passed the bar I took another drink of the gin I'd left there and swaggered across to him, swinging my hips and bouncing my boobs.

"Little? Big? Which are you honey, let me come and see."

This guy seemed different. He was the only one you could really call handsome. He wasn't as stocky as all the other four or the bartender. Well muscled, yes, he was wearing a tight short-sleeved shirt which revealed a very nice figure. I wondered what I would find 'down below'. I got closer. Heck, he really was handsome. I could play this one differently. Be his girl before sucking him off. Be just a bit romantic, if I could.

I reached 'Little' and reached up to put my arms round his neck, noticing that he reacted automatically, he slid his hands round my waist. Suddenly - I wanted to kiss him. I looked him in the eyes.

"Come here my darling, come to Michelle" I cooed. 

I could see his face looking at me clearly. I felt a hand squeeze my waist, I did so want to.... I stretched my head towards the guy, my lips just touched his...

I heard big Jack's voice.

"Whoa there, Charlie, seems to me you're not taking this seriously. This ain't some woman to kiss and cuddle and take your time with, if you're not going to do this fucking trannie slut right you'd better move over mate, let some real men back into her!"

I felt someone grab my arm and pull me away from 'Charlie', then a shout from behind me. As I turned I saw something glisten and looked round at Charlie, his arm was still round my waist, I saw his face - he looked angry. This time it was him who spoke.

"Hold on Jack. And the rest of you fuckers. You've had your turn and I reckon this little lady's done right by all of you. Now it's my turn. Just 'cause I ain't into a quick suck and blow like the rest of you wankers don't mean I should miss out. So back off - 'less you want to make something of it!"

Then I noticed, the bright flash of reflected light I had glimpsed, Charlie was holding out a switchblade, pointing it towards the other men who were backing off. I was amazed, they were fighting - over me! And Jack wasn't backing off.

"Wait up Charlie, this ain't some gorgeous blonde you might want to marry, friend. This is a fuckin' guy tarted up you're talking about. Is he worth spilling blood for?"

"She, you bastard, it may be a trannie but she's done you a favour tonight, you've got your horn off, Jack, now let us out of here. Or else. I mean it, I ain't messin' and you know it. Your wife might be banging the guy from the store or somethin' while you're away. But mine left me nearly two months ago now and I ain't done nothin' 'cept work since then, tryin' to take my mind off things. So right now I'm gonna get me somethin', somehow. But I'm gonna do it my way. OK?"

I'd never met this guy before but I could tell, his voice said it all, he really was serious. He held out his billfold towards the guy behind the bar.

"OK Carl, take a twenty out of there, we're off out of here. Come on Missy, you're with me."

He grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the other guy. I reached for my purse and tottered after him, not wanting to disgrace myself by falling in my high heels. What was I thinking? Disgrace myself? After what I had done? But I managed to stagger out after him, half being dragged, glimpsing the other guys from the bar standing in the doorway looking after us. And seeing the big guy realise his cock was still out and hurriedly pulling on his zipper to get himself looking decent again.

Charlie pulled me towards a truck, a big truck. Probably no bigger than any other but from real close up it looked big. He reached up to open the door, then grabbed my round ass and boosted me up and into the cab. He pulled himself right up behind me and slammed the door, then shoved me again, over the back of the driving seat. I tensed myself ready to hit the floor of the cab and was surprised to land on something soft. The internal light came on, I was spread-eagled across a mattress on the floor at the back of the cab. I realised I had known about this, that some cabs had some sort of 'built-in bed'. So guys could get some sleep pulled into a lay-by for the night. I tried to sit up but was surprised again when I heard the engine start.

"Hold on Missy" called out Charlie. 

My driver, my 'escort', my kidnapper, whatever, some or all of these. He gunned the engine and I was thrown sideways as he threw the rig into gear and pulled out. I just sat there. Silent. Not, to my immense surprise, worried. Maybe I'd gone past 'worry'. But curious, yes, I wanted to know what this guy meant by 'gonna do it my way'. Then I passed out.

I have now a vague recollection of the journey, but only vague. Maybe about half an hour, some of it along main routes, eventually along a track of some kind. I must have been partially conscious when Charlie leant over the back of the seat and offered his arm to help me climb over. I did so, probably rather indecorously. I really had no choice but to reveal an awful lot of leg and bare thigh to him. I distinctly remember having some trouble with my massive high heels on some gravel somewhere. And giggling about it, the combination of semen and alcohol in my stomach was having a weird effect.

I remember going into the john. I remember vomiting. Then I slept.

And then. I remember waking up, slowly, looking at a rather dirty 'white' ceiling with a single bulb illuminating the room. A bedroom. I was lying on a bed. Again, a slightly dirty bed, it smelt a little. I managed to stand up and then realised - I was not fully clothed! I was not naked, sure, but as I stood there in bra and panties and stockings - I wondered just what had happened. I remembered being at the truck-stop the night before and what had happened there. I knew I had been 'rescued' in some way or other, driven to - to where? 

I moved towards the window, a bit painfully in my stocking-clad feet over the rough floor. I kicked something. My shoes. I knelt over and put them on, instantly growing six inches but happier, feeling feminine to an extent once again. I glimpsed myself in a medium-length mirror stuck to the wardrobe door. My wig was still in place, all my jewellery, and the make-up didn't look too bad either. I pulled the small drapes back from the window and was hit - twice.

The first was the thought - where the hell was I? I could see out clearly, over rolling hills and farmland. Not Hackfield, certainly. And then the second impact - my head! The bright light triggered the instant hangover, and forty or fifty small men inside my skull began beating on my brain with not-very-small hammers. I grimaced at the pain of the mother of all headaches, turning away from the window.

"Mornin' missy, you do look rough. Thought so, you must have had a dozen gins or so last night, not surprisin' is it? Here, get this down you"

I looked up and unscrewed my eyes. This was the guy, the one who had dragged me out of the diner, the one who drove me here. Charlie. That was his name, Charlie. The Little Big Man, that's what someone had called him. But why? I looked towards him, to his hand holding out a tumbler full of a brown liquid with something grotesque and green floating in it.




Little Big Man



"Get that down you, Missy, that's my Grammy's recipe for the demon drink, never fails. Grab your nose though, it smells fuckin' awful!"

I did. I just opened my throat and drunk it down. He was right, I just got a whiff as I finished it, it really was disgusting. And the taste was pretty terrible too.

"Heck Charlie, that is terrible. Where the hell am I?"

"Seemed best to bring you home, and you did sleep solid, specially after all that suckin' last night, I bet. Anyway Missy, it's my turn now!"

Just as he said this - the little men in my head did one more almighty blow, I shouted out at the pain. And they stopped! Suddenly. Within a second - the pain was gone, my head was so very clear I just felt wonderful. I sat up and smiled, noticing my big 'boobs' pressing outwards within the constraint of my bra, noticing my lovely smooth legs once more, encased in nylon, my high heels..... I felt good!

"Always does that" said Charlie. "Big thump and then finished. You ready then? I don't do all that oral stuff, we gonna do it prop'ly. I've had a boner all night thinkin' 'bout you there, Missy, believe me you do still look a picture. Always did like gals in stockings and heels, like most guys I s'pose."

I looked across at Charlie. His pants were down! He really was going to ....

I could have got out of it. Kicked him hard or something but then, where would I go? I didn't really know where I was, on a farm somewhere but - where? And. He had rescued me, I did owe him something. I'd happily have sucked him off but that wasn't what he wanted. 

Quite suddenly, I remember being very surprised at it, I was awake - and I was hungry. Not for food, not even for a taste of Charlie's cum sliding down my throat. But for Charlie's cock in me. So many new and different things had happened and all in the past twelve hours, this was going to be yet another new experience. I wanted to be fucked.

I watched as he removed his shorts. My eyes opened wide. He did have a boner - and what a boner. His cock was erect and - well. I gasped! I was erect, it was hard - and it was big.

"I ain't never done this with a trannie. But right now I'm dog tired and I'm horny as hell. I ain't been sleepin' too well so, let's see how good a trannie slut you are. Tell me, what you gonna be able to do about this?"

OK I'd seen four of them that night but I was no expert on men's cocks. Yet I could see that this one was unusual. It was big and oh-so thick, I just couldn't take my eyes off it. I looked at Charlie and suddenly felt very sorry for him. I had no idea why his wife had left but he had obviously taken it badly. I breathed deeply. Still in no way sure how my day, my week, my life even was going to progress, I wanted to help him. And help me too.

"That's why they call me what they do. I used to be a little kid, not too tall, right up to being about eighteen. But my cock got to full size early so it looked huge. And when I growed it just kept on growin' too. So - Little Big Man, that was the name." 

I did listen - but I was still staring. Charlie's cock was huge, maybe ten or eleven inches long but it seemed so much thicker than any of the others I had seen. How did he ever get that thing inside a woman's cunt? OK, maybe he didn't. But if he was married? Presumably he and his wife had good sex at some time in their marriage. Anyway, I was in some way his 'woman' for the moment.

I breathed a little more deeply and reached out, watching my long red talons begin to stroke it, to see the reaction, to see it swell even more and stand up even more proud. Yes! I wanted it. I wanted that gorgeous bulging piece of meat up my asshole.

I lay back. I opened my stocking-covered legs. Very wide.

"OK. Come on Little Big Man. Let's see what you can do!"

*

© 2003 by Bethany Jacques.