Date: Sun, 09 Jan 2005 12:50:23 -0800
From: Steve Jones <stevie4280@hotmail.com>
Subject: TG Putting on a show, part 1

Putting on a Show, Part 1
By Stevie 4280

This story and its companion "Putting on a Show, Part 2" are based on events
over a weekend of my life in the late 1980s. The names have been changed. No
insult is intended to anyone who may find similarities between themselves
and the people and events described.


I had met the couple through a personal ad in an alternative newspaper. They
were in their 40s and attractive and sought a bisexual cross dresser for
evenings out. I had met the husband alone and we had enjoyed one another's
company. I doubted that I was his first male partner. His wife joined us on
our second meeting and I stood in a corset and stockings while he sucked me
and his wife watched. Now it was a month later and I was back in town in a
motel room dressing for another evening with the couple and on this evening
he called to say his wife wanted to watch me.

I was in my 20s then and although I was smooth shaven, dressed regularly,
generally passable and had recently spent a five days traveling comfortably
in drag I wasn't an experienced gay lover. I had been with only two other
men. I had learned all of what I knew in sex with my steady lover, Kenny,
and a few porn videos. Most important, I had never been watched.
Cross-dressing is of course all about display and I loved being eyed in bars
and didn't even mind being read in public. I was still discrete. I flirted,
but refrained from displays of sexuality. I liked the feel of a hand on my
thigh under a bar table, but only if unnoticed. I kissed in public, but only
in polite kisses with Kenny. Frankly, I felt that I had enough on the line
as a young man dressed as a woman and I wasn't confident I could risk any
more by putting myself on display.

But I had watched women performing oral sex on men. Occasionally it was even
a woman I was dating giving the service when we swapped with other couples.
A blowjob was intensely sexual for me and so was the watching of one and the
thought of performing for others was intoxicating and terrifying. I was
fearful of abuse. I was fearful of being incompetent and embarrassing
myself. What I feared most was being helpless.

That changed that February night when I discovered that oral sex is
powerful. The image of someone on their knees doesn't suggest that, but as a
guy melts into passion between your lips people's impressions can move with
tectonic results. Debbie, the wife of the couple I was meeting, had watched
her husband, Frank, suck me a few weeks before with little response. She sat
on the couch the entire time and they left immediately afterward. But that
evening with the roles reversed, she was in rapture. At points in the
evening she knelt with me over her husband on the bed and passed his cock
from her lips to mine. When I first took it into my throat you would have
thought it was her cock in my mouth from her response. The sight of his cum
on my lips brought both of her hands to her chin in surprise. And then it
was my turn to be surprised when she kissed me. She had her husband put me
on my back at one point while she pulled my cock out of my panties, sucked
me hard and straddled me. But she hopped off when she feared I might cum.

After that her husband asked me to kiss her breasts. It was a roller coaster
of sensations. Her body was damp from the exertion of a few minutes before
and tasted of salt and perfume and maybe bath oil too. She guided my mouth
over her body and then pushed me to her crotch asking me to suck her like I
had her husband. "Let him watch," I recall her saying. And so I did.

I had given women oral sex many times and enjoyed it so I began enjoying
myself again. I slid my tongue through her labia, keeping my face as far as
possible from her body to give Frank a view and also preserve my makeup. She
cooed as I pinched her clitoris against my upper lip with my tongue and
slowly the similarities with a blowjob dawned on me. What I was doing with
my lips and tongue was like working my tongue on the cock head. Pressing my
tongue up on the clitoris was like working my tongue on the loose flesh
below the cock head. It was something I'd learned from my lover Kenny. It
was a sure way to speed him to ejaculation. I sucked her enlarged clitoris
into my mouth and pulled back, just like on a cock. With her clitoris taunt
between my lips I would flick my tongue flapjack, then lap after lap around
the knob and she bucked beneath me, not unlike a man thrusting. She yelped
when she came.

The three of us were on the bed and her husband had been stroking himself
throughout. She asked him to get on his back and she quickly mounted him and
began grinding herself into his hips and brought her orgasm back to a boil
in minutes. Frank soon came as well. Finished, we lounged on the bed
smoking, after which they dressed and left.

It was a thrilling evening, but not satisfying. Within minutes of their
departure I was in front of the mirror redoing my makeup and hair and
preparing to make my first solo trip to a gay club. I had been in a gay club
in drag twice that winter in Seattle; once with my partner Kenny and a
second time with an acquaintance. This time I was in Portland headed to a
club called The Embers that I had visited in street clothes when I was in
Portland the month before. There was a bar and dance floor in back and a
second bar and drag review on a separate stage at the front of the business.
I had never visited a club in drag alone before. Like earlier in the
evening, I was thrilled and terrified at the prospect of doing something so
foreign. From my previous visit, I knew there would be beautiful
transvestites there, both on stage and in the audience. I wasn't dumpy, but
I doubted I wasn't in the same league with them. There were lots of
attractive dressers there with poise and chutzpa. I had little of either.
Despite that, I hoped I would be propositioned, which had already happened
to me once in a gentlemanly way in Seattle. I doubted it would be so
gentlemanly tonight. And given my behavior already that evening, I new I may
not be so ladylike myself. As I stood in the mirror I admitted to myself
that my real intention of going was to be picked up. It excited me to
realize that and it made me nervous. I welcomed and feared it both.

I was wearing a black shoulder length wig, black satin corset, bikini
panties and stockings. Over it I wore a purple suede miniskirt and crushed
velvet pull over in pewter with three-quarter length sleeves. It had a hint
of Lycra in it that made the velvet hug my body and fit nicely into the
waistband of the skirt. It had a wide boat-neck collar that drew attention
away from my shoulders to my neck and face that were made up in muted plum
tones. I grabbed a long coat and a purse and left.

Each room of the hotel opened to the outside and it was refreshing to step
out into the cold. A man and woman were climbing the stairs toward me on the
second floor and I confidently walked past them and down the stairs. The
drive was uneventful and I parked in a lot across the street from the bar.
It's only when I saw the line into the door that I realized there was a
cover charge. When I had visited the prior month, it had been earlier in the
evening. It was now 10 p.m. and they were charging admission. I couldn't
slip in unnoticed. But I was determined and waited until the line dwindled
to about 10 people and made a beeline from the lot to the door. The couple
in line ahead of me didn't even turn to look at me. The door clerk and a
bouncer lounging nearby couldn't have cared less.

The bar with the show stage was packed. There was some space around video
game terminals and the few tables at the back of the room, but the rest was
filed with an array of people in glamour, gothic, biker and ordinary attire.
The room contained twice as many people as I had seen on my earlier visit
and there were at least two groups of lesbians. On stage a TV lip-synched
"What's Love Got to Do With It" by Tina Tuner. She was a white TG, so
comparisons to Tina were vague, but she had the skin-tight dress, stockings
and strut down to a "T" and the crowd loved it. After a couple verses sung
amid the tables, her bosom overflowed with dollar bills tucked into her bra
by admirers. I took in the whole act standing at the back being jostled by
passersby headed to and from the dance floor. After she finished I worked my
way to the bar and ordered a drink, then spotted an empty stool about half
way down the bar and made my way to it, took off my coat, folded it and
placed it on the stool and sat down. I lit a cigarette, tipped the bartender
heavily and tried to strike up a conversation with him but he was way too
busy.

I was alternately rattled and comforted by the commotion. The acts were
great. The emcee was a gorgeous TG in a cream colored sequined gown with a
neckline that plunged nearly to her navel and a hemline that was slit nearly
to her crotch. Add to that 4-inch heels and surprisingly thin legs for a TG
and she was intoxicating to watch. I dreaded what would happen when a heavy
set cross dresser took the stage, but ended up laughing nearly to tears when
she produced a teddy bear with a strap-on dildo and squatted over it on
stage while singing a rock version of some nursery rhyme about bears. The
audience began throwing condoms. I was entertained, but alone. It was so
loud talking even with those on the next stool was almost impossible. The
guy on my left was with one of the performers, who he introduced me too. She
was performing LuLu that evening, complete with a blond shag wig and
skin-tight turtleneck knit dress in black. The guy on the other side was
with a woman, who told me I looked nice and asked what lipstick I was
wearing. I drank too much.

So I was more than a little surprised when during an act I felt a hand on my
arm and turned to find myself eye-to-eye with a man about my age. His name
was Don and he wanted to buy me a drink. He wore a flannel shirt unbuttoned
over a white T-shirt and jeans. He was clean shaven and about my age and I
said yes. I shouted my introduction into his ear and the conversation went
that way until our drinks came and he led me to a table in back and we
learned we were both college students and both there for the first time, or
so we said.  He told me I looked nice. As we finished our second drink he
asked me to his apartment.

I knew I would say yes, but fascination and fear swept over me. His
invitation came suddenly, or so it seemed. By then we had moved our chairs
closer and his arm had slid around my waist on a couple of occasions as he
leaned in to hear me during an especially loud song. His fingers had
explored the pattern of corset laces beneath my blouse. His knee had grazed
my nylon-covered legs many times and gently pried them apart once. I had let
him do that. I said I would go to his apartment if he would bring me back to
my car later and he said yes. We kissed in the car and he fondled me until I
became hard in my panties. He asked me if I had condoms and I told him that
I did.

His apartment turned out to be a second floor walkup on the edge of an
industrial area near downtown. On the way up we paused on a landing for
kisses. Once inside, he poured more drinks and I excused myself to the
bathroom. When I returned he was already on the couch and he raised his
glass as I walked into the room. I took my glass and sipped as he did. We
kissed the moment I sat down.

There's something comforting in knowing exactly what you want and in that
sense Don and I were a comfortable couple. He had kept his hands on the
wheel on the drive over, but no longer. He had my skirt up over my stocking
tops during the first long kiss. His hand was warm on my thigh and nimbly
flicked into my panties and took my cock. Somewhere among the alcohol and my
own racing pulse I remember he had said earlier that evening that it was his
first visit to The Embers. It was a lie. He knew exactly what he was doing
with a cross dresser. He stroked me hard and gently pushed me onto my back
as his lips fell around my cock. After the selfish couple earlier that
evening, I was eager for the attention. He had me in his throat quickly and
I ran my fingers through his hair as he moved his lips over my cock. Then he
pulled back and lifted me up on the couch for a kiss and told me it was my
turn.

I knew of course what he meant. My hand was traveling up his jeans to his
crotch even before our lips met. The bulge was noteworthy and like he had
done to me I kissed him as I undid his clothing and gently pushed him onto
his back. His cock was a slender 7 inches and like his chin, clean shaven.
It was my first experience with a shaven man and it felt wonderfully sexy.
The evening, the alcohol and the vaguely illicit way we had met combined to
make the silky phallus gliding through my lips that much more erotic. This
was a bad boy and he made me want to be a bad girl. After several passes I
lifted my lips off his cock and looked at him as I dribbled saliva between
my lips onto his cock. I dropped my mouth over the cock and gathered up all
the liquid and repeated the process again. Then again. He smiled and asked
me if I liked sucking cock and I said I did.

I pulled back and took off his shoes and socks and tugged his pants down
from the cuff. The short tugs aggravated Don, who wanted his pants off in a
rush, but I told him to be patient. He swore at me and smiled. I lifted my
blouse over my head and tossed it onto the couch. With the first view of my
corset he sat up and pulled me into his arms for a kiss. He undid the button
and zipper of my skirt and slid it over my hips. His hands felt the corset
laces and my taunt waist. He asked if I wore corsets often. I told him every
chance I get, "because it makes me feel sexy." He told me it was sexy and
leaned back again on the couch and I crawled out of my skirt and closer
between his legs and held his eyes with mine as I took his phallus back in
my mouth.

Again I slathered his cock with saliva and let it flow back between my lips
over him. I lifted the cock and licked the scrotum. It was shaven and
entirely hairless.  The texture was smooth between my lips. I took each ball
in my mouth circling it with my tongue slowly, then faster, then slower. I'm
not sure how long it went on before I distinctly heard a squeak and jerked
my head up to see another man leaning on a chair just inside the doorway to
the living room. Don rolled his head to the side and I recall him saying
clearly: "Hey Rob, this is Stevie."

I'll admit I was naïve about the gay scene and what it meant being a cross
dresser at a gay bar. Sitting on a bar stool in a miniskirt made it apparent
I was out for adventure but that didn't mean I was public property, or at
least I didn't think it did. It appeared Don and his friend thought
otherwise. Rob was taller than Don, a little scruffier and his hair was
longer. He sat down casually in the upholstered chair he had been leaning on
and complimented me on my appearance like we were familiar acquaintances.
Then he slid his hand over his crotch and added: "I heard the part about you
liking to suck cock and I just had to see what was going on."

Who could deny it? On my knees in a corset with Don's cock in my hand I knew
you could also say a lot of other things about me that I would have a hard
time denying. I was also more than a little angry. Everything about Rob's
behavior indicated he didn't just want to see what was going on, he expected
the same. After traveling across his crotch a couple of times his hand
cupped his manhood and he looked me right in the eye.

"So do you guys take turns?" I asked with obvious anger. To my surprise,
they admitted that yes they did. Sometimes they went to the bars together,
but not that night. Don said Rob was working late and Don had no idea Rob
would come home so early. But what if he had, I was giving such a wonderful
blow job why not just go on with it and let Rob watch or not. It was up to
me, said Don. "Tell him to leave if you want Stevie."

My head was swimming again. Don's tone was so casual and confident he was
certain he would get what he wanted regardless. I was probably being lied
to, maybe I was being tricked, but the outcome wasn't a bad one. I left the
motel looking for a stud and now I had two. Earlier in the evening I made a
show out of sucking a man's cock for his wife. Was there any difference?
Rob's eyes were still locked on me and I turned back to Don and slowly
lowered my lips to take in just the head of his cock and nursed it. I
lowered by lips just past the head and then back to the tip and nursed it
some more. Don smiled and laid his head back on the couch and let out a slow
"jeeeeezzzzzzzz."

Like it had had earlier in the evening I wanted my show to have a powerful
effect on my viewer and I was going to use it. "Just sit and watch Rob," I
said with a glance toward Rob. Then I rolled my tongue around the head of
Don's cock and gradually gathered a mouthful of saliva that I pulled back
and let flow onto his phallus. It danced beneath my lips as the warm liquid
flowed from my lips. I decided to take my time lowering my mouth slowly and
tonguing the bottom as I took the entire length into my mouth. Then, slowly,
I moved my lips up and down his shaft. I pressed my tongue against the
underside of his cock as I moved my head slowly up and down. I drew the
nails of both hands lightly across his balls. Don was now quietly talking to
me about how good it felt and that my mouth was so soft and deep. His
commentary was the perfect compliment to my movements, or so it seemed,
because the few glimpses I got of Rob were of a man in heat.

Keeping up the attention to his balls, I moved my lips out so only his glans
was between my lips and I began to twirl my tongue around it. First quickly,
then slower, adding suction now and then to great effect. Don was squirming
and put his hands to my head and I quickly pulled back and pushed them
gently aside. I lowered my lips to his testicles again and took one then the
other into my mouth performing the same routine I had on his glans, twirling
and sucking, fast then slow.

"Damn girl," I heard and looked across the room to Rob who had his cock out
of his pants by then. It was then that I decided to do my best to drive him
mad. I took Don's cock back into my mouth and began to gently massage his
balls with my right hand as I slowly moved my lips up and own his cock. I
would stop for a second at the bottom and swallow, massaging his glans with
my throat muscles. Then I would pull out to the tip and twirl my tongue and
suck. With each pass his cock head went to the back of my mouth and into the
top of my throat and the effect was making Don squirm beneath me.

I took a fingerful of saliva from my lips and slid it under Don's balls and
began slowly massaging his prostate. I was now moving my head slightly
faster. Don's frustration was building I could tell because he tried to buck
into my lips, but I moved with him to diminish its effect. His hands moved
to my head but I brushed them aside and pulled off him briefly. "Let me," I
whispered. Across the room Rob called out. "Oh jezzz baby let him have it."

Who I intended to let have it was Rob, the sneak, so I kept my pace
deliberately slow. My mouth moved down, paused, moved up, paused. Down, up,
down, up. Then Don tensed beneath me and I knew he was getting closer and
slowly I slid my finger further onto his prostate and then to the edge of
his ass and then across his ass hole as my lips fell harder onto his cock.
The effect was electric and immediate. Don was moaning loudly and non-stop
now as my finger moved quickly back and forth. I felt his cock jerk in my
mouth and the splash of cum hit my throat. I pulled my lips back to the edge
of the glans and moaned myself as the cum flowed across my tongue.

Don sighed heavily and I let him move his hands to my head. He gently wove
his fingers through my hair as I used both of my hands to milk the last
drops of his cum onto my tongue in plain view for Rob. From the commotion
across the room I knew my performance was having the desired effect. I
leaned back on my heels and ran my nails down Don's legs as I did so. He
smiled and we ignored the squeaking in the chair across the room. Rob was
obviously jacking off, but who wanted to see that. I smiled back at Don and
without looking away from Don's eyes I said: "You can come over now Rob."

He was there in a flash standing to my left his cock rock hard and purple
from the chaffing he had given it. He smelled of printing ink or some such
odor but his hands were clean and his rock hard six inches were frankly
appealing. I could tell it wouldn't take long. He reached for my shoulder
and I slapped his hand away and Don laughed.

"You don't get it yet Rob. She's the one doing us," Don said laughing. I
held Don's eyes with mine now and slowly took the new cock between my lips.
It throbbed at my tender pressure and I decided to make this show for Don. I
twisted my body slightly so I could watch Don as I took Rob's cock deeper
and slowly began repeating the show. Unfortunately for Don, it was a short
show. In a few strokes Rob quaked and his cum flowed into my mouth.

It was about 1 a.m. by the time Don took me back to my car parked downtown.
He said he and some other friends were having a Super Bowl party that
afternoon, would I like to join them. I asked Don if they would be friends
like Rob and without hesitation Don said. "Yes." Even after the drinking,
the long night and the adventuresome sex I was thinking clearly enough to
understand immediately that I was being lined up again. Though he had never
said so, Don thought that a cross dresser in a miniskirt on a barstool was a
whore and I had not disappointed him. I had not disappointed myself either.
"Sure," I replied. I asked him to pick me up at my motel and we kissed as he
let me out at my car.