Tony is reserved, calm and unflappable. Every Friday night he goes to Lads’ Night, his main social outlet, drinks beers and plays games. He doesn’t even particularly like games, or the challenges or bets that go along with them, despite being very good at them. But something will happen to Tony this Friday night. Something that will change him and reveal a part of him he didn’t even know existed.

In a perfect storm of coincidences, friends, and new friends, with depths he didn’t even begin to understand, Tony could be starting a journey to a very new life. The question is what will it take for Tony to realise the Toni in him isn’t just a strange indulgence for a single night? And what will the people around him do to push him towards accepting this?

The first part of a new and ongoing serial.

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I really don’t know why I agreed to the rules. I guess because it’s Friday night, it’s the lads’ night in, I’ve had a few beers, and I suppose I trusted in my poker skills. I’ve never lost before.

Alan I’ve known since university and it’s Steve’s apartment, a friend I’ve known since school. Big-G and Sam are two of Steve’s co-workers, and just as crazy as Steve. All four of Steve, Alan, Sam and Big-G are always coming up with bets, and deals, weird rules and drinking games. I’m good at games which is why it’s never bothered me but I’ve never felt a real buzz playing a game.

Tonight it’s simple, every thousand chips below starting stacks you lose to another player you lose an item of clothing. No rebuys, no buying back clothes. You go broke, mandatory nudity. Every item of clothing you lose goes into the bath tub and the dryer goes on no earlier than 3am.

What I don’t trust and should really have thought of was my penis. It’s tiny. Now I’m on a losing streak, down to my underwear, with the rest of my clothes dumped into the tub filled with ice-water. But I’ve got Ace-King in my hand, with Ace-King-7 rainbow on the board, and I’m going all in. I don’t have much choice left. I’ll win just about enough chips to survive the blinds going up and fold everything for the rest of the game. They’ll get bored before the end and come up with something new, and either way I have another ace to play.

“Confident man,” Alan says. He’s not in the hand, of course he can talk.

I look towards Steve, “All in, or not? Don’t keep me waiting.” I just want it over with.

“Don’t rush me, this is a big hand!” Steve says.

“Now, now, Tony,” Alan says, “Steve is desperately afraid of ruining his ever-so-colourful tie in the tub.” Steve is more or less fully dressed. He’s been on the run of his life and easily has my all-in covered, while Alan is in one sock, his jeans, and whatever he has on under there. Probably nothing.

Alan’s two co-workers are standing behind him, already buck naked. I don’t know them very well, but well enough, and they laugh at the tie comment.

When Big-G laughs his whole body moves. His whole body! It’s obvious why they call him Big-G despite only being an average five foot nine man. My dick would barely count next to his. Next to anyone’s, I suppose, but especially his.

Alan lifts his cards an inch and shows them to his nude co-workers. “Should I call?”

“Big-G says no way, José.”

“You’ll be losing that tie,” Sam says. “And it’s such a pretty pattern.”

Steve looks up at both of them,“This is why you’re both naked,” he says. “Of course I’m going to call.” And he pushes his chips in the middle.

“Two-pair, Ace-King,” I say.

“Just a pair of fours for me,” Steve says.

Now’s my chance. “Look,” I say. “The game has been going on for ages, two people are already naked, I’m in my underwear. There must be some sport on the TV, from somewhere, you can bet over. How about we end the game here?”

“I agree with that,” Alan says. His foot must be getting cold on the kitchen tile.

“Fine by us,” Big-G says. “Big-G and Sam are already rocking with their tackle out.” He laughs a hearty laugh, his cock bouncing up and down as his chest rises and falls, then he takes a swig of beer.

“Agreed, then,” I say, and go to stand.

“Game’s not over though,” Steve says.

“Fine, yeah, yeah. Of course. Flip the cards,” I say, realising I hadn’t expected this hand to actually play and I was banking on it finishing up as soon as I made my suggestion. But of course it should be run, I got blinded by keeping my underwear on. There’s still outs for Steve, and two pair isn’t exactly a locked in hand, although it was my only chance. He can still win and all he needs is a four.

Alan flips the first of two cards, a nine, no good for anyone. I’m still safe. I take a deep breath. Then another. Then another. I feel sweat on my brow.

“Nervous, Tony?” Steve asks.

“Alan, deal, please,” I say, indicating at the cards. I just want to keep my underwear on.

He lifts one card up, holding it in front of his face, before showing it around to everyone but me. All their lips are pursed. “Come on, it’s a two or something, get over it. Stop trying to psych me out.”

Alan shakes his head and throws the card on the table. It’s a four. “And tonight, for the first time in lads’ night history, the games man who doesn’t even really enjoy games has lost,” Alan says in a faux announcer voice.

My heart pounds. They’ll all see me. The entire me. The full me. The little me. I’ll never be able to live it down. They’ll know and never forget. “No!”

“Oh yes!” Big-G shouts. “Three naked stags! The girls’ panties will be flying off!”

“What girls?” I ask, feeling like I could throw up.

“Some of the women from Big G’s office,” Big-G says.

“What!?” I yelp.

“Why do you think Big-G played strip poker with no women around?” Big-G says.

“Big-G wanted his big schlong to be on display when they get here,” Alan says.

“We can’t be naked when they arrive!” I cry.

“They said they’re fine with it, as long as Big-G is naked too,” Sam says. “And if it’s fine by them it’s more than fine by me.”

“The ladies know exactly why Big-G is called Big-G,” Big-G says.

“And soon they’ll be calling Tony Little-T,” Steve says. I glare at Steve. He probably has seen me naked. I couldn’t hide everything in school so Steve probably isn’t making a stab in the dark with that comment. “Double or quits?” Steve continues.

“What do you mean?”

“An out.”

“An out?”

“A chance to be fully clothed. No matter what.”

“What’s the twist?”

“No twist, fully clothed. It just depends on what clothes.”

“I’m not putting on some crusty gimp suit of yours,” I say. And he probably does have one. He’s actually seriously successful with women.

“Oh, it won’t be my clothes. These are all brand new. In their packaging. It’s not even embarrassing, really. Loads of people wear clothes like this all the time.”

“What’s the fucking twist, Steve? Crotchless something or the other?”

“Coin flip. You win, you get to put on some of my old sweats. Yes, my clothes. Tatty but fine. Remember you still lost at poker, and come 3am the dryer goes on. A little after 5am you’re getting a taxi home, drunk, in your own dry clothes and happy about how you got one up on all of us again. You the confirmed games master.”

“I lose?”

“You lose you wear what a normal, hot 27 year old would be wearing on a night out clubbing.”

“Deal.”

“Just like that?” Steve asks. “You don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?” He thinks he’s playing some trick on me, but I have no clue what he could mean.

“You lose you wear what a hot, 27 year old woman would be wearing clubbing. A stone cold stunner. The kind who’d never go home with you. And you have to be wearing it when the girls from work arrive later.”

This is why Steve is crap at games, and definitely why he got lucky against me in poker. He thinks he has it all figured out, in the mind games, like he can read people. “Yeah, I got that. Obviously. You’re on.”

“What? Like, I mean, dude, this is the full get up. I told you I’ve been planning this. Big, high fuck me boots, a tight, shimmering dress, bra, lacy thong, pantihose, I got nail polish, cheapo breast thingies, even a cheap wig.”

“Dude, they’re just clothes. And did you really go into a shop and buy all this?”

“I ordered online,” Steve says in a gruff voice.

But there’s no need to push it. Let him have his fun and think he won. “Sure, fine,” I say.

“Why are you so cool with this and not being naked?” Steve asks, very pointedly.

“That’s different,” I say.

“I know,” he says and he stares me coldly in the eyes reminding me even if I’m not bothered about the clothes this is him knowing about my tiny peepee. And yes, it really does count as a peepee, barely even a dick, let alone a cock.

“OK. Alan flips the coin?” I’m really not bothered about this, in fact I started feeling much better about myself as soon as he brought any clothes up. I guess it’s relief from knowing I won’t have to get my dick out, and be shamed. For everyone to know.

Alan takes a coin from Steve’s coin jar and holds it out in front of me, flipping it over and again. “Heads you’re a woman dressed to give head. Tails you’re a hot, young, hotty piece of tail every boy is chasing.”

“Agreed,” I say.

Alan launches it into the air and the coin comes down... And I realise what I agreed to. Everyone, including the naked Sam and Big-G bursts out laughing.

“The oldest play in the book!” Steve roars. Strangely though, as the coin was thrown, before I realised what I’d agreed to I was hoping the smelly Steve’s old sweatpants result didn’t come up. I push that thought aside though and finally let their mocking get to me.

“Fine, OK, OK! You got me!”

“Not so Mister, or should I say Miss Unfazed now, are we?”

“Yeah, that was good. I was bamboozled.”

“Glass of white wine for the lady?” Alan asks.

“But you drink white wine, too,” I say.

“I’m bi,” Alan says.

“I knew it!” Sam says. Alan spins around to look at him. “Did I say that out loud? I meant to say how you doin’?”

“Oh!” Alan smiles. “I’m doing OK. Could be better. Could be much better!” He winks at Sam.

Sam’s out in the air cock bobs and I don’t know why but my eye is drawn to it. It must be the weirdness of seeing my friend openly flirting with a guy whose dick is visibly twitching while we’re all standing in another friend’s kitchen.

“This is getting weird,” I say.

“About to get weirder, for you at least. Go on, into my bedroom. The delivery box is beneath the bed.”

“You want me to go beneath your bed?” I say.

“I have no secrets,” Steve says.

I shake my head. My fate awaits and there’s no putting it off. But the Miss Unfazed thing is mostly true, I really don’t care.

“Don’t forget your glass of wine, love!” Alan says, holding a glass out to me.

I take it, and then grab the entire bottle. “I’ll be needing this,” I say. But really I just want to finally feel safe again now I know I won’t be naked.

I walk to Steve’s bedroom which I’ve been in plenty of times before. Sometimes he’ll buzz people in, leave the front door unlocked and go back to bed while everyone chats to him like he’s a lord. This is so common he even has a couch setup in there. He’s just too at ease with himself.

His apartment is a modern place, but cheap, maybe an old design apartment but recently built. It’s actually quite a find, separate living room and kitchen, and not all open plan. The bedroom is quite big, has an en suite, and there’s a general bathroom off a hallway with full tub. The place is kind of run down from cheap materials but Steve has done it up with some pretty decent interior decorating. The living room can go from sports viewing central with the big TV to a chill out room with a comfy couch, beanbags, lamps and little lights in seconds. He says it helps with his score rate.

I don’t know why but I’m looking around Steve’s bedroom in an entirely different way. Usually when he’d be lying in bed the full lights would be on and the radio would be tuned into some sports news station while I avert my eyes and he scratches his balls and farts, but now the lighting is low and there’s even a few scented candles burning. It feels cosy.

My eyes fall on the package I’ve dug out and placed on the centre of the bed. It’s time to get it over with and it really isn’t bothering me. It’s just drag. Just drag and not my unimpressive piece on show for the world. I’ll simply look ridiculous instead of being thought of as less of a man, or not a man at all, with my size. A fine deal for me.

I pull out the first item and it’s the dress. Tight and shimmering was right, but there’s more that Steve didn’t say. It’s a thick material, an expensive material, the kind you’d see hugging a body moving through a movie scene. It’s not the disco dress I imagined, more a lush beaded dress, with glimmering black, what I assume are plastic, faux stones in a geometric pattern. The femme fatale wears it where you just can’t take your eyes off her. A superstar from the era when films were films, and women were women. You’d see every flex and movement of her body catching on the light and every man’s eyes would be hanging out of his head, craning their necks, following her around the room. A dress worn by the kind of ladies who have legs that go all the way.

Next out is a black bra, lace and satin, and a black thong, also lace and satin. At least he colour matched. Deeper inside the box is a package of black pantihose, which I unwrap and for some reason rub across my arm. These might actually feel good. They’re kind of thick enough that I guess Steve was thinking of covering my leg hair, not that I’ve much of it, or facial hair, or any body hair really apart from my pits and groin. There’s two other boxes at the bottom of the package. That must be the shoes and the breast forms, or the breast thingies as Steve called them. There’s also a little black purse with a gold chain strap. I lift it up and hang it over my shoulder. Why did Steve think I need a purse? Looking into it it is, of course, his idea of a joke. Inside is the nail polish, some condoms and, without fail, some tampons. What a hilarious man!

I fold the top of the purse closed and look into Steve’s full length mirror. My boxer briefs are all wrong with the purse and I quickly strip them off.

Looking at my reflection my dick is basically inside me although my balls are dangling, but if I turn a little I can just see my ass and the purse hanging over my shoulder, the leather of the bag I press against my butt cheek. I stand on my tippy-toes to give my behind some shape while I hold the leather of the purse. I look ugly as fuck. Maybe the thong will build up some illusion.

I take the black lace and satin thong, with some tiny fake stones on the front panel off the bed and snap off the tags. I pull it up my legs, with my butt to the mirror to not see my shameful dick and balls while I still have the purse hanging over my shoulder. As the lace front sits in place I feel a stirring in the tip of my miniscule dick as the pattern rubs over it. It begins to show a little. I am definitely getting turned on.

I take a deep slug of the white wine and throw the bag onto the bed. This is not going as I was expecting. What the fuck is going on with me? Am I really this drunk?

I take another gulp of the wine then fill up the glass.

As I’m thinking on what to turn to next I hear the front door open and at least two female voices being greeted. I wonder what they’re wearing? I mean, if they’re in jeans and a top I’m going to look a total fool in a clubbing dress. A real sore thumb, is what I’m thinking, I tell myself as I look in the mirror again and see a flat chest.

I quickly shrug on the bra, reach back to clip it closed and push in the breast forms. I look acceptable in the mirror. Like me, obviously, but I guess I could get my hair done.

The pantihose are next, I roll one leg up in my hand as I sit on the bed. I point my toes, and slide the leg over my foot, pulling it up a little way. The other leg is next. I don’t have time to paint my nails, not that anyone would see them through the pantihose, but I imagine, y’know, it’d be right to have toes painted, if my pantihose were to come off. And I was right, these hose do feel good. Like they give my legs shape, or make them feel like they’re toned or something. They definitely hide any blemishes and they even flatten my balls, I notice, as I pull and twist them up my waist.

The wig is in the box with the breast forms. It’s a black bob, very formal, very angular, almost too dark. Not really natural and I’m disappointed with that. I don’t want to look, like, so fully severe, like a character.

I turn back to my glass of wine and take a sip feeling the cool liquid travel down my throat. A heat spreads across my chest from the alcohol content and I swear I can even feel my nipples inflame. I resist the urge to reach up and squeeze them.

I figure the dress will come last, or at least the wig, the dress and wig at the same time to complete the look. I won’t look in the mirror before I have them both on so it’s boots time now. Except the box is much too small for fuck me boots.

I open it up and inside are a pair of delicate black heels, instep with a cutaway that will expose the arch of my pantihosed feet. I could imagine someone rubbing me there, just a finger gently stroking, holding my foot beneath a dinner table while I play with their hard, mmmm... My dick is growing to its impressive three inches and I look back at the heels to take my mind off someone stroking my feet, nibbling my painted toes... Oh boy!

Four inches of a stiletto on them. Real leather, my god how much did he pay?! These are exquisite and what the fuck am I thinking?

I shake my head but as I do so I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. With the heels on my butt is perking right out. I pull the thong up higher so it’s exposed above the pantihose and digging into me a little. My balls and dick are clamped down even more which just makes my cock strain all the stronger, the little, tiny lump of useless flesh.

I quickly grab the wig from the bed and put it on, before taking the dress and holding it in front of me. It’s lined with something on the inside, smooth to the touch like silk, but obviously fake silk. More satin? There’s no way Steve paid for such an expensive dress. Why did he pay for such an expensive dress?

The beads on the black material catch on the candle light as I’m rubbing between my thighs, imagining a hand there, exploring. Feeling me against the heat of my crotch and gently probing.

I pull down the zip and step into the dress. Lifting it up against my body it glides against my legs and pulls my boobs higher up. I’ve never felt so delicate, so ready.

I rub the soft material against my belly before I slip my arms through the arm-holes. I’m about to call out for Steve to help me with the zip before I catch myself. He’s not my boyfriend. I don’t even want a boyfriend. I’m not gay, I just have a small dick I don’t want to use with women because they’ll laugh. And that’s how Steve has me looking like this, I think, as I stare at myself in the mirror, fully dressed, for the first time.

I do a double take as I catch my reflection. It’s me, definitely, but if I squint my eyes a little and blur my vision, ignoring my face, there’s a gorgeous looking woman there in the hottest of hot date dresses. No. Not hot date, classy date. Drinking Martinis at a fancy cocktail bar with a piano player, someone holding my hand. Whispering in my ear while I act all coquettishly. Does Steve want to see me like this? He had this planned, he said so. Maybe he wants me to...

And as I think that my cock stirs again and I know what I have to do. I really have to.

I look around for tissues all the while thinking of Steve needing to see me like this. My dick tears at my panties and with every movement or twitch it’s rubbing on the fabric of the hose through the satin and lace and makes me glow deep inside. My mound roars with fire, but there’s no tissues to be found. What kind of man doesn’t have tissues in his bedroom? I’ll have to have words. What if he needs to blow his nose? Where does he put his snot!? It’s disgusting!

I remember the condoms in my purse. I take one out and tear at the corner of it with my teeth, like I’ve seen in films, while I massage myself through my dress. I lift the hem up, pull down the pantihose and front of the thong a little, and slide the condom just the few inches down my tiny, erect penis. It goes on easily.

I grab my dick and start stroking, but it feels wrong. I lie back on Steve’s bed and lift my legs high in the air, legs spread wide seeing my heels reaching for the ceiling like some horny little bitch ready to be pounded. I imagine someone coming at me, between my legs which I wrap around them and pull them close. They’re right against me. Their genitals are right against me and I feel their flesh against mine. I feel them on top of me. Going at me. Entering me...

And just as that thought enters my mind I explode in the condom. I barely lasted any time, not that I ever do. And it was all wrong. All wrong!

What was I doing? What am I doing? It’s wrong!

Then I see my legs and heels still in the air and it somehow secures me. It’s just a bet, and it was just a fantasy and, hell, I don’t get anywhere near women so I was probably imagining me doing it to a woman. I was dressed like a woman so I just imagined me fucking some woman. That’s all. Next time I’ll be finer with the tip of my dick though. Really play with it. Give myself time.

I pull the condom off my now nearly disappeared cock, twist it up, and put it in the purse with no other obvious place to stash it.

I look in the mirror and it’s very much male me there again. Very male me. I want to strip off the dress and even put on my ice cold, wet clothes from the tub but that wouldn’t be the bet. It’s just a simple bet. Nothing else. I can do this. Just another weird night at fucking Steve’s with his weird stakes and games.

I shrug my dress up my back and reach around to pull it up, getting at the zip. I drag it up as it fastens and close it, before pulling the garment down, secure again. Steve didn’t even get me some ass baring dress, this is really nice...

I make sure everything is snug and my silhouette is OK, patting myself down to make sure of no unsightly lumps and bumps, or snags, as I tune into the voices coming from the living room via the hallway. It seems like there’s a right party going on, and it’s ready to greet me, Tony, or now Toni with an i, I guess.

I guess? I’m still Tony. This is just a night at Steve’s. And I’m definitely Tony. I might as well be Hot Toni. It is just one night. And I figure the way to win this, psychologically, is to just be confident. Act like nothing is any different. Not that I’m a normal woman, I’m not a woman, but just that I’m a normal Toni.

That’s always the way with the bets and games Steve has when we all get together, just the lads. And it’s why I always win. He thinks I’m unflappable but I just don’t let things bother me. What’s the worst that could happen? I’ve already avoided the worst. I’m not having to show my tiny cock to all the guys here, or the women he knows from work he suddenly decided to invite to lads’ night. Anyway, come 5am or so I get my clothes back and no-one will have the image of my barely-there penis burned into their minds for them to forever insult.

I smooth down my dress one last time and go to reach for the door handle. Then I remember the white wine and grab the glass and bottle and stand behind the door again. This is it.

I step into the hallway, feeling the cool air against my legs and bare arms, a little wobbly with my first real steps in heels, and open the door into the living room.

I walk in, trying to hold my head high but I see Big-G sitting stark naked in an armchair, legs spread wide, massive dong hanging loose. Steve, still wearing his work tie like a prize is on a kitchen chair just inside the door next to a gorgeous blonde woman on another kitchen chair, who’s in a retro sweater dress with black heeled boots and taupe pantihose, legs crossed. Sam, also with his dick out from strip poker is flirting with my close friend Alan. And a black haired women dressed like the most fashionista punk, fashionista purely because of her flawless makeup, is reclining in one of Steve’s giant beanbags. They all turn to me.

I freeze.

“Fucking hell, Steve, you ordered that dress!?” the black haired woman says.

“Wait, what?” Steve says.

“It’s fucking gorgeous!” she continues. “Give me a twirl, hun!”

Without thinking I put one foot behind the other, and give a little spin, ending up facing back to this raven lying on a beanbag with giant glass of red wine.

“Jesus Christ, Steve, you having fucking taste. I’d murder to find a dress like that. And somewhere to wear it to!”

“That’s not the dress I ordered,” Steve says.

“When you’re done with it I’ll gladly take it off your hands,” the blonde woman says.

The black haired woman levers herself out of the beanbag and approaches me. As she gets closer I’m sure I’m like a fawn stuck in the beams of a car but she holds both her hands up and I instinctively reach up my own to place mine in her grip. She gives me the up and down and I see she’s wearing the standard punk, red tartan skirt, torn fishnets, big stompy boots with a massive chunky heel, and a band t-shirt for some band I’ve never heard of.

“Fucking hell it’s gorgeous... So don’t listen to a word that bitch Sally says! There’s no way a woman would give up a dress like that. Look at her!” she says as she squeezes to the side of me, releasing one hand and moving me forward to the middle of the floor, past Steve and Sally, right in front of the couch so everyone can get a good look. I bend one knee just a fraction and bring my legs together as they all look at me.

“My God! Jess! Did you see the heels?” Sally, the blonde woman says.

“Fuck off!” Jess, the black haired woman says. Her eyes seem wider than what I imagine mine to be. “What size shoe are you?”

“I’m size...” I stammer out.

“Those fucking scam artists!” Steve shouts.

“Who?” Sally asks.

“I ordered fuck me boots and a little black thing that barely covers his ass from that store!”

“Her!” Jess and Sally both say, without pause.

“Sorry, her. Sorry, Toni,” Steve says. “Yeah, a slutty, horny outfit. And they ripped me off sending me this.”

“Men!” Sally says.

“Fucking men!” Jess says.

I want to say Men! too but the word catches in my throat and comes out in a whisper. I’m not confident enough, or just a little taken aback, I guess, to be able to pull off a riff like that.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jess says. “I’m Jess, and this is Sally, we work with Steve, and Sam and Big-G!”

Big-G barks, “Big-G!” back at them, obviously getting drunker.

“You know it, babe!” Jess says, giving a thumbs up to Big-G. “You must be Toni,” she continues, turning back to me.

“Yeah, hi,” I say, desperate to take a drink but afraid I’ll dribble the wine down my boobs, so instead I wave at them both.

“Well, with the store fucking up the order, instead of Mr. Modernity here making you look like a whore you’re the classiest looking broad in the building tonight,” Sally says.

“If I didn’t already like her vibes I’d be giving her the stink eye,” Jess says. “Come on, sit down with me. I want to hear everything!”

“Hear what?” I say.

“Your story,” Jess says. “Where you went to school, where you work, any brothers or sisters, past boyfriends, past boyfriends we have to murder, past girlfriends, hopes, dreams, you know? Your story,” Jess says as she supports me wobbling over to the beanbag. She takes the bottle and glass off me and I slump down, before she lowers herself, cat-like, next to me. This is the closest I’ve been to a woman, almost lying back, in years. “But first I want to hear what store sent a what? $300 dress and $400 shoes instead of what I’m sure was Steve’s fifty buck order? Because you better believe I’m taking a chance with those fuckups!”

“I knew the shoes were too nice,” I say.

“Yeah, you lucked out there. And do not, I repeat, do not let Sally convince you you don’t want them, or the dress, and to give them to her.”

“I couldn’t pull the look off as well as her,” Sally says as she shrugs. I feel a little stirring in my crotch again when she says her.

“We should ditch this place,” Jess says.

“With Toni?” Sally asks. “No way. Normally it’s you getting all the attention and me getting whoever’s next in line, with Toni I’d be third in line.”

“Yeah, but I’d be second, and think how good it’d make you feel to see me beaten to the dark, strong, handsome men.”

“Rich men too,” Sally says. “But that’s a fair point. Let’s go!”

“No!” I say, almost thrashing in the beanbag. “We can’t!” I see Steve is sitting in his chair looking over at me and Jess with a big smile on his face. Alan’s legs are resting on Sam’s lap as they whisper and dart glances at me with Sam massaging the sockless foot Alan has from the strip poker.

“She’s right,” Sally says. “We don’t even know if she likes boys or girls. We wouldn’t know what club to hit.”

“Toni!” Jess says declaratively. “Do you like boys or girls?”

“Boys,” I say, instinctively. Then I catch myself. “No! I mean girls.”

“Both? Either? Or? In between? I like everything.” she says as she strokes the pantihose encased inner of my thigh, a little way inside the cover of my hem.

I take a deep breath through my nose trying not to close my eyes as she caresses a part of my body no-one has ever, ever paid attention to before. “I mean, I like girls, not boys. I just said boys because I thought I should, you know, with how I’m dressed,” I say.

“Mmmhmmm,” Jess says and exchanges a look between her and Sally before lowering herself to my ear and whispering to me, “Before the night is over someone here is going to make you cum.”

As I feel her hot breath on my ear, with her hand stroking ever further up my inner thigh I’m emboldened. I raise myself up on my elbows and lean around to her before whispering in as sultry a voice I can manage, “Who says I haven’t already?”

She immediately squeezes my thigh she has a grip on, hard, making me yelp, yes, like a girl, and speaks up. “Oh my god, she’s a firebrand! I’m sorry Steve, she doesn’t need us. Just set her free and there won’t be a cock left un-sucked and a pussy left un-eaten for ten miles square.”

“What do you mean I need them, Steve?” Was this his plan all along? Get me dressed up like an idiot and parade me in front of two women who’d toy with me and gossip about me for months?

“Toni, look...” Steve begins.

“No, out with it, Steve, was this a plan to embarrass me?” I say, feeling blood rush to my face and like I’m about to turn into the sternest bitch on the planet.

“No. It’s not like that. It’s just you haven’t been with a woman in years, if ever. Sally and Jess are lovely...”

“We are really lovely,” Sally says, nodding.

“And I thought if we had some girls at lads’ night it might bring you out of your shell more.”

“So you put me in a dress!”

“No! No-one put you in a dress. Well, I mean, it was the bet. But I’ve been planning that for months. It just so happened I went on a run with one of our stakes tonight. It was pure coincidence. I never thought you’d be... Check the order date on the shipping.”

“I wouldn’t want to meet Tony with a y,” Sally says.

“No. I’m sure he’s a lovely boy, but Toni with an i? All woman!” Jess says.

“Just play along Toni,” Big-G says, one eye half shut from the booze. “You’ve got two of the hottest women in the entire company ready to jump in bed with you.”

“Sorry, Big-G. You’ve got the Big-D but Toni, well, she’s special.”

“I’m not-” I begin to say, getting annoyed at everyone treating me like some project.

“You’re not what, hun?” Sally says.

“I’m not some project,” I say, feeling tears come to my eyes.

Jess climbs on top of me and scoots over to my other side, swapping legs beneath my crotch. I can tell what she’s doing, she’s trying to hide my crying from the boys, and that makes the tears come just that bit faster.

“Toni isn’t a fucking project,” I hear from Sally, still sitting next to Steve, then some rustling, then a chorus of, “No, no! No, she isn’t.” And finally from Sam, who may also be feeling the drink along with Big-G, with his slurred words, saying, “Fuck, if I wasn’t gay I’d nearly turn straight for her.” Followed by a series of stifled laughs, which makes me laugh, and then more tears come out.

“Fucking hell, hun, it’s a good thing you’re not wearing mascara or it’d be ruined,” Jess says. She reaches for her purse, takes some tissue out and dabs at my eyes, cleaning me up. I just mouth the words thank you at her before she palms the tissue away somewhere and clambers back over to the far side of me.

“Steve,” Jess says. “Now I know it was luck that got Toni her shoes and dress, but my god what would possess you not to buy the debutante some makeup for her coming out?”

“The choices were confusing,” Steve says.

“Yeah, that makes total sense, for you,” Sally says.

Jess climbs on top of me again, again putting her leg between mine, but this time pushing her knee and thigh all the way up against my groin. It feels so good having someone’s weight on top of me, and where our legs touch is heavenly.

“Toni, you’re no-one’s project. You are the finished article. But I, personally, cannot stand that Steve, who obviously fancies you to buy you such an expensive outfit for your date night, let you get dressed without providing even the most basic of makeup. If you don’t mind I would like to show you what you could look like with a bit of slap,” Jess says and my small, little dick grows harder with her staring deep into my eyes. And she must certainly notice it as well. Maybe..? It is small. “And I’m good with a trowel,” she goes on.

“Yeah, sure,” I say. “Why not?”

“No. No why not. I want you to see how beautiful you could be.”

“I’m already beautiful,” I say, meaning it as a joke but Jess doesn’t take it that way.

“Damn right!” she says. “And don’t let a single cunt tell you you’re not.” She caresses my face after she says that, and somehow my dick gets harder again. “So may I please do your makeup?” She tilts my face up as though getting a proper look at me, so who am I to resist?

“Please do,” I say.

“I’ll be gentle,” she says, Then she kisses her index and middle finger tips and brings them down on my lips, which part ever so slightly with me wanting to suck on them deep into my mouth.

“Close your eyes,” she says. Which I do, and soon there’s a cool liquid on my skin, gently being spread across my face, then a dabbing. “We’ll have to find the right foundation for you but for now Sally’s will do.”

I just nod as I’m treated to the most gentle of touches across my chin, upper lip, cheeks, and forehead. Touches I can barely notice as Jess squirms, more or less sitting to the side on my tummy just beneath my boobs, wrapped around me, and every time her knee moves between my leg I have to resist the urge to grind on her thigh.

Still, my resistance isn’t going too well when she sits back on her legs, right on top of my dick. I breathe deeply through my nose, patiently, and don’t think of her, or anyone else with even an iota of a body, or what I’m wearing, or naked me... Basically I’m trying to mentally catalogue all the stained mugs in the kitchen cupboard at work I’m sometimes made clean. All while Jess unintentionally tortures my cock.

“Open your eyes,” Jess says.

I do.

“Now, you’re not supposed to share eye makeup with anyone, but I think it’s worth the risk on such a special occasion. Try to keep your eyes open, I know it’ll be difficult, but it’ll be a lot easier when you’re applying your own and you’re in control.”

I nod.

“That’s done,” Jess says, after a few painful minutes of me trying not to blink right on top of the mascara wand. “And now the most important part, your lipstick. And it just so happens my pale skin and your drop dead gorgeous, black, dinner date dress...” As she says dress my dick yearns to get free, straining against lace, and I’m certain Jess notices because she wriggles her butt around in my lap. “...meet with a perfect, bold, red lipstick. Pucker!” Which I do like I’ve seen in every film and TV show, and from the few girls who’ve been around me. And as she coats my lips, the thought of me with a striking red mouth stands stark in my mind. All the ways I could possibly look run through my head, and in every one of them I’m a woman. “There!” Jess leans in and gives me a quick kiss on my newly painted lips before kneeling high above me, looking down on her work.

“Honestly, you are one of the most beautiful women I have ever had the privilege to kiss!” And as she says that I can’t keep it from happening any more. My tiny dick starts to twitch with the closest I’ve been to a woman, or more a woman has been to me, and doing my makeup, and making me wriggle in my panties, and me cumming right into the lace, through my pantihose, and right onto Jess’s knee. The second time I’ve cum tonight.

“I bet you’ll love yourself,” she says, not missing a beat. “C’mon Sally, bathroom time!”

“I can’t wait!” Sally says, and they both stand.

“You too, dummy!” Jess says, reaching a hand out to me.

“What, but why?” I say, still wobbly from my orgasm, afraid to trust my legs. It’s not all that, though. I knew about the whole girls going to the bathroom together thing but I thought that was a piece of Hollywood storytelling and didn’t happen in real life once people left high school. Not that I really knew many women after high school or university.

“Come on!” Sally says, loud enough to attract everyone in the room’s attention that had obviously wandered while Jess applied my makeup.

I take Jess’s hand and she easily pulls me up and out of the beanbag chair.

Walking into the bathroom I’ve finally recovered enough, especially with the cool hallway air on me for a few seconds, to say more than a few words. “I thought this only happened in Hollywood.”

“What? The dour, bookish, shy girl puts on a bit of makeup and is revealed to be an absolute babe?” Sally asks.

“Sorry, hun, that’s not your story. You were already exceedingly pretty before the makeup,” Jess says.

“No, I mean girls going to the bathroom together.”

“Well, I really need to pee and so do you,” Jess says, looking at me. “But you must have been distracted by something in that living room because what do bathrooms always have?”

“Look in the mirror you idiot!” Sally says.

I turn and face me, or more not me, right in the mirror and immediately look away. “No!”

“Yes!”

“No!”

“Oh, baby girl, yes!”

I turn around and lean my butt against the sink, unable to process what I’ve just seen.

“Aren’t you glad you came to Lads’ Night In?” Sally asks. But I have no response.

“Yeah, now. One hundred percent,” Jess says, the question obviously intended for her, not me. “But I can’t wait to get Toni on Girls’ Night Out.”

“No,” I say again, willing myself to turn around and look at the woman in the mirror.

“Sorry, them’s the breaks,” Jess says.

“I’m...”

“Yeah, what we’ve been saying all night, you’re all woman,” Sally says.

“Do you have a thong pantiliner?” Jess asks.

“I might, why? I thought you didn’t wear thongs.”

“It’s for Toni.”

“Toni?” Sally asks.

“Let’s just say Toni is absolutely dripping wet right now.”

I’m hearing these words but it’s not until I feel the punch on my bare arm they register with me. “I can’t believe Jess has made every woman in this apartment orgasm!” Sally says, rubbing her fist.

“Wait, what? Why did you tell-” I say. Then it dawns on me the sound I’m hearing, and the sight I’m seeing is Jess sitting on the toilet peeing. I avert me eyes and look towards the ceiling.

“You’ve just cum on my knee, you can watch me pee,” Jess says.

“You haven’t cum on me, but I don’t care, we all have the same bits,” Sally says.

“No! We don’t!” I say. I don’t know if I’ve been drugged, if this is a dream, or if I’m in at thong-split induced stupor.

“Semantics. Bits are bits. Except for Jess’s. They’re magic,” Sally says before sucking on her teeth. “I still can’t believe she’s made all three of us cum.” She looks at me. “I presume you haven’t made her cum?” I shake my head. “And I haven’t either, now why is that?”

“Because you’re both straight ladies and it’s the duty of the bisexual lady to stop her friends from getting too horned up lest they fuck unworthy cock while letting them know women are the real masters.”

I have no idea what’s happening at this point, until Sally pushes me down, sitting on the toilet seat, with Jess placing her ripped fishnets in fashionable spots with a care I didn’t think possible, her ass right by my eyeline.

“C’mon, clear out those pipes. We don’t want UTIs,” Sally says.

“I can’t,” I say.

Sally tuts and gives me a stern look. “We’ve all seen a penis before,” she says.

“More of a clit, really,” Jess says.

“What!?” I squeak, and it feels like my eyes are leaping out of my head. My blood pressure certainly soars, with my face getting red, and my dick, yes, my dick, somehow getting a little bit hard again.

“Oh, please. Do you really think I care? I wouldn’t have been up in your coochie if I cared how big your nubbin is. And I’m certainly not going to talk to the idiots out there about my friend’s crotch,” she says, waving in the living room’s direction.

“It makes things easier, really,” Sally says. “Now come on, chop chop. I need to pee too.”

It’s at this point I remember I’m wearing a dress, and satin and lace, and pantihose. I pull the appropriate ones up and the appropriate ones down to pee while my two female friends, I guess they’re friends, discuss my clitoris, and how having a small dick makes something easier.

I feel a wave of relief as soon I let my bladder flow, not realising I’d been holding it in, maybe afraid to go to the bathroom? Then, as I’m sitting there in my dress and heels and bra, with my friends standing around as I clean up the stains in my panties, what a sentence, without even thinking about it I let out, “My feet are killing me.”

“Did you have a stopwatch on that one?” Jess asks. And I realise they’re both now staring at me dabbing at cum on the lining of my dress.

“No, unlike the so-called men I don’t play those games.”

“You’ll be playing strip poker before the night is out.”

“Probably,” Sally says. “And I’ll win.” There’s a smug look on her face.

“That’s what I thought, too,” I say.

“My god, babe, you won the fucking lottery tonight. You’ve met two amazing women, who you are quickly joining with as the most dangerous trio of hoes within ten blocks. Yes! We’re a trio now...” Jess says. “You’ve orgasmed...” I’m immediately grateful Jess didn’t mention the twice part around Sally or I’d never get out of this toilet. “...you’ve got all the men drooling over you...”

“What?”

“Except for gay Sam but I don’t think he was joking about maybe giving women a go with you.”

“You could do worse,” Sally says.

“And you’re about to get amazing advice about massaging your feet when you’re sitting on the toilet.”

“What?” I say again.

“Make sure to never actually put your bare feet on the ground, no matter how much you want to,” Jess says.

This is disappointing foot advice.

“It’s ew...” Sally says.

“Just classier, isn’t?”

“This is really disappointing, you’re not helping my feet at all,” I say.

Jess tuts at me.

“Never give into feet on the floor unless you’re tip-toeing around your beau’s apartment in his day old work shirt, with his stink still on it, while he’s getting ready to depart, leaving you with his credit card and fully charged laptop.”

“Stop talking shit, Sally. You’ve never tip-toed around anywhere and you’re not the demure, boyfriend’s shirt, cutesy lady you think you are. Credit card, my dick!”

I take my foot out of my shoe and give it a rub.

“Pedicure next weekend?” Sally asks.

“Yeah, definitely,” Jess says.

“Toni?”

“Sure,” I say.

“Done,” Sally says and hands me a pad. “You know how to use...” But it’s obvious. I stick the sticky part of the pad around the edge of my underwear and I’m busy re-arranging myself once I’ve pulled everything into place.

As I’m pushing and prodding myself I think this is all just play right? Part of the games of the Friday night? They don’t really expect me to go for a pedicure next weekend even if I did think my toes needed polish before I put them in my hose. We’re just treating this like a playful evening, surely?

I see Sally standing over me looking impatient so I move to the side and make sure my dress is down, before checking my boobs are correctly set, while Sally sits, and now she’s peeing. I’m seemingly well used to it all at this point. “But why do I need a pad if I’ve cleaned up from, well, my last time?” I ask.

“Oh, that doesn’t count,” Jess says, as I’m washing my hands. “I was just going with the flow, you know? That was just opportunism. I want to make you cum like a basic bitch, now. Like an itty bitty, little, baby lesbian I take good care of. And now I’m not saying it will be me, and you might not even be a lesbian, I don’t think you are, really, and you might not even have your panties on, but you will cum again tonight.”

“Is that a promise?”

“It’ll be the most amazing cum of your life.”

We move out of the way to let Sally wash and dry her hands and I fidget seeing as we’re all in a cramped, close space by the sink with no-one sitting down.

“Let me try something,” Sally says. She wraps her arms around my neck and leans in to me. Sally’s straight, but this isn’t really lesbian anything. I’m not actually a woman. Just go with it, I guess. So I close my eyes with her tongue forcing it’s way into my mouth, pushing firmly against my own tongue. I let her take control, letting her mouth play with mine, tongue stroking the tips of my parted lips and as soon as it’s begun it’s over.

“Anything?” Jess asks.

“Nope,” Sally says.

“How about you, Toni?”

“What? No!”

“Terminally straight,” Jess tuts.

I look into the mirror to check my lipstick and I hear a laugh but I don’t know why.

“We can’t help how God made us,” Sally says.

We, all three, walk back into the living room and Jess asks, “How’s the sausage fest?”

“Have a nice gossip about us?” Steve asks.

“I let Toni in on a secret about Big-G,” Sally says.

“Ooh, do tell!” Steve says.

“He’s got a pretty nicely sized penis,” Sally says.

“It’s very big, Big-G,” I say.

Big-G barks another, “Big-G!” Then he opens one eye, “And Big-G would like to thank Toni for her compliment on his Big-D, and say sometime, maybe? Young girl...”

I laugh as Big-G closes his eye again, but he somehow winks at me despite only one eye having been open.

“See, that’s what we talk about when we go in there. Your penises,” Jess says.

I consider how it was my penis that was on show in the toilet before smiling thinking about Big-G’s wink.

“And me and Toni kissed,” Sally says.

“With tongue,” I say, quickly retuning.

“What?” Steve says, almost leaning out of his seat to the point of falling. It’s obvious Steve fancies Sally, but for some reason I squeeze my legs together thinking of him falling on top of me.

“I had to check if I like girls, but it’s a big fat no from me,” Sally says.

“Yeah, sorry, you didn’t do anything for me either,” I say to Sally.

“Really?” Steve asks, with a smirk.

“Toni likes me and I like her!” Jess says, rather simply.

“But you’re a lesbian,” Steve says.

“Bisexual,” Jess says, “But hey! Let Toni like who she likes, even if she is straight.”

I smile hearing Jess’s comment be met with an echo of, Yeps, and That’s it! From Alan, Sam and Big-G, even if Alan and Sam are getting a little more forceful with their, well, playing on the couch.

“I’m just saying, I know Toni likes girls, even if she’s never, well...” Steve says. “And you’re not going to let yourself be-”

“Who says she hasn’t been with a girl?” Jess asks. And I’m glad I have a defender.

“Ever? Like, ever ever?” Steve asks, and laughs, “No. Never!” And that makes me flinch. “Maybe in school. Maybe she-”

“Tonight!” Jess says.

“But I mean with a girl! And there’s absolutely no way you three... While you were... There’s no way he-”

“She,” I say.

“She-” Steve says.

“What do you mean, Steve? It only counts if Toni runs riot on a woman? Like a big strong, no-use, no-ability-”

“Are you saying it only counts if I’m getting pounded by a proper, rugged manly man?” I ask, interrupting Sally.

“No. What? No, never. That’s not what I... That’s the opposite of what I mean. You have to be-”

“You did ask me to make myself look pretty for you tonight.”

“She is very pretty. Even you admitted she looks nice,” Sam says, as he and Alan begin their kissing again.

Alan nods in agreement, face full of tongue. “Stunning,” he mumbles.

“You bought me $400 shoes!” I say.

“Oh my god the shoes!” Sally says.

“A $300 dress.”

“If you want to go back to being the old you, you can give the dress to me,” Jess says to me. “But I don’t think that’s happening.”

“Some sexy lingerie...”

“No, that’s not what I bought, it was-” Steve starts.

“Do you want to push my thong aside? To fuck-”

“Stop, Toni!” Steve bellows.

“You don’t think I’m hot?” I say.

“She’s a natural,” Sally says.

“I’m a natural what?” I ask.

“Toni can torment Big-G anytime she wants,” Big-G says.

“Some day, Big-G,” I say.

“I like Toni,” Sam says, taking another oxygen break in his make-out session with Alan on the couch.

“I’ve always liked Toni,” Alan says, continuing to rub Sam’s thigh. “Steve and Toni are my best friends.”

“I like Toni, too,” Steve protests.

“We know!” everyone says.

“But how much?” Sally says.

“You three are insufferable,” Steve says.

Sally looks over at me and mouths, “Us three!” while pointing between me, Jess and herself but Jess is distracted.

She’s holding up what looks like an oversized silver bean in her hand. “Who knows what one of these is?” she asks.

“Big-G is pleading the fifth on this one,” Big-G says.

“I know what that is,” Sam says.

“Of course you do,” Sally says. “We were talking about one at work.”

“What is it?” Alan asks Sam, but Sam shakes his head.

“Is it some kind of stress ball? One of them..?” Steve asks. “Like those Chinese, or, you know those Japanese things you hold in your hand, and-”

“Oh, it definitely relieves stress,” Sally says. “And yes, you do hold it.”

“You need to get one of these and carry it in your purse, Toni,” Jess says.

“I don’t know-” Jess takes my hand, places the silver thing between my fingers and flicks a switch. It starts to vibrate in my grip while it buzzes. “Oh,” I say, realisation beginning to dawn. “OH!”

“Yes, babe. Lifesaver!”

Alan looks at Sam, who smiles. “I still don’t-” Alan begins, but one look from Sam seems to paint a thousand words. “It’s powerful enough to?” Sam nods, and shrugs, while the buzzing is still going strong between my shook fingers.

“What is it?” Steve asks.

“What’s it doing?” Sally asks Steve.

“It’s vibra...” Steve starts a sentence but he’s really not that slow. “It’s very small, isn’t it? I mean, how does it go in?” he says, while making complex hand gestures.

“Those poor women you’ve been with,” Sally says.

“I’m telling you two, come to the light,” Jess says, looking between me and Sally. “Forget the men!”

“Why is it we only ever talk about sex?” Steve asks. He’s not slow at all.

“You can talk about how hot we are,” Sally says.

“That’s still sex.”

“No, it’s about feeling good, and being complimented. I’ll tell you you look good when you do. And sometimes I’ll lie to make you feel good, and then you do look good because of confidence.”

“You look great, Sally,” Steve says.

“And you don’t look at all desperate, Steve,” Jess says.

“How do you feel, Toni?” Sally asks.

“Like a million bucks,” I say.

“Damn right, girl!” Sally says. And she holds out her hand for a low five, but I’m snug on the beanbag next to Jess so give her the finger guns. Sally laughs and rubs her forehead.

“OK. Fine, fine.” Steve says. “What do you hate most about yourself? What would you change about yourself?”

“You’re asking Toni?” Jess says, putting an arm around me.

“Finger guns,” I say, quietly.

Jess chuckles and kisses me on the temple. “Never change, girl,” she whispers.

“No, everyone. Just a question. Simple question.”

Jess leans forward and I go with her, now sitting upright, no longer in her arms. As I perch next to her, leaning on me knees, she takes my hand in both of hers and holds it in her lap. “OK, fine. If you want. But Toni doesn’t go first. Or even second.”

“Maybe third,” I say.

“You go first, Steve,” Jess says. “You brought it up.”

Big-G coughs, opens his eyes, and says without a hitch, “Big-G hates nothing about himself, and accepts Big-G is the package Big-G comes in, but saying that, Big-G would like to stop talking in the third person but it’s engrained in Big-G now.”

“You don’t at the office,” Steve says.

“Big-G is ever the professional in workplace settings,” the very naked Big-G says.

“I don’t like my hair,” I say. Despite not having to say anything I really felt it.

“Your hair is just normal hair,” Steve says.

“It’s too angular, and sharp. The black is too black as well. It doesn’t look natural. I don’t want to look so severe,” I say, reaching up and touching the artificial strands.

“That’s a wig, dude,” Steve says.

“That’s her hair! Dude!” Jess says.

“Jess gets her hair done at least once every three weeks,” Sally says. “All the colours. She’ll be bald by the time she’s forty.”

“I couldn’t afford that,” I say. “Which is another thing. My job is terrible. I get no respect. I’ve never had a promotion, my raises are all the base, agreed level. I see all of you doing so well professionally and I don’t seem to make any progress.”

“Have they met Toni?” Jess asks.

“I’ve worked there three years,” I say.

“No. Toni, Toni?”

“What. No! No way,” I say.

“The Toni I know would be kicking ass,” Jess says. “But I suppose I don’t know the Toni who’s been working there for three years. That could be a completely different person.”

“He is,” I say quietly, with a sigh.

“Big-G thinks it’s a pity the terms of the bet means people can’t get dressed again.”

“Why?” Steve asks.

“Big-G thinks Sam and Alan would be making their way to one of their homes right now if they had their clothes on.” He nods towards the couch where Alan is sitting with handful of Sam’s groin while they make out like sixteen year olds.

“Yeah, fair,” Steve says. “Lads’ night isn’t so much lads’ night when three women rock up and upset our rhythm.” He throws a cushion at Sam and Alan. “You two can use my room. Well, the couch. Just the couch. Definitely not my bed. I’ve just changed the sheets and I do not want your two’s juices all over them.”

Alan stands with Sam’s hand in his, leans into kiss him quickly before pulling him out of his sitting position, and in a stage whisper to him says, “Mmm, juices.”

“This is truly fucked,” Steve says.

“C’mon, Steve. Let’s get those clothes in the dryer,” Sally says as she stands.

“Yeah, lads’ night was a bust. Everyone can change back soon.”

“No,” I gasp, leaning forward out of my seat, reaching my arms as if to stop them. The weight of having to get back into my old clothes and no longer being allowed to be Toni pressing on me.

“It’s OK, babe,” Jess says. “It’s OK...” She pushes me back on the beanbag as Steve and Sally leave. “Close your eyes, Big-G,” she continues.

“Big-G is a gentleman,” Big-G says while Jess reaches down to my dress, her hand going behind me and lifting my behind up.

I raise myself knowing this will all be over soon and it’s the last of, well, everything. I’ll go with anything if this night doesn’t end.

“You close your eyes, Toni,” Jess says.

“Now?” I ask.

“I promised you something,” she says. I hear the little vibrator click on. Buzzing fills the air and I draw a long, deep breath. “I’m going to make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”

I feel her hike my dress up above my groin, up around my stomach, cooler air reaching my butt with only a thong and the pantihose to clothe it, turning me on just a little. She pushes me back down on the beanbag, lies up next to me, wrapping one of her legs around mine, in a tangle.

There’s a swelling in my chest, in my core. A swelling that feels almost like peace. Jess moves her vibrating hand all the way down to my calf. Shivers shoot from my leg all over at her touch with her inching the vibrator up the back of my leg, and behind my knee. Her other hand is now inside my dress, and reaching up, inside my bra. She cups my breast, taking the whole of it in her fingers as I push my ass deep into the giving beanbag, squirming.

She grabs my nipple between her fingers and pinches just as she gets to the inner space between my crotch and thigh with the vibrator, sending pulses forcing me to spread my legs to take it. I want to spread my legs. I want to take it. “Yes,” I whisper, knowing if this happens this one night will have been worth it.

“Open your eyes, babe,” she says. And I look into her gaze as I move my mound up and down to grind against the heel of her palm she obligingly holds there.

“Look at G,” she says. And I do. My eyes go to his magnificent cock and I lick my lips as I imagine me kneeling before him.

“G..?” Jess says.

Big-G opens his eyes and I move my stare from his dick to meet his view as though I’m looking up at him from right before him. He looks at me as though he has a question, and as I notice this Jess moves the vibrator from my the crook of my thigh and groin to my panties clad penis. “Please!” I moan, spreading my legs wider still, still staring at G.

G nods. He brings his hand to his dick and slowly begins to stroke, his cock becoming hard.

“I want this,” I say.

“Tell me what you’re going do to G,” Jess says.

“I want to mount him,” I say.

“Yes,” Jess says. G is stroking faster while watching Jess fuck me with her hand.

“Then what would you do?”

“My legs wrap around him, clinging onto him. I’m on top. I pull him in close feeling him between me. My god he’s between me... I feel his heat against mine. I move my hands over his chest, his hair is so good.” Jess presses the vibrator hard into my dick. “Manly chest hair...” I moan as I clamp my thighs tight onto her hand not letting her get away. “I grind on him.”

“Do you want him?”

“Yes! All of him. I want all of him!” I’m breathing faster and I don’t know if my eyes are open or closed. I don’t know if I can even see G masturbating or if I feel him on top of me. Jess moves more fingers down to my taint, fingering me.

I buck into her vibrating hand. She’s more forceful on my nipple now, twisting, aggressive, my tits feels so sensitive, like a soft breeze would turn me on. My insides contract. I want G inside me.

“Is G going to fuck you? Would you let him enter you? You, Toni. An innocent virgin? Would you let G fuck you?”

“Oh please fuck me, G,” I say. Jess stabs fingers into where my scrotum is and I fuck her hand back. I’m rocking in the beanbag now. It’s a rhythm fucking me and I’m giving it all back. I’m being fucked and I’m fucking. Me changing between pounding my ass back into the seat and fucking Jess’s hand fucking me.

G is going miles an hour on his big, hard dick and I’m imagining it repeatedly entering me, in and out, forcing me to scream. “On top of me G, please,” I plead. I’m going to... Jess is violent with me now. I can’t survive this. I want G to do me hard, like I’m a little bitch. “Fuck your little bitch, G. Fuck me hard. Take me like a bitch, please! Fuck me, G. Fuck me!” I scream.

My legs spring high, bent in the air, with me giving in completely to Jess’s hand pounding me, and I see my heels pointing towards the sky as G fucks me. I have no more to give. He’s fucking me and I’ve got nothing to give. I’m all woman. I’m fully woman. “G, I’m going to...” My back arches. I rock back and forth. I’m so fucking contorted. I’m twisted. My eyes are wide open. “Fuck me! G! Fuck your little bitch! Cum in your little whore!”

Spasms run through my body as I shoot my load into my panties again, letting out a primal groan before falling back into the beanbag. My legs go limp and land spread eagled as Jess fucks my scrotum a few more times. I lie back and close my eyes, breathing hard. There’s cum all inside my panties, inside the liner, but that’s me. That’s all me, and I love it. Jess is rubbing the pad from the outside with her vibrating hand. I feel warm, and whole. My body is at peace.

I feel a kiss on my lips. Jess is above me. “You did great, babe,” she says.

“I...” I begin to say. Then I turn my head to look at Big-G. His cock is soft, his eyes are closed, seemingly asleep, but there’s a smile on his face.

“Want to do it again?” Jess asks.

“When?” I say.

“You’ve got a whole new life in front of you, Toni,” Jess says.

I close my eyes, not able to stop myself from beaming, thinking of being fucked while Jess cuddles up next to me.

I don’t know how much time has passed when I feel Jess rattle me.

“C’mon babe, get yourself cleaned up, we’re leaving,” she says.

“What, where?” I say.

“The taxi’s on it’s way. Go to the toilet while you can, and you need to borrow a jacket from Steve for outside.”

“What? No!” I say. Sure, this night has been amazing, and I don’t want it to end, but I can’t go outside in a black, date night dress and heels. I can’t let people see me in this get-up!

“I’m not leaving you here with these unruly beasts. Who knows what they’d do to you! You can come back to my place. I have a big bed.”

“I can’t go out like this!” I squeak.

“It’s dark, no-one will care, and there’s no way I’m leaving you alone tonight,” Jess says. “Even then, we have to drop Sally off at her place and I would really prefer if it wasn’t just me in the car with the taxi driver.”

“But...” I say, but I don’t really know what to continue with as I sit up out of the beanbag.

“Anyway, you don’t actually want to stay here. You know it, I know it, and I don’t want to spend the time best used by you cleaning up on convincing you, so let’s cut to the chase,” she says, then she slaps me on the thigh.

“I’ll go the toilet,” I say. “And think about it.”

“No. No thinking. Thinking is bad for you. You already know.”

And as I make my way to the bathroom, and lock the door, and pull down my panties, and sit down to pee I know I do already know. I don’t want tonight to end. Tomorrow is different. Once tomorrow comes it’ll be different, but before I go to bed it’s just a game, right? This is just... What is it? It’s not a game. Just don’t let tonight end.

Leaving the bathroom I hear conversation from the kitchen. Walking in Sally is still fully clothed, sweater dress and boots, and Steve has now lost his tie, shirt and under-shirt, chest bared, poker hand laid out in front of him.

“I need to borrow a jacket, Steve,” I say.

“You going somewhere?” he says with a chuckle.

“Back to Jess’s.”

“Dressed like..? I mean, it’s your life, dude,” he says.

“It is her life,” Sally says. “Now go get her a jacket and be thankful the game is ending and I’m not forcing you to get your tiny, little peepee out. Because then you’d have no chance with Toni.”

“Fine, yeah, sure,” Steve says. “I mean, the dryer will be done with your normal clothes in about thirty minutes, but you do you,” he says, looking me up and down before leaving to his room to get me something to keep warm.

“Go gather your purse and things, Toni,” Sally says.

Soon I’m standing outside Steve’s building, waiting for a taxi, arm in arm with my new friends, looking around like I’m seeing the night for the first time.

As the taxi pulls up I’m shaking. I whisper to Jess, “What about my voice?”

“Just close your eyes,” She says and climbs into the back seat, pulling me behind, with Sally clambering in after me.

“Good night, ladies?” the taxi driver asks.

“Great night! We’re pooped. So if you hear snores don’t be alarmed,” Jess says, and squeezes my hand, so I lay my head back and close my eyes.

“Oh? You must know my wife,” he says. “Forty years married and she still denies she sounds like a saw on timber. Where to?”

We drive through the night and eventually I open my eyes to watch the city passing by. I see revellers and partiers, some dressed like me, and it all looks just perfect. We drive miles out of town to a suburb to drop Sally off, then back into the city, and before I know it I’m in Jess’s little studio apartment, kicking off my heels.

“Go on. Go wash your makeup off,” she says.

When I come out of the toilet, Jess points at the bed before she goes to clean up. I see the side she pointed to has the covers folded down, with a nightdress laid out on top of it. I get undressed except for my panties, put on the nightdress and climb into the bed, exhausted.

Through the fog of coming sleep I hear the toilet door open, and Jess say, “You know you’re amazing, Toni.”

“Tonight was amazing,” I mumble, and soon I’m in nothingness.