A Masquerade

"Probably not, but he might if you blew him," he made a face.

"Blech...I'd rather fuck 'em."

"What? I thought you were straight?"

"Hey, man, a hole's a hole, and we're talkin' about weed. If doin' a hole gets me a new connection for primo shit then I'm there, man. And don't fuckin' look at me like that, Gideon. I know what yer thinkin'. That it's cold that I'd use him like that, but he'd be usin' me just as much. It'd be a symbiotic relationship; ya dig? I'd be getting' what I want, he'd be gettin' what he wants, we'd both have a new buddy and everybody'd be happy."

I just shook my head and went back to mingling. Finding Tony at the wet bar, I thought to warn him about Jesse. They were both my friends, but I'd known Tony a hall of a lot longer. His reaction shouldn't have surprised me, I suppose.

"No shit? He told you that? Wow, thanks for passing the word, Gideon, you're a true friend. Gonna get some tonight," he practically sang the last sentence, and started whistling Mack the Knife as he grabbed their drinks and headed for Jesse. Again, all I could do was shake my head in astonishment and circulate some more.

Sylvia, a transsexual who'd yet to see the sharp side of the knife where the 'boys' were concerned, had a perfect Dolly Parton going. The enormous breast implants and equally huge, blonde wig definitely helped, since they made it difficult to focus on anything else; the effect was almost hypnotic. I was chatting with her about how uncomfortable my corset was when I heard the distinct sound of Em's laughter behind me.

I turned just as she said, "Oh my God...I can't believe he got you into a dress." I froze when I saw her.

"That little bitch lied to me," I said indignantly, "He told me he couldn't find a Robin Hood costume when there was no way he'd have gotten me one if he could because he knew that's what you were coming as. You two planned this between you, right?" I took her in, and caught myself faintly wondering which the illusion was, the man standing in front of me, or the woman I'd kissed on the Ferris Wheel.

She crossed the ten feet separating us, "No, chéri, I had no idea what costume he would pick for you. He asked me what I planned on coming as and I told him I was going to be Errol Flynn in his role of Robin Hood. I actually expected him to get you Will Scarlett, or maybe Little John. This never crossed my mind, I swear."

"He's a twisted, little shit. He's playing Will tonight," I said, pulling her against me and seized her mouth for a hello kiss. Holding her tightly, caressing her back, I decided that I liked the way she felt without a bra breaking the smooth lines of her spine and ribs. ¬I was nearly lost in her taste when Sylvia violently cleared her throat to get my attention.

When I broke the kiss to look at her she said, "Aren't you going to introduce me to your new boyfriend, Gideon? Where have you been hiding him, anyway?"

I looked into Em's eyes, while I responded, "I'll introduce you as soon as I'm ready to share her company," I took her hand and lead her to the refreshment table. On the way, I whispered, "You look fantastic in those tights, by the way."

"I do?"

"You know you do," I said with a grin. I spotted Caleb across the room and caught his attention so that I could shake my finger at him as if he were an errant child. He snickered and looked very proud of himself.

As we circled the refreshment table, picking out choice tidbits, I began noticing little things about her that raised questions, and caused a gradually deepening suspicion to set it. Her hands reaching for crescent pastry; they seemed slender and delicate next to mine, but compared to another woman's? Her deep, smoky laughter; it wasn't unheard of for a woman to have a deep voice, but I'd known men who could be mistaken for a woman if you weren't looking at them when they spoke. She deliberately bumped her slim hip against mine, joggling my plate on purpose; she was slender, almost breast less, but plenty of women had a boyish figure.

The look on her face that last night flashed into my mind's eye; at the time I'd thought she was stunned to find out I'd never been with a woman, but what if her surprise came from finding out that I thought she was a woman and she didn't know how to tell me she wasn't? All of it was circumstantial, but when put together with Caleb's reaction to me asking her out that first day, these facts shaped themselves into an equation that just might add up to a different sum than I'd believed.

Speaking softly into the shell of her ear, I told her that I desperately wanted a moment alone with her, would she mind coming into one of the bedrooms where it would be quiet. Letting her precede me into the room, I shut and locked the door before gently guiding her over to the bed. I looked her over closely, noting all the small details, facial features that undisguised by makeup now, shape of shoulders and hips, the fingers nervously fiddling with the bowstring cutting across the flat chest, taking it all in. She had a strange, almost frightened, look in her eyes as she stood there.

"Gideon—"

"Shhhh...not yet, Em."

Stepping forward, I got her to sit, knelt in front of her, and let my hands roam up her ribs to her chest, feeling carefully the whole way. I didn't detect any constraining garments under the close fitting tunic, but I did feel a flat, masculine chest, and I actually felt his nipples harden under my thumbs. Looking up into his Mediterranean blue eyes, I couldn't hide my smile.

"I knew it," I said.

"When?" he asked, the breath he'd been holding gushing out of his lungs.

"Just now, at the refreshment table, but I wasn't positive. At that point it wasn't more than suspicion, but it explained my inexplicable attraction to a woman."

"I thought you knew because of the way you were acting toward me. I knew you were gay from Caleb, and he knew my gender, so I concluded that you did."

"I know, Em, I figured that out after rethinking what was said in my living room. I'm not upset, not in the least. By the way, what's your name?"

"Emelyne is my taken name, my given name is Emory."

"Emory...that's nice. I like both, and having people call you Em is smart," I said with a chuckle. I was looking at him, really seeing all of him, the man under the woman's mask, the femininity that allowed him to portray a woman so successfully. I saw both Emelyne and Emory, the two together were just Em in my eyes now. I saw one complete person and I wanted him more than ever.

His eyes dilated suddenly, "You're looking at me that way again...like you did in Cuisine De Pays," he breathed.

"Am I?" he nodded, "I guess that's because I don't want to look at or be with anyone but you for the foreseeable future."

He made a strange sound of longing in the back of his throat and slid into my lap. Wrapping my arms around him, I met him halfway in a Ferris Wheel kiss. We locked in a sweet, slow waltz of tongues, lingering caresses of lips, while our bodies moving against and with each other's. I don't know how long we stayed like this, but I finally broke the embrace out of frustration.

"I can't stand it," I panted, "I can't feel your body with mine through this damned dress. Help me out of it, baby."

"Should we be doing this here?" he asked, looking worriedly at the locked door, while helping me with the catches on the corset as I pulled my hat off. That hat had been pissing me off since Caleb put it on me; I threw it across the room. It made the most phenomenal bang when it hit the door.

"Yes, right here, right now and I don't give a flying rat's ass who hears us." Just then, someone knocked on the door, startling us both.

"Is everyone alright in there?" we heard a muffled voice ask.

"Yes, everything's fine," I answered.

"Are you—"

"Go away!" I thundered as the last two hooks came loose. We heard a startled squeal and the sound of spiked heels clacking quickly away on the hard wood floor.

"That was mean, chéri," Em giggled, "Who was it anyway?"

"Sylvia...umm...Dolly? We were talking when you got here. I don't care if it was mean, she was hanging around hoping we'd come back out soon so she could try to glom onto you. She likes the pretty boys," I finished and stood to pull the gown over my head. I dropped it and knelt back down while working the skullcap off and digging the pins out of my hair.

"Fat chance, those things on her chest are as big as a baby's head," he snorted, "You think I'm pretty?"

"Quit fishing for compliments, baby," he chuckled at my response as I mussed my hair to make it feel more natural, and pulled him into my lap. Grabbing the pointed bill of his cap, I flicked it away.

"Oh—" he squeaked watching it fly before I captured his mouth, kissing him hard. I could feel his body with mine now, and it stoked the fire into a roaring blaze. His hard on and his belt buckle were both pressing into my bare stomach. I slid my hands down, cupping his firm ass, and rolled my hips against his, rubbing our straining shafts together through my boxers and his tights.

I slid one hand into the back of his tights, while reaching around with the other to get his belt off. I played my fingers along his crack as I tossed his belt to the side. Wrapping my arm around him again, I slid my hand under his tunic and trailed my fingers up his spine. The fingers of my other hand delved into his warm cleft, seeking a bundle of nerves hidden within. He panted into my mouth, each breath a whine of need. I found the hot, crinkled flesh I was looking for, and pressed my fingertips against it firmly, massaging in tight, little circles. His pelvis thrust into my abs, and I could feel his thighs quivering where they pressed against my hips as he grunted loudly.

His head fell back onto the bed, his chest bowed up and his hips twisted and ground his ass against my pulsing cock. I needed to see all of him. I got him out of his costume as quickly as I could without damaging it, tossing the various pieces without regard for where they came to rest. He was beautiful, his face flushed, and his chest heaving and damp with sweat, nipples small, flat disks peaked in hard pebbles, his abs tight and his cock, slightly curved toward his stomach. I wanted to consume all of him at once, and couldn't decide where to begin.

I stopped thinking and did whatever came to mind, starting with his nipples. I dragged the flat of my tongue over one then the other, sucking and biting lightly between swirling licks. His hands were clutching my back and running through my hair, while he humped against my stomach, caught in the clutches of need. I couldn't wait much longer; I desperately wanted to sink myself into him. I got him to turn around, pushing his shoulders up onto the bed. Pulling his cheeks apart, I dove in, not wasting any time. My tongue immediately breeched his outer muscles, eliciting a constant stream of mewls that grew louder by the second. I worked his pucker hard with my tongue and fingers, needing to get him ready for me a quickly as possible. Soon neither of us could wait any longer.

"Gid—eon...puh-please..." he pleaded between sobbing breaths. His whole body shook as if from a violent chill. Lifting myself up, I pushed my boxers to my knees, and pulled him over my lap by his hips. He hovered above my streaming cock, while I smeared my pre-cum over the shaft. I'd only rubbed the spongy, mushroom head over his hole a couple times when he suddenly lunged down onto me. I grunted in surprise, and heard his wavering keen as his ass slapped against my pelvis.

"Shit, Em," I said, clutching him so he wouldn't move, "Did you hurt yourself?" I could feel his body adjusting itself around my aching shaft and almost couldn't keep from thrusting.

"No...God no!" he growled, as he began rolling his hips as if he was astride a horse at a fast walk, "Oh damn, chéri...fu-uck me...h-hard," he demanded, somewhere between a groan and a growl.

Such a raw demand made in my sweet, soft-spoken Em's sultry contralto broke the last shred of my control. Raising my ass off my heels, I clutched his hips and surged into him hard. I rode him fast, and a quavering wail exploded from his lungs every time my cock hammered over his prostate. My balls were beginning to pull up, and a tingling spread down the insides of my thighs and over my ass as a tightening sensation built in my stomach. Reaching around, I took the slick head of his heavily drooling cock in my hand and rotated my fist around it, matching the speed of my thrusting hips.

His body clamped down on my swelling shaft and quivered in ripples that tried to pull me deeper into his burning depths just as the rest of him froze. I felt his cock pulse in my hand a second before the first jet burst into my palm and through my fingers. His sudden stillness ended as abruptly as it had begun and he writhed on my cock, his tight ass milking me. My own orgasm hit like a blinding cannon barrage, ripping through me with an intensity that verged on pain. Our individual cries of mutual release blended into a chorus of sound that must have traveled through the whole house.

I came back to myself lying on Em's back, his torso still braced on the foot of the bed. Grazing my palms over his abs and up to his chest, I cupped his pecs and stroked his nipples, while trailing a string of open mouthed kissed across his shoulders to the nap of his neck. He shuddered almost imperceptibly, and looked over his shoulder, smiling sleepily at me.

"Let's crawl up on the bed and rest, baby," I suggested, gently disengaging myself from his heat, making him groan softly. Music started playing in the living room, and I realized that I hadn't heard any for a while. I laughed involuntarily. When Em asked what was funny I told him, and laughed harder when he turned bright red.

Once we'd settled ourselves on in the middle of the bed, we cuddled and talked quietly about nothing in particular until I thought to ask how Caleb had known Em's gender when I hadn't twigged to it. It turned out that they'd met at a drag club downtown. They'd been there to see a mutual friend perform and he introduced them between shows.

Our conversation meandered into other areas, "I had to have unconsciously known you were a man all along. You know why?"

"Why's that, chéri?" he asked, nuzzling his soft lips against the stiffening peak of one of my nipples.

"Because I was so attracted to you that even your perfume turned me on, and I usually hate cologne made for women. It's just too sweet and flowery for me," I replied, making a slight face.

His hearty laughter startled me, "Sweet, sexy man," he said, kissing me softly several times. "I wear male pheromone cologne underneath whatever perfume I happen to decide on for the day. It puts the straight men off and attracts the gay boys, though neither group understands why," he winked and laughed again at my expression. "Of course, it does confuse the straight ladies as well."

I couldn't stand it, I rolled him onto his back and proceeded to tickle him breathless saying, "You're a devious, little daemon, Emory. You're evil, and must be destroyed."

After a while we felt recharged enough to return to the party, and I asked him if he'd slip down the hall and get my street clothes from Caleb's bed because there was no way I would put that dress back on. He seemed nervous about leaving the room alone, but after I checked to see if the coast was clear for him, he hurried down and back. It didn't take long to make myself mostly presentable. We made a quick stop in the bathroom to clean up a little bit before joining the crowd of revelers.

I led Em through the press of people toward the refreshments, my arm around his back, my hand cupping his hip. Just a couple of feet into the room, the people began noticing us, and parting like the Red Sea before Moses. The music became nearly inaudible, submerged under murmurs, giggles and snickers. Em was clearly mortified.

"Don't let it bother you, baby," I whispered to him, "They're all jealous because I've got the prettiest, and smartest person in the state on my arm after having made boisterous love to him, while all they got to do was listen," he flushed and grinned then nuzzled my ear and kissed my jaw.

Caleb met us at the refreshments, "Where's your costume?" he demanded.

"It's in the spare bedroom. There was no way I was going to squeeze myself back into that damned thing. I don't feel like being uncomfortable the rest of the night, and everyone's seen me in the damned thing anyway. Besides, you have Robin Hood here to keep your costume company." He pouted at me, and I shook my head, "Don't even bother. It's not going to work this time. This is just the beginning of what you owe me for that little trick you played on me." Seeing that I meant it, he gave up.

"What did I do?"

"Don't try to play innocent. You know exactly what I'm talking about, Caleb. By the way, I've got a little present for you."

He looked extremely suspicious, but asked what it was. I told him to wait there and went out to the driveway to my car. When I got back, Caleb was introducing Em around. Em seemed to have gotten over his embarrassment, and looked to be having a good time becoming acquainted with our friends.

"Here, these are for you," I said, handing Caleb a small stack of books. The look on his face as he read the titles was the funniest thing I'd seen in days.

"The Low Down on Going Down: How to Give Her Mind-Blowing Oral Sex, The Joy of Sex and The Kama Sutra? Why are you giving me these?" he said, sounding completely disgusted, and tried to give them back to me.

Refusing to take them I said, "Those are your punishment for letting me think that Emory was a woman, when you knew perfectly well he wasn't. I read those books cover to cover twice because I didn't want to make a fool of myself in bed. I expect you to read them cover to cover at least once, as payback." His expression was becoming more comical by the second, and everyone in our part of the room was tittering and snickering. "Not only that, you have to study the pictures...in detail. You'll get these back after you've passed a test on the material contained in those books," I finished, holding up his VHS and DVD copies of The Princess Bride.

He squawked and tried to snatch them from me, but I held them over my head while everyone around us roared with laughter at his feeble attempts to wrest his one addiction back from me. He wouldn't get them for some time.