Cricket 01

Cricket 01

Hey there, my name is Cricket and I wanted to start my story with a few simple, yet truthful, statements to set the record straight because there are a few people who have it all wrong. I'm saying they are bad people, but when it comes to me, they are wrong people.

First, there are the people who call me Cricket because I making a chirping sound when I'm nervous. That is totally false. I do not chirp like a cricket, I click. See, listen for yourself (chirp, chirp, chirp) vs my mindless tongue fiddling (click, click, click). You hear it, right? My nervous cheek and tongue twitching is undeniably a clicking sound and it's just my way.

Secondly, my sweet tooth issues hardly qualify as an addiction. I can lay out of double chocolate milk shakes any time I want too. I just chose not too at this time. I actually use my Thursday visits to the Ice Cream Parlor uptown as a method of socializing. A few of the people who work there are become my second group of friends and they promised me that they use only the best low-calorie diet ingredients. Besides, I run it off every Saturday morning by taking two laps around the water park area in the park. And nothing feels better than taking a stroll around the splash pad area every three weeks, but it's on the outside of the fencing, so that's more and it equals running two laps every Saturday morning.

And finally, I don't expose a lot of skin because I'm trying to hide the battle of the bulge that the milk shakes are winning. I'm quite happy with my body, but I'm straight as a board and I'm afraid the park workers will mistake me for lumber and nail me (click, click) to the wall. Or play basketball with my volley ball.

Alright, now that the people who are wrong (click, click) have been corrected, let me move on.

I love my life choices, but I hate the limited categories that I have to be labelled in. I do wear female clothing a lot, but I do not (click, click) consider myself as a cross dresser. I just like the clothes, the way they feel and the way I look in them. If it were up to me, I would classify myself as Cricket.

I don't wear skirts or dresses, but I definitely found (click, click) my comfort zone in jeans, capri pants or shorts. I'm not all about those ridiculously small Denim shorts, but I appreciate the wide variety of tights that are available to wear under my conversative Denim shorts. The different fashion looks that come with wearing a combo of tights and shorts are as endless as the "accidental" ass gropes I endure every time I visit my friends or attend a party. Wearing female pants has also become endless in my life no matter if I'm out as my normal Cricket self or my noticeable fem Cricket self. People are used to it now. Also, costumes don't count as skirts.

I'm pretty simple with my tops. I may a variety of things like a sports tank top, a logo T-shirt or even a body suit, but I always cover up (click, click) with an unbuttoned and free flowing short sleeve blouse and I have a large variety of styles and colors.

My undies are a free for all downstairs, but I generally try to match the scheme with something else that I'm wearing. I rarely (click, click) wear a stuffed bra, but there are a few occasions where I do. It has been my experience that (click, click) people have an easier time accepting in fem jeans if I leave the bra at home.

I have been known to go over board with my eye makeovers, but I love treating whoever I'm in front of with eyes that they like. I can do dark encircled eyes and I have no (click, click) problem taking the time to line my eyelids with adhesive eye glitter Pearls. And I've good at those because they are my favorite and a major attraction feature. You (click, click) may want to sneak a cheap feel and then you may think twice about it because you know it's gay, but my flashing eyes are going to hypnotize you and then you'll take efforts to find me in a corner or alone somewhere and gay becomes lost and replaced with lust. And don't worry, I'll let you know (click, click) when enough is enough. One per customer please.

I do not exactly practice a fem attitude nor do I portray one to anyone. I will never ask someone to let me be the "girl" in their life, but I will behave as the second partner if that situation arises. Sure, I have used my hands to touch a few of the people who have had secret and private conversations with me, but to me, I'm just being the second human being (click, click, click) in the conversation. I'm not sure how successful I have been at that and I may have taken it too far a few times, but I want people to think of my head against there chest as, well, I don't know what I want them think, but I do want them to think of me as the girlfriend. I just want it to be a moment and whatever TV we are watching should be the main focus. Even if I didn't just say that very well, it's easier said than done. LOL, guys be frisky!

And I guess that brings me around (click, click) to dating. I don't. I would if guys weren't so frisky, but until the rules change because the current rule is sex first, dinner another time, I don't. I mean, some people just have it so wrong, right? But it's not like I'm exactly dry and by that, I mean I get the offers and they would do better if they wouldn't be so, but you know, guys be frisky.

But I have done a few things. Last summer I went on a weekend camping trip with my friend Josh in his fancy Pop-Up Camper and it wasn't the worst thing that I could have done. It was absolutely nerve racking as I prepared to "shack up" with Josh (his words) for a weekend in the woods, but (click, click) it didn't turn out all that bad. Josh's love for capri tights was a little difficult to control in the evenings, but Josh's love for his wacky weed worked in my favor. I did crawl into his bunk after he had passed and I'm still not sure that he knows that yet today, but the weekend went along and I came home as I left. Also, LOL, Josh be frisky.

My only other risky adventure was at Jake's Luau party last August. It's easy to say that it was more on me, but I blame all of the lingering wacky weed smoke and maybe the vodka shots. Oh, I also blame Darrin for starting it, but it's fair to say that I finished it. Darrin was drunk flirting me (click, click) all night and I may have offered to show him the way to the bathroom and there may have been vodka shots involved. LOL, Darrin blamed it on my luau costume. Oops, LOL, we were both frisky

And I never let on to Jake that his bed was such a mess because of his queer friend fem Cricket confused his bedroom for the bathroom. But I still woke up in the morning (click, click) ah, unpenetrated shall I shall? I mean, that's about all that I can claim and I may not exactly remember everything little thing, but I'm pretty sure (click, click) that some things are remembered, though thought or body pain.

Anyways, Darrin never received any credit for anything. He did call me a few days later, but his terms and conditions didn't set well me. I mean, is there actually such a thing as a "number four" side piece? Especially when there (click, click) was no "piece" involved, as I remember it? Whatever, I submitted a counter proposal because I do remember that Darrin was gentle and fun and being the second human being in a ball of flesh is directly related to vodka shots and a draped hula costume.

So, I think that is me in a nutshell. You can question why I wear fem jeans every day, but don't make it about cross dressing. You can call me queer or soft, but don't push me away, just try to embrace my affections. I'm harmless I tell you. And don't ask me to be the designated server, I mean take what I offer, but don't yell out "Cricket, I'm dry" or things like that. Catch me in the corner and whisper such things in my ear, just don't ask (click, click) for a beer and a blow job. Also, I don't think I gave Darrin a blow job, but there was a lot of stuff going on in such a short amount of time and there was all that second hand smoke and the vodka shots and I'm not sure what the hell happened.

Oh, wait, I had a girlfriend last spring. She was literally the girl next door because she and her sister literally lived next door. Her name is Bing-Bing and her sisters name is Mei-Ling.

Mei-Ling just so happens to be the owner/manger of the Ice Cream Parlor, so I think it's safe to say that I knew her before I really got to know Bing-Bing because of my addiction to milk shakes, double chocolate milk shakes, which is not an addiction. I will remind you that it's how I socialize outside of my group of friends.

Anyways, Bing-Bing and I went out three or four times (click, click) in the spring before we went our separate ways, only Bing-Bing has a funny way of going her own way. She was all crushed and sad and claimed that she would never date white rice again. And by that, I mean she stills sneaks across the lawn when she needs cash. It was my bad to show her where I kept the spare key to the back door, which is now on her key ring.

Oh, and better yet, when I try to speak to Mei-Ling about her sister's funny ways of dumping me, well, it's the only time I ever hear Mei-Ling using a broken English accent. It usually starts out with "sissy boy Cricket", has a broken sentence in the middle that is hard to argue with, takes a left turn which includes something "wrapped around finger", comes down the home stretch with Mei-Ling winning and best answer I ever get is another super thick milkshake and a shut it. You know, my drug of choice and the real reason I don't wear crop tops and why I always wear a cover up shirt.

Oh, and let's not forget that according to Mei-Ling, I should be proud and happy to be known as her sister's Sugar Free Sugar Daddy. I mean, that screams happy and proud, right? Also, hah, I know all about Mei-Ling's tricks! None of my belly bulging chocolate milk shakes are sugar free!

So, there, that's the life of Cricket. It's great, it's almost sad, it has its moments, it has its down sides, but people let me live freely. Well, except for the cost of all of those milk shakes and all of the debts that Bing-Bing racks up on my ATM Card, which is claims is her ATM Card because at 21, she is just too young to get a job. I mean, you have to get up before 10am if you work, right?

Well, that was all so last spring, summer, fall and winter. And here we are again, it's spring again and my social life just leveled up. A few weeks ago, I was hanging out at the Ice Cream Parlor, avoiding any conversations with Mei-Ling, but not avoiding my milk shake, when I came face to face with a pleasant surprise.

A confusing surprise, but definitely a up close and (click, click) personal surprise. I had just popped out of the restroom and literally ran face to face into a guy as he was turning around to walk out of the door. That may not sound so surprising, but it was almost my first kiss. We were that close. And no, I don't think Darrin and I got that frisky last August.

Anyways, that wasn't the biggest surprise. He (click, click, click) was holding two Raspberry Smoothies, which I almost smashed and spilled. And if you're a follower, then you know as well as I do that it meant he had some experience with dating a T-Girl or two. If you live in or around Middleton and you are holding a Raspberry Smoothie, well, you're either a T-Girl who has a date or you're the guy who is dating a T-Girl. Those are the only two choices around these parts.

Well, his name was Kyle and he was fairly attractive and I was face to face with him and he was all about those infamous Raspberry Smoothies and it was spring time, so the girl who works behind the counter felt the need to break that up. Jeannie, who has a vibrant personality and deserves her very own story, couldn't help but to jump in.

"Hey you two, take to the back or take it outside! This is a family business. Just let me know what you decide so I can follow along to watch. Also, Mei-Ling doesn't pay me enough to clean "spill in aisle 2", so use protection and get that stuff contained."

Also, Jeannie, as loud and brash as she is, is such a slut, I mean, she thinks she is a perfect match maker, but every single one of her attempts has ended in failure. I don't know what is about her, but she has a knack for "hooking up" the wrong people. And by that, I mean they are related somewhere down the line. The tree may have deep roots, but her perfect hook ups seem to share the same dirt somewhere. It's scary, but it's her way.

"Oh, ah, hold please sir. Shut it, Jeannie! It was an accident and I'm checking to make sure that his shirt doesn't have any spills or spots on it. He is obviously on his way to date."

"Hah, that's not his shirt. Also, you two are not related, I checked."

"Never mind her, ah, sir??? I'm Cricket, by the way (click, click) and I'm all about your teal polo shirt. Go Chanticleers, right?"

"Hi, I'm Kyle and it is very nice to smash you, I mean meet you. So, is my shirt clean or is this a date? It feels like a date, not that I'm complaining."

"Well, the truth is that Jeannie has probably already posted that's it a date, but I can clearly see that you have somewhere to be. Raspberry Smoothies have a history tagged to them. And I don't really want to know, but is your date (click, click, click, click) with anyone I may know of?"

"Well, then I don't know to answer that, but we're two weeks into the standard four weeks relationship, if that helps. Also, that's still not my shirt."

"Oops, so, are we exchanging contact info? By the way, I'm here at the Ice Cream Parlor every Thursday evening about 7pm. I socialize here and apparently, spill stuff. And by socialize, I mean I don't know any of those people (click, click) who work behind the counter or in the back, so never mind what they say."

"Ah, so, ah, that milk shake on the big menu isn't named after you?"

"Never mind all that. I'm single and I've never been on a real date, that's what the menu should say."

LOL, enter stage slightly behind us, Jeannie.

"Cricket, did you notice that Mei-Ling added two more shakes that are named after you on the big board? One is a smaller size of your standard for people who actually watch their weight and the other is one that has a touch of fresh mint because you're all fresh and stuff. Also, I doubled checked and the two of you are not related."

"OMFG Jeannie, shut it already. By the way, did your second cousin, who is pregnant from your other cousin have her baby in prison yet? Ignore her Kyle and concentrate on my flashy eyes and please tell me that your T-Girl s Rena Raye. I can't compete with all that."

"Hey, you shut it and that's still not his shirt, even though that is one fine way to rub a spot clean. Anyways, the Judge let CeCe out and put her under house arrest, I mean, it's the Judge's house, but she's out just the same. And by the way, it was a perfect match up! CeCe had twins, so she has one hanging off of each titty. One for one I tell you. Also, my phone Family Affair App guarantees that you two are not related, so suck some face, you know, in the back. I have been a little dry lately and I need to see some action."

Oh, so that's how you chase a possible date off, huh? Throw Jeannie into the mix.

"Ah, I should go, but I have your number and the Smoothies are melting and Didi Freckles will suspect something if I don't get a move on. Walk me out?"

Oh, click, click, click, snap! That sounded absolutely wonderful. I mean, not the part that he was dating Didi Freckles because she a top-level Tranny, but a stroll through the parking lot sounded promising. And then his phone started to blow up and that was over, but I had an official T-Girl dating guy's phone number in my contact list and that was a good starting point. And then it seemed like I should delete his number because Jeannie simply refuses to quit.

"So, you met someone who knows how to date a T-Girl, huh? Sounds to me like that means that he also knows how to handle a T-Girl too! Like on the first date. Also, can you please capture it on video has he has you bent over as he pounds your tight virgin butt? That's the dream, right? You're ready for all that, right Cricket? I mean, he looks like he can go two or three times before he rolls over and falls asleep. Also, it's only a blow job when you take him inside of your mouth, not that pretend stuff you did last summer."

"Hey, you don't know!"

"Hey, I was peeking through the door! I've been a little dry for quite a while."

"Have you tried talking like a slut rather than a sailor who has been stranded at sea for two years?"

"Huh, I never thought of that, so no, I guess. Anyways, it sounds like you have two weeks to wait for your first real date and I suggest a party. A private party, like, oh, I don't know, maybe a St. Patrick's Day party for two. You can get all flashy in green and I'm sure Mei-Ling will come up with a holiday themed sweet treat for you."

"You suck, Jeannie!"

"And you're going to suck sooner or later, so what?"

"Click, click, click, click, click, click!"

"Ah, look at poor little Cricket, getting all turned on as she thinks about having her mouth ruined in two weeks. That's so cute. Also, huh, oh snap, I might be related to Kyle."

Well, that was enough excitement (and milk shakes) for the night and I called it a day. Of course, I went straight home and lurked all over Didi Freckles Chang homepage so I could figure out what was going on between her and Kyle. And because there is a T-Girl handbook, I knew the code and her message between the lines was that she found a keeper and the standard four weeks relationship was off the table. Well, we'll see about that, right?

Besides, I had an advantage now that Jeannie established that Kyle was her 7th cousin. I mean, all I had to do was to lure that loner guy who wanders around at night into the back alley at the same time that she took the trash out and boom, her dry spell would be over.

End Cricket 01