Little Big Man

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Had I really said that? Wow!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I got up and walked over to the bar.

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

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

"A job?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Harlot!" exclaimed number four.

I must have looked startled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I heard big Jack's voice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hold on Missy" called out Charlie.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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