Patricia

And then he remembered the whole Ajita thing. Ajita Wilson had been one of the first women he'd seen in a men's magazine naked; she had fired up his teenage balls, and he had not been happy when he found out she had died young. He had not, however, been nauseated when he learned that she had been born a man. A sign of how he'd turn out?

Victor had had to keep secret all his fantasies, not just the ones about T-girls, but he regretted not clubbing Nick Nelson for always calling them "it." Not "she" or even "he," but "it." There was nothing inhuman about Patricia, and as he sucked her inches hungrily he knew it. Long, slim and rock-hard, Patricia's cock was heaven in his mouth; Victor moved his hands along Patricia's firm, soft butt eagerly, listening to her crying out Portugeuse dirty talk as he started to slip his middle fingers into her asshole. Aaaaaaaahhhhh... Victor couldn't wait to replace the fingers with other parts of his body.

Patricia slapped his shoulders, and Victor reluctantly pulled back from her prick. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," Patricia replied with a smile. "I just don't like to fuck with one guy still dressed."

Victor hurriedly undressed as she watched, hoping she wasn't going to be too nauseated at what she saw. "Nice," she said as he stood there naked. "Now come here..." and she opened her arms to him, holding him tight as he came forward, and the two kissed for the first time. Patricia's hands rubbed Victor's naked body; he wasn't exactly ripped, but he wasn't grotesque either. She liked how he felt in his arms, big and well-packed. She rested her hands on his butt, and gave it a good clench as Victor nuzzled her breasts, feeling his crotch on hers. The two fell onto the bed, kissing and fondling each other.

"Don't tell me that's the first time you've ever..." Patricia's voice dissolved into happy laughter as Victor took her cock in hand and began to stroke it, lightly pulling the long, lean pole with one hand while rubbing it with the other. Patricia watched her friend and lover playing with it, kissing her over and over as he fingered the prick. Not wanting to be left out, Patricia hefted Victor's own baton in her hands, smiling as she felt it grow and harden. She began to stroke the man's penis, pulling back and forth firmly but carefully, listening to Victor's little "ugh"s and "uhhh"s as she fondled it.

Studying him, Patricia gradually increased the pace, stretching her fingers out to dandle his balls. Victor had already sped up, wishing that he could put her prick in his mouth again; he could see that she was starting to get really excited, listen to her breath speeding up, and watch her body start to shake excitedly as her cock started to respond. But so was his... Victor felt Patricia's fingers on his sacs as he played with hers, their grunts mixing as each one tried to get the other to come first... but Patricia had such an edge. Such a sweet, exciting edge... Then Victor imagined Patricia spreading her asscheeks for him and pointing to the hole between, and then it happened.

Clutching the prick tightly, Patricia pulled and gasped as she felt Victor's come firing out, shooting directly onto the tip of her own prick. She jerked him again, and again, as Victor rubbed her come-covered prick, before the two rubbed their pricks together, their hands on each other's arms. This was a nice way to start an affair...

"You have to understand that my family's very close. Very strict," Patricia told Victor, as the latter had his head on the former's ass, running his hand along the cheeks and kissing them. "They were well off, and I had plenty of money of my own - otherwise I'd never have been able to afford them..."

Victor knew what "them" meant.

"... but they didn't really understand who I was. Even after I tried to explain - they just said it was a phase."

"Guess you finally convinced them."

"I didn't tell them - I told them I was going to Sao Paulo; to university. Actually, I was... but I found I was heading down a different path. I found out that I could make more money with what I already had..." Patricia didn't elaborate, but Victor could guess. "But my parents found out after my first magazine shoot - I wasn't even on the cover then - and my father swore that he'd cut it off if I ever came back."

"And that's why you left the country..."

"No," Patricia replied. "At the time I was seeing this guy; I was really interested in him, but I was afraid to tell him the truth. I blame Natasha... she's this ladyboy I used to know, she believed in being straight with everyone, and she told me to be upfront with him."

"So what happened with the guy?" Victor asked as he nuzzled up her back.

Patricia turned over and pointed to the scar on her right breast. "That was the only one the surgeons couldn't hide completely," she said quietly, her voice almost level. "The police never got him."

"Oh fuck... oh Jeez... " Victor couldn't say anything. No wonder Patricia kept it a secret; with people like that around... yet she was staying the way she was, rather than take the easy way out.

"I wasn't sure about you at first," Patricia continued. "I thought - "

"Patricia, this is like a dream come true for me," Victor told her.

"You're not the first person who's said that to me."

"I'm not telling a soul about you..."

"You're not the first person who's said that either," Patricia replied, and then she kissed him. "But you ARE the first person who's said that who I believe."

They kissed again, Victor with his hands on her chest. "You know, this is really the best way to go," she said lightly. "You don't have to worry about knocking me up."

"Yeah, I'd be a terrible father," Victor admitted, stroking her unbelievable skin. "I bet you'd be a good mother..."

"Yeah, right," Patricia laughed. "I'd be too busy swallowing that monster you've got down there..." She took hold of it again, and slid down his body, Victor feeling her flowing black hair moving along him as it trailed after her. "I know you don't remember Friday night. So here's a repeat performance..."

Patricia licked Victor's shaft from balls to tip, loving how it looked and tasted. Then she rolled her tongue over the top of his cock, drawing it into her mouth. Victor found his heart beating so quickly he almost feared he'd have a seizure; Patricia was an expert at this, lightly breathing on the prick as she sucked teasingly and passionately, sometimes opening her mouth wide enough to take in his balls as well. She had been waiting to do this again for a long time, he could tell. Victor started breathing harder, wanting to fill her up but not wanting that to happen for a long, long time. She was the perfect woman; all feminine-looking but with a magnificient cock as a bonus. She could treat you like a woman and take it as one... no wonder there were guys hot for women like her. No wonder HE was hot for her.

But feeling Patricia's soft lips eating his meat, Victor knew that he would have adored her even if she didn't have several hot inches between her legs. And feeling Patricia's fingers pumping him, Victor knew the best way he could show his appreciation... "Patricia..." he gasped.

"Mmmm?"

"I don't want to come in your mouth..." he panted, feeling his cock in danger of shooting down her throat.

"I know," she smiled as she let his aching prick out of her hot mouth. "I was just moistening you up."

"For what?"

"What do you think?" she answered, rolling off Victor onto her back. He rapidly mounted her, taking her by the thighs and lifting her legs; Victor could see her tender little asshole there, open and waiting. With her sweet little face silently beckoning him, he positioned himself and, swallowing nervously, started to push his damp cock inside Patricia.

Her eyes and mouth gaped as she felt him sliding up her, while Victor found himself trembling. Patricia's asshole was so tight around his prick as he pumped, and he couldn't help but look at her hard cock slapping against herself as they thrusted in harmony, her legs up in the air and him stroking them, partly to get a grip but mostly because they felt so nice. Then he got another look into her eyes, and forgot about what she had between her legs. Victor slid deeper into her as Patricia fondled his body, urging him on in Portuguese - "Go on Victor," she begged, "fuck me... fuck me harder... do it Victor! DO IT HARDER!!!"

Victor was more than happy to oblige, gripping the lovely woman ever tighter and slapping himself against what he could touch of her meaty cheeks, and grunting out loud as he felt his balls actually touching her butt. Pushing deeper and going in and out excitedly, he gasped "Oh Patricia... fuck I've been wanting this for so long... SHIT you're great... oh fuck Patricia... PATRICIA MACHADO YOU ARE SOOO HOTTTT..."

"Ahhhh... uuuuuhhhh.... OHHHHGODDDDDDD!!!" screamed Patricia as she clawed at the bedsheets and at her lover, begging and yelling at Victor to fill her ass up with his come... "FILL IT NOW!!!" Victor bucked between her legs stronger than he ever had before, slamming his cock inside her butt and praying that he could give her what she deserved - and cried out in happiness as he felt his prick pumping floods of creamy come deep into her asshole. She had got it.

Repeated calling out Patricia's name, Victor came and came and came, blissfully unaware that their mutual friend was watching; Michael had entered the flat some time before, and had heard the noises from the bedroom. Other men would have taken this as a cue to discreetly leave - Michael was not like other men. Besides, he knew Victor had caught him with a friend once; he figured he could peek at his friend getting lucky once. That in mind, Michael had peered through the keyhole, and found a reenactment of the train scene from "Fair Game," with Victor as Billy Baldwin (complete with bare butt) and... THAT LUCKY BASTARD! Patricia Machado was Cindy Crawford! How the hell did he do that?

Michael watched as Victor came inside the foxy Brazilian, and watched as he relaxed with a sigh. Then Michael stepped aside, jealous as all hell but knowing that it would be best if he pretended to have just gotten in; he didn't need this on his rap sheet. The man scuttled back towards the door as the bedroom door opened, and Victor came out - Patricia had suggested that she return the favour and asked him for something like Vaseline or that ilk to make it easier. Unfortunately for all, it was in the bathroom.

Unfortunately because Michael hadn't left the room when Victor came out. And even more unfortunately because Michael could see Patricia in the bedroom, standing there stark naked. "Oh hi, Mike..." said Victor a bit nervously, and wondered why he hadn't said anything.

Then he saw the expression on Michael's face - he didn't need to say anything. Victor's friend had seen enough; he backed away horrified, and ran out of the room.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Mike..."

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!? Why couldn't you do some Ecstasy like normal people?"

"Mike, she can hear you..." Victor said over the phone. It was true; an alarmed Mike had been tracked down at home, but he had been so freaked out that he was screaming down the phone.

"You were sleeping with a girlie-boy?! A transvestite?!"

"TransSEXUAL, Mike. A TV likes dressing up as a woman; a transsexual IS a woman."

"A para-woman, yeah..."

"A what?"

"You know how a paralegal's someone who isn't really a lawyer? Well, girls like Patty aren't really girls."

"But you admit she's a girl? Now you know. And knowing is half the battle," Victor added with a smile as Patricia mouthed "G.I. Joe against Cobra and Destro." (Gorgeous, likeable AND knew cartoons. YES!)

"Look, if you can't handle it that's fine. But I have to admit I'm kind of disappointed - "

"But it's not like..." Mike was fighting to find the right words.

"It's not like the time I slept over at your place?" Victor finished gently.

Patricia lived up to one feminine stereotype by scuttling over to where Victor was sitting; she sensed something gossip-worthy was in the air. She beckoned him to go on as she listened in, and Victor shook his head in amusement as Mike stayed silent, finally sighing.

"That time I knew what I was getting into," he said softly. "You didn't hide it."

"No, you did all the hiding," Victor added. "You still are. I haven't seen you boasting about the last night of summer camp that year."

"Like YOU have," Mike pointed out, fondly gazing back to that year they were both 18...

...and arguing even then. Even though it was lights out time, neither of them was ready to sleep just yet; they had too much stuff on their minds. Like having a discussion with the aid of a torch about which one of them had stiffed the other when it came time for their duties; they both insisted it was the other. Deep down, they both wished the other would just say "Forget it, let's just go to sleep" but the hushed-up argument just went on and on and on.

"It was you," Mike hissed.

"I don't cheat on my stuff," Victor parried for the umpteenth time. "It could have been one of the others."

"Yeah, right... you always work with me. You may have a sweet ass but that doesn't mean you can - "

"What did you say?" Victor interrupted.

"I said you can't go around stiffing me on camp chores..." Mike started.

"No, no, no. The other bit," his friend said, in a softer voice.

Michael wished they could go back to arguing; the bit he had let slip out there wasn't something he had wanted to tell his friend. His diaries, yes; his deepest dreams, yes; but the actual person, never. Thankfully they were alone in their cabin, and even more thankfully the lights were out. "You tell anyone about this and I'll deny it," he told Victor nervously. "You know Mr. Kirby?"

"The janitor?"

"Yeah. The guy who's got a whole load of gay porn mags in his shed - "

"Nosy."

"It's my nature. Anyway, I saw him looking at you a couple of days ago and he said something about wanting to eat you up right there... and I saw you there, and you were bending over to get something. And... and I got a hardon."

"From me?" Victor asked, embarrassed... and flattered.

"I'm not gay or anything," Michael said hastily. "I'm not, honest. But I did think that... that if you were... that I wouldn't mind..."

"If we're going around being honest, then I'll tell you something," his friend told him, their argument now forgotten. "You can touch it." Victor turned over in bed, facing away from Mike. "Go on. I don't mind. I... I've actually kind of hoped it might happen."

Michael let the torch beam run down his friend's bare back, before he reached out and put his fingers in the band of Victor's pyjama pants, pulling them down. He mentally tortured himself, telling himself his best friend did NOT have yummy thighs, and that his friend did not have a beautiful round ass. He didn't, he didn't, he... did. Mike rested his hands on Victor's buns, telling himself that this was a one-time only thing...

Just like that time after they had been at the beach with friends had been a one-time thing. And that night Mike had spent over at Victor's had been a one-time thing. And the day Victor had watched the "Charmed" marathon with Mike had been a one-time thing. That last had been just a few weeks ago, before this whole night school thing had started.

If there was ever a woman whose ass Mike would have sold his family into slavery for a chance to tap, it was Rose McGowan. In several of the liasions between him and Victor, Mike had pretended it was Rose's lips on his mouth instead of Victor's; he had told himself that it was Rose swallowing his nine inches instead of Victor; he had even tried to visualise Rose McGowan slipping on a strap-on and pushing it up his back door instead of Victor's own very real penis. And now, as the Halliwells did their thing on the TV in front of him, Mike lay back on the sofa, naked and moaning, as his friend happily sucked away on his cock.

Mike was SO glad that it was a Shannen Doherty-heavy episode; he could concentrate on who was between his legs, happily consuming his prick as eagerly as that first time. Mike hadn't expected Victor would have been so happy to feel a cock up his butt; but he was even more surprised to find that more and more, he had found himself not having to replace his friend with Rose. Mike gazed down on his naked, grinding friend, waiting for the moment when he could give him a mouthful of creamy, yummy come, and waiting for when it would be his turn to taste Victor's juicy cock...

"Mike?"

What the FUCK had happened to Victor's voice? It was higher and he had a South American accent - oh yeah, it was Patricia on the line now. That journey down memory lane had been farther than he had thought.

"Victor asked me to talk to you about this. Never send a man to do a woman's job, right?" she laughed. "You're worried that you might be gay and don't know it, right?"

Mike didn't know what to say.

"Some people, you can tell they're gay from the moment you see them; some people aren't. You and Victor aren't, so relax, okay?"

"But Vic-"

"You know, just because you like sucking cocks doesn't mean you're gay. You see so many movie stars who hang around women all the time, doing a really great job of being straight, and all the time they'd rather be with guys. And look at all those women who have to kiss other women - Winona Ryder's done it in movies and TV and no one thinks she's a lesbian. And what about hookers? Some of them have to sleep with women - okay, or with guys if they're male - and it doesn't mean they're gay, they're just doing their job. All this means is that you get turned on by guys and girls. You get the best of both worlds, Mikey - roll with it!"

"Ummmm... can you put Victor back on?"

"Sure," Patricia said, and gave the phone back to Victor, who listened, and laughed. "Yes, yes she is... just deal with it, okay? Okay, see you later," and he hung up, still chuckling.

"Can you believe that guy?" Victor asked, beckoning Patricia to come into his arms. "He wanted to know if you were better at head than he was..."

* * * * * * * * *

Croft liked to think of himself as an equal opportunity kind of guy; he could whack off to a skinny chick as easily as to someone with boobs the size of the Hindenburg. Today, he was in the mood for someone with the latter; he (badly) sang that song about how fat bottomed girls made his rocking world go round as he strolled into the adult entertainment emporium of his choice, waving to the man behind the counter, who greeted one of his most loyal customers in return. Croft had almost wept when he’d heard that Miriam Gonzalez wasn’t doing nude shots anymore; the weight gain he could take, but the clothes were a real loss. Never mind, there was always good old Chloe V or that fucking amazing Kraut Nadine Jansen or...

What the fuck was THAT?!? Croft had to do a double-take at the foreign language DVD he had just passed. Nah, it couldn’t be.

No; he picked up the box and studied it. It wasn’t a mistake. Croft set it down as if he had found out you could get syphilis just by touching the stuff.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Just wondering if you’ve seen any good movies lately," Croft said to Patricia amiably as the class broke up, and after Victor had bid her farewell. "Ever seen any by Joey Silvera?"

It was the momentary pause that told Croft he had been right. Just a brief one; if Croft hadn’t been suspicious already he would have figured she had no idea who he was. Instead she paused before saying "Who?" Not "No," just "Who?"

"Hey, Patty, come on," Croft said.

"Only my friends call me Patty," Patricia replied tersely as she walked out, the guy still after her, hanging on like a bad telemarketer.