Peals Of Midnight

*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

*Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.

Also, if male bisexuality offends you, please hit the backspace now.

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J.M. Finney High School. Billingsly, Kansas. Bridget Bishop; first witch hanged at Salem Witch Trials. Ann Putnam, Jr. One of her accusers. Kevin Putnam is last in line and since he is gay, there will be no more from this particular lineage.

Shelton McIntire and Kevin Putnam sat in the secretary's office, waiting to see Principal Adams. With each breath, Shelton winced or grunted; he was sure he had sustained at least two broken ribs.

Next to him, Kevin held the ice pack to his left eye. Glumly, the two eighteen year old boys waited for the principal to finish whatever menial task he supposedly was engrossed in before summoning the two boys into his domain.

"And you know they won't do shit to Tommy," Kevin muttered.

"Or Bobby," Shelton wheezed, trying to talk without sucking in too much air.

"Seriously? You seriously want to go to Allison's stupid Halloween Party?" Kevin again asked his best, his only friend.

"What'd we do last Halloween? Or the one before that?" Shelton asked.

"Watched the whole Halloween franchise," Kevin said. "I still have nightmares over that stuff."

"Scaredy cat," Shelton teased, then winced in agony as his chuckle caused intense waves of pain to shoot from his side throughout his body.

Just as Kevin and Shelton had surmised, no action was taken against Bobby Jones or Tommy Rice. Principal Michael Adams magnanimously decided against giving Kevin Putnam or Shelton McIntire detentions for their part in the altercation with the two football players.

"Thanks. That is just oh so generous of you," Kevin spat.

"But I will give you one for that smart mouth of yours," the pompous man spat in reply.

Shelton McIntire groaned and gasped, getting to his feet. He caught the toe of his size fourteen tennis shoe on the corner leg of Principal Adams' desk and cried out as the act of catching himself caused intense, blinding pain in his bruised ribs. Kevin shot the older man a withering glare; it was obvious that the two bullies had injured the two unpopular students. Yet there would be no consequences for either of the two athletes.

Kevin and Shelton made an odd looking pair. Shelton was six feet four inches and Kevin was five feet, four inches. Both young men were slender, verging on scrawny.

Shelton had thick brown hair that threatened to burst into curls and Kevin had fine blonde hair framing his cute, almost pretty face. Shelton and Kevin also vied with one another for valedictorian of the high school.

Shelton was a clumsy lurching figure of a man and Kevin was a graceful, lithe figure as they walked to their next class.

After serving his detention, Kevin went out to his mini cooper. Once again, someone had slashed three of his tires. And, even though he parked in front of one of the numerous security cameras, Kevin knew there would be no footage of the intentional vandalism.

"Seriously? You seriously want to go to Allison's damned party?" Kevin screeched when Shelton answered his phone. "Look! Look at what they did to my car!"

"I'm going. You don't have to," Shelton said.

"Well, this time? This time I'm picking our costumes. Last year you picked those stupid Big Bang Theory asshole costumes," Kevin snapped, nodding as the Triple a roadside assistance vehicle pulled up behind his car.

"What? Sheldon and Lenerd; it was perfect," Shelton declared.

"It was stupid. I looked stupid," Kevin said and ended the call.

Rather than driving home, Kevin drove to Falwell City, Oklahoma. He smiled as the manager of the first consignment shop greeted him. The woman clucked over Kevin's newly acquired black eye, then returned her attention to the customer that wanted to haggle over the price of a grand piano.

"Sir! Five hundred? That's an insult," the woman said, truly offended at the boorish man's offer.

"This piano's been in here what? It's been here at least six, seven months?" the man argued.

Kevin paused in looking at some clothing and walked over to the piano. He flipped the lid up and began to play a beautiful Mendelson composition. He then played a Chopin piece. After a Haydn piece, he put the lid down and returned to the rack of clothing.

"Fine. Fine. Do you deliver?" the man conceded when the woman agreed to take two hundred dollars off of the asking price.

"Kevin I, I didn't know you could play. Have you had many lessons?" the manager asked as Kevin texted Shelton to get Shelton's measurements.

"Had about a year of lessons; my mother made me stop when she caught me and my piano teacher kissing each other," Kevin said and checked the black pinstripe's measurements.

"Oh?" the woman teased. "Was she cute?"

"Arnie was simply gorgeous; I fell in love with him the first minute I saw him," Kevin admitted, setting aside the large pinstripe suit.

"Now, Kevin, what, what are you going to do with that?" the woman tittered when Kevin placed a 32D bra on the counter along with his other selections.

"The same thing I told my PE Coach to do," Kevin smirked. "Stuff it."

"Oh. OH! Big Bang was stupid, but this isn't?" Shelton complained eight days later as Kevin helped him into his suit.

"There was a famous bank robber in the nineteen thirties; Machine Gun Kelly. Well? You're Machine Gun Shelly. And I'm your moll," Kevin explained, for the one hundredth time as he tied the impossibly fat black and white tie around Shelton's neck. "And quit playing with your hair; it took me forever to get that mop to behave."

"My what?" Shelton asked, picking up the plastic Tommy gun.

"Moll. Dame. Broad. No self-respecting gangster would be without his good-time floozy on his arm, helping him spend his ill-gotten gains," Kevin explained, checking that the two pink balloons gave him just the right amount of cleavage. "God, I love this hat. It's a Chanel; I couldn't believe it when I found it."

"We don't get beat up enough," Shelton complained as they left his bedroom. "You're going to make sure they really beat the shit out of us."

"Yes. If we tell them I'm Kevin," Kevin admitted, pulling the red hair of the wig to dangle just so over his left eye. "Are the seams straight?"

"Are the what?" Shelton asked.

"The seams. The seams of my stockings. Are they straight?" Kevin asked, pausing so that Shelton could look at his freshly waxed legs. "And leave your hair alone."

"Yeah," Shelton said, now putting on his fedora.

"You didn't even look," Kevin accused. "And, yes, we'll get beat up. Jesus, I'll probably get killed if we tell them I'm Kevin. But, if we tell them I'm um. Moll. Moll. Molly, um, Molly Dillinger? From hmm, Falwell City, then, no, no we won't get beat up. Most likely? They'll all be jealous of you."

"Kevin, come on. You can't really think no one will be able to tell that it's you," Shelton said, opening the driver's door of his Chevy pickup truck. "Just one look at you..."

Kevin pointedly waited, standing outside of the passenger door of the pickup truck. Shelton reached over and showed Kevin that the door was unlocked. Kevin ignored him, looking pointedly away.

"What?" Shelton yelled, opening the passenger door from inside of the truck.

"A gentleman opens the door for a lady," Kevin said.

"It's open. Get in," Shelton demanded.

They pulled up to the already quite crowded street. Finding a parking space that was not blocking a driveway took them nearly two blocks away. Shelton got out and started walking toward Allison Daniels' house. He was twenty feet away from his truck when he realized Kevin was not with him. Hitting the key fob, he watched his truck. Kevin continued to sit, primly waiting.

"What? Kevin, I swear to God..." Shelton snarled, yanking the passenger door open.

"My name is Molly Dillinger, you rude man," Kevin snapped, slapping the forgotten Tommy gun into Shelton's hand.

"What's my name?" Kevin asked as they turned the corner onto Allison Daniels' street.

"Kev...Molly um, Dillinger," Shelton said. "Aw, come on, you're not going to hold on to me like that, huh?"

"I'm your moll," Kevin reminded him.

"Look, dude, I know you're gay," Shelton hissed. "And I don't got a problem with that, but..."

"You know, when I was trying all this stuff on? I think, I think I had an epiphany, an awakening of sorts," Kevin confessed. "This? I think this is me."

"You think being a moll is..." Shelton said.

"I think being a Molly is me, is the real me," Kevin admitted.

"Oh," Shelton said.

"Now. What's my name?" Kevin asked as they approached the Daniels' home.

"Molly Dillinger," Shelton said. "But the minute one of them recognizes you? You are on your own, you hear me?"

"Mm, well," Kevin said.

Allison answered the door and her eyes showed her contempt for Shelton McIntire. Her eyes swept to the gorgeous red head to Shelton's left and she did a double-take.

"Hi!" Kevin chirped brightly. "This is Machine Gun Shelly and I'm his dame, his broad, his gal. I'm Molly Dillinger and you must be Allison Daniels. Thank you so much for inviting us to your party."

"I uh, yeah, yeah, hi. Molly, Molly Dillinger? Any relation to..." Allison said, adjusting her cat ears headband.

"As near as we can figure I would be like his great-great-great-great niece or something like that," Kevin smiled.

Allison pulled Molly into the kitchen to introduce her to the other girls. Shelton sweated bullets, waiting for the inevitable screams and recriminations when Kevin's true identity was discovered.

"What are you supposed to be?" Bobby Jones sneered, his ill-fitting pirate's costume looking ridiculous.

"Machine Gun Shelly," Shelton explained.

"Yeah? Looks stupid," Tommy sneered.

"Shut up; I think it's pretty awesome," Angela Wasserman declared. "So, Shelton? Where'd you meet Molly? She's cute."

"That red head? She, she came? With you?" Bobby sneered, surprised.

"He's a gangster and she's his girl," Angela explained, adjusting her witch's hat.

"Stupid," Bobby declared. "Well, Shelly, she might have come with you, but dude? She ain't leaving with you."

"Oh? And who's she leaving with?" Angela demanded, thrusting her sizable chest into Bobby's belly. "It had better not be you."

"Shelton. Where's Kevin? I wanted him here to play the piano," Allison said, clutching onto Molly's hand as they returned to the large living room.

"Uh, yeah, so uh, where, where's your boyfriend?" Bobby taunted, looking around for Kevin.

"Probably making out with your boyfriend," Shelton snapped back, already regretting his insistence that they come to this party.

"Oh? Piano? I um, I can play a little bit," Molly said, looking around for the piano.

Here, in here," Allison said, flinging the doors of the large den open.

"Mm, it's lovely," Molly said, sitting on the padded bench. "Yamaha does make a fine instrument."

Molly began playing. After a moment, someone recognized the melody of a country song and began to sing along with Molly's playing. When Molly smiled encouragement at the young man, he blushed hotly but continued singing.

"Very good; you have a lovely voice. Let's see; do you know..." Molly asked and began playing another current hit.

"So, Molly, do you play by ear?" Allison asked, sitting on the bench and placing her hand on Molly's upper thigh.

"Oh, I tried," Molly said, pointedly ignoring the far too familiar touch of their hostess. "But after a while I figured it would be easier to just use my fingers."

After forty minutes of playing a mix of classical and contemporary music, Molly took a break. Someone turned on Allison's father'svintage stereo system and a local radio station came booming and thudding out of the large cabinet speakers.

"Sweetheart, please get me something to drink," Molly asked/told Shelton.

"Oh, what you want?" Allison offered.

"I think my boyfriend should get off his fine ass, walk his fine ass into the kitchen, and get his woman a diet coke," Molly said tightly.

"Diet...you hate diet drinks," Shelton declared.

"Do you know how hard it was to zip this skirt up?" Molly stated. "This girl is going on a diet and it starts right now."

"Here you go; there's also some um, I'm not sure what this other stuff is," Shelton said, returning with a plastic cup and a small plate.

"Kale; you bake it until it's crispy," Allison supplied, then returned to the kitchen when someone called her name.

"She is driving me crazy," Molly whispered into Shelton's ear. "I swear, I think she's a dyke or something. She has had her hands all over me since we got here."

"Seriously? You, you sure?" Shelton asked, clearly disappointed with this revelation.

"Hey, uh, Machine Gun, if you ain't going to dance with your girlfriend, you mind if I do?" Stuart Myers, one of the football players asked.

"Do you mind?" Molly asked, looking up into Shelton's handsome face.

"Save the slow dances for me," Shelton smiled and Molly returned his smile.

"Dude, what? That, that's Kevin, you dumb ass," Shelton muttered when he thought about what he'd just said.

Someone found Allison's parents' cache of booze and soon the high school students were drunkenly swaying against one another, or were sitting on the comfortable furniture, making out. Molly and Shelton each enjoyed a few drinks, then Shelton found himself on one of the couches, actively kissing Molly.

"Mother fucker!" Shelton suddenly realized he was kissing Kevin Putnam, not a beautiful red headed Molly Dillinger.

"Relax! Just go with it," Molly hissed into his ear.

Molly was coerced into playing the piano again. A few moments into her second song, though, someone rudely turned the stereo back on. Molly found Shelton sitting on one of the velour covered wingback chairs and plopped herself onto his lap.

"Oh, baby," she said in a Mae West imitation. "That a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

"Dude!" Shelton hissed, highly embarrassed that the feeling of Kevin's tight backside rubbing against his crotch had resulted in an erection.

"God damn, that is...well, I guess it is true what they say about men with big feet," Molly giggled, planting a passionate kiss on Shelton's lips.

"What? What the fuck is going on...ALLISON! Allison Elizabeth Daniels! Get your ass, get these people out of my house. Right now!" they heard an enraged male call out from the vicinity of the kitchen.

"Daddy!" Allison squealed, horrified.

Like cockroaches, the teenagers scattered. Shelton and Molly held hands as they scampered out the front door. They both chuckled as they watched Bobby trying to stuff his fully engorged cock into his far too snug pirate's trousers while Patricia tried to wiggle into her bra and pull her pantyhose up at the same time. Angela's bare ass flashed into view when she tripped over a drunk Stuart Myers. Her witch's hat flew off and landed in the darkness.

"Slow down," Molly demanded. "These heels are not made for running."

"Where did we...we're parked, um..." Shelton tried to remember where they were parked.

"That way; remember? We passed that house with the mannequins in the front yard," Kevin said, pointing.

"Hmm? Oh, oh yeah," Shelton agreed, looking toward the decorated house.

"That, is that Angela's hat?" Kevin asked, seeing a black witch's hat lying on a lawn.

"Kind of big to be..." Shelton said doubtfully.

Kevin reached down to pick it up. Just as his hand came in contact with it, a sudden gust of cool October air blew it just out of reach.

Both Kevin and Shelton squealed out loud when the hat suddenly rose up. A haggard looking witch appeared before their eyes, malicious grin on her wrinkled pale face. Her nose was hooked with an ugly wart on the end and the smell emanating from her was the smell of mothballs, moldy clothing and raw sewage. Her hair was a mixture of dull black and drab gray and looked like it had not been washed or combed in years. Her grin was missing several teeth and what teeth she did have were mottled in color.

She pointed a gnarled finger at Kevin, dark eyes glittering bitterly. Kevin shrank back from her outstretched hand.

"Eb llahs ti os, ti uoy hsiw sa," the witch cackled, then vanished in a cloud of black smoke.

Kevin looked around, startled. One moment, the quite realistic witch had been standing in front of them, illuminated by a street lamp. Then, after saying her odd sounding words, she'd vanished into black smoke. The cloud of smoke dissipated rapidly.

"Did you, what? Where, where'd she go?" Kevin asked Shelton.

They both looked up as the Billingsly Baptist Church's clock struck the first chime of midnight. They looked at each other in amazement. The clock had not sounded in nine or ten years; a fire had welded the mechanism together. Insurance had barely been sufficient to repair the church building itself but there'd been no money left afterward to repair the clock.

"Eb llahs ti os..." Kevin muttered, trying to make sense out of the woman's odd words.

"What? What song is that from?" Shelton asked.

"Huh? That, that's what that witch said," Kevin said.

"Witch? Oh! Oh, you mean Angela?" Shelton asked. "Damn! She, she was about to just fall out of that costume, I tell you."

"No, no, that, that witch. Shelton. She was right there," Kevin pointed his brightly polished fingernail where the witch had been standing.

"You feeling all right?" Shelton asked as the clock struck the last chime of midnight.

Arriving at Shelton's house, the two wearily climbed the stairs. Giving his reflection one last longing look, Kevin sighed and removed her hat, then the lustrous red wig.

"I, I can't believe no one recognized you," Shelton chuckled, working the fat Windsor knot of his tie loose.

Kevin put the wig on again. He examined the gorgeous red head that looked back at him from Shelton's mirror.

"I, I just wish..." Kevin murmured, closing his eyes for a long moment.

Turning, Kevin looked at his best friend. Despite being scrawny and uncoordinated, Shelton was a handsome young man. Especially with his hair styled, lacquered into place.

"I, can I ask you for a really big favor?" Kevin whispered.

"Yeah, sure," Shelton agreed, hanging the suit jacket on the wooden hanger Kevin had supplied with the suit.

Kevin knew he was taking advantage of his friend, his only friend. Shelton had drank quite a bit at the party. Kevin had to drive the truck home because of Shelton's inebriated state. He hoped Shelton was drunk enough to acquiesce.

"I, can I, can I suck your cock?" Kevin whispered, on the verge of tears as he waited for the rejection that was sure to come.

"I uh, dude, I, you, you know I, I'm not gay," Shelton stammered, one leg already out of his trousers.

"I, I know," Kevin sniffled. "It's just, I mean... Dancing, dancing with you and we kissed and..."

"You, uh, you tell anyone, I'll kick your ass, hear?" Shelton barked.

"I, I won't. I would never tell anyone," Kevin giggled happily.

"Leave the wig on," Shelton demanded and he turned off the overhead light.

"Well, of course, Kevin said, wiggling out of his sweater blouse and pencil skirt.

Along with the wig, Kevin wore his bra and silk panties, garter belt and stockings and four inch stiletto heels. Crawling onto the bed, he happily peeled Shelton's boxers down, freeing Shelton's fat cock and heavy balls.

"It, oh, oh my God, it really is true," Kevin goggled as he gripped Shelton's immense girth in his small hand.

Kevin gave the hard, throbbing meat a few strokes, then reached out his tongue and licked all around the plum shaped head. Shelton's manly scent reached Kevin's nostrils and the taste of Shelton's excitement, as well as sweat and soap titillated Kevin's tongue.