Sweet Sherri

"The fuck you want," the girl hissed through her teeth.

Well, it's hard to say. For one, this was the one night of the week at the particular club that was tranny night. Unless the lucky woman was either a straight freak or had been exposed to the scene, there weren't too many people walking around with a double dose of X chromosomes. Two, the girl hissed while staring between her legs with hooded eyes knew who she was. She had just finished a set dancing in the night club, showing off her 'surprise'. Of course, Stevie Wonder blindfolded could see the surprise, but the men who frequented this place weren't exactly looking for such unpredictability.

The omniscient Lord, combined with an interesting response to hormones and decent genes, had blessed her with a nice surprise, fitting a club like this. For one, she could hold her own with many a male pornstar, blessed with 10 inches of soda-can thickness between her legs that miraculously had skin as smooth as her honeyed caramel complexion. Her legs were athletic, boosted with some hormones and just a touch of Dow Corning's highest quality petrochemicals. Her boobs looked as realistic as what was between her legs, and were much more a product of the beginning of a two-week Percoset haze in Rio. She lifted the glass with her Mike's Hard lemonade in it, brushing away her long honey-blonde bangs from her eyes and asked "Who are you?"

"Oh, um, hi, I'm a big fan of yours and, um..."

"My dick right?" the girl said as she sat up in her couch, her attentions perked up by her admirer.

"Yeah. You've been doing this for a moment I take, right?"

"Yeah. What's it to you?"

"You know, a lot of the girls around here, ya know, do dates, and I was wondering..."

The girl ignored the fan between her legs, standing up in her 6 inch clear platform heels, and walked towards her dressing room.

"I take that as a no, right?"

The girl stuck her hand out in the general direction of the guy as she walked out, sticking her thumb up and flashing a sarcastic smile.

She strode into the room, walking over to her traditional vanity and putting her glass down. Around her was the typical mass of queens, transvestites and transsexuals that frequented the place, while the cacophony of loud house music and socializing enveloped the scene. She popped open her box of baby wipes and began her usual routine. Wiping off the thick and heavy makeup required for the bright lights of the club came first, then a fresh set of wipes to clean the sheen off of her boobs and her semi-hard dick.

"Hey Sherri!" her neighbor said to her. "Looks like another fan lost out huh?"

"Yeah, yeah, Mona girl. You know that ain't how I roll. I'm not exactly on food stamps with this."

"True. If I knew you didn't get pumped, I'd be getting you on Jenny Craig for them hips," Mona laughed. "But I know ya. You've been around long enough, and if you were going to do that, you've done it by now."

"Hey, I'm just grateful you put me on to this place. Ready for another night at the meat market?"

"Mmmhmm," Mona said as she shimmied into her tight dress on her heels before striking a pose. "And the tube steak is fresh tonight!"

"Three cheers for cultural stereotypes of Black male virility projected onto members of the transgendered community!"

"You and your damned college talk!" Mona said with a dismissive wave. "Though those stereotypes, along with some condoms, help pay my rent...and yours if you think about it."

"True." She flashed a smile and chuckle at Mona, then downed the rest of her hard lemonade. Sherri then fished her bag out from under her vanity and put on her non-work clothes, a black sportsbra and matching cheap Hanes boycut panties, a light blue sweatshirt, some fitting jeans capped off with a matching pair of mac-and-cheese boots and a tawny colored baseball cap. Making her way out of the side entrance, through the bustling crowd and onto the street, she looked like just another twenty-something trying to make it in the big city. Fishing her iPod and Metrocard out, she swiped into the 23rd Street station, then used the music to numb the pain of another long late night wait for the train. At least for her sake, the train ride promised to be short once her train arrived.

A half hour later, she fumbled out the keys to open up her two-bedroom walkup in Hell's Kitchen. All things considered, for a 21 year old now living as a woman, it wasn't too bad, considering the rent she paid with her roommate would hardly get her a studio close to her job. Apparently the low-dose estrogen she took didn't hit her brain hard enough, because for her obvious visage in a few of the pictures on the walls, it looked very much a guy's place. Random papers, a stack of college textbooks and an empty glass coated the table. "Great, that freakin' reminds me," Sherri muttered to herself. "I have to make it out to Queens at some point this weekend."

With an exhausted sigh, she tossed her baseball cap in the general direction of nothing and dropped her bag on the floor. She walked into her tiny bedroom, illuminated by an equally small lamp, then shucked her sweatshirt off. Her shoes and jeans followed in quick succession, along with her sports bra. A shiver when up through her nipples, just enough to tempt her into some manual relaxation with some of her porn collection. Alas, her exhaustion got the better of her, and an ungraceful tit-first collision with the bed beckoned, taking her off to sleep the sleep of the tried.

***

Magically, it seemed, Satan turned the fires up in Hell's Kitchen. Either that, or the sun light finally hit her eyes, causing her to rub the sleep out of them. She first reached for a bra, then, realizing it was out of reach, stumbled onto her feet to find something. Once she found a suitable white one to squeeze those silicone sacs under her skin into, she set about walking into the kitchen. Almost by feel, she walked into the kitchen, grabbed a glass, opened the fridge and poured herself a glass of orange juice.

"What's up?"

"Hey Stan," Sherri said as she walked over towards the living room. "Another fun all-nighter, eh?"

"Well, I won't have you to pay half of my rent forever. How was your night with the straights?"

"Straight to the dick as usual," Sherri said as she plopped down on a chair. "If I was in the blackmail business, I'd have enough cash to own the Yankees."

"Ya gotta admit you're a strange bird, even for what you do," Stan said over the mild squeak of highlighter dragging across the page. "You've spent a tidy five figures making yourself a lust object, yet you aren't even interested in the guys that come after you."

"Well, there's no law saying I gotta fuck them," Sherri said as her brain finally got up to waking speed. "Besides," as she sat up in her chair, "I'm the one who ultimately has to live with my body, and I think I did a decent remodeling job, right?"

"Looking like the porno whores you jerk off to all the time, fish!"

Sherri replied to her friend with a chuckle and a well-thrown pillow to the head. "I guess I do need to kill the volume on my computer during the week, huh?" she thought to herself. "So what's the agenda for today?"

"Well, bury myself in these books for a lot more, then head downtown to meet the next loser. Hey, a brother has needs, ya know?"

"True."

"I mean, how's this for a simple concept: I'm a guy who likes to fuck, well, guys. If I wanted femme wannabes, I'd be asking you to feed me the info for the new recruits at your various jobs."

"And you wonder why I don't date? Heck, and ya wonder why I'm still technically a virgin."

"We all know why, but I'm not going there right now. What's on your plate?"

"A trip to a collegiate library in the wilds of Queens, then, absolutely nothing for once. I know I do need to get my act together with school, but between the three nights a week, the modeling gigs and actually, well, studying, it's not exactly smooth."

"I feel ya, girl."

"Well, let me attempt to get going," Sherri said as she made it to her feet. "You thinking about bringing dude back here if all goes well?"

"Yeah, yeah, you know the drill."

"I know. The emergency text message rescue service will be on duty."

Sherri walked over to the fridge and picked out an apple. Rubbing it on her skin to warm it up, and bristling at the touch, she made her way back to her room and turned on her computer. After logging in, she fired up her browser and checked her email, looking to see if her agent had booked her for a photo shoot at some point or forwarded her some desperate piece of fan mail. Satisfied that work wasn't impending, or that one of her fans hadn't gone off the deep end as usual, she made her way over to one of her favorite BitTorrent porn sites.

"If they only knew what this web girl looked at in her spare time," she chuckled to herself.

First, she checked to see if there were any comments on the torrent posts with her pictures on them. It's not that she wanted to contact them per se. She just found it interesting that there was a dedicated bunch who fawned over her online, yet not only wouldn't notice her on the street but be horribly disappointed that she didn't want to shove her dick up their ass. After wrapping that up, she started browsing through the new stuff to see if there was anything worth downloading and stroking to.

"Hmmm...interracial," she said to herself as she toyed with herself in her pants. The remark that Stan made did sting a bit. That said, she knew she did the right thing...she thought. "Ah well, no time for subtleties," she thought to herself as she pulled her panties to the side and let her semi-hard flop down onto the chair. She double-clicked to start the latest porn oeuvre from Lexington Steele, while digging up a classic from her hard drive. Her dick hardening with anticipation, she leaned back and started pawing at her breasts, rubbing at her hardening nipples. As the vid slowly got into the action, she started twisting her hand around the head, wishing that her dick was the one on the screen. As soon as the little white starlet started caressing that soft looking tongue around the tip, she reached for her poorly hidden bottle of lube and splashed a puddle on her left hand before getting more into it. As she got into it, the hair on her skin stood on end, and her nipples were on fire. She reached up and pulled her tit out of her bra, pawing at her nipple roughly, getting the spare lube that slid off the bottle mottled over her caramel-tinged skin. Sherri tossed her hair back, getting into it as she started stroking harder to the slow, sensual blowjob she was looking at screen wishing it was her....

Suddenly, she bolted up, looking for her digital camera, looking through the junk of her room to get it. She slid under the bed, dragging her still-hard dick on the throw rug just hard enough to sting.

"Got it!"

She reached up, turned on the desk lamp and aimed in the general direction of the chair. She then spotted a perch on the top of the desk where she could place her camera, then set the timer on it. She hurried plopped back down on the chair, steeling her nerves just enough to get into the movie to get that blood flowing back into her nether regions again. She contemplated using her work, but she figured if she used that, people would think it was fake anyway. Anyway, she got back into the scene in front of her, where our Black Bastard was gently guiding his dick into yet another tiny White bimbo. "Damn, I could use some of that right now", she thought to herself, her dick rising back to life. Just as she felt it, she scrambled up to start the timer, then dropped back down. She kept her orientation while still getting into the movie when she saw the flash go off on the side of her vision.

"What the he...oh," Stan saw as he was about to barge in pissed, only to see his roomie half-nekkid with a camera perched on the desk. "Figured you couldn't use your work for what you're thinking."

"Eh, what the hell. It seems to work for some right?"

"Well," Stan continued, "mind as well get a few shots." He picked up the camera, moved a bit, and took a few more shots, one from the side, then one hovering directly over his roommate's shoulder. "I know it ain't your style, but have you considered giving your dick to the needy?"

"Well, maybe to those persecuted gays in Iran," Sherri said with a hearty belly-laugh. "Now skidaddle," she said as she popped her underwear back into place. "I need to see if there really is a market for hung college-kid transsexuals among chicks."

***

A nervous wreck now, she had dashed off a quick Craigslist ad, along with her new taken pictures. She did her ad like the ones she saw for the escorts she worked with because, well, it wasn't like she knew what she was doing with this. She asked for women, then, hoping that guys would notice the whole women only thing, she went off and took a shower, hoping that would wash away her nerves. After getting herself clean, she fished for a pair of track pants and a baggy shirt, then sat down to notice her new mail indicator had gone off in her absence.

"56 new messages? Wow!" she thought to herself. She was used to getting a bunch in one shot, thanks to her fan base with the modeling and the club stuff, but not after a shower. "Well, let's see who these winners are."

The first one she chose was typical of the "I'm straight, but let me suck your cock!" ones she got from her fans. The balance of them were a mix of the chasers she saw at work and those who were, for whatever reason, curious about her 'special' parts. Then she noticed this one email with a pic of some chick with blue-streaked hair. She deleted it in her haste, but managed to rescue it from the garbage folder.

"Well, not exactly my speed, but it can't be worst that Mr. 'Straight'," she said as she slicked back her moist hair. She looked a bit closer at the pic. With the lighting and exposure, it was obviously from some pic a friend had taken. She did have that blue hair, but at second glance it looked more frosted that streaked, and it was short yet feminine. While she was in at-least OK shape, she did have a firm pair poking at her wife-beater, with huge nips highlighting her breasts and an armband tattoo highlighting her guns. She scrolled up to read the email above the pic which said:

"Hey girl! Or should I say guy with what you have to offer. I dunno if you're real, or just some broad with a very nice strap-on, but I'm game. I'm 5'6", with a place with roomies in Billyburg. I think the pic explains the look. I would say I'm the adventurous so that probably explains this email...trisexual, if you got me. Anyway, just lemme see what you aave to offer. Send me an email with your number or something. The name's Cat."

Sherri dashed off a quick email with her name and number, and then practically bolted to her bed as if to no-sell the email. She found a book she needed to read for school, hurriedly thumbed through to the turned-down page she left off on and began half-reading, half-forgetting. She reached over to her highlighter, marked off the relevant parts and ended up in a study-induced haze, jarred out by the annoying ringtone of the week.

"Hello"

"Hey, um...is this the, um..."

"You can call me a shemale, but just this time," Sherri chuckled.

"Yeah, the one from that Craigslist ad?"

"Yours truly. What's up?"

"Hey, I like the pics. Who took them?"

"My roommate. He's good like that, especially when it comes to stuff like this. And who took yours, um..."

"Michelle. Same deal. I'm just looking for a good time on a Saturday afternoon, and apparently with someone out of the ordinary. By the way, is that all you?"

"Uh...I can't afford special effects. I'm but a poor college student who works as a go-go dancer on the side."

"Hey, I work in graphic design. Perhaps I can toss you some freebees, um..."

"Sherri. The name's Sherri."

"Thanks Sherri! Mmm...do you taste like your namesake?" Michelle purred. "Anyway, are you free around 4-ish?"

"Yeah, wassup? Besides, I have to head out of Manhattan anyway."

"I'll shoot you an email of this nice coffee-shop. Want to meet me out there?"

"Sure...sounds like a plan. See you soon!"

"You too! Bye."

Sherri mindlessly chucked the cellphone back on her nightstand, then stared off in to space for a bit. "Wow...a real live girl," she thought to herself. "Making up for wasted high-school days." She smiled to herself, checked the time on her cell phone, then set the alarm for 2. She picked up her books and plunged herself into studying, thinking if that everything went according to plan, she'd be a bit tuckered out for studying afterwards.

***

Sherri strode off the subway steps, her backpack straps chafing on her rose colored fitted t-shirt. While she realized that wearing no underwear could be a risky situation, the thought of the Duane-Reade bag rustling against her school books and how much she would need from that bag made her cream-colored capris more than a bit uncomfortable. She looked down at her Google Maps printout, then followed the directions while getting a feel for the neighborhood. While it didn't look much different from her neighborhood, the vibe was a bit livelier. She was eyeballing this one art gallery in particular when she came across the coffee shop. Immediately, she was able to spot Michelle from the outside. She looked a bit more outgoing and, dare I say, peppy than her photo, but that could be just explained by crappy lighting or something. Her sensitive skin betraying her nerves, she walked over to the blue-haired girl and introduced herself.

"Michelle?"

"Oh, hi, Sherri! Have a seat! Want to have something to drink?

"Uh, sure," Sherri said as Michelle waved the waiter over. "Coffee, light and sweet please?"

Sherri sat down and checked out the woman who, if all went according to plan, would make her a man. Or a woman. Or whatever...labels don't matter, right? She noticed the dark, pointy nipples making themselves visible through the wifebeater Michelle on, and those lips that reminded of those tiny lips she saw in all of those pornos...

"So you like what you see, huh?" Michelle said to break Sherri out of her reverie. "That's a good thing I guess. Kinda hard to get with someone who would rather read the paper than...fuck. So, how did someone born a boy end up with a Jessica Rabbit body?"

Sherri took a sip of the coffee cup placed in front of her, then answered, "Well, hormones and a whole lotta silicone. Especially the hips and ass. There's no way I could have done this naturally after puberty as a boy."

"Hmm, Sherri," Michelle said as she looked at the hips filling out the pants and licked her lips. "So...why did you choose me? I'm sure you've had your share of guys around you, right?"

"Well, I gotta confess a couple of things. For one, I only prefer women. The natural-born kind, ya know what I mean? The other is that, um, I'm a virgin. OK. Gee, that's weird to say that out loud."

"Really now? Sounds like I could teach you a few things there, babygirl!" Michelle slipped off her flip-flops and reached her feet under the table and between Sherri's legs. She rubbed the sole of her feet up and down on that tucked-in dick, her eyes bulging in surprise when she felt how big and real it was.

"OK," Michelle said as she pulled out a $10 bill to pay for everything and slipped her flip-flop back on. "Back to my place. I got to see you naked!"

Sherri sat still for a bit, then reached for her backpack as she got up. As she followed Michelle out of the coffee shop, she noticed that while she didn't have much of an ass on her, she did have some hips. Heck, overall, tight could definitely be used to describe her form. With numb hands and hot ears, she followed Michelle around the corner, then up the 4 flights of stairs to her small 1 bedroom apartment. As she walked in the door, she closed the door behind her and stood there, looking at Michelle confidently look her up and down, hands on her hips.