When Lightning Strikes

Abby had made sure I not only had a suit, but that I had the suit, a skimpy pink and white thong bikini. Smiling to myself, I dug it out of my drawer and slipped it on. It covered my forms and my stuff, but not much else, and elicited exactly the 'holy shit' response I was hoping to get from Pete.

"You are so not playing fair, touching yourself like that in the bathroom and wearing that. Do you really expect me to behave if you keep tormenting me like this?"

I just smiled, grabbed a coverup and my purse and headed for the door, wiggling my butt just a little because I knew he would watch me.

Venice Beach was amazing. Street performers, roller skating, Pete got caught up in a pickup basketball game and I got to watch. The ocean was incredible.

We fell into an easy routine. Every day, Pete would take me somewhere new and interesting. We went to Rodeo Drive to window shop and people watch, caught an Angels' game, went back to the beach several times, and just hung out. We kissed and made out like the kids we were. Pete tried to touch me a few times and stopped himself before he went too far, my boundary slipping a little more each time.

We cuddled and snuggled in bed, each sneaking off to the bathroom to hide our frustration from the other.

I called Abby and my mom every day just to check in and even went to the spa with Abby one Saturday while Pete went to play basketball with some of his friends. Maggie was back on the road, so I let her call me, which she did every other day or so. I even talked to my dad once or twice. We talked about the practical stuff; what I was going to do long term since I wasn't in school, me getting a job that didn't have 'you want fries with that' in the job description, contingency plans if Pete changed his mind about me staying with him. I didn't offer that the chances of that seemed to diminish exponentially every day, or why.

"Dad, to be honest, right now I'm on vacation, at least for a little while. Pete told me not to worry about rent and stuff like that and mom has been sneaking me a little money, so I'm not a total freeloader. Besides, the whole point of me coming out here is to figure things out and I promise, when I do, you'll be one of the first people I call."

That seemed to ease his concerns a little, and after a little more discussion, I promised to look for a job. "I'll need one to get a new car, anyway. Maybe one a little more lightning proof." I laughed.

He joked that the lightning had done us a favor because the insurance paid a lot more than anybody would have thought the old Maverick was worth. Sure, a 77 Maverick is a classic, but this one was far from pristine and had taken some serious sleight of hand to pass its last inspection.

He called a friend from the Marines who knew a guy in L. A, another Marine, that he trusted and made the arrangements. I had to go in boy mode, and Pete and I had to drive to San Bernardino, but I followed him home in a newer-ish, bright red Jeep Wrangler.

Abby and I talked about things, mostly Pete and me. I told her my fears and asked what I should do.

"It sounds like he's ready and you are the only thing stopping you. I guess the question is, how much longer do you want to be sneaking off to the bathroom to jack off, pretending he doesn't know what you're doing? Wouldn't you rather share that feeling with someone you care about?"

"But what if I do it wrong and he doesn't like it? What if I don't like it?"

"Christy, He's a guy and a very horny one. There is no chance he won't like it." Abby laughed and when it hit me how silly what I said was, I joined her.

I met Pete at the courts and sucked his tonsils from his throat. His friends suddenly understood why he had been so scarce since I arrived. I think the daisy duke shorts and halter top I was wearing might have helped his case.

I went with him and his buddies to the sports bar they liked to hang out in and got all the scoop on what he had really been doing since he came out here for school. I pitched in a few high school stories and by the time we headed home, Pete was well and truly humiliated, as only good friends can do.

Pete jumped in the shower as soon as we got back to the apartment, and I stole his towel, stripping naked and lying on the bed, using it to cover myself, but just barely.

"Babe. Where's my towel?"

"I'm sorry. I borrowed it for a minute. It's on the bed. I can't bring it to you right now."

"Really?" The perturbed look on his face turned to confusion when he saw me.

"Yes, really." I kicked the towel away and opened my legs, showing off the small erection I was fondling with one hand while I toyed with my ass with the other.

His cock got hard instantly, and he smiled as he walked across the room, his eyes never leaving my body and what I was doing to it.

"Abby helped me get ready. She said I could tell you she's like me." I smiled at him with hungry eyes, sliding my thin finger in and out of my hole.

Laying back, I wrapped my arms around his wet body, pulling his lips to mine as he moved between my legs. He gently nibbled on my neck as his hands explored my body, even caressing my fake boobs as if they were real, doing everything he could to tell me how desirous I was without saying a word.

"Pete, please. I'm ready." Nudging him away, I pulled my knees to my chest.

I had been massaging lube into my rectum, preparing myself so when Pete slid his middle finger into me, it slid in easily. I closed my eyes, bit my lip, and moaned. His finger was so much thicker than mine. When a second one joined it, I gasped. When he pressed on my prostate and rubbed, my cock exploded all over my stomach.

I watched in eager anticipation as he coated his throbbing erection in the slick liquid and pressed the tip against my rose. Trying to remember what Abby had told me, I did my best to relax and push like I was going to the bathroom. I guess it worked because his glans popped inside me like it had always been there.

It felt strange, not quite painful, but not quite comfortable, either. He pressed further, slowly driving inch after inch into my willing ass. I focused on my breathing and let out little moans as he went deeper and deeper, noticing I was getting hard again from the feeling of him inside me.

"Christy, are you alright? I'm not hurting you, am I?" I opened my eyes to see the compassion and concern on Pete's face.

"No." I whimpered.

"Which one?" He was seriously concerned. I giggled.

"The first. I'm more than all right. It feels good. I want all of you." I let out a massive moan as he shoved the rest of his shaft as far as he could into my bowels.

"Oh god, why did I wait so long?" I cried as Pete started thrusting in and out as I writhed underneath him and intense feelings of pleasure ran from my ass through my legs and abdomen, my cock leaking clear, sticky liquid all over my stomach.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god, yes, Pete, yes. Yes! That feels so good." I was rambling, my cries getting louder and louder until our neighbor banged on the wall.

Pete froze. I giggled. "I'll try to be quieter if you promise to keep going."

Pete flipped me over and I buried my face in a pillow while he fucked me long and hard, finally driving all the way inside me and filling me with his seed. I collapsed into the pool of sticky mess I had made underneath me and he fell on top of me, his cock still buried in my ass.

As kind as Pete had always been to me, he was not a gentle lover, and I discovered I liked it when he was rough. Not that he hit me or called me degrading names. He just liked to fuck and fuck hard and the harder he fucked me, the more intense my orgasms.

He took me twice more that night, once missionary with me holding my pillow over my head and the last time me on top, which I really liked. Me being in control didn't make it any less intense, it just made it easier for me to be a little quieter.

For a finale, I tried my hand at giving him a blow job, worshiping his beast with my lips and tongue. I figured enthusiasm would overcome my lack of experience and wasn't sure if he could cum a fourth time anyway, so I would just play with his flaccid cock until one or the other of us got tired.

I lost, or won, depending on how you look at it. After about ten minutes of me licking and sucking, of me taking his balls in my mouth and running my tongue around the tip of his cock, he got hard again. I kept going, taking him as deep as I could before he reached his full size, finding that it helped me take more and more of him in my mouth, ultimately taking his entire shaft down my throat.

Don't ask me how I did it because I don't know. I slid him from my throat, twirling my tongue around the spongy head of his dick and smiling up at him triumphantly, he came a fourth time, his cum squirting into my mouth, hitting me under my eye and dribbling down my cheek and chin.

He pulled my face to his, kissing me hard, and we passed out, exhausted in the mess we'd made. I fell asleep with Pete's arms wrapped around me, his cum covering my face and dripping from my ass.

I woke up sore and elated, nestled in Pete's embrace, stuck to the sheets by the sticky mess we had made, and happier than I had ever been in my life. Pete kissed me and headed for the bathroom, so I started stripping the sheets off the bed, trying to figure out whether it would be better to wash them or just thrown them out. They were disgusting.

In hindsight, what happened next should never have happened. Anyone in her right mind, anyone that had ever had marathon sex with her boyfriend, letting him fuck her four times and cum on her face, would ever do what I did, at least not before cleaning up just a little and absolutely not before looking to see who was insistently knocking on the door.

I grabbed a nightgown from the laundry hamper and skipped through the living room, throwing the door open fully expecting it to be our neighbor complaining about the noise, or a door-to-door salesman, or apartment maintenance, somebody that I couldn't care less saw me in my nightgown.

"Can I help..." My face turned white. "Dad?"

"Chris. What the hell?"

"Babe, I'll get that. Why don't you...?"

You know what I looked like? My dad looked like he had seen a ghost, and Pete was standing behind me dripping wet, a stunned look on his face, totally unaware he had dropped his towel.

Somehow, thirty minutes later, we were all sitting at the kitchen table, talking like rational adults.

While Pete dried off and found some shorts and a t-shirt and I ran screaming into the bathroom, my dad calmly closed the door, took a beer out of the fridge, and sat down at the kitchen table. It was only ten o'clock.

Fully aware that there was nothing left to hide, I showered, cleaned my breast forms, reapplied them, made sure my makeup was perfect, slipped on a clean pair of panties, and selected a simple sundress to wear.

"Dad, why didn't you tell us you were coming?" I sat tentatively across the table from him.

"Your mom knew you were hiding something, and I agreed with her. With the curious circumstances around your car and you getting here, we thought it best if I surprised you. I guess we were right."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know how to tell you." I looked down at the pattern of the tiles in floor, waiting for the hurricane I knew was coming. It never came.

I looked up to see my dad confused and what looked like a little scared. He had always been a rock, that mythical, unmovable object. He was a fucking war hero. My dad didn't get rattled. Not my dad. Yet here he was, looking at me like he needed my approval for something.

"Chris, I came to tell you I'm sorry for the way I've treated you. I had this grand vision of us working together and I just never stopped to consider what you might want. I should have seen it. I should have let myself see it. Your mom and I knew you weren't like most boys. You were smaller and gentler, but by damn, I wanted my son to be like me, so I tried to make you that way." Tears were streaming down his face.

"When they found your car and nobody could find you, the officer asked me if you were in any trouble, if there was anything you would run away from. I had just gotten your grades, and I knew. I knew what you were running away from. I knew it was me."

I got up and hugged him. "Dad, it's OK."

He buried his face in my breasts and just cried. My dad, retired Marine Colonel Anthony Archer, CEO of Archer Financial, cried until there were no more tears to cry. I cried with him.

He got up to go wash his face in the kitchen, coming back looking like a new man while I scurried to the bathroom to do the same thing.

He and I talked for a long time about everything that had bothered me, and he just listened, acknowledging my feelings for the first time I could remember and apologizing about fifty times.

"And this?" He motioned to me. I knew what he meant and gave him the short version of Maggie saving me and what had happened on the way to L.A.

"Your mom wants to do a Zoom meeting." He gave me one of those side-eyed looks. "She wants proof that you're alright, and do you blame her? You've been lying to her for weeks and before you say anything, it could be worse. She could find out like I did." He had me there.

My mom's initial response was not at all what I expected. She just stared at me for the longest time. Then her expression changed from confusion to the loving acceptance I knew I would always find with her. "Chris, honey, is that really you? You're so beautiful. No, honey. Don't cry. You'll ruin your makeup."

I had called Maggie. She came over and we told my parents the complete story of our great three-day adventure and how Christy had blossomed like a desert flower. Poor Bennie got laughed at again. My dad blushed when I gave him the same look and my mom audibly gasped.

We talked for a while longer, mostly me answering questions about the changes I had undergone over the last month, fully admitting that it had been much too fast, that it had been the best decision of my life, and that I couldn't go back.

Again, my dad just listened and nodded. I don't think he loved the idea of me being his daughter, but it was better than not having me in his life at all. The burned-out car incident had given him a taste of what that was like, and it had changed him forever.

My mom saw how happy I was and jumped on board, telling me to call her later and we could talk about some girl things. It was my turn to blush. If she only knew.

"Are you going to tell mom about me and Pete?" I asked my dad when we disconnected the call.

"You two are adults and while it is one more thing that I wouldn't have chosen for you, I'll try to understand. As for telling your mom, what happens in this apartment is nobody's business but yours."

The four of us walked down the street to a café that Pete and I liked. I told Maggie about last night and how my dad found me this morning. She did her best not to laugh. Epic fail. My dad and Pete had fallen behind us. I got the feeling my dad was laying down the law on how his little girl was to be treated, or maybe it was Pete that wanted to talk to my dad. Who knows, maybe they were talking about the Rangers' abysmal pitching. Whatever it was, it made me feel good to see them together.

My dad extended his hotel stay for a few days. We went for walks. I gave him a ride to Venice Beach in my Jeep, and we talked a lot, and I learned a lot about him I hadn't known. With his help, I decided on a plan of action. I was going to transfer to USC to major in psychology.

It had taken a couple of phone calls, but a guy he served with had a connection at the admissions office and USC agreed to accept me for the fall on probation. I could only take entry level classes and had one semester to make them not regret their decision.

He would continue to pay for my school if I made the grades, and provide me with a small allowance, just like he had been doing while I was going to school at UT.

The day before he left, my dad met our neighbor in the hall. That was all it took. He hooked Pete and me up with a friend that had a condo not too far from campus.

"How do you have all these contacts in L.A." I shook my head when he gave us the news.

"Once a Marine, always a Marine," was his answer.

We all went to dinner together, and I dropped my dad off at the airport. "I'm just glad you're safe and happy. I'll figure the rest out. I love you, Chris, or I guess it's Christy now." We both teared up a little, but the security guy made me move my Jeep before it got too bad.

The rest of the summer was wonderful as Pete and I settled into a nice routine of sightseeing, trips to the beach and wild, unabated sex. A bunch of his teammates helped us move into the condo. The party after was so far beyond any I had ever been to, I almost started second guessing my decision to go to USC.

Abby connected me with a great counselor who, after seeing me twice a week for a while, introduced me to some doctors. Just before school started, I started taking my hormones.

USC reminded me of Texas in some ways, huge major university, massive survey classes, and tons of people everywhere. What it had that Texas didn't was my support network, Pete, Amber, Maggie, and proximity to the Pacific Ocean, all of which I took advantage of every chance I got, especially Pete.

Maybe it was changing my major. Perhaps it was changing me. Maybe it was my new relationship with my dad. Maybe it was the ocean or all the sex with Pete. I didn't know exactly what it was, but I thrived at USC.

Our condo was not only bigger than the Pete's small apartment, but it was also better insulated. Pete could fuck me as hard and as long and as he wanted and I could scream my head off, which I did frequently.

It also became the social center for the receivers and running backs, and whoever else from the team wanted to tag along.

Nobody here had ever heard of Chris, and they all loved Christy. For the first time in my life, I fit right in.

Pete earned his starting position and, in the first conference game against Washington in The Rose Bowl, caught a little swing pass on the second play of the game. He stiff-armed one defender and put a spin move on another that made the guy look silly, leaving Pete in the clear. Eighty yards later, he was in the end zone and the Trojans had a lead they would never surrender. Pete caught five more finishing the game with 180 yards and two touchdowns.

The party at our condo that night was electric. With the way the team had played, I didn't think it would be our last.

My classes were amazing and being Christy had become second nature. I never even thought about being a boy. My little extra was just something only a select few people knew about that I had to deal with. With the hormones, erections became a thing of the past, and my nipples ached and itched. Abby introduced me to a friend that had done her hair removal and I began that process, too. Everything about my coming to California was perfect.

We had dominated UCLA and Pete had another record game, this time three touchdowns. The last of our friends had just left when Pete found me on the balcony watching a storm off in the distance. He wrapped his arms around me and nuzzled my neck, giving my shoulder a gentle kiss. Lightning danced on the horizon, each flash bringing a smile to my face as I thought back to that night in the Texas desert when my life had changed. I couldn't help but wonder how many miracles were happening tonight, how many lives might change because of some random, unexpected event.

They say that lightning never strikes twice in the same place. I don't know if that's true or not. Leaning back into Pete's embrace, I pulled his arms tight around me.