Shemales

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To Be A Gangsta

Date: 12.01.2008

Keywords: Be, A, Gangsta, To,

Pages:
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Ahem, OK... I'm ready, are you? Of course you are, you followed the link here... But you may not realize that this story is the sequel to Jobe, Cross-Dresser Extraordinaire. So now you know. If you've never read that go check it out. Or get ready... set...

Being sidetracked is a bitch. I'm such a failure, I swear. Always thinking with ya pecker Jo? Little bastard causes me no end of trouble. A night wasted, anyway... eh... where was I... Oh yeah failure, time to be depressed.

I'm such a loser blah blah blah blah blah blah. I can't believe blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah balh. Why did I blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.

Okay, I'm over it. Time for a pep talk. I can do it! I believe blah blah blah blah blah blah blah. Next time I'll blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah. With a little blah blah blah blah blah blah.

Blah.

Damn I feel ready to procrastinate until my chance has past me by and all that's left is regret that I never tried. Yeah time to play some Flash Whack A Mole. Damn them little mole bastards are fast.

The Buddhist should use flash games as a form of meditation. After ten hours of trying desperately to reach that perfect score, that unattainable goal, the figures dancing in 2D on the screen... your mind grows numb, you no longer think about what your doing, and yet the points come faster, urging you on, and then you feel it. You suddenly know, no, not know...

COMPREHEND. You reach an understanding of the game, you see how Tom got to level ten, it flows through you... filling you up, and then it breaks like a tidal wave, leaving a clam wind blowing inside you, and surely this is nirvana.

Or not... ya know whatever. Maybe your not so amazed by free arcade games, but their really something.

What was I doing before I got off on this? If you're going to insist on listening to my private thoughts I might as well fill you in. I've been trying to score with my boss lately. Yeah I know, will you shut up and let me tell the story? Damn.

Anyway she's gay, well, hopefully bi, but but she sure loves them hoes. Bad news is I'm a guy. But hey, I've got long black hair, that's a start right? Don't bring me down I do that to myself. But look, win or lose, as long as you can say you gave it your best shot its cool. Last night I attempted to pick her up at a bar by dressing a girl, but I got... ah... a little off track. But I ain't no quitter. That's right I say ain't, lay off me.

Yes I know I'm sitting around playing flash games when I should be "giving it my all." I swear I'm gonna get right on this when I beat Fox895's high score. I almost got it... just a little...

The phone rings, like a monster interrupting a few teens sexual exploits it could not have come at a worse time. Abandoning my quest for glory I head for the phone.

"Hello?" I answered. I think to myself, this better be as important as Whack A Mole.

"Hey Jobe, what's up?" Tom's voice... on my phone, it took a moment to sink in. Son of a bitch!

"How did you get my number?" Perhaps a better question would have been, how could my life be this bad?

"The PHONE BOOK DUMB-DUMB!" I'm not even gonna make another negative comment, I can deal with this.

"So what ya want Tom?"

"I was just thinking we should go get some beer's, Sunday night, work is tomorrow let's have a good time, what do you say?" Negative thoughts... can't stop... Great idea, get hammered so you'll be as miserable as possible for work.

I was about to blow him off, but perhaps my time spent in battle with the moles had brought me to a higher plane. The time has come to deal with this Tom fellow, to make sure that he never says another word to me. I had a wonderful idea. I would don my disguise, meet him at the bar and make a pass at him. Tom should be sufficiently disgusted to leave me the hell alone.

I'm a ruthless bastard; Mao Zedong has nothing on me. What? Don't know who Mao was? Well look him up! Damn, I ain't ya dictionary.

I got dressed with a certain amount of joy, not to much, don't want to get to cheery, have to have a straight face when I go in for the kill, ya know? Its times like these when I notice myself having some of that self respect those teachers are always going on about. Let's all give ourselves a pat on the back, go ahead. Pat pat, I did. Oh, and might I say I am a sexy beast, I hooked myself up with some phat blue lipstick it matched my blue skirt. I could fuck myself if I met me.

Tom was at the bar nursing a beer when I walked in, some friends were with him, oh... this would be so sweet. I set my face in a smile, and rolled on into battle.

"Hey, Tom!" I used my most girly voice, Tom and his friends looked at me. Tom didn't show any recognition. But he dug himself a nice hole for me to toss him in.

"Hey there pretty lady, why don't you sit down and have a beer?" My thoughts exactly cock knocker.

I sat beside him and wrapped my arm around his shoulder, speaking in my normal (drop dead sexy) voice "When you said we'd have some fun I thought it would be just the two of us like normal." Tom was speechless, and his friends stunned, he looked like a fish out of the water with his jaw gaping.

Lipstick: eight dollars. Ear-rings: eighty dollars. The look on some assholes face when you go straight gangsta and fuck his ass up: priceless.

Tom's friends made their assumptions, and looked at Tom with an expression of horror. I watched as my mere presence and a few words led Tom into a heated debate concerning his affection for men. My work done I quietly snuck off, cause when your this gangsta you gots to worry your gonna get your ass handed to you by some punks you got freaky on.

I moved over to the other side of the bar and ordered a beer, because I deserve it, pat pat. One beer became two, and two three, he invited four who hammered my ass good. I am under the influence ladies and gentleman.

Some women sat beside me. Don't ya know my victory party couldn't just go straight from sitting down, getting smashed, and then puking? No, somebody always has to get up in my jelly.

"Hey, what's your name?" This girl seemed familiar. She ordered me a beer.

I liked her already. "The name's Nancy... err, no it's Stacy, no wait. There's way too many names like that in these stories, I am Daisy Hornblower of Waymoot!"

The stranger rose an eyebrow, "Oh yeah, you sure Daisy?"

"Err, yeah, pretty sure. That's the closest hobbit equivalent to Catherine Long. I'll go with it anyway." My speech fell naturally into my role, years of D&D role playing at my disposal. Yes good sir, I will slay this dragon for you.

The interloper tipped a beer to her mouth, a serious look on her face, and then I recognized her, Wendy. The Boss, she was sitting next to me, getting drunk. Why hadn't I recognized her right off the bat? Damn. I'm more smashed then I realized, why didn't I eat something? Yes I know I was planning on getting wasted but I still feel I've shown a lack of foreseeing hindsight. I should have expected some bullshit like this would happen to me.

Have you ever been drunk while doing something important? If you're lucky you'll have the focus to repeat to yourself, "Don't fuck up, don't fuck up, and don't fuck up."

I felt Wendy's hand on my thigh, like the litany against fear I begged myself not to fuck up. She leaned over, her lips next to my ear. She whispered, "How about coming over to my place?" Her hand caressed my thigh, sending a shiver up my spine.

"Oh boy, yeah." Could I sound any dumber? Wendy paid the bill and escorted me to the street corner, my heart was pounding as we rode the taxi to her apartment. Her hands were all over me. I squeezed my legs together to keep her from discovering my cylinder companion. She kissed my ear and sucked on my neck.

I'm gonna have to go to work with a hicky tomorrow. I could see the cab driving in the rear view mirror; I don't think the show caused him any pain.

I kept my stumbling to a minimum as Wendy escorted me up to her room. Of course I knew she'd find out, I mean, it might take five minutes, it might take ten minutes but it was gonna happen. But in the words of Canderous; "Win or lose, as long as a battle is worthy then honor is gained. If there's nothing at stake, your life, your possessions, your world, then the battle is meaningless."

Alright maybe that doesn't exactly apply here but give me a break, it ain't easy bein greasy. But at least being able to focus like this is a clear sign that my buzz is wearing off, that's definitely good.

Wendy practically dragged me to her bedroom and pushed me down on the bed. She sat on my chest and looked down at me smiling. I reached up and slipped my hand up her shirt, her skin felt so soft, I was in heaven... drunk.

Wendy bent down and pressed her lips against mine. Her tongue probed my mouth, I sucked on it and swirled mine around it. Wendy's hands held my head, keeping me at an angle where her tongue could reach every corner of my mouth. I had never been kissed like that. Her passion was so raw; so aggressively, it felt like she wanted to eat me up.

She pulled away for a moment; tossing her shirt and bra she pressed her lips against mine with the same hunger. My hands pinched her nipples, twisting and squeezing them. They roamed over her stomach, down her back, tracing her spine.

My lungs burned for air, her lips stole my will to breathe, soft and so demanding they pressed against me. All I could do was close my eyes and feel her hot lips and tongue. Her hands gripped my hair and pulled my head back, our mouths parting. A few strands of spit hanging from our lips. I gasped for breath as she licked my neck. Saliva dripped from her mouth and ran down to my shirt.

She pulled herself away for a moment and discarded her jeans; I stared at her white cotton panties. Girls always look so hot with just panties on. It's like you can see anything you want, but ah... not that. It taunts you, it begs you to come closer and see what it's like under there.

Pages:
1 2 3 Next

Keywords: Be, A, Gangsta, To,

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