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Bobbi's Story 6 One, Two, Three, Kick!
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
me.
A few doors from where we had parked the car, Brian turned
to lead us into a small bar and restaurant with a sign above the
door that read "Little Paul's." The decor inside ran all to checkered
tablecloths, wine bottles with candles in them, and murals of Roman
ruins. "I hope you like Italian," said Brian. "It might not look like
much at first, but the food is great here." I gave his arm a little
squeeze. "It looks just wonderful," I said.
"Brian! My Irish paisano!," called a voice from over near the
bar. A short, chubby man got up from a table there, and walked
toward us. He wore a grey suit with a dark shirt and light grey tie,
and looked like a character straight out of some low-budget gangster
movie. I almost laughed when I saw him, but held that back. He
was an incredible stereotype.
"Hey, Brian!," he said, slapping Brian on the back, and looking
me over from head to toe. "You gonna' introduce me to the bella
femina, or do I have to steal her away from you myself? Escuse,
beautiful lady," he continued without letting Brian say anything,
"Brian, he's a nice a'boy but he forget'a his manners sometimes.
You can call'a me Little Paul. I own'a this place, but I always think
there's a'something she is mis- sing. Now you come'a here, and
a'make my place beautiful for me. Let me show you to a good a'table.
Brian, he's a come too. What is you name, beautiful lady?"
Little Paul was charming. He might sound like some sort of made-
up character, but he was a very real person. A lot of writers have
used some characters like him in their stories, but I met the prototype
that day. Maybe all of them ate in that same restaurant at one time
or another. He led us to a table near the wall away from the bar,
and I answered his question. "That's a beautiful name for a beautiful
lady," he said. "You sit, and talk to mi bambino Brian while I get'a
you some vino, eh?" Brian shook his head as Little Paul walked away.
"I went to school with his daughter, and lived across the street from
him, so he thinks of me like one of his own kids. I hope you don't
mind," he said. "Not at all," I answered. "I think he's sort of cute."
Dinner and conversation with Brian was great. If I had felt that
there was something special about him before, it grew the more I
got to know about him. He was a policeman, but he was also taking
courses for a degree in criminology and law in his off hours. He
had aspirations of being more than a patrolman, and the sooner the
better as far as he was concerned. "I'd like to be in a management
area with the FBI or even the State police," he said. "I'm not sure
where yet. I do like police work, and I think I can move up the ladder
that way." From the confidence in his voice when he said that, I really
believed that he would.
I also learned that he had a very moral upbringing. "I don't
consider myself a religious man," he said, "but I see a lot of things
going on lately that I can't agree with. That's fine if they work for
other people, but I don't want to get into that with anyone that I
might want a longer relationship with unless we are making a definite
commitment. If it's just a casual date at a bar, I might take what
192____Bobbi's_Story___________________________________________________________
get's offered, but special women deserve special treatment, and I only
bring special people here." That was his way of trying to say that
he would put no pressure on me for sex. It might seem stiff and
formal when compared to the morals of the time at the beginning of
the "Sexual Revolution," but there was nothing very stiff or formal
about Brian. He just agreed with the moral values that he had been
taught by his mother, even if he did not share her Irish Catholic
religious beliefs. He was not against sex in any way, even before
marriage, but he wanted the woman he would share his life with to
know that he respected her in every way that he could. It was very
refreshing from the other men I knew. I liked it.
Brian took me home at about eleven o'clock. "Your mom should
be pleased," he said jokingly. As I was about to get out of the
car at the apartment building where I lived, he asked, "Could I see
you again?," and put out his hand in a polite, respectful, first date
handshake. Taking the handshake, I said, "Sure!," and pulled myself
close enough to give him a kiss on the cheek. He smiled broadly as I
stepped out of the car, and passed through the door to the building
that Thomas was holding for me. "I'll call you!," I heard him shout
as the glass door closed behind me, and I waved in answer. I hoped
he would call, and very soon.
Edith was still up when I came in. "How did it go?," she asked.
"Oh, it was nice," I answered, but in my mind I said, "Dreamy!"
Brian might not have seemed like much to some, but he got to me
somehow. Most of the girls at that time would not have thought
it "cool" to date a cop, but that just did not matter to me. Brian
was someone special, no matter how I looked at it, and I was having
a lot of very female feelings toward him. Only the twitching of my
little penis in its tuck in my crotch reminded me that I was not quite
yet all the woman that Brian might have wanted in a girlfriend. If
I could just hold things off until after the SRS, maybe it could still
work out.
"Where should I meet you after work tomorrow?," Edith asked.
"Tomorrow?," I replied. "Aren't you in a show tomorrow night?,"
Edith said. "You said that I should come to see it." I had forgotten. I
guess that my mind had been too full of thoughts of Brian. "Right!,"
I replied. "It just slipped my mind. Let's meet at the Lord Camelot
next door to the bar. We can eat there, and the club is right next
door." The restaurant was not all that great, but it would do for a
light dinner before I had to dance. "I'll meet you there at six," Edith
said. "I'm going to bed now." I went to bed too. I wanted to dream
about Brian.
I brought my dance things to work with me the next day, so that I
could go right to the bar from there. I had lunch with Gwen and Sue
in the cafeteria, and we discussed my date with Brian. Sue was a little
turned-off by the fact that I would date a policeman, but thought
that he sounded nice anyway. She was into the counter-culture and
anti-establishment movements, but I tried not to let anything she
said bother me. Being around Brian felt good, and that was that. I
was falling for him in a big way.
_Bobbi's_Story___________________________________________________________193___
After work I took a taxi across town to the bar. I wanted to
put my dance things in my locker before I met Edith for dinner.
The bar was busy with its usual Friday afternoon throng of drinkers
on the way home from work. Most of these were the Bisexual men
who stopped in to look at the drag queens before they went back to
their wives. They would almost all be gone before show time, and a
different crowd would come in. "Bobbi!," a voice called out from the
bar. It was Billie.
"Tina's lookin' for you," she said. "She's back in the office, so go
see her first. Okay?" I told her I would, and added, "I'm going to
have a guest for the show tonight. It's my... Well, it's a real-girl, and
she hasn't been to a place like this before. Can you get her at one
of the reserved tables?" Billie took out the seating plan, and looked
it over. "I can put her at Jerry's table. There's one seat left, and no
queens at it tonight. Okay?," she asked. Jerry was the owner, so that
would work fine, and maybe even impress Edith a little. "Okay," I
said, and started toward the office to see what Tina wanted.
"Hello, Bobbi," said Margo as I passed her at the end of the bar.
"You look lovely tonight. Are you in the show, or have you dropped
out of the chorus line already?" Some guy on the next barstool was
groping her thigh, and was working his hand up under her skirt. She
did not stop him, so I assumed that they would soon be taking a
trip to the hotel for one of special blow-jobs. "How did you know I
was dropping out"," I asked. "Oh," she replied. "I heard Tina had
a replacement for you, and I thought she told you about it." Margo
was as good at spreading gossip as she was at spreading her legs. "No
she didn't," I said with some annoyance, "but I'll ask her when I see
her." I broke off the conversation to start toward the office again.
Margo and her trick got up, and left for the hotel. At least the john
would get her while she was still reasonably sober.
Tina was sitting at the desk when I got to the office. "Come in,
and sit down," she said when I knocked. She had her feet on the desk,
and did not seem concerned that there was an open view up her skirt
for anyone who cared to look. "I've got two things to tell you," she
began. "Toni and I have been talking about you, and we feel that
you can do a lot better things as a dancer than the G.G.Girls. Toni
wants to use you in some things she's got planned, but we can't have
you in them except as a real-girl. We want you to drop out of here,
and let her pick you up through the school. It's a good career move,
and you can get paid for her stuff. You'll do the show tonight, but
either way, that's your last one. What do you think?" I wanted out
anyway, so I agreed, but tossed in a comment about Margo's gossip.
"I'll deal with her," Tina said sternly.
"What's the second thing?," I asked. "Well," Tina said, looking
at me with lust in her eyes, "we just want to remind you about our
sexual proposition. We still both want you in bed." She was not
going to let up on that, and I knew that Toni would probably put
the same pressure on me at the school. "I still need to think about
it," I replied. "Think well," she said. "My cock want's another taste
of that sweet ass of yours."
194____Bobbi's_Story___________________________________________________________
I took my leave of her after that, and went to the dressing room.
My dance things were soon in my locker, and I went next door to
the coffee shop to meet Edith. I really did not want to have sex with
Tina and Toni, but I was not sure how to get out of the pressure
they were putting on me. I would have to find a way.
Edith was already in the Lord Camelot when I got there, and I
joined her at the table. We talked a bit about work, and a lot about
Brian. "We will have to have him over for dinner one night," Edith
said. "Okay," I replied, "but not quite yet. I don't want him to think
I'm rushing things by having him meet my mother right away." This
produced some giggles from both of us. I told her about the stageside
table I had arranged for her to sit at, and the fact that since the show
was not until ten o'clock, she would be alone in the bar for a while.
"That's all right," she said. "I know what to do in a bar." Knowing
Edith, I had no doubt that she did.
I did not have to be in the dressing room to get ready for the
show until eight o'clock, so Edith and I got to chat for a couple of
hours over dinner and coffee. It should be no surprise that most of
the talk centered around Brian. Soon enough, however, it was time
to get back to the bar. Edith's reaction when we walked in was a
little more reserved than I might have expected. She seemed totally
nonplussed by the fact that out of the group of about one-hundred
individuals in the club, a group that appeared to be a balanced mix
of men and women, she was one of only about six biological females
that were there.
I walked her through the crowd to the back bar where Emma was
holding court, and introduced her. "If you're a friend of Bobbi's,
you get the first drink free," said Emma. "I'm more than Bobbi's
friend," replied Edith. "I'm her mother." In all the time I had known
Emma, I had never seen her be surprised by anything, but that
seemed to shake her. "You're her mother?," Emma asked. "Yes,"
Edith answered, "and I'm very proud of my daughter. I came to
see her dance tonight." I had to get backstage, so I asked Emma to
make sure that Edith got seated at Jerry's table. I left them talking
to each other like old friends. I had to get on the job for the last
time here.
Most of the girls were already in the dressing room by the time
I got there, but Patty was conspicuous by her absence. I hoped she
was just late, and not taking the night off. I was friendly with all
of the girls in a sort of general way, but Patty was the only one I
act-ually thought of as a friend in the real sense of the word. I did
not want my last show as one of the G.G.Girls Chorus Line to go by
without seeing her. I changed quietly in my part of the room with
only a few remarks to the others. It was now almost nine o'clock,
and still no Patty.
Then a commotion broke out in the hall. Hardly a night went by
here without some sort of shouting match, so that was not an unusual
thing to happen. With all the Pre-Op and Post-Op Transexuals
around in various levels of hormone therapy, things were bound to
get a little crazy as body chemistry fluctuated all over the place,
_Bobbi's_Story___________________________________________________________195___
swinging moods on an emotional trapeze. We all just stopped to
listen, so we could tell if it was someone we knew, if a fight was
breaking out, if someone had pulled a knife, or if someone was about
to pull a gun. Arguments were daily, fights were weekly, knives were
drawn about once a month, and the bar was good for about one gun
incident a year. I do not recall anyone ever getting seriously hurt in
the bar. That sort of mayhem was reserved for the street outside.
The Gilded Grape was our protection from it all. Outside, the world
was bent on mutual destruction, but in here, we had a relative degree
of safety. The weapons might be brandished, but never used. It was
a strange state of affair.
The voices in the hall soon resolved into Tina's and a much deeper
male voice that sounded familiar, but I could not quite place. I could
not make out the first parts of the argument, but as the voices got
closer, I heard Tina say angrily, "You fucking better not be this
fucking late ever again, or I'll kick your fucking skinny whore ass off
the stage!" The deeper voice retorted, "All right! Let up on it! I told
you it wouldn't happen again, so let me get ready." The door opened,
and in stepped Patty with Tina right behind her. "Get ready, bitch!,"
Tina shouted. "We'll finish this later!" Tina left, slamming the door
behind her, and Patty came over to our area to change. She did not
seem all that upset by what had just happened.
"Hi," I said weakly. "How's it going tonight?" Patty looked at
me, and we both began to snicker. We dare not laugh out loud, or
Tina might think we were laughing at her. "Actually it's going pretty
good," said Patty, returning to her female voice again. "Where were
you?," I asked, and she got this weird smile on her face. "Getting
fucked," she answered. This sort of caught me off guard with its
frankness. "Oh?," I said. "Was it good?" Patty licked her lips, and
said, "Good? Honey, you don't know that half of it! I met this
Straight looking guy in the park the other day, and he tries to pick
me up. I figure I can string him through dinner, tell him I got my
period and dump him. Well, over a drink he tells me he thinks he
saw me in here once. It turns out that he digs chicks with cocks. He
ain't let me out of bed all week, and with his seven incher to sit on,
I ain't wanted to be let out. I wish I could get a shower quick. My
ass is squishing, and full of his cum right now."
It appeared that Patty was rather taken with this new young
man of her's, but we did not have time to discuss it further at that
moment. We agreed to meet for lunch later that week to talk more.
She also seemed to know all about my leaving the way Margo did. I
wondered who told who, and if there was anyone who did not know
by now. Patty made a quick trip to the toilet to clean up while I
covered for her. It would very soon be showtime!
The stage lights caught me full in the face as the curtain went
up, and while I was getting used to that happening, it meant that
I could not see the audience very well. I wanted to have a quick
look around for Edith to be sure she was all right. I need not have
worried. When I did get a look at her, she was at a stageside table
with a drink in front of her, and talking happily with Jerry. She
196____Bobbi's_Story___________________________________________________________
seemed to be having a very good time, and even enjoying the show
when she stopped talking to Jerry long enough to look at it. She did
watch me, though. I liked that.
There was not much socializing in the dressing room after the
show. Everyone seemed to have places to go, and things to do. My
joining was a celebration, but my leaving was quiet. Even Patty
skipped out without a shower, the quicker to get back to her stud.
I showered alone, dressed, cleared out my locker, and dropped my
keys in the office. I went to find Edith.
Edith was saying good night to Jerry when I found her. Jerry
never stayed around the club much. He was Straight, and only ap-
peared in the bar to see the shows. He was actually a theatrical
agent, and the bar was just an investment where he showcased some
of his minor talent in a campy atmosphere. "Are you ready to leave,
or would you like to stay a while?," Edith asked. "Let's go," I said,
and we hailed a cab outside. "You seem quiet," Edith said as we
rode home. "Just thinking. You know I have a modeling assignment
tomorrow night?," I said. "That's fine," Edith replied, "because I
won't be home either. I've got a date with your friend Jerry."
14 On Call
"My, but don't you look pretty tonight," said Edith as I stepped out
of my room. "This must be some special place you're going." I gave
her a little pout, and said, "I told you this was my first modeling
assignment for the agency, and I have to look my best for it." I fussed
a bit more with my hair, and Edith asked, "It seems rather late for
a job, and it's a Saturday night too. What sort of assignment is it?"
I hesitated for a second, and then replied, "Oh, it's some stock shots
that have to do with, ah... having fun at night in New York. I'll be
very late coming home, so don't wait up for me." Edith looked at
me with one of her motherly looks. I could not be sure if she had
bought the story or not.
It was not a lie. It was an assignment from Helen's modeling
agency, and it did have to do with having fun at night in New York.
The only thing that I had not told Edith was that I was the fun that
someone was going to have. I was indeed going on my first assignment
tonight, but it was my first assignment on call as a call-girl.
My date for tonight was a businessman from Chicago who came
to New York about four times a year. He was one of Helen's regular
clients, and usually took one of her girls out to dinner, and back to
the bed in his hotel room whenever he was in town. Some time ago
he had asked Helen if she knew of anyone like me instead of one of
the regular girls that she always supplied. When he had called Helen
on Thursday to set up his usual date, she mentioned me to him, and
he accepted readily. He was not overtly homosexual, but did want a
sort of change of pace from his wife. As long as I wore a dress, his
self-image would stay intact. There are lots of men like him.
I had gotten the assignment from Helen herself when I called in on
_Bobbi's_Story___________________________________________________________197___
Friday like she had told me to. Most of my assignments from then
on I would get through her receptionist, but she liked to give out
first assignments personally. Helen had been very concerned about
the way I would handle myself with my date. "Be affectionate," she
had told me, "but not overt about it in public. My girls all have the
sort of class about them that would fit a senior executive's wife. Our
clients are entitled to more than just some chippie to ball."
Helen was almost as much of a mother as Edith in a lot of ways.
She insisted on going over almost every detail of the assignment with
me on the phone. "I just want things to go well for you," she had
said. "This is your first time out, but it should not seem like that to
the client." She was right. All of her instructions were worthwhile,
and I did appreciate her concern. It was a benefit to both of us.
I would have a better time of it with my date, and she would be
assured of keeping a repeat customer.
"The limousine will pick you up in front of your apartment build-
ing," Helen said. "Be ready at six. The limo will take you to the
hotel. Your companion's name is Dan. Call his room from the house
phone in the lobby, and introduce yourself. He'll tell you if he wants
you to come up, or wait for him in the bar. This one usually picks
the bar. Tell him what you're wearing, and sit at one end of the bar
so you're easy for him to find. Greet him quietly, but warmly, like
you've known him for a while. It's okay to kiss, but keep it friendly,
not passionate, and only if he makes the first move toward you. Let
him make the first moves all night. You just don't resist anything he
might do.
I assured her that I would do exactly what she told me, and she
added, "Two last things. Don't ask for money! I bill him for tonight,
and I'll send you a cheque so it looks like a real modeling assignment.
Finally, take it easy on the booze. Even if he gets a little drunk, you
don't! Keep your head straight, and have fun. Call me at home on
Sunday afternoon, and tell me how it went. Okay?" That was all she
had to say. I told her that I would be fine, and I would report in on
Sunday.
"Have fun," Edith said as I put on my coat, and got ready to
leave. "I will," I replied. "I'm looking forward to tonight. It should
be fun too." I was still trying to cover things, but I really was looking
forward to it. I liked the feeling of class that I got about going to the
sort of places that Helen said I would be going. The Hippies could
keep their candles and pot. Crystal chandeliers and champagne were
more to my taste. This might be prostitution, but it was better than
any common street walker would ever have.
It was ten minutes before six when I got to the lobby of the
apartment building. I was a little early for my limousine, but I was
anxious to get going. I did not feel like waiting upstairs with Edith
and Sarah. They were too full of motherly type questions, and I was
not in the mood for answering them. I guess all girls got that sort of
mild third degree from their mothers before a date, or anytime they
were going out in the evening. It was all well intentioned, but my
mind was on other things tonight.
198____Bobbi's_Story___________________________________________________________
"Cab, Miss Bobbi?," said Thomas the doorman when I looked
out to see if my ride had arrived. "No, Thomas," I replied. "I have a
limousine coming to pick me up in a few minutes. I was just looking
for it." Thomas touched the brim of his cap politely, and said, "Very
good, Miss Bobbi. If you'd like to wait on the lobby sofa, I'll let
you know when it arrives." I thanked him, and walked to the sofa to
wait. I only had time to check my make-up in my compact mirror
when he came over to tell me that the limousine had arrived.
The driver was holding the door to the back seat for me as I
crossed the sidewalk to get in. "Good evening," he said. "My name
is William. I'm your driver for tonight. Please let me know if there
is anything I can do for you." William was a tall, black man with
the muscular build of a boxer. I found out later that he had been a
boxer in the Navy, and that Helen had hired him as a driver for her
limousine service because he would be able to handle any problems
that might come up if a client decided to do something foolish. It
was nice to know that he would be there if any problems did come
up. I got into the back seat, and William closed the door behind me.
I settled back into the seat, and William drove away from the
curb. "Miss Bobbi?," he said through the limousine's intercom sys-
tem. "Your date is at the New York Hilton tonight. I've been re-
tained to drive both of you around all evening. I will also be waiting
for you in the hotel lobby when you're ready to go home. Just let
the bell captain know when you need me, and they will fetch me for
you. The radio is under your control, and there are some soft drinks
and wine in the bar back there if you would like some. Sit back, and
enjoy the ride." That is exactly what I did.
It was not long before the limousine drew up in front of the New
York Hilton, and William was holding the door for me to get out.
"Thank you, William," I said with a regal air, and went into the
hotel. I went straight to the house phone, and gave the operator my
client's name. A moment later there was a ringing tone, and a deep
voice on the other end said, "Hello?" The voice sounded nice, and I
said, "Dan? This is Bobbi. Helen sent me. Shall I come up, or would
you rather meet down here?" There was a short pause, and then the
voice said, "No... ah... I'll meet you in the bar. Okay?" I told him
I would be waiting for him, and described what I was wearing. "I'll
be right down," he said.
I slipped my coat off, and went into the lobby bar. Again it
seemed like every male eye was following my every move as I walked
to one end of the bar, and sat demurely on a stool at the end. I just
had time to order a white wine, and take a sip when a man in a dark
blue suit stood next to me. "Bobbi?," he said. "Dan?," I replied,
and he nodded taking my hand. He leaned toward me, so I gave him
a friendly kiss on the lips in greeting. He seemed to like that very
much.
Dan was about forty years old, and slim built with just the be-
ginnings of a middle-age tummy. He looked like he had once been
athletic. He was six feet tall with a big Polish looking face, and
dark, curly hair just barely tinged with grey. He ordered a Scotch
_Bobbi's_Story___________________________________________________________199___
for himself, and we made some bit of "getting-to-know-you" small
talk. He was pleasant and easy to talk with, and liked making silly
little double entente jokes, turning most things I said into straight
lines for them. I rather liked him. He was fun to be with.
We finished our drinks as we talked, and then got ready to go
to dinner. "You know," Dan said as we walked through the lobby,
"you're not quite what I expected." I looked at him questioningly,
and asked, "What do you mean?" He smiled. "Only good things,"
he said in a whisper. "I just expected someone different. You're just
like being with a real girl. I like that." I liked that too.
William was waiting for us with the limousine when Dan and I
stepped out of the hotel. I slid into the back seat first, and caught
Dan giving my legs a good look as the short skirt of my cocktail dress
rode even further up my thighs almost exposing my stocking tops.
He liked what he saw. Dan slid into the seat next to me, and slipped
his arm around me, pulling us closer together. "You don't mind if
I hold you like this, do you?," he asked with a romantically lustful
tone in his voice. "Not at all," I replied. "I like it. We're going to be
very close friends tonight." Then I kissed him on the cheek. "Yes we
are," he said with only lust in his voice this time, and gently fondled
my right knee.
We did not have far to go, so it was only minutes before the
limousine drew up in front of the RCA Building, and we were in the
elevator on our way up to The Rainbow Room. I left my coat at the
check room, and we were escorted to our table. The waiter took our
drinks order, and we were left alone to talk.
This was certainly not a cheap date for Dan, so I was curious
to find out how he could afford it. I was not obvious about it, but
in the course of conversation I was able to find out many things.
Dan was not just some salesman on a junket to New York City.
He was the president of a large manufacturing company based in
Chicago. He came to New York City four times a year for meetings
with the investment bankers who handled his company's stock on
the exchange. He had a happy home life in suburban Chicago with
his wife and two children, but he liked to have a little fun when he
was traveling. He did not want the hassle of keeping a mistress or
girlfriend somewhere, so he relied on call-girls for his fun. It was all
very straightforward.
I was also very curious about why he would want someone like
me. The answer to that was quite straightforward too. Dan had
a rather normal wife with whom he had a normal and active sex
life, but he also had a taste for the exotic and unusual as well. He
always looked for something he could not find at home. He had gone
through a few homosexual experiences when he was in college, but
he was not overtly homosexual himself. He just liked the excitement
that being able to fondle a cock under a skirt gave him. He would
not have openly dated another man, but dating a pre-op transexual
like me allowed him the cover of looking like he was with a woman
in places he liked to go while still knowing that he would have the
pleasure that feeling my little penis would give him later. He liked
200____Bobbi's_Story___________________________________________________________
places like The Rainbow Room very much, and with someone like me,
he could be seen by people who knew him without fear of ruining his
reputation. That was all fine with me. I liked being there with him,
and what was to happen later would be fun too. I made up my mind
to just relax, and enjoy the evening.
"Would you care to dance?," Dan asked after the waiter took our
dinner order. "Yes," I replied demurely. "I'd like that very much."
He held me very close as we glided slowly across the dance floor. He
was a good dancer, and plainly enjoyed dancing a lot. It felt good
to be in his arms that way. I could feel the sexual excitement of the
evening growing with every step, and my little penis twitched a bit
in its tuck in my panties when Dan slid his hand down to cop a quick
feel of my ass while we danced. This was definitely shaping up as a
fun evening.
Dinner was wonderful too. Dan had taken the initiative, and
ordered Fillet Mignon for two, and a good French wine to go with
it. He was soft spoken in many ways, but he was also very much in
charge of things at the same time. I liked that too. The beginnings
of the Women's Liberation movement were in full swing back then,
but I was not much into them at that time. I was not about to burn
my bras. I was trying too hard to get into them! I liked then, and I
still like now, a man to take charge. I wanted to be all the woman
I could be in this life, and I liked the traditional ways that a man
would treat a woman. I liked that Dan treated me that way.
We danced a bit more after dinner, and as the music died, Dan
said, "It's a little after ten. Shall we go back to the hotel?" That was
all right with me. I was enjoying the date, but I was also curious to
find out what he would be like in bed. He paid the cheque, and we
were soon back in the limousine on our way back to his hotel room
so I could finish the job I had been hired for.
"William," Dan said into the limousine intercom after we had
gotten in. "Take us up through Central Park for about half an hour
before we get to the hotel." William's voice on the intercom just said,
SIZE LIMIT (48K) EXCEEDED!!!
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