“Oh, ya!”
“Um, then why is, uh, it so soft and not hard?”
“I don't know! The doctor said I was in perfect condition and everything was fine. It's all there in my chart.” Bob wasn't going to be denied and wickedly said, “Okay, baby lay down and I'll see how this stick shift can handle your curves as I drive it into the tunnel!”
Jennifer giggled and jumped onto the bed. Licking her fingers she slipped them between her pussy lips and opened herself to him. He climbed on top of her and positioned himself and rammed his body onto hers and moaned, “How about that?”
“Um, honey, do you know what an accordion is?”
Bob nodded yes.
“Well your penis just turned into an accordion.”
The entire night became an experiment in frustration. No matter what they did nothing worked. Oral sex, doggy style, honey, masturbation, her on top, him on top, porno movies, the sheep, the hand puppets, nothing they tried helped. At about 3:30 in the morning Jennifer had given up. She was exhausted and frustrated. Her ultimate fantasy turned into a fucked-up, twilight zone nightmare.
“Baby, I don't know what's wrong. Maybe it's just because of the transplant. Hand me that chart in my briefcase.” Jennifer handed him the medical records and he was reading through them when he came to the release forms that had been signed by Tyrone, the organ donor. As he read the charts a look of horror struck his face.
“What is it?” she asked.
Bob handed her the chart and she began to read aloud, “Tyrone has, by far, the worst case of impotence I have ever encountered in my 30 years of experience. No treatment, medications or surgery has helped him. My best recommendation is for him to become a monk.”
* * * * *
The Cross Dresser
“Hey, how about going out for a drink after work, Marsha?”
“No, Eric. It’s been a long day and I just want to go home and crawl into a hot bath with a bottle of wine,” she said. Marsha acted overly tired so as not to hurt his feelings since it was his first week.
Eric shrugged off the refusal then smiled after her comment. “Need any help?” Eric asked, pepping up quickly.
“Ha, Ha,” she replied while walking away.
Marsha undressed from work while she looked into her closet for something comfortable to put on. Amongst her vast array of business and formal wear was some men’s clothing she had gathered from past boyfriends and overnight liaisons she’d met and basically used for companionship and sex. She slipped out of her heels and let her skirt fall to the ground. Damn that crap is so uncomfortable.
She wiggled her toes and gazed at a sport coat hanging in the corner. As she put it on she could still smell the faint fragrance of cologne in the fabric. Nathan, this was Nathan’s, she remembered fondly as she smiled and licked her lips. It fit loosely, but it looked rather stylish. So she tore through her closet and drawers looking for something to match the jacket. Good thing brown is an easy color to match, she thought.
She stared into the mirror and thought, Shit, I look pretty damn good for a guy! The sports bra held her breasts tight to her so with all the layers she could pass for being a guy.
There was something missing. Oh yes! She rolled up a couple socks and tucked them into her pants to give the illusion of being a man. Of course, the bulge in her pants reminded her of a man she knew. He had a HUGE bulge, and knew how to use it!
Damn, keeping this thing straight is a bitch! No wonder guys are always adjusting themselves. The finishing touch was a Stetson cowboy hat with her hair tucked in. Then, never being one to shy away from a new experience, Marsha was out the door to the local hot spot to see if she could pull this off.
At the club Marsha blended in nicely. Probably better than expected. At the end of the bar was an attractive woman staring at her. She was very tall but slender with shoulder-length hair and wearing a sporty dress and cowboy boots—pretty cute. She looked like someo
ne she might have seen before shopping or something.
Now she’d never thought about this situation. At first Marsha was a little uncomfortable but at the same time it was a little exciting.
“You wanna dance?” the woman asked.
“Uh, sure,” Marsha replied, trying to lower her voice.
After a couple of line dances and a few Jack Daniel’s, ‘Mark’ was feeling a lot better. As the ‘Boot Scoot Boogie’ ended they started to play Toby Keith’s new slow ballad and the woman, whose name was Erica, grabbed her to slow dance. She grabbed her tightly to keep the charade going but wasn’t sure if the woman would notice her otherwise female features.
God, this woman is attractive and smells so good.
“You don’t talk too much, do you Mark?” Erica whispered.