It's Saturday night and I'm hanging out with the girls on stools at the back of the bar. We trade stories and gossip, sipping beer through straws and watching the boys in leather around the bar.
A boy with a long, slender body, wavy, shoulder-length black hair and Mediterranean blue eyes asks me to dance. He's in his late 20s, maybe 30.
I dance slow, close and tight to my partner. He smiles, his gaze fixed on my breasts. I close my eyes and sway my arms up over my head.
Afterwards he buys me a beer. He says his name is Jack and he thinks I'm cute.
"It's definitely a look," he says. "I like it. You don't try to hide anything. Sort of boy-meets-girl, but not really."
I laugh. "Nice line."
"Well, it's not often you see a cute bald guy in drag. You're not even trying to pass. You look great."
"Thanks." I take a sip of my beer.
"Are you sticking with your girlfriends tonight?"
I pause. "Maybe."
Jack grins and runs his finger up and down the arm of my satin blouse. He leans into me, pressing his body close. "What's your name?" His voice is quiet and firm.
I whisper in his ear. "Zoé. It means life in Greek." He smiles.
"Well, Zoé, I think you're pretty sexy for a bald guy in a skirt." He lifts his beer to his lips, chugs it and grins. "Do you want to stay for another beer or go someplace else?"
I lean back against the wall and shrug. He presses himself onto me. Breathing into my face, he whispers, "I love your tits," and grabs my wrist. "Come on, let's go."
His place is just up the street. He leads me through a side door to a narrow stairway. I follow him up, slapping his tight leather butt as he leads the way.
Inside his apartment, I say, "So, you don't think I can pass?"
He turns, grabs my shoulders and slams me hard against the wall, crushing his pelvis into my groin. "No, I don't," he says.
His fingers squeeze the sides of my cheeks as he tries to force his tongue between my teeth. I resist, then relax and kiss him back. Our tongues roll around each other's mouths. He pulls away, laughing, "You fucking bitch," and falls back onto the bed.
I jump on his chest, pinning his arms under my legs, riding him up and down as I smash my hips into his pelvis. I stop and unpin his arms. He stiffens his body and with one heave I'm flying through the air off the bed, landing roughly on the wooden floor. He follows, tumbling off the bed, growling and biting like a wild dog, tearing at my clothes, ripping the buttons on my blouse.
He stops, lying on his back, eyes staring straight up. I stand up and begin to sway back and forth. I take off my blouse and drop it on his groin, remove my bra and breast forms and let them fall to his chest.
I unzip my skirt and drop it on his face, step away and sit on the edge of the bed. He pulls both hands over his face, breathing deeply into my skirt. After several breaths he stands up and unbuttons his leather pants.
He's firm and erect and leads it to my mouth. I open and take him full, deep inside. He withdraws and pushes me back onto the bed as he steps out of his leathers.
"Turn over, bitch," he commands. I flip onto my stomach. "Get on your knees." I raise myself up, my head in his pillow. I can feel his rough hands on my back as he rips my garter and panties down my thighs. I flinch.
"Relax," he says. His warm drool falls into the crack of my ass. He pushes his fingers in and out of my hole, two, three, four at a time. I want him to go slow. Then he pounds into me. I cry out, sucking in air.
"Come on, bitch, relax." He thrusts deeper inside, wanting satisfaction. I feel him slipping away from me. His thrusts grow faster. He's finding what he needs, disappearing in his own pleasure.
Our worlds disconnect, separate from one another. He cums as he pulls out and away. I groan under his release, empty of pleasure of my own. He pushes me down onto the bed and falls beside me, not moving or speaking. I turn my back to him and hold the pillow between my legs. We don't say another word.
When I open my eyes, Jack is asleep. I move away from him and quietly gather up my things. He rolls over. "Are you leaving?"
"Yeah, I think I should go."
He watches me get dressed. "Maybe we'll meet again sometime."
"Yeah," I say. "Maybe."