Short Story
Here's a short story I wrote I'm not sure waht to call it but I'd love some feed back thanks.
When I was younger I liked to dress in my mom’s cloths when no one was home. I got off on it. It was the only way I could get close to a woman, but as I grew older I grew out of it. The last time I wore a dress was when I was fourteen. After I got laid for the first time I no longer had to pretend. I became obsessed with women. I loved them all, but there was one I loved more then any of them. Her name was Telly, and she was stunning. For me it was love at first sight, but for her I was a meal ticket. I gave her all my love and she repaid me wit a shit load of debt. Bills, food, cloths, rent. She repaid me by sucking my wallet dry. For two years I paid her way through life. For two fucking year, but I didn’t mind cause I was in love. Everything was fine by me ’til my money dried up. I told Telly I was broke. I wouldn’t be able to help her out like I was. I even asked her to spot me a few bucks. If you could have seen her face. She hit the fucking ceiling. There was a huge fight. She trashed my place. She called me everything from worthless to fucking ass licker. She left in a huff swearing to never step foot in my life again, and she added a threat to that saying if I ever came near her she’d cut my dick off. My heart was broken. My wallet empty, and my life in pieces. The second the door shut it all came out. Tears flowed as I cursed Telly’s name, and the whole world with it. I locked myself in the bedroom ignoring calls from bill collectors and friends I had bummed cash from. I stayed in my bed for four days with my face pressed against the wall. I sated down in the crack between the bed and wall. It was there through my tears, and sobbing that I found salvation. Laying on the floor in-between the bed and wall was a black laced bra. Telly’s black laced bra. I reached into the small space with a trembling hand, and pulled out the underwear. In my hand I held the only piece of Telly I had left. In my hand I held the key to get her back. Without even thinking I stripped my shirt off, and swung the bra straps over my shoulders. It had been so long, but I still remembered how to hook it perfectly. The bra smelled of Telly. He designer perfume, and French cigarettes. I rubbed my chest, and it was like I was rubbing her again. I p inched my nipples which in my mine where hers. I had Telly again, but not all of her. The high of the bra wore off after I came, and then I was back at square one. I needed more; I needed it to last longer. Maybe forever.
In the next few months I built myself quite the nice little wardrobe from second hand thrift stores and outlet malls. Minis, fishnets, stockings, Thongs, bras, boots, dresses, Belly shirts, and low cut jeans. Then there was all the makeup. I even took up smoking the same kind of French cigarettes Telly smoked. Every night I became her for a few hours, and in doing so I had her with me again the way it was meant to be. I would stand in front of the mirror smoking a cigarette and rubbing myself. I would ask myself, I’d ask Telly. “Do you want me?”
“Do you need me?” And in her sexy high pitched voice she’d reply “Make love to me” Then for then ext thirty minutes or however long I could last I would make sweet love to the girl of my dreams. I had never felt better not even when we were really together it was like some magical drug, but like any drug the more you abuse it the less the effects. I needed something stronger. I needed this relationship to be real. I need us to do things as a couple. I started renting videos or going grocery shopping as Telly, but only at night. The more things I did as her the more I felt we were together.
Staying in was nice, but it really wasn’t Telly it was more my thing. What she liked to do was go out have a few drinks, and dance. There was this nightclub she loved called “The Royal flush room.” She never let me go with her she said only the elite were allowed in. She said I was too plain, and not attractive enough for that scene. I did my makeup and dressed in my tightest slutiest outfit just like Telly would have then I went to party. The music was Euro trance, Telly’s favorite. I was more of a classical jazz kind of guy, but anything for her. We danced to the same song for what could have been forever, and most likely would have been if Telly hadn’t got thirsty. At the bar I sat twirling my hair, and sipping a martini. I was never much of a drinking but she inhaled that stuff like it was the blood of Christ. I was pretty much drunk by my third drink. I was all ready to leave. I never felt conferrable at places like “The Royal Flush Room.” I asked her to go, but she was having too much fun. She just kept downing martinis, so I begged, and then things got out of hand. She exploded in the middle of the club shouting, and screaming. It was the night in my apartment all over again. I fell to the floor cry as she belittled my calling me “A poor excuse for a man.” The bounce came over and asked us to leave. She just kept shouting and I kept crying. Finally the bounce removed us both from the club. Stagger out in the street I realized I had lost Telly again, but then I realized I never really had her, and it was myself I had lost. I wasn’t Telly I was just some psycho in fishnets, and a thong. I had come crashing down like any drug addict, and I had come down hard. My withdraw was the worst. Ten times worse then the original break up. I didn’t eat I didn’t sleep. My eyes grew bloodshot and my body gained a thick stench from lack of bathing. I just lied in my room naked the cloths from that night still scattered across the floor. I knew I needed help, but I didn’t know who to turn to. There was no way I could turn to family or friends not that they would have helped anyway, and I didn’t have the money for a shrike. There was only one other option, and I wasn’t all too sure about it. The Internet. It would have to have something about my situation after all it’s the World Wide Web. It wasn’t hard at all to find others like me. There were cross dressers of all sorts. Men who wanted to be woman, guys who got off on it, curious kids, and a few like me. There was one guy who had a similar problem. He was an older man in his late fifties, but he understood me. He had been hurt by women his whole life. He told me it never gets any easier. His name was Gary. Our friendship grew over the following weeks. I told him everything from how I use to dress when I was younger to how Tell used me, and dumped me. I told him how I started dressing after she left, and I told him how I went crazy. But he understood. Gary told me he had only dressed once after his second wife left him. She had left some of her cloths in the closet, and he couldn’t help himself. He said it didn’t feel right, and he always felt bad about it. He didn’t want to dress again, but sometimes he got so lonely it was all he could think about. All her cloths were packed in a box at the bottom of his closet. Some nights he said it was like they were mocking him. I told him all about my debt problems, I could tell him about anything. We became such good friends that he wanted to meet. Go out and grab a bite or something like that.
I felt like I was going to be meeting an old friend for the first time. It was kind of exciting. The restaurant was fancy. The kind of place that would have cost me my life savings just for a glass of water. I was looking for a blue blazer. I had never seen a picture of Gary before. At the front door I craned my neck as I told the hostess who I was meeting. “Gary W. Finesworth.” All the way in the back tucked in a dimly lit corner was an elderly man. His face slightly wrinkled, and framed with a pair of thick black glasses. A dark hairpiece sat crocket on his head. The hostess brought me over, and announced that Mr. Finesworth’s guest had arrived. Gary smiled greeting me by saying “we meet at last.” He motioned for me to take a seat. The hostess placed a menu in front of me smiled and walked away. I was kind of nervous. I didn’t really know to saw it was really strange. Gary just rested his chin in the palm of his hand, and smiled at me. I glanced down at the menu all the while he was just watching me. He never once took his eyes off me not ’til the food came. All through diner he was silent there was only the sound of soft jazz and Gary slurping his pasta. Every few bites he’d glance up at me and smile as I slowly ate my veal diner. I couldn’t believe this was the same guy I had spent hours talking to online. He sucked one last long saucy noodle through the gap in his teeth. He dabbed at the corners of his mouth with his napkin and then spoke. “Enjoying your meal?” He asked. He set his ford down, and sat straight up folding his arms at his chest he smiled at me waiting for me to finishing my diner. I took another bite then push my plate away thanking him for a great diner.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it” he said. He reaches his hand across the table, and placed it on mine. Gary smiled running his free hand through his fake hair “You’re a good friend” he said then he went quiet again. He seemed to be at a loss for words. I was very uneasy the whole situation was awkward I didn’t know what was going on. Gary cleared his throat, and fumbled with his words for a minute “how do I say this” he repeated several times. Then he just came out with it “I love you.” I pulled my hand away, and leaped up from the table shaking my head no. Gary slowly stood up, and tried to explain himself. “I’m not gay” he said. I was freaking out. He moved closer to me with his hands out trying to calm me down.
“Back away” I told him.
“Let me explain” he said “Please” he reached out, and grabbed my hands. I felt like running but I didn’t. Gary loved me as a person not as a man. He made a proposition. He told me to think about it. It sounded so crazy, but I agreed to give it some thought.
All night I thought about what Gary had said. I rolled over and over again in my head. The more I thought about it the less worse it sounded. I think he was on to something as crazy as it all sounded. I think he had found a solution to all my problems. The next time I talked to Gary was a week after our diner I told him I thought about it, and I told him it might just work. The only problem he told me was once I did it there was no going back. I know. He made an appointment for later that week with one of the best doctors in town. Gary was very wealthy, and promised to take care of me forever. So on a sunny Saturday morning I would go in for the first in a series of operations to make me a woman. A series of operations to make me Gary’s wife. To make me Telly. A series of operations to be with the woman I love forever.
When I was younger I liked to dress in my mom’s cloths when no one was home. I got off on it. It was the only way I could get close to a woman, but as I grew older I grew out of it. The last time I wore a dress was when I was fourteen. After I got laid for the first time I no longer had to pretend. I became obsessed with women. I loved them all, but there was one I loved more then any of them. Her name was Telly, and she was stunning. For me it was love at first sight, but for her I was a meal ticket. I gave her all my love and she repaid me wit a shit load of debt. Bills, food, cloths, rent. She repaid me by sucking my wallet dry. For two years I paid her way through life. For two fucking year, but I didn’t mind cause I was in love. Everything was fine by me ’til my money dried up. I told Telly I was broke. I wouldn’t be able to help her out like I was. I even asked her to spot me a few bucks. If you could have seen her face. She hit the fucking ceiling. There was a huge fight. She trashed my place. She called me everything from worthless to fucking ass licker. She left in a huff swearing to never step foot in my life again, and she added a threat to that saying if I ever came near her she’d cut my dick off. My heart was broken. My wallet empty, and my life in pieces. The second the door shut it all came out. Tears flowed as I cursed Telly’s name, and the whole world with it. I locked myself in the bedroom ignoring calls from bill collectors and friends I had bummed cash from. I stayed in my bed for four days with my face pressed against the wall. I sated down in the crack between the bed and wall. It was there through my tears, and sobbing that I found salvation. Laying on the floor in-between the bed and wall was a black laced bra. Telly’s black laced bra. I reached into the small space with a trembling hand, and pulled out the underwear. In my hand I held the only piece of Telly I had left. In my hand I held the key to get her back. Without even thinking I stripped my shirt off, and swung the bra straps over my shoulders. It had been so long, but I still remembered how to hook it perfectly. The bra smelled of Telly. He designer perfume, and French cigarettes. I rubbed my chest, and it was like I was rubbing her again. I p inched my nipples which in my mine where hers. I had Telly again, but not all of her. The high of the bra wore off after I came, and then I was back at square one. I needed more; I needed it to last longer. Maybe forever.
In the next few months I built myself quite the nice little wardrobe from second hand thrift stores and outlet malls. Minis, fishnets, stockings, Thongs, bras, boots, dresses, Belly shirts, and low cut jeans. Then there was all the makeup. I even took up smoking the same kind of French cigarettes Telly smoked. Every night I became her for a few hours, and in doing so I had her with me again the way it was meant to be. I would stand in front of the mirror smoking a cigarette and rubbing myself. I would ask myself, I’d ask Telly. “Do you want me?”
“Do you need me?” And in her sexy high pitched voice she’d reply “Make love to me” Then for then ext thirty minutes or however long I could last I would make sweet love to the girl of my dreams. I had never felt better not even when we were really together it was like some magical drug, but like any drug the more you abuse it the less the effects. I needed something stronger. I needed this relationship to be real. I need us to do things as a couple. I started renting videos or going grocery shopping as Telly, but only at night. The more things I did as her the more I felt we were together.
Staying in was nice, but it really wasn’t Telly it was more my thing. What she liked to do was go out have a few drinks, and dance. There was this nightclub she loved called “The Royal flush room.” She never let me go with her she said only the elite were allowed in. She said I was too plain, and not attractive enough for that scene. I did my makeup and dressed in my tightest slutiest outfit just like Telly would have then I went to party. The music was Euro trance, Telly’s favorite. I was more of a classical jazz kind of guy, but anything for her. We danced to the same song for what could have been forever, and most likely would have been if Telly hadn’t got thirsty. At the bar I sat twirling my hair, and sipping a martini. I was never much of a drinking but she inhaled that stuff like it was the blood of Christ. I was pretty much drunk by my third drink. I was all ready to leave. I never felt conferrable at places like “The Royal Flush Room.” I asked her to go, but she was having too much fun. She just kept downing martinis, so I begged, and then things got out of hand. She exploded in the middle of the club shouting, and screaming. It was the night in my apartment all over again. I fell to the floor cry as she belittled my calling me “A poor excuse for a man.” The bounce came over and asked us to leave. She just kept shouting and I kept crying. Finally the bounce removed us both from the club. Stagger out in the street I realized I had lost Telly again, but then I realized I never really had her, and it was myself I had lost. I wasn’t Telly I was just some psycho in fishnets, and a thong. I had come crashing down like any drug addict, and I had come down hard. My withdraw was the worst. Ten times worse then the original break up. I didn’t eat I didn’t sleep. My eyes grew bloodshot and my body gained a thick stench from lack of bathing. I just lied in my room naked the cloths from that night still scattered across the floor. I knew I needed help, but I didn’t know who to turn to. There was no way I could turn to family or friends not that they would have helped anyway, and I didn’t have the money for a shrike. There was only one other option, and I wasn’t all too sure about it. The Internet. It would have to have something about my situation after all it’s the World Wide Web. It wasn’t hard at all to find others like me. There were cross dressers of all sorts. Men who wanted to be woman, guys who got off on it, curious kids, and a few like me. There was one guy who had a similar problem. He was an older man in his late fifties, but he understood me. He had been hurt by women his whole life. He told me it never gets any easier. His name was Gary. Our friendship grew over the following weeks. I told him everything from how I use to dress when I was younger to how Tell used me, and dumped me. I told him how I started dressing after she left, and I told him how I went crazy. But he understood. Gary told me he had only dressed once after his second wife left him. She had left some of her cloths in the closet, and he couldn’t help himself. He said it didn’t feel right, and he always felt bad about it. He didn’t want to dress again, but sometimes he got so lonely it was all he could think about. All her cloths were packed in a box at the bottom of his closet. Some nights he said it was like they were mocking him. I told him all about my debt problems, I could tell him about anything. We became such good friends that he wanted to meet. Go out and grab a bite or something like that.
I felt like I was going to be meeting an old friend for the first time. It was kind of exciting. The restaurant was fancy. The kind of place that would have cost me my life savings just for a glass of water. I was looking for a blue blazer. I had never seen a picture of Gary before. At the front door I craned my neck as I told the hostess who I was meeting. “Gary W. Finesworth.” All the way in the back tucked in a dimly lit corner was an elderly man. His face slightly wrinkled, and framed with a pair of thick black glasses. A dark hairpiece sat crocket on his head. The hostess brought me over, and announced that Mr. Finesworth’s guest had arrived. Gary smiled greeting me by saying “we meet at last.” He motioned for me to take a seat. The hostess placed a menu in front of me smiled and walked away. I was kind of nervous. I didn’t really know to saw it was really strange. Gary just rested his chin in the palm of his hand, and smiled at me. I glanced down at the menu all the while he was just watching me. He never once took his eyes off me not ’til the food came. All through diner he was silent there was only the sound of soft jazz and Gary slurping his pasta. Every few bites he’d glance up at me and smile as I slowly ate my veal diner. I couldn’t believe this was the same guy I had spent hours talking to online. He sucked one last long saucy noodle through the gap in his teeth. He dabbed at the corners of his mouth with his napkin and then spoke. “Enjoying your meal?” He asked. He set his ford down, and sat straight up folding his arms at his chest he smiled at me waiting for me to finishing my diner. I took another bite then push my plate away thanking him for a great diner.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it” he said. He reaches his hand across the table, and placed it on mine. Gary smiled running his free hand through his fake hair “You’re a good friend” he said then he went quiet again. He seemed to be at a loss for words. I was very uneasy the whole situation was awkward I didn’t know what was going on. Gary cleared his throat, and fumbled with his words for a minute “how do I say this” he repeated several times. Then he just came out with it “I love you.” I pulled my hand away, and leaped up from the table shaking my head no. Gary slowly stood up, and tried to explain himself. “I’m not gay” he said. I was freaking out. He moved closer to me with his hands out trying to calm me down.
“Back away” I told him.
“Let me explain” he said “Please” he reached out, and grabbed my hands. I felt like running but I didn’t. Gary loved me as a person not as a man. He made a proposition. He told me to think about it. It sounded so crazy, but I agreed to give it some thought.
All night I thought about what Gary had said. I rolled over and over again in my head. The more I thought about it the less worse it sounded. I think he was on to something as crazy as it all sounded. I think he had found a solution to all my problems. The next time I talked to Gary was a week after our diner I told him I thought about it, and I told him it might just work. The only problem he told me was once I did it there was no going back. I know. He made an appointment for later that week with one of the best doctors in town. Gary was very wealthy, and promised to take care of me forever. So on a sunny Saturday morning I would go in for the first in a series of operations to make me a woman. A series of operations to make me Gary’s wife. To make me Telly. A series of operations to be with the woman I love forever.