When the photographer asked Cinny to shave her head for the photoshoot, she said, “Anything for art.” She looked quite nice bald, it helped focus attention on her eyes, which were as alluring as her toned slender body. The photos are outstanding, edgy and provocative.

Six weeks later her hair was growing out and she had developed a very impish Tomboy look. One Saturday night in October, she told me she wanted to go out as a man. That sounded like it could be interesting, so I agreed. We used an Ace bandage to flatten her boobs and got her a passable mustache from a Halloween store. She put on one of my sports jackets and we were ready to go. She looked good, like a slender young man with maybe a hint of pretty boy effeminate features. The oversized jacket worked in the big shoulders eighties fashion ethic.

 We walked down State Street amidst the usual Saturday night crowd of strollers, movie goers, and ne’er-do-well party people. As she normally does when we are out in public, she reached over to hold my hand. I playfully pushed it away and told her, “Uh huh, we are two dudes out on the town, we don’t hold hands.” She giggled, covered her mouth to control the laughter, and we kept walking—like dudes.

When we made it to the lower end of the State Street, Old Town, where it gets a little seedier and dangerous, we went into an off-street bar, the Wild Cat, for a drink or two. We were lucky and found an open two top in the back. The cocktail waitress, a pretty in a kind of retro Betty Bop way and sporting a bowling shirt embroidered with the name Tom, took our drink order. We sat across from each other, just two dudes out on the town.

Throughout the course of the evening “Tom” became progressively friendlier and more flirtatious with Cinny. Initially the attention embarrassed her, but she warmed to it and started flirting back. I’m not sure if Tom saw through the disguise or not, but by the end of the evening, I’m sure if Cinny had asked for her number, the waitress would have given it up. She might have been willing to give up a lot more, but it was late and we still had to walk home back up the street.

After midnight the street crowd really thins out. The storefronts are dark and shadowed and the only people remaining were late night revelers like ourselves. People who had enjoyed an adult beverage or two, some maybe one too many. About halfway home, three attractive lovelies stumbled out of a bar in a drunken clutch, hanging on to each other for support and laughing uproariously. They were dressed to impress, and the long evening of drinking and partying had frayed things around the edges and now they looked a little disheveled and slutty. A fine look, if you ask me.

I realized I knew one of the girls, Michelle, she was an ex-girlfriend, and we recognized each other at about the same time. She broke from her friends, weaved over to me and threw her arms around my neck. “How are you Nick Stone?” she slurred. Before I could answer her mouth was on mine and she was all lipstick, teeth, and alcohol breath pushing her sloppy tongue into my mouth. I could feel Cinny watching. I could see her out of the corner of my eye, frozen not knowing how to react to this scene as just another guy. I let the kiss go on maybe a beat too long and then pushed Michelle away. “Michelle, you’re drunk. Sober up,” I called out as Cinny and I continued our walk home.

I could tell Cinny was perplexed, not quite sure how to handle what had just happened. She has a jealous streak and is a little possessive. I could tell, the kiss hurt her just a little bit. I thought it was hilarious and was doing my best not to bend over double laughing.

Suddenly she reached out and grabbed my hand. “I’m done being a dude. The rest of the way home, we are just going to be a happy gay couple,” she proclaimed. This didn’t help with my laughter, but I went along with it and was eventually able to get control of my chuckles. When we were just short of our turn off block, I asked Cinny, “Do you really want to carry out this happy gay couple thing?”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

By way of answer, I pushed her into the entryway of a business that had gone under. It was shadowed and we were 10 to 15 feet off the sidewalk. I kissed her forcefully and then pushed her to her knees. I told her, “Take out my cock.” She unzipped my pants and took it out. I was already hard and the head of my cock was wet with seeping precum. I could see the occasional late-night strollers walking by, but most had their heads down and were purposefully headed home or to find misplaced cars. No one was looking into the darkened abandoned storefront, where two homos were about to have sex.

I don’t know what it was, the cross dressing, “Tom” hitting on her at the bar, Michelle assaulting my mouth with her face, acting out a homo erotic fantasy in public, probably all of it, but Cinny took my eager twitching cock into her mouth with a ferocious hunger. Her mouth was aggressive, wet and warm. It didn’t take long for me to unload a desire that had been building all night into her hungry mouth.

I held her face pressed against my crotch until my cock returned to normal size. Then I lifted her back onto her feet and kissed the remaining cum out of her mouth. After that it was a pleasant walk home. Just a happy gay couple returning home for the night.