Sissy Godiva (12 page)

want to do. Whoever, whatever, you love whoever you want because I love you, too.”
My eyes instantly got wet and I ran to the bed and fell onto her, weeping but very happy, too.
God, did I love Mom!
She hugged me and we both wept happily, sniffling, talking about our past, our dreams and hopes for the future, until I wiped my joyous tears and finally left her room and went into mine.
I was ecstatically happy!
I always kept the curtains drawn but Mom had opened them earlier in the day to let in the sunlight. I drew them closed and turned on the light. Mom had always tried to cheer up the room by opening the window or sometimes bringing in some flowers, though I always took them back out again. “It’s my allergies, Mom,” I’d protest, pretending to sniffle. “What allergies?” she’d pout, but she never bothered to put them back.
I’d sure act differently from now on!
I shook my head.
I’d been such an asshole about things!
I took my shoes and shirt off and started pulling off my jeans.
Holy shit, I forgot I had the pink leggings on!
I stood in front of my big mirror and leered at myself, impressed with the way my huge hard-on looked in them.
Had I gotten hard from seeing the leggings, or had I been hard the whole time I’d walked home in them?
Damn. I grabbed my stiff dick and fell into my chair.
Ow! Holy shit, what the fuck was that?
A pain shot through me, like a big dick tearing into me. I grimaced. Daddy’s big dick, I knew, his memory was in me for all time.
We never forget the first one, do we, especially if it was as big as Daddy’s! The first ones will fuck us forever, at least in our memories.
I straightened myself and inched over to the bed.
Man, fucked in the ass by Big Daddy! I felt myself redden. And I liked it, too! Oh, don’t be ridiculous, I told myself. But I have to admit it wasn’t really that painful. Unbearable pressure, but then the bursting through to a new and beautiful manhood. What could be better than that?
I stroked the outline of my cock in the leggings. Tonya was sweet, I knew, giving me her leggings. I wished I could fuck her in the ass as well, besides doing it to Big Daddy—
all fuckers or fuckee wannabes
. I smirked and squeezed my cock and almost instantly shot out.
Where? Into my leggings!
The splotch of scum bubbled in the pink crotch. I didn’t care. I rubbed my fingers in it, spreading the sticky moisture. A nice scent rose to my nostrils, mingled perfume, sweat, and scum. I licked my fingers. One lick and another, and then I was reaching for more scum so I could lick that, too.
It was delicious!
I finally slept.
“Vinnie!” Mom was shouting so I could hear, but I couldn’t figure out what she was saying. “Vinnie,
pink
? You wear
pink
now?”
My eyes opened wide. I was lying in bed and Mom was standing at the foot, but she had her hands up to her face. I realized I was still in my pink leggings. I felt myself turn red.
“Oh, Vinnie,” she said, sounding defeated. “
Pink.
”
I sat up, realizing that I was hard.
I tried to cover myself. “Mr. Polsky suggested I wear them.” I was lying. Polsky was the sports coach back in high school, a big brute of a man I sometimes saw on the street. But all the students knew he was a pussy fag once he got you in his clutches. “You know how big I am, Mom,” I lowered my eyes. “It’s embarrassing sometimes.”
I wasn’t any bigger than other boys my age.
“Yes, but pink? Didn’t he have any other color?”
“No, Mom,” I shook my head. “The big boys in the football squad took those. All he had left was this fruity color.”
Mom looked at me and shook her head.
“I don’t know about Polsky, he is one strange man.” She looked at my erection, turning red. “Well, as long as you wear your jeans over them, I suppose they’ll do.”
I nodded and said, “Why were you in my room, anyway? Looking for something?”
“No. I heard you talking in your sleep, sounded very bothered. Thought I’d see what was wrong.”
“I was?”
She nodded.
“Uh-huh. Well.” She got even redder.
I wondered what I’d been saying. Something perversely sexual?
“Good, that’s over with,” she said. “But sleep is sleep; I can’t remember much when I get up.” She checked her watch. “Oh, my, look at time. Have to get ready for work.”
She left my room, shutting the door behind her. I started to lie back down, then winced, a pain drilling deep in my ass. I lay back down, but I didn’t think I’d be able to stay in bed much longer. I heard Mom run the shower and turned over. I yawned and when I opened my eyes again it was an hour later. I’d slept again and felt pretty good.
Shit, but why had I mentioned Mr. Polsky to Mom? He was a closet fag that most of the students kept away from unless they were “on his team”—football players, my ass! Many of them did wear leggings for their brawny physiques, but they’d wear black or brown or even white, certainly not faggoty pink. A guy wearing pink meant one thing, that he was a fag, a sissy boy who took it up the ass and liked it, too.
Liked it? No, I loved it!
I came again without even touching myself, the semen wetting the left side my leggings. A beautiful mood swept over me, making me feel relaxed. I hadn’t touched myself, hadn’t done anything but think of big Mr. Polsky.
But why was I thinking about Kid Paulie, too? They looked alike, didn’t they? Paulie and Polsky. Oh, fuck those assholes!
I sighed, caught up in my beautiful feelings and looking at the lovely splotch on the pink leggings. I frowned; I couldn’t go out with them looking like this. Sure, I’d be wearing jeans, but still.
I sat up and pulled the leggings off. They were Spandex and wouldn’t take long to dry, I thought. I felt happy and went into the kitchen, taking the box of Tide detergent from under the sink. I took a whiff of the leggings. Did a barely discernible fragrance still emanate from them, or was that my own lustful imagination? I filled the wash basin with water, sprinkled some Tide in and put the leggings in. The moisture saturating the material made me think of someone cuming in them and lying on his stomach to spread the moisture. Where did these sexual feelings come from? I was holding a garment meant for a woman, but the “woman” who was supposed to be wearing them had turned out to be a male.
Was I a woman? Was I a man?
I picked up the leggings, ran the soiled water out of the basin and refilled it with fresh water. What would Mom think if she saw me washing these leggings? I never picked up after myself and here I was, Little Miss Homemaker, washing clothes. I felt myself blush. I really was a sissy, wasn’t I? I rinsed the leggings and squeezed them dry, then took them into my room. I set them to dry on the open window in the sunlight. I felt good. That was one good deed I did today. I dropped onto the bed looking at the leggings, then slowly squeezed my hard dick. Jerking off while looking at my leggings, who’d think you’d get aroused at that? But I certainly was aroused—I was stiff as hell!
I shook my head to break the spell and got up from the bed, walked around a bit. My ass wasn’t too bad. Just a memory of something huge drilling into me, an almost comfortable feeling. I went back to the window and, holy shit, the leggings had almost dried!
I smiled. Sissy Godiva, I’m a-cuming!

Another sunny day, but not as humid as the last few days; comfortably warm instead of unbearably oppressive. Hot summers in New York are like that, full of surprises, which I like, anyway.

I went to Tompkins Square Park, slowly making my way toward Avenue B, where Sissy said she’d be. She was late, as usual. A few people sat around reading newspapers or just staring into space. I was planning to sit on the bench where I’d met her, but a tall old man sat there, holding his cane and looking at the people. Except for the cane, he reminded me of Pips.
Wonder what he looks like naked?
I felt myself blush as I approached. I nodded “good morning” and sat on the bench with him. He nodded back at me.

I smiled. “A perfect day couldn’t be any better.” I was talkative this morning! I didn’t usually say anything to someone just yapping at me. I wasn’t only a sissy, I was a chattering one, too! “I sure am enjoying the lovely weather. You?” I winked at him and he winked back.

“Yes,” he agreed. “Extremely nice day, and about time, too. It was too hot for days on end. Much better now.”
Ah-ha, so he was very talkative, too!
“Have to meet my, um,
girlfriend
.” I felt myself blush as I looked around, “I guess she’ll be here soon.” I winked again. “You know how girls are, always late.” I smiled at him, and he smiled back.
“Girls, boys,” he sighed. “I’m too old for all that. All I can do is look and dream,” he said.
I nodded at him when I saw Sissy Godiva coming from Avenue B, Kid Paulie walking beside her. And not just not walking together, holding hands!
God, what the fuck was that all about?
They came toward me, Sissy blushing and Paulie looking right at me. I noticed the tall man sitting next to me was blushing, too.
“Tsk, tsk, picking up young boys, Sidney?” Sissy said. She’d turned red and was shaking her head. “I thought you didn’t do that anymore? Sidney, Sidney, what can we do with you?”
I narrowed my eyes at her. It was obvious that she knew the man I was sitting next to, but what the hell was Paulie doing strutting beside her and holding hands with her like they were lovers?
What the fuck was that about?
“Paulie had an awakening,” she said, turning to me, “after his dad tried to beat him and his mother up. Isn’t that right, Paulie?” She tugged Paulie’s arm up and down. Paulie shrugged.
“Hey, I’m sorry, I was such a shmuck,” Paulie said to me, though he sounded boastful. “Life on the Lower East Side, you know how it is. It isn’t always pretty, coaches and weird people. But you know that.”
Damn, horny Mr. Polsky; Paulie must have been one of his boys.
I nodded, shrugging at him.
“His dad’s in jail for beating up some cops,” Sissy explained. “His mom’s at the hospital from the beating he gave her. When I got home last night, Paulie was sitting on the stairs, crying. My heart went out to him.” She looked up at him. I could see the fascination in her eyes. Kid Paulie just smiled and nodded, as if he was a shy little boy.
What rot!
“She took me to her apartment,” Paulie confessed, “where we made love.” He said this like he was boasting, then stooped down and kissed her.
Was that his first time, I wondered. I knew it wasn’t hers, that’s for sure.
She kissed him back and giggled. He was feeling her up, his hands all over her body.
“Paulie,” she shrieked, “I told you I don’t make out in front of people.”
I knew
that
was a lie!
But Paulie wouldn’t let go of her and drew her to him.
I watched them and felt beaten. My yearning for Sissy was defeated, laid to waste. Whatever I had wanted was meaningless now. The girl of my dreams—or boy, I should say— was taken by my worst enemy, Kid Paulie. He’d come right out of the closet and just taken what he wanted, as always, simply because it was there for the taking.
He was Sissy’s boyfriend now, and I wasn’t. What could I do about it? A big, fat nothing!
I winced. Paulie and Sissy held each other tight, giggling and kissing. I thought there would be a terrible scene if she ever got bored and tried to let him go. Or maybe there wouldn’t. Perhaps Paulie was a
real
wimp, a
real
sissy who’d been faking his toughness all along. I watched them as Sissy started to resist Paulie’s advances.
“What have I gotten into?” she giggled, but I saw the lust in her eyes. Paulie grabbed for her again and she shrieked, “Paulie, stop it! Be a good boy or I won’t take you anywhere.” She looked bashfully at me, but I saw that she liked it, drawing attention to herself. I suppose they were made for each other. But who knew?
A suddenly compliant Paulie bowed his head. I knew it was nothing but a strategic move to lower her defenses. He’d start pawing her again, but she wanted that, anyway. She let Kid Paulie hold her and giggled and squirmed.
“Oh, by the way, Sidney,” she said. “Vinnie is the boy who carried me out of that fire last year in Pips’ building. He lived right next door to Pips,” she added, then brushed Paulie’s arm away as he grabbed at her.
Sidney’s wide eyes looked disbelievingly at me.
“You lived with Mr. Phillips? Amazing!”
“No, no,” I said. “Not
with
him, just next door. We were neighbors.”
Sissy shrugged. “They could have been living together. They were close friends.”
I glared at her. She didn’t know what the fuck she was saying, the stinking bitch.
“But you knew Mr. Phillips?” Sidney continued. “Wonderful! What a charming, gay fellow he was. I knew him very well, too.” His eyes were dreamy, looking into himself and his memories.
Sissy winked at me. “Gay fellow?” she pondered, “I think
all
these old birds were gay. They knew each other from the old Greenwich Village days, when they’d jerk off together.” She shrugged and didn’t resist as Paulie moved behind her and stroked her ass. “But it takes all kinds,” she continued, “don’t it? Sidney says he’s bisexual, if there is such a thing, that he can do it with any sex, male or female. I don’t know about that, because male sex is all I ever wanted. But male sex is doing
something,
not just jerking off at each other. Isn’t that right, Sidney?”
By the time she’d finished her little speech, Paulie was bending her over and shoving his hips behind her. They looked like two fucking dogs. Sissy shrieked and got out of his way.
“You bastard, don’t do that!” she said, fixing her hair and waving Paulie away.
“You little cunt,” Paulie leered at her. “You’re gonna get my hard dick up your ass, just like you begged me all night, you slut.”
Sissy was avoiding looking at me, but I realized I didn’t really care. I loved Sissy the way she loved all the men that came into her life. Fickleness was in the air whenever she was around, fickle sexual playfulness. You get what you can from her, then you go off to another. That’s the way things are in this era of free love. Relationships are easy as pie, all you have to do is watch out for any pips.
I laughed. Pips! Just what we’d called Mr. Phillips!
“What’s so funny, you bastard?” Sissy glared at me, shoving Kid Paulie off her again.
I smirked to myself.
“You should introduce him to Big Daddy. He has something big enough for both of you.”
Sissy’s eyes widened.
“Hey, that’s right,” she said, leering at Paulie. “Wait till you meet Tonya for real! Her big boobs will knock the shit out of you! They’re
whoppers!”
Kid Paulie stared open-mouthed as she winked at us, pulled Paulie after her and left the park, catching a cab. I assumed they were going to Greenwich Village, where they’d find Big Daddy just waiting for them. I smirked.
Wonder how Kid Paulie will take it up the ass?
“That girl is silly,” Sidney said, shaking his head as he watched them go. “I don’t know what anyone sees in her. All that nutty action leads nowhere.” We studied each other. “So you knew Mr. Phillips? He was a very nice man.”
“Yes, I did,” I said, feeling myself turn a bit red. “But we called him ‘Pips.’”
He waved that away. “‘Mr. Phillips’ is more respectable.”
“You know, ‘pips.’ They’re the seeds in apples, oranges, melons, and other fruity fruits.”
He looked at me, smiling. He shook his head slowly. “I used to like fruity fruits, just like Mr. Phillips.”
“Heard he was a teacher. Is that true?”
Sidney nodded.
“I used to like him, too,” I said. “He was a nice old man,” I lowered my head and looked at Sidney through my lashes. “One of the best I’ve ever had.”
“What do you mean, you
had
him?” he said right away. “Explain.”
I cleared my throat.
If he knows Sissy, he must know a lot of things about her. Might as well find out.
“Well, I used to get together with old Pips and we used to, um,
satisfy
ourselves.” I looked around and, not seeing anyone, I whispered, “He was always jerking off. I suppose he was addicted to it.”
His eyes widened.
“Why, I did that many a time, with him doing the same. Him looking at me, me looking at him. And we wouldn’t even touch each other.”
I nodded my head eagerly. My penis was stiff in my leggings, but covered by my jeans.
“Yes, sir,” I said, nodding my head vigorously. “That’s exactly how I had him, too.”
“Really? You and Mr. Phillips?” he said, studying at me.
I nodded.
He cleared his throat. “Mr. Phillips and I, also. But, alas, there’s no one I can do that with any more. Those days are over,” he said, looking down at my crotch. I shifted slightly, my erection seeming to have gotten bigger.
Boy, I loved those leggings!
“Sometimes, when I’d get home early,” I whispered, “Pips would be waiting for me at the top of the stairs, just jerking off. I’d walk up and do the same. We’d shoot our scum across the landing at each other, then nod and say good night, each going his own way. No touching, no contact, no closeness. Just jerking off, that’s all. And you wanna know something? It was utter bliss!”
By then I was very hard, the feeling in my belly gripping me, and I exploded, cuming into my leggings. A shiver shimmered through me, and I knew there’d be a very wet spot on the leggings. My breathing was shallow.
“Are you all right?” Sidney asked, looking concerned.
“I just shot my scum,” I whispered. “Man, was I hot.”
Sidney frowned, then started talking seriously, as if he was disappointed with me.
“Young man, it’s called
sperm,
and you just ejaculated your
semen.
Not ‘shot,’ not ‘cum’ or ‘gook.’
Semen
ejaculated from your
penis,
not from your ‘prick’ or ‘cock.’” He shook his head. “Why you young people persist in using street terms is beyond me.”
Was he mad?
I smirked at him. “You sound like a teacher,” I huffed.
“Right you are, young man, like Mr. Phillips. But I was more than just a teacher, I used to be a
principal,
and I could teach
teachers
a thing or two. If I put you over my knee, you’ll
have
to learn, no two ways about it!”
He was angry. “What can
you
teach
me?”
I asked. “I think I know enough.”
“Oh, no. No, you don’t. Never say that. Each day you can discover something you didn’t know before, learn from it. Get your mind out of the gutter, it’s worthless down there.”
I looked at him. “But I grew up in the gutter,” I said, looking around the park, at the beatniks and hippies lying on the grass. “All over the Lower East Side. My life is here. This is poetry to me. I don’t need any beatnik or hippie poets telling me about life. The street is very much alive to me.” I looked at him. “It’s there for the taking.” I felt myself starting to blush. “But, hey, don’t listen to me.” I smiled, feeling embarrassed.
He smiled back, calmer now.
“You’re right, this is the
living street
. Forget what I said. Don’t listen to what an old fart principal has to complain about.” He waved his hand at me.
I felt good sitting on the bench with Sidney. He moved a little closer until our sides were pressed together. He was tall and