Sissy Godiva (5 page)

Mom got home shortly after I did, looking tired as always. But she’d gotten a half-pizza from a new shop that had just opened on St. Marks Place and 1
^st
Avenue. I’d finished one slice and started on another when she sat down.

“I’m really pooped, Vinnie,” she said, picking up her slice. “Think I’ll just go to bed.” She was eating slowly, like she could barely stay awake to finish it. “Work’s got me down. They overload us with their stupid forms and they expect us to finish. Who knows if we can or not?”

Mom worked at Metropolitan Life on 23
^rd
Street and Madison Avenue, an elegant building with a huge clock that lit up the night sky for blocks. It was nice to see it in skyline photos and know that Mom worked there—slaved, actually, for a petty salary.

Mom finished her slice. “Think I’ll just have a nice bath and get into bed.”
She cleared the pizza wrappings from the table and threw them in the trash, then went to run the water in the tub. I hurried with my second slice, knowing I could get out of the apartment that much sooner.
“Okay,” I called, “Gonna go out, Mom, see ya!” I heard her say something, but couldn’t make out the words over the sound of her splashing. I hurried across the dark hall, opened Pips’ door and shut it after me.
Whew, made it.
But the apartment was dark and quiet. The clock on the kitchen wall ticked as I made my way toward the faint glow of a lamp in the bedroom. Sissy was still lying on the bed, her arms above her head, the cute bulge of her penis looking comfortable in her leggings.
I like the way it looks, the little puff of balls and the long penis.
I blushed.
But I’m not queer!
Pips was sprawled in his chair, still holding his dick but asleep. I looked back at Sissy.
Oh, what the hell.
I pulled off my T-shirt and stepped quickly out of my shoes, undoing my pants and sliding them down. My white jockey shorts bulged with my erection, but I pulled them off and eased myself next to Sissy. She rubbed her face, half-looked at me in her sleep, then nestled closer, her hand coming to rest on my crotch. I shuffled my arm under her head and around her shoulders, then looked over at Pips. He was snoring, but very softly. His snores blended with the ticking of the clock in the kitchen. I felt very serene, peaceful, and content in that little room. If only my life could be like this forever, undisturbed and un-disturbing. I dozed off.
Pips coughed once, then twice, waking me up me to. Sissy woke up, too, and looked at him and me. Then she cursed and turned onto her other side, seeming to fall asleep again immediately.
Pips got up, coughing and gagging, and staggered from the room. I heard him peeing loudly as he hacked.
I looked at Sissy lying beside me and, though she’d turned away from me, I felt very close to her.
Was I a faggot or wasn’t I?
All my protestations of not being queer seemed just that, feeble protestations.
So what if she was a boy underneath the frilly clothes?
I adored the girly appearance she showed the world. She wasn’t boyish or macho. Her very feminine-seeming charade had become more real as I spent time with her. To me she was a real girly woman, that’s the only thing I saw in her.
Faggot? So what.
I didn’t care. She was a faggot woman and I was her faggot boyfriend, or lover, call me what you will. “
I’m not gay?” Nah, I’m Sissy’s boyfriend! Oh, yes, I am!
I pressed myself against her, pushing my erection against her tenderness, knowing her penis was just a few inches away. Rubbing against her didn’t mean anything, it was like two kids playing at making out and feeling each other up. Almost instantly the arousal of holding her against me made me erupt, spew onto her. There was no way I could’ve controlled my cuming. I melted.
The toilet flushed, the sound echoing through the pipes as the water gurgled away. I lay still, my shrinking cock sticky with my semen. I eased my hand onto my wet cock and balls, then lifted it to my face. I looked at the sticky, gooey, mess. Like paste. I stuck my tongue out, licking and tasting.
Hmm, not bad.
I licked some more. The taste surprised me. It tasted fresh, rejuvenating me, like the feeling of spring. I realized I wanted to taste another man’s semen. I was destined to be a cocksucker, no doubt about it. I looked at Sissy.
Her
cocksucker,
her
boyfriend. That’s what I was destined to become. I grinned.
I heard Pips come back to the room and pause in the doorway. I turned to him, saw him look at the traces of semen on Sissy’s leggings and lick his lips. He tottered into his seat again and began to rub his useless, tired cock. I began to rub my own wet and rising penis.
Who else would be doing what I was doing, lying naked with cock in hand as an old man, equally naked, was rubbing his own bare cock right next to a nearly naked boy/girl. A roomful of horny queers is what we were.
Yeah, and I’m not gay! Gimme a break!
I leered at him as I pulled my foreskin back, releasing my bright red cock-head. He leered right back at me as he jerked his limp cock.
What was the point of it? Constantly masturbating with only a trickle for an ejaculation? If you could even call it ejaculation.
He was staring at me openmouthed, panting, as we mirrored each other’s jacks. Then he seemed to crumple up, all twisted and groaning. I thought at first he’d finally really ejaculated—he’d been trying for hours—but he looked to be in pain.
“Help me, please—” He contorted again, now holding the side of his chest, gasping. “On the table, pills, phone number. My doctor, hurry, please—”
I sat up, my hard cock standing up, too. “You have a phone?” He didn’t answer. Sissy was still sleeping. I shook her. “Hey, Sissy, Pips is having a heart attack. Wake up!” I shook her again.
“What the fuck?” she mumbled, coming to. “I was sleeping, man!” She turned away again.
Pips’ face was contorted and very white. He crumpled in his chair, coughing and gagging.
“He needs a doctor, fast.”
She sat back up.
“Oh, he’ll be alright,” she said, getting off the bed to look at him. “Man, I got a stinkin’ headache. Pips, you okay?”
But he was bent over, his breathing sounding hoarse, and he wasn’t moving.
“Pips, you jerking-off bastard, hey, Pips!” She shook him and he fell sideways in his chair, a stream of vomit drooling from his mouth.
“Holy shit,” she shrieked, taking a step back. “I’m getting the fuck out of here, no way do I wanna be around that!” She grabbed her clothes and shoes, pulling her halter top on over her peed leggings. I was right behind her, grabbing my clothes and getting out of the apartment.

She ran along the hall and darted down the stairs before I even had a chance to close the door behind me; she was afraid. I was afraid too, but I was afraid of Mom opening the apartment door and seeing the chaos I’d surrounded myself with. But my apartment was quiet; Mom must have fallen asleep. I bolted down the dark stairs after Sissy; she was way ahead of me. A few more floors and I heard the building door being flung open, a car honking from the street outside and the door banging shut again.

I ran to the door, cursing and flying out of the building, trying to catch up with Sissy just as she turned the corner on 5
^th
Street.
“Sissy, hold on,” I shouted, panting as I ran after her. She looked back at me, then stopped and started to open a fresh pack of cigarettes—I saw she’d swiped a pack of Pips’ Newports. By the time she’d got it lit, I’d caught up to her and was trying to catch my breath. I was stooped, bracing my hands on my knees and looking up at her.
“Why are you running,” I asked, still panting. “He’s a sick old man!”
She sneered and flung the barely-smoked cigarette into the street.
“Old, my ass,” she shook he head. “Are you nuts or what? He was having a heart attack, and I sure as hell don’t want to be around that.”
We continued walking on 5
^th
Street, past Avenue A, the seedy tenements all around us.
“A heart attack? You really think so?”
“Well, maybe a stroke. Same difference.”
“A stroke? What’s a stroke?” I’d never heard that term before.
She stopped and looked at me. “You’re kidding, right?” I didn’t reply. “No, I guess you’re not,” she started walking again. “A stroke is like a heart attack but it affects your brain. A part of your brain stops working and it leaves you like a jellyfish, all wishy-washy, really useless. That’s what happened to my uncle a year and a half ago, and he still pisses and shits in his pants like a worthless baby. Ugh, it’s absolutely gross!”
At 5
^th
Street we turned onto Avenue C. A few pushcarts were still around, selling plates, beat-up lamps, other housewares. We made our way to 2
^nd
Street and Sissy stopped in front of a building. Some kids were sitting at the top of the stoop, looking down at us.
“This is my building,” Sissy said quietly, frowning up at the kids. They were thirteen, fourteen, a few years younger than us. “I’d invite you in, but my father’s probably home. Since it’s Friday he’s probably drunk.” She sighed and looked back up at the kids. “I’ll be back down after I change, in five, ten minutes. Wait for me, we’ll do something.” She winked and ran up the stairs.
At the top of the stairs a big boy, much older than the rest of the kids, probably eighteen or nineteen like us, was tossing a baseball from hand to hand. “Hey, you dick pussy,” he said, “ready to give me a blowjob?”
The three or four other boys around him howled and laughed. But Sissy must have said something to him because they shut up as she flung the door open and disappeared inside. Then they started howling again.
I turned away from them and looked down the street. The boys kept howling. Damn, I wished I was back home and away from them.
“Hey,” I heard behind me, “I’m talking to you!”
I turned and looked up. The big boy was standing, still tossing his ball from hand to hand.
“Who, me?” I mumbled, wanting to run away.
“Yeah you,” he sneered down at me. “Are you a faggot like him? Because if you
are,
you’d better give me a blowjob if you know what’s good for you.” The boys erupted again, then quieted, wanting to see what happened next. The older boy was tossing the ball a little harder now. It made a smacking sound each time it hit his palm.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. “I just walked her home, that’s all.” He started down the stairs. I folded my arms and turned, looked down the street again. I heard his feet slapping on the steps.
He came up right next to me, having pocketed the ball. “Hey, you wanna know something,” he said, loud enough for the boys to hear. “That’s a queer. He may look like a
she
but that’s really a
he
. Take my advice, stay away from him, if you know what’s good for you.”
He put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me a few steps away. I wanted to shrug him off, but he was really strong.
“Hey, listen, pal,” he said quietly, glancing back at the boys. “She’s your friend? Then set me up with her, put in a good word for me, I wanna try her, too. I don’t care
what
she is. Man, she’s hot!” He rubbed his crotch, still holding my shoulders.
He walked me back and forth a while, telling me again and again to
put in a good word, put in a good word
. He looked up when the street door opened again and Sissy came out. She was wearing pink leggings and a purple sleeveless turtleneck; her hair was piled up thick and high. I thought it was a wig, but I didn’t know for sure. And she looked charming! She sneered at me and the big boy, then at the boys on the stairs as she made her way through them. The big boy scratched his crotch again. His mouth was open and his eyes were wide, but he didn’t say anything.
She put her arm in mine, glared at the big boy and pulled me away from her building. I went with her readily, feeling warm and very pleasant. They were still shouting and catcalling behind us.
Should I tell her what he’d just asked for?
“That’s Kid Paulie,” she said, “a big schmuck if there ever was one. He’s such a doofus. Oh, to hell with him!” I knew that
schmuck
meant an asshole, which he certainly was, and
doofus
meant pretty much the same.
We walked on Avenue C to 10
^th
Street where we waited for the light to change, watching a group of city buses pass by. I marveled at Sissy. She didn’t seem drunk, as she had before. We saw Blowjob Tanya weaving along the street, coming from the East River Park, further east near Avenue D. Her clothes weren’t on right. Her hot pants were riding low, just below her belly button and showing the top of her panties. Her T-shirt rode just above her nipples, showing off her big bosom and beautiful black skin. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She certainly was a looker—a blowjob princess, indeed.
“Hey, bitch!” Sissy shouted, waving her arms. “Tonya, yoo-hoo! Wake up, you skanky slut!”
As if coming to, Tonya stopped her slow walk and looked our way. She smiled drunkenly but staggered up to us.
“Man, I’m wasted.” She rubbed her chin. “But I made over thirty dollars in the park, I think. Man, that’s something, no?” She fluttered her eyelashes while staring at my crotch, which was pretty hard again.
Sissy Godiva gripped my arm tighter, showing Tonya I was hers.
“What did you do, act like the whore you always were?” Sissy snorted at her.
“What whore? I ain’t no whore, I didn’t even ask for it,” she shrugged. “They just gave it to me, slipped me a few bucks. What was I supposed to do, tell them ‘no, can’t take that’? Shit, I put it in my pocket.” They glared at each other a moment, then Tonya looked like she was going to pass out when Sissy lit a cigarette and blew smoke in her face.
“Remember that old sissy, Pips?” Tonya focused again. “Well, he just dropped dead. You liked him, didn’t you? But you like everyone,” she looked at me and waved her hand dismissively. “Well, Pips is in his grave now, that for sure.” She blew more smoke at Tonya.
Tonya looked confused, then scowled. “Pips? Pips? Oh, yeah, Pips! How the hell is he? I really miss him. I liked him but he was always jerking off. Wonder if he still does that?”
Sissy sneered and flicked her cigarette into the gutter. “I just told you, you want I should repeat every word? Stay alert, girl! Your old lover boy, Pips, he just dropped dead, got that?”
Tonya looked shocked, her face going pale.
Sissy nodded. “Dead, dead, you understand? Gone to meet Gabriel and the silver trumpet players up in heaven.” She sneered, then added, “More like down in hell, if you ask me.” She burst out laughing, then took my hand and started pulling me along. I dragged along behind her, resisting a little.
“But how do you know?” Tonya asked, rushing after us. “Were you there, did you see him die?”
Sissy stopped and dropped my hand, lit another cigarette. “Sure did, maybe an hour ago. He’s probably a stinking corpse in the funeral parlor by now. Try the ones on 7
^th
Street, there’s lots of funeral homes on that block.” She winked at me. The blocks all around 7
^th
Street were full of Ukrainian, Polish, and Slavic immigrants.
Tonya bowed her head. She looked like she was going to cry, but then she looked up and stamped her foot. “Wait a minute, you asshole jerk, they don’t bury people that fast. What are you trying to pull on me?”
“Oh, yes, they do,” Sissy said, looking unsure and fumbling with her cigarette.
“Do they?” Tonya asked me, putting her hand on my arm and batting her eyelashes. I thought I was going to cum just from looking at her almost-exposed nipple. “I mean, that old man was always dying, he jerks off so much he forgets to eat, always jerking and jerking.” She turned to Sissy. “Hey, remember that place in he had in Greenwich Village last year, there was three or four sofas and guys would be on them just jerking off, doing nothing but jerking, jerking, jerking. Where do they find each other, I’d like to know? But that was his goal in life. Not to make love with someone, just to watch them jerking off. I guess that was his whole point in life, jerking off.”
Sissy’s eyes widened and she grinned. “Yeah, I remember all these guys sitting there and jerking off, you used to go there, didn’t you? And just jerk—”
“So what,” Tonya blushed, “you did too, that’s how I met you, jerking off, right? All those grown men watching us little boys jerking off for them. We were all doing it, what’s the big deal?”
Sissy’s face reddened with embarrassment.
“Hey, I got an idea,” Tonya said brightly. “How about us going up to his apartment? Bet you anything he just forgot to eat and fell asleep. Aw, man, just give him a sandwich and he’ll be a new man again, mark my words. Wanna do it?”
I looked at Sissy, who was looking at Tonya. I shrugged. We’d be going back to my building.
Sissy took Tonya’s elbow and they started walking, giggling and gossiping. I went after them. It was like I was being pulled forcefully back home.
On Avenue A I interrupted them, biting my lips.
“That’s my house we’re going to,” I said to Tonya. “I live right next door to him. He’s my neighbor.”
They eyed each other.
“Uh-huh,” Sissy said, winking at Tonya, “they’re like lovers.”
“Oh, wow,” Tonya said, “very cool!”
I shook my head. “No, we’re not lovers. Today’s the first time I was in his house.” Of course it was a lie. But I didn’t want them to think that Pips and I were close.
Sissy looked back at me. “And today’s the first time you jerked off together, is that it?”
I sighed. “No, that’s not it, either.” I looked around, wanting to get away.
“Then what is? You have to clue me in.”
They were both looking at me.
“My mom lives in that building, too. If she sees us together, well, she’s going to be real pissed at me, you know.” I looked down, trying to stall them. My building was just a block away.
“Oh, that’s all?” Sissy took me by the arm and pulled me up the street closer to 1
^st
Avenue, winking at Tonya. “I knew that, we were there before. But we’ll be quiet. I promise Momma won’t hear a thing, will she Tonya?”
Tonya made a show of zipping her lips shut and nodded as Sissy walked on. We were a few feet from the corner.
“We’re right with you,” Sissy whispered. “Lead the way.”
I took a deep breath and turned onto 1
^st
Avenue. Sissy walked close the building, keeping her head down.
“Gotta watch out for my own mommy,” she whispered. “She’s still working tonight, works late on Friday nights.”
We got to my building and bustled through the doorway.