Sissy Godiva (6 page)

“Yep, my mom,” Sissy said as we crept up the stairs. In no time we were on the fourth floor. I put my finger to my lips and jerked my chin at Pips’ door. Sissy and Tonya nodded, staying quiet. Pips’ door was unlocked, of course, and we slipped in.

“Holy shit,” Sissy exclaimed, giggling. “Getting in here was scary, that’s for sure.”
“Uh-huh, and those dark stairs made me nervous,” Tonya agreed. She crossed her legs where she stood. “I gotta pee, and real bad, too. Where’s the bathroom?”
“Right there,” Sissy said, pointing. “Hurry up, I gotta go, too.”
But when Pips came out of the bedroom, Sissy Godiva peed her pink leggings.

“What the fuck!” Sissy shouted. “Man, we thought you was dead, scared the fucking shit out of me!”
Pips staggered to a chair by the kitchen table as Tonya tore into the bathroom, the urine stain huge on her leggings.
“Hurry up, Tonya, you slut,” she called, “I gotta go, too.” She pulled her arms out of her purple turtleneck, leaving it around her neck, and pulled her leggings off. “Ugh, pee, disgusting!” She tugged at her frilly panties, also wet. “That’s got to go, too,” she said, and tugged the panties off, standing with her cock exposed, her turtleneck hanging off her shoulders. Of course, she had those tiny breasts. I felt myself blush. But even flat-chested, she was so pretty.
Tonya came out of the bathroom and nodded at Pips and Sissy nearly naked beside him. She said, “Great idea,” and pulled off her T-shirt, showing off her lovely big breasts and her shorts. Sissy hurried into the bathroom and I heard her soft dribble. That must have been all she had left, since she’d peed herself.
“Hey, I’ve known this old geezer for the longest time,” Tonya said, looking Pips up and down. “Back in Greenwich Village he was always jerking off,” she shook her head. “Looks alive to me.”
“I have to eat,” Pips grunted. He looked tired but shuffled into the kitchen. He looked in a cabinet, took out a can, opened it, and ladled Chef Boyardee spaghetti into a pot. “I haven’t eaten in a few days,” he mumbled. “Lost my nourishment.”
“What you mean you haven’t eaten in a few days, what’s wrong with you?” Tonya said, shaking her head. “You
gotta
eat. No wonder they thought you was dead, they was about to bury you, too. Jesus fucking Christ!”
Sissy came out of the bathroom and looking at Pips and Tonya. She pulled off her purple turtleneck and tossed it onto a chair. I was the only one still fully dressed, and I felt like an idiot. I began to remove my T-shirt.
“Hey, I had a dream about this,” Tonya said, looking at me and taking my hand. “It was a room just like this and everyone was naked except this one guy, just like you. That was pretty weird,” she said. She looked far away, thinking about her dream.
“That’s right,” Sissy nodded. “Leave your clothes on. You had a hard-on ever since Avenue C when you was talking to that big creep Paulie, my horny neighbor. What you expect from him, a blowjob? Talk to her.” She giggled and shoved me at Tonya.
Pips had stirred his Chef Boyardee to a boil. It bubbled as he removed the pan from the stove. He carried it a few steps to the table. He set it down, stuck in a spoon and started to eat.
“Damn, I thought you was dead,” Sissy repeated, wiping her mouth and shaking her head. “Why didn’t you tell me you hadn’t eaten? That sure scared me, a lot.”
“I’m sorry,” Pips said, not looking up. He was already chewing his second mouthful.
“When did you eat last?” I asked.
“I don’t know, last week, I think. What’s the big deal, anyway, it’s only food.” He shrugged and went back to his pot of boiled Chef Boyardee, eating mouthful after mouthful until it was empty. He dropped the spoon into the pot and it made a clattering sound. “Ah, better,” he said, pushing the pot away and looking at us. His eyes glinted and he began to jerk off right way. He leered at Tonya, who seemed to be drifting away again. I began to feel resentful. He wasn’t even looking at me, just bigboobed Tonya!
How quickly he’d forgotten me! Did her big tits distract him?
I shook my head.
Dirty old man,
I thought.
Jerking off old geezer, that’s what he was
, when I felt a hand on my crotch. Sissy was palming my erection while her mouth was latched onto Blowjob Tonya.
What perverts they are!
I thought when Sissy broke from Tonya and breathed out.
“Let’s go to the bedroom, sweetie,” Sissy sighed. “Man, you’re fucking hot.” She pulled Tonya out of the kitchen. Tonya winked back at me but let Sissy drag her into the bedroom.
I looked over at Pips. He was still jerking off, looking at me as he beat his dick uselessly.
“Motherfucker!” I shouted, bitterly mad that I had lost Tonya. “Stinking queer whores, ugly skanks!”
“Oh, let them be,” Pips said, shaking out his hand.
I was about to leave, but I went into the bedroom after them. Sissy and Tonya had dropped onto the bed, their mouths at each other’s cocks, and were furiously sucking each other off.
“Fuck!” I walked away, glaring at Pips. He was still lost in his own sexual fantasy. I slammed his door and stalked across the landing to my apartment.
I slammed my apartment door, then winced.
Damn, I’m gonna wake Mom up.
But it stayed still and dark. I heard laughter from an apartment across the yard as I went to my bedroom, shutting the door behind me.
In the darkness I made out the bed, the little cabinet, the chair, and the mirror that stood like a sentinel waiting for me. I’d already removed my T-shirt and was unzipping my pants when I heard Mom walking around. I clicked my light on.
“Oh, you’re in,” she mumbled, as if to herself. “I thought that was you. Have a good night out?”
“The usual, Mom,” I answered, clicking my light off again as I heard her go into the bathroom.
I sat in the armchair and watched my dim reflection as I gently stroked myself. I heard Mom go back to her bedroom and get into bed. I stretched, then put my hands on the chair arms as I watched my dick. It was standing up, desperate for a jerking-off, which I wouldn’t give it. The beauty of resistance was just that. Not jerking off and cuming when you desperately wanted to, like a punishment you’d given yourself, but you delighted in resisting, anyway. Definitely masochism. I loved sitting there, getting hotter and hotter as I let my erotic imaginings permeate my being.
Ejaculation would be beautiful!
Maybe an hour went by, maybe longer, as I thought about Sissy and Tonya. I smelled smoke.
That’s smoke, for sure!
I bolted up, flipping on the light and saw that my room had filled with smoke, and it was quickly getting thicker. I jumped up and bolted to Mom’s room; the smoke was even thicker there.
“Mom! Mom, wake up, fire!” I shouted, shaking her. “We gotta get outta here, right now!”
Mom grabbed her robe and my hand, pulled me out of the apartment. We could hardly see on the landing for the smoke. Pips’ door was shut “You go down, Mom,” I said, shaking her hand off. “I’m going to get Pips, we’ll be right behind you.”
Mom looked at me and started coughing. “Get who?”
“Mr. Phillips,” I corrected myself. “Meet you outside,” I said, and bolted to his door.
Mom ran down the stairs, coughing. The thick smoke was making me choke as I opened Pips’ door.
The apartment was even smokier than the hall, but I held my arm to my face, breathing into the crook of my elbow, gagging really. I ran into the kitchen; no one there. In the bedroom I saw Sissy on the bed, probably passed out, and Tonya lying next to her. I knew I couldn’t pick Tonya up, but Sissy was lighter. I had my arms around her before I knew it. I picked her up and ran out of the room, gagging and hardly able to breathe, but making my way down the stairs, floor after floor. It seemed to take forever, and the other tenants shoved and cursed me as they tried to get out, too. I heard a fire truck blare as I stepped out of the building, gagging, my face running with sweat and tears. I tried to get farther away, get through the crowd, when someone took Sissy from my arms and put a blanket over her, and another blanket on my shoulders. I realized we were both naked.
“
Matka Boza, synok
!” someone gasped (
oh, my God, son!)
, but it wasn’t Mom’s voice. I blacked out.
I came to on a gurney, almost buried in Mom’s arms, being cradled and cuddled as she cried. I struggled to sit up but Mom held me down.
“Thank God, you’re all right!” Mom shouted. “Thank God, sweet Jesus!” More tearful weeping and crying.
Sissy lay on another gurney close to me, her mom, bigbreasted Sophie, the Polish cashier from the diner crouched at her side. It turned out Sophie’d been working late and had gone out onto the sidewalk to see the fire, then saw her son being carried out. Sissy’s real name was Joseph, or Joey, I remembered. Sophie sneered at me as if I’d caused the fire.
“
Matka Boza
,” she said over and over, now and then glaring at me and mumbling curses in Polish until they took Sissy off in an ambulance.
I finally managed to get Mom enough off me so I could sit up and watch the firemen. They were going in and out, and two fire hoses streamed into our building’s top floor. I learned later that the fire had started on our floor, in Pips’ apartment. The firemen said the fire had started in the bathroom, where they’d found an old man naked. He’d been smoking, and had dropped his cigarette onto some greasy towels; they’d smoldered, then caught. The old man had inhaled too much smoke and they couldn’t save him.
Asphyxiation,
they called it, choked to death. And they’d found a big-breasted, black transvestite passed out on the bed and pulled her out in time. Poor Pips. They buried him in a pauper’s grave somewhere in Long Island, but I always wondered if he’d died holding onto his dick. At least it had made him happy.
They took me to Bellevue along with Sissy and Tonya, but we went in separate ambulances and didn’t see each other while we were there.
They kept me overnight and let me go the next day; my breathing was good enough by then. We weren’t allowed back into our apartment until late that day. The smell of smoke stayed for weeks.
“All faggots in that building,” I heard strangers say as they passed our building after the fire. “Yeah, must be a cool, hot place.” They smirked as they went their way.
The summer’s heat eased and the days got cooler. And the cool weather brought out the neighborhood boys. They taunted and jibed at me whenever they saw me, calling me sissy names and hissing and throwing out kisses. They’d heard about the fire and how some naked faggot had carried a naked sissy boy down the stairs. I always squirmed. But I didn’t know why.
“Carry me out, too, you sissy,” they shouted. Kid Paulie, who’d wanted me to set him up with Sissy, was the bitterest of the lot when I ran into him in Tompkins Square Park.
The fall and winter went by and summer came again. I was stealing my way through the Lower East Side, trying to avoid all the bullies when a vaguely familiar voice said behind me, “long time no see, eh, Vinnie?”
I turned and saw a young lady in a short skirt and a Vneck blouse that showed off her flat bosom. She winked and smiled at me. I almost shot off in my pants. It was Sissy Godiva!
“My God, is that you?” I cried, going up to her. “Haven’t seen you in months!”
She laughed. “The one and only,” she said, pulling her hand away from mine and reaching for a cigarette. “How you been, sweetie?”
I shrugged. “Surviving, but a lot of good that does me,” I looked her up and down. “Looks like you’re doing pretty good, yourself.”
“What, this?” she exclaimed, glancing down at herself. “I gotta look good when I go to work,” she said. “I work now, and they think Josephine is a girl’s name, which I suppose it is. A girl is what I’ve always wanted to be, anyway, so it worked out very nicely, don’t you think?”
“Wow, that’s great,” I said. “But you always dressed up so pretty, man, you were hot! I mean, as a girl you were.” I blushed. “What kind of job is it?”
“Oh, boring dumb secretarial work. It was pretty good at the start but now all I do is type and yawn all day.” She mimed a wide yawn. “And I make too many mistakes,” she shrugged, then giggled and took my hand.
“Been there long?”
“Nah, about two weeks. Think they’ll get rid of me any day now, anyway, it’s too stupid and boring,” she yawned for real this time. “Plus I don’t think they don’t like me.”
“Where is it, uptown? Downtown?
“Not far, 23
^rd
and Madison.” I nodded, feeling myself blush. “You know that old big building with the clock tower? I’m on the twelfth floor.”
I nodded again, and reddened still more. Mom was on the fourteenth floor.
We were silent a moment. “Hey, I’m sorry about Pips going like that.”
She shrugged. “I know, but he was an old man, an old jerking-off geezer,” she shrugged. “Anyway, it’s not my fault he had heart trouble. We each go our own way, we live and then we die, but life goes on.”
I looked at her and shook my head again. “Man, you’re hot! Hard to believe you’re getting away with it.”
She grinned and winked. “Yeah, I know. But we all get away with whatever we can, right?”
I grinned back at her. We were standing very close.
“And what about Blowjob Tonya, what happened to her?”
She nodded. “Bad smoke; she was in Bellevue a few days and then her Grandma put her on a plane back to Georgia. But she came back pretty soon after. Can’t keep a good fairy down, right?”
I looked at her. “Georgia? She was from Georgia?
“Uh-huh, but I’m sure that by now she has sucked a whole lot of New York City cocks, some three or four times.” She laughed. “As soon as she could walk again, she was giving blowjobs to every medic, orderly, and doctor in Bellevue, and showing off her big tits. I guess it takes all kinds, don’t it? After all, she’s Blowjob Tonya—Tony’s her real name. But I think Blowjob Tonya has more pizzazz, don’t you?” She giggled and lit a cigarette. “How’s things with you?”
“The usual, always trying to find a job but never finding one, you know how that goes.” I shrugged. “I look and look and go home, day in, day out. That’s my life. Nothing, really.”
She nodded. “Don’t I know it. But hey, you ever go to the Giddy Up! Bar on Avenue A? That’s one swinging club, gay guys all over the place just picking up what they want.” The Giddy Up! was a cowboy bar on Avenue A in the East Village. It didn’t promote itself as a cowboy bar, because there weren’t any real cowboys in New York City, but it was a transvestite bar that attracted brawlers who fought it out for the pretty pseudo-ladies who sat around the bar.
I shook my head. “Nah, I stay away from those queer clubs. Too weird and kinky for me. Anyway, I’m not gay, like you.”
She burst out laughing. “But you were in that famous gay fire in the East Village, even the
Village Voice
had a drawing on the front page of you carrying a naked me out of the blaze.” She threw her cigarette away.
“They did that? I never saw it.”
She shrugged. “Must be around somewhere, we’ll have to find you a copy. Of course, we knew it was mostly smoke, but who’s going to tell the press that?” She nodded. “They write about those blazes burning up apartments, think smoke and fires are everywhere. Uh-huh, leave it to the