Instead of arguing, I said, “Okay, Milo,” as I climbed into the truck and closed the door.
I wanted to strip him bare and fuck him while looking in his eyes, but Milo apparently wasn’t ready for that intimacy. He quickly pushed his pants and underwear down then got on his hands and knees on the bench seat. Milo looked over his shoulder when I didn’t move.
“Second thoughts?” he asked, wiggling his delicious ass.
“Not at all,” I replied, reaching into my back pocket. I pulled out the supplies I needed and tossed the wallet to the floor before I shoved my pants down to my thighs.
“You sure are well-prepared for these clandestine fucks,” Milo said accusingly. “How handy.”
“That’s me, Handy Andy.”
Milo snorted until I slid a slicked finger inside his pucker. “God, yes. More.” So much for his indifference.
I didn’t stop to gloat. I kept playing with his ass to get him ready while biting one plump ass cheek then the other. “You still have the sexiest peach I’ve ever seen.”
“Then slick your dick and fuck me before I change my mind,” Milo panted, pushing against my penetrating fingers.
He didn’t have to tell me twice. Milo wanted it as fast and hard as the previous night, but I showed more restraint. I was rewarded with needy moans and mewling whimpers for more. Milo had resisted my attempt to kiss him once I was fully buried in his ass. Maybe he thought kissing would make our fucking too…intimate. Milo wanted to come, and I wanted a kiss. I kept him on edge until he gave me what I wanted.
“Fine, Andy. Kiss me, damn it.”
I placed my hand firmly on his jaw to turn his face and kissed him with everything I had. Milo came apart in my arms the second our tongues met, and I didn’t stop until I was filling the condom a few strokes later.
“Same time tomorrow night?” I teasingly asked when he wrestled his clothes back on. “Or do you want to punch my hole next time?”
His eyes widened like he wasn’t sure if I was being serious. “Shut up,” Milo said, sliding out the other side of the truck. He was back to the distant guy he was that morning. I should’ve been pissed that he was willing to use my cock to get off, but I was enjoying myself too.
“Hey,” I yelled when I stepped out of the truck. “Best way to shut me up is to stick a cock in my mouth. Any takers?”
Milo’s steps faltered, but he didn’t turn around and flip me off. I took that as progress. I smiled like an idiot all the way home, confident that I’d win him over before too much longer.
“How do I look? Everything tucked in tight?” I asked, popping out my hip and striking a pose for Faith.
“I can’t speak to how well you’ve tucked your balls up inside your body, but from here it looks great.” Faith circled her finger in the air indicating that she wanted a three-sixty view. She whistled as I sassily twirled for her. “Can’t tell that your cock is taped down so that it kisses your asshole. Wait. It’s not tucked inside there is it?”
“Oh, Faith,” I said, laughing happily for the first time in weeks. “You’re my favorite Drag Hag.” Funny how one Mason sibling makes me want to howl at the moon in frustration while the other kept me sane. I slid on a peachy silk robe with my drag name embroidered on the back of it along with juicy-looking peaches that looked very similar to my perky ass.
“I can’t believe how much I’ve missed your shows,” Faith admitted. “I love watching you become Madame O-Feel-Ya Peach right before my eyes. It’s pure magic!”
“I love you so much, Faith.” I pulled her into a hug. “I hate that you’re going to miss the show tonight,” I told her. “Especially for a work thing on a Saturday night.” Her blush made me smile. “When are you going to admit that your ‘work thing’ with Nathan really isn’t work and the only stats you’re checking are how many times he makes you come.”
Unfortunately for Faith, she’d just taken a drink of Coke. Her cheeks puffed out when she couldn’t decide whether to spit her drink and laugh or attempt to swallow it and try not to choke on it.
“Spitters are quitters, Faith,” I said, using my Peach voice. “Just relax your throat and let it happen, honey.”
Her blue eyes widened in alarm, and I knew I was seconds away from getting doused with soda. The only Mason twin I wanted hosing me down with a sticky substance was her idiot brother. I stepped aside to avoid pending disaster, but Faith turned in the opposite direction. I saw her shoulders shake as she attempted to get her giggling under control. She stilled then swallowed her drink before facing me again.
“Milo,” Faith gasped, looking around like a room full of drag queens in various stages of dress, or undress, would judge her. Then her eyes homed in on me and a smug smile slowly spread across her lovely face. “And who are you to lecture me? Are you going to pretend you’re not bumping uglies with my brother?”
“I’m not bumping uglies with your brother.” Not right now, anyway. Whatever madness caused my momentary lapse in judgment had passed. I was on equal footing and no longer tempted to ride Andy’s dick. Okay, that was an outrageous lie. The truth was the opportunity stopped presenting itself, or rather, Andy stopped accosting me in the dark alleyway after I finished closing the café.
At first, I thought he’d had his fill of me, but then I found out he was busy remodeling Josh and Gabe’s newly purchased home. They were eager to get in before the wedding, so Andy was working long hours. I still saw him every single morning I worked when he stopped in for tea and a muffin. He continued to give me that flirty smile but stopped trying to make small talk after I shut him down for a week. Was he waiting for me to make the next move or was he just tired of my rejection? Even I realized it was shitty behavior on my part to accept the glorious orgasms he’d given me without so much as a thank you. Maybe he’d just had enough. If that was the case, what was I prepared to do about it?
A month or so after he returned home, I realized that there was more going on in Andy’s life than just work. I overheard his busybody neighbor tell her gossip-mongering friend that Andy left every Wednesday night around six o’clock and didn’t return until eleven. I wanted to ask how she stayed up so far past her bedtime, but I didn’t comment. I was too crushed, even though I should’ve been happy. Andy had moved on, and I should do the same thing.
Then why was it that Andy still looked hungry and horny when he looked at me? Was his Wednesday-night fuck buddy not getting the job done? Did he leave Andy hungry for more? Was one guy not enough for Randy Andy these days? He was the trifecta of trouble; he made my mind spin, my heart yearn, and my dick hard. Andy was no good for me, and the sooner I accepted it, the better off I’d be.
“Sweetie, I’m not the one putting the extra pep in his step these days. That would be Mr. Wednesday Night giving him a boost with an extra dose of protein.”
Faith cringed, and I realized that was probably taking things a tad too far. Then I realized her discomfort had nothing to do with me implying her brother was a cum slut. She looked like she wanted to tell me something about Andy’s activities, but I knew she wouldn’t. One, she deemed herself neutral, and second, she’d never betray Andy’s trust—or mine for that matter. So, even though I wanted her to tell me I was wrong, I knew she wouldn’t. She was in a tough spot, and I wouldn’t do or say anything that would cost me her friendship. It was time to change the subject.
I clapped my hands excitedly, startling both us and half the queens around me. “Okay, help me pick out the perfect dress for tonight. I haven’t performed in more than a year, so I need my return to be flawless.”
“What are you performing tonight?”
“There will be two large groups in attendance that have requested performances to entertain the guest, or guests, of honor. One is a birthday party and the other is a bachelor party for two grooms. I’m thinking Marilyn would be perfect for both. I’ll sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to one and ‘My Heart Belongs to Daddy’ to the other. Of course, I’m going to have a little fun with the lyrics f
or Daddy.”
“I love when you do Marilyn,” Faith sighed. “Is someone recording it?”
“Absolutely. I’ll make sure you get a copy. So, obviously, I must wear the iconic white halter-top dress for one of the performances. Which one?”
“Definitely the birthday boy,” Faith said then began looking through the glitzy dresses hanging on my rack. “Oh, this is stunning and would look amazing with your complexion and beautiful blue eyes.”
Faith held up a floor-length, sequined gown that was slit up to the hip and had a plunging bodice that presented an extra challenge for people who didn’t have real cleavage. I would take that challenge and master it. The sequins on the dress were various shades of blues, turquoise, and teal, giving it almost a peacock feel. I often preened like a male peacock completely obsessed with its feathers, so it seemed appropriate to me.
“Don’t forget the fake diamonds,” Faith said. She glanced at her watch and frowned with genuine remorse. “I better go, or I’ll be late meeting Nathan for that work thing.” She hugged me quick and kissed my cheek. “I love you, Peach.”
“I love you too, Faith.” I waited until she was almost to the door before I yelled, “Work it, girl.” Yeah, I knew what she was really working.
Faith turned around and smiled. “Own it,” she repeated back to me. Pretty Woman was one of our favorite movies, and we tried to fit the lines into our conversations whenever we could.
Once she left, I began putting my makeup on. I started by gluing my eyebrows down, and while that dried, I started dabbing on a thick foundation around my lips, chin, and jawline to cover up any chin hairs I missed with the razor. I’d already shaved once that day, but my whiskers grew back fast. I wanted flawless, ivory skin for my performance. After I was satisfied with the foundation, I started in on my contour and highlighting. It took me longer than normal since I was out of practice, but it was like riding a bike. I was pleased when I started blending all the various shades on my face to form a flawless complexion. My cheekbones looked high and cut, and my nose, forehead, and even the little dip above my lip were highlighted to perfection. I wasn’t finished with my transformation though.
I spent another twenty minutes on my cheeks and eyes before I busted out the shimmery powder to accentuate the look I had created with the cream highlighting stick. I turned my head to the left and right, admiring my handiwork in the mirror.
Saving my two nemeses—eyebrows and false lashes—for last, I looked in the mirror to give myself a pep talk. “They just need to be sisters, Milo. They don’t have to be twin sisters.” I blew out a breath and started in on the left eyebrow. I drew it to perfection, and I danced happily in front of the mirror. I got off to a rocky start with the right eyebrow but pulled it out in the end. After that, it was child’s play. Once I had my eyelashes looking amazing, I painted my lips in a daring red color that my drag mother called cock-sucking red. I imagined quite a few guys would imagine my lips wrapped around their cocks by the time I was through performing. The final step was to paint a mole to mimic Marilyn’s on my face.
“Almost showtime, Peach,” the stage manager, Tony Sopranski, said. “Fifteen minutes.”
That sounded like a lot of time, but I needed to manufacture cleavage, put on my wig, and shimmy into my first dress. “Which is first, Tony? Birthday boy or the wedding party?”
“Wedding party.”
Double damn because I had to add all the costume jewelry. I released a nervous breath and got my shit together so I could give the future grooms a night to remember. I stood before the full-length mirror with only a few minutes to go. “Fuck, I look…”
“Fuckable,” Tony said from behind me. “You’ll have them eating out of your palms tonight, Peach. Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” I told Tony as I followed him down the steps and took my position next to the curtain, waiting for my turn to take the stage.
Mistress Dazzle D came off the stage fanning her face and smiling from ear to ear. “Amazing crowd tonight, Peach,” she told me. “Knock ’em dead.”
I had walked across this stage, and many others just like it, more times than I could count. I could perform these songs in my sleep, but I couldn’t deny that I was overcome by nerves as I waited for my introduction.
“We have a very special treat for you tonight,” the announcer, Jim, said from his booth high above the action. “Back by popular demand, our very own Madame O-Feel-Ya Peach has returned to the stage at Queen City Divas. Hold onto your hearts and your cocks, and please note that management is not responsible if you jizz your pants.” I snickered at that part. “Let’s give our Peach a warm welcome.”
I waited a few heartbeats as adrenaline raced through my body from the crowd’s enthusiastic reaction. Instead of parting the curtains and walking onto the stage, I stuck my long, perfectly toned leg out, knowing that the spotlight was on it. I heard the catcalls when I ran my hand over my stockings and teased the lacy edges of the band around the thigh.
“Peach! Peach! Peach!” the crowd chanted.
I held my microphone up to my smiling lips and winked playfully at Tony. “Who, me?” I asked the crowd in a whispery baby-soft voice, lifting my leg higher against the velvet curtain.
“Peach! Peach! Peach!”
“Quit teasing and give them what they want,” Tony told me.
I blew Tony one last kiss and stepped onto the stage. The regulars went wild, and the newcomers seemed to be wowed too. “Hello, my darlings,” I said, sauntering to the middle of the stage to take my place. “Have you missed me, lovers?” I turned to the side and ran my hand over the curve of my ass. “Or did you miss my perfect peach?”
“Yes!” they roared.
“I missed you too, lovers,” I told the crowd. My nervousness was replaced by excitement and something else, an awareness that I only got when a certain someone was near. Andy. With the way the lights hit the stage, it was impossible for me to see into the crowd. I only saw dark silhouettes. I had every intention of going down and working the audience when I came out from behind the curtain, but I was having second thoughts.
I shook it off because it was highly unlikely that Andy Mason was sitting amongst my admirers. Of course, I didn’t know jack shit about Andy, other than how good his dick still made me feel. I had no clue what he was into after so many years apart. These fellas wanted to celebrate their big event with a dedicated performance from a queen, so I’d give them a night to remember.
The big band, jazzy music began to play, and I forgot to even think about Andy. I sashayed off the stage singing my revised version of the song, playing to my audience. I stopped at the table for the bachelor party and waved coyly to the grooms.
“Hellooooo, Daddy,” I said after the first verse, running my gloved fingers under his chin. I looked to the much younger groom sitting beside him. “You’re such a lucky boy.”
“That I am, Madame Peach.”
I went on to the second verse singing my heart out, making the lyrics as tawdry and dirty as I could. I knew I did well when the audience was laughing and cheering me on. One particular groomsman looked like he wanted to get to know me really well. He brazenly put his hand against my calf and ran his hand up to just above the back of my knee. It had been a month since I’d last had someone else’s hands on my body, and I couldn’t help getting a little excited. The man was gorgeous and big, just how I liked them. His warm brown eyes promised me a night I’d never forget, but regrettably, I had to keep it moving.
“Unless you’re going to stuff a ten spot in my stocking, you might want to remove your hand, darling,” I purred.
The hot guy licked his lips playfully and held up a ten-dollar bill. Some men couldn’t get past the feminine clothing and were uncomfortable while others easily dismissed the clothing in favor of the fine legs and tight ass beneath it. My brown-eyed admirer had no problem looking beyond the sequined gown. I knew what he was thinking when his eyes drifted down and lingered on my ass.
�
�Well, okay then,” I said sassily, straddling his thigh so he could have access to the lacy, band of my stocking. As I sang the chorus, he boldly traced the smooth skin of my inner thigh, and I allowed the insanity for a few seconds. Loyalty to Andy wasn’t on my mind right then but getting an erection when my dick was taped against my taint and ass crack would be painful. I playfully slapped his hand and sauntered away to spend time with the rest of the party.
When I rounded the grooms’ table a second time, I glanced over at the group next to them and locked gazes with familiar light-blue eyes. My heart stuttered for a second as Andy checked me out from my stilettos to my blonde wig. Did he recognize me in drag? I was sure no one had told him about this part of my life. I recognized the heat lighting his eyes from within. Andy might not have recognized me, but his body sure as hell did.
I forced my attention away from him and back to the happy couple who grinned and ate up the attention that I and their friends showered upon them. It was obvious to see how much they loved one another when they stared into each other’s eyes. It was hard not to get jealous that they’d found their other half while I would most likely become an old, loveless queen.
When the song ended, I kissed both grooms on their cheeks and said breathily, “I wish you many, many years of happiness, gentlemen. May you cling to one another during hard times and may all your ups and downs be in the bedroom, bathroom, living room, or wherever your hearts desire. Best of luck!” I blew them air kisses then moved to stand beside their table, careful not to look in Andy’s direction. I usually liked to flirt with as many guys as possible to maximize my tips, but I wanted to avoid his small gathering as best I could.
“I’ll be back a little later for another special performance, lovers,” I said to the crowd. “Be sure to stick around.”
I sauntered my ass back up the steps with the spotlight following my every move. “Peach! Peach! Peach!” the audience chanted as I made my way to the red velvet curtain.
This Time Around (Road to Blissville, #4) Page 3
