Sissy Godiva

by Mykola Dementiuk

  “Fresh!” she giggled, and we continued climbing. On the fourth floor I gestured to my apartment.

  “I live here, Pips is over there.”

  “Nice to know,” she said, “that I can always come here for a visit and a good groping, no?” Her hand was reaching for my penis.

  “Yes. Yes, you can,” I said, pushing my bulge toward her. “It’ll always be there for you, big and hard, just the way you like it.”

  I think I would have fucked her right then and there but Pips flung his door open. There he stood, naked in all his glory, Mr. Phillips—or, as me and Sissy Godiva called him now, Pips.

  Sissy laughed. “Of course I know this old geezer. Hey, Pips, how ya doing? Still horny and naked, I see,” she said, winking at him.

  Mr. Phillips was red-faced and glared at me. “I was so upset. I didn’t know what had happened to you. You said you’d be here around nine, but now it’s almost one. I was so discombobulated.”

  Silence and confusion filled the air.

  “Discom—what?” Sissy frowned. “I always told you, don’t use those big, fancy words. No one understands what the hell you’re saying.”

  “I’m terribly sorry,” Pips answered. “Terribly sorry, it’s my teaching background. Won’t happen again.”

  Sissy yawned. “Well, if we’re gonna stand out here, maybe we should go tell the whole world you’re naked, eh?”

  “Oh, yes, silly me, silly me. Come in, come in.” He led us into his apartment. I shut the door after us.

  “You used to be a teacher?” I asked, closing the door. “What did you teach?”

  “High school English. Sometimes I had Geography or Social Studies, but rarely.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Sissy interrupted. “You have anything to drink? I’m dying of thirst.”

  “Why, yes,” Pips answered, opening the refrigerator. “I have a little ginger ale left—”

  She frowned. “I meant a little stronger, like some booze, beer, wine, or something like that.” She looked up at the kitchen cabinets. “Oh, wow, what’s that?” She reached up and grabbed a half-full bottle of Canadian Club. “Just what a girl is looking for,” she said, grinning at the bottle.

  The whiskey swirled in the bottle as if trying to touch her, as desperate for her as she was for it. I frowned and looked away. She was going to get drunk, and she still was stoned from the night before, and there was nothing I could do about it.

  “It’s been there a long time,” Pips said. “Don’t recall who put it there.”

  “You have any ice?” Sissy asked, opening the bottle and sniffing, frowning at the whisky smell.

  “Yes, of course,” Pips said, opening the refrigerator again. “Ice coming right up.” He took out an ice tray, struck it against the sink, and pulled the lever to release the cubes. He scooped a few chunks into a glass.

  She took the glass from him and poured the whiskey in, immediately bringing it to her lips and taking a mouthful.

  “Ah, better,” she said, but coughed. She raised the glass to her mouth again and gulped it down. The whiskey seemed to supply her with nourishment. It was like she was being renewed, refreshed, and I watched her whirl the whiskey-ice in the glass. “You want some,” she asked me, licking her lips. “There’s more than enough.”

  I shook my head. “No, no, I’m fine.”

  She shrugged, raised the glass again and had another swallow.

  Pips cleared his throat. “It’s wonderful that you’re here, both of you.” He turned to Sissy. “I missed you very much. Almost a year since I’ve last seen you. And you were always so sweet and innocent, one of the best in the bunch.”

  “Huh? What bunch?” Sissy set her glass down and looked at him.

  “Your bunch,” Pips smiled. “The bunch you used to hang out with. You remember that trannie, Blowjob Tonya? Whatever happened to her, she sure was a knockout. Had nice, beautiful, big tits, looked like a real female, no?”

  Sissy laughed. “Man, that girl will suck anyone off.” She shook her head, picked up her glass and had another swallow. “Even you Pips, if you still can get it up. Can you?”

  Pips looked down and shook his head sadly. “I can still come all over myself. But as for getting hard, well, those days are over,” he looked back at us as we looked at his limp, flaccid dick drooping from his scrotum. He looked at Sissy, “But you can bring Tonya over any time.” He brightened and turned to me. “She loved showing it off and I loved looking. Please bring her up next time you come,” he pleaded, rubbing his balls.

  Sissy just snorted and raised her glass, drinking the last of the whiskey. “Man, I sure could use another glassful,” she said, dropping in more ice and nearly filling the glass again.

  Pips leered at me and took my hand. “What a great friend you have. We had lovely times together, didn’t we?” he said, looking at Sissy again. She had another deep swallow, then stared at him.

  “What—what you looking at?” she spluttered.

  “Sweetie,” Pips shook his head, “you drink too much, too fast. Slow down.” He turned to me. “I told her that many a time last year but she still drinks like a fish, as if there’s no tomorrow.” He looked at her. “Slow down, baby, slow down!”

  But Sissy ignored him, set her glass down and mumbled, “You got a bed? I just wanna lay down a second.”

  “In the other room,” Pips said, getting up from his chair. I stood there blushing and watching them, remembering being on that bed yesterday. I saw him take her hand as she wobbled out of the room, trying to steady her as he steadied himself on the wall. I rubbed my crotch for a minute or so, then went to see what they were doing.

  She looked like she’d collapsed onto the bed. The front of her halter top had fluttered up to show off the bulge in her leggings. Pips was in his chair and was slowly jerking off again. We looked at each other. I nodded at him and he nodded back hopefully. I shrugged and removed my shirt and started undoing my pants. In an instant I was fully naked, just like him. I eased myself carefully onto the bed, trying not to disturb Sissy. She moved a little, but still lay in a drunken sleep. Pips stared at me as I stroked my own hard dick; he circled his fingers around his.

  I watched Sissy sleep. Wow, she sure was pretty laying there, the edge of her halter top up above her leggings, her hands up near her head with elbows bent. She looked ready for a fucking! Wait a minute, how the hell do they do that?

  I dipped my head to her as if about to kiss her—what the hell was I doing!—and lay on top of her, my hard penis pressing against hers in her leggings, and I started grinding slowly against her. I didn’t care what Pips was doing. I only cared that she was mine, the beautiful Sissy Godiva, my love. I felt awkward, but I bent my head and started to kiss her mouth, her nose, her beautiful closed eyes, when I felt a sudden leap in my belly. My semen rushed right through me, exploding onto her leggings and halter top.

  Whew! That was beautiful, divine! If I could lie on top of her forever, I would. But I moved off her, feeling the stickiness at my crotch and looked embarrassedly at Pips, jerking off. I turned back to Sissy. She lay as before, passed out. But the bright wetness of my scum shone boldly on her white leggings and in the sprinkles on her purple halter top. I didn’t care. I leaned over and kissed her again, rolled on top of her again. I shut my eyes.

  Yeah, sure, I’m not gay, uh-huh. Tell me another bullshit lie.

  Chapter 13 Sissy Godiva was pushing me off her, crawling away. “Motherfucker, you’re in my way!” She stood up and looked around. “Where’s the damned bathroom? I’ve gotta pee!”

  “Huh? What is it?” Pips grunted, also waking up. “The bathroom, the bathroom, where’s the fucking bathroom?”

  “The door’s in the kitchen,” I said, “right by the window. It’s just like my apartment.” But what difference did that make to her? She’d never been in my apartment. She was racing through Pips’ flat; we heard a door bang loudly and the heavy stream of her urine splashing into the toilet. I imagined her standing before the tan
k and sighing, “Whew!” Wonder if she was sitting down?

  I sat up on the bed, looking nervously at Pips. “What time is it?” I asked, yawning. “How long have we been sleeping?” He shrugged, didn’t know. I went into the kitchen. The clock read four-thirty-five. I cursed. I’d fallen asleep about two o’clock and the day was gone. I shook my head.

  A last trickle echoed from the bathroom. Pips wobbled out of the bedroom. He made it to the table and collapsed onto a chair. Sissy, still wasted and hung over, stepped out of the bathroom.

  “Shit, I can’t go out like this,” she said, pulling off her stained leggings. “I got piss all over myself.”

  We looked at her leggings.

  “In this hot weather they’ll dry quickly,” I said.

  She sneered at me. “Fuck you!” she spat, and wiped at the scum on her purple halter top. “What is this shit?” She wiped her hand on the chair, looking at me. Hope she didn’t guess that it was my scum!

  “In this heat, with the breeze, they’ll dry very fast,” I said again. I crossed my arms and stared at her.

  She shook her head. “Breeze? ‘Breeze,’ my ass!” She scowled and rubbed her forehead. “I got a damned stinking headache from that booze. Canadian Club, bullshit! Feels like Siberian Poison to me. Gross!”

  She spat onto the floor like she was spitting out the noxious booze. I stared at her little penis, still hard in her leggings.

  “I gotta lay down again,” she said. “This headache is murder.” She disappeared into the other room.

  Pips waved his arm dismissively.

  “Leave her alone. She’ll be all right, just needs a little more sleep. That’ll do her better than any headache medicine.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” I mumbled, going after her and looking into the bedroom. She’d removed her halter top and was lying on her back. Her two little breasts shone like seductive orbs. I licked my mouth. Her tiny panties held her little cock prettily. She’s ripe for something….

  I blinked and turned back to the kitchen.

  “I’m going to have to go,” I said. “Mom will be home in a bit. Maybe I’ll come by later, if I can without Mom knowing where I’m going, you know?”

  “Yes, yes, of course. Our relationship is our little secret, no one needs to know.” He winked, then whispered, “we’re like two secret lovers, aren’t we? I’m your Cumalot and you’re my Queen Guenevere,” then he blushed. “You must know I love you, don’t you?”

  I winced. “Yeah, yeah, I suppose, whatever, if you say so. But you must know,” and I blushed, “I love Sissy Godiva most of all. Don’t you?” There, I said it!

  He leered at me and licked his lips.

  I shrugged. “I still like Sissy. She has a great name, don’t you think? Sissy Godiva, what could be better for her?”

  He beamed at me. “Yes, a wonderful name, and very sexy.” He jerked his chin toward the bedroom. “You’re Sissy’s boyfriend,” he smiled, leering at again. “Sissy Godiva and Sissy’s boyfriend, that’s you two! Do you like it? What a wonderful pair!” He shifted in the chair. “It’s a great feeling, thinking of her. She’s so precious.” He cleared his throat, “Yes, Blowjob Tonya and her, I can’t wait to see them together.” He rubbed his useless cock and balls. “But did you ever see Tonya with Big Daddy? Oh, boy.” He shook his head. “I’m sure what he has will be more than big enough for you, eh?”

  I didn’t quite understand him, but I had a pretty good idea. “I’m not gay like the rest of you, you know,” I sneered.

  He smiled and nodded at me, still stroking his soft penis. “You’re not?”

  My cock hardened as I stood there. “Just leave the door unlocked so I can come in later, okay?”

  He shrugged. “It’s always unlocked—well, most of the time. Had to leave it open for my doctor to get in, you know.”

  I looked at him, “Your doctor? How come?”

  “My bad heart,” he shrugged. “He’s worried, he comes by every week to check on me. I told him, Doc, whatever happens, happens. That’s my philosophy.”

  I studied him, nodded and let myself out of the apartment.

  “See ya later, sweetie,” I heard, and I’m sure he was blowing a kiss after me.

  Chapter 14 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 1st 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 23rd 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 lif
ted 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?”