High Fashion Queen Redux

Author's Note: I'd like to thank my friend, Harvey, for his editing expertise.

- - - - -

I waited patiently outside the large amphitheater-style classroom. There were a lot of pot dealers on campus, but for whatever reason Jimmy always had the best product. He had a bit of a hygiene problem, though, and I always dreaded our interactions, regardless of how brief they were. However, I didn't have much of a choice if I was going to purchase the weed I needed for this evening.

It was my birthday, so I thought maybe he'd give me a good deal and lower his exorbitant prices. Yeah, right, wishful thinking.

I tapped my foot against the hallway tile and watched for several minutes as other students passed me by. A huge, handsome jock, who had to be on the football team; a pretty coed; two ordinary students who looked more like me ... what did they all have in common? None of them noticed me. I was virtually invisible, not even a blip on their radar. That didn't shock me, though; it had been that way my entire life. I was the nameless, faceless, little Asian guy that no one recognized, no one knew, and no one wanted to know. The only times that I got any type of attention in middle school or high school were when I was bullied by the other students. Unfortunately, that's the type of attention that no one wants.             

Finally, the door opened and the class was letting out. I watched the business students begin to shuffle by. It was Friday afternoon and some of them were off to their next class, while others were ready to get their weekend started.

I saw a tall, pretty, blonde girl walk by and she gave me a polite smile. She then pulled her cell phone out of the back pocket of her short, jean skirt.             

"Hello? ... Hi, Gianna, yeah, I'm headed to the Bellagio now ..." Her voice trailed off as she walked down the hall and out the door towards the parking lot.

Damn, about time, there's Jimmy.

"Jesse, what can I do you for?" he said once he saw me.

I tried to hold my breath as I spoke. He smelled like he hadn't showered for at least a month and I felt sorry for his classmates who'd had to endure that stench for an hour.

"I need a little green for the weekend," I said in a soft voice.

"Step into my office then and let's do some business," he said in a booming voice while motioning me towards the bathroom.

Damn, did he have to be so loud?

We walked into the bathroom and I looked underneath the row of stalls, ensuring that we were alone.

He started laughing. "I love this James Bond shit you've got going on."

"I'm just trying to be careful, Jimmy."

"Okay, okay ... I got it, but I'm in a bit of a time crunch here, so can we just move things along? What are you looking for?"

"I need half an ounce of something good."

He thought for a moment. "I have some Blue Dream left, but it won't be cheap."

"How much are we talking about?"

"For a half an ounce ... I need $200 ... and that's the friends price."

So much for getting a good deal on my birthday.

I reached into my pocket and handed him a wad of twenties. After he counted them he passed me a small Zip-loc bag and I quickly stuffed it away.

"It was a pleasure doing business with you, Jesse, have a good weekend."

Yeah, smell you later. "Have a good weekend too, Jimmy."

I had a few hours to kill before I had to meet my friend in her dorm room. Since I didn't have anywhere else to go, and I didn't really feel like studying, I figured I'd check out the Student Union game room and watch some TV. That was the one good thing about being nameless and faceless; I usually got to control the remote.

- - - - -

I hesitantly knocked on Sara's dorm room door. I didn't even really want to be there. However, she has a really good memory and she never forgot my birthday, and she refused to let me spend it alone. Normally, I enjoyed hanging out with her, but she had just broken up with her boyfriend and I knew she was going to be depressed. I honestly didn't want to hear her talk about her now-defunct relationship, especially on my birthday. But ever since the sixth grade she had been there for me more times than I could count and she was my only friend. I figured if I had to listen to her bloviate about her ex for a while it was the least I could do.             

She had told me two days ago that she'd caught her boyfriend in bed with his ex. It didn't really surprise me because her relationship with him was a ticking time-bomb anyway. It amazed me that they had lasted three months, which was about two-and-a-half months longer than her typical relationship. She was such a sweet person, but she made herself too ... what's a good word ... available to the guys she met. That sounds better than slutty, right?

"Hi, Jesse," she said after she opened the door, "happy birthday."

"Thank you, Sara, it's nice to see you, and the pizza smells great."

About half an hour later we had devoured the pizza and were in the process of getting incredibly baked.

"I knew something was wrong about two weeks ago because he just wasn't acting the same," she said after she had exhaled a long plume of smoke. "He'd wanted sex on an almost constant basis, but then that changed. I can almost pinpoint the exact day and time he started fucking her again."

The pot had fogged my brain to the point that it was difficult to concentrate on what she was saying and I found it nearly impossible to listen to her drone on about her ex-boyfriend. I had to change the subject, if for no other reason than my own sanity.

"You may meet the wrong guys, Sara, but I can't even meet anyone."

She paused for a moment, turned, and looked at me. I could almost see the gleam in her eye.

"You know, Jesse, we could always ... ummm ... do it. It could be like ... you know ... birthday sex ... my present to you."

It was a sweet gesture and I knew she had only the best of intentions. However, I couldn't help but feel like she thought of me as some sort of mercy fuck.

She's your best friend, for Christ's sake, just trust her and tell her the truth.

"Sara, I think I'm gay."

I watched as her jaw dropped open in surprise. I knew she hadn't expected that one, but she ended up taking the startling news about my sexuality really well.

"Have you ever ... ummm ... been with a guy?"

I took a long drag from the joint and then exhaled and passed it to her. "No, but that's all I think about."

She then made a very funny baseball reference concerning the type of sex that I fantasized about, and I told her the truth. I told her that I thought about having a guy in my mouth and what it would be like to feel one inside me.             

She took the revelation about me being gay so well, should I just tell her everything? God, maybe I could even get her to ...

"You said you wanted to help me and give me a birthday present. Would you still be willing to do something for me?"

"Well, if you fantasize about catching, I don't think I'm physically equipped to be much help to you."

I shot her a dirty look. I'm being serious, Sara, and you have no idea how difficult this is for me. Please take this seriously.

I saw her playful expression change to a look of concern and sympathy. "Of course, Jesse, I'll help you with whatever you want."

I took a deep breath. "Would you help me dress as a woman?"

For a split second I observed a perplexed, almost bewildered look on her face, which she very quickly removed. "Of course I will," she said after composing herself.

I got so excited I thought my heart was going to pound out of my chest. "What should I do first, then?"

She began to study me from head to toe while I held my breath in anticipation of what she might say next.

"You need to shave all of the hair off your body from the neck down, and by the time you get back from the shower I will have figured out what to do next."

The next half hour went by like some type of murky, cannabis-induced blur. I sprinted to my dorm room and changed into a pair of shorts and a tank top. Then, I grabbed my shower kit and tore off towards the bathroom.

It was embarrassing to even admit this to myself but I had very little hair on my body. Aside from what was on my head, I only had a very light thatch of pubic hair that was quite easy to remove. I could go weeks without shaving my face, and I probably didn't even have to bother. However, I wanted to follow Sara's orders explicitly, and I did remove what little was there. Even though there was no hair on my legs and underarms, I ran the razor over them too, just for good measure.

While I carefully inspected my body for hair I couldn't help but notice my erect penis. I'd love to say that I'm hung like some type of porn star. Unfortunately, that's just not the truth, and my cock is proportional to the rest of me. I'm only 5'4" tall and I weigh a hundred and twenty-five pounds soaking wet. However, I'm in really good shape because I like to run long-distance and there's really no fat on my body.             

Despite its small size, my cock was engorged and throbbing in time to the beat of my heart. I couldn't ever remember being so turned on and so in need of relief. It took everything in my power to keep my hands off of myself, because I didn't want to ruin this experience by masturbating in the shower.

About a half hour after I'd left her I knocked on Sara's door and I was shocked at what I saw when she opened it. She had set up her desk chair in the middle of her room and her expansive makeup case was next to the chair.

"Sit here, Jesse, and we'll get started."

Unfortunately, she had positioned the chair facing away from the mirror, so I really had no idea what she was doing as she started to work on me.

She began by putting some type of white liquid on my face, I think moisturizer. While she did, I mentally recalled when I was in junior high school. My parents would leave me alone for a few hours and I would sneak into their bathroom and get into my mother's cosmetics and attempt to apply them myself. I always ended up looking like a clown, literally. I had no idea what I was doing, and it really showed. After about the fourth attempt, I think my mother was getting suspicious, and because I looked ridiculous anyway I just stopped trying. I hoped Sara was better at applying this stuff than I was.

Her voice broke me out of my silent reflection. "You have really beautiful skin, do you know that, Jesse?"

"Thank you, Sara," I said shyly.

She started brushing some type of powder on my face. It created an almost tingling sensation, or was that just my imagination? I couldn't tell. Then she began working around my eyes. I quickly closed them in hopes nothing would get in them and sting.

Again my mind wandered back. I recalled wanting to try on my mom's clothes when I was very young, I think in elementary school. When I broached the subject with her, I was very promptly told that little boys didn't wear girls' clothes. However, the desire never went away. Several years later, at any opportunity, I would sneak into my mom's closet and try on her bras and panties. Why did she always choose undergarments that were so plain? Why not something stylish and sexy? I never understood that.

"I'm almost done, Jesse; I just need to finish your lips."

I smiled politely and tried to summon every ounce of patience I could muster. I had dreamed of this day for so long and I couldn't believe it was actually happening. Again, my mind drifted back as I tried to pass the time and allow Sara to complete her work. I thought of all the times I had tried on my mom's clothes, but they always looked so old and outdated. She only wore old-people's clothes and I never looked like the chic, pretty girls who I passed in the halls of junior high and high school.

"I'm done, Jesse."

I thought my heart would pound out of my chest. "Can I see, Sara?"

"Let's get the wig on first."

I took a deep breath while Sara adhered the mat of hair to my head. Errant strands were going everywhere at first until she began to brush it forward, over my shoulders, getting it under control. Out of the corner of my eye I could see loose curls on my chest. The long black locks matched my natural hair color almost perfectly.

She took two steps back and was standing directly in front of me as our eyes met. I saw her jaw drop open while she examined me. I just couldn't take the suspense any longer.

"Can I see what I look like so far?" I said desperately.

"I think it would be better if we waited until you are dressed so you'll get the full effect."

"Please ... I don't think I can wait."

"Okay, close your eyes."

She put her hands on my shoulders and gently swiveled the chair until I was facing the opposite direction, in front of the mirror.

"Okay ... open them."

As I looked into the mirror, I was so stunned I couldn't even form words. It was as if my brain refused to communicate with my mouth. Looking back at me in the mirror was a beautiful little Asian girl who looked as if she had just come off some runway in a fashion show. Sara's makeup job was impeccable; dare I say, flawless. She'd chosen colors that went perfectly with my natural skin tone and the bright red, glossy lipstick gave my lips that pouty look you only see on models in magazines.

While continuing to stare at my reflection in the mirror, I couldn't help but run a couple of fingers through my new hair. The long flowing locks and soft gentle curls seemed to set off my high cheekbones perfectly and really added to my feminine appearance.              

I had dreamed about this day for so many years, but not in my wildest imagination could I have ever thought the results would be even remotely close to this. It was as if I'd been transformed into a totally different person and I was having a hard time wrapping my mind around it. Finally, after several minutes, I was able to speak.

"Sara, thank you so much," I said as I tried to fight back tears. The last thing I wanted to do was cry and ruin her perfect makeup job.

She smiled at me. "You're welcome."

I was still studying my reflection in the mirror, trying to take in every subtlety, every detail, when Sara's voice broke me out of my trance. "What do you want to wear?"

"Honestly, I have no idea." I found it was nearly impossible to take my eyes off the mirror. "Why don't you just pick something for me."

While I continued to be awestruck at my reflection, Sara walked over to her wardrobe and began rummaging around in the mess, trying to find an outfit for me. I'd asked her repeatedly to let me help clean and organize that disaster area she called a closet, but she always refused, and after a while I just gave up. I came to the conclusion that some people just like to store their clothes in a chaotic mess.

After several minutes she produced an outfit from her closet and showed it to me for my approval. She'd chosen a very pretty white lace thong and bra set, which I instantly loved. To go over the lingerie she was holding a short light-blue jean skirt and a small black cowl-halter top. I knew the outfit would look perfect on me. I instantly removed the tank top and pulled my shorts down until they were on the floor and then I stepped out of them. Out of the corner of her eye I could see her looking down and inspecting my junk.

This was the first time I had ever been naked in front of another person and it was kind of a weird feeling. I was still really high from the pot and I reasoned that helped combat my modestness. Adding to my anxiety, I also had an erection. However, in this highly-charged, sexual moment, I thought sporting wood was totally justifiable and I hoped Sara would understand.              

She handed me the bra and I put it on, but she had to help me with the little hooks in the back. I didn't have much experience when it came to putting on or removing a brassiere.

Sara inspected me for a few moments. "Jesse, that doesn't look right, we need to figure out a way to give you some breasts," she said after breaking into a little smile. I watched as she thought for a moment. "This is the oldest trick in the book, but it should work."

She went back to her closet and pulled out a pair of gym socks. Then she rolled them up into little balls and stuffed them into the cups of the bra. We both turned and looked back into the mirror. It wasn't the perfect solution, and I would definitely look into getting some silicone bra inserts later on, but for now this should work fine.

Next, I grabbed the little thong and had it almost all the way up my thighs when I suddenly stopped.

"What's wrong Jesse? If you don't like that thong I can try to find another one, but I don't have a big selection right now because I need to do laundry."

No, Sara, it's not that, damn it. I might as well tell her, she's been so understanding with everything else...

"For this to look right, I have to be able to tuck my penis back, and I can't do that when I'm hard." A few moments of uncomfortable silence passed while I tried to figure out what to do.

"Would you let me help you with that?"

What do you mean? How in the world are you going to help?

I watched in stunned silence as she got on her knees in front of me. Sara, what are you doing?

I gasped as she gently took my erect cock into her mouth. It was one of the most exquisite feelings I'd ever experienced. Of course, I had masturbated before, probably a million times. However, it never felt anything even remotely as good as this. Her mouth was so warm and wet and I immediately, almost instinctively, began moving my hips in time with her mouth. The way she was sucking on me, the way her tongue felt as she moved it up and down the length of my cock, it just felt so incredibly good, and way before I wanted that experience to end I was close to orgasm.

Sara must have somehow sensed that I was close, and she immediately stopped, which allowed me to regain control of my body and delay the inevitable. This must have happened three or four times. She would take me right to the edge of the cliff, and just before I was about to go over it she would stop and allow me to pull back and regain control. After a couple of minutes she let my cock slip out of her mouth. She then looked up at me and our eyes met, and we smiled softly at each other.

Without warning, she took me back into her mouth and began sucking me at an almost frenzied pace. Rapidly, my orgasm began to build, and I knew there would be no way for her to slow down before I erupted. Between gasps, I tried to form words, because I wanted to give her a warning.

"Oh, God, Sara, I'm going to ..."

I expected her to slow down, or maybe even stop. But it just spurred her on, and she started sucking me even faster. Before I knew it, my knees were going weak and I exploded into her mouth. I was so aroused from the long, slow buildup of her applying my makeup and then dressing me in her clothes, it was the most intense orgasm I'd ever experienced.

When I was able to compose myself, I looked down and watched Sara lick the remaining semen from my penis as she cleaned it. Each time she found an errant bead of cum with her tongue, she'd swallow it before collecting more until she had totally cleaned me. I now had a much deeper appreciation for Sara's other talents and realized why she was so popular among the men on campus. When she was finished, our eyes met and I helped her up onto her feet.

"Thank you, Sara, for everything."

"You're welcome, now let's finish getting you dressed."

Now that I was flaccid, I was able to open my legs and carefully tuck my penis back. Then I closed them, which held my cock and balls securely in place. From there I was able to slide the little thong up my thighs and finish getting dressed.