Tranny Tales Ch. 03

The very next morning, I got a phone call from Clara, his Mom. Maxie was in the hospital, his state-of-the-art pump-up penis had exploded, and he was out of commission. The Doctors had never seen an exploding penis; that cockamamie invention was warranted for 15 years.

The docs could get Maxie a new gizmo under warranty, but his insurance did not cover his surgery. God knows when the Penis Pump factory will pay the medical bill. Maxie was now in the condition 'imperfecta,' or as the doc said, not yet finalized.

I was feeling lousy with a headache-hangover from drinking too much beer at the Super Bowl After Party down at Clancy's when I got the call filling me in on the explosive news. That's how I ended up with the job of evicting Guen. She had no rental contract, and Clara said she hid a new boyfriend under the bed when anyone in the family came around.

Mom said something about a dyed black-haired skinny kid with pimples who'd been sneaking in to visit her for some weeks now that Maxie wasn't collecting pussy in exchange for the rent. When I went over there to help arrange her departure, Guen said,

"I am truly sick of being cluster fucked. God knows how many times a month, by this guy's magical pump-up dick wand."

We negotiated, and I gave Guen $500 out of my pocket for her to get gone and any damages she might have suffered. The how and why of her involvement in the penis explosion was never elucidated. Gwendolyn packed her lone suitcase and left with her new boyfriend waiting outside in what looked like a converted funeral parlor hearse.

Before she left wearing a see-through tit blouse, she asked me,

"Could you make it an even $600, and I'll throw in a fuck or a blow job in the back of the hearse?"

Although the pimply guy watched us through the rearview mirror, I'd rather not discuss my answer. I could tell by his hand movements he was excited as he was jerking off. I went home that night feeling relieved of all my tension, and my headache was gone for good.

Oh yes, one other thing I learned that afternoon, Guen wasn't even a real girl, and her cock was so small it looked like a clitoris. That was a detail Maxie had left out, but nobody is perfect, except maybe Guendolin. After spending an hour with her and her tits that afternoon, I am well qualified. She was some tomato, but that will be a bareback story for another time.

Guen was nice enough to leave me her cell phone number, which is now in capital letters in the contact section of my iPhone, just in case my dick starts to itch one of these warm summer nights and my fat wife is busy snoring.