Chapter 5

"And here's Robert when he had the chicken pox," Mom said. "It was just awful. All that itching. Like a big diaper rash."

"Oh." Shelly nodded.

"Right after that, let's see ... That's right. He fell out of a tree and broke his wrist."

"Ouch!"

"Such a clumsy boy." Mom clucked her tongue. "And then he had his tonsils removed when he was nine."

"That's a lot of ice cream," Shelly said, smiling at me. "You look pretty cute."

"His father took this picture. Caught him flying right over the handlebars, see?"

How many mothers keep a photo album dedicated to illness and injury? Not many, I imagined, and I shuddered to think of Shelly's opinion. One natural disaster after another arranged in chronological order. Never mind the school pictures and family snapshots at Yellowstone. No birthdays or Christmas mornings, just Robert in pain. This was why I didn't bring flowers!

"Do you want to see some more?" Mom asked. "I have so many pictures, let's see..."

"No," I replied.

"I'd love to," Shelly said, overruling me.

We were sitting in the living room, except Mom liked to call it her front parlor, as if she'd actually grown up in age when people had such things. She wasn't even fifty yet and she acted like she was pushing seventy. How many mothers do that? I think she actually lamented the fact that she couldn't remember the day President Kennedy was shot, being all of a year old at the time.

"Ohhhh..." Mom smiled. "These are his high school pictures."

"What?" I tried to snatch the album away. "Don't show her those!"

"Robert!" She slapped at my hand and Shelly stifled a giggle, or pretended to anyway. I think she enjoyed the way my mother teased me. It probably explained why they were getting along so well.

"Mmmm..." Shelly smiled. "He looks so serious."

"I wish he would have been serious," Mom sighed. "All he was ever cared about was that hussy, Marilee Johnson."

"Oh," I said, rolling my eyes. "She's a hussy now?"

"Who?" Shelly looked at me.

"My old girlfriend."

"His only girlfriend," Mom sniffed. "Until he met you, dear."

She smiled and patted Shelly's knee, flipping through the album to find...

"Not my prom picture!"

"There she is," my mom tapped the photograph, "Marilee Johnson."

"She's pretty," Shelly said, narrowing her eyes the way a cat will when it sees a mouse.

"Hmph!" Mom snorted. "She was two months pregnant when this was taken."

"Really?" Shelly turned her suspicious eyes on me.

"With my best friend's baby," I hastened to add. "I didn't know anything about it."

"She was cheating on you?"

"She broke my poor Robert's heart," Mom said, dabbing at her left eye. "He cried for days."

"Marilee told me she was saving her virginity," I explained, "for our wedding night. And I didn't cry."

"You were going to marry her?"

"It's all they talked about," Mom said. "Well ... Thank goodness they didn't!"

"Did she break your heart?" Shelly asked, teasing me with an impish smile. She seemed much too happy now that she knew my old girlfriend was a cheating slut.

"I got over it," I replied dryly. "Anybody want to play Yahtze?"

"Oh, you poor baby," she sighed, pulling me close and giving me a kiss on the lips. "Do you want me to kiss it for you? Make it all better, huh?"

She kissed me again, but much deeper this time. I hadn't expected Shelly's tongue, not in front of my mother, but that's precisely what I was getting. She stroked my chest and filled my mouth with her tongue, and even added a low, whimpering sort of moan. The sexy kind, like she was somebody's little girl giving up her virtue after Sunday school. It made my dick hard for some reason, but that could have been Shelly's tits rubbing against me, too.

"Uh ... More tea?" Mom asked.

"Are you going to tell her?" Shelly asked, breathing the words loud enough for my mother to hear.

"Tell me what?"

"I don't, um..." I glanced at my mom, which only made it worse.

"If you don't, I will."

"Tell me what?" Mom repeated, not knowing if she should be smiling or not. Her lips went up and down as if trying to decide.

"I really think we should wait," I said.

There was no way I could tell my mother that my new girlfriend, the one she liked so much, was really a man. It would only confuse her, if I was lucky, or kill her, if I wasn't. I mean, we'd had a nice afternoon. We'd had a pot roast and mashed potatoes. I'd given Mom her flowers. We'd had our awful English tea and waded through the life of her little boy, chicken pox and all. Why spoil it?

"I'm going to tell her," Shelly decided, being headstrong by nature and not a little stubborn, as I was learning.

"Somebody had better tell me something," Mom said. "Robert?"

"No," I said, begging Shelly with my eyes. "Please?"

"Well..." She looked down as if composing her thoughts. "Robert has asked me to marry him."

"Oh!" Mom smiled.

"What?" I blinked at her.

"And I said yes!" Shelly practically squealed, and then they were hugging for some reason.

"That's wonderful," Mom said. "I'm so happy for the both of you. Oh, Robert!"

She had to hug me as well and my mother had started to cry. For real this time. Even Shelly had tears running down her cheeks, I was surprised to see.

"Why wouldn't you want to tell me, Robert?" Mom wondered, leaving me completely at a loss. Thankfully, Shelly was right there with a ready answer.

"Because he hasn't given me a ring yet," she explained, holding up her left hand and wiggling her empty finger. "Bobby's a little self-conscious about it."

"A ring?" Mom looked surprised suddenly. I mean, even more than she had when she found out I was getting married. Or maybe it wasn't surprise, but the sort of look people get when a light bulb goes off.

"Are you alright?" I wondered.

"I'll be right back," she said, leaving Shelly and I to sit on the sofa.

"Are you crazy?" I hissed. "I didn't ask you to marry me!"

"You didn't want me to tell her about my penis, did you?"

"No! Of course not."

"So?" She giggled. "What are you mad about?"

"Shelly!"

"You love me anyway," she said. "So I don't see what difference it makes."

"Marriage is a big deal," I protested. "You can't just tell my mom we're getting married and..."

"Shhh ... Here she comes," Shelly whispered. "Act normal."

"Normal?" I shook my head at the word. I didn't even know what normal was anymore, not since that first time Shelly had knocked on my door. That hadn't even been a week ago and now we were engaged?

"This is my engagement ring," Mom said, even before she could sit down. "It belonged to my mother and if I'd had a daughter, well ... I would have given it to her."

"It's beautiful," Shelly said, and it was a pretty big diamond, I guess.

I hadn't seen it since my dad had run off with his secretary. Mom had taken off her rings and I wouldn't have been surprised if she'd melted them down into bullets, which is what she'd threatened to do at the time. I guess she hadn't done anything but put them away ... until now.

"Maybe it'll bring you more luck than I had," Mom said, giving the ring to Shelly.

"What?" I stared at her.

"I can't take your engagement ring," Shelly said, but she was already slipping it onto her finger.

"Of course you can," Mom insisted. "Look at that. A perfect fit!"

They had to hug some more, naturally. And they were crying again? I'd totally underestimated my mother's desire to see me hitched. Jesus! What would she say if she ever found out the truth? That Shelly had been my shemale prostitute birthday present. Mom would kill me.

"She's going to kill me," I sighed. "I can't believe my mom gave you her engagement ring."

"I know!" Shelly was all smiles. "It's gorgeous. I'm so happy, Bobby. Thank you!"

"For what?" I wondered, debating whether to take the tunnel or the bridge. For being a Sunday night, the traffic was murder!

"For asking me to marry you," she replied. "For being so sweet and handsome and wonderful to me all the time."

Shelly was all over me. Seriously. I had trouble driving, almost side swiping a Caddy because her hands kept roaming over my shoulders and chest, my thighs, and even my crotch. Just then the girl seemed determined to jerk me off in my pants while I did my best to ignore the constant ache in my balls. I wasn't exactly in the mood for playing around, you know? I'd just gotten engaged.

And now my transsexual fiancé was trying to convince me that it had been my idea. Maybe she wanted to convince herself as well, I couldn't be sure. I had the brief thought that Shelly might be one of those psycho girlfriends that are always showing up in the Post. You know, the ones who move into a guy's life while he's on vacation or whatever. Or worse, one of those girls who kills her boyfriend and just tells everyone he's on vacation. There's always a story like that in the newspapers and the way Shelly was acting...

Nah. I knew she wasn't going to kill me and I never went anywhere on vacation except to Jersey. I liked playing blackjack and I was actually pretty good at it. Like really good, but I'd always had a head for numbers and counting a five deck shoe isn't as hard as most people think it is. All you have to remember is...

"What?"

"I said I need to stop by my place and pick up a few things," Shelly told me. "It'll just take a minute."

"Yeah. We're going to your place," I said, not quite understanding what she meant.

"Good." She smiled and gave my cock an extra nice squeeze.

"I have to work tomorrow."

"Me too."

"So, um..." I smiled back at her. "I'm dropping you off."

"Excuse me?"

"Right?" My smile faltered. "We both need to get up early and..."

"We're getting married, Bobby."

"Well, yeah, maybe, sorta, I guess."

"I've got the ring to prove it," Shelly reminded me. "So I think I should move in."

"Move in where?"

"Silly!" She giggled. "You're so funny sometimes. I swear, I can't tell when you're teasing me!"

"Oh, yeah," I tried to chuckle, but it didn't come out right.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." I cleared my throat. "Maybe, um ... We should kind of date a little more first. What do you think?"

"I think I should move in with you."

"But ... I'm not sure if I can have pets," I said, thinking quickly. "I'd have to check my lease, you know?"

"I know you're nervous," she sighed, practically curling up in my lap. "But you don't have to be. I'm going to take care of you, Bobby."

"You are?"

"Absolutely," she said, kissing my cheek as if it was all settled. "I'm going to fuck your brains out every night and make you breakfast every morning."

"Okay," I nodded. "Well, um..."

How could I have lost the argument so quickly? That's what I wanted to know. I mean, we'd just started and Shelly had won already? How was that fair?

"You're lucky you've got a girl like me," she decided, pulling my arm around her shoulder. "You know why?"

"Cause you're so beautiful?"

"Besides that!" She giggled. "Guess again."

"Um ... You never get PMS?"

"Bobby!" She pouted playfully. "Well, I guess that's true, but no. You're lucky because I'm the girl who loves you."

"I was going to say that next."

"Liar!"

"No, I really was," I said with a grin. "You just didn't give me a chance."

"I love you," Shelly sighed.

"Yeah, I love you too," I decided, but I still wasn't too sure about this moving in thing.

"Bobby ... Come on, baby," she sang, giggling. "Rise and shine, sleepyhead."

"Hmmmm..." I didn't want to wake up. The bed felt too soft, too warm and comfortable. My alarm hadn't even gone off yet.

"Alright," Shelly sighed. "If you don't want to get up, I guess I'll just have to serve you breakfast in bed."

"Umkay," I agreed, being more awake than asleep, but not wanting to admit it.

I felt the bed jostling and a fleeting draft of cool air as Shelly slipped under the covers behind me. I liked to sleep on my side and her warm, naked body pressed against mine made everything perfect again. That's how we'd fallen asleep the night before, our first night living together.

She kissed my shoulder and reached over me with her arm, rubbing my chest and lower. My cock was hard, like it always is when I wake up, and I felt a vague, but growing need for the bathroom. Even that seemed comfortable, however, being a familiar and welcome reminder that everything was normal. I'd never been much of a morning person and I'd bought my alarm clock because it had the biggest snooze button I could find.

"Ohhhh..." I winced as Shelly's cock found my asshole, but I still didn't open my eyes. She moved gently and I was still wet down there from the night before, greasy inside with her cum, and very relaxed. I even smiled, moving my hips and lifting my leg slightly to give her that much more room.

"This is what you were waiting for, huh?" She laughed lightly, working her cock into my rectum, every fat inch of it with one long push.

"Uh-huh," I sighed, nodding my head on the pillow.

We didn't say anything else, we only fucked for a nice long time. Shelly used me like a girl, driving her cock into my boy pussy harder and faster as the minutes passed. She played with my penis, jerking me off so that I had no choice but to hunch my hips against the pleasure. This had quickly become our favorite form of lovemaking, or at least mine, and I didn't even mind the odd sensation of her old cum being churned like butter in my bowels.

I don't know how she did it, but Shelly always managed to bring me off just a few seconds before she found her orgasm. Perhaps the way my ass seemed to spasm in time with my spurting penis pushed her over the edge, I'm not sure, but we could both feel those sweet contractions gripping her cock. I gasped, shooting my load between her fingers and onto the bed, while Shelly groaned, pumping hot semen against the sensitive pillow of my prostate. I loved that feeling as well and I had to agree with my girlfriend...

"You're such a pussy." She giggled breathlessly, kissing my cheek. "But I love you anyway, baby. Did you feel me cumming?"

"Yeah," I sighed. "It feels good."

"Maybe you should be the one wearing panties," Shelly teased me. "Come on. You need a shower and I need to make you breakfast. How do you want your eggs?"

"Do I have to?" I wondered, rolling over with a smile.

For some reason, I always felt wonderful after having sex with Shelly. More than I might have expected, I mean. Like cumming always felt good, but this was more like a general sense of well being. I don't know, it's hard to describe, but definitely unmistakable, too. I also found myself wanting her more than usual, although after only a week, I wasn't exactly sure what usual was yet. I only knew I didn't want to let her go and she didn't stop me as I ducked under the covers.

"Bobby! You're going to be late for work," she protested, spreading her legs and pulling my mouth to her semi-hard cock.

"Umm-hmmph!" I agreed, closing my lips around the smooth glans and washing her with my tongue.

She tasted bitter-sweet with a pinch of salt, her shaft wet and sticky with the remains of my cum soaked ass. I didn't mind the flavor at all as I fondled Shelly's soft scrotum and slid my mouth slowly, very deliberately up and down. I wanted to make her cum and eat her creamy semen for breakfast.

"Ohhhh..." she breathed, playing with my ears and lifting her hips. "Suck my cock, baby. You're getting so good at it now. Fuck me with your mouth. That's it ... Oh!"

I held her cock with my right hand, stroking her in time with my mouth. Shelly had grown fully erect, rock hard once again, and I might have marveled at her stamina if I hadn't been so preoccupied with coaxing the milk from her balls. We'd been having a lot of sex since Friday night. A full weekend of nothing but sucking and fucking. I didn't even remember Saturday. We'd stayed in bed all day, I think, but Sunday we'd at least gotten out of the house long enough to get engaged.

That was weird. Saturday, I mean. I remembered falling asleep Friday night, cradled in Shelly's arms with her cock still hard inside me, and then ... I woke up Sunday morning. We fucked. I sucked her off in the shower. We had breakfast and then we fucked some more before going to my mother's house. But what happened to Saturday?

Anyway, my point is that Shelly must have been running on empty after all that sex, but when I finally brought her off in my hungry mouth I had to swallow quickly! She came a lot, like always, holding my head with both hands and lifting her butt off the bed. Shelly fucked my mouth even as her semen filled my tummy, warming me emotionally as much as physically. When she came inside me, whether in my ass or mouth, I knew I loved her. All of my doubts were washed away completely, leaving me with nothing but a deep, desperate longing to be with her forever.

I might have expected something like that when I was cumming, and I sort of did, but not like this. Not as clearly as when Shelly's climax overwhelmed my senses. That's what it felt like, too. She dominated me. All I could see, hear, touch, taste, and smell was her. Like my world had shrunk to that one precious moment when we were joined, inseparable in our love.

Maybe I was going crazy.

"Drink all your juice," Shelly said. "You need your vitamins. A sexy man like you can't live on protein alone."

"I'm sexy now?" I grinned at her and drank my juice like a good boy.

"You are to me, baby." She giggled and jerked away as I reached for her ass. "Don't start anything you can't finish!"

"Me?" I took a deep breath, drinking the girl in with my eyes.

She looked amazing just standing there with my old bathrobe knotted loosely around her waist. Her legs were right there, tanned and toned like the rest of her. The front opened just enough that I could see the awesome swell of her firm, upturned breasts. Were they C-cups, I wondered, thinking they had to be, but what did I know about bra sizes? I only knew her swollen nipples fit my mouth perfectly, her heavy breasts felt like heaven as they filled my hands. And further down, beneath Shelly's taut, well-defined and utterly female tummy, her long, fat cock stood stiffly pointed at my mouth.

Fuck! I wanted her so badly it hurt.

"Tonight," she whispered, pushing me out of the kitchen and towards the door. "I'll give you everything you need, baby."

"I love you," I said, stealing a taste of her smile.

"I know," Shelly said, teasing me with a gut wrenching giggle and those big blue eyes of hers. "I'll call you from the gym."

"You're going to the gym?"

"Of course! I have to look good for our wedding, remember?"

"You look great," I told her, but she'd already pushed me out of the apartment by then. I really didn't feel like going to work.

Thankfully, I was able to rein in my lust and read my newspaper on the subway, ignoring the same old anonymous people I saw every morning. Actually, I didn't see them at all, and New York is strange that way. All those millions of people, living and working and playing together in one place, but all of us strangers. I knew perhaps fifty people by name and maybe five of them were what I'd call friends, but not the close sort. Until I'd met Shelly, I hadn't been close to anyone since high school.

Of course, being totally betrayed by my best friend didn't help. After Mike told me he'd been fucking my girlfriend for months behind my back, it became rather difficult to trust anyone ever again. I trusted Shelly though ... Didn't I? She was living in my apartment. We were engaged. I'd known her exactly seven days.

I tried to Google her. "Shelly Smith," I breathed, typing the words and getting 287,401 matches. Oops! I turned the porn filters on and ran the search again. Only a couple thousand hits that time, but I suppose there were a lot of Shelly Smith's in the world. I tried to narrow it down with "New York" and "Blonde" and "22 years old" and ... What was the name of her firm? "Rowe, Johns, and Morgan" attorney's-at-law ... Didn't help me at all. None of it did.

I even tried running a search on "Shelly Smith Transsexual Escort New York" but that came up blank ... Until I turned the filters back off.

"Oh!" I swallowed hard as I opened a web page and saw my fiancé's smiling face.

She described herself as a beautiful, outgoing, college coed offering generous men and couples the pleasure of her company. By appointment only, I read, just above a phone number. "Call me!" Shelly's website suggested and I decided to do just that. I knew she'd been an escort, obviously, but she'd also told me she'd quit that particular line of work. I didn't hold it against her. I'm sure it couldn't have been easy putting herself through college, but on the other hand, I really didn't want to marry a prostitute!

"We're sorry, the number you are trying to reach is no longer in service..."

I breathed a sigh of relief. Shelly hadn't lied to me. After that I felt pretty guilty about doubting her the way I had. I consoled myself by jerking off beneath my desk as I looked through her "Private Online Portfolio" as it was called. Shelly in lingerie. Shelly in a bikini. Shelly in her bra and panties, stroking the obvious bulge of her penis through the silk. Nothing pornographic. Nothing obscene. Just the woman I loved selling her charms on the internet, except she wasn't selling anything to anyone anymore.

I felt really good about that, as any man would, I'm sure. But I made a mental note to ask Shelly to take her website down. I mean, we were getting married, after all.