You really didn't like to drink to excess that much, alcohol made you feel slow, and stupid, and clumsy. Flirting never went so well because you were self-conscious when drunk, worried that you were talking too much, and plus you had big, fat Italian pores that tried to sweat the alcohol from your body. In clubs, you only drank enough to feel loose and a little less inhibited- not that you had many inhibitions to begin with -but at home with a friend you could pack it away, secure that you would pass out on your own couch.

You were a very loving drunk; your friends became just the most beautiful people after a few longnecks. You liked to tell them that, too, liked to put your arm around their shoulders and hang off of them, kiss their cheeks, put your head on their shoulders, anything to get a little affection. You could get a little paranoid sometimes, that your friends didn't like you as much as you liked them. Generally, your friends were forced to take this in stride, and pat, and pet, and occasionally kiss you back with equal intensity.

You got chatty, too, and too stupid to lie. Sometimes you got yourself in trouble, but mostly you managed to engage people in long, meandering conversations that seemed cool and coherent, but in retrospect were often pointless and jumbled. And dirty. You wanted, and thought, and talked about sex a lot when you were drunk.

JC didn't hold his liquor well at all, and he got annoyed easily sometimes. He only drank when he wanted to, which wasn't often, but when he did it was often with you. You could make a fantastically unproductive afternoon with two six packs, and sometimes a bit of pot. You didn't end up smoking much though, because JC was scared for his vocal cords, and you never liked to smoke alone.

One afternoon, the week before you and the guys were headed out to New Orleans to start stage rehearsals, you and JC ended up on the subject of kinks and fantasies. Namely those of the people you both had dated and slept with.

You mentioned a girl who wanted to tie you up, and that you really hadn't enjoyed the role-play, because "domineering" to her meant she should be a really big bitch. She called you, "Piggy," you told her to fuck off. She went home in tears, even though, hello, you had been the one insulted.

"That bites, dude," JC said, irrelevantly.

You shrugged, "It's not my thing, and I don't think it ever will be. But it would be cool to, you know..." You coughed, and decided to stop yourself.

"What?" JC asked. Of course he would be curious.

"Nothing, just... a thing." JC looked at you, and you couldn't help but to clarify. "A thing I've wanted to try."

JC looked intrigued, "What?"

"I just, you know, always thought it would be cool to use handcuffs. But all the girls I've dated are all into romance, and roses, and I haven't dated a guy since high school and we were just so thrilled to be having sex that kinks were sort of a far off thing."

"Handcuffs?" JC asked, in a musing sort of way.

"Yeah, like," you laughed. "Nevermind."

"No," JC said earnestly. "What?"

"Like a cop. Like I was a cop, and I'd caught myself a pretty little criminal and had my own idea of justice." Said all in one breath it didn't sound so bad, did it?

JC gave you a funny look, but didn't say anything. He smiled off into nothing, and suddenly you felt as though you were at some sort of disadvantage. So you asked, "What about you?"

"I don't think I'd like pretending to be a cop, no."

You sighed, "No, I mean, what's your secret fantasy. The crazy, stupid thing that people do in porn but that you could never bring yourself to ask a someone to do."

JC raised his eyebrows in very unenthusiastic surprise, "If I wouldn't ask my lover, why would I tell you?"

"Because it's me. If there is any anyone on this planet who will love you just the same after you reveal whatever sick, twisted thing it is you jerk off to at night, it's me."

"Was that supposed to inspire faith in you, Joey? Cause it didn't. At all."

"I told you mine!" You are aware that sounded childish, and don't care.

JC rolled his eyes, "Yours was stupid."

"Yeah? I bet yours is, too," you snapped, taking a contemplative sip of his beer. You looked at him, and said what you thought it might be, "Is it spanking?"

JC nearly spit out his beer, "What?"

"Spanking."

"No! Joey... I just... I mean- ew."

"I read somewhere you liked it kinky."

"Read where?"

You smiled vaguely, "Not important. Hmmm, voyeurism? You like to watch?"

"No, Joey, it's- just... no."

You searched your mind for different things, "Oh gross, it's not... it doesn't involve, um, nevermind." You didn't want to know if it was that. "C'mon, C. What is it? Tell me, tell me, tell me."

"Fuck, you're annoying." JC pushed you away and not entirely playfully. That was a fatal mistake, because then you had to drape yourself over him to make sure that he still liked you. So you rested your head heavily on his shoulder, and brought your legs up onto the couch so you could curl in around him.

You put your arm across JC's waist to stop him from squirming, and asked "You don't love me?" in your freakishly high falsetto, trying to be cute.

"Joey..." JC's tone was tired, and you knew you had only a small window of time before JC got mad and tried to leave.

"There's nothing you could say, to make me lose any respect for you." You stayed where you were, because you knew that JC liked physical affection as much as you did; he was just more afraid to ask for it.

"I don't know about that."

"JC, do you remember the time I threw up on your shoes?"

"And my jeans. Yes."

"Did you lose any respect for me?"

"No, just a pair of well fitting jeans."

"Remember the time I forgot you were in the room, and tried having sex with Kelly when you were in the other bed?"

"Um," JC looked to his extreme right. "Unfortunately."

"Do you get the idea now, or do I have to keep going?"

"Um," JC said again.

You sighed, and pulled up another embarrassing moment, this time going for when you'd told your mom that JC was bi right in front of JC's brother, who didn't know. "Remember when-"

"Alright- fuck you -fine. You have to promise me, Joey, promise you won't tell the other guys."

You sat up and got into your best "listening" pose, looking directly at JC, leaning forward over your crossed legs a little. "Sure, man. This is just between you and me."

JC finished off his beer, and grabbed another. "Sometimes, I think it would be really hot if I could," he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "If I could, um, dress as... you know, as a girl, and get fucked."

You blinked, slowly, and your mind came up with a lot of images, some of them scary- like JC as a gay club drag queen, all jarring make-up, and horrible sequined gowns -and some of them strangely tantalizing- like JC in soft, knee-length summer dress, bending over to show a glimpse of his flat, but muscled chest. You coughed, and wanted him to clarify, "You mean in a dress?"

JC's cheeks were red, red, red. It reminded you of when you and Steve used to stay up late and fuck around with your flashlights in the dark, doing things like putting them in your mouth, and under your hand to see how transparent your skin could be. "Yeah," JC took another deep breath, "A dress. And you know, the shoes. I, um-"

You leaned forward a little more, and said without any hint of humor in your voice, "You like the shoes?"

"Yeah," he drank a long draught of beer, almost half the bottle.

"And you've never done that?" You asked because if he'd done it with that really hot German boyfriend he had back in '97, you might have some new jerk-off material.

"No," he shook his head, and missed the speculative look on your face. Maybe he hadn't done it before, but he could sure as hell do it now. "I never really had a lover who was into it."

You were into it, very into it. You hadn't really thought of JC's as something sexy, something desirable, because he was just such a fucking goof. Lately though, he'd come into his own, and was this beautiful, glittering, happy person, who enjoyed sophisticated things like wine and art, and actually wrote good songs. There was still a touch of sweet, geeky insecurity, but that made him all the more endearing. Now the thought of him in a dress, all the best things of male and female in one package... you wanted to see that, wanted to experience, and worship that.

So you said so, living up to that reputation you have of being an honest drunk. "Let's do it. I mean, it shouldn't be too hard. I've had to do drag once or twice, not... like, for a pleasing effect, it was more comedic, but we could do it. You'd um, I think you'd be really pretty in one. Really pretty." When you looked at him, and his soft, soft hair, and fragile looking bones, and you could almost see it. Almost.

"Really?" JC looked at you in utter surprise. "How? I mean-"

"Don't worry about it, let's just go." You stood up and offered him your hand.

"Go where?" he asked, taking it, but not using it to stand just yet.

"Shopping," you replied. It amazed you how truly obtuse JC could be.

"You can't drive, you're drunk. I can't drunk, either, I'm-" he shook his head. "I mean, I can't drive either... obviously." He dropped Joey's hand, and sat back, taking a sip of the beer still in his left hand.

"Well, how else are we going to do this? I don't have any dresses here, and I doubt my neighbor would be keen on my stealing some of hers, so unless you want to take the bus-"

"That sounds like a good idea."

"The bus?" You didn't like the sound of that, you could go around unnoticed, but JC was JC.

"Come on, Joey. Prove you're still the Average Joe. Ride the bus, save the environment."

"JC you drive an Excursion. You have four hundred dollar pants."

JC was instantly indignant, and gestured wildly with his beer, "It's a good car, shut up. It suits all my needs. It's not a status symbol car, it's utilitarian." He glared at you, "And I like my pants. They were worth it."

"Whatever."

"I'm not letting you drive drunk. With your luck you'll hit a tree, or a kid, or some fan's dog."

"Fine." You wanted to see JC in that dress so bad that you and he walked right out of the sprawling gated community you lived in, and waited at the bus stop near the Exxon. The downtown bus came and you both got on it, JC looked cute and young in your big blue Superman cap. You looked like you were heading home from your mechanic's job. The bus ride was long and quiet, and you wondered why JC didn't seem as nervous about this as you were. But JC was just weird enough to take the offer to dress up as a girl and get fucked by your best friend in stride.

Maybe he just couldn't believe that it's happening. After all, you could just barely believe it yourself.

Two hours later you both returned a nearly three hundred bucks worth of "just the right thing." You could barely wait to get it all on him. You took the largest bag away from JC, "We'll do the dress last, okay?"

JC nodded, completely silent, he toed off his shoes and took a box from a different bag, you let him. You smiled as he slid on the strappy, white sandals he'd bought. They had two-inch heels, and pinched up JC's feet so that they looked smaller. The straps don't bite in much, and had a way of making his feet look elegant, like they might belong to a Greek goddess. They were just the right shade, and the right style for the dress JC had gotten.

They clicked as JC walked, and twirled, and did a few steps from their choreography.

You watched him for a second and said, "Stop that dancin' twinkle toes, let's go upstairs. I gotta do your make-up."

JC smiled at you and clicked up the stairs, wiggling his ass as he did. Was everything he did sexy no matter how unconscious? You grabbed the bags and followed him up. After he shaved, JC sat on your toilet, legs tucked back and face tipped up as you carefully applied the make-up, twice. You were glad that when you'd charmed the woman behind the cosmetic counter to show you how to apply make up, she had taken off her own make up with the cleansing sheets you'd bought a box of at her insistence.

By the second try you had JC's eyes lined with a soft, smoky brown. A light brown eye shadow accentuated his heavy eyelids, the shape of his eyes, and paleness of JC's silver irises. The only black you used was the mascara; JC's eyes needed softening, not dramatizing. You ended up using a lot of foundation to hide JC's big pores, and then a lot of powder to counteract the dull finish of the liquid color. You knew better than to try blush, even though JC wanted you to.

"JC, believe me, you've got enough cheekbone."

Anyway, it was his lips your were most proud of, the woman behind the counter had told you that cherry red was in this season, but JC's mouth painted red would have just been comical. You chose the shade called Dusky Rose, and got it in the hi-gloss formula. JC's mouth looked barely bruised, and shiny, you'd exaggerated the bow of his lips just a little to get a more feminine curve.

You had more trouble with his hair because even though it was long, and in chunky layers, it wasn't cut like a girls chunky layers at all. The sparkly barrettes helped a lot, and you copied Beth in marketing's hairstyle as much as you could. You parted JC's "bangs" to the left, two barrettes holding in place the longer lock, and one tuck just above the ear for the shorter. You gelled the rest of his hair, scrunching it up to give it volume, and a look of punky disarray. It did look a little like Beth's, only less edgy-cute, and more... just cute. Especially with the glitter you put in it afterwards.

JC looked at his reflection with a little pleased smile as he undressed. He had his shirt off when you came in with the dress and its other accessories. JC smiled big for you, but took a shaky breath when he turned his back. You sat on the bed, and waited, and waited, and waited. JC opened the door, and you just held your breath.

It turns out that was a good move, because if you hadn't been holding your diaphragm still, you might have gasped. JC was beautiful. Still male, ever undeniably male, but beautiful. The dress really was a find, and it didn't matter then the boutique wanted a hundred and twelve bucks for it. The shade of blue made JC's skin look milkier, and the small sleeves cut at a forty-five degree angle made his shoulders look smaller. The v-neck showed the cleft of between JC's pecs, and that was somehow so much hotter than real cleavage. The best illusion was provided by the form-fitting waist and the fullness of the skirt, you could almost imagine a slim swell of hips. The hem ended just below the knee, and all you could see was the smooth curves of JC's calves and his smart little sandals. Smooth?

"You shave?"

JC looked at his legs, and lifted the skirt a little, "I did. Up to the knee anyway. You might wanna get a new razor."

"Bastard."

"Bitch," JC corrected.

He didn't really look like any girl you'd seen; no type, or style fit him completely. The dress belonged on a breezy day in South Hampton, but the hair was funky and hip, and the make-up was soft and subtle. Yet JC brought it all together into a spun-glass beauty, fragile and intricate. So much of it was the fact that you could pick out the parts of JC that were male, like his nose, and his brow, and the width of his shoulders, and what was feminine, like his wrists and the shape of his eyes, and soft wave to his hair.

JC twirled under your scrutiny with practiced grace, spinning the hem out and up, offering a tantalizing flash of pale thighs. "Where are we going?"

"Hm?" you asked, wanting to reach out and catch JC's waist, it looked so small in the little, blue dress.

JC looked at you, finally able to focus on something other than the way his body moved in this new garment. "You know... to find someone who's into this. The... um, the other half of the fantasy."

Oh, you though. Oh. All this... it wasn't for you, you were just the helper. Your sense of accomplishment vanished in a gust of reality. The transformation that you'd tailor made for yourself was actually for some stranger in a discreet gay bar.

"What's wrong?"

You're not drunk anymore, but you decide to be honest. Just in case. "I just thought that you know, we were doing this together."

JC blinked, "We are. We'll go out and get you a guy likes to get tied up, and-"

"No," you told him, and it hurts. "I thought this would be me, you, and the dress. No one else." You waited for his reaction to that, and, as always with JC, it was a second or two too late.

"Really?"

"Yeah," you said, looking down at the floor. "Okay, yeah... this is awkward. If you just want to field this one by yourself I'll understand."

You started to turn away but JC whispered, "Joey, Joey," and you had to look back. When you did, JC threw his slightly too muscled arms around your neck and kissed you with clumsy-eager-desperate kisses. You finally did put your hands on his hips to pull him flush against you, and JC broke the kiss to laugh breathily. He wiped his thumb across your stained lips, but you caught his wrist and tugged it out of the way to you could kiss him again. JC's arms squeezed tighter, and he made an eager noise as you licked past waxy lips into JC's hot, wet mouth.

You lifted your hands from his waist and slid them down from JC's sharp shoulders, down the curve of his spine, and the one hand stayed at the small of JC's back while the other smoothed over JC's ass. So it wasn't so soft and round as girls, but it was just lovely how JC pressed it back into your hand. You left his mouth pinked-smeared and panting as you nuzzled his neck.

"How do you want to do this?" you asked, it wasn't your fantasy, though it was quickly becoming one.

"With the dress on," JC gasped when you started licking the end of his jaw, "And um, hard. Fuck me hard, okay?"

Can do, you thought. Can fucking do. You got down on your knees, and put your hands on JC's ankles, pulling them slowly up JC's legs, your palms on the curve of his calves, and then the sensitive backs of his knees. From then on you were lifting the skirt higher and higher as you went, and when you looked up to glimpse JC's face he was looking down at you with an intensity even JC could rarely muster. You looked back down when your hands slid up JC's thighs, fingers just brushing the between them, you could feel the muscles trembling just a little.

You stood back up, the "l's" of your thumbs and index fingers, just under the swell of JC's ass, and bent your knees to lift up. JC's legs were wrapped around your waist almost as soon as you had them spread. He grabbed the shirt material on your shoulders, breathing hard down into your face as your mouths crashed together. You held him against the wall for a moment, thumping your hips against his once, and then again to hear him whimper again.

You lay him down on your big white bed. The Porn King, Justin called it, but you have a feeling it'll serve you well. JC's knees were raised and parted, the hem of the skirt slipping down. God that's sexy, but as you try to lay yourself between them, JC told you, "Stop, wait."

He pushed at your chest and you wondered what you did wrong. You find yourself standing again, and JC kind of slithers down and onto his knees in the space between you and the bed. He buried his face into your zipper, mouthing against the outline of your erection. Maybe this was probably part of the fantasy JC had cultivated over the years, but you remember JC was a little shy about putting dicks in his mouth, so maybe this is just for you.

He tugged down your zipper, and then your pants, sucking the tip into his mouth with little fanfare. You thought that by twenty-four JC should at least have gotten a little practice, but issues are issues, and at least he's doing this for you. He could take you in deep, too, he wasn't afraid of that; wet, heat pulling at you, swallowing you, the textured surface of his tongue curling around you. He got into a rhythm, holding your hips and working your cock in this "mine, all mine" fashion that made you shiver from the inside out. You almost got lost in the slick slide of his mouth, but when you thrust in a little, JC pulled away, his meditative state broken.

You had a lot of ideas at this point, dirty images plastered on the inside of your eyelids. You really wished you were strong enough- or that JC was light enough –for you to fuck him against a wall or something, skirt pushed up, one sleeve off the shoulder as he held onto you and moaned, but there was another, and equally attractive, alternative.

"Here, get up," you sat him down on the bed, just on the edge, kissed him until he was hanging off you, hands linked loosely at the base of your neck. "Baby," you said, softly, and he smiled and sighed. You smoothed your hands down his chest to find the peaked nipples hidden in the folds of fabric, pressing, circling, pinching until JC couldn't sit still, then you slid your hands to his hips then and turned him over.

JC was bent over the bed now, breathing deeply and quietly, eyes tightly closed like it was just barely in his ability to handle everything. He fisted his hands in the sheets and keened a little when your mouth touched the back of his neck, and your fingers found the laces of his dress. The crisscross back was one of the reasons JC had liked the dress so much, it was sexy without being too hard to wear. The little triangles of exposed skin were irresistible, to touch, to trace, to lick. While you could, you knelt over him, kissing his back as you loosened the blue laces, rolling your hips against him. Finally, you had to shift back to lick your tongue over the hot skin of JC's lower back, to pull two fingers down the length of his spine and watch him arch as the muscles tightened.

You slipped your hands under the hem of his skirt, running your hands again up the backs of his thighs. You palmed his pert, little ass because you could, because you had always wanted to, then hooked your thumbs into the waistband of the silk panties and pulled. You hadn't actually gotten much mileage out of them you realized, they'd been hidden from you most of the time, but maybe JC had, no matter. You pushed his skirt up, past the rise of his ass, where you hoped it would stay out of your way.

You spread his cheeks a bit, pressing your thumb to his opening, not pushing in yet, but like it was a button. Sure enough, it got JC to writhing pretty quickly, just to be aware of that part of himself. You couldn't wait to see how he would react when you ran your tongue down from the cleft to the tight ring of muscle, and then in.

Turned out, he arched first, impossibly high off the bed, then he spread his legs wider, and started saying your name. You'd been around the block more then a few times, and had done a lot of things, nothing really phased you, so even though this was technically the first time you'd ever done this, JC probably wouldn't guess.

Then again, JC probably didn't care. You didn't know what you were supposed to do, and JC wasn't giving much in the way of feedback because apparently everything was cool as far as rimming was concerned. But he especially liked it when you drew a circle with the tip of your tongue, so you did that a few times and sat back and went in search of the lube, kicking off your pants first.

"God, Joey," JC whispered. His cheek was against the comforter, so he could watch you move about. He didn't move at all, like he was a little worried he wasn't going to make it through you sliding your fingers inside him to get him ready for you.

You were still thinking clearly enough to warm up the lube a little before pressing in that first finger. JC sighed and started rocking, against the bed, against your finger.

"Don't get yourself off too early," you told him, the ache of your erection was getting harder to ignore.

"Then fuck me," JC said. You slid in another finger, and started stroking his perineum with your thumb. "Joey, fuck me."

You're supposed to tell him no? You didn't think so, so you climbed onto the bed and JC climbed after you. You lay on your back so you could look up at JC as you fuck him, and JC could look down at himself as you do. It was too fucking hot when JC had to lift up his skirt before he could straddle you, to arrange it out before he could line himself up with you and push back. He put his hands on your stomach when you were completely in, looking at the blanket and not you as he adjusted, unconsciously working his muscles around you. Your legs trembled with the need to thrust up into him, but you waited- you'd taught yourself to wait a long time ago.

You were still thinking, Stay still, stay still, close your eyes and don't think. Stay still, when JC lifted himself up and pressed back down. You grabbed his hips, and did it for him this time; opened you eyes so you could see his glittered hair a little deflated, and his make up slightly sweaty and smeared, and the sleeves of his dress falling from his shoulders. He was becoming more like the everyday JC each time you thrust into him, and that was hot, too. JC was whimpering softly, but it sounded like he needed more and you'd hit the pace where you couldn't quite lift his weight any faster, and JC was seriously lacking the coordination to do it himself as he pushed his sleeves up over and over.

Well... hadn't he asked you to do this hard?

So you rolled and got him under you. His legs were back around your waist, and it hurt a little because he still hadn't taken off his shoes. It didn't matter because everything was starting to feel good, even JC's heels digging into your back, but especially the tight, hot heat you were thrusting into, as fast and as hard as you could, because JC wasn't telling you to stop.

JC's orgasm hit him like a panic, "Oh god, oh god, oh god," falling him his lips rapid fire until he went taut and silent and shivery. You watched him intently, even slowing down your thrusts to do so, because, Christ, this was JC at his prettiest. When he was breathing shallowly again you struck up the old rhythm, saw JC smile up at you lazily before you closed your eyes and felt your climax spread from your cock to the tips of your fingers, the arches of your feet, and behind your eyelids.

You let out a shuddery breath, and just let your body be still for a moment. JC is already touching you, kissing your open mouth and you pull out, and flop onto your back, and let him press against your chest. You stroke his hair gently as you kiss him back now.

JC stretched tiredly, but still got up and slipped out of the blue dress to hang it up. "I gotta take this to the cleaners now."

You laughed, "Heh, let Bobbie do it, she'll look even classier walking into a place to get cum stains out."

"Be nice to her," he told you, climbing into bed completely naked. You pressed him against you to know the feel of his skin.

"That was really nice," he said, face tucked into your shoulder.

"Nice?"

"Hot," JC tried again. "Um, so what was this?" He looked up at you and smiled, "You, me, and the dress, what was that?"

You tried to put into words what all this meant to you. All you come up with is: "A good thing."