Clothes Maketh The Man – Part 70.

– Find Part 1 here – Chapter list here –

Is it something they say about a drowning man? He was going down for the third time… Well, at the pool party I was drowning.

For the life of me I can’t quite understand how two people can discuss details of their new cars while, only a few feet away, the trannie hired entertainment is getting banged by a man that had just snorted down more powder than we get in a night on our Canadian ski hills.

If these people were indifferent to the behaviour being inflicted on me, they were no more indifferent than I was to the latest in the line up that was forming behind the man between my legs. I was phoning it in, to mix metaphors.

The men were preoccupied with the fact that one of their number had hastily disappeared, and after people were detailed to go and locate Gino, things went along as the evening had been planned. Annabel was as busy as I was. As I lay on my back looking at the light fitting while getting pounded by someone who needed a shower, I had time to reflect on the fact that now that I was more feminine than ever, sex had changed.

There was no doubt about it, I found myself quite different from the person I had been just a year or so ago. As far as sex went, I was more turned on by the context of it than the physical side of it. Just being mechanically drilled didn’t really hold much for me. I wanted to feel Annabel’s arms around me, to see the hunger in her eyes. Hunger for me. Hunger for a gurl who ached for her. I wanted to experience the gentle smell of her hair. I wanted to bath in the water of her body.

Nowhere in these thoughts were the explicit visual thoughts of my male fantasies. Now the soft sound of silk sliding from Annabel’ shoulder and settling on the bedroom floor was impossibly exciting. A dick pic wasn’t.

After a couple of hours things were breaking up. There were still people running here and there looking for Gino, and our feigned outrage at having had our hire car shanghaied did nothing to ease the tensions. I found myself in Annabel’s room, stripping off to get into a shower.

I stepped into the shower and my body melted against Annabel. I massaged her shoulders with soap, and my hands slid over her muscled arms. I felt the electric thrill of our bodies moving slowly together. My belly, her breasts, my hands and her thighs. It seemed my body had become hyper sensitive while only minutes before I’d felt pretty much nothing. Annabel cooed her pleasure as we moved together under the warm stream of water. As she returned my touch she spoke, but her words were lost in the flow of the water and the pounding of my heart.


Annabel woke me from the slumber we had fallen into on the kingsized bed in her room. Towels lay discarded by the bed, as they’d fallen away after our shower.

She was talking to me insistently. 

“It’s now or never,” she said.

I groaned into a fuzzy wakefulness as I was dragged from the comfort of sleep. Comfort and safety.

“Huh?” I said, confused.

“We have to move now,’ she insisted.

“But,” I looked about the room. “It’s not light yet.”

“I know that,” she said, throwing clothes in my direction. “If we’re getting out of here we’re going to have to go now.”

Slowly my wits came back to me.  I’ve never been a fast riser.

“And how are we supposed to do that with no car?” I asked a little grumpily.

Once again Annabel surprised me and held up a bunch of keys.

“I lifted these from one of the staff here.  If we can get to the garage I think we’ll find something we can take.  But we should do it now before these people get vertical,” she said pulling her jeans on.

For a moment my thoughts waivered between curiosity about Annabel’s familiarisation to all things key like, and grasping that we were going to find ourselves in mortal danger if we didn’t get out of this quickly.  The preservation of my increasingly feminine skin won out. I started dressing swiftly.

A few minutes later we were quietly stepping across the gravel of the driveway and into the garage.

After trying a few Annabel found the key to the side door. We stepped into the darkened garage and closed the door.   We glanced about the place and found ourselves looking at a couple of SUVs and two trail bikes.

Annabel immediately went to the motorcycles.

“You ever riden one of these things,” she asked.

“A few times,” I admitted. My brother had a thing for motorcycles.

Annabel located a key safe, and had the key for it. She drew out the two keys with Suzuki written on them.

“Try these,” she said and tossed them to me.

I tried the key and the ignition glowed on.

“We have wheels,” I said.

She opened the garage door manually and we quietly wheeled the bikes out into the night.

“It’s dark out there,” I said nodding in the direction we’d arrived from.

Annabel and I pushed the bikes a good distance from the house before starting the engines.

“Do you know where we’re going,” I said.

She looked at her phone and shrugged.

“No signal. Let’s just go until we find something,” she said and moved off into the darkness.

I followed the glow of her taillight into the night.


A good plan well executed is a beautiful thing.  This wasn’t. We were riding blindly into god knows what and stealing a couple of bikes from some people you wouldn’t want to steal a paperclip from.

When things go well they seem to do so very slowly. In contrast, when things go wrong, they do so very rapidly.

We were not more than five hundred yards out of the house when I saw lights coming on all over the compound. Through the darkness of that empty dusty land, I saw the glare of them through the cloud of dust behind us.  I waved to Annabel and gestured toward the house. She pulled up and looked back at the compound.

“We’re going to have to get moving,” she said looking worried.

She gunned the bike and raced off.

I followed as best I could.  Riding across the dusty Texas flats at night is an unnerving experience. Not for the first time I found myself thinking, “Is this really what a nice girl does?”

I loved the way I looked in the jeans and boots and blouse.  What a life, I thought. It’s just the constant humiliation, abuse and general repression that grates a little.

But why me? Can’t I just be a woman, for god’s sake?

I snapped out of the introspective thoughts as I saw Annabel’s glowing light disappear.  Where the hell did she go, I asked myself.

I rode slowly forward wondering if she had had a spill.

I didn’t notice the drop until the bike was already half way into the empty air.

The bike dropped like a stone, falling several feet before hitting hardpan. I slammed down onto the bike, my unprotected head slamming into the handlebars. I reeled, not so much feeling pain as watching myself flail. I raised myself on my elbows and looked into the darkness, as I felt consciousness slipping away I caught sight of Annabel’s dim tail light disappearing into the brush.

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