[MF HJ/oral] Shawna: Roma Revenge – Part VI – Wingmen and Wantonness

We took a cab to the pub a half hour early. I asked Kat about being “fashionably late,” but she explained that it was only a good idea to do that if you don’t like the guy very much. And I had to admit, I liked Chris. He was a good person, and might be my ticket back to my own life if his “contacts” panned out.
“Quit messing with your dress,” Kat warned me as we walked down the steps to the entrance.
“I can’t help it, it feels like it’s gonna ride up every step I take.”
“Jesus, you’d think you never wore a tight skirt before! Your ass will hold it down. Look, there’s Diana. Let’s go.”
I had to admit, the way my dress clung to my hips made it seem unlikely that it would hike up too far. It was a backless number in an almost-burgundy red color, with just enough of a gap in the front to show off some cleavage. It was somewhere between “classy” and “slutty”, and I could feel people staring.
Katlyn wasn’t much better, clad in a strapless blue dress. Her skirt was a little longer than mine, because according to her “The main attraction gets to show more leg”. She’d even switched to flats after it had become obvious I would never be able to walk in heels. To be honest, Kat was already the best wingman I’d ever had, and my date wasn’t even there yet.
Diana had claimed a corner booth for us through some sort of Amazonian magic, possibly owing to the fact that her biceps were nicer than the bouncer’s. Cindy joined us soon after, all smiles and excitement, and Katlyn made the necessary introductions.
“Now listen,” she said, staring at us seriously. “Shawna is new to hetero dating. Our goal tonight is to evaluate the Viking and determine whether he deserves to be her first boyfriend. It’s a sacred duty. He’s bringing friends, and if we ladies have to jump on an uggo grenade to get the job done, I expect each of you to step up. I ask nothing of you that I would not do myself.”
Diana smirked, nodding toward the door. “I don’t expect that to be much of a problem,” she said.
Chris had just walked in, flanked by three other men. As much as I hated to give in to my new body’s ideals, I had to admit: they were gorgeous. Clean-shaved, chiseled chins, nice hair, and varying degrees of buff. Shawn Milner would have fit in nicely with this crowd. Maybe after this was all over I’d have to look these guys up.
Chris scanned the room, squinting while his eyes adjusted to the darkened room. His gaze finally fell on me, and a smile spread across his whole face.
I waved hello and he led his friends over. “Shawna,” he said, still smiling. “Ladies. This is Adam, Jake, and Ben.”
Katlyn took over and made the necessary introductions, scooting Diana and Cindy to the edge of the booth. It was a half-circle, and her move had placed me in the center, with Chris on my left. Adding his friends to the bench left us just enough room to maybe slide a menu between our thighs if we’d wanted to.
I found I didn’t particularly want to. One waitress and drink order later, and we were chatting amiably, although mostly about Chris and his life, thanks to Katlyn’s rather pointed questions.
We learned a lot in a very short time. Chris was about the same age I was, and he worked in communications at a large downtown business. He had a degree, no pets, and liked to unwind by running long distances or playing team-based video games. He had no allergies, and felt that the question of whether he wanted a family was one he should discuss with his partner before answering.
“Kat,” I said, cutting her off before she could get too personal, “maybe someone else should say something, too. Like you, for instance. What do you do, anyway?”
Kat grinned. “Journalism, if you can believe it.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah. That’s pretty believable.”

I had to give Kat some credit. For all her over-enthusiastic aggressiveness, she actually was really good at getting people talking. Once the introductory profiling was out of the way, she kept us all going, introducing all sorts of topics to discuss and defusing awkward silences.
Cindy and Diana hit it off pretty quickly, too, quickly forming an alliance of intimidating girl power and challenging Ben and Adam to darts and pool. I declined to join, since I was still not sure of my new body’s strengths and not particularly eager to show off my incompetence, and soon Katlyn and I were sitting between Jake and Chris, chatting and laughing and eating some of the best chicken wings I’d ever tasted.
“Wow,” Jake said, “I’ve never seen a lady who could keep up with Chris when chicken is involved.”
I winked, sucking the sauce off my fingers. “You gotta eat big to get big,” I said, quoting a fitness guru.
Chris laughed. “Errbody wanna look like a bodybuilder, don’t nobody wanna lift no heavy-ass weights,” he replied, quoting the same guy.
“Meatheads,” Katlyn said with a sigh. “No wonder you’re so lousy at girl stuff, Shawna. Sometimes I think you’re practically a dude!”
I covered my blush by tipping back my third drink of the night. Chris chuckled, but seemed more amused by my sudden shyness than Kat’s brazen statement. “I need a refill,” he said, sliding toward the edge of the booth. “How are you doing there, Shawna?”
I thought about that for a moment. I was definitely feeling a little drunk, but not so much that I’d said anything really regrettable. There was no doubt I’d have less tolerance for liquor than Shawn had, but I was nowhere near the danger zone. “Sure,” I said, sliding him my empty cup.
I had a sudden flash of memory, clear as if I was seeing it: the office party. Maria, laughing and propping herself up against a table. I saw her drink, and my hand sprinkling the crushed tablets into it. I saw the brief, unsatisfying encounter in the passenger seat.
I watched myself, using that poor girl, watching from outside my body. I stood outside the car, in the rain… had it been raining? It was now. I watched the man I’d been doing his remorseless deed, and I felt sick. Sick, and sad. I moved in closer, and again I was in my old body, pulling myself off the unconscious girl. Except it wasn’t Maria under me when I finished. It was Shawna.
It was me.
“…ight there? Shawna? Hey!”
I blinked and shook my head, flashing Katlyn an apologetic look. “I’ll be right back,” I said, pushing up from my seat.
I did a fast-walk to the washroom, remembering just in time to use the Ladies’ door, and dashed to a toilet. Before I knew what I was doing, I was down on my knees. The bitter taste and sharp smell of stomach acid overwhelmed all my other senses as I purged my insides.
“Easy, girl, let it out.” A soothing voice floated behind me, and soft hands brushed my hair back from the splash zone. Katlyn rubbed my back as I gagged out a second wave. “Good air in, bad food out,” she said.
I coughed and spat a chunk of something that looked suspiciously like my breakfast into the bowl. “Th-thanks,” I said, panting for breath.
“Anytime,” she said, wiping my face carefully with some tissue. “What happened back there? Are you alright? You kinda zoned out. like you were somewhere else.”
I shuddered. “I was. I was remembering something that I… that someone did.”
“Someone we know?” Kat sounded concerned, and more than a little ready to hurt someone for me. I felt something warm inside, knowing that she’d so quickly started to care about me. Had anyone ever been willing to go on the warpath for me before? I didn’t think so.
I shook my head slowly. “It was another life,” I said. “It happened to someone else. I’m fine.”

We spent a couple minutes on “emergency face touch-up” over the bathroom sinks. Katlyn, deciding my crisis had passed, took the opportunity to grill me about the evening.
“So?” she asked, applying some sort of powder to her cheeks that looked like it wasn’t doing anything. “Are you going for it?”
“Going for what?” Not knowing what to do with the makeup, I had decided to thoroughly wash my hands. The warm water on my skin was calming me considerably.
“You know what I mean,” she said, eyeballing me in the mirror. “Are you gonna put out a little?”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “You’re disgusting! It’s the first date! And I’ve never… you know.”
“Yeah I know, you’ve never driven a stick shift. What about a BJ?”
I coughed. “Dude. I just puked my guts out, and now you wanna talk about putting a dick in my mouth?”
“Don’t be a crybaby,” she said, pulling a little bottle of mouthwash out of her purse and tossing it to me. “You could always settle for a handie.”
I scoffed, cracking open the little bottle and sniffing at the minty fluid inside. “How about a kiss, maybe?” I asked. “What’s wrong with stopping at a kiss?”
She smirked, facing me. “Look, Chris is sweet. He’s kind and smart, and obviously likes you. And he’s built like a mountain. You oughta lock that down. And besides… guys these days, they kind of expect more than a kiss.”
I blushed. Not so long ago, I’d been one of those guys. “Put out or get out” had been my policy, most of the time. More and more I was starting to realize what an asshole I’d always been. At the same time, the idea that a woman would “lock down” a man, using her body to manipulate him so shamelessly really bothered me. I sighed. “Dating is fucked,” I said, knocking back the mouthwash.
Katlyn chuckled. “Don’t I know it.”

Katlyn kept me in the washroom until I was “properly composed,” meaning until she’d restored my hair and makeup to her liking and satisfied her urge to gossip about how my date was going. I had to admit, it was going pretty well. It was easy to forget that Chris was mostly a means to an end, that end being to become a man again, but I figured it was harmless to have fun with the rest of the night. If nothing else, it would keep him convinced to help me. I just hoped my weird pheromone effect didn’t get him too excited.
Chris was waiting nearby when we finally returned to the pub, looking concerned. “Are you alright?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, just had a bit of…” I paused. What had that been, anyway? A panic attack caused by my own memories of being an asshole? “…I dunno, I guess maybe one of those wings disagreed with me.” I smiled. “I’ll pick up this round, and then you can get back to telling me about your lifting. Besides, I don’t think we should leave Jake alone; Kat’s circling in for the kill.”
Jake looked back at the table and chuckled. “She sure knows what she wants. Alright, but you gotta let me get the next round.”
“Deal.” I walked up to the bar and ordered a couple of drinks for us while Chris went back to the table to wait for me.
I leaned on the bar while I waited. It had gotten busy, and the bartender had a few orders ahead of me. After a minute, I noticed that I was being watched by a couple of guys on either side of me. They had been sitting at the bar, each nursing a beer.
“Hey darlin’,” said the guy on my left, “ain’t seen you here before.”
I shrugged. “First time for everything, I suppose.”
“Oh aye, absolutely. Why don’t you sit down and stay awhile? Brad an’ me, we’d love to have a chat with such a pretty little lady.”
I scoffed. “I bet you say that to all the girls who’ve been drinking for a while.”
“Brad” shifted toward me. “Hey now,” he said, “there’s no call t’be a bitch about it. We’re just bein’ friendly, s’all.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Really? You’re like a character from a bad movie. I’m going back to my table,” I announced. “I can get my drinks from the waitress instead.”
I turned to walk away, but the guy who’d been on my left stood and grabbed my arm. His hand felt clammy, and he was close enough for me to smell the beer on his breath. “He don’t mean nothin’ by it, darlin’,” he said, leering at me. “Sit down, have a drink with us, and then you can go back to your friends.”
I glared at him. “You’ll lose that hand if you don’t get it off me right now,” I said in a low tone.
“I suggest you do as she says,” Chris said. At some point he’d come back, apparently to rescue me from this pair of drunken assholes.
“Hey man, chill,” the drunk replied. “We’re just having a private conversation here.”
“Conversation’s over.” Chris uncrossed his arms, staring the man down.
“Fine, fine,” he said, raising both palms to us. “G’wan back to your faggot boyfriend. You can go pee sitting down together.”
I started to say something, but Chris put his hand on my shoulder. “Come on,” he said, putting his arm around my shoulders to steer me away. “They’re not worth it.”
I swallowed my anger and let him move me. We were almost away when I felt a hand slap my ass and ripped myself out of Chris’s grasp.
“Hey!” I yelled, not really sure what I intended to do.
The drunk grinned at me. I balled my fists, ready to respond, but Chris mover faster.
He stepped past me, putting his weight into a punch that caught the asshole across his cheekbone and sent him spinning to the floor. Chris loomed over him, shaking his fingers. “Don’t make me do that again,” he warned.
“Brad” got up off the barstool he’d been sitting on. I would have left it alone, settled for warning Chris and let the bouncer handle it. Could have, maybe should have. But the asshole had the neck of a bottle in his hand. So I did what any smart girl would do.
I stepped around Chris and toward Brad. He reached toward me with his left hand, meaning to shove me out of the way. After all, I was just a girl, right? That was what he probably thought, right up to the moment my tiny, feminine fist connected with his left kidney.
I hit him again on the other side, making him double over, then followed up with a right uppercut to the jaw. There was a loud crack, followed by a fleshy thud as he hit the floor.
I turned around to see how Chris was doing, but both he and his opponent were staring in shock at me.
Chris broke the silence. “Holy shit,” he said. “Is he alright?”
I winked, taking Chris’s hand and leading him away. “He’ll live,” I replied. “Probably.”

The waitress came around with a couple free drinks and an apology a few minutes later. Apparently, the two drunks were a routine problem, and management had been looking for a good excuse to ban them.
Katlyn, who had missed most of the exchange but witnessed my knockout, was shocked. “You can’t do your eye shadow, but you can drop a man with a single punch?” she asked.
“Technically, it was three punches” I explained, sipping my drink.
“Where the hell did you learn to do that?”
“Oh, you know,” I said without thinking, “schoolboy roughhousing.”
Chris raised an eyebrow in my direction. “You roughhoused with schoolboys?”
“Well, uh… yeah,” I said, thinking quickly. “It was, you know, sort of a rough neighborhood.”

The night flew by after that. Having established a cover story close to the truth about my past, I was free to chat about anything from childhood to politics to sports trivia. Chris seemed fascinated with what I had to say, and I felt the same way. I was definitely going to have to look him up once I got my body back. He would be a pretty solid bro to have in my corner. I
t said a lot for him, too, that he hadn’t really made a pass at me, despite being close to me for so long. Every other man who’d spent more than a few minutes in contact with me so far had given in to his instincts. In fact, thinking about it, every man I’d even talked to aside from Chris had either groped or manhandled me in some way. I was starting to think maybe the feminists weren’t entirely off-base.
Of course, that might also be because he had seen me knock a grown man unconscious. But hell, that would be a turn-on for most guys. I knew I was a little turned on thinking about it.
The waitress came around for last call, surprising me out of my musings. “Holy crap,” I said, “it’s that late already?”
Chris smiled at me. I wished he’d stop doing that, because it made my spine tingle. “What’s the matter, are you afraid your car will turn into a pumpkin?”
I scoffed. “No, but it’s Sunday night,” I said. “Don’t you have to be up in the morning?”
He shook his head. “That’s what site foremen are for. I’ve got all the time in the world. I hope you don’t have to go into the office?”
I thought about that for a moment. I’d already sent word that I’d be taking some time off, working from home where I needed to and burning vacation days for the rest. I had intended to spend every possible hour gypsy-hunting, of course, but with the help of Chris’s “contacts”, the worst legwork would already be done for me. In fact, Adam and Ben were the contacts in question, and had left early with my information. They’d left with Cindy and Diana, too, supposedly to make sure they “got home safe”. Whose home they were heading to was anyone’s guess, but Diana had thrown me a thumbs-up on her way past that told volumes.
Chris reached over and put his hand over mine on the table. “I guess we should be off, anyway. Can I give you a lift home in my tiny yellow limousine?”
My phone buzzed. Katlyn, texting from the other side of the table with lightning speed, had sent me a message: “Need rescuing?”
I shook my head and texted back “I’m fine, have fun.” It was pretty obvious that she wasn’t just sitting with Jake to keep Chris close to me. I felt a little jealous; there was nothing better than a girl like Kat following you out of a bar.
I looked up at Chris, who was waiting patiently for an answer. “Sure,” I said, dropping my phone in the handbag Kat had made me bring. “Just let me settle up at the bar.”
“No need,” Chris said with another of those smiles. “I paid up and bought a tab an hour ago.”

I left with Chris, and he hailed a cab from the street. We gave the driver my address and strapped ourselves into the back seat, and we were off… sort of.
“Is the traffic always this shit around here?” I asked.
Chris smirked. “You’re so ladylike,” he joked. “And no, usually it’s not that bad. There must be an accident or something.”
“Maybe the world is conspiring to keep us together.”
“Katlyn certainly was,” Chris said. “Is she always that… driven?”
I blushed. “You picked up on that, huh?”
“I think the whole bar picked up on that. She practically assigned everyone a partner for the evening. What are best friends for, right?”
That startled me. “Yeah,” I said, “I guess you’re right.”
“So what’s the story with you two, anyway? Been friends long?”
“That depends,” I admitted. “What time is it?”
We both got a good laugh at that. I wasn’t sure why. It certainly wasn’t a very funny joke. Maybe it was the tension, I thought, making us nervous. Or the drinks, making us stupid. But hell, what are drinks for? I leaned into him and touched his arm, laughter trailing off to a chuckle, then turned my head to look at him.
I caught him doing the same, and our eyes locked. His eyes were so pretty, I thought. They were that perfect shade of blue that complements blond hair, and they had kindness in them, and longing. His hand, warm and firm, was on my cheek, and he was leaning in closer.
I knew I should pull away. Somehow I felt that I was crossing a line. But I didn’t care, just then. I didn’t care that I was really a man when his lips, soft and eager, pressed down on mine. I didn’t care that I’d only ever been attracted to women before when I felt his other hand pressing down on mine, enveloping it in his strong grip and gently squeezing my fingers. And I didn’t care that I was only on this date so he would help me get back to my old life when my lips parted and my eyes slid closed.
The kiss was gentle but insistent, full of need, and I felt a rush of excitement flowing through me. He started to pull away, but I kissed him again, drawing him back toward me. His hand, releasing mine, slid up my thigh to my hip. It was a simple movement, but it felt like more, like he was claiming me for his own.
My own hand moved to his leg and I scooted closer, catching short breaths between our increasingly eager kissing. I felt part of his thigh twitch under my fingers. My hand stroked down along his pant leg and back up again, and I realized that it wasn’t his thigh that I was feeling. It was his cock, tucked down his pant leg.
Chris put his hand on my shoulder, breaking the kiss and looking uncertain. “Shawna…”
“Shush,” I said quietly. I didn’t want to think about what was happening. “Just let me enjoy this.”
He glanced ahead. Our cabbie, irritated with the slow traffic, was alternating between texting on his phone and speaking rapidly in some foreign language to someone over an earpiece. Accepting that we were being ignored, Chris turned back to me again.
Once more, his lips found mine. My heart skipped, trying to keep up with the thrill of being so wanted by him and the terrifying freedom of giving in.
I darted my tongue out to touch his, once more stroking that hard length in his pants. It jumped in response, straining at the fabric that so cruelly bound it. Chris’s right hand became more adventurous as well, sliding down to slowly feel the curve of my ass, while his left stroked back through my hair.
I’d never been a passive animal sexually before, and this was no exception. I pushed Chris back a little, leaning down to kiss and suck on the skin of his neck. His pleasured groan told me that I’d found a sensitive spot, so I stayed there a while, teasing his skin with my lips, teeth, and tongue, raising gooseflesh all the way down his arm.
At the same time, my hands were working at his pants. It was a bit unusual unzipping them from that angle, but in seconds I had him free. I took a moment to admire his cock; I had seen it once before, in the gym, but that had been a glance, and he had been surprised. This was entirely different.
It was big, thick, long… it had to be at least nine inches, I guessed. There was a drop of moisture at the tip, and Chris shuddered when my thumb rolled across it, smearing it around against his skin.
“How long has it been like this?” I said quietly.
Chris glanced at the cabbie, who was now almost yelling at his phone, then back to me. “Off and on all night, but from the moment you punched that guy out, it’s been-” he gasped again as I again rolled my thumb over him, fingers lightly squeezing his shaft. “-it’s been almost painful.”
I giggled. “I wonder if I should kiss you better,” I teased, shifting up and kissing him again. I slid my fingers up and then down again, slightly wetting them and stroking down his shaft all the way to the curly blond hair at the base. He groaned into my mouth, clearly aching from his efforts to stay quiet, as well as his discipline in not taking what he wanted.
And I knew what he wanted, there was no doubt of that. He wanted me, all of me, wrapped around him. I wanted it too; in fact, I had ever since we’d first met. My body wanted to wrap itself around him, and to be held in his arms.
He must have sensed my desires, because his arms snaked up around my back and pulled me in close. My leg draped over his lap, rubbing against his shaft while I stroked him, and his tongue danced hungrily with my own. I could feel his heartbeat, fast and strong, under my fingers, and with my other hand I touched his cheek, once more closing my eyes to enjoy the heat, the strength, even the smell of him all around me.
One of his hands came back around, cupping my breast and making my heart lose rhythm again. His thumb slid across my nipple and I gasped into his lips, making him smile and do it again. I stroked him faster, bringing my hand all the way up each time to smear more of that sticky fluid down the length of him.
It was strange, stroking another man’s cock. Familiar, of course; I’d been practising since I was a teenager. But the angles were all different, and my hands were smaller. Still, I seemed to be getting the job done. Chris was taking faster breaths, and I could feel his hand squeezing my chest on reflex as his body began to make its own demands on him.
I leaned in close to his ear. “Are you close?” I asked, my voice a hot breath on his skin barely above a whisper.
“Yesss,” came his hissed reply. “I’m gonna-”
I moved quickly. There was little thought to it. Perhaps I wanted him to feel good; perhaps I just didn’t want to leave a stain on his pants. Either way, in moments I scooted my hips away, leaned down, and slid my lips down around the head of his dick.
His fingers curled to a shaking fist in my hair as he struggled to keep control. I rolled my tongue around the fleshy knob in my mouth, pressing firmly against his skin in a way I had always enjoyed from other girls, stroking my fingers madly up and down.
His hips bucked once, which was the only warning I got; a moment later, I felt his hot cum splashing into my mouth. I tasted it a second later, overwhelming my senses with a coppery tang the same way my thoughts had overloaded with the thrill of his climax. He was exploding, spurting onto my tongue and inside my cheeks, with his breath caught in his throat, and it was all because of me! It was because he wanted me, and because I wanted him; it was because of the rollercoaster of desire we’d strapped ourselves into.
I leaned to the side and looked up at him, sucking lightly and letting my hand finally rest around his rod while he drew in air and began to calm down. He looked down at me in a mixture of shock and happiness; his fingers uncurled, stroking my hair back affectionately while I slowly drew my lips back and off of him.
I froze for a moment, then. I really hadn’t thought this through. Not only was I bend down in the back of a taxi cab in an entirely undignified way, but I had a mouthful of another man’s cum and no clue what to do with it!
Chris must have sensed my dilemma. “Here,” he said, snatching a plastic bag off the car floor and opening it for me. I gave him a grateful smile, sitting up and turning away to spit.
I tied off the bag and turned around again. Chris had tucked himself back into his pants and had a blissful look on his face. “That was-”
The cab started moving again. “Traffic’s clearing up,” our driver announced. I felt heat rising in my cheeks. “Have you home in no time.”
“Thanks,” Chris said. I folded my hands in my lap and looked down at them. Had that really just happened? What was I thinking? Did this make me a slut? I felt like I needed to say something, anything, to break the tension, but when I opened my mouth, all I could focus on was the lingering metallic taste of Chris’s cum in my mouth.
Then there was a heavy warmth on my hands. It was Chris’s pals; he’d taken my hand and was squeezing it again. I looked over at him. His afterglow had faded, but his affection had not. He smiled at me, silently telling me that it was okay, that I wasn’t horrible, even that I was wonderful.
I leaned over and laid my head on his shoulder, he slipped his arm around me, and I didn’t move again until we arrived at my apartment.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/3nuz4z/mf_hjoral_shawna_roma_revenge_part_vi_wingmen_and