Daniel Gettinby [M19/M32] [crossdressing] [swearing] [non-con] [blowjob]

Author’s Note: Hiya! This story features a tad bit of non-con content; if that’s not up your avenue, please don’t continue past this disclaimer. Thanks, and happy reading! (:

I groaned, cursing Toby’s stupid alarm clock. ‘Turn that thing off,’ I hissed. He didn’t answer, not even the drunken babbling of a half-asleep bum. ‘Dude….’ It took tremendous effort, the stuff of legends, really, to pry open my eyes with the force of will alone. The will to strangle this bastard with his alarm’s power cord. Nonetheless, I managed to restrain that most logical urge and settled the problem with means more condoned by society: sheer physical violence instead of downright murder. Against the clock, to be exact. Not Toby. Not Today.

My fist came down on it, pushing that big, white button and shaking the entire nightstand. ‘This will cost you extra next time, buddy.’ My dry throat produced every word in that croaky, undefined manner you’d expect after a night of heavy drinking and, looking at my passed-out Friend, maybe a tinge more.

Erin’s New Living Arrangements, Pt. 02 [M18/M21] [masturbation] [peeping] [build-up]

Author’s Note: Hiya! I just wanted to say that I’ll try to make the story sound a little less…sitcom-y. In the future…I’ll try to do better! You know, less…jumpy. More streamlined. If you’d like to offer some tips or pointers, feel free to do so in the comments; I appreciate it! Constructive criticism as well, of course. Thank you! (:

I

Aron sat on his bed, watching his feet dangling past the edge, hovering above the wooden floor. ‘I have to admit, getting to dress up all day every day without having to work—apart from chores—sounds like a dream come true.’ His elegant finger traced the ridges of his skirt, and he thought: *getting to be Erin all day.* ‘Getting to be the Lady of the House. No, still the Man of the House…second in command. With a little crossdressing is all.’

His other option trudged up and down in the back of his mind: Calling up Roy and asking if there was work to be had at his bar. Aron had been there several times, mostly when his father wanted to stop by and talk with his old friend. It wasn’t the worst of all places, though rather shabby looking. *But*, at least a few shifts, enough to get by for the time being, were all but guaranteed.