Femboi Hooters Pt. 04

"Where'd you go last night?" Brendan asked.

"To my mom's," replied Steph. "We went to the movies. I just needed to clear my head. Don't worry, I didn't tell her anything about what you told me yesterday." She sat down on the couch next to him. "Sorry for not texting you. Like I said, I had a lot on my mind. I hope you weren't too worried."

Brendan thought about how much his life had changed in the space of three days. His Femboi Hooters uniform arrived on Tuesday, and by Thursday night he'd lost his anal virginity. Last night, he picked up in the Hooters carpark, and just this afternoon, he got railed by two rough Latinos.

Four cocks in three days, and he was still hungry for more.

"Did you do anything last night, babe?" Steph was brave enough to ask, but terrified of the answer she might get.

Brendan glanced down nervously at the magazine sitting in his lap. "You're not gonna like it."

Steph's mood immediately sank. She waited for her boyfriend to tell her what she already knew.

"I got dressed up again."

She hung her head. "OK," she whispered quietly. She ran her fingertips through the ends of her mousy brown hair.

"I'm sorry," said Brendan.

Steph remained silent, and they sat side by side on the couch for seconds that felt like years.

"Do you want to be a woman?" she asked.

Brendan thought hard. He stared at his hands, suddenly wishing they were more feminine. "I don't feel like a woman," he said. "Apart from these, that is," he continued, pointing at his huge rack. "But I like to pretend."

Steph sighed. "This isn't gonna work, is it?"

Brendan didn't reply.

"You know what I'm talking about, right? You and me. It isn't gonna work, is it?" She wiped a tear from her eye. "But I can't afford to move out."

"I know," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"Did you get ... penetrated again while you were dressed up?"

Brendan began to confess. "Yes. Once on Friday night and twice this afternoon. I went to ..."

"Wait, stop," she interrupted. "You don't have to tell me all of the ins and outs." She winced at her words. "Sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

He understood. "I know."

Silence descended once more. "So where does this leave us?" Steph asked.

"I don't know. I like living with you, Steph, but sexually, I'm confused as hell. I don't think I could have a sexual relationship with you. But not just with you, I don't think I could have a sexual relationship with anyone at all right now."

Steph didn't want have sex with him anyway. Not until he got himself tested. She didn't know how careful Brendan had been, and she didn't want her own immune system to suffer collateral damage. "We don't have a spare room, and I don't want to sleep on the couch."

"We can still sleep in the same bed together, Steph. I don't mind. It's just sleep."

Stephanie wasn't sure how she felt about sleeping in the same bed as him, but in the short run, unless she wanted to move back home with her mom, maybe she didn't have a choice. "I guess." Maybe she'd think of other options later, but the drain of a hard week at work combined with her boyfriend's unexpected revelations finally took their toll. She felt wrecked. "I need to take a shower."

Brendan heard the water running. He glanced down at the magazine he'd been reading. A job advertisement caught his eye. 'Do you have what it takes to be a Hooters girl?' it started.

Brendan's breath caught in his throat. He read on.

'Are you ready to turn up the heat on your career? It takes hard work, talent, a bright personality and a killer rack, but it's a hell of a lot of fun, too. We offer great opportunities, but you'll never know what they are unless you apply.'

Brendan's palms began to sweat.

'The Hooters Girl is the world-famous icon of our brand and has drawn guests into Hooters restaurants for decades. She's captivating, approachable, upbeat and friendly. She's attentive to the needs of our guests as she engages with them, flirts with them, and waves her sweet titties in their faces.'

He groped his boobs. His nipples stood to attention.

'The Hooters Girl is a team player who knows how to make special occasions memorable. She knows all about our menu, ensuring that only the highest quality food and drinks are served to her guests. She's charismatic, energetic, professional and punctual, and is an ambassador for the Hooters Girl image. She communicates clearly, has basic arithmetic skills, has a solid understanding of make-up application, and has a pair of ripe, juicy tits for her guests to ogle.'

His clitty was so fucking hard right now.

'We have sizzling vacancies for Hooters Girls in a number of locations across the country, including Mobile, Tucson, Daytona, Miami, Atlantic City and the Kansas City Speedway.'

Oh my fucking god.

The last line hooked him. 'Are you ready for your own pair of tight orange shorts?'

He already had his own pair, but he was so fucking ready for this.

After doing some research, he learned that kitchen staff were paid $16 per hour, while Hooters Girls got paid up to $3 per hour. He understood why -- it's not easy to score tips from the depths of the kitchen. Anyway, he didn't care. He wasn't resigning from his office job, he was only interested in part time work. Besides, it'd be fun to see how much he could earn in tips.

As soon as Steph fell asleep that night, he applied. Like the Hooters ad said, he'd never know if he didn't try. He had some vacation time owing to him from his current job. Maybe he could take some time off from the office to work a few shifts.

Later, he crawled into bed beside her. Steph rolled away from him. They didn't touch.

*

Sunday morning felt strange and unsettled. Usually, Brendan and Steph would grab a quick coffee at home before heading to church. Then, after service, they'd head out for a late brunch together, but this morning, Steph had already left by the time Brendan woke up.

He assumed she'd gone to church on her own. She'd never done that before, but maybe things were different now. He shrugged. He wasn't very religious anyway, and he'd much rather spend his Sunday mornings sleeping in, but America being America, many people needed to pretend to be a whole bunch of things they weren't. Land of the free? Not really.

He checked the time. She wouldn't be back until about eleven at the earliest. He made himself a hot brew, and as the caffeine stimulated his nervous system, he thought about what he could do to pass the time until she came back.

He didn't have long enough to dress up properly, but that didn't stop him from wanting to feel like a cheap femboi slut. He pulled the Femboi Hooters tank top out of the drawer he'd hidden it in last night. He gave it a tentative sniff. It stank a little from yesterday's encounter with those two sexy Latinos, but it'd have to do. For now, he threw it onto the bed.

He booted his laptop and placed it on Steph's side of the mattress. He put a clean towel down on his own side, then fished out a fat dildo and a bottle of lube from his sock drawer. He lubed up the toy, lay down on the bed with his ass in the air, and slowly inserted it into his rectum. After these past few days, it went in so much easier than before. His eyes rolled back into his head. It felt so fucking good to be filled up.

He pulled the Femboi Hooters tank top over his shoulders, feeling it hug his tits.

Brandy lay on her back, and as she ground her pussy firmly into the mattress, the dildo hit just right. A moan escaped her lips as she felt the sweet warm chill that was quickly becoming familiar to her.

She reached for her mouse on the bedside table. She found her favourite gallery of sissy captions and started a slideshow.

As she fucked herself, Brandy's clitty stayed limp. She didn't mind. In fact, a part of her preferred it this way. She pressed his hips down on the dildo and moaned like a slutty bitch.

She stared at the screen, letting the slideshow of lurid images and suggestive captions send her into a light trance.

Briefly, an image appeared of a skinny skank lying on a bed. 'I swallow a lot of semen,' said the caption. 'Not as much as you do, though.'

Brandy's mouth began to salivate.

The next image was of a muscly black man and a white woman, walking side by side on a sunny beach. The woman was blurred out, with the words 'sissy focus: cum to cock' superimposed on top of her. An arrow pointed to the black man's huge dick.

Brandy wanted nothing more than to sink to her knees and suck that massive black cock deep into her throat.

The following image was of a woman with a fat dick in her hand, thick streaks of cum soaking her mouth and face. The woman looked into the camera. 'You're addicted to the taste, aren't you? It's OK. I am, too.'

"Yeah," moaned Brandy. "I love eating cum."

She saw a pic of a thick cock poking suggestively through a hole in a wall. 'Nobody will ever know, sissy. Come on. It'll be our little secret.'

Brandy moaned almost uncontrollably. She touched the tip of her clitty and found a dollop of precum. She brought it to her lips. "I wanna suck a cock so fucking bad," she whispered to herself.

A pic appeared of a huge white cock poking through a fly, with the word 'cocklust' superimposed on the shaft. This was followed by an image of a swarthy Latin shaft and a pair of full, meaty testicles. 'You love it when he grabs your hair and his cock slaps your face, don't you, sissy?'

Brandy moaned like a whore. She desperately wanted to be used and abused by strong, alpha men. She pressed his weight down on the toy again, fucking her hungry pussy. Sure, she'd done this before, but she'd never let herself go so far or so deep. She felt like she was losing her mind. Was this what gooning was? She could tell her clitty was leaking, but because she hadn't touched herself, she couldn't tell how erect she was. Maybe she wasn't erect at all. It didn't matter.

She stared mindlessly at her computer screen.

A pic of a famous trans porn actress appeared. She leered into the camera lens, her tongue licking her lips. 'You crave the taste of cum, don't you, sissy. It's OK. We all do.'

Brandy pressed her cunt down on her dildo. She scooped up more of her precum and fed herself.

The next image showed a woman in a bikini on the left side, and a strong black hunk wearing nothing but a pair of tight Speedos on the right. His bulge was huge. 'Suck him off for me, would you, sweetie?'

Images came hard and fast now.

A woman at the bottom of a blowbang, mouth open, with four slick, massive BBCs surrounding her, resting heavily on her face. The caption read 'died and gone to sissy heaven.'

A pornstar holding a large white penis. The caption was over the top of her face, like she didn't even matter. 'Porn for you these days is just a bunch of sluts showing you hot cocks.'

A picture of a dick exploding in someone's mouth, thick semen escaping her lips. 'Sissy bliss is that first shot of bull cum on your tongue.'

A picture of a blonde with three large white dicks towering over her. 'You feel like such a cheap slut when they rub their cocks in your face.'

An image of a redhead with a black bull stud next to her. She gripped his long cock in the middle of his thick shaft, looking at the camera. 'Beg for it, sissy.'

Brandy gasped. She imagined himself on her knees, mouth wide open, pleading for the redhead to feed the fat BBC to her. She imagined it exploding in her mouth, choking a little as she swallowed his thick, gooey seed. Her pussy twitched.

A photo of a trans pornstar. Her tits were out, and her panties were pulled to one side, exposing her erect girldick. 'Tilt your head back and open wide. I'm gonna feed you.'

A pic of a woman staring in awe at a giant black dick. 'Porn isn't about the women anymore, is it? It's about the cock.'

An image of a trailer park girl lying on her side on a bed, being fucked in the ass by some hairy dude with a big dick. 'Give him the dirty sex he craves. Make sure to taste his cock after it's been up your filthy asshole. 21st century sex is anal.'

"Oh my god," whispered Brandy. Her pussy clenched tightly around the dildo. "I need to get fucked so fucking bad."

A black and white image of a slutty goth chick, one of her fingers in her mouth. 'Push your finger deep into your asshole, then put it in your mouth. Look your bull in the eyes the whole time. Make him know how bad you want it, and how eager you are to give it to him.'

Brandy moaned, bouncing up and down on her toy. Her pussy was on fire. She was fucking the shit out of herself now.

The images came thick and fast now. A picture of a pornstar with huge tits, satisfied face covered in sperm. 'Did you get your daily dose of sissy juice today?'

An image of a woman lying on a mattress, mouth wide open as a guy with a huge brown cock spewed semen all over her face. 'I don't want a relationship, but if you want to jerk off into my mouth, that'd be cool.'

A closeup of a pink lipsticked mouth, tongue pierced, juicy lips opened suggestively. 'Your lips are his fuckhole. You want to make his cock shoot jet after jet of hot seed into your mouth.'

A pic of a pretty blonde in a bikini, frolicking in a sunny field, throwing daisies in the air. 'Make boys cum. You know you're just a fucktoy now. Get slutty. Fuck a different boy every night.'

A photo of a short haired, big titted brunette kneeling on a bathroom floor, face and tits covered in warm, sticky semen. 'The sooner you say yes to him, the sooner you'll get what you crave.'

"I'm so fucking close," Brandy gasped. "I need to get drenched in cum."

The next pic was a pink-tinged image of a gigantic BBC poking through a gloryhole. Hard, erect and long, with a glistening pearl of cum at the tip. 'Open wide, whore,' read the caption. 'You need his semen.' Brandy paused the slideshow on this image. She zoomed in, examining the thick, meaty shaft as it poked through the hole in the wall. The fat, bulbous head was in sharp focus, and she stared at it, mesmerised, wishing she was there, on her slutty knees, waiting to lick the potent white drop of sperm from the tip. She was completely transfixed. She moaned like a sissy bitch in heat. She'd do anything. Anything. Anything.

Brandy's femboi pussy clenched around the dildo as her aching half-erect clitty finally surrendered its load. She squealed, grinding her spasming hole against the plastic. She forced it deeper inside her hungry cunt, imagining it was this beautiful gloryhole cock impaling her, cannoning thick cream deep inside her.

A shallow accumulation of femboi sperm had pooled around the base of her clitty. She scooped it up with her fingers, feeding herself. She swished her load around her tongue before swallowing every single drop.

She resumed the slideshow. A pic of a woman appeared, savouring a load of cum in her mouth, letting it drool out of the corners of her mouth. 'Cum tastes even better when it's not your own.'

"Fuck yeah," whispered Brandy. She licked her fingers clean, imagining it was someone else's.

She winced a little as she pulled the toy out of her pussy. She studied it -- glistening, covered in lube, the slime from her femboi cunt, and possibly some other stuff. She wasn't quite ready to go ass to mouth just yet.

She took the toy to the bathroom and gave it a good clean in the sink before drying it and putting it away. She pulled her towel off the bedsheets, throwing it, along with her Femboi Hooters uniform, into the washing machine.

Brendan waited until the wash cycle was finished. He threw the garments into the dryer for a few minutes. Once they were dry, he folded them up and put them away. He got dressed and went outside for a walk.

He had a lot of stuff to think through.

*

Brendan went shopping later that afternoon. It was a warm day, but he wore a sweater and a scarf in the hope of distracting people from his chest. If he wore a plain t-shirt, he'd likely get stares. He still wasn't sure how he was going to face his co-workers, but that was a problem for tomorrow. He broke out into a nervous sweat as he entered Walmart. He took his cap off to wipe his damp brow on the back of his wrist. He walked like he was walking on eggshells. 'Please, nobody look at me,' he thought to himself.

The store greeter smiled at him, and as he grimaced in response, she thought he was in pain.

Brendan pretended to look through the homewares section. Picking up a glass, he examined the shape and size as if he was interested in buying a set of them for his kitchen. He wasn't. He moved into the furniture section, where he appraised an outdoor dining set. He didn't have a yard to put it in, his apartment balcony was tiny, and in the first place, he rarely invited people over. These were little more than exercises to distract himself while he worked up the courage to do what he came here for.

He took a deep breath. Gingerly, yet with purpose, he walked towards the women's clothing section.

Brendan looked through the range of bras on offer, wondering what size he was, but knowing he couldn't ask to try anything on. A man walking into a change room with a collection of differently sized bras? What might people think? (Perhaps, he told himself, they might think he was a man with tits who didn't know what size he was.)

Nobody at Walmart has ever come over to someone looking at bras to see if they needed assistance, but today, it happened to Brendan. "Can I help you with anything, sir?" she asked.

Brendan nearly jumped out of his skin with fright. "Huh? Sorry?" He looked down at her name tag.

Jessica cleared her throat before repeating herself. "Can I help you with anything?"

"Uhh, yeah, I guess," Brendan replied. He noticed his voice was half an octave lower than usual. "I'm looking for ... bras."

"I noticed," said Jessica. "Are you shopping for your wife or girlfriend?"

"Yeah, that's right." He couldn't tell her the truth. He couldn't tell anyone the truth.

"Maybe I can help you find something nice for her. Can you tell me what size she takes?"

Brendan blinked in fear. "Huh?"

"What size bra does your partner wear?"

He struggled to think. Beads of sweat pierced his forehead. "I don't ... actually ... know."

Jessica surrendered a wry half-smile. Surely someone who was buying a bra for his girlfriend or wife would sneak a peek at one she already owned before they went shopping, wouldn't they? "Well, let's see. Would you say she has a generously proportioned chest, or is she a little smaller?"

'She's as flat as a football field,' Brendan thought to himself, but he wasn't buying for her. "She's reasonably well proportioned, I guess."

As Jessica combed through the stock on display, Brendan stole a quick glance at her. At first, he thought she was Thai. She was short, maybe about an inch shorter than him. Her thick black hair, coloured with a thin streak of purple, was cut shoulder-length. She had attractive dark brown eyes, high cheekbones, and a strong, slightly masculine jawline. Her nose was pierced, and he thought she had large breasts for someone so slight. Despite the unflattering Walmart uniform, he thought she was pretty.

Jessica turned to face her customer. "Would you say she's about my size?" she asked.

Brendan blushed. Surely she wasn't hitting on him? "I can't tell, because ... you're wearing ... that blue waistcoat smock thingy."

"Part of the uniform," she shrugged. "For some reason, they want to make us all look like the fucking sky. We don't have a choice. Anyway, I'm a 34DD, if that means anything to you."

It didn't. "Maybe I'll take one in that size," he said. Suddenly, this felt like a mistake. He wanted to get out of here.

"You sure?" She held up a lacy black one.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Which colour?" asked Jessica.

"Doesn't matter. This one's fine." In sheer embarrassment, Brendan nearly snatched the garment out of Jessica's hand and ran to the register.