Femboi Hooters Pt. 06

Brendan woke early on Tuesday morning. He felt happy and content as he drifted off to slumber last night, but upon waking, his first thought was of Stephanie. The situation was complicated. He knew they weren't suited to each other, but some of the words she'd said to him yesterday had gotten under his skin. His stomach sank.

Did he lie to her? Their relationship, such as it was, had ended, and there was no doubt about it. So too, possibly, had their friendship. This hurt, because despite everything, and despite their awkward sex life, Steph was a chill housemate, and they got on well. But the question mattered to him because he'd always prided himself on his honesty.

He stared at the ceiling. This wouldn't be his bedroom for too much longer.

Did he? Did he hide something from her? Steph had made a point worth thinking about. If he didn't know he wasn't completely straight, why did he buy the Femboi Hooters outfit? And if Brendan was as honest as he thought he was, why didn't he tell her about it?

Things had moved so fast. As he woke up this Tuesday morning, he remembered the outfit had only arrived a short week ago.

Last Friday, after Steph came home from work, he confessed to her that he'd recently been watching some trans and gay porn. This came as a surprise to her. He told her about the Femboi Hooters uniform he'd bought, and how he dolled himself up and wore it to a truckstop the night before.

Would he have ever told her anything at all about this, if not for the tits he couldn't hide? He genuinely did not know.

It had been warm lately, but this morning felt a little chilly. Looking out the window, he saw thick grey clouds hanging low in the sky.

There was too much pressure and not enough time. He was still coming to terms with everything himself. Maybe, if he had more time to process, he could've framed things in a better light for Steph.

Brendan sighed. He was grateful that his supervisor had given him today off work, and also tomorrow, to help him cope with the short-term fallout of his dead relationship. He appreciated working for a company that genuinely valued its staff.

He threw back the covers and got up. His ankles and calves felt the unseasonal morning chill. He padded to the kitchen, brewed a coffee and made himself some toast. He stood there, rooted to the spot, munching and slurping, lost in thought.

Those pangs of guilt kept stabbing into him. He felt like he'd thrown Steph's life off-course, and in many ways, he wished they'd never met. Especially now that it seemed like nothing, not even a friendship, would be saved.

Fuck it. Seriously, fuck this shit to hell. It was over, he told himself. If he kept fixating on this, he was going to drive himself insane. It wasn't worth it.

Time to move on. He took a few deep breaths, pushing it all out of his mind.

It would've been better if they'd never crossed paths, but what's done is done.

He went back to bed and tried to fall asleep again, wanting nothing more than to feel time slip by. He cursed the caffeine swimming in his blood, keeping him awake.

With a sigh, he propped himself up on some pillows, grabbed his laptop, and started watching something on Netflix. He was barely paying attention.

Around half past ten, his phone pinged. "Hey," said Jessica. She was on her coffee break.

Brendan's face erupted into a wide smile. "Hey," he replied. He ran his fingertips through his blonde hair.

Jessica: how's your day?

Brendan: quiet

Jessica: mine is too i guess

Brendan: im not at work today

Jessica:?

Brendan: or tomorrow. too much to go into rn

Jessica: everything ok?

Brendan: kinda yeah i guess

Jessica: you wanna talk?

Brendan: what time do you go on lunch

Jessica: 1pm

Brendan: want some company?

Jessica: yeah ok :)

Brendan: with me?

Jessica: no, doofus, with someone else I'm not texting right now. come buy another bra :)

He smiled. He went out for a brisk walk, filling his lungs.

*

Brendan drove to Walmart and parked his car. He checked the time on his phone. Ten to one. He took a deep breath. Maybe it was too soon to think about someone new. Maybe he needed to be alone for a while. A hermit lifestyle, while complicated, offered tangible positives.

The store greeter greeted him.

He strode towards the women's clothing section, and she saw him before he saw her. "Hey," she grinned.

"Hey," replied Brendan. He wasn't sure whether to hug her, kiss her cheek or shake her hand, and in complete societal paralysis, he raised his palm in greeting. She did the same. It felt like they were high fiving without touching. Awkward as fuck.

"Day off work, huh?" Jessica remarked. "Sweet."

Brendan shuffled his feet. "It's because... maybe I can tell you over lunch?"

"Sure," she replied. "I'll be done in five."

"Cool," Brendan grinned. "In the meantime, I'll just casually browse through your selection of brassières."

"Yeah, you do that," Jessica smiled. "I'll just be over here doing some pointless shit with some other clothes, but let me know if you need any assistance."

"At least I know what size I am now," he joked.

As she turned to while away her last five minutes before her lunch break, she winked at him. Her dark Asian eyes were beautiful. He looked back over his shoulder. Even under her unflattering Walmart smock, he could make out the curvature of her ass. And he already knew she had a big dick.

Brendan rummaged through Walmart's bras for a few minutes, willing time to speed up. He felt her approach him.

"I just need to quickly go out back to clock off for my break," she said. "Meet you on the benches just outside the front entrance?"

"OK," he nodded. He walked back past the store greeter, leaving the store. She looked at him doubtfully, as if he was lifting something, though she had no evidence to ping him with. The electronic beepers remained silent as he passed, giving the suspicious greeter nothing to work with.

"I'm free for an hour," beamed Jessica, sitting down on the bench next to him, "but I'm hungry. Have you eaten?"

"No," Brendan replied. "Any recommendations?"

"There's a Subway on the other side of the carpark. I usually go there for lunch, just because it's close, but to tell you the truth, I'm so fucking tired of eating the same thing every day. Like, I don't even need to order anymore. They already know exactly what I want."

"I drove," revealed Brendan. "You wanna go someplace else instead?"

Jessica glanced at her phone. "I've only got an hour, and I'm still dressed in this hideous blue uniform."

"I like your hideous blue uniform," Brendan smiled.

"Weirdo," laughed Jessica, throwing her dyed black hair back. "You're either a weirdo, or a liar."

Brendan twitched on the inside. He fixated on the bright streak of purple in her dark black hair. If given a choice, he'd definitely go for weirdo. He wasn't a liar. "I can drive us somewhere, if you like."

Jessica didn't want to make a scene. "Nah, Subway is fine." They walked across the carpark, not speaking much.

*

Brendan ordered a six-inch salad sub on Italian, toasted, with cheddar. He asked for lettuce, tomato, cucumber, peppers and pickles. No sauce, but shitloads of salt and pepper. Jessica followed him. She ordered a chicken teriyaki footlong on rye, and a bottle of water. The cashier rung up their orders, each paying separately.

They sat down and began to eat. "Makes sense," said Brendan.

"Huh?" Jessica inhaled her first bite.

"Your sandwich is bigger than mine," he grinned. He unwrapped his lunch and took a bite. Flecks of crusty bread flew everywhere.

Jessica coughed.

"Like, because your dick is bigger than mine, and... so..." Immediately, Brendan wished he hadn't gone there.

"Yeah, I know, I know what you meant, but... fuck... wow. I mean, it's lunch."

"Sorry," said Brendan. Too forward. He took a bite of his sandwich. "Hey, are you doing anything after work tonight?"

"Other than comparing dick sizes? Well, my tentative plans included writing a review of my ten thousandth chicken teriyaki sub, summoning the devil..."

"Would you like to hang out?" asked Brendan, interrupting. "I mean, like, with me? Together?"

Jessica remembered last night's text exchange. For now, she sidestepped his question. "How's everything going with your ex?"

"We're done," he exhaled. "She doesn't want to be friends with me, and maybe that's for the best. We're gonna need to navigate around each other for a while, because she's gonna need to move her stuff out, and then I'm gonna need to find a new place to stay, and then we need to give the keys back to the realtor and get the apartment cleaned for the next victim." He took a bite of his sandwich.

A couple of years ago, Jessica went through a bad breakup of her own. She recalled how much it hurt. "I'm really sorry to hear that."

Brendan knew Jessica's words came from the right place. "Don't be, but thanks anyway." He chewed thoughtfully. "To tell the truth, it's a relief that it's over. It wasn't working at all."

They munched in silence for a few moments.

"How are you feeling about everything?" Jessica asked. "I don't mean to pry, but if you'd like to talk about it..."

"I appreciate that," he smiled.

Jessica took another bite of her sub. "Tell me about her?"

"Not much to tell," Brendan replied.

"But you must've been attracted to her, right?"

Brendan grimaced. "I lost my virginity to her."

Jessica nodded. "I think you mentioned that before."

"And that only ever happens once, right, and so when it happened to me, I kind of lost my sense of proportion. I lost my virginity late, well at least compared to most other people, and I felt like there must've been a reason for me to find her at that point in my life, so next thing, we moved in together. Looking back, that wasn't smart. We didn't know each other very well, but surprisingly, we ended up being good housemates." He took a bite of his sub. "If that was enough, just being housemates, I would've been happy. At least for a while. Until I met someone special, that is. But the apartment was small, and our spare room didn't have a spare bed, so we slept together. To the rest of the world, it probably looked like a relationship, even though there was always something missing. Something didn't feel right, but I guess it took me a while to figure out what it was."

"What did she look like?"

Brendan raised his eyebrows. "The total opposite of you." He didn't elaborate any further, but Jessica imagined a quietish, hyper-patriotic midwestern Christian girl with dull hair, a flat chest, and an insular outlook on life. She had no idea how close to the mark she was.

"I remember you telling me something about dressing up like a Hooters waitress," Jessica probed. "Did your girlfriend know about that?"

Brendan looked around the dining area. His reply came in a soft voice. "Yeah. But if I'm being honest, maybe I only told her because there was no way I was gonna hide these from her." He pointed to his breasts. "Everything happened so fast."

"Fucking hell, dude. And she was chill with it?"

"At first, when I told her, I don't think she understood. When I explained to her that I'd been watching some trans and gay porn, I think she was surprised about that. She said she assumed I watched porn, because most men do, but my preferences came as a surprise to her. And then I had to explain the whole Femboi Hooters thing to her." He took a bite of his lunch, chewing hard. "It felt like she at least tried hard to understand, even though this was all completely unexpected to her. I guess I need to give her points for that. Or maybe she was just overwhelmed by everything and couldn't deal." He shrugged. "I don't really know."

Jessica nodded. She took a bite of her chicken teriyaki, waiting for Brendan to continue.

"And then I told her I went out dressed up as a Hooters waitress. I told her that last Thursday night, I went to that truckstop, you know the one just on the northern edge of town, and I got ploughed by a fat redneck in his truck. And I also told her about a work trip to Washington a couple of months earlier where I went to a gloryhole one night, because I was curious about what it was like."

Under the table, Jessica's cock was hard. It felt like Brendan was skating over the surface of some incredibly hot stories right now, and she wanted to know more. "How long have you been doing this?"

"Well, the gloryhole experience was a few months ago, but I only got the Femboi Hooters outfit last week." He paused. "It arrived last Tuesday, exactly seven days ago today, and in the space of a single week, everything about my life has changed. It feels like I've walked through a portal into a completely different existence." He took a bite before continuing. "It's like the uniform has special powers. Whenever I wear it, I turn into the world's biggest whore. I wore it for the first time last Thursday night, when I got fucked by the trucker I just mentioned. When I came home, I showered and climbed into bed, and the last thing I thought about before falling asleep was wishing I had a pair of huge, juicy tits, and they were there on Friday morning when I woke up. Later that night, I got dressed up and hung out in the Hooters carpark, and even though I felt nervous, it only took me about five minutes to find some dick. Last Saturday afternoon, I dressed up and went to a NASCAR event at the speedway and picked up two sexy Latin dudes with big dicks. I think I told you about all of that stuff before, but just last night, I got dressed up and went to that Middle Eastern café near the river on Main Street. I showed a couple of hairy Arabs a good time in the loading dock." He paused for a second. "They loaded my dock up real good," he grinned.

Jessica gasped. "Dude, you're such a fucking slut! You know that, right?"

Brendan blushed. "It's the uniform. I swear it's that. It has special powers. Like, why else would I suddenly have these tits?"

"My plans for this evening have suddenly changed," Jessica declared. "Wanna hang out?" Her dark brown Asian eyes twinkled.

Brendan smiled. "Yeah," he whispered.

A silence momentarily settled. "Hey, can I be honest about something?" she asked.

"Of course," he replied.

"I don't want to get ahead of the curve, but I really like you," she said.

"I really like you too," Brendan replied.

"I'm so curious about you, dude," admitted Jessica. "I've been single for a long time, though. I need you to know that."

"Whereas I'm just coming out of a relationship. But it's not like I've got any residual feelings mixed up with that, because I don't." He finished his sandwich. "I'm not hung up on my ex in any way."

Jessica checked the time on her phone. "I've got some more clothes to sell," she sighed, preparing to trudge back to Walmart. Outside, it had begun to rain. She hadn't brought her umbrella with her.

"Come this way," said Brendan, steering her path towards his car. He pressed a button on his keyring and the trunk opened. He retrieved a large golf umbrella.

He sheltered her, and together, they approached Walmart.

"Thank you," whispered Jessica. "See you tonight?"

"Sure. What do you want to do?"

"We could grab a bite to eat, then maybe you could come to my place?"

"OK."

"You could stay over, too." Jessica looked at the ground, shuffling her feet. "I mean, if you'd like to."

"I would," he grinned. "What time do you finish?"

"Half past five."

"I'll be here," he said. "I'll pick you up after work."

Jessica waved. She dragged her minimum wage ass back into megacorporate America.

*

Just before half past five, Brendan pulled up in the Walmart carpark. A bag lay on the backseat of his car. It contained a change of clothes for tomorrow and some overnight necessities, including his toothbrush. He'd also packed his Femboi Hooters outfit, just in case the conversation went that way.

He made sure the car stereo was off before killing the engine. It was still raining -- he walked to the entrance underneath his umbrella. He ran his fingers through his thick blonde hair. His locks were growing fast. He placed a cap on his head, peak facing backwards.

Jessica found him straight away. She looked fucking amazing. She wore a denim jacket, laden with band patches, over a black t-shirt that highlighted her bulging rack. He noticed her black skirt and her cherry red boots. Her lips were painted a bright, glossy red. "Hey," she said.

"Wow," said Brendan. "You look incredible."

"Thanks," she blushed.

"Can I escort you to my automobile?"

Silently, they walked through the rain to Brendan's car. Jessica climbed into the passenger seat. Her bag, containing her work uniform, lay at her feet. "I forgot how to get to your place," Brendan admitted.

"You hungry?" asked his passenger. "Wanna get something to eat first?"

"Sure," Brendan agreed. He started the ignition and flicked the windscreen wipers back on. "Tell me where you want to go."

"Anywhere but Subway," laughed Jessica. "Fuck that shit."

Brendan turned onto the road and followed her directions across the State line to her destination of choice, about five blocks west of her apartment. His car stereo remained silent. He pulled up in the carpark behind a fish and chicken joint on Prospect Avenue. The interior was brightly lit, with a handful of lurid plastic tables and chairs scattered throughout the space. Brendan perused the menu, lit up behind the counter, and ordered the fish sandwich meal, with fries and a Coke. Jessica asked for the chicken equivalent.

"Two takeout meals in one day," she commented, carrying her tray to a table.

"Someone should write a song about that," he replied.

Jessica played air guitar, growling like a death metal vocalist. "I ate Japanese chicken for lunch on a sandwich, then I had deep fried bird on bread for dinner, the flames of hell rose high and everything was dead... two chicken sandwiches, two chicken sandwiches..."

"Aren't the words meant to rhyme?"

"Shut up," Jessica grinned softly. Self-consciously, she ran her fingers through her black hair. She grabbed some fries, and they ate in silence for a while. Outside, it was still raining. "Hey, what music do you like?"

Brendan gulped nervously. "I'm not sure."

"You're not sure," she smirked, "or you're embarrassed, and you don't wanna tell me?"

"There's a Dire Straits CD in the car stereo."

Jessica gave the appearance of a thoughtful nod, but inside, she was shocked to the core.

"Not that I'm into them," Brendan backpedalled. "It's Steph's. I need to give it back to her."

Jessica dark eyes smiled. "That's cool." Her dad was into Dire Straits. She remembered them from her childhood. Those perfect, golden days before her parents disowned her. "Can we listen to it later?"

Brendan didn't respond. He wondered if he was being judged.

They ate quietly, their silence broken only by shallow observations about the weather. Once they were done, they threw their trash in the can and left.

"We need wine," Jessica declared as they climbed back into Brendan's car. "I know a place." Brendan navigated his way back out onto the road, and moments later, he pulled up at the kerb beside a quiet corner store. She led the way as they walked inside. The wine section was way up back. Brendan opened the fridge and grabbed two bottles of New Zealand sauvignon blanc. "Hey, big spender!" Jessica joked.

"Huh?" replied a surprised Brendan.

"I'm all for imported wine, but I usually go for the two-dollar French antifreeze." Jessica held up a bottle of her regular poison of choice.

"This is better," Brendan persuaded.

"Fine by me if you're buying," she shrugged.

He carried the bottles to the register. The cashier rung up the sale and they headed back to the car. "Still can't remember exactly where you live," he admitted. "I don't come to the Missouri side of the border very often," he pleaded.