After Monday Night Football -- Gus

I guess if we're going to keep meeting like this, I should tell you some about myself.
I'm Ken. Kenny will also do, and Kenneth only if you're my mom.

You probably want to know why I was in a story about gloryholes and cross dressing.
Do we really need labels? Let's just say I'm a guy who likes to suck a cock once in a while. But I know how good pussy is too.

In Church of Monday Night Football, I told about my adventure in meeting Gus, and how he introduced me to cross dressing.
Gus recruited me because I could imitate a woman well enough to make a room full of men believe I was the real thing.
And on a Monday night, I did meet and suck a room full of men.

The next day Gus calls me. Bob is sorry for the way he acted, but Bob is always sorry. The reason he's such an asshole is because I'm the only ass he ever had that he didn't have to pay for.
Gus said the rest of the Church of MNF has decided no more hookers. Wendy has spoiled them. They'll do without until he can get Wendy to attend again. They said they would each put up $500 for any charity I name.
I said maybe, for the play offs.

"I got to tell you kid, you were the greatest. You pulled it off. I knew you would."
Gus goes on and on telling me how great I was and what a big hit I was with the guys.

"Duh, I sucked their cocks. Of course I was a hit," I said, in Wendy voice.
But I agree it was something more. Gus realized that when he sought me out.

With hookers, the women were real, and the expensive call girl was technically good but something was missing.
Gus said he had first thought of paying for a girl secretly and telling his group that she was doing them because she likes sucking cock. But he didn't think it would work out the way he wanted.
He needed someone like me. Someone who really did want to suck those cocks.
The men could be fooled into thinking I was a woman. But a man couldn't be fooled about whether the person sucking his cock was doing it because she wanted to.

The women they paid could give a great blow job but the men could tell it was the money.
Gus said the most important thing for these men, what came across to them, was I wanted to do what I was doing. I wanted their cocks and that was a part of them. So they realize in a way, I wanted them too.
Being wanted sexually, I guess everyone needs that sometimes.

Things turned out great for Gus. His buddies are all business associates. Gus is getting a big promotion from this.
Please don't get the wrong idea about my Gus. This isn't a reward for pandering.
He is the man who can deliver.
That's what he proved. Gus was the one who figured out what was needed to do the job right.
Every one remembers that night with Wendy with a fondness. No one has made any rude comments. It is something special they all share, and feel good about having been a part of something.
And Gus made that happen.

Sometime, when I'm ready, Wendy will attend another Church of Monday Night Football gathering.

Gus doesn't know where I live. I have a cellphone he gave me, and I have an address and phone number to reach him.
We talk sometimes, and we meet sometimes. I've gone both as myself and as Wendy.
Gus is something new for me. We have a relationship.

Gus does know where I work, and what I do for a living. I'm a bike messenger. I get around town zipping between cars during the busiest time of the day, delivering things. Usually it's paperwork needing a signature.
Gus has had me visit him at his work, using my messenger job as a cover.
Usually it's a quick visit. I go into his office, apparently to receive instructions on the delivery.
But what most often happens is I sit on Gus's desk and he sucks my cock. Sometimes, I ask Gus to sit on the desk and let me get a little afternoon refreshening.

It's not all just quickies. Gus has taken me on a few dates.
Then, I go as Wendy. With practice, I'm getting better at creating Wendy. On my own, I can get her to pass casual scrutiny. But I like having a reason to drop in on Betty.
Betty is the real mother/artist who created Wendy. I am just her clay.
When ever I have a date with Gus, I have Betty do Wendy's make-up. She always teaches me something new about how to be a girl.

On our dates, Gus always takes me somewhere nice and public. He likes showing me off.
He once joked that I'm his Julia Roberts, a Pretty Women for someone like him.
Actually, Betty had Calista Flockhart in mind when she made Wendy. We share similar body types.

This is the story about my first real date with Gus.

For my first date with Gus, Betty dressed me up to look like Calista as she appeared at the ending of "Birdcage".
Gus took me to the dinner at his club, a downtown establishment that requires money and connections.

I know not to put my feet on the table, and don't spit on the floor. But I was intimidated when I first heard where Gus was taking me on our date. I went to a library to find out what fork to use, but Betty's advice to just follow Gus's lead and use my common sense.

I met Gus in the lobby of where he works. He was wearing a new suit, very distinguish. It was tailored to fit, and expensive. It was clear my guy wasn't just another white collar desk filler. He was a leader.
Gus looked so good, I had to take account at how I looked.
My hair, (well okay, wig,) was short and close. black and cut similar to Catherine Zita-Jones in "Chicago". I wore a silver cocktail dress. Full sleeves, with a generous but not immodest cut to the top. I did show some cleavage, but I was bra-less and wearing only B cup sized breast. Betty is a true artist and I could be naked and they would still look like they were mine.
The skirt of the dress was tight and short. It was well above my knees, but long enough that I could move around a lot and not flash my panties. I was wearing panties, white ones, not thongs, but full enough to cover as least half my ass. Over everything, nude pantyhose.
I showed a lot of silky smooth leg, and freshly made up toes in a pair of three inch sling back sandals, silver that matched my dress. 

I told Gus that he looked nice and maybe was dressed too fine to be stuck with me.

"Are you kidding. Wendy, you look great. You look class. You're going to make every man there jealous of me for being with you."
Gus had me turn about to show off my dress. Then he handed me a present. It was a clutch purse to match my dress. I won't give you a name, but it must have cost a couple of weeks pay. My pay, I mean. Anyway, it was very nice.

We went to Gus's car. His place of work didn't have much parking, but Gus had his own parking space.
We got into the car, and I couldn't wait anymore. I moved over and kissed him.
Gus kissed back and held me tight.
I parted my lips, trying to draw his tongue into my mouth.
When it didn't come, I flicked my tongue into his mouth and his tongue followed mine back.
We kissed harder, and I leaned closer, pressing my "breast" against him.

"Oh, baby. You are such a fabulous find."

I didn't let him talk anymore but covered his mouth with mine. We kissed more, his tongue no longer timid.

I moaned, and told him I was his and would do anything. I turned to him, now kneeling on the seat next to him. There was room in this big car. I could easily go down on him, there was plenty of room between his lap and the steering wheel.

But Gus broke the kiss.
"Wendy, you can't know how much I am tempted right now. But I want to show you off to my associates."

We hugged again, and I kissed his ear. Then I whispered too quietly for him to hear.
"I love you. You don't have to say it. You don't have to feel it. But I love you."
Sometimes, Wendy takes complete control and takes even me by surprise.

I sat down and buckled my seat-belt. Gus started the car and we left the garage.

We didn't go that far. Not across town, but it took a half hour to drive the several blocks in the busy traffic.
At the club, a valet met us at the curb and took the car.
The place was big and in the middle of city. Old architecture but maintained and upgraded. Solid wood panels and marble floors and all kept up. The place reeked success.

We were greeted in the lobby. "Good evening, Mr. McNeil," the receptionist said. She was middle aged, but good looking, and had an air of competence.
She gave me a smile and welcomed me to the club.
"You have a reservation at seven in the dining room," she said to Gus. "Do you want me to see if you can be seated sooner?" she asked.

"Thank you, Mary," my guy said to Mary, the receptionist.
Gus asked me, "Wendy, are you very hungry? or would you like me to show you around the humble place."

Mary needed my name in her register if I was to go past the restaurant.
"Parker," I said, making up a name on the spot. "Wendy Parker."

"Welcome, Wendy," she said. "Enjoy your visit, and don't let Auggie bore you with this old stogy place."
She said it pleasantly, and with an easy humorous manner. The grandness of the place was obvious. Mary knew she didn't have to promote it.

I knew that Auggie was Gus. Most people used called him Auggie. Gus is the name his childhood friends and the people closest to him get to use.
Augustus is grand and no one calls my date by that.

We walked past the dining room. It was actually a restaurant, and if a person came off the street, they could make a reservation to eat there. It would be an expensive meal, but a very good one.