Mando B. 01: Good Ass/badass

CHAPTER 4: THE LESBIAN & THE PRIEST

DANNY continues her story

It's been over a year since I hired Kammy. She's indispensable. She trains hard with me and does her job with the diligence of someone with OCS. Someone like me, except I don't think of it as OCS; for me it's COS. It means the same thing but I prefer to arrange the letters alphabetically-that's an inside joke between me and myself.

My ten year college reunion is coming up, and all I can think night and day is seeing Gino again. I have no idea if he is even going, but I do know he is the only reason I will go.

Before I met Gino, no man ever turned me on; even entertained the idea of being fucked by one just to see what it is like. I was a card carrying clits and tits gal. I had never been with a man, but I wanted to be with this one. A priest hooking up with a lesbian. What was it about him that made me trade clits for a cock, and tits for balls? For starters, he had a world class cock; a cock that I loved more than Gino at times.

We separated after college. I didn't want to, but our career choices took us on different paths. I went Simper Phi and became an officer in the Marine Corp, and he took his vows as a Priest. During those ten years I fucked girls, and I guess he fucked mother palm and her five daughters.

****

Our ten year college reunion is getting closer and closer and I'm nervous as hell about seeing Gino after so long. One minute I am afraid he won't be there, and the next I'm afraid he will.

We had our differences. I loved fun and guns; he loved god and goodness. I loved a good fight and he loved to fight for good. The same gender turned me on. The same gender turned him off. He loved Jesus and the disciples and I loved his Cock and Celtic Women. It's as if Michael Angelo brushed him into being, and Pablo Picasso's imagination dreamed me up. Even though we were like chalk and cheese when it came to philosophy and core beliefs, I could never love anyone more.

But the real knock down drag out argument concerned me going into the Marines. He was a Pacifist. Period. I was part of the government's killing machine, according to him. Violence was the medicine for all major conflicts; war. A marine is trained to be violent. A priest is trained to be peaceful. Near the end of college I refused to discuss those topics. "Dammit, I am going to be a marine, not a priest, so get over it."

He was peaceful to be around. When I was with him the radical me took a sabbatical. He couldn't tame my wild side, nor did he try, but he had a taming influence on me just the same. To him I was me and that's how it should be. He loved me as I was, not who he hoped or wanted me to be. If he sounds like a wimp, that's my fault in the way I am describing him. He has never been a wimp. He was a man's man. Even though I am a dyke and love feminine women, I don't give a rat's ass for feminine men. I want men to be strong, tough, smart, and aggressive. They'd have to be those things with me or I'll bully them out of the ring.

We were athletes, martial artists, master archers, marathoners,  and concert enthusiasts. We were a baggy fit, but a fit just the same. That may be why I stick with bitches. Most men I've known could never be a fit for me. All the men I've met were misfits. Or more accurately, Mr. Fits. Now that I think of it, being a fit for Gino makes me his Miss Fit.

The  class reunion is only three days away and the only man I ever loved is registered to be there. This may sound like stories you've heard before, but it's one I've never told. Here's the pisser. I'm a dike and he's a macho man. See the problem? I'm a man with a pussy and he's a man with a cock. How will this macho man react to me since years in the Marines has turned me into a macho woman? Hell! I don't know how this macho woman is going to react around that macho man after all these years. Will we clash and crash, or just feel awkward for a bit until we adjust to the new us?

I don't have a clue how to select appropriate clothes for the reunion. Especially if I wanted to capture Gino's eye, so I depended on Kammy for help and guidance. Jeans, boots, and leather didn't seem appropriate.

****

From the day I receive that reunion invitation I am committed to going. But the closer the date comes, the hotter the heat gets, the colder the feet are. Sometimes they are so cold I expect to wake up with frostbite.

"But all I had to do to warm those chilly piggies was to think of his body and that monster cock. I remember thinking that he looked like a Greek god. His rich dark tan almost looked like brass. He was so muscular even those muscles had muscles. Oh my god. That sculpted body wrapped in golden tan skin was crowned with a head of snow white hair! He was ten floors above amazing. He was more than a million dollar body; he was the epitome of what a combination of intelligence, wisdom. and strength looked like. Muscle and brains on the hoof. I concluded he had to be a Greek god with hazel eyes.

Oh shit! What does a dyke say to a macho god she hasn't seen in ten years?

How about, Hi, Gino you look great! If you didn't bring that big cock with you I'm going home."NOT!" I'm not too worried about him guessing I am a certified muff diver. I've still got a well defined body, and though I've never been beautiful, a frock and little make-up and I almost look feminine and pretty (Yuck!). He'll slap any fool who calls me a dike. If he doesn't I will.

Thing is, I have a hard time picturing myself wearing a cute little dress and make up."

That thought made me jump like a dog peeing on an electric fence. Am I crazy? WHY WOULD I WANT TO LOOK FEMININE???

****

T

I figure that's what it would take for me to avoid making a fool out of myself. He didn't like guns and violence, and that's what I do full time now. I am a specialist in personal protection and rescue. Not just a bodyguard, but a specialist. Most jobs require me to eliminate some criminal element. He'll hate me for it. I left the Marines and earn  a living by being rough, tough, and smart. Besides that, being a dyke won't win any awards either.

I conclude it will be easy to bypass the reunion by hopping on my steel steed and skedaddle in the saddle. Yeah. Right. Run away from that exquisite cock instead of to it? That made no sense either. Am I that stupid?

What can happen when a lesbian who's only been to bed with one man is going to see that same man after eons of being in bed exclusively with women? Good things? Embarrassing things? Hell on wheels, Lucile! I've had no real cock in ten years. The only cock I know anything about now is one I have to strap on. I'll make a fool out of myself. I'm not going and that's final.

Hey! What can happen when a pacifist and an armed woman dance? I press against his cock and he'll press against my gun? Not good. Definitely not good. I'm not going.

When he finds out guns are my friends and firefights are common for me he'll probably go get drunk or something. How about when I say, "Yes, Gino, my line of work requires me to snuff bad guys who are doing bad things like kidnappings and assassinations." What will he do? Dump me, that's what. Sheee-it. I'm doomed to go boom. Crash and burn for certain. Yep. Goodbye monster cock. So long Yummy dick. Farewell, my love.

Damn, that's depressing. But why am I even thinking about it if I'm not going? Go figure. I guess it's just on my mind that's all.

Besides, he could have quit the church and be married with two kids, a house in the burbs and a SUV. Or he might show up with a goofy ass girlfriend from Beverly Hills dangling from his arm. Humph. That bitch better not get close to me because I'll slap her poaching ass so far from him she'll need a passport to get back home. Hell's bells in a dry well; what is the REAL problem? What bothers me most? What is my real fear?

The problem is wondering how he will react when he discovers I am a pistol packing cunt licker. Yikes, she's a dyke! AAAAHHHHHHHRRRRGGGGG!".

He knew I liked guns but he didn't know I liked girls. Men love the ideas of getting it on with a lesbian, but dykes either intimidate them or they consider dykes to be men in women's bodies. What macho man wants to go out with another man? Will he offer to go after our drinks or punch as an excuse to duck out of the reunion? Hell in a dry well! It's not something I can hide for long. My friends call me the main man. "What's up my man?" The locals coming to the reunion know I prefer clits and tits. Oh damn, damn, damn! Who am I kidding? I don't want to be a woman. But I do want to be his woman and that pisses me off. Anyway, no problem! I'm not going, so it's a moot point.

But hey! What's all this, "What if" bull shit? What if he's married, what if he has a girlfriend, what if he discovers I am a dyke who makes her living killing bad ass motherfuckers. He'll call me a gunslinger; a gun for hire. What if this? What if that? What if, what if, what if? I am going CRAZY with the "what ifs!" Enough already!

"Oh-ooo shit! What if he has dumped god and goes for me? What if he asks me to marry him? And what if I kiss him and hate the kiss of a man after all these years? After all, I'm the man in my relationships. Can I even pretend to be anything other than a masculine woman? Should I even try? I'm confused. I don't know. How should I know?

I should forget about this whole Gino idea and get on with my life. He'll be a blip on my screen and put a hole in my heart and mess up my head. I want to stay a dyke, damn it! GET OUT OF MY HEAD, Gino! GO! Scoot! Scat! Good riddance! I'm NOT going to the reunion, so get over it!."

But I am curious about that beautiful, lovable, sexy, thick, hard cock. Is it even possible for a dyke to hang up her lean, mean, fighting machine persona and take the weekend off to pretend to be all woman? Nah. I'm just punishing myself without justification or cause. After all, I'm so masculine I'll look like a drag queen dressed in that fancy dress and my face all made up. And my purse will be a gunny sack because it'll have my three eighty and slim nine pistols in it. Why should I even consider going? Makes no sense.

But still, I am curious...

****

Kammy, books a room for me at the hotel hosting the reunion so I can have a makeover that morning and go strait to the hotel and stay out of sight.

Kammy tries to steer me right."Danny, you need to look your best when you see Gino. Showing a little femininity won't hurt."

"WHAT? Are you crazy? Why would I want to look feminine? People will get the wrong idea. I'm a bad ass, remember? Not a sweet ass."

"Yes, God forbid they think you are a woman!"

I shake my head in misery. "I'm a woman through and through and proud of it. I'm just not a frilly one with a sweet smile and silly giggle. Oh, I'm not sure I'm up to this, Kammy. I feel like Cinderella being dressed like a princess for the ball. I'll crack or break those class slippers and make a fool out of me, Cinderella, and that goddamn Fairy Godmother. If you bring out glass slippers I'm leaving. I'll take his balls, and you and Cinderella fight over the dress for the grand ball."

She giggles.

"Give me tactical attire, O' Fairy Motherfucker, and save the dress for a fairy nice guy."

Kammy turns wise and confronts me with a beast of a question. "Question is, Danny, if a dress and makeup is the price of seeing him and his cock again, are you willing to pay it?"

"Will I pay it? I guess so. Probably, but I'd like to find an alternative." I roll my eyes. Now I'll have visions of me wearing a dress and makeup that will haunt me in my sleep! Terrorize me in my dreams."

"Just remind yourself why you'll do it and you'll feel better." Kammy advises.

"Wait a minute, Kammy. I just had a pregnant thought; no one but Gino brings out the woman-who-likes-men type woman in me, and I'm seeing the bastard again! I don't want the man-loving-woman out. "STAY WHERE YOU ARE, YOU TRAITOR HETERO SEXUAL WOMAN! STAY!"

Kammy doubles up laughing at me, the bitch."

"Makeup! What the hell am I thinking?"

****

The closer it gets to the day, the more nervous and jittery I am. In the morning I am resolved to go. By one o'clock my resolve dissolves. By dinner I'm adamant: "I am not going, and that is final! It has been final every evening for the past three weeks. Who? Me? Go to see the man who may reject the gay gal with a gun. No thanks. I'll pass. I'll find a reason to hide and bury my head in the cat litter. If I go, I'll make a fool out of myself. I know I will. I'll be better off touring the back roads on my Harley that weekend. I figure that's what it will take for me to avoid making a fool out of myself. Yikes! What will happen when he discovers what I do for a living? Gino doesn't like guns and violence, and my work includes both. Hell, it IS both.

The Government is the primary client for my agency. I am a specialist in counter-terrorism, extractions, and rescues. The agency specializes in hostage retrieval and a specialized form of protection. Most jobs require me to eliminate criminal elements and he'll hate me for it. I became an inactive-Marine to work for the Government as an independent contractor. My profession requires a rough, tough, smart freelance agent that is available to the government for special assignments. Some assignments are heavy black ops, and some are quite light. I may disappear for months working undercover in the terrorist community. Occasionally, a civilian job comes up that pays big bucks. Besides the gun and violence thing, being a dyke will win no awards either. I doubt me being wealthy will surprise him. He attended my last three fights. He knows I cashed in big time on the last one. The high fees I charge keep the pile growing.

Who am I, Gino? I'm a masculine, gay, gun slinging bitch who can't talk about her work. I guess owning an armory and indoor and outdoor shooting range sort of gives me away. Not real pacifist stuff. It will be better for both of us if I slip into the saddle of my steel steed and skedaddle that weekend.

Yeah. Right. Run away from that exquisite cock instead of to it? That makes as much sense as giving eunuchs a lifetime supply of condoms.

Besides, what will happen when the lesbian sees her man? Embarrassing things? Hell on wheels, Lucile! I've had no real cock in ten years. I'll make a fool out of myself. I'm not going.

Kammy is pushing like a bulldozer for me to go. She says I need downtime and fresh air. That's what she says, but I bet it's a ruse to get me in a dress, that disrespectful heifer!

Another thing; what happens when the pacifist and woman are dancing and he presses against my pistol handle. I bet dancing with an armed woman will freak him outside the twenty-five mile limit to international waters. If he finds out guns are my friends and firefights are the norm, he'll either get drunk or Fed-Ex himself back to China.

How about when I say, "Yes, Gino, my work requires me to snuff bad guys like kidnappers and assassins?" That's funny, but why am I thinking about it since I'm not going? Go figure. I guess it's because it's on my mind that's all. Right. My mind is on his cock is more likely.

Besides, he may have quit the church and got married and have two kids, a house in the burbs and an SUV. Or he might show up with a goofy ass girlfriend from Beverly Hills dangling from his arm. Humph. That bitch better not get close to this bitch because I'll slap her poaching ass so far from him she'll need a passport to get home.

I am fussing and fuming today like all the other days when Kammy blows her scalp. She gets mean and faces off with me. I don't like it. That meddling pushy house manager, split tailed butler, asks a rude question. I ought to fire that pushy ass bitch for exposing my real issues. She says, "Hell's bells in a dry well, Danny! What is the REAL problem? Think! What is your deepest fear- your REAL fear? What bothers you most?"

Challenging me to face myself is mean. Walking off to avoid facing Kammy seems like a good reaction, but I figure if I do she'll grow a set of balls and ask me again. I grudgingly answer. "Kammy, the problem is wondering how he will react when he discovers I am a pistol packing dyke. He knew ten years ago I liked guns but he didn't know I liked girls. Men love the ideas of getting it on with a lesbian, but dykes either intimidate them or they consider dykes to be men in women's bodies. What macho man wants another man, dick or no dick? See what I'm up against?"

She giggles. "I thought you wanted to be against it." Then the giggles galloped away leaving those penetrating almond shaped oriental eyes staring into mine. "You still love him don't you, Danny? Isn't that what makes everything else matter so much?"

How the hell she got so smart and insightful I'll figure out later, but she cut my juggler with that one. I take the direct path by ignoring what she said. "Kammy, how will he react when he finds out? He'll offer to fetch us that green punch that has neither punch nor kick. That'll give him an excuse to duck out of the reunion."

Next thing she says confirms she's on his side now, I know it, because she sure as hell ain't on mine. "Danny, you don't know that. You're still looking for an excuse to duck out."

She frowns."Shit woman, you are so much more than a gun slinging dyke. You are the most incredible woman that ever walked this earth. The world will never fully know or appreciate the contributions you continue to make to women and families, the genius you are, the lives you've saved, and goddammit Danny you are a bigger than life action hero. You stand for something and do something about it. You are hands down the best at what you do. And by god you bring out the best in me! No one has ever believed in me that way you do." Her eyes are brimming with tears, passion and compassion.

"It's really upsetting to hear you wrap yourself in such a small, limited package that can never hold you." She stops abruptly, apparently embarrassed, and hurries toward the door.

I yell, "Stop. Stay with me. You can be so mean by making me see past my own insecurities and be so right, damn you. I laugh and open my arms for a hug. "Now that you've told me off, I need a hug."

She runs to me and buries her head just below my shoulders and sobs.

"Whew girl, you make me sound like someone I'd like to meet." I hug her tight and rock back and forth. "I love my little Kammy, but you don't let me get away with much do you?"

That gets a smile. "I guess I can be too blunt and insensitive, but I mean well."

I kiss her on the forehead. "I've never doubted your intentions. You are very good for me."

I step back. "But Kammy, I've got to deal with my concerns even if they are unwarranted."

She sniffs. "Deal with them, instead of them dealing with you."

"Yes, but it's a fact that I'm an alpha with high testosterone. It's not something I can hide for long, Kammy. My friends call me the main man. Like, "What's up my man?" The locals who attend the reunion know I prefer clits and tits."

Then without warning I'm the worry warrior again. "Oh damn, damn, damn! What if he's forgotten me, Kammy? What if he expects the woman he loved and ends up the woman he wants to leave? What will happen if he expects a Porsche and gets a Mack truck? Shit fire and save the Bic, Kammy, you know I'm not now nor could I be a butterfly in a beautiful dress, matching shoes, purse and all that feminine Beverly Hills bull."

Kammy goes, "Tisk-tisk. I know no such thing. Like you said, you felt like a woman around him, didn't you? Problem is, you're afraid he'll do it again, and you'll like it. Doesn't that sound right?"

"Smart ass! Who am I kidding? Yes, damn it, I still want to be his woman and that pisses me off. If that asshole is putting me through an identity crisis before he even shows his handsome cock-I mean-his handsome face, what will happen when he's standing in front of me?"