It was Friday evening, and Paul strutted into his favorite gay bar, The Purple Knight, moving easily in his red high-heeled pumps. He had no trouble walking in them, because he had gotten used to those shoes or others like them over the last few years. During week days, he wore what was called "office casual" at his job on the order desk of a high-tech manufacturer. On weekends he let his true nature take over, carefully applying makeup and attiring his slender body in provocative women's outer clothing and sleazy lingerie from Frederick's of Hollywood, including a well-padded bra.
He expected to find some sexual companionship at The Knight, either a gay man or a straight one, who would appreciate the virtues of his mouth or his smooth, round ass. He had never had much body hair anyhow, and that Friday night before going out, he had carefully shaved himself there. Paul actually preferred horny straight men, which is why he liked going out in drag and being as feminine as he could. He knew this could be dangerous, which is one reason for choosing The Purple Knight. The owners knew what their patrons wanted, and they helped them get it as safely as possible.
As was usual on Friday nights, the tavern was busy, and Paul greeted friends and previous sex partners as he approached the bar. They all responded to him, greeting him as "Pauletta," a name he preferred using while in drag. After taking one of the few bar stools available, he ordered a small glass of white wine, as was his wont, because he liked the taste of the drink and he knew drinking lightly would help him enjoy the sexual adventure he expected to have that night.
He looked first at the man to his right, a tall, young black man in a blue and white plaid sports coat. To Pauletta, he seemed to be a suitable partner, so he "accidently" brushed against his arm while raising his drink. The young man glanced at his neighbor, turned away and moved slightly to the right, tacitly expressing his lack of interest, at least at that time. The silent rejection did not bother Paul; he was used to it, and turned his thoughts to the man on his other side, making an initial contact the same way.
He had better luck there. The man on his left was white and about thirty years old, and he turned to face the newcomer, who happened to be exactly what he was looking for that evening. "Hi," he greeted him while offering his hand to shake. "My name's Brendan."
"Hi, Brendan. My name is Pauletta. What are you drinking?"
"Beer." Brendan held up his bottle of imported beer.
"Oooo, I like guys who drink beer. It's such a manly thing." Paul signaled to the bartender for another glass of wine for himself and a bottle of beer for his new friend. He paid for them when they arrived and turned back to Brendan, who was patting him on his shapely ass.
"Oh, you're so fresh," he giggled with a big smile on his lipsticked mouth. Paul leaned against the bar and raised himself so he could pull his mini-skirt out from under himself, giving the other man's hand better access to his ass. "I like guys who are fresh and know what they want."
Brendan knew what he wanted alright, and he slipped his right hand under Pauletta's skirt to fondle his curvy ass in the silky panties, even running a finger down the cleft. He was fully aware his companion was a gay man in drag, and that was exactly his reason for coming into the bar that evening. Brendan, although that was not his real name, was horny and preferred a quick and sure fuck of a gay man to trying to pick up and seduce a woman and very likely being shot down. He moved his bar stool closer to his intended sex partner and his hand boldly continued its exploration of what he thought of as a very sexy ass, even if the owner was not a woman.
"Sweetie, I have to go to the little boys' room. Would you like to join me there?" Pauletta affectionately brushed the hand away from his ass and stood up. After draining the last of his glass of wine, he picked up his purse. He hoped and expected to be gone quite a while.
"Sure." Brendan also finished off his drink, left the empty bottle and glass on the bar and stood up.
Paul led the way, ass swaying seductively, while his new friend followed him eagerly, staying close enough that nobody got between them, but far enough away to enjoy the view. Brendan entered through the door being held open for him, and both men headed for one of several cubicles in the clean, warm and well-lighted room. They both knew what they wanted, and made no further pretense of being there for any other reason.
The men's room in The Purple Knight is much larger and more well-appointed than most people would think necessary in a rather small bar. There's a good reason for this; the management knows why their patrons come there and want them to be satisfied at every aspect, and to stay there for sex rather than going off to a hotel or similar place. After Brendan had locked the door behind them, Pauletta gave him a condom and a small bottle of lubricant he had taken out of his purse. He kicked off his shoes and leaned on his hands against the water tank of the toilet, with his bare feet on either side of the commode and his legs spread wide enough to make it easier to do what they had gone there for.
"Just put on the rubber and lift my skirt. You don't even have to pull down my panties."
Brendan dropped his pants and boxer shorts to the floor and rolled the condom onto his cock, which had become hard from his fondling Pauletta's shapely and very feminine ass. He was prepared, so he lifted the skirt and folded it onto his back and saw what had been meant about the panties, which were black and ruffled and crotchless. They were designed for a woman who wanted to make her pussy available without removing them, and Pauletta was wearing them backward so his ass would be what was available. Before he did anything else, Brendan gently squeezed both cheeks, thinking how lucky he was for finding such a sexy partner so easily.
Paul quivered with delight when he felt the neck of the squeeze bottle inserted in his ass, and felt more and much greater thrills when a gush of cool, oily liquid entered him. His delight was made greater by what he knew the neck and the lubricant presaged. Pauletta accepted the bottle when it was handed back to him and capped it, setting it on top of the water tank and reaching back to spread the cheeks of his ass, also moving the ruffles of the panties out of the way and giving a better view of what he was so proud of.
That pride was justified. Brendan was being presented with one of the prettiest asses he had ever seen, round and soft and with a creamy-white and hairless cleft that had just been made visible to him. The pink hole he would be fucking was a cutie too, and reminded him of a tiny rosebud that was blossoming just for him, because Pauletta was holding it spread open. He had not put any lubrication on himself, because he believed, correctly, that his partner's ass would be loose enough and oily enough that nothing additional would be necessary.
