This 100% fictional story contains gay sex, transsexual sex, non-consensual sex and drugs. It fits a lot of categories, but I chose the gay category to post it. Some may disagree with the genre I chose, but it's all about the cock.
Short People...
Last February, right before Covid hit, me and a college buddy, Gary, went to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. We planned to stay for the weekend and had secured a balcony hotel room overlooking Bourbon Street. We were both freshman and I had just turned 19. Even though we were under the legal drinking age, we had heard numerous stories that we would have absolutely no trouble whatsoever buying alcohol in the Big Easy.
I'm almost 5' 8"s tall, 140ish lbs. I'm pretty toned as we are both on our college swimming team. My hair is a dirty blonde color and probably a little long for a swimmer, reaching my shoulders. I usually wear it combed straight back or in a pony tail, but when I swim, I wear a rubber swimming cap. I'm pretty smooth, actually not even able to grow a decent amount of stubble on my face yet. Still, I shave what little body hair I do have completely smooth as the coach encourages it, telling us it will improve our speed in the water. I think I'm considered attractive, I'm not bragging at all, but more than one coed has said I'm cute and I do pretty good with the girls. Girls always seem to comment on my facial bone structure, my cheeks, nose and chin, saying I look like a male model and also liking my bright blue eyes. Again, not bragging, but I do pretty good with the girls. Like most swimmers, my thighs and especially my butt are both toned, firm and pretty muscular for my size. My stomach and arms are also toned, having a nice six pack on my abs, but I am lean, no body fat to speak of.
We hit several bars where all the drinks seemed weak and pricey, but we didn't care, we were still getting pretty buzzed and having a blast. Gary is usually pretty quiet and reserved, while I'm just the opposite, loud and sometimes obnoxious I'm told. I have been called a "smart ass" on more than one occasion. I can't help it, I speak before I think usually. I don't mean to be an asshole and I am trying to be more like Gary, but I will be the first to admit, I do get a little out of hand, especially when I drink.
After a couple of hours of cruising Bourbon Street and drinking anywhere we stopped, Gary seemed way more inebriated than me. Which is really kind of funny, as he is a pretty big guy compared to me. Each of us had consumed probably 8 weak ass drinks already and I was feeling good. About 4 blocks from our hotel, we stumbled into another dark, dirty bar on Bourbon Street and were surprised to find out that it's venue was to cater to fans of female impersonators.
Going inside, I immediately noticed the "girl's" were not very pretty, not very girly. Their outfits were beyond gaudy and flamboyant, trying desperately to be glamorous and feminine. They were basically overdressed with boas, feathers, lace and sequins, but not what I could call very passable. Extra heavy on the make up, especially on their eyes, was par for the course. It was dark in there and I doubted any of them could be mistaken for females in the daylight.
Stumbling up to the bar and grabbing stools, we were immediately approached by a tall, somewhat rubenesque female impersonator. She asked me if I wanted to buy her a drink. I laughed right in her face and made a loud comment for all to hear, saying I would never be so desperate in my life to buy her a drink. She was definitely offended and stormed off to a group of her "girl friends" in the corner. Gary and I just laughed it off and we ordered their 2 drink per person minimum. In my inebriated state, I openly and loudly made a few crude comments about the girls, to which the bartender and the other patrons seemed to frown on, but nobody said anything to us about it. Gary encouraged me by laughing at all my crude jokes and insensitive comments about this club.
While we sipped our first of two drinks each, I continued to openly berate the bar and the female impersonators loudly. I saw a guy enter the bar and sit two seats down from me. He was a midget, or a short person, or whatever the politically correct term is. He was maybe 4 or 4 1/2 feet tall and he actually had to step up on the bottom rung of his bar stool just to get up into his seat. He looked pretty normal facially, like anyone else, except for his height. He was actually just an average guy I guess, if he just wasn't so short.
I kind of felt sorry for him at first, but for some reason, probably the booze in me, I loudly said for all to hear, "Hey look, it's the Lollipop Guild." Then standing up, I stuck my thumbs in my pockets and went into a chorus of "We Represent the Loillipop Guild". Actually kicking up my feet up while singing and mimicking their weird little distorted voices from the movie the Wizard of Oz. I couldn't help myself, I was pretty drunk and was encouraged to continue with my antics by making Gary laugh too. My little skit did not go unnoticed.
Now, Gary is a pretty big guy for a competitive swimmer. Nobody messes with him. He's about 6' 2"s tall and around 190 lbs. of pure toned muscle. He looks pretty intimidating with his muscled arms and chest, so I felt his presence made me safe to be my regular "smart ass" self.
However, he was smashed and he wasn't holding his liquor well, but I boldly laughed out loud encouraging him to laugh with me. As you can imagine, nobody was laughing with us, especially the midget, but I didn't care.
I didn't stop there either. Next I loudly mimicked the midget in those old reruns of Fantasy Island with my rendition of, "Look boss, de plane...de plane," I said pointing up at the ceiling. We both cracked up over this skit but nobody else was laughing with us.
I quickly followed that up with some leprechaun pot of gold St. Patrick's Day comments. Again, Gary laughed at all my jokes encouraging me on.
Our laughter and my tormenting this guy was not going unnoticed and was not being received well at all. The midget guy just boldly glared at me not saying a word while the bartender just shook his head in disdain, looking discouragingly at us. Neither of us had barely touched our first drink when the bartender asked me to please knock it off, telling me I was being rude. Apparently the midget guy was a regular customer as he talked privately with the bartender while still glaring at me.
I nodded my head in a feigned compliance, but once the bartender walked away a bit, I started loudly humming the tune to the "Lucky Charm's Magically Delicious" cereal commercial with the Leprechauns in it.