His Trick, Her Treat

Brett was searching the internet for a good Halloween costume. Something easy and fun, and most of all, something he could put together with things he had around the house.

The Halloween tradition at UCSB, the University of California at Santa Barbara, was legendary. Costumes, coed, endless block parties, booze, weed, and sex. Last year, Brett was laid up with appendicitis, so this would be his first Halloween at college. Even better, Halloween fell on a Friday, which only intensified the party atmosphere.

The evening had three goals. One: drinking. Brett was 19, but the frats didn't bother checking IDs. Two: Fucking. That was the goal of every weekend, but Halloween was considered a lock as long as you had a costume. Which brought him to goal number three: a costume. He didn't have one.

His housemate Stephanie was going as a dead Uber driver. She refused to explain what it meant, which, she insisted, was the point. Since she was goth and already looked like a corpse most days, the costume mostly came down to a lanyard and a phone mount.

Greg was going as a sperm donor, a costume consisting of a bathrobe and a can of whipped cream covered with a pink sock with a hole in the tip. All you had to do was ask what he was supposed to be, and he would open his robe, expose the sock, bend the tip, and squirt out whipped cream. It was moronically simple, but he was either going to get laid or get his ass kicked by some frat boy who didn't get the joke.

"Okay, I've got it," Stephanie said. "Do your Julie Andrews voice."

Brett was good with voices and, for whatever reason, could do a very good Julie Andrews.

"Whatever for?" he said in Dame Julie's voice.

"We dress you as evil Mary Poppins. Chimney soot on your face, fangs, dressed in black, and you don't take care of children; you eat them," she said, growing more excited as she spoke.

"Yeah, no. That's too... that's not me."

"No, I guess not. How about Ken? Like the Ken doll? Just put on some gay clothes, part your hair, and you could still talk like Julie Andrews."

"Won't I just look like a gay guy?"

"Yeah, but a gay guy who likes to fuck girls. See, that's the twist. Halloween costumes always need a twist. Like, Mary Poppins is a nanny, but she eats kids. That's the twist."

"Can we move on from Mary Poppins?" he asked.

"Go as Barbie," Stephanie suggested. "It'll be such a great commentary on all the vacuous blond bimbos with big tits and no brains at this school."

"What's the twist?" he asked.

"You're a guy dressed as Barbie. That's the twist. A girl dressing like Barbie is no twist. But you have a dick, and Barbie has nothing. Also, I have a Barbie outfit, so it's that or nothing."

She opened her closet and pulled out a pink outfit that screamed Barbie.

"When have you ever worn that?" he asked his goth housemate.

"Never. I thrifted it to make a statement about Barbie. I was going to go as dead Barbie; see, that's a twist. Then I realized that a dead Uber driver is way more subversive. You can wear it if you want."

"So what'll I be? Trans Barbie?"

"Oh, that's good," she said. "There's our twist. Run with it and make it a comment on trans rights."

"I don't want to make a statement," Brett said.

"Then just go as Barbie. I've got the blond wig, the outfit should fit you, and you can borrow my bra and panties."

"I don't think I need women's underwear to dress as a woman."

"Oh, you do. If you think it's liberating to be a woman and be forced to strap your breasts down to appease the patriarchy, you'll see. Besides, you need the bra so I can give you big tits. Barbie has big tits."

"Okay. Bra, no panties," Brett said.

"It's a matching set," Stephanie said. "Okay, I'll do your makeup. Go shave, please. Smooth skin."

Brett took a shower, then stood before the mirror and shaved. Being extra careful, he smoothed his face and removed the hair from his chest.

"Shave your legs," Stephanie yelled from the other room.

"What? No."

"Shave them!" she demanded.

"No..." he replied.

"Okay, fine, then you'll have to wear pantyhose."

Twenty minutes later, Brett stood and looked at himself in the full-length mirror. He did not see himself. He saw a six-foot-tall blonde wearing a pink one-piece halter minidress with a sweetheart neckline that accentuated pronounced cleavage.

Stephanie's careful makeup had accentuated his cheekbones, sculpted his nose, and covered his pores so he looked...

"Amazing," Stephanie whispered.

"Holy shit," was all Brett could say.

She looked at her creation.

"I should have dressed as Dr. Frankenstein because I just" brought this to life," she said with pride. "Dude, you look so good. I mean, you look like a girl... a total hot girl."

Brett continued to stare at himself.

"I kinda do."

"Kinda? You are," she said. "Do you realize how powerful this is?"

"Powerful? Me dressed as a girl?"

"A smokin'-hot girl. A mean girl. This is your chance to get back at all the bros. Go out there, flaunt your ass. Talk dirty, then find a guy and jerk him off, only don't let him cum."

"Hey, whoa, stop. I'm not jerking off any guys. Seriously."

"Then at least give them your number. Only give them my number, and when they call me..."

"Okay, Steph, thank you for this. You're a true artist. It's amazing, but I'm not going out to avenge your dude issues."

"Oh, it's not just for me. It's for all the sisters out there. It's for all of us."

"But I'm not a sister. I'm not a woman. I feel your pain, but I'm just a guy dressed as a girl for Halloween, not looking to make a political statement, and definitely not looking to jerk off guys."

"If you'd let me finish, I was going to say, jerk them off, only don't let them finish. Blue-ball them."

"Okay, I'm going to leave now. Fuck, these pantyhose are not comfortable."

"Because you didn't shave your legs," she said.

Brett walked back to his room in the red heels, wobbling as he went and nearly breaking an ankle.

Greg came out of his room in his robe, flinched, then fired off a stream of whipped cream from his sock penis.

"Hey, I'm Greg. You lookin' for..."

Brett turned to face him, incredulous that he didn't recognize him.

"Greg."

"Yes?" Greg replied.

"It's me. Brett."

"Brett!" Greg said. "Oh, yes, I knew that. I did. Yeah, nice. Good costume. Good. This is a costume, right?"

"I'm Barbie," Brett replied.

"Yes, you are. A six-foot Barbie. And you... okay, wow, I, um, this is uncomfortable because I'm getting vibes from you."

"I am not giving you any vibes," Brett said as he walked to his room.

"Well, that ass sure is," Greg replied.

Brett slipped into his room and shut the door. He looked at himself and was impressed. He went to the mirror and, in his Julie Andrews voice, sang the opening of "My Favorite Things."

With her voice, his perfect makeup, and the outfit, he could see the confusion it would cause. Reaching down to fix the hose, he realized how uncomfortable they would be all night, so he sat on the bed and took them off.

How do women do this? he wondered. Then he decided to go all the way.

Heading to the bathroom, he lathered his legs and began to shave them. A competitive swimmer in high school, he'd shaved his legs before, but that was to move faster through the water, not to feel better in pantyhose.

Shaving up to his crotch, he groomed his pubic hair as always, then looked at himself and decided to wear the panties after all.

Pulling them on, he felt a strange rush of excitement that left him semi-hard. Holding up his dress to look at the bulge, he realized that while he might look like a woman everywhere else, not so much down there.

He tucked his cock and balls back between his legs, the way he used to as a kid to create something he liked to call "pussy crotch," and looked at himself. Now, with his skirt hiked, Stephanie's panties around his thighs, his pussy crotch exposed, and the rest of him looking like a stunning blonde...

"Wow," was all he could muster.

He opened his legs, let everything fall back into place, pulled up his panties, straightened his skirt, and looked again. In this outfit, the bulge was unnoticeable.

"Heading out," he yelled. "Dude, you coming?"

Greg came around the corner and fired off another shot of whipped cream.

"All night long," he said.

"Be careful with that. You know how long it took to get this makeup right?"

"Oh, man, you even sound like a girl when you whine like that. Do it in the Julie Andrews voice."

Brett repeated himself, only this time in his delicate, proper British Julie Andrews voice.

Greg stood at attention, mimicking a full erection.

"Please knock that off," Brett said.

The sun was setting as the two walked through Isla Vista. A six-foot-tall Barbie and a guy in a bathrobe, spewing cream from a sock penis, were hardly unique among the throng of Halloween revelers.

Greg used every opportunity to spray people with his cream.

"You keep that up," Brett scolded, "and you won't have anything left for later."

"As long as I keep walking behind your sweet ass, I'll be able to work up a batch."

"Dude," Brett said, "it was weird the first time. Now it's getting stranger."

"I'm just trying to make you feel like a real woman," his friend responded.

They turned the corner and walked into a wall of bass. The Kappa Gamma Rho house had given up trying to contain its party, and the whole thing had oozed out onto the front lawn.

A ping-pong table made from an unhinged front door hosted a beer pong tournament between two Top Gun pilots and a pair of hot dogs.

A couch sat in the middle of the yard as if it had always lived there, occupied by a sleeping Spider-Man and a girl in cat ears.

And everywhere, dozens of brothers in bedsheet togas wandered around with red Solo cups, looking very pleased with themselves, as if no one had ever dressed up as Animal House before.

"I'm getting a beer," Greg said. "You want something light? Spritzer? Cosmo?"

"Just get me a beer, asshole," Brett said.

Brett saw his friend Whitey, a member of the surf team. Yes, Santa Barbara has a surf team.

Whitey was dressed as... a surfer.

"Really original," Brett said to Whitey, who turned to see the gorgeous woman.

"Oh, hey," Whitey said, slightly drunk. "What's your name?"

Brett realized his friend had no idea who he was. Not even close. Time for Julie Andrews.

"Elizabeth..." he said simply.

"Ahh, that's my sister's name. I can't call you that 'cause it'll kill my boner. How about I call you Liz?"

Brett stopped using the voice and used his own.

"How about you call me Brett and don't ask for my number?"

Whitey did a double take.

"Dude, that's so fuckin' insane. That outfit is fire," he exclaimed. "I didn't know it was you."

"Yeah, Stephanie did my makeup, and--"

"Fuuuuck," was all Whitey could say. "Listen, if I can't get laid tonight, any chance you could just jack me off?" he said with a laugh.

Greg returned with several beers, handing one to Brett and another to Whitey.

"If you can't get laid in Isla Vista on Halloween, you have no dick," Greg said, looking around at the girls, all wearing the mandatory sexy-this-or-sexy-that costumes.

"Bro's right. This is the fuck night of all nights. I'm thinking of trying to bust a nut early, then changing into a different costume, finding a different girl, and busting another nut."

"So this is a costume?" Brett asked. "You didn't just come in from surfing?"

"Well, yes, I caught some great twilight swells tonight, but chicks dig surfers, so I'll wear this for now. I've got a tampon costume from last year for later."

"I'm not sure a tampon costume is going to get you laid," Brett said.

"Shows what you know about getting laid. All I had to say was, 'Let me in, baby. I'll stay for five to seven days,' and dude, I nutted three times last year. But you, Brett, you got a problem. You gotta tell the girls you're a dude, or they're just going to get all catty about the hot girl."

"Yeah," Greg added. "Hot girls don't like other hot girls when they're on the cock prowl."

Brett licked his lips and looked at the cup. He'd smeared his lipstick. Remembering Stephanie's instructions, he went into the house to find a bathroom. There was a line, so he waited.

"Hey, Barbie, you want me to bust your barbenheimer?" a guy dressed as a fireman asked.

"My what?" Brett said in his girl voice.

"Your Barbenheimer... in your pussy."

Brett stared blankly.

The guy panicked. "It's a sex joke."

"It is? Making a two-movie reference is a sex joke?" Brett asked, as sweetly as Julie Andrews could sound when talking to a stupid man.

"He has no idea what's in a woman's pussy," an incredibly sexy girl dressed as a slutty nurse said. "Trust me, I'm a slutty nurse."

The bathroom door opened, and a slutty butterfly walked out. The nurse took Brett by the hand and led him into the bathroom.

Brett smiled. He certainly wanted to get laid tonight, but he didn't realize it would happen so quickly. At this pace, he could easily do better than Whitey.

Inside the bathroom, the slutty nurse locked the door.

"That guy's a creeper. He's in my lit class. Let me pee, then you can go."

So this is what women do when they go to the bathroom together, Brett thought.

"Oh, I just came in to touch up my lipstick," he said in a panic as the slutty nurse lifted her tiny costume and pulled her thong down to pee.

Brett looked in the mirror so he wouldn't have to watch as he shakily reapplied his lipstick. However, the mirror showed him everything. He was torn between trying to paint his lips and watching a woman urinate.

"Fuck, I can't hold my beer," she said as the flow slowed. She let out a fart.

Brett froze. Guys did that all the time. Should he make a joke? Comment on it? What to do?

She got up, dabbed her pussy dry, and came to the sink. Brett's hands were shaking.

"Girl, you are messing up your lipstick, she said. "Here, let me."

She took the lipstick from Brett and looked at him, staring him in the face. At no time did she realize she was looking at a man. She gently applied the lipstick.

"You're so hot," she said. "If I were into pussy, I'd so want you."

She handed the lipstick back to Brett.

"You gotta pee?"

He did, but not now and not here.

She took his hand, and they left the bathroom and returned to the party. Someone grabbed his ass, and he turned to see who. It could have been anyone.

"You want to come with me to the Beta Omega house? They're kinda rapey over there, so I don't want to go alone."

Brett wondered at what point he should tell Slutty Nurse he was a guy. Perhaps never, given that she was using terms like "kinda rapey" and he'd just watched her pee.

At the Beta Omega house, past another lawn full of Animal House togas, the slutty nurse lived up to her title and disappeared with a senior wearing an FBI jacket that read FEMALE BODY INSPECTOR.

Brett was alone. His only lead to getting laid was upstairs. But he was far from actually being alone. Guy after guy would approach him with inane conversation that always referenced their penis size. Brett grimaced. Was this what he sounded like? Was he this much of a boor?

He was moving through the kitchen when he felt a hand slide up his skirt from behind and grab his ass. He turned around to see at least four guys drooling over him. Very rapey.

Time to go, he decided. He headed outside to call an Uber and head home. Time to lose Barbie for the night.

He started walking toward a street taco stand to get food when three guys dressed like... three guys who didn't have costumes came up behind him.

"Hey, sweetness, you got a tuna taco?"

Brett spun around. "Back off, motherfucker," he said in his real voice.

The three guys stared at him, confused. One of them pointed past Brett to the taco stand, where a heavyset woman in a hairnet was leaning out the window, waiting for their order.

"We were talking to her, dude."

"Tuna's extra," the taco lady said.

Brett walked on, mortified. Being objectified had put him on edge.

"Hey, Barbie," a woman's voice said, aggressively.

Brett turned around to see whether it was an attractive woman dressed as Ken, Barbie's semi-hetero boyfriend. But he wasn't sure. It could be a very effeminate man in the costume.

The outfit consisted of a baby-blue animal-print shirt, coordinating clam-digger pants, a stylish neckerchief, and slip-on loafers. The pants were tight, and Brett could see the outline of a well-placed rolled sock along the right leg.

"You proud of yourself?" Ken asked. "You think that just because it's Halloween, it's okay to internalize their misogyny and put on this little performance for the male gaze?"

Okay, Ken was a girl. The voice betrayed that much.

"Instead of Astronaut Barbie, you chose to dress like Barbie Barbie," Ken Girl said. "Really? That's the best you could do? A male fantasy doll."

Brett looked around. There was no way she was talking to him.

"I'll bet you don't even have a pussy under all that... pink," she said.

"I don't," Brett replied, and started to walk away.

"Don't you walk away from me. You have a responsibility to all women to tell the patriarchy: these tits aren't for you. This pussy only comes with my permission. Hands off."

Brett stopped, which was a mistake, because Ken Girl was just getting started.

"Do you even know what Barbie is? She's a knockoff of a German sex doll for old men. Sixty years of feminism, and you've dressed up as a novelty item for ex-Nazis."

"What are you talking about?" Brett said, backing away as Ken Girl got more irritated.

"I'm talking about the people who invented high heels. Men. That's who. Why? So women couldn't run away from them. That's it. That's the whole purpose. Every high heel is a tiny prison with a tiny pink bar on it. Every pair of heels ever sold is a hostage situation."

"Listen," Brett said, "I've been to two parties already. I've been groped. Guys have asked for my number, and the things they offered to do to me were disgusting. One guy followed me for a block to tell me he wasn't like other guys. Another asked if the carpet matched the drapes, and I'm not even sure what my drapes are. My hair? My eyebrows? I don't know how you ladies put up with it."

"Wait, you're a dude?" she said, unsure, and stepped closer to inspect him.

"What gave me away?" Brett asked, incredulous.

She narrowed her eyes and studied him for a long moment.

"No way you're a guy," she said, searching him for anything that gave away his true gender.

"Do I sound like a girl?"

"No, but... maybe it's all the Jägermeister I've had, but you're objectively gorgeous. I mean, a fucking knockout. And you're telling me you're a man?"

"Yeah," he replied. "So I'm sorry I'm not down with the whole sisterhood thing, but I just gotta get home and change."

"Why?" she asked.

"Well, I'm tired of getting my ass groped, for one."

Ken Girl admired his ass.

"Well, it is perfect," she said.

"Okay, Miss Feminist, aren't you objectifying me now? Isn't that against your core beliefs?"

"Well," she said, "now that I know you're a dude, it's okay."

"I'd love to sit here and argue semantics, but I've got to... these panties are riding high up my ass and..."

"You're wearing panties?" she asked.

"Yeah, I might have committed a little too hard to this costume. Panties might have been a bit much, but my roommate did the makeup; she insisted on authenticity."

"Thong or boy shorts?" she asked.

"Which one goes up your butt?" he asked.

"Thong."

"Yeah, that," he said, starting to walk away.

"Hey, Barbie, you want to go to a party?" Ken Girl asked.

Brett turned to look at her.

"You just finished ripping me apart," he said. "Now you want me to join you at a party?"

"Sorry about the verbal throw-up," she said. "I've just had the worst night. I got dumped, and I'm pissed because we worked on this couples costume for so long. I wanted to be Barbie, but I settled for Ken. Then I saw you walking around, and I'm like, holy shit, she's gorgeous, and that pissed me off for no reason at all. And now I find out you're a dude, and you're the hottest girl I've ever seen, and... look, you want to go to a party or not?"

"With you?"

"Yeah," she said, a little excited. "As Barbie and Ken!"

"What's the twist?" he asked. "My roommate thinks all Halloween costumes need a twist."

"Oh, a twist," she said, thinking on it. "You gay?"

"No, I'm not gay. Do I look gay?" He looked down at himself. "Don't answer that."

"Well, I'm gay," she said. "Total ditch-licking lesbian, so there's your twist. Binary-confused, cross-dressed Barbie and not-into-guys Ken. We're making a statement about labels, trans, and hetero... fuck it, we're just Barbie and Ken; can we just enjoy that? No twist."

Brett looked at Ken Girl. She was very cute, probably incredibly pretty if she wasn't wearing awkward 1980s clothing. She had short hair, worn parted, at least tonight, to promote the Ken look. Her features were feminine, but dressed as she was, she could pass for a guy.

"So do you want to go to a party? It's a lesbian thing, and you're going to get a lot of phone numbers from girls who will never want to date you once they realize you've got a dick."

Brett contemplated.

"Come on, it'll be fun," she insisted.

Tonight was a bust, so why not try something that could make a fun story?

"Sure, why not," he said.

"Great," she said, and they started walking. "Just nod so you don't have to speak, and they won't know you're a guy."

"Does it matter?" he replied.

"You've never been to a lesbian party, have you?"

"No, I don't get invited to many."

"Well, stay near me, and you'll be safe."

They turned the corner, walking past yet another frat party spilling onto the front lawn.

Several drunk guys dressed in the now-standard togas looked at Ken and Barbie as they passed by.

"Oh, shit," one of the frat boys declared. "Check out the ass on Barbie. Hey, you want to come to the party?"

Ken Girl looked at them, then turned to Brett.

"Look, baby," she said in a voice deeper than her own, "they dressed like rapists."

The frat guys took offense.

"We're dressed like the guys from Animal House. Shows what you know. You know what? Fuck you, gay boy. Hey, Barbie," he said, looking at Brett. "Want some big dick? Come over here."

"Let's see it," Ken Girl said confrontationally. "Show us that biiiig dick, bro."

The frat bro was surprised to be challenged by such a slight young man and turned back to his buddies. Ken Girl refused to just move on.

"Show me that big dick," she repeated.

The irritated frat boy turned back to Ken Girl and Brett.

"I didn't mean anything by that. Just having fun," he said. "Fuck off."

"Sure you did, bro," Ken Girl said. "Or you wouldn't have said it. You said you had a big dick. So let's see it."

The frat bro looked at his friend and laughed. Okay, if this little dude with the hot girlfriend wanted to get into it, he was down for the challenge.

"Fine. I'll show you some man meat, and I guarantee your girl stays here," he said with confidence.

"Come on," Brett whispered to her, trying to get her away.

"No, baby," Ken Girl said, "he says you're a big-dick junkie."

Ken Girl looked at the frat bro. "She is a big-dick junkie, by the way."

Brett was really uncomfortable and gestured for Ken Girl to go.

"Tell you what, bro," Ken Girl said. "You show me yours, I show you mine; the biggest dick gets the girl. Deal?"

The frat boys all laughed.

"You okay with this, Barbie?" one of the frat guys asked.

"She does what I tell her," Ken Girl said. "We doing this?"

"Biggest cock gets the girl," the frat guy restated.

"Them's the terms," Ken Girl said.

"Hey, Meat, show my new girlfriend your cock," the frat bro said, running over to bring one of the toga-wearing brothers into the conversation. Ken Girl didn't flinch.

Brett was even more uncomfortable now. A penis-size competition to claim ownership of him? This night was getting too strange.

The frat bro smiled as if he'd pulled an ace from his sleeve.

"You didn't say which cock."

Ken Girl's eyes stayed locked on him.

The one called Meat walked over and lifted his toga to show he wasn't wearing underwear, revealing a large penis.

Ken Girl nodded.

"Now that's a big cock," she said to the frat bro. "Well played. Hey, babe," she said to Brett. "Guess this is where I leave you..."

Brett was making a what-the-fuck face.

The frat bros all high-fived.

"Unless," she said, "you want to come with me and enjoy this."

Ken Girl unzipped her pants, pulled out a very large, thick cock that was at least eight inches long, and held it there for all to see. It was thick and large and easily the bigger of the two.

Brett did a double take as confusion spiraled.

Ken Girl tucked the cock back into her pants, took Brett by the hand, and gave him a deep, passionate kiss. Another surprise.

"Come on, baby," Ken Girl said, "let's leave these boys to play with his meat."

She led a confused Brett away from the amazed frat boys.

Brett looked at the person holding his hand as they walked and panicked.

"I thought you were a girl," he said.

"I thought you were a girl at first too," she replied.

Brett gave Ken Girl a look, still unsure who or what he had just kissed.

"So remember how you said you're wearing panties to feel authentic?" she said. "Well, I'm wearing a nine-inch lifelike, veiny silicone strap-on to feel authentic, too. Relax, I'm a girl; you didn't kiss a guy."

"Oh," Brett said, smiling.

"Yeah, but I am a total lesbian, so don't get any ideas," she continued.

Brett looked at Ken Girl in amazement.

"My name's Brett," he said as they walked hand in hand.

"Mandy," she replied. "Like the song. But tonight, just call me Ken. Is that cool with you, Barbie?"

"Sure, Ken," he said. "You a student here?"

"Yeah, junior year," she said. "Praying for the day I can get out of here."

Brett smiled. His boring night had just turned entertaining, and he was about to walk into a lesbian party with an out-of-control lesbian date dressed like a dude.

They came upon the Eta Pi house, known up and down Del Playa as the Lesbian Hilton. Eta Pi wasn't a real sorority. It wasn't part of the school's Greek system because the women who lived there hated the fraternities' sexist, keg-stand-and-date-rape attitude and the sororities' Lilly Pulitzer obedience equally. The house was owned by an alum who rented rooms only to lesbians, and the residents called themselves a sorority purely out of spite. Even the name was a middle finger to the frat houses on either side.

Mandy took Brett by the hand and led him into the big room. It was filled with women, all in Halloween costumes.

"Ken with the big dick is in the house," Ken Girl shouted, pulling Brett, who stumbled into the costumed crowd. Lights, music, and a lot of alcohol were flowing. He looked around and spotted Sandy and Danny from Grease: one girl in a leather jacket, her hair greased into a pompadour, beside another in black spandex, each flirting with the other. Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn made out on the dance floor to a slow dance despite the disco beat.

He saw a woman wearing a thick light-brown turtleneck sweater, thick glasses, and a skirt.

"Is she Velma from Scooby-Doo?" he asked Mandy.

No sooner had he wondered whether her date was Shaggy or Fred than a very attractive girl, dressed in a purple one-piece minidress and a neckerchief, approached Velma with a drink, and they shared a deep kiss.

"And there's her Daphne," Mandy said.

"It's a couples' party," Brett realized. "You invited me because you needed a Barbie to be your Ken."

"To be fair, I was about to invite you when I still thought you were a woman."

Brett thought about it.

"But that was more because I wanted to fuck you," she said with a laugh.

A woman named Beckie, dressed like a witch, came over.

"Oh, Mandy, we heard about you and Priscilla," Beckie said.

"Priscilla?" Mandy said, pretending she didn't know the name. "This is my new girlfriend, Britt," she said, pulling Brett in close and holding him suggestively.

"Delighted," Brett said in his Julie Andrews voice. "Simply delighted."

"Britt is English?" Beckie said in amazement. "That's the sexiest accent."

Mandy looked at Brett, dumbfounded.

"We prefer British," Brett said, nailing Julie Andrews' elegance.

"Yeah..." an astounded Mandy said, "that's why I call her Britt; her name is actually..."

"Mabel," Brett said. "But it sounds so much like the wife of a boarding school headmaster that I love it when she calls me Britt. So what the heck, call me Britt."

Beckie was clearly swept away by Brett, Britt, or Mabel. It was Mandy's turn to be confused. A very sexy woman dressed as a cat walked by and put her arms around Beckie.

"This is Shelly," Beckie said. "She's my pussy."

Brett did an almost comical double take at the statement.

"You know, witch and black cat... she's my pussy," Beckie said again, enjoying the sexual double entendre.

Mandy pulled Brett away before he could ask more questions.

"So you can sound exactly like Mary Poppins?" Mandy said. "You're full of secrets."

"Should I stop?" Brett asked, slightly panicked.

"By all means, no. This is going to be so fun," Mandy said. "But if you start singing supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, I'm going to get the biggest lady boner you've ever seen."

Music played, and several of the girls danced while others sat on couches, some cuddled close.

Mandy led Brett around, introducing him/her to the sisters, then took him to the dance floor as the '70s disco blared.

"Can you dance like a woman?" she asked.

"Exactly how does a woman dance?" he asked.

"Better than most men because we have an agenda. Pretend you're trying to get the attention of all the ladies in this room, then take that vibe and let it move your body. Each move should reek of sex."

Most of the women were already watching Mandy and Brett, so he felt even more self-conscious. As "Boogie Fever" played, they started dancing. Brett stood up straight and was out of his comfort zone.

"Kick off the heels," Mandy suggested.

Brett was happy to lose the heels and danced a little better, but not convincingly.

"Pretend I'm you and you're me," she said. "Now dance like you think I would if I were trying to get you to fuck me."

"Are you?" he asked.

"No, total lesbian. I thought we established that."

"We did, but I'm the most confused guy in here," he said.

"You're the only guy in here."

"Also part of my confusion," he added.

Mandy put her forefinger to his lips to shush him.

"I'm having a lot of fun with you," she said, "so at least pretend like I want to fuck you."

That wasn't a difficult task. Watching the attractive girl with an overwhelming personality, he could see how easy it might be to fall for her... and how futile it would be.

Mandy had some good disco moves, and Brett decided to copy her moves. Mandy smiled.

"Good. Now shake that tight little Barbie ass at me, like you want me to just take a bite out of it like a dirty apple."

"I think you're objectifying me again," he said, laughing.

"You're fuckin' right I am," she said as she danced to the beat, grinding up against his ass.

Brett was getting into his girl groove when Avery, a pretty brunette wearing oversized glasses, came over and whispered in Mandy's ear.

Mandy stopped dancing and looked around. Brett stopped as well.

"Problem?"

"My ex. She just showed up," Mandy said.

"Okay, maybe you should speak with her," Brett said. "Maybe she wants you back."

Mandy pulled Brett in close.

"Mind if I kiss you again?" Mandy asked.

"Umm, no? I mean, maybe? Why?"

"To make her jealous," Mandy said.

"Oh, that feels kind of mean," he said. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'd love to kiss you, but I'm not--"

That was all the permission Mandy needed, and she pulled Brett in for a kiss as the girls watched. It was deep and passionate, and Brett found himself lost in it.

But it was also different because he was on the receiving end. She was kissing him, taking the male lead. It was strange... but a kiss is still a kiss, and he went with it.

When the kiss broke, Brett found himself looking at another Barbie standing a few feet away. She was cute, smaller than he was, and waiting patiently for the Ken-and-Barbie kiss to end.

"Oh, Priscilla, you're back. I didn't see you there," Mandy said as she held Brett's hand. "This is Britt; she's... my Barbie."

Brett felt awkward.

"Mandy, can we talk?" Priscilla asked.

"Oh, I don't think so; it's a Halloween party," Mandy said. "I was about to take Britt here to my room. Perhaps tomorrow?"

Brett turned to Mandy.

"Mandy dear," he said in his perfect Julie Andrews voice, "you and your Priscilla should talk. I'm going to go tinkle and give you space."

Mandy laughed at the word "tinkle."

"Isn't she cute?" she said to Priscilla.

Brett walked away, found the bathroom, and locked himself in. He stood over the toilet and did the manliest thing he'd done all day: peed standing up.

When he came out of the bathroom, he saw Mandy and Priscilla deep in conversation.

A muscular girl dressed like candy corn approached Britt and introduced herself as Candy.

"Candy. Your name is Candy," Brett said, "and you're dressed like candy."

"Yeah, wanna taste me?"

"Excuse me?" Brett said, almost losing the Julie Andrews voice.

"Well, I've been watching, and now that Priscilla's back, I figure you and Mandy are through. So, wanna taste my candy?"

"Oh, wow, yeah, I'd like to, but I'm... I'm devastated about the whole Priscilla thing. I was only Mandy's Barbie for a few hours, and... I should leave."

Brett managed to escape the overly aggressive candy corn and decided he'd had enough entertainment for tonight. As far as Halloweens go, this one was memorable, and he still needed to get the thong out of his ass.

Picking up his heels, he started to leave.

"Hey, where you going?"

Brett looked over and saw Mandy had followed him out of the party.

"I'm heading home. That was fun, and those girls are great, but I kind of feel bad leading them on."

"It's fine; they know you're mine, so it's not like they really thought they had a chance."

"I'm yours? A hetero guy in drag is yours?"

"A girl can dream, right?" she said.

"How are things with Priscilla?"

"Oh, she's gone again. She just came to pick up some stuff from my room. Turns out she's a LUG."

"A LUG?"

"Lesbian until graduation. She's graduating in December, and it's time for her to start sucking dicks again, I guess. I should have given her your number."

Brett laughed.

"Turns out I only fall for real lesbians," he said.

She gave him a cute smile.

"You wanna get high? I've got some killer kush in my room, and I hate getting stoned by myself."

Brett considered the offer.

"Um, sure, but can I get out of this Barbie thing up there? My feet are killing me, and this bra is killing me."

"Oh, God, I'm so afraid to see the guy who's underneath all this," she said.

"Well, at least let me take off my heels," he replied.

"Deal."

Twenty minutes later, Brett and Mandy were side by side on her bed, passing the last of a joint between them. Between the alcohol and the kush, they were feeling the effects.

"I heard you and Priscilla arguing about someone named Dave. I thought you weren't into guys?"

"Dave is Priscilla's big rubber cock," she said.

"You both have a huge rubber cock?" he asked. "I'm learning so much about lesbians."

Mandy stood, unzipped her pants, and pulled out the huge rubber penis she wore beneath them. In the dim light, it looked real.

"This is Dave. She wanted it back, but I've grown fond of Dave."

"God, it looks so real."

"Feels real too, especially inside me," she said. "Go ahead, touch it."

Brett reached out and tentatively touched the silicone phallus. He placed his hand on it and felt its artificial surface. It was strange to touch a cock, even if it was fake.

"When I wear it, I swear it gives me big-dick energy. Since Priscilla's going back to flesh-and-blood cocks, she doesn't need Dave."

She held the penis in one hand, pointing it at Brett.

"So lesbians like penises?" he asked.

"We like big things we can stick in our pussies. A penis seems built for that, so yes and no. Yes, I like the feel of a penis in me; no, I don't like a penis attached to a man."

"I'm so confused right now," Brett said. "You're totally fun. You're smoking hot to look at, even dressed like Ken. If I didn't already know how this would turn out, I swear I'd try to kiss you."

"How do you think it would turn out?" she asked.

"Well, you've made it abundantly clear that I'm not your type, and I respect that."

"Yeah, Brett, you're probably right. But Barbie, she's exactly my type."

Now Brett was very confused.

"Barbie the doll? Barbie the movie character? They're not gay."

Mandy moved in close to Brett, inches from his face.

"But you could be, just for tonight," she said, leaning in the way a man does when he's making that slow, unsure first move to kiss a girl, hoping and praying she'll be receptive to his advance.

Her lips met Brett's, and she immediately wrapped her arms around him as they began to kiss open-mouthed, deep and passionate.

Brett already knew this was a very fucked-up situation. An adamant, attractive lesbian dressed as a man was kissing an adamant heterosexual man dressed as a woman.

He wanted to pause and clarify the situation, but Mandy was moving her body on top of his, taking the lead as their kissing intensified. She pushed Brett back and lay atop him, now kissing deeper and harder. He could feel her silicone penis pressing against him.

She sat up slightly and unbuttoned her powder-blue shirt, revealing a strapless bra that held her breasts down.

"What exactly are we doing?" he asked.

Her shirt off, she unsnapped the bra that had flattened her chest, freeing her breasts.

They were real, soft, heavier than the binding had allowed, settling under their own weight in the dim light, the nipples long and a warm brown. A small dark mark on the left one. She teased them with her fingers, and they shifted, ordinary and inviting, the kind of body that didn't need a costume to be admired.

The short hair was still the cut she preferred, stylish and close, not a costume. Without the bra, she stopped being Ken, at least from the collarbone down.

"Do you like my tits, Barbie?" she asked.

"Delightful," Brett replied in his Julie Andrews voice, breathing hard.

"Would you like to touch them? Taste them, Barbie?"

Brett looked at the adorable woman's bare breasts. The rest of her was still half Ken, and good old Dave was jutting from the open pants, but the chest was hers, and it was perfect. He was more confused than ever.

"I'm so--"

Mandy moved in and kissed him, just to stop him from wrecking the moment.

"You're so Barbie-like, and more than anything, I want to be with her tonight."

There it was. The rules were set. If Brett wanted to have sex, exactly what kind he wasn't sure about, he'd have to keep cosplaying as Barbie.

It wasn't a difficult decision, and he nodded.

She gently lowered herself, pushing her left breast into Brett's mouth, allowing him to suckle her nipple, and then pushed her other breast into his mouth.

She moaned with pleasure. Up close, her breasts were warm, her skin faintly freckled, and she smelled feminine.

She could feel Brett's erection beneath his pink dress, but did nothing to ease the situation. For his part, he was savoring the scent of her skin and the taste of her flesh as he circled each nipple with his tongue.

Mandy began to grind against him with her hips, and he could feel the nine inches of Dave pressing his own erection again, dominating it.

Mandy's breasts were always sensitive, and she reacted with each lick and suck from Barbie, but the orgasm she needed tonight wasn't going to come from nipple stimulation, and it wasn't going to come from Dave's penetration; she needed Barbie to taste her wet pussy and tease her swollen clit into submission.

Brett had already decided that Mandy would have to lead. He'd willingly do whatever she wanted, knowing the likelihood that fucking her wasn't on tonight's menu.

She got up from him and stood, looking so good in the dim light, shirt gone, breasts bare, Dave still strapped on like an afterthought she hadn't bothered to remove.

The contrast was intriguing. Real chest, fake cock, and boyish hair.

"I gotta pee so bad," she said, then scampered to the en suite bathroom. He wondered if she intended to pee standing up, so he sat up to watch, but she shut the door.

Seeing a momentary opportunity to learn, he grabbed his phone and asked Chat, "How does a guy fuck a lesbian?"

Great question! It's important to note that lesbians are women who are attracted to women, so the premise may stem from a misunderstanding. That said, every journey is unique! Respect her identity, ensure consent is enthusiastic and ongoing, and communicate openly. The best way to know what someone wants is to ask them. Would you like some respectful conversation starters?

Brett stared at the screen. He was wearing a pink dress, a thong, and someone else's eyeliner, while a chatbot was offering him lesbian conversation starters.

The toilet flushed. He shoved the phone under a pillow.

When the door opened, Mandy came out. She was fully nude, wearing Dave around her waist and holding it out as if he were expected to service the huge sex toy.

Brett sat up, unsure what would happen. Her breasts were still bare above it, and the rest of her was bare around it.

"The look on your face," she said as she pulled down the straps and removed the silicone cock like underwear. "Priceless."

Brett smiled. What was left was her. Naked in the dim light, she was petite and real, standing barefoot in the doorway of her room, her short hair now intentionally ruffled.

Her nipples were full and natural, still long from his mouth. Her waist narrowed, then softened, and her stomach was unposed, the navel a small crease, a tattoo low on the ribs.

Her hips were wider than Ken's pants had indicated, her thighs smooth. Between them, her pussy was neatly groomed, the lips full and a deeper rose already swollen in anticipation. Despite not wearing the strap-on, she still possessed that big dick energy.

She wanted the woman lying on her bed, wearing a pink dress and a blond wig.

"I'm in uncharted waters here," he said, looking at her body.

"You like eating pussy?" she asked as she approached him.

Brett nodded.

"Well, my pussy works pretty much the same way as any other pussy."

"Pretty much?" he asked.

"Mine tastes better. You'll see."

With that, she crawled back on the bed next to him, pulling him atop her. His hard cock under the thong and pink dress pressed against her pussy, begging to be set free.

They resumed kissing, deep and passionate, until she began to push his head down, indicating her desire for him to go down.

How many times had he given a girl the head nudge, signaling his desire for a blowjob? Now he knew what it felt like not be in control. He didn't dislike it; he was just paranoid about messing up.

Returning to her breasts, he kissed and suckled her nipples, marveling that her breasts had been so well hidden when she was Ken. He lingered on her left nipple, noticing that his licks on the underside made her shake slightly.

Mandy gently caressed Barbie's long golden hair, enjoying the attention her nipples were receiving, but the swelling of her labia was almost becoming an itch, so she pushed Brett lower.

Brett moved down her torso, kissing and licking along the way. When he reached her belly, his excitement grew.

With slow kisses, he moved downward. The alluring smell of her pussy called to him like a siren. Her excitement and being tasted had created a puddle of wetness, and as her vagina came into view, he positioned himself between her legs and marveled at the sight.

Her labia were extended, making the opening of her vagina look like a blossoming flower. She brought her fingers down to meet his face, swirling them in the glistening pool of wetness, then brought them to his mouth for a taste. She tasted of herbs and clean linen.

Moving his face in, he planted his mouth between her legs, pressing against her pubic bone, determined to show her how well he could eat her out.

Mandy opened her legs wide; she wanted Barbie to taste her deep and offered clear access to her wide pussy.

"Oh, baby, that's so good," she moaned, urging Brett forward.

Brett continued to explore her moistness with his tongue.

"Use your fingers, baby. Use them," she urged, and Brett responded by bringing his two longest fingers together and sliding them in deep as he licked over the hard line of her clit.

The intrusion of the fingers heightened her pleasure as she let out a gentle moan, which was accompanied by a glistening gush of fluid. Not a lot, but enough to keep his fingers moist and add a new flavor to her pussy.

His fingers, her moisture, and his mouth produced the sounds of wetness, the kind only sexual energy can create.

Brett increased the area of his licking, circling her vulva, then probing in deep with his tongue. His fingers were deep inside, pressed against the spongy underside of her pubic bone.

"You're so good at this, baby," she cooed.

His tongue lapped at the part of her pussy moving dangerously close to her shuttered anus.

Brett knew at least two girls who liked anal, but he wasn't sure he should even attempt to move his tongue in that direction.

Mandy pulled her legs back as she fondled her breasts; the combination of Brett dressed in her cosplay fantasy, his educated tongue, and her desire to cum was about to culminate in a wild orgasm.

She moved her legs even wider, pumping her hips into Brett's face, creating friction against her clit. When she shifted upward, her ass would rise, and the puckered circle of her asshole would rise into view, almost begging to be tasted, then disappear as she shifted down.

The next time she moved her hips, Brett took a chance and circled her pouty asshole with his tongue.

Down her hips went, and he was back in her pussy, but she thrust upward again, this time staying in that awkward position to let Brett tease her dark entry.

That was it. She was cumming, and her body froze; Brett secured her pussy lips in his mouth as she let out a long and plaintive moan.

He could see her anus puckering wildly and feel her pussy contracting. He felt a gentle trickle of fluid release from within her as she grasped Brett's blond wig and held on, bringing her legs together around his head as she orgasmed.

"Oh, fuck, Barbie. Oh, please..."

Finally, it was done.

Mandy lay on the bed, panting, gasping for air after reeling from the pleasure.

Brett slowly climbed back up her body, bringing his wet face to hers and rejoining her in a kiss. She held his face, licking the wetness her pussy had left on his lips.

Finally, she collapsed back and lay there holding Brett.

"I swear if you didn't have a cock, I'd ask you to marry me right now," she said.

Brett smiled.

"Turns out you were right; a lesbian pussy is pretty much a regular pussy, but yeah, you taste amazing."

"I know," she said, proud. "Right?"

They lay in bed quietly.

"I have to admit," he said, "I didn't see tonight ending like this."

"You weren't out to get laid?" she asked.

"Sure, I mean, Halloween around here is pretty much a fuck fest, but this? And by this, I'm not even sure what this even is."

"Yeah, getting my pussy serviced by a dude wasn't on my bingo card," she said. "But fuck, your tongue could make me consider leaving this lifestyle."

Brett perked up.

"Really?"

"No. It was a great orgasm, easily my best, but I'm still a ditch licker," she said firmly.

She looked over at him, now on his back, his Barbie skirt hiked and his erection straining the little fabric of his panties.

"So, listen, I know you've got a load that you need to blow," she said. "You want my help?"

"Help how?" he asked.

"Well, you're not fucking me," she said. "I just... can't. Nothing personal, but my Barbie thing doesn't include chicks with dicks, which are really just guys with tits."

"That's cool," he said. "I respect that."

"Respect," she said with a smile. "You sure you're a guy?"

She put her hand on his crotch, which was rock hard.

"Damn, that thing's about to blow," she commented. "Look, I don't mind jerking you off if that's what you need."

"Well, you don't sound too enthusiastic about that," he said. "No big deal. I can do it at home."

"What if I left you with the most incredible orgasm of your life?" she asked, sitting up on one arm, her breast on his chest.

Brett could only imagine what that might be. Perhaps she meant to call in some of the girls. That Velma and Daphne were hot. Three lesbians? Yes, please.

"I haven't said no to anything so far tonight," he said.

"Well, you might do this," she said as she got out of bed. She walked to the bathroom and sat down to pee, not closing the door this time.

"Now I'd like you to keep an open mind," she said, getting up from the toilet and grabbing a container from the counter. She threw it to Brett, who examined the bottle. Rose-flavored lube.

"Lube?" he questioned, then realized. She was going to offer him anal sex. Sure, vaginal was too intimate. Too much against her core beliefs. But anal sex, that was just sex. He smiled, knowing he'd get to unload deep inside her.

She paused on the way back from the bathroom and reached down to pull Dave, the lifelike strap-on phallus, up and onto her body like underwear.

"What's that for?" Brett asked.

"Well, to fuck you with," she said flatly, unaware he was unaware.

"Fuck me? With that? How?" he said, but by the time he got to the word "how," he already knew.

"Oh, no. You're not sticking that thing in my ass. No, not going to happen."

"Don't think of it as your ass," she said. "It's your bussy."

"My bussy?" he asked.

"Boy pussy. Every guy has one."

"Mandy," he said, rising to leave, "this has been... so... different, but I can't. I'm not gay."

"You do know I'm not a dude, right?" she responded. "Me pegging you isn't gay."

"Well, it sounds gay, it looks gay, it's a big--"

"Has a woman ever stuck her finger up your ass, maybe during a blowjob or something?" she asked.

Brett nodded his head yes, uncomfortable to make this confession.

"Yes, that's happened."

"And did it feel good?" she asked.

"Yes... I mean, it was different, but yes."

"Well, this will feel different," she said, "but so, so good."

She came over to Brett, who was sitting up on the bed, and sat next to him. She began to kiss his neck gently, nibbling at it.

"Come on, baby, I promise you'll love it. I'll be so gentle."

Brett could feel the strange dynamic happening as she was nudging him, urging him to have sex, wearing a huge rubber cock, and gently kissing him as she promised to be gentle.

"Why would you want to do that anyway?" he asked.

"It's my ultimate fantasy," she said. "But until now, I've never met someone as trusting as you."

"But it sounds so emasculating."

"You've been wearing a dress, panties, and a bra the whole night. You went down on me, wig and all, and now you're worried about emasculation?"

Brett had to laugh at the irony of his concern.

"I've never met a man so confident in his sexuality," Mandy said.

"Really?"

"Do you know how many men I've let go down on me?"

"I don't know. Five? How would I know?"

"One. You. That was the first male mouth to ever taste me. Why? Because I trust you. Now it's time to trust me. Let me be your first. It'll feel great."

"I was your first?" he asked.

She nodded.

"It's almost like you took my oral virginity."

"Hasn't a woman gone down on you?"

"Stay with me on this, Brett. This is about you... and your virginity."

Mandy felt her pussy watering under the strap of the harness. The idea of making love to Barbie consumed her.

Brett was tempted, not so much by the sex toy as by the chance to further explore sex with Mandy.

"You know what, it's not fair to pressure you. Just come here," she said, lying back against the pillows and the headboard.

She pulled Brett back against her as they continued to reverse roles. Despite her complete nudity and the silicone dick, Brett remained fully clothed in his Barbie clothes as he lay against her.

He lay back as she kissed and stroked his ear. Her hand gently glided over his fake breasts, then down the cloth covering his stomach to his thigh.

Brett kept his legs open and hiked up his skirt to reveal his erection, shrouded in the gusset of his pink thong, the tip peeking past the cloth.

Finally, he thought she'd at least give him a handjob and he could get some relief, but her hand moved down to his inner thigh as she gently massaged him.

"How badly do you want to cum?" she whispered between licks at his ear.

"Please," he replied.

Her hand again moved to his inner thigh, but avoided his cock as her hand moved below his balls, pressing on the scant fabric covering his tight puckernut.

"Not too deep inside you, there's a spot. The prostate. If I touch it, I can make you cum in quarts."

She kissed his ears again.

Her fingers pressed on his tight hole again.

"Don't you want to cum like that? In quarts? Don't you want me to make you cum like that?"

Brett's defenses were weakening. His hard-on had fully escaped the thong and was pressing against his thigh, but she made no move to give it any attention. A few strokes would probably be enough, but she had a different plan.

"I'll start with just a finger, then two, and by the time Dave is in there..."

"Wait, wait, do we have to call it Dave? I mean, really?"

"No, of course not. Let's call it... my glock."

"Like a gun?" he said, getting less into the idea.

"I was thinking girl cock, but yeah, no glock, let's call it my milky."

"Milky?" he asked.

"Because I intend to milk your cum gently, with long passionate thrusts that send waves of pleasure through your body. So deep and passionate, you'll be on the edge of tears. I want to fuck you as lovers do."

Brett leaned back into Mandy as she continued to seduce him.

This didn't sound so bad. She resumed kissing his neck and ear, then brought her mouth to his. Her kisses were incredible, and he wondered what it would be like to kiss her every day.

That daydream retreated when she pressed her finger against his tight knot and was able to gently push inside.

Brett let out a small moan of shocked pleasure, which she swallowed like nourishment.

"There it is, baby, there it is; just let me milk you. Give me that gift. Let me please you."

Brett's cock was visibly throbbing, a sight not lost on Mandy as she watched it from over his shoulder.

"Okay," he whispered, "but you need to be gentle."

"Of course I'll be; I want this to be perfect. Like lovers do."

Brett reached for the halter tie to disrobe, but she stopped him.

"No, I need my Barbie girl for this one," Mandy whispered.

"So how do we do this?" he asked.

A few minutes later, Brett was on the bed on all fours. Mandy was behind him, wearing Milky as she stroked it with lube.

Brett had his skirt hiked up over his ass; his panties were pulled down, revealing his ass as Mandy sat next to him, gently stroking his behind as she slathered some lube in preparation.

Despite not disrobing, Brett's cock hung free from the thong. It was erect, but swinging wildly as he remained in the submissive position. It waited there, begging for attention, and yet Mandy hadn't touched it.

She took her milky and rubbed it down the crack of his ass over his knotted hole, but not in. The ample amounts of lube glistened.

Mandy applied more to his ass and more to her silicone cock, then rubbed it against his pucker.

"You like that, baby?" she asked.

"It feels good," he said, anticipating the pain to come.

He reached back to grasp his cock and masturbate, but she gently pulled his hand away.

"No, baby, no hands, just my milky and your bussy. Let me make you cum."

Mandy had used Dave plenty of times on Priscilla. Perhaps that should have been a clue that she wasn't really committed to the lifestyle. Priscilla insisted on getting fucked with Dave.

Of course, when she used Dave on Mandy, it was often in the missionary position. But if she rolled Barbie on her back, that raging hard-on and that scrotum full of cum would shatter the illusion of love she desired in this moment.

After running Milky's blunt tip over the tight seal of Barbie's ass, she gave a gentle push forward.

Brett felt the pressure and gasped, but it was nothing. His sphincter was sealed, and despite her fingers having worked the muscles, this might not happen.

She pushed again, harder. Holding the cock to keep it firm, she tried a third time, which caused his sphincter to dilate, and she was in, a cock tip's length. She paused.

"You okay down there?" she asked.

"Uh-huh," he replied.

She eased forward, and he felt some pain. This was the second sphincter, the one deeper in his anus. But Mandy pressed on, and in a breath she was through.

As her milky moved into Brett's bussy, he felt the pain recede and the pleasure begin.

"Milky's in you now," she cooed as she gently pushed onward.

They had changed the name of the phallus, but he was still dressed as a woman, on all fours, his panties around his thighs, as a woman fucked his ass.

And somehow, he was fine with it. As she promised, it didn't feel gay. More than anything, he wanted the woman behind him, penetrating him. That certainly wasn't gay.

He'd gotten intense pleasure from going down on her and bringing her to orgasm; that wasn't gay.

"This feels good, right, baby?" she said.

"It... does," he replied.

"Just wait, it's going to get even better."

She pushed her milky in further; it slid across his prostate, creating an instant rush of pleasure.

"Take it all in, baby, take my milky in deep."

Brett grasped the bedsheets as he felt an orgasm building as if from nowhere.

"I... think I'm going to cum," he said between grunts and moans.

"Can you hold on a little," Mandy asked, "so we can cum together?"

She gently withdrew half the cock, extruding globs of lube. The feeling of the long phallus sliding out was equally pleasurable, but it also left a void.

"Talk to me, baby," she said. "Make me cum with you."

Brett didn't really feel he was in any position to help her cum, as he remained on all fours, with her behind him thrusting her hips to manipulate her milky.

Mandy put one leg up to get a better position.

"I'm going to go deeper," she whispered. "You'll like that," she promised.

Brett had imagined this would be some kind of dominatrix femdom act of violence against him. A hardcore lesbian, taking out her aggression toward all men, with an act of violence against his ass.

But this was not that. Mandy was doing as she promised, gently making love to him, slowly moving her milky deeper into his body.

He wasn't sure what she knew about the male anatomy, but she seemed to know where to give him the most pleasure.

"I want to give you the best orgasm of your life, baby," she said.

He was happy she kept saying "baby" instead of "Barbie"... or was she saying "Barbie" and he was hearing "baby"? That was one of the few least confusing issues in the past few hours.

With her leg up, she had a better angle but held off on pushing in deeper.

"It's okay," he said with a groan. "Go in deeper, please."

Mandy looked down at Barbie, on all fours, then at her silicone cock stretching that perfect ass.

"Put your shoulders down, face down," she instructed. "I can get Milky in deeper that way."

Barbie obeyed, moving from all fours to face down, ass up, physically begging Mandy to go deeper.

Mandy's nipples were rock hard, and she could feel her pussy juices saturating the straps that held Milky to her body. Her drips were so hot she felt them almost burning her skin as they dripped down her thigh.

A pool of lube and her juices was collecting on the bedspread beneath them.

In this position, she couldn't see Brett's cock, just his gaped bussy, and she pushed in deeper.

Brett let out a groan. "That hurt a little," he said.

"Sorry, baby, I got excited," she said from behind.

"It's okay," he said between breaths. "It's good now. You can go faster, but it's going to make me cum."

Mandy could feel her body tingling, her early warning of a pleasure wave. She'd never experienced a spontaneous orgasm. Fingers, mouth, penetration, something on her clit or in her vagina, sure, but this was coming from a different place.

"Fuck me, baby, make your Barbie cum for you," he begged.

She'd been calling him "baby" instead of "Barbie" on purpose; she knew the girl's name might take him out of it. But she'd asked him to say something to make her cum, and calling himself Barbie was the one word she needed.

She began thrusting her hips harder. The sound of their breathing and the greasy sound of the phallus sliding in and out of its very tight hole intensified, and they worked together.

Brett had put the entire strange situation out of his mind and was enjoying the pleasure. His cock was as hard as he'd ever experienced, despite not having been touched the entire night. Mandy's thrusts of the strap-on made his erection flop about.

Mandy's body was reaching overload. It was no longer a mystery what she was feeling; it was the intensity. This was an orgasm of seismic intensity, and it had already started.

"Oh, God," she said as her body began to shake. She tried to keep her cadence, but her legs began to shake.

"Oh, God," she said again, sounding just like a man when he's cumming.

And in that moment, a man was cumming. Below her, Brett's mouth was open, his head sideways on the bed. The nerve endings in his ass were on overload, and each pump from Mandy sent shockwaves across his prostate.

"I'm..."

"Cumming," they both said as Mandy's body froze.

Brett's rock-hard cock began belching thick white ropes of cum. Not just one or two, but several. Like the name she'd bestowed on it, her milky was doing its job and pushing every ounce of semen through Brett's balls and out his cock, saturating the already soaked bedspread.

Mandy felt a gush of fluid. It could have been a pleasure gush she'd never experienced, or she might have fired off a shot of piss. She had no idea and no intention of figuring it out.

They rode the mutual orgasm for what felt like hours, but it was less than a minute. As their combined orgasm receded in sync, they remained coupled for several minutes, breathing hard, saying nothing.

Then Mandy slowly, gently withdrew her milky from his bussy, which was followed by a backflow of lube. More cum drizzled from his cock.

Mandy looked down at her Barbie. The wig had come off; her dress was all over the place and covered in cum and who knows what else. The makeup was smeared.

"You want to get undressed?" she asked.

Still breathing hard, Brett nodded.

"May I?" he asked.

Mandy nodded, then got up and headed for the bathroom. She stopped to remove the strap-on phallus, then walked nude into the bathroom to pee. Brett stood and disrobed, taking off the dress, the bra, and the soiled panties, then walked to the bathroom.

Mandy had left the door open, so he entered. She got up from the toilet, and he stood there to pee. In that moment, they were like a married couple, long past the privacy stage, where a post-fuck pee in front of your partner was hardly a thing.

Mandy found a bottle of baby oil and helped Brett remove his makeup, wiping away the last vestiges of Barbie.

"Sorry I can't be Barbie any longer," he said as he washed his face.

Mandy smiled.

"That's okay. I really wanted to fuck Barbie, but I didn't want her to spend the night," Mandy said.

"Oh," Brett replied. "Do you have any sweats or shorts and a T-shirt I can wear home?"

She walked out of the bathroom, and he watched her adorable body go past.

"Yeah, I do," she said as she opened a dresser, took out an oversized UCSB Gauchos T-shirt and baggy shorts, and threw them to him.

"For the walk of shame," she said.

She then pulled off the soiled comforter.

"That's going to have to be burned," she said, then got a new comforter and got into bed.

"You can wear the shirt in the morning," she said, holding the comforter open, inviting him to join her.

"Would you mind just holding me tonight?" she asked.

Brett smiled and crawled into bed. His erection was gone, but the post-orgasmic thickness made him look large. Only that was wasted on Mandy.

She turned her ass to him, and he moved in to spoon her, gently tucking his cock between his legs to make pussy crotch, keeping his male anatomy behind them.

She smiled, enjoying the feeling of them sharing a post-coital moment, and they fell asleep in a post-orgasm haze.

The next morning, she snuck him out of the Eta Pi house early, not wanting any of the girls to learn the truth about Barbie.

On their way to Denny's, they realized how hungry they were and each ordered a huge breakfast.

"So, we going to talk about last night?" he asked.

"Well, I don't kiss and tell, but I fucked the hottest girl you've ever seen," she said between bites of her Grand Slam breakfast.

"Really?" he said. "Well, I tasted the best pussy ever."

"Oh, just pussy? Nothing more?" she said with a laugh.

"Yeah, there's more," he said. "But I'm still parsing it out."

There was an awkward silence.

"So, I've got a problem," he added. "I want to see you again."

"Still a lesbian," she replied.

"I want to hang out with you," he corrected. "I've never had more fun with anyone."

She looked at him and pointed a fork at him.

"So you want to be friends," she said, considering the offer. "I don't have many straight male friends."

"Good, 'cause that might make me jealous, and that would just confuse me even more," he replied. "So we're friends, then?"

She nodded and took a few bites. Brett loved a girl who ate on a date, even though this wasn't a date.

"What are the benefits?" she asked.

"I don't know. Well, I'm good at math, so you can ask me for help with that. I'm also a good listener if you need someone to talk to. Oh, I have a truck if you need help moving."

"Oh," she said. "Sure, friends. No, I mean benefits, benefits."

He got the drift and smiled.

"I can't dress up as Barbie to do that again," he said. "I just can't."

"How about next Halloween, then, Morticia?" she asked between big bites.

"Morticia?" he replied.

"Yeah, next year you and I do Halloween again. You're Morticia Addams, and I'll be Gomez Addams."

"What's the twist?" Brett asked.

She pointed a strip of bacon at him. "Milky will be Thing. That's the twist."

Brett took a bite of his breakfast, already thinking about where he could buy a long black wig and a tight dress so he could cosplay Morticia even better than he had cosplayed Barbie.

"Yeah, next Halloween, then," he replied.

"You're actually good at math?" she asked. He nodded.

"I've got a stats exam coming up. Any chance you can help me study, friend?"

Barbie and Ken finished their breakfast and shared one last kiss in the parking lot, a deep, passionate kiss that would have to last until next October 31st.