By the time I got to the bar my eyes were still trying to adjust to the lack of light in the room.. I sat at the bar, looked around. Made eye contact ...ith this guy. He smiled and moved towards me. Sat at the stool next to mine, never looking away from my eyes. He asked me what he could do for me. I figured a Beer and a Burger. Still looking into my eyes. He starts to smile again. This time I feel his hand on my thigh as he leans forward. Getting close to my face he asks me if I have been in. Hisslightly ruddy complexion lightened to a soft pink color.His body was much narrower now in the shoulders and trunk. His male angleswere rounding to feminine curves. His legs were longer in proportion to therest of his body with lush, white thighs that tapered to a smaller, higherwaist.The tingling seemed to intensify at his groin. He put a hand against hiscrotch. Through his pants, he felt the bulges that were his genitals becomesmaller and smaller until they disappeared completely. In a. Crying? Men don't cry. They bite down on it. They toughen up. That's whathis old man would say. And Mitch was able to dry his tears. He reflectedon his situation. The jogging pants were ruined. And the restroom wasbusier than grand central station, otherwise he would wash them. Hisswimtrunks. That was the ticket. He put them on.The knocking was persistent."Are you sure you are okay," a voice said."Almost done," Mitch said. Fuck, the swimtrunks were too tight. Much tootight. They hugged his rear. He always took no for an answer, but I know from what he had said to me he was disappointed.However, I was quite enjoying the attention he was giving my bum. He was running his tongue all around my cheeks, and his finger tickled my bum hole. "Your pussy is sore, let me take you this way now," he pleaded.It was the nearest I had come to let him have his way, but I apologised and told him that I just couldn't do it. "But I think my pussy has recovered enough," I said as I rolled over onto my.