Falling for Dad's Slut Ch. 05 - Sex Stories

Falling for Dad's Slut Ch. 05

... in a while." He then turns to Stella. "And who's your lovely girlfriend?"

Hmm, this guy. I told him I was coming with a boyfriend.

"Remember I told you I'd be with a boy?"

"Yeah...?"

"He's it. He's the boy." I introduce them to one another. "Stella, this is Tyler and Eve. This is Stella."

"Stella looks like a girl to me," Eve remarks astutely.

Stella smiles broadly at them, showing all of her teeth and says "I'm not a girl. I'm a boy."

"Evan, you didn't warn us," Eve says genially.

I did!

Stella puts their fears to rest. "Oh, don't worry about Evan, he's not gay. He's just using me as his fucktoy until he gets a real girlfriend."

They offer to buy us a drink, and we all head to a nearby coffee shop. They want to know more about Stella, but she has reverted to her more usual demure self. She clings to my side, almost trying to hide behind me. I don't tell them much, either. If they bother to check, they'll find out easily enough who Stella really is.

"Why are you dressing her like a boy?" Eve asks guilelessly and out of the blue, like she has entirely forgotten our earlier conversation. She and Tyler don't have three working neurons between them. My plans to treat Stella as the young man she -- he -- is have fallen through.

When we get rid of the two dumb-dumbs, I scold Stella "How can I make a man out of you, when you tell everybody you're my fucktoy and act like a silly girl?"

"I'm sorry." He looks contrite.

"What do you think of ...

... Eve?" I ask him. "I think she likes you."

"Yeah, just not the right way."

"Do you like her?"

"Fat ass, big tits? What's not to like?"

"Would you do her?"

"You bet," he chuckles.

We circle back around the center. A face painting studio I saw earlier caught my attention. We stop in front of its windows and observe the interior.

"Let's go," Stella says. "Unless you plan to get your face painted."

But I do. It's her words that spur me to action, I was struggling with doubt. Back when we were leaving the city, I thought a painted mustache might help Stella look more like a guy. And earlier, when I saw some girls coming out of the shop with painted cat faces, I decided whiskers were also an option. I grab her hand and step inside.

There's a lady welcoming us. "Good afternoon. How may I help you?"

"Hi. Good afternoon. Could you give my boyfriend a face painting?"

"Wait! What?" Stella starts. "You're not serious."

I don't pay attention to what he says and look intently at the woman.

"Why, certainly. What sort of design do you have in mind?"

"Ooh, I don't know. A cat face. Something cute."

"A cat face will be very cute. Your boyfriend has the best face shape for it."

"Don't I know it!"

The painting lady invites Stella to her stylist chair. Stella is still protesting, but with some light encouragement and prodding, he climbs into it.

"Any design and color preferences?" the artist asks.

"No. I'll have to leave it to your good ...