My latest story in the GAY MOMENTS series ‘My Beautiful Boyfriend’ has just been released by Balmain Publishing on Amazon Kindle. Here is an excerpt. I hope you enjoy reading it –
While I was still at school I kept on thinking that my breasts were growing larger all the time. I would try and find a dark corner in the gym when I had to change. During this period I had these horrific nightmares in which my tits would start spouting milk uncontrollably in the most bizarre situations.
Maybe I would end up working as a drag queen. Well perhaps that wouldn’t be so bad. While I was in my final year at school I discovered this bar on the fringe of Kings Cross where they had regular drag shows. Occasionally when I was sure my mum had gone to bed with her sleeping pills I would sneak out, catch a bus and take in the show.
Of course most of the “girls” in the production were absolutely beautiful although I was rather surprised to see that one of the queens would have been approaching my size. One of my favourite numbers in the show was a sketch about Dolly Parton. It told the story of how one day Dolly herself discovered that some drag queens in Texas were holding a ‘Dolly Parton Look-alike Competition.’ So she thought it would be a great hoot if she went undercover and competed in the competition. On the big day she spent hours dressing and making up. Then Dolly travelled to the venue where the show was being held, went prancing down the catwalk with all the other queens and came last in the competition! But my really, really favourite part of the production which, curiously enough, was called Drag!, was an episode where each of the queens would come out, sit on a stool, take off their wigs and tell the audience how and why they got involved in drag.
I became addicted to the show and tried to go along to performances at least twice a week. Because I used up most of my pocket money on the tickets I had to make one coke last the whole of the evening. But hey, I was on Cloud Nine! Here was a world I could immerse myself in. It was a non-judgemental place where “difference” was not only tolerated, it was celebrated. For a few hours each week I could forget that I was fat.
A couple of the more aggressive queens would hurl barbs and insults at the audience and they loved it. One of my favourite moments was when Sheeshy would pick out some man and screech – “Darling, I never forget a face but in your case I’ll make an exception!”
However one aspect of the production puzzled me enormously at first. At the climax of the first big production number all the queens would lift up their dresses can-can style, revealing their long legs and nickers. I stared and stared. Where were their bulges? Where were their packages? My God, between their legs they really did look like girls. And then a thought struck me – had all these boys had an operation? For some reason the thought horrified me.
After a few weeks of attending the show the queens started to get used to seeing me sitting by myself at a table nursing my coke. During the show they would often hurl their insults at me which I loved because I knew it was all in the spirit of fun. Then during the interval two or three of the boys would usually come out and chat with me and I could tell that other people in the audience were really impressed or maybe even jealous. I began to feel that in this place, this bar, this fantastical world, I was not only accepted, I was appreciated.