Drinks help

You down the shot. It was tequila and chase it down with the drink.

Emboldened by the liquid courage and the warm, understanding eyes of Gianna, you blurt out that you've been fantasizing about she-males. You instantly regret telling her. You feel your face turn red in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry. I'll leave. You probably never heard anything so perverted," you say as you get up.

Gianna grabs your hand to hold you in place.

"First," Gianna says in a calm soothing voice, "you wouldn't believe the things I've heard. Second, whatever is told to Gianna, stays with Gianna. Third, you're in no condition to leave right now. Fourth, it's not perverted, it's cool. She-males are beautiful."

You sit down relieved that Gianna doesn't think your a freak. You return to your drink. Then a thought crosses your mind.

"You're not a ..."

Gianna smirks and grabs her boobs, "No, 100 percent women. Sorry." She puts another drink in front of you.

You figured it would be too easy of she was. You drink and think about what it would have been like if she was a pre-op transexual."

You get up to go to the bathroom and you stumble a bit. Gianna looks cautiously at you and tells you it's closing time. You nod and stagger to the bathroom and return.

"How, how about one for the road?" you slur.

"OK, but you're in no condition to drive," Gianna says maternally.

"You, you gonna?" I mumble as I down the last drink.

"No, I don't have a car. I walk home from here," she says as she rinses out the last of the glasses.

The door opens and a beautiful, tall red-head struts in. Her sparkly, red dress emphasizes her cleavage. Her high heels must be at least three-inches. You notice a little charm around her ankle. Her party dress hugs her hips and stops halfway between her crotch and her knees showing off shapely legs.

She walks gracefully over to you and sits down next to you. Laying her purse on the bar, she looks at Gianna. You notice her perfectly made up face - ruby red lipstick, lighter red eye shadow. Her hoop earrings dangle and you think what a lady she is.

"This is your ride home," Gianna says.

Feeling like a charming stud, you slur, "What's your name?"

The red-head in a deep voice says, "John. What's yours?"