I hadn't intended to stay but they seemed so interested that I couldn't resist. All three girls seemed friendly but Fallon spoke up the most.

"So you're Troy. I've heard about you. You have nice legs," she greeted me, and I figured she ought to know. Hers were spectacular.

Fallon was tall, blonde, slender, and athletic. She was wearing a black concert tie-top, denim short shorts, black sneakers, and crimson knee socks with black stripes. She continued with the obvious, "What do you do?"

"Go to school and hang out," I replied, despite the incongruity.

"I run track," she stated, and I believed her. It went with the athletic look and the legs. "They say you're a quick learner."

"I guess," I allowed. I'd certainly gone through a lot of changes in the past week and pretty much learned to cope with them.

"You wanna run over to Bennie's?"

That seemed doomed to fail. Bennie's was a local diner and hangout several miles from Gina's house. Fallon would undoubtedly run me into the ground.

I began to suggest driving but then she assured me, "Relax, whiz, this isn't a track meet. I have my bike. You wanna go?"

"Yeah, let's do it," I agreed, and then we went outside. Gina and Holly stared daggers but said nothing.

Fallon's bike, as it turned out, was a pink on black custom motorcycle fully decked out for street and show.

"OK, I'll follow you," I suggested.

"I thought we could ride together," she countered while handing me a spare helmet from the luggage box. It fit.

"Are we coming back here? That's my mom's car and I need to return it."

"Yeah, we could come back here," she agreed with a glance at Gina's window. "Do you need to call and get permission or ask if you can stay out or anything?"

"Uh, no," I replied. That would've been humiliating, especially with a chopper chick.

"OK, then, hop on," she told me.

I took a place on the back seat, stepped on the footrests, and wondered where to hang on. "Just grab my waist," she instructed, and then we were off.

Riding on Fallon's bike was tougher than I thought. For one, I'd never ridden a motorcycle before, and I had trouble balancing. For another, I was still dressed in the short khaki kilt I'd bought the day before with Noreen and Mandy. It was breezy, I didn't think it covered me in front, and the back kept flapping in the airstream. I was constantly afraid of dropping my bag. Plus, how often do you see a couple on a motorcycle with the girl driving?

* * * * *

Bennie's, at that day and time, was apparently home turf for a motorcycle club named The Spirit Stalkers. I was apprehensive at first but Fallon seemed to know everyone and after a while they seemed less intimidating.

The guys who had packages were dressed in traditional biker gear. Most of the rest were wearing flat-front pant or shorts but, to my relief I wasn't the only one wearing a kilt. Shirts and shoes were all over the place. Some guys apparently liked showing off they were smooth (or hairy) and some preferred covering it up (or not).

Attention seemed focused on one kilted guy in particular. Girls seemed to be drooling over him and their boyfriends didn't seem to like it. Surprisingly, though he was was probably the homeliest guy in the place. He was short, skinny, pale, and pimply. His attire consisted of white socks, some beat-up sneakers, a plaid shirt, a longish black kilt, and thick eyeglasses. When he headed for the men's room I followed him.

"You seem to have a way with girls," I greeted him inside.

"Yeah, it's nuts," he replied incongruously as he entered a stall. I took the adjoining one, dropped the seat, wiped it, lifted my kilt, sighed, and sat down.

"Was it always like that?" I asked while spewing piss out of nowhere.

"No, just for the past few weeks," he replied over the sound of his own business. It was odd, I reflected, how dickless guys sounded different than intact ones, and how I'd learned the difference. Then again, why would it sound the same?

"It started when my stuff fell off," he continued. "After that, girls just started coming on to me. I suppose it's flattering, in a way, but where were they when I could do something about it?"

"Pretty much the same thing happened to me," I related. "I don't think it's because of being separated, though, because I have some separated friends and girls don't go after them the same way. And it's not the kilt, because I see other guys in kilts not getting the same attention."

"I dunno, man, being separated has to be part of it. A couple times I went out with my stuff attached and the girls were back to treating me like a nerd. Then it detached and the same girls were gushing all over me. And it does seem to work better with a kilt"

By then I was wiping my useless crotch with toilet paper. For the billionth time I felt flat hairless skin and a tiny piss hole you can hardly notice. Pissing meant dribbling all over. What a pain! Then I stood up and quickly straightened my kilt. Going commando had its advantages, but not enough to compensate.

"Do girls like your legs? I get that a lot," I wondered aloud.

"Yeah, me too," he confirmed, "but after a while it's kind of a pain. I liked all the attention at first but I get nothing out of it any more; not like the girls do. They're smelly and they taste bad and my mouth gets sore. What about you?"

"To me it's interesting because I'd never done that stuff before but yeah, other than that, I get nothing out of it," I remarked as I left the stall.

"Well, look man, if you wanna mess around with any of these chicks, go ahead. I'm getting' tired of it and even if I wanted, I couldn't do 'em all."

"I'm with Fallon," I stated, and then I asked, "What's your name? Do you want to keep in touch?"

"Roscoe Fernweller. OK, I know, nerdy name, but that's the real me. But sure, we could sync contact info if you want."

We did and then, outside the men's room, we discovered a line of girls waiting to pounce. Several of them were tempting but Fallon pulled me outside and onto her bike. Quite a few girls stared as we left, and because of that their guys stared too, but at least no one started a fight. And that time, I remembered to put my bag in the luggage box.

* * * * *

"We've got about an hour of daylight," Fallon shouted back to me. "Let's get out of town."

I wasn't so sure about that but Fallon apparently couldn't hear my objections. Instead she headed straight for the edge of town and then, within minutes, we were cruising down a two-lane road in the country.

It was an interesting road; I have to allow that. It had rolling hills, gentle curves, beautiful scenery, and only the occasional house or small village. The low sun gave everything a golden glow.

After perhaps half an hour Fallon pulled into an unlikely-looking gas station that doubled as a convenience store and campground office. "We probably have enough gas to get home but why take a chance?" Fallon explained.

"Are you sure about this place?" I asked. "It looks kind of run down and I'm not sure it's even open."

"You take what you can get out here," Fallon explained and then, to my surprise, an attendant came out wearing nothing but a greasy t-shirt. That's right: no shorts, no pants, no kilt, nothing. From the neck down he was, of course, smooth all over. For just a moment he looked at my kilt, and then I think he sniggered.

"Fill it up," Fallon requested.

"Don't hardly seem likely," the guy answered with a tiny shake of one leg, but he did put gas in the motorcycle and took our money.

"They don't get much traffic out here," Fallon explained after the bottomless guy was done. "Country folk, in their way, live closer to nature."

"You didn't seem surprised when he came out. Do you come here often?"

"Only when I need gas," Fallon replied.

* * * * *

By dusk we were back at Gina's house so I could pick up Mom's car.

"Do suppose I could stay over?" Fallon asked.

"You'd have to ask Gina," I replied.

"No, silly, with you," she teased.

A week earlier such a thing would've been unthinkable. Since then, however, Mom had more or less given me permission and I'd tested it by having Izzy stay over the previous night. With that in mind, I told her, "Sure."

I drove home in Mom's car and Fallon followed. Halfway there I realized I'd left my bag in her luggage box but fortunately, no one pulled me over on the way.

Fallon freaked when my dad came to the door naked and my mom greeted us in just a thin nightgown. I guess her uncles and cousin's weren't into that and the country gas station guy was somehow different.

Then, after she'd greeted us, Mom ran upstairs to confiscate my Package Pen, and Fallon thought that was odd too. Hell, I thought it was odd! Meanwhile, we sat in the family room with my naked dickless dad.

When she returned Mom suggested, "Why don't you kids grab a soda and sit outside?" and Fallon seemed more comfortable with that. It was a nice night, we had a nice deck, the weather was beautiful, and Fallon was apparently an outdoor person. Instead of a soda, though, she grabbed a six-pack of my dad's beer and snuck it outside.

"Blame it on me and leave the porch light off," she suggested.

I knew my dad would notice the missing beers, but what would he say? It seemed a lot less major than going naked around the house or sleeping with naked girls.

"So, was your dad always so casual?" she asked while cracking open a beer, handing it to me, and then cracking open another for herself.

"No, only since his dick fell off," I explained. "That was Wednesday. Mine fell off on Monday."

"So what about you? Do you go naked around the house too?"

"Lately," I had to admit, and then almost immediately Fallon peeled off her clothes and insisted I do the same. Somehow I was both glad and sad that the lights were off. We sat in two lawn chairs facing each other, dim outlines in the dark.

"So, do you miss it?" Fallon began after taking a swig.

"Miss what?"

That annoyed her. "Your dick. Sex. Being a guy," she explained.

"Well, yeah, I'm used to having, uh, guy stuff. I had it all my life and now a hundred times a day I notice it's gone. So yeah, I miss it. Sooner or later I'm going to piss standing up and it'll go all over the place. I came close a couple of times but the kilt usually reminds me. Either that or not finding a zipper."

"What about sex?"

"I never had any, except for jerking off, but I don't miss that at much as I thought I would. I used to feel like it three or four times a day. Now I hardly ever think about it."

Fallon cracked open another pair of beers and handed me one. It was starting to have an effect.

"Yeah, that's what my cousins say. They live across the street from us. My uncle's thing fell off a couple of months ago and then theirs did. Their whole family is dickless now, except for, you know, a couple of hours a week. It's crazy over there when one of them has a dick on."

"You mean�?"

"Yeah, they wear each other's dicks. Sometimes it's for variety, and sometimes because the thing needs feeding and no one else is home. I tried it once but it wasn't that great."

"What? How� ?"

"The dick takes over the clitty and the balls straddle the cunt. Kate and Phaedra have tried it too. But it's big and it gets in the way and it's messy and my jeans won't fit and my clitty feels better anyway. But at least now I know."

"Does it change?"

"What, oh, I know what you mean. No, not from a girl wearing it. I guess they do change when another guy wears one, though, and especially when they wear two at once. They say they can hardly tell 'em apart any more. My uncle and my one cousin still like having 'em on, though. Did you wear kilts before you, uh, came apart?"

"No, that was my mom's idea. She says it's not feminine, it's non-masculine, and it'll help me adjust. Mostly, though, it's kind of humiliating. She watches too many talk shows. What about your other cousin?"

"Oh, he's off the wagon, so to speak. He says he's used to being flat and doesn't want to bother with all that other stuff anymore, and that's fine with me. I get tired of all that macho stuff from guys."

Fallow took a swig and then continued, "I like you in a kilt. My uncle and cousins won't wear one. But I kinda like that non-masculine idea. I get a buzz just being around you. I guess you're just starting out, huh?"

"With what?"

"Non-masculine clothes. Not that you look bad, but you do look kinda new at it."

"Different people keep giving me advice. I suppose I could narrow that down to one person but what if they're wrong? Why? Do I look weird?"

"What you have on right now is perfectly fine," she assured me. In the dark, I'd forgotten we were naked. I opened the last two beers and handed her one. "But earlier, that kilt and those shoes were a little preppy and the shirt seemed off. You gonna stick with the kilts?"

"Yeah, I pretty much have to. I bought seven in the past week and I suppose I need to wear them. I'm getting used to them, though. Uh, what are you doing there?"

"Oh, sorry, I was touching myself. I forgot. You know, masturbating. I get that buzz from you. Do you want me to stop? It comes with the sex organs. I'm sure you remember."

"No, go ahead," I told her, and then for the next twenty minutes I got bored and she spoke only in gasps.

* * * * *

"It's getting chilly out here," I noted after a while.

"You wanna go up to your room?" Fallon proposed.

"Uh, yeah, that'd be good. Oh, uh, you don't need to get dressed."

"Huh? I mean, I know your dad goes naked, and I guess you do, but neither of you have anything to hide. You mom was wearing something."

"Don't sweat it," I reassured her. "Izzy and I showed up naked for breakfast this morning and nobody said a thing."

"Who's Izzy?" Fallon asked, and then I panicked.

"A friend of mine," I replied, hoping Fallon would guess the wrong sex. As it turned out, though, she'd panicked as well.

"Do you have naked sleepovers with guys?" she asked uncertainly. "I mean, even if this Izzy is separated, I didn't think you were into that."

"No, Izzy is a girl," I had to admit.

Fallon seemed miffed but less than I'd feared. "I guess that's gonna happen when you hang around with popular guys," she reasoned. "And you and I, like, we haven't made any promises past tonight, have we?"

"No, I guess not. So, you comin' inside?"

She was. In the dark her outline stood up, threw her beer cans in the trash, gathered her clothes, and looked around for other debris. I did pretty much the same.

* * * * *

Mom and Dad were watching television dressed (or not) as before. They smiled as we passed through the kitchen and went upstairs. My dad was drinking a beer and tipped it toward me. That was a relief. If I was gonna be toast, at least it wouldn't be right away. Mom asked if we needed anything and told me to leave the door open. Dad gave Fallon a couple of once-overs, gave me a wink, and then watched Fallon's butt as we climbed the stairs.

* * * * *

Fallon looked even better in light than in darkness, and naked rather than dressed. Her legs seemed even longer than before and her figure was hourglass-perfect. Her skin was smooth, taught, and firm all over.

And of course she had sex organs. I could morn the loss of my dick and balls but Fallon had two nipples, two breasts, and a pussy with lots more stuff inside. Having those transformed her thighs, her mouth, her butt, and in fact the rest of her body into sex organs as well. It was both depressing and exciting at the same time. The best sex I could have was to be a spectator.

Fallon led me to the bed, told me to sit on the edge, and then sat on my lap facing me. Almost instantly I smelled that her pussy was aroused. Next she asked me to rub her tits and pussy, and that seemed to arouse her even more. Of course, it did nothing for me, no more than, say, locking elbows.

"Finish me," she begged, and then I tried to roll over so I could slide down and kiss her pussy.

"No, no, just do it by hand," she ordered, but somehow I couldn't get it right. I knew she'd done herself outside but in the dark I hadn't seen how. I tried mimicking what I'd done by mouth to Brenda and Izzy but Fallon didn't like that either.

"Here, I'll do myself and you watch," Fallon suggested, and then she stuck her hand inside our legs and began rubbing the top part of her pussy with her big finger. She also began a running commentary.

"Here, this is the spot. Use pussy juice to keep it lubricated. See, just reach in and smear some of it out. Keep up the rubbing. Be fast but not rough. Oh, you make me hot. Whatever you're doing, keep it up. Keep watching. I think you're like Roscoe or the gas station guy. See, here! See what I'm doing? It takes a while. Oh, oh, almost! Oh there! There! Oh shit that's good!"

Fallon screamed, gasped, and bucked for several minutes then gave herself five minutes to calm down. "OK, now you," she urged.

I'd have loved to jack off right then but of course that was impossible. Instead I stuck my hand and my big finger where Fallon's had been and tried to repeat her movements. Instead of a running commentary, she began running instructions.

"Yes, right there. Lube me. Be careful with your fingernail. Can you turn your hand around? Yeah, that's better. No, higher. Faster. Not so hard. Don't poke, flick. Yeah, there. Faster! Keep it up! Keep it up! There! There! Oh yeah, you got it! Ooooh!"

After that came more screaming, gasping, and bucking, then she slowed down and eventually rested. I looked at my hand and headed out to wash it but Fallon seemed to read my mind.

"No, stay here. In a few minutes I'll be ready again."

"How can you do that so often?" I asked.

"Girls don't use up anything when they cum," she explained, and that made me even more envious than before.

But they must use up their pussy juice, I thought. I certainly had enough of it on my hand. I suppose I could've wiped it off on the sheet but instead I just stuck it in my mouth and licked. She tasted a lot like Izzy and Brenda but not exactly/

"Oh, that's hot. Do it again," Fallon urged.

* * * * *

After a few more goes Fallon proclaimed herself done, wiped herself off with the sheet, and told me I'd done a great job. I knew it was all the satisfaction I'd get.

"Do I need to dress before going to the bathroom?" she asked.

"No, since I went dickless my parents have no problem with naked girls walking around," I replied thoughtlessly. Fallon frowned but then let it pass.

* * * * *

After that we went to the bathroom so I could wash my hands, and Fallon had me wash her pussy as well. After that we watched each other pee and then snuggled beneath the sheets. Fallon still seemed to be aroused, though.

Judging from the noise, my parents seemed to be having a good time as well and I wondered how that could be. I guess we'd made plenty of noise too, though, so I tried to ignore it.

* * * * *

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