To Be a Woman by Piers Anthony Read Free Book Online Page A

problem?”
    “No money. We can't rent a unit for a night.”
    “True.”
    “But maybe--”
    “I am ready to do your will.”
    He pulled into the motel. “I feel like a damn pimp.”
    “I feel like a whore.” It was true. My whole prior existence had been as a mechanical whore. I was disgusted with it.
    He parked in the lot, distant from the motel office. We waited. “Open your shirt partway,” he said. “So he can see inside.”
    “I know how to do this,” I said primly. That was a significant understatement. It was all I really knew how to do.
    “Sorry. Of course you do.”
    “I will speak only to answer questions relating to sex. One word will probably suffice.”
    “One word?”
    I smiled. “Yes.”
    “That's the word,” he agreed.
    I remade my hair style so as not to resemble the person I had been, and applied makeup to change my complexion. Then I did the same for Banner. We needed to be strangers to the pictures the authorities had of us.
    A car pulled in, and a man and a woman got out and walked to the office. This was not what we needed. I was both relieved and disappointed. Emotions were such complicated things! Instead of being straightforward, they tended to get messily mixed. We waited.
    Another car pulled in. Two men got out. They had the look of stevedores about them. We got out, walked across, and intercepted the men. “My girlfriend and I are traveling cross-country and are in a jam,” Banner said. “We ran out of money. We're willing to deal for it. Fair exchange. Are either of you interested in sex?”
    The men glanced at him, uncertain whether he was serious. Then they glanced at me. I smiled sexily, breathing deeply. I saw the impact it had on them; their eyes were trying to lock on my low decolletage and the generous breastly flesh it harbored. I did know how to attract the attention of a man, any man. Now they both wanted to believe. Men are easy.
    “We both are,” one man said, licking his lips. “How much?”
    Banner named a figure. “Cash only. No violence. For one hour. All you can eat.”
    “Including a threesome?”
    “Yes.”
    “You'll do that?” the man asked me.
    I nodded.
    They made the deal, handing Banner the cash. Then I accompanied them to the office, waited while they rented their unit, and entered it with them.
    There followed an intense hour as the three of us stripped, both men felt up my breasts and buttocks, kissed them avidly, made me feel their standing members, and each man did me separately, climaxing almost instantly. There was no art to it, no pretense of affection or respect, just immediate gratification. One had a long thin member which I readily accommodated; the other had a short thick one, so I shortened and loosened my vagina to ensure his comfort. After a brief recovery one man had me fellate him while the other slowly penetrated my lubricated anus. They liked the notion of filling me from each end simultaneously, and I was expert in obliging them. All of this was in my reference memory bank. Then they took turns sucking my nipples and licking my vulva while I simulated building passion. Finally once more, conventionally, as the time ran out, they struggling to gain that final orgasm, I exclaiming with faked passion. That wasn't lying, it was part of the script.
    “You're great!” one man said, well satisfied.
    “Honey if you ever run out of money again, look us up,” the other said.
    “We hope to be far away from here, soon,” I replied. “But I doubt we encounter any more manly men than you.”
    They laughed, knowing it was a line but liking it anyway, and let me go. The subject of my nature had never come up. All they had cared about was what I seemed to be: an experienced, well stacked women in need of money.
    I rejoined Banner in the car. “How bad was it?” he asked, his feelings obviously mixed.
    “It was easy. Standard fare. They never realized my nature, so I never had to lie.”
    “Did they do anything I wouldn't