Why, She's A "He"!

“Well, thank you,” she said and Tina now noticed she had a Latin accent. “Your boyfriend, he have very good taste.”

“He’s not my boyfriend, just a friend. But sometimes we like to pal around together and see what comes up.”

“You like go to bars and pick up chicks?”

“Sort of, except in your case we wouldn’t be picking up a chick, would we?” Tina said, giving her a meaningful look.

She said nothing, gazing silently at Tina. Then she smiled coyly.

“You were there, next to me?” she said, pointing to the stalls, “and you see that I stand up, right, honey?

“That’s right,” Tina said, now boldly sliding a hand under her skirt and giving a little squeeze to the obviously male bundle of goodies she had packed between her legs.

“I’m Tina, by the way,” she said, “and my friend out there who lusts for you, who you’ve given such a hardon, is Dave.”

“I am Claudia,” she said, sensing from Tina that she accepted her – or ‘him’ – for whom she or he was.

“Listen? Does Dave turn you on?” Tina asked.

“Yeah, he really cute guy, I could go for a guy like that. Que papi chulo.”

“Well how about this?” Tina said, her wicked mind quickly improvising the ruse, “How about when we’re back in the bar you come join us at our table? You know, turn him on. Really turn him on. And then come back with us to my place. We won’t tell him a thing. Later on, when the time is right, he’ll find out what he’ll find out.”

“Hey, I no want him to get pissed off and beat me up. You know a lot of guys when they find out a chick is–-“

”Don’t worry about that,” Tina said, interrupting her, “that won’t be a problem. I know him pretty well. Everything will go nice and smooth. I’ll make sure of that.”