For twenty-five years, a quarter century in time, Keith had cycled between acceptance of his true nature and running away from it, cloaked in denial.
It essentially started as a result of Keith being a loser with women in high school. He was so shy that he could barely bring himself to say hello to a pretty girl. His bashfulness and slight build had long made him a target for bullies, especially in gym class in the early 80s when the shorts they wore were short and tight.
He hadn't grown any body hair, even through his senior year. Boys called him "girl legs" and threw it in with commenting on how he was so awkward and unskilled at sports because he needed to play on the girls' team. At one point there was a rumor going around that he shaved his legs.
Over the summer after senior year, Keith began to grow body hair for the first time, leading him to believe he was cursed. Now that he had hair on his legs, gym class was over. It wasn't exactly anything that would be going on in college.
Keith ended up going away to college in Arizona. Despite living in New England, Keith's father had gone to the college there and graduated and he thought Keith needed to try to stand on his own two feet because he'd never grown out of being timid and deferential to people.
"You need an experience that will toughen you up or you'll never become a man."
The words hurt, but led to Keith agreeing. He was afraid to be on his own, but he had money for food and other needs and just needed to concentrate on classes.
Things had fallen through with getting a room in the dorms, and Keith ended up getting an apartment off-campus a few blocks from the campus. He'd always heard that people thought students with off-campus apartments were cool, so he had that going for him, and having a place to himself where no one would interrupt him while he was writing his science fiction stories and studying was a plus.
Given the climate, Keith was excited to see so many girls walking around in shorts. He fantasized about them, fixating on their bare legs, wanting desperately to touch them and walking around with a boner in his own shorts.
His desires began driving him mad. He masturbating to the point of crying three times a day imagining he was caressing and kissing those beautiful legs.
One day, he looked in the mirror at himself and smiled. There wasn't anyone around who knew him and would ask questions. Maybe he would shave his own legs, turn off the lights, and feel them and imagine they were the legs of one of the women he was too scared to talk to.
Admittedly, it is hard to feel sorry for a guy who masturbates three times a day while caressing and kissing his own legs, but what else am I supposed to tell you? That is the kind of guy he is.
Of course, he couldn't resist showing off those legs that he loved shooting a load across, and it was perfect shorts weather almost every day.
Then he ordered a pair of heels. He was desperate to see how his legs looked in heels. Two weeks passed and they hadn't arrived.
Then there was a knock on the door. Keith figured it was UPS delivering his package, so he pulled open the door.
He'd seen the man before, around the apartment complex, which surprised Keith because everyone else in the apartments was a student and he was easily into his forties. He'd said hello to Keith in passing, but never anything else, and now he was standing at Keith's door with a package the size of a shoebox in his hand.
It had obviously been opened.
"I'm sorry. They left this at my door by mistake. I was expecting a package and thought this was it and didn't read the name on the label first."
Keith turned red. This man had seen the shoes in the box, a pair of strappy six-inch heels that Keith ordered because he wanted the sexiest look he could achieve for his masturbation sessions. Since the package was addressed to Keith, and if he'd looked at the shoes he would have seen that they were size 11.
"I'm Alan. Do you mind if I come in for a minute?" the man asked, extending a hand and then shaking Keith's lightly, as if shaking the hand of a woman.
"Uh... okay," Keith said, his voice quivering.
"So, I couldn't help noticing what was in the box. Are these shoes for you, Keith?"
"Um... well... I..."
"So, they are. I thought so. You know, whenever I see you, I'm always thinking, gosh, that guy has very pretty legs."
Keith's mouth fell open. He was speechless and froze, not knowing how to react to the situation but feeling like he was about to have a panic attack.
"Keith, I would love to have you try these on for me. Would you do that for me, sweetie?"
"Please... I'm not... I don't... all the time... no..."
"Just put them on. Wouldn't you love to show a man how sexy those legs are, or do you just love getting it on with yourself?"
"Keith, I live in the apartment next door, on the other side from your bedroom, and the bathroom. And the walls here are very thin," Alan said before doing an exaggerated impression of Keith during his masturbation sessions. "Oh I love you, my sexy legs, oh baby, oh baby. these legs have gotten me so hard."
"Please... leave me alone..."
Keith broke down crying. Alan caught him before he fell on the floor and held onto him for a moment, patting his head and grinning.
"There, there, poor thing. Now go put those heels on for me, sweetie."
Keith was terrified and afraid to defy Alan and make him angry. He sheepishly went into his bedroom and started putting on the heels. Looking down at himself, his four inches of substandard man meat got hard. He'd painted his toenails in anticipation of the shoes arriving, and now their bright pink color was impossible to hide from Alan.
"Oh my, you will definitely need some practice with those," Alan said.
Keith was holding onto the wall, unsteady in the heels since he'd never worn a pair before.
Alan went over to him and took hold of his arms to steady him, leading him away from the wall.
With Keith shaking in his heels, having trouble maintaining his balance even with Alan holding his arms, Alan brushed his hair away from his face. He looked into Keith's eyes and smiled.
"Keith, have you ever been with a woman?"
"Have you ever had a girlfriend or gone on a date with a girl?"
Keith began sobbing. "N-n-n-no."
Alan wiped aside the tears with one hand while steadying Keith with the other.
"Keith, sweetie, there are men that women are attracted to, and then there are those like you that they aren't attracted to. Do you know why that is, Keith?"
"Because those guys are actually cocksuckers, Keith. Now get the fuck on your knees for me."
"No... I never..."
"How old are you?"
"And a fairy like you with legs like yours who wears heels hasn't started sucking cock at nineteen? Sweetie, you need to start learning your place in the food chain."
Alan lived in the off-campus apartment because he had a certain liking for boys of a certain age. Not underage mind you, but he liked young college-age men, preferably twinks or shy boys who might need a little help coming out of the closet.
With Keith, he knew he'd hit the gold mine. When he heard Keith in his bedroom, he'd been trying to determine whether he was with someone or just by himself. The way he gushed about his own legs while getting off on them gave him the impression that Keith was with a girl, but he'd never seen any girls coming in or out of his apartment or anyone at all for that matter.
Seeing Keith around in shorts made him wonder, but when he saw the package in front of Keith's apartment door while Keith was in classes, he thought to take a look. When he saw the package was from a shoe company, he couldn't resist finding out if Keith had just mail ordered sneakers or if there was something more interesting going on in the apartment next door.
Seeing the heels and checking the size, Alan brought the package into his apartment and made a plan to bring it to Keith later that evening when he was home and tell him that it was misdelivered and that he'd opened it by mistake.
"Keith, look into my eyes," Alan said, taking Keith's hand and putting it on the erection he had in his pants, nine inches of actual man meat that was rock hard. "Keith, look how hard you've made my cock. Get on your knees and take a look at what you've done to me."
Keith kept sobbing, nodded sadly, and began crouching down.
"No, sweetie, a guy like you kneels before real men. Kneel!"
"O-o-okay... I'm sorry."
"Keith, look at yourself. You are never going to have a girlfriend. You are too pathetic for any woman to ever love you. Don't you understand that?"
"Y-y-yes... I know..." Keith said, his tears landing on his bare, smooth thighs.
Alan dropped his pants, kicked off his shoes, kicked his pants free, and grabbed the chair from Keith's desk that was right behind him. He pulled Keith closer, sat down on the chair and told him to take it in his hand.
"I-i-i can't... I... not... gay..."
"Sweetie, I know you aren't gay, but you need to suck this cock. Any guy that shaves his legs and prances around in high heels is going to end up on his knees eventually. Put your hand on it and gently coil your hands around it. Treat it like it is your own dick. You sure seem to stroke that enough to know how to do it."
He would suck Alan's cock that night. That much should be obvious, but it was all that Alan wanted.
Keith slobbered away clumsily, drooling as he sucked that big, beautiful cock, loving it so much that he started moaning and then saying, "You have... beau... beau... tiful cock" breathlessly.
"See, what did I tell you? You're a natural born cocksucker and you've got the legs to go with it. Prettier than any girl's legs, I think."
Alan just laughed and told him to suck faster. He had a church meeting in an hour.
When Keith finished, with Alan doing the last few strokes to orgasm with his hand, and and he was wearing Alan's cum all over his face, Alan walked him into the bathroom. He had Keith look at himself in the mirror.
"Now, jerk yourself off for me while telling me how much you loved sucking my cock."
Keith reluctantly took down his shorts to his knees and began stroking himself.
"Keith," Alan laughed. "Are you hard?"
"Y--y-yes..." Keith sobbed, fully realizing how much smaller his four inches was to Alan's nine.
"Keith, you're going to be a cocksucker for the rest of your life. No woman is going to want to have anything to do with anything that small. How the fuck will she even feel you in there."
Keith came as he was saying those words, sobbing and quietly saying, "Oh god, I'm a cocksucking faggot..."
Alan left him crying on his bathroom floor, his cum on his legs and Alan's on his face. As he left he told him, "I just wanted to wake you up to who you are Keith. You need to go find someone your own age who will let you go down on them all the time."
Keith avoided Alan on purpose after that, to the point of no longer going to classes and only leaving his apartment to buy essentials like food.
At the end of the semester, when he'd failed out of college, his parents angrily brought him home.
All Keith could think was, "Here's your pathetic failure of a cocksucker son."