As he listened to the sound of what he guessed was the little girl entering a stall next to the one he was in, Mark silently cursed and berated himself. Sure he would be taken for a pervert the instant he was discovered, he backed away from the closed and locked stall door and sat down on the toilet seat as quietly as he could. The pressure on his bladder growing, he tried to think of anything but his need to relieve himself and the trouble he would be in the moment he was discovered.
In the next stall over, he could hear the girl as she peed in the toilet and, for reasons he couldn't understand, start to hum to herself a tune that sounded like an off-key version of Mary Had a Little Lamb. The need to go growing and growing, he groaned when it became too much, and it seemed like the girl and her mother wouldn't leave at any time. And unable to hold it any longer, he fumbled with the button and zipper on his shorts for a minute, positive he was about to piss himself, before he finally was able to push them and his underwear a short distance down, just shy of his knees.
His legs clamped together, which forced his dick to point straight down, Mark tried to hold himself a bit longer, even though he knew it was futile. And when his bladder did let go, and the urine left his body in a hot stream that struck the water in the bowl, he heard from the next stall over, "Mamma?"
Fearful that the little girl would look under the partition, even as he watched her feet plant firmly on the floor as she stood, Mark breathed a sigh of relief when the woman's voice called out, "I'm right hear sweetie," which was followed by the girl leaving the stall.
Still scared he would be caught, he didn't move from where he was sitting, even as he heard, "Wash your hands," followed by the sound of the sink being turned on, a squishing noise as the girl got some soap from the dispenser, another squishing sound as she rubbed her hands together, then the sound of the air dryer.
When the sound of the door opened, Mark was terrified it was another girl coming in, but then reasoned, "If it is, they'll take a stall, and I can sneak out," he breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the mother and her daughter leaving. Standing, flushing and hurriedly pulling up his shorts and underwear, he did up the button and zipper and slipped out of the stall. Not even bothering to wash his hands, he raced out of the bathroom and pushed his way into the men's toilet.
There, he stood in front of the mirror. Breathing heavily, his pulse pounding, he cursed Edgar and his questionable plan and how badly it seemed that he, Mark, had been taken in by it. Reaching out, he took a dollop of soap in his hand and began to washing them. Afterward, he splashed his face, which he saw was rather flushed, and took a couple deep breathes. Staring in the mirror at his reflection, taking in his short dark blond hair, his green eyes and his angular face, not seeing anything that even remotely hinted of him being confused or taken for a girl, he reached for a wad of paper towelling and began to dry his hands.
"You got lucky," he told himself after he had tossed the paper mass of paper towel into the trash and hugging himself, he stared at his reflection a moment longer as he worried his lip and shifted his stance.
Unaware how much like a girl he was standing, he tried to convince himself that him putting down a girl's name on his applications, checking boxes for female sex and gender, and his idiotic blunder of going into the girl's restroom was because of how badly his friend had taken him in, Mark uttered a high, nervous, feminine sounding titter as he found he that, no matter what he told himself, he could not fully believe it. Oblivious to how his laughter sounded like a girl's, he turned away from the mirror and strolled across the room and out the door.
Back in the main lobby area of the restaurant, he considered whether he was still hungry, and if he should get something where he was or go home, he sighed and figured, "Might as well get something here," before heading for the order counter.
In front of him, a girl who he guessed must be in high school, "If not already graduated," he thought and unaware that he was doing so, he began to check her out. As she moved a step forward, he studied the cute skirt she was wearing, the pretty camisole she had on, the adorable tiny purse she had clutched in one hand and the sandals she was wearing that complimented her outfit. Suddenly aware that he was staring, he tried to convince himself he had been staring because he thought she was cute, but that didn't feel right. Finding he was having trouble focusing, almost as if he was short of breath, Mark realised he hadn't been checking her out, but her outfit, we thought was oh so perfect, worked for her, and left him wondering where he could get something similar.
Everything seemed to jump and confused as to what happened, Mark watched as the girl finish placing her order and turn. Seeing him, she smiled and said, "Hi. You come here often? My name's Sara. My mom just moved here," followed by something Mark found himself unable to comprehend as everything around him seemed to become drawn out. As if hearing himself from a great distance, but unable to make out what he was saying, he listened as he responded. And then everything seemed to slip away.
---
A groan escaped Mark and he blinked at stared for a moment at the unfamiliar wall. Trying to piece together what happened after he had met Sara, as well as where he was, he found it all was a blur of noise and colour. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes and looked around. Morning sunlight streaming through the windows, he was certain her wasn't in his room as it took him a moment before it came to him that he was in the guest bedroom at his parent's place.
Confused as to why he had fallen asleep in the guest bed he slowly stood and stretched. Blinking, he took a step and stopped when he found not only could not extend his leg as far as usually did, but that he almost fell over a sandal. Looking down, sleep befuddling his brain, he tried to figure out where the sandals had come from, sure they weren't his, as they looked to be girl's sandals, and what was restricting his movements. Seeing what he was wearing, he blinked a couple more times before swearing, "What the shit?!" and doing a stumbling, running, walk out of the room.
Down the hall as quick as he could, his bare feet not making sound, Mark ducked into the bathroom and shut the door. Turning on the light, he turned to the mirror and after seeing his familiar angular, male face, short dark brown hair and green eyes he breathed a sigh of relief. Looking down, he took in the tight white camisole he was wearing that showed off his midriff, what was clearly a strapless bra under it, a tight, short-sleeve, white button-up shirt that had no buttons, and a tight black skirt that started just below his belly button, hugged his body tightly until about the point his legs started, then ballooned out in piece that stopped about midpoint of his upper legs. Wondering why he wearing what he was wearing, where the clothes he had been wearing had gone, he pulled the front of the camisole forward, stared down at his flat chest, which he noted was no longer hairy, and after a moment pulled up the hem of skirt and after shifting in place, breathed a sigh that he at least still had his man junk.
"Though I do have to wonder why it is also hairless, and why I do not have on underwear," Mark thought to himself as he let the skirt drop back into place and gazing into the mirror he again tried to remember what had happened after he had met Sara.
His eyes drifted down to his wrist and as he noted that his arms also didn't have any hair on them, he took in the bracelet he had on. Lifting his arm to examine it closer, he noted it was one of those cheap, plastic ring tight that glowed as he shifted the tag attached to it, which read, "Capitol Night Club - General All-Night Admission." Thinking he had something to go on, Mark tried to recall where Capitol Night Club was, but never got any further then remembering it was a place that catered to teens and young adults when suddenly somebody began knocking on the bathroom door.
Suddenly frozen in place, his mind flashed back to the previous evening and how he had almost been caught in the woman's toilet. Listening as his mom called through the door, "Mark? Honey? Did you sleep over last night?" he was about to say he would be out in a minute, but before he could do anything, the doorknob began to turn and the door began to open.