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Trans Action

$2.99

[lesbian, transsexual woman, transgender woman, shemale, romantic, cunnilingus, oral sex, anal sex]

Dinner with friends, and a new face--tall, blonde and beautiful, with long golden tresses and a ready laugh. My lesbian side was enthralled. Yet, something was different. What shoulders! Later, outside the restaurant, I found her crying. She had been dumped, her guy leaving in his car with her suitcase. Poor Brogan had no place to stay. I invited her home, and that night I learned part of the truth. She’s in transition. Did I take advantage of a woman in distress? Sorry, I wasn’t raised that way. The next morning, though, was different. Brogan showed me all her secrets.

=|<>|=


      I showed her the bathroom and my spare bedroom. We sat on the couch drinking wine. Brogan made all the appreciative sounds a host likes to hear.
      “I just need to make a call or two in the morning, and I’ll have the money to get me home,” she assured me. “I’m not really indigent. Just a minor liquidity issue.”
      “This happens a lot, I think you said?”
      “You’re a nice lady,” she said with an air of finality. “When I looked at you in the restaurant, you smiled.”
      I made a look that I think said, “Big deal.”
      “No, really. For someone like me, it doesn’t happen that often. Especially from women. I’m just finding out how competitive women are.”
      “Sorry, Brogan, you lost me.” Well, not completely. But how does one politely inquire about a sudden guest’s unusual height, broad shoulders and, now that I’ve had a chance to see her up close, husky voice, narrow hips, large hands and feet, and muscular legs?
      “I’m in transition.”
      “We’re not talking Cleveland to Akron here, are we?”
      “HRT. Excuse me, hormone replacement therapy. And, yes, this happens a lot. Usually, after Prince Charming stops behaving like a gentleman. I guess I’ve been having a run of bad luck.”
      “Is that what happened tonight?”
      “In the parking lot. In his car, thankfully. Usually, it’s more public.”
      “You know why I smiled this evening, don’t you?”
      She looked at me.
      “You’re very pretty,” I said. “Your hair is gorgeous. You’re easy on the eyes, is what I’m trying to say.”
      Her face relaxed. Like it was something she hadn’t heard very often.
      Did I come on to her? A new-found girl in distress, rescued from the dark night, vulnerable and appreciative? Did I take advantage and whisk her to my bed?
      Fuck, no. I just wasn’t brought up that way. Thought about it, though.

***

     “Are you a lesbian?” I had run to the bakery around the corner for fresh bagels. We had just started eating breakfast in my kitchen when Brogan asked the question—the one I’m usually asking myself.
      “Yes.” It was emphatically today’s answer.
      I touched her hair. It was as soft as it looked. My hand went to her cheek, I leaned in and kissed her.
      She returned the kiss. “I’m really into guys.”
      “Lesbian is just a label. Last night, I wasn’t feeling particularly lesbian. This morning, I am. You’re very nice to kiss.”
      We kissed again. This time my tongue went past her lips and met hers.
      She tasted good. It felt right.
      I wondered what was between her legs. Not that the thought hadn’t crossed my mind earlier like, maybe, a thousand times. Now, though, it was less academic.
      We made out. I got lost in those golden tresses. I breathed in her scent. “I just have to keep saying this,” I murmured into her ear. “You’re so pretty.”
      “I don’t hear that much.”
      I took her hand and led her to my bedroom. We laid down next to each other, fully clothed. I framed her face in my hands.
      “Synapses are firing in my brain that haven’t gone off in decades. I sleep with men. I sleep with women. You’ve got me confused. But why? You’re a woman. But now I remember the last time it was like this. Want to hear a true story?”
      Brogan’s eyes said yes.
      “I was eighteen. It was the summer before my first year of college and hot as hell. I spent most every afternoon that summer with two guys. One was twenty, the other was nineteen, a year older than me. You have to understand, I was skinny and flat-chested then. I wasn’t into sex or boys. But after graduation, something happened. Hormones kicked in. My eyes started to roam. I got urges. “So, these two guys. We hung out. We took our clothes off every day. We explored one another’s bodies. It was their first times, too. We had sex. No damn kissing, either. It wasn’t a romance. We were learning about sex.”
      “You weren’t scared?”
      “Scared? I was pushing them. I was stark, raving boy crazy. I wanted that thing between Ronnie’s legs inside me. But he was too big. So on the afternoons he was mowing lawns, I played with Melvin. We’d go in the woods….”


Word Count: 3,950

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