Memoirs of a Transgendered Lady
From Bourbon Street To the Boudoir (part 2)
By Roberta Angela Dee
This is a continuation of last month’s story,
so many of you were kind enough to request.
June of 1982 -- Westwego, Louisiana
“Good for you,” I exclaimed. “I wish you could talk to all of my
transsexual and transgendered friends. So many of them have been brainwashed
to believe they must have surgery to be truly transsexual. Or, they’ve been
brainwashed to believe that cross dressing is wrong and deviant. Your point
of view is not only refreshing, it’s a healthier option for the individual
than anything I’ve heard in a long time.”
Rebecca leaned forward, moving her lips very near to mine, and said,
“Well, you seem like someone who would make an excellent roommate, sweetie,
if not something more.”
“I’d love to be your roommate, girl friend,” I answered, “but when do I
get to find out about the ‘something more’?”
She smiled, gave me a sweet little kiss, and said, “You could find out
tonight, if you’re interested.”
We left the lounge and drove away from the French Quarter. Rebecca rode
in a Chevrolet Corvair, and I drove in a Mercury Capri. We traveled across
the Mississippi River Bridge, through the parish of Gretna, and through the
Harvey Tunnel. The Harvey Tunnel seemed familiar. Where had I seen it
before? About midway through the tunnel, I recalled that I had seen the
tunnel in a scene from “Cat People.” I also recalled the scene where
Nastassia Kinski runs through the woods naked while being transformed into a
ferocious leopard. Somehow Nastassia was always able to combine ferocity
with femininity.
A woman can be totally feminine and yet a complete bore. Femininity is
always most intriguing when it combines with some element that usually not
associated with it. For example, the super-intelligent feminine woman
attracts as well as she repels men. Some find that such a woman serves as a
delightful challenge. Others might fear her or be intimidated. Yet, all are
intrigued by the combination of intelligence and femininity. It’s perhaps
the reason so many men dismiss feminists, particular those who appear butch
or masculine. Intelligence is thought to be their only saving grace, but
even then few are impressed.
Nastassia combined ferocity with femininity. What would I combine to
intrigue Rebecca, or had I already intrigued her?
We were both able to parks our vehicles in front of her apartment. As I
exited from my car, Rebecca made a complimentary remark about my long legs.
I merely smiled, but I understood it was a cue. She was definitely
asserting herself as the dominant female. Her comment suggested she was as
intrigued by my physical dimensions as she was with my looks and my manner of
dress. She was intrigued that a woman who looked so physically powerful
could be so demure, delicate, and dainty. Fragility and femininity -- these
were the elements I decided to combine for the sweet Rebecca.
The apartment was roomy and nicely decorated. The decor was decidedly
masculine, but that was not a surprise. She wanted it to appear more like
the bachelor’s den than a lady’s boudoir. She was successful.
“You can spend the night, if you’d like,” she offered. However, there’s
only one bed.”
“I could sleep on the sofa,” I suggested.
“Sorry, hon’, but there’s not enough room on the sofa for all I want to
do to you.”
“What, precisely, do you intend to do?” I asked, innocently.
Rebecca looked at me directly, and said, “I intend to make love to you
the way a woman wishes a man would make love.”
“But you haven’t the proper equipment.”
“Oh, but I’m full of surprises, darling,” she replied. “I’m full of
surprises.”
She started to undress, hurling her clothes onto the chair in the
bedroom, as if she were a man. She was already presuming my consent.
“I’ll sleep in your bed, Rebecca,” I told her, “but don’t expect
anything more than that.
She smiled.
“I can respect your rejection,” she commented, “but I’m terribly
disappointed.”
“Why so?” I asked.
She burst into laughter, saying, “Girl, have you taken a good look at
yourself lately? I mean, do you he any idea how good you look? I started
drooling the instant I laid eyes on you. I’d be out of my mind, if I didn’t
come after you.”
“Is that right?” I answered, nearly whispering but sending my approval
through a whimsical smile.
“Damn straight,” she nearly shouted.
She then invited me to freshen myself in her bathroom. A fresh face
cloth and bath towel had already been placed on the counter top. It was
clear that she had expected a guest. I washed and excited wearing only my
bra, garter, panty, hose, and heels.
“Damn, girl!” she cried out. “there’s no way, absolutely no way, you
and I can sleep in the same bed together, and I not touch you. I’ll sleep on
the sofa. “Cause I’m freakin’ out just looking at your sexy body.”
Prior to her response, there was a bit of apprehension. As a woman,
approaching a woman is a difficult choice. It’s easy to approach a man and
to offer him sex. It’s easy to accept a man’s request for sex, provided that
a woman is attracted to the man. Women are, however, far more observant and
critical. If nothing else, Rebecca made me feel comfortable with her.
I approached her and kissed her, and then I ran my tongue gently across
her lips. When I withdrew my tongue, she kissed me deeply. Her kiss left me
dazed. Had she not steadied me, I’m certain I would have fallen. It was the
first time I had ever received such enormous passion from a single kiss -- a
kiss delivered by another woman. It was as frightening as it was wondrous.
The music of Chopin played sweetly in the background. The composer most
definitely understood the harmonics of the piano, perhaps as much as he
understood the harmonics of love. Such comprehension is rare in a fast-paced
society. I was deeply moved by the subtleties of her gestures.
While I had freshened myself in the bathroom, Rebecca had lit seven
scented candles. Their scents had filled the room with a delicate fragrance,
and the light was as soft and as sweet as Chopin’s preludes. As do most
women, I revered a lover who could display a sense of roman before making
love.
“Excuse me for just a minute, Roberta,” she said. “I’ll be in the
bathroom for a few minutes and then I’ll join you.”
“I’ll probably be in bed before you get out,” I replied.
“That’ll be fine, hon’,” she answered. “Make yourself comfortable.”
I removed my heels and lied faced down on the bed. There was a book of
poetry on the night stand and I began reading it.
I did not hear Rebecca as she exited from the bathroom. I did, however,
feel her sweet kisses on my bottom. I ignored her, but then she began to
lower my panty. Her kisses were more intimately placed now.
I returned the book to the night stand and turned over to face her. My
bra had already been unfastened and as I turned over, she removed it.
“You have the cutest nipples,” she commented and then giggled. I
giggled too.
“And they’re both so nicely erect,” she said as she leaned forward and
held my left nipple between her lips, pulling on it just enough to tease me.
Then she began fondling each breast while nursing on my left nipple.
Something hard and firm brushed against my thigh. I moved back to take
a look. It was a black strap-on that she had secured to her body while in
the bathroom.
“What do you think of your surprise?” she asked with a smile.
“It’s huge! It looks menacing,” I replied.
Menacing?” she repeated with a questioning tone.
“Well, it’s so long and thick. It arouses me just to look at it.”
“I’ll have to acquaint you with it on a more intimate level then,” she
replied.
I blurted out, “ You have to remember ...”
Before I could finish, she placed her finger on my lips to quiet me, and
said, “All that I remember is that you’re just as much a woman as I. I’ll be
gentle with you. Trust me.”
We looked at each other. No other words were spoken as she moved her
surprise nearer to my lips.
She reciprocate my oral act of submission and brought me to a climax
more intense than I had ever known. Her fingers prepared me for what would
follow -- penetration. She moved slowly, expertly. Feeling her hugeness
inside of me took me to a place where I could anticipate an even greater
level of ecstasy. She did not disappoint me. In fact, she repeated her
embraces three more times that night.
The sun was rising and we exchanged our final kisses and fell into a
blissful sleep.
The End
Roberta Angela Dee RADANGLE@aol.com Back to Transgender Forum's home page
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