tagTransgender & CrossdressersEmily and Steve Ch. 10

Emily and Steve Ch. 10


It took me a long time to get over Emily, but like all pain, eventually it past and I started to want to get into a relationship again.

Before Emily, I had gone out and hooked up with t-girls from the local scene a few times, but never thought of anything serious. My time with Emily had taught me one important thing - I wanted something more than just those casual hook-ups. I wanted a girlfriend, a partner, a wife.

Its hard enough to find that when you are looking for a genetic girl, but when you want a t-girl, its even harder to find.

I knew the clubs in town that had tgirl nights, but those tended to be filled with young tgirls looking to party and have a good time. I was getting too old, and was looking for something too serious for that.

I tried internet dating, but found myself inundated with invitations from "working girls" who were just looking for paid encounters.

I was feeling a bit at a loss of how I was going to meet the girl of my dreams, and then I stumbled upon the answer by pure chance.

One Saturday morning, I went out for a run. I would run the 5 blocks from my place over to the local university, and run through their campus. It was a great place to run because there were few cars, it was nice and green and plus you got to look at all the young co-eds walking around. I may have been looking for a full time relationship with a t-girl, but I didn't mind getting an eyeful of young genetic girls either.

I was running through the campus, and started to do wind-sprints, taking off really quickly for a short burst, and then slowing down to barely a walk. During one of the slow jogs, something on a billboard caught my eye.

"Transgendered Student Association" read the banner along the top, and it then listed a number of lectures on transgendered issues and gender identity.

I went home and checked out the website of the Transgendered Student Association, hoping they might do social nights, but nothing was listed. It did lead me to checking out the courses that the university offered, including courses on gender identity, including masters and doctorate courses.

A young bachelors student probably wouldn't be looking for something serious, I thought, but I bet anyone taking a masters or doctorate would be older, more mature and probably looking for something more serious.

I wasn't going to take a new degree, I had definitely had enough of school, but I did start attending some of the free lectures that were put on. They were quite academic affairs, though some of them were interesting. For me, though, I was scanning the crowds at the events to check out potential dates.

There were a few good looking girls in the crowds. The first few lectures I didn't speak to anyone, but then after the third lecture I had been to, I decided to approach one of the girls. She was about 5 foot 8 with light brown hair, a slim figure and light, white, smooth skin. I asked her about her name (Jenna), and her thoughts on the lecture, and we got to chatting.

"Would you like to grab a coffee some time?" I asked after about 15 minutes of chat.

Jenna agreed, and we went out on a couple of dates. The first date was for coffee and then a walk through the campus. The second date we had dinner and then went to a show put on by the drama society at the university.

I enjoyed the dating, but Jenna and I weren't clicking romantically. After the show, we had a chat and she agreed that it would be best if we were friends, rather than anything more. We've kept in touch, and I get together for a coffee and a chat with Jenna every few weeks.

While things didn't work out romantically with Jenna, it did prove out my plan, though, and I continued to attend the lectures on a periodic basis.

One girl caught my eye. She was beautiful. She was a latina girl, with dark black hair, sparkling brown eyes and olive colored skin. She had a beautiful slim body with a nice, round ass. She was about five and a half feet tall, and I guessed she was probably late 20s.

I saw her at a couple of the lectures, but never got a chance to speak to her afterwards. She always seemed to rush away before I got a chance to catch her.

However, my shot with her came due to a lucky break. In addition to my plan of attending the lectures, I also started to show up on occasion at the university book store. The books for the gender identity courses were just by little cafe, so I could sit in the cafe, sip a coffee and stake out the books, in the event any girls came over to pick up some books for their courses.

One Saturday, as I sat reading through the newspaper, sipping a coffee and keeping one eye on the book shelf, the beautiful Latina t-girl came into the shop. She walked over to the book shelf and started browsing through a couple of books. Time to make my move.

I wandered over, and suddenly I was gripped by fear. I realised I didn't have a decent opening line. At least at the lectures I could ask about the lecture. Here, what was I going to say? I decided simply on "Hi."

The girl looked up. "Hello," she said. She looked back down, but when it was clear I hadn't moved on, she looked back up, and then tilted her head to the side. "I have seen you before," she said. "You have been to a few of the lectures that the Transgendered Student Association puts on."

I smiled. A connection! "Yes, I have," I said. My voice cracked as I spoke. I realised my mouth was dry as a bone, and I could feel my hands shaking. God, I was a nervous wreck.

"Are you studying here?" she asked. I replied that I wasn't, I was just interested in the topic.

"Oh, do you know someone who is transgendered," she asked. "We don't get a lot of people coming to the lectures who aren't students or transgendered themselves."

"I used to date a girl who was transgendered," I said. Panic. I shouldn't have mentioned an ex-girlfriend! Stupid! "But, we aren't together anymore," I quickly stammered out.

The girl smiled. "Well, are you coming to the next lecture?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," I said, trying to play it cool.

"Well, you should, I here the lecturer is going to be excellent." The girl reached up and pulled down a book from the shelf. "She will be discussing her work from this book," the Latina girl said. "You should check it out."

With that, the girl turned and started to walk away. She turned back after a few steps and said, "hope to see you at the next lecture. Bye."

I looked down at the book. It had a long academic title, "Measurement of Counselling Constructs within Gender Identity Analysis Technics" and was written by Danielle Gabriel, PhD candidate at the university. I flipped the book over, and on the back was a picture of the author. It was, of course, the girl I was just talking to.

So I attended the next lecture. I was pretty sure that Danielle smiled when she saw me as she scanned the crowd at the start of the lecture. I must admit, I didn't follow the lecture much at all. It was a lot of numbers and graphs and discussions of "outcomes", but I found Danielle engaging. Just listening to her speak was an enjoyable experience.

After the lecture finished, I hung around. A lot of people were going up and talking to Danielle about the lecture, so I hung back. Finally the crowd thinned out, and I was able to get up and speak to her.

"Great lecture," I said.

"Really, did you understand it," she asked.

"Not a word," I said, laughing. "Too much complex math for me."

"If you aren't interested in statistical analysis methods of counselling outcomes, why did you come to the lecture," she asked, a wry smile on her face.

"I was hoping to ask you out," I said.

She stood there silently, but with a smile. Finally, after 30 seconds of silence, I said, "So?"

"I am waiting for you to ask me out," she said.

I laughed. "Okay, do you want to go out on a date with me?" I asked.

Danielle agreed, and we went and got a coffee that evening. She told me about her background. She was from Arizona originally, born into a family of immigrants from Guatemala. Her parents were nice but didn't understand her, so Danielle had a tough childhood due to her feeling like a girl trapped in boy's body. She left home at 14, spent a few years wandering until she was lucky enough to wind up in an alternative school in town, which arranged for a host family to put her up. Allowed to be herself at the school, she academically blossomed, finishing her high school diploma, doing a Bachelors degree in Psychology and Statistics, a Masters in Psychology and now working on her doctorate. She was 27, and most importantly, single.

We parted that evening with a plan to meet again, and a hug.

The next date we went to a Cuban-fusion restaurant, and spent more time talking. Our first date, Danielle did most of the talking, prompted by my questions. This time, Danielle grilled me. We covered my upbringing, and why I chose to move to a city so far away from any of my family, which I answered because I didn't feel I could be myself and pursue the type of girls I wanted back home.

"What type of girls are those?" Danielle asked.

I blushed. "Girls like you," I said. "Transgendered girls."

"What are you looking for, Steve," she asked. "Are you just looking to get laid?"

"No," I said. "Not at all. I have done that, but now I want something more. I want to find someone to share my life with. God, that sounds hokey, but its true. I want a girlfriend, and then hopefully a wife."

"A transgendered wife," Danielle said, posing it as a question.

"Yes," I replied.

"What if that wife wants to get sexual reassignment surgery, would you still want her as a wife?" She asked.

I had thought about this a few times. I was attracted to women with penises. What if they wanted to have a sex change? "I don't know," I said, truthfully. "I know what physically I like, and it is a girl who is still... who still..." I stammered.

"Has her penis," Danielle said, bailing me out.

"Yes," I said. "But if I truly loved someone, I would hope that our emotional connection would transcend the mere physical."

Danielle just smiled at my answer, before saying, "I don't plan to get sexual reassignment surgery. I'm happy with my body and all its parts as it is now."

Danielle then changed the subject to one that made me blush and stammer even more. "So tell me about this ex-girlfriend of yours who was transgendered, the one you mentioned in the book store."

I told the story of Emily and I as best I could, trying not to sound like I still have feelings for her, but also trying to sound like it had been serious. I wanted to show Danielle that I could have a serious relationship with a t-girl.

Over desert, the grilling stopped and the mood turned playful. We discussed hobbies, and it turned out that one of Danielle's hobbies was salsa dancing.

"I'm not much of a dancer," I said.

"Oh, I am sure I could teach you," she replied.

"Does that mean our next date will be dancing?" I asked.

Danielle laughed. "Jumping ahead and making presumptions about future dates. You are quite sure of yourself."

In the end, we did agree on a third date, and it would be salsa dancing. The night ended with me walking Danielle back to her apartment, and giving her a quick kiss on the lips.

The salsa dancing was amazing. Danielle showed up in a short summer dress, fully made up and looking beautiful. So far, our dates had all been quite cerebral. The salsa dancing was quite physical. Our bodies constantly brushing and touching each other. Our eyes locking into gazes as we moved close. There were times when I thought my knees would buckle from under me, not because of the physical strain of the dancing, but from the electric shocks of passion in having Danielle close to me.

At the end of the night, I walked Danielle home, and this time our kiss on the doorstep lasted much longer. She held herself close to me as our lips interlocked and our tongues darted into each other's mouths. We kissed for minutes before Danielle said, breathless both from the dancing and the kissing, said "let's go upstairs."

We entered her apartment, and before the door had closed she slipped off her summer dress. She was wearing a pair of black panties and a black bra. I nearly fainted with desire. She held herself against me, and I wrapped my arms around her torso. I could feel the thin layer of glistening sweat that covered her from the dancing. I pressed my hips against her, pushing my now erect cock against her crotch. Even through the layers of fabric of my trousers and her panties, I could feel my hard cock rubbing against hers.

"I need to shower," she said, "clean off the sweat from the dancing. Make yourself comfortable, I'll be out in a minute."

She went into the bathroom, but left the door slightly ajar. I heard the shower start.

I couldn't wait. I peeled off my clothes, and entered the bathroom. I pulled back the shower curtain, and climbed into the shower with Danielle. She didn't say a word, simply embraced me and we kissed again. This time, our naked bodies allowed our two cocks, both rock hard, to rub together freely.

We broke off the kiss, and Danielle poured some bath gel into her hands. I held out my hand, and she poured some in mine as well. We then started to rub the lather onto each other's bodies. We both slowly explored down each other's bodies, taking time to caress the shoulders, the arms, the chest and the stomach of the other until we reached the groin.

I wrapped my hand gently around her erect, uncut penis. I slowly stroked the cock back and forth, looking down as I pulled back the skin to reveal her red cock head.

Danielle's hand wrapped around my cock, and stroked it slowly. she covered every inch of my cock with the soapy lather of the bath gel before turning away from me. With her remaining lather, she soaped up her butt crack and asshole, before pushing herself back against my erect cock.

I rubbed my cock up and down the crack of her ass, reaching around my hand to slowly stroke her dick as well. I started to feel my cock quiver, so I grabbed it with my hand and pressed it against her asshole, pressing slowly but firmly until it opened up and my cock slide inside.

Daneille bent over slightly, the water from the shower running over her head and down her back as I pressed myself in and out of her ass. Neither of us said a word, the only sounds were the water hitting the tub from the shower head, and the occasional breathy moan from either of us.

I pushed into her slowly at first, but as the passion built up inside me, I started pumping harder and faster. Danielle pressed herself back against me.

I felt the orgasm well up in my cock. "Oh God," I cried, pressing myself deep inside Danielle as the cum came shooting out of my cock and deep inside her ass.

Fully spent, Danielle turned around and we kissed, allowing the hot water to run over our bodies, and massage our tired bodies.

* * *

Danielle and I had been going out for about six months when I ran into Emily. I had headed out to the suburbs of town, where there is a shopping mall with all the fancy shops. After finishing lunch at the food court, I was heading down to the main level to continue my shopping. There she was, at the bottom of the steps.

I wasn't sure what to do. I thought about just walking on by, but then Emily looked up and saw me coming down on the escalator. So at the bottom of the escalator, I walked over to her.

"Hi," I said, hands in my pockets shrugging my shoulders slightly.

Emily smiled, a sad kind of smile. "Hi Steve, how are you?"

"Good, good," I said, my voice trailing off. I wasn't sure how I should act. In fact, I wasn't sure how I felt. It was a weird experience. Lots of emotions filled me. I was sad to be reminded of a painful period in my life, angry at Emily for what she had done to me, but also felt a connection and kindness towards her at the same time. I even felt a little bit of guilt - like I was somehow cheating on Danielle in just speaking to Emily.

"Steve, I need to say how sorry I am about how things ended," Emily said. "I never wanted to hurt you, and I know that I acted in a way that could only lead to your being hurt."

"It's okay," I said, looking down.

"No, it's not okay," she said. "We were at different points in our lives, Steve. You were looking to settle down, and I was just learning to embrace life as a woman. I never had a chance to be young and crazy and adventurous as a woman before. I had more than 20 years worth of experiences in my correct gender to pick up on. I needed to get out and experience all those things. I needed to find out who I was. We were never going to work out with such different goals."

I nodded.

Emily continued, "but I should have been honest with you. The relationship we had was what allowed me to start on that journey, and I really owed it to you to be honest with you. Instead, I went behind your back, creating a new life for myself - both professionally with my design courses and personally with the dancing and drugs and sex. I should have done the honourable thing and split up with you before I started all that, but I didn't want to hurt you, and in doing so just ended up hurting you more."

Emily's eyes were starting to well with tears. I took my hands out of my pockets, and wrapped them around her. "Emily, I forgive you," I said. "Can you forgive me for pressuring you to settle down?"

Emily, tears streaming down her face, nodded. "Thank you," she said softly.

I held Emily for a couple of minutes until her tears subsided. She was cried out, and I felt all the emotions float away. I wasn't angry or sad anymore.

"How are you?" I asked. "What are you doing now?"

"I am good," Emily said. "No, actually I am great. I am in my second year of my industrial design course, and I love it, Steve. I wish I had done it sooner. It just fits so well with my personality and my mindset. I can't believe I hadn't done it sooner."

"That's great," I said.

"I've also settled down a bit, you'll be happy to hear. I'm through with my phase of getting stoned, going to clubs and hooking up with strangers every night."

"Good," I said. I felt a lump in my throat as I asked the next question, but felt I had to. "Are you seeing anyone?"

"No," Emily said, shaking her head. "No. I don't think the time is right for that now. I still have a lot of me to work on. I want to get my degree and start working as an industrial designer before I go down the path of dating again. What about you? Are you seeing anyone?"

"Yes," I said. "A girl named Danielle. She is a doctoral candidate at the university, doing a PhD on gender identity."

"So she is a t-girl," Emily asked. "...like me?" she added.

"Yes, she is," I replied.

"And are you happy?" Emily asked.

"Very." I said. It was true, I was happy.

We chatted a bit more, and then parted ways. Emily gave me her phone number, which I programmed into my phone. But then, after we parted, I went back into my phone and deleted it. Maybe someday I could be friends with Emily, but for now I think I'll let it slide.

Instead, I decided to concentrate on why I had come to the mall in the first place. I needed to go to the jewellery store.

I had an engagement ring to buy.

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