Saving Justina Ch. 01

Hi all. This is my first of hopefully many submissions. This is the first chapter in a slow burn romance. I don't know how many chapters there will be. There will be lots of smut but it will take a while to get there. Happy reading!

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My life only really got started at 18. I don't know who my parents are or if they're even still alive. I was left on the doorstep of a church run orphanage in Southern Ireland, about 30 miles from Cork. I didn't even have a name. They christened me Luke, a good catholic biblical name. And was given the surname McCleary. This surname was commonly given to abandoned children taken in by the church. Life in the orphanage was hard. Religion was shoved down your throat along with the god awful food and I don't know which was worse. I wasn't terribly good at school or sports. My only escape was my art. I drew when I was happy, I drew when I was sad. I just drew. Father O'Hara, the priest or more accurately cunt who ran the place took pride in tearing my drawings up and telling me I would amount to nothing and I'd never earn a living from art. He said I should embrace Christ and spend my time praying instead. I didn't share his views that that was a viable career option.

At 18 I left with nothing to my name. I scrounged my way to London and went door to door for a couple of days at every pub until I begged someone enough for a job. I volunteered to work extra hours and even an extra day a week for free as long as they let me crash in the store room until I could afford somewhere. It was a great deal for the owner and it was better than the alternative for me. As long as I was working I was warm and could scrounge food from the kitchens. Whether I was getting a wage or not I soon found out didn't really matter as tips was where the real money was at. Being 6'3, jet black hair, piercing blue eyes and blessed with Irish craic and accent. Tips were good.

I even started dating a colleague, a polish girl called Agata. At the time I'd thought I'd hit the jackpot now I realize what a mistake that was.

Agata was a toxic anchor around my neck. Holding me back and poisoning me at the same time. I never made any friends of my own. She made sure that wouldn't happen. She constantly made me feel not good enough for her and that I should be kissing the ground she walked on. I'd like to say at least she was stunning or the sex was amazing. But she wasn't and the sex like most of our relationship was very one sided, with me doing all the work. I was with her for 7 years. I don't think I had a single blowjob for the last 2.

Despite me having to serve her royal bitchiness I managed to put myself through art school during the days and work nights. All Agata had to say about it was I should drop out because I wasn't giving her enough attention.

I got a job as a graphic designer after I graduated but went freelance a year later. Despite now being available to her 24/7, and making much more money than her I still was made to feel like I was worthless.

Finally the penny dropped and I told her I was dumping her. She flipped and assaulted me. She called me the most vile things, before telling all of our mutual friends, or rather her friends I was allowed to socialise with, that I used to hit her.

So for the last 4 years I've been working alone at home. No friends, no colleagues. No social life to speak of. Just me and my art working round the clock, doing the work of a 4 man team. I made a bucketload of money. Bought my own 2 bed place and paid it off, which for outskirts of London was an accomplishment.

Despite my accomplishments I hit a crisis. I was lonely. I had just turned 31, no friends, no colleagues or social life. With the house paid off. Even work was losing its lustre. What was I working for, another house? I could only live in one and even that was more than I thought I'd ever have. Two seemed greedy. I already had a bedroom I never ventured in. I finally decided to rent out the spare room. Not for the money, but for the possibility of more human contact.

That very week while I was browsing a Facebook group for listings in my area trying to figure out what the going rates were, I came across the post that would change my life.

It was from a Justin H from 37 minutes ago and read:

'HELP URGENT. Looking for immediate lodging. Can only afford 300 a month and no deposit. Looking for anything in North/east London.'

I knew with the going rates in the area this person was in the shit. He was unlikely to find anything and sounded desperate. Having had to sleep rough once or twice myself when I first moved to London, I didn't want this young man to go through the same.

I sent him a dm and set up a meeting for him to come check out the room.

An hour later he was at the door.

He certainly didn't look like a Justin. He was barely 5'5, small frame. He had jet black hair like me but his was much longer tied up into a man bun. His skin was a caramel color from my guess he looked middle eastern. He also had high cheekbones and two small diamond studs in his ears. He had a big pack back and small hand-held suitcase with him.

"Hey Justin?" I asked

"Yeah, Mr McCleary?"

"Please, Luke." We stood just looking at each other in the doorway. "Err sorry come in come in."

"Would you like a drink? Water?"

"Err sure." He said. I poured and handed him a glass and stood there awkwardly. For some reason I couldn't take my eyes off him. I wanted to know everything about this person and what led him to being in the position he's in. He similarly was staring back at him looking very uncomfortable. Finally I said "Look I'm sorry I've never done this. I've never rented the room before I don't know how these things go."

"Oh, well, in truth, neither do I and you're my first... my only offer."

"I'm not surprised. Most people want a safety deposit. I can tell you're in a rough spot. I've been there once. You promise to be respectful the room is yours."

"Thank you sir".

"Sir? That's worse than Mr McCleary. Here let me show you the room." I joked trying to lighten the mood.

I led him to the bedroom and showed it to him. He didn't seem to walk he glided with elegance and grace. Where as the footsteps from my large 6'3 frame were clunky.

"Oh wow this is really nice." He said as showed him the decent sized double bedroom.

"And you can use the main bathroom. I have an ensuite so I only really use that one." I said leading him to it and opening it up. It had a full bath which I had not used once and a full shower as well.

"Ok what's the catch?" He said.

"Huh? Excuse me?" I replied.

"You could rent this for double what I can pay you. No deposit. You've not asked for any reference or anything. You got cameras up in here or something? What's the catch?"

"Cameras? Just on the door. And there is no catch." He stared at me not believing me so I elaborated. "Look the rooms been empty since I got the place. I work from home." I pointed to my work station in the living room. "I've been alone in this place day in day out. The rooms just sitting there. I was considering renting it and then I saw your post and saw you were in a jam, thought I'd do a good thing. You keep it clean, pay what you can and just say 'hi' to me every once in a while that's all."

He was a little dumbfounded at my directness and didn't respond.

"So you want it or not?"

"Ye...yeah I'll take it?" He sputtered out. I could tell he was still a little unsure but I know he had little option.

"Cool, I assume you want to move in right away? Do you need help moving stuff?"

He bowed his head shamefully. "No actually this is it. I haven't got anything else"

I nodded. Realizing this was a difficult conversation for him to have with someone he just met.

He then went to his back pack and opened up a pouch and started counting out 20s trying to scrounge together rent money. I put my hand up.

"1st of the month. You can have the first 11-12 days as a trial period. If you want to stay, I'll draw up a contract. That will give you more rights." I turned to walk away to leave him get settled in his room and he called out.

"Hey Luke... thanks"

For the next week things were a little stiff but I still enjoyed having the distraction of someone in the house. He came and went to work in the morning. Saying hi whenever he passed me in the living room. Things loosened up one evening when I saw him pouring himself a bowl of cereal in the evening. It occurred to me I'd never seen him cook a meal.

"Hey Justin, have you had a proper dinner? I haven't seen you cook anything?"

"No, I get food at work."

"What do they cook you?" I probed.

"They give us pastries and fruit and stuff."

I thought to myself, this guy hasn't had a proper meal in a week. I got up from my position at my workstation. "Right, I got frozen bolognese sauce I can cook with some spaghetti or on a jacket potato or some left over chicken Tikka Masala."

"It's ok you don't have to."

"I want to. Now sit." I waited for him to sit at the table. "Now which do you want?"

"Spaghetti bolognese sounds lovely thanks."

I fired up a pan and started boiling water in the kettle. As I cooked I took the opportunity to finally talk to him and get him to open up.

I found out he worked as a temp at a local office firm that did a lot of corporate finance stuff. His job was just fetching stuff. For what essentially was less than minimum wage and 'experience'. At least in my early jobs I got tips. He was hoping to work hard enough to be offered a full-time position.

I asked about family and he froze up a little clearly not comfortable. In an effort to relax him I told him about my experience.

"Look I'd tell you about mine but I haven't got oneNever had one to begin with. I was abandoned as a baby at an orphanage. Never met my parents. I've got no family or friends even. I had a for years girlfriend who was incredibly toxic and kept me isolated from everyone and when it ended she lied to our mutual friends to turn them against me. So, if your situation is bleaker than mine then you're really in the shit."

He chuckled a bit and apologized "Sorry I shouldn't have laughed. I was thrown out by my parents. Well my dad. My mum stood there and did nothing. My dad is a staunch Muslim and he found out that I was.... erm"

I took a guess from his fashion sense; which consisted of mostly loose fitting off the shoulder sweaters and tightish jeans, as well as his general demeanour. "Homosexual?"

"...yeah. That obvious huh?"

"More of a hunch. Justin doesn't seem like a very Muslim name either."

"Well my name is actually Mohammed Hosseiniu, but for a non-practicing Muslim. It's not ideal."

"Bet your dad wasn't too happy about that too."

"Actually, he accepted that, begrudgingly. My mum is Greek. She officially converted to marry him but she's hardly a practicing Muslim herself. She's still more of an orthodox if she had to honest with herself. Me being.... was a step too far for him and not sure if she was particularly pleased with it either."

"And you had nowhere else to go?"

"Well I had a boyfriend my all through my first year at uni. I went to him, but he said; and I quote 'didn't think moving in together was the right move for us.' So fuck him. He's gone"

"Wow, well I'll be damned. Looks like your family and relationship history IS a as bad as mine. You win our special prize of a lifetime of abandonment issues."

"Told you."

"So what happened to uni then?"

"Can't afford it. I'm cut off I had to drop out. To be honest not a big loss. I had no idea what I was doing anyway. I don't really have a purpose yet. I might go back but for now I'm just trying to survive"

"Well, I only went to art college when I was 23 and things turned out ok. What are you 19? You've got plenty of time."

After that the conversation started to flow more freely. We made more small talk, we talked about my art and I found out that he liked those god awful reality shows. Big brother, I'm a Celebrity, love island you name it. I told him that he was free to watch in the living room as long as my favourite football team wasn't playing. He was very grateful for that.

"Bon appetite, I said laying the plate in front of him."

With a full mouth he said. "This is so good. You can really cook."

"Ah that's nothing. One of the easiest things to make. Living alone for such a long time I got sick of living out of take away packets so I decided to teach myself how to cook. Dead easy. Pop a YouTube video on and copy what they do. After a number of them you start to get a feel for things."

"I can't cook much" he said almost ashamedly.

"It's fine. I love cooking and cooking for 2 is the same work as cooking for one. Sometimes easier. I'll happily cook a meal for you in exchange for conversation. In fact ill add it as an amendment to your contract."

"That sounds like a much better deal for me than you. Deal, before you change your mind."

And this began our friendship. For the next month we settled into a routine of having dinner together and then sitting on the couch watching tv. I hate to admit it I even enjoyed sitting through some of the crass reality shows, I really enjoyed his company.

One day sitting in the couch over a bottle of wine we were talking about nothing in particular and just the way he was sat with his legs crossed on the couch. Wearing one of those oversized sweaters. He was just talking and laughing. And making these over the top mannerisms with his hands. Just seeing him smile made me happy. It made me think if he was a woman I'd want to date this person. Looking deeply at his face, he certainly was pretty enough. I had to snap myself out of that thought. Could I possibly be gay?

That night, I thought about it long and hard in bed that night and settled on the fact I wasn't. As much as I cared for this young man. I just wasn't sexually attracted to men. Strangely I felt disappointed at that, if only he was a woman.

In late November I was dealing with a particular client based in Liverpool that were very keen to have me come up and meet me in person to discuss a big project they were launching. They paid for my train up and we're putting me up for 2 nights in a nearby hotel. Justin had been living with me for about 3 months at that point. I cooked a couple meals for him for when I was gone and set off for Liverpool. I even told him he was welcome to have some friends over as long as he took care of the place. He assured me that would not happen.

The first night. I received a notification at 11pm on my phone about someone on the door camera. I opened it up to see a woman walking away from the camera.

I thought to myself that Justin had decided to have someone over after all. I saw her walk away in heels and a skirt visible under a leather jacket. Damn she had a nice ass too. Why do gay guys get to be friends with the hottest girls? I thought nothing more of it and went to sleep.

The next morning I woke up and checked the notifications on my phone. There was another notification on my phone for the door camera this time for 4.32am. I opened it up and I saw the same sexy woman this time approaching the door. She had her hair down and straight, wearing the same leather jacket. From the front I could tell her skirt was actually part of a stripy blue dress with a deep v to show off a little bit of cleavage from some small tits. She was carrying her heels in her hand this time. As she got closer and closer she seemed familiar. She reached into her pocket and got out the keys. As she put them into the lock her face turned slightly and I finally got a good look at her face.

Her face was all made up. With mascara, and lipstick, but it was no doubt who it was. It was Justin.

I couldn't believe it. Justin dresses up as a woman? Was he a crossdresser? Was it a one time thing? Has he done this before? And why oh why, was I hard as fucking granite.

It played on my mind all day. I could barely focus. At one point I thought I'd lose the client as a result as I kept zoning out through their bullshit branding philosophy presentation. Later that night. My last in Liverpool my phone buzzed with a door notification again. My stomach lurched and I dove on the phone to open it up. It was Justin again, in his female form. Tonight he wore what looked like leather or leather effect trousers and a crop top. As he put on his jacket and scarf just outside the door. Once again his hair was down and loose. What surprised me was again it seemed like Justin had cleavage. It occurred to me that Justin always wore really loosely fitting clothes and always got dressed in the bathroom. I had put it down to a fashion choice and hi. Just being modest. But now it had me wondering. The first time I'm out of town and he goes out dressed as a woman not once but both nights. Did he want to do this more often? Was I holding him back from expressing himself? And why for the love of god was I so hard!

I fired up my laptop and opened up a porn site. I clicked the drop-down for categories and one of the first alphabetically was Arab. Not my usual go to but I found my mouse hovering over it for a while. 'Was I that turned on by Justin dressed up as a woman?'

I chickened out of browsing through Arab videos lest I found myself looking for a lookalike. A run of the mill blowjob video from one of my trusty pornstars did the trick. I thought that would be enough to get me to go to sleep. However, an hour later, still unable to sleep, I found myself needing relief again. I took my phone this time and started browsing slowly stroking myself. I browsed for ages not finding anything that really did the trick. As I went to change category again, I for the first time really, noticed the 'straight' tab on the side. Tapping it the options 'gay' and 'trans' came up. A cold sweat went over me. 'Fuck it.' I said and clicked trans. A lot of videos were god awful. A lot of trans women who did not look like women at all. Videos with titles such as 'Trans Woman sodomizes her boyfriend with her monster cock' were also not appealing to me.

Just when I thought I'd got this out of my system and was about to venture back to straight porn. I came across a video. A young brunette. Not only could she pass for a woman but she was hotter than most straight pornstars. It started with her blowing a guy. It was hot and she was damn good. However, I reasoned with myself that this was no different from straight porn I watched. A Hot girl blowing a guy, I hadn't even seen her cock yet. Then the scene transitioned. She was on her side legs wide open to give the camera a full view of her. The guy was behind her spooning her his cock about to enter her ass.

I couldn't take my eyes off it. It was the hottest thing I'd seen. This gorgeous woman getting fucked anally. But in the middle of the shot was a penis. Her penis. It was bizarre yet thrilling. I was stroking myself methodically in rhythm with the video. Then she came. He hadn't even touched her cock she just came from him fucking her. All over her stomach, and I came too, all over mine. It was a massive orgasm despite it being my second session of the evening. I got up to clean myself off in the bathroom looked myself in the mirror and realized then. I think I have a thing for trans women.

I never brought up what I saw on the cameras to Justin even after returning home. I never could work up the courage.

A couple more weeks went by went by sticking to our same routine. Justin never once went out for an evening as he had done when I was away. We were in the lead up to Christmas now and with neither of us having any plans or family to go to, we were planning on spending Christmas together.

I was planning a decedent feast for the two of us. With a beef roast for main. We were just a couple of days before Christmas and I needed to go out to buy the last of the ingredients I needed. Our local supermarket was walking distance away about 5 minutes. I didn't own a car you don't really need one if you live in London.