The Bus

On the ride Jon considered how the past day had change many things. Yesterday he was a little lonely, with plans for a blind date with his Aunt's neighbor. Now he was falling for a lovely woman from the bus ride under the river. They talked as the black car entered the tunnel to Manhattan.

Mattie spoke on the ride of her studies as an art minor in college. She was happy that Jon had agreed to come to the exhibit but understood that his knowledge of the great artists' work was spare.

"I'll be your guide and teacher then Jon," they sat close in the back seat of the large car with Jon again enjoying looking at Mattie's lovely legs.

Last evening, they had shared some history and details, but there was never a pause in their conversation. She had a great laugh and her voice sounded like music to Jon's ears. She had moved to the New Jersey side of the Hudson almost ten months ago, but her new job with an ad agency, was on Seventh Avenue near Thirtieth Street.

"The rent in the City was too high and I wanted better light, so Weehawken called to me," Mattie said.

Jon spoke of a similar reason, "Our office has a major client near the Trade Center and though our office is on Fiftieth Street I find that getting downtown for early morning meetings is easier with the Ferry. The boats are much faster than the subway."

When they were close to the museum Mattie saw a food-cart with special salads, and they decided to have a sort of picnic on the low stonewall near the cart. A few minutes before one o'clock they were in the Que for the show. They spent the next two hours looking at the works from the pre-nineteen twenties.

Mattie stopped at a large nude-toned painting of five women.

"These women represent the objects of desire, almost the male gaze," she whispered, trying to explain the composition to Jon, the non-art student.

"Notice the central figure, the one with her hand behind," Mattie indicated.

"Yeah, okay Mattie, on her head," Jon said as he saw Mattie bending to mimic the pose.

"But her pose would be as if she was lying down, though the artist presents her as standing," Mattie was bending backward and Jon saw her cleavage as the dress bodice opened, and the white lace of her brasserie. He was aroused, again.

Jon moved a little closer to the artwork hoping she would not notice his boner.

He spoke quietly, "The middle one appears to be wearing," he said, as Mattie saw Jon step closer to the canvas.

Mattie was beside him now, "A panty," she said softly, "As the artist intended to abandon tradition Jon. Feminine beauty is glaring at you."

He stood looking, as Mattie moved to another piece of art. His erection had subsided, and he walked towards her. He still had her beauty to consider, carefully.

"Let's get a glass of wine Jon, now that you look presentable. The bar is this way," she seemed to know the building well.

"Sure," Jon said as he followed her.

"I visit several times a year with a student pass," Mattie turned quickly and explained, "It is my old roommate's actually. She had to move to London, so she transferred it to me."

Looking around as they walked, Jon didn't think the hall they entered led to the bar, and he noticed that Mattie was looking about, then she pushed him behind a stairway overhang.

Her lips came to his as her fingers reached down to his pants, and she rubbed Jon's semi-hardness. Then she looked into his eyes and she lowered his pant zipper.

"I know how to solve this problem Jon," she softly said as she dropped to her knees, as her fingers disappeared into his trousers. Mattie now held his dick, and he was quite hard, as she pulled it free, and her deeply colored red lips quickly covered his fat cock.

"Mattie, oh god, what if," Jon moaned as her hand grasped the base of his shaft. He looked about quickly with concern, but then he focused on how calm Mattie looked, as her soft mouth and tongue gave him pleasure.

"Quiet down you," she removed his member and then kissed it, "you big, big boy," her palm glided down, "I wanted to settle you, and Jon, your cock is mine now," Mattie said between licks of Jon's stiff rod.

She licked him as he again looked about. They were concealed, and now he saw that the spot was well selected; not private but discrete.

"Oh god Mattie," Jon whispered as she sucked on his turgid cock. She was looking up at him and smiling as she suckled on his hard prick. Jon was very close to orgasm, and Mattie's right hand was pumping his length, while her left fingers held his nuts. She had just the big purple head between her lips now.

"I'm going to, ahhhhh, Mattie!" he groaned as quietly as possible.

She held him within her mouth for a few moments longer, but Jon felt her finger move back, and she teased the skin at his anus as he shot off. When the pulsing spurts stopped, Jon saw Mattie smiling as she kissed and licked his softening shaft. A minute later, she was standing.

Jon watched her tongue lick her lips, and she pulled a small tissue from somewhere.

Mattie smiled and she came to his side, lightly rubbing his pants.

"Zipper up," she said as his fingers pulled his pants closed.

"Anyway, I sucked you off Jon. I like to taste a man before I reveal my body and life details," she said as she moved off, but turned.

"Guys are usually the lead, so kill me," she said as she reached and pushed the back of Jon's shirt in, as he hadn't done the back edge, and then her hand slipped to the front of his boxers.

"Nice penis," she said as she looked up into Jon's eye.

Jon smiled as Mattie explained her ribald behavior.

"I tend to like more control Jon," he watched as Mattie used the tissue to wipe her lips.

Then she pulled a small mirror out and checked her face. The tube of lipcolor moved across those sexy soft lips so quickly Jon almost missed the action, but she looked great. All in nearly a blink, a moment, and he just stood in amazement.

"Let's get that wine okay?" she said, and she took hold of Jon's hand.

As they walked from the stairway hiding space a security guard turned and winked at them, but Mattie smiled back and blew him a kiss.

"Good afternoon sir," she said.

Once in the bar the two relaxed on the tall stools, talking of the snapshots Mattie had made of her favorite paintings and drawings.

"This one, see his control of the line from his mind is incredible. I love that he made himself special," Mattie said.

"He would study other painters as a means of discerning what his view and approach would be," Mattie continued.

"When he had prepared and had assembled his personal view he exploded on the scene. I think there are many normal people that do so as well, but they don't need or receive the recognition," Jon smiled as her presentation continued.

Her views on art were new to him, but Jon listened as the barkeep brought the small dish of crab and a second glass of wine for both. After the pause at the bar, Mattie suggested a quick, second pass of the artwork. When they were again near the stair, he saw the small camera, mounted high on the wall, and Mattie saw it as well.

"Somehow, no one interfered. Maybe the camera isn't monitored," Mattie snickered.

She pulled Jon close as they walked into the main lobby, "Who cares. I got what I needed, did you Jon?"

Jon smiled as they left the museum, "Yes, but this past day has been unique. Mattie, you are exceptional, the next stop?" he asked.

She suggested a walk down into the courtyard of Rockefeller Center. They enjoyed the day visiting other spots in the City and returned across the river after nine that evening. Jon remembered the date tomorrow.

"Mattie I can try and cancel an event, so that we can be together tomorrow," he said.

Jon didn't share the details, but she said that she had nothing important planned.

"Maybe we can see each other, on Monday, for the Holiday," he suggested. "The Fireworks along the river at least?" Jon asked as he held her close, and they kissed again.

"Yes Jon, Monday, but not tonight. I needed to be with you today, but Sunday is a quiet time for me," she said.

He wondered what she meant but this, but she kissed him again. They were walking back from the Ferry and were near her apartment.

"Jon I should tell you something important," Mattie had stopped and took hold of both of his hands.

Jon could see she was nervous, as she squeezed his fingers tightly. Standing inches apart with both of her hands in his he saw a concern in her lovely eyes. As she looked at Jon, he saw the moisture of a tear forming as she still held his hands.

"What is it Mattie? Have I done something to offend you?" Jon asked.

She started to speak, but a sob caused her lip to quiver.

"No Jon, I'll be fine. It's just that my past is necessary to be," she quivered and turned to look away briefly.

"Jon, Martha wasn't my name at birth. It was Samuel, but now it is Martha, or even Mattie, but not Sam. I became a girl Jon, ahh, just about thirty months ago," she squeezed his fingers hard, at the word 'girl'.

Jon listen and heard these words, but he didn't process the meaning immediately, as she held his hands tightly. She was speaking of her transition, as he wondered what it might mean.

She saw his confusion, as the idea settled in Jon's head, and his eyes may have revealed something.

"Yes Jon, I am a transgender woman," but her words were now clear, and she had regained her confidence.

Martha explained that she withheld her history yesterday, as she might see him again on the bus or around town.

"I need to protect myself, to be certain, who knows the details Jon," her face had tears running down her cheeks.

Martha continued but with passion, "I can share this with whom I desire Jon, and I want you," but she stopped speaking.

Somehow, he didn't respond with his hands, except for the sweat that was forming on his palms.

After almost a minute she said, "Jon, please, say something, anything," as she began to cry, but Jon realized that he was perplexed.

"Mattie, ahh, I'll be okay, well, I mean, it's a surprise, Martha," but now he moved close and tried to hold her.

Jon couldn't say more, as he considered her, and there was a brief hug, then she pulled away, but Jon was still a little shaken, and unable to speak. He did not want to reveal something bad; he just was befuddled. Jon again moved closer, but now she released his hands. Jon felt himself moving close and he reached to hold her, but hers wasn't a true hug now. Jon was anxious about how she would respond, but also puzzled by his passive condition, as he remained. A girl with a penis; did she have a penis he thought to himself? This beautiful person, wearing a dress, with wonderful soft lips and breasts, who had blown his prick this afternoon, but now she was crying as his arms loosely held her.

"It is okay, I mean, I had hoped you," Martha said, though she was weeping, "You won't be, be revolted by me, Jon. Others are, and my family was clear. I was wrong to them." She cried softly with her head turn away.

"So, I fully assume that after tonight, I may not see or hear from you. Your arms feel wonderful even as you are a little wary," she moaned softly.

Jon thought of how to make this better, but her sense of his reaction was on target. He was guarded.

Finally, Jon spoke, "Martha, I appreciate that you have shared this," but his voice was too strong.

"I, I am of course, more than a little surprised. A beautiful girl asked me to have a drink, and now we have spent the twenty-three hours of the last thirty together. You are a wonderful, beautiful girl, to me," but now he just couldn't speak, and he was quiet, trying to not stiffen his back.

She moved away slightly, "No Jon, your buts are about to be said. It is fine if you don't understand, and I don't need to hear any lies from you. Nor do I want to be coddled by anyone, especially you. I can hope for more from you, but you may choose to run away. So please save any excuses, and all of the buts, for I am proud of myself and how I live today and the difficult decisions," she stepped back and released his hands.

"Well, that is yours, not mine Jon," Martha turned towards the stoop, but she again looked at him.

"You see me Jon? I want you to see me clearly," she stood a few feet away.

"I am a girl in all ways," he saw her standing on the stoop, silhouetted by the light from the entry door.

"Except one," she hesitated and seemed to tense up. Jon moved a half step closer.

Martha raised her hand, "Let me finish Jon." She wanted him to hear.

"I was born with a penis," Martha almost barked out this last sentence, and then she moved back, as Jon just stood still.

"I still," she hesitated. "It's still there, somewhere. Smaller, but I too have one," she said this in a near whisper.

Jon now stepped closer, but he didn't speak, and she ran her hands over her chest; her breasts, as she said, "This is real blood and flesh. I do not have any fake body pieces Jon. My waist is the result of hard work and a careful diet. Only my neck has seen a surgeon. The doctor smoothed my neck, and it caused a change in my voice, when it healed."

Martha stood still, just looking at him, as he looked at her.

"I will go inside now. Please consider this past day as special, just as I do," she walked nearer to the door.

"Think about me and if tomorrow, you would like to see me, that would be great. If you need a day, a week, a month, sure, I'll wait. Because a girl like me has fewer options," Martha said.

"But Martha you are a stunning woman," Jon had stepped closer, "regardless of what you have concealed beneath," now he wished that he had chosen a better word.

"I can, ah," he was flummoxed, "Imagine what is there, beneath that sexy dress," he said trying to reconcile what this meant. That sounded really dumb, but Jon had said it. He saw her roll her eyes as she turned and walked up two steps of the stoop.

"Don't, I meant not yet, please let me say," he asked.

She put her hand up to quiet me, "Jon, remember I like control. I don't need to hear you thinking out loud. Go home, and think about this day, think of me, if you can, okay?"

Jon moved up to the lower step. She was again looking down, just like on the bus. Jon smiled, "Okay Miss, no issues with me," he said quietly.

She remembered the exchange and giggled lightly and said softly, "Maybe I will see you on the bus sir."

She turned and walked slowly up the eight steps; he was counting each as her heels hit the stone.

"Good night Jon," she said as she turned again to him, and pulled the large door open.

He stayed on the stoop thinking. A minute later he saw a light in second floor windows. Martha was home and he was completely lost. Jon watched the windows and he saw the shutters closing, without acknowledging that he was still outside.

Jon stood quietly for ten minutes, thinking silently of Martha's words. He eventually sat down on the stone steps. After about twenty minutes he was still there, though it wasn't clear why he was remaining. He thought of the song, 'On the Street Where You Live' from the musical 'My Fair Lady'. The irony of Martha's creation, and the song didn't help. He was on the stone steps for quite a long period.

He stood to leave, after over an hour, and he again hummed the tune softly. Jon looked back towards her darken windows as he turned to walk home. It was nearly midnight when he got to bed and asleep. Martha had spellbound him, and he dreamed, as he restlessly slept.

- - - - - - -

Jon had a lonely dream that night:

"You want to be with me, a girl, though with a penis Jon?"

"Martha, can you tell me about the girl in the painting today? The artist painted one on her; she had a panty about her hips, like you do now Martha. You do not want to show me the penis?"

"I like that you refer to my sex as 'the penis' Jon. And, no. I would rather not, but I want you to inside me, deep inside me. That is what I would like you to do."

Jon felt her move to her hip as her fingers pushed her panty aside.

"You know Jon, I have never looked at that painting in the context you are suggesting; the girl with her right hand behind her head may have been like me? With a small penis concealed by her panty?"

She moved atop Jon on the bed and rubbed her body's cleft along his stiffing dick.

"How do we do this Martha? Do we need a special lube or what?"

"No sweet man, I am ready to have you inside me."

This dream shook Jon as he prepared to push into Martha's bottom, into her ass. He was about to butt-fuck, . . . . .

He awoke and sat up, looking at the clock; it was still dark. He lay awake thinking.

- - - - - - - -

Mattie opened the door to her second-floor condo slowly, and she saw Stella standing a few feet inside. She was dressed in her soft pink slip. She was also wearing heels and Mattie noted that she had on hose'. There was a slight tenting at Stella's hips, beneath the soft shimmering pink material.

"Well how did that go Mattie?" Stella asked as she folded her arms across her breasts. Stella had a smirk on her face.

"Will I be meeting that guy soon?" she pressed.

Mattie just stood quietly considering her roommate as Stella opened the door wide. Clearly, she had been watching, maybe listened, to the discussion outside.

Stella came to Mattie at the door to the apartment. She was a some-time roomy and a very close friend.

"NO!" Mattie said sternly without looking at her, and she pushed passed Stella, and noticed that she had cleaned up her mess.

Mattie spun about on her heels as Stella moved close, and pull Mattie into an embrace, and the taller woman kissed her cheek, but Mattie wanted to be clear with her.

"Our agreement is clear," Mattie said aggressively, as she pushed Stella to back away.

Mattie wasn't loud, but continued, "I understand why the first men were to help me along, but Jon is the fifth, or the eighth, it doesn't matter Stella. There is no way Stella, no damn way, and I don't want you here all of the next week. It is my apartment now and I want you to stay with your brother while I begin, if, I begin this relationship." Mattie folded her arms across her chest and sternly looked at Stella.

"Hah ha, you silly girl," Stella snickered.

"I'll admit you are correct, and the terms can now be initiated. There still has to be a closing though Mattie, with all real estate transfers."

They had signed the contract months ago, "Yes and okay, anyway," Stella said.

Mattie was a bit tentative, but now she was thinking of Stella tented chemise, and her eyes focused on Stella's hips.

"I will not be a problem," Stella moaned as she came close, but again Mattie pushed her away. Stella then turned and moved to the window, and closed the shutters, quickly noticing that Jon was still outside.

Stella had wondered about Mattie's need to be accepted, as a woman, by a man during the past months. She knew it was Mattie's decision to share her transition details, and Stella was glad that during the past few months Mattie had become quite confident. Stella wouldn't assume it was necessary for Mattie to disclose that she was transgender. Mattie was her sometime lover, but was quite happy. She now felt it was her business, and not the public's need to know of her transition. Mattie had not been required to share her status even with her new employer, as the paperwork and new the law was supportive.

Mattie heard Stella going the math; "The first one was Stan, and then the fat guy, Richard,"

"He wasn't fat Stella," Mattie said somewhat curtly.

Stella continued, "The third was that hairy guy,"

"Nick," Mattie said softly, as she was now standing beside Stella, near the shuttered window, and she knew what would happen next.

"Yes, Nickie," Stella said.