A Regular Guy Valentine

A transsexual romance.

*

I'm just a regular guy. You know, the kind of guy who likes a little bit of hot sauce on his burrito, playing fetch with his dog at the park, and sitting down to dinner with a beautiful woman. I am feeling particularly fortunate in that last respect this evening, since I happen to be gazing at a most beautiful woman right now as we contemplate our dinner orders.

"So, fish or chicken," I joke, and she smiles. "They also have a vegan puttanesca that I've heard good things about. That's what I'm having."

"Actually, I was thinking of steak, lobster, and maybe a little champagne."

I freeze for a moment, wondering what I had gotten myself into. She lets me twist in the wind for a couple seconds, before throwing her head back to let out a raucous laugh. I have the distinct feeling I had just fallen into the trap of another one of her little jokes.

"Kidding," she says. "I'm not trying to bankrupt you tonight. If I did, you wouldn't be able to ask me out again. And that would be a shame." She's still grinning.

"Oh yes, it would," I think, as I observe this beautiful creature, this impish sprite with her auburn hair and sparkling green eyes, smiling as if she hadn't a care in the world.

I had been wanting to ask her out for months now, but always seemed to lack the courage. God, had it really been that long? She works in the same office complex as me -- not in the same tower I don't think -- because I never bumped into her in the elevator, only the lobby. All I knew is that for the past three months, she had been getting her coffee at precisely nine-thirty every morning.

I wasn't stalking her or anything, we just happened to have the same caffeine cravings at the same time. Well, almost the same. Mine was almond milk, no sugar and hers, well hers was half-decaf caramel latte. In fact, until recently, that's how I had referred to her in my mind -- half-decaf caramel latte -- with a sprinkle of cute little freckles on top.

But all that changed one day when she nearly scalded me with her half-decaf caramel latte. She pretty well ruined my shirt, but I don't mind. Because, you see, that's when I finally got up the courage to ask her out. "I'm so sorry," she said for the third time, still wiping me with a napkin. "My name's Justine, by the way, if you want to send me the bill for the cleaners."

"Jax," I said.

She smiled at me, her eyes lighting up as she did. "J and J," she said, "the coffee twins." I must have looked confused, and maybe I was still in shock from being doused with latte. "I see you here almost everyday," she continued. "Apparently we need our fix at the same time."

I chuckled. "Let me buy you another," I said.

"Save your money, Jax," she told me. "You'll need it, because you're going to ask me out someday." She took one more swipe at my shirt with the napkin, while I just stood there, picking my jaw up off the floor.

"Valentine's Day is coming up," she said, tossing the napkin in the trash, "and I do hope I won't be spending it alone." She grinned, turned on her heal, and left -- taking her half-full, half-decaf caramel latte with her.

So obviously I did ask her out, because here we are, just a regular guy and his enchanting date, sitting down to a Valentine's Day dinner. I really should have mustered the courage to do this last Valentine's Day. That would have been just fine -- except, well -- last Valentine's Day I was a woman.

*

I'm a little nervous at first, not really having that much experience at dating as a man. But Justine is so open, so free with conversation, that I hardly have to think at all. I find myself just being me -- a little guarded perhaps, but still -- just me. She's a bit deadpan with some of her humor and I end up falling into the trap of more than one of her jokes, but I don't mind, because I love the way her eyes light up when she laughs.

We could probably talk for hours, and the best thing is, I still don't know what she does at the office. We've managed to avoid the obvious trap of talking about work. We hit on a myriad of topics, like theater, music, even politics. But never once do we fall back on the tired old, "so what do you do for a living." And to me, that's a sure sign of a good date.

It's going so well in fact, that I feel the urge to reveal a little more. I'm nervous as hell, but I decide to just lay it all out there and get it over with. Either she accepts me or she doesn't, but I'm not going to hide.

"Justine, there's something I should tell you." I hesitate. Is this going to blow it? I hope not, I really like this woman. "There's something about me that you don't know ..."

"Oh really?" she says. "'Cause I know all about you."

"You do?" I put my hands under the table so she won't see them shaking.

"I thought your name sounded familiar, so I asked a friend in building security to look you up. A girl can't be too careful these days, you know. Turns out we went to the same high school. Did you know that?"

"And?" The knot in my stomach tightens as I wait for her to continue -- wait for her to get up, throw her drink in my face and walk out the door. Out of my life forever.

"And I know, Jax," she says. "Or should I say Poppy? I know all about you, and you know what? I don't care. So just relax, and let's have our date."

I let out a sigh. I hadn't even realized I had been holding my breath.

"It's about time you got around to asking me out anyway. Why didn't you do it sooner? Or did you think I was just going to wait around forever, pining away while you worked up the courage?"

"I -- I ..." Rational, coherent thoughts were just not my thing right now. Was this just another example of her deadpan sense of humor? Or was she truly being straight with me?

She places her hand on on the table, on top of mine. "Relax," she says, "I promise I won't spill coffee on you this time."

I cock my head to the side, studying this enigma seated across from me. "I can't quite figure you out. Every time I think I have, you go and surprise me again."

"That's what makes me so much fun, Jax. That's what makes me so much fun." Her smile is infectious and I can't help but grin.

Dinner is a bit of a blur for me. I mean, it's a nice place and the food is great, but I think if you ask me to describe it tomorrow, I would have trouble remembering what I ate. I put the blame for that squarely in Justine's lap. Not that she did anything to upset the evening, in fact, quite the opposite. But she's just so damn captivating that I have trouble focusing on anything else.

I find myself lost in her eyes, her lips, the cute little dimples on her cheeks, as we talk about anything and everything. "I've always wanted to visit Machu Picchu," I tell her, as the conversation turns to bucket lists.

"Where is that? India?"

"Peru," I say. "It's a fifteenth-century Inca citadel, about eight-thousand feet up in the mountains. I'd love to see it at first light. I imagine being there just as the sun is peeking up over the mountain, chasing away the shadows and burning off the early morning mist. I'll look out in wonder, seeing the ancient structures illuminated one by one, as darkness is banished from the land."

She says nothing, just stares in what looks to be stunned silence. I can't believe it. For once I feel like the tables have been turned, that I've blown her away, instead of it constantly being the other way around. I enjoy that feeling -- but only for a few brief seconds.

"You'll be sure to take me with you when you go, right?" There, she's done it, and I find myself treading water once again.

"Um, sure," I say.

"Good. Now if you're finished eating, maybe you'd like to take me for a walk. I hear they have a beautiful garden." She smiles, and I know I can't refuse. How does she do that? I would find it a little unnerving, if it weren't so damn exciting.

*

We walk along the path, hand-in-hand, just talking. We pause in front of a statue of Neptune, probably a replica of of something famous in a museum somewhere. "I'd love to go to Italy someday," she says. "Soak up the warm Mediterranean sun, drink wine, explore ancient ruins."

"Sounds fun," I say. "I'll have to add it to my bucket list."

She's grinning as I watch her trailing her fingers over Neptune's carved stone chest. "You know, I always thought these statues had their wangs hanging out." Her hand is on Neptune's toga now, pretending to grab his crotch. I just chuckle. I'm getting used to her forwardness now, and I'm no longer quite so shocked.

I'm not shocked by her fondling of Neptune, but I do jump a little as I feel her hand on me. "Mmm, does this work?" she asks, grabbing at my trousers.

I swallow hard. "I -- I haven't had the surgery, if that's what you mean. But I've got something that -- something that can do the job." My knees go weak as she continues massaging and pressing with her hand. "Oh god," I mutter upon hearing the sound of my zipper.

I quickly glance around to make sure we are still alone. We are, but I get the feeling she might have continued even if we weren't. She's squatting down between my knees, moaning and cooing, as if she's unwrapping presents on Christmas day. "Is this going to be good for you too?" she asks, looking up at me, her green eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

"Mmm-hmm," is all I can manage, as her fingers go to work on my belt. Within seconds my trousers are sliding over my legs and landing in a puddle at my feet.

"Good. 'Cause I want you to enjoy it as much as I do."

"Oh, hell yeah," I think, as I watch her tongue sliding and swirling around my package. Thank goodness Neptune's there behind me to lean on. "Thanks, buddy." I don't think I could stand otherwise. I honestly don't know how she's able to do it, squatting there like that, bobbing up and down on my cock.

"Except, she's got her hands on my ass for balance," I think, watching. It's an incredible sight to behold. And soon the feelings start coming through as well. My date is apparently well versed in the art of oral stimulation. She's going down deeper and harder than I thought was possible. I'm not complaining, but damn!

Soon I stop worrying so much about her ability to breathe -- she's obviously doing OK -- and start concentrating on enjoying the sensations as they course through my body. I feel a shudder run through me. She's lost her balance a bit and is gripping my ass to steady herself. I feel her nails digging into my backside.

"Mmm," I moan, not from pain or shock, but from the intensity of it all. I really like it, the two sensations together. Justine apparently picks up on this feeling. "I swear she's psychic," I think, as she's dragging her nails over my ass and down the back of my legs.

She gets to the end of her reach, then lightly trails her fingertips back up to reset for another run. By this time, my shuddering is nearly constant. I feel every shock-wave as she slams down on my cock, over and over, until ...

I feel myself stiffen, every muscle tight as a wire. I think she knows what's coming, because she picks up the pace just a little. I'm shaking uncontrollably now, my hands clenched in fists. I need something to hold onto, something to keep me from falling over. I'm momentarily tempted to wrap my hands in her hair, to grab the back of her head.

But that's the last thing I'd want done to me if I were in her position. I don't want to be that kind of date, so I settle for her shoulders. I hang on for dear life, as she continues the death-grip she has on my ass. One more dig of her nails on my skin. One more jolt as she slams down on my cock.

Then a shudder.

Then. "Oh god," I cry out, a little louder than I had intended. "Oh, god -- oh, god -- oh, god -- yes! -- yes!"

When I finally recover, I offer my hand and help Justine to her feet. She wraps her arms about my neck and collapses into me. "That was fun," she says, "we'll have to do it again sometime." For a moment, I'm so in shock, all I can do is moan. Out of the corner of my eye, I swear I see Neptune grinning at me.

"You wanna? -- I mean, do you? -- " I try, but words fail me.

"You want to take me home and make me breakfast in the morning, don't you?" She takes my head in her hands and nips me on the earlobe. Her hot breath on my neck is causing me to shiver again, making my little hairs stand on end. "Well, I'm not that kind of girl, Jax," she whispers. "But you can walk me to the taxi stand, and promise me that you'll call."

I am at a loss for words, she's like a dream come true. I just hope I don't wake up. "OK," I manage to croak out, as Justine wraps her hand in mine and we set off together.

"You're a real gentleman, you know that?" she says, as we walk along. "Most guys get stupid when I do that for them. They try to force me, or choke me, or some other macho bullshit." She trails her fingertips over my cheek, and smiles. "But not you."

I'm momentarily lost in the sparkle of her eyes. "I'd never ..." I start. I don't get a chance to finish, because the next taxi pulls up and she kisses me quick on the lips. I wave as she pulls away. I don't think I ever stop grinning.

"Good date, huh man?" It's a guy a little older than me, waiting in the queue behind me. He smells of a little too much booze. I just smile and nod. Within a few seconds, my taxi pulls up and I hop in. Settling in, I tell the driver where I need to go.

As I watch the urban landscape roll by, I pinch myself. A smile crosses my lips. Nope, not dreaming.

*
It's three weeks later. Three weeks since my wonderful Valentine's Day date with Justine and I'm dreaming about the two of us together in my bed. In my dream, she's wonderful and vibrant and sexy. I am amazed at her enthusiasm and energy as I drift in and out, between the realm of fantasy and conscious thought.

I'm jolted back to reality by something cold and wet nudging my hand. "In a minute," I grumble, and roll over. The nudging continues, more insistent this time. The sun's not even up yet.

"Justine," I whisper, "I gotta let the dog out. Sleep as late as you want."

I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand up. "Come on, you," I grumble. Gracie just cocks her head and looks at me with a soulful gaze. "I know," I smile, "but you could have given me a few more minutes. She's a nice girl, and I have a good feeling about her." Gracie just stares. "She likes you too, you know." I reach down and scratch behind Gracie's ears.

There's a chill in the air this morning, and despite the long night I am instantly awake. I continue confessing to my dog, and for her part, she's a good listener. "So what do you think, Gracie? Should we see if we can keep her coming back? You gotta admit, she is fun." I begin replaying last night in my head and smile.

"Not just fun," I think. "She really understands me. I mean, she's here, in my bedroom. We've had a few dates and she hasn't run off yet." I sigh. "I don't think I'm just a fling for her, Gracie." My dog doesn't seem to care about my love-life. She just trots past me and back into the warmth of my condo.

I am wide awake after the jolt of cold. And as much as I want to crawl in and snuggle up to Justine, I figure I ought to at least thaw out a little first. I pick up a throw blanket and wrap it around my shoulders before setting off for the bedroom.

I peek in to find Justine still sleeping. She looks so peaceful there, all snuggled up in blankets, as I watch the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. I want to crawl in, to press up against her, to feel her bare skin against mine once again.

I shiver. Glancing down at my fingertips, I see I am still slightly blue from being outside, and head for the shower instead. "Just a quick rinse to warm up," I convince myself. "Five minutes tops."

I am reticent to take the time, but I want Justine to have pleasant memories of our first night together, and not remember it as the morning the human ice cube crawled into bed with her. I chuckle a little at that image in my mind as I wait for the water to warm up.

I step in, letting the water cascade over me, as I let my mind drift for a few minutes. I hear a flush. "Sorry," I hear next, "I probably scalded you again." A giggle. "At least it's not coffee this time."

"Jeez, you scared me. I thought you were still sleeping."

"You're not exactly quiet in here. Were you singing, or was that Gracie howling at the moon?"

I chuckle. Was I singing? I do that sometimes, particularly at the start of what I think is going to be a really good day. I think about that for a second. Yeah, I probably was singing. "Sorry," I say. "Was I really that bad?"

She declines comment on my singing. "Since I'm up, you mind if I join you? And then you can go off and make me breakfast." Still forward, even at this early hour.

"What makes you think ..." I don't get to finish. Justine is already in the shower with her body pressed to mine. Even in the short time I've known her, I realize that any argument from me will be futile, and I just go with the moment.

"Nice shower," she says, and pushes me back against the tiles. It's a little chilly on my backside, but I'm not going to complain. Having Justine's body against me is worth the price. She's warm, and certainly not shy. Already her lips are pressed to mine.

I move forward a bit, pressing into her in an effort to get closer, and to separate myself from the cold ceramic. I hear moaning as I run my hands up and over her back. It feels so nice with the warm water running over her smooth skin. I begin drawing little wavy lines with my fingertips, as I lose myself in the feeling of her.

"Ow! What the ..." I feel her nails digging into my back.

"Sorry," she says. "You seemed to like it last night."

I think back to our evening activities, to the time when she lay underneath me all flushed and heaving, while I buried my cock inside her. I do recall she had her hands on my back, and was pretty mercilessly scratching me up. In fact, I still have some marks this morning. "That was different," I explain, "you had me really turned on."

"So," she smiled up at me, "how do I get you that turned on again? I mean, you're not wearing your little thingy."

I raise my eyebrow at her.

"Sorry," she giggles, "I shouldn't have called it little." She rolls her eyes. "Jeez, you guys are all the same."

I just grin. I mean, how can I not. "You can just rub me," I suggest.

"Like this?" she says, as her hand slips between my legs.

"Oh yeah, just like that," I think. But the only thing that crosses my lips is a low moan. Justine is grinning, amused at my inability to articulate my feelings with anything other than primitive grunts and moans.

She's got her tongue on my neck now and is sliding up the length of it, making her way to my earlobe. After a quick nip, she speaks. "So, are you turned on now?"

I don't answer, at least not in words. I turn her around, so that we have switched places, and put my lips to her breast. She's still rubbing me, a little more urgently now, as I pull her nipple into my mouth and tease it to attention. I suck hard, and release her with a pop. "Getting there," I say, before going after the other side.

Justine's got her thigh between pressed up against me now, and I'm unashamedly riding her, grinding on her leg, while I continue teasing her with my mouth. As she moans, I get the feeling that the tide may be turning in my favor. Could it be that this wonderful woman, the one who's kept me on my toes since we met, could it be that she's at a loss for words?

I decide to take full advantage of this moment, and slip my hand between her thighs. I tease her with my finger, and she parts easily. "Oh, god," I moan, remembering the same feeling I had last night when I first entered her. The way she clamped down on my finger to let me know she approved of my technique. "Oh, god."