Stepping into the restroom cut the thump of the techno music to a distant throb, but she had a throb of her own. The guy she had been dancing with all night wants to meet her in the Rumpus Room. He knows she is packing and that she wants to get inside of him and he’s cool with it, even eager for it. She’d had to adjust herself before she could leave the dance floor.
She looks in the mirror as she comes in and watches herself walk behind the other girls touching up their faces. She isn’t vain, but she looks as good as any of them and in that red dress she looks better than most. There is no muffin top showing over her panties, no little roll around her bra strap. She is tight clean curvy lines with a hard ball of intent where her legs meet.
She steps into an empty stall. Part of her wants to pee standing up, just to freak the other girls out a little. Not that anyone would say anything. Even if they clocked her they wouldn’t mention it. But she never got clocked unless she wanted to. She was a ghost among them. That girl with a little something they could never provide, a competitive edge that sends some guys to the moon, like the cute Clark Kent look-a-like she is fixing to dip her wick in.
She knocks the last drop of pee off the tip and stands up to fix it back in place for the trip to the Rumpus Room. She pulls the dress down, but just before she tucks her little girl away she thinks of a selfie. She sets up her phone and looks at herself on the screen. She loves shots like these. She looks amazing and sexy, and then you get to the bottom of the dress and get that little twist at the end. Perfect. She takes the shot and posts it. Her girlfriends will know what the hashtag means.
Not my caption, but I love it!
Yea, I’m using this photo twice. Sorry. I just really dig it. Enjoy her scene too.
He saw her standing alone across the large room. Her back turned to the party crowd as she looked out the windows and over the city. The long hair, the confident stance, the curves. They all caught his eye and drew his interest. She looked like a girl he’d like to ask out. He took note of the empty champagne glass at her elbow and snagged two fresh ones from a passing tray. As he approached he could see she was not like most of the other women at the party. There was a presence about her, a power or strength that he was drawn to. All the other skinny women seemed like fragile dolls while he could imagine wrestling in the sheets with this woman as she laughed and growled. Just the thought of that made his dick swell in his pants. All the better. He wanted her to see his bulge. When he arrived at her back he cleared his throat and said,
“Excuse me. I saw your glass was empty so I brought you a fresh one.” She turned and fixed him with an intense stare, assessing him. She noted his bulge.
“It’s empty because I don’t like champagne. I’m more of a beer girl.” Her eyes drilled into his. Challenging him to stay or slink off back into the crowd. He stood his ground.
“Oh? Well I guess that leaves more for me. Would you like for me to get you a beer?” His eyes drifted down over her. Pretty eyes, nice rack and….whoa! They snapped back up to hers. She had no reaction on her face when she challenged him again,
“See something you like? Want to ask me out now, or are you just another close minded guy?” He hated being called out and when someone challenged he had to meet it head on.
“Yes. I do want to ask you out. That’s the whole reason I came over here, but if you’re too busy playing the tough ass bitch and trying scare me away to be interested in a date, just come out and tell me. Then maybe I can have a shot at one of these other less interesting women.” His nostrils flared a little as he defiantly held his ground and sipped his champagne. A Mona Lisa smile touched her lips.
“You think I’m interesting?” He took another sip as his mind swirled with where this was going.
“Definitely.” He declared with a nod of punctuation.
“What if I’m too much for you to handle?” Now it was his turn to smile.
“I guess there is only one way for us to find out.”
He tossed back the last of the champagne, set the glasses on the window sill and offered her his arm. The surprise he saw on her face gave him sweet satisfaction after how things had begun. Her arm slipped through his and her hand gripped his forearm with a strength that gave him goose bumps. That wrestling match was going to be very interesting.
Is T-girl erotica the submissive male’s fairytale? I think it might be and if it is then I’m as guilty as anyone. But let’s stop for a second and let me explain where I’m coming from. I have heard over the years that fairytales give girls an unreasonable expectation about romance and relationships. Disney being a big culprit to that end with all those fairytale princesses finding their prince and living happily ever after. It’s all sunshine, rainbows, fuzzy bunnies and unicorns. Those of you who have taken a ride of any duration on the relationship merry-go-round know the truth.
What I want to talk about is the sub guy like me who reads dominant t-girl erotica and dreams of being with a girl just like the lead character. She’s strong, dominant, hung like a stallion and wants to spend her every waking moment buried within your body. These t-girls are becoming more and more prevalent in all forms of trans erotica both written and filmed. I guess that shows how many people out there find that type of t-girl attractive.
The law of averages says there is a chance she exists, but it’s not a big one. So all of us writers who spin tales of these t-girls are giving you the expectation that when you find her she is going to be this perfect girl of your dreams. She will take you and make you into her slave, just like you’ve always dreamed, or at least take you and have her way with you. Since these girls are so rare is it bad that I write stories that give you this expectation? Probably. But let’s face it. If we wanted to live in reality about 90% of all the books and movies out there wouldn’t sell. We humans need to dream. We need to strive for things that can seem impossible, because sometimes we find out that they were only highly improbable.
All that being said, I don’t want you to think for a minute that I’m going to change my evil ways and start writing about realistic relationships. Nope, I’m going to play Iron Butterfly’s ‘In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida’ on your submissive guitar strings till you explode. My t-girls will push you to the ground and take what they want from you and you will love it! I’m only pointing this all out so that if you are ever lucky enough to enter into a relationship with beautiful t-woman you can dial it back a few notches and approach her with zero expectations. Then if things go well….show her a few of my stories with a hopeful look on your face.
Not mine, but I still wanted to share it. Her face is perfect. Just imagine her hunky lover’s smirk as he drops his boxers. And she thought she was going to shock him…..
They had been dating for over a year now getting to know each other and settling into their relationship. To the outside world they appeared to be like any other loving couple, but as with most couples that was hardly the case. Kate and John were in love that part was true, but she was tired of hiding. Kate was the strong willed one in the relationship and had come to a decision. She was no longer hiding who she was. John was unsure about this new path, but Kate insisted.
Kate enjoyed pulling on her hot pink shorts without the usual tucks and adjustments as John looked on in consternation. John commented,
“Those shorts are pretty tight. They look uncomfortable. Maybe you should wear your kaki ones.” Kate sighed.
“They’re fine John and they match my lipstick. Besides, they’re more comfortable now than all the other times I’ve worn them. I thought you liked these shorts.” He mumbles
“I do. But they….well….they…make you…stand out.” Kate shot him a look then smiled.
“I know.” John was flustered.
“But can’t we start off with something a little less…obvious?” She loved his discomfiture.
“No honey. You love me right?” John nodded. “Just like I am, right?” Another nod. “Then you need to embrace it and let me be me. Don’t force me to hide who I am behind tucks and tape. Let the world know that your girlfriend is a tgirl and embrace it!” He gave her a dubious look.
“Does it have to look so….big?” She gave him another grin.
“Don’t you want the other guys to be jealous of you?” John heaved a sigh. He’d lost this argument several times already.
“I guess so.”
“Good!” She picked up her purse. “All ready!” She took one last look in the mirror and said, “I need a selfie to commemorate our first date with me out, so to speak.” She took the picture and posted it to her Instagram wall. “Now we’re ready.”
She took John’s hand and led him out the door and into a whole new world.