Trans Girl Romance #1
One lonely housewife… One fun-loving trans woman… One wild and lust-filled encounter!
At first glance, Wendy has it all: a wealthy, handsome husband, a beautiful home and time on her hands. But despite it all, she’s bored, lonely, unfulfilled. Something’s missing from her life, but what?
Wendy doesn’t even know what it is she’s looking for, until she meets Lana. Sexy and glamorous, Lana’s unlike any other woman Wendy’s ever known – especially when Wendy discovers a substantial surprise in her pants.
Soon, the two of them head back to Lana’s flat for a hot and wild afternoon of passion. And for Wendy, this will only be the beginning…of something new.
Something New is a 5,600-word short story.
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“Hi,” said the blonde woman, as Wendy sat down at her table.
“Hi,” said Wendy. What should she say now? Suddenly she was nervous: what if she’d misread the situation completely?
“My name’s Lana.”
“Lana.” Of course it was. A glamorous, elegant name for a glamorous, elegant woman. “I’m Wendy.”
“Wendy.” Lana’s full red lips seemed to caress the name. Wendy felt her nipples tingle, and thanked goodness for the sensible trouser suit jacket. Lana smiled. “I haven’t seen you here before.”
“No. No, I haven’t been here before.”
“You’re not local?”
“Oh, no — I mean, yes, I am. I just—”
“Wanted to go somewhere new?”
Lana took a sip of tea, her eyes on Wendy’s. “Wanted to try something new?”
Was this just small talk? Had Wendy read things wrong? The easy thing, the safe thing, would be to say no. She could finish her tea and go back to her car, drive home and settle back into her boring life. But instead she met Lana’s gaze and said: “Yes.”
Lana nodded. “I thought so,” she said. “I saw you, and do you know what I thought?”
“No,” Wendy said at last. Her throat felt very dry all of a sudden; she gulped the last of her tea. “What did you think?”
Lana smiled; it was wicked, sexy, inviting, and teasing, all at once. She bent forward, showing her tanned cleavage, and beckoned. As Wendy leant in, Lana whispered to her, “I thought, ‘she’s gorgeous.’ And then I thought, ‘I wonder if she’d like to have some fun?’”
Wendy was even more nervous now, but for a different reason: she’d clearly read the situation exactly right. “Fun?” she said.
“Fun,” said Lana.
Wendy’s mouth was dry again. Again, it was a simple choice: all she had to say was no and this was over. Back to her life. But once again she said, “Yes.”
Lana smiled, reached out and stroked her cheek. Wendy flinched at the unexpected contact, but it sent a thrill through her. God Almighty, her nipples were rock-hard — she could feel them straining against her chiffon blouse, feel the fabric rubbing against their tips. There was a light tingle between her thighs as well, as if someone had lightly brushed a silk scarf over the lips of her pussy.
Despite Wendy’s flinching away, Lana’s smile just became wider. “Come on, then,” she said, and stood up.
“Where are we going?” said Wendy, following her out of the café and down the little cobbled alleyway beside it. There was a red Volkswagen at the other end; Lana raised her key-fob and deactivated the alarm with a beep.
“Back to mine. Is that okay?”
Would a hotel be safer? Maybe, but Wendy found she didn’t care. I’m really doing this, she thought, I’m really going to do it. She was more excited than she could remember being in years; as she caught up with Lana she put a hand on her arm, and Lana turned to face her, eyebrows raised, those soft red lips slightly parted. Wendy leant towards her, hesitated — but then Lana moved the rest of the way and kissed her on the lips, her warm tongue sliding into Wendy’s mouth.
Wendy thrust her tongue back in response, reaching out to clasp the other woman’s waist and pull her to her. Lana’s hands cupped her firm, round bottom, squeezed her gym-toned arse cheeks, and she pushed Wendy back against the wall. Wendy parted her thighs, grinding herself against Lana—
Something was pressing against her through Lana’s jeans; something long and hard. It felt like … but it couldn’t be, could it? Perhaps it was a dildo; she’d read somewhere that some lesbians liked to have one in their pants. But it didn’t feel like plastic somehow.
“Ah,” said Lana. “You didn’t realise?” She took Wendy’s hand and guided it, sliding it down the front of her jeans … then closed her eyes and purred, biting her lip, as Wendy’s fingers found and closed around warm, hard flesh.
Lana’s eyes opened again. “I thought you knew,” she said.
“No,” said Wendy.
“Is that a problem? If you’ve changed your mind…”
Once again, she had the chance to back out: all she had to say this time was yes, instead of no. But for the third time, Wendy chose to carry on. “I haven’t,” she said. “Let’s get back to yours.”
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