The Departure

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*****

I was reviewing my Scotch purchase in Heathrow’s Duty-Free zone prior to flying back to the States. Oban single malt whiskey here is less expensive and I knew my brother would enjoy receiving a bottle. As the checker handled the payment an old woman in a small powered riding-cart came too close to the woman standing close behind me and the next moment the blonde fell into me. I somehow turned and caught her as well as her bottle of Macallan. The driver of the cart didn’t seem to notice that her action had an effect as she motored off.

“Shoot, and thank you sir. I would have been struck by that old bitty,” the woman said as I helped her.

I now smiled seeing her face. She was a good-looking woman of about thirty with dark blonde hair held up by a clip and a pin.

“It was remarkable that you caught both me and the bottle sir,” she spoke with an American accent.

Her soft curves hadn’t helped me with the rescue as I had grabbed and caught her. Her travel wear was pants and a jacket but she wore a heeled shoe.

“No issues Miss,” I said and turned back to grab my receipt. I walked away toward my Gate with my phone distracting me. I missed that she was nearly behind me as I walked the long terminal passageways to the Airways Gate.

Later when I had boarded the plane and was seated in the front cabin I saw that she was just behind in the comfort section. She smiled as she saw me.

“I would like to fly that way to the States,” she said talking over the few rows of empty seats. “and thank you again.”

I considered just allowing it to pass but smiled back and said, “I’m Ken Furr, expat from near Newark.”

She slipped back up the aisle a moment and extended her small delicate hand. The details I quickly enjoyed while holding her hand; the gold bracelets, the short cuff of her sleeve, the soft skin of her palm and her rose colored nails with medium tips her eyes excited me. She was quite beautiful.

“Miranda Steven but I’m called Mira mostly. I’m from the Midwest Ken. Again thanks for that save back there.”

Now as I looked at her I saw what had attracted me. It was her smile that got me.

She said, “Maybe I’ll see you on the other side, of the Atlantic I mean.”

She turned and walked back several rows. She was seated about six rows behind me and she saw me watching as she settled herself.

After three hours in the air I needed the WC but the upper cabin was still occupied. I walked quietly passed the sleeping passengers to use one at the plane’s midsection.

After my visit I opened the door and the opposite door contacted the door to my box as I opened it. I pulled the door back to allow the other passenger freedom to exit the opposite stall.

As I started back I saw it was Mira. I watched her bottom sway as she moved quickly away.

I walked a bit quicker up the aisle and reached to tap her shoulder, “Hello again.”

When I returned to my seat I considered the second encounter with the beauty from Kansas. We had spoken for fifteen minutes standing between the two cabins. She was lovely and told me of her travel to New York. We had agreed to meet later that evening for a drink. I entered her cellphone number and the address of her Hotel.

My day the Manhattan was busy with the Chief of Finance regarding a deal I had been preparing. The eight hours of work wore me down. At five that afternoon I received a text and recalled the date we had arranged.

When I walked into the Lobby bar of the Essex I didn’t see Mira so I stood near the entry. After a few minutes a lovey and elegant woman approached.

“Ken?”

“Oh my god Miranda!”

I stupidly was looking for her as I remembered her outfit on the plane.

She was dressed to the nines with her long hair falling down her back. Her black dress had an open back, she was bra-less. She was now almost my height as I noted her high heels and legs as her dress stopped above the knee. When she lightly kissed my cheek I noted her scent, that new Chanel. I stepped back as she smiled and quickly took in the visage. She was a dream and I enjoyed her body for a few seconds. Her legs looked so sexy. I felt myself stir.

“The suit and tie did nothing to help you evade my search Ken.”

Her touch on my arm caused me to get goose bumps.

“I love your dress Miranda.”

I was smitten. As she moved ahead I got stiff. Miranda was quite sexy and I wanted to sleep with her immediately but I knew to be a gentleman and resisted my urge to play with her.

“Come follow me. I was a little early and have a spot in the lounge.”

The waiter arrived just as we sat down. She had ordered a bottle of good French Pinot. Seeing the Village and the Latour name I didn’t comment. I liked her taste instantly.

She spoke of her legal work for Lloyds but at the Oxford office.

“I altyazılı porno tend to stay away from the City unless the boss pushes me. She manages the special division I’m with at the Bank. The firm allows me to use the firm’s pied-de-terre near Saint Paul’s when I have to visit the City office.”

I watched and listened but also enjoy the view of her lovely gams. The sexy nude hose’ were exposed as she had shifted to reach for her phone. I saw the welt and the clasp. God I was hard just being near this woman.

I explained that I was in a similar business but in Mayfair. My flat was on an upper level near Grosvenors Square.

“I tend to get stateside almost once a month for a few days, hence the free seat upgrade. I wouldn’t afford that bucket bed without the miles rewards.”

She was fun and easy to look at but we were both time-constrained.

“My evening dinner can’t be passed on Ken.”

She told me that she had only tomorrow in New York. I had to stay through Thursday.

“Could I call you when I’m back in London Miranda?”

Though we did speak on the phone during the following week our schedules didn’t allow a second meeting that weekend. During the next few weeks we got to know one another as we spoke every few days.

I considered alternatives since Oxford was close and I wanted to spend more time with this lovely woman.

“Maybe I could get the mid-afternoon train on Friday Ken?” she asked a week later.

I suggested that I had a car for Friday.

“I have a meeting in Luton at Noon so I could meet you for dinner in Oxford?”

She agreed but offered a restriction.

“Ken, so long as we’re honest about the date. I can’t take you to my place quite yet. Maybe I’m a prude but can we just have dinner and wait to see how you come to like and understand me better?”

I told Mira that I understood, “I can still adore you, I mean being with you and looking at you Miranda. That is reasonable right?”

She giggled into the phone, “Looking is okay, for now, no touching too much Ken.”

So we had a great time that Friday and I had found a cheap room for the night. I masturbated that evening recalling her shorter alluring dress. I hadn’t dated many women who chose to wear hose’ and I recalled as I watched her dress slipped to expose her bare skin of her upper thigh. It had nearly pushed me over. She hadn’t been aware that I had witness the show.

The following week she seemed to be more comfortable with me as we spoke by phone. The third week of our relationship and we still had only kissed! I had no interesting in rushing her but the distance and her reserve were both causing my aching. There wasn’t a mystery only some reserve regarding foreplay and petting. I wanted her but wondered if she was teasing me.

She brought it up the following evening.

“Ken you and I have something now that we could call a relationship but I need to see you to discuss how we can move it to a new level.”

I told her I could travel Friday for a weekend stay in Oxford but she asked me to get a hotel suite in downtown. I opened the browser as we talked.

“On-line I see a room at the Parsonage Mira. They have a very, “

She interrupted me, “a good dinner menu and wine list Ken. Perfect choice.”

She told me that she would wear something interesting.

“And we can talk about us Ken.”

I sensed that there was a bit of a secret in her voice but I was excited for Friday to arrive.

I was at my office in London on Tuesday afternoon when the text arrived :

‘ I’m in London tonight Can we meet at the George for a drink? ‘

The Pub was near and I agreed.

I arrived a few minutes early and waited at the Bar. When I saw the door open I knew something was up. She seemed anxious but still we kissed lightly and moved to a quiet corner.

Miranda was wearing tight jeans and tall heels and her blouse was nearly translucent. I could see her lacy brassiere clearly. She didn’t look dressed for office work. As she moved ahead slightly I enjoyed her wide hips and curves but also her cleavage when she turned to sit at the small table. She seemed to be purposely exposed. Her makeup was bit bold as well and she wore her long blonde hair in a tail with loose locks dropped from the side of her head. She looked quite striking. As we sat she told me that she had traveled to talk with me.

We talked of the week’s news and small unimportant stuff as we enjoyed the wine.

“I think, ” she started to say but stumbled. We had ordered another glass of wine.

Then she turned to look down at her nails as she spoke, “No I know Ken that this news may cause a scene but I have decided to share it here rather than on Friday.”

I tried to take her hand for she was clearly upset. Though mine was near across the table she moved hers a bit back.

“I need you to carefully listen and try to hold back any comments or anger Ken. I have some history that you deserve to know about. Before you,” she paused again and fidgeted slightly.

“Ken zenci porno I know you are looking for a lover and possibly a woman to share a life with. I am not trying to push you away but what you spoke of on the phone yesterday caused me a mess, an emotional wreck, “

She was crying softly now, “and I just want, no I need to tell you, “

She pulled her hanky free of her bag as she continued quietly, “I am a transgender woman.”

I heard the words but I took a moment to recognize what this meant but then thought holy shit. I resisted pulling away from her hand.

I didn’t express anything as I was in shock. My eyes were looking at her but she had covered her nose as she cried. I hoped my quietness didn’t cause her additional anxiety. She had completely misled me but as I sat I wondered if I had pushed to hard.

Holy fuck, this beautiful girl was telling me what?

I somehow did take her fingers slightly but I then slowly turned away to see whether anyone else might have heard her.

Without looking at her I whispered, “My god Miranda, it is a outrageous thing to say, “

Then I turned back realizing that she had started to stand.

“No, please, don’t, please Mira,” and she sat back down but on the edge of the chair.

Looking at her I saw the makeup smearing as she quietly cried. She wiped her nose and eyes.

“But this is of course wildly surprising as you have imagined,” I said with a quiver in my voice.

I let go of her hand as I considered what the fuck I should do or say.

“Miranda, you, well it’s just that you are beautiful, and, wow. Really?”

She somehow knew I wasn’t going to leave so she reached and squeezed my hand again and looked to my eyes. She wanted to stay right here. The second wine seemed to appear and I reached and took a big drink.

Looking at her as she cleared her eyes again I saw her start to speak but just looked at her. I wondered what this might mean; the fact that I was still seated across from her. I pondered to myself if this moment was real. I had fallen for a guy who dressed as a woman?

She spoke of her transition history, the surgeries, and the ridicule when she came to the conclusion that she liked men. She also talked of her being so obliviously female so as to never cause a question.

“But being alone too Ken, having no one to come home to.”

Then she paused. A moment later she said, “I wanted to be your girl Ken that first evening in New York.”

I considered that history and knew in my heart that I had wanted her then as well.

Then Miranda said, “I need you to know that I have a penis Ken.”

I just kept listening as this thought banged around my head. I had tumbled into love with a woman who had a dick. She cried softly as I held her hand. How should I act toward her with this news?

“But wait Miranda, you felt I could handle this news so that is why we’re sitting here in a public house and “

“No Ken, I wanted to have some protection in case you went off on the news. You, “

“didn’t,” I completed her words.

“I didn’t Miranda, but I think that I do need some time to comprehend the us, the relationship. This is the news you spoke of the other day?”

She nodded.

We sat quietly for some minutes but my hand had moved away from hers.

I wanted to say to her that even now I could not imagine that she had been born a male. I tried to see Miranda with a penis but it just couldn’t be. She felt something was going on and she shifted her chair closer.

Whispering, “My penis is normal Ken, but small now.”

I looked at her without speaking as I was thinking of her statement. Then she said, “I am more of woman then many girls and I want you to be with me Ken.”

The evening surprised had me confused. My mind wanted to leave but I also didn’t want her to be hurt by me. I reached and touched her fingers lightly.

“Don’t let me cause you hurt Miranda. I’m still processing the news. Yet one look at your face makes me not believe your statement.”

I stood and slowly moved back a step.

“This may be sad for you. I need to leave to consider the information you have just provided Miranda. I can’t quite imagine this right now but I promise to think of you okay?”

I turned leaving her. In the refection of the glass door I could see her, with her head down, but I needed some distance.

As I walked to the bus stand I considered how she must have felt. She had shared with me the intimate details of her last five years. I got on the upper level of the bus and rode to the end of the line. It was late when I returned to Mayfair and got a beer from the frig and sat down to consider my situation.

Having a beautiful woman tell me this news had not caused me to leave. It was my need to consider the act of sex with a person who happened to have a penis yet looked, acted and smelled feminine.

That night with the computer running information at my brain I read for hours and looked at women known as transgender male to female.

One aldatma porno transwoman from Brazil truly shocked me. Her long hair was darker then Miranda’s but her body might be identical. The way this woman carried herself reminded me of Miranda but ‘Carla’ had a penis too. Ángela was another woman you would have fooled any guy. But all that matter little. I had to deal with the attraction and her gender, her sex. I had never considered a woman like this prior to today. In fact it is fair to say I would never have thought of sex with a transgender woman if Miranda had not proposed such a thing.

She wants me to sleep with her and she knew weeks ago that I would have difficulty with this. I recalled that I had initiated the relationship, back in New York. I had asked her out, asked for her number. I had pursued her not the other way around. She did resist each date but I hadn’t picked up any ‘tells’ as I now knew.

Then I realized that actually she had prevented this by the very nature of her presentation and the act of her femininity. That she was female not a male may be but she hadn’t found an earlier opportunity to enlighten me.

Late near two I found on-line a story or really a nearly daily description of one woman’s transition since 2012. Kayla wrote, “The fact that I’m transgender does not make me less of a woman”.

The girl’s story was similar to Miranda. Both had successfully transitioned early. I wondered if I would ever come to see her as beautiful and female now. I had made two snapshots of Mira back a week ago and now I studied them. She looked only feminine. She didn’t have any maleness in her appearance. Of the women I had discovered on-line to be transgender a few had some male characteristic but several didn’t. These were babes in every way. I eventually went to bed but didn’t sleep well.

In the middle of the night I awoke due to the glow from the CPU screen. A beautiful transwoman was looking up at me. She was sitting against a glass wall with her breasts exposed. I stiffened and within seconds came all over my hand. She was just a glamorous girl, a pinup for my late night release. I cleaned up and went back to try and sleep but I lay thinking of the girl I had left this evening at the pub. Her head was why I had fallen for her. Having a brain and a successful world of her own made her attractive yet I had reduced her to the level of this pinup. It was all about sex?

In the morning I couldn’t go to the office. I rung and told them I would be out today. I considered that it was me that had to reconcile the idea of being with a woman who didn’t have a pussy. Miranda had told me about her body because she wanted me to know that she felt complete even with the genitals she was born with. Several of the stories I read were written by women who had had their sex altering surgeries. I even found a Ted-Talk where one woman detailed how important her sex change was to the world.

By noon I had begun to consider my walking out as rude and impolite. I began to dial her cell but stopped. I would need to respect Miranda first and then to adjust my own issues as she was real and here.

A week later I still thought of Miranda each day but there was a wound of some kind in my head. I had fallen for another guy?

I try to find a perspective different than this but each time it failed. She maybe beautiful and uniquely feminine but she had the sex organs of a male.

It was easier after the day I stayed home but now eight days had past and I missed Miranda. Except every time I consider her genitals. Then I would wake up. I needed a distraction but I couldn’t dial the phone number of any of the three girls I had dated over the past months. It would take me time to realize why.

As the days passed I came to see that it was appropriate for me to consider this completely new situation carefully. But I was also in a kind of mourning for our lost love and my own lust. I now realized it was her responsibility to speak to me. She had acted properly. Now I had an opportunity to consider her and me independently. I had to move away from her but each day I spent more time building my awareness of her world and those who decided to be unique and female. After ten days I had begun to see her differently. After nearly two weeks of consideration it seemed to me that Miranda’s transition was ultimately a creative act.

Then I saw a video in honor of Bowie’s passing :

‘ the stars are out tonight ‘

In the video the director seems to re-cast Bowie through four androgynous gender roles of the other characters to the point where Bowie was looking at the girl playing him from an earlier period. This freedom to chose one’s direction illustrated by the video allowed me a perspective on Miranda’s changing gender. I began to see her as a new normal rather than the response of hysteria I might have allowed a few weeks ago.

Still having anal sex was on the table. I kept reminding myself of her by looking at the snaps on my phone. She was a woman not a guy now. I almost jump on the train to Oxford but the idea was irrational.

The nights were too long. I considered my options and dial her number three times only to click the call dead before it engaged. At three in the morning I awoke again and decided it was my will but not my duty to reach out to her; to call her.