Houston Ch. 1
Keywords: Houston, 1, Ch.,
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"This story is based on true events that happened to me in Houston TX during the summer of 1999."
The heat was oppressive when I stepped off the plane for a two-week stint in this town. I was not looking forward to the sticky summer heat that gets into your pores and makes you feel like you haven't showered in ages. Little was I to know that this trip was to open my eyes to the hidden world of transgendered love.
I worked for a national company as a construction manager, working on three projects in the Houston area. Normally it would have been a slam- dunk but one of the projects was hanging fire--problems with the suppliers had put it behind schedule. Me, I am 6'1, 210, have a beard and moustache and look kind of like an overgrown teddy bear. I am college educated and open to most anything, being from the liberal east coast. In the middle of my midlife crisis, I usually played around a little while travelling; my wife safely tucked away in the Northwest. I had been fooling around on the internet the past few weeks and found a girl named Heather on one of the dating service sites. We corresponded and it sounded like we would hit it off, so we made plans for the weekend that I was in town.
The week went slow- a tedium that would have driven a sane person crazy. Minutia picked away at your common sense and the hot, humid days did little to relieve the pressure. I took solace in the hopes for the weekend...some down time to rest the gray matter and recharge the soul. Little was I to know what lay in store.
Friday could not come too fast. We finished at the Sugarland site about five and I headed for the barn. Motel rooms blend together in a blur and lonely nights with the TV and all the paperwork make them more of a prison than a temporary abode. Solace sought in the laptop and the joys that imagination brings are your reward.
During the week Heather and I exchanged pleasantries and phone numbers over the internet, finally making telephone contact on Thursday night. We talked about life, about hobbies, about jobs and about the upcoming weekend. She said that she hadn't been out much and needed to feel like a real woman. In a foggy haze I glossed over the meaning, little realizing that there was a huge amount of double entendre in that statement. We talked some more...I got her address, arranged a time to meet on Saturday morning, and then sunk in to the slumber of exhaustion...her conversation playing over and over in my mind. "You will be pleasantly surprised" she had said, "I'm not your typical woman" she said, "I just want to be made in to a woman and feel what a woman needs to feel this weekend." It played over and over in my mind as I tossed sweat soaked in the bed, twisting and churning the sheets into a tangle. By morning I felt as I had run a marathon. I awoke and turned on the tube to get the weather...a habit from being in the construction industry...yep, today was going to be a cool one...only 99 for a high and humidity around 75 percent. Translate that into Texas-speak and you get typical Houston summer weather. I showered and cleaned up, still in a daze from the heat and boredom. In the shower I tried to alleviate some of the sexual pressure, or lack of it...to no avail. It was too hot even to get off with Rosy Palm and her five daughters.
After finishing the morning ablutions I dressed as comfortably as one could; a polo shirt and lightweight slacks with a pair of loafers. Too hot even for the undershorts (which I would later find out was a fortuitous move). I grabbed a gym bag with some extra clothes (who knows, I might score and like the proverbial boy scout, always prepared...or so I thought. Into the rental car and off around the loop to the Katy Freeway. "Head east " she had told me, "get off at the first exit then go north about five blocks. There's a Whataburger joint on the corner. Turn right and it's the maroon house on the right". The directions played through my brain like a tape recording...but what the hell was a whatchamacallit burger anyway? I found the house and pulled up into the driveway like I was instructed. Geez...nine in the morning and here I am, all gussied up and ready for what, I didn't know, and what's more I didn't care. Hmmm- paper on the front lawn and drapes drawn. Did I have the right place? Check over the fence- she said- she had a pool and sure enough, there it was. I grabbed my bag and scarffed up the paper. To the door and the bell...push and nothing happened. Time for the old knuckle torture on the door. Once, twice, three times I rapped- then it slowly swung open. My eyes traveled from the floor upward.
She stood in bare feet, somewhat rumpled and loose fitting jeans, a loose fitting t-shirt and then a face that could only be described as exquisitely feminine. Her lips cut a fine line, slim defined nose, high cheekbones and eyes that would melt a Canadian winter snow. She stood about five foot eight, crowned with black hair that cascaded over her shoulders to the middle of her back. Suddenly the humidity outside didn't bother me...the blood rushing from my brain to my groin like a bumbling teenager out for his first piece.
"Heather?" I questioned, asking her name like some star smitten kid.
"Oh Hi" came the reply, "you must be Ted. Don't just stand there, come on in and make yourself comfortable."
Mesmerized, all I could do was to stand there like the proverbial cat that ate the canary. She reached out her hand and took mine, pulling me into the house and closing the door. The digs were quite adequate...a ranch style house with three bedrooms, combination living and family room and a kitchen. She held onto my hand and steered me towards the family room and kitchen area (my God, her hands were soft and warm; almost electric to the touch) finally stopping near the coffee maker.
"I'm not human till I've had a cup. You want one too?"
"Heck yes", was all I could muster, "just black and an ice cube if you have one."
As she handed me the cup I noticed just a hint of perfume in the air. My senses came alive like a racehorse coming out of the gate at the track. She looked to be about 30 or so, well maintained and very proportionate. Slim hips, narrow waist and just enough on top to be noticed through the loose fitting shirt. No bra I noticed, as her nipples perked up and made little bumps in the fabric. Weight, I would find out later, was about 135. Not to skinny, yet pleasingly formed. Electricity flowed through our fingers as we touched while she handed me the cup of joe.
We stood in the kitchen for what seemed to be an eternity, small talk and suggestive glances whizzing back and forth as we became acquainted. Heather was a programmer for a couple of small computer research firms, sort of free lancing to pick up enough bucks to pay the mortgage. I found out she had a daughter, about 7, if I remember, who was living with her ex. Man, I thought, what kind of husband would give up a lady like this? Little did I know what the real truth of the matter was.
We finished our coffee and I leaned back against the counter to relax. Heather moved closer to me and, with a devilish twinkle in her eyes, reached up to play with my neck and ear. Imperceptibly we moved together, he face lifting towards mine, eyes closed and lips starting to pucker slightly. I bent down a fraction and brushed my hand across her cheek, then ever so gently, kissed her on the nose; then eyelid; and finally to her lips. Her eyes fluttered as we made contact, lips opening ever so slightly to invite my tongue into that sweet moistness. Her tongue brushed across my lips as we made contact slowly melting into each other's arms. She stepped into me, the points of her breasts erect and digging into my chest like hot pokers. We stayed like that, gently exploring each other with our tongues and fingers for several minutes.
"Mmmm" she whispered, "feels like you have something that I want" as her hands roamed lower, feeling the outline of the bulge in my slacks. Her tongue got more active as the tips of her fingers played with the head of my cock through the pants; fingernails raking over the shaft and stroking downward to the tip. I felt the end moisten with pre-cum as she palmed the head and rubbed it gently. My hands were not idle at the moment. They seemed to have minds of their own as I palmed her nipples through the shirt. Heather moaned some more and thrust her tongue harder into my mouth, pressing herself into me like a hot, succulent flower wrapping itself around a trellis. Silently we moved our hips together in a lewd dance of passion, probing at each other, parrying each thrust with another gyration of the hip then flexing the knees to get under and leverage our sex against the underside of our groins. We ground into each other for several minutes till we were both gasping for air, gulping it down in large gulps between the coffee and the groping.
Silently we looked into each other's eyes, knowing that neither of us could last much longer before lust took over our brains. She held out her hand once again and led me to the bedroom.
"Hot damn" I thought, "this is one hell of a day and it isn't even ten in the morning yet."
The bed was a bit disheveled, I could see that I had either woken her up or she had just gotten up when I arrived. We stood at the foot of the bed and embraced again, our lips playing hide and seek with the skin on our necks and earlobes. Soft groans escaped our lips as we explored our bodies with our tongues. Heather reached out and started to unbuckle my belt, her hand straying down to my enlarged organ. I reached down and started to pull her shirt over her head...she paused for a moment, then acquiesced as my hands traveled under the thin material and roamed over her chest and back. Off it came, pulling her dark hair off her shoulders and making it cascade across her breasts, hiding the firm buds of her nipples. Gently I swept it aside as I dipped my head lower to capture the firm flesh of her right nipple, tonguing it gently and sucking on it like a man possessed.
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Keywords: Houston, 1, Ch.,