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American Ladyboy By Cassandra Morgan No matter where in the world you are, no matter languages are being spoken around you, calculus is boring, it seems they teach the subject so people will know how to torture spies. And so, half a globe away, Benjy Hawkins sat in his math class with his head resting on his arms, which were folded over his desk. The teacher droned on, his lilting accent punctuating his speech. The subject, and the speech, was more than Benjy could bear on a Thursday morning. It was a dull hum on top of a low buzz, and it made his head hurt. It sounded exotic enough, didn't it? The School for American Students at the Chandri Naval Base in Singapore. And, yeah, it was a pretty enough. But school is school, and lectures are lectures, and boredom is boredom. And so Benjy, the 18-old-son on Benjamin "Bulldog" Hawkins, a commander in the U.S. Navy who served as a liaison to the Singapore forces, put his face in the crook of his elbow and waited for the noise to cease. Around him, other kids -- American and Singaporean, Chinese and Thai -- drew on their notebooks. They stared out the windows. Not many of them paid attention. Which is when Amy Powell, who sat behind Benji noticed something. She giggled, then she poke the girl next to her -- Nessa Carlson -- and pointed. Soon, there was a different tone to the buzz. There was open laughter. "What is the problem?" the teacher, Phan Ji, asked the classroom. "Oh, nothing, sir," Amy answered. "Please tell," Ji said. "What is commotion?" "Well, it's Benjy," Amy said. "Yeah. He's wearing a bra," Nessa laughed. And then the noise raised, and the laughter became louder, and the comments started to come. "Hey, Hawkins," Seth Rayburn snorted. "You wearing panties, too." "Jesus," said Tai Pheong. "Again?" "What a fag." "I bet Commander Daddy is real proud of you, Benjy." "You guys leave her alone," Delia Jenson snapped. "She's not hurting you if she wants to dress up like a girl." "Yeah, you say that because you're his fag hag." "Hey, Benjy. Wipe your chin.. Someone left some sperm there." With that, Ji motioned to Benjy. Without a word, the moved slowly down the hallway, toward the big office near the front. "You wait here," Ji said. And so Benji took a seat out of the principal's office. Again. He had been caught four times this year alone. Once, he was wearing lipstick. Once, he was wearing ankle-high stockings. This was the second time he had been caught because his bra showed through the light blue shirts of the school uniform. Shit. He was in trouble again. And he waited to face the music. * * "Again?" Bulldog Hawkins shook his head. He had vowed not to raise his voice, but when your youngest child wouldn't stay out of lingerie, what the hell was a father to do? "Why do you keep doing this shit...stuff." "Now, Ben, calm down," Nancy Hawkins put her hand on her husband's arm. "This shouldn't surprise us anymore." "Christ, Nancy. Why can't Benjy be more like his brothers. Hell, he isn't as manly as his sister. Did that freak really come from me?" "Benjy is different than Bo and Luke," Nancy said. "He's more... gentle. You know that. Some kids are just born ... different." "Mom, I'm sorry," Benjy said. "I forgot I had it on." "How do you forget you're wearing a bra?" his father snapped. "I may never be able to forget it." The principal, Charlie Nyung, lifted his hand for silence. "Mr. Hawkins, Mrs. Hawkins," he said carefully. "I know this is a family affair. But it disrupts our school, our education process. We need to do something. I think Benjy has a problem." "He does," my father said. "He thinks he's a girl." "Do you want to be a girl, Benjy?" My mother asked. "No....maybe....sometimes," Benjy babbled. "I don't know what I want." "Is it a guy/" my father snarled. "Do you want a guy?" Benjy looked at the floor. He said nothing. Mr. Nyung raised his hand again. "Mr. Hawkins, Mrs. Hawkins," he said. "We have a ... counselor who talks to transgender youth on Fridays. Do you think Benjy would be interested?" "They talk?" Nancy said. "Just talk. They share their experiences, like an AA group." "Will it help Benji?" My father asked, his voice softer now, as if he were considering the possibilities. "Will it make him a man?" Mr. Nyyng shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "There have been instances where the student was going through a phase, rebelling somehow. But you can't think of this as a cure. There is every possibility that your son seems himself as a feminine creature." "Like...." Mr. Nyong sighed. "We have ladyboys in Singapore," he said. "Not as many as in Thailand. Not even as many as in the Philippines. But we have them. You can see them gather at night near Orchard Towers. Benji could be one of them." "I don't want him hurt," my father said. "I know a lot of sailors who will beat the snot out of a girlyboy." "Ladyboy," Mr. Nyong said. "They're called Kathoey in Thailand. Bakla in the Philippines A lot of cultures have their own names. They're considered a third sex in Asia." "You seem to know a lot about it," Nancy said. "Yes," Mr. Nyong said. "My daughter is a ladyboy." "Oh, my God," Nancy said. "How do you deal with it?" Mr. Nyong looked away. "It....it can be hard," he said. "I was disappointed at first. Some ladyboys will tell you their parents are fully accepting. I try to be, but who dreams of their child being another gender. But she's smart, and she's pretty, and she's honorable. And the last thing I would ever want is for her to hurt herself. She takes this counseling sessions, too." "My first son was all-state in football," my father said. "American football. That was when we were back in California. My second son was a great wrestler. That was when we were in Guam. My daughter Lilly played softball. But Benjy...just watches TV." "Our children are all different," Mr. Nyong said. "Do you want to go to counseling?" My father said, turning toward Benjy. Benjy shrugged. "There will be other boys like you," my mother said. "You don't have to do anything." Benjy thought about it for a moment. Then he nodded. At least they might not make fun of him there. Birds of a feather boa, and all that. * * The young Filipina woman in the yellow summer dress stood at the front of the room, behind the lectern, and pushed a strand of her long black hair out of her face. She smiled at the crowd, which were around her in a semi-circle of folding chairs. "Hello," she said. "My name is Kiko, and I'm Bakla. Transgender." "Hello, Kiko," responded the crowd. "Mrs. Watson has asked me to start today's meeting. I see we have a new face. Benjy, it says here." "Hello, Benjy," the crowd said in unison. "Benjy, you will find comfort here. You will find peace, and acceptance, no matter how deeply your own journey goes. We are a welcoming sort. Most of us consider ourselves women, so please treat us as such, and in return, you will find friends that you have not known. "My story? Benjy, even when I was a little boy, I was a little girl. (Laughter). I was always a girl. I wanted to be in my sister's clothes long before I knew there was anything wrong with it. And for a long time afterward. I played with dolls. I made jewelry. I was a pretty lousy boy child, if you wan to know the truth. "It was a struggle. I grew up in Manila, and bakla is more accepted there that in most places. But it was hard on my mother and my father. There was no grand discussion like in the movies. One day, I was here, and the next, I was a girl. It just felt right, you know?" In the crowd, several of the women nodded their heads. When Benji looked closely, he could tell that most of the women were not born that way. Yet, they all found their way to women's clothing, to women's underwear, to women's mannerisms. What does that tell you? Their languages are different, and their countries, and still, some men are born to be women. It simply made sense. "When we get a new member," Kiko continued, "it makes us reflect on our own backgrounds, as to why we live this way. But we must. To question it is to question why the sky is blue, why water is wet. Benjy, I don't know if you're like the rest of us. I don't know if you're really a woman waiting to blossom. But we will be proud to walk with you into the Pink Dot. We are your sisters, your new family, and we will never turn our backs to you." There was applause, and a couple of the women stood as they clapped. Benjy turned to Sarah Watson, the counselor. "What's the Pink Dot?" "It's kind of a Gay Price gathering," Sarah said. "They have them all over the world now. But it started in Singapore." Benjy nodded. Kiko approached him, and Benjiystood. She threw her arms around him. "Welcome, sister," she said. "You should have worn a dress." "Ah, well, it's my first time...." "Don't sweat it, Benjy. Just be who you are when you are here." The applause grew. "Speech," someone yelled. And then Benjy was on his way to the podium. "Hello," he said. "My name is Benjy. And I guess I'm a transvestite." "Hello, Benjy." "I...I don't know what to say," he said as the crowd quieted. "I would like to thank you for the warm welcome. It means a lot. Most of us grow up alone, dressing in the dark, hiding in the shadows, always trying to stay away from the eyes of others." Benjy paused, gathering his thoughts. "I don't say this to act as if my story is different than yours. But I've always felt overwhelmed. I was raised in foreign countries by an overbearing father, by intimidating brothers. I've been surrounded by military might, my languages I didn't understand, by a world that felt different from me. Women's clothing....well, okay, women's clothing were an escape for me. Hell, if I had grown up in Ohio, I'd still dress. But because I was lost, they were my lifeline. Being abnormal made me feel normal, if that makes any sense. "I'm sure many of you were the same as me, sneaking into our sister's room, feeling her clothes, smelling them touching them. And finally, putting them on, the temptation overcoming the fear of getting caught. Again. I'm sure you watched movies and imagined yourself to be the Belle instead of the Beast, or Juliet instead of Romeo. And we fought our own degree of shame as we did it, as though we could have put out this fire in our souls But we could not. "I stand here, humbled and envious, envious because you all felt comfortable to come to this meeting dressed. You are beautiful. All of you. And where you lead me, I will follow. Again, I am overwhelmed. But this time, it's in a good way. I am overwhelmed by your grace, and your kindness, and your femininity. And I am pleased to be among your number." The applause followed Benjy to his seat. It didn't matter what he wore. It didn't matter what sort of dreams he had. These were his people. This would be his way. And, God, he wished he had on a little lipstick. * * "You did so well, Benjy," Sarah said after the meeting. "I was so proud of you." "I'm proud of these women," Benji said. "I don't know the girls yet, but I will." "You're one of them now, if. you wish to be," Sarah said. "I thought you were supposed to make me a linebacker," Benjy said. "My father's son." "Only if that's who you choose to be, Benjy. We aren't a conversion camp. We're about acceptance, that's all." "Hey, Blondie. Nice speech." Benjy turned around. It was Kiko, grinning as she approached. "Hello, Kiko. I hope I made sense." "You were wonderful," Kiko said. She turned to Sarah. "Wasn't Blondie wonderful?" "Blondie, huh," Sarah grinned. "Blonde ladyboys are highly valued in Singapore," Kiko said. "It's a compliment." "Ladyboy?" "You know about ladyboys, don't you Blondie?" Kiko grinned. "A lot of male sailors love ladyboys. Some of them bring them back to the states as their wives." "They do?" "Hey, no one is going to check yours panties," Kiko said. "You want us to find you a sailor to marry? I bet I could." "You haven't even seen me as a woman yet." "Speaking of that, a few of us are going out Friday night to the Boom Boom Room. You wanna come?" "In drag?" "En femme." "I...I don't know. Maybe..can I get back to you?" "Blondie. Don't back out on us. Just go and have fun. Wear a dress, or dress in drab and be my date. Either way. Okay? You have to start to live." Benjy nodded. He exhaled. This was a big step. He just had to decide if he would be wearing heels when he made it. * * When Benjy got home, his mother was in the dining room, preparing dinner. She didn't have half of her family with her -- Lilly was in college in Texas, Bo was training in San Diego and Luke was in Hawaii -- but she was determined to take care of the ones she had. "Oh, hi, Benjy," she said when she saw her son walk through the door. "How was school." "It was school," he said. "How was the counselor's?" "It was .... it was good." "Yeah?" Nancy said, lifting her eyebrows. "Yeah, Sarah is cool. I met a girl named Kiko. She's the daughter of Mr. Nyong." "He mentioned ... her." "Yeah. She's cool, too." "Anything else happen?" "Well, I .... Mom, what if it turns out that I'm a girl?" "What if you are?" "Well, will you and dad kick me out? Will you hate me?" "We'll never hate you, Benjy. We knew that when you started going to meetings, you might decide to be a girl. We just didn't think it would happen after one meeting." "Mom, I've never felt so accepted in my life. Hell, I felt odd that I wasn't dressed as a girl." "Maybe next time you can be." "You wouldn't mind?" "Benjy, we've known you weren't G.I. Joe for a long time. I can't say I want my little boy to get a sex change, but if that's what he wants....what she wants....I'll adjust. I didn't have kids to throw any away." Nancy wrung her hands. It was time to ask. "Benjy, do you like boys or girls...that way." "I don't know, Mom. That's the truth. Eddie Taylor kissed me at Karen Robbins' birthday party." "Oh?" "It was nice. But we didn't do anything. I mean, we just kissed." "Have you ever kissed girls?" "Of course I have." "Well, why did you tell me about Eddie first?" "You were asking ... if I was gay. That's as close as I've come." "And now? Is there a guy you like?" "I think Brian Pickens is cute, but he doesn't know I'm alive." Nancy smiled. "His loss, sweetie. Now, when are you going out with your friends?" "Kiko asked me to go out with a group on Friday. I'm thinking about it." Nancy nodded. "As a girl?" "My choice." "Well, here's an idea. Why don't you find some clothes to wear as a boy, and see if you like them. Then try on some girls' clothes, and see what you think." "You'd let me do that?" "You're 18," Nancy said. "I don't think it's up to me, or your dad. We'll be okay. Your father may be the Great Santini, but he loves you." "Mom? I'm scared. I've never been out in public." Nancy nodded. "Why don't you take me to your room and show me what you have?" They trudged up the stairs. For a few steps, Benjy would walk in a hurry. Then he would slow down. It was a dead man's walk, and it was a sprint to the future, both at once. In his room, Benji moved a couple of duffle bags (Navy luggage) and brought out a faded blue gym bag. He pulled a white dress out it. A gray skirt and a Burgundy blouse. Some underwear. A pair of heels. "Is that it?" "Sometimes...somethings I go into Lilly's closet. She didn't take everything when she went to college." "How often do you dress?" "Three times a week. Maybe four. As often as I can." Nancy held up a pair of white panties with ruffles. "Put these on for me." Benjy's eyes widened. Then he untucked his jeans and let them fall to the floor. Nancy giggled as she saw her son was already wearing a pair of black panties with white lace. Slowly, Benjy changed. He put on a bra -- the fastener gave him no trouble -- and the white dress. He rolled stockings up his legs and stepped into his heels. "Can you do makeup?" His mother asked. Benjy nodded. "Do you have a wig?" "No ma'am." "Okay. Tomorrow, we buy you a good wig and some breast forms. Maybe some more panties. Would you like that?" "Yes, Mom." "Go into my closet. I have a black dress hanging there. I want to see how you fit in it." Benjy did. He loved the dress as soon as he stepped into it. It was light and made of something that felt like satin. "Now, let's finish making dinner," Nancy said. "Your dad will be home in a few minutes." "But, Mom. I can't let him see me like this." "Sweetheart, the whole world will see you like this soon. This is who you are. Do you have a name?" "Uh.. Belinda. But Kiko calls me Blondie." "Like the old comic strip?" "Like the rock group. Debbie Harry, you know." Nancy nodded. She led her new daughter downstairs. "You set the table, girl," she said. "I'll bring out the food." When Bulldog arrived home, at first, he thought Lilly was there. That was impossible, since she was in college. Then he realized he was seeing Benjy in his dress, with his lips and nails decorated. He sighed and shook his head. He had traded in a son for a new daughter. Dinner went smoothly. His father was pleasant, but he was clearly in a daze. His mother talked as if she was carrying on a conversation with Lilly. And Benjy ... Blondie ... felt as if his heart would burst. * * Decisions. Damn, there were a lot of decisions that went into becoming a ladyboy. Did Benjy go the school as Blondie? (No, not yet, but everyone noticed that he and Kiko were friends). Was he more interested in girls than boys (Too soon to tell, but Thad Chambers stared at him, and he felt all funny inside)? Should he stay with a blonde wig? (Of course). Did he eventually want to get breast implants? (Silly question. Who doesn't?) Should he tell his siblings? (Mom took care of that). Blondie walked around, and for the first time, he began to notice the sheer beauty of Singapore. So many gardens. So many temples. So much water. He loved going to the Cloud Forest or Merlion Park or riding the cable car. As a boy, this city had seemed so foreign with all of its languages and traditions. As a girl, he seemed like Disney World. Blondie loved it. On Friday night, Blondie had thought the gang was riding the MRT (rail system) and meeting at the Boom Boom Room. Instead, Kiko came by in a white limousine, a rare sight in Singapore. Janis and her wife Hu were with her. (Blondie discovered they were an older couple, married for a decade until James had become Janis.) They four of them ate seafood -- it was wonderful -- and laughed and carried on, and the other customers barely paid attention. They strolled past Orchard Towers -- the locals called it "Four Floors of Whores" -- and marveled as the city glistened in the dark. Blondie kept spinning and taking in the sights, ad inviting the world, in turn, to see her. She was out, and she was proud. The Boom Boom Room is a cabaret of drag performers -- the great Kamar started here. The group sat at a table, drinking an exotic foreign drink. They commented on the performers -- the overweight comedian, the sultry performers, the male (who hadn't started life that way) stripper. After the performances ended, a group of seamen came to their table and invited the four of them to the dance floor. They danced -- even Janis and Hu split up to dance with the sailors -- for almost an hour without sitting. Blondie's new trend was named Tag, a tall kid from Arkansas. He rubbed against her, and he kissed her between the third and fourth song they danced to. It was an electric night. So many dormant sensations were alive in Blondie now. Then the noise began. The sailor who had been dancing with Hu was upset. He and his buddies had gone out to score ladyboys, and Hu was, well, a biological woman. Kiko had calmed him down, kissing him on the dance floor, then kissing her own dance partner. Two men was just a warm-up for Kiko. It was Blondie's coming out party. Tag had taken her to a cheap hotel room, and had attacked him with the vigor of a pent-up woman who had denied. her urges her whole life. She blew him before they reached the bed. He had kissed her, and she had fished his dick out of his pants, and without any hesitation, her lips were around him. Blondie had read that some first-sex experiences aren't good. This one was fireworks. Before he came, she knew her sexual preference. She was a woman who liked a good cock; sue her. ** * "A job? You got us a job?" Kiko sat back, smiling. "I got us a job." "Doing what?" "Being hostesses. You left with Popeye the other night, but Jeon Kun, the owner of the Boom Boom Room, said he was looking for hostesses. So we'd serve drinks and food to the customers." "Like a waitress?" "Well, there are extra benefits." "Extra benefits?" "Yes. You get to take some customers home and show him Shangri-La." "Prostitutes? You want us to become hookers?" "Keep your voice down. That way, we can get an apartment downtown. It isn't anything we don't give away for two run-and-cokes." "I don't know, Kiko, Do you let just anyone fuck you?" "Yes. Then I fuck him." "You what?" "I'm kind of, how to do say, a top," Kiko said, giggling. "I like to peg American sailors. Fire the old torpedo into their butts." "Eww." "What ew? Is being a bottom any better? There are millions of ladyboy buttons. This is more fun." "Kiko, you are strange and wonderful creature." "So let's try it. We can be like Japanese Geishas, only without all that bathing stuff. You've got a lot of catching up to do, Blondie. Hell, the last girl left to get married. You might find yourself a husband." "More likely, I'd find someone else's." "That's not bad either, is it?" * * And so Blondie's sex life began in earnest. She would go to school in the mornings -- she was dressing as Blondie these days, not that the other students were surprised -- then nap. She would wait tables during the stage shows at night, then most nights, she would bring a man back to the apartment for fun and games. Blondie was a wild girl. She had sex in the club, sex in cars, sex in closets. She learned to love oral and anal and any mixture of the two. She was spanked, and she role-played. I Her hair grew. Her breasts grew. Her wardrobe grew. And her visitors' penises? They certainly grew. One night, an older Chinese man asked her to sit. She looked round, then sat. Another client, she thought. But this one was different. The man was Chang-Fo, an importer from Bejing. He told Blondie that she was a vision, that he had talked to her boss about a long-term relationship. He would pay the money that she would make as a prostitute if he would live with her as his concubine. How do you say "Sugar Daddy" in Mandarin? "I live with my best friend," Blondie said. "There is another room in my apartment," he said elegantly. "She can keep you company when I am away on business." "She likes men," Blondie said. " A lot." "As long as you remain faithful, that is not my concern," he said. "I won't marry you," Blondie said. "I already have a wife," Chang shrugged. "You will get a generous allowance. If you want further surgeries, I will pay for them. And I will be in town a couple of nights a week. It is a good deal for you." And so Blondie became a kept woman. In the bedroom, Chang was a gentle lover, a toucher, a kisser. He wasn't as ... vigorous ... as Kiko's lovers, but he was sweet. And the apartment was huge. Blondie decided that life as a ladyboy was perfect. * * On the streets, Blondie still turned heads. For one thing, she was an American, a blonde woman with a great smile. Men noticed her. Sometimes, women did, too. She loved to walk through the market, shopping for shoes or a new purse, and see the reactions she would get. It was a Sunday when she was walking through by herself -- Kiko was off spanking someone, she imagined -- she bumped into a sailor. He was a tall man, a black man. "Slow down, lady," he said. "I'm sorry," Blondie said. "I wasn't looking where I was going." "Were you coming to see me?" "Sure, I was. If only I had known you existed." The sailor laughed. "I'm Caleb Driscoll. I'm an E-3." "I'm Blondie. I"m A-1." "You certainly are. Can I buy you a cup of tea." "I ... I have someone," Blondie said. "I'd be amazed if you didn't, Blondie. I'm just talking about tea." "I'd love a cup." They sat outside of a small cafe. "Where are you from, sailor?" "I'm from Iowa," he said. "We're a long way from home." "A bit," Blondie said. "Where are you from, Blondie?" "I'm from all over. I came here with my family." "Family?" "My father is in the Navy," Blondie said. "Yeah? Do I know him?" "Maybe. Have you ever heard of Ben Hawkins?" "Bulldog Hawkins? You're his daughter?" Blondie smiled. "Full disclosure? I used to be his son." Caleb looked her up and down. "Damn," he said, whistling. "Lot of us over here," Blondie said. "Ladyboys? Yeah, I know. Command warns us about you ladies, and it is a red flag to some of these guys." "Thank God," Blondie said. Caleb laughed. "Hey, you want to go to the zoo? They have a great zoo here." "I told you. I have someone." "I'm not asking you to marry me," Caleb said. "Just look at the pandas. Ok? Eat some peanuts. Laugh." And so she went to the zoo with Caleb, and they had a grand time. No touching, no kissing. Just talking and hanging out. It was a very pleasant afternoon for Blondie, and that night, when she closed her eyes, Caleb's face was still there. * * They became friends, close friends, even though they kept their relationship platonic. Blondie even introduced him to Kiko, if case she wanted to take him to bed. They would walk in the gardens, and they would hold hands. Then he started to kiss her good night on the cheek. Outside, they were just buddies; inside, the steam was building. But Blondie had Chang, and she was faithful. For a long time. Okay, it wasn't a scheme born of evil intent. Caleb and Blondie had been out drinking, and he had slept on her couch. The next morning, he woke up and went into the shower. That was how she found him, toweling off his magnificent body as she walked into the bathroom. She stood, her jaw agape, as Caleb stood there nude. His abs were flat and his muscles were pronounced, but what Blondie could not take her eyes off was his cock, dangling down an impossible length from his groin, an invitation to playtime. Caleb looked at her. He dropped his towel. "Come here, Blondie," he said. Transfixed, she shuffled to him. He kissed her on her forehead, then gently pushed on her shoulders. She fell to her knees and kissed his penis tenderly, then furiously.. By now, Blondie had had a lot of cocks, but this was different. It tasted different. It felt different. She licked the head gently, then closed her lips over it. She gripped the base with both hands and began to bob. She cupped his testicles. She gently ran her fingernails over his penis, then followed it with butterfly kisses. When he came, in torrents, she was hungry for it. This was the best. She would spend a long time on her knees. She would kiss the small of his back, the crook of his underarm, the folds of his ass. She could not get enough. From then on, they were lovers when Chang was out of town. It was a nice life. Until it wasn't. One day, Caleb and she were at their cafe. He wasn't saying much. "What's wrong, Caleb?" Blondie said. "I'm...I'm shipping out," he said. "Going home. My deployment is over. I'll be in Washington State next week." "Oh, no. Caleb, I'm going to miss you so much." "You don't have to," he said. "What are you talking about?" "Come with me. Marry me. You can take a flight into Seattle, and we tell everyone we're married. It'll be good, Blondie." "I...can I think about it, Caleb?" And she did. She thought about being Caleb's wife, about trying to pass to the American public, about cooking his meals and keeping his home. She wasn't that kind of a woman, she didn't think. She was too young, and she had too much spirit. "I don't want you to go," Kiko said. "I probably won't. But Caleb is sweet." "You haven't even had sex yet." "That's part of the attraction. It would be about discovery." "He'll throw you out, and then where are you?" "He won't." "Don't marry him." Kiko said. "Please." Blondie looked up at her friend. "Why not?" she said. "Because I want you to stay here and marry me instead." Blondie laughed. "We're both girls." "Kind of," Kiko said. "So what?" "You don't want me," Blondie said. With that, Kiko moved closer. Their eyes were locked, and they could hear each other's heartbeats. Their lips were like the whispers of hummingbirds as they touched. Kiko smelled sweet, and soft. Somewhere, angels were playing wind chimes. Sometimes, couples fall in love with the things they have in common. Sometimes, the differences attract. With Kiko and Blondie, it was both. They played with each other's breasts, and they caressed each other's cocks. Kiko mounted Blondie and showed that, yes, she was a top. They tasted each other's bodies, and they smelled each other's odors, and they finished the trip of falling in love. Kiko's cock wasn't as big as Caleb's, but it was larger than Blondie's, and it functioned just fine. She loved Kiko's small breasts on her back as they made love. She loved laying and playing with her hair. More than anything, she loved kissing Kiko's lips. She had never been in love like this. They shopped for matching weeding gowns. They met with their parents. They made lover in the early dawn and late night. Was it gay? Maybe. They both had penises. Was it lesbianism? Maybe. They both lived as women, dressed as women, went out as women. Was it something else? Maybe. Blondie and Kiko rejected all labels and invited all scorn. They were a couple, those women who steal kisses while at dinner, who sneak off the bathroom to fix their lipstick and, when they come back, it is as mussed as ever. Ladyboy? Yeah, you could call Blondie that. Bakla? Check. Kathoie? Check. Blondie was made for this life. She loved her dresses. She loved her heels. She loved the way her hair spilled over her shoulders. And, yes, she loved Kiko. Her man. Her woman. Her lover. Hand-in, hand, they would walk toward tomorrow. Copyright, 2020 Casandra Morgan