Larry Lets His Hair Down

By Selbryth Lannigan

Larry just wanted to see one, a real one. He'd seen pictures of kathoe online but he couldn't see how those pictures were telling the truth: no one born male could possibly look so...feminine! Then he was there, in the very epicenter of his newfound fantasy; ready, willing and able to do whatever it took to find the truth and to indulge his carnal cravings. Then a tropical storm intercedes, thrusting him not only into the world of transgender eroticism, but allowing long-repressed urges and desires to surface; ones that take him beyond what even he could have imagined.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Selbryth Lannigan
• Release date: Apr 13, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370993741

Selbryth Lannigan

I've been writing fiction since the mid 1980s, both short and long works, and turned to erotic fiction at around the same time. I have published on the Literotica site under the singular name Selbryth and have also sold hundreds of short 'anonymous' pieces to the pulp erotic publications of the time: Letters Magazine and Hustler's Busty Beauties being just two. Focusing on sexuality beyond what some would consider the 'norm', my characters include t-girls (trannies, kathoey, newhalf, shemales, ladyboys) cross-dressers, sissified and transformed males, gays and lesbians, who engage in a variety of fetishes, kinks and sexy hijinks.Though explicitly described, the stories themselves offer an inner dialog which most times borders on the romantic. There is no death, very little violence and hopefully the reader is left feeling good.

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Notice of Copyright

Copyright 2016 by Selbryth Lannigan

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Printed in the United States of America

First Printing, 2016

Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction and is intended for mature audiences (18+). All characters and other entities appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, dead or alive, or other real-life entities, past or present, is purely coincidental.

Larry Lets His Hair Down

1 - Trippin'

The entire trip took nearly 30 hours. Larry had napped, eaten, stared out the windows of the plane, napped more, and thought a lot. At several points during the flight he'd wake up to find himself sitting in the same seat, with the same subdued throb of the engines filling his ears and the same first-class cabin surrounding him. Outside the window he'd see the same sundrenched clear blue sky seeming to hang there unmoving. Only the slowly passing layer of clouds, miles below, showed any sign that they were moving at all. It was like waking to the same nightmare he'd left hours before.

A nightmare of sameness.

Several times he'd the urge to get up and leave, but just like making it to the fourth hour of sitting in the jury duty waiting room, there was no way to escape.

In a way it reminded him of his recently ended 27 years of marriage.

But at least there was wine or champagne. Nice things to munch on as well.

And to see.

When he'd boarded the plane, the stewardesses greeting the passengers had been from the very place he was heading to. They were all very pretty in that delicate Asian sort of way, and though he knew their brightly smiling faces were as much a requirement of their job as were their cute uniforms, they were nonetheless pleasant to look at.

But he did find himself wondering, wondering if at least one of them was in fact the very embodiment of his interest - of this entire trip - concealed now in formality and cheerfulness. But cheerfulness and warm smiles were good; they were the exact opposite - and hopefully remedy for - all of the bitterness and ugliness of his divorce.

He thought back to his first attempts at finding relief from that explosive end to things - from the discovery of how long his wife had been cheating on him and then finding her unrepentant and arrogant about it as well.

Still Larry had more than he needed; more in all things, but one.

And now freed, he'd needed to find at least one shining example of that one thing; the very embodiment of that newly won freedom. While still back in the States he'd tried to explore this fantasy, going to a particular local club that he'd read about, expectant and hopeful about that one thing, but finding quite another.

It had been close but there hadn't been a cigar; at least not the brand he'd been after.

Then there'd been those online sites featuring beautiful nubile coeds (all from the Ukraine or Russia or Romania - apparently the only places which produced such creatures) with sweet, almost bashful smiles on their faces, striking poses which left nothing to the imagination. He'd thought to send one of these pictures to one of his best Photoshop guys, just to see if what was apparently growing from this one beauty's crotch was real or not.

He'd decided not to, wanting his little fantasy to remain unproved and untouched.

But still needing a real life remedy and not wanting to go to Europe again - fearing that he might run into one of those online Czech models and finding they really had been Photoshopped - he decided to go the other way around the globe, visiting places he'd never before traveled to.

And so, leaving his business affairs in the capable hands of his son, he packed up and headed off for a long overdue vacation, with the express purpose of indulging himself in this one particular fantasy.

'Another Old Fashioned?' a charmingly soft voice asked, and Larry looked up and nodded. The stewardess smiled and went quickly back to make his drink. He let his eyes follow her until the seatback hid her from view, then settled back and glanced out at the never ending landscape of the clouds down below.

A slight smile crossed his lips when the realization hit him again that he was actually doing it, actually winging his way towards what was for all intents and purposes the capital of those of that certain exotic type; a type that went beyond the almost commonplace allure of Asian figures and faces; even ones as beautiful as his stewardess.

The only thing was, he'd found himself wishing Concorde was still in operation.

2 - Window Shopping

After unpacking Larry realized the suite he'd arranged for was far too large. He'd forgone the penthouse, thinking he would blend in more easily with people of less wealth, but still, this three bedroom suite with its huge common area, whirlpool hot tub, full kitchen and spacious balcony seemed a bit excessive.

He strolled over to the sliding doors, and opening them, smiled out over a perfect view of the ocean. It seemed endless, timeless, and for just a moment he felt irritated for never before having allowed himself this kind of experience.

Then the sound of honking horns and an ambulance screaming by down below distracted him, and seeing the milling tourists moving on the crowded streets and sidewalks below, he smiled to himself.

Somewhere. Somewhere down there I'll find you...

Twenty minutes later, dressed in uncomfortably new Bermuda shorts and matching shirt, he flip-flopped his way to the elevators and headed down. Once in the bar he sat back sipping an Old Fashioned, watching the pretty tourist girls go by.

Most, as he saw, were from either Europe or the States; college girls out for a romp before returning to class. But there were a few others which caught his eye.

Asians from various parts of the world also pranced or giggled or slunk passed his position of relative concealment behind a potted palm. These too seemed to be tourist girls going along in their little bunches of three or four or eight or ten, heading out for their own fun in the sun before returning to their own institutions of higher education.

For a moment Larry thought back to his own college days, the carefree feel of it; the youthful, fit bodies and the laughter.

Then he recalled that he'd never actually felt carefree even back then. And he'd been neither fit, nor able to laugh very much.

Shrugging, he sipped his drink and continued to enjoy the scenery.

One of his corporations dealt with beauty products, while another was a small but successful entity in the high fashion modeling world. He had seen countless photos and portfolios and resumes, trying to keep his hand in on the workings of those companies; more out of sheer boredom than anything else.

So over the years he had developed an eye for not only beautiful photogenic young women, but also for what part of the world they came from. And as he sat there girl-watching he silently ticked off the various countries represented by the youthful faces passing by: Chinese mainland; Taiwanese; Japanese; Okinawan; Korean; Filipino, Malaysian. And then he sat up a little higher in his chair.

Eight Thai girls entered through the automatic front doors to the hotel, laughing and giggling to themselves. They were dressed to the nines, sparkling purses swinging against their swaying hips, looking like high-fashion models strutting down the runway.

Larry turned and studied them, studied the way they walked, the curves of their bodies, the width of their shoulders and hips, the shape of deltoids, lines of jaws and smoothness of their throats. It was only a moment before they all tromped by towards the hotel's shops, but he'd taken a mental snapshot of their legs and reviewed what he'd seen.

Pretty, shapely legs with cutely dimpled knees and slim ankles. There had only been glimpses of their feet and toes showing through the straps of their high heels but as he watched the back of them as they laughingly went into the first shop, Larry felt a warm stirring in the crotch of his Bermudas.

With just shoulder bags and purses, and heading off to the shops as they were, they didn't seem the typical Asian tourists. There was a certain carefree feel to the way they moved and chattered away, a familiarity to the lobby and restaurant and shops that was nothing like the fun-seeking but still timid way tourists - from any country - acted.

Larry decided that they were either a bunch of hotel workers having a final laugh before changing into their uniforms for the nightshift, or were bunch of that other kind of girl getting ready for another sort of nightshift.

Turning, he sat back in his seat. He'd stood halfway up to see over the plant-topped partition outlining the bar's Outside Lounge, but having seen what he'd just seen had him wondering.

And while he considered things he thought that perhaps he'd injected too much of his own hopes into what he'd just witnessed and realized that he was probably wrong; not about the nationality of the girls or their probable profession, but about what gender they were. Each of them seemed to be - from the tops of their long-haired heads, all the way down to the pale and pretty toes peeking out through their high heel straps - thoroughly and genuinely female.

No matter; they had all been stunningly gorgeous.

Getting up and stretching Larry then crouched a little, realizing he'd developed quite a bulge in his pants. When he was able to stand straight again, he left the bar and headed across the huge lobby to the restaurant.

As Larry indulged himself in an ultimately unhealthy bacon and cheese burger, he kept his eyes moving. Even from inside the restaurant he could see who was passing by. Most of the beauties actually within the dining area were there with escorts; either younger tourist couples or older gentlemen with what could've been their college-age daughters. But as he enjoyed his burger, Larry's thoughts returned to the mob of cute Thai girl's he'd seen earlier. So far that had been the closest he'd come to seeing what he'd traveled so far to see.

'Close, but no cigar again, buddy.' he whispered at his fries, and chuckled a bit.

After dinner Larry decided that his first day's girl-watching had met his expectations, and went to distract himself with a long - or maybe short, considering his less than fit fifty-eight years - stroll along the beach.

When he stepped through the main doors though, he had to check his watch: it seemed much later than he thought, the whole world seemingly dark and gloomy, with the streetlights just flickering on. But the time was close to what he'd expected it to be - even with the change of time-zones - and for a moment he simply stood there in the midst of the moving sea of laughing and chattering tourists and stared up into the sky, wondering what was going on.

Dark clouds swarmed overhead, moving slow and seeming to circle. He glanced over the heads and hats and piggy-backed kids of the crowd to the sea, and saw that it too looked rather gray and ominous. But he felt himself drawn to the ocean, to the beach. It had been years upon years since he'd felt the touch of waves on his feet. It had been at one of the Great Lakes - he couldn't remember which - but it had given him a sense of being touched by something endless, beyond his understanding, and he felt that along with everything else in his life, it was time to revisit and reclaim forgotten things.

Crossing with the light (which was more or less an exercise in futility because of the way people and cars both seemed to be colorblind) Larry finally made it to the beach. The sand was firmly packed by previous waves washing up, firm and with a nice slope down to the water. A breeze blew up from seaward, refreshing and exhilarating him, and for that moment he couldn't remember what had so been bothering him. A smile spread across his face as this pleasant pause in his life continued, and then, as if it had never been, he blinked and realized it was time to let his jetlag catch up with the place, and go back to the hotel.

But before he got halfway across the busy street again, the first big raindrops began to fall. They made half-dollar sized splats on the faded concrete when they hit. There were screams and laughter as tourists covered their heads and headed for cover, some of them slipping and skidding on the sidewalks. Larry took his time, his flip-flops not giving the best grip, and when he finally got to the main doors, he stopped to catch his breath beneath the overhang and turned to watch.

Rain-spattered people were dashing this way and that, trying to get back to their hotels,