Sex and the Single Transsexual

By Pamela Hayes

Julie Lawson is an African-American transsexual, who has it all, beauty, intelligence, loving friends and a supportive family. But Julie wants romance in her life and it isn't easy for a woman like her to find that special someone. Sex. Julie has no trouble getting it, but she wants love. Will she find it? Follow her journey.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Apr 15, 2004
• ISBN: 9780595765881

Pamela Hayes

Pamela Hayes is a transsexual who would like to see more people like herself in mainstream fiction. She adores old movies, cooking gourmet food and traveling. She can be reached at [e-mail]. Drop her a line.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Julie, clad in a silk kimono was curled up on her sofa, gazing at a paperback. Reading was one of her favorite pastimes, but this plodding potboiler was causing her eyes to glaze over and she’d be one happy transsexual when this story came to a halt. She was sick of Tempest, the wimpy heroine and her overwrought problems.

When Tempest was a teenybopper, her father regularly raped her. Eventually, she killed the scum and spent time in jail for it. In the slammer, she had a lesbian affair with an inmate, which made her question her sexual preference.

Shortly after leaving prison, she was involved in a nasty car wreck, which rendered her paralyzed. Through physical rehabilitation, she regained the use of her legs and fell in love with her therapist, Cord, finally finding happiness.

Now, Cord was having unexplained headaches and blurred vision.

Enough. Give me some giggles, Julie thought, fed up with this fictional woman’s endless misery. She glanced at the clock on the wall. Eve, a sitcom she liked would be starting in about twenty minutes. She’ll watch it on the giant screen in the bedroom.

Eve and her boyfriend, J.T. were such a cute couple.

Julie inserted the bookmark in the novel and sat it on the coffee table, which held a crystal bowl of plump strawberries.

She popped one in her mouth. Its sweet juiciness exploded on her tongue. With her eyes closed, she thought, Ooh, ah. She adored fresh strawberries.

This just isn’t right, she said inwardly, sipping from her goblet of Chardonnay. She shouldn’t be alone. A man should be in her life and it had been months since she had even been intimate with a man. And she was 6’0, slim with 42-C natural boobs, a flat stomach and a 26-inch waist. Her body was free of knots and muscles. Her skin was the color of honey and she was as pretty, if not prettier as some of the models that graced the pages of Essence magazine.

But Julie Lawson was a transsexual and it wasn’t easy for her to get dates. She frequently met guys who wanted to take her out, but when she told them that she was once their gender, they backed off. Occasionally, she met open-minded guys who gave her a night on the town.

But it never led to anything meaningful.

All they were out to do was find out what it was like to have sex with her. And to acquire that knowledge, they were willing to spring for the price of some concert tickets and a seafood platter. And after having sex with her a few times, she never heard from them again.

And there were those who wanted to screw her, but were unwilling to be seen in public with her. Outings were a no-no.

And hey, if that was his attitude, he wasn’t going to screw her either.

She’d met bastards who said rude things like—I’ve never been with a transsexual. I’m game to try it out.

Or, I bet you give good head. Wanna suck my dick?

And as crass as they were, she didn’t think they were deliberately being insulting. They thought she had switched genders so she could have sex, sex and more sex. And in their eyes, they were doing her a favor by offering her some penis.

Of course, she didn’t comply with their wishes.

Julie was pretty. She didn’t have to settle for something like that. On second thought, if she were a fright, she still wouldn’t have to settle for something like that.

In time, some sweet man would come along and since she was starving for sexual companionship, she hoped he materialized soon.

Hey, Julie had needs. She took the last swallow of her wine. But there was more in the fridge.

Vino was her favorite adult beverage. She took her glass to the kitchen and while she was refilling it, there was a knock on the door. Frowning, she wondered who had dropped by. She was in no mood to play hostess and her friends knew not to come over unannounced.

Julie valued her private time.

Maybe someone had knocked on the wrong door. She looked through the peephole and saw Carla standing in the vestibule. Carla was a white girl, in her twenties, an acquaintance of Julie’s. Julie opened the door, put on a little smile. Hi, she greeted her uninvited guest.

Hi yourself, Carla said, entering the apartment.

What brings you here? Julie asked, closing the door.

Look, I know you like for people to call before dropping by, but I was in the vicinity.

Going to the sofa, Julie said, So, you decided to just ignore my rules. Her tone was jocular, but she meant it. Extending her wineglass, she asked, Want some?

Sure. I’d love a glass.

You know where the kitchen is.

Carla disappeared from the living room and a short time later, returned with a goblet of wine. Holding up her glass, she said, Maybe this will fortify me. She took a sip.

Frowning and watching Carla join her on the sofa, Julie said, Fortify you for what?

What I’m going to ask you.

What you have to ask me requires nerve?

Carla giggled. Yeah. Believe me, it does. You may think I’m nuts.

Well, you certainly have me intrigued.

Carla sighed dramatically. Well, you know... She trailed off and moaned. Yikes. This is going to be a lot harder than I thought.

She wants money, Julie thought. And not chump change, but a significant loan. Curious to know what was in Carla’s brain, Julie said, Carla, just spit it out.

Carla took a deep breath. Okay, you know my boyfriend, Joe Joe?

Julie nodded. Carla and Joe Joe was a vanilla/chocolate couple. Carla was cute, 5’9, blonde with dark green eyes. And Joe Joe was a fine looking black man, about 6’3, muscular, as a result of weight training a few times a week. His flesh was the color of Coke and his face was hairless. He reminded Julie of that hunk a hunk of burning love on Half and Half, that sitcom with Telma Hopkins. Julie got all her televised chuckles from the black comedies on UPN.

Carla sipped her wine. Well, next Tuesday is Joe Joe’s birthday.

Julie smiled warmly. Birthdays, Christmas and New Years were her favorite special occasions. How many candles will Mr. Joe Joe be blowing out?

Twenty-seven. I want to do something special for him, something unique. Something memorable.

Yep, she wants to borrow money. She probably wants to whisk her boyfriend off to the Bahamas or Hawaii where they would sip tropical drinks and lay out in the sun. Well, she’d have to find some other way to finance such a romantic junket because if she requested a loan, Julie was going to stamp declined on her application.

I’d like for you to have a threesome with me and Joe and Joe, Carla announced.

Julie’s mouth became as round as a zero. Giggling, she gasped, Are you serious?

Carla nodded.

You want me to have sex with you and your boyfriend? She had to get that one straight.

Sure, why not? Carla shrugged as if she was suggesting they go to Wendy’s and have a salad. Julie knew that Carla was a sex-a-holic, that she and Joe Joe had a wild sex life, but this suggestion was insane even for Carla.

Carla, I’m a transsexual.

I know.

Julie extracted another fat strawberry from the bowl and bit off it. And I like men, she said. No offense, but I couldn’t imagine myself having sex with you. She found the idea offensive. No way would she get it on with a woman. Oh, God, the thought. That woman’s breasts on her breasts. She and that woman kissing each other. Ugh! Oh, no.

Julie had no problem with lesbians. She had gal pals who were lesbians. But she was not interested in having sexual encounters with them.

Julie liked dicks, the bigger, the harder, the better.

I don’t want to have sex with you either, Carla revealed. Believe me, I’m no fan of the lesbian stuff. I did it with a girl and I didn’t like it. She made a face.

Why was Julie not surprised to hear that Carla messed around with another woman? Julie had kissed a few women and it wasn’t exactly a thrilling experience.

Carla said, I just thought you and I could take Joe Joe to a very special place. He could take turns fucking us. It would be wild. She spoke like she was trying to convince Julie to go to Niagara Falls for an impromptu weekend adventure.

Julie chuckled. Yes, it would be.

He’d get to have two women at the same time, Carla said. Which is every guy’s fantasy. And he’d have variety. One white. One black.

One real, the other transsexual, Julie thought. Hey, he could compare them. See if he could tell the real thing from the fake.

He’d love it, Carla said.

Carla, Joe Joe may not be receptive to having sex with me. Some men don’t like women like me.

Oh, he’d do it, Carla exclaimed. True that.

Evidently she had learned such black slang from her boyfriend. How do you know? Julie questioned.

One night, we were smoking a joint and somehow we got on the subject of you. Joe Joe said he thought you were pretty.

Julie smiled warmly. It was nice being complimented by a great looking guy like Joe Joe. And it wasn’t shocking. A few times, Julie had gone clubbing with him and Carla. And of course, her makeup, hair and outfit were perfect. And she saw Joe Joe eye her appreciatively.

Carla was saying, And I asked Joe Joe if he’d do you. And he said, ‘Sure.’ He admitted to being curious about you.

A lot of men were curious about women like her. They wanted to see if they could tell a difference between her vagina and the real thing.

Carla said, So, I think a three way would be a great birthday present for Joe Joe.

It’s certainly unique.

So, you game? She looked at Julie hopefully.

Well, I’m not going to say no because my adventurous side finds this appealing. She couldn’t believe that came off her lips. And I haven’t had sex in months. Which was why she was entertaining the thought of participating in a threesome. And moreover, Joe Joe wasn’t bad looking. And Carla had told Julie that he was hung. And that was not an exaggeration.

One time, Julie had cut her eyes at the zipper section of his snug-fitting jeans and she saw an impressive lump. But before she had averted her eyes, he had caught her staring. Man, she was embarrassed. She felt like she was receiving acupuncture in the face.

But he just smirked.

Julie was horny and getting some from Joe Joe would be just what the doctor ordered. But look at the conditions it would take place under. Carla would be in the room, watching her get screwed. She had qualms about this. Carla, this is unusual. I’ll have to think about it.

I understand. Well, Joe Joe’s birthday is next Tuesday, so I’ll have to know soon.

Give me a few days to muse about it, okay? Julie said.

Now, you’re going to seriously consider it? You’re not just blowing me off.

No. I’ll ponder it.

The conversation drifted to more mundane topics: clothes, what was happening on Young and Restless. About a half-hour later, Carla said goodbye to Julie. * * *

As Carla drove home in her little red sportscar, she thought about her conversation with Julie, wondering if Miss Prissy Butt, her private nickname for Julie would go along with it.

Julie was a sweet person, but she was so preoccupied with being a lady. She didn’t use profanity or tell dirty jokes. Carla, it isn’t easy being a transsexual, she had said on more than one occasion. People think I’m oversexed and weird. And I didn’t have a sex change so that I could have sex as often as a porn actress does. I want to present a good image.

Who the hell cared what people thought was Carla’s opinion? She and Julie had gone to the mall, to Barnes and Nobles, out to eat, and guys paid attention to Julie, checking out her face, boobs and ass and sometimes it irked Carla.

Shit, she was a real woman and she should be getting the attention.

And when guys asked Julie for her phone number, she’d scrawl fake digits on a piece of paper.

And if he was cute, Carla asked, Why’d you do that? Girl, I’m not giving him my number. Why not? Carla exclaimed.

What would be the point? He thinks I’m a real woman, and when I tell him what’s what, more than likely, he’ll lose interest.

Still, you should go out with them, get ‘em to spend some money on you. She shrugged. Just don’t reveal your past to them.

Girl, no way would I do that, Julie replied, shocked that Carla would even suggest it.

They wouldn’t know. But they could find out.

How, for God’s sake? Carla spluttered. I mean, you’re pretty. You’ve got nice boobs and curves. Praising another woman wasn’t easy for Carla.

Thanks for the compliment. But not everyone accepts me as female. Now, what if I go out with some guy and some creep is suspicious and says something in front of my date. It could happen.

Well, good God! Don’t you have the sense to deny it? Carla spat, sounding exasperated. Hey, I’m a real woman, and shit, someone could accuse me of being a man. Julie, you look like a woman. You sound like a woman. So, who cares if some asshole says that you aren’t one? Just deny the shit.

I don’t want to lie, Julie said. Once in a while, I meet liberal guys and they take me out. I get to paint the town occasionally. That’s good enough. You’d get more dates if you kept your lips zipped about your past, Carla said. I’ve seen your pussy. Julie and Carla had compared vaginas, matching each other labia for labia, clitoris for clitoris. Even if you fucked an unsuspecting guy, he wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

Coming out of her reverie, Carla thought about how Julie could screw guys and they wouldn’t know shit. But oh no, Julie wanted to be Miss Honest. And why? Men didn’t deserve honesty. They rarely gave it.

Once again, she considered her proposal to Julie. Would Julie be receptive?

Maybe. But there was always the possibility that Miss Prissy Butt would decline, dismissing the whole thing as seedy.

Now for an eternity, she had been complaining about being horny, and Carla was handing her the golden opportunity to fuck a hunk like Joe Joe and Julie just may turn it down because she may view it as unladylike.

Carla really liked Joe Joe and she wanted to please him. And not too long ago, he told her that he’d enjoy a threesome.

And fair was fair. He had given her the wonderful experience of having sex with two men at once. One night, they were in bed, naked, smoking pot and discussing sex—Carla’s favorite topic. What’s your fantasy? he asked her.

Well, she had done it in the shower, in a hot tub, on the beach at night. I’d like to do two guys at once, she announced, feeling mellow from the dope.

Two guys at once, huh? He took a puff off the joint.

Sure! she exclaimed. You think guys are the only ones with fantasies of two at one time? We girls like it too. Oh, I’d love to have one guy sucking my tits while the other one fucked me. And I could take turns sucking their dicks. Go from one to the other. It would be great.

Joe Joe chuckled. You’re bad and I like bad.

A few nights later, she was in his apartment, eating pizza and drinking pineapple rum. A co-worker of his had taken a trip to the Bahamas and gifted Joe Joe with the rum.

While Carla and Joe Joe were sipping their libations, there was a tap on the door. He opened it, admitting Keith, a friend of his.

Keith was tall, cute, muscular and black as a Hershey kiss.

Joe Joe introduced Carla to Keith. Keith, my man, take a load off, he said, pointing to the sofa. Let me pour you a drink. Would give you some pizza, but it’s all gone.

A drink would be nice, Keith said.

What the hell was this, Carla wondered, quite miffed. She and Joe Joe were on a date. Keith had dropped by unexpectedly. When he saw that Joe Joe was entertaining a lady, shouldn’t he have apologized for showing up without calling and vacated the premises? But no, he was sitting next to her and accepting a cocktail from Joe Joe.

Keith was definitely easy on the eyes, but he wasn’t wanted there.

For a few minutes, they talked and sipped their beverages. And Carla was secretly seething. She wanted to be alone with her boyfriend.

Looking at Keith, Joe Joe asked, Keith, what do you think of Carla? Her appearance, I mean?

Sizing Carla up, Keith said, "She’s as sexy as something out of Playboy. Carla blushed. Oh, well, that’s an exaggeration."

It’s true, Joe Joe said. And you love hearing it, He winked at her. Carla, what’s your opinion of my man, Keith?

He’s hot. Looks like something out of a fitness magazine, she said truthfully, doing a little playful tit for tat. Judging from his muscles, Keith was familiar with weights.

Would you fuck him? Joe Joe asked bluntly.

Now, Carla was buzzing off the rum. So maybe she hadn’t heard Joe Joe correctly. Did he ask her if she’d do his friend?

Well? Joe Joe queried. Would you screw Keith?

Smiling and acting like this scenario was no big deal, Joe Joe said, Remember the conversation we had sometime ago and you said you’d like to fuck two guys at once?

Yeah, she said.

Well, baby girl, here’s your chance, Joe Joe said, being Mr. Cool and Calm.

Carla glanced at Keith, who was smiling stupidly. This would be a dream come true. She had always wanted to do two guys simultaneously. She had this thing for black dudes. Oh, sure, she had done white guys, but they bored her. She liked dark meat. And she wasn’t talking about chicken or turkey parts.

You game? Joe Joe asked her.

She shrugged. Sure.

There was awkwardness, goofy smiling and gasping and soon everybody’s clothes were scattered on the floor. Carla went down on Joe Joe while Keith was licking her. And after that, she took Keith in her mouth while Joe Joe sucked her nipples. And she loved it. Her body was bursting with sensational feelings. She would heartily recommend to every woman in the United States and abroad to do two guys at once. There was nothing like it.

When Joe Joe was screwing her, she was blowing Keith. Joe Joe, let me break off a piece of that, Keith huffed, referring to Carla’s vagina.

And then he took over, hammering into her. It was a wild night, a white chick and two black studs, quite colorful.

Carla came out of her flashback. Remembering the escapade made her slippery and warm. But that fun incident had had an unwanted side effect. For a few days, her pussy was sore. Dealing with a painful kitty was no fun.

At a later time, she and Joe Joe once again chatted about fantasies. He said he’d like to have two women at once. But I don’t know any agreeable ladies, he stated.

Me either, Carla said.

And truthfully, she didn’t want to share Joe Joe with another woman. What if he preferred the other chick to her?

She couldn’t stand that. But he had arranged that delightful threesome, and turnabout was only fair. A wild thought entered her mind. What about Julie?

Your friend? The transsexual. He chuckled.

Yeah, but she’s still a woman. Would you be willing to do her?

She ain’t bad looking, he said, sounding reflective. And you said that she has a pussy?

Yeah, I’ve seen it.

And it looks like the real thing?

You wouldn’t be able to tell a difference.

Sounds interesting. I’ve never been with a transsexual. So yeah, I’d be willing to give it a try.

Carla was relieved that was his response. She just couldn’t bear Joe Joe getting off with another woman. Sure, Julie had the body parts of a woman and she could have sex with Joe Joe, but she wasn’t a real woman. She didn’t pose a threat to Carla and a real woman did.

Which was why Carla had no women friends. She didn’t want to deal with the competition. Catty, insecure and jealous described women. And Julie fulfilled her need for a female friend. They did the shopping/long phone chats thing. When Carla had guy problems, Julie listened and gave her advice.

A real bitch could take Joe Joe from her and Julie couldn’t.

Julie complained about men not wanting to go out in public with her, not wanting to take her around their friends. They fear that if someone saw them with me, she had said, and read me as a transsexual, that they’d think he was gay for being with me.

So Joe Joe would never date Julie.

Carla loved black guys. They just had that certain oomph.

Her interest in them started in high school. She had heard that they had big dicks and incredible staying power. So she wanted to find out if it was myth or fact. So, she fucked this black guy whom she had met in her Civics class. He had come over to her house while her parents were at work. They screwed. She enjoyed it and never looked back.

A few times when she was pissed off with one of her black boyfriends, she’d get together with a white guy.

Boring.

Give her a black stud. But this thing about black men having big dicks was a fable. She had been with black men with dicks no bigger than a cocktail weenie. And for that reason, she stopped seeing them.

And some black women hated her guts because she dated their men. When she had been out with her black boyfriends, she had seen black women shoot her dirty looks.

Once she was in a restaurant with a black guy and this nasty black bitch, a fellow customer, shrieked, What’s wrong with you? Can’t you find a white guy?

I don’t want one, Carla snapped. And who was she to get in her fucking face and tell her whom she should be dating.

And it was the ugly ones who always got hostile. They looked like shit and they were alone and to them, it wasn’t fair that Carla had one of their men. Though he wasn’t their man. He was their race. Some black women needed to get that straight.

And most black men were crazy about white chicks. They viewed a white girl as something special that should be cherished. And they spent all kinds of money on her, taking her on trips to the mall and buying her clothes and junk. Black guys had told Carla that they were willing to eat a white girl’s pussy, but they wouldn’t do that to a black one. So black girls shouldn’t hate her because black men wanted her. White girls had it going on. It was that simple.

CHAPTER 2

Sitting upright in bed, Julie mused about Carla’s lewd proposal. A glass of sparkling water was on the nightstand. On the giant screen TV, Girlfriends was playing.

Julie was an attractive transsexual, so that made her an object of inquisitive-ness. Men wanted to screw her. Nosy friends had asked to see her vagina. When her gynecologist first examined her, he was practically drooling, going on and on about how he had never treated a transsexual. He seemed titillated about examining a woman like her.

In the beginning, being an object of curiosity bothered Julie. Who wanted to be looked at differently? But people were going to view her differently. So, she had learned to live with it.

Carla. Why would any woman want another woman to screw her boyfriend? She could understand Carla wanting to keep her man happy, but bringing another person into their bed was a bit much.

But Carla and Joe Joe had a wild sex life. Carla had told Julie that she had had sex with Joe Joe and a friend of his.

Julie thought about Joe Joe naked, pushing his penis inside of her, pounding away. Ooh. She’d love it.

He was literally tall dark and handsome. And Julie loved dark-skinned black men. Those boys with flesh the color of butterscotch did nothing for her. She could not deal with yellow men.

And the idea of Joe Joe banging her thrilled her to pieces. Suddenly, her body was flooded with indescribable sensations.

Her clit began to throb and her nipples became hard and there was tightness in her vagina.

For months, she had been without a lover. For months she had been without a man’s touch.. .For months, she had gone without being held by a man, without being kissed by a man. That was not beneficial to her emotional wellbeing. Of course, Julie’s reasons for having a sex change was not about getting screwed.

But she was human and she had urges. Good sex brought her joy.

And Joe Joe knew her life’s story, so she wouldn’t have to deal with the ‘There’s something I have to tell you’ speech. She made a face. But if she had sex with Joe Joe, Carla would be in the room, watching Julie’s every thrust, hearing her every moan. And of course, Julie did not find that desirable, but it was a chance to get screwed.

So, she’d do it. Besides, it was the guy’s birthday and she liked him, so why not do something nice for him on that special day? Come off it, said that devil on her shoulder. You want to do something nice for yourself.

So. Was that a bad thing?

The following morning, she woke with reservations about the whole thing. What the heck was wrong with her, even considering doing such a thing? And why was she going back and forth like this? Usually she had no trouble making a decision and sticking to it. But this was not your run-of-the-mill situation, at least for Julie it wasn’t.

Women didn’t frequently ask her to have threesomes with their boyfriends. To take her mind off it, she wished she had work to go to that day. She did hair weaves for a living, working three days a week.

Julie wasn’t that