Transforming Love: Uptown Girl

By Rex Haltier

Mike encounters a gorgeous trans woman on a crowded subway car. It's love at first sight. Crushed into a corner of the car by the press of commuters, Mike orally services Kenya to completion. With such a satisfying taste of Mike's talents, Kenya agrees to go home with him for more love-making. They soon find they have been followed by the gorgeous redhead, Nora.

Together, the three satisfy each other in all ways possible between a man, a woman, and a woman with something special.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tall Tale Depot, Inc.
• Release date: Sep 28, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463536988

Rex Haltier

My name is Rex Haltier.I was born and raised in the Manhattan - the city I love. I spent my entire life here and plan to spend the rest here as well. For here was where I found the special love of my life.I met Leila when I was twenty-nine. She changed forever the way I saw gender and relations between men and women. And as a result of our love, we have helped many men and women, both cis- and otherwise to become more accepting of themselves and the true and natural nature of their transforming love.I began to write my erotic romances to help our friends and lovers have an outlet to understand that physical love of any sort is natural and good and holy.I hope you enjoy these adventures of loving discovery and find in yourself the bravery to love fully.I hope you enjoy reading them as I did writing them - and, with Leila's help, living them!

Book preview

Transforming Love: Uptown Girl

by

Rex Haltier

Copyright 2020 HSB and Tall Tale Depot

All rights reserved.

Published by Tall Tale Depot, Inc.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

All persons depicted in this fiction are consenting adults over the age of eighteen, as required by federal law.

When Kenya left, Nora was still asleep. I was barely awake myself when she gave me a sweet, lingering kiss with her amazing soft, full lips. She patted my cheek and said, Call me, baby.

I will, I muttered in reply.

I reached out weakly as she stood, the tips of my fingers barely making contact with her jeans before she receded too far. Still, I kept my eyes on her as she drew farther and farther away, her ample hips swinging in that ancient and enticing away. The last thing I saw as she closed the door behind her we’re those jeans. Those tastefully ripped jeans enclosing that amazing ass and the that which made her so special and lovely.

And I smiled at the closed door, for it was those tastefully ripped jeans that brought us together in the first place.

We met on the subway. And we met cute.

We met Nora there, too.

But it was Kenya who captured me first. And it was, of all places, the place I hate most about New York City: a packed subway car.

Here’s the thing. The Big Apple has a lot of worms in it. To be sure, it really is the town so nice, they named it twice. It’s also the place where someone might tell you to go fuck yourself just for good walking a little too slow for their taste. Full of wonderful parks and amusement; restaurants, and night life. And it’s is a pure-dee pain in the ass to get anywhere.

Either it’s ride the buses locked in traffic jams, or it’s the subway that might get you where you’re going. Or they might take all, damned day. Many the cars are old and most are often filthy. Best of a bad lot and all that. And there are never enough of them. So, crowds.

And some lines are just hell, because everyone gets on at the same time: all eight million of us!

But it was in just such a crowded and slow-moving, and ancient subway car that I encountered the miracle of Kenya. And Nora.

Now, before I tell you the juicy and public beginning of that wild night, I gotta tell you about how the deficits of the system made it possible to meet and pleasure this magnificent woman on a packed subway lest you call bullshit on me.

To be fair, the transit system is getting new trains. It’s just that they’re on the fifty year plan. Every so often a a new string of cars appears. But most of the old ones are still there. And it was on one of these old cars on the eighth avenue line that I met Kenya and Nora. But especially Kenya.

It’s like this: all the old cars have benches on either side, punctuated by forward-facing seats, all upholstered in scarred, hard plastic. At the ends of the car it is a little different At each end is a phone booth-sized compartment for the conductor or the driver. In most cars the thing is just something that reduces the space by enough