How I Came to Admire Admirers

Linda recalls a life-changing encounter in Los Angeles

It was close to twenty years ago that I had the educational experiences of my lifetime. On the one hand I attended a major California university to study for and receive a Masters’ degree in my field of work. The course work was done largely by correspondence however candidates were required to spend four weeks over two consecutive Julys at the university attending lectures participating in seminars and doing practical work. Classes were concentrated from Mondays to Thursdays so the students, most of who were from California, could go home to their families for the weekends.

I could have taken this degree at any of dozens of universities in the east or in Canada but chose California frankly because I had other plans for my weekends. While my classmates headed home to their wives and children I headed to the San Fernando Valley area of Los Angeles. There, from Thursday to Sunday evening, I could get to live and play as Linda. At the time the Queen Mary Show Lounge on Ventura Blvd was the ‘Mecca’ for the crossdressing world.  The Sherman Oaks Inn was a nearby motel very friendly to clients of the Queen Mary. The Sherman Oaks management was so friendly that the manager would store my ‘Linda suitcase’ while I was away doing my studies. When I would come ‘home’ to the Sherman Oaks, my suitcase would be waiting.

Well, it didn’t take me long to fall in to a routine and for my routine to coincide with the routine of others. I made some very good ‘girlfriends’ at the Queen Mary. In particular I was invited to join a group of very attractive and professionally successful girls who similarly spent all or part of their weekends attending Queen Mary events. Friday evenings these girls would meet for dinner at the Venture Inn or other nearby restaurant and then spend the later part of the evening partying at the ‘QM’. The group had different members each week but as I remember it Joanie, Heather and Amanda were the most consistent attendees. We would talk about anything and everything but pretty well respected limits that a visitor such as I would put on personal disclosure.

One of our conversations really stuck in my mind and ended up having a life-changing effect on me. I’d like to tell you about it.
That particular evening it was the four of us, Joanie, Heather, Amanda and I, who were dining at the French Quarter on Santa Monica Blvd.

“Guess who’s coming to town next week,” said Heather.

“Who?” chimed in the other two girls.

“Martin.”

“Martin, the engineer?” asked Amanda.

“Uh-huh.”

“I guess we won’t be seeing you next Friday, then.”

“We’ll see about that,” replied Heather, “maybe he’ll want to see you girls and I know he’d like to meet Linda.”

“Okay, who is Martin?” I chimed in.

Excuse me miss, you don’t happen to be TG, do you?

Amanda took over, “He’s an admirer but he’s a really sweet guy. He lives in the DC area but comes to LA a couple of times a year on business and for conferences. He arranges his life so he can get to see the girls at the Queen Mary.”

I wasn’t sure but I was starting to catch on to what she had meant by the term ‘admirer’.

“What do you mean ‘he’s an admirer’? I asked.

I think it was Joanie who chose to end their smirks and tell me that admirer was the term given to the guys who came to the back bar at the Queen Mary because they were attracted to TG girls. While some girls liked the attention some were really uneasy about it. As well, a few of the guys who would hang back against the walls, afraid to make an approach or unwilling to offer a girl a drink, were just plain creepy. I had been to the Queen Mary and knew the guys existed but to that point I hadn’t heard the term. (Now the term admirer is widely accepted in the TG lexicon and is even used as a classification on TG dating sites – Linda)

“I’ve also heard the term ‘tranny-chaser’. I pretty well stay away from those guys,” I protested getting back to the thought of meeting this Martin.

“You shouldn’t,” said Heather, “you will have to sort through a bit of garbage but there are a lot of really nice guys who come through the doors of the back bar.”

“Like your Martin?”

“Yes, like Martin. He is really bright and he does not shirk about treating us like ladies. He is very happy to take a girl to a straight place for dinner, to the theatre or wherever I would like to go.”

“And then?” I asked.

The girls all smiled. “He’s pretty good in bed,” continued Heather.

“In bed? You mean you have sex with him?”  I asked, knowing that Heather and the other girls all had wives or female partners. I assumed we were four ‘straight’ crossdressers.

“Yes, in bed, Linda. Do you mean to say you have never been with a man?”

“Well only if he’s also been dressed,” I admitted.

“Then you definitely have to meet Martin.”

The girls all smiled. I felt a bit worried but also a bit excited. By the end of the dinner it was decide that Heather would introduce me to Martin the next Thursday evening at the Queen Mary.

After dinner we first made a quick visit to ‘Peanuts’ next door and then over to the valley and the friendly confines of the Queen Mary. That evening I certainly looked at the single men in the place in a different light. If they were good enough for my ‘straight’ crossdressing friends then why not me, I thought. I got in to a conversation with a nice young businessman visiting from the Cincinnati area, he said, and when he got around to suggesting we get together at his motel later that evening I seriously considered it.

However, I declined partly because I wasn’t ready and partly because of advice the girls had shared with me earlier in the evening. “Before you go with someone for the first time make sure someone you trust knows the guy and can vouch for him. It’s a long shot but the well-dressed, well-spoken stranger could be a serial killer.”

That weekend drew to a close. It was a long four days of studies before the next Thursday came. I was looking forward to being introduced to this special man, Martin. I took extra care with my face and body preparation. I bought a new dress for the occasion. Granted it was from Ross Dress for Less but it was attractive and it well highlighted my new cleavage.

It was arranged that Martin would take Heather for dinner and then they would be coming to the Queen Mary. She was going to tell him about this new friend of hers from Canada that he had to meet. Once we met Heather was to slip away for a while and then come back to see how things were going. If all was well she would find an excuse to leave and Martin would be mine for the evening.

I certainly didn’t expect all to go as well as it did.

At first I was a little anxious, sitting at the bar talking with Richard, my favourite bartender and eyeing each new arrival coming through the door. It took what seemed like forever but finally I saw Heather and with her a well-dressed, middle-aged man. He was shorter than Heather who was shorter than me. He looked fit and he had a very pleasant, confident smile. To me he looked like a younger version of John Glenn, the senator and former astronaut.

Heather brought him over to me. “Linda, this is Martin.”

“Hi,” was all I could muster to say.

Heather continued, “Martin, this is the girl from Canada I was telling you about. She is here studying for a PhD,” she said, purposely or by accident exaggerating my level of studies.

“Oh really,” said Martin, “in what field?”

“Actually, I’m only doing a Masters and in education but I guess the doctorate is next.”

“Don’t bother with it,” he replied, “it’s not worth the BS.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” I quipped, an unspoken acknowledgement to his already earned doctorate.

Heather stepped in to change the subject. “Martin, Linda is the only girl here who is as passionate about sports as you are.”
His eyes lit up and soon we were in to an exchange about the current baseball season. Fortunately Heather had tipped me off about Martin’s love of the summer pastime and the Chicago Cubs. Over the previous week I had done my homework.

“What do you think of the Cubs with Andre Dawson?” I said referring to the player that year picked up from the financially strapped Montreal Expos. “It broke my heart when ‘the Hawk’ left Montreal.”
Martin’s eyes were suddenly even more alive. They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach but certainly an alternate route is via his sports teams.

Martin and I talked the rest of the evening, not just about team sports but about golf which we both enjoyed, about our work and a bit about our families.

Heather came back to check on us, as promised, but found no need to stick around. I found out afterwards that the girls were happy to share Martin around and he was very happy to be shared.

As the evening wound down Martin asked if he could make sure I got back safely to my motel. That was a bit funny as he was travelling around LA by taxi and I had the rental car. However it was a euphemism I understood and was ready to hear.

“Yes and perhaps I can prepare us a little nightcap,” I replied as demurely I could muster at that late hour.

As I drove to the motel Martin made a little attempt to put his hand on my thigh. I did not resist but a gentle pressure was enough to stop him when he tried to move it higher.

Upon entering my modest motel room the nightcap was forgotten. I had long since decided to let Martin ‘have his way’ with me.  He wasted little time.

I will spare you the details so Angela does not have to X-rate this column but let me just say it was a beautiful evening, not without it’s awkward moments on my part. More importantly it was the beginning of a long and beautiful friendship.

Suffice it to say that Martin and ‘admirers’ like him have brought a new level of enjoyment and feeling of fulfillment to my passion for crossdressing. For me it was one level to enjoy the feeling of being dressed en femme. It moves to a second level when I look in the mirror or look at photos and video of myself and like what I see. It went up a big notch when I started to go out in public and was accepted by the people around me.  Intimate relationships with other crossdressers brought a mutual satisfaction, of course. However nothing has ever quite given me the sense of satisfaction I experience when I know Martin and men like him are getting ‘turned on’ because they are with me. I enjoy flirting with a man at a club and knowing that he is trying to devise a way to join me in a sexual relationship. I enjoy dancing closely with a man and feeling his obvious arousal against my hip.  I enjoy getting together with a man in bed not so much because I’m crazy about penises or about having sex but his arousal gives me a great sense of validation of the feminine image I’ve tried to create.

So no longer do I look on Martin and men like him with disdain and disinterest. Martin’s gentle and respectful example helped me to be comfortable in the company of many other admirers/ ‘tranny chasers’.

Next month I will write more about Martin my relationship and what he told me about how he came to appreciate special girls. I will include his list of dos and don’ts for t-girls who think they might enjoy the company of men.

Category: Transgender Fun & Entertainment