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My Favorite Martin: Part 3

| May 31, 2010
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Linda JensenHow Martin Became a T-Girl Admirer

Martin tells Linda how he came to discover and admire crossdressers, particularly those who flaunt their “feminine sexuality”.

Thank you to those who have written to say they enjoy the accounts of my encounters with Martin. He is a fine gentleman, a professional engineer and an admirer of crossdressers. Because I”m a crossdresser who likes fine gentlemen we turned out to be a very good match for each other. At least we were when our continent crossing paths converged.

Martin traveled across the United States as part of his work and as a member of the board a professional association. My travels were sometimes work related but were usually done to give me some time away from home to be Linda. That gave me some flexibility. One trip might find me in Los Angeles centered on the Queen Mary, another to Atlanta and Backstreet. New York (Club Edelweiss), Washington (Ziegfeld”s) and New Hope, Pa. (Cartwheel) were other frequent destinations. (Yes girls, all those clubs are now closed but don”t blame me. My patronage was only coincidental to their problems.)

Once Martin in effect “took my virginity” as far as dating admirers goes when I visited these clubs I found myself more often seeking out the company of men than that of sister t-girls. Every so often Martin would tell me where he was going, when he would be there and ask if we could “hook up.’ From time to time it worked out that we could.

As we got to know each other better some of the privacy about the other sides of our lives melted away. Martin shared details about his family and background. I shared — or at least Martin was very adept at guessing  — details about my work, my family and my dreams for the future. Neither of us had any doubt we could trust the other to keep our confidence.

So it was that occasionally we would get around to sharing some very intimate details about our past lives. As I recall we were dining at a popular seafood restaurant along the waterfront in Costa Mesa, south of Los Angeles. It was a large and crowded restaurant and by chance or design we had been seated off in a quiet corner. It was clear service was not going to be fast and that suited me just fine.

jensen_martin_picAs I scanned the restaurant to observe the other couples it occurred to me that Martin was probably the only man there who would like being with me. But what if that were not the case? What were the chances that some other men, dining with their wives or girlfriends, harbored the desire to date a t-girl? I was curious to ask Martin how he came to be attracted to having sexual relations with girls such as me.

Martin,” I cooed, “There”s something I’ve wanted to ask you about our relationship.”

“Uh huh,” he replied, suddenly displaying that deer-caught-in-the-headlights look that men often get when they sense an uncomfortable question coming from their partner.

“Oh don”t worry,” I laughed. “I don”t want a commitment. I don”t even want you to tell me you love me.”

He looked a bit relieved.

“It”s not really about me. I”m just curious how it all started for you. How did you come to realize that you were attracted to crossdressers?”

This time it was Martin”s turn to pull the chain. “Well I walked in to the Queen Mary by accident and there was this tall gorgeous blonde Canadian. I couldn’t help myself and when she said she loved baseball and the Cubs I was hooked.”

“You mean I was your first?” I said, rapidly blinking my eyes.

“No really,” I laughed. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want but I”d love to hear your story.”

The waiter brought our drink order so Martin paused for a while. Then he began, “It was about 25 years ago in Providence, Rhode Island where I was attending a technical conference.  I stayed at a downtown hotel that had seen better days, but was convenient to both the conference venue and the night life of the city.”

“I didn’t know Providence had a night life.”

“Well it certainly did then. The first night I was there I wandered about and stumbled on a bar located on a backstreet, not far from the hotel. It was like the rear of the Queen Mary with the back wall being removed so that the bar was open to a dark street.”

“It sounds shady,” I said, realizing I”d just made about the worst pun possible.

“Well it wasn’t a Hard Rock Cafe.  It seemed to have a lot of very attractive women, one of whom joined me right after I sat down at the U-shaped bar. She made it clear that sex was for sale there. At first I wasn’t really interested in her, but right across the bar was a very attractive woman who interested me more. When I told my new found companion that I fancied the other girl, she said, “but that’s a boy!” That bit of news absolutely staggered me.”

“It is a bit of a shock to find out the woman who is making you hard could have a hard one herself.” I empathized.

Martin continued, “I dropped the subject of the girl across the way and continued to chat with my companion. As she was attractive and agreeable, I had her come to my hotel room to give me oral sex.”

“You didn’t want more?”

“Well, I was young and very nervous about it, so much so that when I found a hairpin next to the bed the following morning, I thought I might be evicted. Besides I think she had said something about her not being able to go all the way and I assumed that meant it was her time of the month.”

“That”s my Martin, ever fastidious. I know that wouldn’t stop a lot of guys. But go on. Did you get evicted?”

“It worked out ok. You know the hotel would not have been interested in my guest.”

“If hotels were to kick out every customer that had a person come to their room for sex, paid or otherwise, the streets would be full,” I commented, trying to think back to the last time I’d spent a night at a hotel without at least some sort of companionship. (Just kidding)

Martin continued, “Nevertheless, the next day I was still thinking about the girl who was a boy, not entirely believing that this could be true. So, that night I went back to that same bar and as luck would have it my date from the previous night was there.  I told her of my doubt about what she had told me, to which she said, “But so am I, we all are”.

“Were you surprised?”

“Of course I was!” he exclaimed. “Then she went on to suggest that now that I knew wouldn’t it be even more exciting to have her again.  I said no, it definitely wouldn’t, but I still hung around the bar anyway, hoping to see the girl that I found – really – exciting.”

“So the one queen you”d been with didn’t interest you but you were still intrigued by the one that got away?” I asked.

“You could put it that way. She finally came in and we talked. She was unbelievably sexy and, of course, available. But, as hard as it might be to believe, I just couldn’t bring myself to do anything of a sexual nature with someone I knew was a male, however sexy she or he was.”

“So you left without doing anything with her? I bet you regretted that.”

“Not right away but of course once I became comfortable with the idea of sex with a t-girl I started wondering what might have been.”

“What made you comfortable with us?” I asked.

“It was some years later that I found that there were t-girls that one could meet who were not hookers, and this was when I first found the Queen Mary.  By then I was much less naive about t-girls, but still without much in the way of opportunities for experiencing their pleasures. But, I got lucky the first night I was there, and that made the QM my favorite place to go.

“I think it was also important that I realized that just because I was having sex with girls who had a penis tucked in their panties did not change or diminish my basic attraction to women or to my wife in particular.”

I interjected, “too right there. I find it so natural to be on the West Coast making love to a man as Linda one night and then flying back east to my partner”s bed the next morning.”

Ignoring my comment, Martin continued, “And, finding one place that attracts t-girls makes it easy to find others, which I did in those pre-Internet years in Boston, Chicago, New York, New Orleans, Houston and San Francisco.

“Nowadays, with the Internet being the prime communication medium, there seems to be less in the way of places to go where one is likely to meet up with someone interesting and attractive. Some of the clubs are gone. I fear we”re going to lose a lot more.” (Unfortunately Martin”s prediction came only too true.)

“We”re getting off-topic here,” I chided, “we’re supposed to be talking about your sex life. What is it that makes crossdressers and transsexuals attractive to you?”

Martin looked around the room and then responded, “Look around the room at the other women here. Look how they’ve dressed and done their make-up”

I scanned the restaurant. There were probably 50 women with their dates or in larger groups. A few were in skirts or dresses and were carefully groomed but most were in slacks and sweaters or plain blouses and had little or no make-up on.

He continued, “Women have an innate sexuality about them. Most men are naturally attracted to them. Some women enhance that sexuality by the way they dress, do their hair and apply their make-up. High heels and a nice hem line will attract attention to their legs. The proper eye liner and lipstick tells me a woman is enjoying her sexuality.

“But look here. Most of the women here are actually downplaying their sexuality. They don’t want to make the effort or they just plain don’t want to attract attention to themselves.”

“But what has that got to do with t-girls?” I asked.

“Well frankly it is not all t-girls. But take you for example.”

“Me?” I asked. He completely had my attention.

“Yes, you and Heather and Alice and the girls in your crowd, what do you have in common?”

“We”re all crossdressers?”

“Yes, and you”re bright and confident and you obviously work at your art.”

“Our art?”

“Yes, the art of being a woman, a sexually attractive woman. You want to appear to be women but not just any women.”

“So it’s the image of a woman that attracts you?”

“I know you wear flat shoes when we are out so as to minimize our height difference but I keep in my mind that when we are alone or at the Queen Mary you will be in sexy high heels. The way you do your eyes makes those baby blues sparkle and without a word tells me how sexy you are. You dress to accent your cleavage, not to hide it. Your perfume is the icing on the cake!”

His flattery was getting me excited.

“That’s what attracts me to certain crossdressers,” Martin continued, “You exhibit the same feminine sexuality that so-called real women often try to suppress and I know you take a lot of effort and get a lot of pride in doing it.”

“Well it pays off when we get to meet men like you,” I said, trying to return the compliment. “Martin, you are one in a million.”

Our conversation moved on to other topics. Eventually Martin paid the bill and we departed the restaurant to return to the hotel where I could slip in to some high heels and complete my display of “feminine sexuality.’

Now all these years later Martin’s insight and advice remains important to me. Some time soon I would like to share with you a conversation Martin and I had about how a t-girl could make herself more attractive to a man she wants to meet.


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Category: Transgender Fun & Entertainment

Linda Jensen

About the Author ()

Canadian writer Linda Jensen is a long time contributor to TGForum. Before the days of the Internet Linda started her writing with the Transvestian newspaper. Her writing ranges from factual accounts of her adventures to fiction although frankly sometimes her real life adventures are stranger than the fiction. Linda is married to a loving partner who upon learning about Linda said, "she was part of you before I met you. Although I didn't know it she was part of the package I fell in love with. I don't want to mess up that package." "Does it get any better than that?" asks Linda.

Comments (1)

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  1. ms.marlene ms.marlene says:

    Hi Linda
    Martin is so right on his assesment on women and the way they present themselves. As a T-girl I like to present myself as a woman proud of my womanhood. Responssible dressing is foremost.
    I love your writing and outlook on things. Keep up the good work.
    Marlene Winkels

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