Advantage, Michelle -- by Chnydleigh Whyplasche

Forward:

Have you ever noticed that true trans girls are more effeminate and accepting of men’s desires than most genetic women? I have. This is a short story of adoration, of love and acceptance, of relationship building, some genetic engineering, and of course, a little lust.

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Charles Fornau

I had just been beaten terribly in court by a pretty attorney from the county prosecutor’s office. Seems that my client forgot to mention a couple of very important facts and hid them well from everyone except his ex-wife. She came out of the woodwork and blew him out of the water, much to the chagrin of the defense and the joy of the prosecution. After the recess to check on the validity of her accusations, the judge found my client guilty on a couple fraud charges and off he went. Not a thing I could do for him except lighten his wallet. I didn’t feel a bit sorry for him. All ill-gotten gains as far as I was concerned, but now a bit of them were mine.

In any case, she came over to the defense table to gloat.

“Well, Chuck, how’d you like that surprise ending?”

“Well, Michelle, not very much. That was quite a stupid move on his part. No way to mitigate that. You come over to rub it in?”

“NO! Not at all. I came over to make a peace offering. I’ll buy you dinner if you want to keep me company, or keep company with me at all. Over a steak, maybe?”

“Michelle, I’d love that, but you need to know, I don’t have very good luck being around women.”

“Chuck, I know. I know more than I should, actually. Chuck, can you try to call me Micky and help me see if we can be friends? Our paths have only crossed twice, and I don’t think there should be a problem with work. Heck, you went to school with Danny, and I’ve seen you talk to him in public, so it’s possible, isn’t it?”

“OK, Micky. It’s Charlie, then. Just Charlie, for now. If we’re going to be friends, we might as well leave this silly case behind us, change our names, and press on, then. Where are you taking me?”

“Someplace quiet. I’ve been stalking you, and now that I have you cornered, I need to ask you a few questions.”

“Stalking me, counselor? That sounds a tad wrong. Wrong sounds about right. Nefarious, illegal, naughty, and any other sundry number of things could fit as well.”

“It’s not that bad. Gloria Johnson over in the City Attorney’s office was going to approach you if I didn’t. She’s a pretty lady, and certainly would’ve gotten your attention.”

“You’re every bit as good looking as Gloria is, Micky, and if I may be so bold, I have a thing for redheads.”

“Ooooh, so…”

“Yes, Micky. Advantage, Michelle. Are you available now, or was this for a later tonight thing?”

“Actually, Charlie, if you’ll let me drop this box off at the office… Never mind. I’ll lock it in my trunk for now. Follow me to Joey’s. Evening’s on me. It’s almost five somewhere.”

It was about four-thirty, so yeah, it was almost five somewhere. Out of the courtroom we walked, me right behind her, and I had to admit, the pencil skirt she was wearing over those four-inch pumps was creating a truly bonita vista. She was a looker, and a walker. Looking at her walking was entertaining. There was really nothing about this woman I thought of as less than outstanding, I just don’t approach women. Well, twice, but not seriously since, and the last four or five years, I have just been doing without. I married my high school sweetheart, only to lose her to a freak ‘robbery gone bad shooting’ in our local bank, and then about five years ago, my sensors were down, and a gold-digging floozy snuck in on me. So, I don’t get out much anymore. Once bitten, twice shy, thrice ain’t happ’nin’?

I followed her car to Joey’s where we parked in the back of the parking lot, her in her little old Saturn Sky, a really cute thing, and me in my old Challenger, my knock around car. Once we were out of our cars, she held her hand back for me to take it, so we could walk in together, evidently at her request, hand in hand. I gave her a questioning look but when she met that look with a stunning smile, I caved. Her hand felt good in mine. An electric connection like you read about in love stories. They found us a booth in the back, where we both removed our jackets and hung them on a hook on the wall. It was a pretty laid-back place, pricey, but very popular because of the food.

I’d never seen her without a suit jacket, that I remember. She said she’d seen me with Danny somewhere, but I don’t recall seeing her. I’d have to ask. The point was, without the jacket, my rating of outstanding rose closer to magnificent. I’m not a boob man. I’m a leg man. Hers, her breasts, were perfect for her size, though, and her fitted blouse accentuated her form. Perfectly. B plus, C minus, in any case, gorgeous on her, and I could tell she was wearing a lace balconette bra. Her blouse was just light enough to see the contrasts.

“Charlie, I want to talk for a bit, then I’ll let you leave. You want a drink?” The waitress was walking over.

“Crown rocks, please. Thank you.” I let her order the drinks and an appetizer of baked mushrooms, then the waitress left. “Micky, what do you mean, ‘then I’ll let you leave’?”

“Charlie, I’m going to be very open with you, because I have been watching you, asking about you, talking to mutual friends of ours, stalking you, if you will, and to be honest, I want to get to know you better. Much better. If it doesn’t work out the way I want, I’d still like to be friends. You are a very, very well-respected person. I admire everything I’ve heard about you so far, including the fact that you despise gold diggers. I’m not one. I have more money than you do, Charlie. Lots more, I think. I’ll tell you about it someday, but trust me, I’ll never ask you for a nickel. I may be in a position to loan you one at some point, but never will I ask you for anything for its monetary value. OK?” I nodded.

“Charlie, do you have an open mind? Seriously. I’m going to tell you something in a minute that will cause you to not want to be with me, or allow us to get to know each other, but I just need to know if you can keep an open mind or if…”

I held my hand up. I had this weird feeling. “STOP! This is the ‘I was born a boy’ talk, right?” She nodded. “I never in my wildest effing dreams thought this would ever happen to me. Can I ask questions now? I have an open mind, but there are lines I won’t cross.” She nodded again. “Do you still have it?” She nodded. “Do you still have them?” She shook her head. “How big is it?” She held up her index finger then put it between the fingers of her other hand, showing the end from the first joint up. Not much left. “When did you decide?”

“I was six when Mom finally realized I was her little girl. Daddy didn’t care for it, but when I was ten, she and a doctor entered me into a program at the University Medical Center for dysphoric children. Charlie, you haven’t walked out on me yet.”

“I don’t think I will. The downside is that I won’t be able to impress you with my riches. The upside is that I won’t have to impress you with my riches. I have one more question to find out if we’re at all compatible, then we’ll go from there.”

“I’m nervous. Very, very nervous,” she said, sitting up straight, defensively.

“Not my concern. YOU are the one who started this debacle. YOU can face the consequences. You ready?” She nodded, and yes, I could tell she was nervous. “Do you like to dance? Ballroom. Classics, the good kind. Not the bumping hips and grinding. I don’t twerk.”

She giggled. Covered her mouth and let out a “WHEW!” then, “Oh Lord, you are a sweet, sweet man. You had me a little afraid, there.” She put her head in her hands and sobbed a little. Changing sides of the booth, I snuck in next to her, put my arm around her and lifted her chin with my finger. I dabbed under her eyes with a napkin.

“I’m sorry, Micky. I didn’t mean to cause this. I was just joking around. Look. You’re a gorgeous woman. The fact that you’re rich, all on your own, means that you’re dating material. The rest is a no brainer, for now. Let’s just get to know each other. Well, let me get to know you. You obviously know more about me than you should, under appropriate circumstances, in any case. I mean, well, I don’t stalk very much, so I don’t know what you know. You know?” She giggled and nodded. “You have a cute giggle for an old lady. I’ve never been with a woman as old as you. How old are you anyway? Twenty-three? Four?”

“I’m twenty-eight, Charlie. I’m only five years younger than you.”

“I know, but I haven’t dated since I was your age, and she was quite a bit younger. I’m just saying you’re the oldest woman I’ve dated. I don’t mean anything by it. Just teasing a little. Smile for me, Micky. I’m trying to get you to smile.” She did. She looked up at me, touched my cheek and told me she was OK, and I could go back to my drink. The mushrooms showed up and broke the silence.

“These are good.” I got bold and fed her one across the table. She smiled again.

“Thank you, Charlie. You really are a good guy, aren’t you?”

“I try. Now. About us. We need to set up two dates. One for dancing and the other for some out-doorsy thing. Fishing, maybe? You like fishing?”

“I’ll try it. I’ve never really been. I wasn’t a Daddy’s Girl. He didn’t really want me around him, actually. It was all Mom, pretty much all the time. I can cook, though, and clean up a storm. I’m very domestic. And mostly domesticated. Not too awfully wild. Charlie, I’ve had exactly one boyfriend. It was in Law School, and it didn’t work out. He thought it might, but it turned out he was gay, and I was too much of a woman for him. Just saying.”

“Micky, where are you from? Which University was it, and, well, tell me everything. All of it. By the way, you have an enchanting voice and I love hearing you speak. Not to mention watching your face while you’re doing it. You’re quite beautiful. You know that, though. Come on, everything. I have nowhere to be until Monday morning.”

“Wow. OK, I am Michelle Veronica Simpson, heir to the Simpson lumber and farming fortunes. I have people running them for me, since all I’ve ever wanted to do was be a lawyer. I was born on May sixteenth twenty-eight years and ten months ago, or so. We’re from Portland, and it was there at the Portland Health and Science University that I was cared for so well. I was left without parents about ten years ago when their car didn’t stop at the bottom of a hill, and when it was found that the car was at fault, my father’s lawyer friend doubled our net worth. Four million vehicle recalls later, it shouldn’t happen again. OK. Law school. I’m a Duck, through and through, but Daddy always wanted me to finish law at Stanford like he did, so… I did. The last two years were spent there where I wound up third in my class. Almost as good as you, if I remember correctly. Second in your class? Out of Harvard?” I nodded. “Anyway, I met that guy in Palo Alto, and it went nowhere. I’m a very inexperienced woman, Charlie. And a little fragile.

“My elementary days were broken up and followed by a few years at a private school, mostly from home, with all the medical goings on, then high school as Michelle, garnering Salutatorian. Always a bride’s maid, never the bride. Reclusive, at best, and afraid at worst, of being found out before I was ready, I stayed very much to myself. But I was a girl, then a woman. I had a crush relationship with a woman, while I was in school at Oregon U. It lasted a few months, but she never returned the affection. That hurt. I wanted more. Well, as jumbled as that was, here I am. Any interest, at all?”

“Yes. Eat your steak,” I said as the waitress laid our plates down, queried if we needed anything else, and getting a negative response, departed, thankfully. “You are a beautiful woman, Micky. I’ve said that already. You are nice, intelligent, and may not be after my money. I see no downside here.”

“Thank you, Charlie. There is none. You eat. We’ll talk over a chocolate suicide.”

Our dinner was great. Joey’s had a couple of top notch chefs working. It was pricey, actually, for this burg, very pricey, but it was worth it. When dinner was over, we moved to a table next door where a group would be playing some dancing music soon.

“Micky, thank you for agreeing to stick around for a bit and listen to some music with me.” I’d chosen a table way in the back of the hall, so we could talk as well as listen. The waitress brought our dessert over there, along with a couple of double Bailey’s over ice. “Please consider this. You mentioned being fragile. I have been hurt very badly. Twice. Once by fate, and once by a woman. If you dance with me, tonight, and promise not to purposefully hurt me, I would love to have this chance to get to know each other.”

“You have a deal. But no more chocolate suicides on our dates. Maybe diet Jell-O or something. I’m going to turn into a hippopotamus if I eat another one of these things. At least we’re sharing. That way I’ll be a small fat little hippo.” She giggled and got a laugh from me. “Oh, and I was going to ask, are we having ANOTHER dancing date, or is this one being extended in to one?”

“I hadn’t thought about that much, but I see it like this. You invited me out as a peace offering after whipping my ass in the courtroom today. If we cut a rug for a few turns tonight, that’s an extension of your good nature. I’d like to maybe go to LaVonn’s tomorrow night on our first real date. You know, not in work clothes? Maybe some prime rib, or whatever you might like, and dance some more? Michelle, would you accompany me for dinner and dancing tomorrow evening?”

“I would love that, Charlie. I would. What time would you be picking me up, sir?”

“Seven, my dear. Seven. Do you have an evening gown? If so, what color? I might want to choose my tie to match.”

“Kelly green. This is going to be fun.”

We danced. She was good. Very good. For someone who didn’t date, didn’t play well with others, and all that, this woman could move. She danced and moved smoothly, gracefully, and yes, elegantly.

“Micky, tell me about your dancing history. You’re not new to this.”

“Mom, and lessons. I love to dance. Always have. You’re good. I feel like a good dancer in your arms.”

“The feeling is mutual. Seriously. Advantage, Michelle.” She giggled at my comment. Did I mention she has a cute giggle?

She yawned. “Oh, Lord, Charlie, how rude of me. I’ve missed a little sleep, what with that case, and stalking the target of my newly directed affections. Please forgive me.”

“Not necessary. Let’s call it a night.” We walked to the table, hand in hand, still. Her hand felt good, and yes, it even felt like it belonged there. I finished my drink, she grabbed her purse and her jacket, handing it to me. I helped her into it as she smiled, then donned my own.

“Thank you. I’m looking forward to tomorrow evening, Charlie. I really am.”

“Me too, Micky. Me, too. You are a gem.”

We went to our cars and after she opened hers, she turned to me. “Thank you, again.” She reached for the lapels of my jacket and pulled me down to her. She kissed me. Softly. Gently. With nothing but closed lips, she gave me more of a kiss than I had gotten in ten years. Since Sandy was killed. I haven’t felt that kind of kiss in a long time. I wanted another. Thank God, she did too. We kissed again, this time with my arms around her, but still just her lips on mine, and a moan when I stroked her lower back.

“Yes, thank you, again.” She shook her head, hummed really loudly, cleared her throat, took a card out of her purse and put it in my shirt pocket under my jacket. “My address. Written on the back. The cell number is under it. I need to go. Quickly.” She gave me another peck on the lips, turned, got into her little sports car and showed me about ninety percent of her legs. Enough to know she was wearing pantyhose, and probably the sheer to waist kind. I didn’t see any change at all in the weave, and I know I almost saw the area where legs come to an end and other things begin.

As she pulled away, I realized I had just spent four hours NOT thinking about her being trans. Just a woman.

Advantage, Michelle.

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