“Oh, that’s just Ralph. Old Mrs. Harrington’s queer drag queen son.”
I know that’s how I’m known in town. After Mum died I inherited her modest frame cottage in a small Southern Ontario town. I sent all her decent clothes to the Sally Ann (Salvation Army) and everything else, including most of the furniture to the dump. I did keep her jewelry and her mink of course.
Daddy was so proud when he bought her that full length fur. Walking the love of his life to church, the most beautiful lady in town, elegant in her mink. If the expression had existed when I was in high school, my friends would have called her a MILF.
When I do my face, there is a strong resemblance. I should have been her daughter, I just know it.
I work in the city. It’s a three quarter hour drive. The people at work just know me as ‘Ralph in Accounting.’ When I had my apartment in the city I never went out as my alter ego ‘Rose’ for fear of running into someone from work. But here I’ve shed my shell. It was scary at first, you know. Now though I hardly think about it. Everyone in this small town just accepts me as I am, a forty two year old lady in a man’s body. It’s just that kind of community. My friends from high school on the whole are comfortable talking to me,
There, I’ve said it. I’m five foot four, black hair, slim, brown eyes, pale complexion.
A few years ago I went on a tour of France. I really got into the idea of eating my evening meal after eight. When I get home from work there’s lots of time to shower and dress. Fridays I go do the grocery shopping at the supermarket by the freeway.
So, I was wearing a knee length long sleeve dress, dark blue with a grid of tiny white dots, two inch round toe heels and diamond stud earrings. It’s early December, so my mink. I’m in the cereal aisle and the big boxes of raisin bran are way up on the top shelf.
“Here, let e get that for you.”
Oh my. He must be six feet tall. Drop dead gorgeous blue eyes, perfectly cut light brown hair. He’s wearing an open khaki canvas trench coat over a dark grey suit and white shirt with a dark blue tie. On his feet are polished broughams.
“There you go miss.”
“Why thank you, sir.”
Awkward silence for a moment.
“Hello, my name is Lance, by the way.”
Even his name is sexy hunk.
“Rose.” I’m blushing. “Nice to meet you.”
“Rose. Pretty name. Do you live here.”
“Yes, and you?” Why have I never seen him in town?
“No. I work in (same city I do), and live in (city a few kilometers south of the freeway). I just thought I’d stop and check out this new supermarket. Nice, isn’t it?”
“Yes. I like the fresh fruit selection they have.”
“Yes. Well, nice meeting you, Rose.”
“Yes, you too. And,” I point at the raisin bran,”thanks for that.”
I finish shopping. There’s Lance at the end of the line at checkout seven.
“Oops, sorry, didn’t see you there” As I bump my cart into his bum.
“Rose! Imagine bumping into you here.” We laugh. “Tell me, do you shop here often?”
“Every week at this time.”
“Well, hopefully we’ll see each other again some time.”
“Yes, hope so.”
Then it’s his turn to check out.
The next week had the first real snowstorms of the season.
I wore my white bra with modest boobies under my soft cuddly pink turtleneck. To keep the hem of my ankle length maroon skirt out of the slush I wore my mid thigh height three inch spike soft leather brown boots. Gold one inch button earrings and two gold rings on my right index finger. My mink of course.
There’s Lance at the meat counter. Wonder if my hair is still in place? Will he notice me? Am I staring? He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, but some men don’t. Oh God, he sees me!
“Rose! I was hoping I’d see you again. How have you been?”
“Hi Lance. I’ve been great. And yourself?”
“Well, I’m even better now I’ve see you.”
I blush.
“I was wondering, Rose, there’s a Timmies (Tim Horton’s coffee shop chain) across the mall parking lot. Can I buy you a coffee after we finish our shopping?
I had a ‘black’, Lance had a ‘double double’.
Here’s something you probably don’t know about me, Rose, but I’m almost psychic, and have very highly tuned senses.”
“Oh really?”
“Oh yes. Just last week I met a beautiful lady, and right away my ‘gaydar’ told me that lady is going to come on a date with me.”
“That’s what you see in your future eh?”
“Sure is.”
“That this little faggot would go out with you just because you handed her some cereal?”
“Yup. That about sums it up.”
“So, when are you going to get around to asking me out?”
Saturday. I wore my bronze satin bow collar blouse and a black knee length wool skirt. Black strappy four inch spikes were on my feet. For jewelry my baby pearl cluster earrings, long pearl necklace, and two pearl rings on each hand. My dark red lipstick and nail polish, and I was ready.
Lance came for me right on the dot of seven.
Dark blue suit, pale pink shirt and diagonal stripped light blue, grey, blue and pink tie.
After holding my mink he wrapped his arms around me. “Beautiful Rose.” he snuggled me.
Given half a chance I would have fucked him then and there.
He took me to a mid to high price chain restaurant.
Turns out he’s forty eight, divorced, two adult daughters, has a degree in engineering, and has traveled a fair bit.
I invited him in for a coffee. Our half empty mugs went cold as we kissed.
Lance is a very good kisser.
“I love the feel of satin.”Lance says as he feels me up.
“Oh, you.” Kiss. I loosen his tie some more.
His hand slips up under the hem of my skirt and he feels my cock getting hard through the material of my panties. I purr it feels so good. “What’s this?”
“Let’s see.” I stand and slip off my skirt and panties. Lance fondles my clitty, then slides away enough to lower his warm sweet lips to my knob.
He kisses. He kisses and then licks up and down my shaft. He puts my knob in his mouth and gives me a wet sloppy kiss, then swallows. He takes me out of his mouth and looks up. “Beautiful Rose.” He swallows again as he fondles my shaved balls.
“Oh, Lance!”
He fondles and sucks. He swallows deep. He strokes up and down as he fondles. I cum with a gasp.
He sits up and we kiss and feel each other up some more.
“Lance, dear, why are you still wearing your pants?”
Oh, I knew he was a big boy. “Want to see my bedroom?”
It’s the only really girly room in my house. White wall paper with thin vertical dove grey and pink stripes. The wood trim is the palest semi gloss pink. The lamps on the bedside tables have frilly white shades. I toss aside the pink faux fur bedspread. “Come here, sir, let Rose take care of that swelling.” He gets comfortable and I kiss his circumcised knob. I gently hold and worship it. Like the rest of Lance, so beautiful.
“Ghh.” I swallow as much as I can. “Gh, gh, gh,” Beautiful cock. Fondle those balls and gobble cock. “Gh, gh, gh.” I love making noise when I gobble so Lance will know I’m having a good suck.
There it is! The little involuntary jerk of his cock and he cums blockbuster. More cum flavored kisses.
I nuzzle under his chin, my arm across his solid chest. He gently cuddles me.
“Beautiful Rose.”
In the morning I’ll slip on a Trojan and give him a before breakfast sodomizing to stake my claim. My beautiful hunk, Lance.