Grocery Store Girl

By Beaumonte Bill / Oral Guy 2000

Published on Feb 8, 2016

Transgender

Grocery Store Girl (part 2)

A grocery store isn't a traditional pick-up spot, but a guy needs to take whatever opportunities that present themselves. I hope you enjoy this work of fiction.

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On Friday morning I put a bottle of Lambrusco wine in the refrigerator, so it would be cold for tonight. It wasn't exactly what could be considered a "fine wine", but it was one of my favorites in college.

I went to work, anxious to see Sandi. My day was busy, so the time passed quickly. I hurried home after work and double checked everything I needed for dinner.

Sandi arrived promptly at 6 and I welcomed her. I helped her with her coat and saw that her shirt and jeans had been replaced by a pretty blue dress. Her long brown hair had been "up" in the store, but now it was down, flowing over her shoulders. Her light makeup highlighted her already-beautiful features.

I must have been staring, and Sandi asked, "Is something wrong?"

"No – no!" I said, "its very right! – you clean up really nicely!"

Sandi blushed and suggested that we get to the kitchen. "Let's get some water heating in the steamer," she said, "We'll get the artichokes cooking when you put the Lasagna in the oven, and they will both be ready at the same time."

We talked as I prepared the lasagna and started water heating. Once the lasagna was ready to bake I said, "ok, your turn."

Sandi took a knife and cut a lemon in half and then cut the bottom and top off each of the artichokes, and then rubbed the cut areas with lemon. "The lemon keeps it from turning brown," Sandi explained. She took kitchen shears and trimmed the sharp tips off the stiff artichoke petals.

Sandi put the artichokes in the steamer upside down and put the lid on. We put the lasagna in the oven and set the timer for 20 minutes.

I poured two glasses of Lambrusco and we sat on the couch and talked, briefly sharing our histories. I wanted to kiss Sandi, but had held back. I didn't want to move to fast, but had difficulty holding back.

I took Sandi's hand and she seemed to welcome my advance, but she said, "Please Bill, I'm nervous about this."

"Me too," I agreed.

The kitchen timer sounded. I took the lasagna out of the oven and set it on the stove to cool. Sandi showed me how to check the artichokes. She looked so beautiful standing there in her blue dress. I hoped I wasn't being too pushy, but just had to act.

Standing behind Sandi, I put my arms around her waist and kissed the back of her neck. She stiffened and I feared I had made a mistake, but then she turned around and kissed me gently on the lips. It wasn't a passionate kiss, but it was a kiss.

I decided to count my blessings and didn't push for more right now. We dished up dinner and sat down to eat. It turned out that the artichokes actually had been pretty easy to make. Now Sandi had to teach me how to eat them, which I found to be rather strange.

Still, the dinner was very successful and Sandi complimented my cooking, noting that I was very different than any other man she had known.

She grew strangely silent and I took her hand in mine. She smiled and said, "I've only been on three dates before – none of which were successful – I truly hope this one is different."

"I will do what I can to make it different," I said, "I didn't invite you here for a single date, but for the first of many dates."

"You seem pretty sure of yourself," said Sandi.

I blushed and said, "That's not the way I mean it – I meant that I was very hopeful."

Sandi raised her glass and said, "let us drink to hopefulness."

I refilled our wine glasses and we returned to the couch and talked further. We were both a little emboldened by the wine and soon we were kissing. Now Sandi's kisses were more passionate. I began to reach for one of her breasts but pulled back. Sandi looked me in the eyes, took my hand and put it firmly on her breast. That was all the encouragement I needed as we continued to kiss.

I put a hand on her knee and then moved up her leg. She didn't stop me, but did stop kissing me. "Before we go any further," she said, "I have to tell you something."

"Oh?" I said, "You aren't wanted by the police, are you?"

She laughed and said, "No, but I am very nervous about what I have to tell you."

"Don't be, dear," I assured her.

"I am transgendered," she said.

"Thank you for sharing that," I said, "I'm glad you did." The fact was that I was absolutely thrilled to hear it. I was very attracted to trans-women but knew they were very rare. I was fortunate indeed that Sandi was both beautiful and transgendered.

I tried to resume kissing her but she stopped me. "I don't think you understand," she said, "I was born a boy."

"But now you are a woman," I replied.

"Yes, but not everyone agrees," she said.

"Are you a boy playing dress-up?" I asked.

"No!" Sandi shot back, "does it seem like that?"

"Absolutely not!" I assured her, "are you a woman born into a man's body?"

"Yes,", she responded, "you understand these things?"

"Yes dear," I said, "I have some knowledge of gender dysphoria."

We resumed kissing for awhile and then I slipped my hand up her dress again. I stopped partway up, and enjoyed the soft, warm feel of her leg.

"Unsure about what you are going find there?" she asked.

"I am sure what I am about to find is YOU," I replied, "and I welcome that."

"I told you that I had limited experience – the three dates I started all ended badly."

"I will do my best not to extend that trend," I assured her, "would you like to tell me about them?"

Sandi collected her thoughts and began, "I told each of the men that I was transgendered, and like you, they all wanted to continue. But on my first date, as soon as he pulled my panties down he freaked out and said he couldn't deal with this and ran out."

"Sandi dear, I would never do that," I said, "I just want you to feel appreciated and wanted."

"For the second guy, I didn't let him see me from the front," she continued, "he tried to enter me but it was horribly painful and I cried out, and he was gone too."

"Not a very encouraging start," I agreed, "but I want to change that."

"For the third guy, I kept my panties on and gave him a blowjob. Everything seemed to be fine, but when he climaxed he was like a different guy. He called me a tranny faggot and left also."

"That's terrible!" I said, "are you gay?"

"No, I'm not," replied Sandi.

"Neither am I," I said, "we are simply a straight couple trying to find our way in this world."

"But I guess I am a tranny, like he said," she countered.

"That is such a nasty way to put it," I said, "you are a woman – you just didn't start out that way."

"My last date was over a year ago, and was afraid to try again – that was why I didn't accept your invitation at first," she said, "as soon as I saw you I was attracted, but was scared to death."

"I know you have a lot to overcome," I said, "but I want you to become totally comfortable with me."

I thought better of it and withdrew my hand from Sandi's leg.

"I don't want to rush things," I said, "but I'd really like you to spend the night here tonight."

"You don't want to rush things but you're asking me to sleep with you on the first date?" she demanded.

–––––––––––––––––––– To be continued ...

Feel free to contact me with your comments or requests. –Bill (oral_guy_2000@yahoo.com)

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Next: Chapter 3


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