T Is for Teresa

Transgender-themed stories which I hope will be of interest to those who like women, or would like to be a woman. Which includes me!

It was when I was still living at home, or at least staying there in the college holidays, that Mum came home and found me and Jack Horton lying on the living room floor, naked, and giving each other sixty-nine. She knew I was gay, or course, but was still shocked. As was Jack.

After he'd dressed and left, literally with his tail between his legs, my mother and my father came into my bedroom together. Looking grim. I thought I knew what was coming, and I was in fact right.

"Terry, look. When you've left home and got your own place and so on - well - you can paint it pink and fuck whoever you like."

And this was Mum talking, I'd never heard her use THAT word before.

"But until then. Please. Take care. Some of the neighbours, most of them indeed, wouldn't understand. OK?"

"OK Mum."

I think Dad was glad she'd taken the lead there, he looked rather embarrassed. So for several years after that, during my college course, and for the couple of years after that while I lived at home, I kept sex and home life separate. And even after I got a flat I was working hard on my career and didn't get the chance to socialise.

It was when I met Kali at a gay club that my life changed. I'd never met a really convincing tranny close-to before, and the sex was just mind-blowing! It was her who taught me the finer points of dressing up and warned me about being ripped off by spurious saleswomen. Kali taught me a lot – she was really my mentor – or should that be mentoress? - in all things tranny.

"OK Teresa, look" she'd told me one day as I was trying on a new pair of heels. "You can get most of what you need online these days. Stay clear of the sex shops, they're good but they're expensive. And you look really great, damn near convincing. You're lucky you're so slim, girl."