We had been seeing each other regularly for about a year I suppose, in fact the relationship was now accepted by all our friends, no one seemed to even think about it twice..it didn't seem to matter whether he dressed as a lithe young man of startling prettiness or as a demurely elegant young woman, the transition was imperceptible after all - besides most of his compatriots (at least the ones I knew) hailed from Hamburg where such things were by no means unusual. Things had reached the stage where if separated for too long I actually began to miss him, if we arranged a rendezvous somewhere it was always with relief that I glimpsed him from afar, there and waiting.
So it was that we met that late Spring evening, by arrangement we'd agreed on a particular corner of Kensington gardens, safe enough for him since busy paths crossed nearby. There he was, perched on the end of the bench, long legs primly tucked away and feeding sparrows - as well as any other feathered vagrant passing by. As I approached, he rose and we embraced. He still excited me and any prolonged bodily contact produced inevitable results so sensing this he buried his face against my chest while pulling his hips away
"Yes, I know, I like it too...but then, we both have trouble walking?" He pouted up at me.
He was quite right of course, so taking him by the hand I began a casual stroll towards Nottinghill and a particular restaurant
"Feel like the Trattoria this evening darling?"
It was the first time I had called him that and I sensed him grow rigid, then slowly relax, the face that turned to me was positively glowing though he carried on as if nothing had happened.
"Yes, I think that would be nice but...there's some rather nice girls that serve there, are you sure you want to take me...?" He gave a naughty glance.
Funny really, I thought over what he'd said and again was struck by the irony, officially male his looks nevertheless marked him as an exceptionally attractive young woman - or beautiful male, depending on his choice of dress. Those admittedly enticing waitresses were no threat at all, and I told him so...only to watch another blush colour his lovely features as his hand tightened around mine to give it a squeeze.
We climbed the stairs and even without a booking were shown to our usual table, we were known there by now and I suspected, were afforded special consideration by a sympathetic and extremely worldly Maitre d'. We had finished the meal and were settling for coffee when I produced it, the little box. With eyes like saucers he stared at it, unmoving
"Go on I said, it won't attack you"
The box was opened and the ring held up, his hands were shaking I saw. He said nothing, paused for a while but then ever so cautiously and watching me the whole time, slipped it onto his finger...slightly loose it would need adjustment but there it was, my lovely boy had accepted it....and by definition, myself too. Tears began to glisten and these I reached over and dabbed away, he sat there stunned. Finishing our coffee we rose to leave, at the cashiers desk when I went to pay, the reply was curt "No charge" and it was obvious there was to be no argument, our friend had of course observed the exchange and that was that. Thanking him gravely for the courtesy, we left. Rather than walk, I managed to grab a Taxi and then broached the subject
"Think you could bear to part with your little place....you know I have too much room on my own and its closer to your work anyway...."
He cradled his head upon my shoulder and sighed
"When I accepted this ring, I knew what it would mean, I thought about it and of course my place is with you now but...will you, how will you....?"
I knew what he meant, all the arguments against us but...this was the critical bit...I needed him now, emotionally I was as involved with him as I could have been with any girl so there it was, there was no choice really, not now, not when I'd found how lovely he was - not just as a lover either. So preparing for bed, I sat him in front of the dressing table, the folds of his negligee emphasising his slender body and then I began to brush his soft hair for him. Once finished I lifted him in my arms and carried him over to the bed, where smiling contentedly he lay with arms held out. Later with long smooth legs wrapped around my waist and negligee up under his arm pits I sought his secret depths, probing, caressing, gratefully plunging, my lover catered to my every whim while I in turn delighted in his own arousal. If I had any doubts they were dispelled by the sight of his loveliness, his joy at giving pleasure and as my little beauty began to convulse I clutched him to me, his lips parted and looking directly at me I heard it
"Now I belong, you've got me too and you called me "darling", oh I'm so happy, you know how to do things to me...I'm always excited when you take me to bed because I know it will be lovely so if you still want me, I'm yours...but just keep fucking me will you, please? Not romantic I know but the feel of you inside, oh yes, yes"
I replied
"Yes darling, of course I'll keep fucking you, now we're engaged of course, I have to don't I?"
An indignant squeal followed and a hand gently slapped my face....