Chapter 2

When I got back to the villa, there were 4 young people waiting, who were either female or quite passable transexuals. They were all hoping to get the job. One was sexier that the next, they all gave me big hopeful flirtatious smiles.

“I’m sorry ladies.” I said to them, “Money is tight now, I’ll be doing my own housework.”

They all left, except one.

“I don’t need money, I just want a room.” She told me. She wasn’t as sexy as the others, she was modestly dressed and wore flat shoes. She was pretty though, a small female with a thin nose and a long neck, long black hair, and fine bones. “I’ll clean and help with the baby when I’m not at work. I’m an intern at the hospital.”

“An intern doctor?” I asked, quite impressed.

“Yes.” She said.

We looked at each other for a long silent minute. If I could have her for free, then why not? Maybe there would be sex, maybe not, it wasn’t high on my priority list at that moment.

Heath was 6 months old. He was very healthy, happy, impossible to not love. Yet he was an anchor that could hold a freight ship. He was stateless. He had a birth certificate with a fake mother’s name and me as his father, even though I wasn’t.

My new housemate called herself Hellen. Her long hair was a wig, her real hair was as short and thick as velvet. She told me all her hair fell out after a hormone mix-up, now it had just started to grow back. She was from a small town on a distant island, and at home she pretended to be male, even though she thought of herself as female.

“One day, I’ll have genital reassignment.” She told me wistfully. “I came to study under doctor Garcia, she’s the leading Philippine expert in transexual surgery.”

Over the next week, we talked a lot. She told me of her childhood, her family, her teachers, university, and that she was a virgin.

“Why?” I asked, “You’re smart, and very beautiful.”

“I’m too passable.” She told me. “On my island, I was a boy. When I got to university, I became a girl, except...” she pointed down at her groin. “So how could I date? I didn’t want to go around telling every boy who flirted with me that I have testicles and a penis. It’s great to be here, on this island people like me are practically normal. I’m ordinary here. It’s too hot, sorry I have to take my wig off.”

“You’re extraordinary anywhere.” I told her, “And I think you look great with your short hair. You don’t need the wig to be a woman, Hellen.”

There was a look in her eyes then; infatuation, love, lust, whatever. She looked up at me with her big dark pleading eyes, and I put my hand on her small furry head and stroked her. She edged close, I held her tight, and we kissed.

I regretted it immediately; I really liked her, she was great company, she was great with Heath, and I considered her a friend. The problem was that she was falling in love with me.

We’d been living together for a month; co-habiting, co-parenting, talking, laughing, and I admit it, flirting. Yeah, I couldn’t resist the thrill of being adored, and I’d been subtly encouraging those longing glances, complimenting her clothing when she dressed nicely, listening sympathetically to her worries and aggravations.

She was far more than I deserved, and at the same time, less than I wanted.

The kiss crossed a line; how could I refuse her now? Crush her happiness by refusing to do it with her, when she’d been cooking and cleaning, caring for the baby every hour she wasn’t at work? Because in reality, I’d been using her attraction to me, using her emotions to keep her working without pay or complaint.

If we had sex, it would bind her tighter. She’d told me she was a Virgin!

The boney little tranny was all over me, her body was clamped to mine like a parasitic squid, her tongue was in my mouth and she did have a great ass. We were both lonely, isolated from our pasts, and I sure did want to look into her pretty face while she sucked me off.

She broke away from me, breathing hard, and I thought maybe she’d realized that I was twice her age and had no income. She grinned at me, and stripped off her blouse, and then her habitual padded bra.

Helen had tits! Small, really small. Yet definite swells, with good nipples that were very female.

My cock went hard; this highly intelligent beautiful young doctor was committed to her femininity.

I guess everyone is different; I can only tell you my own feelings. I’m attracted to women. If a person says they’re female, yet has a male body, some part of me worries that I’ll end up in bed with a man. If she has a passably female face, and tits, then I can ignore the other parts.

Anyway, she was gorgeous. Her skin was smooth, her body lean and tapered, her hair was a few inches long now, a gleaming crown of resplendent health. I hadn’t thought of her face as particularly beautiful when I first met her; now I looked at her and found her utterly gorgeous.

She hadn’t changed; it was because of how I felt about her. That was the face I saw over coffee in the morning, the face that smiled at me in the evening, the face that looked at me with desire, and now I was looking back with the same feeling.

So what was I still hesitant about? There’s no use beating around the bush; her bush had a cock in it, and I’d really wanted to have vaginal sex again. Because Helen was not a casual affair. Aside from her genitalia, she was a magnificent woman; bright, funny, energetic, extremely intelligent, sexy, half my age, and with great prospects.

I ran my hands lightly over her boney little body, and her smile was enough to quell my doubts. How could I deny her this joy? To stop now would crush her.

We proceeded slowly, one kiss at a time. I undressed her, I hadn’t seen her naked before. Her penis was tiny, and when I touched it she asked me not to.

“Why?” I asked gently.

“I hate it, I want to forget it’s even there.” she told me.

I kissed her ass, her spine, her feet. I bit her ears, her neck, and her mouth. I took my clothes off, and she looked at my hard cock like a kid at Christmas.

“Oh! It’s BIG, and HARD! She laughed, as if she wasn’t a doctor who’d seen hundreds of penises.

She sucked my cock as I looked into her face, as I’d been wanting to do since the day we met. It was so good, she was so pretty, her fingers tickled my balls and I knew she wanted me to come.

Helen was not a sex worker. I needed to pleasure her, how could I though, when she didn’t want me to pleasure her penis?

I pulled it from her mouth and pushed her over, then hooked my fingers under her hips to lift her ass. Man, what a gorgeous ass ... I fingered her anus and she kept still, breathing heavily.

“Yes.” She said. “Please, go on, just do it!” she gasped fearfully.

Three minutes later, with great care, I pushed my sheathed rod into her lubricated anus. She moaned in pleasure, agony, or both.

“Is it ok?” I asked.

“Yes, yes.” She mumbled, so I slid deeper.

I’d only done it like this once, with a woman. I’d thought it was great, she told me afterwards it was really bad and she wouldn’t do it again. On the other hand, I’d had Gina’s rod up my ass too many times to count, and I’d enjoyed it.

“How does it feel?” I asked Helen when I had my rod deep inside her.

“Like everything I’ve ever wanted.” She replied, twisting her long neck to look back at me. “Do it, give it to me, make love with me!”

We’d been making love for an hour, this was just fucking. Anyway, I did it. I ran my fingers over her back, around to her cute new tits, and she seemed to enjoy it tremendously, even though she didn’t come.

I pulled it out after a while, and she stripped off the condom and went down on me again. I held her little face between my palms and let her have it. She sucked and swallowed in a sort of ecstatic state.

We cuddled afterwards, which was really, really nice. I had to keep kissing her, touching her.

Shit; I’d walked right into it, I looked into that adoring face, those big dark eyes, and I loved her.

There were literally thousands of transexual women on the island. Or, as they called themselves out here, ‘ladyboys’. Some were queer boys who dressed up, about half were full time sex workers who came from all over the country to live and work here.

Others came to escape persecution and discrimination, and worked regular jobs. The tourist industry, beauty salons (mainly for the sex workers), clothing, and of course the increasingly busy hospital.

The island was choked by the lack of a decent deep port, and distance from the larger islands. The jetty was too small to drive anything heavy onto, everything had to be unloaded piece by piece. Fuel was brought in jerry cans.

The fishermen who helped me dismantle Sweet Christine told me a lot. There was supposed to be a new jetty built in the river basin, including dredging work and all, engineering was done and a price fixed. It took 10 years for the federal bureaucracy to allocate the money, and by then the cost had doubled, so nothing was done. As usual.