Jamie laughed as she remained turned. The taxi driver was glancing into his rearview mirror but remained silent too. “Lexi, you’re the only one out of us who’ll tell a man within ten minutes that you have a girlcock, then after five minutes, get it out to show them.”
“And you know most of them are eager to leave so I can fuck them, Jamie,” Alexa retorted.
Cindy giggled, shaking her head, though she knew Jamie was right. It had taken a long time for Alexa to feel comfortable in her skin after everything, but now her confidence was simply astounding. She was Alexa, she was in your face, she didn’t care what you thought about her, and she was going to live life to her own rules.
In many ways, Cindy found it inspiring, but also worried that her friend might one day bite off more than she could chew.
Arriving in the city after an hour or so in the taxi, they stepped out, four beautiful women dressed to the nines. Though they would generally visit the same sort of clubs at the end of the night, they loved visiting different pubs and bars before they felt the urge to go dancing. The first pub they visited wasn’t particularly interesting. They were rarely made to feel unwelcome as, in language Cindy didn’t particularly like but accepted, was that all four of them ‘passed’ as women. Alexa always told Cindy that if you placed her a line up with what she’d call ‘bio-woman’, many men wouldn’t pick her as the transwoman. Jamie was equally as passable according to Alexa, mostly due to her similar stature and her curvy body.
The second bar was more interesting, the four women enjoying a couple of drinks, and Cindy noticed that a couple of groups of men glanced their way more than once, and they were glances of men who liked what they saw. But none of them approached, and the only one of the four friends confident enough to approach a man, at least without some liquid courage, would be Alexa.
It was around 10pm when Alexa announced, “Okay, girls, time to hit our favourite club. I need to dance and find me a man to flirt with. And maybe even fuck if I’m lucky.”
“Never change, Alexa,” Cindy stated, hugging her friend closely, before she felt her friend and gasped. “Um…”
“I’m horny already,” Alexa whispered.
Cindy looked up to meet the emerald green eyes of her friend and felt herself blush. “Well, I think you’re sexy too,” she joked.
Then she squealed as Alexa squeezed one of her butt cheeks, the pair breaking into laughter as they joined Michelle and Jamie outside. The four walked slowly towards their usual club. It was your typical gay club, but there was also a variety of people. Cindy knew they were never the only transwomen in these clubs, but they were always outnumbered by gay men and lesbians. No real surprise, when she thought about it.
Once inside, pleased they didn’t have to stand in line for too long, the four of them headed to the bar first to buy a round of drinks. Alexa told them she was immediately heading out to dance. She was a like a predator, immediately looking for a young man to take back to her apartment later that night. Michelle and Jamie kept Cindy company as they talked when they could, the pumping music making conversation difficult at times, and they did dance together. Being transwomen in a gay bar, they didn’t really draw the attention of too many men, and most lesbians were not interested in a girl with something other than a pussy between their legs.
Michelle and Jamie did the usual womanly thing of heading to the bathroom together. Cindy was more than aware that the pair were intimate on occasion and fooled around all the time. She didn’t care as they were both single and, if they enjoyed time together in such a manner, she wasn’t going to judge nor criticise.
Left by herself, she wandered back to the bar to grab another drink. While stood there, a man captured her attention for some reason. There were around half a dozen stools for those who wished to sit at the bar. He was sitting alone, nursing what look like a spirt mixed with cola. He glanced her way and she immediately noticed the blue eyes, almost similar to hers, but the word she would have used for his was soulful. A smile briefly flickered on his face before he turned back to looking at nothing.
Ordering her drink, she carried it towards the solitary man. He didn’t look lonely, but he looked like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Cindy thought he looked sad, and was wondering how anyone could be sitting in a club like this feeling sad, when everyone else was clearly having a great time.
“Is this seat taken?” she asked, gesturing to the empty stool next to him.
He turned and seemed surprised that anyone would want to talk to him. He wasn’t exactly giving off the vibe that he was interested in conversation. “No, take a seat if you’d like,” he replied.
It wasn’t exactly a welcoming invitation but she wasn’t going to judge him. First impressions might count but she could read when someone had a lot on their mind. “Are you here alone?”
She almost giggled at the smirk that appeared on his face. “Well, I’m sitting here alone, though I’m not lonely. Yeah, I’m here with a few mates. Funnily enough, I’m one of only a couple of straight guys in our friend group. Go figure, so that’s why I’m sat at the bar. I think my vibe is warning most people away. Guys hit on me and I’m polite enough when turning them down flat.” He took a sip of his drink and glanced her way. “Are you here by yourself?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Well, a woman as gorgeous as yourself is either in here with her girlfriend, hoping to find herself a girlfriend, or you’re a straight woman in a gay bar hoping to avoid being hit on by douchebags.”
She giggled. She couldn’t help it, as he hit the nail on the head, if she wasn’t a transwoman. “No, I’m here with three of my friends. Two of them are indisposed, the other is on the dancefloor, hoping to pick up.”
“I would ask…” He paused and shook his head before offering his hand. “I’m Mark.”
She took his hand and immediately knew they were the hands of a working man. “I’m Cindy. It’s nice to meet you, Mark.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Cindy. In fact, it’s nice to talk to a flesh and blood woman. But I’m also not going to sit here and complain.”
“Rough night?”
“No, rough few years. I’m sure you don’t want to hear about it. But it’s the rough few years which is why my friends are enjoying themselves tonight and I’m happy to sit here for a couple of hours, nurse a couple of drinks, and then just go home.”
When she rested a hand on his shoulder, he glanced her way and managed to a slight smile. “Anything you care to share, Mark? Sometimes talking to a complete stranger is the best thing in the world.”
He almost scoffed and laughed, a strange mix of sounds, before he sculled his drink and gestured to the bartender. “Jack and Coke and whatever the lady is drinking,” he stated.
“Rum and Coke, please.” She moved her hand down his arm, feeling the muscles in his bicep and then his forearm. “Thank you, Mark. That’s very kind.”
“You’re the first woman to ever sit next to me in this club, in all the times I’ve been here with my friends, and not look at me like I’m a piece of shit because I’m quite clearly straight.”
He kept calling her a woman and never once insinuated anything else. She found herself smiling despite herself. Granted, he had glanced at her, but perhaps… She shook her head at that thought. She looked in the mirror and saw a woman. That’s what mattered. But still, it was nice to hear him call her a woman without any doubt in his tone.
The bartender placed the drinks in front of them, Mark tapped his card on the little machine, and he offered his glass to clink with hers. “To sharing my life with a stranger,” he stated.
Taking a sip of her drink, she turned her body so she was facing him. Only then did he take a moment to look her up and down. Handbag strap was between her boobs, and her cleavage was obvious. The hem of her dress rode up her thighs so the top of her thigh highs were just about visible. Crossing her legs, she ensured one of her shoes was just about brushing his leg. Very subtle but she couldn’t help herself.
“Sure you want to hear about this? Last chance to make your escape and enjoy your evening.”
“You bought me a drink, Mark. I think a fair exchange is hearing your story.”
He sipped at his drink again before taking out his wallet, taking a small photo from inside. He passed it across. It was the photo of a beautiful little girl. If she guessed, perhaps anywhere between five and ten years old. “Who is this?”
“My daughter. Emily. She’s seven years old. The only thing that’s basically kept me going the past couple of years.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, it’s what makes coming to places like this with my friends more difficult. They’re aware, of course, but I won’t let my personal problems stop them from having fun. And I appreciate the fact they actually give a shit about me, and they pretty much drag me out of my house each time, otherwise I’d never leave.”
“What’s difficult about places like this?”
She noticed him scull the drink again. He coughed and shook his head. “I won’t order another one yet.” When she sculled her drink, he looked at her and grinned. “Another one?”
“My round, Mark. Fair is fair.”
“Well, if you’re going to listen to my sob story…” He gestured to the same bartender and simply stated, “Same again.”
After paying for the next round, she shuffled her chair closer and ensuring she was touching his arm the entire time. Her eyes took in his face before gazing down his body. Broad shoulders. His arms were thick as the shirt was tight to his biceps. But when she looked at his left hand, it was immediately obvious what likely made him feel sad. The lighter skin colour of where his wedding band once sat wasn’t hard to miss.