My first shemale

“Curious? Bi?” Well, yes, but only with a shemale. Beyond that I’m a firmly planted heterosexual. For many years I longed to have sex with a shemale but never did anything about it. (I’m not much of an initiator).

The community I live in has lots of shemale beauts; maybe that started my interest. One such ravishing creature has a gallery close to my office, and I fantasize every time I see her in the coffee shop. She also has an eye popping diamond on her ring finger.

Once in a while I’d visit shemale sites. Of the pictures the ones that turned me on the most were shemales with nice, smaller-than-normal cocks and lovely shaved balls.

I’m 26 and work as an engineer consultant. I’m five ten, have a full head of brown hair, a decent enough physique with no belly. In the looks department I’m neither a head turner nor forgettable. I’ve had my share of women and I’ll leave it at that.

One day stuck at the Philadelphia airport I was sitting at a bar, nursing a drink, killing time. A leggy thing in her mid 20s, weighing no more than 115 pounds (if that). with an expensive page boy cut came in with a large handbag and pulled a piece of roller luggage. By the way she held herself you could tell this mantrap knew she was a looker. She wasn’t the only one: I think every male and a few females followed her movements.

My eyes traveled to her above- the-knees skirt of her suit and down to her sculpted, sleek legs, calves and runway model ankles. I wondered if the skirt hid a pair of those slim thighs– the kind I like and my sister always wants–the size two kinds.

I don’t know why but something about her reminded me of the art gallery shemale. Difference was this one (if she was a shemale) had a tantalizing figure, not a boyish one–even better than some dates I’ve had. Still I began to get aroused staring at her and thought it wouldn’t be a good thing walking around the airport with a noticable woody. I finished my drink and left to find my gate.