TS Wife (M/tg, Rom, First, Asian, Cons)

Story by rachaelross

Note for FP: If you don't know the codes M=Adult male, tg=juvenile transgender (13-17 years) Rom=Romance, Cons=Consensual Sex ...These are pretty standard, but I just want to be clear. -rr

Copyright 2004 Rachael Ross all right reserved. Intended for adults only. This text may be archived/reposted to free public access provided the author's name, email rache696@yahoo.com and this notice appear in the message body. This story may or may not be fictional in portion or entirety; any resemblance to persons and events are subject to discretionary interpretation by the reader. No fee or service has ever been provided to the author for this document, or for product placement. No animals were harmed in the making of this document.

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Author's Note: I wrote a story called "The Day I Woke Up With A Dick" which was really just a joke for me, an excuse to do a little man bashing. It did generate a large response though, mainly among persons requesting more traditional transgender stories. I'm not sure that this is what any of those readers had in mind, but it seemed like an interesting way to tackle a subject about which I admittedly know very little. I do, however, know something about romance... And that, my friend, transcends gender. Thank God! -rr

TS Wife

by Rachael

I was on a business trip to Laos when I met my wife. It was quite by accident, I wasn’t really looking to get married, even though I’m very nearly 37 years old now. I work for the richest man in the world, well for his company, so you know who I’m talking about, and I’d just made him a small fraction richer by closing a very large deal on new software for the government. It would be used in everything from schools to airports, to hospitals, to offices, banks, insurance…you name it. Plus all the support required, the training, etc. etc. My bonus alone would be six figures, maybe seven with stock options. I was happy indeed.

Unfortunately, Laos isn’t much of a place to celebrate in. I could have sat around my hotel I suppose, but I’d been there nearly 3 months putting the deal together and I was quite intimate with it already. So, with a couple days to kill, I decided to do something I’ve never done, in all my years of traveling…I went sight seeing. Strange, I know, but what the hell. I was never coming back to that God forsaken country again if I could help it, so I might as well get some pictures, just in case I forgot why.

It was in small city, or more accurately a large town, up in the mountains near an ancient temple of some touristic value that the tour group I was signed on with stopped for lunch. The people I was with were all Dutch, I believe, older folks who were on some kind of holiday. They seemed quite pleased, but I was a little sleepy, especially since they didn’t speak English. That might have been a good thing though, I weary of transient chat easily.

I wandered off by myself and found a small restaurant serving roasted chicken, which was something I could at least identify. I sat down and pointed and generally made my desire for a meal known to the old woman working there. I waited patiently, swatting at flies, feeling my shirt sticking to me in the humidity, although in the mountains it was far better than it had been down in the lowlands.

And then something caught my eye, or someone I should say. A beautiful young girl of perhaps, 13 or so, although it has always been hard for me to guess the ages of oriental women, especially young ones. She was small, very slim with long straight black hair, nearly down to her tiny waist. She had a very pretty face, heart shaped, with a petite button nose and pretty sensual lips. Not a face I'd expect to find in that country. Her eyes were two large almonds, gorgeous and alluring. She had no breasts to speak of, beneath her thin dress, but her legs were nice and clean, no scars or blemishes that I could see. And her ass was small and perfect, moving just right, back and forth.

I’d never considered myself a pedophile. Children interested me not at all and I’d been faintly repulsed by what few images and stories I’d come across on the internet by accident. So I hope you will understand that I was a little astonished to find myself thinking this way, regarding the girl as a sexual object, while I sat there. I also wish I could explain to you, and to myself, why I decided to try and speak to her, the way I did. But I don’t know why, perhaps there is a fate, or a destiny that guides us at precise times in our lives, I do not know.

But I did smile and I did say hello to the girl. She had been carrying a basket with vegetables on her head and she set it down gracefully, smiling at me and mimicking my words, saying hello with a soft accent. I offered to by her a soda, a coke or orange drink, which were the most popular. It wasn’t as difficult as you might imagine to communicate, in fact she seemed to know a little English, perhaps lea

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