Who is Lucy?

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Chapter Nine - My Mistake


I have been searching it for it for many years. I tried to be casual about it and just let life take me as it was in the past but still felt the yearning like most people. When I was still a guy it was harder to find men in my small town and most that I meant on Craigslist and other sites all wanted the same thing: a hookup.

When you're younger that seems like the perfect course of action, but after you get through those turbulent college years you begin to look for something more. Then you realize that you are going to make a big change to your body, and it becomes more difficult.

I moved to the big city for various reasons. Sure, I moved away to get out of my small town and the narrow-minded people, but I also left to find a good job and was optimistic about finding love. Big city equals more people and more of social pool.

I was wrong.

What else happens when you move to a large city?

You realize there are more people like you. Meaning you have to flounder your way around other people who are looking for people as well. More gay people, more bisexual people, and oddly enough more trans people. The pool is not as open as you had hoped.

Sure I could find hookups and one night stands, but I could find that back home in the midwestern nothingness. I didn't want that and expected so much more out there.

I grew disappointed.

The more and more I stayed in the city the first few the more I grew agitated with the romance scene. I tried my best to stay optimistic but I'm not going to lie and say it was easy, because it wasn't in the slightest. I tried though.


Thinking about those moments sucked.

I enjoyed hooking up as the fall back option but it wasn't filling the hole emotionally. I felt like I always deserved more. I knew that and so did my best friend Leila, who was always that voice in the back on my mind telling me that I did deserve better.

That's how I met Avante'.

He owned an art gallery downtown that Leila frequented a few times. She would always tell how charming and sweet he was and how I should come and meet him. She was in a relationship at the time with a coworker of hers or I'm sure she would have jumped on the opportunity. But her thinking of me for him was just the she thing she would do. She knew I was lonely.

A tall blonde man stood at the door as we walked in and Leila nudged me as we entered. It was him. He was handsome with chiseled features that seemed to have come out of a glamour magazine that I read as a horny teenager.

"Hello," he spoke, a warm and swooming thick French accent filled the air seemlessly. Foreign. Added bonus. We chatted for a few moments before he returned to the other guests. He appeared to be busy but Leila wanted to stay and have some wine.

So we stayed.

For hours.

I was getting irrated but eventually Avante' returned to us. In a matter he had become very flirty and touchy, two things working in his favor. He was funny and seemed genuine, and I'm not going to lie - I was falling for fast and furiously.

Had Leila told him about me?

Did he know who he was flirting with?

You always have to ask yourself those questions. Misleading on any level is something I don’t do. Either you want me for what and who I am or no bones, get lost. Simple as that.

He got called away by an elderly gentlman who need his assitance but before he left us he handed me a piece of paper. I opened it after he smiled and walked away. It was his number. He was pretty brazen, I'll give him that one. We left shortly after, Leila swooning over after what just unfolded.

She loved being matchmaker.

She still does.

Later that night I decided to message him. Avante' messaged me back quickly, which I found endearing. We spent the next several hours chatting about his life and mine. He already knew that I am transgendered, and that Leila didn't tell him. He figured it out.

He didn't care about that.

He was attracted to me.

I fell for him fast and hard.

We went out on a few days and after the third one we had sex. We had just returned from watching a play that a friend of his was in. The sex was absolutely incredible. He took his time and made sure to pleasure me as much as I wanted to do the same to him. His cock was a good and perfect size. 7 inches and thick where it comes. But aside from that, he was amazing.

In every way.

Avante' could last so long too. Marathons were common place, us collpsing onto the bed where we would cuddle til we fell asleep. For months it was perfect. I was falling in love and completely in awe of him. He was much older than me, at about 45, and feeling safe with him came with the territory.

That all changed six months into our relationship.

Avante' had me on all fours plowing me from behind with my dress hiked and panties pulled to the side. We had just returned from the theater and after fooling across in his Lexus on the way home, we just came into my apartment and started at it.

He was fucking hard and fast, abnormal from the typical but I just chalked it up to him being already revved. Soon he came deep inside but instead of cuddling with me afterwards, he said he had to get going back home to work on a new exhibit that was coming up in a few months. That was also not typical of him.

He hated working on stuff at night.

I shrugged my shoulders, gave him a kiss, and got cleaned up after he left my apartment. I got a shower and returned to my bedroom to find my cell phone was ringing. I picked it up and saw it was a local number but didn't recognize it.

I answered it nonetheless.

"Hello," the woman's voice on the other end spoke.

"Hello, can I help you," I asked, thinking it might have been a cliente calling last at night. I've been known to not always save numbers to my phone. I grabbed a cigarette and lit it.

"I'm hoping I have the right number," the voice continued.

"Who are you looking for?"


"You got her."

I took a drag of my cigarette and ashed it in my ashtray on the night stand next to my bed. The woman's voice seemed nervous and anxious, if this was a cliente then what the hell happened?

"Can I ask what this is in regards too," I asked growing concerned.


I took a deep.

"What happened? He just left here," I blurted out for fear that something happened in the 15 minutes after he left.

"I know he did."

"Excuse me," I asked, suddenly perplexed.

"Who is this?"

"His wife."

My face went white as I set my cigarette into the ashtray. It seems like such a tired clique but it is entirely too common. Especially in a big city like this. Older married present themselves as single and gravitate towards young, unsuspecting women and use their clout and money to seduce them. And charm.

That fucking charm.

"Ahh, I didn't....," I went to say before she interrupted me.

"I know you didn't. I found your number in his phone. I had been suspecting he'd been cheating for months but chalked it up to silly jealously, even though he'd done it before."

I sat there studded and motionless.

"How long has it been going on?"

"6 months," I admitted, now shaking.

A single tear dropped down my face. I had been tricked and duped by this charming and loving man. I felt so stupid. I felt so ashamed of what I allowed myself to do.

"Well, I'm sorry. I just thought you should know."

And she hung up.

After a half hour of screaming and yelling and him making all sorts of excuses, I ended it feeling angry and saddened. I gave Avante' my already brittle heart and he managed to stomp all over it.

I hated him.

I still do.

For a long time I couldn't trust another man. I went back to just the typical casual hookups and kept men on the backburner. I didn't want to feel like that again.

That was until last night.

And this morning.

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