Moonlight

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I'm editing this to make the TG element stronger, and intend to add an indeterminate number of chapters following. My muse has directed that this story will take an astonishing change in direction.

Moonlight
By
Gwen Brown

A lonely, divorced and abandoned woman finally pays an escort to take her out. She feels that if she is careful, she can afford to do this once a month.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The afternoon had been hot, but the late afternoon breeze had begun to make it more comfortable. Still, the only dress that felt right to me was a black floor length one with no slits, and with long sleeves and modest neck, perhaps a carryover from my Middle Eastern background. I used my favorite pearl necklace and dangly gold ear rings. I suppose the clothing was so modest because I still felt invalid even after all these years since my corrective surgery. Oh, a Mini and a tube top would have been so nice, but at my age, hardly appropriate.

We'd never met before, so when he rang the doorbell and I answered the door, he was a pleasant surprise even after seeing his picture on SKYPE. We chatted for a minute as I checked to see the stove was off and the cat had food. He looked to be over 6’ and muscular. His face was like looking at stone, but his quick smile and gentle eyes beguiled me. My body tittered happily as we walked toward his car, and what I saw was a very pleasant surprise.

We were going to drive my car, but when he showed up in an Audi R-8 Coupe, I would have begged to ride in it in the most compelling terms, had he not offered. I did not ask if it was his and he did not volunteer the information. He was so attentive, opening the door for me, and guiding me into his car and later into the theater. It helped me to forget somewhat that this evening was costing me $200 escort fee. I knew little about him … he could have been straight, gay or one of those FtM transgender people, you know the kind. All I knew was that the agency had approved him and that they had a good reputation. Eleven years after the devastating divorce because of my first being thought to be TG, I finally realized that I did not have to cope with the feelings of abandonment all the time, that I could occasionally pay someone for companionship to ease the terminal, crushing pain of desertion. Later Doctors told me that a genetic component, XXY had actually driven all this, though the family would never accept it.

The movie was one of those cartoon book like, violent shows for the young with lots of one liners, and colorful, giant, mechanical warriors. I thought it would be a good distraction from a life that ate away at my well-being all too much. The sociopolitical commentary I wrote, and published online made my living but often, being faced with the dismal likelihood that nothing I said would change the world, sometimes it drew the life out of me. The fate of the human race looked sadly bleak at times.

This was Jon’s first assignment with me, but he seemed relaxed and confident. He treated me with more dignity than I felt entitled to. In spite of the gender surgery a few years ago and the later identification of the genetic condition that caused my body to betray me in my youth, I sometimes still felt like an imposter.

I’d given him $50 on top of his fee to feed us and to ply me with the spirits. It was clear in our agreement that our activities tonight and for the foreseeable future would not include coitus.

The evening was absolutely lovely. We sat in the dining room theater and drank IPA and ate mediocre cheese Pizza in the twenty or so minutes before the movie started. He revealed himself to be a brilliant conversationalist, and drew me in with his wide ranging interests. There was a slight untraceable accent, that I could not identify. His quips during the movie and his comforting me in the harrowing parts made the evening so much more fulfilling. At several places in the movie, the action was so sudden and violent I simply covered my eyes and squealed like a child. I jumped and wailed with unsophisticated weakness. Much to my wonderment, his arm around my shoulders, drawing me to his hard, muscled chest felt unimaginably comforting. In a short lull in the action, the armrest separating us disappeared. He'd claimed his place, however temporarily, as the strong, masculine, master of my life, fulfilling a longing that I'd felt for so long but had no way to meet myself.

When we came out of the movie and began to walk down the street toward his car, he kept me tucked into his side protectively, he asked me, “If you were going to be wild and childlike tonight, what would you do?” His question took me by surprise, but the forbidden beer had relaxed me. It was not permissible in my culture, and his warm comforting made me feel special.

Having just sighted the full Moon, the warm evening felt special and I was hardly ready to return to the sometimes claustrophobic feeling apartment. On the spur of the moment, I said, “I would go up on top of Larch Mountain in the dark and watch the Moon and hope that the Stars would sing to me”. We chatted about incidental things as we finished going to the car. Again he handed me into the car, and surprising me, he buckled me in by leaning past me. Whatever he had on his skin seemed to hypnotize me and I behaved myself, playing my role in this dream as well as I could.

I was so caught up in conversation with Jon, that I did not realize he was not taking me home until his car rocketed onto I-84 East. I did not know how fast he actually went but it was the most thrilling ride I’d ever been on, surpassing even one of those wild fun park rides! "He must be taking me to Larch Mountain" I thought. As late as it was, I knew it would be 1:00 AM before we got to the parking lot at Larch Mountain. The car was so fast that it seemed like a very few minutes before we left the freeway and started up the winding road that led to the view point. I’d felt as if the ride was less than an hour and with him, it was most certainly far less than one hour! The car swept around the corners so fast that had I not been strapped into the seat, I should have been plastered on the windows on both sides of the very fun car. I was giggling and screaming all the way! I felt completely safe because of the way he commanded the car.

My initial fear of our hitting a deer was lessened when I looked at the dash and could see a false color image projected inside the windshield. When I asked about it, he said it was an infrared projector of his own design. As we roared down the road, I saw the image of several deer painted there on the windshield, but they were far enough off the road to allow us to pass without concern. Just as we entered the parking lot, a deer ran right in front of us, but he quickly slowed down to allow the doe to pass. When we parked, in the Moonlight, I saw two fawns rushing to meet Mom.

The air had cooled and had a slight chill to it. Jon surprised me again with a huge coat, far too large for me but very warm. Even at 4000 feet, I was warm and snugly. We slowly walked across the parking lot, the amazing Moon and star light provided enough illumination for us to walk cautiously up the path and then pick our way up the stairs to the top. I’d worn low heels but in his sure arms there was no fear of falling and when I stumbled he magically caught me as if he was Thor or someone. We walked slowly and in a few minutes we were at the last few steps to the top.

He handed me out onto the fenced, reasonably flat top, and the sudden view of Stars and the dimly lit surrounding terrain had me clinging to him, my face buried in is chest. Eventually, peeking out from my hiding place, we looked at the Moon making Mt Hood glow in the dark. The Moon was about to set, and in a little while we would see the Milky Way marching around the sky. We sat there and watched as it all happened. I felt so snug and safe and secure.

After the Moon set we stayed a little while longer and as we left clouds began to set in around the Mountain Top, making our passage down even the short distance to the parking lot seem hazardous. I had the little flashlight I always kept in my purse, and he had a strange looking green light that helped so much more than mine.

On the way back to my house, he drove smoothly but still reasonably fast and in spite of my original excitement, I dozed off. It was a great surprise when the engine shut off in front of my home. He helped me from his car with the same grace and courtesy he used to pick me up. I told him that I would like to use him again sometime, and he said to just give him a call. His endearing smile made me want to abandon our agreement and take him to bed.

I watched him walk out to his R8, start it and leave. Standing in the open door way I imagined I could hear him far longer than I actually could. My heart ached at his absence. How on earth could I bear this? Sighing deeply, I turned and shut my door. Even at almost 3:00 AM, sleep would not come swiftly.

That was weeks ago, and while I wanted to see him again, there were unexpected bills and I could not afford it.

I was sitting there writing one night, almost ready to get dressed for bed when through the open window I heard the unmistakable noise of an R8. I heard it getting closer, and then the noise of a freight train in the distance drowned it out. By the time the train passed, the R8 was gone. I sighed and went back to my story. There was no sound of steps on the walk or on the steps. Presently, there was a knock at the door. I looked at the clock. It was almost 9:00 PM. Was it too late to answer the door? I had a feeling that I must answer.

When I got to the door, I looked out the tiny port, and there stood a familiar looking man with what I thought was a head dress. My heart knew it before I did. I would never forget the garb of my once deep faith that had disowned me when the change came. Inside my house, the covering was not required so he could not accuse me, even if he wanted to do it.

I opened the door and it was Jon! He was wearing Arab Thobe and Saudi style head dress! If I had stood there a while, I would know the tribe because of this distinctive style. I stood there, completely mesmerized, unable to comprehend what I was looking at. Finally gathering my wits about me, I intelligently said, “ I … What … Who …Oh my gosh … I don’t … Wait …”. I slammed the door in his face and ran into my bedroom and into my closet. In the back, even after long disuse, hung my black Abaya, but I would not wear it tonight. Old habits die hard and in just a minute I had my long skirt and my top off and replaced by the long sleeve one and put my Hijab that I wore every day back on my head. I did this in such a flurry of activity that I do not know how it actually happened.

I opened the door, fearing it might not reveal him, but it did. “Little sister, now you wear Hijab for me but why not the night you paid me to come?” Rather than try more intelligent talk, I just looked at him. I know our culture dictates that I lower my eyes, but my heart rebelled.

“I had business or would have returned sooner.” He said.

“I cannot pay you”. I murmured.

“ It is I who should pay. Would my heart be payment enough to pay you?” He asked. My mind could not comprehend this. What was he saying? “I don’t understand. You can’t love me. You don’t know me. It can never be!” I returned.

“How about if we ‘fly on until dawn?’, and in the mean time we can talk about what can and cannot be?”

“No wait, I have questions, and I have to pack and clean my apartment and talk to the landlord and store my car and oh …” His finger was covering my lips. He smiled at me. “Let’s talk over breakfast in Monaco?”

How could this ridiculous dream really be happening to me? Then, it was clear that life had no value if it didn't.

As we were walking toward his car, a woman in a white dress,and a man in a black suit were walking past us. “They will take care of everything”. He said. This time I did not try to speak intelligently.

As we rode in his R8, crazy fears flitted through my head. What would they think when they found my tight black suit and weapons, all part of another life that now seemed more fantasy than anything.

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Comments

The woman in us.

I do not know how many have actually thought through what a woman wants and if they would really want what a woman would want. I doubt that there are any typical women, but I do know for sure that this is what this woman wants.

Gwen

Damn my skepticism

I'd be so freaked out by something like this I'd never be able to enjoy it. Call it skepticism, call it my gran's paranoia showing up in my genes, whatever... but, ya. Still its awesome and one hell of a dream to have.

And its a really great short story. At this size, crafting one with this much depth is really quite an accomplishment.

"Dream a Little Dream"

Sometimes our dreams are all that keep us going. Life would not be worth it otherwise. With all the ugliness around us, sometimes a little interlude in fantasy helps us along the way. I have known men that are that gracious. Besides he was being paid to pretend she mattered, or at least she thought so.

I know a true story where a man from United Arab Emirates showed up at a Portland girl's door step. I do not know the outcome, whether she went with him or not. I most assuredly would go. :)

Gwen

Having known you for many years now,

I could see the Gwen I know in every word. Very well written and very much what I know you would want in your life.

While I cannot understand the allure of the middle East, and it's culture and mores, I can appreciate that I don't know everything and that other people want things I cannot understand.

Good, romantic writing, Gwen. I think you done good on this one. Solid imagery, a believable protagonist and a good plot. A snapshot of a lonely m to f who gave up everything for what she needed most of all.

Hugs, love and respect,
Cathy

P.S. As an editor, I could find no real flaws, at least none that would require the services of an editor. Damn! Another writer who has learned to spell and punctuate correctly! Too many like you would put editors like me out of business! LOL.

As a T-woman, I do have a Y chromosome... it's just in cursive, pink script. Y_0.jpg

An easily solved mystery

There are some basic needs which we all have to one degree or the other that we can not meet of ourselves. Some can achieve varying degrees of success by writing and essentially living their stories as they are written.

I doubt that a Saudi prince will ever come into my life and carry me off. I am tutoring a heart stopping, handsome Saudi man right now and my imagination runs amok at times. I do not intend to tell him I am man in Abaya, having finally realized that I never was man.

G

Ummm...

I think that if we're all honest about ourselves, this is what we would all want; to be sheltered, wanted, indeed needed. I know it's certainly what I want. Great little tale!!! :)

Just another needy...

Brat

PKB_003b.jpg

Thank you so much.

I know that most here will not seek out Arab Prince. I have met some extremely handsome, kind and commanding Saudi men. Perhaps it is best that I can not turn clock back 45 years. :) And yes, now that I understand the purpose and significance of Abaya and Niqab I would do it.

Gwen

Glad you're back.

Good to see you writing again - and from the heart it seems. You write of what so many women need, dream and want. Take care, see you soon hopefully. Bev.

bev_1.jpg

Bevs I am burried.

I will try to spend some time on SKYPE late this evening, the time when you are getting up.

G

This is a nuget of pure gold.

Just because I lack familiarity with your cultural norms, I feel the very deep emotional similarities with my heart and spirit.

I am more like Neytiri looking for Jake {Avatar spoke to my condition.} But the same heart strings were plucked by your story. I love the different perspective you show us.

Huggles

Michele

With those with open eyes the world reads like a book

celtgirl_0.gif

Your flattery.

Thank you so much for your kind words.

I am actually fully American, Oh Some Native American, but mostly American. In my travels I have seen some other cultures, and been fascinated with them.

I spent 32 years as an Evangelical, and it takes little imagination to know what they do to friggen trannys. For several reasons Islam was a good fit for me. It all about that Freudian stuff you know.

I love putting Middle Eastern culture into my stories, and if I was 45 years younger, I would have married one of them by now... Sigh !

A science fiction story placed in the year 2761 will have women in Hijab in it when I finish.

Gwen

A Prince to whisk you away!

To comfort, protect & provide for your needs. Yes, this sounds wonderful and I can only wish for you that one day it comes true for you Gwendolyn! Nicely written hon. Loving Hugs Talia

Soppy Romantic

I can't really help it. I was drawn that way. :)

Gwen

All the right moves ...

... of the writer :)
The considerate driver not running over the deer which then turns out to be a doe with littles ... masterful playing of the female demographic :)

Thank You To Whoever Put This Up Again!

Even after so long, it felt so romantic that I squirmed in my seat like a COED. :)

Thank you so much.

Gwen