It Was Like She Missed Being "Him": an Au-Naturale, Free-Spirited, Fuckboy.
Trans-Limerence
This is an excerpt from chapter 3 of my memoir, Loving Her Reflection. The title of this chapter is called “Fuckboy”. You can find a full introduction to this book and read + listen to more chapter excerpts here.
She seemed to idolize her former “Trans” self. It was like she missed him.
A harsh yellow light illuminated the room when we flipped the main switch. Overall, it was a warm, cute space—but definitely better for one person, or maybe for a couple that is very intimate. Being slammed in there with Latavia just one hour after my first time meeting her, felt like a trap.
I had no idea where we would do our interview. Nowhere else was open at this time of year, so it would have to be filmed in her Airbnb. I tried to envision it happening on the little couch, talk-show style, but my thoughts were interrupted by the present.
“You hungry?” She asked, motioning for me to join her at the table. We sat down and had a few bites. It was around 9pm and getting late, so I didn’t want to eat too much. Between the two of us, we ate about half of the food, and saved the rest for leftovers.
After washing my dishes, I walked around to surveil the space. I slowly sank into the cushy armchair across the bed, while Latavia scurried around between the bedroom and bathroom to get settled for the night.
I was silent for a while before she turned to me and said,
“Be my guest and make yourself at home. And just so you know, you’re not hostage here. If you don’t want to stay the night, I can take you home. It’s not a problem.”
I nodded, and continued in my quiet contemplation as she did her thing. I was sitting in that armchair, curled up in a ball like a suspicious cat in a new environment, seriously wondering if I should stay.
A voice deep down screamed “GO HOME!” But I wasn’t ready to peel myself away just yet. I was still processing. Still considering…
Latavia emerged from the bathroom wearing leggings and a T-shirt, with her silk scarf still wrapped around her head. She settled down on the bed across from me. I didn’t budge. My body language was closed off, and I felt emotionally unsafe.
Moments later, she sat up straight and pulled her ankles up over her head, stretching her flexible legs into a wide V. Her pussy faced towards me, as she gently sighed and moaned.
I rolled my eyes, slightly turned off. “That’s my job,” I thought to myself.