Hot for Talia: An Erotic Transgender Romance

by Bloom, Julian

  That was not the end of the night by any means, and it was a long time before they reheated and enjoyed the dinner Harry had brought, and even longer before they left their bed for the last time – reluctantly - because they needed to show themselves on campus.

  Shirlee thought that life could hardly get better than this, and when he dropped her off and waved good-bye she was reassured by the assurance that in a few weeks he would return. That was, however, the last moment she ever saw him. He never returned to Lafayette; he never phoned or wrote. He just disappeared.

  Shirlee’s misery was compounded by the impossibility of sharing her grief with her family, among whom she had to maintain a pretense of holiday cheer. The one or two friends who had been aware how far the relationship between Harry and Shirlee had become just shrugged and asked her what she could expect from an African. She never, in fact, recovered fully, and when Brad began to court her, she turned to him for the little comfort his attention provided.

  When Shirlee woke up, sweating and tingling from her daydream, she found that it had something of the same effect that Harry’s real presence had, and took a long shower. As usual, it had both enforced both her desire to end her celibacy and to use her supposed virginity as a shield against disappointment and betrayal.

  Chapter 4 HALF TIME

  Brad, when he left Shirlee’s room was in a similar state of confusion. He admired Shirlee’s steadfast refusal of sex before marriage. As frustrating as it was, it spoke of a character that he wanted his wife to have. At the same time, he felt shamed that he had given in so quickly. A real man, he felt sure, would have insisted and overcome her initial resistance. She wanted him. He was sure of it. Didn’t every women, in fact, want it? That’s what his friends said, anyway. Not only had he missed a wonderful experience, he had shown himself to be a wimp. He was glad none of his friends had been around to witness the debacle.

  He mentally reviewed the bunch of guys he went hunting with. There were a couple who would have been sympathetic, who didn’t embrace the macho ethic as wholeheartedly as the others, but most would despise him, he was sure, and more than anything else, he wanted the respect of his fellow hunters. He always waited eagerly for the hunting season to open. He never felt more alive than when he had successfully stalked and brought down a buck. He relished the opportunity to be master of all he surveyed and his role as a provider for his family.

  He had wanted, in fact, to go on a hunting safari with Shirlee, but she had insisted on a visit to a game park instead. He had given in on that too, something he didn’t like to remember. His friends had made ribald comments about that, employing words like “henpecked” and worse, “pussy whipped.” He had considered giving Shirlee up over that, but he wasn’t at all sure he would find a replacement. He was not physically attractive; he couldn’t persuade himself otherwise. He was, to put it politely, pudgy. He was strong enough; his hunting had given him a reasonable musculature, but there was nothing like the kind of definition he saw on the cover of Men’s Health, which he looked at every month on the rack at the drug store but never persuaded himself to buy. Nor was he particularly intelligent. He wasn’t stupid either, but no girl would be attracted to his brilliance. He could be charming and was good company in groups, but face to face with a girl, he was a bit tongue-tied, lacking the self-confidence to be fluent. All in all, he felt lucky to have captured Shirlee, and was loath to give her up.

  Chapter 5 CHANGE OF VENUE

  The overnight flight to Lusaka went smoothly. Shirlee and Brad were a bit awkward with each other because of the incident of the night before, but both made an attempt to smooth things over – more or less successfully.

  Lusaka Airport, their first experience of Africa showed them Africa at its worst: stifling heat, overwhelming noise, and what seemed to American eyes, total chaos. There were no signs anywhere. If you belong to an oral culture, you either watch to see where other people are going or ask for directions, but Brad and Shirlee didn’t. Brad was of the “real men don’t ask” persuasion and Shirlee was too timid to take charge. Fortunately, Central African Safaris had a Lusaka representative to deal with exactly the problem they were having, but unfortunately, he had got caught up in Lusaka’s horrendous traffic and didn’t arrived until his charges were thoroughly discouraged. When they saw his sign with their names on it, they made their way to it with haste, Brad shouldering aside anybody who was so unfortunate as to get in the way. “Where the hell have you been?” he snarled. The Central African representative, used to tourists of Brad’s type was fulsomely apologetic and managed with practiced ease to smooth Brad’s ruffled feathers. He led them to the Immigration window and then to the baggage collection point. The bags were still being carried in on hand carts, and there were a few uneasy moments because neither Shirlee nor Brad could see theirs, but before too long their bags appeared and the Central African rep helped carry them, there being no trolleys, to the departure desk for their flight to Mfuwe. Fortunately, they hadn’t long to wait, and the rep’s cheerful chatter pretty well restored their peace.

  When Shirlee saw the plane they were going on, an aged two prop four seater, she paled visibly, and took Brad’s hand. Brad was himself none too sure he wanted to fly on it either, but managed to reassure Shirlee with a confidence he didn’t feel. The rep, expecting their reaction joined in, assuring them that in ten years there had never been an accident. The pilot looked like a teenager, which wasn’t helpful, but his air of absolute assurance was, and he told them that the weather was perfect so the flight would be smooth.

  And indeed, so it was. After a few minutes of unease, Shirlee managed to relax and look out the window at the landscape not very far below them. Even in the Midwest, she had never seen a countryside so devoid of the evidence of human habitation. They flew over a few farms near Lusaka, but after that there was nothing but trees and an occasional road. Shirlee commented that it seemed desolate, but Brad remarked that it would be great for hunting.

  As they began their descent into Mfuwe, they crossed the Luwangwa River, red brown and braided into many channels. The pilot pointed at what looked like dark brown rocks in the river and mouthed “hippos.” Shirlee didn’t really get what he was saying, but when she looked more closely she could see that the rocks were indeed moving about and guessed what they were. She was thrilled, and all her worries behind her, she was filed with eagerness to be down among them.

  Mfuwe airport consisted of two sheds, one marked “Customs” and the other “Immigration” but at least, Shirlee thought, it was clear where they were supposed to go. The formalities were very relaxed and the officials welcomed them warmly. As soon as they were finished, a tall African greeted them and introduced himself as “Blessings”. He was dressed in a khaki safari suit: a loose short-sleeved jacket and very short shorts. He wore shoes of rough beige suede, without socks,which Brad and Shirlee soon learned was a practically universal fashion in Zambia. The arms and legs revealed by his costume were muscular, hairless, and deep brown.

  Shirlee took to him immediately, not least because he reminded her strongly of Harry. Brad’s hackles rose immediately as he sensed a masculine threat. Physically he was no match for Blessings; nor could he match Blessings’s easy affability and charm. Consequently he was surly, embarrassing Shirlee who tried to make up for it by being extra friendly. It was not a promising beginning.

  Blessings, from long experience, knew exactly what was going on and how to deal with it. He sighed inwardly. His enjoyment of the safari depended entirely on the nature of the clients, and this one did not look promising. The other four members of the party, who had arrived by car, were white Zimbabweans, taught from birth that they were superior to blacks, and without being overtly offensive had made it clear what they thought. They were all school chums having a reward for successfully passing out of secondary school. Undoubtedly they would think they knew everything that there was to know about African game, which was a problem for Blessings, whose job included a lot of ins
tructive patter to interest the clients when there was no game to see. He could deal with them, but it was an effort. Not only that, with only one female in the party, Blessings saw little hope of sexual dalliance, which often enlivened the guide’s spare time. He found Shirlee quite attractive, in fact, but with her husband as prickly as a porcupine, it would be very difficult to take advantage of that.

  He ushered Shirlee and Brad into the open safari vehicle with its tiered seats and canvas canopy, and they drove to Thornicroft Camp, which was beautifully situated along the east bank of the river in a remote spot north of the entrance to the park.

  Chapter 6 THE AWAY GAME

  Luwangwa National Park, perhaps the best of all Southern African game parks covered the large flood plain of the Luwangwa River, which formed the western border of the park. The only road access to the park was a bridge across the river – perfect for tourists, who were invariably treated to a panorama full of animals: hippos, crocodiles, water buck and other herbivores as soon as they entered the park. Shirlee was enchanted pointing out various animals to Brad, and asking Blessings what they were. Brad was excited too, but sorely missed his rifle; there were literally dozens of easy shots. Wisely, however, he refrained from mentioning that to Shirlee.

  Once across the river on their way to the camp, they saw a family of elephants with several very young infants who were crossing the road ahead of them on their way to drink at the river, magical in the golden light of the afternoon sun.

  At the camp, Blessings, after helping them out of the safari vehicle and collecting his rifle from the rack in the vehicle, ushered them to their tent, set on a concrete foundation and including a bathroom which had an open-air shower set overlooking the river but enclosed on the other three sides for privacy. Blessings, after showing them the features of the tent, told them that there would be drinks at the dining enclosure in about half an hour. He told them that they could walk freely in the camp during the day, but warned them that they should be aware that it wasn’t fenced so they should keep their eyes out for game wandering about. He assured them that dangerous game virtually never entered the camp except at night.

  Shirlee and Brad showered and changed their clothes. It was clear that Brad assumed that as they would be living as a married couple, sleeping in adjacent beds, that his long celibacy would be at an end, and Shirlee really couldn’t think of any way to refuse. He joined her in the shower, but contented himself with soaping her all over, an activity he and she both found extremely erotic, but agreed with Shirlee when she urged him to wait until they had more time.

  Dinner was not a pleasant experience, except for the food, which was excellent. The four Zimbabweans introduced themselves and then interacted almost exclusively among themselves, except for covert predatory glances at Shirlee and negative comments about America, obviously indirectly addressed to Shirlee and Brad. Neither Shirley nor Brad retained their names, nor felt any great desire to. Brad, as usual when confronted by self-confident males, sank into sullen non-responsiveness except for monosyllabic answers to questions directly addressed to him. Shirlee, despite herself, could not keep her eyes off Blessings. Every inch of him, it seemed, from his sparkling eyes and brilliant teeth, both highlighted by his dark skin, to the substantial bulge in his shorts and the muscular thighs below it, brought back disturbing memories of Harry. Since nobody but Blessings seemed interested in conversation with her, she really had no choice to chat with him. He, while trying vainly to make the conversation general, had no choice but to concentrate mainly on Shirlee, bringing out stories of his life as a game guard and quizzing her about her life. In the course of their conversation he gradually felt himself attracted to her personality as well as her body, and wondered why on earth she had gotten engaged to Brad. Surely, she could have done better. Her emphasis on her straitlaced life was slightly off-putting, but Blessings had known similar clients for whom the African bush brought out behavior they never would have engaged in at home. He caught the electric vibes between them, despite Shirlee’s attempts to disguise them, and wondered if something might arise out of them to make the safari more interesting both to him and, he hoped, her. Evading the porcupine next to her would take very careful maneuvering, but the challenge itself would be entertaining.

  As an opening gambit, he casually mentioned the camp swimming pool, situated with a view of the river which could provide a welcome relief from the searing midday heat during their long midday rest period, and was pleased that Shirlee seemed more interested in it than Brad. Maybe he could build on that.

  The Zimbabweans, increasingly inebriated as the meal advanced, lapsed into reminiscing about some bush experiences they had had as youngsters, most notably hunting. Two of them had arranged to “hunt” lions that had been raised for the purpose – the practice known as “canned hunting.” Brad perked up at that. It sounded exactly like something he would very much like to do. His fantasies of a lion skin rug as a trophy brought the first animation of the evening onto his face, and he quizzed the guys about their experience. They, of course, emphasized the mostly non-existent dangers involved and how vividly alive they had felt when doing it. Brad was entranced and asked them for the names of the companies they had used and their addresses.

  Shirlee was appalled, but said nothing. She had accepted that Brad loved hunting, but somehow, killing deer for food in the American forests where there was a case for culling was entirely different from killing magnificent inedible beasts in the African bush. The idea horrified her. She was glad when the meal ended because of that, but also because her Blessings-induced memories of Harry had aroused her and made her eager for the encounter that she knew would take place as soon as they reached their tent for the night.

  Chapter 7 THE FIRST HALF

  Brad, as she had expected, lost no time once they were alone in stripping, obviously expecting her to do the same. As she did so, he postured and preened, his organ already stiff and throbbing. As his body was a far cry from that of a Greek god, or even Shirlee’s personal African god, Shirlee avoided looking at him. When she was bare, he took her in his arms and threw her on the bed. She insisted that he turn off the light, but as soon as he had reluctantly done so, he pushed her legs wide with his knees, and plunged into her. Shirlee had anticipated making a false cry of pain as might be expected of a virgin, but the suddenness of his assault made her cry out without dissembling, and if Brad noticed it at all, he accepted it and continued thrusting without a pause. Fortunately, Shirlee had been made ready by her daydreaming, and she was well into a growing excitement when he suddenly reached his climax and once the explosion was over, quickly deflated and withdrew, leaving Shirlee in mid-flight.

  Humiliated and contrite, he sat up and groaned, “I’m sorry! But I’ve been longing for that for months. Next time will be better.”

  “It’s alright,” Shirlee replied truthfully. “It’s just the first time.”

  But despite both their efforts, including vigorous hand work by Shirlee, it seemed that the second time would be some time off, perhaps even the following night. Brad hurriedly levered himself off the bed and stomped out of the room to the shower – not because he particularly wanted a shower, but because it was the only way he could get off by himself where, close to tears, he could recover. Shirlee lay on the bed and stroked herself until she was calmed. She’d never done that before, but she had read about it and anyway it was an instinctive response to her condition of arousal. By the time Brad returned, she was lying on her own bed pretending to be asleep, and he joined her silently, relieved that he didn’t have to say anything because he could think of nothing to say.

  When they were awakened at dawn the next morning, Brad had “the morning boner,” and wanted to do something about it, but Shirlee argued, accurately, disguising her reluctance, that there was only time to dress and grab a quick cup of coffee before they set off on the morning game drive.

  When they were joined by the four groggy Zimbabweans, they were ushered into the saf
ari vehicle. The four Zimbabweans headed for the two rear tiers of seats where the height gave marginally better views, leaving the seat behind Blessings to Brad and Shirlee. This suited Blessings because he thought it likely that the four would be bored with his patter, if not actively disagreeing with what he said, which was quite possible.

  It was a glorious morning, the chill in the air giving no hint of the heat that was coming. Before driving off, Blessings gave the usual instructions about keeping quiet or talking in whispers when game was in sight, not standing up when the vehicle was moving, and not smoking without Blessings’s permission.

  Very soon after leaving the camp, they came across a family of hyenas with three pups young enough to be cute. Since Luwangwa in recent years had been relatively free from poaching, except for rhinos, the family ambled off, not much bothered by the presence of a vehicle. But when one of the Zimbabweans said loudly, “I’ll bet we could kill all of them at once,” they ran. Blessings ignored what the guy had said, but reminded them to keep quiet. Shirlee wanted to ask them why they would want to do that, but was restrained by Brad’s likely reaction. Shirlee had hoped that the whole question of hunting wouldn’t arise in a game park, but apparently she was wrong.

  Brad initiated his usual informative talks about Luwangwa and its ecosystem, and was relieved that the Zimbabweans, while showing little interest, did not contradict him. The morning went well with a number of very good sightings, including the majestic sable antelope, waterbuck, male kudus with their magnificent spiral horns and giraffe.