Untamed Beauty

"Stacy..."

"Tracy," she corrected.

"Right. Tracy," you said, looking at the stranger sitting on your bed, who in turn was staring at you, doe-eyed, enamored, "So you love me."

"It's a surprise to me too," she said, "an hour ago I didn't even want to be a woman anymore, but now... well, I'm not exactly sure what I want to be, except that I want to be with you."

"You don't want to be a woman?"

"I want to be with you!" she emphasized, "Do you like women?"

"Yes."

"Then that's settled," she said, a satisfied look on her face, "I'm going to be a woman," she took a deep breath, "Actually, that feels pretty good to say out loud. Like I'm putting something heavy down that I've carried for so long, like I'm lighter somehow."

"Hold on, hold on," you said, pacing, "You were going to transition, and now you're not? How does that even work? You can't just change who you are for me!"

"Why not? People compromise for love all the time, and my gender identity is a small sacrifice to make for what we have," again her eyes became glassy as she stared at you, then, "Wait!"

Before you could say anything, she had her t-shirt over her head and thrown across the room. Beneath the shirt, wrapped tightly around her chest, was a wide, white tensor. Tracy unwrapped it, freeing a pair of breasts that had been bound beneath. She took a deep breath, held it, and released it in a satisfied sigh.

"My first real breath as a woman," she smiled at you, "your woman."

"Okay. Just stop for a minute," you said, crossing the room and sitting on the corner of your dresser, "It's not that I'm not flattered that a woman just walked into my bedroom and took off her shirt for me, but we just met. And giving up on transitioning is a big step, a huge decision."

"Old news," she said, waving it away with her left hand as if it were of as little consequence as a fruit fly, "That's not what I want anymore. I want you. And I want you to want me. It took me years to finally decide to start taking the pills and get the surgery, and you stopped me on the way to my appointment! There's no way that's coincidence. That's the Universe telling me something. I wasn't indecisive, I was waiting, and I just didn't know for what! I was waiting for you!"

Showing no sign of shame, or even self-consciousness, Tracy brings her hands up and fluffs up her breasts, as if they were pillows that had been packed too tightly and needed air. Then she leans back, hands supporting her on the mattress, her torso on full display. Her style was that of a woman who didn't want to impress a man in any way, shape, or form, but still she was beautiful. Bald, hairy legs, no make-up, and still you are attracted to her. Maybe it was a natural beauty that couldn't be overcome by style decisions. Maybe, though, it was the simple fact that love makes one's inner beauty shine outwardly.

"I'm not single," you blurted, feeling guilty about the admission, but wanting to be honest, "There are two other women that I'm dating."

"Two other women..." she said, her voice tailing off at the end. Tracy hadn't changed posture, but her face told the whole story. Tears had begun to well up in her eyes, worry lines on her face began to appear.

"They were... are... I don't know, gay like you," you continued, "and it was the same thing. They just told me that they loved me."

"Gay?" Tracy said, sitting up, "oh John, don't be ridiculous. If they're lesbians, then of course they would love you." She wiped her eyes and smiled, "You had me worried there for a minute. I can't blame lesbians for wanting you, and you deserve every one you want. Including me."

Her smile had become hungry. She stood up unbuttoned her cargo shorts and allowed them to drop to the floor, followed by the men's briefs she had on below. Completely naked, Tracy looked wild, untamed. You had always loved traditionally beautiful women like Jasmine, but staring at this naked creature in your bedroom, you had to admit that she held a sex appeal that you wouldn't have anticipated when you met her on the driveway.

"So, lover," she said, walking toward you, trying to act as feminine as she could, obviously needing more practice, "how do you want me?"