Everybody need somebody. I tell you if that ain’t the Good Lord truth right there. Don’t matter if you a billionaire mogul or a bum laying under the bridge. We all wanna be thought about sometimes. That shit hit harder now at my age. I’ll be 58 in August which shocks the shit outta me everyday. I had managed to beat so many odds. I was officially an OT(old tranny). Shit I was past old cause with us old was 40. I asked the Lord to tell me why he let me live so long. How was I able to live so long. My mama had told me at 15 when she kicked me out, “Thomas baby you gotta get gone. You likely be dead at 18 and I can’t stand to see no live corpse”. I respected her wishes knowing I was grown as I ever was gon get , she was raising six other kids alone and her oldest, a sissy , wouldn’t bring nothing but problems to a family in the projects. I hit them streets shaking and strutting at night and searched in vain for another job in the daytime. A few places would hire me to clean the trash in the back and offer my oral skills to landlords. I was beat up at least 20 times, had it taken without my consent at least 3 times and had been arrested at least 10 times. Somewhere in that hustle and bustle time, probably through the welfare office mandating a trade, I learned how to do hair and makeup. I continued to sell it sometimes too. At 25 and having spent a decade on the strip, I commanded a veteran presence. I had the status of a mother amongst the other young trans girls. But I never took them under my wing. I figured the best way for a girl to learn how to be a woman was to become a bitch. And transgirls had to become the coldest mothers out to survive out here. One Saturday working the strip, I met a john who changed my life. His name was Yellow and he was a gangster. Everything about Yellow was brutal, his looks, his voice, the way he fucked and the way he loved. He retired me that first night in the hotel. Told me through hard raw thrusts, ” You my bitch, you my sexy Black chocolate bitch”. The dick hurt and felt good at the same time. I moaned along ,” yes daddy I’m ya bitch”. I was putting on my shit to leave when he smacked the boot out my hand,” Where you going yo? ” Huh”, I said getting aggravated and hoping he wasn’t a crazy trick. “I said where you going?, his cornbread complexioned skin blazing red. ” You thought I was playing . You my bitch now”. I’m gon take care of you” No more of this whore life.”
Yellow bought me a house in Queens about twenty minutes from where he lived with his family. He bought me a Benz convertible and a space where I opened my beauty salon. He paid for my legal name change, new titties and denied the bottom surgery cause he loved my candy. We’d take trips to different states and countries. He introduced me to life’s excesses. It was lobster and filet mignon, the Bahamas and Paris, Benzes and mink coats. He kept up his image as a balling family man with the wife and kids and kept me as his toy and lover for 15 years till he got killed by some rival. I was at home cooking Sunday dinner that Yellow would come and eat with me after Church when a knock came at my door. I opened the door to a pretty slim brown woman who I recognized as Yellow’s wife Kayla. Her eyes were red and she said ,” Hi Tammy , I just thought you should know Yellow is dead. Our man is gone.” She held my gaze for a long minute, I was too taken aback by the whole surreal encounter. Surprisingly ,there was no hostility. She had known of her husband’s secret sissy lover. I reached to hug her and she backed up. “Take care Tammy “, she said backing out of my dining room.
18 years would pass. Business kept doing well and I managed to buy another property, a laundromat. Love was fleeting . I’d meet all kinds of random men , alot of them in person at places like the Mc Donalds or the mall. And alot of them seemed to know I was a transwoman quite different from when I was younger and passed effortlessly. I met that knowledge with equal interest. We fucked ourselves senseless. I was so lost without my Yellow, without my why, without my reason. These dalliances rarely lasted more than a few months to a year. Alotta these guys wasn’t worth shit. They sensed my longing, felt my pangs, hungered for the passion I gave them orally . Always having they fucking hands out or stealing. I had to pull my gun out a few times. The world had changed . Well at least the technology, I thought as I scrolled the ”man-cherdise” on my phone screen. A transwoman who I knew from my old street days ran into me on Jamaica Ave one day. She was the same loud, messy , dumb ass bitch from back in the days. Always making people hot. The kinda transwoman who always announced herself before being asked to, a performance really. I never learned her name. ” So yeah, girl” she said rubbing her tongue ring over the gold cap in front, ” He is everything girl. Just rock a bitch world , ” You be on OPG?” she asked me to my puzzlement of all the acronyms of the day. She explained OPG was like having all the dick in the city that had alternative tastes at your disposal in a program on your phone. “Check it out girl so you can walk funny too” she bust out laughing running off to the dumbness. I just shook my head. Later that night ,bored and curious I downloaded OPG and started browsing the boys. And boys they were , so many 18, 19 and 24 and 28 year olds. All these damn kids I thought. Ugh where was the real men at. It’s what I put in my profile, “Experienced mature t lady looking for real men. ” I followed the dominant theme of keeping it light and sweet and submitted a shot of my ass in some black jean shorts that looked least vulgar. I was tickled and groaning by at least six different 19, 24 and 25 year olds hitting me. Thick hard pink, tan and ebony dick pics followed with a sup or Nice ass or wassup mami . I must admit I was tempted to respond but I also had a thing after Yellow. I needed my men to look good facially. I needed to be taken in by that lover boy , old school sexy swagger with juicy lips and intense eyes. Hello Queen sent by Real Red. The sender was 33, said he was 6’3, 240lbs and muscled. He put he was looking for fun and preferred discreet. I responded , Hi king and we took it from there. We flirted furiously through the messages . He called me beautiful when I sent him the picture from my 55th birthday bash, cake with blue 55 candle. I gushed inside when he said he couldn’t wait to ravish me. I kept scrolling to his picture, he seemed so familiar but he was fine. We met the next night at my home and had some awesome floor shaking sex. The brotha had it going on. He fucked ferociously and I was a big gal myself but his strength made me feel so necessary weak, so wanted and needed. We were laying on my king size bed and he was saying ,” You gon be my bitch Ms. lady”. I laughed in his arms as sweet snores overtook him. My eyes worn out in ecstasy too managed to read, RIP POPS YELLOW as I fell asleep.