Story: Mating Part 1

It's not the first time, but I still have my doubts. Standing in front of the tall mirror I judge the image. Do I look cute and tempting? I am in my late thirties and far away from being innocent anymore, but it's still an involved impression. Though I am a brat, I like to play with it. I wear a tight top on my flat chest and a simple white thong. The pink, belly-free top with its super-girl emblem on the front has been an old gift by close friends. I have tweezed all my hair except head and eyebrows. What a work that had been, mainly over months, but I still got to take care for some regrowth everywhere. For me, it was totally worth is. I like my smooth, soft skin much more than the human fur I had. Moles and hemangioma are visible without obstacles, but nobody is perfect anyway. I feel true to myself and more comfortable with my body this way. Fortunately, at least my size is more average, and I think it has even decreased in recent time. Everything is changing. My muscles are not showing off. My body is slim with a few paddings. My hips have always been more pear than apple shaped. The tweaked eyebrow shape makes a big difference to the new softness of my face. Creaming had also helped a lot. I give myself a kiss. I am a γamma.

Then I dress more layers of cloth. A black sweater and a brown pantyhose against the cold outside. I am quite a wimp. Then black trousers for outside. I put the black miniskirt into my bag to exchange them later, same as with the pink rubber bands for giving my curled long hair side-tails. Next is some basic make-up. I also put it into my bag, so I can decide anytime to style myself up. Some paint on the eyes alone has such a potential. I am much shyer about lipstick. Then it's time to leave. I sigh. No more excuses. It's not the first time, but every time I struggle with my experiences so far. Will I ever find someone to love and fuck?

I use the small corridor in front of the entry to change into my skirt and make my hair. Then I enter the gay bar I have chosen. I had learned to be careful and differ. Even in discriminated peer groups, some assholes want to enforce their living style onto others, or especially in haunted minorities. I don't need any muscle shirt to beat me up without my consent, and even less for my preferred look and manners. I am not looking for anything typical anyway. I have the urge to get fucked in my throat and ass. Any foreplay of kisses and petting is just a compromise to my partner's need. I had it when they grope my crotch trying to stimulate me, but I have learned to redirect their efforts to where I like it more or push them forward to the action. But even if I am desperately horny my mind and heart prevent me from seeking a simple one-time fuck with just anybody. I still need to recognize a man's character and like it. Maybe that would differ if he was a βeta instead. I know it sounds old-fashioned, but while I as a modern, enlightened being I embrace a self-determined life, the tradition that any βeta can take me when and how he wants arouses me. And of course, I dream of resting in his or their arms afterward, being cared of and tendered at least in a physical way. I just love cuddling. I think more cuddling and the world would be a much better place.

A take a deep breath and relax before I enter. As always under the week the place is only half filled. Most men are already engaged in talks with each other. I recognize some obvious flirts and two women in the corner. The one with short hair, a pierced left eyebrow, and the jeans shirt gives me a thrill on my spine, but she blows it away with the disgusted look she returns. The bartender greets me with a nod, and I feel gazes checking me out. Nothing new, but it still feels somehow strange to me. Before I reach the bar a brave man offers me a stool at his side and asks me: "What do you want to drink?". Though I am proud to have a well-paid career, I have learned to accept such invitation and reply: "Thank you. I'd like a little Guinness.". His open look tells me he is a bit surprised about my choice. I know what I am doing. Either I am going to have another one which then will be more tasteful than bitter to me, or I go straight to a hot chocolate with cream which then tastes even sweeter. "My name is Kurt.", He tells me, and he starts off sweet. He asks if I am here for the first time, since when I am coming here and how often. But when he starts talking about himself he drifts into bragging about his life, achievements, and property. He is very confident about himself and his opinions. When he asks me for another drink and tries to toast on fraternity with a kiss, I reject him politely but apparently. He tells me he has an appointment and leaves, probably for another bar, but I am glad he spares us awkward looks at each other. As I wish him "Goodbye." I spot another man who is staring at me from his seat.

He smiles and turns his view to his phone. I sense he deliberately keeps me in the corner of his eye, but it's much more pleasant this way. I have time to check him out, gather myself, think and feel. His casual cloth rests on broad shoulders and kissable neck, though he doesn't look like a balloon bodybuilder. After some time his significant chin turns back to me and his open hand points at the seat beside of him. I look around to be sure he could have only meant me. I suppress a smile halfway and step to him: "Hi! Is this place free?". There are three empty tables around us, and he nods. "Hi.", He says, and my heart skips a bump. His voice isn't as deep as I thought. I spot a childish glee in his eyes. His thick fingers tap on his phone. "Anything important?", I ask. He says "No.", smiles, and puts his phone face down on the table. "Would you like another drink?", He asks me. I start to nod, but before I can reply, he adds: "Me too. Would you fetch me another beer and anything you like, please? I insist on treating you." He gives the bartender a wink with his head. I am sure he doesn't miss the opportunity to check my backside when I go to the bar but don't look back before I return with the drinks. When I approach with our drinks, he leans back looking happy and confident.

Part 2