Katoey's in New York

Adapting to a new life

A while ago I reported on my adventures in Bangkok and in particular with the Katoey Jaycee. I have received many letters asking about him and wanting to know if our relationship was still working. I’m pleased to say that it is.

When Jaycee arrived in New York he was lost. His whole life had flipped reversed and suddenly he was a young man again. He spent countless hours just sitting staring out of my apartment window, watching the snow falling in lazy circles from the sky, fascinated by what he described as tiny patches of lace. I didn’t understand at first and then I remembered that he had grown up on the streets of Bangkok and had never seen snow before.

He seemed to sink into a deep despair. Slouching around the house in my clothes, his long hair tied tightly in a bun. He was fading away and I didn’t know what to do to.

I did the only thing any self respecting gay man would do. I called my mother. I didn’t even have to try to persuade her to fly up to NY, she suggested it herself. The truth of the matter was she was intrigued. She had heard about Jaycee and wanted to meet the famous lady-boy that had snagged her baby.

Jaycee hung shyly behind me as we met her at the airport, watching her apprehensively through his massive blue eyes as she hugged me. He yelped with surprise when she turned her attention on him, hugging him warmly and kissing him on the cheek. She gripped his hand and pulled him along behind her to the car, squeezing his hand affectionately.

Later that night after Jaycee had gone to bed, mom came into the kitchen and hugged me from behind.

“What’s bothering you baby?” she asked.

I sighed and gave her a sad smile. “I wish you could have seen him in Bangkok. The night I met him he was radiant, so beautiful.”

“He still is beautiful Justin,” she said softly. “He’s a very good looking boy.”

“I’m losing him,” I told her. “He is so unhappy. He doesn’t say anything but I can tell.”

My mother, a very wise woman took my hands in hers. “Give him back what he has lost,” she suggested.

I frowned not understanding and she gave me her brightest sunniest smile. “Just leave Jaycee to me,” she said. “If he isn’t beaming from ear to ear tomorrow night I will excuse you both from Christmas dinner with the family in Nashville.”

I studied her face; she was up to something I could tell by the wicked gleam in her eyes. She kissed me and said goodnight then went to bed leaving me alone with my thoughts.

When eventually I did decide to join Jaycee I crept into our room and slid between the sheets next to him. I spooned up behind him, pulling his tiny frame into me. he murmered in his sleep and pulled away from me. This is how it had been since we arrived home. He wouldn’t let me touch him and it was killing me. When I awoke the next morning my

bed was empty. The only tell tale sign that Jaycee was ever there was the indent of his head on the pillow next to mine. I showered and went into the kitchen expecting to see him there, panicking when he wasn’t. I searched the house for him, blinking back the tears and the terrible thoughts that he had left me, it was then that I realised that my mother was also missing.

My mom’s words echoed in my ears. “Give him back what he has lost.”

Surely she wasn’t sending him back to Bangkok?

The day passed slowly and I tried to concentrate on my work. As a correspondent I had a few articles that were screaming for my attention but they all blurred into one. All I could think about was Jaycee.

It was a little under five when I heard the door open and then close. Bright sunny laughter filled the hallway and I said a silent prayer of thanks. Nothing prepared me for the sight that greeted me. Jaycee stood straighter as I walked out to greet them and he captured his bottom lip between his teeth in anticipation and nervousness.

My mouth dropped open and I stammered wanting to speak but lost for words.“Well say something honey,” my mother prompted.

I feasted my eyes over my beautiful katoey. He was wearing a soft baby-blue cashmere sweater that hug off his shoulders and a short denim skirt. On his feet he wore high heeled pumps that accentuated his ankles and made his legs look endless. I dragged my eyes up to his face and breathed out the breath that I had been holding.

He was beautiful.

His eyes had been made up with gold and brown and had been rimmed with smudged chocolate kohl. His hair had been highlighted with golden brown and had been styled so that it hung around his face in soft ringlets.

“Jaycee,” I breathed. I moved towards him in a trance, not even in Bangkok had he looked so lovely. I swung him around and crushed his cherry painted lips to mine.

“Is this what you want?” I asked him.

“Yes,” he replied shyly. “I wanted to tell you so many times but you wanted me to be a boy for you and I didn’t know how.”

I shook my head, shocked that he had even thought that. “That’s not true Jaycee. I never wanted to change you. I want this too.” I took him to the hall mirror and stood him in front of it with me behind him, holding his wrists. “Look baby. See that beautiful creature with me that is who I want. She is all I ever wanted. I want you.”

Tears filled his eyes threatening to spoil his makeup and I turned him to face me. “I want you Jaycee, not Jaycee the man but Jaycee the lady-boy, the katoey.” I kissed him and he melted into me, becoming pliable in my hands for the first time since we had returned to New York. My mother forgotten I dragged him towards my bedroom and to my bed.

We made love all evening and into the night. Some how the feminine clothes and the cosmetics did more than change Jaycee outwardly they changed him internally too. The vibrant, seductive being that had captured my attention to in Bangkok was back in my arms Since his shopping trip with my mom Jaycee has taken to wearing dresses full time. I have to say I get quite jealous at times when men turn their heads to look at him. I often wonder what their reaction would be if they realised Jaycee was in fact a man. In Bangkok katoeys are accepted and in all honesty any bar you go into they are there.

There is many a man that goes to bed with what he believes is a beautiful woman, not knowing that the beautiful woman was in fact born a man. Tai surgeons have become extremely good at performing sex change operations; they have had a lot of practice.

When Jaycee came to me and said he was considering breast implants I was surprised, he had seemed so against it when I first met him. Later I discovered that someone had mentioned his lack of a chest and now he felt less womanly. The panic I felt was unreal. If he had implants would he also want to go the whole hog so to speak and have his cock cut off too? I’m a gay man, I like cock.

I mentioned my fears to Jaycee and he laughed, “I like my cock,” he said smiling and pushed his hand down the front of his skirt feeling himself up as he licked his lips. He pulled out his hand and used mine to replace it. I groaned as he rubbed himself into me.

“I don’t want to be a woman Justin,” he purred. “But I want to be able to pass as one.”

I sighed and fell into his sweet kiss. “I could live with breasts if they made him happy,” I told him, but I was determined to make sure he wasn’t talked into balloons the size of Pam Anderson’s. All he needed was a nice little handful after all anything more than that is wasted isn’t it?

He beamed happily and clapped his hands before running into the bedroom and almost skipping back with a brochure for a clinic. He thrust it into my hands and bouncing on the balls of his feet waited eagerly for me to look. I took a deep breath and looked. The full colour brochure went into graphic detail of the procedure and was accompanied by gory Illustrations.

“Stay here,” he chirped and ran back into the bedroom. Intrigued I dragged a chair into the middle of the room and waited.

About ten minutes passed and then he came back dressed in a black silk full length wrap. At the hem I could see the soles of his stiletto pumps.

“I bought something for you,” he cooed and dropped the wrap to the floor. I think my moan must have been heard in all of Manhattan and my cock sprung to attention.

He sidled up to me rubbing his barely covered body against me. “Do you like?”

My voice had left me. Like … like was an understatement. I loved it. He was wearing a shocking pink bra and thong made of shiny satin. His cock strained against the tiny scrap of fabric and I could see a small damp patch on the satin

where his pre-cum had leaked out.

“I want to fit this bra,” he explained. “I want to make my dresses hang right.”

I asked him what had brought on this change in attitude after all in Bangkok he had been dead set against it.

He blushed and ducked his head so that he didn’t have to meet my eyes. I lifted his lovely chin and asked him again.

“In the store I overheard a girl say lovely dress shame about the flat-chested bitch wearing it.” The hurt in his voice was unmistakable.

.“Your mother told me to ignore them but I can’t. I didn’t choose to be like this and I can’t change. I don’t want to change. I like pretty things; the feel of silk on my skin, the way my face looks with lipstick, the way your tongue tastes in my mouth.”

He pressed up against me and nibbled on my chin and I slipped my hand down over the naked softness of his ass cheeks. He lifted his mouth to mine and I sunk into his pliant lips willingly, letting his tongue roll lazily against mine.

Sex with Jaycee is an experience. In all the relationships I have entered into or been involved in I can truthfully say no one has ever sucked me the way he did. Its being with a beautiful woman but with the added extras. He knows exactly how long to suck and how deep to swallow before pulling out and letting all the tension build before sucking and licking again. He is magnificent, a gay mans dream boy with an ass to die for. The first time he wrapped those long shapely legs around me and lifted his ass for me I really started to believe in Santa Claus. I slipped into his tight confines with no effort at all and barely a whimper from him and he worked his tiny hips so hard that not only was I sweating from the effort to hold him and keep going but so was he.

I watched him walk away towards the bedroom, his beautiful peach swaying as he walked. He paused at the bedroom door and batted his lashes at me. “Take them off me,” he purred.

He never had to ask me twice and I dragged him into my room so that

I could have my wicked way with him.

He had the implants.

As soon as the bruising subsided he squeezed his new bosom into the satin pink and paraded up and down in front of me grinning like a Cheshire cat and I laughed. He turned his ass to me and wiggled it boldly before turning back to face me and leaned forward displaying his cleavage, pursing his lips at me seductively and then began sucking on his finger.

I stopped laughing and grabbed him, pushing his hair away from his face. For the first time since we had met I realised that I loved him boobs and all. That was three years ago and even though we have had our ups and downs, massive highs and incredible lows I still love him as

much as I ever did.

His beauty hasn’t faded, I don’t think it ever will and although I know he still misses Bangkok he never shows it.

Our future is set.

Editorial by J Timberlake, New York Times.

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