Preteen Model

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Related article: Date: Tue, 15 Feb 2005 14:32:40 +0000From: Caroline Hunter Subject: TG Story: Drag in Hamburg Part 3This story may be reposted/archived to FREE adult access provided my nameand this notice are included in the message text. This story is fictionaland any resemblance to actual persons or events is strictly unintended.Copyright 2005 Caroline Hunter. All Rights Reserved.I sat on the narrow bar in the bus shelter and looked through the glassacross the road to the entrance to the barracks.I knew that Olivier wasworking there but I'd been waiting off and on for several afternoons and hehadn't come out. I'd been in Berlin for three weeks now and was sure thatOlivier was here - he knew very well from what I had told him before he leftthat morning that our show was on its way to Berlin, where he was about tobe posted, and that we were playing in the Flohmarkt cafe every evening. Buthe hadn't shown up and there was only a few days to go before the Berlin runended, the girls took a holiday and my turn with the group came to its end -Beate had now recovered from her leg break and would be back in the showwhen they went back on tour in several weeks time.Had he forgotten about me? Possible, but I doubted it, he had been sointense and enthralled when we were together. No, something must havehappened to keep him away, I wanted to catch him to ask him about it andwhether I could help. Ever since we had spent that magic night together Ihad been walking on air, feeling so confident and happy in my new life as awoman. He had touched a part of me I didn't know existed but didn't want tolose ever again. I knew in my heart of hearts that my destiny was to becomea woman and to love a man who loved me.But as the weeks went by I started to have doubts. The girls told me toforget him - men are no good for us, they said, we only complicate theirlives, they always get guilty and go back to their wives or girlfriends.Heidi had conforted me one night in bed when i was weeping and we had endedup kissing and cuddling like lesbians - but the thoughts of Olivier had notgone away. I worked hard during rehearsal and during the show itself to keepup my standards and to forget about him and was praised by Renate, whopromised to help me find work after I left her group if I wanted to stay inthe drag business. I was also getting increasing attention from the audience- a rich glamorous German woman had come to the show for the past few nightsand had asked me each night to her table - last night she had asked me if Iwanted to come to her flat and I had resisted but said I would give her myanswer tonight.Suddenly I caught a glimpse of Olivier - he had left the barracks in histrack suit and was running along the road. I left the bus shelter and ranafter him, staying on my side of the road. He hadn't spotted me as far as Icould see, I thought I would Preteen Model let him run for a bit to get away from thebarracks before shouting after him. Luckily I was wearing my jeans andtrainers, only my handbag slowed me down, I kept him in sight even though hewas drawing away from me. We ran for a couple of blocks, then Oliviercrossed the road, here was my chance, I shouted after him "Olivier, c'estmoi, attends!" He looked round, smiled briefly but then as I ran up to himhis attitude changed and he looked crestfallen, angry even."Olivier mon cheri, qu'est-ce que tu as? Why the sour face? Aren't you happyto see me?" He turned, looked away, looked back at me and said "Caro, whyare you here, please go away." "I can't", I said, I love you, I want to bewith you." "Non, c'est pas Preteen Model possible, laisse moi tranquile." I went to touchhim but he pushed me away, I pushed back, he slapped me hard on the cheekand ran away. I crumpled to the pavement and started to cry..."Fraulein, was ist los, kann ich dir helfen" said a passer by, a kindlooking German lady. "Forget these French soldiers, they are all the same"she said, "they have no respect for us" She helped me to stand up, took meinto a nearby cafe and waited while I freshed myself up in the Ladiestoilet. She then helped me sit down and asked the barman to serve me acoffee and schnapps, then left after wishing me a good recovery.I sat and tried to come to terms with what had happened. Was that nighttogether just a passing phase, I thought he had said it was the best thingthat had happened to him? Did he not know that we were made for each other?I was feeling desparate when a guy at the bar came over to me and said inbad french accentuated German "You know, Olivier has had a bad scare, itseems that he fell for a travesti when he was In Baden Baden and is up on acharge. His wife has heard about it and is giving him hell. Leave him aloneM'mselle, you'll only regret it...."That night passed in a blur. I tried to blot Preteen Model out memories of what hadhappened in the afternoon by concetrating all my efforts on my performance.I took the leading role now in the Charles Aznavour show and had tearsfalling down my cheeks by the end, to rapturous applause from the audience.Brigitte, the German lady, smiled rapturously at me after the show, bought abottle of champagne for us to share and gave me a gift of a beautiful goldnecklace and matching earrings. By the time she asked Preteen Model me to go home with herI was tipsy and desparate for anything that would help me forget what hadhappended that afternoon.Brigitte was a kind and tender lover. She knew I was upset but took care totreat me well and to take her time. The early part of the night we lay ineach others arms, her stroking me from tip to toe. I must have fallenasleep, when I woke up Preteen Model Brigitte was straddling me and was rising and fallinggently on my erect cock. She kept going in a slow entrancing rockingmovement for what seemed like hours before we reached orgasm together in atremendous burst of joy. When we awoke in the morning she brought me juiceand coffee and said I could sleep all morning, she would come back Preteen Model to see meafter going to work in the morning and we would go shopping together for anew long dress for me in KaDeWe in the afternoon. The following night was myrest night and we would go out together to the opera in our ball gowns andjewelery....25 years on I look back on that summer in Germany and wonder what might havebeen. Where is Olivier now? and Brigitte? and Renate, Heidi and the girls,what are they doing? I then look at myself in the toilet mirror as I applymy lipstick and see a mature, but still pretty, woman, still full of thedreams and desires that transfixed me that summer. I smile at my reflection,sigh quietly to myself and get ready to face my students again....
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