The Purple Candle Tranny
Detective Lansing remembered the first time he ever saw her because he
almost spit up his coffee.
She was a tall, leggy redhead that you might even describe as
"amazon". She had shoulder length thin hair and beautiful green eyes.
Lansing had noticed her drinking coffee at this little diner at 3 A.M.
so many times that he now made it a regular habit to pull over here.
He always pretended like he needed some coffee, but he really came to
feed his hungry eyes.
Irene, the waitress at the diner, was a beautiful pre-op transsexual
brunette. Lansing wasn't usually hip to that sort of thing, but in her
case he would make an exception. She was damn gorgeous by any standard
and had a smile that could melt a weary heart.
One Thursday evening/Friday morning, Lansing finally decided to find
out who the mysterious redhead was. He called over the transexual
waitress and asked her, "Irene, who is that lady over there?".
"I don't know, but she does come in here a lot. Why do you ask?"
He didn't know how to answer. He could be a daring detective, but was
a little shy when it came to dealing with the fairer sex. He was even
a little nervous when he first befriended Irene because she was so
cute.
Irene could not have been a day over twenty. She had flawless skin, a
petite figure, and sparkling brown eyes. She always wore little
girlish skirts with open toe sandals. And she did have the cutest feet
of any diner waitress he had ever seen.
Deciding that he must find out the mysterious woman's identity on his
own, Lansing decided to make his move. He walked over to the counter
where the tall redhead was sitting. She was slowly inhaling a long
menthol cigarette and dangling her amazing white legs. She immediately
turned and faced him. He removed his black hat and sat it on the
counter.
"I couldn't help but notice you," he said. "You really come here a
lot, don't you?"
"I guess I do," she said, "I've never really thought about it. There's
just so many lonely, boring nights. So many nights with nothing to do
and so many hours going by so slow. It's hard to explain, but I just
have to go out sometimes."
She hadn't bothered to introduce herself, so the detective thought he
would break the ice. "I'm Detective Lansing," he said. "What's your
name?"
"I'm Melody," she said. He cringed a little and then caught himself
every time she would dangle her leg. "Are you a police officer?"
"Yes, I'm a detective with the homicide unit. I usually work late. I'm
not uniformed. What kind of work do you do, Melody?"
"I'm an entertainer. An exotic entertainer. I dance and whatever. It's
actually a lot of fun. It was what I always wanted to do anyway, but
it took me a few years to figure that out."
She took a long slow drag from her cigarette. Lansing felt a warm
electricity over his body and quickly kept the conversation going.
"I never really wanted to be a detective. I guess you could just say
that I fell into it."
"Have you ever been down to Tiller's Park by the lake?," she asked.
"It's really beautiful at night. Really, well, romantic. A lot of high
school kids hang out there. The park is really closed, but you can
walk by the lake and look at the moon. It's really peaceful this time
of night."
Lansing knew where the park was, but had never been there after dark.
He just never considered these type of things. He was the kind of guy
who just went to work, did a good job, and then went home and watched
t.v.
"Maybe I could take you there sometime. Maybe tonight," she offered.
As she said this, she put out her cigarette in a clear glass ashtray
on the counter and looked him directly in the eye. The question was
almost a pointless one, but he pretended to consider her invitation.
"Sure, why not?", he finally said.
Twenty minutes later, his aging black Pontiac pulled into the parking
lot of the park. At the entrance to the park, there was a clearly
posted sign: "PARK HOURS 8AM-SUNDOWN". It was well past sundown.
As the two walked along the gravel beside the lake, Lansing looked
down at Melody's beautiful purple high heels. They really showcased
the beautiful curves of her feet, which his eyes followed upward to
her lavender miniskirt.
"You really are beautiful... you know that, don't you? I bet you're a
lovely dancer."
Melody blushed.
"Isn't it peaceful out here?," she whispered, "Most of the kids are
gone by now and the lake is still." She reached for his hand and held
it softly.
"Can I kiss you?," he asked.
She nodded and he leaned toward her. She was wearing some exotic
fragrance that reminded him of incense or a tropical island. He
wrapped his arms around her and noticed that the closer he got, the
more her perfume blended with her own natural odor and the smell of
her hair. Her hair smelled clean but was mixed with a slight remnant
of cigarette smoke. Finally, his lips met hers.
Her lips were long and thin and they slowly opened, pushing her tongue
into his mouth. When he felt this, a jolt of electricity shot threw
his entire body to the point where he was almost breathless. He slowly
began to slide his hand down her back and stroke her cute round
bottom. She moaned in pleasure.
As they kissed, she slowly slid her hand down his pants until she
reached his throbbing erection and slowly began to rub it. At this
point, Lansing thought he would surely explode. Suddenly, in the
distance, they heard a voice.
"Can I help you folks with anything?", a deep voice bellowed as a
bright glaring light blinded their faces.
Melody and Lansing looked up and saw a portly looking, gray-headed
police officer staring at them from a few feet away.
"The park is closed," he said. "Closes at sunset."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Lansing said quickly, "We didn't know. We were just
going for a walk."
The officer nodded.
"Well, anyway, have a good night," Lansing said as he grabbed Melody
by the hand, pulling her toward the parking lot.
"That WAS beautiful," he said when they were safely inside the car.
"How often do you go there?"
"Every now and then. Not as much as I used to. I only go there with
someone else. It's probably too dangerous to go alone at night."
"Yeah, I agree," said Lansing. He noticed that he still was sporting a
half-erection even after all the commotion.
Melody reached into the back seat toward her purse. As she did, she
also brought a small square package into the front seat. It was
wrapped in brown mailing paper and secured with a piece of tan yarn.
She stared at it blankly for a minute.
"What's that?", asked Lansing. Then he quickly added, "If you don't
mind me asking..".
"I don't know. That's the weirdest thing. I found it at my doorstep
this afternoon when I went to check the mail at my apartment. It
didn't have any address, any note, or anything. I thought I'd open it
at the diner while I drank my coffee. I didn't know if it was meant
for my next door neighbor or if it was from a secret admirer."
"A girl like you must have lots of secret admirers," Lansing said.
"I had a good time tonight." Melody paused and smiled at him. "I hope
we can do it again sometime. You know, take a walk by the lake or just
meet for coffee or whatever."
"That would be nice. Maybe discuss literature or something. Do you
read much?". Lansing stopped the flow of his thought instantly when he
noticed Melody slowly lifting up her miniskirt and reaching her hand
down between her legs.
Slowly, she lifted herself up in the seat as she slid off her white
cotton panties. Although his eyes strained between the moonlight, the
streetlights, and the passing shadows, he caught a quick glimpse of
her beautiful crotch as she pulled the panties down her long legs and
then over her shoes.
"I want you to have this... as a present," she said and handed him the
white panties. Without thinking, he instantly held them to his nose
and she laughed. The wonderful musky odor of her sex filled his
nostrils.
Suddenly, there was a loud thud as the Pontiac hit something in the
road. Both the passengers were slung forward and the impact was so
strong that Lansing barely even needed to slam on the brakes.
"We hit something," Melody screamed.
"Are you ok?", Lansing asked.
"Yes, I'm fine.. did we hit a deer or something?"
"I don't know. Are you sure you're ok? Stay in the car."
Lansing slowly opened the door to the Pontiac and stepped out of the
car on to the dark road. He walked forward and you could hear the
bottom of his dark wingtip shoes moving step-by-step across the
pavement. He walked until he was standing in front of the headlights,
then he paused and looked down. Then he walked back to the car, got
inside and shut the door.
"Is it a deer? Did we hit a deer?", Melody asked.
"No, it's not a deer. It's a dead body."
Keys: Romance M/F TS Fetish
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