Crossdresser Story Part 3 The First Kiss as Lea
I knew the moment I woke up that something was going to happen today.
Not because I can see the future. I wish. Then I could have saved myself some embarrassing dating app conversations, bad outfit choices, and three completely unnecessary mirror meltdowns. But today, there was just something in the air. A quiet, tingling feeling, as if the day already knew it wanted to be important.
Tom wrote last night:
„Part 3? I have an idea. Some exercise first, then coffee. I think that suits you.“
Movement.
Naturally, that immediately made me curious. Because sports are my area. I know my way around there. I feel safe there. When I run, when my body works, when my breath finds a rhythm, then I'm not so much in my head. And that's exactly why his idea was somehow perfect.
He suggested a walk around the lake. Not too secluded, not too crowded, with a small cafe at the end of the route. I thought it was sweet that he had apparently really listened. That he hadn't just suggested some standard date, but something that suited me. Suited Leon. Suited Lea. Suited both of us.
And that's exactly what made me nervous.
Because the more Tom saw me, the less I could hide behind the excuse that it was all just a little experiment.
I believe you shouldn't feel too much after only two dates. That must be written somewhere in a secret dating rulebook that normal people know and that I apparently never received. But my heart isn't very good with bureaucracy. It just does what it wants. And right now, it quite clearly wanted Tom.
After breakfast, I went for a run. Just five kilometers, easy, not too hard. I wanted to clear my head, but I didn't want to look like I'd lost a half-marathon of feelings before the date. The run felt good. Cold air, quiet streets, music in my ears. Still, Tom was there the whole time. Not next to me, but in my thoughts.
His hand.
His „Good night, Lea“.
His sentence: „I'm asking again.“
I've read these four words at least twenty times since yesterday. Maybe thirty times. Completely undignified. But I'm admitting it here because you're my diary and you already know me at all my emotional low points anyway.
After showering, I stood before my wardrobe again. This time, I didn't want to look too elegant. A walk by the lake in a dress would have been possible, but I wanted to wear something sportier that still felt like "me." I decided on black, figure-hugging leggings that looked more like streetwear than gym wear, paired with a longer, cream-colored hoodie that draped softly and made my silhouette more gentle. Over that, a short black jacket. White sneakers, of course. Without them, I wouldn't have been emotionally ready for action.
For makeup, I kept it fresh and subtle. A bit of concealer, mascara, a touch of blush, tinted lip balm. I tied my hair back loosely, but let a few strands fall around my face. In the mirror, I looked sporty yet soft. Not overtly feminine, not hiddenly masculine. More like Lea had decided today to be her own version of casual.
And for the first time, I didn't think: Can I go out like this?
But Yes, that's how I'm going out.
That might sound like a small difference.
For me, it was an entire continent.
Tom was waiting at the entrance to the Seaway. He was wearing a dark jacket, jeans, and sneakers, and when he saw me, he immediately smiled, as if he had been really looking forward to seeing me. Not politely. Not nicely. But genuinely.
„Hey, Lea,“ he said.
I don't think I'll ever get used to how beautiful my name sounds coming from his mouth.
„Hey,“ I said. „I'm ready for your athletic date test.“
He looked down at me, again only briefly, but with that warm gaze that had become dangerously familiar to me.
„You look like you're going to hang me.“
„Maybe I will.“
„Then I must be charming enough for you to wait.“
I grinned. „Let's see.“
We set off, and this time it was easier from the start. No stiff beginning, no strenuous searching for topics. We weren't yet as familiar as people who have known each other forever, but we weren't complete strangers anymore either. It was that beautiful in-between state where every conversation is still new, but you don't have to start from scratch anymore.
The lake lay still. The water was dark blue, the sky light gray, and a few couples, elderly people, joggers, people with dogs were walking on the path. Of course, I still noticed that I was visible. As Lea. Next to Tom. But the fear was no longer so loud. It was still there, somewhere in the background, like a radio in another room.
Tom told me about his week. I told him about my workout, about a guy at the gym who was way too motivated and made noises while bench-pressing like he was fighting a dragon. Tom laughed so hard he stopped in his tracks for a moment.
„You're much funnier when you're not trying to seem controlled,“ he said.
I looked at him, playing shocked. „I always seem controlled.“
„Lea.“
„What?“
„You almost tripped over your own shoelaces just now because you were dramatically mimicking a dumbbell motion.“
I looked down. My shoelace was indeed open.
„That was performance.“
„Very convincing.“
I bent down to tie it. As I did, I noticed Tom stop next to me instead of just walking on. A small thing. But I registered it. He waited. He always waited. For my steps, my answers, my boundaries. Maybe that's one of the reasons I soften so slowly around him.
As we continued, our hands brushed again briefly. This time, I didn't wait as long. I took his hand.
Just because.
I, Lea, took a man's hand on a public path by the lake.
I'm writing this now as if it were a news report, but internally it was actually a sensation.
Tom looked over at me and smiled.
„Brave today,“ he said softly.
„I had carbohydrates for breakfast.“
„Ah, I see.“
„Very important.“
His fingers gently closed around mine.
We walked in silence for a while. Not because we had nothing to say. But because nothing was needed at that moment. The lake, the cool air, his hand, my hand. The world didn't need to offer anything more for a few minutes.
Eventually, we sat on a bench overlooking the water. A few ducks swam by, as if they had their schedules more under control than I did. Tom didn't let go of my hand. Neither did I.
„How are you doing right now?“ he asked.
I looked at the lake. „Good. Nervous. But good.“
„Because of me?“
„A little.“
„Should I behave less attractively?“
I laughed. „That would be helpful, yes.“
„Difficult. I'm doing my best.“
I nudged him lightly with my shoulder. „Idiot.“
„But a pleasant one?“
I pretended to think. „So far, yes.“
That smile again.
Then he became a bit more serious. „I wanted to ask you something else. It's nothing serious.“
My body tensed automatically. „Okay.“
„Do you actually want me to call you just Lea? Or Leon too? I don't want to do anything wrong.“
This question struck me. Not like a blow. More like a hand on a spot that often goes unnoticed.
I thought for a long time.
„When I'm like this, then Lea,“ I said. „It feels right. But Leon isn't wrong. I'm not someone else. It's more... hard to explain.“
„Try it.“
I exhaled. „Leon is the part of me that I learned to get through everyday life with. The part that does, functions, seems strong. Lea is the part that for a long time was only allowed to breathe in secret. I don't want to trade one for the other. I just don't want to pretend anymore that Lea doesn't exist.“
Tom nodded slowly.
„I understand,“ he said.
„Really?“
„Maybe not completely. But enough to take it seriously.“
I looked at him. That's exactly why I liked him. He didn't pretend to understand everything immediately. He didn't make grand speeches. He just stayed honest.
„Thank you,“ I said.
„Gladly.“
Then we looked back at the water. A light wind picked up and blew a strand of hair into my face. I went to brush it away, but Tom was faster. He raised his hand, paused briefly, as if wordlessly asking if it was okay, and when I didn't pull back, he gently brushed it aside for me.
His fingers brushed my cheek very briefly.
But it was enough.
My heart immediately became unreasonable.
„Lea,“ he said softly.
I looked at him.
There was that moment. The same as yesterday, but this time longer. Clearer. No street full of people, no bus about to arrive, no excuse. Just a bench by the lake, his hand in mine, and that question, not yet spoken.
„I'll ask again,“ he said.
My breath caught for a moment.
„May I kiss you?“
This time I didn't want to wait.
This time there was no „not yet“.
This time, there was only this warm, fluttering, honest yes within me.
„Yes,“ I said.
Tom approached slowly. Very slowly. Almost unfairly slowly. I could have laughed because those few centimeters felt like a whole journey. But then he was there.
His lips touched mine.
Gentle.
Careful.
And yet it was as if something was opening up inside me.
Der Kuss war nicht lang. Nicht wild. Nicht filmisch perfekt. Ich glaube, unsere Nasen waren kurz im Weg, und ich war bestimmt viel zu angespannt. Aber es war echt. So echt, dass ich danach nicht wusste, wohin ich schauen sollte.
Tom blieb nah, aber nicht zu nah.
„Okay?“, fragte er leise.
Ich nickte. „Mehr als okay.“
Er lächelte. „Gut.“
Ich musste lachen, weil ich sonst vielleicht geweint hätte. Nicht traurig, sondern weil mein Körper manchmal bei zu viel Gefühl einfach irgendeinen Ausgang sucht.
„Ich bin gerade sehr professionell“, sagte ich.
„Extrem.“
„Total souverän.“
„Fast schon einschüchternd.“
„Gut.“
Dann küsste er mich nochmal.
Diesmal war ich weniger überrascht. Ich legte meine Hand leicht an seinen Arm, spürte den Stoff seiner Jacke unter meinen Fingern und ließ mich ein kleines bisschen mehr in den Moment fallen. Nicht komplett. Dafür war ich zu nervös. Aber genug.
Als wir uns lösten, schwamm eine Ente genau vor uns vorbei und quakte.
Tom sah zur Ente. Dann zu mir.
„Kritik vom Publikum“, sagte er.
Ich brach komplett in Lachen aus.
Und genau dadurch wurde alles leichter. Der erste Kuss als Lea war passiert. Nicht in einer perfekten romantischen Kulisse ohne Fehler, sondern mit Wind, offener Nervosität und einer urteilenden Ente. Ehrlich gesagt passt das ziemlich gut zu mir.
Später gingen wir weiter zum Café am See. Ich war danach gleichzeitig ruhiger und völlig durcheinander. Meine Lippen fühlten sich an, als hätten sie ein Geheimnis. Ich fragte mich, ob man mir ansehen konnte, dass ich gerade geküsst worden war. Wahrscheinlich nicht. Aber ich fühlte mich, als müsste irgendwo ein kleines Warnschild über meinem Kopf blinken.
Im Café bestellten wir Kaffee und ein Stück Kuchen zum Teilen. Tom bestand darauf, dass man nach einem See-Spaziergang Kuchen essen müsse, weil das sonst sportlich unausgewogen sei. Ich widersprach nicht. Ich bin zwar diszipliniert, aber nicht lebensfeindlich.
Wir saßen am Fenster. Seine Hand lag auf dem Tisch, meine daneben. Erst berührten sich nur unsere Fingerspitzen. Dann schob ich meine Hand unter seine. Diesmal ohne großes Drama. Fast selbstverständlich.
„Du bist heute anders“, sagte Tom.
„Schlimm?“
„Nein. Offener.“
Ich sah in meinen Kaffee. „Vielleicht, weil du mich nicht drängst.“
Er sagte nichts sofort. Dann: „Ich will dich nicht irgendwohin ziehen, wo du nicht selbst hinwillst.“
Ich glaube, genau da wurde mir klar, dass ich auf Dates bisher oft Angst vor dem Tempo anderer Männer hatte. Nicht nur körperlich. Auch emotional. Manche wollten sofort eine Rolle. Sofort ein Geheimnis. Sofort Nähe, aber keine Verantwortung. Tom war anders. Er war nicht perfekt, das will ich gar nicht behaupten. Aber er wirkte wie jemand, der nicht nur Lea aufregend fand, sondern mich dahinter auch wirklich kennenlernen wollte.
Und das machte ihn gefährlich.
Auf die gute Art.
Nach dem Kaffee gingen wir langsam zurück Richtung Haltestelle. Der Abend war inzwischen dunkel geworden, und die Lichter spiegelten sich wieder auf dem Wasser. Wir gingen nicht die ganze Zeit Hand in Hand, aber immer wieder. Manchmal ließ ich los, um meine Tasche zu richten. Manchmal nahm er meine Hand wieder. Manchmal ich seine.
Es war schön, dass es nicht immer eine große Entscheidung sein musste.
Kurz vor der Haltestelle blieb ich stehen.
„Tom?“
„Ja?“
Ich wusste selbst nicht genau, was ich sagen wollte. Nur, dass etwas rausmusste.
„Danke, dass du gefragt hast.“
Er verstand sofort.
„Beim Kuss?“
Ich nickte.
„Of course.“
„Für dich vielleicht natürlich. Für mich nicht immer.“
Sein Blick wurde weich. „Dann frage ich weiter.“
Mein Herz machte wieder dieses Ding. Dieses dumme, schöne, gefährliche Ding.
„Gut“, sagte ich.
Der Bus kam diesmal nicht sofort. Ausnahmsweise hatte das Universum etwas Taktgefühl. Wir standen unter der kleinen Überdachung, nebeneinander, Schultern fast berührend. Es war kühl, aber mir war warm.
„Teil 3 war gut?“, fragte er.
„Teil 3 war sehr gut.“
„Dann gibt es Teil 4?“
Ich lächelte. „Wenn die Ente zustimmt.“
„Ich schreibe ihr.“
„Sehr seriös.“
„Ich bin ein Mann mit Kontakten.“
Ich lachte und lehnte für einen kurzen Moment meinen Kopf an seine Schulter. Nur kurz. Aber ich tat es. Und er blieb einfach still stehen, als hätte er verstanden, dass dieser kleine Moment für mich größer war als jede große Geste.
Als mein Bus kam, küsste er mich nicht nochmal. Er drückte nur meine Hand und sagte: „Gute Nacht, Lea.“
Ich stieg ein, setzte mich ans Fenster und sah ihn draußen stehen. Diesmal winkte ich. Nicht verlegen, nicht heimlich. Einfach so.
Zu Hause stand ich lange vor dem Spiegel.
Meine Haare waren vom Wind zerzaust. Mein Make-up hatte den Tag erstaunlich überlebt. Meine Lippen glänzten noch ein bisschen. Ich sah sportlich aus, weich, müde, glücklich und irgendwie neu.
Ich dachte an den Kuss.
An die Bank.
An seine Frage.
An mein Ja.
Then I wrote Tom:
„Bin gut zu Hause. Und ja: Teil 3 bekommt eine sehr gute Bewertung.“
Seine Antwort kam schnell:
„Freut mich. Ich gebe der Ente trotzdem Trinkgeld.“
Ich lachte laut. Allein in meinem Zimmer, noch als Lea, mit klopfendem Herzen.
Vielleicht ist das gerade der schönste Teil an allem: dass es nicht nur aufregend ist. Sondern auch leicht. Dass ich mit Tom nicht nur nervös bin, sondern auch lachen kann. Dass Dating nicht immer bedeuten muss, mich zu beweisen. Vielleicht darf es auch bedeuten, mich langsam zu zeigen.
Heute wurde ich zum ersten Mal als Lea geküsst.
Nicht heimlich in einer Fantasie.
Nicht in einem Chat.
Nicht als Gedanke, den ich sofort wieder wegschiebe.
Sondern wirklich.
Auf einer Bank am See.
Von einem Mann, der vorher gefragt hat.
Good night, dear diary.
Heute habe ich gelernt, dass ein Kuss nicht laut sein muss, um alles zu verändern.
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