Hooking up with a feline trans girl! Andrea [SHORT STORY, 20 PICS]
The last days of summer didn’t announce themselves — they just crept in. The light hit different, longer shadows stretching across the pavement by late afternoon
The afternoon sun cut through the park trees like gold dust, catching in the last hints of summer. You were lounging on your usual bench, half-watching joggers go by, half-scrolling through your phone, when something more interesting caught your eye.
She had bright orange fur dappled with dark, natural spots. Her short red hair was a tousled, vibrant mess.
You watched her for a few seconds, then stood up and strolled over, smooth as you could manage. No plans. Just instinct.
“You trying to beat a boss on that thing, or texting your last three exes at once?”
She glanced up, brow raised. “Wow. Do you open with that on everyone, or am I special?”
You smirked. “Only when someone looks like they’re losing a fight with their screen.”
She blinked once, then huffed a small laugh—just enough to let you know you weren’t immediately being told to get lost. A good start.
“Andrea,” she said, slipping the phone into her hoodie pocket. “And you are?”
“Bench philosopher. Wandering genius. Occasional sandwich connoisseur.”
She snorted. “Cocky much?”
“Confident,” you corrected. “It only looks like cocky from the outside.”
She shook her head, amused despite herself. “Alright, confident sandwich guy. What do you want?”
“Conversation,” you said, sitting next to her like it was the most natural thing in the world. “You looked interesting. And mildly annoyed. Figured that’s a rare combo worth investigating.”
She rolled her eyes, but her tail curled around her ankle instead of flicking you off—a good sign.
The banter shifted into something easier, smoother. You kept up the confidence, sure, but didn’t push. Just asked questions, told a few bold stories, and watched her warm up.
She told you about her love of old underground punk music, her half-broken sketchpad full of tattoo ideas, and how she’d been traveling light for a while—"between places," she said. You didn’t pry. Just nodded, letting her control the pace.
“You got anywhere to go tonight?” you asked, somewhere between casual and serious.
She looked at you sidelong. “Not sure yet. Depends on the vibe.”
You leaned back, arms on the bench. “Well, I’ve got a couch, tea, a halfway-decent playlist, and a cat who judges everyone equally. You’re welcome to come chill. If nothing else, you can charge your phone and raid my snack stash.”
Her brow lifted. “You always invite strangers home?”
You grinned. “Only the ones who make fun of my opening lines and still stick around.”
She paused. Then smiled. “Alright. But if your tea is garbage, I’m leaving.”
“Fair deal.”
---
At your apartment, she dropped the duffel by the door and gave the place a quick once-over.
“Not bad,” she said. “You clean up for guests?”
“Every third Wednesday. Today’s your lucky day.”
She smiled, then settled onto your couch like she’d done it a dozen times before. You handed her a mug of tea (not garbage, thankfully), and the two of you kept the conversation going.
Then she glanced away, suddenly quieter. “Hey, so… just a heads-up. I’m trans. I don’t really do the whole secret thing. If that’s gonna be a problem, better to say now.”
You blinked. “Wait—seriously?”
She tensed a little. “Yeah.”
You leaned back, eyebrows raised. “Huh. Did not see that coming.”
Her tail flicked once, sharp. “Is that… bad?”
You shook your head, fast. “No, not bad. Just—damn, you’re good at being hot. Like, top-tier deception level.”
She stared at you for a second, like she wasn’t sure if she should roll her eyes or laugh. “So… this isn’t a deal-breaker?”
That earned a suspicious squint. “Are you trying to compliment me or dig your own grave?”
“Definitely a compliment,” you said, smirking.
Her gaze lingered, then softened. “Alright. You’re not so bad, confident sandwich guy.”
You raised your mug in a lazy salute. “I’ll take it.”
“Hey, I appreciate you telling me,” you added. “I might ask dumb questions later, just saying now. But I’m not freaked out. Just surprised. And curious.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Curious in a creepy way or a cool way?”
You grinned. “Cool, hopefully.”
That made her laugh — a real one, the kind that loosened up everything. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Yeah,” you said, leaning back with a satisfied grin. "But apparently I’m also your favorite kind of ridiculous.”
Andrea tilted her head, smiling with a mix of amusement and something else. “Okay then. So what now?”
You leaned back, letting the moment breathe. “We’ve got snacks, music, a stack of bad movies, and each other. What sounds fun?”
She shrugged, grinning wide, then leaned in and whispered “Let me show you something else”