My Night With A Goddess - My First Transexual Experience - Sex Stories

My Night With A Goddess - My First Transexual Experience

Every fiber in my body tells me I should just give up and go home. She’s not going to show up.

My freshly polished dark nails anxiously dance on the skin of my thighs, peeking out from under my skirt, as the grating sound of country music heavily resonates around this sleazy dive. The bar reeks of cheap beer and old cigarette butts and the crowd inside matches the uncomfortable scent. Yet, inexplicably, I find myself still waiting on this crumbling leather couch, conveniently positioned opposite the bar entrance - an ideal spot to see her graceful form make an entrance. However, it seems I'm going to leave let down for the tenth consecutive night.

Her angelic face is etched in my memory, as vivid as if I had just seen her moments ago.

A quick glance at my phone reminds me that it’s already past midnight. I let out a deep sigh, thinking about my early meeting tomorrow morning. Those safety tools and supplies won’t sell themselves.

I always thought ‘love at first sight’ only took place in fairy tales. Who knows, it probably still only does. I don’t even know what this feeling is, anyway. I question whether it can be classified as 'love'. There was undoubtedly a jolt of adoration when I first laid eyes on her in this place, a jolt that continues to resonate in my heart.

My hand involuntarily runs along my soft, bare arms thinking of her. Tonight, my entire outfit is dedicated to her. I’m wearing a tight black shirt, tall fishnet stockings to my knees, and a black ...

... leather skirt, which I realize is likely a bad idea. Animalistic gazes of men scattered throughout the bar hungrily watch me. In an attempt to evade their attention, I pretend I’m enthralled with the contents of my phone; squinting my eyes and making concerned or excited expressions. But I keep a close eye on the entrance in my peripheral vision. Praying for her arrival…as implausible as it may be.

The loud clinking and drunken chuckling cause my eyes to annoyingly drift upward and to my right. Hovering around the pool tables for the last hour and a half or so, are three men. They continue to gawk at me, those stupid smirks stitched on their faces like horrifying clowns. I am sick of guys like that. Of being treated like that. Are there no more nice, single people around? Is it too late for me to find someone, or is being single in my late twenties a sign that I’ll never find anyone?

No… this girl is different. We had a connection so incredible, it was unlike anything I have ever felt. I didn’t even know I could feel this way about someone. And I know she felt it too. Shehad to.

The three men by the pool table attempt to get my attention. Their mouths whistle and bark like feral dogs, and their hands make various obscene gestures toward me. A sudden realization occurs to me; I think I’m the only girl here.

Just ignore them, don’t give them the satisfaction of making eye contact,I think.Ugh,why am I here… again?

Am I really that desperate?

But I can’t get her ...