Short story: My Awakening

I knew I was different, special, unique, at least in the small community I grew up in. No matter how hard I tried, I never quite fit in. Had I grown up in a larger, metropolitan city, I might have found my tribe, but no. I grew up in a small rural community in West Texas. The Bible Belt.

I’m not saying I had a rough childhood. I didn’t, but it wasn’t easy either. It was the early 90’s, and no one spoke about being gay, except in a derogatory manner. No one talked about trans people either, except to make fun of them. I was one of those making fun of those freaks, those fags, even though I knew in my heart I was one of them.

I wanted to fit in.

It wasn’t until I left for college that I discovered who I was. I had lost my virginity the previous summer, leading up to my Senior year, with Darcy, who could be considered the town slut. She was an easy lay, even for someone like me. She was older, in her twenties, and she liked to sleep around. Everyone knew it, so I decided to try.

Darcy was kind of trashy, but still attractive. Even now in her mid-forties, she’s still beautiful, and still sleeping around. We still fool around from time to time, even if I’m not the same boy I was back then. She never judged me. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t confident, or that I wasn’t generously endowed. “A fuck’s a fuck,” she would tell me. She let me believe I was a good lay. That improved my self-esteem.

I fooled around around a bit that year with a couple of other girls, but they didn’t have Darcy’s special touch. I moved on from them quickly, managing to hook up with Darcy whenever she’d let me, which was fairly often. If I could have married anyone, it would have been her!

But in college I was able to spread my wings, so to speak. I experimented a lot. One woman, a couple of women, sometimes with woman and her boyfriend. It didn’t occur to me until late my Freshman year that I might want to try something else.

Something else happened to be another Freshman in my dorm. His name was Blake, and he was not the gay stereotype we joked about back home. He was a running back on the football team, a popular jock on campus. He seemed to have several women hanging on his arm. He had a special charm with the ladies, and he took advantage of that, but there was more to Blake than a typical ladies man.

I didn’t know much about him, and I never gave him much thought. I was scrawny and not at all popular. I gained a little weight that first year in college, but I was still small, and compared to the rest of the guys in my dorm, relatively hairless.

One night, well after midnight, I decided to shower. It was a Friday night, and I had nothing to do on Saturday. Most everyone was out partying, except for me, and I would discover, Blake.

I walked into the bathroom and I saw Blake drying off. He was drying his face and I saw his penis. It was huge, at least compared to mine. He was definitely a shower, while I was a grower. Still, he was bigger than me, and I couldn’t stop staring. That was the first time I was conscious of being aroused by another man.

He caught me looking while I was still gazing at his physique.

“Like what you see?” He flirted.

“Um..what? Oh no,” I relied, embarrassed at being caught. “I didn’t mean to, I mean I’m not…” I stammered nervously, terrified that he would beat me up.

“Relax,” he winked. “It’s okay. I’m not gonna give you a hard time, Sam.”

“You know who I am?” I asked, shocked that he could possibly know my name.

“Of course,” he laughed. “I’ve noticed you hanging around. It’s cool. If you want, after you shower, you can come to my room. I snuck in a few beers. You can have one if you want. We can hang and watch a movie.”

“Yeah,” I said with relief. “Sure, I’d like that.”

“Great!” He wrapped his towel around his waist and I stared as he walked away. I felt confused with what I was feeling, but ignored it and jumped into the shower. I quickly bathed and hurried to my room to get dressed before going to his room. I was shaking as I knocked, praying that he wasn’t messing with me. I heard him tell me to come in, and I did.

He was on the bed, still in his towel. “I didn’t realize you would get dressed up. I feel so underdressed. Maybe I should put something on.”

“No,” I replied quickly. “You don’t have to.”

“What?” He looked at me with a smirk. “You expect me to be virtually naked while you stay there clothed?”

“I guess I could get naked as well,” I answered, shocked at hearing myself utter those words.

“I’m game,” he winked. He stood up, letting his towel fall to the ground. I felt excited, more so than I have ever felt before. I had been with several women, but I never felt that level of anticipation. I got undressed, feeling ashamed of my physique, but he smiled and walked to me and touched my arm. It was electric.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want,” he said seriously.

“But I want to,” I replied.

“Me too,” he nodded. “Just promise me you won’t tell anyone I’m bi, okay? I have a reputation to uphold.”

“I – I understand,” I agreed.

Blake led me to his bed and we both sat there for a few minutes doing nothing. Finally I blurted out, “have you ever been with another guy?”

“Once,” he admitted. “A few years back at football camp. Sucked one of the coach’s dicks. Shouldn’t have, but he gave me the opportunity and I wanted to try it, so I did. You?”

“No,” I shook my head. “Never.”

“And you still want to try?”

“Yeah,” I said, staring at his growing erection. “More than anything!”

He kissed me and he gently laid me down before going down on me. The sensation was exquisite. A few minutes later I had the chance to go down on him and I never knew a hard dick could feel that soft. We took turns on one another until we both came. Then we laid there for an hour, me in his arms. It wasn’t exactly romantic, but it was the best sexual experience of my life.

It wasn’t long before I came to terms with my own sexuality. Shortly after, I began to experiment with dressing as a woman, and he took to me even more. We dated quietly for a few years. We would go out with me dressed as Sabrina, the name I would eventually take once I decided to transition and have surgery.

I could write a book on the love we shared, but eventually he broke up with me, deciding that he needed to maintain his macho reputation if he wanted to go pro. By then, I was ready to venture out in the open, and I started to sleep around a bit, mostly with men, but occasionally with women.

It caused a bit of a scandal back home when everyone found out about me, but by then I didn’t care. I was disowned by my family for almost six years, until my dad had a heart attack and decided to reconcile with me. My mom took a little longer, but she too accepted me as the daughter she had yearned for.

Once I hit thirty, I finally settled down with a woman, a trans woman like me. She too had had surgery and occasionally we invite men into our bed. We’re not a conventional family, to say the least, but we’re a happier one than most that I meet. I fell in love with who I am and the life I found for myself. I wouldn’t trade it for the typical boring life most live.


 

Short Stories

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