We were both overeager 18 year-old kids and it was only a couple of minutes before he was sitting on my bed in his boxers, his erection straining against the fabric. I was topless, enjoying the feeling of his hands on my bare breasts. I moaned and threw my head back. I wasn’t looking as his hand slithered its way up my legs and I didn’t notice as his knuckles pressed under the hem of my skirt. I barely felt it as his fingers slipped inside of my panties. But, I heard him.
“What the fuck?” I he said. I stopped kissing his neck and looked down. My skirt was hiked up and my hard cock was pulled out from within my panties. For a second my cock rested on Dave’s hand. He was looking down at it and then suddenly his hand spasmed like he was electrocuted and he dropped it. He even wiped his hands off on his jeans.
“What?” I said, a little confused. I was quite worked up at the moment, my cheeks were flushed and I was so incredibly horny. I didn’t know what to think, I just wanted to finally have sex.
“What the hell are you?” He asked and he flipped my skirt back down and covered my exposed cock. He looked at me hurt and confused.
“What do you mean?” I asked, pushing my knees together and feeling embarrassed.
“Rose, you have a… dick!” Dave said. He quickly stood up from the bed and started to pace around the room.
“Yeah, but…” I started. For a moment I wondered why this was such an issue. He thought I was pretty, he told me as much. I’d seen he had an erection, so he thought I was sexually attractive. Why was he going to let something silly, something I barely thought about, get us out of the mood.
“Yeah, but!” he yelled back, “That is more than just a little thing. You are a dude!” he said. I felt like I’d been smacked.
“I am not, I am a girl. You can see with your eyes. You touched my breasts, you’ve kissed my lips!” I yelled back.
“Shut up, you’re making it worse!” he shouted. Then he looked around, I guess wondering if anyone else on the floor heard him. “You said you like me.”
“I like girls, I don’t like… cock!” he said.
“I am what I am, you liked me. I am more than a cock. I don’t understand.”
“I thought I liked you,” he said, suddenly stopping his pacing. He turned and looked at me, disgust on his face. “But that was before I knew what you were. You’re… repulsive.” He said. I didn’t even have time to register what he said, the tears started coming before I fully comprehended what he said. I suddenly felt stupid and naive. On top of feeling ugly and inhuman. I couldn’t ever remember crying that hard in my life. Something inside of me had shattered.
I felt Dave’s hand on my shoulder. I remember thinking that I couldn’t ever be attracted to him again, but at least he could apologize for the hurt he caused. I would learn that I expected too much. I looked up. His brow was furrowed.
“Listen,” he said, “I don’t want anyone to know about this any more than you do. I will keep your secret so don’t worry about that. I just… don’t talk to me anymore okay. If anyone asks, we will both just say we aren’t compatible and we had a fight and we don’t want to talk about it. Okay?” Secret? I thought, what secret? I’d never intended to keep a secret.
“I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“Don’t be a dick, let’s just pretend this never happened,” he said. He looked at me pleadingly. I suddenly realized what was happening. He was afraid of people thinking he was gay. Because I had a dick. It didn’t matter that everyone thought I was a pretty girl or that he thought I was fun. If people knew who I really was, that would be social disaster. I felt worse than before.
“Yeah, whatever,” I said, “I don’t ever want to think about tonight again either.” So much for that I guess. Dave released my shoulder and walked to the door. He turned and looked at me once, shook his head and walked out. That image is ingrained in my mind, the shame and disappointment I arouse in others, eloquently stated with a shake of the head and a hasty retreat.
It was about a year after my experience with Dave before I was able to get over the shock. He’d really scared me. Suddenly, the bubbling self-confidence of a high school homecoming queen was shaken and I didn’t know what to think. I spent a lot of time thinking about what made me a girl and what made me different. I wondered if I truly was repulsive or if, maybe, it was just Dave. The fear that I was actually disgusting held me back. Guys still asked me out, quite often actually, but I rejected them. I still wanted sex though. I was so incredibly horny all the time, but I could never let that get the better of me.
Then something changed. At the start of my second semester sophomore year, I was taking a psychology course. The professor was talking about sexuality (what else is a psychology course good for?), and she was explaining that in American culture, women in the late 20th and early 21st century were given more freedom to explore their homoerotic urges. Simply put, culture granted an indulgence to allow girls to “experiment” with girls in a way that was wholly inappropriate for boys. It was a simple, somewhat obvious observation, but it suddenly electrified my thinking. If Dave’s problem was a little bit of homophobia then that would be common for men, but girls would be different. I’d always considered myself bisexual, but in high school (and in the first two weeks of college), I’d only dealt with boys. It was just easier that way. But in college, a lesbian relationship couldn’t be too hard to find, it would be easier than at any other time in my life. I stopped looking inward, and started looking at the beautiful women around me. Dormant attraction burst out of me and suddenly I was seeing the sexual potential of all the women on campus.
Eventually, that sexual energy found a (seemingly) willing opposite. Her name was Rita and I met her when we both worked at a bar and grill near campus as waitresses. She was a cute little red-headed girl who didn’t take shit from the customers and pretty much taught me everything I knew about waitressing. Sometimes after our shifts we’d stay at the bar and have a drink before we went home. During one of those evenings, we were talking about the cheerleaders we saw on the television and she confessed that she was a lesbian but asked that I not tell anyone. I agreed.
That was about three months before the psych lecture. I kept her secret for those three months and didn’t think about it, I was too wrapped up in my own stuff. But that evening, I went to work and afterwards I asked if she wanted to get a drink. She agreed and I suggested that we get a booth. I didn’t want to make the same mistake as I had with Dave, I would be up front.
“So Rita,” I said as she took a sip of beer and looked at the television screen. I didn’t say anything else.
“Yeah what?” she asked, running her hand through her long, beautiful hair.
“Do you remember what we talked about a few months ago?” I asked in the most circumspect manner possible. Rita laughed.
“I am going to be honest with you Rose, I have been told that I hardly ever shut up. So you are going to have to be a little more specific,” she said and then took another sip of beer.
“About… sexual preference…” I said in a very low voice. She quickly set down her beer and looked at me. Her eyes narrowed a bit, she was a bit nervous.
“What about it?” she asked. I hadn’t wanted her to feel strange, I knew how that felt. To be made to feel unworthy because of who you are, so I spoke again quickly.
“I was just wondering, well… Would you like to, I don’t know… get dinner sometime instead of just drinks,” I said. I hoped that I wasn’t being too coy about it. Rita gave me a long look for a moment, and then set down her beer. For a second I thought she was actually going to be mad at me, but then a broad grin broke out on her face.
“Rose Malloy, you quiet little bitch!” she said and she took another drink of beer, “I can’t believe you hid this from me all this time. I never for a second thought you were interested in me. I floated that out there like four months ago and you just nodded.”
“You were hitting on me?” I asked, incredulously.
“Did I pout when I spoke? Did I press my breasts together when I discussed it with you?” she asked and then she laughed.
“I don’t know!” I started.
“Well I thought that maybe there was some attraction there, but then you totally didn’t bite. I figured you didn’t like me. But of course we can go out, I wanted to go out with you months ago. I just didn’t know you were a lesbian.” She said and I felt my chest tighten a bit. Dave, and all the self-doubt that came after Dave, taught me that this wasn’t so easy. And Rita gave me the perfect opening.
“Well, I don’t know if you can call me a lesbian,” I started.
“Bi, whatever. The point is, you like girls,” she said, “where do you want to go?”
“No not that,” I said, although that was the case, “I mean, some people won’t consider me a lesbian at all.”
“Why, are you virgin?” she asked brusquely. It was that bold sort of talk that I liked about her and made gave me the strength to keep talking. I realized that I had to stop beating around the bush. I leaned forward and whispered in Rita’s ear.
“I was born genetically a male. I have a penis. But I have always been, and have always lived as a girl. And I really like you,” I said. Then I leaned back.
I couldn’t believe I’d actually said it. My heart was fluttering and I could barely keep my head up. I looked across the table at Rita. For a long while she just stared at me with a blank look on her face. I couldn’t read it and the tension inside of me grew stronger and stronger. Finally she laughed once.
“Okay,” she said, “Good joke. So I guess you don’t want to go out either. You were just fucking with me.” She said. I gulped deeply and shook my head imperceptibly.
“No, I do.” I said, my voice sounding weak. She looked at me again.
“You aren’t joking,” she said after another long pause. It wasn’t a question. She snorted some air out of her nose and shook her head. I gulped down air like a fish out of water.
“I just want you to know the truth,” I said, “so where do you want to go out?” I asked, hopeful, just trying to push past this. She snorted again and shook her head.