My Sexy Trans Woman

my first experience

I sat alone at a table in the bar, nursing my iced beer, when she walked across the room. My heart skipped a beat as I watched her swaying hips, each movement drawing me in like a moth to a flame. There was something electric about her presence, and I felt an inexplicable pull.

She pulled up a chair and sat at a table across from mine, granting me an even better view. My breath caught in my throat as my eyes traced the contours of her leather dress, which hugged her curves with an effortless allure. I felt a warmth spreading through me, a mix of admiration and longing.

Eventually, our gazes locked, and she noticed my attention. With a flick of her long black hair, she flashed me a smile that sent a thrill racing down my spine. My heart raced, and I found myself captivated by the way her lips curled into that inviting grin.

Her purple lipstick stood out against her radiant smile, and in that moment, I felt an overwhelming urge to know her. I hesitated for just a moment before returning her smile and gesturing for her to join me, my palms suddenly clammy with nervous anticipation.

As she rose from her chair, I couldn’t help but admire the way she moved—each step deliberate and confident, radiating an energy that made my pulse quicken. Her heels clicked softly against the floor, creating a rhythm that echoed the rapid beat of my heart.

When she reached my table, the air between us crackled with unspoken possibilities. I could feel my cheeks flush as I took in her beauty, wondering if she could sense the mix of excitement and vulnerability swirling inside me.

“Why are you here all alone?” she asked, her voice softening as if she genuinely cared.

I took a moment, feeling the weight of her gaze on me. “I’m just trying to get some fun after a stressful day.” I forced a smile, but it felt more like a mask than a reflection of my true feelings.

She rolled her eyes playfully and bit her lower lip, a gesture that sent an unexpected flutter through my chest. “No wife waiting for you at home?”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “I ain’t got no wife, nor a girlfriend.” The admission felt oddly liberating, yet it hung in the air like an unfulfilled promise.

Her smile widened, and for a brief moment, the awkward silence between us felt charged with unspoken possibilities. I broke it first, wanting to keep the conversation flowing. “What do you want to drink?”

“I’m fine with a tequila,” she replied, her eyes glimmering with mischief.

I called the waitress over, my heart racing as I ordered her drink. “What’s your name, beautiful lady?” I asked, hoping to draw her out further.

“My name is Santia,” she said, her name rolling off her tongue like a melody. “What about you?” I noticed the hint of a Spanish accent in her voice, adding an exotic allure that captivated me.

“Eric Wagner,” I replied, feeling an odd sense of connection. “Where do you come from?”

“I’m from Mexico,” she said softly, inhaling her tequila through a straw as if savoring the moment. The way she took that sip was both casual and intimate, making me wonder what other secrets lay behind those dark eyes.

" What do you do?" I asked, trying to read through her.

“I’m a real estate agent,” she replied, her voice smooth and soothing as she tipped her head slightly, trying to draw me in. “What about you?”

“I’m a programmer. I work mostly from home.” Her enthusiasm was palpable, and I could see the gears turning in her mind as she considered the implications of our conversation.