Goth Girl n’ a Big Truck

There’s always the firsts, the first kiss, the first time he says I love you, the first date spot, the first time in your bed. He was the first to explore Gia. Recently single and taking hormones, I was reborn. It felt as though everything that had happened before meant nothing because as the estrogen raged through my body, everything felt different. The way I saw a man or how his hand felt on my thigh, it was no longer the same. I lusted for a man with my body and became emotional horny. The girls at work watched as you picked me up in your big truck after I got out. At this point in my life, I swore off Grindr; it was the first time in almost a decade I didn’t rely on a gay dating app to find men in Vermont. As Gia was born, all her previous methods had to die, so bars and Hinge became her new stomping grounds. You were a new everything for me and straight, which was another realm I used to avoid until now. The long hair and soft features with a giant truck and shit kickers, I was entering my love of redneck boys era, and you’d be my first departure into them. It was another winter day, and you listened away god I bet I couldn’t shut up as you asked question after question, keeping me going. We talked for hours as you drove me around. I didn’t realize a truck could make me so wet until you drove up a mountain road with through a foot of snow, plowing through like it was nothing, and as the bumps got worse and I started bouncing around, you grabbed my thigh, pulling me next to you with an iron grip. I might as well have melted away right there; my thong was wet in anticipation of what you’d do next. But led me on for a while, holding my thigh as we traversed through the snow and over the mountain. As the hours added on to each other, we realized it was getting late enough to probably head home; that’s when you pulled into the first parking lot you saw. Funny how it ended up being a Dollar General parking lot, and we went at each other. I wasn’t even prepared to the degree I’d like, but you ripped me out of my tights and all the clothes getting in your way. I put you in my lips only for a short moment until you pushed me down on the seat and got on top of me, ready to penetrate me. I was the first trans girl you’d ever been inside of. The nervousness radiated from you, but you were my first straight boy, so the cards were even. Crazy to think only a few hours spent together turned so quickly into letting you fuck me. My lust for you and many others always got in the way of me saying no, I wanted it too bad. You didn’t last long inside me, and I knew I was tight, so I wasn’t surprised I wasn’t expecting to even let it go this far, but you know how it plays out, how it does. Nothing came from those hours together; our lives were too far apart to allow anything to really work between us. Although I really liked you, even if you had a kid, and a past that was maybe a little complicated, even if I wasn’t the kind of girl you could bring around. You were sweet and nonjudgmental of who I was. You were understanding and accepting of me, a rare feat from a straight guy. I’ll never forget how you grabbed my thigh and the way you opened the truck door for me like a gentleman. Something about those redneck boys being gentlemen makes me so wet. So you were my first and I was your first. Goth girl in a big truck, I’ll never forget it.