Trans.

I've done many, many strange things in my life, but one of the most surreal was banging a transsexual. This story, unfortunately, requires another story.

When I was 16, I met a guy on the internet. We'll call him John. We both shared a love of poetry, and we spent time critiquing and editing each others' work. Slowly but surely, we started developing feelings for each other, even if only through the internet and telephone.

When we finally met, there were sparks. John wasn't what you'd call sexy, but he was spunky and adorable. He had purple hair and wore fairy shirts. I knew something was a little off, but he had told me he was bisexual, so I just accepted it. We fell madly in love, and we did it pretty quickly. John would drive an hour to come get me, take me back to his house, and then leave 4 hours later to bring me home before I had to get up for school. We spent nights watching movies and cuddling and making food, all the while falling harder and harder for each other.

The year I turned 17, I dropped out of high school to move in with him. I did it for more reasons than him, obviously, but it was a factor in my decision. After I moved in with him, things started coming out. He wanted acrylic nails. He would run around the house in makeup, and ask to borrow my skirts. He bought wigs, and we played with them together.

Finally, just a month before my 18th birthday, he told me that he was transgendered and wanted to become a woman. Personally, I have no problems with anyone that wants to do that. I have nothing but respect for trans girls/guys, because it's a really, really difficult road that they have to take.

However, in my personal life, I knew I couldn't handle it. I couldn't handle having known and been in love with someone for 2 years, only to have to adjust to a whole new person, a whole new lifestyle. Throw in the shame factor, and I knew I couldn't do it.

We were supposed to get married. I had a diamond ring, a dress, and my friend was making invitations. There were other reasons we ended, and only a small portion of it was because he was transgendered. Drug addiction and jail usually turn a girl off, more so than turning into a member of the opposite sex.

So, now you know the basic history. It's quite complicated, and in all honesty, heartbreaking. So it shouldn't surprise anyone when, last fall, we spoke to each other and decided to have a fling.

I am bisexual. I love men, I love women, I love sex. I thought that having sex with a transgendered person would be like the best of both worlds.

Unfortunately, I was wrong.

Maybe it's just because the whole situation is awkward. Maybe I just don't like sex with transgendered people. I don't know.

But the entire time, all I could think of was, "This woman has a dick. There's boobs in my face and a dick in my pussy. This is so not right." John still made sounds like he did when he was a man, but when I'd look at his face, I'd see make-up smearing across his eyes. I still viewed him as a man, only in a different getup. I absolutely couldn't get over it.

The only time I was even remotely comfortable with the situation was when he was eating me out. I LOVE oral, probably moreso than your average woman. And John was always exceptional at it. Not only was he good, but he LOVED doing it. He loved how I tasted, how I looked, how I moaned. (And, men, that is the KEY to giving good oral- act like you love it.) When he was down there, I didn't have to look at him. I didn't have boobs in my face, I didn't have a dick pounding me. It was easy to pretend I was with a woman, or with a man. I could pick one and stick with it.

I'm not dissing ANYONE who has a preference for transgendered men and women. Not at all. In fact, I'd even be willing to try it again with someone I didn't know pre-transition. I think the fact that I knew John as a man for so long, that we had so much history together as a male-female couple made things horrible for me.

However, in the near future, I can't see myself with any she-males. I prefer to pick a sex and stick with it.