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Stacy and I left the bar and walked through the brisk, crisp fall windy streets to her place. I was thrilled with this: no pressure, lots of laughs, no poses, and so far, no complications. My first hook up with a girl was doing well. Too soon to talk? I hoped not. What did I know about making love to a girl? Well, I read a lot of erotica with transgender characters: the girl with a cock that looks for the girl without one. Then I watch porn: it turns me on to see the girly dick slide into girly pussy. I had good solitary moments with these scenes and then imagining doing it with a stranger or a girl with a face, a name, someone I had met. Despite the hormones I was performing well: very hardening dick with lots of cum. I was happy for that. I felt fantastic and hot. I had just started attending Yoga. I was going to be good with Stacy.
As we got to her place nothing led me as to what Stacy wanted -well, she and I wanted sex- or how it would go about: who would dominate? Who should start? What would she want to do to me? This because, as Laura with Cindy that first night, I was unsure if I wanted to reveal my full attributes this very first night. Then I saw this as a fling and decided that yes, my cock would work tonight. I just did not know how or at what point. I was not cheating on anyone, just starting to explore my new sexuality. Still, I did not know how it would work with women. Did she suspect anything? Anyhow, we arrived at the door and things we about to start getting hotter, fast. As soon as we were in Stacy, somewhat tipsy, just said "Come, let's make love", and started undressing me by taking off my shirt revealing my smallish tits with its aroused nipples which she started sucking right there. I did the same, leaving her shirtless and admired what I already knew were fantastic tits, as she was not wearing a bra at the bar: just as I like them, slightly largem pear-shaped and slightly sagging with large, dark areolas and pointy nipples. I was going to enjoy these: my very first tits.
I chose Yoga, some months after having started my classes. It was some months after Stacy with whom I grew as a woman in what was essentially for me a lesbian relationship. I was learning every minute during that first year. Yoga, I decided, was going to be my life. I deeply believed that Yoga was an activity that would transcend sexual orientation, one in which the aims are beyond the physical, beyond appearances, or the stares you get with other kind of interactions. Indeed, I thought there was a way to create a whole daily routine in Yoga that would make me feel natural of behaving as a woman, where I would loose the self-awareness around people that did nor care, did not stare, did not act rudely and respected a private space. This turned out to be very true. Yet, it is also a setting to start very open, meaningful relationships: the physical appreciation you might get of your fellow students or students is deep. You observe them constantly, you gauge them as you learn from them and as you teach. In any case, any physical attraction, I found, had to be complemented with a deep emotional and perhaps intellectual one. Yes, it makes things more complicated but only as much as you are not able to assess what you feel for someone. In Yoga I found love of every kind.