It's tough, being in college, and yet to have had a girlfriend. But, being shy in highschool, and not particularly muscled or good looking, didn't help me in the dating pool. And I wasn't very outgoing, rather solving a math problem, or a computer puzzle, than watching a football or basketball match.

But now that I was in college I was eying the girls more, hoping that one would understand me, and accept me. But again, I wasn't going out drinking in pubs, using a fake driver's license. And I wasn't really attracted to church girls either. So, I stuck to browsing the net, slowly starting to understand the type I was interested in.

It was good that my roommate quit college early on, leaving me in our room by myself, so that I could give myself a hand job, while ogling girls with long wild red hair in little black dresses on towering heels. Or in leather leggings with sexy bra tops. And then I saw her.

She had long red hair, of course, and her black dress perhaps a bit longer, but curve fitting, and just showing her stiletto heels. And I fell in love with her freckled cute face. It was just the caption that went with it that was confusing.

“Lonely trans girl searching for someone who understands me, who treats me like the woman I am, and loves me for who I am.” It was signed with TGinger, which was more or less her user name as well.

She had used words similar to my own, so I felt for her. And she was beautiful, and perfectly fitting my type, I was sure of that. But why would someone so pretty be so lonely and not have someone to love? Unless it was that one word. Trans.

Of course I had a slight uncomfortable feeling about it myself. Was this a transition student, like an exchange student from another college or country even? Or was it related to her gender, not that I'd ever seen someone like that. A quick search on the web suggested it was the latter.

The pictures that came up colored my cheeks a bit. I wasn't really looking for porn, but I wasn't sure what to call pictures of women with big breasts and a big dick between their legs. Was that even real? But in some of the videos it seemed they had the same definition for hand jobs as I had.

I liked the pictures of the women in pretty dresses and high heels better, but in some you could see a slight bulge in their crotch area. I wasn't appalled though, just more curious. Especially when there was another picture of my dream girl, with a similar request for finding love.

I have to say I was just as uncomfortable as with any girl I have ever tried to talk to, but I managed to send her a message through the chat feature. “Hi. I think you're cute! Hope you have found that love you're looking for.” It took me a minute before I dared to click the Send button, and after that I felt sick, a feeling I recognized from the few times I tried to talk to a girl.

I didn't expect a quick answer, for all I knew she could live on a different continent. But, a minute later her answer came in. “Thanks! Still looking…”

I was baffled, but in a way it made it easier to reply. “But why? You're beautiful!”

I guess it broke the ice, and soon we were chatting back and forth. She didn't live on a different continent. Not even a different country. Same state even, same city. We were going to the same school, with fifty thousand students, although she lived off-campus. By now she asked to see a picture of me.

It was only fair, since I already knew what she looked like. But I was suddenly very aware that my looks had never excited any girl. I mean, it wasn't like I had warts or stuff on my face, it just wasn't very manly. I had yet to grow any facial hair. But, fair is fair, I wasn't going to send a fake or photoshopped picture. I prepared to be dismissed, but her reply came as “You've got potential”.

Potential? For what? Being her boyfriend? She asked for a man to love her, to treat her as a woman, not a boy like me. Obviously, I used a bit of different words in my reply, to which she replied, “I never said I was looking for a man!”

Looking back at her picture I realized she was right. She was “looking for someone” who treated her “like the woman she was”. And in our chat so far I had done just that. So, me having potential meant she was still talking to me?

Our talks suddenly became more intimate, and I asked her what exactly it meant that she was a trans girl. Was it gender related? It took minutes before an answer came back, and I worried I had gone too far. But, when her reply came, she apologized first for the delay. Small emergency in the kitchen, where her food had burned, because she had forgotten about it, while chatting with me.

We laughed about it, and boldly I suggested I could bring some food over, and suddenly we were setting up a date at a fried chicken place we both liked. But first…

First she wanted to answer my question. Because it could change my mind about her. And yes, it was gender related. She was born a boy, just like me. But she had known in her mind she was really a girl, and started transitioning before puberty even. And that's where most people, and she didn't say boys or men, most people thought she was a freak, no matter her looks.

Then she said she would understand it if I wanted to skip out of our “date”. I was confused, definitely wasn't sure how I felt about it. I had sort of assumed, based on the pictures that I'd seen, that they were women that somehow had grown a dick, a female dick even, as they all seemed to be hairless and feminine. But this meant that they were all men that had grown breasts and long legs and hourglass figures and beautiful faces? It seemed way more complicated than my original assessment.

Instinctively I sensed she needed a quick answer though, so I replied in honesty, saying I wasn't sure yet what to think about it. I had many questions, but could we discuss it over our chicken dinner?

She seemed relieved, but she suggested we meet at the restaurant, but then get takeout, and we eat it in the privacy of her apartment. Some things were not easy to talk about in public.

It made sense, and although a tiny warning bell in my brain told me that this could all be a setup, to rob me with a bunch of her friends, or worse even. But, she seemed sincere, and maybe this trans part had made it easier for me to talk to her so freely, without making a fool of myself, like I have done in the past.

So, half an hour later, with a clean shirt and some deodorant on, I met her at the restaurant. Her name wasn't Ginger, but Sonya. And she looked amazing. A little black dress with enough swish in the skirt, showing off long legs in three inch heels, which made her an inch or so taller than me. Her red hair was wild, and her lips perfectly painted. My perfect woman, and I felt my dick going hard instantly.

And, as she looked me over as well, she didn't dismiss me, even smiled as she clearly noticed the discomfort in my pants. We ordered very similarly, she went for classic and I for extra crispy. Then we walked to her place, while talking about simple things, like where we came from and what we studied. Even there we were close enough, as she was in computer science, where I was majoring in math, with a minor in computer algorithms.

Her place was small but cozy. Two bedrooms, and a small kitchen and shared common room. Her roommate was out of town. I could clearly smell the food still that had burned earlier, so it all felt genuine. And as we ate our chicken, the discussion became more serious.

A new world opened up to me of hormones, surgeries, pronouns, rejection, ridicule and violence. In a way she was lucky, having parents that recognized her problems as a boy at a young age, and started the process to fix it. She remembered so well how going to middle school as a girl was the happiest day in her life. Her breasts developed like other girls, but too many kids remembered her still as a boy, and the bullying and hate speech started.

She had to switch to a new school in a neighboring town and although the bullying stopped, she wasn't allowed to participate in any girls sport. Which made it much harder to make friends, so she concentrated on her studies and graduated in the top five of her senior class.

She had a decent prom experience with a nice boy, who dumped her later when he found out the truth about her. So far, in college, she had kept a low profile, until she decided to post some pictures with her request for love. Oh, she had many replies, even proposals, but she found out that many people online act differently in real life. I was the first one to say just the right words, and as fate would have it, I lived in the same city.

My own story wasn't as exciting, although I had my share of bullying. Kids can be cruel on anyone who doesn't fit the mold. No sports for me either, my physical build was lacking compared to all the other boys. And my shyness because of that around girls translated into nausea when I had to talk to them. Hence, no prom for me. But, like her, I did well in school and found my friends in math problems. And finding her online was the first positive thing I did trying to turn my life around.

And I confessed to her that maybe I had not been treating her as the woman she was, because I hadn't puked all over her. It was an interesting point, and we came to the conclusion it had to do with the word “trans”. Something in my mind that accepted her as someone who didn't frighten me, instead attracted me. It was food for thought, and it brought us to the topic of sex.

She wanted to know if I believed in sex early on when dating, or saving it for later. And somehow I blurted out that I had never dated before. And as embarrassing as that was, she understood after hearing my story, “But”, she said, “you will never have to say that again, because this is an official date.” And she was right, I realized, as a smile appeared on my face.

The reason for her asking was that the few times she had dated a boy, it went well until somewhere during the third or fourth date the boy wanted more. And that's when they would find out that she didn't have a pussy, and that was the end right away, one time with a violence that gave her a black eye for two weeks.

But, as she stated, what if you tried sex on the first date, the boy would know right away, or the one girl she dated once, and if it ended right then, at least she didn't have to keep her hopes up.

I had the feeling she was trying to tell me something between the lines. And suddenly it occurred to me, she was enjoying me as much as I was enjoying being with her. But she was worried about what I would say about her not having a pussy.

I really didn't know the answer, I told her, as a matter of fact, I had no idea what a pussy looked like, up close, so I didn't have certain expectations. However, by introducing herself as trans, in essence her date would know right away what was in store for them. But, I was honest with her as well, I didn't know what to expect about that either.

So, she said, why not try to at least solve that problem? And if after that we still liked each other, then we could date more often, and who knows what would happen then.

I liked the sound of that, but without any experience, other than masturbating now and then, I had no idea how to proceed. But thank God, that's when she took the lead.

She took my hand and guided me to her bedroom. As she said she had noticed my hard-on from the moment we met, and it didn't seem like it had stopped. I nodded, because I knew that all we talked about had made me long for her even more. So she promised to give me some relief.

She made me take down my pants and underwear, and as I sat on the side of her bed, she sat on her knees in front of me, and moved between my legs. I learned real quickly the difference between helping yourself, or someone else helping you. And as her soft mouth took my hard dick in, the warm flesh of her tongue wrapping around me made me moan.

And as one hand pumped the base of my dick, while her other hand tickled my scrotum, I could feel myself growing even more in her mouth. I had no idea this feeling could even exist and in less than sixty wonderful seconds did I shoot my load. She lapped it up eagerly, swallowing all, with a delighted smile on her face, where my own face was simply stunned. Never before did I experience such pleasure.

When my heart rate finally came down a bit I apologized for cumming so quickly, but she told me not to worry. She saw it as my desire for her, so that was good. But, the critical thing now was, would I return the favor?

And suddenly I understood. If she were a biological woman, she'd expect me to eat out her pussy. But she wasn't, and she hadn't gone through that final surgery yet, which meant that she was still very similar to me down there. And thus, returning the favor meant that I was to take in her dick and give her a blow job. And that sounded very gay, right?

But, if it was a gay act, hadn't I already participated in it when she blew me? Had I not enjoyed it tremendously? As did she? Or is it simply not that black and white? Had I not already accepted that she was a woman? And beautiful at that? So, if I really wanted to treat her as a woman, shouldn't I eat her out and return the pleasure? Even if her womanhood looked more like my own?

I scolded myself for not seeing that right away, so I gave her my most honest answer. “I've never done something like this before. But I'm going to try to give you as much pleasure as you gave me.”

The surprise on her face was quickly replaced by a huge smile, and as we changed positions, she lifted up her skirt and pulled her panties down. And as I looked at the small dick between her legs, even though it was swollen and hard, I could only conclude it looked more female than male. Cute almost the way it was totally hairless, and it smelled as good as the rest of her. I gave myself no chance to think it over, and I opened my mouth.

As I wrapped my lips around her, the taste was like her scent. Female. And her meat reacted as I licked my tongue against it. I could feel it pulse in the rhythm of her heart. I remembered how she'd grabbed me by the base, and I did the same to her, tickling the small balls hiding behind it. Then I started sucking.

I could hear her surprised moan as she grew instantly in the vacuum I created inside my mouth. And I went in full on her now, moving her deeper inside, then back a bit, my lips creating an electric friction on her skin. And as I squeezed the base in a pulsating move as well, I could hear an urgent cry as she tried to pull back. But she was mine now, and I held on, as I simply sucked the cum from her. Small squirts hit my throat as I sucked in the slimy goo. It was weird but tasteful, as female as she was.

I think I drained her completely, as I slowly let go of her, cleaning her deflating dick between my lips as she pulled out. I had a smile now on my face as I knew I had definitely returned the favor. And when I looked at her face I saw tears in her eyes. But they were tears of happiness.

Nothing was said as Sonya in a single move stepped out of her dress, and naked but for a satiny bra she laid back on the bed, and patted the space beside her, a clear invitation for me to join her. I took my own shirt off, and completely naked set myself down next to her, as she pulled a blanket over the both of us.

Then she moved her body against mine, our skin heating where we touched each other, as she crossed her arm around me. We laid there for a good ten minutes before she finally spoke.

“I never experienced what you just gave me. How come you're so good to me?” I had to swallow a chuckle, surprised by her words, but the answer was simple. “When I saw your picture the first time I thought you were a beautiful woman. But when I got to know you today I realized you have a beautiful mind as well. And the beautiful thing you did to me, I never knew I could feel so good.”

“So”, she replied, “where do we go from here?”

“Well”, I answered, “hopefully I can see you more often. More dates. More getting to know you. More… eehh sex?”

She laughed at that. “Yes, I'd like that too. But there's a few things you don't know about me yet. And they're just as important. Now that I know we have a chance together I need you to know.”

“Don't worry about it too much. We're both very smart, so I'm sure we can figure this out. Tell me, what else do I need to know?”