This post isn’t about giving head for the first time, or otherwise losing my virginity. It’s about my very first time in an all-girl aerobics class, making me feel as if I were being asked to pledge in the hottest, coolest sorority on campus. This most memorable event occurred relatively early in my m-t-f transition, so a lot of would-be Tgirls wonder (quite rightly): “How in the world did you pull that off?”
Please pardon the unfortunate metaphor, but it took balls. Yes, it takes balls to become a woman!
It helped that the local health club was actively and aggressively recruiting new members and that the salesman who eagerly greeted me at the door was a horny, greedy, and clueless guy in his early twenties. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the seat of my skin-tight Guess jeans accentuated with a thick leather belt cinched so tight I could hardly breathe. (If I remember right, I was encased in a foam-rubber hip and bottom padded girdle from Frederick’s of Hollywood!)
Anyway, my wiggling butt kept his eyes off my too broad shoulders and still masculine (though expertly made up) face. Like lust, greed surely played a part as well — he no doubt would get a commision on every trial membership he could sell.
It happened that an aerobics class was getting underway just as he was finishing up the tour and his sales pitch, so he said: “Why don’t you join the other girls, and I’ll have your membership application ready for your signature after the class.”
Ushering me to the door of the women’s locker room, he could hardly keep his hand off my butt. When the door closed behind me and I was thus admitted into the inner sanctum, I almost fainted. I didn’t dare look at the “other” girls in various stages of undress, but headed for the nearest unoccupied locker. Luckily, I didn’t really have to change, but just shed my jeans and sweater. Underneath were at least two layers of tights (to conceal the lines of my girdle) and a long-sleeve, black leotard.