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I was stretched out in bed reading when Pixie, my sweet and soft-spoken roommate, knocked on the door. She looked a little flustered — freshly single and more than a little frustrated. Her vibrator had died on her, and she asked if I had a backup. I showed her a few, but I told her the truth: I've never really liked toys. I prefer skin, hands, mouths... the real deal.

That's when she hinted she was more curious about me than my collection. And just like that, things shifted.

This scene unfolds with natural chemistry and playful, queer intimacy between a dominant trans woman (me) and my petite, eager college roommate. She starts by going down on me, learning quickly how to please a TS goddess. I take my time with her, fingering her until she's squirming, and then we move through positions her ex never gave her the chance to explore — sidegirl, doggy, cowgirl. It's lighthearted, a little rough at times, and full of real connection.

Pixie might've come looking for a toy, but she ended up getting something much better: a crash course in queer sex from someone who knows what she's doing. By the time we're done, she's grateful, breathless, and not even pretending to worry about her midterms anymore or her worthless ex-boyfriend anymore.