The Night I Lost Myself

I met this girl at a bar last week. We hit it off instantly over drinks and stayed up talking till the early hours of the morning. She had this wild look in her eyes, and she said things that made me feel like I was seeing myself from another angle, someone who could let go and enjoy life without all these hang-ups about gender or being seen as 'normal'. We ended up back at my place. The room was dark when we got there, but the moonlight coming in was enough for her to find her way to me, pulling off my clothes with a fierce determination that left me breathless. I leaned into it, I wanted this so badly. Her hands were everywhere, finding all these spots on my body that hadn't been touched like that since before transition. She pulled me down onto the bed and began exploring every inch of skin she could reach. My dick hardened against her thigh; she smiled wickedly as if she'd known it would happen. She straddled me then, guiding myself inside her slowly at first, but soon enough we were both moving wildly, lost in each other's heat and touch. I felt a primal urge to take control, flipping us over so that she was under me, my body pressing against hers with every thrust. Our breaths mingled, panting and moaning into each other's mouths as the pleasure built. It lasted longer than either of us expected, we kept pushing until there wasn't a single part of our bodies not covered in sweat or marks from rough handling. And then suddenly it was over, with us both spent and staring up at the ceiling trying to process what had just happened. I felt...different somehow. Rawer? Less guarded? It's stuck on repeat in my head ever since.