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We didn’t need much. Just a dark room, soft hands, and the quiet certainty of two girls who knew exactly what they wanted. This was early in my transition — I still looked a little uncertain, a little unfinished, but she didn’t seem to mind. She touched me like I was already perfect. Low light wrapped around us like a blanket. Orange and black, shadows and skin. Her mouth found my chest, slow and reverent, and before I knew it, I was on my back, legs shaking, filled to the hilt by her strap. It’s soft, it’s filthy, it’s real — a memory soaked in sweat, nerves, and the kind of closeness only girls can share in the dark.