Avoid mood-killers, explore consent, and most importantly, get each other all hot and bothered.

So you've met someone and things are heating up. Maybe you're just beginning on your journey of sexual awakening, maybe you're experienced but not so much with trans people, or maybe you're trans yourself and want to make sure you're being as considerate as possible before anyone's clothes hit the floor. No matter what your situation is, there should be some good information here for you. The bulk of this is written from my own sexual experiences as a trans person, and partner to a trans person but I've also included some outside resources that I've found helpful.

Step one: don't make any assumptions. We're not all the same, so even if you've slept with one trans person, what works for them might not work for your next paramour. For example, I slept with someone once who referred to my genital area with a word a previous partner had enjoyed. That word made me cringe so hard that the my thighs slammed shut, sex over, no thank you, nuh-uh, ew gross, no thank you. I won't repeat what it was here, because like I said, even though that word is an absolute mood killer for me, it's perfectly fine for many other folks. So fine, in fact you'll probably see it if you frequent enough porn sites.

In practice, that just means have a conversation about words. Things come up when you're getting down, and it's always better to know beforehand what words and terms will turn your partner on (not off). The sentiment you're trying to express here is simple: "Are there any words you like using or don't like using for your genitals and/or erogenous zones?" Of course that's not what I usually say, because I'm not a psychopath. Instead, I usually go with something like "are there any sexual words you like or don't like?" I recently had someone ask "what terms do you prefer for stuff below the belt?" which is a fantastic way to frame that question, A-plus, 10/10, please see me after class.

If you're like me and you're a big big slut, you might want to go for a saucier approach -- if your relationship with this person is already erotically charged. For instance, I might do some heavy-duty grade-A flirting, then lean in close and ask something like "where are some places you might want me to put my mouth later?" It all depends on at what point in your relationship you're asking these questions (moments before sex, or before it's ever even on the table?). For me (again, big slut) I opt for "in the vicinity of sex," typically. Are we already on the topic? Are we sexting and I need to fill in the blank before I send you a message so shockingly filthy you'll drop your phone and it'll hit your boner on the way down? Be smart, err on the side of caution.

There are some words and terms that are easy to overlook, though. Specifically things like "suck" or "eat," and "hard" or "wet." When there are words for things that you might typically associate with a vulva or phallus specifically, consider if those words might have gendered connotations before using them. As always, it's best to ask.

At this point, you might be asking yourself: "jeez is this whole article just telling me to ask questions and be courteous?" Yes, actually. That is kind of the whole thing. Consent is a conversation, it's not an implication, it's not subtle, it's not subtext. It's spoken clearly and unambiguously, it's enthusiastic. That's what all of this is about: consent. Consent to use certain words, consent to touch certain places, consent to touch those places in a certain way.

Other words you might want to check on before you hit the sheets: Good girl, good boy, mommy, daddy, master, mistress, etc. If you'll be engaging in any kind of kink, advanced conversations about consent should be a breeze for you, just make sure you touch on anything that's even remotely gendered. The answer might surprise you. For instance, I once knew a trans man who liked to be called a good girl while he was all tied up, and the girly-girliest, most femme trans girl you ever met who was daddy in the bedroom.

A trans person's relationship to their body can be a very complicated thing. A trans person wanting to share that body with another person, trans or not, is a gift. Even if it's a no-strings-attached hookup with a stranger. Vulnerability doesn't always come easy to us, so when it's offered make sure you treat it with care and respect. Especially if you'd ever like it to be offered again. Which brings us to our next lesson: touching and sensation.

There is truly nothing hotter than checking in with your partner about how they like to be touched or where they like to be touched. Even if you think the answer will be an unequivocal "yes, fuck, yes," asking before touching gives you both a moment of anticipation to enjoy and it also allows your partner (trans or not) the chance to redirect your attentions or tell you about a specific trigger of theirs. This is something you should do with everyone, and I guarantee it will make your sex life better by about 1000%. For real, ask your partner "can I put this in my mouth" or "can I touch you here" and they are going to quiver with delight.

It's extra important to do this with a trans partner because there might be ways they've been touched in the past (when presenting as a different gender) that they don't enjoy. If you have a dick, and your trans partner has one too, don't assume they enjoy the same kinds of sensations.

There are a lot of changes a trans person's body may have undergone during their monthly transformation on the night of the blood moon. Surgeries, hormones, ancient curses laid upon their bloodline. All these things have one thing in common: They're nobody's business. Don't ask about surgery, don't ask about hormones, definitely don't ask about the blood-curse. If we want to talk about any of those things, we will.

Okay, if you're not allowed to ask about them, why did I bring them up? Well, that's easy. To tell you not to bring them up. Duh. Okay, there's also another reason, and it's important -- so you and your genitals better listen up. Hormones, surgeries, lycanthropy -- these can all make physical changes to a trans person's body. So you may have thought, because of all this, I should touch a trans woman's body the way I'd touch a woman's body. And, you're right -- but the way you touch a trans person has nothing to do with the medical minutiae of their biology (and everything to do with the way they want to be touched). Which, remember, you should be discussing before and during the act. Because if they want something that you haven't thought to try, asking how they like to be touched will give them an opening to tell you.

Don't ask about surgeries. Don't ask about hormones. Don't ask about their birth or dead name. Don't ask how long they've been X, Y, or Z gender. Don't ask "did you always know?" type questions. If we want you to know any of these things, we will likely volunteer them at some point. It's not enough to pose the question and then back off and say something like "but you don't have to answer, of course," because you've then put the decision on us to deny you information. Just don't.

Secondly, don't ask us about being trans or what being trans is like. This one is mostly for cis folks. If that's a conversation we want to have, we'll bring it up. Every trans person you're ever likely to encounter has spent countless hours explaining that shit to people and it's exhausting. Most of us probably won't tell you no if you do ask these things. But I know personally that I always feel a little bit of an obligation to at least provide some kind of answer (in hopes that, if I do, they won't ask the next trans person they meet the same damn thing).

That concludes our lesson, for now. I hope this was informative, helpful, and titillating. But most of all I hope you and the trans person you're reading this about have incredible, amazing, mind-blowingly great sex.