*This is a teaser for a longer story. Posting to gauge interest in this kind of thing and receive feedback. Let me know what you think and whether you’d want to see more!*
“It’s okay, you know, we can stop if you want to.” He drew his head back and looked down at me with concern. He must have been able to tell I was terrified. Gently, he took his hand off of my top, where it had been cupping my breast.
“It’s — it’s not that, not really, I’m just…” I trailed off, not sure how to articulate what I was feeling. I pushed myself a few inches back and swung my legs over the side of the couch. Looking down, I stared at my socks.
I was telling the truth. I didn’t want to *stop,* not really, even though I did feel a little better now that he wasn’t on top of me and we were just talking. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what–” I felt my voice catch in my throat. *I don’t know what’s wrong with me.* “I like you a lot, you –” *You shouldn’t have to deal with this. Some stupid teenage trans girl you’ve barely been on three dates with having a breakdown in your apartment for no reason.* “I feel like I’m ruin–” I felt my lip trembling, and I realized I was starting to cry.
“Hey, hey, Allie, it’s okay,” he began, clearly having realized the same. As the first tears started rolling down my cheek, I felt a hand tentatively brush against my shoulder. “Can I?” Sniffling, I nodded, grateful for the gesture, even though I was sure he didn’t want to have to be doing this. He wrapped his arm around my back and shoulder, resting it on me. I liked it.
“God. Sorry. This isn’t how you wanted to spend your Friday night,” I said, still avoiding his eyes. “It’s just… I’m new to this, you know?”
He looked “New to…?”
I knew what he was thinking. “I’m not a virgin or anything. Actually, I guess I am. With — with guys.”
He looked a little taken aback. “Oh.”
“I’m really sorry, I really don’t know what I’m doing. I should’ve, I don’t know, I should’ve said something.” I rubbed my eyes with my sleeve.
“No, it’s okay, I just — I was a little surprised. I get it.”
I looked up at him and met his eyes. “Thanks. I’m sorry about tonight. I should go, right?”
“I mean, you don’t have to. Do you want to?”
“Not really.”
“What do you wanna do?”
“I don’t know.” I was silent for a second, then — “Do you have any alcohol?”
“I thought you said your 21st wasn’t until December.” He grinned at me. I giggled a little, grateful for the gentle tease, feeling my mood lighten. I was definitely not crying anymore, which was a start. He got up and went to the kitchen, returning a moment later with a tall bottle of wine.
I felt a lot more talkative after a glass and a half. I tried to make sure he understood that I was really, really into him, and I was really looking forward to being intimate tonight, and that I still wanted to.
“I just, um, I don’t know how to be sexy, like, as a girl, with a guy. I kind of panicked and froze up. Like, I’m really worried I’m not doing the right thing and I just wanna feel hot and desirable and then in the moment all I can think about is how boring and unsexy I’m being if that makes sense. I just can’t, like, it doesn’t come naturally to me, I don’t know what’s the right thing.”
“That makes sense. You weren’t being unsexy. But I understand.” He studied me. Maybe the wine was making him feel a little bolder, too, because he said — “Would it help if I told you what to do?”
*Oh my god.* “I, uh, wh-what do you mean?” I stammered out. I knew more or less what he meant, though. I didn’t hate the idea.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/mu9ngf/first_time_cis_mtrans_f_light_ds