07-10-2011, 06:12 PM
Swaying to the music, listening to its soft tune and slow beat, moving in time to his body and feeling his warmth envelope her and surround the two in their own little bubble, oblivious to those who looked upon them with curious and not so pleasant eyes. Never before had she allowed her self to be so close to another and with each passing beat of the music her guard began to fall bit by bit. This was so new; not the dancing, but the interacting so intimately with another and yet she felt at ease and happy, thoroughly enjoying herself. But all good things have to come to an end and the song seemed to be gradually reaching it’s finally.
When the song was over, she’d leave and continue on with her simple life; yes, she’d had fun, but she would never allow herself to be some weak girl who needed, depended upon some guy, no, she’d rather slit her own throat before she allowed something as horrifying as that. It was a serious complex of hers, being weak and overly feminine; depending upon a male and deserting others for a guy. Her own mother had abandoned her to the care system to run after some guy and since then she’d sworn she’d never do the same and had grown to despise the fact she herself was female like her mother. That was why she dressed and behaved the way she did.
Hearing the tune fade away and gradually come to its end, she begun to prepare and excuse so that she could leave. She felt him move, a subtle shift along his form and she looked up into his eyes expecting him to whisper in her ear once more. But once more he surprised her and before her mind had processed what was happening she found his lips upon hers and froze on the spot, her mind completely closing down upon itself.
Seconds passed and all she could do was stand their like a plank, as the gears in her mind suddenly began to work a fury filled her. Raised her arms, she placed upon palms upon his chest and shoved in an attempt to move him. The end result was feeble, her body not wanting to respond, simply wanting to curly up into a ball and not think of what had just happened.
Open her eyes, she tried her mighty best to glare at him and pulled her head away from his. A small, irrational part of her mind complaining about ending the moment. “Do you take me for some fool? S’all a game? Pick on the ‘transgendered faggot’ huh?! God, I’m such a fool!” her voice didn’t rise, for fear of attracting more attention, but the way she spoke indicated to her rising anger. Towards the end she was shaking her head slowly from side to side, somewhat in shock.
When the song was over, she’d leave and continue on with her simple life; yes, she’d had fun, but she would never allow herself to be some weak girl who needed, depended upon some guy, no, she’d rather slit her own throat before she allowed something as horrifying as that. It was a serious complex of hers, being weak and overly feminine; depending upon a male and deserting others for a guy. Her own mother had abandoned her to the care system to run after some guy and since then she’d sworn she’d never do the same and had grown to despise the fact she herself was female like her mother. That was why she dressed and behaved the way she did.
Hearing the tune fade away and gradually come to its end, she begun to prepare and excuse so that she could leave. She felt him move, a subtle shift along his form and she looked up into his eyes expecting him to whisper in her ear once more. But once more he surprised her and before her mind had processed what was happening she found his lips upon hers and froze on the spot, her mind completely closing down upon itself.
Seconds passed and all she could do was stand their like a plank, as the gears in her mind suddenly began to work a fury filled her. Raised her arms, she placed upon palms upon his chest and shoved in an attempt to move him. The end result was feeble, her body not wanting to respond, simply wanting to curly up into a ball and not think of what had just happened.
Open her eyes, she tried her mighty best to glare at him and pulled her head away from his. A small, irrational part of her mind complaining about ending the moment. “Do you take me for some fool? S’all a game? Pick on the ‘transgendered faggot’ huh?! God, I’m such a fool!” her voice didn’t rise, for fear of attracting more attention, but the way she spoke indicated to her rising anger. Towards the end she was shaking her head slowly from side to side, somewhat in shock.