Page 21 of Lust

My blood thickens at his words, but I’m too hot to care. My skin is on fire.

“I’m having a fever!” I choke out, pulling at the buttons at the front of my handmade dress. I guess I pull too hard, or I didn’t sew it together well enough because the buttons ping off, peppering the floor. I should feel embarrassment, but the coolness of the breeze whipping through the opened window sooths my skin. Deciding I give more of a shit about my own comfort than what Felix thinks about me, I pull the flowery dress off and throw it to the floor in a sweat soaked pile. The bliss of the cool air hits me and I let out a long sigh.

Felix is off the sofa in seconds, the magazine dropping onto the hardwood as he sprints across to the other side of the room, his eyes wide with horror.

“I’m wearing underwear. It’s nothing you’ve not seen at any beach,” I say defensively. Now that I think about it, perhaps I have been a bit rash.

He glares at me in abject horror.

“There’s something wrong with me,” I blurt. “I’m not trying to seduce you, you cretin.” Even as I say it, I feel my panties dampen at the thought.

“Might want to tell that to your fucking nipples,” he snaps, pointing in my direction. “Stay the fuck back.”

Holy fucking hell!I look down and see what I already know. My nipples are pointing right through the thin material of my bra. My skin is flushed and damp.

I’m turned on.

Kill me now!

It’s not a feeling I’m used to. I slept with a couple of girls when I was in my late teens, hating every second of it. Then I slept with guys I met in gay bars and hated that too. None of it was authentic because I wasn’t authentic. After my transition, I haven’t slept with anyone. In this body, I’m a virgin. I thought that I’d magically meet the right man and everything would come together naturally, but it never happened and I just don’t think of sex in the same way Juliette does. I’ve spent my life thinking my body is broken and now, of all times, it’s decided it very much does work. I’ve never been more mortified in my life. I rush out of the room and douse my head under the kitchen tap. It’s soothing, but not in the places that need soothing.

My pussy has decided at the worst time possible to come to life. I’m horny. I know it’s nothing to do with Felix in the other room and everything to do with the stupid effed up games, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to go in there and rip his cock off to use it as a dildo. I can’t contemplate any more than that. I can’t actually have sex with him. I literally would rather grow dicks all over my body than ask for Felix for help, but with every second the pressure is mounting and I can’t take it anymore.

The cold water isn’t helping. I’d need Niagara falls to smother the flames of want and need consuming my body.

My hands skim over my breasts, sending shockwaves down to my core. I let out a strangled sound that I’m sure I’ve never made before and slide them down to my panties.

I pray with everything I have that Felix doesn’t decide to walk in right now. I’m already completely mortified that he can hear this. If he were to see it… I don’t even want to know what might happen. People like Felix Barclay can’t deal with people like me in any situation that might turn sexual. And this is about as sexual as it gets. Having him near me in the state I’m in is putting myself at an incredible risk. Homophobic, transphobic assholes in positions of power are the fucking worst, especially when they are backed in to a corner. Best-case scenario, he’ll stay in his corner, frightened of what I’m going through and will either never speak of this again, or tease me mercilessly for evermore. Worst case, and the one that’s most likely to happen, he’ll project all this on to him, feel threatened and lash out, hurting me. I’ve seen it play out hundreds of times, in situations much less intense than this.

As the tension deepens, I change my mind and hope he will come in and kill me, if only so I don’t have to put up with the unrelenting tension.

My hand snakes under the cotton panties, but I don’t know what to do. I’m terrified. I’ve never done this to myself.

Felix appears at the door and immediately grabs for one of the big knives I left out on the kitchen table for chopping up the veggies. His face is full of unrelenting anger. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Madness clouds his eyes as he stares at me, the knife between us at arm’s length. I know what I must look like to him. I’m a complete mess, red and wet and crying tears of frustration. One hand is in my panties, unable to move, the other is gripping the edge of the sink for support.

“Stop it!” he demands. His voice is full of loathing and venom, and probably no less than I deserve. I wouldn’t particularly like it if this was happening to him in my presence. It’s only a little gratifying that his hand holding the knife is shaking.

“I’m not doing this. I’m not doing anything,” I cry out, all confidence and bravado out the window along with any dignity I might have had when I first stepped in here.

“Disgusting bitch. Stop!” His eyes are manic, his voice like ice.

“Don’t you think I want to?” I scream. “I can’t stop, because I can’t start. I’ve never done this before.”

If my cheeks were red to begin with, I’m pretty sure they’ve gone nuclear now.

He’s as panicked as I am. “What the actual fuck!? I’m not doing anything!”

As if I’d ask him to. “Plainly!” Arousal is hitting me like a roller coaster, pulsing through my clit. The desire to touch it, to do anything to stop the relentless need, is overwhelming, but I can’t. Not when he’s here, watching me like I might literally explode. The way the fire is coursing through my veins, that might actually happen.

“Can’t you do something? Turn it off?” Felix asks, clearly exasperated by my situation.

“I’m not a fucking stove, Felix,” I grit out between clenched teeth. “This has never happened to me before and I don’t know what to do.” My knees finally give out and the only thing that’s holding me up is my arm that is slowly beginning to slip from the sink edge.

Felix runs his hands through his hair, gripping it as though he’s about to pull chunks of it out, “Jesus, fuck. Do whatever you guys do and stop it.”

Hot frustrated tears pour down my face and now I can add anger into the mix. There’s no way I’m going to get it through to him that I’m anatomically a woman without showing him. I pull my hand from my panties and grab one side of the soft fabric, pulling them down to my ankles. The movement is too much and my hand holding onto the sink finally slips off, sending me crashing to the floor, falling into a position that shows him way more than I expected.

---