Chapter 7: Words and Complications

I woke up slowly, listening to two voices whispering. I caught only small snatches of the conversation.

" ... it was safer."

" ... want breakfast?'

" ... later, maybe. Let her sleep."

I felt covered and warm, although I was a little sweaty. I had my arm across Evan's chest, and my head was tucked into his shoulder. He was facing me and our legs were intertwined. I had a general feeling of euphoria with a dull ache in my nether regions, and my arms and legs felt like spaghetti.

I pinched one of his nipples and mumbled, "G'mornin'."

He jerked in surprise and then laughed. "Good morning yourself, sleeping beauty."

"What time is it?"

"Just past eight," he replied. "Mom asked if you wanted breakfast."

"Shower first?" I asked.

"Mmm," he said. "I'll take you."

He pulled our covers off and lifted me from the bed, then carried me into the bathroom and lowered me to stand. I wobbled a little bit and his hands steadied me.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I wake up slow," I mumbled.

He turned the water on for me and left the room. I peed and stepped into the spray, anxious to feel warm again. As I soaped and washed, I felt better, but I hoped the discomfort I felt down there would fade in a day or so.

I stepped out and dried off, then wrapped the towel around my waist and went to the bedroom. There wasn't any need to be modest; he'd seen my tits and everything else.

He was changing the sheets and remaking the bed, so I helped him until it was done. I dressed in the same clothes I'd had on the night before, I hadn't thought to bring extras. After a quick brush of my hair, he led me into the kitchen where something smelled very good.

Trisha smiled at me and said, "Good morning."

I smiled in return and blushed. Evan held a chair for me and I sat down.

Breakfast was waffles and blueberry syrup, with plenty of cold milk and gobs of butter. The conversation was light and easy, mostly questions or comments about school or hobbies. Trisha made no mention of finding me in her son's bed. After we helped by washing the dishes, Evan walked me home. His mom had to work that night, and she'd said she needed her sleep.

At my house, Dad and Mom were still at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and reading the paper.

Dad said, "Hi honey," and kissed my cheek, turned to Evan and shook his hand. "Welcome. Coffee?"

Evan said, "No thanks," and flushed that particular hue I'd learned was fear.

I said, "Hi Mom. We'll be in my room, okay?" grabbed his arm and led him away.

Inside my room with the door shut, Evan asked, "Do they know?"

"My mom does for sure, and I think she's told my dad by now."

"Oh shit!" he blurted.

I held him close and said, "No need to worry, they're okay with it. It was my decision."

"They let you do things like that?" he asked, his eyes wide in wonder.

"Why not?" I said. "It's my body, I can choose who I share it with."

He kissed me and whispered into my ear, "And a wonderful body it is. Last night was ... was..."

"Yeah, it was," I laughed.

I had plans for some serious conversation with Evan, and I didn't want to be distracted. I left Evan in my room looking at cassettes and went to find my mother. I found her dressing to go out, and asked permission for Evan to stay for a while. Their plans were shopping for the afternoon, which would leave us alone. Mom raised her brows at me in the unspoken question, 'are you going to have sex?' and I replied with a negative shake of my head. I was still too sore to do much but kiss and cuddle.

When I returned to my room, I locked my door on the off chance my dad would poke his head inside to say goodbye; he wasn't nearly as conscious of my privacy as Mom. With that done, I turned to Evan and took off my clothes down to my panties.

I sprawled on my bed and said, "Let's talk."

Shyly, he took off his shoes, climbed onto the bed beside me and hugged me.

"I prefer you without all those things in the way," I grinned.

Blushing, he took off everything but his boxers and lay down beside me again.

"Better?"

"Much," I replied.

Evan was tall and slender, with wide shoulders and a narrow waist. He wasn't built like a football player, all muscle and brawn, but rather like a swimmer, sleek and smooth. There was a tiny patch of brown hair in the center of his chest, and a like amount under his arms. His pubes were sparse like mine, but he did have a narrow line of strands leading from the top of his bush to his belly button. I thought he was gorgeous.

We started kissing and cuddling, rekindling our passion. I reminded myself not to let it go too far.

About noon, I peeked out of my room and found the house empty, so I went to the kitchen and got us some cokes and snacks. We ended up on the bed with the food between us, sitting as we'd been the night before. Evan was the first to speak.

He swallowed a bite of cracker and asked, "Last night, you did something inside that squeezed me. How did you do that?"

"Totally involuntarily," I said. "When I climax, my puss has a mind of its own."

"Did it feel good to you?"

"I almost passed out, remember?" I said, smiling.

"Yeh," he grunted.

I kept glancing at various parts of his body, taking mental photos to remember when I was away from him, and I'm sure he was doing the same to me. I caught him staring at my boobies more than once, and though he lowered his eyes and blushed a little each time, I'm certain he liked them.

We finished our snacks and cuddled down on the bed, with me tucked under his arm and my breasts against his chest.

Softly, I said, "Can I ask you a personal question?" I felt him nod, and asked, "Still feel like you want to be female?"

"I really can't say for sure," he said. "Part of me wants to be loved and be on the receiving end of things, and part of me doesn't."

"Why did you hook up with Russell?" I asked gently.

He took a deep breath and exhaled. His head was down and his brow was furrowed; I knew he was thinking about what to say. I remained silent, unwilling to push. After a time, he started to talk.

"Russell made me feel ... safe. I was in a new school, I didn't have any friends, and I was afraid. I'm not very strong and I don't look very masculine, so I looked for a way to protect myself."

"Did he protect you?"

"From some of the football players once, but after that he threatened to give me to them if I didn't do what he wanted."

I hugged him tighter and muttered, "I'm sorry. I wish I'd been there for you."

"You're here now," he said.

I looked up and his eyes were full of tears. It felt awkward to remind him. All I could do was hug him and kiss his chest.

We calmed after a bit, and then he asked me, "What about you? Why do you like girls?"

I giggled. " 'Cause they're soft and gentle, they know how hard to touch — and where — and they take their time making love."

"Men don't do that?"

"Most men have to be trained," I said. "With women, it's instinct. We know."

"I didn't hurt you last night, did I?" he asked.

"No, you didn't. That's 'cuz you're different from most men."

"How?" he asked curiously.

"You're more gentle, more ... attuned to a woman's needs and wants. At least I think so."

"Is that because I let my feminine side show?" he wanted to know.

"Probably," I agreed.

We cuddled for a few minutes more, and then he moved away from me and positioned me on my back. He pushed my arm up and kissed my armpit close to the edge of my breast, lingering there for a few seconds.

"That hair is really sexy, you know?"

"Don't get any wild ideas, buster. I'm still a little tender down there."

"I know, and I'm sorry. Do you mind if just worship your body instead?"

I laughed. "Worship? I'm pudgy, I don't shave like other girls, and you want to worship?"

"Yeah," he breathed. "You're perfect. You're plush, not pudgy. Gives me something to hold on to. The hair is just another added attraction. I think you're beautiful."

I blushed pink with the compliment and said, "I think I'd like that very much."