Inside Those Eyes

"I'm so sorry, Mark. I-I just can't do this."

"It's okay, I didn't mean to force anything on you, are you okay?"

"You didn't force anything on me, but you deserve to know! I'm... I'm not like other girls.."

"What? What do you mean?"

"I'm sorry, but... but, I was born a boy."

I was in shock. This didn't make any sense. This had to be some kind of a joke.

She was a girl, of course she was a girl! Her voice, her face, her body, her breasts, she had to be a girl! I processed this, her tears reinforcing the truth in her confession.

"I don't get it."

"I'm trans, Mark. I grew up a boy. My name used to be Tyler." She said the name with a sense of disgust. She said it with vitriol I couldn't understand.

I wanted to comfort her. I wanted to force her to make sense of this. I wanted to throw up. I was torn, between this wonderful girl sobbing in front of me, and the boy she used to be. I felt upset. At myself, for not making her feel safe at a time like this. At her, for hiding this. At the world. I finally found a good thing, and in its' zeal, the world threw a curveball like this at me.

"I'm... You should leave."

Without a word, she rose from the couch, a timid tone to every movement. Through stifled sobs, she made her way to the door. When it slammed, I felt as though it brought the building down around me. I was crushed. I wanted to cry, I wanted to yell, I wanted to hit something. The weight of the revelation, combined with the food on my stomach, eventually lulled me to an uneasy sleep.

I awoke, in the morning, surrounded with the aftermath. Every part of the environment reminded me of the night before. The indents in the couch, the set of bowls and cups on the coffee table, they served as brutal reminders of what we had been through.

I slipped into a deep depression, missing classes, ignoring phone calls, neglecting to shower or eat. It all felt meager, in comparison. I didn't want to face the world. I didn't want to face Jamie. In my head, a conflict raged on. I felt terrible for the way I treated her, and I felt angry. I felt disgusted. The only word that seemed to fit, was hurt. I felt hurt. For days, I wrestled with my thoughts, my mind full of bear traps, and the incessant, loud shouting of archaic viewpoints.

I ate only enough to moderate the pain, I showered once every 3 or 4 days; I was a mess. Time lost meaning, the world seemed grey and soulless, the world seemed so inconsequential. Eventually, my dormmate got overly concerned, or tired of my new habits, I couldn't tell which.

"Mark, are you in there?" A quiet, consistent knock followed his prompt.

"Yeah, I'm here..."

"Can I come in?"

"Sure, whatever.."

The door creaked open, letting in the first light my room had seen in weeks. Trey walked in, well dressed, carrying a bottle of water and a bag of Sunchips.

"To say I've noticed your behavior would be an understatement. I know you haven't been taking care of yourself. I'm not leaving until you eat this." He thrust the Sunchips into my chest, clearly worried. I lay there, nearly motionless, still thinking about that fateful night.

"What's going on, Mark? Did something happen at the party??"

I held stoic for a while longer.

"Whatever happened, you can tell me. Whatever it is, we can fix it."

I broke. The facade fell. I became a mess of tears, leaping into Trey's arms. He was taken aback, but tentatively wrapped his arms around me, hoping to console me and make sense of what I had been doing.

Through the tears, I managed to tell him her name.

"Who's Jamie??"

"I met her the day of the party. I ran into her outside... We met again at the party, and we ended up back here that night."

"What went wrong?"

"Everything was going fine, until... until..."

"Until what?"

"Until she told me she was born a fucking boy!"

"Woah. What happened??"

"She left, left me with all these conflicting feelings."

He seemed just as stunned as I was about it. He clearly had questions of his own, questions I knew I didn't have the answers to. In the quiet, he considered them carefully, and made up his mind to just ask.

"What feelings? Are you... are you gay? Do you care? Do you still like her?"

"I don't know. I don't think I'm gay. I don't think I care, either. I've been thinking about her, about how badly I reacted, since."

"If you're gay, or whatever, it's okay. I'm not judging you. It sounds like she really matters to you."

I was at a loss. I never would have thought Trey would be the voice of reason. Filled with a new desire, I scarfed down the chips, and began to sip on the water. I thanked Trey for the nourishment, and told him I needed a shower.

He agreed, still tender in his responses, but trying to introduce comedy. I spent all too long in the shower, trying to clear my head. I felt a sense of purpose, getting ready to leave the house. Getting clean, presentable. Once I was dressed, I went to thank Trey. It was awkward, but wholesome. Neither of us were quite ready to make eye contact, but we both understood the situation. We were both okay with our new dynamic.

I walked out of our dorm room, and went to Jamie's. I knocked on the door, fighting shame and hesitation. Jamie opened the door slowly, almost as if she was afraid I would hurt her. I didn't have a lot of power in my voice, having lost my resolve as soon as I saw her. I asked, quietly, if I could come in.

"Are you sure you want to have this conversation?"

I steeled myself, remembering why I was here. What was on the line. "I'm sure," I said gently, but with purpose.

The door opened, and I crossed the threshold. It was symbolic, in a way. Like I had done yet another irreversible thing. Like I had stepped into a world of feelings I never had to worry about before, and that I couldn't leave again. Jamie stood there, seemingly ready to be verbally assaulted. After a moment, I found my nerve.

"I... I wanted to tell you how sorry I am, about what happened that night. I reacted terribly. I don't think of you any differently, you're still the sweet girl I ran into in the hall, the same sweet girl I spoke with at the party... the same girl I locked lips with. I don't know if I can ever make it right, but I do want you to know I'm truly sorry."

She stood there a moment, working her way through what I had just said. She couldn't help but cry. She didn't have to say it; I understood. She felt relief. She felt like someone could see past what she was. Like it would be okay. I moved in to hug her, overcome with the instinct to protect her. To make her feel safe. I wanted her to stop crying, it hurt me to see her in this light. I wanted to see her happy, jubilant, interested. Not broken. She started to explain.

"You don't know what it means for me to hear that. I fought with that for most of my life. I never thought I'd have someone. But, I never got to explain. I don't-"

"You don't have to explain. I don't care what you have, or what you don't have. I came here for you, whatever you have."

At this, she fell into my chest. I felt a sense of solidarity, happy that I could be her bastion, one more time. It seemed like all was right with the world, in that moment.

But the physical contact began to affect me. My groin stirred to life, straining against my jeans. I knew she could feel it, but I didn't know what that would mean, right now. Would it cheapen the moment? Would she take it as a sign of my sincerity?

"I can feel it. It's so warm. Are you sure you want this?"

In lieu of answering, I pressed my lips to hers, that softness sending sparks through my body. I wanted her. I wanted all of her. I didn't care what all of her meant, it was no longer a concern.

With a renewed ferocity, I pulled her top off over her head, noting the soft skin it concealed. I wrapped my arms around her, and undid her bra, letting my eyes wander to her small, perfect breasts. Before either of us could stop to think, I lifted her and carried her into her bedroom. I laid her as gently as I could on the bed, struggling to say subdued. I didn't want to hurt her. But my restraint was dwindling.

I, once again, reached for her zipper. This time, she grabbed my wrist.

"This is your last chance to back out. I'd understand if you did"

We shared a gaze, everything seemed to fade away, as yet another revelation hit me.

There was simply no way around it. I was hooked, from the instant I saw those wondrous eyes. Looking at me with simultaneous fear, and intrigue. I think she was afraid of something. Of me? Afraid that I would suddenly realize that this wasn't right.

In that moment, I wanted to console her, to tell her that I was content. Though, the words were caught in my throat. What could I have said to her? All I could come up with were hollow platitudes, and she meant so much more than that. I quickly realized that speaking wasn't going to solve anything, and decided to let my body make the point, for me.

I undid the buttons on her pants, and slowly slid the zipper down. As I worked the pants down her slender legs, it came into view. Inside her panties, it stood at attention. It practically begged to be released. It wasn't very large, standing at about 5 inches, thin enough to be feminine. It looked so soft, so cute, so delicious. I couldn't stop now; I was transfixed. I had to have her. I lowered my mouth, taking just the tip in. She whimpered, writhing under my weight, halfheartedly pushing me off with her hand. The sounds, the movements, they only emboldened me. I took another inch into my mouth, and slowly started to work back and forth. I had never given a guy head before, so this was very new, but it felt natural. With Jamie, it felt right. I ran my tongue along her tip, looking for the best moans, the best whimpers, the best responses. With each downstroke, I took a little more of her in, until my nose touched her hips. I maintained a slow pace, relishing the way I was making her feel. The heat of her dick, how it radiated through my mouth. I would occasionally swirl my tongue around, enjoying the sounds she couldn't help but make. My pleasure wasn't important, hers meant everything right now. I started to speed up, gliding my mouth effortlessly back and forth. With what strength she had left, she tapped me weakly on the shoulder.

"I'm gonna cum..."

I tried to speak, to tell her it was okay, but I had her buried to the hilt in my mouth. The attempt to speak, transformed into vibrations, and when I heard the whimper it had elicited, I continued to create the vibrations, speeding up all the while.

The next thing I felt, was her hand in my ruffled hair, her legs locking up, her breathing becoming shallow and erratic. I took as much of her in as I could, and the warmth of her cum enveloped my mouth. Shot after shot, noises I didn't know she could make echoed through the room. I maintained my speed and kept going, not letting her escape the pleasure. When the pulses stopped, I finally relented. I swallowed as much as I could, throughout, but I couldn't keep up, and some of it hit her perfectly flat tummy as I pulled my head up. I looked at her, only to find her hair a mess. Her eyes, half-closed, radiated a sexual glow.

In that moment, I felt an intense pride. I had given her an earthshaking orgasm. She was laying there, unable to move, save for a few shakes and shudders, because of me. I was overwhelmed with the urge to caress her, to make her feel wanted again. I had hoped this would make up for my less-than-graceful reaction to her, two weeks ago. I had a feeling she'd see it my way, when she could talk.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Hey guys! This was my first story, and I know it's strange, and niche, but I hope to refine my writing over the next few stories, and criticism is very welcome. Thanks, if you made it this far :) - Gum