Misguided Affections

"I really am sorry, Chris, you know I didn't mean it that way."

I sat on the edge of our shared bed, stroking the short black hair of the diminutive woman beside me, her petite 4 foot eight body occasionally juddering with small sniffs and sobs, her tiny chest still rising and falling forcefully against my own C-cup breast, my almost full foot taller body dwarfing her form. She was still a in a bad way, but was at least overall significantly calmed from the mess she'd been just a little while ago. I really did feel like shit about this; Chris, my lover, was sitting beside me, her wide brown eyes swollen red with the remnants of backed-up tears, and it was, at least in part, my fault.

Chris had arrived home from her Friday evening classes at the local community college later than usual -- she'd sent me a message telling me she'd be a bit behind, apparently intent on getting her hair cut on the way back. I'd teased her about her unruly mane a little over the last few days, having been allowed to grow out unchecked during the summer months; Chris had never been known to get out much, at least in the year and a half I'd known her, and while I'd been more than happy to keep her wild unkempt head of black, slightly curly hair all to myself while she hunkered down in defiance of the season's light, it did seem time to sort things out for the public, and she did tend to need a bit of persuasion to get those kinds of things done.

So, as I stepped out of the shower at seven, dried myself off, wrapped a towel around my ample breast, and entered my bedroom to grab some underwear and my onesie, there was no shock of panic when I heard a clattering at the door to our shared apartment, the jangling of keys, and the creaking of the hinges as it swung open down the hall. "Chris?" I yelled out the door, my voice chipper and fresh after my refreshing rinse. "I'm in here, babe! I just got out of the shower, be out there in a sec!"

I had flopped my butt down on the bed, scarcely having pulled up my sky blue panties before Chris's voice came drifting in from just outside our bedroom door. "Dani? C...can I come in?", she had questioned me, her voice sounding meek and tenuous, the voice coming out the Chris usually reserved for when out in public, rather than the direct, comfortable tone I had grown used to hearing when we were in private together. "Yeah, of course", my reply came; "Are you ok? You sound a little..."

My words caught in my throat for a moment, rendering me mute as the door to our room gradually swung open, revealing Chris's form standing scrunched even smaller than usual in the entrance, her head bowed to avoid making eye contact. My voice threatened to return, but this time I was the one who caught it, stifling the sudden desire to smile, stuffing the single laugh that threatened to escape my lips back where it came from.

It was immediately obvious what had gone wrong for Chris. Her hair, previously long and bushy and a bit snarly around her shoulders, had clearly fallen victim to an overzealous barber. It was cropped short, very short, close to her head, barely sticking out from her scalp, its length not even long enough to display her signature curls. It looked, I thought, almost like an intentionally ironic change, like she had fully embraced the lesbian lifestyle and wanted to display it to the world -- but, knowing her, what had probably happened was the stylist started cutting it short and she was too meek and terrified to correct her.

"I...I told them I wanted to look good for you"..., Chris croaked out, still avoiding eye contact. "I...I mentioned you told me to get a haircut, maybe change my look so I didn't look like a recluse for the new year, and she started talking about cuts, and I didn't know, I just kept saying yes, and then she started cutting and it seemed like it was too late to say anything and she just kept going and..."

I had jumped off the bed, walking over to Chris, reaching my arms out and petting her much more accessible head as she crumpled against my arms, cooing softly into her ear as she let her words wash away, instead clutching against me, her neck and head squeezing against my collarbone and the towel draped across my breast. She could get this way occasionally, especially around the start of semesters, the stress taking a toll and letting relatively small things shake her up. I'd been caught off guard by it at first; we'd met through a mutual friend halfway through her sophomore and my junior year, and one particularly stressful midterm had brought her to her discharge point with me the sole outlet available. It had quickly become evident, however, that all Chris really needed was a bit of coddling and human contact to get back to her normal self. It was actually how we ended up hooking up in the first place; she hadn't ever been super forthcoming about her past experience, or relationships, or much of anything, but Chris was an absolute sucker for tender love, and I'd been instantly infatuated by her gentle, needy personality.

"There, there", I had sappily intoned to Chris, guiding her over to our bed, rubbing her back as we went. "It's no big deal. It'll grow back before you know it. It's not even bad looking, honestly; I know you think it's not you, but you might even grow to like it."

"That's not true", mumbled Chris. "It's ugly, and I hate it, and it's too short, and I just want to stay here with you Dani, I'm not going to go to school next week, I can't, I can't be seen like this."

I snorted at that. She really knew how to lay on the melodrama when it counted. "Aw, c'mon girl", I chided as I sat her down on the bed. "Plenty of other women couples go for looks just like that. Hell, I've considered having it done myself a few times". At that, I scrunched up my straight brown hair in a fist behind my head, pantomiming the look as best I could. Chris looked sidelong at me, a bit amused. Encouraged, I had continued. I rubbed my legs together sensually, rocked my shoulders back and forth. I danced the index and middle fingers of my spare hand up her leg coyly, doing my best bedroom eyes for her. "I bet it'd be great for roleplaying. I'd look positively boyish."

Chris recoiled as if stung, her eyes widening and staring at me with apparent shock. I quickly withdrew my hand, furiously backpedaling. "I...I'm sorry, Chris? If you're not in the mood, I'm sorry for forcing myself on you like that. Really, it's ok, we can just go make some food and...and watch a sad movie and-"

"You think I look boyish?" Chris squeaked, her voice wavering. My face scrunched in sudden realization, my assumption of the issue clearly a mistaken one. My word choice had, obviously, been quite poor, all my progress dashed in an instant.

"No, babe, of course not, you're a beautiful woman and I never meant to imp-"

"But that's what you said, isn't it?" Chris had said, looking me straight in the eye this time, her wide brown orbs teeming with tears on the verge of being unleashed, her voice a bit more accusatory this time. "That the haircut was boyish. That it would make me look like a guy."

"I am so, so sorry, hun", I said, desperately drawing her again into my warm embrace. I reiterated that sentiment over and over, whispered it into her ear, made sure she knew time and time again that it was only a haircut, I'd never meant to hurt her, that I loved her as a woman and would never want anyone else. Her emotions bubbled over and again found release within my arms, this time spilling over and out of her eyes, down her cheeks, coating my arms as I rocked her side to side. I felt horrible; I knew, and I knew she knew, that I'd never intentionally hurt her, but it still pained me to know I'd failed to calm her down this time. "Though, really", I thought to myself, "That was a pretty innocuous statement. Must be something there. It might be for the best to get this sort of laundry aired now."

Her sobs had finally slowed to sniffs, her tears to a drizzle of snot running down her lips and my arm; gently, taking care not to shift her, I reached off the side of my bed to the countertop holding our reading lamp, tugging a tissue from the box laid on top of it and wiping Chris's face -- her face lifted at that, looking me in the eye again and smiling a bit.

"I'm sorry too, Dani", Chris finally squeaked, slumping against my shoulder as if she couldn't hold herself up any more. "It's not fair of me to keep putting this on you. I know you didn't mean it like that."

I let her speak, saying nothing, just continuing to rock her. Nothing was going to stop my girl from getting this out this time.

"It's just, you know...It was hard. I'm tiny, and I hardly have breasts, and I was never really pretty in the same way the others girls were, and I was always kind of meek and we were poor and I usually got t-shirts and hand-me-downs from my older brother and..."

I squeezed her a bit harder.

"I...they used to make fun of me for it. The girls, and the boys too occasionally. It died down in high school, but I tried asking a g...guy out once and..."

My ears perked up a bit at that one, and I couldn't help but interject. "Guy?"

Chris nodded a bit in my arms, sniffing hard to clear her nose. "D...don't worry though. I love you, Dani, I liked boys when I was in high school, but when I met you I...I realized I liked girls too. I'm never, ever gonna leave you for someone else, woman or man."

As if to reassure me, she shifted a bit in my arms, pushing them apart enough to wiggle her way up and kiss me on the cheek. I'd bristled a bit, but that was all it took to melt me back down; I just couldn't get mad at the girl. Though there would be some grilling for other juicy secrets later on. I didn't want to get blindsided by some secret fetish of hers down the road.

"Anyway, he told me I was too boyish, that he was going to try asking Ashlynn out. Which, y'know, stung, because Ashlynn was one of the people that made fun of me, and said Chris was a boy's name, that I should be named Christine or something, and I guess it just kinda stuck with me and then you said that word and it wasn't even directed at me really but it still hurt and I was already thinking it and I just..."

Feeling her body start to shake again, I grabbed her shoulders firmly, eliciting a slight start of surprise as I dragged Chris sideways down onto our bed, staring directly into her eyes as we lay on the cushion beneath us.

"Chris", I said, "You never have been and never will be a man. You're the most beautiful young woman I've ever known. You don't need to be anyone but yourself, you don't have to worry about what I think of you, and you sure as shit don't have to worry about what some assholes from 5 years ago thought of you anymore."

At that, I leaned in and returned the kiss, lightly contacting against Chris's forehead for but a second before withdrawing and giving her my brightest smile. She returned it, then, suddenly, shot her own arms out, embracing me tightly as she mashed her face against mine, clasping her delicate lips against mine for a good five seconds, shocking me with her sudden and uncharacteristic forwardness, but quickly guiding me into reciprocating.

Finally, we separated, Chris giggling a bit as she pulled back. She stuck her own hands out, one threading a finger through my hair, twirling it around and around to tightly wind it into a bunch, the other goose-stepping across the upright side of my right breast. "Boy-ish, huh?" she muttered, mockingly distending her lips and overemphasizing the syllables, in obvious parody of my earlier gaffe. "You want to make it up to me? Let's do it."

"Uh?"

"Let's DO it!" Chris again repeated, more forcefully this time, pressing her twin fingers into my breast to emphasize. "You think I'm so BOY-ISH, huh? Well, let's see how you like it. Let's roleplay. Like you said."

That got my attention. It was rare indeed for Chris to take the initiative, rarer still for her to opt for something kinky, even something as mundane as power play. Encouraged by the positive change of tone, I reciprocated eagerly. "Oh, you want boyish, huh? I can give you boyish", I gruffly spoke, using my best husky voice, sticking my bottom lip out in a poor attempt at maledom. "Hell, I'll give you the full manly package!", shifting my body to support myself on my left shoulder, doing my best mock flex, staring deep into my flimsy bicep before looking back towards Chris, my eyebrows fluttering as if to invite some undeserved praise.

Chris rolled her eyes. "No, macho man," she intoned sarcastically, no trace of negative emotion in her voice any more, sitting up on her haunches and using her relative height to push my arm back down. "Boyish is more than enough. You're gonna pop a vein trying to show off all that vascularity."

"I'm gonna POP something", I whispered sultrily, adding unnecessary emphasis, convinced of my cleverness as I darted my eyes from her face to her crotch a few times more than necessary to get my meaning across. I reached out for her, shifting my weight forward as I rolled onto my knees -- but, just as I grasped for her, she hopped daintily off the bed, my hand darting out in an attempt to grab her but missing, pulling my body forward and nearly sending me head-first off the end of the bed as it did.

"I TOLD you", Chris pouted, hands on her hips, pressing her face towards mine and forcing me to look up at her. "BOY-ish. Not man-ish. You don't get to act all SUAVE and MANLY and TACTLESS. You don't get to pop anything of mine tonight. You..."

Chris leaned over my body, grabbing at the towel still wrapped around myself and trying to punctuate her sentence with a dramatic pull. Seeing as it WAS still wrapped around myself, she failed. Not for lack of trying, of course, but there's only so much someone her size can do. I craned my head back, smirking as she squeaked with effort, trying to pry the fabric out from under me; after a few attempts, I lifted my body off the bed again, bracing myself on its edge, allowing her to finally stumble back with the towel in hand.

"Me?" I guided, straining to lower my voice even more.

"Yes, YOU." Chris said, crossing her arms and pouting at her failed dramatics. "You're the inexperienced one here. I'm gonna show you just exactly how a woman-"

She pulled off her shirt with an awkward flourish, not yet having given up on the overwrought acting.

"Handles a boy in bed." At that, she stuck her chest out, her white bra barely sticking out on her minuscule chest. "Me, learn from a womanly goddess like you?", I gasped in mock surprise, this time speaking in a voice even higher than my norm. "Oh, what have I EVER done to deser-"

"Yeah, mm-hmm, laugh it up, cherry boy", Chris spat impatiently, clearly getting both very comfortable and VERY direct. Where had she picked that one up from? "I'm gonna show you just how it's done. Now strip. Your mistress orders it!"

"Oh, my MISTRESS now, is it?" I hooked my finger onto my underwear and scootched them down along my legs as I righted myself, doing my best to maintain a sexy pose on the bed as I did so. Ok, so this was different, but hey, Chris getting this into things couldn't be a bad thing. She'd started out a dead fish during sex, and had only recently really started getting playful with me; I'd had no issue with meek, needy Chris, but if she wanted to take the initiative, more power to her. Truth be told, I'd been in the mood for a while -- seeing her acting so adorable always did something to me, and as I squirmed my legs against the bed, trying to push my undies further down, the cool evening air danced prominently against my girlhood, acting noticeably upon it as its heat was exposed to the world.

"Now, get closer!", Chris stamped, stretching up as tall as she could go to command as much authority as she could muster. She pointed to the edge of the bed. "Now!"

I giggled, allowing my body to slide down the bed and letting my legs hang over the side, my underwear hanging off my foot and falling to the ground. I laid back, but that didn't feel quite right; I stuck a hand out behind me to grab a pillow, shoving it under my head to give me some support, then laid back down, spreading my legs wide for the slight girl before me.

Chris gazed down at me, doing her best to scrunch her adorable face into what, I think, was supposed to be a look of disgust. She knelt down, studying and scrutinizing my crotch from multiple angles as she swayed her head from side to side. Finally, she reached a single finger out...and poked my pelvis.

"Not much to speak of down here, is there?" She snorted dismissively.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, MISTRESS. It's just all so much. Why don't you see if you can't get some activity going? I'm sure it'll perk right up."

Chris's nose flared, clearly annoyed at her continued lack of authority. Obviously she didn't find the suggestion to be a bad one, though, as she suddenly stuck her face into my crotch, completely foregoing our usual routine.

I yelped, startled, but then sat back, allowing her to work. It wasn't often that I got to be on the receiving end of things, and I might as well enjoy it, since it seemed the roleplaying was done for the moment. Usually I had to guide Chris's hand into myself partway through things; it really was quite uncommon for her to take the offensive. In fact, I couldn't even remember the last time she went down on --

I yelped again. Chris was up to something very not-kosher down there.

"Babe, what on earth are -- ow!" I whimpered, looking down at Chris. The little weirdo was nibbling at my labia. Not hard, but teeth were involved.

Chris's eyes pointed up, one of my nether lips still being sucked. "Ahm shucking ohn yuur ballz." She let the skin pinched between her lips snap out for emphasis. "You're a boy, remember?"

"You...I..." I stammered, at a loss. A stupid grin played across my face, despite my best efforts to suppress it. "You sure I'M the inexperienced one here? Have we EVER had you eat me out before?"

Chris seemed to take offense to that, her cheeks reddening in embarrassment. "I'm NOT trying to eat you out, you goober! You're a guy! I'm trying to suck you off! It's not my fault your pu..."

She paused for a moment at that one, before a look of determination washed across her face.

"...Your PENIS is so tiny! Man, Dani, you have to work with me here. We should have gotten a strap-on or something. There HAS to be something around here we can use for..."

I saw her glance around, looking for whatever that something was, before her head locked in place, pointing towards our dresser. She started walking towards it; following her gaze, I saw a small handheld flashlight lying on top of it -- we never had put it away after we came back from the camping trip I'd dragged Chris to a month ago.

Reading her mind, I yelled out to her. "Chris! No, Chris, stop!" She turned back to me, looking impatient. "Look, I'm sorry for not keeping to the program here, we can do this, without, y'know, sticking dirty things inside of me. Look," I said, pushing my butt back and raising my back so my arms could reach my groin. "I've got a biiig, meaty package for you!" I pressed my lips together between my hands, squeezing my vagina together to form a respectable clump of flesh, pushing it back and forth and in the process wringing out a bit of my vaginal fluid, the stupid grin returning to my face at the ridiculous situation. Maybe Chris was on the right track with this. It was actually kinda hot, and, silly as it was, I was getting pretty horny. "Just, y'know, please stop chewing on my balls. Guys don't like that either."

Chris pursed her lips. "Maybe OTHER guys don't, but you're my boy toy. You love whatever your mistress does to you. Still, though," she continued, a small perk coming to her lips, "maybe we can make this work."