But Still I Need More

He wants to cum. He needs to. I can feel his desperation in the ragged uneven thrusts he’s giving me. He’s so close.

I can taste it.

When I regain control over my body I am still shivering from my climax. Hell, this body is so uncertain to me I might still well be fucking cumming but just able to control myself a little through it for all I know.

Whatever it is it’s enough to push back on him, to thrust back and meet him and find his cock deep within me before I turn my head over my shoulder and kiss him again.

Tongues meeting in the middle and his touch is so eager and he wants so much of me. They all do.

So I turn up the dial.

The hands this time are more gentle, worried that they’ll be too much for me and so they take their pleasure with small caresses and kisses on my skin. They don’t oppress me but they pleasure me, reminding me of the limits of this form of mine but not my limitations as the heat continues to rise.

I squeeze the walls of my sex around him and he groans against my lips and I pull his tongue out of his mouth and into mine, suckling it to show him how good I can be for him.

Lips of some unseen stranger close over my breasts and find my nipples and my hands reach out, digging into the hair of those individuals and pulling them into me. Others kiss my tummy and my thighs and they run their fingers light over my skin as I press my ass back and push as hard as I can to drag every last drop of warm seed out of my lover.

We’re beyond words now. I don’t need to tell him and he doesn’t need to know. He already understands and we come together in our ragged connection, his potent energy pulsing so steady within me that it makes me rethink everything at all.

All the way down to who I am and what I want for myself.

In my heart of hearts I cannot imagine going back to who I used to be. Not just because I was so clearly unhappy and so very alone and not just because of the mistakes I’d made but more than that. Because I had tasted the fruit of this passion and it all had to do with this body I was in.

Emily can feel more than I ever could. Emily is living a life in a body on fire with desire. Any inch of her could feel more than the most sensitive inch of me and I know why.

It’s because she is a woman.

It’s because women can feel more.

When I was a man all my pleasure was centered on the cock between my legs. I felt with my cock and I ached with my balls and I wanted with the tiny brain between my thighs, but women don’t suffer that same shortsighted understanding.

They feel with every inch of themselves. They desire with every bit of their skin. Their body is a landscape of different understandings and I could spend a lifetime experiencing but a single inch of it and still witness more than I ever could as a man.

I want to be a woman because I want to feel like they can feel.

I want to be a woman because… because…

Not yet.

“I’m close again,” I whisper for him, my lips curling against his.

And even if he had a voice he wouldn’t need to use it because god I can feel the truth of him on me. I can understand the truth of his understanding within me and I can feel it inside of me.

The throbbing energy.

The potent need.

The shivering edge.

Shame he’ll only get to have it once before he’s done.

But at least I’ll still get a little more.

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