Those Damn Eyes

By the time I hear the music it’s too late to turn back and I know it but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want to. I’m trying to be better though. I’m bound and determined to be better now, to fight against my instincts and actually embrace a different option.

That’s why I’m wearing what I’m wearing. Given the choice between the sultry little black dress and the almost saccharine sweet sundress, I felt like the sundress was for me the road less travelled.

If all of this, if this whole thing, was about embracing a different path. If it was about being a different me. If it was about the road less traveled then what road was less traveled for me than that?

The sundress was beautiful and undeniably feminine. It was slight and flowy and graceful. It made me feel beautiful and sweet and endearingly a woman. It made me feel like her.

So in the end, faced with the decision, I chose the option that was undeniably harder for me. Embracing Emily for the first time since I was in her body and accepting that I was her now.

But only now. Only for a moment. Only to know what it was like before letting go.

It took real strength to make that choice, I think. To become something that is the opposite of what they were and to take the first steps down the path to acceptance. The road less traveled, embraced without regret.

Well, with as little regret as I could manage at least.

I think a lot of people might struggle with that, even if they aren’t particularly inclined to admit to it. They keep to familiar patterns, playing to the strengths they know they already have until they stop being strengths. Because when your strength is the only option you can take that means you’re not flexible, and a lack of flexibility means your chances are narrowed down to one. In the end, if you take it to the ****, only ever making the obvious choice is a little like not making any choice at all.

But this too is just falling into familiar patterns. Going introspective. Not living in the moment. Waxing poetic and philosophical so that I can slow my steps and avoid the inevitable, the messiness of actual interaction and living. Choosing instead to exist in my own mind so that I don’t have to put voice to words and thoughts and…

I’m doing it again.

Step by step. One foot in front of the other. The sound of the music growing louder and the lights starting to peek out over the tops and edges of the building.

I remember that the party was between two buildings, set in the courtyard between a squat building filled with classes and a tall dorm building. They’d set up some lights, a bar on one side that didn’t have a drop of **** at it, and a big dance floor in the middle that everyone could have fun in. Of the night itself I had glimpses of memories from my last time round. A blur of lights and colors and sweaty bodies and a few moments where I’d managed to let down my guard enough to dance without feeling self-conscious only to feel self-conscious again when I accidentally stumbled into someone. Then a pinioning off into the night and… something else. I can’t quite…

It doesn’t matter because it doesn’t need to be that way. I can have it be different this time.

So one foot in front of the other and taking a deep breath in the moment before I come around the corner. Closing my eyes and breathing in and feeling my body beneath me, feeling all of myself and the blush of my memory as it drifted back to where I’d been before.

The moment in bed when I’d played with myself. The shuddering crescendo and the gasping roar afterwards that rang in my ears. The hot heat bubbling beneath my skin, centering in the middle of me and pulsing outward, now present and realized and experienced and so hard to ignore.

It had stayed with me through the shower afterwards. Warming my skin and drawing my attention to how good this soft feminine body felt when it was slippery with soap.

It had distracted me while I was trying to get ready. Bucking against my concentration while I was trying to remember and recreate the methods of makeup that Emily had practiced in the privacy of her room. Hell even while I was trying to figure out how to put on clothes that I’d only ever taken off and only infrequently at that I was distracted by that little ball of heat that stayed with me.

Even now. Even as I took that deep breath and stepped forward, opening my eyes and taking in the sight of the party.

But the moment I was faced with the full scope of the crowd was the moment that the ball faded gratefully into the background.

There were just so many of them. So many people all dressed in colors vibrant and dull and outfits elaborate and simple. I felt out of place immediately, not just because I was wearing clothes that I’d never in a million years have worn but because the moment I stepped around the corner I could feel it.

The eyes watching me. Following me as I took one step and then another. The eyes that memorized my movements, that only wanted one thing from me and one thing alone.

Those damn eyes. Those hungry eyes.

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