Page 143 of Whirlwind

Chapter 5

Charlie

Charlie zipped her jeans and checked the effect. There was a noticeable bulge, pressing against the denim like it wanted to escape.

When she was younger, she’d slipped rolled up socks into her underwear to create a soft bump. It was probably hardly noticeable to anyone but her, but it had made her more comfortable getting dressed each morning.

This wasn’t subtle, though. This was pure sex.

She tugged it experimentally, adjusting it under the fabric. God, it felt good holding the thick length in her hand.

She joked about cis-men for touching their dicks all the time, but she could see the appeal. She felt strong. Sensual. It was just a piece of silicone, but she felt almost proud of it. Proud of what she could do with it.

Proud of how, hopefully, she could make Carla feel good.

She adjusted it again and gasped at the unfamiliar sensation. Carla had set the whole thing up for her, including tucking a bullet vibe into the internal pocket.

Charlie hadn’t used one before, at least not on herself. But she hadn’t taken it out either when she saw it.

It was pressing against her now, a small ridge rubbing against the part of her body that would have been her cock if she’d been built differently. She pressed the dildo down again, testing out the enjoyable response.

Usually it was difficult for her to give in to her own pleasure, but maybe like this, with her cock sticking out and that little bump hidden behind it, she could let go. The whole contraption felt a little artificial and silly, but it also felt incredibly right.

She could see herself this way, and she knew that Carla could see her, too. That made a difference.

She tucked her shirt back in, knowing that she was dawdling. She could hear Carla walking through the apartment, probably getting things ready.

That was the annoying thing about strap-ons. They were difficult to put on and there really wasn’t a sexy way to do it. Hiding in the bathroom like this was really the best bet, so that you could come out fully dressed and try to make things feel natural again. It was what she’d always done in past relationships.

It felt awkward, though. As much as Carla had tried to make it sexy, it broke the flow of what they’d been doing before.

Not to mention that it was one thing to feel sexy in a room by herself. It was a completely different thing to walk out with an erection tenting her jeans. Something better for a few months into a relationship, maybe, when she wasn’t feeling so vulnerable.

She battled the worries back. No one had ever understood her as well as Carla. No one had just taken her at her word when she talked about her body. Carla, unbelievably, didn’t even seem bothered by all of her restrictions. The desire in his eyes had never faded.

She still didn’t understand everything that Carla wanted, how the submission would fit with her complicated gender. But she was still dying to find out.

If only she could make herself leave the bathroom.

She heard footsteps outside the door and then a knock. Oh, God. That was even more embarrassing. Had she been taking too long? Was Carla worried that she couldn’t figure it out or something? “Just a second,” she called out, feeling foolish. She was just too old for this.

“Take your time,” Carla replied lightly.

But now Charlie felt like she had to move. She turned the knob and took a slow step out into the hallway. Time for the awkward party.

Carla looked her up and down, lust in his eyes when they lit on her cock.

He took two steps toward her, and then she was pressed against the wall, Carla’s mouth devouring hers. She felt herself getting lost in the sensations. Carla’s questing tongue and wet lips. Carla’s thigh pressing between her legs and rubbing her cock with just the right pressure. Carla’s hand tight in her short hair, trapping her head to plunder her mouth.

It felt sinfully good to be held this way, to feel the evidence of his desire and know that it matched hers. To feel all of his strength and power aimed at her body.

His tongue teased her palate. The nips at her lips were slow and purposeful, sending sharp flames of desire through her before they were soothed away with languid strokes.

She melted into him, trusting the wall to hold her up. There was no space for questions or thoughts, just the rough immediacy of their need.

Carla pushed even closer, until it was almost a strain for her lungs to fill. It made her feel, not quite small, but something like that. Controlled. Captured. Dominated.

Not weak, though. Not any less herself.