Consider the scene
Elaine stands at the door with a small bag of various things. I smell salt and vinegar chips, beef jerky and the aforementioned condoms. Mostly those because the chemical latex smell is somehow mocking my lack of foresight. Goddamn these hormones and Stephen's body. That sexy, sexy body. Elaine smells slightly anxious and something close to jealous but not quite that. It's a complex thing and I'm not sure how to untangle it just yet. I don't think it's entirely bad. Probably. I like her outfit and a small piece of me quickly wonders if I'd look as cute as her in it. She's got a loose knit dark green cap covering just the tips of her ears. A light black wool pea coat covers a green top that dips down to show a bit of her cleavage and there's an intricate pattern woven along the top of it. Well-worn blue jeans disappear into stylish black boots with an ample bit of heel to them. The tip of her nose is red from the slight cold outside and the freckles along her cheeks hide like startled animals amongst the blush rising there.
All of that and my immediate thought is:
I like her shirt. Would it look good on me?
I blame the recent shopping trip and all the clothes I tried on.
Stephen is on the floor, propped up on his elbow and hip. His face is stubbly and I don't have to close my eyes to feel the way it scratches against me when we kiss. His eyes flicker to Elaine before settling back on me. He's more relaxed now. His control has set in and the emotions from earlier are swept under the rug again. I know they're still there. I know he still worries. It's who he is. The thick hair on his chest is matted from our... activities from earlier. There is dried cum (both of ours) on his penis and it lies down and across his right thigh. His testicles are somewhat baggy but hidden behind a thicket of pubic hair. I should be laughing at his penis right now. It's small and just kind of lying there. He's huge when he's hard so it's kind of like a comically deflated balloon. A penis balloon. Nice. But, no. I ache inside this woman's body. A good ache from that penis. Deep inside of this woman's vagina. From the little experience I have with being fucked, I know I'll be sore for a while. And he's owning it right now. Stephen is just lying there, watching me. Knowing that he
took
me. Letting that go was more difficult than I imagined but I want it again. I want him to take me again. So, no, I don't giggle at his penis. I crave it.
And now, me. Standing like a naked female wrestler. I can feel Stephen's cum in me. His cum in me. It's an interesting thing. If you take it just as that then it's just his cum inside of me and it's going to leak out by itself (in fact, a little bit of it is now that I'm standing up) or it's going to do it when I sit down to pee. And it's just another liquid. Sure, that's one way to think of it. But, being wholly new to this experience, I take it a bit further because I sometimes overthink things. This man took me and fucked me and came inside of me. I shiver a little at the memory of his thick cock pulsing deep inside of my vagina. The memory makes me warm and hungry for him yet again. How do I explain it beyond that, though? I am a woman and as Elaine pointed out earlier, I could become pregnant. Probably. I mean, I assume everything is there and works just like it should. So, my mate mounted me and filled me with his cum and I could get pregnant from it. I still don't think I'm explaining how it's different. Before, I took him. This time, he took me. I relaxed my control and he took it from my hands.
I submitted to Stephen sexually and he mated me. The trace feelings of submission run through my body and I blush slightly at the touch of them. I blush like a shy maiden on her first bedding because that's basically what this was. It...
softened
me temporarily and for the first time, I think I felt more in line with my feminine side. No, I'm not saying that all women are weak and should submit and yadda yadda. Listen to what I'm saying. I'm saying I think for the first time, I accepted the feminine side of who I am rather than being a man in a woman's body.
I'll attack from another direction before I sound like a misogynistic pig. Even before all of this, I understood that, okay, women are not just supposed to be barefoot in the kitchen and men aren't all out punching bears and slugging back cases of beer. Well, most aren't. Gender is fluid. Sexuality is fluid. I'm learning this more and more these days. But, take masculinity and femininity. They're layered in thousands of years of socially acceptable norms forced on people. But, ignore a lot of that and we'll boil it down. Feminine is the nurturer. The loving giver. The bottom, sexually. The... gatherer rather than the hunter. I don't want to get into all the yin and yang or Jungian psychology but let's put it at that. Biology and evolution has forced women into that role but let's separate it from women and just leave it as that. It's a male or female in that role. Masculinity is the hunter. The sexual top. The dominant taker. That's also a role both men and women can play. But it's never so simple as that and people can flow between one to the other or find a happy place in between.
And then society gets in the way and we're suddenly forced to think that real men are the bread winners and have to be tough and take care of the poor fragile women. That shit's hard to shake off, even when you
know