My Roommate's Brother - Part 2

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I racked my brain as to what I should do next. Do I go out and get the confrontation over with, let her down easy and go on with my life pretending like our little encounter never happened? Or do I stay in my room, try to avoid her for her last few days in town, and then let it end without confrontation? Was the confrontation really necessary? There was a knock at my bedroom door.

My heart leaped up in my chest. It was looking like I was being given the option. “Come on in,” I called out. She poked her head into the room. “Am I waking you up?” she asked. “I’ve been up for a bit,” I said. Her face flushed. “Really?” “Maybe like five or ten minutes,” I said, lying. “Why, what’s up?” I watched some color return to her face, and I suddenly felt a lot less guilty.

I didn’t want to get involved with her, but I also didn’t want to hurt her or make her life any more complicated than it already was. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” she said. “Sure.” She came in and took a seat next to me on the edge of my bed. She stared at her feet for a moment, and then said, “I’m not really sure the best way to tell you this” Her voice was raspy as if she was fighting a thick lump in her throat. Her cheeks became dark red and she suddenly looked small.

“I was born a man.” I don’t know why her admittance came as such a shock I already knew, and I’d known for a good twelve hours already. Maybe it was the fact that I’d been holding onto the sliver of hope that it was a lie, that Carl had just been blabbing like a drunkard, and their conversation that morning was about something else, and I was just hearing it out of context.

It was a very small sliver of hope, but now that it was gone, I felt almost breathless for a moment. “Oh,” I managed to say. I tried to force a smile, but it was hopeless. I couldn’t look her in the eyes.

The fact that she was so beautiful gave me a headache the fact that I still found her attractive, even though I knew she wasn’t really a woman, meant there was something wrong with me. I was gullible, easily manipulated, fooled, and foolish. “I should have told you before You know” she couldn’t peel her gaze off of her feet. Was I supposed to feel bad for her or for myself?

Did she deserve my pity? When she chose to become a woman, certainly she knew what came with her through life keeping her reality a secret, never telling anyone, and expecting people to look the other way when they found out. Sure, the life of a transitioning person probably isn’t easy or simple, but at the end of the day, it was their own decision. “I didn’t mean to lead you on,” she said. “It’s fine.” I looked up into her eyes for a brief moment.

They were so beautiful, they made me angry. How was it fair that someone born a man could have eyes like that? How could I not fall for eyes so piercing, so hypnotizing? Everything about her seemed so unfair. She really did have the face of a beautiful woman, the body of a supermodel. Should I have known? How could I have known? “I hope you don’t hate me for this. I already hate myself.” “I don’t hate you, I just I just don’t really understand.”

The thought of our lips pressed together came to my mind her soft, warm lips, and her tongue slipping into my mouth. Looking at her lips now, I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to feel it again. Overwhelmed by a powerful curiosity, I leaned over and kissed her. I needed to know if it would feel the same, now that I knew her secret. If the spark wasn’t there, then I was still me, still Martin, still straight and normal.

If the spark was there, then I didn’t know myself at all all of my morals were lies, just words that held no weight. The spark was there. My whole chest filled with warmth and I could feel the buzzing electricity through my body. Goddamnit, I was still attracted to her, even though I knew it would never work out. And for every second that our kiss continued, it would be harder to face that reality that was already at the front of my mind.

I was wasting both of our time, setting us both up for utter disappointment. But I couldn’t stop, I couldn’t pull myself away from her. I laid her down and rolled on top of her, feeling her knees rising up as her legs sandwiched my body. We continued to kiss. I cupped her tits in my hands. God, they felt real so soft, so perky. I squeezed them firmly, eliciting a soft moan from the beautiful ladyboy. What was I doing? Was I insane? I needed to stop, I needed to tell her how I felt deceived and confused. We couldn’t go on, making the approaching disappointment even sourer. But I just couldn’t pull myself away from her.

I slipped her shirt off. She had one of those bras that clip between the breasts. I unclipped it and let her boobs out. They gently wobbled on her chest. I sunk down and sucked her nipples. Her fingers slipped into my hair. I could feel her bulge hardening between her legs, against my chest. My heart started pounding it was the reminder I needed: a real reality slap. She wasn’t a woman. She still had a big, working cock between her legs. Despite the reality slap, I couldn’t stop myself. It was like an overpowering lust had taken over my body.

Why couldn’t she just be a real, biological woman? Why did the first woman I ever felt love for have a huge cock between her thighs? I reached down, pushing my fingers below her waistband. My hand was shaking. My heart was racing. I wrapped my fingers around her big, hard cock. ‘What are you doing!?’ my mind was screaming, but I wasn’t listening. I started to fondle her dick. My face was hot and it must have been so red.

I looked her in the eyes. Her cheeks were red, she was tense, biting her bottom lip. With every stroke of her cock, I could see her becoming more relaxed, sinking further and further into my bed. I could feel the thick veins in her manhood throbbing. As I squeezed, I could feel the wet tinge of her pre-cum, oozing out from her cock. “Fuck me,” she said, her whole face now a shade of red. I did away with my pants, letting my rock-hard erection spring free.

I took my cock in my hand and lined the tip of it up between her butt cheeks. I looked down, Just below her big ball sack, her asshole was puckering, opening and closing slightly as if calling to me. She took her bum cheeks in her hands and spread them. “I want you inside of me,” she said. I pushed my tip up to her puckering hole and then I began to push in. It felt so tight, so incredible, her little hole sucking me in, holding me firmly, refusing to let me go.

I sunk in deeper and deeper. “Oh God,” she moaned, and then she let her head fall down onto the pillow, exposing the subtle bulge of her Adam’s apple. I leaned forward and began to kiss her neck, still pushing in deeper. “Holy shit,” she said, and then I felt her clench tightly. I was all the way in, my balls pressed firmly against her butt.

I started to thrust in and out slowly. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her. I didn’t even want to blink, worried I would miss a split second of her perfection, her head rolling from side to side in an incredible euphoria, her tits bouncing slightly as I came down hard inside of her. I reveled in the feeling of her thighs squeezing my body. When I sunk down enough, I could feel her big balls pressing against my abdomen, her hard cock reaching up to my sternum. I felt the sudden urge to jerk her off, so I took her cock in my hand and I began to stroke it. “Oh God,” she said again, biting her lip.

She was looking me in the eyes now, her eyes glowing, flashing, full of life and lust. I couldn’t look away. She was so beautiful, so stunning. I closed my grip tighter and I came down harder and faster. “I’m going to come,” she said. “Me too.” I could hear my balls slapping against her ass. Every inch of her deep rectum felt so good against my swelling shaft. I couldn’t hold back any longer.

I thrust in deep, one last time, and then I came, filling her sweet tush up with my hot load. I felt a powerful throbbing in my hand, and then her cock unloaded in my fist, shooting all over her own chin, her own tits, her own abdomen. I sunk down and licked the cum from between her perky breasts, and then we kissed, my cock still deep in her asshole.

As I pressed my chest against hers, I could feel her heart beating quickly. She could probably feel mine, beating just as ferociously. And then, as the final drops of cum oozed out of my cock, reality came back to me. I couldn’t actually be with her even if I wanted to. Carl would have never allowed it. He would have hated me forever, disowned me as a friend. And what would I tell my other friends or my family? What if her truth reached their ears? “What’s the matter?” she asked. I forced a smile. “Nothing,” I said. Now I needed to think of a way out of this situation.

Alice asked me if I wanted to go to her college fair with her, but I declined. I lied and said I had some appointments I needed to get to, and then I took off. I didn’t actually have anywhere to go, so I went to the library and found myself a quiet, private corner where I could think. Today’s topic of deliberation: what the hell am I supposed to do?

My mind was a fog of voices, calling out from different directions. I couldn’t tune into any one of them specifically. Instead, I was stuck listening to them all shouting over the top of one another. My deliberating was getting me nowhere. The only time I could muster up a cohesive thought was when I was thinking of Alice, laying naked on my bed, her tits sitting gently on her chest, her cock laying firmly on her stomach.

When I pushed the image away, the cloud of voices came back. I needed to find a way to occupy my mind while I sorted out my dilemma and then an idea came to me. I called up a girl from my work: Sarah. Sarah was a shy girl, a few years younger than me. She was kind of cute, and I’d always assumed she had a bit of a crush on me. I’d never been very interested in her, but she was a real woman and I was thinking the cure to my current conundrum was time spent with a real woman.

I asked her if she wanted to meet up for a drink. “Really?” she said in an awestruck voice. She accepted my invitation. We met an hour later at a bar not too far from the library I’d been hiding out in. I almost didn’t recognize her when she entered the room, dressed in a nice dress, her hair done up, makeup carefully applied to her face. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen her in makeup before. “Hi Sarah,” I said, pulling her seat out for her.

She looked totally different, but she was still painfully shy. Her cheeks were dark red for the whole first hour of our impromptu date, and then the red slowly started to fade. She sat sunken and small in her chair, her voice sheepish and timid, but the alcohol seemed to help after a while. She had a cute laugh, but not as cute as Alice’s. Whenever Alice’s face came to my mind, I bit down on my tongue and pushed it away. I strained to keep my focus on Sarah, asking her questions and forcing myself to memorize her answers.

It was a special level of discipline that seemingly worked. Sarah and I didn’t have a lot in common. She was a big fan of superhero movies, she was obsessed with animals, and she wanted to live in New York City one day. I was okay with animals, but I couldn’t stand superhero movies and New York City was my claustrophobic nightmare. I was just happy to be out of the house, thinking about someone else besides Alice. Sarah stumbled as she stood up to use the washroom. “Oops,” she said, grabbing the back of her chair for support.

“I’m sorry. I don’t drink much.” She bit her lip and started to laugh. When she came back from the bathroom, she asked, “Do you want to go back to my place for a bit?” I accepted the invitation. We grabbed a cab and took off for her apartment, which wasn’t too far away. By the time we were at her place, she’d sobered up quite a bit and was able to walk by herself. “I’m just going to change out of these shoes,” she said, and then I found myself meandering around her apartment, looking at the art on the walls and the photos on the mantle.

All of her photos were of her as a child, but the photos didn’t look terribly old, which made me think she was even younger than I’d originally thought. “Hey Martin?” she called out. I went to her bedroom. She was on her bed in just her bra and panties. Her cheeks were once again dark red and she was biting the corner of her lip, clearly unsure she was making the right decision.

Perhaps she felt obligated to fuck after our date, or perhaps she thought it was an easy way to win me over. She had a nice body soft, with small but supple tits. She slowly moved her arm across her chest, covering her rack probably subconsciously. I went to her and pushed a strand of fallen hair off of her face. Her eyes were glowing. She was pretty.

I slipped my hand under her thigh and then I lifted it up, making room for me to slip in between her legs. I pressed my forehead against hers and she closed her eyes, ready to kiss. I held her hand and brought my lips closer to hers. Then I hesitated. I just wasn’t feeling it: that spark. Everything about it felt so mechanical, so pre-planned like we were following the Simple Guide to Sex, a Step by Step Workbook. I leaned back. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“You’re a nice, beautiful girl, Sarah, but I don’t think me and you are really meant to be together,” I said. “Really?” she said after a moment of silence. She looked upset, and even a bit embarrassed, but she was far from devastated. I couldn’t help but see a gleam of agreement in her eyes as if she wasn’t quite feeling it either.

I ran my hand up her side, feeling her warm body, seeing if I could muster any sort of spark, just a fragment of that energy I felt when I was with Alice. It just wasn’t there. “I should go,” I said. I gave her a kiss on the forehead and then I left.

As I walked up to our house, I could hear a door slamming aggressively from within. I entered. Alice was sitting alone in the living room. Her eyes were red. I could hear Carl pacing around. I’d just missed a big fight the continuation of their morning spat. “Hey,” I said. She looked up at me. “Hi,” she said. I took a seat next to her and I put my hand on her back.

“What’s wrong?” She shook her head as if to say ‘nothing.’ She did her best to force a smile. Carl’s bedroom door opened and he came into the living room. “Martin good, you’re home. Tell my brother that he’s making a huge mistake. Tell him that no real guy would ever want to have anything to do with a tranny. C’mon, tell him. Talk some fucking sense into him.” “Stop calling her him, Carl,” I said. “He’s got a cock he’s him. Sorry, but it’s just the truth.” “She’s transitioning.” “Even once they chop it off, he’ll still be him. Mutilation doesn’t change gender.

Why are you taking his side? What’s gotten into you? Tell him no one will ever love him like this.” “Carl” “Just say it!” Carl shouted. “I love her!” I said. The room became silent. Alice’s eyes became wide, still red and wet. “What?” she said, her lips remaining parted. “She’s not your brother anymore,” I said to Carl, “she’s your sister now, and I’m in love with her.

And if you’re going to be a real, miserable piece of shit about it, then fine or you can just accept her for who she is and try being happy for her be happy that for once in her life, she’s happy. What difference does it make to you, anyway?” Carl’s eyes were wide and his lips were parted. “But” was all he managed to say, followed by a long silence filled with the odd stuttering.

It was as if his brain had attempted to divide by zero and crashed, and now it was struggling to reboot. “You and her?” he said. “That’s right,” I said. “I don’t believe you.” I looked over at Alice, who quite possibly hadn’t blinked since I’d made my announcement. I leaned forward and kissed her. It took her a moment, but she kissed me back.

“Butbut she used to be a man,” Carl said in a matter-of-fact voice as if I hadn’t thought about that until he said it. “So what?” The conversation ended there. Carl had nothing else to say, no real reasons to back up his hang-ups just emotions. I looked over at Alice. “I love you, Alice.” “I love you, too,” she said, still in a half-state of shock.

A tear rolled down her cheek. We kissed again. Carl remained silent. His whole argument had been proven wrong in an instant, and now his brain was trying to pick up the pieces, trying to make sense of the new reality he was in the process of accepting.

Love is about being in the present. You don’t love someone for who they used to be or for who they will be one day you love them for who they are now. Sure, Alice used to be a man, but now she was a woman, but what difference did it really make? I was in love with the person, not the gender. To me, she was just Alice. The spark doesn’t care about your politics, your dictionary definitions, or your moral preferences. It only cares about one thing: love.

THE END.