The Brass Butterfly Ch. 07

She wanted to soothe him and tell him it was all right. But she couldn't do it. Her boyfriend was trapped in a woman's body, and frustration, lust, and the selfish desire for something uncomplicated right now had changed their friendship with Simon into something much darker and more dangerous. Maybe she wasn't as ok with the idea of Matt turning into a woman as she had tried to make everyone believe, including herself. She didn't want to leave her longtime lover, but she didn't want to deal with it anymore, and that made her feel guilty. Just standing here looking at Simon's face was making her ache for him, more than it would have at any other time. Everything was anything BUT all right.

He dropped his hands to her shoulders again and looked down and away, steadying himself. "I'll see you out. I'll be in touch with anymore information I find out on your case."

She lifted a hand to her cheek and cupped it gently. "Simon."

He raised his eyes to her, but said nothing. His look was enough. He wanted her, wanted to be part of their lives so desperately, but he wouldn't say it. Like a little boy that was afraid he's going to do the wrong thing again and be punished for it.

Something about that look melted her resolve. Standing on tiptoe just a bit, she closed her eyes and kissed him.

He caught his breath, letting her kiss him. She felt the hesitation in his body, then the decision settle and his arms snaked around her and the kiss deepened.

She slid one arm around his neck, the other hanging out, still holding the coffee cup. He kissed hungrily, giving her the impression of just how long it had been for him, and he pulled her closer. She could feel his body heating up and he slid his tongue into her mouth, warm and wet and stroking gently against hers.

She moaned softly into his mouth and she felt the coffee in her hand drop and splash. He moaned when she did and ignored the coffee falling on his rug. His hands ran down her back, and she delved her hands into his hair at the base of the braid and tugged slightly as her other arm wrapped around him.

He started pulling her back to the couch and into his lap. She felt him already quite hard through his slacks and he was quite a big boy if she was judging correctly. It was then she pulled back slightly, catching her breath, "Wait."

He gasped but stopped, panting hard, "What?"

She leaned her forehead against his, her body shuddering as she tried to regain control of her senses, "I...we...what are we doing?"

He breathed heavily for a few seconds, his hands on her waist, trying to control himself as well, "I don't know...Jesus. "

"God." Her voice was ragged and all she could think about was the fact she was sitting on his hard cock and with just a little moving and she could have it. "I knew I was attracted to you." She had to take a deep breath and let it out slowly, "But I never imagined that it would be.... like this..."

He moved to brush her hair out of her face again and brushed his lips over her throat in little butterfly kisses and whispered, "You're so beautiful."

Simon obviously wasn't having any luck in controlling himself, and his lips on her throat was fast breaking her will down again, "Simon..."

He cradled her, running his tongue over the sweet spot near the base of her collarbone and sucked gently on her neck. Not hard enough to raise a mark, but hard enough for her to feel it sending sparks skittering through her body. He writhed his hips a bit so he brushed against her through his clothes.

She wriggled back, pressing up close, moaning again, "We...Ah! We shouldn't..."

He didn't seem to be listening. He nuzzled and moved his mouth to a new spot on her neck, and his hand slid up to her breast, cupping it and squeezing gently. Her nipple hardened through her shirt and bra. She pulled back and cried, "Simon!"

He was too caught up in it. He clutched her harder, his hand pulling up her shirt and bra so he could touch her skin to skin. He took her nipple in his fingers to roll it gently and bit lightly at her neck, a rumbling purr emanating somewhere deep in his chest.

She gasped and moaned and thrust her hands into his hair, leaning over to nibble behind his ear. He had to pull away so she could do that and groaned. Both his hands were up under her shirt now and she scooted closer in his lap, rocking gently against his erection. He pulled his glasses off and put them on the end table before pulling off her shirt and bra.

The look on his face was heated when she saw her breasts, and he picked her up and moved so she was lying on the couch. His face bent to her chest and took one of her nipples in his mouth while his hands start working on opening her pants.

She moaned again, her hands kneading at his shoulders. He got her pants open and tugged them off her legs, his hands smoothing up her thighs to touch her wet pussy. His fingers slid easily and she shuddered. He felt so good—he massaged her clit languidly for a few minutes, then opened his own shirt and pulled it off quickly then did the same as his pants. He had a beautiful body; long and lean, and well muscled with very little hair except for a dark line running from his belly button down to the black nest between his legs. He had filled out a lot in the last few years. And she was right—like the rest of him, he WAS a big boy.

This was too much. The sight of him brought her back to her senses. If she didn't stop now, she never would, and she'd never forgive himself. She wanted him, but not like this. He knelt and put his face between her legs, licking gently. She squirmed under the touch of his tongue, almost derailing again. She had to think of Matt...

"Simon..."

He made a few hard swipes with his tongue and she jerked and gasped, trying to focus. She thrust her hand into his hair.

"Simon!"

He kissed her clit, pulling it into his mouth and laving at it gently. Her whole body jerked in response and she was...At this rate, she was going to...

She grabbed his hair and pulled, "SIMON!"

He jerked and hissed in pain, lifting his head away from her, "What?!"

"We...can't."

The look of disbelief on his face hurt too much to see. She bowed her head miserably, fresh tears strolling down her cheeks. She hiccupped and he sighed and sat up, head hung and he put a shaking hand to cover his eyes. He took a few deep hitching breaths as if he was trying not to cry.

She sat up and pulled her knees to her chest and looked at him sadly. "I'm sorry Simon. As much as I want this...I just...I just can't. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He nodded, still covering his eyes. His voice was hoarse. "I—I understand. " He moved a leg to cover himself a bit and finally put his hand down. He wouldn't look at her and said softly, "You'd better go, Sara."

She got up and got dressed. When she was finished, she looked back at him. He hadn't moved from the sofa, and didn't look at her. He kept his body turned from her, staring at the floor but not seeing it. He looked rather like a beautiful, dejected, living statue. She looked at him with sad longing for a moment before she let out a strangled sob. She hurried to the foyer and put on her shoes, before picking up her purse and running all the way back to her car.

To Be Continued...