Queer smut one shots, wlw and trans

May, a slightly longer short story: GxG part two

Author note: This is part two of "May" please read part one first

Welcome to my collection of one shots. These are individual scenes or short stories focusing on queer romance. They are explicit in nature and not appropriate for people under 18. I hope you enjoy them, please leave a comment and like them if you think they deserve it. I write because I want to share my stories with people, so the best thing ever is to hear from readers :) Also, let me know if you have any requests and I'll see if I like the idea and might write about it.

Part two:

I look from the Tupperware container in her hand, to the bemused look on her face. Well, I suppose I've shown my cards. "Lunch wasn't really on my mind," I admit as I sit down at the table. I smile to myself as a look of shyness fleets across her face.

"Oh," May giggles, "Well, I'll be back." She hands me my lunch and walks over to the buffet. What a surprise this is. She's got me a little off balance; May's been pretty standardly shy the last few weeks that she's been at my university. We've spoken during the tutorials but only about the topics at hand. A few times, I had thought I caught her staring at me, but I told myself I was just seeing things. I always see flirtation where there is none. And now, she's... I think.. flirting and about to have lunch with me. I'm not complaining though, I'm enjoying it, even if I am finding her hard to read. I watch her from a distance as she bounces her way along the buffet line. With each step, her legs jiggle and I struggle to keep my mind off how they might feel, pressed against my ears. I wonder if she's a virgin after all, maybe she knows exactly what she's doing. Either way, I intend to find out. 

"So, you were telling me what was on your mind?" she says, sitting down at the table. She has wide, brown, fuck-me eyes, and she's fluttering her eye lashes at me innocently. She knows exactly what she's doing.

I play her game right back to her, putting myself back in control. "You," I say, leaning back into the chair and spreading my legs in my butch-est pose. She looks away shyly and I smirk, I love this part of flirting; the back and forth. Will she play along, will she surprise me?

"I, uh," she says, stutteringly, "Me?"

"Mmhmm."

"What about me?" She's holding her lunch close to herself for comfort, god I want to play with her.

"What do you know about me?" I ask, flexing my shoulders as I adjust in my seat. I like how I look; I wear singlets everywhere. In Australia they used to call them Wife Beaters, an unfortunate name owing to the stereotype of violent men who wore them. Nowadays they call them Wife Pleasers, I much prefer that name. Along with my thick leather belt and heavy buckle, I'm the classic butch. I keep my hair cropped and slicked back, like Ruby Rose. A lot of my style comes from her to be honest.

"What do I know about you?" she asks, still holding her food close to her chest.

"Yea, people talk, especially here," I say, gesturing around the campus.

"I don't listen to gossip," she says, as if to protect me from what she's heard.

"No, but I imagine you still hear it."

"Well..." she begins, looking to me as though worried how I might respond.

"Trust me, I've heard it all," I assure her, "Some of it's even true." At this, her eyes flit up to mine and back down to my chest. I can see her breathing is heavy, I'm not sure if she's anxious or excited.

"Well, I've heard you get around..." she says finally.

I chuckle, "Well, that's one of the true rumours."

"And... I've heard you um..." The burning feeling low in my stomach is coming back and I shift in my seat. I love the chase. I love the moments before someone opens themselves up to me, like I suspect she's about to. "Like to... introduce people... to new things?" she says. I lean forward in my seat, bridging the distance between us. A strand of my hair flops down to my eyes and I brush it away, I see her glimpsing at my biceps and internally I grin.

"And what are you wanting to be introduced to?" I ask her, my voice low and controlled. She goes to speak, but pauses. I can't read her expression, it's a mixture of shyness, nerves, and something else.

"You never told me what you were thinking about me," she says, letting out a sharp breath as she sits back in her seat, her heaving chest betrays her excitement.

OK, so she wants to play back-and-forth, "You started the course three weeks ago," I say.

"Mmhmm," she says.

"How many tutorials have we had together?" I ask her.

"Five," she says, way too quickly.

I raise an eyebrow and smirk, "Not that you're counting or anything," I laugh. She blushes, but visibly steels herself, as though telling herself this is what she wants. "And you've sat at my table every time," I say.

"Well, I'm a creature of habit."

"You're a curious creature," I say smoothly.

She scoffs, "Is that your idea of a compliment? Calling me a creature!"

"Mermaids, fairies, angels, they're all creatures."

She smiles despite herself, "Well I certainly hope that's what you mean!"

"No, you're something quite different to all of those, I suspect," I say lustfully. She smiles, and puts her lunch on the table, her hands in her lap. She rubs her arm to sooth herself and waits for me to continue. "So, I ask myself, who's this girl sitting opposite me, and why does she keep glancing at me?" Her face is red now, like she knows she's been caught. I wasn't sure if she had been glancing at me to begin with. But something in the way she's acting tells me my suspicions were right all along. "And I have to ask myself, does she know I've been glancing back?"

Her lips part and she breathes out softly, almost like a faint moan. She bites her bottom lip and leans forward cautiously. "You know... I live on campus..." she whispers.