Lusting After You (GirlxIntersex)

Chapter 2

Season 1 Episode 2

Kiana POV

"This has got to be a dream." I whispered to myself like a lunatic, my fingers thrilled as they ran down the soft, black seat, which was nothing but comfort and luxury. One of my hands resting on the stirring wheel. My gaze couldn't remain focused on one play as it raced to the radio, then to the high-functioning dash. Stefan stepped inside of the car, wearing a leather jacket and tight black pants that were shredded at the knees. As the leather jacket opens more, a black sweatshirt is seen.

"I see you were wondering if it's still a dream."

"Yea. It just does not." I turned the key, and the wagon drums started up. The engine purred sweetly, and when I pressed the accelerator, it roared.

"Where are we taking this bad girl?" She inquired, laying her hand on the hand holder ahead of her.

"Let's put it through its paces on some rocky terrain. In addition, I haven't gone for a stroll in a long time. "What do you think?"

"If I had known," she said, shrugging, "I would have opted for something less tight." She motioned to the tight jeans.

I started backing out of the driveway and then headed toward the Garvey Mountains.

It was a well-known mountain with a small park at its base. Cars, especially highschool students, frequently go up there to make out and perform the deeds. I know because when I was in high school, I would simply go for a make out session.

Stefan pushed the window down even farther on her side, and the wind began to blow my already light brown hair. One hand was on the wheels, while the other was brushing it back.

Not wanting us to be trapped in quiet, I initiated a discussion by asking a question.

"What have you been up to? Do you have any plans for this month?" It may appear to be a silly question, but all I want is a fluid dialogue where one thing leads to another.

"Nothing much, just working on a new project."

Stefan is interested in fine arts, which explains why she is so isolated. She is a successful artist who can remark, "Art does make a living."

"Which is it?"

She grinned and shook her head. I shrugged, knowing that one way or another, I'd see her painting before the finishing touch. Even if it means infiltrating her painting studio.

"If I tell you. I'll lose interest, and I've invested a lot for it to be wrecked."

I've had enough of my hair, so I simply let it sway and dance in the breeze.

"I see what you're saying. Some of my ideas are too painful for me to discuss. I just like to display the results."

"Exactly." She stated this while laying her palm on my thighs. My hands firmly grasping the stirring wheel. I took a fleeting glance at her hand before returning my attention to the road. I know her touches are harmless expressions of consolation, but my brain saw things quite differently. On a bumpy dirt road, I turned the wagon. The wagon jiggles and bounces as the wheels maneuver each stone.

"A-are you up with a-any thing else." I stumbled over my words.

"Well, some days I don't feel like painting. I simply want to sleep and sleep some more. That will be you for the next four months, lucky you."

The wagon comes to a halt, and the warmth of her palm leaves my thighs. I'm sorry I wore leggings. I had hoped for something closer.

"I wish." As I opened the door and hopped out, she followed. "The first month is about catching up with family members and old friends."