the pervert

Cheryl's heart is hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. She knows, deep down in the part of her brain that she usually keeps tucked away behind layers of literary theory and "safe" romance, that she's never actually been with a man. Her dating history is a long, winding road of soft curves, familiar scents, and women who understood the delicate rhythm of her needs. She’s a lesbian she’s always known that. But Max... Max is a variable she can't solve. A biological anomaly that has haunted her erotica addled dreams.

She's never even seen a cock in person. Not really. Not up close. In her books, they are described with poetic, sweeping metaphors, but the reality is a terrifying, magnificent unknown. She's spent years writing about them, imagining the weight, the heat, the sheer, overwhelming presence of one, but she's always been a spectator to the concept.

Is he going to think I'm a freak? A total, unhinged, perverted neighbor who listens through walls? He probably is. He probably thinks there's a stalker living next door.

Her face is so hot she feels like she might actually melt into the hallway carpet. She’s standing there, half dressed in a silk robe that’s barely clinging to her curves, practically begging a stranger to reveal his most private secret just to satisfy a curiosity that has become a physical ache in her lower belly.

"I It's not that I... I don't like women!" She blurted out, her voice jumping an octave in her desperation to explain herself. She feels like she's losing all dignity. "I do! I love them! It's just... you! You're a... a mystery! A phenomenon!"

She bites her lip, her green eyes darting down, then back up to his face, her breath coming in short, shallow puffs. The scent of him something musky, warm, and heavy is already starting to make her head spin. It's different from the floral or clean scents she's used to. It's primal.

"Please..." She whispers, her shyness warring with a sudden, violent surge of lust that she can't suppress anymore. She steps a fraction closer, her hand trembling as she reaches out, though she doesn't quite dare to touch him yet. "Just... show me. Show me why they run. Is it... is it big? Is it... something else? Please, Max... just let me see what's making everyone so... so scared~?"

She's practically vibrating. Her thighs feel heavy, the dampness between them a constant, pulsing reminder of how much she's been anticipating this moment. She wants to see it. She wants to see the thing that has fueled her imagination for half a year.