TMomL 0005 - Boyfriend

Now that my sister has left, I wonder what I should do. After looking at what I wore to sleep that l have not changed out of yet, I go upstairs and carefully clean myself, taking care not to wet my bandages and ignoring the weird sensations.

I actually find that I'm getting used to them. Not like before where it was normal and did not make me overthink but now only the sensitive places are making me uncomfortable.

After I'm done, I wear a black bra and hipster panties of the same color before adding cotton pants and a tank-top. I think my love for beautiful things is bringing me back to normal but I'm still not ready for feminine wear like crop-tops, mini-skirts and others, not yet. I take my notebook from my room and make myself comfortable in the reading corner on the ground floor.

Before I can open the notebook and give it a purpose, the bell rang. Going to the inter phone, I ask:

"Who is it?"

"Hey Max, it's me Josh."

Right then, my heart skips a beat and I panic a little. Not because I am afraid of Josh, but because he is my boyfriend. He is an upperclassman two years older than me, a popular boy in the school where I study.

It is not a posh school, just a normal one affordable by middle class families like us. Josh is not the brightest but he is smart, funny and into sports. He is also handsome so there were many girls after him but he courted me and I found him likable so we became a couple. We even held hands and kissed. I just never let him go father.

He is my first boyfriend and I didn't love him, I was quite comfortable with him. But, why the hell is he here? Shouldn't he be at school? I don't know how to face him yet with the changes that happened.

I take a breath and calm down a little before asking him:

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in class? It's Tuesday."

The accident happened on Sunday, and after the coma, the funeral, and one night at home, it was now Tuesday.

"I skipped to see you. Wouldn't we talk better if you open the door?"

"Give me a moment."

Not being able to find a reason not to, I can only open the door for him. As we come face to face, he smiles at me full of joy and hugs me before I can react.

He retracts his head a little and kisses me, with the same gentleness and desire that used to melt me down, causing me to respond reflexively. We battle with our tongues on the door steps and I only become aware when he starts to fondle my butt, starting a fire in my lower abdomen and making me gasp sensually.

All of this is due to the dichotomy brought by the echo of my last life as a man and this one as a woman in making, causing me to be more aware and sensitive.

I suddenly snap out of the image in my head, and look at Josh, confused, wary, and also uncomfortable.

Josh steps forward to approach me, his hands already up to embrace me, then stops because I recoil.

"Max, are you alright? What's wrong?"

I heave a little, not understanding what happened, but still, feeling nauseous. I cannot understand how something happens, but apparently, only in my head. And i can't understand how what happened in my head becomes what Josh tried to make happen in reality.

I am confused, but I recall the exchange of saliva between us, not only in the scene that flashed through my mind, but also in the times we kissed before, and the nausea suddenly became too strong.

I spare Josh a little dignity by not vomiting before him. I leave him at the door and turn around to hurry to the guests' toilet while limping fiercely.

Once there, I lock the door and throw up my undigested breakfast. I vomit more fiercely than I expected, and the more I recall kissing a man, or a boy, the more I can't stop.

I use the tap water to rinse my mouth repeatedly after finally trying to regurgitate in disgust unsuccessfully. I look at myself in the mirror and try to calm down.

I just got the proof that I am not attracted to the opposite sex anymore. If anything, the nausea from just imagining a kissing scene only shows how averse the situation is to me.

I exhale, and I go out to find Josh in the reading area beside my notebook.

When I approach, he ask me with concern:

"Max are you alright?"

I can't just tell him that I got disgusted with his saliva all over my lips and in my mouth right? Even more so from a scene I only imagined. Even if it would have been simpler.

I sit down, push my notebook away from him and distractedly say:

"I'm sorry for what happened. Some prescribed drugs are making me nauseous. So why did you come, just to feel me up?"

There is a bit of an edge by the end of my answer but what can you expect from a hormonal teenager? At least unlike boys, girls are more aware emotionally, me even more with my new memories.

He does not seem to perceive the emotions in my answer. He looks confused, then he smiles:

"Of course not. You have not been to school for a while so I came to see how you were going."

"I'm doing fine, thank you."

"There are rumors at school that you have been in an accident. Is it true? How are you?"

With that he tries to leave his seat to come beside me, but the contact between our skins makes me stand up.

I go to the kitchen to serve myself some water, and when I calm down after drinking it, I turn to him:

"Josh, the drugs are making me uncomfortable, so I can't entertain you. Let's talk after I come back to school."