We were sitting so close to each other as I tended her wounds, her hair smelled faintly of apricots, and I leaned inhaling the fresh scent. She turned...towards me, looked me in the eyes, and kissed me softly on the lips. She pulled back some, watching me. Our lips met again gently, both of us exploring the others mouth with our tongues. The exchange became more passionate, both of our emotions swept unbridled in the exchange.I felt myself moving my hands upon her breasts, circling them with. .not even agirl." I blinked. "Huh?" "I'm not a girl," she repeated a little less boldly. "What do you mean, you're not a girl?" "Because...because I'm really a...a boy." "Wait, you mean tomboy." "No, a boy...just like you," s/he said with steady eyes that hit me like abrick. "A--A Boy? Like a--a guy boy??" "Sorry." I scoffed at her tease. "Com'on, you could joke better than that, Stacey!" "It's no joke, Vincent." "Stacey!" "I swear to God and. More

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