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Fran likes this little ritual she has going on with Amari, ever since he started testosterone. They are not ones to talk about feelings — their relationship started fully physical, out of desperate desire for touch from a kindred spirit in their small town. She remembers fondly the day they met, Amari's dark brown eyes fixated on her tall frame, wide shoulders fitting the lumberjack getup she was wearing. She'd turned around and looked at the small Black woman with locs down to his shoulders and burned with the need to get to know him. They hadn't quite U-Hauled, but they had made out only a couple hours into knowing each other; in the back of Amari's car, hotboxing and sticky with sweat.
Amari is only wearing a thin t-shirt showing off his small tits, forgoing his panties so Fran can see the exact moment his dick hardens and peeks out from between his folds—Fran never thought she'd get on with a masochistic femme, but Amari is the real deal, soaking wet after getting a new tattoo, searching for relief in being pierced, and now, as Fran gets down on her knees as he sits on the bed, getting off to the big needle entering his thigh muscle.
Fran presses a kiss to his inner thigh after flicking the needle enough. "Ready?"
Amari nods. "Yeah, I'm ready." His voice is rough around the edges, still high but more in the way a teen boy's is.
She hums and presses the needle to the same spot she did two weeks ago, both hands on her lover's thigh, one rubbing her knee. The fuzziness of Amari's leg hair is more soothing to Fran than to himself, she's sure of that. Fran pokes her with the needle and plunges it deep in.
Amari lets out a little noise from the back of his throat and Fran turns her head as she presses the substance in, just in time to see Amari's tdick throb and harden at the pain. She groans at the sight, arousal crawling up her spine as her own dick twitches minutely in her boxers. She has never been a fan of using it, but she likes how it marks her desire. She keeps her hands on task, as much as she craves putting thumb and forefinger around Amari's cock to jerk him off.
"So gorgeous," Fran mumbles, more to herself than to her femme, as she finishes up with his shot. She pulls the needle out and Amari lets out a little yelp of pain at the same time his dick hardens even more, showing off from beneath dark curls of pubic hair. She leans down to kiss his thigh. "There, all done."
Fran stands up and puts the needle in its disposal box before returning to her femme. He's all pretty curves, rolls and tits, stubble over his double chin. He'd started testosterone after they started going out, explained with nervous mumbling about how he wanted to look like a femme in the gay man sense, but that he would never call himself a man. He worried Fran wouldn't be interested in him anymore, but she'd only smiled and said that she wasn't one to judge. She likes him even better now, how he's come into his own with the steady low doses she applies.
Amari looks down at her as she goes down on her knees, spreads his legs. His tiny dick is all hard for her, a show of his masochistic enjoyment of the needle, of the intimacy of putting metal into his body, of pushing hormones inside. Amari has joked before that Fran has been building her own femme.
Fran goes forward to take his dick in her mouth, ecstatic at this simple show of service. That's the kind of butch she is, helpful, almost submissive if not for how she pins Amari down to rub their dicks together. She smiles around his dick, licks over it, and lets herself relax. Here, she is home.