I may have gone a bit too far this time. Here I am, a frail little tortoiseshell cat girl, barely past my twenties, sitting right next to my crush. She's just a year older, but somehow this cheetah lady is nearly a foot taller than me (six and a half!) and twice as strong. I heard she was a wrestler back in high school, which would probably explain how she was able to lift me up so easily when I fainted right in front of her. Of all the places to meet her, after years of not seeing her... it HAD to be out in the hottest day of the summer. Dear, oh dear.

I mean, okay, I'm not saying this is a bad thing; I love Roxie with all my heart, and I've never felt safer than when she offered to carried me to her apartment then jogged a mile to get there like it was nothing. Now, though, we're both here, all sweaty, watching silly videos on Youtube and trying to cool off with the fan on full blast. It could be worse. I could be, like, out there roasting on the sidewalk still.

"So, Alex," she tells me, in the most casual possible way, "even with the fan on, it's getting a little too hot for me." I nod and mutter out an "uh-huh," even though I have no idea where this is going. "You mind if I let the girls out for a bit?" The... the girls? "Uh, g-go ahead," I stammer, trying to play it cool. "I do it all the time, heh."

"Of course you do," she says. "You're a dude."

That last sentence gnaws at me as much as I expected it to.

"But, y'know," she continues, "it's a little different when girls do it. I just wanted to make sure you're cool with it."

She takes her sports bra off. I can't help but stare for two or three seconds before coming to my senses and looking back at the laptop screen. Roxie lets out a sigh of relief. "Free-dom," she says in a singy-songy tone. Soon enough, though, here eyes are back on mine, and I have to force mine into looking at hers, and not, ahem, something else.

"Hey, you should free your boys, too," she says to me. "Well, not those boys. You know what I mean. She lets out a rare giggle, sticking her tongue out. I'm so smitten it takes me a moment to remember to answer. "Oh, uh... yeah, maybe I should... Um..."

What's happening? I could've just said "Pssh, sure thing" and done it, but instead I'm fumbling over my own words for no dang reason. Or, rather, there is a reason, but I don't wanna have to explain how I'm hesitant to show my chest -- even if it's with her -- because I'm a trans girl. It's not the same anymore. This isn't a boy's chest anymore. It's... undergoing maintenance, to put it lightly. I have boobs now.

"Ah, you're a little shy, aren'tcha?" Roxie says with a smile. I'm having trouble figuring out what kind of smile she's giving me right now. "It's fine. Alex, come on," she says, stifling a laugh. "I hope you're not intimidated 'cause mine are bigger."

"It's... it's not that." Oh, now I've done it.
"What is it, then?"
"It's, um... h-how do I explain it?"
"Go on. I'll listen." You're too good for me, Roxie. Watch me blow this.
"I... I changed a bit... since the last time we met." Oh no. Why did I say that.
"Hmm, I see... you got a bit chubby." No! I mean, yeah, but...
"No, not that. I mean that I'm... different now."
"Oh! Did you get them pierced?! You always said you wanted to." Still do!
"Not that either." This can't end well.
"Alex, please. Puh-LEASE. You know you can tell me anything." I sure hope I can!
"It's just... ah..."
"I mean, if you don't wanna, then don't, it's cool." I'm dying. And it's not just the heat.
"I don't know how..."
"To explain it, I know."
"...How to tell you." Oh, my sweet lord almighty. I said that. I'm toast.
"Huh? Tell me what? ...Yo. Is this about what I think it's about?" Eep! Well, it's not like I can just say--
"I'm a girl." ...Ah, I said it out loud, didn't I?

Almost by sheer instinct, I close my eyes and slump onto the couch. I'll just fade out of existence now. Roxie, though, has other plans for me; I just felt her hand grab mine. I should probably open my eyes now. Probably.

"I'm so fucking proud of you," she says. As soon as I open my eyes, I see her right on top of me, with the biggest smile I've seen since we were little kids. She immediately puts her hands on my cheeks. "You make SUCH a cute girl! I'm proud of you!" She nearly hugs my soul out of my chest. "You brave little chump!"

At this point, my heart's thumping so hard I feel like it's gonna climb out of my throat. Not out of being scared or anything, though, which is a nice change of pace. It takes me a bit to remember how to speak english like a normal person, but I speak eventually. "Th-thank you. I didn't know how you would react, and I was scared that you'd call me names or kick me out or..."

"Oh my god, Alex, there's no way in HELL I could do that to you, never ever. You've been there for me my whole damn life, girl! Well, until high school ended and I moved, at least. You know what I mean. Still, wow! You're a girl!" I feel like I'll never get tired of hearing that.

"I sure am," I whisper. "That's why I didn't wanna show you these--"
"Can you show me now?" Roxie...
"Roxie..." Ah, I thought it and said it. Whoops.
"I'm curious, that's all." Gulp. This'll be a first for me.
"I mean... yeah, totally. Now I can."

Now that the cat's outta the bag (heh), I didn't even hesitate. I pulled my shirt up, and showed my, er, girls to her. Look, they're boobs. I'm not calling them anything else. They're still kinda small, though... even though it's been a while now since I--

"Damn! How'd you get those?!" Roxie looks... impressed, to say the least. What, has she never seen her own boobs before?
"I just... take hormones. It's not rocket science or anything."
"But they're, like, real! None of this is chubbiness!"
"...Some of it is..."
"Pfft. Still, these are... neat. Can mine get bigger if I take--"
"Roxie."
"Okay, bad question. I wonder, though..."
"Roxie, please."
"No, I know. There's something else I'm thinking about." Wh--huh?
"What is it?" I'll definitely regret that question.
"...Can I touch 'em?" Actually, I regret absolutely nothing.

In the grand scheme of things, I shouldn't be surprised that my crush was strong enough to rescue me from toasting on the sidewalk and kind enough to wholeheartedly accept me for who I am. But, when we last met a couple of years ago, I never in a million years would've though she'd be asking me permission to grab my new-ish trans girl boobs. High school me would be flipping her shit. ...Sorry, language.

"Oh, go right ahead," I tell her. For half a minute or so, I was treated to the intoxicating feeling of having Roxie of all people groping me. I already get all huffy and squirm a bit when I feel her cupping my breasts and bouncing them around. I feel tingly...! I look down, though... and yeah, I just see Roxie playing with them like they're balls of yarn. I swear, whenever she's caught up on something, she lets out this tremendously goofy laugh that's like music to my ears. I heard it in my dreams when we were high school buds. A lot.

"I could get used to this. You should stop by tomorrow," she says in a playful tone. There's really only one way I can possibly answer that. "I-- ah!" As soon as she slows down a li'l. "I'd love to. Let's watch a movie next time, okay?"

I know one thing is set in stone, though: nothing, physically or emotionally, will feel as good as this. Well, unless we get together down the line. I haven't gone that far, but I'm getting there.