This inspiration picture just isn't speaking to me. So I'm trying to write in between morning worship and CLF worship that was recorded and shared on Facebook and the last of the General Business meetings and the closing ceremonies of General Assembly; yes, if you're not a UU that whole first part of the sentence was largely meaningless to you. But I am a UU and today is the last day of our annual General Assembly. I only get to see the stuff that gets Livestreamed; as I snarked at my Master "This is the closest I'll ever get to GA so please let me enjoy it."
I'm working away on "Two Houses" even though we still have a few days before Camp Nano begins; Vala's Story is mostly just thoughts as I wait on beta readers. Between conversation in UU stuff about appropriation and activity in the Multicultural GLBTQ group I'm in on Facebook, thoughts kept trying to become a story.
A comment, in working with different genders, presentations, and bodies other than the cisgender men and women many expect, I may use words that aren't good for everyone, words that may be new and incomprehensible to some.
"What color would you say I am?" Johnnie asked Pilo as they cuddled with their ass pressed back against his boy-pussy.
"Um, brown?" Pilo clasped Johnnie's naked calf; they traced their fingers over the smooth skin beneath his knee, thinking how it reminded them of a cardboard box. And they felt safe.
"The US government says I'm white."
Pilo led Johnnie's hand to their lips and started to kiss their way from fingertips to wrist before pausing to say, "The government also says that my gender is female because that's what surgeons tried to make of my genitals that confused them when I was born."
Johnnie kissed Pilo's neck just beneath the fringe of black curls. "We don't have to be what the government says though?"
Leaning into Johnnie's kissing, Pilo moaned, "Yes. We are what we know we are." They released their arm that had been cupping what would have been breasts if they'd allowed doctor pressure to push them onto the surgery table again, releasing the hand to clasp his other knee. "You sure?"
"As sure as I was when I met your beautiful green eyes across the coffee house." He pressed his lips to their cheek. "Does this mean you've changed your mind on cuddling? We don't have to push into anything we and our bodies aren't ready for."
"No, I want to imagine what it might be when we know each better, have access to the barriers we'd like until STIs can be tested for. I like how you shivered when our fingers first touched. Your curls make me think of how soft and yet strong your lips are, the finest mixture of gendered expectations."
"Please say boy-pussy again. It sounds so good with your accent," he murmured.
"Boy-pussy," they responded, their muddled southern European accent lengthening pussy until the pronunciation was as good as a sex act.
"Yes." He hugged their waist. "You will be worth the wait."
"How about that shower?" They traced their fingers over his shins. When he was quiet several long minutes, they rose to stand between his legs. "Well?"
"Sure." He scooted back a bit before standing in front of them. Taking their hand, he led them into his apartment's small bathroom. He slowly lifted his tank top.
"I'm glad to see you were able to get the top surgery you wanted." They brushed their fingertips over the light scars a few inches below his mahogany dark nipples. Smiling, they let their gaze slide down his stomach as he released the short's button, the fabric slid down his shapely legs. His abundant pubic hair made them lick their lips.
He moved into his shower to turn on the water.
They slipped the straps of their babydoll dress of their shoulders, one at a time, before pushing it and their silk shorts to the tile floor; he looked over his shoulder and bit his bottom lip. "Thanks." Stepping out of their clothes, they moved into the shower stall behind him.
"Can I please hug you again?" He held out his hands toward them.
They took his hands and led them around their waist. "Worth it," they whispered against his neck.
"Yes." He gasped and shuddered.
With a soft kiss to his parted lips, they guided him under the water and held him as the tremors eased into stillness again.
To enjoy the other #MasturbationMonday hoppers, click here
So I sent "Backward Dating" to one BR- I still need to touch bases with the wheelchair user who offered to read. I amused myself by creating chapter and giving them names, but not trying for any sort of average word count in them; this is after all my book and if I'm not writing for a more mainstream press, would you expect something mainstream from me? :D That leads me to the announcement of Cuil Press- currently in the creation phase. Cuil Fiction- a term coined by Michon Neal and explained by hir here in a video (and make sure to turn up your volume to hear Michon; ze is quiet)- intersectional, inclusive, mind expanding (those are just some words that come to my mind when I think of Cuil Fiction). This will go through the special to Cuil Press step of "sensitivity editing"- Michon explains the process ze does here. We're hoping this book will be ready for publication by July.
I debated what sort of snippet to share this week, after all I have a polyamorous-v in this story. Arguing that it's more than a matter of semantics, but of identity, having three people engaging in a specific form of non-monogamy has me considering all sorts of things- even "the word menage is getting on my nerves." But I finally decided to go with a snippet of Ocean being a little bit dommy with Naveed on the day they meet.
Naveed pressed his hands against his wheelchair's armrests.
So much pain. I wish I could give him something to smile about. "So I'm the hinge?" Ocean grinned at Naveed.
"It would seem with Suvi being monogamous." Naveed sighed. "Sorry, I'm trying to be less prickly. The only reason I got to come here this year was winning my badge from a website. I'm not even sure where I'm sleeping tonight."
"Maybe you could sleep with me, I mean, in my room?" Ocean suggested.
"I would like that, yes."
Ocean sucked hir bottom lip between hir teeth, hir goatee tickling hir tongue. "Have you, I mean, I find you so attractive."
"Me?" Naveed chuckled. "Here I was thinking what a beauty you are." Leaning forward, he placed a delicate hand on Ocean's knee. "I haven't had any surgeries, if that's what you stopped yourself from asking. Even if I could afford it, it's hard to convince a doctor that gender confirming surgeries are worth the risk when you have fibromyalgia."
Ocean nodded. "I... um... managed to escape any of the surgeries that too often people born with intersex traits are subjected to. Even if I don't look very binary."
Naveed laid his hand on top of Ocean's hand, the reddish brown skin startling even against Ocean's light tan skin.
His touch feels so good. "Do you still want to stay with me?" Ocean swallowed hard, not having meant to get so serious so fast.
"Of course. Our bodies and brains are complex, right?" Naveed smiled. "Here comes Suvi with a plate for one of us."
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