(Continuing from 12/24; this is part 2. It's still Audrey, Blaze, and I.)



I cling to Audrey as she scoots us a few inches closer to Blaze. “None of us are cis.”

“How does that make you feel?”

I lift my gaze to Blaze's face and then it drops to their hands. “Um. How should it make me feel? No. Curious. Interested. Good. Different. I'm a thesaurus.”

Audrey laughs at my last statement. “Now, now, little love. Are you forcing eye contact with Blaze that you find uncomfortable?”

I shake my head. “Not at all. They're responding like you or Amy would, not forcing me to maintain the contact longer than I'm comfortable with.” I press small kisses to Audrey's jaw and close my eyes. “I'm working on owning my feelings and remembering that most people aren't unsafe like my mother.” I swallow. I open my eyes. “Most people aren't unsafe like my mother.”

“That appears to be a good thing for you to affirm.” Blaze nods. “Parented differently?”

I giggle. “Good memory. Because even adults sometimes need their parents' support.” I look down at Blaze's hand on the couch. “Please hold my hand.”

Blaze's long fingers wrap around mine.

“Your hand makes mine look so tiny. I like it.” I brush my thumb across Blaze's palm. “I like you.”

“I like you too.” Blaze smiles at me. “Are you still good with talking?”

“Yeah, but thank you for asking. It's good to be reminded that you're open to communication other than just spoken.”

“I particularly enjoyed watching how you used various types of AAC in your Autistic love story, including during intimate moments.”

“Per, Audrey? Might I please lay across both your laps?” I breathe in deep to calm my rapid heartbeat.

“I would love that. Twelve isn't too old for cuddles, in my opinion.” Blaze squeezes my hand before releasing it.

I ponder movement and my body's potential placement. I scoot so my upper back an head are resting on Blaze's... Per's lap. My butt rests between my loved one and love-one-to-be. My legs rest in part over Audrey. I turn my knees so I can tuck my feet behind her back.

“And we have an adorable boy covered back up with his blanket.” Per tucks the blanket around my neck.

“Thanks, Per.”

Per strokes my hair. “It appears that Audrey is having adult thoughts about an adult Joey.”

I glance at Audrey's eyes, those beautifully rich brown eyes, and see the haziness of which Per speaks.

“You know the adult Joey can consent to Audrey, if he wishes?”

“Consent?” I feel my eyebrows and forehead pull tight as if asking a WH-question in ASL.

“You can ask her what she wants and you can say yes or no.” Per leans forward to drop a small kiss on my forehead. “Of course a twelve-year-old can't legally consent in most of the US and I prefer to separate adult interactions from ageplay.”

“Separate how?” I feel Audrey's hand on my knee, but still above the blanket.

“It depends on the moment. Do you feel safe with part of you on my lap and part on Audrey's? Is that enough separation for you as well?” Per moves their arm so it supports the back of my head.

“Yes, Per.” I snuggle my face against Per's plaid-shirt covered belly.

Audrey caresses my knee until I look at her face. “Joey, I would like your verbal consent. To hear your sweet words. To hear you confirm that what I want is what you also want.”

I focus on my swallowing, the substantial being of Per with us, underneath me. “Yes or no? That's what I was missing when I was thirteen. No one had told me I had a choice.” I close my eyes to affirm Per's spoken truth inside me. “Audrey, had I told you yet--“

“Yes, I heard your thoughts, love.”

“Please help me find my masculine vulva and vagina. Please touch me in the ways you need to help me affirm that.” I look up at Per. “But Per, please help me put on a chest binder first.” I ease my legs from Audrey's lap and to the floor.

When I pause, Per says, “Look to the floor.”

I turn my head away from Per; a new black chest binder lays on the floor a few feet from us. “A new binder, Per?”

“Something my boy needs, right?” Per grins at me.

“Thanks, Per.” I struggle to sitting upright with Per's hand pushing on my back. My feet touch the floor as I look down to see Per's hands in the air beside my hips. “Yes, help, please, Per.”

Audrey looks at the screen narrating our actions. “So many commas, dear.”

I wrinkle my nose at Audrey before standing with Per's help. I pick up the binder and look into it. “Per! How'd you know my size?”

Audrey snorts. “I told them your size.”

“You've worn binders, right?” Per rests their hands on my shoulders.

“Yes, Per.” I turn the binder inside out and upside down before holding it out and stepping into it. As I tug it into place, I look up at Per's face.

“The compression feels good, doesn't it?” Per moves their shirt collar to show the strap of their own chest binder.

“Definitely!” I push my pecs into place under my binder. “Per, may I please hug you?”

“Sure.” Per holds their arms out wide and I barrel into the embrace, sighing when Per engulfs me in protective pressure. Their fingers press into my skin, but their hands are still.

I hum into their shirt, not quite trying to make words.

“Can I call you my boy?” Per continues to hold me.

I nod against their shirt.

“My boy, did you forget about Audrey?” At my gasp, Per asks, “May I carry you back to the couch?”

“Please.” I turn slightly in Per's embrace just before they position their arms behind my knees and back to lift me. I sniff. “Hmm, is that vertiver?”

“Yes.” I close my eyes and enjoy the movements. I cling to Per's neck as they relaxed down to the couch.

“You feel so good in my arms. Want help returning to your previous position?”

I nod. My stomach muscles clench under the longer, new binder. I've never worn a full length one. The back of my head again rests on Per's arm.

“Does it help that your tummy is covered? To consider your masculine vulva, that is?” Audrey traces her finger through my pubic hair, across the top edge of my vulva. “Does the fuzzy covering make you feel masculine?”

“Too many questions at once, love! I'm not sure what I think of the long binder. And I'm thinking your aroused expression and my interest are helping most with the idea of masculine vulva, my comfort with Per here.”

Audrey pushes lightly into my body. “Wonderfully pliable. I think of times I've gotten to watch you writhe as Shaman played with clothespins.”

“This is your first full length binder? I'll have to see about getting you some more then.” Per brushes their lips over my forehead.

Audrey brushes her fingers over the meeting of my outer labia. “So softly masculine. I'm always so drawn to your labia. You still like that word?”

I groan, huff a breath through my nose. My gaze meets Per's.

“That groan sounded like it could have been a yes. Was it?” Audrey moves her hand from my outer labia to the top of my thigh.

I lift my hand to sign YES.

Audrey tugs at my outer labia. “I think your inner labia might be the most masculine, the way they hang just beyond the outer lips.”

Per strokes my hair. “Still good, my boy?”

“Yes, Per, excellent.” I inhabit Middle and adult at the same time.

“Stroking your inner labia makes me feel so womanly. Do you prefer my fingertip or nail?”

“Your... your finger.” I cough. “But womanly?”

“Let your mind relax. I'm not saying that your body affirms or changes my gender identity. You affirm my feelings of womanliness.” Audrey continues to stroke my inner labia.

I whimper with the growling arousal that prompts my Skene's glands; how ever do I find such medical words arousing? “Mmm, yes.”

“Such strength in these gorgeous muscles.” Audrey traces her fingers around the opening of my vagina, dipping in shallowly in for my arousal. “And strength in your masculine vagina. It's so you, so wonderfully boyish. I love how your boy-pussy grips my fingers when you're coming.”

I brush my fingers over the bottom hem of my new binder. I look at Per's chin. “Yes is yes?”

“Yes.” Per chuckles.

Audrey slides two fingers into my vagina and starts to move them in scissor fashion. Her thumb presses against my bound clitorophallus. “Can you have a little orgasm for me, my sweet man?”

My butt rocks against the couch and Audrey's leg. “Like you so much, Per,” I mumble.

“I like you too, sweet Joey.” Per cups my cheek with one warm hand.

I close my eyes as the pleasure rockets through me, Audrey's suggestive question prepping my body alongside our chat. “Yes, yes, yes!” I focus on her fingers' movements inside me. I squeeze her fingers as my lips part in a long, long moan.

“That's my love.” Audrey presses down on my mons with her other hand, preventing me from pulling away from her touch. As my moan increases in pitch and volume, she slides a third finger into me.

I push up hard against her hands.

“That's right. You can feel all this pleasure as a consenting adult and I'll make us hot chocolate shortly.” Per kisses my nose.

“Yes!” I crash back down onto Audrey, no longer pressing against her hands. “Thanks, thanks, love.” I turn my head into Per's shirt. “Thanks for being here, my new Per.”

“You're welcome.” Per kisses my nose again. “Audrey, will you sure in the hot chocolate?”
​
“Most definitely.” Audrey kisses my mons.

While I loved Kilted Wookie's photo, I wanted to use the 2-week inspiration picture to write a different sort of 2-parter. I often think of the limits in terms of words to express love; we don't have the same specificity as Greek, for instance. So I want to interact with a new character in a way that crosses between 2 WIPs.
-

Audrey sits in a couch she conjured into my mind. “Since you're impatient...”

“I'm not doing what you're hinting at.” I kiss Audrey's cheek.

Audrey plants a quick kiss on my lips. “Blaze, you have some time to join us?”

“Sure. I just put Wally to bed.” Blaze lifted their hand to make a loose braid in their hair. “So the only physical thing you know about me is my long, blue curls, Joey?”

I lick my lips. “Well, I'm not far into your book yet, and one thing you need to know about me is that I prefer to encounter my characters rather than making too many designs for their being beforehand. As well, you don't seem to be reflecting on your body much; I hope that doesn't reflect my limited understanding of asexuality.”

Audrey pats my hand. “Blaze, do you mind if I cuddle Joey?”

Blaze shakes their head and Audrey spreads her legs so I can sit there, relaxing back into her warmth.

“How much does a body mean? I'm serious. When relationship, when interaction isn't of a sexual, body-joining nature, what does a body's configuration mean?” I study Blaze. My mind and hope repeatedly jump to Audrey's create a Caregiver and wait for them to come to you as I did. “In describing your body, do I risk designing you to my whims?”

Audrey wraps her arms around my middle and gives me a gentle squeeze. “Am I always exactly who you want me to be?”

“Okay. I get your point, love.” I wrap my hands over hers. “But it does seem now like I'm jumping to the impatience you accused me of.”

“How about we reframe this as me being a matchmaker?”

Blaze laughs. “A matchmaker extraordinaire you are.” They lean forward to touch the couch beside my knee.

I cough. “I don't want re-parented, but parented differently.”

Blaze's hazel eyes glow for a moment when I manage to meet them. “I think I have an idea of your meaning.”

“You might touch my knee... Per.” I feel my throat move with my nervous swallowing. Long, thin fingers touch the skin on my naked knee. “Uh, shouldn't I put clothes on if I'm supposed to be, like, 12?”

“There's teens at nudist recreation thing. How about I get you a blanket?” After my nod, Blaze grasps my Batman blanket and eases it down over me. “There you are.” They sat back down in their chair. “Consider please, was your anxiety as you think a pre-teen would act or think back to your own difficult time then?”

“Both. Like, you aren't my Per, really. We've just started to get to know each other.”

“But did you feel this level of distrust when you were chronologically this age?” Audrey brushes my hair back from my face.

“No, it was to start building though.”

“Might I sit on the couch beside you both?” Blaze eases themself back against their chair.

“Yes, please.” I giggle. “I always wrinkle my nose when I see people say that online about guys and kinky stuff they like.”

“But I think in this case that it was a cute response.” Blaze sits on the far end and turns to face us; I turn on Audrey's lap, my legs dangling over hers. “So I can see all the My Little Pony and Jelly Belly stuff, WW2. And all your books. Did I get most of your special interests?”

“Yes. Uh.” I look around for a stuffie. I don't care if I'm supposed to be too old for stuffies! “Audrey, where's Audrey dolly?”

“You mean this doll?” Blaze points at where Audrey dolly has appeared on the couch beside their hip. “She's very pretty, maybe just like her namesake?”

“Such a flatterer.” Audrey tugs on the neck of her shirt as I hold out my hand for Audrey dolly. “Joey doesn't like his dolly to be cleaned.”

“He, him are your pronouns?”

“Yes.” I swallow. “Per.”

Blaze smiles with gentle upward curves at each edge of their mouth. “This isn't some D/s play where you have to force a title before you feel comfortable with it, with me.” Our hands touch as Audrey dolly moves from their hand to mine. “My pronouns are they, them. Do you understand the concept of gender identity?”

“Yup. Like I'm a transgender demiboy. I was assigned female at birth, but I don't feel female most of the time. Like someone recently talked about a feminine penis, I see myself as having a masculine vulva and vagina. Although I don't feel the need to give either of those parts a different name, like some trans men and non-binary people.”

“Although we are working on pecs for your chest.” Audrey traces her finger over my collarbone.

“Pecs is such a wonderful term. It was one of the first terms that helped me with my own gender pondering. Would you like to hear what identity term feels right to me?”

I nod eagerly.

“Non-binary and genderfluid.”

I feel my face stretch as I can't control my smile. “Those were words I used for myself as I was trying to things out.”

“Yes, figuring out oneself is good.”

I tilt my head back to look at Audrey's face. I scrunch up my forehead, hoping she understands my expression.

“Wanna move closer or invite them to?” Audrey kisses my forehead.

​“Move. Us, move.”

UPDATE to add link to the second part of this.

So I was going to write from the inspiration picture, but then I found myself being warned for being too negative when I started talking about my special interests. You see, if you haven't already figured out as a reader of my blog, I'm Autistic and I commonly write neurodivergent characters; if you don't know what that means, it's basically "people who have a different neurotype and often think differently" that includes people who are Autistic, have other cognitive issues, schizophrenics, ADHD for example. Being warned felt like the equivalent of being told that I'm not welcome.

To say the least, I wasn't able to get back into my piece from the picture... I had this revenege fantasy brewing in my head where my Master'd fuck my face and then come on my parents' "Just for show" Christmas tree. Because yes, my parents have long had 2 Christmas trees, although I wouldn't know because I kicked their toxic asses out of my life. At least as much as my Master and therapist have helped me.

but please enjoy this. Not over the top smutty, but I hope still sweet and sexy. And not really edited either. I wrote it in Weebly's creator so you all would get to read it.
--

Audrey takes me by the hand. "Yes, that's a lovely picture. Let's go on and take a shower. You're still too wound. We'll watch Milk together."

I close the toilet lid and sit down while Audrey fusses with our shower. I smile when she droppes two shower fizzies. Socks and Shaman's sweatshirt find themselves on the floor.

After a few moments, Audrey pulls back the curtain a bit. "Come on, love."

I step into the tub and step forward. My head tilts forward when Audrey brushes her soft lips against my neck.

"There you are, baby boy." She continues to kiss my neck before she begins to rub my shoulders. "Jelly Bellies have four calories a bean."

"Adolph Eichmann wasn't captured until the '60s, in Argentina," I respond.

"Sobibor was an extermination concentration camp."

She traces her finger over my spine. "While stories don't agree, Marsha P. Johnson was likely among the first rioters at Stonewall in 1968."

I gasp in pleasure as my mind swirls. "The rioting went on for three nights."

"From the newly merged Unitarian Universalist church came some of the white activists who supported Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and the other black activists in Selma, Alabama. Including three men who were injured, one fatally so." She continues rubbing my shoulders as she presses her teeth against the nape of my neck.

I shudder and press my hands against the shower wall. I sigh as her hands move from my shoulders to my hips. "Less than a wooden duck."

Her hard cock slips between my asscheeks. "You have an excess of Pinkie Pies in your collection, over 10."

"We need to watch Flags of Our Fathers together after Milk. We also need to read your book Shaman got your for the section about Imperial Japan as you know less about that war theatre than you do the European or African theatre."

The pulses of pleasure dance through my body with Audrey's responses and her stroking. "Bodies containing ovaries, uteruses-or is it uteri- and vaginas also usually have two wonderful glands that are involved in arousal fluid production. The Skene's and Bartholen's glands." The orgasm tightens in my nipples and my vagina.

"Goregeous pecs." She brushes her lips against my neck as the tip of her cock slides just above my crack and her cum sprays onto my lower back. "Well regulated militia."
I press my ass back agaist my beloved Audrey. "Can you sleep with me tonight?"

"Yes, love."

"Love you too, sweet Audrey." I turn into her embrace as the water washes over us.

“Touch is a solid theme”- the words of a dear friend when I was trying to come up with posts for July- well, possibly into August as I'd like to work on submitting at least two manuscripts to publishers in August once Camp Nano July is done. I saved her suggestion because, at first, I wasn't really sure what to do with it. However, as I was reading “Too Loud, Too Bright, Too Fast, Too Tight” by Sharon Heller, I realized that I indeed have tactile challenges that I didn't realize. Dr. Heller talks in that book about how tactile is one of the earliest scenes; I was six years old when I didn't want my mother to touch me ever. In my opinion, the book does a great job talking about tactile difficulties as not just being “clothing tags make me itch”; if we went by the stereotypes of “sensitive people,” I wouldn't fit them because I'm underreactive to much tactile sensation. I wonder if that's part of why I've made such shiny spots on my keyboard's keys :D. I also wonder if improving tactile sense is part of why I don't need BDSM impact activities to be as harsh as I used to want them.

“Here's the box from the therapy company.” Ziba placed a small brown box on the kitchen table between Happy's and her mats. After joys nod, she continued, “Would you like to open it?”
Happy passed the letter opener to Ziba.
Quick work with the opener and Ziba had the box open. Not too loud. “It's your brushes.”
Happy typed on joys tablet and pushed a button. “Can we try them now please?”
“Of course.”

While I'm not working on this WIP currently, when my friend made her suggestion, I immediately thought of “Typing My Love.” Happy (the character who's on the Autism Spectrum in that book) doesn't get diagnosed on the spectrum until adulthood- this also joy (Happy's pronouns are joy/joys/joyself) to avoid things like Applied Behavioral Analysis. Another friend responded to my post about EMDR and skin brushing by mentioning how skin brushing had been awful for them because it was done to them as a child; we talked about the differences between their childhood experience and me choosing skin brushing as an adult. I'm not sure if the little bit of fiction between the paragraphs will be fit into TML, but it's definitely a scene percolating in my brain.

Overreactive to tactile. That one has been a track in my head. Even though I feel comfortable saying that I'm on the Autism Spectrum without a formal diagnosis, I definitely struggle with stereotypes about not liking hugs, kissing, sexual activity, etc. Then I realize that my behaviors with that are rather complex and do include a bunch of avoidance. I want to be hugged more, but not by strangers; I'm good with my Master, my girlfriend, my daughter hugging me, the occasional person at church who doesn't put me off too much. But when others with Sensory Processing Disorder and/or on the Autism Spectrum talk about not wanting anyone to touch them at all? I struggle with that; I'm not sure why, with my former comments. Just because *some* people are okay doesn't mean I'm at all average on this. While it doesn't fit Happy very well either- the idea of overreactive to tactile- I'm pondering when an intimate scene between one or more people with overreactive tactile sense might look like. Of course, that sends my mind to a #MasturbationMonday post in which I showed intimacy between an allosexual and an asexual persons.

What to do when an idea is so far from your knowledge that stereotypes are what come to mind? I don't have any characters already created, breathed into life that hate all touch, even most touch- even Didier, asexual but not sex-repulsed, wants cuddles. I'm glad for my reading that explained how touch is more than just people or things touching one's skin, but also the air, the temperature etc.

I want to ask my readers a specific question now, but words fail me as I write this the evening before seeing my med manager (who I don't entirely trust). What are your thoughts about someone being over- or underreactive to touch?

​When I thought of this prompt, I knew I had to write fiction for it. My girlfriend had a suggestion and a Camp Nano virtual write-in gave me the Point of View. Stimming- self-stimulation- is often a way to self-regulate anxiety and other emotions (I talked about some of my stimming last week here). And so, I give you, the scene...


Lady Audrey pulled Joelle to the edge of Shaman's and her bed as Onyx watched from the corner of the room, the soles of his feet pressed against the wall; his toes, shins, and knees pushed into the carpet. Although she wouldn't think of her as Lady.

“So my thought, I have here a variety of fidget toys. Let's see how long you can still use them while I go down on.” Audrey chuckled.

“That hardly seems fair.” Joelle traced Audrey's fingers where they rested on her thighs.

But you'll enjoy the challenge. Onyx licked the inside of his lips, sealing the inappropriate comment inside him.

Audrey passed a rag doll to Joelle.

“Starting with Audrey dolly?” Joelle's eyebrows both flew up.

“You know, half the time you use ASL grammar stuff you've mentioned even when you're not signing?” Audrey grinned. “Yeah, we're starting with your doll of me. She was one of your first serious stim objects.”

Bringing Audrey dolly up to her nose, Joelle gasped when Audrey pressed her lips to Joelle's mons. “Uh uh uh uh.”

“No uh uh,” Audrey challenged before tracing the seam of Joelle's labia with the tip of her tongue. “Unless that's not what your sounds meant.”

“Made sound?”

“Oh, so it's going to be a Joelle not speaking whole words or sentences?” With gentle thumbs and forefingers, slightly closer to a burnt sienna in color from tanning, Audrey spread Joelle open to nuzzle her vaginal opening and bound clitorophallus.

“I hardly... can talk–“ Joelle started only to be interrupted by Onyx.

“If she's the one initiating.” Onyx bit his bottom lip. “Sorry, my Lady.”

Traces of her dark gray lipstick gleamed in the blue lamplight as Joelle's lips parted without sound.
“You have to breathe, sweet.” Audrey leaned in close, obscuring Onyx's view.

Joelle loudly released the used air through her mouth. Her feet flexed so her toes stuck up in the air.

How will she handle stims that take two hands? This isn't even edging, but I feel it.

Audrey pushed her hands under Joelle's ass, preventing her from wriggling back and forth on the bed. “How sweet, you mouthing my doll's hair. No wonder if end up with more love bites from you than from my subs.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

“Onyx, fidget spinner,” Audrey ordered.

Struggling to his feet, Onyx moved to the bedside and gently took Audrey dolly from Joelle. With a sweet smile, he placed the baby pink fidget spinner in her right right. I practiced kneeling in a corner so my legs would not lose circulation as fast. As Audrey leaned in and started to hum, he said, “Just holding the spinner was not what she had in mind.”

“Know that,” Joelle cried. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the spinner. She breathed in with her nostrils flaring; her hands shook as she moved her toy from right hand to between her left thumb and index finger. Her head fell back on the bed as the spinner swirled just within Onyx's line of sight.

Black thumbs pressing into pale peach hips, Audrey continued between Joelle's legs. Her head lifted slightly, her voice almost muffled. “You have to keep it moving, little love.” She pulled one hand out from under Joelle and tucked it where Onyx couldn't see it.

“La la la na na na!” Joelle responded to whatever Audrey had just done.

“That's right. Come again for me.” Audrey lowered her head.

Joelle pushed her heels into Audrey's shoulders. She whimpered when the fidget spinner slowed before wobbling to a stop. In the midst of groans, she fought to restart the spinner's circling. Once the pink toy was spinning, her right hand came down onto the comforter. The fingers flexed and then curled in at the large knuckles. Her scream of release filled the room before the toy dropped to the bed.

“Didn't take long for that to happen,” Audrey teased.

“Yes, so good. Love you,” Joelle babbled.

“Well have to try this again later.” Audrey gripped the bed as she pulled herself to standing. “Let's cuddle Joelle, my boy.”

“Yes, my Lady.” Onyx climbed on the other side of the bed as Audrey led Joelle up by the pillows. He eased the weighted blanket over them. I can sleep with an erection.

​My dear Audrey started talking at me as I tried to come up with this scene; she suggested that she and I try it, since I'm using AAC in a slightly different way with my Master currently.
​
When I finished this piece, I debated if I would break it in parts, but there was no natural break so you get a long scene. It makes more sense if you consider part of Audrey's comment in my memory. If you want to know more about AAC beside seeing it used in this post, I recommend you read my first #TherapeuticThursday post here.
-
Audrey's voice traveled through my memory: Just because you've never been formally diagnosed with anything warranting AAC, never fitted by a professional doesn't mean it won't make our lovemaking that much better. Yes, using AAC can take longer than speech; that'll just be time to make our lovemaking be a longer time together.

I placed the last word on the board, pressing it down well at the corners to make sure it stuck. Grinning, I studied the words and pictures I'd chosen for this board. Audrey, me, me, Audrey, both of us.

“Such gorgeous pecs,” she murmured as her index finger traced over the picture of my chest in my white sports binder.

I tapped on the nipple of her breast pictured.

“So let's take your board to my bedroom.” She grabbed my empty hand and urged me to my feet. “You need a dry erase marker like with your shopping board?”

“Nah,” I murmured. I continued to hold her lovingly moisturized hand as we journeyed down the hallway.

“You gonna let me enjoy learning this board on you first some? We gonna use the ASL YES/NO eyebrows?”

I giggled and nodded. “Both!”

She snatched my board from me before tugging on my sundress and making her eyebrows go upward. Keeping her expression the same for a long moment, she lifted her shoulders to add to her question.

“Di di di di di. You wanna undress me?” I spun a circle.

With a quick movement, she caught the bottom hem of my dress when it spun out. Before I could find my balance, she had the light fabric off me and I fell to my butt on the floor.

“Love you!” I surged forward to kiss the tops of her pretty feet.

“Oh, you! Love you, darling.” Both her hands grabbing mine, she helped me to my feet and pulled me into a tight hug.

I hummed against her, relaxing in the touch and the smell of her. Light, light vanilla. Some nutmeg, like she was making cookies. Oh, almost too cold. I pulled her onto her bed with me.

“Hmhm. Still gonna lay back for me?”

I nodded and scurried backward to place my head on her fluffy white pillow.

“I like that you didn't shave before our time together.” She tapped her short purple nail on “Hair” on the board.

I touched “Go.” I held my breath until she touched the shaved part of my head; I hadn't thought to specify hair-where. Relaxing into her touch, I let my hands slip off my hips and onto the bed.

“That's good. I agree with Shaman. This style is quite fetching on you. I enjoy the dichotomy of shaved and long curls.”

A smile spread across my lips. Passive voice, passive voice! My fingertips tingled as if she said I could stroke her short layer of recently shaved cotton swirls. Twist out! So beautiful.

“Yes, lovely pecs.” She pressed her fingertip against the pecs side; after I nodded, she took both hands and pressed them against my pecs, the skin of her palms just touching above the edge of the sports bra binder. “Binder stays on today?”

I lifted my right hand to sign YES.

“I do love how YES looks like a nodding hand.” She touched “Lower” and raised her eyebrows, their delicate, rich black curves drawing me into her gaze.

Shuddering against the bed, I forced my lips apart even as I pointed to “Go.”

“Good girl,” she purred as she started to draw random shapes across my belly. “I like the idea of you holding up the board 'cause where I hope to be going, I'll need your help to see.”

With a high pitched whimper, my mind caught her teasing hint. I tapped away at “Lower” before grabbing the board and holding it up awkwardly on the bed.

She aimed one finger at “Vulva” with her lips pressing against my lower belly just above where my pubic hair started.

Both my hands tried to move in YES, even the one holding my AAC board up.

“I can't tell if you're signing YES or CAN.”

I gasped; she'd learned some more ASL. I stilled my left arm and signed YES again before tapping away on “Lower, Vulva, Lower.”

“Would it be cruel of me to ask you to speak some of these words?” She smirked.

I let my lips tremble as I strained to make my eyes wide open while blinking my eyelashes at her. I nodded slowly.

“Don't pull that innocent act on me.” She chuckled. “I know you are far from innocent, dearie.”

Snorting, I wrinkled my nose.

“Are you gonna use your words to tell me you don't like dearie? Or maybe point to stop?”

“Don't like use my words,” I snarled and jabbed my finger against “Stop.”

She brushed her finger over “Lips” and “Go” before lifting her eyebrows.

“Yes,” I shrieked.

Tracing the tip of her tongue over my labia majora, she repeated the gesture four times, up and down, before prying them apart to do the same to my labia minora. “Ba ba ba!”

She lifted her mouth from my body and stretched to touch “Bound Clitorophallus” on my board.

I pounded my finger against “Go.” I melted into a long groan as she sucked my clit between her lips. As my breathing slowed again, I poked at “Fingers” and then “Cunt.”

Her eyes pulled up at the corners to show her smile. She shifted until her right hand rested underneath her. Her thumb circled around the opening to my cunt.

Whining, I tapped against “Go” repeatedly. I released a gasp when one of her fingers slid into my wetness, pressing against the inner wall of my vagina. My fingers tightened on my AAC board as I struggled to keep it upright in the midst of my pleasure. “La la la la.”

She hummed against me, the buzz working its magic on my unbound clitorophallus. She moved her hips and her bound clitorophallus pressed against my leg.

“Ta ta ta ta.”

Lifting her mouth from my body, she asked, “Touch? You want my bound clitorophallus to keep touching you?”

I shook my hand “YES!” My toes curled down into the rich brown comforter.

“I wonder if I can find your g-spot now that you're so very turned on. Should I try to encourage a g-spot orgasm for my sweet girl?”

My finger randomly moved over “Go,” “Harder,” “Lower.”

Laughing, her mouth reclaimed my clit as her fingers moved within my cunt's top wall, searching for that elusive g-spot. Her gaze remained on my face. Her pupils dilated when she found it.

“Yes, yes, yes!” I held my hips tight so I wouldn't buck and move her finger off that glorious pleasure spot. Love that I indeed have a g-spot that my loves can find. Verb tense change! My ability to hold my hips still broke and I pushed down on her fingers until an orgasm roared through my body and out of my mouth. So much, too much. I tapped on “Slow.”

“That's my girl.” She kissed my bound clitorophallus. “I just wanna cuddle and hopefully soon we'll explore more words on your board.”

Words need added. “Love you.” My eyelids wavered closed.

Her lips brushed across my cheek. She drew on the bony part of my chest with her fingertip, “I love you.”