I live and write BDSM. Age 18+. Scarleteen is great for under 18.
Please forgive any messed up details- I tried for *cramp pain relief in the form of Mike's Hard Lemonade* and while I'm certainly too drunk to drive, I'm still going to write because Pilo keeps babbling at me, well drawing mental pictures for me of what they would like. I warned them that I'm drunk enough that I might mess up their pronouns; they've forgiven me in advance. And yes, again a content warning of anatomy and gender words that might make some uncomfortable. Also I'm amused to give you something to read with no penises present when the penis was such a focal point in the inspiration picture this week.
"It's been fifteen minutes. You can lower the sun umbrella now." Pilo looked to Johnnie's face, even as his gaze nervously tripped up and down their body. "Johnnie?"
Johnnie yanked his gaze to their handsome face.
"There. You encouraged me to undress since we're alone. What of you?"
"Where'd your shyness go?" Johnnie countered.
"It's just the two of us with our bodies outside conventional understanding."
Pulling the umbrella closed, he placed on the grass beside their blanket before turning onto his side. When they raised their arm, he snuggled against them. Their chest with its mixture of softness and strength made a pillow. He fitted his boy-pussy against their thigh.
"You are worthy of feeling good," they said.
"As are you," he replied. "We are both worthy of orgasm, even if our bodies don't mimic the cishet idea of *penis spewing semen into a vagina*."
Their arm tightened around him. "Pleasure for pleasure's sake?"
"Does it give you pleasure when I touch you like this?" His fingers brushed against their lower chest, their upper stomach.
"Yes." They cupped the back of his head with one hand. Releasing a gasp, they looked down at his finger going up and down, up and down, but not heading toward any traditional erogenous zone. His bicep slid against their skin as his fingers came in contact with the inside of their right elbow. A loud moan dripped from their lips.
He pressed his face against their neck and his inhales pushed hot air across their skin. "You smell like watermelon."
"The sun block. I am all too fair, like a pot of cream or a baked Alaska with my tons of birth marks." They sighed. "Your pants feel so good. I've never felt such pleasure with another person, let alone my own touch." Their hand slid to the nap of his neck, under the scruff of his curls.
Responding to the urging touch, he lifted his lips and pressed them to their parted light pink petals of whimpers. His tongue moved over the seam until it opened farther and a tentative burst of their tongue encouraged him to deepen his kiss.
They struggled at tired cliches that tried to explain the burst of gratification they felt from the top of their head to the tips of their toes, feet stretched out and wriggling in the grass. Their eyes met his as the release and the kiss continued. Both hands shot around his shoulders as they clung to him. Defying everything every horrible doctor had either said or merely left unsaid but known, they shuddered against him. They closed their eyes and pulled their lips from his. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."
"You are so welcome."
"Your masculinity doesn't prevent me from giving back as much as you've given me?"
He tilted his head back, his chin in the air. "Uh... no."
"Because you allowed me to touch--"
"My boy-pussy," he supplied into their silence.
"Your boy-pussy in the shower, I hope that I might get to enjoy the extra lesson I got from the nice nurse." With his small nod, they dug into the bag for a dental dam and the warming lubricant they had found at the drug store.
"And because I... don't feel dysphoria... there." He coughed as they shook out the dam and dripped the oil on one pale blue side. He placed his feet on the blanket, his knees falling apart. His hips moved in time with their questing fingers.
They brushed out the latex with gentle strokes, delighting at their heat coming through even the thicker than a condom barrier. Leaning in, they flicked their tongue against his flesh.
"Unh, unh!" He trembled and grasped their shoulders. "Too fast."
Lifting their head, they asked, "Too fast what?"
"Came... too fast."
They sucked on him, pulling the tender flesh wrapped in blueberry-flavored protection into their mouth.
"Yes! Yes!" His hips thrust up and they shoved their hand underneath to grasp his soft asscheeks. His fingers pressed into their skin. "Thank you!"
Wearing a soft smile, they lowered him to the blanket. "Let's be close awhile and then we might see what else they gave us."
"Sure." He again cuddled to their side and closed his eyes as the sun pleasantly warmed their skin.
I'm thinking I may be closer to approximating something that looks like sexual activity people are more used to from this hope :D But I did another dalliance, another tease this week as it seemed that Pilo and Johnnie were just ready for this much. Hopefully next week's inspiration picture gives me a thought too.
Pilo held Johnnie's hands in theirs. "You don't have to prove anything to me."
Johnnie squeezed Pilo's hands. "I'd say the same to you."
They walked further into the field until the grass flattened out. Tugging on their hiking pack's straps, they stopped. "I like it here. You?"
He helped them slide the heavy pack off and to the ground. Opening the bag, he chuckled. "You didn't have to go out of your way to make this an Iranian picnic."
"I wanted to experiment and maybe learn more about your heritage," they protested. On the flattest patch of ground, they arranged a white bottle of kefir followed by plastic take out containers of falafel, humus, and pita. "I remembered correct that you are vegetarian?"
"Yes, thanks." He pulled out the heavy blanket and spread it across the scrub grass. Lowering himself onto the red fabric, he then tilted his head back and their gazes met. "Thanks." Hands connecting again, he helped them onto the blanket beside him.
They straightened their faux silk slacks. Breathing in deeply, they closed their eyes to appreciate the warmth of the sun. His lips touched their cheek and moved away before they could open their eyes.
"Falafel?" he asked, his voice so calming with their eyes closed.
"Please." The next moment, a pleasantly warm ball popped between their lips. Finally opening their eyes, they smiled at him around chewing.
"So we have our supplies from Planned Parenthood," he began, his tone almost making it a question. They nodded and he continued, "And you are sure that you want to do this? Too."
Their eyes open this time, he leaned in to kiss their cheek; their throat moved with their swallowing, pushing the last of the falafel down. They held in a whimper when his lips pressed against theirs. When he pulled back, they murmured, "The scar tissue is too thick for me to feel anything."
He took a sip from his glass of kefir. "Might I ask how you've tested this?" He kissed their neck just below their earlobe. "You seem to be enjoying everything else I've done."
"I didn't feel anything, not even pain, when I lost my virginity."
Clearing his throat, he fed them a fingerful of humus. His finger retreating from their mouth, he said, "I don't think a hetero-sexist notion of virginity helps with either of our diverse bodies." He kissed lower on their neck.
"When I had sex with a seemingly typical guy that one time, I didn't feel anything between my legs," they said.
"Do you feel you're worthy of pleasure?" He pressed a closed mouthed kiss to their rounded chin.
"Your interest in me makes me feel worthy."
He traced his fingers over the shoulder of their tank top. "Mind if I get comfy naked since we're far enough away from any paths?"
They nodded and scooped some humus with a triangle of pita. Chewing, the lowered their gaze as if not wanting to stare at him grabbing the bottom hem of his forest green tank and lifting it off his torso. Their toes curling in their cotton bags of shoes, their gaze dropped to his waistband.
"Soon enough," he said.
Click here to enjoy the lovely inspiration picture Kayla shared and the other people sharing their lovely bit for the #MasturbationMonday hop!
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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