“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?”
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?
I'd asked for some help on this scene on Facebook; I ended up finishing it, although this and the preceding scene are still going to a beta reader for help on Iovita's talking- she's lived her whole life in Georgia, USA, so that's gonna inform her word choice. I don't want to overdo it though, so I've asked for help. I just don't know how much I want, but having had her sign and type mostly so far is making this tricky.
“How about that massage now?” I'm so hungry for touch. She lit the coconut cream and lavender scented candle on her nightstand.
“I'd like that.” Iovita rested her head on her pillow. She lay still as Mairead pulled off her socks and then wrestled off her dress.
“I do so enjoy when you go without underclothes.” Grabbing the bottle of relaxation oil, she moved to Iovita's feet. “You want me to start on your front?”
“It's not like I'm a cishet guy who's gonna be all silly about a woman rubbing on me.” Iovita pulled a scrunched and silly facial expression.
“Uh huh.” She poured some oil onto one palm before putting the stopper in the bottle's neck again. “Tell me if any part feels too tender for rubbing.”
Mairead grasped Iovita's right foot, her thumb running along the sole. She collected some of the oil with her other hand before working on both of Iovita's feet. She inhaled quietly and smiled at the scent of Iovita's arousal over the massage oil. So beautiful. So loving. After rubbing the feet for several more minutes, she let her hands wander to Iovita's ankles. “Calves sore?”
“Not that I feel particular soreness. It's my hips and lower back that are particularly tender,” Iovita said.
“Okay.” Mairead collected some more oil before starting on Iovita's shins with both hands. Her fingers ran through the luxurious leg hair. “I don't know how I ended up in such varied relationships all with people who keep their body hair natural. Well except for Happy's color choices.”
Iovita laughed. “We enjoy sex in the bodies we have. Why bother? Anyway, don't you enjoy the way I use limited energy?”
Grinning, Mairead shook her head at Iovita's comments. “Of course. I'm just glad that even you here in the US where femmes are pressured to shave don't seem to have that cultural baggage. I'm not sure how the trans women here do it, unless they're super obvious about it like Jacob Tobia.”
“Yeah. I think, as a visibly disabled person, I'm not expected to have a sex life at all so I almost get a pass.”
“That's just rubbish.” Mairead moved up to rubbing Iovita's knees, working on one at a time with both hands. “But then there's all too many who don't see long distance relationships such as ours valid.” She licked her lips. “Would you say we're queerplatonic, you and I?”
“You asking seriously or as a roundabout why of asking for something after my massage?” Iovita arched her eyebrow.
“Maybe both?” Mairead shrugged and moved onto the top of Iovita's left thigh. “I don't want to push you into anything physical just 'cause we're living together.”
“We haven't normally engaged in any of the forms of sexuality present in our polyamorous relationship, but I might like too.” Iovita moaned softly as Mairead's hands slid down onto the sides of her thighs. “Okay, not might. I would like to, but I'm not having a lower pain day and I always feel guilty about my ability to reciprocate physically.”
“This isn't the baseball game being scored that is cishet sexuality.” Mairead brushed her fingertips over Iovita's hip creases, just below the swell of her belly. “There's no porno cum shot moment to be had with our bodies.” She poured some of the relaxation oil over her lower stomach and started rubbing gently. “How's your stomach feeling this evening?”
“A little queasy. The cobbler looked so good, but I think maybe it was sweeter than I should have had.”
Mairead nodded and significantly reduced her rubbing so that it was just her hands moving across Iovita's stomach.
So sad that #WipItUpWednesday ended last week, but I've decided to continue with a #WipWednesday on my own, at least for now. Blogging at least a few times a week is very much a "recovering from my nervous breakdown" thing- even my therapist found it a good idea :D. I'm also starting a new writing challenge today; yes, I know, I just finished Camp Nanowrimo yesterday LOL. My daily goal is to do at least one National Novel Writing Month; word count or pages edited is simply going to be icing on the accomplishment cake. I'm thinking to stick with "Typing My Love" for the time being. Just spell checked currently, so here is the scene started a day or two ago that's moving slowly...
Joelle, really? Is this for me not helping in the last bit? I think your Master needs to punish you. Maybe if we have to write lines side by side that'll learn you!
Mairead stopped by the doorway to the bathroom. “Mind if I relax in your company awhile?”
“Not at all.” Iovita smiled at Mairead as she wandered into the bathroom and then put the toilet seat down to sit on the lid. “Rough class?”
“Nah. Not really. I mean, it was mostly repeating myself and making my pre-teens redo their knife cuts repeatedly.” Mairead laughed. “I think we're having vegetable casserole of some sort for dinner tonight to deal with their efforts.
“I think Larissa said she brought in a bunch of fresh cheese from her smokehouse.” Iovita dragged her fingers over some of the bubbles covering her bath water. “What do you have going between now and dinner?”
“I was going to straighten up around here a bit.” Mairead snorted. “It's not like we'll get to any new dishes soon in any of my classes with the knife cut issues today. I'm working on pastry with the teens, but they're still learning desserts that I could practically cook in my sleep.”
“I hoped to be up to some cleaning after a soak,” Iovita pouted.
“And I hoped to do some cleaning and then enjoy giving you a massage.” Mairead arched an eyebrow. “You aren't going to whine more, are you?”
Despite the heat of the water, Iovita shuddered against the bath tub. “You're just too pleased that Happy said you could be toppy with me.”
“Do you mind?” Mairead leaned forward to trace Iovita's earlobe with her fingertip.
“Not at all, but I might not be able to reciprocate much. Ah,” she moaned when Mairead dragged the tip of her tongue in the same path as her finger.
“Tease.” Iovita leaned against Mairead's other hand.
Sasha paused at the bathroom doorway and hissed.
“Don't be salty, miss,” Mairead playfully scolded Sasha. “I'm glad it didn't take me long to get used to no doors.”
Iovita giggled. “At least the cats behave themselves.”
Sadly, this is the last week for #WipItUpWednesday- 3 years of a run :) I invite you to consider my ponder about hops here and to always come back to my site to see what I'm doing. I'll share the link up to the other #WipItUp hoppers at the bottom of this post as usual.
Since it's the last week of this hop, I'm sharing a longer scene (like 1500 words), although I haven't managed to write an actual beginning or end to the whole scene, just the intimacy. Virtual intimacy between Ziba and Iovita because they are across the globe from each other (Georgia, USA and Auckland, New Zealand); I realized that I didn't try to write them being intimate until 94 pages into the book(s). Ziba begins; Iovita is physically in a mall food court.
“I trace your beautifully parted lips with my index finger, my slight nail teasing your skin. Leaning in, I trade my finger for my lips, kissing you softly at first, before easing my tongue into your loving mouth. Your gasps of arousal entrance me further and I lay us face to face on our sides. The fresh grass of this enclosed garden encourages me to remove first my head scarf and then my under scarf. Your wiggling then prompts me to slip out of my taupe abaya before laying back down beside you.”
Iovita pressed her fingers against her lips for a moment before typing, “I feel the need to be instantly naked with you, but can't encourage my muscles to cooperate with me.”
Ziba immediately continued, “I slip my hand underneath your silk blouse and caress the soft, downy skin of your stomach. My hand continues up the middle of your torso before help the blouse off your precious head. So much less fabric separating our bodies. I walk my fingers down your body before stopping at the waistband of your wispy rainbow-colored skirt. 'Can I'?”
“Of course, my love. I'm so glad for the looseness of my skirt, making it so I don't have to move too much. The sun's gentle heat amplifies the grace of our skin caressing as we move against each other.”
“Are you having a bad pain day, my sweet?”
“My legs. I think just my legs.”
“Can I rub them?”
“Please, love.” Iovita looked up from her tablet to see if anyone beside Davey had gathered yet. “Still about twenty minutes in offline time before we should be getting back on the bus for home.”
As if merely accepting Iovita's explanation, Ziba carried forward with, “I drag my fingers up your naked thighs. Would you like a lot or a little pressure?”
“I'm not sure, please just try, my love, and we'll see what feels good.” Iovita squirmed slightly in her chair. Good thing it doesn't show my movement like the plastic chairs everyone else uses.
“I start with light touches, teasingly moving between your thighs. I make slow circles against your exquisite groin muscles, my little finger just brushing over your labia. I kiss your soft lips as my massaging hand moves up onto the top of your thigh before moving to the other one. I lean in to kiss your lips again, catching an uplifting breath of your citrus hair products. I press softly on your right hip to encourage you to lay on your back.”
“I release a harmony of sighs and moans I settle into the grass in your sight. Please. My need.”
“Yes, my love. Alternating between cupping, kneading, and caressing your beautiful body, I move on to our outer thighs. My hair swings forward to hand over you.”
“I tighten my hands into fists to prevent myself from grabbing your hair and turning this from the tender, loving exchange that it is.” Iovita's midpoint clitorophallus grew hard in her underwear. Good thing I have a change of clothes in my basket if I need it. She squeezed her legs together for a long moment to give sweet pressure on her throbbing clit.
“My knee slips between your legs to press against your midpoint clitorophallus. I arch my back so my hands can travel down to your knees and calves with my knee ceasing its caress. Loving the sensuality and sexuality that flows through my body as you writhe underneath me.”
“I love to watch you move like this. It encourages my desire to orgasm without you needing to touch any of the usually thought of erogenous zones. My legs feel so much better. Please kiss me, my love.” Iovita's tongue moved against the inside of her bottom lip.
“Where should I kiss you, my sweetness? Here? I lean forward to kiss the tops of your thighs, two small kisses. Or maybe here? I brush a teasing kiss against the skin just below your navel. Don't tense up, love. You are beautiful with your extra pounds. I lift your right hand to my lips and kiss your fingertips. I suck your middle finger between my lips, taking it in just past your second knuckle. My tongue cups your finger, my saliva drenching your skin.”
Iovita's toes curled up within her comfy, white tennis shoes. “I love the velvety stroke of your tongue on me. Your hazy brown eyes drift over me like pools I want to swim in.”
“I can't help grinning at your lovely words. I slip your finger out of my mouth and lead it between your legs. I lower my chest over yours until our lips meet in an urgent kiss. Your gasp of pleasure just sounds into my slightly open mouth. My gasp echoes yours as your left hand snakes its way between us to caress my breasts.”
“Words, I've read people saying people shouldn't be able to talk during good sex. What is good sex? The warmth of your nipple teases my fingertips. The endorphins of orgasm rush through me, easing the bad pain and bringing me more inline with your energy.”
“Keep your hand going; keep that orgasm going. Feel it continue to rush through you, even if it is not visible within or without your physical body. I love you and I love holding the picture of your shuddering orgasm in my mind's eye.”
“Yes, love. I love you and I love our minds' connection.” Iovita leaned forward to take a sip of her lemonade; four community members had collected at the next table over. “What of your pleasure? What more would you like, allow?”
“Interesting, your word choice, love. I notice your arm slowing in its movements. Are you feeling physically able of giving me pleasure if I kneel about your loving mouth?”
“Of that, I think I capable. I giggle at that thought. I do stop stroking my midpoint clitorophallus, even as I continue holding it, while you move into place. The feel of your pubic hair brushing over my cheeks brings me such pleasure.”
“Are you sure this isn't hurting you?”
“Just lower yourself over my mouth, love. It's my legs that are hurting the most today. Imagine me holding onto your luscious hips. Tell me, love, if any anatomy words feel particularly luscious to you today.”
“I gaze down into your loving eyes, those endearing hazel wells of soul. 'Words that fit a cisgender woman are good for me today.' I feel a moment's hesitation at my unshaven body. Sometimes the differences in our cultures startle me.”
“It's okay, my love. I'm not so US in my focus to care how your body hair differs from Hollywood tries to sell the world. I let my nose dance through your beautifully fragrant pubic hair; it feels so good against my face. Feeling the edges of your labia majora with the tip of my tongue, I keep up the slow caress until I hear your low moan above me. Yes, I move on to kisses and licks on your labia minora, your clit, into your vagina. In the edge of my vision, I see your exquisite thigh muscles just starting to shake. Unh. I could orgasm again just watching your body begin to respond. Or did you really start orgasming when you were enjoying giving me pleasure?” She paused in tapping out her messages; Davey's chair squealed as he backed up from their table. Leaning forward to take a sip of her drink, she looked around to see most of their party gathered. Shit. I want her to feel release before I have to get on the bus.
“I reach up with one hand to caress and pinch my nipples as your loving mouth encourages a wonderful symphony of response throughout me. I may have nearly reached the moments before this point as I nudged you toward ecstasy. I groan as you shove your tongue into my vagina, caressing the now quivering inner wall. I lean backward and place my hand in the grass to keep from smothering you as my body shakes with orgasm. After a few seconds of panting, I ease myself down to your side and cuddle against you. Are your shoulders hurting? Would you rather I hold you in these moments?”
“Lay next to me, love, please. It seems every pain spot you need for a fibro diagnosis is hurting today. It looks like it's almost time for me to get on the bus. Wanna continue afterglow once I'm settled in?”
“Perfect idea. I must admit, physically, I'm still relaxing in bed. Mairead is sleeping after a late night at the restaurant and I came back for more sleep after dawn prayers.”
“Ah, that is a lovely way to spend the morning. I'm going to stow my tablet and get ready to get on the bus. I'll be back in about ten, my sweet love.”
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I was sad to read that this hop is coming to close, but I'll try to be sure to take part in these last two weeks. For today, I decided to edit a scene that i'd written during a writing sprint, but have since done a tiny bit of editing.
Iovita is a wheelchair user and is at a mall.
Iovita stared at the obstacle of the stairs. “My legs are too bad today.”
“Can I help you?” a salesperson asked.
“Are these stairs the only way to the second floor?”
“Definitely not. I was just heading to the elevator with this pallet of items. Would you like to follow me?”
“Yes, thanks.” What a relief. She lifted her head to scan his nametag.
Jack pushed on the bar on the cart. “I keep telling management that we have to have better signage about the elevator.”
“It isn't just a service elevator for employees doing jobs like yours?”
“No. We use it as well because there's only the one elevator, but it's kept clean and well working for customers to use as well.” Jack pushed his shaggy brown hair behind his ear before turning down a path between two areas of women's clothes. “Are you looking for a specific thing once you get upstairs?”
“I want to look around, no specific goal.”
Jack stopped in front of the large, silver doors of the elevator and pressed a button on the cart's handle.
Brushing her fingers over her power chair's direction knob, Iovita waited and adjusted her lap blanket. A nice, new nighty before Per time tonight. Her tablet made a small bell sound to alert her that Ziba had come online. Well it is already Sunday morning for her. She grabbed her tablet and touched the screen before entering her passcode. Clicking on Ziba's picture, she tapped out, “Hi, love. I'm just enjoying an afternoon at the mall.”
“That's lovely. I'm so glad you have the bus for trips like this, allowing everyone of any ability level to enjoy these outings,” Ziba replied.
I think they have that little coffee bar upstairs. I'd like a little treat. She carefully wedged the tablet under her blanket when the elevator doors opened.
“Going up?” Jack asked with a grin.
Iovita pushed the control knob on her chair to start her forward after him. “Thanks for not directly acknowledging my chair or making a big deal of it.”
“You're welcome. I think more people just learn to be decent and not wait until they or a loved one needs to use mobility aids. Although I should admit, I'm an occupational therapist student.”
Laughing, Iovita said, “Well people will always need OT. Who knows? Maybe I'll eventually have you for my therapist one of these days.”
Jack nodded. “If only we could get a real health care system so it's easier for everyone to get the medical help they need.”
“Too true.” The elevator came to a stop. “Thank you so much for your help.”
“You're welcome. I hope you enjoy the rest of your shopping.” Jack waited while Iovita exited the elevator.
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So I realized at 7:30p Tuesday that I hadn't signed up yet. Oops :D I'm managing to write a bit, although I'm working on "Typing My Love" again (for Camp Nano). 6 years after they started dating Happy, Ziba and Mairead move to New Zealand. I had some research, plus I have books waiting for me; people from New Zealand may very well have corrections for me from this very still in-progress. I'm going to share something sweet today.
“Mysie kitty,” Mairead called out as they walked into their flat, Ziba closing the door behind them. She dropped a few kitty treats on the floor beneath the coffee table. “Kitten, kitten?” As she was walking, she undid the pin on the head scarf and pulled it off.
Ziba followed after Mairead, turning on overhead lights. “Mysie? We’d like to pet you.” She removed her own head scarf and folded the navy blue chiffon rectangle before slipping the black under scarf off her hair. She slipped into their bedroom after Mairead and put away their head scarves and her under scarf before joining Mairead beside their bed.
“She’s letting me pet her head a little although she won’t come out,” Mairead said while still looking underneath their bed. “I love her all over ginger color with just this little patch of white on her nose. She’s too cute.”
“I’m glad you like her, habibti. I still feel bad for you giving up Seamus, even if it was your decision.”
“But we can both enjoy this little kitten. Do you have the catnip toy?”
She pulled the small hand sewn mouse from her pocket. “Here it is.” She passed it to Mairead. I’m not sure if I want to make love or simply sleep with her more. You wouldn’t think that we’ve been actually living together some years now. Looking around their room, she nodded when she noticed her prayer mat had been unpacked already.
A tentative meow startled her out of her thoughts.
“Mysie?” Mairead sung.
“Meow!” the kitten licked Mairead’s nose.
“She likes you!” Ziba giggled.
“Or she thought I have something leftover from dinner on my nose.” Mairead joined Ziba in giggling when the kitten slowly began to climb up her arm and onto her chest. “What a cuddly kitten.” She gently rubbed the back of the kitten's head. “You have a preference about where she sleeps?”
“Not really. Wherever she's comfortable is fine, whether that's in bed with us or she picks a spot she likes best. While I hope this means she's over hiding already, it may only be a moment.” We got her that other toy that might be good now. Ziba slowly backed out of the room on her knees before hopping to her feet in the hallway. Grinning, she hurried into the kitchen and grabbed the feather-on-a-stick toy. She returned to their bedroom and got down on the floor with a curious kitten still standing on Mairead's chest.
“I think she's decided my chest is hers,” Mairead said as Mysie completed small circle between her breasts and then curled into a ball of kitten.
“But I like your chest too,” Ziba joked.
“Awww.” Mairead stroked Mysie's ears. “So are there any fatwas about animals being in the room while I couple is making love?”
Ziba snorted. “I'm entirely unsure, but I'll look that up.” She brushed her fingertips over Mysie's back. “Maybe we did end up with a lap cat who'll be happy to sleep with us. Should we see if she'll allow me to pick her up and put her in our bed?”
“Sure. Can you go check thermostat? I swore I set it to 21.”
I wonder how Happy is doing with more of the metric system. At least joy had a few years with Mairead and I in Amsterdam. She sighed and glanced at the thermostat on the wall. It showed 19. She flipped a switch and the heat pump started working. A nice, scented candle; I hope Mysie will leave it alone. She returned to the bedroom and smiled to see her wife and kitten cuddling on the bed. She leaned over her night table and breathed in the scent of her rose candle for a long moment.
So I rememberd #WipItUpWednesday, even if I messed up my Master's work schedule (off work Tuesday night, not Wednesday night). I'm sharing something different; I know :D like I never ever manage different LOL. But I'm going to share my editing note as the scene set up.
Is this even close to any prayer or would this be horrifically offensive to include in the book? This paragraph is lackluster from lack of knowledge and indecision on it.
Ziba stepped into the mosque and headed for the bathroom as she removed her head scarf. She quickly completed her ritual bathing and then moved to the prayer hall. Spotting an empty prayer carpet, she slipped her shoes off beside the wall before approaching the empty space. She knelt on the carpet and began doing whatever Muslims do when they pray. Her breathing pleasantly slowed as peace filled her. “Allah is above all people. Allah is peace. I wish to be a servant of Allah.” She continued through her prayers, focused on the connection.
Okay, trying to put together this post while my Master is being silly across the room, trying to give me the visual of Him putting a can of Mini Ravoli in my asshole and then using it as a plate; He suggested it could go in a book :D . However, I'm not giving you anything that graphic. I had a small window of feeling inspired to edit or write and my daughter got me wound up :(. I want to share a scene that happened "off screen" and I'm hoping to do more with it in my rewrite/continuing write, now that I'm working post-Nanowrimo with "Typing My Love." This is Happy, Iovita, and Mairead chatting while Ziba is off at her mosque praying.
While I'm not sure if I want it in story or just to know it happened in this section, I think about 3 months is a good time for one of the women to tell Happy about the phrase unbound clitorophallus and I think joy will prefer it to testicles. I'm still wondering about testicles though.
"I wonder if we might not have some fun the three of us, some time. Oh Happy, did you know you had it in you to be such a wonderful dominant?"
"You're going to make joy blush," Iovita typed.
"Are you trying to play in ways that might have gotten you in trouble within the scene?" Happy typed.
Mairead laughed. If only he... joy was able to add emotion to a phrase like that. I wonder if joys way of being might disincline joy to use emojis. She studied the private message box for a moment. Finding the emoji tab, she clicked on it before clicking on ten different emojis.
"Mairead?" Happy typed.
"I'm sorry. Just a fecking neurotypical ponder that I allowed to cause me to act."
"Apology accepted. Although I think there is promise within your emoji line. However, instead of the little picture emojis, how about words in [what are these punctuation called]? Like for instance, to say that I am smiling or feeling in a way that might encourage me to smile, I could type: I love Iovita and Mairead [smiling face with huge grin followed by two dark pink and red hearts.] My therapist introduced a tool that was created for work with Autistic children called social stories. Well it seems that my parents did basically that but used spoken words along with their expressions to try to teach me. Remember that while they could tell I was different, the philosophies of the commune meant that medical words like Autism were not used to describe me until I officially got the diagnosis."
"I like that! [smiling face with eyes closed to show excitement]. I love you too, Happy. Do you have any sense of how often you might like us to do these emojis-sentences?" Mairead asked.
After a few minutes of nothing, Happy typed, "Let us try once per sentence. I know it is asking a lot. [Yellow face with raised brown eyebrows, big white eyes that take up most of the face, small straight line of mouth.] And yes, I am aware that I just did a significantly more descriptive sentence because I looked at a page of emojis as I typed. I am not asking that of either of you."
"I can tell Ziba about this so she'll check out this conversation when she gets home," Iovita offered.
"I would appreciate that. LOL. So I was looking at how to go about describing the emoji named kissing face. [Face with a mouth that looks like a sideways W, eyes and eyebrows simple lines, a small circle of light red near the corners of the eyes.]"
"Ah, my love. I like the hugging face! The hands on the bottom of the emoji make me imagine us touching each other," Iovita typed.
Sighs, my life continues to be difficult and I'm hit or miss on posting, whether for this hop or because I've done something. I have to wait until the end of the month before I finally get to see a psychiatrist, but things are working closer to my goals. I've been tending to have this and "Laura Learns" open so I can write in whichever WIP catches my interest and/or inspiration; sadly it's neither too many days still. This week, I decided to share from "3 Months together" (where I'm editing currently). Happy and Iovita are talking.
"Okay, doing Ziba proud." Iovita clicked the submit button on her application to the University of Georgia. "Am I sure?"
A private message from Happy popped up. "How is the day treating you?"
"Hey, sweet. It's good. I just submitted my application to be a student at U of G," Iovita replied as she dragged her teeth over her bottom lip. "You don't think Ziba will be upset that I pushed through and submitted without telling her yet?"
"Ziba respects education too much. I cannot imagine her being upset, but why did you not tell her?"
"Well I'll tell her once she gets online later. I did mention I was thinking to fill it out before she said good night. I have the night off work, so I may be on when she gets online the next, before I go to sleep." Because I wanted to do it on my own seems too lame.
"Yes, our time differences and Ziba's prayer times can make things tricky." Happy's cursor moved to the next line. "Did you pick a field of study? Or what was the correct term that Ziba keeps telling me?"
"Declare a major," Iovita replied. She considered the armrests of her new power chair. "Special education. Can you imagine a little kid who's never seen an adult in a wheelchair before? I mean, with the increased mainstreaming of Deaf children after oralism meant the firing of most Deaf teachers, too many Deaf kids have grown up expecting to die when they turned eighteen. I'd like to change that for wheelchair using kids."
"What wonderful care you have for others."
"Aw, thanks. Did the chocolates get to you?"
"Yes, they did, and I have had an enjoyable time learning to appreciate chocolates. Thank you so much."
An image of Happy reclining on her bed with melted chocolate across joys chest jumped into Iovita's head. Goodness, not in the middle of the day. It's not like Happy and I are in vastly different time zones after all
So the picture inspired me to spend some time with Mairead and Ziba- totally fair since I wrote Happy and Iovita making love during my local write-in on Saturday morning. With Ziba having a Dutch parent and an Indonesian parent (heck if I can remember which one is which at the moment), I envisioned her largely "passing for white," which could cause weird reactions to her as she's a hijabi [a Muslim woman who wears a head scarf is the simplest definition, although it religiously means so much more.) But the picture made me think of a Ziba in her bed waiting for Mairead's attentions.
"Now this isn't very modest, what I find in our bed." Mairead knelt on the bed on level with Ziba's waist.
"But since you're the only one likely to see me here in our bedroom, my habibti." Ziba laughed. "Don't you like what you see, schatje?"
"Tease! Changing languages on me. You know tha' makes me all horny." Mairead traced her fingers over the backs of Ziba's knees, just above the knee high stockings' ruffles. "Is this 'my period's done so sex is no longer haram'? Tell me what you want." Her fingers continued drawing lines up Ziba's thighs.
"Please, I need your fingers and your tongue, your mouth. I... um... laeaq li, uh."
"Lover, that's not a bit of Arabic I know." Mairead brushed her fingers over Ziba's parted labia. Although I have a notion. "Do you want my tongue moving over your clit? Into your pussy?"
"Yes, laeaq li, lick me, lik me maar," Ziba babbled.
Mairead knelt between Ziba's spread legs. "You look so good like this. I hate to reposition you too much." Pulling up at the hips, she encouraged Ziba up onto her knees. Her gaze moved over her lover's asscrack. No, that is not okay, unless some imam decides that sodomy is okay. She bent her head a little more until she could see Ziba's labia. Moaning, she reached out with her tongue to touch the beauty. The wondrous tang of her arousal met her taste buds when she pried them apart and feasted on Ziba.
"My love," Ziba whimpered.
Mairead backed up and turned onto her back between Ziba's legs. She scooted until her head rested in just the right place to pull down on Ziba's ass. Her lips parted and she started to suck, first labia and then clit into her mouth. She caressed the relaxed asscheeks as she enjoyed the moans above her. Her lips released the clit as she plunged her tongue into Ziba's pussy. Pubic hair tickling her nose, she gloried in pleasing her lover, even as her own arousal grew inside her.
Ziba pressed her legs against Mairead. Her body trembled even with her rigid hips. "Mairead." She groaned at two fingers sliding into her cunt. "Yes."
Tip of tongue moving against Ziba's clit, Mairead sought to bring her love pleasure. She pumped her fingers into the wetness. Give it to me. You always come fast, the first time after your period. She stroked the inner wall, feeling for Ziba's G spot. She smiled even as she continued to suck when her fingertips passed over the bumpy, swollen patch of vaginal wall. Wetness dripped down her hand and onto her face as Ziba found her first orgasm.
"Please keep doing just that," Ziba purred as her body shifted slightly above Mairead, hinting that her arms and chest had crashed onto their bed.
Sucking and thrusting into her sweet Ziba, Mairead basked into the continued orgasm as pleasure washed over her, her hips pumping into the air. Such a pleasure to come from her pleasure.
"Love, on my back," Ziba cried out before pulling away from Ziba.
"As long as I can still enjoy making you feel good," Mairead growled as she in turn moved toward the end of the bed to give Ziba room to move.
"Of course." Ziba lifted her hips and then placed her feet flat as she settled onto the bed. "Ik hou van je. My sweet."
Mairead crawled back to Ziba and leaned in to kiss her inner thighs.
"If only my hair stayed still like yours," Ziba commented.
"And then I wouldn't get to enjoy you putting it into an impromptu twist when you're enjoying me."
"That's right." Ziba groaned as Mairead got down to business. "Oh, ja."
Fuck. All the different language dripping from her lips. Mairead traced the entrance to Ziba's cunt before thrusting her tongue in as far as she could. I could do this until she begged me to stop. She gripped Ziba's thighs as she caressed her love. Her gaze moved over the soft brown skin under her mouth, pressing against her nose.
"So beautiful." Ziba's hands moved over Mairead's shoulders. "Don't you want—" Her words dropped off.
Wrapping her lips around Ziba's clit, Mairead thrust two fingers into her pussy again. Her eyelids dropped into a smile when Ziba pushed down onto her fingers. When the muscles relaxed again, she slid in a third finger. Her gaze moved upward to watch Ziba's face tighten until she screamed out her orgasm.
Ziba pushed down into their mattress. "Love, sweet, schatje, let me hold you."
Mairead kissed Ziba's stomach and then withdrew her fingers. Smiling, she crawled up the bed and lay against Ziba's side.
"Let me," Ziba mumbled before taking Mairead's still wet hand and licked away her arousal.
"I've got the stuff for potato pancakes so we can have them without bacon." Mairead sighed as Ziba's tongue dipped between two fingers. Although maybe this is a sign that food will wait.
While Mairead is a fictional character, flesh and blood people like her continue to be murdered at alarming rates. Just for living as their authentic gender. Please spend some time reading about the Transgender Day of Remembrance.