Trans-cending Herself

'Hey babe, would you mind making us a nice warm drink, sweet?'

I blinked, not expecting the sudden question. I had been zoned out watching the TV - or at least, I thought I had been. I looked away from the adverts as they played on the screen, some rapid-fire demonstration for a pet hair collector on full display, the beginning of which I had not caught. Must have been dozing off or something, I thought to myself as I refocused my eyes on my girlfriend, smiling a little absently as my brain started ticking over again.

'Uh, sure hun.' I said, licking my lips and huffing as I lifted the blanket from my legs, uncurling them from their position underneath me, exhaling exaggeratedly as the act of moving them after having them cramped up for so long strained my tendons and muscles. Stumbling from the couch, I padded into the kitchen, idly humming some tune or theme song as I went.

I poured some milk into the saucepan, leaning with my arms turned outwards and my palms in reverse on the countertop's edge as I waited for it to heat, looking out through the kitchen window at the night sky above the car. It was a slightly cloudy evening, but our small slice of the outside world was right between two rolling clouds, and I could see some soft, twinkling stars, infinitely far away. I smiled absently as the white liquid slowly reached temperature, blinking back to the present in time to see it beginning to rise. Flicking it off, I quickly took out two mugs—mine and my partner's favourites, hers was sky blue with bees and birds circling it while mine was purple with lavender and sunflowers on it—and spooned chocolate into each in heaping spoonfuls, pouring the warm milk over each. They made a satisfying pouring sound as they filled, a gentle gurgle that indicated all things soothing and comforting.

The hand slipped around my waist, and though it shocked me for an instant, I melted into it almost immediately, smiling and folding into the curve of her body as it appeared at my back. Her other hand slipped around me from the other side, the knuckle of her thumb brushing the underside of my breasts, and I shuddered slightly, feeling the hairs on my arms twitch, as they reacted to the wave of bliss her touch brought to my skin by prickling with goosebumps.

'Hey.' She whispered from mere inches behind me, her voice sounding every bit as intimate as her touch felt.

'Hey.' I breathed, turning my head slightly to the side, though I did not look at her, choosing instead to let my eyes fall gently closed as she encircled me in her arms. I was taller than she was by about a head, but that didn't stop me from being the sub of the relationship, my sensitive 'gentle giant' nature fitting easily into her more masculine, cocksure personality. She was probably enjoying how effortlessly she made me feel so good, enjoying the way I softened at her touch like chocolate in a warm palm, while all I could think about was the warmth of her breasts on my back and the shape of her beneath it. Somehow, though I knew I had felt it so many times before, it was as if I were feeling her embrace for the very first time, as sensitive as a teenage girl sharing her first kiss, as timid as a teenage boy leaning in for his, and as yearning as, well, both of them.

I lowered the pot as her hands parted, sliding over my stomach, covering me in her warmth, her touch just heavy enough to press against my insides. I felt her hands against my uterus, my sides twitching as her warm contact stimulated every nerve. I just let it happen, lost already in her embrace, weakened to anything and everything that she might wish to do to me. Her right hand slipped higher, curving along the underside of my right breast, the small bulge of my bosom moulding in her hand as her fingertips teased beneath my nipple, close enough for me to feel the slightest scrape as my shirt rubbed against it, yet not close enough for me to feel her contact directly on the sensitive nub. I gasped softly as it happened, the act echoed by her left hand as it slid across my hips, dragging lightly across my pelvis at the apex of my navel, gently pulling at my underwear yet frustratingly passing my rapidly heating core, slipping instead over my thigh and curving around it, tracing my shape as if she were a sculptor, and I her work of art. Though I yearned to feel her touch closer to my centre, I remained silent, the thought of doing anything other than experiencing her intoxicating ministrations exactly as she intended them galaxies away from my rapidly addling brain.

'Let's take these back to the couch...' she breathed softly in my ear, trailing off the end of her words as if she intended to say more. I could see her in my mind's eye as if I were looking directly at her, see her intelligent, cunning eyes gazing up past her eyebrows at me as she bit the end off the sentence, almost as if her teeth were the only thing disconnecting it from the rest of what I expected her to say. Her hands slithered from my waist, her left cupping my backside momentarily, just long enough to lightly pinch the cheek as she stepped away. Breathless and most definitely aroused, my heart racing, I picked up our mugs and turned to follow her down to the living room.

The TV was playing the show we had been watching again as we entered, but all I could see was her silhouette as she walked before me, her dark hair flowing from her head, my own tangled, messy brown waves cascading wildly from my head, seemingly the exact opposite of hers. She stepped onto the double-length chair, tucking one leg beneath the other smoothly so that she landed in a half-crossed position, while I rounded in front of her, handing her her mug with not a little shake to my hand. She smiled, taking the cup as gracefully as if she were at church, sipping at the foamy hot chocolate and sighing contentedly. For my part, I could only stare at the slightly brown stain it left on her upper lip, not blinking from my revelry until she licked it away, grinning.

'C'mon,' she said, lifting her other leg up beside her, so that one leg lay cocked on the cushions, the knee pointing away from the couch, while the other was angled straight up, knee pointing toward the ceiling. I turned and sat beside her, feeling the soft cushion depressing beneath my backside. Still caught in the duality of our gentle relaxation and the arousal her touch had put me in minutes earlier, it was all I could do to sip my own drink and stare sightlessly into the television.

'Hey.'

I turned, saw her soft face beside me, her sky-blue eyes alight with colour and feeling. They seemed bottomless - I saw thoughts, feelings, and deep in their centres, the intelligence of a plan unfolding, all within their tiny bounds. I couldn't look away, even as those eyes grew larger, and larger, and larger, until...

It was mine that fogged, my eyelids fluttering as her lips touched mine. They were infinitely soft, as if I were being kissed by a condensed, warmed cloud. Her first contact was barely a full kiss, just the slightest brush of her lips upon my own, not even enough to seal the space between us. I barely moved, locked in the moment as my heart pounded in my chest. It was as if I were a statue, frozen in time, destined to remain exactly as I was right at that instant while she kissed me, the thought of moving in that second every bit as distant as I was from Pluto.

I felt the gentle tug as her skin pulled against mine, the sensation of cool air as her lips pulled away. Even this was exquisitely intimate, my brain hyper-focused on the tiniest piece of skin as it separated from hers. Its departure almost felt like a deep, immeasurable loss.

The spell broke as the kiss did, and a second after her pillowy lips left my own, I rejoined them, moving closer and pressing them together once more. I could have sworn I felt the edges of her mouth twitch in a grin as she met my kiss, but I didn't care; I needed her, yearned for her as wholly as if I were her Shakespearian love, destined by pen and word to adore her until unity or death do us part.

Her mouth guided mine as our kiss hardened, tightened our faces together. When hers began to split, they took mine with them, and when her tongue reached out, searching for my own, mine came forth unrelentingly from hiding, quickly deforming to fit the shape of hers as it pressed against it. I couldn't stop myself from moving in time with the motion of her tongue as she mimicked what I yearned to feel somewhere else on my body, her tongue making love to my mouth as expertly and perfectly as if it were designed for the sole purpose.

I barely noticed when her head began to pull mine with it, so focused on the kiss was I, until my hands were forced to awaken, reaching down to support my weight as she pulled me on top of her, hers holding my sides beneath the edges of my shirt, in the curves of my waist. I put my hands down blindly and didn't care when I found her body, using it for support as I moved atop her. At first, I found her torso, but as she pulled me higher over her, I switched first one hand, then the other to her chest, knowing she would enjoy rather than detest the pressure. Her gentle gasp pulled against my mouth and drew a rush of cool air between our faces as she felt my hands close over her much more generous bosom, and this time it was my turn to grin slightly, enjoying the pleasure I brought her every bit as much as she enjoyed mine.

It didn't take long for the intimacy to overwhelm us. I could feel the heat of her body radiating up into my own equally burning core even as her gently rolling hips suggested her needs to me, and supported as I was by her body, I slid my hands down her sides, hers moving with me. At first, our fingers found one another and interlocked, and we lay there for a few moments, holding each other in place, our hips the only things not yet in contact with one another yet desperate to be so. When they parted, our hands worked together to find the seam of her sweatpants, her thumbs dipping beneath the waistband as my fingertips pressed against her navel, diving beneath the folds of fabric.

I felt her gasp as our combined touch pushed her clothing away from her body, and parted from her long enough to raise myself, stepping above her and allowing her to quickly pull the unneeded leggings from her body. Desire burned in me as I watched her panties appear, knowing what lay beneath that minute slip of material, but we needed to even the playing field before I could continue my approach. Her fingertips slipped up my thighs as her hands offered to assist me, and I allowed them, quickly and easily thrusting my own clothing down my body before I descended over her again with ravenous intent.

This time, my searching fingers slipped underneath her shirt, and when they closed over her breasts again, they found no resistance. I cupped each in turn, working my thumb over each nipple, circling it in a rhythmic spiral pattern until I felt it stiffening proudly beneath my touch, and then pinching it further still, coupling the slightly painful stimulation with a deep kiss that flooded her brain with equal parts pain and pleasure in a way that only built on her sensitivity. She moaned as I dug my fingers into her mounds, her round breasts fitting easily into my hands, my grasp tight but not restricting, rough but not painful.

I couldn't hold myself back much longer, heavily aroused as I was and far too far gone to stop myself. Raising myself from her fully for the first time since I had sat down, I pulled the last sliver of clothing from my lower half and lifted my shirt over my head, crossing my arms across my chest and lifting it away in one fell swoop, my uncovered breasts now as bare as the rest of me and hers for the taking. Descending upon her, it was all I could do not to tear the pink strip of material clinging to her sex from her body and plunge myself headfirst into her. Instead, I leant in close, inhaling her thick musk, her scent fueling my arousal, reinforcing her neediness in a way that could not lie or be faked. I gazed up her shape, seeing the rolling peaks of her breasts, the edge of her face as she looked down at me from the arm rest; the submissive, beanstalk of a girlfriend that she was about to fuck, while she was—well, everything divine and perfect.

She gasped as my touch slipped over her sex, my fingers pressing her already soiled panties into her flesh. I traced her sex with two fingers, slipping them along the ridge of her pussy, using the pressure to gently massage the skin, pressing her entryway together ever so slightly. I could feel her wetness through the fabric, knew that direct contact would send us both into the end game, forcing us together. Desperate to drag it out as long as I could, knowing my own limits as much as I knew hers, I forced my hand back and forth along her folds for as long as I could manage, watching the dark patch between them spreading wider and wider as I worked the lubrication from deep within her. Eventually, though, even I could not bear to see her go another motion without deeper stimulation, and my own body yearned equally for more, and so with one quick pull I tore her panties from her, letting them fall around her ankle as I gazed down upon her bare sex for the first time that night.

Something primal inside me stirred, and before I knew it, I was pressing myself against her, dragging my sex along her body, feeling my sensitive skin sliding against hers, rough yet smoothened by the lubrication we were both exuding. One of her legs was cocked over my hip, the other further away, her foot flat on the floor. I moaned in ecstasy as I felt myself against her, felt her womanhood parting beneath me. It was carnal, animal, a sensation rather than a thought now, driven by desire and lust and heat rather than any intent to perform or reach any specific outcome. My body was in control, and I was barely present, only capable of allowing myself to moan and gasp as I worked both of us up to a sexual crescendo. Lust outweighed everything else, and I could not be stopped now.

Pure sexual neediness drove me as I pressed myself home, feeling her body parting against my own, staring down into her bliss-addled face as I fucked her, powerfully and passionately, her peaked eyebrows and encircled lips all I needed as confirmation that my efforts were pleasuring her beyond all verbal description. My rocking thrusts were enough to pump us both, and I could feel the soft spray of her wetness as my efforts caused her body to eject more and more glistening fluids. She bucked beneath me, and I felt my chest bouncing in time to the rolling wash of her own, locked into the ministrations of impassioned love making.

When it came, it rose like a flaming fireball inside me, and I knew hers was only a few more motions away. Locked on our shared orgasm like a targeting system losing an explosive missile, I set forth the final few pumps that would bring us both to the edge, inhaling her throaty gasps and guttural moans as my fuel and sending myself thundering home as we—

Blinding white light flashed for an instant inside my brain, and in that moment, there was nothing but an overpowering tension in my groin. I felt, rather than saw, myself buried to the hilt inside her parted body, her pussy gripping my engorged length as tightly as if it were her fist, so tender and soft, and yet so powerful and sturdy. I seemed to blink, as if something were not quite right about this - yet it could not have been more correct, for I was undoubtedly sharing an orgasm with my beautiful, lustful partner, one which we both deeply yearned for. It was as if it were at the edge of my mind, on the tip of my tongue, just a few words I could remember, if only I could just grasp it—

—And then I crested the peak, and all of a sudden my body was thundering with electricity as I forced myself home inside her, filling her with every milimetre of myself available and erupting deep into her body, shuddering and groaning as my orgasm—my ejaculation—exploded inside us both.

At the same time, her legs lifted around me, and I felt her body pull me in, both within her and without, as if it were desperate not to allow me to let go. Her pussy seemed to pulsate in rippling waves, tightening around my length as if it were trying to stroke the semen from my body. A moment later, we descended into the rocking pump of orgasm together, and moaned in unison, gasping and bucking in shared ecstatic releases.

When my orgasm subsided and I fell into the blissful rhythm of a post-ejaculation stupor, my hardness still firmly planted inside her, I lowered myself atop her, feeling the thrum of her heart and burn of her heat on my equally hot body as we descended from the mountaintop side by side, her body still quivering, powerful contractions continuing to tighten her around me even as I slowly began to deflate, neither of us doing anything to draw us apart, even as the act drew to a close. As far as I was concerned, I was content to remain inside her for the rest of my life, no matter how small I grew—and she was surely thinking something almost identical.

'You know.' I said hoarsely, cupping her breast in my hand contentedly as I lay atop the other in her embrace. 'For a moment there, I—I don't know, it was strange, I almost felt as if...' I trailed off.

'As if what, babe?' She asked softly, her hand gently stroking my head in a way that made me feel like a little baby ready for a nap. I shuddered beneath her heavenly touch. 'Well, I almost thought I was... A... A girl.' I lifted my head after saying the words, worried she might seem confused, or worse still, disapproving. Instead, I only found kindness and comfort in the face that looked back, and even just that look comforted me more than words could ever do.

'Baby,' she said, stroking my head. 'You are a girl. My girl.' She smiled, and my heart throbbed. Suddenly, a wave of nervousness rose in me - the natural reaction to years of confused gender identity, the broken emotions of a woman born into the wrong body. Confusion, timidness, fear, and trepidation all surged up inside me—but they could not take hold as long as I lay there in her grasp, protected by her watchful gaze and powerful embrace.

'I know, honey.' She said softly. 'I have known, for a long time. It's what the hypnotherapy is for.' She smiled. 'You wanted me to help you... And I am. Slowly, you're turning that struggling mind of yours into the woman you've always wanted to be.' She stroked my head again, and I felt like a puppy in her arms, staring up at her with wide, innocent eyes, eyes full of conflicting emotions and confused thoughts. She was right; I did want to be a woman. And, thinking back, foggy parts of what had happened just before seemed to float back into my mind; stepping from the couch, turning on the stove, my lips meeting hers... They had all felt like feminine moments, as if I thought—no, I knew—that I was female. I could still feel the ghostly touch of her hand running along my breasts, the sensation of her fingertips dipping so close to my pussy, the tenderness of her lips against my own feminine lips, against a backdrop of wavy auburn hair, a slender yet female body, and...

'It... Wasn't real?' I asked half-questioningly, although I already knew the answer, my ghostly memories—and the penis still half-embedded inside her—spelling out the truth unavoidably. I felt that all-too-familiar wave of dysphoria rush over me once more, and only her touch stopped it from taking hold within me.

'It was real, babe,' she breathed, sitting up slightly to look into my eyes more directly, not closing her legs and breaking our contact. 'Not only that, but it can be again, at any moment. And we're working—slowly—on your resilience. It takes a long, long time to grow so comfortable and familiar with an induction that it persists beyond sleep and orgasm, but we're getting there.' She stroked my hair, smiled down at me. She was too gorgeous even for my dysphoria to overcome, and I found myself feeling incredibly grateful for her in that moment, for the truth, the understanding, the true sense of honest self that I shared with her, and which she reflected back at me.