Transgendence

"No, you be comfortable. Being hot in bed is sort of the point, when it's cold. God, did I...?"

He laughed, reading her mind. "You did! Hot in bed, and here's me, thinking we're sleeping."

"We are, Adam. In bed, sleeping. That's what we're doing. Going to sleep." She knew that's all it was.

"Look the other way while I get undressed, then, if you'd rather not..."

"What if I don't want to?" Her eyes were black, and even though he couldn't see her mouth, Adam knew she was smiling.

"Okay then. I'm not the shy one."

"Maybe not, but I am."

Adam turned the other way to strip off his clothes, but when he lifted the covers on his side of the bed, Hannah peeked at him anyway. He quickly slid in, and his side was already warm.

"Oh, you're an angel. You warmed my side of the bed. Thank you." He leaned towards Hannah and popped his finger on her nose to thank her, and to show affection, not desire.

"I thought I should. But you 're bigger than me, so not everywhere's warm. Are you okay?" Now it was her turn to fuss. "It's nice. Can we sleep back to back? Your heat, that'll be lovely."

Adam recognised how Hannah began to chatter when her thoughts ran away from her. "Of course we can, honey, like a big bear in a cave."

His endearment came naturally, and Hannah realised she quite liked hearing it from his lips. "Night, night, then. Mister Man, who looked after me." She kissed his cheek, but turned straight on her side.

Adam rolled too, to face the outside of the bed. He felt her push up against him, her body warm against his in its tee. He placed one arm behind him, his hand on her leg, and Hannah let him leave it there.

"Night, night, you," he said. "We can sort out mornings when we get there."

Hannah smiled. Mornings. He'd said mornings. She lay there, feeling his animal warmth at her back, and was astonished how quickly he fell back asleep. Is that what men did, when there wasn't sex? Her own thoughts drifted and circled, until she too fell asleep.

A couple of hours later, Hannah stirred. Adam was on his back, his breath gentle and slow. The bed was so warm from his body. She leaned over to her bedside table and checked the time on her phone. 3:47. Still the middle of the night.

Suddenly, without really thinking, Hannah pulled her tee up over her head and dropped it on the floor. She wanted to feel her skin against his, to feel his warmth against her breasts. She rolled beside him, lay her head on his shoulder, her breasts and belly up against him. She nestled closer, and an arm came around her. Adam rolled towards her, and there she was, cuddled up against his chest.

"Adam," she whispered, "are you awake?"

But he wasn't, and in a little while, safe in his embrace, neither was she.

* * * *

Hannah stirred. Light was creeping between the curtains. Adam lay on his back beside her, his breath still slow and steady. She checked the time on her phone. It was Saturday, they could be slow, and she was still sleepy. She didn't want to get out of bed, but she knew she'd get a few hours more if she had a wee.

She silently rolled from the bed so as not to disturb Adam, tip-toed to the loo and quickly peed. As she did so, she casually cupped a breast and felt her nipple. It was cold, and the nipple was tight, and felt nice. She wondered when she'd taken off her tee, shaking her head. "Hannah!" She chided herself. She wiped herself, pulled her knickers up. She didn't flush, so as not to wake Adam, but put the lid down.

Quiet as a mouse she went back to the bed, carefully lifted the covers and slid in beside him.

"Adam," she whispered, but he was still asleep, didn't move. She shifted to get comfortable, and felt a long heat against her leg. She froze, didn't move, then carefully ran her hand down his body to check.

Is that him, hard? she thought. She ran her hand over him, feeling his rigid heat, much hotter than the heat of his body. My god, she thought, I've not thought of a morning glory for a very long time.

"Adam, are you awake," she whispered again, but his breathing didn't change. Hannah was curious, to see his thing by itself, without the man's purpose attached. She carefully re-arranged the covers to reveal him, just his centre. She wriggled down the bed so her back was covered by the doona down by his feet, her face down close to him.

Hannah rested her chin on a cradle, both hands, and looked at his penis, which lay long and hard on his belly. She saw how the head was half uncovered from its foreskin, how a big vein curled around the shaft, down its length then going up to the centre, which was darker, like a seam of soft brown flesh. She saw how the base of the shaft joined the heavy balls, one slightly forward and above, one a little lower and below.

She was fascinated. She knew what a penis looked like, of course she did, but seeing this one, almost in repose, even though it was obviously full and functional, was something new. She compared it in her head to pricks she'd seen in porn, and saw that it was almost perfectly straight, not with strange bends or odd angles. Seeing it as an organ, like fingers, or the shape of someone's nose, made Hannah realise that, without its intent, a cock really could be quite beautiful. This one was. It made her think of a marble statute, carved from living, coloured marble. Adam was certainly more substantial than David.

She thought about the way she admired her artist friend's fingers, her young friend from the boat club with her beautiful eyes, even the gawky undergrad where she worked, those amazing cheek bones, of which she was envious.

"Adam," she queried again, then reached out to touch him. Him. The core of him, his sex. She ran a finger along the veins, and as soon as she applied more pressure, the cock bobbed, bounced up. I got this, she thought, and curled her other hand around to hold the shaft steady. The heat in her palm, how could flesh be so hot? 'I sleep hot,' he'd said. You most certainly do, Hannah thought.

She continued her slow exploration, her finger following the big vein down into Adam's groin; she was amazed at the softness of the hair around his balls, and she cupped them, feeling them move in her palm. She ran two fingers up the length of his shaft, paused, ran them around a darker mark, like a faint bruise, the shadow of a leaf wrapped around the shaft.

She ran her fingers up over the head, and enquiringly, pulled the skin back. The hood came back easily and there it was, his long erect cock completely revealed, every bit of it there for her eyes.

Hannah listened to his breathing. Was it a little faster? She couldn't say. His cock felt hotter, and was it going a darker colour, hotter blood? Perhaps it was just the morning light. Curious, she measured his length with her fingers. Her thumb to the tip of her forefinger, stretched out wide, wasn't enough, and she had quite long fingers. She measured his circumference, and her forefinger almost came to the tip of her thumb, in a circle all around. She ran her circled fingers all the way up and all the way down, and it was the same.

She held the shaft in her hand, the back of her hand against his belly, and she rested her cheek in the centre of him, his hot centre. So hot. She could smell him. She pressed her nose to his shaft, and it smelled just like her own wrist, or her forearm, when she'd been for a long run. Skin then, hot and alive.

Hannah, hot and alive herself, and completely aware of her breasts aching and the pulse of sex, her own heat; Hannah carefully rearranged herself until her thighs were on each side of his, and just as carefully, not to awaken him, she placed her mouth over the head of Adam's cock. She held his shaft quite still, she held him in her mouth quite still.

She took her weight on one elbow, and slowly began to suck, to lick and run her tongue over the head. The fall of her ponytail draped over Adam's belly, and she flicked her head to one side, so it didn't fall over her eyes. She looked up to his face, and his eyes were still closed, but his breathing was definitely faster. She began to stroke him, it was the obvious thing to do, and she found herself bending over him to take more if his length into her mouth.

Her thighs quivered. She shifted to relieve the angle, and felt the pull of her knickers against her sex. She clenched, and the cloth pulled a little tighter.

She stroked faster, wanting to know the taste of him. She looked up again, and Adam was looking at her, watching her mouth on his shaft. She felt his hands on her head, lightly touching her hair. He didn't pull her head down onto him, he didn't thrust up into her mouth. He stroked her hair ever so softly, and let her take him.

Hannah was grateful. She didn't want to be taken, to have her face fucked like an orifice, even though she felt Adam would never do that. This was her curiosity, her morning time. Adam's cock was for her, and his silent gesture seemed to acknowledge that. The only time he changed and took her was that moment, just before he came, when he had no choice but to force himself upwards into her mouth, his fingers helplessly clenching her hair, his back thrusting upwards from the bed...

... but when his juice came, those long bursting jets, Hannah was ready. She backed off a little so her mouth wasn't full of his flesh, so his orgasm had a place to spill. She swallowed twice, then again. He was copious, but Hannah drank him down. Some come spilled from her lips so she licked them, and that was when she fully registered his taste.

She released him, and stretched herself up over his body, giving him the visual treat of her breasts with engorged nipples as she moved upwards. They kissed, letting him taste himself from her lips.

Hannah pulled the covers up so they both stayed warm. His big body was hot under hers, and she loved the heat of his penis as it softened between her thighs. She lay on his shoulder and Adam placed both arms around her, softly stroking her hair.

"I'd like to stay here a little while, because it's cold out and you're so lovely and warm. If that's okay." Hannah kissed his shoulder.

She knew it was, because it was her bed after all, and she'd decide who stayed in it.

* * * *

"Have you got anything besides peanut butter and... what is this?" Adam questioned, holding up a jar from the fridge.

Hannah stepped barefoot from behind the counter. She took the jar from his hand with an arch look on her face and held it to her chest protectively.

"This, Adam, is my home made jam. You'll need to ask nicely if you'd like some on your toast." Hannah lectured him in a school-teachery sort of way.

"It's blackberry jam, with every berry plucked by my own fair hand. This hand as it happens, the same one that was wrapped round your cock not so long ago. I've washed it since, by the way." She ended with a chuckle, holding up her hand to re-acquaint herself with it, and to remind him.

Adam nodded back and was impressed. He hadn't expected someone as young and carefree as Hannah to be a master of traditional country skills.

"Goodness, I can't remember the last time I had blackberry jam. Are you sure I can try some?" He accepted the jar back from her. "There's not much left."

"I think you should, Adam. I can't have you fainting on me -- I'm certainly not strong enough to catch you if you fall." She grinned. "Anyway, you need a sugar boost to rebuild your strength after my sapping. Oh, be warned - it has pips and you'll be spitting them out all morning!"

Adam sat back at the little table in Hannah's galley kitchen and sniffed the jar, nodding appreciatively as he scraped a helping onto his toast. Hannah couldn't resist this moment of intimate domesticity. She ran her hands down his arm and kissed his cheek. He looked up at her and smiled. He reached for her, but she grinned, and darted away, teasing him.

"So," he spoke, as he munched, ignoring her provocation, "do you have any plans today? I've been half meaning to find an excuse to visit the Meji gardens -- you know, the ones overlooking the harbour? Gardens aren't the sort of place to visit on one's own. I can't promise any blackberry bushes, though... possibly quinces."

It seemed a great idea to Hannah. She was still getting acquainted with Adam, even though she'd been intimate with him, and the gardens were neutral territory where they'd be able to talk as they wandered. He was right -- there are too many places where you felt conspicuous as a solitary visitor, something she knew all too well.

"You'd need to change, won't you, Adam? You'd be doing the walk of shame wearing your suit in a hothouse -- people would stare." Hannah teased.

"No, that doesn't worry me. Walking with a beautiful woman beside me, who cares what people think!

"En robe de parade - Samain

Like a skein of loose silk blown against a wall

She walks by the railing of a path in Kensington Gardens..." He recited some lines from a poem.

"It breaks my heart to say it, though, but you might need to change. I don't suppose there's a dress code, but dressing gowns aren't exactly best suited for gardens."

He looked up at Hannah, who looked gorgeous and warm in her white dressing gown. She pushed herself away from the counter with her bottom and took a couple of steps to stand astride Adam's legs. Looking down, she gently pulled the belt of the gown, revealing her shower fresh nakedness. She enjoyed the surprised reaction on Adam's face.

"Toast or tits? Tits or toast, Adam?" she challenged.

Adam set his mug down carefully and licked a stray crumb from his finger. Hannah was so close her could smell the lingering orange scent of soap on her skin. He slid his hands to her waist making the gown open like a theatre's curtain, revealing the soft down of her pussy centre stage in his vision.

He tilted his head to kiss the flat of her belly, between tummy button and the gossamer blonde of her hair. His nose caught the warmth rising from her and the homely scent of fresh-washed skin.

Hannah felt a rush of affection for Adam and his old fashioned style. She felt an urge to drag him back to bed and beg for his weight on her. She wanted so much to be consumed by this lovely man. She quenched the flicker of hot desire from her mind and gave herself up to their tenderness, stroking his head and resting her hands there as he turned to enjoy the warmth of her body on his cheek.

He relaxed back into the chair and gazed with contented eyes into hers.

"Bit more toast, maybe?" he smiled mischievously, holding the empty plate to her.

"Grrr -- you're outrageous, Adam!" she laughed, trumped by his humour. "I'm going to get dressed. There's more bread there if you really want it!" She laughed. "Tits or toast. You cheeky bugger, you got both!"

She turned to go back to the bedroom, but was not quick enough to miss Adam's hand giving her a firm slap on the bottom. She shimmied as she disappeared down the hall.

He chuckled to himself, then rose to put the breakfast things in the sink, quickly rinsing them off. He heard Hannah happily 'la-la-la-ing' a song from the other room.

* * * *

"Well, this is all going swimmingly, Jane. Did you always intend me to give him a blowjob on the first morning? That's hardly your style!" Hannah looked up from the screen with a wry smile, flopping back onto the sofa.

"Not at all! But, sometimes these things just happen, don't they? I've been thinking about what you said about passion and maybe you're right -- I do miss out on things because of my ..."

"... modesty and polite decorum?" Hannah interrupted. "Life isn't a Jane Austen novel, Jane, but it doesn't have to be Fifty Shades either. Adam's a decent guy... decent in bed I can tell you!"

"As we've seen," Jane scoffed.

They were both silent for a minute as Jane rested her chin on her hand, winding a straggle of hair round her finger, lost in thought. Hannah was right, but she didn't feel brave enough yet to find her own Adam. Even so, she knew it was unfair to deny Hannah her flirting, more adventurous words.

"If I write you a walk round the gardens with Adam, you could maybe end up in the rainforest biome. All those gorgeous flowers and I think there are birds in there, too. An appropriate place for a steamy scene, maybe?" Jane ventured, looking across to Hannah, who was bouncing her foot absent-mindedly as she lay on the sofa.

The foot stopped swinging as Jane's words sunk in. Hannah swung herself upright with a sharp intake of breath.

"What? Really -- you'd do that?" Hannah squealed, her mouth open in amazement. "It's very public, Jane! Oh -- I'd better wear a skirt then. I was thinking jeans."

"Oh, not jeans! Borrow my Zara skirt, I know you've been dying to wear it. I can't promise it, Hannah. You know I'm not in full control, so don't get your hopes up too much. Maybe you'd be happy with a quiet tête a tête in the tearooms instead? They do nice scones there. It would be quite romantic."

"Oh Jane! There you go again" Hannah rolled her eyes as she slumped back into the cushions. "You're so proper."

She had a thought. "They'll have orchids, won't they?"

"Probably, why?"

"Ask him about bilateral orchiectomies and we'll see how clever he really is!" Hannah laughed, spluttering at her own joke.

"You're an evil girl, Hannah!" Jane chided her, then turned to her keyboard and began to type.

* * * *

Adam stood by the car as he waited for Hannah to lock the front door. She was wearing a short jacket over a loose flowing skirt, for the morning still held a chill on its wings. With the jacket done up with two big buttons she was quite the sophisticate; with it off, draped over an arm when it got warmer, she'd look younger, a simple white blouse finishing the ensemble. Her hair was carelessly bundled up, held in place with a clip. Curls and tendrils escaped, highlights glinting under shafts of light from the morning sun.

She's a chameleon, Adam decided, a changeling. Unpredictable and full of surprises. He was intrigued by her, and intrigued by his own reaction. He liked that. Best of all, she was clever and her own self. He liked that most of all.

"Penny for them?" Hannah asked, seeing his distant look as he gazed at her. She wasn't quite sure how he did that, as if he was in two places at the same time.

"Hmmm? Nothing really, day-dreaming, I guess." He focussed back on her, a slow gaze that enveloped her. "You, actually, I was thinking about you."

"This morning?" she asked, curious.

Neither of them had said anything about their first morning awakening, but Hannah had woken later in his arms with a little dribble on his shoulder and his stickiness dried on her thigh. In the shower, before she got under the flow, she'd touched the silver trace on her thigh, right next to another thin scar. She washed it away, wondering if Adam knew what they were or could even see them. It had been a long time since she'd felt that need.

"No, not really. That was lovely, a delightful way to wake up. But the girl who'd do that? She's the one worth thinking about. Who she is."

"That's very cryptic, Adam. I'm only a girl." Hannah touched his shoulder as he opened the car door. She sat, and swivelled her long legs into the car.

"Only a girl? There's nothing 'only' about you, Hannah."

She watched him walk around the front of the car, seeing his casual elegance despite the black jacket. Without the black tie, and with the top buttons of the shirt undone, she saw that he lost the evening's formality, and was relaxed. He's comfortable in my company, thought Hannah, almost like he's got nothing to prove.

"To the gardens, then?" he asked, turning the key in the ignition. The big car purred at his command.

"My chariot," Hannah replied, willing to be driven almost anywhere. She tilted towards him and laid her fingers gently on his neck, perhaps to guide him, or just to make sure he was there.