Transgendence

Adam glanced down at Hannah's legs, and noticed her heels crossed away from him in the wheel well. Her bare legs seemed longer than they had in the car the evening before. She's far more relaxed, he thought. Last night she'd sat on her hands and been upright and tense. Today, she was more like a lean, elegant cat.

The gardens were some twenty minutes away, by the river. There were half a dozen cars in the car park, and a small bus.

"There must be a group tour going on," Adam remarked. "Let's hope we go in the opposite direction."

They set out, choosing a path at random, because they couldn't see anyone else. Hannah hooked her arm through his, and they wandered along a winding path.

"It's like Alice," he said, "in the book. When she steps through the mirror and finds the garden, that's one of my favourite scenes in any book. It's pure magic."

"And the cat, and mushrooms and caterpillars. All those growing and changing things." Hannah loved the book, too.

"Sounds like someone I know," Adam said.

"What? I'm not on shrooms," Hannah replied, then registered what he'd just said. "Oh, the growing and changing things bit. I'd wondered. You've not asked. Everyone asks sooner or later."

"Well maybe some people are rude? What's it got to do with me?" Adam said. "If you're happy in your skin, so am I."

"But aren't you even curious?" Hannah was curious herself.

"Well, I saw that you've had a full op, because, you know, no willy. You showed me, honey, remember. This morning. Anyway, I'd gathered that last night, when I put you in your jim-jams."

They kept on walking, as if they were talking about geraniums or the outrageous price of books, or how bad that new Netflix series was.

"Cute little bows, by the way, on your knickers." He looked straight ahead as he said it.

Hannah stopped. "My God, Adam. Here I am, all trans and everything, and you see the little bows on my knickers? How does that even work?"

"Trans women gotta wear knickers, Hannah. And you like little red bows. So that's the kind of woman you are, a red bow knickers girl. Who is trans. What's the big deal?"

Hannah looked at him, incredulous. Then she grinned; a wide, all embracing, I'm alive under the sky kind of a grin. "I've got a secret, Adam. God, who'd have thought!"

"What's going on, honey? Those drugs, maybe, kicking in?"

Her joy was contagious, and he grabbed Hannah by the waist and spun her around so the halves of her coat twirled open, revealing her long slender calves under her swirling skirt.

"What's this secret of yours? That you're one crazy girl?"

"No -- you know that already," she cried, her voice bright with delight. "This coat and flowing skirt. I was going to surprise you, but-"

"Hannah, you minx." Adam interrupted, equal delight on his face. "Tell me, have you gone commando, today?"

"Maybe," she replied, taking his arm again. They looked at each, seeing mutual delight, but kept walking.

A minute or two later, they paused at a large signposted map, illustrating the layout of the gardens.

"You're an arty type person, Hannah." Adam gestured at an area of sculptures on the plan. "We met, after all, at the gallery. What do you reckon about this?"

"I try to keep an open mind, but I'm baffled by much of the modern stuff. Do you know this artist? Look, we can go through there, then into the main park with all those paths. Sound like a plan?" Hannah sounded pleased with the idea.

The sculptures proved beyond even Adam's expert eye. Huge random blocks of wood with no suggestion of meaning apart from the artist's mystifying title 'Continuum'.

"I wonder what they're getting at? The artist. How do they make you feel, Hannah?" Adam asked, as they wandered amongst them, meeting as their paths crossed. At each crossing, Hannah had let her hand brush absent-mindedly against Adam's. He couldn't decide if she was teasing him with her coming and going or if her movements were like a game children play.

When he asked, Hannah stopped with her back to Adam, who stepped forward to run his arms round her waist.

"I'm not sure. Your friend Jude would suggest I close my eyes and see what thoughts occurred to me," Hannah replied, leaning her weight back into Adam and turning her head to kiss his cheek.

"Good idea. Jude's a clever girl. So, close your eyes, clear your mind and see if this artist is connecting with your psyche." Adam chuckled.

Hannah enjoyed the feeling of protection she felt with Adam. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to rock a little in his arms.

"I'm seeing mists rising and a moon, turned red with the blood of sacrificed virgins and the disembodied head of the artist floating over the ... " her voice ended in giggles at her own spooky mimicry.

"Ok, ok. Seriously." She went on, putting her finger to her lips to concentrate. "First thoughts? I'll go with discombobulation, discomfort and dis quite hard cock pressing into my bum. Am I making you uncomfortable and discombobulated, Adam?"

Hannah chuckled and let her hand stray behind her back to press it against the stiffness inside Adam's trousers.

He gave a little cough to clear his throat in surprise, but pressed himself into Hannah's gripping hand.

"Well, as it's come up, yes, a little."

Hannah turned to face him, running her arms around his neck to let him press his lips to hers. Their kiss was hungry. Adam felt Hannah's lithe body in his arms, then let a hand stray under the light fabric of her blouse, then over the firm flair of her bottom that flexed under his hands as she ground her pelvis into his.

Hannah gasped for breath as their kiss parted. She buried her face into his shoulder, then leaned back a little into his enfolding arms, her hips still pressing and moving against his.

Adam looked into her eyes and saw the want in them.

Hannah gazed long enough to be certain he understood. She turned and took his hand and pulled him into a walk beside her, or was it behind her?

They walked in silence away from the open space of the sculptures towards the dark greens and blues of the arboretum. Curving paths through grass gave way to the grandeur of ancient trees that held the elements of earth and cloud. Their rooted feet clawed the ground with talons of brittle skin, baked hard by age. The muscled trunks of age-long weariness bore the patience of summer and raked the skies with fingers draped with pennants of green.

Hannah looked up into the sky, feeling in her body the sap of growth, the insistence of Nature for life. She gripped Adam's hand harder. She didn't know where exactly they were going, but already knew their journey's end.

At length she saw it. Swathed by low sweeps of evergreen, the trees gestured 'hither' to her. Behind the veil of velvet pine were the straighter lines of a shelter. Mossed with age and green with forest love, she sighed in relief and turned to Adam.

Bemused by the girl's silence, but intrigued by her concentration, Adam had tacitly followed, happy to let her lead. He had no idea of their destination but he too knew her purpose.

Hannah took both his hands in hers and led him with backward steps and a look of contentment in her eyes.

Was it a trick of the light? Deep shadows played tricks but Adam was certain Hannah's face and hair glowed brighter, like a white blossom in twilight. Perhaps it was the light that filtered down to them, through an age of watching boughs, some preternatural glow.

The wooden shelter was neglected. A store for the gardeners, perhaps, full of cobwebbed mowers and nail-hung tools. On the further side, a porch opened out into a lighter glade of light.

"This is perfect," Hannah whispered to herself, then turned to Adam. She pulled him closer and brushed her hand over his lingering stiffness. She slipped her coat off her shoulders, resting it over a neglected rail, wound with ivy. Adam watched as she twisted her hands to her side and unclasped her skirt to make it sail like a flag from her hands, where it fell in a pile with her coat. She continued to strip, almost oblivious to Adam who stood mute as if in a dream.

He gazed at her naked body, long limbed, pale and elfin against the shadows. Hannah reached high above her head, her arms coiling like dancers, relishing her freedom, her naked bliss. Turning in a circle, she ended facing Adam, wrapping her arms around his neck, just as she'd done by the sculptures. Except this time she was naked and so, so alive. He held her body close, caressing her gently, cupping a bottom cheek in one hand.

Adam wondered if this were a dream but as Hannah nipped his earlobe, its sharp reminder brought him back into focus.

"I wasn't sure it was here, Adam. Can you feel it? Can you feel the earth spin under your feet? Forests, trees. I'm sorry, you must think I slipped some narcotic, but I've always found them hypnotic and centering. You know, in my job, we call one electrical connection ground or earth and this is what forests are to me. My earth, my ground. I crave it.

"I've never made love under trees before. I've been naked - as a child I used to undress and become a wood nymph. Just in play - innocent play. In the trees I had no sex. My sex, the penis I had then, didn't matter. It's people that make those judgements. The trees don't care.

"Make love to me, Adam. Be a part of this."

Hannah was already pulling at Adam's shirt and tugging at the buckle of his belt. She lifted her mouth to kiss his. Her lips pursing to grip, their shared breath mixed with skin and pine, their kisses slick with their sap.

She knelt before him, running her hand under his balls, lifting them gently clear of his thighs. She already knew his taste, but not in this place. Her mouth opened to surround the purple head of his sex to make him shudder. Both hands wrapped around his thick shaft. Her hands bumped his balls as she toyed with the veined skin over his hard root within, the bulb of his sex filling her mouth.

Adam worried his knees would fold under him. He rested his hands and leaned his weight onto her shoulders. Below the angle of her arms, her breasts, breasts he had seen but not tasted, quivered as she took him. He pushed her away from his centre gently, pulling Hannah to her feet.

He kissed her lips, still guilty from the temptation of his taste. He ran his hands from her shoulders to encircle the curved softness of her breasts, his palms grazing the bending pink of her nipples. Her complicit hand on his neck pulled him lower. Though he pattered kisses to her skin, he wanted her nipple in his mouth. Hungrily, Adam suckled the firm flesh of her tight nipples between his lips. He heard surprise in her throat and felt her hand gently combing through his hair.

Her nipples were mysterious to Hannah, too. How could those ordinary punctuations to her breasts become suddenly the focus of so much rapture? The soft rasp of Adam's tongue reflected back from her core, deep down inside her. For his every touch, there were a thousand more that cascaded like a sun kissed waterfall. Water fell in her imagination but the heat grew in her body. Wetness melted inside her. She felt her sex wet, the gloss of her sex, oily with need.

"Adam, I want you. Please, Adam." Hannah leaned to whisper the words as his tongue circled her nipple, his teeth grazing their emboldened skin.

She already knew the place. She wanted to be taken under the trees and a low sweeping branch offered itself to her hands. She bent forward, resting her face on her folded arms, her hair falling forward in a curtain.

Adam looked at the girl who was suddenly incomplete, her need dependent on him. Hannah set her legs apart, rising like saplings from the twig strewn ground to the perfect smoothness of her bottom.

He took his stiff shaft to her sex, letting it run first under her body, feeling her flesh catch on its tip. He pressed again, feeling her lips open more this time, their wetness now leaving a trail on his shaft. He looked down, seeing her shine, knowing the next push would be into her. Her cheeks were a perfect soft symmetry against the hard want of his desire.

He pressed again, feeling her lips encompass the thickness of his sex and then the relief as he sank inside. His sex inside hers, her heat, gripping softly on him, already wanting his seed. Her role was done -- she had her man inside her and whatever he wanted he could take. Hannah opened herself for him, took his weight.

Adam gripped the fold of her pelvis in his hands. He looked down in satisfaction, his cock slick with her sex, its head never giving up its place in her grasping heat. She pushed back at him, her breath in punches of air, gasping, impatient for more.

Hannah wanted to be fucked hard -- nothing less would be enough. She felt the comfort of being filled, the thud of his body into hers, but wanted more than this. She couldn't remember what it was, but she wanted it. Her head swam in a hot pool of images -- his cock in her, her own breasts shaking rough against the branch, the prickle of twigs under her feet and the weathered skin of bark under her hands.

Adam leaned forward, less impatient with the thrust of his hips against hers. Instead of desperation, he relaxed into her body. Instead of a panicked survivor, he was the holidaying swimmer, feeling the spring of her body under his, the warmth of her skin in his hands. He slowed, savouring the moment.

He reached a hand under her, pressing its palm to make a ripple of flesh over her belly to the bristle of her sex. A slow, lazy finger met the hardness of his own sex and drew back into the slick cleft of hers. He smiled as he felt her buck at him. His finger tip found the little bud of flesh coiled shyly under her pubis and she bucked again.

Now he had her. There was no escape for Hannah, her penetrated sex and his relentless finger teasing her. It was almost too much to bear, but never quite enough. She didn't know her legs were trembling, or that her vagina gripping needily at his sex. She felt the pinch of his hands on her hips, she saw the blades of grass at her feet, half folded like her body, she heard for a moment the urgency in his voice. Words broke in his mouth and vibrated in her ears.

"Hmmm, fuck, my beautiful girl."

Then the forever sex inside her and the unforgiving finger that bullied the pink shell of her clitoris were too much and her trembling legs failed her, and Hannah collapsed and exploded under the weight of Adam's body. He clung to her tightly, knowing the pull and push, the craving and rejection of too much feeling shuddering through her body in orgasm.

As the waves of her ecstasy crashed through her, Adam's face hardened to finish his. He made three last thrusts deep into her. His first trod heavily, the second pushed him beyond control, and a third in reflex. He too felt the animal shudder that wrung the first pulse from him, then a stronger second, then a third, until he wasn't sure and didn't care how often the spasms shook him.

Hannah's heart leapt to feel him come, throbbing inside her. She no longer thought of folded grass or weathered tree but only this moment of him deep inside her and the wonder of his orgasm meeting hers. She couldn't move nor wanted to. The receding hiss of her climax rippled in her head, and the dying flickers of his pulsed in her body.

Her nipples were scraped by the tree's bark, its skin. 'Happy tree' she mused. On her hip was a pattern of bruises from his too tight fingers, bruises she would later puzzle over then smile. She became aware of his hands on her shoulders, of his voice by her ear.

"Oh Hannah, Hannah. My love, my love," he whispered, his lips pressing kisses to her skin. His hands scooped her tangled hair and his finger traced the line of her ear and it tickled. "Are you okay, love?" Adam asked, his voice soft with emotion.

She couldn't help but giggle. "Okay?" She smiled into her folded arm and resigned herself to straightening up. "Better than okay, Adam, so much better than okay."

Hannah turned to him and suddenly felt very naked, even though nothing had changed. Adam put his hands to her shoulders, sliding them down her back as he cuddled her; but in a sudden flash of awkwardness she wanted to be dressed. She understood his kisses were calming, and bathed in the warmth of his affection, but still stepped for her clothes to quickly dress.

Adam sensed her sudden change in mood and helped. He retrieved her discarded bra and shook it clean of the leaves and the forest. He bent to do the same with her blouse and her skirt, shaking each and for each she thanked him, until she was dressed and he was naked still. She felt an overwhelming tenderness for his nakedness, his shrinking soft penis and the soft down of his belly.

She put her hands around his waist and pulled him scent-filled close, kissing his warm skin.

"Stay naked for me, Adam, so I can see you, naked in my forest."

"Your forest, Hannah?"

"Mine."

Adam wasn't sure if she was talking about him, or the beauty of nature around them. He bent down for his clothes and slowly got dressed. All the time, Hannah gazed at him, running her fingers up and down the branch. The look on her face was strange and unfocused, as if in a trance.

The sweet mood was broken by a flutter of noise as a group of Japanese tourists stopped on the edge of the glade.

"I guess we're not the only ones in the garden," Adam said.

Hannah looked at him, laced her arm through his. "Maybe," she replied, "but we're the ones who loved each other inside it."

Inside her belly, the hot fill of his seed slowly trickled down, leaving her deliciously sticky.

* * * *

"My goodness," said Hannah. "Whatever got into you? That... that was amazing."

She looked at Jane intently, watching flickers of emotion in her eyes. "That's... very passionate, Jane. Very intense."

Jane dismissed Hannah with a flip of her hand. "No, it's... I..." but she didn't finish the sentence.

Hannah looked at her friend more closely. "Perhaps a biscuit and a cup of tea?"

There was a long pause, before Jane answered in a small voice. "Yes, I think that might be a good idea."

Hannah stroked her friend's hair with affection, still wondering what had happened, wondering how Jane had obviously reached deep into her soul to write such a powerful piece about Hannah. Or was it really about herself?

Jane turned back to her keyboard. She had to find out what happened next.

* * * *

As Hannah and Adam walked away from the clearing, she glanced back. She looked back again after a few paces, as if she expected to see someone there. Her expression for a moment held the sadness of parting.

Adam looked at her quizzically. When she realised he was looking, she smiled bashfully. She looped her arm through his, leaving her thoughts where they lay under the trees. Every now and then she leaned her head against his shoulder, like a cat nudging for affection. Adam looked down at her, kissed her hair, but didn't say a word.

She'd astonished him, the way she'd so willing given him her nakedness, her free spirit. She'd been a dryad, like some supernatural, ancestral creature, something primal. He saw a leaf caught in Hannah's hair, and he smiled. It would be excuse to touch her later. She might put it in her pocket.

They walked towards the garden café, looking out over a small lake. Bright umbrellas shaded tables like small merry-go-rounds without horses, and a group of young children ran between them, running fast to catch up, running fast to run away. Happy laughter rattled, and a mother called, "Jemima, careful now, don't run."

"Are you hungry?" Adam asked. "Something light, like a toasted sandwich?"

"Hmmm. Not sure. I might see what's on the menu, see what they've got."

Her hand dropped to slot within his, hiding in his palm.

"That was..." he started.