Transgendence

"Sshhh, not now." She smiled shyly at him, putting a finger to his lips in a secret.

Adam kissed the tip of her finger and thought she was lovely, softer than autumn and calmer than summer, that moment, perhaps, when spring stops its flushed eager steps and waits with a breath before sighing, ahh, take your clothes off, be with me. He smiled, she'd done that already. The high sun caught glints of gold in her hair, which tumbled in waves and curls about her face. There was something wild and untidy about Hannah, but peaceful at the same time.

"You're very lovely, Hannah," he said, wanting it said in words, said very softly.

Her eyes shone as she looked back at him. "So are you." She held his gaze for a moment, then touched his arm to affirm it.

"Look, there's the menu, on the window."

She changed the subject, but the mood stayed gentle between them. When she sat down, after they'd ordered, Hannah felt his sticky heat between her legs. "Oops," she said, "back in a sec," and got up from the table and headed for the toilets, bag swinging against her hip.

"Had to put my knickers on," she explained in a whisper, when she returned, "or I'd get a wet patch on my skirt. You rather filled me up, naughty man." She touched his hand. "You can do it again later, if you like."

Adam smiled, his eyes narrowing at the promise. "I would like," he replied, and they left it at that for the time being, a gentle undercurrent flowing between them. Adam leaned forward and took the leaf from hair. She blushed, remembering how it got there.

Their snack was brought to them by young waiter with a smile and cheerful chatter, just enough to be friendly, discreet enough to be professional. "Enjoy," he said, turning away.

Hannah was hungrier than she thought, and the toasted sandwich soon disappeared. She brushed crumbs from her lips, then poured herself another cup of tea.

"So, Adam, we don't know much about each other. Tell me what you do."

"That's very straightforward, Hannah," but he told her this and that about himself, and she told him about herself too; and all the time the spirit of the forest drifted between them and lingered in their looks.

From behind the counter the young man watched them. He'd noticed the age gap between the two and wondered for a moment if they were father and daughter, because he could see their affection; but he couldn't see any kind of family resemblance, and decided they weren't. Then he saw the way she touched his hand, putting her fingers immediately to her throat, and knew they'd been lovers and this was all new.

He turned to his boss and commented, "You know, we should change the name of this place to The Four Seasons."

"Why's that?"

"Coz no matter what time of the year it is, there's always a courting pair. Look at those two." He nodded towards Hannah and Adam, out on the deck. "If they were any hungrier, they'd eat each other. We'd go out of business."

"We should call it The Eating Place, then. Le Dégustation." They laughed, and thought about new signs. "Take them some more coffee and tea," the owner said.

Five minutes later the waiter took out a tray with another round of beverages. "On the house," he said.

"Oh, why's that?" Adam asked.

"The owner. She's a connoisseur, too." He glanced towards Hannah. "You two, you've given her an idea."

"Thank you, that's really appreciated. We'd come back here, any time."

"That's the idea. Part of it." He smiled down at them. "Enjoy."

Adam nodded, but Hannah was far away. "What was that all about?" she asked, coming back to him.

"Don't really know. He said we'd given the owner an idea, but didn't say what." Adam looked back into the café. "All rather cryptic."

His comment inspired a sudden shift in Hannah's thoughts. "I don't mind ordinary crosswords," she said, "but cryptics drive me nuts. Who actually thinks like that?"

"Someone who likes torturing words, I guess."

She pouted. "Poor little words. What did they do to deserve that?"

Adam laughed. "I know, it's so unfair. We should be kinder to words."

"Adam," she said, suddenly serious, "what's your favourite piece of writing, poetry or whatever? If you could only have one book, a forever book. What would it be?"

He pondered his reply. "That's hard. Really hard. A single book?"

"Yes, just one book, like on a desert island."

"That's... that's impossible. I couldn't take just one." He shook his head. "On a beach, I'd write love songs with a stick in the sand, and every night the tide would come in and wash it away, and in the morning I'd have to start all over again."

"You're such a romantic! Would you write about me?" Hannah was curious for his reaction.

"About you? But you're here. I don't need to write about you, if you're here."

"What about when I'm gone? Would you write about me then? Afterwards?" She pressed him.

"After what, Hannah?"

"After us."

"There's an 'us'?" Now Adam was curious.

Hannah laughed. "A tiny one. About this high." She measured a height of about two inches, with her thumb on the table and her fore finger in the air, less than the height of Adam's coffee cup.

"That's a really sweet idea. I like that." Adam smiled. "Do they grow any bigger, these us's?"

"They do," she replied.

"How?"

"By taking me back to your house."

* * * *

"Little us's, this high?" Hannah measured out the height with her fingers, placing them on the desk. "That's really cute. Can you imagine, a tiny me? A Lilliputian Hannah."

She laughed, a wicked giggle.

"What is it?" Jane asked, still staring at the words, running her finger down the screen.

"Poor Adam. If he was that tiny, think how much tinier his cock would be, in proportion. A smidgen. Oh dear!"

"Hannah!" Jane put her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. "You mustn't." She giggled. "A smidgen. I must remember that."

"That scene, though, that was just an interlude, wasn't it? To catch your breath."

"It was," Jane replied, "but there's a restlessness under it, a lulling tension. Like when you look out over a lake and see a flurry of ripples where a breeze has caught it, zigging and zagging like a flock of birds. Something's coming, I can feel it."

She rubbed her arms with a sudden shiver, and felt a tightness behind her breasts. She shifted deliberately to loosen her top where it had drawn tight and rubbed her nipples, then took a bite from a sweet biscuit before turning back to the keyboard.

Hannah looked at her lover, and wondered what she'd come up with, this time.

* * * *

Hannah studied Adam as he drove the big car through narrowing streets, seeing his capable hands, his long fingers, until finally he turned into an underground car park and steered into a parking place. He turned the engine off.

She was still sleepy soft from their love making in the wood and the warmth of the air down by the lake, where they'd stayed a couple of hours enjoying their quietness together. They knew each other a little better now.

"Today's been a lovely time, Adam. It's... you're very gentle. I'm not quite used to that. My brain, it's always rushing, you know?"

"I can see that." Adam looked at her. "But when you stop, there's a... a contentment, a calm about you. As if you've remembered to breathe. Come on, though, my place, it's got a view. Let's go in."

She stood by him in the lift and felt a familiar sensation in the base of her belly as the lift went up. She took his hand in hers, and felt his lips touch her hair. A ghost would have been more solid.

The lift went up like a Pink Floyd record, but when the doors opened there was silence. Adam guided Hannah out, his fingers lightly touching her waist. They walked down a short corridor, and Adam unlocked a door. He stood behind her as she entered his apartment.

"Let me take your jacket," he said, gesturing to a set of coat hooks in the entry hall. He slipped his shoes off, and Hannah took the hint and took hers off too. The carpet was warm on her bare feet.

"This is gorgeous, Adam." She stepped across the living room to the big windows, looking out over the park-lands. In one direction she could just see the sea, and in the other, the low range of hills that sheltered the city. "Awesome view. It must be pretty spectacular up here in stormy weather."

"It is. Sometimes I just sit and watch it all come in. I've got a mini library, a reading room, I guess." He pointed. "It's there, behind that wall. It's one of my favourite places in the apartment. The window is almost like a painting, sometimes, wild in winter."

Hannah went over to see. "So many books! Can I?" She gestured to the stacked shelves.

"Sure. Make yourself comfortable. Can I get you anything? Tea, coffee?"

"Could I use your bathroom? Then tea would be lovely, thank you."

"I'm sorry, yes, of course. It's just through there. Join me when you're ready. English Breakfast?" he asked.

"Perfect."

Adam busied himself in the kitchen until Hannah returned some minutes later and settled into the chair facing the window. She picked up a hardbound art book and slowly turned the pages. Even though she didn't know the artist, she could see the raw eroticism in his paintings of nude... no, naked... women. Intimate paintings, line drawings. In some cases, very intimate, their fingers on their naked sexes. She studied the reproductions more closely, turning each page slowly.

Adam brought a cup of tea to her, and saw Hannah's slow turning of each page.

"Do you want to stay here a while, enjoy these books by yourself?" he asked.

"Can I? These paintings, they're..." She ran her finger around the contours of a naked body.

"Sure, there's no hurry. I'll put some music on. Come find me when you're done - I'm not going anywhere."

He smiled down at the young woman, seeing in her a rare stillness, as if the images were enough to settle her usually fast turning mind. "Don't forget your tea."

"I won't. Thanks for reminding me, though. I'm forever pouring away cold cups. But I won't this time. That'd be rude."

"I'd not thought of it like that. I'd have just thought, 'not really wanting it and being polite; or 'easily distracted...' Or likes art!" He gazed down at her. "We did meet, after all, in a gallery."

"We did, didn't we."

Adam rested his hand lightly on Hannah's shoulder, and was taken again by her tousled blonde beauty. She looked up at him, then rested her fingers lightly on his. She brushed her hair back away from her face, and he noticed a faint scar on her forehead. He wondered what she'd done to herself, some hurtling childhood tumble, perhaps, or some other dramatic encounter when she was older. He promised himself that he'd kiss it later, when she least expected it.

"Any particular music?" he asked.

"Hmmm? No, you choose. Can I join you in ten minutes or so? This book..." She tapped its cover, to show Adam which one she was flicking through.

"Good choice. One of my favourite artists. Him and Klimt. When I was at uni, I had a poster of Klimt's Judith on my door. Those eyes..." He remembered, his eyes going distant.

Hannah thought he was remembering more than the painting, and tried to think what he'd been like as a young man. She couldn't do it - it was impossible to think of his time before she'd even been born. She shook her head to clear the thought.

Adam watched her turn a page, then went back into the living room and turned the stereo on. A soft smoky jazz filled the room. He placed his coffee cup on the table beside the wide lounge, then lay back and closed his eyes. Distantly, he heard the pages turning. After a few minutes the sound of pages turning stopped. Another song started.

"Adam?"

Hannah had stolen her way to him, her feet hushed on the carpet, her arrival silent. She sat on him, her thighs on each side of his, her skirt in a wide swirl around them. She smiled down at him, leaned down to kiss his lips, and began to undo the buttons on his shirt.

Adam placed his hands on her waist, letting her undress him. He watched as she focused on each button, never raising her eyes to him. He listened to her quiet breath and noticed her nostrils taut and a slight flush on her throat. As she pulled his shirt open, Adam helped brush it over his shoulders but still she made a point of avoiding his eyes.

Adam drank in his observer's point of view. He was being invited to look. His mind took snap shots of her features as she moved, conscious of her delicate hands on his chest. He became caught up by her tenderness. He saw the softness of her skin, the tiny red veins in the corners of her eyes, the quills of her eyebrows, the shape of her lips and, when she looked down like that, the crease between jaw and neck.

Hannah had such vibrancy, such life, but also gentle human frailty of flesh and blood. In one moment she was a burst of exuberance, but here she was, thoughtful and sensitive. Her mood washed over him like the turn of the tide on a beach.

Finally she looked up, her head tilted in a question.

"I'd like to take your trousers down, if that's alright," she murmured, as though she was a small girl asking to play in the park. She rolled her hands in circles on his bare shoulders.

"Can I ask why?"

"I want to be certain," she said. She saw puzzlement in his eyes, and explained.

"I need to know how you want me. My needs. My body is complicated and I don't fully understand it myself. Your desire helps. I can only go so far on my own and then I'm full of doubt. You don't have to and I'd totally understand..." Hannah's voice trailed into silence as she cast her eyes down.

"Why don't you show me?" Adam replied softly. "You won't offend me, Hannah. We should be honest with each other -- that's part of what this is about. You and me." Adam was still a little puzzled, but he couldn't imagine anything this woman could want or do that would shock him.

Hannah got off his lap and knelt in front of him. She help tug his trousers off, letting his half hard cock spring free.

She leaned forward to kiss its growing tip, running a finger from under his balls along him, slowly folding her fingers around his shaft. She gently pressed it to her cheek, moving her face over him, to caress her skin like a cat.

His scent wove its spell over her and she became a slave to his male energy. She rocked her head a little, letting his purple skin smooth her lips, measuring his weight and size, before taking it into her mouth. His cock filled her. Her head became its throne, his crown forcing her tongue back in deference, bowing to his pride.

To give every part of her body to his want: that was her purpose. She could never put such ideas into words, but the thought urged her forward and contrite, she followed.

Her tongue rasped against the hot flesh of his cock, her mouth a soft wet cave washed with the salt of his taste. She wanted to swallow more, but had to be content that her lips could slip over the rim of his head. Back and forth her mouth hid and revealed his taut flesh.

Hannah could sense by his soft moans and the weight of his hands in her hair that Adam was ready. She rose to her feet and put her hands to his shoulders, and with a slow smile, asked him to sit up straighter.

Adam offered no resistance. How could he? He sat naked and returned her kiss with equal passion.

Still smiling with conspiratorial wickedness, Hannah turned and stood astride his legs. With both hands she took the hem of her skirt and let it billow over his thighs, covering his twitching sex.

She bent forward, reaching between her thighs to find his cock.

Hannah had planned this of course. She needed plans -- they quieted her mind. That's why she'd felt drawn to Adam. He didn't judge, didn't play his male card, and didn't push her. He was strong and let her come to him in her own time, which made him truly irresistible.

She put his tip to her body. Not her vagina, but her other secret space. She was already wet -- that was her plan too, she'd prepared. His head glistened. It pushed her crinkles into a thin line that ringed his circumference. Geometry in her head, 2πr, the height of her passion, h.

Now to put theory into practice. She bore down, feeling her body gape once. Thus far, she bore its discomfort. Unseen to him, unnoticed by her, she drew in her lower lip and bit it white in her teeth.

'Breathe, Hannah, breathe! Trick me into submission.'

Adam heard her firm exhalation - a slow silent whistle through her lips. The pressure on his cock relented and he felt the unmistakable grip of her body on his sex. His hands rested at her waist in case she slipped but he did not dare hold her, knowing she'd angrily unpeel his fingers. She had to be free.

He heard her breathe again, but with a sigh this time. A sigh that became a shudder throughout her whole body.

Hannah felt very naked. That's why she needed to keep her skirt and blouse on, there was sometimes a limit to how much nakedness she could bear. She felt his thighs touch her bottom and pushed harder down onto him, making him stake his claim, thick inside her. The flag fluttered triumphantly at the summit. The Dead Zone -- isn't that what it was called? A place where you can survive but never linger.

Time is limited. There's always a clock ticking somewhere. There was the time it took to lift herself up, dragging his cock with her at until it began to recede from her tight place. She felt it clinging, unwilling to be abandoned by the hot swirls of her flesh. There was the time she pressed down, testing the stiffness of his resolve. A longer time -- a longer journey and she felt every step, every sinew flex, each muscle yield to him.

He was slick now and the way was easier. Surely the summit was behind them? They both needed to reach the safety of home, the satisfaction of looking back. Her legs were weakening, her strength failing. He would not easily give up what she had given.

Hannah cursed her body. She didn't have the strength to continue. Her legs shook under her, unable to keep pace with this forced march.

It was Adam's moment to show his strength and remind her why she had made the right choice in him. He gripped her waist and they both tumbled to the floor. His iron grip kept them linked. He reached under her skirt to hold her naked hips where they flexed. She was still covered, but hidden, they were joined, his cock in her tight embrace.

Hannah was frustrated by her weakness, but grateful for his strength. Would he always be there to catch her? Her knees might be bent but she was determined to play her part. She pushed herself back against his upward thrusts, feeling his balls tapping her sex.

Her sex? She'd forgotten. She tried to balance to put fingers to her sex, but his were already there.

She cried out in surprise as he drew a line through her lips with two fingers, spreading her hot flesh apart. Oily from her own arousal. He invaded her sex. She no longer cared. She didn't care if he judged her and dismissed her own modesty. Adam knew her every secret and would forever be able to unlock them. She'd let him, he had her key.

His finger on her clit. Circles. Unbearable. There was nowhere for her to hide; not in the place where his penis filled her body, nor where his fingers writhed like snakes through her sex.

His penis. The rhythm of it in her. The glow inside that spread like the sap in a tree; from earth to the heavens.

Adam showed her no mercy. The more her body gripped him, the more he took. Hannah's words were a jumble of obscenities and animal howls, begging him, demanding him, urging him into her.

She was shaking. Her hands were flickering like the wings of a hummingbird, gripping nothing, trying to hold on. Her legs trembled. His finger now pinched, its nail edge grazed. Finally she broke in screams and chaotic gasps, plunging down, gripping him oh so tight.