Woman as a Foreign Language

by Katherine Wyvern

  “Oh,” I whisper. “Oh, you are so, so beautiful,”

  She laughs softly, and draws me down into the bed with her. Suddenly I am lying on top of her, and we are kissing and kissing, deep and fast, tightly furled in a choking, breathless embrace. Her tongue is wet and full of texture onto mine, and I suck on it greedily. I want her in my mouth like I never wanted anything in my life. I want all of her, all of her.

  Her hands are reaching under my dress, pulling it up along my thighs and up to my waist. Half eager and half reluctant I break this endless, too-short kiss, and kneel up, my legs straddling her waist, to pull the dress up and over my head.

  “Darling,” she whispers, in my ear, as I emerge. Nothing else, just that, and I shudder all over just at the deep, gritty sound of her voice. Then I almost swoon at the soft touch of her lips on my skin as they move from my ear and down the side of my neck, waking tingling song-lines to my shoulder, a trail of tiny kisses and tinier bites, that makes me sway, and bend in her wake. I am afloat in her arms, afloat in her voice. Her hands brush my naked breasts lightly, and my breath catches in my throat.

  She pushes me away just a little and pulls her legs out from under me, until she can somehow wiggle out of her own dress. She is such a long, lanky creature; it is a long way for a dress to go.

  Out of her dress she has a lily’s skin, etched with black lace. Limned in candlelight, she’s a luminous white-gold, starred with freckles all over. I want to touch her, and I hold back. She’s like a forbidden fruit, to be savored slowly. I will have her, all of her, bite by bite, but not yet, not yet. I just watch her.

  Her black lace bra holds perfect, taut, pointed breasts. Her panties are black satin, with no lace, only the tiniest black bow at the top. They are smooth and narrow, and I am at a loss. I would have expected something of Julian to show at this point, but there’s only Julia in this room. Her stockings are the darkest smoke grey and trimmed with lace again. The lace draws an intricate tattoo on the whiteness of her skin, and I want to follow it with my fingers. But not yet.

  Her stomach is perfectly flat, with not the slightest hint of a belly, not even when she sits. There are pale blue veins running under the white skin, like fine rivers. She is so thin that her ribs ripple under her skin when she moves, which makes me long to hold her, and, somehow, protect her. Tall as she is, I have never felt like that before. I had never realized how fragile she actually is.

  When she leans down to unzip her right boot, I put a hand on her forearm.

  “Please don’t,” I say.

  “Uh?” she looks up with an expression half curious, half questioning.

  “Please don’t take your boots off,” I whisper. Truth is, I cannot imagine Julia without heels, and I don’t want to, not yet, not now. In some strange way, they are part of her, of her identity, of her incredible magnetism.

  She smiles, a spreading smile that melts into quiet laughter, but she complies, and turns to run a booted foot slowly along my thigh. I can hardly breathe as I put a hand on her calf, and caress the daim of her boots. The leather is heavenly soft, but through it I can feel her warmth and the hardness of her shin bone. My hand runs the length of her boot and reaches her stockinged knee. I run the tips of my fingers off the edge of the boot, very slowly. I discover another kind of softness, smoother, slicker than the suede, and even warmer. She is sitting with one leg folded under her and one foot in my lap, leaning backwards on her hands, with a small, slightly hesitant smile. I smile back at her, and gently I push her to lie on her back. As I kneel between her long, long legs, she closes her eyes with a shuddering sigh. I run both hands along her shins and then up, savoring the changing softness of suede and nylon, and then the slight roughness of the lacy band at the top of her stockings.

  And there I stop. I don’t dare touching her naked flesh yet, yet, yet… I feel that my life will be forever split in two.

  The time before I knew Julia’s skin, and the time after.

  I linger in the moment, wishing almost that I could remain like this forever, balanced on the cusp of this piercingly delicious instant.

  My palms and fingers are wrapped around the edge of her stockings, my thumbs stroke the inside of her thighs gently in tiny circles, and she lies quiet, perfectly still, but her chest rises high at every deep breath, and she’s mine now, mine, mine, mine for the taking.

  It is like a deep breath before the plunge, and when I finally dive, I know she’ll swallow me like deep water, that I’ll drown myself in her.

  My hands slowly run over the edge of her stockings (the edge of the world as I knew it) and onto the burning white velvet of her bare skin, up along her lean thighs, and ‘round her long hips and up again, past the sable satin of her panties, to her sides and her flat, hard stomach.

  Every inch of her skin is smooth, silk smooth and warm, an inebriating white softness underpinned by fast, lean limbs, like a magnificent greyhound, like the wind-born Arab mares of Bedouin legend.

  She’s elf, and angel, and woman, and the sylph of my dreams, but she’s real, she’s here with me, for me. I lean over and lay a slow, slow kiss on the hard of her hip, and one on her stomach and then one, the most tender, slowest kiss, at the cusp of her thigh, where the skin is softest and whitest, softer than the softest silk, cream-supple and hot, pulsing with her life’s blood. As my tongue slowly touches this most secret skin of hers, two tears are running down my cheeks. I keep perfectly quiet until the emotion washes over me. I don’t want her to be scared off by the intensity of my feelings.

  ****

  Julia

  Julia was speechless, entranced, euphoric, paralyzed. She felt on the verge of tears and laughter, all at once.

  Julian had had a few girlfriends in the past, tolerant of his quirk, and even sometimes amused by it, but never one who had embraced it so unreservedly. Never one who would make love to Julia, and with such passionate, rapturous tenderness. Nina’s shyness had been shed somewhere in transit between the sofa and the bed. Julia, who usually thought in words or music, could nonetheless almost picture it, as a discarded layer of skin or clothing, lying abandoned in the passage, like the exuviae of a newborn dragonfly. Nina even almost looked like a dragonfly. She was almost as skinny and flat as a boy, with small breasts, lean buttocks, but she had wide, spectacularly well-muscled shoulders for such a skinny little thing. And her large, dark eyes were unreadable, full of emotion, but still guarded.

  I will change that about you, thought Julia. I will teach you that I am nothing to fear.

  And this newly revealed lithe, strong, young woman, this new Nina, was exploring her body with such elated, unrestrained relish. Julia lay back, utterly still, and let Nina find her way around her. She felt, instinctively, that it was the right thing to do, that Nina’s newly discovered self-assurance needed this period of grace, this time out of time, to blossom, or, again like a newborn dragonfly, expand its wings, and fly. It was breathtaking to watch it happen, as was the simple fact of being able to let go, lie back, and just be loved, for once.

  Still, there were pitfalls, slight logistic difficulties to be surmounted.

  When Nina bent her head to kiss the inner corner of Julia’s thigh, where her skin met the edge of her gaff, Julia’s flickering erection stiffened beyond any chance of comfort or control. With her member stuck between her thighs and half strangled by the taut fabric, things were definitely becoming more than a little strained. What was worse, despite the discomfort, all that delightful satin pressing along her whole shaft, made her even harder. There was no going back now. She could not will it away, or hope it would just deflate by itself, not with Nina kneeling semi-naked between her legs. She could feel her member throbbing with surges of hardly restrained bliss, but a bliss that was so akin to pain as to be hardly bearable. She really, really needed to put a hand in there and turn her cock upwards, where it so desperately wanted to go, but she was reluctant to interrupt Nina’s tender, reverent explorations. On top of everything, Julia had enough self-iro
ny and sense of the absurd to feel that she might burst into laughing any moment, despite her growing physical distress, and she really didn’t want to do that to any new lover, least of all one as thin-skinned as this one.

  So when Nina moved slowly up her body, trailing kisses along her belly, up to her navel, and then further, towards her bra, Julia let out a sigh of relief. She felt the slightest, briefest touch of Nina’s thigh on the front of her gaff and, in the overexcited state she was, she feared she might just go overboard there and then. She gasped and closed her eyes, desperately clinging to clarity. When the wave was over, she deftly lowered a hand between their bodies to adjust things. It was touch and go whether even that brief, business-like contact with her own hand would not make a wet mess of things, but somehow, she managed to hang in there and maneuver herself out of that tight spot. It would not be as pretty as before, but, heavens, she was just in time. One more minute of that and I might have wept.

  Mission accomplished, she slowly lay back and relaxed. Suddenly Nina’s tenderness was twice as enthralling as before. Julia put her arms around the girl’s upper body and drew her closer, to elicit a deep kiss. Their noses bumped against each other, and both laughed softly before their lips met and opened, and their tongues entwined again.

  “Darling,” Julia said once more between kisses. She knew how to pitch her low gritty voice just so, and she felt something arch in Nina’s back, a soft, curling wave of pleasure, in response to that one word.

  A beautiful, heartrending love song played in her head all the time, slow and low and unbearably bittersweet, and Julia almost danced to it, rocking Nina tenderly to its elusive music. I could drink you up, all of you, until you fill my soul, my darling, my love. I will never have enough of you, she thought.

  And when Julia said it again, “Darling,” she felt that ripple once more, the slight twist in Nina’s spine, as if something in Nina’s nervous system was wired just for that, just for Julia’s voice.

  ****

  Nina

  She is just so breathtakingly beautiful. Her voice is like a caress on my skin. No, it’s a caress on my very soul.

  I kiss her lips once more. Her lipstick is all over the place by now, so that my exquisite, flawless Julia has a somewhat wild and disheveled look about her. I smile at her before plunging down, towards her white throat, her neck, her shoulders. I cannot believe that all this is mine to kiss and touch now. There is so much of her to explore, and lick and stroke and feel with all of my being. I make my way down along the length of her body, kiss by kiss. The hollow of her throat, where her clavicles meet, is almost as warm as the cusp of her thigh, almost as soft. The skin in the fold of her armpit is even warmer, even softer. She laughs when I lick her there. Maybe she’s a little ticklish, or maybe nobody ever licked her armpits before. But I want to know all of her.

  I follow a lacy edge up and down to the narrow place where her soft, perky breasts meet, and I would like to take off her bra, see her naked. But she puts a hand out and stops my fingers.

  “Leave it, please. Please,” she whispers.

  So I do.

  For a moment, she holds my hand to her lips, while I kiss my way downhill, to the hardness of her ribcage and then down, down again along the middle of her belly, back to her navel, and further down. At the edge of her satin panties, I find that something not quite female has made an appearance. I have no idea where it came from. It was not there a minute ago, and now it is. I just put it down to the unfathomable shape-shifting mystery that Julia is. Wherever it might have come from, her member seems very eager to be part of the action now. I smile at it. It’s peeking out of the black satin just above the dainty silk bow of her panties, looking both incongruous and oddly fetching. When I bend my head to kiss its tip and take it between my lips all of her body writhes in pleasure. I smile again, and gently pull down the edge of her panties.

  It’s not at all easy.

  ****

  Julia

  Ah. It had to come to it soon or late, thought Julia with a sigh. The sigh was half in delight at the blissful creamy warmth of Nina’s lips on her glans, and half regret, that she had to move, and interrupt Nina in mid-kiss, if things were to go anywhere from here.

  That was the thing with a satin gaff. It had no give whatsoever, and held everything so flawlessly in place. Julia loved the look and feel of it, the exquisitely feminine appearance of her figure when she wore it. She had decades of practice at tucking everything away just so, and with a push here, a pull there, the right twist there, and a firm layer of satin over all, she could pass in the tightest pants or leggings without a worry. A good gaff is a girl’s best friend, she always thought.

  But, it has to be said, getting out of it—is—a—real—bitch.

  She needed to tug at it with both hands, and to perform a rather undignified wiggle and jiggle with her hips before the unyielding stuff could be induced to bloody let go of her, and slip past her buttocks.

  If Nina had an opinion about this slightly comical holdup, she mercifully didn’t voice it. On the contrary, she gently took the gaff from her fingers and helped the black satin down along Julia’s long legs, past her stockinged knees and over her boots. Both the smooth silky cloth and Nina’s fingers caressed her legs lightly along the way, both so featherlike that it was almost ticklish. It made Julia shudder with agonizing relish. Goosebumps rose all over her skin, and she spread her legs wide, just as her long imprisoned testicles blossomed back out of their narrow confines within her lower abdomen and in their natural place. Julia closed her eyes and breathed a deep, liberating sigh. Ironically, that very moment, when all pressure was released, was the only time she could almost feel like she had no man-parts at all. Her back arched in pleasure, and she allowed herself to soar into that feeling for a little while before opening her eyes again and smiling at Nina.

  If she thinks this is all really bizarre, she’s hiding it astonishingly well, thought Julia.

  But in fact, Nina didn’t look freaked out at all, just entranced, utterly mesmerized. Julia had never felt so beautiful in her life. Nina’s adoration made her feel like some rare, exotic work of art.

  I could get used to this. I could get used to her.

  Truth is, I never want her to leave.

  ****

  Nina

  It is strange and beautiful, to see her like this, half female, half male. I so love the perfect smoothness of her, even in those parts. She makes even a cock look silky sweet and womanly, somehow. Maybe that is why I have no hesitation whatsoever taking it all the way in my mouth. I have never done this, and I am not quite sure if I know how. But it doesn’t seem to matter. Her body talks to mine, and I don’t need to think or to know. My wet lips run along her shaft down and up and down again, and ‘round her glans, which is smooth and soft and shaped so that my tongue just wants to curl round and round it, and play on the edge of it, and explore the tiny slit in its center. But mostly I want to have her deep in my mouth, the same way I want her tongue when she kisses me. I am sucking at her greedily while my hands caress the inebriating skin of her thighs and hips and down along her stockings to her boots. I want to feel all of her in this moment, all that make her female, and all that makes her male; all that she is and has ever been is precious to me like my life’s own blood.

  And as I run my lips down her length once more she puts a warning hand to my cheek, and holds me. I think I know what she means, but it doesn’t matter. I take her long pale hand into mine and hold it, my fingers entwined in hers, just as her whole body shudders and tenses, and her member erupts in my mouth, hot and salty and again, and then again. She comes with a moan, and another and then another, her husky voice out of all control for once, wild and loud and free, utterly unrestrained.

  I gently caress her thigh as I slowly let go of her member, swallowing her hot semen. Her hand is still twined in mine, her chest still heaving with deep shuddering breaths. After a minute, she gently pulls me up along her body, until she can kiss me. S
he kisses me deeply, her tongue searching inside me, where a minute ago her member was.

  I lie down flat on her, skin to skin, feeling all of her body along all of my body. For once she does not look so impossibly tall. Our bodies match perfectly, after all. Who would have guessed? I smile with my face pressed in the curve of her neck, and I can feel her smile, too. Something in the way she’s breathing changes, and tells me that she’s almost laughing, softly. Her hand comes to rest on my head in a long, firm caress, and then she turns to plant a slow kiss on my forehead.

  “I love you,” I whisper. “I have loved you since the first time I saw you. I thought you were a goddess. I still do.”

  She really laughs now, but a kind laugh, full of tenderness. When she gently dislodges me from her chest and rolls me on the bed, I whimper in protest, but she smiles that luminous, mischievous grin of hers and kisses my mouth. It is the deepest kiss she ever gave me. I think I might never breathe again, and it doesn’t really matter. I always knew I would drown in her, like a hobbit in a river.

  “I love you, too,” she murmurs in my ear, finally. “It took me a while. I was a bit dense, for a goddess. Forgive me. But I love you now. I really do. I really do. Darling. Oh, darling.”

  I feel faint all over when she says darling like that. Her long, fragrant hair is around me like a downy curtain, and shivers run down my spine, whether from its soft tickling or her voice, I don’t know.

  When she moves down to kiss my neck and shoulders and then my breasts, I shudder and my back arches in pleasure, out of my control. Her mouth is so warm on my nipples, I feel like I will melt and run.

  I am melting and running.

  I am as wet as I have ever been.

  She kneels on the bed, looking sky tall once more, and runs her hand down my breasts and down, her palms side by side on my belly, her long fingers on my sides. When she reaches the edge of my pantyhose I lift my hips a little from the bed, so she can take it off. But she doesn’t. She caresses my legs through the nylon in long, smooth strokes, first down on the outside, then up on the inside, then down again. She cups my ankles, and her thumbs play around their bones while she bends down to kiss the inside of my knees, my thighs, and then my crotch. I am dying, dying, that her lips are so close, so close, and yet separate from me. I moan again, and I can feel her smiling. When her hands reach up again to massage the inside of my thighs, my back arches under me and I moan softly once more. I know that I will beg if she goes on like this much longer. She rubs her face between my legs, and I shudder all over, writhing on the bed.