FRIDAY ^#36

Fuck Trauma

“I don’t think it’s contagious,” Violet said, coughing, “but I don’t want to take any risks.” She lay like an angel in her cotton panties and thin white tank top on her purple cloud of a comforter.

“I understand,” I said. I shimmied out of my sweater and pants. “We’re almost matching.” I pointed to my undershirt and panties. “I don’t want to catch your cold, but I’m bummed we didn’t get to play last Friday during the workshop, and I’ll be away on a family vacation next Friday.” I joined her on the bed, nuzzling her neck but avoiding her mouth.

“Why do you have to go on a Disney cruise for Mason’s fifth birthday?” she pouted. “Why can’t you take him to Chuck E. Cheese or something local?”

“Don’t be jealous.”

“Hey, if you can be jealous of tantra master Charles Muir, I can be jealous of you going to the Caribbean.”

“I wasn’t jealous of Charles,” I clarified, pulling her closer, “just envious he’s in a male body. As a healer, there are certain frequencies I can never fully embody.”

Violet turned and cupped my face. “Charles is gifted, I’ll admit, but it actually reminded me of how you touch me.”

“Really?”

“You can be every bit as masculine as he is,” she said, stroking my shoulder. “Do you want me to start calling you Sir?”

I laughed and relaxed into the sensations under her busy hands, which made their way between my legs. “You know, Damien said the immune system of the vagina is totally different from the mucosal lining in the mouth, nose, and eyes. Common viruses can’t transmit through the genitals, so, technically, I could still go down on you, if you want.”

“I’ve always wondered about that,” Violet said.

I pleaded, “Orgasm is the best medicine.”

She kissed my neck, and giggled more. “See, you can be a powerful healer too.”

“But I don’t have the Buddha body or big man-hands like Charles does.”

“I can use my imagination.”

“Lie down,” I commanded. “Let me look at you.” I repositioned Violet at the side of the bed with her legs hanging off and pulled her white cotton panties down, but not all the way off.

“Are you going to look at me the way men look at women . . . like meat?” she asked playfully.

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m looking at you like a Butch Daddy looks at his baby girl,” I proposed.

“You know, I never really understood why some lesbians like calling their girlfriends ‘Daddy,’ it’s so incestuous. You can be my man, and call me ‘baby girl,’ but let’s leave “Daddy” out of it this time.”

“Okay, baby girl.” I massaged her inner thighs and asked, “What if I were a college professor and you were a young sexy schoolgirl?”

“That could be fun.” She lay back and closed her eyes. “Imagine I’m in a short pleated skirt and pigtails . . .”

I stroked the soft stubble on her vulva. “And I’m an older professor with a big belly and a mustache . . .”

“. . . And I’m sitting in the front row, intentionally not wearing panties, so I can uncross my legs and give you a flirty glimpse at my flower while you’re writing on the chalk board.”

Her soft, warm flower tempted my first two fingers to slip inside with almost no warning. “Even before I catch a glimpse of your sneaky little yoni, I can smell your pheromones filling the classroom. Like a predator smells his prey. And I know I have to have you.”

Violet wiggled her hips and giggled, “Am I your teacher’s pet?”

“It’s more than that. There is this undeniable attraction between us. It goes beyond the physical, because you’re attracted to my mind, and I’m attracted to your innocence and your free spirit. That’s why I ask you to come to my house after class.” I felt as if her pussy was putting me under a spell. “You’re so soft, so young, so irresistible.” After a series of deep rhythmic thrusts, I blurted, “I just realized something!”

Through her heavy breathing, Violet opened her eyes and asked, “What?”

“I know what Terrance must’ve felt like whenever you were babysitting.”

Violet shuddered, her eyes rolled back in her head, and I felt her pussy squeeze against my fingers. “Oh, God.”

“Is this okay?” I questioned both of us.

“Don’t stop,” she moaned.

Raven paused. “Are you sure?”

Violet closed her eyes and tilted her head back. “I trust you,” she said, “you’re a powerful healer.”

I resumed thrusting against her undulating pelvis. “I invite you back to my house after class. You didn’t wear your panties again today, and you’ve been giving me glimpses of your yoni all evening. I watch you flaunt your body around the house,” I said, surprised by my own arousal. “I can hardly wait for you to sleep so I can watch over you, looking so sweet, just lying there.” I positioned my sex hard against her thigh as I continued. “I come over to your side of the bed to tuck you in, and reach into my own pants with one hand while slipping my other hand up your cotton top to grope your perky little titties. And then I see your body undulating, and I take it as a sign that you want more.”

Violet pinched her own nipples as I stroked her more firmly.

I centered my face between Violet’s thighs and said, “Later, I see your sleeping body, and want more. So I move real slow, and quiet, so as not to wake you as I press my fat fingers inside of you.”

I slowly pressed a third finger in, filling her flower.

I found my way to her G-spot, then used my chin against her clit so I could continue speaking. “Then, I start rubbing my bulge against your thigh. I want to have sex so bad, but I don’t even know if you’re wide enough to accommodate my throbbing cock.”

“Oh yes. Yes,” she called in ecstasy, shuddering hard against my fingers. “Right there. Yes!”

Her hips bucked against my hand. She shuddered and lay still as the orgasm subsided. With a big exhale, I withdrew my fingers and cupped her vulva.

A strange calm seemed to fill the room, as Violet’s breathing slowed. After a while, I said, “That was wild.”

“Hold me,” she whispered, with outstretched arms.

“Of course.” I melted into her chest and she started to cry, little tears at first which turned into the big ugly cry. I was comforting her confused inner child. In my arms was a girl who needed to know she was still lovable. I kissed her forehead, and encouraged her to keep releasing.

“Wow,” she said, finally smiling. “I mean. Thank you.”

“What are you aware of?” I asked, gently guiding her hair behind her ear.

She sniffled, and spoke slowly. “I wasn’t Letti anymore. I was just a girl . . . and you weren’t Terrance either. We were archetypes of ourselves playing out these perverted roles. I was every girl who wants to be taken by an older man and you were every man that wrestles with their attraction to youth and innocence. I can’t believe how inappropriate it was. How did you know to say all that?”

“Intuition. It just came through.”

“Well, I’m so grateful you went with it. That may have been the most healing orgasm I’ve ever had.”