More Soup than Sex and I'll bet the bread is half baked!

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad.
part 103.

It was a saturday night and I was with my own Prince Charming, okay he discovered that Cinderella used to be Buttons in a previous life, but the slipper fitted and now before he turned back into a frog, he wanted.... .I didn't actually care what he wanted, I was well into a good cry because he'd pushed another of my buttons, no not the pantomime character, one of my emotional buttons.

I am useless at taking compliments, I'd rather not have them, they embarrass me. I've never had them in the past, so I don't need them now. When I got my degree my parents told me they expected nothing less than 100% effort from me and they got what they expected. So when someone said I was beautiful, I could ignore that too. When they kept saying it and questioned my acceptance of it, they had pushed through my barriers and I didn't know how to cope with it. So when in doubt: cry. If in big doubt: cry buckets. I was doing just this!

Then Prince Charming, offers me a day out expenses paid with Princess Charming to buy a ball gown to meet the king and queen, I found it even harder to cope. My insides were all mushy and they felt harder than my brain which had turned to liquid and was seeping out of my eyes.

How do people cope with compliments? I didn't know, so I did what I know how to do, feel sad. That gives me the excuse to cry a lot, a skill I am improving through practice. If this is self indulgence, then that is sinful too, so I have every reason to be sad, I am truly wicked and my parent's god seems intent on pissing all over me for being so.

I felt a warm hand pull me backwards on the bed as it wrapped around my waist, and I found myself spooned into Simon's body again. I could feel his warmth and I shivered a little.

"It's okay, everything is okay my baby. You are safe and sound with me, nothing can hurt you when I am here, so just relax and calm down and enjoy us just snuggling up together. I hope you are enjoying it as much as I am," his hand moved to gently stroke my breast and I felt my nipple grow and harden, a fact which could hardly have passed him by. He proved it, when a few moments later he stroked the other one.

I had stopped crying, listening to his sweet talk and enjoying his fingers stroking my boobs. I gently held his hand against my breast, indicating that it was okay to touch them, and he kissed the top of my head, then my neck. I wiped my eyes on the bedclothes. A little later he asked me roll over onto my back and he kissed me.

If CPR was like this, I'd fake a heart attack at least three times a day. He was so loving and gentle, carefully kissing me and chewing my lips. I put my arms around his neck and pulled him closer and kissed him back. I felt so horny, so sexed up that I'd have done almost anything for him to screw me there and then. I did contemplate alternatives to the approved orifice, but they didn't seem appropriate. I wanted to be seen as a woman not an effeminate gay man, because I was a woman in all but one vital area and that would be fixed one day.

"I love you my own 'ugly duckling'," he said and kissed me again.

"I love you too," I said and tears formed again.

"What's wrong now?" he asked masking his irritation almost entirely.

"I'm so happy, I can't believe it."

"You're so happy, you're crying?" he said smiling in the way men do when women say something that makes perfect sense to a female psyche, but not to a male one. "Okay," he said not meaning that at all, "I'm glad that you're happy." I'm sure he was thinking, I just hope I never see you in a blissful state, it could shrink the carpets.

He kissed me again and I smiled at him. I wiped my eyes and pushed him down on the bed and lying across his chest, I snuggled down and listened to his heart beat. I was so comfortable I dozed a little, waking when he coughed.

"You'll have to move over some lover," he said, "my arm's gone to sleep," I sat up and sleepily smiled at him as he shook his arm and clapped his arm to get rid of the pins and needles.

"Want me to kiss it better?" I asked coyly.

"If you want," he replied holding his hand out to me.

I sat alongside him facing him bringing my legs around behind me. I took his hand and kissed the palm. "Is that better?" I asked.

"A bit," he said smiling.

I kissed it again, "How is that?"

"Yeah, a little bit better," he was nearly chuckling because I started licking his palm, "that tickles," he said before he began to laugh.

"This little piggy went to market," I kissed his finger, then sucked on it. He laughed some more. "This little piggy stayed at home," I was about to kiss his second finger when he cupped my jaw with his hand and pulled me up to his face and kissed me deeply, drinking my love and imbuing me with his own.

Eventually, we stopped sucking each other's faces off and settled down to cuddle and sleep. Again I slept like a log, safe in the certainty that I was loved. It was like having all my birthdays and Christmasses together. If I dreamt, I don't remember any of it, only this feeling of being loved, which I prayed would never end.

It was wonderful waking to feel his sleepy body beside me, I turned over and lay there just drinking him with my eyes, watching him sleep in the pale light of an October morning. I recalled the day before and what had happened then, things were so different now. I still didn't know if any of this would last, it seemed too good to be true and I thought that Simon would drop me like a hot coal when he found a real female to replace me.

I barely managed to shut the sluice gates in time, but somehow I did and avoided crying for a change. I probably didn't deserve to be happy anyway, so I had to try and get as much of it as I could while it lasted.

I lay on my side, my head resting on my hand, my elbow stuck on my pillow, simply watching his hairy chest rise and fall with each breath. I tried to will my love into his body with each inspiration he made and absorb his love from each exhalation. It stopped me thinking negative thoughts for a short time and I didn't want to get out of bed in case it woke him. He looked so peaceful and beautiful. I desperately wanted to kiss him, but dared not.

My arm was becoming numb from lying in one position when he opened his eyes, focused on me and smiled. "Hi," was all he needed to say before I practically devoured him with a kiss. It was a good way to start a sunday morning.

He eventually pushed me off and hopped into the bathroom, with me sniggering knowing he would have some difficulty in peeing for a few moments. I slipped out of bed and went to start the breakfast.

The rest of the morning seemed to fly by as Simon reminded me of my promise to my dad to make him soup and bread. It took the rest of the morning although we also had some for our lunch.

"What soup is this?" asked Simon, eating half the loaf.

"Vegetable, why?"

"It never tastes this good in restaurants."

"I don't know why, it isn't that special."

"I don't know how you can turn a pile of boring garden waste into such a tasty meal, and this bread, is to die for."

"It will be if you eat any more of it, the rest is for my dad."

"Oh," he blushed, "yeah, nearly forgot. Will you make me soup when you marry me?"

"Simon, it is very unlikely that you will marry me, especially when your father finds out about my past. Remember April Ashley and all the fuss that caused.

I wasn't actually born when that happened, but because she married a minor aristo, the full weight of the establishment descended upon her and the laws tightened up against transsexuals, only being revised in their favour in about 2005. I'd read about the case years ago and also read her biography, which was astonishing to me. It seemed she had lived about ten lifetimes and screwed half the leading movie stars of the day. She was a model and very beautiful, compared to her I was rather plain looking, or so I thought anyway.

While I washed up, Simon fiddled on my computer. "What was that woman's name?"

"What woman?" I called back from the kitchen.

"The one you were on about, April someone."

"April Ashley, why?"

"Just wondered, that's all." He did a trawl through various newspaper archives and read up about her story. When I came back with the soup and bread to take to the hospital, he showed me what he'd found.

"Now she was really beautiful," I said blushing.

"The makeup is a bit overdone,"

"It was the nineteen sixties, Si. They wore it like that then."

"She's not as pretty as you."

"I think she's more so, except she had a deep voice."

"How do you know?"

" I saw her on telly once, my dad was very critical of her and her ilk."

"Looks like he got paid back in spades then, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, looks like." I agreed and sat on his lap.

"Serves him right, the old bigot."

"Well, I have to go and see the old bigot now, are you coming or staying or what?"

He glanced at his watch, "How long are you going to be?"

"Why what did you have in mind?"

"I need to head back by early evening, would be nice to go for a walk or something if we have time. How about I run you to the hospital and pick you up an hour or so later?"

"Yeah, okay. I'll explain to Daddy that I have to see you off and I'm sure he'll understand. He was always hot on courtesy to guests."

"If he thinks I'm staying with you, won't he blow another fuse?"

"If he does he does, I'm not ashamed of it."

"Okay, let's go for it then." With that I picked up the food and my bag, grabbed a jacket from behind the front door and followed my lord and master out to his car.