Encrypted-5

Chapter 5

I am so not used to this. Me, strange, never fitting in, not even in my own skin or even my own life here in the parking lot leaning into the embrace of Brandy in the early morning sunshine kissing with her and pressing into her breasts while her hands are circled around me caressing my back, fingering playfully with my bra strap making me hyper-aware of wearing it and how it feels and holds me in giving me this sense of rightness and security.

I love this and my emotions are in this swell like wave cresting to just feeling normal, like I’m a real human being instead of a Natural Born Alien. You know feeling almost knowing that you don’t really belong here but some how you’ve got a birth certificate.

I’ve never been able to really connect to people or myself but now, as her painted nails slide down my skirt and cup my bum and make me lean into her more and I lift a leg unconsciously to the point where my pump ends up dangling off my toes and just to make things perfect is the taste of hazelnut coffee on her and the hints of her perfume and the feeling of her lipstick on mine.

We both end up ruining the effect by yawning. Another few kisses and we get back into the car. I’m not as nervous riding as before, I’m not sure if it’s an increase in me getting used to “Pretty” or being tired and unused to being up this late. I have done late hours getting carried away with the things in the lab before.

I’m moving my hands, waving my fingers in time with the music and for me that’s a good thing, a relaxed thing. I’m even looking around more as we drive. I’m usually in the lab by now.

I’m even smiling and it doesn’t feel like it’s forced, or unnatural for me to do that.

We pull into her/our little house and we unpack the groceries. I’m very glad that they now use cloth bags. But some things I have to let her handle. Meat, meat’s wrapped in cellophane most now days. I hate even looking at it in that slimy shiny packaging. Bread we bought from the bakery section and we got the loaves they sell in the paper bags. Our vegetables and fruit are unbagged because they have those tear away plastic bags that I can’t stand touching. We did by things that she liked as well as my tastes. There’s a lot of things I have never tried before and I’m a little scared at the prospect of some of them just by the look of them.

Fish, I’m not sure I can eat fish. I’m from the prairies; I was never raised on fish except for canned tuna.

Actually with my mom gone most of my meals were canned or boxed or frozen. Even home in my apartment I rarely ate things that weren’t like that either. I never ate much of other things unless it was raw vegetables. I like crunch, baby carrots, celery, whole green beans. Never broccoli or cauliflower, I can’t eat those they’re pebbly, too bumpy like eating a toad from the plant kingdom. I like most leafy greens but I cannot eat tomatoes because they are slimy, they are round red okra to me.

Fruit is bad too. I can eat most apples except for the apple pear. I can taste sulfur in grapes, pears are too mealy and I can’t eat peaches or kiwi, fur should never be on your food, kiwis are fuzzy, if I wanted to eat a tribble then I’d go tribble hunting.

My strange ways surface when I help put things away. There were about seven jars in her refrigerator with either three pickles in there preserved in all that liquid like lonely aging experiments from a biology lab or there is just this skim of mayonnaise in there or whatever it says it’s supposed to be. I start to take them out and remove the contents and wash the jars and bottles. Brandy is looking at me as I do that.

“Maddie love why are you doing that?”

“My survival.”

“Huh?”

“These jars of pickles and things how old are they?”

“I’m not sure, why?”

“Why?...” I don’t understand how she doesn’t understand. “Brandy, the pickles aren’t safe, brining things doesn’t stop them completely from organic decay…”

“Oh, I just never bothered to chuck them. It’s not like this place is dirty or something.”

“No but this is where food is kept, non-hermetically sealed food.”

“Well I’m okay.”

“So far but this…please, I can’t, I can’t do this with these things here. The mayo’s are contaminated every time you open them and stir around in them and cross contaminate them with things from other things…” I can’t help but shudder and she laughs and comes over and kisses my cheek.

“Here let me help.” She croons as her arms slide around mine, hands with mine washing out the jars and holding me but leaning so tight as I can feel her breasts so nicely on my back.

And it’s just that, washing them clean so close that it’s nearly dancing and we share a few more and seemingly more powerful kisses.

Can kisses gain power? Can you get more and more kissed until they build into your system like mercury or lead…or love radiation? Is that what radiant love should be?

It might be a hallucination or just me but I can see this equation scribble in the air like a grease pen on glass of math trying to work out stuff like Hugs-R-Squared, E-equals-mass-squared-love and they’re there just for a second and making me smile before fading into my imagination.

“What are you thinking about that’s making you smile like that?”

“Math.” I kiss her and start rinsing and cleaning out the sink. She kisses me again.

“C’mon Maddie, I’m tired and you’ve been up all night too. Let’s get cleaned up and go to bed.” She yawns again which sets me off too.

We get everything put away and then go to the bathroom where Brandy starts to show me how to de-make up and use the cold cream and we take a shower together washing each other. It’s very erotic and yet more than that. There’s this slow personal component to this that feels so good, so soothing I’m nearly purring. It’s just being touched that’s doing this for me.

When I talked about being A Natural Born Alien there’s a lot of truth to that. When you’re different like me and not even being transgendered but just different. If you’re like me. When you can’t fit in or never could; you lose social interaction, and you have such a huge hole in you that’s from not having any personal interaction.

It’s a lonely hell not being able to just “Be” like everyone enough to fit in.

It’s a lonely hell seeing others so easily being with other people and knowing that won’t be you because you just don’t have the “Whatever” that everyone else has.

It’s a lonely hell when almost all you’ve every known is not having a personal relationship with anybody.

We all want those things. We all want to fit in, to not stick out like some oddball if you’re lucky and treated like a freak if you’re not.

We might be different than everyone else but we’re not that different. We all want/need love, to be touched and to be held and to have somebody love us just because they love us…quirks and foibles and strange little OCD things and all.

I can’t help but wonder if Brandy has any idea of just how much it means to have someone just be that “Good” with me just being me enough to just wash my back like it’s no big deal. It’s a huge deal to me. I turn around and I kiss her, I try to make it long and slow and good. I mean I’m trying to make it like one of those special kisses. It’s a skill I’m unsure of and have to break it down into parts. I know that sounds unromantic and odd but I’m trying very hard to make it a good romantic kiss so that must count for something right?

I start by leaning in and just touching my lips to hers and run mine over them back and forth to stimulate by friction. Slowly with care because a good kiss is a slow kiss right?

Then I lean into her and tilt my head a little to avoid bumping into her nose but lining up the bow middle of my lips with hers and make contact. Just enough pressure to make this little plumping of the flesh of each of our lips, half purse, then unpurse, purse and unpurse then she purses and I open my lips and pull/suck? It’s sort of like that? It’s sort of like the softest bite you could give but just with your lips and it makes your/my lips drag over hers in a top to bottom way.

Brandy makes this purring like “Mmmmm…” sound and she drapes her arms over my shoulders and presses her breast into my chest her nipples soapy and slippery making me feel these more than male awake feelings from them because of what I did before. She does the same sort of motions and much better nuances of technique back to me and I really should study the way that she’s doing all of these things to me, with me but my brain does something wonderful.

It sort of just turns off.

All those ideas and all that organized randomness that’s usually ever-present in my head just stops. If you’re like me you know what I’m talking about, that whole thing of your brain not ever shutting off and you are sure if you weren’t so odd you’d be crazy. But it is being crazy really, no matter the fact they call it a disorder or a condition.

It goes away and there is just this feeling of being kissed and touched and cared about blending with the physical feeling that I’m so starved for that it is an experience that just…I feel like I did earlier this morning but more so.

We get out of bed and dry each other off and return to kissing whenever we can and head to bed where I actually take the lead. I turn on some music this song from her playlist labeled lovers starts playing. “Who makes you feel?” by the singer Dido and it is very personal and erotic as I kiss her then apply my kissing routine to her breasts as I heft them gently in my hands and slowly caress them taking my time and sitting her on the edge of her bed and enjoy the sounds she makes, the breathy sounds, the whine of it being so good…her saying my name with that sound in her voice we all get when emotion tightens our vocal chords up. I’ve never been sexually forward with her that much but I want to please her…it’s really important to me to show her that I love her even if I am not good with those expressions. It’s why I sink to my knees and kiss her navel…

I know the drawer where she has some of her stockings. I get up and place my finger on her lips then go to it and get a pair of these white lacey thigh high ones that have the elastic at the tops to hold them in place. I kiss her again on the lips and her fingers slide over my skin and play with my nipples making me have good shivers. I sink to my knees again and like I’m reminded by the mental refresh button in my brain I re-stimulate her breasts with more kisses and touches but this time I use the stimulating feel of the fabric of the stockings on her breasts as well as everything else. I get stimulated by the sounds she makes again…very by the inhaled whispery gasp from her of “Ohfuckmaddie…” as the fabric very gently runs over the skin of her breasts, her areolas, and nipples.

I go lower and kiss her navel again, lower and kiss taste the pubic mound just above her Penny…yes she calls her penis, her Penny. I smile as she says that actually getting the transgendered play on words with that. She is aroused and I stroke “Penny” a few times but take her leg first her right and kiss her toes, her ankle both on top of it and on the side of it and then very slowly slide the stocking onto her leg. I run my lips along the skin of it before I slide and caress the stocking into place. I repeat the process with her left leg after just a short break of sitting up on my knees to kiss her again and stroking “Penny” I am so hoping that this is something good, that I’m doing this right. I think I am by the sounds she makes.

Once I have the stockings on both of her legs I kiss her more on the lips but running my hands over both her legs to stimulate her and I break the kiss. I look her in the eyes and try to be serious and loving at the same time. I tell her as I’m making that eye contact. My voice is soft and whispery because I’m shy and I’m scared and hoping I say this right. My fingers are counting on her thighs.

“Brandy, I love you. I love you and more I am in love with you and I want you to know that. I might not say it enough or say it right some times but it’s true. I love you and I…I…I am so thankful for you and the love and acceptance you give me.”

Instead of waiting for her to respond or to kiss me I sink down lower than before and I kiss “Penny.” I kiss “Penny” and take her deeper into my mouth and start to apply as much technique like from kissing and from anything else I can think of as my hands run over her legs and the stockings over and over looking so arousing with the white filmy gauzy material and lace against her coffee skin. When Brandy’s fingers slip into my hair and hold/cradle my head as I’m giving her oral it takes it to someplace better for me and this becomes not soothing but empowering.

Serendipitously the song “Better than Chocolate.” Starts to play during this. Once Brandy reaches orgasm I make my way up her body and we kiss sharing her flavor and I slip into bed with her and she returns the favor and more until we’re spent and tired and the digital clock on the nightstand says seven minutes past noon. I fall asleep in her arms, and held by one leg covered by blankets and satisfied more that ever in my life.

Brandy kisses my hair and sleepily and softy says to me and the top of my head.

“Maddie, you are the most beautiful, amazing and caring soul I’ve ever known. Nobody has ever loved me like you do. I thought that nobody ever would. No beautiful, I’m the one who should be thanking you.”
I mumble back to her as I’m drifting off. “We have to be careful or we’ll fall into a loop of thank you’s.”

***

Five hours, five hours that I slept and just slept. No overclocking the computer that’s in my head. I think I might have even dreamt. I sort of remember images of the club and of the lovemaking that we had just done.

Its suppertime and I can feel Brandy in the bed with me, warming the bed and my life even. My world is a new thing of feminine smells and textures and feelings that actually make my life feel like it was new, better. I debate getting up but there’s no real reason for me to. I look at the clock and smile and lazily roll over and wrap an arm around Brandy and smile as I snuggle away into sleep again.

***
I dream this time of lines of light, blue white like electricity running through the world. I’m outside and I’m walking through the streets of Toronto and everything is so slow, moving vehicles are stand-still blurs and people are just there like statues, birds are frozen in the air as are insects and other things. There’s no wind here, there’s no sound here other than my own footfalls.

I walk through places I’ve been and a few I’ve never been to before. I see the time on the clocks here and there. 6:45 PM and after walking around a few hours or more…6:47 PM?

I go to one of the lines drawn to it, fascinated by it and stare into it seeing nothing but a flow of blue/white energy and it is filled with zeros and ones, it’s an incalculable stream of them. I hate to use that word but I am not capable of it therefore…

I stick my hand in it unsure and tentative and I feel so much…too much…I feel power, energy, information all too much for me…I feel the bandwidth of the planet!?

The energy overwhelms me and I can’t hold it, I can’t contain it and then there’s this wave of something so intense that it rips at me I get sucked into it like what undertow must feel like and I’m carried away with the currents getting knocked around and going through buildings and going blind from the brightness most of the time…

~I don’t want this!, I don’t want to be here!, I want to go home!~

~I want to go home!~

I screamed it I think? And then I surged into the outer side of the stream of light and data and zipped around the city on this super speed energy ride relaying from line to line to line until I hit one that goes right through Brandy’s house and I get spat out into the/our bed and into me!!???

***
I scream, and I sit up and shoot out of bed and flail through the nothingness like Willey Coyote my arms not able to keep me aloft and tangled in the sheets I crash face first into the floor beside the bed.

Ow…

Ow…Ow…Ow…

Brandy comes into the bedroom to stare and look at me. She’s in a Metallica T-shirt and panties and the stocking with a spatula in her hand. “Maddie, holy crap hun are you okay?”

“I…”

“I fell out of bed?”

I look around and I am very confused.