I woke up slowly the next morning, consciousness and awareness drifting up lazily.

  I was insanely comfortable right now. Nearly to the degree of being back in the tank.

  I was warm, toasty heat drifting up from the gap in the blanket near my neck.

  Long arms wrapped around my waist, a constant tactile reminder that I was in the embrace of another.

  I felt safe. Secure, cozy, relaxed.

  Happy right now.

  It felt like we hadn’t shifted much at all over the course of the night, and the sensation of Taylor’s chest pressing into my back and the bare skin of her legs on mine was filling a gap in my self in ways I didn’t know I needed up until this point.

  Looking down, I traced my fingertip along the ink on her upper arm, my touch as light as a feather, as I didn’t want to wake her and bring an end to this moment of simple bliss. Symbols I didn’t recognize the meaning of were woven together in a colorful tapestry of flowing lines and gorgeous colors. Someone had spent a very long time and a large amount of effort making this, and the skill and love showed in the work.

  Taylor shifted against me, pulling me in tighter against herself while simultaneously pressing her front against my backside. Spots that had previously been touching were shifted and exposed, the light prickle of drying sweat from the skin contact lighting up my nerves.

  I froze in the act of admiring her tattoos, my awareness shifted by a new sensation.

  Something was pressing rather firmly against my butt now, where there hadn’t been contact between us previously. Something large, hard, and warm.

  My sleepy, content brain stopped to think about that for just a moment in a slightly dazed, still a little groggy half-assed attempt to solve this mystery.

  It was pretty obvious what it could have been. I was relatively certain that Taylor wasn’t sleeping with an extendable baton in her shorts, that’d just be weird, not to mention uncomfortable.

  My chest felt a little tight, anxiety creeping up and clutching at my heart.

  Why am I feeling anxious all of a sudden? Is it because I’m scared? Is it because I’ve learned something that I maybe shouldn’t have? Is it because I’m scared that the information is going to change the nature of these bonds I’m trying to rebuild?

  Taylor sucking in a breath through her nose, which was planted in my hair on top of my head, drew me from my internalized reverie.

  “Mmm. Morning,” she said, her voice sounding as sleepy as I’d been minutes ago. She shifted against me again, then froze, much like I had. Then she slid her hips back a bit, taking the physical contact away with her.

  She swallowed. “Sorry– I wasn’t–” She drifted off, and her tone lacked that confidence that it normally carried since I’d met her. “I wasn’t trying to perv on you.”

  I was torn. Indecision. I didn’t feel like she’d been ‘perving’ on me; she’d just been asleep or slowly waking up. The contact had made me anxious all of a sudden, but now that it was gone, my heart seemed to have flipped a one-eighty and was once again craving the close and rather intimate contact between us.

  She cleared her throat. “I need to use the bathroom, excuse me.” I nodded slowly.

  “Me too, um, I’ll be right back.”

  We slipped apart and headed in different directions, her to her room’s restroom, and me to the one a handful of feet away.

  I did my business and was left thinking. I really didn’t want to think about things at the moment. I’d thought more than enough; thinking was all I did with my waking time this past month of being alive. A screaming little goblin throwing a temper tantrum in my head was stomping around, demanding more cuddling and affection.

  I washed and dried my hands, avoided my reflection in the mirror, and walked out to slip back under the still-warm covers.

  Comfortable.

  Comfortable, but not the same.

  Taylor stepped back into the doorway of the room, running her fingers through her hair and yawning. I glanced over at her, looking at her in her casual bedclothes in a way I hadn’t looked at her up until now.

  I felt so foolish with myself, a blush entering my cheeks as I took in her long, toned, and dangerously curved body. She was standing there, watching me look her over, her face half-poised in an unasked question.

  I took notice of details I hadn’t seen last night in my hysteria.

  The highly visible imprint of her nipples and barbells tenting the front of her thin tank. The way her wrinkled shirt rode up her hips, exposing a narrow strip of her tight abdomen, and clung to her abs. The prominent and totally unmistakable bulge pressing against the front of her stretchy Jersey cotton running shorts.

  How had I not noticed at all yesterday? I guess she was wearing dark color pants, and I had a lot of other things going on and in my mind.

  My eyes came back up to hers.

  There’s something just so… enticing about someone who’s that comfortable in their own skin. I wish I could be the same.

  She smiled at me warmly. “Do you want some breakfast? I make a pretty mean breakfast burrito.”

  I licked my lips, my mouth feeling dry as that anxiety and doubt still held my heart tightly in my ribs. If I didn’t force myself past this, I was going to wind up locking up again.

  “I um, would…” I cleared my throat around the tightness present. “Could we maybe cuddle some more?”

  She arced a thin, dark eyebrow at me, letting her hand slide down on the doorcase and leaning her shoulder against it. “Is that what you want?”

  I couldn’t speak. I nodded instead. The smile came back, bigger this time, and she came across the room and climbed back into bed. I stretched out on my back, and she slid up against my side, throwing an arm and a leg over me. The weight, pressure, warmth, and contact washed over me instantly. Warm tingles and gooseflesh on my skin indicated a happy lizard brain.

  “Again, sorry about earlier, I–”

  I cut her off with a glance and a slow shake of my head. “Please don’t apologize, you didn’t bother me. Physical contact is really helping me a lot right now. Centering me and helping mitigate the anxiety.”

  “Anxiety?” She asked, quietly.

  I shifted my gaze, staring up at the ceiling.

  How far do I want to take this? One part of me wants to talk about it, the other part of me is screaming that oversharing is a thing, and I’ll scare her off.

  The former must have won out, because my lips were moving and words coming out without barely a thought put into it.

  “I feel like I’m the one who should be apologizing. I didn’t know that you and Amy were together, and then um…” My cheeks lit on fire. “Then I might have heard some things last night.”

  “Ah,” she said. Her fingertip came over to brush a few stray bangs out from in front of my face. “That’s my fault,” she murmured. “We’re not used to having guests, and…” She sighed and paused for a long moment. "...some people have different ways of handling stress."

  I glanced over at her, and we made eye contact. Her expression was just a touch quizzical.

  Something must have clicked for her when she was reading my face, because she went “Oh,” seemingly at random.

  “Oh?” I repeated.

  “You think we’re like, together together, don’t you?”

  I blinked rapidly, then nodded a little. She stretched one arm over her head and propped it up with her palm, now looking down at me with a little grin on her face. “No, Morgan. We are together, but not in that way, or maybe, I should say, in a different way. We’re polyamorous. Mostly me, since she just doesn’t have much in the way of free time these days. But there is a handful of people who are on a friends-with-benefits basis with me. There are quite a few gay women in the cape scene here, not that I sleep exclusively with parahumans, or something.”

  I picked at my fingernails underneath the covers. “I’m not sure that was entirely what I was anxious about, but thank you. That does make me feel a little better.”

  A finger on my jawline gently turned my head back over toward Taylor. I made eye contact with her, staring into those multi-hued hazel eyes of hers. I was still feeling awkward as all hell, and my face was flushed.

  Holding eye contact with me, she asked me directly: “Morgan, what are we talking about here, exactly? What’s really on your mind that’s got you all wound up in a knot like this?”

  “You, I, I,” Like a levee failing all at once, words started to rush out. “I barely know you, but I feel so close to you, and you’re super hot. I’m scared of breaking things or fucking everything up, because I don’t know what I’m doing, and I can’t remember so many important things…” I trailed off to take a breath, but I already felt a little better having gotten it off my chest. She hadn’t really reacted when I was babbling, so I was taking that as a good sign, or at least, not a bad one.

  She leaned in close, our noses nearly touching. “Do you want to experiment with me and see how it makes you feel?”

  Crushing tightness in my chest flared back up once again, and I gulped.

  Then I nodded to her.

  Holding my cheek, she closed the gap between our faces, and our lips met.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Kissing her felt good.

  I think that I was needier than I had realized, because I kept being the one to try and press things a bit further, a bit faster, and she had to be the one to pull back and moderate.

  She pulled back with a smile on her lips as she stared down at me. Taylor ran her fingertip back and forth along my bony jawline as she asked me, “Can I give you a little advice?”

  “Mhm,” I agreed instantly.

  “If you take things a little bit slow, it will be a much better experience for you here and now, and you might not have as many doubts later, or feel like you rushed yourself into something, hmm?”

  I nodded quickly.

  That makes sense, I’ll try to trust in her judgement.

  “It's probably a little like you’re a virgin all over again. You have a big knot of feelings going on in here?” She tapped my breastbone, and I bobbed my head again. That caused her to smile again, and she wrapped me up in a tight hug.

  “I care about you a lot, Morgan,” she whispered to me while holding me. “I want you to enjoy yourself and make a new memory you’ll cherish. Do you trust me?”

  I gulped reflexively. It was a good question, because my logical brain was screaming at me How can I trust you, if I barely know you? But my feelings told me a different story. I did trust her implicitly.

  “I… it’s weird, but yes, I do,” I whispered back. “I’m weird,” I added.

  “It’s not weird at all, and neither are you. Part of you knows me, it’s just not all of you.” She ran her thumb over the center of my lips, and I shivered a little in her embrace.

  “You tell me if things become too much for you, okay?”

  “Okay,” I answered back. The tightness in my chest was relaxing, and my heart was racing right along. I felt like she saw me when she was staring into my eyes the way that she was. Past my strange looks, and past my doubts and insecurities.

  We resumed kissing, and this time, there was tongue involved. I liked that a whole lot. Hands began to wander, not just hers, but my own, too. I felt a knot in my belly loosen up, and it was like the temperature in the room had risen several degrees. Her palm under my shirt, planted squarely on my abdomen, was driving me wild. I was grabbing her butt and squeezing, a layer of softness over a firm core. Someone who didn’t skimp out on their physical fitness at all.

  The second time we came up for air, a plaintive whine escaped my throat, and a long strand of saliva connected our lips for what felt like an eternity as she pulled back.

  That god damn grin was back on her face. She leaned back down quickly and nipped her teeth on the tip of my nose, and I giggled. She brought her hands up to pull off her shirt, and then she helped me with mine. She had more ink on her back from the glance I was able to steal. My attention was stolen away once my shirt had come off, though.

  I was nibbling on my lower lip as I took in her breasts. They looked like pleasingly full handfuls, her nipples pierced by a pair of gently curved barbells. Taylor’s breasts jutted proudly from her chest while she was upright, each beautifully shaped, with her piercings glittering in the morning light streaming in through the huge windows.

  I couldn’t help myself, I brought my hands up and gently cupped one. “You’re so pretty, Taylor. Every new part of you I see, I keep getting reminded of it.”

  She licked her lips like a cat who’d gotten the cream as she looked down at me. “You’re not so bad yourself, you know,” her voice was lightly teasing, a mirror to what my hands were doing.

  I found a way to blush harder, somehow. “Stop, you’ll ruin the mood for me saying that.”

  Her eyes gleamed mischievously, and she leaned forward, bringing her hands to either side of my head on the bed. My hands squished into her softness as the gap between us closed. My thumbs found the firm tips on her chest and teased at each.

  “I’ll just have to show you instead of saying it, then,” she purred, then let out a soft moan at my touch. “Careful, you’re liable to get me really worked up doing that.”

  It was my turn to grin, and I dropped my gaze back to her chest. In the light, I could see that she had silvery stretch mark scars on the upper slope of each breast. I ran the tips of my fingernails over them, feeling the faint bumps and ridges.

  Even her scars were attractive. They certainly weren’t the only scars on her body, either. She had those in spades, some old, some fresher. My hands left her chest and lightly grazed a few.

  But wait, she’s got Amy. Then why…

  “Why um…” I started to say, and she chuckled.

  “Why keep the scars?” She finished my question for me.

  I nodded.

  “Amy can remove them when she treats me, but I like them. They’re reminders of battles, of enemies, even of friends. No different than my tattoos.”

  “I’m kind of glad you didn’t get rid of them. It’s, I don’t know, a very you look? But what about the ah…”

  Her grin turned downright wolfish in nature. “The stretch marks? You can just say it, you’re not going to offend me.”

  “I didn’t want to do that, no, but they’re very pretty too, in their own way.”

  “Starting puberty at sixteen was agony. But I think I turned out pretty good, if I don’t say so myself. I wouldn’t get rid of them for anything. Are you kidding me? I’m like, wicked prideful about these!” She cupped her chest and gave it a squeeze with a laugh. It was infectious, a smile cracking my lips below her.

  “I admit, I’m jealous.” She silenced me with a finger on my lips.

  “No going there. We’re enjoying ourselves, aren’t we?”

  I nodded up at her.

  “Good,” she continued. “We’ve crossed two bases, do you want to keep going?”

  I flushed, likely some shade of beet red. “Is it bad to say that I’m extremely horny right now?”

  She snickered at me. “If not now, then when? But yeah, communication is really good if you want good sex. I don’t want to brag, but I think I’m pretty good. I get a lot of rave reviews.”

  I groaned, and she teased my chest with my fingertips, which got another groan out of me of an entirely different sort.

  “Point is, I have quite a lot of experience ever since I had my own sexual awakening, and I’m happy to share. You tell me whatever you’re feeling, whenever you’re feeling it. I promise I won’t judge you. If it’s good, great! If it’s not working, say something,” she urged me.

  I smiled and nodded.

  She shifted off me and slid over to the side of the bed. “If we’re going further, I need to get a few things, okay? I’ll be right back.”

  “Mhm,” I agreed with her while shamelessly oggling the way her stretchy shorts clung to her butt like a second skin. She gave a saucy swing of her hips on the way out, casting a glance back as she rounded the corner with a knowing smirk on her lips.

  She returned a moment later, and I was captivated by the bounce and sway of her chest nearly to the degree that I didn’t notice what she was carrying back with her: condoms and lube.

  “Oh, um.” I cleared my throat. “You ah… don’t have to use those, if you don’t want to. I’m not in any danger of becoming pregnant, Tessa said that might be a thing if I get my body weight up, but right now, yeah.”

  Taylor didn’t seem to mind one bit. “Thank you for sharing, that’s good to know, but there are a lot of reasons to have some condoms beyond just trying to avoid pregnancy.” She waggled her bottle of lube. “And there is not enough lube in the world, trust me, this stuff is the secret key to having a great time, no matter what sorts of stuff you’re getting up to!”

  Her warm, teasing tone helped relax me a little from where I’d started worrying once again.

  “Now, would you like me to get fully naked?”

  I bit my lower lip. Rather than keep my thoughts to myself, I figured I’d take Taylor’s advice and speak my mind. “I’m a little anxious, but yes, I think I’d like that a lot. I’ve never um…” I tried to think about how I wanted to put this. It wasn’t like transpeople were an unknown to me; I just didn’t recall knowing any. “I’ve always been attracted to girls, so I’m a little worried, I guess, because–”

  Taylor held up one index finger. Her smile hadn’t left her face; that was relieving.

  “Morgan, look at me. Am I hot to you?”

  “Yes, extremely hot!” I blurted out.

  “Okay, this is the world’s easiest thing to figure out, watch.” She set her stuff on the side of the bed, hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts, and promptly pulled them down to her lower thighs and let them drop to the floor.

  “Now look at me. Am I still hot to you?”

  I did. My eyes lingered on her crotch. I didn’t really have to think about it all that much; she was right about that part. She was still insanely attractive to me; nothing had really changed. I bit my lower lip, and my eyes became watery.

  “I’m sorry, I…” She didn’t interrupt me, just standing there, one hand on her hip, and letting me get my thoughts out. “I don’t know why I was making such a big deal out of it in my head. I feel bad for it.”

  “Shh, none of that. No judgment here, Morgan. I also think you’re very hot! And I would love to have sex with you, if that’s what you’d like, too.”

  I coughed out a laugh and nodded. She climbed into bed and pulled the covers back over us while I wiped at my eyes.

  Stupid feelings and getting in my own head, trying to mess everything up.

  “Oh, um. I guess I’m overdressed now,” I laughed again, worming around to pull off my own bottoms. I was briefly embarrassed by the fact that they were quite damp, but I thought back to what she’d said.

  If not now, then when?

  “God, our culture is really stupid about all of this, isn’t it?” I asked the room.

  “It really is, yes,” she said vehemently. “I’m an adult. You’re an adult. Neither one of us is messed up, and both of us want to do it. So why should anyone, or anything else, matter?”

  We resumed making out, things becoming more adventurous as our hands wandered downwards. She led things and lightly teased me with reminders when I started getting a little antsy or in my head. I felt a little bad that I wasn’t overly groomed downstairs or anything, but the fact of the matter was that my body hair was virtually non-existent overall, and where there was any, it was very fine and wispy. I’d taken to just trimming a bit with a pair of beauty scissors under my arms and between my legs because there wasn’t much else to do, and because I felt weird grooming that stuff while I was under around-the-clock monitoring in the clinic slash laboratory.

  Taylor didn’t seem to mind one bit, either way. Her fingers between my legs drove me wild and worked me up to the point that I was actually whining. Taylor guided my hand and talked me through things as we went along. She’d been soft when she’d left and come back, but that was quite rapidly changing when lubricant and my hands got involved.

  “Is this… the right way?” I paused to ask.

  She chuckled as I looked down between us, where the two of us were lying on our sides, facing one another. My hand was sticky and slick with lubricant, and I’d been lightly touching her. It was a little weird, but also sort of captivating for me, because her sex seemed to move of its own accord.

  “Yes, that feels very nice. I’ll be very straight with you, having gone back and forth, I can tell you in complete confidence that dicks are dead-easy to please and to have your partner feeling great. Lots of lube, no teeth or nails, and the end is more sensitive than the rest, and you’re ninety percent of the way there to blowing someone’s mind.”

  I paused for a moment to look her in the face. “Wait, um, what? How–”

  Taylor rolled her eyes and groaned out loud. “Sorry, I keep forgetting that you don’t know because these are conversations I’ve had with all my friends at one point or another. I wasn’t born this way. Amy and I experimented around quite a bit, even before her company was doing similar things, and I figured out that this is what I prefer.”

  “...Oh. So like, you’ve got to experience it both ways, and like, wow, so…” My horny, hormone-addled brain was just starting to wrap around the concept of what Amy, and probably other biokinetics and biotinkers could do, outside of the public light.

  “Yup! I’m very fortunate, in more ways than one,” she snickered.

  “I feel really dumb asking this, but…” I trailed off.

  “No, please, go on,” she urged me.

  “Maybe I’m dumb, and my memory of things like school is very hit-or-miss, but isn’t, I mean, aren’t you ah…”

  “...Gifted?” She offered.

  I nodded dumbly, cheeks fully ablaze. She just grinned at me.

  “Yes, most people aren’t quite like this. You can thank my extremely horny partner, who has certain preferences.”

  I coughed, just a little. “Oh, um. Wow, okay.”

  She silenced me with a very intense kiss, and it successfully stilled the roiling thoughts and emotions in my head that had been threatening to send me down some highly distractible rabbit hole. My hands resumed their motion, and she blossomed under my touch.

  By the time we broke and came up for air, which felt like several minutes of vigorously making out and mutually masturbating later.

  Holding my gaze, she brought her fingers up to her lips and slipped them between her full lips, sucking them wetly and loudly clean. I felt like a deer in the headlights at the sight, because while I felt self-conscious for a moment, the visible enjoyment of the act had me absolutely humming just under the surface of my skin.

  She came forward for a kiss after dragging her fingers out of her mouth with a loud slurp. I just trembled in place, but my hand was rotating away in little twisting circles beneath the covers, something that she seemed to love. Our lips met, and I could taste myself on her lips and tongue.

  I couldn’t help myself; a throaty moan escaped me.

  She pulled away, a trailing string of spit drooping, then snapping between us. Eyes glittering in the sunlight, she whispered to me: “I’d say you’re fairly ready at this point. Would you like to take the final step?”

  I nodded quickly, my own eyes probably pleading with the heady mix of pleasure and arousal that she’d whipped me into through foreplay alone.

  “Roll over for me, as much as I’d love to do this face-to-face, I think it’ll be easier and more enjoyable for you if we start with something else.”

  I swallowed and did as she asked. Presenting myself as the little spoon to her gifted spoon. She adjusted the pillows for both of us, then slid up behind me. My heart was pounding in my chest as she lifted my thigh and positioned herself between my thighs. She gently let my thigh back down, and I felt her heat throbbing between my legs.

  The sensation was driving me wild. I wanted to feel her inside, but I also felt some trepidation. Was I going to be enough? What if she didn’t fit, or it wasn’t good for her?

  She wrapped her arms around me once again and pulled me in tight, a repeat of our position from first thing this morning, but now entirely skin-on-skin, and no small part aromatic in the small space we shared.

  “You’re safe. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. What I really need you to try and do is to take deep breaths, try to calm your nerves as much as possible, and relax, okay? I’m going to go very slow, just like we have been, and you say if anything is bothering you.”

  “Okay. I trust you,” I whispered back.

  She kissed the nape of my neck and shifted around some. Her hand trailed down between my legs, teasing my belly as she went, which caused me to twitch and squirm a little under her touch. Teasing, not ticklish. She engaged her fingernails–lightly–on my inner thighs, which pulled a moan from my lips. I had no control over it; she was bowing me like a veteran fiddler right now, and I sang to her tune.

  When I’d acclimated some, I felt her pull back a bit more, rotating her hips, and then–she was pressed directly up against me. A long, slow lick from the backside of my collarbone area, up the side of my neck, and to my hairline behind my ear, accompanied a slow, gentle, but firm pressure at my entrance. My hand clutched at hers.

  “Just breathe. Relax. I’ve got you, Morgan,” her voice washed over my earlobe.

  The pressure mounted, and I felt a stretching sensation. It was intense. Not bad, but intense. A little bit at a time, she pressed onward, pausing and waiting for me when I squeezed her hand, and giving me light, teasing nibbles on my ear.

  I thought I was going to break, but I didn’t. I thought I was going to die, but I didn’t. There was a brief moment of pain when I lost my virginity, but the sting went away quickly, leaving only warmth and fullness in its wake. Before I knew it, I was pressing myself back against her, very much enjoying the sensation as she lit up nerves and touched places that were making bubbles fizz and pop in my brain.

  True to her word, we went slow, and we never really picked up the pace to what I’d seen in places online.

  We didn’t need to; she didn’t need to. Having sex with her was an entire experience all to itself, and before I even realized where I was in the swing of things, or what was going on, I felt myself building up, layer upon layer.

  “Taylor, I’m…” I panted as she pulled back and pressed back into me with a slow, firm thrust.

  “I know,” her voice was hot on my ear, breathy and confident. “Come for me, Morgan.”

  That did it. I don’t know what it was about it, but I felt so hot and so secure in her arms, like she was anchoring me in place where I felt like I was about to blow away.

  I rode out my orgasm, doing what felt natural. Holding my breath around muscle spasms, then explosively exhaling and sucking in another lungful to ride out the next wave. Feeling my legs trembling, then twitching and shaking. Babbling her name between expletives and breathless whines.

  Throughout all of it, she just… kept going. She might have picked up her pace a little bit, but the sensations that had driven me over the edge continued, just as raw and electric as they had been before I started climaxing. Taylor’s breathing in my ear and letting out little growls was driving me absolutely wild, and I could feel another, bigger wave swelling up behind the first, which I was still riding.

  I was going to fucking drown in my own pleasure. My brain was short-circuiting, neurons firing at random, my fingertips tingling, my eyelids fluttering.

  The second one hit me, far harder than the first, and it left me a complete and utter wreck. I was mostly limp in its wake, twitching and trembling as I struggled to stay afloat. I felt warm, too warm, and held securely. Taylor was nuzzling and teasing at my earlobe with her lips. At some point during that, I realized that I was flexing my legs, and my toes were splayed out like I was a cat being dangled midair.

  At last, it was over, and I was like a sack of potatoes in Taylor’s arms, boneless and noodly. It felt like she’d fucked the life straight out of me. I was just lying there on my side, arms splayed out, rapidly panting, covered in sweat. She was doing far better than I was, from what I could tell. I was so warm, hot, really. Tingly. A little sore in a few places.

  I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

  “How do you feel?” Taylor whispered to me.

  “Nap,” was all I managed to get out.

  “A nap does sound nice, doesn’t it?”

  I moved my head the barest fraction of an inch up and down.

  “Sounds like you should close your eyes and enjoy a little nap, then.” Her voice was warm and resonant, itself sending pleased little tingles up and down my spine.

  I went through the monumental effort of taking Taylor’s arms and repositioning them tightly around my chest, and then I covered them with my own. Her breath tickled my scalp, and before I knew it, I was drifting off, barely aware of the smile on my lips.