Her body lay there, spread-eagled in front of me. I sat close by. Restless. Excited. Uneasy. Desperate, almost. My hand rested upon her knee, offering gentle, reassuring touches as she wavered between tension and relief. The rod nestled tightly in her folds, between her thighs, contrastingly stiff and unyielding to the rest of her as her breaths made her body oscillate like gentle ocean waves.
She got comfortable after a few prolonged minutes of quiet struggle, and as the tension in her body waned, so did mine. I'd spent that time accumulating the impetus I needed to muster the courage and force the question out of my system. My heartbeat was louder than her, but I understood her regardless. My legs quivered their way upright, lifting me off from the foot of the couch. I shed my clothes urgently, and found a comfortable spot to kneel down beside her.
My hands wandered tentatively. Her voice reacted to my touch like static built up between our bodies while I watched her dilating so impatiently. From one moment to the next, feeling my way further down her breasts and belly, I soon found my digits nestled against her mons and gently massaging onto her clitoris. She let out the softest little moan, and I felt compelled to kiss her.
She turned to face me and our breath mingled as we held ourselves so close to one another.
I kissed her again, then once more. She gasped, and my fingers listened.
A tender moment between lovers just found, which I later felt compelled to commit to canvas because of how significant it was to the two of us.
We've been through a lot since then, and I wasn't sure I'd ever get to share this with you all in light of that. But today, Garnet asked me to upload it to commemorate one year since she'd gotten Gender Affirming Surgery done, and I couldn't be happier to oblige.
I love you, Garnet.