Silencing My Doubt

"SHUT UP!"'

I cry it out, I scream it out loud. I shout it out into the void because the voice and the mocking laughter had gotten so loud I couldn't ignore it any longer and then...

Silence.

Just the pounding of my heart and the heat in my veins and the pulsing need in my belly but silence all the same. Merciful silence.

For maybe the first time in my whole damn life.

In the mirror a palpable relaxation came over her, a small smile that was truly sublime. The flush and blush of her pleasurable need was still there, but it had turned somehow and become something a little different and god I knew what it was.

A victory. Not meaningless but meaningful because it was the very first time she'd ever had it and the first time I had as well. Long fought and hard won and somehow, impossibly, finally here.

For years I'd been struggling with this, with the lingering remnants of that shame and pressure. Growing up under the auspices of a man with a certain thought towards what I should be, with plans for me that were formulated before I was born and based entirely around the fact that I had his blood in my veins and a cock between my legs.

The man I turned out to be was a disappointment to me, but to my father he was an immesurable failure. A failing not just on my part but on his.

Emily didn't have that particular flavor of history but she had her own troubles with both of our parents. Just because she didn't have a cock and wasn't a boy, that didn't mean that there weren't expectations for her.

And with the fact that she was the one and only child of them perhaps it was even worse for her. Caught between the expectations of a mother so keen to have a daughter but so determined not to have her become a lost and wanton woman and the continual disappointment of a father who wished she'd been born a boy. She was stuck, pressed into being something that she didn't want to be but without any real idea of what it was that she wanted except for out.

And silence too.

The quiet of victory when she made the voices that she heard, just as I did, fall still and mute.

This was a victory for me, but one for her as well. The calm happiness on her face might have been from my own emotions but god I could see and feel her own relief all the same.

She wanted this just as much as I did and she wanted to revel in it just like me.

It was temporary, of course. The kind of trauma we had was so deep seated that simply compelling it into silence just once would not be enough to win, to get our peace. It would be back and it very well might be back with more fire and fury and vengeance than ever before, but I didn't want to think of that now. Nor did I want to discount the virtue of our victory.

We had won, for however long it might last we were winners.

And winning was cause for celebration.

I watched in the mirror as she smiled a smile of satisfaction and fell back onto the bed, breathing out a sigh of relief. Tilting my head to the side to keep her in sight as I watched her lie back in repose, her breasts rising and falling as she breathed in slow and steady.

Hands starting to move, starting to run up and down her sides without touching and without caressing. Just running over the length of her body and teasing without making a connection, feeling the heat of her form all the same.

Celebration. Oh yes this was going to be a celebration. A celebration of victory and a moment of progress, a new beginning perhaps.

And right now there was only one way I could think of to show my appreciation for the part I played.

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