Ashlyn, a tall but shy enby girl

You wait for her outside her place of work, a small store that sells therapeutic crystals about a block away from the mall.

When the hour strikes, your girlfriend emerges, her lightweight backpack slung over one shoulder, and a faintly troubled look on her face.

Ashlyn is a thin girl, several years your junior, but very much taller than you. Your body's 25, she's 19. Her hair is blonde, shorn short in a buzzcut, and she has angular hips. Her chest is practically non-existant.

Today, she's wearing tennis shoes, gray lounge pants, and a black tee.

You ambush the young woman, throwing your arms around her waist. Before she can react, you also pop up on your toes and kiss her lips.

"Hey Ash," you say, smiling and embracing her with warmth.

The trouble on Ashlyn's brow smooths out. She gives a little smile and belatedly cirlces her arms loose around your shoulders. "Hi Carrie."

You can feel something's wrong by her voice. "How's my favorite girl's day going?" you ask, canting your head to the side.

Ashlyn ducks her head, looking down. She links her fingers behind your back. "I don't exactly feel girly today..."

You nod and change your approach. "Then how's my favorite person?"

Your six-foot-three girlfriend glances up and hides a small smile. "Better now that you're here."

You give her another kiss. Ashlyn murmurs contentedly against your lips, and her hands gently grip your shoulders. Despite her height, you're the one who leads in the relationship. It's been that way since you saw her in that crystal shop and realized how desparately you needed to ask her out.

The kiss ends.

"Give you a ride home?" you ask, sensing it might be a hard day for Ashlyn.

She shakes her head. "Can I stay with you tonight? Me and my mom are fighting again."

Ashlyn lives at home with her mom. They don't get along, but they're all they have so they stick close, even when neither of them like it.

"Of course you can stay at my place, babe," you say, stroking Ashlyn's cheek. "Cassidy's visiting tonight. Is that okay?"

She leans into your touch, her hand coming up to press your fingers against her skin. "Your sister's nice. I don't mind. Thank you for giving me a place to go... I love you."

"I love you too, Ash." You kiss her chest, right atop the collar of her tee. You hold her tight around her slender waist with your other arm.

You sink into the feeling of her lithe body against your soft curves, but just for a minute. You exit the embrace holding hands, and lead your girlfriend to where you parked.

--

When you're through the door, you sit with Ashlyn on your bed for a good hour, just talking.

Your apartment's clean, besides the art supplies, easel, and paints - downsizing property after becoming Carrie has been a real boon to your attempts at organization. There's a small bathroom, kitchenette, loveseat, and TV, and that's about it.

But you and Ashlyn, of course, are on the bed.

After talking about work, the wacky customers that come into the crystal shop, you prompt Ash to tell you about the argument she's had this time with her mom. It usually revolves around Ashlyn's non-binary identity. Today's is no different.

"I just don't feel like a girl," says Ashyln, choosing to look at the painting you've been working on rather than you. It's a half-sketched rough of a silvery fish, covered in colors. Her mood is heavy. "I don't look like a girl." She gestures to her uniformly thin, somewhat bony fgure. "I'm just... awkward. I don't fit in with anything."

It's hard being tall _and _a woman. People overlook you. They choose to ignore you. Especially when you don't fit their standards of beauty. You've always tried to be open minded as a guy, but seeing who you dated - Carrie, now Cassidy - you can see you had a type as a man.

As a woman, though, to you Ashlyn is beautiful. Quiet, but strong. Sensitive to criticism, but sensitive to others as well.

You squeeze her hand and cup her chin, gently leading her to look at you. "I think you're pretty just how you are."

"You're the only one," says Ashyln, mood turning gray again.

Your young girlfriend doesn't just have hard days from her experiences. She also deals with depression, sometimes. Luckily she has medication for it, but it's rough. You've never had to deal with mental illness so you don't truly know the struggle. You focus on being as patient and accepting as you can be.

But there is one thing you can do that usually starts Ashyln feeling better again.

You tug Ashlyn's face toward yours again. This time, though, you plant a kiss on her nose. Then just beneath each eye.

She relaxes.

Then you kiss her on the mouth.

She sighs.

You gently push her back down on the bed. She follows your lead, as always, the tension bleeding out of her wherever your hands roam. With care, and love, you undress Ash, and situate her on the bed so there's room for both of you.

You take off your own clothes. You give her full access to your body, cradling the lovely girl in your arms. She's warm, light, like a sunbeam.

Ashlyn licks and suckles at your breasts for a long time. Ash really likes that. To be fair, you do too. Your body has perfect, full, wonderful breasts, and it fills you with soft, relaxing heat whenever someone touches them. And whenever you make love, or even just fool around, Ash loves playing with your boobs. She gives you, and them, special attention you never even considered possible when you were Dave.

You've learned so much in your new role, your new life. And you want to keep learning. Ashyln's been a big part of your self-discovery. You owe her so much.

But though you stroke and touch Ash as she caresses your skin, it's not enough. It never is. She wants more. The effortlessly elegant non-binary girl seeks your touch like a serpent seeks sunlight.

So, you give Ash what she's only ever been able to get from you.

You kiss and taste and touch your way all around her body, all along her long, beautiful limbs. You kiss her fingers and toes, you stroke her scalp and the nape of her neck, making her coo and sigh.

A trail of caresses leads you down her chest, down her stomach and navel. Stroking her hips, you hold her firm and in control. Your lips find hers. Her core is warm and needful between her legs.

You touch your tongue to her folds. Taste her skin, her tentative excitement. You tease and play, and massage. Even the slightest movement sends aftershocks through Ash's body.

You have her under your complete control, and it thrills you like few things have.

She reaches her limit. You push her past it. Ash doesn't climax with moans, or gasps. She tenses, pulling into herself further and further, losing herself to the world. Totally silent except her hard breathing, she falls limp beneath your hands. She sinks deep into the bed, exhausted, but finally at peace.

"Thank you..." she murmurs, struggling in vain to keep her eyes open.

You curl up beside her, continuing your caresses up and down her smooth flank. "Shh," you say, kissing her on the mouth again, slowly. "You can rest. I'm here, Ash. I'll take care of you."

Trusting herself totally into your arms, Ash allows you to lull her to sleep.

You stay in bed for a long time with her in your arms. You're not tired yourself, but she's has a long day. And holding her, being with her, is all you want to feel for a long time.

Suddenly, you hear a soft knock at the door. Cassidy, it must be. Is it that late already?