Stars Dancing [Dreams-To-Lovers Romance]

137: They Way It Really Was



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EURI

"Come here, Shah," I said, arms open, both of us fully clothed.

Portia, relaxed from the thorough massage I'd given her, rested her head on my chest as my arms went around her. Did you think this was going to be a chapter about squirting? If so, let me send you over to Chapter 105: The Starliner Special of Known Cosmos Book 2 and episode seven of Eclipse Chasers of Yester Rear.

You'll be a pro if you review those. The animation is beautifully done, of course. Thankfully Ryst left plenty of details in her journals, and my dad wrote the best hetero Starliner Special for the book. Then I wrote the animation. Yep, two men who've never given a woman the pleasure of ejaculating wrote those scenes, but they are still awesome.

Will I ever make a woman come that way? Maybe. Wait, are you confused? Did you think Portia and I were sexperts now? What, you read her chapter and thought all of our dysfunction had magically disappeared because of a blissful night of prostate stim?

The fact that a mirka set our sleep schedules should've been a clue for ya. Yeah, Frank was the only member of our family with any sense, and she was a girl rodent named Frank, for sand's sakes. Let's go back and tell the story like I saw it.

Our first night together, Portia and I both had heart-opening climaxes. She ran to the bathroom to hide because she couldn't handle that much emotion pouring out of her chest. It tore me apart body and soul, and her twin held me in a magical telepathic embrace so I didn't die from heartbreak. I wasn't sure if I'd survive it if it happened again.

Thankfully, once she finally came out of the bathroom, Shah didn't want to run away anymore because that didn't feel any better. When I realized that she wasn't going to leave me again, my problem was solved. I wanted to have heart-opening sex with Portia. I liked feeling emotional with her. I wanted to be close and cuddle and whisper sweet nothings to each other. Conversations that lasted hours and turned into days and weeks? Sounded like bliss to me.

But, it wasn't that simple with Shah. Remember how I told you at the beginning of this that the Sloan Sibs threw every calculation off? I developed theories about why. But I only had theories because I still didn't know Portia very well. I got to know her through what she didn't say. I paid attention to what was going on around the edges.

Because she didn't talk to me directly about much. But I'd grown up in a family that had The Three Principles, and one of them was "Listen." I was good at listening to things that people didn't say.

Having sex with Portia was overwhelming at times and confounding. She was my girlfriend, yeah, but she was also Rilla Sandewen and Psy Ling. So, I got fucked a lot by Rilla who was researching how to have a boyfriend. I got fucked a lot by Psy Ling who was writing a novel. I got fucked a lot by my girlfriend Shah who wanted to know how it felt to have a prostate orgasm.

Thankfully, it felt heavenly, so she stayed curious. That was the key for Portia being able to be intimate and not run away and hide. She had to focus on curiosity. Humor helped too. So, having fun experimenting helped her be comfortable. Especially because the funnier we were, the funnier the stories she was writing in her head were.

She wrote stories in her mind whenever we were in bed together. That's how I learned that she wrote her books by experimenting with her own pleasure. Yeah, my girl was a wanking expert.

Portia had no shyness whatsoever about personal pleasure. She wasn't technically shy with me. It wasn't shyness or embarrassment that caused her to want to run and hide. It was emotion that was her weakness. She didn't know how to be with someone, anyone when she felt deeply.

Unless it was me doing the feeling. I could have heart-opening climax after heart-opening climax, and we'd both be comfortable. Once I had known she wasn't gonna leave me, it didn't hurt me. I wanted to keep opening up my heart to her. And she could become me telepathically and experience everything I felt, and then she felt comfortable having a heart-opener too—as me.

I could have all the heart-opening climaxes I wanted, and she could experience them and feel great. It was much, much easier for her to experience my pleasure than it was to experience it from her own point of view. My perspective was the best. Rillas or Psy Ling's were frequently in the mix, but mine was when it was the best for her.

So, she stimmed me over and over and loved how it felt. And I gave her what she needed to have the climaxes she really wanted. Her being in charge in bed only went so far. She needed me to take over in order to let go of her busy mind.

Her mind was constant. It almost never stopped whirling. How should she touch me next? What would I like? How was she gonna climax? What could she write about my moaning and writhing? How could she describe the sensation of being ejaculated into?

It got in her way, and she couldn't relax mentally long enough to really enjoy what was happening until I told her what to do. She needed to be commanded to relax or to come or to feel me feeling good. And then she could let go of her mind. Or, if she felt me going absolutely crazy, she could let go and enjoy herself because I was so turned on.

I had theories about Portia's mind and why she was the way she was. Why it was so hard for her to let her mind relax. I thought it had to do with her telepathy and her family and how she grew up. I put the pieces together by comparing and contrasting Portia's mind to Ronnie's, mine, and the other telepaths I'd grown up with.

I'd grown up with Auntie Ryst and my brother Dwinlyn always mentally near. As kids, Dwin and I didn't know anything other than telepathy with someone safe. We had one dad who was a little bit sort of telepathic, and one who was naturally closed off mentally.

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That's Muse and Mets, respectively. But Muse and Mets liked telepathy, and they practiced it with each other and us. They'd been doing it for years before we were even born. Dwin and I were open books mentally and emotionally.

Ryst was always there as a loving presence, and she shut her mental curtain to block us from a lot of her thoughts, but kept her warm, loving heart near us much of the time. She made us practice putting a curtain around our minds, so we never had to live overwhelmed by telepathy.

We never really felt like it was a problem to be the way we were. We had friends in the village and ran around all over the oasis and kept our minds to ourselves without a problem. We didn't get overwhelmed by other people's feelings and thoughts because we knew how to curtain ourselves off from all that. If we didn't want people's thoughts coming into our minds, we didn't connect to those people.

I'm not gonna say we weren't strange. We were definitely a family of misfits. One dad with a metal hand who controlled tech with his mind and kept that a secret from everyone— even my Nona and Poppops didn't know Dad hacked his relay. And my other dad was lost in music half the time. Dwin was too, so that was just the norm for us.

Then our Auntie was sick a lot, and there were murmurs that she could see the future. I didn't know this wasn't happening to other kids until I was around six or seven. There were two kids in the village who were seelees. They communicated with the mirkas, which was basically animal telepathy, but other than that, there wasn't anyone else like me and Dwin.

But it wasn't scary or frightening for us because our family was just the way it was, so we grew up thinking it was normal to have an Auntie who could comfort us in the middle of the night telepathically if we woke up from a nightmare, even though she was in her house, and we were in ours.

I didn't know for sure, but I doubted Portia had ever felt that secure. I knew her parents, Borden and Nika, and I'd been around their minds enough to know that they were loving, kind, and generous, but they weren't telepaths. No, they were far more closed mentally than the average person.

See, I had started classifying people into groups when I was young. There were people who I definitely didn't want anywhere near my mind. Dwin and I stayed away from this one bakery in the village because a man there gave me an acrid mental scent and Dwin said he sounded "grating."

I tended to describe people's minds as scents or flavors, and Dwin as sounds. Most people baseline always spouted out thoughts that they didn't control. Usually it was worries about their kids, or jobs, or money, or to-do-lists. Average run-of-the-mill anxiety.

Then there were people who had better control of their minds. Those were usually the dojo crowd, and the more beads they had, the tighter their minds were. That's because Tindin, the martial art of Shurwinn, was all about self-knowledge. So, the higher the rank the person, the greater their self-awareness, and the less thoughts they spewed out at the telepaths.

That was my observation, at least, and Dwin agreed with me. I thought that maybe that was why Mets was pretty well shielded against telepathy naturally, because he was aware of who and what he was, and he was intentional about everything he did. Focus was my metal-handed dad.

Borden and Nika Sloan were kind of similar to Mets. They had that aroma about their minds of being people who knew what they were doing and were driven to do it. So, their minds were comfortable to be around; they didn't pulse out a constant flurry of anxiety.

But I theorized that when Portia and Ronnie were born, their little baby brains tried to reach out to their parents, and their parents didn't know to be open to them the way my Auntie was with me and Dwin. And Aunt Ryst had explained it all to my dads who'd then practiced being open to us when we were babies.

But if Portia and Ronnie didn't grow up with that mental and emotional openness, then the only people they could hold onto that felt safe were each other. And they didn't have someone telling them to curtain off their minds. They'd probably had to figure all that out on their own.

I'd bet money that Ronnie was the one who'd figured out telepathic sheilding and that he'd spent most of his life protecting Portia's mind until she learned to do it herself. That was a theory, though. Ronnie didn't tell me that.

After Portia and I started spending the night together, I told Ronnie that his sister needed to tell me her story herself. I didn't want to hear about her from her brother. Ronnie agreed with me wholeheartedly. So, Ronnie told me about himself, but he didn't talk to me about Shah.

Shah didn't talk to me about Shah either. She tried. She made a little progress. It was easiest if she talked about her stories and her characters. But we hadn't gotten to childhood memories.

She talked about writing Rilla and Rawl and the spheres she and Ronnie had traveled to. What places had inspired the forests in her books or the city scapes. What it was like traveling all over the galaxy looking for interesting settings for stories. The cuisines and fashion. All the places that had inspired her writing and Ronnie's art.

I listened to her talk about life as a story chaser, and that's how I developed another theory about her. Her life was much more comfortable when she didn't stay put in one place very long. She kept moving and traveling and seeing new things. She didn't have to stop and look behind her or feel what life was doing to her. She didn't put down roots or get attached to anything other than her twin.

Until she met me.

"Let's just go to sleep, Shah." She nodded against my chest, and I could feel her mind whirring through a thousand things. I wasn't giving off a drop of lust because I had none. Nope. The second we'd laid down towels to cover the bed, Portia had started thinking about the reality of female ejaculation that she'd read about in Ryst's journals.

My aunt had been a tenacious, ferocious lover who'd loved soul-ripping climaxes, and the squirting orgasms had made even her feel overwhelmed with emotion. If Ryst had felt that out of control, Portia was terrified to find out what it would do to her.

So, I had absolutely no interest in getting sexy. Portia's body had been able to relax when she felt my desire extinguished, and she'd enjoyed the massage I'd given her, but it was clear we needed a night off of sexual experimentation.

At least, it was clear to me, but it wasn't clear to her. She was still thinking about what she would do in the chapter she needed to write tomorrow, and how could Rilla just go to sleep with Lake Mavwin (the love interest of book seven) without them having a romantic night together?

I was ready. Humor worked with Shah, and I had some things tucked away in my brain. You see, the mental Faraday cage still worked. I just made it really small so it held a few things back while Shah could sense my feelings and thoughts. I still had secrets. I pushed one of my secrets at her overactive mind.

I was sitting in my office working, and Frank the mirka thwacked my earlobe with her tail, mentally, not in real life.

Shah chuckled against my chest. I pushed another memory out. I was sitting in my office chair, my chin in my hand, thinking about what Portia looked like when we woke up in the morning, and Frank the mirka pulled my hair, mentally, not in real life. Shah giggled. Then I was eating oatmeal for breakfast, and Frank stuck her tail in my ear, mentally, not in real life.

Portia lifted her head, laughing. "What, is Frank tormenting you? Telepathically?"

"I think she's a prankster like the rest of us," I chuckled.

"Wait a minute. That sounds an awful lot like Ronnie. You think he put her up to it?"

I laughed fully. "Well, I wouldn't put it past him."

Then I thought about all the stuff Shah and I could do to each other in bed. I mean, I could make her feel like I was hard and driving into her when I was really flaccid and underneath her.

"Wait a minute. What if it's not even Frank? What if Ronnie is actually the one doing this?!" We bellowed in laughter, and I opened up my shield and dropped a ton of bird poop on Ronnie's face, mentally, not in real life.

Shocked to be hearing from me and Portia at night, Ronnie died laughing. He was also confused about why we were pooping on him when he and Frank were sleeping like normal people.

Take what you're owed, Ronnie. After all, we have a family rule about kindness.

Then I put up my shield so he could say no more. Portia and I giggled and giggled until we got too tired to keep our eyes open.

"Problem solved," I thought to myself as we fell asleep.


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