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“Oh, on, please.” Rubiedefinitelywanted sex on the table. On the kitchen table, in fact. She let her imagination run away with her for a moment, pictured Anna sweeping all their food prep aside, and tugging her off the kitchen stool so she could ravish Rubie on the table. Rubie laughed. “Literally would also be fine.”
Anna rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “That sounds great to me, sweet girl; is there anything in particular you’d like me to know about you and how you like things?”
“Well, I’m not self-lubricating,” said Rubie bluntly. “So lots and lots of lube, but I’m good with any and all holes; I do still have a prostate.”
She was delighted to see how Anna smiled. “I love how forthright you are,” the other woman said. “Truly, it’s so refreshing.”
“That’s the ‘tism for you,” laughed Rubie, and her laugh was genuine. She didn’t feel like she had to mask herself with Anna, that she had to pretend to be anyone other than who she truly was, and it was so damn freeing.
“So,” said Anna. “Yes to kisses, yes to sex, yes to you calling me Mommy and letting me look after you.”
“Yes yes yes,” said Rubie. She reached over and turned off the gravy. “Let me sort the turkey, take my pills and then we can cosy up by the fire, Mommy?”
“How about,” suggested Anna, “I sort the turkey for you—carved and gravied, yes?—whilst you take your pills and cosy up by the fire and wait for Mommy?”
“That sounds heavenly,” sighed Rubie. “Yes, please.”
As she waited by the fire, after taking her pills, Rubie grabbed Penguin from her luggage.
Rosie, the crochet queen of Stuffie Hospital London, had made Penguin for her birthday the previous year; a nod to Rubie’s love for Christmas, snow and everything penguin-y. Cuddled up to her, she chatted to the stuffie softly.
“Guess what, Penguin, I’ve got a Mommy for Christmas! Isn’t that lovely? She’s pretty and tall and has the coolest haircut and I likes her a lot.”
“You do?” asked a voice in the doorway, and she saw Anna peeking round from the kitchen, with this soft, caring look on her face. “Well, I happen to like you a lot too, sweetheart. Now, have you got any storybooks with you? Do you like stories?”
“Ilovestories,” said Rubie enthusiastically. “And Penguin has a book written about her! I brought it with me so I could read it to her.”
“You pop along and get it, and once I’ve put everything into the fridge, I’ll come and read it to you.”
“Yay!” said Rubie, not caring if she sounded like a cliché. Jumping up, she almost fell over in her eagerness to get to her suitcases. Anna must have moved them into the bedroom, because they were parked neatly there, next to a bedside table. She opened the smaller one up and riffled through her toys so she could get to the small parcel of picture books that she’d bundled up at the bottom of the bag.
Grabbing the one with a penguin on the front that looked remarkably like Penguin—which had nothing to do with the fact that she’d told Rosie that it was her favourite picture book before Rosie made her Penguin, no, not at all—and raced back into the living room.
In the few minutes that she’d been gone, Anna had pulled blankets and cushions off the sofa, and laid them out on the floor. “Come along, baby girl,” she said. “We can get all nice and cosy down here.”
And that was exactly what they did. Anna tugged Rubie until she fell backwards into the brunette’s arms, and then proceeded to read the story to her in anexcellentvoice, including different voices for different characters. It was really rather perfect.
Penguin thought so too, and nodded along and made little squeaky noises at her favourite bits. That made Anna laugh and ask to be formally introduced.
“This is Penguin, Mommy. Penguin, this is Mommy, who I was telling you about.”
“Very pleased to meet you Penguin,” said Mommy, and shook Penguin’s flipper formally.
Rubie snuggled up against her then, nestling her head between two rather comforting breasts, and allowing herself to breathe out slowly.
This was her favourite thing about Littlespace. Everything was so immediate. She felt everything so much more acutely, but she also felt so much calmer. Or at least she did with Mommy.
She turned to say this to Mommy, but when she met Anna’s eyes she didn’t feel Little at all. She felt quite quite Big.
Putting Penguin to the side, Rubie slipped into a cross-legged position; kneeling was far too hard on her joints, and with her soft belly and thighs, sitting like this was much more comfortable. “Mommy,” she said quietly. “Can you kiss me please?”
Anna’s eyes flared with desire, her pupils dilating as if she were trying to take in every inch of Rubie’s face. “Of course, my darling,” she said. And then she kissed her.
If their first kiss had been like a whisper, this was like shouting from the top of the highest mountain. Not that it was particularly hard; no harsh angular movements, but softness. So soft that they almost melted into one another in a meld of lips and tongues and then hands that cupped Rubie’s face and intensified everything.
It was a kiss that wanted to be heard, that wanted to leave a mark, and Rubie suddenly realised that having Anna as her Mommy for Christmas might not be enough.
Chapter Five
