Elsa

To say that this was a beautiful day would have been to understate things to a great degree ... it was glorious!

In late spring, it was warm, with just a hint of a breeze, just enough to tussle one's hair. The air smelled sweet ... not overly floral ... but just a general sweetness in the breeze. This day was a gift; one that makes you feel good to be alive.

She was very pretty!

She was sitting alone on the park bench, reading. I was struck by the overall look of her; her blonde hair and clear blue eyes that seemed to have captured the sky in them. She had such delicate features and was lithe of figure and limb.

The breeze would occasionally lift her hem of her yellow sundress just enough to see a flash of thigh. Her dress had thin shoulder straps, which showed just enough cleavage to give you a hint at how lovely her breasts might be. They seemed to be firm, round, and a little larger than you might expect with such a diminutive girl.

I fell in love with her instantly—I had to know her. My heart quickened as I approached her. As I sat next to her, I started with a casual comment,

"Good morning, lovely day isn't it." She said nothing, but kept her attention fixed on her reading. I frowned a little at my complete lack of success in capturing her attention.

"May I ask what you are reading, Miss?"

Nothing! I decided to be more insistent,

"May I ask what you are reading, Miss? I said loudly enough to catch the attention of a man fifty yards down the path. Without raising her eyes, she took out a little writing pad in a well-used leather cover, opened it and scribbled a note. It was then that she slowly raised her eyes to me, as she handed it to me with the slightest of smiles. It read,

"There is no need to shout, but if you are patient with me, I read lips!"

Oh my God, she is deaf, I thought. But, I was too taken with her and was insistent on at least the pleasure of a simple conversation with such a stunningly gorgeous creature. So I moved in front of her, sitting on my haunches and wearing a sheepish smile as I said,

"Hello ... Miss. My ... name ... is ... Michael!" I said with kind of an exaggerated articulation.

She covered her mouth with her hand to hide a giggle. Then she raised an eyebrow slightly as she wrote,

"I am deaf, not an imbecile Michael! Nice to meet you, I'm Elsa."

A little embarrassed, and now speaking normally, as I would to anyone else I said,

"I'm sorry Elsa. You are very pretty."

"She said "Thank you Michael, you have a nice face."

She gestured the same message in American Sign Language (ASL) also. I was to learn that she does this so that people with whom she communicates regularly will start to recognize the signs. She uses the note pad only sparingly when she doesn't care to speak, or is embarrassed by her voice. Non-hearing people cannot hear their own voices, and so cannot correct the sound of their voice like hearing persons can.

"I'm glad you like it. I did inquire about the book you were reading, just as a conversation starter.

She smiled, and turned the book up to show the title. She was reading

Mansfield Park

by Jane Austin. I had always considered Jane Austin novels to be books for women ... I think most men do. A former girlfriend insisted that I read

Pride and Prejudice

and I just get into the story.

What a terrifically well-defined character Elizabeth Bennett is! She was a strong and independent woman for her time. The somewhat dark and brooding Mr. Darcy was the perfect foil for her disgust at his arrogance. His pride and her prejudice against him made you wonder if they would ever get together.

I told Elsa,

"I have read it. It is a great read ... but I am certain that you have read it before. That's the thing I learned from her novels, that you see something different in them with each reading ... I have read

Pride and Prejudice

twice!

I saw the most beautiful smile cross her face as she said carefully,

"Michael, I agree with you completely. I feel the same way. I have indeed read this one several times as you suggested."

I smiled back at her and decided to go for broke,

"I was just on my way to a nice little coffee shop down around the corner here (pointing). Would you care to join me?"

She looked me up and down, and I thought, "Shit! I struck out with a pretty girl ... again!" Then she smiled and nodded yes, snapped her book closed, and stuffed it in her carry bag with her notebook. I took her hand to help her up, and we walked the block and a half, with her arms wrapped around mine.

She liked me!

We had a nice little conversation over coffee and raspberry scones. She is quiet, but intelligent, and seemed to be well educated. I found out that she is twenty, and finishing her studies as a librarian, a profession where she would not have to over-use her voice.

I also found out that she has a very devilish and somewhat bratty sense of humor, and teased me when she thought I was becoming too full of myself. She does not have a boyfriend or—what is the euphemism—a 'significant other.'

She told me that a girlfriend had given her a couple of concert tickets she couldn't use, and asked if I was interested in going with her. It was for a concert by the local chamber orchestra, playing a Brahms and Shubert, program. I wondered why a deaf girl would be interested in concert tickets. I said,

"Yes, sounds like fun!"

She breathed a sigh of relief with a pretty smile, and gave me a peck on the cheek. Then she lowered her eyes, and blushed. That little touch of crimson on her cheeks made her look incredibly beautiful.

She told me that she has been deaf since birth, but she has two hearing parents. She often prefers not to speak in the presence of strangers, or those who simply have difficulty understanding her, and that is the reason for the notebook. Some hearing people are 'put off' by the sound of her speaking voice, but I find it rather clear from someone who cannot hear what her voice sounds like. I grew to love the sound of her voice.

She told me that I instinctively did the right thing when I started to speak to her, to introduce the topic of the conversation first to give a deaf person some context to follow. She said that most common signs like 'please' and 'thank you,' are relatively easy for people to understand whether they know ASL or not, so she uses a combination of speech and signing along with body language to communicate.

As we talked, I was careful to face her, since I didn't know sign language yet, and found out that dating 'hearing' boys and men got to be a problem after a while. Mostly, they would give her up with the difficulty of communicating. They were sometimes gone when she didn't 'put out' on the first date. I told her that I could not promise anything, but that I liked her and would try hard to communicate with her.

I walked her back to her place, which was a brownstone apartment building, and as we stood on the top step, she turned to me and said,

"You can give me a goodbye kiss if you would like, Michael!"

My lips just melted into her soft sweet lips. I just wanted to go on kissing this pretty girl, but we had just met, and I did not want to scare her away. I brushed a strand of blonde hair from her brow, smiled and said,

"See you Friday, Elsa."

She smiled and nodded. As I jogged down the stairs, I thought to myself, "Damn! Just ... damn!" She is sweet, smart and she has a wonderful sense of humor. I vowed to try very hard with his one. I could hardly wait until Friday, but had five days to wait.

The outdoor chamber concert was great. She wore a light blue summer sundress; but carried a soft white sweater in case it got chilly. We found a seat near the back, and as we sat and listened, I found that just a slight touch on her shoulder would get her attention. I would describe the music to her at various points, and always received a smile and nod of understanding.

I like Brahms, but chamber orchestras usually play some of the smaller, more obscure pieces. Although I was unfamiliar with most of the selections, I enjoyed them. I also enjoyed the light that played in Elsa's eyes as she watched the musicians.

They had a local soprano singing a couple of Schubert songs (

lieder

) and during the first one, I used my finger to turn her face to me saying,

"This woman is singing a song in German." I said, trying to let her know what was happening.

She smiled at me and giggled saying,

"

Ja! Ich verstehe!

"

"Okay, so you understand German! Thanks for making me feel like a fool!" Her smile sweetened and she put her hand on my arm and she quickly added,

"Not a fool, Michael, you were sweet to help me enjoy!"

She might be deaf, but she enjoyed the spectacle of the outdoor concert: the lights, the people, and gleaming instruments. I felt that she was hearing it in her own way. And, of course she understood the German singers. My face is still a little red from that one!

As the breeze picked up she started to put the sweater around her shoulders and I helped her into it, but quite accidentally bushed my hand against her breast as I did. She looked at me with a soft smile, and I mouthed the words, "I'm sorry," and she quietly said,

"That's okay, Michael ... I rather enjoyed it!" then she giggled as she blushed a little.

I pulled the sweater around her a little tighter as I peered down into her bosom, and put my arm around her. She cuddled up against me, wearing a satisfied smile. She casually put her tiny hand on my thigh, just above the knee, and slowly moved her fingers in a light circular massage as the musicians still captured her attention.

At one point near the end, as I watched the musicians, l caught her looking at me. I turned my head, but she did not look away, instead, she smiled sweetly and slowly turned her attention back to the stage. I have seen that look on women before and I know that it means, "I like you, Michael!"

I liked her too.

She could tell (somehow) that the concert was ending, and clapped when everyone else did. I love music, but was wondering how I would share it with his woman, who also seemed to love it, but could not hear it. Being with her was going to be a challenge. I was to find out that few people are completely deaf, that most can hear something, and the vibrations give them a sense of the tempo, and the rhythm.

As we got up to leave, she immediately curled her body inside of an embrace, as I put my arms around her. She reached up on tiptoes, and kissed me. We walked slowly back to the car, and drove her to a quiet and cozy little restaurant, for an

après

-concert snack, and maybe a drink. We shared a light meal, with wine, and had an Irish coffee to warm us up.

In the car on the way back to her apartment, I noticed her hem slide up showing a lot of thigh, and she saw me noticing. The little devil on her left shoulder must have whispered in her ear, because she pulled it up another couple of inches with a naughty smile. I didn't dare spoil the moment by touching her, since this was our first real date. I enjoyed the sight of her shapely thighs.

At her apartment stoop, we stood by the front door talking, and I felt a little bold, and asked,

"Aren't you going to invite me up for milk and cookies?"

She laughed, and I saw a devilish smile flit across her face, but she said,

"Kiss me and go home, Michael."

She tiptoed up and gave me a very passionate kiss. Her tongue brushed lightly against my lips, and I touched the tip of her tongue with the tip of mine. She responded by sliding her tongue further into my mouth and just as I was getting into this, she withdrew and said,

"Thank you Michael, I had a wonderful time! Please call me ... i-if you would like!"

I smiled and said, looking at her directly, "I will Elsa, honey"

Kind of bold using that endearment on the first date, but she reacted to it with a smile. I took her key from her, opened her door for her and handed it back to her, as she disappeared inside. I skipped down the stairs and down the street to my car like a poor imitation of Gene Kelly.

We went out several times over the next month or so, before she asked me in the car after a dinner date, if she would ever get to see my place. I answered,

"Yes. Tonight if you would like!" she smiled and said,

"Yes Michael that would be nice."

She purposely waited well past our third date to bring up the topic of sex. Likely, some of her hearing boyfriends were more interested in sex, than a relationship with a deaf girl. She was just protecting herself, as someone who might be very familiar with heartache dealing with hearing boys. At twenty-three, I am really past the 'boy' stage.

We have had enough dates for a little closer romance to occur, ever though we had parked on our third date. She allowed me to slide my hand up her skirt, and lightly massaging her panty-covered crotch. I also became intimately familiar with her softball-sized breasts. She is a very warm and loving companion, and I could not wait to get her into my bed.

As we settled into my living room, I gave her a glass of wine, and put on a romantic movie, thinking that soft music would be lost on her. I was starting to get very good at sign language by now, and we often had wordless conversations—just signing. It wasn't long before we were necking, and my hand found its way up her skirt once again. She turned and pulled me down on top of her as our attention to the movie faded.

I love kissing her. My face just seemed to melt into hers, and I just could not get enough of her. I slipped the straps of her dress down, and pulled the top of her dress down to expose her bra, containing her beautiful breasts. I kissed her as I massaged her large breasts with my hands. She was moaning a little from the touches to her sensitive breasts.

I slid my hands down her body, letting my fingers explore the edges of her panties. I found a place to slip my finger in and drew it across her pussy. When I slid my finger inside her pussy, she moaned louder as she pushed her lips into mine harder. After a while, she broke the kiss, pushed me away, and a little breathlessly, she signed,

"Can we find a more comfortable place to do this Michael?"

Without a word, I picked her up in my arms and carried her up the stairs into my bedroom. She seemed to be enjoying the manly attention as she gently put her arms around my neck, and smiled sweetly into my face.

I placed her on the bed on her back as she drew her knees up giving me a nice view of her panties. She must have listened to her little devil again, because she gave me the most seductive look I have seen from her as she signed,

"Come and get it big boy!"

The depth of passion in this seemingly innocent little girl never ceases to amaze me. Then all of a sudden, she put her hand to her side, and moaned a little as if in pain.

"Oh my God, Elsa ... are you alright?"

"Oh yes Michael, just an old injury, I get little twinges every once in a while. Come here and make love to your Elsa!"

Her seductive smile returned almost as soon as it had faded and I moved into the bed and between her inviting thighs. I pushed her dress up a little and pulled her panties off as she lifted her hips to help me.

God she was beautiful!

She has the most perfectly formed pussy I have ever seen, lightly covered with blond hair. I moved my face between her thighs, and just took a moment to breathe in her female scent; She smelled sweet ... floral ... not even a hint of musk. My cock was straining at the fabric of my pants.

As I touched my lips to her mound, she gasped loudly. Deaf girls just moan in a soft hum, as I was soon to find out when they are aroused. I tousled her soft pubic hair with my lips, just enjoying the feeling and aroma of her sex. I had to quickly reach down and rearrange my manhood to a better position as it was growing longer and harder.

She breathed in sharply as I started to lick her little clit. She held her breath, but then let it out in little huffs as my tongue explored her moist pussy lips. She shuddered with soft hums as I slid my tongue inside her.

I heard her soft sweet voice say, "Ohhh, Michael!!"

After her strong orgasm from my attentions to her sweet pussy, we just lay in each other's arms. She was licking her juices from my mouth and tongue like a hungry little kitten. She was so happy, that tears started to form in her eyes. She mouthed the words, 'I love you!" as she looked deep, deep into my eyes.

"Elsa, I am going to make love to you tonight ... all night!" I told her.

She slowly nodded her head, and just slowly said,

"M'kay Michael!"

I was beginning to love the sound of her speaking voice. I was soft ... kind of a natural sounding voice, completely devoid of any accent. I love the way she said 'Michael' in her speaking voice. With hearing girls, it was just a name, but in her voice, she made it sounded musical.

She pulled off my shirt and then went to work and my pants, unbuttoning and unzipping, she pulled them off as if she could not get them off fast enough. She started to take her dress off, but I quickly signed,

"No honey, leave it on."

The top of her dress was already down exposing her bra-covered breasts, so I reached behind to undo her bra, and pulled it off. She was now clothed in just her cotton summer dress; with the top pulled down and the bottom pushed up. I love the feel of flesh mixed with the soft fabric as I make love sometimes. Is that what they call a fetish? Not sure.

I pushed her dress up further over her hips, as I gently fondled her breasts, sucking her puffy nipples into my mouth. She was in ecstasy! I don't know if she was lucid or not, but I had six and a half inches of throbbing meat wanting to be inside her. I slowly slid it in as far as I could, and I could see her vagina expanding to take in the thicker than average girth. She moaned as I pushed it into her.

She was shuddering into her second orgasm as I just held it deep inside her. I started kissing her, noisily, sloppily, open-mouthed. I was mauling her mouth as I started a slow rhythm in and out of her. She had me so turned on! She was humming and moaning louder as I picked up the pace. Being our first time I did not want to pound it into her, so I reached a nice even but urgent pace.

She grabbed my face and turning it toward her, and said in a breathless voice,

"Oh ... Michael, I ... love it! Please ... fuck me ... good ... darling!"

I never thought I would hear the 'f-word' escape those sweet soft little lips, but, I have to say, it turned me on. As I started to slid in and out of her sweet pussy more urgently, I decided to see how far she would go, and asked,

"Tell me what you want me to do to you, Elsa!"

"I want you to fuck me Michael! I want you to FUCK ME!!"

"Tell me what a little slut you are for asking to be fucked!"

"Oh Michael am such a little slut ... I am

your

slut!!"

"Tell me how you want it sweetheart!"

"I want you to fuck your little slut hard. FUCK MY PUSSY HARD, MICHAEL!!"

She was pushing up against me like a little wild woman, flexing her hips to get me inside her as far as possible. Then she started to spasm, and screamed at the top of her lungs, as she came hard. She convulsed for a long time but I was not far behind as I stiffened, and came deep inside her, shuddering violently with each spurt.

We relaxed with my cock still deep inside her, as we both started to cool down. It turned me on greatly hearing her talk dirty to me. I looked down into her sweaty face with its attractive blush, and I said, looking her in her liquid blue eyes,

"How is my sweet, beautiful little slut?"