The second ferry story was told me by a sweet Indian transsexual called Pushpa. Whose name I especially relished, because if there was one thing she could do it was push. In fact there were many other things she could do, too, including holding me in her arms, embedded within me, still erect after having come twice. We were, in fact, waiting for her to be ready to push again. Since she was above average size I was enjoying the feel of her inside me.
1
Sadly, the ferry no longer runs from Harwich to Hamburg, but Pushpa recalled an especially happy overnight on it. She boarded as soon as possible, inspected her cabin, and went on deck to enjoy the summer evening, the sights and sounds of the port and the salty air.
Pushpa had just achieved the fulfilment of her transition, and she was so delighted with her fully developed breasts and her exquisitely rounded bottom that she had to stop herself constantly checking them out in mirrors, and wearing revealing tops to display her impressive cleavage. So, she was full of contentment and confidence, which made her acutely aware of the scene and her fellow passengers.
Next to her was a woman grasping the rail either side of the impressive bosom propped on the woodwork. She was apparently gazing into the distance through close-fitting sunglasses. Pushpa perceived that this lady was aware of her, though there was no turning of the head. Pushpa also sensed that she should wait to be addressed, and that something interesting might eventuate.
The woman's first utterance, still without turnng her head, was unusual. 'Would you mind taking me to the dining-room?'
'No, I'd be glad to be of assistance,' Pushpa replied, wondering what was the reason for this request.
'I'm blind, you see,' said the woman, and repeated, 'I'm blind. You see.'
'I'll be glad to take you,' Pushpa said, registering that the profile view certainly made her to want to 'take' this woman, though that might also be to take advantage.
The woman now turned, held out a hand, and said, 'I'm Helga.'
Pushpa took the hand and said her name.
Helga was altogether on a larger scale than Pushpa, taller, bustier, broader in the hips. Her eyes were concealed behind dark glasses, and her grey hair was so short it was almost a crew-cut. Pushpa felt free to indulge in a thorough inspection, while Helga held onto her hand, saying, 'Thank you. I'll be safe with you.'
'How do you know that?' Pushpa asked.
'You get to read people by their voices and hands.' She gripped and released :Pushpa's hand. 'There are people who want to take advantage, but I can spot them.'
'You're on your own, then?'
'Yes. I often make this crossing. My sister puts me on the boat, and I'm collected at the other end. On board I ask people to guide me. I have interesting adventures this way, too.'
Pushpa wondered at the nature of those, but said, 'It's a good way of meeting people, I imagine.'
'Yes, it is, so long as they don't mind talking a lot and letting me get close. If you can't see you have to communicate through the other senses, which is sometimes surprising to others, even shocking. But I don't think you'll be put out at all.'
'I hope not. I have my own reasons for wanting to talk and get close.' She risked adding, 'Perhaps you'll be the one surprised, or shocked.'
Helga laughed. 'I'm pretty much shockproof after fifty years living without sight.'
Pushpa felt bound to say, 'I'm twenty-nine.'
Helga said, 'Thank you. Will you tell me about yourself? I ask blunt questions, you'll find, like What do you look like?'
'I'm smaller than you, in all dimensions, and as I'm Indian I have dark skin and black hair. I'm a university maths teacher, going to give a paper at a conference in Berlin.'
'I am quite a big woman, aren't I? Bit too big, thanks to the meals on this ship. Though if you're sightless you never really know your appearance. You can feel yourself all over, of course, and compare yourself to anyone else you can feel all over.'
This suggested that Helga actually had done this, and presumably with women. She went on, 'I told you I was blunt. How would you describe me, Pushpa?'
'You are quite a big woman, yes. In that tight jersey dress your figure is emphasised. You have impressive breasts and a sizeable behind. I can see the outlines of your underwear, in fact. Your complexion is pale and you have prominent cheek-bones and a straight nose. Your mouth is broad and pink, with big lips.'
'That confirms what others have said. My sister told me about the underwear, but I'm not troubled. Some people even like it, I've found.'
Encouraged by the candour of this conversation Pushpa said, 'I like it.'
'You do? Why is that?'
Pushpa decided to take the risk. 'Because I can imagine taking it off.'
Helga laughed. 'Well now, that's intriguing. I told you I have interesting adventures.'
What did that portend? Was Helga confirming she was open to feeling someone all over, and being felt in turn? Pushpa decided not to press the point at this stage, but to wait and see what followed. Instead she said, 'Why do you often make this crossing?'
'I'm an interpreter. I sit in a booth with earphones and a microphone and turn what I hear in one language into another, as the speakers talk. I'm on my way to Berlin, too, to a trade convention. I don't need to be able to see, just to listen.'
'How many languages do you speak?'
'Six. I was brought up in Stuttgart, so I started with German and French, and I'm most often using those, but I can do others, too.'
'Your English is perfect.'
'It should be, since I live mostly with my sister in the UK. She was married to an Englishman, and when he died she stayed on. Do you have a partner, Pushpa?'
'Not at the moment. I did have one, but that finished.' Pushpa could have given the name, Celia, but hesitated.
Laura said, 'We seem to be getting on well, so another blunt question. May I embrace you? I want to know more about your body.'
'I would like that,' Pushpa assured her, and Laura reached for her, found her upper arms, and drew her into a tight hug.
'You have good breasts yourself, and your waist is so slim. I would feel your bottom if we were not in public.'
'I would feel yours, likewise.'
'I think we've said a lot without saying,' Laura said. 'Perhaps after dinner.'
This was just what Pushpa was hoping for, though there was, of course, a further, potentially fatal, factor to reveal.