#intercultural

More updates had come in the next week about Sevika’s diagnosis. It was indeed a premature menopause, and likely had been brought about early due to her line of work and other environmental stressors early on in her life. There wasn’t much in the way of treatment, though the tips for managing symptoms were helpful. Melatonin gummies assisted in rectifying Sevika’s insomnia, balms and warm baths soothed aching knees and elbows, and hot-cold compresses cleared the ache in her breasts quite nicely.

Unfortunately, the hot flashes continued, with the suggested gabapentin giving Sevika more headaches and swollen limbs than she wanted to put up with. She decided to weather it herself, and as a result, arctic cold became the default setting in the house.

When the symptom of vaginal dryness arrived, Sevika ignored it for as long as possible, but after one close call with tearing, Mel put her foot down. The two researched their options, and Sevika soon started taking Intrarosa. Her wife was also extra fussy about lubrication, and while the older woman found it mildly annoying, she couldn’t deny it made for painless and even hotter, slower, more intense nights.

All in all, they’d managed just fine, and Sevika was happy with the lack of a monthly five-day ordeal for the foreseeable future. Mel adapted at each turn, figuring out how to navigate intimacy and her wife’s sudden needs with grace and enthusiasm. They did it as a team, with each embarrassing and touchy subject being unraveled with care and communication.

But nothing had quite prepared Mel for that one late October morning.

Essence Magazine had finally given her a weekend off, and she’d chosen to spend it curled around her 6’6”, 210 lbs space heater of a wife, thank you very much. Warmth radiating from Sevika was a side effect Mel was rather happy to indulge, even at the older woman’s expense. The alarm clock had other plans, and Sevika began to shift under the covers, her usual sleepy groan hitting Mel’s ears.

Wait- was it usual?

“Baby,” a gravelly voice groused from underneath a smothered pillow. “Baby, mi haffi tek Cookie on her walk.”

Normally, Mel would hug Sevika tighter. Maybe pout about how their baby rottweiler could wait a little longer, but this time her hazel eyes flew open while heat shot to her core. Sevika sounded… different. The usual velvety timbre of her voice sounded harsher and more guttural. It didn’t sound like someone in sore need of a lozenge, still, the register drop was just as apparent.

“Chai! Baby, your voice!”

“Huh?”

“Your voice; e dey change!”

“No idea wha yuh talkin’ about,” Sevika chuckled, rolling and stretching her broad shoulder as she sat up. Mel wasn’t prepared for the throaty rumbling that was now her wife’s chuckle, heat rising in her face as she peered up at Sevika with wide eyes. “Yuh starin’ lik mi grew another head, yuh alrite, Mel?”

Mel narrowed her eyes at her wife. There was no possible way she couldn’t hear the noticeable, sexy difference… right? Sevika started to lean back from how intensely Mel’s eyes bore into hers before the smaller woman sat back and crossed her arms.

“Yes, o,” Mel huffed after a little while. “You go and I’ll get started on breakfast.”

Sevika pressed a kiss to Mel’s temple before getting up to put on her boots and find Cookie’s leash. As soon as the bedroom door closed behind her, and the skittering of their fur baby’s four paws could no longer be heard, Mel yanked open the bedside drawer and snatched out her air vibe, a curved toy with suction and vibration at opposite ends.

She felt a little bit silly having been so keyed up by what could’ve been a rough morning voice. And yet, something told her she was right. During her research in the first six months, Mel had heard about voice dropping being par for the course, a side effect of the rapid hormone shifts.

But this drastically?

Mel threw her head back on the pillows as her legs fell open. She glanced at the clock: 7:30. Eyes fluttering shut, she ran her hands down her body and under her night gown. The first scenario crashed over her like a tidal wave:

She’s pressed into the mattress, practically crushed underneath her wife, eyes crossed as she groans out, “deeper, ye!” Sevika grins before leaning down into her ear.

“Careful wha yuh ask fuh,”

Mel’s breath hitched at that, and she dipped her hand into her panties, circling her already slickening clit. Another thought bubbled up:

Sevika riding her face, beefy brown thighs trembling as she shouts hoarsely, voice thick with pleasure and low with age.

“Fuck, just like that, baby.”

Mel nearly mewled at the idea, switching on the vibe and bringing it to her center. She positioned the end with the small dip over her clit and slid the rounded end into herself, clicking the toy to life. As it buzzed inside her, another vision hit:

“You’re this worked up over my damn voice?”

Two fingers curl inside her, and her back arches, and she nods yes furiously. Sevika grins, sharp, mean, and promising.

“Yuh dutty gyal, yuh lik’ when mi wreck ya pussy, eh?”

Back in reality, Mel shook her head, the familiar tremble in her thighs setting in. Like a rapid-fire reel, she recalled each and every pet name, every taunt, and every praise Sevika had directed at her. Only this time they were deeper, throatier, and much more heady.

It took all of four minutes before Mel curled in on herself, cumming around the toy. She clenched her teeth against the sensations, grinding against the air vibe before finally clicking it off.

What had come over her?

After a shower and a fresh change of sheets, Mel decided to go all out for breakfast. Over forty-five minutes, she whipped up ackee, saltfish, and boiled plantain. She stirred the lemongrass chai in the pot, inhaling the sweet aroma. Pausing to shoot off a text, Mel thanked Sevika’s mummy for the recipes. The seventy-year-old desi woman had sent her a literal bible on WhatsApp with the strictest instructions. Turning back to the stove, Mel finished prepping and plating Cookie a gourmet meal of sweet potato, rice, and boiled chicken breast.

When Sevika returned, clipping the leash back up in the foyer and removing her shoes, Cookie shot off like a rocket to her bowl, immediately scarfing up the bounty Mel made for her. Quietly, Sevika entered the kitchen and caged Mel against the island. She circled her large hands around her wife’s waist and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her bonnet-covered head. The satin gently tickled her lips as she spoke.

“Smells great, princess. All dis fi mi?”

Mel jumped, nearly dropping the spatula. Sevika also stepped back, puzzled at Mel’s reaction.

“Yuh good? Actin’ like yuh seen a ghost.”

Mel shook her head, slapping her palms on the counter while heat crawled up her neck at how rich Sevika’s voice sounded in her ears. “Ah-ah. You no go hear yourself?”

“Dis again,” Sevika huffed and crossed her myoelectric arm over her flesh one. “No, mi nuh hear it, Mel.”

“How?! We’re getting to the bottom of this now now,” Mel muttered as she opened her camera app and hit record. “Go on, say something.”

“Lik wha?” Sevika gruffed, raising a perfectly threaded eyebrow. “Dis ridiculous, ooman.”

“Oya, come see.”

Mel pulled up a video from two months ago, a mirror one of her and Sevika at Shoola’s wedding, where she asked the older woman to review her aso ebi. Sevika’s voice was always low, yes, but here it was slightly lighter. Silkier, if that was the right word. Girlish.

Sevika hummed noncommittally. “Get fi yuh point, Mel.”

Mel swiped to the video she had just taken and pressed play for her wife. As soon as the first syllable hit Sevika’s ears, her eyebrows flew to her hairline, and her nose crinkled in shock.

The difference was jarring. Her voice here still had its signature rasp, but it was low, low. It had a bassy edge to it, and the formerly silky affect took on a more ragged finish. It was as if she had a permanent case of morning voice. When the video ended, she shook her head and looked back at a smug Mel.

“And you wan say I dey craze.”

Sevika steupsed and scratched the back of her head apologetically. “Fine, fine, mi sorry.”

“I’m sorry, who?”

“Oga, I’m sorry,” muttered Sevika, her shoulder shaking with an unvoiced laugh. “Abeg, no go vex, o.”

“I forgive you, sha,” Mel giggled, suppressing a shiver at how pidgin sounded in her wife’s new voice. “You’re getting better by the way.”

“Well, my teacher’s very beautiful, so that helps.”

“Obviously. Come make we chop before it gets cold.”

Breakfast was amazing, as usual, and Sevika praised Mel’s ability to cook something perfectly on the first try. Washing the delicious breakfast down with warm mugs of chai, Sevika rinsed their plates and forks and set them in the dishwasher before the two curled up on the couch and tried to find a movie. Sevika’s arm, harness, and all lay on the coffee table, with the vacuum sleeve rolled up next to it. It was a lazy day through and through, and the two were going to enjoy it to the fullest. Mel draped herself over Sevika’s torso as usual, bringing up her dainty hands to play with her wife’s brown tresses.

Sevika grunted a little at the touch, mostly focused on Badhaai Do as she ran her right hand up and down Mel’s back, where her camisole had ridden up, idly playing with her waist beads. The noise settled in Mel’s ears, rough and heady. Realistically, she knew the sound was innocent, but even as she looked up at Sevika’s relaxed face, glasses perched nicely on her curved nose, she couldn’t help the warmth that bloomed between her thighs.

Mel shook her head a bit and tried to refocus on the movie, slender legs tangled around Sevika’s strong ones. She succeeded for a little while before she nuzzled closer between Sevika’s breasts. That earned her a throaty chuckle, and she almost bit back a whine. Part of her felt a little weird. Sevika was probably oblivious about affecting Mel this much, and yet here she was spontaneously combusting every time her wife so much as hummed. When Mel squirmed around for the fifth time after Sevika chuckled at an onscreen gag, the older woman raised an eyebrow at her.

“Yuh comfy yet?”

Mel bit her lip, nodding as she pointedly turned her head away from her wife. Sevika, to her credit, said nothing. The day passed uneventfully, dinner was ordered in, Cookie was walked twice more (with Mel sneaking in two more sessions to herself when Sevika left the house), and sleep came easily.

Well, sleep came easily for Sevika, who started sleeping like a log once the Melatonin gummies worked their way through her system. Mel, on the other hand, stared up at the ceiling fan, cheeks burning.

Despite having a whole day off to get used to her wife’s new sound, Mel was still wound up. It was like the second Sevika spoke, the older woman uttered the dirtiest possible sentence, even when it was something normal. And Mel knew her wife didn’t do it on purpose, but it still set every part of her on fire.

This was going to be a problem.