AN: Hey. This is an idea I had that I wanted to write quickly. It's, um…futa. Which is something I've never written before. For those that don't know, futa is a Japanese term for girlpeen, which is a fanfiction term used to denote a female character with a penis.
Before anything, though, I should mention that I'm not a huge fan of futa. The original idea was Bella as a regular woman, but then I thought about it, and I realized there's a strange synergy between transsexualism and the themes I'll be exploring in this story, ie; vanity (the desire to be beautiful) and transformation (male to female, human to vampire). So I decided to give futa a shot, and I think it's worked out pretty well.
So I guess that's the first warning. Bella isn't a hermaphrodite, or a she-wolf with a penis. She's transsexual. I'm not sure how common that is in futa (I never really read any aside from It Won't Rain), but I like to mingle a bit of realism with my vampires.
Speaking of vampires, these ones are AU. I dislike canon vampires (imagine eating a cold pussy, for god's sake), so I've used a more traditional ruleset in this story. Like I said, I enjoy that faint flavour of realism. I hate special powers and I absolutely can't stand when vampires move at the speed of light. Not only is it stupid and unnecessary, but the actual physics of the event would fuck up the particles in the object's path to the point of nuclear fusion and an explosion more powerful than an atomic fucking bomb. It was dumb as shit in Superman and it's even worse for vampires.
Anyway, sorry for rambling. Bottom line, these vampires are AU. ;)
As for other warnings, I'm not sure. This first chapter is pretty innocent, but if the story continues I honestly have no idea how hardcore it might get. The primary pairing will be Bellice, but there will be poly as well, or at the very least there will be group sex. That's another reason why I thought it would be unique for Bella to be a transsexual. One of the key dynamics of this story is to glorify/fetishize lesbianism, so I thought it would be fun to filter it through a POV with a penis, someone who's not quite female and not quite lesbian, but close enough for comfort. An outsider looking in, so to speak.
Anyway, I think that covers everything. And if you're following my other story, let me apologize for the delay quickly. I had this in my head and I just had to get it down. Anyway, hope you like it.
The bar was called Sapphire Shadows. I had heard about it from some chick in my support group. She said it had the hottest chicks in town and she wasn't wrong. I took a cab and the first thing I saw was two chicks making out against the bricks beside the door, both blonde, both in cocktail dresses, both sexy as fuck. I took one glance at them and I was so scared I almost jumped back into the cab. But the cab was already driving away and I was left there to take a breath and pull myself together.
Relax, Bella. You're only here to have a drink.
The reminder made me feel a little better, but it didn't change the fact I had a penis under my dress and no real business in a lesbian bar. Especially not one like this. It was an underground kind of place, according to my friend. They didn't even have a website. Even the exterior was remarkably low key. Just raw brick and a door. There was no neon sign or anything like that, and aside from the couple making out and a few other women in heels drifting by on the sidewalk, there was no hint at all of what you might find beyond that door.
It was a hookup spot, my friend said, a place where you walk in looking sexy and go home again with someone even sexier. I had my doubts if the clientele were really as hot and loose as she claimed, but none of that applied to me anyway. No one would be going home with me. Which was a shame, because I was actually really hot. I'd been sculpting my body for years with surgery and hormone therapy—not to mention a dedicated pilates regimen—and I finally had it shaped as close to perfect as I could get. My boobs were huge, my legs were long and sexy, my ass was spectacular. Pretty eyes, pretty nosejob. Everything perfect—aside from that pesky little thing between my legs.
But I tried not to think about that. Because in a couple years that would be gone too, lopped off by some unlucky surgeon and tossed away into a pile of medical waste like any other malignant growth, gone forever and leaving me sleek and streamlined and strictly female.
I took another deep breath, inhaling the night air, and smoothed my dress against my hips, quietly building my confidence. It was a black dress, a little black dress, and I was thrilled to finally wear it. Thrilled and frightened and insanely self-conscious. It was tight and it barely covered my ass, and together with my long dark hair and pale skin—it was hard to believe how insecure I was.
Okay, just calm down. Nobody knows what you really are and nobody is gonna be looking under your dress. Just relax and have a drink, okay?
I nodded, agreeing with myself. Then I adjusted my purse and stepped up to the door, my heels clicking on the sidewalk, my heart hammering. The two blondes were still making out and they broke apart briefly as I opened the door. They glanced at me once, a cool glance of appraisal, and then went back to each other's mouths. I thought I caught a glimpse of some rather pointy teeth, but I wasn't sure. I gulped, staring for a second, and then I walked in and let the door swing closed behind me.
Already I could hear music. I was going down a short flight of concrete steps and at the bottom there was a bouncer, a tanned and tattooed brunette with Native American features, dressed in black jeans and a black tanktop. She gave me a look, a slow sweep of her dark eyes, and smirked.
"Private bar, honey," she said. "You got a token?"
I was already rummaging in my purse. "Um, yes, just a second." I was almost worried I'd lost it or forgotten to bring it, but then I found it, a small metallic disc like a coin, stamped with the initials SS. "Um, here," I said. "My friend let me borrow it. She said it would be okay."
The bouncer took the token, inspected it, and seemed satisfied. "Usually we're members only," she said, raking her eyes over my dress. "But for you I'll make an exception. Enjoy your evening."
She handed back the token and I did a quick double take at her smirk. Two of her teeth, her canines, appeared to be longer and sharper than normal, kind of like vampire fangs. It seemed a little odd, but I guess that was fashion to some people. I put the token back in my purse and gave her a nod.
"Thanks," I said.
The interior was dark and there was a rich tang of alcohol and perfume in the air. I wandered in with a sense of almost religious wonder, my mouth open slightly, gazing about. The place was packed with some of the hottest women I'd ever seen anywhere. Chicks on the dancefloor moving to a soundtrack of pulsating techno-pop. Couples at tables in close conversation beneath framed portraits of black and white erotica on the walls.
The bar was glass brick and back lit in violet neon and the shelves of bottles behind it glowed a poisonous purple. The bar itself was crowded with women in cocktail dresses and high heels, chatting or bobbing to the music. A lump was forming in my throat and I swallowed it away as I went over and sidled in among them.
There were two bartenders behind the bar and neither really looked old enough to drink. They looked fresh out of highschool and they were dressed similar to the bouncer, black jeans and black croptops. One of them had long blonde hair, straight and shiny, and the other had black hair which she wore in an extremely short pixie-cut. She was serving some customer with a smile and then she looked over and saw me standing there, all shy with my purse, waiting to be noticed. Her face was indescribably cute, even cuter than mine and mine was hand-crafted by professionals. She smiled at me—or smirked—and tossed her chin.
"Hey," she called loudly over the noise of music and conversation. "What can I get you?"
I looked at the exotic range of bottles clustered on the shelves, already lost. To be honest, I didn't even drink that much. The bartender was looking at me and I wound up saying, "Um, just a beer, thank you."
"Oh, any kind."
"You got it," she said. "One beer, coming up."
The beertap was partway down the bar. I watched her draw off a large glass stein, my eyes flickering over her body. Part of her midriff was exposed and she had cute abs. Not to mention a tight ass and nice tits. A different body type the mine—smaller, more petite—but still amazing. She caught me looking and smirked. Then she came over with the beer and placed it on top of an onyx coaster.
"Here you go," she said. "One beer."
"Thanks," I said, unsnapping my purse. "How much?"
The woman didn't reply right away and I looked up to see her smiling and checking me out. Like the bouncer, she appeared to be wearing vampire fangs, which, honestly, looked very sexy on her. She tilted her head, her big dark eyes roaming my shoulders and chest, and her smile tilted upward into a smirk.
"For you?" she said. "On the house."
I was surprised. "Why?"
"Because you're hot," she grinned.
My heart flipped and I felt a rush of some emotion I didn't recognize. It was the first time my appearance had been flattered by someone who wasn't male, my mother, or part of my support group. I felt like I had been working my whole life to achieve that compliment and oh I could die.
"Oh," I said, blushing, lifting the beer. "Thanks."
I sipped shyly. She watched me and she seemed to think it was cute. I expected her to go and serve someone else, but she didn't. She looked back down the bar, at where her blonde colleague was busy mixing drinks, and then she turned back to me.
"So," she said. "What's your name?"
My heart did another flip.
She wanted to talk to me?
I hadn't been expecting this. In all honesty, I had expected to be ignored and shunned by the entire premises until I finally crawled away in embarrassment with my tail—and penis—between my legs. Yet here I was, only two minutes inside the door with a free drink and a pretty bartender chatting me up.
"Bella," I said, and I said it with hint of pride. It wasn't the name I was born with, it was the name I'd chosen for myself. It meant beautiful in Italian, the one thing I always wanted to be.
She seemed to like it as well. "Bella," she repeated. "That's a pretty name. I'm Alice. This is my place."
"You own it?"
"Wow," I said, nodding, looking about the dim interior. Two women appeared to be necking aggressively at a booth in the back and the name of the bar was in blue neon across the block wall. Sapphire Shadows. I turned back to the bartender. "I like it," I said. "Cool name."
"Yeah, it's pretty good," she said. "It was one of my sisters who came up with it. I wanted to call it something a little more slutty, like the Rabbit Hole, or the Fox Hole, or the Honey Hole, you know—something with the word Hole in it."
I was nodding and sipping my beer. To be honest, the talk of holes was a little discomforting, as if I was in danger of suddenly blurting out that I didn't, in fact, have a hole, just to keep the conversation going. She noticed my stiltedness and smiled, leaning on the bartop with her elbows, a flirty look in her eyes.
"So, Bella," she said. "Tell me about yourself. What's your deal?"
"Yeah, you know. Orientation. Preferences. I mean, you're obviously new here and you don't look too comfortable. So what's your story? Gay, bi, confused, not really sure?"
My heart was sinking. There was no way to evade the subject like I normally would, and I couldn't tell her the truth. The truth was humiliating, like a really bad joke. I'm a lesbian in a man's body – I mean, eww. Granted, less than ten percent of my body was still male, but it was still pretty pathetic.
She was waiting for a reply and like an idiot I said:
She seemed to understand. She chuckled and unleaned from the bartop. "Ah," she said. "Complicated, huh?"
"No, no, nothing like that."
I shrugged helplessly and looked down. The beer was sitting on the coaster, my hands around it. Moisture had beaded on the glass. My stomach was in knots and the music was pounding in my ears. I looked up again.
The girl was watching me, waiting, and she really did seem like a nice kind of person. You could see it in her eyes, big and brown and filled with friendliness. I decided to tell her the truth. After all, it was a gay bar. We're all LGBT here, right?
I shrugged again and turned the handle of the stein to the other side, just to procrastinate. "Well, to be honest," I said. "I'm transsexual. Almost."
She seemed surprised—and somewhat delighted. Her eyebrows shot up prettily and she looked me over anew, a slow smile spreading across her lips.
"Almost, huh? Does that mean you still have your, uh…junk?"
I blushed. The mention of it caused a subtle stir between my legs that wasn't quite discomfort. I smiled, my face burning, and nodded silently.
Now she seemed impressed. My dress had a sweetheart neckline and her eyes dwelled on the soft hills of my breasts for a moment before they lifted back to my face.
"Well," she said.
That was all. But the one word was enough, along with the look in her eyes. There was not only acceptance in them, but genuine admiration as well, as if she saw that my hotness wasn't only hotness but something I'd worked for and achieved—which I had.
"I only started the hormone treatments a few years ago," I explained quickly, "but I was pretty dedicated. I had some cash for surgeries, and you know. I was just so tired of being in the wrong body, and I…well, I figured it was time to stop being afraid. Time to, you know. Be myself."
She listened to all this very attentively, with the same expression of understanding and acceptance I often saw from my support group, and when I was done rambling she nodded and grinned and gave my body another slow sweep of her eyes.
"Well, congratulations," she said. "You look fantastic."
The compliment almost made me cry, it felt so good. "Thanks."
"Seriously, you should be very proud," she said. "In fact, this calls for a toast. Hold on a second, I'll be right back."
The woman quickly went off down the bar, serving some customer along the way, and I had to chuckle to myself at how amazingly lucky I was. I knew that I had been over paranoid before I walked in—somehow afraid they might even kick me out—but never in my wildest dreams could I have expected something like this.
I sighed and watched the bartender while she quickly poured a few drinks. She was serving a woman with red hair who was standing sideways at the bar, leaning casually in a red dress and red heels. She was tall, taller than me, and her body was incredible enough to make me jealous and horny at the same time. She noticed me looking and smirked, unleaning from the bar and smoothing her dress against her hips provocatively so I could see. I gulped. Her smile widened at my expression and I noticed two fangs poking her bottom lip. That was three different people so far. Was this also a goth bar or something?
I looked out over the dancefloor, but I wasn't sure. There were lots of chicks in black, but that didn't really mean anything. I was wearing black myself. And weren't goths a little more grungy? I turned back to the redhead, but she had taken her drinks—three different glasses—and now she was sauntering off into the gloom.
The bartender, Alice, was coming back toward me. She had two shot glasses in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other. She was smiling and she set the glasses on the bar in front of me and poured them both full.
"Okay," she said, setting the bottle down and taking up one of the shots. "A toast! To, um…what was your name again?"
I smiled, standing there with my own shot glass. "Bella."
"To Bella!" she said. "It's not easy being yourself sometimes, and it's even harder to do it was style and dignity. So congratulations. You're not only beautiful, but you've got a big set of balls too."
She burst out giggling at the word balls, and I cringed slightly. It was a clever pun, but honestly.
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," she said, waving it away with her free hand. "Seriously, you're brave and beautiful, and that's worth a toast if you ask me. So cheers."
She clinked the glasses together and then threw it back in one gulp. I smiled, glowing inside, and lifted my own glass. I hadn't drank spirits in years, but I drank the whole thing and manfully resisted the urge to cough. My eyes did tear up a little, but that was probably the emotion.
The bartender slammed her glass on the bartop and blew out a breath, giggling. I set my own glass down beside the beer stein, which was mostly still full, and smiled.
"Thanks," I said. "But I'm not sure if I deserve it just yet. It's gonna be a while before I can make the full change. Till then, I guess I just have to wait."
But she shook that off with an exaggerated shake of her head. "Screw waiting, you don't need to be waiting. You know what you need to be doing? You need to be out there meeting people, having sex, breaking hearts. You're young and hot, you need to take advantage of that."
"I don't think anybody would be interested in me like this."
She looked at me as if I was stupid, but in a cute way. "Come on, are you kidding? I can name at least five different chicks off the top of my head who've dated girls like you. There's plenty of chicks out there who would be cool with it."
"You think so?" I asked, only a little skeptical.
"Sure," she said, giving me a huge nod of assurance. Then she chuckled and grinned and added, "Hell, I'd be cool with it."
I raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. "Really?"
"Fuck yes," she said enthusiastically. "Gender isn't about what's between your legs, it's about what's on your chest. And you certainly got that part covered. Hey, wanna buy me a drink? You can't seduce me without buying me a drink. Don't worry, it's on the house."
She was already refilling the shot glasses, but I hadn't answered. I just stood there, smiling, feeling all sexy and womanly. The other bartender, the small blonde, had been noticing what was going on and now she glared at her co-worker while shaking up a martini.
"Yo, Alice!" she called. "Stop handing out free drinks and get your skinny ass back to work!"
The bartender named Alice giggled and screwed the top back onto the Vodka bottle. I smiled.
"I thought you owned the place?" I asked.
"Co-own," she said. "With a couple other chicks."
She took up her glass. I took up mine too. I was a little sad that she couldn't stick around, but it was probably for the best. She seemed like a fairly forward young woman, and I'd probably fall to pieces if she flirted any harder. She was holding her glass and she looked back down the bar before turning back to me.
"Listen," she said. "I gotta get back to work, but I really like you. So I'll tell you what. I keep an apartment upstairs. We close at two AM, so if you wanna stick around…maybe we can have some fun together. What do you think?"
I froze with the glass in my hand. My mouth had fallen open slowly and the shock of her offer was drowning out the music in my ears. She was watching me, waiting with a smile, and—
"Alice!" barked the small blonde. "What'd I tell you?!"
The bartender giggled at her and turned back to me. "Look," she said, "I can tell you're nervous, so why don't you just hang around the bar a bit? We'll chat and get to know each other. Okay?"
"Great," she giggled. "Cheers."
She clinked the glasses together and tossed it back all in one motion. She winked at me with the alcohol in her mouth, smiling, and then she swallowed and took the bottle and moved off down the bar.
I was still standing there with the glass in my hand and my mouth open. Was she suggesting what I thought she was suggesting? She knew what I was and yet she wanted to…?
I couldn't process it right away, so I lifted the shot glass. My limbs were so weird that I almost missed my mouth, but I drank it, swallowed, and set the glass down again.
I spent the rest of the night at the bar in a sort of daze. I already felt drunk but I hadn't even finished my beer. I still couldn't get over it.
She was into me?
I mean, seriously?
Honestly, I had never thought anything like this was possible. I figured I was destined to be alone and malformed right up until I got the final surgery, and even then I figured there would be a lot of people who had a problem with it. I never expected to walk into a bar and be directly propositioned by the sexiest lesbian bartender in the world.
I should've been happy about it, thrilled, elated, spinning like a top. But I wasn't. I was scared out of my gender confused mind, because there was no way I could go through with it. Not only was it impossible for me to take my clothes off in front of anyone, but even if I could somehow struggle through the self-consciousness—what then? Sex? With me? With this thing between my legs?
Just no. Uh uh, no way, fuck that. I thought it was great that she was so sweet and accepting, I really did. But no. There was just no way I could do that to her. I'd rather cut it off myself than inflict it on a girl like her. I mean, goodness gracious. Take my dick and fuck her with it? I ought to slap myself for even considering it. What am I, an animal? No, I'm not—well, not according to my therapist. I'm a woman. And as a woman I have absolutely zero interest in wielding the appendage between my legs in any form or fashion whatsoever.
I watched her moving behind the bar, stepping on her toes to reach the high shelves, her top riding up slightly and revealing her slim waist, a bluish cast to her skin from the neon under the bar, her jeans black and tight around her tiny ass. I licked my lips, my heart racing, and oh god I could just imagine it, unzipping her jeans and pulling them down and pulling down her underwear as well, bending her over and—
Gahhh, shut up!
I tore my eyes away. My heart was throbbing and something else was throbbing as well, something awful. I could feel it under my dress, my tight underwear becoming tighter. Oh god, what was happening to me? I honestly could not recall ever being this turned on in my life. There was something about her, something that I really responded to. I looked at her again. She was grouping some glasses on a tray and she noticed me and gave me a smile and then she swaggered by with the tray toward some tables in the back, swinging her hips attractively because she knew I was watching.
I should've left right then, just walk out or slink away. But I couldn't. For one thing, I was worried there might be a bulge in the front of my dress, so it was probably best to remain facing the bar. The other thing was the temptation. I honestly could not resist it. It scared me and freaked me out and made me want to bashed my head into the bartop to drive it away, but I couldn't deny it.
I wanted her.
By the time she came back the traffic at the bar had slowed enough so that we could chat a little bit. She was very friendly and flirty, really a very unique kind of personality. She basically told me right to my face that she was total slut who would have sex with pretty much anything in a dress—which, she assured me, included myself. I demurred and made shy non-committal responses and soon she was off again to serve more drinks. When she came back we talked about other things and then she was gone again, the blonde bartender yapping at her to get a move on. The blonde then chided me for distracting her so much and when the one named Alice came back she told me the blonde was just jealous.
The hours rolled on and soon the crowd on the dancefloor began to thin. I got approached a couple times by several good looking chicks—and one very handsome butch lady—but I wouldn't let any them buy me drink. I was already slightly drunk and I was about to leave anyway, since obviously I didn't belong here. I sipped my beer. Couples began disappearing, the music slowed. I was still there. Still sipping my beer, still trying to convince myself to leave. I didn't know what was more cowardly, staying or going, but either way it seemed I wasn't going anywhere.
Finally it was closing time. Aside from me the only people left were the staff and a few other chicks who appeared to be close friends. Alice introduced me to some of them quickly. One of them was the redhead I'd been checking out earlier. Her name was Victoria. The blonde bartender was Jane. The sexy Native American bouncer was Leah. There was a blonde named Rosalie and a blonde named Jasmine, and I realized they were the two blondes I had seen making out outside when I first arrived. It was a little awkward, since it was pretty clear I was nothing but a hookup, but none of them seemed to hold it against me. Soon they were saying goodnight. Alice kissed them each on the lips, like lovers, and I tried not to stare at how hot it was.
Then we were going upstairs, a small spiral staircase at the rear of the premises, like ascending into a tower or a dungeon. I think I was still somewhat in shock or denial. Even as I followed her up the stairs I was still trying to convince myself to flee as fast as my feeble legs and high heels would carry me.
The stairs opened directly into a loft which looked like the kind of apartment you'd see on TV, usually belonging to a single woman who's too cute to be a good housekeeper. There was lots of color and lots of randomness, a blue sofa, a purple beanbag, books and magazines on the floor and coffeetable, a pot of fake flowers, a bicycle hanging like an ornament from a wall of cream-colored brick.
She led me through the living space and into a bedroom that looked like the bedroom of a teenage girl. The closet doors were open, revealing an array of colorful clothes, and there were clothes everywhere else as well, hanging from a coatrack and from behind a deskchair, littering the floor. Several of the dresser drawers were open and the surface was littered with makeup and other cosmetics. The bed looked big and comfy and it had two pillows, one blue, one red, and the sheets were yellow and the quilt cover was green. The room smelt clean and fragrant, a nice contrast to the messiness, and I stood there with a smile, looking about.
"Wow," I said. "Nice place."
The girl was kicking off her boots and she waved away the comment. "Oh, it's just a fuckpad," she said. "I don't actually live here."
"Yeah, it's just a bedroom and bathroom and the kitchen through there, but it's handy to have."
I nodded, as if all that was very interesting. She left her boots laying on the carpet and she looked at me where I was lingering shyly in the doorway, standing there in my dress like a virgin on prom night. She even chuckled.
"You okay?" she asked. "You look nervous."
I wandered into the room slightly, holding my purse in both hands. "Well, it's just…I've never…"
"Never been…with a girl."
I had never really admitted it to a stranger, either. Happily, she didn't laugh at me. She just raised her eyebrows and smiled.
"Wow," she said. "Really? Not even when you were…?"
She let the question trail off, and I was thankful for that. I was always a little effeminate, even back then, but I still hated to be reminded of it. Flat chest, no hips, hair on my arms like a damn ape. Just remembering made me shiver. I hesitated a bit, but she was waiting for an explanation, so I gave a little shrug.
"Girls were never really interested," I said. "I was very, um…girly? They didn't really like that. It never felt right, anyway. You know, when I was a guy. Even now, I'm not sure if I…"
I gestured at her. As if she was a difficulty to me. She had her hands on her hips and she grinned broadly.
"Well, it's any consolation, it'll be my first time too," she said. "You know, with a penis. A real one, anyway."
I felt a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach.
She nodded excitedly, obviously not really thinking it was a big deal. "Yep," she giggled. "I've always been strictly chickie, but I don't know. I'm getting some really strong vibes from you. I mean, I look at you and I'm like, grrr, I just wanna fuck you to pieces. You know what I mean? Besides, it's not like I haven't fucked a girl with a package, even if the package was plastic. I mean, you're still a chick."
"Oh, I don't know," I said, verging on panic. "I'm not sure, I mean—maybe we should call this off. I don't want to make you uncomfortable, and…"
But she only laughed. "Oh no you don't," she said, then she scooted past me and closed the bedroom door with a soft click, giggling cheekily. "It's too late to back out now. I put at least eighty dollars' worth of drinks in you and I insist on getting my money's worth. Okay?"
She had put her hands on my waist and she was smiling up at me. She was at least a few inches shorter than me, although she was only wearing socks and I was still in my heels. I could feel her touch through the thin silk of my dress and her hands seemed to be electrified. It was all I could do not to squeal and fling myself against the door in a blind hysteria of girl-panic.
She giggled again and unhanded me. "You just need to loosen up a little, that's all," she said. "So just relax, okay? It'll be fun, trust me."
As she spoke she was drifting toward the other door in the room, the one that led into the bathroom.
"Listen, I'm gonna hop in the shower quickly," she said. "I've been working all day. I'll only be a minute. Feel free to snoop around, okay?"
Then she was gone, disappearing into the bathroom. The door swung closed behind her, but not all the way. She left it open a crack, not enough to see in, but enough to demonstrate a fairly lax attitude toward her personal privacy. It was silent for a minute and then the shower turned on.
And I stood there. I was holding my purse in both hands and I was looking about like a cat who had wandered into the wrong home. The girl's boots were still lying on the carpet where she left them, kicked carelessly aside at the foot the dresser. There was a bra hanging from one of the open drawers and in the mirror I saw myself, standing there in my little black dress, my high heels, my long dark hair that cascaded over my creamy shoulders. I certainly looked like a woman.
So why the fuck did I feel more like a man right now than I ever had in my life?
Well, not quite a man. More like a timid little boy. But it was the same thing, the same feeling of wrongness. It didn't feel right to be waiting here, waiting here for this woman to come out the shower, and, and…well, it was still somewhat unthinkable, wasn't it? I really didn't understand it. A chick that cute could have any woman she wanted, and yet the one she wanted was…me?
I mean, seriously? She couldn't at least pick a girl who had all the correct ladyparts?
And it wasn't not like she didn't know what I was. She knew what I was and what I was hiding under my skirt. So why, why was I here? Here in this cute little bedroom—or fuckpad, as she called it. Did she really intend to have sex with me? I wracked my brain for a few minutes, but I couldn't think of any way that I might've misinterpreted what was going on. She said she wanted to have some fun and she probably didn't mean a spirited game of Monopoly. Which was a shame, because I probably would've preferred it. I would've preferred anything to what she actually wanted. Part of me was even hoping that this whole seduction attempt was some elaborate practical joke designed to get my clothes off so that she could mock me and send me away in humiliation. But she didn't appear to be an evil bitch, just a little slutty. God, why are girls so forward these days? Whatever happened to getting to know each other first?
I shook my head, the shower still running in the background. I looked at the door, wondering if I should just get out of here. This was obviously a mistake. I wasn't ready. There was no way I could do this, no matter how hot and cute and completely desirable she was. She was a lesbian, for god's sake. And not just any lesbian, but gold star. That's basically what she was saying. She had never been with a man in her life, so how could she want to be with me? She was obviously pretty laidback and open-minded, but still. I wasn't sure if sleeping with me would demote her to silver star, but was it really worth the risk? Could I really do that to her? Gold star lesbians were my idols. The untouched few, the pure, the proud. I envied their complete detachment from men, their unsullied sexiness. I don't judge, of course—and I certainly wouldn't fetishize—but there was something about the principle, the ideal, that filled me with reverence and respect and…and…just really turned me the fuck on.
And that was the problem, really. I was conflicted. I wanted her so badly, but no, NO. No, Bella, don't even think about it. Put that penis away, you naughty girl, and—
The shower turned off.
It had only been about ten minutes and I was still standing in the exact same place as where she left, just within the door, still holding the purse in both hands. I panicked all over again at the sudden silence and it was now or never. I had to make a decision. Stay or flee? I wanted to flee so badly, but it seemed like my heels had somehow rooted into the carpet. I had only a couple minutes before she was done in the bathroom and—
The bathroom door swung open.
She had a towel, but it wasn't wrapped around her body. It was on her head and she was tousling her hair dry as she walked into the room completely naked, her plump little breasts jiggling from the movement, her legs long and slim, her waist trim and tapered. Her body was incredible, almost supernaturally perfect, caught somewhere between girl and woman, like a pixie or a nymph.
I was staring at her open mouthed and slowly I lowered my purse to the front of my crotch.
She giggled at my expression and tossed her head toward the bathroom where the light was still on and steam swirled in the doorway. "Shower's free if you want to use it," she said. "I just need a few minutes to get ready. There's towels in the cabinet. Don't be too long, okay?"
I gave a jerky nod, moving wide around her naked and beautiful body, and ducked inside the bathroom.
I shut the door behind me, fully closed, and stood there breathing in the steam, my mind blank, my heart racing. I looked down at the front of my dress and almost cried. A bulge there, very small, but noticeable. I tried to push it back down, but touching it only made it worse.
I put my purse on the counter beside the sink and looked into the mirror tragically, my reflection blurred by the steam on the glass. I shook my head and looked about. White tile, slate floor, a pair of black jeans kicked into a corner. The shower was a glass cubicle, the walls wet, a scent of soap in the air. There was a high window over the toilet, but it didn't look large enough to climb out of. I was a slim girl, but you'd have to be a ferret to fit through that. Which meant only one thing.
I was trapped.
I shook my head and made a sound which was almost a sob. I was stupid. I could've left at any time, and now I was well and truly trapped. I had reached the point of no return and from here there would be no escape—only embarrassment and humiliation.
But at least the fear had did away with the bulge. It was safe as it was ever going to be to take off my dress, so I did, unzipping it carefully and pushing it down my body, careful not to get it wet from the water the girl had dripped onto the tiles. It one of my favorite possessions, this dress, and I folded it carefully and set it beside my purse. Then I removed my jewelry, a couple rings and a necklace, and put them in the purse. Then my underwear. My bra was a strapless pushup and I felt flush of pride as my breasts bounced free. They were possibly my best features, and they ought to be—I paid enough for the bastards. Between the cost of hormone therapy and implants, I could've put myself through college. A more responsible individual might've opted for education, but I felt tits were more important.
Next was my panties, which was a little trickier. I had never felt entirely comfortable in women's underwear, and not only because I required a little more room than most designers accounted for. It was just awkward, fitting that awful bulge into these skimpy scraps of silk and lace. I longed for the day when I could finally fit into these things properly.
The only thing worse than wearing them was taking them off, but I did. I took them off and avoided looking at what they revealed, and then I tucked both my panties and my bra into my purse, like a tidy little slut.
Then I turned on the shower and stepped inside, wetting my hair and my body, desperately trying to fight away any impure thoughts. I washed myself with a pink bar of soap, my skin sensitive and electrified, my body trembling. This was so wrong, so very wrong. It felt wrong even to use her shower, like desecrating some holy place. The flow of water I stood under had probably only ever been graced by the bodies of females, not any abominations like me. I shook my head, washing myself. I just hoped I wouldn't make her uncomfortable. She seemed to be excited about the whole thing, but that could change in an instant. And if it did, she didn't have to worry. I'd understand completely.
When I was done in the shower I found a towel in one of the cabinets and quickly patted myself dry. I didn't know how long I'd already been, but I wanted to hurry. Not because I was eager, but because I didn't want to keep her waiting. I didn't know if I was supposed to put my dress back on, but considering how she had reappeared in the bedroom I figured not. Instead I wrapped the towel around my torso, almost like a dress itself. Clothed in white like a virgin, how appropriate.
Lastly I looked in the mirror and evaluated my final appearance, fluffing out my wet and tangled hair. All my makeup was gone, but I looked okay. Smooth complexion, fine cheekbones, delicate jawline, big dark eyes with nice lashes. I nodded at myself a couple times and then I turned to the door, took a deep breath, cinched up the towel around my chest, and went out.
Where I almost fainted.
The girl had put some clothes on, but nothing that concealed much. She had changed into a set of black lace lingerie, a matching pair of bra and panties. She had also donned a pair of black spike heels and she was currently bent slightly to the mirror of the dresser where she was applying some bright red lipstick to her lips. The rest of her face was already dusted with makeup, blush and eyeshadow, and she smiled when she saw me in the mirror. Her panties were a g-string and her ass was incredible. My mouth was open and I even rocked back on my heels as powerful waves of lust rolled over me.
I wasn't even aware I'd said it out loud. She giggled and capped the lipstick.
"Hey there," she said. "You're just in time, I just finished."
She tossed the tube of lipstick into the clutter of cosmetics already on the dresser and then spun around in her lingerie, twirling on the spot like a ballerina in heels.
"Well, what do you think?" she asked brightly. "Hope you don't mind. It makes me feel sexy."
I tried to swallow. I couldn't really do it.
"W-wow," I choked out.
Her bra was a pushup with a purple bow between her bunched up breasts. The waist band of her thong hooped around her hips and descended into a tiny triangle of black see-through lace that was flat against her crotch in a way that made me yearn with envy.
"Thanks," she giggled. Then she spun back around and snagged up a cardboard box from the dresser. "And hey, look what I found."
She shook the box cheekily. The contents rattled inside and my heart seemed to fall out of my chest and plop onto the floor.
It was condoms.
"I almost forgot I had any," she went on. "Some girls like to use them on sextoys, it's safer that way. You can even cut them open and use them for oral. I've got dental dams as well, but they wouldn't really work on your, uh…"
She was gesturing at my hips and she trailed off, noticing something in the front of my towel. I looked down and noticed it too.
I froze, absolutely still. If I could've forced myself to die right then, I would've. The girl giggled.
"You're pitching a bit of a tent there, aren't you?"
A hot blush engulfed my face and I was standing there with no idea what to do with my hands. I wanted to cover it up, hide it somehow, but I was afraid to even move. I didn't even know what to look at—her? At her sexy body in her sexy lingerie? That wouldn't make the problem go away.
She giggled at my expression and tilted her hip, standing there with a certain cockiness, a box of condoms in her hand and a smile on her face. It was an extremely sexy look with those fake vampire fangs in her mouth.
"It's okay," she said, "don't be embarrassed. Show me."
I stared at her. "Huh?"
"Show me," she repeated, smirking, a daring glint in her eye. "I wanna see it."
"Oh god," I practically moaned. "Are you sure?"
She laughed and waved a hand, as if she thought it would calm me. "Yeah, come on," she encouraged. "Don't worry, I won't laugh."
I was shaking my head and loosening the towel. Very slowly. I could see the bulge down there and I could feel it, half restrained by the towel but craving to come out. The fucking thing obviously had a mind of its own, because the rest of me was terrified. But it was too late to back out now. The towel was loose and—
I dropped it.
The exposure swept over me in a cold wave of excitement and made me even harder, even my nipples. My penis was horizontal to the floor, pointing up slightly, and my nipples felt like they had crystalized on my breasts. In all honesty, it wasn't a particularly offensive appendage. I kept myself well-waxed so there was no nasty hair or anything like that. But still.
The girl was staring at it and despite her boldness she seemed suddenly surprised. She had covered her mouth with a hand and I was pretty sure she was grinning behind it. Her eyes were wide and bright and suddenly she burst out laughing, uncontrollably and trying to smoother it with her hand.
"Oh my god," she giggled. "Is that it?"
She took her hand away from her mouth and pointed at it questioningly. As if wondering if there was supposed to be more. I was well aware that it wasn't a particularly large penis, and I couldn't help being slightly miffed, even though I had never wanted a penis at all, let alone a large one. It was still normal size, I didn't know what was so funny about it.
"You said you wouldn't laugh," I said, standing there awkwardly.
She tried to wipe away her grin, but she couldn't do it. She bit her lip to keep from giggling and she was shaking her head quickly as if to shake away the hilarity.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she was saying. "No, no, really. I didn't mean to laugh. Actually, it's cute. It's, um…"
Her eyes were glued to it and suddenly she burst out laughing again, even harder this time, doubling over and guffawing into the box of condoms in her hands.
I couldn't help it; I giggled too.
Just a small titter. I mean, what else could I do? I was standing here in some woman's apartment, naked, penis in the air, and honestly? I'd laugh at the stupid thing too.
"I know," I said, agreeing with her amusement. "It's horrible, isn't it? I can't wait till I can finally get the surgery. I hate having this thing, I feel like such a freak."
She calmed down at the word freak, but her eyes were still really bright. "Aww, come on," she said, "you're not a freak, don't even think that. Really, it's not even that bad. I kind of like it. It's like a strap-on, only…smaller!"
The last word came out in a sudden bray of laughter, and she laughed so hard she had to lean on the dresser to keep from falling over. I put a hand on my hip and sighed.
"Maybe I should just put my clothes back on," I said.
I even inched backward a little bit, but she quickly straightened up and shook her head, wiping the tears from her eyes with her hands.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she said. "I'll stop laughing."
This time she sounded like she actually meant it. She put the box down and came over to me, still smiling but softer now. She let her eyes rake over my body and she put her hands on my hips delicately. My skin crackled under her fingers and my penis lifted a little, as if it was straining for her. She noticed how it went harder at her proximity and she smiled, lifting her eyes back to my face.
"Seriously, though," she said. "You're beautiful."
I smiled shyly. "Thanks."
My nipples were tingling and she lowered her eyes to them as if she noticed. She lifted her hands, trailing her fingertips against the sides of my waist, and then she put her hands on my breasts. My breathing almost stopped. The breaths twitched in and out, short and shallow. Her hands were so warm on my cold skin and they were so small they barely even covered the globes. She stroked them gently, smiling. She flicked my nipples with her thumbs. I flinched and hitched in a breath. She giggled.
"Especially these," she said. "Hm?"
I couldn't answer. I couldn't hardly breathe. She smirked and squeezed them, massaging them softly, watching my face. No one had ever touched them before. It felt amazing, but I couldn't help worrying if she was turned off by the implants. She lowered her eyes to the mounds in her hands, smiling and lifting them slightly and bunching them together and letting them lax again.
"Mmm," she said, as if they looked delicious. "You've got nothing to be self-conscious about here, do you?"
I gulped. "They're fake," I admitted.
She smiled and gave them a playful squeeze. "You're a bit insecure, aren't you?"
I chuckled once, almost bitterly. My penis was throbbing and pointing at her ungainly. "Wouldn't you be if you were born in the wrong body?"
Her smile softened a little and she continued to massage my breasts. "I know what you mean," she said, "but let's not think about that tonight. Tonight you're not a man or a woman or a freak or anything like that. You're a just a slut who went upstairs with some random stranger you don't even know. Okay?"
I nodded. I liked the way she said it, and I loved how she was stroking my breasts. It was the best thing I had ever felt. I never thought such a simple touch could feel so good. She stroked them a bit more and then she lowered her hands, smiling, and took one of my hands in hers.
"Come on," she said. "Let's sit down."
She led me to the bed and I sat on the edge, knees together, all prim and proper—aside from that thing poking up from my lap. She sat beside me and wrapped an arm around me. I seemed to get even harder at the closeness and I felt like I was going to come any second. My skin was trembling under her touch and she lifted her other hand to stroke my cheek, gazing into my eyes to let me know it was alright.
"Just relax," she said. "I'll be gentle, okay?"
She said it with a smile and my eyes flickered over her vampire fangs.
"What about your teeth?" I asked.
"What about them?"
"Are you going to take them off?"
"Oh, they're not fake," she said, and then she put her thumb and forefinger in her mouth and tugged at one of the fangs to show me. "See?"
"You actually got caps like that?"
She gave a soft chuckle and wrapped her other arm around my neck, both of them around me now. "Something like that," she said. "I have a bit of a vampire fetish." She leaned in closer, letting our breasts brush, our lips only inches away. "But don't worry," she whispered, her eyes dark and hungry. "I won't bite."
Her lips fell onto mine and my eyes fell shut. She made a little moan and tightened her arms around my neck, already deepening the kiss.
Her tongue came in and her tongue was just like the rest of her, bold, brazen, slightly slutty. It was actually my first ever kiss with a girl and she succeeded in blowing away every expectation I ever had of how it would be. And she probably wasn't even trying. To her, I was just a one night stand, some half-chick she picked up at the bar, probably just to see what it would be like. This was probably just a normal night to her. But to me, it wasn't just a one night stand. It was a major event in my life, something I'd probably remember forever.
I had been prepared to remain a virgin until after the final surgery, when my real life—as a woman—began, but tonight…just tonight, I would have to make an exception. I still wasn't comfortable with what was going to happen, but at this point I was powerless to resist. She was too cute, too aggressive, too goddamn sexy. I moaned and let her deepen the kiss even further, letting her tongue all the way into my mouth. I didn't care. I wanted her to do anything she wanted to me.
My hands had moved to her waist, but that was all I dared to touch. She was so slight, so small. Her skin was cool and smooth and freshly showered. Her own hands were far more adventurous and soon they were roaming. One of them had started in my hair, caressing the nape of my neck, and now it moved down to my chest and started groping my tits, one of them in particular, taking a huge handful of the sensitive mound and squeezing it, massaging it, squeezing again. I loved it. It made feel me sexy and desirable in a way I had never felt before.
The only thing that spoiled it was how my penis responded. It was throbbing pretty bad by now and I wished it would just go away. It cheapened the whole thing, getting so stiff like that.
Unfortunately, the girl didn't seem to agree. Her hand had abandoned my breast and it was traveling lower into my lap. My heart stopped and I almost squirmed away to keep the vile thing from falling into her innocent grasp. But I didn't. Her fingers closed around my hard shaft and her lips, which were mashed against mine, seemed to move like a smile. She moaned hungrily, still making out with my mouth, and then she tightened her grip on the penis she was holding, squeezing it as if to see how hard it was. It was rock solid. I whimpered into her mouth and she jerked down on it, once, and—
"Oh god, oh god, oh god—!"
I had wrenched my face away from the kiss and tried to hold it back with all my might, but it was no use. She had even let go and threw up her hands anxiously, but that didn't stop it either. The orgasm came blindingly fast and blindingly hot and a strange meep came out of me as my penis twitched and a long squirt of semen flew out across the room and landed on the carpet.
I sat there rigid and frozen, my face a mask of mortification and my wrists at shoulder level in fear like a girl who spotted a spider. It was dead silent in the room aside from my breath which rasped in and out shallowly, as if I was hyperventilating. The girl was looking at that sad white stain in the carpet and then she scratched her head, as if she was puzzled, and turned to me.
"Um," she said. "Did you just come?"
I sprang to my feet and ran into the bathroom.
I didn't burst into tears, but it was close. Instead I just shut the door and whimpered and looked about in a panic before tearing some toilet paper off the roll and cleaning myself up, dabbing at my—thing—and wishing I would just die.
There was a soft knocking at the door and the girl spoke through it.
"Hey," she said. "Hey, what's wrong?"
I sobbed and threw the paper in the toilet and flushed it down and then I covered my burning face with my hands and sobbed again. "Oh my god, I'm so embarrassed," I said out loud.
I didn't know if she would hear me, but she did. "Aww, come on, don't be embarrassed," she said through the door. "I thought it was cute. And it's not like you can't come again, right? Look, just come on out. You're not gonna leave me unsatisfied are you? Come on, I'm horny. Pleeeease?"
I hesitated. I was looking at my dress, folded there on the counter. I could've just thrown it on and ran away as fast as I could go, but—
"Please?" the girl said again, softer this time. "Seriously, it's nothing to freak out about. Just come out, okay?"
I took a deep breath, but what could I do? The girl was being a complete angel, and deep down I knew I was only embarrassing myself further by locking myself up in the bathroom.
I turned and opened the door.
The girl smiled to see me emerge, cautiously like a frightened rabbit, and the smile made me feel even more ashamed. She deserved a far better hookup than a mess like me.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm just so…"
I looked down at my thing and then gestured with a hand helplessly.
"Maybe I should just go home," I said. "I'm useless like this, I can even…"
I trailed off, unable to look at her. She tilted her head, smiling, clad in her sexy black lingerie.
"Well, you're not a prisoner," she said. "But you know what I think? I think you should stay. You'll be fine once you loosen up. And besides…"
Her smile tilted into her smirk and she let her eyes flicker down over my penis—which was still erect. Her eyeshadow was a sexy shade of purple and the eye contact seemed to perk it up a little more. She had her arms folded under the lacy black cups of her bra and she said:
"…you're still kind of hard, aren't you?"
It was true, I couldn't deny it. I even smiled a little. She giggled and walked backwards into the room, balancing expertly in her heels.
"Come on," she said, "let's get a condom on you before you have another accident." She snatched up the box of condoms and chuckled at the stain on the carpet. It was at least five feet from the bed. Any further and it would've spattered on the dresser. "You really got some range on that thing, didn't you?"
"I'm so sorry," I said, shaking my head at the awful stain. "I can't believe I did that, I…"
She could see me starting to panic again and she quickly grabbed up a shirt that was lying there. "It's fine, it's fine," she said, and then she bend over—in her sexy black g-string—and wiped up the mess with the shirt. "See? All cleaned up."
I nodded, but I still felt awful. Now I had not only befouled her carpet but one of her shirts as well. I would've burnt the soiled garment, but she only threw it across the room and into the hamper. Then she flipped open the box of condoms and rummaged inside.
"Now, let's see, what color should we use," she said. "I know—how about pink? Pink sounds nice." She pulled out a small packet and tossed the box back onto the dresser. Then she sauntered toward me sexily in her heels, tearing open the packet with her fingers. "A pretty condom for a pretty lady, hm?"
I blushed. Somehow I felt a tad emasculated, which made me feel a tad confused as well. She had let the torn packet fall to the floor and in her hands she was holding a little pink disk.
"Here, let me put it on," she said.
And before I had time to panic or jump out a window, she squatted on her heels—knees open like a stripper in her black underwear—and began threading the condom onto my penis.
I felt like I was going to come again as soon as she touched me, but I didn't. It probably wasn't physically possible so soon. I wasn't even fully hard yet, just mostly hard. Although the touch of her fingertips certainly stiffened it up. I was watching her as she did it and she was watching my penis, smiling curiously as if she had never seen one up close before—which she hadn't. It still seemed to amuse her a little. She pushed the slick pink sheath along my shaft, right down to the base, and she giggled and leaned forward and placed a tiny kiss on the tip.
"There," she said. "Pretty little penis."
The kiss was probably designed to make me feel more comfortable, but instead it almost killed me. Luckily, that's all she did. She rose to her feet, more graceful than a plié, and put her hands at my hips.
"And since you already came," she said, "I guess I don't have to be so gentle anymore, do I?"
And before I could even process what that meant, she giggled, grabbed me by the shoulders, and threw me sideways onto the bed.
She was startlingly strong for such a small girl and I squealed as I bounced on the mattress, landing on my hip, both my breasts and my penis bouncing deliciously. I rolled onto my back and I felt a huge jolt of excitement as she pounced on top of me. I giggled and squirmed a little, but she covered me with her body and caught my eyes with her own. I smiled up at her, blushing, my heart racing with helpless excitement.
Oh yes. Take my body, you sexy beast.
She grinned at me, practically growing like a tigress, and then she mashed her lips onto mine.
I moaned with pleasure and my arms went around her automatically. God, she was good at this. She must have a ton of experience. I was still half hanging off the bed and we were squirming backwards together into the center of the mattress, the kiss not broken for an instant. She was grinding her chest into mine, mashing our tits together, and her tongue was parading around my mouth. I tried to kiss her back, but it was hard to keep up. My tongue scraped against her pointy teeth and I kind of liked it. She had grabbed one of my boobs and she was groping it roughly, and I kind of liked that too.
She was straddling my hips and the tip of my penis poked her pussy. She gave a jolt and suddenly she thrust down with her hips, grinding the shaft with the front of her panties. She liked it so much she broke the kiss to moan, smiling down at me with her fangs like a lusty vampiress. She rubbed down again, making me quiver, and she seemed to like my expression. She leaned down and licked my lips and kissed them and chuckled into them.
"Mmm," she said. "I love how passive you are. You're like a sex doll or something."
I wasn't sure if that was a compliment, but I was glad to please her. "Um, thanks."
She chuckled again, moving her lips lower onto my neck. She had grabbed two handfuls of my tits and she was groping them roughly while she moved downward on my body and then she placed a long lick on one of my nipples. I shivered. She licked again and sucked at it, squeezing until it almost popped. My penis was poking and bumping into her tummy. She moved to the other breast and began sucking that one instead, the whole nipple engulfed in her hot wet mouth.
I moaned and smiled, enjoying it. She giggled at the moan and raised up, straddling my hips. My nipples were wet and erect. I looked up at her, blinking at how sexy she was. Her face was flushed, her eyes smoky and slightly lidded, her breasts bundled up in her black lace bra. She smiled at me and ran a hand through her short black hair, licking her lips. My penis in its pink sheath was nestled in her crotch and she grinded the front of her panties against it softly, watching me while she did.
"Mmm," she said. "Here, give me your hand."
"Why?" I asked dumbly.
She chuckled at the question and took my hand. "Well, since you're not going to take any initiative," she said, "maybe I ought to take the initiative for you, hm?"
She put the hand on her thigh and stroked it up and down, smiling. I smiled too, my heart fluttering. Her skin was smooth with a slight sheen of sweat. I couldn't believe I was touching a girl. She smiled and leaned forward slightly and moved the hand over her hip and around to her butt.
"How do you like that?" she asked kinkily, groping her own ass with my hand.
I giggled and gave it a squeeze. "I love it."
"I bet you do," she said, and then she grabbed me and rolled over so that she was on her back.
With me on top.
Between her legs.
My penis was cradled in the fork of her legs and I was almost scared to move. She giggled at my face and then she took her bra cups with her hands and pulled them down underneath her breasts, exposing her swollen little nipples.
"And how do you like these?" she asked, toying with them herself.
I was speechless, leaning over her with my mouth open and my hair all to one side like a dark curtain. She giggled and grabbed one of my hands.
"Come on," she said, putting it on her chest, "I can't do all the work for you. Touch me."
I swallowed the lump in my throat and used both hands to touch her. Her breasts were fairly large for her body type and they felt weird under my hands, like smooth little lumps of soft warm dough. So different from my own. I stroked them gently, caressing the outside of her globes, and then I started kneading and massaging them.
"Like this?" I asked.
"Mmm," she purred, arching herself slightly like a cat. "Just like that. What do you think? They're not as big as yours, are they?"
"But at least they're real."
"Fuck real, I'd take big any day."
I didn't know if she was saying that just to be nice or if she really meant it, but it didn't matter. "I think they're beautiful," I said, and then I leaned down and began kissing them.
A couple small kisses on her areola and one on the hard little nub of her nipple. She shivered and then I took it into my mouth and suckled at it, not as hard as she sucked at me, but hard enough for her to feel it. Dimly I was amazed at how much I had loosened up, but breast play seemed relatively innocent. They were amazingly cute little things and all I was doing was showing her how much I liked them with my mouth.
"Mmm," she moaned, her hands threading in my hair. "Oh god, I'm getting so horny. You almost ready down there?"
My heart flip flopped.
But it was too late to back out now, way too late. She had been so sweet with me and I couldn't do that to her. No matter how I felt about it, I had to give her what she wanted. It wasn't my place to judge, anyway. Everybody has their own preferences, and if she wanted to go all the way with a pre-op transsexual, well, that was up to her.
So I lifted my face from her sweet little breasts and nodded timidly.
"I think so," I said.
She grinned and squirmed her legs open a little more. "Then maybe it's time to get you inside me," she said. "What do you think?"
I raised up until I was kneeling between her legs, looking down at her spread body, her boobs pushed up by her dislodged bra, her entrance concealed by only a thin strip of black lace—which appeared to be wet. I stared at it, my stomach lurching, and licked my dry lips.
"I don't know," I said.
"No?" she giggled. "Come here, give me your hand."
I gave her my hand and she put it exactly where I feared.
On her pussy.
It was covered by her panties but I could still feel the wetness of her arousal. It felt sticky on my fingers. She grinned and moved her hips, mashing my hand against herself. She stroked at her panties, hard, and then she smiled and used her other hand to peel the underwear aside, revealing her bald wet womanhood.
My heart stopped and I stared. It was the first time I had seen one up close and I was filled with various sensations, curiosity, envy, longing. Lust.
She smiled at my expression and probed at her slick folds with my own fingers, rubbing me against herself. She was soft, so maddeningly soft. I never imagined it would be so soft. My fingers were slick with moisture and she was guiding them and she was watching the wonder in my face.
"Can you feel that?" she asked. "Can you feel how wet I am?"
My voice came out soft and husky. "Yes," I said.
She grinned and continued to caress herself with my hand, guiding my fingers against her clit. She let her eyes roam my body, as if I was pornographic material she was using to pleasure herself, and then her eyes lowered to my penis—which was stiff and rigid.
"And look at you," she said. "Look how hard you are. Wouldn't you love to just stick that thing inside me? Hm?" She guided my fingers into her folds. "Right inside…here."
My finger was poking into her vagina. I couldn't believe how warm it was. She smiled and gave a quick clench, as if her vagina were nipping at my fingertip.
"Oh god," I said.
"Feels good, huh?"
"Yeah," I breathed, pushing my finger in a little deeper.
She moaned and squirmed a little. "Mmm," she said. "Imagine how good it'll feel to that little thing down there. Come on, stick it in. Don't be afraid, it won't hurt."
I gulped and withdrew my fingers. Looked at her, kneeling there at her entrance. My penis was throbbing painfully.
"Are you sure?" I asked, one final time.
The question made her smile. Laying there with her breasts exposed, the bra crumpled beneath them. Her face flushed. Her legs open and her panties drenched and peeled aside. To answer the question, she didn't need words. She simply reached down with both hands and spread open her pussy.
"Do I look like I'm not sure?"
I blinked at her. She smirked.
"Now hurry up and fuck me," she said.
I nodded jerkily and used my hand to angle the tip of my penis into her exposed entrance. She quivered slightly from just being nudged. The condom was candy pink and that did make me feel a bit better. I pushed it in a little. Maybe it was just like a strap-on.
Although if it was a strap-on it wouldn't feel so fucking warm.
She was so wet and hot she felt like she was melting. I pushed it in a little deeper and whimpered at how her hotness tightened and contracted around me. I went deeper, just a little, and she hissed in a breath.
"Mmm," she moaned. "Yeah. That's it. That's so good."
"Is this okay?" I asked.
"Yes," she hissed, her eyes shut, her flush showing even through her makeup. "Oh god, yes." She opened her eyes and smirked at me. "Come here," she said, and pulled me into a kiss.
I went into it, her arms wrapping around me and pulling me close, moaning into my mouth. I tried to kiss her back, but it was difficult to think with my penis trapped inside that warmth between her legs. My head had completely glazed over and all I could think about was how wonderful she felt.
"Mmm," she moaned, panting now, wrapping her legs around me. "Come on, baby," she said. "Fuck me."
I pushed my hips into her, burying myself in her warmth. "Like this?"
"Exactly like that," she said, moving her hips as I did it again. "Keep going. Nice and slow."
She smiled and moaned as I began to fuck her. I had never done this in my life but it seemed to come somewhat natural, in and out, slowly and gently. I could see how good I was doing by her expression. She was smiling and she really seemed to like it. She started to clench down on me in rhythm and her face was breathtakingly beautiful.
"Ugh," she groaned, her eyes fluttering open. She locked them onto mine and clenched again, deliberately. "Can you feel that?" she asked, and clenched again, harder. "Can you feel me clenching down on you?"
"Yes," I breathed, and suddenly I felt something stirring inside.
It was another orgasm.
I panicked and tried to fight it back, but it just felt so good inside her and the way she clenched on me was incredible. I kept going as if nothing was wrong and she laughed and clenched again.
"That's so wild that you can actually feel it," she said. "This is so good. One thing I always hated about strap-ons is that the other person can't feel it. But this, this is…you okay, baby?"
She had noticed my face crumple up.
I had just come.
The breath I was holding rushed out of me and I whimpered from the effort of failing to hold it back. Waves of pleasure rolled over me, but waves of shame as well. I could feel it fill the condom. She realized what had happened and she laughed, her vagina giving me a cocky clench as if to gloat.
"You just came, didn't you?"
I was nodding miserably, still on top of her, panting like an animal. "I'm sorry," I wheezed. "It's so hot. You're just so fucking amazing."
She giggled and kept her arms around me, tightening the embrace as if she didn't want me to runaway just yet. "That's okay," she said. "Do you think you can keep it up a little more?"
I nodded again, desperate not to disappoint her. My penis had softened slightly, but it was still moderately hard, hard enough for her to feel it inside her—and clench. An encouraging clench this time, almost affectionate.
"Good girl," she said, stroking my back. "Just keep it up and let me do all the work, okay?"
Then she rolled me over onto my back, straddling my penis. She raised up and sat back on it, smiling, her breasts all perky and hiked up under her bra. I was already getting harder, although I didn't think I'd be able to come again. I just hoped she would.
"Mmm," she moaned, sitting back on it. "It won't be long. I feel like I'm about to come right now."
She had her face tilted to the ceiling, relishing the penetration, and now she lowered her eyes and smiled at me. I was laying there, exhausted, my dark hair fanned out under my head, my boobs like pale mounds on my chest.
"Mmm," she moaned. "You really are beautiful."
She had put her hands on my breasts and she was playing with them as she began moving up and down on my penis, bouncing just softly, like a girl on a ride. I looked up and smiled at how her boobs bounced along with her.
"So are you," I said.
I reached for her own breasts and she unhanded mine, holding her wrists out and preening her chest. I took them in my hands and felt them move up and down with the rest of her body, stroking them, squeezing them.
She laughed and started bouncing a little faster, a little harder, with my hands supporting her breasts like a bra. My penis was entirely stiff again and the entire base of it was slathered with her arousal. Each bounce was accompanied by a squelching sound and her breathing was getting rough.
"Oh god," she said. "I think I'm coming. Do you feel that?"
I nodded, assuming she was talking about the tightening of her vagina. She smiled and took my hands off her breasts and pinned them down on the mattress, leaning low across me. She was panting into my mouth and her breasts were swaying just above mine.
"I'm gonna keep going, okay?" she gasped. "What about you? Are you going to come again?"
"I don't know."
She seemed to take this as a challenge and suddenly she began humping me even harder, driving her vagina onto my penis as if she was mad with it and wanted to punish it.
"I'll make you come," she hissed. "You'll come for me, don't worry."
I could already feel it building.
It was amazing. We were panting into each other's mouths, our eyes connected, and she kept fucking me and fucking me and fucking me, up and down, relentlessly spiking herself onto my penis with her hot and sopping vagina. My arms were around her and I was bold enough to reach down and grab her ass, groping it and making her growl, digging my fingers into her buttocks and bucking into her as I pulled her down onto my penis.
"Oh fuck," she hissed at me. "Are you ready? Oh god, I'm so fucking ready."
"Yes," I whimpered. "Yes. I'm ready."
"Ugh," she groaned. "Oh god. Come here. Come here."
She was raising up and she raised me up with her until we were sitting in the bed with her in my lap, sitting directly on top of my penis. She moaned and squirmed on top of me, as if to get comfy, and then she wrapped her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist. Our breasts were mashed together and she had locked her ankles around me as tight as an anaconda. My hair was damp and sticking to my face and her own face was flushed and smeared with makeup as if it had melted. She was bouncing on my penis with her whole body and all her limbs wrapped around me, humping at my lap like some crazed little sex demon. Her eyes were glazed and her mouth was open and her fangs seemed to have grown somehow.
"Oh god," she moaned, her voice high with ecstasy. "Oh god, I'm so sorry. I don't think I can control myself."
I didn't know what she was apologizing about, but it didn't matter. I didn't care about anything anymore, all I cared about was her and how she made me feel.
"It's okay," I gasped. "It's okay."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," I panted. "Yes."
She was still bouncing, faster now, riding my penis like a spirited cowgirl. Her face was crumpling and she seemed to be in pain from how much she liked it. She opened her eyes, her whole body heaving, and then she noticed something in my neck. She stared at it longingly, her fangs protruding from her mouth as the orgasm swept over her face.
"Oh god," she cried. "Oh god, I'm coming! I'm coming! Oh! Oh! OhhhHHH—!"
Her voice rose into a breathless scream and suddenly she swooped at my neck and bit into my flesh like a vampire.
She ignored me and tore into my skin with her fangs as the orgasm took her over, her arms and legs wrapped painfully tight around me. Her vagina was clenching on my penis so viciously it felt like she wanted to break it off and trap it inside her forever and I was still screaming.
"Ahhh, what are you doing?! Get off me!"
It hurt really bad and I was trying to throw her off, but all that did was wriggle her and get my penis inside her deeper. She was sucking at the bite and suddenly I was coming too. I couldn't stop it any more than I could stop the first two. Her vagina was convulsing around me and suddenly it felt like my penis burst inside her. My mind went blank like a bullet to the head and my screams silenced to nothing. I went limp and lolled against her, sweat rolling down my forehead. I seemed to be holding her, but then I began to feel the pain in my neck and I realized she was still sucking at the bite. Drinking my blood like a bat. I groaned in disgust and started pushing at her body.
"Oh god, get off me," I pleaded. "Get off me, get off, get off, GET OFF!"
I gave her a shove with all my strength and finally managed to pry her loose, although maybe she was just finished. Her arms and legs loosened and with a satisfied moan she slid off me and toppled into the mattress.
I whimpered and pushed her off lap, scrambling away and hopping off the bed. But my legs were weak and I actually stumbled into the nightstand, leaning into it to get my balance. My head was spinning and I heard another moan behind me. I looked over my shoulder and I saw the girl laying on her side, curled up with her eyes closed and her black underwear in lewd disarray. Her mouth was covered in blood and she was licking her lips like a well-fed cat.
I turned and ran into the bathroom.
I had no idea what the crazy bitch's deal was, but I wasn't sticking around to find out. I didn't even bother with underwear, I just got rid of the condom—flicking at it with my hand until it peeled off, as if I was afraid to actually touch it—and then I grabbed my dress and wriggled into it. I saw myself in the mirror over the sink and froze with the zip half up. The bite was fairly savage and blood had dripped all the way to my collarbone. I was crying a little bit and I sniffed as I zipped up the dress and stepped into my heels. I wiped my eyes with my hands, tucked my purse under my arm, and then I turned to leave.
The girl was in the doorway.
She wasn't exactly blocking the door, but I was scared to even go near her—even though she didn't look very scary anymore. She was tucking her boobs back into her bra and her expression was regretful. She had wiped her mouth but it was still stained pink.
"Get out of my way," I said firmly.
She moved slightly, but not really to let me pass. "Look, I'm sorry," she said. "That was wrong of me, very wrong. But in a way, it was your own fault. You fucked me so good I couldn't help myself."
She said it with a strained lightheartedness. I didn't even smile.
"I want to go home," I said. "Now."
I was prepared to force my way out, but she sighed and stepped backwards.
"Okay, okay," she said. "Let me get the door for you."
I didn't trust her, but I didn't object. She led me out of the bedroom and out of the apartment. I followed her down the spiral staircase at a safe distance, sniffing occasionally. She kept glancing over her shoulder, as if she wanted to apologize, but she didn't seem to have the words.
She led me back through the main bar area, the tables still littered with bottles and empty glasses. She had mentioned earlier that she had a clean-up crew come by in the mornings. She was wearing nothing but her lingerie and heels, and even after everything that happened I couldn't help admiring her ass and the roll of her hips as she walked.
She led me to the side entrance and started unlocking it slowly. It had three different deadbolts and a chain. "Look," she said, as she undid the chain. "I'm really sorry about what happened. I don't usually do that without asking a girl first, but…"
I was frowning at her, waiting for the door to open. She trailed off and sighed. She could see that I wasn't really open to an apology right now so she just opened the door.
"Listen," she said, before I left. "I know you're freaked out right now, but if you wanna come back sometime, I'll explain everything. Okay? And if you never want to see me again, well…"
She smiled and then she leaned forward, stood on the toes of her heels, and placed a kiss on my cheek, right near my mouth. My heart started racing but I kept my face cold. She smiled and rocked back and opened the door a little wider.
"Thanks for the fuck," she said. "You were awesome."
The door was wide open, yet I hesitated. I felt like I was supposed to say something in return, but the wound in my neck was still fresh with pain, and—
I tore my eyes away from hers and stalked out the door.
The exit led into a dark alleyway and I turned back for a second. She was standing there in her black lace lingerie, smiling with her fangs exposed, and she gave me a big sexy wink. Then she closed the door softly. I swallowed the lump in my throat and started toward the streetlamps and before I even reached the sidewalk I was using my purse to cover the lower part of my dress. Her words and her wink had kind of made me hard again.
AN: Well, there it is. It turned out a lot longer than I thought. The whole concept of futa has a lot more comedy in it than I would've thought.
Hope it turned out okay. I've glanced at a few other futa fics, and one thing that always bothered me was how they completely avoided the issue of penis + lesbian. To me, that seems like a big deal, so I let the prose dwell on it for a little bit. It's all very light-hearted, but I didn't want to pretend it's all just normal for both of them. So I made Bella hesitant, and Alice kind of kinky.
As for Alice's orientation, I wasn't sure. I made her bi in the first draft, but I never liked bi Alice. I also had a version where she was a lesbian but already had experience with men (before she realized she was gay or whatever), but in the end, I thought it would be more impactful if it was her pseudo first time. I figured if she was confident and secure enough in her sexuality then it wouldn't be wrong or strange to her, it might even be an exciting experiment.
Anyway, not sure if I'll continue. It'll partly depend on if anyone interested and partly on my own second thoughts. As I said, I'm not a huge fan of futa, so I'm not sure about it. Anyway, let me know what you think. Later. ;)