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If you’ve never met Grusha and Violet before, you might consider reading their first collaboration, Fuck-Talk, first. Then again, you might not…
In the days of the First People’s Republic, there were two friends. I say friends — but actually, they lived a long way apart.
One lived in the great city of Bilbao, by the banks of the Mississippi. A proletarian under the rule of the Republic, he laboured all day in the stockyards.
The other lived in a farmhouse atop a hill halfway between Szechwan and Surabaya. A peasant in the lands of the Grand Duke, she tilled the earth growing kailanand pomegranates.
They were Good Persons, both of them.
The first was called Grusha. He was a middle-aged married man with a slightly flabby waistline.
The second was called Violet. She was a pretty young woman with dark hair and a gender-flexible partner.
Despite their distance, they felt very close — almost as if they ought to be one person. Or at least, have one savings account.
This is all very Brechtian. Verfremdungseffektand all that. Don’t take it too literally.
Grusha awoke one morning from an unsettled night, to find he had a cunt.
Violet awoke the same morning to find herself sporting a cock.
It was not immediately obvious to Grusha that anything was amiss. The first thing he noticed was the absence of morning wood. Normally, he liked waking up with an incipient erection: it gave those first bleary moments of the day more optimism than would normally be afforded him by his habitual exhaustion, dehydration, back-ache and caffeine- and/or nicotine-deprivation. It gave him a choice as to whether to leap out of bed to start the day, or to stroke his dick absent-mindedly for a few minutes whilst letting the blood begin to circulate and the mind begin to roam. Or, sometimes, it encouraged him to shuffle over, swivel round, and start eating out his wife’s asshole (she usually slept curled up on her side, making cunt-access initially challenging), in the hope of eliciting a pre-breakfast fuck.
This morning, however, there was, apparently, no erection.Ah, the challenges of middle-age! Grusha sighed. Undeterred, he reached down to cop a feel. Yes, the pubic hair was there, leading the way to where his cock, presumably flaccid, should be. But it wasn’t. Blearily, Grusha reached further down between his legs, ignoring an unexpected dip in his crotch. It wasn’t until he found his middle finger touching his own perineum that he fully realized that something was wrong. Panicking slightly, he retraced his steps, till he found that strange dip he had noticed in his pubic hair. He pressed slightly, and was alarmed to feel it give way to reveal a softly thatched vertical cleft, gently opening up to allowing the tip of his finger to slip inwards.
Violet, on the other hand, noticed the moment she awoke that something was different. It felt like something verysignificant was going on between her legs. For a second it felt as though her clitoris was larger than usual — as if she had been frigging it for a very long time. But then she remembered that she had only just woken up, so couldn’t have been rubbing one off since last night at the latest.
Oh? She reached down to investigate, expecting to feel her swollen bud, and perhaps to be able to play with it for a while. Maybe a bit of rubbing would help open her up and elicit some lovely cunt-slime which she could then use to lubricate her clit further. Violet liked the feel of her cunt, especially the way her fuck-lips could get all flappy and dangly when aroused. And she liked the taste when she licked the juice off her fingers.Yes, that would be a nice way to start the day…
However, she never got that far, for, where she was expecting her clit to be, there was something else. It was still flaccid, but definitely bigger than she was expecting. Somewhat alarmed, she reached around it, to find two flabby sacks of skin, each housing a testicle…
“FUCK!” screamed Grusha, kicking off the bedclothes in panic. He looked down, and where he would have expected to see his cock, if not erect, at leastthere, dangling — there was nothing. At least, nothing he could see from this angle. He leant forward as far as he could go, and all he could see was a mat of wiry dark brown pubic hair, disappearing over the horizon of his crotch. He tried to get a closer look, but — “ouch!” — felt a twinge in his hips and pulled back.
Despite the noise he was making, his wife appeared fast asleep.Just as well, he thought, deciding instead to investigate by touch. Curious, he reached again between his legs to find that cleft just below where he had expected his cock to be. Like a little forested valley, it fell away between two soft ridges, and between those, two more flaps. “Ouch,” he exclaimed Ankara travesti again, as fingers chafed against dry labia. Instinctively, he licked his fingers and tried again. This attempt worked better than before, and the flaps gently gave way, so he could slip the tip of his finger between them.
“FUUUUUCK!” screamed Violet, also kicking off the bedclothes. Panicking, she leant over to check that her partner was asleep: but yes, she seemed oddly undisturbed by the commotion going on in their shared bed. Violet sat up and examined the tackle now hanging from her crotch. It was flaccid and floppy, both penis and testicles dangling unremarkably. There seemed to be rather of lot of loose skin, making the whole assemblage resemble a small bunch of prunes — the two testicles swinging gently an almost comical distance below the rest. Instinctively, she tightened her pelvic floor muscles, and the testicles pulsated upwards momentarily, before resuming their rest position.Weird, she thought.
It took a while for Violet to work out which way was up with the penis.Surely cocks aren’t all like this! she thought to herself. But then she remembered that her last cis-boyfriend had been Jewish — so much neater and tidier. This foreskin seemed indecently capacious, as if it were designed for a cock several inches longer than the one now between her thighs.I guess that’s OK, thought Violet.Must be tough the other way round though…
Meanwhile, Grusha was wondering:Which way now? He spat on his fingers again, slathering as much saliva as he could over the surface of his new-found vulva. He decided — like, perhaps, a typical male — to go for the full-frontal attack, pushing his middle finger into his pussy as deep as it would go. “Fuck!” he moaned, not so much in pleasure as in astonishment at feeling his own finger caressing him internally in a space which had never existed until now. This was not like fingering his asshole, he decided; asshole was fun, definitely — but this cunt was like nothing on earth. He started to explore, wriggling his finger back and forth, and twiddling it around every which way. Very pleasant, but nothing earth-shattering yet, until he curled his finger upwards and round, and it stroked softly against the front wall of his pussy. “Oh my fucking God,” he muttered to himself: this was new — and this was good.
Violet managed eventually to negotiate her way towards finding out how to pull the foreskin of her new penis back. She wasn’t quite sure why she was doing this, but she was just curious to find something which wasn’t skin. And there it was: a diddy soft dickhead, dark pink and slightly shrivelled, poking out from between the folds. She hawked a large gob of spit, dribbled it down onto her new genitalia, and began to coat her cock with it, allowing the foreskin to pull back even further. But it wasn’t until, while exploring the underside of the glans, she accidentally brushed her wettened finger against the frenulum, that she squealed in pleasure. And immediately, without so much as a by-your-leave, she noticed her cock begin to grow…
Finding his new G-spot reminded Grusha that just beyond his front pussy wallshould be a clitoris. Grusha had always found it a bit of a thankless task finding his wife’s clitoris: usually, when it needed to be found (i.e., when finger- and tongue-foreplay was called for) it was tiny and hidden, but when it swollen and aroused it hardly mattered any more whether the infernal thing could be precisely located. But this was a chance, Grusha thought, to do some serious genital orienteering.
And so Grusha withdrew his middle finger from his cunt, enjoying the sensation of sliding it out between his pussy-lips for the first time in his life. It was then that he noticed that it was coated with a thin layer of slime.Oh wow, he thought.Cunt-juice — yeah! He brought his hand up to his lips, breathing in the coveted fragrance. He put the finger in his mouth and sucked the slime off. “Fuck, that’s good!” he said out loud. He wanted more.
This time, though, he decided not to go for the full-frontal attack, remembering that it had been his intention — hadn’t it? — to explore his clit. Wetting his middle finger again, whilst again savouring the residual cunt-flavour, he returned it to his crotch, sliding it gently up and down between his pussy-lips, teasing them slowly open and eliciting yet more slime from within. But then, as he slid his moist finger slowly upwards, it reached a place where the lips would no longer part…
Oh fuck! thought Violet, as she watched her cock begin to grow. And as it did, a pleasure grew in her crotch that she had never felt the like of before, seemingly in proportion to the size and stiffness of her cock.This is fucking weird, she thought,kinda like a horn-o-meter. The hornier I feel, the bigger it gets; and the bigger it gets, the better it feels. Antalya travesti And look, you can tell how horny I am by the angle! Violet let go of her cock, experimenting by ceasing all manual stimulation and thinking about something totally unsexy –let’s see, changing a toaster plug — and immediately her cock started to droop again.Aww, sweet! she thought,poor thing. I wonder whether I can make it go hard without touching it at all. And so she began to talk to herself, reciting some of her favourite porn lines: “Oh yeah, baby, you wanna see my dick all stiff and hard, that feels so fucking good, baby, go on, suck that cock deep into your fucking mouth, make me fucking cum all over your slut face, make it –“
She stopped, thinking,Wait a moment, I’m a lesbian — why am I talking like a fucking male pornstar? I like cunt, after all, and I… hang on, do I still have a cunt hidden underneath all this shit? After all… She reached down further, beyond the base of her cock, then around behind her dangling balls, and…
“Motherfuck!” she whispered, as her fingers found a pair of pussy-lips lurking below her testicles. “I’m a futanari; I’m a fucking dickgirl!” she squealed in delight. She tightened her scrotum again, and her cunt-lips became easier to reach — and stroke. They were already moist, and so, gripping her stiff cock again with one hand, she slipped two fingers of the other into her warm futa cunt.
“Fucccckkkk!” hissed Grusha, as his fingers found his clit. This was like nothing he had ever felt before: a bit like stroking his dickhead, but closer in, more intimate — and it had the added advantage of proximate lubrication available from his new-found pussy. He wasn’t sure whether to concentrate on the clit or the flaring fuck-lips at first, before thinking,Fuck it, why not both? In for a penny… Both hands between his thighs now, he slid two fingers of his left hand into his slippery cunt, while his right concentrated on gently rubbing his clit. “Oh fuck, this is good,” Grusha muttered.
Violet, meanwhile, was in seventh heaven.Double pleasure: fuck yeah! she thought to herself, as she started to pleasure both cock and cunt simultaneously. The cunt bit was easy: she knew how to do that, knew where her two curling fingers needed to reach to find that sweet rough spot inside. But the fact that she didn’t have a clit as such was initially a bit disorientating — and pleasuring a cock from this angle was something she’d never done before. It took her a while to realise that most of the shaft itself was not particularly sensitive, and that the frenulum was, if anything, oversensitive. But trial and error brought her back to that stupid foreskin, and she realised that, by wrapping two fingers and a thumb around the glans and sliding the skin back and forth across her cock-head, she had perfect control over her self-stimulation: smooth, moist, exquisitely pleasurable, and so easy to calibrate. “Fuuuuuuuck!” she squealed, as she began to stroke cock and G-spot simultaneously. “Fuck fuck fuck this is good!”
Grusha, however, did not have the advantage of any degree of familiarity with the technique of self-pleasuring a cunt. He hoped that the methods he used on his wife — a combination of rubbing around the clit with the fingers of one hand whilst exploring inside with the other — would work, though it was quite frustrating that he couldn’t physically achieve what he really craved, which was to reach his own cunt with his tongue. But pleasure seemed to be spreading through his whole body, making his flesh tingle all over and his nipples swell and harden. He reached up with his left hand and, to his amazement, felt globes of soft flesh swelling around his nipples. “Motherfuck, I’ve got tits!” he exclaimed, his cunt juicing up further at the excitement. “I’ve got a fucking cunt, and two great big fucking tits!” he squealed, as he began to fondle and knead his new breasts.
It was not just the tits and cunt that were different, though. For, as he continued to pleasure himself, his hands crawling ecstatically up and down his new body, he realised that this feeling was different from any he had ever experienced before. His whole body was tingling, his mind was losing all coherence, he began to twist and thrash the way he never did when he had a cock, urging his orgasm on, the pleasure in his cunt suffusing his whole being. “Oh fuck, oh God, oh shit,” he muttered stupidly.
Violet watched in awe as her cock continued to throb and swell. Now it felt raging, desperate, as if it had a mind of its own. “Oh fuck, I gotta fuck someone with this,” she mumbled, realising that the desires of her cock were taking her over completely. She wanted to fuck cunt, she needed to fuck cunt: her cock knew that, and the needs of her cock were usurping her consciousness completely. Briefly, she surveyed her partner’s buttocks, wondering whether she İstanbul travesti could, unnoticed, slip her cock into her tight anal orifice. Deciding that would be a touch too risky, she instead wrapped her left hand more fully round the length of her shaft, still jerking the foreskin up and down with her thumb and fingers, whilst cupping her right palm around her scrotum, so as to maximise the cock-sleeve feeling she so desperately craved.
She began to feel something she had never experienced before, something she could only describe as a boiling sensation, deep in her swelling balls, gradually surging upwards through her cock. At first she didn’t know what it was, wondering for a moment if she was going to pee. When she realised what it must be, she momentarily took fright, concerned what it might do to her bed-linen — and the feeling briefly subsided. But — “No, I’m gonna fucking do this,” she said to herself. “I’m gonna fucking come from this motherfucking futa cock — just fucking watch me!” she called out.
As Grusha’s orgasm overtook him, he realised just how much he had changed. For this was not like the closely-channelled man-orgasms he was used to: this was everywhere, enveloping him, transporting him, suffusing every last corner of his trembling, thrashing body. So used to maintaining control, he lost control, his body bucking and writhing in pleasure as a series of inchoate animalistic groans welled up deep inside him, then escaped, echoing noisily around the room.
But it did not stop. And he did not want it to stop. And he would not let it stop. He continued to rub his clit with his right hand, as his left pleasured cunt and tits in alternation, feeling the ecstatic trembling suffuse his body, continuing to thrash and moan, revelling in a pleasure he had never felt before.
Violet felt the opposite. So used to orgasms taking her over body completely, she observed instead in amazement as this one channelled itself more and more narrowly into her cock. It was as if the rest of her body had disappeared: all that mattered was her cock, her hot, desperate, throbbing cock, stiffening further in her palm. She watched in awe and delight as she felt that nexus of pleasure travel up her shaft, pausing just below her glans, ready to explode. And then she felt the first exquisite cum-pulse travel from her balls toward her glans. She expected her cock to squirt, but nothing came out on the first pulse; and yet she knew she had passed the point of no return, for her cock pulsated again, and this time exploded. Briefly, Violet realised that she had not given any thought to where she was going to squirt her cum, but her curse of frustration became a curse of ecstasy: “Fu… fu… FUUUUUUCK!!!” she screamed, as an unprecedented wave of delight overtook her, centred inexorably in that gorgeous shaft of hot flesh gripped in her hands, which was now jerking and bucking, squirting its hot cream uncontrollably.
The first squirt was a modest one, dribbling gently out of her glans and down the topside of her shaft onto her thumb. The second squirted some six inches into the air, splattering back onto her smooth tummy. But from the third onwards, her cum came out in huge, thick, rich ropes. Mischievously, she angled her cock upwards, so that she could paint her body white, cum splattering joyously across her pert tits, face and hair. “OH YEAH!” she bellowed. “SQUIRT THAT FUCKING CUM ALL OVER MY FUCKING FACE, BABY!” Her right hand still controlling her cock-angle, her left pawed maniacally at her tits and face, scooping up globs of cum and spreading the gorgeous cream over her neck, chest and lips, so she could lick it lasciviously off her fingers. It was sweet, and Violet moaned in ecstasy, “Oh yeah, fuck yeah, hot sweet fucking cum, more cum baby, more… more… more…”
Grusha, meanwhile, felt overwhelmed. No sensation in the world had ever prepared him for this. He lay, panting, whimpering, moaning, as eventually he came down from his orgasm, and felt his fingers slip gently out of his wet frigged-out cunt. Slowly, he brought his slippery fingers to his mouth, inhaled deeply to bask in the gorgeous pungent fragrance, and sucked off the warm juice one finger at a time. “Oh God, oh fuck,” he moaned, “that’s so fucking good…”
It was a few minutes before he felt able to move. Quietly slipping out of bed, leaving his wife still fast asleep, he stood up to admire his new body in the bedroom mirror: still recognisably him, but his facial features finer, smoother, less rugged, full natural breasts with wide areolas gracing his now hairless body, his hips curvier, softer — and his pubic thatch, still wet, glistening from between his legs. “Oh my God…” he muttered. “How on earth?”
Grusha knew what he had to do. There was one person he must talk to about it, one person who might understand. He picked up his phone, and dialled. “Violet?” he whispered, as he heard his call answered.
“Wanker!” came the voice he knew well. “The fuck’s up with you?”
“Violet, this is weird. You’ll never believe what’s happened to me.”
“Surprise me, asslicker!” replied Violet, in her inimitable turn of phrase.
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