Futanari Stories – Futanari Transformation

futanari sex - futanari transformation

 

“What do you mean, it’s time?” he sat across the table with a skeptical look on his face, the kind of look that said he wanted what I said to mean what he hoped it meant, but didn’t want me to know he was eager.

I couldn’t blame him. It was our fourth date and I was sure it would probably be our last if I didn’t give him some kind of sign that said we were going to fuck, at some point, maybe soon. “Can we go back to your place, tonight?” I asked.

His eyes swept across me with a new appreciation or hunger or both. A little smile traced its way across his lips.

His lips. I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed kissing him. You know how every lover is different, how everybody has a different way that they like to kiss and be kissed? James was my favorite. He had a way of kissing that started light and then sped up, became more urgent.

“I mean,” I batted my eyelashes and traced my finger across the back of his hand. “There’s a reason we haven’t, you know, gone further.” The lead ball in the pit of my stomach returned.

I had been thinking about it for the last three days, going back and forth about what I was going to do. James seemed so perfect, I mean, he could kiss, he was well-built, he had beautiful eyes, and he was smart and patient and kind and the list went on and on. Trust me, I liked James a lot. I thought about him all the time, but the fact that I was a Futanari was a problem.

It had always been a problem. Growing up, no one knew. Not my friends, not my parents, no one. Then in high school, I had one friend that knew, a girl, Stacie. She found out one night when she spent the night at my house.

We had been stayed up way past midnight. My parents had gone to bed hours before and we were just kind of lounging in our sleeping bags talking about boys and sex and all of the other things teenage girls talk about.

But Stacie was a little more mature than I was. She had already kissed a boy and given a blow job – something I had never done. And so, we were lying in the dark talking about what it was like and I started to get excited.

I’ll never forget the way she reacted. She had reached for her phone to check a text message and, in the light of the screen; she had seen the silhouette of my cock. I had been quietly masturbating while she described how she loved to give blow jobs.

“Oh, my god, Addison. Do you have a dildo under there?” She grabbed the edge of my sleeping bag and tossed it back.

She didn’t react the way I had imagined she might. In fact, when she saw that I was Futanari, she didn’t recoil in horror or think it was weird or gross. No, the moment Stacie realized that the large cock in my hand was actually part of me, all she wanted to do was play with it.

I hoped that’s what James would do to, but I had no way to know. There is no easy way to explain to someone, especially someone you want to sleep with, that you are Futanari. That sometimes you are both a woman and a man.

In college, I had tried to tell one guy I had gone out on a couple dates with. I brought it up while we were driving back to my place after dinner. I just kind of threw it out there. “So…how do you feel about really big cocks?” It probably wasn’t the best idea to have a few drinks before starting such a conversation.

It didn’t go well. There was no explaining what the hell I was supposed to have meant. He dropped me at my dorm and treated me like I was invisible for the rest of the semester.

But James seemed different. We clicked. He got me in ways that no one ever had. And for some reason, I was hopeful. There was no way I could trust myself to hide it. I was going to have to tell him, have to explain the whole thing. Like some narrator in a movie, I was going to have to go expository and explain exactly what I was.

Like I said, I had been thinking about it for days, trying to find the best way to tell him or show him or somehow get us there. The fourth date is kind of a litmus test, right? I mean, put up, or shut up, right?

I had kissed him goodnight and a couple of the kisses had been passionate and lingering, but I had stopped us once I felt the first inkling of It.

“Okay,” James looked a little frustrated and there was an edge to his voice. Of course, I realized that there were only a few normal reasons for not fucking a guy on the second or third date. Religion, lack of compatibility, and of course, STDs.

He didn’t look particularly happy about the fact that I had a reason. “Come on,” I said, “let’s get back to your place and I will explain.”

I figured the idea of going back to his place would keep his hope alive, and then I would figure out the rest along the way. It wasn’t a perfect plan, but it was the best I could come up with. My nerves were fried after three days of worry. I figured I was just going to do it, show him, and see what happened.

On the way home, I answered questions. “So, we’ve talked about religion. It’s not that.” James stared out the windshield and tried to keep the conversation light but I could see his worry.

“No, it’s nothing like that,” I made sure my tone didn’t encourage his imagination too much.

“Old boyfriend? You have some story about an old boyfriend you haven’t told me?” He looked at me with a little grin and I wondered what his face would look like when he saw it, when he knew the truth.

His place was about what I expected. We had talked so many times, we had both mentioned different part of our lives, and you know revealed facts. He knew I had a cat and liked to eat Bugles off the ends of my fingers. And I knew he liked barbecue and had a gay uncle that raised show dogs. He was also quite proud of his couch.

After he retrieved a couple glasses from the hanging rack above the kitchen island and poured us some wine. I decided it was time. I set my glass down on the coffee table and leaned forward to kiss him.

God, his lips felt good. So soft at first. Little kisses that moved from the middle of my lips to the edges and then back again. I met them and slipped my tongue into the play.

My heart began to race as the moment approached. I was still unsure what I was going to do. Do I tell him? Or do I just show him? My head moved back and forth between the two questions like a fish flopping around on a dock. Back and forth. Tell or show? Tell or show?

His hand went to my breast and his fingers squeezed. His skin was warm but not hot and his fingers were strong. A little bolt of pleasure speared through me and I was warm all over.

I ran my fingertips along neck.

His hand gripped my thigh.

I pulled away. “No,” I stared into his eyes and stood. “Wait.” He started to stand but I held up my hand. “I have to show you something.” I saw the fear flash behind his eyes as he sat down.

“I don’t know how else to say this,” the words sort of tumbled out of my mouth. “I’m not like other girls.” I immediately scolded myself. “How stupid did that sound?

“Okay,” James tried to fill the weird void my sentence had left in the air between us.

I took a deep breath and tucked a renegade strand of hair behind my ear. I took a few steps, and then turned around. I felt like a ringmaster at a circus about to introduce the next act.

I looked at him. I let my eyes wander over the curves of his chest, the thickness of his thighs. He was tasty man meat and I wanted it – Futanari or not, I needed the bulge I kept seeing in his pants after we kissed.

My chamois was first. I slipped the thin fabric over my head and immediately unhooked my bra and let my girls go free. His eyes went back to the size of dinner plates.

I have always been proud of my chest. By the time was thirteen, I knew I was going to have amazing breasts. I don’t know if it is part of the genetic malfunction that makes me Futanari or if it’s just good genes, but I have perfect C’s.

They are as round as the girls that get them bolted on with large, pink nipples centered on matching little areolas. I pressed my arms against them and accentuated the cleavage while I gave him a mischievous grin. “Do you like them?” I could almost see the struggle in his mind.

He wanted to stand. It took everything he had to sit there as I swayed back and forth and gave him the first part of my show.

I wanted him as turned on as I was. I needed to rev him up, make him hard. I wanted to be his fantasy, his water in a drought.

My fingers moved to the little zipper along my waist and I slowly pulled it down my thigh – opening the side of the skirt up until it detached and came free.

He scanned me. His gaze slithered down my body and came to rest at the diamond between my legs. I could almost see him imagining me, imagining his cock dipping into me.

But I wasn’t done. The matching, lace panties came next and, as graciously as I could manage, I stepped out of them and managed to keep my heels on.

I could feel my nakedness, the exposure of standing bare in front of him. But I don’t have a problem with my body; I know I am traditionally cute. Size two with a round ass and a nice chest goes a long way. Besides, being Futanari meant I was going to be the only one who would ever appreciate how I looked.

“Wow,” James swallowed hard, “I mean…”

His eyes never met mine, but I didn’t care. I loved turning him on. I ran my hands gently along the curves of my hips and down across my thighs. Hope be damned. I was horny. I couldn’t wait to feel the weight of him, the heat of his body against mine.

He shifted a bit and I glanced down at the bulge in his jeans. A fist-sized lump I had wanted to touch more times than I cared to admit.

 

I keep a bare pussy. It’s an incredible amount of maintenance, but I like the way it feels, the slippery wetness across the skin. Besides, the hair kind of gets in the way once, you know, I change.

There’s nothing like standing a few feet away from someone who desperately wants to fuck you. You know it’s torture, the sweetest, kindest torture there is. James stared at my body and I knew that, in his head, he was already fucking me.

He shifted in his seat again and cleared his throat.

“Oh,” I looked at the bulge in his pants, “look at you, mister happy pants.”

James took advantage of the moment and straightened his girth which left a long rise against the faded denim, a missile of flesh. “What did you expect?” He chuckled nervously still unsure of my intentions.

God, he’s adorable. I moved closer to the couch, just out of arm’s reach, and knelt in front of him. The expression on his face was blank but I knew he was hoping for a blow job. I mean, there I was a foot in front of him, on my knees, eagerly staring at up at him, what else could he have been thinking? But he didn’t say anything or start working his zipper in anticipation of what was about to happen. No, he was a gentleman to the end.

To be completely honest, I wasn’t against the idea. The moment the carpet pressed into my knees, I thought back to Stacie’s description. The hot, hard skin in your mouth, you can feel the heartbeat on your tongue. I couldn’t keep my eyes off the length of him, the trunk of flesh that angled up toward his waist constrained by his jeans. I wanted to see it. I wanted to wrap my fingers around it the way Stacie had described so many years before. The way she had wrapped hers around mine that night in my room.

“I’m a very sexual being,” we locked eyes as my hands wandered down my body. I imagined it was him, his hands sliding over my skin, and a chill went through me.

“Okay,” James’ eyes followed my hands like they were only light in a dark room. His breathing changed and I could tell he was struggling with the idea of sitting still on the couch. To him, this was a sweet torture, foreplay, but to me, it was more.

I knew we were racing toward a specific moment, a moment that would change everything all at once. I was terrified. “Alright,” I looked at him for a moment, “are you sure you want to know?” I had to make sure; I needed to know he was in.

“Yes.” He blinked. “Yes. Please.” He spread his knees wider and adjusted the bulge in his pants again. He looked as scared as I felt.

“Alright,” I swallowed hard and looked down at my body for a moment. “Like I said, I’m not like other girls.” I slipped my hands down my sides and then back up to my breasts, tracing my fingertips along the undersides, following the curves around. “I am different…” I shivered as I moved my fingertips across my nipples and down my belly, “…very different.” I spread my legs slowly giving him full view of my pussy.

He stared down at my honeypot and I wondered what his tongue would feel like, his hot breath.

“Do you think about sex a lot?” I was all alone now, improvising, doing my best not to let my nervous anxiety take over.

James nodded, his eyes glued to my fingers as they danced around the warmth of my cunt, tickling across the pouty lips of my flower.

“Have you thought about sex with me?” My mouth asked the question, but my head was filled with images of him standing behind me, his hands on my hips, his cock filling me.

He laid a hand on his cock and I watched him squeeze the bulge through his pants as his face blushed with embarrassment. “Um, yeah, well, you know, more than once.” He grinned like a schoolboy who got caught trying to look down a girl’s dress.

“Me too,” I pried my pussy lips apart with two fingers and then rubbed my clit. A warm wave of pleasure rolled over me and I leaned back on one arm and shifted my hips. I closed my eyes for a moment and imagined it was him, imagined it was his cock or his tongue sliding across my swollen clit and sending lightning bolts of pleasure across every nerve.

I was committed now. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen. I couldn’t have stopped it if I wanted to; I was too turned on, too excited, and lost in hope.

James shifted on the couch and I opened my eyes. His looked like he was almost in pain, like watching me was about to push him over the edge.

“Pull it out,” I glared at the behemoth in his pants, “pull it out. I want to see that monster.” I grinned and kept working my fingers in a circle over my clit. Every turn sent a shiver through me and I could already feel my clit growing, swelling against my fingers.

He didn’t need to be told twice. He yanked down his zipper and unbuttoned his jeans and, in an instant, his cock sprang into view.

It was beautiful, a solid seven or eight inch rod as hard as iron. I stared at it imagining what it was going to feel like when he shoved it inside me. If he does.

He wrapped his fingers around the shaft and began stroking his meat as I continued to masturbate in front of him. The motion squeezed a clear drop of liquid free of the tip. “Oh, pre,” I smiled and continued rubbing my clit only faster now, and harder.

He ran a finger through the bead of clear liquid that pooled at the top of his cock and offered it to me.

Playful. I leaned forward and sucked his finger into my mouth. The liquid was silky smooth like my own, sweet with just a hint of salt somewhere along the back of my tongue. I savored it a moment before I let go of his finger.

And then it happened.

I felt the change somewhere below my belly button, the familiar pressure. I felt my clit against my fingers like a pebble. I bit my lip and whimpered.

When the Futanari transformation happens, it’s a mix of pleasure and pain. My clit, the most sensitive area on a woman’s body, starts to stretch. At first, it’s like an orgasm. Every nerve in my body feels like its being tickled by a feather all at once.

But then there’s something else, something almost primal, a physical reaction. There’s a flood of hormones and chemicals in my brain. There’s a pressure in my chest and every muscle goes stiff for a moment. And then it comes. My clit surges forward, growing and thickening.

James’ hand froze around his own cock as mine emerged.

I stared at him as he watched the transformation. Don’t be afraid. Come on, be cool. I looked down at the massive cock lengthening between my thighs. I tried to breathe through the sensations that crashed like waves across me.

After three or four seconds, my Futanari gift was almost done. The tip of my cock throbbed four or five inches from my chin.

“Oh my God,” James ran his eyes along the length of my shaft before meeting my gaze. “You’re…”

“Futanari,” I sat up and wrapped my hand around my arm-sized cock.

“It’s so…big.” James stared at the root of it, his brain obviously still trying to untangle what he had just witnessed. “And you still have a…” he raised his eyebrows.

“A pussy?” I slipped a hand between my legs and spread my swollen pussy lips. “Yes, I get both.” I grinned.

I couldn’t believe he hadn’t run off. It seemed impossible, but the sense of relief alone was almost enough for me to orgasm. “I told you I wasn’t like other girls.”

“No, I um, I…” his eyes darted back and forth between my cock and my pussy, “how the…I mean, what is, are…”

“Futanari,” I said the word slowly and moved closer to the couch. He hadn’t run, hadn’t even gasped, and I was so turned on. All I wanted was to touch him. “It’s a genetic thing. I get excited, you know,” I glanced at my cock, “sexually, and my Futanari gift comes out to play.” I ran my hand along the shaft.

“Genetic?” James stared at the head of my cock incredulously.

“Yeah, that’s what the doctor said. It’s a one in a million.” I moved closer, between James’ knees and ran my finger around the tip of his cock. “The first time it came out to play, I was eleven.”

I thought back to the Saturday morning I woke up and found a massive cock had grown between my legs, the weird feeling in the pit of my stomach a mix of fear and fascination. And then the way it felt, the first time I had touched it. It was so sensitive. I remembered lying back in bed and stroking my hand along its length under the covers afraid my mom or dad would come into the room.

James swallowed hard. “It’s, um, I mean…” He was still in shock, still unsure of what to do or how to react.

I pulled it upright between my breasts. “You like it?” I gave him a coy smile, ran my tongue along the across the hole, and gave a little moan of satisfaction.

James tightened his grip on his own cock and slowly stroked it again.

Good. He’s not afraid. “Want to touch it?” I pressed it forward.

He looked intimidated. “Is it, I mean, it looks like…”

“Touch it,” I leaned back on my arms.

He reached down and wrapped his hand around the middle of my shaft. His skin was hot and his fingers felt so much different than my own. I closed my eyes and gave in to the feeling. “Yes,” I whispered.

He slipped off the couch and we rearranged ourselves on the floor, facing each other. “I can’t believe how big it is,” he slowly stroked the length of me.

A cool shiver ran across me and I reached forward and wrapped my hand around his thick member. “Yours is so thick.” I spread my legs wide and scooted toward him. I wanted to feel it inside me.

For years I had used dildos, burying them in my cooze while I worked my length. An orgasm from your cock and pussy at the same time is mind-numbing bliss. Heaven plain and simple. And I had often imagined what it would feel like to have a real cock, a throbbing hard dick sliding back and forth, bucking inside of me.

James reached down and pulled me forward, slipping his legs under my thighs, bringing his cock to my entrance. My cock stood and swayed in the space between us.

I couldn’t believe what was about to happen. I leaned forward and kissed him, devouring the little kisses until our hunger overtook us.

His cock found my bare pussy and spread my lips. The flesh was hot like fire but I didn’t care. I spread my legs and moved forward, pressing him into me. My cunt stretched around the head of his cock and an orgasm washed across me.

“Oh, yes,” I moaned in ecstasy. “More,” I shifted my hips and his cock pushed deeper inside, filling me while my cock laid against his chest a hand’s breadth from his chin.

He leaned forward and closed the distance between our bodies. My cock fell between my breasts and he squeezed us close, kissing me deeply.

My cunt was on fire. I thrust my hips and pushed him deeper.

Our bodies became a tangle of hungry, urgent desire. The hair on his chest tickled my cock which had already started leaking clear precum like a faucet. I moved my head back and watched the liquid roll down my shaft as our bodies, moving as James slowly fucked me, manually stroking my cock.

 

“God, that feels good,” I sounded delirious, lost in the waves of pleasure that rolled across me.

James leaned back a little and stroked the length of my cock. With every stroke, more precum rolled down my length and lubricated is strokes.

My cock’s orgasm was fast approaching. I could feel the strange tension. “I’m going to cum,” I panted as I moved my hips and James’ cock reached deeper inside.

“Me too,” he leaned his head down, “I want to taste you.” He parted his lips and slipped the head of my steel into his mouth.

His tongue was rough and quick, moving around my hole and head.

I reached around his waist and pulled him close to me as I fucked my hips against his cock. I wanted more. I wanted it deeper. If I could have fused with his body, I would have.

James opened his mouth wide and filled his mouth. The hot, wet sensation was too much. I thrust my hips and felt the first ropes of cum splash into his mouth. “”Yesssss,” I hissed the word and pressed the back of his head deeper onto my pole as I came.

My pussy let go at the same time. Squeezing his cock like a vice. “Cum,” I whispered, “cum inside me.” I shifted my hips so I could milk the length of him, sliding and squeezing against him the way I had always wanted my own cock treated.

It was enough. I felt him pulse and shiver.

He moaned around my heft as he unloaded deep in my pussy. His cum was liquid heat, splashing somewhere inside of me, filling me in a way I had never felt before. I kept moving, fucking my hips against him as he throbbed inside me. “Don’t stop,” I whispered in his ear, “I want more.”

I let his head go and he pulled away as another bolt of cum flew into the air and rained down onto us. I kissed him and tasted my salty desire as our tongues battled between our lips. My cock pulsed and another rope of sticky bliss fell across my breasts.

 

 

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