The Gift: A His & Hers Transformation & Feminization Adventure
I.
My wife, Samantha, had stuffed them at the very bottom of my stocking.
I found them -- under batteries, a cool pocket hand tool with a knife and screwdrivers, some candy, and a packet of razor blades for my razor.
My eyebrows raised when I looked at the package. "Gender change pills?"
My wife smiled sweetly at me. "His and Hers variety."
"His and hers?"
"I thought we could play a little this Christmas now that the presents are opened."
I laughed. "Play, huh?"
I admittedly felt a little on the spot, as this was something I had never considered. And now, my wife was kneeling before me with a sweet, expectant look on her face. I do like making my wife happy -- but I wasn't so sure.
Samantha could sense my hesitancy. "I mean -- it would be just for a day." She bit her bottom lip and winced, waiting for my response.
"I don't know..."
"Just for Christmas." She pouted. "Please, Eddie?"
I removed the pills from the box. There were ten. A row of five, blue, and a row of five, pink. The pills rattled in their containment between plastic and foil. I was not ignorant of their power; I had seen the stories on the news. Eyebrow-raising stories. These pills were no joke.
"How much did they cost?"
"No more than your new bandsaw. Not bad for 10 pills, right? Besides, you now have the once-in-a-lifetime chance to experience femininity -- to be a woman completely. It's so worth it, Eddie. Honestly, it will be so much fun, I promise."
I rattled the pills a bit more in my hand. Was this really a good idea?
"There's one more present I have for you. Maybe you should see it, and then you can decide." She turned back to the tree. The ornate golden earrings I had bought her for Christmas dangled from her ears. Her breasts bounced in her shirt. She reached for a package hidden behind the tree, a rectangular box covered in brown paper and frilly red ribbons. She passed it to me.
"What is this?"
"You'll see."
I pulled back the ribbons and ripped open the paper. I held the top of the box and let the bottom slip from under it. In the box was a thick sheet of glittery white tissue paper. Slowly, I slipped it back revealing crimson lace and satiny fabric.
"Your breasts will settle nicely into it, I think. I mean, think of your mom and your grandmothers on both sides -- and your sister. All of them are so well endowed. Yours will be big, Eddie. Much bigger than mine. I swallowed nervously in disbelief, my chest tingling at the thought, already feeling uneasy. But Samantha kept talking.
Oh, and I bought you stockings, too. They have nice little, red-tipped toes, your little feet will look so sexy in them. And I bought a garter belt. And panties of course. Mmm. I can just imagine your new pussy getting the crotch of those panties soaking wet. Can't you?"
With a slightly shaking hand I searched through the box, inspecting each element of the outfit she had chosen, understanding the deliberation that had gone into selecting it. I swallowed and traced the lace around the edges of the lingerie. I touched the soft fabric. I admired the brilliant crimson color and the toes of the stockings. I curled my feet in my wool socks.
Then I held the cups of lingerie. They were large. I balked, I imagined them encasing two large breasts and my nipples hardened. I imagined my own flesh filling them completely. God. Did this really turn my wife on? With a little chagrin, I realized blood was rushing into my cock.
"I wanted this to be special, so I splurged. This set is from a little boutique lingerie shop in the city. The clerk was so helpful. She asked what you looked like, and I did my best to imagine it. I told her and she entered it into her computer, creating a 3D model of your body so we could do sizing. Seeing it all got me so wet. After selecting I paid and rushed out to the car. I couldn't help but dive my hand into my panties once I got inside. I came so hard in the mall parking lot thinking of you as a woman wearing my gift... Eddie?"
I must have trailed off because she startled me when she touched my arm.
"Honey?"
I stammered. "Yes, dear?"
"You know how I bought you those razor blades for your shaver?"
I nodded, looking back to my pile of presents as I touched the lingerie -- my new bandsaw, my underwear, various tools and practical items. The lingerie was a gift of entirely another function. I had never considered ever dressing as a woman. "They are good razors for a man. But you're going to need to use my shaver if we are going to do this right. I've put a fresh blade in it. It's the pink one by the bath."
My breath shook. My cock was engorged fully and pitching a tent into my flannel pajama pants. My wife looked down and back to me.
"Your body hair will mostly fall out when we take the pills. But you will need to shave your armpits, your legs, and -- " Her eyes fell to my crotch.
"You mean?"
"Shaved clean. I want your pussy shaved clean. Do you understand?"
Goosebumps broke out on my arms and legs, and I could suddenly feel my trimmed pubic hair tingling at the thought.
For a moment I thought of the guys on my community league baseball team. What would they think about this? Was I seriously considering doing this?
My wife smiled. "And, honestly, I can't wait to taste your pussy."
My cock pulsed. A small drop of precum pushed from its head and soaked into my flannel pants.
I was already getting wet.
I thought of the pink razor waiting for me at the edge of the bath and winced. The situation was too much to fathom, and it made me whisper softly, "Oh, fuck." The corner of my wife's mouth perked up in a grin.
"So, Eddie -- can I run you a bath?"
I took a deep breath. I nodded.
It was worth experimenting.
I placed the pills in the box with the lingerie and stood up. I bent over and picked up the box and turned to talk to our master bathroom.
And, in all the intensity of the moment, with my cock throbbing in my pajamas -- in all the allure of becoming a woman and my wife's tongue teasing my freshly bathed pussy -- I completely forgot all about my wife and the line of blue pills in the package.
II.
We walked up our stairs to the master suite, my mind flooded in competing thoughts:
Was this a good idea?
What would I look like?
Were the pills safe?
What would the guys think?
Was I allured or completely terrified?
Those two emotions -- arousal and terror -- blended within me. I noted how, working together, they drove my steps forward. Together, they were compelling.
Suddenly the door to our bedroom had taken on the foreboding appearance of a cosmic threshold. I was entering as Ed, or Eddie as my wife and friends called me. How would I be leaving?
I thought of my mom and sister. My grandmothers. The long ancestral line of men and women who had led me to this point. And now, here I was, at the behest of my wife, about to confound that progression. Defy it.
What would the results of that defiance look like? My mind flashed with possibilities. And in each the resulting me was slinking about in the silky soft lingerie my wife had bought for me, an object of desire and lust. To my chagrin, my balls expectantly awaited the soft cupping of the satiny panties in the gift box.
I rested the lingerie box on our bathroom counter. My wife followed close behind me. I pulled off my shirt and slipped out of my flannel pajama pants, the crotch of which had been soaked with an ever-expanding patch of precum since my wife had let me in on her little Christmas wish. I could hear her turn the faucets and the room was filled with the sound of rushing water into the tub. I turned.
"My god, Eddie." My wife's mouth fell open. "I don't think I've ever seen you so hard in my life."
My cock was engorged, nearly painfully so. It pointed skyward, head thick. My heart was racing in my chest.
"God, just look at it. It's hopping with your heartbeat."
I looked down, slightly embarrassed.
She smirked. "You really like the thought of it going away, don't you?"
My breath shook a bit -- then I tried to laugh it off. "Samantha! C'mon..."
"I bet your balls are so heavy. Yes! Look, Eddie, you're dripping to the floor."
I looked down at a long strand of precum dripping from the head of my cock. My cock pumped and it was followed by another, adding to the first, breaking the translucent strand of fluid with its weight and falling to the floor.
My wife's eyes widened. "Oh fuck, Eddie. I like that you are so aroused, that your balls are swelling with come, that your cock is rock hard because a pretty, pink, little pussy is about to take its place."
My cock suddenly swelled, nearly touching my stomach. Another long strand of come dripped to the floor. A puddle would be forming if I stood in place for too long.
"My Eddie really wants to be a woman, doesn't he? Every time your heart beats you drip. Your cock is already acting like a pussy. It wants to be wet."
"Stop. Please." I blushed, involuntarily flexing my muscles, making my cock bounce. The drip just wouldn't stop.
She approached me and wrapped her arms around me softly. "Oh, Eddie. It's okay." She lifted her arm, cradling the back of my head sweetly in her hand, and beckoned my head to her level. Then I could feel the tips of her manicured nails tickling my shaft.
She took my cock into her lithe fingers and pumped it languidly a few times. She whispered softly in my ear. "It's okay. I'm wet, too. My panties are soaked completely through. They're hugging my crotch under my flannel pjs." She pulled on my cock, the head pressing into her hip, and depositing a wet spot to her pants. I moaned softly.
Steam danced over the crystal-clear water of the bathtub and in the late winter morning light shining in the window as Samantha stroked my fully engorged cock. I was close. Fuck. I was already so close. I leaned forward, ready to explode. But Samantha tugged only once more before releasing me. She lifted her hand and tapped my chest with a finger. "Time to get in the tub."
I sighed and moved past her.
"No, no," she retorted. Her hand was outstretched. "Before you can use my pretty, pink razor, you have to start with yours. I've put the right guide on it. You'll shave close. You can stand right here and do it. I want to see your hair falling to our cold, white-tiled floor. Shave your pubes to start."
I took the razor, flummoxed by her suddenly demanding presence. I had never seen her act like this.
She turned back to the bathroom counter and touched the lingerie in the box. I stood watching her. Even beneath her Christmas pjs, her lovely hourglass figure could be surmised with a glance -- the way her ass plumped out deliciously behind her, the curve of her back, the outline of her breasts, her long hair flowing gracefully down her back and around her shoulders, her dangly earrings bobbing with her slight movements. She was a head shorter than me. I lingered for a moment admiring her until she looked up in the mirror and right into my eyes sternly.
"Eddie! I said be a good girl and shave your pubes. Right now. Pronto. Do you understand?" You should already be shaving." She looked back to the lingerie, her fingers dancing over it.
Good girl? Oh my god. I flipped on the razor. It whirred to life. I took a deep breath and aligned it and shaved a strip of pubic hair, just to the right of my cock, near to my thigh. It fell to the tile without fanfare. I shaved another, then another.
Soon my pubis was graced with trim, short hair -- not stubble though. A soft, short, sensuous trim. My wife seemed to have picked a higher guide on my shaver. I ran my hand above my crotch, feeling the smooth result, then noticed my hair along my thighs.
"Should I shave my legs, too?"
She turned and settled her tight ass to the bathroom counter. "Oh, look at my little Eddie. You already look much more feminine, erect cock aside. So cleanly trimmed and ready. I already know you're going to look so hot for me. I can just imagine you standing by the tree, your daddy's daughter, horny and aroused in her new lingerie. Can you imagine it, Eddie? Can you imagine how you'll look in your lacey lingerie?"
Butterflies filled my tummy. I tried to keep the subject on the matter at hand. "So -- should I shave my legs?"
"As I said before, the entirety of the hair on your body will fall out when you take the pill, but, yes, now I think I'd like to watch you shave your legs. And your armpits. Shave, Eddie. Shave your body clean." I tried to ignore her enthusiasm and lifted my left arm high. She giggled. "That's right. Shave under there, dear."
I stood surrounded by a pile of hair. She eyed me up and down, then lifted her hand and did a twirl with her fingers. I turned in a slow circle and then back to face her.
She nodded in approval. "Very good, Eddie. Now give me a moment." She walked into the bedroom. I stood, cock still hard, feeling a little sheepish -- nearly like a shorn sheep -- and waited. In two minutes, she arrived with a broom and dustpan and thrust them toward me. "Sweep up your mess."
I stepped back and laughed at her.
She stepped forward and scowled. "Do not make me ask you twice." She gestured with a flick of her chin to the floor. "Sweep. Now! I want all of this male body hair off our tile floor and in the trash can. You won't be needing it anymore."
My cock swelled at her demands. Fuck -- couldn't she see I was about to burst already? I knew she could see it -- my painfully swollen cock swinging in the air as I moved. She was teasing me. Making me wait. I flashed puppy dog eyes at her as I began to sweep, in a way I was pleading for her to ease the tension that was positively possessing my entirety, but much to my chagrin, her expression didn't change.
She watched me coldly as I swept the floor. I thought about her easy grasp on my cock. The way she had tugged me. Sweeping up made me closer still. I stretched in every direction, sweeping my hair into a pile, cock swinging, so close to the edge of coming.
I flexed my muscles to reign it in. I couldn't bear the idea she would see me come with so much as a look, especially since my erection was giving me away at every moment. I leaned down and swept the pile of hair into the dustpan and threw it in the trash.
"Good girl. Now get in the bath."
I nodded.
I never took baths. Always showers. My wife was the one who took baths. I thought of her relaxing in the tub. Reading. Candles lit. Taking her time. Shaving her legs. She called these her creature comforts. I realized suddenly that I was unexpectedly about to have a taste of what that was like.
III.
I stepped into the bath. One foot at a time. Steam rose, swirling around my calves. Samantha had run the water hot.
"Now Eddie, as you settle in, I want you to make sure to deeply feel the sensation your balls dipping into this hot water -- and as you feel it, know deeply that they are going away."
My eyebrows arched. So taken in what was occurring, my cock -- which was achingly full and throbbing -- now hopped at any suggestive thing that crossed my wife's lips. It bounded in place, dripping another long string of precum into the bath.
"My little Eddie is excited to say goodbye to her balls. Isn't she?"
I whimpered as she stepped forward and stretched out her right hand. I pushed my pelvis forward, hoping desperately for another tug before I settled into the bath.
Instead, her pointer and middle finger made a "V". She turned her palm facing up and placed a fingertip lightly on the underside of each of my balls. I shuddered.
She moved my balls up and down, barely bobbing them in place, licking her lips. My cock moved with them. "Oh Eddie. They're so heavy with come." I moaned. "Do you think they know what they are about to become? I think they do."
"Samantha." I whispered. She was taking me to the edge with her words. I could barely think straight. My nipples hardened.
"Oh, I like thinking of your balls vacating your ball ack. Pulling your lovely scrotum behind them. Pulling it tight against you." She moved her fingers ever so slightly against my balls. "Two words." She smiled mischievously. "Labia Majora."
"Oh fuck." A long drop of come dripped out onto her lithe wrist. Then another.
"My little Eddie wants labia. Doesn't she?"
I was frozen in place, knees shaking. I felt like the only thing keeping me from falling was her two fingers. Balanced there, by two light touches on each of my testicles.
She removed the subtle balance of my balls between her two fingers and traced the center of my ball sack with her middle finger, "And this." I moaned. "What will bloom here?"
I breathed in. I was shaking, so much that my inhale shuddered as it filled my lungs.
She tapped her finger between my balls. "I asked you a question, Eddie. Answer it now. What will bloom here once your engorged come-filled balls say 'bye bye'?"
I bit my lip.
She shook her head, pulled her hand away, and turned. "Fine, Eddie. We don't have to play." She went to grab the lingerie and leave.
"My pussy."
She stood still, box in hand.
"I didn't hear that, Eddie." She stood. Silent. Unmoved. "What did you say?"
"My pussy." My balls bounced at my reply. They tingled, charged, positively electric at my denial of them. "My pussy will bloom." I delicately traced my finger down the center of my balls. "Right here."
My feet, ankles, and halfway up to my calves was so warm -- acclimated to the hot, inviting bath. The rest of my body began to shake in the cooler air of our bathroom. Shivering at the disparity of it all. I wiggled my toes.
Every part of me that entered the bath would be changing. But for now I was locked in this maddening liminal space, aching for a pussy, with my mind reeling over the fact I could never in a million guesses guessed how we would be spending our Christmas morning.
I looked at Samantha, who stood, still unmoved, her back facing me. This was a Samantha I had never experienced before. Calm, resolute, uncompromising.
She stood and said quietly. "Eddie, you will sit down in the bath."
A sigh of relief left my lips so quickly it made butterflies in my tummy. She continued and I listened.
"You will feel your balls settle into the hot water. The water is hot for a reason. Hot water helps open the pores on your legs. It helps soften your hair so that that pink, girlie little razor will easily cut through hair and give you a close shave."
I thought of the lingerie Samantha had waiting for me. Slipping my cleanly shaved pussy into it. What would it feel like?
"You will soak in the bath now -- do you understand?"
I looked down at the bath and nodded.
"Eddie."
I looked up
"I don't hear you getting into the bath."
I fell back, holding the tub behind me and lowered so slowly, until the underside of my balls met the water. I stopped, thinking of my wife's fingers. My cock painfully hard, I descended, so very slowly, lavishing my balls in the sensation of submersion; saying goodbye -- at least for a while. I moaned out at the hot water. It burned only slightly and quickly became agreeable.
The water reached the base of my cock and it pulsed on its own, dripping into the bath. I moaned out as I sunk down into the water and leaned back, submerging my body.
My wife turned.
I tried to meet her eyes, looking for her approval. Instead, her eyes moved along my body, as if it was a mere inspection. Something she had to do. Perfunctory.
I reached for the razor.
"Ah, ah, Eddie. Remember, we want a close shave. You need to be smooth. Soak first."
I could feel her eyes settle on my cock. It was hard and the head was sticking out of the water. Her gaze didn't move from it. It was cold. I flexed, pushing another stream of precum from my bulbous cockhead, which flowed out like lava into the bath. There was no change of expression on her face.
She crooked her elbows and tied her hair into a ponytail. Then nodded.
"Listen closely."
I moved to the edge of the tub and put both my hands on it. I was ready for any instruction she might have for me.
"Remember what I told you: I want you shaved clean, do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Be deliberate about it. Don't rush. I don't want to see one cut on your body. And also: Don't miss a hair. Not one. Do you understand me?"
I nodded.
"Especially on your balls. I want a smooth pussy, do you understand?"
She glared at me, right in the eye. I moaned. It struck me how feminine the moan sounded coming from my lips. Samantha was changing me. Shifting my psyche and perceptions, even without a pill crossing my lips.
"Start with your bikini line. Now."
Oh, fuck. I picked up the razor and carefully swiped my crotch to the right of my thigh, just above my cock. I slid the razor and the hair, now adequately romanced by the hot water, gave way. The trail left behind was smooth and clean. I had never shaved so close before. I swiped the razor again beside the last path, leaving it clean. Every swipe making me more feminine, revealing what was to be my mound.
My mons pubis.
My wife nodded. "Now shave your labia majora."
My balls bounced.
"Can I shave it once I've changed? It may be easier."
She shook her head. "Shave your balls, Eddie."
I winced at how coldly she said this, as much as I winced at her mentioning my balls. I tried to course correct to please her.
"Okay, I'll shave my labia now."
She looked on, nonplussed, without emotion.
"You should already be shaving, Eddie."
I took my right testicle in my hand and carefully made the first swipe. Delicately. She turned back to the bathroom counter. I paused for a moment to look at her. She cocked her hip and put her weight to one leg.
She stood there as I shaved my balls clean.
"I'm shaved clean."
She turned and said dryly "Are you sure?"
I nodded. "Yes. My pussy -- I mean, my crotch is shaved clean."
She smirked. "Let me look."
She walked across the bathroom and fell to her knees at the edge of the bath. Her hand dipped into the water and took my balls in her hand. She juggled them lightly in her fingers, feeling my skin lightly with her thumb, searching for any stubble. My legs spread wide at her touch. I moaned softly.
She nodded.
"Good girl."
My cock pulsed. I liked being her good girl.
"Now shave your legs."
She sat and watched me. Her eyes followed the razor as I shaved my legs clean. The razor slid over my spread thighs, removing the hair that had always been there.
I swiped. Dipped the razor in the water. Small hairs sunk to the bottom of the bath. My body was becoming smooth. Feminine. Preparing itself for my gift.
"Now lift your arms and give me the razor." Samantha dipped the razor in the water and made short work of the stubble under my arms. Holding each arm high, she delicately finished the job. She reached her hand into the bath and took a cup of water and washed away her work.
"There."
She leaned back. "You look good, Eddie. I'm pleased."
I smiled sweetly and nodded. She grinned back.
With that, she placed the razor on the side of the tub and stood up.
I looked up.
In disbelief.
Trying to place it.
There was a subtle bump -- small, but there -- protruding in her flannel pants. It pushed the flannel fabric out slightly. I squinted at it.
I looked up at Samantha. She gazed down sweetly. There was something about her face. Perhaps it was that her hair was up in a ponytail now. Her jaw looked a bit square from this angle, her chin slightly more filled out.
I looked back at the knob in her flannel pants. It pulsed slightly, pushing the fabric out just a bit more.
"Samantha?"
A heat was building in my balls. My cock pumped knowingly at what I was seeing. Oh, fuck. I had forgotten about the line of blue pills. I had been so taken in the idea of changing, the sumptuous lingerie in my gift box, that I forgotten.
"His -- and Hers."
But wait. We hadn't taken any pills yet.
My wife reached up and ran her hands through my hair, sweetly, just over my right ear.
"Did you like your pancakes this morning, Eddie?"
"Yes?" I said, my voice cracking.
"Your wife decided they needed something to make them special for Christmas. So I popped a blue pill and sprinkled it over the syrup I had just poured on mine. It tasted just like powdered sugar."
Oh, God.
"So, then I popped a pink pill over yours," she said. "And then I brought your plate to the table and watched you eat every bite."
She smiled. "And then, after your plate was empty, you did something I didn't expect."
Oh. Fuck.
"You asked for seconds."
The knob in her pants pushed forward, pushing the flannel out another inch in one lurch.
"So, we had seconds."
IV.
The bulge in my wife's pants thrust outward again, pitching a growing tent in her plaid, flannel, pajama pants.
We had bought matching pajamas for Christmas.
It was her idea.
My wife moaned and spoke plainly, enunciating each world through her teeth.
"Oh god, Eddie, you're making me so hard.
Oh. Fuck.
It was too much.
Oh god, Eddie, you're making me so hard. It rang in my ears as I moaned out, my baritone voice suddenly stripped of bass. It pushed me over the edge.
My cock seized.
The head of my cock — which was throbbing and poking out high over the surface of the water — hopped in place and fired its first volley. My wife's head turned at once to follow the path of my first shot of come, her ponytail swinging behind her head, the tent in her pants shifting back and forth where she stood.
We both watched its forward trajectory.
Somewhere inside of me I had wanted deeply to make my wife come first, an expectation I held of most sexual encounters, and one that perhaps made me feel in control, and one that, in this instance, would absolve me of looking too eager to become a female. But control had given way to reflex in an instant at her exclamation, and I was coming first — all because my wife was growing a huge cock.
Even lost in reflex, it made me blush.
There was an ever-rising tenor in my gasps as my cock fired shot after shot of come from the steaming water of the bath. I longed for release; my balls were overfilled from the morning's proceedings. I had been dripping all morning, the only form of release my body could provide until reflex was sparked.
Two pretty pink pills, popped and powdered over my piping-hot pancakes. A provocative plan for a perfect pink pussy. Ingested and enjoyed. Working in silence as we opened gifts. Could it have simply been my wife's words and steady hand that had made me drip so? Or was my body already growing more feminine, turned on, and responding, trying to make me wet and ready for what was growing for me in my wife's flannel Christmas pjs?
She watched me with a smile. Watching me come. Watching me with knowing as I demonstrated what would soon define climax for her.
"Oh Eddie. Your breasts are budding."
Budding? I let out a long mmm and cast my eyes to my chest. My hair was already tickling my ears and neck. It had been cut short. Now it was halfway over my forehead. I was growing bangs. And evidently: breasts. My nipples were already so thick — and getting thicker. They rose — pink, craggy, beautiful feminine buttes jutting wantonly from the topology of my chest, so sensitive and desirous of a touch, any touch. Their boundaries, too, had grown. The flesh beneath them and in their proximity had puffed out while I wasn't watching, and now my two pretty, pink nipples were raised ever so slightly from my chest and growing
"Oh god." I reached a shaky hand to my left nipple and squeezed. A jolt of electricity shot through me from my nipple to the base of my cock. It seized, harder than I had been coming, and the resulting shot of come hit the ceiling above me. It held for a moment before succumbing to its own weight and dripping into the bath with a plop. The sperm spread out in the water, in a futile search. I looked back to the shower glass across the bath as I shot a new patch upon it. It was marked with my ongoing climax. Come coursed down it in slow, steady streams.
I twisted my hard nipple between my fingers. My nails were already over my fingertips, fingers already becoming daintier. I watched them pinch my nipple and bit my bottom lip hard. Every pinch seemed to tighten my cock. I watched the head hop above water, firing. There was so much. And it wasn't stopping. But now that I had touched my nipple, with each shot I felt a pain in the base of my cock, a building pressure. I watched my cock seize and fire, recoiling back, but, suddenly, instead of returning into position, it remained where it had recoiled. Each shot it sank a little further into the water, until finally it settled under the water into a cloud of white come.
I cupped my burgeoning breasts and looked at my wife. She stood, mouth agape, staring at the growing cloud of my come in the water and then looked at me.
Samantha was taller. Her shoulders had broadened significantly while I wasn't watching, her jaw squarer, her brow more defined. Her eyes moved up to my chest. I suddenly felt exposed. Vulnerable. Then I looked down at her pants.
The waist of her pajama pants was pulled from her tummy. That's how hard she was. How big. Hard and throbbing, the pants were pitched in a massive bulging tent. A large wet spot was clearly growing in the crotch and down the legs, saturating the flannel. My breath shook.
She caught and traced my gaze, looking down. She moaned, a recognizable steady baritone — still her voice, but huskier and smooth — and pulled at the waistband of her pants outward and down.
It towered from her satiny red Christmas panties, throbbing with her heartbeat, growing a little more with each pump. I was clearly turning her on.
Fuck.
She tangled the waistband of her panties in her fingers and pulled them down, revealing her new addition to the cool air of the bathroom as I looked on from the steaming bath.
Her crotch was still flat beneath her new cock, but her pussy had nearly closed. Her slit was fusing together — as if it were merely a cut, finally healing itself. A pink ridge remained, separating her lips.
Her balls hadn’t dropped. Her labia majora waited, ostensibly to be stuffed with two healthy testicles. Her crotch glimmered in the dim winter light, glazed in juices. It was clear she had been wet all morning. Her cock bounced. She was flexing her muscles. I felt mine seize again, painful pressure building at the base of my diminishing cock, which hers now dwarfed — and that was an understatement.
Her eyebrows arched at her new member. She moaned softly and turned, sliding her panties down her thighs further. She pointed above her cock. "Look Eddie. My clitoral hood is still noticeable." A little hood of pink remained just above where her new cock had sprouted. It was light pink and slowly fading from view.
She settled her hand on her mound, just above the base of her growing cock and dipped her middle finger into her fading hood. She made a circle and moaned. "Oh Eddie, I need to come." Her pants fell around her ankles as she circled what remained of her clit. She threw her head back and moaned.
I pinched my nipples and watched on, my hands now cupping two developing mounds of flesh. Her nipples poked through her shirt, which was beginning to pull tightly against her growing frame, but it was clear her breasts were shrinking. Our breasts would be the same size soon, only for a moment as they passed in the morning light of our bathroom on their two separate trajectories.
I could see that fingering the last vestiges of her clit made her cock swell with blood. It bounced with each heartbeat as her finger circumnavigated her disappearing female sex. I balked at her size, flexing my Kegel muscles. She was already bigger than I had ever been, and it was clear she was still growing.
There was a faintness in my pelvis, an uncanny feeling, as if a place was readying itself. I stared openly at her cock, trying to understand what I was feeling, a furnace of heat slowly building in my tummy. I wondered at her willpower, as I expected her to take her cock in her other hand, but instead she reached to her flattening chest and took her slowly shrinking nipple in hand through her shirt. She shook. Her cock swung free, a long string of fluid dripping from it to the floor.
The pressure built in my pelvis at the base of my cock; a condensing, urgent kind of pressure, one I could not place. This was a controlled demolition. A retraction. An implosion. A cloud of come coursed outward in the water. I was dry, my balls nearly empty, but what was left of my cock was still firing.
Samantha's finger sped up, her widening brow furrowing, as if trying to concentrate hard on a fact forgotten. "Oh, it's faint," she licked her lips. "It's so faint, Eddie." Her cock dripped in a long line down to the floor, clear, feminine fluid through the length of her thick, new cock. She bit her lips and moaned deeply, pinching her diminishing nipple and pushing her pelvis forward into her finger.
I pinched my nipples in concert with her. My nails were long now, my hands so beautiful and lithe. I cooed softly, now in alto, lower frequencies continuing to be shaved from the tonality of my voice as my vocal cords tightened in my throat.
It wasn't just my cock that was shrinking.
I was.
Oh, my nipples! They were so thick and were so wonderful to tug between my fingers and thumbs. The flesh beneath them was beginning to push into my hands as my dormant mammary glands came online. My chest gradually expanded into my hands. Filling them. Pushing them forward. The sensations were sending maddening jolts of energy into my pelvis, which felt like a battery charging up, a furnace building into a maddening heat — but for what? My hip bones pushed forward and widened. My spine was shifting low on my back, pushing my ass out. I bounced upward slightly as my ass plumped out and expanded beneath me. I knew that soon I would be sitting on two sumptuously cushy pillows. I bounced on my new padding.
I was filling out.
I could tell Samantha was turned on by the way her cock swelled in response to her finger. It felt dangerous having a cock that big so close to me, and my fear made it hard to take my eyes off it. Fear locked my gaze to her thick undulating cock, and thus married it to the arousal I was feeling from caressing and tugging my erect nipples. My nipples, my fear, and her cock were all amalgamating into desire, and suddenly, along with the fear, there was admiration. My wife had a big cock, the presence of which was causing the uncanny feeling in my pelvis to shift into an aching sense of absence I had never experienced in my life. I shifted on my plump and growing ass and traced the back of my teeth lightly with my tiny, velveteen tongue. My jaw felt light.
My wife's broadening jaw opened slightly as she bit her lip. Her eyes were closed, as if she was searching, tracing what was left of her female essence so she could come. I followed the thick veins up her shaft to the bulbous head which widened and thickened, then back to Samantha's finger, which was positively a‘flurry, spinning and weaving desperately over her retreating femininity.
She spoke. "Eddie?"
I pinched my nipples and held on. "Yes?"
"I'm close."
I breathed out. "Okay."
"Why don't you join me?"
I gasped, feeling the air punched out of me. My bottom lip fell, its composition now lavish and puffier, like it had been stung by a bee. I looked down, through the cloud of come in the water and released a nipple. My hand fell, fell to the smooth skin of my cleanly-shaved pubic mound. I planted my wrist and settled my middle finger into the area above my now two-inch cock.
"Oh fuck."
It was so faint.
I moaned and tried to lift my finger. But instead, I made one tight little circle there in my soft, pink hood my cock was descending into.
I moaned softly.
And then I circled it again.
And again.
I threw my head back and moaned loudly, my hair tickling my shoulders.
Why couldn’t I stop?
.
Thank you for reading!
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