"It fits just right. You were built for this, honey."
"You have no idea how true that is."
He probably meant that nature had given me a vagina so that I could be impregnated by a man but that old 3D printer had certainly done the job of giving me a pussy that could handle even a monster cock like the one that was stretching me out so marvelously right now. I had been on the job for about three months now and Sam and I had become pretty good buddies. Our banter had become increasingly suggestive and I suppose it had just been a matter of time before we stopped talking about fucking and actually fucked, although I'm not entirely sure why we had chosen this exact time and place to do it. I had suggested that we slip off to the little shed and Sam took it from there. Or more precisely took me.
There had been a little bit of frantic kissing, and I grabbed his crotch and felt his hardness. Then he spun me around, pulled down my shorts and my panties, and the next thing I knew I was up against the wall getting my brains fucked out by a total stud of a man. I was certainly collecting some juicy data for the folks back at the lab I thought.
This was only the second man I had fucked so far, but hardly the second time. Brent and I had fallen very naturally into a friends with benefits sort of thing without feeling the need to openly define it. Sometimes we'd just hang out, watching TV or a movie and sharing a pizza, and sometimes we just fucked, and sometimes we started out watching a movie and ended up fucking. I knew that Brent dated other chicks so fucking Sam wasn't cheating on him, although I'm not entirely sure that would have stopped me. Sometimes I got these really insatiable urges for sex. It was a little different than when I was a man. I used to be sort of perpetually horny all of the time. The slightest hint of something stimulating and I'd feel my dick getting hard. I didn't feel quite like that these days, but when I was in the mood I was really in the mood.
And it wasn't only men that I was becoming pals with. I had made my first female friend as well. Her name was Kate and she lived directly across the hall from me. I hadn't seen much of her at all since I had moved in but one night when I was getting ready for bed I heard a knock on my door. I was wearing my little pink tank top that barely covered my boobs and matching panties that I often wore to bed so I just looked through the security peephole to see who was out there. When I saw that it was Kate I just went ahead and opened the door without bothering to grab a robe or something.
Kate looked very nice, like she had just come back from a major date, but her smeary eye makeup showed that she had been crying.
"I really hate to bother you so late but have you got any ice cream I could borrow?"
"Hell woman, that's like asking if I have any tampons. Of course I have ice cream," I joked.
"I think I really need some right now," said Kate sadly.
"Well come on in. I hate to see a woman eat ice cream alone."
"Oh, shoot, did I get you out of bed?" she asked as she saw my attire.
"Naw, I dress like this all the time," I said with a laugh.
We went into the kitchen and I produced a large tub of rocky road and plunked down in front of us. Since I was having company I also grabbed a couple of bowls and spoons.
"Dig in," I said. "I've got more if we burn through this."
"I hate men," Kate said flatly as she began to devour her first bowl of ice cream. "I fucking hate them."
"All men or one in particular?" I ventured.
"That fucking asshole! Stupid me. I thought we really had something great going. He told me he had something very important that he wanted to discuss with me and that he was taking me to this really fancy restaurant to discuss it. Like a moron I thought maybe he was going to pop the question or at least suggest that we move in together so I got all dressed up and tried to stay calm while I figured out what I would say if he asked."
"I take it he didn't propose."
"Hardly. The exact opposite. It was a breakup date. He told me that he had fallen in love with another woman and wasn't going to see me anymore."
"Oh, honey, that's terrible," I said sympathetically as I placed my hand on top of hers.
"Wait, it gets even better," said Kate, the tears starting to well up in her eyes again. "The woman he's fallen in love with is my sister!"
"Ouch," I said with a genuine grimace.
I dated this girl named Cheryl a long time ago and was pretty happy until I met her sister Claire, who was the prettier of the two. Then I sort of became obsessed with banging the sister and started flirting with Claire every chance I got. I guess I wasn't too subtle about it and that it ended things for me with both of them. Kate was right. Men could definitely be fucking assholes.
"I should have known from the way they looked at each other and how they always kind of joked and flirted. When I mentioned it to Dave he just laughed and told me not to be paranoid," Kate recounted as she refilled her bowl.
"I take it Dave is the fucking asshole in question?"
"Yeah. Dave Kline. I was actually thinking on the way to the restaurant how much I liked the sound of being Kate Kline, and the double K initials. Not that I would have married the guy just for that, but he seemed so wonderful and sincere. He sure had me fooled."
"Sounds like maybe you need something a little stronger than ice cream to chase away the blues," I suggested as I opened the cupboard that served as my liquor cabinet.
"No, that's okay...but I think you may have to open another carton soon," Kate replied, trying to force a smile.
She had stayed a little longer and we chatted about this and that, trying not to dwell on her unhappy situation. My heart really went out to her. It must have been quite a blow going from thinking that a guy might be showing you a ring to realizing that you were getting dumped for your own sister. On the whole I thought Kate was holding up surprisingly well. When she finally left I hugged her tightly and told her that everything was going to be fine and that she didn't need a creep like that in her life. Those were the unusual circumstances under which we had met, but we had become pretty good friends ever since.
"Yeah, baby, yeah...yeah...oh, yeah...fuck yeah...fuck yeah!"
My insanely intense orgasm snapped my thoughts back to the pussy pounding I was getting from Sam. My forearms were resting on the wall and I was jerking my butt back and forth as hard as I could, as if Sam needed any help in getting his big cock deeper inside me. I was getting pretty noisy but I honestly couldn't help it. I had never felt this kind of sexual pleasure in my life. I wondered if I had ever made a woman feel this good. If I had she hadn't shown it quite as vividly as I was doing.
"Uh...uh...uh," Sam growled with each spurt of his hot jizz that he deposited in my wet gash.
A moment later we heard noise outside the shed and realized that the crew was coming back from lunch. Sam jerked his rod out of me and we both made a mad scramble to get our pants back up. There was no time to bask in the afterglow.
"You go first," Sam suggested.
I looked around and grabbed a box of nails before heading out the door. Hopefully nobody would think there was anything odd about me coming out of the supply shed with some sort of supplies. I have no idea how long Sam waited in there before making his exit but when I saw him later on the job I just winked at him and blew him a little kiss. He winked back and it looked like we had gotten away with it. I was a bit hungry for skipping lunch but it was by far the most I had ever enjoyed a lunch break in my life. I'd rather be full of cock than food any day of the week.
CHAPTER 10:
The first six months of womanhood had flown by so quickly it hardly seemed possible that I was an 1/8th of the way through the process. It seemed to me like I was still just getting started, but it also felt like I had been female much, much, longer. That probably sounds like a big contradiction but it's not quite as odd as it seems.
I was living in a new apartment, in a new city, working a new job. There was very little in my daily life to remind me of my previous one, which of course was all part of the plan. Tha
t made me feel more like the new girl in town than just a new girl.
I had all new friends, lovers, and co-workers, some of which were a mixture of all three. They only knew me as a woman named Jean, or Jeanie as I was pretty regularly being called these days. There was no one to shoot the shit with about the good old days when we did this or that. The world obviously saw me as a woman and had no clue that I had ever been anything else, or was planning to be something else again in 3 1/2 years. That made it so much easier for me to feel the same way. The longer I was female the more natural it felt and the more comfortable I became with the concept.
Obviously I can't say that I loved every little thing about the experience so far. I hated shaving my legs with a passion and the first time I had a period I wanted to call the whole thing off. Being far more worried about my appearance than I ever used to be I spent a lot more time and money trying to look my best. As far as being ogled and looked at frequently I had mixed feelings.
I thought it was going to be a big problem at work but instead found that I was ogling the men just as much as they were ogling me, if not more so. And the guys there made plenty of crude jokes, but they did that about everyone and I was quite capable of holding my own in that department.
In other situations if a cute guy was giving me the eye I might give him a smile or even flirt a little if he was bold enough to approach me. If it was some creepy-looking old guy it just kind of freaked me out. I realized pretty quickly that it didn't totally matter how I was dressed. If someone was going to look they were going to look, but if I wore something especially revealing or suggestive I should count on getting looked at a lot. Personally I tried to turn it into an ego boost thing. If I was trying to look hot then it was mission accomplished if I was turning heads. It just took some time to get used to the whole idea. If some guy was staring at me in a bar when I was a man I would probably assume that he wanted trouble. If some guy was staring at me in a bar these days I assumed that he was thinking about how nice it would be to fuck me.
Having Kate as a friend had been a real joy. Unfortunately she traveled a lot for work, which was why I hadn't seen her around the building all that much at the beginning, but whenever we had some time together it was always a blast. I learned so much from her without even having to ask a lot of questions.
Fortunately she had gotten over being jilted by her boyfriend pretty quickly, and the dickhead wasn't even seeing her sister anymore so there was little chance of her accidentally bumping into him. It created some serious friction between Kate and her sister but I guess stealing boyfriends was something they had both done over the years so it obviously wasn't a fatal rift in their relationship.
I also discovered that Kate could be kind of a drama queen. Everything that happened in her life was easily magnified or blown out of proportion. She seemed to slide from one supposed crisis to another but always bounced back, and many times it turned out that she had been worrying about nothing. I learned to keep a large supply of ice cream on hand just in case. That was definitely a gal's go-to for depression it appeared, and I did find it useful myself every now and then.
It was funny the way people reacted when they found out what I did for a living. At first they'd always laugh, thinking that I was joking, but when they realized that I was serious they'd give me a weird look or as why such a pretty girl would want to do such a dirty job surrounded by a bunch of men all day. I was always tempted to say that I liked it because I was a dirty girl who enjoyed being surrounded by men, but I usually just gave them a straight answer.
I think it's quite possible that I was becoming a dirty girl who enjoyed being surrounded by men. In addition to Sam there were a couple of other guys at work that I had fucked, not on the job, but after work, and I knew that I must be developing quite a reputation with the crew. There was nothing serious between me and any of the guys at work, some of whom had wives or steady girlfriends, but that worked well for me anyway. It was just sex and it was just fun.
My apprehension about giving head had also long since faded away and now I was quite the cock sucker. I still had trouble handling a guy as big as Sam but I could take Brent all the way down until my lips were touching his balls. And I really didn't worry about whether I was doing it because my brain thought it was a very girly thing to do, or whether I was doing it because I had some long repressed desire to have a dick in my mouth. What did it matter really why I was doing it? I found that I enjoyed doing and the men I blew sure seemed to enjoy having me do it to them.
That was another kind of a mini revelation for me. I found that I really wanted to please people these days. Not just men, and not just sexually. I felt almost a craving for appreciation and approval sometimes. I felt a really strong need to not let anybody down, and an instinctive desire to put other people's needs ahead of my own. I don't think I had been a particularly selfish man or a guy who didn't give a shit about others, but my desire to please had never been this pronounced.
"It's actually quite a common trait in many females," Dr. Farnum explained when I mentioned my feelings during one of my reports. "A research team over at UCLA came up with the term 'tend and befriend' to describe the way women often seek out friends and support when under stress. It seems to be linked to biology and the way men and women tended to behave in ancient times when faced with a crises or some kind of stressful or threatening situation. The man's natural inclination is to confront the problem, even by physical force if necessary. It's why men often feel the need to prove their masculinity by showing off their strength or power. Since we're not fighting off other cavemen with clubs anymore this often takes the form of sports or some other innocent physical activity. Women, on the other hand, have tended to look for or provide comfort in those tense situations, and often try to use kindness and gentle behavior to prevent the crises from happening at all. And society, in general, views nurturing as a typically female trait, largely because women are the only ones who can give birth. Consequently it's viewed more favorably in women than in men."
"So I try to be nice to people because I secretly want to have a baby?" I asked.
"Not exactly. It's really more a question of the way we're all programmed by genetics to think, behave, and respond in various situations. As a man you probably felt a desire to be strong, powerful, and assertive. You might even have felt that being too compassionate was a sign of weakness," said the doctor.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that," I admitted.
"Well, now you have different feelings. You have a different kind of strength and power that you demonstrate in different ways. It's likely more mental and emotional than physical. We see the differences in men and women everyday but we don't always stop and think about them too much or how things got that way. Unless you're someone like me who's paid to do that, of course," the doctor said with a small chuckle.
That was really true, I thought, even in totally trivial things like choosing what kind of a movie to watch. I used to be really into action movies, and still could enjoy them, but I had noticed that I was much more interested in things like romantic comedies than I had ever been before. Stuff that I would have dismissed as a "chick flick" actually did hold my attention much better now that I was a chick. I'd even glance at the women's magazines that were always lying around when I went to have my hair or nails done or something.
Once again I came away feeling better about myself knowing that a lot of what I did or felt these days was simply because some guys in a lab tweaked my DNA. Even if I wasn't deliberately trying to "act" female my genes were doing the job for me. That gave me some comfort except for one big problem. I was finding that I kind of liked myself better this way.
CHAPTER 11:
"Look, I know this is a totally gross question to ask, and completely inappropriate, but I'm really curious. Do you swallow?" I asked Kate one afternoon as we were sitting in my kitchen eating ice cream, more for pleasure than as a cure for depression this time.
"Of course I swallow," sh
e replied with a crooked smile. "How else would I be packing away all of this ice cream?"
"No I mean do you swallow...you know...when you're with a guy?" I said apprehensively.
"Oh, that kind of swallow," Kate said with a laugh. "That's usually a question I hear from a man not a woman."
"Fuck, I shouldn't have brought it up," I said feeling my face turn red from embarrassment.
"Hey, I don't mind talking shop when it comes to sex," she said, patting my hand reassuringly. "I take it the question has come up in your life recently?"
"Well, I've never been quite sure how to handle that. I mean I go online and read about it and half of the people say they would never do it, and the other half say it's like the best part of a BJ. I know men like it, but I've been kind of scared to try it for some reason."
"Scared to swallow the hot sticky goo that shoots out of the end of a man's penis? I can't imagine why you'd feel that way," Kate joked sarcastically.
"I mean I've tasted it. I've had it in my mouth, I've just been reluctant to actually gulp it all down. But it seems kind of rude to spit it out so I've just been trying to do it on the sly when the guy isn't looking," I confessed.
"I guess it depends on the mood I'm in and how I feel about the guy. When I was in love with Dave I swallowed all the time. I guess I sort of wanted to show him how devoted I was, or something. If it's a quickie with some random stranger, who knows?"
"How often do you have quickies with random strangers?" I inquired, slightly surprised by the concept.
"Well I travel a lot on business and sometimes I get to feeling really horny on those trips. Once in a while I need to let my inner slut loose, I guess."
"I don't know how inner my slut is these days," I said with a grin. "I seem to be pretty slutty most of the time."
"It sounds like maybe it's time for a girl's night out," Kate suggested.
"What did you have in mind?"
Getting the Job Done Page 4