Date: Sun, 27 Jun 1999 00:53:08 EDT
From: Andrea Greenwood <andrea_greenwood@hotmail.com>
Subject: TG, Magic & SciFi: Peanut Butter Cup

DISCLAIMER:

This is a work of transgendered erotica.  The standard disclaimers
apply (be of age and legally able to read this).  I hope you enjoy
reading this!  Hugs-n-cuddles!  - Andrea

                        PEANUT BUTTER CUP

                       by Andrea Greenwood
                  andrea_greenwood@hotmail.com
       Copyright 1999, A. Greenwood.  All rights reserved.


Chapter I - Thief

     The tiny robot began to roll when it sensed the light in the
computer room had exceeded a preset limit.  The robot moved slowly in
order to ensure it was not attracting attention.  It moved into the
hallway, turned, rolled, turned again, and rolled into a darkened
room.

     The robot itself tripped a light sensor which then activated a
vibrating alarm under the pillow of Jules Langdon.  Jules quickly
turned off the alarm.  He reached under his bed for his 12 gauge
shotgun, and padded quietly toward his computer room.  He entered the
room, aiming the short barrel of the gun at the diminutive person
sitting in front of the computer monitor.

     "Raise your hands slowly!", he ordered.

     "Don't shoot!  I'm an elf."  The elf disappeared from the chair,
reappearing immediately behind it.  "I won't hurt you."

     "You're a thief!", Jules countered.

     "Aiee!!!!", he screamed.  He seemed to writhe, as if the
accusation had some power over him.

     "You've stolen chocolate and peanut butter from me.  Worse,
you've stolen computer and network resources from me."

     Jules understood the incongruity of the situation.  Oh, he would
defend his home with his life, but this elf didn't seem to represent
grave danger to him.  Nevertheless, this elf did invade his property,
an action well outside the construct of Jules' society.

     And this character's claim of being an elf was rather absurd,
though his ability to move in this peculiar way added credibility to
his claim.  His appearance, although humanoid, was a bit odd.  He was
a short and stout fellow, about five feet tall, sporting grey hair and
a grey beard and mustache.  His dark clothing appeared to be more
consistent with a renaissance festival than with contemporary society.

     The elf had a look of fear on his face.  "We must go back to my
home so I may stand trial.  You've accused me of being a thief, and by
my culture this is serious.  It must be resolved quickly, especially
when it involves the outer worlds such as yours."

     "How long will this take?"

     "A couple of hours, no more than that, I'm sure."

     Jules considered this was a Friday night, and being up late for
something surreal as this likely wouldn't be a problem.  He lowered
the gun, began to unload it, and said, "Let me put this away."


Chapter II - Trial

     In traveling to the so-called "inner" world, Jules learned the
elf's name was Hans.  He would be defended by a female elf - an elven
barrister named Skye.  The judge would be a Wizard named Crell.

     Hans brought Jules first to Skye's home.  They walked the short
distance to Crell's.  Skye appeared to be quite bright, and yet
disturbed by the situation.  She said little on their walk to the
Wizard's home.

     They knocked on the door to the Wizard's house.  He answered the
door, and they went inside.  Skye and Hans related the story to Crell,
at least as regarded the events as Jules knew them.

     When they were through, Crell looked at Jules.

     "Mr. Langdon, let me enlighten you.  We have very few laws in our
world, mostly because we like to keep things simple.  In your world,
our law would be called Natural Law; here we just call it law.  We
don't have any need for volumes of text elaborating explicit crimes,
we tend towards a set of basic principles.  In essence, it is against
law to harm another person or their possessions.  Theft is a crime
against another person.  Here, Hans has committed crimes against you."

     "And as with your world we have our process.  Again, it is
simple.  Raise charges against someone, we prosecute.  There is none
of what you call plea bargaining on crime reduction or sentence.
Either the crime is prosecuted and tried accordingly or it is not.
Now, we do bargain on whether a crime is to be prosecuted or not; if
you chose to do so, you may bargain in exchange for prosecution of the
crimes."

     "You have raised three charges of theft against Hans.  At this
point, in our process, you have not formally made these charges, but
you may.  If you do so, we will try him here, now.  We'll listen to
the case you present, Skye will have the opportunity to question you,
Hans may choose to defend himself, and you too may have the
opportunity to question Hans.  I will decide his fate.  Do you
understand all of this so far?"

     "Yes, I think so."

     "Good.  You need also understand that the punishment for theft in
our world is death."

     Jules suddenly understood Skye's solemnity.

     The Wizard continued.  "Yes, Mr. Langdon, death.  We take crime -
crimes against people - very seriously.  We extend that coverage to
crimes committed by our people in the outer worlds such as yours."

     Jules sighed.  "Okay.  So what happens if I don't prosecute?  How
do we handle that?"

     Skye spoke.  "We offer you something in exchange for not
prosecuting these crimes.  Gold, silver, whatever.  Would you like to
consider this?"

     "Well, yeah.  I hardly think the theft of chocolate and peanut
butter are worth losing ones' life."

     Hans muttered, "Ambrosia."

     Jules looked questioningly at Hans.  Skye spoke.

     "You see, we have neither of those items in our world."

     Crell elaborated.  "Today we have little trade with your world.
Few in your world believe in wizards and witches, elves and elvene,
faeries and pixies.  While there is some trade in ambrosia, there is,
unfortunately, theft."

     Jules continued.  "And what he did on my computer, while
'anti-social', did no harm.  I know he created an account for himself
on my system, and was exchanging email with others around the world
using my net account."

     "Hans!" the Wizard exclaimed.

     "They weren't outer worlders."

     Skye proceeded.  "So.  What would you like in exchange?  Gold?
Silver?"

     "How much gold?"

     "How much do you want?"

     "Really?  None."

     She looked at him in disbelief.

     "I do pretty well.  Look, I'm hardly rich, but I make good
money."

     She thought for a moment.  "Body parts.  A new nose - not that
yours is bad, but, well, you know some people like to alter things.
Intelligence?  Raise it a sigma or two?"

     "No!", he replied.  "I'm already a few sigma up the curve anyway,
that would just isolate me even further."

     Crell looked at him.  "I know what you want.  You'd like to be a
girl."

     Jules looked at the Wizard in silent shock.

     "There's a spell that's available that you might like.  You can
become a girl whenever you want.  'Clear down to the genes', I
believe, is what you've said in the past.  This will give you what you
want."

     "How do you know that?"

     "I'm a Wizard.  Hmmm..."  He looked off into space.  "I've
examined the spell.  Here are the terms.  You can become a female any
time you want.  It takes roughly an hour to turn either way, but the
transformation is complete.  You must, however, turn back within 100
hours or the change is permanent."

     Skye looked at him and smiled.  "You'll be perfect as a girl."

     "So you'd perform this spell?" Jules asked of Crell.

     "Oh no, it's one that's available, just manna in nature's domain.
I can transfer it.  A witch wrote it, that's her expertise.  It was a
curse, the control of which can be given to anyone.  Originally
control was held by the recipient's girlfriend.  You'd have control
over it of course."

     "What's this 100 hour limit?"

     "100 hours is the limit of the spell.  If you change back at any
time, you can reactivate the spell, and you're good for another 100
hours.  However, I wouldn't wait until the last few hours.  From what
I understand, the magick is such that you won't want to change back.
Once the time limit has passed, it's too late."

     "You mean I can never change back?"

     "Yes.  That's right.  You can come close, but it will only be
close, and that would require a new spell.  The witch who wrote this
is new magick.  She's powerful.  I am too.  But magick such as this is
as time's arrow; it works mostly in one direction only."

     Jules considered, "That doesn't make any sense.  I can change
from male to female and back again before the 100 hours.  I'll be the
same as before, yes?"

     "Oh yes.  Think of it this way.  Think of your audio CDs.  Analog
sound is recorded and stored digitally.  When you play it back, the
digitized recording is converted to analog sound again.  It's quite
good actually, but it isn't perfect.  If you compare the original
analog sound with the analog sound reproduced from the digital
recording you'll see errors, minor certainly, but errors nonetheless.
Digitize that and the recordings at the bit level will look quite
different indeed.  Each generation results in a change.  Now, back to
you and the curse.  In that 100 hour period, the original analog
version of you still exists.  After the 100 hours, it is discarded and
thus forever lost."

     "Why?"

     "Because it is costly to keep.  You see, part of the spell
requires the witch to hold on to the original form of you for that
time.  It's not terribly difficult to do so, but it does take some of
her energy."

     "So am I different as a girl?"

     "Of course you are.  Oh, you're basically the same, but not
quite.  If nothing else the matrix - the biology - is different.  Even
if an equally capable magician were to transform you to male, the new
male would be slightly different from this original you."

     "So as long as I watch the 100 hour limit, I'll be fine."

     "Ha!  She's a gifted one.  The transformation spell is
extraordinary, elegant in fact.  I'd advise you not to stay
transformed for any length of time.  A day is okay, two is perhaps the
limit.  Beyond that you will find little reason or desire to change
back.  By the time you've reached the limit, you won't even care.
When you've changed into a female, you will be completely female -
biologically, psychically."

     He continued.  "There is another serious biological aspect to
this too.  When you become female, you are at the beginning of your
menstrual cycle.  At 100 hours you begin ovulation.  Her spell won't
let you become pregnant and jump back to being male.  She may be new
magick, but she's olde school."

     "But is part of the spell something that makes me want to stay
female?"

     Skye spoke.  "No.  It's all natural.  Ovulation won't exactly
make you want to turn back.  I know guys are, uh, aroused much of the
time, and it's supposed to be intense.  It's different for girls.
It's longer, deeper, warmer, at least sometimes.  There are cycles
when you simply must be satisfied.  In any case you'll have a lot of
new sensations, the pleasure and novelty of which will not be waning
after four days."

     "And why the 1 hour minimum limit?"

     The Wizard replied, "That's roughly how long it takes to
accomplish the complete transformation.  It can't be stopped, but once
completed reversal can be immediately begun.  If it completes in 30
minutes, then you can convert back at that time.  It's simply that it
can take up to an hour."


Chapter III - Settlement

     "Okay, I'll take it," Jules said.  There was a sense of regret
that he felt, almost as though he'd lost the battle with himself.
Yet, he knew this was truly what he wanted.  He knew soon he would
realize his fantasy of awakening one morning to find himself female,
completely, genetically, psychically, 'clear down to the genes'.

     "Good," replied Crell.  He looked plainly at Jules and said, "It
is done.  To transform, simply say, 'Transform Peanut Butter Cup'
three times within a minute."

     "What an odd phrase.  Some magic, huh?"  He chuckled with
derision.

     "If you'd like, I can give you an obtuse set of commands.  This
seemed natural, given the situation.  You'll need to remember them
easily.  Besides, don't think this isn't powerful.  The magick is in
the spell, not in the words.  Do not underestimate what you have taken
in trade.  While you take this spell willingly, never forget this was
written as a curse against an unwitting recipient."

     "So now what happens with you folks?  Hans, you obviously still
want your ambrosia, your chocolate and peanut butter, yes?"

     "Oh yes, indeed!"

     "Is there some way we might effect some form of ongoing trade?"


Chapter IV - Mission

     "The mission is simple," the director said.  He stood in the
front of the small, darkened conference room.  Cool dry air circulated
about the room.  On a screen up front was projected a photograph of a
man.  "This is Sergei Langfeldt.  Jules, you know him, but Vincent I
don't believe you do."

     "That's right," Vincent replied.  Vincent Rye is Jules'
counterpart on covert operations.

     "You two will travel to St. Petersburg for the Linux World
Domination conference.  Sergei will be arriving from Moscow.  Vincent,
here's an infopac for you on Sergei.  You will meet him according to
the plans in this pac, and arrange a drop time for Jules two days
later."

     "Okay."

     "Jules, you'll travel under cover as Andrea Greenwood, Linux
hacker.  That'll be a real stretch, huh?"

     "Duh, what's a Linux?", he asked mischievously.

     "Your expertise in Linux will give you the cover you need.
You'll be a drop point for Sergei, who will give you a floppy disk.
When you return to the hotel, copy the complete disk image to a
partition at the end of the hard drive on your laptop, delete the
image, and destroy the partition.  Also, destroy the floppy.  Bring
the laptop back to the lab for reconstruction."

     "Dangers?", Vincent inquired.

     "Moderate risk.  Vincent you'll need to be especially alert
during the drop."

     "Importance?", Jules asked.

     "Important.  Abort if necessary, but don't be quick to do so.
Your lives are more important than the information, though not by
much.  Here are the details.  Jules, you'll drive to Raleigh-Durham
and fly from there to ..."


Chapter V - Cover

     Jules drove onto headquarters grounds, showing his ID to the
guard at the entrance.  He was now Andrea Greenwood.  Many of his jobs
had been accomplished in drag; the agency looked at this as a plus, as
Jules was quite passable en femme.  There were some situations for
which a change of gender was quite effective.

     This time was different, however.  Jules was fully female.  He'd
used the transformation spell a number of times, trying to understand
its nature.

     When he first returned home from receiving the spell, he
transformed immediately.  He spent all of Saturday and most of Sunday
testing the spell, converting back and forth, experiencing the
transformation and quantifying the results as best he could.

     Becoming female typically took around 53 minutes.  The experience
was quite pleasurable.  The body reshaped itself within the first five
minutes, though hair, nails, and skin changed over the remainder of
the time.  Changing back to male, though not painful, was draining.
As with the conversion to female, the body was reshaped within the
first five minutes, with hair, skin, and nails changing over the
remaining time.  Total conversion time was about 55 minutes.

     Jules drew blood tests for analysis to see what actually changed
in going back and forth between male and female.  Results from the
agency's lab showed the male samples to all be from him, but the
female samples to be from another individual, biologically close to
him but not the same.  He had the lab keep the female sample results
with his records.

     He also took fingerprints as both male and female.  Agency lab
analysis showed consistency of prints within sex/gender, but showed
them to be completely different between male and female.  The male
prints from multiple transformations were all the same, as were the
female prints; however, the male prints were not the same as the
female prints.  As with the blood sample results, he instructed the
lab to keep the female prints with his records.

     Jules interacted with people as a biological female.  He found he
enjoyed being female, and everyone accepted him accordingly.  He also
found he didn't like changing back to male, though once male he liked
being so.

     He was comfortable enough with the transformation spell to decide
to begin using it professionally as a form of cover.  Being a complete
physical transformation meant that the disguise was complete.  Where
before he was limited in using drag, as a transformed female he could
stand all scrutiny.  He would execute this next mission using the
spell.

     As he would need to be Andrea for the entire mission, he could
transform for a couple of days at a time, and then cycle the spell to
reset it.  No one would know the difference.  He wouldn't need to
shave his face every six to eight hours as was necessary in drag.  He
wouldn't need to work at softening his voice.  He wouldn't need to
worry about customs and immigration for either Russia or the US.

     Getting cover documents using the results of the transformation
spell was the final, irreversible step.  He'd get a passport, license,
credit cards, et al under the name of Andrea Greenwood, a common step
in his profession.  Yet, the photos would use his current visage, aged
backwards a few years thanks to the wonders of digital image
processing.  The agency didn't really care how he looked, but he would
need to stick to his chosen cover if he wished to succeed.

     "Click".  "Click".  He'd brought a change of outfits to present a
different look for passport and license photos.  A brutal afternoon of
cover processing completed, he returned to his car and headed home.
The direction of his next mission was now sealed.


Chapter VI - Preparations

     The doorbell rang.  Vincent stood outside Jules' house, waiting
for him to answer the door.  Soon the door opened.  A young woman
stood inside the door.

     "Hi!  I'm here to see..."  Vincent stood dumbfounded, trying to
assess what he was seeing.  "Jules?"

     "Andrea, actually."

     "Holy shit!  What in the world did you do, man?"

     "Come on in."

     Vincent was astounded, and Jules was enjoying the experience.

     "Jules - Andrea, what in the hell did you do, man?"

     "Girl, thank you, unless you hadn't noticed."

     "No shit, 'girl', and in case you are brain dead I did notice,
thank you very much."

     "Like it?  I had the hair done in a different style."

     "No I don't like it.  That's beyond a hairstyle.  What in the
world did you do?"

     "I've obviously tried something different.  Convincing, isn't
it?"

     "Yeah, it is.  Look, I've got to know.  No more games.  What did
you do?"

     Jules told Vincent about the Folk, including the spell.  He told
him about the limitations of the spell, its consequences, and his
experiences.  Most importantly he told him this was his cover for the
next mission.

     "Are you crazy?!  Look, this is dangerous.  What if something
goes wrong?"

     "Vinnie, how much better can a 'fake' female be than to be a real
one?  I can stand any and all scrutiny.  Besides, all of this work is
dangerous.  You do remember who are employer is, don't you?  Drink?"
Jules poured glasses of Lagavulin.

     "Thanks."  Vincent sat looking at Jules, as Andrea.

     "What's wrong?", Jules asked.

     "You know how I am when you dress in drag.  You're really all
girl in there, yes?"

     "Oh yes, clear down to the genes.  Come here for a minute."

     Vincent sat beside Jules, thinking of his friend and associate
only as Andrea.  Andrea wrapped her arms around Vincent's neck and
kissed him deeply, slipping her tongue into his mouth.


Chapter VII - Russia

     Andrea and Vincent arrived in Moscow on the same flight, though
their origination was from different cities.  They joined in New York
City for the flight to Europe.  They were processed through customs
and immigration on arrival to Moscow.

     Andrea gave her passport and other papers to the customs agent.
The agent glanced at Andrea, then at her passport, then at her.  He
glanced over at two military officers off to the side.

     "Miss Greenwood, would you please go with those gentlemen."

     Andrea's heart skipped a beat.  She was not expecting any
problems, least of all with customs.  She'd become complacent, and
that could cost her the mission.

     "Okay, is anything wrong?"

     "Please go with the gentlemen."

     As per the mission, Vincent could not appear to worry.  While
they were officially "friends" traveling to the same conference, they
were not officially "together".  Yet for his friend and associate he
was upset.

     Andrea wasn't terribly concerned.  They caught her off guard, and
that perhaps might even be to her advantage.  She was fatigued from
all of the travel, but was generally cool to the situation.  She was
carrying nothing that would betray her cover, and she could not be
directly tied to any intelligence activity.  She would of course play
along as a typical passenger to a super geek conference.  She'd been
Andrea for 36 hours; she was good for another 64.

     Within minutes Andrea was sitting in a windowless room, with a
table and three chairs.  She occupied one of the chairs, and a man in
a shirt and tie occupied one of the others.  He had identified himself
as military security; she knew what to expect.

     "Miss Greenwood, do you know the number in your passport?"

     "Ah, no," she replied a bit nervously.

     "We always ask but no one ever knows.  It is a rather obscure
number.  Your address, miss?"

     She replied cordially.

     "You travel a little internationally," he said, paging through
her passport, examining the immigration and customs stamps of her
cover history.

     "Yes, a little."

     "For work?"

     "Some for work, some for pleasure.  This one is actually a
combination, kind of a perk."

     "I'll ask the questions, Miss Greenwood."

     She gasped a bit.  She'd provided the additional information as
would any normal traveler.

     "You are going on to St. Petersburg?"

     "Yes."

     "For what?"

     "The Linux conference.  There's a Linux conference in a couple of
days."

     "The Linux World Domination conference.  I'm aware of it.  Are
you traveling alone?"

     "Yes, well, no, what I mean is that I'm meeting a friend."

     "Who is that friend?"

     She paused, then replied, "What's going on?"

     "We have word there is a spy attending this conference.  This spy
is supposedly a man dressed as a woman.  He is said to be going by the
name of Andrea Greenwood.  Although the cold war between our nations
is over, Miss Greenwood, espionage still occurs.  I'm sure you can
appreciate our need to protect our sovereignty."

     She smiled.  "I'm not the least bit male.  I can assure you of
that."

     "Likewise, I can assure you that you'll have ample opportunity to
prove that."

     "I want to call the US Embassy."

     "In due time, Miss Greenwood."


Chapter VIII - Exchange

     Two and a half days later, Andrea arrived at the conference hotel
in St. Petersburg.  At 9AM, she found Vincent in his room, and took
him outside for a walk.  Once outside and away from the threat of
surveillance, she broke down.

     "Vinnie, I'm just so drained," she cried.

     "Did they hurt you?"

     "No, they didn't.  I was treated fine, but they were all over me,
physically as well as mentally.  Of course I didn't crack, it wasn't
that bad, but I thought they had me."

     "When was the last time you cycled?"

     "96 hours ago.  Tell me the exchange isn't soon."

     "It's this afternoon at 2PM.  And you d-"

     "... don't have adequate time to cycle.  Yeah, that's what I
figured."

     "But we should abort it anyway, Andrea."

     "Why?  I'm here, you've set everything up.  We need to get that
disk.  We've got a job to do.  Ivan may have tried to upset the drop,
but they didn't stop it."

     "Yeah, but you need time to cycle.  That's easily 2 hours, and
you probably can't safely do it here during the day."

     "No, I can't.  So finding a safe place, cycling, and getting back
in time for the drop would be really tight, and practically out of the
question."

     "Do you know what that means?"

     "Yes, and we'd discussed it before.  To properly cycle I need
time and privacy, as well as proper cover.  It's not possible to do it
before the drop.  You know, there are far worse ways to spend one's
life.  I am alive," she emphasized.

     "I know, you just like wearing those cute little black dresses."

     "And you so enjoy seeing me in them," she grinned.

     At 12:30PM, Andrea attended a keynote speech on a new desktop
environment for Linux.  Her mind was focussed on the time and a few
simple words: Transform Peanut Butter Cup.  She said them once,
knowing that if she were to say them thrice within a one minute period
she could retain her male self, at least through this ordeal.  She'd
ruin the mission, but it was already in jeopardy; the place was
probably crawling with secret police.

     No, she thought, she couldn't do that, and she wouldn't.  This
was the cost of her job and thus her life.  She was paid well for what
she did, and this was simply one of the dangers of her work.  All
danger should be so easy.

     If she'd attended simply in drag, she'd likely be in a military
prison, assuming she'd still be alive.  The "curse" saved her life.
Yes, she'd miss being male some of the time, but "dead" is a far less
pleasant option.

     At 1PM, Andrea found herself suddenly transported elsewhere.  She
was in a room with considerable fog, though it was bright and it felt
dry.  Out of the fog appeared an older woman.

     "Hello, Andrea."

     "Hello."

     "I'm Tama, the Witch who created your curse."

     "Oh.  Hi.  Are you here to give me a second chance or to laugh at
me for failing?"

     "I'm here for neither.  I simply wanted to meet you.  I've
watched you, especially over the last couple of days.  It takes
courage and character to stick with a course as you've done."

     "I didn't have a choice."

     "Oh yes you did, and you chose well.  Continue to follow that
path and you'll someday drink from the Holy Grail.  You've done well,
dear.  I must go now."

     "Will we meet again?"

     "Perhaps some day."

     Andrea found herself back in the conference room, listening to
the drone of the keynote speaker.  In other circumstances she'd have
been quite interested in the topic; now however her mind was on the
drop and her new life.

     At 2PM, the appointed time, Andrea received the drop from Sergei.
The exchange was anticlimactic.  Vincent observed the exchange from a
strategic location in the main exhibition hall, noting no unusual
activity.  A short time later, Andrea returned to her room, processed
the disk as per her orders, and destroyed the floppy.  She lay down on
her bed and slept.


Chapter IX - Consequences

     "Hi Vinnie.  I hope it's not too late to call."

     "No.  It's only 9:30.  How are you doing?"

     "I'm doing well, actually.  And you?"

     "I'm doing."

     "Can you come visit me?"

     "I'll be there in two minutes."

     Vincent came to visit Andrea, who was dressed in a periwinkle
satin robe.  Vincent was wearing a button down blue oxford, blue
jeans, and sneakers.

     "Come here, Vincent."

     She began to unbutton his shirt, taking time to enjoy herself.
She removed his shirt, revealing his slim, slightly hairy chest.

     He looked at her, and saw that her robe was held closed by a
satin ribbon.  He pulled on the bow, which untied and opened to reveal
a deliciously feminine body encased in a white lace merry widow.  He
removed her robe.

     She unbuckled his belt and his jeans, and unzipped his zipper.
He removed his jeans and sneakers to reveal a pair of pink lace
panties.

     "Why Vinnie, I never knew.  We're gonna have some fun."

     "You- you don't mind?"

     "Ha ha ha ha!  Oh you're such a sweetie.  Let me show you just
how much I mind."

     She rubbed his engorged penis through the pink panties, kissing
it affectionately.  She drew his panties downward and gazed on his
penis.

     "Oh that's beautiful."  She placed her mouth over the head of his
penis, licking the tip and savoring his sweet pre-cum.  She held his
penis gently in both of her hands at its base, cupping his scrotum as
she took the entire length of his penis into her mouth.  She ran her
tongue down the length of his warm, salty shaft, feeling his urethra
with the surface of her tongue.

     Up and down she pumped on his cock with her mouth, enveloping it
with love and affection.  She kept moving against the sensitive nerves
at the top of the shaft, knowing how to make him hot and want more.

     She was sure to keep her lips firm against the purple skin of his
penis, stimulating all of the tiny bumps of his love muscle.  She
breathed deeply of his musk, and reached behind him to embrace his
buns.

     She raised her hands up to her lover's face, turning his head
downward, as she wanted to show him her pleasure and see his too.  She
couldn't get enough of his cock.

     Suddenly warm jets of semen shot into her mouth.  Cum shot toward
the back of her mouth, exciting her more.  She swallowed and
swallowed, and enjoyed every last drop.

     She trembled.  "Now that I've made you a man, I want you to make
me a woman."

     He began to kiss her, giving her his tongue.  He kissed her neck
as his hands moved up through her hair.  He began to kiss her breasts.

     She had ample breasts, not large, not small, but firm.  Her
nipples were erect, pushing against the merry widow, and her breathing
had become shallow and rapid.  Her waist was narrow, above hips that
were nubile and inviting.

     As he began to help remove her garment, he became erect again,
almost as though his penis were possessed.

     "Oh give it to me now, Vincent."

     She drew her legs upward, spreading them to allow his entry.  She
guided his penis into her vagina, filling her with his manhood.
Though she'd never felt anything like this before, she was hungry for
more.

     "Yes, yes, I want this now.  Yes, Vincent, you're the first."

     "You are too."

     "You will be the only one.  Oh yes, oh that's so wonderful."

     "And you will too."

     Vincent pumped his penis in her, enjoying the sensation and the
warmth of her vagina.  For once he felt natural.  He saw his penis
moving in and out of her vagina, in and out, in and out, his shaft
appearing between mounds of pubic hair.  He wanted more, he wanted to
be deeper into her.

     Andrea moved her hips against his motion, tightening her vagina
about his penis, feeling it moving in and out, in and out.  She moved
him upward toward her clitoris, increasing her own sensations, and
feeling hungry for more.

     Penis moved against vagina, slipping in and out, in and out.
Warm lubrication increased their stimulation, encouraging them to
urgency.  The tiny bumps of penis and vagina excited their bodies into
a rhythm old as time, and as new as a spring sunrise.

     Vincent's ejaculation exploded as though he'd not done so in a
month.  Her orgasm crashed at the same time, and she wrapped her legs
around him, drawing him into her as far as possible.  Semen shot from
the head of his penis, running about the face of her cervix, and
backward through her vagina.  Ejaculate rushed forth from her
clitoris, washing his penis in her own excitement.  His semen
overflowed her vagina, mixing with her fluid, and both collapsed in
ecstasy.

     Vincent remained inside Andrea for a few minutes, each savoring
their bodies.  Both were pleasantly spent.  Eventually they lay beside
each other, drifting off to sleep.

     "Andrea, we'll do okay.  We'll survive."

     "Yeah, I know we will.  Clear down to the genes."  She smiled.

                              THE END