Compromising Positions: A Fantasy

Nathan sighed, consoled. But he took the hint as well. Apparently his wife was looking for more than a nice lunch and a chance to tease her husband a bit. Just how much more, he was not sure. Still, she was right. Erin's outfit was very distracting and the older man could not help but let his eyes drift over it, now and again.

He enjoyed those long, satin-clad legs of hers. He liked the fit, yet shapely calves that drifted downward to equally feminine, equally beautiful feet. Whatever else happened this afternoon, he now knew what sort of outfit he was going to request Cynthia wear when they were alone.

That is, assuming they were alone. He looked back to his wife, and then to Erin again. As they chatted about their lives, jobs and upbringing, he could not help but indulge in a little fantasy himself. Whatever would his wife think of watching him, on bended knee, tending to Erin's beautiful toes?

"Honey?"

'Wh- what? They're nice, I admit it and-" he coughed, interrupting himself before he stumbled out of daydreaming male and right smack into blithering fool. "That is, what were we talking about?"

Cynthia's face grew warm and she leaned in, "I was just telling Erin how we met at a conference. You know, Improving Communication Between Management and Staff?" She giggled a bit, waiting, as Nathan pulled out a chair for her. "He had gotten into a little trouble for making one of his supervisors cry."

The little hotel dining area was quite beautiful. Instead of hiding within the dark recesses of the hotel itself, it was out in the open, embracing the surroundings and making use of the architecture as well. The fountains had an Aztec influence, but subtle enough not to seem too costumed or theme-driven. Plenty of shade, plenty of room, couples were all about, sharing meals and enjoying the view.

More than a handful of those couples were especially sharing the view that was Erin and Cynthia.

"He was wrong, and besides, I think he was a little sensitive." Nathan scoffed, "I didn't even raise my voice."

"Oh yes, sensitive. He was ex-military, Nathan." Cynthia rolled her eyes. "At any rate, Nathan's firm decided they had been overlooking this rabid wolf of theirs and perhaps, with a bit of domestication, they could put his talents to good use."

Nathan sighed, "I was happy with my little cubicle."

"You were hiding in your little cubicle, that's not the same thing." She stuck out her tongue and crossed one leg over. Nathan, for his part, was carefully pulling out Erin's chair and gesturing for her to settle in at her leisure. "Anyway, he met me, the youngest speaker at the conference. What was my topic again?"

The older man sighed, though there was a definite fondness to his voice. "*Getting What You Want*. I should have known what I was in for."

Cynthia leaned back, one foot sliding up and just, ever so slightly, brushing against Erin's own. "Oh honey, you knew exactly what you were in for, and you loved it." Turning back to focus on their beautiful guest, she gave another one of those conspiratorial smile. "Nathan's problem is that, even when he knows what he wants, he holds himself back and lets the opportunity pass him by. That's where I come in. I was not about to let him leave that conference without having a look at my hotel suite. And then, I showed him the other things he wanted to see, but did not quite know how to ask for."

"So, drinks? Maybe some chips? I know what you'll be having," he eyed his wife, "How about you, Erin?"

Cynthia only giggled, "I seduced him, married him and now, I keep an eye out for things he might want, without quite being able to come out and say it." Her foot drifted a bit farther up Erin's leg, hidden by the table. "And along the way, I get what I want, too."

Erin's lips curved in a slow, sensual smile as she nodded agreement with Cynthia. Feeling the blonde's small but perfect toes brushing softly against her legs was having a distinct, marked effect on her; it seemed as if every nerve ending was alive with tension. Her pupils dilated slightly and she locked eyes with Cynthia for the barest fraction of a second.

"I believe I'd like a pint of bitter to start, please," she said at Nathan's suggestion. She was enjoying this chance encounter more and more with every moment. For all his gruffness, Nathan was carrying off the role of the host perfectly, and she felt herself relaxing mentally as her body responded to the cues of her new friends. "Nathan, could I impose on your hospitality to the extent of lobster and salad?"

She shifted her long legs slightly. "Cynthia, I was thinking I might just nip into the powder room briefly, before lunch arrives. Could you show me where it is, here?"

Cynthia broke into a wide smile, before biting on her bottom lip. Her voice came out, a bit of a wet, whimper, before slowly tumbling back to its full and bubbly force. "Why yes, I think we should. It would not do to dine with un-powdered noses, would it?" She looked up to Nathan, "Lobster and salad sounds good too, right dear? You did save up all of your pennies for this trip like a good boy, yes?"

Snorting, the older man lifted his sunglasses, just looking at his wife. He said nothing, his eyes on her. He could tell from her tone of voice and the bite of her lip that she was terribly excited about... something. Dark eyes took in his wife and his lover, swallowing her up, for just a moment or so.

The younger woman began to warm under his heady gaze. Her cheeks burst into little blushes and she could not help but clear her throat. "I- I can pay for it, sweetheart."

Nathan let his sunglasses fall and shook his head, "We'll share the burden, like we share everything else." He smiled her way and then leaned in to whisper to Erin. "She makes about double my salary."

Getting some of her indomitable spirit back, and apparently having very good hearing, Cynthia retorted, "Which means that technically, the lobster and salad are on me. Which means if anyone deserves a reward for a fine meal, it'll be the cute blonde with the tan."

With a little sassy sway to her hips, she stood. In what seemed to be half flirt and half rebellion, she stuck her tongue out at her husband, before offering her shoulder to Erin. "Shall we retire to the powder room while the man folk sees to our order?"

Erin watched the by-play between Nathan and Cynthia; the deep affection they had for each other was evident from the playful teasing. Her seeming bashfulness under his rock-steady gaze told her quite a few things as well; for all that Nathan was content to let his beautiful bride take the lead in many things, she would not ride roughshod over him, nor he over her.

She followed the petite, bouncy blonde to the ladies' room, watching that pert bottom moving in a complex rhythm. Cynthia was clearly anticipating more than Erin's company for her and Nathan over lunch, and the redhead was becoming more and more excited herself. She glanced downward briefly as the two women entered the ladies'; the filmy, gauze-like material of her dress was pulled tight over the smooth, proud curve of her bosom and two round bumps in the taut fabric made her arousal obvious to anyone who glanced her way. Under the skirt of her dress she could feel herself swelling, threatening to overwhelm her silver lamé panties.

Fortuitously, the powder room was empty, and Erin quickly flipped the deadbolt as the door closed behind them, to guarantee Cynthia and herself a few moments of privacy. Before things went much further, she needed to be sure of her ground with Nathan's lady.

"You know, don't you?" she asked, leaning against the door. No point in beating around the bush, she had decided. "You saw when I was lying on the lounger." She cocked her head slightly, watching Cynthia's eyes, her stance, the set of her body. "Now you know why I'm still single. Men - or women, for that matter - who like girls like me are scarce." She smiled, a wry twist to her lips, her emerald eyes momentarily shadowed. "Not too many of them can cope with me. None that I've met, so far."

She took a step toward the cocky blonde, held out her hand in mute invitation to her, palm upward. "You saw and you didn't pull yourself away... just how interested are you? And does Nathan know?"

"What Nathan knows is that his wife may very well be on her way to delivering him the fire-haired, long-legged beauty of his filthiest daydreams." She smiled, her hand sliding into Erin's own. "As least, I think he knows this unconsciously. Consciously, I believe he is playing that game all good little boys play on Christmas Eve, when they wrap themselves up in guilt and fear, trying to deny that they will get any present at all. Fixing on an image of a stocking full of coal, they are really just protecting themselves against possible disappointment."

"The fear is universal." The blonde gestured, moving just a bit closer. "The guilt is Catholic."

Closer still, and then, slowly, the spirited fey of a wife began to slide down, "Me? I knew I was going to find someone on this trip. Someone beautiful, tempting, someone I could seduce and wrap up for my Nathan, with a pretty pink bow." As she spoke, she finally settled on her knees, looking up to Erin with a tilt to her head.

"Some women offer up their virginity on their honeymoon, thinking it a gift worth giving." Her hand slid up, slowly, trailing along Erin's silken stockings. "What they end up giving their husband is a lifetime of doubts, regrets, and never quite being sure that they made the right decision."

Her hand danced from that firm calf, up, teasing in a slow circle just behind her playmate's knee. "But I knew I had made the right decision. I knew what I was giving up, and I knew what I would not be giving up; not for any man, no matter how much I love him."

"At least, I thought I knew."

Cynthia's hand move up, slowly, moving along the edge, where stocking melted into flesh, where hidden, a heated bulge lurked. "Now, I find out that there is something I had never tried; a flavour I had never tasted. How could I possibly be worth the ridiculous amount Nathan spent on my ring, without giving it a lick?"

The woman's eyes were lidded, bedroom eyes, and her voice had become wet, even needy. "Lift your skirt, Erin. I want to see just how interested I am." Her tongue slipped out, running along her bottom lip, making it glisten. "Then we can talk about what my husband is going to know after tonight."

Erin's smiling eyes locked with Cynthia's, her lips parted slightly as her breath caught slightly in her throat. "I'm not sure what I find more... enticing... the prospect of fulfilling his fantasies, or discovering yours, Cynthia." Slowly she slid a hand down her stockinged thigh until it rested atop the blonde's, softly tugging her hand so the palm rested against the fabric-covered fleshy mass.

"The 'flavour' is called 'futanari'," she said, her voice low. She continued holding Cynthia's warm, soft hand cupped under her groin, and lifted the hem of her dress, revealing the panty-shrouded bulge. "Some call us 'dickgirls' or 'shemales', but those terms are, well, imprecise... and unkind," she went on. "Some of us are transgendered; some of us are true hermaphrodites."

She let the skirt fall again, her face becoming troubled. "Are... are you sure you want to do this, go down this path, not just for yourself, but your husband as well? Even among futanari, I'm... rare." She looked down at Cynthia's beautiful, pixie-like face. "I want to be with you both very, very much, but..."

"I won't deceive you," she declared. "*This* is what I am." With that, she removed her hand from Cynthia's and with a smooth, sudden movement, slid her silvery panties down to her knees, revealing her true nature. A smooth, hairless scrotum swung between her thighs, two large testes making twin bulges of the fleshy sack. Above it, where one might expect a penis - if one expected a penis at all - was a wide, fleshy protrusion, only three or four inches long, but easily six across... and within its opening, a glistening, wide flange of flesh, a light mottled grey in color. "If you want to back out, I'll understand," she said, bracing for the shudder of horrified revulsion she knew would follow.

Cynthia's eyes widened, and the blonde woman tumbled backward, onto her heels. A hand flailed back and caught herself before the fall had turned catastrophic. Not once did she allow her gaze to wander from the sight before her. It was everything she could do not to squeal. In fact, the woman had to bite into her bottom lip, hard enough to make it flush red under her girlish lipstick.

"Oh god, oh god, ooooh Erin!" She groaned, her voice taking on an uncharacteristically solemn tone. It was almost worshipful. Her hands danced upward, along and then under the impossibility before her. "It's real, and it's warm, sooo very warm." She leaned in for a closer look.

Her painted fingernails danced under it, giving it a little lift, as though trying to guess the weight of it. "I knew I saw something bu- but, I never expected thi-" Cynthia blinked, getting a firm grip on herself as well as the delicious treat before her. "I- I'm sorry, Erin. Here I am, a kid in a candy store, and there you are, all afraid I'm going to reject you or scream or...."

She simply smiled, as warm and tender a smile as her husband could ever hope to receive. Moving in, the young woman placed a soft kiss along the tip of the mottled grey possibility within, knowing it was nowhere near its fullest potential. Then, playfully, she took her lick, a long and hungry lick.

"MMmmm, I like futanari flavour," she breathed, her voice full of sinful promise.

Erin's breath caught in her throat when Cynthia exclaimed and fell back. She could tell right away that the blonde woman was utterly repulsed by the sight - at least she had bitten her lip, kept herself from unconsciously uttering the first shocked, horrified words that leapt to her lips - but she wasn't horrified, the redhead realized. Cynthia's hands were not snatched back in fear of contamination from whatever unholy thing was sprouting from Erin's loins; in fact, those small, warm hands were cradling her, caressing her, and she was leaning closer... then she felt Cynthia's lips brushing against her followed by her tongue caressing, teasing the retracted organ, and she closed her eyes, a soft moan escaping her lips as she slumped against the door.

"God...," she breathed as she heard Cynthia declare her taste for futa. "Oh... my... god...!" She flexed her legs, trying to spread them further, only to realize she was hobbled at the knees by her panties. Her legs quivered; she felt slow, languid trickles of pleasure run down them from her loins. Through pleasure-slitted eyes she looked down where Cynthia still knelt between her legs, her nimble tongue hovering bare fractions of an inch from the waiting, sheathed organ.

"Will Nathan be okay with this?" she asked.

Cynthia simply smiled, looking up at the unique woman, leaning hard against the door, trying to catch a breath that was quickly being stolen away. She noticed that Erin was somewhat caught by those panties at an awkward stretch between her thighs. The blonde liked that, liked the thought of this woman with her enchantingly powerful organ, being caught, even trapped.

She reached down and pulled the panties a bit more, till they were just around Erin's knees.

"So very sweet of you to be concerned about my dear Nathan." She moved in and laid a kiss along her companion's inner thigh, brushing her cheek against the organ. Then she turned her face, letting those lips of hers dance over the sheath-like flesh, her breath warm and sinful all about it. "And I can't promise you he will be into this."

Her fingers moved back up, continuing to stroke along the flesh that hid much of the expected girth. "But if you think I'm leaving this bathroom without at least seeing just how big and plump this beast of yours gets, then you have a lot to learn about me, Erin."

She looked up, gripping around the flesh, tightening. "I told you, sweetie, I gave up on some things when I said my vows, but not everything. If you are a good girl, I'll tell you about the night I spent with my maid of honour, while Nathan was off with his friends, watching implants jiggle and being bored."

"I very much want to learn more about you, and about your handsome Nathan," Erin replied in a throaty voice. "I just don't want to... cause a problem between you." She pressed her shoulder blades against the door and arched her back, pushing her hips forward. Cynthia's small, skilled hands on her sheath were waking intense pleasure in her body.

Under the blonde beauty's ministrations, her equine lady-cock began extending from the fleshy pouch. Within moments the flared glans had emerged followed by five or six inches of glistening penile shaft, with the promise of more to come. The meaty organ was not yet hard, and curved downward in an elegant arch. The skin of the shaft was very smooth and soft, and glistened wetly as more of it slithered out. It was mostly a light grey color, but there were small mottled patches of black and pink skin, including a heart-shaped pink patch on the right, about eight inches behind the wide knob. Her skirt, which had fallen to just below her sheath, was now draped artistically over the sheath and emerging member.

The redheaded stallion-woman looked down between her firm proud breasts, where her nipples were making distinct tents in the sheer fabric of her dress. She licked her lips in eager anticipation and her hands encircled her sheath, joining Cynthia's in encouraging her proud member to grow. It was drooping down toward her knees now as both women's hands caressed the tapering tube of flesh. Erin hefted the far end of it, began stroking from just behind the flared head down the first twelve inches of stallion, and in a voice husky with desire, encouraged Cynthia to continue working on her sheath and scrotum. "Oh my... please, keep stroking me... make me hard..." she moaned lustily.

Cynthia chuckled wetly, her eyes up to meet Erin's smouldering orbs, her fingers focused on the heat as it grew between her fingertips. "You let me worry about Nathan, dear. I-" The young woman stopped, blinking as she realized that the beast in her hand had grown far beyond what she could have predicted.

"Oh god, o- oh fuck, Erin. It- it's magnificent!" She let her eyes slip from tip to hilt as that cock extended, firmed and heated. The shape, she knew, was exotic, but it was the size that made her knees tremble and her bikini bottoms damp. "I- I had no idea this was even possible."

Erin's words pushed her farther still, leaning in and laying her lips to the side of it. She kissed along the edges, mouthing sensually, giving little suckling kisses. Every tease making it harder, larger, hotter than before, until she could feel the warmth radiating from that sensual flesh against her cheek.

She looked up to her companion, her excited center dripping. "E- Erin," she squealed, squirming from her position, worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth. "It's so beautiful but god, oh god, sweetie? I think this would ruin me. I've taken some monsters in my time, bu- but I'm not even sure if I could get my mouth around this."

Her voice was smaller now, softer, almost child-like. She had been so dominant before, but now, faced with Erin's cock, she felt like a little girl, gasping at the sight of her first cock, and puzzling just how it might fit. Of course, Cynthia had always been that peculiar girl who was eager to figure such things out.

Now, however, she wondered if she had maybe set her sights a little high. Perhaps it was possible to have eyes bigger than one's stomach. Or, for that matter, one's womb.