Light from Dark

Her bush was trimmed into a narrow finger of fine, jet black curls which contrasted greatly with the ivory paleness of her skin. Her whole body was pale with no sign of tan lines whatsoever. Apparently she rarely if ever got out into the sun.

Just as he rarely did.

But even that somehow matched what he knew of her. She was a quiet girl, 19 years old like himself, most times without laughter falling from her lips or a smile in her eyes. She was serious, studious, and rarely showed any emotion at all. And now she stood completely naked before him, one knee absently drawn in front of the other, hands fidgeting, eyes lifting and quickly falling from his smiling gaze. Black nail polish still shone on her finger and toenails, but gone now were all the customary rings on her fingers as well as the piercings which normally adorned her ears, nose, lip and cheek. It was as if she had just stepped fresh from a long, hot shower and to tell the truth, having seen her in her gothic attire and heavy makeup, it was a refreshing sight.

—And quite revealing.

"...so now what?" she said softly. He shrugged.

"I...I guess we kiss 'n stuff," he said. "Do the whole 'make-out' thing—if you still want to, I mean."

She shrugged too, rolled her eyes a bit, but then nodded, apparently more to herself than to him. She stepped forward, arms coming up to wrap awkwardly around him, and he received her in the same way. She was only slightly shorter than he, being 5'10" and he, 5'11", so she lifted up just slightly on the balls of her bare feet. He still couldn't get over the fact that they were in this situation, kissing together like lovers and with her having so completely uncovered herself, but the pleasure of her lips against his took all his thoughts away.

When the kiss ended, which it never seemed it would, he stepped back, out of breath and began hurriedly to take his own clothes off. He had been so mesmerized by her own undressing that he'd forgotten to get in like state of dress and now raced to catch up.

"No hurry, you know." she whispered, and though he consciously slowed down and tried to relax he found it hard to do. This girl, Sheila, was probably the most beautiful female he had ever seen in his life and now he was to be naked with her. They would make out and kiss and touch and then they would fuck. He wanted to, and knew that she had at least a modicum of interest in it as well. She had never been overly demonstrative or emotional but at least she had let herself get this far and he eyed her as he got his things off, realizing that there was not a single part of her that was not alluring and breathtaking to see. Her face was beautifully oval with high cheekbones, framed with long, glistening, straight-banged raven hair; her neck was long like a model's; her shoulders were shapely and connected by high collarbones which showed prominently through her porcelain skin; her arms and hands were gorgeous and though she was nearly as flat as a boy tit-wise, the rest of her longish torso swept downward in graceful, feminine curves and proportions ending in her prettily trimmed crotch. Her long, shapely legs forced his eyes downward until they finally fell on her feet, which he had never seen bare before owing to the fact that she always wore combat boots and high, thick socks. The sight of them now brought his own excitement level up several notches.

Somehow her feet seemed even more naked than the rest of her because, though she had never gone around in the nude, various glimpses of her had always been available for view even while she was fully dressed: a flash of armpit through the sleeve of her shirt; a glance down her shirt, which, because of her flatness had revealed much more than cleavage; even a momentary look at the joining of her upper thigh to her crotch when she had sat that certain way while wearing those raggedy jeans-shorts.

But her feet had never been bare—ever.

Now he was naked and without shoes or socks. His erection stood up full and thick and hard, and he wished again (just as he had for years) that male bodies were less pointed and jutting and more subtle and smooth as their female counterparts. But that was the way he was made and now he had no need to hide his excitement. He glanced up into Sheila's eyes and smiled when he saw that she was gazing at his cock with both amazement and appreciation. Her eyes slowly rolled up from that spot and met his and then they both just stood there, smiling at each other blankly, each now too amazed and delighted at their situation to say anything. Finally she spoke out.

"We...we should make out or something...." she whispered and she stepped gracefully up to him and they once more embraced and began to kiss. But now as his cock lifted up urgently against Sheila's flat tummy, he wondered. He thought about what she'd told him—how honest and soft-spoken and sweet she had been while admitting what she had—and now he wondered when it would happen. He almost looked forward to it so it would be over and he would finally find out how he'd react.

But so far, nothing.

Their kissing began to take on a life of its own and thoughts of what he'd been told and how he would react when faced with such a thing faded quickly. It seemed that they were surrounded in a swirling cloud of golden light where everything was warm and soft and wonderful and silent. He could only make out the sounds of their moist kissing and their now increased rates of breathing as the excitement took hold of them both, and nothing else mattered. He held her tighter, closer, enjoying her sweetly flowery fragrance with each breath, the warmth of her pale, delicate body against his, and the softness and sweetness of the way her mouth and tongue moved against his.

But then the kiss ended. He estimated they had stood there kissing for nearly twenty minutes without stop and now, both of trying hard to catch their breath, he stood back and looked at her.

She most likely had been kidding, or at the very least, using what she'd said as something symbolic. A metaphor, maybe. Or perhaps it was her inner being she had referred to or getting in comfortable relationship with one's other selves, because there was absolutely no clue that what she had mentioned was literal.

Sheila noticed the quizzical look on his face and grinned toothily back at him.

"Oh..." she began. "I suppose I should show you now, huh?"

He was too mesmerized by the flowing curves of her white body to answer; too taken by her question to think. He had heard the question, though only vaguely, but then he noticed her simply move her right foot slightly further away from the left and that was when he noticed something move near the bottom of her neatly trimmed crotch. He looked up, amazed.

It was there!

A tiny cock now pointed out and at him. It was the same skintone as the rest of her and, as he stared at it he realized it was just as pretty as the rest of her.

A cock.

A penis.

But that's what she had told him before any of this had happened.

"'I'm really a guy.'" she had whispered confidentially at him at the club. Though they'd known each other for over a year, this had been their first official date. But he'd told her it didn't matter. Now that he saw the proof of what she'd said and knew the truth of it, he also realized that it really didn't matter. Perhaps any other cock would have turned him off but this one was small and delicate and quite feminine looking as it stood stiffly there, finally released from where it had been hidden between her shapely thighs.

"...so like I said," she said. "I'm...really a guy...."

He looked up at her, almost puzzled at what she meant now, because what he had felt while being with her and what he was seeing, even now, matched. There was no reality other than what he was seeing. She picked up on his expression.

"No, really." she said, and he glanced down at her little organ, then up again.

"No," he said. "You have a penis, but you're absolutely not a guy."

"But...."

"No." he broke in. "I don't know what sort of hormonal thing has happened or whether you did it yourself or were born that way, but...cocks aren't supposed to look that uh...girly, I guess you might say."

"Well...thanks." she said, now quite puzzled herself. She glanced down at her boner, then looked across at his and then back again at hers. There was a difference in size of course, and his was a little darker, but she had always considered hers just as manly as any other. She frowned now, as she considered this new point of view.

And as he stood there, his own cock throbbed up and down even harder than before, now that she had shown him the most secret part of herself. It was as if she'd put one foot up on a chair and leaned back and spread her pussy lips wide open for him to see, but now, thinking of a pussy and what would go into it, he began wondering and wishing he himself had such equipment. He thought of how he would make love to her now and frowned slightly at the thought of taking her beautiful little prick up his butt. It wouldn't hurt of course, being so small—no larger than his middle finger, in fact—but what would it feel like? He wondered, but even the thought of it made his dick lift up in excitement. He raised his eyes to hers and grinned.

"I...I guess we could go back to kissing." he said, and she nodded, glad to be brought out of her troublesome thoughts, and they moved together again. Before they embraced, she reached down absently and tucked her cock down and out of sight between her thighs again. When they pressed together however, he pulled his head back from the kiss and looked into her face.

"Just...you know," he said tenderly to her. "Just...let it, you know—stick out...."

Her bashful expression, quite out of the norm for her, instantly changed into one of utter delight.

"Really?" she asked.

He nodded.

* * *

Their kissing had changed and turned into eager, excited lip smearing and breathless tongue sucking after he had told Sheila to let her cock stick out bare, and as happens, their mouth to mouth kissing began to move into kissing of other kinds. Their mouths finally parted, rubbed and overworked, and began to kiss shoulders and throats and collarbones. She especially loved his prominent collarbones, so similar to her own. Her tongue dipped into the dimple between their inward ends and then ran downward to flick across his hairless nipples. Like her, his body was hairless except for a small thatch above the base of his cock, but for him it was by choice rather than an accident of birth; he simply did not like body hair. And then she was sucking his nipple and was at the same time being moved and guided by his hands around and over, until her own flat tit was pressed down against his sucking lips. She gasped at the tingling feelings pulsing up through her breast and then she was sucking harder on his, and for a long while that was all they did—nipple 69.

But then that moved into simultaneous mutual licking of each other's hairless armpits and then down and down until they were kissing each other's ribs and then lower. They tongued each other's navels for quite a long while, each squirming against the other as pleasure shot out in shivering rings from that point to the rest of their body. Several times during this long, slow movement downward across each other's body, they changed position; Sheila crouching over on top, or he doing the same. But now they had reached a particular point, a particular area that might prove to be quite a challenge—at least in his mind. He still wondered how he would react when it came right down to it, though so far he had not found a single pore of her body which even whispered that she was anything but a pure and true female.

Now she was on her back beneath him and as he moved down over her, her cock bumped the top of his head. He looked down between them and saw her gazing at his own stiffly hanging prong, just inches from her head now. He saw her reaching up toward it, and then he looked up, saw her prick standing, wavering in the air before him, and found he could not resist it. It wasn't a cock. He himself owned one and this thing sticking in the air before him wasn't anything like that. He opened his mouth and put his lips around its tip, heard a gasp and a sigh, felt the thing stiffen and almost slip from his dry lips, and then lowered his head and let it slide halfway into his mouth.

"...aaaww-maaa-gawww...." Sheila mumbled around the stiff, beautiful dick she now had in her own mouth. The pleasure of being engulfed in someone's mouth, in their body, was beyond description. She felt his lips pulling up, felt a warm, wet tongue now slathering moistness all over that area, then felt the mouth push down again, further than before. In a moment her organ was a completely swallowed up in his hot, moist mouth and she thought she might spurt the very next moment. Her legs moved restlessly across the carpet, her toes pointing, her knees bending and falling, but the mouth simply continued going up and down along the length of her prong, making the head of it bulge and seep. With limited room to move her head, she could only keep her lips tightly around his cock, rubbing her tongue around and under it and over the head as she lay there on the verge of orgasm.

She could hardly decide which was more exciting at this point, sucking or being sucked, but then, suddenly, the mouth slid off her throbbing prick and lips pressed to her right thigh. And in union with this change, the cock she had become so fond of, was pulled downward out of her mouth. It stood stiffly pushing down into her left collarbone, but now pale, smooth thighs were around her head and she turned this way and that, kissing and licking them eagerly, excitedly. She heard soft moans from far off, but the shivering explosions that were reaching up through her legs were forcing gasps and moans out of her and soon her own voice was all she could hear.

Now the lips and tongue traveled downward even more, to her knees, then down the shins. Her legs scissored in and out, no longer able to bend up at the knees because of the smooth body laying on them, but she licked what she could on her side as she tried to endure the pleasure rippling up through her insides. She had long known that her legs were extra sensitive, especially after shaving, but never to this extent. She knew this was most likely because she was not the one kissing and caressing them—though in fact she was quite able to do this herself, being naturally flexible—but knowing these things did not alleviate the almost unendurable pleasure she was feeling; it was all she could do to just lay there trembling when what the urge really was, was to get up and dance and sing for joy.

Then her ankles were being kissed and her feet pointed downward stiffly. Her toes gathered together in a pointed bunch as the lips slid down the instep of her foot. She cringed, eyes closed, fingers clawing absently at the carpet. Her whole body seemed to shudder and shake and her cock stuck up strong and hard and on the verge. She wondered if she could orgasm that way—simply by having her feet kissed like this—but then her foot, her left one, was pulled upward and rotated at the ankle and the sweet, warm, sucking mouth descended over her first-toe.

It was just about the same as having her dick sucked! She had done this very same thing to herself many times, but it had never ever felt this wonderful. The impression was that she was in someone else's body somehow; the feelings and sensations she was experiencing were that much more intense.

Finally he got down from above her and lay on his side, his mouth still working her bare, squirming toes, but now his own feet were right before her and she reached out and took one of them in her hands. She pulled it to her, smiling because of how actually pretty they were, and then she opened her mouth, fed the first-toe into it and started sucking. It felt way different than when she sucked her own toes, obviously, but even without the feeling of her lips gliding back and forth, the very act of sucking this pretty thing was enough to add to the excitement she was already feeling from having her own sucked. Once again her cock lifted up from its slightly saggy sidewise curl and poked straight out. She quickly tucked it down again but then instantly released it again to spring forth, remembering his request. She closed her eyes and mentally pulled the flush handle on all the other swirling, unimportant thoughts, and for a long, breathless eternity, she was nothing but a mindless sucking machine.

He had fallen in love with Sheila's legs the moment she had bared them for him, and her pretty feet especially. They had a certain vulnerable quality to them, and when he finally reached them he found that the tender, delicate look of them matched what they actually felt like. Sucking her small, shapely toes, he was reminded strongly of the other thing he'd sucked on for such a long while. It had been cock-ish but even now, after having brought it almost to the point of gushing, he could not make himself believe it was male or had anything to do with maleness.

He shivered now, feeling his own toes being so eagerly enjoyed. He remembered how that same mouth had fellated his dick and how he'd had to lift up and away because he'd been so close to squirting, but now the feeling was almost the same. It was as if the sensitivity of his prong had spread outward through his groin, his chest, down his leg and had even gotten inside his toes, and as the girl—for that was the only way he could think of her—sucked, it seemed that she was sucking his nipples and dick and tongue and fingers and everything else between, all at the same time. His mind wandered back to that moment, the one in which he'd finally seen the truth Sheila had wanted to show him, and all the swirling, zigzagging thoughts and ideas that had come to mind then. He had already sucked her beautiful clit-cock, but now he wanted more. He thought of what sorts of lubricant he could use to lube himself with. He wanted the girl to screw his butt until she came in him, but to move to that position from where they were now—he couldn't see how it would be done without seeming awkward. He was still thinking of ways to do it, when the girl beside him suddenly stopped sucking and sat up.

Sheila had reached a point where she could not turn back. She was so close to cumming it felt like even a gentle breeze on her dick would set it off. She desperately tried to remember when the last time was that she'd masturbated and realized it had been months earlier. She'd been too busy, and besides, she had decided that, having no one to be with, she would forego physical pleasure altogether.

But now things were different.

The last time she had brought herself off, she was in her shower, on hands and knees with her dick pointing backward between her thighs and the hot stream from the shower-massage sprayer directed at the underside of her organ. She'd gasped and spurt all over the backs of her calves and the relief had been beyond description.

Now she rolled forward onto her hands and knees and pushed her stiff dick backward in the same way she had that one lonely night. She wanted him to take her now. She wanted him to plunge in and out of her behind until he came inside her, and maybe, just maybe, something else might happen. She glanced hopefully over at him, absently wagging her behind as she did, and as he sat up he couldn't help but smile back at her.

Her backward pointing clit-cock was clear to see even though it was small and the head of it just barely reached back through her thighs. He gazed at it, then lifted his eyes up the smooth curve of her ass and realized that here too was nothing remotely masculine. The only thing male-like was his rising prick, and he got up, went to get the lubricant he had been meditating on and hurried back with it. He wasted no time in applying the stuff to the girl's pretty crack and then started rubbing and massaging it in, sliding his finger up and down through that hot, steamy crevice. But the quivering pucker in the center of it finally took all of his attention and he began poking gently at it, applying more lube, and then finally easing his finger into it.