Speaking in Boytongues

She blinked, torn and quite thoroughly beside herself in her unexpected but very welcome afterglow. Lips, lips. Boy lips. But also boy neck. Boy- boy everything up there, really. He was-

He was.

HE WAS.

"He..." Hannah repeated, awestruck. Kissing stopped dead in the way only an unambiguous pronoun could manage. She sucked in a breath, which hissed cold between her teeth. Cold because boys were just so hot in comparison, and 'hissed' because the spice of Isha's simultaneous gasping exhale was so unmistakably his Hannah could practically watch the esses being sucked out all his future shes.

'Cause of the kiss, probably. God, but WHAT a kiss.

"No way..." Isha marveled right alongside. His mouth hung dumbly open, but only long enough to allow entirely too much kissy residue to start dangling. Which he dabbed away with a sleeve, without looking. "No fucking way. I... Isha is a- how do I even test that? How do I know that? What the fuck??"

"Isha is a her," Hannah lamely offered. "Isha is-"

Isha is my friend, and has definitely been a girl for... for at least at some point. Until now. Or- I'm pretty sure he was? Isha is- Isha has a boy tongue, though. And. And I mean, there's actually a lot of stuff he-

HE.

Whoooo heck. That was a hell of a lot of stingy fuck. The world kinda swung around, and then.

"Isha is a boy", Hannah finished, neither offering nor now seeing any further need for qualification. "And he's pretty cute too," her boy tongue added on, as an afterthought.

"This is so fucking weird." Isha silently mouthed the word again, then cringed. "It kinda stings too."

"Yeah. Sooo fucking weird."

They just looked at each other in quiet agreement there. Yeah. Very weird, very... very whatever this was. God knows Hannah didn't know anymore; even boy tongue was bush league at this point. Because they were still very on top of each other too. And they, uh... there was. It was sort of hard not to-

"But... boys kiss boys sometimes too. Right?" Isha squeaked hopefully. "That doesn't have to be weird."

"Right," Hannah agreed, nodding vigorously. Good save, right. Because he obviously was. "Boys kiss boys."

Isha mouthed it again. Coughed. Went all dazy eyed. Then suddenly cocked his head, and lurched a hand up to poke at the hill of Hannah's voice box. He mouthed it again, boy. And gave a quavering sort of smirk.

While Hanna's brain instead gave a wait, wrong, what is that, that's not boy anything, that's just boy.

Until, long story short: a whooole fuckload of happy hormonal boyhood got squirted out of a whole lot of Hannah's many new boy bits. Which were now entirely too numerous for the fabric of reality to ignore. So it didn't. Instead it swung the world round another quarter turn. And there was this unbelievable queasy, stinging numbness in Hannah's... in his... you know what, don't even ask, you wouldn't get it. Just.

HE. WAS.

And whoa man, would no one ever forget it. Suddenly the he was all mutual. Funny how that worked.

"Have I ever told you how cute you are?" Isha muttered, still pawing at Hannah's throat. "Most boys are, but you especially. God, I sound so fucking dumb, this is the dumbest thing."

"The dumbest," Hannah agreed dumbly, boy voice squeaking out over the wholly novel sensation of one's throat vibrating against someone else's fingers. Boy fingers. Boy forearms... boy elbows. His eyes traced them up, cataloguing. "He. Hannah, he. Heeeee."

Boy tongues seemed to really like saying the word. And as it turned out, Hannah didn't mind it much at all either. At least until he remembered about kissing, then his boy tongue wanted to do that instead.

"I'm going to kiss you again," Hannah stated on its behalf. It was the truth. "Boy kiss. Just me."

Isha groaned, loudly, but also wriggled and turned his head to the side in a way that was kind of hard to misinterpret. "Oh wow. Okay yes, boy kiss, but if any of this is actually for real happening Hannah, I swear we're working on our sex taaaaoooooh oh okay nevermind yes, right there, don't stop I'll shut up."

That in response to Hannah making a big ol' boy hickey, right on the side of his neck. Then licking it bottom on up for good measure. It was taut and smooth and tasted like skin and also like boy. Yum.

So Hannah decided to do it again, only lower. Which would be easy, because there'd been a highpitched squeak he'd heard in the middle of sucking on Isha, and before he'd even fully come back up Isha'd shuffled around and his blouse just whooshed expertly up and over. Boy shoulders were narrow and a sort of off-tan and coated in an actually really attractive new layer of boy sweat, oof, kissable.

But clavicles weren't boy at all just yet. So he decided they'd be better for it. Smooch. Liiiiick... and there it was. Oooh yeah. Big ol' checkmark on the mental list now. Boy: yes.

"Oh. You're making me boyer? That's-" Isha pouted. His shoulder was raised into it, and he'd kicked off a shoe to play awkward floor footsie with Hannah's yoga pants. Those weren't even boy yet, shameless.

"That's... probably, yeah. Sorry. But you were going to be all boy anyway, I'm pretty sure."

"...Yeah, probably."

Isha wriggled again, scooching up under Hannah. His knee bumped against Hannah's cooch on the way, but thankfully only hit the damp patch, with no explicit boy. So the part of boys that get all nervous when that kind of thing happens didn't yet need to. "Sorry, here. Let's just get- just get this over with."

One click later, and a bra fluttered to the floor. Hannah blinked, then shivered as fingertips unexpectedly shot under his own hemline, onto his back. And with a second click, what do you know. Two bras.

"Okay so, just so we're straight on this: you've got... we've got a lot of boy. Whatever. But this is-"

"Yeah. Yeah, boys don't have breasts. They- no boobs."

Hannah paused. "So do you... do you want me-?"

But apparently boy backs did not ask for permission. They just bent you over until boy lips met nipple, and from there fucky biology just sort of took over. There was that squeaky noise again, Isha's arms clamped tight - which meant they'd never even left his back, the cheeky things - and you know what, even when you can't taste nipple turning boy in real time, the feel of someone else's back going rigid and pushing them all pointy and erect into one's mouth is something that's hard to give up for any gender.

Hannah really liked it at least. So he sucked. And boy flowed in, as breast flowed out. The way of the world.

"Ah," Isha concurred. His fingers raked little divots of boy into Hannah's sides. "Ahhh." Down, down he went. Rumbly breast... then rumbly boy breast. Then no rumbly boy breast at all, really. "Ahhhhhh-"

Isha's boy chin clunked lightly against Hannah's skull as his relaxing ride downward came to a gentle flat-chested stop. But given he had a whole lot of expansive new boyhood to tongue, and given all he had to do was turn his head and give a light smooch to discover even more, he considered it an even trade.

Gosh, boys. Hannah loved boys.

"Hey. Hey, Hannah. You're a boy too. You were boy first. This... ahhhhhh... this is not fair..."

Yeah. Yeah very true. Hannah was a boy too. His back angled even more worryingly, and this time it was his butt raised and wobbling all up in the air, as his dumb boy face made an open mouthed grin and his boy tongue licked from defined boy pectoral up to clammy boy armpit. His chest drug up and across, and there was this lovely sort of provocative sting as his leftmost boob kissed up against the most recently gendered bits of Isha's boy body... then a numb, then an entirely too familiar sensation of fuckery...

"Oh fuck yeah, boy me bitch", Hannah gasped far too eagerly for it to have been entirely her idea. An explosion of newly descriptive vulgarity almost perfectly timed with an equally descriptive implosion of breast. Bodies separated by four inches, then two, then one, then clunk. Boy meets boy. Hello boy.

Both boys did their level best to dig their gaze down into the boy.

And oh, oh was it ever cute. Oh yes.

"Boy kiss", Isha reminded, flushing. "Both of us."

It had been a while, and they were both in the position for it. So yeah, they boykissed. And at this point reality's fabric was so frayed it was straight up getting a cosmic equivalent of performance anxiety, so things just cascaded in this big 'ol deluge of unrestrained male. Fluids got swapped, then greedily swallowed, so boy stomach was a check. And if stomach was boy, then belly should probably be boy too... so one stingy numb fuck later, and taut boy bellies times two gurgled expressively against their pair. A hip shifted and touched, whichever boy it might've been attached to getting particularly into the affair, before pausing, quivering, and narrowing with all the femmy subtlety only a panicked boy rush job can attain...

Before all that fuck spiked back the other way in a *very* confused zigzag, and ran smack dab into-

"Oh," both boys immediately noted, eyes fluttering reluctantly back open. "Oh that."

Yeah, that.

That stood out, given boys did not have that, generally. Any of... that.

But they uh. They were certainly boy now, at any rate. Boy ovary, boy womb, boy... Hanna screwed up his eyes, actually indignant. There was no fucking way the term 'boy estrogen' just popped into his brain, he was for sure ignoring that one. Soooo dumb.

"I have many words to say about this," Isha grumbled at Hannah's stupid sexy boy lips. This was their fault.

But he did not get to say any of them, because at that exact moment their boy bodies voiced their wholesale agreement, for once. Their legs, now quite dainty and very definitely boy, more or less completed the set. And that set decided by unanimous vote: that was simply a fucky too far. Soooo dumb.

So taut boy bellies gurgled expressively once more. Except this time what they expressed was:

"WHY NO, YOUR VAGINA IS NOT VERY BOY AT ALL. FIX PLEASE."

And that made both boys kinda just go quiet for a bit.

"Underwear. Off." Hannah finally whimpered through gritted boy teeth. Cramps. Ow. He couldn't believe this was happening. He knew exactly what was happening, yeah, but not the why. Never the why. It just-

"I'm going to- I'm supposed to have a penis," Isha choked out, once he could manage again. More just reading from the same mental teleprompter than really parsing the idea himself. "Hannah. Hannah my body wants to have a penis? Why don't I hate this. I should hate this. I mean, I should probably-?"

Yes, yes they should probably. But no Isha did not. And no Hannah did not either, not even a little bit. They were boys; boys were cute. And while he still wasn't even really sold on what made boy tongues boy he was pretty darn sure about one thing. About the boy penis he now knew Isha was due to have.

"I think boy peen is definitely gonna be cute too," Hannah tiredly conceded. "I mean, everything else is."

"We're gonna be- Virgin boys, oh my god," Isha continued muttering, all on his own. "No, not even. Boys that haven't even cum. That's like a unicorn. That's so rare. There isn't even a word for that I don't think..."

Hannah's legs went all shuddery, for some reason. Pants slipped to his ankles on a helpful river of slick, then his undies followed, and he flicked them both away. Or maybe his boy limbs did that on their own; nothing was surefire anymore. Either way, it meant cooch ended up sitting nudie on Isha's thigh. Though from the way he could feel it stinging all boyishly away, it probably wouldn't stay that way for long.

"We'll kiss through it," Hannah's boy tongue added, not even bothering to add the question mark.

Isha blinked. "Yeah, okay I guess. Okay."

And without anything else to really add to the now settled matter, Hannah's boy everything couldn't help but want to return to their new favorite place in the world, as fast as they could. So they did. So fast that although Isha's boy fingers had only just absently meandered under skirt, Hannah simply beat him to it.

Leaving Isha, goal quickly forgotten, to end up happily pawing at his boyfriend's crotch instead.

Kissy, kissy, went fat moist boy lips. Making heads turn all cottony, and ladybits all numb. But each could feel each other, which is what mattered most. Because not even fucky could mask the feel of it all. This could not be passed off as a swap, or mentally dismissed with a weird and a wave. It wasn't even an out and out genital begendering, for crying out loud. There WAS a cunt, two of them, and non-boy the both. And there were definitely two sets of boy fingers dipping wetly inside them.

But with the largest mutual moan of all, and a heady infusion of, wouldn't you know it, boy?

Twin vulvae bloomed out into two fucky flowers. Labia got all puffy, but tightened too, sucking on fingers below almost as needily as the two lust drunk boys macked on each other's faces above. Aching clits bulbed right on up, unfurling late to the party but quick to match pace. And bellies gurgled and wriggled, slight femmy abs clenching all tight as the boys wound in close then just slipped on right down.

Until two sets of mismatched boy fingers felt the light, plush touch of another boy's sensitive boyhood within. Cliché as could be, but that how it was. Reality fuckery did not exactly vibe with subtlety.

And they both just fuckin' screamed, either way.

The dumbest fucking thing. The hottest fucking thing. Everything was fuck, and everything was boy. Until it was so boy that nothing was boy at all anymore, except for them. Isha's fingers - just fingers, not boy ones - seized at the feeling of a soft ballsack sliding down his fingertips, coming to rest in his palm. There was a hearty vaginal clench that followed. And he'd swear on his life, the moment those testes birthed out of Hannah's body? There was an actual audible pop, mixed somewhere in with his highpitched squeal.

There might've even been a second one, right after. But Hannah was too engaged with kissing, with tenting beskirted panties with his knuckles, with kissing some more, and with maddeningly thumbing the increasingly plump foreskinned cockhead he could feel sticking further and further over Isha's elastic waistband to notice. And Isha... well, Isha never stood a chance of noticing that one in the first place.

Their bodies were a big beautiful ball of blazing boy, four of them. And the only sense that can really get through to a boy that's that filled up with boy isn't sound, or sight. Or even taste, even though this was for sure the most boy either boy had ever tasted in his life. No, that one special sense? It was touch.

'Cause Boys really like to be touched, as a rule. And when it's the touch of another cute boy? Ohhh man.

It was cute when a boy's thumb traced around that sinking-in hole of another boy's foreskin. It was cute when it cuuurled a nail into it, pulled it down, traced slowly and blindly around the throbby glans inside. It was cute when the first boy's ballsack got lightly squeezed in response, and cute when a hand started exploring up his bulgy round shaftbase, and even cuter how both boys sort of bodily tensed mid kiss, not really sure how to respond but certain with all that they were they never, ever wanted the other to stop.

It was cuter than all when a last bit of fuck slunk awkwardly back, stung each in the rear and then slunk right on back off. Sculpting two sets of boy butts, and all they entailed. It was so fucking cute when those butts got all clenchy, their dicks jumped erect, and encircling hands felt that telltale wet. Right at the tip.

But for how cute boy peen obviously turned out to be? They were even. Cuter. When. They. Kissed♥.

Cocktip met cocktip. Lip met lip. Both locked tight, and elected to never, ever stop. And given how downright slimy the former quickly became, there was in fact very little difference between for exactly thirty seven seconds. Which was exactly as long as the two boys actually managed an awkward but fervent kissing frot on each other. One still had a skirt on and all, which made the whole affair harder than it really had to be. But precummy peen had a way of making things work for the best. Plus it was kinky as hell.

"Mmmmuh", Hannah happily demonstrated. "Ghhhh", Isha agreed.

Boys in skirts: cute as can be. That was what Hannah's brain might've penciled in. But second thirty eight ticked over first. So instead it just cummed its cutesy boy brains out.

And while cocks don't actually make any sound when they get all dribbly and quivery and start spurting out white. And boys can't really see it when a shaft runs over shaft, crossing halfway through so it gets all caught and throbby against the other one. And kissy boys can't even taste to check exactly how boy that first mix of sperm with sperm might be, in comparison, given they're too busy kissing. They can still touch through all of it. And if you thought boy kisses were a little underwhelming, you have not lived until you've seen two newly minted blushy boyfriends, lusty as can be, just unrestrainedly rubbing one hand each over each other's cummy boy cocks. It's the cutest, boyest thing ever. Just make sure that's all that you see.

'Cause if you were to catch sight of their off hands, quivering to the side and intertwined where they lay on the grungy tile floor, you too might just think it so thoroughly cute that you'd die right there.

*****

Or maybe not. Because the thing about cumming in mall food courts, boy or no.

Is that there are a lot of people around to watch. In general. It's hard to notice, when you're randomly going all boy; fucky had its own way of drowning detail out. But on the other hand, once fucky's had its fill, you're really just left running on fumes. Which run out quick when boys start tiredly gasping for air on top of each other, or for the first time realize that penises get soft kinda fast when they're done with being the best. And cum gets all clammy when it's smeared around and left out to air, which isn't great either.

All of which is to say the small crowd the pair had drawn, and the telltale click of electronic camera apps, and the constant murmur of oh my god, Harold, do you *see* them, got noticed pretty quick. Not that Isha could do much, given he was pinned under the living embodiment of twinky post-nut bliss. Other than immediately stiffen with a less fun sort of fearfusion. But he noticed. It was sort of a buzzkill, really.

A buzzkill that only grew larger, even as he silently watched. Ohhh fuck.

Weirdly, however? The first to approach within the eight-feet buffer that'd naturally formed to border that growing crowd wasn't a security guard, or an off-duty policeman, or even a local shop owner. It was a fourty two year old woman named Melinda, who was there to shop for novelty plastic Easter eggs and decidedly not to watch two crazy girls turn into two very pretty boys and then cum all over each other.

Not that any of those details particularly matter, barring the line or two they would occupy on an eventual in-depth incident report. But they're probably worth it for flavor, if nothing else.

Because even weirder than that was how she didn't actually approach Isha, nor even particularly acknowledge his presence even and despite the worried wide-eyed stare he shot up at her as she passed. Instead the first thing she did after rounding their little puffing limb pile was squat herself down, stare quizzically into Hannah's dumb blissed-out face, and ask: