The first ten miles were the hardest after which my companion appeared exactly as I knew it would. I was pleasantly surprised gender wise, feeling not a little wayward in that respect myself. Both sexes have their advantages and their drawbacks so for a change I decided to be neither. And thus I conjured it, lithe, receptive part way between furred and feathered, with a peculiar colouring which changed in sympathy with mood and light. It had no need for fangs or horns, turning fairly fearsome anyway whenever necessary. As for garb, in addition to it’s magnificent pelt I gave it little more than an all encompassing cloak.

Our first night together found us exploring possibilities within the confines of a huge hollow tree. I made a fire and, nameless as yet it basked in its smoky warmth, eyes gleaming as it surveyed me unblinkingly. Should it flatter or reflect, support or supplement I wondered. Gracefully it turned the spitted rabbit it had caught for our supper, singeing wild herbs on a flat stone, dripping her and there a little fat while the marsh echoed emptily the soft chirring nightjar sharing a branch of our hollow tree.

Heat shimmered and the creature smiled. It had no need of fangs for the meat, when ready was more than well done.

Dawn found us behind a cold fires ashes, huddled, cuddled into each others loose embrace. We missed the sunrise for something more, much more than simple warmth. We’d worked out, quite early on you see, the way to do it to each other most comfortably.

“You bear her shell?” it asked me gently, at the point when I first made free of it.

“Of course!” I answered but it did not enquire why I did.

We’d spoken little after that, enough but only enough, mere words were unnecessary when there were languages anew to seek and explore. Only briefly did I think of those I had so recently left. Three sisters, oh and all three I’d known so intimately. Regret came and went like zephyr. The island and my missing of it but then. Drifting on life’s tides rudderless a man might die whilst overindulging, run dry of fluids smooth enough to spurt or become brainless from a shortage of blood if, as can happen sometimes, too much of the stuff be diverted elsewhere.

“Speak to me in the morning” I’d whispered, and hesheit had nodded its wondrous head. But cold light found us, untangled us, bade is rise and be on our way. I shivered, we shivered, the marsh being misty, surveying each other and curiously considering, wondering, which of us should wear the only bra we had between us.

Scant need for such had my companion, its dugs so small they were barely there and what was there so deeply hidden within its pelt as to be, unless you knew the trick of it, virtually unfindable.

Breakfast was taken sparingly, hinting urgency though we knew not why. Then the sun, rising above the distant trees began to bathe the marsh in a golden light.

“I enjoyed you……so much……” I began to say but my companion hushed me.

“Make of it what you will for ‘tis no more nor less than thine own imagination”

“This I know……!” I said.

Again it interrupted.

“And only that imagination can make it so!”

“You are real enough!” I informed it, whereupon it bowed gracefully.

Lover and Loved it became for me. Hunter and Gatherer, the original Swiss Army knife of a being with marvellous, unexpected openings and closings whenever so simple a complicated thing was needed.

“Should we share roles, tasks, burdens?” I asked it.

“Let it stand” was all it said.

So I wore the skirt and blouse that morning and the bra, ill adjusted did little for my breasts. My companion elected to lead, bearing a hazel staff, for protection I supposed, knowing nothing as yet of it’s defensive skills.

And so we went, stepping carefully the while, the way being little more than two hand spans wide across the marsh. And as we walked I gazed and studied and saw the cloak, for all its volume, swirling freely and hiding nothing. It strode boldly while I, my thoughts elsewhere, staggered and tripped on peat hags and unseen hollows until presently, when the rear view portraying a certain magnificence, male undoubtedly in my thoughts, I felt the growing heat of need within me.

He must have known instinctively I think for, a hundred paces further on he slowed to a halt and turned to me.

“Shall we share a moment?” he asked.

I nodded, my thoughts steaming.

Taking off my rucsac I wriggled my shoulders. There was some small stiffness already where none should have been.

“Your breasts” he murmured “Have you imagined them larger for my benefit?”

He’d noticed! I hadn’t. Can you believe that!

“I thought you liked……”

What could I tell him? Only that I wanted to feel his hands upon me.

“The halter is ill fitting” he said “Does it not……adjust?”

Adjust? I wanted it not adjusted but removed altogether, along with my jacket and shirt and the rest of my clothes.

“Let us share a moment” he suggested.

I nodded, no longer in any kind of state to care.
……………

Midday found us crookedly amid an expanse of bent and broken grasses and if our fingertips were touching the soil beneath, little else of our bodies was. The hollow tree had been an opener, an introduction and nothing more, softly skinned now, here, complete, I’d given myself entirely unto him.

We’d whispered inanities, nonsense words, dribbled droplets without meaning. He’d been huge, massive and I correspondingly receptive and together we’d created a new way of being.

“From now on I want you to leave your breasts exposed while we walk!” he’d urged.

Excited by the prospect I’d agreed that I would.

“I’ll wear her cowrie on a thong between them” I said “And when I want you…...your……I’ll say ‘come to me oh mighty beast……’”

He grinned, grimaced, still hurting here and there where I’d bitten him.

“You’ll be saying it constantly” he suggested

Midday lit us, denied us shadow, drawing broken marshmint vapours headily.

“Or not!” he went on, as I touched him lightly and found him erect again in an instant.
………………

Later I regretted wishing for so large a pair of breasts for as I walked they bounced and ached and got in the way. Knowing he liked them was some consolation, little enough however, for now, whenever possible he walked beside me in order simply to gaze at them.

In turn I studied his magnificent body, his genitalia in particular, what I could see of it through the curled mass of his hair. His virility was beyond question; what taxed me was, was he fertile and, more to the point, was I? There had been no attempt at contraception; indeed no thought of it had entered my mind, not even fleetingly. That I wanted him constantly exercised my thoughts fully where I’d once supposed, accepted even, once or twice a day more than enough.

But the ladies I’d met refuted that concept surely? The three sisters in particular, they never knew nay. A male idea then maybe and one I’d have to explore in some detail at the earliest opportunity.
……………

We walked unhurriedly for the rest of the day, enjoying ourselves while the marsh grew gradually less boggy and more undulating. Presently, some way ahead of us the blue grey loom of a forest gave us some indication of scale. Until then our passage had been flat, and featureless save for countless pools or brackish water.

“What sort of trees would they be?” I asked idly and for no particular reason other than for something to say.

“Tamarinds I expect” answered he.

The dull ache of my breasts had eased somewhat by that time, I know not why, except new muscles or ligaments had found their place perhaps. My urges however had not, by any degree lessened in intesnsity and but for the movement of sunlight and air upon them my nipples would surely have been permanently, proudly and painfully erect. Much the same I feel, went for my companion, it being rare for a man to venture far on foot whilst his penis remains upright. There are usually too many other demands made upon his energies for it to remain that way!

So his parts drooped and dangled, hiding in their cavern of hair until a short half dozen paces further on where we stopped suddenly, without having spoken, when he reached for me and I for him, simultaneously.

He demanded it orally that time, a task I managed barely in time for as he stood and I knelt to take him into my mouth his orgasm burst forth before I could do anything.

More than a little surprised I gulped to swallow as much as I could, still mistakenly thinking until that moment I might be more sexually aroused than he.

I’d tasted men before, naturally, more times than I cared to remember, men of all kinds, all tastes and dispositions. None however, and here I struggled to make comparisons, could match either the taste or the content of my present companion.

I smeared him onto my chin, allowed a dribble to slip and slither lower, down onto my breasts. He groaned, look down at me, placed his hands on either side of my head.

“We are thinking about it too much, you and I” he told me “I have nothing on my mind but your fanny and you have naught but my prick in your head!”

It was true! I’d thought about little else all day. We’d forgotten lunch, even forgotten to drink, now here we were, gasping ravenously for the fruitfulness of each other again.

“But I want you!” I said simply. I could not have put it more plainly than that.

He nodded, stroking my hair, softening only a little while my lips kept a hold on him.

“Tomorrow, if you like” he suggested thoughtfully “Ill be the woman and you can be the man”

The idea both excited and intrigued me.

“Agreed!” I cried “But with reservations”

He looked at me, stepped back and helped me to rise.

“Reservations? What is that?”

“I don’t want you to be all hairy” I told him “I’ll be like that if you’ll be as smooth as I now am……”

“It’s a deal!” he said.

“And you’ll walk with your breasts exposed, as I did today?”

“Alright, but what if we meet other people?”

“I never thought to ask you the same question!”
……………

We compared nipples later, after we’d eaten and while we lay in a makeshift den under the trees. He repaid my oral favour exquisitely, taking all the time in the world, every second we had, drawing the last, the very last drop of want out of me. The Lady’s shell lay lightly against my heart as we dozed together, a secret as secretive as it had ever been. We’d change overnight in our dreams I knew. That was the way of it, the way it was meant to happen. I sighed, the forest breathed and our fire flickered. On the morrow he’d be a woman and I’d be a man. Casually we reached for each other, content in that simple act of being. Evening darkened and a star or two winked at us through the branches of the trees.

“Imagine……” he breathed sleepily.

“I do!” I said.

“And dream” he murmured.

“And dream” I said “Of a time and a place and lovemaking under the tamarind trees”

© Aahlu 200910.

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