The Wee of the Comet

THE WEEK OF THE COMET

or How I Became Teratosexual

*

Chapter I

==============

Yes, I know, Saturday is supposed to be an oversexed day for futanari. But my weekdays were sexed enough that I often wanted to spend my weekends on my hobbies.

My favorite was hiking. I know, lame. Well, video games are for losers and anime for weirdos, bite me, alright? So here I was, on a fairly sunny early afternoon, wearing my favorite

Genshin Impact

t-shirt, on my way to explore the one area in the outskirts of Reinhardt that I hadn't yet. Blame it on the hectic futa life, and that I moved here only last year. Campus District evidently cause I could only afford to be an exchange student here, not a millionaire on tax evasion. These are the only two ways to get a visa for the Neutral Kingdom of Capparosæ.

It was May of 20XX. The Month of the Comet. I could see it on my left as I was driving the speedway. It was at its perigee. (Means it was the closest to Earth, for the low-IQs here with us.) Just a shimmering tail of ice and dust, fixed in the sky like it wasn't moving, although it was: this big bad mother was hissing at eighty kilometers a second through the void, so dangerously close it was visible to the naked eye during the day. It would pass above us, for about a month, before continuing its weird rogue orbit, back into the cold depths of space. Everything was wrong about it, trajectory, speed, density, it defied every model. The most baffling celestial event in written history they were calling it.

And me, the anonymous speck of dust on a pale blue dot, I was driving at a good one hundred miles an hour, gazing at the thing through my side window, and I was on the phone. Because you could do all that in this country.

*Ester.*

It was my next-door neighbor. On the phone, I mean. Ester is me. Ester Belisario, from Allentown, Pennsylvania. Sophomore at the University of Reinhardt. Civil engineering. The hardest and most boring shit you can imagine.

I'll leave the physical description for later.

This

is my account of the strange events that occurred during the Month of the Comet. I'm writing this for whoever will be able to read it. I'm using an AI program generating a thoughts-to-text transcription which is, I must admit, pretty terrifyingly accurate.

That's why my story will make scholars blush and more casual readers wet and/or hard. At least I hope it does. I want it to. As it comes straight out of my depraved stream of thought there will be no self-censoring. No beating around the bush (I like a nice bush). Because a futa loves sexed weekdays and oversexed weekends.

*Ester, there's two girls at your door, they say they're here for a threesome.*

"Aw fuck, I forgot about them."

My neighbor, Olivia, she was a futa too. The whole condo was just futa students, actually. Imagine the atmosphere.

Anyway, I ask her just to be sure, "One has a tattoo on her hand, right?"

*I don't-- Show m--

Show me your hand, please!

... Yes, she does. A G-clef.*

"Oh that's what it's called?"

*Where are you?*

"On some errands. Can't you just fuck them for me, I dunno?"

*I don't know these girls!*

"Tell them to go home, then. I won't be back till late."

*They look pissed. You're an asshole.*

"I know."

*Where

are

you?*

"Krrrrrrrr--" I made this noise and moved the phone back and forth, "Krrrrr Krrr--comet interferenceKrrrrrrr--can't hear y--KKrrrrr--disconnectingKRRR--" and I hung up.

Not that I disliked Olivia (or threesomes), I loved her to the moon and back but...I liked my spare time even more.

So, my spare time, my hobby, hiking, yada yada--back on track: I arrived at the east foothills of Ysengrimus Ridge, right at the edge of the forest. Yellow Forest they called it, because it had this warm microclimate. That is Yellow Forest in the old Cappa tongue, I won't even try and pronounce it.

The parking lot was small; Capparosæ is a small country, sparsely populated, and the only other car I saw there was a van belonging to a forest management company.

If these guys were working in the woods I would be able to stay away just by the sound of chainsaws. No problem there.

The thing was I couldn't hear any. I didn't hear any the whole day, now that I think about it.

I got out of the car and shouldered my backpack. I checked my GPS and headed for the woods.

It was an hour later when I reached the clearing I was looking for but only because I had thoroughly studied the path beforehand. This forest was the thickest I ever trekked once you got off the trail.

It was barely a clearing, just an area with fewer trees, until you saw it had a centerpoint, marked by old ruins. It was more obvious on Google Maps, but not so glaring here at ground level, yet there was a rectangle of black stones in the light green grass. I had been real lucky to spot it. And now given the lack of graffitis and beer bottles, I guess I was the discoverer of an old forgotten temple. Not that I was particularly interested in ante-Butlerian architecture, most of it was just lumps of rock, I just thought it would be a good checkpoint.

I walked up to the eroded outline, feeling excited, still on the lookout for any chainsaw. It was really just four walls, two feet thick but never taller than a dozen inches, when it was not just a bump in the ground. In its prime it could have gathered what...twenty, thirty followers? The Basalt religion if I remember history class correctly. The last cult that had thrived in this region before the Fall.

Weirdos praying in the forest.

I crossed what most likely used to be the front doorway and stepped toward what most likely used to be the altar. The wall of the quire had been completely destroyed by the passage of time and in its place stood a single cypress tree, young and thin. Raising my gaze, above its top, I could see the comet, right in front of me.

Ominous, uh?

Scientists assured us it was only a big ball of ice. Harmless. The same bozos who still can't tell what caused the Butlerian War, who started it.

Eh, who cares. They're all dead.

They've been dead for four hundred years. This temple was four hundred years old. At least.

Walking around the altar, I saw it was actually an arch over a narrow stairway descending into the ground. At its foot the room or the underground corridor it gave into was blocked by a wall of boulders.

"Perfect!"

Opening my backpack, I started setting all my paraphernalia on the altar.

You're going to pagan hell for this

, I told myself.

I turned off my phone and then I sat on the ground and started untying my shoes.

By now you must have guessed where all of this is going. I took off my shoes, and then took off all my clothes. Everything but my socks as I immediately put the shoes back on.

I didn't hesitate one bit, I actually couldn't wait to be finally naked and I removed my panties like you would remove your hat.

One last swig of water, some sunscreen, and only then I started to face hesitation, I confronted the chills: putting my heap of clothes in the backpack, zipping it shut and locking it up with a timer lock.

Beep, beep, beep. Click.

That was it. Bound to be naked for the next three hours.

Because yes, I lied, hiking wasn't my real hobby. It was nudism. And exhibitionism. I said hobby, not passion, as sex was my passion, like any futanari, but on the weekend I liked to detox from fucking three new people every day.

I liked public nudity. Illegal. Even for a futa. I liked the thrill of avoiding being caught. Liked the mindblowing orgasms it brought me to be butt naked where I shouldn't. And also I liked the view: the previous Saturday I was masturbating at the edge of a cliff, overlooking a nice valley and the sunset. Acres of green majesty while I was moaning my little heart out, to eventually shoot my load down the drop, into the woods down below, it's like I was fucking the sky. Hope no one was down there. What's the saying again? 'Don't piss on me and tell me it's raining'? Well, turns out it's cum, bro.

I hid my backpack inside the rubble downstairs, and then climbing back to the surface, among the ruins, my body suddenly bathed in sunlight, I could at last drink in the fact that I was totally and utterly and inescapably naked. From head to um... ok, ankles, I guess.

Alright, I also had my glasses on. Fine.

And some earrings.

And my nipple piercings.

And my smartwatch of course, I don't wanna get lost. Anyway. Let's segue to what I look like.

I'm a brunette. Recovering pasty dork. I've tanned nicely since I moved here. Four-foot-eleven and one hundred pounds of fast metabolism bod. I'm tiny but lithe (toned if I'd put in the effort), and it's my figure that often gets complimented, cause I guess people imagine short girls are all built like a pear or like a fridge. It doesn't help that I have these horn-rimmed glasses over my hazel eyes and my hair is a shaggy ear-length mop. I'm a student, not a model, I still smell of the last joint I smoked, bro. And when I'm actually wearing clothes I look like a thrift store fucked a Mexican gift shop.

That's the only nerdy side of me. Everything else is futa genetics. Thanks mom and dad. I mean just look at those boobs! Double-Ds that defy gravity. We all have big tits. God's sense of humor, I guess. Mine aren't that big, actually. But still, my chest had caused so many double-takes. Like Take One is 'Oh, she's not flat as a board.' but then Take Two is 'Waidaminute they're really big!'

Perfect teardrops they are, and I love'em. Capped with perky nipples. Those are as sensitive as clits so I had them pierced. I have an array of piercings at home. I wear the tackiest ones at parties when I know I'm gonna end up topless. They can look. You can look everywhere, I love being watched when I'm nude. It makes me hot. It makes me hard. It makes me cum.

Look at my whole body. I have my hang-ups, of course--I'm a girl--but that's part of the thrill. Feeling exposed. The thinner the line between getting complimented and getting humiliated, the wetter I get. And I love the contrast. I love thinking that people wouldn't expect the nerdy pixie girl to show cleavage or midriff. Or her feet. Fuck, the looks I get in class when I wear flip-flops.

That's not really a description, is it? I don't know how to describe my body. I used all my brag points on my mouthwatering rack. I'm average, but still in a good way. As I said, I'm fit. Hourglass body shape but nothing freakish like some futa. All I know is that my ass is juicy enough that it gets groped and fucked regularly. Which makes my hungry pussy jealous. I'm waxed from the neck down so I can feel it exposed. It's a tight little slit, for lack of a better word. I wish it was freakish, puffy, meaty, with a large clit, but it's not. My labia are flat and closer to the color of my skin than pink.

But what I love is that my inner lips are so thin they spread by themselves when I open my legs. Very inviting. And it makes my clit pop out, it feels so good. And slutty.

But I'm just delaying here. In addressing the main attraction. My cock.

I could describe my hands (They have nails!) or how many fillings I have in my teeth (zero) but I know we're all here for the ten inches of dick meat.

You bet I measured it, we're all freaking pervs, us futanari, in case you hadn't guessed by now. And I like to brag about it, like all of us freaking futanari pervs. Which may be surprising since we all have big dicks so you would think it balanced out, made it banal, but that was forgetting the Muggles, i.e. men and women, with their mere six inches and their saggy 38Bs.

Joking aside, apparently it's all brain chemistry, science says. Futa can't develop a tolerance for dopamine. The thought of having a penis the size of my forearm and balls the size of your girlfriend's ass will always turn me on. Call it narcissism, call it dissociation. It's hard to explain.

And those scientists from earlier, they can't explain why the mutation appeared two hundred years ago either. We're like twenty percent of the world population now and still as mysterious as that comet. But so far so good. People seem to tolerate us. No civil war, no genocide. Unlike those asshats who Butlerized themselves to death and left us nothing but bones and microchips. Good thing we found them when we had to re-discover fire and wheel.

And here I am now, in one of the richest nation in the world, naked and free and horny and happier than I've ever been and about to cum my fucking balls off all afternoon playing hide-and-seek.

I could rip my backpack open with a rock and that would be the end of it. But the lust was thumping at the back of my head like a delicious fear. So after one last look at the timer lock, I was on my way.

I maintained a leisurely pace. I've noticed that you instinctively walk faster when you're streaking. Defense mechanism, I guess.

I also tried to remain flaccid. It's hot walking around with a hard-on but I find it even kinkier to be casual, wiener swinging around. If that makes sense. I would soon be precumming like crazy anyway.

There's not much to say about that first part of my sexy saunter, apart from the fact that I was naked and looked like a nervous little exhibitionist slut and I was humming along softly thinking about the tuggings I would inflict on my hard cock as soon as I would feel like it.

I saw a lake in the distance. The sun was still high in the sky so I thought it could be a good place to get caught. By people who would probably be as naked as me. And as horny as me. One of the perks of a college town.

There was something resembling a beach on the north-eastern edge. A stripe of sand, wide enough that I could lie down there and have a nap in the shade of my own boner. And perhaps, wake up to the gasps of a bunch of pre-med hunks, who were here for a picnic and instead found my sunshade pole.

Naaah! I would never. I have enough self-respect not to impose my dong on people. I liked the thrill of not being caught, remember?

Though, I admit I also liked the thrill of being caught by people who would laugh it off, brush it off, cum it off... The exhib life is struggle.

I wondered if the water was warm enough this time of year. Well, only one way to find out. As soon as I got to the beach I kicked off my shoes and tried my toes, then my feet.

There's a volcano around here?

I thought. The water was warmer than the air.

Before I could go any further, I heard voices.

Women voices.

My pussy got wet instantly, unless it was the water I was spraying on it wading back to the shore as fast and as silently as possible.

Either way, I could feel my clit rubbing against my nutsack, so I

was

turned on. The game was on.

The forest was giving straight onto the beach, really like a wall of trees. I ran in there, at the risk of running into these girls I was trying to hide from. I swerved and dove behind the first clump high and thick enough.

It was hiding me alright and I could see them. Two girls, around my age.

More like peep on them, because it got quickly obvious they were a couple. Intimate body language, hand-holding, bedroom eyes, long whispers, it was so sweet. Pretty sure I saw them on campus before. I couldn't spy on them, I mean I know it sounds like the beginning of a porn scene but I'm not a creep, right? I should leave, right? But...oh damn, I forgot my shoes! I can't go now. And they're kissing. And making out. And would you look at that, they look so pained that they both didn't bring a swimsuit and now they have no other choice but to skinny-dip. And who knows what afterward.

"Oh shit, someone's here!" one of the girls said, putting her girlfriend's bra strap back on.

She had spotted my shoes in the sand. Honestly it was a relief, things were getting out of hand.

But now it was worse, cause they were looking around. And I should add that my shoes were sturdy hiking boots, perfectly unisex. They could belong to a man for all they knew, a pervert... Or worse: a futa!

"

Hellooo?

" the other girl called.

"Shhh! are you insane? Let's go somewhere else."

"There's only the shoes, though. And the socks. That's kinda weird."

"The guy's fishing, I dunno..." They were whispering now.

"Do you see him?"

"No, I don't. Let's go."

"Maybe he drowned."

"Kari, come on!"

"

HELLOOO? you forgot your shoes!

"

The other one sighed.

They waited. They scrutinized the water, the silence.

Meanwhile I was lurking back at them, painfully curled up behind this bush, my cock and clit throbbing as hard as my heart was beating.

Maybe I could stand up and go like 'Heyyy haha these are my shoes! what up?' They'd only see my head and chest, they would think I'm a girl. And maybe they would tell me to join in, for a swim and then a threesome. Maybe. And I would walk out of the bush, reveal my lower half and they would run away screaming like they saw Bigfoot.

More like Bigdick.

Haha, I'm so hilarious.

Yeah, so, instead I just waited for them to leave. They did quickly, because they were uneasy, but it still felt like holding my breath. I waited until I couldn't hear them anymore, I had to wait and

endure

and when they passed me by they were so close I pressed my hands over my mouth, I prayed they couldn't see me shaking behind that bush, couldn't see the bush shaking with me. All because of a stupid kink that makes me go out of my weekends and makes me

get off

from such a situation.

And get off I almost did: as soon as they got far enough I reached back and pulled out the buttplug that had been in my ass all this time, like one second before the explosion. Like I swear the encounter had got me so worked up I was one second away from a hands-free prostate orgasm. That would have meant Bigdick suddenly having a seizure, jizzing like a fucking sprinkler. And I couldn't remove it earlier because I knew what would happen, which did happen:

The girls far enough, I released all the tension in my body in a gasp, fell to my hands and knees in a grunt, yanked the fucking thing out in a groan, my asshole made this outrageous squishy

plop

and even the jet of precum squeezed out of my cock made an audible sound. Fuck, that was close. I swear I was right on the edge, my prostate and my cock spasming, my gaping asshole winking, face against the ground, panting.

The exhib life is hell, my brothers and sisters.

I shuffled back to my shoes, plug in my hand.

So... yeah... I lied. I wasn't naked. I was wearing a buttplug, and my glasses, and whatever.

A pretty big plug at that. Pointing it out so you know the kind of skank I am. Two inches diameter. You know the kind, chrome, with the fake jewel on the base. Girly.

Lube and precum had dripped all over my crotch and my legs, it was the right time to go in for a swim. I could have put the plug back in me now that I had somewhat cooled down, but I left it inside one of my shoes, because I thought about it: swimming around with that jewel sticking outta my butt, glittering and all, I mean I've seen episodes of

River Monsters

.

I hopped in and it was so nice. Because the water was so warm and because I was naked of course.

I swam a few laps. Some welcomed cardio. Then eventually I saw I had drifted so much I decided to just get out and go back to my shoes on foot. Just a few hundred yards of thicket to cross. I couldn't even make out the beach from where I was.