Girl Unraveled: Dream 2 free porn video

dream \'dreem\ n. 1. A succession of images, thoughts, or emotions passing through the mind during sleep. 2. 2. Something that one has wanted very much to do, be, or have. Casey's ringing cell phone woke him up. It had been several days since the last time he had seen Betsy and he imagined that it was her calling once again. He couldn't avoid her forever. He answered. "Hello." Casey's body was still absolutely infused with hormones from the previous night and his voice hadn't yet reverted from it's lighter, higher tones. "Hi, um.... I was trying to reach Casey. Is he around?" It was Betsy's voice. "Bets, it's me." Casey heard it too, his inner voice was off and it felt like he had a lump in his throat. He cleared it and got up out of bed, heading to the bathroom. He was still naked and grabbed a pair of boxers from the drawer, slipping them on carefully as his nether regions still felt very raw and sensitive. "Oh. You sounded like..." Betsy was going to say, 'like your mother' but caught herself, remembering what had happened the last time they had been together. "...we must have had a bad connection for a second." As she was leaving the last time they had been together she had seen that he was mad at her but she didn't know he would avoid her this long. She had teased him, laughed at him even and she had worried he might never talk to her again. To Casey now, the whole thing seemed silly. After all, how could he be mad at Betsy after what he had done last night? "Are you there, Betsy? You called me, remember?" Casey was still a little groggy and his vision blurred as he walked up to his bathroom mirror and sink, turning on the faucet. He placed the phone down on the counter and placed it on speaker as he brought some water up in his cupped hands to splash his face. "Yes, I'm here," Betsy replied softly. Though she teased him, Casey was her closest friend. In many ways he was her only true friend. She went to an all-girl school and there prestige mattered much more than relationships. Even after that, friendships were usually formed along well-established family lines and Betsy's family was what they called 'new money.' Every now and then Casey and her would fight but Betsy would always give in before long. Her life without Casey was miserable and lonely. She was glad she had decided to call instead of confront him in person; tears were already forming under her eyes. After a long pause she sniffled and said, "Hey, what gives? I really missed you, you know." Casey wiped the water from his face. He immediately felt guilty. While Betsy sometimes got a little carried away with her teasing, it was at least partially his fault for being so sensitive about it. Betsy never seemed to mind what she called his feminine side, encouraged it even. But Casey still had deep seated fear and shame, well established by his father who would accept nothing but what he thought was proper for a man. "I miss you too. We should do something this weekend, you think? A movie night maybe?" He too knew how much their relationship meant to Betsy. In truth he felt the same... He paused in thought. Something about his reflection in the mirror seemed different. Betsy didn't answer and couldn't hold back a few sobs in between relieved bursts of laughter. Casey was squinting at himself now, craning his neck, inspecting everything he could. "What," Casey said, now laughing a bit himself, "you're not crying are you?" His nipples! "You jerk!" she said, and Casey couldn't see it but he knew she was smiling. Betsy was excited and the rest of the conversation was dominated by her. Casey was too distracted to follow most of it. He inspected the area of his chest as she talked. His nipple appeared to be bigger somehow and darker, as if the skin were somehow tanned. Casey saw some coins on the counter top and an odd idea came to him. He picked up a quarter, held it up to the mirror and then lightly pressed it to his nipple. "Oh!" Casey said, interrupting what Betsy had been saying. "Okay, okay," Betsy continued. "It doesn't have to be a comedy. A horror perhaps?" The metal was cold against his flesh and it began to rise on the nipple, as if the nipple was pushing it out. He could see the outline of his areola clearly, just slightly bigger than the quarter and perfectly round. He hadn't remembered his nipples having either feature before, like they had grew overnight. Casey attempted to remove the quarter very carefully. It made no difference how careful he was, ecstasy erupted in him anew. "Yeah," he said as he shuttered. "Cool. Horror it is." And Betsy continued the plans. Maybe... just maybe this was exactly what Casey had been waiting for. Something different, some symbol that puberty had started for him at last. He almost thought once again of the night they had been together, the last time he had seen Betsy naked. Her breasts, her nipples, they too were big and round. Her nipples had been raised and wide and surrounded by tiny little bumps. His nipples were raised and wide and surrounded by tiny little bumps. "Since we've made up, I know maybe this isn't the best time, but can we do something at your place again? Something upstairs," Betsy said, suggestively. "Huh? Oh..." Casey's thought immediately vanished and then realized what Betsy was saying. "We can't really, Kyle's in town and..." "Kyle!" Betsy squealed. "We can't go out then, we need to have the movie at your place. Oh please, Casey, please! He's so cute." "Betsy," Casey laughed, "he's almost twice your age!" "So? A girl can dream, can't she?" --- With the plans for the weekend made, Betsy was no longer interested in coming over but instead seemed content with obsessing about their movie night - and Kyle - at her own house until then. With Kyle at work and his mom out doing who knows what, this left Casey home alone all day. He paced back and forth at the base of the stairs for most of it. If he went upstairs he knew what could happen, he was still extreme horny. Downstairs was no better as there were plenty of rooms that would allow for his privacy. In view was his mother's rooms and for some reason the sight of her laundry basket at the base of her bed, all those silk and linen undergarments strewn about inside, began making his underside tingle. Kyle had probably seen my mother in those panties, Casey thought, He had probably seen her in that bra. He stopped pacing and instead sat on the first step. I'm losing my mind, he thought pouting, even then staring down at his needy crotch. The phone buzzed in his pocket and his hip was so sensitive to the sensation that it cause him to jump up. "Eep!" He checked it. Is your mom home yet? It was a text from Kyle. Kyle had texted him many times before but for some reason hearing from him now made Casey smile wide. He sent a text back. No. Kyle sent a reply, then another. Suddenly Casey's dark mood was lifted and before long he was texting back and forth for what seemed like hours. Okay, don't text again for another fifteen minutes or you'll sound annoying, his mind raced, and then, No. Don't say that! It sounds too sappy. His fingers were a blur and he caught himself giggling more than once. So what? he thought, Kyle's just a friend and beside, I'm all alone here and bored. It was nice, having someone to talk to. Betsy didn't like to text and neither did Casey, really, so he rarely did this with any of his friends. He liked that he now had something that was just his and Kyle's. It made him feel closer, almost intimate... The front door opened. "I'm home!" his mother yelled. Casey immediately closed the phone. He didn't know why but suddenly he felt guilty and fled upstairs. "Casey?" His mom called, not hearing any reply but the sound of running feet upstairs. Then to herself, "That kid..." she said shaking her head. Later that evening Kyle came back from work and Casey still hadn't come downstairs. "Man, someone smells a little ripe," Patricia teased as Kyle poked his head into the kitchen. "Hey, this is how a man is supposed to smell, now give me a hug." "No!" Patricia squealed, laughing. Kyle pretended to chase her around the kitchen. She squirmed and dodged until eventually he had her in the corner, arms to either side with her penned in. Patricia curled up defensively but only in jest. They gazed at each other. Patricia knew that look. "Kyle. We can't." But she didn't sound too certain. Kyle held the long pause, then said, "I know. I know it. I can still love you for what we had though, right?" Patricia looked at him adoringly for she felt the same, but the look soon turned to a mischievous one. "Uh huh. I know what you missed." Patricia reached to touched his pants, an obvious bulge there. Kyle recoiled like her hand was on fire. "Been a while?" she asked. Kyle did his best not to whimper. "You were... I mean we were... I mean, the last time..." "It's okay, Kyle. It's really okay. You know you can be with other woman. I want you to... be happy." "I am happy," he said. "You know what I mean. I'm okay with you having sex with other woman. It's not going to change anything between us." "Thanks, Trish," and Kyle leaned in, giving her a kiss. "Don't touch!" she shrieked, throwing up her arms but returning the kiss hard. The kiss lasted a second longer than she wanted it to, about a second less than he wanted. The brush of her breasts against his hard chest bumped something in his shirt pocket and it glowed to life. Patricia caught a glimpse of his cell phone there and saw the last text from Casey. "Oh, you and Casey becoming buddies?" "Yeah, that's some kid you have. It wasn't too long ago you just had a little tike running around." Patricia smiled and grabbed a plate of food, handing it to Kyle. "I think it's good. Casey could use a man in his life. I think he's been going through something." Kyle laughed, hearty and long and almost choked on a bit of broccoli. "Trish, we talked about this. I know your family hasn't always been the best about discussing things but you have to be more open with each other." Kyle gave Patricia one last kiss on the cheek as he left the kitchen, taking his plate of food upstairs. "And that something that Casey's going through?" he said as he left. "It's called puberty." --- Casey had heard them talking downstairs. He snuck to the top of the stairs and caught the tail end of the conversation. "It's called puberty," he heard Kyle say as he head upstairs. Casey quickly raced to his room. Puberty. Or course it was puberty, or at least Casey hoped so. That's why he felt so off, why he'd been behaving weird. All the changes, the urges going on. Soon, hopefully, it would be over and he'd be like everyone else his age. He'd be just another normal boy. And then there was his wound. Casey heard the shower in Kyle's room. Casey tried not to think of the previous night, tried to not think of Kyle in the shower. He would be naked. Casey's insides stirred. No, I can't. There was only five days left till school started. People would notice something off about him, everyone would be able to tell just how awkward he felt. So he needed to do everything he could to prepare, starting with his wound. No more. I have to quit playing with it so it can heal. That night Casey tossed and turned trying to sleep. He would finally settle in only to find his boxers had shifted, sliding around his half-hard penis or else had bunched themselves into one crevice or another. Finally, he half-woke in a fit. Casey's room was kitty corner to his parent's old room. He had once heard that the blue room - the one that Kyle now slept in - was initially suppose to be his nursery. To Casey's mother however this was unacceptable. She demanded to be closer to her child and so Casey's crib instead was placed in the room next door to theirs, a room that was painted a salmon shade of pink, the Pink Room. He couldn't stay there of course. There was his dad's teasing for one but also it wasn't quite big enough for a growing boy. Instead of retreating to the Blue Room when he grew older however, Casey decided to move into the room next door, a room he called the Gray Room. The room had been an unfinished storage room and still retained a lot if it's unpainted, gray paneling. Casey didn't mind. He still felt a coziness for the Pink Room - the room he had spent his infancy in - and wanted to stay close by. Now it was the Pink Room that had become a sort of storage room. In his sleepy haze Casey stumbled towards the door between these two rooms. He yanked at his boxers, pulling them out of his crack and crotch. A sensation burned and his vulva sweated. The boxers were making it worse. Then he saw it. Inside the Pink Room was all manner of junk, laundry and odds and ends. Betsy, who would sometimes spend the night, had also left a generous pile of clothing over the years. Casey hopped back into bed and now, finally comfortable, was ready to go to sleep. His legs were now wrapped in soft, fluffy cotton and his crotch was now comfortably safe from any abrasive or intrusive material. He had put on a pair of Betsy's old, purple pajama pants. Finally comfortable in these soft clothes, Casey fell fast asleep - and dreamed. Casey didn't usually dream in color, nor did he usually remember his dreams. This night the vivid colors swirled and converged into images and themes that rushed through his mind. -A vase sat on a table with hazy sunlight streaming past the flowers in it. A crib rocked in the Pink Room, then there was the face of a ticking grandfather clock. His dad's finger was waving at him in disapproval, inaudible words shouting at him. The vase appeared again, a single petal of the flower fell. The sun sank and rose once again and sank in a rush of time as the rose in the vase grew and opened up. Another dream appeared. -There was a quarter on the bathroom counter top. Casey had just lain it down on the counter after comparing it to his nipple. The quarter began to spin and grow. It grew fast, enormous until it was the size of the nearby sink. Behind him was the shower and a man inside, a shadowy silhouette darkening the drapes. Was it Kyle? The man held his arms above his head, washing. The shadow showed every muscly contour and Casey let his view travel from the man's head to his muscled stomach. Below that a shadowy length protruded out, a strange yet tantalizing shadow that could only be this man's erect manhood. The voice called out to him. It was Kyle's voice. From the shower he mumbled out a name but it wasn't Casey's name. Kyle followed with a suggestive, "Are you seeing anyone?" In bed Casey was now glistening with sweat, his body curled up fetally and hands tucked into his private place. Unconsciously he rubbed his female sex ever so slightly as he slept. -The voice continued again, "Are you a virgin?" Casey twitched again in bed. The vision shifted. -He was looking down as two girls wrestled on a bed in the middle of the Pink Room. At first it was playful, the two girls hitting each other with pillows, rusting each others hair and tickling. The view zoomed closer. One of the girls was Betsy. As the other girl tussled her about, Betsy's shirt moved and shifted. She wasn't wearing anything beneath and her tits bounced around freely, bounding in an out of the cover of the cloth. Her nipples teased their way in and out of view. The other girl was more protective and shy, squealing and doing her best to dodge Betsy's pokes and pushes. Her face was hidden but she had long, blonde-brown hair. She was slender than Betsy who had a more boxy build, but this made her curves stand out all the more. Her hips and ass seemed huge compared to the tiny waist. Her bust, though smaller than Betsy's, still bounced around less than modestly. From the look of it she also wasn't wearing a bra and she did her best to keep her breasts scrunched in her arms and keep them from falling out when Betsy tickled. The girl was failing. Hmm, she's wearing the same purple pajamas I am, Casey thought sleepily. -All at once the dream became not so innocent as Betsy began tugging on the other girls pajamas. The girl tried to hold them up but only weakly resisted and they were pulled down to her ankles. In the dream now, Casey saw through the eyes of the girl, looking down. Looking past the girl's own breasts - when had her shirt gotten removed? - that heaved with every breath. Long nipples stood out from the wide-circle areolas beneath. The girl looked down and saw, as Casey saw, a slit slightly covered with hair, a girl's vagina exactly where it should be. Betsy reached a hand towards its folds and protruding clit that almost looked like a small dick. Betsy had her shirt off also. Her breasts heaved massively in a way that gave the word melons true meaning. Her hand connected with the girl's vaginal flesh. Outside the dream Casey's hand was inside his pajamas doing the same thing. He moaned. -Casey's view was the girl's view now, they were one and the same. Betsy, hand still fingering the girl's pussy, lowered her body on top of her, sliding breast on top of breast until her face was just inches from Casey's view. Betsy's eyes were half-circles of lust, tongue out, leaning forward for a kiss. The kiss was resisted by Casey at first but then he accepted it as Betsy's tongue explored the inside of her mouth. Betsy's hands explored everywhere else. "You just look really pretty, Skye!" Betsy said as the kiss ended. Skye, the girl was named Skye. 'I'm Skye,' Casey thought. A door to the room in the dream opened and in walked a pale, muscled man dripping wet and only wearing a towel. Betsy rolled off of Skye. The girls, still naked, straightened and pretended nothing was out of the ordinary. "Hi, Kyle," both girls said in unison in all-too-innocent sounding voices. "Hi girls!" Kyle said. "Hey Kyle, you're hair is still wet," Betsy said. Without thinking it out of the ordinary, Kyle casually lifted his towel to his hair. He began rubbing his head with it but Casey... Skye could only look below. Kyle's penis was hard and sticking out. "Here, let me help you with that," Betsy said and all of a sudden Kyle had appeared standing at the foot of the bed. Betsy reached out with her hand, grabbing his long, stiff member. Kyle dropped the towel. She reached forward and then took him in her mouth. Skye had seen this once before in a movie but it wasn't quite like this. No matter how far Betsy took him into her mouth, Kyle's penis seemed impossibly long. Betsy struggled to get even half inside. Kyle gave a groan. Betsy gave a muffled groan. Skye thought she was going to explode as Betsy's hand had never left her sex and was still rubbing. Betsy bobbed back and forth. Kyle's eyes closed and he looked like he was about to explode as well. "I think you're ready," Betsy said to no one in particular, pulling away from his cock. Drool was running down her cheek. She at once pounced on Skye, holding her arms down above her head. Skye squirmed but offered little real resistance. Skye looked up into Betsy's eyes, a manic look was on her face. Betsy looked forward then and Skye followed her gaze. At the foot of the bed stood Kyle staring right at her, his full length pointed towards her. Still she struggled against Betsy and her breasts swayed left and right as she did. Her legs however betrayed the rest of the body and opened wide. Kyle moved to the edge of the bed. In his sleep, Casey's fingertips had found the inside of his real pussy. He began stroking in and out slowly. The fingers dipped and pulled, dipped and pulled. The hole in his scar there widened. -In the dream Kyle put his hands on Skye's legs, then caressed them down her thighs. He gripped. Betsy was no longer holding Skye down but she didn't stir. Kyle pulled and Skye slid towards him. She gave a squeal of surprise. Skye looked above her and saw Kyle's huge penis, hanging right above the space between her legs. He leaned in and it moved closer. The skin along Casey's labia had formed up to the base of his penis forming a tiny, upside-down V. As his fingers pulled up, they pulled the folds of skin up with them, up through the opening of the stitched scar that had split like cloth pulled through a zipper. On the bed as in the dream, Skye lifted her ass. -In the dream this let her see a perfect vision of her pussy. It was layered and open, glistening wet with moisture. And above it Kyle's penis hovered and slowly inched closer. "Go on, Kyle," Betsy said, "She needs it." 'Yes,' Skye thought, 'I need it.' The tip of Kyle's penis moistened with a clear, white substance before disappearing out of view. So close now. Dream voices echoed all about the room. Casey arched his back and dug his finger inside him. In the dream Skye rolled her hips and inched herself closer to Kyle. The voices called out to Skye. 'You're so pretty Skye,' echoed the voice of Betsy. Skye heard her mother voice mixing in, 'I'm okay with you having sex with other woman.' Then Kyle's. 'Are you a virgin?' Skye felt him now at her entrance, felt her sex open up to him. She looked up into his eyes and he smiled back at her. Then, Kyle began to press into her. The alarm went off. Casey woke. --- Casey had woke up and, as quickly as he ran into to the bathroom, the dream had begun to fade. Casey's body had been adjusting ever since he had taken that last pill. Blood vessels to the testicles, urinary ducts through the penis, these were unnecessary to a female. Casey's body had begun to close these off to prioritize other areas. He hardly noticed, still sleep hazed, when he sat down on the toilet. Casey couldn't remember having to go to the bathroom this badly. Already his prostate had shrunk down to half its size. As he released, most still going the normal route, an ever so slight amount of urine went another way and dribbled its way out between his girlish folds. The whole next day Casey was a mess. Part of the dream lingered, just enough for Casey to be on pins and needles He even ignored two of the texts he received from Kyle. "Who keeps texting you, honey?" his mother asked, making lunch, "Are you sure you don't want to give them a call?" "Mom! It's no one," Casey huffed defiantly and stormed out. "Aren't you going to eat some lunch?" she called after. "My stomach. I'm not feeling well." Casey wasn't lying, his insides felt runny like an egg. Casey had plopped himself down on his mother's bed. He didn't even mind that it was covered in her panties and bras and they were strewn about him as he sunk into the mattress. Casey's phone beeped again. He looked. It was from Kyle. Bits of the dream came back to him in a flash and he shook them away, disbelieving, and yet still he had to clench his thighs together against the need growing there. I can't. I can't. It'll get worse. "Who is that who keeps calling? Does someone have a crush on you?" Patricia teases echoed from the Kitchen. "Mom!" Casey's protest whined. "I can't believe you. You're so embarrassing." Casey rushed off and as he did one of his mother's thongs stuck to his side all the way up to his room. When he got there it fell to the floor. "What's this? Gross!" he said, crumpling his mother's underwear and tossing it into his closet. The next day was the day of the movie. Betsy had arrived but she seemed too excited to notice Casey. "Where'd I put the movie? Oh! There it is. Are you sure you got the right kind of popcorn, Casey? Your mom says Kyle likes extra butter. Casey?" "Yeah, I got it. Bets, you've asked me three times now." Casey sat on the couch clutching his stomach and sulking. For whatever reason Betsy's mood was souring his own and his stomach still tossed and turned inside. Not to mention he was still very horny. "Okay," Betsy said to herself, then repeated, "Okay. Let's see. Kyle can sit here..." Betsy hovered by the arm on the right side of the couch, opposite Casey, "and I'll sit here, between you two." Betsy grabbed a couch pillow and plopped it in her spot. "If you two love birds are going to be on the couch," Casey said in a pout, "I'm moving to the chair!" Instead of moving right away though, Casey sighed and fled into the kitchen just as his mom was coming out. He shoved his way past her. "Watch it, kiddo! You almost made me drop the drinks," Patricia called after in protest, then to Betsy, "What's wrong with Casey?" "I don't know. He's been acting so moody lately." "You and him are pretty close. All this talking about Kyle, you don't think Casey's maybe a little jealous?" Casey had stumbled into the kitchen but felt light headed, dizzy. He turned down the hall, turned into the bathroom and barely closed the door. He stumbled to the toilet and lifted the lid. He wanted to wretch but nothing would come out. It wasn't his stomach. He felt like that entire area was just clamping down. He had another problem. Casey's penis burned. He had to pee. He zipped down, pulled his manhood through. He stared at it in surprise. It wasn't just that it was tiny. Casey never had much to brag down there. But it was difficult for him to notice that he had perhaps even lost an inch of length, that he could now hold the entirety of what made him male between his thumb and forefinger, that he even needed to pull it out a little. He knew that ridged, puffy mounds of flesh had appeared around his wound. Now however the same kind of skin had been growing all the way up around the base of his shaft. His penis hung inside a valley of flesh now that stretched and sunk all the way around it into a thin crevice. It was like the fleshy mounds had his penis completely surrounded. Below his penis he found at first what appeared to be the perfectly normal sight of wrinkly skin, his testicles he imagined. But the skin was in strips, not the normal rounded shape, and they led back into the hole growing from his opened scar. The skin connected and spread up to his penis, almost like it was wrapped in it. He probed. The skin was thin, like lips. He gave it a tug and instantly regretted it. It pulled all the way into his wound and sent out a shock of stimulation. God, he needed to masturbate so badly. Suddenly, a concern grew in him. My balls! He grasped along the skin, careful not to tug. There. There they were. They felt tiny and... "Ow!" As he put his thumb on one side of the skin and his pointer on the other to encircle one - no wider perhaps than a pea - a sharp pain erupted. Then the pressure built again in his bladder. He'd have to worry about these developments later. Casey aimed his penis at the toilet. Nothing. He didn't feel right. He shook his penis and only a single drop flopped out, plopping into the toilet in one small ripple. Instinctively his butt clenched. He tried to release once more, trying his best to relax. This was an instinct for boys, for as long as Casey could remember he knew how to get pee out. Relax the prostate and let the pressure release. But Casey no longer had much of a prostate and a different instinct was birthing in him. He had to pee so badly. In desperation he tried to push it out. Immediately his thighs spread, his butt unclenched. Immediately relief hit him as he felt himself empty. Then he felt wrong. Casey simultaneously realized nothing was hitting the toilet at the same time he felt a dampness spreading in his pants. He had peed himself! But as he looked at his penis he knew this was impossible. He felt down there and indeed, it felt damp. He had peed all right but from somewhere else. "What is wrong with me?" Casey screamed as he collapsed on the floor. He sobbed and sobbed. There was a shriek from Betsy outside, Kyle had finally arrived. Casey had ran to his room and changed. He hadn't looked at his wound. He simply didn't want to deal with it and luckily no one downstairs brought up his change of clothes when he returned. The movie for the night was some B horror flick called Videodrome. They put the movie in and Betsy started flirting with Kyle right away. First she said some jokes and used the lightest touches of his arm, then his hair. Kyle put up with it well enough and even teased her back. Casey rolled his eyes. "I'm going to get something to drink," he said too loudly as he slunk away into the kitchen. "And I'm going to get some more snacks," Patricia said, following after. "I'm cold," Betsy said as the two left, grabbing Kyles arm. He moved to get up but she had it around her before he could disagree. Casey was pacing back and forth in the kitchen when Patricia entered. He was tapping his feet in between laps. His hand was to his forehead and he looked to be sweating. "Are you alright, sweetheart?" she asked. Casey was startled, realizing his mom was there and his hand pulled up instinctively from where it was dangling by his crotch. He hoped she hadn't noticed. "Mom, it's just. I'm just. Ah!" Casey huffed and began to pace again. Patricia took a step towards him and put a firm hand on his shoulder, stopping him mid-stride. "Honey, you can talk to me. Really. I know we haven't done that much in the past but we really need to start talking to each other." She said this as she brushed a stray wisp of hair from his cheek that had come undone from his ponytail. The strand seemed to reach all the way down to his collarbone. He probably could use a haircut, she thought, ponytail or no. "It's just that," Casey started in, too loudly. He paused and both looked out towards the living room, then he started again more secretly, "doesn't it bother you? Kyle and Betsy like that? You two used to be a thing, right" Patricia would have tried her best to pretend she didn't know what he was talking about but she immediately broke eye contact and felt flush in the face. She straightened and gathered herself as she thought, well, it's not right for me to say he can talk to me without returning the same courtesy. "I'm perfectly okay with it. I'm not sure Betsy is Kyle's type but if those two want to fool around a little I've got no problem with it." Casey almost laughed at this. "Fool around? Mom, Betsy is jailbait compared to Kyle. You can't seriously be suggesting..." "What, sex? And just when exactly do you think me and your father first started trying for you, huh? It took a few years, granted, but we had plenty of practice if you know what I mean." Casey was aghast. He had never heard his mother speak so frankly. "Oh, Casey don't get me wrong. I think people her age - your age should definitely be careful, should think about consequences more than they do but I'm not stupid. I know what happens once hormones get involved. At that point, I don't think age matters too much so long as it's consensual and both parties have really thought it through." Casey's mouth was hanging open and Patricia smiled, lifting a hand to the underside of his chin to close it. She continued. "From now on you can talk to me about things like this too, I want you to know that. Not just about Betsy and Kyle either, I want to know about you. I don't mean to pry and don't tell me now if you're not ready but at your age you can go through a lot of changes and it can be confusing at times. Just know I love you and I'm always here for you, if you need me." She reached in and gave Casey a kiss on the forehead. As she did, she did notice something off about him. His hair color normally had a bit of blonde tinge to it but not this much. It seemed lighter. Not just that but his posture seemed off somehow, the way he leaned to one side putting his weight all on that leg while sticking out his hip. The way his elbow flared out. She saw that he noticed her looking at him and so as to not make it awkward she made the kiss a full hug. She still towered over him a good head's length. Poor Casey, she thought, I hope he gets his growth spurt soon, and she thought about how men in their family had all gotten pretty tall. Of course the women were usually pretty short but that thought never crossed her mind. She turned to leave but it looked like Casey still had something on his mind. "Mom, you don't think those two will actually have sex, right?" Casey said this trying not to sound pouty, hands in his lap and circling his toes, "You were just making a point, right?" She looked back at him and for a second their eyes met. She tried to sound serious. "I don't know. I did mean what I said that I don't think she's his type, but I honestly hope they do. The shadows in this house have hung around too long and we need to clear the cobwebs a bit, move on with our lives and, God forbid, maybe even have some fun." She began to walk out of the kitchen then, completely forgetting the snacks she had come for in the first place. She continued as she left, "We've been far too serious in this house lately and if you ask me everyone in this house - Kyle included - could use a little lay every now and again." Kyle's type, Casey contemplated. The thought came to him and he called after her, still quietly but with some urgency before she could get away. "You've said that twice now, that she's not his type. What do you mean? What's his type?" She stopped. "I don't know. It just seems like Kyle would like someone a little more girly." Then she left the room. When Casey finally did enter the living room, this time with a glass of something that probably had too much alcohol for him considering his small size, he saw Betsy curled up in Kyle's arms watching the movie. Before he realized it he had bit the bottom of his lip and stared at Betsy's cleavage as it heaved so very close beneath Kyles arm and outstretched hand. Maybe I'll sit a little closer, too he thought. He took a big gulp of his drink and regretted it as it burned his throat and nose going down. The loveseat was on the opposite side of the couch that his chair had been and Casey sat on the side closest to Kyle. Neither his mom nor Kyle nor Betsy paid him much attention as he snuck around the back and sat down. The movie rolled on and it was a strange one. The man in the movie was frantic, barely able to tell what was real and what wasn't. He was bombarded by constant hallucinations and dreams. Casey could certainly relate. Something had happened to the man, something Casey had probably missed earlier, that seemed to be the source of everything he was going through. For some reason this made Casey think of the bottle of pills he had upstairs. Had taking them caused something to change inside him? Had not taking them? While Casey puzzled over this the man sat casually on the couch, shirt off, watching television. The program on the TV seemed to be talking directly to the man and the man scratched an odd, red wound that stretched vertically up from his pants to his sternum. Casey had a hard time concentrating. To his left Betsy seemed to be moaning a bit and grinding herself into Kyle ever so slightly. His mom seemed too enthralled to notice anything but the movie. Casey did catch the man on the television talk about 'a growth,' that it was 'not just a bubbling part of flesh.' Casey's attention was again turned back to the movie but he couldn't quite understand what the TV man was saying, it was happening too fast. "It is, in fact, a new organ," the TV said. Casey took another drink, his head had began to spin again. The man in the movie scratched his wound. "Massive doses... will ultimately create a new outgrowth..." these words stuck and as Betsy continued to coo, Casey felt a familiar dampness in his own wound. The show the man was watching concluded ominously and his TV turned off. All of a sudden, the man's stomach began opening up. Both his mom and Betsy gasped at this. Casey tried his best not to. The skin along the man's scar peeled like a slit and then began to open. The man just stared at it, somewhat shocked but also with a manic fatigue. Casey was more shocked as the man held a gun and pointed it at his open wound. The hole was huge but something about the shape made Casey feel queasy. It looked all too much like his wound. The man pointed the gun at the gaping hole as if to shoot himself. This time Casey gasped and turned away. "Don't look away, Skye. You sissy." Betsy called and at once Casey was mad and embarrassed, turning back to watch the flick. The man in the movie now was standing up, his entire hand stuck inside himself. 'His whole hand,' Casey thought, 'how does it fit in there?' Casey curled up into a ball. His innards were bubbling over with that same nausea as before and his stomach muscles all seemed to clamp down and clench. He forced himself to watch the rest of the movie curled up, at points on the edge of tears. He even sucked on one of his fingers to get through it all, a habit he hadn't done since he was little. Finally, the credits rolled. "Well," Patricia said, "that was... different." "Shh," Kyle hushed and motioned to Betsy. Casey uncurled and Patricia looked over as they both saw Betsy fast asleep on Kyle's lap, a content smile on her face. "I think she has the right idea," Patricia said, now scarcely louder than a whisper, "I think I'm going to turn in as well." She left the room. Casey didn't move but watched as Kyle gently lifted Betsy a bit. He moved her as if her weight seemed like nothing and slid out from under her. Casey's eyes widened in surprise though as Kyle took a seat next to Casey on the love seat. "So, what'd you think?" Casey remembered at once Kyle's arm around Betsy. Her moaning, her grinding against him and Casey turned away, trying not to seem angry. "I didn't like it." Kyle didn't say anything back. He was glad to be out from under Betsy, his hard on had been killing him. He had just gotten the stiffness in his penis to go away, though something told him that Betsy wouldn't have minded to get some use out of it. 'I'm okay with you having sex with other woman.' The words Trish had told him earlier still bounced in his head. Kyle wasn't sure Betsy was exactly what Patricia had in mind though. How old was Betsy again? Far too young, he felt. But that wasn't quite it either. Betsy seemed nice and, God, so endowed but she didn't seem to have that sense of humor or that subtle sexiness that Kyle found so endearing about Casey's mother. Betsy might put on an air of refinement most of the time but when it came to men, at least from what Kyle could tell, she acted like she was playing with a toy. "So, you and Betsy seem close," Casey said, probing. Now Kyle looked away. "Look, you don't have to worry. She just wanted to flirt a little." In truth it had been a bit more than that. Kyle was lucky that no one heard Betsy's soft moans or saw as she placed his hand on her breast. Her body language had been begging for him to grab more, to rub more. Her nipples poked out firmly against his hand, even through her bra and shirt. Kyle was, after all, still a man and at that moment he would have taken her if they had been alone. He wasn't sure he would have been able to stop himself. Still, when she noticed him growing hard and motioned a hand towards his pants he grabbed it and gave her a stern look, even as she returned a playful one "If you like her, I won't take her away from you," Kyle guessed. "It's not that." Casey was going to leave it at that but his mom's words came back to him. 'We really need to start talking to each other.' He straightened and faced Kyle. Kyle looked back, noticing the serious look on Casey's face. "You know, it's just been a really long time since you and I saw each other but I feel like we really hit it off over the last few days. And..." Casey tried his best not to tear up, "with dad gone, you're really the only man left in my life. I guess I just wanted that to last a little bit longer without anything changing." Casey tried to resist a frown but it didn't work. "Hey, hey there," Kyle said, pulling him in tightly. "It's okay. I feel the same way about you two." "You do?" Kyle smiled, "I actually wasn't going to tell anyone this until more of the details got straightened out but I'm planning on moving closer into town. I mean, I get most of my work here anyway and it would just work out better, you know? And then, we can see each other as much as you or your mom wants." Casey was beginning to cry a bit now and he leaned into the hug. Kyle whispered into his ears. "See? Nothing's going to change." After awhile Casey grew a bit embarrassed; he was grasping Kyle so tightly. Casey drew away but saw on Kyle's face that he didn't mind. "Say," Kyle asked, "what's with Betsy calling you Skye?" Casey rolled his eyes. "That? Skye is my middle name. Betsy just calls me that when she wants to tease me." "I didn't know that. But I don't know why that would bug you, Skye seems like a nice name." Casey gave him a questioning look. "Nice?" Casey wanted to be offended. In truth, his head was a storm of emotions and he couldn't think straight. Something about the air was causing his mind to fog over. Something about the smell of the air, something about the smell of Kyle... "Well true, it's more of a girl's name," Kyle said. Kyle didn't realize it but a smell was affecting him as well. Casey's vaginal juices were pouring out now and again Kyle's penis was responding but none of this registered mentally. "For a girl," Kyle continued, "I'd say it was a pretty name but I didn't think you'd like that. But still, for you it works... as a middle name I mean." Casey noticed something off about Kyle's pants leg. It was moving. No, not that. Kyle was getting hard! The words Kyle had said caught up to Casey. Pretty for a girl... For you it works... Skye is a nice name... The smell! Casey's insides twitched and he felt the skin around his wound clench. It was moist again, he could feel it. "I have to go," he said and was off the couch in a shot. Kyle was caught off guard. "Wait a sec." Kyle reached to grab him and as his arm shot around Casey's chest his hand fell on Casey's left breast. "Ah," Casey gasped. It wasn't a gasp of pain exactly, it was more pleasurable, more feminine. One of Casey's hand grabbed Kyle's, the other went to his mouth. He thought at once his voice seemed to crack and he hoped Kyle hadn't notice. Kyle noticed. Casey released himself and sped away and Kyle was left with the thought, Man, I'm glad puberty wasn't quite like that for me. Kyle only half-remembered, half-noticed that split second. His arm on Casey's chest, his hand on Casey's nipple. It seemed to scratch out at him, pressing deep into his palm hard and firm. Or maybe he was just thinking again about Betsy's nipples. "Yeah," he said to himself, "that must be it," and plopped down on the loveseat loudly. The drop jostled his tented penis and he just realized he was fully hard again. "Hmm," Betsy stirred. "What was that?" Quickly Kyle crammed a hand into his pants and shifted his hard on to the side. "You're awake now, good. You missed half the movie you know." "Mmm," she said as she stretched, then looked at her watch. "What time is it? Oh shit! I have to go home." Betsy jumped up and as she did, her boob jumped out of its bra, the nipple now showing firm above her tussled shirt. She didn't fix it. Instead, she raced over to Kyle and leaned in. "Mmm, we should do this again soon," and she stole a quick kiss. Kyle was dazed and did a double take between her showing nipple and his hard on, then back as if trying to pretend he saw neither. Betsy caught the glances though and reached in, this time finding her mark before he could stop her and gave his cock a playful rub. "We'll have to take care of this another time," she said and winked. Then Betsy rushed to the door. As it closed behind her Kyle thought, 'Actually, I think I have to take care of this now.' Moments later Kyle was in his bed, stripped down to everything but his white briefs. Only then did he realize, everything in this bed belonged to someone else. He needed something to catch the mess and since he had forgotten to grab anything else he removed his briefs. He began to stroke. Casey had downed the rest of his drink before he went upstairs. He altogether regretted it. It was some sort of Scotch his father used to drink and it made the house quake beneath him. Immediately he stripped and began to finger himself before he caught what he was doing. 'No,' he thought, thinking about how the man in movie had been able to fit his whole hand inside, 'I can't. My wound needs to heal.' He fell onto his bed naked and into a fitful sleep. Almost immediately dreams came to him. -He was on the couch again. Kyle sat next to him watching a movie, oblivious to him. Casey realized he was sitting next to Kyle completely naked. He tried not to move an inch, sitting cross-legged and perfectly still. His crotch was bare in the dream. Free from any penis or gaping wound it looked like a dolls crotch. Then the skin began to peel up like in the movie, opening into a hole. He turned to see if Kyle had noticed. Kyle began to turn around, to see him Casey woke up. He buried his head and tried again. -He was in the bathroom. He once again was checking himself out, inspecting to see if anything changed. He grabbed the quarter off the counter and placed it on his nipple same as before. This time the quarter seemed to cover the entirety of his areola, nothing had changed. He grew relieved but then remembered Betsy as her cleavage had bounced in Kyle's arms; remembered Kyle's hand at it had brushed across his nipples. Before he could stop himself he had one, quick thought, 'I wish they were bigger.' Suddenly the quarter his finger had been holding seemed to press in. No, it wasn't pressing in, the flesh beneath it was puffing out. First it sunk in a half inch, then a full inch until Casey had to adjust his hand. He looked back into the mirror. Suddenly his hair was undone from his ponytail and his face looked softer, his lips fuller. He had breasts - she had breasts! They grew out on every side in firm circles, fast like rising bread. They grew out and began to pout downward under the weight. They grew and grew. Casey saw the quarter now and how the darkened flesh around it began to spread beyond the outlines of the coin. Then the areola began to dwarf it by a half inch, then a full inch. The coin seemed raised from the skin a good inch as well and as Skye looked at her other breast she saw why; her nipple stood out like a tiny finger. She tried to press the quarter back in but the area was too sensitive. The quarter dropped. It was both an electric shock as well as a pulsing need and soon her hands were at her breasts again. She touched, then she brushed. Then she groped, pulled, grabbed. Her breasts grew and grew in her hands until she could no longer hold them with one hand each. They heaved massively, just like Betsy's. She grabbed one with both hands and squeezed and as she squeezed a stream of thin, white liquid dribbled from the nipple. Skye howled in a mix of fear and pleasure. Casey woke up again. "This isn't working," he said to himself, exhausted. He looked down. There on the sheet a massive wet stain spread from his butt. 'What is going on!' he thought but he was more frustrated than worried. He was still more than a little buzzed from the alcohol and very, very horny. 'School starts this week, you have to pull yourself together before the first day.' Casey at once remembered the movie and more so the cabinet with his pills. 'I'll take one before school starts and that should help things. I'll worry about everything else afterward.' The problem was that the upstairs medicine cabinet was in the bathroom next to the Blue Room, Kyle's room. The door to Kyle's room creaked open. Casey peered in. On the bed Kyle snored, sleeping soundly, a sheet half-draped over him. Casey sped from one door to the other, light on his feet until he was at the bathroom. The knob turned. The latch clacked. Kyle gave a snort as if rousing. In a shot Casey was inside the bathroom, heart racing. Did Kyle wake up? 'I hope he doesn't come in here.' The snoring resumed inside the bedroom and Casey resumed breathing. He turned to the mirrored cabinet. Still a bit drunk, Casey saw in the mirror what looked to be the girl in his dreams. The small hairs that outlined the thinned cheekbones, the thinning of the muscles which made the face more rounded, slightly sunken eyes and an even more slightish nose. The girl was pretty, if not possessing the age and experience to be fully beautiful. Casey blinked, dazed, and the girl was gone. Or at least partially gone. His vision was hazy. One moment he saw hints of the girl on his face. He tried to pay no heed to this as he opened the cabinet, reaching for a small bottle of pills. Four remained. He took one and swallowed with a gulp from the faucet. He sat on the toilet and dozed as the drug began to dissolve and disperse within him. The next dream wasn't really a dream when Skye roused, realizing she had fell asleep on Kyle's toilet. Her insides toiled with the pumping of of drugs and artificial hormones and she had to pee. It seemed natural to her and she clenched her stomach, releasing that urge. She then reached for some toilet paper and dabbed it on her vagina when she was done, pulling the purple pajamas back around her waist. Skye crept out of the bathroom, this time more careful with the handle. She still felt drunk, still dazed like this was all a dream. There lay Kyle, now in a different position and completely naked. Kyle had shifted so now he faced up, spread eagle. His dangling prize hung down between his legs. Skye stared. Inside everything stirred. She felt her crotch moisten and she didn't care. She crept to the bedside. Kyle dozed but his body remembered the smell of sex and was smelling it once again. He penis began to stiffen slightly. Skye watched and her eyes grew wider as the shaft seemed to hover off the bed. It was so big! Skye was dimly aware that all of this couldn't be real, that she was really a boy named Casey having a weird dream because of puberty or hormones or whatever. 'It's just like that one dream,' she thought. 'Of course. This is a dream.' Skye knew what she was suppose to do. How had it happened in the dream? Betsy putting her mouth on it, it entering inside Betsy's womanhood. 'No. It wasn't Betsy having sex in the dream.' Words half-remembered echoed in Skye's head. Betsy had said something to her once about love. Skye tried to remember when she had heard it or how it went. 'Love should be selfless. You should devote yourself completely to him.' Skye moved to the bedside as Kyle had in her dream. She remembered something her mother had said as well. 'Kyle could use a good lay.... I want you to have sex with other woman... I want you to be happy.' Skye reached over and grabbed Kyle's cock. It twitched. Slowly his penis was hardening, changing from a capital 'C' to the capital 'I' it would become. She licked her lips. "But I'm too young to have sex," she muttered aloud. Kyle snorted at this. His dream included a young woman tugging on his penis, just like this. It felt good - too good. He was on the edge of waking up. 'When exactly do you think me and your father first started,' her mother answered in her head. Skye leaned in, looking at his penis in a dazed awe. 'I know what happens once hormones get involved,' her mom had said. She opened her mouth; her other hand fled to her crotch. 'It's okay, so long as you think about the consequences.' The consequences, what consequences? She could bring him happiness, selflessly. She could join herself to him, lose her virginity. They could make love, fall in love, get married. Skye tilted her head and tested the tip of Kyle's penis with her tongue. A bit of his juices were there and the salty taste surprised her. 'It's okay,' Skye thought, 'as long as I don't let these urges out in real life. In dreams at least, I can do what I want.' Then she did as she had seen Betsy do. She took him fully in her mouth and began to bob up and down. Kyle jerked. He was having the best dream he ever had. He had masturbated earlier but even so, he was really close to release. He was also close to waking up, close to wanting to live that dream out with any who might be near. Still mostly covered in stitched skin, her finger rammed in and out of the hole to her cunt. Kyle's penis loomed enormous; more than enough to fill her mouth and her tiny hand and then some. Skye couldn't know, but if she kept this up more than just a moment longer he would cum and cumming would be more than enough to wake him. Skye was too busy thinking about how massive he was. In the movie the man had been able to fit his whole hand inside the opening in his wound; Skye was baffled that she could still fit only one finger inside her pussy. 'Too small,' she thought, as the enormity of Kyle's penis slid in and out of her mouth. Her entrance was too small. Her finger rammed in and out, faster and faster. She tried pushing a second finger in. Her wound stretched. "Yes," Skye moaned aloud, "Just a dream. I want you to... be happy." She put a knee on the bed, spreading her legs wide while still pumping his cock. Skye was so close to cumming, if only she could put something else inside. Kyle stirred. The skin snapped and her second finger slipped inside her. Instantly she began to cum and in that same instance Casey woke. 'Oh my God. What have I done? What am I doing!' Kyle was right there, this wasn't a dream! He snorted again. If he woke he would see Casey in front of him, pajamas pulled down and fingering himself like Betsy might. He pulled up the pants and ran. On the way out Casey's foot caught in something. A bit of cloth, now clinging to his ankle. He almost tripped, then balanced on one foot trying to shake it off. Kyle stirred again, this time roughly. Casey panicked, leaving the article on his leg until after he got into his room. Kyle woke, thinking he had seen a woman in his room. "Mmm, Patricia?" Casey in his room inspected the crumpled bit of cloth clung to his ankle. It was a pair of briefs, Kyle's underwear! It had a wet stain on it. At first Casey thought it must somehow be his fault they were wet but he knew that was impossible. Then Casey remembered the glistening liquid from the tip of Kyle's penis. 'No!' It was cum! Casey's body shuttered completely at the thought . His previous orgasm had been all too brief, not as powerful as he needed it to be. His body - her body needed another and now there was the knowledge that she could fit more inside the space that gave her pleasure. When these waves of pleasure hit now, Casey always thought of himself as Skye now - it made them all the more pleasurable. 'Just one last time,' Skye thought again, 'I promise.' She completely disrobed and lay on the bed, face up. She spread her legs. For some reason she had kept Kyle's stained underwear in hand. In the Blue Room she had reasoned that all of this fooling around, all this pretending was okay. 'As long as I only do it in make believe. As long as I keep it private.' He - she thought of the dreams. Skye envisioned her breasts growing. She rubbed them. The nipples stood out straight. She thought of her pussy and immediately began to rub. In her other hand she held the briefs. She brought them to her nose. Kyle's smell was still on them. Her other hand was a mess of her juices. Then she noticed a bulging gob of Kyle's own juices clinging to his underwear. At first Skye thought of tasting it. Her sex pulsed again, pushing more juices out and she thought of a better place to put it. She took a bit of it on her finger, inspected it. It seemed so innocent and yet so powerful, so forbidden. Skye thought again of the movie, of how that man had stuck his entire gun inside himself. Oh, to put Kyle's entire gun inside herself, if only in pretend. This seemed like the next best thing. She stuck the finger in, gob of cum and all. Her body responded. Skye was already on the cusp. The adolescent girl's vaginal canal had lengthened, widened. It was almost ready but now the presence of semen set it into action. The vaginal muscles pulled but nothing was drawn in. Skye obliged the sensation by pushing some in with her finger. Then two fingers. Soon, she found herself pushing even the briefs, wet spot and all into her depths. All the while Skye cried out, "Fuck me! Fuck me! Oh yes, fuck me!" Until the final crescendo hit her. Then Casey at last fell into a sweet, dreamless sleep. --- Casey woke up in the early morning before anyone else, an absolute mess of emotions. He had some luxury of choosing what he wanted to believe what had been real last night and what had been just a dream but most of him knew he had crossed many lines. The shame was nauseating. The thought of what his father might say was crippling, the fact that he had no idea why he enjoyed these things so much was worse. Even still, he remained a horny teenager and part of the thrill was the forbidden nature of his experimenting. Right then, he spied something tantalizing from his closet. Casey knew he would regret it, knew the shame would continue, but part of him thought, what was the use of trying to resist? He dashed to the closet, still naked, grabbed the cloth crumpled there and dashed to the bathroom. Inside he saw the result, he stood there wearing his mother's green thong. He was a little disappointed as he turned to inspect himself. It was a little too big for him but it wasn't just that. He twisted and his butt had its normal, boxy shape so that the edges of the thong made him look more caveman than woman. The sides of the thong rode the bottom of his thigh smoothly enough but the elastic draped loosely, as it was used to more substantial hips to hold it up. Casey wasn't sure just why he did it then but he once again retrieved the quarter and held it to his nipple. It was the same, he wasn't sure why he expected it to be different. This was all so silly after all and Casey once again felt shameful. He wondered if this was a normal thing, if all boys his age went through this. His mom had said he could talk to her but Casey shuddered at the thought. He also wondered how normal it was, that tiny secret dream he had for the tiniest instant before he removed the panties. The dream that he didn't really mind being a girl, if maybe just for pretend.