13 Genders: Gender 1 free porn video

13 Genders: Gender 1 By Monsta I watched as the barista wrote my name on a cup with a worn out sharpie. The cup wasn't the size I had asked and paid for, but since it was a bigger size I didn't mention it. Aside from the free size upgrade, I was also grateful she spelled Olivia correctly. I've never seen Olivia spelled with an "e" outside of Starbucks. In fact, I'm fairly sure one time I got a cup with a "k" in my name somewhere. As I watched the young olive skinned woman go about the ritual of making my high calorie bean juice, I was struck by how beautiful she was. She seemed to be of Greek heritage but probably had a little Latina in her as well. It really was a marvelous combination of heritage, at least in the context of my own shallow opinion that she looked very pretty. I was even willing to admit to myself that she was very attractive. Now a few years ago I never would have thought such a thing about a woman standing in front of me, but the times have changed, and so have I. Sure, I'm still the pale white 30 something blonde married woman I have been for some time, but then again, in some ways I wasn't. I felt like me, I looked like me, but at the same time every day I thought and did things I never would have thought or done before. The world around me had changed, and I couldn't help but change with it I suppose. Then again, maybe it's just that I'm a few years older than I was a few years ago. At least that I knew for sure. I checked out the barista's breasts in short glances, careful not to get caught staring. They were large, DDs at least. She had an apron on so I couldn't check for the telltale bulge in her pants, but I bet she was packing. Type 3 most likely, given the size of her boobs, but maybe type 8. I was no expert at genderspotting, but in my limited capacity I would wager this woman wasn't a standard. The thought that I was more likely to be sexually compatible with this random barista lady than my husband of 8 years was still strange to me. But the world was a strange place these days. Just briefly glancing around the tables at Starbucks I saw nearly half of the people had visible evidence that their bodies had been twisted in some way by the change. Some of the more exotic genders were very obvious. The other half were most certainly affected too, but just not in a way that was obvious to a stranger. One thing for sure, I was probably one of the very few women in here who was just a woman. My husband Duane began changing in February 2013. By then the "changes" were on the news 24/7. If the president had been taken hostage, it probably would have only been reported on that news scroll at the bottom of the screen. Meanwhile, on the screen the panel would be discussing the changes spotted in celebrities and speculating what genders they was becoming. Every once in a while they would trot out an "expert" to make speculations about what was happening. Some online nut jobs claim the changes started on December 21 2012, the Mayan doomsday. Other people point out the changes had been going on in rare cases for some time, they just didn't go full tilt until late 2012/early 2013. Of course, no one knew for sure the when and how of the changes. So, by the time Duane started changing it was already fairly common for people on the news, celebrities, and the people in my life to be undergoing strange changes. About half of my coworkers had changed, and I was finding the toilet seats in the women's room left up more and more often. I guess I sort of tuned the craziness around me out the best I could, because like most people I was afraid to face the strange reality the world was becoming around me. But when it was my husband changing right before my eyes I had to face reality head on, and it was a lot for me to process. I'm upset with myself for having shut down those first few days when he really needed me to be strong for him, but I felt like I was in shock, like the world was going to pieces. Still, I should have been there for him more than I had been. Throughout most of early 2013 I kept checking my own body for signs of changes, but no serious changes ever really came. Sure, I lost a cup size (from D down to C), my feet went up a bit in size (from an 8.5 to a 10 shoe size), and I gained an inch or two in height but overall today I'm still pretty much the same me I had always been. Physically anyway. Duane was not so lucky. His balls pulled inside of his body shortly after Valentine's Day 2013. He had been feeling "off" for a while, but I had attributed it to merely the anxiety most people were feeling over the changes going on. But then one morning he got up to relieve himself and he noticed his boxers were rather loose. Feeling himself down there he noticed right away his testicles were no longer present in his scrotum. Needless to say he was quite upset given the implications. We tried going to the doctor of course, but they were turning away anybody with changes to save room for patients with more serious issues. My husband not having balls was not an "immediate medical care" kind of problem. That evening he asked me to check him out, to look for any symptoms he may have missed. I did, but aside from his empty scrotum I didn't find anything out of place. A few days later his penis began to shrink. His penis had been fairly average, about six inches or so, but within a couple weeks it was half that. I also noticed the skin that had been his scrotum had developed a seam and was beginning to separate down the middle. I don't know if he had noticed at that point yet, but the loose skin below his shrunken penis was beginning to look an awful lot like the folds of labia. We had sex "the old fashioned way" for the last time in mid-March. I didn't feel much of it though, his penis was all but a nub at that point. Or to be more accurate, his clitoris was no longer long enough for penetrative sex. I felt the hard nub brush against my vaginal opening a few times, but it never really "went in." I knew he was trying so hard, and I loved him for it, but his body was betraying him. After a while he tensed up and I felt a dribble of warm liquid dribble down my labia. He had just had his final male orgasm. After he came, Duane just stayed on top of me motionless for a bit. I guess he was processing everything that had just happened. After about a minute he just sort of blushed and rushed off to the bathroom to clean up. After that experience we just kind of stopped having sex. Part of it was he was ashamed of his changing body, the other was that I didn't know how to feel about his new body. On a cold rainy day in early April he calmly told me after dinner that he wasn't male anymore. He didn't provide much for details, but I imagine he found his vaginal opening had appeared. We discussed the possibility that he was becoming a full on woman of course, but since his actual sex organ was the only thing that had changed so far it seemed unlikely. He had no hints of breast development and the rest of his body seemed just as masculine as ever, in fact if anything it was even more masculine. We held each other for a while and cried, both of us scared of what all this meant. We had heard about men gaining female reproductive parts, but still remaining more or less men otherwise. We just had to assume at this point that's what Duane was now, a man with female sex organs. But, was a man with female plumbing really a man? Was he a really a woman if he still had the body of a man? So much of our identity as a person prior to the changes was defined by the gender we were perceived as. Now I had to look at my husband's handsome face and asked myself what I perceived him as. Was I still attracted to him? Did I still love him the same way? As much as I wanted to believe I knew the answer, I couldn't convince myself of my own feelings. The truth was I didn't know. I had never been married to a man with a vagina before. For the next couple weeks we went about our usual business as best we could. Duane having a vagina didn't mean we could stop living our lives of course. We went to work, cooked meals and watched TV like normal. The only time "it" was really brought up was at the grocery store, where I helped Duane pick out feminine hygiene products. I recommended he use pads for his first few periods, until he had a better understanding of what his typical flow was like. It was a conversation I never expected to have with my husband. But aside from the fact Duane no longer left the toilet seat up our daily lives were pretty much the same. He still didn't want me to see him naked though. He had bought some larger sized pants to disguise his lack of a bulge in the groin, but despite his best efforts I had spotted a definite camel toe a few times. We both knew what was down there, but neither of us was ready to address it yet. Sometime in Late April Duane came back from a doctor appointment and told me he was officially "finished," whatever that meant. I had a pretty good idea but didn't press him for further details. The following weekend as I was cleaning I put some of his things away and saw a few pamphlets and an appointment summary from his doctor visit. Turns out he had been in to see Dr. Kwan, my gynecologist. I had been in to see her myself just a few days earlier. Of course, Duane probably had a lot more questions for her than I did. The only question I had for my gynecologist at my appointment was if I could potentially be starting the changes soon. For the past few months I felt like a passenger on a crashing plane, knowing something bad was coming, but being unable to do anything about it. Part of me just wanted it over with, the waiting was terrible, not knowing how I would be changed. Although ironically, given Duane's changes, if I sprouted a big thick cock at this point it would actually improve our situation. Dr. Kwan was reassuring, and very professional. She did an exam, a quick ultrasound, and a few simple blood tests. At the end she gave me some shocking news. I had already undergone the change! I was understandably confused of course, and she told me I was what they were referring to as Gender 1, pretty much the same female I had been. Aside from a few internal reconfigurations, the only physical difference I would notice was that my vaginal canal was larger than before. With a bit of roundabout vague doctor speak, I gathered she was telling me my larger vagina was to "accommodate" some of the new genders. She didn't need to elaborate, I had seen some of the bulges on a few of the women at my office. The other news I got was that my PCOS was gone, the changes seemed to have reset everything down there. I was a fully fertile, normal "Gender 1." I had heard the AMA had put out a list of the more common Genders last month, but to be officially rubber stamped as a "1" was kind of, well, clinical. I even saw her update my medical record's gender entry from "F" to "1." I looked at the list she gave me and saw the description for Duane's gender. Duane was a 4. We weren't a man and a woman anymore, we were a 1 and a 4. Before I left she told me I should go off birth control, because it was no longer needed for PCOS symptoms, among many other reasons. Oh, and throw in the fact that my primary sexual partner was no longer equipped to impregnate me. Prior to all the changes I had a pretty advanced case of PCOS, which greatly reduced my fertility. Not helping matters any, Duane also had a low sperm count back when he still had testicles. We had tried having kids for a number of years but never had any luck. We had actually given up on trying, and then all the changes happened. I continued to read Duane's doctor notes, which showed he was equipped with the same equipment I had. The testicles that had vanished from his scrotum back in February had ascended up into his abdomen to become very healthy ovaries. His uterus was well formed and his fallopian tubes were listed as open and normal. He had fully "female" "type A" reproductive organs and his new parts were in perfect working order, just like mine. I shook my head and let out a sigh as I read the notes. We had struggled with infertility for years, and now we were both perfectly fertile, but we were both fertile FEMALES. Duane was kind of moody for a while after his appointment with Dr. Kwan. I can surmise that sitting with his legs in stirrups while she placed a speculum into his new feminine orifice and examined him had been, well, emasculating to say the least. It would be very hard to feel like a man after your first trip to the gynecologist, after all. For a while he was still too embarrassed to let me see him naked. We made small moves toward each other, to let each other know we still loved and cared about the other, but it never went past a certain point. I'm sure we both realized we'd have to face reality at some point, but we both kept pushing that point out as far as we could. We both engrossed ourselves in distractions, we both were afraid to move forward. Neither of us wanted to face what might be lying ahead of us. I had been going to the gym off and on for years, mostly off. But with the awkward situation I found myself in with Duane, I started going after work more and more often. Working out seemed to help keep my mind off other matters. One day in August while changing in the locker room I saw a young woman I knew named Lisa. We had taken several cycling classes together, and sometimes chit chatted. She was one of those quasi friends you forced yourself to make polite casual conversation with whenever you saw them. Over the years of casual chit chat I had learned she was a paralegal at a nearby law firm, she liked Mexican food, and she had a live in boyfriend named Devin that spent most of his time playing video games. We made some of our typical idle chit chat as we both got changed into our workout outfits. Things were pretty normal until she dropped her panties and I saw the largest penis I had ever seen in real life. Given the sheer size of it, and the massive orbs below it, I can only assume she was a type 8. I hadn't seen a penis in some time, and the fact hat there was one right in front of me that was so, well, big...I kind of was mesmerized by it. She noticed me gawking at her new equipment, despite my best efforts to be nonchalant. She just gave an awkward smile at me and said, "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. It's not like they have a lot of different locker rooms, ya know? There's still just the two. I tried using the locker room that had been the men's, but, it was too gross. There are still a lot of men in there. And women like me make them act, weird." "It's fine." I said with a smile, "No point being embarrassed by stuff like that these days." For a brief moment she seemed relieved I wasn't terrified of her new monstrously male appendage. For a brief moment after that she seemed to be pondering possible other reasons WHY I had been staring at it. To deflect her attention from me, I asked about her boyfriend, Devin. "How has Devin handled, well, you know, your change?" She just sort of shrugged and said, "Devin sometimes has a hard time accommodating me, but we manage I guess." My expression must have given away me picturing a still very male Devin 'accommodating' Lisa's new manhood. Because she quickly spat out "No no no, it's not like that I mean, he changed too. So, we are ok." "Oh, so, I take it Devin has a vagina now?" I said with an awkward smile. "He has two of them, actually. He's a hermaphrodite, type B. One vagina is a regular one, the other is uh, you know, not...regular." She trailed off and the conversation stalled at that point, as neither of us really enjoyed were it had so rapidly headed. She had just disclosed a lot of information she hadn't really intended to share with a casual gym buddy. We both just silently went back to getting changed. My face was flushed with embarrassment, and I imagine it was beet red. As soon as Lisa left I quickly ducked into a nearby stall. I took a few deep breaths to try to compose myself. My face felt hot and I assumed it was from blushing, but then again, I began to realize embarrassment wasn't the only thing I was feeling. I slipped my hand into my panties to feel myself, and I was moist with arousal to say the least. I was wet in fact. I slipped a finger inside myself and felt for the first time that Dr. Kwan had been right, I was a lot bigger down there. With penises out there now like the one Lisa had, that was probably a good thing. I moved my finger around inside me for a bit and began to take notice of how good it felt. It had been so long since I had been penetrated, and I guess I missed it more than I cared to admit. I began to wonder what it would feel like to have Lisa's huge hard rod slide inside me. I suddenly snapped back, and pulled my finger from my enlarged vaginal opening. I realized was more turned on than I had been in a long time. And I had no idea what that meant. In late August while attending a BBQ at our friends' house, Duane "came out" for the first time to someone other than me. It was kind of embarrassing, but, probably a necessary step in getting us both to accept things and move forward. We had been chatting with a couple we knew, Nathan and Ellen. Ellen had attracted some attention when she showed up to the BBQ with a new addition. Since we had last seen her a third breast had sprouted in between her original two. Sure, she had taken some effort to hide it but it was still pretty obvious she had three boobs. After catching more than a few people making awkward glances toward her chest, she started telling people that she was a Gender 9, a vessel. Once a group of people got onto the topic of "the changes" it seemed to be all they talked about. I for one was sick of it, but then again I didn't say anything because I had been fortunate enough to not go through any substantial changes myself. Before long Nathan and Ellen were dumping their whole medical file and sex life into our lap. I found it all rather disturbing but Duane listened to every detail with enthusiastic attention. Nathan was a Gender 6, meaning he was technically female, but only in the function that he produced eggs now instead of sperm. He still had a penis. With Ellen being a vessel, he said they planned for her to get pregnant using somebody else's sperm, with him of course providing her with one of his eggs since she didn't have any of her own anymore. They blathered on and on about their great new sex life and their plans to find a perfect sperm donor. I don't know if Duane thought for some reason they were hinting at him that they wanted his sperm or what, but all of a sudden Duane blurted out that he was a Gender 4. After nervously yammering on for a bit, Duane shut up and everyone looked at me. Suddenly I was the one on the spot. They expected me to say what I was, and weirdly, they seemed disappointed when I said I was still just me, a regular old Gender 1 female woman. They seemed to be offering condolences to us that I hadn't sprouted a dick or some weird alien genitals. They eventually asked us how we were handing our "situation" and we both feigned that we had already addressed the thing we had not. We acted like we had already started having sex again. It didn't seem fair. Nathan got to keep his penis, and Ellen got an extra boob and an increased sex drive. Meanwhile Duane and I had been thrust into an awkward lesbian relationship, one where we didn't actually have sex. On the car ride home I put Duane on the spot. We hadn't been intimate in 5 months and I wanted us to reconnect. I wanted us to have sex. He just sighed and said, "Hun, I miss us being intimate too, it's just that I'm still not comfortable with you know, it." I rolled my eyes a bit and shot back "what? Your pussy? I know you have a pussy Duane, it's not a secret. Hell, thanks to your outburst confession, all our friends now know you have one too." Duane looked down at the steering wheel and mumbled, "Please don't call it that." I rolled my eyes again and replied flatly, "Fine, your vagina then." He looked at me for a brief bit and said, "Look, hun, I know you know what I am now. I just, don't feel like a man anymore, Olivia. I don't know how to be your husband when I'm not a man. I'm afraid if you see my, um, my stuff, that you won't ever be able to see me as a man again." "We're going to have to have sex again sometime Duane, we can't be celibate forever. A sexless marriage is not healthy. I don't care if we lick each other, scissor, or, whatever, let's just do SOMETHING. I miss the intimacy and just want to feel close to you again." He argued for a bit more, but eventually agreed. When we got home we both made our way to the bedroom. I got undressed first, and he followed. When he laid down on the bed and spread his legs a bit I finally saw the delicate folds of his...womanhood in the place where his manhood had once been. My husband had a pussy. I had known for some time that he did, but somehow seeing it made it real. There in my husband's groin was an unmistakably feminine sex organ. Maybe he had been right. Maybe now that I had actually seen it, he would never be a man to me again. We made out for a bit, with both of us nervous to make the first real move. Finally, he positioned himself over me, in our usual missionary position. Only now, this position only served to make it painfully obvious something was missing. Sure, it felt kind of nice to have his moist softness moved over my groin, but it also drove home what he had said earlier. Whether I admitted it or not, my husband wasn't really a man. He couldn't penetrate me. He couldn't fuck me in the way I ached to be fucked. I had fought so hard to make love again, thinking it would bring back the passion we had lost. But instead, it seemed to only reiterate why we had been so awkward since we both found out we have the exact same reproductive organs. As Duane moved about awkwardly doing his best attempt as sex, I looked over the rest of his body and saw it had changed a lot since I had last seen him fully naked. While his genitals had quickly surrendered to womanhood, in the months that followed the rest of his body had become defiantly more male. He had been working out more too, and he was in pretty good shape now. Like me, I imagine going to the gym was to try to keep his mind off of things more than anything else I suppose. Perhaps a little of the motivation was to appear as attractive to me as possible because he was ashamed of the thing between his legs. His jaw is more defined. His facial hair thickened and he grew himself a very nice goatee. He is more handsome and manly than ever. If he had looked like this before the change, I would have truthfully described him as a hunk. And yet, when we make love now that one part of him is still undeniably female. Our first lovemaking session hadn't gone like I had hoped, to say the least. After Duane's attempts at more traditional sex positions failed, we moved on to awkwardly fingering each other. For a while, that was our sex life. Awkward lesbianism. We tried oral sex a few times but neither of us really enjoyed that too much. We watched a few lesbian pornos and did some research but our sex life didn't get much better. It all came down to the fact that I wasn't a lesbian and neither was Duane. I kept thinking about that moment in the gym with Lisa. I remembered how I had felt when I had seen her huge cock. I began to wonder if maybe I was attracted to women with penises now. I tried masturbating to Gender 8 porn, and it was fairly effective. For comparison I tried masturbating to porn with traditional guys a few times, but to be honest they didn't look as masculine as Duane did, and they didn't have dicks as big as the Gender 8 women. After all my experimenting I knew for sure I was still attracted to Duane, at least until he took his clothes off. He was very much a man to me in all other aspects in my life, but he wasn't a man to me sexually. He couldn't be. And of course it only got harder to think of him as a man after our periods synced up. Over the next couple months I noticed that when I started my period now I would find Duane's pad wrappers in the bathroom trash too. We were a husband and wife with matched up menstrual cycles, and that was weird to think about. Through the end of summer and early fall 2013 our marriage kind of entered a zombie state. We functioned, but the spark was gone. It's strange to actually think about how much sex defines a couple. Sex is actually a very small part of your relationship in the physical sense. Think about it what percentage of your time with your partner you spend actually having intercourse, it's probably like a fraction of a percent. But in the psychological aspect it is a huge part of how you are defined as a couple. We tried the toys of course, and while they felt nice, a piece of silicone rubber is not a penis. I missed feeling him inside of me. I missed the feeling of him making love to me as he once had, the feeling of him taking me. And of course the downside to bringing in the toys was that it meant I eventually had to take my turn with the penis. I freely admit I was not excited about strapping on a rubber cock and fucking my husband. I said no the first couple times he asked, but I eventually did it to make him happy. And much to my surprise he was very happy. Or, at least as happy as he could be considering he was breaking in his new vagina with its first round of penetrative sex. It had been so strange to see my big strong husband, the man in my life moan and bite his lower lip like a young woman having sex for the first time. Of course, the truth was, he was in a way a young woman having penetrative sex for the first time. My rubber penis was sort of "popping his cherry," and taking his feminine virginity from him. He was probably going through what I went through the first time I had sex. It was a mixture of excitement, fear, pleasure, and of course some pain. For a few days after our newest "first time" Duane was a little shy and quiet around me. I imagine getting fucked by his wife, literally, for the first time was yet another cause to question his masculinity and his sexuality. He didn't question things for too long though, the following weekend he asked for more. But after a few times of us swapping the plastic penis in our relationship back and forth it was more than obvious my husband now enjoyed being fucked way more than he enjoyed fucking. He went through the motions when he was on top of me but enthusiastically surrendered to feminine moans of bliss when he was on the receiving end. For a man who hated having a vagina, he sure liked having sex with a vagina. Once he was able to enjoy sex again, Duane started to become more and more like his old self. In fact, he was becoming even better than his old self. In addition to being back in the gym he had restarted his carpentry hobby, and had even picked up a few handyman side jobs. He was making peace with his new life, and was finding masculinity in his life outside the bedroom. For the most part, I was happy with the new Duane. He was the rugged and handsome manly man I had dreamed of marrying when I was a little girl. He was kind hearted and caring but with an old school firmness and authority you'd expect from an old school kind of man. The only downside to the new Duane was our actual sex life. Just as he had embraced his manliness in his everyday life, he had embraced his femininity in his sex life. But that meant our sex life was becoming lopsided, with me becoming more and more entrenched in the role of the man. In bed he acted like a young woman who was discovering herself sexually because well, that's exactly what he was. When it came to sex and literal genitals, Duane was very much a young woman who was figuring out what he wanted sexually. And his manly confidence in non-sexual matters was translating almost directly into feminine confidence in sexual matters. He never told me straight out in actual spelled out terms, but he was making it very clear what he wanted sexually. Women do have a way of making it clear what they want in bed, after all. And Duane was even better at it than I was. We ended up buying a few more strap-ons, all fitted for me of course. Duane would still use a dildo on me, rarely, and he still did some oral stuff sometimes but yeah, I was clearly the man in our sex life now. He wanted to be taken, he wanted to be submissive and feminine, and he wanted...pretty much exactly what I wanted as a woman. In a weird way, I kind of missed our awkward lesbian phase. At least then Duane didn't treat my vagina like the pullcord on an old outboard motor, something you had to pull on a few times to get it ready to take you for a ride. He was getting me to orgasm, yeah, but it was clear he considered it a chore he had to do before I'd strap on my rubber penis and fuck him. But I guess seeing Duane so happy made me reluctant to ask for more from him. Over the fall of 2013 he became more selfish sexually, and I turned once again to internet porn and masturbation to meet my unmet womanly needs. We had quite a few toys around the house now, and if Duane wasn't going to use them on me I guess I would use them on myself. Speaking of toys, with most people on the planet having gone through an unplanned sex change, the adult toy market had made leaps forward and become far more mainstream. As the holiday season of 2013 approached a lot of stores were putting in "Adult Gift" sections in addition to the usual holiday displays. I went through one of these out of curiosity and it gave me a little perspective. I saw things I had never seen before, and to be honest I wasn't even sure what they were for. I guess the other genders have some fairly complicated sex lives. As I was looking over the odd toys trying to guess their functions, I saw a few other people looking around. A few were curious people, like me, a few were there to nervously grab something specific before running off, and a few were couples browsing together. One of the couples that caught my eye was a mostly feminine looking person in an oversized red jacket shopping and holding hands with a semi masculine looking person in a corny holiday sweater. They were laughing and going through some things that looked like W's with handles. After they seemed to settle on one, the feminine person went in to give a big kiss to her partner. At first, her partner was really into it, but after a few moments pushed the woman away and whispered a little too loudly "Tiff, stop it! You're going to get me pregnant." The woman grinned and whispered something back to her partner I couldn't make out. But based on their expressions I gathered she was making it pretty clear she wouldn't mind if he got pregnant. Well, I say "he" because I don't know for sure what a Gender 11 pronouns are officially. I had never seen a Gender 11 in real life, at least not one that I knew about. Statistically speaking, I probably had 4 or 5 of them working in my office, but they weren't advertising their condition. Seeing one now, I couldn't help but look "him" over, curious if there was anything unusual besides his muted masculinity. But after a bit I got worried they would catch me staring, so I left the adult aisle and went two rows down to shop for laundry and dishwasher detergent. Still, I found myself thinking about what their sex life was like. Obviously the "guy," who was a Gender 11, didn't have any actual genitals. So, I guess their sex life depends a lot on what the "woman" was equipped with. He was licking or sucking something down there on her a lot I assume. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to have no traditional genitals, to have only your mouth for sexual needs. The more often I saw wildly mismatched couples the more I began rethinking my own sex life. I came to the conclusion it wasn't that bad, and it could have ended up a lot worse. Pretty much everyone was having to adapt to something new, and I guess my husband and I were fortunate we are still able to have a mostly normal sex life. Outside the bedroom he was the perfect man, he even had been more romantic towards me since I started taking over the "top" role in the bedroom. The other day he cooked me a romantic dinner with wine and roses and I had barely noticed. I often noticed when he was selfish in bed, but I had been even more selfish outside of bed. Would I be happier if he still had a penis? Absolutely. It would probably even be better if I had an actual penis instead of using a rubber one. At least then our sexual dynamic would be "natural." But like I said, it could have been a lot worse. He could have ended up with no genitals at all. Or he could have become a Gender 9 who would pester me to bring other people into our sex life until I either ran away from him or took a place in line behind random people waiting to fuck him. Or either one of us could have ended up like my dad, only able to have sex with ourselves. That evening after I got home I took Duane in my arms and made out with him passionately. He was a little taken aback at my aggressive move, as he was usually begging me for more attention. I took things even further, and led him upstairs for some rather forceful lovemaking. I held him down, and I thrust my rubber penis into him with the same force and passion he had once used on me. As I listened to his feminine moans of bliss and lust, I found myself getting into things more than I had in a long time. I was focused less on what I was doing and more on what I was feeling. The dildo was hitting against my clitoris with each thrust, and I began to focus on that. Before long, I was getting worked up, and was even getting close to orgasm. Then Duane did something I wasn't expecting. Out of nowhere he suddenly blurted out, "Oh yeah. Fuck me. Fuck me baby! Fuck my tight little pussy with your big cock!" I was a little startled, but I kept going. It was actually kind of hot to hear my big strong man talk like that. I actually started talking back. "Oh, you like that? You like getting fucked like a little bitch?" "Yes, oh fuck yes. Fuck me. Fuck me hard!" Then, without warning, something wonderful happened. We came together, at the same time. As I collapsed on top of my lover I realized it was the first time that had happened in over a year. After he had regained his composure Duane looked at me and said, "Wow, that was amazing! Perfect even. What brought all that on?" I just sort of shrugged and told him, "Oh nothing. I was just in the mood I guess." He grinned devilishly at that. "You should get in that mood more often. That was exactly what I wanted." I bit my lower lip a bit and softly asked him, "You didn't get offended when I called you a, you know, did you?" "Of course not. It was pretty hot in fact." I was sort of surprised by his quick answer, so the next few times we made love I intentionally brought in dirty talk and some role playing to see just how far my husband's submissive feminine sexuality went. Turns out, it's pretty far. I knew that meeting him in the middle sexually meant that I would still be pretty far over the line as far as our roles. Mentally and physically, I knew now that Duane was completely incapable of meeting my needs as a woman. However I could meet his needs, with a little compromise on my part. It wasn't a great situation for me, yeah, but it is way better than it could have been given all that had happened. I accepted my role as "the man" in our sex life, and I feel like our relationship is a lot better for it. I eventually even admitted my porn habit, and he didn't mind I got off to well hung women sometimes as long as I didn't go looking for the real thing. As December arrived the march of parties and family gatherings proceeded as normal. I had actually hoped things would get skipped this year, we had enough going on without adding in extended family problems. I guess after a crazy year everyone just wanted to get back to something normal. And what's more wholesome and normal than the holidays? But of course as much as people wanted to pretend otherwise, things were not normal. And of course, seeing family members you hadn't seen in a while suddenly looking very different led to a lot of discussions about the changes. Now I had seen my dad last summer and I already knew that he had grown boobs, but seeing him now for Christmas I couldn't help but notice they looked a lot bigger. Either they had grown more or more likely he wasn't bothering to bind them down anymore. My dad had become a Gender 10, a self-cloner. Thankfully, he was too old to have any kids. He had looked into getting his Formani removed just in case, but the doctors told him it was unnecessary and they were avoiding any non-essential reproductive surgeries. Humans had never had formanis before. Well actually, the organ hadn't even existed in nature before! So no one knew for sure what would happen if they performed surgery on one. My mom looked pretty much the same, and she wasn't saying anything about her changes so I guess it didn't really matter. Her husband was a Gender 10, so he was never going to have sexual feelings or experiences with her again, so her Gender didn't matter to him either I suppose. Despite their new differences my mom and dad made it clear quite often they were still happily married and planned to stay together. I felt bad for my mom though. Whatever she was she probably still had sexual thoughts and needs. Needs that a Gender 10 husband is incapable of fulfilling. Most kids don't like to think about their parent's sex life but in this case I was sad to know theirs was over. Sure dad could probably force himself to "do stuff," but he wouldn't be into it and she would know it. Their love and bond had formed a family and produced me and my two brothers, and they would never experience that bond ever again. Speaking of my 2 bothers I guess I should point out that one of them is a sister now. My brother Matt had become a Gender 5, a very rare change for a person who had started as male. He now went by the name Trisha. It was weird to see him this way of course, but I had to admit he, sorry, SHE looked amazing. She was a bit shorter overall with a very feminine appearance, medium sized breasts, and shoulder length blonde hair. And she was very fit and athletic looking. As Matt, Trisha had never been too into athletics or fitness, but he had kept himself in reasonable shape and went to the gym sometimes. Now, a very fit looking Trisha boasted openly that she hadn't been to the gym in months. I had been going to the gym regularly for months and I didn't look nearly as fit as her. I was jealous of the Gender 5 fitness boost of course, but at the same time I wouldn't want semen coming out of my vagina. Although, it WOULD solve my and Duane's fertility incompatibility. Prior to the change Matt had been dating a woman named Amanda, but after he became Trisha she ran off. Trisha didn't seem too upset about it though, she claims she is only attracted to masculine looking Gender 7 Hermaphrodites now anyway. My youngest brother Brian wasn't forthcoming about what he was but it was pretty obvious what his wife Nancy was. Her breasts were gone and all the femininity had been drained from her. She looked like a 20 year old boy who had skipped puberty. She was a Gender 12. At the time, everyone assumed Gender 12's were sexless, and didn't have a gender. That was technically true but it wasn't until the first splits started to happen in 2014 that the whole "division" part of Gender 12s became widely known. Nancy eventually split in 2015, becoming a Gender 2 man named Nathan and a Gender 8 woman who kept the name Nancy. I ended up meeting both of them and they were both, well, Nancy. At least, they both had all the memories of Nancy. Much to everyone's surprise Brian ended up staying with Nathan, while Nancy moved to Oregon to become a nurse. Of course, we didn't know any of that about Nancy's Gender when we first saw her. For all we knew, she was just a sexless mannequin and always would be. Trisha, always the curious type, kept asking Nancy questions that were obviously making her uncomfortable. Even though Brian was shooting her dirty looks, Trisha didn't get the hint. Eventually Nancy got up and dropped her pants in front of Trisha and said loudly, "Here. Take a good look and see for yourself. I've got nothing to hide." Trisha suddenly got quiet as she stared at the smooth skin of Nancy's groin. It was odd. There wasn't even hair, it was just flat featureless skin. After a few seconds Nancy pulled her pants back up and sat back down next to Brian, who was a combination of embarrassed and angry. So yeah, Christmas 2013 at my house was a little weird. It got a little weirder when my dad excused himself suddenly during dinner to go upstairs to the bedroom for 20 minutes. Nobody said anything, but we all knew what it was. Gender 10s can't have sex or masturbate but their bodies did experience "sex" on their own from time to time. The internal folds of the Formani will begin to move around and against each other, involuntarily causing pleasurable sensations to build until climax. The person has no control over the process, it just happens. It's just unfortunate my father's body picked the middle of dinner to decide to have sex with itself. Duane's family gathering the following Saturday wasn't much better. His dad had stayed a Gender 2 classic male while his mom had become a Gender 3, a woman with traditionally male equipment. So, just like we were unwillingly thrust into a relationship with 2 vaginas, they had been unwillingly thrust into a relationship with two penises. In the same way Gender 4 men became highly masculinized when gaining their vagina, Gender 3 women became highly feminized during their change. Duane's mom had exaggerated feminine traits now, including oversized breasts. She looked a lot different overall from when I had last seen her, and actually looked very good for a woman in her 50s. She did a pretty good job hiding her bulge too. Duane's dad was a jokester type, or at least he thought he was. He was the kind of guy who was always laughing and making jokes at gatherings. And it would seem he was compensating for the awkwardness in his life by simply telling more jokes to try to lighten the mood. The fact he was aware of the situation Duane and I were in led to a lot of bad jokes about us being "perfectly matched" and of course "having a lot in common." I saw Duane's mom roll her eyes a lot, and even caught her elbowing her husband a few times. The drama really got started though when Duane's sister Wanda arrived with her husband Michael and oddly, some random woman named Gina. Now, I wasn't trying to notice this but it was plainly obvious Gina was a Gender 9. It wasn't too hard to figure out because she had 6 breasts, and they were rather large too. There were 3 sets of two running down her torso, with the lowest set hanging about where her naval would be. She had them wrapped up somehow and she was wearing a conservative sweater, but yeah, there's no hiding 6 D sized boobs. Wanda freely admitted that, like her mom, she had become a Gender 3. Even if she hadn't admitted it I probably would have guessed that. Her breasts had doubled in size since I last saw her and she had a not so subtle bulge in the yoga pants she had worn. Now Wanda had never been the most socially subtle person, but wearing yoga pants to a family dinner was pretty "bold" given her change. Michael then piped up that he is a Gender 6 now, which we all awkwardly had to explain to Duane's dad is a man who has a penis but produces eggs instead of sperm. Of course, this does a lot to explain why they had brought along Gina. Before they even said anything I had gathered that Gina wasn't just a new friend, she was their new sexual partner. They told us flat out that they had decided to have Gina move in and become part of their family, and they are pursuing a non-traditional 3 person relationship. All three of them were in love, they said. I had heard non-traditionals were getting more common now, but I hadn't expected one to happen so close and so fast. Oh, and during dinner they also dropped the bombshell that Gina was pregnant with Wanda and Michael's child. It probably still wasn't as awkward as my family dinner had been, but it was pretty close. On the drive home Duane and I talked a lot about our families, our friends and the world now in general. We also talked a lot about our own relationship, which was really healthy for us to finally do. It felt good to finally get everything out in the open. As we talked I fell in love with him all over again, and I recommitted myself to our marriage, and whatever that entailed. I thought everything was settled, but then Duane dropped one last surprise on me. When we got home he held my hand, looked me right in the eyes and said, "I want to carry our children for us." I stammered back, "W..what?" He told me, "Look, I know this has been hard on you. It's been hard on both of us. But I love you and want to have a family together." He must if seen the confusion in my face because he then said, "I'm going to use a sperm donor. An ONLINE sperm donor, of course." I smiled and asked him, "Are you sure? I mean, I could still carry them or we could split it maybe." He just smiled a bit and said, "It's no secret you're the man in our sex life now. I know that you've given up some of your sexual wants and needs to help me fulfil mine, and I really appreciate it. This is the LEAST I can do to repay you." I chuckled a bit and blushed. I had to admit, the thought of having kids without having to go through pregnancy and labor was pretty appealing. I gave him my answer by kissing him deeply and forcefully, and then taking him to the bedroom for the fucking of his life. I didn't ever dream my life would turn out this way, but I have to say I'm pretty happy. I sipped on my Starbucks a bit more as I thought some more about how long ago the old times seemed. It was hard to believe it had only been 5 years ago when everything had been normal. Of course the idea of normal now seemed rather odd. I could barely remember what Duane's penis had looked like, and struggled to think what it had felt like inside of me. Over the years our sex life had evolved to the point where I was now a true dominant, and Duane was a true submissive. The idea of him being sexually aggressive or doing anything "to" me seemed as odd and foreign as, well, him having a penis. We were a normal husband and wife outside the bedroom but inside I was in charge, and I liked being in charge. Right about then Duane's waving arm finally caught my attention. He and our 3 year old daughter Jess were sitting a table at the back corner of the Starbucks, patiently waiting for me. As I walked up Duane smiled at me and asked, "Everything ok hun?" I smiled back and said, "Yeah, I was just thinking about things for a bit." Duane let out a mock annoyed "tsst" sound and asked me, "Oh, were you thinking about how lucky you are to still be able to have sugary coffee drinks?" He then stood up and arched his back, patting his distended 8 month pregnant belly for emphasis. I chuckled and replied, "Hey, you got yourself into that situation, remember? Besides, after you have the baby you'll be able to drink whatever you want. Meanwhile I'LL be stuck going alcohol free for another year while I breastfeed." Duane may be just as capable of having babies as a more traditional looking and functional woman like me, but he still lacked the breasts of one. The changes had made his nipples tiny, and had decimated any residual mammary tissue his old fashioned pre change male body may have had. Gender 4s were the manly looking Gender, after all. Well, when they weren't massively pregnant anyway. But even preggo, Duane still looked pretty hunky in my opinion. We didn't like formula so I had induced lactation for our daughter, and was doing so again for our upcoming child. I had a pretty good supply going already, and was pumping twice a day to prepare for our new arrival. As I took a long sip of my Starbucks Duane sighed and told me, "I'm going to need a lot of booze after I deliver this big baby I have in here. I'm a month from my due date and already feel bigger than I was when I had Jess." I had to admit, he looked very pregnant. We had used the same sperm donor we had used for Jess, because we both thought she looked a lot like me in her online profile. But this pregnancy was advancing a lot faster than the last one. There were rumors of a 13th gender going around, a gender that could disrupt other people's reproductive DNA without warning. The thought that the donor and/or Duane could have been disrupted was chilling. Our next child could end up looking very different from us. But then again, everyone is a little different these days. ------ Author's Note: The goal is to do 13 of these, one told from the perspective of each of the 13 genders. Please leave a quick review and let me know if you liked this, or if not let me know what it needs. Thanks.