It was a golden-skinned woman with hair the color of auburn leaves. She leaned against a massive oak tree, her fingers plunging over and over into her...pussy. She kept laughing and cooing her delight.“Ooh, yes, yes, yes,” she moaned. “Ooh, I'm going to cum so hard.”My dick throbbed and twitched. She didn't have a dick at all. She wasn't even human, let alone one of the Summer futas. She was a fey. My futa-cock throbbed. My pussy grew so wet as I watched her plunge her fingers into her pussy, her. I remember her laughing and saying, "Tim, what's wrong with you tonight? You feel so tiny inside of me!" This comment had been troubling for two reasons: she had never before complained about my size and, more importantly, my name is "Don" not "Tim"! Nevertheless, I just assumed she was drunk and didn't know what she was saying. Still, I had hoped when I awoke the next morning that our love life was about to be rehabilitated, but in the morning light, fully sober, Virginia had no interest in. As with my other objections, Cheryljust ignored my protests about not liking the glitter design or the factthat the rear pockets were fake and more for appearance than function.She hurried me back to try on the camel dress pants. I could tell theyfit as I pulled up them up and they weren't as tight as the jeans. Buthaving the zipper on the side made it real awkward and the flat frontdesign without a fly made the absence of any male bulge very obvious. Itried to tell her I didn't like these, so. After I got home from work, John and I had dinner together. All through the evening, we kept catching each other looking and smiling as if we each had a secret we were bursting to reveal. It wasn’t until a little after 11:00, and we were both in bed when John called. I quickly snatched up my phone and answered, “Hey, John.”‘Hey yourself, Mom. How are you feeling tonight?”“Much better, thanks to you.” Now that we were on the phone, I felt free to talk about last night. “How are you feeling.