A Cock and Ball Story
Title: A Cock and Ball Story
Author: kmmerc
Pairing: Finch/Reese
Rating: R
Chapter One-Four Complete
“Wait, Harold, wait!” gasped John, grabbing Finch’s hands which were at his belt.
The kiss, unexpected but not unwelcome, had taken John by surprise, as did Finch’s hands which stroked and tugged at his clothing as they wrestled on the Library’s ancient leather couch.
Lips swollen and glasses crooked, Finch cringed. “John, I…I’m so sorry! I don’t know what came over me,” he stammered apologetically, face flushing red.
“No, Jesus, Harold, there’s something you don’t know about me,” groaned John, pulling back until he was sitting across from his disheveled partner.
“But I know everything about you,” sighed Finch, moving closer.
“Harold, I’m not the man you think I am.”
“John, we’ve all made mistakes…”
“No - I mean it,” barked John, pulling down his pants and revealing a vulva instead of the cock and balls Finch had, quite reasonably, expected.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
“My name was Jeanne,” he explained. “I was sixteen when my parents died, seventeen when I finished high school and joined the army. I met Jessica there - she was one of my bunkmates in basic training. I was tall and skinny for a girl. Not tits to speak of but boys seemed to like me anyway. I preferred girls because they took them time to get me warmed up. Boys, well, men just wanted to stick it to me - everything down there is functional, so to speak.”
“But how?” gasped Finch, looking at John’s Adam’s apple and broad shoulders.
“After training I was sent overseas - I was a driver and not supposed to be on the front lines but over there it was a giant cluster fuck and women like me were in the thick of things. I was the best shot of any of that year’s recruits, male or female. It wasn’t long before my talents were noticed and put to use. It was a road side bomb that did it. I wasn’t hurt except for being thrown hard against the steering wheel. My abdomen swelled up and they opened me up. I had just one ovary and it had cysts which had popped in the impact. If they hadn’t taken it out I’d have bled to death.” He took Harold’s hand and pressed it softly against a silvery old scar bisecting his lower belly.
“Oh, John,” sighed Finch before pressing a kiss against it.
“I was eighteen and thought I was too tall already, but in the next year I shot up another three inches. My voice dropped and my shoulders got wider - got hairier in new places. My clit, which was already pretty large, got even bigger, to the point that I was afraid to let anyone see me down there. When I went for a follow up visit with the doctors, they noticed my five o’clock shadow and wanted to open me up again but I’d had enough. I got scanned and they found rudimentary testes and prostate gland - they’d missed them before or maybe they’d grown. They wanted to yank them out and be done with it but I wouldn’t let them. Fact is, I liked who I’d become.”
“I like you, too,” said Finch, kissing John again.
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“Would you come in the back with me?” asked Finch, his voice trembling. “The bed is more comfortable than the couch and the light is better, if you’ll let me look at you.”
John kicked off his shoes and slid down his pants. By the time he reached the Library’s bedroom he was nude. He faced the natural light from the mostly boarded window, his legs spread and knees up, the classic position for a gynecological exam.
“Sit up, John,” commanded Finch as he unbuttoned his cuffs and carefully took off his bespoke shirt. He draped it carefully on the dresser and climbed into bed, his trousers still on.
“I thought you wanted to see…”
“I want to see all of you,” Finch whispered, his hands roaming freely across John’s impressive shoulders and muscular arms. “You really are quite an impressive man, Mr. Reese.”
John exhaled and relaxed as Finch began kissing and nipping at his neck and ears. He lifted up his arms, stifling a giggle as his underarm hairs were brushed by Finch’s blunt fingernails.
“Finch, take your pants off, please?” John asked, feeling the fabric covered cock against his back.
“Not right now, John. This is about you,” replied Finch, finding and palming John’s stiffening nipples. John leaned back into Harold’s embrace, sighing as attentive fingers roamed and teased him.
“John?” asked Finch. “Can I watch you? Can I watch you touch yourself?”
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Sounds rumbled through John’s deep chest, tickling Finch, as the former op slid his left hand between his legs. Finch, peering over his shoulder, almost chanted his encouraging comments, urging John softly to continue.
John’s technique wasn’t elaborate, merely planting a finger on either side of his clitoris and pressing down and then around, tiny circles that mimicked the ones he was unconsciously making with his hips.
His knees popped up and he leaned back hard against Finch. He came, not making a sound except for the sharp exhale of breathe that Finch hadn’t even noticed John was holding.
“Oh, my,” breathed Finch, hugging John and kissing his sweat-dampened hair.
Lazily, John turned onto his side, grinning at Finch.
“There’s more if you want. I mean, I can come again, right now if you want.”
“You’re multi-orgasmic?” squeaked Finch, suddenly imagining where this could take them.
“Want to find out for yourself?” laughed John, moving and parting his legs. Without hesitation, Finch slid down, kissing warm flesh and fuzz along the way. John’s clitoris stood proudly from his puffy lips, its hood pulled back, an inch or so longer and thicker than his thumb.
Never one for the obvious, Finch stretched John’s leg to kiss the inside of his knee, earning a moan of appreciation that only deepened as Finch’s tongue stroked the crease where thigh and pelvis meet. His fingers were busy tugging pink/coral folds of flesh before a gentle forefinger dipped inside.
Hot honey, thought Finch, licking his finger and pressing it back inside as he took John’s small tool into his mouth. He explored John’s slick walls, finding the bump that was John’s vestigial prostate, rubbing it gently as he sucked. He was almost thrown off as orgasm roared through John’s body again.
“Lie down now, Harold, please?” begged John. Finch obliged and John made quick work of pulling off trousers and boxer shorts. He hummed happily as he stroked Finch’s erection, rubbing the slick fluid from the tip down the shaft before straddling the flushed man.
“May I?” John asked, brushing his sex against Finch’s, teasingly. Finch nodded and John bit his lip, slowly backing up and onto his partner’s hard eight inch cock.
John leaned down, his chest and arm muscles bunching and contracting as he kissed Finch and began rocking back and forth, his small shaft brushing and rubbing against Harold’s silver-brown patch of pubic hair. He pressed a quick kiss against one of Finch’s nipples before rearing up and riding the smaller man in earnest. Finch tried to hold back but came to the point of no return as he stroked the miniature cock while John quaked around him, coming for the third time.
Exhausted, they fell into each other’s arms, John pulling the comforter over both their shoulders.
“You’re one in a million, John,” Harold sighed, falling asleep in his lover’s arms.
Author: kmmerc
Pairing: Finch/Reese
Rating: R
Chapter One-Four Complete
“Wait, Harold, wait!” gasped John, grabbing Finch’s hands which were at his belt.
The kiss, unexpected but not unwelcome, had taken John by surprise, as did Finch’s hands which stroked and tugged at his clothing as they wrestled on the Library’s ancient leather couch.
Lips swollen and glasses crooked, Finch cringed. “John, I…I’m so sorry! I don’t know what came over me,” he stammered apologetically, face flushing red.
“No, Jesus, Harold, there’s something you don’t know about me,” groaned John, pulling back until he was sitting across from his disheveled partner.
“But I know everything about you,” sighed Finch, moving closer.
“Harold, I’m not the man you think I am.”
“John, we’ve all made mistakes…”
“No - I mean it,” barked John, pulling down his pants and revealing a vulva instead of the cock and balls Finch had, quite reasonably, expected.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
“My name was Jeanne,” he explained. “I was sixteen when my parents died, seventeen when I finished high school and joined the army. I met Jessica there - she was one of my bunkmates in basic training. I was tall and skinny for a girl. Not tits to speak of but boys seemed to like me anyway. I preferred girls because they took them time to get me warmed up. Boys, well, men just wanted to stick it to me - everything down there is functional, so to speak.”
“But how?” gasped Finch, looking at John’s Adam’s apple and broad shoulders.
“After training I was sent overseas - I was a driver and not supposed to be on the front lines but over there it was a giant cluster fuck and women like me were in the thick of things. I was the best shot of any of that year’s recruits, male or female. It wasn’t long before my talents were noticed and put to use. It was a road side bomb that did it. I wasn’t hurt except for being thrown hard against the steering wheel. My abdomen swelled up and they opened me up. I had just one ovary and it had cysts which had popped in the impact. If they hadn’t taken it out I’d have bled to death.” He took Harold’s hand and pressed it softly against a silvery old scar bisecting his lower belly.
“Oh, John,” sighed Finch before pressing a kiss against it.
“I was eighteen and thought I was too tall already, but in the next year I shot up another three inches. My voice dropped and my shoulders got wider - got hairier in new places. My clit, which was already pretty large, got even bigger, to the point that I was afraid to let anyone see me down there. When I went for a follow up visit with the doctors, they noticed my five o’clock shadow and wanted to open me up again but I’d had enough. I got scanned and they found rudimentary testes and prostate gland - they’d missed them before or maybe they’d grown. They wanted to yank them out and be done with it but I wouldn’t let them. Fact is, I liked who I’d become.”
“I like you, too,” said Finch, kissing John again.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
“Would you come in the back with me?” asked Finch, his voice trembling. “The bed is more comfortable than the couch and the light is better, if you’ll let me look at you.”
John kicked off his shoes and slid down his pants. By the time he reached the Library’s bedroom he was nude. He faced the natural light from the mostly boarded window, his legs spread and knees up, the classic position for a gynecological exam.
“Sit up, John,” commanded Finch as he unbuttoned his cuffs and carefully took off his bespoke shirt. He draped it carefully on the dresser and climbed into bed, his trousers still on.
“I thought you wanted to see…”
“I want to see all of you,” Finch whispered, his hands roaming freely across John’s impressive shoulders and muscular arms. “You really are quite an impressive man, Mr. Reese.”
John exhaled and relaxed as Finch began kissing and nipping at his neck and ears. He lifted up his arms, stifling a giggle as his underarm hairs were brushed by Finch’s blunt fingernails.
“Finch, take your pants off, please?” John asked, feeling the fabric covered cock against his back.
“Not right now, John. This is about you,” replied Finch, finding and palming John’s stiffening nipples. John leaned back into Harold’s embrace, sighing as attentive fingers roamed and teased him.
“John?” asked Finch. “Can I watch you? Can I watch you touch yourself?”
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Sounds rumbled through John’s deep chest, tickling Finch, as the former op slid his left hand between his legs. Finch, peering over his shoulder, almost chanted his encouraging comments, urging John softly to continue.
John’s technique wasn’t elaborate, merely planting a finger on either side of his clitoris and pressing down and then around, tiny circles that mimicked the ones he was unconsciously making with his hips.
His knees popped up and he leaned back hard against Finch. He came, not making a sound except for the sharp exhale of breathe that Finch hadn’t even noticed John was holding.
“Oh, my,” breathed Finch, hugging John and kissing his sweat-dampened hair.
Lazily, John turned onto his side, grinning at Finch.
“There’s more if you want. I mean, I can come again, right now if you want.”
“You’re multi-orgasmic?” squeaked Finch, suddenly imagining where this could take them.
“Want to find out for yourself?” laughed John, moving and parting his legs. Without hesitation, Finch slid down, kissing warm flesh and fuzz along the way. John’s clitoris stood proudly from his puffy lips, its hood pulled back, an inch or so longer and thicker than his thumb.
Never one for the obvious, Finch stretched John’s leg to kiss the inside of his knee, earning a moan of appreciation that only deepened as Finch’s tongue stroked the crease where thigh and pelvis meet. His fingers were busy tugging pink/coral folds of flesh before a gentle forefinger dipped inside.
Hot honey, thought Finch, licking his finger and pressing it back inside as he took John’s small tool into his mouth. He explored John’s slick walls, finding the bump that was John’s vestigial prostate, rubbing it gently as he sucked. He was almost thrown off as orgasm roared through John’s body again.
“Lie down now, Harold, please?” begged John. Finch obliged and John made quick work of pulling off trousers and boxer shorts. He hummed happily as he stroked Finch’s erection, rubbing the slick fluid from the tip down the shaft before straddling the flushed man.
“May I?” John asked, brushing his sex against Finch’s, teasingly. Finch nodded and John bit his lip, slowly backing up and onto his partner’s hard eight inch cock.
John leaned down, his chest and arm muscles bunching and contracting as he kissed Finch and began rocking back and forth, his small shaft brushing and rubbing against Harold’s silver-brown patch of pubic hair. He pressed a quick kiss against one of Finch’s nipples before rearing up and riding the smaller man in earnest. Finch tried to hold back but came to the point of no return as he stroked the miniature cock while John quaked around him, coming for the third time.
Exhausted, they fell into each other’s arms, John pulling the comforter over both their shoulders.
“You’re one in a million, John,” Harold sighed, falling asleep in his lover’s arms.