Is he a He or a She

She stared at me, I guessed in pain, her labia rasped on my todger, suddenly still, silent, gasping for breath, her eyes widening, and then her gap toothed mouth wide open - was that a resemblance of a smile. Never, I thought, is this where my wife gets her appetite for cock from? I banged her hard and got into a simple rhythm and in complete contrast she was now cooing in a guttural tone and starting to grasp my huge biceps and pull up against me. Her breath was foul, garlic and Guiness and maybe unclean but I wasn't aiming to kiss her. I shagged her arrogantly and fast and on pulling out, the ropes of my jism and her cunt discharge trickled over the couch, shit - that could be a problem but I wanted out.

Checking Bethany who had nearly finished the measured contents of the bottle, I left her to be nappy changed, cleaned myself up and set off for Martin's, picking up Ji Su patiently sat in the surgery waiting room, after an annual MOT - great, she's so healthy. I didn't tell her about her mother. That could wait, we were on a mission.

Martin greeted us and immediately thrust a drink in our hands, introducing us to Arthur his 77 year old father, stopping with them during a business trip. We joked that it must be elderly rellies visiting day, telling them about our temporary lodger. Cathy came down stairs, having finished putting one or two 'ladies things' in the bathroom to be used for the video shoot. Art and Ji Su hit it off instantly, I could see she was totally in awe of the handsome stranger. He was an eccentric old charmer, full of stories - he'd been a farmer in South Africa and been robbed and beaten, his animals destroyed, the house burned down, his wife Marj raped and murdered by the Jacob Zuma bunch of out of control hooligans.

Ji Su's glass was continually topped up while Martin explained his dad would like to be in on the project today as he had a speciality, which might be of interest to us. Art, as he preferred to be called, had always been an acknowledged, bovine breeding specialist, now travelled Europe advising on breeds and methods. His tales about catching bull's - foot long - cocks in a film 'johnny' as he called it, to get them to ejaculate into, while mounted on a fake cow for insemination were hilarious. Ji Su caused Art to go into fits of laughter, saying she would like to watch and be one of the cows. Martin showed him part of her portfolio, he was impressed.

She indicated she was fully primed and needy, so we all went up to the bathroom which was tastefully decorated in what Cathy told us is Farrow and Ball Inchyra Blue, a sort of dark blue/grey, where Martin had previously set up a tripod, with a camera mounted on it. Two studio lights were positioned, needing final adjustment and needed their long cable plugs inserted to a socket on the landing when ready. My wife, always the professional, wore a simple pale green top which hung straight from shoulders, armpits and her nipples, no bra as usual, but to make things easier for Martin and herself with prior chats, she wore a brand new, loose, startlingly white flared mini skirt. Her legs were bare.

The room had space enough for us all to stand and watch. Ji Su was told to rehearse, which needed nothing apart from stepping to the toilet bowl and turning, hoisting her skirt and crouching. Our host busied himself adjusting light and taking great care with the fixed camera. He had another camera slung round his neck.

"I hope this is one take Martin, once I start, I'll never be able to stop," she snickered.

"Love the way we can see the dark circles of her teats through her blouse Harry," Arthur murmured.

"Mine are so pale," chuckled Cathy.

"Those aren't nipples darling," Martin chuckled. "They're my lovely saucers, I showed Dad those tit shots of you last night."

Cathy snuggled into her father-in-law's side and he put his arm round her shoulders. He was tall, handsome, with a rugged face, Roman nose and a mop of steely white hair. His muscular wiry arms were tanned and I guess the rest of him was, because it was him that introduced Martin and Cathy to nudism.

"You ready for your speciality Art?" Cathy peered up at him.

"Too true blue," he replied in a mock Australian accent.

"Well that won't be on the official video, but we'll have it," said Martin thanking me for plugging in the light cables, flooding the room which had the blinds down at the window. "Now I'm ready Ji Su if you are."

We all hushed, like in a cinema.

"There's no technical need for quiet folks, but too much chat in what's supposed to be a private moment won't quite fit eh?" he murmured, nodding at Ji Su and clicking his two cameras on.

The star of the show walked into his shot, her four inch stilettos clicking louder on the marble floor. She lifted the lid, peered inside, smiled - this was all part of German printed directions - swivelled and hefted up her skirt. She part lowered her white panties, which were brand new and I hadn't seen before.

They were extremely pretty. Still practical but effective. There was a delicate floral motif scattered around the whole garment. Down the front there was a wide panel with a tiny lace fringed edge. The same edging but a little wider was round the leg holes. It wasn't a thong. Her pubic mound was like a large wide cushion tucked away, such was it's bulk. She examined the inside, pulled a slight frowning expression then lowered them to her ankles, squatting but not sitting on the rim. That must have been part of the directions too as she always sits. It would take some strength too as I know, but she was no weight.

"Shit! That's some fucking bush she's cultivating," snickered Art.

Martin was a hive of activity with a hand held camera, squatting, kneeling and lying down, his auto camera capturing multiple shots, also checking the monitor aside on the floor from which we could all view showing the live action. There was another monitor alongside it, showing the rear close up view of her arse hole and cunt. It was a staggering set up - I'd seen all of my wife's stuff before, but the others hadn't and from them came all sorts of little gasps and squeaks of surprise and delight.

Because of Frau Fran's request, her tampon string had been buried in her hairy mott and she fumbled inside for it. Unearthing it and pulling it slowly and deliberately, Ji Su's pubic forest cascaded round her deft, black painted fingers, contrasting nicely with the white cotton until she pulled about two inches out. About 6 inches out, it was stained a muddy red colour.

"Perfect," sighed Martin. Art murmured approval.

What I hadn't realised, the camera was set to take both her lower action area well as her face from the front, all clear on the monitor. Martin whisperer he would edit a lot of the total to a split screen view. She'd been directed not to pose, indicating her awareness of the cameras. Yet another camera was located at the back of the bowl virtually on the rim, held with gaffer tape aiming up, capturing glorious close ups of just her arse hole and cunt.

The soiled cotton bud appeared and Art groaned, licking his lips with pleasure, disturbing a riveted to the monitors Cathy, to adjust the hang of his cock. She glanced down and I thought she was going to assist him but didn't. The dark brown/red bulb swung low until Ji Su pulled it clear, examining it closely, tossed her head as if to say 'that's OK' then pulled some toilet sheets off the roll and deposited it, putting it on the floor. Art murmured again and Cathy beamed up at him. Ji Su urinated powerfully, pulsing her genital muscles with the effort, her sphincter responding, the noise echoing gloriously in the tiles room, and looking like that it would try and match the ferocious flow nearby. It ceased, luckily - and it was luck - as she'd often complained because of the weighty meat of her labia, the flow shot out sideways and soaked her cheeks. My wife's pussy dribbled a few dark blood ropes of her menstrual discharge until satisfied all was done, she dabbed it, several times, nearly exhausting the new roll Cathy had placed there and having unwrapped a new tampon she inserted it, giving an exaggerated push in, then inspecting and wiping her fingers again. Suitable expressions made it complete.

She stood and after peering at her panty gusset again with the same expression she'd used when inspecting her pussy plug, she wriggled them up, an action I love to see. Making sure her black forest was all tucked in, which frankly was impossible with her growth, she patted the knickers all round, picking out the back of it where it had ridden too high up her crack and then smoothed down her skirt. Martin was laid flat out on the floor videoing up her crotch, with two cameras, capturing every single detail. Ji Su glanced round, poker faced as only Orientals can master and then made to walk away.

"That's it folks, thanks darling," applauded Martin, switching the camera off. We all joined him. "Now dad, your turn, this is not going on the main stuff for German consumption, but let's see what you do and if you want or need to, you can play act."

"You're going to video this son? Never had the chance when you mother was alive and apart from your sister Gwen, they're the only two and Gwen never knew what I did and I didn't have a camera."

"Yes of course he is Art. If it's related to what we've seen, it'll be great. Ah good you're back Ji Su, Art's going to do a little act for us. Just let me tidy these away..."

"No leave all that Cathy," Art interjected. "I'll do it that later." He stopped her picking up some loose tissues and a crumpled one.

Cathy gave a resigned shrug, confirmed we should all stay in the bathroom and stepped back as my wife snuggled into me, grinning cheekily.

"Did I do OK darling?" she murmured.

"You bet swee..."

"Ahem," exclaimed Arthur. "The grand finale...da dummmm."

He picked up an innocent looking white plastic bottle off a shelf, it looked like the sort of wide rimmed, sealed kitchen container everyone has. He theatrically flipped the top off and passed it round suggesting we smell the contents. Martin sniffed and pulled a face, as did Ji Su, then Cathy who, straight faced, passed it to me after raising and lowering it quickly to her face. Whatever liquid it was, it was pale acid yellow and smelt familiar, but I couldn't pin it down - agricultural, metallic, maybe.

Arthur took it back and placed it back on the shelf with a flourish. He had stooped in the meantime and collected the tissues from the floor, some mere scraps torn as the individual sheets were removed. Cleverly he'd secreted a slightly larger bundle in the palm of his hand and started to unravel it.

"Just because we've been waiting up here all this time and I was getting peckish, I thought I'd try a little snack..."

With that he dangled Ji Su's very soiled tampon over his face, cocked back his head, opened his mouth and lowered the cotton lump into it. Cathy gasped, her hands at her mouth in astonishment, Martin said "Gross Dad", Ji Su said "Nnoooo!!" and I laughed out loud.

Art made sucking and chewing movements and finally removed the grubby object and said, grasping the bottle, "A litle overdone. Just a little suopçon of Cathy water to wash it down."

He glugged back a lot of what I realised was piss, but where he hadn't eaten the tampon, he swallowed the urine.

He took both applause and mixed reactions, they were mostly from Martin, but it was a good show in my opinion, it takes all sorts. We drifted down to the lounge, while Martin sorted his gear and Cathy poured drinks.

"He'll forward you the finished work in due course," she told us.

"You were in on it weren't you?" giggled Ji Su. "That was your piss."

"Only to that point. I hadn't a clue what he was planning, honest."

We all believed her while Art confirmed such. "I had to do it, when I heard of today's planned scenario, it was a popular party trick of mine when I worked in the dark areas of Amsterdam, perfected it there. She took some persuasion heh heh!"

"Like what?" asked Ji Su, noticing Art's sly grin towards Cathy.

"He was a lovely fuck Ji Su, fancied him on the side for years since our naturism days started, I mean for an old man," she chuckled the words and parenthesised them with her fingers. "He's a lovely lovely man and hung, I mean..." she broke down in laughter, starting to indicate with her hands, as Art squirmed and I got that it was genuine embarrassment.

I felt my wife who was perched on my knee squirm. She'd have no qualms about shagging Arthur, adoring old men as much as youth.

Our host joined us and we congratulated him on the occasion and setup. Cathy told him about how she pissed for Art, which he'd guessed but didn't know. He dug out a beautifully bound album out of a row of 20 on a shelf and flashed some black and white and coloured photos of Art, his gorgeous deceased Sri Lankan wife, friends and family including Martin and Cathy posing naked presumably at various resorts judging by the bodies in the background. I had seen Martin's donger now and then during our little foursomes, but of course never Art's and yes he was as Cathy stated - hung. Ji Su squirmed again on seeing the pictures. Dinner was as usual sumptuous.

We took a taxi home.

*********

Bitch arrived at our place on time, on his gleaming, high chrome - arn't they all - massive Harley Davidson and I opened the door and went out to examine his pride and joy. I went indoors and gave him a cup of coffee and showed him through to the conservatory, where Ji Su, wearing nothing but a towelling robe, and he met formally. We had made up as story about her back pain and she would prefer his expertise at home.

I wondered of any of the neighbours looked a little askance when he climbed off the huge machine, which was cool ticking on the drive way. Bitch wore his favourite bandanna under his purple helmet, his hair snaked under it. His black jacket came off to reveal a light mauve ethnic design blouse, his wiry arms bare from the shoulders down, some pretty bangles on one wrist.

Below he wore a black, calf length deep purple skirt, his black/bronze legs bare down to incongruous DMs which he'd removed on arrival, padding around bare footed.

"Here we are Batch," I removed a sheet over a proper examination bed, which I kept for my exercises. He delved into a bag and produced phials of lotions, bottle of oils and some clean towels and rags, indicating that my wife should prepare on the bed. She climbed on knelt, removed the robe tossing it to me and lay belly down, but not before I noticed his shock at the sight of her forested groin.

"I'll leave you to it mate ...er sorry Rowen isn't it?" I corrected to the name he/she had adopted, beyond the gym name Batch. He nodded, grinned and thanked me.

I drifted through to the kitchen and took up my position behind the partly open serving hatch, now disused when the conservatory was once a dining room before one of the many conversions we'd had done. Ji Su and I had carefully disguised it in the conservatory behind a plant and various detritus, but made sure I would have a good aspect of the action. I also got a video camera primed.

Batch started on her back after a discussion where the pain was. I watched patiently, waiting for the moment when my wife would instigate some action. She got to the subject in the constant chat, round to his change of gender, and he happily explained things and where he was at in progress. She complimented Rowen on choice of clothing, with respect to the colours and tones. Rowen liked that and thanked her for her offer of assistance in choosing and even going shopping with Rowen and buying garments. They discussed the idea that he was, like now, a man massaging a woman and how was that experience succeeding. He said he hadn't had much call for it so far, but was hopeful of many more and of course it should be easier when his transition was complete and was enjoying the chance to practice freely today.

I had a view from Ji Su's feet end and could see her plan in opening her legs a little, while her kneaded, pulled and poked in the small of her back and around. Rowen didn't appear to take any interest and I could see a dark hairy vision which I always lust for. Her butt looked magnificent.

Ji Su asked, when Rowen was finished on her back, if she would help her sort out a slight pull on her right thigh at the front and he readily agreed.

Helping her to turn over and lay a towel over her genitals, he had to determine what her problem was and she explained vaguely, levered up on her elbows. I got a grin of pleasure and hopefulness from her. She lay back, letting her arm flop off the edge of the table sighing encouragement to Rowen.

"So you hope to be eligible for the surgery I suppose some time?" Ji Su ventured.

Rowen nodded and explained about regulations, restrictions and in his/her view petty officialdom.

"Golly! My husba...Harry, would rather loose an arm than his dick," she giggled.

Rowen chuckled without comment.

Suddenly his face registered shock and surprise and he jolted back from the side of the table.

"Please Mrs ...s'funny, I don't know your married name but please Ji Su, you mustn't do that."

"Sorry Rowen, but to me you're still Batch with what I can feel up your skirt and it's a pity if all that's going to go," she replied, levering up again and opening her legs wide.

Her mass of curly pubes, sprung up like a chimney cleaners brush. Rowen gulped and smoothed down the dense purple skirt and I did spot a jiggle of hand over the crotch area.

"Shall I get on with the thigh problem?" he squeaked in an earthy masculine tone.

She ignored him, noting he'd stepped forward again to resume professional duty. "Don't you miss ...sorry I'll rephrase that, do you miss playing with this sort of thing?" Ji Su queried, delving a finger into her hairy minge.

"Ji Su...! please don't, that's not fair...and th ...eek! And that," Rowen squeaked, as my wife again stuck her hand up his skirt.

He didn't step back and I guessed, knowing her, she'd have a sure grasp of Rowen's balls - could be painful.

"C'mon, could be a last chance. I think you do Rowen. It'll be fun being shagged by a woman, near as dammit - heh heh. If you undo your hair, leave your top on, I can let my imagination run. Look you're making me run," Ji Su chortled, showing her sloppy finger.

*************

"We safe here Clem?"

"As much as we'll ever be Dad," Clem answered puffing his fat stumpy body at the top of the bus stairs. "Oh yes," he snickered at the sight of a wriggling black arse on Dad's knee as a tiny pair of pink lacy panties were ripped away leaving Mindy clad only in a tight white tee-shirt and a pair of pink and grey ankle socks. A brisk hard slap reverberated round the upper deck as Dad beat Mindy's desperate attempts to be free.

"Here, give her to me," said Clem, having unbuttoned his jeans, dropped and kicked away his pants, and while could hardly see it because of his hairy spotty paunch, his puny cock was stiff and horizontal. He grasped Mindy's skinny frame and held her firm by her hips, her legs round him, leering down at her cute black bum and her sphincter winking at him as she frantically tensed her genital muscles fearing the worst. The girl's head was low down very close to Dad's crotch as he fumbled with his trousers and pants, finally clearing his boot shod feet from them, the foul odour from his unleashed, half hard, geriatric tool invading Mindy's facial apertures.

Dad fumbled his cock up to Mindy, who was suspended in Clem's firm grip and shoved it up at her, pressing her curry black head down.

"Suck it you nigger bitch," he grunted, stinging her buttocks again, grinning at his son who was aiming and succeeding in penetrating a virgin cunt. The girl squealed like a stuck pig, Clem chortled at her bright red blood seeped round her black minge and dripped to the floor.