One final, involuntary twitch of John's penis sealed the deal in his mind. Caught in a haze of arousal, he climbed onto his bed and spread his legs as wide as they would go.
Bending over as far as he could manage, he craned his neck until his penis loomed just centimeters from his face. The engorged glans glistened in the light of the bedside lamp.
Grabbing the backs of his thighs with his hands, he attempted to pull himself into an even tighter arc. The tip of his penis pressed against his cheek, leaving a streak of pre-ejaculate on the side of his face. He readjusted his grip and made a second attempt. His eyes crossing as they fixated on the penis so close to his face. The second attempt was marginally more successful. This time, the penis landed near his urethra, glancing up towards his clitoris as he attempted to force his face down onto it. The electrifying sensation only strengthened John's resolve.
Third time's the charm though John as he aligned his penis once more with the opening on his face. This time, he managed to hold the tip in place by resting it at the entrance to his vagina.
Straining even harder, he attempted to push himself deeper. The salty taste of pre-ejaculate began to permeate his mouth as he managed to push the tip inside. He was surprised by the warmth of his insides, His penis, thicker than the baster he had used earlier, prodiuced a satisfying stretching sensation at his entrance.
John had reached the limits of his flexibility now. Try as he might, he could not go any deeper than he already had. Still, the sensation was pleasurable, even if he could not go any further. Rocking back-and-forth, John tried as best he could to give himself even more pleasure.
John was almost too lost in himself when a noise downstairs cut his session short. The distinctive clinking of keys in a lock signaled his mother's return from work.
There was a faint pop as John uncontorted himself. He hurried to get dressed before she came upstairs, vulva lips leaving a streak of fluids on the inside of his shirt as he pulled it over his head.
I'm hooome! came a call from downstairs. Oh! You haven't had your dinner yet? You must be starving.
Now clothed in a old T-shirt and sweatpants, John creeped down the stairs. He tried as best he could to hide his shame as he stepped down into the kitchen, vulva still flush with blood in the aftermath of his arousal.
John's mom acknowledge his presence as she reheated some leftovers. Oh honey, I know you must still be getting used to eating with your new mouth, but you really need to make sure you get enough nutrition.
Now there isn't much we can do about it at home with only me around, but I've already made arrangements with the school to make sure you're getting proper lunches.
She sat at the dining table and gestured to the seat across from her.
There on the table was a soft plastic bottle with an attachment that made John whince a little. Instead of the clinical turkey baster he had been provided at school, this bottle had a cap that could only be described as phallic. A light blue spout rose at least five inches from the neck of the bottle, and curved slightly along its length. It even had ridges, and a flared end, which came to a point at the tip where he could see a generously sized opening. The base of the spout had a small electrical switch on it.
The bottle itself was one he had seen before, it was emblazoned with the logo of a local football team. It was obvious the new cap was an aftermarket addition. John wondered what use such a component could possibly have to anyone but him.
The purpose of the bottle was crystal-clear to John however. This must have been the dinner his mother had left for him. He sat down at the dining table and eyed the bottle nervously.
bless us o lord, for this we... John's mom quickly rattled off a prayer before starting her meal, more of habit than conviction. amen.
With that, she began to dig into her leftovers. John watch longingly as she chewed her food with teeth he no longer possessed. His stomach growled.
John's mom looked up from her food and gestured with her fork. The aftercare manual said egg-white with guar gum is an acceptable meal substitute. I added soup stock for flavour. There's lube in the cupboard if you need it.
John reached tentatively for the bottle. A dollop of fluid beaded at the tip as he squeezed it. The tip was warm as he placed it against his lips, almost as warm as his own penis had been. Still a bit slick from earlier, his lips parted easily. Pushing the bottle further, John could feel the flared tip rubbing past the tighter opening to the more maleable tunnel within. One by one, each of the ribs too, made their way past the entrance.
Now lodged deep within his throat, the curved shaft helped to accomodate the natural curvature of his throat as it reached towards his cervix. Looking up with the bottle still lodged deep within his throat, John was relieved to see his mom seemed almost entirely uninterested in the display before her.
He squeezed. A glob of soup-flavoured fluid gushed from the tip of the bottle. It too was warmer than he had expected. The ridges on the bottle seemed to do more than just massage his throat, helping to prevent the liquid from seeping out as it was injected. Despite the abject oddity of the situation, the warm liquid brought him a sense of satisfation and fullness he had been lacking until that point. John kept squeezing the bottle until only a small quantity remained clinging to the inside. There was an audible schlorp noise as he withdrew the bottle from his vagina, contents seeping from the tip as they mixed with his natural lubricant.
