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Message-ID: <50564asstr$1109319001@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Carlos Malenkov <cmalenkov@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Love and Marriage  (MF MM bi 1st cons wl anal ScFi)
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Date: Fri, 25 Feb 2005 03:10:01 -0500
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LOVE AND MARRIAGE
by Carlos Malenkov
Word Count: 1562
Copyright (c) 2005 by Carlos Malenkov
Posting and archiving rights granted to ASSM. All other rights reserved.



I've always loved Keirin. We've been inseparable for as long as we've
known each other. She won my heart in the instant that I first saw
those flashing eyes and that warm smile. There she was, sitting on the
teeter-totter in the school playground. We were both in the third grade.

Sure, the other kids poked fun at us. Boys weren't supposed to like girls,
and most certainly not vice-versa. The grownups were relatively tolerant,
smugly certain that this was something both of us would outgrow. Just a
normal stage of development.

But we didn't outgrow it.

We had been best friends for years. Years of snickering and sly whispering
behind our backs. Years of petty harassment by teachers and Morality
Monitors. _Opposite-sex friendship in adolescence inevitably leads to
illicit sex, don't you know?_ And: _hey, lookit them dirty perverts!_

When we finally did become lovers, it was almost by accident. The
details of _hetero_ sex may be whispered in lavatories and are the
material of dirty jokes, but you certainly can't find anything about
it in books. Well, not in books sold over the counter, anyhow. But,
when the time comes, you somehow find a way.

She had come to me in tears. Her tight little circle of girlfriends --
her bosom buddies, her sources of emotional support -- had abruptly cut
her off. Rejected her. Shunned her. And, all because of me. Because of
our forbidden closeness.

I cradled her head against my chest and let her cry herself out. We were
hugging tightly. Unintentionally, my hand seemed to be creeping down
behind her back, comforting and caressing. Caressing her behind. Her
curvy, enticingly padded butt. _Forbidden woman-flesh!_

Now she was kissing me. At first gently, then, as if losing control of
herself, wildly and with complete abandon. She was sobbing my name. And
her hand . . . her hand was on my . . . my erection. She was saying
something. She wanted something. She wanted _me_. She wanted me _inside
her_.

It was oh, so sweet. She had guided me into her (somehow she _knew how_),
and our gentle rocking as we lay side by side both comforted and excited
us. We were doing something terribly forbidden, and yet it felt _so
right_. It was a profound expression of our love. And, we could get in
terribly serious trouble if we were caught.



"Oh, my gosh! You could have gotten her _pregnant_! Not to mention . . . "

Gayla is my favorite mom. She's the one I always go to when I have
a problem or something to confide. Even if she does get a bit overly
emotional at times.

"As you well know, Thomas, carnal relations between the two sexes are
strictly forbidden in the Holy Book. Except for authorized reproduction,
of course, and nowadays artificial insemination has made even that
superfluous. I'm not the squeamish sort, but just the thought of having
a male's _thing_ inserted into -- ugh!"

"But, mother Gayla, I love --"

"Don't talk to me about love, foolish child! Love is when you pledge a
lifelong commitment to a person, as Cornelia and I have done. Love is
when you make sacrifices to raise a child, and believe me, it hasn't been
easy. Love is the traditional bond between two people of the same same
sex, and that's been true throughout all of recorded human history. As
you well know.

I'm as open minded as anybody. It doesn't particularly bother me that you
turned out to be hetero. But, look, you've got to take precautions. Not
just to avoid getting her with child, but to hide from prying eyes."

"Mom, why do we have to hide our love? Heterosex was decriminalized ages
ago in the Great Legal Reform. We're all supposed to be _enlightened_ now.
And -- "

"And? And what about your reputation? What about being able to find a
decent job after you graduate? Do you really think any respectable firm
would hire a _hetero_?"

It made sense, what she said. Too much sense. I let her talk me into a
long vacation trip back east, a trip to a luxury resort, and with all
expenses paid. A trip that would give me time to cool down and think
things over. A trip that would . . . put distance between me and Keirin.

Oh, yes, we wrote to each other. But, after a while, the letters got
more and more infrequent. I was just enjoying myself too much. And
maybe absence doesn't necessarily make the heart grow fonder. And then
I met Brent.

We hit it off right away. He had a lively intelligence and the kind of
sparkling good humor that can't help but make you enjoy his company. It
didn't hurt that his classically sculpted masculine physique -- and
especially his tight, muscular butt -- made the blood sing in my ears
(and made my member engorge).

At our second meeting, the Hug of Greeting turned into something more
intimate as his hand strayed down below . . . and felt my tumescence. We
raced one another down the stairway into the sleeping quarters and tore
off our clothing.

Naked, he crouched before me in the prescribed Ceremony of Yielding,
then touched his forehead to the ground. I laid my hand on his exposed
posterior in sign of Total Acceptance and positioned myself on my knees
close behind him. Then came that magic moment when he opened his hind
cheeks to me. I entered into him and we were one flesh.

It was terrifyingly intense, but somehow I knew just at the moment that I
exploded deep within the dark mystery of his fundament that . . . whatever
else this was, it wasn't love. No.

And when it came time to open my own self to him -- to let him penetrate
_me_ -- in the second act of the Sacred Union, I just couldn't do it. I
ran from his clutching arms, from his despairing cries, from his yearning
and his neediness. I ran into the cold night to escape him.

Back. I had to get back.

Thoughts of lost and forsaken love filled my head. I hired a carriage to
rush me to the railway terminal and booked the next available passage
home. Six long hours I waited on a hard wooden bench in the unheated
station, praying that Brent wouldn't track me down and file a claim
of Breach of Promise. The ritual Carnal Act can, in some localities,
be considered a binding proposal of marriage, and the courts could well
rule against me.

I fell asleep to the comforting clickety-clack of the wheels on the
tracks as we sped across the countryside. My dreams were of Keirin.



"Let's consecrate our love. Let's get married."

"But, Keirin, you know there's a constitutional amendment banning hetero
marriage."

"I love you, Tom, and love will find a way."

Keirin was right. Love did find a way.



Keirin and I have been happily married for ten years now. We have three
beautiful children. The two girls favor her, I'm told, while little Tommie
is the spitting image of me when I was his age.

Yes, we're a respectable and respected married couple. As soon as we
realized we couldn't bear to live without each other, we began considering
our options.

Keirin decided to undergo the gender-change operation. This type of
chirurgery has come quite a long way since it was first attempted 140
years ago. Nowadays the prognosis for success is nearly 100% and the
end result is indistinguishable from having been born in the other sex.

The chirurgeons completely reshaped Keirin's contours into something very
much like the masculine ideal. They amputated the breasts and suctioned
out the fatty deposits from the hips and buttocks. The ovaries were
temporarily removed and, _in vitro_, subjected to the Ianuschi-Milevich
Process of alchemical and radio-wave alteration of their elemental
substance, until they metamorphosed into fully functional testicles,
whereupon they were implanted into a cunningly constructed skin-graft
scrotal sac and attached below Keirin's pubic bone. Hormonal quickening
altered the clitoral bud into the full-length (9 inches!) and fully
erectile organ we males are so familiar with. Keirin had become a man.


     I sometimes wake in the gray early morning hours and wonder . . .
     what if she had taken me up on my offer to have the operation
     _myself_. Here I'd lie, lacking phallus and testes, with that gaping
     female cavity between my legs, making love to Keirin in the selfsame
     manner as my two moms . . .

     Or, in some even _stranger_ alternate reality, where marriage across
     the great divide of the sexes is sanctioned, if we had cloven to
     one another as _man and wife_ . . .


How wondrous was our first Sharing of the Flesh after Keirin's
transformation! I inserted myself into _his_ rectal cavity, and it was as
intensely sensual as it had been in that best-forgotten brief encounter
with Brent. And afterward, when it came time for Keirin to be the active
partner, to penetrate _me_, to thrust his achingly erect _penis_ into
the throbbing hole in my backside, I lovingly accepted him into me,
and he filled me up completely with his hard flesh, and I was filled
with love and rejoicing. We were well and truly wed.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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