Feelings creep out after Dark (Futa/Male, Futa/Futa, specific tags per chapter)

Story by PennyPenns

Big-time lurker SecondNomad saying hello to you all here! And I've finally decided to hop out of my little hermit house and contribute something to this site.

I think that back in the year '09 or something I said I would join in on a Halloween-themed writing competition here, but I kind of let that fell apart. I've been writing and publishing a lot of stories and one-shots since, but never anything erotic before, because I could never think of a proper setting or storyline.

But then a day or two ago it hit me just like BAYUM, GET SOME SON! and I started writing the story straight away. I'm really happy with the ideas I have so far and hope to bring this story to you in a delightful fashion.

So without further ado...

:160: OK GO!

Almost on cue with the the sun gleaming through the closed curtains and the bird's first chirping of the day, the loud buzzing of an alarm clock broke the peace that had been present in the bedroom for most of the past night.

At first, Keith made an attempt to ignore the sound, even holding the edges of his pillow to his ears to completely block out the the noise. Sadly however, he could still hear it very well. Perhaps the buzzing was a bit more distant now, but not distant enough to completely ignore.

With a weak sigh, Keith released his grip on the pillow and slammed his hand right on top of the alarm clock. Immediately, the buzzing stopped and the room was once again at ease. But Keith really wasn't. It was a personal peeve of his: if something wakes him up in the morning there is no way for him to go back to the land of dreams.

“Eleven in the morning, Saturday the 22nd of May,” Keith said to himself, feeling the thick morning saliva clogging up his throat, “No human should need to get up this early on a weekend.”

Still a bit sleepy and quite annoyed, Keith quickly threw the blanket off of himself and hopped out of bed. Right away he noticed quite a bit of strain coming from his back. Normally, Keith would take the time to stretch for a bit, but on Saturday? He just really didn't feel like doing anything that required too much effort, even if it would make him more comfortable.

Soon after getting bored of just standing next to his bed, Keith painstakingly walked over to his closet. On the door of the closet was a large mirror in which Keith was able to look at his boast-worthy stature...

...A lot of things could be considered a more accurate description than that.

Looking right back at Keith in the mirror was a 5”1, sixteen-year-old boy. Or at least, was it a boy? Keith himself knew the answer well enough, but anyone who would see him for the first time might assume that he was simply an underdeveloped girl.

Even now, with only Keith's boxer shorts covering his nudity, there were various arguments you could make about his possible femininity. First and foremost was the fact that he had an incredibly smooth skin. There was not a single hair to be found anywhere on his body except on his head and on a bright day, you could practically see the light reflecting off his skin. It was, however, very obvious that Keith wasn't outside a lot on bright days, as there wasn't a single shade of tan to be found anywhere on his body.

Secondly, and most important to Keith's own low self-esteem, was the actual shape of his body. Instead of the trophy-esque shape that the more physically active boys of his age would begin to develop, Keith was sporting a well-defined hourglass shape. Not only did this mean that he had a rather thin waist compared to his chest, but it also meant that his hips extended far beyond his waist. This fact was made even more clear by the rather exaggerated walk, or perhaps even strut, that Keith had developed over the years.

Last of all was Keith's head. His face was very smooth, defined by large eyes and a mouth that was set in a grin-like position whenever Keith was not particularly mad or upset. To top that off was his considerable head of hair, which Keith had to admit he was kind of proud of. His jet-black hair reached almost halfway to his butt and kept a beautiful, curly flow all throughout. Even though it was a bitch to maintain, Keith appreciated having something that he could he be so proud of flowing from the top of his head. He knew plenty of people who would be very glad to trade the roots of their hair with his … those people were mostly girls.

Keith noticed that his hair was divided in string like sections that morning, which he knew meant a single thing: time for a shower. Swiftly, he pulled his bathrobe from a hook right next to his mirror and turned to the exit of his room.

Now standing with his side to the mirror, Keith's attention was immediately drawn to the most protruding section of his body, his pelvis. There were two distinctive reasons for this; Both his butt, which Keith considered far too bub

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