{"sf1_id":113712,"sf2_id":"3egDdoMm","title":"The Kiss","author":"Shutaro","words":1892,"posted_at":"2009-12-28T00:02:00.000Z","tags":["Hermaphrodite","Inflation","M/solo","Transformation","Vore (soft)"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/113712-the-kiss","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/3egDdoMm","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/c9/44/c944721e-c4b0-4cb1-8c50-5fc2c8b6255a","description":"","content":"The Kiss (Part 1 of whatever...)  \n  \n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; -by-  \n  \nShutaro Highwind  \n  \n  \nJonas Weepel squeezed hastily through the door to his modest apartment,  \n  \ncarefully locking it behind him. He a mousy looking fellow... Which made a  \n  \ncertian amount of sense, given that he was one. His diminutive size and slight  \n  \nbuild only served to accentuate his natural shyness. It wasn't that he was ugly,  \n  \nor even un-attractive; Indeed, to the contrary, he was quite handsome. However,  \n  \nhis large ears, and his equally large glasses, did well to hide that fact from  \n  \nthe general public and allowed him to blend in with the crowd. Crystal blue eyes  \n  \nsat behind the thick lenses, and equally thick, dark, frames, and an unruly tuft  \n  \nof light blonde headfur peeked out, just barely, from between his ears (which  \n  \nnicely accented his pale gray coloration). Jonas wasn't someone you noticed,  \n  \nrather someone you passed by on the street; Without a second thought.  \n  \n  \nHe was young, only twenty-four, and spent his days as a file clerk for the  \n  \ncity. A job nearly as ordinary as he. Jonas jumped, slightly, as the plastic\n\n\u0026nbsp; shopping bag he clutched close to his chest rustled a bit. He heaved a soft sigh  \n  \nof relief, as he carefully set the bag down on a chair and removed his jacket  \n  \nand scarf. He stretched, a bit, as he began to relax... Safe at last, away from  \n  \nthe terrible noise and scrutiny of the outside world. Free to be himself, even  \n  \nif it was only behind closed doors.  \n  \n  \nAnother Friday night alone...  \n  \n  \nAnother weekend alone...  \n  \n  \nBut he had become used to these lonely nights and weekends long ago. He wasn't  \n  \na victim of circumstance, and didn't make himself out as such. Jonas lived the  \n  \nway he did by choice, a choice he had made some time ago. It wasn't as if he had  \n  \na lack of things to do, either. Boredom and lonliness... No, solitude, did not  \n  \ngo hand in hand with him. He had his computer... His TV, stereo, video games...  \n  \nand his more erotic diversions. Vivid fantasies that came to life inside his  \n  \nhead, and existed nowhere else.  \n  \n  \nJonas washed, ate, and closed the blinds and shades as the last rays of the  \n  \nsetting sun faded into dusk, and that into night. He parked himself on the  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; couch, in front of the TV, and quickly lost himself he watched the flickering  \n  \nimages pass by...  \n  \n  \nIt was several hours later that he stirred from the couch, and retrieved the  \n  \nshopping bag he set down on the chair when he came home. He made his way back to  \n  \nthe bedroom, and carefully closed (and locked) the door behind himself. He  \n  \nupended the bag, emptying it's contents onto the bed, and spreading them out, as  \n  \nhe tossed the empty bag over his shoulder... Hastily discarding it upon the  \n  \nfloor, in his eagerness.  \n  \n  \nHis room was simple. A bed, a dresser, and a nightstand with a lamp a digital  \n  \nclock radio perpetually bathing the room in the soft green glow of numbers. It  \n  \nwas clean, save for the discarded shopping bag on the floor, as Jonas was one  \n  \nfor tidiness, and smelt faintly of stale, dusty, oxidized, latex and fresh,  \n  \nsoft, smooth vinyl. Four blank walls and a ceiling plastered with  \n  \nphotographs, pictures, and posters... These were his girls, and he would lay  \n  \nawake for hours staring up at them in silent admiration. These helped to  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; fuel his fantasies... Even though he knew he would never chance to meet, let  \n  \nalone become close to, one of these beautiful ladies, he could still dream...  \n  \n  \nCouldn't he?  \n  \n  \nHe switched on the light and surveyed the collection of new toys. The shiny  \n  \nplastic glittered in the soft, efficient, environmentally friendly, glow of the  \n  \nbedside lamp... There were several packages of balloons, of various sizes. A  \n  \nregular purchase, although he had to go a fair bit out of his way to get them.  \n  \nThey were large, larger than the kind you could find in just any supermarket or  \n  \ncorner drugstore... Small things didn't interest him. He filtered through the  \n  \nshiny, brightly colored, packets of latex and plastic, storing each away for a  \n  \nlater date; A later fantasy.  \n  \n  \nTonight...  \n  \n  \nTonight he had something more in mind. He soon found what he was looking for, in  \n  \na shrink-wrapped bundle of cardboard and vinyl. He eagerly, but carefully, tore  \n  \nit open; saving the packaging. He unrolled the smooth, fragrant, bundle onto his  \n  \nbed. Carefully unfolding arms, legs... A head... And ears. The outline of a  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; bunny girl began to take shape, as he deeply inhaled the rich fragrance that the  \n  \nnew vinyl gave off. Aroused by it, he slipped out of his clothing and settled  \n  \ndown beside the, at the moment, lifeless sheet of viynl... Plastic. A toy,  \n  \nreally. Nothing more. It would be a child's toy, but for it's nature, and but  \n  \nfor it's purpose. Artificial eyes stared up at the women that plastered his  \n  \nceiling.  \n  \n  \nJonas moaned softly. He whimpered faintly, in warm anticipation of the soft  \n  \nembrace he would soon share with his new lover. He pulled her over top of  \n  \nhim, allowing her to drape herself over him as his paws sought out her nozzle.  \n  \nLocating it, and working it open, he soon raised it to his muzzle... Beginning to  \n  \nblow life-giving air into her, as he reached over and switched off the light;  \n  \nreturning the room to the faint green glow. He slowly closed his eyes, in bliss,  \n  \nas he let his glasses fall from his face... To the bed... Miraculously, they  \n  \nseemed to find their way to the table at his bedside, entirely of their own  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; accord.  \n  \n  \nThe room was filled with the soft sound of his gentle determination... As he  \n  \nslowly filled his lungs with air, inflating them almost to their bursting point,  \n  \nbefore emptying them... Relieving them of their light, warm, burdon, by blowing  \n  \nthe sweet air into his expanding lover... Slowly, her form began to take shape.  \n  \nFilling out, becoming more ridged against his body. No longer draping over him,  \n  \nbut firmly, and warmly, resting against him. He trembled, as he continued his  \n  \nwork... Slowly huffing and puffing, his well-conditioned lungs doing what he had  \n  \nconditioned them to do; to give life to inanimate viynl... To make his lover  \n  \ncome alive, as only he could.  \n  \n  \nHe squeezed his eyes closed even tighter as his breaths became more strained,  \n  \nand his resolve still more firm; while her skin grew ever tighter, her body grew  \n  \never more full. He groaned, a muffled sound of pleasure, as the tip of  \n  \nhis shaft, already moist, rubbed up against her surface... Pressed closer. His  \n  \nbody trembled, as he gasped for one more breath... One final puff of air.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Something inside him... No, his entire being, wanted to continue; begged him to  \n  \ncontinue. But there was a voice, that little voice, deep inside him, that told  \n  \nhim to stop... Or he'd pop his new lover before he even got a chance to enjoy  \n  \nher.  \n  \n  \nWith a great reluctance, he took hold of the nozzle and closed it; Turning her  \n  \naround to face him so he could look upon her in the glow... Arms ourstretched to  \n  \nhim, beckoning him closer with a blissful, ignorant, smile... Her lips parted,  \n  \njust slightly, and eyes half-lidded in an artist's best approximation of a lusty  \n  \ngaze. He pulled her close to him, pressing his muzzle to hers, gently kissing.  \n  \nThe air-filled plastic yielded to him. Her arms seemed to encircle him, as she  \n  \nreturned his kiss...  \n  \n  \nWas it real? Or was it simply wishfull thinking? Was it his imagination that  \n  \ncaused him to detect this subtle, yet impossible, sensation? The sensation of  \n  \nsmooth, air-filled lips, parting before his inquisitive tongue as he pressed  \n  \nhis muzzle forward. The faint touch of a tentative, smooth, tongue curiously  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; tickling and exploring his own warm, fleshy, one. His mind discarded thoughts of  \n  \npossibility, and impossibility, as he silently succumbed to the persuasive will  \n  \nof his imagination. Her lips parted further, muzzle opening up wide for him as  \n  \nhe insistently, instinctively, pressed forward... As their kiss deepened.  \n  \n  \nHe thought nothing of it, utterly lost to the illusion of his fantasy... To the  \n  \nimpossible world he meticulously constructed inside his mind. So he didn't cry  \n  \nout, or struggle, as he felt her mouth, her muzzle, close around his. He only  \n  \nopened his eyes, to gaze up at the glittering green eyes. They gazed back; no  \n  \nlonger artificial, but alive with a sort of... Child-like amusement. His eyes  \n  \nslipped closed again, fluttering slightly as she opened up her mouth still  \n  \nwider... The material of her body stretching to accommodate more of his head.  \n  \nThe momentary gap created allowed him to, almost hurriedly, suck in one final,  \n  \ndeep, breath.  \n  \n  \nShe adhered tightly to him, every inch of her sweet-smelling skin clung  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; perfectly to the contours of his muzzle, head, and neck, as she continued to  \n  \nstretch herself even further... Well beyond, what he had always assumed, were  \n  \nthe limits of her material. With another surge ahead, on her part, and another  \n  \ninstinctive struggle forward, on his, she was able to get his shoulders into her  \n  \nridiculously distorted muzzle. He continued to struggle forward, slowly, as her  \n  \nsmoothness continued to progress down the length of his body. It wasn't as if  \n  \nshe were swallowing him...  \n  \n  \nNo.  \n  \n  \nRather he was almost crawling inside her. He needed this... Desperately. He  \n  \nwanted nothing more to be inside her, and did everything he could to aid her.  \n  \nDespite this nagging feeling... This burning tightness, he felt from somewhere  \n  \ninside him.  \n  \n  \nHe couldn't quite put his paw on it...  \n  \n  \nHe gasped. Or rather he tried to gasp, as he felt her lips close about his waist  \n  \nand felt the soft vinyl creep forward and begin to adhere snugly to his  \n  \npainfully erect, and sensitive, maleness. Something inside him, however, that  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; nagging little voice in the back of his mind, was screaming at him. But he  \n  \ncouldn't hear it... His mind clouded, from lack of oxygen, and his body torn by  \n  \nthe tremendous pressure within, the soft caress without, and the building  \n  \nclimax, surrounding it all... Binding it all together, somehow, making the  \n  \nexperience complete.  \n  \n  \nShe moved forward more quickly now, as he continued to press forward into the  \n  \ninky, smooth, black depths of his lover. Thighs... Knees... Calves. He felt less  \n  \nand less of it, his hands, feet, and the very tip of his tail seemingly  \n  \nenveloped in prickly, tingly, warmth. With not so much of a sound, not the  \n  \nfaintest of whimpers or whispers, his toes disappeared into her hungry,  \n  \ninflatable, maw, and his tail followed with a soft slurping sound.  \n  \n  \nThen there was nothing. Nothing left of him. She surrounded him completely,  \n  \nutterly... Holding him there in gray limbo as his body desperately,  \n  \ninstinctively, struggled for something... Freedom... Release... Air... The  \n  \ndarkness exploded, suddenly, as shards of light danced across his vision, as his  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; body gave in, succumbed... Submitted, at last, to the will of his synthetic  \n  \nlover. One last squirm, one final struggle... One titanic, world-shattering,  \n  \nclimax...  \n  \n  \nThen the shards, the lights, grew dim... Fading away slowly, as the blackness  \n  \nclosed in on him once again...  \n  \n  \n\"Oh lover,\" he heard a husky female voice say, somewhere out in the blackness,  \n  \n\"What \\*fun\\* we're going to have together...\"  \n  \n  \n-To be continued...  \n  \n\n"}