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This story was written for Phenokage. It contains solo masturbation and gender-shifting/TF involving a consenting adult. :3

That Morning Itch

Tommy always went to bed lying upon his side, but he always woke up belly down. His eyes fluttered open as his alarm sounded, and with a groan the kangaroo rolled himself over. He reached out and grabbed his phone, shutting the alarm off before it could kick its own volume up another degree, setting it back down on the bedside cabinet perhaps a little more carelessly than he should. Then, as the residual fatigue of his slumber faded and reality began to swirl into more clear focus around him, he flopped down onto his back. He reached down to his belly, and as always began to run his hands through the soft sandy fur which was present there.

Every morning, without exception, he found his belly itchy as heck when he first awoke. Something to do with the heat and the compression of his fur between his bed and his flesh. It didn't last long, it never proved a major irritation or gave him a rash or anything like that, but it had become something of a ritual for Tommy to indulge for a minute or so first thing each morning in just lying there, rubbing at his belly and easing that itchiness with the deliciously pleasing probing of his fingertips.

"Mmmh..."

His toes curled, large, strong feet sticking out from the end of the soft summer sheets, quivering and flexing in delight at the feelings provoked by his self-induced belly rubs. His back arched slightly, and his eyes rolled in their sockets with pleasure as he reached his fingers a little further south upon the lean figure of his stomach. Only... instead of feeling the continued softness of his fur and smooth, warm, itchy skin beneath his fingers, Tommy felt something... else. Something different. Something new.

He felt his hand sliding its way between what felt like two folds of flesh, and all of a sudden there was no fur any more. Just a greater heat, and a slight moisture, not sticky or sweaty, just... an oddly natural dampness. His head rose up from his pillow, one eyebrow cocked even as his hand continued to slowly venture into whatever it was he was feeling. He wasn't freaking out, though a part of him was rather nervously, internally asking why he wasn't freaking out, and as he peered down to where his hand was disappearing beneath the sheets and drew them back with his other paw, Tommy almost laughed out loud. He didn't cry out. He didn't scream. He just snorted with mirth at the sheer impossible ridiculousness of what he was seeing.

Positioned about a third of the way down his stomach, a few inches above where his navel should have been visibly resting, there was indeed a visible fold, a lip of furred flesh protruding slightly above the rest. A lip which ran from side to side of his torso, and one which while entirely unfamiliar to Tommy personally he recognised instantly. He'd had sex ed in school back when he was growing up. He'd seen more than his share of porn over the years, many women of his own species amongst the individuals he'd watched. And of course, he'd been with a marsupial woman personally. Sexually. Thus, Tommy knew what he was looking at. He knew he was looking at a pouch, and even though by any and all measures of reality Tommy knew that it should not have been possible for him to possess such anatomy, never mind having it appearing out of thin air, he couldn't bring himself to truly freak out. Indeed even now, staring at the pouch in wonder as one of his paws lingered with its fingers already inside of it, there was only one thing that Tommy truly knew he wanted to do.

The morning itch was still there, and thus more than anything right now, Tommy wanted to scratch it.

He reached deeper into the pouch, pressing the entirety of his hand into the damp, fleshy pocket, and gasped sharply. His eyes bulged. He shuddered, and a brief, strangled huff of air burst from his lungs in shock. There was no pain. No discomfort, quite the opposite in fact as one of his blindly searching, exploring fingers stuck something. A small nub of flesh, protruding from the inner surface of the pouch, what would once have been the outer flesh of his stomach. He ran his finger over that nub again, and cried out as another finger close by accidentally brushed against another. The pleasure was surprisingly intense. Not perhaps worthy of vocal cries the likes of which he had just let loose under normal circumstances, but certainly enough to have provoked them in a moment of such surprise and unpreparedness.

"S-she... she hadn't been kidding... goddamn..."

His past girlfriend, the kangaroo like him, had loved it when he played with her pouch. When he teased the nipples hidden away inside of it with his fingers. He'd almost been embarrassed by how into it she could get, as though having his hand upon her pouch was more pleasurable than having other parts of him elsewhere within her. But now... now, if faced with that woman in his bed once more, he wouldn't doubt her. He wouldn't feel strange or embarrassed groping around inside her pouch as they made love. Because even now he could feel his own cock hardening, swelling rapidly as he continued to grope at the four small, perky nipples present within his pouch's interior. Alone the stimulation of those nipples was wonderful, but in combination with a more... active source of pleasure?

Tommy's eyes widened as he grasped his swelling shaft in his free hand, squeezing it just as he squeezed one of the pouch's nipples between two fingers. He had no paws to slap over his mouth in that moment, so the cry he let loose echoed around his bedroom and probably the whole apartment beyond. Fuck, that was good. He sank back to the bed moments later, trembling as his instinctively arched back relaxed, but didn't move either one of his hands away from the tender flesh they were now assailing. Indeed he kept them moving upon those intimate spots, rubbing at his cock, teasing at the interior of his pouch, fingers roaming over all four of the swollen, tender nipples and fighting to divide their attention equally amongst each of those oh so receptive, achingly tender nubs.

"O-ohhhh... oh..."

He gasped and moaned to himself in blissed out elation, eyes no longer bulging but simply staring unfocused and glazed up at the ceiling, mouth hanging open, tongue flicking and trembling occasionally as though a part of the kangaroo's mind was fantasising about him sharing a kiss with some imagined partner as his nipples and cock were toyed with. Any such fantasies were only at the back of the kangaroo's mind though, for right now the majority of his mind was more than happy to simply take this pleasure for what it was. Indeed the more he became lost in the wild and potent waves of pleasure surging through him, the less he was focused on the motion of his hand upon his cock. The more solely, the more wonderfully his mind was dedicated in increasing volumes to the motion of his fingers upon his nipples and the somehow comforting heat of his pouch's interior around the entirety of his trembling hand.

"So good. S-so... aahh..."

It might have been a silly thought, it might have been totally wrong, but as he masturbated and toyed with his nipples ever more urgently Tommy couldn't help but wonder if it was always this good, this overwhelming to masturbate with a pouch. He still had no idea how or why he had come to possess it, but already he found himself hoping that this was no dream or hallucination, no temporary glitch in reality that would soon be fixed for better or worse. He didn't want or need to question the reason why, just so long as he could continue feeling this way. Not just good, not just filled with pleasure, but... it was almost as though the very presence of the pouch and his hand upon it, within it made him feel more attractive. More beautiful both to himself, and hopefully to anyone else who would witness him if at any point he was able to tear himself away from the bed and this immense, overwhelming source of pleasure now resting upon his belly.

"Yes!"

Tommy cried out in strained, shrill voice as their hips rose up from the bed, bucking into the air and launching a cascade of thick ribbons of cum skyward.

"Yes!"

Their thighs trembled, plump, thick, feminine and yet strong as they bucked and huffed their way through that intense orgasm, the motion of their hand upon the throbbing length clutched in its grasp not slowing in the slightest and the groping of the pouch's interior only growing more eager and intense as the pleasure burst through Tommy's form over and over again. By the time they fell back to the bed, panting and whimpering, their mind was so over-stimulated and overrun by pleasure and by wonder that they didn't question their lack of recovery. They didn't stop touching themselves, and didn't think for even a moment that it was unnatural or strange for that to be the case. If this pleasure wasn't stopping now, if they could grant themselves more of the same just by continuing to fondle their swollen nipples inside that warm, damp pouch, then so be it. The more, the better.

Tommy whimpered as the kangaroo's curvy torso writhed and squirmed with every new touch they lavished upon their pouch's innards, the other hand rubbing and groping between their legs in a frenzy that seemed more meant to enhance the stimulation of their nipples than the other way round. They threw back their head, long, chestnut brown curls resting upon the pillows beneath as a high pitched, lustful shriek escaped them.

"D-don't stop..."

Something about that cry sounded strange to Tommy, unfamiliar, but they couldn't bring themselves to pause and grant their mind the clarity needed to focus and analyse what exactly seemed so odd. All they could do was keep on working their body to its limits, whimpering, gasping, trembling from twitching ears to curling toes. Revelling in every eruption of pleasure as they teased with unceasing and still ever growing passion at their pouch's interior and wailed as they slipped two fingers inside themselves at long last, feverishly renewing the urgency of their masturbation as their thumb dragged back and forth with instinctive savagely over their swollen clit.

A desperate, frantic whimper of shock escaped Tommy as she realised something mere moments later. Something so incredible, so overwhelming occurred to the kangaroo as she felt her curvaceous form writhing upon the bed, her fingers feverishly plunging in and out of her aching, dripping wet pussy and grinding at the nub of her clit.

"Oh god!"

She cried out, wailing in absolute wonder and joy, unable to conceive how she hadn't realised this obvious truth sooner.

"O-ohhh my god, yes!"

She tweaked at her internal nipples rather viciously, shrieking as a gush of hot ejaculate poured from her pussy, surging out over her fingers as she began to cum uncontrollably for the second time in fewer than ten minutes. But still, even as she clamped down around the trembling fingers inside her nether regions and explored and teased at her pouch's unbearably sensitive inner workings amidst that extreme ecstasy, she didn't tire. She didn't feel even a fraction of her desire or passion abating, indeed it felt more renewed and invigorated than ever by this sudden realisation of the truth. The wonderful, glorious truth of her situation.

All over again she began to drive herself towards another peak. To pleasure her writhing, beautiful, feminine body faster and more violently than ever. And it was that truth, that gleeful, overwhelmingly obvious fact which fuelled her, alongside of course the irresistible, addictive pleasure emanating from inside the fuzzy pocket of her pouch.

The truth, the simple, wonderful reality of Tommy's situation was precisely this.

It was Saturday.

She'd set her alarm as though it was a week-day, and as though she had work to get up for. But there was no work today. Thus, no reason for her to get out of bed.

And for that reason, pleasuring herself wildly and with absolutely no regard for the fact that as she had driven herself to those first few orgasms her body had changed to a new and almost unrecognisably wonderful form, Tommy kept on masturbating herself.

She kept on pleasuring her new, soaking wet pussy with her fingers, and fondling gleefully her sensitive, achingly needy nipples inside her pouch. On, and on, and on without any sign of slowing or any need to cut herself short.

She could pleasure herself all morning, all day if she wanted to, and of course if her body allowed it to happen.

And as with every touch, with every wave of pleasure to surge through her the kangaroo's pouch continued to beg to be touched and teased all over its interior, like the most delicious itch that just would not go away, the female 'roo did precisely that.

By Jeeves

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