Date: Thu, 6 Feb 2014 08:24:45 -0800 (PST)
From: ben albrecht <orpfynmakyr@yahoo.com>
Subject: 72 hours of immersion, chapter 2

"72 hours of immersion" (or, "Happy First-of-winter festival!")
by grandmoff

This story will feature female, male, and intersexed (futanari,
hermaphrodite, or whatever term you'd like to use) as well as homosexual,
pansexual, and heterosexual characters. Please don't read the story if that
will offend you.

Part Two: The players

oOOOo

Harkje must have been exhausted.  I woke and looked at my phone and
discovered it was already 1050, but she was sleeping soundly.  I got out of
the sleeping bag I'd borrowed.  My muscles protested; I hadn't slept on a
floor since my first year of college.  I stretched and winced at my little
aches and pains, then I went to the large rucksack and looked inside it.

My companion had remembered the essentials.  She had food, coffee, towels,
at least one change of clothes, and bathroom necessities in the pack.  She
hadn't brought anything from my room at all.  It would have been easy for
her to sneak in and grab some of my stuff--then I realized that she hadn't
gone near Ms. Garrikoet's place.  If she had done so, people would have had
more reason to believe that I was with her.  Since she said that a few
people already suspected that, she had done the only sensible thing by
leaving my things in my rented room.  I hoped that it would all be safe
there.

As I looked at the supplies, I knew that she was going to offer to lend me
some of the clothing.  It would be too big for me if it was hers, but she
wasn't so much larger than I am that I would be swimming in her clothes.

I considered taking some of the clothes and one of the towels and going to
the showers right away, but I found that I couldn't.  It would be
presumptuous to the point of being rude, especially when I considered that
it must have taken her a lot of time and effort to sneak back without
giving away what she was doing.

I didn't know how long she'd been asleep, but I was hungry and I wanted
that shower, so I decided to risk being a small nuisance.  I sat on my
knees next to Harkje's sleeping bag and touched her shoulder.

After a little blinking, her soft green eyes focused on me.  "I'm sorry to
wake you," I said.

She half-mumbled, half-yawned something.  I could tell from her body
language that she meant, "Don't worry about it," or something similar.

"I wanted to get washed and dressed.  May I use the clothes you brought?"

She sat up, rolled her shoulders, twisted her torso, and looked more awake.
"Clothes.  Yes."  With a quick motion, she unzipped her sleeping bag and
hopped out of it.  She was in loose mint-green flannel pajamas; they looked
comfortable and warm.  I had figured I'd be staying in a hotel so I hadn't
brought sleepwear on this trip.  I'd felt warm enough in the sleeping bag,
but standing in the cool room, I wished I was in more than just a faded,
tight t-shirt and cotton string-bikini panties.

Harkje produced a little bundle of clothes from her pack and held them out
to me.

I put them on top of the towel I'd already fished from the bag.  "Thank
you.  You can go back to sleep, you know."

"I have had plenty of sleep," she said.  "Also, I did some thinking last
night.  I was not going to tell you, but I will--about how our village is
different.  Maybe you have seen.  If not, I hope you will not be scared."
She had selected a change of clothing and a towel too.  I fell into step
beside her, toward the showers.

When we got to the locker room, I put down the clothes and toiletries and
stripped.  I was standing kind of across from Harkje.  She was doing the
same thing I was doing.  When she took off her pajama top, (I was a little
surprised; her breasts were larger than I'd thought at first) she put her
hands on the waist of her bottoms.  She looked me in the eye.  I could see
she was a little...scared, maybe?

She tugged down the pajama bottoms--and the boxers she was wearing under
them--with a quick motion, like she was ripping off a bandage.

Between her legs hung a penis and testicles.

Of course, I couldn't help staring for two or three seconds.  When I looked
back up at her, she looked really anxious, like she was ready to dodge if I
threw something at her.

Okay, I was a little freaked out.  But I didn't feel threatened.  "It looks
fine," I said, not able to think of much else to say.  "Um, you are getting
a sex change?"

She put her hands over her crotch, and looked away from me.  "This is a
town secret.  I am this way from birth.  Many of us are."

I'm no biologist, but that sounded unlikely to my ears.  "You were born
with both?" I asked.  She gave a small nod.  "A lot of people in this town
are born with both?"  She nodded again.  "How does that happen?"

"I don't know," she said.  "Dr. Tomassov studies this, but I have not heard
her ideas about it."

Could it be true?  For the moment, it didn't matter.  "You can put down
your hands," I said, trying to give Harkje a reassuring smile.  "I've seen
those before."

She blushed a little.  We got our towels and toiletries and took our
showers.  I couldn't help being curious; I glanced at Harkje a couple of
times.  I don't think she noticed me looking.  Comparing what I saw of her
to previous boyfriends, her penis looked average-sized, or maybe just a
little bigger.

When we were drying off and getting dressed, I noticed that my blonde
companion was turning away and keeping her distance a little more than
usual.  "Really, I'm not bothered," I said to her.  I put my hand on her
shoulder and gave her a friendly pat.  "We don't need to act differently."

We went to the home economics room (I was a little surprised they had one,
but why shouldn't they?) and I made sausage-and-cheese omelets from the
supplies Harkje had brought.  I was a little worried that the smell might
give us away, but she told me that the building's ventilation system made
that very unlikely.  We soon had a late breakfast.  My tall companion
helped me learn a bit more of the odd dialect the townspeople used.

"I had better go to work," Harkje said to me as she set down her fork.

"It's a festival; what kind of festival has work?"

"The hours are very short: 1200 to 1600.  And working is not expected.
Being at the place of work is."

"I think I understand," I said.  If people still had to go to work, their
admirers would know where to find them and score.  Also, if this festival
was really ancient--and Harkje had implied it was--then there would have
been chores that needed to be done everyday, celebration or not.  The
festival had changed with the times, but not completely.

If I was honest with myself, I was a little curious to see how this thing
worked, close-up.  I like learning about other cultures, not just other
languages.  Seeing the dynamics of claiming intimate favors, having sex in
the freezing cold outdoors, reactions of other people--significant others
in particular--the problem was that I couldn't make myself invisible.  If I
went to observe, I would be chosen to participate.  My host thought so and
I didn't doubt that she was right.  Guys seem to like how I look: I'm 161
cm, roughly 56 kg, and my late fiance always liked my C-cups with their
large, lavender-mahogany nipples.  I'm not a model, but the university
where I work often puts pictures of me in their publications--sometimes I
even get on the covers.

Harkje got into her coat, scarf, hat, and gloves, readying herself for the
cold of the new winter.  Today she was wearing a skirt instead of pants,
but otherwise looked very much like she had the day before.

I had more questions for her.  I wanted her to stay so I could talk to her.
"You won't be gone long, will you?" I asked.

"Maybe it will be 1700 when I get back," she answered.  "Or 1800.  Sorry,
but you will have to eat lunch alone."

"Okay, I'll see you later tonight," I said, not feeling as cheerful as I
forced myself to sound.

"Bye-bye," said Harkje.  I had a suspicion that she was forcing herself to
sound cheerful too.

oOOOo

The school building was by itself near the edge of town.  I figured no one
would see me if I looked out the windows, as long as they weren't on the
ground floor.

Keeping that in mind, I checked out the building more thoroughly.  Soon,
however, I was debating myself about the risk of entering the library.  It
was on the ground floor, and it had a lot of large windows along the
southeastern and southwestern walls.  The allure of the library was that it
had lots of local newspapers and magazines: more than the public library
had had for sure.  Reading those could really help my knowledge of this
place.

But what if someone saw me and I got pulled into the First-of-Winter
Festival?  Harkje had taken pains to keep me hidden.  She made light of it,
but I knew I was a major inconvenience to her.  If I got discovered while
she was gone, it would feel like I'd made her go to all that trouble for
nothing.

In the end, I let myself make a raid.  Peeking carefully from corners
first, I made as sure as I could that the coast was clear.  Then I crept
slowly along the northeastern wall, pulled a bunch of periodicals from the
shelves, and quietly fled from the library again.

In our second floor "bedroom," I began reading, taking notes, and otherwise
putting my training as an anthropological scholar to good use.

Normally, I can stay focussed on languages and social structures.  This
time, my mind wandered to genetics.  I'd like to have a talk with that
doctor Harkje had mentioned.  Dr. Tomasen?  Tomassov?  Yeah, Tomassov
sounded right.  If there really were a lot of natural intersex births in
this village, she must have some ideas why.

I shook my head.  It was a waste of time to think about that by myself.  I
got up from my chair and made a couple of small ham-and-swiss sandwiches
for lunch.  After lunch, I got deeper into the study of the town's society.

oOOOo

At 1555, I put aside the local news journal I'd been reading.  I stood and
rolled my neck, trying to work out the stiffness of my back muscles.  I was
drawn to the big window.  It was darker in the school building than it was
outside and I was on the second floor, a meter back--not pressed against
the plexiglass.  No one would be able to see me from outside the building.
Part of my mind was eager, wanting to spot an intersexed person besides
Harkje.  If they were common here, I should be able to spot one.  (After
all, I had only the tall librarian's word that there were other intersexed
villagers.  While I didn't think she would lie about that, she might if she
was embarrassed or worried about scaring me away.)

I started scanning the outdoors for sexual activity.

There was a couple--a clothed man and giving a reverse-cowgirl ride to a
naked woman--about 100 m away.  Not far from them, but across the wide
street, there were three people--no, four.  In this group, a mostly-clothed
woman was the center of attention for two naked women and a naked man.  My
curiosity spiked: one of the women was moving as though she was using a
strap-on, but perhaps she wasn't.  If only they weren't so far from the
window!  I couldn't make out enough detail to see if she was intersexed.

My brain said: this is a secondary school, dipshit; there's an astronomy
class!  I turned from the window and scurried toward the door, trying to
remember where the astronomy room had been.

After 10 minutes of hasty searching, I found a portable telescope.

I returned to "our bedroom" and set up the tripod, then placed the
telescope carefully in its mounts.

The group of four had gone, unfortunately.  The chill of winter all but
ensured that these festival trysts would be brief.  I was a little
disappointed, but now that I had better vision, I could expand my search.

Through the lens, I made a sweep of the town's open spaces.  There were a
naked man and a clothed woman in a missionary position, not what I was
after.  A bit to the right, a threesome: a clothed man taking it
doggy-style from a naked man while a clothed woman used her hands to stroke
the clothed man's penis and massage the naked man's balls.  Just up the
street, in front of a smallish tavern were a clot of half a dozen people:
two men and two women were naked, two women were clothed.

The clothed women drew my attention.  They were seated, bouncing the nude
women on their laps.  The nude men had their cocks in the clothed women's
mouths, getting energetic blowjobs.  The telescope showed me all the
details.

It was true.  Neither of the clothed women was using a toy; both of them
had cocks of their own.  What was more, neither of these clothed women was
Harkje.

My question was answered.

As I watched, one of the men--a tall, light-brown-haired lad probably just
out of his teens--closed his eyes and put one of his hands in the hair of
his fellatrix.  The intersexed woman--also light-brown-haired, but probably
in her late 30s or early 40s--closed her eyes also, and hollowed her cheeks
as she sucked hard.  The 30-something brunette who was riding her leaned
forward, using her tongue to stroke the exposed part of the guy's shaft.
The intersexed woman's cheeks relaxed again.  I kind of wished I could hear
the sounds this group produced.  The young man pulled his penis from the
older woman's mouth.  Her rich, plum lipstick was partially coated with
shiny white slime.  The smaller woman on her lap kissed her hungrily,
throwing her arms around the dually-endowed woman beneath her.  The
bouncing went faster and faster and suddenly the naked woman relaxed, just
sitting on the thighs of her temporary lover.  For her part, the clothed
woman kept thrusting her hips a few moments longer.  Then she, too, was
motionless.  The naked woman stood up after one more long kiss.  The
clothed woman's cock slid from the smaller woman's pussy, making a mess on
the rumpled top of her khaki pants.  (She'd only pulled down her pants a
bit, obviously not wanting to get too cold.)

My gaze immediately shifted to the other trio.  The naked woman was
probably in her mid-20s; a short, heavy-set girl with pale skin and lots of
freckles.  As she rode the woman under her, her braided, flaming red hair
whipped around her shoulders, emphasizing the exuberance of her movements.
The woman with the penis had long, straight, honey blonde hair and she wore
black-framed glasses.  She was mostly clothed, but her coat and blouse were
unbuttoned, showing her small, firm breasts with their wide pink nipples.
Her conservative skirt was hiked up in front to give the redhead access to
her cock.  The man had dark brown hair, including a well-trimmed beard.  He
was stocky and his chest, arms, and legs were also covered in fine brown
hair.

The redhead picked up her pace, and appeared to have an orgasm--her chin
thrust upward and her mouth opened wide in what was probably a howl while
her hands clenched the coat of the woman she was fucking.  Then the
red-haired woman got off the blonde's lap.  Her partners seemed surprised
by that, but only for a second.  The three changed their postures.  The
redhead squatted in front of the blonde.  The blonde woman bent over to
accept the brown-haired man's cock from behind.  The red-haired girl gulped
the blonde's thick, wet tool, taking it pretty deeply into her mouth and
trying to coax it deeper.  The blonde steadied herself by putting her hands
on the redhead's shoulders.  The threesome got into a quick rhythm.

The redhead's face turned pink; it looked like the blonde was blowing her
load and the redhead was trying to swallow all of it.  I wasn't sure, but I
thought I saw a rivulet of semen squirt from the corner of her mouth while
she fought to keep from gagging.  The man tensed and slammed his hips into
the blonde's ass in short, rapid strokes.  The redhead let the blonde's
spent penis flop out of her mouth.  Only a moment later, the man backed
off.  A thin stream of semen and pussy juice flowed from the blonde's cunt.

Were there other intersexed people to observe?  I slowly and carefully
pivoted the telescope.  What I most wanted to see was one of these
penis-owning women claiming another intersexed woman.

As I looked around, I saw that there were fewer people outdoors right now.
They were probably getting ready for the evening meal.  After that, the
action would probably pick up; last night had been very busy, after all.

Using the telescope, I continued to scan the town for just a bit longer.
It seemed like only couples were taking part in the festivities at the
moment--wait!  There was a group of three, and at least one of them was
intersexed.  What about the clothed woman with the fur-trimmed hood and
short blonde hair?  If she would just turn a bit--she might be a--

--I heard the "bedroom" door handle click.  I spun on my heel, in time to
see Harkje, bag of supplies in hand, open the door.

She stood silently, looking at me and at the telescope.

In my mind, I chewed myself out for not thinking about how this would seem.

"I'm glad you're back," I said quietly, just to break the uncomfortable
pause.

Her cheeks were pinker than usual, but she gave me a thin smile.  "I
brought food to make into dinner," she said slowly.

I took the bag from her hand and set it on the counter.  "You look tired,"
I told her.  She wasn't big on makeup, but the little she had applied was
smeared and splotched.  She'd unzipped her coat; I could see spatters of
drying fluids on her blouse and skirt; she'd clearly been kept busy today.

I got a towel.  "No point in washing now," she said, seeing what I
intended.  "After dinner, I must go.  Otherwise, people will wonder."

Grasping her hand, I said, "There is a point.  Come along."

We went to the showers, and I helped her out of her clothes.  It was as
though I had never really seen how she looked.  She had an acne scar or
two, but her face was smooth, with high cheeks, possessing an uncomplicated
androgynous beauty.  She had long, supple arms and legs.  Her lean torso
carried at most an extra two or three kg; her lowest ribs were slightly
visible under her full breasts.  Her pubic hair was so light blonde it was
almost white and she'd trimmed it to a cm or so in length.  Her hips and
shoulders were wide and powerful-looking.  Her circumcised penis--while not
being short or thin--looked somehow girly.  The veins weren't prominent,
compared with other penises I'd seen, maybe that was why.

It was likely that Harkje got much more than her share of attention at the
First-of-Winter Festival.

I got out of my clothes quickly.  I set up the little shower stool and
turned on the hot water.  I didn't speak and neither did she.  I gently
shampooed and massaged and rinsed her.  It only took a few minutes, but
when I'd finished, she looked a lot less tired than she had.  I handed her
the towel and she smiled gratefully.

Using the supplies she'd brought, we made a meal of clam chowder, French
bread, fresh carrots and radishes, and sharp cheddar cheese, accompanied by
a fairly strong local pilsner.  We talked a little bit, mostly about the
things I'd read concerning local customs and traditions earlier in the day.
We spent more than an hour talking and eating, enjoying the companionship.

"Well, I had better get outside," Harkje said, sounding a little
apologetic.

"I'll see you soon!" I said to her, handing her a plaid wool scarf.

oOOOo

As soon as she'd gone, I found myself drawn to the telescope again.  As I
bent toward the eyepiece, I allowed myself to think about what I'd felt
earlier.

I was attracted to Harkje.  She hadn't wanted or needed sex in the shower,
but I'd--had I wanted it?  True, she was like no one I'd ever met, but it
wasn't just because her body was different.  Her circumstances and the way
she dealt with things were unique too.  Had I wanted sex with her?  Maybe,
but maybe what I'd really wanted was to touch her, and to somehow...give
her something?

What would I give her?  What was happening here?

I only stayed at the telescope for a few minutes.  I had no idea when she'd
be back, but in the meantime, I could be reading and learning something.

oOOOo

End of Part Two

--I will continue this story if there is enough interest.  So please
comment, review, fave, or vote if you are interested, dear readers!