Her fingertips reached a small nub, and then touched the beginnings of some wetness.Her fingertips continued, and slid between the slickness of that c...ease.“Fuck,” she muttered again.She was soaked.“What would he be saying to me now?” she wondered to herself. “What would he say if he could feel my wet pussy? That’s probably the word he’d use. No vagina. No labia. Just pussy. Maybe I’d correct him and say something.”She felt the wetness pervading her sex.“Maybe I’d just tell him to call it my. Well. Well. Have a good life. Farewell, Well." Noclarification was necessary.I wasn't the creation of love, but a whim. Not that it excused mybehaviour. Plenty of people had similar origin, and were more or lesswell-adjusted.Guis took me to a sterile office, where he and others described theplanned operations. I was glad I was sitting.My future uterus and related systems would be radically 'upgraded'. Alot of words with 'fetation' were uttered, but gist was that myfertility could be remotely. More

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