Compartments II - The Housewarming (extraction, futa solo, futa/male, futa/futa)
Story by jokermon
Compartments II - The Housewarming
Romance. Extraction Centers. Casseroles.
A novel by jokermon (sasquatch_9@hotmail.com)
This is a work of erotic fantasy fiction. It contains graphic futanari (hermaphrodite) content. If that's not your bag, don't read it. If reading this type of material is unlawful where you reside due to your age or whatever, don't read it. The people and events in this story are completely fictitious and are not meant to represent any real-life people or medical conditions. This story is copyright the author©2019. Do not repost without permission.
The first Compartments story can be found here.
Prologue
Prologue
Some lunatic firebombed the extraction center in our town two years ago. Ordinarily, that would have warranted no more than a glance at the evening news and a click of the tongue, but it had a huge impact on my family. The extraction center was in a repurposed church on the edge of a residential area. The fire spread to the nearest house, which was ours. It burned to the ground. My son and I were off on a weekend camping trip when it happened. My wife was not so lucky.
The bombing happened in the middle of the night while Donna was sleeping. The firemen assured us that the smoke would have gotten to her first and in all likelihood, she never woke up. This was scant comfort to my son and I at the time.
A new extraction center popped up almost immediately. Getting my life back together has taken longer. I didn’t just lose the love of my life and my home, but my livelihood as well. Donna and I ran a small-but-successful IT business from our basement and the fire took all our computers and dearly-bought servers. Both my wife and our property were insured, of course (she insisted we both have comprehensive coverage), but because the cause of the fire was arson, the insurance companies have been finding excuse after excuse to avoid paying what they owe. I’ve yet to see a dime from those people. I’ve been fighting them, but the whole process has put my life on hold.
I took a job at a local flower nursery so I wouldn’t burn through our savings. I’ve been trying to find more appropriate and better-paying tech work, but so far, Habitat Nursery is the only place around here hiring. My son and I moved into my mother’s old double-wide. It was all she left me when she passed, and all we could afford.
It was disheartening to move back into my childhood home. I grew up in that trailer park and worked like hell to get out of it. I put myself through college and that’s where I met Donna. Raising Matthew in Mom's old trailer was the last thing I wanted, but it was our least-worst option. My son, incidentally, has been an absolute champ about adjusting to our reduced circumstances. He never complained once, not even when I had to shift him to a new school closer to home for the start of his sophomore year. He knows I didn’t want any of this for him.
The one good thing to come of all this is my son and I have never been closer. We helped each other through it and came out the other side bruised but whole. Losing his mom matured him, sobered the teenage silliness out of him. While I’m proud of the focused and serious young man he’s becoming, I do wish he could have stayed a kid longer.
Then we met Maisie and everything changed.
Chapter 1 - Backyard Bonanza (futa solo)
The day we first became aware of our new neighbor started out normally enough, at least until I got home. I’d spent an exhausting shift heaving fertilizer sacks around and was caked with dried sweat and grime. I was really looking forward to a shower.
I sat for a moment behind the wheel of my truck and grimaced. Usually when people come home, there’s a sense of relief and contentment. They’re safe and where they should be. I never had that at the trailer park. Whenever I came home, I always had a profoundly dissatisfied sense of not being where I belonged. I wasn’t where I was supposed to be, not in terms of my house, my career or my life. I'd had that out-of-place feeling a lot since Donna died.
I walked in to find my son naked and masturbating in the main living area of our trailer.
That in itself wasn’t unusual. My son is a healthy, horny young guy, bursting with those precious adolescent juices. I don’t mind him expressing it. He’s discovering his sexuality and that’s a beautiful thing. My boy’s thickly well-hung, just like his old man, and it gives me a satisfied feeling knowing he’s virile and vigorous. Usually he whacks off to a porno on o
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