This Gender Reversed World Ain’t for Me (RSM)

Freya

"Ohhh~"

She was a goner.

She just knew it the moment his finger curled up inside her and pressed on that sweet spot. She moaned out loud, a sound that turned into the rattling cry of a sputtering engine on the cusp of stalling out. What was the purpose of a dildo again, when there was a thing so superior to that?

'I'm going crazy. I'm going crazy. I can't do this. I can't.'

But she did. She absolutely did.

Freya's grip on Damien's cock tightened, the pace quickening, her strokes going shorter, more focused on the tip of his cock. Her own hips began to grind against his hand. She pleaded his name against his mouth. A torturous 'Damien, Damien, Damien, Damien' that got more and more strained.

She was going to come. She knew it. She could feel it. It was right there, at the edge, hanging her upside down by the thread of a frayed rope.

But then she felt it.

Damien's cock twitched in her hand.

It was so obvious. It swelled, got even harder, the head becoming more pronounced against her palm, and a gush of precum spilled out onto her fingers.

He was going to come.

Her hand moved like a piston, up and down, slick and sloppy, squeezing and pulling. She was probably doing a terrible job—no skill whatsoever, but she was making up for it with enthusiasm.

And her nephew wasn’t disliking it either.

"Damien, come for me, baby. Come for Auntie. Come on..." She was whispering nonsense into his mouth, her breath hot, her eyes half-closed.

"Oh, fuck—Aunt..."

"Yes, that's it, sweetheart, that's it."

She felt his hips buck, his body tensing, his breath catching. His fingers inside her pushed in deeper, curling, rubbing, pressing.

She looked down, at that bulbous head and thick, throbbing shaft, the veins popping out. So close, so very close.

"Aunt...!"

Damien let out a strangled groan, his cock jerking in her hand, and Freya plunged forward, her mouth covering his cockhead just as the first spurt of cum shot out, hitting the back of her throat.

His eyes went even wider at suddenly finding his cute auntie’s lips sealed around his rod, with one hand firmly holding the base, as if it were an out-of-control hose.

She choked and swallowed, the taste of him going straight to her brain.

"Hmph~mm!"

'I'm... fucking... swallowing my... my... my...'

Was it incest or was it not? If no one saw, was it technically still a crime?

The texture of his seed was hot and thick and utterly delish.

An irreversible sensation, a memory that'd haunt her forever. A naughty one. Very naughty. But delicious all the same. She slurped at the pulsating head, hungrily suckling, drinking his cum greedily, swallowing every last drop that squirted out from his hole and into her waiting mouth.

Not that Freya had enough sobriety of mind to ponder more on that matter, as Damien certainly didn't sit still and quietly, never stopping his vigorous finger-fucking until, ultimately, her pleasure crested over the peak and Freya was now in a cross-eyed freefall through rose tinted clouds of ecstasy.

A force of such magnitude she simply... couldn't react. Her orgasm struck like thunder.

So great was the ecstasy that it bordered pain, tears forming at the corners of her eyes, rolling down her cheeks, leaving trails of moisture behind.

"Hnnnnggg~ fuck~"

She gasped for air, her lungs suddenly working at maximum capacity, feeling her cunt milking and sucking on Damien's fingers in unrelenting thirst just as her mouth was still sloppily doing on his spent length, with some trickles of seed running down her throat.

Some dribbling out at the corners of her gaping mouth.

Damien’s dick finally stopped pulsating, softening right over her tongue with one last, half-hearted spurt.

With a pop, Freya released him. A web of drool shimmered briefly, before falling apart as Damien’s cock fell flat on his stomach.

She sat back on her haunches, shuddering, thighs quaking as Damien's hand slowly slipped out from beneath her skirt, fingers glimmering with her arousal.

She sat there, gasping, panting. Trembling. Trying to collect herself.

'Did I just... oh fuck, did I seriously do that?'

A self-inflicted, guilt-laden slap to the cheek wouldn't bring Freya out of the realization of how shameful she was acting and thinking, her barely functioning brain attempting to calculate just how bad this little endeavor would be reflected in the court of public opinions.

'No... it's not like anyone knows, and even if they did... so what?'

Freya bit her trembling bottom lip, feeling something lodge at the base of her throat. A knot. The precursor to sobs, perhaps. She wasn't sure why.

Maybe the sheer knowledge of what she had just done with her precious little boy, what she'd taken from him, even when he had offered himself.

She didn't have the time nor the presence to ruminate over it, however, as her sex was a thirsty bitch and had already swallowed her nephew's digits like the hungry snake she was.

The warmth in her stomach spread downwards and across her whole body.

Could this be considered a grooming scenario? A tempting predator, a seductive serpent luring the pure lamb into the wild unknowns of the kinky land of sexual taboo, and in that same turn making the innocent victim just as twisted and immoral as herself?

'Seriously, calm the hell down!'

Freya's eyes snapped wide open at the sight of that very same innocent nephew of hers now licking his fingers of her secretions with a completely perverted glimmer to his previously angelic face. "D-D-Damien, no!" She latched onto his hand, stopping it from ever reaching his lips. "W-What are you doing?!"

If someone had to bear responsibility and be put to shame, Freya should do that alone. She couldn't drag Damien into a cesspool of wrongdoings, especially with a finger dipped in her filthy juices. "You must not!"

"Why not? You tasted mine."

She paled as if slapped. She had tasted his... she did taste his, indeed. In fact, her mouth was still filled with the last of his remains, which, frankly, wasn't gross. Far from it.

A vivid blush of shame flustered her. This was a punishment of sorts for being so careless.

"I-I know, but that was... t-this is..."

His flushed face pulled into a frown. "Actually... we have bigger problems right now. Or have you forgotten about this?" He pointed at the collection cup that rested completely empty of the donation he was meant to supply. A donation Freya had unwittingly, though enthusiastically, snatched.

"Ah."

Fuck.

That's right. This wasn't what Freya should be dwelling on and losing sleep over; that had to be how the fuck did they explain to the nurse that there was no semen for collection, despite Damien having obviously ejaculated.

"Damien... can y-you... go again?"

"I just came..."

"I know, I know. B-But you can. Men have a refraction period. R-Right?"

Freya knew she wasn't making much sense. It was the terror of her carelessness slowly dawning on her.

"Yeah but I still need some time..."

"How long?" Freya whispered shakily.

He glanced at his crotch. "Maybe if I have more motivation it'll be less."

Freya shuddered. "What kind of motivation..."

"......"

"......"

His hand grasped Freya's chin and tugged it gently downwards.

'Motivation.'

Freya closed her eyes and eagerly opened her mouth.

xXx

"Thank you for your donation, Mr. Winters." The nurse said as she took the container from Damien's hands. She flashed him a bright smile. "You have a very healthy... sample."

Freya coughed lightly into her hand. 'Yeah, should've seen his first load...' To this day, she didn't know that a man's produce could be so... plentiful.

Damien didn't reply. He just nodded with a non-committal smile, though he did look a bit hollow.

Freya, on the other hand, was trying her best to act normal. Which was fucking hard to do when her mouth was still sore from all that... activity, and her panties were still wet.

She also couldn't look at Damien without remembering how his face looked when he came. Or how his fingers felt inside her. Or the taste of him.

She cleared her throat again, adjusting her skirt, and wiping at her bottom lip after feeling something sticky clinging to it. After the sucessful donation, Freya had sneaked out to wait outside to not be seen together. The nurse, not a stupid woman, had given her a suspicious look but didn't say anything.

Willow was already waiting for them at the lobby, and she gave them both a questioning look as they walked out of the clinic. "How did it go?"

Damien shrugged. "Fine."

Willow's eyes shifted to Freya. "I was searching for you, where were you?"

"The toilet, sis." Freya replied evenly, a secret smile that she didn't allow to bloom on her lips. "Had to wash my hands."

Willow nodded, seemingly accepting the explanation. "Alright. Let's go home, then." She looked at Damien again, her expression softening. "Are you feeling alright, honey?"

Once the woman's focus was not on her, Freya inhaled the scent on her hand.

"Yes, Mom." Damien said, his voice a bit rough. "I'm fine."

He seemed a little hollowed out; Freya manhandled his cock quite aggressively the second time around due to the urgency of the situation.

"Can you two wait for me in the car?"

Willow and Damien turned to look at her.

"What is it?"

Willow tilted her head.

"Oh, nothing, nothing~" Freya smiled disarmingly. "Just need to sign a few papers, you know..."

Damien still looked puzzled, but understanding immediately dawned on Willow's features. "Oh, right. You go do that. We'll be waiting in the car."

Freya nodded and watched them leave before turning to walk back inside, towards the reception desk. The secretary looked up as she approached. "Is everything alright, Miss? Is there something I can help you with?"

"Yes, I'm here to buy." Freya said, pleasantly.

The secretary's smile didn't falter, but something dimmed in her eyes.

"For Mr. Winters' most recent donation?"

The secretary tapped a few keys.

"Yes, my sister and I are registered under the Family Genetics Reservation Program." Freya explained, taking out her ID card and sliding it across the counter. "We have priority access to any genetic material produced by our family members."

The secretary checked the information on her computer screen, nodding as she looked up Freya's data. "Of course, Miss Winters." She handed back the ID card. "You know that the rate would be exponentially higher than the open market rate for this particular, erm, product."

Yeah, reservation fees plus premium fees plus other fees just to make even more money out of them.

"I know." Freya smiled, placing her card back in her purse. "It doesn’t matter.”

Still…

A lucky loophole in the system. While an average man's donation would be allocated fairly through a random lottery system to all applicants to keep the population numbers from going down the drain. On the other hand, an exceptional male's sample, of which Damien clearly was one, was auctioned to the highest bidder.

Actors. Singers. Models. They all fell into that category. And while Damien had no documented talents or achievements, his looks and physical attributes were already enough to categorize him as such.

Therefore, his donations wouldn't simply go into a standard pool.

And family members could buy the sample for a steep price and get ahead of the line.

Average income women couldn't stand a chance. That was just how the cookie crumbled. She and Willow had been doing this since Damien turned eighteen, pooling their resources to ensure his donations would be kept within the family.

It was a very twisted way to ensure your nephew or son remained in the family's bloodline, but the times called for desperate measures.

At that rate, Freya could even consider herself a philanthropist with all the money she was practically throwing into the government's coffers with this single purchase, and the prior ones, and the future ones she'd purchase.

"Very well, how many vials would you like to purchase?"

Freya leaned forward, her smile widening. "All of it."

"......"

Yes, every single last drop. She didn't even want to give anyone the chance to get their hands on a single droplet of her precious, adorable nephew's DNA.

The transaction was processed quickly, with Freya's bank account being billed the astronomical sum that would've made any normal person faint at the sheer audacity.

But Freya didn't even flinch.

"The... donation will be delivered to your address within the week, Miss Winters. Thank you for your patronage."

"Thank you."

Freya turned and walked out, a victorious smirk on her face.

The automatic doors slid shut behind her.

Outside, the police car was still parked across the street. Freya frowned before making her way into the car. Willow was in the driver's seat, Freya in the passenger's, and Damien in the back.

Freya glanced at him through the rearview mirror, meeting his gaze. He was looking at her, his expression unreadable.

She gave him an unreadable look as well, their eye-contact through the rearview mirror not lasting more than a couple of seconds before it was broken.

She had crossed a line. A damn big one. So, it would do her good, Freya told herself, to never step across it again.

"You both are unusually quiet. Did something happen?" Willow's inquiry broke the silence, drawing Freya away from her contemplation, and was quickly met with an outspoken: "Nothing happened." And the disassociated: "It was normal."

Willow nodded with a small smile and a hint of confusion.

The car sputtered alive, and drove off.

Freya averted her eyes from the mirror, though she couldn't help but glance at Damien's reflection in the corner of the window. Her heart lurched in approval to the sight of his tiredly slumped but sexy form.

Was it that terrible of her to get a smug satisfaction, a petty satisfaction, over knowing Damien's masturbatory relief had come to the hands—and mouth—of her and no other person.

Yes, yes, Freya knew she was gross and immoral, and a cradle-robbing whore who preyed on her own nephew. Who got him off. Bought his sperm.

No need to point a finger or shill stones at her, for she had no excuses or explanations for it.

Worse was, after all was said and done, did Damien actually feel violated, or had he just willingly indulged in her whim, only to regret it later.

'Should I talk to him later...?'

At least to ease the burden on her chest a little.

She sighed as Willow pulled into the driveway. As soon as the engine was turned off, Damien hopped out of the car and made a beeline for the front door.

Freya watched him go with a heavy heart.

"Freya, are you sure everything's okay?" Willow asked, her eyes filled with concern.

"Everything's fine." Freya replied, unbuckling her seatbelt. "I'm just... a bit tired." She rubbed her jaw; Damien was fucking big. It was the kind of soreness she'd gladly feel everyday, though.

Willow reached out and gently patted her hand. "You've been working too hard. You should take a break."

"Yeah... maybe." Freya forced a smile.

Willow coughed, hands still on the steering wheel. She hadn't moved an inch. "So... did you get it?"

Freya blinked, momentarily confused, before she remembered what Willow was talking about. She laughed. "Yes, I got it."

"Good." Willow nodded, her fingers tapping on the leather. "Good..."