Howard’s Night with a Hermaphrodite

What if Howard could love Old Gregg? And what exactly is a mangina?


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Notes: Thank you to The Lizard for betaing. My first non-RPS.

Howard’s Night with a Hermaphrodite by plainjane

Salt, seaweed and murkiness.

Those were the three things Howard smelled as he kissed Old Gregg. Not exactly pleasant, but it was better than nothing. He wasn’t really sure how this strange turn of events had happened. One minute he’d been having a nice fish on Black Lake and the next minute he’d been accosted by a sea transsexual.

Of course, in the beginning, he’d been scared when the strange green man had shown up in the boat surrounded my mist. The mist had been thick and eerie, shrouding him, moist against his skin. At first he’d thought that Old Gregg was going to kill him. The merman certainly seemed like a psychopath. Then he started talking about Baileys and weeing on people and Howard had panicked “Oh God! I’m going to be molested by a fish!”

But then Howard had seen the light. Quite literally in fact, as Old Gregg lifted his pink skirt and revealed his undercarriage. Howard had passed out and woken up in an underwater cave: Gregg’s Place. There his fears of a fishy molestation had grown. Old Gregg was clingy in a desperate kind of way and Howard’s first instinct, after his fear-fogged and disorientated mind had cleared, was that it was some kind of joke. Surely no one could want Howard like that?

Sure, Howard wasn’t covered in scales and he didn’t have one strange webbed hand and his hair wasn’t made of seaweed and constantly dripping with saltwater, but he didn’t think there was much to love about him either. He certainly wasn’t dashing and radiant like Vince, nor did he have any sort of power, like Dixon Bainbridge. In his opinion, Howard didn’t really have anything going for him, certainly nothing that would charm a prospective mate.

But here was Old Gregg, showering him with gifts. Granted they were crappy water colours and bottles of Baileys but it was the thought that counted… and the fact that Gregg frantically kept asking Howard if he loved him. Then Howard realised that this poor scaly man-fish was just as lonely as he was. Just as unattractive as he was. Just as pathetic as he was.

“What the hell,” Howard thought, “It’s not as if I’m gonna get any action anywhere else”

And so he kissed Old Gregg; a desperate, out-of-practice kiss, but still… a kiss.

Howard briefly thought about Vince, his mouth still moving mechanically against Old Gregg’s. Amazing, beautiful Vince with his come-hither smile. He could stop Howard in his tracks with a simple glance and a suggestive sway of Vince’s hips, could leave him panting. Howard was fairly sure he loved Vince, but he wasn’t naïve enough to believe that anything would transpire between them. After all, how could someone like Vince love someone like Howard?

Howard clutched at Old Gregg’s shoulders and his tongue explored Old Gregg’s mouth as he deepened the kiss. Old Gregg’s saliva tasted of seawater and Baileys. Old Gregg slipped his hands down Howard’s back and settled on his bum. He gently squeezed at the rounded flesh and Howard sighed into his mouth.

Encouraged by Howard’s response, Old Gregg slid his hands up to Howard’s chest and quickly unbuttoned his visually noisy shirt. Howard broke the kiss and moved his mouth to Old Gregg’s neck. The green skin beneath his lips tasted salty and clammy, yet surprisingly warm. A webbed hand gently tweaked Howard’s left nipple as moaned again and continued to ravish Old Gregg’s neck.

Howard moved his lips back up to the merman’s mouth, placing kisses along his jaw as he went. He gently tugged and nibbled at Old Gregg’s bottom lip, performing a more skilled kiss than the previous one.

Slowly, Old Gregg pulled away from the kiss and gazed into Howard’s warm, brown eyes.

“Do you love me?” Old Gregg asked in a low, lusty voice that reminded Howard, strangely enough, of a whale.

Howard peered back at Old Gregg. His eyes were blue. Ocean blue. Just like Vince’s.

“Yes” Howard hissed, and although he didn’t love Old Gregg, for a moment as he looked into the eyes that were so much like Vince’s, he felt it was true. Maybe he could love Old Gregg…

Grinning broadly, Old Gregg led Howard into his bedroom. Like the rest of the cave, it was dark and damp. The rocky walls were decorated with odd watercolours, the colours dull and washed out. In the middle of the room there was a dank, makeshift bed of seaweed.

Old Gregg quickly removed Howard’s remaining clothes, the admission of love spurring him on. Howard moved to take off Old Gregg’s attire, hastily discarding the silver jacket and black shirt underneath, revealing a lean, green and scaly chest. Running his hand lightly down Old Gregg’s torso, he found the skin slightly slimy to the touch.

Moving his hand down to the waistband of Old Gregg’s tutu, Howard hesitated. What would he see once this barrier was removed? Would there be a blinding light like before? And if so, how were you supposed to fuck someone when you couldn’t see where you were sticking things?

“It’s ok Howard,” Old Gregg whispered, seemingly reading Howard’s mind, “Old Gregg can turn off the light when he wants. And Old Gregg wants you, Howard.”

Howard took a breath and slowly pushed the pink tutu down, uncovering scaly thighs. It seemed Old Gregg could control the light from his mangina. Both completely naked, Old Gregg pulled Howard onto the bed. They lay down side by side in the gelatinous seaweed. Old Gregg ran his unwebbed hand through Howard’s hair.

“Your hair’s so smooth and silky, Howard. It feel’s so great beneath Old Gregg’s hand.”

Pulling Old Gregg close into a deep kiss, Howard teased his dark green nipples. As he buried a hand in Old Gregg’s hair and his fingers felt wet and gooey. Quickly removing his hand he trailed it down Old Gregg’s stomach. Old Gregg’s chest and belly were hairless and Howard was grateful that his body hair didn’t take after his head hair. He didn’t think he could cope if Old Gregg had been covered in seaweed or worse yet, barnacles.

Howard gently rolled on top of the merman and placed kisses all down his chest and stomach towards his genitals. As he neared Old Gregg’s crotch, he braced himself, not sure exactly what he would see when he looked between…

Taking a steeling breath, Howard allowed his eyes to drift down. Standing proud and erect was Old Gregg’s penis, green like the rest of his body. Howard noted that it was a little shorter than average, although he didn’t have much experience to compare it too. It was shorter than Howard’s at least.

“Right,” thought Howard, “A penis, familiar territory. I can deal with that.”

Sitting back on his haunches between Old Gregg’s legs, Howard rested his hands on Old Gregg’s thighs, allowing his gaze to stray further down. Beneath Old Gregg’s penis hung two dark green testicles. Still Howard’s eyes travelled lower and where Old Gregg’s perineum should have been there was a slit. A very vaginal looking slit.

Howard gulped. This is where things started going a bit foreign. He’d never been with a woman before. It didn’t matter that this vagina was attached to a man, it still frightened him.

He was shaken from his thoughts by a particularly loud moan from the form beneath him. Howard hadn’t realised that he had been slowly massaging Old Gregg’s thighs. He slid one hand up Old Gregg’s thigh to his groin. Slowly but firmly he stroked the bottle-green shaft and smiled at the affect the sensation seemed to have on Old Gregg. He continued his ministrations for a few minutes and then moved his hand down to fondle Old Gregg’s balls.

“Please, Howard” Old Gregg groaned, “I got a mangina”

Grunting, Howard released Old Gregg’s testicles and tentatively slid his fingers over the merman’s vagina. Old Gregg shuddered, which Howard assumed was a good thing. Gradually, he slid a digit into the hole.

“Moist,” he thought, “That’s convenient.”

“Old Gregg needs your man-love, Howard,” Old Gregg urged.

Howard removed his finger from Old Gregg’s vagina and leaned over him, putting an arm on either side of the scaly chest, bracing himself. Slowly and carefully Howard eased his erect penis into Old Gregg’s magina. Once fully seated he stopped, trying to regain his control. This was a completely new experience for Howard and he was finding it a little difficult to maintain a hold on himself encased in the warm wetness of a mangina.

He started sliding in and out in a leisurely rhythm. The sea transsexual panted and moaned beneath him, every nerve ending in his body pleasantly tingling. Grunting as he sped up the pace, Howard thrust harder into Old Gregg.

Close to orgasm and remembering that Old Gregg had a penis too, Howard moved a hand between them and started to pump Old Gregg. With a final thrust, Howard climaxed, a groan escaping his lips. Old Gregg came soon after with a shout of “I’m Old Gregg!” coating both their bellies in his milky fluid.

After a short nap, when both Howard and Old Gregg had recovered from their coupling, Old Gregg slid from the bed and skipped off to make dinner. Howard remained in bed a little longer, wishing he could bathe in post orgasmic bliss forever.

“Howard,” came Old Gregg’s voice, “Old Gregg’s made a delicious treat for you, my fuzzy little man peach.”

Sighing, Howard got up from the seaweed, dressed and walked back into the main part of the cave. He joined Old Gregg at the dinner table eyed the food warily. On the plate before him was a raw fish, not sushi, which would have been pleasant, but a whole raw fish, eyeballs and all. There was also, of course, a fresh glass of Baileys waiting for him.

During the dinner, Old Gregg asked Howard to marry him, in exchange for The Funk. After an explanation, in which Old Gregg pulled out a few watercolours he’d painted of the story, Howard agreed to his proposal. Hell, he wasn’t getting any younger and at least this way he was guaranteed sex. Even if it was sex with a man who had a vagina and whose skin was slimy and scaly.

Old Gregg bounded off to find a wedding dress, leaving Howard alone at the table with the Funk. Howard wondered if getting married was really the right thing to do. Did he really want to be with Old Gregg for the rest of his life? What about Vince?

As if summoned by his name, a periscope, followed by a submarine slowly emerged from a body of water in the cave floor. The hatch of the submarine opened and out popped Vince. He looked angelic surrounded by mist that was not unlike the mist that had surrounded Old Gregg when he had appeared.

Vince beckoned Howard, “Come on!” Howard immediately leapt up from the table. He didn’t have any choice but to obey. He was Vince, the ever-sexy, ever-lovely, ever-irresistible Vince. Howard grabbed The Funk and without a second thought for the sea transsexual, he fled Old Gregg’s cave. Vince had come to rescue him and that was all that mattered. Maybe Vince did love Howard exactly as Howard loved Vince…

Once in the submarine, Howard flung himself into Vince’s arms, his inhibitions lowered after his near marriage experience. He clung to Vince desperately and took a deep breath, inhaling his scent. He smelled so clean and pure, so unfishy. He smelled of Vince.

Hairspray, sweet cologne and sunshine.

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