Futanari Roommate
Gwendalyn stumbled in, the scent of cheap tequila and something vaguely floral clinging to her like a second skin. Her usual meticulously applied makeup was smudged, her dark hair slightly disheveled, and her cheeks flushed a vibrant crimson. “Rough night?” I asked Gwendalyn swayed slightly, clutching her purse like a life raft. “You could say that” she mumbled. “Can we…can we talk?” Sure, I said. Gwendalyn blurts out "I'm in love with you, even if my body is different"