The next morning.

I wake slowly; my dream lingers for a minute as I become aware. My dreams have not yet adjusted and caught up with my new reality. In my dreams, I am still wearing my untransformed masculine body. Even in sleep, the constant sexual arousal of the late-stage second puberty lingers; my recent dreams are invariably erotic in nature and content. This dream was disjointed and followed no real narrative, a montage of me fucking. In some segments my partner Michelle was recognisable, in others I was fucking girlfriends from my past or celebrities, and sometimes the women were simply conjured from my imagination. In all cases I was strong, dominant and manly, stronger and more masculine and dominant than I had ever been in reality. The women were all submissive and enthusiastic, vocal in their appreciation as I fucked them with endless stamina and strength, crying out ecstatically as they orgasmed almost continuously.

I shifted my body, stretching as I awoke with the erotic after-images of the wet dream still playing in my mind. I felt Michelle's body pressed tightly behind me as I was curled in a loosely foetal position on my side. One of Michelle's arms was over my hip, and as I stretched I felt her fingers move, lightly stroking my stomach. As my wits returned, I became aware of a dampness on my inner thigh. During stage three of second puberty, this had been usual; my vanishing cock had dribbled milky precum every night, but this had ceased as I entered the final stage of the change. I slid a hand down to my thigh to investigate. My fingertips touched the wetness on my thigh; the small dribble of liquid was slick and had the consistency of egg white.

My fingers began to tremble, and I felt my heart begin to race as my fingertips traced the thin dribble of slick moisture up my thigh to the crease of my labia. There could be no doubt that the discharge had originated here. Hardly daring to breathe, I experimentally pressed a fingertip against the crease. I felt my outer labia part from the pressure of my fingertip, and I let out a squeak of surprise and shock as I realised that during the night the ultimate change had occurred. The previously sealed crease of my reforming genitalia had opened.

Michelle, already rousing from my movement in her embrace, began to stir in response to my squeal. She tightened her arm around my waist, and I felt the comforting contact of her body against mine shift. Soft lips brushed my neck and shoulder as my lover kissed me. I withdrew the fingertip from my pussy lips and placed my hand over hers as it caressed my belly. Gently, I moved her hand downwards towards my newly opened vulva.

"What's up, babe?" Michelle asked sleepily as she felt the tenseness and trembling of my body.

"It happened, Mickey," I whispered hoarsely, a mixture of excitement and fear. "I...I...am complete. The change is complete."