Have you ever heard of avisodomy?
Avisodomy is the act of having sex with a bird. This is a fantasy that I’ve harboured for as long as I can remember, and it forms the foundation of my sexuality. All bird species turn me on, but I have a special proclivity for hens and swans which I find have a majestic, feminine beauty to them.
Looking back, this budding passion clearly motivated a few of my pre-sexual experiences. As a small boy let loose on my grandfather’s farm (I grew up in a city in the south of England, but my grandparents owned a farm up north), when no one was around, I’d slip into the chicken pen and snare a poor bird in my grip. Then, using one hand, I’d spread the feathers of it’s behind until I found it’s cloacal opening. Beyond the comprehension of my undeveloped mind, I derived a supreme pleasure from massaging the hole with my index finger and slowly pushing it inside.
For those who don’t know, birds don’t have a separate sexual organ and anus, instead they have a cloaca, which is basically a universal hole for shitting, fucking, and laying eggs.
Another early memory I have is helping my parents to stuff the turkey at Christmas time. I certainly couldn’t explain why at the time, but I found it extremely pleasurable to slide my little, oiled fist in and out the bird’s sagging backside.
I learned from a fairly young age that this wasn’t normal, and it coloured my early encounters with women. I couldn’t bring myself to tell them about my desires, so instead, I conspired to have them do special favours for me on some false pretext or other.
I remember one girl looked at me incredulously when, fucking her doggy style, I asked her to reach between her legs with a feather duster and tickle my balls. I told her I just liked the sensation, but in my head, I was imagining fucking a swan up the ass.
When I was really horny, my desires would shine through more. My favourite position was for a girl to bounce on my dick in the reverse cowgirl position, and as I slapped her ass, I’d have her flap her arms and squawk like a cormorant.
I think back to these early encounters with some embarrassment now. It took me a long time to come to terms with my desires and even longer to tell my partners. But, I’m 32 years old now, and I’ve been with a wonderful woman called Celia for seven years. She, of course, knows all about my avian predilections and (I love her for this) accepts me for who I am.
Celia has always been good at trying to satisfy my fantasies when we have sex. However, it’s always bothered her that I would probably never be fully satisfied when having sex with her as she isn’t a bird. In an attempt to overcome this little obstacle, last year, she suggested something quite unexpected that took my breath away.
She volunteered to undergo some fairly major body modification.
That’s how it happened, that in the summer of 2019, we travelled to South Korea so she could undergo surgery. We had to travel to South Korea, as it’s one of the few countries that has a developed (and relatively cheap) industry for cosmetic surgery. But, I’m not complaining – we spent a lovely vacation in Seoul that summer.
Now, the modification was quite invasive and had to be carried out over a series of four surgeries. The first two (and I’m still shocked that she agreed to this) involved a surgical intervention to fuse the bones of the upper wrist and hands to form a bird-like carpometacarpus. The fingers were also fused together, although the thumb remained free so that it resembled the alula of a bird’s wing which projects outward and helps the bird to navigate while flying.
The third surgery involved shortening the triceps brachii (the muscles on the backside of the upper arm), essentially pulling the arms up and back when in a resting position to make them resemble the bent formation of a wing.
The final surgery was the most invasive and risky requiring extensive reconstructive surgery. It involved severing the perineum (the skin between the vagina and anus) and fusing the two holes to form a single orifice or cloaca.
I’m only telling you all of this to set the scene for the main experience I’m here to tell you about – the first sexual encounter we had after the surgery. We couldn’t have sex immediately since we had to wait for the newly sutured orifice to heal over. But, in the meantime, I got to work preparing. I wanted our first encounter to be perfect, so I pulled out all the stops.
I needed Celia to be dressed for the occasion, and a chicken costume wasn’t going to cut it for me. So, I got creative and procured a few special items. It took me a while to source a high-quality, sexy chicken mask, but I did eventually find one on Etsy – it fit just over the eyes and nose like a Venetian mask. I also got hold of a sack of goose feathers (OK, it was a feather pillow that I cut open with a pair of scissors).
When the long-awaited day finally arrived, I had Celia strip off in our bathroom. I watched her undress but I stopped her when she got to her panties as I wanted to peel them off myself. I remember being extremely aroused by her delicate aroma and the sight of her flawless, porcelain cheeks.
Once she was fully naked, I proceeded to smear her body with sugar syrup using a paintbrush. I began with her arms and torso and finished with her rump, thighs, and pubic mound. And, once I was satisfied, I grabbed hand-fulls of feathers from the pillowcase and smattered them over her body. By the time I’d finished, there were so many stray feathers on the floor and in the bathtub, it looked like snow had somehow fallen in our bathroom. As you can imagine, there was a great deal of laughter during all this since we were both aware of the absurdity of what we were doing.
Later in the bedroom, though, I wasn’t laughing. I was literally shaking with nervous excitement. I was breath-taken by Celia’s transformation. All feathered up, she really did look the part. Her bare legs resembled enormous chicken feet emanating from a feathery torso. Needless to say, my dick was as straight as a measuring stick. I could have ploughed into my darling there and then, but I wanted to savour the foreplay.
I held her hips and we kissed deeply and slowly. Then she moved backwards and sat provocatively onto the bed. Falling onto her back she lifted her legs into the air and stretched them as far apart as they would go. And, with two hands, she gently tore apart her labia, revealing a single, cyclopean hole framed with downy, white feathers. This was the first time I’d really had a good look at her new orifice. It was smaller than I expected and was tight and round as an eye socket. It stared at me with the hungry gaze of desire.
On a bedside table, I had already laid out a dozen eggs on a pretty, painted dish – 8 were boiled, and the rest I had cracked and whisked into a little bowl. I began, one by one, to soak each boiled egg in the raw goop and slide them into my honey’s gaping cloaca. In my overwhelming glee, I felt just like my childhood self again, stuffing the Christmas turkey. One, then two, then four, then all eight eggs disappeared like a magic trick into the tight cavity.
Once she was fully laden, I clambered onto the bed myself and got on my back. Celia positioned herself on top of me, her hot sex resting on my abdomen, and my rigid cock clasped between her buttcheeks. She rubbed her clit on me for a while like this, effectively wanking me off with her butt. I just laid there and enjoyed the massage for a while until I was in such a state of heightened arousal I just blurted out ‘Lay on me! Lay on me, please!’
With that signal, Celia raised her pelvis and squeezed her pelvic floor muscles. The first egg stretched its white pate from her glorious hole, and with a satisfying queef, plopped onto my belly button in a jacket of raw egg and mucus. The next five eggs followed in a succession of plops and farts, soiling my stomach with a viscous jelly. I couldn’t contain my pleasure. I wriggled down on the bed until Celia’s cloaca was above my face. The next egg bounced off my cheek, but the final egg landed directly into my mouth whereupon I lolled it around like a gobstopper before regurgitating it onto a pillow.
By this point, Celia had grabbed my rigid cock and was pleasuring herself by rubbing the head up and down her clit. Before long, though, she impatiently punctured herself and swallowed my entire length in a single gulp. Forgetting me, she began desperately to bounce up and down for a while, getting herself off. I love to see Celia enjoying herself. When she started to get a little tired, I helped her out by grabbing her thighs and rhythmically thrusting up from below. In a fit of ecstasy, Celia began flapping her transfigured wing-arms and squawking in high-pitched bursts.
And then, without warning, she climbed off me, buried her face in a pillow, and pointed her ass directly at me. This was all the invitation I needed. I tore her feathered ass apart with my hands and buried my tongue in her now sopping fissure. After I had sufficiently tongue-fucked her, I grabbed her ass in both hands and plunged my throbbing cock into the gaping maw. I was so delirious with pleasure that my vision was spotty and my heart was racing. I just kept pumping into the swampy mess, in and out, until I’d slapped all the feathers off her fluffy butt. Finally, I pulled out and fired off ribbons of hot semen over her back and ass, soaking the feathers so that they clung in moist clumps. And, then I collapsed on my back in exhaustion.
That’s it! That’s the story of the best sex of my life. It truly did scratch an itch. I don’t expect everyone to understand my desires, but I do hope that this story has inspired in you a renewed appreciation for the diversity of human sexuality.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/igg9v9/i_finally_satisfied_my_longstanding_bird_fetish