Smurfette... Or Not

Smurfette... Or Not
by AladdinAbu
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Another stormy, restless night. Papa Smurf swirled his smurfter, looking down at the drops of Smurfaretto left in the bottom, then took a long pull. He wasn't an alcoholic - not exactly. He never drank before bedtime and he never had more than two glasses. Maybe three on an especially hard day of being terrorized by Gargamel, or dealing with some other in-town crisis. Still, was it a crime for him to enjoy a little liquid refreshment after a long day of being the default leader of his small blue people? The only real guilt he felt was that he never shared this recipe for the fermented smurfberry concoction with the other smurfs, but he had his reasons; what if, for example, Clumsy Smurf got a bellyfull of Smurfaretto in him? That was just asking for trouble. And there would be positively no living with an inebriated Jokey! No, best to keep the good stuff to himself for now.

He'd never really asked for or been elected to the position of Village Elder. Just a curse of being old. He had the wisdom of years to see where his fellows were going astray. Also, he was more or less the only one with a good grasp of magic, and it only followed that he should be the in charge if he was the only one who really understood its consequences. If somebody like Greedy Smurf was the leader, he would be constantly ordering Papa to use his spellbooks to create more and more sweets. Mostly he trusted the others, and would like nothing more than to relinquish leadership to someone he deemed ready for the mantle... but since nobody came to mind, he guessed he'd simply stay leader for now.

He hit the bottom of his smurfter and sighed. That was it. If he had another one tonight, he'd only have enough left from that batch for a few more glasses before the next batch had finished maturing. He'd rather have the option of a wee nip later than indulge himself in the moment; besides, there was already enough in his system to give him a pleasantly warm feeling. Shrugging, he crossed to the kitchen and topped his glass off with regular smurfberry juice. Not quite time to tuck himself away for the rest of the night yet; maybe he would crack open that journal he'd been meaning to start...

"Oops! Forgot to put the Smurfaretto away." He had just set his glass down between the bottle and one of his spellbooks when he heard a sudden knock at the door. "Eh?"

"PAPA! PAPA SMURF!"

"One second!" He put the bottle back down and skipped over to the door. "What, what is it, what's happening? Is it Gargamel again?!"

"No, it's rain!" Smurfette squeaked as she pelted inside, high heels leaving tiny puddles on the floor of his mushroom hut behind her. "I d-didn't want to be rude and just come in uninvited, but it's coming down in buckets out there!"

"Whew!" Papa Smurf sighed as he slammed the door shut and leaned back against it, waiting for his heart to stop racing. Anytime one of the smurfs came pounding on his door in the middle of the night, his adrenaline pretty much reached fever pitch before he even knew what the problem was (because it was usually something quite bad). "Thank goodness that's all it is!"

Smurfette laughed, trying to push her soggy blond locks out of her eyes. "I'm really sorry I scared you, I didn't mean to! Just didn't want to catch the sniffles!"

Papa started to say something relating to that topic, but he fell silent when he noticed just how damp Smurfette's dress was. Especially around the chest area. What was he doing, looking at her like that? Come to think of it, he'd never looked at ANYBODY like that. Most of the smurfs he knew spent most of their time bare-chested anyway, so why should this make a bit of difference to him now?

It was at that moment, while he was still staring at the two tiny bumps only visible due to wet fabric, that Papa recalled an ancient legend. Once upon a time, hundreds of years ago, it had been possible for smurfs to procreate like humans continue to do. True, they seldom bothered, but once in a while it happened anyway. It was common knowledge that female smurfs were an anomoly that rarely occured, ESPECIALLY within naturally-occuring smurfs. However, the occasional female smurf was more likely to give birth to more females if she made the decision to become a smurf-queen. Unfortunatley, Nanny Smurf had been the last female to procreate naturally. He himself, Papa, was the byproduct of that decision... and for reasons he'd never understood, she had chosen never to do so again, thereby all but ensuring that there would be no more female smurfs. That is, until their archenemy had created one from blue clay.

"Helloooo?" Smurfette's long eyelashes fluttered as she waited for him to say something. "What's wrong, Papa? You're... looking at me funny."

He shook his head out. It was because of her female persuasion. Yes, he understood that these were the unwelcome, foreign sensations that the other smurfs had been suffering with ever since Smurfette first blew into town. It wasn't insurmountable. It was easily surmountable, in fact; he had gone this long without ever thinking about Smurfette as anything besides yet another of his citizens that he felt obligated to watch over. What was the difference now? None, that's what.

"Papa? Hey, snap out of it!"

"Sorry!" he said with a smile, clearing his throat. "Goodness, you're soaking wet - here, let me get you a towel. I'm afraid I don't have a spare dress for you on hand."

"Well, yeah!" she giggled. "I'd be a little surprised if you did!"

As he chuckled and walked into the bathroom, he called over his shoulder, "So, what brings you out this way so late at night? You never did say."

"Oh, I just wanted to talk about the Smurferation Day picnic next week! I'm super excited!" A brief pause. "Ooh, hey, can I get some juice?"

"Go right ahead," Papa said as he walked back through the room. "Sorry, there aren't any clean towels in there - let me get one from the closet!"

"Thanks, and thanks!" Another pause. "I've been thinking about baking a smurfberry pie for the picnic, but my recipe always turns out TOO sweet. How do you, um... un-sweet a pie?"

Papa chuckled as he moved aside a stack of bed linens, then a bunch of old spellbooks. He almost never had a use for the other three towels he owned because he lived alone, and therefore the two he used alternately while the other was being washed usually sufficed. "Try some rhubarb - gives it a little tartness. Or you could always leave out the honey. How much honey are you using?"

"Um... a lot?"

"Right." He returned to the living room and handed her the towel; she set her glass next to his on the table so she could take it with both hands. "And how much sugar in the crust?"

"Too much, probably," she sighed as she patted down her face, then moved on to her dress. "I can't seem to stop overdoing it on the sugar. Chef Smurf is always telling me the only thing I can make right is candy!"

Nodding, he tried not to pay too much attention as she pushed the towel up and under the hem of her skirt briefly. REALLY, now, why was his brain insisting on running away with itself tonight? "Mm-hmm, mm-hmm. Sometimes a little savory is better, a little bitterness. Balance is what Chef is trying to teach you."

"Maybe I should use some of that smurfberry juice of yours, then." She kicked off her high heels and started drying her feet off, then stood on the towel and wriggled her delicate little toes against it to get in between them. "It's plenty bitter! Maybe it went bad or something?"

As she moved the towel back up to her underarms, Papa felt his brow furrowing. "Bitter? But smurfberry juice isn't... wait. Where precisely did you GET the juice?"

"From right there," she said, pointing at the bottle on the table. "I saw you were having some already, so I figured you wouldn't mind if I got my own glass and had just a teensy bi-"

"How much did you have?" he interrupted, feeling a swell of dread.

"Just one glass!" she piped, eyes wide and curious. "Why, what's the matter?"

Papa gazed at the empty glass - a regular size juice glass. Granted, it wasn't terribly big, but he could see a few drips of residue clinging to the inside of it that went almost all the way to the top. She'd guzzled down at least half of what Smurfaretto was left. Two things occured to him in rapid succession: first, that he was probably going to run out of Smurfaretto long before he was ready to; and second, that within the next ten to twenty minutes, he would have one extremely sloshed Smurfette on his hands.

"Well..." How could he explain this? He tugged at his beard as he watched her turn her heels upside-down and pour the water onto the towel. "You see, Smurfette, that was a very... special kind of smurfberry juice. It's only for smurfs over the age of, oh..." What would sound important enough to drive the point home? "Five hundred."

"Oh... and you're five hundred and thirty... what was it again?"

He frowned. "Nevermind that! The important thing is, you really shouldn't have drank it, because it's not for little smurfs. Understand?"

She was wringing out her smurf-cap, but paused in mid-movement. Her large, round eyes grew wide with remorse and fear. "Yes, sir. Oh no, I did something really bad, didn't I? I- I'm sorry!"

"No, no, don't apologize," he said, waving aside her apology with one hand while still stroking his beard with the other. "There was no way you could have known any better; the bottle WAS on my table, and it has no label. But it is very important that you realize that you are about to start feeling... well, let's say a little off. I don't want you to be alarmed; you're safe as long as I'm here to watch out for you. Still, when it happens you're going to realize why it's not such a good idea for younger smurfs to drink the special smurfberry juice."

God's honest truth was, it wasn't such a good idea for ANYBODY to drink the special smurfberry juice; Papa had just built up a resistence to its effects over the years. The first time he'd tried it - hoo boy, had that been a ridiculous afternoon! Needess to say, though, this story would have done Smurfette no good, so he kept it to himself for the moment.

"I'm really sorry," she repeated in a meek voice, still wringing her hat out but without realizing she was still doing it. "If... if it's so dangerous, then why do you drink it?"

That was a fair question. "Let's just say that it helps me relax after a long day of problem-solving. On the other hand, drinking too much will make a smurf relax too much. Which is to say... you start to act silly."

Smurfette nodded, cheeks turning more and more red. "Did I have too much? Wait - I did, didn't I? Because you said younger smurfs aren't supposed to have any at all! Oh no, wh- what's going to happen to me? Will I-" She gulped. "I won't be dangerous, will I?"

"Easy, easy," he soothed as he took the hat from her hands before she shredded it into scraps. Then he picked up her shoes and walked over toward the fireplace. "Let's put these over here to dry. You're not going anywhere tonight; you have to stay right here where I can keep an eye on you, okay?"

"Okay," she said sheepishly. "H-how long?"

"Oh, you'll probably be fine by morning. Don't worry so much."

She nodded, staring down at the floor. Then she stepped onto the towel and began shuffling around, not picking up her feet so as to mop up the water she'd shed upon her entry. "Sorry for the mess, I- I'll clean it up, d-don't you worry about it!"

"There's no mess," he laughed. "A little water never hurt anything. Come, relax by the fire and dry yourself out."

As she finished mopping the floor, he moved one of his wicker chairs to the edge of the hearth, and then he steered her to it and plopped her down. She made a tiny squeak when her bottom hit the seat. "There. Now I want you to stay right there while I get you some water."

"Oh, I think I've had enough water for one evening!"

"It's for your stomach; it will dilute the effects of the..." Right; smurf brains were best told things in the least complicated manner. "It'll make you act less silly."

By the time he came back, having rinsed and filled her glass from earlier with the less-worrisome liquid, he saw Smurfette was shivering and rubbing her hands together. He sighed. "There's no use, is there? You'll have to get out of that dress or you'll wind up sick. I'm just sorry that I don't have anything for you to wear."

"N-no, I don't have to g-get out of it," she assured him, her teeth chattering. "The f-fire will dry m-me out in a l-little bit!"

Oh, how Papa wished that were true... but he knew it was wishful thinking and nothing more. "I'm afraid it will take too long, and it will leave you feeling clammy and horrible in the meantime. You'll catch those sniffles you were worried about earlier! Hang on, I'll get you a blanket."

When he returned with a quilt that Nanny Smurf had given him, Smurfette looked even more nervous and crimson-faced. "Papa Smurf, I- well, I f-feel funny about doing this here! I mean, I can't help it; you're a b-boy, and I'm a girl, and w-we sh-shouldn't-"

"Tut tut," he said, shaking his finger at her. "Don't think of it like that. I'm merely trying to keep you from becoming ill from the rain. Foolish girl, you shouldn't have come out here in the storm to begin with!"

At that, she frowned defensively. "It w-wasn't raining th-that hard when I left..."

Then she started to nervously slide one strap of her dress down her arm, biting her lower lip and refusing to look him in the eye. For one brief moment, Papa's heart was pounding into his throat; he was distinctly excited for what may come next. Why? He had already established that this was only a foolish visceral reaction that he would master - he WOULD! Then he cleared his throat and placed his hand on hers. "You can change in the bathroom, you know."

"Oh!" she squealed, then laughed nervously. "I... I can't believe I d-didn't... I'm so sorry, I just- just didn't think, I don't know why..."

Papa knew why. It was already starting. She probably would have thought of it on her own if her mind wasn't being addled by the effects of the alcohol. So soon? Instead of beleaguering the point further, he simply told her everything was fine and pointed her toward the bathroom. Face growing more purple by the moment, she obeyed.

While she changed, he felt himself sweating with anxiety. He was about to have the only young, virile female smurf in all of existence inhabiting a state of some undress within his mushroom hut - and drunk besides. This was probably something the other smurfs dreamed about nightly. Why did it disturb him this way? She was only a fellow blue person. Yes, that's what he would keep telling himself over and over; she was only a fellow smurf. Only a fellow...

His thoughts deserted him when he saw her exit the bathroom, clutching the quilt to her chest with one hand and holding the dress at arm's length with the other. Her shy smile told her she felt slightly less ill-at-ease with the situation than she did before, but not by much. "O-okay, I changed. What should I do with this?"

"Hang it over the mantle to drip dry. Here, allow me." He took it from her to ensure she would not lose the quilt while hanging up the dress, then gestured to the chair. Nodding, she adjusted her makeshift robe so it would drape more or less over herself without her having to hold it in place and took a seat while he arranged her sodden garments. "There. Now, isn't that much better?"

"It is," she admitted. "But I still feel awful strange about this. I'd probably be less nervous if I wasn't the only one naked!"

"Yes, of course y-" Papa blinked, then forced himself to laugh. What he really wanted to do was gasp, but he figured it was kinder not to let on that Smurfette had said something so brash. "Indeed! W-well, I suppose we all have our crosses to bear!"

"What?" she asked curiously. "What kind of bear is that?"

Papa had already hung the dress, but felt his face go brick red when he realized a garment was still in his hand; a pair of white panties, soft and lovely against his hand. Clearing his throat much louder than he meant to, he hung them up and spun on his heel. "Anyway, um, as long as you're comfortable here I'll just-"

"Oh, don't go!" Her hand shot out and grasped him. "I'm gonna feel silly sitting around here all by myself!"

"I wasn't going far," he assured her. "Just over here to my chair."

Her lips pouted. "But I won't be able to see you! Can't you pull your chair up to the fire, too?"

Sighing, Papa did just that. Actually, he got another wicker chair as it was easier to move, then busied himself making two cups of hot sarsparilla tea. By the time he returned with them, he smiled warmly to see Smurfette's head was drooping slightly.

"Time for bed?"

"No," she snuffled, perking back up. "No, I'm sorry, I just... well, I know it's close to my usual bedtime, but I usually don't... don't feel this funny, and sleepy."

He nodded wisely. "This might warm up your belly enough that you drop off nice and easy."

Smurfette regarded the mug for a few seconds, then nodded and took a long sip. Then she smiled widely. "Ahh... oh, that feels nice in my tummy!"

"I'm glad," he chuckled.

They sat in a semi-comfortable silence for a while, sipping and staring into the roaring fire. Papa decided that he would probably like to do this kind of thing a little more often, though he wasn't sure whether he necessarily wanted to do it with Smurfette or not. Was it merely enjoying someone's company, or was it all about her? Interesting... he'd have to invite another friend from the village in for a little tea one evening and test this out sometime.

"Ooh, it's so warm on my lap!"

He nearly gagged on his tea, staring wide-eyed at how she was resting the cup between her thighs. Was she crazy? Then again, she was probably so chilly that the warmth was a welcome respite. "Is it? Good, good, that's good."

"It's making me feel so tingly all over," she giggled. Her cup teetered dangerously as she stretched out her arms, making a luxurious moan as she did so, then fluffed out her slowly-drying hair. Then she reclaimed her cup and took another sip, wiggling her toes in the direction of the fire as she leaned back a tiny bit.

"So," Papa said, desperate for a subject change now, "I've been thinking about the picnic myself. The, uh, human sock race always ends in disaster, so perhaps we shouldn't do it this year. What do you think?" No answer. "Smurfette?"

"Hmnh?!" she half-gasped, starting suddenly and looking at him with wide eyes. "Oh, I... sorry, wh-what am I doing here again?"

Smiling, he stood and took the mug of tea from her, setting it on the table. However, when he turned back to look again, he was shocked to see that her quilt had slid down slightly. Had it slipped to a lesser degree, it might not have been anything worth noting, but as it were...

He could see one of her nipples.

At first, Papa wasn't sure of what he was looking at. Smurf males didn't have nipples. In fact, he'd only seen a smurf female in the nude in one of his old anatomy tomes - so long ago that the details were now hazy. No, he was far more familiar with human anatomy; he had studied it at great length in an attempt to figure out the driving force behind Gargamel's madness. This proved completely useless so far as the archvillain was concerned, but it did provide him with the mostly-useless knowledge that nipples were not only a means of nutrition for small children, but also an object of desire in human culture.

And Smurfette's tiny protrusion was quite desirable. Perhaps it was only because he'd never seen one in person before, or perhaps it was because of the Smurfaretto, but he found himself gazing at it intently, his heart racing as he contemplated its rigid and alert surface, its roundness and violet hue, the smooth, slight hill beneath it...

He shook his head out, clearing it. Though he noticed it was getting more and more impossible to clear his head in this fashion. Or any fashion. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the vision before him, which confused his brain again, which caused him to repeat the whole process. But he wasn't going to give in to such animal urges; he reached down and grasped the hem of the quilt.

"What... what are you doing?" she asked sleepily.

He forced a smile as he said, "Just a little wardrobe malfunction, my dear. Don't worry your head."

"Ooh..."

This last "ooh" was a moan, and it was because his knuckle brushed her chest as he attempted to cover her nakendess. He watched her entire body shiver, then she looked up at him dazedly, brow knitting just a little in confusion. Then she looked toward his hand for a moment before seeing how he was gripping the quilt. For a moment, they both watched this as Papa tried to will his hand upward.

"Listen," he began as calmly as he could, "I didn't- see, what I intended t-to-"

"No, I get it," she whispered, though she still seemed a little off-put. "Y-you're trying to tuck me in again, that's all. It's fine."

Yes, she was, and everything was. Or would have been, had he been able to keep his hand moving upward. Instead, he stood exactly where he was for a long moment. It was taking him quite a while to find the strength to do such a simple task. Perhaps this was because, much as he hated to admit it, part of him did not wish for the sight before him to go away.

"What's wrong?" she whispered. "Are... are you okay?"

"Fine," he harumphed, tucking the quilt up and over her shoulder, using her back to hold it in place this time. "Just preoccupied for a moment, that's all."

Smurfette swallowed thickly, she licked her lips. It was obvious that she was in a limbo between being drowsy and being anxious. He was scaring her. He flashed her another reassuring smile, but it didn't seem to do the trick. After another second, she looked away from him and said, "You were looking at me."

"I was," he said, trying to sound as if this were an unremarkable occurance. "I look at you every day."

"Yes, that's true, but... not the way you were a minute ago." Her cheeks were purpling, and she seemed to be getting more and more uncomfortable for some reason. "I... I asked Grumpy once why I wear dresses and why the other smurfs just wear pants, a-and he told me it was because... because girls' chests weren't supposed to be seen by boys."

Papa was sweating - and it wasn't solely because his back was so close to the fireplace. "This is true, it's considered impolite."

"Oh no," she fretted, sounding more and more embarrassed. "And I let you see it - not just any old smurf, but PAPA Smurf! I'm in big trouble now, huh? Oh, I'm so sorry I wasn't- I mean, I d-didn't mean for you to see-"

"Wait, wait," he laughed. "It isn't something you need to be punished for! That is, I suspect the discomfort you're feeling now is punishment enough that I doubt you'll be skipping through the village in your birthday suit anytime soon."

"But I- I let you see my chest." Then she chanced a shy smile. "Though you only saw half of it, so maybe... I'm only half in trouble?"

Then they both laughed. "No trouble, Smurfette. Besides, I'm fairly certain you only showed me because you had some of that special smurfberry juice. If you're not careful about how and when it is consumed, it can lead a smurf to do strange things that they would ordinarily know better than to do!"

"Really? It does?" She swiped her free hand (the one not tucked into her quilt) across her forehead dramatically - although there actually were a few tiny beads of sweat forming there. "Whew! I was beginning to think I was losing my marbles!"

"Nope!"

Still giggling, she went on, "I mean, I even had it in my head that I kind of LIKED you looking at my chest! Isn't that wacky?"

Papa's laugh turned into a hacking cough, but he quickly recovered. "R-right! Yes, see there? Wackiness!"

"I know!" She laughed so hard she snorted a little. "I mean, like you'd ever wanna see that! It's just a couple of little bumps, anyway! Who cares if you see 'em or not?"

"Right, exactly! It is considered impolite, of course, but in the end..." He thought for a moment, then made what was perhaps a rash decision. What he intended to do was continue to minimize the supposed "boo-boo" that the young lady had made to make her feel better. "If we men can run around with bare chests, I shouldn't see why a little peek at yours should bring the whole world to a crashing halt!"

"Yeah! I mean, look!"

And she yanked her quilt down to reveal her chest entire. Papa felt his eyes trying to bulge out of his head... and to his amazement, he felt something else bulging as well. A tightness reached his lower regions that he was completely unfamiliar with. What should he do about it? On the other hand, he didn't even know what "it" might be, so instead of worry about it he focused on pretending that he wasn't at all bothered by what he was seeing.

"Y-yes, I see!" he chortled, smiling so wide his face hurt. "Whoopsie! Not at all a catastrophe, is it?"

Smurfette giggled, face still more purple in the cheeks than usual. Then she bit her lip and covered her chest again, as suddenly ashamed as she had been emboldened. But unlike last time, she was still smiling. As glazed over as her eyes looked, there was a mischievous glint there that he couldn't pretend wasn't. As Papa continued to laugh - both for her benefit, and also at the absurdity of what was taking place - she flashed him again, this time much more quickly. He could only have seen the supple peaks for a fraction of a second, and still his pulse quickened, his head swam. The next time, when she whipped the hem of the quilt downward again, he was ready - he shot out a finger and touched it to the very tip of the first nipple he'd seen. Quick as a grasshopper, he retracted his hand and whistled, pretending he had done nothing.

"OOohh," she bleated, shivering again. "P-Papa, y-you- you touched me again!"

"Did I?" he hedged merrily. "I don't seem to recall doing so."

"I... I don't think I like it when you touch there," she said softly.

All at once, a very hot shame poured into his stomach. "Oh... goodness, I am sorry, Smurfette. I didn't mean to upset you, it just... well, your playful actions were so amusing, and I got carried away, and- well, I suppose there's no acceptable excuse, is there?" He watched her face for a moment, the way she was thinking carefully, then added, "I hope you can forgive me for it."

"Of course," she breathed, "but... but I... well, I still don't KNOW I don't like being touched there. It's really confusing!" She shook her head out, making her hair flutter into her eyes. She reached up to push it away...

And the quilt fell to a heap in her lap, exposing her slight breasts again. This time, neither of them made any move to cover her. Smurfette's face was filling up with redness, turning all of it the color of a grape. Papa felt his own face doing the same. He also felt a distinct tautness in his pants that he could no longer pretend wasn't happening, even though he couldn't quite place its possible significance.

"Touch me again?"

Papa cleared his throat, feeling a tiny panic flaring up. "Now, just you listen here, Smurfette! That's not the sort of-"

"J-just try it," she implored, sitting up a little straighter. "I... I'm scared, but I feel like I'll go crazy if I don't figure out whether ot not I hate that feeling! S-so help me feel it again! I'm sorry to ask for your help, because I'm sure you d-don't want to keep touching my ugly girl-chest, b-but you're the only one here, a-and- and I feel so weird that I can hardly think straight!"

"Okay!" he yelped, then cleared his throat as he attempted to regain composure. "Very well, I... but please, don't be angry with me for doing so. I believe this is going to be a very large mistake, but if you... really must find out, then I suppose it's the least I can do."

She nodded, biting her lip again, still thrusting her naked chest up and toward him. How on earth could she have said it was ugly? To his way of thinking, it was the furthest thing from ugly that there had ever been. As if guided by an invisible force, he extended his fingers and pressed into the sensitive flesh surrounding the peaks themselves. Her eyes closed, and she bit into her lip much harder than before, sucking in rapid breaths through her nose. It was so soft! Of course, it wasn't much more soft than any smurf's body would be, but something about the extra softness in that particular area of that particular smurf excited him further. Then he moved his fingers inward on themselves.

"Oh!" she gasped, mouth dropping open but eyes remaining shut. "Oh, it- ah, AH! It's so strange, I don't know what to do with myself! It feels... it feels naughty, but I want more of it!"

"So do I," Papa breathed. He heard her breath stop, but she said nothing more, only waited for him to continue. Continue he did; he gently massaged them at first, then took one nipple between thumb and forefinger and pulled just the teensiest bit.

"AAHHH!" she shouted, then slapped both hands over her mouth, accidentally slapping his forearms in the process. "Oh, I- what was that? The feeling I got was so strong, I j-just couldn't control what I said, I- oh, I'm so sorry, I-"

"It's alright," he soothed, though he could hear the trembling in his own voice that resulted from his excitement. "You have nothing to apologize for!"

"But I do!" she squeaked, tears leaking down her cheeks. She was crying? Over this? "I... I made you do this dirty thing, Papa Smurf, and I know it isn't right, but I... but I like it! I know I like it, and I wish like smurfing SMURF that I didn't! But I do! It's fantastic!"

"It is?" he heard himself ask distantly, as if listening to someone else's question.

Placing her hands delicately on his wrists, she held his hands against her and said in a fearful, quavering voice, "I've never felt anything like this in all my life! I m-mean, I know I'm not as old as you other smurfs, but still! How am I suppsoed to forget about this? It's got this kind of terrifying beauty to it that I find... I find completely irresistible!"

"So do I," he repeated numbly - and this time, she didn't ignore it.

"Really?" She whimpered slightly, sniffled, then pressed on, "But you're just touching my awful girl-body, you're not getting touched yourself! Why should you b-be enjoying this at all?"

"Listen," he began, moving one hand up to her chin and tilting her face to look more directly at his because he could no longer stand the way she was looking down in shame. "There's nothing awful about your body. As far as your chest goes, it's only impolite to show other smurfs because it's... well, it's supposed to be something only a smurf who's very, VERY special to you can see. Understand?"

"No!" she blubbered. "You're sp- special to me, of course you are, but so is Brainy and Grumpy and Clumsy and all my other friends! And when I think about sh- about showing all of them myself, it sounds... it sounds terrible is how it sounds!"

Papa Smurf shook his head gently, even though he was finding it next to impossible to play the role of father figure in his present state of mind. "They're special friends, yes, but not very, VERY special friends. There's a difference - and I'm not sure you understand it yet, or you're even ready to."

"Then... you're my very, VERY special friend?" she asked meekly.

"I-!" He pulled his hands away. "Of course I'm not! Th-that is- well, I never-!"

"But you're not just looking at me, you're touching me. That makes you my very, VERY special friend now." When he still looked upset, she lowered her voice to a whisper and said, "Unless that's not what you want."

Suddenly, Papa Smurf found that he wanted nothing more than to touch every part of her, to hold her in his arms, to taste her lips. Except maybe the need to save his own people when they were in peril, this was definitely the most powerful urge he'd ever experienced. "What do YOU want, Smurfette?" he asked baldly.

"You." She even surprised herself with the directness of her answer, and she covered her mouth again. "Why... why did I say it that way? I d-don't understand what's happening to me, Papa Smurf, wh- why am I so...?"

He was moving toward her. When their noses were a nose apart, she drew back, fluttering her eyelashes, terror and longing doing their infuriating dance across her features. Her hands moved up and rested on his chest, not pushing outward nor pulling inward. He leaned on them experimentally, and they gave - their noses touched. What would her lips taste like? Why did he CARE what they tasted like?

Smurfette answered the question by darting forward and taking his mouth with her own. The first hesitant try was over almost immediately, but its success meant that the second attempt was quick to follow. Breathing heavily through their noses, the two sampled each other, Papa's hands threading into her shimmering yellow tresses, Smurfette tilting her head to one side, Papa settling down onto her knee as he increased his speed, devouring her, feeling her little pink tongue against his own and noticing himself start when he felt it in the same moment she let out a little squeak inside their mouths.

Then she pushed him back just enough to ask, "What is that?"

"What is what, my dear?"

"I... something hot and... and rigid, it's on my leg... what are you...?"

Papa knew what it was. Not that he knew why it was so "rigid" as she was happy to point out, but he was beyond aware of its identity. He could go into the anatomy that he had learned from his many books, but what point would there be? He would approach the topic the same way he approached it with all the other smurflings. "That... that is my man-part. Do you... know what the man-part is, Smurfette?" A shake of the head. "Well, it is what we smurfs use to create the waste-water. After we finish eating, a time later-"

"Ohhh, THAT part!" she half-laughed, the elation still apparent in her voice despite their shift in topic. "I've heard of that, silly! But it... well, I don't understand why it feels the way it does. It's much... much warmer and pointier than I expected!"

Grimacing, he shifted his weight to his feet and backed away from her. "Quite." Of course, now that he thought back to his human anatomy books, he was all too aware of what was going on inside of his trousers. How was he supposed to know it would feel this way when it happened? How was he to know it even COULD happen to smurfs, not just humans? But when he looked down, sure enough, there was a sizable bulge of an elongated shape where there normally would be only the rounded mass that was a non-aroused man-part. As he watched it, and as he watched Smurfette watching it, it grew yet harder... and the tip of it poked up and over his waistband. Turns out it grew in size when in such a condition as this, much to his mingling horror and curiosity.

"Oh-!" Smurfette's voice caught; she had meant to say more, but could not get the words out. Her hand raised, drifted in his direction, then shot back to clutch into a fist at her throat. "It... it's changing... is it getting bigger? How are you doing that?"

"I'm not!" he protested, then cleared his throat to regain composure. "Not on purpose. No, I... I believe it became this way when I saw your smurf-buds, and when we put our mouths together. It is... it is a reaction from those. Do you understand?"

"Kind of," she said, reaching for it again, almost as if her hand was doing it by itself. This time, she got much closer, then hesitated and looked up at him. "M-may I, please? I... I've never looked at one before."

A part of him very much wanted her to touch him. And he listened to that part; it was beginning to overpower his good sense effortlessly. "G-go on, if you must. But mind yourself that you don't t-take too many liberties, Smurfette."

One of her dainty fingers traced its way along his length through his pants, and he went rigid from head to soles. How excuisite! How utterly wondrous! Even that small touch to it felt that good - how much moreso would anything else? Before he could think further on this, his thoughts were shattered when the tip of her forefinger touched the skin of the tip of his man-part. Much, MUCH moreso - that was the answer.

He was still wondering at that when he felt air upon its surface - she had hooked her fingers over his waistband and was revealing his hardness for both of them to see. He felt a protest well up in his throat, heard a "HNH!" as it strained to get out, but the same something that had told her to look if she must kept him from stopping her now. When the pants were down past the bottom of his part, he saw it fall forward, but it held aloft in the air, sticking straight out like a tree branch.

"Wow, h-how do you get it to do this?" she said in an awed voice.

"Y-you tell me!"

Licking her lips, she leaned forward slightly, gazing intently at it, licking her lips. Then she stopped moving, and inhaled deeply through her nose. "Papa Smurf, it... oh, this smell, it's so amazing!"

"It is?" he asked, puzzled. It didn't smell that good to him - earthy and strong, sure, but not necessarily "good".

Her blond head shook from side to side, almost as if following his train of thought. "Maybe... I c-can't tell, but I think I love how it smells! So rich, so strong, and I feel like it's filling me up inside to smell it! How must it-" Then she drew back again, hands pressing into her eyes. "No, no, what am I thinking? Papa Smurf, I think you were right about that special smurfberry juice! I don't know WHAT I'm thinking!"

He placed a hand on her shoulder - partly to steady himself, partly to reassure her, and partly to enjoy the sensation of her skin underneath his. "What is it, my dear? Go on, there's no reason to be ashamed."

Many seconds passed. She would peek through his fingers at his hardness, and every time she did he felt it throb anew. In the end, she whispered, "Can I... oh, but you're going to think I'm so disgusting for asking!"

"Will I? How can either of us know if you don't ask?"

"Can I... taste it?" Tears leaked down Smurfette's rosy cheeks again as she leaned in a little more, as she put one hand on top of it - and Papa nearly passed out. "I... I want to feel it on my tongue, to see what kind of flavor something with such a powerful scent might have! Am I going crazy? All these things I want, they don't make any sense!"

"Try it if you like," he said, unbelieving that he was hearing himself agree to such things. "Just don't blame me when it tastes like dirt, or worse!"

Without waiting any longer, she lunged for him and took him in her mouth. The warmth and wetness was beyond anything he had ever known - even beyond feeling their mouths together, beyond playing with her smurf-buds! He heard a moan escape him as she licked at its length, as she breathed harder through her nose, as she suckled him with all of her might. Then she pulled back and gasped, "I... this... it's salty, but sickly-sweet!"

"Is it?" he half-laughed, half-panted. "Is that how you wanted it to taste?"

"It is!" she exclaimed. "I... I can't explain why, but even though a small voice in my head thinks this is yucky, a much louder voice wants more! More and more!"

"Then have as much as you like!"

"Really?" Her elated smile slipped a notch. "Are... are you sure it's okay? That you're not mad at me, and it's not making you feel bad?"

"It feels stupendous," he told her honestly. "I- well, I feel guilty telling you, but I've never felt anything that I liked quite this much! Therefore, if you are also enjoying it, then feel free to continue!"

She made a happy little squeal, then grasped it tightly around the middle and wrapped her lips around its tip once more. Papa was transported. As he leaned back, intent on enjoying every last second of this miracle, he more felt than saw Smurfette slide downward to the floor and onto her knees so as to more easily use her mouth to bring such unimaginable pleasure to his erect man-part. After a few moments, he heard himself say, "More!"

"More?" she asked, licking its tip even as she spoke, her wide, hopelessly innocent eyes gazing up at him. "What do you mean?"

"Ah..." He started to pretend he had said nothing, to brush off his baser impulses, but they would not be stopped until they had their way. Resting his hand on top of her head, he cried out, "More movement, Smurfette! The more you move, the more fantastic it feels!"

She nodded vigorously and yelped, "Yes, Papa!" before she dove upon him again, eager to please her very, VERY special friend. And please him she did; after a few failed attempts, she found a way to push her head onto him and then pull away rapidly, lips and tongue laving his length the whole while. It was as if she were stroking him with her mouth, coaxing more and more pleasure from every last moment until-

"Wait!" he suddenly gasped. "Something... I cannot be sure what will happen, but something strange is afoot within my smurfberries!"

"Smurfberries?" she asked, still using her hand on him while pausing to speak. "Oh, you don't mean REAL smurfberries - you mean these, don't you?"

The instant her other hand fondled the small sack hanging beneath the rigid man-part, pressing into its yielding flesh with gentle-yet-firm pressure, he felt everything in that region grow-white hot. This really was too much! Then, without warning, something equally white-hot ejected itself from the tip of him, and though he was powerless to do anything about it, he could not help but lament that it sprayed itself all over Smurfette's dismayed face.

"EEP!" she screeched, head recoiling - then she closed one eye as the substance splattered across it. "Oh, I... what is this?! What happened?! Did you... did you make waste-water onto me?!"

DID he? No, surely not! Besides, this was thick and syrupy, and not at all the usual yellow color. "I... well, not that I can be sure, but I don't THINK so. This is..." He thought furiously - what was it that happened when human couples mated? It was much harder to think in this sudden state of exhaustion, to be sure.

"Papa?!" she prompted when he didn't answer for a while, voice growing more and more shrill. "Come on, tell me you didn't do that on me, that's... that's weird!"

"Y-yes, well! What you h-have here is a sort of seed, I believe. Was I supposed to plant it into the ground when I neared this state? Oh, I need to re-read that particular tome!"

"Seed?" She swiped at the stuff gluing her eyedlids closed until she could open both eyes again. "I don't understand!"

"The seed of life!" he told her. "Smurfs are born from the earth, but sometimes they are also born from a man-smurf and a woman-smurf putting their man-part and woman-part together. The same is true for humans, also - although NONE of them are born from the earth. Which, I believe, is why they can be so arrogant and spiteful."

"Put our parts together?" Smurfette said in disbelief as she stuck a little of the substance into her mouth from the tip of her thumb - and the face she made told him that it wasn't quite as pleasant as merely tasting his man-part had been. "But... but I don't understand how that can work. Where do we put 'em together?"

"Well..." Papa agonized over that for a brief moment. Then he held up both hands as he crouched down to be on her level. "This is the boy." He extended his forefinger. "This, then, is the female." He formed an O with the thumb and forefinger of his other hand. "When they sow the seed of life, this is put into this, like so-" he demonstrated "-and the seed is released as mine was just released. That is how the smurf-larva grows inside the female until it is ready to see the world, and then it comes forth as a smurfling. See?"

She shook her golden locks. "It doesn't make any sense to me. Why am I the circle?"

He smiled gently. "Because the woman-part looks like a circle. You do have a circle down there, don't you?"

"Well, that's true," she admitted awkwardly, frowning, "but it sounds uncomfortable for any man-part to put seeds into it. I mean, things normally come OUT of it, not go in!"

"Things? The waste-water?"

Now she looked slightly disapproving - which was such a change that he laughed to see it. "Come on, Papa, don't quiz me about stuff like this! You know I don't mean that! I mean the... the OTHER waste!"

"Eh?" Then he understood, and he cleared his throat. "Ah, Smurfette, I believe you and I are thinking about two different circles. I mean the OTHER one."

If her blinking, periwinkle eyes had been any less innocent-looking, he would have been sure she was joking when she asked, "Other one?"

"Come now, Smurfette, enough of this nonsense. You must know what I mean! Your woman-part is the circle where the man-part enters!"

Now she shook her head vigorously. "No, I really don't think it could. I mean, it's not a circle, so nothing can go inside it."

A strange, unsettling sensation began to creep into Papa Smurf's bones - one that felt very much like dread of impending doom. Something wasn't right here. At the very least, Smurfette was a little bit insane to think her woman-part didn't resemble the circle in his crudely-represented demonstration of how most humans procreated. On the other hand, suppose she WASN'T crazy. What was she trying to tell him?

"I... nothing can go inside it?"

"Yeah!" When he continued to look skeptical, she let out an exasperated sigh and said, "Fine, don't believe me? YOU tell me where you'd put any man-part into it!"

Before he could stop her, she whipped the quilt aside and revealed what most certainly wasn't the sort of woman-part that he'd been expecting. In fact, it wasn't a woman-part at all; it was a man-part.

Smurfette was a male smurf.

"NO!" he burst out. "B-but- no, but that-"

"Hey!" she breathed, alarmed as she looked at her own throbbing length of blue flesh. "It's... how did you switch our parts?"

"How did I WHAT?!" he half-shouted, distracted by the sight of it. It was very real. No tricks, no games, just a large organ that rivaled the size of his own.

"M-mine turned into yours! And... and yes, yours is mine now!" she squealed, pointing at the now-flaccid length dangling from between his own legs. "What did you do?"

A notion occurred to him, an understanding of what she thought had happened, but the entire situation was so beyond belief that he couldn't give voice to it. "Smurfette..."

"This... this is some kind of magic!" She touched it hesitantly, biting her lip, then shivered and let go, staring straight down at its slick, shining skin. "That icky seed-water went onto me, a-and it switched my woman-part to your man-part! Holy smurf, I- and you're a WOMAN now!"

"I'M A-" he began to bluster, then shook his head. "No, no, no! You're not understanding the situation, I'm afraid!"

"But just look!" she cried out, grabbing her engorged length and waggling it in his face, which made him fall backward with his hair nearly in the fire. "This is what you had before, am I right?! And now... now I have it, and you have what I usually have! It HAS to be a spell! Did you do this, or-" She moaned a little, her eyelid twitched, and then she gasped as she let go of the shaft. "Wait! It must be Gargamel, right? Only he would do something so fiendish as to switch our parts!"

All this time, he and the other smurfs had known - KNOWN beyond a shadow of a doubt - that their newest citizen was the only female of their species for miles. Suddenly, they don't even have THAT many. When could this have happened? HOW could it have happened? Maybe their nemesis really was responsible, except not in the way Smurfette believed.

Then he had another thought. It was a long shot, but it was also the only straw he had to grasp at. "Smurfette?"

"What?!" she snapped, alarm still in her voice.

"When..." A quick clearing of the throat as he pushed himself back up into a sitting position. "When you were created from clay by Gargamel all that time ago... what did your... well, your woman-part look like?"

"What?! What do you mean? It looked like any old..." Papa watched her face when her voice started trailing off, watched her contemplate this. "Actually, now that you mention it, I didn't have one back then, I don't think. I wasn't a real smurf yet, remember?"

"And then I cast that spell which turned you into a real smurf," he breathed, more to himself than to her. "Which would have filled in the rest of your anatomy. I mean, knowing what kind of sick creep Gargamel is, I'm willing to bet he gave you little clay mammaries so you would look a bit more womanly... but perhaps he thought sculpting one of THOSE was going too far. Yes, yes, it's entirely possible."

"Isn't that what I just said?" she said, as if being patient with someone who was very dense. "When I became real, I needed to eat, and go potty, and all that other real-smurf stuff! Before that I was just a spell, so what did I need a woman-part for?"

Papa stood up and began pacing, despite the odd feeling of his organ being exposed added to such a simple activity. "My spell was never specific; it was designed to turn you from an artificial being into a 'true' smurf. On the other hand, almost ALL true smurfs are male. It's a fairly simple leap in logic from there, isn't it?"

"Papa Smurf," she began hesitantly as she stood up, "you're scaring me a little with all of this. Am I... am I going to be stuck with your man-part forever?"

"Oh, of course not, my dear!" he told her automatically when he heard the fear in her voice, pulling her into a gentle hug. "There, there, don't be so frightened!"

For a few moments, they stood like that, her shivering against him while he stroked her back, enjoying her nearness even while his brain careened down a thousand different avenues. Her entire life from the time he read that incantation has been a lie because it assigned her the wrong gender. All of the smurfs had been misled when they believed her to be a sexually-available female of their species. Even Smurfette had believed her genitalia had been what all women had because there weren't any other women around to tell her differently.

A man had touched Papa Smurf's man-part. A very pretty man with long blonde hair and breasts, perhaps, but still undeniably male. Or was she? Male smurfs didn't have breasts, but Smurfette's were not only real but beautifully-formed. Her hips flared and her waist was trim. Her features were soft and lovely, her hands and feet more delicate. And yet, trapped between their stomachs was her throbbing, erect rod of maleness.

Papa felt vaguely sick. He also felt vaguely aroused again. Whether or not Smurfette was a female, she was the only smurf he had ever been intimate with. Already he was forming a bond. He didn't want to be, but it was automatic. The nausea increased when he thought about any of the other smurfs doing to him what Smurfette had done, but he couldn't help but play out those scenarios now that he knew that her reproductive organ was just as male as theirs were. There it was, still pressing up against him, still aroused and ready to spill its seed as his had done onto her face mere moments ago. Vile and unnatural.

She sucked in a breath, let out a tiny sob. Oh, but she was so feminine! He knew she was designed to be feminine, but sometimes it still amazed him how much of a success that design had been. The smell of her hair, the feel of her lips (both on his own and on his man-part)... everything about her was womanly except for that one detail. The one detail that kept being with her from feeling like the most natural thing on earth. What was he supposed to do?

Moreover, wht was he supposed to TELL her? So far as she knew, there was no question of her gender; she had been a girl forever and was still one. Not only this, but she was convinced that it was a "woman-part" when flaccid and a "man-part" when aroused. An understandable mistake given her ignorance, but without any kind of frame of reference to give her... how could he even begin to explain? Should he go dig up that tome he had learned about human anatomy from?

"L-listen," she whispered into his ear - and he felt all of his hairs standing on end. "I... I think I should probably go home. My dress is probably dry by now, I think, and, um... I've had enough excitement for one night. S-so I'll j-just-"

He waited for her to finish, but she didn't. Then he felt her grinding against him, heard her panting, and he relished the feeling. He didn't want to relish it, though! Within a few more seconds she pushed him away and gasped, "Okay! O-okay, I'm going now! H-hopefully by morning we can figure out how to reverse this spell!"

"Smurfette..." He sighed. "Listen-"

"Wait..." She was looking down toward his nether regions, and sure enough, he was growing harder even as she wathed it. "That... I don't understand, it's- we both have the same... but I don't understand!"

When she sank to her knees, he knelt to put a comforting arm around her back, but she scooted back a foot or so, whimpering. The sight of her, naked and cowering from him, sent a brief chill through his heart; the poor girl was obviously overwhelmed. What was he to do?

"Please listen," he began quietly without making another move. "This may be a little too much for you to comprehend right now, but it's the truth."

Smurfette sobbed, pushing at the alien, inflamed length between her legs to force it away from her, and sobbing louder when it only sprang back to thwack her in the stomach.

"I'm afraid there was a mixup when I cast that spell to turn you into a real smurf. Not that I could have predicted any such thing would happen, but... well, instead of you getting a woman-part, you got a man-part."

"But I DID get a woman-part!" she bawled. "And th- and then you took it, and now we BOTH have man-parts, and I d-don't- I don't-"

"No, Smurfette," he said kindly, but with a touch of firmness. She needed to understand that he was being serious or she would be even less likely to believe him. "You always had a man-part. As a matter of fact, I'm quite sure you've never even seen what a woman-part is supposed to look like."

"Stop it!" she shouted. "What are you talking about? Which one of us has been a woman the longest, you or me?! Don't tell me what kind of part I had!"

He sighed. "But you saw it. Once you... once my seed was spilled, my part turned into what you normally have. That is because... it's what my man-part normally looks like itself."

"NH!" This sound was caused by her pushing at and twisting her arousal; she was attempting to make it go away or lessen in intensity, but instead she merely served to bring it pleasure and therefore ensure it would stay just as strong for a while yet. The sounds she made while doing so drove him mad. "Papa Smurf, none of what you're saying makes sense! You're a woman?! Smurfs turn into men when they sprout seeds, but they're women the rest of the time?! Listen to yourself!"

"WOMEN," he went on a little louder, "have a circle down there! ANOTHER circle! Not just the one beneath your tail!"

This seemed to be the first thing he said that piqued her curiosity, even though she was still angry. "Another circle? Wha... no, that's ridiculous. Why should anybody need two circles? To make dirt-waste twice as much? Honestly, Papa, this-"

"The other one is for the man-part to go inside, like I tried to tell you before. It's also for the woman's waste-water. Unfortunately, you didn't get one of those; you got a man-part, because most smurfs have them, and I turned you into a 'real smurf'. What I'm trying to tell you is-"

"OH." It was a very heavy "oh", and the look on Smurfette's face was frightened, disgusted, angry... and intrigued. All at once, and all in equal measure. "Wait, Papa, but- no. No, if you're trying to say what I THINK you're trying to say, then I don't believe it! No way, no how! I c-can't... no, I AM a girl! I'm Smurfette, I'm the only girl smurf there is! Wh... how can you be trying to tell me that I... that I'm a..."

"A boy."

Now she looked utterly crestfallen. He knew he was shattering her world, but every second she spent believing silly fairy tales about switching organs would only make it that much worse when she finally did learn the truth. Better to get it all out of the way right now instead.

It got even harder for Papa Smurf to watch when she looked down at the thing pointing straight up at her face as if seeing it for the first time - likely, because she was. Never before had she been inebriated and tricked into kissing her first smurf, so when would her libido have been teased enough to awaken? She touched a fingertip to the small opening in the end, traced her finger along a vein on the side, and she shuddered. She put her face as close to it as she could - which was fairly close - and sniffed. Her eyelid twitched.

"It's the same. I... well, almost. Almost just like yours was when I..." Then she looked up at him, brows furrowed, beautiful chest heaving as she began to hyperventilate. "Then what were we doing before? We kissed, we- and I put my mouth on your man-part, and you played with my chest, and it was as if we were boyfriend and girlfriend. But if w-we are both boys, and I'm not even saying for sure that we ARE... then I'm very confused what this all means!"

Papa Smurf didn't answer. He was too busy staring at her rosy peaks. Something about that confounded him... and all at once, he realized why. "You have breasts."

"Huh? I m-mean... yeah, but so what?"

"Male smurfs don't have those at all," he went on, brushing a hand absentmindedly over his own featureless chest. "So if you truly are male, then you won't have them. But you do. Yet you also have the man-part."

"Okay, but I don't get it. What's that mean?"

He just looked into her eager, confused eyes for a few moments before he summoned the will to whispered, "I don't know, either. You certainly are the most unique creature I've ever had the pleasure of knowing, Smurfette."

At those words, her breath caught and she seemed to shrink in on herself. Then, almost immediately thereafter, she used both hands to cover her erect man-woman-part, moaning when her hands came into contact with it. Papa felt his own reawakening organ respond to this, felt his already-triphammering heart speed up a bit more. Oh, but she was too amazing... and even though something about all of this seemed wrong and unnatural, his animal instincts were crying out for him to copulate with her, to ravage and dominate this beautiful, precious creature in front of him.

But how was he to do that anyway? She didn't have the woman-part, after all. And where was her man-part supposed to end up? The whole thing was a logistical disaster waiting to happen. Yet he wanted her. Never before had he felt need this strong.

"P-papa," she rasped, need filling her up as well, "I- um, I mean something is... I feel so strange..."

"Eh?" he answered numbly, hand encircling his own length without him meaning for it to happen.

"The more I t-touch it, the m-more it wants to b-be touched," she explained, now unconsciously grinding against her own hands. "B-but I- Papa Smurf, I'm scared of what's gonna happen if I keep this up! Am I... will I just spray out seed-water like you did, or s-something else? Oh, help me!"

"I will help you," he said gently, kneeling beside her. "Don't worry your head, my dear. Let's take this one step at a time."

She squealed into her fist when he wrapped his other hand around her length, still touching himself with the first hand. What on earth was his thought process going into this action? That he would simply cause them both to spray seed again and then be done with it? To what logical end? Then again, logic seemed to have no place in thie current proceedings. Slowly, he drew his hand upward, watching her face to see if this was hurting or helping... and still wasn't sure nearly a minute later. But he couldn't stop yet. He had to know what she was feeling about it.

Papa himself was feeling very out of sorts at touching another man-part. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but it was warm and rigid, almost identical to his own. The skin surrounding the engorged flesh was smoother on hers, and he noticed his hand went completely around its girth; his fingers were a hair's breadth from his thumb when he grasped himself. Feeling recklessly adventurous, he pressed a gentle hand into her sack, and discovered it was smaller and more taut than his own; obviously the product of her younger body. The smurfberries inside were much the same, however.

When he returned his attention to Smurfette herself, he saw that tears were streaming freely down her face, and she was twitching from head to toe. Her entire fist was balled up and shoved as far as it would go inside her mouth, and he saw teeth driving themselves into the flesh of her fingers. Alarmed, he let go and asked, "Does it hurt that much?"

"No!" she was able to squeak out around her own hand. "N-not HURT, exactly... b-but I... but I c-can't- I can't- I..."

He frowned at her, saddened to think that it was so very overwhelming to cause her to feel such shame. "My apologies, Smurfette. I will do no more."

"WAIT!"

He had begun to stand, but now her body was pressing into his own, flattening him against the rug. Above him, gazing down with those perfectly clear eyes, he was again taken with how flawlessly radiant she was. Her face drew closer, and closer still...

"Papa Smurf, I... I want to give you..." Every muscle in his body tensed. "I want to give you another k-ki- kiss." He felt himself relax again, though only slightly. "I want that a lot, but I f-feel like I should be asking first. Should I?"

"You should. And you..." He was about to say that she was welcome to anytime, but he found he had to summon a little more courage than that first. "You may."

This kiss was even deeper and richer than the first, driven through the stratosphere by the nearness of her bare skin, the feeling of their man-parts rubbing one another, trapped there between two stomachs. He wanted to continue doing this forever, and yet he also wanted to throw this strange abomination that hung in the balance between male and female out into the cold rain. The second was definitely the lesser desire, especially within such a heated moment.

"SMURF!" she cried out. "I... something is... I'm going t-to- g-going- help!"

Ah, now this was interesting; it sounded as if she was nearing the end that he had reached just before his man-part emptied itself. What would it be like for her? Abandoning all pretense and reservation, he pushed her onto her back and took the burning organ that shouldn't exist into his mouth.

"YAAAIIEE!" she screamed. "Wh- WHAT ARE YOU D- Papa Smurf, don't do that, it's a man-part, I- you're a man, and you're touching my man-part with your mouth, it- it's weird!"

It was weird - much more bizarre than he had imagined, and he had already imagined it to be bizarre indeed. Even so, he couldn't pretend it was the worst thing he'd ever endured in his lifetime. Though he would rather have been teasing her cute nipples with his tongue, there was something oddly satisfying about the thick solid length inside his head Even thinking such things was difficult for him to endure, but they kept popping up in his mind as he laved her, as he used one hand on her berry-sack and the other one pushed into her thigh, keeping her from closing her legs on his head in an instinctual need to stop the burning intensity that was assailing her.

And then he did something that seemed to speed up this process a great deal: one of fingers, as madly as he was fondling her berries, slipped toward her tail and toward the tiny exit that lay between those. When this happened, he felt her entire body go rigid; not panting, not moaning, not anything. He chanced a look upward, still moving his tongue against her, and he caught this very alarmed look in her face - much more frightened than she had been of the rest of his actions. When he removed the finger, her body slowly began to melt into a writhing mass of arousal again.

It wasn't long at all after that; she began spraying seed forth. Having seen her reaction to the flavor of his own earlier, he pushed it aside and moved his face out of the way just in time. As he looked on in wonder, thick, viscous fluid exploded outward and painted itself across her stomach, one of the earlier spurts even reaching so far as her rosy little peaks.

While this was transpiring, Smurfette screamed, convulsed, shivered all over, moaned the most delicious moans he'd ever heard (delicious, were they? That was certainly something to scrutinize at a later date), then flopped down flat onto her back, panting and sweating, letting out tiny moans of astonishment now and then.

"Ah," he sighed, lying down next to her, propping up his head to watch her face. "Unless I am mistaken, you seem to have enjoyed that a great deal, young lady."

"I..." She coughed, blinked, and still addressed the ceiling as she said, "Yeah. I m-mean, it was really strange, Papa Smurf, but I think... maybe... yeah, it was pretty smurfin' fun. I think."

"Yes, I understand. The sensations are too overwhelming to state that the experience is 'fun', exactly."

A slight nod as he continued panting. "You got it. I, uh... wow, I can't believe you put your mouth on me the way I did for you, it- for some reason, it seemed less strange when I did it." She only got a grunt of agreement from him. "Can... oh, nevermind, that's just naughty of me."

"Go on," he said with a chuckle.

"Can we... maybe... do that again sometime?"

"How about right now?"

"NO!" She cleared her throat and rolled her head over to look into his eyes, a stray hair floating in front of her face. "I m-mean- gosh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to shout it that way, but I think... I think I'm too tired to do it again so soon! Does that make sense to you?"

"Perhaps. My body is ready for more, but I can see that yours is quite finished."

"Wha? I... more what?" Then her eyes slowly turned toward his rock-hard organ, and then widened in utter shock. "I can't believe- I mean, you- this very thing happened to you earlier when I did what I did, so you must have felt sleepy like I do now - except instead, you already... you... what is HAPPENING?!"

"Smurfette, I want to put my man-part inside you!" he told her urgently, not even having the vaguest guess of where the urgency came from. "But I... I understand that can't work, because your woman-part is not so womanly as in the books I've read. Honestly, I'm not sure of WHAT to do with this!"

Still breathing hard, eyelids drooping, she started to say something, then broke off as her lip trembled. Mustering some inner strength, she told him, "Y-you could... use my... mouth again, if you want! I'm not sure how much... help it will be, I'm just so very..."

It was while she was still speaking that the thought came to Papa Smurf. He was still pondering the impossiblity of Smurfette not having a woman-part. Something she herself had said; instead of two circles down there, she only had the one. Still, there WAS a circle down there after all, wasn't there?

Nonsense. That was a devilishly strange notion for him to conjure up; to put ANYTHING inside of that particular circle, no matter whose it was, sounded like the worst idea he'd ever heard - and he'd witnessed Brainy and Clumsy collaborate together on a science project! And yet... its appeal could not be denied. After all, it was still a circle. What if it worked? Then again, what if it didn't? He might hurt her - he might not, but only embarrass both of them. He might make her angry for even suggesting such an offensive move. This was likely a mixture of both the Smurfaretto in his veins and the mad erection egging him on, but it was nearly impossible for him to take those doubts in and use them in any way to dissuade his hunger for the curvacious, supple form lying next to him on the hearth rug.

Papa Smurf took her mouth again, and she relaxed into the kiss with no fight at all, opening her mouth to his, letting his tongue caress hers. Then she giggled and broke the kiss, drawing back and whispering, "Your beard tickles!"

"I... I want to look at something. Just look. Is that all right?"

"Go ahead," she mumbled; he could tell her head was swimming from both the liquor and the climax (what was it called? Gore-spasm? Something like that). "Look wherever you want to look."

Trying not to grin - or alternately, let out a whimper of fear - he moved downward to look at her half-inflated part. It really did look much like his, but with no hair and younger, more taut skin. He fondled it gently, enjoying how easily it moved now that it was no longer hard, and Smurfette made a faint sound of mingling discomfort and enjoyment. Then he pushed her legs further apart, sliding his hands to the backs of her knees before moving them upward. Once he had her feet pointing into the air, she finally whispered, "Papa? What are you looking for?"

Correction: he was no longer looking because he had found it. Her tight blue opening was the tiniest bit moist from sweat, which made it glisten in the flickering firelight. Unable to stop himself, he pressed his tongue against it.

"YAGH!" she shouted, tearing herself away from his grip and backpedaling until she was against the wall. "Papa Smurf, that- why did you DO that?!"

"Oh, I am sorry," he sighed, knowing he had gone too far even before he did it. "It just... called out to me."

"But that's my-" She glanced from side to side, as if looking for anyone who might be listening, then leaned in and whispered, "that's my waste-hole! It's filthy! Well, okay, so it's pretty clean right now because I bathed earlier today, but still!"

"Yes, you're right, Smurfette; that was a ludicrous thing for me to have done. I apologize."

"Why did you even want to? I m-mean... what, is it because your man-part is standing up?" Then she seemed to latch onto his train of thought, at least in part. "It is, isn't it? I... did it... you know, did it f-feel good to t-touch me there with your m-mouth?"

"It did," he easily admitted. There wasn't much point in being cagey with her now, not after everything they had recently done. "Not that I understand why, mind you, but I... rather enjoyed that. But if YOU didn't, then I won't be going it again, of course!"

She fidgeted with her hair, flexing her toes against each other. "Um... did it... I'm not sure I wanna know the answer to this, to be honest, but h-how did it t-taste?"

Feeling his face growing warmer, he told her. "Delicious." Her embarrassment mirrored his own. "I wasn't really even thinking when I did it, wasn't expecting any specific experience out of it, but it... it was... a wonderful feeling." He crawled toward her a little, and though her body tensed she made no move to escape. "Smurfette, I think... I think I want to put my man-part inside of there! I know, it seems like an extremely bad idea, but I... I simply have this overpowering feeling down deep in my belly that it will be worth trying out!"

"I doubt your belly is where the feeling's coming from!" she squeaked reproachfully.

"Come now, Smurfette!" He put a soothing hand on her knee. "Let's give it a try!"

"You can't!" she whispered fearfully, clutching her hindquarters with both hands as if he were going to randomly pounce upon them. "That's... no, no, I really don't have the same feeling you do about it! To me, it sounds scary!"

He harumphed, then forced his voice to become even more calm. "Why don't I try my mouth again? Just to see how that goes. Then, if we feel like we can progress to my man-part, we will, but if it hurts or feels too unpleasant, we can stop. How does that sound?"

"It sounds terrible!" she wailed.

Without waiting for her to say anything else, Papa Smurf began easing her legs apart. She considered, looking down at him with mingling curiosity and fear, then slowly lowered herself to the floor, propping herself up on her elbows so she could still partly see what he was doing. Hesitating with his face a mere inch from her nether regions, he watched her face for even the slightest hint of a negative - if she shook her head, or looked angry. Instead, she merely looked afraid as she nodded for him to continue, then bit her lip and closed her eyes.

"AH!" she moaned when his tongue made contact. "It's... OOH, no, NO no no NOOOO! It's too weird, I don't like it, it's too weird!"

"Very well, then," he said as he drew back, heart pounding in his throat. She might not have enjoyed that, but he couldn't even begin to describe how much he had. To think of it! Doing something so vulgar would be so... enticing!

"G-go on."

"Sorry?" he asked, looking up at her again. "Come again?"

Smurfette had to clear her throat before she could speak again, and even then it was a shaky whisper. "T-try it again. I c-can see you really w-want to."

"But you don't want me to," he said suspiciously. "And if that's the case, then-"

"W-well, m-maybe I didn't hate it as much as I said," she said in a rush, trying to sound as nonchalant as she could while actually shivering with excitement. "But I'm certainly not going to w-want to try it again if you d-don't get a move on right now, s-so quit sitting there like a- YOW! AAIIEEH, why, WHY?!"

Papa had knocked her onto her side in his haste to attack her tiny hole once more, pressing his face against her hindquarters so he could penetrate further inside, grasping her tail with one hand to brace himself. He felt his arousal growing even more inflamed than before, which he wouldn't have believed possible given that it was the second time it had done so in the same evening. Every sound she made, every nuance of soft flesh he brushed against deep within her, they all spurred him on, and before he knew it he was thrusting himself recklessly against one of her soft little feet while he stroked her half-hardened length with eager fingers.

"Wh-what are y- what the smurfing SMURF are you d-doing to- to my foot?!" she half-exclaimed, half-panted. "And m-my woman-part is... is too tired from before, it hurts a little t-to do this again so soon!"

"I'm not TRYING to use your foot in such a manner!" he told her once he had removed his mouth from her taut oriface... and swapped it for his finger. At that, he felt her entire spine buck, but he continued as if nothing had happened. "Rubbing my man-part against ANYTHING at this point is quite gratifying - it could just as easily be the floor! Even so, I can't pretend the floor would feel any better than your skin!"

He felt her toes curl around his length momentarily, then she seized up and wailed, "But m-my woman-part!"

"Yes," he grunted, leaning over her hip to look at it. "You appear to be enjoying this somewhat, my Smurfette!"

She looked as well, winced, and screwed her eyes shut as he continued to manipulate both her circle and her stick, driving her completely wild with every passing second until at last she pulled away with something very close to a scream, then smoothed her sweat-soaked blond hair down as she said, "Okay! OKAY, I do! I do like it, I... but p-please, you have to stop now, Papa Smurf! It's too much!"

"I'm sure it must feel that way," he agreed with her as he felt his heart racing, his insatiable hunger only growing. "But oh, Smurfette... if I could only put my man-part inside of you, I know - I just KNOW somehow that we will be the better for it!"

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she considered her options. "I... I t-trust you, Papa Smurf, so I'm sure you're right, b-but... wh-what if I'm not strong enough for this? For feeling you inside of me?! It sounds like... oh, I don't know, I don't KNOW, I'm scared!"

Nodding, he knelt in front of her, pressing his hardened length against her own. They were almost the same size, as a matter of fact; hers was thinner but almost as long. He took them both in one hand and squeezed slightly, and she let out a hiccuping keen that pierced his heart. "Do not be afraid. We will be doing this together, after all."

Papa Smurf began to poise it at the entrance of her, but just as he was beginning to believe he would not be stopped, she cried out, "WAIT!"

"Smurfette, please, it will be all r-"

"I... I think... you n-need to put something on it first!"

"I do?" He was confused now. "Something like what?"

She blinked, surprised. "I... gosh, I don't know. What could I be thinking of? I don't know where on earth that thought came from!" He shrugged and started to continue, but then she screamed, "SOMETHING WET!"

His eyebrows drew together as he considered this. "Wet? Like what?"

"Yes... yes!" She touched a finger to her own tongue, then looked up at him and whispered, "Your finger... it... it hurt a little more when it went in, b-because my circle was only a little wet from your mouth before! I... I think it'll hurt a LOT more if you don't put something wet on your man-part first!"

Smurfette had a point, and for a moment he marveled at her instinctive reaction; her body knew it needed lubrication for this venture to be successful, even if her mind wasn't aware of it before that moment. Then he saw the gelatinous droplets all over her stomach and he knew what must be done. It seemed only slightly disgusting to not only touch it, but to utilize it for this purpose... but then again, if all went as planned, he was about to put a lot more inside of her than that.

"Oh smurf!" she said with a frown when she realized what he was doing. "Seriously? Out of all the wet stuff you could have used, you're going with THAT?! But it came out of my woman-part already, and- and now it's- OOOooh, that feels nice..."

Apparently, simply rubbing the outside of her opening wasn't nearly as overwhelming as entering it, so he took this opportunity to play with her body, to bring her pleasure without the added fear of the unknown. As he rubbed, he moved his mouth to one of her beauteous peaks and enjoyed its texture once more, and she responded as he had hoped - joyful, perhaps a little alarmed at the same time, but mostly eager. When his finger entered her, she bucked and stiffened with her limbs pointing straight out in a way he could only laugh at, but this time she began relaxing into the presence within her after a few seconds. He pushed further inside, he wriggled to and fro, and all of this was met with warm acceptance - even if her words did not match her bodily reaction and tone of voice.

"No," she said throatily, licking her lips. "No, no more, please! Oh, it's so dirty, I feel dirty, Papa Smurf! Why is this happening to me?!"

He left a trail of kisses down her stomach, traced his tongue along her arousal; she shivered. He took one of her soft berries into his mouth, letting his lips rest gently on the skin surrounding it, and she shivered again, this time making an odd noise like a cat being flipped upside down. Inspired, he suddenly added a second finger to the first - and this time, she did sound worried.

"Papa SMURF!" she shouted. "That's going too far, I- there can't be enough room for all of that inside there! H-how- what are you DOING to me?!"

"Bringing you pleasure," he told her in a voice that did not sound like his own. He felt a smile spreading across his face. "Aren't I?" She didn't answer. He used his other hand to squeeze her man-part, nipped at the berry-skin with his teeth and asked again, "AREN'T I?"

"No!"

"Tell the truth, now!" he egged her on, pulling at it as hard as he could. He knew full well that unless he bent it in another direction he would not be hurting her, but tugging in this manner would likely startle her into speaking. He was absolutely correct.

"YES!" Smurfette screamed, trying to move her hips from side to side and avoid what he was doing to both circle and stick. "It's terrific! It's incredible! I hate every minute of it, but I can't stop wanting more!" She took a few shallow breaths, let out a whimper so pathetic that Papa Smurf almost made one of his own, then cried, "So either leave me alone, or... or put your man-part inside of me right now!"

He grinned. "Your wish is my command." On a whim, he moistened his fingers and stroked himself for a brief moment, also using some of the fluid that had begun to gather on its tip. Satisfied that it was at least partly moistened, and so was her oriface, he lowered himself to the threshhold and whispered, "Brace yourself."

"Oh...!" She wanted to say more, he could tell, but didn't have the ability. Therefore, she merely nodded, squeezed her eyes shut, and turned her head to the side... and then eased her thighs open to admit him. He looked down at the perfect little backside, at the spherical berry-sack and rigid organ above it, and he thought he had never seen anything so inviting in all his long days.

Then he began his entry.

"OOH!" she shouted. "It's- oh, it feels different, it- NNNAAAHA! Too much, too BIG! STOP!"

He did stop, but he did not retreat; it was enough for now to halt his advance, wasn't it? He watched her face very carefully as he waited for a few moments, listening to her pull breath after breath, then asked, "Better?"

"A... a little..." She cleared her throat, stole a glance up at him, then closed her eyes again. "I f-feel m-my body trying to take you inside now... it- it's not happy about it, but it- I think it does like this. It must if it wants to let you in, right?"

"Sounds plausible," he said, wowing to how even being this tiny bit inside of her felt. Unbelievable! The warmth! It was even better than her mouth had felt! He began to push again, but found a foot on his chest. "Eh?!"

"WAIT," she commanded in a steely voice he didn't know could come out of Smurfette. When he turned startled eyes upon her, he saw tears in the corner of her frosty eyes. "I... this isn't very easy, I... I need more time. Okay?" Impatiently, he began to move his own hips from side to side this time, but immediately she kicked him where her heel was already resting and he stopped. "There. I... okay, I... I know I can do this, b-but... okay, go!"

"Go?" he asked in disbelief. So soon after she had stopped him?

"Yes, go - I feel my circle is ready now, I think! So do it, quick!"

With a shrug, he placed a gentle hand on her knee and moved it to one side; her foot stayed where it was, but he could actually advance now. Then, as he watched in somewhat detached fascination, he began to slide inside of her body a fraction of an inch at a time.

"OH!" she shouted. "Oh, it's- PAPA, you're going inside! IT is going inside! This is smurfing crazy! How can this be happening? How can this even be POSSIBLE?! It feels... it feels... it feels GREAT!"

"It does?!" he asked her urgently. This was the most openly she had admitted enjoying their activities thus far. "You're not just saying that, now, you really do find this to be an agreeable feeling?"

After a quick shiver, she responded, "I DO! It's amazingly terrifical! I... I have Papa Smurf's man-part in my circle! It's so hard and- and big, and WARM, and perfect! It makes me feel like I'm... I don't know, COMPLETE or something! It's almost as good as when you touched my woman-part!"

Papa Smurf smiled; she was still calling it a woman-part. And in a sense, for her it was; she might be the only one who could see it that way, but that was fine. Smiling, he reached the hand down that wasn't on her knee and touched it lightly. "You mean this?"

"NAHAH!" she let out, seizing so violently that he nearly fell over. Suddenly one of her toes was in his nostril, another in his mouth. Smiling, he removed her foot and put it back where it had been, though she hardly noticed, preoccupied as she was. "N-not at the same time! It's way over the top, I'll never be able to handle those together!"

"You did a moment ago," he goaded as he began to buck his hips gently into hers. Every time he did, she spasmed again, and he would have to be painfully vigilant in order to maintain his balance. "When it was only fingers, you were able to handle both stimuli simultaneously."

"Exactly - when it was only fingers! Your man-part is like two-and-a-half fingers - and you're moving it and out much more! Too, TOO much, I- MMH, Papa SMMMMURF, oh my SSSMURFING smurf!"

Papa felt his ears burning from the string of profanities she had just let out; smurf might not be her primary language due to being a human construct, but she had obviously been picking up a term here and there - and obviously from Jokey and Grumpy. Then he felt something else beginning to burn and forgot all about what she had said. "Oh, I say, this- yes, I think it's nearing the finish once more, Smurfette!"

"M-me too!" she screamed - and to his surprise, she reached down and began touching her own man-part, hand slipping and sliding around as it attempted to catch hold of the wiley implement while he was thudding into her with rapidly increasing speed. "Ah, I c-can't- I can't do it myself, you're t-t-TOOO big, too much, TOO MUCH, WOWIEEEE!"

Grinning, he grasped it himself and began to manipulate her a second time. Instantly, her cries rose in pitch, and her hands alternately clawed at his hearth rug and massaged her glistening peaks. After a few seconds, he decided to simply hold his hand in one place and allow his thrusting to cause her to jut upward into the hole his fingers and palm created for her. It became clear very quickly that she enjoyed this equally.

"It's... it's happening again!" she half-sobbed, half-moaned. "The same thing that just happened, whatever that was - I... I'm gonna d- I'm gonna do it- I'm GONNAAAAH!"

"Yes!" he grunted as he wrapped his arm around her knee and redoubled his efforts, watching in awe for a brief moment as his length slid out of her stretched-taut circle, then remained fascinated as it so easily slipped back inside. Over, and over, and over... then he said through clenched teeth, "YES, Smurfette, yes! Give me your beautiful body! Let us both feel this pleasure to its fullest!"

Her soft, luscious lips parted wider and wider with every passing second, her back arching, and she screamed, "YEAH! Yeah, more, MORE! Harder, faster - SMURF ME HARDER!"

"Your wish is my command!" he bellowed as he abandoned all restraint and laid into her as if his life depended on the speed with which he moved, the majesty of her scalding-hot insides as they glided along his unrelenting arousal. Then, just when he was sure his head was going to pop from the intensity of all these feelings... something else burst forth from another part of himself. And then, in that moment, he felt as if he had achieved paradise.

"AAAAIAAAYAHAHAAAAAAH!" Smurfette shrieked, back arching so high that he could just barely see her nose between her gorgeous areolas - and then it happened. Much as his had done (was STILL doing!), her man-woman-part erupted like a geyser, splattering her chest and stomach once more with the thick seed-water that was simultaneously being deposited deep within her own body. Such beauty...

Grinning at her reaction, he continued to manipulate it for a few more seconds, watching more seed spill out and over his hand, before he felt his own man-part begin to ache. Slowly and cautiously, he began easing it backward until it flopped against his leg, more asleep than awake. The same seemed to be true of hers, and he gave it a gentle squeeze - and this time she uttered a more pained than pleasured sound, and he let go as he sat down heavily.

"Wha... what did... what was..."

"I... I'm not sure," he panted, swallowing thickly. "But I believe... we have fornicated, Smurfette."

Her eyes had taken on a glassy appearance when she rolled slightly to look at him. "Forni-whatsis?"

"Mated." He looked at the mess on his hand and on his man-part, and he suddenly felt an ugly sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. He HAD mated - with another male. Although he used the term very loosely in Smurfette's case, the fact remained that he had not spilled his seed within a true woman-part as was customary, but instead in a different circle not quite intended for such a purpose. On the other hand, he could not deny that it certainly did the job in a pinch!

"Oh?" Smurfette's face was still flushed from before, but he suspected she was also becoming more and more embarrassed by the moment. "Does... does this mean we are now... very, VERY special friends?"

"Indeed," he sighed. What would be the implications of this? He shuddered to think. They might not all be negative, but any that were could perhaps be the worst he would ever encounter. He simply wouldn't know until the future came to pass.

"Are we... married?"

"WHAT?!" he snapped, whirling to look at her - and he felt his head spin. Dizzy. "Wha... I, agh... what do you mean?"

She shrugged modestly. "I... I once demanded that Gargamel buy me some new dresses if he wanted me to do his dirty work, and he refused - and when he did, he said 'If I wanted to be henpecked, I'd have brewed myself a wife instead!' When I asked him what he meant, he explained the whole thing... and I guess I didn't really understand at the time, but now that you and I have mated, and you've seen my girl-body and I've seen your boy-body, then-"

"Wait, wait, wait just a minute here! Doing this does NOT mean we are married any more than... than eating a pie makes you a pastry chef! No, we have NOT become husband and wife just by doing this, no sir!"

Barely able to support herself, she rolled over onto her elbow and asked, "Th-then what do we have to do next? B-because... because I really want to do it, whatever it is! And I want to do it with you, Papa Smurf!"

Coinciding notions of dread and exhiliration welled up inside of him. He really didn't want to take a wife, mostly because he didn't know what he might be getting into if he did... but having Smurfette express this unrelenting desire to join her life to his in such an intimate way was more than he had expected. He cleared his throat and said in a low voice, as if someone could be listening at the door, "A-are you quite sure about this, my dear? Do you understand what it means to become a wife?"

"Not really," she admitted, running her finger idly along her hip. "I just know it means you and me will spend all our time together, and I'll cook and you'll make money, and then we'll have children, and you have to listen to me complain, and then we get a 'divorce', whatever that is - but I guess it's probably some kind of present they give you when you become married, right? Oh, it sounds like so much fun!"

Completely flabbergasted, he ran his hand down his face and tried to think quickly. How could he back out of that without hurting her feelings? The truth was, there WAS no simple way to turn her down flat and spare her feelings. None whatsoever. Therefore, he forced a smile onto his face and said, "What say we think about that a little more before we come to a decision?"

"OH, PAPA SMURF!" she cried, launching herself at him and tackling him to the rug. As she kissed him with all of her might, he felt their man-parts smooshing together, and the feeling was now so much more uncomfortable due to their having spent not one, but TWO deposits of the seed-water in such a short time. Two EACH! Even with that, it still somehow was a pleasant feeling. How could that be? The dull ache was a satisfied one, he supposed. Those thoughts still bumping around in his head, Smurfette released him from the kiss and cried, "And I LOVE how your beard tickles when I kiss you! Oh, it's smurfing WONDERFUL!"

"Yes, wonderful," he said dully as he gazed up into her sparkling eyes. Such unbridled joy... when was the last time he'd felt that himself? It was somewhat catching; he could feel his body willing itself up to kiss her again, could feel his arms aching to encircle her smooth back, his hands to play with her golden waves of silky hair. And then he did all of those things.

When Papa Smurf looked back on that night in the years to come, there were things he remembered a lot more clearly than the mating he and Smurfette had engaged in. The exact details faded in time, of course, but these two things are what he held onto: firstly, the growing resolve that Smurfette, no matter what she had been originally made of, no matter what spells transformed her and no matter what part rested between her thighs, was a real smurf woman who was worthy of any man. He just happened to be the one lucky man she chose, that's all.

And secondly? The feeling that he was no longer simply a leader of his people, emotionally distant from them by nature of his position. What started out as a stormy, restless night turned into a sacred one that gave him a reason to not only live, but embrace life fully. To find joy in the day-to-day.

Also, perhaps there was a third thing he gained from that experience. A lesson; always lock up the Smurfaretto when you're done with it. EVERY SMURFING TIME.


~The Smurfing End