The alarm crashed through his dream, but the images faded instantly as he woke. All he was left with was an odd feeling of not being right.
He rolled over to get up… what the hell was this squishy stuff between his arms!
Sitting bolt upright the sheet slid down… his heart stopped as he saw two, rather generous looking breasts stuck to his chest. Immediately he grasped them with his hands… OUCH… FUCK they were actually attached… how the hell did that happen???
Another thought entered his mind…. he slid his hand tentatively under the sheet covering his lower half.
Hairline… okay… still hair, oh shit… where the fuck is my dick??? OMG IS THAT WHAT I THINK IT IS???
He stood up suddenly… everything felt a bit off… the breasts made his center of balance weird… walking he cringed… there was no usual slap of his nuts between his legs. Christ what was this???
He ran the few steps to the bathroom… BLOODY HELL that was sore, how the fuck do women run with these things stuck to their front? He wouldn’t be doing that again in a hurry.
He stared speechless in the mirror.
Looking back at him was hazel eyes … it was so strange not to see his own refection. The head was surrounded by a mop of mid brown.
“I must be dreaming.” he thought. Turning on the cold tap he splashed his face with water. The skin on his chin was far too smooth, not even a hint of stubble. The female face still glanced back at him.
“OOOWW!!” … pinching his own arm hadn’t helped either. And now he felt a slightly familiar tingle. He needed a piss. He walked to the loo and stood facing it.
“Ah, that’s not going to work.” He turned to sit down. “How do women’s waterworks work?” … he cleared his mind… “Oh, just the same.”
Now … he’d need to wipe wouldn’t he? Nothing there for him to shake. He wiggled his hips a bit, which resulted in nothing but the hinges of the seat cracking. Pulling a length off the paper he scrunched it up. Dabbing should do it surely. Standing up he bent forward to see what he was doing… and the bloody boobs were in the way. Seriously how do women cope with these things? Squishing them to one side so he could see better he dabbed rapidly.
As he dropped the paper down the toilet he realised he needed to have a better look. Sure he’d seen these things from a between-the-thighs perspective, but you know, when in Rome as they say.
The huge mirror on the bedroom wall would be perfect. It weighed a lot more than he remembered. Ah, girly arms didn’t have the same biceps. He carefully walked the mirror to the foot of the bed, leaning it portrait against a chair.
It would be too short a distance for a full length standing look, but he wanted close up first.
Sitting on the edge of the bed he looked at his reflection.
Yup a naked woman with, what looked like, all the proper womany bits was looking back at him. She was a bit plainer and older than he’d go for. She must be 30 something he determined, much older than his early 20′s prime. Decent sized tits, though. He cupped them with his hands, brushing a finger over the nipple.
Oh, that sent a tingle south. More so than it did on him… well him normally. Shit? what if this is normal now???
Right, bite the bullet time. He inched forward so his hips were just on the edge of the bed and looking in the mirror he leaned back slightly and spread his legs. Holy shit everything looked “right”. Not right for him, obviously, but right for a girl.
He moved his hand down slowly, eyes glued to the mirror. Spreading his fingers he opened up the folds. Sitting up to look closer he realised he needed the mirror nearer. Re-positioning it his nipples brushed against the cold glass, shooting more tingles towards his nether regions. Fuck me, he thought, I thought women had this stuff in control and it was just us men that are horny bastards. If everything they do tingles like this then they must have godlike self control.
He sat on the carpet, leaning against the base of the bed with his legs splayed either side of the mirror. A much clearer view of what was there now.
Now to get back to where he was, he slid his fingers down with more confidence this time. Both hands free to investigate he opened the folds with one and nervously felt around with the other.
Hello there little funhole, let’s see what this feels like. He circled the outside with his predominant right hand, not as wet as he’d experienced feeling before, but what the hell. He held his first and second finger together and pushed.
“OW, what the fuck? That wasn’t so good, why were things not all soppy down there. They always were when he got his hands in women’s pants.
Lubrication maybe? He brought his fingers up to his mouth and decided one at a time might be a better idea as well. He spat on his fingers and rubbed it over the middle one.
Let’s try this again. His finger entered himself … that was such a weird thought… much easier this time, but still it didn’t feel as good as the loud moaning reactions he always got from doing this. Even on porn movies the women screamed with pleasure at this. What was he doing wrong? This should feel good right?
Admittedly things down there did feel a little damper. Maybe he should try that little supposedly magic button that women harp on about.
Wriggling his fingers around he found the talked about clitoris bit.
He dragged his dampened finger over it lightly… well that felt okay… he continued rubbing over it, his stokes getting marginally firmer as he played. A familiar feeling coil started to build up in his belly… okay, so this must be right then. He sensed a warmer trickle from the hole below. Now THAT seemed more normal. He moved his fingers from the bud of nerves and slid his fingers inside… almost instantly the tensed coil stated to fade away.
What the fuck, NO, that was feeling really good, why did it stop?
He moved his fingers back to the really good place and started rubbing again, this time harder and the coil returned
Fuck this was wonderful… not mindblowing but great… he slid his hips forward, continuing his rapid circling he shoved two fingers of his left hand inside.
He was suddenly hit with the most blinding rush of… fuck knows what but it was fucking amazing and he didn’t want to stop… his whole body felt electrified and he couldn’t manage to keep the steady pace of his fingers moving. The waves started to ease, and the blood thundering in his ears started to abate.
He lay there stunned for several minutes.
That was what he thought it was…wasn’t it?
Fuck women have a far better rush that he had ever managed from stroking his dick.
He needed to experiment more. The clock read 10:46am. He had all day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The alarm broke through his sleep again. He woke with a grin and shoved his hand down to find… A DICK!!!
OH THANK GOD his mini-me was back. He was whole again.
A pang of disappointment hit him. Yesterday had been a day of constant frigging himself and it had been a lot of fucking fun. He’d gone to bed with his lower bits throbbing. He’d probably chaffed everything from playing too much, but he’d been so addicted to the wonderful feelings it had resulted in.
He’d learned a lot about female anatomy in just one day though, He stood up, Christ his arse was sore… was that the payoff? Okay, maybe he shouldn’t have tried the cucumber. That had been a lot sorer than he’d expected until he’d lubed it up more. Which reminded him… he’d need to fling out that jar of mayo cos… eewww.
Oh well… better deal with the morning wood then.
~~~~~~~~~
On the other side of the planet her alarm went off, wakening her for her night shift. She was relieved to find her usual boobs nestled between her arms, even if her lower half felt a bit abused. Must be an effect from last nights antics.
Her boss at the club would likely be fanging at her for not calling in last night, but she had had no idea how to explain what had happened, Really how can you call up and say you are not coming into work with a voice several octaves lower.
Finding male clothes hadn’t been hard, she had a few interesting items tucked away in her closet for potential partner play. And so she had gone to her workplace last night as a customer with her new outer form, using one of her guest invite cards to get in. The clock at the cloakroom read 10.46pm.
The club clientele she seeked were there. She felt her lower addition twitch at the thought. For as long as she could remember the one thing she had wished for every birthday cake was to be a man for a day to feel what it was like. As the years went on she’d got more specific, just for one day, attractive, nicely toned.
Tonight she had every intention of finding out how fucking felt for a guy in every… single… way. She knew the reputation and likes of the man she now strode up to. Her outer appearance was perfect for him, and he liked to Switch rather than just play purely Dom or Sub.
He also had the most fabulously big cock that she knew would feel heavenly splitting her arse open and hitting her prostate.
5/11/17
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