Transsexualsim can be loosely translated as the right gender in the wrong body. This is a science fiction version of such an experience. It is classified in the science fiction section because it is a science fiction story, but it might fit as well within the transsexualism section to warn persons who would not enjoy transsexual stories to avoid reading this one. Please be warned, it does eventually develop transsexual content that some may find very difficult to enjoy. If you would dislike, or even hate, such stories, then try something else more to your liking. Don’t read a story you won’t like! Also be forewarned, the use of gender pronouns will at times be inconsistent and perhaps confusing. This is intentional, as it is part of the story. Also note, the story starts a little slow, but it does eventually take off and can be read in sections. Finally, having said all that, I hope you enjoy it!
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Marcia Martin and Michael Brady didn’t know each other. There was a reasonable chance that they might have known each other. Both were students at Livingston College. Both were in their third year of college. They were both twenty. They may have even taken a course together, or at least seen each other. But, if they did see one another, they wouldn’t think twice about it. Why is one person any more special or interesting than another?
They might though have made a pretty good couple. If they had both enrolled in Match.com or eHarmony there was actually a pretty good chance that they would in fact be matched. They had quite similar interests. They both liked taking an afternoon walk in the park, they both liked romantic comedies (although Michael would be hard pressed to admit it), they both liked playing board games (Scrabble was Michael’s favorite; Trivial Pursuits was Marcia’s), they both liked college football (although Marcia would be hard pressed to admit it), they both liked reading historical novels (that was a pretty obscure match), they both liked eating healthy foods (with the exception of extra salt on very buttery popcorn), neither liked to drink (it wouldn’t be legal anyway), neither had any interest in experimenting with drugs, and neither was dating anyone.
It wasn’t that they weren’t interested in dating. They were both quite interested, but they were both quite shy. They were both quite inexperienced, sexually. They both had dated, but neither had gone at all very far. In fact, neither had yet gone past second base, although neither was particularly sure what that meant.
Neither should really have any particular difficulty finding a partner. They were both quite attractive. Michael had strong facial features, warm dreamy eyes, a wonderful smile, thick silky dark hair, and broad shoulders. He worked out frequently, including with dead weights. As a result, he had a well-defined chest, substantial biceps, and a very taut, firm abdomen.
Marcia was equally attractive. She had short curly blonde hair (she took great pride in her hairdos), large green eyes, very cute freckles, and the most adorable dimples. She was rather petite, but with very lovely firm breasts. She was though a little self-conscious about them as they seemed, at least to her, to be disproportionately large for her frame. This wasn’t really true. They weren’t actually huge, or even necessarily terribly large. Perhaps they would not have seemed so large on a girl of average height. However, she would notice that they would attract a boy’s eyes. Don’t they realize how obvious it is when you’re looking at them? That might presumably be a good thing, but not for Marcia. Boys ogling (well, more like just stealing glances) just made her feel more uncertain and self-conscious. And, she was certainly not interested in a boy who was drawn to her primarily because of her breasts.
They did though finally have a chance to meet one another. They had both volunteered to participate in one of Dr. Minsky’s psychological experiments. Everybody enrolled in Introductory Psychology had to participate in at least five experimental hours of research being conducted by psychology professors. It was a good way to experience, firsthand, what it was like to be within an experiment, as well as to contribute to the further growth of science. Marcia found it quite remarkably wonderful that she could in fact contribute to the growth of a science. Who wouldn’t want to do that?
Dr. Minsky was researching trans-humanism or mind uploading, otherwise known as mind transfer or whole brain emulation. There were a lot of different names for it, but by any name it was essentially the investigation of the transfer (real or hypothetical) of a human mind into an artificial substrate; more specifically, a computer. One would develop thereby a form of artificial intelligence, called an infomorph. Perhaps someday one could even have the computer develop a sense of identity and consciousness, in a manner like Data (Star Trek) or David (Artificial Intelligence).
Dr. Minsky was currently investigating the transfer of social memory from a human into a computer. The memory had to be new, unique, to the person, created within the context of the experiment, so that its appearance within the computer could not be attributed simply to knowledge that any person could have had at any particular point in time (i.e., it could not be downloaded into the computer by a less than honest researcher). In addition, once transferred, the memory would be lost to the person, and so it was best not to transfer from the person anything that he or she would find to be significantly important. A silly little experience created during the course of the experiment was an obviously trivial memory to lose.
In this study, he naturally needed two persons, because the memory would be social, the memory of their interaction. Michael and Marcia arrived on time. They were told to come to two different locations, as Dr, Minsky didn’t want them to begin developing any social memories before the experiment actually started. They might then transfer a memory that he could not objectively verify as actually having occurred. He first greeted Michael, took him to his enclosed cubicle, explained in more detail the nature of the study, and then got his informed consent. He then left to get Marcia waiting on the other side of the lab, took her to her cubicle, explained in some detail the nature of the study and got her informed consent. Basically, they would interact with each other via a self-contained computer, thereby having a social interaction that was fully monitored and recorded. Dr. Minsky would then upload their memory of the interaction into a third, independently wired computer.
Michael and Marcia were each hooked up to the computer via micro-electrochemical and electro-mechanical transingular pathways. It took quite awhile to get it all set up. Just getting wired could take up to two hours, with only one hour left to conduct the actual experiment. This was why Dr. Minsky’s research was so popular among the students. You got three of the five hour requirement in just one sitting.
Dr. Minsky was quite excited about today’s experiment as he had recently obtained substantially more powerful cables, ones that could handle considerably greater electro-mechanical flow.
With considerable bated breath, he flipped the switch, and was instantly knocked off his laboratory stool and thrown to the floor by a rather severe electrical shock.
The cables had been improperly connected, and very grossly so. His assistant had actually used the central wiring to connect Michael and Marcia to their mutual computers, and the surge of power was excessive, to say the least. The overload blew out Dr. Minskey’s command system, throwing him to the floor, leaving him unconscious.
Michael and Marcia at first had no idea that anything was wrong. They did feel a very strange sensation in their heads, a sense of warmth suddenly entering their bodies, their brains, and then they began to tremble, shake and convulse, and then went unconscious.
Dr. Minsky was the first to awaken. It took him awhile to realize what had happened. At first he couldn’t even recall who he was or where he was, but his memories gradually returned, and he realized, with considerable shock and horror, that something had gone wrong, really terribly wrong.
He first rushed to Marcia’s cubicle. You always first rescue the female. And, to his dismay, and trepidation, she was indeed unconscious, albeit still sitting in the laboratory chair (which was in fact a very comfortable easy chair, as the experimental subjects would have to sit there for quite some time). He didn’t know at first what to do. He knew, as a Livingston researcher, he should have described such a potential scenario in his application for university approval to conduct this study, but he hadn’t ever imagined such a possibility. Something like this had never happened before, and there was really no way he could have anticipated it, or at least that would be his story, his defense. His heart sank at the thought of what could happen to him, to his research, and then realized that was probably a little selfish, given the fact that this girl might in fact be quite seriously harmed, if not dead. He cursed himself for being such a selfish person, and rushed to her aid, to disconnect her, to hopefully revive her.
He gave no thought to the possibility that the wires might still be hot. He didn’t even know how long he had been out, how long she had been connected, and perhaps was still connected.
He politely, delicately, patted her cheek. “Marcia? Marcia? Are you alright? Wake up girl, I think you got a bit of an electrical shock there.”
His heart raced as she failed to respond. He wondered if he should apply mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. But, he also realized that he didn’t really know how to do it. It did require blowing air into the young lady’s mouth and feeling, no pressing, on her breasts, no on her chest. Well, in any case, he would certainly have to open her blouse to do that, wouldn’t he? He again berated himself for momentarily, only just for a brief moment, thinking that it would be nice to have a peek at the pretty young coed’s youthfully perky breasts. Maybe he was indeed a very evil man and would deserve to lose his faculty position. What kind of person would have such a thought at a time like this?
“My head, my head,” Michael moaned, his hand coming up to his head, feeling around, rubbing his forehead. “Oh man, I have such a fucking headache.” His mind was all groggy and confused. He didn’t at first even recognize the face of the man looking intently down at him, or understand where he was, or why he was sitting back in this big easy chair, wires hanging down all around him. “What the fuck?”
‘Rather course language to come out of such a petite, delicate mouth,’ thought Dr. Minsky, but he was nevertheless ecstatic. She’s alive! She’s alive! He was so, so relieved. Well, at least the charge wouldn’t be negligent homicide. That was something, wasn’t it? But, then, he realized, it still could be. “Wait! Wait right here!” he exclaimed, and rushed over to Michael’s cubicle. “Don’t leave!” he shouted back as he made his way to Michael’s room.
Marcia was already awakening, and was in fact sitting up. “My gosh, Dr, Minsky,” she said, as she saw the professor dash into the cubicle. “Wow, that was really something. What a cool experiment. Did it work?”
“Um, yeah, sure.” He wasn’t too sure what to say. It appeared that Michael didn’t realize how awfully wrong things went. Wouldn’t that be a stroke of luck if they both just thought that this was how it was supposed to go! The students rarely read the entire consent form, and hardly paid any attention to what he was saying when he described the procedure. Whereas a moment ago he was thinking he might face a charge of negligent homicide, he was now realizing that he might in fact experience no repercussions whatsoever! These two students could just leave, thinking that everything went fine. He was, of course, supposed to file an incident report when something did go wrong, but Michael and Marcia apparently felt that nothing had gone wrong, so who was he to suggest that there had in fact been an “incident.” He began to help Michael get disconnected from all of the wiring.
Marcia was feeling a bit confused. She didn’t feel right. Her body didn’t feel quite right, which was a rather odd thing to think, and even odder to feel. Were these really her hands? They certainly didn’t look like her hands. No way were these her fingernails. For one thing, there was no nail polish, and the nails were in fact atrocious. How long had she been asleep?
And what the heck are these clothes? These aren’t her clothes! Her face reddened at the thought that the doctor might have actually changed her clothes while she was asleep. But, why would he do that? That certainly wasn’t in the informed consent form, or at least she would never have signed it if it had been there. Just the thought of the professor seeing her in her undies was shocking, if not repugnant.
She touched her face, and again felt that this just wasn’t right. Her skin felt much more coarse and rough. There was even a pimple! What was that pimple doing there?! She didn’t have a pimple when she came into this experiment. If this experiment caused her to have a pimple, Dr. Minsky would be in big, big trouble!
There was even some stubble. Stubble?! No way! Her hair?! She felt her hair. What happened to her pretty hair?! Had he cut her hair? No way! She sat full up in the chair. Something was very, very wrong.
“Dr. Minsky, what has happened to me?!”
“What?” That wasn’t a good sign. Maybe the students were going to be a bit upset about this after all.
Marcia reached for her purse that she had placed by the chair. She had a mirror in her purse and sorely wanted to see what she looked like. She sure felt like a mess. But, her purse was not there. “Doctor, somebody stole my purse! I left it right there. I’m certain.”
Dr. Minsky felt a wave of cold anxiety sweep through him. No, this didn’t sound good at all. Why is Michael complaining about his purse? He didn’t have a purse. He was certain about that. Why would he even have a purse? He could feel his heart sinking. He really didn’t want to realize what appeared to be happening, or what appeared to have happened. No, no, that was absurd, wasn’t it?
“Um, uh, why don’t you wait right here a second, I need to check something.”
Marcia looked at him in shock. He needed to check something? She needed to check something, and he needed to do a lot more than that!
Dr. Minsky quickly extricated himself from Michael’s room and made his way back to Marcia. He did indeed need to check something, and he so much did not want to discover what he was thinking. As he opened the door, he was greeted by Marcia, standing up, looking as shocked as Michael, saying, “What the fuck doctor! What the fuck is this?!”
The professor asked, quite tentatively, quite anxiously, “Um, Michael?”
“Yea, doctor, Michael. At least YOU know who I am! I sure as fuck don’t. Is this some kind of social psych experiment? Do you got me in one of those fucking fat suits or something? Do you really think I’m going to walk around like this? How in the hell do I get this wig off? And where the fuck are my clothes? I sure as fuck am not going to leave here dressed like this!” Michael did not normally curse and swear. He would on occasion, when he was really upset, and this was certainly an occasion in which to be really upset. He wanted to make it real clear to the doctor that he was no longer going to participate in this experiment. He wanted to withdraw from the study. He didn’t recall that there would be anything like this in the experiment, although his memory was in general a bit foggy right now. Still, you had the right to withdraw from an experiment at any time and get full three hour credit, and he was making it real clear that he would want the full credit. He just wanted to go home and lie down.
“Yea, sure, I know. I realize that. If you would, just wait here a second. I’ll explain everything.”
As he backed out of the room, shutting the door behind him, Michael exclaimed, “I want full credit, doctor!” He felt he should in fact be crystal clear about that.
The professor slowly made his way back to what he now realized was in fact Marcia’s room. He walked slowly as he really needed time to think about this. Could this really be true? The experiment could in fact be said to be entirely successful, far more successful than anyone could ever really imagine. It frankly appeared that he had not only successfully transferred the memory of the laboratory encounter, but he had successfully transferred all memories. The glitch, of course, was that the memories had not been transferred into the central computer but instead were transferred, or rather exchanged, across the two student bodies. Marcia was now Michael, and Michael was now Marcia, or least Marcia was now in Michael’s body, and Michael was now in Marcia’s body. This was fantastic! This would be the best publication of his career! Actually, of anyone’s career. This was definitely Noble Prize material!
Still, though, he would need to calm these two students down. They did seem a bit concerned about this, perhaps even a little agitated. Everything would be alright, he kept telling himself. He would have to convince the students of that fact as well. All he had to do was to reverse the process. Of course, one wrench in that plan is that he didn’t at all know how he had done it the first time. It had been an accident. That actually wouldn’t look good in the publication. His hopes for a Noble Prize were diminishing. Still, he could probably figure that out, couldn’t he? If he could just figure that out before it became public, he could then reverse the process, get the kids into the right bodies, and then publish his findings. Everybody would be happy! Yes, yes, that’s the plan. He opened the door to Marcia’s room.
Marcia felt like crying. She was much more than concerned, she was scared. By now she had come to realize that she was not actually in her own body, and how very strange was that. She wondered if this was part of the experiment. If so, it seemed rather risky to her. She sure hoped that Dr. Minsky knew what he was doing. She wanted to get back into her own body as soon as possible! “Professor, what’s happened to me?”
“Yes, yes, Marcia, don’t worry, I can explain. No problem. This has happened before.” That was a bold lie, but he knew it was important for her to first be reassured, to relax, to remain calm. “This sometimes happens. It can feel unusual, but it’s nothing to get excited about.” He didn’t realize what a good liar he was, or at least he was himself struck at what a bald-faced lie he was providing. But, he would soon discover how good of a liar he really was.
“But, this isn’t me! I’m not me!”
“No, no, not right now, I understand. Let me explain.”
Marcia definitely wanted an explanation. She desperately wanted an explanation.
Professor Minsky explained the situation to her, and was partially honest about it. What happened is that some wires got crossed (he left out the technical details, which were really quite complicated and would only serve to confuse her, as well as himself), the system shorted out, and rather than just transfer a small social memory to the computer, she and the other experimental subject, Michael, had traded minds, or traded bodies, depending on how you looked at it.
When he finished she just stood there, looking rather dumfounded. It was quite a bit of news to swallow, to say the least. “This guy has my body?” Just saying that was shocking, and rather disgusting. Some guy, apparently one with a pimple on his cheek, is occupying her body? What was he doing with it?
“I know,” Dr. Minsky replied, “it’s a little peculiar.”
She yelled her response. “A LITTLE PECULIAR?! ARE YOU NUTS?! This is downright awful, horrible, terrible, a disaster! I can’t go to classes looking like this? What will my parents say? Who is ever going to date me now? How will I fit into my clothes? I just bought a new dress! What am I supposed to do with that?!”
These were all very good questions. Unfortunately, Dr. Minsky did not have an answer, at least for most of them.
He tried to speak in his most calm, confident, and reassuring voice. “It will be okay, Marcia, trust me. It will be fine. All we have to do is to reverse the process, and then everything will be fine.”
Well, that was reassuring, at least. The professor didn’t seem to be upset at all. He appeared to know what went wrong and how to fix it. “Oh, okay, okay, I guess. Well, good, um, let’s do it. Let’s get this done.”
“Yea, well, um, like I said, the cables shorted out, and I have to check for further damage, you know, to the mother board. So, um, well, we won’t be able to do it until, well, tomorrow.” His heart seemed to freeze as he waited for her response, her reaction. Frankly, he was not at all sure that he could even fix the apparatus, and he certainly didn’t know if he would have it running by tomorrow. It could in fact take weeks. That was what he would know tomorrow, he hoped.
Marcia didn’t like hearing that. “Well, what am I supposed to do until tomorrow?”
Dr. Minsky tried to sound comforting and unconcerned. “Well, what we’ve done in the past when this has happened, is just have the participants go along with their normal routine, do their business. Think about it like a little adventure. I mean, how many girls get to live in a guy’s body for a day, or so. It could be kind of interesting, don’t you think? Yes, yes, I’m often rather jealous about this, when it happens. I would myself like to try it sometime. Yes, yes. Um, well, just wait here a second. I need to explain all this to Michael as well.” He didn’t want to wait for her response, particularly as he had dropped a partial hint that he might not even be able to conduct the reversal tomorrow.
Marcia didn’t think it would be interesting at all. How could it be interesting? Frankly, it all sounded rather disgusting, and even more disgusting to think that this guy, Michael, whoever he was, was going to be in her body. Again, what was he going to do with it? He’ll probably go out and eat fast foods, lots of big greasy hamburgers. Where else did he get this pimple! And, he probably drank lots of beer. How much weight would he put on her before she got her body back?! Although, she did then check her, or his, tummy, and Michael did feel like he was in pretty good shape. Maybe he really wouldn’t mess it up, too badly. But, still, it was a guy! Why couldn’t it at least have been another girl?
As Dr. Minsky made his way back to Marcia’s, or Michael’s, room he realized that in future experiments he was going to need to have his participants take some Valium. These kids are really upset. He wondered though if he would in fact be able to get approval for that. To do so he would have to admit that something like this could go wrong and so it was important for the participants to remain calm, and then he would have to explain specifically what could go so wrong as to require Valium. No, he wouldn’t seek approval for a tranquilizer. He sure as heck didn’t want this glitch to get out. Maybe he should at least though have a drink available, that did always help him calm down when he was stressed. Of course, these students were not old enough to have a drink, but maybe an exception could, should, be made when you have traded bodies with someone else. A drink couldn’t hurt at a time like this, could it?
Michael was not terribly surprised by Dr. Minsky’s explanation. By the time the professor had gotten back to his room, Michael had largely figured it out. He had also found Marcia’s purse, saw the reflection of himself in her compact mirror, and found her driver’s licence with a picture of her, now him, on the card. He also found a tampon. He studied that for awhile. It was curiously quite interesting. He wondered what other little treasures might be in this purse when Dr. Minsky opened the door. He quickly laid the purse aside, tucking the tampon back inside.
After Dr. Minsky explained the circumstances Michael replied, “So, we’ll be back in our own bodies tomorrow?”
“Yes, yes,” Dr. Minsky replied, trying to sound entirely confident. “I usually have all the spare parts readily available, but the short this time was unusually severe. It’s just a matter of getting it hooked up and running again. No problem, no problem at all,” at least he sure hoped so.
Michael took a deep sigh, noticing in his lower vision how his, her, breasts rose up and swelled with his deep breath. He did it again, just to see them expand. That was kind of cool. He wanted to touch them, see how they felt, but he couldn’t really do that in front of the doctor. Wearing a woman’s body for an evening could actually be kind of interesting. “Yea, well, okay, I guess.” It wasn’t like he had a lot of choice in the matter. “I’ll get at least five hours credit for this then, won’t I?”
That was another glitch Dr. Minsky hadn’t anticipated. The fact was, he was only authorized to provide three credit hours for his experiment. He couldn’t give Michael anything more than three hours. Still, he should get some sort of compensation for this, shouldn’t he? It’s not every day that you get stuck in someone else’s body for an evening, and potentially even longer. He then had an inspiration.
“Actually, Michael, this really works out to your advantage. What I do in cases like this is turn it into an experiential independent study. What I want you, and Marcia, to do the rest of the day is to take careful notes of your experience, and return them to me when you come back. I can then publish these findings, with your approval, of course.” Frankly, this was all really quite true, or would be true. He certainly would want to learn what the experience would be like for them and their report would boost substantially the appeal of his publication, as well as providing necessary documentation. “And, in return, I will give you full credit for an independent study. That will be a full credit for a semester long independent study, but it will in fact only last one day. What do you think of that!?”
The professor did have the authority to provide that option. He could enroll any student he wanted within an independent study course. They are never monitored or audited.
Michael liked that option a lot. Credit for a whole course! He could drop biology now and still be fully enrolled. But, still, there were other important matters to clear up. “Will there be a test?”
“No, no test.”
“What grade will I get?”
“An ‘A.’ You will get an ‘A’ for the independent study, as long as you turn in your report and, of course, maintain the confidentiality of the study. You can’t let anybody know about this. It could very well ruin the study, the experiment. If anyone finds out, then you may in fact not even get a passing grade.” He couldn’t really enforce something like that, but Michael didn’t know it.
Michael though had no intention of telling anyone about this anyway. He wasn’t too sure his male friends would be entirely sympathetic about this experimental screw-up, and would in fact likely find quite a bit of humor in it, all at his expense. Plus, what girl would want to go out with a guy who was once a girl? No, he had no plans of telling anyone anyway. In fact, now that the doctor mentioned it, he had a further concern. “My name won’t be in any publication about this, will it?”
“Absolutely not, absolutely not, Michael. Complete confidentiality. Here, let’s shake hands on that. I want to reassure you absolutely on that point.” He held out his hand. “Are we agreed?”
Michael felt a bit suspicious, a bit uncertain. The professor seemed awfully anxious to close this deal. He wondered if he could get anything more out of this. But, still, credit for a full class, an ‘A” grade, and this rather cute little girly body to play with for an evening. It really didn’t sound so bad. He shook the doctor’s hand. “You got a deal, doctor,” a smile on his face.
The professor, of course, could not be happier, could not be more relieved. “Excellent, now you wait here. I just need to get Marcia to agree. We really won’t be able to do this if both of you are not on board.” That was not, of course, at all true. His publication would be fine with just one participant, but it wouldn’t hurt for Michael to feel that it was the professor who was doing Michael the favor, and that perhaps he might even need Michael to help convince Marcia.
As he strode back to Marcia he was feeling much, much better. If Marcia agreed to this he would be in the clear. All that would be left would be fixing the laboratory equipment and then reversing the process. And, really, maybe it wouldn’t be that hard. When he thought about it, it wasn’t even a matter of reversing anything. It was just a matter of doing it over, and then the result would naturally be reversed. Of course, inducing the electrical overload might be a bit risky. He would have to give that some thought, but not right now. He would have all evening to figure that out. He strode back to Marcia’s room, looking and now even feeling more confident, comfortable and assured.
As he entered her room he said, “Well, this is going well, isn’t it Marcia.”
“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!” Was this professor some sort of mad scientist? How in anyone’s mind is this going well? “I’m in some guy’s body, for goodness sake, and, even worse, he’s in mine!” Actually, it wasn’t really clear to her which was really worse. But, still, they were both pretty darned bad.
“I know, I know, but we will, I will, get this fixed, and Michael has agreed to participate in the additional study. As I explained to him, while you wait to have the process reversed I want the both of you to take careful notes of your experience, and then return them to me when you come back for the reversal. I will then publish these findings, with your approval, of course, and, in return, I will give you full credit for an independent study, with an ‘A’ grade, naturally.” He paused, waiting for her pleased and grateful reaction. “There won’t be any test,” he added.
Marcia sighed deeply, noticing how much deeper sounding her sigh was with Michael’s body. “I don’t need any independent study. I don’t need any ‘A’ grade.” That was true. Marcia was a shy girl, but she was an extremely good student. She in fact took considerable pride in her course work and in her grade point average. Independent studies didn’t really count for much, as far as she was concerned.
Well, that wasn’t the reaction he was hoping for. “Yea, well, but, um, if both of you don’t agree to participate, then Michael won’t be able to get any credit himself.”
“So? What do I care? He’s got my body, what else does he want? Hey!” She just had a sudden realization. “I’ve got a biology test in a few days. What about that? I’ve got to study for it! Or, he does, somebody does. I don’t want him messing up my GPA.”
Dr. Minsky hadn’t thought about that. That was perhaps another glitch. He had to just shoot from the hip. “Um, no, don’t worry, not a problem. When you switch back you will take with you all of your new memories. What you won’t have is any knowledge, or memory, of what happened within your body over that time.” That made sense, he hoped.
Of course, he wasn’t at all sure they would even get their own bodies back, let alone know about what would happen with any new memories.
To Marcia that sounded good, and bad. On the one hand , she really didn’t want to know what this guy might do with her body. It would be like putting on the dirty clothes that someone else had been wearing. Do you really want to know how the clothes got dirty? On the other hand, she of course did want to know. She loaned a dress to a girl friend last week. It came back with a pretty odd stain. She wondered about that, and her body was considerably more important to her than the skirt. Although, still, she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know all of the details regarding that stain. She would like to think that it was just some sort of spilled drink, but the splatter didn’t really suggest that. She immediately got it cleaned, wishing that her friend had cleaned it first so that she would have never known about the stain. Similarly, maybe she would rather not know at all what this Michael guy does with her body, and he sure as heck better take a shower before he comes back in tomorrow!
It was at least unambiguously good to hear that if she studied tonight she would retain the memories when the switch was made the next day. “Well, okay, that’s good, I guess.” There was though something that was still troubling her, besides the obvious one of not being in the right body. “Nobody is gonna hear about this, are they?”
“What?”
“Nobody is going to hear about him being in my body, are they? I don’t want this to get around. If he tells anyone, he’s going to be in big trouble!” She also felt that the professor sure as heck should, and would, get into big trouble if he told anyone, but she wasn’t comfortable threatening him directly. She assumed that he understood that she meant, by implication, him as well as Michael.
“Oh no, no, nobody, dear, not at all.” He couldn’t believe his luck. He had been terribly fearful of getting caught, of having to file an incident report. But, the girl wanted it to be secret and Michael had agreed for it to be secret in order to get the independent study credit. He was at least safe in this regard.
Marcia was relieved. Imagine the embarrassment, the shame, to be the girl whose body was possessed, was owned, was used, by a boy for a full evening. Something like that would spread pretty fast across campus and likely be the brunt of quite a bit of teasing, if not outright shunning. Talk about being damaged goods, being used and tossed aside. You can hardly claim to be pure and innocent, to be a virgin, to be a good girl, if some guy fully and completely possessed your body for 24 hours. She shuddered to think of what he might in fact do with it. No, she really, really didn’t want to know, and she definitely didn’t want anyone else to know. “He signed something, to say that he won’t tell anyone about any of this? You made him sign, like an agreement?” She wanted to be very certain. If Dr. Minsky didn’t agree to full confidentiality, then she would herself file a complaint. There must be some sort of confidentiality rule for research participants, isn’t there?
“Well, he hasn’t signed anything. We shook hands on it though.”
“He’s gotta sign something.”
“Yes, yes, I agree. I’m sure that’s no problem. I’ll write up a little contract, a legal contract. I’ll do it right away, and then both of you can sign it. I’m sure he’ll sign it.”
“And you won’t say anything to anyone?”
“Not a word. Of course, I will someday write a scientific report on this, but your identity will be kept confidential. I’ll change the names and even provide wrong details of physical appearance that will lead persons astray if they try to figure out who you two are.”
Actually, Marcia did feel it would be kind of cool to actually be in a scientific report, to be the subject of the report. It was kind of like being the first heart transplant patient. Talk about making a contribution to science! She had second thoughts of it being confidential, at least at that point. She would want it to remain confidential though while she was still a student at Livingston. “Well, okay then.”
“Excellent! I’ll get the contracts put together right away.”
“And, I’ll also get the independent study credit as well?” She didn’t really need the credit, but if she was going to do this then she might as well get the credit. It wouldn’t hurt and, besides, she wanted to let the professor know that she wasn’t a pushover.
“Sure, sure, of course, but, then, well, I will want your report.”
“Oh yes, of course, certainly.” She didn’t mind doing that. In fact, it would be kind of cool to read the professor’s scientific article when it came out, and then see something in it that she had written. Her parents would be really proud of that! But, then, of course, she was unlikely to tell them about it. Well, maybe she could tell just them, later on, when the report came out.
“Excellent, just wait here and I’ll get the contracts prepared.”
“And, hey, wait, I want my purse. He’s got my purse, I guess, over there.” She wasn’t quite sure where he in fact was.
“Oh yes, yes, of course. In fact, would you like to meet him?”
“No way!” Whoa! Imagine how weird that would be, to actually meet yourself, or at least your body, being worn by someone else. Plus, it would be such a concrete reminder that this guy had her body. What if her hair was all messed up? Would he fix it? Actually, maybe she should see him. He obviously wouldn’t know how to fix her hair or make-up. No, no. She really didn’t want to see him or, more accurately, herself. It was just too weird.
The professor was a little surprised at her adamant declination. He thought it might in fact be kind of fun for them, like twins meeting each other for the very first time. He really liked that Disney movie, “The Parent Trap.” But, he was not about to push his luck. In fact, he felt tremendously lucky. Both of these students were now willing to swear to confidentiality, albeit for different reasons. Marcia was in fact insisting on it. He could not believe that he was going to get through this. In fact, not only was he going to get through this, but he might indeed have made the scientific achievement of a lifetime! His heart beat with a frenzied excitement as he rushed to his office to prepare the contracts.
It didn’t take long. He just had to modify Independent Study contracts to further emphasize and require complete confidentiality. He then moved quickly to Michael. He would have him sign first, and then show the signature to Marcia.
Michael was sitting patiently in the easy chair when the professor arrived. As soon as he had left to speak to Marcia, Michael had instantly grabbed one of Marcia’s boobs. Actually, whose boob was it now? It was just too weird to say it was his boob, but it really was his boob at this point in time, wasn’t it? In any case, he felt such a rush of excitement, of pleasure, as soon as he grasped it. His first tit! He was grasping, groping his first boob! Man, if only he still had his cock, he could stroke his dick at the same time. He began to reach under her skirt, realizing that, holy crap, there was something a heck of a lot more interesting under there!
But, then, he suddenly stopped, letting go of his tit as well. He looked around the room. He didn’t see any cameras. But, experiments are often recorded. There was even a big mirror embedded in the wall. It was obviously a one-way window, and on his side it was a mirror. There could be somebody looking at him right now, filming him. This whole thing could be some tricky experiment. Whether it was or it wasn’t, he really didn’t want the doctor, or anyone else, seeing him play with himself. Of course, it would look like she was playing with herself, but still, they would know it was him.
He wondered if that would in fact be some sort of sexual assault or molestation, or something. Is it against the law to feel up someone else’s body when you’re actually in the body? It’s not really her body anymore, is it? He recalled that court case in Dr. Briere’s class in which a woman with multiple personality disorder claimed she was raped by a guy because when she consented she was somebody else. It wasn’t her real self, or at least the one that was there from the beginning, who would not have consented. She actually won that case, Michael recalled. This might not be much different.
But, man, how could the doctor expect him, really, to keep his hands off?
When the professor returned with the forms, Michael quickly signed them and handed over to the doctor Marcia’s purse. As he did so, he suddenly realized there were a few remaining questions. “Hey, doc, um, like where am I supposed to stay? Should I go to her apartment? I mean, like, I don’t have any clothes to wear, other than these. What will I wear tomorrow?”
‘Crap!’ the professor thought. This keeps getting more and more complicated, although perhaps he really shouldn’t be too surprised. It wasn’t like he had planned this through from the beginning. “Yea, you’re right, excuse me. Let’s see, uh, the two of you can exchange keys to your apartments. Do you live alone?”
“Yea, sure. I’m a junior.” Many of the students at Livingston still lived with their parents. If they didn’t do that, most of the remaining students lived in a dorm. However, many of the juniors and seniors lived in apartment complexes. They were not the most expensive, desirable apartments in which one would want to reside, but they were certainly affordable. Living by oneself for the first time was such a treat, even if the accommodations are not so good.
“Okay, okay,” he said. “Um, let’s see.” He looked inside Marcia’s purse. Her keys were there. He wasn’t sure though which one on the key chain was her apartment key and so he just handed all of them to Michael. “I’ll get, um,” for a moment he was getting confused as to whose keys he was getting, “Michael’s keys, your keys, from Marcia. I’ll be right back.”
He hurried back to Marcia, thinking that this would be so much easier if they just worked it out themselves, or even just moved in with each other. But, obviously, Marcia wasn’t about to do that. She didn’t even want to see Michael, let alone live with him.
Marcia was relieved to get her purse back, and she quickly went through it. It wasn’t like she was expecting anything to be missing, but she did wonder if that guy had been looking in it. Her face flushed as she saw the tampon, realizing that he had seen that. But, in fact, something was missing! “My key! My keys! Where are my keys?”
‘Geez,’ this girl really is a problem. “I gave them to Michael.” Was an explanation really necessary? “We figure, I figure, that the two of you would trade places until you get switched back.” Speaking matter-of-factly, “That’s how we usually handle it, when something like this happens.”
“Yea, well, that’s not what’s going to happen now.” Marcia was surprised at how assertive she was. She wondered if it was because she was in a boy’s body. They do tend to be more forceful. She almost smiled to herself, thinking that she could now even perhaps beat some other guy up. Boys do that, you know, and it can be pretty impressive how tough and strong they are. But, imagine, returning his body with a black eye. He probably wouldn’t like that, but maybe it might serve him right, assuming that he wouldn’t be entirely respectful of her body. In any case, she was not about to have him move into her apartment. “I’m not going to have him poking around my bedroom. It’s bad enough that he can poke around my body.” Her face went beet red just from saying such a thing. “I’m not going to have some strange guy in my room, going through my things. My goodness, doctor, he would be able to see my undies, my things, my diary!”
Dr. Minsky restrained himself from pointing out that he could already see one of her panties and brassiere. He was in fact wearing them, and would soon see what was underneath them. Still, he understood her concern about a diary, and perhaps there might be other things within her room that were of a personal nature, her “things” as she put it. And besides, each of them would probably be more comfortable in their own places. “Yea, yea, sure, we do it that way sometimes as well,” he lied. “You can stay in your own places, if you wish. Here, look, why don’t you empty your pockets and I’ll bring everything over to Michael, and then I’ll get from him everything that was in your pockets, plus I’ll get the keys back. Okay? Will that be okay?” He hoped the impatience in his voice wasn’t too obvious.
Marcia thought about that for awhile, wondering what she did in fact have in her pockets, in her skirt and blouse. She didn’t actually have anything terribly personal there. The tampon was the worst thing, and she had that back. “Okay, I guess.”
She reached into his pockets, shuddering a bit at the thought of what might be in there. What if there was some condom, or something. Or, probably a dirty handkerchief with snot all over it. But, it turned out to be pretty inconsequential. Just some pens, his keys, change, chapstick, a comb, and his billfold in a backpocket. She cursed herself for not having looked through that while the professor was out of the room. She might have been able to find out something about this guy.
She handed everything over to him, and studied the contract as he rushed back to Michael with the goods.
When he got there he explained the situation. Michael had in fact been wondering about this problem himself. He really would feel better being in his own apartment. He doubted that she had any of his computer games and, even if she did, he would need her password to get to them. Plus, he wasn’t too excited about her discovering his collection of magazines deep inside his closet or, even worse, his collection of movies on his jumpdrive, if her snooping did in fact go that far. Certainly he would go that far if he was in her apartment. What else could he do while he was hanging around there, waiting for the equipment to be repaired.
He handed over her keys, emptied her pockets, which didn’t have much in them, just some kitkats (he did like them), some gum, a pen, some change, and other inconsequential things. Much of her good stuff had been in the purse.
But, now there was still that same problem. “Doctor, what am I going to wear tomorrow? This body is too small for my clothes. And, you know, I might have to go out for something, like for food.”
It just kept getting more complicated. “Yea, well, um….I’ll see if she’ll loan you some of her clothes, and make-up, and things. Anything else you might need, you just call me. I’ll give you my number,” he said as he wrote it on Michael’s copy of the contract.
“Make-up?! I don’t know nothing about no make-up, doctor, and I sure don’t want to be putting on any make-up.” That seemed rather gay to him. Obviously, none of his friends wore make-up. Boy, he was definitely glad that this was all confidential, at least this part of it in particular.
“Yea, well, um, I’ll be right back. I need to give Marcia her keys.” He didn’t know what to say. He also didn’t know how to put on make-up. He couldn’t help Michael with that. He wondered if he should contact his colleague, Professor Kluft. She might be willing to help, but he quickly rejected that option. He really didn’t want to get anyone else involved in this, or at least aware of it, not until it was resolved.
Marcia was relieved to get her keys back. She handed the professor the signed contract. He was very relieved to get that. But, not surprisingly, she now had additional concerns. “Professor, what if my friends call me up or come over?”
“Well, you could pretend you’re sick whenever a friend calls, or at least just not feeling that well to go out.”
“But if they call, it won’t be my voice answering the phone.”
“Yes, that’s right, you’ve got laryngitis, or a cold. Just talk in a hoarse whisper.”
It sounded rather flimsy, but it wasn’t like she had a lot of choices here.
“Well, okay then, I guess. Well, um, okay then.” She knew that there must be a hundred more questions, but she couldn’t come up with one. “I come back here, tomorrow, and you’ll be all set?”
“Yes, yes, that’s right.”
“Alright then, I guess.”
“Yes, and, well,” the professor added, “I’ll stop by your place this evening, just to see how everything is going, and to pick up some clothes, for Michael.”
“What?”
“A change of clothes. He’s going to need more clothes than he has now, and he certainly can’t wear his own.”
He did have a point there, but this was really going too far. “Hey, he’s got my body and now he wants my clothes?” It was going to be bad enough getting her body back after this guy had been in it. She didn’t want any reminders of the clothes he was wearing. She doubted that she would ever again wear the clothes he was wearing now, and certainly wasn’t going to hand over any more panties or brassieres and, of course, there was no way he was touching her nighties. Why would he even need them? “If he needs some clothes then you buy them for him.” A boy’s body can be really so assertive.
“Yea, yea, sure,” Dr. Minsky replied with some frustration. But, he knew he shouldn’t be surprised. Girls can be awfully picky about their clothes. He now just wanted to get this girl out of there before any other problems came up. He handed her another sheet of paper upon which to put her sizes, for virtually everything he might need. This might cost a pretty penny, he thought. And, to include her address and phone number. He did want to keep in touch, just in case a problem did arise, and especially to keep her in line. He also provided his own phone number and address. “Excellent, yes, well, I believe we’re all set.”
“Yea, I suppose so,” she replied, with considerably less certainty and confidence than him. Marcia walked tentatively and reluctantly from the lab to the door in which she had arrived, her legs a little shaky, a little wobbly, her mind a little confused. She had come into this lab a young lady, and she was now leaving a young man. It was rather disconcerting. He sure as heck better have this thing fixed tomorrow, she thought.
Professor Minsky watched her depart, noticing that “he” looked rather odd as a guy, walking along with Marcia’s purse. Marcia apparently hadn’t thought about that, nor was he about to point it out. Instead, he rushed back to Michael. “Okay then, we’re all set. Marcia has headed home. I’ve got her size and measurements. We can go out and get you some clothes.” It just dawned on him that Marcia hadn’t asked anything about Michael’s clothes. “Um, and maybe we can stop by your place to pick up some clothes for her?”
“Why doesn’t she just give me some of her clothes?”
“Yea, well, she wasn’t entirely comfortable with that.”
Michael was surprised to hear that. He was already in her body, wearing her clothes. What difference would an another outfit make? But, you can never predict what will bother a girl. “Yea, well, alright.”
“Excellent. Here, let’s get going. We can head over to Walmart for some clothes, and then I’ll drive you home.”
“What about the make-up?”
Nuts! He had been so anxious to finish up with Marcia that he had forgotten to ask her about that, although frankly that might have even been subconsciously intentional. He knew that she wouldn’t volunteer to help Michael with the make-up.
He lied once again. “Actually, she said it’s not a problem, that she doesn’t wear much make-up, a little rouge, eyeshadow, nothing much. We can pick up some of that as well at Walmart. You’ll be fine.”
“Sure, sure,” Michael replied, not feeling entirely comfortable about this.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Michael became even less comfortable as they strode into Walmart. He felt like he was a guy dressed as a girl, and that he might be discovered as such. How embarrassing would that be! Being caught wearing girls’ clothes, all the way down to panties and brassiere. He did though wonder what her panties and brassiere looked like. He still hadn’t seen them, and he was especially curious about what was underneath.
He quickly realized though that he couldn’t get caught. Where was the proof it was him rather than her? Well, there was his wallet in the pocket of her skirt. Nevertheless, he would obviously be unable to convince anyone that it really was him even if he wanted to, rather than have to explain how and why he got into her body.
However, what if they came across one of her friends? What would he do then? He wouldn’t be able to even recognize them, let alone pretend he was her. They really should have spent some time together before they separated, trading information and the like. “We better not take long, doctor,” he asserted. “One of her friends could be here.”
That was a good point. Frankly, the professor as well was feeling rather uncomfortable about this. What if one of his colleagues saw him? Michael was right. They shouldn’t stay here long. He was taking Michael to Walmart largely because he didn’t want to spend much money, and plus it was a rather anonymous store. He really didn’t want a saleswoman poking her nose around them, asking all sorts of questions, wondering why this older man was buying clothes for this young, attractive coed, and you could do a lot of shopping at Walmart without ever speaking to a salesperson.
Still, if he ran into a colleague of his, how would he explain this? Professors generally don’t take undergraduates out to buy dresses, blouses, panties, brassieres, and make-up. That would not look good at all. He could perhaps say that she was his niece, but isn’t that such an old and obvious deception? Uncles don’t buy all these things for nieces either. He hoped that none of the other faculty shopped at Walmart. They probably didn’t. “Yea, yea, let’s not waste any time.”
They hurried through the various sections. The professor suggested that they split up, but there wasn’t anything on the list that Michael felt competent to purchase on his own. He suggested that he just wait in the car, but the professor nixed that. He wasn’t about to be buying all these things by himself. Plus, what if Michael had to try something on?
“There is no way, doctor, that I am going to try something on.” He was dying to see what he looked like underneath the blouse and skirt, but he was not going to model new outfits for him.
The algorithms for size, though, were so darned confusing. She wrote down that she was a miss petite 12. What the heck did that mean? The professor repeatedly held up dresses, blouses, and skirts against Michael, checking to see if they looked like they would fit, embarrassing Michael all the more. The professor though was so glad that Michael hadn’t waited in the car. He couldn’t make any sense of this.
Michael insisted on the professor buying a few of everything. He wasn’t at all sure how well anything would fit and so he wanted some options. The professor could see money drifting away as Michael tossed stuff into the shopping cart. Well, he would more than make up for this loss once the article was published.
The brassieres were the most difficult. Marcia hadn’t provided her breast size (she wasn’t about to tell them that). Perhaps he didn’t really need to buy her more brassieres. How often does a girl wear a brassiere before she washes it? Well, he knew he should buy at least one pair. “Michael,” he whispered, “at least just go to a dressing room and see what the size is. It’s on the brassiere you’re wearing.”
“Can I help you sir?” the saleslady asked. Just when you don’t want one, one does arrive.
“Oh, um, no, yes, well.”
She could see that the man was having a difficult time buying clothes for his daughter. His cart was laden with all sorts of clothes: skirts, dresses, blouses. She had to work hard not to giggle at the sight of him fumbling with the brassieres. He clearly didn’t know what he was doing, and his daughter was not being particularly helpful, repeatedly scowling at him. “Well, now, sweetie,” she asked, “what is your size?”
“What?” Maybe it would be a good idea to go to a dressing room. Not only would he extricate himself from this very awkward situation but he would then finally have his chance to look under these clothes.
The saleswoman could see that the young lady was feeling a bit awkward about this. She had to admit that she found it rather curious herself to have a father buying clothes for a young lady. She must be in her late teens, if not early twenties. She could certainly buy her own brassieres at this point. Well, she didn’t want to make her feel any less uncomfortable. She took the man by the arm and drew him a bit away from her, to whisper, “I believe she is probably about a 34B, sir, but you know, maybe perhaps she might feel better if she purchased these things herself.”
He could feel his heart pounding. This was precisely what he was worried about. “Yea, yea, you’re right. You’re right. I’m sorry. Here, I’ll, um…go over there, um, I need to get some slacks myself,” and then quickly left the saleswoman with Michael.
Michael did not appreciate that. “Hey, where’re you going?!”
He said over his shoulder as he was walking away, “Just got to get a few more things of my own, dear. The nice saleslady will help you,” and quickly extricated himself from the situation.
The saleswoman furrowed her brow as she noticed no wedding ring on the man’s hand. He must be an uncle or something, which actually made better sense for why he is being so awkward and clumsy about this. She turned to the girl, “I could see that was a bit awkward for you. 34B, isn’t it?”
Michael thought they were a lot larger than that, but he wasn’t about to dispute the saleswoman. “Geeez, yea, man, why does he have to be here.” He realized that just speaking the truth was actually a good lie in this situation.
The saleswoman felt this girl spoke less ladylike than she would have expected, given her rather petite, feminine appearance, but adolescent girls these days are a bit more outspoken and strident than they were in her day. Plus, he had obviously been making her feel very uncomfortable. “Is he your uncle?” It really wasn’t any of her business, but she was a little curious and, frankly, a bit concerned. Something about this just didn’t seem right.
“Yea, yea,” Michael responded. “I’m just visiting, thinking of going to college here. He’s a professor, here that is, and, um, all my luggage got lost, on the flight, all of it.” He waited to see if that worked. It was the best he could do.
Apparently it did. “Oh, my goodness. I’m so sorry! That can be so frustrating. That’s happened to me as well.” It still didn’t make sense why he was accompanying her as she purchased a brassiere. Still, some men, especially older, single men can be really dense when it came to women, particularly young women. “Well, here, honey, we have some very pretty brassieres over here that are just your size. And, our panties, are over there.” She decided she would leave her on her own. She was obviously old enough to do her own shopping.
Michael strolled over to the brassieres. Frankly, they did look kind of cool. It was like a colorful treasure trove of feminine frilly delights. Like any young man, his eyes would linger as he passed a display of brassieres in a store, trying not to look obvious as his eyes looked right while his feet walked forward, slowing down a bit to enjoy the colorful frilly scenery. Now he could just gaze upon them, study them as close and as long as he wanted. And, he did just that, contemplating all the various sizes, colors, textures, and shapes. There were full cup brassieres. He didn’t really like them. But, these sexy half-cup ones, with all the lace, now they were pretty darned cool. Boy, would he look sexy in these. Of course, as soon as he thought that he realized how weird it was. Still, he could feel a warmth in his briefs thinking about it. Briefs? No actually, his panties. Well, he again felt weird. He selected about ten brassieres, all sorts of different colors and styles. If the professor was buying why not go whole hog. Plus, these could make for pretty good souvenirs when this was all done.
He draped them over his arm, feeling a bit awkward to be doing that in a public store, but realizing that it really wouldn’t look awkward for a girl. He proceeded to the panties, and then caught the eye of a couple of boys looking at him, looking at the pretty girl with the short skirt, tight sweater, perky boobs, carrying a ton of brassieres over her arm. Frankly, they seemed to be more leering than looking, and he glared back at them. They quickly looked away. He couldn’t really blame them, of course. He would have done the same thing, as a guy. But, as a girl, he didn’t really appreciate it.
When he got to the panties he was again stuck. What the heck were these sizes? The doctor said she was a petite 12. But, the size 12 panties looked awfully big to him. Frankly, it seemed to him that she was well on the small size, hence the word ‘petite.’ She wished the saleslady was still there. He could ask her. But, he then realized he really shouldn’t ask her. At his age, a junior in college, he really should know his own panty size. Although, what was her age? He didn’t even know that. He knew she was a college student, like himself, but for all he knew she could just be a freshman. Well, no matter what class she was in, she most certainly would be at least 18 and would have to know her own panty size.
He studied the panties for quite awhile. He actually didn’t mind doing that. These were even more fun to consider, to feel, to explore, to fondle. He probably should, though, go to the dressing room to see what size he was currently wearing. The warmth in his thighs was getting stronger and stronger. He knew that if he still had his own body, he would be sporting quite a big erection right now. One advantage of being a girl is that you can get pretty darned excited without anyone being the wiser.
The professor appeared behind him. The saleslady had drifted far away, around a corner and out of sight, and he wanted Michael to hurry it up. “C’mon, c’mon, pick something out and let’s get going,” he urged. He didn’t feel this was going so well, and he was getting more worried about bumping into someone he knew, or knew her.
Michael was annoyed. He was finally beginning to enjoy this and now the professor wanted him to hurry it up. He decided to take two sizes: 2 and 4, plus quite a few options within each size. He didn’t select as carefully as he had done with the brassieres, but he still got quite a variaty.
“What are you doing?” the professor complained. “You don’t need all of those!” He knew that girls tended to buy a lot more clothes than they really needed, but this was a boy for goodness sake. Maybe his mind was becoming more feminine the longer he was in her body? That would make sense, but it concerned him. When he returned the students back to their own bodies he was assuming that there would be no lasting harm from occupying the body of the opposite sex, but perhaps that was naive. Michael was so far, up to this point, rolling with the punches, but he wondered how Marcia would take to becoming more masculine.
Michael though was not becoming more feminine, or at least he didn’t think so. In any case, it was his male gender that motivated him to buy all of these panties. They would again be another great souvenir. And, besides, he kind of liked sticking it to the doctor. “I don’t know what size I am, and I gotta have a fresh pair, don’t I?”
He was right about that, the professor acknowledged. But, it was like he was buying enough for a whole week. Still, given that he didn’t really know if he would have the apparatus fixed by tomorrow, a few more extra panties might not be a bad idea. Of course, why couldn’t the boy wear his own underwear? Who was going to look under his skirt?
Well, he didn’t really want to get into an argument with Michael in the store. What if that saleslady came back? Besides, the cost of a few extra panties was more than outweighed by the benefits, prizes, and rewards he would receive with the publication of this study. In fact, the garments, as part of the study, would also be tax deductible. He really shouldn’t be so restrictive. Let the young man buy anything he wanted. He needed to keep his eye on the ultimate prize, the Noble Prize.
Michael dumped all of the panties and brassieres into the shopping cart. It was getting pretty full. They stayed only a short time within the make-up section. Michael was not the least bit interested in this, but the professor did say that they should get some things, like perfume, rouge, eyeliner, and mascara. But, the selection was so difficult and they were so worried about that saleslady returning. The professor just grabbed what looked like the closest to what she, he, was currently wearing. But, even the lipstick seemed awfully difficult to match.
With that last set of purchases they appeared to be done. They now only had to get through the checkout line and they would be home free. The professor, though, noticed one additional matter as they passed through feminine health care and beauty products. “Do you think she, um, you, well, need some feminine hygiene products?”
“What?!” Michael’s face turned a deep red, as he glanced over to where the doctor was gesturing. There were all sorts of things: sprays, douches, powders, lotions, and soaps, all for what was in between his legs. He had no fucking idea, and he had no fucking interest in any of them. “No fucking way, doc,” he spoke with considerable authority, and not at all sounding like Marcia.
The professor could hardly blame him, but he felt he should at least bring it up. He wondered if he should bring this up with Marcia. He was intending on calling her that evening, to see if she was doing fine, or at least holding to the agreement, the contract. And, there was one quite important matter. “Yea, well, we should at least get some tampons.”
Michael looked away in mortified embarrassment. He felt like a prepubescent girl out with her father, shopping for her first tampons, or at least he imagined that its got to feel pretty much just like this if your dad took you out to purchase them for the first time. He started to walk faster, trying to separate himself from this man. He really didn’t want to talk to him about this, although he had to admit that he did see a tampon in Marcia’s purse. Maybe it was the time of month for her? For all he knew she might have one stuck up in there right now? What a screw that would be! He gets a girl’s body for the evening and she’s on the rag the whole time! If he was renting it, he would definitely ask for his money back.
The professor could see his embarrassment, but he did reach over and pick up a box. He had no idea though what size to purchase. Why did there have to be different sizes for these as well? Well, actually, it made sense to him that there would be different sizes and he certainly didn’t begrudge Marcia for not telling him her tampon size. Although, when he did pick up one of the boxes, they didn’t really seem to be different sizes more than they were different strengths, plus there were different applicators (plastic and cardboard), scented and unscented (he picked scented, that sounded nice), and then four different degrees of flow: lite, regular, super, and super plus. She was awfully petite, so he doubted he would need the heaviest size. But, in a matter such as this, it was best to err in the direction of too much rather than too little protection.
“Doctor,” Michael complained, standing down at the end of the aisle. “Hurry it up, that saleslady is coming back.” She actually wasn’t, but he wanted him to end this now. He was taking much too long to pick something that there was no way he was going to use. Although, actually, if it was happening, he knew he didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter. He felt like telling him that the next time he does this experiment he should really screen out the girls that are on their periods.
The doctor grabbed a box for super flow: Pearl, plastic, super scented. That seemed good. He dropped it into the cart and they made their way to the check-out line. Michael stood off by the side. He didn’t want to even watch him buy the tampons while he was standing right there.
The cashier was a bit surprised at the extent of the purchase. The number of blouses and skirts weren’t that unusual, but so many brassieres and panties, and two different sizes. Well, she had seen worse.
The two of them were rather quiet on the ride to Michael’s apartment.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
As soon as Marcia had left the research building she opened her purse, retrieved her compact mirror and studied the face. She had not yet been able to see what she now looked like.
‘Goodness,’ she thought, ‘he is cute.’ That was at least something. He has dark, thick wavy hair, a sharp, rough, manly chin, even with a bit of stubble (now it didn’t seem so bad to her; in fact, it looked kind of nice in the mirror), and really nice, sweet, even romantic blue eyes. Well, at least she had been put into a nice body. That was some sort of consolation.
But, she then realized that she, or he, was holding a purse. That would have to look awfully weird. She clutched it to her side, hiding it with both hands as she quickly made her way back to her apartment. She lived alone, which was certainly good, given her situation. As she made her way to the second floor location of her apartment she briefly worried about someone seeing her, or him, entering her apartment, but just as quickly got over it. He could easily just be a relative, a cousin or, even better, maybe a boyfriend. She didn’t mind her neighbors thinking that she had a cute boyfriend, and even one who now had a key to her apartment.
Tammie, who lived across from her, had tried to set her up with a guy a couple of times. It obviously didn’t work. She didn’t mind Tammie trying but she really hated blind dates: all the tension over whether he would like you, whether he would think you were pretty enough, whether he might obviously just want to end the date as soon as possible. Plus, the conversations on blind dates were just awful. They would both try so hard to pretend like what a surprise it was that they were such a great match, and isn’t Tammie a wonderful person, when in fact by the end of the evening they were largely bored, the novelty had worn off, and they were noticing things they didn’t like in each other. They promised to get in touch, but they never did, and both hoped that they wouldn’t run into each other again, which made it difficult going out with Tammie. Well, this might at least end that. Perhaps she should even stop by to see Tammie, introduce herself, himself, my self, as a guy, as a guy dating Marcia. This was a little hard to get used to.
As soon as Marcia got into her apartment she felt so much better. All around her were things she recognized, the things that were hers, the things that defined who she was, as a girl. She instantly went to her bedroom to get out of these boy clothes and into one of her own outfits. She knew she would feel a whole lot better when she was wearing a nice frilly dress, a pretty blouse, perhaps even put on some perfume and make-up, making her feel, once again, like the girl she really was.
She tore off his shoes and socks, noticing with disgust that one of the socks had a hole in it. What is it with guys anyway? Don’t they have any self-respect? She then took of his shirt, and stopped. ‘Goodness,’ she thought, ‘he does have a nice chest.’ She paused for awhile to admire its muscle tone, its strength. She went over to her wall mirror and stood before it. ‘Whoa! He is not only cute, but gosh darned muscular and manly.’ She clenched her chest muscles, admiring how toned and crisp they were. She turned to the side: not a bit of a paunch, really nice abdomen. She ran her fingers along his stomach muscles. He was even a bit ripped. She stood facing the mirror again and raised up her arms, clenching, squeezing her, his, biceps in the traditional muscle pose. It was a silly pose, but it really looked kind of nice.
Her interest, her curiosity, went somewhere else, someplace a bit more interesting, someplace even more masculine than his chest and muscles. Her heart began to race as she slowly undid the buckle of his belt, the button for his slacks, and slid down the zipper. ‘Oh my goodness!’ she thought. She was actually taking down a boy’s pants! It was a little strange watching herself do it, and certainly even more strange doing it to herself, as the boy, but that did not diminish the drama, the excited expectation. If anything, it made it even more intense, watching herself do it. Plus, she was by herself. She was feeling no pressure of the boy’s watchful eyes, wondering what he was thinking, worrying what he was thinking. She could explore this boy all by herself. Perhaps the professor had been right, perhaps this might be interesting; in fact, real, real interesting.
She pulled down his slacks, stepped out of them, and turned back to the mirror. Now he looked a little silly, standing there in his jockey briefs. Jockey briefs were for boys, weren’t they? Didn’t real men where boxers? These were the undies that her little brother wore. It was a little disappointing. Nevertheless, he did still look awfully cute, standing there in his briefs. She could now see his muscular thighs, and more fully appreciate his narrow waist. She turned to the side. He even had a bit of bulge, and her face reddened as she gazed at it.
She had never actually seen a naked boy’s penis before. Well, that’s not at all true. She had seen plenty of pictures of them. It’s kind of hard to avoid them on the internet, even when you wanted to. Well, that’s also not true. You did have to look for them, but they were pretty easy to find. But, she had never seen one in real life before. She could feel a strange sensation in her, his, loins, his crotch, a sense of growing energy, even movement. ‘Oh my goodness,’ she realized, ‘he’s, I’m, getting a boner?!’
She pulled down his underwear, kicked them aside, and returned to look in the mirror.
And, there it was, just beginning to swell, standing out from her a bit, like a big, thick, heavy, worm. Well, that wasn’t the best word for it. It was a lot bigger than a worm. It was more like a snake, but she didn’t care for that word either. Whatever it was, it was intriguing, to say the least. She wrapped her fingers around it, and a spark of instant pleasure coursed through her body. ‘Whoa! This does feel good!’
She placed her thumb just below the lip of the crown and her fingers along beneath the head and stem, squeezed it tenderly, and began to stroke it softly, up and down, up and down, up and down. It immediately began to swell further and further and further, growing before her eyes. ‘Wow,’ she thought, ‘this is so impressive, and it feels so darned good!’
She knew of course that penises could get really, really big, but somehow she had not expected, imagined, it could be this impressive, or feel this good. She gripped it tighter, stroked it harder. Michael was apparently not circumcised and she noticed how she could use the foreskin to really stimulate that soft, round swollen bulb. Boy, wouldn’t it be so nice to have some lips wrapped around that, kissing that? She wasn’t sure right now whose lips. She just knew that wet, soft lips would sure feel awfully good.
In any case, she certainly knew now why boys liked to masturbate. She heard from her friends, as far back as in high school, that boys masturbated a lot. She had done so a few times herself; well, even more than a few times. It did feel good, awfully good, and she wasn’t suggesting, thinking, that it’s better for a boy than for a girl. Perhaps it felt better right now because this was the first time she masturbated as a boy, and the first time is often the most intensely pleasurable. But, still, it was so, so cool to see this thing get bigger and bigger and bigger, swelling up so hard that it looked like it might just burst through its own skin! Talk about a visual demonstration of your excited state! She was really impressed.
When she felt she had gotten it about as big as it would get she let go to admire it, to study it, in the mirror. She loved it! She really did love it. Well, that was a bit much. It wasn’t like she wanted to date it, to marry it, to have children with it. Actually, that was kind of what you did with it, didn’t you? After you married him? Well, it was a little early in her relationship with this erect penis to be thinking of children. In fact, if there is one sure way of scaring away a guy, it would be to talk about marriage and children on the first date, and she sure didn’t want him to lose his proud stiffness. Of course, it was also rather obvious that whatever might slacken him, she could bring him back into action pretty easily and quickly.
She swung her body back and forth, watching his stiff dick swing left and right, like it was a crane on a reckless tractor. She jumped up and down, watching it bob and bounce. It looked a little funny, but it was still so cool! You could probably do a lot with these things.
She stepped up closer to the mirror, to study the erect penis more closely. She was really impressed by the head, the crown. It was so large, so swollen, so purple. It was like the crown of a big, bad battering ram, split down the middle by a deep fissure, through which he would deliver his seed, his sperm, his, dare she say it, his cum.
She reached with her, his, left hand to grasp his balls. She lurched and bent over with pain. She had grabbed them too eagerly, too hard. She stood back up, and more gently felt, fondled, and cradled them. It was from these that his sperm, his seed, his cum, was generated. It was from these that he would make a baby, a baby for his wife. For such an important organ they felt so soft, so vulnerable. Leave it to a guy to be the weakest where he makes his babies. Well, that really wasn’t his fault, was it.
She took hold of his cock again with her right hand, and softly stroked it while she also fondled his balls with her left. This really did feel awfully, awfully good. Her eyes half closed, losing herself in the blissful sensation of her masturbation. She imagined what it would be like to put this thing up inside a girl’s vagina, her vagina. She had put things up her vagina herself, of course. Certainly her finger(s) a number of times. She even had a little woman’s helper in the back of her bedside table drawer. But, she now realized how good it would feel, to the penis, what was now her penis, to have it slide up inside such a warm, wet, tight channel. Oh, to have one right now, tightly gripping this, this, this, big hard cock!
She opened her eyes, and stopped. She was breathing so heavily. Her heart was racing. She wondered if she had ever felt this sexually aroused, this excited before. Well, she knew she had, but she sure now appreciated the lust of a boy. As one of her professors had said, you never really know somebody until you walk inside their shoes. Well, she was doing a bit more than that right now.
She paused to regain her composure, and to again admire herself, or him, in the mirror. Wouldn’t it be nice to have both of them, both a penis and a vagina, a cock and a cunnie? Imagine being able to do it to yourself, with yourself. It was a rather perverse thought, perhaps, and she was kind of surprised that she was thinking such a thing, but wearing a guy’s naked body, sporting an awfully impressive erection, will take a girl’s mind in new directions.
She suddenly wondered how truly impressive his penis really was. She rushed over to her vanity table, where she kept her sewing things, her stout pole waving before her, giggling at the sight of the stiff thing swinging around, and once there she pulled out a measuring tape. She stroked her cock a few more times, trying to be sure that she was getting it at its longest, biggest state, and then carefully measured it from the base, all the way up to the very tip. It was about 6.5 inches long. That didn’t sound very big.
She went over to her computer and turned it on, waiting patiently for it to boot up. Actually, she was waiting quite impatiently. Why were these things so slow? Her TV came on real quick. But, she did manage to fill the time by continuing to feel, explore, and stroke the erection. It was a pretty nice way to fill in the empty spaces and times of life, stroking your cock.
Once her computer systems were all up she immediately googled Wikipedia, typed in ‘average penis size,’ and hit enter. Up popped, so to speak, a picture of a guy’s erection, along with a few others in various states. It really isn’t that hard to find a hard one. And, most importantly, hers did look pretty darned good in comparison to the ones they had there. She scrolled down to ‘erect length,’ and carefully read, all the while feeling hers with her left hand as she scrolled with her right.
It was actually kind of confusing, and surprising. One study, published in Journal of Urology, said the average size was 5.08 inches. ‘Goodness,’ she thought, ‘my penis, Michael’s penis, is more than a whole inch bigger than that!’ The next study said 5.35 inches. She was still pretty much ahead of that. The third and last one said 5.9 inches. She wasn’t much bigger than that, but she was still bigger and, besides, that study was conducted on college students at spring break in Cancun. College students was the right comparison group, but she couldn’t imagine that was a fair study. She giggled at the thought of measuring boys’ erect penises on spring break. Albeit inaccurate, the study must have been a lot of fun.
In any case, she did win each time! It was kind of cool to realize that you had a big penis. Actually, it wasn’t hers, but it was hers for awhile, at least. She would have to put his size in her report. She wondered if Michael had ever measured himself. Wouldn’t he be so happy to find out how big it really is? She returned to the mirror to further admire her trophy cock, her prize stallion, her big, manly truncheon. This was indeed a cock to admire, to applaud, to adore.
It felt so good to play with his, her, balls, as she stroked and fondled his, her, cock. She realized that she could easily do this for hours. It was just a pure, base, fundamental, unadulterated pleasure. She was feeling no doubts, no concerns, no insecurities, no anxieties, just simply physical merry delight, joy, and exhilarating, invigorating, basic hedonic stimulation and satisfaction. It was like being high, but a natural, healthy one.
She softly fondled the testicles, tickling them with her fingers. He was in fact quite ticklish right behind them, causing her to bend over giggling. She could never tickle herself as a girl. Boys must have all the fun.
She quickly found though that it felt most good to caress, stroke, and rub the crown. She knew she would have to remember that when she had a real boy’s erect penis in her hand. Well, this one was real, but she knew what she meant. And, boy, he was especially sensitive on the underside of the crown! She began to concentrate on that with her right hand as she softly stroked him with her left.
She also began to thrust her hips while she stood before the mirror, imagining that she was in fact fucking someone. Although, she would prefer to be the one being fucked, at least in her mind. She looked at herself, or more accurately, him in the mirror as she jerked him off, and she imagined that it was in fact him, pounding on his cock for her amusement, her pleasure. Beating off for her as she sat on the floor before him.
She again reached for his balls with her left hand and stroked herself harder and faster with her right. She grasped his shaft tightly with her fist, and plunged her fist up and down. She could hear the foreskin sliding on and off the bulb, his precum heavily lubricating the engorged, sensitive crown, her heavy breathing and gasping were filling the room, and then she felt this sudden intense surge in her loins and a heavy, forceful pressure course through her body and up through the shaft that twitched in her hand and suddenly released out the head a large white glob of his thick, hot sperm.
Her eyes opened wide in shock and delight as she watched his cock repeatedly twitch and spurt, squirting out globs and ropes of white sticky cum that splatted and smacked against the mirror, quickly covering the reflection with gobs, drips, and splots of thick, white, sticky gism.
Her legs felt weak, her knees buckled, and her head felt faint, but she maintained her stance as best she could to continue to douse the bedroom mirror with his full, heavy, young male load. It was such a terribly impressive sight. She felt so powerful, so manly, blasting forth such a heavy, mighty, potent load of male gunk, all the time accompanied by waves of blissful pleasure coursing throughout her body. So, this is what a boy’s orgasm felt like and, man, it was pretty darned good!
When she was done she stood there a bit, catching her breath, admiring how thoroughly she had covered the mirror. She never squirted as a girl. She heard that some girls did, but she knew if she did it would never be anything like this. This was a pretty darned impressive way to orgasm. It was just such a blast to have the intense spasmodic waves of pleasure be accompanied by such a visual display of force and violent release, literally dousing the mirror with the stuff of his climax.
But, she then realized that his cum was running down the mirror, dripping down onto her fine bedroom carpeting. She ran to the bathroom, got a wash cloth, dashed back, and got as much of it as she could, realizing as well how much was also still leaking out of his penis. She squeezed it, milking out the last drops, and also realized that one wash cloth was really not enough, but at least she hadn’t messed up the carpeting too badly.
Her face reddened at the thought of putting all of this in her report. The professor had clearly stipulated to put in everything. That was in the contract she had signed. When she had signed it she had not realized, expected, that anything like this would occur. He wouldn’t really expect her to put in all of what she had just done, would he? There was no way she could do that. But, how could she explain how she had obtained the length of his erection? And, what the heck was going to go in the report if not for this? She was now feeling very self-conscious about what she had just done. Well, at least the penis size would definitely go on, for his sake.
It was perhaps, though, understandable, wasn’t it? She again imagined, realized, what Michael must be doing with her body. If she immediately went to jerking herself off with his body, just imagine what he must be doing!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
When the professor and Michael arrived at his apartment he offered to help carry in the bags.
Michael declined. It looked to him that he could carry them all in, even in one trip. None of it was particularly heavy, but the professor insisted. He reminded him that he was a girl now, and girls didn’t lug around lots and lots of bags, certainly not in one trip, and certainly not when there was a man there. Michael wondered if that had been possibly true in the professor’s day and age but not now. Still, it might seem odd to anybody watching for the man not to be helping the petite young lady who was carrying everything in by herself, in one trip.
Dr. Minsky wanted to help also because he wanted to call Marcia from Michael’s apartment. He wanted to give her Michael’s phone number. It really would help if they started speaking directly to one another, although he wouldn’t push it. In addition, he thought it best to call Marcia in case Michael had some questions regarding the things they had purchased. He seriously doubted that they got the right size of brassiere. And, frankly, one important question would be whether Marcia was having her period and would Michael need to use a tampon. He hoped that the insertion of those things was self-explanatory. They must have directions on the box, or at least he could get that information off the web, if Michael had a computer with internet access. ‘How stupid of me,’ he thought. Michael was a college boy. He obviously had a computer with internet. Frankly, he had himself been rather slow to get hooked up. He still didn’t even have a cell phone.
Michael felt a bit funny walking into his ground floor apartment, dressed as a girl, carrying tons of plastic bags filled with girly things, followed by this older man, hauling along an even larger load. But, he didn’t mind if anyone noticed this girl entering his apartment. They might just think that she was his girlfriend, or perhaps his sister, visiting with their father. It would be kind of cool though to have them think that she was his girlfriend. She was pretty darned cute. Maybe, once the professor left, he could somehow manage to let some of his neighbors see him in her undies or something, make them really think that he had a girlfriend, and a rather hot one at that.
Once he got into his apartment he felt a wave of relief, being now surrounded by things he recognized, things that were his, things that identified and defined him as Michael, a young man. It was so good to see all of it, to be reassured that he was him. He so looked forward to getting back into his old self, his own body.
“Here,” he said, “just toss the stuff down over there, on the couch, that’ll be fine.”
“Aren’t you going to try anything on?” The Walmart bill was pretty darned high, despite being Walmart. This boy had purchased quite a lot of stuff. “If something doesn’t fit, I can take it back right now and exchange it.”
That was a good point. It was a lot to try on, but he could at least find out which panties didn’t fit, and they probably did purchase the wrong size of brassiere. “Yea, well, okay.” He began to pull up her sweater.
“Wait, hey son, wait a second,” the professor protested, looking away. “Don’t you want to do that in the bedroom?”
Michael looked at him, his sweater pulled up to reveal her white tummy. “What do I care? I’m not actually a girl. It’s not actually my body. What do I care if you see it?”
The professor turned back to him. That was a good point. What did he care? Why should he care? Well, perhaps he should care, but what harm is there in just seeing it. It’s not like Marcia was there anymore. It’s not like she would care. Well, maybe she would care, but she wouldn’t have to find out. Well, if he included this in his scientific report she would find out, but he couldn’t see why he should or would include this particular moment. Not everything had to be in the article. There were, after all, space limitations in scientific articles. He can’t report virtually everything that happened.
He didn’t say anything, not feeling like he wanted to make the decision, and certainly not wanting to discourage Michael. After all, this was still part of the experiment, wasn’t it? As the researcher, he really shouldn’t interfere with how the subjects are participating in the study. Yes, not saying anything was the right thing to do. It was the most scientifically credible and objective thing to do. He watched with scientific interest, and prurient delight, as Michael brought Marcia’s sweater up and over the round white cups of her brassiere, his dick instantly growing within his slacks, and he made a quick adjustment before the sweater cleared Michael’s face.
As Michael pulled the sweater over his shoulders, off his arms, and laid it aside, he hesitated in going further, his eyes gazing down at her young round breasts, still covered by the brassiere. “Wow,” he said quietly.
“Yea,” the professor added, even more quietly.
They were both witnessing something that was really quite wonderful, and that neither had seen in quite some time. Actually, Michael had seen such a thing only once before, when he got Penny Anderson to take off her blouse. If he had a cock, it would swell pretty fast and hard now.
The professor certainly had a cock, and his was indeed at attention. He slipped his left hand into his slacks and over to his cock, both to pull it tight against his abdomen, as well as to hold onto it. He tried to look casual with his hand in his pocket, but he felt far from it. He said lamely, “She has a nice brassiere, doesn’t she, son.”
“She sure does,” Michael replied, and promptly reached back to undo the clasp, thrusting her chest, her breasts, way out, as if he was actually trying to show them off to the professor, trying to get them to look as perky and big as possible, trying to encourage him to reach over and clasp them in his hands.
At least it looked that way to the professor.
And, doing such a thing was certainly on the professor’s mind, but he held his ground, as well as his stiff dick. Grabbing Marcia’s boobs was probably going too far. Even Michael might not like that.
Michael was struggling with the clasp. He had struggled with Penny’s brassiere as well. Penny had been a friend of his cousin, Sally, and he had met her at a dance ‘for the young folk’ at the family reunion on Goose Lake. She said that she normally didn’t do things like that, but it was such a special time: summer vacation, at the lake. She would let him at least play with them. But, he struggled so long with the clasp, and she hadn’t helped with all of her giggling and teasing. And, just when he felt he had gotten it undone she heard someone coming down the path and pushed him away to get her blouse buttoned up.
And, this seemed even harder than with Penny, as he had to reach around behind his back. He knew he must look awfully stupid. He sure felt that way.
“Here,” the professor said, “let me help you.” He strode over to the clumsy boy, got behind him and deftly unclasped the brassiere. Perhaps it was indeed good that he stayed while the boy tried on some clothes. He obviously needed some help. His dick also swelled as he gazed upon the brassiere strap. This was a boy, but he was looking at a girl’s brassiere on a very pretty girl’s body. He didn’t think any of his colleagues would approve of this, particularly if they didn’t realize that a girl was not actually present in the room. But, he did like to imagine, in his own mind, that he was unclasping the brassiere of a very pretty, young coed and, when it came to her body, he was certainly doing that. He had never imagined an opportunity like this ever happening. Not only would he likely get a Noble Prize, but a nice peek at a fresh, young feminine body as well. Sometimes science was a pretty darned good profession.
As soon as the clasp was undone Michael pulled the cups from his breasts, Marcia’s breasts, and let the brassiere fall to his feet. His eyes widened with wonder and lust at the sight before him. Marcia apparently had really, really great tits. They weren’t super large or anything, but apparently 34B was still pretty darned good. And, they were so round, so perky, so white. He reached up and grasped them in his hands, grasping for the first time two lusciously soft melon breasts. He never felt anything so wonderful in his life. They were so feminine, so squishy, so sexy. He even clasped the nipples between a finger and thumb and gasped at how good that felt, to his fingers, as Michael pinching them, and to her, as Marcia feeling them being pinched. Yes, indeed, being in a girl’s body was rather interesting.
The professor had moved around in front of him. He had to get a good look at this, at Marcia’s young naked tits, and he was not disappointed. This girl was indeed very cute, and looking all the better with her blouse and brassiere removed. Plus, she (well, he, but it really looked like she), was playing with them, playing with her young, firm, soft boobies right in front of him. He wondered if perhaps it might be useful to get some pictures, for the article, of course, for the scientific record.
Michael, with some reluctance, let go of Marcia’s soft round boobs and then quickly unclasped her skirt, letting it fall to his feet in a crumpled pile at his ankles, and for a moment gazed upon her panties. Marcia apparently liked very feminine panties. They were pink, and covered with all sorts of different colored little flowers, some rose, some yellow, some aquamarine, some violet, some pastel blue. The waistband and trim were all lacy, and in the middle, right above the cunnie mound, was a tiny pink bow.
The professor’s dick strained in his pants.
The panties were so sexy to Michael that it was almost a shame to remove them, but he was more interested in what they were hiding. He slipped his thumbs into the waistband of Marcia’s panties, and pulled them down to his ankles.
He didn’t even step out of them, he wanted so badly to see what their removal revealed, and he was not disappointed. “Man!” he exclaimed, as his eyes feasted on Marcia’s sweet, little, feminine cunnie. His angle was not the best in the world, and he had to bend over to get a good look, but what he could see did look awfully, awfully fantastic.
Marcia did not have much of a growth. It was more of a wispy patch of thin peach fuzz than a thick bush, which Michael sorely appreciated as he could see very clearly that which interested him most: her cunt slit. On the one hand, it wasn’t much to look at. It was just a soft, white mound split down the middle by a single, delicate slit, but it was the most beautiful, the most wonderful slit he had ever seen in his life. ‘Man,’ Michael now said to himself, ‘this girl has one sexy cunt!’
It looked awfully good to the professor as well. With Michael’s eyes clearly occupied, he felt and squeezed the cock in his slacks, softly rubbing it as he gazed upon the girl bent over, her colorful panties at her ankles, staring at her cunnie like it was the first time she ever saw it, never really appreciating how pretty and sexy it was. “Marcia” even reached down with her little feminine fingers and felt it, gingerly and tenderly exploring it, even clasping the lips in her fingers to pull it open, opening up the slit to show him her moist inner lips. It was like he was witnessing a young lady discovering her sexuality, standing right there before him, allowing him to watch her explore her young body for the very first time.
If she kept this up, and he kept it up, he would cum in his pants. Perhaps Michael would understand. Wouldn’t he do the same thing if he was in his body? Maybe the boy would like some help with how to insert a tampon. It wasn’t quite what he would like to insert in that pussy, now so deliciously spread open, but it might be best to proceed carefully with respect to that feminine product. It was a delicate matter, a delicate situation.
Michael, so absorbed in the sight, the feel, of Marcia’s wonderfully naked body, that he had momentarily lost track of the fact that the professor was standing right there. He wasn’t embarrassed, certainly not embarrassed in the manner that Marcia would have been. But, he had other things now on his mind, things that he would rather do in the privacy of his bedroom, things that he would rather not do with the professor watching, things that perhaps the professor would not approve.
He let go of Marcia’s pussy lips and stood back up straight, noticing in his lower peripheral vision how her breasts jiggled and wiggled with his movement, and then settled back into their firm, perky position once he stood still, standing out from him so proudly. “Yea, well, professor, I think I’m good now. I think I can handle the rest of it.”
The professor didn’t really want to go. Who would want to leave a pretty naked coed, standing there so deliciously nude, every inch of her body so lovingly exposed, her hips so narrow, her skin so white, her breasts so round, her nipples so stiff, her slit so moist with arousal and lust. But, he had to keep in mind that his ultimate goal was to get through this problem without getting discovered, without getting into trouble. It took all his professorial ethical strength to deny himself this temptation, but he knew he would feel better about it tomorrow, or at least maybe he would. “Yea, well, let me at least leave you Marcia’s phone number.”
He looked around for something to write on. He looked through the open passageway into the kitchen. On the refrigerator was a note pad. He strode over to it, and jotted down her phone number, using the pencil hanging from a string. He turned to go, and then saw Michael’s phone, on the kitchen counter. He picked it up and dialed her number. “I better give her a call.”
Michael really, really wanted him to leave, but it was probably a good idea to check in with her. He stepped out of Marcia’s panties and strolled into the kitchen, wearing only her socks and shoes. It felt a little chilly to be so entirely naked, but somehow it didn’t bother him.
“Hello?” It was Marcia on the other end.
It was rather strange to hear her voice on the line while gazing upon her naked lusciousness standing before him. She had a little birthmark on one of her breasts. He felt an impulse to point that out to her, kind of like a joke, but he realized that she was unlikely to think it was very funny. “Yes, hello Marcia, this is Dr. Minsky. I’m at Michael’s apartment. I just wanted to check in, see if you had any questions, see if everything was alright.”
On the one hand it was good to hear from the professor, to know that he was checking up on her, making sure she was okay. But, she was a little out of breath right now. After her masturbation she was a little sweaty and had decided she better take a shower. She figured a guy’s body starts to smell sticky pretty darned quickly.
After the shower, while toweling off, she decided that maybe she should do a little exercising. After all, she wanted to return the body in good shape and, well, besides, she wanted to see it work out. She wanted to see how strong and virile it was. Plus, it was kind of fun watching a boy exercise in the nude, so she was working out in front of her mirror. The professor had called while she was doing some push ups, giggling at how his penis kept hitting the rug.
“I’m fine, I’m fine, I was just exercising.”
The professor spoke to Michael, his eyes trying to focus on his eyes, trying to keep from staring at Marcia’s tits. “She’s exercising,” he explained.
Michael was impressed. That was nice of her. He did work out on a regular basis and was rather pleased about what shape he was in. “Hey, tell her she can come over. I’ve got some dead weights she can use.” But, as soon as he said that, he regretted it. He first wanted some alone time with this body.
The professor spoke on the phone. “He says that you can come over, if you want, as he has some weights, if you want to exercise here.”
Marcia thought that might not be a bad idea, and it was nice of him to invite her over, but, she still didn’t know if she was ready to see herself yet, like that. Talk about an out-of-body experience! Plus, she wasn’t too sure that she was entirely yet done with this body, and she certainly didn’t want to exercise in the nude in front of Michael. That might seem kind of strange. It wouldn’t be like he hadn’t seen himself naked before, but she imagined that he didn’t exercise naked and much of her fun in exercising was the fact that she was naked, at times with a stiffie. “No, no, that’s fine. I’m okay here, but, um, you know, there is one thing.”
“Sure, sure,” the professor responded. “Anything.”
“Well, I don’t really have all the right clothes for him. I mean, I have this flannel shirt of my father’s. It might fit pretty good, but I don’t have any boy slacks or jeans, or anything. Can you bring over some of his?”
The professor turned to Michael. “She wants some of your clothes.”
Michael was surprised they hadn’t thought about that before. After all, they had bought a ton of clothes for her body. Why hadn’t they figured that she would need any for his body. That was a bit self-centered of them. “Oh yeah, sure. I’ll get some.” He dashed off to his bedroom to grab some of his clothes.
The professor spoke again to Marcia. “He’s going to get some and, well, um, Marcia, while he’s gone, there is one thing I want to ask.”
“Yea, sure professor,” she responded, wondering what it might be, not thinking that it could be good, given that he wanted to ask in private.
It was a rather difficult question for the professor to ask. He had never asked a girl about such a thing before, but he knew that he had to get it out before Michael came back, so he just plunged forward. “Are you, well, we need to know, are you, um, having your, you know,” his voice went real soft, “your period.”
“Professor! No! My goodness!”
The professor was relieved to hear that, and he knew Michael would be relieved as well. Although, that did mean five bucks down the drain. He wondered if he could return the tampons. He might as well, along with the panties that didn’t fit.
“What size panties do you wear?”
“Professor!” She wasn’t quite used to having professors ask her questions like that. Still, she knew that it was probably a necessary question. She had not in fact provided all of the measurements and sizes he had wanted earlier and if he was going to buy her panties, he might as well buy the right size. “Twenty-two waist, size two,” she replied. Thank goodness this was at least over the phone. Her face reddened as she provided the details, but Michael’s penis twitched and swelled. She noted to herself that just talking about panties apparently made it excited. But, it couldn’t really have a mind of its own, could it?
Excellent, he thought, not sure if it was excellent because he could now bring half of the panties back or excellent because it was the more petite size. “And, well, brassiere? The saleswoman suggested 34B?”
This seemed to Marcia to be going much too far. Now she knew she didn’t want to come over, with Michael knowing her brassiere and panty sizes. Talk about a rather awkward first date! It wouldn’t, of course, be a date, but it would sure as heck be a very awkward evening. She shuddered to be thinking that it might even be considered a date. “Yes, yes, 34B, that’s right.”
“Wow,” the professor intoned. “She was right.” He hadn’t given much credit before to Wallmart sales personnel. He was impressed. He would have to nominate her as salesperson of the month.
Michael had returned with some clothes for Marcia, all bundled up in his hands. He strode into the kitchen, his arms clutching a large pile of clothes against his chest, and still seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was entirely naked, he dropped them all onto the kitchen table. The professor’s eyes followed the sight of her naked swinging bottom, and then once the clothes were deposited, they tracked the wiggling of her tits as Michael made his way over to the drawer in which he kept large plastic garbage bags.
“Yes, well, is that it, professor?”
The sound of Marcia’s voice in his ear as he was admiring her naked bum jarred him back to attention. “Um, let’s see,” he wondered aloud, as Marcia’s body bent over from the waist as Michael pulled open the bottom drawer. Her bottom rose up higher and higher, and her butt crack began to split open, like a ripening flower, spreading open its petals for him to slip inside and taste her nectar.
His eyes opened wide at the sight of the girl’s so delectably cute little rosebud, peeking up at him from down in that little fanny valley, and beneath her curly, puckered little anus, Marcia’s dewy feminine slit rose up as well.
“Professor? Professor?” It was Marcia’s voice again.
“Um, no, no, that’s it….Um, I’ll be right over with Michael’s clothes. See you in a bit,” and he hung up the phone, his eyes glued to Marcia’s dewy slit.
He wondered how far Michael would really go in not caring about Marcia’s body but, of course, it might also be difficult to get around that it was in fact Michael, a boy, in that body. If he were to actually have sex with “him,” he would have to go all the way in the ruse, and pretend she was in fact Marcia. Yea, that would work. That could work real well.
But, he lacked the nerve to suggest it, or he had sufficient ethical resolve to resist the temptation. At some level he did realize that he really had to control himself. Imagine failing to resolve this problem, failing to win the Noble Prize, simply because he wanted to have sex with a coed’s body. Boy, that would be quite the example of poor judgment biting you deep in the ass. Some persons fall from great levels because they failed to keep their zipper up, and he was not about to be one of them.
Michael pulled from the drawer a large black garbage bag, strolled back to the kitchen table, and proceeded to stuff all the clothes inside.
The professor did at least admire and enjoy the sight of Marcia’s body working away at all the boy’s clothes. It was like the professor was invisible, inside of a girl’s apartment, watching her fill a charity bag of clothes, a girl who apparently never wore clothes herself while she was in her apartment. He had heard of such a thing, but until now he had never witnessed it.
When Michael was done he pulled the draw string on the bag, handed it over to the professor and said, “Here, this’ll probably be enough.”
“Yea, thanks,” the professor replied, and followed Michael to the front door, his eyes trained on Marcia’s cute little derriere. Coeds have such sweet bottoms. He had admired many in his classes, longing to see one naked. He even contemplated going to a local “gentleman’s” club. There must be a lot of coeds working there. But, he knew it was too risky to be seen there by one his students. Yet, here was one now, and it was ever so much as pretty and darling as he had imagined. He wished he didn’t have to leave. He was actually feeling rather jealous of Michael, and he wondered if perhaps, once he fixed the problem, whether there was some way he could even, possibly, create a girl for his own. He knew he couldn’t actually create a girl, but there had to be some way he could get this to work to his favor. Yet, of course, first on the list was to get these two back into their own bodies. He shouldn’t lose sight of that.
Michael opened the door for the professor, standing in a manner that did not seem to appreciate that anyone outside his apartment, anyone who happened to be walking by, would see this young, pretty naked girl standing there. “So long, doc,” Michael said.
The professor, with considerable reluctance, extricated himself from the apartment, got back into his car, adjusted his erection, and then pulled away to make his way over to Marcia’s place, having forgotten to retrieve the panties to return to Walmart.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Marcia greeted the professor at the door, wearing a towel around his waist. The youth today was clearly much more liberal about nudity, although at least she was wearing a towel.
Marcia furrowed her brow in confusion as she saw the large garbage bag. Is this how boys pack their clothes? Or, was this really some sort of garbage? He couldn’t be providing me with his dirty laundry, could he? How much nerve does this guy have?
She reached for the bag, keeping the door only half open, making it clear to the professor that he wasn’t being invited in. She felt kind of funny with him, being almost naked and everything. She even instinctively covered her chest with her left arm as she opened the door, as if she still was a girl, hiding her exposed breasts. It was the natural reaction of a girl. Plus, after having told the professor her brassiere and panty sizes, she wasn’t so sure she wanted any extensive conversation with the man. What might he now ask in person? “Okay, great, that’s great, professor. That’s very helpful,” she said, letting go of the door and stepping out a little to grab the bag with her right hand, keeping her chest hidden with her left.
The professor could tell that she was feeling a little uncomfortable, a little apprehensive, about his presence. It was perhaps only natural, although a bit odd, at least for him. Michael comfortably showed him his naked girl’s body, but Marcia was quite uncomfortable showing him her naked boy’s body. It might take awhile for them to get used to being in another person’s body. In any case, he didn’t really want to get into any extensive conversation with Marcia. He knew his face would turn red if she asked him about how it was going with Michael in her body. There was really no way he wanted to get into that. Plus, he was concerned that she would identify additional glitches and problems for him to solve, when he really needed to get back to his lab to work on the computer systems. “No problem, no problem. Very glad to help. Now, you just give me a call, if anything comes up.”
Marcia avoided eye contact, feeling more and more uncomfortable being so naked and exposed in front of this older man, a college professor no less. She might be in a man’s body, but she still felt like a girl wearing only a towel. “Sure, thanks, okay then, bye bye.”
He felt a little guilty, a little apprehensive leaving her like this. After all, it was his fault she was in the wrong body. But, it was quite apparent that she wanted to be alone as much as he didn’t really want to speak to her any longer. “Well, right then, alright, take care. See you tomorrow.”
“Yes sir,” she replied, and shut and locked the door.
As soon as the door was closed she dragged the heavy bag across her carpeted living room floor to her couch, and pulled it open.
It was packed with clothes. She could tell that some of the clothes had been folded, at least originally. It was at least not a bag of dirty laundry. He had packed for her a pair of jeans, two pairs of slacks, and four shirts, plus socks, white and black and, at the bottom, even a pair of sneakers. That was thoughtful. Plus, she smiled when she saw the underwear. Two boxers and one pair of briefs. Apparently he did wear boxers. She was glad to see the boxers. They had to be more comfortable, didn’t they? Plus, they looked more appealing, more masculine. One was striped in two different shades of blue, the other was all grey. She checked the briefs and boxers further. They were all clean, thank goodness. Well, apparently he was a boy who took good care of his things. Up to a point. She really didn’t care for his packing. Still, it wouldn’t take her long to iron them.
She didn’t mind wearing his used clothes. They should after all fit well, and they were fresh and clean. Well, maybe she should go ahead and give them another wash. No harm in that.
But, what would she wear to go to the laundry room? She certainly couldn’t put on the clothes she had been wearing earlier. Well, she would have to put on at least one of these outfits, temporarily.
She reached for a pair of boxers, but then hesitated. Maybe she could at least try the briefs. It would only be as long as it took to do the laundry. She dropped her towel from her waist, and briefly paused to admire again the sight of the boy’s naked penis. It looked rather cute in its relaxed state: like a little baby all asleep, tucked away in its comforter. But, the longer she admired it, the more it began to stir. She pulled on the briefs.
‘Cool, they have this little flap here you can use to stick the penis out.’ She reached through the flap and pulled out Michael’s penis. ‘That’s so cool!’ She couldn’t help but think that boys sure have it easy. They can just pull it out and point it in any direction they want. She tried pointing it in various directions. ‘It’s like they have their own built in little squirt gun,’ she thought. She kind of wished he needed to pee right now. She wanted to see what that would be like, peeing standing up.
But, first things first and, besides, he was getting harder and harder as she continued to play with him. It would probably be pretty difficult to aim it when its hard, at least aim it into her toilet. Wouldn’t it be ironic for her to be responsible for a guy missing the target in her bathroom.
She slipped his penis back into his briefs, put on a pair of jeans, and a shirt (the buttons were awkward to do, being in the wrong direction), put on the socks and sneakers, and went to her bedroom to get a load of quarters and her keys. She picked up his clothes she had worn earlier and tossed them into her laundry basket along with a few things of her own (might as well kill two birds with one stone), grabbed her laundry goods and headed out the door for the laundry room.
The laundry room was on the other side of her building. Fortunately, it wasn’t too crowded. As she begin to load a machine with his things, as well as some of her own, she noticed a girl looking at her funny.
When they caught each other’s eyes, the girl spoke up. “Mike, what are you doing over here? Why aren’t you using your own laundry room?”
A wave of anxiety flooded Marcia. This woman knew Michael! She even apparently knew where he lived, which might even be somewhere in this same complex? She cursed herself for declining to get his address from the professor. Frankly, it shouldn’t really be too surprising. Her complex was quite large, and it was the most popular set of apartments for more senior Livingston students. “Oh, yes, yes, um, yes….I, um, they were all full, and so I came here. I need to get some things washed, for tonight.”
The girl looked a little skeptical. She never perceived Mike as being especially fastidious. She became even more curious when she noticed a few feminine articles of clothing within his basket, including even a couple of pairs of panties. They were not anything especially delicate or provocative, just a couple of white cotton panties with little colorful flowers, but they were panties nevertheless. She smiled quizzically at Michael. “Helping out your sister?”
Marcia could feel her face go red, and her panic rose. What if she knew him real well? What if Michael was dating this girl? Did Michael have a girlfriend? Did he have a sister? Perhaps the professor was right, perhaps they should have gotten together to trade notes, to make a plan. “Yes, right, right. No! No, these aren’t my sister’s.” She felt it was best not to make something up, as it could very well be wrong.
The girl could see that Mike was a bit embarrassed at getting caught washing some girl’s panties. Frankly, though, she found it rather cute, and perhaps that is what explained his presence on the other side of the complex. Apparently Mike had a girlfriend. Well, he was apparently more popular than she had thought. He had always seemed rather shy to her. She couldn’t really imagine him with a girlfriend. Still, it was a girlfriend having him wash her panties. “Well, whose ever they are, they’re very cute.” She stifled a giggle.
“Do you think so? They’re kind of plain but I do like the little bow on the front of this one,” Marcia said, holding it up so that the girl could see, and then instantly threw them roughly into the machine. ‘Marcia, you idiot!’ she screamed to herself. Her response was just a reflexive, instinctual, reaction she would make to another girl who complimented an article of her clothing, momentarily forgetting that she wasn’t Marcia, she was Michael. Michael certainly wouldn’t have reacted that way. Her face grew redder.
The girl was rather surprised by Mike’s remark. He at first seemed quite embarrassed, but now he was actually showing off the panties, even complimenting them. “Um, yeah, the bow is very cute, Michael,” she responded, her voice sounding almost sarcastic. She turned away, feeling a little awkward about his delight in these panties. Maybe there were lots of things she didn’t know about this guy.
Marcia turned as well to her own laundry. That did not go well. She would have to keep reminding herself that she was a boy, that she was this guy Michael.
When a bit of time passed she realized that she was safe, and probably hadn’t done much damage. It was at least fortunate that this girl was not dating Michael. Goodness, how awkward would it have been if this girl had been his girlfriend? In fact, though, Michael could indeed have a girlfriend, perhaps even living at this complex. Or, at least, other persons at the complex might also know him. Time seemed to pass very slowly as she anxiously and impatiently waited for the machine to wash their clothes, and even after they were done she would still have to dry them.
She stole a couple of glances at the girl as she waited for the clothes to wash. The girl was kind of pretty. She was wearing a tight t-shirt that really showed off her breasts, plus real short shorts, and she had such a nice taut bottom. Marcia could smell slut right away, but his penis stirred at the sight of her bottom, wiggling and wagging as she reached deep down into the washing machine. Marcia was confused. She was feeling both arousal and jealousy.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
As soon as the professor left Michael made a bee-line to the bathroom. He really had to get a good look at this body.
And, he was not at all disappointed. He already knew that Marcia was pretty but, man, she is also stacked! And, they’re so fucking firm and round. He stood before the large mirror, mouth gaping wide open at the two naked luscious tits. He shook his shoulders and smiled as her tits wiggled and jiggled. This is so cool! Nothing on his body did anything like that. He jumped up and down, twisted left and right, and bent over and shook them, all the while watching how they waggled, wriggled, and jiggled. Why do girls get all the good stuff!
He firmly grasped hold of each one as he looked at her body in the mirror. This could not be any cooler! He was watching a very pretty and sexy naked girl feeling herself, as he was himself feeling this same girl’s lovely soft and round naked tits. It could of course be even better if he could stroke his cock at the same time, but its absence did not really diminish the wonderfulness of the experience. Right there in his hands; well, her hands, but hands he was controlling and feeling with, were two lusciously full naked tits. He could not really imagine a better fantasy, and it was in fact a reality. That professor had grossly understated how “interesting” it would be to occupy another person’s body. It wasn’t just interesting, it was an opportunity of a lifetime, a gold mine.
Michael was standing right up against the sink so he could see as close as possible, but he now stepped back, so that he could get a view of her pussy. Unfortunately, his bathroom was not particularly roomy and he couldn’t get too far back. Plus, Marcia was so petite, so short. He wished he had a hand mirror.
He could use the mirror above his dresser, but would that be any better? He carefully climbed up onto the sink, positioning each knee on either side of the bowl. This was a little risky. Imagine if he fell. She would not be particularly happy with him if he gave her body back with a bruise. He recalled the time he had loaned his car to his friend Jim and he had returned it with a broken fender. He was not at all happy about that, and surely Marcia would be even less amused if her body came back injured. Still, the thought that he was actually borrowing a body did sound kind of amusing. Plus, a bruise would heal. It had been considerably more expensive and time consuming to fix the fender.
And, besides, what a great sight! Positioned on his knees before the mirror he could now see her cunt real well, and it was so darned fantastic. He appreciated how thinly sparse was her covering as he could see fully her slit. There wasn’t much to it, just a thin, delicate crevice, but it looked so, so hot! He could even detect some glistening wetness gathering along the tender feminine fissure, the opening into her hole, her cunt.
With his heart racing he reached down with both fingers to open her up. His body rocking, trembling with excitement, and with his awkward, delicate balance on the sink, he spread open the lips to see the soft juicy flesh inside. It was well worth the risk, as it looked so lewd, so inviting, so luscious inside. It was all wet and pink, and with all sorts of lips and folds. He could even see her clitoral hood inches above the fleshy interior. Keeping the lips opened with the fingers of one hand, he used the fingers of the other to lightly touch her clit, and instantly felt a spark of excitement. ‘Whoa!’ he thought, ‘this is almost as good as having a cock. It sure felt as good.’ He played with it for awhile, watching himself in the mirror exploring, caressing, and even fingering Marcia’s clit and slit.
He eventually found the entrance to her hole, and slowly pushed, screwed, his finger up inside. He was actually fingering a girl’s cunt! And, even better, he could watch himself do it at the same time! It was perhaps even better than doing it to her as a guy as he was doing it, feeling himself do it, watching her do it, and feeling it being done, all at the same time. It looked and felt so very good, so very hot, so very obscene. Her breasts were rising and falling with his increasing excitement, her rising sexual arousal. He could feel her cunt getting warmer and warmer, wetter and wetter, and he worked his finger more quickly in and out of her cunt, using the finger of his left hand to work her clit at the same time, kneeling over the sink, thighs spread wide open, his eyes glued to the reflection of flushed pretty face, heaving breasts and fingering cunt.
And then he started to feel himself fall backward! He let go of her cunt and grabbed the mirror, almost pulling it off the wall to keep from falling.
Well, that was close. A bruise might not be too bad, but what if he cracked her head, or broke her wrist? Imagine going to an emergency room in the wrong body. His insurance card would not work for her, nor would he be able to answer any of her medical questions. What if she was allergic to something? He resolved to be much, much more careful. Borrowing a body was in fact far more serious than borrowing a friend’s car.
Still though, before he got off the sink he climbed up even higher, onto his feet. There was something else he wanted to look at in the mirror.
Standing up he could get her pussy even closer to the mirror, which he did, smiling broadly at the reflection of her cunt so obscenely spread open, like she was lustfully, lewdly, inviting him to fuck her. Girls in dirty movies do that but he could not ever imagine a real girl doing that, opening up her cunt like that, and one would certainly not imagine the innocent-looking Marcia doing something like that, but there she was, and there it was, wide open to the world in all its wet, pink, sloppy glory. He even pushed her cunt against the mirror, like she was having it kiss the shiny glass. It left a bit of wet pussy juice behind, which Michael found rather salaciously sexy.
But, he was getting off track. Getting a closer look at her cunt was not the reason he was now precariously standing on the bathroom counter. He carefully, gingerly, turned her body around, always heedfully keeping at least one hand against a wall or the mirror to maintain his balance. He then gingerly moved her feet to the edge of the counter, turned his head around and, while steadying himself with one hand against the wall, he bent over as far as he could without falling off.
It was a very pretty and sexy sight. Marcia had such a cute behind: so round, so white, so perky, and such a deliciously inviting crack down the middle. He wondered if she would like a spanking, and he playfully patted himself a few times on her rump. It both looked and felt rather naughtily nice.
He used his free hand to reach back and open up her butt crack. What girl would do that for you? Maybe after you were married, and even then perhaps only after a few years of marriage would your wife probably be willing to do something that obscene for you, and perhaps by then you won’t even be that interested. Well, perhaps he was being a bit too cynical. Still, he couldn’t imagine asking a girl to spread open her butt cheeks for him, and yet here she was, the cute, petite Marcia opening her crack so that he could actually feast on the sight of her curly pink rosebud.
Mike squeezed her sphincter a few times, smiling as he saw it pucker and wink at him. He let go of the wall to reach in with a finger to caress and tickle it.
But he then felt his feet, his legs, her legs, losing their balance. He quickly reached back with his hand to grasp hold of the mirror but he was already starting to fall forward, and he made the quick decision to abandon ship rather than risk injury by trying to keep it afloat. He leaped from the counter onto the bathroom floor, but then slid backwards off the rug, and stumbled back against the bathroom door, and crashing to the floor on his butt, her butt.
He paused for a moment, waiting to see if anything hurt badly. But, nothing did, not really. His butt felt a little sore, as did an elbow, but nothing seriously. He gingerly got to his feet, and looked wistfully at the stain on the mirror. He was going to have to go out and buy a wall mirror.
In the meantime, he proceeded to his bedroom, where he was likely to be much safer. He did at least have there a mirror above his dresser.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Marcia did not wait for the laundry to get entirely dry. She was going to iron everything anyway, and she really wanted to get out of there. When it appeared to be sufficiently dry, she pulled everything from the dryer, carefully folded them into her basket, and picked it up to head back to her apartment. Because Michael probably would say goodbye, she put the basket back down, turned to the girl and said, “Bye bye,” waving her hand gaily left and right, a big smile on her face.
“Yea, sure,” she replied, “it was nice seeing you,” again looking quizzical. The girl pondered how Michael didn’t normally say goodbye that way, nor had she ever seen him folding his things as he put them into his laundry basket. The latter, of course, could be due to the fact that a girlfriend had instructed him to be sure to fold her things carefully, but that wouldn’t explain his strangely feminine way of saying goodbye.
Marcia realized that perhaps Michael doesn’t say goodby like that, maybe he says “Later,” “So long,” or just “Bye,” or even some sort of silly expression. How many guys say, “Bye bye” and wave their hand in such a feminine manner. She quickly headed back to her apartment.
Once she was safely inside she breathed a sigh of relief. It had not gone at all well, but nothing terrible had happened. And, when she thought about it, what could really happen? All that would likely happen is that Michael might have some kind of social mess to clean up when he got his body back. It wasn’t like anyone was going to discover that she was in his body. Worst case scenario is perhaps that she might get picked up by the police, someone thinking that Michael had lost his mind. But, that was so unlikely. Most likely is that Michael would just have some explaining to do. She did sit down and jot down on a notepad everything that just happened, as best as she could recall it, so that he could at least not make matters worse by not even remembering having seen this girl, or having been in the laundry room. She wondered if she should in fact call Michael on the phone. What if the woman now called him? And, now that she thought about it, what trouble might Michael be creating for her? But, imagine how weird it would be to talk to yourself on the phone. She never liked the sound of her voice on her answering machine. She couldn’t imagine having a conversation with herself.
She emptied out the basket, brought out her ironing board and ironed everything dry, even their underwear.
She didn’t mind ironing. She liked how it got everything so smooth and fresh looking. In fact, she decided to iron the pants and shirt she was currently wearing, stripping down to Michael’s briefs.
She giggled. She wondered if Michael ever ironed in his briefs. Of course, by the appearance of the clothes that he stuffed in the bag, he didn’t iron at all. Why iron if you are just going to stuff things into a garbage bag?
She dragged the ironing board down to her bedroom, and moved the iron and all the clothes down there as well, so she could watch Michael iron in his jockey briefs.
It was really kind of cute and very homey, a guy ironing clothes in his briefs, and really very sexy. He did have a wonderfully masculine body and, now that he was doing the ironing, his briefs didn’t look so silly. For some reason it just seemed right to iron in briefs rather than boxers, but she had absolutely no idea why. She should though probably compare. She pulled off his briefs and put on a pair of boxers, and tried ironing in them. He did look more sexy that way, but she was probably biased by the fact that she preferred the more manly boxers. She pulled them off and put the briefs back on, checking these out again. What was nice about the briefs is that they were better in showing off his bulge. Plus, he did look cute in them, like she was punishing him, embarrassing him, playing with him, telling Michael that he had to iron in his underwear, so she could watch him. She didn’t realize how playful she could be with a guy, once there was no cost in doing so.
She saw his bulge get a little bigger as she watched him ironing, imagining that her boyfriend, Michael, was putting on a little show for her, trying to look all tough and masculine, which he could very well do with his tousled hair, stout chest, muscular biceps, toned thighs, and tight abdomen, but still having some difficulty with appearing big and strong, having to wear his tidy whities. She giggled as she saw him getting bigger and bigger in his briefs, at the same time trying to hide the fact from her, trying to keep the tell-tale growth hidden, out of her line of sight, but to no avail, as it was quite a growing truncheon within those tight white briefs. There was no way to hide that stout manliness. It eventually reached full strength, pushing his briefs well out, the round bulb fully outlined by the tightly clinging cotton.
He might as well just take them off if he was going to show it off like that. So, she did indeed pull down and off Michael’s briefs and continued to iron with her own hot rod, her steel iron bar, sticking out proudly. Now, that was how to have your man iron your blouses, skirts, and even panties. She wondered if Michael ever did in fact iron this way. Probably not, as she had to be very careful not to have the hot iron burn the hot rod. He would probably be a bit upset about that and, for the remaining time she would be in his body, so would she.
It was not difficult for her to keep him, it, hard, as just the experience of having and seeing a stiff erection was itself so new, so novel, so self-reinforcing. She wondered if Michael would have such staying power when she gave the body back to him, able to have an erection while ironing clothes, without even touching it. He probably didn’t enjoy simply watching it as much as she did.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Michael leaped onto the bed, laid down on his back, and closed his eyes as his hands went to her breasts and cunnie. This was much less dangerous than standing on the counter, and he could concentrate on the task at hand, of both hands: feeling the breasts and cunnie of a pretty, sexy, naked girl.
It was like he had fallen into one of his best fantasies. He closed his eyes and imagined that he was him, which of course he was. He was Michael, in his mind. And, his hands had access to the soft, supple breasts and cunnie of a very pretty girl. He would on occasion open his eyes, to see what his hands were feeling, to see the lovely, squishy, perky full breasts and pointy nipples of Marcia, but he would not leave them open for long, not so long as to break the spell of his imagination, that it was he, Michael, feeling up and fingering a naked girl, a girl who was willing to just lie there, letting him do anything he wanted to do to her. Yes, that was a pretty nice fantasy.
She didn’t care if he squeezed, pinched, or pawed her boobs; she didn’t care if he bobbled and wiggled her boobs, like they were toy water balloons; she didn’t care if he fingered her cunt, and even worked two fingers up inside. She was open to anything and everything he could possibly imagine doing with her body. As far as she was concerned, her body was his toy to play with, to do anything with, anything at all.
In fact, she seemed to really, really like how he played with her. He could feel her cunt getting wetter and wetter, and hotter and hotter. He could feel her rising level of arousal and excitement. He could literally feel her heart beating, racing, with lust and passion at the naughty, dirty, and obscene ways he was playing with her tits and cunt. He could feel her hips moving and gyrating on the bed, like a wanton slut abandoning all sense of decency to the deft ministrations of his fingers and hands. He was driving her crazy with lustful excitement.
“Oh Mike, oh Mike,” he heard her gasp. He felt it was a risky move to speak, wondering if that would break the spell. But, on the contrary, not only did it not diminish his pleasure, his fantasy, it further escalated it, for the voice was that of Marcia, a very high-pitched feminine voice, clearly not his own, and clearly that of a petite, girlish girl who was now giving her body over fully to him, as he so clearly knew how to push all the right buttons, how to bring her to her highest level of sexual tension.
“Mike, you’re so good, so good. Yes, squeeze me there, harder, please, please, it’s just too much,” she pleaded. “Oh my, oh my, your finger, you’re fingering me so wonderfully. I’m so ashamed. Please don’t look, please. It’s so embarrassing,” her voice saying one thing but her lewdly gyrating and squirming hips, her thrusting and quivering cunt, saying something else altogether.
“No boy has ever fingered me like this before. You’re so good, so good. Please, please squeeze my breasts harder, my boobs, by boobies, my tits, my jugs.”
Michael could hear her passion, her excitement, reaching a fever pitch. It was so intense not only to be bringing her to such a height of arousal, but to feel himself her sexual excitement, her passion, her agitation, her fermenting, boiling escalation toward climax.
“Oh Mike, I feel so naughty, so dirty, you make me do and feel such dirty, naughty things!”
He kept two fingers of his right hand working in and out of, and wiggling within, her slick hot cunt. But he let go of her breast with his left hand, reluctantly so, and shifted these fingers to her clit, instantly recognizing that she really would like that. He explored all sorts of different ways to stimulate and work her clit: pinching, rubbing, caressing, massaging, flicking, and flickering, quickly falling into the form, the method, that clearly felt best, albeit at times still throwing in other variations. For Marcia’s clit it was apparently pressing down and then circling his fingers around and around and around, essentially grinding her clit in small, tight, rapid, circular motions. She apparently liked that an awful lot. If he were ever to become her boyfriend, he now knew how to make her deliriously happy.
“Oh, geez, oh fuck, oh fuck, Mikey,” she gasped. “Where did you learn that? It’s so good! You’re so fucking, fucking good,” she cried, and thrust up her pelvis hard against his fingers as he gripped and squeezed her clit and plunged his other fingers deep down inside her cunt but, with considerable reluctance, he suddenly withdrew his fingers from her slippery slimy slit, bringing with them a sloppy mess of cunt juice. He brought his fingers to her nose, breathing in deeply the scent of a woman’s hot, horny cunt.
He struggled from his bed and made his way down the hall, her legs wobbly, shaky, and uncertain. He was thinking, considering, looking, for things, thinking about things, things to stick up her cunt.
He went through the apartment and gathered a few possibilities. There was, of course, a banana from the kitchen table. That was an obvious choice. He wished he had a cucumber, but he also figured that would be too cold, as were all of the bottles in the refrigerator. There was though a glass of cola in the cupboard. He got that. He removed the bottle cap and poured out the cola. He also got his hairbrush from the bathroom, and a candle from the utility closet. He glanced at the toilet plunger. The handle might be cool, but it was just too gross to think of using that. He realized he didn’t really have very many good things to use. He did get his baseball bat, smiling at the thought of fitting that big bad boy up her cunt.
He returned to the bed, his tools, his weapons, in hand.
He first tried the handle of the hairbrush, smiling at the thought that he was actually sticking its handle up a girl’s cunt. He seriously doubted that any girl would ever let him do anything like that, even a girlfriend. It did seem rather disrespectful, but it also felt and looked so sexy, so dirty.
He stood up on the bed so that he could see her body in the dresser mirror.
She had such a pretty face and cute little sexy body. He squeezed her titties with one hand as she slid the hairbrush in and out of her cunt with the other.
This was so, so cool! It was like he was voyeuristically peeking into the bedroom of a girl, ogling her sexy naked body, watching her masturbate herself with a hairbrush, and in fact being able to control her every movement, forcing her to try not only the hairbrush but then a candle as well, and after that a banana, all the while feeling what she was feeling, feeling her getting more and more excited, watching her as she tried to get the full yellow banana deeper and deeper into her tight, slippery, quivering cunt. She looked so obscene.
He got the banana about half way up her hole. It felt so, so full, so thick, so forceful.
He let go of it to see if she could in fact hold it there, grasp it with the muscles of her cunt.
He was impressed. She could indeed hold a banana with her cunt, and he smiled at himself in the mirror at the slutty, filthy sight of the pretty, round titted girl with the banana halfway up her cunt. He even posed for himself in the mirror. Holding up her soft round breasts, squeezing them, thrusting them out, giving him coquettish glances, winking flirtatiously, turning left and right, and then turning around to look at him from behind, the yellow banana incongruously sticking out of her. He realized that he should have stood on the bed before, rather than climbing up on the sink, although he couldn’t get a real close up view in the bedroom.
He bent over, showing him her little round white butt, the banana poking out her cunt between her thighs. He took hold of it again and slid it in and out of her tight slippery cunt, watching and feeling the girl fuck herself from behind with a banana.
He reached up with her right hand and used it to flick her clit as he fucked her cunt. Her bottom began to instinctively sway, wag, dance, and prance for him as the banana plunged in and out of her pussy, the juices slipping out of her cunt and sliding down her thighs.
He knew he would not get to the baseball bat. It was probably much too big anyway. It didn’t feel like she had put much of anything big into her before, as the banana was really quite engorging her cunt. And, in any case, he could feel his legs getting wobbly and weak, his head feeling a little foggy and faint.
He dropped back down onto the bed, onto her knees, although continuing to flicker and diddle her button, her bottom waving and gyrating up in the air, her lungs panting and gasping. “Oh Michael,” she panted, “please, please, not so hard. You’re just so big, so, so big.” He drove the banana in and out of her tight sluice, the sloppy slushing sound of the banana sliding in and out mixing in the room with the sounds of her groaning and moaning in pleasure. Michael could feel that she was very, very near. He heard the cliche that it can be difficult for a man to know when a woman has an orgasm. It wasn’t difficult for him.
He plunged the banana deep up inside and pinched hard on her clit. “Oh Michael, I’ve never been fucked by a man this big before. Oh my goodness! Michael, you have such a big, big, giant cock!” she exclaimed, as her climax swept over her body, causing her to shiver, tremble, and twitch.
“Of fuck, oh fuck,” she continued to gasp and exclaim, as he felt her orgasm course through her body in wonderfully fulfilling and deeply satisfying pulsations, her body trembling with each surge, her cunt quivering and squeezing his fingers.
Michael was surprised. It felt just as good as his own orgasms, as Michael. He wasn’t so sure why he thought it might not be as good, but guy orgasms were pretty darned spectacular, and he figured men were just more sexual than women. Well, Marcia’s body proved him wrong, and he lay there for awhile, absorbed in a state of wonderfully fundamental bliss, her fingers still gripping her clit, his banana slipping from her slick, quivering cunt, falling to his bed, her breasts rising and falling as her body slowly regained control and composure.
Eventually, with a deep breath, Michael crawled off the bed. He kind of felt like crawling into bed, cuddling up with someone. It was too bad, he felt, that Marcia was not in fact there, with him, his mind somewhat confused as to what that might in fact mean, imply, or even be like.
He stepped into the bathroom. He felt he should probably freshen up.
He looked in the mirror, and groaned. His hair, her hair, was a complete mess. She originally had a really nice hairdo. It was, or had been, a sort of retro-Sandra Dee look, with pin-curl bangs curling down to the right, covering only half of her forehead, the shoulder-length sides were also wavy, curled, and primped. Now it was simply a mess.
He picked up his comb and tried to fix it, but he only seemed to make it worse. The bangs were not at all uniform anymore, some of the hair on the side was curling outward in a really odd way, like the hair was actually broken or something, and on the other side a big chunk of it was matted against his head. He tried to fluff it back out, but that only made the rest of it bulge out in a frankly freaky manner. He knew that Marcia was not going to be happy about this. And, he knew that it would only be worse the next morning.
He could, though, just wrap a scarf around it. Sandra Dee would in fact do that. But, he didn’t have any scarfs. He did have a baseball cap. He could put on a baseball cap. Girls wore baseball caps, didn’t they? He wondered if a baseball cap would go with any of the outfits Dr. Minsky had bought for him.
He sat down on the toilet to pee and think about what to do, and then almost fell in. He had forgotten to bring the seat back down the last time he peed. ‘Why can’t guys put the seat down,’ he thought, and then realized how weird that thought was. For a moment he even argued with himself, pointing out that she should at least be happy that he had lifted the seat up before he peed. As a man, he was himself disgusted by sitting on sticky toilets in men’s rooms. He did vow to be even more considerate in the future, putting the seat down when he was done.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
When Marcia finished ironing the clothes she carefully put them away in dresser drawers. It was kind of nice putting some clean, fresh men’s clothes into one of her drawers, as if she did in fact have a boyfriend, who was now even living with her. And, it was apparently a boyfriend who had a really, really stiff, big, hard cock. She giggled at herself for thinking in such dirty language. She couldn’t imagine ever saying anything like that to a guy, telling him he had a big, hard dick. She did, though, enjoy thinking about it, and the cock swelled further in appreciation. She looked down at it. Apparently it liked it when a girl said he was big and manly.
She firmly gripped the dick in her hand and stroked it back and forth as she looked upon the underwear in the dresser drawer. She so much enjoyed the feel of the cock in her hand, and the feel of the hand tightly gripping his cock, slowly sliding the foreskin on and off the round, swollen, purple head. It looked and felt so good. She could even hear the foreskin sliding on and off the head. Apparently boys get a little wet too, she noticed.
She wondered which she would most like to jerk off onto: his boxers or her panties. She actually found this to be a bit confusing. For some reason she was finding them both to be similarly erotic. It was like the cock was more interested in the panties, drawn to them like some magnetized divining rod, but she personally found the boxers more arousing, more stimulating. It did seem more appropriate, more natural, though, to jack off onto her panties. That is what a boy would do. But, she felt rather shocked and surprised that she was even thinking this. Goodness, imagine if Michael came over to visit her and she caught him jerking off onto her panties in her bedroom! She would be rather outraged, to say the least. And, this was even the first day of his visit to her apartment. Geez, on his very first date, she catches him jerking off in her bedroom, getting ready to spew his spunk onto her fresh, clean pink panties. Yet, here she was, doing precisely that, and the thought of doing so made his cock swell further with excitement. Her face flushed with embarrassment, and arousal, as she imagined actually spurting a boy’s cum all over her feminine panties.
She took out a pair that she thought were really quite pretty and sexy: her sheer white silk lace bikini panties. You could see right through these, even in the most personal feminine spot. She rarely wore them. There was never any real need to wear them, but whenever she did wear them she did feel awfully sexy. After wearing them all day she would feel such a strong urge to masturbate when she got home, and she would typically do so still wearing the panties, diddling and fingering herself under the panties as she lay on the bed, imagining a guy reaching down there, under her panties, her fingers being his fingers, exploring her, caressing her, fondling and fingering her.
She could feel Michael’s balls churning as she studied the panties, and she brought them with her to the bed, Michael’s cock bobbing, weaving, waving, and twitching, like an excited puppy about to be given his favorite toy.
She lay on the bed, on her back, and for awhile just softly drew the lacy panties back and forth along his stiff dick. His cock seemed to like that. It felt so sensual, so sexy, just lightly teasing and caressing him with her feminine undies, letting him get just a little kiss, a little touch, a little sniff, of her sexy, personal, girly things. It was very exciting for him, but perhaps also a little frustrating, as he kept jerking and twitching. He so much wanted a hand to feel him, to stroke him, all wrapped up in those sheer, silk lace panties.
She didn’t tease him too long. After all, it was her cock as well. She did have her own invested interest in actually letting him enjoy himself. She wrapped her silk panties around the cock and stroked it with her hand, so enjoying the feel and sight of the smooth, lacy, silk panties sliding up and down along his cock. She wasn’t entirely sure if she was enjoying it as a girl, seeing and feeling his cock sliding and poking in and out of her feminine panties, or as a boy, seeing and feeling his cock sliding and poking in and out of her feminine panties. But, did that really matter? What did matter is that both the sight and feel were really very, very wonderful.
There was something truly appealing about seeing the swollen, masculine crown of a man’s thick, aroused cock pushing and driving through her dainty feminine lace. The contrast was really striking. She imagined it driving and pushing through her soft, wet, feminine slit.
She also imagined it driving someplace else as well. She slipped from the bed and laid down on the floor. Yes, Michael’s big, hard, stiff cock might enjoy spraying its hot, sticky spunk into her little silky panties but she, Marcia, wanted him to cum somewhere else.
She raised her legs up straight and then brought them back over her, past her face, to rest them on the floor behind her head. As she had noticed earlier, Michael was indeed in really good shape and was very, very limber.
She couldn’t though get his legs as far back as she wanted, as far back as she needed. She inched her way over to the wall, using it to further support and push against his butt, to try to bring his legs and knees back far enough so that she could wrap her lips around the head of his dick. What could be more pleasurable than that? Well, a lot of things could be more pleasurable than that, but imagine being able to perform oral sex on oneself, to provide the intense stimulation that only lips and tongue can provide.
She wondered if boys, if Michael, ever tried this. Surely they must have. But, perhaps they would find this to be somehow gay? Well, that certainly didn’t trouble her. From her perspective, she was a girl trying to get this cock into her mouth. Her face reddened with the struggle, and with the realization that she was going to suck a cock for the very first time! A part of her was quite glad that Michael really wasn’t there, as perhaps she would like to first do it alone, privately.
She grunted and strained. The muscles of his back were being stretched to the limit, but she just couldn’t get it those last couple of inches. It was really, really frustrating. She could see its shiny, swollen red head, yearning to be licked and sucked, desperately trying to reach her lips, and she was straining to reach it with her tongue, bringing her face, her tongue, as close as possible, but falling literally just inches short. If only penises could somehow be detached, so that you could hold them in your hand and suck and lick them like a lollipop.
Still, it was pretty neat to see his cock this close, to see its angry, bulbous red head just a few inches from her face as she continued to stroke it through her panties. She might not be able to suck on it, but the other reason for this awkward position was still salvageable, still possible.
Then, she had an inspiration. She got back on her feet and took from the drawer of her bed table her little plastic female helper, hidden far back in the drawer, behind a thick book and beneath a couple of handkerchiefs. She blushed as she withdrew it, as she often did, and her face flushed further as she thought about what she was going to do and whether Michael would be at all happy to hear about that in her report. Of course, there was no way she was going to include this experience in her report.
She seriously doubted that any guy would stick anything up his butt when he was masturbating. Wouldn’t that really be gay or something? She assumed, of course, that Michael wasn’t gay. She giggled thinking about the fact that she was kind of like taking his virginity, like a guy would do with a girl. She was herself a virgin. Her hymen was long gone, even before she had started using this helper, but she had not yet had a man insert his penis in her. In any case, sticking a dildo up her butt wasn’t at all gay to her. She had in fact used the dildo on herself, up her bottom, a couple of times; well, a few times or so. She did actually enjoy doing that, although it was a terribly naughty thing to do. Still, the fact that it was so naughty made it all the more fun and exciting. She would even get on the bed on her knees and elbows, her bottom sticking up in the air, imagining a guy putting his big hard penis into her cunt, and then into her butt. She even one time stuck the handle of a hairbrush into her butt while she used the dildo in her cunnie, imagining that she was being taken by two guys at the same time. She felt pretty guilty about that one afterwards, but it had been one of her best orgasms to date.
She got back into position, the back of his butt up against the wall, his legs back over her head. She used her left hand to place the round pointed head of the dildo against his butt hole, the other hand to resume stroking his cock.
Well, she thought, if he had never done this before himself, he sure should try it, as it felt awfully, awfully good. There were so many sensitive nerve fibers there, and they were all tingling at the touch of the smooth, round poking plastic. Maybe she should in fact put this experience into the report. Nobody would know it was her. What difference would it really make for her? After all, she would never actually see him again, and once he read the report he would perhaps try it himself and then realize how much fun it was.
She pushed it harder against his butt hole, trying to relax his sphincter to allow entry. It was a bit harder for her to get it into his butt hole than it had been to get it into her own, although perhaps not much different than the first time she had tried it on herself that way. She had been so ambivalent, so uncertain, so ashamed, that she had difficulty really relaxing her sphincter. Of course, the clenching and squeezing of her sphincter had also made it all the more stimulating.
She gasped as she felt the tip slide in, and squeezed and stroked his cock with more urgency, more lustful earnestness.
She pushed it in deeper and deeper, feeling his sphincter slowly expand, spreading wider and wider as it accepted this manly intrusion up his butt, now her butt, all the while enjoying as well the gripping, grasping fist on his cock.
She stroked his shaft rapidly up and down as she plunged the dildo in and out of their bottom: fucking their ass on one side as she stroked his cock on the other. She would have never imagined doing this for a guy in real life, fucking his butt while she jerked him off onto her face, yet here she was. It was indeed quite amazing what one will do in the privacy of one’s bedroom, when nobody is looking, nobody will know, will ever know.
Her eyes opened wide with anticipation as his dick swelled and twitched within her jerking hand, fisting it now with frenetic vigor, energy, and determination, rapidly stroking him like the piston of a car, sliding up and down the shaft as fast as the other piston drove in and out of their ass.
She imagined she was kneeling before Michael, her face pulled back in submissive readiness as she pounded his cock, keeping her face still and ready to receive his manly seed, to receive his globs of hot, wet, sticky cum all over her face and into her mouth. She opened her mouth and slid her tongue out, waiting and wanting him, his cock, to explode into her mouth, to taste his manly cum.
And, his sphincter suddenly squeezed hard on the dildo as his dick exploded in her hand.
She let go of the dildo and it shot up and out his ass as the first splat of cum missed its mark, falling across her nose and cheek. But she did better with the second one, shooting it right into her mouth, splatting across her tongue. She kept her mouth open for another one, a really good sloppy thick wad that also disappeared into her mouth, and then she closed her mouth and her eyes to aim the rest of the splashes and splots across her face, forehead, cheeks, lips, and eyelids.
She was a little ambivalent about having him cum on her face. She had never imagined actually letting a guy do this to her, but this was in the privacy of her bedroom, by herself, where she could first see what it was like, or least feel what it was like.
And, it wasn’t so bad. It’s not like she was wearing any make-up or had just fixed her hair. In fact, it felt kind of nice, receiving her man’s cum, letting him apply his own make-up. And, it was certainly an awful lot. She was surprised that he had so much, given that he had cum pretty good just earlier, on her mirror.
Of course, her pleasure in receiving it might have been biased, clouded, by experiencing the boy’s orgasm at the same time. Accompanying the hosing of her face were the intense internal waves of pleasure coursing through her, his, body. Perhaps not too many girls have the fortunate experience of have the cumming on their faces be in sync with their own orgasms. It was really actually quite wonderfully appropriate and satisfyingly sexy. If she ever does let a guy cum on her face again, as a girl, she would have to try to diddle herself to an orgasm at the same.
When he was apparently done, she squeezed out the few remaining drops so that they fell into her opened mouth.
She then pushed herself away from the wall and laid back for a bit, relaxing in the blissfully satisfying feeling of post-orgasm, as well as enjoying the taste of Michael’s cum. She was surprised to find that she actually liked it. It was saltier than she thought it would be. She hadn’t really been expecting that. She hadn’t thought it would be salty at all. She wondered if it was something to do with his diet and that perhaps each boy’s cum tastes different. In any case, she did like its thick texture, and simply the fact that it was a boy’s cum, that she was taking it in the most personal, receptive, and honorable way, in her mouth. She swished the globs around and around in her mouth for awhile, and then swallowed them down, which wasn’t really that easy as they were pretty thick globs. She coughed a bit, and vowed next time to have a glass of water handy.
She also liked it’s smell. It had a nice fresh, fruity smell. That also surprised her. She lay there breathing in deeply the lovely manly aromatic cologne, but eventually realized that her face must be quite a mess. She wondered what it must look like. She considered studying her face in the mirror but then realized that she would only be seeing his face, and she was frankly more interested in seeing what it would like on her own face rather than on his.
RNNNNNNNNNNNNGG
She panicked . It was her phone. What if it’s her parents!? Imagine talking to your mother, or even your father, with a boy’s cum on your face. Of course, it wouldn’t really be on her face, but in all intent and purposes, or at least from the perspective of her parents, it would still be on her face. It would be a bit awkward to talk to daddy with cum dripping down your face, although rather fetchingly naughty as well. She grinned as she got up from the floor, feeling a little stiff from the awkward position. She did use her panties to wipe at least some of the cum away, from her eyes, as she reached for the phone by the bed.
Just as she was bringing the phone to her ear it dawned on her that she would not be answering it as Marcia. She would be answering it as Michael! She wondered if she should just hang up before she said anything, or actually he said anything, but if it was her parents they would just call back, and they would then get worried if nobody answered, particularly as they would know full well that they had dialed the correct number (her phone number was on their speed dial). Well, she would just have to pretend that he was some guy visiting Marcia, and that she, Marcia, had momentarily stepped out. This would be difficult to later explain (“Who was he? Why haven’t we met him? Why don’t you invite him over the next time we visit?”). But, at the moment, she felt she no real choice.
She asked tentatively, “Hello?”
“Hi, hello, is this Marcia? It’s me, Michael.”
Whoa! It was a tremendous relief that it wasn’t her parents, but this was weird, and weird on a number of levels. She was not only listening to her own voice asking to speak to her, but she knew it was Michael, and she was standing there by her bed with a lot of his cum still on her face, dripping down her cheek and off her chin. She asked, quite tentatively, “What’s wrong? Is there something wrong?” He better not be calling to ask about a tampon.
Michael also found it rather odd to hear his own voice on the other end, and to realize that he was, at the moment, absentmindedly fondling Marcia’s breast as he spoke to her. “Yea, um, I got kind of a problem here,” he confessed.
Marcia was suddenly swept away by a rush of panic. “Michael, why are you calling? Is there something wrong? Did you hurt it? Is something broken? You’re not in the hospital are you?”
“No, no, no, nothing like that,” he reassured her, recalling that he had almost done precisely that.
Thank goodness for that, she thought. “What is it?”
“It’s just that, well, you know, um, I’ll need to go to campus tomorrow and, well, I don’t think……I was just thinking.”
She wondered why he just didn’t tell her. “What is it?” she interrupted.
“Well, your hair. I think it’s all kind of messed up and I can’t get it fixed.”
‘Gee,’ she thought, ‘What a surprise. Why can’t guys take care of things?’ But, perhaps she really shouldn’t be so judgmental. He didn’t have any experience with hairdos. And, at least he called her rather than showing up looking a mess. She had felt that he shouldn’t call her unless it was a real emergency, and this did qualify. There was no way she would want him to go to campus tomorrow with her hair all messed up.
Much as she didn’t want to see herself, she would have to fix his hair herself. “Okay,” she said, quite reluctantly, “come on over and I’ll fix it. You’ll need to have curlers put in tonight.”
Curlers? He didn’t like the sound of that. But, in a matter such as this, she was clearly the boss. “Yea, okay, I guess you’re right. Where do you live?” He hoped it wasn’t far, although he wasn’t really sure what difference that would make.
“Actually, I think we might be living in the same apartment complex. I’m in Building 12, apartment B16.”
Michael wondered how she knew they were in the same complex. But, perhaps the professor had told her and, frankly, it wasn’t too surprising. His closest friends lived here as well. “Sure, okay, I’ll, um, I’ll be right over.”
“No, no, um, come over in about a half hour or so. I need to….pick things up. It’s pretty messy here.”
“Sure, sure,” he thought. Girls are funny about that. They have to get the apartment all clean before someone comes over.
Marcia’s apartment did not in fact require any cleaning, with the exception, of course, of the dildo on the floor. However, she did want time to clean off his face. Michael’s face all covered with cum was certainly worse than the strange stain her friend had left on her dress. Marcia figured it would be best to take another shower. She was again a little sweaty after all of that play, and it’s possible that he would be able to detect the smell of any cum she happened to miss. It was, after all, his own cum. He might be particularly good at detecting that. And, besides, she would feel rather uncomfortable around him if she knew there was even the possibility of there being any trace of it left. Her face flushed red just thinking about that. She then wondered whether, once he got his body back, would he realize that she had jerked him off twice the night before? Is there some way of telling that?
“Okay,” she said, with considerable apprehension, “see you in a half hour.”
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
After he hung up Michael got dressed. He decided to just put on Marcia’s original outfit and bring over some of the clothes the professor had purchased. He put them in a Kroger paper shopping bag. She might have a useful, and certainly relevant, opinion about these additional outfits. Girls can be pretty particular about their clothes and he wouldn’t want to show up on campus in an outfit that she would subsequently find embarrassing. It was difficult to fit all of the dresses, blouses, and brassieres into the bag, but he managed to stuff most of them in. He didn’t include the many panties. Somehow he felt that would be a bit too personal and, well, he did want to keep them. He waited only a little bit to give her time to clean, and then put on a baseball cap and took off. He decided he really couldn’t wait the full half hour.
Marcia did live in the same complex but her apartment was almost clear on the other side. On the way there he saw one of his good friends, Jimmy, Jimmy Funkhauser. Jim was in fact a pretty good friend of his and, like him, was not at all experienced with girls. It was a sad fact they often shared. Jim was especially pessimistic about ever getting a girl friend. Whereas Michael was pretty good looking and in really good shape, Jimmy was your typical nerdy looking guy: short, freckled, pimpled, thin, and with glasses. Plus, he was just basically very self-conscious and apprehensive around girls. This was in part why they were such good friends. Michael had the looks to attract a girl, but he shared Jimmy’s self-consciousness. Michael realized that he could do Jimmy a really big favor.
Jim was trying to fix a spoke on his bike. He didn’t own a car so used a bike a lot. It even had a basket on the front. Michael walked up to him.
“Hi, aren’t you Jimmy Funkhauser?”
“What? Yea? Yea.” He was a little taken aback. Who was this incredibly pretty girl and why did she want to speak to him? It wasn’t surprising that she knew him, but it wasn’t too often that a pretty girl initiated a conversation with him.
“I thought so. I thought so. I’m.” Michael hesitated, realizing that there was no way he should give Marcia’s real name. “I’m Sandra, Sandra Dee, um, Dean, Sandra Dean.”
Jim got up from his bike, held out his hand, and said, “Hello, I’m Jim,” and then cursed himself. She already knew his name.
“I know that, silly.” Michael shook his hand. It was pretty darned interesting being on this side of the interaction, watching how his friend so clumsily addressed a pretty girl. He was obviously feeling pretty darned intimidated by her. “What’cha doing?”
“Fixing this bike. Spoke is a bit off.”
“Ohhhh,” he feigned interest. “Are you really good at mechanical things?”
“No, no, not really, just bikes, I guess.”
“Well, I can’t do anything with my hands.”
“Yea, well.” He didn’t know what to say next.
“Well, actually” Michael, as Sandra, added, “I can do some things pretty darned good with my hands,” smiling suggestively.
Jim’s faced turned red. He doubted that she meant what he inferred, and he hoped she wouldn’t notice his reddening face. But, thinking about that made his face even redder. It was pretty dark though.
Michael could see Jimmy’s face reddening. He wondered if he was going too far, too fast, but he really didn’t have much time. Marcia would probably be upset about him arriving late, although it would at least give her more time to pick things up. “Jimmy, can I show you something?”
“What? Show me something?” He wondered if she wanted to show him something from the shopping bag.
Michael held the bag behind his back and slowly turned Marcia’s breasts left and right. He had seen girls do that before, and he had found it pretty darned enticing. And, it was clear that Jimmy did as well. He was desperately trying not to look at his, her, tits, but they were like hypnotic watches, going left and right, left and right, before his eyes.
“Yea, over here, come over here with me.” Michael reached out, took Jimmy by the hand, and led him over to a place behind one of the apartments, where it was particularly private and dark.
“What’s over here?” Jim asked, feeling quite perplexed by this, but certainly enjoying the fact that this girl was holding his hand. He wondered if she had found some interesting moth or something. He did like insects.
“Here,” the girl said, when she reached a nicely secluded spot. She let go of his hand, dropped the bag, turned to him and, looking into his eyes, smiling, she began to unbutton her blouse.
Jim, to say the least, was dumfounded, speechless. It did not make sense. There was no good reason that a girl would want to unbutton her blouse for him. Heck, he didn’t even know this girl. But, why would he question it? Why would he raise any objection or concern? He might be a nerd but he wasn’t stupid. He was not about to say or do anything that might undermine this moment, that might deter this girl from finishing what she was apparently doing.
Jim glanced left, right, and behind to be sure that they were indeed alone, nor in any apparent sight of anyone, although he didn’t study his surroundings for long. He did not want to take his eyes off what was much more interesting right in front of him. As each button came undone his cock seemed to grow bigger and bigger in his pants.
Michael could see how much pleasure he was providing his friend, and he felt reaffirmed that he was doing the right thing. He opened up Marcia’s blouse to show his friend her two lovely white bubbies, tucked away in their plain white brassiere.
Jim felt like a boy in a candy store, seeing before his eyes two very, very large coconut cakes. He just loved those as a kid and still did today, but these soft white mounds were of course even more tempting and lovely to behold. He was actually feasting his eyes on a girl’s set of big round white boobs! They were still in their brassiere, of course, but that did not diminish their appeal. On the contrary, it also had its own special appeal, as he was seeing them in a state of undress, enclosed within a girl’s personal undergarments.
“Feel them,” she said softly.
“What?”
“You heard me, silly,” she replied. “Reach underneath and feel me up.”
Jim thought his cock might explode in his pants. He certainly knew that if he touched those big soft tits his dick was likely to shoot off. He was going to get his first feel of a girl’s tits, and these were even really nice ones on a pretty girl. He couldn’t believe his luck. It was like he had won some sort of raffle. Of course, he hadn’t, but there was simply no way he was going to question this.
He reached out with both hands and slipped them underneath, up and under the pretty girl’s brassiere, to grasp firmly in his hands her two soft round bubbies. He had never felt anything so wonderful before. They were so squishy, so sexy, so exciting. He felt them around and around, covering every possible inch, groping around like a starving man in the dark who was suddenly provided with two wonderfully tasty melons.
Michael had to smile, although he hoped it would look like a smile of pleasure rather than amusement. He now understood more fully how it would feel for a woman to be groped and mauled by an inexperienced boy. Yet, he had to admit, it did still feel kind of good. He closed his eyes, finding that the more he saw the hands as belonging to his friend, the more odd the experience felt in his mind. In his body, her body, it did actually feel rather nice. He tried to imagine that it was Marcia’s hands groping him. He couldn’t really get to that point in his imagination, but it did help to try.
Michael did particularly like it when he reached her nipples. He could even feel them stretching out with excitement and arousal at his touch, his squeezing, his pinching.
Jim particularly liked it when he reached her nipples. He could even feel them stretching out with excitement and arousal at his touch, his squeezing, his pinching. He pushed up her brassiere farther to not only feel them, but to look at them as well.
They popped out like two balloons reaching the surface of the water. He was mesmerized by their sight; their lily whiteness standing out in the darkness, reflecting the light of the moon. And, those nipples! They were so pointy, so perky, so suckably tempting. His dick was so swollen, so stiff, in his briefs.
“Can I? Um, can I? You know.” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. It just seemed too forward, too dirty to put it into words.
Michael opened his eyes and responded gaily, “You want to kiss them? To suck them? Why of course, silly, that’s what a girl’s titties are for!” He kind of liked being the girl he would personally like to have met. He wondered when this was all done whether he and Jim could in fact trade places using Marcia’s body. He recalled when they were much younger they had traded back and forth dirty magazines they had managed to steal or find, and at times even purchased. He kind of doubted though that Marcia would agree to have her body traded back and forth between two guys.
“But,” he, or she, added, “you have to take your cock out. I want to see how big and manly you are.” He giggled at his silliness, but his giggling just sounded like a silly girl giggling with delight.
“Yea, sure,” Jim gladly replied. That was more than a fair bargain, although he didn’t really consider his cock to be particularly big, and he was a bit worried that she would be disappointed once she saw it. But, she really wouldn’t then laugh at him, would she?
He glanced around again, now feeling a bit more concerned about being outdoors. It was one thing to have her with her tits out, it was quite another to have his cock out. But, he couldn’t see much of anything in the darkness. There were scattered persons walking around, but the two of them were well hidden behind a couple of bushes, and there was little reason for anyone to walk back where they were. He quickly unzipped his slacks and reached into his briefs.
It was a little difficult for him to extract his stiff cock through the narrow slit of his briefs. He actually never even used the flap when he peed. He would just pull the waistband down. That seemed easier. But, he didn’t want to do that here, being a bit concerned about his pants and briefs actually falling down. What if somebody did discover them? He would have to take off running, and he could hardly do that with his briefs and slacks around his ankles. He did eventually manage to extract it, and it popped out into the cool evening air like a jack-in-the-box springing into action.
“Oh my goodness, Jimmy,” she said. “He’s every big as I thought he would be! You must really scare the girls with this one.”
Jim was shocked. There was no way he was really, actually, big, was he? He had certainly seen many a picture of a man’s erection in porno pictures and movies he saw on-line, and he rarely found one as small as him. But, then, maybe it’s because in the movies they are all pretty much actors, and they would probably prefer guys who were especially big. Porno movies did tend to favor large breasted girls. Maybe they favored big dick guys as well. And, this girl has to have seen quite a few of them herself. She was obviously not shy when it came to sex. He was feeling pretty darned good about himself, but he feigned modesty. “Well, no, no, not really.”
She placed a hand on his chest, and while looking at his cock she replied, “Oh don’t be so modest. I’ve, um, I’ve seen quite a few.” He was about to say, ‘licked and sucked quite a few,’ but then it would have been difficult not to also lick and suck Jim’s, and he really felt that would be going too far. In fact, he could not bring himself to touch Jim’s cock. That just didn’t seem right, and he doubted that it would feel right. How could he really look Jim in the face again after he had jerked him off?
But, still, he did feel somewhat oddly attracted to it. He did feel an urge to touch it. He wondered if Marcia’s physiology, her hormones, were beginning to penetrate, permeate, his mind, his feelings. He looked away. It was a little too confusing. “Oh, I just can’t even look at it anymore! It’s so scary! It looks all angry and mean and everything.”
Michael lifted up Marcia’s skirt. “Here,” he said, holding her skirt up with his left hand, using his right to take hold of Jim’s hand and bring it underneath, to her panties. “Play with me while you play with yourself. That will be so much fun!”
She was indeed right about that, Jim thought. It would be even more fun and make more sense if she played with him while he played with her, but this was hardly sucking the hind tit, so to speak. In fact, he did just that, leaning forward to suck on one of her nipples while he slid his fingers under her panties, to her cunnie, stroking his cock with his other hand.
It was awkward for Jim. He had never tried to slip his fingers under a girl’s panties before, and he was even having to do it with his left hand. He quickly changed hands. He didn’t normally jerk off with his left hand, but the more important task at hand was the girl’s pussy, and he certainly wanted to devote much of his effort and attention to that, for his sake as much as for hers. This was his first time with a girl. He did want to make a good first impression and, besides, it wouldn’t take much to bring himself off.
He now more easily slipped his fingers beneath her panties, coming into contact with the soft rising mound, the thin, curly fluff of hair, and her slit: a girl’s slit, a girl’s cunt. He squeezed his cock with his left hand. Trading hands had been the right thing to do, as he could do so much more with his right hand and he really had very little to do with his left, just having to stroke his fist up and down his shaft. That was something he was pretty darned good at. The fingers of his right hand had the more singular task to explore this wonderful and mysterious part of a girl, as well as to try to please her.
He tried to slide his fingers up and down her slit, but it wasn’t that easy as her panties were so tight. He groped and twisted more than he fondled and fingered.
Michael could feel his friend struggling. He clearly was not at all experienced at this. “Here, wait” Michael said, reaching beneath Marcia’s skirt to grasp the waistband of her panties and pull them down, down to her thighs, to make Jim’s access easier. Michael was frankly concerned that Jim might actually tear Marcia’s panties, he was groping around so clumsily beneath them. He leaned back against the wall of the apartment building, and spread open her legs.
This was much easier for Jim. He could now more readily get his fingers into her slit, and slide them up and down, searching for her opening, all the while feeling her getting wetter and wetter. He bent forward again and wrapped his lips around a stiff nipple, sucking on it as he explored and caressed the girl’s slit.
“Hmmmm,” he heard the girl sigh in her soft feminine voice as his lips suckled her nipple and his finger finally found her hole. He slipped it up inside. It was tight, really tight, and boy did it feel so good, so cool, to be slipping a finger up inside a girl’s wet, slick, slippery slit. He didn’t realize they would be this tight. He imagined if it was actually his cock, but even just imagining this put him closer to the edge.
“Oh man,” she gasped, and quite sincerely so. It had felt really pretty darned good to Michael to finger himself earlier, but the finger of someone else was also pretty fantastic as well. It didn’t have the double whammy of him fingering her at the same time feeling fingered, but it was still awfully good. No matter whom it was, it was quite apparent that Marcia’s cunt did like being fingered. “Hurry,” he gasped. He knew it was getting late.
Jim began to finger her in a more rushed, frantic, and hurried manner, which really wasn’t what Michael had meant.
“Oh man,” he again responded. “Your finger is so good, you finger me so good. You’re such a big, strong man. Finger me like a dirty filthy slut. Fuck my little girlish slit with your finger! Fuck me like it was your big, nasty hard cock!”
Jim was astonished at the filth which came from this cute, petite girl. But, by her behavior alone it was rather evident that she was not particularly shy or innocent.
Michael could not imagine Marcia ever talking like that, but he would certainly enjoy it, and, most importantly, he knew Jimmy would definitely enjoy it.
And Jim did indeed enjoy it. In fact, the feel her moist erect nipple on his lips, her slippery tight cunt on his finger, and her voice gushing such profane obscene lust pushed him over the edge. “I’m going to do it,” he gasped.
“Me too! Me too!” He heard her exclaim, “I’m cumming all over your finger! Fuck, oh fuck, Jimmy, you finger me so fucking good!”
“Here it cums,” he warned, feeling that sense of inevitable explosion.
“Yes, yes! Squirt it everywhere Jimmy!” And with that urging Michael shifted quickly to his left, slipping Jim’s finger out of Marcia’s pussy, his lips off her tit, and her body out of the way of his cock.
Jim felt his mind become cloudy and confused, his legs weak and wobbly, as his body was wracked with the force of his climax coursing through him, his cock jerking and twitching in his hand as it shot its globs and ropes of cum out into the cool night air. Through his glazed eyes he watched the eruptions spew forth, spraying out far from his body, splatting against the side of the apartment building.
All the while the pretty girl, now largely to his side, pressed her naked breast, the nipple hard and wet with his sucking, against his arm, whispering obscenely into his ear, “Oh Jimmy, look at it, you have so much manly hot spunk, so much cum, look at it blast so far, what a fucking man, so strong, so manly, so much sticky gooey slimy spunk.”
It was by far his best orgasm to date. He leaned into her, not only to enjoy the feel of her breast but also simply to help steady himself, as he basked in the bliss of his orgasm and the sight of his apparently very manly shots of cum. He felt so good, and so proud. He didn’t think he had ever shot his cum with such force before. He never felt better in his life.
When he was done she stepped back to pull up her panties, push her brassiere back down over her breasts, and button her blouse, all the while saying, “Now Jimmy, you need to keep this secret. I have a very jealous boyfriend. He doesn’t do anything with me, and so I’ve got to find other guys to have fun with.”
Jim thought, ‘Well, maybe that explains it,’ or at least that was all the explanation he needed. He just stood there, his dick beginning to lose its rigidity, cum still leaking from the tip. He would normally squeeze out the last few drops, but felt a bit self-conscious to do that in front of her.
She continued to explain, “When he found out once he really hurt the guy, and me, really bad. So, if you ever see me again, just pretend like you don’t know me. And, if you’re good about that, maybe we can do this again. Okay?”
“Yea, sure,” he replied. Just standing there with his slackening, dripping dick was also making him feel self-conscious. He stuck it back into his pants. He would just suffer a bit of leakage into his shorts.
She picked up her shopping bag, smiled at him, said, “See-ya boss,” and then took off into the darkness.
Jim watched her go, fondly looking at her skirt and bottom swaying as she scampered off. Boy, did he have a story to tell Mike! Of course, though, he would never believe him, and then he realized, that’s how Mike always says good-bye, ‘see-ya boss.’ How weird is that!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Michael quickly made his way to Marcia’s apartment. He was now a bit late, but not terribly so. He rang the door bell.
Marcia knew who it was, but she did first check by looking through the peep hole. Yes, it was Michael, but it was also her standing out there. That was so, so weird. And, much to her chagrin and shock, she looked horrible!
She quickly opened the door. “What have you done with my body?!”
“What? Nothing.” Michael was standing before her, in her body, and her clothes, a perplexed look on his face. He hadn’t really done much of anything, had he? Well, maybe he had. Quite a bit, in fact. Jim’s finger and the banana came to mind. But, he didn’t look that bad, did he?
Actually he did. Her hair was a mess, and made even worse by the baseball cap. Plus, her clothes were disheveled, her blouse was only half-tucked in, a button was undone, and she even seemed a little sweaty.
“Get in here real quick before anyone sees me!” It was sort of an odd thing to say. Hopefully none of her neighbors were stepping out of their apartments right now. She pulled him into hers, exclaiming, “I can’t believe you were walking around like this!”
“Well, how else was I supposed to get here?” He really didn’t think he looked that bad, although in the light he now noticed the undone button. He reached to button it, and then realized that he couldn’t because in his rush he had buttoned her blouse wrong, skipping a loop. These girl shirts were so backward, so weird!
“You’re even sweating. Oh my goodness. What were you doing? Did you run over here?”
That was actually a good excuse for his condition. “Yea, yea, that’s right. I didn’t want anyone to see me, or um….you.”
“And what are you doing with a baseball cap on my hair! You don’t wear a cap with this hair.” She pulled off the cap. “Oh my goodness! Look at that. My hair! Look what you have done!”
“Yea, yea, I know,” he replied sheepishly. “That’s why I called you.”
“Get out of those clothes and into the shower.”
“What? Right now? Here? In front of you?”
“Don’t be so silly. It’s not like I haven’t seen myself before.”
That was a good point. How strange it all was. He had not felt at all uncomfortable undressing before the professor, but he did now, because Marcia was a girl. Yet, it was in fact her body. He put down the bag and started to take off her clothes.
“Wait you ninny!” Marcia exclaimed.
“What!?” Michael responded. First she tells him to take off his clothes and now she tells him to stop. Girls were always so unpredictable.
Marcia went over to the large sliding glass doors that covered much of the side of her living room that looked out onto the parking lot and other apartments. “I don’t want anyone to see you, well, I mean, me, naked. Geeeeeez.” She did though realize the open view had not troubled her earlier when she had undressed, in Michael’s body. She blushed thinking about how someone might have, could have, and probably did see an entirely naked boy in her apartment, with an erection. That didn’t actually bother her too much though. It would be good for her reputation, or at least to develop one. But, she certainly wouldn’t tell Michael about that.
Once she got the curtains closed she turned back to Michael and said, “What’s in the bag?”
As he resumed disrobing she didn’t wait for him to answer. She opened it up. “Clothes again? In a bag?” How do guys actually take care of themselves? Do they send their clothes home to their mothers to be cleaned and pressed? She pulled the clothes out of the bag and shook her head. Not only were they now all wrinkled, but she hated them. No way was he going to go on campus tomorrow in one of these outfits. Despite her reservations and concern, she would have to loan him one of her dresses, and blouse. How weird it would be to dress him, like she had a big doll of her own body. And, she noticed, he didn’t even have any fresh panties! What was he planning on doing? Her face reddened at the thought of him going on campus with no panties. He couldn’t have been planning on doing that, could he? Or, alternatively, just putting on the old pair? That was perhaps even worse. Do boys not wear fresh underwear? They are so dirty!
Lost in her thoughts as she pulled the clothes from the bag she had not been noticing Michael undress. When she was done inspecting the contents of the bag, so was he done undressing, at least down to the socks and shoes. She turned to see herself standing there, entirely naked, except for his, or her, socks and shoes.
It was at first awfully strange, seeing yourself standing in front of you, naked. This was most definitely indeed an out-of-body experience. Although, it was also very much like just standing in front of a mirror, seeing your reflection. And, she did have to say that she did have a pretty darned good body, if she said so herself. Her breasts were really quite perky and very well rounded. She even liked how her nipples stood up so sprightly and, well, she patted herself on the back for taking the time to trim herself, down there. The trace of a smile could be seen on her lips as she gazed upon her well-coiffed cunnie lips. Yes, this was really a very nice body. She almost felt like getting a picture.
She felt his cock stirring in his pants, suddenly beginning to swell. ‘What is it with these guys,’ she thought. Do they just get erections every hour or so? That would certainly be inconvenient, and then she realized that it really shouldn’t be terribly surprising for him to get aroused looking at an entirely naked girl. After all, he might not have even seen one yet. She smiled at that thought. It was still weird for her to be having the erection, in his body, looking at herself, but she was right now only her mind, her memories, with his body, his hormones, his perceptual system. He would naturally respond to the sight of a naked girl, and apparently a really very attractive one at that!
Michael could see that Marcia was deep in thought, and the nature of that thought was very clear. Her eyes were studying her boobs. Well, it was his eyes, and he reckoned he would in fact be doing just that if Marcia was standing like this in front of him. He just stood there, letting her look. It was, after all, her body, but he made a note to himself that it was pretty obvious to the girl when you’re looking at her tits. His eyes then went to her cunt. At first he just let her stare at him there as well, but he finally had to cover himself with her hands, cover her breasts and her cunnie. It just didn’t feel right to have this guy ogle him like that, even if it was himself. He didn’t know if he wanted him to enjoy it or not. He did though wish that the doctor might be wrong about retaining a memory once your back in your own body. He would like his body to remember this moment. This was so terribly confusing. It then dawned on him that he had not gotten a picture of Marcia’s body naked. He would have to remember to do that when he got back to his own apartment.
Marcia saw him cover herself up. “Don’t be silly, Michael. It’s me. Please.” She reached out and took his hand away from her breasts, his cock responding with delight as her breasts wiggled back into view.
“Yea, well,” Michael replied, “If it’s no big deal, then you take off your clothes too.”
Marcia was taken aback by that. He had a good point. She would certainly feel rather awkward about doing so. After all, she was a girl! What girl would not be uncomfortable taking her clothes off in front of a boy she had known less than a day. Goodness gracious!
No! Wait! Actually she wasn’t a girl. She was a guy. Why wouldn’t a guy not be willing to take his clothes off in front of a girl? Heck, Michael would probably jump at the opportunity, and quite obviously so, given her current state of nudity, right in her living room. And, besides, it wasn’t even her body. It was his. Why should she care if he sees his own body. However, what about his erection? That was a little embarrassing, wasn’t it? Or, was it? After all, it’s his penis. It’s not her responsibility that it gets so darned excited at the sight of her pretty naked body. This was all so terribly confusing.
She shrugged her shoulders and said, “Alright then,” and began to remove his clothes.
Michael was now taken aback. He wondered if perhaps he might have been bluffing. Did he really want to see himself naked? He again covered Marcia’s breasts as he watched her remove his clothes.
As Marcia became more and more naked her inhibition, her ambivalence, decreased. It would be good for Michael to see how his penis is so much out of control. It might be a good lesson for him. When she reached the point of his slacks and boxers, she did not hesitate. She pulled them down to her ankles, stepped out of them, and then carefully folded them both as she placed them on her coffee table. She turned to face Michael.
Michael’s eyes widened as they fixed on his stiff erection. He really didn’t know how to react, or how he felt. It was, of course, something he had seen many, many times before. It was just so strange seeing it now on someone else. Well, not really on someone else. He had found it rather awkward to look at Jim’s erect cock, but he didn’t have that reaction looking at his own. Frankly, he thought it looked pretty good. He might be biased in that regard, but it did look awfully stout, proud, and impressive. A little grin formed on his lips.
He recalled as a young man having a period of time when he had a rather strange sex dream. It was during a time in which he had been repeatedly trying to actually suck himself off. However, no matter how hard he tried, no matter what position he got into, he just never could get his hard dick into his mouth. He had never, of course, told anyone about the attempts, not even Jim. He worried that they might think he was some sort of a pervert, or that it suggested he was homosexual or something. But, goodness, if he enjoyed jerking himself off, why not enjoy sucking himself off. You jerk yourself off, and that certainly doesn’t make you gay. Imagine being able to give yourself head anytime you wanted to. He was again reminded why he kept trying over and over again to suck his own cock. If he had a cock now, it would swell and stiffen as much as this one. What he did feel was moisture gathering on his lips.
In any case, in his dreams, at night, he suddenly gained the ability to actually remove his cock from his body, and bring it up to his mouth. The dream never did last too long though. He would typically wake up as soon as his lips touched his cock, and he was always disappointed when that happened. He didn’t know why he always woke up at that point. It could be because he was getting too excited, but that might not be the reason because he had some other genuine wet dreams that went all the way to fruition. It could also be that sucking himself off was just too disturbing for his mind to handle, to accept, even though he had been repeatedly trying to do it in real life.
Marcia’s voice broke his reverie. “Look at this thing, will you?”
He certainly was looking at it. He removed his hand from her breasts as he considered his erection.
“What’s wrong with you guys, anyway. It like gets this way every few minutes! Are you on like some sort of Viagra, or something?”
Michael did one time have an erection that lasted longer than four hours. But, that had been intentional and pretty darned fantastic. It had been a Saturday afternoon devoted to pornography and masturbation. He loved to repeatedly bring himself real, real close to an orgasm and then stop. It was like foreplay but extended exponentially. And, when he did finally climax, it was spectacular. The volume, pressure, and force of his ejaculation was a marvel to behold. That might actually make a pretty good Olympic event. If synchronized swimming, BMX racing, and live pigeon shooting are Olympic sports, then why not cum shooting (actually, live pigeon shooting didn’t last more than one Olympics).
“Are you listening to me?”
“What?”
“Look at you! Isn’t this at all embarrassing? Don’t you think an apology is in order?”
Michael finally stood up for himself, and his cock. “Hey, c’mon, I’m not the one with the erection!”
Marcia scowled, ready to argue back. It was his body. He should be taking responsibility for it. She certainly didn’t feel that she had any real control over it. But, as she thought about it he might have a point. Yes, it was his body but she was the one in charge of it now. It’s not like it was under his control at the moment. Still, though, wasn’t the fact that his body kept getting erections indicative of how it was like in the past? It wasn’t like she kept trying to get erections. Well, maybe she had been. She just responded by saying, “This whole thing is a bit confusing, you know.”
“Yea, you’re telling me,” Michael agreed.
She looked down at his stiffness. “I just don’t know if I can control it.” She reached for it, and softly stroked it. It just seemed like the right thing to do at the time.
“Well, there is this very pretty girl standing naked right in front of him.”
Marcia blushed. It was nice of him to say that, but it did make her feel a bit self-conscious. She let go of his cock. “Yes, well, you know, you really need a trim,” she said.
“What?”
“When was the last time you took care of this?”
Now he understood. She was talking about trimming his pubic hair. He didn’t think the honest answer (i.e., never) would really make him look too good. “Um, I don’t know.”
“Well, we can take care of that tonight too. C’mon let’s get cleaned up and then we can do your hair, both of them.” She took him by the hand and led him out of the living room, down the hall, and into the bathroom, for what would now be her third shower that day.
This shower though was considerably more playful than her prior two. This time she was sharing it with a girl, with herself. It was a bit strange, of course. But, frankly, having a joint shower was a good way to break the ice, to get comfortable with each other, each other’s bodies, in a playful, innocent way. Well, not entirely innocent when you’re naked together, and one of you has a straining erection, but it wasn’t like they were awkwardly sitting naked next to each other on the couch, trying to make conversation, trying to ignore the fact that they were in each other’s bodies. Plus, a good hot shower can be a nice way to mutually, jointly, wash away the stress of the day, and there certainly had been a lot of that.
They even washed each other’s backs. This was only natural when showering with a member of the opposite sex, and they both enjoyed it. Marcia in particular enjoyed it, feeling the soft hands of the girl washing his back. It certainly didn’t help though in losing his erection. Michael in fact had to admit that he was actually very glad to do it, as he couldn’t remember the last time he had washed his back.
When he was done, Marcia turned around, showing him again his really hard, stiff erection, a little flirtatious smile on his, or her, face.
Michael again fixed his eyes on his cock. It did look awfully good, if he said so himself. He lathered up his hands, reached out, and grabbed hold.
Marcia gasped, but didn’t pull away. It was rather apparent that the stiff cock couldn’t be happier than to have girlish hands soaping him up.
Nor did Michael have the reaction that he thought he might, or at least was worried about. He had felt his cock many, many, many times before. It didn’t really feel any different. In fact, holding, washing, playing with his cock actually felt quite natural, quite comfortable, quite nice, unlike how it would have felt to grab hold of Jim’s dick. His only real concern was that he couldn’t feel her hands on his cock, from the perspective of his cock. How odd, and ironic. It’s the first time he gets a handjob from a girl, and he isn’t even there to enjoy it! He gave his dick a real good and thorough washing. He knew that his dick would like that very, very much. It might not be with him right now, but it was essentially his best friend and he was going to take good care of him.
And Marcia certainly appreciated it. She had previously enjoyed playing with his cock, both as a giver and a receiver. She was now just the receiver, but it did still feel awfully, awfully good, perhaps in some respects even better, as these were now the hands of another person, who was really doing a pretty thorough job slipping and sliding her soft soapy hands all over and around and everywhere.
It didn’t even trouble her that it was her doing it. On the contrary, it was kind of like watching a movie of herself, playing with a guy’s stiffie in her shower. She had always thought that it would be fun to take a shower with a boyfriend. Everything would be so clean, so playful, and so personal. Well, there she was. And, doing a very good job at it, if she said so herself.
In fact, perhaps too good of a job. She grabbed Michael’s hand to stop him. “Wait, wait,” she gasped. “You better stop.”
Michael immediately understood the concern. Feeling his cock wasn’t so bad, wasn’t bad at all. But, he wasn’t quite sure if he was ready to have him cum on himself, although he had also done that plenty of times before.
They showered for awhile without any further extra stimulation. Well, not entirely so. There were still some playful bumps, exchanges of soap, teasing reaches around one another, and Marcia insisted on washing her hair. She used both a shampoo and a separate conditioner, and she wanted it to be thoroughly cleaned before they redid the hairdo.
Michael wasn’t insulted. He knelt down in the tub as she soaked, washed, scrubbed, and rinsed his hair. He kept his eyes closed, not only to avoid getting any soap in them, but also to imagine that it was a girl washing his hair. That made it a lot easier, and even enjoyable. He was also sat facing away from her, as he would have found it a bit awkward to have his erection repeatedly poking him in the face, although a part of him was actually kind of interested in that, wondering if he could in fact actually live out that fantasy of youth. It was now an actual possibility.
After she had rinsed his hair he stood up, turned around, and said, “What about my other hair?”
“What?” She wasn’t so sure she had heard him correctly, through the noise of the spraying water, the water in her ears, and the incongruity of what he was saying.
“I washed you, down there, don’t you think you should return the favor?”
Marcia giggled.
Michael frowned. He would never giggle like that. He sure hoped that she didn’t giggle like that tomorrow, in front of any of his friends she might meet. He might have to give her a few lessons in being a man, or at least acting like one. Real men don’t giggle and titter!
Marcia’s heart accelerated as she lathered up a hand and reached out to her cunnie, to “wash” it. Her heart raced as she felt her cunnie within the palm, the fingers, of her hand.
Like Michael, she didn’t find the sensation of feeling her own cunnie terribly unusual. Why should it? It was certainly a bit weird, feeling it with her fingers, recognizing its feel, but not feeling the fingers with her cunnie. Still, it was rather nice, and she quickly got to work, but not really to wash him, or it, but to play with it, to enjoy it, to have it enjoy being played with it.
Michael braced himself in the shower. It was very clear that she really knew how to excite it, how to get a girl excited, which, of course, made pretty darned good sense as it was her cunt and she had probably done this a few times herself. He made mental notes to remember precisely what she was doing, and how she was doing it. He closed his eyes and felt his pussy getting warmer and warmer with her sensual lathering, soaping, and caressing.
Marcia rinsed it off and knelt down to kiss it, to lick it, her heart fluttering as she did so. She had never thought about doing that to herself, in real life. But, she had tried to kiss herself in Michael’s body, kiss his cock, and it seems only natural now, only right, to kiss and lick her cunt while he was in her body. She would obviously never have this chance again. And, it wasn’t at all aversive to her, which did surprise her somewhat. It could be because women are generally more comfortable in kissing other women, even on the lips, although perhaps not on the lips between their legs. Perhaps that would be going too far. But, the fact that it was actually her own cunnie lips did probably help quite a bit. And, perhaps it helped that she was in Michael’s body, perhaps her mind was being affected by his body: the interest, the desires, of his body becoming the interests, the desires, of her mind. She did certainly get an erection when looking at her naked body.
Well, it wasn’t really necessary to figure it out. What was clearly true was that she not only didn’t mind doing this, she enjoyed doing it! It was really very nice to make love to the other person in such a personal, intimate way, the warm water spraying down on her like they were outside in the pouring rain. She wrapped her lips tightly around her clit, sucking, nibbling, and licking it, as she slid a finger in and out of her tight, quivering cunnie. She knew her cunnie, and she could tell that it was getting very, very excited.
Michael was indeed breathing heavily. He subtly, gently, and as politely as he could, ground his cunt into Marcia’s lips, or perhaps he ground her cunt into his lips. It just wasn’t clear how to think about it, but it didn’t really matter how precisely he thought about it, it just felt so awfully good. He knew as a man, when he was entirely and solely a man, that he would fully enjoying making love to a woman this way. He would be happy to kiss and lick her down there, just as much as he would hope that she would be willing to do so for him. Well, perhaps not just as much. When he was being honest, he would have to admit that he would prefer being a receiver than a giver. But, now he wasn’t so sure, as he was now in her shoes, her body, her cunt, and he now knew, experienced, firsthand, how much pleasure he could provide her by doing this for her.
“Wait, wait,” he finally gasped, realizing that he was getting pretty close to an orgasm. He wasn’t so sure that she would really want him to do that. It wasn’t really clear why she wouldn’t, but it did seem like one should ask the girl if it’s alright to have an orgasm with, in, her body, particularly when doing so right in front of her. He certainly had some feelings of uncertainty, if not guilt, in bringing her body to orgasm earlier.
Marcia stopped. She wasn’t entirely sure why Michael would want her to stop. She couldn’t imagine a boy actually wanting her to stop before having an orgasm when she’s giving him oral sex. But, perhaps he was feeling a little self-conscious about having an orgasm in her body. For all he knew he might act or appear foolish or weird looking. She certainly knew that she would feel very self-conscious about displaying her orgasm to a boy, letting him see her cum, particularly on their first date, if that’s what this in fact was. Was this a date? If it wasn’t, they sure were going awfully far. Actually, if it was their first date, they were still going awfully far.
She got back to her feet and they finished showering, this time entirely avoiding any further contact, both lost in self-conscious uncertainty and confusion over what was happening and what they really felt.
Marcia got out of the shower first.
Michael stepped out a bit gingerly, not only because he was still rather weak in the legs, but also being smaller than Marcia.
Marcia looked back at Michael and then realized that she should be helping him out. If she had still been in that body, her own body, she would have been surprised at Michael’s less than chivalrous behavior in not helping her, the young lady, step out of the shower. “Here, let me help you,” she said, offering her (his) hand to help him steady his (her) body. Better late than never in being a proper gentleman.
“No, no. No problem, that’s fine,” Michael replied, feeling a bit emasculated at the thought that Marcia felt he actually might need help getting out of a shower, although his steps were a bit uncertain. He really didn’t want to slip and fall in her body. He had done it once already.
They dried themselves off with Marcia’s rather large, fluffy, and soft bath towels. Michael had to admit that he did like them, including even their pleasant scents. Girls were real good at some things.
Marcia then had Michael come to her bedroom where she could put up her hair in curlers. She considered suggesting to him that he put on some of her after bath powder and scents. But, she wondered if he might find that too girlish. He was, after all, a guy at heart, or at least in mind. She did though hand him a bathrobe, so he might feel more comfortable, physically and psychologically.
Michael wasn’t so sure that the robe in fact made him feel more comfortable, psychologically, as it was this bright, flowery silk robe, with frilly lace on the collar and sleeves. However, he didn’t complain. He could tell that it was probably her best robe. He did, though, almost complain when she put another girly robe on his body. He didn’t feel he looked at all good, or right, in that.
But, the worst, of course, was sitting before her vanity mirror while she combed and brushed out his hair, and then put it in curlers. All the while she was explaining to him how it was done, how to spray a bit before the curlers are in to help set the hair (too much afterward can weight the hair down and make it go flat); to use the larger curlers for more of a deep wavy effect, the small and medium ones for tight curls. Use a longer roller and just spiral it on so that it doesn’t overlap on the curler. If you have really long hair it’s best to start at one end of the curler and work to the other. Use butterfly clips instead of the metal pins that come with the curlers.
He couldn’t have been more bored, but he did try to feign an interest. After all, she was putting a lot of effort into this. He did though vow to express more appreciation for a girl’s hairdo after this. He really hadn’t realized how much work went into it.
When she was done she said, “Okay then, my turn.”
“What?” He felt his hair, on her, looked fine. She certainly wasn’t planning on putting curlers in his hair, was she?
She explained, “I just think you could use a little trim, don’t you think? A little shaping too perhaps.”
He really didn’t want her to cut his hair, although he knew that perhaps it was time for a trim. But, still, he would much prefer a professional barber did that, or at least one of those pretty girls at Barber Babes (they even gave you free beer). “Well, that’s okay, don’t worry about. I can take care of that later.”
Marcia wondered why he was so reluctant. She wasn’t going to cut it all off. Although, when she thought about it, she could understand one concern, and it made her smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t cut it off. I’ll be very careful.”
He looked at her puzzled, and then understood. “Oh.” He had forgotten what she had said earlier. He had never imagined having his hair cut, down there. And he certainly hadn’t imagined asking a barber to do that. The Barber Babes don’t do that. Do they? Of course not, but it would be nice if they did. But, still, he wasn’t too sure that he wanted Marcia poking and cutting around there with some scissors. “Oh, I don’t know.”
“C’mon,” she replied. “Trust me, you’ll like it. Here, look,” she said, opening up the lower part of his bathrobe to display her own finely coiffed pussy growth. “Don’t you think mine looks nice?”
He looked down between her legs. She was right about that. Her shaved and trimmed pussy did look nice: very, very nice, in fact. Much nicer really than just letting some thick bush grow willy nilly. He could tell that she must even be shaving parts of it. “You’re not going to shave it, are you?” After all, it wasn’t like she had a lot of experience shaving around penises. Heck, she might even be thinking of shaving his balls!
She opened up her bathrobe so that he could see his motley, disheveled growth. “Just around the edges, like here, and here,” she pointed. By now her (his?) erection was gone. It was a little weird for him to be so dispassionately inspecting his own soft penis and testicles, considering some hair styling. But, if he imagined that he was looking into a mirror it wasn’t too strange. “Well, don’t get carried away or anything.”
“No, no, I promise. You’ll love it, I’m sure. And, you can watch, of course.”
Somehow he wasn’t so sure he really wanted to do that. “That’s okay,” he replied, his considerable reluctance evident in his tone. He didn’t mind watching himself get a tetanus shot, but watching someone use scissors around his dick and balls was a little disconcerting. She better not cut it! He certainly wouldn’t take a comparable chance with her pussy. Well, actually, he had fallen off the bathroom sink just to get a good look at her asshole, and he had shoved a banana up her cunt. “I’ll, um, wait for you out in the living room.”
She realized that it might in fact be best if he wasn’t there. She had given a friend of hers a light trim once, a trim of the hair on her head. And, boy, was that stressful. It was an emergency cut before a date, just the bangs and some curls around the ears, but it seemed like everything she did was wrong. Maybe it’s not a good idea to have the boy watch while you trim, cut, and shave the hair all around and on his manhood and jewels. “Well, listen, why don’t you make some popcorn or something. It won’t take long.”
Making popcorn while someone, in a different room, is shaving your nuts? That just doesn’t sound right, but it also did make some sense. “Yea, well, okay, but be careful.”
“I’ll treat it as if it was my own,” she said, reassuringly. Which it now sort of was.
He took a deep breath and agreed, asking, “Where’s the popcorn?” He did like microwave popcorn. He hoped she had Orville Reddenbocker, with extra butter. That was his favorite.
“Top right cupboard, above the breadbox. Use the Orville Reddenbocker, extra butter. That’s my favorite.”
‘Cool,’ he thought. They did at least have that in common. Well, actually, right now, he supposed, they had a lot in common, in a matter of speak. He went to the kitchen to make some popcorn.
Marcia picked up what she needed and proceeded to the bathroom. She first just did a nice careful trim, and a bit of shaping. His hair, though, was really quite unruly. She smiled at the thought of perhaps trying to straighten it, or gave it a nice wave or curl, but she knew that wouldn’t look particularly masculine, or appealing. She also felt that she really couldn’t, or at least shouldn’t, give it a significant shave, as it currently shaded into the hair on his abdomen and thighs. Still, though, she had to admit that she didn’t really like the few scattered hairs that were actually growing out of his penis. She knew she wouldn’t like that if she did in fact ever perform oral sex on him (she blushed at the realization of what she had just thought). As she trimmed and shaped his coiffure, she did feel that it was looking considerably better, much more presentable. She wouldn’t mind putting this young man in her mouth (her heart fluttered a bit). If Michael wasn’t in the kitchen she might give it another try!
And, with that thought, she noticed it swelling. She smiled. It was such a Pavlovian dog, wasn’t it. Just the thought of a girl wrapping her feminine lips around it, applying her soft wet tongue to it, got it all excited. Boys are so predictable!
Still, its stiffness did help with the final, most delicate cut, and so she thought more about licking him, sucking him, as a girl, and wrapping her soft pillow titties around it as it plunged in and out of her mouth, squeezing gently his balls, licking the tip with her tongue, all the while squeezing and stroking the shaft. It didn’t take long for it to get fully stiff, and she quickly applied the razor she used for her underarms and legs. A few quick and careful strokes the straggly hairs were sliced off.
When she was done she admired it in the mirror. She thought that it looked much, much better now. Well, it had looked pretty darned good already, but perhaps even handsomer now, so well groomed and everything. She would have to show it to Michael!
She scampered out of the bathroom and headed to the kitchen, the erect cock waving back and forth before her, apparently all very proud to show off his new shave and haircut.
It was a bit difficult for Michael to maintain the illusion that he was simply looking into a mirror when his largely naked body, sporting a raging hard-on, prances into the kitchen like a girl wanting to show off a new cut.
“Do you like it?!” Marcia exclaimed, very proud and very excited, in more ways than one.
“Marcia!” Michael exclaimed. The popcorn was long finished and he was munching on the full bowl of deep yellow popcorn, with lots of added salt. He liked it with lots of salt. He glanced over to her curtained sliding glass doors. Thank goodness she had pulled the drapes earlier.
“It’s okay, silly, c’mon, look, doesn’t he look nice?”
He would not imagine showing off his new haircut to a girl, not even a girlfriend, like he was fishing for some sort of compliment. He certainly wouldn’t show off his new “pubic perm.” Of course, he never would have even trimmed it. It was interesting to have his body owned by a girl for awhile. She was apparently even taking better care of it than he had done. He had to admit, his stuff did look better. “Yea, actually, it looks pretty good.”
“Really?” She replied. “You’re not just saying that?”
“No, no, really, I like my hair that way.”
She smiled. She hadn’t spent that much time on it, but it was clear that any simple trim and shaping would really improve it. She turned to her right so he could see how it looked from the side. “What about when you look at it from this way. Does it look okay?”
Actually, from the side he was now noticing more his erect state than the trim. It wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed it before, but one question did now dawn on him. “Hey, how come I have an erection?”
Marcia felt her face reddening. In all her excitement she did forgot about that. “Oh yeah, um, well….I, uh.” She really didn’t want to tell him about using her razor on it, nor did she want to embarrass him by telling him that she really didn’t like those few extra hairs growing off of it. “I, well,” her voice got softer, “I just kind of felt like playing with it, a bit.”
It was a risky confession, but better than bringing up the actual fact that she had put a sharp razor to it.
But, it opened a door for Michael, and for the both of them. “Yea, well,” he acknowledged, “I kind of did the same thing, once, a bit.”
Neither confession was particularly exhaustive or forthright, but each was enough to satisfy the other.
Marcia, and Michael, though were feeling a bit self-conscious about their admissions. Marcia reached into the refrigerator for some colas. “What do you like to drink?”
“Do you have any Dr. Pepper?” It was a long shot, but it was his favorite.
She smiled back at him. “That’s all I have,” and she pulled out a couple of bottles. As she opened them she said, “Grab the salt shaker and come over to the couch. I like popcorn with extra salt.”
As he grabbed the salt she handed him a Dr. Pepper and then led him over to the couch, his cock jutting out past her bath robe.
Marcia sat down first, covering his erection with her robe, although it was still notably evident. She wondered how boys dealt with this problem when they were in public. It must be rather embarrassing. She then realized that she should have let Michael sit first. He was not only the guest but also the girl, sort of.
Michael didn’t mind. He flopped down next to her.
Marcia furrowed her brow at that. She thought that she would have to instruct him as to how a girl, a lady, sits down, particularly when she is wearing only a bathrobe. But, in one regard they were well past the formality of polite courtesies, having lived in each other’s skin for quite some time now, or at least it felt that way.
They sat together on the couch for awhile, sipping soda, munching popcorn, and trading stories about each other’s lives. It was quite revealing and important, for the both of them. After all, it seemed only appropriate and right that they learn of the mind, the person, that was within the body.
Their discussion was in fact quite revealing, and reassuring. They soon came to discover that they had a number of similar interests. Beyond simply the romantic comedies, board games, afternoon walks in the park, college football, healthy foods, abstinence from alcohol and drugs, and the history channel, there was just their similar ways of viewing and experiencing the world, for which they were now, of course, even closer. Not too many persons are living within the other person’s body as they get to know each other. No dating service could offer that.
Marcia’s (or perhaps Michael’s) erection had dissipated with their talk, at least for awhile. After all, a life story isn’t necessarily a particularly erotic story. But, the top of Michael’s robe eventually fell open, revealing to Marcia’s eyes the sight of a naked breast, her naked breast. She at first felt the natural impulse to tell Michael, to advise him to cover up. As a girl, he probably should be careful about that.
But, another part of her hesitated. As a boy, would he really tell her that? A part of her was actually attracted to the sight of the naked titty flesh. She found herself continually glancing at that lovely white round boob, at times wiggling when Michael gestured. She could feel Michael’s penis slowly responding.
She placed a hand in her lap to hide its growth, but the physical contact seemed to only make it want to swell further.
Marcia asked softly, “Would you like to touch it now?”
Michael wasn’t sure what she was offering him.
She made it clearer. She put down her soda and opened up her robe to reveal his erection, popping out from her flower silk robe like an angry snake. She felt strangely quite proud of it.
She added, “I mean, well, after all, it is yours.”
Michael stared at his hard cock. When had he ever turned it down? Well, actually, quite a few times. There were the times it got hard during a class, leafing through a magazine at a book store, at his sister’s wedding reception, even once at church. There didn’t seem to be a situation in which he hadn’t, at least once, gotten an erection. And, he could hardly deny it when in the presence of a young naked woman’s body, could he?
Marcia realized that, as the man, she was supposed to make the first move. But, she didn’t really feel like much of a man, nor did it seem right to put the first move on herself, or at least on her own body. She smiled to herself, imagining some boy doing this the first time he visits her apartment, opening up his slacks to just let his hard dick stick out. It did seem a bit bold, nor likely would she have received such a gesture well, as Marcia. She slid over to sit closer to Michael and removed the bowl from his lap, the soda from his hand.
Michael could feel his heart racing. Of course, if he was really Michael right now, in his own body, he would bolt out that door, even in his bathrobe, if a guy slid over next to him with a hard cock sticking out his robe. But, it was his body, his cock, that was sliding over to him, and that really did not feel at all in appropriate, at least not in the sense it would be if it was some other guy.
“Touch my penis,” Marcia said, “my cock.” What an odd thing to really say, she thought, but also really very playfully fun.
Michael was almost trembling as he did so. He had already done so before, in the shower, but that had been more spontaneously playful. This was more serious. He gingerly took hold of his cock in his hand, instantly recognizing its feel, its strength, its hardness, its familiarity as his own. Grasping hold of it did in fact reaffirm for him that he was a guy, that he was once again holding in his hand, grasping and gripping in his hand, his stiff, hard cock. He felt he was, in one important regard, reconnecting with his body in a most personal way. It felt right, and it felt good; really, really good.
Marcia sighed with pleasure. It felt good to her as well, but for a very different reason. She reached out, undid Michael’s cloth cord, took hold of the lapels of his bathrobe, and pulled it open, revealing to her eyes, once again, her pretty, feminine, naked body.
She smiled in pride at the sight. She really did have a very nice body. Her breasts were so firm and round, her nipples poked up so prettily, her abdomen was really quite taut (all that floor crunching had really paid off), and between her lily white thighs was such a pretty pussy. She liked how you could see the lips peeking out from beneath the carefully trimmed coif. Why she did not have a boyfriend she did not know. Of course, no guy had previously seen her sitting naked on the couch before. She hadn’t really tried attracting a guy by doing that.
As she felt Michael begin to slowly stroke his cock, she reached out to grasp, to hold, to feel, to fondle, her breasts. They not only looked awfully good, they felt really very, very wonderful as well: firm, yet so soft. She had, of course, felt them before, many a time, but it was really quite different now, to be feeling them through the body, the hands, of a masculine, strong male, while she feels his cock, his balls, his loins responding to the feminine touch of a girl’s fingers and hand stroking up and down the shaft. It was all really very, very strange, but still felt really very, very good. She slid up even closer, tighter, against him, against her body.
She turned to more directly face her body, and let go of her right breast to bring her left hand down to between her thighs, to bring her fingers to where they really wanted to go, to where a boy’s fingers would want to go, to her soft, moist, slick pussy lips.
And, as soon as she touched herself there she felt that she was indeed moist with lust, the moisture she had felt many, many times before. She sighed deeply with pleasure, not entirely sure if it was the pleasure at feeling with her fingers how aroused her body was, or feeling in herself how aroused his body was. She slid a finger in between her moist, swollen lips, to slip it up and down her slippery slit.
Michael gasped at Marcia’s sensual caress of her pussy lips. He had not appreciated how lovely the loving touch of a man could feel on a girl’s lips. He knew what he wanted to do, and he did not hesitate. He leaned down into his lap and wrapped his lips around the head of his swollen cock.
It was a dream finally coming true: the dream of trying to get his own lips wrapped around his own dick, to be able to provide for himself that blow job that would so wonderfully cap off an evening of masturbation, the dream of providing himself the most sensational stimulation that he could experience.
If it was the cock of anyone else it would probably, perhaps most certainly, feel terribly awkward, if not repulsive. But, being his own, it only just felt amazing, astounding, and most certainly quite right.
It was Marcia’s turn to gasp with profound pleasure. As she felt the lips, her lips, wrap around Michael’s cock she realized how much a boy would, must, enjoy this so very personal pleasure that a girl could provide. It did feel awfully, awfully nice to have feminine lips tightly clenching your cock, her little tongue licking and lapping away at you like an affectionate kitty, her pretty face buried deep into your crotch. It would in fact be even better if she was looking up at him with her pretty green eyes. She would have to remember this when she got her own body back, and sucked off her first boy, her first true boyfriend, giving him the oral love that she now realized so well that he would find so thoroughly, intensely phenomenal. She would look lovingly up into Michael’s eyes as she absorbed his dick into her mouth. She threw her head back and let herself bask in the pleasure of her first blow job, performed by someone who clearly knew, first hand, how to make this cock feel so extremely good.
Michael felt Marcia stop in her fingering of his slit as she became engrossed in the pleasure of his cock. He made a note to himself to remember to keep working on her, on the girl, as she worked on him, the boy. He knew that he would find it encouraging, motivating, to feel him finger her further as she further licked, sucked, and lapped his cock.
But, Marcia did not stay negligent for long. After all, she was in fact a girl and she would not remain self-absorbed for too long. She slid her fingers down her slit, quickly finding the entrance to her hole, and gently, but firmly, screwed a finger up inside as she deftly brought her thumb to her clit, pressing against it in a tight, circular motion as her finger moved in and out of her wet, slick, clenching hole.
“Oh man,” gasped Michael, as he felt Marcia work her cunt and clit. If there was one thing a girl knew what to do, it was how to finger and diddle a girl. He felt quite lucky, even honored, to be the recipient of such deft fingering. He worked even harder on his cock, firmly squeezing and stroking his swollen stiff shaft as his tongue continued to massage his swollen throbbing bulb.
It was perhaps self-evident but Marcia was also becoming more familiar with the signs and signals of Michael’s body, and she could tell that it was about to explode into an orgasm. She wasn’t too sure Michael would want to take his own cum into her mouth. She wondered if he had ever tasted his own cum. She knew from firsthand experience now that he couldn’t blow himself, but he could have tried, as she had done, and taken it on his face. Well, it’s probably best not to surprise him. She would certainly prefer that the boy warn her, if she was the one with her face in his lap and, as she thought about it, her face was indeed in his lap. “Wait,” she warned.
Michael knew instantly what she meant. He also felt he could perhaps sense the impending orgasm as well through a throb and twitch of his cock. He wondered though if perhaps he might actually take his cum in his mouth. He had tasted it in the past. Doesn’t every masculine male do that at least once in his life? He sure hoped so. He’d hate to be the only one to have tried that. But, he had never let it explode fully into his mouth, not even those times when he had been trying to wrap his lips around it. And, besides, he sure as heck didn’t know how Marcia would feel about it. After all, it was really her mouth. It would seem rather presumptive of him, if not downright disrespectful, to take a load of his cum into her mouth right in front of her. He pulled her lips away.
Marcia was breathing heavily. She watched her face move reluctantly away from Michael’s cock, spittle dripping down her chin and a string of spit momentarily extending from the shiny purple bulb to her soft full lips, then breaking and falling against the towering shaft. She used the cloth belt of her robe to dab the spittle off his, or her, chin.
Michael smiled appreciatively, but also self-consciously. After all, he had just been sucking off a cock. He looked away from his face as Marcia cleaned him up.
“Michael,” she whispered.
“Yes?” he replied, looking up at her with her pretty round green eyes.
“I think I would like to do it.” It was a very big decision, obviously so. And, perhaps a rather impulsive one. After all, she didn’t even hardly know the guy, although in one regard she knew him very, very well. But, who better to take your virginity than yourself? And, besides, she knew that if she didn’t do this she would often regret it, wondering what it would have been like, to actually have sex with herself.
Michael was a bit more ambivalent. He had many times tried to blow himself, and would have done it if he had been able to do it, but he had never imagined fucking himself. Somehow this did seem a bit more weird, being fucked by himself. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”
Well, that was weird to say. Imagine telling a girl you’re not ready yet. Geeeeez would his friends give him a hard time for that, if he ever got the courage to tell them.
“I’ll go slow,” she reassured him.
Now he was feeling a bit gay, having to be reassured by the girl. “Are you sure? I mean, well, it’s your body, you know.”
She smiled at him and stroked his cheek. “You’re so sweet,” she said. “I’m sure.” There was, though, one concern. Well, there was probably a number of them, but there was one at the forefront of her mind. “But, well, you know, I’m not too sure I will, well, I mean, it’s kind of awkward, you know.”
“Hey, no fooling.”
“I mean, like…..well.” Her voice lowered. “I’ve never done it before….even as a girl, let alone as a guy.”
Michael hadn’t been planning on going all the way with Jim, but he was especially glad now that he hadn’t. Imagine if he had given Marcia’s virginity away to a friend of his. Somehow he didn’t think that she would appreciate that. He admitted as well that “Neither have I, as a guy.”
“It won’t be like a problem or anything, I mean, I don’t have my, you know, my, my….”
“I know,” he replied. He actually wasn’t so sure he knew what she meant, but he figured she meant her hymen. And, thank goodness for that. Boy, she would have been really pissed if he had broke that with the banana. Returning a car with a dented fender was one thing, returning a body with a broken ankle was far worse, but imagine how bad it would be to return a body with a busted hymen. He was now feeling considerably less annoyed with Jim about the fender.
She wondered how he knew, but she didn’t ask. After all, she was the one who had stuck a dildo up his butt. But, none of that was important now. “Let’s go to the bedroom,” she said, and took his hand to lead him down the hall, his erect cock leading, pointing, the way.
When they arrived she took her body by the hand and led it to her bed. “Here, lie down,” she said.
“With my curlers in?” Did he really say that?
“Don’t be silly. You look pretty in them. They make you look all the more feminine.”
Boy, talk about a phony compliment to get a girl in bed to have sex with you. Even he would never say that. But, he was not actually worried about looking pretty. He was just worried that all that work would go for naught. But, now that she mentioned it, he did feel a bit funny having sex in curlers. Still, he was about to have sex for the first time. The more he thought about it, the more he felt committed to it. No boy was ever going to turn down having sex the first time, no matter what the circumstances were, even if it meant doing it from inside a girl’s body. He crawled onto the bed and rolled over onto her back, spreading her legs open and bringing her knees up for his body to mount hers.
Marcia felt that if it had been her she knew she would not have presented herself in such an openly obscene manner, particularly the first time. She would have at least wanted to cuddle a bit, at least some more foreplay. But, it was, after all, her idea to do this, and she was now the man. She should perhaps behave manly and mount this quite obviously receptive girl. She climbed onto the bed and got into position, in between her legs.
She looked into her own nervous eyes, feeling his cock swelling and twitching between his legs.
This was really quite awkward. It wasn’t that she was at all ambivalent. It’s just that she really wasn’t so sure how to do this. Well, she knew how to do it, if asked. The concept wasn’t particularly complicated. It was just that she was not only inexperienced in sex, she was totally inexperienced in being the boy, the guy with the hard-on. The position felt rather clumsy for her, trying to be careful not to actually lie down on her body while at the same time getting close enough to get his cock inserted into her cunnie.
Michael helped her a bit. He reached down to grasp hold of his cock and directed it to her cunt, so she could concentrate on how to get his body into the best position to drive it home. He smiled to himself, feeling oddly like a father to his cock, helping the young man find his home, the place that he had long desired to experience, feeling as a father also somewhat jealous, knowing how much he would enjoy it, the moment his own cock would enter its first cunt, but all he could do was to direct the boy to the entrance. He could not go in with him, nor could he feel the wonderment once he arrived. Once at her pussy though he was not entirely sure exactly where to best put it.
Marcia took over from there, taking the shaft from his hand into hers, sort of. She knew precisely where to lodge the head of Michael’s dick.
Marcia first just circled the head of his penis around and around the inner lips of her cunnie as it slowly worked its way into the entrance, helping to get it good and lubricated, as well as to firmly lock it into place. She knew that her cunnie would enjoy that much more than simply driving it home hard. And, once she felt it was snugly ensconced, she provided a firm, forceful thrust.
Michael gripped the blankets as he felt his cock try to drive up her cunt. He wasn’t sure how he should or would feel. He was proud and impressed at how big and forceful his cock felt, but rather flustered at the thought that it was in fact fucking him. He spread her legs farther and tried to help, thrusting her pelvis out as he felt her thrust his cock in.
His cock didn’t go far, but it did go in a bit. She pulled back, making sure that she did not pull all the way out, and then thrust again. It went in a bit further.
Marcia continued her careful, tentative thrusts, getting in deeper and deeper with each push, each drive, feeling her cunt slowly enwrap and enfold his cock like a soft but very tight, thick fleshy glove. She was impressed with how much pleasure she could provide a guy with her cunnie. She hadn’t imagined that it would in fact feel this good.
Before too long she was all the way in, and it had been well worth the effort. She paused for a moment to simply enjoy the sensation, the wet, soft, fleshy walls gripping, molding, squeezing, and caressing every inch, every centimeter of his stiff, hard dick.
She provided fuller, lengthier thrusts. Michael closed her eyes, moaned with pleasure, and wrapped her legs around him; holding him, and his cock, tightly against her.
She smiled and thrust his pelvis harder, slapping his abdomen against hers, jarring her body as she pounded and plunged his large cock deep inside her. She was going to fuck her self like she had never been fucked before.
“Hmmph, hmmph, hmmph,” Michael groaned in a feminine gasping with each pounding plunge, at times altering with a quiet little whimpering as her cunnie was being so thoroughly serviced, pumped, and plunged. He wrapped her legs around his body even more tightly, holding him close against her, squeezing him like she was a spider, an octopus, a boa constrictor, squeezing him tightly so that he fucked her cunt ever more deeply.
Marcia had never felt anything so pleasurable before. She was in fact feeling a bit jealous, wondering if Michael was enjoying this as much as her, wondering how he could possibly enjoy being fucked as much as she was enjoying fucking her. It was like every nerve of his cock was being stimulated; as if her cunnie was a thousand lips kissing and squeezing every nerve on the shaft and along every curve and edge of the bulb, his dick head scintillated, squeezed, and massaged by her moist, wet softness.
She awkwardly shifted her weight to slip his right hand down in between their very tightly clenched, sweaty bodies, bringing the tips of his fingers to her cunnie; more precisely, to the erect button of her clit. She knew that her body would like that.
“Oh man!” Michael gasped as he felt her touch.
Marcia then resumed her plunging while at the same time pressing his fingers down in a circular motion on her clit. “Michael, Michael,” she gasped as she felt her body becoming weak and groggy with its rising level of arousal, of lust, of excitement.
Like any young man the first time, and certainly one that had been so repeatedly stimulated for so long before they started really doing it, Michael’s body was not going to last long, and by now Marcia was quite aware of the signs. It started like she was about to faint. If felt like his head was being filled with blood as a primal wave of pleasure coursed through his body. “Michael!” she gasped as his cock twitched with its first jettison of jism.
As she felt his cock twitch in her cunt, Michael exploded as well, her body suddenly twitching and jerking in orgasmic spasms. “Marcia,” he said quietly as he pulled her tightly against him.
But Marcia pulled back and out. She was not in fact on birth control. There hadn’t been a particularly good reason for it. Wouldn’t it be weird, or perhaps quite nice, to have actually impregnated yourself? There was a brief moment there when she contemplated actually making her own self pregnant, but she recognized that the pleasurable notion of that thought was confused by her delirious state of mind. And, perhaps even more importantly, she wanted to cum somewhere else.
She used all of Michael’s strength to rip his body from the vise-like grip of her legs, tearing his cock from her cunnie with a loud slush.
Michael groaned in frustration, yet still lost in the blissful spasms of her body’s orgasm.
It was not easy for Marcia, as his eyes were glazing over, his body was awash with its climactic pulsations, his thighs wobbly and uncertain, but he brought his cock up and aimed it directly at her face, releasing gush after gush, wad after wad, onto her rosy dimpled cheeks, perky nose, kissable red lips, and pretty green eyes.
“Hey!” Michael complained, but did not fight it. It was, after all, her body. If she wanted to cum on her own face then who was he to stop her? He did though tightly squeeze her eyes shut, not wanting to suffer the discomfort and indignity of getting any of it in her eyes.
Marcia watched with wonder, pride, and joy as she saw her face quickly become thoroughly doused with the globs, strings, and ropes of his cum. She had wondered what it would look like to see a man cum all over her face. Now she knew, and she liked it. She liked it very much. She might, of course, be affected by the fact that her judgment was clouded by waves of base, fundamental orgasmic spasms of pleasure, followed by states of wondrous bliss, as each thick load squirted from his cock and splatted against her face.
She kneeled wobbly before him, his dick in her hand, aiming at her face, her mind and body awash with pleasure as her face became awash with cum. She felt she actually looked very sexy, even pretty, dashed and littered with globs of white, gooey cum. Yes, she would have to do this in real life someday, as a girl, perhaps Michael’s girl.
When she was done she whispered, “Michael.”
He carefully, cautiously opened one eye, then quickly shut it as it was looking through a misty white cloud. He tried the other, which appeared to be largely free of his slop, and so opened it just partially.
Marcia smiled. She had said his name just to get him to open one of her eyes, which looked even prettier peeking cautiously out from beneath all the gloppy cum. She wondered if she should take a picture. It was, after all, their first date, and their first time.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
The next day they arrived together at Professor’s Minsky’s lab. It had seemed so long ago since they had been there, yet it had been only yesterday.
The professor was surprised to see them arrive together, and even more surprised to see them holding hands.
He was glad though to see them in such a good mood, as he had bad news, really bad news. He had not yet been able to fix the machine. Frankly, even if he did he realized he had no idea what went wrong. How could he possibly reproduce it? Plus, running a large enough charge of electricity through their bodies to reproduce it did seem like a bit of a risk.
He didn’t tell them that though. He just said he needed a bit more time.
“No sweat,” Marcia replied, squeezing Michael’s hand even harder.
“Sure, not a problem,” Michael agreed.
“Yea,” Marcia said, “we have a few more things we want to try out in these bodies. They’re pretty neat, you know.”
Michael added, “Yea, well, I definitely got the best of the deal.”
“That’s so sweet, Michael,” Marcia replied, leaning his head down onto her shoulder.
Michael realized that he would have to tell her how to be a bit more manly. She should give the girl a squeeze, not rest her head on her shoulder. But, there was plenty of time now for that. They cheerfully left the lab, holding hands.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I hope you liked it! I enjoyed writing this one very much, and I hope you could tolerate the confusing pronouns, which really did seem to be appropriate, at least to me. If you did get this far, I hope you did enjoy it, and I certainly encourage you to vote. The encouragement and support are probably much more important than you realize.