Sunday 29 July 2018

Sunday 8 July 2018

Thursday 5 July 2018

Morning With Reagan (A Short Story)

I hoped that shutting my eyes would help. That somehow I would open them and things would be back to normal. Sadly, I’m wrong. I look down at my body spread out on a bed not my own. Hair covers my thick muscular legs and a large, soft penis rests down against my left thigh. This is not the teenage girl I was yesterday. I want to reach out and touch myself, but these new fingers of mine just feel strange and swollen – so much thicker than my real hands.

I’m so absorbed in my own thoughts, it takes me a moment to register that I’m not alone. A woman in a pale pink satin robe is gazing at me with equal parts lust and uncertainty. I know she’s got nothing on underneath the robe, as she threw it on after I freaked out a few minutes ago. Her name is Reagan, and she’s my best friend’s mother, but this new body of mine is seeing her in a very different way. A part of me wishes I hadn’t pushed her off me when I found myself here in this man’s body. The slurping noise was the first thing I heard, then the sensation coming through my crotch. Looking down and seeing Reagan wide eyed, gazing up at me with those thick lips wrapped around a cock that was somehow mine. As good as it felt, I still freaked out and pulled her off my dick, the suction of her mouth gripping to every ridge of my manhood as I tore her away.