Fiction – Morning glory

Whilst this piece is entirely fictional, the starting point was an incredibly vivid dream that I had a while ago about suddenly waking up as a man. I’m not sure whether I’ve done the sensations justice, but it seemed like a good exercise in trying to truly imagine myself in the skin of someone else, as it were. I’m sure any male readers out there can let me know how I did! 😉

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I can distinctly remember the date – 14th April. It was the first Saturday morning in about 3 months that I had not had to get up for work. As is of course typical in these cases, my body clock was now so hard wired to a 6.30 start that no amount of squeezing my eyes tightly shut against the filtering early morning light could send me back to sleep.

I sighed and shifted in my bed, hugging the duvet around me, willing it to lull me back into slumber. While I knew it was probably in vain, I wasn’t going to let the opportunity to spend a lazy morning pass me by. Absentmindedly, I scratched my balls.

Wait.

What?

Balls?

My hand froze. Very, very slowly I lowered it back down between my legs. Balls. Plums. Nuts. Testicles.

Bollocks.

It was at this point that I remember screaming very loudly, although to be honest with hindsight I think may have blanked out quite how hysterical I was. All I know is that the sound of my scream freaked me out even more, for instead of my girly squeal, the scream was the low, gruff cry of a man.

When I finally managed to stop my vocal cords from making any more noise, I listened to my heart palpitations instead. As I tried to slow my breathing down, I tentatively put my hands between my legs again. Still there. Two ripe, dangly man balls, beautifully firm underneath the soft layer of skin and downy hair. I rolled one of them in my hand like a Chinese stress ball. The sensation was strange, almost like I was two people. I could feel myself caressing the testicle, and deep inside what I could only think of as my “loins” I could feel the hand doing so. I could feel each digit teasing the skin, squeezing and caressing. It felt new and exciting.

As my hand grazed my upper thigh, I started to explore the rest of my new body. Slowly I lowered my hand onto my legs and felt the unfamiliar weave of hair. “So much for waxing appointments”, I muttered to myself. The muscular thighs tensed slightly under my touch. My left hand tentatively jumped to my chest. Gone were the swelling breasts. Gone was the need for a bra. Where my boobs had been, I now found two flat nipples and a mass of short, curly hairs. I laughed as I silently thanked the fact that I slept naked and tried not to imagine a male torso in a nightdress.

For a while, I simply enjoyed the unfamiliar sensation of running my short nails through the hair on my chest, before heading further South towards my belly. I swirled my fingers around the fluffy bellybutton, and traced the “V” between my hips. I grinned like a lunatic to discover I had abs. Whoever this body belonged to worked out. I was HOT…or at least the body I was inhabiting was! I giggled as I flexed my biceps and felt the breadth of my shoulders. I sniffed the musky scent of my armpit and practiced repeatedly swallowing with my hand on my Adam’s apple.

Of course, I can’t deny that all this time I had been delaying the inevitable. In some ways I was surprised at my reaction – in drunken conversations with friends about what we would do if we were the opposite sex for the day the fascination had always been what it would feel like to have a cock. Now that it had happened, I found I was just as intrigued by all the other elements of the body that felt so unfamiliar from within, from the stubble on my chin, to the wiggle of my pecs.

Yet the act of merely thinking about the penis appeared to have woken it up. At first, I may have confused the tingling sensation in my lower abdomen with hunger. Before long, however, I was sure it was a rush of blood I was feeling. As a woman, the familiar throbbing that accompanies the rush of blood to the genitals is firmly between the legs; this was similar in sensation, yet located slightly above what I was used to – and quite obviously on the outside of the body. There was no familiar wetness – no pussy, therefore no juices – but instead a delicious steady throbbing and tightening of my groin.

I could put it off no longer. My hand shook as I reached down and grabbed my growing cock. Still only semi-erect, I grasped the shaft and just held both it and my breath, while I felt it grow in my hand. The skin on the outside was soft and loose, while underneath the shaft hardened and pulsed.

I had of course held cocks many times before. This, however, was different. Each movement from my hand sent tingles through my groin and up and down my spine. With increasing confidence, I started the familiar up and down pumping wrist action. The skin moving underneath my hand seemed to simultaneously stroke the shaft, providing double the pleasure. As the foreskin moved up and over the frenulum and the glans, I shuddered and let out a deep moan. God, it felt good.

Somewhere in my still apparently female brain I felt the urge to insert a finger into the memory of my cunt, yet shoving my free hand between my legs only gave me the warmth of my scrotum. As my heart raced faster, the thumb of the hand around the shaft of my cock teased the glans, where I could feel a dribble of pre-cum. I luxuriated in rolling my thumb to lubricate the head, teasing the slit and marvelling at the soft-yet-hardness of it all.

My cock – yes, my cock! – was proud and hard between my legs. I had taken full ownership and was no longer hesitant in my movements. All my energy and power seemed to be focused on my groin as I revelled in my new-found manhood. Faster and faster I stroked, giving in to the delicious sensation of my gathering orgasm.

I came round slowly, my hand still reaching its crescendo, as my partner ejaculated over my hand and onto the sheets of our bed.  I just lay spooned up behind him, and smiled.

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Fiction – Construction

(As an aside, this one should probably also be known as The One In Which I Think I Probably Watch Too Much Porn, as it involves frankly slightly ridiculous stereotypes of big burly men in hard hats, and normally features a 70s-style soundtrack in my head when I play the scenario through.)

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“Eurgh. Thursday.” thought Jo, as her eyes started to focus on the room around her, and her ears protested at the hard-core dance music that appeared to be emanating from her clock radio. “Too early. Always too fucking early.”

She rolled out of bed and padded to the bathroom. Surveying her reflection in the mirror, she mentally made a note to make more effort to take her make-up off before going to bed. Just like she did every other morning. Squinting in the bright sunlight, she rummaged around in the bathroom cabinet for painkillers, and quickly downed them with icy water from the tap.

The shower was the one thing that worked in her pokey flat, and she stripped off and climbed into it,  luxuriating in the way the hard driving rivulets of water stung her body into a state that might actually pass as alertness. As she absentmindedly soaped herself with lemon-scented shower gel, she played back the events of the night before. There had been wine. Yes, lots of wine. Eurgh. Then shots with that group of guys. Double eurgh. No wonder her head was throbbing.

She turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel from the hook on the back of the door. It would have to be instant coffee again – she really should get round to getting a new machine. Mornings like this were made for proper coffee; strong, dark and invigorating. The list of things that were already going wrong was getting longer, and it wasn’t even 7.30 yet.

Jo threw a slice of stale bread in the toaster and went to grab some clothes. She rummaged in her wardrobe and found the first top that looked like it might be vaguely presentable, and teamed it with a flared navy skirt. Simple, yet at least fairly smart for the office. Glancing at the overflowing laundry basket next to her wardrobe, she quickly decided against underwear. It was forecast to be a reasonably warm day anyway, and maybe some fresh air would do her some good – whatever it was blowing.

A slice of toast and some of her favourite songs on the radio helped lift her mood and she felt a little more human. Lashings of mascara and a slick of lipgloss ensured she also looked it. Jo grabbed her keys and her bag and headed out of the door to the bus stop. For once she wasn’t even going to be late!

It seemed everyone was out of town for the summer, and thankfully the bus had plenty of seats for a change. She put her bag down and collapsed onto the nearest one. The other passengers on the bus were the usual mix of elderly and commuters – no school kids at this time of year, thank God – the usual combination of strangers and familiar commuting faces. There was the woman who wore that awful pink lipstick that really didn’t suit her skin tone, and behind her the man that she occasionally bumped into at the corner shop being bullied into buying icecreams for his kids.

She didn’t recognise the man sat facing the back of the bus diagonally to her. He was maybe in his early 60s, Jo thought, with a shock of white hair and a dress-sense that seemed more up-to-date than his age implied. He was still handsome, and Jo could tell he’d obviously been a real heart-breaker in his youth. Or maybe he still was?

Her mental image made her unconsciously smile, and she blushed as she realised he was looking straight at her with a quizzical look in his eyes. She’d obviously made her interest in him too clear. Jo shifted uncomfortably in her seat and crossed, then re-crossed her legs. The movement reminded her of the fact she was not wearing underwear, and created a slight stickiness at the very top of her inner thigh. Older foxy man was now blatantly checking out her legs! Dirty old man!

Jo glanced out of the window and realised she was only two stops away from the office, when at the same time a wicked thought ran through her mind. Surreptitiously she tried to see if she could guess where her opposite number would be getting off. Dressed like that she supposed the likelihood was pretty big that he would be going further into the centre of town. She figured she was therefore pretty safe in what she wanted to do.

One more stop to go. She had to time it right or she would lose her nerve completely. Her stomach churned and she felt inwardly giddy. She’d never done anything like this. Well, not when sober anyway…

As the bus rounded the corner that meant she had a couple of hundred yards to her stop, Jo casually dropped her hands onto her lap. Gathering the soft fabric of her skirt in her fingers, she glanced around to ensure that the man opposite was the only person who would be able to see what she was doing. He was staring idly out of the window, and she wondered if he would actually even notice.

With one sure, slow movement she slid the fabric of her skirt up her thighs and quickly uncrossed her legs, exposing her cunt. She held her breath and blushed  a deep red as the man opposite turned his head because of the movement, and caught what must have been a full view of her glistening pussy.

The look of surprise and delight on his face would stay with Jo long after she got off the bus. That would give him something to tell his grandchildren, she thought…

___

The episode on the bus had made her giddy with excitement, and she practically skipped into the office. All morning she had to try to contain the fits of giggles that seemed to want to explode out of her at the most inopportune moments. Thankfully the office was suffering from the same empty August syndrome as the bus, and she spent most of the morning uninterrupted. Even though the whole thing had only lasted seconds, the arousal that had resulted from her little flash on the bus was acute, and she used quiet periods at her desk and trips to the bathroom to dip her fingers up her skirt into her dripping juices. It only made her hornier.

When it was time for her lunch break, Jo was glad to leave the office – she felt sure it was blindingly obvious to the few colleagues that were left what the only thing on her mind was that day. At one point she was convinced she was so flushed that the office maintenance guy was going to ask her if she had a fever.

She dashed out to the nearest sandwich bar and walked over the small green square that she liked to frequent in the summer, where she sat down on the grass and wolfed down her sandwich with a voracious appetite.

However, no amount of chicken salad on wholemeal could do anything to appease the hunger in her cunt. It was getting beyond a joke. Everywhere she looked she could see hot young office workers of both sexes flirting in the sun. She started to wonder if she was going to have to seduce Ben the IT geek in the stationery cupboard on her return to the office, things were getting that desperate. And all because of some stranger who was probably old enough to be her grandfather!

On her way back to the office, Jo realised that there finally seemed to be movement at the derelict office block across the road. She could see various men in hard hats pointing at sheaves of paper. About time too, the place was a complete eyesore, thought Jo.

She was staring absent-mindedly at the building, when she realised that one of the men was walking purposefully towards her, and smiling in recognition. Jo racked her brains as to where she might know him from, when finally it dawned on her that he had been one of the group that she and her friend had been drinking with in the nightclub the previous evening. She groaned inwardly as she wondered whether she had made a fool of herself, but reading the expression on his face decided against it.

He was maybe just under 6 foot, with floppy blond hair and deep brown eyes that twinkled out from under his hard hat. She could tell from the tan on his face and forearms that he spent a lot of time outside. Her eyes were drawn to the bulge of his biceps under his t-shirt. She had no control over the throbbing that instantly started up between her legs.

“Hi”, the man said as he got close, “it’s Jo, isn’t it? We met last night, at Fifth Avenue? I’m Greg”. As Jo opened her mouth to respond, he leaned in and grinned conspiratorially “I loved the fact you weren’t wearing any underwear”. “Fuck”, thought Jo, as she blushed bright red, then hesitated for a split second, before laughing and whispering back “I’m not wearing any now either”.

Had she really just said that? What was wrong with her? First flashing at respectable older gentlemen, and now this? She had to concede that Greg was a damn sight hotter than Ben the IT geek though…

She looked at the bemused expression on Greg’s face as he processed this piece of information. Jo guessed he hadn’t quite expected that reaction. She weighed up her next move. In for a penny, and all that… “want me to show you?” she breathed.

Greg’s grin grew wider. “Follow me”, he said, and led her round the back of the building. As she walked behind him, Jo had the chance to survey the way his jeans cupped his buttocks as he walked. With every step Jo made up her mind further that she desperately needed to get her hands on that body.

The back of the building contained a small courtyard, with sorry-looking raised beds that must once have contained flowers. Greg gestured to them; “hop up there” he beckoned, throwing his hard hat to the ground. She did as she was told, hoiking her skirt up around her hips at the same time, and spreading her legs. “I told you I wasn’t wearing any underwear” she laughed.

Greg grabbed her right thigh with his left hand while the other desperately scratched at the buckle of his belt. With a swift movement, he unbuttoned the fly of his jeans and pulled out his already erect cock. Jo’s pussy spasmed at the sight, and she grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him towards her. With a slow, soft movement, she pushed her tongue into his mouth as he thrust his cock into her throbbing pussy with the same slow motion. Jo gasped as her aching cunt finally got its fill.

Greg’s movements were slow and steady at first, then grew wilder and less hesitant as  he responded to Jo’s moans. She wrapped her thighs tightly around his hips and drew his full length into her, willing each thrust deeper and harder.  Greg did not last long – his orgasm came quick and hard, and they clung together, panting for a few seconds. Finally he looked at her. “Sorry”, he mumbled, aware that his own orgasm had not waited for Jo’s. “That’s ok”, she smiled, shifting her buttocks on the uncomfortable wooden logs. She glanced up briefly to where she knew another man in a hard hat had been watching. “We can always try again later…”

Initiation, Part 2

I know, I know…so much for getting this one finished quickly…sorry part 2 has taken so long, dreaded Real Life and all that…Anyone that missed part one? 

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I blushed and slowly started unbuttoning my blouse to reveal the lace of my bra and the swell of my breasts. “Don’t stop”, she said, as I hesitated, and I meekly undid the rest of the buttons. “You have great tits”, she said admiringly, “I’d love to play with them”.  The reply almost sounded as if it was from someone else’s mouth; “Why don’t you?”. To say my stomach was doing somersaults really didn’t do it justice – I don’t think I’d ever felt the same mix of nervousness and arousal.

Sarah knelt on the floor in front of me and slowly cupped my left breast. A shiver went through me as she moved her thumb in slow circling movements over the delicate fabric of my bra. Her thumb found my nipple and her forefinger moved to meet it, squeezing my nipple between her digits. She looked at me questioningly. I bit my lip, silently signalling her to continue.

She slid down the fabric of my cup and toyed with the hard bud underneath, and I gasped as her skin met mine. It felt different to a man’s touch – softer, somehow – yet the effect was the same. As my breathing grew heavier, her touch grew more forceful. Suddenly, without waiting for an invitation, she leant over and took my nipple in her mouth, gently biting it with her teeth. Her tongue swirled around my nipple, and her hand exposed my right breast. Her mouth seemed to plant butterfly kisses all over my breasts , simultaneously sucking and licking. By this point my arousal was no longer hesitant- I was completely lost in the sensation. That it was a woman giving me this pleasure simply no longer seemed relevant.

I squirmed slightly as I felt a familiar and welcome moisture seeping into the sheer fabric of my knickers. As though sensing my thoughts, Sarah stopped with her attention on my exposed breasts, and moved her hands to my knees. She looked me deep in the eyes as she slowly moved my skirt up my legs towards my hips. She paused briefly before starting to  gently stroke the inside of my thigh. An involuntary cry escaped me as I willed her higher. She took her time, however, teasing me, stroking me, only causing the moistness between my legs to grow, until I wriggled so much that my skirt made its way up over my hips almost by itself. Thankful for the fact I had worn hold-ups that day, I parted my legs almost mechanically, and very gently and deliberately, she pushed my gusset to one side, exposing my wet juicy pussy to her view.

Even I could smell the warm, musky scent of my cunt – I couldn’t begin to imagine what it was doing to her as her face hovered closer. Sarah, however, was calm personified, and thoughtfully stroked my outer lips. I trembled and held my breath as her fingers pressed closer into my pussy, stroking my inner lips and circling my clit. It was like nothing I had ever experienced before – the strange familiarity of her touch, as though it was my own, mingled with the knowledge that it was a stranger’s, was driving me crazy.

When it seemed like I could barely contain my arousal, she leant forward and breathed the smallest of breaths on my swollen clit. The cooling breeze on my hot lips made me shiver involuntarily.

Sarah looked me in the eyes, arched an eyebrow and smirked as she took in my flushed cheeks, erect nipples and dripping cunt. Still wordless, she licked her lips, and bent forward to do the same to mine, running her tongue in a long, slow channel from my opening to my clit, where she lingered, gently swirling it in her mouth.

I couldn’t contain my moans any more now, and as her tongue continued to flick at my clit I grew more and more agitated, willing myself to orgasm with her face between my legs. Still licking with a steady rhythm, Sarah eased two fingers into my soaking pussy, thrusting and licking more skillfully than any man I had ever known, and I shuddered to a release right there on the toilet seat in the partner’s lavatories at work as a senior partner worked her magic.

Still wordless, Sarah waited for my shaking to subside, before moving up from between my legs and kissing me full on the mouth. The mixture of lipstick and my own juices was intoxicating, and from that moment on, I knew I was hooked.