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! ūüėČ


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.




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


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 Рyes, my cock! Рwas 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.