A Gender Swap Mega Bundle 6

by Gregor Daniels

  “Now, I’m going to pretend that you didn’t do anything at all while in my body,” Lana said to him, smirking.

  “Yeah … sure,” his voice cracked. “I mean, I looked. I definitely looked.”

  “But you didn’t touch?”

  “Well …”

  “Never mind. I don’t want to know the details.”

  The doppelgänger scampered off the bed, jogging toward them with her breasts bouncing wildly back and forth.

  “Lana says she’s gonna visit me regularly.”

  Lewis put his hands on his curvy hips. “Oh yeah? Lana, you want to explain why you’re in here with your naked twin?”

  “Professional reasons, Lewis.”

  “Uh-huh. Yeah, okay. That looked professional when I came in just moments ago.”

  Ms. Craft retained a straight face, even though her cheeks reddened some more. “She is a recreation of me, Lewis. She’ll be a worthy opponent for me to practice my parries and thrusts.”

  “Right. Sounds reasonable.”

  “And I can turn this environment into a training ground to test my limits.”

  “I see.”

  “Why did you interrupt me in the first place?”

  Lewis pointed to an invisible watch on his wrist. “Plane to catch, and I can’t drive on the left side of the roads.”

  “Very well.”

  He expected the simulation to end right there. There was no reason to not continue the conversation outside of the computer program. But, the wildest thing happened.

  Lana Craft reached over and pushed her slender fingers through her doppelgänger’s red hair, pulling her closer. Their bodies neared until the tips of the breasts touched, all four pink nipples hardening at once.

  Lewis’s mouth slowly opened as the two girls kissed. It was a pair of naked Lana Crafts, both exactly the same, making out with each other. The one on the left—the real Lana—squeezed her partner’s soft, tender breast, while the other slipped a hand between the opposite’s thighs, pushing her fingers to her sweet little mound.

  The darker-haired one glanced over and winked at him.

  Suddenly, Lewis saw the computer terminal again, and felt the heavy VR goggles being pulled off his head.

  “Enough of the video games, Lewis,” Lana said, tapping him on the shoulder.

  “But—”

  “You have a plane to catch, or did I hear that wrong? You wouldn’t want to miss it.”

  Groaning, Lewis retrieved his bags. He suddenly wasn’t looking forward to heading back to California. The trip would be long and boring, many hours spent sitting inside a cramped tin can with wings. No doubt he’d be picturing what he just saw on the way back, imagining Lana and her doppelgänger getting naughty with each other. He still wasn’t sure if that had happened or not. She made no mention of it. Outside of the virtual reality simulator, it all seemed like a dream.

  “Can I expect you to come with me again, if I call you? There’s still so much to discover in the world. I’d hate to see it alone.”

  Lewis paused at the front door, turning one last time to admire the vast mansion that this woman lived in. He still didn’t know what was behind every door, down every hallway.

  “Maybe, just maybe.”

  ###

  Last Joy Ride

  “How much farther is it?” Zane asked.

  Tucker picked up his phone. “Five hundred and fifty-three miles.”

  “Five hundred and fifty-three goddamn miles.” Zane kicked his feet up onto the dash and pushed the seat back. Outside the passenger window of Tucker’s Dodge Charger was the Great Salt Lake Desert. Supposedly some people considered it a tourist attraction, but Zane scanned the horizon of salt deposits, sighed deeply, and closed his eyes. The rest of the trip to Sacramento would undoubtedly be the same—more barren landscapes, two-lane highways, and blistering heat. And a few small towns along the way to break up the monotony. They’d have to stop in one of them to spend the night. The desert sun was already peeking through the windshield. Zane turned the visor down.

  Tucker slapped him on the knee. “Dude, it’ll be better when we get there. Much better. You’ve never even been to California!”

  Zane opened one eye. Yep, still desert. “Now I know why. We could’ve taken a plane, man. We’d already be there by now.”

  “Shit no. I don’t want to spend that much money. Besides, I need to let the old girl run a little.” He punched the throttle, and the V8 engine roared to life, accelerating them to eighty-five miles-per-hour. Then he let off and the needle fell back down to seventy. The cruise-control light flashed on.

  Zane yawned.

  “Look, you don’t have to come to the wedding. If you wanna get shit-faced at one o’clock in the afternoon, go right ahead. I have to be there, though. Alicia would kill me if I wasn’t. But she’s got some really cute friends who are gonna be her bridesmaids. And you know how girls are at weddings. They see their friend getting married, and then they realize they need to find a guy. ASAP. It’s like … it clicks something on in their brains. It’s like evolution, or … or natural instinct.” He grabbed his phone. “Here. My sister has all her friends on Facebook. You can check them out and get a pregame scoop.”

  Zane took the phone and brought up the app. Tucker’s older sister was cute as hell. A long time ago in a bedroom far away Alicia had been his first crush. But Zane had only been a tween then with pimples all over his face. He still remembered going over to Tucker’s house and sneaking a peek whenever he could. Alicia had been a beanpole then, but she had filled out over time. There were a few snapshots of her in all sorts of bikinis down in the Bahamas, short skirts at the Grand Canyon, and a few dressing room photos of her trying on the wedding dress and telling everyone, “I can’t believe the day has finally come!!! I’m so nervous!”

  “So?” Tucker asked. “Got any in your sights?”

  Zane flipped to her friends’ photos. Sarah was a chubby blonde, but she had some big tits. Zane was willing to bet money that they were probably saggy already. Fuck material? Sure. Girlfriend material? No chance in hell. Tanya was skinnier, but too skinny. She couldn’t have been more than ninety pounds, and her curves were nonexistent. She looked like a feminine boy in some of the photos. Zane recalled his bar-hopping motto: No ass, no chance. When he fucked a girl, he wanted something soft and squishy to grab. Not bony. Erin was better. She had the full hips, a respectable bust—not too big or small—and a fantastic smile. Her lips would look better around Zane’s cock, no doubt. He might have to have Tucker introduce them. With Alicia getting married, Erin’s hormones would be running wild. It was a scientific fact.

  Tucker looked over at him, hanging one arm on the wheel. “See any fish you might keep, or would ya throw them all back?”

  Zane shrugged. “Maybe one or two. There’s options. I like having options.”

  “You mean backup chicks,” Tucker said, grinning. “Rumor is that Tanya is a lesbian, so she probably won’t go out with anyone that has a dick. Sarah just got out of a bad relationship. She’s coming down to the wedding to get cheered up. And I don’t believe Erin has a boyfriend. She’s religious.”

  Zane glanced at his friend. “Really?”

  “Yeah. You know what that means.”

  They bumped fists and said together, “Untapped Catholic pussy!”

  Soon the Great Salt Lake Desert was in the rear-view mirror. A few more minutes and they’d be entering Nevada. THE SILVER STATE the signs would say. Not the good part of the state, though. Las Vegas was down south. Tucker and Zane had considered a detour through there on their way back, but they’d have to wait and see how long they stayed in California. Both of them had to be back to work on Monday, and Alicia’s wedding was going to take all day Saturday. There was already a limited window to party, and the return trip would have to be made without a halfway stopping point.

  A little ways into Nevada, Tucker’s phone lost mobile connection, and Zane couldn’t flip through the social media phot
os anymore. The internet app closed and filled up the window with an error message. LOW SIGNAL. UNABLE TO CONNECT.

  He lay it on the center console. “Well, so much for that. Got anything interesting coming up on the interstate?”

  “Unless you have a hard-on for endless desert, then nope,” Tucker joked. “Dirt and dirt and more dirt. And maybe some tumbleweeds if that’s your thing. I bet we’ll see plenty of those on the way to California. Or we can start singing about ninety-nine bottles on the—”

  “Jesus Christ, don’t fucking start. My dad used to sing that all the time when I was little. I think it gave me a brain aneurysm.”

  Tucker laughed.

  Zane glanced at the lower dash. Just below the climate control knobs, someone had gutted out the plastic and inserted something that looked like a bulky black radio. It didn’t match the rest of the interior. The LED green letters said OFF. There were several knobs and dials.

  He pointed. “What the hell is that thing?”

  Tucker saw. “Oh, that’s a CB radio. Whoever owned the car last installed it. Put in the antenna and everything. Said he constantly made trips back and forth across the desert and liked talking to random people. I’ve never even touched the thing.”

  “Does it still work?”

  Tucker shrugged. “Hell if I know. It should be plugged in. I haven’t messed with it since buying the car.”

  Zane grabbed the microphone and twisted the VOL knob. A brief crack of static came through the radio speakers. Then the LED display showed 01. He turned the volume about halfway up, grabbed the microphone, and spoke.

  “Hey, are there any other losers on this highway?”

  “No, you have to press and hold the button first,” Tucker said, showing him.

  Zane saw, and then repeated. “Hey, any losers driving through Nevada right now?”

  Nothing.

  “You won’t get many people. Truckers mostly,” Tucker explained. “And they have to be listening in on the same channel as you’re broadcasting. Keep trying different channels and see if you get someone.”

  Zane did. No one replied, except for one angry man on channel 04 who said, “Get off this goddamn fucking channel.”

  “Okay. Keep your dick in your pants,” Zane said before moving on.

  Through the first twenty channels, two of them were blaring country music, three were complete static, and one had a woman reading off a map and reciting the nearest landmarks and tourist attractions. Zane was about to ask her how many clothes she had on, but then a kid spoke up in the background asking for the nearest bathroom. He sounded six. A man—probably his father—said it was twelve miles up the road, but they could stop if it was urgent. Apparently they weren’t aware that the mic was hung open.

  Zane was beginning to think this CB stuff wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be. On channel 21, he began with the usual, “Hey, any losers out there on this frequency?”

  A woman responded. “Who’s asking?”

  Zane smiled. It was all or nothing. “Just a guy with a big dick.”

  Tucker was laughing so hard that he about swerved off the road.

  The voice replied, “A big dick, huh? How many inches you keeping in your pants?”

  Zane exaggerated. “A full eight. I ain’t lying, honey. That’s the damn truth. I’m not one to judge, but you sound like a girl that could really take a dick. You wanna take my dick?”

  “If you’re around Wendover, sure. I’ll take a dick as long as you got some money on you.”

  “Fuck,” Tucker said. “We just passed through there thirty minutes ago.”

  “Dude, we have to turn around,” Zane said, making sure to keep his finger off the button. “You heard her! She wants to take my dick.”

  Tucker shook his head. “Not happening. I’m not turning around. Besides, she’s a prostitute. You wanna waste money on some prostitute when you might actually get laid for free in Sacramento?”

  Well, there was no guarantee of that, Zane knew. Weddings might’ve made a girl’s juices flow, but it wasn’t for sure that the drawbridge would be down to allow his dick army easy passage. He had brought some cash along for bars just in case, and girls out here were probably real easy. Less-than-a-Franklin easy. But Tucker was most likely right. Cheap pussy wasn’t good pussy. Plus, the only thing flashing into his head when he thought about that woman’s voice was a chain-smoking trailer trash whore with two infants sucking on her milk-filled tits.

  Still, there was no reason why he couldn’t play around a little. He pressed the button. “We ain’t heading that way, miss. No dick for you tonight. At least not from me.”

  “Not even for anal?”

  Fuck, Zane thought. No, she’s probably not clean. “Not even the ass. And hey, I love taking a girl’s ass. And I love girls that let guys fuck them in the ass. You like letting dudes pound your back door?”

  “Depends. If the guys don’t mind a mudslide.”

  Tucker cringed. “No! Fucking hell, change that goddamn channel, man!”

  Zane retched. “Holy shit. No more of that!” He turned the volume down.

  “Fuck, now the image isn’t going away. She said mudslide, right? That’s what she said? Meaning—”

  “Oh you know damn well what she meant. It could only mean one thing.”

  “Ah!”

  Up ahead, the road converged into one lane both directions because of construction. They were widening the shoulder or something, Zane didn’t catch it. In any case, Tucker had to back down to fifty-five miles-per-hour. The roadside electronic signs said there was construction for the next twenty miles.

  Tucker slumped into the driver’s seat. “God. Get someone else on that radio. And please not the mudslide lady. Anyone but the mudslide lady. I’m gonna have nightmares after that.”

  Zane flipped up through the channels, finding no one on the next five in a row. On channel 26, a man responded.

  “Losers, huh? Did you just call me a loser?”

  Zane clicked the button. “Depends. We’re all losers if we’re driving on this boring fucking highway. There’s absolutely nothing in any direction.”

  “You talking about the interstate, boy?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Well I’m on it, too. Ain’t much to see around these parts. I usually like to have myself a pretty lady in the passenger seat when I’m passing through … so I can reach up under that short skirt she’s wearing and finger her. I’m real good at that. And her pussy’s drooling all over my seat. Maybe she’ll suck my dick or come sit in my lap. I love it when they do that. Them ladies love the big rigs. Vibrations and all. Gets ‘em going real quick, and then they just can’t resist taking out Rodney’s cock.”

  Zane shot Tucker a look of this guy’s fucking awesome.

  “And where’s your lady tonight?” Zane asked.

  “Gone.” A long pause. “Shot her in the head at point blank. Rodney got tired of her. Her pussy was still nice and tight even after she was dead.”

  “Holy shit,” Tucker said, staring at Zane. “You think he’s making that up? Of course he has to be. No fucking way that’s the truth.”

  Zane spoke into the microphone. “What was her name, trucker dude?”

  “Pamela.”

  Zane grabbed Tucker’s phone again and opened up an internet browser. Luckily there was a signal now, albeit it took ages for one page to load up. He went to Google and typed in: PAMELA DEAD NEVADA INTERSTATE. The second result was a news article from last week, describing a woman who had been found dead on the side of the road with a shotgun blast to the temple. Her name was Pamela. The attached picture showed policemen and crime scene investigators inspecting the blood-stained patch of asphalt. There were no leads.

  He showed the news article to Tucker.

  Tucker’s mouth was agape. “You think—”

  “What?” Zane laughed. “No fucking way. He’s just making it up to scare us. Hell, if I was traveling by semi down some boring highway I’d be havin
g fun with people like us, too. Just scaring people shitless for the hell of it, you know. That’d be funny as hell. He probably thinks we shit our pants.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

  Zane grabbed the microphone again. “We found some news piece about Pamela. Looks like you got her real good. Why did you kill her?”

  “I told you,” the voice said, almost remorseful. “Rodney got tired of her. Rodney gets tired of women easily. And then I have to find a new one. I don’t mean to kill her. But I have to.”

  “Why don’t you turn yourself in? You murdered her, right? Just goto the police.”

  “Can’t do that. Murderin’ is a serious crime. And I loved Pamela. She was real pretty … even after the accident. I love girls like her. Real sexy.”

  “What’s your type?”

  “Well … they gotta have real long legs, and they gotta be wearing shorts or skirts. You know, gotta show them legs off, or else what’s the point?”

  “I feel you.”

  “And anything she’s wearing has’ta be tight as hell. Gotta show off that ass. A nice big ass, but not too big. Rodney wants to put his hands on it and bend her over. And if she’s wearing a skirt, panties are out of the question. I wanna bend her over real sudden and fuck her. And Rodney wants to feel her tight little waist and those big tits trying to pop out of her top. And the blonde hair. She’s gotta have golden blonde hair. That’s all Rodney gets hard for these days. A cute blondie in a short skirt that knows how to treat a man.”

  Tucker was trying not to laugh.

  “Dude, I love blonde chicks too,” Zane agreed. “And when the carpet matches the drapes, oh man. I’m down with that, trucker dude. Blonde is the way to go. And she better be backing that ass up to my dick whenever I snap my fingers. Like you said, a girl that knows how to treat a man. That’s all we need.”

  “You got yourself a girlfriend, boy? Sounds like you do.”

  “Nope. Not at the moment.”

  “Is she in the car with you? Put her on. I wanna hear that sweet voice.”