Gender Swapped Volume One

by Sophie Pert

  It worked.

  I watched his eyes close, watched him lie back and relax. Watched his hands slip behind his head as he moaned out a breathy moan.

  I was doing well, I was making him happy.

  Slowly I started to experiment, letting my hips move slightly back and forth as I continued my up and down motion. I started to focus on keeping the same movements over and over.

  I fell into the rhythm.

  It felt fantastic.

  I could feel his hard cock plunging in and out of me from below and the rhythm of the same movements at the same speeds meant that he kept hitting the same spots inside of me over and over and over again.

  I felt a familiar tremble build inside of me.

  Almost unconsciously my hands found my breasts, playing with the flesh there as I felt his firm cock play inside of me. One hand moved up to my mouth, my fingers slipping inside past my lips to wet themselves on my tongue.

  Then I let that hand slip between my legs as well.

  The wet tips of my fingers found the nub between my legs and flicked at it. They ran lightly over the tip of it in circles making that feeling, that fantastic warm feeling, build even stronger and even faster.

  I heard a chuckle below me.

  His eyes were open now and they were staring up at me, flicking from my face, to my breasts, to the spot between my legs.

  I realized what a lewd scene I must be making.

  His hands slipped out from behind his head and were on me in an instant. The locked onto my hips and held me still.

  I hovered above him, one hand on my breast and one between my legs, not daring to move.

  He didn’t have any such hesitation.

  His movements were fast and strong, holding me in place as he thrust down from below. He didn’t start slow and increase speed, no he started fast, drilling me over and over with the frenzy of a wild animal.

  My hands slipped out from their places and tried desperately to find purchase on something stable. They landed on his chest, pressing into the hard muscle of his pecs. I stared down at them, the slim and delicate fingers pressing into the unrelenting wall of him.

  The thought alone of my delicate female form being taken by him pushed me higher and higher until I felt myself start to bubble over.

  I made a noise, a high trembling whine. It interplayed with the animal grunts he was making as he pushed himself into me again and again and again.

  “You like that baby?” he asked.

  “Oh…” I cried, “Oh god yes!”

  “Yeah baby. Are you close?” he grunted.

  “So close,” I shuddered.

  He yanked me off of him, the hollow emptiness making me cry out once more. A different cry, strangled and cut off.

  “Not yet,” he said, “You don’t get another one before I’ve even had one. Kneel in front of me.”

  Shuddering, I stepped back and fell to my knees at the edge of the bed.

  He sat up, wrapping one hand around the base of his shaft and the other in the hair at the back of my head. He tiled my face up to look at him and slapped his cock against the side of my face.

  “Blow me.”

  It was rude, it was abrupt, and I loved every minute of it.

  I inhaled him, taking him as deep as I could as quickly as I could and as it turns out that meant all the way down to his base. I took his grunt of satisfaction as evidence that I was doing the right thing and then let him out.

  Gasping he popped out of me, a string of saliva connecting my lips to the tip of his cock.

  Then I took him back in again.

  Three of four times I took him all the way and then on the last time I took him halfway deep.

  That last time my hands flew up to grasp his shaft and as I sucked and wrapped my tongue around the head I twisted and pumped my hands on the rest of his slick shaft.

  “Oh fuck,” he mumbled as I felt his hands fly out and grab the edge of the bed.

  I continued, feeling the thick firmness of him pump in and out of my mouth as I bobbed up and down on him.

  His hips bucked involuntarily, little spasms that made him jump and came in time with his ragged breathing.

  From out of the corner of my eye I saw his hands grip the bed hard and then release.

  They flew off with a speed and fury, once grabbing my head and pulling me off while the other wrapped itself around his shaft.

  He lifted himself up off the bed and he pumped at his cock, his hand let go of my hair and flew up to the back of his own head.

  He looked like a god then, hard chiseled body and rippling muscles. He pumped his cock with firm hard squeezes.

  My hands found my breasts, both of them squeezing the firm flesh as he aimed his throbbing cock at me, at my face, at my neck, at my breasts.

  “Oh god baby yes,” I moaned.

  He grunted and complied.

  With a final buck he started to spurt, his throbbing cock spasming as it shot forth load after load.

  It hit my neck first, the heat of his long awaited load splashing my skin and leaving it tingling.

  My mouth flew open as I moaned with the sensation and knowledge of what this meant and it was just in time. The second spasm landed on my lips and tongue.

  I tasted the salty and oddly sweet viscosity, having only a moment to consider it before I was splashed once more.

  It seemed to never end, covering me again and again with the evidence of what I had done, what I had accomplished.

  In the end I was covered, from the bottom of my lips to the tips of my nipples he had covered me with his semen.

  I looked up at him as his eyes met mine. His beautiful pale grey orbs.

  I bit my lip and darted out my tongue to lick his semen into my mouth.

  He smiled a bit at that, then stepped out and past me.

  I turned to watch him cross the room and start rummaging through his clothes. Figuring I should do the same I took stock.

  My torn and ruined shirt was would do nicely to clean myself up. I did my best to wipe up as much of his semen as I could, taking a few chances to pop some tempting looking drops into my mouth.

  When I had managed to finish cleaning myself up I turned once more to see him leaned against his bed looking at me.

  He was fully dressed and looked for all the world like nothing had just happened, while I on the other hand was completely naked and disheveled. It was incredibly obvious what I had just gotten up to.

  It hit me.

  That crazy fortune teller really had granted my wish, one way or another I had managed to lose my virginity on the very first day of school.

  I giggled uncontrollably and sat down on my bed.

  He raised one eyebrow and looked at me, “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing,” I laughed, “Everything.”

  There was a pause as I tried to stifle any further laughter.

  “Something has to be funny,” he said, “Why don’t you get dressed and we can go grab some food and you can tell me all about it? My treat?”

  I smiled, “That sounds nice.”

  Standing and heading over to the drawers where I knew my clothes were I took stock of this familiar and yet entirely unfamiliar situation. Here I was back at the beginning, but I think this time things were going to be very different.

  Stranded with a Stranger: The Husband Explores The Feminine Perspective

  I was having just the absolute worst week. One of those weeks where you are 100% certain that not a single thing could go right, like the universe was working hard to make sure you were the butt of some massive cosmic joke.

  The absolute worst.

  It started with my wife.

  I’m going to start by saying that I was a lucky man and I knew it. I had 12 years of bliss with my wife and I loved every minute of it. We’d started late in life, well I’d started late in life and had only met her when I was 37.

  She on the other hand was a gorgeous 24 year old.

  I know what you’re thi
nking, ‘13 year age difference? She has to be a gold digger!’

  You are absolutely wrong.

  I thought the exact same thing and at first I figured, ‘what the hell? She’s amazing and sexy so I might as well enjoy it while I can. After all it’s not like I’m successful enough for her to get anything. She’ll catch on eventually and meanwhile I’ll have fun while I can.

  How wrong I was.

  Turns out she was the rich one. Her parents had set her up with a trust fund that had her settled for life.

  Turns out she actually liked me for me.

  My first mistake was not believing that.

  I mean she was beautiful and witty and smart and I was an old schlub who always looked out of place next to her.

  So I kept trying to make myself worthy of her. I worked so hard and it was all for nothing.

  When we had gotten married she begged me to quit my job, she told me she saw how much it pained me to go into work and how much she just wanted me to be with her. She said she had more than enough to pay for anything we wanted our whole lives, that there was no reason for me to work.

  But I was all tied up in some macho need to be the provider that I didn’t listen. Instead I kept my soul sucking job and kept at it day in and day out as it ground me down.

  It didn’t help that I wasn’t exactly amazing on the sex front. Sex had never been a big thing for me. Until I met her I’d never really had a steady girlfriend and even though I’d had a few sexual encounters they hadn’t been anything to write home about. I guess I just never understood why everyone made such a big deal about sex.

  When we started dating I did my due diligence in the bedroom, which I know is just about the worst way to describe sex, but nothing more. Once I put on a few years time took care of my sex drive and it waned away. Not feeling the need I didn’t really ever feel the urge to initiate. Sex between the two of us just kind of faded away.

  Thinking back I should have realized what would have happened.

  Gorgeous rich woman all alone in her house and bored while her husband is at work.

  It's so obvious.

  I decided to surprise her by coming home early, had booked the afternoon off from work and walked in the door with flowers and a bottle of wine.

  I heard them in the bedroom upstairs.

  I don’t know why I went up, I knew what was happening but it was like I had to fulfill some sort of sadistic need. I had to see it with my own eyes.

  I crept up the stairs, flowers and wine still in my hands. Softly I made my way down the hall and to the bedroom door. I ever so slowly edged it open and looked inside.

  They were in our bed. The bed I slept in. Our bed.

  Her back was to me and she was on top of him, her hands were in her hair and she was moaning, loudly. His hands were on her hips, holding her lightly and letting her take control.

  She was riding him, bouncing up and down as her long auburn hair cascaded across her back.

  I could see him under her, glimpses of his body. He was fit and firm and masculine. Far more of a man than I had ever been.

  She was making noises I had never heard from her before.

  I watched her ride him for a minute or so, painfully aware of the hard erection in my pants. I saw the globes of her tight ass, the sheen of sweat across her shoulders and back. I saw her pant with arousal.

  I backed away, leaving the flowers and the wine by the door.

  That was the last time I had seen her. I hadn’t spoken to her or answered any of her calls or texts. I hadn’t even looked at them.

  Instead I took the cowardly route, I checked myself into a motel and hid. I went to work and pretended that nothing had ever happened.

  If I’m honest I know why she did it. I know what I had done, or rather failed to do.

  Now I’m not saying that I was all to blame, she was the one who had cheated and she was the one who had made that choice. But I held my share of the blame as well.

  I had just been so caught up in being someone worthy of her that I had forgotten that being with her meant actually being with her. I couldn’t always be so focused on work and proving myself. I had to be with her, present in her life, physically.

  Truth be told at this point I had probably already forgiven her. Forgiven her enough to try to work through it, if she would. But the fact is that I knew we couldn’t work through it because I knew that I couldn’t give her what she needed. I couldn’t be the partner she needed physically.

  The truth of it was that I just didn’t know what she needed.

  I didn’t know how to make her feel the way that man did. I didn’t know how to make her make those noises. I didn’t know how to please her.

  So it was hopeless.

  So I stayed away and I ignored her messages. I just ran away. Like a coward.

  Because I didn’t have any other choice.

  No one at work knew.

  Work.

  That was where joke number two had decided to play itself out.

  When I got into work the next day there was a company wide email that had been sent out. Turns out our revenue had been down three quarters in a row and this last quarter had been one of the biggest drops the company had seen ever. The email didn’t say it explicitly, but it was heavily implied that layoffs were on the horizon.

  Which prompted my boss to stop by my desk and voice a few choice opinions about taking afternoons off unnecessarily. He made it clear my job was on the line.

  Considering I needed my job to pay bills like my new motel residence I knew I had to prove myself.

  It seemed like no matter what I did though, I just fell a bit short. Projects came in just too late, tiny mistakes got ferreted out and blown out of proportion, minutes of overtime ran into hours of overtime ran into all nighters.

  It made no difference.

  I got into work this morning, having gone ‘home’ to the motel for a quick shave and change, and was almost immediately pulled into a meeting with my boss and his boss.

  They talked about my performance, they told me to shape up, they told me my ass was on the line.

  So what did I do? I did what cowards do. I apologized and begged and told them I was sorry.

  One more chance.

  One more chance to save my job. I worked my ass off all morning and still I know exactly what’s coming at the end of today.

  49 years old.

  I was going to be 49 years old, unemployed and divorced.

  This was a great week.

  I just wanted to get away. I didn’t want to know where it all went wrong, I knew exactly when it all went wrong. I wanted myself to have made different choices.

  But life doesn’t work that way, so instead here I was standing in the plaza outside my office building, staring off into the middle space and wondering what I do next.

  I’m out here for lunch, everyone leaves to get lunch, I couldn’t bring myself to eat anything. All I could do is picture the growing pile of work on my desk and know that I need to get back to it.

  I wanted this to not be my life anymore.

  I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, feel my lungs struggling to find air. I knew I was having a panic attack.

  These aren’t exactly uncommon for me, so I knew just what to do.

  I made my way over to the nearest seat, trying my best not to stumble as I walked to the edge of the fountain and sat on the lip.

  The rushing roar of the water behind me melted into the rushing roar of the blood pounding in my head. It helped to calm me and I felt myself come back down to earth.

  I breathed slowly, in and out, until I felt myself calm again. If I was going to make it through this, if I was going to avoid passing out here in the middle of this plaza, I needed to focus on something else. Something other than what my life was right now.

  I chose the plaque in front of me.

  It was an odd choice, maybe that’s why it stood out to me. If you wanted to have a plaque why would you have it facing the fo
untain. Ordinarily these things are facing outwards so many people can read them, but in order to read this you’d have to be sitting exactly where he is right now.

  It read: Wishing Fountain. Throw your coin in the water and the fountain will make your dreams come true.

  Now I’m not one for fantastical tales, and I’m not one for stretching the truth. I work and live in a world where things happen and there is a cause and a reason for all of it.

  Sometimes, however, those causes cannot be explained or at the very least cannot be easily explained.

  So when I say that something compelled me, I mean it.

  Something compelled me to reach into my pocket, to grab out what was literally my last dime and flick it over my shoulder into the fountain.

  While the coin was in the air the wish just appeared in my mind, as clear as day:

  I want to get away from my life.

  I want to be somewhere completely different from where I am now.

  I want to be someone completely different from who I am now.

  Even if it’s only for a short time.

  I heard the plop of it hitting the water, and the world went dark.

  ---

  I felt heavy.

  Very heavy.

  Like there was something weighing down on me, like there was clay stuck to my skin.

  I tried to pull it off, but my fingers were covered in it too. It would come loose instead my grasping just pulled at it and pushed it around. It was futile.

  I heard a rushing.

  In the distance.

  Something moving quickly and roughly, pushing its way past and around obstacles. Coming right for me. It sounded for all the world like a torrent of water, but more powerful than any I had heard before.

  It hit me.

  It rushed over me.

  Smashing into me and leveling me, but I couldn’t feel it on my skin. Instead it hit the clay and pushed it away and by the time the clay had gone the torrent of water had reduced itself to a trickle.

  There was no light.

  No darkness either.

  There was a medium to this place, like a sharp fluorescent bulb dulled through a sheen of silk. It made it difficult to see, difficult to make out any clear shapes in this between place.