by Sophie Pert
His hands and head dropped, “I’m sorry. I’m just really nervous and I- I never know what to say to a woman as beautiful as you. The truth is I just got out of a long term relationship and my buddy dragged me to this stupid seminar on how to pick up women. I guess when I saw you I got flustered and it just came out wrong.”
My anger was tempered somewhat, “That still doesn’t excuse you following me.”
“I didn’t,” he looked up, “Honestly I live there.”
He pointed towards the building behind me, the one that made up one side of the alley.
“I don’t believe you,” I said, “Prove it.”
“Okay, look I’m reaching for my keys,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. Then he gingerly stepped around me and up to the entrance of the building. He unlocked the door and pushed it open.
I could see inside, the entrance to a nice little ground floor apartment. Framed pictures on the wall and a long hallway that opened up to a room with a couch in it.
“See?” he said.
I smiled a bit, a bit sheepishly. He had been telling the truth and I had acted like a jerk. Not unfairly, I mean you can never be too careful.
Still I felt for this guy, he was just trying his best. He was nervous. I had been there. We had all been there at one point or another.
He looked up at me with his big blue eyes, pleading with me to give him a break, and I felt for him.
I don’t know why I did it, frustration and sympathy and confusion were all bundled up inside of me in equal parts. Truth was it all boiled down to one thing, one persistent little voice sounding off in my head over and again and again.
It was need.
I needed this.
So I grabbed him by the shirt and pushed him into his apartment.
I felt him slam into the wall and kicked the door shut with my foot. Looking up at him I could only think about how amazingly brilliantly deep his eyes looked. He was looking down at me with confusion on his face, like he wasn’t exactly certain what was going to happen next. The look was good on him, cute. I smiled back up at him and leaned in for a kiss.
Once our lips touched his confusion melted away. I felt the subtle shift in his body language as he realized exactly what was happening.
I pressed my body against his, letting my hands release his shirt and flatten out against the hard muscle of his chest. His hands touched my hips and I let my hips sway back and forth.
When he started to kiss me back I felt his hands grip my hips. His body tensed as he pushed his lips against mine. Then he pushed me, backing me up against the wall and sandwiching me between the hard wall and his strong body.
I let my hands find the buttons of his shirt and start undoing them, tugging on the fabric to pull it out of his jeans. I played the fabric over his shoulders and let my fingers run across his bare flesh as I removed his shirt.
Then I grabbed him by his hips and pushed, pushing us further into the apartment as we came to an abrupt stop slamming into the wall a few more feet in the apartment.
His hands tugged at the fabric of my top, pulling it up as we broke our kiss momentarily to let it slip over my head. I didn’t afford him the view of my bare breasts, instead choosing to press my hard nipples against his bare chest and let us feel each others bare flesh touch.
He grabbed me and spun me, moving us just that much further into the apartment and once again pinning me against the wall. His lips found my neck and started sucking there as my hands fumbled with his belt and the zipper of his jeans. I managed to get them undone and tugged them over his hips, pulling down both his pants and his underwear at the same time. He kicked a bit, removing his pants and shoes and letting them scatter across the floor.
His hands, meanwhile, grabbed at the waist of my skirt and tugged it over my hips and down until it fell to a puddle at my feet. I took the liberty of slipping my panties off before I pushed him away from me with enough force to make him back up against the opposite wall in the hall.
We took stock of our situation, of each other, of our environment.
We were standing in a hall strewn with clothes, only a foot or two from what looked to be the living room of his apartment. He was fully naked and I was wearing only a sock. We both were out of breath, both flush from the situation, and both looking like wild animals about to consume each other.
He was built, a slim build but built nonetheless. He had wide shoulders and a trim waist. His muscles were fine and tight, his whole body twitching and tightly wound. Between his legs, well his cock wasn’t immense but it was certainly above average. It was nicely thick and a good length and it was fully hard and jutting out from his waist.
I don’t know which of us pushed off the wall first but we came crashing into each other in the middle. I jumped up into his arms as he held me to himself and walked over to the couch.
We fell down into the couch, him sitting on it with me straddling his legs. I felt his hard cock press insistently against my sex.
My body moved automatically, my hand reaching behind me to find his hard cock and grasp it. I started to stroke his shaft. It wouldn’t work, in spite of all of my best movements and my gentle squeezings I knew this wasn’t going to work. Chalk it up to a combination of the dry friction of his skin and the awkwardness of my position. If I was going to get him off I would have to change this up.
I stood up, stepped back, and fell to my knees in front of him. My head ducked down and my mouth opened to accept his cock inside.
I just did all of this automatically, not thinking until I was bobbing on the first third of his shaft about exactly what was going on.
It was only then, as my tongue was making circles around the head of his cock, that I realized. I had a mans cock in my mouth. I was giving him a blowjob and my body was loving it.
As if sensing my hesitance my hand moved all on its own, finding its way between my legs to play with my dripping sex.
The combination of this, the feel of his hard cock in my mouth, the feel of my fingers playing with the lips of my pussy. I felt tingles break out all across my skin as my hips began to buck into my hand.
I took him deeper in my mouth, took him down as far as I could until I started to feel myself desperately need air. Then I let him pop out of me, stroking on hand up and down his hard cock while my mouth ducked down to suckle on his hanging balls. Looking up at him I saw his heavily lidded eyes staring back at me, heavy with lust.
My body took over and the protests of my mind receded. I wanted this. I needed this. I needed to feel him inside of me.
Standing I turned and straddled his legs, I used one hand to guide his slick cock to my waiting sex. Then I fell on him. I pushed my hips down until he bottomed out in me and I could feel his hips pressed against my ass.
I gave him a little grind and then got to work.
Bouncing up and down on his cock I could feel him fill me up. He may not be long and he may not be thick but this sensation was so new to me that he felt enormous and he felt like he was scratching some sort of long lost itch deep inside of me.
I grabbed at my breasts, feeling the sweat breaking out across my body as I continued to bounce up and down on him. I pinched my nipples and felt the spark run through my body, arching my back as I thrust myself against his hips and tried desperately to take more of him inside of me.
This, all of this was amazing. It was amazing and intense and filled me up. My oh so sensitive body was trying desperately to maintain some sense of control, of composure, and failing miserably. I moaned out loud, lewdly crying out my need to the open air as my hips lost their timing. No longer was I rising and falling on him, no longer was I controlling myself. Now I was raising myself up on trembling legs and letting myself fall back down on him, slamming his cock up inside of me.
I couldn’t do this anymore, couldn’t be in control. I needed to be taken. I needed to be fucked. I needed him to take over.
He sensed it too.
His hands gripp
ed my hips and he lifted me up. His cock remained inside of me as he walked around to the arm of the couch and draped me over it. I was propped up, balanced on the arm of the couch with my upper body pressed into the seat and my ass pushed up into the air. The angle meant that my feet, my toes, could barely graze the ground. I was completely at his mercy.
He tightened his grip on my hips and started to pound into me.
He wasn’t gentle or kind. This was nothing like the confused man I had pushed into this apartment. This man was taking me from behind with long hard thrusts, pounding me time and again as he took what he wanted from me.
I’d never been fucked like this before, never fucked anyone like this before.
I had no idea what I was missing.
It was so close to pain, just brushing against it but never quite crossing that threshold. I felt myself pushed into the seat of the couch with every one of his powerful thrusts and I had to grab at the pillows and scream into them to keep from being too loud.
I felt his arm wind up and smack the side of my ass. That was it, the final straw that broke the camels back.
I exploded then and there, the smack sending a wave through my body that tightened all of my muscles all at once. Something bubbled up inside of me and then bubbled over, burning through my body all at once and making me scream out. I clenched my eyes shut and let the waves of furious passion bubble over me. He didn’t stop, he kept up his perfect and powerful rhythm from behind me as my muscles loosened and I lay there like a rag doll feeling him pound into me again and again. I lay there a twitching mess and just enjoyed the sensation of his hard cock filling me up and sliding in and out of my quivering sex.
I heard him grunt, felt him release my hips and pull out of me. He grunted one more time as I felt something hot and sticky splash against my ass and legs. It seemed to go on forever and ever as he spurted again and again on me.
Then he was done and I slipped off of the arm of the couch and found my balance on my wobbly feet. He didn’t say anything, just stepped out of the room and stepped back in with a clean towel.
I giggled when I took it from him and used it to clean his sticky semen from my skin.
We dressed in silence, stepping gingerly along the hall to retrieve our clothing.
I looked at him, watching him blush and try and fail to find something to say to fill the silence. Gone was the wild animal who had just taken me, returned was his handsome and shy counterpart.
When I was fully dressed I gave him a quick peck on the cheek and then stepped out of the door.
The little shop that had started all of this was still standing there at the end of the alley, I walked over and straight in the door.
She was still there too, that arrogant clerk who had sold me a false bill of goods.
“The rock,” I said, not even waiting for her to look up, “It messed up and turned me into a woman.”
Still not looking up she replied, “That wasn’t the stone, it was the tea I gave you.”
I blinked rapidly, processing what she had just said. It of course made perfect sense. She had turned me into a woman, and the stone had just made me an object of desire for everyone in the street.
“Can the stone turn me back?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said.
My mind made up I dropped $50 on the table and continued, “Okay I’ll take the stone.”
“The price has gone up,” she said dismissively.
“How much,” I said, “I’ll pay anything to turn back.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, “Are you sure that is what you really want?”
I was shocked, thinking back to everything from today. All of the things I had experienced, everything I had felt.
I took my money back and took a step towards the door, “I need to think about this.”
“If you leave,” she said, “The price will go up again.”
I stopped at the exit to the store, one hand on the door. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. Maybe there were advantages to being a woman.
I stepped outside.
Scientific Sexuality: The Nerd Becomes A Knockout
My name is Alexander and I would like to tell you a story. Let’s start with me.
If I described myself as a college dropout who lived in a dirty and rundown old building on the edge of town you’d probably start forming an opinion about me. You might even build up a picture of me when I go on to describe myself as tall, skinny, and perpetually covered in dirt and grease. If I went on from there to describe how my clothes were always either too big or too small, how they were unfashionable because they looked they were taken from the dumpster outside of a second hand store, how my hair was never cut or styled but rather mostly just pulled out of the way of my eyes.
What if I added in some details about my personality? How I can count on one finger the number of friends I have? How I’ve never had a girlfriend? How I can go weeks without speaking to another person?
Who are you picturing now?
A college dropout with no friends wearing dirty clothes and living in a building that looks like it is abandoned.
I bet I can guess, but you’d be wrong.
I don’t like to brag, don’t like to talk at all but especially not to brag. Bragging feels too coarse, too needy. Like I’m relying too much on the acceptance and understanding of others to create a picture of my own self worth.
I didn’t need that, I knew exactly who I was.
I was a man of science. I was alone, but I was capable.
It would be a lie for me to say that being alone didn’t bother me a little. I mean at my core I am a person and people seek companionship but for the most part I’d always taken solace in science when everything else failed me.
It’s not like I didn’t try either, for a time in my first year of college I was even popular. Hell isn’t that a story.
It starts, as all good stories do, with a girl.
Mary. She was beautiful, long black hair and a fantastic body. She was a part of the track team at school, was there on a scholarship for it. Not that she needed it. She was pre-med and incredibly smart. I wanted to catch her eye so badly, wanted to be with her. She saw me too, but only as a friend.
So friends we stayed, her and all of her friends both men and women.
That first year all of my friends were part of that same circle. I don’t know how I managed to get in but somehow I found myself surrounded by jocks who didn’t hate me. For the first time I was actually accepted by them, not as a physical equal, but as a personal equal.
Okay, so I might have overstated it when I said that all of my friends were part of the same circle. There was one who wasn’t, Michael.
I had befriended him in the first week of school, before I met anyone else. He… wasn’t the best sort of person but I felt for him. He wasn’t strong, or physically capable. He wasn’t a jock. He was a nerd, like me.
The thing is there are always two different sorts of nerds. There are the nerds who do and then there are the nerds who talk about doing.
I am the first sort, a capable sort. Smart enough to figure out how to do what I want to do and get it done.
The second sort always talks about what they want to do and always talks about how hard it is or how unfair things are. They have a higher estimation of their own intelligence then they probably should all things considered.
He was the second sort, and within a few days of introducing him to all of my other new friends he had managed to completely alienate everyone else. I was his only friend left and I only kept him around because I felt bad for him.
When he approached me about the project I was a bit skeptical. Not about the actual project, I was certain I could make it happen, I was skeptical about how it would affect him mentally and psychologically.
I felt bad for him though, so I went ahead with it.
The idea was simple enough.
The body is a remarkable machine, when it starts as a seed in the womb it has the
ability to build almost anything. If you could figure out the right code, figure out the right set of instructions, you could have the womb build whatever person you wanted to be.
It goes further than that though, if you could reverse engineer that code and unlock the elements of the human genome that determine cell reproduction, reconfiguration then you could instruct a human body to rewrite it’s own code even when it is a fully grown adult.
I’m making it sound a lot simpler than it really is. Suffice to say he brought up the idea of having a human body reconfigure to build whatever type of body you wanted. In his case, he wanted to be attractive and physically capable. He wanted to be a jock so he could fit in.
It took me months and I honestly credit all of my success to a single late night fever dream brought on by too much ramen. I had a breakthrough.
Over the summer between first and second year I built and tested the machine that made all this possible. With a week to go before the second year of school I transformed him.
It was a success. He was everything he wanted to be.
Me? My grades had suffered and I was on academic probation. I was exhausted from long nights and looked like a shadow of who I once was.
I know you’re probably wondering why I didn’t use the machine on myself. The truth is I just didn’t care, didn’t see the benefit in being attractive. I just didn’t, as stupid as that may sound.
Anyways second semester kicks off and he is a hit with everyone. He credits his change to diet and intense exercise over the summer and everyone just kind of buys it. I’m not sure exactly what happened, I was still suffering from a severe lack of sleep.
The first big party of the year was at the frat house of a bunch of friends of mine. I was exhausted and after a single drink finally realized I needed to sleep. The sleep came quickly and easily in one of the upstairs bedrooms.
At least until I woke up.
I woke up to being jostled off the bed and onto the floor in the space between the bed and the wall. In their defense they hadn’t noticed me, or so I thought.
I was awkward, and I really probably should have said something but instead I just lay there listening to the two of them. Kissing, grunting, giggling.