Savage Urges

by Poppy Deveaux

  No! No, no, no, no! How the hell did Mark live like this all the time?!

  Three

  Mark, incidentally, was not doing all that well himself.

  Oh God, he was thinking, what the hell did I do? I kicked Vera out?! Oh God... She's going to find someone better for her than me out there, I just know it! Christ, what an idiot I've been! Who would want me? She's just going to find someone prettier and smarter and funnier and younger than I am... Why didn't I just let her have her way? We could have figured it out after sex... Dammit, dammit, dammit!

  He tried to contain himself, but he just couldn't stop thinking of Vera, wrapped in an encasing of beautiful woman, piled all on top of one another in every skin shade, pale and tan and deep dark chocolate, writhing around all over her, their heat melting them together, their limbs wrapping around her...

  That was his job, dammit!

  And suddenly, he thought of Vera, in his body, completely naked, crawling up onto him, wrapping him in her arms...

  God, the pronouns in this fantasy were really killing him...

  But suddenly, he felt aroused. He was getting incredibly moist between the legs at the thought of himself fucking himself, anxiety about the overall situation be damned, and he decided that maybe it might just be about time to inspect his newly acquired femininity...

  He plunged his fingers down between his legs, and felt up the tight, pink meat of his pussy-

  And he shuddered...

  “Ohhhhhhh... Christ!” It was far, far, far more sensitive than he'd imagined it, and he savored its texture and its warmth as he pressed it around, exploring the contours of his juicy coochy, pressing into the little pink nub of his clitoris, and-

  Holy fuck!

  Suddenly he remembered something, his breasts heaving with the sensation as the feeling raged through his body, and he scrambled for the drawer of the bedside table, pulling out Vera's vibrating marital aid.

  Hellllllll yessssss....

  If he couldn't have his own meaty cock between his legs, he supposed he'd have to settle for a buzzing plastic one instead.

  He inspected the thing for batteries, and turned it on at full blast- a rookie mistake for men who have suddenly and inexplicably transformed into women and wanted to experience their first female orgasm with the aid of a vibrator. It was rattling in his grip like a fucking chainsaw by the time he plunged it into his body, and by the time it was all the way in, it was too late for him to realize his mistake.

  “Oh Christ, oh Christ, oh Christ, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh FFUUUUUUUCCCKKK!”

  The damn thing was stirring him up inside, tearing him apart with sensation, humming so steadily that he thought the bed would start rocking beneath him. His knees closed in to one another to try and contain the agony, his toes curled into he sheets, as did his fingers. The orgasm ripped through his body like a wildfire, raging up from his cunt, and sending convulsions in thick, intense waves through his form, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” and he tore his fingers from the covers and cupped them to his breasts, as though somehow bracing himself for the earthquake, but nothing could have stopped him, and he writhed in pleasant agony in the sheets, numbed, his head spinning until he didn't think he could take anymore, and at long, long last, he pulled the thing out of him, letting it roll to the floor and buzz along across the carpet.

  He collapsed back on the bed, his tits heaving, the sweat pouring down along his form, making him cold, shivering as the cool air of the room prickled against his skin.

  And then the door clicked open.

  He sat bolt upright in bed, his heart thudding like a drum in his chest, thinking that it was an intruder coming to take advantage of him-

  But no- It was Vera!

  “Vera! Oh God!!! I've missed you so, so much!”

  Vera looked at him, and then smirked down at the dildo buzzing across the floor. She walked over, picked the slick thing up from off the ground, and clicked it off. “Well, it looks like you've been managing...”

  Mark couldn't help but grin. “Didn't you grow up learning to share your toys?”

  Vera smiled softy, and then a serious expression came over her- his- her- whosever face. “Mark... I owe you an apology... I know we've had some issues, for a while, but... Well... I'm realizing now that being a man isn't as simple as I imagined it was. I was only out for an hour and I felt like sticking my dick in everything with a hole in it...”

  “Wha- You cheated on me?!” asked Mark, his eyes welling up with tears, his lip quivering.

  “What? No! Mark, what I'm trying to say is- I guess... You can't really help having a wandering eye now and then... It's just... Your programming, I guess... And you've been faithful to me all this time despite being barraged with so much constant temptation... I can't pretend it's still all that gratifying to know that I'm not enough for you, but...”

  “What?!” Mark sat up from the bed, covering his breasts with the blankets as he leaned in toward her. “No, Vera, I... You're more than enough for me... It's just... I dunno... Now that I see things from your perspective I see how it must have felt... I mean, I don't think I ever really wanted anyone but the world but you. It's just... Well, like you said, I guess... Biology...”

  They smiled at one another, and then stared into each other's eyes for a long, long moment.

  At long last, Mark spoke again.

  “You know... If you want to kiss and make up again... My back door's always open...”

  Vera's eyes went wide.

  That was about all it took...

  She jumped on him, pouncing like an animal and tearing him to shreds, their lips locked, their tongues lashing, their hands groping one another like teenagers. Mark started ripping off Vera's clothes, which were actually his own, savoring the warmth of his own former body beneath his figures, loving the contours of his own muscles, thinking how lucky women were to get to be conquered by this, and wondering faintly whether he might be gay...

  He tried not to think about this, though, as the two of them were now both completely naked in bed, their bare, switched bodies pressed together, dripping with sweat, sliding around as they pressed together, grinding sensually, flowing like currents, twisting together as they sucked out one another's souls, as though hoping to switch back if they inhaled hard enough, but never, ever, ever wanting to leave this moment.

  Mark ran kisses up and down along his own body, savoring every surface, nibbling kisses up and down along his neck, licking up the broad, muscular swath of his chest, his lips melting around each tender, dark nipple, biting them playfully with his teeth, and then sliding down along himself, dribbling across his six-pack abdominals, lapping up his own dark fleck of a belly button, and then at long, long last, ducking below.

  He stared with some trepidation at the bulbous purple head of his own veiny cock for some time, throbbing and bouncing and glistening, and he swallowed hard, considering the prospect of consumption-

  But then he felt Vera's hand on the back of his head, and he was promptly torn out of his reverie. She pulled him into his own veiny erection, and he squinted, opening his mouth, and let the lips dissolve around the hot, moist thing, tasting his own penis for the first time in his life. His tongue slid along the rubbery underside, studying the taste as he roved along, and at long, long, long last, he pressed down at the base of Vera's erection, his lips meeting her clean shaven pelvis, and he began to bob his head.

  “Ohhhhhhhhhhhh, Goddddddd,” sighed Vera, keeping a firm hold on the back of her own head as she made him deep throat her, pulling him deeper and deeper and deeper into her, her cock plunging down his throat, gagging him, churning up a thick froth of mucus and saliva that choked him, gurgling up and seeping out through the corners of his lips, spilling down his chin like a fucking baby, and tears trickling out through the corners of his clenched eyes.

  Fuck! How the hell could she have gone her entire life without experiencing this? The slow buildup of suction as he pulled away along her cock, so hot, so tight, so
sensual, and the cool, agonizing release of air as he pulled back into her, her own lips sliding up to the base of her cock, getting slicker and slicker and slicker with the fast, relentless accumulation of fluids...

  WHAM!

  She wanted more, more, more, and she held him tight into her body, suffocating him with her erection, making him choke for several long moments, the fluids gurgling up in his throat so that he started making humiliating gargling noises, glug, glug, glug, and she shuddered with pleasure, waiting for the right moment to release, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1-

  She shoved him off of her body, wheezing and gasping for breath, each deep inhale he took sucking down an intense glob of the gooey fluids, choking him even worse, so that she thought the little bitch was going to cough up a lung.

  She was relentless, however, and grabbed him by the waist, flipping him over on the bed with his tits jiggling, and he pulled her ass up into the air toward her, the anus spread wide and black and ready for penetration.

  She slid inside.

  Mark shrieked.

  “Godddd fuckkkinggg dammmmit!” He had two revelations in this moment. One, he was most definitely not gay, because anything that put him on the receiving side of anal ever again was not something he felt particularly happy to experience anytime soon. And two, he suddenly became very sorrowful for all the many years he'd subjected women to being penetrated up the butt with his cock, because he was pretty sure it was about the most painful, agonizing experience he had ever suffered through- no wonder Vera only ever gave it to him on his birthday...

  And Vera loved it...

  She tore into him.

  She slammed into his body relentlessly, fucking him like an animal in grand retaliation for all of those agonizing abuses of her own tender flesh (ironically, of course, it was still her own flesh being abused,) the pair's skin slapping together in short, loud bursts, KLP, KLP, KLP, KLP, KLP, and poor, agonized, and defenseless Mark, screaming at the top of his still wheezing lungs, his spit-spattered breasts heaving, “Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh FFFFFUUUUUUUUUCCCKKKKKKKKK!”

  And WHAM!

  Vera slammed into him at full blast, holding herself in place, and something strange happened. Venus and Mars suddenly fell out of alignment in the sky, and there was a bright flash of light. Mark and Vera both shook like dogs, their entwined bodies convulsing wildly, as their souls twisted out of them, blurring around and around and around.

  Vera's cock was now Mark's cock- or no, it was both of their's, and both of them felt its sensation equally- and it ejaculated forth in a bright silver torrent, and Mark and Vera now shared the same anus, and both of them felt the massive gush boiling over into them, so thick and so abundant that it came spilling out of their asses just as soon as it could enter, and each of them exploded with the shared sensation of the same two orgasms, anal and penile, the combined force ripping their swirling souls to shreds, making their heads spin as they quivered, until at long, long last, they each descended gently back down into their proper selves, Mark's soul in Mark's body, Vera's soul in Vera's body.

  Mark gently pulled himself out of her, and wrapped her in his arms, the two of them kissing long, slow, and sensually, basking in the damp, sweaty afterglow of their twisted lovemaking, and fading gently off to sleep in one another's arms as they drowned in the thick golden fluid of the afternoon sunlight streaming through the window.

  Mars and Venus continued on their separate courses, forever distinct, but each glowing just a bit brighter for their brief alignment along one another's orbits.

  THE END

  Billionaire Magic

  “I think I'm becoming quite the artist,” Emma commented aloud to Michael as she doodled satan horns and a pitchfork on the umpteenth picture of her ex-boyfriend, Adam. Sure, it was childish, but Emma felt entitled to a leave of sanity at the moment. In fact, she felt she was handling things rather well given that just forty-eight hours prior she had arrived home early to celebrate their eleven-month anniversary, only to find Adam tongue-deep in his assistant's nether regions. She didn't break down and cry in front of him, nor did she resort to screaming every expletive in her limited repertoire. She remained calmer than she could ever have imagined, squared her shoulders and commented drolly, “Jeez, Adam. There were leftovers in the fridge if you were hungry.” Emma walked out of the house and headed straight to her best bud, Michael, and proceeded to fall apart into a sobbing figure of shame and misery in his arms. She'd remained with him ever since; she had sold off her condo months ago when Adam invited her to move in, and in truth, she didn't want to be alone. As miserable and dejected as she felt, Michael somehow always managed to make her feel better. He stayed with her day and night for weeks after her parents died tragically in a car accident two years ago; he'd been there for her through every breakup; celebrated every success and consoled her through every failure. Emma wasn't sure how she'd cope without him.

  “You might not want to quit your day job for your art just yet, Em,” Michael teased. “Yeah, I suppose you're right. Besides, I don't have any pics of the jerk left in my wallet, so I'm out of canvases,” Emma responded in kind. “You know, Em,” Michael began a little uneasily. “I'm thinking there might be a better way to put some distance between you and Adam.” Emma cocked her head to show she was paying attention. “I have that cruise trip booked this Friday, and I was thinking you could come with me. You know, get away for a while, soak up some sun, sip champagne on the sundeck. What do you think?” Emma didn't respond right away. She often forgot about Michael's financial situation, and while Emma struggled to seek out a comfortable existence, Michael had comfort in spades. She didn't know exactly how much money Michael had, but she knew he was positively loaded—yachts, mansions and fancy cars-kind of loaded. Changing vacation plans at the last minute might be challenging for the common folk, but for him it would likely be no more difficult than flipping the channel on the television. After she had been silent for a moment, Michael probed gently, “Em, what do you think?” She'd always turned down Michael's lavish generosity, but she was severely tempted this time; putting some mega miles between her and her ex sounded like a splendid plan. “Um, I guess so. If it's not too much trouble,” she conceded.

  A thrill coursed through Michael. He had tried to get Emma to go away with him so many times before, but she had always turned him down. She was the only woman he'd ever known who didn't jump at the opportunity to let him spoil her rotten. Maybe getting her away from the circumstances surrounding their everyday relationship, Emma would begin to see him as something other than her best bud. God, he'd had a thing for her since the night they first met; she was volunteering at a charity function he was attending, and from the moment he saw her, he couldn't take his eyes off her. She was tall and slim, with a gorgeous rack and legs that went on for miles. Her wavy auburn hair fell half way down her back and her big emerald eyes seemed to sparkle every time she smiled. Unfortunately, behind her stood her date for the evening–Lucas, one of his closest friends–so Michael could be no more than cordial toward her then. After that, she was around all the time; every time he'd get together with Lucas, he'd have Emma in tow. Michael swore Lucas brought her along just to tease and torment him.

  But every time he saw Emma he was more captivated than the time before. She wasn't just a hot piece of ass, she was the most genuine, compassionate and kind person he'd ever known. And he nearly beat the shit out his lifelong friend because of her. He was there the day Lucas broke up with her; they had gotten together with a group of friends for Sunday brunch. Half way through the meal, and out of the blue, Lucas turned to Emma and told her she just wasn't exciting enough for him and he needed to move on. Emma was mortified, certain others at the table could hear, and her face flamed red instantly. Michael was on his feet in a blink of an eye, but at first he couldn't decide whether to comfort Emma or go after Lucas with a right hook. In the end, he glared down at his friend and casually escorted Emma out of the restaurant before the tears filling her eyes overflowed an
d the table of acquaintances got nosy. Unfortunately, his role as protector and comforter in that moment, relinquished him to the “friendship” corner in Emma's eyes. And ever since that morning four years prior, he had watched Emma land up in one bad relationship after another, always there to console her when what he really wanted to do was scream at the top of his lungs just how he felt about her. He'd tried to move on, hooking up with gorgeous women--models, actresses, lawyers, doctors–but none of them could erase or replace Emma. He'd stopped trying. Sure, he was still a man with a healthy sexual appetite, but lately, high-priced escorts served his baser needs without complicating the issue with a futureless relationship.

  “I guess that means I should start packing,” Emma interjected into Michael's trip down memory lane. It was already Tuesday, leaving Emma just two days to prepare for a trip to the Caribbean. While she still felt the sting of Adam's betrayal, the prospect of a tropical getaway with her best friend was quickly beginning to soothe her frayed emotions. Oh, but everything she owned was still located at home...or Adam's home now. She didn't relish the idea of having to go back there, but she supposed it was inevitable. “I guess I should bite the bullet and go pick up my stuff or I'll be spending this impromptu vacation naked in the statesroom,” she joked. Michael gritted his teeth against the images suddenly running through his mind, and as much as he'd rather have Emma naked and all to himself for a week, he knew she wouldn't go for that...yet. “You don't have to do that, Em. Why don't I take you shopping...just for a few things to get you through the week, and then you can worry about retrieving your stuff when we get back,” he offered. “Oh, no. I couldn't possibly let you do that. I already feel like a mooch tagging along on your vacation,” Emma insisted. She was resolved, and her stubborness made her feel stronger. Suddenly, Emma was sure she could face Adam and walk away with her head held high. She stood, grabbed her purse from the kitchen counter and threw her arms around Michael. “Thank you so much for everything,” she told him warmly. “I don't know what I'd do without you.” With that, she kissed him on the cheek and walked out the front door to her Impala waiting in the drive. Michael knew she'd be fine; it was yet another thing he loved about Emma—when she committed to something—or someone—she did it whole-heartedly. He also knew that the feel of Emma pressed up against his body a moment prior had him rock hard, pressing painfully against the waistband of his jeans. “Damn!” he cursed aloud as he deliberately tried to turn his thoughts to his plans for the upcoming trip, and headed for a cold shower.