Mara stumbled into the change rooms, nearly tripping herself up for the third time in the past minute as she adjusted to a six foot two body. Peering around, she noted with relief that the place seemed deserted. She crept forward, her footsteps echoing off the tiled floor as she looked around, then with relief spotted a shirt hanging out of a half-open locker. Grabbing it, she shook it out and-
“Hey.” Mara spun around in shock at the voice behind her, instinctively bringing her hands up to cover her bared chest before the feeling of empty space where there should have been breasts reminded of her situation and she forced her hands to her sides. The source of the voice came into view from around the array of lockers; the dripping wet form of Dale Killen. Biting her lower lip, she mentally damned whatever fate had sent her two-year long crush here, now. “Uhh… hi, Dale. What’re you, umm… yeah.” Dale, for his part, was completely oblivious to her discomfort as he grabbed a towel and began to dry himself off and Mara couldn’t do anything but stand stock still, her gaze fixated on him as the guy of her dreams towelled his glimmering body, nearly naked, right in front of her. She barely paid any attention to his reply: “Just got done with swim team training. Coach’s trying to make sure we don’t get completely out of practice now the year’s comps are over. Chuck us my stuff, willya?” He indicated a pile of clothing lying near Mara, who took a moment before she snapped herself out of her frozen state and passed them over. She stood there dumbly as Dale slipped off his swimmers and finished drying himself, and the dawning realisation of what had been happening in her pants since he entered became suddenly urgent. She panicked, and spurting out “Gotta go seeya later bye” in a hurry, she dashed to the toilet cubicles and locked the door behind her.
Unzipping her pants and dropping them and her boxers to the ground, she found her male appendage standing proudly out from her body. It was huge and heavy and hard and urging her to take it and caress it and it was hers. Her penis. Dick. Cock. Objectively she could see that it probably wasn’t THAT big, a little above average, but things seemed to be a lot different when looking down at it as it jutted from her own crotch, overwhelming and strong. She brushed her hand against in and it leapt in response as a tingle of pleasure stabbed through her body. Knees buckling, her ass landed on the toilet seat as the hand drifted down and cupped her testicles, feeling the tickle of the hairs send their own sensitive response into her. Her other hand gravitated to her chest; as disconcerting as the addition of her new parts was, it was matched by the continuous feeling of absence as hard plates of muscular pecs took the place her mind thought should be occupied by breasts. She drifted her hands through the chest hair, and shivers ran through her body at the tickling sensation as the thick coating was stimulated. It was like having a doormat pressed against you, she thought, but somehow the bristling was rather more pleasant.
Her hand down at her groin had moved back to her penis of it’s own accord, and she slumped back on the toilet seat, her long and powerful legs stretched out before her, one hand sitting on her chest fingering her chest hair, the other moving up and down her member in broad strokes as she sat there, jacking off, feeling the pleasure gradually built inside her.