The muffled moaning woke you. “Fucking neighbor!” you thought, “Does that slut ever get enough? I swear she’s going at all day with a new guy every week.” You had been having the most amazing dream, even if you couldn’t quite remember what it was about, and unknowingly rubbing your thighs together, you wished you could get back to it.
Another breathy “Mmmmmmnnnhm“ echoed out, interrupted by a booming, “Good morning, babe,” from right behind you. Startled from your reverie, you realized the sexy, moaning slut was…you? And someone was caressing your bare back.
“I’m sorry about last night. I think Trent’s need for an attitude adjustment triggered my cycle early. You know how I get right before I start.”
No, no you didn’t know. You didn’t really know how you got here. You didn’t know why you only partly remembered what she was talking about. You didn’t know why you were moaning like Stacy McAdams when you took her behind the bleachers after having led your team to victory in the state championship your senior year of high school. You didn’t know why your thighs felt sticky and sore or why that soreness felt…good? And you sure as fuck didn’t know how your girlfriend-with-an-enormous-dong got right before her “cycle” started.
But you did know that if last night was how it started, you didn’t want it to stop. “Mmmmmmnnnhmnff,” you repeated, pressing your face into your pillow as she ruffled your hair.
“Come on, get up,” she urged. “Here, I’ll help you wake up.” With that she kissed your neck just behind your ear, and an jolt flashed down to your curling toes, out your arms, your fingers involuntarily raking the sheets, and forcing its way back out your mouth with an unmistakable “aaaAAAahhHhhhAmm!” that was sure to notify the neighbors of your ecstasy. You couldn’t believe you had just orgasmed without even getting touched…down there.
Your girlfriend laughed, “I’ll never stop loving how sensitive you he-femmes get.” She stood and said comically, “MUAHAHA I HOLD THE POWER OF YOUR ORGASMS IN THE PALM OF MY HAND! —and in my dick,” she added cupping her balls and thrusting her hips forward jockishly. “Now come on, I’m making breakfast.” She turned and strut out of the room without a scrap of clothing.
“I’ll be right there,” you muttered, still recovering. “I have to pee—I think,” you added to yourself. You limped to the bathroom and faced the toilet awkwardly for a moment, before lowering the seat that had been left up, awkwardly turning around and gingerly lowering yourself on your sore legs. You stared down your bare chest dumbly at your new parts, eventually hitting upon some combination of mental commands that caused an undirected gush of relief to leave your bladder—joining with a gooey white substance that was leaking out of you—a lot of it. You had never seen so much jizz in one place. The weirdness overwhelmed you again. “It’s just for a month, they said,” you reminded yourself.
You felt awkwardly exposed in your nakedness, an unfamiliar feeling, and you wrapped yourself in a robe before timidly walking downstairs to the kitchen. You’d maintained your athletic body after high school and college, and your package had been one any man would be proud of (although you did think you’d ever feel the same about it again since seeing your girlfriend with one that dwarfed it) so the novelty of your girlfriend being the one confidently strutting around the house with a heavy cock proudly bouncing around on display between her legs while you were the one covering your slit was not lost on you.
She now stood at the stove unconcernedly wearing nothing but an apron. Even pushed out by her fabulous breasts, the cloth still bulged out even more obscenely over her crotch. You didn’t think you’d ever feel the same about your cock again, having see one attached to your girlfriend that dwarfed it.
As you ate, you remembered more about last night: the surprise—and excitement—at her dominance, the amazing feelings she gave you. As a man, well as what you had know as a man from your reality, sex had always felt urgent, focused, and…victorious. As a…whatever you were now…sex felt indescribably fulfilling; diffuse in a way that made the pleasure stronger, not diluted; and like being conquered—in the best way. Surrendering to your—whatever she was—felt wonderful. Was this what it was like for your girlfriend in your reality? As weird as this was, you could find a way to enjoy your time here for the month.
Lost in thought, you failed to recognize your rising arousal as you replayed these events in your mind, nor did you fully appreciate the what the feeling of your girlfriend’s fingers casually but confidently stroking ever higher between the gap in your robe around your thighs like she owned them was doing to you.
“Anyway, again, I wanted to apologize for last night.”
Had she been talking this whole time? “Don’t,” you replied. “I loved every minute,” you said, only realizing it was true after you said it.
*SPLORP* a gooey strand of maple syrup dripped from the pancake on her fork onto her still-exposed, still-partially-engorged lovestick.
“Do you wanna get that for me?” she smirked cockily.
You slid out of your chair wordlessly.
“I’ll be gentle this time,” she said.
“Don’t be.”
Her dick pulsed at that, and somehow this time, eyes locked with hers, you swallowed it whole.