A funeral home is a place for death, but in a small town outside Richmond, until one Friday night. The phone rang at a little past two and he knew what it meant. Someone was dead. He took the information and thanked god that he didn’t have to go to a house tonight. He sat up and looked at his wife, got out of bed and slipped his suit on. He woke up once he got to the funeral home, brewed a cup of coffee, and prepped the hearse for the trek to the hospital thirty minutes later.

I pulled the body from the cooler and transferred it onto the gurney. The nurse handed me a bag with the woman’s personal items, and I placed them on top of the body bag, and covered them both with the velvet cover with the funeral home embroidered across the side. Once back to the funeral home I took her into the prep room and unzipped the bag. She was an elderly black lady. I looked over her information and then looked at her personal items. I checked them off the list. Everything accounted for, although it probably should all be thrown out. Standard policy was to release the personal affects when we met with the family, so I stuck them with her and sat down to call the family. I got no answer.

The next day I called, and then the next. There was no answer. We called the hospital and they could not find any records. It seemed she had just appeared in the hospital. Days went on, then a week. Finally after ten days, I made the call that I had always feared, but one that had to be done. After a discussion with the medical examiner, we had the body cremated and stored the ashes. It wasn’t till a week later that I noticed that we had forgotten to cremate her personal items.

I took the bag to my desk and looked through her things. In it was a small stick, a tube made out of wood. Inside the tube was a piece of paper, very old. I took it out unrolled it and there was a script he had never seen and then what appeared to be a long list of names. They were newer as the list went on, and then finally, the newest was the name Gertrude Francis Wilfred. I set it down on my desk, pulled out a cooler sized bag that was locked at the top. Knowing no one would ever know, I got a screwdriver from the closet and broke the small travel lock. I opened the bag and saw the contents. I dropped the bag. It was money. Stacks and stacks of money. All hundreds. Wrapped with bankers tape. On top was a note:

If you are reading this, then you are now the bearer of the secret and the gift. Fire has released my soul, you have read the ancient script, and now you have taken possession of my treasure. The transformation is complete. You have no choice in the matter. You will learn and figure out things as you progress, but remember you can provide life to those that pass, and a life for the one you deem most rewarding. You have one year to decide.

I had no idea what this damn craziness was, but I knew a good deal when I saw one. A week went on before we had another death, and although I was not the funeral director, I did help get the lady dressed and in her casket. I looked at her once we got dressed and it looked like she actually was looking at me. It couldn’t have been. I helped cap her eyes, but I saw it. I saw her looking at me, but just as fast as she looked, she was back still, her eyes closed. I was completely freaked. I went home before the burial, and that night, after a few beers, alone in my living room, I thought about the lady, and then said her name. The room was a blur, and then I opened my eyes. I felt weak, small, and when I stood up, my pants fell off me. I looked at my legs and they were small and fragile, I felt hunched over. I panicked, and then walked as fast as I could to the bathroom. In the mirror was looking at the woman we just buried. I screamed, and then blacked out. When I woke up I was in severe pain and found myself lying on the floor. I had memories I didn’t recognize, and could barely move. I tried to stand but the pain was more severe. I thought hard. I thought about me. And I said this can’t be, I’m Michael Dreason, and then the fog happened. I blinked, and there I was, my old self.

I stood up easily, went to the kitchen and poured myself a full drink. I drank it fast, and then another. I drank until I felt sick, then went to the bedroom and passed out. The next day I called in and tried to figure out what was going on. I was scared shitless, scared that she might come back. Weeks past, with many more deaths, all of which I was there for or assisted with, I saw them all in ways others hadn’t, but then came the case of Shannon Williams. She had one living relative that flew out from Seattle to make the arrangements. He was an uncle, and told us how Shannon had gotten into the wrong crowd, had moved out eat with a boyfriend and then found herself alone. She came to us after she was gang rapped and then shot in the head.

Even on the table, a dissected piece of meat, you could tell she was beautiful. Her figure, what was left of it seemed right, and you just got a general idea that she was a breathtaking woman, but we wouldn’t have the chance to put her back together. She was cremated that next day, and a week past before I thought about her again. It happed late at the funeral home when I was working on paperwork and her file came through. I read through her file and voiced her name. Shannon Williams. Then it happened. I shivered. It went black, and then I felt it.

I knew I had changed. My body was drastically different in every way. I felt different sitting, weight ratios were out of whack, I was shorter, everything was wrong. I heard a disturbance in the office so I quickly uttered my name and in no time I had returned. I had become Shannon.

I rushed home as fast as I could. I rushed inside and even before the door was closed, I said her name. After a brief black out, I opened my eyes, her eyes. My suit draped on me. My feet were lost in the shoes. My pants pulled down, but held on my hips. I stepped out of the shoes, and almost fell forward because of the length of the pants, but I soon unbuttoned, unzipped, and dropped them to the floor. I got a glimpse of the smooth fit legs I now had. I rushed to the bathroom. I had to see. I flicked on the light and stood gazing at myself.

I had long blond hair, high cheekbones, and very sensual lips. My eyes were a very light blue, mesmerizing. I was beyond beautiful. Images flashed through my head. It was like I was remembering being this person. I walked into the bedroom and dropped my jacked and started undoing the buttons on my shirt. I knew I had weight on my chest, but this was ridiculous. As I unbuttoned, I saw the size of them. They hung like tear drops but they didn’t sag. They were enormous but hung high on my chest. My areolas were wide, a soft red, with wide nipples that protruded nicely in the cold air. I lay naked on the bed and felt the weight of my breasts sway and then settle, pancake on my chest. I felt them. Soft but firm. My skin was amazing. I played like that for a while, feeling them move and react to my touch. I journeyed south as soon as I felt the moistness from my touch. When I reached the junction of my legs, I found no hair, and as I slid my lips apart and gently passed my finger over the pink wet folds of my pussy, I knew that I had never experienced pleasure as a man. I inserted a finger, then two, and moved then in and out, bringing them out to my clit and pushing against it in a circular motion. I felt a heat building. I suddenly began thinking things I never would have before.

I wanted a dick inside me. I wanted it bad. I had never thought about guys as a man, but now the urges were severe. As I thought about it, I picked up the pace. All the images of dicks close up were foggy, not my memories, but then the only one that could have come from my memory surged back. I was shocked, and actually said, Evan Jackson. The darkness came, and then it was different.

I lay naked in bed with a massive dick in my hand. I realized. I was Mr. Jackson, this man that died in a car accident. We had him at the funeral home the week before, and we made comments that he had the biggest dick we had either seen. We made horse comments. He wasn’t that attractive, but he had to have beaten them off with a stick if his funeral was anything to say about it. We had seen his dick soft and then thing had to have measured 7 inches soft, but now, hard in my hand the pole had to be a foot long. It was massive. Not as thick as a gel shaving can, but close, the damn thing couldn’t possibly fuck a woman. Where would they put it, I have no idea. But I was turned on, but the thoughts were slowly changing. When I first had my hand on my dick I was thinking about it fucking me, as Shannon, but now I was jacking this massive dick to the thought of fucking Shannon; I was thinking about fucking me. It was when I thought about fucking her tits, did I blow, and holy shit how I blew. I stream of cum shot to my face, the second hit my face as well, with a third landing on my chest and a few more onto my stomach. The volume was astonishing. Already it was starting to run down on my sides and chin. My hand still slowly milked my huge cock, white foaming cum coating my hand and dick.

“Damn that Shannon….” and the darkness came over me. I lay in bed naked, but I was Shannon, those beautiful pancaked breasts giggled with my movement. There was no dick, no cum, all that had gone, and I lay in bed thinking about the possibilities of it all.

There was no way I could be Mr. Jackson. People knew him, and it was highly probable that if I went out on the town as Mr. Jackson, then it was clear that someone was going to have a heart attack. But Shannon wasn’t from around here. She didn’t know anyone and her family is long gone. I wasn’t going to flaunt it, but it would be safe if I just happened to go out.

I spent the rest of the night as her. And the next night after work. I said her name the moment I walked in my door. For a week I was her more of my time than I was me. I slept as her, showered as her, ate as her. I loved the way it felt just to sit down. To feel her/my breasts move as I walked, but after a week, being naked felt too exposed and none of my old clothes worked. The problem was that I was having a hard time figuring out what I wanted her to wear. I was too recently a man to think of the frilly female attire, but that is what I needed as a woman. When I thought about it as a man, I couldn’t bring myself to going to buy a bras and panties, but I knew there were basics that were needed. I decided on a plan. I would have to buy a bra, but I would go to store and get one, some sweats and a tee shirt and I could go back as her to get everything else.

The problem came when I had to figure out sizes. I had no clue how big my breasts were. I got online and searched for a way to measure myself, and after a quick Google search, I figured it out. I measured under my breasts. This was a bit harder than I thought. It’s hard to hold them both up and get the tape around you. I measured just past 30”, but according to the site I had to add 4 so a 34. I recognized that number from girl friends bra. I then measured around again but this time with the tape over my nipple. Just over 41”. The table said I was a G. A 34G, holy shit. I knew they were big, but I had no idea.

I was shocked and excited. I immediately searched for Victoria Secret (what did I know?), but I found out quickly that they didn’t have bras that size. I figured the stores wouldn’t either, so I quickly bought one on line and rushed the shipping to get there the next day. Next day meant Monday, since I ordered it too late, and because of it, I immediately called and took Monday off. I waited on pins and needles, now always being nervous or antsy when I wasn’t her, for the UPS man. I had changed back into my old self that morning, and after a full weekend as her, I now felt a bit strange in my body. When he finally came, I scribbled my name on the pad and closed the door. Before the door shut I said her name. I strolled to the counter in the kitchen, disrobing as I went. By the time I got through the doorway, all I had with me was that box. I stabbed it with a knife to get it open, and I suddenly realized how excited I was about this moment.

I took it out of the box, cut off the tags, and threw my arms through the straps. I learned quickly that this was impossible to put the bra on that way, so after about a minute, I figured out that I would have to hook it in front and then turn it around. It was harder than it looked. I always had this image of a woman throwing on a bra in two seconds, but pulling it up to get my arms, they didn’t just fall into place. I had to adjust each breast to get it to sit in the cup and then had to pull up each boob to make sure it was over the underwire. Then once I got it in place, I realized the straps were too loose. After trouble getting out of it, I fixed the problem and put it back on.

It felt amazing. My breasts felt snug in the bra. It controlled my movement and took a lot of the weight. They didn’t pull when I walked. I felt like I could move around without being aware of them with every movement. I loved it. I loved my breasts first as a man would, then as something that proved I was a woman, but I was learning got in the way, but now, settled into my new clothing, I loved them more than I ever had.

I couldn’t wait to throw on sweatpants and a tee shirt. I looked beautiful still, although a little dressed down. I loved switching to her, because it was always like I was ready to go as soon as I called her name. I stole some flip-flops and before you knew it, I was at the mall. I bought more in one day then I ever had before. Skirts and dresses, blouses, no pants or shorts. I wanted to feel like a woman. I bought shoes and even a bag, but the highlight of the trip was buying lingerie. I went to several stores, bought thongs and satin panties, a teddy and camisole, garters, stockings, and more panties. I learned I was a size 6. I learned the pleasure of having panties hug my slit and ride into my ass. I couldn’t wait to get home.

I tried on my lingerie for an hour. I put every pair on, walked and saw myself in the mirror. I only had one bra, but I quickly learned I would need more and other options. Then I got dressed. I put my garters on and attached my stockings, I slipped on a matching thong. They didn’t exactly match my bra, but they were close enough. I slipped a dress on and adjusted it, but then figured it wasn’t sexy enough. I then pulled out a black skit that I loved the feel of. It was tight, but loosened as it came down, hugging, but loose enough to provide flow. I pulled a tank top on and looked in the mirror. I had more cleavage than I had ever seen. There was no way. I pulled it off and replaced it with a button up sleeveless blouse. It cut low to show cleavage and stretched past my breasts to my stomach. I looked in the mirror. I looked like the classic clubbing girl, and when I stepped in the heels I bought, the look was complete. No one would ever doubt that I was a woman. All woman. I was smoking hot.

Before I even knew what I was doing, I was walking out of my door. I drove for a while, getting use to what I was wearing, my size, but then I found myself heading towards a bar that I always wondered about. It was definitely a younger crowd, down by the university, so I never really felt comfortable. I was never really in that crowd when I was in school.

I parked the car and decided, why not. I walked in the door, and didn’t realize that I didn’t even bring my ID, not that it would have done me any good, not to mention a means of paying for anything. Sitting down at the bar itself was an experience. I had to lean back against it and then push myself up to keep from showing the room my crotch. It was amazing to be a woman in the middle of the room and everyone see you for that. It was like being able to hide completely behind a wall and just look out on what everyone was doing with no one knowing you were there.

I sat and then reached around for a bag or a wallet or something. The confused look must have been understood, because the guy beside me seemed intent on knowing exactly what I was doing. I caught him looking, followed his eyes until they left my boobs, and then he opened his mouth. He asked me if I had lost something, and I in turn told him that I had completely left everything at home.

“I think we can get you a drink, and I’m sure, “ (he looked at my boobs) “with you, its clear, I mean I think everyone can see that you’re of age,” He laughed.

“Well some young girls got big boobs, don’t let em fool ya.” I said it without even thinking.

“Well they don’t have em that big. Damn.” He looked at me. I was stunned. I couldn’t muster a come back.

I turned toward the bar and took the drink. He looked at me, “you drink that, and you pass the test.”

I looked at the drink. It was straight something, then I pulled it to my nose. Scotch. My favorite. I sipped it. Then smiled at him. I wouldn’t waste a scotch by inhaling it.

“Thank you.”

“So you drink scotch and look like that? Next thing you’ll say is that you love football.”

“Well the Bears are my team, but they aren’t really that good. The Pats always ruin it, but I think the Packers will take it again this year.”

I looked at him. He was starring at me. He didn’t say anything. I turned back away from him and took another sip. We began talking after a moment, and then another drink came. Time went by and we drank more, and talked about everything I loved talking about. He was interested in football, and we talked some baseball. We talked about politics, and he actually seemed interested in what I was saying. Before I knew I was drunk. I struggled off the seat towards him, and did stumble a bit, which he noticed. “Easy cowgirl” is all I heard as I made my way towards the bathrooms. I hadn’t even told him I was going. I was drunk all right. Really drunk. This body was just too small, too different.

Drunk I was aware of my every strange movement. If I had been a man inside looking out of a woman’s body, now I was a drunk man inside a drunk woman’s body. I struggled to make it through the pee experience. When I got back, he looked at me and asked if I was ok.

“I’m sorry, just drank a bit too much too fast. Not use to it.”

“Here, let me get you home. You so cannot drive like that.”

It sounded good, but there was a part of me that wanted to stay out and party. I wanted to do the clubbing thing, feel the party. Get wasted. He pulled my arm to guide the way, and I could feel the drunk getting stronger. He opened a car door for me, and I got in and struggled to get the seat belt on me. I struggled to stay with it, and I must have passed out a bit, because when I opened my eyes he was opening the door for me again. I followed him up stairs and then into a room where I sat down on a couch and he left the room. He came back in the room with two beers, and he handed me one.

“Its enough to keep it going without making it much worse.”

I took it and drank a sip. The coldness of the beer brought me back to the moment. He sat beside me and started talking to me again. I was zoning in and out, drunk much more than I had been in a long time. I struggled to stay with it. He had to know I’m drunk as shit, and then its when it hit me. This was his place, I was hot, and I know what he’s wanting to do. But damn I was drunk. I started analyzing it in my head. Did I really want to do this? Was it like gay if I did this? I mean I think I could let him fuck me, but I don’t know if I could like go down on him or something. That’s just too close I think. I don’t know. I went over and over in my head about it. Thinking about what it would mean if I did that, and I noticed, just then, that he had stopped talking, and his hand was on my thigh.

My mind came to a halt. And I don’t know why, but I opened my mouth. “I don’t think I can suck your dick, but I might be ok with fucking.” I was horrified. I tried to change it, make it right, but those words sent him in motion. He was kissing me before I knew what was happening. His lips took mine, and his tongue flicked mine. His left hand reached over and grabbed my right breast, and immediately, the drunk was joined by another sensation. I was getting turned on. I knew it. He grabbed and moved my breast, and before long he was under my shirt, circling my nipple with his fingers. They were rock hard to his touch, and the hole time he was kissing me. I responded the best I could, and to keep my balance, I reached down to brace myself on him. When I did, I put my hand on his thigh, and felt his semi hard cock. I halted everything.

“Don’t worry. It won’t bite.”

I didn’t change anything. I let him kiss me. He rubbed my chest. He stopped kissing me for a moment, which I then found out, was because he was trying to lift my shirt over my head. I quickly corrected him, unbuttoned, and then quickly found myself without a shirt on. I sat there in my bra, impressive I must admit, but sitting there with this stranger. Before I knew it he was attacking my chest. My tits were out of my bra in no time and the straps had fallen down my arms.

I leaned back and enjoyed the sensation of him sucking on my nipples. It was unlike anything I had felt. I felt my skirt being pulled up, and instinctively, in the moment, I spread my legs. His fingers almost immediately found the front on my thong and began pulled up my slit. I felt his fingers try and force my panties into me and pushed hard when he got to my clit. Once there, he pushed back down into the valley, and the pulled back and continued. I was soaked in no time. If I doubted my thoughts before, it was all I could think of now.

He started kissing me again, pulling back, and with his withdrawal, I came with him. To brace myself, I almost fell in his lap. I found myself almost on his thigh, leaning over him to kiss him. My bra soon came off, and his hands were massaging them with vigor. He interrupted me a moment to remove his shirt, and then pushed away with me to pull down his pants. I noticed it all, but I was lost in a haze of horniness and intoxication. I looked down at his dick. It was hard and large. Much larger than my dick was. It was thick, and had a big head, and he caught me looking at it.

Before I knew what I was doing, I was pushing off him and getting on my knees on the carpet. I was less than graceful, but at the moment all I wanted to do was see what sucking a dick was like. It had to be the body and the alcohol. In no time I was face to face with his dick. I paused not knowing if I could do it, and in an attempt to control it, maybe stop it, I reached up and grabbed it around the shaft. My hand barely circled it, and as small as it was (my hand), it made his dick look that much bigger. If I doubted before, with it in my hand, its hardness, its soft skin, the veins running through it and the defined ridge underneath made me want it more than I had. I forgot all the doubts. I put the head in my mouth as fast as I could. The soft skin went over my lips and my lips instinctively grabbed around it. I was amazed at how much I could actually feel. My tongue lifted as his head passed my lips and I pulled up along the ridge of his head that lead to his hole, and once there separate the skin and pushed my tongue forward into his hole. I didn’t enter him, but I could distinctly feel the opening, and with that I pushed my head forward and lips down his shaft. I went down slowly, feeling him fill my mouth quickly. It felt massive in my mouth, and I hadn’t taken but a little over half of him. He hit the back of my throat and I withdrew quickly, almost gagging. I knew how far I could go now. I had seen porn movies were the woman grabbed the base of the guy’s dick, so that’s what I did. I grabbed him around the base of him and put my finger a bit above where I last went in. I pushed down on him again to test my distance. I got down to my finger, and he didn’t hit my throat, so I picked up the pace.

I started going up and down on his cock faster. The hardness of it in my mouth and the way my lips felt moving over it drove me crazy. I could fell myself getting wet between my legs. I rotated on his cock, licked the head when I took it out of my mouth, grabbed his balls and gently squeezed them as I sucked. I did what I always wanted a woman to do to me. I rubbed his ass hole, and heard him moan. I circled his puckered hole, and with a little pressure he opened. His moan was loud. He scooted down on the couch so his ass was hanging over the edge more, more access. When he moved, I moved back with him, taking his dick from my mouth and noticing my breasts swinging with the movement. It was the first moment I noticed anything more than the feel of his dick, and with that, I dove back on his dick and worked it up and down with force as I felt my breasts sway back and forth and my finger moving in and out of his ass.

When he started to stiffen, both his cock and his body, I knew it was time. I thought about him cumming, then I wanted him cumming. I sucked with more force; I fucked him with more force. My lips pulled around his head, just when the first eruption took place. It shot deep in my mouth with a stream that I felt layer my tongue and hit the back of my throat. When I pushed him back in, the space filled quickly as another stream released. I didn’t swallow. I quickly pulled him back out and used my hand to jack him off as pool of cum that filled the sides of my tongue and the back of my throat increased. I could feel the thickness of it on my tongue, the texture of the quickly liquefying cum. The taste had filled my mind as soon as the first shot hit my tongue, now only replaced by the shear volume. When I would cum I would shoot one, maybe two shots, maybe filling a tablespoon, but this was something in a different league. Maybe this is what every guy did. In any case though, the amount of cum in my mouth shocked me. I could feel him finish but I kept sucking him for a little while longer. I stopped when he reached down and touched my head. As I withdrew, I tried to bring my lips around his head to contain his cum, but I failed a little. I felt it trickle out of the edges of my mouth, and just then he looked at me.

“Let me get you something, and he went to get up.”

I realized what he was doing, and I swallowed. “No its fine.” I pulled my hand to my face to rub my mouth, but he caught my hand, reached over and kissed me. He concentrated on the edges of my mouth, licked his cum from my face and kissed me again. The taste of cum was heavy in my mouth, and him kissing me increased the turn on that much more. He broke with my mouth, and stood up.

“So you don’t suck dick do ya? Could have fooled me. Damn.”

When he stood, he got behind me and pulled me up. As I stood, with his guidance and support, he rubbed my belly onto my tit and my eyes went shut with the wave of electricity that shot through my body. It was on fire. Once standing, he wasted no time. In removing everything. He stood in front me, both of us naked, and his grabbed me and kissed me. I felt his flaccid dick press against me, his lips attack mine, and his hands work their way over my back, pushing to my ass and back.

He pushed me onto my back and my tits violently pulled down slapping my stomach as I hit the couch. Before I knew it, his mouth was on my opening. I became really self conscious, but then once his tongue moved up and down my slit the first time, all I could think of was what was happening. I nearly passed out from him licking me. The feeling was so intense, and just when I thought it would get no better, I felt a tenseness take my body, a heat increase between my legs and then and explosion within me. My body took over. I bucked, my cheat shot up, and I felt my nipples get so hard it almost hurt. I continued to buck and he struggled with keeping his mouth on my pussy.

When I finally settled, my body was Jell-O, but as he stood up, I could tell, he was anything but. His dick stood at full attention. He didn’t ask my permission. He didn’t pause for a response to his movement. He pulled my ass to the edge of the couch. Bent his knees almost into a catcher’s position, and put the head of his dick right into my pussy. My body bucked again as he entered me. I felt myself separate and grip his hard dick. He pushed further and further into me, and I felt myself resist. I was in his control, and I felt the total surrender as I felt I could take more inside me. He paused, then pushed forward again. He pulled out and got on his knees and then entered me again. I felt the void when he withdrew and the pleasure of it being back inside me when he reentered. This time he pushed all the way into me, and as he did, he stopped, grabbed both my tits and squeezed them. He let go and rubbed my nipples, regrabbed them, and that’s when he began fucking me. The force was amazing. He pushed into me with force, and my entire body responded.

I heard the slapping and felt the size of his dick invading me. Every time he entered all the way, he would stay there and grind a bit, giving my clit withdrawal every time he pulled out. I wanted him all the way inside me, on my clit with force. He eventually let go of my tits, and as he grabbed my hips for more control, and started fucking me, my tits started flying. I grabbed them after a short while of them swaying to distraction.

He fucked me hard for a while, then he pulled out and pulled me enough to know he wanted me on my side. When I rolled, he pulled me further, guiding me on my knees. As soon as I was in that position, he grabbed my hips, and guided himself in me. It was much more intense, and he felt deeper, tighter. When he was all the way in, I distanced my knees and the pressure on his dick loosened. With that he began fucking me. The force and the pressure were out of this world. My body took his force, and took it out on my chest. It surged forward, then was pulled back with his withdrawal. I began pushing back against him to get more force and more pressure. I felt something building inside me. A pressure and force I could not control. He slammed into me. I felt him squeeze my ass with both his hands and as his dick hit deep and his body slap against mine, I lost control. I let out a slight scream, and then constant moans. The orgasm hit me hard, and I collapsed my head into the couch. A huge stream of fluid shot out of me as he continued to fuck me. My body was out of control. I put my face in a pillow and screamed. Then he began screaming. I felt the surge of heat inside me. I couldn’t feel him shooting, but I could tell he was. I instantly felt wetter and I lost most of the sensation of his cock. I could feel the size, but not make out the small curvatures. He continued to fuck me and I heard the splashing of the movement, the fluid leaking out of me and down my leg.

He soon withdrew and I collapsed on my side. When I woke up I was in his bed, him beside me asleep.

I rolled out of bed, and looked at him. He was sleeping soundly. I got dressed and made my way through the door. I wrote my number on a piece of paper and then took a banana out and put it on the paper and left. I got home and stripped, showered, and passed out on the bed.

I woke up again and I could tell it was just approaching evening. I still had a headache, so I uttered my name and the pain went away. I sat in a wet spot, naked, my dick hanging. I went to the kitchen and got some food. It had been a long 24 hours, and just as I was finishing my sandwich, the phone rang. I answered, and then, I heard his voice on the other line. He called. I was answering, not her.

“I know this is going to sound bad, but I got a girls number last night and didn’t get her name. Is there someone there…” and he described her down to a t.

“She’s not here right now.”

“Oh, well who is this? When will she be back? Can I just come see her?”

That was a lot of questions. “That was a lot of questions.”

“Yeah, sorry. I just waned to send flowers. Can I get her address?”

Without a thought, I gave him the address, he thanked me, and I hung up. I turned the TV on naked and drifted off, fat and happy.

I woke with a knock on the door. I panicked at first, but that was only because I was naked. I shook of the confusion, and ran to the bathroom where I grabbed my robe and threw it on and looked through the peephole. There he stood. I was excited and scared. Before I knew what I was doing, I opened the door. I was actually excited to see him.

“Oh you must be the guy that I talked to on the phone. Is… um, “ he paused.

“Shannon..”

“yes, Shannon. Yes. Is she here?” I stared at him. “Wait. Hey is she your wife or something?”

I laughed. “No.”

“But your fucking her.”

I laughed at the situation. “No that’s impossible.”

“You mean you don’t find her attractive or anything?”

“No, but I mean, I’m,” I paused. I couldn’t say what our relationship was. He would have a heart attack. “She’s my sister.”

“Oh. Fuck. Damn I’m so glad. I didn’t want to be that guy. Where is she?”

“Oh, she went out of town for the night. My mom is visiting friends that live about 50 miles from here… well you don’t care about that. She’s just not going to be back until tomorrow.”

“Oh, well hey, here are her flowers. Hey can I come in and have a beer? I want to talk to you about her.”

“Sure, whatever.” I was having mixed feelings. It was like what I felt when I was here was lingering, and this was a turning point in my life. One that I wouldn’t know until much later.

I got us beers, and we sat on the couch in silence. The sight was strange, at best. He sitting there dressed to impress, me in a bathrobe. He asked me question after question about my “sister.” He wanted to know what she did, what she liked, if she had been in relationships, etc., and with every question I invented a life for her. We went through two beers, and then a third, and the conversation turned to him, what his life was like, what he did for a living, and soon, the seal needed to be broken.

I got up and went to the bathroom, and when I walked out of the bathroom and made my way to the living room, I didn’t find him there. I looked in the kitchen, and then walked down the hall, past the front door, and into the back of the house where my bedroom and the extra bedroom was.

“So you gave up your room for her?” I had peaked around the door to my bedroom and he was standing at the edge of the bed with a bra in his hands. “Dude, I know she’s your sister, but she is the hottest woman I have ever seen. Damn. Her body is smoking.”

“Yeah all the guys seem to go crazy over her.”

“Crazy. Yeah I guess so.” He turned his head toward me, threw the bra back on the edge of the bed, and I saw his eyes go up and down my body. If was I wasn’t mistaken, he was checking me out. He looked back at the bed and saw the clothes he had removed from me the night before, “So when will she be back?”

“I guess tomorrow.” With those words, he turned to me again, and I could see him staring at my crotch.

“Might want to check that robe.” He motioned his hands as if to say I should close curtains.

I looked down in horror. I had not closed my robe when I got out of the bathroom, and to top it off, I was semi hard. I had a strange attraction to him, not that I wanted him sexually, but I had a need to be near him. I felt drawn to him. It was clear he had seen my state of arousal. I was in shock. I didn’t know what was going on. Twice in two days, I found myself like a deer in the head lights.

Time went by slowly, and I could hear nothing. I saw his mouth move, I saw his hands go to his crotch and unzip his jeans and pull his soft dick out the opening. He didn’t command me to come over. He didn’t motion or do anything, not at least from what I remember. I went to him immediately. He stood at the corner of my bed, and I took my place on my knees between his legs, and without hesitation, I took his flaccid cock in my mouth. It was smaller than I remembered from the night before, but as I moved on it, its soft skin and flexible dick moving with my pressure, it began to grow in no time. I took my hands and tried my best to undo the button on his jeans without pulling his cock from my mouth. I got it undone, and pulled his cock from my mouth only as long as it took to get his dick back through his boxers and his boxers over his cock and down to the floor. He stepped out of them, and I attacked his cock. I reached around him and took his ass in my hands, pulling his cock into my mouth. I would have never imagined I would have been doing this a week ago, but like last night, at that moment, it was all I wanted. I licked his balls, and after a few minutes, I could tell he couldn’t stand anymore.

I pushed him back on the bed, and put my arms on his thighs and went back to sucking. It was Zen like with the kind of peace that took me over with his cock in my mouth. I felt the head, his thickness, the overwhelming size in my mouth. I went deeper than I had the night before and wanted more. I couldn’t get it all the way in, but I tried my best, trying to force it past the back of my throat, with little success. When he put his hands on the back of my head and began controlling my movements, I knew he was ready to blow.

He was against the back of my throat when he blew his load. The force was familiar and instantly got me so excited that if there were a hand on my cock, I would have blown as well. It surged in my mouth, and as I pulled off him another blast took place in my mouth. His cum pooled at the sides of my mouth and as I moved on him, I felt it coating my tongue and teeth. I sucked and sucked, past when he was done cumming. He bucked with my sucking, clearly past the point where he could stay hard but still through the period of his cock being super sensitive. I didn’t come up until his cock was soft, and I was out of breath.

The ice had definitely been broken, but I was almost scared to look him in the eyes. Someone had seen me sucking a dick, now granted, he was the one I was sucking, and I had fucked him as a woman the night before, but this was a huge step. Someone saw, ME. He didn’t give me a chance to think about it much. As I stood, he pulled me to the bed, and then as I hit the bed on my back, he was already moving to my crotch. My dick was in the back of my throat before I knew it. He attacked my dick like no women ever had. It didn’t take me long to cum, but I came hard and he moaned as my cum was releasing in his mouth. I lay there for a minute, while he left the room, and I heard him run some water, and then reenter the room. He stood in the doorway, his dick engorged with blood once more. I was still on my back, propped up on my elbows looking at him. He moved toward me, and I could then see the tube of hand lotion that was in my bathroom. I wanted to say no, I knew what was coming, but he squirted a huge glob on his hand and massaged his cock until it was hard in front of me, and I felt the heat growing in my ass already.

When he was ready, he moved the final distance to the bed, and he grabbed my left thigh with his left hand and pulled me over. I didn’t resist. He didn’t say anything. When I was on stomach, he grabbed my hips and pulled it up and back towards him. I rested my ass on my feel and allowed my chest to hit the bed. He scooted me back so my knees were barely on the edge. I felt his one hand on my ass, the lotion acting as a barrier between our skins. I then heard a squirt and then felt the cold lotion on my ass. He moved his fingers around my ass and then found the glob of lotion and worked it into my crack. When he touched my asshole, I puckered hard, but then he began rubbing. I could feel him rubbing his cock through the movement of his body, and soon he had one finger in me. I could feel him forcing me apart, but the lotion made feeling the finger difficult. He moved it in and out of me, the whole time jacking, and soon transitioned to two fingers, then three. I could feel the size now, and the resistance my body threw up was getting less and less frequent. He obviously felt what I felt, a lack of resistance and openness, because that’s when he withdrew his fingers, gave one more squirt of lotion, and moved towards me.

I felt the head of his cock on my opening first. He held it there and moved it up and down with his hand, getting the lotion all over, and then he settled back on my hole. He pushed slightly, and the thickness of him finally became apparent. He entered me with no resistance, but the thickness of his fingers and cock were two different things. In no time, he was past the point where he fingers had been, and the fullness was overwhelming. I told him to stop, and as he came to a stop with his movement, the size of him seemed bigger. I could feel his heart beat in his cock. I didn’t tell him to start up again, but after a good 30 seconds, he pushed in even more. I couldn’t see but it felt like he had 10 inches in me. When he kept going and I suddenly opened up, almost sucking his cock in, he surged forward what seemed like another 10 inches, and his body came against mine.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to go in like that.” He was still now.

I couldn’t say anything. I was out of breath, I felt like I had a telephone pole in my ass. All I could utter was, “don’t move.”

I felt my ass spread like it had never been spread. It felt like someone’s arm was inside me. I tried to relax, but it was hard. He didn’t start. A minute passed. He rubbed my back and ass. Then it happened. My ass seemed to completely let go. I didn’t feel the urge to squeeze down. It was almost like I couldn’t. He obviously felt it too, because he started moving just a little bit. First it was an inch or so, just barely moving in me, and then testing the waters, he started moving more and more. Before I new it, he was taking his cock almost all the way out and then moving in me. After a few minutes of slowly moving in me, he took his dick all the way out and then pushed all the way back in me. He removed him self a half dozen times, making me almost beg for him to stick it back in me. When he left me, there was a void that needed to be filled, something that needed to be completed, but after his short departures from my ass, once he was in to stay, he wasn’t moving slowly. He began fucking me hard, taking his dick almost all the way out, leaving his head in, but then slamming into my ass, my cheeks taking the force of his thrusts, and my ass hole receiving the length of his cock. I grunted with his fucking. Without warning, I came. I wasn’t hard, but his fucking caused me to squirt on the mattress. I couldn’t do anything about it. He raised my ass and grabbed my hips, and began fucking me harder than before. Harder than I thought was possible. I screamed, he kept fucking. I screamed again and again.

He stopped fucking, and pulled his dick from me. I could feel how wide my ass was spread, and then he pulled me on my side. He reentered me on my side, and with he reentry, my head bucked backwards and the heat in my ass returned. The filling feeling was amazing. As he fucked me like that, I thought about the night before, and was amazed at how different the two feelings were. I could feel the full length of him moving. Last night there was much less pressure.

He reached around and grabbed my soft dick. Self conscious, I tried to move his hand away. I had cum all over my dick, and I was embarrassed by my size.

“Give me that girly clit, or I’ll have to punish you.”

With that he slammed into me, withdrew it completely and thrust is all the way in. I screamed.

I released him hand from his, and he grabbed my dick. I fucked me with a rhythm that matched his hand’s movement on my cock. Amazingly, my dick started to respond. When I was fully hard, he pulled me completely on my back, his dick still in me. He pulled my legs up on his shoulder, shifted my ass over the edge, and then grabbed my cock. He continued his movements, this time harder, and jacked my dick with force. I told him I was getting ready to cum, and he began fucking me hard and almost pulling my dick off. My arms shot to the side and pushed down on the bed. At that moment, he thrust his dick all the way in me and was still. He took both hands and jacked my dick hard, and I came. There was almost no cum, but enough to flow down his fingers. Once I was done cumming, he took his hands and forced me to lick the cum off. Once I was done cleaning his hands, he grabbed my calves, and pushed my ass up in the air more. He commanded me to hold my legs back, and he grabbed the upper front of my thighs like handles. With that he began fucking me harder than he had at any other time. The force was terrific, and it felt like his dick was in my chest cavity. I began grunting when he fucked, but as he continued it turned into a low grumble and accompanied with a complete lack of my lower half. I was a receptacle. It must have been what he was going for, because at that moment, I felt him release in me. It was followed by a large glottal moan. He paused for a second and another shot was released, but then the fucking began with vigor. He fucked hard and the wetness of his cum in my ass could be heard through the splashing. He continued to cum inside me, and it was only when he collapsed on me, his dick finally still, that I knew he was done.

He remained there for at least a minute, maybe two. I was a completely zombie. Fucked till I couldn’t move or comprehend reality. His soft dick slid out of my ass without either of initiating the event, but once it happened, he stood back quickly, got dressed without me noticing, and then walked to the doorway.

“I’ll leave you my number on the table, how bout you or her give me a call.”

With that he left, and I lie there and felt his cum leaking out of my ass. I tried to think about what had occurred, but I felt a huge rush of shame come over me. I can’t believe I just let that happen. I felt like I was going to be sick. Me, let a guy fuck me. I was gay. I almost started crying. My ass hurt. Then I thought about her, and said what I could only say at that moment, “Shannon Williams.”

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