by Zoe Brown
“UhnnnnnnNNNNNNNHHHHHHHHH!!!!!” I found myself screaming out, loudly, gasping up at him as his monster of a cock jackhammered its way into and out of my soaking wet pussy. It only lasted for a few seconds, fifteen or twenty at the most, but those were the fifteen or twenty most erotically intense moments of our entire sexual encounter thus far, as his hard, veiny cock savaged the sensitive ridges and walls and depths of my womanhood so fast and so viciously and so powerfully, his massive hip and ass muscles contracting and thrusting so quickly that I could barely tell when he was entering me and when he was pulling out of me, that I screamed, gasped, moaned, and screamed some more for all of it.
“—YES!! YESSS!!! YESSSSSSS!!!!” I was crying out, over and over again, teetering on the edge of that orgasmic abyss, just holding on with sheer willpower as I waited for the feeling of his hard, thick cock contracting inside of me with the orgasm that I so craved to feel.
Glancing down at myself, at my nearly-naked, mostly-exposed small, curvy female body, my pink, yielding vagina split asunder by my lover’s cock, my thighs spread wide open and sticky with my juices, my pelvis smooth and flat and sloping from the base of my abs to the womanly mound beneath which my new vagina sat, on the receiving end of my big, powerful lover’s intense, insistent thrusts; and taking in the big, beautiful white mounds of breasts that were quivering and shaking on my chest with every powerful thrust from my lover’s cock and every heave and gasp of my breath; and feeling the firm, tight, powerful grip of my big man’s hands on my hips and my ass, holding my hips and my pussy in place as he railed his manhood in and out of it, I realized that I now felt more… submissive, more delicate, more dollsome and objectified and at my lover’s mercy now than at any point in our encounter so far. And while I had thoroughly enjoyed everything that had come before, when we were both involved in our sexual encounter, me riding his cock every bit as much as he was fucking me with it, I discovered to my unexpected delight that I was enjoying this moment of feeling completely overpowered, at my lover’s mercy, and surrendering to his lust, too. Not as much, perhaps, but in a slightly different way, in a slightly more… um, well, inwardly private way? The feeling of submission, of giving in to my lover’s powerful thrusts, his throbbing cock, was helping me to connect to my feelings of femininity, and womanliness, and relate to that again in an entirely new way – this, this letting my man exhaust himself upon my sex, letting him use my body for his sensual delight, being on the purely receiving end of the pleasure he was giving me, but which was mostly for his benefit, was not performative femininity, not like putting on makeup and dressing in sexy female clothing, or flirting with hot guys, or anything like that – this was subjective femininity, this was willing surrender to a powerful, potent masculine force, accepting a receptive female role in this sexual encounter – if only for this moment and only in the context of the fact that it was enjoyable for ME, too, as a momentary diversion – and it was thrilling, and exciting, feeling the power of that choice to submit to this, to let my body be on the receiving end of his lustful excess, to just… be the sexy woman that he wanted to cum inside of, for a moment.
I felt more feminine and more like the kind of woman I had craved to become in that moment than I had felt all day so far. It was a limited understanding of womanhood, I knew, even in that moment, but it was an experience that I knew no masculine man had ever enjoyed, one I certainly never had. As I felt the powerful, straining muscles of his arms beneath my small, delicate female hands, as I looked up at the big, broad, powerful shoulders and the thick, corded strength of his chest, I thrilled in the knowledge that I was woman to this man, right here, right now, in this moment. I was Eve to his Adam. I was Cleopatra to his Antony. Juliet to his Romeo. My thighs parted, my vagina accepted, and his cock entered me, his seed filled me. I loved it. I thrilled to it. I craved more of it.
And then, suddenly, his cock spasmed inside of me. He cried out, and I felt his orgasm within my wet, sopping, sensually overwhelmed pussy, even contained as it was by the latex sheath surrounding his cock. I felt his manhood jerk and spasm and spurt inside of me, and I threw my head back, cried out, and lost myself to the storm.
Chapter Twenty-Four
We were kissing again, tenderly and sensually this time, enjoying one another’s mouths with no sense of need or urgency any longer, still panting against one another’s faces as our breathing gradually returned to normal. He was pulling his pants on, and I was tying off the top of the used condom with my deft, delicate fingers.
“You should call me when you get back to the city,” my lover whispered hoarsely against the smooth fullness of my cheeks. I shivered, touched by the sentiment, and nibbled tenderly on his earlobe as I sucked down more air before replying.
“Mmmmm, I’d love to, but I won’t be back in town for a couple of weeks, I don’t think,” it was a lie, but a more truthful one than not. Although Ashton would definitely be returning to San Francisco at the end of Ashley’s sexy weekend getaway, I had no idea yet when, or if, Ashley would be making a return appearance herself. Sure, I was having fun right now – hehehe, a lot of fun, I thought to myself, purring internally – but who was to say I still would be in a day, or two, or three, or that after this weekend was over I would ever feel the urge to transform myself back into a woman again? I had heard of plenty of guys who did one stint on Werewoman, enjoyed themselves, but then never tried it again. Best not to get my big man’s hopes up – Ashley might not be back… any time soon.
“Take my number, anyway?” He offered, pulling his phone out of his pocket and showing it to me? “I want to see you again, bella, I want to make love to you again.” He grinned. And I grinned back. I felt a surge of pride and pleasure rush through me at the knowledge that despite the brevity of our encounter, I had quite thoroughly pleased my man – he wanted more of what he’d sampled.
“Mmmm, alright,” I smiled prettily at him, batting my eyelashes and pulling my own phone out of my purse. “What is it?” He gave me the number, and I entered it into my contacts. “But what should I call my big, dark, handsome, sexy stranger?” I teased him, seductively, fingers hovering over the buttons on the screen. “Rufus, god of love? Hercules, hammer of sex? Thor, god of thunder fucking—?”
“Antonio,” my big man grinned and shook his head at me, walking over to his bike and slipping the helmet off of his seat as he gazed back at me. “Antonio Ramirez.”
Mmmm, I kinda like that name. “‘Antonio Ramirez,’” I confirmed, smiling up at my man again and batting my eyelashes as he straddled the seat of his bike, powering the thrumming engines back on. “God of my pussy.”
He laughed, lightly, cradling his helmet in his hands as he gazed at me, still perched on the edge of the seat of my bike, and still partially undressed. I’d pulled my bra down over my boobs after we’d finished, but my flat, sloping womanly pelvis and empty, red, raw and well-fucked woman’s crotch and vagina were still exposed. I was enjoying the gentle, throbbing aftershocks and the cooling, pleasant sensation of the ocean breeze on my nether regions. Plus, I had no idea how to clean up the sticky mess between my thighs just yet, and had no desire to pull up my leggings and panties until I had. But it was with full-appreciation for my womanly attributes that Antonio looked me over then, as if he was capturing the moment permanently in his memory. “And what do I call you, Bebé?”
I grinned at him, sliding my phone back into my purse at last and my ass off of the seat of my bike, stretching out my aching, cramped legs beneath me and my arms over my head as I once again relished in lithe limberness and flexibility of my new female form. “Ashley!” I called out, over the thrum of his motorcycle. “Ashley Rhodes!”
“See you around, ‘Ashley Rhodes!’” My big, hot hunk of man grinned one last time at me, donned his helmet again, gunned the engine of his bike, waved, and then peeled off out of the empty lot. I was left standing there, all alone, beside my bike, with my leggings and panties bunched up around my right ankle and my new pussy aching from
the thorough railing it had just received, contemplating the stickiness across my pelvis, my womanly mound, and between my thighs, and how the fuck I was supposed to clean my new female parts up after sex without any running water at hand.
I was just starting to grudgingly resign myself to the idea of wiping myself off with my bare hands and just dealing with any remaining stickiness for the remainder of my ride to Carmel when I suddenly remembered the wet wipes Jade had insisted that I put in my purse before heading out today. Oh yeah! Shit, Jade, thank you. Sighing with relief, I pulled the little pink and white package out of the bag and ripped the sealing open, pulling out a single wet wipe and using it to gently wipe away the stickiness spattered across my pelvis, over my mound, and down between my thighs.
“Mmmmm…” That’s nice. I moaned softly to myself as I caressed my over-sensitized, raw, aching womanly parts with the damp, cool, very-non-alcoholic wet wipe. After the strenuous sexual exertions of ten minutes ago, this gentle caress felt like a much-desired soothing balm of relief. It wasn’t that I hadn’t enjoyed my sexual dalliance, of course, just that trying out my brand-new womanhood on one of the bigger, thicker cocks that I’d ever seen in real life might not have been the best choice for a recently-gender-transformed new-woman such as myself. It was a thoroughly enjoyable experience, to be sure – In fact, I felt my body warm and flush slightly, shivering with just the memory of it – and one that I hoped would be replicated several more times throughout the course of the weekend ahead of me, but it was a slightly taxing one for my new lady parts as well. The cool, faint dampness of the wet-wipe was like a caressing comfort upon parts of my new, female anatomy that had not yet recovered from the thoroughly delicious savaging they had just enjoyed.
Once I was finally clean between my thighs (I also wiped down the seat of my bike for good measure), I tossed the used wet wipe into the bushes beside empty lot, the same place that I’d tossed the spent condom a few minutes before, feeling bad about the littering but making a promise to myself to come back with a small plastic bag on the return leg of my journey and retrieve the spent testimonials to my first sexual encounter as a woman. Then I pulled my panties and leggings back on again, sighing with pleasure as I felt the snug, comforting tightness of my lacey panties and shiny black tights being wrapped around my sensitive new woman-crotch once more, buttoned my silk blouse back up to just above the top of my bra – so that my cleavage remained on display – and then shook out my long, dark, tangle-resistant hair before I slid back onto my bike, fired up the engine again, and coasted my way gently out of the vacant lot and back up the road onto the highway once again.
As I prepared to get back on the south-bound roads again, I put an earbud back in one ear and started up my music once again. Catching a glimpse of the time on my phone – it was half-past-six now!? shit! – I resolved to really pour on the speed for the remainder of my race to Santa Cruz, reasonably certain that I could shave at least fifteen minutes off of my travel time if I kept above 75 mph all the way down, and then accelerated back onto the highway with a thunderous roar from the powerful engine nestled between my thighs.
6:33, I thought to myself as I burned metal streaking down the highway, zipping past slower moving automobiles and around tight curves as I accelerated up past the mid-sixties and towards the seventies, I’ve been a woman a little over 90 minutes, my first time ever as a woman. I’ve already had one of the hottest, most sensually exciting sexual experiences of my life, my first SEX ever as a woman, and I found a way to connect to several hot, sexy, exciting new aspects of the woman I want myself – Ashley – to be. And I can’t wait to see what the rest of the weekend has in store for me!
✽✽✽
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to me at the time, back on the Executive level of Rhodes Multinational Holdings, the beautiful and industrious Amy Cho was still sitting behind her desk, typing up a few final corrections to the interoffice memo on market forecasting that her boss, Barbara Markham, had asked her to draft before slipping out of the building that night. She hadn’t minded. Even though it meant that she had to stay back in the office for well over an hour past when the majority of the staff headed home for the weekend, she honestly enjoyed having a little time in the relative quiet of the Friday late afternoon stillness to get ahead of things for the week to come; so much the easier that way to impress everyone with her preparedness early the next week.
But then, once she finished doing one last review of the document, making sure there were no spelling errors or grammatical mistakes before she saved the file to the office server and then shared it with her boss (who would access the draft on Monday when she came into the building, polish it up with some finishing touches of her own, and then send it out to the rest of the executive and managerial staff), she took a quick, furtive look around the office to make sure that no one else who was left in the nearly-deserted office was watching, eased open her top, right-hand drawer, withdrew a white, folded up napkin that she’d snagged from the coffee cart in the conference room, and laid it out on the top of her desk, unfolding it and taking another look at the small, pink pill stamped with the astrological signs for both Venus and for Mars that she’d snatched off of the floor of the executive conference room some two hours earlier. After it had fallen out of the little plastic baggie in my coat pocket.
“Well, well,” she murmured lowly to herself, grinning mischievously as she picked up the small pink capsule and rolled it around in the palm of her hand, “Mister Rhodes… I would have never guessed…”
‘… or is it ‘Miss’ Rhodes, now?’ She typed a minute later into a new message window on her phone, using an old, anonymous junk e-mail address that she ought have deleted years ago, snapping a quick photo of her compromising find and uploading it as an attachment for the e-mail. Entering my work e-mail address into the ‘To’ field, she went back to add some more to her message.
‘I do hope you’re having a wonderfully naughty time this weekend. Tell me, who do you prefer? As a woman, I mean. Men, like your former self? Or other women, like you and I? I’d love to hear all the sexy details when you get back…
Go get ‘em, girl.
Sitting back in her chair with a satisfied smirk on her face, Amy signed the e-mail – first with her name, and then, after a moment’s hesitation and a slight frown, replaced her own name with ‘Your new gal pal’ instead.
Then, biting her generous, painted bottom lip, she set the phone down face up on the top of her desk, took a deep breath, mustered up a tremulous smile, and with a shaking finger, moved to push… ‘Send’…
End of Book One
Thanks for reading Addicted to Womanhood: Book One, the first part of an ongoing gender-bending erotic romance series by ZOE BROWN. Be on the lookout for future installments!
If you enjoyed this story, or have feedback you would like to provide that could help me make my stories better in the future, please leave me a review! <3
As ZOE BROWN, I write and self-publish Erotica, Erotic Romance, Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Superhero, and LITRPG stories that feature male-to-female Gender Transformed heroes-turned-heroines in the starring roles. If you enjoyed this Zoe Brown story, you can find more of my work on Amazon by visiting my AuthorCentral page at https://www.amazon.com/Zoe-Brown/e/B06XXTW2RF/
Additionally, if you would like to view updates about future releases and support my (Zoe Brown’s) continued writing, you can visit my Patreon at https://www.patreon.com/ZoeBrown
Thank you again for reading my story! I hope you enjoyed it!
Zoe
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