by John Dylena
He felt his mouth water. A hunger filled him and desire washed over him. There was a spark down between his legs and a chill up his spine. He wanted his. He had come so far already. What was the harm in going just a little bit further?
Mike leaned forward, his eyes glued to her cock. Solara grinned and widened her legs as he crawled up to her.
“Thatta girl,” she said, lifting Mike’s chin as he inched closer to her. “I want to hear you say it.”
“Say what?”
“You know what.”
His already red face became darker. “I… I want your cock.”
“Again.”
“I want to suck your cock.”
“Once more, and address me properly.”
Mike bit his lip. Each declaration made him hotter and hornier. He squeezed his legs together and moaned as a drop of liquid lust flowed down his inner thighs. The sensation stuck with him and all he could think about was how wet he was and how much his pussy hungered.
This… this can’t be what all women feel? This is incredible. So powerful.
“I want your cock, Mistress Solara.”
She pulled her hand out from under his chin and his face fell forward. The tip of her dick was a few inches from his face, and he said nothing as he slowly wrapped his lips around it.
“It’s a wonder that only an hour or so ago you were a man’s man, an alpha dude with a great muscular body and the confidence to take what he wants.” She moved her fingers through Mike’s long blonde hair as he slowly bobbed up and down on her thick shaft. “Now look at you. You’re a weak-willed, submissive little slut. How does it feel to fall so far?”
Mike said nothing. Half of her cock was in his mouth and his tongue was busy caressing the underside of it. Any sounds that escaped his lips were moans. He was swept up in the sensation, and the deeper he went, the better it felt.
Solara grunted and groaned, often voicing how good it felt and how now she knew why men liked it so much. She squirmed on the bed as Mike took the full length into his mouth, occasionally letting it fall out so he could catch his breath.
His right hand snaked its way down past his breasts and his fingers found his cunt. He twitched and let out a squeal as his fingers parted and played with his wet pussy. Solara grabbed his chin and lifted his gaze up to her.
She smiled. “How about the real thing instead of those thin, girly fingers of yours?”
Mike bit his lip and silently nodded.
Solara crawled forward and Mike fell onto his back. His breasts heaved and bounced, and faster than he could blink, she was on top of him. She pinned his wrists to the bed and he looked up at her. Her black hair hung like the boughs of a willow tree and her blue eyes shone through the shadow cast on her face.
She released one of his wrists and brought her hand to his face. She brushed her thumb across his lips and slid her hand down his throat to his breasts. Mike moaned and writhed beneath her as she fondled his heavy, aching tits.
Solara pushed her hips forward and slid her dick across the moist folds of his cunt. She teased him with her cock, rubbing it and coating it with the clear fluid that oozed out of him until he begged for it.
She brought her lips down to his ear and whispered. “Say it again.”
“Fuck me!” he cried out. Mike was in agony. His body wanted it so badly and she wouldn’t stop teasing him. It was all he wanted. It was all he desired. “Please fuck me, Mistress!”
Mike’s eyes opened and he screamed as Solara buried her cock inside him. “Oh, fuck!”
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Solara said as she pulled out slowly.
Mike could only moan as she pushed back in and started fucking him rhythmically. Her hips gyrated and Mike found himself pushing his hips up against hers.
She pulled out, ordered him onto his hands and knees, and slid back into him. Mike dropped his head and watched his breasts bounce as she rocked back and forth. Solara gripped his hips, occasionally slapping his ass as she fucked him.
Mike gripped the sheets. He knew what was coming despite having never felt a woman’s orgasm before. The buildup was intense, already surpassing the best sex of his life as a man. By now he would’ve cum and the deed would’ve been done. Instead he kept climbing higher and higher. The fire grew hotter and hotter. His skin tingled and he could feel the pressure building.
He was so close. So very close. His head grew light, he closed his eyes, his jaw hung loose and his moans got shorter and faster.
Then it happened.
Mike’s eyes opened and rolled back into his head as he cried out in unfathomable ecstasy. Every nerve in his body fired off at once. He was swept under the wave and was drowning in pure carnal bliss.
Solara pulled out, and globs of her demonic cum oozed out of his pussy. She fell back into her heels and Mike fell down onto his side. He stared off into nothingness as he rode out the remainder of the sexual high.
His brain cleared up and he was able to think straight again. That was… that was beyond anything I could have possibly imagined. This is what it’s like for a woman? This body is so sensitive, so wonderfully horny. I… I can’t go back to being a man. This is better than anything I could ever experience as a guy.
Solara lay down next to him and ran her fingers through his hair. He looked at her and suddenly felt very tired. His eyelids grew heavy and the world went dark.
Mike opened his eyes to pale light of dawn. It filled the room he was in and he sat up, rubbing his eyes. As his vision cleared he discovered that he was back in his own bedroom and almost immediately he realized he was back in his old body.
His hands went to his chest, and instead of large, heavy breasts he found firm pecs. He reached down between his legs and came upon his cock and balls.
Mike frowned and sighed heavily. When he laid eyes on the clothes he wore and the empty bottle of booze on his bed, he figured it was all a dream, that he had come home after work, got plastered and past out.
He scrolled through his voicemail and found Ashley’s missing and wondered if that too was part of the illusion brought on by the alcohol. He fell back onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling.
“If it was a dream,” he said aloud, “it felt so incredibly real.”
A week later, Mike was in the backseat of a luxury town car with a coworker who busied himself with his phone. Every night since his dream encounter with Ashley, he’d dreamt about being a woman. Those dreams were so vivid, and every morning, he woke up sweating and breathless.
Mike stared out the window as the car drove down the busy street, and turning a corner he spotted the café he’d supposedly met Ashley in. He sighed, his eyes traveling listlessly over the patrons.
Then he saw her.
Sitting in the corner of the patio was a woman. She wore a black dress with red shoes. Her lips were the same color red and she wore dark sunglasses. Her brown hair was pulled up into a bun, and as the car drove pass, the woman titled her head forward and Mike saw a pair of bright blue eyes.
He blinked, and the woman was gone.
WORKING FOR A WITCH
As soon as Eric got the call, he just knew his luck had turned around.
He couldn’t sleep that night. How could he? Eric had just nabbed the best job in the world. Scratch that; the best job in the world would involve being around scantily clad models all day—women who would eagerly remove what little clothes they wore when he was around—and this job wasn’t quite that.
A stupid grin appeared on his face as he laid on his bed in his dark apartment. His mind shifted from his new job to one of his many fantasies that entailed the blonde hunk of a man that he pictured himself as.
In his wildest dreams, he was always swimming in a sea of pussy. Gorgeous women threw themselves at him in a desperate bid for his nine-inch cock. He had his own personal harem, all eager to serve and please him, no matter his demands.
He opened his eyes, and the brightly lit penthouse he’d been imagining vanished, replaced
by his studio apartment—the one with bars on the windows and three locks on the door. He sighed as he slid his hand down his boxers and gripped his six-inch dick. It had been a little over a month since he’d broken up with Carmen, the dark-haired Hispanic girl he’d met at a ramen stall, of all places, and that meant the only company he’d have tonight would be his right hand.
He stared up at the slow-moving ceiling fan as he jerked off to thoughts of riches and women. Eric wasn’t an ambitious man—in fact, many would call him a slacker—and he knew very well that his fantasies might be the only place he ever achieved his goal of reaping the most reward while exerting as little effort as possible.
The night breeze blew in through the barely-open window, accompanied by the sound of papers scattering onto the floor. He ignored them. He knew they were only the collection notices from the many companies he owed money to. There were more important things he had to attend to.
Then she showed up.
It was always her that pushed him over the edge. He closed his eyes and pictured himself back in the extravagant penthouse where he lived like a king. Eric always preferred blondes, not because they shared his hair color, but because in his mind, blondes were the sluttiest. There were three of them at his feet right now, triplets, their matching ocean blue eyes gazing up at him reverently. Two of them played with his monster cock while the other pressed her big tits into his back as she massaged him.
He had power over the imaginary women. Eric could make them say whatever he wanted them to. They would obey his every command. All except her, the black haired vixen that had been interrupting his dreams lately.
Her fair skin felt so much warmer than the rest, and her delicate touch seemed softer and gentler. Her eyes were gray and her lips a rosy brown. She wasn’t a sexy apparition that he conjured himself; he had no control over her. This mysterious woman said and did whatever she wanted. She haunted his sexual dreams, showing up uninvited and ending his fantasy every time.
Except this time, it was different.
The woman walked into his mind’s eye wearing the sexiest, sheerest lingerie he could have ever imagined. Black like her hair, it hugged the perfect curves of her body. Dark stockings covered her legs and she walked slowly toward him in six-inch, black platform heels.
In his mind, Eric sat on a large couch that faced the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of his imaginary penthouse. The clicks of her heels echoed inside his head. Her hair shined like obsidian and the blondes that were at his feet shied away to make room for the lithe woman who commanded his dreams.
She sat down on his lap and straddled him like a stripper about to give a lap dance. Eric stared deeply into her ashen eyes as she placed her arms onto his shoulders.
The woman smiled as she slipped her nimble fingers through his thick blonde hair. Her eyes scanned his body and her gaze lingered on his chest. He felt his flesh grow warm beneath her stare, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She was so beautiful.
The woman leaned forward and kissed him. Her lips were supple, and her tongue was swift as it parted his lips to gain entry into his mouth. He felt his chest begin to expand as she kissed him, swelling beneath her breasts as she pressed them against his skin.
Eric was too distracted by her perfect kiss to notice that his body was becoming female. His blonde hair fell to the back of the couch as his dick disappeared between his legs. The black-haired goddess slipped her fingers between his pink lips and into the hot, moist flesh of his pussy.
She pulled her head away as Eric moaned, his now-sultry voice filling his ears and he looked down at his new female body. The woman’s smile turned wicked as she fingered his pussy, and Eric writhed under her skillful touch until it was too much. He threw his head back and screamed until he came onto the woman’s fingers.
Eric opened his eyes and sat up on his bed. His heart pounded in his chest and his body was covered in sweat. Early morning light filled his bedroom, highlighting the stain on his sheets where he’d climaxed. He wiped the sweat from his brow and frowned deeply, trying to swallow the fact that the best orgasm of his life had just come from imagining himself transformed into a woman by her hand.
He collapsed backward onto his bed and grabbed his phone off of the nightstand. He had a little less than an hour until his alarm went off.
I won’t get any more sleep after that, Eric thought to himself as he set his phone on the empty pillow beside him. Then he climbed out of his bed and tossed his soiled boxers into the hamper.
The hot water pounding down on him from his showerhead was soothing, but it reminded him of another thing he was going to lose if he didn’t pay his bills soon. He lingered in the shower, his arms folded and his back to the tiled wall as he tried to figure out who this mysterious woman from his dreams was. He was twenty-seven, and she looked like she was five or ten years older than he was, which would place her in her mid-thirties or so. He couldn’t think of anyone he knew who would fit that description.
“Damn it! Who are you?” Eric yelled as he slammed his fist into the tile. He searched through the archives of his mind to try to remember her.
Did I see her at a restaurant? Was she a new face at the gym? She sure as hell wasn’t someone he’d slept with. No, he remembered all the faces of the women he’d been with. starting with Elena, the half-Asian girl who took his virginity at a party senior year of high school, all the way up to Carmen, his last conquest.
He pressed his forehead against the tile and let the almost-scalding water flow down his back. After several minutes, the heater gave out, but his phone was beeping again anyway. It was time to get ready for work.
Eric couldn’t believe he had gotten the job—hell, he could hardly believe that he’d even applied for it. A personal assistant? he’d thought when he saw the listing. That’s just a glorified secretary, and only women are secretaries.
He was just about to pass over the ad when he’d noticed the salary. The job paid six figures with full benefits, which was more than double—almost triple—what his old job paid. With money like that, he could move out of his dumpy apartment into something much nicer—a place he wouldn’t be ashamed to bring a girl back to, and a place he actually felt safe in.
So what if I’m some corporate big shot’s helper? he thought. I’ll be more than glad to get some old guy coffee and answer phones if it means getting a nice big paycheck.
He stood in front of his mirror and double-checked his appearance, making sure he looked as good as he knew he was. First appearances are everything.
The interview for the job had been over the phone, and he found it strange that had never heard of the company before. He’d tried to look into it, but not a single thing could be found. There were no articles, no interviews, and no videos of any kind. He thought it might be a scam, but those kinds of ads tended to get reported pretty quickly, and he couldn’t even find any record of that, either.
In his best shirt and tie, he drove to the location that the e-mail specified. When he arrived at the entrance to the unmarked building, he was greeted by an armed guard. He gave the guard his name and watched curiously as a second guard scanned the underside of his car.
“Here is your temporary parking pass. You’ll receive a permanent one, plus your ID inside.” The guard pointed him in the direction of the employee parking lot and the marked space which was his.
Eric nodded, thanked the gun-wielding guard, and then cautiously entered the underground employee parking lot.
He drove slowly, his eyes scanning the cars parked in the spots. They were all luxury and sports cars; everything from Mercedes to Audis, Lamborghinis to Aston Martins, and even a couple of Teslas.
For the first time in a long time, Eric felt intimidated. His dinky little car made him feel like a beggar at a king’s table. He stood out like sore thumb.
But all that would change once his paycheck arrived, he reminded himself. He could replace his car with a sleek new one and fill his closet with designer clothes.
<
br /> His hit his brakes and stared in disbelief at the sight in front of him. No. Fucking. Way.
He held up the parking pass given to him by the guard and tripled-checked the number. The unmarked spots where anyone could park were on different levels and were a long walk from the front doors. Yet here he was, probably fifty feet or so from the entrance. There was his parking spot, open and waiting for him.
On one side was a silver Mercedes-Benz SLR McLaren, and the other was occupied by the maroon Aston Martin of the COO of the company. Smack dab in the middle was his spot, and on the wall in front of it was his name and title: PA to the COO.
The Chief Operating Officer? His hands shook nervously as he guided his small car between the two masterpieces. Holy fuck, what the hell did I get myself into?
The inside of the building was lavish, but still professional. The ground was solid marble with ornate rugs, dark wood furniture, and high-end security. Directly opposite the front door was a large receptionist’s desk and Eric couldn’t help but smile when he saw the petite brunette look up at him from behind the counter.
I wonder if inter-office relationships are allowed? He thought as he adjusted his tie as he walked up the desk. He rested his arm on the counter and smiled at the receptionist. There were two other women behind the counter, both on the phone.
“Hi, how can I help you?” Her voice was soft and playful.
“Name’s Eric. Today’s my first day here.” He winked at her and the receptionist smiled.
“One moment, Eric.” She looked away from him and typed away at her computer, her fingers moving quickly across the keys.
“You type pretty quickly,” he said, hoping to win her over with a compliment.
“Comes with the job,” she replied with another smile.
“When you do get off? Maybe we can get a drink?”
The receptionist handed him a slip. “Take this card and go through those doors over there. Security will take your photo, give you your permanent pass, and escort you upstairs.”
Eric took the card from her and lingered.
