There were more zings.
For a male, there is only one kind of orgasm. It can have varying levels of intensity, but it all springs from one place. That's the urethra. It gets irritated by the stimulation, and calls for something to soothe it. That something is semen.
But the female's body works differently during sex. Her urethra isn't really involved, except on a tangential basis. Rather, there are nerves inside her vagina that are stimulated, and other nerves associated with her clitoris that are stimulated. There is less information available about the thing called the G-spot, but some scientists believe that is a different set of nerves that are more developed in some women than in others.
The point is that a woman can have different kinds of orgasms, based on which set of nerves is producing it.
A woman's orgasm can be a soft, soothing, tinkling stream kind of thing, or it can be a bone-crunching, being-overwhelmed-by-an-ocean-wave experience. Or anything in-between. A lot of it has to do with her mental state. Sex has just as much to do with the mind as the body, if not more.
Of course Craig did not know all this. All he knew was that doing this or that felt really good, and he was having a blast finding all this out. Which is why he wasn't aware when the combination of things he was doing brought about one of those really soft, really slow, almost lazy kinds of orgasms, completely unlike the electric release he was used to when his penis demanded relief.
But it satisfied his female body in a way that caused him to decide that he'd experimented enough for the night.
After all, he could do this whenever he felt like it now.
*****
There is a peculiar condition the human penis can get into. I'm not sure there's a name for it. But if you stroke an erection long enough, and slowly enough, the mild level of irritation eventually produces a kind of pain that makes one stop stroking. Once that happens, the erection, lacking further stimulation, begins to soften and that lingering pain discourages further manipulation of the penis.
It isn't pleasant. It's not really "painful" but it isn't any fun either. What it is, is mildly frustrating.
And that's how Carly fell asleep ... mildly frustrated.
*****
Day two of the alien exchange program was minutely less unsettling. It is impossible to elucidate exactly how it happened, but each teen adjusted a bit more, accepted the situation a bit more easily, and explored their new bodies with more interest and comfort. That they were twins, and therefore talked to each other about all this, undoubtedly helped.
An example of that was, again, when they went to the restroom the next morning, before they began the arduous task of packing up in preparation for going home.
"How'd you sleep?" asked Carly, remembering her vague frustration.
"Like a baby," he said, happily. "I actually kind of like your body."
"Yours is okay," she replied.
"Just okay? Come on. That's a great body. I worked hard on that body. The babes love that body."
"Yeah, yeah. But I feel like I weigh a ton. And your penis! It's impossible!"
"I've always kind of liked it," he said, bumping her with his shoulder. She felt it between the tip of her shoulder and elbow, and was startled to look down at her sibling. She was used to having to look up.
"Can I tell you a secret?" she asked.
"Sure."
"You swear you won't tell?"
"Don't go all drama on me. What is it?"
"I touched it last night."
"You mean my cock?"
"Yes."
"Good. I touch it every night. It probably would have been freaked out if you hadn't touched it."
"Really?" The surprise in her voice was clear.
"Sure. Beat the shit out of it regularly. It will love you for it."
"Craig!" she gasped.
"You have to start calling me Carly," he reminded her.
"Yeah, yeah," she said. "I have a question."
"Okay.
"When you touch it ... it ... um ... you know ... shoots stuff ... right?"
"Of course. That's the whole point."
She was silent as they walked on.
"Didn't it do that for you?" he asked, as he realized what the context of her question might mean. He always went to bed prepared to catch his spend in some way. Sometimes that meant a wash cloth, or his the underwear he'd just taken off, or even a sock. It occurred to him she wouldn't have known to do that.
"Did you get my sleeping bag all skanky?" he groaned.
"No!" she blurted. "Nothing happened. It didn't do anything."
"You mean it didn't get hard?"
"No, it got hard just like it had been doing all freaking day long. And it felt good to ... you know ..."
"Jack on it?"
"Yes," she said. "But it wouldn't shoot."
"Oh," he said. "I get it now. Don't worry. That's just because you don't know how to do it yet."
"There's a right and wrong way?"
"Of course. You have to have just the right grip, and go just the right speed. There's a point where you speed up, and then, presto, the volcano erupts."
"Oh," she said, mildly disappointed. "So how do I learn all that?"
"I'll show you," he offered. "When we get home, and can get some time alone, I'll give you all the tips. You'll be fine. I can imagine how frustrated you feel. If I don't bust a nut at least daily, I get a little crazy. Sometimes I go two or three times in a day."
"You're kidding," she gasped. Then she remembered how her penis had been stiff most of the previous day, and could suddenly understand how those persistent urges might encourage that kind of practice.
Suddenly, she felt like she finally understood boys a little better. If boys experienced what she'd experienced yesterday ... and last night ... she wasn't surprised at all that they acted like maniacs.
"Carly?"
"You have to call me Craig," she said, automatically.
"Yeah, sorry. I need to tell you something."
"Okay."
"I sort of touched myself ... I mean your body ... last night, too."
"Oh really?" She smiled. That actually made her feel better. "How'd it go?"
"You're not mad?"
"Why would I be mad?"
"I thought you didn't do that stuff."
Craig was in the position many brothers put themselves in, when thinking about their sister. You tend to put your sister on a pedestal, or even in an ivory tower, when it comes to her sexuality. At the same time you think of her as a brat, a pain in the ass, a monster, a tattle tale, or any number of other unsavory kinds of character, when it comes to her sexuality, she is a virgin. Her virtue is unsullied, snow white. She would never think to plunder her tender sex with lusty fingers. And the thought of anyone else trying to do that makes your blood boil.
It doesn't happen to all brothers, but it happens to a lot of them, perhaps even the majority.
Of course while this is happening, the girl is just plain normal, searching for the same things and having the same problems as everybody else. And of course she's aware of her sexual yearnings.
But Craig had never imagined her as being a girl who masturbated. It just went against his inflated view of his sister. Even now that he'd done that to her body himself, it was mildly shocking to imagine her doing it before their bodies were exchanged. Masturbation was, perhaps, the one thing they'd never talked about together.
"Of course I do. I've done it since I was twelve."
"Twelve?!" he gasped. His whole body suddenly felt tense.
"Sure. I learned how in the bathtub, and have been doing it ever since."
"Bathtub? Me too!" he squealed. He didn't notice it was a squeal. His mind was already adapting to his new voice.
"Well, there you go."
"This is weird."
"Well, duh," she said.
"No, I mean I'm not used to the idea of you doing that. I never thought about it before."
"And I never thought about you
jerking off in your room before," she said. "But you didn't answer my question. How'd it go for you?"
"Great," he sighed. "I loved it. It's so different. You have all these places to touch, and each one feels different, but they all seem to connect to something deep inside, right here." He put his finger on his belly.
"I feel everything right here," she said, cupping placing her hand low, between her legs.
"Oh yeah," he sighed. "I remember that. But I don't feel anything like that in your body."
"So did you get off?" she asked.
"I don't know."
"What do you mean, you don't know? If you got off, you'd know," she said.
"Something happened that felt really good, but it wasn't like busting a nut," he said. "I was able to go to sleep, though."
"I wish that had happened to me," she said. "I still feel all anxious."
"Don't worry," he said. "Like I said, I'll show you how to take care of it when we get home."
"Deal," she said. "And maybe I can give you some pointers too."
"Deal!" he said, feeling better already.
There was an itch in the middle of her back and she automatically reached to scratch it. She felt still-unfamiliar muscles stretch and then stop. Her hand couldn't reach the spot. All her cherished flexibility was gone. Now Craig had it.
She had to ask him to scratch it for her.
With her own fingers!
Chapter Four
Of course they didn't tell their parents they were going to teach each other how to masturbate. Who would? I mean it was a weird situation, but it wasn't that weird.
Hmmm. I'm just sitting here looking at that last sentence.
I guess it was as weird as something could ever get.
But they didn't tell their parents, which was pivotal, because if they had, I'm quite sure different decisions would have been made, which would have affected the future of the twins in very different ways.
Again, I'm babbling. I'll just cut to the chase again.
On the way home, Fran turned sideways in her seat and looked back at her children.
"You're going to have to spend as much time together as possible. You need to teach each other how to be each other before you go out in public.”
"We already are each other," said Craig.
"But you don't act like each other," argued Fran.
"How can I teach him to be me?" complained Carly.
"I don't know," admitted Fran. "But you have to. And he has to get you ready for when you run into Josh, and Tim and Brandon and all his other friends. And Craig, you know most of her friends, but not well enough to sit and engage in girl talk with them."
It was quiet in the back of the van as both teens tried to imagine what it was going to be like mixing with a whole new set of friends. Actually, they weren't "new" exactly, but it seemed like it, because, suddenly, the type of relationship was different than it had been. Carly thought about one of the boys her mother had named, Josh Green. He and Craig played tennis together, more or less regularly. He'd been over to the house half a dozen times, but not for long, because when Craig was ready, they went to the courts to play. He was cute. More than once she'd wished he'd ask her out. But that actually made her shy, so she never tried to talk to him while he was there. They smiled at each other in school, but that was it. Now, suddenly, she was going to be able to spend as much time with Josh as she wanted.
Except that she had no idea how to play tennis. And she had no idea what kind of things they had talked about ... what kind of things she should know about him.
"There's no way we're going to be able to pull this off," she said. "We've spent years developing friendships, and neither of us will ever be able to catch up on everything we should know. Maybe we should just move away and start all over."
"Be systematic about it," said Jack, looking in the rear view mirror. "You have three weeks left before school starts. We'll tell your friends that you both came down with something contagious, and that you have to be quarantined for weeks. Then the two of you will have all day to talk about each and every friend, and what each is like and all that kind of thing."
"We'd have to be joined at the hip to cover that much ground," complained Craig.
"Okay," said Jack. "Fine. You have to be joined at the hip. You're twins. You can pull this off. I'll move your bed into your sister's room. Each day you choose a couple of friends to educate each other about. Then, every night before you go to sleep, you can test each other on yesterday's friends, and drill each other on the ones you talked about before that. You have plenty of time to teach each other what you need to know if you apply yourselves. Any inconsistencies or slips can be blamed on this unknown disease or something."
"You can't move his bed into my room," said Carly. "There's no room. If his bed was in there we'd have to crawl over them to get anywhere at all."
"I'll get a cot then," said Jack, undeterred.
"Dad, I have a queen bed," said Carly. "We can just sleep on that. We're only talking a couple of weeks. And we used to sleep in the same bed."
"Not since you were ten," said Fran. "Things have changed since then."
"Yeah," said Carly, dryly. "I used to think about penises once in a while. Now I have one."
Now it was quiet in the front seat for a while.
"She has a point," said Jack.
It was quiet a while longer.
"He has a point," said Fran, softly. "We're going to have to get used to this too. We can't slip up either."
Which is why, the first night they were back home, the twins ended up standing beside Carly's bed, contemplating getting into it with their new bodies. Both were thinking about what they'd already done, and what they'd already offered to do for each other.
And it had nothing to do with learning about their friends.
"This is weird," said Craig. He felt like that was his new motto. He was in what was now his room, except he had always known it as his sister's room. Her things were on the walls. Her brush was on the vanity. A pair of her panties was lying on the floor beside his feet.
Except this was now all his. Those panties were his.
Suddenly, he was crying. The emotions he was feeling seemed entirely new. They felt entirely new. He was grieving. He had, in a very real sense, lost someone. It wasn't to death, but it might as well have been. In another sense, it was like breaking up with someone you loved, and then seeing that person all the time. He was going to have to interact with that person on a daily basis and he wanted back what used to be, but he knew that could never be, and he grieved because of it.
"Hey," said his own voice, softer than usual, more caring than usual. She stepped toward him and took him in her arms. His arms. Except now they were being controlled by his sister. They weren't his any more. The ones he had control of went around his body automatically. His new hands didn't quite reach around her back, but her arms surrounded him. He suddenly felt safe, which was crazy, because it was his arms that were wrapped around him, and his arms that were making him feel safe.
But it was the body he was in that felt those arms, and melted against his old body, clinging to it while his new body sobbed. He felt frustration and embarrassment. He never cried like this. Girls cried like this.
"It's going to be okay," his deep voice assured him.
A strange thing happened. He still heard his voice, even if it sounded odd ... not quite right ... but he also heard Carly talking to him. It just felt like Carly, because it had been said in the same way Carly would have said it if they had never been switched.
"Easy for you to say," he mumbled into his own chest. "You're a guy now."
"I know," she said. "But I'm going to try to overcome that deficit."
He pushed his upper torso back and looked up. For some reason his attention was briefly drawn to the muscles under his hands, and how firm they felt. He'd felt his muscles before this, but it wasn't quite the same. Using her fingers made it feel different somehow. He stopped th
inking about that and went back to the point he wanted to make.
"Deficit? It's not a deficit. You have it easy. Being a guy is easy."
"You think so?"
"Of course! It's being a girl that's impossible. I mean I've never watched you, but I know it takes you hours to get ready in the morning. All I do is get up, comb my hair, brush my teeth, put something on and I'm ready to go."
"It takes me fifteen minutes," said Carly. She frowned. "I'll teach you how to do it in fifteen minutes."
"It's still easier being a guy."
"I don't think so. I think it's incredibly complicated being a guy."
"Why?"
"Well, for one thing, your penis is acting up again."
"What?"
"I have a boner, Craig."
"Right now?"
She ground his body against him and his body felt what was undeniably something big and firm. It was rubbing right at the point where, he knew, his sister had removed all the hair between her legs before he inherited her body. He felt that place deep in his new belly begin to hum, and the nipples on his new breasts seemed to somehow try to fold in on themselves. He pushed completely away from her.
"What the fuck?" His wonder was a product of both reactions, hers and his.
"Exactly," she said. "Why does your body get a boner when it hugs ... me?"
"I don't know," said Craig, softly. He was distracted by his nipples, which demanded to be squeezed. Except he wasn't going to do that in front of her. Himself. Whatever. He wondered, briefly, if this was going to drive him insane.
"Have you ever felt ... that way ... about me before?" she asked.
"Now hold on," he said, holding up a hand that was still too slim and too soft. "You're the one in my body right now. It's your brain working things. Maybe this is all about how you feel about yourself or something."
"I've never wanted to masturbate after looking at myself in the mirror," said Carly.
"Crap, Carly!" he groaned. "You can't say things like that!"
"Why not? This is what's happening. You heard Mom and Dad. We have to learn how to be who we are now. You don't have to deal with having this boner, but I do. And it would help if I could figure out why it's there."
Alien Exchange Program Page 6
