Horny lonely grandmother seduces grandson
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It's Lonely At The Top free porn video
Author's notes:
This little ditty just popped into my head and my Muse refused to let me be
still until I wrote it. So, 90 minutes later, the following emerged.
The usual disclaimers apply, of course. This would probably be a PG story if
there were PG ratings out there. It is a work of fiction; any similarity between
anyone living, dead, or undead is wholly unintentional and anyone who thinks
otherwise needs to seriously get a life.
I'm dedicating this story to the following authors: Janice Dreamer,
Wendy-J, P.J. Wright, LRochelle, and Anne Phorcy, otherwise known collectively as my
Cheerleaders. You all are the greatest and inspire me with your wonderful words,
powerful prose, and terriffic tales. Please, for the love of God, keep
writing!
Mindy has my permission to post this on Fictionmania. It may also be posted
on any other FREE site as long as I'm notified.
It's Lonely at the Top
Copyright (c) 1999 by Chilli TNG
Jackson's fingers trembled as he reached for the glowing red button. He
was about to make the single most important decision of his career -- hell,
of his life -- and he found himself uncharacteristically hesitant. One
didn't rise to the level of captain in the Space Corps by being indecisive.
He'd made scores of life-or-death decisions before, but this one was the
first death-or-life decision he'd ever made. If he didn't act, and act now,
mankind's fate was sealed; with the push of a button, however, he could
ensure that the human race would survive.
With a momentous "click," he pressed the button, then drew his hand
quickly back to his side as the transparent aluminum door slid shut. Various
lights began to pass over his body, and the device he had sealed himself into
began to fill with a mist, obscuring his sight. He found himself holding his
breath, afraid to inhale the mist and feel its sedating effects, afraid that
he'd made the wrong decision . . . afraid to give up his life.
He could only hold his breath so long, however, and drew in two lungfulls
of air and chemicals. Within seconds, he found himself relaxing, barely able
to keep his eyes open no matter how hard he fought to stay awake. As he
began to drift off to sleep, he found himself wondering one thing:
What will it be like to wake up female?
As the machinery began its complicated task, Jackson began to dream.
And, not surprisingly, his dreams were of the events of the past few weeks.
Jackson and his partner, Lieutenant Braxley, were mere hours away from
completing their mission aboard GeoSync3, the "latest and greatest" permanent
space station to be placed into Earth orbit. Eventually, it would house over
two thousand workers and scientists who were to serve as support personnel
for the first permanent colony on the Moon. Actually, they should have
already been home by now, but a last-minute computer glitch on the station
required attention before they left.
Thank God for computer glitches. That cranky computer spared their lives.
As they worked on repairing the computer, a meteor entered Earth's
atmosphere. This meteor, while small in geological terms, was nearly the
size of a school shuttle. It was just small enough to have avoided detection
from all Earth defense monitoring stations. And, while it was certainly
large enough to do catastrophic damage on impact, it was not of the size to
destroy Earth. But, whatever was inside the meteor certainly was.
Jackson had received the call from Space Corps Command within minutes of
the meteor's impact. He and Braxley looked out the portals towards Earth and
could see, even though they were several hundred miles above the surface, the
crater left by the meteor. They could also see an odd orangish glow moving
outward from the crater. Communiques to SCC provided no assistance; they
were aware of the orange cloud but anyone sent to examine it failed to
maintain communication contact.
Over several hours, the pieces began to come together. Whatever that
orange cloud was, it was deadly to humans. A few other animals were also
susceptible to the deadly effects of the cloud, but many were not. Gas masks
couldn't filter it out, hazardous encounter suits were useless, even totally
sealed spacesuits provided the wearer only a few minutes of protection.
Scientists across the globe worked around the clock to discover some
counter-agent to the strange orange cloud, but none could be found.
At the projected rate of expansion of the cloud, SCC estimated that the
entire surface of the Earth would be engulfed within three days. As the
cloud thinned, its effects occurred more slowly, but were just as deadly. A
number of underground facilities were rapidly converted to living quarters
for those few remaining, but little hope was given for any survivors of this
strange, space-born gas.
During the last official transmission from SCC, Jackson and Braxley were
ordered to remain on GeoSync3. Returning to Earth meant certain death for
them. The space station had already been outfitted with supplies and
materials for the two thousand planned residents; these would last a long,
long time with only two people using them. Additionally, hydroponic gardens
had been established for both food and for renewed oxygen. With proper water
reclamation and recycling techniques, Jackson and Braxley would be able to
last for years in space. Scores of years.
Neither man wanted to stay aboard the space station. Jackson had a wife
and children, and Braxley, while unmarried, had his parents and a number of
brothers and sisters. But orders were orders; moreover, they both realized
that their families would have wanted them to remain.
Daily transmission schedules were arranged, but, after four days, those
stopped as well and never resumed. The two men were truly the last men left
alive.
They busied themselves on the space station, trying to devise ways to
monitor the level of the space gas on Earth. After two weeks of hourly
monitoring, they discovered that the gas was indeed dissipating, but at a
tremendously slow rate. If the rate remained constant, they estimated that
Earth would again be habitable in eighty years, give or take a few months.
Eighty years! They both wondered if they could survive that long. They
were both fit and in their early thirties, quite young by the standards of
the day. They decided that they could survive that long on GeoSync3, barring
any system failures; that is, the food and air and water would last. But
Jackson realized that, for mankind to survive, they would need to be able to
do one thing that was seemingly impossible.
They would need to procreate.
In his spare time -- which both men had in copious amounts now -- Jackson
began a thorough study of the machinery in the medical bay. There were
numerous devices there that were capable of dealing with nearly any
emergency, from broken bones to third degree burns to, much to Jackson's
surprise, amputations. He found that many of the machines operated by
manipulating the patient at the molecular level, using nanobots and picobots
to perform intricate operations far beyond the skill or patience of a human
surgeon.
He discovered, after a week of intense study, that these machines were
capable of nearly any type of genetic manipulation. The software that was
used to control these machines had a sophisticated artificial intelligence
system and was able to divulge, after several hours of silent calculations,
that it would actually be possible to rewrite and manipulate the genetic
structure of a man to remake him as a full, genetically complete woman,
capable of reproduction. It could not, however, make a man out of a woman;
apparently, it was possible to create an XX chromosome from an XY, but the Y
component could not be created from an XX pair.
It would take the better part of a day, the system informed Jackson, to
perform a genetic manipulation of such magnitude. It also told him that the
appearance of the new woman was wholly customizable as well. Jackson spent
six days designing his new image, a prophetic amount of time, he thought.
His design was revised many, many times by the AI of the machinery, which
informed him that many of the features he was contemplating were either not
feasible or would result in a great deal of discomfort for the transformed
person. Jackson wasn't too surprised at this, since he had never once, in
his entire life, thought about how a woman would feel from the inside. But
now, here he was, trying to design a new female form for himself.
Jackson never discussed his project with Braxley; he feared that Braxley
might try and talk him out of it; worse, he worried that Braxley might try
and alter the modification program to change the final result into an image
more to his liking than to Jackson's. Jackson reasoned that, if he was going
to live the rest of his life as a woman, then he wanted control over how she
looked.
When the time came for the procedure to begin, Jackson wrote a brief note
for Braxley and left it on the door to the medical bay. It was a simple
note, instructing Braxley to not touch any of the equipment inside until he
came out. With the note secured to the door, Jackson had stripped and
stepped into the treatment chamber.
As Jackson regained consciousness, the first thing he wondered was how
long the process was actually going to take. Then, he noticed that the
activation button that had previously been shoulder-height to him was now
above his eye level, and he realized that it had all happened while he slept.
He took in a deep breath and felt, for the first time, a strange weight on
his chest that rose and fell with his breathing. He looked down and saw the
tops of two very female breasts on his chest. He brought his hands to his
chest and cupped the breasts. They felt like any female breast he'd ever
touched had felt, but with one major difference -- he was now also receiving
the pleasurable feelings associated with massaging the female breast. One
hand darted quickly to his groin and began to explore there as well. His
old, familiar equipment was now gone, replaced with what felt like a perfect
female vagina.
Jackson stepped from the chamber and walked through the medical bay,
savoring the difference of each step. He could feel the bounce of his
breasts with each step, and the sway of his now-larger hips was noticeable as
well. He looked at his form in a mirror and was quite shocked by what he
saw. Even though he had designed his new form, from the small, slightly
upturned nose to the long, graceful neck to the large, doe-like eyes and
arched brows to the slender arms and delicate hands to the trim waist, large
hips, and shapely legs, he had never actually seen that image from within.
He still carried a mental image of how he had looked before he stepped into
the chamber and knew that it was going to take a lot of staring into the
mirror before he could let that image go. He also decided at that point that
he needed to now start thinking of himself as a she; "he," he reasoned, was
not the proper mental image to go along with the vision he saw reflected in
the mirror.
As Jackson continued to turn in front of the mirror, admiring her new
form, the door to the medical bay opened. "Jackson," a voice called out,
"are you in here? I've been looking all over for . . . ."
Braxley stepped into the bay and saw the beautiful naked woman admiring
herself in the mirror. He stopped his speech in mid-sentence and stared at
the young woman. "Who are . . ." he began, then looked more closely at the
woman's face. "Jackson?" he asked, the pitch of his voice rising in surprise
and shock.
"Yes," she replied. "It's me. I've . . . uh . . . changed."
"I can see that," Braxley replied. "But why?"
"It is our job to see that the human race survives. And to do that, we
needed a woman." She walked over to Braxley and took his hand lovingly in
hers. "We are going to have to start things over again." She lifted herself
on her tiptoes and kissed him with all the passion she could muster. It
surprised her at just how easy it was to do so.
"But, Ben, why . . ." Braxley began.
"Shhhhh," she said as she placed a finger lightly to his lips. "I'm not
'Ben' any more, Adam," she said with a sultry smile. "I think I'm going to
go by 'Eve' now." She kissed him again, more passionately than before, and
hugged him close, rubbing her breasts against him. She felt near-electric
shocks travel from her breasts all through her body and, pulling back
slightly from Braxley, realized that her nipples were now large, swollen, and
quite erect. And they felt marvelous!
She took a quick look at Braxley's crotch and was surprised and hurt that
she didn't see a bulge there. She knew that, were she a man and a stunning
woman rubbed herself all over him, she'd be practically ripping out of her
pants. "What's the matter, Adam?" she asked, her lower lip extending in a
cute and wanton pout. "Don't I excite you?"
"Not really, Eve," Braxley said. "I wish you'd talked with me before you
did this."
"Why? What's wrong?"
"Well . . . I'm gay."
~ Fin ~
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