The Pressing Engagement free porn video

NOTICE: This is a work of transgender fiction and bears no connection to anyone living or dead. It contains explicit sexual descriptions and should not be read by anyone under the age of 18. The Pressing Engagement By Erin Shoemaker, Jr. "Gentlemen and ladies, this is Agent Bob Reynolds," said the Director as the two of them entered the conference room. The group of six men and three women, seated at the large cherry-wood conference table looked up and acknowledged his entrance with nods of their heads or smiles or small waves. "Please sit down Bob," he said as he motioned toward a vacant chair next to his seat at the head of the table. Bob Reynolds had been with the Agency for about 10 years now, and had unswervingly refused promotion in order to remain a field operative. He could, and would, never want to find himself riding a desk for a living. In fact, he mostly despised many of the field Agents who had followed the traditional path of being promoted to the Agency's headquarters. But now he was ordered to leave his assignment in Vienna, and return for a special mission. All of his intra-agency contacts seemed to know nothing about the project, and so he was completely in the dark about the mission when he entered the room. As he sat, several of the members leaned into each other and talked quietly while occasionally looking back at him. This made him feel a little uncomfortable, but he eventually was able to overcome the feeling. The Director started in, "OK, let's begin. I have called you here today to discuss an item of international importance. Although I shouldn't need to, I will remind you that whatever is said in this room does not leave. This is highly classified, and if it were to leak out, well. . .. the consequences would be severe." He paused for a second to watch the recognition on their faces. "OK then. About six months ago, as some of you already know, a group calling themselves the Golden Dawn assaulted the USAMRIID laboratories in Frederick and stole a number of biological agents that are exceedingly lethal. Based on the amount taken, these bugs have the potential to wipe-out a medium- to large-sized city." With this, several members of the group gasped, others looked at their comrades with worried faces. "Now - three hours ago, we received this e- mail from them. . ." and the lights went out as a large screen dropped in front of the windows. "This message has been authenticated." The group turned in their chairs to see a photograph of an e-mail on the screen as the Director read aloud: Director: We are the Golden Dawn. We are an international group of terrorists. We do not seek to overthrow any government or monarchy. Our goal is simply to make crime profitable. As you know, we have in our possession certain biological agents that can kill tens of thousands. We will return these agents to you for a payment of $500,000,000 American dollars. Failure to meet our demands will result in a biological attack on a major city in the United States. You have 96 hours to discuss our proposition. We will contact you then for your answer. We advise you to pay. The lights came back on as the screen retracted into the ceiling. The group was busy chattering to each other as the Director continued, "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a serious crisis on our hands." He sat down and looked at the group, then lifted his arms and hands to signal he wanted input. "What do we know about the Golden Dawn?" asked one of the agents. "Not much," replied Agent Rhonda Smith. "They are a relatively new group, having come on the scene about 2 years ago with the simultaneous robbing of six banks in London all on the same day," and the group nodded in recognition. "They have rapidly become a highly organized and funded criminal organization like nothing ever seen before. They make the Mafia look like pikers." Another asked, "Well, where are they based? Do we have any intel on their members?" She returned the answer, "They appear to be truly international, with no central base of operations. Instead, they apparently have established organizations in most first- and second-world countries. Each of these is headed by a "leader," and she made little quote marks in the air, "who has control over that country's affairs." She continued, "As to their members, we have almost no clue. They are very secretive, and every time we get an agent close to them, they wind- up dead." There were more grumbles from the group as attention again turned toward the Director. "Very well," he said, "People, we need to drop all other intelligence activities immediately and focus on this. We will need at least 24 hours to pull the money together that gives us about 70 hours to come up with something. Each of you is to go back to your Division, call your best people in on this, and report back to me tomorrow morning with options. Do you understand? If we can't stop them within this time, we will have no other choice but to pay them." Everyone nodded in the affirmation of their marching orders, as the group rose from their chairs and shuffled off through the door. "Agents Reynolds and Smith, remain behind for a moment please," said the Director as he leaned over the intercom and pressed the large red button on it. "Yes?" came the feminine reply on the other end. "Dr. Barabas, we're ready for you. Would you please join us in Conference Room 3?" and he clicked off the intercom before she could answer. "Please sit back down," he said as he motioned to the two remaining members. They waited in awkward silence for a few minutes, and finally the Director chimed-in, "Bob, you grew up in Las Vegas, correct?" "Yes sir," he replied. "Well, we may be asking you to take on an assignment like none other. We withheld some information from the larger group on purpose so as not to allow any leaks about this mission," and as he spoke, Dr. Eugenie Barabas, a lab-coated, bespeckled little dark-haired woman, entered and took a seat next to Agent Smith. The Director continued, "We have high reliability data that the cell of the Golden Dawn responsible for this outrage is indeed the Las Vegas cell, and that they have sequestered the bio materials somewhere in southern Nevada. Their likely target will be Las Vegas. Further, we have identified the local cell's leader as David Jennings, the prominent casino owner and Vegas personality. However, we cannot simply rush in and take him out, for that would only lead to the release of the bio- weapon or weapons immediately. We need to get someone on the inside with Jennings and find out where they are storing the weapons before we can move. Because of your familiarity with the terrain around Las Vegas, I have chosen you to complete this mission." "Thank you sir," he replied, "I'll do my best as always." "Not so fast," the Director retorted. "There's more to this than you think. We will need to place you in a position so close to Jennings that he will completely trust you. Someone so close to him that he would never suspect they were a double agent." With this, Reynolds looked up with some hesitation. "What would that be sir?" he asked. The Director leaned over to him and said flatly, "His wife." "Are you saying that I should somehow seduce his wife and pump her for information?" asked the confused agent. "That's gonna be difficult given the small amount of time we have." The two women and the Director looked at each other, and Agent Smith replied, "Not exactly. We want you to become his wife and pump him directly for information." They sat back to see his reaction, as the doctor slid a photograph across of the table of a stunningly beautiful woman dressed in a full-length evening gown. It was a posed shot - looking much like a publicity photo or modeling portfolio picture. "Yeah right," Reynolds said as he dropped his head and shook it from side to side. Not receiving the answer that he expected, he looked up to see all three still staring back at him with serious looks on their faces. "But how could I possibly become his wife?" he asked. "First of all, in case you haven't noticed, I'm a man. Second, I don't look anything like her. Now, I've occasionally used female disguises and bodysuits to get out of tricky situations, but this is just way beyond anything like that. Why doesn't one of you do it instead? Seems more natural to me?" he said as he motioned toward the two women. "Bob," said the Director, "we don't have time to give them a geography lesson on southern Nevada. These agents could be hidden anywhere within a 100-mile radius of the city. You're the only agent on active duty that has any personal knowledge of the area. We need you." "You must be out of your cotton-picking minds," was his response. They sat for a few seconds in silence, and the Director starting in, "Dr. Barabas here has created a procedure which would allow you to pass completely as Melissa Jennings. You would look and sound exactly like her. There is no way he would ever be able to tell you apart, unless you did something behaviorally to give yourself away." Reynolds sat stunned. 'Surely they must be joking. They couldn't be serious,' he thought. But the continued gaze from his colleagues indicated otherwise. 'Now Bob," the Director said, "There is some risk involved. This procedure has never been tried before on a person. She has had great success with animals, but there is always a risk. We feel however that the science is sound, and the risk in minimal. But. . .. because of this risk, I would prefer not to order you to take this assignment. I would prefer if I could say that you volunteer. I would remind you that the consequences for failure could be catastrophic for your country." The three of them continued to stare at him, and he could feel their anticipation of his answer. He rose from his chair, and walked slowly over to gaze outside the window. He turned back around and asked, "Now, I would be changed back when it's over, right?" "Of course," replied the Director, as the two women turned and looked into each other's face. Reynolds turned back around and stared at the traffic below. He stood mulling it over in his head for a few minutes. The Director was absolutely right. If he failed, tens or hundreds of thousands of people could die horrible deaths. He could never live with himself knowing that when the hour had arrived, he had turned away from his duty. Then he turned slowly around and said, "Yes sir, I'm your girl." "Excellent," said the Director as they all rose from their chairs. "I will leave you in the capable hands of Dr. Barabas and Agent Smith then. Good luck Bob," and he quickly left the room. "Shall we begin then?" asked the doctor. "Do you have any personal issues or items you need attending to before we start the procedure?" asked Rhonda Smith. "Well, my rent is due. Could you arrange for the Agency to take care of it?" he said with a smile. "Of course. . .." she replied with a large but sly grin. And the little group exited the room to disappear into the catacombs of the Agency's halls. * * * * * * "OK strip!" came the order from the doctor. "You mean now?" asked Reynolds "Of course - get undressed - everything - no watches or rings - you must be completely naked," she demanded. He was accustomed to being naked in front of women. He would often be called upon to extract information from them using sex as a weapon. However, the sight of Agent Smith standing across the large lab room next to the door was a bit uncomforting, and he could feel himself a little on edge. She was staring at him, rubbing her chin. He could see her eyes were not looking at his face, but parts further south. The doctor wheeled an odd looking gurney to the center of the room, underneath the large surgical lamps above. On top of the gurney was a large block of what looked like aluminum. The doctor called to Smith to assist her, and the two connected some overhead cables to two eyebolts on either end of the block. The doctor then returned to an electronic panel that was on a smaller cart. She threw a couple of switches, and several small green lights glowed brightly on the panel, then another switch, and with the whir of small motors, half the block was lifted up from the gurney. Reynolds watched as the monolith rose to reveal a mold inside. The aluminum was in the shape of a human female. "Oh shit!" he said as he suddenly realized what was going to happen. "Come here!" the doctor ordered again. He continued to gaze at the mold as he slowly walked over to her. Then, while still looking back at it, he suddenly felt the sting of a needle being inserted into his arm. Alarmed, he turned back and said, "What the fuck?" "Relax big boy," she said, "Here is what's going to happen. . .." And she started in telling him of the procedure. "We have developed a serum that allows the tissues of the human body to become pliable and moldable. With the proper set-up and preparation, we can now make anyone look and sound exactly like anyone else, right down to their moles and freckles. For the past two weeks, we have been compiling data on Melissa Jennings, and I must say, we probably know more about her that she does herself. Based on these data, we have created a perfect mold of her. This even includes some, but not all, of her internal anatomy. For instance, we have data on the structure of her voice box, jaw structure, and her pelvic and pectoral girdles. What I have just injected you with is a combination of drugs. This will relax you, remove all unnecessary hair and deactivate your male hair hormones and hair follicles, and make you free from pain. But more importantly for our purposes, it will soon invade every cell in your body, allowing them to be reshaped into whatever we wish. In this case, we wish it to be Melissa Jennings. You should already begin to feel some of the effects." "We are going to put you into that mold, and press you until you have become an exact copy of Jennings' wife. This will take about ten minutes. After which, the drug begins to break down in you system, and your tissues will revert to stability. Before this happens however, we will implant in you some of the last minute items to make the masquerade final, such as hair." He stood gasping at what he was hearing. "But what about my privates?" he asked. "It's all in the mold dear," she said. "As you become transformed, special retractors and sub-moldings will, shall we say, "fix" you. Your penis will be converted into a clitoris, while your testicles will be pushed inside your abdominal cavity, forming a vagina as they do. Even a gynecologist could not tell the difference. Now quickly, up onto the table," she ordered, "We must get busy before the serum wears off." He was indeed beginning to feel the effects of the drugs, and was becoming dizzy. And so the two women assisted him in climbing into the mold. They had a little trouble getting his six-foot frame into the five-foot, five inch mold. The doctor then reached down toward his groin, and pulled a small metal rod with a hoop on its end out of the mold's wall and attached it around his penis. Two additional semi- circular supports were extended from each side of the mold and were gently clamped to his hip bones. Then she hurriedly adjusted his body here and there to make sure he was seated correctly in the mold. He was getting very faint before he felt her place a metal appliance into his mouth. He began to choke, and she said, "Now now - don't worry, it will soon be over." She returned to her little stand and flipped the switch again and the upper half of the mold began to lower toward him. She stopped it about ten inches from his face, walked over and attached the other end of the oral device into the upper mold. She motioned for Smith to join her, as she pushed gently on the skin of his face with two fingers. Pulling her hand away, they saw two small depressions where her fingers had been. "Incredible," said Smith. The doctor returned to her panel and lowered the mold the rest of the way. It fit perfectly as she again threw switches and turned a couple of knobs. A soft whirring sound emitted from the mold as she did. The last thing he remembered was the blackness of the closing of the mold and the beginning of an intense pressure. "Now we wait," she said turning to a stupefied Agent Smith. In about eight minutes, an egg timer sounded somewhere, and the mold began to rise. The doctor and Agent Smith rushed over to see what lay within. They both gasped as they beheld the smooth and sensuous body that was before them. Agent Robert Reynolds was reborn as Melissa Jennings - his firm breasts stood up topped above with perfect nipples, his broad flat stomach curved away smoothly to his narrow waist and broad hips, and where his penis had been, perfectly formed female genitalia were found. They stood in awe at the perfection before them. Then suddenly, the doctor rushed over the side of the room to bring back another gurney. "Quickly," she said, "We must get him onto the gurney and finish the final touches before he becomes hard again." And the two women grunted and pulled until he was lying on the gurney next to the mold. Again the doctor rushed away only to return with a wig of long blond hair. "Help me," she ordered, and Agent Smith raised his head as the doctor fitted the wig to his head. Taking a little extra tissue, she press it up over the wig's rim to insure that, one hardened, the wig could not be removed. Next, she carefully applied a triangular patch of pubic hair to his now bare and smooth front and pressed it deep into the rubbery flesh until it looked to be part of his new body. Finally, she removed a pair of bright blue contact lenses, and inserted them into his eyes. Then she stepped back to look at her work. She crossed her arms and smiled in satisfaction as the exact image of Melissa Jennings lay before them. She was stunning. Agent Smith stared in awe, but soon had to walk over a sit down on the chair next to the door. "Christ!" she said, "That's incredible. He looks exactly like her." As she watched, the doctor returned to her panel, picked up another syringe, and walked back to him. She injected the drug directly into his jugular vein. As she did, he began to spasm, and shake. Agent Smith rose and rushed to his side as he continued to shake. She reached down and held his legs to keep them from falling off the gurney, and within a few seconds, the spasms ceased. "What was that all about?" she asked the doctor. "Oh, just a normal reaction to the vitamin shot. The process uses up most of the lipid-based vitamins in the body, so we need to replenish them quickly before he dies." They continued to watch him, and in about three minutes, Smith noticed that his fingers were beginning to move. As this occurred, the doctor touched his flesh in several places, pushing and prodding, but the flesh stayed solid. "Good," said the doctor, "the serum is already wearing off. He, or should I say, she, is solid now and the changes are permanent. Slowly, Bob Reynolds began to come back to consciousness. His vision seemed blurred, and his motor skills were uncoordinated as he tried to raise his hand to feel his head. As he did, he saw with shock that his hand was no longer "his" hand, but had become a slender, feminine appendage, with long slender fingers and longer fingernails. He turned his hand in front of his eyes to make sure he was actually seeing it. Then he reached up to feel his face. It felt different - smoother, thinner, higher cheekbones, narrower jaw. And then he felt the hair. He grabbed a tussle of it, and pulled it around in front of his face to see the long straight blond hair that was now apart of him. He tried to sit up, but couldn't. The doctor and Agent Smith held him down while she said, "Take it easy big boy. Get your head straight before you try to get up. How are you feeling?" After a couple of attempts to speak, he finally managed to get out, "I guess I feel OK. . .." but severe shock again struck him as what he heard was not the voice within this head. It was the soft and melodious voice of a female. He instinctively grabbed his throat, and said, "What the hell?" "Now now," said the doctor, "That's no way for a young woman to speak. Be nice. Come let's see if we can get you up now," and the two of them assisted Bob in swinging his legs over the edge of the gurney and sitting upright. As they did, he felt the pressure of his new breasts pulling on his chest. He gasped and cried as he looked down to see his long blond hair cascading over the two perfect mounds rising from him. He brushed away his hair to see the smooth flat stomach beyond and delta of pubic hair between his legs. He reached up and cupped his breasts and squeezed them lightly. Then he gave the nipples a little twist, which sent a mild shock through his whole system. He just couldn't believe was he was seeing. His hand quickly ran down to feel his now smooth crotch, and as he probed below its edge, recoiled as he realized his penis was gone and he had, in its place, a vagina. "Come," said the doctor as the two women helped him to his feet. They steadied him as he regained his balance. "Rhonda," she said, "bring the mirror over and let's show Mr. Reynolds his new disguise." She walked to the side of the room and pushed a full length mirror over to them. He turned to look at himself and just about passed out again. The doctor grabbed him in just enough time to prevent him from falling. There standing in front of him was Melissa Jennings, an incredibly beautiful, young woman with long blond hair and blue eyes. He began to feel aroused, but could not feel the familiar pressure of a hardening penis. Instead he began to feel an internal pressure - one he was not familiar with. He moved closer to the mirror, bringing his face directly up to it while rubbing his cheeks and pulling at his eyes. He then backed off to take it all in. He again cupped his breasts, but then continued to rub his sides and hips. As his hands slid around to the small of his back, he turned to see his derriere - it was perfect, rounded and heart-shaped. He squeezed his cheeks and thrust his pelvis forward. He smiled as he admired his new body. He turned again to rub the front of his legs to feel their smoothness and softness. "My god!" he said in his new voice, "I'm fucking beautiful!" Finally the doctor said, "All right, enough of this. You will have plenty of time to explore later, Agent Reynolds. Right now, we need to get you into shape." She reached underneath her cart and withdrew his clothes. "Sorry I forgot about the clothes. You'll have to wear these until Smith here can get you something else to wear." So as he slipped on his old clothes, now several times too large for his smaller frame, the doctor said, "Now come over here and sit down." as she motioned to a chair at the side of the room. He obeyed and sat, while she again brought forward her little cart. Reaching into the lower cabinet again, she produced a helmet that looked similar to a pilot's helmet. "OK now, here is when you learn to actually become Melissa Jennings. This program, along with the associated chemical stimulus, will engrain in your brain the important information about her that you need to pass yourself off as her. You will learn the memories of relative's names, life history events, and even her likes, dislikes, and strong emotions. Once programmed, while you will still be Agent Reynolds, you will also have the ability to be her, remembering most of what she remembers, and reacting in predictable ways to stimuli. OK now, put this on your head." He took the helmet in his new slender fingers and carefully fitted it over this head. "Pull the visor down," said the doctor, and he complied. The doctor then plugged a wire from the helmet into the back of her control panel. "Now this may hurt a bit, but within a few seconds, you will have her knowledge." She threw a switch on the panel, and a soft hum could be heard coming from it. Suddenly, he began to jerk back and forth, while bright lights flashed into his eyes from the visor. He screamed out loud in his new female voice. Smith could hear loud sounds emanating from the helmet as she reached forward to hold him down. The doctor did the same. Then after about ten seconds, it all stopped. The doctor removed the helmet, and looked down on him. He shook his head, feeling the long trusses of hair as he did, then looked up at her and said, "Whoa, what a rush! Go ahead, ask me anything." The doctor assumed that the program succeeded, and briskly turned away to replace the helmet below on the cart. "OK now, one more vitamin shot," she said and promptly produced another syringe which she unhesitatingly shoved into his neck. He again began to shake and spasm as the drugs coursed into his system. After about a minute, they subsided and the doctor said, "There. My work is done here. He is all yours now, Smith. Go and teach him how to be a woman." And she laughed wildly as she left the room in a hurry. * * * * * * Although his clothes were familiar to him, he felt really stupid and awkward wearing them. Fortunately, Agent Smith managed to get him out of the building and into her car with a minimum of on-lookers. Now, as he was climbing the stairway to Smith apartment, he kept tripping on the too long trousers, and the shoes seemed to rattle around on his feet. Finally they got to the door. Smith opened it and they went inside. It was a small affair, consisting of a single large room which also had the kitchen against one wall, a bedroom, and bathroom. "Come in and sit down," she said to him, "I bet you could use a drink, yes?" "That sounds wonderful," he said in his new voice. "What do you have?" "Well, I've got some Barbados rum, beer, or wine," she replied. "Oh rum sounds groovy," he said - 'Groovy? Where did I get that word? I haven't said that word for decades,' he thought to himself. "No wait - make it wine," he suddenly said. What made him say that? He really didn't even like wine that much - not enough bang for the buck he had always thought. "Wine it is," said Smith and she opened the little refrigerator and took out a bottle, poured two glasses, and sat down next to him on the couch. "Here ya go," she said as she handed him the glass. "I want to thank you, Agent Smith, for helping me through this. But I'm not sure where we go from here." He gazed at her lovely face, framed by her shoulder-length brown hair. 'God she really is beautiful,' he said to himself as he stared into her eyes. "Please call me Rhonda," she said with a smile and took a sip from her glass. "Now we have to make you act like a woman. Ya know, do all the everyday little things that we do and make it look convincing. For instance and this may seem like a silly question, but have you ever put on make-up?" "Not lately," he said as they laughed together. "Well that's just the start. We also need to show you how to walk, how to talk like a woman, and how to react to men. This promises to be an eye-opening experience for you. But think how many men have fantasized about becoming a woman? I mean, haven't you ever wondered how it feels?" "Not really, no," he said, "but now that you mention it, it does sound rather erotic. Maybe this could be fun." Rhonda giggled, but quickly straightened up and said, "Remember Agent Reynolds, this is a serious assignment, and we don't have much time." And the two of them suddenly remembered why they were put together in the first place. "Right!" he said, "where do we begin?" "Let's start with clothes. You can't make a convincing wife if you are wearing a frumpy old suit like that. Let's get you into some feminine attire. Come on," and she took him by the hand and led him into the bedroom. "Maybe we should get you cleaned-up a bit first. Why don't you take off your old manly clothes, and take a hot bath?" "That sounds wonderful," he said excitedly, but suddenly realized that he hated to take baths - he was a shower kind of guy. What the hell did they do to me? Rhonda entered the bathroom, and he could hear her turn on the tub's tap. She returned to find him stripping himself. She watched, and as he did, she became aware that she was becoming aroused by the beautiful woman in front of her. 'God I wish I had tits like that,' she said to herself. She approached him, and gently took his hand and began to lead him to the tub. "Listen," she said, "I'm gonna start calling you Melissa, OK? You need to get used to it. Just think of it this way - Agent Reynolds is no more, and you are Melissa Jennings, wife to Las Vegas big-shot, David Jennings. The quicker you get this into your head, the better. So - Melissa, come with me." "Now get in the tub, and I will help you," she said. "Help me what?" he said in alarm. "Help you learn my dear," she said laughingly. As he slipped into the warm water, he felt it caress his new body in ways that only a woman could understand. It was like he was slipping his whole body into a warm mink glove, encasing him in luxurious heat. He lay down and almost instinctively began to message his breasts. As he did, he became aware of the pressure deep within him again. His shoulders rolled in as he cooed to himself, becoming flooded with strange emotion. 'Now," said Rhonda, "here we go. . ." and she poured some clear red liquid into the tub. "Swish that around," she said, and he complied. The smell was overpowering. His nostrils were flooded by the haunting aroma of cherry blossom. And without thinking about it, he responded, "Oh I really prefer jasmine" What? Where did that come from? "So you really do have the memories of Melissa. Wow! Tell me what else you remember?" she asked. He lay back in the tub, drinking in the sensual experience, and began to rub himself all over with the large sponge that was on the side of the tub. "Let's see. . ." and he closed his eyes. "I remember my parents and my sister, and growing up in Arkansas. I remember high school and my first kiss. His name was Johnny Whitcome, and he was dreamy. I remember my wedding to David, and how happy he made me feel when I lost my virginity on our honeymoon in Hawaii. I really do love him you know?" With this, Smith sat up in alarm. "My god girl, you got it all don't you! Listen - you need to ke terrorist agent under deep cover to prevent our country from being attacked." And with this, he sat up in the tub, and was shaken from the dream he was in. But something inside him wanted it to continue. He felt safe there - he felt wanted there - he felt feminine there. "Come on - now rinse off - we've got work to do" said Rhonda as she threw a towel on the floor next to the tub. The rest of the day was spent trying on various clothes, practicing walking and talking, and how to apply make-up and do his hair. It seemed that each time he tried on a different outfit, he became more and more excited about the process. Then as evening drew on, Rhonda suddenly discovered that she was hungry. "Let's go out," she suggested. He was shocked, but excited at the same time. "I don't know," he said. "I mean do you think I can pass?" "Honey, if half the girls looked as good as you, you wouldn't be able to find a table anywhere. Now, here, put this on and let's go," she commanded as she handed him, what looked like, a red push-up bra and panties, a pair of black pantyhose, and a very small looking bright red dress. She then went to the closet, studied the shoes for a minute, and returned with a set of classic red high heels. "You'll be a knock-out. Now get moving, I'm starving." "OK, OK," he replied and stripped again for the umpteenth time that day and slipped into the wardrobe he had been presented with. "Now, let's do your face. . ." said Rhonda and motioned for him to sit at the vanity. With her help, he now did his own make-up, applying base and highlights, eye liner and mascara, eye shadow, and finally lipstick and liner. As they progressed, his face became more and more feminine, until finally, he cried out, "Hot damn! I'm hot! Let's go." However the heels presented some problems. He almost fell twice going down the stairs, but eventually got the hang of it. As he walked out onto the street, a car whizzed by and a young man inside gave a hearty cat call. Bob felt angry and embarrassed, but then, cooled off as he remembered the feeling a man gets when looking at a beautiful girl - especially one as beautiful as him. They drove to the closest TGIF, which was quite busy. So they decided to wait in the bar. They took up residence on a couple of bar stools, but he felt confined by the tight red dress and he could not spread his legs apart as he was used to. "No no." said Rhonda, "you have to cross your legs to sit comfortably. Besides it drives the guys crazy." And they started to giggle. 'Wait - why am I giggling?' he thought. As he looked around, he could see many of the men looking at him, smiling, nodding. . .. One even rolled his tongue out of his mouth and using it, motioned for him to join him. He was at once, repulsed but fascinated by his emotions. "Is it always like this?" he asked her. "Pretty much, when it's busy like this," she answered. "It's nicer when the crowd is smaller and you can actually cut through all the wankers," and they giggled again. Soon they had a table, and had a nice dinner together. As they ate, she continued to explain the ageless dance that occurs between men and women, at least from the woman's point of view. He listened carefully, but the more she talked, the more he felt he already knew all this stuff. At one point, a young man came over, introduced himself, and asked if he could join them. They refused him, and as he slinked off, he felt sorry for him, and wanted to call him back. "Ah ah - no no," said Rhonda. "Tomorrow you leave for Vegas, and we need to get some sleep." And so they finished their dinner, and began to leave. Suddenly, a man walked up and asked, "Melissa? Melissa Jennings?" The two women spun around toward him, and he answered, "Yes?" "Melissa, well I'll be damned. What are you doing here?" and she looked at him with vacant eyes. "I though you were in Vegas with David. . ." "Oh, I just came in to visit my old friend Freda her. Freda this is. . .." and he hesitated. Rhonda's hand was already in her bag fingering her little gun. "Tom, Tom Ash - don't you remember me from the New Year's eve party at your place? "Oh of course," he answered, "Tom. How stupid of me, I'm sorry," he said as his thin fingers gently rubbed his shoulder. "What are you doing here?" he asked the stranger. "Well I'm in town doing some lobbying for the gaming commission. Boring stuff, but it has to be done." "If you're too bored, why don't you come along with me and Freda. She is new here in town too, and could use some companionship." "Well boy howdy," he said excitedly. "Let me pay off my bill and I'll meet you outside." He walked back to his table while the two women walked out the front. "Are you crazy?" asked Rhonda. "We have to kill him," stated Bob in a very serious tone. "If it ever got back that Melissa was here, that would blow the entire operation. Give me your gun," he commanded. "Now listen, let's get him alone, and I'll take care of it. Lure him into an alley or something. Rhonda was stunned. How could this lovely young creature suddenly turn so violently sociopathic? "Man, you are one hell of an agent," she said with a shake of her head. Just then Tom walked out, and they agreed to walk the short distance back to her flat. As they walked down the street, the two women each took one of his arms. He inquired about how David was, and she bluffed as best she could. Then, about a block from the restaurant, Rhonda suddenly stopped, turned to face him, and planted one hellava kiss on him - full on the mouth. Reynolds was shocked, but understood. "Come with me," Rhonda told him, as they pulled him into the alley. A short distance into the alley, they stopped and Rhonda began to message his penis through his trousers, while Bob fell back and around the side. As Tom Ash was enjoying his unexpected rubdown, Reynolds slowly raised the gun to the side of his head, and fired. Instantly, his head flew in the opposite direction as a mass of blood and brains and bone flew out the other side. He crumpled onto the ground as blood poured from the two large holes in his head out onto the wet pavement. The women quickly walked back onto the street, looked around, and walked back to their car at the restaurant. * * * * * * Back at her flat, they entered and both gave a very large sigh of relief. "That was close," said Rhonda. "Yeah, I didn't want to do that. He was so handsome, but duty called," replied agent Reynolds. Smith was again marveled at his professionalism, and found herself attracted by his aggressiveness. "We better get some sleep," his hostess recommended. "I'm afraid we'll have to share a bed. The couch is terrible for sleeping on," and she disappeared into the bedroom. The thought of spending the night next to the pretty agent immediately sent sparks flying through his new body. 'Wait,' he thought. 'I can't have sex with her anymore. I'm a girl now. Geesh! This really sucks.' "Here, try this on," said Rhonda as she returned and flung small pink camisole top and matching panties to him. He caught them and began to strip off the knock-em-dead evening wear. Once again, he found himself standing naked in front of her, but didn't feel particularly uncomfortable anymore. She watched him as he took off the hose - expertly rolling the dark fabric down his shapely legs. "Man, if I were a lesbian. . .." said Rhonda with a shake of her head as she turned and went back into the bedroom. 'Well maybe. . ..' she thought to herself on the way. He took off his undergarments and slipped the tight little top over himself as his new breasts and nipples stood to attention. He stepped out of the old panties, and slipped on the matching pink ones. As he did, he began to realize how special it felt - how smooth and soft the fabric was on his soft skin. As he pulled them high between his legs and over his ass, he felt himself drifting away again to that place he felt when he was in the tub. "C'mon!" yelled Rhonda, and he returned to the land of the living, turned out the light, and went to bed. As they lay side by side, Rhonda gave a little laugh and said, "Now aren't you curious about how the equipment works?" "Well, it's not rocket science," he replied. "I think I pretty much have it figured out." But as he said this, Rhonda moved her hand over to his thigh and began to rub it softly. At first he jerked away a little, but then quickly realized that the pressure within was building again, and he liked the way it felt. She continued to rub, little by little expanding her range until she had her hand flatly on his smooth stomach. She put her finger inside her navel and gave a little twirl, at which he jumped again. Then she turned and laid her arm across him while moaning softly. He continued to take in the feelings, and he could feel a burning and itching in his new nipples as they stood erect. She took his breast in her hand and began to message it gently, eventually reaching the nipple which she gave a little pinch. "Ouch," he said as he realized how sensitive they had become. Suddenly she brought her leg up over his, and pushed herself forward to kiss her gently on the cheek. He felt like his insides were going to burst. She continued to kiss his cheek, nuzzle his ear, and eventually drove her lips hard against his as she plunged her tongue deep within his mouth. He twisted to get away, but found he had no strength. He opened his eyes to look at her, only to see her closed eyes and the expression of bliss on her face. He surrendered to her, and moved his arm around her and began to kiss her back with some force. She moved her hand down his flat stomach and began to probe into the area of his new femininity. As she did, he again squirmed some, but quickly was taken away in the moment. Almost instinctively he opened his legs wide as her fingers probed between his lips to find his vagina. She began to message the outside to stimulate his new clit, which responded by oozing out, what would have been, pre-cum in his former life. She quickly utilized this to lubricate his vagina as she sent two fingers deep inside him. He groaned as she continued to move in and out of him, until finally he couldn't stand it anymore. With a loud scream, he arched his back upward and flung his legs wide open. As he did, a gush of milky fluid came rushing out his vagina and his whole body shivered and spasmed in response to his coming. Again and again he tensed and released as she continued to play him. Finally he said to her in his soft voice, "Stop, I can't take anymore." Rhonda ceased operations, and rolled onto her back. "Now it's your turn," she said with a large grin. "I thought we had to get up in the morning," he said with a girlish giggle. He took his new assignment seriously, and continued to reciprocate for at least an hour. They eventually drifted off to sleep in each other's arms. * * * * * * The flight to Las Vegas was unspectacular. A courier had woke them up early that morning, and delivered travel documents, identification papers for Melissa, as well as a small bag with miscellaneous clothes in it. They left soon thereafter and made their way to Quantico where the special military C-130 was waiting from them, engines already whirring. It was a little annoying to Reynolds that he now had to sit down to pee on the long flight, and even more so that he had to wipe when he did. But after a few times, he really didn't think much of it. Arriving at Nellis AFB in the early afternoon, they were quickly escorted to a waiting limousine, which drove them toward the city. "Does any of this look familiar?" asked Agent Smith to the new Melissa Jennings. "Of course, I live here," he said with a smile. Rhonda was a little taken aback by this, but was pleased that the memory implants were apparently still working. "Besides, I lived here before this life, remember?" he asked back. Smith only agreed with a grunt as they were shuffled toward northern Las Vegas. Eventually they turned off of at Charleston, and made their way west to Decatur. Turning north, they were almost out of town when the big car turned west onto a dirt road, and proceeded about a mile to a small, one-story building. The sign read, 'Live Western Apartments' in front, and the place consisted of two small buildings that looked like there were perhaps four apartments there. Tawdry and run-down, Reynolds was shocked - "Couldn't they have put us up in the Grand or something? This is pretty shabby." "Well, this is one of our safe houses. We'll wait here until we can determine the real Melissa Jennings' schedule and the whereabouts of David Jennings. You will also need a place to put on a disguise so that when we transport you for the exchange, you will not be recognized. So they entered one of the apartment doors. It was a small studio apartment, with a small kitchen area off to one side. A door led to an even smaller bathroom, and there was one bed and a couple of chairs. Reynolds and Smith began to work on his disguise which included a black wig, large dark glasses, and a hooded jogging top which could be drawn over the head. As long as he was only seen from a distance, it would work given the expected location of the switch. Soon, Agent Smith's cell phone rang, "Yes? Yes? We're all set then? Right, we're on our way." * * * * * * Melissa Jennings was just finishing her lunch in the kitchen of her expensive house. Her husband, David, was off at work at the casinos, and she was, once again, left alone. All this hush-hush stuff of the last few weeks was really beginning to bother her, and today she felt like she was being ignored. Although she knew exactly what he was up to lately, she had become alarmed at his more and more frequent absences in the last few days. She would, once or twice a week, drive into the casino and lunch with him, and usually finished it up with a small shopping spree. But today, he was gone again, and she sat at home eating alone. Only her bodyguard, Ron, sequestered at the little guard's house at the front gate, was there. As she ate her tuna sandwich and reading Glamour on the kitchen stool, she thought she heard a popping sound coming from outside. She stopped, when to the sliding glass door and peered outside. Nothing amiss - must have been her imagination. So she returned to her sandwich and magazine. She did not notice that the door leading into her dining room was slowly closing. In a few seconds, the other doorway from the kitchen to the foyer was similarly slowly closing without a sound. Then, imperceptivly, a quiet hissing could be heard coming from underneath the closed dining room door. It took a few minutes for her to even become aware of the sound, but eventually she turned and looked at the closed door. She rose, walked to it, pushed on it, but found that it had been blocked by something on the other side. She pushed again, and then again, but it still wouldn't budge. As she tried one more time, she noticed the end of a small tube extending into the room from under the door. "What the hell," she said as she dropped to her knees to inspect it. Suddenly, she realized that the hissing sound was coming from the tube, and gas was escaping into her face. She jumped to her feet and ran to the other door. It was also blocked and couldn't be opened, so she ran to the sliding glass door and threw off the lock. But before she could open it, a large man in a business suit and dark glasses stepped out in front of her, and prevented it from opening. She screamed and then tugged and tugged, but he was far too strong for her. "What are you doing?" she cried at him, but there was no response. She turned to again try the inside doors but it was too late. Her head began to get dizzy and the sudden onrush of the gas felt like an unstoppable freight train as her vision became less and less. * * * * * * Melissa Jennings came to only to discover that she was lying in her bed. As her perceptions cleared, she discovered that she could not move her body. She could blink her eyes, move her mouth, but was essentially paralyzed from the neck down. She began to call for help, and in a few seconds, Agent Smith entered the room, walked to her side and sat down on the bed. "Good afternoon Melissa," she said calmly. "I hope you're not too uncomfortable. This won't take long." "Who are you? What do you want? Goddamit, get out of my house!" she demanded. "Now now, be nice," said Smith. "If you cooperate with us, it will be better for you. We can make this hard or easy - it all depends on you." "Fuck you bitch!" she yelled at her. "Do you know who I am? Wait until my husband finds out about this. You'll be dead!" "Oh but that's the very idea," replied the agent. "We want your husband to find out about this. Only it won't be from you, it will be from the new you." and with that she called to the door, "Bob would you come in now?" The door opened slowly, and in walked the hooded and disguised Robert Reynolds. Melissa watched as he walked over to her and slowly reached up to pull back the hood. As he did, he pulled off the black wig at the same time, and there standing in front of her, was her exact double. She gasped and then realized what was about to happen. "Oh Goddamit, no you don't!" she screamed and began to sob out loud, as she tried to move but couldn't. "Ok then. I warned you," said Smith as she reached forward and tied a gag around her mouth. "Hurry! We don't have much time. We need to get out of here as fast as we can." With that, Reynolds began to strip off the rest of his clothes while Agent Smith stripped away those of their victim. Protesting, Melissa Jennings could only cry through the gag. The suddenly she stopped and froze as she looked up to see her own naked body standing before her. She could see her full breasts and slim waist, her ample hips, and even see the little beauty mark on her hip. It was a perfect copy, right down to the shape of her pubic hair. Again she tried to protest, but it was to no avail. Smith stripped off her tan tight-fitting slacks and white cotton blouse. Then she pulled off her red panties and undid her matching demi-bra. "Here!" said Smith to Bob Reynolds as she handed him her lingerie. She then proceeded to remove all of her jewelry including her wedding ring, watch, and ankle bracelet. Bob Reynolds took the undergarments and began to put them on. As he slid the panties up into place, he could still feel the warmth from Melissa Jennings' body on them, as well as the moisture in them. Next he slipped his arms through the bra's straps, and hooked it closed behind. He then took the jewelry and put it on. As he slipped the wedding ring over his finger, he began to feel something stir deep within him. It was kind of a feeling of longing, of wanting to suddenly be with David. 'What the hell,' he thought to himself as he shook it off. He stepped over to the full sized mirror hanging next to the door to the bathroom, and was shocked to see what was in front of him. Somehow, it was not the same as at the lab or at Rhonda's apartment. Seeing her in person and being there - in her room, in her house, wearing her clothes and being in contact with her actual moisture, was overpowering. Without even thinking about it, he hugged himself around the middle and cooed softly as he turned to examine his rear end. "Come on Bob. We've got to get out of here," said the agent. "You can play with yourself after we've left." And she turned back to Melissa, "I'm going to give you this one chance to cooperate with us. Tell me now if you have any last minute appointments or plans for the evening. . ." and she reached forward and pulled the gag down around her neck so she could talk. "Fuck you," she cried back at her. And with that, Agent Smith decked her with a right cross and replaced the gag. While she proceeded to dress the real Melissa Jennings in the wig and clothes that Reynolds had come in with, she called out to the crew, "OK boys, let's get this bimbo out of here." As she turned toward the door, she once again caught sight of Reynolds. This time, he was giggling and busily going through the contents of Melissa's dresser, pulling out panties and stockings and bras and tossing them onto the top of the dresser. "Hey doofus!" she cried at him, "Give us a hand here." "Oops, sorry," he said and turned to help her, just as the two other male agents walked into the room. They both stopped dead in their tracks and stared at Reynolds. He noticed the effect he had on them immediately, and said, "Come on boys, help us girls out." With this they more or less snapped out of it, walked to the bed, and began to lift Melissa up. As they did, she came to from the blow Smith had given her, and shook her head. "Wait!" cried Reynolds, "There's just one thing I have to do. . ." With this he moved to Melissa's head, removed her gag, and kissed her full on the lips. She fought it as best she could, but eventually, surrendered to his kiss. "I had to know how she kisses," he said to Smith, who had to admit, she was really getting turned on by seeing this. The other two agents watched in surprise, but really didn't react much. "OK," said Smith. "We're outta here. Remember, you must find the location of the biologics by morning, the day after tomorrow. You have had a transponder chip installed within your skin as part of the molding process, so we can keep tabs on your movements. Now, we capped the guard out there, so get on the phone to hubby and tell him there's been an assault. Remember, if you find out anything, call the local office and tell them you want to speak with Paul Rudiger - got it? Paul Rudiger - that is the code to transfer your call to me directly. And with that, she followed the agents out the door. Reynolds followed and escorted them to the front door. They loaded the real Melissa into the trunck of their black Crown Victoria, and drove off - down the drive, past the guard house. He slowly closed the door, and walked back to the bedroom to once again look at himself in the mirror in a strange kind of sexual awe and hypnotic state. He, now she, eventually sat down on the side of the bed, called the casino and asked for her husband. She did not have to look up the phone number - it was memorized in her head. After several operators, she got to him. "Mel? What's up? You know I don't like to be bothered at work. . ." he said. "Oh god David!" She cried into the phone. "I think something is wrong here. I heard some popping sounds, the gate is standing open, and I cannot get Ron on the phone there. I'm afraid," she pleaded. "Please come home right away. I think someone is trying to break into the house." "You're kidding right? Is this one of your jokes? Are you serious?" he asked. "Goddamit David, I'm serious. Please come home!" With this he could tell she was indeed serious, and said roughly, "Stay inside and lock the doors. I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Don't call the police. I'll take care of this myself," and he hung up. She hung up the phone and smiled, congratulating herself on her fine performance. So, soon she would meet him - the love of her life, and the focus of her world. As she sat thinking, she began to become aware of the feeling of vulnerability. She wanted him there to protect her, even though she knew it was all a ruse. She began to want to feel herself in his arms and have his strong limbs surround her and keep her safe. It was intoxicating. She quickly rose, and again began to rummage through her clothes and accessories. She picked up the slacks and blouse the real Melissa had been wearing, but decided she wanted to experiment a little. So she searched through her drawers to find a stunning bright yellow bikini. 'This will get him going,' she thought. She stood in front of the mirror and stripped off the red panties and bra. As she reached over to the dresser to retrieve the bikini, she turned to look as her ass in the mirror again. 'God I'm hot!' she thought. Turning back, she slipped up the bottom and pulled it high against her hip bones. Then it was the top. As she spun the top around after tying the back, she pulled up the upper straps to allow the cups to envelope, or partially envelope, her two soft mounds of flesh. Reaching up underneath her long blond hair, she tied the upper straps behind her neck, and slowly brought her hands down over her breasts as she watched herself in the mirror. She began to rub her breasts, and felt a tingle and longing as the sensations shot down her front and into her groin. "Ummmmm," she moaned as she continued to rub, and again felt the pressure building deep within her. "Not now," she said out loud as the Bob Reynolds part of her came back to the surface and began to search for a covering. She found it in the closet; a lacy chiffon cover that barely reached the tops of her legs. She then moved into the living room, and waited. It wasn't long before she heard his car pull up in front of the guard house and the door slam. After about 10 seconds, the door again slammed and the car peeled off up the driveway toward the house. It skidded up to the front, and a second later, the front door flew open. "Mel? Mel are you here?" he called with worry. "Yes, I'm in here. . ." she called back and stood up from the couch to turn toward him. He quickly entered the room, approached her and hugged her tightly, kissing her on top of her head. Pulling back and looking into her face, he said, 'Oh thank god. Are you all right?" "Yes, I'm OK but I was so scared. What's happened to Ron?" she asked as she could feel emotion building within her. "I'm afraid Ron has been killed honey," he replied while again holding her close. "What the hell happened here?" "Oh my god!" she cried, and then, "I don't know." She broke down began to sob as she laid her head on his chest. "I just heard the sound, and when I looked out the gate was open and I couldn't raise Ron. I was so scared I didn't know what to do." "It's alright now," he said in a comforting tone, "I'm home now and you're safe. Sit down and I'll be right back. I want to see why this happened." "No, don't leave me!" she cried as she threw her arms around his neck and brought her face into his. "It's OK now," said as he guided her back to the couch and helped her sit. He left the room and headed toward the kitchen. The new Melissa Jennings sat back into the couch and laughed to herself, 'perfect - he doesn't suspect a thing.' But at the same time, there was a real feeling of missing him and a real feeling of worrying about him, even though she knew no one was there. After about twenty minutes, he came back in and asked, "Did you see anyone out there?" and he motioned toward the back yard and pool area. I found some footprints that I don't recognize, but nothing else. Nothing seems to have been taken," and he looked at her in puzzlement. "No honey," she said innocently, "I was in the bedroom when I heard the sound, and then I hid in there until just before you got home." "Well it looks like whoever did this is gone now," he said and he sat next to her and put his arm around her neck. "I'm just glad you're OK," he said and leaned over and kissed her on the mouth. "Ummmmm," she signed and she put her arms around him and kissed back. She was swept away in the moment. She had become Melissa Jennings and his wife. She loved him and wanted nothing more than to be loved back by him. But just as she was losing herself again, he pulled back from her and said, "I covered Ron's body up, and I'll give Bruno a call and have him take care of it. I would just as soon not get the cops involved in this." And Bob Reynolds had returned. 'Damn right you don't you lying bastard," the agent thought to herself as Jennings rose and walked away to make the call. After about twenty minutes, she decided that enough of the hoop-la had gone away, and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a pair of sunglasses, and slinked out onto the patio next to the pool. She took off her cover exposing herself to the warm sunlight while laying down on a chaise lounge. She leaned back to soak in the sun as Jennings came up to her. "Maybe you should stay inside for a bit; just in case someone is still around," he said. She looked up into his face and said, "OK, maybe I'll take a soak in the tub," remembering her feelings from the night before in Rhonda's apartment. So she rose, took him by the hand, and they walked into the house and to the bedroom. 'OK,' she said to herself, 'Here we go. . . For God and country. Let's get him comfortable, then pump him for information,' and she turned and pulled her long hair forward over her shoulder while saying softly, "Undo me." He reached up and untied her neck straps first, and then the bottom ones. As he did, her top fell to the floor in front of her. She looked back at him over her shoulder with a wry smile. He was caught - all she had to do was reel him in. He instinctively reached forward under her arms and began to message her breasts. As he did, she once again began to feel the urge deep inside. She cooed, tiled her head back, and leaned it against his shoulder as he continued to rub her. Then, he focused his attention on her nipples as he gently spun them between his fingers. A sharp bolt shot through her, and a sudden realization that, 'Shit! I can really feel that. It's like they're my real breasts!" and as she did, she again began to become lost in that other person. She spun around quickly, wrapped her arms up around his neck, and kissed him hard while her tongue sunk deep into his mouth. He was taken a little by surprise, but quickly got into the spirit of things. She broke off the kiss, and looked up over her eyebrows at him, while her slender fingers began to unbutton his shirt. She smiled and then dropped to her knees in front of him. 'What the hell am I doing' came one voice in his head. "You're loving your man,' came the other voice, and as she reached up to undo his belt and pants, the conflict within her soon ended. As Reynolds, she knew she had to do anything, anything to prevent this terrorist from achieving his goal. But as Melissa Jennings, all she wanted was to love him, and please him. So the rational side of his now split personality gave into the female side and he surrendered his will to her. She pulled down his pants, and assisted him in pulling his legs out. As she again turned back to him, she pulled down his boxers and let them fall to his ankles. There in front of her was his massive penis, already rising to the occasion. She looked up into his face and then reached forward to take his organ in her hand and stroke it. Jennings moaned as he tilted his head back. 'Wait - wait. This is wrong,' Reynolds cried to himself, but it was too late. Bob Reynolds was going to have to sit this one out on the bench for this inning. Soon he had become rock hard and she knew what she had to do. Taking his penis, she slowly moved it into her mouth and began to move on it while sucking and humming aloud. She could tell he was going crazy but Melissa wanted something else. She now wanted him inside her. She wanted to feel the pumping and sliding, and the ultimate rush as he filled her with his semen. Abruptly, she stopped, stood and pushed him back down on the bed. He grinned widely as she bent over and stepped out of her bikini bottom. She turned to look at him, admiring his strong fit body. 'Wow,' she thought to herself. She moved next to the bed, and began to message his chest with her slender fingers and hands. Again he moaned and closed his eyes as her hands found his nipples and gave them a twitch. He jumped in reaction, but then sighed as he fell back to enjoy the moment. She stroked the sides of his abdomen, and eventually crawled up onto the bed and lay on top of him. She could feel her breasts squished against his as he took her mane of hair in his hand and guided her mouth to his. His penis was dancing around her thigh as they moved back and forth. But as they kissed more and more, she could feel the internal pressure building again. But this time, it was different somehow. It was not so much a pressure as she had felt the previous night, but now seemed to be more of a physical desire to feel him inside her. It was like she would not be complete without it. She desperately wanted to open herself wide to him, and surround him with herself; wrapping herself around him until he was completely absorbed by her body. Then she couldn't stand it anymore. She rose up, and raised her hips positioning them over his throbbing member. Slowly she lowered herself onto him, pausing only momentarily as his prick first entered her. Then down onto him she went. "Oh god!" she cried out loud as she began to move up and down on him. She was going out of her mind - it felt like she was actually wet inside and that she had a real vagina. "Oh god," she said again as she realized what was really happening to her, but could do nothing about it now. After a few minutes, he pulled her down and they switched positions. She instinctively spread her legs wide as he slipped his member deep into her. She could feel her juices all around her groin. He reached forward and clasped her breasts and messaged them as he fucked her. More and more - harder and harder. They were both sweating now, and running out of breath. She wrapped her legs up and around his ass as he continued to pump her. Her hands came up and interlocked over her head as she tossed it from side to side in ecstasy. Finally, she felt him begin to go rigid an