Stepford Meat Swap
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For Him free porn video
For Him
By Kyrie Hobson
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This work of erotic fiction is copyright 2009 by Kyrie Hobson. It is
distributed freely and may be freely used as long as it remains unedited
and in its original condition, including this notice, and is provided
free of any charges. All of the characters and situations are imaginary
and have no bearing on real life. If you are under the age of consent
in your state, or are just someone who is easily offended by explicit
sexual descriptions, you should probably stop reading now.
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There's nothing quite as good as sucking a cock. Especially when you
know you've got a guy right where you want him, and you can feel him
tense up for the final time. You back off just a little bit and finish
him with your hand, so he can see you waiting to catch his seed with
your open mouth. It twitches a little and the first few gobs miss and
spray on your face a little. It's messy, but you don't mind, because
that was the point: to let him see you wipe it off and into your mouth,
because that show of adoration will help him get ready again faster.
Then you clean him off with your tongue, and by the time you're
finished, he's ready again, and he pushes you back and holds you down
even though he doesn't have to. He plunges into you without resistance,
and suddenly your whole world s that full feeling between your legs and
your belly button. The feeling lasts forever, since you took the time
to make sure it would, and you suffer the exquisite agony of tiny, but
building orgasms, each one more intense and expanding than the one
before, until your mind explodes in a final release just as he shoots
his seed deep into your womb.
A year ago, that would not have been my opinion. Back then, I was Carl
Langdale, normal guy. I had an okay job, an okay apartment, and a
better-than-okay girlfriend who gave me an okay sex life. I know what
you're thinking. You think this is going to be one of those stories
about some douchebag who's got it pretty good, but wants his girlfriend
to give him ore blowjobs, so he tries to trick her with some stupid
scheme that backfires and turns him into a bimbo with nothing but cock
on his mind.
Well, you're only half right. Sure, I probably would have liked a few
more blowjobs (or any, for that matter) , but I never asked Lisa for a
blowjob at all, and certainly never even thought of bending her mind in
the way mine was bent. I mean, how can you call it love if the acts
aren't voluntary? What kind of love would break somebody's brain for
their own purposes?
I guess it all goes back to the night of the porno. I've never been
much into them, never really saw the point of watching plastic girls
pretend to enjoy being split apart by men with massive schlongs as long
as your arm and as thick as your ankle. But it was my birthday, and
Lisa wanted to watch one with me so she could get ideas for ways to
spice things up in bed. Neither one of us was particularly adventurous,
but we seemed to do okay. Lisa, however, always worried that I might
get bored. It was useless to tell her that any love, as long as it was
her love, was perfect.
Anyway, we were watching the movie. It starred an actress named
Devon...something. She was unusually pretty. Her breasts were
obviously enhanced, but that wasn't her main attraction. Her face was
almost unnaturally beautiful with a perfect button nose, full, luscious
lips, and giant blue eyes that were impossibly innocent (especially
considering her profession). She was playing a college girl who was on
vacation in the part of Hawaii that happened to look exactly like Los
Angeles, and she, and her friends kept getting into wacky situations
that all resulted in sex.
I was bored. The situations were all lame and contrived. There were,
however, a few moments of interest for my little soldier, especially
when Devon was giving one of her many blowjobs. She had a way of
looking up at her partner, while she was sucking him, that made him seem
the most important thing in her life. You got the feeling that all of
her hopes would be answered if he would only come in her mouth. It
caused a visceral reaction that was hard to hide, especially since I was
in my boxers with Lisa sitting right next to me.
She noticed my reaction and smiled. "Is that what you'd like, honey?"
I shrugged, not sure what her reaction would be. She got down on the
floor and knelt between my legs. She looked up at me lovingly, and
opened her eyes wide. Still holding my gaze, she reached into my boxers
and pulled out my cock. "Do you want me to suck your dick like she
does?" she asked. I nodded, hypnotized. She bent down, still looking
up at me, and stretched out her tongue. She stroked her tongue along
the length a couple of times. "Happy birthday, sweetie," she said,
lovingly. She tensed, gathering herself, and the spell was almost
broken. She licked the length again a few times, and gathered herself
again. This time she touched her lips to the tip before veering away to
lick along the sides. For the third time, I felt her gather her will,
she parted her lips a little, and kissed the tip again. It seemed she
would actually take it into her mouth for a moment, then she broke away,
crying.
"I can't do it," she said. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm so
sorry, baby."
I held her and stroked her shoulders. "It's okay. It's not that
important. Being with you has always been enough for me."
"I'll fix this," she said with conviction.
"There's nothing to fix," I answered, but she wasn't listening. Part of
her fix was to have me right then and there, and she was busily
stripping off her clothes, then mine, and leading me to bed. She
straddled me and settled down on my rod, looking me in the eye with that
same innocent look that Devon-something wore. Then she went to work.
She was trying too hard, and it was a little uncomfortable. I came
early, almost out of self-defense. After, we lay together in silence.
I worried that she might hold my reaction against me. Then I heard her
mutter, as if to herself, "I'll fix this."
She seemed chipper the next day, so I put the whole incident out of my
mind. It really wasn't that important to me. My thought at the time
was that, sure, the idea of a blowjob was fine, but when you got right
down to brass tacks, it was exactly like Woody Allen once said: every
orgasm I ever had was great.
That night, she tried again, and couldn't make herself do it. I had to
force her to take it easy while we made love, she wanted so much to make
it all about me. For the rest of the week, I used every trick in my
rather-thin book to distract her from her impossible quest. We made
love in the missionary position, doggy style, side to side. Twice I ate
her out until she was so tired from orgasms that she couldn't even talk,
let alone try to overcome her distaste for sucking cock. By the end of
the week, I thought we were past it. Boy was I wrong.
She came home late, Friday. I sort of expected this. She liked to shop
the Friday sales, especially when she was depressed. But this time,
instead of slinking into the bedroom to organize her purchases into
piles of "Keep" or "Donate", she burst through the door with a
triumphant yell. "Tonight, I'll fix it. I'll give you what you want,
what you deserve!"
"There's nothing to fix, honey," I responded. "It's not a big deal."
"It is a big deal," she answered. "But it won't be, because of these."
She pulled a small package out of her lone bag. It appeared to be one
of the hokey gift things, two tiny bottles and some straw shrink-wrapped
together in a miniature fruit crate. One of the bottles said "For Him,"
the other, "For Her."
"What are those?"
"Potions."
"Potions?"
"Yes. I got them at the magic shop at the mall."
"There's a magic shop at the mall?"
"Sure there is. The one with the funny old man in the bathrobe. You
remember, "Spells R Us" or something. Where the Crab Hut used to be."
I didn't remember, but she went to the mall a lot more than me. I
shrugged. "So what are these potions supposed to do?"
"They make you into your partner's perfect lover."
"Really?"
"Yes, but you don't need to worry. You're already my perfect lover. I
just bought them so I could fix my problem."
"You don't have a problem."
"You're so sweet."
"Anyway, if you want to do it, okay, but I'll take the other one. I'm
sure there are areas where I need improvement."
"No, you're perfect."
"Now who's being sweet?"
"I mean it, Carl."
"So do I." She smiled at me, and tore open the shrink-wrap. She took
the "For Him" bottle out and handed it to me. As she was taking the
"For Her" bottle out, a small slip of paper stuck to its bottom and
fluttered to the floor.
"What's that?" I asked.
"Who knows? Probably unnecessary safety instructions like you get with
toothpicks. It's not like this is rocket science. Your bottle is For
Him. My bottle is For Her. We drink it all, and we become each other's
perfect lover."
I'm one of those weirdoes who actually reads the instructions on a box
of toothpicks, and it seemed to me that it might be a good idea to know
what we were imbibing and what it might do to us. But I didn't want to
crush Lisa's new-found hope and conviction, so I followed her lead. I
pulled out the stopper in my bottle and drank it all the way down.
"Holy man that's vile!" I said. The drink had tasted like shampoo and
vinegar.
"No kidding," Lisa said. "The old guy said it would taste sweet, like
promises and happiness."
"Okay, now what?"
She pushed me toward the couch. "Now," she said, sitting me down and
kneeling between my legs, "we find out if I got my money's?" if she said
anything else, I never heard it over the sound of my own scream. I felt
as if my head was being torn apart and the pain just continued until I
passed out.
When I awoke, it was fully dark. I reached over to the end table and
turned on the lamp. There was a man on the floor, asleep. I reached up
to rub the sleep out of my eyes, and my arms encountered something they
didn't expect. I had breasts. I shook my head and my hair fell into my
face. I brushed it back with one hand, forgetting that I hadn't had
long hair since high school. I got up and ran to the hall. There was a
large mirror that had been in my grandmother's house, there. I
inspected the image and tried to convince myself that it was a dream. I
looked exactly like Lisa.
No, not exactly. The patrician curve of my nose was less pronounced
than Lisa's was, and my lips were fuller. And my eyes. My eyes were
large and dewy and filled with undeserved innocence. "Oh my god," I
said in Lisa's voice (but somehow less strident, and more alluring).
"Carl?" I heard my own voice coming from the living room.
"In here," I answered. A man who looked almost exactly like me (except
he was a few pounds trimmer and a few days at the gym more muscular, and
his jaw was more square) came lumbering down the hall as if he hadn't
quit got used to his own legs. I assumed it was Lisa. I hoped it was
Lisa. That would at least make the situation slightly less surreal.
She (he?) looked at me, then looked into the mirror, then looked at me
again. "What happened?"
I just stared at her and shook my head, not knowing. Then I thought of
something. "Wait, weren't there instructions?" I rushed back into the
living room and picked up the tiny slip of paper, still sitting on the
carpet.
"Congratulations, Carl and Lisa, on your purchase of For Him and Her
pleasure potion," I read aloud. "Please read and be sure you understand
these instructions perfectly before continuing. Don't drink the potion
if you are not absolutely sure you wish to do whatever is necessary to
make each other happy. If you are absolutely sure, the Carl should
drink the potion marked "For Her," because the changes that the potion
will bring are those that she secretly wants in a man. Lisa, you should
drink the potion marked, "For Him," for the same reason. Drink the
whole bottle. If you really mean for the changes to occur, it will
taste sweet, otherwise, it will taste bad. Either way, drinking the
bottle causes the changes to occur and they can't be undone. You could
sue me, but you'd have to find me first."
"That was a lot of writing for such a tiny piece of paper," Lisa
remarked.
"Yeah, it was weird. It kind of scrolled, like a computer screen."
"Well," she sighed. "What do we do now?"
I looked her up and down. "Well, you need to get out of that dress,"
she raised an eyebrow at me. "I make an absolutely ridiculous-look
transvestite, and I'm not sure that it isn't already ripping."
"Maybe we should trade," she said. I realized that my pants were
hanging?just?at the wide part of my hips, and my t-shirt hung loosely on
me like an open-necked camisole.
"Okay," I said, and pulled the shirt over my head. She was staring at
me. "We can't trade if you're still in the dress," I prompted. She
struggled it over her head while I slipped my pants off. My boxers went
with them. I looked over to see if she needed help, and I saw it.
Her?his?cock was hard, the head stretching above the elastic of her
panties.
I stepped out of my clothes toward her. I had never seen anything so
beautiful in my life. I got down on my knees to get a closer look.
Lisa had managed her way out of the dress and was watching me, the dress
balled in one hand. I looked up at her, knowing what she wanted and
promising that it would always be, and would always be for her. I
slowly, tentatively, reached out and peeled the panties away. It wasn't
large by any standard, maybe seven inches, but it was thick, thick
enough that I wondered if it would even fit inside me. I reached out
and touched it with a single finger. Lisa gasped.
"Wait," she said, and backing up to the couch, sat down. I followed
her, my gaze on the work of art at the top of her legs. I scootched in
between her thighs and wrapped my fingers lightly around the object of
my desire. I looked up at her again, my wide eyes promising a lifetime
of devotion. She looked down at me, her eyes kind and protective. I
licked the underside from bottom to top and she moaned heavily. licked
it again, slowly from bottom to top, and, this time, curved over and
took her into my mouth. My right hand stayed loosely wrapped around his
cock, stroking counterpoint to the dips and rises of my mouth. My left
hand wandered up and tickled his balls.
I stopped thinking of her as Lisa. Something inside me realized that he
was Carl, my perfect lover, just as I was his. I rolled my tongue
around on the flesh of his turgid member, drowned it in butterfly
kisses, lightly raked my nails across the skin. I did everything I
could do to make him as happy and satisfied as a man could be, and he
was. I could see in his eyes how much he loved me, how happy he was to
have me with him, doing this little thing for him that not so long ago
had not been very important, but was now the most important thing in the
world. It didn't take him long. He came, filling my mouth. Some of it
spilled, but I scooped it up and lapped it in.
Between gasps, as he settled down, he said, "That was...wow...I
understand why you wanted that so much."
"It really wasn't that important to me," I replied, looking away.
"It was important to me," he said. "It would have been a new way to
make you happy. Now I'll just have to be satisfied with this." He
leaned forward and held my shoulders, pushing me onto my back. I looked
down and saw that he was hard again, or had never gotten soft. Either
way, he was going to enter me, and make a woman of me.
A part of me realized that Lisa must have always wanted me to be more
decisive and less accepting. I would certainly have never presumed to
shove her down and take her like a wanton milkmaid, but I found that it
was exactly what I wanted him to do to me, and when we finished, coming
together in shared ecstasy, it was better than anything I had ever
known.
It wasn't all spectacular blowjobs and mind-blowing sex, of course. We
were suddenly each other, and the potions didn't magically rearrange the
world to make that easier. Lisa turned out to be a better programmer
than I had been, but I could never grasp the vagaries of accounting that
she had taken for granted. In the end, I quit her job before I got her
fired. I never really looked for another; I found I liked keeping a
home for Carl. Whether that was one of my wishes, or just the way Lisa
had been, or even an idiosyncrasy of my own, I don't know, but it's
worked out for us. We'll be married next month.
I bet you can guess what his honeymoon present will be.
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