Evelyn Blowing Snow Part 2
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Evelyn Auldwych free porn video
Evelyn Auldwych
By Adam Gardner
My girlfriend, as was, was a witch. A very silly witch, and not a very
powerful one, but single-minded with the only spell she had in her
hands. We weren't even going steady. I'd been out with her a few times,
we'd been to bed together, and I took her virginity. But I could see
that she would be hell to live with, because she was clingy and jealous,
and a bit of a Goth, so I dumped her. That was a mistake at the time,
but then I didn't know about witchcraft then.
Her name should have given it away, as after all, how many girls these
days are called Evelyn Auldwych? But, she was rather pretty and she had
a hot body - when she took off that long old-fashioned black dress
emblazoned with stars and new moons in silver and took off her wide-
brimmed, pointy, hat and shook out her hair. What I didn't know that
made her mad at me was that she was pregnant, and I was the one that did
the deed. I compounded my offence by going out with a girl from the
office on the same night I dumped Evelyn. A day later I got a text
asking me to see the Ms Auldwych, who was, she said, distraught. So I
turned up at her flat. I shouldn't have gone. I shouldn't have sat down.
I shouldn't have drunk the 'apple juice' - or was it cider? - and I
certainly shouldn't have bitten into the apple that she'd already had a
bite out of. Not if I wanted things to stay the same as they were, that
is.
The combination of the drink and the apple, or maybe just the one of
them, sort of paralysed me. Evelyn pranced around, and told me that I
was getting my just desserts for seducing her, and leaving her pregnant.
How would I like it done to me? Lord knows what happened next, because I
fell asleep. I knew as I nodded off that she'd drugged the drink.
Bugger. I hoped that I didn't wake up mutilated, that is, if I was going
to wake up at all. After all, I was getting to know that she was crazy,
and I wondered if my bollocks were going to have a bit of an altercation
with a sharp-bladed knife.
Well, I did wake up. I woke up in her bed, or rather came to. I hadn't
been mutilated, as such, but I wasn't myself. In fact, I wasn't in my
own body, I was in hers. And it was abundantly clear as I felt around
that she'd had a fairly lengthy session in my body fucking the life out
of me - in her body. The spunk that dripped out of my - her - lady bits
had run down the crack of my bum, was still doing so, and along with a
largish quantity of her vaginal secretions had generated a fairly
extensive wet patch that I was still lying in. I ought to have stood up,
looked in the mirror, clutched the breasts that I could now feel
attached to the chest of the body I occupied and then screamed.
According to the tenets of transgender fiction, I should have
masturbated the new body in the shower, or dressed in her clothes and
felt a mixture of sexual excitement and humiliation. As it was, I sat on
the edge of the bed, said the single word "Fuck," and lay back down on
the bed avoiding the wet patch to enjoy the residual sensations of being
fucked and having enjoyed every second of it, including the not
inconsiderable female orgasm I'd so recently experienced.
Well, if I'm her now, I can just entice myself back, and reverse the
process, so no harm's done, I thought. But I wasn't sure I wanted to,
because even the residual afterglow of that session was far more
intense, far more satisfying, than any sex I'd ever had as myself. I
wasn't even very good looking before, just a guy who tries hard and is
persistent, and that allied with a fairly large erect cock had got me
places where I shouldn't have got on looks alone. In fact, thinking of
that cock was getting Evelyn's body - mine now - excited again, so maybe
this was the time to masturbate it, to feel what that was like. So I got
stuck in. Bugger it - it wasn't as good as being fucked by a large cock
wielded by a stud, but it was a close run thing! I was really hard at
it, when the door opened, and there I was. Or there she was. My original
body had a huge stalker on. What is a girl supposed to do in a case like
that? Answer: give up with the fingers, open your legs, let the bloke
mount you, and feel that massive member doing its business of provoking
your climax, then having its own, and filling you with yet more spunky
jizz.
"Evelyn, you are a hot bitch," I hear her say, using my words, my voice
and my mouth.
What could I reply to that, but "Adam, you've got a huge cock. I loved
every minute of this. Now I can see why you didn't want to let me go
when the roles were reversed."
"And me too. Why the hell did you dump me? You know I'm the best fuck
you ever had."
"It's difficult. I didn't know you felt like this. And I feared you
wanted more from the relationship than I was prepared to give. But now I
know that you love me, I recognise the same feeling as me loving you.
I've never felt it before, so I didn't know what it was! So what happens
next?"
"The magic apple lasts for seven days and seven nights. Then we change
back."
"I don't mind if I stay like this if being screwed as a woman is always
this good! And, I can dress up in sexy clothes - you were a bit of a
frump, you know. I'm sure that you will find yourself OK running the
Atomic Physics department at the nuclear powerplant while I cook the odd
meal at home and wait for you to come back and shag me."
So, for the next seven days and seven nights I was Evelyn, and she was
me. She immediately took the back leave I was owed (because the Physics
was beyond her - she kept waving a joke wand at the reactors, and that
was bothering some of the staff) so that we were together every night
and every day. What I thought previously was great sex turned out to be
simply rough and tumble semi-rape, and I discovered what great sex
really is for a woman. I chucked out a lot of her clothes, and went on
shopping sprees. I was a pretty wealthy guy, and nothing but the best
would do for her. I could see the effect on my body that hers had,
especially in stockings and suspenders, silk panties edged in lace and a
pushup bra. I even fancied myself! Sometimes I would tease by not
wearing any underwear when we went out, and as well as shagging in that
bed in her flat, we copulated in grass, up against a wall in an alley or
a tree in the park, across the kitchen table, and in the back of my car.
Sometimes we would ride pillion on her broomstick, exciting each other
until we just had to land somewhere to make love again. We were lucky
not to be caught that night on the Copacabana beach! Now if she had been
a skilled witch we might have made ourselves invisible, or something
like that, but instead, we were just chased until we got the broomstick
started and flew off.
As well as chucking out the old clothes, I also purged the cosmetics.
Choice of Green or Black? Didn't suit my skin half as much as pink! Then
there was the kitchen. The amount of frog and newt that had to be
discarded filled a good half of our wheelie bin dumpster, although I
carefully recycled the glass jars!
Then came the time to change back. I wasn't sure I wanted to, but seven
days and seven nights of sheer delight has to come to an end, not just
sometime, but at exactly the right time when the magic clock rings the
magical alarm.
I woke up next to her in the bedroom of her flat, and I woke with an
erection.
"Please darling, may I make love to you? Then, please will you marry
me?" You see, I knew how much I meant to her, and surely, I would never
know a woman as thoroughly as I'd got to know her. I'd learnt to love
her for herself.
"Yes," she replied, "and Yes." Not much later, gripped in the throes of
the sexual ecstasy I knew firsthand, she reaffirmed it with "Yes, Yes,
YES!" and then I ejaculated inside her, and, absolutely, she was the
greatest sex I'd ever had in my own body (but not as good as being in
hers).
Two months later, she and I stood in the place we'd chosen to get
married in. She wanted a New Age sort of thing where we made vows to
each other as though we were alone in the world. Her pregnancy had just
begun to show seriously, and honestly, it made her more and more
desirable in my eyes. There were no guests, just ourselves, and we made
the vows that were all we needed to bind ourselves. Afterwards, Eve - I
call her that for short - led me through the orchard in which we swore
to be true to each other, towards a single tree that was unseasonally
fully laden with fruit. "This is my special place, Adam," she said. "It
has been passed down the generations to me. But before we make love on
the grass to consummate our vows, would you like to share an apple?"
Bree
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