Side Effects Ch.3 free porn video

Side Effects Ch.3 Here it is, finally! Chapter 3 is done. I apologized for such a long delay as life has been brutal towards me lately. Nevertheless, your feedbacks and reviews kept me writing. I appreciate your patience and your encouragement. I do hope you readers will like this chapter as well. Don't forget to drop a comment or two. Thank you. It's been a while since the second chapter, so I thought a quick recap would be a good idea. Well, here goes: In the near future when the world was governed by conservatives, homosexuality had been outlawed. However, an underground organization... the organization, came up with the most outrageous plot to bring back the liberty humanity used to enjoy. Courtney Donovan was one of the many unfortunate women chosen by the organization as she was replaced by a former sexual freedom activist, Frank Xavier. Utilizing the advancement of top secret bodysuit advancement, putting homosexuals in the place of ordinary men and women would not be impossible. As Gregory Welton and Nathan Jacobs prepared to replace Gwen and Hannah Morrison, their plan was unexpectedly foiled by a very nosy neighbor in the form of Maggie Chaplin. For her trouble, the curvy Ms. Chaplin ended being the one replaced by Gregory. However, the success of Plan B was short-lived when the kidnapped Maggie went missing not long after she was brought to the organization's laboratory. Warning: This story contains TG, masturbation and identity theft. Her Excellency As the wife of the French ambassador, Juliette Moreau was well known for her vivacious and down to earth personality. She hated the sight of bodyguards and always deemed the extra security a waste of her people's money. She would travel in limousines and private jets only if her husband gave her no other options. After being assigned to the United States, her significant other - Claude Moreau - was convinced that she and their 7 year-old son, Pierre would find that America wasn't such a bad place at all. In a heated argument before their departure, Juliette managed to have her way by leaving their little boy in the care of her parents in Lyon on one condition - that she would bring Pierre over once they had comfortably settled in. It had been a year since and now, Juliette was anxiously waiting in the VIP lounge of the JFK airport for the arrival of her son. Due to the French Trade Minister's visit, Claude couldn't be by her side. Nevertheless, these were the sort of situation where the French ambassador insisted on the presence of bodyguards and the rest of the special treatment in spite of Juliette's fuming. Her attire on this occasion though, showed no indication of her humble persona. Instead of her usually casual shirt and jeans, the 36 year-old looked ravishing in a pink sleeveless knee-length dress. Its material wrapping her figure tightly which in turn showed off her slender and yet, feminine curves. They complimented the lovely features on her face nicely as her long dark hair was done up in a neat bun. A couple of strands purposely allowed to escape from each side of her otherwise neatly combed up forehead as they frame her strikingly beautiful face. The Monica Belucci look-alike wore very little jewelry with the pearl necklace as the only piece exposed by the low-cut square neck of her elegant dress. Her long white-hose-encased-legs emerged from the bottom hem starting from her knees as they ended into a pair of pink 3-inch pumps. Even some of her security personnel couldn't resist stealing a few glances of the lovely ambassador's wife. Juliette could only pretend that she didn't notice as she focused her attention towards the VIP arrival gate. Her heart fluttered at the sight of Pierre as he appeared from the VIP arrival gate. She was ecstatic that even after more than a year of separation, her little boy immediately recognized her. He ran into Juliette's arm all the while calling out, "Mere!" Not far behind, his grandparents couldn't keep up with Pierre's energy as they eventually came to hug their eldest daughter. The first words that came from Juliette's mom were, "You seem to have lost some weight, my dear..." Holding on to her only child, Juliette had come to understand her 56 year-old mother's concern since she too was worried about how little Pierre had been growing up without her by his side. The mother and daughter continued their conversation in fluent French as Mr. Deneuve had always been the man with few words. He was however, impressed with the number of bodyguards present as the Deneuve family was guided into an even more impressive limousine. The interior of the luxurious vehicle's cabin afforded Pierre with plenty of space as he literally jumped into grand-papa's lap - allowing grand- maman and mere to catch up. Juliette could sense the overwhelming emotions from the way Mrs. Deneuve's eyes teared up as they shared the events and happenings for the past one year. After all, seeing her son in such good spirit as he pointed at the limousine's windows to the scenery of skyscrapers in New York City would have touched the heart of any parent especially after such a lengthy period apart. Juliette felt she should at least shed some tears as well. When the limousine steered off the 96th street into Park Avenue, Juliette's phone rang. Staring at the caller's ID, she was glad that their upscale Manhattan accommodation was just around the corner after the next traffic light. She allowed the incoming call to be forwarded into her voicemail as she was waiting for their transportation to pull up in front of the fancy condominium. "Papa, maman... please bring Pierre to the apartment. Mr. Brown and his friends will assist you. I'll be up in a minute..." Juliette said before kissing her boy in the forehead, not for the first time on the day. She wiped the lipstick mark off Pierre's head with her scarf before letting him skipped along with his grandparents. Returning back into the limousine, Juliette instructed the chauffeur to drive the vehicle into the basement garage and kept the engine running. She pressed a button on the console by the door and a soundproof smoked-glass came up between the driver and the passenger cabin. The mysterious number on the screen of her smartphone was staring back at her as she proceeded to return the call. Her emotionless expression was reflected back from the smoked-glass as she waited for the call to get through. Once she was connected, the voice on the other end immediately said, "Code red." That was enough for Juliette to search her purse for a compact foundation kit where she pressed a hidden button at the bottom. The signal jammer was activated and her line was switched to a jammer-proof satellite feed. The next button she felt incline to press was the one on her throat. After a short beep, Juliette spoke in her actual voice. "Report," the former Barry Watson demanded in his deep baritone. "One of the subjects is missing," the voice from the other end said. "What do you mean by missing? Give me the full report," 'Juliette' said without any hint of her French heritage. After a brief but concise rundown including the failed attempt to replace Gwen and Hannah Morrison, the 48 year-old former veteran CIA agent now in the place of the French ambassador's wife said, "The subject is in no condition to get very far. Find Maggie Chaplin at all cost. Expect me to be there in no more than an hour." 'Juliette' was utterly annoyed by the organization's lack of competence. With so much at stake, they couldn't afford such mistakes especially considering the subject was just a chubby middle-aged woman who was still recovering from the effects of sedation. One of the explanations was that the dose prepared for Gwen wasn't potent and long lasting enough for the much bigger Ms. Chaplin. The only other explanation which Barry hated to think about was: the escapee had help from someone inside the organization. The engine of the black Chrysler 300 was still running evident by the breeze from the air-conditioning which lifted fringes of hair off the sides across her lovely face. Juliette crossed her long legs at the knees, reveling in the feel of her nylon-encased thighs brushing against each other as she stared at the screen of her phone. Hints of hesitation crept up as the next person she was about to call made her unusually nervous. Memories The 'replaced' Courtney Donovan knew that there was nothing she could do to rectify the calamity which had befallen the organization. In fact, acting out of sorts and anxious like her husband were the least helpful in such situations as they might incite suspicions from the organization's enemies. That was what the former Frank Xavier had tried to tell Bob after the call from the headquarters regarding the disappearance of Maggie Chaplin. If the panic attacks from the earlier unsuccessful operation had not broken the husband, the news of a probable escaped subject had ensured his meltdown. He had even come up with suggestions of packing up and running away to avoid impending imprisonment. 'Courtney' had to switch back to her dominant role just so she could keep her man under control. However calm and strong she might be, keeping a leash on her lover was taking its toll on her slender form. The 27 year-old beauty had lost count of the slapping and spankings her pathetic husband needed so that he would be less of a sissy than her. The 'current' Mrs. Donovan giggled to the irony of that thought. Here she was, a previously 32 year-old male fugitive with a fetish for women's clothing, now driving a Mercedes while wearing the real Courtney's floral dress topped by a white unbuttoned blouse. Thanks to the secretly researched bodysuit technology, the former gay hairdresser was able to become a knockout brunette - looking exactly and taking over the identity of Courtney Donovan. The advancement of the disguise was such that 'she' was able to feel whatever the extra layer of synthetic skin felt. 'She' could feel the snugness of her purple laced panties and the matching brassiere underneath her dress. 'Her' hidden member twitched to the sensation of her thighs coming together as she drove her fancy vehicle in a very ladylike manner. After the ordeals from yesterday and the physical exertions required keeping Bob in check, a trip to the city's top beauty spa was fully deserved. Stirring her Mercedes into the private parking lot of the premise, Courtney collected her Louis Vuitton purse before stepping off her vehicle. She sauntered comfortably in her 4-inch white heels towards a well-maintained elevator. There was a nicely groomed security gentleman standing by the elevator's door, ready to assist any incoming customers. Her fashionable sunglasses easily hid the glances she casted on the bodyguard as she drank up the sight of the hunk's firm and muscular form. The twitching of her secret appendage intensified. "Good day, ma'am... How may I assist you?" the towering 6 feet tall spa employee politely asked. With his fair and shiny skin and that broad-jaw handsome face, the guy could easily find a fulltime job as a male supermodel. A gold plated name tag revealed his name. "Good day, Eric... I have an appointment with Salford Beauty and Spa. My name is Courtney Donovan," said the regular customer, her eyes dead on Eric's firm chest. She could only hope that he would be available for the session she had booked for herself. A brief verification through his wireless earpiece was all that was required for Eric to guide the customer into the posh elevator. Swaying her shapely hips into the opened elevator, Courtney noticed how her firm derri?re resulted in a few stolen glances from the security hunk. "Thanks, Eric..." Courtney turned around and said once she was inside the lift. She managed to caught Eric blushed just before the door slid shut. As the elevator moved upwards, the former Frank thought about how his new appearance had attracted countless of straight men. He managed to craft a wry smile on his Courtney-face. The temptation to fuck all of them was always present but he loved Bob despite his deficiencies. He had never cheated on him when he was still Frank Xavier and he had no plans to start now. Once the elevator arrived on the 13th floor, its door glided open to the luxury spa's reception desk. A beautiful blonde was anticipating Courtney's arrival behind the tall desk. Her smile was worth millions as she politely greeted the incoming client. "Good morning Mrs. Donovan. Your private room is ready. Please proceed to the changing area. Our helpful assistant will set you up for today's session," said Melanie. "Thanks Mel," Courtney replied. As this was not her visit, the former Frank knew Melanie Walker well enough to know that the 29 year-old was an ex-model who somehow decided to work for a spa and beauty institution, amid a prestigious one. With her flawless fair skin, magazine cover-worthy face and the required tall and slender figure, Melanie could have easily grace the catwalks of many renowned fashion events. But only Frank and people from the organization knew the fact that she was replaced by a 46 year-old scientist by the name of Charles Yamasaki prior to her supposedly promising modeling career. The organization needed Yamasaki's brain while the former Neuroscience researcher needed Melanie's appearance for him to be part of Salford's beauty centric business. Courtney nodded and returned the friendly smile. An even younger lady emerged from the back of the reception area before leading the spa's regular customer down a hallway towards the changing room. The ambient of the place was soothing and at the same time, exquisite. Some sort of therapeutic aroma filled the air as the lovely assistant stopped by the doorway of a tastefully decorated room to allow Courtney passage. Once inside, the young employee gently closed the door for Courtney to have her own space. Everything from the elevator to the reception area and the hallway was overlaid with opulent carpet. Courtney's private changing room was not spared of the luxuriant treatment. In spite of the building's location in the middle of the metropolitan, the noises of New York City's traffic were nonexistent in here. As she basked in the calmness of her surrounding, the phony Mrs. Donovan proceeded to strip off her blouse and floral dress. Her 4-inch white ankle-strap heels were left underneath a dresser shelf just beside another pair of fluffy slippers. A full-length mirror was strategically placed so that she could take in the view of her lustful form while she released her breasts from the constraints of the laced white brassiere. Covered only in skimpy panties, Courtney admired her feminine curves and the slightest hint of a pregnancy bump just below her belly button. Today's sessions would be perfectly safe for her and her upcoming baby. As a matter of fact, the facial and massage treatment would be therapeutic for her supposedly morning sickness. Leaving her silk underwear on, the young wife and soon-to-be mother went for the neatly folded pink robe on a shelf before wrapping herself in the comfortable material. Her discarded clothing were arranged nicely in a handcrafted shallow basket along with her jewelry before making her way into a connected room with a cozy looking massage bed in the center. Without taking off her robe, Courtney laid down on the crib - making herself comfortable. A well-built gentleman who was as good looking as Eric appeared a few seconds later. "Have you thought about my offer from your last visit for a 'special full body massage', Mrs. Donovan?" Caleb the handsome masseur enquired. Knowing very well the true meaning of the specialty spa service, Courtney was tempted. The lustful squeals from a young mistress in the room next to hers certainly didn't help matters as Courtney strengthened her resolves. "I afraid I'll have to pass, Caleb. I can't risk hurting Bob. But that doesn't mean that I'm not tempted, mind you," Courtney said. "He's one very lucky man... So, the usual facial treatment then?" the masseur conceded. "Yes please," Courtney said. On the surface, unsuspecting outsiders would think that Caleb was just performing some sort of therapeutic facial massage. One would not notice that the hunk was actually palpating for spots among Courtney's beautiful face. These spots would serve as inputs which would then be connected to the little transmitters hidden underneath a skin revitalizing mask. These wires connected the mask to a small hub underneath the bed. Once every receiver had been deemed online as indicated by the dozen of green LEDs on the hub, Caleb took out a small USB drive. Formality set in. "Please state your name and chamber number," Caleb requested. "Courtney Donovan. Five. Three," Courtney said in a less melodious tone. After the verification process, Caleb inserted the thumb drive into the hidden hub. The twelve green lights started flickering as further memories extracted from the preserved Courtney were being transferred to the new Courtney. Millions of data shot through the wires into the receivers on the new Courtney's synthetic skin as the bodysuit began decrypting information which included soft skills, habits, knowledge and past experiences. By now, Caleb had excused himself making his way out of the room. It would take at least an hour for the memory transfer to complete. However, that was not the main reason to leave the subjects alone. Privacy was of utmost importance because bodysuit wearer would usually find some of the new memories so pleasant that they would need the space to pleasure themselves - only that's if they opted out of the 'special full body treatment'. The vivid visions of Courtney's fling with her fitness instructor was among the latest pieces of puzzles extracted. The former Frank could see that the old Courtney was in fact started cheating on Bob a couple of month before she was 'replaced'. The initially blurry image became clearer as the old Courtney appeared to have checked into a hotel not far away from the fitness center. The Courtney in the vision was obviously attracted to instructor's physique as she couldn't keep her hands off him once they were in the privacy of a rather fancy hotel room. It was a steamy scene as the old Courtney ripped the man's shirt apart - revealing his ridiculously toned muscles. She didn't wait long to kneel in front of Kyle (that's what she kept calling him) before unbuckling the front of his pants. The zip came down and Kyle's massive cock sprung out. The false Courtney could feel her own member straining against its confinement as the memory clearly showed how much the old Mrs. Donovan craved for Kyle's throbbed meat. The doppelganger moved her feminine hand downwards before parting her robe in accordance to what the memory of herself did as she bobbed her head back and forth with her lips wrapped around the fitness professional's erection. The ex-homosexual hairstylist could almost feel as if he was actually there - in that particular hotel room with the well-built man. 'Her' finger started rubbing 'her' perfectly copied clit through the soft material of her thong. That was how the new Courtney had always preferred to masturbate which was very much unlike the original young lady. 'Her' other hand duly made itself busy groping at 'her' life-like breast as the vision of the old Courtney getting humped from behind was streamed into her mind like a first rate pornography. Everything that followed became a mixture of moans and groans as the young wife was ravaged by her fitness instructor. The more that she allowed the scene to play on, the faster her hand was stroking at her drenching wet pussy. It didn't take long before she eventually shifted her hand under the lacy waist band of her panties so that her dainty fingers would come in direct contact with her G-spot. The fondling and kneading of her ample breast with her other hand never ceased when she started inserting her middle finger into her perfectly constructed pussy. Stimulus after stimulus were sent to the former man's hidden appendage - causing it to secrete copious amount of precum. These natural lubricants were allowed to escape via a small opening to make it appear as if the artificial cunt was capable of producing heavenly nectar. As time passes, the recipient of Courtney memory found the scene in the hotel room to be progressively blurry as multiple different occasions where sex with other men apart from her husband and the fitness instructor flashed before the former Frank. Within seconds, immense waves of pleasures washed over the identity thief as 'her' tucked-away cock erupted within its confinement - shooting loads after loads of cum. As it was with 'her' pre-cum, the white jizz flowed through the same covert opening before emerging from between 'her' reddened pussy lips, further soaking the thong which was still clinging onto 'her' childbearing hips. The false Courtney fell asleep, conveniently allowing further stolen memories being transferred. Those were apparently not the only things. After the completion of the memory reinforcement phase, 'Courtney' was guided to a private hot bath where she was required to soak in the warm water. It appeared like a part of any spa services accept that it wasn't just to revitalize the impostor's synthetic skin, but to alter the shape of her pregnant tummy according to the supposed duration of her pregnancy. Apart from her visit to the spa, the gradual augmentation process would normally also be done at the organization designated obstetrician's office. By the end of her 'pampering', the refreshed 'woman' stood in front of the changing room's full length mirror. Her left hand softly resting on her slightly more prominent abdomen. The growth of a new life pushing a woman's uterus upwards was usually the cause for such a protrusion but that's not the case for 'Courtney'. It was merely her bodysuit being made to look like she was coming to the end of the first trimester of her pregnancy. Nevertheless, she still enjoyed the sight of her 'pregnant' belly as being given the opportunity to impersonate a pregnant lady was definitely on a whole new level of fulfillment for the former Frank. His hidden member stirred from within. "Wait till I hold the baby... my baby, in my arms, " he said before putting back on Courtney's brassiere and dress. Anxiety By the 3rd day, Gregory Welton had gotten himself well accustomed to Maggie's bigger frame. He could move around her spacious house without even noticing the weight and the fact that he was wearing the 45 year- old's disguise. The organization could have arranged for the original Maggie replacement to take Greg's place within the next few days but decided against it for a couple of reasons. Firstly, the failed attempt to replace Gwen and Hannah Morrison had attracted a lot of attention especially among the media and tabloids. After all, the mother and daughter were already some sort of celebrity after Mr. Morrison's success and subsequent demise. The presence of NYPD's vehicles at their door step was always going to reawaken any withering interests towards the wealthy widow and her fashionable teenage daughter. Living just across the street, even the smallest amount of abnormalities would very likely turn some curious paparazzi heads. The organization certainly had no intention of getting dragged into the spotlight. The second and more important reason was the disappearance of the real Maggie Chaplin. So far, frantic effort from the organization to locate her had yielded nothing. The only good news was the lack of activities from the government especially from the CIA if their sources from within were to be trusted. Nevertheless, the organization had come to the agreement that whoever involved in Miss Chaplin's escape might be monitoring Greg's version of Maggie as well. Hence, the risk of exposure would be too great if they attempt to extract Greg and replace him with Maggie's intended replacement. In fact, the organization had ordered for all operations across the globe to be postponed until their missing subject was recaptured. It was an unprecedented step but most certainly a required one. Gregory could only be thankful that good old Maggie had a habit of keeping a diary. Even though it contained mostly of everything which happened around her - things which she had no business of writing them down in her 'personal' diary in the first place - Greg could still discover information on her friends, clients and the recipe of her favorite cupcakes. Coupled with regular visits from his current best friend, the false Brenda Coburn, who made sure to keep the new Maggie informed regarding her well-known habits as well as the do's and the don'ts - Greg should be able to deceive some among the neighbors. "... and she kept mentioning this cute client of hers while she was selling this high end property uptown. You might wanna find out his name from her appointment app in her phone. You're fortunate that I was in charge of the stalking phase for Maggie's replacement. By the way, I might as well let you in on who among our committee whom have been replaced..." Brenda kept talking, seemingly in much higher spirit than her host. The former Greg found it increasingly difficult to focus as his anxiety was growing by the minute. He was supposed to have been living Gwen Morrison's life by now if not for the unfortunate turns of events. Just when he thought that things could not be getting any worse, he received news from the organization that the real Maggie Chaplin was missing. He would surely be the first to be arrested if the old Maggie did in fact escaped and made it to the authorities somehow. How would he answer for impersonating someone who had just been kidnapped? "...wouldn't believe that Jennifer Foster was actually replaced by her nephew..." Brenda stopped halfway, finally realizing that the false Maggie wasn't paying any attention to whatever she was saying. "Maggie... Maggie..." No response. "GREGORY WELTON!" Brenda called out in a firm tone. Immediately, she got the reaction which she was looking for. "What the fuck, Brenda?!" the former Greg exclaimed, almost jumping off his seat before continuing with a soft whisper, "Wh-Why did you just use my... old name? You know they could be tapping this place right this instance." "Relax... I've swept your place twice this morning. Plus I brought a signal jammer with me. So, I don't expect anyone's listening," the former Eddie Woods calmly said. "But still..." the phony Maggie trying to protest before being interrupted by the friend. "I know what you're thinking... Maggie. But trust me when I say that the organization has the capacity to sort it out. Meanwhile, there's nothing else we can do," Brenda said before leaning closer to her good friend with an arm around her shoulder. Maggie rested her head on Brenda's skinny shoulder. It's not as firm as Dillion's lean physique but the former Greg was just glad that a fellow impostor was around. For the past 3 days, 'Brenda' was his only connection to the organization and a big help for him to play a convincing Maggie. Without the 49 year old neighbor... or rather her impersonator, he would be completely lost, not to mention terrified. These emotions got even more complicated when 'Brenda' tilted her head as their lips met. At first, the former Greg did not know how to react. Eventually, he gave in to his jumbled up feelings as he let Brenda's tongue slid into his Maggie-mouth. It felt like making out with his college girlfriend many years back before discovering his true desire for men. There was a lot of similarities except that Brenda was a much better kisser as she roamed Maggie's oral cavity with her pro-active tongue while encouraging the former Greg to do the same. The other difference and the more important factor was knowing that it was actually a man underneath that feminine form. It had been ages since he had been embraced by anyone much less a man. He and Dillon had always had an open relationship with the lawyer frequently seen engaging with women to feint his image as a healthy heterosexual while the former Greg occasionally seek comfort among the condemned. He was curious to see what the man behind Brenda's elegance had to offer as he started moving his Maggie- hand up her guest's thigh. As 'Maggie' felt the friend's svelte hand groping at her impressive breasts, the supposedly 45 year-old real estate broker slipped under Brenda's knee-length skirt before coming to a stop on her panty-cladded crotch. The tip of her fingers - thanks to the synthetic synapses of the bodysuit - could detect the apparent moisture, causing a moan to escape from Brenda's lips from between their passionate kissing. Encouraged by the response, 'Maggie' proceeded by rubbing at 'Brenda's pussy through the fabric of her panties. After considerable amount of saliva exchanged, their lips separated so that Brenda could lift her friend's top up and over her head before casting it aside. Maggie's voluptuous figure was evident as her large globes were barely restrained by her white brassiere. Brenda reached behind her friend - planting kisses on her neck along the way - before unfastening the clasp of the lingerie and releasing 40 DD of perfection from its confinement. The former Greg had played with the 'twins' himself since the first night as Maggie and still he couldn't get enough of the wonderful sensation. Normally, the homosexual would have not the slightest interest in tits but the pure pleasure he got from touching his own, shifted his perception. He could only wonder if this was what real women felt or if it was just the enhancement made to the bodysuit by the organization. The thoughts were immediately interupted by the sucking and tongue slashing on her nipples. Judging by how good Brenda was making her feel, 'Maggie' was curious if the bespectacled housewife had done the same with some of the other replaced housewives. Then again, she recalled Brenda's occasional fuming about the professor's recently diagnosed erectile dysfunction. Still that couldn't explain how someone who was usually turned on by masculinity would do what they were doing now - embracing each others feminine appearances. The Maggie impersonator had no time to ponder as 'she' felt the false Brenda moved further downwards before gently spreading her legs. Maggie's floral dress provided no resistance as the crotch of her white panties came into view. The devious grin was the last Maggie saw of her friend before she took off her thick-rim glasses and buried her face between the former Greg's groins. She could feel Brenda yanking aside the front of Maggie's underwear before probing her cunt with her tongue. Precum masquerading as pussy nectar leaked freely as Brenda continued stimulating Maggie's hidden 'glan penis' through her bodysuit's clitoris. From the pleasure that she was receiving, 'Maggie' could tell that this was not Mrs. Coburn's first time. Going by the enthusiasm shown, Maggie even began to wonder if the former Eddie Woods was actually a bisexual. Frankly, there wasn't a care in the world as Ms. Chaplin continued playing with her own plentiful tits while sensing the imminent arrival of her orgasm. "Oooh... Fuuuccckkk...!" the phony Maggie screamed at the top of her lungs as her hidden appendage ejaculated loads after loads of cum within its confinement. Just like how her precum leaked through the small opening at the bottom of a membrane, the former Greg's seeds poured out through the same tiny hole. Being flooded with her friend's pussy ejaculate, Brenda managed to swallow a good amount of it before retreating. As she got back onto her feet, the devious grin on her rather beautiful face told Maggie what's on her mind. In fact the elongated object pushing up the front of her skirt confirmed Maggie's suspicion. Mrs. Coburn had apparently released her hidden 'beast' while she was eating out Maggie's cunt. "Wanna meet my other best friend?" Brenda asked, standing in front of her post-orgasmic host while sensually unbuttoning her blouse. Washed up with lust and pleasure, the new Maggie just nodded as she watched Brenda lifted the front of her skirt. A glistening 8 and a half inch cock emerged, separating her wet pussy lips and pushing aside the front of her black lacy panties. One of her hairy balls hanged loose while the other was still supported by the crotch of her underwear. "Well... What do you think?" 'Brenda' proudly asked while her hands disappeared behind as she was trying to unzip her skirt. She had to pull the skirt over her monstrosity in order for it to be dropped onto the floor around her ankles. Stepping over her discarded clothing, the former Eddie was now left with Brenda's sexy black bra and her matching panties which couldn't contain his impressive manhood and a pair of 3-inch heels. He was still anticipating an answer from his fellow impostor. Without having to say a word, Maggie responded by leaning forward as she wrapped her lips around Brenda's rotund fuckstick. Her head was gradually bobbing back and forth as her tongue constantly swirled around the slender blonde's throbbing rod, making sure that it was well coated with her saliva. Brenda cooed in acknowledgement of the chubby red-head's skillful blow-job before swinging her hips forwards and back in sync with Maggie's movement. As the oral pleasuring progressed, the blonde started grabbing Maggie's curly red hair before taking control by giving her mouth a good fucking. Foul languages and curses spilled as the height of ecstasy washed over the University lecturer's wife. After what seemed like a few more minutes, Maggie could sense the impending orgasm of the blonde - going by the way her sacs were tightening up. Right then, Brenda pulled her cock out of Maggie's mouth before ordering her to get on all four. "Hurry up, sexy... Mr. Winky here wants to have a real good taste of that sweet cherry ass..." the blonde 'dick-girl' said. Slowly but surely getting back into the mood, the former Greg duly turned his Maggie form around before supporting 'herself' on her hands and knees - presenting her ample derriere to the false Brenda. Turning her head around, 'Maggie' gleefully teased, "All yours... " The view from Brenda's perspective was glorious. Maggie's dripping wet pussy and her Kardashian-like ass were nicely presented to Brenda's enjoyment. Licking her lips and stroking her own pulsating erection, 'Brenda' positioned herself behind the former Greg. "Eenie, minie, miney, moe..." Brenda playfully counted between Maggie's pussy and anus. In the end, she decided to go for the redhead's pussy, seeing that it was well primed to receive her equipment. Brenda continued to tease as she rubbed her cockhead along Maggie's cunt lips, sending shocks throughout the 45 year-old's body. Once she shoved it in, a girlish squeal escaped Maggie's mouth as she experienced getting penetrated as a woman for the very first time. It was completely different from when the former Greg was entered from behind as a man. The friction between two cocks within the bodysuit's womb in addition to the stimulus from Maggie's artificial clitoris was truly on another level. The lubrication from Greg's semen could only add to the the already mind-blowing sensation. "Goodness gracious, sister... You're so fucking tight!" Brenda said, before gradually increasing her pace. In no time, the blonde housewife was hammering away at her friend's pussy as slapping sounds of two bodies coming together dominated the ambience of Maggie's large living hall. The voluptuous recipient was grabbing on to the opulent couch as she withstood the unexpected energy from Brenda's supposedly frail body. She soon found out that she could really be addicted to the sensation of their cocks colliding as her second orgasm was quickly approaching. "Please don't stop... Brenda... honey... Please... fuck me... harder... Oh fuck... I'm so fucking close...!" Maggie begged. Right then, 'Brenda' ceased her pummeling before withdrawing her 8 and a half inch rod from Maggie's snatch - to the disappointment of the chubby redhead. Still on her hands and knees, Maggie almost cried as she turned her head around as to beg her friend to continue. The wicked grin was out of place on Brenda's graceful features - but it was nevertheless reassuring that there's more in store for Maggie. "Oh that sorry face of yours makes me wanna destroy your ass even more!" the blonde said before placing her now adequately lubricated fuckstick at the door step to Maggie's anus. Her fleshy ass cheeks were never an issue thanks to the impressive length of Brenda's manhood. In one swift movement, the neighbor managed to shove half of that length into Maggie's ass. After a few more pushing and pulling movements, all of Brenda's cock disappeared inside of the voluptuous redhead. Groans and moans from the mixture of pain and pleasure came from both ladies as they indulged themselves. It was a more familiar territory for the former Greg but still, it just didn't feel quite the same. In fact with her a pair of 40DD tits hanging down from her chest as her nipples were brushing against the couch while having her ass pounded by a beautiful housewife - it all felt significantly more arousing compared to the man-man actions. There was even more as she soon found out when Brenda halted the ass- drilling endeavor for a brief moment before flipping Maggie onto her back. No one would expect the slender blonde to have such strength but the ease in which she manhandled someone like Maggie - all the while without withdrawing her penis - surprised the former Greg. Once her legs were comfortably resting on Brenda's shoulders, the blonde resumed her hip's back and forth rhythmic motion. The pleasant surprises didn't stop there. While Maggie was getting pounded by Brenda, her left hand tried to shift from her breast towards her own clit before being pushed away. "Keep... both your... hands on your... massive titties, honey..." Brenda said in between each shove before adding, "Leave your... pussy to... me." Maggie had no idea what her friend had in mind until she inserted all five of her fingers - one at a time - through Maggie's pussy lips and into her 'temporary' womb. The sensation of stretching was realistically transmitted through the fibers to the nerves within Greg's cock as it continued to strain against the thin concealing membrane. It was then released by Brenda's probing fingers before being tucked out from Maggie's vaginas. "Oh goodness me... That felt amazing!" Maggie moaned feeling the cool breeze against 'her' fully erect man-meat. "I'm only getting started... sweetie pie..." Brenda said before she began stroking and fucking Maggie at the same time. Having her ass pounded while getting jerked off, Maggie felt she could come at any moment. The groping and fondling she was doing to her own mammaries only serve to expedite things as her scrotum were tightening up. Overwhelmed by all the sensations, a huge load of cum squirted out of Maggie's cock and landed all the way between her large racks. Further streams of white jizz were unleashed as Brenda continued pumping her grip on Maggie's rod. She didn't stop banging the redhead's ass either. However, the good squeeze she got from Maggie's anus during her ejaculation was making it difficult for Brenda to last any longer. Maggie was impressed by the blonde housewife's energy as she managed to keep on pummeling her derriere for a good ten minutes before the movement of her body starter becoming jerky. Sweats trickled down Brenda's forehead as she gave a final couple of pushes before pulling out her penis. She let Maggie's legs fell down her sides before straddling her lover and started pumping cock over her face. "Open wide... bitch... I'M FUCKING... CUMMING...!" Brenda's form turned rigid before jets of after jets of cum shot into Maggie's mouth and all over her face. She continued stroking her cock until her balls were empty. It's been a while since the former Greg had swallowed another person's cum but here, he gulped it all down like a famish beggar. The salty sweetness reminded him of Dillon as he was embraced by the exhausted Brenda who collapsed onto his side. "I hope that helped lessen the anxiety," the fake Brenda said, still trying to catch her breath. "It sure did... It sure did," the fake Maggie said. Popular Wearing nothing but women's lingerie and a pair of 4-inch practice heels, the slender African American sat with his legs crossed while reading the file of the recently voted in Senator. His dark skin tone and body hairs especially those on his skinny legs were nothing but an obvious contrast to his odd attire. The months of proper diet and strenuous exercise along with regular doses of medications helped loose drastic amount of weight but his general appearance remained rather unfeminine. His years of experience as the most successful CIA agent in the agency's history had taught him that 'anything is possible' - if you know the right person to 'eliminate'. As he admired Senator Patricia O. Sutton's front page picture clipped among the vast information about her in the folder, he was aware that his next mission won't have to involve any killing. It would, however, involved something worse than that. For the organization to achieve its goal, he would have to steal the actress-turn-politician's life. One of the photographs in the thick folder was showing Senator O. Sutton addressing her supporters after her victory a month ago. At only 38, her appearance was that of an angel. Many of those who voted for her might say that her good looks had nothing to do with her propelling political career but it sure made her easy on a lot of eyes. The locks of her long blonde hair had the slightest curves as it flowed neatly past her shoulders while her big blue eyes conveyed sincerity and emotions which had won her the hearts of American citizens ever since she was a teenager. Complimented with her cute and slightly upturned nose and her juicy plump lips on a heart-shaped face as well as her intelligence, it was easy to see why the Americans had fallen head over heels for the budding politician. It was equally easy to understand why the organization had chosen her as their main platform for their own agenda. The newly elected senator was one of the strongest supporters of the current conservative regime. She was a great campaigner for the 'normal' relationships and a defender of the GOD's way. Her anti-gay speeches often made headlines as well as making her the perfect propaganda for the government. Therefore, turning the attractive politician into one of the organization's little puppet would be paramount towards their grand aspiration. But the awkwardly dressed African American realized that it would certainly be a challenge to approach such a high profile target. That was the reason they had one of their well trained female agent, also a ruthless assassin who used to work for the CIA, replaced O. Sutton's handsome husband six months prior to the election. With Genie playing the role of Brad O. Sutton, the mission to put one of the organization's commander among the country's policy makers would be less daunting. As he was about to turn a page, the satellite phone seated on the same table rang. A normal person would have jumped from the sudden alert, but not the former US secret agency's director. His ice-cold demeanor would chill any room as he reached over to pick up the bulky communication device. His face showed no expression as he listened to the 'wife' of the French ambassador reporting on Maggie Chaplin's disappearance. "Kill everyone in the lab," was the African American's reply. "A new team will be arranged to take over." 36 hours ago.. She was huffing and puffing by the time a trunk road came into view. Her head was still spinning from the effects of the sedatives but she was thankful to the mysterious man who woke her up before giving her instructions on an unguarded escape route. She was also informed that someone would pick her up once she had come to a road by the woods. Maggie's only regret that she didn't get to know the name of this mysterious man who had saved her life. The sound of an engine interupted her thoughts as she immediately ducked behind bushes not wanting to be spotted by the laboratory's personnel. The man who helped her had told her that another man wearing a straw-hat driving a black Chevy with no registration number should be waiting. From behind the shrubs, the vehicle and its driver fit the description. Feeling relieved, Maggie quickly ran towards the car waving frantically which reminded her of a movie where an Indian boy was stranded with tiger on a lifeboat in the middle of a vast ocean. Unlike the aircrafts in the movie, the black car swiftly came to a halt before pulling back to where Maggie was standing. Without saying a word, the straw-hat guy swung the door on the passenger's side open for the escapee to hop in. He was constantly looking around while Maggie climbed in and swung the door close. As the Chevy drove on, the Hispanic looking guy kept on scanning the side and the rear mirror - still not saying a word. If not for her breathlessness, Maggie would have been asking a dozen of questions by now. All she could do was to trust the stranger whom seemed to be knowing what he's doing. Apart from the odd attire of straw-hat and a Hawaiian shirt, he was actually rather good looking with deep brown eyes, Roman nose and prominent chin. Due to his expert maneuvering and handling, the black vehicle reached a tarmac road in no more than half an hour. Fifteen minutes later, they were cruising on some highway where there were more traffic. Maggie felt immensely relieved by when they had passed through more buildings and skyscrapers which she recognized as part of Washington DC. She was surprised by how far they have taken her all the way to the west coast. "I'm Special Agent Quentin Fernandez," the driver finally uttered his first words in over two hours of journey. For the first time in her life, Maggie didn't know what to say as they pulled in front of the unmistakable J. Edgar Hoover Building with three large letters on it: F. B. I. To be continued?