Girlfriend With Testing Device 2 - Hungover Like A Horse free porn video

Author's Note: This is part two of my smutty little romantic comedy series. This chapter is probably the smuttiest of the early chapters, but its also the shortest because I was still kind of finding my stride when I wrote it. If you'd like to see more chapters, please come check out me out at https://razmagurk.deviantart.com/ or https://www.patreon.com/razmagurk . Please leave a comment! I love hearing from readers! A special Thank You to everyone who commented on part one! Its people like you who keep me wanting to put stuff like this out! Look forward to more in the weeks ahead! Thank you for reading! Enjoy! =-=-=-=-= Warning: this chapter is for adults only and contains your full daily dose of gravity-defying boobs, a girl badly afflicted by the male gaze, breakfast in bed, self exploration, body-swap aftermath, bent genders, people being super naked, lady-boners (both kinds), reality-blindness, closet swapping, and two consenting and informed adults in a monogamous long-term relationship expressing their love for each other in a variety of physical ways that would make your grandmother blush. Girlfriend with Testing Device - A Smutty Fanfiction, of Sorts - = Part 2 - Hungover like a Horse = By Razmagurk It's amazing the limits the mind can go to ignore something that is so obviously wrong. In my defense, I was clearly hungover. Never in my life had I been as drunk as I had been last night. The only thing keeping me from still tasting the booze and sex in the back of my throat was the fact that my mouth was too dry to register any taste at all. Every breath I took, every movement I made, sent more clues to my brain that something wasn't quite right. For starters, I couldn't get comfortable. I seemed completely incapable of rolling over onto my front. Even rolling onto my side felt horrible, like I was somehow squishing myself. Still on the blissful edge of sleep though, the reason for this seemed not nearly as important as just being able to return to whatever half-remembered dream I was involved with at the time. It was one of those mornings where it felt like nothing the world could throw at me couldn't be solved by just going back to bed for fifteen more minutes. Or... you know... the rest of the goddamn day. I must have laid there for an hour, brain slowly flickering on and off, before I realized that despite my best efforts, I wasn't about to actually fall back asleep. It was also slowly dawning on me, in a kind of low, primal way, that I was horny. Stupidly horny. Like I'd woken from some amazing wet dream right before it could get to the good part and now I was left with all the hormones and no outlet. Fueling the fire was how my heavy breathing was causing my nipples to rub sensuously against the sheets, and how my morning wood kept throbbing in time to my pulse as I kept subconsciously grinding my hips against the blanket. I let out a low subvocal groan, then a soft whimper, and then finally resigned myself to consciousness. I stretched and wriggled in bed as the diaphanous sheets clung to my warm curves. Slowly, I opened my eyes. They were dry and heavy, and I could tell from the crack of golden sunlight streaming through the curtain that it was going to be a rough morning. There, sitting on the bedside table, just out of focus, lay a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin. My nose was telling me that somehow, somewhere, someone was making bacon. My brain sloshed when I sat up, accompanied by the dull roar of pain in the back of my skull. My body felt all out of balance, like parts of it were swollen or heavy. I scratched at my balls as I idly fumbled around for my glasses, but I couldn't find them. I plopped the pills on my sandpaper tongue and forced myself to drink the entire glass. Ugh. Great, now the lingering taste of last night's spirits had come back to haunt me in full force. Wait. Wait. This wasn't my hand. In a surge of panic, my half-asleep brain was suddenly spinning on all cylinders. These small, delicate, feminine things were not my hands. And, oh god, these huge things hanging off my chest were definitely not my tits. I pulled off the blankets. Oh god, I had a dick! How had I had my hand down there moments ago and not noticed that? I reached down to grab it, as though that would somehow dispel the illusion, but it only confirmed my fears. Memories of last night began to flood into my mind as my brain finally found a proper gear. Was I going crazy? It all seemed like some kind of strange dream. I had been given a device that could swap body parts... and, oh god, there it was. Sitting on the far bedside table was the device. Somehow smaller seeming than in my memory. Its cobbled-together appearance belaying its awesome power. If I didn't have a firm grip on the proof that was my own body, I'd still have a hard time believing it. Why had I drank so much? I had been completely out of control. Visions of bottles and shots and fancy cocktails fluttered through my brain. I didn't normally drink, and especially not enough to get as wasted as I had been. I had been in no condition to be wielding the kind of power I had had at my disposal. My inebriated state, however, did explain why I had grown so bold. I had treated that bar like an all-you-can-eat buffet. I looked down at my body. It was flawless. Every blemish, every unsightly aspect, every ordinary feature, all gone, all replaced with the best the bar had had to offer. I was like a playboy centerfold photoshopped together from all the hottest parts. No... playboy didn't even begin to approach how pornographically hot I looked right now. I wasn't pretty, I wasn't beautiful, and I sure as hell wasn't cute. I was hot, I was sexy, I was the kind of girl who could destroy relationships with a flirtatious glance. Fuck being taken seriously, I dimly remembered thinking, for the first time in my life I was attractive, and it felt good. The only thing that stood out - literally in this case - was my dick. I had stolen it from my boyfriend, Evan, as a prank, and just ran with it. I realized my hand was still gripping it tightly. I had never seen it from this angle before. It was big and beautiful, but the distance made it seem smaller somehow. I guess I was just so used to seeing it up close. Even just touching the thing felt good, like a very low level buzz. It was like playing with a fidget toy. No wonder guys were so obsessed with these things. Oh god, my boyfriend. Even hadn't been touching the device at the time, so he had no idea what I'd done. I had found it so funny I hadn't traded it back. People who weren't touching the device didn't seem to realize anything was amiss. In his mind he'd always had a tight little pussy and me having a huge dick was no different from me having blonde hair. I laughed. There was something about that that just gave me such a rush. The smell of bacon grew louder. I tried to remember more about what had happened last night. Uhg, drunk and horny, I remembered trying to convincing Evan to try out a new body, and how he, unaware of my swapping all the cheerleaders and jocks around, had ended up in the body of a bimbo with no clue that he wasn't some kind of hyper-macho manly man. I smiled. Okay that was still kinda funny. Trying to remember how his new body had looked was doing powerful things to me though. I couldn't believe how horny the thought of that ass in that mini skirt was getting me. I wasn't even normally into girls, but... fuck, I had swapped my sexuality with one of the jocks too, hadn't I? I had made myself a lesbian so that I could love his female body. Then we'd cabbed back to his place where we... oh... well, no wonder I was so tired. Oh my god, what had I done? Only my arousal kept my guilt at bay. The sex had been so weird - so taboo and messed up - but we had both loved every second of it. We had never had such passionate sex. I thought I'd been horny before, but thinking back to last night had me ready to crush diamonds. The throbbing in my head began to subside, subsumed by the water, the aspirin and my growing need for sex. I sat at the edge of the bed, reliving the previous night over and over in my head. One hand exploring the sensitivity of the huge globes now jutting off my slender frame, the other starting to get a handle on what I'm sure would probably be the first of many morning erections. I'll be honest, I wasn't especially well practiced. I hadn't really been one for manual stimulation in the bedroom, and I was used to coming at it from a different angle, but thankfully it didn't take me very long to figure it all out. I think that when you have a dick, sex tends to very easily become about that dick. Like, that's not to say that the rest of my body wasn't erotically sensitive. Quite the opposite, the sensation coming from my tits as I rolled my nipples between my fingers was more powerful than anything my old body had been able to produce. Even just massaging my hand along my newly delicate form was causing every inch of my body to whimper in pleasure. Despite this though - and perhaps it was just the novelty of the situation - I couldn't help but focus on the growing pressure building in my big, beautiful cock. All other pleasure just felt secondary. What had I swapped, I wondered, that made this new body so irresistibly sensitive? Had my libido been heightened as a result of me acquiring that football player's sexuality? Or did the girls I had swapped with just have naturally sensitive features? Maybe that's why they had seemed so desperate at the bar. God, if I had a body that got turned on this easy I'd be desperate to fuck too. I bit my lip as I plucked at one of my huge nipples with my perfectly manicured nails. Maybe this was just something that had always been lurking deep inside of me that had finally bubbled to the surface? Maybe on some psychological level I'd always been some kind of nymphomaniac slut, and getting a body to match had uncorked all those years of built up sexual tension, waiting to get out. It wasn't long before I felt something else bubbling to the surface, waiting to get out. It was such a different feeling. Not nearly as powerful as what I was used to, but far more focused and aggressive and satisfying. I let out a series of ladylike grunts and closed my eyes as I crested the edge of pleasure. "Oh my god!" cried a shocked voice. Oh shit. I snapped open my eyes. Standing before me, gently dappled in the golden light of the mid-morning sun, was the most perfect pair of tits I had ever seen. They swayed and jiggled in unison as they hung before me naked, enticing me to play. They were easily larger than a pair of melons, and they were each topped by a perfect strawberry of a nipple. My mouth watered. I had never seen a pair in real life so large that nonetheless sat so naturally high. I had to stop myself from reaching a hand out then and there and grabbing hold. Normally I'd be jealous, but today all I could think about was burying my face between them. I tried to shift my focus elsewhere, anywhere, but it was like struggling to break free of hypnosis. Below the tits, on full display, was a tight and flat belly that bragged of countless yoga classes. No abs, but enough of the suggestion of abs to convey the flexibility and endurance that that tight little body could do. Before my gaze could go any lower, I noticed it. There, just beside the shimmering belly button piercing, lay the creamy remnants of my little foray of self discovery, slowly dripping down like honey onto those shapely bare thighs. "Oh shit," I managed to croak out, "I'm so sorry!" I held out my hands, as much to cover myself as to offer to clean up the mess I had made, only realizing a moment later that touching this perfect creature would probably just make things worse. "Baby," the voice said, laughing, "if you needed a hand you should have just asked!" I looked up, perplexed. I recognized the laugh's cadence, but not its tone. I don't know if it was just my sleep addled brain, the unreality of the situation, or the way the laughter had sent those bountiful boobs bouncing around once more, but it took me what felt like a full minute to make sense of the face I was seeing and the voice I was hearing. This was Evan. This perfect, feminine beauty, this pretty little lust-puppet, this sex in 6-inch heels, was my boyfriend Evan. I could feel my dick hardening. "After what happened last night," he said, smiling, "I figured you'd be pretty hungover, so I made you some breakfast. We have a bunch left over, so let me know if you want more. I wasn't very hungry this morning for some reason." I only then realized that he was carrying a tray of food. My stomach was growling at the smell of bacon. How had I not noticed that? Stupid question. 'Cause boobs, that was why. Man, that device had done a number on me. I hoped this wasn't going to be a problem. For some reason, what threw me for a loop the most was that his voice was different. A part of me had expected that somehow his voice would remain the same, like in those old cartoons, but instead it was now feminine and sexy. Sultry even. I guess I had been too smashed to noticed that last night. I guess it made sense - he had different lungs and a different neck, so of course his voice would be different. I just hadn't expected him to sound so much like a phone-sex operator. Thinking about it had me a little self conscious about my own voice. It hadn't occurred to me to swap it last night. I had always hated my voice and it probably seemed completely out of place on my new body. I made a mental note to fix that the first chance I got. "Here," he said, handing me the tray. I blinked as I realized I had just been gawking at his tits this whole time. "You dig in while I get to work cleaning that mess up for you." He winked as he said this, but my attention was elsewhere. It took us a while before we found a position where I could sit in bed and eat comfortably. I loved my new boobs, but damned if they didn't get in the way. It was only when I felt Evan's hot breath nuzzling against my thigh that I realized what he had meant by 'cleaning up.' Had I mentioned that I was in love? I was in love. It only really dawned on me then that Evan had probably put the aspirin and water out for me as well. He was very sweet like that, always doing the little things. I groaned as I felt his wet little mouth. I guess now he was doing the not- so-little things too. He was prone to going overboard, but he always went out of his way to make me happy. I honestly didn't deserve him, and I had no idea what he had seen in me - especially the old me. Sure, he hadn't been the most handsome guy on campus, but he was a cutie and a sweetheart and any girl would be lucky to have him. This was heaven. Evan had made his go-to for breakfast in bed, but I didn't mind: bacon, pancakes and an omelette, all just the way I like them. He wasn't the best cook in the world, but you could taste the love. Most importantly, there was coffee. I had always joked that I liked my coffee the way I liked my men, strong and sweet, but I guess that was going to change. I guessed now I liked them hot and in large cups. I smiled. The food must have been doing its job because that was the first remotely clever thing to go through my head all morning. The food of course, was only half of the experience. Evan's ministrations were... a unique experience. It was slow and loving and romantic, just like him. He wasn't trying to get me off right away, he just wanted me to feel good. This was my first time getting a blowjob, but from Evan's perspective I've had a dick for as long as we've known each other. I laughed. All those times when he had gone down on me in the past were probably now, in his mind, him sucking me off, and his experience showed. I couldn't see him, but he was doing things to parts of me that I didn't even know existed. He was actually probably better at this than he was eating me out. I idly wondered if that was some quirk of one of the swaps or if having a dick just meant I now had lower standards. It was hot and it was wet and I was surprised and delighted to discover that it was deep as well. My mind kept drifting to the mental image of my beautiful boyfriend with a great big cock - with my great big cock - stuffed down his throat, and I had to keep forcing myself to think of other things to avoid blowing my load way too soon. I liked this. We would have to try this again sometime. Needless to say, I enjoyed my breakfast. When we had both finished, Evan poked his head out from under the blanket. He locked eyes with me as he wiped the drool from his mischievous smile. He gave a big dramatic gulp and winked. "Thanks for breakfast, baby." My dick stirred, already hungry for round three. "Okay, okay," I said, "no more of that." "No more of what?" He blinked. I plopped my head down onto the pillow and spread my arms out, tits bouncing. "Baby, if you keep being all sexy I'm never going to be able to get out of bed." He laughed as he cuddled up next to me. "Maybe." He grinned mischievously. "Maybe that's what I want." "Last night wasn't enough?" I pulled myself in close to give him a kiss. Our tits mashed together. He was so much smaller than he had used to be. Snuggling was going to be different. I guess I was going to be the big spoon from now on? Something inside me didn't really mind. I ran my hand along the skin of his belly. I couldn't believe how soft it was. He gasped gently as my hand went lower. I guess he was a lot more sensitive now too. "Oh, last night was fun," he said as he ground his hips into my hand, "but we were hardly in a state to enjoy it. Besides, its my fault you're hungover, and I wanted to make you feel better." "How is that your fault?" I raised an eyebrow. Sweetheart little martyr that he was, Evan wasn't shy to blame himself when something went wrong. It was cute, but I preferred him when he was confident, so I tried to discourage it. His breath grew heavy as I played around with his new equipment. He was a flurry of wet little moans and gasps as I deftly manoeuvred my fingers. This was another first for me - I'd never fingered anyone who wasn't myself before - but years of lonely teenage practice gave me a rough idea of what I was aiming for, and his cute little cries of approval could guide me the rest of the way. He wasn't normally so vocal, but between his new voice and the fact that I was the one making him sing, it was a major turn on. "You don't remember?" he asked between gasps. "Us swapping our drunkenness around?" I stopped dead in my tracks. Shit. No. I did not remember that. "I don't think you were touching the device, so you might not even realize what was happening." He continued, nuzzling my neck, obviously wanting me to continue. "I said I was way too smashed to go again, and you said we could fix that." He shrugged gently. "I don't really know how to use the device that well, but I figured it worked 'cause you passed out real hard not too long after." He laughed. His tits jiggled tantalizingly. "I guess it makes sense - a jock body like this can probably hold its booze pretty well." I wracked my brain for the memory, but it was all cloudy. This was the first time, I realized, that I had been unaware of the changes. I tried thinking back to how much I'd drank the night before and compared it to how smashed I remembered feeling, but nothing unusual stood out to me. Still, it was intensely unsettling. Luckily, I didn't have to go far to find a distraction. As I continued my ministrations, I took one of Evan's nipples into my mouth and began to play with it with my tongue. This was something I had no experience with, but damned if it wasn't now all I could seem to think about. He mewled in appreciation. I've never been what you'd call a particular passive partner, but at that moment all I wanted was to skip all this slow and romantic foreplay and jump straight to the main course. I felt like a wolf waiting to devour a sheep. Again, i couldn't help but wonder if this was a side effect of the device or if this had all simply awakened some ancient hunger within me. Either way, I was starting to find my passion difficult to contain. "It's good though," he continued as I moved my free hand to the perfect slope that was his free tit, "that you passed out in bed. I don't know if this body can really lift you all that well." He arched his back and groaned involuntarily as I probed a weak spot. "I'll be honest, I expected it to be stronger. And it's a little annoying not being able to reach the high shelves while cooking," he gasped. "But I suppose that's why the guy wore such high heels." "Oh?" I gave him a teasing smile, "do you not like this body?" I gave it a pluck. "No," he moaned. "I love it, it's just that there's lots of little inconvenient differences I've been noticing." "Like what?" I probed. "Well, my chest keeps getting in the way of everything, for starters." Having a pair of my own, I could believe that. Looking at them however, that seemed like such a small price to pay. "Let's just say I'm glad I wore an apron, cause I was sticking out right over the bacon pan." Visions of his voluptuous body, naked save an apron danced in my head. A fantasy formed before me of me bending him over the kitchen sink and just sticking it in then and there. I redoubled my efforts down below. "And... and... ah..." The rest of the conversation was cut short. I made a game of it. Whenever he tried to speak I would interrupt him with a surgically timed pinch or caress. He lasted much longer than I expected before he finally let out a low cry and clamped down tightly with his legs, overwhelmed with pleasure. "Tell you what," I said, still high on sexual dominance. "Let's cuddle up for a bit, then when you feel like you're ready to go again, we can go take a shower together before we get started on the day, okay?" He nodded, weakly. I was oddly jealous. I don't think I had ever enjoyed sex that much when I had a pussy, and this was all just playing around. As we lay there enjoying each others warmth, I made a mental list of all the things I was going to do to that body before we left the house. Eventually, as it always does, the need to use the bathroom surpassed my ability to just revel in the moment and I was forced to actually get out of bed. Walking around in my new body for the first time without heels, I was caught off-guard by how much taller I now was. I made a note of how my longer legs were giving me a longer stride, and how I could feel my body sway in novel ways to maintain the balance. Despite these differences walking seemed perfectly natural. My gait had apparently changed to match my new body. It didn't occur to me until after that I had missed my chance to try peeing standing up. When I returned, Evan was digging through his closet, bent at the waist and giving me a perfect view of his perfect ass. I stood there in the doorway and admired the view, biting my lip to suppress the urge to reach over and smack it. He'd probably find that weird. Actually, come to think of it, he probably found the way I played with his tits weird. He clearly thought they were very masculine, so maybe my fondling them wasn't so unusual, but did he know he had tits? Or did he just think he had super- muscular pecs? When I was nibbling on his big eager nipples, did he find that weird? Maybe he enjoyed it too much to care. I wondered how he'd feel if I suggested anal... "We need to hit the mall later." he said, apparently having heard me come in. His breasts swayed as he turned. I snapped out of my daydream and struggled to draw my eyes up to his face for once. "What?" I asked. "None of our clothes fit." He held up a pair of his old jeans. "I'm guessing only the baggier stuff even comes close. Plus, I wouldn't mind getting some athletic tape or something," he cupped his boobs with one arm as he said this, "'cause I swear I haven't been able to get my chest to stop jiggling all morning." I glanced over at the device sitting on the far bedside table. I chastised myself for thinking that it would have somehow made everything simply work without too much complication. "It must be capable of doing clothes," Evan added, "cause all those clubbing clothes came along yesterday when I got this body, but frankly that thong needs a good long wash before I'd wear it again." "There must be something that fits," I said unhelpfully. As much as I was coming to enjoy my sexy naked boyfriend, I suppose we did need to leave the house at some point. As if to illustrate his point, Evan pulled one of his button-up shirts out of his closet - it was one of the bigger ones from before he lost weight - and while most of it draped sexily over his now hyper-feminine form, he simply couldn't squeeze the buttons together over his enormous tits. I felt a stirring down below. Did he know what the sight of him was doing to me? Was he doing this on purpose? He had to be doing that on purpose. "It's also kinda weird," he added. "You know all those clothes you left here for when you stay overnight? They all look like they fit someone else entirely. I mean, l can swear I remember you wearing each and every article here, and them all fitting your current body, but there's no way any of this stuff would fit you comfortably." He gave up trying to close his shirt and put his hands on his hips. He was clearly frustrated, but the way his button-up framed his breasts made it difficult to concentrate. I went over and picked up the device. It was surprisingly warm to the touch. "I guess swapping someone's whole wardrobe is a different kind of swap than just swapping bodies with them?" I speculated, looking at the dials curiously. "Is that even a thing you can do?" he asked, turning back to the closet. "Like, the clothes we're wearing sure, but what about all the stuff back at your place?" I mischievous grin crossed my face. There was only one way to find out. I felt, rather than heard, the noise the device made as I pushed the button. It was akin to the sound of lightning arcing on a Jacob's ladder, a zzzzttttt sound, but it seemed to reverberate in the back of my head. It was hard to tell if it was the sound of being torn asunder according to my whims, or some kind of loose wire in the casing. When I looked back up, Evan was still digging through the closet, though now he was once again naked. It took me a few seconds to realize his shirt had made its way onto my body. It fit me a little better than it did him, but my tits were even bigger than Evan's, if perhaps not quite as bouncy, so I somehow doubted I'd get much serious use out of it. I grinned and made a mental note that we'd have to do a jiggle comparison later. I peaked over Evan's shoulder. Whereas before his closet was a spartan gallery of boring men's clothes surrounding the one small corner of stuff I kept there for nights like this, it seemed now to be exactly the opposite. The drawers were now overflowing with blouses and skirts and panties, all of which, I surmised, now belonged to Evan. Buried somewhere in there I could see a few pairs of mens t-shirts and loose jeans that I now assumbed belonged to me. "Okay, that's annoying," he said, holding one of my old bras up to his chest. "None of my bras fit." He was right, it seemed almost comically small. "We definitely need to swing by the Victoria's Secret." My dick throbbed as my mind was suddenly filled with mental images of my boyfriend dancing around for me in sensuous, skimpy lingerie. "Good idea," I laughed, "but something tells me we're going to have trouble finding bras in our size." I cupped my boobs. This was, of course, an understatement. "Wait, what?" He turned and gave me a strange look. "Huh?" "You want to start wearing a bra?" He raised an eyebrow. "What's so wrong about that?" I furrowed my brow as I looked down at my exposed chest. "I..." he stopped to consider his words carefully. "I mean, it's fine." He was doing his best to stifle a giggle and look genuine. "Baby, you know I'm going to be there to support you no matter what. I just didn't know you were into that kind of thing." He smiled warmly. "I'm glad you can open up to me about it." Okay, that was a little weird. Was me wanting to wear a bra now like a guy crossdressing or something? Was this going to cause problems if I tried to wear cute clothes? I imagined all the weird judgemental stares I'd get if that was the case, but if worse came to worse I figured I could always swap back, right? "Well," I gave a casual shrug as I grabbed my boobs dramatically, "I'm sure as hell not going braless with these puppies." I suppose I could have just swapped our wardrobes back now, or explained what I had done, but there was this kind of strange thrill in him not knowing. It was the same thing that had kept me from telling him that the dick I was so proudly sporting was, in fact, his own, or that he was walking around in the body of some big-titted nympho slut none the wiser. I couldn't begin to describe the rush it gave me. It was all just so... hot. Plus, I really wanted to see him in lingerie. "I think you're right, baby," I said, changing the subject. "We're probably both going to have to get completely new wardrobes. At least it'll be a good opportunity to show off our new bodies. And it'll be a great chance to test out the device some more." "I guess," he said, looking at himself appraisingly in the mirror on the inside of the closet door. "I'd rather not buy too much though. It just seems like such a waste to buy clothes for a body I'm still not super sold on yet, you know?" "Well you need something," I said, slipping my hand around his waist and pressing my tits into his back. "You can't just go around topless all day." He smiled and flexed his arms, making his boobs bounce. "Is that a challenge?" I didn't argue. These things were works of art. It would be a crime to cover those babies up, a disservice to all mankind. I could feel him blush as I started to nibble at his ear, and then blush harder as I cupped his tits, gently stroking his great big nipples with my thumbs, feeling them growing erect. We both stared into the mirror, his nakedness and arousal on full display. He wasn't normally a blusher, but I wasn't complaining. It seemed to me that he was definitely taking on the more passive sexual role. I wondered if that was because of his new body or just a natural reaction to me being more aggressive. Either way, I liked it. He couldn't see how hard I had gotten, but I made sure he could feel it. "How about we go take that shower now?" he suggested softly as he turned around. "And we worry about all this a little later?" He leaned his body into mine, rubbing our tits together. I grinned as I bent down to give him a kiss. As it turned out, it wasn't such a rough morning after all. To Be Continued In Part 3 - Swap Till You Drop!