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Re: Witchy Wife: Part 2
Author: dan	April 25, 2002 at 00:47:54
in reply to: Witchy Wife: Part 2 posted by slimv on April 22, 2002 at 15:05:17

	> nice follow up slim......more coming? all of your stories have been good...... > > Margie lifted her head and looked at the alarm clock. A > smile crossed her lips as she noticed she was on > > the other side of the bed now. It had taken less than > an hour for the transformation to take place. She > > looked beside her at the sleeping soul inhabiting her > > used up flesh. What would Rick think when he > > realized how drastically his life had changed? > > Something stiff and pleasurable shifted between > > her thighs and she reached to investigate. What a > > weapon she thought, as she stroked Rick’s engorged > > cock. She had measured it once out of curiosity and > it had weighed in at 7 ½ inches. Testosterone > > flooded her brain as she continued to touch her self while > breathing in large gulps of air. > > The stench of stale tobacco assaulted her non-smoker’s > > sense of smell. She smiled as she understood Rick’s > complaints. Yes it did smell, but it didn’t smell bad > > to her. She breathed in deep and felt her chest expand > > fully. What a difference she thought. > Beside her Rick was wheezing in his sleep. Margie > > listened to the sound of his lungs as they struggled > > to expand. She imagined what they must look like > > after more than 30 years of smoking four packs a day. > > She had been awake for at least ten minutes and > > hadn’t smoked a cigarette yet. That was like a > > record while she was smoking, but this wasn’t > > her body. These weren’t her lungs. > > Rick stirred in his sleep as he changed positions coming to > rest on his back, giving Margie a good view of the > large-saggy breasts that had once > > been hers. What did he see in her, she > > wondered as studied the wrinkles in his skin. The penis > between her thighs ached for attention as she pondered > these thoughts and suddenly the answers became quite clear. > > Still in a state of sleep, Rick turned as he felt a light > pressure descending on his chest and stomach. He seemed > unable to move to the left or to the right. > > It was as if something was blocking his way. He > > didn’t open his eyes until he felt the penetration, slow > but deep until finally it had filled him > > completely. Whatever it was felt nice, perhaps it > was a dream. But why would the face looking down > on him be his own? Why would he be having a dream > > about fucking himself? > > There was weighted rhythm above him and he began to move > his hips in time with whoever was setting the > > pace. Nice, he thought. This is so nice. > > The humping began to quicken with every new thrust. > > Sleep began fading to wakefulness. The taste in his > > mouth was awful, as if he’d been eating charcoal and > > he felt as if he was suffocating. The deeper he breathed > > the harder it hurt. > > With eyes wide open he looked into the face that was his > > own, a face in angst on a tightly stretched throat. A face > that was in the middle of orgasm. His breaths became > more shallow. This wasn’t right. Whatever was happening > was not right but he couldn’t stop now. The sound of his > > teeth clenching together echoed inside his head as his > muscles tensed beneath the orgasmic waves that radiated > throughout tired body. > > Two hundred pounds of dead weight fell upon his chest only > > to roll off. Wetness formed at the corner of his eyes. Though > > he didn’t understand it, he knew he’d been raped. > > He wasn’t the kind of guy that cried. These were like no > emotions he had ever felt. Rather than facing the truth, he > turned away and sobbed into his pillow. The had upon his > shoulder was big. The voice calling his name was manly yet > > gentle. > > The voice beside him asked if he was OK and he wondered > > if he was. He wasn’t feeling him self. He felt awful. > Besides that, something else wasn’t right. He felt nauseous > and his skin crawled. He felt as if he needed something.
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