Date: Thu, 12 Mar 2009 13:33:57 -0700
From: secondary2@live.ca
Subject: MOTHERFUCKER PART I

I am a thirty-eight-year-old woman lying on my back in a Las Vegas Hotel
room. My flimsy pyjama shorts are tangled around my left ankle and my
nightshirt is off my shoulders, sitting bunched up around my waist. My
light brown hair is spread out on the mattress under my head. There is a
twenty-two year old man above me on the bed, and I am biting my lower lip
slightly as I wrap my legs around his hips. He is positioning his erect
cock at the opening to my slippery pussy. I grab his ass as he pushes
forward slowly, the head of his tool pressing against my slit. I sigh and
close my eyes as he pops inside me. I gradually feel him slide into my
body, stretching and filling me. I pull his closer to me as his member
pokes deep into my canal, his pubic hair mashing into me as he completes
his penetration. My pussy is so wet it is one smooth motion.

My son, who is a year younger than the man who had just slid his dick into
me, is downstairs at the casino somewhere while this is happening. My young
lover begins to withdraw his penis, only to hunch into me again, shoving it
a little deeper. He bends his head down to take one of my nipples into his
mouth as he begins to fuck me, his other hands playing with my other large
breast. My sigh turns into a whimper as I run a hand through his hair,
pushing my hips up to meet his thrusts. Despite my age and my paternity, I
have never felt anything like this before; everything is new and
bewildering. This is because...

Two days earlier I was a twenty-two year old man who had just arrived in a
Las Vegas Hotel room with a friend of mine who was a year younger, and his
mother. My name was Rick, my friend's name was Paul, and his mother was
named Pauline. I guess she thought it was cool at the time to give her son
the masculine version of her own name, it seemed a bit uncreative to me but
who was I to judge. I was tagging along on this trip which was half a
celebration of Paul turning twenty-one and half Pauline wanting to have fun
herself.

I had always had a bit of a thing for Pauline, clich‚' as the whole
'friend's hot mom' thing is. She had kept herself in shape over the years
and had an impressive body for someone near forty. Her large breasts didn't
sag too much and the body fat she had served to make her curvier. Her legs
were fairly tones, as was her stomach, and she did her make-up
tastefully. Her long brown hair was always combed neatly and had just a
little bit of a wave to it, her fingernails were always glossed without
being painted, and she usually wore clothes that showed off her body just a
little more than would be appropriate.

I would often catch myself checking out her ample cleavage or watching her
ass as she walked away. I don't think Paul really noticed, or if he did he
never let on. I never really had any intention to try and sleep with
Pauline, though the mood between us could sometimes drift into
flirtatious. She would brush me hair sometimes, or deliberately offer views
of her chest. Basically she had a bit of a cougar streak and would
insinuate things occasionally. Since she was my friend's mom it seemed
wrong to actually entertain serious thoughts about going to bed with her,
though little fantasies would pop into my head from time to time. She had
taken an adjoining room to us in the hotel, and as we unpacked I wondered
how the rest of our trip would play out.

The first day was fairly uneventful, just a quick look over the town after
settling in to the hotel. We came back to the rooms around ten and got
ready to go to bed. After washing up and getting undressed I climbed into
my bed. Paul and I chatted casually for a bit before drifting off and
deciding to sleep. As I lay down and closed my eyes my mind drifted to his
mother in the next room. The last thought I had before slipping into
darkness was that under different circumstances I would love to spend this
trip in her bed.

I awoke late with the sun peeking through the thick curtains. It took me a
moment to realise that something was wrong. I noticed I was in the bed on
the far side of the room. I began to wonder how I got into Paul's bed,
beginning to feel embarrassed. Then I became aware of something else; the
room was backwards. The whole place was flipped from the way I remembered
it the night before. I was really baffled now, and looked over to see that
the other bed in the room was empty. It was then, as I sat up, that I felt
the tug on my chest and the lock of hair fell over my face.

 I threw back the covers and looked down at myself. Enclosed in a satin
nightshirt was a pair of ample tits, I had to move my head to see past them
to the rest of my body. Sticking out of a pair of matching shorts were two
hairless legs, a flat stomach and wide hips. I cupped one of the breasts
that were attached to my chest, feeling its weight. There was no doubt that
I now sported a pair of large titties. I got out of bed, stumbling a little
as I did so, and went to the mirror. What I saw was Pauline in her
nightclothes, and she was staring back at me with a wild and confused look
of her face. Just then I heard a knock on the adjoining door. I hesitated a
moment, then rushed over and opened it.

On the other side I saw myself, dressed only in my boxer shorts, looking at
me with shock. It was pretty apparent; Pauline and I had swapped bodies
somehow. We both started to speak at the same time, rambling. "What's going
on?" I asked, starting at hearing her voice come out of my mouth. "I have
no idea." She answered. "Where's Paul." I went on. "He's downstairs getting
breakfast; I told him I would meet him in a minute." She answered. "How and
why did this happen?" I stammered. We babbled for a while, moving around
the two rooms.

Eventually we got to the point of trying to recall the last thing that
happened before we fell asleep. "Nothing happened," she said, "I just got
into bed and - " She stopped abruptly. I suddenly remembered my last
thought before dozing off. I remembered thinking that I wanted to spend the
trip in her bed. "Wait," I said what was the last thing you thought of?"
she hesitated, then sighed and told me. "I thought that I would be fun to
get into your shorts on this trip." I told her how I had thought of
something that was similar and equally ambiguous in its phrasing. "How
could thinking similar things at the same time make what we thought of come
true, especially in a way we didn't intend?" she asked. I had no answer,
but it was the only theory we had.

"So the theory is that our badly phrased wishes came true just for this
trip and when we're leaving for home everything will go back to normal?"
She said, adding, "That's pretty flimsy." I shrugged. "What else can we do,
we have no other clues whatsoever, unless there is something you are not
telling me." We agreed we had no choice bit to wait and see, no matter how
irresponsible it seemed. We also decided not to tell Paul, since he would
never believe us anyway and even if he did it would be embarrassing to
explain. And so, with a knot in my stomach, I prepared to spend the next
week as a thirty-eight-year-old single mother. Pauline definitely seemed to
get the good side of the swap, since she was now sixteen years younger.

We decided to get dressed and meet Paul downstairs. I showered quickly,
trying to ignore my new body, and combed and dried my hair, which seemed to
take forever. I tried not to notice how my tits jiggled as I stepped, or
how my hips swayed from side to side. I begrudgingly chose some clothes out
of Pauline's suitcase. As I mentioned, she tended to dress rather
revealingly, especially since she was on vacation. My selection was
minimal, and the least revealing thing there was ended up being a pair of
tight jeans and a short sleeved shirt with a low neckline. I struggled my
way into one of her bras, since I didn't want my large jugs bouncing so
much, and slipped into a pair of black silk panties. I then put of the rest
of the clothes I had pulled out and found a pair of shoes without hells to
wear. I looked at myself in the mirror and saw an older woman with cleavage
you couldn't miss. I grumbled to myself as I left the room.

 I was not looking forward to pretending to be Paul's mother...