Motherfucker

By William Steps

Published on Mar 12, 2009

Transgender

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...

Next: Chapter 2


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