Turnabout Page 2

  “How?” Fee responded, because she wanted to know.

  He seemed barely able to speak, as if he, too, were overwhelmed by what was happening to his body. “So hot…” His hand moved, wavering, to lie against his stomach. It was a strangely feminine gesture, Fee thought, although it struck her it was a strange thought to have, considering it was a woman’s hand, a woman’s body. She watched the hand move against the soft curve of the belly, and Fee shifted her own, male hand to cover it.

  She had always hated that soft, fleshy curve of her belly that seemed to her to be too much, too round. Under her hand, though, it just felt soft, feminine. The heat below, the drifting scent of readiness…

  Closing her eyes, she let her body take over. Mal’s body, his hands that knew her as well as she knew herself. Everything under her fingers felt familiar, and they knew where to go without her conscious direction.

  He knew her. Every inch of her. She let the hands take over.

  Freed -- mostly -- from her conscious control, Mal’s body pushed Fee back into the bed. Fee marveled at the strength, the ease with which she overcame Mal. Intellectually she knew Mal was stronger, but the sense of power still caught her off-guard. Beneath her, Mal met her gaze in wide-eyed shock, obviously taken aback. Fee shifted over him, pinning the soft, full, female body to the bed. Mal’s legs spread under her, and she felt sudden hot, wet heat on her cock.

  She froze. This was… strange. Well, everything was strange, but this was strangest. The cock… her cock… Mal’s cock. It hardly seemed a part of her body. It was more than just the unfamiliarity of it; it seemed to be its own entity, controlled by its own separate instincts. It twitched toward the heat of Mal’s open, female body. As if the thick, insistent organ were a divining rod seeking much-needed nourishment, the rest of the body moved to follow. No conscious direction needed. It just… moved. And before she could stop it, it was halfway inside that deep, hot channel, and Mal gasped, flinched, and clenched under her.

  “Oh, my God,” Fee breathed. Realizing what was happening, she forced herself to stop. It was a sheer, and incredibly difficult, act of will. Mal was staring up at her, eyes wide.

  “Holy fuck,” he said, and in Fee’s light, feminine voice, it sounded so incongruous Fee nearly laughed.

  She couldn’t, though. Not with her entire thinking brain subsumed by the incredibly intense sensation of being buried half-cock deep in hot vagina.

  God, no wonder men wanted this all the time. It was without question the most intense thing Fee had ever experienced.

  By the look on Mal’s borrowed face, though, it seemed he was experiencing a similar revelation. His soft, full lips parted, his tongue touching his upper teeth, then he said, in a barely audible murmur, “Don’t stop.”

  Slowly, a bit awkward with the unfamiliarity of the movement, Fee moved forward, sinking herself to the hilt in Mal’s hot body. “Relax,” she whispered -- he’d clenched up so much she was having a hard time penetrating all the way.

  Mal nodded, and the tightly contracted muscles eased. With the resistance gone, Fee pushed in suddenly, harder and faster than she’d intended. Mal gasped and tightened up again.

  “Relax,” she repeated.

  “No. It feels better this way.”

  That gave Fee pause. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

  “A little.” An honest enough answer, Fee thought. Mal reached up, cupping her face. “Fuck me, Fee.”

  The rough language, rather than turning her off as it might have had she been in her own body, instead sent her desire flaring higher. Experimentally, she tilted her hips back, withdrawing a bit, then thrusting in again.

  God, it felt good. The friction, the drag, the tightness, the heat. It overwhelmed her, and before she realized what was happening, the rising need formed itself into a pulsating mass at the base of her spine and exploded. Her hips bucked, spearing the mindless, demanding cock even deeper inside Mal. Mal jerked and whimpered, his hands clutching at Fee’s shoulders.

  Fee wasn’t sure what to do -- although at this point she couldn’t really do anything other than ride the wave. Her turgid, pulsating cock sat firmly trapped in Mal’s body, which had clenched down hard. And suddenly Mal whimpered again, fingers digging hard into Fee’s shoulders, and she could feel the walls of muscle undulate along the full length of her dick. It was just another, impossibly intense layer of sensation on top of a morass of feelings she already couldn’t quite manage to assimilate. It occurred to her maybe this hadn’t been the best way to initiate either of them into this particular out-of-body-into-another-body experience.

  Then the last of the almost painfully intense, brain-shredding orgasm pulsed out of her, and she couldn’t think much of anything.

  Chapter Three

  Mal looked up into his own face, held suspended above him, and wondered if he always looked that idiotic when he was having an orgasm. His face was lax, his mouth hanging open, and there was a look of complete shock on his face.

  He was also pretty sure he was drooling.

  He probably shouldn’t be too critical, though. Judging by the way he felt right now, Fee’s expression probably looked just as ridiculous.

  Not in a million years would he have imagined it would feel like this. Of course, he never would have imagined he’d be in this position, but that was too much for him to comprehend on any level at the moment.

  Right now, it was all he could do to comprehend the sensations flooding his borrowed body. The arousal he’d experienced, the slow build to climax, had been different from anything he’d ever felt before. At first, he’d thought it would never grow to the heights he was accustomed to. It just hadn’t seemed as sharp, as powerful, as it was in his own body.

  Maybe just the lack of a cock had thrown him. After all, the whole process was considerably more obvious when you had a hungry, erect stalk sprouting out of your body. It wasn’t the same when the signs were more subtle, tiptoeing in on waves of heat and dampness and subtle tingling.

  Not to mention the cramps. What the hell was up with that?

  But when that cock had shoved inside him, riding on a cushion of wetness and heat -- damn. That was nothing like he’d ever felt before. His body -- Fee’s body -- never wanted that thing to come out of it. It was falling away, though, shrinking inside, as that ridiculous expression began to fade from the familiar face above him.

  “Are you okay?” Fee asked him. The concern on the masculine features feminized them somehow, making it easier to remember Fee was behind those eyes. As familiar as the face was, it also wasn’t. It was completely different from looking into a mirror, and Mal found it uncomfortable.

  “Yeah. Yeah, I’m… fine.” He clenched his inner muscles again, trying to hold the shrinking cock inside him, to no avail. The actual clenching felt good, though, creating an aroused tension inside him.

  “I didn’t… hurt you?”

  Mal almost scoffed at the question, then noticed the genuine concern in Fee’s eyes. He reached up and cupped her face. Slim, paler, feminine fingers curled against the slightly darker, more masculine textures and lines of Fee’s face.

  “No, Fee. You didn’t hurt me. Not a bit of it. It was… it was good.”

  She frowned. “Just good?”

  He chuckled. “Okay, more than good. It was fan-fucking-tastic.”

  Fee punched him lightly in the shoulder. “Stop that.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Well, good, then.”

  “How was it for you?”

  Fee’s cock had shrunk away and out by now, and she rolled off him to lie next to him. Mal turned automatically toward her, to embrace her, but it seemed more natural, now, for her to hold him, sheltering him with her now larger form.

  “It was… I felt like I had no control over it.” This seemed to concern her. Mal tipped his head, feeling his long hair drift over his shoulders as he moved.

  “You’re not supposed to have control. Well, not completely.”

  “No.” She fr
owned. “It just… It was so much. So intense.”

  “Yes.”

  “I wasn’t sure I could stop. But I did.”

  Mal smiled. “It’s hard to stop when there’s such a beautiful woman involved.”

  He wasn’t trying to be flip, but a strange expression flittered over Fee’s face. He had the distinct feeling she didn’t believe him.

  Before he could say anything else, the distinct sound of someone’s stomach growling interrupted his thoughts. He looked at Fee, who looked back at him, then gave him a wry smile.

  “That was me,” she said.

  “Or me,” he replied. “Depends on how you look at it.”

  She sighed, then rolled to a sitting position on the bed. “I’ll go make breakfast.”

  * * *

  He supposed it was narrow-minded of him to feel like he should be making breakfast just because he happened to be wearing the female body of the couple. But something in him wanted to get up and help -- or, better yet, take over -- as Fee started scrambling eggs and making toast.

  Fee, on the other hand, didn’t seem quite as comfortable with it as she usually did. Her movements while whisking the eggs seemed a little awkward, not quite the smooth, graceful movements he was used to seeing. And if she felt inside his body the same way he felt in hers, it was no wonder she seemed a little awkward.

  It was strange, watching his own body from outside it. He looked different. Lankier in some places, heavier in others. He’d always seen himself as tall and lean, strong and masculine. He didn’t think much about it, really, other than that he was manly and not unattractive. He was who he was, and that was all there was to it.

  Fee put eggs and toast on the table in front of him, as well as some microwaved bacon and a glass of milk. The coffee had just finished brewing; she returned to the counter to get that ready.

  Mal picked up his fork and took a bite. Almost immediately, he felt like he was doing something he shouldn’t. He’d been prepared to tuck in for a good, hearty breakfast, but somehow he just couldn’t. Each bite made him feel heavy, almost depressed.

  Fee sat down across from him with her own breakfast and set a cup of coffee in front of him. “Eggs okay?”

  “They taste fine.” They did. They were great -- just the right amount of moisture, just the right soft, fluffy texture.

  “Then eat up.” Fee took a bite of her own eggs, followed by a bite of bacon.

  “I…” He wasn’t sure how to put what he was feeling into words. “They make me feel fat.”

  To his surprise, Fee’s responding chuckle was more understanding than amused. “They’ll make you feel fatter if you don’t hit the treadmill later.”

  “Why did you make these?” Mal felt personally affronted somehow. “Did you do it just to torture me?”

  “No. Why would I do that?” Fee looked hurt. “I made them because I thought you’d like them.”

  “I do like them. But --” He broke off. “Do you always feel this way? Like it’s wrong just to eat a normal breakfast?”

  Fee laid her fork down, chewing slowly. “I don’t right now.”

  It was a non-answer, but Mal sensed it was the only answer he was going to get. He picked up his toast, finished that and his cup of coffee, and left the rest.

  * * *

  They both called in sick, neither willing to try to tackle the other’s job. It seemed like just asking for trouble. Not until they’d both addressed that situation did Mal finally turn to Fee and ask again the obvious question.

  “How the hell did this happen?”

  “I don’t know.” But she looked away and Mal was familiar enough with his own face to know that quick sideways glance meant she was equivocating.

  “You think you might, though,” he pressed.

  She looked back at him, his own familiar green-brown eyes watching him. “You won’t believe it.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Just tell me.”

  So she did. And Mal regarded her with increasing incredulity as she told him about the man at the bar, and the mysterious word, “Granted,” floating out behind them as they left.

  “You have got to be shitting me,” he said when she was done.

  “I told you you wouldn’t believe me.” She looked and sounded petulant. Mal decided that wasn’t a good look for him and made a mental note not to pout in the future.

  “Well, it’s a weird story, you’ve got to admit.”

  “I didn’t say it wasn’t.” She glanced down at herself. “How could it not be?”

  Mal frowned. “Well. That’s a valid point. So what do we do?”

  Fee shrugged. “I think the bar would be a good place to start.”

  “All right, then. Let’s start there.”

  Chapter Four

  As it turned out, the bar didn’t open until two p.m. They trekked back home, still lacking answers. Mal, feeling weirdly twitchy, and like he’d eaten too much even though he’d barely touched most of his breakfast, got on the treadmill and walked.

  Fee settled on the couch and picked up the remote. After a while, she looked at Mal, trudging away on the treadmill.

  “Why the fuck,” she said, “am I watching ESPN?” She turned off the TV and sat for a while, frowning.

  Note to self, thought Mal. No brooding.

  Looking down at the monitor on the treadmill, he realized he’d hit the point where he usually needed to stop, or at least take a break. But his borrowed body, in spite of the added awkwardness of unfamiliarity and the weight of Fee’s breasts, hadn’t even worked up a sweat yet.

  He slowed down his pace, making a show of rolling his neck and stretching his arms. After a few seconds of posturing, which Fee seemed to completely ignore, he dismounted the treadmill.

  “Man, what a workout,” he said. “I’d better hit the shower.”

  Fee gave him a sidelong look. “You’ve got to be kidding. I do twice that every morning before breakfast.”

  “No wonder you’re never in bed for morning nookie.” He tried to say it lightly, but it came out almost harsh.

  She gave him a sharp look. “I have to stay in shape.”

  “You look fine to me.” Thinking to break the tension before it grew too much, he grinned and cupped his newly acquired breasts. “Feel fine, too.”

  She shook her head. He chuckled at his own cleverness and headed for the shower.

  He was in the bathroom, admiring Fee’s body in the mirror, and playing with her nipples -- he couldn’t get over how good that felt -- when Fee opened the door and joined him. She leaned one square hip -- a nice, manly posture, he noted -- against the counter and eyed him narrowly.

  Mal looked at her. Note to self -- that’s an intimidating look. He’d have to remember that for future reference. “Can I help you?”

  Resting one elbow on her hip and folding her hands, Fee said, “Yes. I want you to suck my cock.”

  “Huh?”

  “I said I want you to suck my cock. I always wondered why that was such a damn big deal -- now’s my chance to find out.”

  “Fee…” He looked her in the eye, but she looked right back, holding the challenge.

  “You have a choice,” she told him sternly. “I can put it in your mouth or I can put it in your ass. Because I’ve always wondered why that was such a damn big deal, too.”

  “Mouth it is, then,” he said without hesitation. Regardless of whose body he was in, he didn’t really want anything in his ass. At all. Belatedly he realized that was technically ridiculous, since he’d ass-fucked Fee more than once, and she’d seemed to like it. He certainly wouldn’t have done it more than once if she hadn’t. But even if this body didn’t mind, the thought of being on the receiving end made him a little queasy.

  Fee shook her head, chuckling. “You’re a wimp, Mal.”

  “What of it?”

  “Just sayin’.”

  They looked at each other for a few long seconds.

  “Well?” Fee finally said.

  “Well, what?�
��

  “Come over here and undress me.”

  Mal was hesitant. He wasn’t sure why -- they’d had sex once already in this predicament. Maybe it just seemed too calculated, with her giving him orders. The first time had been more spontaneous.

  “Mal.” Her voice was low, commanding. Mal responded to it automatically, moving toward her. She loomed over him a little, and he glanced up at her, hoping he wasn’t quite so deliberately intimidating with her.

  Then she took his face in her hands and kissed him, firmly, commandingly. Dampness grew hot between his legs, and he moaned. “God, Fee.” She seemed to have fallen easily into the role of dominant male, one Mal wasn’t entirely sure he liked now that he was in the body of the submissive-by-default female.

  It was hard to protest, though, when she was kissing him like that, deep and hard, tongue pushing into his mouth to dance inside it. He felt like he was melting.

  Fee’s big, square hand caught his and clasped it, then directed it to her waistband. Oh, right. He was supposed to be taking her clothes off. Way to stay focused. He edged the buttons open on the button-fly jeans she wore. Underneath, she’d donned a pair of his cotton boxer-briefs. Her cock -- my cock, dammit -- strained in a hard ridge against the soft cloth. It was hot, and it twitched as he touched it.

  Mal stared at the cock. Of course he’d seen it any number of times -- it was his, after all -- but from this angle it seemed… He hated to admit it, but it seemed smaller. It also didn’t look much like something he wanted in his mouth.

  He paused for a moment, just holding it. It had been one thing to lie back in the pillows and let Fee fuck him, letting both bodies follow the natural order of things, but suddenly he wasn’t sure he could voluntarily go to his knees and take that twitching member into his mouth.

  Fee’s hands pressed flat against his ass, tucking him a little closer to her. He looked up, meeting her gaze. She looked concerned.

  “Mal?” Leaning forward, she brushed a kiss over his lips. “I just want to know what it feels like.”

  The imperious tone had left her voice; she sounded more polite now. The look in her eyes, though, held concern, and it was this that made him finally nod and lower himself to his knees.