Chemical Reaction

Chemical Reaction

The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed.  

“Ahhh!” Michelle cried out, slamming her phone onto the table she and her friends were having lunch at.

At first, neither of them took a glance, just happily munching on their meals until Michelle cleared her throat and said, “Umm, UTV is having a concern next month! In our state!”

“AAAAHHHH!”

Finally, the response it deserves, Michelle thought as her friends joined in the shrieks.

“I’ve been waiting years for them to tour this dump,” Michelle’s friend, Cindy, said. “Can you believe it?”

“I’m practically dying,” their other friend, a girl who preferred to go by Nebula, said in a monotone voice. “But like, in a good way. Never thought UTV would ever have a comeback tour and stop by here in the armpit of the nation.” Nebula took the phone and eagerly began to read through the website details.

Cindy set her boba tea down and let out another quick shriek. “I was just watching their last tour the other night. It must be fate that this is happening.” She took Michelle’s hand, oblivious to Michelle’s blush, and cheered. “Luckily we got UTV’s number one fan as a bestie, huh, Nebby?”

Nebula cringed at the nickname but didn’t respond. Her attention too focused on the phone as her grimace grew. “Uh, Nebby? Everything ok?” Michelle asked.

“No, it isn’t. This concert’s being held on the other side of the goddamn state and neither of us have a car.” Nebula slammed the phone on the table and crossed her arms. “The universe just loves giving me hope just to dash them at the last second.” Looking up at the sky, she said, “Wouldn’t it be easier to just kill me already?”

Michelle gasped and took the phone back. Nebula was right. It’d take hours on the highway to reach the concert site and on top of that they’d probably need to stay a night at a nearby hotel to save up on having to do two back and forth trips. None of their parents would trust the three with cars or staying a hotel by themselves. By now, the fantasy of UTV playing in front of her was slowly growing further and further away—just out of reach. “This… can’t be happening.”

Cindy scowled and slammed her hands on the table, not caring at the glares she kept receiving. “Fucking—goddamn—motherfucking! Ahh!” At first it seemed as though she would exploded, but settled for merely lying down on the table, sighing. “What’s the point of being 18 when you can’t even drink or have a car or anything?”

“Such is the plight of the young woman,” said Nebula. “We have rights but we don’t have rights.”

“Then let’s take our rights back.” Michelle stood up from her chair, glaring defiantly at whatever god or demon decided to fuck with her chances to taste UTV’s sweat live on concert while they played. “You guys forget about my special little brew?”

Nebula and Cindy stared at her blankly before gasping. They both grinned, sharing an excited glint in their eyes. “Girl, you never fail to disappoint me,” said Cindy, shining like the sun.

“And Michelle gives us another ray of hope,” Nebula said like a prayer. “Hard to believe a saint walks among us.”

“Full moon’s in a few weeks. So we got plenty of time to get the potion ready.”

“But, who you gonna take over this time?” Cindy asked. “Our folks’d get suspicious about one of them suddenly be willing to chaperon us for a UTV concert. If it was the fucking Beetles, maybe...”

“Oh, I won’t be taking over any of our parents,” said Michelle, smirking as she visualized her target. “Just watch, girls. I’ll get us a car and a little chaperon for us.”

Michelle’s older brother, Frankie, was on the verge of graduating college. Pursuing a degree in Business and minoring in Econ, he was a gifted entrepreneur and already had a small business with some buddies from the same program. Not only that, but he had seriously bulked up in the years spent in his university’s newly built gym.

And all of that was the reason why Michelle had never hated Frank as much as she did now. Every time he went to the town’s gym with his fuckboy friends, he posted it online for the world to see. And, unfortunately, Michelle had the misfortune to witness friends and family gush over her brother through their brown-nosing social media posts.

However, Michelle had the opportunity to nab that all for herself. This was the first year Frank was gonna stay with his family for the summer, and Michelle wasn’t going to let that opportunity slide. The concert was a simple excuse to take advantage of that and help her friends out at the same time. A win-win for all except her bro.

On the night of a full moon, Michelle brewed the potion to use next time Frankie came back from the gym. UTV’s concert was coming up soon, but she had already reserved the tickets and hotel room by snatching up Frankie’s credit card while he wasn’t looking. “To make up for all the birthdays he missed,” she told herself.

Frankie returned a few hours after Michelle’s plan was in motion. “Hey Michelle!” he said, roughly ruffling Michelle’s hair as he arrived from the gym. She knew it was unintentional, but he was always rough with his affection. “How you doing?”

Michelle shrugged. “Going about it day by day. College’s looking more and more unaffordable by the second.”

Frankie grinned and laughed. “Hey, don’t worry! Worst comes to worst, I’ll help mom and dad pay for your tuition. I really want my li’l sis to enjoy college like I did.”

Michelle beamed at him, glad to see he didn’t suspect anything. “You must be parched after spending so long in the gym.” Taking out a sports drink container full of her potion, he tossed it to her eager brother. “Here. My treat.”

“Hey, thanks!” Without even checking what was inside, Frankie threw his head back and chugged most of the contents. Gullible as always, Michelle thought, only barely managing to suppress her smirk. “This shit taste fan-fucking-tastic, Michelle. Buy me some more if you get the chance.” Frankie ruffled her hair some more before making his way over to his room.

“Ten-mississippi, nine-mississippi,” Michelle counted down after a few minutes passed. Once she got down to zero, she walked over to her brother’s room and pressed her ear against the door. A thud and a low moan soon followed. Perfect. She threw the door open and found her brother lying on the ground and struggling to reach the door. “Hey there, bro,” Michelle said, grinning madly at her prey.

“Mi-Mi...” Frankie tried to speak, not having the energy to do so. “Heeeeelp…”

“Don’t worry, Frankie,” she said, walking around him and staring down at his naked, muscular back that would soon be hers. “That pain’ll end soon. And then I’ll feel so much better.” All his brother could even say was a moan of agony. “Don’t worry your dumb head over it. Just lie back and enjoy.”

He couldn’t even say anything in return as Michelle kneeled down and pressed her hand against his back. After a bit of force, Michelle’s hand fully sunk into him, as though his body was liquid. Frank let out a pitiful moan as his sister penetrated him, but she paid him no mind. In fact, Michelle enjoyed it. “I’ll be gentle,” she giggled.

Frankie let out another moan as Michelle placed both of her hands and feet inside of him, phasing through his skin with little resistance. “Wh-Whyyyy?” he managed to utter, squinting and blinking in the unbearable uncomfort that the possession process caused. His breathing was reduced to quick gulps of air and groans of agony bordering on pleasure from bondage.

“Because it’s my turn to have all those privileges!” Michelle shouted as she pressed more of herself into her bother. “It’s my goddamn turn to be the golden child. It’s my fucking birthright you piece of shit!” Frankie grimaced as his sister slowly sank further into the depths of depravity.

Hearts and souls mixed into one; a cocktail of ecstasy and terror as Michelle fully phased into her own brother. Frankie turned over, his back to the floor as limbs coiled and his core rose and fell with endless convulsions. “Lemme goooo…!” Frankie tried to say again.

Michelle ignored his screams. Instead, she focused her resolve while she navigated his core and soul. Arm in arm, leg in leg—Michelle oriented her now intangible, phantasmic form to drive into her brother’s much larger body. Physical sensations were slow but eventually came to her. The pleasurably soreness of the gym alongside the strain of resisting possession gently washing over Michelle. She flexed her fingers as her brother moaned in panic.

“I-I can’t feel my hands...” he said as Michelle began to flex and feel the strong, firm muscle just beneath his skin. “Michelle, I can’t feel myself. Please…”

“Ssshhhh, relax, Frankie,” Michelle whispered as the her brother’s limbs warmed under her control. “Oooh!” she said, wincing with pleasure as the lovely soreness that comes from a nice and productive day at the gym nearly overwhelmed her. In that brief window, Frankie made a desperate dash towards the door only to fall flat on his face. Despite his will, he sat criss-crossed and started clapping, as if to mock his escape attempt.

“What’s wrong, bro?” said Michelle, matching her brother’s inflection as she spoke, “Just think of this as a sorta work out. Look at how much you’re sweating.” Feeling frisky, Michelle put her shirt over her nose and took a deep whiff to her brother’s disgust.

“Ohhhh, oh god, you smell like such a boy,” she cackled, so uncharacteristic in the normally chill Frankie. Michelle leaned back and lied down on the floor, moving and shaking her hips, toes curled and thighs rubbing against each other as an erection grew. Frankie continued moaning, but Michelle could feel his resistance weaken as the friction grew.

“P-Please, go ahead,” Frankie said, his quivering lips flipping to a lewd smile. “F-Fuck, use me like a doll, Michelle.” Michelle grinned. All of her victims, for the most part, were ‘stained.’ Bits of Michelle’s soul always managed to worm their way towards her victims. The preacher in her old Church group, the phys ed. teacher, and even a local officer were all perfectly fine with becoming tools for Michelle. Now, her brother would be the same way. “Just use me like a goddamn costume. Take me over. Fuck my brains out ‘til I can’t even remember my name. JUST—NNGGGH—JUST FUCKING USE ME!”

Frankie shot load after load of cum, staining his gym shorts even more than his trip to the gym had. “Ohhh,” Michelle sighed, stretching her new core and flexing her stolen limbs.

Each muscle stretched with a satisfying pop! Not just that, but the new weight and the height that Michelle was now endowed with gave her a brand new appreciation for her own home. All of a sudden, Michelle needed to duck to go through the doorframes as she strode through her house. “Mmm, real nice. Damn straight,” she laughed with her brother’s low baritone. “Damn, bro! Lookit these fucking tits,” Michelle said as she bounced her pecs. “I could give such a good titjob with these things. You really were letting your assets go to waste.”

With a quick slap on her new ass, Michelle took her phone and began texting her parents and friends. In just a few convincing words, UTV’s concert was within reach.

“HO-LEY-SHIT,” shrieked Cindy as they drove to the hotel. “Michelle, I dunno how you do it, but you’re a goddamn miracle-worker.”

Michelle spares a quick glance at her brother’s handsome face before focusing back on the highway. “Well, y’know me,” she said, enjoying the low rumbling in her chest. “I’ve got the magic touch,” she said with a snap of her fingers.

“And the magic muscles,” said Cindy, running her hand down Frankie’s thick thighs. “God, your brother got so lucky with these genes. Like, everyone’s gonna be drooling over your bro’s big-ass body!”

“If they’re not busy drooling over UTV,” Nebula said, spread over the backside, arms folded in front of her chest like she was resting in a coffin. “Speaking of drooling, Cindy, turn it back a notch. Michelle’s still driving and I’d rather not end up in a coffin yet. Not ‘til I have the money to buy an expensive one.” Cindy immediately pulled her hand back to Michelle’s chagrin.

“Yikes, my bad!” said Cindy, tittering. Had it just been a joke, Michelle thought before turning to focus on traffic again. “Guess I got carried away. Sorry Mi-mi.”

Mi-mi...

“No, no, it’s no problem,” she said, shrugging awkwardly in this body that wasn’t used to it. Frankie melted away and Michelle felt back to that awkward girl that used magic to artificially give herself that confidence again. The rest of the ride was mainly Nebula and Cindy chatting back and forth with Michelle occasionally chiming in—just as it always was. Even in her brother’s body, in the body of a priest, an officer, and even a teacher, Michelle was Michelle. And thus, she was not confident, powerful, and she was certainly not Cindy’s lover.

An endless series of “I’m not,” thought Michelle, glaring at the road ahead.

It wasn’t long before they arrived at the hotel and left their stuff. “Only two beds,” Nebula noted. “We can share, Cindy. Frankie’s body’s kinda huge. It’d be like a soup spoon with a kitchen spoon.”

“Why do you have to mention spooning?” Michelle muttered, staring down at the ground.

Cindy said, “Sure, sounds good! I wouldn’t mind not getting crushed, tbh,” as if she didn’t hear Michelle.

“Well, let’s get going,” said Nebula. “UTV time!”

“AAAAHHHHH!” Though slow at first, Michelle joined in her friends’ shrieking, causing an imbalanced but still welcomed baritone to join in the excitement.

The concert, as expected, was great. UTV’s fusion of pop and metal combined with their looks filled the concert hall to its limit. People of all kinds from co-eds with bright futures to homely, middle-aged moms came from all over the state to listen to the comeback tour.

The one who stood out the most and kept getting conspicuous yet lustful looks was Michelle. She moved her borrowed body to the rhythm, breaking into a sweat. For the moment, caught up in the harmony, she forgot about Frankie and Michelle and only enjoyed the music. The eyes she caught remained unnoticed, even Cindy’s.

Once the concert wrapped up, Michelle sat by some nearby bleachers, stretching her sore muscles. “Damn, didn’t think dancing was like a full-body workout.” She looked around, trying to find her friends. Somehow, Nebula and Cindy wandered off without her realizing. “Nebby! Cindy!” she called out, forcing herself to stand up tall as she searched for them.

“Uhhh...” A chill went down Michelle’s neck as she heard a low yet familiar moan come from behind. She turned around and saw a half-conscious Nebula being supported by a grimacing Cindy.

“Mi-mi! Heeeelp!” Cindy said. Michelle ran over and almost threw Nebula to the roof with her new-found strength. “Oh, my bad...”

“Uhh, I’m sooo sleepy,” said Nebula with a long, drawn-out yawn. “Take me to the hotel room.”

“What happened?”

“Drank too much,” said Cindy, sighing. “She’s a sleepy drunk. Always was.”

“It was real goooood,” mewled Nebula.

“You’re gonna have to carry her,” said Cindy. “Dunno if you noticed, but uh...” she gave a weak flex, showing off her twiggy arms. Michelle doubted Cindy carried anything heavier than her purse.

“No prob,” said Michelle. Not for the first time, she was glad that her brother had such a large back. Carrying Nebula was like carrying a school backpack.

Nebula let out a small yawn and hugged Michelle close. “You’re like a giant pillow,” she muttered, nuzzling close to Michelle’s neck.

Cindy looked on with a blank expression.

“W-Well,” said Michelle, her face hot, “Let’s get going.”

“Yeah...”

The walk to the hotel was a silent agony. Cindy just looked to the side, dodging questions with one-word responses. And Michelle wasn’t the greatest conversationalist, so all she could offer was, “So how ‘bout that concert?” and, “Y’know I think Zac looked pretty sweet tonight,” before falling into silence as well.

When the three of them finally arrived at the hotel, Michelle took special care to tuck Nebula in. “Well, looks like we’ll be sleeping together,” Cindy muttered. Michelle reddened but agreed. “What, not even gonna say anything?” said Cindy, raising her voice. “You think I’m that gross?”

“N-No…!” said Michelle, eyes glued to the floor.

“Well, I’m gonna go take a shower. See ya in a sec,” Cindy said. Carelessly and without shame, she threw off her shirt and bra to the side before strutting to the bathroom. Did she want Michelle to get an eyeful or…?

Michelle sighed and sat down on the empty bed. She stared up at the ceiling, her head a complete mess. What was Cindy trying to do? Seduce her? Or was she just messing with her?

I’m not gonna stand for this, Michelle found herself thinking, surprising herself. If she wants a dicking who am I to say no? Only the polite thing to do. Without realizing it, Michelle had been rubbing the hard on in her brother’s shorts. A few moans left her borrowed lips as she envisioned Cindy’s naked body, breasts swaying back and forth. Then, she flicked her brother’s nipples and shuddered as electric tingles wracked her body. “Ohh, hurry up, Cindy.” Michelle hadn’t understood what a sex drive really was until she dove into the body of her older brother.

Just before Michelle ripped the shorts off and just started whacking it right then and there, the bathroom’s door opened. Cindy stepped out wearing nothing but a towel. “Wow, I thought I took the hot shower,” she said, cocking an eyebrow at Michelle. “You’re looking redder than a tomato.”

Michelle swallowed and allowed her body to go with the flow. She stood up from the bed and smoothly sauntered towards Cindy. Her towering height only helped give her the edge as she leaned against the wall and said, “Sup, girl. Feelin’ lucky tonight?”

Cindy looked down at Frankie’s erection. A naughty glint appeared in her eyes and she said, “I thought you’d never ask.” She leaned in and kissed Michelle without warning.

For a moment, Michelle was ready to call it quits and retreat, but the raging stallion that churned inside of her brother’s loins pushed her forward. “Yeah...” she moaned into Cindy’s mouth. The hormones and excitement of a first kiss and a jock’s raging sex drive fused into a man that hungered. She lifted Cindy up and carried her over to the bed, their lips never splitting. “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you,” she said, surprised at her gentle yet passionate words. Her brother—and now her—was a real gentleman. “I’ll be gentle...” she whispered.

Cindy whimpered. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Michelle swallowed. The spell had warned what sex with another person while possessing would lead to. The union of two souls into one while one soul was hijacking another would lead to an inseparable fusion. Not just Michelle, but reality as a whole would be changed forever.

“The meeting of two personalities…” That Carl Jung quote was still fresh on her mind, ever since the day she had read it on that spellbook. However, despite the fear and hesitation that Michelle should have felt in that instance never materialized.

“Both are changed forever,” Michelle said to herself, smirking as she realized that she would finally discard the shy girl always dragged herself down. Always afraid to try something new or embrace opportunities.

Michelle peeled the towel from towel from Cindy’s body, reveling in the little show she was making for herself. First the thighs, then the hips, and finally the cute stomach and her breasts. “Like what you see?” teased Cindy. “Well? Don’t leave me hanging, Mi-mi. Lemme see your bro’s goods.”

“You mean my goods?” said Michelle as she lifted her shift over her borrowed shoulders. “C’mon, just say Frankie, sweetie.” She leaned in and kissed Cindy once more, rubbing her thighs with one hand while removing her shorts with another.

Giggling, Cindy said, “Sure, Frankie,” before gasping as she caught sight of the large, erect cock just hanging in the air. “H-Hey, make sure you take it easy, ok?” For what must’ve been the first time in her life, Michelle witnessed a sheepish Cindy. “Never had anything that big in my life.”

“I told ya. I’ll be careful.”

“…Okay, I trust you.”

Michelle began with a few fingers. Cindy’s moans pushed her to continue. Once she was wet and comfortable, Michelle finally began to thrust inside of Cindy, getting a few moans out of the girl.

“Damn, you’re tight,” muttered Michelle.

“It’s not that, stupid,” said Cindy, “you’re way too big.”

“Sorry, sorry—“

“Just shut up and fuck me!”

Grinning, Michelle just said, “Whatever you say, ma’am,” as Cindy rolled her eyes. She worked into an even but still powerful rhythm. Her brother’s hips moved like a natural, only picking up speed when Cindy, through clenched teeth, demanded more. Meanwhile, Michelle took the liberty to explore every inch of Cindy she had looked but never touched out of lust and envy. Now, it was just pure pleasure and a desire to elicit more moans out of her partner. Confidence in her brother’s muscle memory fueled Michelle further.

“F-Fuck, Mi—Frankie, keep going—AH—keep going. Harder!” Cindy moaned and leaned back against the bed as Michelle increased her thrust.

The bed creaked and shook. From the other bed, just a few feet away, Nebula stirred before going back to sleep, unaware of Michelle’s actions. But she didn’t care. All she could focus on was ramming herself even deeper inside of Cindy and even deeper inside of Frankie’s soul. The boundaries between “I” and “he” thinned as the climax built up in Frankie’s loins.

“Say my name,” said Michelle.

“Frankie.”

“Again...” said Michelle, thrusting particular deep inside of Cindy. Cindy’s eyes nearly rolled to the back of her head as she stuttered out, “Fr-Frankie!”

“A-AH FUCK,” said Michelle. She could feel her ball churning and her core stiffen. “One more time. Say my goddamn name! With feeling.”

Cindy clenched her teeth, her legs trembling as Michelle slammed into her particularly hard—nearly lifting the bed from the floor. “Your name is Frankie!” she shouted as she climaxed.

“FUCK YEAH IT IS!” Frankie roared to the heavens as he came.

The following morning went by as a blur, but Frankie didn’t mind. The book warned about some level of jetlag once reality shifted. It wasn’t everyday that a wizard completely changed the world in his favor.

“C’mon, Frank,” said Nebula in her usual deadpan voice. “UTV’s gonna play again today. Heard that they were gonna dedicate this day to one of their music coaches or something.”

“Slow down, Nebby,” Frankie chuckled. Cindy was clinging to his arm, humming to herself as she leisurely strolled to the concert grounds. It was as if a miracle had landed on her lap and she was determined to indulge in every second of it. Frankie sighed but didn’t mind. “Got a clingy girl over here.”

Nebula grimaced. “Can’t believe I agreed to be the third wheel in this tour.” She turned to stare longinly at a poster of UTV. “Think I can snag one of them if I try hard enough?”

“Nebby, a woman can achieve she desires,” said Frankie, licking his lips as he caught his own reflection from a nearby window. “When two folks meet, who knows what’ll happen?”

Common Kurtosy

Request for @lurkinlizards

Lucas spent his whole life in love with Johnny—his next-door neighbor and best friend. Throughout his life, he spent his time slowly pining for the handsome boy now man during middle school, high school, and now university. Was it due to how similar they were? Or maybe it was the small differences that fascinated Lucas so? Either way, he knew that he could never deny his feelings.

Although Lucas spent his high school days and the first year of college experimenting and with little dates with girls and boys alike, the feelings remained true. And like that love, the silence endured. Lucas kept his feelings deep in his heart until the day came that Johnny revealed his own secret.

“Your dad’s a real catch,” Johnny said as Lucas’ father, Kurt, walked back to his bedroom to retire for the night. “A real-deal DILF, y’know. Mine’s just a string-bean.” Then, remaining completely casual, Johnny returned to playing games.

Perhaps it was the nonchalant nature of the confession, or maybe the fact that it was Lucas’ father that had unintentionally stolen Johnny’s heart, but a deep resentment festered in Lucas’ heart. Weeks passed, but the love and hate remained unspoken and unbending until a spell landed in Lucas’ possession.

“Take it away from me,” said a handsome, middle-aged man one; his eyes tinted with regret. He handed Lucas an occult book filled with spells and rituals. “Maybe you’ll use it better than I did. But I need that damn thing away from me and my… my son.”

Somehow, Lucas knew that the book was the real deal. Just the way each page seemed to quiver with some form of power as his fingers thumbed through was enough to convince him. There was something special in his possession and he could not wait to use it.

The target would naturally be his father, and the spell would be that to take over his body, permanently. The spell warned that it was irreversible, as it would swiftly kill the caster's body. However, Lucas had no intention of going back. While his life was aimless as he tried out what exactly engaged him during his first two years of university, his father continued to draw as a successful artist. And despite the years Lucas spent practicing, styling, and perfecting his own drawing methods, he couldn't hold a candle to his father.

So he would steal his talent, his life, and his best friend’s heart. While Lucas’ father slept, he conducted the ritual. His soul shed the complete burden that was his body and life. He stretched his essence as it rose into the air. It was as though he could finally spread his wings after being trapped in a cage.

However, Lucas didn’t dawdle for long. He flew through the walls of his home until he arrived at his father’s room—floating just a few inches above. Clad in just a pair of underwear in these hot summer months, Lucas stared down at his father’s body. His plump chest had a fine layer of hair and his strong jaw was accented by the stylized and thick beard. His face, always complimented with a kind smile, was always welcome wherever he went. All of these features only served to bolster Lucas’ envy and resolve.

Still, he dove onto this man, phasing through Kurt’s impressive chest, as the man shot up in shock. “Wh-Whu?!” he cried out, unconsciously planting his feet on the bed, legs spread, as control over himself swiftly dwindled. "Th-The fuck's happening to—ahh AAHHHH!" Kurt's consciousness quickly faded as Lucas stretched his soul throughout his father's body. It was as if putting on an old yet comfortable cloak that he had misplaced long ago. As the muscles warmed under Lucas’ control as his father, leaking drool and pre-cum, disappeared beneath the depths of his mind.

Lucas awoke and smiled. Somehow, wearing Kurt's smile was more comfortable than his own. He arose from his bed, astonished as to how simple and easy it was. Though Lucas was never ashamed of his own body, the ease of movement and vitality from Kurt's were intoxicating. "Oh, oh my god," he said. The sound of his new baritone sent erotic shivers down his spine. Finally, Lucas was in full control of his father and his fate. “Sorry dad,” he said, chuckling the whole time, “but look at it this way. I’m taking what is rightfully mine, is all.”

For most of the morning, Lucas walked up and down the halls of his home with a ridiculous, masculine strut. Each movement and pop of Kurt’s hot and hairy form was like a drink of ambrosia for Lucas. “Ahhhh…!” he exclaimed as he performed stretches that his old body would have balked at. “God, you feel so good, daddy!” Lucas laughed as he flexed his arms, licking the baseball-sized biceps. Then, he took each of his pectoral and began to massage them, flicking a nipple from time to time. With just that, he was already sporting a hard-on. “Your chest feels so good, dad. Holy crap, you’re so—ngggh—sensitive!”

Before his self-worship could continue, the doorbell suddenly rang. Lucas hadn’t realized that it was already 2pm. Johnny was here.

First, Lucas rushed to his father’s room to get dressed, but he was only just pulling his underwear up his legs before he paused, deep in thought. Why bother putting on so many layers when he’s gonna rip them off once Johnny was in his grasp? Grinning, lowered the underwear as much as he could before making his way towards the door.

As expected, Johnny was on the other side. The effect was immediate. His eyes bugged out and his mouth hung open in a perfect O as he stared at Kurt—now Lucas’—half-naked body. Lucas in particular noticed how Johnny’s gaze seemed particularly glued to his chest. “M-M-Mr. Miles! Hello! Uh, i-is Lucas home?” said Johnny.

Smirking inside, Lucas glanced over his shoulder, leaning against the doorway. "Hmm, might still be asleep. He'll probably be up later."

“O-Oh, is that so? Then, maybe I should just be going...” Johnny began to back away, Lucas placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Now now, no reason to turn tail and go. Lucas’ll be up soon. In the meantime...” Lucas’ pecs bounced to Johnny’s amazement. “Why don’t you keep me company, Johnny-boy?”

As if hypnotized, Johnny absentmindedly nodded and allowed Lucas to lead him inside. The two walked past Lucas’ original room, but Johnny did not protest. Instead, they made their way into Kurt’s room. The bed was made, the sheets were clean, and the room was ready for staining.

“Caught you lookin’ at me a certain way, Johnny-boy,” said Lucas, savoring the way he said his best friend’s name. “Thought I wouldn’t notice?”

“N-Not at all, sir,” said Johnny as several beads of nervous—or perhaps excited—sweat cascading down his brow. “B-But I did stare from time to time. I-I’m not gonna deny that.” He trembled, but the lustful smile did not lie.

“Well, what kinda fantasizes were you having about me?” Leaning in close, teasing Johnny was a small lick, Lucas whispered, “I’m curious.”

“I wanna worship ya! And then I want you to wreck my ass with that big-ass cock of yours!” Johnny’s voice lacked any shame or reservation. His eyes glistened with pure lust.

“Well then,” Lucas said, gently taking Johnny’s arm before pulling the two of them back. They fell back onto the bed, Johnny’s face landing on Lucas’ new chest. “Go right ahead. Show me what you’ve got.”

Johnny eagerly complied. He worked hard as he licked the pecs, not minding the carpet of hair on Lucas’ chest while massing and twerking the nipples. “You’re like a newborn on his mom’s breasts,” Lucas chuckled. “There ain’t no milk there.”

“I don’t care,” Johnny breathed. “Give me more,” he said, unbuttoning his jeans and slowly pulling them off while grinding up against Lucas’ torso. Each part of his body seemed to scream for more and more of Lucas. Not a single crease remained untouched.

Lucas moaned as Johnny continued to tease him. His father’s nipples were so sensitive, and just a graze from Johnny’s tongue sent him pre-cumming in his underwear. “God, you’re so cute worshippin’ my body like that.”

Johnny smiled as he sucked on Lucas’ chest.

“But, you ready for the real course?” The eagerness in Johnny’s eyes made Lucas laugh. “You’re so cute sometimes, y’know.”

Johnny responded by kneeling on the bed and removing his shirt and briefs while Lucas drank in the sight. He had often seen his best friend shirtless during the times they went running or swimming, but this was something else entirely. Now, Johnny was completely naked and aroused. At him--at Lucas. The way his lips seemed to quiver and his body trembled with both want and fear of what would come next only cemented Lucas' thoughts.

I made the right choice, he thought. No, I made the choice that was right for me. I deserve this.

Years of fruitless pining all disappeared with a single spell—and though more hardships would follow, Lucas embraced this moment of bliss with all his heart.

“Let’s make love,” he told Johnny.

Johnny bit his lip while Lucas soft muttered and whispered, “Don’t worry, I’ll be slow. I won’t hurt you. Nggh! Holy shit.” Lucas knew that Johnny was experienced, but somehow that hole wasn’t loose at all. He was tight and quite experienced, moving his hips in sync with Lucas’ thrusts.

"F-Fuck me, daddy, holy shit!" Johnny cried out, embracing Lucas with both arms and pushing himself more onto Lucas' chest. "Ah! C-C'mon! Fuck me harder."

“God, you love to beg!” Lucas yelled, trying to push more and more of himself into Johnny as if he was trying to possess him. “Scream harder for me, Johnny-boy. I want to hear how much you love my body. NGGH! How much you love me.”

Johnny let out another cry as Lucas thrust hard into his prostate. His pre-cum ran like a bubbling volcano. “I’m g-gonna cum! Kurt, d-daddy, I’m gonna—AHHH! I’m gonna cum!” Before Lucas could even react, Johnny wrapped his legs around his torso and pulled him in as much as he could. With another roar of ecstasy, Johnny screamed, “I’M CUMMING!”

Lucas grinned as he saw Johnny's sweat-matted face, almost convulsing as he sprayed his load between them. Just his voice and his eyes shining with ecstasy and pleasure were enough to push Lucas over the edge. With a manly roar, Lucas shouted, "Take on daddy's load, Johnny-boy!" he said, pushing Johnny's face onto his chest as he shot load after load into Johnny's waiting asshole.

The two of them lied back on the bed in each other’s embrace. Lucas knew that eventually this peace would end and he would have to suffer through the consequences of his spell, but for now, he could be in post-coitus alongside the love of his life. “Love ya, Johnny-boy,” he said, drunk in the moment.

“I love you too, Kurt,” Johnny said, smiling and cuddling close to him.

Hello again, same anon from yesterday. I definitely respect your choice to keep the story a standalone. I've really been enjoying your work and look forward to seeing what else you post.

Thank you! I'll keep on working hard and improving.

Daddy’s Punishment

Ryan cocked his eyebrow as he glanced up at his son’s shut room. Once again, the sounds of giggling and teasing pierced through the house’s walls and rang in Ryan’s ears. His son, Michael, was spending another day of his Spring Break with his girlfriend, Veronica. Ever since their senior year of high school, the two had been inseparable. Now, in their final year college after searching for programs that would suit them both, the two discussed their plans for the future with a youthful and carefree vigor.

Frankly, Ryan felt disgusted. His heart burned with jealousy for those days that had passed him by with little excitement or joy. A few years of blissful marriage with the love of his wife before she passed, leaving behind a young boy that would rather spend the day as far away from Ryan as possible. The two lived in the same home, but rarely shared the same menu that day or remained in the same room without a tense air flooding the space between them.

It wasn’t animosity, at least, Ryan didn’t think it was. However, the thought of spending the whole day with Michael made his skin crawl. It would be better for the two to simply lead their own lives and not get in the other’s way.

Then Veronica arrived. Michael spent much more time at home playing House with her while Ryan remained some awkward third-wheel in his own abode. There was no animosity, but Ryan didn’t miss the way Michael’s brow furrowed when he saw his father or the way Veronica’s smile grew just the tiniest bit more tense when Ryan said “Hello,” or just passed by the hallway.

It was maddening. The young couple flaunted their happiness as if Ryan didn’t exist without rest. It was picturesque relationship that served as a painful reminder of what Ryan could never have. A gnawing hunger for a youthful renaissance or a second chance ate at Ryan’s soul, and he eventually snapped.

Not long after, an old family member, in his deathbed, passed along a grimoire.

“The ability to change and reshape reality to suit your whims,” the relative, a man that Ryan scarcely knew and hardly thought about, said with his final breaths. “You’ve always been so kind and considerate, dropping every once and while to check up on me,” he continued, unaware that Ryan spent the last few days trying to remember the relative’s name or even their relationship. “Use this power to make you and Michael’s life better. It’ll bring me great joy in the afterlife to know that you’re both okay and that my book helped.” With a tearful smile, he said, “Wouldn’t that be great? It’ll be like I’m watching over you.”

Ryan nodded and whispered, “Good night. We’ll miss you.” There was no reason to break the old man’s heart with the truth. It was an adult lesson Ryan learned long ago.

“I’ll miss Uncle Miles,” said Michael as they drove home together. Ah, that was his name. Always slipped my mind, thought Ryan as he glanced over at his son. It was one of the rare times Veronica wasn’t hanging off his arm. It felt like it was the first time he had seen in his son in years. So much taller and broad-shouldered—it brought forth another wave of envy inside of Ryan. His grip on the steering wheel tightened until his son spoke again. “What did he say to you?”

Caught off-guard, he gruffly responded, “J-Just gave me his little book,” with a small sneer. “He was born delusional and died delusional,” he lied—a habit that brought him far too much comfort. “Least we were able to say goodbye. Gotta be grateful for that.”

“Right…” said Michael with barely hidden disdain. The rest of the ride back was silent as Ryan’s mind returned to Miles’ spellbook. In his youth, he had seen Miles be able to use that book for specific hexes and curses, but he had little talent for such things.

“It’s all in the ritual,” Miles had told him once. “You just have to be more careful with the spell and the materials you make. A strong will and determination also help, Ryan.” At first, Ryan didn’t really care for Miles’ advice and let those memories stew in the back of his mind. Now, at the height of his envy, Ryan ran towards his room with thundering steps and opened the page to his destined future.

Bodysnatching. Taking over another’s body. The stolen youth and missed opportunities wouldn’t matter to Ryan anymore. He would take them all back. He would invade his own son’s body and restart his life—a true renaissance. The thought of that caused shivers to travel down his spine and towards his crotch. His own flesh and blood convulsing as he took back what he rightfully deserved. First, he would break up with Veronica, enjoy the way her soft features so accustomed to smiling twisted into a tearful grimace, and then indulge in youth once more. Perhaps sleep around some and enjoy what fading bits of youthful freedom his son was wasting. Michael seemed like he was in such a hurry to grow up. It honestly depressed Ryan as much as it enraged him.

His thoughts were cut off as someone knocked on his door. Waiting for his erection to calm, he answered, “Comin’.”

On the other side was Veronica, smiling as she usually did. “Hello, Mr. Mitchell,” she greeted with a practiced tilt of her head. “I just wanted to thank you so much for letting me stay with Michael so often. Sometimes it feels like I’m monopolizing his time with you,” she said, tittering. Feeling awkward, Ryan joined in until she stopped.

“You don’t have to worry about that, Veronica,” said Ryan. “It’s not like Michael and I are particularly excited to spend whole days together.” It was a dialogue that wasn’t unfamiliar to Ryan, but he found it more difficult than ever to put even the barest effort into it. When he was so close to finally breaking free, this girl felt the need to drag it out even longer. Her fake smile only enraged him further. “’sides, it’s not like you two are gonna be together for very long anyway. High school and college sweethearts break up all the time.” Ryan couldn’t help but grin as those words escape his lips.

Veronica’s lips tightened, and her smile became even more forced. “I see,” she said, dragging out the last syllable. “Well, please be conscientious enough to have your little mid-life crisis like a normal person would and keep it far away from us. Okay?” She shut the door on him, not waiting for Ryan’s response.

All her actions did was just push Ryan forward. He waited until it was late at night, filling his time by practicing magic circles on his floor. Every time he felt discouraged, he remembered Veronica’s smile and grew inspired. To break that damn girl—that alone would be worth the effort. At around midnight, when the lights to Michael’s room shut off, Ryan got to work. Whispering the enchantment under his breath, his half-naked body groaned and trembled as his soul emerged from the flesh. Little more than a ball of blue flame, Ryan shot through the air towards his son’s room. His spirit phased through the wall with no resistance.

It's mine, all mine, he thought in a twisted excitement as he emerged into Michael’s room. His son lied on his bed, one leg arched and his mouth open as he snored peacefully. Come to daddy, Michael, thought Ryan as he zoomed towards his defenseless son.

Then, he felt something pinch him from behind and drag him away from Michael. “…?!” The only sound he could matter was a shocked cry as Veronica held him back.

“Well, well,” she said, smirking at the ball in her hand. She dropped Ryan onto her other hand, holding him like a baseball bat. “Another piece of shit that wants their dirty soul in my boyfriend.” Grip tightening, she raised Ryan up so that they were face-to-face. “Do you know how many irritating magicians, witches, warlocks, and everything in between try to possess my precious Mikey?” Ryan couldn’t response. All he could do was watch as Veronica’s sweet façade melted into a chilling glare.

Michael blissfully snoozed away.

“The answer is too many, Mr. Mitchell. And you just added yourself onto that list.” Though Ryan couldn’t emote, his soul still shivered at the weight of Veronica’s words. “Don’t worry, I’m above killing. Pathetic people like you aren’t going to learn any lessons in the afterlife. I’ve got a very special punishment for your kind.”

It happened in an instant. Veronica’s body burst into pink flames, still with a tight grip on Ryan’s soul. The flames flew through the house in a speed that Ryan could never hope to match until both spirits dived into Ryan’s body. He fell backwards onto the floor, toes curling and hips thrusting into the air as Veronica forced him back into his flesh and forcibly ripped control from him. With surgical precision, each of Ryan’s limbs fell under her control until she was admiring her form in front of Ryan’s full-view mirror.

“The age really hits you,” said Veronica as she ran her stole hands down her torso. “And all the good muscles gooooone,” she said, pouting in the mirror before giggling to herself. “Y’know DILFs are still in fashion, Mr. Mitchell? You could probably find yourself a nice, thirsty thot to bring home. Maybe even someone willing to settle down.” Hands resting on the back of her bald head, armpits exposed, she sauntered throughout the room. She also, perhaps to humiliate him further in this parade, swung his hips seductively. “But I guess some people just can’t get enough of just living and appreciating what they have, huh? They just have to try and take from others.”

Please, Ryan begged from the recesses of his mind. Just lemme go. I promise I learned my lesson. Lemme go!

“No way,” said Veronica, twirling her finger. All sorts of sex toys, vibrators, and hemp rope appeared on Ryan’s bed. “You won’t learn this lesson until its engraved into your body. And don’t worry, I’ll make sure your flesh won’t ever forget.” Cackling to herself, Veronica picked up a vibrator and eagerly sighed as it began to buzz with a fearsome intensity. “It’s PUNISHMENT TIIIIIIME!”

From anal beads to vibrators to surugadoi, Ryan’s mind and body learned the true extent of a witch’s wrath. His bed, sheets, and even walls became coated in semen which Veronica happily scooped up. “Mustn’t waste a single drop,” she taunted him, shaking his ass as she roced him to crawl on all fours. “If you do, we might have to start allll over again.” He screamed and moan in his prison, unable to deny the enjoyment he felt.

Meanwhile, Michael slept peacefully as his father’s roars of intense pain and pleasure filled the house. Veronica always enjoyed putting a Slumber charm on her boyfriend to make sure he always had a necessary eight hours. It was also convenient when she went galivanting and dolling out punishments to people.

The following morning, Ryan hummed to himself as he fixed up pancakes for the happy couple. Veronica smiled and cuddled close to a happy yet confused Michael. “What’s the occasion?” he asked Ryan.

“N-Nothing, son,” said Ryan as he set down a plate. He rubbed his hand over his face as he spoke. “Just… feel like I really learned something about myself last night, thinking about Miles’ words.” He smiled at Michael. “Any plans for you crazy kids?”

“We’re going to swim at the lake to relax before we got back to school,” said Veronica as she drowned her plate with syrup. “Once hell week is up, we’re thinking of going to a friend’s beach house for the summer. Isn’t that grand?”

“Sounds amazing,” said Ryan while Michael happily accepted the new laid-back atmosphere. Ryan stood and smiled the whole time. Perhaps he could get accustomed to something like this like his son.

“Dad? Aren’t you going to sit down and have breakfast with us?”

A quick glance at Veronica was all that Ryan needed to formulate an answer. “Oh, no, no. I’ve got some work to get done. I’ll have breakfast later.” He left the kitchen, relieved his son didn’t insist that Ryan ate with them. There was no way Ryan would be able to sit down for at least a week.

FEStival Fiasco

Mizar Interlude

The joys of physical touch fascinated Mizar so. With every lover and climax, he felt more and more inclined to remain in this blue rock for the rest of his life just having his prostate ridden.

Luckily for him, Mizar found himself in a stuffy office full of men who desperately needed someone to relieve stress with. After a few winks and thirsty looks, Mizar had his next plaything on lock.

“Ngh! C’mon, harder!” he begged at this handsome stranger in a suit. They were in an unused meeting room that, according to his host’s coworker, would not be used for another hour. Mizar was on his back, completely naked and covered in a sheen of sweat, as his partner fucked him with just his slacks down. By now, he was far from festival grounds by highjacking bodies and hopping on dicks. This would just be another ride he could take advantage of.

“Holy shit, John!" The businessman, whatever his name was, exclaimed as he continued pounding Mizar. "You always seemed so uptight! Who knew you were such a cockslut," the man said with a chuckle as he picked up the pace. "And such a tight ass. Holy hell, it's like it's sucking me in."

“Ahhh,” Mizar moaned, arching his back while trying to meet John’s coworker with equal vigor.  He truly had no idea what his host’s name was or even his position in the company, but none of that mattered compared to the burning desire for carnal pleasure. “K-Keep it up. C’mon, fuck me hard! Make me forget even my own name!” Mizar shouted, repeating phrases from previous partners. When in Rome, as one of them had said when he first came to them with an erection that wouldn’t go down and a crazed need to bottom. Or was it, any hole’s a good one?

All of the thoughts instantly vanished from Mizar as his partner delivered another powerful thrust. "Ngh! F-FUCK!" Not nearly satisfied enough, Mizar wrapped his legs around his coworker's torso and pull him even deeper into himself. "Paint my insides white! Tear me in half like—OOOH—LIKE A COCK WHORE!"

“Here it comes!” Mizar’s lover cried out, balancing on his toes to push even deeper as he came. Mizar grinned as he felt each shot fill him up with warm semen. Soon after, as his lover’s climax dribbled away, he reached his own peak as well. Load after load fell onto Mizar’s borrowed, sweaty torso, and he enjoyed rubbing it all over himself. He wasn’t sure if it was his possession that caused such tremors of ecstasy with all of his hosts, but he was far and beyond the point of caring. For Mizar, his life would be peaks and valleys of time when he was seeking his new high. “Come hereeee...” he whispered, tongue sticking out as he grabbed his lover by the tie and pulled him close.

Another peak, another valley. Now was the time to find another experience. Without delay, Mizar jumped from John and into his new ride. Although the businessman struggled and tried to push Mizar away, he could not stop the alien sliding in through his mouth and traveling up to his brain. "NGH! MM! Oh—oh god!" The man groaned, collapsing on top of John's drooling and unconscious body as Mizar bit down on his brain. After some small convulsions and a few waves of pleasure, Mizar stood up and admired his new husk. The hard-on that threatened to no longer fit in his slacks and jock-strap fascinated Mizar the most.

“Let’s go,” Mizar said to himself, not even bothering to figure out more about this man or how to lay low. All that mattered to him was finding his next peak.

Wrestling With Some Feelings

Wrestling with some Feelings

“Wh-What are you doing…?" Ahmed moaned as a trail of slime slid into his singlet. Just the very touch caused his body to react with an eruption of pleasurable waves. He collapsed onto the locker room floor, slowly humping the floor to get any sort of friction on his hardening dick. "Haa… aahhhh...haaa…! This isn't… right." Ahmed bit down on his lip before letting down another desperate moan. So caught up in this invasive bliss that he didn't even care when the slimy creature squeezed itself into his leaking cock. Instead, he welcomed it. Thoughts of championships and the thrill of victory soon vanished beneath a blanket of ecstasy. "Ah! Ahhh! H-Holy fuck, I'm—!"

Ahmed wasn't able to finish as his body yielded to the enigmatic invader. His vision swam and he felt dizzy until he collapsed on a puddle of his precum. Ahmed's body convulsed on the ground, unable to even call for help, until he suddenly became rigid, back arched as if mid-orgasm. Then, he relaxed. Slowly, he rose from the ground and took a peek inside his wrestling singlet. "Damn kid, you got a sweet-ass body," he said, stretching his body and letting out a satisfying grunt as something popped. His more reserved personality and mannerisms were completely gone, as though it was someone else entirely. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna stay here forever. Just long enough to throw that match with Clay tonight. Can’t let my son lose that scholarship. You understand, right?” Adjusting his singlet again, the man in possession of Ahmed, Jerry, let out a sensual groan. “Ohhh, and maybe take advantage of this little body for a while. Not every day an old fart like me can be a young and sexy college stud for a few hours."

There was still time until the match, and considering how it would just be throwing the match to Clay, it wouldn’t take much effort. For now, Jerry could relax and enjoy what Ahmed's body had to offer. Grinning, he squeezed Ahmed's meat through the fabric and threw his head back in a low moan. "You're so lucky, being so sensitive. C'mon, let's get real acquainted."

Clay’s father had to struggle to keep his erection down as Clay seriously manhandled him the whole match. Each of Ahmed’s nerves seemed to be turbo-charged and Clay’s rough hands only seemed to aggravate that. With every slam and struggle—every time flesh met flesh with a flash of friction, Clay’s father found himself growing flushed. Didn’t even have to try that hard to throw, his over-horned body did the job for him.

Was it the spell or perhaps something more? Either way, soon Jerry found himself pinned to the mat with his son sneering down at him. The ref called the final point, and that was it. Jerry walked back to the locker rooms, ignoring the calls from his coach and friends. He couldn’t risk anyone catching on to his lack of disappointment.

To make sure the locker room would be empty, Jerry took an extremely long shower—checking his goods one last time before he would have to leave and return home to congratulate his son. Towel around his waist, he made his way over to the locker only to meet a meaty arm blocking his way. 

"Gotta say, kinda disappointed in your performance today, Ahmed," Clay said with a glare.

“Oh, Clay! Uh, wh-what can I say? Performance anxiety,” Jerry said, shrugging.

Clay tilted his head in confusion. “The hell’s happened to you? All jumpy and squirrely.” He took a step forward, cornering his father against the lockers. “You sick or something? Honestly looking real weird.”

Swallowing, Clay’s father said, “Um, I suppose you just have the magic touch,” he said, mind racing to come up with a lie that would be somewhat believable. “Body got all hot and cold with you manhandling me like that.” Jerry prayed that his face and ears weren’t turning as red as he thought they were.

Clay nodded to himself while squinting as if deciphering a difficult piece of text. "That so…?” Hoping that was enough, Jerry began to walk away. However, Clay slammed both of his arms against the lockers, pinning his father completely. “All you had to do was ask,” Clay whispered, his incredulous look turning into one of passion. Without a word, he leaned and kissed Jerry on his borrowed lips. Too shocked to even fight, Jerry leaned back and shut his eyes. What did this rush of passion mean? It was as if a dam had suddenly burst open.

Caught in this stream of passion, Jerry met Clay's kiss with equal aggression. It was as if he was possessed by whatever sentiments Ahmed had locked away deep inside of his subconscious. Either way, Jerry couldn’t even bother trying to resist the youthful hormones that danced in every inch of his hunky, borrowed body.

“Damn, you taste real fine,” said Clay, leaning away to stare at the giddy, bubbly mess that was Jerry. “Your lips feel so nice. Bet they’d be even better wrapped around my dick,” he said, slapping his thigh as he said so. Jerry glanced down and saw his son’s fully erect cock straining against the confines of the singlet. Wordlessly, he nodded and got down on his knees. The taste was so salty, but he didn’t mind it at all. Hearing his son’s pleasured moans and the cock threatening to unhinge Ahmed’s jaw was enough to get Jerry’s own dick hard.

“Make me see white,” Jerry breathed as he drew back with a pop. He spread his legs, trying to show as much of his ass he could. “Fuck me hard, Clay. I don’t think I can live without that cock inside of me once.”

“Say no more.” With a grunt of effort, Clay lifted Jerry up and placed him down onto one of the benches. “Don’t worry, I’ll be nice and gentleman-y like.” Leaning up to steal another sensual kiss, Clay teased the rim of Ahmed’s hole with his cockhead. Jerry moaned and bit down on his lips. He took a few breaths, trying to relax, before just leaning back and staring up at the ceiling. "Hold on, relax," whispered Clay, using a finger to loosen him up. "Got some lube in my locker. Give me a sec."

“You have what?” Jerry exclaimed as Clay briefly walked off. “H-How often do you do this here.”

Once Clay returned, he just grinned and said, “Enough.”

Though Jerry wanted to continue asking his son, the finger that penetrated him had another idea. Jerry, nearly cross-eyed, immediately tightened as a reflex. He leaned back, moaning like a slut as Clay slipped in another finger. Then another. “F-Fuck, I-I’m fucking cumming!” Jerry shouted as his dick erupted with shot after shot of pent-up aggression.

“Damn, came from just fingering?” Clay grinned. “Hope you still got fuel in the tank, Ahmed. I still haven’t got a chance to shoot my shot.”

Breathing heavily, Jerry nodded as he spread his legs even further. Despite his climax abating, the sensual haze in his mind didn’t leave. Instead, he felt as though he could cum again and again that night. “I’m still not satisfied. Split me in half, Clay!” He moaned. Although the more logical part of Jerry's mind screamed and begged, he didn't give a shit. He just wanted this hunky hole filled and his son's cock was the one thing that could fix that.

Clay wasted no time. He spread Jerry as much as he cut and gave a slow, experimental thrust. When Jerry didn't scream, he slowly picked up the pace. "Mm, yeah. Nrgh, fuck yeah," he grunted with every thrust. There was no reason to go so quick that it would take away from the passion. As promised, he was gentle with strong, rhythmic thrusts. Jerry met each one with the same rhythm. Every nerve seemed to be on fire as Clay's cock filled him—as though Jerry was finally complete. With this body and this cock inside of him, he was reaching Nirvana.

After what seemed like a lifetime of pleasure, Jerry noticed Clay’s core tightening. His face was flushed and his body was covered in a sheen of sweat. “I’m—nggh—I’m gonna blow my load. Want me to cum inside?” Jerry quickly nodded. Clay grinned. “Good answer.” With renewed vigor, Clay continued plowing into Jerry as he babbled nonsense. “C’mon, Ahmed. Scream for me.” He said, slapping Ahmed’s quivering thighs.

“Oh my god,” said Jerry, covering his face to hide the tears. He was elated and embarrassed all at once. His own offspring was smashing him and all he could do was moan and allow it to happen. It had been years since he had sex this good, and he knew that Ahmed felt the same. No, for Ahmed it was even more intense. Somehow, Jerry understood that Ahmed had never had sex before. Now, at that moment, Jerry was losing his virginity for Ahmed. With that in mind, Jerry could feel his climax swiftly approaching.

“I'm gonna nut! I'm gonna—MMM!" Jerry stopped as Clay suddenly embraced him with a long, intense kiss. Unable to handle the heat and the passion any longer, Jerry climaxed. Both of their bodies became drenched in semen, but neither of them cared. All they wished was to taste as much of themselves in that kiss.

Sorry, Ahmed, thought Jerry, lemme just stay in this body for a little while longer. I’ll leave tomorrow in the morning. Promise.