As the saying goes... what good is having a female body without being able to exploit it a trifle? *slow, sinister grin* Quite mature content. You have been warned.
***
I stretch, albeit unnecessarily, as I wake and steal a glance around, a lazy smile floating past my lips as I recall the evening prior. The sheets are a tangled mess none of us bothered to straighten before fatigue swept in and claimed the three of us. As such, we lie on top of them, three naked bodies huddled close together, one on either side of the object of our affections with him resting in the middle, an expression of blissful contentedness yet painted on his face.
Pausing for a moment to study him, I marvel at the response something so simple as examining him brings with it. Dark hair atop his head, the corner of his mouth curled in a smirk as though he knows the secrets to life’s grand mysteries and shares them at his leisure. I have always admired that about him, even when we were rivals. His confidence. It was the one thing which stopped me from hating him blindly, knowing deep down inside he and I were probably more alike than I dared admit to myself. It all seems like so long ago to me now, as though those early days have been fading into the backdrop reserved for clever anecdotes, losing their potency.
A side effect, perhaps, of occupying a different body.
The thought causes me to smirk as I glance down at a form quite unlike the one I am accustomed to seeing. Twenty-seven years in male form, with such a spitfire masculine personality, I have taken for granted certain... portions of my anatomy, if you will. I grin a trifle more wickedly, suppressing a laugh because I do not wish to wake anybody just yet. The body on loan to me, it prevents me from having to share real estate with the man resting on the other side of our lover and made last night possible. My eyes shut and I feel this very female body react to the mere evocation of what happened.
My knee bends, one leg sliding across the disheveled sheets as tingles settle between my thighs.
Men take for granted such things as ‘morning’ erections and the effect potent images have on our cocks. Admittedly, we are rather brutal and pedestrian about how we take out such frustrations, knowing that with a stroke or a thrust, we can achieve the pleasure we seek, some of us more readily than others. Women, I am discovering, are far more complicated creatures. The stimuli internal, the moment the gears within this body begin to turn, the entirety of the form is affected. The desire to wriggle and squirm slips like silk through the psyche and if another set of hands is not available to caress the sweeping curves, their own glide across their soft skin out of sheer need to be touched.
I find myself doing so despite myself, becoming swept up in what the man lying to my left does to me. The hands I borrow settle on my stomach and while one creeps upward, cupping one of my breasts, the other drifts south and teases my clit. I bite my lip and shiver, the images playing on repeat of Victor on top of me, our bodies pressed together, him entering me and the palpable ecstasy which rockets through my body during our coupling. Not that our sexual encounters in Peter’s body were ever lacking. Far from it. But this... was exquisite.
My core turns slick again, one of my fingers slipping inside my folds to tease. I summon additional images: the first time he kissed down my stomach and slipped his tongue inside me, his hands on me while his mouth dispensed immense pleasure. The tightly wound coil which winds tighter and tighter the more he fondles me until it snaps and release floods over me like a tidal wave.
Abruptly, I pause when I feel somebody on the bed shift.
Raising an eyebrow, I turn my head to survey my bedmates, seeing the outline of Peter’s body in the same position I remember it being a few minutes prior. I glance at Victor, though, and see the slight change in way he lies, as though he sensed me swept up, even subconsciously. I smirk. With the copious amounts of blood we exchange, a bond between us is firmly in place, but its depths continue to be plumbed between us. Victor can yet suppress certain things from me, but I lack the skill to figure out how to keep much from my lover. As such, it does not surprise me when his body moves once more prior to settling again.
I spend a few moments wrestling with temptation. Lying on his back, Victor presents himself a far too alluring and simple target for a bout of wickedness and I become infected with the notion to slide down the bed and leave a trail of kisses from leg to thigh, up to abdomen with my breasts and stomach taunting at his shaft. Grinding against him, perhaps traversing downward to lick the length of his cock before pressing our bodies together and kissing him in a passionate manner. Quickly, I force myself to snap out of it before another trickle of lust flows from me to him.
I do so dislike seeming so needy. I simply cannot help myself.
Blinking several times, I force myself to slowly come to a seated position, lithly slipping from the bed and stretching again once I come to my feet. I steal a quick glance at the clock beside the bed, seeing the hours hastening toward sunset, but not quite there yet. The notion nearly inspires a pout. ‘Pouting? Gods, I have already been in this body too bloody long,’ I think to myself, grinning and shaking my head. My eyes shift to the bathroom and my grin turns devilish. I do not know if being in another room shall help dull the pulses passing through our bond, but fantasizing in the shower, undoubtedly, has to be an improvement.
With a shrug, I pad lightly into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. Flicking the light switch, the confined area illuminates and I find myself looking into a mirror, seeing my female form in all its naked splendor. Granted, I had traversed its topography on the other side of the fence in ample measure. Gabrielle, the name of the body’s primary occupant, had me blissfully snared in her dream world for several months and our relationship with each other there could hardly be described as plutonic.
Seeing it as a mirror reflection of myself, however, inspires a much different form of appreciation. I see the glint in my eyes as the only evidence of my consciousness, with a still very masculine way in how I hold myself. Everything else screams of femininity, though. My red hair flowing over my shoulders, the strands touch a set of ample, but firm, breasts. Slim and curvy, my hips sweep outward subtly from a slender waist, completing the hourglass shape. A patch of ginger resides between my thighs and as I glance downward, I cannot help but to admire the entire package, from legs to torso; shoulders, arms and face.
As far as women are concerned, I am a rather attractive one, if I do say so myself.
I smirk, giving one further indication of the assassin who resides therein, then walk toward the shower, ignoring the reflection of my backside lest my scrutiny turn narcissistic. Turning on the water, I wait for steam to filter from the spray before climbing in. I settle underneath the water and wet my hair, slipping my fingers through the long locks and allowing a different form of pleasure to voice unction within me. The heat works into my muscles and drapes over me like a blanket of bliss I immerse within long enough to cleanse myself.
As the last suds of soap slide from my body, however, what brought me here in the first place rises to the surface once more. I feel a wicked grin tug at the corner of my mouth again and deliberately palm one of my breasts. Kneading it once, I bite my lip again and fight the fangs wishing to descend as I let lust consume me. My thumb and forefinger pinch the nipple, rolling it around as the digits of my other hand tease between my legs again. Thoughts of Victor run through my mind and I moan, thrusting my fingers deeper inside me to compensate for the physical absence of my lover. Dangling near the precipice of release, sounds distantly reach my ears until one knocks me soundly from my sensual exploration.
The door opens and then clicks shut. I become acutely aware of the fact that I am not alone. At first a burst of panic - as though I had been caught doing something especially nefarious - throttles through me as an impulse, my hands settling to my sides. It dissipates quickly, though. Tendrils of lust filter through me, possibly originating outside myself, and I grin as I realize from who they find their genesis.
At once, I relax and straighten my posture. Tempted to hum, I merely face forward and wait, running my fingers through my hair again as my entire body buzzes with anticipation. The shower door opens and my interloper slips in behind me. The moment I feel two arms wrap around me, I smirk and lean back against the man clutching me close.
“Good evening, my lover,” I murmur, not able to hide how pleased I am with myself from my tone of voice. I press myself against him all the more, as though attempting to meld our bodies together. “Did I wake you?”
Victor smirks in such a manner I can almost hear it, his lips finding my ear and nipping at the lobe. I hear him whisper, yet the words themselves are not as important as the intentions they state, ones I become tangled in rapidly as his hands take over where mine had been only moments prior. I quiver in his arms despite myself. A sharp moan punctuates his digits slipping inside me and I lean back against him as my knees turn weak, threatening to buckle from the force of my pleasure.
I feel his fangs scratching at my neck. My own finally run down, me unable to stop it. He pinches the tip of my breast and I feel my core turning slicker, the water impeding the friction his fingers generate only marginally. Victor compensates by curling his fingers and the next thrust within me causes my eyes to roll back and a whimper to escape my lips. I lift one arm to settle my hand on the back of his neck while my other slaps against the shower wall, me needing to cling onto something lest I truly do buckle.
“Yes...” I whisper as an impulse, then cry out the next time he touches that sensitive spot within me. My back arches. “Oh gods... Victor, yes...” He increases the tempo and I moan with increasing loudness, me having no thought or care to watch the volume of my voice. As the tight coil snaps, I hurtle headlong into release, my consciousness focused on my climax and precious little else for interminable moments.
As realty filters through the haze, I shudder once more, feeling Victor’s fingers slip from me. His arms remain tight around me, though, and I find the fire within me nowhere near extinguished with one orgasm. At the same time, wriggling against him grinds his hard cock against me and the tingles return anew, my body instinctively knowing what it wants and consuming me to seek it. I turn to face him and equal parts love and lust saturate the searing kiss I place on his lips, my arms circling him in return to press him close against me. I cannot help the thought, ‘Gods, I love you so fucking much,’ as our lips tangle, one of my legs wrapping around him to draw him closer still. Our lips part. I tilt my head and whisper, “I need you, my lover Victor.”
He shivers. A soft growl punctuates the nips and kisses he peppers on my neck. I feel my back hit the shower wall and gasp, reading his intentions as one of his hands slips to my ass and cups it. He raises me up and I wrap both legs around him, gazing at him half-lidded when he lifts his lips from my neck. The light scratches he inflicted on my throat are nothing compared to the way his fangs cut my lips, a harsh, passionate kiss commencing between us. My sharp teeth cut into him as well and blood mixes in our mouths, both of us able to taste our mutual desire and stoke the fires burning bright between us.
I tremble in his grip. Such need throttles through me, it forces my hands to settle on his upper arms, my fingernails digging into him, my back sliding against the slick wall as water continues to rain down upon us. Our lips part as he lifts me up enough for his mouth to wrap around one of my breasts. When he bites down, I call out and nearly climax from the sensation of him feeding upon me alone.
A violent shiver rips through me. One of my hands lifts to his hair and my fingers tangle with his short locks, me panting not from the need for air, but from the sheer force of lust which saturates me. He licks the wounds closed and lowers me enough for our lips and tongues to tangle again. I am not satisfied, though, until I feel him reach down and the tip of his cock tease at my clit.
Victor enters me in one solid thrust. I grip tighter onto him and shudder as he pushes me harder against the tile, my back sliding up and down as he starts pounding into me. My entire form ignites from within and I call out his name, unable to control the sounds and proclamations I make while we remain joined together. My inner walls tighten, my body arching into his as it seeks another orgasm and I feel him tensing, his thrusts becoming more desperate. As he calls out my name, I spill over and we become lost in the haze together.
Tingles and shivers and a plethora of sensations marry with the pulses of climax for what seems like an eternity. I do not know how much time passes from start to finish, but slowly become aware of him nipping at my neck and me smirking in response, with him still inside me. I open my eyes without realizing I closed them and our gazes converge, both of us exchanging looks with one another, sentiments which defy words being passed from one being to the other.
I run my fingers through his hair. Touching foreheads, I whisper the only words I can manage in the throes of afterglow.
“I love you deeply, my lover Victor.” My grin turns devious. “And am rather glad this form pleases you.”
