A Meeting of Minds Ch. 02

Charley was home late the next day. He dumped his bag on the floor of his hall and walked into the kitchen for a beer. Half way through drinking it he was suddenly transported. From the light and comfort – relative comfort anyway – of his kitchen he was suddenly transported to a dark alley where he was being very roughly held from behind by someone as a man, with bad breath, to his front ripped open his blouse.

The dislocation was, in itself, shocking as was the experience even if it lasted but seconds and Charley found himself back in his kitchen with his half-finished can of beer lying in a pool of beer on the floor. Charley would not have described himself as a man of action, but the adrenaline was up, and he did not pause a second but was running for the front door, was out of it without closing it behind him and racing up the street as fast as he could go. He knew what was happening, knew Jackie was in trouble and knew exactly where. He had recognised the alley.

Two short streets and a turn and Charley was hammering up that alley towards a moving bundle of dark in the very dark and moonless alley. The 'bastards' had Jackie on the ground and Charley was on them almost before they realised he was coming for them. It is not generally a wise man who takes on two other men without being sure he is stronger than both put together or otherwise has some advantage and knows they do not possess such a thing as a knife. Charley knew none of these things and, fairly observed, his was a very brave action. Certainly, it put the fear of God into the two men and so it should have done. They were surprised by the ferocity, unnerved by Charley's fists and adopted flight not fight and ran, one tripping over his falling trousers as he ran which could have been funny – only was not.

"You all right?"

Jackie was not at her best. Shock, incoherency and visibly shaking as Charley put his arm around her and took her home. He had been 'just in time.'

In a very British way he made her a nice cup of tea and called the police. Of course, explaining to the two policewomen quite how he came to be in the alleyway at just the right time was not easy, trying to explain why he had shot out of his house and ran all that way was very difficult.

"I had a hunch... a... I have a bit of a sixth sense."

"You know Jackie?"

"Well, a bit. We mixed up our bags once and sometimes see each other... err... at the swimming pool." None of it was terribly convincing or plausible but there was no suggestion that Charley was in some way the attacker, not the rescuer. Jackie was more than clear on that point.

Some good, then, had come about from their strange swopping of bodies. By contrast, it was downright dangerous, by contrast, three days later when driving for work Charley found himself driving in a completely different direction in a completely different car with completely different hands on the steering wheel and foot on the accelerator. He did not slam his feet (her feet) down on the brake and clutch to bring the car to a sudden halt, which would probably have resulted in a shunt with the cars behind: rather he had the presence of mind to continue driving as if suddenly finding himself driving a different car and going somewhere different was perfectly normal.

The latter – going somewhere different to that expected, at least had certainly happened more than once before and, probably, has to most people. He had set off in his car quite a few times meaning to go to one destination and only realised quite a way down the road that he was driving in quite the opposite direction and taking his normal journey to work, his brain on 'auto-pilot' and just doing what he normally did without thinking. Annoying and necessitating a turn-around of the car. The present circumstance, though, was rather more extreme: he had been driving to work but was now driving a different car in quite a different direction despite having started out in the right direction originally!

It would have been stupid to drive Jackie to his work and, instead, drove her car to her place of work. He knew where it was. He hoped Jackie was faring as well as he was. Momentarily he wondered what would happen if she had panicked, crashed his car and killed himself. Would he find himself trapped in Jackie's body forever? A man truly in a woman's body. Would he go for a sex change operation? How would he cope with her job, how would he explain that he had suddenly lost all memory of how to do that, what about her boyfriend – would it be best not to break up immediately – what if... It was all too morbid and he liked his own body. Would hate seeing his grieving parents, sister and friends as he stood at the graveside in a black dress.

Stop, stop, stop! Too morbid. But Charley was certainly worried lest Jackie had had an accident, perhaps damaging his car or his body.

Charley drove close to Jackie's work and parked, a very neat piece of parallel parking in a tight space. He was good at that. He turned off the engine and found himself just turning into his own office car park managing, instinctively, to brake before he hit the barrier. As far as he could judge all was well with him and the car.

That evening the telephone rang. It was Jackie. "Look, we have to talk," she said, she did not say about what. It was obvious. They should really have met and talked before. They met in a little café not far from either of their houses, two rather concerned people.

"Charley, what do we do about it? Interesting, more than weird, I grant you but dangerous. The car yesterday, I almost drove into the back of a lorry. Should we see a doctor?"

"Medical science isn't going to understand, is it? Who would believe us? I suppose it was that stupid banging of heads on the train. I'm so sorry."

"It was an accident. We both got up together. I was not thinking. If only it was at will: not random. But how would we both agree and why would we? I'm embarrassed enough thinking what you've done, what you've seen. Yet, yet, without it you would not have come to my rescue. I am so grateful for that."

"What do you think sets it off?" Charley had his own thoughts but wanted them confirmed.

Jackie looked down at her coffee, "Um, sex seems to cause it. Not always but I think there's a bit of a pattern. Not completely but something of a trigger, certainly if we are both... um... doing something."

"You in bed with..."

"Kieran."

"... Kieran, and me having a..." he shrugged his shoulders. Jackie knew what he did, what most men did at varying and variable times; had set him off a couple of times, after all. She had wanked him: not as she was now but – as him. "... having a wank."

Jackie smiled. "No significant other, at present?"

Charley shook his head. "Did you like wanking me off?"

"I've never..." Jackie looked around to see if anyone had heard. "Well, OK, yeah. I liked doing that with your... it's a nice one you know. Better than Kieran's if I'm honest though it is what you do with it, rather than size or aesthetics."

"I haven't seen..."

"No, I suppose you haven't. Golly, I suppose you could find yourself..." her eyes widened and a big grin came over her face, "... Doing things. Your hand in his fly, his penis in your hand! You've already been fucked by him, nice was it?"

"Yes and no, Jackie. I was so scared he'd kiss me."

"He's good at that." Her tongue slid over her lips. It was meant to be sexual. Charley knew that.

"And I'm scared I'm going to find myself sucking him."

"But that's nice!"

"Yeah but suppose I'd a girlfriend. How would you like to find your face between her legs? All at once, just like that?"

"Bit of a shock. I dunno. I've never done that, Charley. Anyway, what are we going to do about it? It's dangerous."

"Perhaps it'll just pass like the bruise on our foreheads."

"Hasn't done yet. I wonder if we can control it. If we can make it happen, will it then leave us alone for a time. Say we both agree to think of sex really hard at the same time but safe at home, not in a car, not in the swimming baths, not in the office but where there is no danger."

"I really don't want to find myself, by which I mean you, on your knees with Kieran's cock in your..."

"I don't think I do a lot of kneeling. Your fantasy not mine. More sixty-nine. And he's a big bloke, likes to hold me down and fuck my mouth. You would not be able to stop him. You couldn't say anything as he fucks... um, me. Course you'll like what he's doing with his tongue." Again, the tongue across the lips. "Sometimes he comes..."

"... like that," said Charley. Only he wasn't Charley. They had swopped over just like that in the café.

Charley was looking at himself but knowing it was Jackie talking.

"Oh... well, well, well. You've found talking like this rather exciting, eh. I can feel..."

Charley saw his hand, under Jackie's control, slip under the table. Jackie was clearly not just receiving sensory information about the state of his cock but was going to squeeze it as well to make sure. With Jackie's hand he reached too and felt the hardness beneath the material of his trousers."

"Charley! I don't think you should do that."

"It's my cock."

"Yeah, but that's my hand and the two should not be touching. Now there's a dilemma for you – and this is so weird talking to myself – would you suck your own cock with my mouth? And I don't look right. I suppose it's like photos. We never look quite right because what we imagine as ourselves is the reverse image in the mirror. Got to do something about that hair. Too long and my lipstick needs redoing – BUT don't you try!"

Charley looked at himself. He thought he had tidied himself up but there was clearly still work to do. Would he like to suck his own cock with Jackie's mouth? H would think about that.

"I was going to suggest," Jackie said via Charley's mouth, "we both think sex tonight at nine. Kieran isn't going to be there. It'll just be me and we'll see if we can do it to order but now we've swopped I wonder if that'll mean we have a respite. I don't know. Worth the try. You game?"

Charley tried doing Jackie's tongue across the lips thing. "OK, sensible experiment and..."

"Oh fuck. Denise Smith and Sue Compton. They'll come and sit here if they see me. They have. Wave. Oh no, work colleagues and we're in the wrong bodies. How'll you cope? Introduce me. Denise is the darker one with the big nose. I'll try and do most of the talking as you and hopefully we'll swop back quickly enough. If not, or perhaps anyway, we've both got to go. I've um – yeah, say I've a doctor's appointment..."

Charley stood, "Hi Denise. What brings you here?" He glanced at Jackie realising his mistake. Men stood for women: it was less the case for women greeting other women.

Actually, Charley thought he pulled off the meeting with Denise and Sue quite well. It was some minutes later that 'the swop' happened again and, in a way, it was more difficult carrying on as himself than it had been letting Jackie (as him) doing the talking!

Nine o'clock found Charley freshly showered, lying on his bed with his cock erected from some light masturbation done whilst looking at some porn on his laptop. He had chosen one of his favourite videos. A really pretty girl, without the oversize boobs you sometimes get, being nicely played with by two unusually good-looking (for porn) men. It had plenty of fellatio and cunnilingus which he had sort of gathered Jackie liked. Charley had, rather amusingly he thought, tied a ribbon in a bow around his erection – gift wrapped it for Jackie to wank! Of course, it might not happen but, in reality, he was rather looking forward to playing with Jackie's body from the inside. He wondered where she would be and what he might find her doing. In the bath again, perhaps the shower, perhaps lying on the bed, perhaps simply downstairs on the settee without knickers watching porn on the TV. She had said she would not have Kieran there but what if he had turned up unexpectedly. What if she had decided to tease Charley by getting Kieran to tie her up rendering her helpless as he took her slowly and with relish in all her holes. Charley swallowed. But the idea of a tied up and helpless Jackie with a man able to do what he wished was exciting. His penis firmed at his thoughts, and then Charley found he was Jackie.

There was no Kieran, and if Charley had tied a ribbon around his penis then Jackie had done somewhat the same. She was on her bed in what was, no doubt, her best and sexiest underwear. He would have smiled had he been able. Jackie clearly had a sense of humour. Stuffed in his mouth was three inches of rubber cock.

Had she bought it specially? It was sensible, actually. Had it been hard plastic there was a risk, perhaps, in the surprise of translocation, he might have bitten down on it and broken a tooth – her tooth. The rubber 'gave,' was firm but not hard. Of course, he removed it, and quickly. It was very realistic – and black.

Jackie's thought that perhaps they could make the transfer happen at will – at nine – seemed to have worked. Certainly, it was nine o'clock and here he was in a red lacy brassiere, matching knickers and suspender belt. In one way it felt and looked very peculiar but in another, given he was 'wearing' a woman's body, not so strange. How long had he got – to play. Very much recreational sex – solo masturbation with another's body. Charley's hands touched, Charley's hands stroked and slipped within the frilly items. He did not take them off, enjoying the feel of fingertips stroking aroused nipples and wet, girly bits beneath the silk. Should he? Well he had felt a dildo before – and Kieran's real penis inside – so why not?

Charley picked up the rubber penis. It was naughtily big and, as he had already observed, very realistically moulded – probably, even certainly, from life. He pulled his knickers to one side and applied the rubber facsimile. He very much enjoyed the act of penetration, pushing his penis into a girlfriend: he rather enjoyed it from the other perspective – not opening but being opened. Very good to work it inwards and then fuck himself with it. Good to feel, examine and understand how important touching and stroking his clitoris was. Of course, he knew, certainly had been a keen practitioner with fingers, tongue and penis, but very instructive to feel how good it actually was.

He brought the dildo out and looked at it. So wet. It was fascinating to actually feel the rush of wetness when he became particularly excited. Did girls suck their wet fingers when masturbating? Certainly, they did in some porn films he had watched. Presumably some, perhaps all did – did Jackie? It was probably the same question as whether men tasted their own semen. Charley was wont to do that when he got a little wet at the end of his penis when wanking and, on occasion, when he had ejaculated rather well he had found semen shooting as far as his mouth and had licked that up. A very sexual act in the midst of cumming.

A tentative lick to the black rubber penis, a tentative taste of Jackie, knowing back in his own body he would have been more than happy to bury his face in her sex. He licked again, thinking of licking Jackie's engorged clitoris and at the same time stroking it, her clitoris, with his forefinger. He wondered what she was doing in his body, was she simply lying on the bed and wanking, experimenting with bringing his penis to the edge and letting the feeling slip back without actually cumming. Had she got off the bed to look at herself/himself in the mirror and see how her penis stood up? Was she having as much fun as he was? If he possessed a dildo, which he did not, and had left it beside him on the bed would she be sucking it as she seemingly liked to do with her boyfriend's cock. Charley focused again on the big black facsimile he was holding in front of his face.

He had the opportunity, afforded to few or possibly no other men, of experiencing what it physically was like to be a woman, to be Jackie. His forefinger thrummed (that was the word) his wet clitoris and it seemed only sensible to go further in being Jackie. Charley licked again and then put his lips to the knob and sucked it in. Charley Rogers was pretending to suck on a cock, rolling his tongue, pushing the rubber in and out and hollowing his cheeks. He knew what he liked and was pretending to do what he liked to feel. Within his red, silk, knickers his fingers worked. He knew he was close and sucked the harder on his rubber penis. He was about to experience the female orgasm – from inside. It was going to be good and interesting. Yes, yes, yes!

"Bugger!"

Charley was lying on his bed, naked and with his semen all up his stomach and chest.

"Twice bugger!"

He had missed both his female and male orgasm: Jackie had got them both. Back in her room she was no doubt shuddering with pleasure and, probably, more than a little amused to find her black, rubber cock still in her mouth. He was sure he would hear about that on their next meeting.

There was no unexpected transfer the next day. It made Charley wonder if there was indeed something in Jackie's thought that the experience was less likely to happen again shortly after it had happened. He wondered the day after whether it would happen that day. It did.

Charley had finished his breakfast, shaved and had sat himself down on the lavatory seat. It was what everyone does every morning or perhaps every evening or perhaps more than once a day or, if unlucky, much less frequently, though plentiful muesli for breakfast and perhaps prunes are a really good idea. Charley closed his eyes and it all happened. Easily, fairly quietly and satisfactorily. A more detailed description is quite unnecessary. The important point being, whilst his eyes were closed, and he relaxed himself and the necessary thing happened, he had the distinct impression things were different; that he was not himself; that it was not all quite how it normally was. Yet, when he opened his eyes, he was in his own bathroom with his own washbasin still full of shaving water.

He suspected, though was not quite sure, his body swopping with Jackie had just entered a new phase. It was all going too far.

Lunchtime found Charley sitting in a café, a finished sandwich, a cup of coffee freshly ordered before him and him engrossed in a magazine. He looked up and out of the window and his eyes followed a very pretty young woman in leggings and a tee shirt, perhaps heading for the gym. He rather thought he would like to see her exercising and in the shower afterwards. It was a surprise to find himself all at once in a public house surrounded by a whole 'gaggle' (Charley's sort of word) of women. Their chatter was, frankly gossip, but it meant all he had to do was nod and occasionally agree. He could do that. He could pretend to be Jackie and sip her Coke – but not very much. He did not much like Coke whether Coca-Cola or Pepsi!

His coffee was mostly gone and what was left was cold by the time he returned to the café. The pretty girl was, of course, long gone.

"We should meet again," said Jackie on the phone.

"Pretty girl," she said when they met, "it seems you just looking at her pulled me into you. I wasn't thinking of sex at all. I presume you were and, yeah, I could see why. How'd you get on with my friends? I was ten minutes sitting in that café drinking your Americano. I don't even like coffee much, and I thought your car magazine so boring."

"And this morning, on the... Did we?"

She reddened, "I had rather hoped not but, yes, I thought so."

"It's getting beyond a joke, beyond being simply strange and sometimes interesting. That car experience was perhaps the worst, the most dangerous but what if you flew, were a pilot? Imagine the danger in that approaching the runway or even keeping in level flight because I haven't a clue, haven't even played on a flight simulator on the PC. What if you played hockey and I found myself in the middle of a match?"