A Perfect Fit

"But what did you do? You didn't have a gun or anything!" He felt like one of the adoring girls in Indiana Jones' classes. But then, the word 'dreamy' applied to Vinicius on so many levels...

"It was no trouble. I shouted and struck both horses on their flanks. The beasts startled, threw their riders, and galloped off. Once I'd snatched their rifles away they were much more polite."

Steve listened, entranced, until it was quite late. When Vinicius discreetly yawned, Steve immediately moved to lay him back and make him comfortable. The bed should have felt crowded but Steve relished the closeness as they drifted off to sleep.

...

Waking the next morning, Steve was confused for a moment. It was the first time he'd slept so deeply since Vinicius had appeared in his life. The man was gone. He knew what had happened last night should have bothered him deeply, and yet he could not but remember it with fondness.

His incongruous happiness did not fade for quite a while. He showered and packed, then went down to the restaurant for a hearty breakfast. It was only when he arrived at home that his normal personality managed to start reasserting itself.

It was a bit like waking from a dream. Actions and circumstances that had seemed perfectly reasonable and rational were suddenly, obviously bizarre. He had been an exhibitionistic cocksucker and had drawn nothing but pleasure from it! His previous contentment melted into a queasy horror.

He needed to clear his head, to feel like aman again. His first attempt failed badly, however. He didn't make it to the end of the street before turning his motorcycle around and fleeing back to his garage. His new anatomy responded very differently to the thrumming bike between his legs.

Instead he got in his car, drove to the firing range, and ran a couple hundred rounds through his pistol. Cleaning the gun afterward at his kitchen table was familiar and reassuring. Then, he went down to his basement and got his old free weights out of storage (he knew he wasn't going to be using the agency gym for a while). He fired up the 'workout' playlist on his iPod and wore himself out exercising to the metal and grunge. He went for a jog as the sun set.

By the time he returned home, he was feeling more like himself than he had in days. The whole situation was just a problem to work out. He'd been in tough scrapes before and pulled through, he'd managed to salvage some botched operations when others would have given up. Admittedly, this was avery tough problem, but there was always a way.

All these thoughts were running through his mind as he walked in through his front door. They all vanished instantly as he caught sight of the flowers in the living room.

He scampered over at once to see. A dozen long-stemmed red roses in a beautiful crystal vase. Leaning against the base was a small envelope. He opened it excitedly and found a brief handwitten note:

The script was elegant and sophisticated, as he'd known it would be. He felt the goofy grin spreading across his face and didn't care in the slightest. It was so sweet of Vinicius to do this! Last night had been wonderful indeed; not just the sex - though that alone had been mind-blowing. It was laying in bed afterward with him, talking; the cuddling, the intimacy...

The intelligence analyst inside him finally made a another connection, one he should have made days ago. He wasn't just reacting to Vinicius like a girl, physically and emotionally. He was reacting like a specifictype of girl; a young woman, shy and perhaps who'd been a little sheltered, but with a flowering sexual curiosity and a romantic streak. Such women were prime candidates for subversion in the proper circumstances. Julia had been one...

He tried several times that evening to throw the flowers away, but every time he got near them, he fell under their spell anew. No matter how strong his initial resolve, he'd end up admiring the blooms, and smelling them, and thinking how thoughtful and endearing it was of Vinicius to bring them. He couldn't bear the thought of parting with them! Each time he'd find himself deciding to dry and preserve the roses once they started to wilt.

He started avoiding the living room, and sat in his bed upstairs, despondent and fearful of every noise in the house... and at the same time eager, avid. His earlier confidence was gone. d

...

He awoke, bleary and not at all rested, early the next morning. It took a few moments for him to realize that he had not been visited - at least in person - at all the day before. He tried to ignore the part of him that was unhappy about that and worried about what it might mean all through breakfast. He came to no conclusions, however. He just didn't have enough data.

He noted, not without significant distress, that his psychological changes were ongoing. Any time he thought of Vinicius, or got even a little bit horny, he turned into a giddy, swooning teenage girl. He was falling inlove with him! In truth Vinicius was a remarkable, even admirable, man. In other circumstances, had he been assigned to assassinate the man, he'd have felt a bit of regret. But the girl inside him was tripping head over heels. The emotions were incredibly difficult to fight.

Trying to watch the news was useless; he simply couldn't concentrate. He flipped around the channels, ending up watching a series of mindless action movies. He went up to bed early, listening for any signs he was not alone. His breath caught when he saw his bedroom light was on... and it was eagerness that sped his pulse. Just like that, his feet were light and his heart was soaring. He suddenly recognized the feeling he'd been unable, unwilling to name last night - the whole situation wasromantic.

At the door he paused, dumbstruck. Vinicius reclined in the bed, the covers up to his waist but no clothing covering that manly chest... "Good evening," he smirked.

Steve rushed to his side without a second thought.

...

Eating a toasted bagel and wracking his brain, Steve sat at the kichen table. Memories of last night danced across his mind, maddeningly difficult to dismiss. Again he'd managed to avoid actual penetration, but only by the narrowest of margins. Vinicius never brought it up, but Steve had beenso tempted...

He realized he had to do something. The entire situation was completely out of control. But he could not imagine what action he could possibly take that would be of any use... except one. He could alert his superiors. The problem was, it might already be too late. He didn't want to betray his country... but he didn't want to betray Vinicius, either! He was helpless when Vinicius was present, and even thinking about him was dangerous.

In the end, he dealt with it the way so many others who'd been afflicted with unwanted sexual obsessions had - by rigidly compartmentalizing his mind and life. At work, he made himself be Mr. Harper, intelligence analyst: reserved, efficient, and cold. At home, he was Steve, the complaisant, loving toy of Vinicius.

There were variations over the next several days, of course. Once, Vinicius was waiting for him as he arrived home, and they quickly pleasured each other before he disappeared. Other times he popped up later, and twice he did not appear at all. The upredictability was at once frustrating and thrilling.

He found himself enjoying the chase. Being prey instead of predator, pursued instead of pursuer. He worked to beseductive when his Master appeared. There was a strange power in being the object of desire; the power to arouse the delightful beast, to be enticing.

Ocasionally, however, these considerations intruded onto his workday. If something reminded Steve of his dashing paramour - and he was terrifyingly easy to recall - well, he discovered that it was easy for a woman to masturbate anywhere. But he had trouble keeping quiet.

One day, driving in to work, he learned he could no longer listen to the radio. It was too dangerous. Pop music was impossible - almost every song was about love or infatuation and seemed to have something to say directly to his now-girlish heart. The classic rock station worked for a couple of songs, but then Heart's "Magic Man" came on and he got so hot and bothered that he had to pull off the road and calm down. Heavy metal was about all he could safely hear anymore.

...

His skin blazed where the moustached lips grazed and suckled. He opened himself, offering his secret heart to its rightful owner. Vinicius' manhood began to part the lips there, the gates to his very soul...

"Steve? Uh, Steve?"

He snapped out of the daydream. With a chill he realized that he was in the middle of a meeting. Everyone was staring at him, waiting for a reply to a question he hadn't heard.

Quickly he improvised. "I'm sorry, I was still thinking about the situation in Pakistan. Somehow it bothers me. I've got this feeling we've missed something."

"Well, worry about it later. The rest of us were hoping you might have the figures on Taiwan troop levels?"

He recited the numbers he'd prepared with minimal attention, focusing covertly but intently on the reactions around the table. He couldn't be positive - the 'poker face' was so necessary among his colleagues that it was second nature - but he thought his gambit had been successful. His secret was safe for another day. More than than that, however...

The 'compartmentalization' was breaking down; it was increasingly difficult to keep the two worlds separate. And the encroachment was entirely in one direction. Henever felt like a detached intelligence analyst with Vinicius... but more and more often in his normal life he was thinking and behaving like a young woman in love. The trapdoors in his mind were becoming sinkholes, expanding their reach.

That very morning, he had gone to take a shower but was overcome by a naughty impulse. He drew a bath instead, and luxuriated in the warmth. When he shaved his face, it felt so smooth that he had to keep going. The next thing he knew, he'd shaved every inch of skin he could reach, even standing in front of the mirror and getting the hair at the small of his back. He was so slippery in the soapy water! He imagined how it would feel against Vinicius' hairy chest and legs. Then hehad to try something he'd heard of girls doing - he started the water flowing, and positioned himself in the tub on his back, with his pussy directly under the faucet.

It wasdivine. He experienced three spectacular orgasms before he finally realized just how late it was. He dressed frantically and rushed off to the agency.

It had been a stupid thing to do. Coming in late would stand out, and if his recent behavior changes hadn't attracted attention yet, they soon would. The smooth skin under his clothes kept reminding him all day of what he really was now. Concentration was immensely difficult, and by the time he arrived home he was wet and inflamed and halfway to a sexual frenzy, but his lover was nowhere to be seen.

He ate alone, frustrated. Heneeded Vinicius! But the man kept his own schedule, and Steve couldn't influence or even predict it. He went upstairs right after he'd cleaned the dishes and stripped off his clothes. Standing in the bathroom, his body hairless but for a neat patch around his pussy, he put himself through different poses, trying to look as sexy as possible, trying to be ready should Vinicius manifest himself.

"Come here,mi chula. I have a present for you." The voice came from the bedroom. Heart pounding, Steve dashed down the hall. Vinicius was clothed this time, sitting in the chair as before. An ornate and old-fashioned full-length mirror now stood in the corner of the room. Steve beheld himself, panting, nipples peaked, and blushed at how eager he looked.

"What were you doing in there, my sweet?" he asked, teasing as usual.

The heat in his face intensified... but so did the heat everywhere else. "I was... looking at myself. Posing." He glanced away, fidgeting.

"I must say, I'm certainly struck by your... much less hirsute appearance." Steve was pierced with sudden anxiety. What if Vinicius didn't like him shaved? He'd only said he was 'struck' by it...

Vinicius let the moment linger, obviously enjoying Steve's tension. Again he wondered just how much the wizard could tell about what he was thinking - not that he would even need magic now. Steve had no facility for hiding his feelings anymore, not around Vinicius.

Then, a lazy smile. "Well, perhaps I should get the whole effect. Please, continue." He gestured toward the mirror. Steve stepped forward, shyly. He stood before the glass, not at all surprised that he could see Vinicius as well as himself from where it was placed, and commenced to 'vogue' again. It looked odd - a fit, muscled man with female genitals and smooth skin, positioning himself for display like a pinup girl. But itfelt erotic, and he thought he saw Vinicius shift once in his seat, adjusting himself like a man with a rising erection. He felt a burst of satisfaction from that, renewed confidence in his attractiveness.

He was leaning forward, his rear pushed out; a pouting mouth and lazy eyes. Vinicius had watched attentively for some time, but now he stood and motioned Steve to him. He leaped forward with excitement of his own, almost pouncing onto Vinicius. He wrapped his arms around the man who had reshaped his flesh and mind, kissing him passionately, pressing close.

Hands voyaged across his naked body, meeting a joyful welcome everywhere. Fingers played with a nipple, and Steve moaned unselfconsciously and leaned his head back. A kiss on his neck made him shiver, and then strong arms clasped and pulled him near again. He felt almost drunk on the sheer sensual input as their lips met; the musk, the taste, the texture of his clothes and skin...

Vinicius broke the embrace gently, and commenced removing his clothes. Steve rushed to help; it was like unwrapping a present, the way his majestic body was sequentially revealed. Vinicius was at full mast and Steve was filled with pride that he could inspire such a response. As insistently as he dared, Steve pressed his skin against his Master's and found that his hairless flesh indeed felt marvelous contacting Vinicius'.

A strong hand probed his pussy, asking no permission, claiming territory by right, and Steve's knees grew weak. His breath hitched and his body shuddered at Vinicius' skill, but truly, after the day of frustrated lust he'd undergone, almost any erotic stimulus would have set him off. The dextrous actions upon his sopping twat pulled forth a gargantuan orgasm. He was limp after the spasms had eased, and Vinicus almost tenderly guided him to the bed.

Steve lay back like a rag doll, able to do nothing but work to catch his breath. He knew it was wrong to feel so happy, socontent with the situation, but that was an abstract, academic thought. It was quite outclassed by the emotions themselves, undeniably present and self-sufficient. Even Vinicius' amused examination of his subject felt only right and proper. There was pride in his eyes, and he seemed in fine humor as he waited patiently for the transformee to regain some strength.

Steve was momentarily very glad for his new tastes as Vinicius bent over and retrieved his pants; he would never have appreciated how sexy Vinicius' rear was, before. Vinicius pulled a small bottle of lubricant out of the pocket. "I would not dream of inducing you to do something you are not willing to do," he declaimed ironically, "so I thought perhaps you would be open to an alternative." At Steve's widening eyes, he grinned and said, "I can assure you that many, many Catholic girls do not consider it to threaten their virginity."

Steve had no doubt what was being proposed. Though it caused a certain amount of trepidation, it wasfar less fearsome a prospect than it should have been. And it would please Vinicius so, while not forming the ultimate surrender still feared by the dwindling part of himself that was still Stephen Harper...

Hardly able to believe he was being so brazen - impulsive spies had short careers - he rolled over onto his belly and, placing his feet on the floor, lifted his rump up into the air. Looking over his shoulder, he smiled sweetly at his Master and said "Okay!" as casually as if he were agreeing where to go out for dinner.

Apparently even Vinicus hadn't expected such ready capitulation, judging by his faintly shocked, quizzical expression. He hesitated a moment, then smiled and began to open the tube. As he annointed his tool, Steve impishly remarked, "It's nice to know I can still surprise you."

"You do so more than you know,querida." Vinicius was smiling, which pleased Steve greatly. "You can never harm me, but pleasant surprises are still within your grasp." The moment had arrived as he dropped his hand from his prick. It glistened with oil, looking magical, as if it glowed. "Now relax, my pet, and hold still..." Steve turned away and closed his eyes, but in fact found it unexpectedly easy to relax. He wasn't sure he'd ever trusted anyone so completely as he trusted Vinicius.

A hand settled on the side of his hips, and another gently parted his cheeks. Then he detected the tip at his rear gate. He took a deep breath as it began pushing inward, but then it came out in a sigh; Vinicius was indeed being gentle. He felt Vinicius's hips contact his own as the full length entered him; then he pulled carefully back. With due care, the rythym commenced.

The physical sensations of anal penetration weren't directly sexy, though neither were they particulary unpleasant. The veryidea of it though, and the thoughts and emotions it sparked - those were sexy as hell. Caresses or kisses could be delicious even if they weren't on an erogenous zone, after all. And being so intimately and unavoidably aware of how hard he was, and how big, and how powerful... it was fantastic. Steve couldn't help but wonder; ifthis was so good, how much better would that cock feel in the receptacle designed for it?

With that thought, he opened his eyes and beheld the mirror on the far side of the room. He could see them both in reflection. Even in a world as strange as his had become, the image stood out. Himself bent over the bed, a slight sheen of sweat on the smooth skin he still wasn't used to. Panting, moaning, nipples erect, arching his back in ardent acceptance. And Vinicius behind; thrusting, carefully but inexorably, a king taking pleasure from his willing subject.

It was so raw, so sensual, and so deliriously erotic that Steve was dazed. He felt so hot he suspected he might faint. Vinicus' balls gently rubbed against his inflamed vulva with each thrust... Steve's juices were leaking freely. He wasn't sure if his cries were words or inarticulate moans, but silence was impossible. When Vinicius came, Steve knew it, and he screamed in a heady mix of pleasure and triumph and loving submission.

They both rested for almost a minute, as Vinicius slowly wilted before he withdrew. He sat on the bed; Steve, impassioned, almost tackled him onto the mattress and showered him with kisses, which were indulgently returned.

It wasn't terribly long before Vinicius' member showed signs of stirring anew: they retired to the bathroom for a shower. Steve took great pleasure in kneeling before him and washing it gently as it firmed up, and then tenderly sucking him off. After they had playfully toweled each other dry, Vinicius laid Steve down again on the bed and exhausted him with masterful cunnilingus. They fell asleep together in the bed, tired but very happy.